lonestarfangirl2014

[lonestarfangirl2014]

story time: i taught my little cousin her first longer word when she was very young. i taught her to say “tax benefits”. and to this day my aunt still doesn’t know where she got it from, but it was a hilarious sight to see a little toddler waddling around the house, wearing a big diaper, all the while yelling “TAX BENEFITS!!!!”

[lonestarfangirl2014]

So recently I haven’t been able to stop thinking of this au where Reiko is still alive and is the leader of an exorcist clan based in Hitoyoshi. She doesn’t know about Takashi’s existence until he’s a teenager, but when she does find out about him, she brings him home to her. I just love this idea of Takashi having a family that loves and accepts him unconditionally, somewhere that he can belong. So here, have a short excerpt of the fic I’m hoping to post eventually. _____

“You’re one of the Natsume boys, aren’t you?”

The question catches Takashi off guard, and he looks up at the lady standing behind the cash register of the convenience store he’s in. She’s looking at him with open curiosity, and there’s not a trace of hostility or contempt in her expression, so he lets his shoulders relax.

“I am,” he replies, tilting his head in confusion. He’s been in Hitoyoshi for less than a day, his grandmother having brought him home the night before, and though he has met a few of the other clan members, many of the cousins closer to his age are currently away on assignment and won’t be back until the next day. He doesn’t know what any of them look like, and so wonders what about him had tipped the woman off.

She smiles, delighted. “I thought so! I would recognize those lovely eyes anywhere!”

Takashi flushes scarlet. “My eyes?” he asks.

She nods. “The only ones around here with such beautiful green eyes are from the Natsume Clan. And would you look at that hair! Goodness me, you look just like Reiko-san when she was your age!”

“She’s my grandmother,” he says with a smile, before dropping into a polite bow. “My name is Natsume Takashi, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Her grandson!?” the woman gasps in surprise, and comes flying around the counter to get a better look at him. “Oh my, oh my, I didn’t think it could be possible! Ever since lost custody of her daughter all those years ago…But never you mind that. Welcome to our little town Takashi-kun, we’re happy to have you here! Have some meatbuns, on the house. But you make sure Masayoshi doesn’t get his hands on them, you hear? That boy will finish them all off if you let him.”

Takashi can’t help his smile at the obvious fondness in the woman’s tone; he doesn’t know who Masayoshi is yet, but he’s looking forward to finding out.

As he leaves the convenience store with repeated assurances that he’ll tell his grandmother how much her assistance with the pesky youkai the week before is appreciated, he can’t help the giddy smile that crosses his face.

There’s something lovely, he thinks to be recognized for his family.

He’s lived with members of his father’s family for most of his life, with so many aunts and uncles and cousins that sometimes he struggles to remember them all. But it isn’t until he moves to Hitoyoshi that he finally understand what it feels like to belong unconditionally.

Every part of him that had ever set him apart as different in his father’s family is exactly what marks him so clearly as a member of his grandmother’s family, from the green eyes and silver hair, to the youkai sight.

He meets Masayoshi the next day, and Takashi recognizes the tilt of his own smile beaming out of the perpetually happy 22-year-old’s face.

He catches tiny little 6-year-old Misa in his arms, and marvels at the way the silver of her hair catches the light.

He locks gazes with his grandmother, and sees his own eyes smiling back at him.

And finally, he’s home.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Lok’Tar Ogar

(As usual, all the names have been changed to protect people’s privacy.  LONG POST so press “J” to skip or start scrolling because I can’t make cuts work for Moblie, sorry.)

Back in 2004 I went to a cousin’s wedding and my mom got into Fandom.

Ruth, my Mom’s-college-roommate’s-daughter was getting married to a man of mixed reputability in what had been for several months had been the primary sitcom of the family- mushroom vs. champagne draperies, the bride wanted a small ceremony and the mother of the groom wanted to invite every business contact she had, and then there was the problem of the Rabbis- Ruth’s rabbi had mostly retired but had promised to marry her in her youth, David’s had promised the same and the current Rabbi of Ruth’s synagogue wanted in too, so they agreed to be married by all three Rabbis.  Furthermore, any Jewish wedding requires a Chuppah- a canopy under which the ceremony takes place.  Mom agreed to make one for Ruth and David’s wedding, (MUSHROOM-colored of course, not champagne) and escort it there personally as we were attending the ceremonies.

