#I need to get a proper/bigger display case lol

[fanofflames]

finally reorganized my collection, figured I’d show it off.

I tried to give each villain/organization (and Hawks) their own section, but I ran out of space (the league is sharing with Hawks and the MLA for now).

[marshallpupfan]

Work in Progress

Slowly but surely, my Marshall collection is starting to take shape. Admittedly, I couldn't work on it much last night, as I'm often away from home every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, thus I don't always have a lot of time to work on this. That, and I tend to procrastinate (aka, get lazy and waste time) a lot. But hey, I'm getting there!

Today, I started working on how I wanted to sort out all of these types of plush dolls. There are a bunch of them, with a new one typically releasing every new subseries or film. Well... only the ones that can stand on their legs; the "floppy leg" ones I'm pretty sure they stopped producing years ago.

I have fourteen of the standing dolls and thirteen of the floppy ones. I want to keep them together without dividing them up, so I tend to line them up in rows. In the past, I used to place DVD cases or small cardboard boxes behind one row for the second row to stand up on, but that didn't always look so great. Thus, I started saving scrap wood (usually stuff we were going to throw away anyway) to build proper shelves.

I have a bunch of these long, thin boards from a bed frame we had to throw away. They're pretty handy for projects like this, so I suppose I got lucky there! For the floppy dolls, I made the shelf 4 inches tall, and for the standing dolls, I made two 2 and a half inch tall shelves. The wood here is kind of thin, so attaching them to each other can be a little tricky. I wasn't sure exactly what to do, so I just used hot glue.

...Well, that was after I realized I goofed and only cut two sets of legs when I actually needed three. Nothing unusual with me. 😅

It's not the greatest solution, but it's still quite sturdy. As long as I'm careful, they shouldn't come apart or anything. Besides, they'll only have lightweight dolls on them, so this will work just fine.

Hey, not bad! I wish I could get scrap wood that matches the color of the bookshelf, but they'll mostly be covered anyway, so it's no biggie. Now I just have to sort and find spots for each doll. Naturally, I like to put my bigger favorites up front, such as Ultimate Fire Rescue, Rescue Knights, 2018 Mighty Pups, etc.

Works pretty good! Now I just have to... wait, there's a blank spot there at the top left. What am I going to put there? OH, I know!

BOOMER! BOOMER! BOOMER! Ha ha... I couldn't resist. 😁

The shelf for the floppy dolls went about the same. I only had to make a smaller one for them, as having their legs hang over the front and back works better here.

And there we go! I might rearrange some of the dolls later, since some stand taller than others, but for now, I'm calling it done. Well, just this part anyway.

For now, I'm calling the plush doll proportion of this task complete! Crazy to think one character has this many dolls, huh? And to think, there are so many more out there... many of which I still hope to own someday. If only I could get some of the ones from Japan... but then again, where would I put them if I did get them? Uh... let me get back with you on that one. lol

Well, I guess it's time I start working on the big display case soon. That'll probably take a long time, since I plan to dust everything that'll go on there... including all those tiny figurines, too. Again, I've got my work cut out for me here. 😅

(I'm not sure why I made this post, other than I just thought it would be fun to chat about what I'm doing as I go along. I might make more as I progress, but we'll see.)

[vaguely-concerned]

I’m feeling like a human train wreck today so here, have a scene from my T.F. POV wip while I’m still languishing through this writer’s block lol. Necessary context: this part is way back in the day (they’re in their early twenties), they’ve just made up after having an argument and immediately launched into a cheerful pillow fight, and T.F. amazingly has somehow not yet realized he’s got a bad case of Pining. 

In a display of his characteristically forthright problem solving skills he stops trying to round the corner of the table to get to me and instead bounds straight over it in one surprisingly graceful leap — it ain’t right that a man his size should be so damn quick to boot but it’s undeniably true, and it’s all I can do to throw myself to the side, the pillow missing the tip of my nose by less than an inch. 

That moment of imbalance leaves me open for his next charge, though, as he abandons all finesse and full-body tackles me. His momentum topples us both onto my bed, a tangled mess of feathers and giggles and limbs as we go down. 

“You okay?” he asks eventually, his hand fumbling to pat the first part of me he can reach, which turns out to be a point on my hip dangerously close to my butt. 

“Yeah,” I manage to get out between gasps of laughter. 

In hindsight I should have seen this one coming. 

“Good, because that means I don’t hafta feel bad about doin’ this,” he announces triumphantly and pounces on me, pressing me into the mattress as he unleashes a flurry of ineffectual pillow blows against the back of my head. The laughter gets me again, leaves me helpless to put up anything but the feeblest resistance.  

“Mercy, mercy,” I wheeze, as I try to cover my head with my hands, his weight resting over me, warm and solid. 

“No mercy,” he rumbles, and at least he can’t actually get much done when he needs to use the bulk of his concentration to keep me pinned down, he’s mostly just mussing up my hair at this stage. “You deserve this, if you’d just owned up to your punishment honorably like a proper — hey!”

Having found a brief opening to squirm out from under him for long enough to flip over onto my back I wrap my legs around his waist like a stranglevine, managing to keep him somewhat in place like that and leaving him unable to get enough movement in his upper body to put any force behind his assault. Once I’ve gotten a hold of my pillow again I can at least put up some kind of defense.

