Rec’d by anonymous: Routine by thishasbeencary, Teen, 17k (WIP) Viktor pushes himself too hard, he always has, he knows that. Coaching and returning to skating isn’t easy (especially since he expects himself to start back exactly where his career left off, despite being 28 and not having competitively skated for most of a season). And, really, he should have seen this coming.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: Shape of You by ViktorBunny, Explicit, 43k (WIP) Yuri is moving to St. Petersburg and Victor is far too excited to show him everything and spoil his Katsudon on his home turf.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous: Something Gold by thishasbeencary, Teen, 2.8k A soulmate’s mark begins to grow the first time that they see their soulmate, and stops growing when they fall in love. Some grow faster than others, so by the time they’ve both fallen in love, the marks are the same.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: Unexpected by AlexWSpark, Mature, 52k (WIP) In which one impulsive midnight decision leads Victor Nikiforov to Yuuri Katsuki and, of course, everything changes.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: No Less Unthinkable by rageprufrock, Explicit, 79k In which Katsuki Yuuri fights a losing battle with chronic anxiety, the quadruple Salchow, and his own judgment four drinks in — but wins the war.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: A Matter of Luck by stillmadaboutpetra, Gen, 33k Victor, a Charm of Good Fortune, promises to give Yuuri the life he wants. The problem is: Yuuri hasn’t a clue what he wants. a thread to weave a home by LiaoftheDawn, Gen, 1.9k “Yuuri, would you mind making a quick stop at Ice Castle before heading back home?” Yuuri’s breathe catches when Victor says the word ‘home’, soft and easy, like it’s his own. Like he plans to make it his own.
Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous: Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood, MapleTreeway, Explicit, 179k New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer’s block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by @phoenixwaller: In Our Dreams by phoenixwaller, Explicit, 38k (WIP) Victor Nikiforov, the Junior World Figure Skating Gold Medalist, has a secret skill. He has the ability to dreamwalk; to visit the minds of others while his body sleeps.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous and anonymous: Fanboy by arkhamcycle, Teen, 40k (WIP) “Love!!! on Ice” is sure to be the greatest Wattpad-hosted love story of Viktor’s day. At its center are Viktor’s idol, world-renowned figure skating champion Yuuri Katsuki, and the silver-haired boy whose heart he steals–Vitaly Nikulichev.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: The Weight of Gold by barrelrider, Not Rated, 13k Yuri’s big win at the Grand Prix final poses questions about the future that he hadn’t thought to ask before. And Viktor doesn’t seem interested in answering them.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by @ever-so-nice: Shared Gravity by phoenixwaller, Explicit, 40k (WIP) Yuri Katsuki doesn’t advertise his alpha status, in fact he’d rather it be relatively unknown. He feels that he’s never fit the stereotype, and is much happier blending into the background. However, much to his dismay, his alpha instincts are awakened one summer morning.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: Walking Barefoot In The Snow by wingedcastielpie, Teen, 3.9k (WIP) Millions of years before humanity has rooted itself firmly on the ground, two lovers of forbidden origin and passion were forced to live their lives in exile from the Seven Seas. Thousands of years later, they were back from where they started, with a bond more formidable than the oceans’ tides. somewhere only we know by wingedcastielpie, Teen, 1k (WIP) Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov were orphans. They formed a bond when they were younger, and they were inseparable for four years. They only had each other. Until one day, Victor left, and Yuuri was left alone to his own devices, forever looking for him.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by @bathsoaps: Come Out of Hiding (I’m Right Here Beside You) by osaki_nana_707, Not Rated, 61k (WIP) After forgetting the words to his song during a vocal competition as a teenager, Yuuri Katsuki decided singing was not for him. Instead he went to NYU to study English. He never expected Viktor Nikiforov, Broadway star extraordinaire looking to direct his first production on the stage, would ever find his up-and-coming lead… in him.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: With the Aid of Gravity by notwisely, Teen, 5.3k Yuuri had plastered his childhood bedroom with posters of Viktor—had grown up with Viktor’s irrepressible smile comforting him on the worst days, the promise of his silhouette against the endless blue of the sky behind him: that if Yuuri couldn’t defy gravity and physics and mortality, Viktor would do it for him.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
Rec’d by anonymous: Live, Laugh, Love by Lucien_King, Teen, 9.4k (WIP) Something clicked within Yuuri and even though his manager told him that the project might ruin his reputation, he insisted. What could possibly go wrong? And then, he met the Viktor Nikiforov.
Thank you for all your recs! ₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎
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Mr. Weasley gets a memo asking him to investigate the “Third regurgitating public toilet reported in Bethnal Green” and speaking as someone who used to live in Bethnal Green, a regurgitating toilet would be pretty tame even by Muggle standards
If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know.
Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her
hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it
perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse
perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red
bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung
down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels
clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots,
that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He
frowned at the duffels in her hand.
The nation’s secretaries of state wrapped up their summer meeting Monday by passing a defiant resolution on Trump’s Election Integrity Commission as lawsuits continued to pile up against the panel.