Alas, the wedding was in Columbus, a terrible place. 

Southeast Ohio is generally a rather nice place- on the far northern end of the appalachia it has lovely rolling hills of deep hardwood forests, a spectacular zoo and many other things a scientifically inclined teenager might enjoy but I was not going to those, I was going to a Wedding, where I had been guilted into being a flower girl on account of being the youngest available cousin, along with my sister.  I spent most of the drive from Colorado in a state of spectacular teenage misery, which was almost entirely obliterated when we got to the hotel.

The guests of the Hotel consisted thusly:

My family (4)

A small herd of fancy-suited businessmen there for some obscure finance meeting (30ish)

A jolly and boisterous horde of Gamers, Cosplayers, Geeks and Freaks present for the World Of Warcraft convention immediately across the street (several hundred)

I didn’t actually know a damn thing about WoW, other than it was something my geekier friends in middle school played, and that it had elves with ridiculous eyebrows, but I know how to make friends with the kind of people who wear nothing but bodypaint and prosthetic ears in public and started talking to the gang of Blood Elves at the breakfast bar while the businessmen huddled together at their table like a group of musk oxen forming up against a pack of wolves.

Eventually mom wandered over and joined in the conversation- after years of making Halloween costumes, stage props, miscellaneous fabric constructions like the Chuppah and so forth, she’d gained an extensive knowledge of what fiber can be made to do, but wanted to know what marvelous things these people were doing with plastics.  She hit it off particularly well with the Troll over his teeth, and they decided to confide in her.

“Hey, here’s a fun thing to do-” Said the blood elf, before trotting over to the edge of the mezzanine overlooking the lobby.  

“LOK’TAR OGAR!”  she bellowed as loudly as her tiny, corseted frame could manage. “FOR THE HORDE!!!” Roared back several dozen Warcrafters, shaking their con-safe weaponry and causing several of the businessmen to duck for cover.

“Yeah, if you need anything, just yell that.”  she nodded, before we parted ways.

Later that night, Mom slipped in the shower and sprained her ankle, which resulted in a moderately panicked but ultimately boring visit to a clinic to get it X-ray’d and acquire a wheelchair.  The next morning, however, we had to proceed to the wedding, and discovered that the elevator was out of service.

A Chuppah, if you’re not familiar with one, is roughly the same dimensions and weight as those pop-up tents they use at gentrified outdoor craft fairs, or about 9 feet long and close to 60lbs when folded up.  This one was closer to 100 once all the memorial images and sentimental fabrics and special tent poles had been added on.    Mom was stuck in the wheelchair, Dad was in a state of near panic at Mom being injured and also having to be somewhere On Time, and my sister and I were liquefying in the summer heat and the bride-mandated mushroom-colored seven goddamn layers of itchy-ass tulle flower girl dresses, barely able to lift the chuppah between us.

In short stairs were not happening and three quarters of us were about to riot but Mom is definitely the smart person in the family because she remembered-

“LOK’TAR OGAR!!”

“FOR THE HORDE!!”

“I NEED SOME HELP!”

Instantly the cosplayers from the night before were there, along with a dozen more.  Two beefy trolls carried Mom down the stairs and clean out to the parking garage, someone else got the chuppah, and the Blood elf managed to get concierge to bring our car around to the curb with our destination already programmed into the (VERY PRIMITIVE) gps.  I thought my dad was going to cry with relief.

“So [Gallus].”  Mom asked me on the way to the wedding.  “People who like videogames. Do they all have Magic Words?”

“Yeah most of them have some kind of phrase like ‘may the force be with you’ or ‘live long and prosper’.  Why?”

She just nodded, storing that fact away for later.

