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platypanthewriter · 3 years

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Hook Possum 2/4

Art by @monsdasarah for Harringrove Big Bang!

CHAPTER ONE

After dinner, Jonathan Byers got out his guitar, and started teaching them camp songs. Steve resigned himself to weeks of Kum-ba-ya stuck in his head, but they heard a weird grinding, crunching noise in the distance, and Robin whispered “I think that came from the cemetery,” just to freak everyone out.

“The cemetery?!” a boy yelped, and Jonathan started playing The Bell Witch, because he was just as awful as Robin was.

“Little Betsy, the age of 12/Living in a dream, the first one to scream,” he sang, and Steve groaned into his hands.

“Invisible hands/Leaving their mark in the dark

Night after night/The Bell Witch attacked and attacked

Torturing Betsy/Until a circle was held in candle light.”

The littlest kids started climbing right up on Hook Possum. The air filled with stories of the Bell Witch, and how she could travel, she could be anywhere, and how the bathrooms at Camp Butternut Springs were always cold.

“They’re haunted,” Robin said, and Steve elbowed her, growling.

The bathrooms were always cold, because they were poured cement set in the hill, and the cabins warmer, because they were up the hill where they got some sun, and built of wood. Steve tried to explain it every year, but every year the kids all started running around and shrieking about the goddamn Bell Witch. The littlest kids asked Hook Possum to go with them to the toilets as it got dark.

Even Robin ‘Oh, that’s haunted’ Buckley took mercy, and didn’t tell them the local ghost stories. Yet, anyway, Steve thought. A small mercy.

When Steve found a kid crying outside the bathrooms after playing the mirror game—they stared in and said I hate the Bell Witch, over and over, watching until their faces looked creepy and distorted in the low, flickering light—Steve sat down on the ground and patted his little sobbing shoulder, and sighed.

“Look,” he said, “—there’s only one ghost around here, Hook Possum. Hook Possum is the ghost of possums who get hit by reckless drivers. The Bell Witch isn’t here, because of Hook Possum, okay?”

“I s-saw s-something,” the kid wailed, clinging to Steve’s arm, and Steve pulled his sobbing hanger-on back to the fire.

“Hook Possum’s our local cryptid,” Dustin was saying, and then he had to explain to the younger kids what a cryptid was. “Like Bigfoot,” he said, “—or the Loch Ness Monster. Or the Pope Lick Goat Man.”

“...the what?!” Hook Possum asked, startled, and Dustin’s chest swelled with excitement as his grin widened.

“The Pope Lick Goat Man,” Dustin breathed, “—was originally a farmer, who sacrificed his goats and who knows what else to Satan.”

“Dustin,” Steve sighed, as the story brought more kids around the fire.

“He was reborn as a twisted goat man,” Dustin said over him, because Dustin wouldn’t have any frantic children banging on the door of his cabin at two am. Dustin continued with relish. “He lives under the train trestles of Pope Lick Creek, mimicking the voices of dead loved ones to lure people into the path of the train. There have been so many deaths it’s illegal to go near there,” Dustin whispered, to his rapt audience of a bunch of children who were definitely gonna be too scared to go to the toilets that night, and they’d probably wet their beds.

“Dustin, come on,” Steve groaned.

“The trestle is over 750 feet long, and it’s a 90 foot drop,” Will Byers added, and Steve smacked his face into his hands, because he hadn’t expected that epic betrayal.

“When the train comes, there’s nowhere to go,” Dustin continued, with relish. “It’s said he’s so terrifying people leap to their deaths at the sight of him, even if there’s no oncoming train. Ninety feet down into Pope Lick Creek. That’s like jumping off an eight-story building.”

The kids gasped, and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as Robin stepped in, grinning evilly.

“He’s been known to jump down from the trestle himself, to attack cars underneath with an axe,” she said.

“Augh!” squeaked one little boy, and the kid Steve had rescued from the Bell Witch mirror game clung tighter to Hook Possum, sniffling.

“Hook Possum has a hook,” Robin told the squeaking kid, once Steve elbowed her hard in the gut, again. The kid did not look reassured. “—and the Goat Man lives in Kentucky, over a hundred miles away.”

“Hook Possum jumps on cars too,” Dustin said cheerfully, and Hook Possum said “Wait, what,” again, as Dustin climbed up on one of the logs around the fire, holding his finger like a hook.

“Hook Possum is the vengeful spirit of possums killed by reckless drivers,” Robin explained—far from helping—and started telling tales of drivers stopping to pick up hitchhikers that turned into massive, man-sized hissing possums in the passenger seat of their car.

“One account is weirder, because the guy was super drunk,” she whispered, leaning in, and the kids listened, riveted. “He picked up a hitchhiker, but when he looked in the backseat, it was just a coat around a fleet of possums,” she said with relish. “They climbed all over him, scratching and biting—”

“I’m a ghost story?” asked Hook Possum, and Steve spun in place to see him half-shadowed in the light of the fire, the flames glinting off his molded teeth, his empty mesh eyes skull-like.

“Uh,” he said, giving an involuntary shudder. “Yeah. Didn’t you know?”

“Don’t let anything get me,” the kid Steve had rescued from the bathroom sobbed, throwing both arms around Hook Possum, and Hook Possum patted their hair.

“I want real ghost stories,” said one of the kids around the fire, and Hook Possum breathed “You don’t think I’m real, kid?” with a little possum-y hiss in his voice, his silvery plastic hook reflecting the firelight, and the kid yelped. “I’m scarier than anything else out there,” he growled, and Steve, in all honesty, had to agree. The kid blinked huge eyes, and Hook Possum patted their head again, clumsily, nearly poking them in the eye as they giggled.

Steve groaned, smiling, and wondered if Hook Possum knew what he was letting himself in for.

That night, he patrolled by a cabin of boys talking about two travellers whose car was attacked by metallic thumps, and sure enough, the kids who’d been playing the mirror game and scaring the shit out of themselves all came and banged on the counsellor cabin door shrieking that they’d seen red lights in the woods, and demanded Hook Possum, who ended up costuming back up in the dark.

Steve helped tie the costume at the back of his neck, and Hook Possum lurched by him to listen to them wail. Steve could hear his confused growling from inside, and wandered out after a while to help.

They spent a weird three-quarters of an hour standing in the humid night heat, making up stories about Hook Possum, and Steve maybe, sleepily, told everyone his limited stock of possum facts three or four times. They eat ticks, the kids started reciting along with him. Their body temperature is too high to carry fleas. Steve could feel Hook Possum laughing against his shoulder.

“Can you sleep hanging from your tail?” one asked, and Hook Possum shook his creepy paper-mache head, shoulders slumped like maybe he really wanted to.

Steve patted his back. “Possums can’t actually do that,” he said, grateful to be reminded of a possum fact he’d forgotten. “They can use it to climb, though.”

“You are not helping,” Hook Possum hissed, as the kids started clamoring for him to climb a tree.

“Sorry,” Steve whispered back, thinking fast. “Uh, possums carry their young on their backs—” he started, and stopped, because that was obviously the wrong thing to say, and Hook Possum yelled as he got dog-piled to the ground.

“Harrington,” he hissed from the ground, and for a second it sounded so familiar Steve paused, frowning vaguely at the lake, until Hook Possum’s yells threatened to wake the whole camp, and Steve had to pick up the top-most flailing child and threaten to throw them all in the water.

“Go back to bed, all of you,” Hook Possum growled, and one of them hugged him.

“Will you walk me to the cabin?” she asked softly, and he sighed, staring—maybe—at Steve.

“Come on, might as well,” Steve told him, and Hook Possum snarled, but let the little girl grab his hook. He then stumbled off the step edge of the boardwalk around the cabin, flailing his arms, and Steve grabbed him by one gross fursuited paw, clicking his flashlight on. Since the little girl had the other one, and the whole horde of them trotted along surrounding Hook Possum, which made it slightly less weird to hold hands with him.

On the way back, Hook Possum was still unsteady, even without a kid yanking on him. Steve tried to keep the flashlight pointed squarely where the guy could see it, but he kept tripping over stuff he couldn’t see in the mask, so Steve kept holding his hand, leaning close to whisper ‘there’s a root in the path,’ and ‘step up here,’ and feeling like he was escorting a drunk date home from a party.

“...didn’t know you were into possums, Harrington,” Hook Possum muttered, laughing a little, and Steve snickered, thinking of the lines he and Robin had decided on if any kids wanted to talk about—about awkward things, like girls kissing girls. He hoped they didn’t—he hoped they all talked to Robin, who seemed much more qualified, but he’d practiced saying ‘I’m honored you trusted me’ in the mirror.

“I’m trusting you with my secret possum...thing,” he said, snorting a laugh. “Aren’t you honored.”

“More nervous,” Hook Possum whispered back, stumbling again. “Don’t take advantage of me out here, Harrington. I’ll play dead, I swear to god. I’ll hiss and bite you.”

“I’d treat you right,” Steve told him, grinning. “Get you ticks to eat or whatever. And carrion.”

“Oh, okay then. Gee. Thanks, man,” Hook Possum laughed, making a gagging noise.

“Eat your ticks, they’re good for you,” Steve commanded, and felt Hook Possum laughing harder.

When they got back to the cabin—finally—everybody else was trying to sleep, so Steve turned Hook Possum around by the shoulders in the dark, taking the hook, and feeling along under the awful mask to untie the suit. He helped lift the creepy mask—the face of it felt warm and damp with breath, and Steve shuddered—and then he tugged on the paws as Hook Possum struggled to extricate himself.

“...you don’t have to help,” he said, but he sounded tired, and Steve squeezed his warm naked shoulder.

“I don’t mind,” he said, and one of the other guys hucked a pillow at them, groaning.

“Get a room,” he mumbled sleepily.

“G’night, Possum,” Steve whispered, snickering again, and Hook Possum shoved him, but Steve was sure he heard a muffled laugh.

The next morning, everybody was kinda subdued, as usual—the kids that weren’t scared were more homesick than they’d realized, the excited kids hadn’t gotten very much sleep, and the kids that believed in ghosts hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, which was about three-quarters of the camp, thanks to Steve’s best friend Robin “That toilet seat is also haunted” Buckley.

It was the first really hot day of the summer, so Robin and Steve took everyone canoeing, and the shallows filled with splashing, giggling, and shrieks. Steve trailed his hands in the water, climbing in and out of the canoe at every opportunity to pick kids up so they wouldn’t overturn the boat. In the middle of the chaos that afternoon, when the kids were mostly too exhausted to row and too full of lunch to swim, but it was too damn hot to want to get out of the water, Hook Possum stalked by, wading straight into the lake, twenty, thirty feet out up to his chin, and just stood there, staring, smoke wafting from his mesh eyes.

After a few minutes of watching the floating, smoking possum head, Steve stuck his paddle in the water to bring himself to a splashing halt—the kids in the canoe yelped and squealed—and then he shouted paddling orders until they came up alongside the creepy apparition sticking out of the water like a malevolent buoy.

“Ho there,” Steve said, responsibly, “—non-invasive, helpful local wildlife! Are you in need of assistance?”

Hook Possum coughed, choking, and then growled, shaking his long papier-mache snout. “Temporary insanity,” he groaned. “Jesus. Even the water is warm.”

“Better than sitting in your own sweat,” Steve said cheerfully, having worn the damn thing. He remembered feeling like a dripping-wet half-rotten kitchen sponge, sitting in a sauna.

“Kill me,” Hook Possum muttered, sighing, and one of the kids leaned out of the boat and put a baseball cap on him.

“The shade helps,” she reported, and he sighed, looking even more ridiculous as a bedraggled, haunted possum head, smoke wafting from its empty eye sockets, with a baseball hat over one ear.

“...thanks,” he said, and she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, and digging out a tube of sunscreen. She proceeded to rub it on her ears, nose, and all over the boy next to her, who sighed.

“Uh, just...wave if you...start to drown,” Steve told Hook Possum, wanting to be encouraging, but uncertain how to help someone dying of heatstroke in a horrible old possum mascot costume who was presently up to their neck in a lake. He couldn’t see any expression on Hook Possum’s face, but he was pretty sure it was the face of someone with nothing to live for. “Uh. S’mores tonight? I think?”

“...I can’t eat in this thing,” Hook Possum groaned, with a plume of eye smoke.

“We can hide in one of the cabins,” Steve told him. “You can, um, transform. In there.”

“...like Cinderella?” Hook Possum asked, snorting a laugh, and Steve grimaced.

“I was thinking more like a werewolf at the full moon,” he said, and Hook Possum’s mask shook with laughter. “Don’t drown,” Steve told him. “I mean, if you die, you won’t get the money anyway, so you might as well take the damn thing off. And I’ll bring you s’mores. With extra chocolate. Chocolate is worth it, right? How d’you like your marshmallows?”

The creepy, lumpy mask turned to him, its mesh eye holes more alarming than ever with the way the sun hit the smoke. “...you giving me something to live for, Harrington?”

“Don’t die in a possum suit, man, you don’t want that on your gravestone,” Steve said fervently. “And think about the funeral. Everybody trying to say nice things and you in that thing. Have a heart—”

“I think the funeral parlor would probably take it off my body,” said Hook Possum, genuinely laughing, and Steve blinked.

“Oh. Oh, yeah, they probably would,” he said, nodding.

“Anyway, nobody’d come to my funeral,” Hook Possum said, snickering, and Steve leaned over and smacked his snout. The water around the canoe splashed a little, and the kids yelped, watching them in exhausted, overheated fascination.

“You’re not a possum,” Steve reminded the guy, who turned his head towards Steve again, probably to stare. Steve grabbed his painted snout, holding his attention. “You’re not a real possum. People would come. Max would come, and me—”

“...you think?” Hook Possum laughed, and Steve glared. “Okay, okay, sorry,” he said, sounding like he was grinning. “I won’t drown. Hook Possum says no drowning, kids.”

“I used to think Smokey the Bear did that,” said the boy dripping with sunscreen. “You know, just walked up to you and said ‘don’t start forest fires,’ like that. This huge bear. I was terrified.”

“I could just walk up to boaters and say ‘don’t drown,’” Hook Possum snickered. “Alongside the boats. Hiss at them.”

“Holy shit,” Steve cackled, letting go of the mask. “You should. Do it. Do it to Robin—her, look, over there—”

Hook Possum turned to look, and then moved silently through the water, his head floating along the surface like a duck gone wrong. Steve and the kids floated in the water, holding their breaths, until the other boat erupted in shrieks and overturned.

“Oh, he is so getting s’mores,” Steve wheezed, laughing until he could hardly breathe.

When the kids started to wander towards dinner, Steve found Hook Possum again, hanging onto the dock.

“You okay, man?” he asked, and Hook Possum nodded silently, so Steve crouched down to have a look. “You coming in? It’s cooled off some,” he said, and Hook Possum nodded again, but didn’t move. “...you need help?” Steve asked, and Hook Possum paused for a second before shaking his head.

Steve waited, and finally, Hook Possum cleared his throat. “Fuck off, I can do it, I’m fine.”

He obviously wasn’t. “You feel sick?” Steve asked, used to the first aid questions after so many summers helping around camp. “Tired? Shaky?”

“...just getting...cooled off,” Hook Possum muttered, but he didn’t move. The lake water was pretty warm, too, and Steve considered it, wondering whether it was even helping.