“Take — your — medicine,” he pants, ruffling my hair against the pillow case because he doesn’t have the leverage like this to make it a proper blow. Feathers are spilling everywhere like the first snowfall of winter. 

“You don’t look like any sorta doctor to me, show me your medical licence,” I gasp out between chortles, tightening my legs around him and weakly thudding my pillow against his solid midriff in a vain attempt to fight him off. 

He gives a rather evil chuckle and puts more weight on my shoulder to keep me in place. “Oh, you ain’t in Piltover now, sonny, this is Bilgewater medicine you’re gettin’ a taste of, and it comes with — oof, good one — with eels bitin’ onto some private places.”   

This actually makes me stop struggling for a moment from sheer horrified fascination. “What, really?” 

“Yup,” he says. “Secretes a venom or somethin’ that numbs the skin, helps a lot with amputations and shit. Ugly little buggers full of teeth, but ain’t no denyin’ they’re useful.”

“Then why would you put ‘em, y’know. There?” I ask, not prepared to let it go just yet.

He waves an airy hand. “Hm? Oh, I ain’t got any experience with it personally, but apparently it’s meant to help for, ahem, stamina, plus it starts tingling once the venom starts to fade out. Knew of a couple of boys who worked the quay at night who swore by it, but as you can imagine I wasn’t too keen on testin’ it for myself.” 

I nod faintly. Damn, the world is a strange, beautiful and horrifying place, especially in Bilgewater. “Yeah, I can see why you wouldn’t be.”  

I blink my eyes free of tears to look up at him, his weight pressing me down into the bed, and in a distant sort of way I realize that it doesn’t make the panic I felt when that guy grabbed me return at all — that my body still knows it’s Malcolm this time. It feels... nice, actually, to be pinned in place like this, when it’s just a game. Safe, almost.  

“So which one of us is gonna have to go down there and tell the innkeeper why we need two new pillows?” I ask. 

He grunts, unconcerned. “Tellin’ people bad news in a way that makes ‘em think you’re doin’ them a favor is your job in this partnership, slick guy.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I admit. He conscientiously picks a feather from my now gloriously messy hair, then twirls it between his fingers with a thoughtful look on his face before his gaze slowly transfers to me. “Oh no,” I say, leveling a warning finger at him. “Oh no, you better not be planning what I’m thinking you’re planning to — aaargh!“

“Never shoulda divulged to me that y’re ticklish,” he says serenely, running the feather down the curve of my neck and across the underside of my chin. They say you should keep your friends close but your enemies closer, but whoever came up with that one never had Malcolm Graves for a friend, they had no idea what they were talking about. “An unusual oversight on your part, but it’s served me well. Hm. Okay, I think you’ve had enough, I guess I’m ready to be the bigger man and let it go.”

“Get your bigger man self off me before I get out a card and stun you,” I giggle, drying my eyes with the side of my hand.  

 He shifts away, and I honestly miss his weight for a couple of seconds, I’m almost about to — well, it’s a moment’s confusion, that’s all. “Oh, I’m quakin’, anythin’ but that.” 

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-One: Raindrops ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another early Winter day...another bout of rain.

Waking slowly, Hinata peers out from her bed, blankets brought up to her nose. Unlike the chill outside, her room is nice and cozy, the temptation to linger in bed a while longer strong indeed. But eventually she stirs, slipping out from the sheets and making to dress. Tank and shorts are exchanged for a wooly sweater dress. Combined with tights and boots, she’s ready for her day.

The space upstairs isn’t the biggest - much like a studio apartment. The kitchen is tiny, combined with a place to sit and eat. A couch and a desk in a corner serve for as much of a living room as she can manage. Everything is a theme of white and lilac, little space left over beyond the necessities. But given that the shop takes up the entirety of the downstairs, there’s only so much space here to work with.

Not that she minds. Hinata’s always been a bit of a...compact person. While not against open spaces, she just...doesn’t have a use for them. Each square foot has a purpose here, and there’s less room for clutter or a need to be cleaned.

A win in her book.

Breakfast is a simple affair: eggs boiled yesterday are peeled and sliced on top of toast with a little salt and pepper, black tea with a small dollop of honey helping to wash it down as she checks her phone. The news, as is typical, offers only dreary, depressing topics. Her Facebook is full of people presenting only their best sides. Hardly realistic, and inspiring more insecurity than happiness.

But she’s never really been the sort to linger on such things. The social media she has is mostly just to keep in touch with people. The connection and yet distance is just perfect for her. She chats with friends from high school when it’s convenient, but doesn’t have to sit through several hours of in-person interaction that just drains her more than it satisfies her.

Once she’s at least part way caught up with the ways of the world, Hinata tidies up after herself before heading downstairs, unlocking the door at the bottom of the stairwell that leads to the back of the shop.

As always, the smell of flowers hits her like a very pleasant ton of bricks, and a smile blooms over her face. Everything is just as she left it the night before. Shelves of supplies are fully stocked, her arrangements of plants near the windows to entice passersby to come in and take a closer look. The floor was swept before bed, and the lights come on to bathe the room in a pleasant ivory hue.