The wedding turned out to be an event in and of itself- The mother of the bride fainted when they kissed, the rabbis nearly got into a fistfight, the mother of the groom fell off the chair and needed stitches, uncle Larry tore his pants on the dance floor then elected to remove them and keep dancing- and I managed to forget entirely about Mom’s question.

*

Last year, we were doing theater set-in at the same time the local theater and culture complex was hosting the small city convention.  It was July, hotter than satan’s own asshole, and the stage pieces were too large for both of our 5’2-and-under asses to move.

I came back out from wresting a Magic tree into the complex to find mom squinting calculatingly at a group of Marvel cosplayers.

“What are their Magic Words?”

“Huh?”

“The words you say when you want to summon them- ‘Use the Force’ or something?”

I blinked a few times, as my heat stroke-addled brain translated that.  “…Avengers Assemble?”

“HEY AVENGERS!” Hollered Mom. “ASSEMBLE!!”

INSTANTLY, an Iron Man and three Captains America sprinted over.

“What can we do Ma’am?” asked one of the captains, sticking rigorously to character.

“We need help moving these set pieces in and you have muscles.”  she explained, and without question everyone pitched in to move a magical forest, the front half of a castle and a dragon’s cave into the Children’s Theater backstage.  The Iron Man politely answered questions about painting metallics on Cardboard for her and all three Captains America lines up and saluted her upon emptying the truck.

“You’re dangerous.” I teased her as they returned to Con.

“Tell me more Magic Words- I need that tall one in purple to help with the lights.”  she said, gesturing to a Waluigi that was about to become familiar with the Children’s Theater Lighting System.

_________________________________

(If you enjoyed this story, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi or Patreon where you can pre-order my upcoming Family Lore illustrated Anthology.  Thank you.)

[lonestarfangirl2014]

my cousin just sent me a picture of a sock 

which normally wouldnt be cause for alarm but unfortunately I recognized the sock 

as i have another sock identical to it 

and i recently got back from my cousins house 

who lives 

In 

Romania

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Stop vilifying adults that live with their parents.

We’re still deep in one of the worst economic recessions of modern times. For many of us its not a choice but a requirement in order to survive. For many of us we have disabilities that make finding accommodation that suit our needs a lot harder and a lot more expensive.

Many of us pay into the household. Many of us are trapped in abusive households because we don’t have the means to leave. We aren’t moochers or afraid to leave the nest. The world simply isn’t built to support us anymore.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

So Beta sector declared the second Roman Empire in 2605, and the August Clan ruled for 53 years, until the Artemis tragedy happened in 2658

During this time, the Military were banned from Beta sector, and I imagine that included the Betan Military clan alliance.

I can't stop thinking of how heartbreaking that would have been.

All the older folk who had to flee their home planets and passed away in exile, never to see their clan halls again, never to be buried with their forefathers.

All the children who didn't have childhood memories of sleepovers with their cousins, of running through the clan hall and being surrounded by generations upon generations of their family's history.

All the young adults who never had their proper coming of age ceremonies.

All the presentation ceremonies and betrothals and weddings that had to happen in foreign lands, their joy tempered by the grief of being exiled from their homeland.

Do you think when the Military got the distress signal from the people of Artemis, they tried to send as many Betan military officers as they could? Do you think the people of Beta sector had that kind of Catharsis? The ones who had been exiled returning home in a blaze of glory and heroism to save the helpless civilians of their home sector?

And as much as there's heartbreak, there's also just as much joy.

Because 53 years feels so long, but in a world where people can comfortably expect to live to their hundredth, there would have been many older folk who DID get to go home. People in their 60s and 70s and 80s and so on, who had long lost hope of ever seeing their home again. They stepped through the interstellar portals, and were surrounded by the screaming welcomes of their fellow Betans, calling them home.

Children and teens who had grown up hearing wistful stories from their parents and grandparents, their uncles and aunts, finally setting foot on their home world, taking in the beauty of their planet.

Clan halls that had been empty and forelorn for 5 decades, covered in a thick layer of dust, suddenly echoing with the laughter of their family returning home.