Notably, the meeting took place in Indiana, Vice President Mike Pence’s home state. Pence serves as chairman of the controversial commission.
“With the unanimous vote, the National Association of Secretaries of State — both Republicans and Democrats — continue to push back on the commission as outlined in the resolution,” California Secretary of State Alex Padilla said in an interview.
- ‘I’m a supervillain staying up all night to polish my evil schemes, you’re the barista in the coffee shop across the road from my lair who is definitely starting to suspect something’ AU - ‘I’m a superhero who works part time in a coffee shop, you’re the ‘civilian’ who’s coffee sprees exactly coincide with my nemesis’ latest evil scheme planning phase’ AU
- ‘Are you asking me on a date or trying to kill me because I honestly can’t tell’ AU - ‘I can’t decide whether I want to kiss you or kill you, you infuriatingly attractive dickhead of a nemesis’ AU
- ‘I’m the sole member of the local supervillain fan club and I was not expecting to find you actively bleeding out on my couch, the membership was mainly ironic btw’ AU - ‘You’re the sole member of my fan club and my nemesis is genuinely out to kill me, I have no one else to turn to, please dear god help me I’ll do anything’ AU
- ‘I think my roommate is the local superhero and also my nemesis, but they’re the grumpiest human being alive and their alter ego is really personable’ AU - ‘I think my roommate is my supervillain nemesis but they’re an absolute ray of sunshine and their other persona is a total megalomaniac complete with evil cackling’ AU
- ‘I know your secret ID and I’m using it to blackmail you into baking me brownies, oh dear does this make me a supervillain’ AU - ‘Someone in the building knows my hero ID, but they’re only using it to blackmail brownies out of me, please sort out your priorities I’m almost insulted’ AU
- ‘You have superpowers and you’re not even using them?’ AU - ‘I grew up surrounded by heroes and villains, I just want to live a normal life please stop asking me to levitate things in public, my extended family might find me and frankly it’s just plain insensitive’ AU
- ‘I’m a small town hero with a massive power set, you’re the Hero League’s representative sent to recruit me, but I’m fiercely defensive of my home turf and I sent the last few representatives back to headquarters trembling and a little on fire’ AU - ‘I’m the representative of the big Hero League, you’re the most powerful super I’ve ever heard of, please join up it’ll put my bosses’ noses right out of joint when you beat all of them in training (yes I’m using spite as a recruitment tool, is it working?)’ AU
- ‘I’m a supervillain and I just saved a small child from getting run over and you saw me do it, fuck off I’m not ‘secretly nice’ it was just a reflex, okay?’ AU - ‘You’re the scariest supervillain around but I just saw you save a small child, I bet you secretly like puppies and chick flicks too’ AU
- ‘Well aren’t you just a massive cliché of a supervillain; seriously, a giant evil robot programmed to destroy the city if I don’t surrender immediately? That’s the best you can do? And here I was thinking you were my most original villain’ AU - ‘I created a sentient giant robot that’s going to destroy the city if I don’t ask you out (after I told it about my crush and it became hellbent on getting us together), but I’m trying not to lose all of your respect, please just play along without making me spell it out’ AU
- ‘We were fighting and I touched your boob I’m so sorry please just take me to jail’ AU - ‘I’ve never manage to catch you before, but now you’re willingly going to prison because you accidentally touched my boob, did you just unwittingly make my boobs my secret weapon?’ AU
One of the really frustrating things about the ball (I mean besides the bloody Game) is that this should be Vivienne’s element, her chance to shine. This is her home turf, and she should be a major player.
Hell, if she hasn’t been recruited, that could have done interesting things with her - she offered the Inquisition her hand in friendship and was rebuffed, so now she stands in opposition to them.
This should have been her place in the spotlight, and instead she is incidental at best.
Okay so I love the simulation one but how does Tony work with the others as villains like how does he take down Steve and Natasha when they're villains? Also I love everything that you've done today especially the one where everyone is sure Tony is a villain which is still canon compliant. I keep getting excited when I see you :)
Aww, you’re so sweet <3 I’m so glad you like the way I played with canon there (well, canon gets lost eventually but we aren’t there yet lol). I just thought it would be hilarious if Tony became one of the world’s greatest super villains–because of rumours no less. Thank you so much for being the sweet person that you are *hugs you*
About the simulation: (I’ve pictured computerised sims like in some high tech, out of body experience, just so you know) The way I imagined the major difference why the team as so much more trouble taking down Tony as opposed to everyone else when it’s their turn to be villains is Extremis. Sounds–almost disappointing, doesn’t it? But fact is all members of the team know each other, know their strengths and weaknesses. So them fighting each other when it’s five against one, well, the villain doesn’t have it easy.