While some people drudge on in their day to day lives, Hinata counts herself very lucky to have a job she loves every day.

Having twenty minutes before it’s time to open, she does one last sweep of her inventory, making sure nothing is empty or misplaced. The coolers holding cut and pre-arranged flowers hum in the quiet, and Hinata uses the last bit of time to water the plants in the windows. Raindrops slither down the panes, warping her view to the outside like a watercolor painting. The tones beyond are mostly dreary, greyed out by the overcast weather.

But Hinata loves the rain. And Winter as a whole, even if it means most plants are dead or sleeping. In here, and in the attached greenhouse, she gets to be surrounded by them all year round. And help others enjoy them, too!

Just as she finishes, the clock strikes nine, and she flips the sign in the door to, “Open”.

Of course, she doesn’t expect many walk-ins. This time of year, most of her patronage comes online, or on the phone: people ordering bouquets, for the most part. As much as she loves arranging flowers, it does make her sad not to see more potted plants sold. After all, cut flowers only last so long. Pretty and eye-catching...but so quick to wither. A bit of a waste, really.

But not everyone can handle a full-time plant, of course. And she’d rather someone unable use cut flowers than let a live plant fade.

Checking her website in the meantime, Hinata finds a handful of new orders, moving them to her tablet as she gets to work creating the arrangements. Most probably won’t come to pick them up until tomorrow, as per her warning to wait at least twenty-four hours. But she might as well get them done now, just in case something else comes up to -

Jingle!

Coming up a bit short as the bell over the door rings, Hinata blinks wide eyes in surprise. A customer! Given the rain, she’d assumed few would bother to come in!

A man stands by the door, shaking off his umbrella just outside before closing it and stepping fully inside. He gives the shop a curious once over before spying her by the counter.

“Hello,” she greets, giving a smile. “How can I help you, sir?”

“Uh...looking for a plant…”

As always, Hinata withhold a small snort at the comment. Given he’s come to a flower shop, that much is...typically obvious. “Of course! Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Not really? I...don’t know much about them, in all honesty,” he replies, a hand at his neck.

“May I ask what the occasion is…?”

“Just a bit of a pick-me-up for my mom. She’s got those Winter blues, y’know? And she always has a garden in the Summer, so...I thought maybe having something in the house would give her something to do.”

At that, Hinata perks up. “I see! Does she, um...have any favorites?”

“I really don’t know,” he offers, giving a small huff of sheepish laughter. “I barely know what any flowers are regardless.”

“I see...well, what about a favorite color?”

“Well, most of her flowers tend to be bright. Yellow, orange, red...mostly red, I think.”

“Hm…” Hinata moves to the front, looking over her collection. “Amaryllis is usually a good choice. They’re v-very easy to care for, and have very pretty red blooms,” she begins, gesturing to one she has in a dark green pot. “And she can move it outside in the Summer! Every year it will get a little bigger as the bulb grows.”

“...bulb?”

Hinata hesitates for a moment. “...um...sort of like an onion…? It’s a s-structure for the plant underground, and the plant grows up from it. It allows a plant to be a perennial, meaning...it will come back multiple years, rather than just one, like an annual.”

“Oh...well, I guess that will work.”

...she hasn’t shown him anything else, but it seems he’s not picky in the slightest. “All right! Do you like the pot it’s in? I can change it out if not.”

“That should work.”

“Perfect.” Taking the plant from the display, Hinata sets it on the counter and starts ringing up the exchange. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have some color in all this dreary weather, huh?”

“Yeah, that was my thinking. Mom’s always been the sort to really dim down during the Winter. She likes the snow when it’s still fresh and pretty, but when it’s just rainy and foggy, it sort of wears on her.”

“Understandable,” Hinata agrees.

“Hey, uh...how long has this shop been here, by the way?”

“Well...let me think…” Hinata pauses, counting the times. “...at least about twenty years?”

“Whoa, seriously?”

“Mhm.” Scanning the barcode, Hinata fiddles with the register. “It was my m-mother’s. She divorced my father when I was very young, and came here. The shop owner employed her, and we lived upstairs. Eventually she managed to buy it. She passed away a few years ago, and...it’s been mine since.”

He suddenly feels rather awkward, shifting his stance a bit at the somber subject. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you…”

“I just, y’know...thought you looked kinda young. I looked online first and saw you run the place.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“Huh, me too. Did you go to school here…?”

“I was homeschooled.”

His brows lift. “Wow...so your mom worked and taught you? She must’ve been one hell of a woman.”

That earns a warm but somber smile. “...she was. Her name was Hanako.”

“Guess that explains why I don’t recognize you. What was your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“...oh! It’s Hinata. Hinata Hyūga.”

“I’m Sasuke Uchiha. Nice t’meet you.”

“You too.” Smiling a bit more genuinely, she gives him his total, accepting cash and giving him the proper change. “I h-hope your mother enjoys her flowers!”

“Maybe I’ll come back and let you know how it goes. And uh...see if I need anything else. Uh...do I need anything else?”

“Not for now, no. I keep everyone properly watered and fertilized, but she’ll likely need some plant food and fertilizer once it runs out. And once it gets too b-big for the pot, it’ll need a bigger one. But she should be all set for now!”