Windows and doors thrown open to let fresh air in, old and young clan members alike spending days working together to clean their clan halls until the floors are gleaming and there are fresh sheets on all the beds and the whole building is steeped in the aroma of good food.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Devastating things about the earth girl series that you don't realize on the first read through or until after you read the companion novels:

Marack never once got to meet Jarra in person

The first time Riak ever sees his granddaughter is at his wife's honour ceremony and he can't even tell her that he's her grandfather

The first time Dragon ever talks to Jarra is when he's telling her about her parents' death (while dealing with his own grief about his cousin and cousin-in-law)

Riak loses his son and his daughter-in-law, and then immediately afterwards gets caught on the solar arrays during the carrington event and has to crash land solar 5

Riak finds out that his 17 year old granddaughter had gotten hurt rescuing him!

Jaxon has to deal with the fact that because of him, his parents never got to meet their youngest daughter, and Jarra will never know what it's like to have parents

The only reason Riak was the CO of the earth solar arrays was that he was holding the position for his son. He was about to retire! And then in the same year he lost his son, almost died, and then suddenly had to be the commanding officer of Alien Contact Programme

Drago gets to befriend Jarra, but he can't even tell his best friend that he met her

Riak went for a rejuvenation cycle and came back to find out that one of his closest friends had let his youngest grandchild go through a medical procedure that had a not insignificant chance of killing her. In the same year that he'd already lost his son.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

I think it's a misuse of your big platform to allow the spreading of transgenderism! We do not need those freaks on this earth

I need those freaks actually, and I'm going to use my platform to spread transgenderism like Judas spread his legs for Jesus.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

the secret to organising any kind of trip with your friends is to become the benevolent dictator. do NOT wait for everyone to provide a consensus on things before you book anything. do it and then ask for feedback after. do not ask people what they would like to do just tell them what is happening and let them all nod along like the sheep they are. this is the ONLY way to coordinate a group of adults in their 20s/30s

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Fic title: Evening Splendor

Midoriya Izuku worked hard, everyone agreed. He worked his fingers to the bones in training, and would often speak of years spent helping either his mother around the house or his uncle around his home.

"I sometimes help around his shop to," Izuku told his friends when they asked for his plans over the summer. "He pays me minimum wage, and I like it. I save my money for merch mostly, other stuff to."

Of course with the attack at the camp, he didn't end up going to the shop, he told them later, but he did help out around the house.

"Does your uncle have a big house?" Uraraka, one of his best friends, asked him.

"Bigger then mine." Izuku said with a shrug. "It was mostly vacuuming around the place, washing windows, watching his giant lizard." the green haired teen shuddered. "That thing terrifies me. Feels like it's going to eat me or something whenever it stares."

That of course got both Uraraka and Iida, Izuku's other best friend, requesting pictures. The picture of said lizard did indeed scare them.

"Oh god why does it have so many teeth?"

"Does it have a Quirk?"

The picture was shown to others in class, including the one of Izuku holding it when Bakugou claimed the boy made up the whole thing. Everyone fully agreed that Izuku worked his ass off. Who kept that sort of thing as a pet? Izuku's uncle apparently.

With this in mind, the fact that on a parental visit day, Yaoyorozu's mother took one look at Midoriya Inko, shouting out; "Is that you Atakani?!"

"Oh!" Mrs. Midoriya smiled at the woman. "Hello Yaoyorozu! It's good to see you again."

"You as well!" Mrs. Yaoyorozu said. "You got married?"

"I'm widowed now," Mrs. Midoriya said. "I married Hisashi, remember him?"

"I do. Did your parents disown you like they threatened?" Mrs. Yaoyorozu asked.

"They tried. Grandma and Grandpa held the money though," Mrs. Midoriya laughed. "Though most of that is tied up in stocks for me. I'm a nurse now."

"Well, congrats! I assume your sister took over the business?"