Now by mere design of the simulation being essentially a program, Tony has a certain advantage. But I was thinking that Extremis–and this is totally wacky comic book science because I have no idea how this would work in real life–would allow him to hack the simulation, even when the others are in control as the villains. Of course that’s an unfair advantage, but then so is Steve’s superserum. And well, if you fight Tony within a network he’s got access to, I have a hard time feeling bad for you when you inevitably lose…
Of course they also do training exercises in the real world, and I’m not gonna lie, Tony isn’t as devastating there as he is in the sims. But that doesn’t mean he’s not still dangerous and hard to take down.
5. st. basil’s cathedral- moscow, russia. reason: he will be on his home turf in russia and is much less likely to face criminal charges for kicking my ass.
4. his home -pittsburgh, pennsylvania. reason: i know that bitch has a pool he could drown me in. also could use jeffrey to drag my lifeless body somewhere to hide.
3. any local mcdonald’s- pittsburgh, pennsylvania. reason: it is very likely i will not be the only one getting my ass beat at the mcdonald’s so it will be inconspicuous. also he can get a big mac and a vanilla milkshake when he’s done.
2. ppg paints arena - pittsburgh, pennsylvania. reason: he likely knows many hidden places and closets to hide my unconscious body until i wake up from the ass-kicking-induced coma.
1. sidney crosby’s childhood home - cole harbour, nova scotia. reason: could stuff me in that fucking dryer and have sidney take slapshot practice.
Inspired by @spiritusignis ‘s headcanon about certain events after Jack and Bitty come out. I hope I did your HCs justice.
It had been a few months (okay, four months and three weeks, but who was counting?) since Jack and Bittle came out to the NHL, and honestly, Jack couldn’t complain. He got to have his boyfriend on his arm at media events, he wasn’t worried about being outed every time he and Bittle grabbed coffee, and most importantly, nothing catastrophic had happened. He was allowed to have this. He could have his A and his team and his boyfriend and his life, all at once, and nobody was going to take it away from him.
Of course, not everyone was as welcoming as the Falcs. Jack didn’t really mind the checks; everyone wanted to get in a hit at Bad Bob’s son, so he’d been getting smacked around in the rink for a decade. He barely noticed an uptick in physical aggression, and Bitty always had the cutest worried face when Jack got back from a rough game. But the verbal shit was something else.
Elthina leaves the Chantry only twice in the entire game. Once is to berate Sebastian, and as the scene is part of his DLC is not ‘the game’ proper. The second is here. If you only have the base Dragon Age 2 game, this is the only time you will see her step outside Chantry walls. Thus, this is the only opportunity to see her ply the trade that made her famous: diplomacy.
Elthina fucked up badly during the Qunari uprising, largely because she refused to leave the Chantry. The Chantry deliberately provoked the Qunari, yes, but Elthina could hardly have wanted events to play out as they did. Hawke was the only person to come out of that mess looking good. Where Elthina went wrong was a failure to know her enemy. What she thought was the conflict just starting to ramp up was actually the Arishok reaching breaking point. Had she gone to the compound herself, she might have realised this. Certainly Hawke could have told her – did try to tell her, but gave up when Elthina just kept claiming she would intervene ‘when it was time’.
This is different, though. Here, Elthina is fighting on her home turf. She has known these people most of their lives, and she is the direct superior of both. It’s in her power to manage this situation in any way she sees fit, so it’s interesting to see what she chooses.
I think we see here a clever and able politician – but one with no morals at all.
Meredith: This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace. I am dealing with the matter.
Elthina: Ah, Orsino. So frustrated. Do you think this is truly wise?
Orsino: I … no, Your Grace.
This is vicious. This isn’t just shutting Orsino up today, it’s effectively ruining any further efforts in this line. Orsino has adopted a very careful and deliberate tactic here: he is being ‘the good mage’. His position, by default, is awful: he is both an elf and a mage, and thus simultaneously a member of two of the most hated groups in Thedas. Getting a group of Chantry-going noble humans to listen to him is always going to be an uphill battle.
Thus, his strategy. Despite the desperation of the mages, Orsino is well-dressed, well-spoken and extremely confident in public. He has been addressing the crowd, not about Meredith’s crimes in the Circle, but about the crimes she is committing against Kirkwall’s citizens. The whole point is that he is wise. He is intelligent and well informed. He is telling the people of Kirkwall ‘what is really happening’.
In posing her question, Elthina has hamstrung him. He could insist that he does think this is wise, but in doing so he would be setting himself against the Chantry. Against a grand cleric. That would have the whiff of apostasy about it, and make him untrustworthy. Or, as he does here, he can agree with Elthina. He remains the good mage, then, but he can’t very well persist in telling the people of Kirkwall what Meredith really is, or he will again be defying a grand cleric. Without actually saying the words, Elthina has ordered him to shut up, forever, and he’s going to have to start all over again from scratch. Find some other way to bring Meredith down.
Elthina: Of course not. Young men, would you show the first enchanter back to the Circle? Gently, if you please.
Two things are noteworthy here. The first is that Orsino is not simply dismissed, rather he is effectively arrested: the Templars are returning a mage to his proper place in the Circle. He should not, really, be seen in the streets at all.