“Ah, thanks.” Cradling the pot in one arm, he prepares to open his umbrella with the other. “Have a nice day.”

“You too!” Skirting around the counter, she holds the door open for him, waving as he makes his way down the sidewalk. Huh...he walked…? In this weather?

...what a strange man.

Curious, she pulls her phone from her pocket, doing a little digging through a few friends’ Facebooks. Within a minute, she finds him: a mutual friend of several of her own. Huh...funny how they’ve never crossed paths until now. Of course, her being homeschooled is likely to blame. She knows a few girls her age through her mother’s friendships with their mothers, but otherwise she’s rather...reclusive.

Curiosity piqued, it takes her a moment to remember she was indeed working on something - or, starting to - when he arrived.

Best get back to work.

                                                        .oOo.

     Random modern flower shop AU cuz...I felt like something a lil fluffy lol - also this idea for the family dynamic wouldn't leave me alone. In other words, Hanako leaves Hiashi before having Hanabi, so she doesn't pass from birth complications. She DOES still die a bit young, but gets to properly raise her daughter on her OWN terms.      Might be something neat to explore in a canon setting at some point, too.      Anywho! Sorry for missing last night, I just...had a day that kept piling things on, so I took the evening off to spend some time with my brother. It was a much needed break~ But! I'll be back in a jiffy to post another so I don't fall any further behind! As always, thanks for reading~

[rowanartist]

Fan fiction quotes 2019:

"with great foods, came great emotional baggage"[X]extra funny since I just saw Into the Spiderverse

"Just get together every couple of weeks, without Stark, and you guys can pass Steve around like a bong."[ch2]whaat? And chapter three is a dirty parody - worth a read for the humor of it

"he just hopes Tony has the sense God gave concussed baby sheep "[X]interesting phrase

"“Science,” Jane says, drawing his face to hers, “Does not require pants "[X]fun series of short fics

"Never something so hot; not like a flame is hot, but the strength of something bathed in summer sun. "[X]interesting view on attraction

"(He'd been sketching when he thought that through; now there's a page that has a little cartoon of himself, ducking, with the caption "the spoons are attacking!" although he'd ended up finishing his latte before he actually drew any flying spoons.) "[X]Steve upon learning about spoon theory

"Can you think of anything that symbolizes the eighties better than David Bowie’s crotch in tights? "[X]giggle out loud! "You drink once if someone whines, if Sarah says something isn’t fair, or if we get a shot of Bowie’s crotch. "[Same]comment

"“Like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin?” Natasha finished for him, understanding. Sometimes, after what they’d been through, it was hard just to be in your body. Easier to dissociate, to let whatever was going to happen happen while the part of you that was you floated far away. Natasha had been there before, and she knew James went there sometimes. "[X]ponder?

"They’re each wrapped up in their own blanket burrito, lying side by side in the dark, sharing one pillow. "[X]dual blanket burritos

"For most of his life he learned the safest option was to repress his emotional responses as much as possible, and over time he forgot how to access them when he actually needed to. "[X]relatable to a small degree

"Nothing too special but I’m pretty much Michael Bay’s wet dream "[X]to describe bakugo lol

"Most people," Midoriya continued gently, "don't need to be told they have a crush by the person that they have the crush on."[X]my boyfriend can relate to Midoriya here...

"about how if Midoriya could go this long talking without breathing in any new air, he'd probably be really good at kissing. "[same]lol

"God, fuck off. You look so freshly screwed that it hurts me. "[X]Bakugo ;p

"After all, shodō is one of Shouto’s hobbies. For Midoriya’s birthday last year, he made a beautiful poster of UA’s motto that is now displayed prominently above Midoriya’s bed. "[X]draw? If i can? "Please don’t use your All Might voice when we’re making plans to have sex. "[Same]lol

"He’d known for a while that his boyfriend internalizes, that he still struggles with a lot of insecurities and periodic depression from his years around his dad "[X]comment

"Shouto you’re worth more than anything. And you deserve happiness. I don’t care what micro-dick has said to you in the past or any shit he spews out of the mouth that’s somehow more obnoxious than Present Mic "[same]dam it Endeavor :/ "You’re a dork,” Izuku mutters in a break for breath. “Your dork,” Shouto says quietly "[Same]awww

"But if you ever forget your phone again I will use you as an advertisement balloon for a day, and that’s a promise."[X]lol

"First of all, I challenge you to find a dress that can fit that shoulders to waist ratio.” Shouto replied, matter-of-factly, pointing at Izuku’s entire body. “Secondly, you absolutely lack the manners to be a princess, you brute.” "[X]part of a series

"Another young woman that couldn’t be older than Shouto and Izuku looked up at the call. She had a round face and long, brown hair with little orange streaks every now and then collected in a braid. The red rimmed glasses she wore made her yellow eyes look bigger, behind the lenses. She lit up, when she saw them. "[X]need to try to draw

"You’d die of embarrassment— Either that, or Aizawa-sensei would kill you. And I kind of like you alive, thank you very much.” "[same]LOL

" is standing there in grey sweats and a loose Totoro hoodie he got him on one of their first dates "[X]draw

"It definitely didn’t help that Izuku stretched lazily, something akin to a cat just waking up from a nap, one of his legs stretching against the wall as the opposite arm reached towards Shouto with fingers spread wide-open. "[X]DRAW!