“Don’t be an asshole. You need a shower, some water, and a nap,” he told the stubborn six-foot tall possum clinging to the dock, and it hissed like it was born in the woods.

“...don’t need a nap,” Hook Possum growled, and Steve laughed.

“Well, lie down, at least. You’ve got heatstroke, dude.”

Hook Possum shook his head, so finally Steve jumped in the water next to him, put an arm around him, and pulled him towards shore.

“What are you doing,” he mumbled, but when he tried to push away he almost fell, so Steve grabbed him tighter.

“I told you,” Steve sighed. Hook Possum was staggering, leaning heavily against Steve’s shoulder, and vibrating with tension. “You’re gonna die in that thing. You can’t do this all summer.”

“Fuck you,” Hook Possum muttered, tripping as soon as they hit dry ground.

“I’ve got you,” Steve told him, grimacing, because it was probably ungodly humid in the wet fur suit, and he was pretty sure Hook Possum hadn’t taken his mask off to drink any water. The chatter and occasional yells from the food tent washed over them as Steve took him through camp to the showers.

As soon as they were inside, Hook Possum’s head jerked up. “Oh fuck no,” he mumbled, pulling away, but Steve held on.

“You need to get cleaned up and cooled off, and rest up,” he told the scary possum mask. “Seriously. You can’t mess with this shit.”

“‘M’fine,” Hook Possum slurred, and Steve shoved him around to untie the suit.

“I won’t look, jesus, I promise, I’ll close my eyes, okay? Just lemme help you get this off, and get in the damn shower.”

“...fuck you,” Hook Possum muttered, his shoulders wet and shivery against Steve’s hands.

With his eyes closed, Steve couldn’t tell whether Hook Possum had the grayish pallor, but he grabbed the moron by the back of the neck and held a hand to his forehead, which was feverishly hot.

“Get off me,” Hook Possum squeaked, staggering back, and Steve stepped back too, listening to the sounds of sodden fur paws stumbling around.

“You need me to stay with you?” Steve asked, knowing what the answer would be, but also wary of leaving someone who’d obviously never had heat stroke before.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” Hook Possum snarled, in a deeper register than usual, and it pinged Steve’s brain. He frowned, standing there trying to think of anyone he knew who was awkward and grouchy but good with kids, and called him Harrington. “Get out,” Hook Possum said, sounding exhausted.

“I’ll get you some water,” Steve told him. “Gimme the Hook Possum stuff, I’ll wash it.”

“...it can go in the wash?” Hook Possum asked, sounding aggrieved, and Steve snorted a laugh.

“It can go in the washtub,” he said. “I’ll throw it in and let it dry overnight.”

“Oh,” Hook Possum said weakly, then rallied. “Thought you were holding out on me. Secret washing machine in your bunk. ‘Cause you’re the owner’s son.”

“Yep, just me and the washer, holding each other close,” Steve agreed, rolling his eyes under their lids.

“You’re into some kinky shit, Harrington,” Hook Possum told him, and Steve felt the gross muddy Hook Possum costume shoved against his arms.

“Eugh,” he sighed, gathering up the paws and hook. “You know it.”

“That’s not gonna be dry by tomorrow, is it,” Hook Possum said, woodenly, and Steve wanted to shake him.

“Look, I can write you an excuse. Take a sick day. You can’t get right back in this thing. It’s fine.”

“...I’ll make it up,” Hook Possum said, in a rush, after a long pause. “And I’ll find something I can do, so I’m not fucking everybody over wearing this thing—”

“Dude,” Steve sighed. It felt weird not knowing the guy’s name, but equally weird calling him Hook Possum. “Relax. Take a chill pill. Nobody’s on your ass about this.” He turned to leave, but Hook Possum started talking again.

“...they make you do all the first aid, or what?” Hook Possum asked, and Steve snorted a laugh at his wariness.

“They teach us all basic first aid,” he said patiently. “You sure you don’t want me to stay? Because you sure don’t seem like you want me to leave.”

“Fuck you!” Hook Possum growled, again, rattling at the door of the shower stall like he’d stumbled into it.

“I’m going, don’t make me explain to Max how you fell and broke your face after I left you in here,” Steve called, heading out, gross stinking wet fur suit in hand. He dumped the whole thing—except the mask, which he thought might melt, even though it was tempting—into the big wash basin where the kids washed their own clothes, added a ton of soap, and poked it a few times to get the water through the fur. He found some apples and grapes in the fridge, added some cheese and crackers, and got a plastic cup of water. He sat it all in his bunk—in case Hook Possum just collapsed in his own—and grabbed the bathrobe he always brought just in case, and Hook Possum’s towel.

When he knocked at the showers, Hook Possum was silent, so Steve leaned in. It was dark, but the shower was still running. “...you alive in there?” he called, and heard Hook Possum laugh.

“Told you I was fine,” he muttered, burbling with the water hitting his face, and Steve went to lean against the stall door.

“Oh, sorry, should I put you back in the suit and dump you in the lake?” he asked. “Or just leave you here to get back to your bunk naked?”

In the darkness, Hook Possum was just a vague shape, but Steve squinted, trying to make out a face, or something. “Fuck you,” he said, laughing. “The hell are you gonna do, carry me in your arms?”

“I could,” Steve told him, always ready for a challenge.

“Oh, fuck you,” Hook Possum said, laughing harder, and Steve grinned, a little confused.

“I am the first aid officer, actually,” he bragged, having put himself on the schedule earlier. “You need me to sweep you across the threshold, I guess that’s what I gotta do.” There was a muffled grunt and a splashing thud in the stall, and before Steve could think, he had kicked the bottom of the door and jiggled the latch so it popped open, the way he had a zillion times before, when kids crawled under locked stall doors as a prank. He crouched next to the dark shape in the dim stall as Hook Possum scrambled back. “You okay?”

“Jesus fuck,” Hook Possum panted in a high voice. “What in the goddamn are you doing in here.”

“You fell, dipshit,” Steve told him, rolling his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yes! I am okay!” Hook Possum hissed, wedged in the corner. “Get the hell out of my shower!”

“Jesus, sorry, didn’t know you were a blushing maiden possum,” Steve told him, holding out a hand to help the guy up, but Hook Possum just groaned into his hands, so Steve shrugged, and left. The door slammed shut after him and latched.

“Go away,” Hook Possum growled, and Steve snickered.

“I brought you a towel, and my robe,” he said, and Hook Possum sighed. “And some water.”

“I’m fine, christ,” Hook Possum muttered.

“And I got you some grapes and stuff,” Steve told him, halfway out the door. “In the cabin. Lot of water in grapes.”

“...I’m okay,” Hook Possum said, after a pause so quiet Steve was wondering if he’d passed out in there. “Jesus. I’m not one of your...second graders.”

“No, because then you wouldn’t’ve been wearing that thing, or going without water,” Steve said crisply. “And I would carry you to your bunk, like a goddamn bride.”

Hook Possum choked on the shower water, somehow, coughing.

“You’re getting off easy,” Steve told him, his vindication lessened by Hook Possum choking like he was about to die.

“Holy crap,” he panted.

“You’re welcome,” Steve told him. “I guess. I hung your gross fur bag out to dry where it’ll get sun.”

“...didn’t even get the full service,” Hook Possum muttered. It sounded like he was still laughing, exhaustedly.

“What, you want the bridal carry? Because I’ll do it,” Steve threatened, and Hook Possum said something muffled, like he had his face in his hands. “I’ll just wait right here, ready to cradle you to my chest,” Steve told him, and Hook Possum groaned, laughing harder. It was hard to stay mad at him, because he was kind of giggling, in the tired way kids did when they couldn’t stop.

He wandered back into the cabin as everybody was singing camp songs, to see a big bony foot sticking out from under the flag covering Hook Possum’s bunk. It withdrew.

“You awake in there?” Steve asked, grinning.

“...no,” Hook Possum groaned. “What are you doing here?”

“Brought you some more water,” Steve told him, and after a minute, Hook Possum said “...just set it on the floor. I’ll drink it, I promise, jesus.”

Steve nodded, and wandered back to the fire.

PART ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

#harringrove big bang #Harringrove #monsdasarah #Fabulous goofy possum XD #YAY ART

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tossawary · 3 years

Text

Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction.

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything.

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK.

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either.

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...”

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH.

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan).

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point.

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

“Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example.

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things?

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH.

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here.

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation.

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?”

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!”

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.”

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down.

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on.

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders.

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking.

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension.

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever).

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea.

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant!

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does!

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

“‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

“‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes.

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.)

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent.

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.)

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss.

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master.

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control.

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers.

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

“He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later!

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into.

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

“He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

“Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations.

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him.

#tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #pride is not the word #tossawary commentary

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pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

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Fics I Absolutely Adore and Would Recommend to Anyone

I’ve been meaning to do this for a long, long time, because I love reading fanworks and they deserve a lot of love and I love sharing things that I love.

Obviously this isn’t everything, and if it’s not on this list that doesn’t mean I don’t love it, it just means I forgot at this moment. I will be adding to the list and I remember things or come across it again. (Trying to sort through my bookmarks and subscriptions is like trying to catch a fish bare-handed.) I’m also gonna shy away from the one-shots, even though I adore fun one-shots, just for the sake of organization. The list would be super long otherwise, and those are best sorted by fandom. Here... Here are just some brilliant works I want to rant about.

Disclaimer: I say “recommend” because I would recommend these works, any time any place, but do keep in mind the story’s rating and tags and stuff. Not everything is kid-friendly.

There is absolutely no hierarchy to the list below. They are added as I add.

Fairy Dance of Death

by Catsy ( @fairydanceofdeath )

Fandom: Sword Art Online Word Count: 660,282 Status: ongoing

「AU reboot of the entire SAO storyline, beginning from the premise that Kayaba Akihiko was obsessed with magic and Norse Mythology rather than swords and pure melee. As a result, he created the Death Game of Alfheim Online rather than the floating castle of Aincrad—a world in which player-killing is not a crime, and the nine player races are in competition with each other to reach the top of the World Tree. Multi-POV epic following the stories of multiple canon characters throughout the game.」

If Catsy wrote the SAO light novels and anime, SAO would be among the legendary series. Fairy Dance of Death has this amazingly simple premise of making Alfheim Online, the video game from the original series’ less-than-stellar second part, the game that the main cast becomes trapped in. However, it’s so much more. They took the characters and made them characters, and everyone gets ample spotlight—even background characters that normally wouldn’t receive a second thought. It’s masterful work, and to boot, there is a lovely frame of in-game mystery and player conflict. The organization is phenomenal and I aspire to world-build the way they did. Not to mention that stakes are so much higher and this series has ripped my heart to shreds more than once.

It has also brought me great joy, and even when I was in the dumps and didn’t want to read anything, a FDOD update made me pick up my phone and read when I otherwise wouldn’t have. It has a really special place in my heart. It updates once in a blue moon, but that’s okay.

Even if you have never seen a single piece of Sword Art Online, Fairy Dance of Death is still a great read. In fact, it’s the Better Version of SAO, if we’re all being honest, so I would especially recommend it if you hadn’t seen the original. Or if you have. The characters are given so much love and detail, to the point where Fairy Dance of Death’s characterizations are More Canon to me than Kawahara Reki’s work. It is just a beautiful piece of fiction, and it makes you question the depravity of man on levels that SAO shied away from.

Poisoned Dreams

by StrangeDiamond

Fandom: Genshin Impact Word Count: 82,852 Status: Complete, with a complete sequel and more to come

「 Every night now, Diluc dreams of death. Usually Kaeya's. In between these nightmares his life is falling apart. It doesn't take Kaeya long to realize that this is something much more insidious than simple bad dreams. His brother's life and sanity are on the line and there is nothing Kaeya won't do to save him. Bonus chapter added.」

In a growing fandom from a new game, StrangeDiamond swooped in and characterized these bad boys so well I think it’s canon. It really breathes life into the video game lore, and it’s an A+ depiction of awkward sibling re-bonding post-Terrible-Happenings. Poisoned Dreams can be read alone with a basic understanding of Genshin storybuilding, but StrangeDiamond has an entire group of fics and oneshots set in the same headcanon, and they integrate them really well and subtly together. Not to mention that the narrative style is really clever with making you question what is real and what is dream (a big point in this story) and the inner voices of the point-of-view characters are very compelling.

One Word to Change the World

by AgentMalkere

Fandom: Fairy Tail Collective Word Count: 43,988 (30 parts) Status: probably never coming back

「 In just one universe, Ultear called out to her mother instead of turning away and the fate of Fairy Tail and the world was irrevocably altered. These are glimpses of a world where a single word made all the difference.

In other words, welcome to the Butterfly Effect - Fairy Tail style. 」

It’s a really cute canon-divergent, and while the series makes no attempt to re-write Fairy Tail, it addresses the major events and just snippets in between. It does a good job at giving the vast cast ample spotlight, but it’s also an easy read. It’s special to me because it was the series that made me really pay attention to Bickslow in particular, and I respect that.

Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis

by aradian_nights

Fandom: Attack on Titan Word Count: 399,226 Status: Complete

「 Five years ago, an accident freed Eren Jaeger, Mikasa Ackerman, and Armin Arlelt from an experiment that forced the most extraordinary powers onto them. After five years of separation, of being raised apart to be heroes by a set of three very different adults, they meet again. As they uncover the truth behind their captivity they realize being free and being heroes are sadly nothing but an illusion. 」

This wrecked me.

I still remember when I read it. It was the beginning of 2018, and I had the flu and a lot of time on my hands, so I binge-read this. It was simultaneously the best and the worst thing I have ever done, because I resonated with it so deeply there were times I was just staring up at the ceiling wondering what was real. I empathized with the characters to a level I rarely achieve, and I empathize easily. I laughed. I cried. It was amazing.

I refer to this story in conversation to this day. It handled themes published authors have only dreamed of achieving. Heck, if Dani (the author) took out the names of the AoT cast and replaced it with new ones, it could be its own stand alone novel. It is worldbuilding from the ground up, and any fandom knowledge you take in with you is used against you like a knife leveraged against your throat. Yet, no one is out of character. It’s phenomenal. I would say more, but this is something I daren’t spoil for anybody, because you must be as wrecked as I was. Vigilantis Pretium Libertatis is a level of writing I achieve to gain as a writer myself. It is a masterpiece in every sense of the word.

Life in Glass Houses

by blueskyscribe ( @blueskyscribe )

Fandom: Transformers (Transformers Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass) Word Count: 119,900 Status: Ongoing (maybe, I hope)

「 No one would have thought Bumblebee and Knock Out were capable of getting along, but when they're stuck in a strange new world and their only hope of survival is cooperation . . . Yeah, they're probably doomed. 」

I could be biased because Knock Out and Bumblebee are two of my favorite characters, but it really is brilliant. Two enemies, stuck together—but not in an overly cliché way. It’s the right amount of cliché, with heaps moral conflict and inner conflict and sometimes just beating each other with a broom when no one is looking. It’s also a fascinating look into what makes a character the way they are in relation to the morals they possess, and how stalwart those morals can be. I can’t help but think of this story whenever I see or write a “role reverse” or mirror-verse AU. It does an excellent job at making all of the characters engaging and their own character, despite being in a mirror-verse.