The second is that Elthina knows the Templars will not be gentle unless she specifically orders them to be. That means that she knows they will not be gentle once they are safely ensconced in the Circle. Templars are not gentle with mages. That is as it should be. But all of this should be occurring in the Gallows, not here. She is asserting both Chantry authority and Chantry propriety.
Meredith: Your Grace! He should be clapped in irons, made an example – !
Meredith, afflicted with red lyrium, is slipping. She doesn’t get it. She has been better at this in the past – an able partner for Grand Cleric Elthina. Her threat to Marlowe Dumar came in the form of a gift:
Meredith’s message was clear: Remember who holds power in Kirkwall. To drive home her point, she present Marlowe with a small carven ivory box at his coronation. The box contained the Threnhold signet ring, misshapen, and crusted with blood. On the inside of the lid were written the words ‘His fate need not be yours’.
– World of Thedas II
No shouting in public, no direct threats, and something that the Viscount could not easily bring forth as evidence without revealing himself to be a Chantry puppet. Nice and clean. Just as it should be.
Meredith has been torturing the Kirkwall mages for years. As far as we know, Elthina has never stepped in to protect them. She’s done nothing to stop Meredith from making mages Tranquil, from locking them in their cells, from having her minions beat them or do anything else to them she pleases. Elthina does not care if Meredith has Orsino clapped in irons. She does care that she not announce she is going to do that in public. Do that, and Orsino looks right. The mage can never be allowed to be right, because if he is right then the Chantry is wrong.
Elthina: That’s enough, Meredith. This demeans us all, surely you can see that? Go back to the Gallows and calm down, like a good girl.
Here Elthina is finally forced to address Meredith. She hasn’t wanted to. She hasn’t wanted to diminish Meredith’s power. Meredith has ranted, and Elthina has crushed Orsino in response. But now Orsino is being hauled away, and Meredith is still talking. Since she’s not taking the hint, Elthina has to be blunt.
‘This demeans us all, surely you can see that?’ You can see the plea there. Elthina doesn’t understand what’s happening to Meredith any more than anyone else does. Meredith has always understood. She’s had Kirkwall under her control for more than a decade, and while people could hate her, no one could touch her. She never made these kind of mistakes.
But now Meredith can’t see her ally of many years here. She just sees a threat. Someone who is keeping her from doing the things she wants to do. It takes a battle of wills to get her to go. Nevertheless, unlike Orsino, she is permitted to leave under her own power.
Elthina has successfully reminded the people of Kirkwall of the pecking order: herself at the top, Meredith next, the Templar escort below that – and Orsino, their prisoner, at the bottom.
Elthina: Gentle people of Kirkwall … return to your homes, I implore you. This will not be solved today.
Of course, Elthina has just made damn sure that it won’t be solved today. Now, Meredith is a big problem. Unless you’ve got Zevran waiting behind a pillar with a very sharp knife, it’s probably not something that can be solved in a single day anyway. But Orsino’s purpose here was to spur people to action. To get the nobles to think and to talk. To begin taking the steps necessary to get rid of Meredith and install a true Viscount.
They’re going to need money. And an army. And a candidate. And a plan. They need to get started on this.
Note that Elthina is the only person in the city who benefits entirely from the status quo. The mages, obviously, are suffering terribly. Meredith, increasingly paranoid, needs to remove them and any other perceived threats to her position.
But Elthina? Elthina is exactly where she wants to be. She is managing a city in perpetual crisis. She is claiming to be a voice of reason and moderation. She is using ‘diplomacy’ on those who either have to obey her orders or outright rebel. She is earning unwarranted respect by ‘managing’ this situation. Where Viscount Dumar was stressed by the unrest in his city – because whatever his failings as a leader he did genuinely care – Grand Cleric Elthina is in her element.
This is what she wanted, and failed to get, from the Qunari presence: ongoing tension that would bolster her position and increase her reputation, but which is contained to groups she can control.
So Elthina is sending the nobles home. She does not want them to accomplish anything. She wants to keep things exactly as they are.
In The Last Straw Orsino is attempting to reach the Grand Cleric. She remains, as established here, the greatest power in Kirkwall. Tragically, he still believes his can move her to help him. She’s never going to help him. She’s never going to help anyone in Kirkwall but herself.
It is only the destruction of the Chantry and the death of Elthina that allows Kirkwall to escape.
While the notoriety surrounding the recent wikileaks articles had died down considerably, both he and Claire wanted to preserve their privacy as long as they could. Only a small, trusted handful of Jamie’s close family and friends knew what had happened and Claire had only told Joe.
The press had no inkling thus far. Jamie bought a car seat and sometimes drove on days when he needed to transport Faith. If he and Claire were taking Faith on an outing together, they sometimes arrived separately. He’d also taken to wearing a beanie to cover his hair and often wore sunglasses. He refused to be too paranoid about it, the nip of winter was still occasionally in the air and he’d noticed that people tended to pay less attention when they were bundled up. His focus was on spending as much time as he could with Faith and getting to know Claire.