"Indeed. Grandpa kicked my dad out of the CEO position and gave it to her. My brother finally owns his own music shop as well. My son helps out around the summer for extra spending money," Mrs. Midoriya motioned to Izuku who gave a sheepish wave. The confused look on Mrs. Yaoyorozu's face made Izuku chuckle.

"Every one of mom's old friends get so confused when she says that," he told his friends who were giving him confused looks. Yaoyorozu walked up to him.

"Atakani? As in the owns of Support Inc. and Medical Hero?" she asked Izuku.

"Yeah," Izuku shrugged, as if being related to the owners of two of the largest companies in Japan wasn't a big deal.

"What?!" most of the class asked in shock.

"That's a lie!" Bakugou barked.

"No it isn't," Mrs. Midoriya said, turning to raise an eyebrow at the boy who went pink and looked down. She turned her face back to Mrs. Yaoyorozu.

"You never said anything about to me Ink-" Mrs. Bakugou began only to get cut off.

"I told you not to use my first name until you can control your brute of a son," Mrs. Midoriya said coldly. "My son reported that he still is called 'Deku' and insulted daily by that bully."

"It's boys being boys-" Mrs. Bakugou tried.

"No it isn't. The only reason I haven't reported your son for illegal Quirk use on my son that left him with first degree burns when he was thirteen and younger was because Izuku told me not to." Mrs. Midoriya told her. "You're not my friend, and until you can grow up I refuse to deal with you." She waved her hand. "Anyway I never told you because I am well aware you would have loved nothing more then to use me as a platform, which I respect. But I wanted actual friendship. When I realized your son was tormenting mine, I lost interest in telling you."

The chilly aura coming from Mrs. Midoriya lessened when Izuku covered his face.

"Mom, why do you have to play that card," he groaned.

"Because you are to willing to let people walk all over you. I blame your father," Mrs. Midoriya said before grinning. "Now, point me to the two people you have a crush on."

"Mom!" Izuku said, flushing.

"What?" Mrs. Midoriya said innocently. "I wanna know who caught my baby's eye enough he's not using his allowance for merch but to plot out dates," the last words came out as a sing-song and Izuku whined as his friends giggled.

"Wait," Kaminari spoke up then, confused. "If you're rich why are you like getting an allowance and working to pay for stuff?"

"Because just giving me money is a bad thing?" Izuku said slowly. He tilted his head in confusion. "My allowance is probably more then most but I like merch, and I work for extra. My mom's big on letting me earn my money rather then just giving me it."

"I get him some merch as do his aunt and uncle, but I'd never just let my son have a lot of money like that." Mrs. Midoriya shook her head.

"Indeed," Yaoyorozu said. "I myself work for the extra things my parents do not supply, though I admit I am paid more simply because I can also create certain metals or items that are in short supply."

"It's responsible parenting," Mrs. Yaoyorozu sniffed. "Image letting your child go around with money they don't earn fairly. We may have maids and other staff, but Momo cleans her own room while helping with the garden."

"Of course, but anyway- Izuku. Point them out," Mrs. Midoriya insists as her son flails.

"Mom!"

"What? I want to know who you're planning an evening of splendour with."

[lonestarfangirl2014]

A whisp of hair tickles his cheek, following the elbow resting on his shoulder. Lee glances over as Cass swipes the strands back behind her ear.

“So,” she says, very nearly dropping her plate. Lee reaches over and gently tilts it back upright. His sister Does Not notice.

He lets it fall. She doesn’t notice that, either. Rest in peace, Stale Piece of Olive Bread, Single Grape, and Sprig of Parsley (?). You will be missed.

“So,” Lee repeats. He follows her eyes, gaze landing on a frizzy mess of blond curls and vacant blue eyes. “…Ah. So.”

Cass’s fork twirls in the general direction of their new baby brother. Several other people in line at the braziers also look over to where she’s pointing, glance obviously back towards the two of them, leaning close, and then pretend to look away while very clearly straining to hear. What a place, Camp Half-Blood.

“We gotta fix that.”

Lee grunts. She’s right — rarely does he ever see a kid Will’s age so blasé and sad about camp for so long.

But.

The circumstances.