Yesterday Upon the Stair

by PitViperOfDoom ( @pitviperofdoom )

Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 424,070 Status: Complete

「 Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it.

But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless. Even before meeting All-Might and taking on the power of One For All, Izuku isn't quirkless.

Not that anyone would believe it if he told them. 」

As a person who normally doesn’t read these kind of minor canon divergences, especially at the time of reading, I frickin’ love this fic. In fact, I think YUTS gave me a deep appreciation for canon divergence fics. It’s MHA in all of its glory but it’s so much more, and even the parts that rehash canon give new light to the characters and their points of view.

I had read Viper’s work before and saw Yesterday Upon the Stair filling my inbox, and then I finally watched My Hero Academia. It was one of the first MHA fics I read and it still has a very special place in my heart. I recommend this series to people who don’t even watch MHA; in fact, there are some who might prefer the darker tones and themes of heroism vs apathy to the main series. Not to mention the writing style is phenomenal, and I aspire to be that good. It made me laugh. It made me cry. Yes, tears streaming down my face crying. It is the best ghost story I have ever read.

the Vantage Point Universe

by Aggie2011 ( @aggie2011whoop )

Fandom: The Avengers (MCU) Collective Word Count: 1,032,651 (35 parts) Status: Ongoing (just slowed down)

「 Six months after the Loki incident, Clint isn't adjusting well. When an enemy from his days in the Army comes back to haunt him, he'll be forced to face a part of his past - and to move past Loki, if he has a hope of finding his place with the Avengers. (First of a universe created to center around Clint Barton) 」

// description taken from first installment

Have you enjoyed the MCU, especially the first-era Avengers phase, but like me, were disappointed in the fact that Hawkeye was barely there? The VP universe is for you.

I honestly have a hard time remembering what was canon and what was VP. And if it’s not canon, it should be. The VP universe gave so much life to Clint and to Natasha and to all of SHIELD and even the rest of the Avengers. It’s just...so good. It’s completely immersive. It focuses a lot on Hawkeye and Black Widow from before the Avengers team-up, as well as after, and it all flows together so beautifully. Not to mention that I can be reading a mission that happened pre-series, so I know that they are going to live with all of their limbs, and I still sit there on the edge of my seat the whole time.

The OCs, minor as they are, that are created for this are also wonderfully done. I can’t believe Dan and Phil don’t exist in canon. Every character, canon or no, is engaging and dynamic, it is a pleasure to follow each point of view. The emotional turmoil is also handled very well, and the VP universe carries the MCU trend of humanizing its heroes and takes it so much further.

Ghosts of the Future

by Evan Stanley ( @evanstanleyportfolio )

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog Word Count: comic (18 issues) Status: ongoing

「 About 200 years in the future, Silver the Hedgehog is an average kid living in San Francisco... except for his strange and terrible dreams of a dying Blue Hedgehog, a Black Hedgehog, and mysterious gems called "Chaos Emeralds". What will he do, when these "figments of his imagination" appear before him in his real life? 」

// description taken from first installment

Okay so this is the only one that isn’t an Ao3 story, but rather a comic on DeviantArt. However, it is still one of my favorite stories. Even though it takes the commonalities of Sonic canon and turns them on its head, GotF really treats the characters well. There are enough familiar world elements to create intrigue, but it is set in a completely different take of the future, so there is ample opportunity for world building and being able to engage with a completely new thing. I wish SEGA put as much love in the series (namely the games, because the comics are *chef’s kiss*) and all of its possibilities as creators like Evan Stanley do.

The friendship and family relationships in GotF are so diverse and all so fantastic to witness. It’s a keynote example of the new hero and the old veterans, and both parties are active and trying their best.

Do not be alarmed by the starting art style. Sure, it’s rough around the edges at first, but then it gets better, and then it gets gorgeous, and then you’re left there so stunned that it looks like just life canon art. And then you could be like me, blinking slowly as my small brain finally connected that this Evan Stanley is in fact the Evan Stanley. GotF is an amazing fanwork, but she also draws and writes for the Official Canon comics (the IDW ones now) and that work is also phenomenal and should be supported.

Whirlwind

by Lynse ( @ladylynse )

Fandom: Danny Phantom, American Dragon: Jake Long, Miraculous Ladybug, Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja Word Count: 75,556 Status: Complete

「 Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny really should've expected something like this when he got that phone call from Jake. (Secret Quartet fic) 」

I have to start by saying that I adore all of Lynse’s fics, and I chose this one simply because it is one of my favorites. But it’s all fantastic, one hundred percent. I also love Mirrored, the sort-of prequel to this fic, but Whirlwind just has the chaotic pure bean energy that each of the shows bring and it foils against each other so perfectly. This is the epitome of the Secret Quartet crossover, truly.

All fandoms and all characters get ample love, and the way the reader gets to see just how badly the characters’ assumptions are going is positively wonderful. It’s so easy to fall into the “I know what’s happening and so do the characters” trap, but Lynse leaps over it gracefully and lands in greatness. The fic had me smiling like a maniac one minute, and feeling sorry for my babies the next. Wonderful. Simply fantastic!

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monster-bcrn · 3 years

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SPOOKY’S 100 FOLLOWER SHOUTOUT!

Okay for real this is the fastest growing blog I’ve ever had hehehe. Never expected Grundy to get this popular this quickly!

Freaking love this zombaby and I’m so glad y’all love him too! As promised, gonna shout out some fantabulous bloggos that helped get Grundy to where he is today. XD

@akasupergirl/ @azombieme (I FREAKING ADORE GRUNDY AND KARA AND LIV. I swear Grundy’s loyal to Kara like he was to Shayera and Jade and Liv is totally his baby sister and is gonna protect her from.....everything. :P

Even pigeons, because they’re legion.)

@thecatgoddessbast (A blast from the past! Glad to see you again after I rampaged and caused chaos as a certain deranged pincushion of a mushroom way back in the time before present. XD

Now I get to do that as a zombie. :D Win/win!)

@starcityvigilante (OLLIE. FFFFFF-okay for real I’m HYPED to plot wacky ideas with you. Grundy has a MASSIVE grudge against Green Arrow and I’m like......*push these two together* you both get along right now.)

@folcire (We literally just started talking and I’m loving your Ivy already! Can’t wait to see how Grundy grows to see her the more he talks to her because they’re both sassy plant people that way. XD)

@themartlans (FFFFFF-J’ONN. Everyone’s favorite green uncle :D I freaking adore him and I HATE how the most he ever interacted with Grundy was him being tossed into the bay. >_<

They really need to talk more, and MAN! That Injustice verse of yours is SICK. Definitely hyped for making Grundy into an insurgent and a good zombie instead of Supes’ lapdog.

( Look at this face....LOOK AT IT.)

@blackwingsbluedings (One of the best Dick Grayson’s out there and definitely loving seeing Grundy be less smash and more “......hug?” They both need hugs I swear.)

@marvelousdamsels (We haven’t talked much but I adore your muses and I just hope Grundy doesn’t come off as too weird or clingy.......wait.......that’s......literally Grundy.....

:D)

@theirfirstexperiment (GRUNDY ON A RAMPAGE YOOOOOO! Better run fast. XD)

@amazonexile/ @gothamprens/ @captainstevertrevor ( Freaking love your muses and I love seeing Diana and Bruce actually WANT to help Grundy. It’s too easy just beating on Grundy and I love seeing them actually bother to try to get to the gentler side of the Hulk’s crazy cousin. XD)

@justiceebound / @nighttfight ( *slams fist on the table* YOU ARE AWESOME! Your Shayera is awesome, your Bruce is a national treasure and I can’t wait to throw Grundy at Supes and Diana, because these guys need a big reconciliation thing after all the chaos from literal years of slugging it out.

And I LOVE it. >:D)

@ofamazonia

@theamazondiana (Both of you are AWESOME Wonder Women and MAN I love plotting ideas. I’m tired of seeing Diana being turned into too much of a warrior while negating her role as a peace-maker and y’all NAIL her kindness and wisdom and need to give everyone a chance. Freaking LOVE IT!)

@raininginkyxto (LOL I always love imagining Grundy in Marvel and now poor Weasel is kind of stuck with him. XD Man, if the Hulks meet Grundy then that poor bar is going to really get smashed.....)

@notatomo (GIANT. Man I loved that movie as a kid and I LOVE the subsequent giant robot and tiny kid works inspired from it (example being the CRIMINALLY under-appreciated Sentinel series by UDON.) Can’t wait to see what happens when Grundy talks more to someone bigger than him. XD)

@liminalstctic (GRUNDY HEARTS TINY GIRL. XD Yeah he’s trying his hardest to help her. ;A;)

@dolceclavier

@gobsnacc

@adrenalinesaint

@ninelivesruined

@yellowskinnedwackyman (CREEPER! I’ll forever ADORE these two butts because they’re team Tree Lobsters.)

@collidingxworlds/ @thecursedhellblazer (I. Love. Your. Constantine. I swear I have so much fun writing Grundy trying to get drunk (and failing) and learning to cuss up a storm while still being a mad lad ready to throw down with mega-zombies to protect his tiny friend.

DC, make this friendship canon or so help me Grodd...)

@chaosmultiverse (I love your Klarion so much! He’s so much fun! XD And Teekl for the epic win!)

@raichoose (Herbert West and Solomon Grundy? THAT aIN’T GOOD! D:>)

@gctjinxd (Freaking LOVE your Jinx! LOL how she manipulates Freeze and how Grundy isn’t even REMOTELY phased by her powers. Like he is TOUGH. Even bad luck won’t stop him.)

@killcrcroc (BIG BAD KILLER CROC! I love your Waylon and I adore how he has a collection of watches and that awesome suit. XD Croc definitely deserves more love since he’s much smarter than he looks, and tough enough to even get Grundy to back down in a serious fight.)

@babydxhl (Baby Doll is criminally underappreciated and I love how she’s the opposite to Grundy. She looks child-like but is very crafty, mature and knows how to get what she wants, while Grundy is physically strong and big enough to bully his way into anything he wants, but is very simple and child-like and would rather watch the birds. XD)

@theednygma (An awesome Ed Nygma and I love how Grundy is so unsure of everything yet still goes along for the ride as a support. XD)

@sleightlyoffhand (BUNNY MAN! Okay the idea of Josiah monching on carrots in Grundy’s pocket makes me smile so much. XD)

@thanagrian (BIRD-NOSE! Honestly every time I think of Grundy and Shayera I get the feels big time. These two definitely deserved more than just two episides to give them a unique friendship.

(I love that STAR Labs mission so much in Injustice. XD)

@the-arkham-librarian ( I love Eliza so much! She’s crafty, stubborn, sweet and kind and just cares about everyone so much when few don’t. Grundy grew so attached to her I swear she’s like his little sister at this point. XD And he’s totes the best uncle along with Eddie.)

@fatherdamned ( I LOVE YOUR RIDDLER OMG! He’s so snarky but man he is SO DAMN FUN to write with! Grundy is there for his green friend, no matter what!)

@fartemis-crockpot

( I freaking LOVE Artemis and Grundy, especially in the Injustice Society stuff. Yeah Grundy’s been a butt before but he genuinely likes and cares about her and the rest of the team and I’m like....

Look at these bunch of a-holes. Yeah they’re a family and even if they’re bad.....they’ve got each other. And that’s what counts. C:)

@powerhours/ @lastofmars (Green dad? Green dad. I love your J’onn so much and I’m like *throws Grundy at green dad* Here give this disaster some love. XD)

@gothamdad (YET ANOTHER AWESOME BATMAN. :D)

@redsleuthed (TIM! I love Tim and I swear these two should talk more because Grundy doesn’t WANT to fight and I think just letting someone hear him out would help him immensely.

Plus that stuff with Freeze? Poetic cinema.)

@themusespace

@12thlevel (On this blog we stan socially awkward green boi with angery grandpa genius mastermind. XD)

@pluckyingenue

@seekthedarknesswithin (SHADE! I love Shade in Justice League where he constantly throws Shade at everyone so you can imagine how excited I was to see Shade on Tumblr! We haven’t done much but man.....even Grundy was excited to see an old friend from the Injustice Society/ Injustice Gang.)

@youstolemycoat (Okay, hands down, Nick Necro is so much fun to plot with. His Robin verse is so fun too and poor Grundy tries to help but a certain birdy won’t let him. XD)

@ufotm (Tiny alien baby. :3)

@thetrigonborn

@kitfreeman

@partcfyouruniverse/ @diamondcladclown ( An awesome mun and my goodness her Harley is EPIC! I love the metas about Harley too and you just GET HER. And that????? Is the sign of an excellent writer and mun.)

@bigbadkillercroc ( I love your Croc and the brotherly bond he has with Grundy! It’s so refreshing to see these two bonding instead of Grundy tearing off Waylon’s face like he did in the Solomon Grundy mini-series. :C)

@blizzardmuses (I LOVE YOUR MUSES OMG. Your Batgirl?????? I ADORE HER. I love Freeze as a member of the Birds of Prey and I love tossing Grundy at your muses because the guy needs love and an excuse to smash.....and I really love both lol.)

@starfirechan (You’re Starfire is so freaking CUTE! I love how she and Grundy get along so well since they’re kind of two misfits that aren’t very well-versed in city life. XD)

@gotham-crusader/ @maximummuses (One of the best Batman and Damian Wayne RPers out there! I have a lot of fun with our threads and even if they fizzle out there is so much heart to them that they’re some of my absolute favorites no matter what muse I put on. C:)

@teufortsquidman (PRAWN! Okay, a giant mega-zombie and an Eldritch abomination? Yeah they’re gonna be good pals lol. XD)

@tragedybcrn (Hands down one of the BEST Batman RPers I’ve talked to and plotted with. I love how Bruce helps Freeze and even Grundy try to be better than just crooks. Grundy though has had so many bad experiences that he can’t trust anyone anymore unless there is some SERIOUS help. But he’ll learn to at least try to trust Batman.....because Batman was genuinely nice to him.)

@krygothite ( I freaking LOVE your Bane! We haven’t written much but FFFFF0yeah he’s epic. XD And Grundy is kind of nervous about bringing Bane to Slaughter Swamp because Bane is tough but not kaiju-sized gators and snakes tough....

Or....maybe he is.....let’s test him. >:D)

@batvvmn

@redwinefangs (VAmpire Batman? Vampire Batman. We have an epic trifecta of vampire Bats, Freezy-wolf and zombaby Grundy and I LOVE it. These three are so much fun to plit ideas around. XD)

@bclaur

@stcrshnes

@titanicscionofthestars ( I freaking LOVE Sara! All across my blogs I love her and the way you write her! And I swear her reaction to Grundy being impaled????? MY HEART. ;A;)

@jcinthedance (JERVIS! Okat for real I love the image of Hatter and Grundy just enjoying a tea party at the asylum and being weird dorks. XD)

@adventurepunks (I absolutelky LOVE your Zatanna! She’s so fun and I’d love to plot more with her! :D)

@shesquiinnsane

@laughter-in-white (YOU????? Are??? Like the BEST Joker. Hands down. Your Croptop J is so much fun to plot with and he’s funny and being dramatic for Bats. And Grundy is like ‘yeah he’s crazy but he’s my crazy.’)