Jamie had seen or spoken with Faith every day, becoming familiar with her routine and Claire’s variable work schedule. He began to get a feel for his daughter’s moods and personality, the things she liked to eat, what interested her.
Mrs. Crooke was delighted that her early mornings and late evening hours were fewer and farther between with Jamie stepping in as he may to help Claire cover early morning drop offs and afternoon pick ups at the daycare centre and supper and bedtime when Claire had evening rounds. Mr. Crooke had just retired and they wanted to spend time together. Juggling schedules was a learning curve but they both made a real effort to accommodate one another; neither of them wanted to burst the fragile bubble they were currently existing within.
When Claire had an early call or Jamie late meetings, an unavoidable happenstance in each’s respective line of work, they would shift things around so Jamie could start his day with his daughter, instead of ending it. On those mornings, Jamie would skip his early run, getting to Claire’s while Faith was still asleep. Claire would bid him a quick good morning as she hurried off to get to the hospital.
Her not too subtle plan was clearly to throw he and Faith together as often as possible and build their bond. He didn’t mind and in repayment of such trust he did his best to pay attention to the things she thought most important for Faith and hope he’d be able to keep his actions consistent with hers.
Faith was especially adorable when she first awoke, her hair resembled a bird’s nest full of twisting strands, chirping away to herself as she did her best to make her bed and get herself dressed. He respected how Claire was fostering her sense of independence and responsibility. So while it would have been quicker for him to help her do certain tasks and speed her along, he didn’t rush in first thing and take over the morning chores. Instead, he’d wait until the chatting grew to an audible pitch before checking in on her.
Faith would squeal in delight on the mornings he popped his head in to greet her. Her smile, the best part of his day. He’d take stock of how far she’d gotten on her own. Then he’d lend her a hand to straighten the bed, pick up the remaining impedimenta strewn across the floor. Then they would put the finishing touches on the day’s ensemble. Sometimes tights would need to be rerouted, snaps realigned. Faith had very definite ideas of color and pattern matching, which he’d learned to, if not accept, then at least ignore.
“She picks her clothes out the night before and lays them on the bench near her toy box.” Claire had explained. “I used to buy things that all matched and try and keep the outfit together but gave that up soon enough. The pants will be in the wash or the sweater’s gone missing, or Faith wants to try something else with the tee shirt.”
Jamie didn’t say anything as he followed her around while she showed him where everything was kept and how it usually worked, but something must have shown on his face as he took in tomorrow’s ensemble of mismatched green hues. She gave him a rueful smile.
“It’s fine, she is learning to figure out what she likes. Better clashing clothing as a toddler than a terrible tattoo as a teen.” She sagely observed.
He’d responded with noncommittal, “Mmphm.”
The combinations could be somewhat arresting, at least to his eye. But, in all fairness, he’d never paid a lot of attention to what Jenny’s lassies wore.
Then again, he had two good eyes, did he not?
One day shortly thereafter, a morning both parents were booked, it was up to Mrs. Crooke to cover. Jamie had picked her up from daycare to find her in yellow and red striped pants and a neon pink and orange floral shirt. He snapped a picture of her and texted it to Claire, sans comment.
“Your way of saying she needs better parental guidance?” She texted right back.
“Never a chance.” He replied with an emoji of someone crossing his heart.
“Bright lad,” came the response, delighting Jamie.
By far the most difficult part of getting Faith ready in the morning had been the hair. When he tried to comb it out Faith would squirm and cry out when the comb hit a snag. Jamie was slightly traumatized by his first forays into being her stylist.
Claire had a deft touch and was able to ignore any protestations from Faith, brush never hesitating, simply getting what needed to be done done. Jamie thought that was the same pragmatic attitude that likely made her an excellent surgeon. Whether due to skill or familiarity, Faith seemed to tolerate it better from her than him.
After one particularly trying morning, in which Jamie gave up and shoved a hat onto her head instead of continuing a losing battle, he called Jenny. He’d never once heard his nieces complain or whine (nor had Ian come to think of it) and both of their lasses had hair longer that Faith’s.
“Please, tell me how? This morning there was a stramash like to wake the dead. I’m no’ going through it again, so what do ye know that ye havena seen fit to tell the rest of us?”
Jenny laughed but she knew that Jamie hated admitting defeat and worried he was hurting his daughter.
“Detangler,” she confessed promptly, “it’s sold in a wee bottle at the salon. It costs the earth but ye spray it on the hair before you comb and it takes care of most of it. As for the rest, divide the hair to sections, then take hold of one section at a time, grab the locks in one hand near the crown and hold tight wi’ the one hand whilst combing wi’ the other, it pulls less. Ye just slowly work the tines through and don’t pull down too hard.” She advised.
“Any other tips?” As long as he was already throwing himself upon his sister’s mercy, he thought he might as well go all in. Jenny hummed a little as she thought.
“She likes music?” Jamie mmhmed in the affirmative.
“Grab yer tablet and load it up with OK, Go videos, all of them, ye can’t go wrong. She’ll be nicely distracted until ye get the hang of it.”