"What? They’re really short, all my boxers showed and it was weird. "[X]...

"Just because he isn’t as obvious about it, doesn’t mean Shouto isn’t beyond anxious too. "[X]comment

"He doesn’t treat Shouto like he is fragile, but he treats him like he is precious, and that is an important distinction"...."Something precious, however, doesn’t necessarily break easy, but it warrants the utmost care. It’s meant to be cherished. "[X]relationship advice

"One of the national dishes has no meat in it, but it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever tasted. I thought we were all going to die and T’Challa was going to succeed in eliminating us. Then I heard him yelling at the chef, saying none of us were used to Wakandan peppers.” "[X]https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688724/chapters/19918951#workskin

"All Tony was supposed to do was fix the alternator. Instead he built me a Jeep that tells me I have to initiate a proper launch sequence before I’m able to turn it on and drive.” "[Same]comment

"I’m sorry,” Midoriya retracts his hand, and Todoroki misses it instantly. “It’s not something I can fix, and that makes me sad. You don’t deserve to hear the things he tells you.” "[X]reread comment. Relatable to a degree personally

"But he has to admit the Docs greener side is awfully useful in a brawl; and his less menacing side has a wicked sense of humor, not to mention awfully good with a med kit. "[X]i like Bruce having a sense of humor

"That's what friends are for anyway, having your back when times are tough, and amusement for when times are peaceful. "[X]amusing

"Bucky didn't think he was being rude, but if Captain America said so, it must be true. "[Same]comment

"Steve’s always been a fan of cuddles, even if he doesn’t like to admit it, admit how much he needs that physical contact. "[X]I'm a fan of this concept

"Which in Steve-speak means that you’re feeling guilty as all hell over things you can’t control – again, mind you – and you can’t rest because you can’t shut your brain up.” "[Same]relate "There’s power in this act, Darcy thinks as she sucks and licks up and down his length. To be able to take someone apart with just her mouth and a few touches of her hands. Reduce them to tears or send them flying upwards into the heavens. And the knowledge that she wants to do this for him – for them – makes the feeling all the more potent. She doesn’t have to do this, but it’s her choice, and she wants to give this to them. "[Same]ponder more

"She may not come from it, but the closeness and the intimacy is far more important than any orgasm. "[X]remember

"He knows better, knows that Bakugou’s punches of greeting and movie nights at Yaoyorozu’s house with Mina, Hagakure, and Tsu, and that baking with Izuku are all love. That’s love, not the villain sat behind the desk. "[X]dark fic, author warns in notes. But this line is sweet

"Natasha Romanoff is a world-class spy, yes. But she’s also a potato chip thief who makes dumb jokes and uses emoticons (she had been very adamant that Steve learn the difference between emoticons and emojis), and Steve adores her for it. "[ch5]she's human

"Bucky flopped onto it rolling around like a dog on the soft surface, Natasha quietly responding by taking out her phone and videoing his nonsense. "[ch2]Mr. Kate style rug cuddle but solo

"“First of all, just because someone is good looking does not mean I should have sex with them. There are attractive serial killers Nat, do you want me to get murdered? Second of all, I don’t know him. Third of all, he’s not looking at me like I’m chicken wings, also Clint, seriously? Chicken wings?” "[same]lol, but I'm with you Bucky

"Even in just plain sweatpants, the American icon without a shirt was an image that would have anyone seeing stars and stripes, regardless of sexual orientation. "[X]:)

"Agent Bishop was hit with a biological weapon today that has a ninety-two per cent chance of ending in fatality within three days unless proper care is administered to disperse the chemical compound through natural methods. Meaning, in the case of humans, sexual release. As in, orgasming."[X]a legalese description of "sex pollen" ...

"Do the horizontal contra dance, yes," Darcy answered. "Well kind of, I mean there's only three of us and a contra dance is four to a group, but tango is just for two and I had to think of something fast. Come on, Stevie, this isn't the first time we've hooked up. "[X]lol

"He wanted something just for him again, even though he felt like a selfish asshole for even thinking it. So he would do whatever he could to chase after that feeling. Even if it was stupid. Even if it was silly. "[ch2]advice, remember "Tony must never read these, Steve thought. Bucky’s arm would never be safe. "[ch3]Steve Discovers FanFiction "Steve stayed focused on the screen, sticking out his tongue a little while he concentrated. It was unfairly adorable. "[ch4]Jarvis knows how to motivate Steve: a Bucky themed typing game "Good things would happen. Funny, clever jokes would be told. Sexy adventures were always available, no matter what was happening in the real world. "[X]relatable "There was even a page of ‘Bucky Approved Sex Words and Phrases’. The name alone never failed to make Steve smile "[ch7]lol "He wasn’t really writing this stuff for the money anyways; mostly he just wanted to see that other people liked and enjoyed what he was doing. "[Same]relatable: my redbubble rowan-artist

"Darcy’s eyes widened. “Oh god, I just imagined you naked, dusted in gold, on a satin-sheeted bed. My mind is a dangerous place.” “Hey, there’s always Halloween.” "[ch6]you being Steve