@yourfavoritesidekick

@smartvulpix (* glomps on you for being epic*)

@thehouseofivo (Your Freeze and Julian are AWESOME! Love throwing my guys at them both lol)

@lil-miss-romano

@sweet-tea-solly

@slauhter

@occultsleuth

@wiisectrpillar

@wonderlandcarpenter

@gunborn

#Rave to the Grave (Out of Character)#TOOK ME HOUIRS BUT I DID IT #Even if I didn't mention you you are STILL VALID #Love you all!

64 notes · View notes

spritewrites · 4 years

Text

time travel doesn’t change everything

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Characters: the Hargreeves siblings

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Hi everybody! This is a collaborative fic (wow!) that @ticklishhargreeves and I have been working on for a while, based on an idea that we came up with together about three weeks ago. We wanted to incorporate a bunch of the headcanons we’ve come up with recently into a fic. We hope you enjoy!!

Allison’s room could best be described as a bit of a time capsule; posters from the beginning and middle of her career, drawings that she’d made and been gifted as a child, and family photos in the form of newspaper clippings. Going through the drawers and boxes under her bed provided nearly endless entertainment. A small gasp escaped from her grin when she pulled out one specific piece of paper that she’d forgotten about — a somewhat poorly drawn chart that depicted each of the Hargreeves siblings’ most ticklish spots. The tickle fights they’d had as children were sparse, considering they only really had free time for about an hour a week, but damn, were they competitive. This was the cheat sheet that she’d made to always get the upper hand.

The colored pencil had smudged a bit, but Allison could still make out the faint markings of each of her brothers’ names. She smiled to herself, leaning back on a stack of books to read the chart. They’d been so young then, but she could still hear their laughter echoing down the mansion hallways, as clear as anything. She let out a small laugh at a note in the margin: Ask Mom for acrylic nails before next week.

“Everything okay?” Luther was leaning against her door frame, just a bit bigger than when they were kids, but still with that same kind smile. She smiled back.

“Just reminiscing. Check this out!” She held up the faded piece of paper for him to read.

“No way!” the large figure exclaimed, gently taking the chart from Allison’s hand and sitting on the side of her bed to look at it. “This is from all our —”

“Tickle fights,” Allison interrupted with a laugh, “yeah. Crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” an awkward chuckle from Luther masked the slight nervousness he felt reading his name accompanied by the bullet-pointed notes: squeeze his calves, scribbles under toes, tops of feet are weirdly ticklish??, kicks a lot. “God, I haven’t been tickled in… years, probably.”

“You were so cute,” Allison giggled, and Luther wasn’t entirely sure that he liked the look she was giving him. “I wonder if this is still accurate.”

Luther cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, um, no way to know for sure, so-”

She had tackled him to the bed before he even knew what was happening. “Only one way to find out.”

She sat across his knees - “You kick, remember?” - and gave one of his calves a squeeze. Luther bolted upright, gasping.

“Um, I think there’s another way to find out! See, I could just tell you-”

“No,” Allison smiled, squeezing again and enjoying the desperate noise her brother made. “I’ve gotta test it to know for sure.”

He got as far as “Wait, Allison, please-” before he was choking back giggles, trying to worm his way out of Allison’s hold as her long nails skated over his ankles. She grinned.

“Okay, so squeezing your legs still definitely works. How about your feet?”

“No!” Luther cried, burying his face in a pillow and nearly squealing as she traced gentle lines over his soles. Allison giggled at the sound, scribbling over his heels and leaning forward to keep his straining legs from kicking.

“Feet are still pretty bad too. Thank God the serum didn’t affect these, huh?” She skittered her nails around the tops of his feet, and Luther let out a screech into his pillow. It was taking all of his strength to not… well, use his strength.

“You remember that pedicure I dragged you into, right?” she laughed at the memory, and again at Luther’s quick nod into the pillow.

The screech turned into an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp when Allison held his toes back with one hand, and skittered beneath them with the other. Finally, he’d began to laugh an endearingly childlike giggle. “AH - Allison,” he attempted to catch his breath with a forceful gasp as his massive arms squeezed the pillow to his face, and his legs shook, “Allison!”

Allison laughed at him and his sounds, almost not wanting to stop. “Alright, alright, I don’t want to kill you. Not yet, anyway.” She rolled off his legs to lay next to him on the bed, grinning from ear to ear. “Looks like your weak spots are still the same!”

Luther groaned, trying to catch his breath through the pillow (he wasn’t confident enough in the color of his face yet to look at her). “That was mean.”

“Hey, I was just consulting the chart!”

“You wrote the chart!”

“And I stand by it,” she teased, giving his leg a poke that made him twitch. She grabbed the paper and left the room, satisfied that her victim was suitably tickled out.

Luther rolled onto his back, panting. “Screw that chart.”

—

As she was leaving the room, Allison couldn’t help but notice the absence of Vanya’s name on the chart. It wasn’t a surprising fact. They never included her in anything as children, not even tickle fights. This fact still broke Allison’s heart, but of course, with the opportunity to make up for lost time, it’d be foolish not to take it… right?

After spotting her much smaller sister reading on the couch, Allison made her way downstairs and plopped down right next to Vanya with a grin.

Ever since their trip to the 60s, the sisters certainly developed a strong bond. Allison was, quite possibly. the one sibling that Vanya felt the most comfortable with; Klaus being a close second. Her attention drew away from the book in her hands, and towards her smiling sister. “Hey, Allison.” Vanya smiled, setting her book down, saving her place.

“Hey, um,” Allison subtly hid the chart by her other side, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous glint in her eye, “Vanya, are you ticklish? By any chance?”

“Uh,” Vanya chuckled, shifting awkwardly with a shrug, “I - I think so. I mean, sometimes Sissy would touch my neck and it would feel kinda funny. Like the back, right here?” She touched the back of her neck to show her scheming sister exactly where she was ticklish. Big mistake.

“Oh,” Allison chuckled, not expecting this to be so easy. She sneakily reached her arm around the back of the couch, “Like, right… here?”

Vanya twitched, letting out something akin to a squeak as her shoulders jumped up beside her ears. “I think - hey!” Her sister had begun tracing wicked fingers along the crease of her neck, her nails sliding effortlessly between the wrinkles to get at the weakest points. Vanya scrunched like a turtle, reaching back to swat at the offending hands, but the light touch made her limbs turn to jelly and her effort was not very coordinated. The endless stream of bubbly giggles, however, was new.

Allison’s face lit up. “Looks like you are ticklish.”

Understatement of the century. Vanya opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a squeal when Allison’s tickles wandered down from her neck and over her shoulders, sneaking pokes in under her arms.

“Where else, I wonder…” Allison mused, and slid her hands down her sister’s sides. Vanya’s spine nearly snapped with how quickly she arched her back, letting out a gasp. “Oh, here?”

“Allison, please!”

“Please what?” She tapped a nail on the curve of Vanya’s waist, prompting a high-pitched giggle. Vanya shook her head, seemingly struck dumb by the overwhelming feeling. Another pinch to her side, and she wriggled, curling in on herself. Unfortunately, this left the back of her neck unguarded, and with a smile, Allison reached to tickle her there.

Vanya squealed. “Please, I can’t - mercy!”

Allison laughed at her sister’s reactions, easing off to just rub her shoulders. “Okay, so, neck and sides? Those are the big ones?”

The sigh of relief that escaped Vanya was soothing. “I - I guess so. I think?”

“Well, I still have more exploring to do, but I can be merciful for now,” Allison replied with a wink. “I’ll add you to the chart.”

“Chart?”

“Yeah, see?” She pulled out the piece of paper. Vanya’s eyes lit up.

“Oh my God, this is adorable. How old were we when you made this?”

Allison smiled. “I don’t know, ten maybe? We used to have these epic battles…” She trailed off, catching her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t - ”

Vanya held up a hand to silence her. “It’s okay. I’m included now.” She raked her gaze over the paper in her hands. “Luther was ticklish on his feet?”

Allison couldn’t stop her laugh. “Still is, I just tested it.”

“Shit, that’s goddamn… cute. All of these are so cute,” she said with a smile.

“Aren’t they?” Allison replied, snatching the paper once again with a cunning smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some notes to update and some experiments to run.”

—

It seemed like whenever she saw Klaus, he was always talking to some ghost. Usually arguing with them. Sometimes flirting, you never know. The conversation that Allison walked in on today, however, was definitely not flirting.

“Just shut up, you don’t have a goddamn clue… That’s what I said, you never fucking listen to - Allison!”

She paused in the doorframe, amused. “Am I interrupting?”

“What, this?” Klaus gestured vaguely at the armchair across from him. “Nah, nothing important. Just bonding, you know how it is.” He seemed to disconnect from Allison for a second, listening, and then shot a glare at the armchair. “Dickwad.”

Allison clapped her hand over her mouth at the insult, but not quickly enough to stop the laugh that escaped. Whoever it was, they had pissed Klaus off. “Okay, well, I was just going through some of my old stuff, and I found…” She pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper. “This.”

Klaus’ eyebrows furrowed. “Okay… What is that?”

��A chart I made when we were young, to win those fights we used to have.”

“What fights?” Before Allison could answer, her brother’s gaze flicked to the armchair and back to her. “The tickle fights? You made a… what did you say, a chart?”

She nodded. “It’s detailed.”

Klaus laughed. “So organized! Let me see -” He reached up, but she snatched it out of his grasp.

“Nope, this is valuable information. But, I could let you see… if you participate in the experiment I’m running.”

Rolling green eyes, Klaus scoffed and lifted his arms up, a playful smile on his face as he looked away. He clearly already knew exactly what these so-called experiments were; perhaps Vanya’s laughter from downstairs was a giveaway.

A smile played on Allison’s lips. She remembered how Klaus never really hated tickles, and acknowledged the note by his name: asks to be tickled all the time, listed alongside others such as SUPER ticklish armpits, tapped his hips once and he squeaked? maybe he’s ticklish there too? Haven’t tried yet. She laughed, launching her tickling fingers towards Klaus’ armpits, only to be stopped by him slamming his arms down at the last second.

“Sorry, sorry. Instinct,” he smiled, already giggling a bit, before lifting his arms again.

All of a sudden, his elbows shot down towards his hips as he choked on his laughter, “B-Ben! No!” Klaus collapsed to the floor within seconds, kicking his legs and screeching.

Allison smiled. Of course, only Ben could rile her brother up like that. Squinting, she smirked, noticing the placement of Klaus’ slapping hands, “Klaus? Ben’s not getting your hips, is he?”

The silly noises he'd been making between silent laughter was accompanied by a desperate nod, messing up his long hair.

“Good!” Allison exclaimed, a bubbly tone to her voice, before lowering herself to the floor next to her flailing brother. “What a long overdue discovery.” Her pinch to his left hip felt more real than Ben’s spidery ghost tickles, and he squeaked. Her hands moved quickly, though, to lodge themselves under his arms while he was distracted.

The yelp that left Klaus’ mouth was loud enough to make Allison flinch slightly, but her hands stayed put. “Allison,” he whined, squeezing his arms to his sides as he simultaneously tried to roll away from Ben’s way-too-tangible thumbs digging into his hip bones.

She raised her eyebrows curiously as she twitched her fingers ever so slightly, relishing in the squirms and adorable gasps that followed.

When Allison began to wiggle all ten of her fingers, plus the other ten digits, both on his worst spots, his eyes squeezed shut as his squeaks and laughs rose yet another octave. Curling in on himself, he shook his head, unable to shake either of his ruthless tickle-monster siblings.

“Tickie, tickie, tickle!” Allison cooed as she laughed along with him.

“What's wrong, Klausie? I thought you loved tickie, tickie, tickles.” Ben’s words were snide and Klaus could practically hear his stupid grin.

High-pitched giggles rolled out of his mouth as he grabbed onto a nearby throw pillow. “Stopstopstop, okay! Okay, jeez!” It was obvious that he wasn't that desperate for the tickles to stop; he really just needed a breather. Klaus threw the pillow in an attempt to hit Ben, but it just phased through him. Ben stuck his tongue out.

“Asshole,” Klaus grumbled at his invisible brother. Allison laughed again, before leaning over to whisper something into Klaus’ ear. A noticeable smile washed over his face as he looked directly at his ghost brother, crawling towards him.

Ben's eyes widened as he stumbled backwards, falling back onto the armchair. His arms flailed, not knowing how to defend himself since it had been such a long time. “Nonono, Klaus, what did she tell you? – EEP!” His reaction to Klaus’ quick and repetitive pokes to his stomach was immediate.

The notes on the chart read really squeaky, ribs and stomach (but be careful!!!), starts begging after mere seconds, & very gullible, so easy to tickle. Ben had always been super easy to trick into getting tickled when they were younger; asking him to reach things in high up cabinets, challenging him to keep his arms up, and tons of tickle hugs.

He hadn’t been tickled since before he died, but it was just as unbearable as he remembered. He couldn’t hold back a squeak as Klaus prodded around the soft area just below his ribs, throwing an arm over his face to hide his blush.

Klaus threw his head back and laughed. “Awww, I forgot that you were so sensitive, Benny! Guess now we know what’ll happen when you make fun of me, hmm?”

Ben wanted more than anything to snap back at his brother, but couldn’t possibly reply around his high-pitched giggle fit, so he settled on a squeal. “Allison! H-help!”

“She can’t hear you,” Klaus cooed, racing his fingertips up Ben’s ribs to elicit another adorable squeak, clearly amused.

Allison laughed at the image of her brother kneeling on the floor, ruthlessly attacking absolutely nothing. “No, but I can picture it. Remember those physical exams that Grace would give us?”

Every month, in order to keep them all in tip-top shape for missions, Grace would perform physical examinations. These exams, of course, included lots of pressing and prodding tummies with her cold robot hands, much to Diego and Ben’s dismay. Diego would often need to have a break after ten seconds, but Ben would always just giggle his little heart out, and could never sit still, try as he might.

Klaus giggled too. “Of course, dear little Benjamin could never stand those. Could you, Benerino?” Their brother merely cackled in response, batting helplessly at the tickling fingers. God, if this didn’t end soon, he was going to die again. Could ghosts die again?

“I… neeheed AIR, you asshole!”

“No you don’t,” Klaus replied simply, pinching at the skin right above his belly button. Ben shrieked, flailed, and ended up rolling off the armchair onto the ground. Klaus took it as a cue to stop and sat back, grinning at his work.

“What’s he look like?” Allison asked, not even trying to hide her sadistic smile.

Klaus grinned at the rumpled pile of ghost on the floor, who flipped him off. “Like shit.”

“Fuck off,” Ben replied, but he was smiling. Mission accomplished.

—

Diego frequently sat in his room alone, doing God knows what. The minute that Allison walked in, he was just twirling one of his knives in his hand. Turning around to look at his sister, who had been smiling at a piece of paper, his brows furrowed, “What?”

Allison couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she read the notes beside her stoic brother’s name: ticklish EVERYWHERE, pokes make him squirm, sometimes cries at tummy tickles, GET HIS BELLYBUTTON, & make sure he’s not holding anything. She remembered fondly how her and her brothers would always gang up on him and tickle him until he cried. Grace always had to step in to get them to stop. She cleared her throat, and looked over at him, turning the paper around to face him, “Remember this?”