Three mornings later, Jenny received a text from him.
“Blessings of Mary and Bride upon you, a miracle!” With a photo of Faith taken from behind her head, reflecting her face in the mirror, smooth, whole head with shiny ringlets aglow.
Half a minute later one more text, “Tho I canna taker her to the gym wi’ me. I’m scarrit what the lass might try!” With a picture of Faith mid-twirl in imitation of dancing on treadmills from Here It Goes Again and a big smile emoji.
The new morning hair protocol was such a hit, even Claire remarked upon it, praising him mightily. Jamie’s ears grew pink, perhaps he was getting a handle on this parenting thing after all.
Mornings were a rushed time of the day and perhaps that was why Jamie preferred afternoons and evening with Faith. He would leave the office, just a little earlier than usual in order to make the pick up and got to spend a few hours with her. While he had outfitted his own flat with enough child paraphernalia to keep Faith safe, more often than not, he’d bring her to Claire’s, letting himself into her flat with a spare key. Claire didn’t mind his being there and it was often much easier to keep Faith occupied on her home turf which allowed him to finish out his work day from Claire’s living room with minimal interruption.
On Claire’s later shifts, Jamie would prepare dinner with Faith. Claire laughed the first time she’d walked into the kitchen to see him in her “Kiss the Cook” frilly apron, a gag gift from Joe, who meant the kiss part to be aspirational but also knew how terrible her culinary skills were.
She’d framed the card that went with it and hung it near the stove. It read:
If the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,
Your best chance is with a scalpel, not a spatula!”
Jamie kept using the apron, anyway. He liked the silly domesticity of it and it was, after all, hanging right there; it might as well get some use.
Living alone, Jamie rarely cooked but now he looked forward to it. He joked that he knew her kitchen much better than his own. Claire joked that he knew it better than she did, too and it was true.
Faith was curious about everything and willing to do her part, like her mother she was a doer and not a watcher. It was an easy way to spend time together. Claire had a colorful step ladder that Faith used to reach sink and countertop.
She would climb up to stand next to him and mix and stir and wash vegetables. They experimented with vegetables and sauces, different kinds of grains. He’d rarely given much thought to planning a meal but Faith gave him a great incentive to do so. Besides, she made it fun. If she liked something, you knew it, if she didn’t her lips would pucker and sounds of protest would quickly emerge.
Any veg that could be dipped apparently passed muster but she had suspicions about all leafy greens. Her deepest reservations concerned spinach and kale. They were “slimy.”
Thinking himself clever, he made a chicken noodle soup one evening and slipped some chopped kale into it. He popped the meal in front of her and, not making eye contact, picked up his spoon. She eyed it fishily without doing the same. He knew she was watching his spoon as it travelled from bowl to mouth.
“No’ hungry, Faith?” he tried to sound matter of fact.
“What’s it?” She finally asked.
“Chicken soup. Ye like it, and I used the swirly noodles with all the colors.” He helpfully added, focusing on positive attributes.
“Mmphm.” Her mouth formed a hard line.
Jamie bit the inside of his cheek, recognizing where she had picked that expression up.
“Carrots and potatoes, a little onion, too.” He added, she loved all of those.
At that moment, a shred of the kale slipped off of his spoon and hung unceremoniously from the underside directly in her line of sight.
“Nooo!” she cried out. Her pouting lips started to shake and tears suddenly maring her round cheeks.
Her voice rose in pitch and volume. “Out! Out! Ickies!”
The look of hurt betrayal in her eyes was far, far worse than spending a half an hour trying to pick out all the kale bits before ultimately concluding it a lost cause. As he stirred her mac and cheese, a reparation offered for his transgressions, he realized that he should have made two versions, a larger one he knew she would have no objections to and a smaller version with the kale to try.
When Claire came home, he promptly confessed.
“You brute! Is it the sin of commission for adding in the offensive veg or the sin of omission for selective ingredient listing that you seek absolution for, my lad?”
“Both.” he admitted. “The look on her face,” he shook his head back and forth. “The memory will give me the nightmare for sure. Her eyes grew big and her lip started to quiver. Ye’d ha’ thought I’d added Jane into the soup!” He shivered in memory.
“Parenting,” she blithely observed, “isn’t a spectator sport. It can be a messy business. Te Absolvo, Jamie.” Claire made the sign of the cross and kissed his cheek.
In sympathy perhaps, she ate an extra helping of the tainted soup and pronounced it delicious, he smiled as his ears turned a light shade of pink.
When he couldn’t be there in person, Jamie contented himself with a brief call. They found that while Faith was still too young to be interested in talking on the phone she adored “face-timing.” Faith would always end calls by giving him a “kiss” which, in all good manners he would need to return, with great enthusiasm.
Then Faith would invariably say, “now Mama!” and insist he do the same with Claire. His antics never failed to make her laugh and Claire smile. Jamie found himself oddly comforted by it, knowing that no matter what stressors and difficulties Claire had faced at work, at the end of the day, he put a smile on her face.