"Jane was rapidly nearing the angry-bear stage of sleep deprivation (there were seven levels on the Dr. Jane Foster Sleep Deprivation chart; angry bear was number five, between 'genius-level insane productivity' and 'sugar high five-year old'), "[X]also Dean Fury ... "Then you come to me, we'll kill a bottle of Jameson and make Thor carry our drunk asses home while we sing Les Mis horribly off-key," "[same]amusing

"This is why you should always read end-user agreements on friendships. "[X]not the fic but the start notes, lol. Also, Maria's entry is adorable, and Pepper potts!! "(“So what you’re telling me is you spent a week building a glorified roomba,” Rhodey says the first time he sees it, and Tony lets out an undignified huff and makes JUNK-E destroy and clean a grand piano.) "[Same]hahha

"And it’s better to be an asset, which at least sounds like something you value, than a glorified action figure. "[ch3]comment "Steve’s friendship is stronger than even Steve’s shield, and protects them both just as much "[Same ch9]awww

"Bucky actually is, but she knows well enough not to ask. Instead, she has started braiding flowers into Natasha's hair while the other girl of the group is busy making a flower crown for Thor. This is what it must be like to have real friends, Bucky thinks, lounging in his camping chair, trying to eat with one hand while Steve is holding his arm, drawing on the inside of his forearm with a black pen. "[ch2]flower crowns "I heard a lot of things I kind of projected on myself. It's probably stupid, but… it's always crazy to hear things that apply to oneself somehow." "It's the magic of music. Sam once told me about the Mr. Brightside effect–" "[ch4]yes "Bruce is on his own so much that he probably doesn't even notice that he has friends "[ch5]relatable, high school me

"The most beautiful thing however was the wall right next to the bed-- while all the other walls were the same off-white color, this one sported stripes of different colors down. Blue, red, green, purple, black, another shade of lighter blue. In the middle of these stripes, the Avenger signs were painted by a meticulous hand; Cap’s shield, Tony’s arc reactor, Mew Mew, and so on-- Darcy didn’t notice she was crying into Mara started wailing in solidarity "[ch1]draw?

"He knows it, like Steve and Bucky know that Tony needs praises and affection, not commands. "[ch8]...

"She thanked Sif (a habit she had started lately, thanking the Asgardian warrior instead of some non-present God, because really, if there was a god she wanted to follow, it would totally be Sif) "[X]nice Darcy "Even if she wasn’t an Avenger per say, she got to be on the team, both super and nonsuper alike. "[ch2]awww

"Elizabeth is going to make coffee happen, and in Darcy’s eyes that makes her a goddess. "[X]comment "By the end, Steve had been right in the thick of it, using a frypan as a shield and hurling pasta like nobody’s business. "[same]comment "Agent Hill’s bad ass levels are through the roof, but put her in front of a powerpoint and the result is coma-inducing. "[Ch3]lol "JARVIS, my man, I need some fat beats up in here. Help a sister out?” "[ch3]comment

"She knew now that it was almost certainly to do with her personal level of comfort and how hard both Steve and Barnes had worked to make her feel good. "[middle chapter]comment

"A video clip of the Asgardian scientist Tadeas and Neil Degrasse Tyson singing a scientific ballad of their own composition was one of the most viewed Youtube videos of all time "[X]lol "He grabbed [a muffin] and shoved it into his mouth, belatedly peeling the paper off. "[Same]haha! :D "Darcy put a box of Sour Patch Kids on top, “Those are for Heimdall.” "[X]comment "“No. Damnit, Darcy. You’re stubborn. Of course you’re stubborn! Jesus Christ, I can’t even imagine what it must like to be in the same room as the two of you.” "[X]best friend sass "But Clint is a human with a bow on a team of superheroes. "[X]Darcy's favorite avenger and why Ch4 music note "Apparently Thor is back on Earth. He showed up in New York right after we left and basically deafened all of Brooklyn with his displeased shouting about his missing Shield Sister. So now everyone knows I’m gone and my disappearance is trending on Twitter as #MissingAsgardianPrincess. How is this my life?! I can’t even with this shit.” "[X]mild spoiler? HAHAHA "Try having a conversation with one of them [asgardians]-- 4 to 1 odds it turns into some sort of ballad recitation. "[X]...

"The next day, Izuku Midoriya delivered his eleven page elaborate essay on how ordering sex toys inspired him to be more honest with himself and his boyfriend about what he wanted in life and in bed. "[X]lol

"“Fire for stop, ice for slow, and smash for go.” "[X]comment

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Two Degrees of Jeff, part 1

 or more properly:  Two Degrees of Andy Jeff

Summary: Two days in the life of Andy...er....Jeff, and his skeleton friends.

Notes: I’ve always liked an outside perspective on my favorite boys and Jeff’s is fun to write. Warning for mentions of depression.

Also on AO3

By Any Other Name masterlist, recently updated!

~~*~~

The Beanery was, by far, not the closest coffee shop to Jeff’s apartment. By his reckoning, the bus took him past two Starbucks on the way here. He didn’t mind going out of his way to meet Stretch, though; thanks to the ‘Monster Friendly’ symbol stickered on the window glass up front, they could pretty much guarantee being able to meet in peace for a coffee and a chat.