“We already talked to Luke, Cass.”

She waves a hand. Her fork very nearly misses his eye. Lee would like, for once, if she could maybe use perhaps one ounce of her prophetic abilities to be less of a klutz. “Eh, Luke doesn’t know everything. There’s gotta be something he didn’t try, something Will likes. I mean, I think I saw the barest little hint of a smile when Diana was cussing Michael out yesterday.”

“Achlys would smile at that,” Lee argues. “I mean, come on. He got flamed. It was embarrassing.”

“Fair, fair.”

Lee looks back at Will. He still sits at the edge of the Apollo picnic table, chin on the worn-smooth wood, poking vaguely at the food Diana got for him. There’s a decent spread — some of the roast chicken, some of the lemon potatoes, probably more vegetables than any eight year old would be willing to eat, but it’s not like they would know. Will barely eats anything. If it weren’t for the Twizzlers that keep disappearing from Lee’s stash under the floorboards, he would’ve stuck the kid on an IV already. It’s been weeks.

“We could maybe try the weapons rounds again,” Cass murmurs. “I know Luke did it on intake, but maybe —”

She glances over, peeking through the edge of her hair, and cuts herself off, mouth furrowing as she bites the inside of her cheek. The son of Hermes in question leans on one of his younger siblings, grinning as they shriek and complain, laughing as another kid empties out what looks like the entire camp stash of cutlery from her pockets. Lee’s not dumb — he saw the difference, too. There’s no demigod more kind and welcoming and determined than Luke Castellan, Lee knows it, Lee’s experienced it, but —

When Will came up Half-Blood Hill, he was sobbing. He scratched four other demigods trying to squirm his way back to where his mother was running back to her car, shoulders heaving with her own cries, face-tear streaked and laden with guilt as she watched him go. When Will was dragged to the Big House, he was there ‘til nightfall. When Will was placed, as all are, in Hermes, he didn’t leave the cabin for days.

Camp doesn’t usually see that. Luke doesn’t usually see that. And as much as the guy has seen everything, there’s nothing he can handle less than a demigod who desperately wants to go home.

It’s not something anyone brings up.

“We’ll give it a go after dinner,” Lee agrees.

It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing. It might help to get a tour of what Camp offers by someone a little more…qualified. Or enthusiastic, rather. Will’s eight, after all. What kind of eight-year-old doesn’t want to swing a real sword at a training dummy? Or, hell, at another eight-year-old? Not that there are many other eight-year-olds at camp this lovely April, but Annabeth is like…ten. Lee thinks. Eleven? Something like that. Maybe she’ll swing a sword around with the kid. She only tends to be lethal when someone is doubting her. She’ll probably be very lenient on someone who is just learning.

Well.

Like, one would hope.

Whatever. It’ll sort itself out.

He repeats it to himself as he sits down, plastering a wide smile on his face and meeting Will’s eyes. Will stares back, eyes big and dead, but Lee refuses to look away first, to look down. Eventually Will return his gaze to the brown mush he’s made out of his plate.

“Hi,” he hedges.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Will hums. From beside him, Diana sighs — that is the extent of what they usually get. A little more, actually. The hi was slightly more animated than usual. More like a single two-by-four than a rotting corpse, in terms of spirited greetings.

If Lee is anything, though, it’s annoying and persistent. It’s actually what led to his getting claimed last winter.

“You get something to drink?”

Will shrugs. Lee glances into his cup to see that he has not, in fact, gotten anything to drink.

“They’re enchanted, you know.” He taps his own cup. “Anything you ask for, you get. I get Green Apple Kool-Aid.”

“‘Cus you’re a freak,” Michael mutters. Lee shoves him off the table.

Will scrunches his nose. “…Enchanted cups?”

The look he levels in Lee’s direction is equivalent, he imagines, to the look the jury gave OJ Simpson on his first foray of the witness stand, but the allure of discontinued novelty drinks must be stronger than his suspicion, because he tilts his cup closer to him, thinks for a minute, and then says, “Coke.”