“Oh, ... yeah, from those - those fights we had when we were kids. Yeah.” Diego placed his knife down on the desk, and moved to stand up, subtly trying to escape what he feared was about to happen.

“Hm, what kind of fights were those?”

“You - y’know. The -… the wrestling and stuff.” He silently cursed his sister for trying to make him say it; she knew that he absolutely hated the word, both hearing it and saying it… and experiencing it. Diego pretended to nonchalantly pace away in order to exit the room, only to make his way into the corner farthest from the door, where Allison was inconveniently standing.

“I heard a rumor… that you can’t move until I start tickling you.” Allison sped up the last part of her rumor, making it so he couldn’t cover his ears as he typically used to. Walking over to him, she grinned and wiggled her fingers in the air, eyeing his torso.

A grunt left Diego’s already reluctantly smiling mouth as he attempted to tug on his legs in order to move, “Dammit! Screw you, Allison! - ACK!” His eyes squeezed shut, embarrassed at the slight giggle that he’d let out without her even touching him yet.

“What is it, Diego? Surely, you've grown out of letting a few tickly fingers take you down?” Allison teased, poking his tummy with her two index fingers.

A snort escaped his mouth in an attempt to stifle the giggle fit that was bound to start as he doubled over. He tried to use his regained mobility to make a break for it, but it was too late. The momentum from the force he'd been using in his attempts to get away pushed him to the floor. He was absolutely cornered.

“Nonono — I-I, yes, I have grown out of it!” The way his arms were wrapped around his torso and the quick pace of his words, however, told a different story. “I’m seri - NO,” he yelped before dissolving into a squirmy puddle of silent giggles. Allison’s digits were swiftly poking and scratching at any spot they could reach.

“You’re what? Cereal? Serene? Can’t be serious; you’re giggling too much for that, silly.” Ever since they were children, Diego always seemed to bring out Allison’s most brutal teases. “It seems to me that you still might be the most ticklish one in this house, Diego! Tell me, how does it feel to have such a title?” She’d been able to latch her hands onto the sides of his stomach before wiggling her fingers into them.

His laughter rose in volume when he opened his mouth to speak, “I-It tickles! - Shit, shit,” he squealed over Allison’s coos, “Sh-sh-shut up!” Saying the word, along with his embarrassingly childish reactions to such simple touches, was enough to redden his face. A squawk left his mouth when he felt a clawed hand digging into his lower tummy, dangerously close to his bellybutton.

Allison stopped for a second, glancing down at both of Diego’s hands clutching onto her single hand on his stomach, and back up at her uncontrollably giggling brother. The grin on her face was the only thing that preceded her free hand flying straight towards his unguarded navel.

Diego weakly pushed at her hands as he kicked his legs and screamed. His cackles now echoed through the whole house. Both of her hands were squaring in on his stomach and fuck, he couldn’t take it. “Allison - fuck! I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, oh my God, stop,” Diego rambled quickly between gasps of laughter, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, much to his own chagrin, and Allison’s amusement.

He was just so fun to tickle. He always had been. Of course, Allison knew he wasn’t going to die; he was just over dramatic sometimes. “What’s the magic word?”

“F-Fuck off,” he growled.

Allison mimicked a buzzer noise as she continued to tickle and poke around Diego’s hypersensitive midriff, even adding a few pokes to his thigh, and pinches to his triceps, “Wrong.” She laughed at the rather adorable image of her brother, curled up in the corner of his room, hands flailing in an attempt to get the tickles to stop, and twitching away from every little touch. He really was ticklish just about everywhere.

“I've gotta tell Lila about this,” Allison chuckled, making a mental note. “Imagine her finding out that you're ticklish on your shoulders. And your chest? She's gonna have a field day, I know it.”

A squeal, “Noho, okay, okay, please! Pleasepleaseplease, fuck,” he rolled over, yelling when the tickles didn’t stop, “Fucking please, Allison! Pleehease.”

“All right, you big baby!” She decided to finally let up, chuckling at the residual giggles that escaped Diego’s mouth.

He clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Christ, I fucking… forgot what that felt like.” A warning look was shot towards his sister, “Don't you dare tell her.”

Allison grinned, poking him again and brightening when she was rewarded with a yelp. “I think we all did, and…” a quick spider over his tummy got him to curl up again, “I think I just might.”

—

Allison clutched the chart firmly in her fist, making her way up the many flights of stairs. Last but not least. She glanced at the notes by the scrawled out ‘Number Five:’ says he's not ticklish but we know he is, flinches when anyone touches his knees (especially the left one), and hiccups a lot after laughing really hard.

Bursting into his room, Allison, expecting him to be doing… well, whatever old man stuff he liked to do, was surprised to find her brother fast asleep in his bed. After all he’d been through, experiencing the apocalypse twice & back to back, he certainly deserved a nap or twelve.

One thing that all of the siblings agreed on, though silently, was that Five was utterly adorable when he was asleep, and not snapping at anyone. Surely, just a smidge less adorable than when…

A poke to the blanketed figure made his snoring breaths hitch, and then they continued as normal.

He’d napped long enough, Allison thought to herself, not knowing if he’d been sleeping for two minutes or two hours. Nothing could beat her infinite curiosity, though, about just where dear old Fivey was ticklish. It had been far too long, and she knew he was at least a little bad on his knees but there was no way that could be all. That little body definitely held tons of bottled up laughter over the years that just had to be let out.

Of course his right leg was sticking out of the mass of comforter and sheets. Of course it was.

Allison quickly spidered her fingers right above the hem of his grey knee socks, that he even wore to bed, apparently.

A sudden jerking motion under the covers followed as he stopped snoring.

“Fiiive,” Allison crooned in a somewhat warning tone. No answer. She pinched the sides of his knee, only to be awarded with a twitch and a “cough” that was far too loud to pass off as a cough.

“Fuck off, Allison,” Five’s sleepy voice, muffled by the pillow, piped up.

“Okay, rude,” she replied, going in for the kill, skittering all five of her nails over his knee cap.

He internally cursed at the choking sound that escaped his throat, as he pulled his leg under the covers, in order to provide some defense. The blanket reshaped itself as he curled up, and Allison thought she heard a grumpy sigh through the fabric.

“Y’know, you might’ve spent almost 50 years without other people, but I would’ve thought that you’d remember at least some of your manners.” Another sigh. “No apology? Fine then.”

Allison sat right down on Five’s bed, and grabbed his left ankle, pulling it out from under the covers.

Before he could teleport away, he felt unbearably light and spidery tickles along the back of his knee. A screech that he couldn’t hope to suppress left his mouth, but only took seconds for the bubbly giggles, and the violent kicking, to begin.

Allison’s steady hold on Five’s ankle turned out to be a major asset to her attack as his whole body thrashed around, tangling himself in his blanket and sheets. She couldn't help but flinch at the frantic movements and his other foot weakly pushing at her hip.

“Good to see little Five still has those tickly, tickly knees!”

“Allison! Fucking,” he squeaked, unable to hold back the helpless laughter, “Fuck you! I’m gonna - ACK,” another giggle. “Dammit! I’ll fucking kill you!”

The giggles laced with threatening screams were delightfully familiar. “Sure you will, Giggles,” she teased, prodding and squeezing around his entire knee, adding some occasional rib tickles into the mix to make him twitch.

Five’s hands flickered blue, but there was no way he could teleport with how unfocused he was. He felt like he was going crazy. It had been ages since he'd laughed so freely, let alone been tickled; certainly since before he left. The sensation, so completely disarming while also frustratingly familiar, overwhelmed him.

“Fuck you, I swear - shit! Oh my fucking g- Allison!”

“Yes?” She stuck her tongue out in concentration, digging into the spot just above his kneecap that made him scream.

Five was in hell. His hands were still glowing, but never enough to do anything goddamn useful. He could feel his leg twitching, trying to kick, but Allison was merciless, and she had a lot more practice tickling his thirteen-year-old body than he had fighting off her adult reflexes. The giggles pouring out of his mouth were starting to grow hoarse, though, and he was pretty sure that if this kept up much longer, he’d actually go crazy.

“F-fine!”

“What was that?”

“I said - ” The tickling stopped, but his eyes locked on where Allison’s lethal nails were still hovering over his ribs. Flushed, he choked back a giggle. “I said fine, you fucking - ”

“Fine what?” Allison aimed a poke at the space between two ribs and he jerked.

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The hands withdrew, and Five curled into himself, breathing heavily through the last remaining chuckles. Allison blew on two fingertips like a gun, and dodged the smack that Five sent her way.

“Fuck off. Hic.”

Allison’s eyes lit up. “There they are!”

“Huh? What are you - hic - talking about?” Five grumbled, pulling his knees into his chest and sucking in a big breath to try to stop the hiccups.

She grinned, pulling out the chart, and resisting the urge to reach out and poke his puffed cheeks. “I took notes.”

Five’s eyes widened, and he let out his breath, looking vaguely… impressed. “Holy shit. You’re thorough.” His eyes scanned over her scribbled words. “Diego? Really?”

Allison chuckled. “Really. I’m surprised you forgot, he’s the worst of all of us. Even worse than you.”

Five’s nose wrinkled, and he let out a childish snort. “Serves him right.”

“Oh, shut up, you ticklish little son of a bitch.” Diego muttered from the doorway... alongside Klaus, Vanya, and Luther.

Five spun and internally cursed at himself at the blush growing on his face, wondering how long the rest of his siblings had been there watching him get absolutely wrecked.

“I know you are but what am I,” he snapped back at his bigger but younger brother, who’d lunged towards him, ready for a battle.

Diego was blocked by Allison though, and he stopped, knowing not to cross her while she was in the terrifying mood she’d been in all day.

“Guys, enough. Can’t we have just one fun day without you at each other’s throats?”

“Y’know what, Allison, I know I didn’t get a very close look but…” Klaus clicked his tongue as his strong brows furrowed, “I don’t think I saw your name on that little chart.” He made his way over to his other siblings with an unmistakable glint in his eye and grabbed the chart from his sister’s hand.

Allison always did have the upper hand in all their tickle fights, and now they all knew why.

“W-well, that’s because I made it.” The look that her family exchanged did not go unnoticed, and she stepped backwards, ending up stumbling onto Five’s bed. “Hey, hey guys, wait - ”

The chart was updated that day; Vanya’s handwriting scrawled next to Allison’s name, alongside cackly laughter, super ticklish neck and armpits!!!, accidentally kicked Luther in the head, & best sister ever.

#umbrella academy #tua #tickle fic #tickling #ticklishhargreeves #my fics #ticklish!luther #ticklish!diego #ticklish!allison #ticklish!klaus #ticklish!five #ticklish!ben #ticklish!vanya

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jenivi7 · 3 years

Text

First Lines Tagging Meme

I'M SO HAPPY TO BE TAGGED IN THIS TWICE! Thank you @ink-flavored and @clyde-side !! (I almost just did this on my own too because I love babbling about my own fics...)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Now pinned and under a cut because it became a really long, really good introduction to me and my stories!

Hello!

Unnecessary and overly wordy introduction/personal musings: I love opening lines so much. When I worked at a bookstore, I used to open books and hardcore judge them on their first lines. I had barely any free time to read at that point so if it didn’t grab me in the first line or two, I put it back. The first Harry Potter book is actually in my pile of really good openers. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Subtle alliteration, HELLO??) So I'm super excited to see if my own first lines come even close to the standards that I apply to other people lol. MY OWN MONEY IS ON NO. I have the feeling that I'm so frantic trying to get the story down on paper before the good words disappear from my head that I'm not actually paying attention to the first line. BUT LET'S SEE, SHALL WE.

So just straight up going backwards, I've written and posted TWO BRAND NEW THINGS after being away from fandom almost entirely for 10+ years! They're drabble length but they're shiny and new! <3 (All available fics are linked!)

1. Tango:

She teaches them to dance so that they can dance with her but when Atem gets that mischievous smirk on his face and pulls Yugi into his arms, their bodies spark and the dance floor smolders at their heels.

(The fic is so short that this is a full 1/5 of it but actually, I think I crammed all the good stuff right into that first line. This already might be my favorite. Like it says there in the line itself, Puzzleshipping.)

2. No Betting:

Anzu sat at the kitchen table writing carefully calculated answers onto sticky notes before attaching them to a fourth-grade math worksheet.

(Peachshipping! This one doesn't pop off until about line five so here's the rest of that bit:)

She had the same arrangement with her spouse as most parents had. When the kids were good they were hers. When they were bad, they were his. And when they were winning at games because they picked up rules with uncanny speed and read their opponents with more insight than ought to be available to a child, they were definitely, definitely his.

3. If you wanted honesty that's all you had to say (working title):

When he realized that the figure sitting under the game shop display window and smoking wasn’t Ryou, the physical body response was as though it had discovered a coiled snake not two feet away.

(This one! It's a NEW half finished(?) WIP. I actually started this one before the drabbles but wanted to finish before posting it. Then it got out of hand, then work got out of hand, then I started a couple more projects and well. I keep putting words on it though and eventually there will be a Kleptoshipper that turns into Puzzle and Tender for your reading enjoyment. Also, fair warning - don't use song lyrics as a working title. Every time I look at the document I get the song stuck in my head.)

Now we have polished up reposts of old stories for their move to AO3, where I'll basically keep my master archive. Not full re-writes but I fixed a bunch of typos and awkward sentences and they're much stronger for it. Most of these are from a pairings contest way back when so LOTS of different pairings and lots of AUs!

4. Human:

It was like a bad noir, the thought crossed both of their minds.

(Scifi AU, Rivalshipping. That one's not bad for a first line. Actually no link at the time of writing cause the re-edit is going up in like, a half hour? an hour? a half day? It's my next project after finishing this, finishing up the edit and posting it on AO3. Now with link!)

5. Blood:

Fingers through midnight black hair, whispers in his ear, touches that sizzled along the skin, awakening nerves and senses.

(Dungeonshipping, Pegasus x Otogi, vampires AU. Oh that’s a nice first line! <3)

6. Crazy for You:

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open.

(Manipulashipping, Anzu x Marik, Psychward AU. Still one of my favorites from that era. Big bold warning though, THIS ONE CONTAINS NON-CON)

7. Finality:

“What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” Bakura’s translucent arms swept across the graveyard. “Is this not an appropriate place for it?”

(First two or so bits of dialogue as the first first is a generic question. You can tell this is one of the really old ones just by that but it's a sweet, sad little Tendershipper that still has a special place in my heart.)

8. Pieces of You:

Glitter caught the light, leaving shimmering trails in the air as it got everywhere.

(Glittershipping, Anzu x Kisara. Another one that's special to me. Kisara is my girl and my first writing muse. <3)

9. Cambodia:

“It was summer of fifty three...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it can't have been fifty three. You might be that ancient but I'm not. It must have been sixty three.”

(Jiishipping. Yes. Sugoroku x Arthur. HEY, IT CAME UP IN THE RANDOM DRAW FOR THE SHIPPING CONTEST OK. And my writer's brain hasn't backed down from a challenge yet... Another one that takes 4 lines to pop off but it's a good start. Actually, here's the rest of the bit just because I cannot get enough of these two bickering:)

“What do you mean it must have been sixty three? You don't even know what story I'm trying to tell.”

“Am I in it?”

“What?”