His favorite times by far though occurred when their schedules aligned and the three of them could have dinner together. In the quiet domesticity of her cozy kitchen they became accustomed to one another, in the small acts of setting table, passing bread, doing dishes. Jamie would always stay and help Faith with her pjs and put her to bed.
Claire looked forward to such evenings as well. She tried to be discrete as she watched from the doorway. She knew he didn’t mind her there but she wanted to give Jamie as much time with Faith as possible, trying her best to make up for the missing months between father and daughter. Not because it was her fault, but because had the situation been reversed, she understood how that loss would make her feel and what might help her make peace with it.
Whether Jamie told a tale from his own childhood or Faith picked out a book from her shelf, he was always entertaining. He had a lovely ear for dialogue and the characters sprung to life whenever he told a story.
Then he and Faith would play a quick round of modified “I Spy.” A simple way to teach her Gaelic. Each would go around the room and point to something and say the English world and then the Gaelic one, taking turns. The furniture, the stuffed animals, the images on artwork lining the walls. If Claire was still in the doorway, Jamie would usually include Claire in the game.
Every time he pointed to Claire, Faith would say Mama, but then when he would point to himself she just giggled or shrugged. This was an oddity not even Claire could explain. They’d given her lots of choices: Pa, Papa, Dada, Daddy, Dad, even Father but she refused to be rushed. He did his best not to feel a little disappointed. Ah, well, give it time, he would remind himself.
Jamie would kiss her forehead and whisper good night. Often, afterwards he and Claire would sit together for a little while before he left, sharing some wine and talking of things Faith related and of their own days as well.
Jamie came to understand how challenging her job was, how deeply she cared for her patients. He began to read her better, to know when something was bothering her. She had a terrible poker face but he was impressed that she would set such matters aside when she was with Faith. He understood without asking that Claire didn’t normally unburden herself. Jamie didn’t think she let too many people close to her heart. He didn’t mind in the least that he was becoming one of those few.
The only fly in the ointment thus far had been the unavoidable fact that Claire was a toucher, reaching her arm out when wanting to get his or Faith’s attention. She was also a hugger. She would sometimes give him a sweet kiss on the check in hello or good bye. He thought it must just come naturally to her and she probably had no idea she was even doing it at all, let alone with deliberation.
When they would sit together, he noticed how expressive she was with her hands, they’d roll out or curve up, accenting her story. Every now and then she would catch him staring at them and smile in question. What could he say?
I look at your hands because I imagine how they might feel on me? My mouth goes dry thinking of how you held my hand the other day when we walked with Faith to the car but you didn’t even realize you’d done it?
When you hug me as we laugh helplessly about something Faith did that day, you have no idea how much I want to pull you tighter in my arms, how badly I want you to do it again. Have you not noticed that I always let you determine how closely we are held together and for how long?
That you’ve set me on fire and I have to curl my hand into a fist and bite my tongue to stop myself from showing you exactly what I want those hands to do next?
Jamie said nothing, of course and yet…yet something got stuck between his heart and his mouth at such moments and he wondered if she felt it too.
Omg do u have any more big three kids headcanons ?
i LOVE the big three kids and like they’re honestly one of the things i miss most about the pjo days and like. i want more greek big three kids i want. i WANT.
the sword of hades is FAR from the last time the thalia, nico, and percy are rounded up and forced asked to do a special quest
they’re all punk rock hos like unironically punk rock hos. percy is mortified of how thalia and nico have no subtlety but he’s green day fuckin trash to the max just like they are.
people think they’re siblings, because they’re all built for agility and durability so their bone structure is like, very similar.
all demigods have heightened metabolism and faster healing rates than normal humans, but big three kids have an edge even over other demigods
they all have Something about them that even sets them apart from other demigods, like a sort of aura. it gets stronger as they get older.
like they’re all a little otherwordly looking, not in a blatant way but enough that regular people kinda just get vibes that there’s something different about them.
they train together to control their emotion-based powers so as to stop accidentally blowing things up, killing things, or electrocuting them when they lose their temper
they have to eat more food than the average person because their metabolism works faster (this is sort of canon, like they’re always joking about how percy’s hungry all the time which doesn’t necessarily confirm this but. still)
they also have an unusually high alcohol tolerance for their height/weight (metabolism again)
eating is a MUST after extensively using their powers
and then sleep
they literally suck the life out of themselves when they use their powers. like, they tap into their own life force. it replenishes itself with food and rest, but they have to watch themselves (again, this is sort of canon, percy describes something similar after landing on ogygia)
poseidon’s kids actually have an edge in that regard, because they can actually immerse themselves in their father’s elements, while as like, air and lightning doesn’t help zeus’ kids get reenergized and dirt doesn’t help hades’ kids.
there’s like, two types of powers, though. there’s the type where you actually summon the element yourself, and then there’s the type when you just channel your powers through a medium that’s already there.
like, percy controlling water is just using a medium, and thus it’s not as draining. summoning water is much harder and like actually comes out of their literal life force. like, their father’s elements are literally inside of them and they can summon them if they need to.
that’s like really hard to do though and they have to train for it.