All three of them hold their breath. Even Michael, who is recovering from his recent trip to the ground. The cup slowly fills with sparkling amber liquid.

Will frowns.

“Hey,” he says, something akin to a pout taking over his face, “I asked for coke.”

The drink stops fizzing. It, too, seems to regard the young boy in confusion.

“That would indeed be Coke,” Diana says eventually.

Will scowls. (It is, probably unfortunately for him, a little bit adorable, because his cheeks are very pudgy and he has quite a lot of freckles and his whole face seems to scrunch with the movement. Like a baby hippo. Lee tries really very hard not to smile but it’s something of a losing battle, he thinks.)

“It gave me cola!”

Lee looks at Cass. Cass looks at Lee. Cass looks at Michael, then, and Lee looks at Diana, and they all kind of look at each other and envision the words what the fuck floating between them in wavy comic sans.

“That would be the case,” tries Michael. Lee can see that he tries very hard not to tack ‘you dumbass’ on the end there. Lee pats him on the shoulder in recognition for his efforts.

“I asked for coke!”

“Okay, let’s maybe back up a bit,” Cass thankfully says, before Lee can utter his very eloquent ‘huh’. “What are you asking for, hun?”

“Coke!”

“No, I — I, uh, I got that part.” She purses her lips very thoughtfully. “Are you thinking of, maybe, Diet Coke?”

“No! Regular orange coke!”

“Okay,” mutters Diana. “Okay, awesome, I love it when everything makes sense.”

“Orange coke!” insists Will again. And, like, yeah, they brought this on themselves. When Lee scraped off a portion of his food and prayed for more emotion from Will, he did not specify. He was under the unfortunate misconception that his father loved him and was not a sociopathic genie. That’s on him. But still. “The fruity one! With the orange lid an’ the F on the bottle an’ not the one with no bubbles! The coke one!”

“Are you thinking maybe of Fanta?” Cass says, finally. She makes a weird shape with her fingers. “Odd bottle shape? Neon?”

“Yes!” exclaims Will, visibly relieved. “The orange coke! The good one!”

The cup quickly ripples and changes into a liquid the approximate colour of their shirts, only harder to look at. Will narrows his eyes, drags it over, dips his tongue into it, and then lights up, chugging it down with the zeal and zest Aphrodite kids do cranberry juice.

“One thing they got right up here,” he says happily, wiping the sticky moustache off his top lip. He, for the first time, looks a little less like there is a giant aching hole in the centre of him.

All at once, Lee remembers the one time his mother took him with her to one of her conferences, deep down in Arkansas. They stopped for Wendy’s on the drive. Lee requested Coke. The cashier asked ‘what kind’. Lee stared blankly at her for a total of at least seventeen solid seconds before replying ‘uh, the…Coke…kind?’ and received a large disappointing cup of Sprite.

“Oh my gods,” he says. He now knows, he feels, at least an approximation of the shock Phaethon felt that one time. “You’re Texan.”

None of his siblings share in the euphoria of this realization. This eureka moment, really. Least of all Will, who seems to be wondering if he can, perhaps, put in a request to be claimed by another god with smarter children.

“Lee,” says Cass gently, “have you gotten dumber?”

“No, no, he’s Texan,” Lee repeats. “They’re like. They say weird shit down there.” He gestures at Will, who is rapidly shifting from bewildered to offended. Lee would feel bad if it wasn’t a little bit funny. “Coke means pop. Fixin’ means intending. Might could — actually, I’m not sure what might could means, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask.”

“It means might could!” Will cries. He throws his hands up in exasperation which would be better conveyed where his hands not still pudgy enough to have the little indents on the knuckles. Lee melts to the actual floor. “That’s like askin’ — askin’ what ‘the’ means! It means ‘the’!”

“Oh my gods,” breathes Diana, hand pressed to her mouth. “Oh my gods, he’s adorable.”

“What does ‘might could’ mean, he says! Nex’ thing I’mma hear’s gonna be some stupid Yank quest’n ‘bout y’all, I bet —”

There is a thump as Michael slides right off the bench. This time, Lee doesn’t even need to push him.