“So you're deaf now as well as daft? AM I IN IT?”

“Of course you're in it, y'old coot. Don't know why I'd tell a story without you in it when both grandkids are sitting here.”

10. Coffee and Cigarettes:

"Cigarettes and coffee? That's not a very healthy lunch."

Mana crossed her legs and took a refined sip of her own coffee even as her company was not.

(Mischiefshipping, Mana x Thief King Bakura. Oh this one I'm actually sad that it doesn't immediately sparkle in the first line cause it's one of my absolute favorites of everything I've written. And I think it's the only time I've ever written Mana but I LOVED IT AND HER. Oh no! I lied, I've written her at least one other time though I don't think that one quite captures her sheer chaos energy like this one does.)

11. A Million Missed Chances:

Somewhere along the line, someone made a choice.

(This one. THIS ONE. I think this is by far the most epic idea I've tackled. I still don't know if the sheer scale of the thing came across in the actual fic but in my head it was massive and I remember pounding away at my teeny tiny laptop late at night because the whole thing hit me maybe a day or so before the story was due for the pairings contest. We only had a week to write each fic and my really good ideas never came to me before the very last minute. T.T Conquestshipping, Mai x Valon.)

12. A Fear of Falling:

She drove.

Like she always did when something bothered her.

(Oh the first chapter on this is also one of the really ancient ones. Like one of the very first things I wrote. That first chapter really shows its age and is a little shaky but the others are better and the last one is what fits into the chorological order here. Polarshipping, Jou x Mai. One of my very first ships. Probably THE first actually <3)

13. What Our Creators Make Us:

"Well, well." The match flared, scattering dark shadows until it was blown out and the only light that remained was the red glow from the cigarette end. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

(Psychoshipping, Marik x Spirit of the Ring Bakura. With a bit of Bronze, Angst and Tender in the follow up. Old but I'm ridiculously proud of it, hence it's place in the master archive. Ahaha you can tell how old it is though by how clever I think I am. I thought it was funny to make my audience figure out who was talking and not reveal the characters for a good fourth to third of the fic. Ahhhhhhh. Sorry about past me.)

14. A Revolution of the Spirit:

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't.

That they were close was understandable (you don't get much closer than sharing headspace) but that even now, after deals were made with gods, endless arguments, compromises and the ultimate guilt trip that he had only been a teenager when he willingly sacrificed himself for all of humanity, things she had only half seen and only partly understood even though they had all been there to witness, that even now Atem continued to invade Yugi's personal space as though he belonged there got on her nerves.

(Woah Nelly! That third sentence should probably be three, four and five. Even if I just split it in half we'd continue the pattern of things popping off in the fourth line. I think that's one pattern that's emerging! A really good bit takes me about four lines to set up and deliver! Oh, the challenge was Revolutionshipping, Anzu x Atem, but the fic is actually Spiritshipping, Anzu x Yugi x Atem.)

So confession time, I haven't been out of fandom completely, I just hadn't written my own standalone stories in a very long time. There are a few (ok ok more than a few) long-running rps that @miss-moberg and I have been adding to on and off over the years. I can't resist throwing in a couple of these.

15. Cafe!

The door shut behind them with the soft click of the latch and the exhale of a breath long held.

(This opening line was from December of 2020 when we rebooted a very old Prideshipper and that is a damn good opening line if I do say so myself. I can definitely see the difference now between the newer works and the older ones. I've gotten better, she's matched me pace for pace and eventually something will be finished, I'll work up the courage to ask permission to post it and the whole internet will get to see how brilliant the two of us are together.)

16. Treasure Hunt!

"Ryou, I think you're going to regret letting me tag along on your adventuring this time." Yugi didn't bother turning away from the airplane's tiny window to see if his seatmate was paying attention. He was more thinking out loud with his friend playing the role of a convenient sounding board. "Because I think this trip is the only thing I'm going to talk about ever again."

(One more from RP because it's got that fun, four line punch that we've discovered is a pattern for me! Opening entry is from 2017.)

Also, in truth, my count is a little off when I say I'd been out of fandom 10+ years. I've been away from YGO for that long but I did spend a brief stint in Homestuck where I read a ton of fanfic, flirted with a couple group RPs and even wrote a tiny bit. 9 years without writing a new fic isn't as impressive as saying ‘over a decade’ but it is a little more accurate.

17. What You Will:

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of its rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.

(The beginning of a Homestuck/Twelfth Night crossover that I'm still determined to work more on someday. It's only got a single chapter but it's magic though now I'm concerned about not being able to recapture that. Not a bad first line though. The style is so different it took me reading it a couple times before going, oh yeeeeeah, that's pretty good!)

18. Relentless:

You pull him to the deck and then across it by the remains of his shirt. Let him say one last goodbye. His ship pillaged, his crew murdered, his hands bound behind his back and at your mercy.

Funny word, that. Mercy.

(The first line is pretty decent but there's that four line combo again! Five but I could basically fix that with a comma. Featuring the troll ancestors Mindfang and Dualscar because every time Hussey introduced new characters they were instantly my favorite.)

19. Black:

There is dark and there is dark and there is dark and then there is black. She is black. Licorice and coal. She is hate and resentment and everything that tastes bitter, the kind of black that coats the tongue like oil, drips down the back of the throat and keeps going.

(Oh wow. Am I allowed to say that about my own work? A Terezi/Vriska drabble that I'm putting as much here as I think I can get away with because it's so good that it fucks me up a little going back and reading it.)

And here it gets tricky because I think the more recent of the old, old fics are in the Drabbles and Shorts collection on ff.net and I can't see a post date. So I'll just pick a good one to end on.

20. Two Princes:

It was inevitable as the rising of Ra's chariot after a long night, as the flooding of the river banks every spring, and Atem always knew that Yugi's kiss would be as warm and gentle as the evening breeze in the summer that brought relief from the scorching day. It was.

(How about the final honor going to more Puzzle/Blind? This probably has the strongest first line of its era. Actually I'm not sure when it was written. It was just hanging out in my writing folder and, thinking about it, I probably wrote it when I was fading from fandom the first time around but still trying to hang in there. No wait! That��s too sad, we can’t end on that! Lets add one more to the list for the sake of personal narrative!)

21. Linger:

The world doesn't need him anymore. It doesn't need his sword and it doesn't need his pen.

(A tiny Princess Tutu afterward that I wrote for myself. Nice one-two punch in the opener. Also it rounds out the personal story that accidentally developed here with a line later in the fic, "Words, however, never stray far from a good writer..." Like, wait, stop. Past me, how did you know T.T)

Did that take a sudden emotional turn for anyone else or was that just me. Can I offset that a little with an honorable mention? Let’s do that while I collect myself. Here’s one more.

Honorable mention: Ryou and the Thief

There was a storm gathering and too much magic in the air. Much more than occurred naturally and magic at this level was never a good thing.

(I can’t have a list of things I’ve written without having Ryou and the Thief on it. If you click on this one though, BEWARE, it’s old, it’s silly and it has a ton of explicit gay sex that… would be written very differently if we were handling it today I’m sure! This is the first RP @miss-moberg and I ever did together and our excuse to Gemship and Puzzleship turned into us running the boys through a whole adventure based on the Osiris myth. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed and I’d still consider it kind of my legacy.)

And that’s the last 21(+1!) stories that I’ve written!

The clear winner of best first line for me is 15. Cafe! It’s short, elegant and manages to contain a whole mood even without the context of what’s going on and who’s involved. (Spoilers: It’s Seto and Mokuba making an AU escape from Gozoboro.) Close second is Tango, the most recent story. It’s neat to see just how much better I’ve gotten and also really cool to see that even if the first line itself doesn’t contain a punch, it’s usually because there’s a nice, strong idea being set up and delivered in the first four lines (or so). What a pleasant surprise!

AND WOW, this whole tag thing didn't need to be so long! Or personal! Seriously, if you get this tag from me the challenge is only to list the first lines to 20 stories and maybe try to draw one or two conclusions from them. You all thought I was joking when I said I loved talking about my own writing! But actually, I guess it’s fine like this as I ended up using it as a way to re-introduce myself. Like, "Hey, I used to live here a long time ago and oh my god I love what you've done with the place!" Rather than being someone who's just popped up out of nowhere a few weeks ago to creepily bother all your best of the best creators so....

^///^ Hello!

Thanks for letting me ramble!

Tags! I think I've seen most of the authors I follow do this already but on the off chance you haven't been tagged yet: @elexica (checked your blog to see if you'd already done the tag and saw that you're another person returning to writing fanfiction after 10+ years. Same! Hello!!), @danieco, @draconicmaw, @nedjemetsenen (has someone tagged you already?) and two shots in the dark, @miss-moberg and @edmondia (I'm so sorry you two. T.T Please feel free to block me forever.) And please, anyone else who wants to babble about their own writing! Do this, it was so much fun. <3

#ygo #yu-gi-oh #yugioh #yugioh fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jenific #so many ships #so many characters like woah #not half bad for a retrospective if i do say so myself #thank you for coming to my ted talk #tag game #first lines tag

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shima-draws · 4 years

Text

So a couple people have asked me how Izuku and Todoroki met in my World Tree AU!! And that is a wonderful question

I haven’t worked out all the specific details yet (and I might change things later) but what I had in mind was this:

At this point, Izuku’s already training under Toshi, and has been for a few months. Toshi decides to bring Izuku to one of the big political meetings of all the fairy races! Here the head honchos of each race meet up and discuss territory disputes, general welfare, all that non fun stuff. BUT they also have some actual fun activities on the side—friendly competing between the races to see who is the best! All of the important leaders (heads of the races, town leaders, those who hold high positions in wealth, etc.) see this as a good opportunity to meet and chat with other fairies in a friendly setting, because most of the time they’re competing with each other despite that. These leaders tend to bring their children/heirs/chosen guests along with them to participate in the games—so coincidentally most of Class 1-A is there ;)

Izuku obviously meets Uraraka and Iida first and INSTANTLY clicks with them. Despite being different races they really don’t care for all of the petty rivalry and instead try to get to know each other based on personality and connections! Soon enough as they bounce around and chat with other younger fairies they eventually form a nice group made up of most of the 1-A kids. Together they spend a lot of time chatting and comparing their magical abilities and it’s a lot of fun!

At one point Izuku does notice Todoroki—it’s pretty obvious because 1. He has very distinct features and Izuku has seen photos of him before, 2. He’s standing by himself and apparently refuses to talk to anybody, and 3. He’s Enji Todoroki’s son, and Enji, being the leader of his own fairy race, is known worldwide, so it’s obvious that Todoroki would be well known too. Izuku’s kinda starstruck because Todoroki is very pretty and also because he’s famous so like. Celebrity crush, kinda? Lol. Of course they have the whole intense eye contact moment for the first time and Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin when Todoroki looks at him Like That. Izuku, too embarrassed and shy and nervous to actually approach him, skitters off like the stupid gay moron he is

Rest is under the cut because it got a little long lol

A little while after that, Izuku splits off from the group for a bit to go to the fountain and get a drink. He starts mumbling to himself about all of the magic he’s learned, and all the people he’s met—basically he’s standing there having a fanboy moment in the garden when Todoroki approaches him out of nowhere. Izuku understandably freaks out and accidentally soaks Todoroki with water from the fountain, making this an epic meet cute moment. Izuku apologizes profusely and Todoroki brushes him off, “I was the one who approached you without warning, so it’s fine”.

Todoroki starts questioning him because he noticed he came in with All Might—and of course I could not leave out the classic love child comment so he brings that up LMAO

Izuku starts laughing, and Todoroki thinks he’s being made fun of, but Izuku quickly corrects him and he’s like “There’s no way somebody like me could be blood related to All Might, that’s why I found it funny, I’m sorry!” And Todoroki’s confused like “If he chose you to come here with him, doesn’t that make you worthy enough?” Izuku promptly turns into a freckled tomato and it’s adorable. (Todoroki notices this and idly thinks he’s cute when he blushes.)

They start to chat and Izuku slowly gets over his awkwardness/nervousness. Todoroki asks him what type of magic he has and he explains, which leads to the question being turned around on Todo. Naturally he gets very sour at this and brings up Enji, and since I definitely can’t not bring canon into this situation he bitches about his magic (bc apparently he feels like he can trust Izuku enough to tell him after only just meeting him. It’s the cute charm). He explains that since he’s not only a prince, but also a dual-elemental (which are really really REALLY rare) people only care about his political position and his power and not about him specifically. They only seek to take advantage of him or suck up to him and he hates all of it;; And what makes it worse is that he didn’t even ask to have these abilities, nor to be cursed with his father’s magic.

Izuku very bluntly points out that wouldn’t it be your magic, your power? Children inherit magic from their parents yeah but it’s not always the same element—sometimes it can get mixed and become something different entirely, or they just get one element from one parent. Either way the magic is theirs, unique to them, something that they cultivate and develop and make their own, and it’s not something the parents can control anymore. Izuku says that Todoroki is the only one in control of his own destiny, and his own magic—that’s not something Enji gets to have a say in. And as for Todoroki’s prince position—shouldn’t that be something he should take advantage of? He can help and save a LOT of people just by being a prince—he can become a true hero that way, using his position for good, and ensuring the kingdom is healthy and safe and running well. Izuku says it’s his actions that will be judged—if Todoroki were a bad person Izuku wouldn’t support him no matter if he were the prince or not. “But the fact that you’re so concerned about it...I can definitely tell. You have a kind heart, Todoroki-kun! You can use that kindness to become a wonderful and generous king one day!”

Of course this is Todoroki’s Big Gay Awakening because this adorable little munchkin just flipped his entire worldview upside in a few WORDS. (Not a punch to the face like in canon LMFAO) He has a momentary existential crisis trying to figure out what this means for him and how important it is—and that’s when Izuku gets called back inside. Izuku hurries off and says he’s really glad he got to meet Todoroki and talk with him. It’s only after Izuku leaves that Todoroki realizes he never got his name and curses himself for being so stupid. He vows then that he’s going to work and change himself, figure out what to do, and meet Izuku again, and get his name!! (See, you can already tell he’s falling in love with him huh 😤)

Aaaaand that’s how they meet for the first time!! The Gay is strong

#BNHA #Tododeku #World Tree AU #Shima’s AUs #Todoroki Shouto #Todoizu #Midoriya Izuku #MHA #Boku no Hero Academia #My Hero Academia #Deku #Todoroki #Long post

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comic-brew · 4 years

Text

Pieces

@whumptober2020 days n.4 Running out of time: Buried Alive and n.5 Falling (alt prompt)

Summary: The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

Notes: shitty au where basically TV Titans Jason has flashbacks of his comic-life, even though he technically haven’t lived any of them yet. How much this story progresses depends on if I’ll write a second ch. Beware of 2 different writing styles cause I started this way too long ago.

Reading time: 35 mins (4.4k)

Warnings: whump, panic attacks, being buried alive, self deprecating thoughts, angst, oxygen deprivation, PTSD (?), vertigo, falling, perhaps sth else I missed??

or read here on ao3!

ps. reblogs and feedback bring the author great joy uwu

***

“Hey, Jason” Gar greets after knocking and opening the door to Jason’s room just enough to peer his head through.

“How’re you doing?”