Not that they’d had any issues past the whole ‘bus incident’ but eh, why take a chance? Plus, they had great coffee.

On this particular morning, Jeff got there early so he could buy his own coffee before Stretch could do it for him. Passive-aggressive, maybe, but hey it worked. He wasn't quite at the same level with the baristas as Stretch was, but she gave him a smile of recognition before taking his order.

Twenty minutes later his coffee was gone, and he was still waiting. The buses in Ebott were pretty dependable and to be honest, so was Stretch. He loved texting, Jeff couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t send one or several if he was running late, probably laced with bad jokes and puns.

He gave it ten more minutes before sending one of his own. hey, you running behind? Not to get on your ass, I know you don’t actually have one

At the very least, that should have gotten him an lol, and more likely a bombardment of terrible jokes. But his phone remained stubbornly quiet.

Jeff chewed his lip, considering. He could text Edge, let him know he was a little worried. The problem with Edge was he didn’t do anything by halves and would probably be on his way home or send out the hounds or something. They were meeting for coffee, not planning world domination, there was no reason to hit worst case scenario right out of the gate.

Option two was to take a ride over there himself. It was only about a fifteen-minute ride and another bus would be here in five. If Stretch didn’t get off the bus, then Jeff was getting on it, he decided. He gathered up his stuff, tossed his cup in the trash and gave the barista a wave before he went out to the stop.

A few monsters got off the bus, one of them he recognized from the wedding and they gave him a toothy grin as they walked past. No skeleton monster though, so Jeff scanned his bus pass and took a seat. With his luck, Stretch was on the next one and they’d be like ships passing in the night, but eh, he’d rather risk acting like a bad romantic comedy than just sit there waiting.

No text came, no sign that Stretch was only running late. At the gate to New New Home, the guards checked his ID diligently even though Jeff was here a few times a week, and Jeff thought he might mention that to Antwan, let him know they were doing their jobs right. It was probably boring hanging out at the guard station all day, they could use some recognition.

The shuttle dropped him off and the brief walk to the house offered no answers. Edge’s car was gone, no surprise there, and a peek in the garage told him that his motorcycle was inside, beneath a heavy dust cover. Not that he thought Stretch had taken it out for a spin or anything; from what he knew, Stretch hated driving which was why he stuck to the bus.

Jeff knocked hesitantly on the door, then a little harder, and waited. The minutes ticked by and after a moment of internal debate, Jeff gingerly turned the knob. The door swung open, unlocked, into the darkened front room. Okay, now he was getting more than a little concerned.

The living room offered no clues, and neither did the kitchen. Not so much as a coaster was out of place, only a coffee cup was drying in the dish rack. The coffee pot was on, at least, half a pot still sitting on the warmer, but there was that faint, burnt smell in the air that said it had been there for a long time.

Jeff had never been upstairs and felt like an invader going up them, every creak accusatory.

The first room was locked and he left it alone. The second was a guest room, the blankets drawn tightly over the bed with military precision and the paint a welcoming sunny yellow. The third revealed a large bed, the blankets and pillows rucked up around a shape beneath them.

Okay, now he knew where Stretch was, so what did he do? Jeff shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, trying to decide. Let him sleep? But maybe he was sick or hurt or something, maybe he needed help.

It felt so completely wrong to walk around the bed, leaning in to get a look at him.

The covers were rising and falling ever so slightly with his breathing and his sockets were closed. It really was fascinating the way their skulls moved; they weren’t pliable like human flesh but somehow it worked. Magic, the universal answer to all Monster questions.

“Stretch?” Jeff whispered, reaching out to gently shake him, trying again, “Stretch?”

He stirred, his sockets blinking open. His eye lights were wide and almost fuzzy, and Stretch looked at him in confusion.

“andy?” Stretch asked, his voice rough. He cleared his throat and sat up. The blankets slipped down and left him bare to the hips and Jeff felt his face warm, looking away.

It was a note on how much his perspective had changed that he could be embarrassed to unintentionally see some naked bone. But then, Edge and Stretch didn’t look like Halloween decorations or science room displays; their bones were kinda similar to humans but not completely. Plus, they were so very obviously alive, their magic was visible in their joints, and the way their skulls were somehow malleable. They were Monsters that looked like skeletons, an important distinction.

“andy?” Stretch said again, and his gaze sharpened, taking in the room. “what...uh…” He hauled the blankets back up a little more modestly.

“Sorry, I was worried,” Jeff said meekly, a little embarrassed at coming all the way out here to creep into Stretch’s bedroom like a fucking idiot. Should have texted again or maybe knocked harder, he should’ve done something. “You weren’t at the coffee shop and…”

Stretch’s groan interrupted him, and he flopped backwards on the bed. “fuck, i’m sorry, i just…i was having a bad day and i went back to sleep.” He didn’t seem worried about Jeff sneaking into his room like an idiot, but then, that was Stretch all the way. His concepts of proper behavior were a hell of a lot looser than the ones Jeff had grown up with.  “i completely forgot we were supposed to meet. i’m really sorry.”

“It happens,” Jeff shrugged that off. To be honest, he was only relieved that nothing was wrong. Except— “Is everything okay.”