(that’s why jason can fly and thalia can’t! he’s much better at channeling his powers through the air currents, while as thalia just summons her element from her own body)
channeling is much better all around because it’s less exhausting. it’s easier for poseidon’s kids to channel their powers, but it’s trickier to learn if you’re a zeus or hades kid.
although granted, unless you’re near water that’s actually disadvantage for poseidon kids, because they don’t have as much practice summoning their powers without killing themselves.
so their powers kind of negate each other
(although like in my TOTALLY unbiased opinion poseidon kids are the most powerful because like have you SEEN what like the raw force of water can do like it’s…mindblowing. also like you could argue that there’s no cons to being a poseidon kid, there’s just a lack of pros. bc like, if you’re near water, you’re golden, huge pro. if you’re not near the water, then you’re on equal footing with zeus and hades kids, no biggie, because their elements don’t reenergize them)
*a zeus kid who has mastered channeling their element is sincerely deadly though bc like, they’re never separated from air. and if they were than that means their opponent can’t breathe either so nobody can threaten them really. they’re always on their home turf.
***that’s like really hard to do though so it’s not something you really have to worry about because most zeus kids never bother to learn how.
zeus kids have frames built for aerodynamics and can breathe with little to no trouble in very high altitudes.
poseidon kids obviously have frames built for gliding easily though water, and can also sustain very high pressures bc of deep water (that’s canon!)
and hades kids can take a lot of pressure because like, being underground doesn’t bug them at all.
they can all handle both extremes of temperatures much better than the average human
their skin is all very durable too bc like it doesn’t blister when exposed to heat and doesn’t freeze when exposed to the cold (and like um human skin can’t be underwater for much length of time so like i imagine poseidon kids have some kind of extra elastic quality to their skin. unless they do turn into prunes and just have to stay dry if they’re underwater for a long time, but that’s not as fun as them having weird dolphin-ish skin)
they have heat sensitive vision (THAT’S CANON!!! percy just randomly throws out this line while he’s in poseidon’s palace in tlo. like perce, dude, do you realize what you just SAID why are you being so nonchalant about it)
your friend receiving shock therapy isnt a form of ace oppression. it's misogyny because of the expectations put on women to marry men and have children. it would be ace oppression if ace men faced the same thing, but i have yet to hear of such a story happening. cishet ace/aro people dont face the same oppression that LGBT people face, and people wrongfully label the issues that ace women face as "ace oppression" when it's actually misogyny because those things happen to non-ace women as well.
Nope. It’s an intersection of asexuality and sexism. No one would want to ‘cure’ a woman who said that she was interested in a relationship, but just hadn’t found the right one yet. They would just be trying to set her up with people! People wouldn’t say she’s broken, they would say she’s picky.
It’s probably worth noting that my friend’s family eventually basically turfed her out of home and have nothing to do with her. She’s Chinese, so that’s a big fucking deal because the extended family were heavily involved in bringing her up. I think she still sees one of her aunts. Can you please tell me how often that’s happened to a woman who just hasn’t found the right man?
The shock therapy was because my friend said she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and didn’t think she’d ever be. I also think she may have told her mum that she had never been interested in anyone and found the idea of sex repulsive while she was trying to explain why she wasn’t interested (although it’s been like 17 years or something, so I forget the specific details).
It’s more acceptable for a man to be single, but ace men face a different sort of oppression: they feel emmasculated because they don’t experiences this Raw Animal Sex Drive they’re supposed to. Male identity is so tied to sexuality, and so rated on sexuality and sexual experiences, that you can’t discount how much that would impact someone who isn’t interested in women and/or sex.
Just use google: you’ll find examples of women asking yahoo and other advice columns what’s wrong with their boyfriend because he doesn’t want sex and doesn’t seem to find them attractive. The advice is almost always a mix of “DUMP HIM AND FUCK ME!” and “Oh, he’s probably stressed/out depressed,” and “oh, maybe there’s something wrong with YOU, are you taking care of yourself?”
Do you know what it’s like to be an ace man with your girlfriend SOBBING because she feels unattractive to you, and therefore unattractive in general? Women’s conventional worth is defined by their sexual attractiveness, and for a man to feel like he can’t make the person he loves feel attractive because he’s NOT attracted to her, or not attracted to her often, or doesn’t like sex…
Dude, wtf is wrong with people?
Asexuality is so clearly it’s own special oppression. Sure, it intersects with sexism (as well as a bunch of other -isms, as all oppression can intersect), but it has sexuality characteristics that are unique.
Just as trans people of colour face worse queer oppression than white trans people do because their oppression intersects with their race, ace women face worse oppression than ace men because it intersects with sexism.
The fact one person’s oppression is WORSE does not invalidate the oppression of the other person.
This is not the oppression olympics, we’re all getting fucked over, here.
Our society is flooded with sexuality. We’re constantly bombarded with messages about frequency of sex being tied to relationship health and personal identity. To be excluded from that for any reason is very isolating.