The boy waits but Jason doesn’t reply. He’s simply staring out his window, arms falling limply at his side, barely even registering the new presence in the room. Garfield bites his lip and invites himself inside and by Jason’s side. He glances at the boy’s rapidly moving, but hollow eyes, then at the view of the sky they’re aiming at.

“Are you still with us, buddy?” he asks.

He hesitantly runs a hand up and down in front of Jason’s distant gaze and that seems to do the trick.

Jason blinks, then shakes his head to rid himself of whatever thought he was so unnervingly engrosed into. Turning to face the green haired boy, he assumes the most carefree expression he can muster, forcing a halflit smile in a futile attempt to compose himself.

“Yeah, was just.. thinking” he assures, his eyes holding no emotion.

“ ‘Course… You sure you’re okay?” Gar presses, making little effort to conceal the incredulous frown his eyebrows are drawn into.

Jason shifts in his place while his hands clench and unclench, in an attempt to calm his discomfort and aggravation at Gar’s question, because he knows his teammate’s just asking out of honest concern. It’s not his fault Jason hasn’t slept in days and isn’t used to people checking up on him.

“I’m fine, dude, seriously.” Jason insists and Garfield knows better than to further inquire him “Now, did you want something?”

Fuck. Jason almost winces at how aggressive his words have come out. Gar blinks, opening his mouth to say something. Before his thoughts can materialize on the tip on his tongue, he seems to rethink what he wanted to say. That delay of course doesn’t go unnoticed by Jason.

God..Why does he always mess everything up?

As Gar’s about to speak again, the new Robin raises a hand to the green haired boy’s chest, stopping any word before it can reach his ears. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m just tired and I’m taking it out on you.” he huffs a bitter laugh “You don’t deserve me being an ass to you too.”

The boy’s brown eyes light up with understanding and relief and his tense shoulders physically relax at the confession. “Hey, it’s cool man. I get it.” he acknowledges, smiling politely and squeezing Jason’s shoulder.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t recoil from the touch, instead reciprocating Gar’s reassuring smile with an exhausted, but genuine and lighthearted smirk.

They both remain in that position for several split seconds, until Garfield finally retracts his hand to clasp his palms together as it dawns on him that he still hasn’t told his teammate the news he came to deliver.

“Actually I did come to tell you something” he announces, grinning widely and slightly fidgeting with his fingers “Rachel and I were thinking of watching a movie, you’re welcome to join us. You know, if you feel up to it.”

Jason takes a spare second to ponder and process Gar’s proposition. He steals a glance at the translucent glass of the window, separating his world from the towering skyscrapers and showering his neatly made bed in the soft gleam of the afternoon.

It would surely be better than staying there alone, falling into the inky depths of his eternal abyss.

Turning to face the boy whose eyes scour him expectantly for any indication of his intentions, he relents with a rather forced shrug.

“Uh, sure, I guess.” Jason says.

Gar’s face lights up and pulls into a joyous grin. “Cool… cool.”

He awkwardly shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants and starts heading towards the door, stopping midway to listen to Jason calling out after him.

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

The green haired boy simply nods and subtly waves his hand goodbye, before he disappears into the hallway.

***

When Jason steps foot into one of the spacious living areas Titans Tower houses, there are three heads turning at the soft sound of his approaching footsteps where he expected to be greeted by two. The platinum curls flowing gracefully with the motion can only belong to one person. Well, at least one person they know.

“Rose” he sighs. “Didn’t expect you to come”

“Didn’t expect to come either” she counters, the corners of her lips twitching upwards in amusement, “But I guess this could be fun after all”

She is comfortably perched on a lovely armchair covered by smooth, pearl fabric, facing the flank of a matching couch. One knee bent and placed securely under her body, the side of her head is doused in the last dull afternoon light seeping into the room through the daffodil curtains keeping the golden sunset rays at bay. Rachel is regarding Jason with a mellow smile, sitting cross legged on the far end of the couch neighbouring Rose’s armchair and Garfield has already started fumbling with a rather ancient DVD player.

It’s a wonder how this thing still exists in a building where interactive holograms are a norm. But then again it wouldn’t be the oddest thing about this place.

“Well,” Gar begins, slightly groaning when the DVD port spitefully refuses to close, “We’re both glad you did join us. Now, take a seat ladies and gentlemen!” he announces with fervor when he finally manages to slam the port close, and gestures towards the unoccupied cushions next to the purple haired girl.

Jason takes the invitation gladly and flops down on the other end of the couch, closer to the hall he was in just a few seconds ago.

“What are we watching?” Jason asks.

Rachel turns her focus to him then, leaning her back on the couch and clutching a decorative pillow to her abdomen. “Gar found this, and I quote, 'apocalyptic masterpiece of censorship’ and insisted we had to watch it.” she grins, rolling her eyes at reciting her friend’s words.

Jason and Rose both snort at that as Garfield reaches the couch in a few quick strides. “Seriously guys, I have only ever heard about this movie from some pretty questionable sources.” he says giddily before sobering up again, clearly fussing over his discovery.

“We’re literally staring an urban legend in the face, guys!”

“Yeah, not like you hang out with the Titans or whatever” Jason quips. Seriously, how can a movie be more exciting than fighting crime alongside heroes? Than being a hero?

“Good point, bro. Good point”

Jason shoulders stiffen at the nickname, but only for a briefly awkward moment which Gar is more than eager to fill with more (unnecessary) information.

“Well, according to those guys the movie was banned shortly after its release and all copies were revoked and ultimately destroyed.”

“Clearly not all copies” Rachel muses before asking why the movie was banned in the first place. Gar mumbles something about it addressing some extremely controversial topics and offending some powerful douchbag before making his way to the middle cushion.

Rachel scoots over without even untangling her legs to make more room for him to sit.

Rose simply raises an eyebrow.

“Where the hell did you even hear about this stuff in the first place?”

Gar suddenly goes stills in his place on the couch. He runs a hand through his messy strands of hair before reluctantly providing an answer. “Uh… Tumblr?” he says while grinning awkwardly.

Rachel nods her head back slack-jawed, brows shooting up in a terrible attempt at showing understanding. Gar frowns as he then glances at Jason who’s staring at him with wide disbelieving eyes, the sound of Rose dramatically smacking her own face enhancing the atmosphere.

“It’s not that surprising guys, come on!” Gar protests, an exasperated sigh emanating from his lips.

At that, the three of them exchange deadpan looks before bursting out laughing. The laughter soon subsides into small giggles and high pitched breaths as the green haired boy smiles with content and leans above the mahogany coffee table to grab the tv remote.

“Well, friends, brace yourselves, for the most epic zombie movie to barely exist” he says, smirking as he plops back down on the leathern cushions.

On the screen, their reflections have given their place to the lean figure of a boy of asian descent in his 16s walking alongside a girl with dark complexion and luscious, auburn hair. A gentle, velvety voice surrounds them from the speakers and integrates them in the world the film is set in.

Time flows pleasantly as the story progresses with no interruption aside from a few enthusiastic inputs from a beaming Garfield.

The rest of the Titans are all gathered together in some other part of the Tower, once again excluding them from whatever plans they might be conjuring.

Because that went so well last time, Jason unwittingly ponders, quick to dismiss the thoughts lest those dreadfully fresh memories resurface.

But perhaps it’s already too late to whisk them away.

Jason gets up out of the blue, eliciting an inquisitive glare from the rest of the kids.

“I’ll just.. go grab some popcorn” he states vacantly, pointing at the hallway with his thumb without breaking eye contact. Truth is he needs a minute to recover from the intrusion of sensations he’d rather forget.

Plus, popcorn sounds nice.

“We can pause the film if you want” Rachel’s soft voice prompts, wording what has likely been dancing around the others’ minds as well.

“Nah, it’s cool. It won’t take long. I’m not going all the way to the Antarctica and back or whatever” he replies, fighting the nagging urge to roll his eyes and let the poison drip onto his voice. The kids nod and in a moment’s notice he’s gone.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Keeping up his pace feels abysmally hard. His head is reeling and his senses are swimming all around the place, reality feels like a fuzzy blanket draped over a newborn’s skin. Jason takes a few more carefully calculated steps before he stumbles on thin air. Careening into the wall he leans against the slick concrete on his flank until the world stops shifting enough for him to continue.

Somehow Jason makes it to the kitchen. He fumbles with the drawers, opening and closing them jerkily.

In just a few seconds the falling has progressed to the point where he can barely stand. He doesn’t think it’s ever been this bad the previous times.

Everything is spinning around. And when it all shifts upside down he’s falling from the marble to the ceiling, and when his skin and the asbestos are inches from colliding, the world tilts again like an hourglass that’s ran out of sand.

Just like that his descend is reset. Over and over.

He finds the popcorn bag in the last one and grabs it hastily. Only after the third attempt, the previous two ending shamefully with his clasp clutching piteously at empty air.

Dropping it of on the countertop it’s more muscle memory than will that redirects him to the sink. His fingers grip the knob, turning the water lukewarm, but as he lets it puddle on his palms he can’t feel it any clearer than a breath of a ghost on the back of his neck.

Jason splashes the water on his face but it ends up mostly on his clothes and on the ground. Gravity works funny when you have no sense of it.

His hands latch onto the edge of the sink and cling for dear life. The ledge, hold on to the ledge. His eyes open wide, they soak up the terror of the height. The terror of death.

The eerie reassurance of death.

The smog dissipates faster this time. But with it the distressing thought that it’s getting worse, that he’s getting worse, finds the chance settle in his gut.

Jason can’t do this anymore.

But he’s already been gone for a conspicuously large amount of time, and the thought of having to explain his reoccurring day-mares can’t even be entertained by his mind. So that makes a problem for another day.

The popcorn is ready in only a few minutes. Jason holds on to the sink for a couple more moments, taking deep breaths in and out, until his heart has stopped beating frenzied.

If they ask, he can always say he had trouble with the 'corn.

He can always say.

“Okay” he breathes out, closing his eyes as he informs nobody in particular.

“Okay I’m ready”

With that Jason grabs the bowl filled to the brim with the snack and disappears out the door. The journey from the kitchen to the smaller living area is nothing compared to the odyssey he went through following his departure from the lounge.

Once he sets foot back inside all heads turn towards him.

“What did I miss?” he asks, ever so cheerfully as he strides closer to the small den of couches.

One of them starts speaking, no doubt filling him in on the events that happened while he wasn’t watching. Whoever it is, Jason can’t concentrate on their voice enough to tell it apart.

On the screen, the boy is desperately gasping for air as he’s emerging from a moonlit grave.

The world spins out of focus, and before any of them know it the bowl has slipped through Jason’s limb fingers.

It has slipped, and it is falling.

***

The splintered wood pricks and stabs the sensitive skin beneath his shattered fingernails and the blood is threatening to leave his hands and drip onto his glacial cold face. His fingers hurt, they weren’t made as a shovel, they weren’t made to be penetrating wood, but they are doing exactly that, and he can’t acknowledge the piercing, burning throbs that travel through his veins to set the rest of his body aflame, because his lungs are burning, they’re flaring up more and more with every broken attempt at filling them up with air-

He has to dig, he has to keep going-

The last layer of polished wood finally relents, small pieces of it falling onto his raggedly, but once expensive, dandy suit. Blood is mixed with sweat on his palms, accelerating the speed with which it runs along his hands, tickling him while he scrambles for a breath of fresh air that never comes.

“N..o…” he croaks out and speaking is hard, his throat feels as the ash coated land left behind the passage of lava, and now he needs to cough, and he needs to breathe but there’s no air coming in, and frankly, he can’t decide whether it’s from the panic that has overcome him or because there simply isn’t enough oxygen in the cramped space he’s trapped in.

It’s not some prank

As if on cue the ground above him slightly shakes as the mud repositions and soil seeps through the open slit of the-

Of the coffin.

I’m buried alive…. I… I…, he realizes, ever so frantically.

And so his thoughts begin to plague him, the next one banging and clawing at the door of his mind before the previous has had the time to be stated, he’s hyperventilating and fairly so, he’s buried underneath 6 feet of soil-

Stop it Jason, get ahold of yourself. You made it this far because you never gave up, you won’t give up now either, a part of himself with a semblance of sanity left scolds him and orders his bloody hands to move, they grip the edge of the broken pine casket and pull with all their might.

The wooden seal cracks and Jason makes a supernatural effort to set it aside as it holds the weight of 6 feet of soil, his atrophied muscles protest by threatening to give out but it’s sheer determination that gets him to move on, he has to make it, he can’t die in there, he can’t leave, can’t leave his family.

Mud now openly drowns him from the huge whole in the lid of the casket, devouring every corner, sticking to every inch of skin and fabric.

He’s still gasping for air, his lungs and throat feel ready to burst and he’s dizzy, everything is spinning, but on the other hand 'everything’ is nothing more but a muddy grave and he’s still inside.

Almost frantically his injured fingers reach for the source of the soil. With jerky movements and all the strength he can muster he forces his hands through the earth. The stiff mud swallows him whole, lets the worms and maggots get tangled in his long strands of hair. Jason keeps his eyes and mouth stubbornly shut as he desperately struggles to propel his flimsy frame through the endless layers of ground.

He can faintly feel the darkness creeping in the corner of his mind, promising relief, promising safety. Those whispers sound tempting to his weak, grazed arms, to his blazing lungs-

The whispers don’t know that it’s not written in his DNA to yield.

His arms hastily swim through the wet mass that’s holding him beneath the surface, he can feel the dirt in his hair, in his ears, in his shirt, his pants, his everything. Maggots and caterpillars are crawling on his convulsed features. His heart is throbbing unnaturally loud, he can hear the thumping in his ears as his marred hands push and dig with painstaking effort.

Better hurry little robin! It ain’t fun if you die now, amiright boy blunder? HahaHA!

He’s digging, he’s trying, dyeing the earth crimson with his blood, please-

The wet soil doesn’t end, it engulfs him in its cold embrace and doesn’t let him go, no matter how wildly he struggles against the earthly tendrils wrapped securely around his limbs and torso.

He’s desperately gasping for a breath, just one breath to keep going, he’s coughing up phlegm and bile while his chest writhes and burns. He can’t help his mouth gaping in a last-gasp search for oxygen but the only thing entering his mouth and traveling towards his pricking trachea is dirt and rocks and… and…

…a feather?

A feather. He can feel it with his tongue, he can taste its sourness and almost hear a soft crunch under his teeth.

A feather. Robin.

He’s Robin, and Robin doesn’t die alone in an empty grave.

Robin fights. Robin protects. Robin wins.

With renewed resoluteness he forges ahead, his hand reaches where he supposes skyward is one more time.

This time, it’s met with the comfort of soft raindrops and the gentle wind blowing against his numb fingertips.

***

“-on? Jason!” Rachel calls at the sound of the metal bowl clattering to the ground, slipping right through the boy’s fingers and letting the freshly baked popcorn scatter all over the marble floor.

The girl exchanges a worried glance with Gar, before Rose gets up and marches furiously towards an exasperatingly unresponsive Robin, the popcorn crunching beneath her feet. She comes to a halt a few inches away from Jason’s hollow eyes and slaps him hard across the cheek.

The other two begin to protest loudly but Rose barely pays them any mind. She watches with pursed lips as Jason’s cloudy eyes regain focus and his hand shoots up to the skin gradually assuming the oh-so-wonderful shade of radish.