There was a long pause as Stretch seemed to actually consider the question. “yeah. i think so…shit,” he said suddenly, “i haven’t been outside to see the chickens, don’t even remember shutting off my alarm.”

“You want some help?” Jeff asked, equal parts hesitant and curious. “I haven’t seen the chickens yet outside of Instagram.”

That got him a grin. “sure, handy andy, come on out and live up to your name. give me a minute to get dressed, I’ll meet you downstairs.” He hooked a thumb at the door and Jeff went, sitting on the sofa until Stretch tromped down the stairs, dressed from toes to throat in jeans and a heavy sweatshirt, a bright knit hat on his skull.

The chicken coop looked sort of like a gingerbread house, except instead of Hansel and Gretel, three birds came barreling out of an entrance near the bottom, clucking eagerly as they waited by the wire mesh gate.

“sorry, gals, it’s a little late,” Stretch sighed, gently pushing them back with his toes as he opened the door. The chickens milled around his legs, getting even louder as Stretch poured feed into a little trough. They were bigger somehow than Jeff expected but what the hell did he know about chickens? He was more familiar with them in their nugget form.

Stretch left the door open as he came back out. “give them a minute and they’ll wander out to inspect you properly. c’mon, let’s have a seat.”

Beneath a large tree was a frankly charming little patio that wouldn’t be out of place at a sidewalk cafe, with chairs and a small table. Stretch dusted fallen leaves from both and sat down.

“you’d think the leaves would drive the Edgelord nuts,” Stretch said, stifling a yawn, “and that he’d have them bagged and tagged before they hit the ground, but he actually likes them. tries to say they’re good for the grass.”

“I like them, too,” Jeff admitted. “I didn’t see too many leaves where I grew up.”

“yeah?” Stretch chuckled. “me either. okay if i smoke?”

“It’s your yard.”

“it’s your lungs.”

Jeff shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me, go ahead, just exhale the other way.”

It was chilly out, well into October as it was, but in a good sort of way, the kind you could enjoy on your face so long as the rest of you was bundled up. There was a faint hint of smoke as Stretch lit his cigarette, but the breeze carried it the other direction. They were both in warm sweatshirts in the same autumn colors as the leaves, and it was nice to sit out here and watch the chickens, take in the breezy air.

Or at least Jeff thought it was, until Stretch tapped the ash of his cigarette into an ashtray on the little table, saying quietly, “i really am sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jeff insisted because seriously? What else did he have to do anyway? Nothing that he’d enjoy more than this, for sure.

“except for how you had to drag your ass all the way out here,” Stretch said. It was his tone of voice that was really bringing home how serious he was. Stretch had, not an accent exactly, but a way of speaking that was sort of laconic, his words rounded and easy. Right now, he sounded more like Edge, all crisp syllables.

“It’s not even twenty minutes and I was coming here later to meet Antwan anyway,” Jeff countered. “I didn’t have to take an Alaskan expedition or anything.” For a minute, he thought that was it and they could move past this, maybe enjoy the morning.

“you should probably know i’m not a very good friend,” Stretch said abruptly, ruining that hope. “i have a fuckton of problems that edge already has to deal with, so i won’t blame you if you want to back out of the whole friend thing.”

“Seriously?” Jeff groaned. “Man, you overslept one time. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“No but…look, it doesn’t make you an asshole to not want to deal with me.” He exhaled long and slow. “i have depression with manic episodes, ptsd, plus a laundry list of issues i could put together for you.”

“Okay,” Jeff said slowly. “So, you’ve got a diagnosis. From your therapist?” Something about that made a flash of discomfort cross Stretch’s face and he ducked his head, looking at his untied shoes.

“yeah,” he muttered.

“Good, that’s much better than WebMD. Besides, if you look there, it’ll probably say you have cancer.” It made him laughed a little in a way that sounded more like him and Stretch shook his head as Jeff went on, “We’re friends, okay? Even if you fuck up sometimes. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to fuck something up.”

Stretch gave him a wobbly smile. “you think you’re going to fuck something up?”

“Oh, I know I am,” Jeff said matter-of-factly, “If there’s one thing I’m great at, it’s fucking up. But if we’re both fuck ups then we make the best of friends, right?”

“i’m not sure that theory pans out. might need a little more study.”

“Sounds good.”

The chickens had wandered out of the coop during their stroll through the emotional minefield and were at their feet, shuffling through the leaves. Jeff flailed a little when the largest one hopped onto his leg, riding his wild movements easily and plucking at the front of his shirt.

“Oh,” Jeff stared at it in surprise, his hands rising and falling as he tried to decide what to do with them. “I didn’t know chickens were…friendly.”

“these ones are pretty friendly,” Stretch grinned. “they’re all hens. you can pet her, go ahead, noodle likes it.”

Hesitantly, he did, stroking the soft white feathers as the chicken clucked. “Oh,” Jeff said again, softly, “they’re nice, aren’t they.”

“They are,” Stretch said. His tone was a little odd, a little quiet, but Jeff’s attention was on the chicken in his lap. The other two came over to inspect his shoes, demanding their share of his attention and Jeff couldn’t help laughing, trying to pet all of them at once while Stretch only sat at watched him, lighting another cigarette and smiling.

end part 1

Read Part 2