“Yank,” he wheezes, from the floor. There are real tears in his eyes. “You’re my favourite, kid, holy fuck —”

Will stomps his little foot. It’s so — tiny. Bite sized. The lights in the sole twinkle like crazy. He’s got Princess Leia on the heels.

Lee is going to melt into goo.

“Who authorized him to be this goddamn cute,” Lee whisper-yells. “Like, genuinely. Look at him.

“Believe me, I’m looking,” Cass says, smiling softly. She knocks their shoulders together, snorting as Will chokes on his own indignity, hollering something about and there’s no such thing as healthy brisket! how about that! til’ his freckly face glows.

“Oh, wait, shit, that’s real,” Lee says. “That’s — yo, he’s actually bioluminescing. Are you seeing this? I am seeing this.”

“Didn’t know that was something we could do,” Diana comments. She grabs her cup, empties it into Michael’s (making a truly — truly — rank concoction of milk and Mountain Dew, Lee physically recoils) and stares at it until it refills.

“Hey, Glowstick.”

Will freezes. The most affronted look Lee has ever seen on a child scrunches his squishy face. Cass coos. Michael starts cackling again.

“Who are you talking to,” Will demands, scowling.

Diana looks at him. She raises her eyebrows.

“You tell me, Johnny Storm.”

“That’s a — that’s a bad reference!”

“Just — here.” Diana slides over the cup before Will can get started again. “Here’s your coke, kid.”

Will squints at the cup for several seconds. Diana holds it out dutifully. Well, for a dutiful seven seconds before her arm gets tired, then she sets it down and moves her hand away.

“Mama says I’m not allowed two cokes in a row,” he says finally.

Lee glances over at Cass. She grimaces back.

Here we go.

Diana just blinks.

“What does your Mama say about throwing stones at people named Clarisse from the roof of the Big House?”

“She never mentioned.”

“Well, we’re allowed to do that here. The rules say you can have two cokes, too, if you want.”

Will screws up his face. He gnaws on his bottom lip. Lee holds his breath.

Finally, he takes the tiniest of little sips.

“I guess two cokes is kind of nice,” he says.

Lee smiles. He reaches over, paying close attention in case Will’s a biter — you never know at Camp Half-Blood — and ruffles the kid’s frizzy curls.

“Some good things about camp, huh?”

Will huffs. “It’s still not great.” He sets his cup down. His soda moustache sits at a firm handlebar. Cass muffles a snort in her hands. “But not bad for a bunch of Yanks.”

Lee decides that he will take that. A stubborn, sarcastic Will is better than a miserable one. They got time. They’ll get there.

Plus, when Michael takes a mindless sip of his Surprise Concoction and sprays it all over Diana’s face, hacking and cussing up a storm, Will even smiles.

Yeah. They might even get there soon.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Future Val and baby Franklin but also Franklin and reborn baby Val

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Mark Waid talked about his favorite moment writing Fantastic Four in today’s Marvel podcast. He said it was a page in his very first issue where Reed explained to infant Valeria why he called himself Mr. Fantastic and why he tried to make the F4 into celebrities. It was really about his (Reed’s) guilt.

I’ve read those particular panels so many times, they were my favorite or at least one of my favorites in the whole world comic books. I just went back and read them again. These two pages never failed to make me emotional.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

"I'm sorry, Valeria, but no. Doom will not take you to see this 'Chappell Roan'. Such a pedestrian performer is beneath Doom's dignity."

"Oh... I was really hoping you would. Daddy said he couldn't take me..."

"...What?"

"He's doing an experiment with Uncle Johnny and Uncle Ben in the Negative Zone and he said they wouldn't be able to leave for a week. I really wanted to go..."

"Then go you shall. And we shall have a fabulous time. This is the word of Doom, which is law!"

[lonestarfangirl2014]

My girl is an absolute menace

[lonestarfangirl2014]

Avengers Academy: Marvel's Voices Infinity Comic #9

Anthony Oliveira/Bailie Rosenlund