“Ow.. what the fuck?” Jason frowns at her while cautiously rubbing his cheek with his right hand. There’s no blood on his fingers, no mud on his skin. He can breathe.

Rose ignores his baffled query and simply turns to the two teens watching the whole scene play out from the safety of the cushions. She beams triumphantly as she announces smugly, “See? It worked.”

Jason, visibly annoyed by his incompetence to understand what the hell is happening traps her wrist in a vice like grip and tugs, forcing her to face him. She squints viciously at the gesture although she effortlessly pulls her hand free.

“Why the fuck did you slap me?”

The girl opens her mouth to respond, putting together a not so composed reply in her head -to put it mildly-, so it’s probably for the best when Rachel interrupts her train of thought.

“What happened, Jason? You completely zoned out”.

“Yeah, dude. What the hell was that all about?” Gar chimes in, nodding at the pile of popcorn by Robin’s feet and at the discarded bowl that has slid all the way to the edge of the couch he and Rachel are perched on.

“Wha..” Jason regards the strewn snacks with a quizzical look, as if he’s waiting for them to answer why they’re spread out all over the floor. Oddly enough, they don’t.

He fixes his still hazy gaze on his calloused hands next, his confusion manifesting in the form of furrowed brow.

He- he was-

no. He was never there. Always here.

His inviolate fingers are proof enough of that. But then.. is he losing his mind? Just like old Bertha, the old lady running around the theater, screaming that she had been kidnapped and experimented on by flying giraffes…. Not that it’s impossible with everything he’s witnessed the past year.

No, that can’t be it. He’s still shaken up from the fall right? It’s logical that he’s hallucinating about graves, he was seconds from ending up in one just a few days ago. It will go away right?

It will, it has to.

They can’t know, the street kid inside of him insists, they’ll throw you away like a broken toy. Broken..

“Jason, talk to us. What’s wrong?” Rachel is still staring at him, they all are. Her voice is laced with pity, they’re sorry for him. They’re pitying him, the bird that broke its wing and they know that now can’t survive on its own.

“What’s wrong with me?!” His head snaps to where her voice is coming from and the girl flinches at the bite behind his words.

“I didn’t mean- I meant you should perhaps tell Dick about it, he might be able to help” she stutters, her face bearing a deer in the headlights expression. Her gaze briefly meets with Garfield’s, perhaps to seek some backup. Somehow that angers Jason even more.

“Tell Dick? Really?” he snorts, “How about we tell Dick about that time you almost fucking choked me, maybe he could help!” he gasps mockingly. He is shouting now and the girl seems taken aback by the progression of his anger, gawking at him with a hint of sorrow tainting the indigo of her irises.

Gar stands up from his seat and approaches him, getting in the way of him and a Rachel fumbling for the right response to Jason’s accusation. The green haired boy extends his hand almost cautiously, it’s a simple gesture meaning nothing else than stop. It’s common sense, he knows he is going too far again but Jason’s common sense has jumped out the window. To him, they’re treating him like a wounded animal.

Perhaps he’s just projecting how cornered he feels.

“Dude, that’s enough”

“I’m sorry to break this to you, ” he points a finger accusingly at Rachel, “but Dick can’t fix everything like some kind of god you’ve made him out to be”

“Buddy-”

“He can’t fix you and your fucking razor blade tornado or whatever…” he keeps holding Rachel’s bleak glare gesturing wildly with his fingers and ignoring Garfield’s feeble attempts at making him stop.

“…and he can’t fix this” Jason concludes by pointing miserably at his head, then the rest of his body, until his hand drops limp at his side in resignation. His newfound rage has dissipated into downright bitterness.

At the far back the movie is still playing, forgotten. In the faint comforting light of the screen the girl with the auburn hair is kneeling in front of a stone cold body, burrowing her face in chestnut locks that would never grow any longer, as her shoulders heave sharply with every wreaked sob.

Grieving. Jason can still feel the three pairs of eyes -one consisting of one blue and an eyepatch- burning holes into the glimmers of tears stubbornly refusing to be spilt from his, even as he averts his stare.

There’s a deep pause after the abrupt revelation and the four kids are encompassed in a veil of tense silence no one seems willing to break.

Rose -who seemed rather amused when the yelling had started- is now solemnly inspecting the intricate patterns on the sheer curtains tucked to the side of the plate-glass window. Garfield is standing with his arms crossed protectively around his torso. Rachel has ceased to stare wide eyed like a freshly caught fish, however she’s keeping her arms close to her body and shifting awkwardly in her place. Her expression remains grim and her eyes dim, bearing an eerily sorrowful glint.

She puts her head down and eventually flies out of the room without another word. Consumed either by irritation or even guilt, if Jason has to guess. Gar spares no more than a defeated glance at her departure, otherwise maintaining his position by the abruptly deserted couch. He simply reaches for the tv remote, cutting off image and sound amidst a heated argument between the two leads. Damn this movie.

Deathstroke’s daughter looks between the two boys expectantly for half a second. None of them pays her any mind, too busy staring at the suddenly immensely intriguing floor.

“Nevermind, I’m out of here” she mutters through gritted teeth before getting down from atop the loveseat she had claimed and heading towards her own room.

Jason stares blankly at the scattered popcorn, but it provides no answer to the million questions dancing around in his mind.

Frankly, he didn’t expect it to.

Gosh. He’s so messed up.

Gar offers to help him clean up. He refuses. Perhaps Jason pushes him away just like everyone else. He’s got his own mess to clean up, first literally.

The metaphorical one might have just stained too deeply to remedy.

The night finds him placing the broom back in it’s place in the supply closet and sitting alone in pitch darkness.

Thinking of a grave that doesn’t belong to him, it never did, but it has his name on it. Thinking of the memories he shouldn’t have, piecing together how his heart only knows more fragments have been prodding at him, more broken pieces he doesn’t know where they fit.

The night finds him sitting alone in pitch darkness. Shivering, shaking with quiet tears.

Knowing he’d be undisturbed, alone, in the grave he’s built for himself.

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ceealaina · 4 years

Text

Title: Hot for Teacher Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - AU: Teacher Ship: Stony, IronBros Rating: Teen Major Tags: Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Humor Summary: Tony is the established physics teacher, Steve is the truly terrible new guidance counsellor. It's not quite love at first sight (but it's a pretty close thing). Word Count: 10,660

Tony drew in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers told you what now?”

Miles grinned at him, like he knew he was raising his blood pressure with every word. “He said that he didn’t go to university. He actually dropped out of school when he was sixteen, and took a solo road trip across all of the US before he got his GED. Said it was the best decision he ever made.”

“Of course he did.” Tony fully dissociated for a moment, staring off into the distance before he shook his head with a full body shudder. “Well, regardless of what your esteemed guidance counselor may have told you, you should very, very, very strongly consider not doing… Any of that, and definitely going to university. And uh… Maybe come to me if you need help with those university applications, cause… Jesus fucking Christ.”

In the back of the room Cassie and Kamala giggled. “Mr. Stark!” Cassie gasped, feigning shock. “You said a bad word!”

Tony just scrubbed a hand over his face. “I hate you all,” he informed them cheerfully.

By lunchtime, Tony was still seething over the fact that the new guidance counselor was advocating for dropping out of school. He had term projects to approve, but couldn’t focus on the proposals, fingers thrumming irritably against his desk. He lasted all of five minutes before he was getting up, marching down the hall to said guidance counselor’s office and knocking sharply on the open door.

“Mr. Rogers? Could I—,”

Tony cut himself off abruptly.

The thing was, he hasn’t actually met Steve Rogers before. And while he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, it wasn’t someone built like a brick house — although, he’d heard that he was friends with Barnes, that was how he’d gotten the job, so maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. But their new guidance counselor was tall, blond, and all kinds of muscley, biceps flexing in a way too tight t-shirt as he bit into a ridiculously large sandwich. He’d jumped at Tony’s sudden arrival, turning big blue eyes up at him, and good god, that was one handsome man.

Shaking his head, Tony forced a tight smile to his face. “Could I have a word?”

He nodded quickly, frantically trying to swallow down his enormous bite, and Tony worked very hard at not imagining what else he could stuff his mouth with. Mr. Rogers scrubbed a hand over the back of his mouth, wiping off some sauce that had spilled, and did an awkward, half stand.

“Yes, yes of course,” he said, reaching his arm out. “Sorry, we haven’t met yet?”

Despite how frustrated he was, Tony couldn’t help grinning; the man was an absolute mess. He moved forward to take his hand, feeling a little swirl of satisfaction at how obviously surprised he was at the strength in Tony’s grip. “Mr. Stark -- Tony.”

“Oh yeah! Physics, right? It’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.” He moved to pull a stack of folders off a chair. “Please, sit down. What can I do for you?”

Tony took the offered chair, leaning back against it comfortably as he eyed Steve for a long moment. “Steve, can I ask how long you’ve been a guidance counselor?”

“Uhh.” Steve shifted a little. “Not long?” He gave a crooked smile that Tony did not find endearing. “About a week and a half?”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured.” Tony sighed. “Steve, are you encouraging kids to drop out of high school?”

“What?” Steve’s eyes went wide and horrified. “No! No, of course not! I…” His gaze shifted to something guilty. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

Steve gave him a hopeful smile. “I may have mentioned something about my own… Choices... as a teenager.”

“Uh huh.” Tony gave him a ‘go on’ gesture.

“It was meant to be inspirational! They get so stressed! They’re trying to decide their entire lives when they’re only kids! So you know… I was trying to show them that not everyone has to follow the same path but also things can turn out completely differently from how you expected and it’s never too late to go back?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Well, at least you seem to genuinely care about the kids, I’ll give you that. But Steve, we’re just trying to get them as prepared for life as we can. You can’t give them ideas like that, and you especially can’t make them think things’ll work out all hunky dory if they do.”

“Hunky dory?” Steve repeated before realizing that wasn’t really the point of what Tony was saying. “Right,” he said, looking properly chastised now. “Right, no, of course. That makes sense.”

“Okay.” Tony was lingering now, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Great.” He got to his feet and headed for the door before he could make things weird. “It was nice meeting you, Steve.”

Over the next couple weeks, Steve kept spotting Tony around the school. He tried not to ogle him like a creeper, but judging by the way Bucky laughed at him every time they ate lunch together, he wasn’t successful. He couldn’t help it. Tony had been like some kind of gorgeous whirlwind, and he couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering about him.

And then, two weeks later, he was back with the same sharp knock and consternated expression. (Steve, thankfully, wasn’t stuffing his face this time.)

“Tony! What, uh… Something I can help you with? I’ve been doing everything by the book, I swear. No more epic road trip stories.”

Tony drew in the deepest breath, like a complete drama queen. “Steve. I understand a book told you to do it, but the Chamber of Secrets this is not. Please stop telling my seniors that abstinence is the only truly effective birth control method. The ones in my AP Physics class are taking it as a personal challenge to design an IUD that works as a cum trebuchet."

Steve blinked at him for a very long minute, trying to work out if he was serious, trying not to--

He burst out laughing. Full on, hand-on-his-chest, eyes streaming, can’t breathe laughter. It was a solid three minutes before he began to calm down and when he finally stopped laughing, Tony was just watching him. He was doing his absolute best to look annoyed, but Steve could see the little hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“That’s uh… Thank you,” Steve managed, tamping down on another burst of laughter. “I really needed that today.”

“Yeah,” Tony told him dryly. “Glad I could help.”

Steve grinned back at him. “I’ll, uh. I’ll take that under consideration.”

When Tony came in the next morning, his AP students were huddled in the back corner, all giggling in that terrifying way that only teenagers could manage. He was so not feeling it -- he was still waiting for that last coffee to kick in -- but he took a rejuvenating breath and asked the question anyway.

“Okay, let’s hear it. Get it out of the way so we can get to sciencing. What’s so funny?”

This set off another round of giggling, half the kids blushing, and none of them quite looking at him. It was, finally, Riri who spoke.

“This morning Mr. Rogers told America Chavez that homosexual sex is also a 100% effective birth control method.”

Tony stared blankly out the window for a long minute. “Of course he did,” he muttered. “Okay, as thrilling as Mr. Rogers’ questionable sex ed is, let’s get started on some actual physics, hmm?”

While the kids got settled for the class, Tony took a moment to collect himself. It was quite possible that Steve was kinda a total troll.

It was quite possible that Tony kinda liked him.

Of course something got back to a parent, who complained about the school promoting a homosexual agenda. Steve didn’t get in trouble, exactly, but it was brought up in the staff meeting.

The enormous jar of rainbow-coloured condoms showed up on Steve’s desk the next day.

Tony had heard it through the student gossip line that, in addition to them being available for anyone to take as needed, he was getting students to guess how many there were in the jar, as some kind of ice breaker. If they were close, they got a mini Kit Kat bar.

He made it half a day before he was stopping in to see for himself.

Tony had prepared some semblance of an excuse for why he was there, some actual reason that the physics teacher might have had for engaging with the guidance counselor (again). But when he tapped on the door, Steve was looking up with a smile like he’d been expecting him. And then his gaze settled on the enormous jar of condoms, and Tony forgot to pretend to be there for anything else.

“What the fuck?” He couldn’t help laughing, a little incredulous. “Okay Steve, they’re teenagers. How much actual sex do you think most of them are really having?”

Steve shrugged unapologetically, but he had an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. “I just like to be prepared. Wouldn’t want to run out.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, eyebrows arching. “Wanna guess all the flavors? None of the students have gotten close yet.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he blinked at the jar. “They’re not even flavored.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s the joke,” he told him, like that was supposed to have been obvious. “Fine, since you’re so smart. Guess how many there are in the jar.”

Tony glanced back over at the jar, wrinkling his nose for about half a second. “Seven hundred and fifty… eight,” he announced.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“What?”

Still leaning back in his chair, Steve stared at Tony, then stared at the jar, then stared back at Tony. Then he shot forward and grabbed the jar, upending the entire thing over his desk. Making eye contact with him, he picked up a handful and started tossing them back in the jar one at a time, counting them out loud as he went. Tony started laughing, the sound close to a giggle.

“You’re not seriously going to count them all.”

Steve gave him an imperious look. “Gotta see if you’re right. Now be quiet. You’re going to throw off my count.”

Tony knew this was ridiculous, but he couldn’t seem to make himself leave. He kept telling himself he shouldn’t be encouraging Steve, but he stayed anyway, watching and laughing as he meticulously counted out each and every condom.

He’d made it to 616 when Bucky appeared, looming in the doorway as he poked at his phone. “Hey Stevie, you ready to go for… Lunch?” He trailed off as he looked up and saw what the two of them were doing, his eyebrows going sky high. “Uh. I’ll come back. Looks like you two are gonna be awhile. I don’t know what this is annnnnnnnd I don’t think I want to.”

“It’s science, Bucky,” Steve told him snottily, not looking up from his condom count.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is not science.”

“Of course it is!”

“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m just gonna…” He pointed for the door, but neither of them even looked his way as he left again.

“It’s math, Steve, and it’s barely that,” Tony insisted. “This is... counting.”

Steve gave him a look like he was an absolute fool. “I may be a lowly guidance counsellor, but I still know what counting is, Tony. The science is figuring out whether you can actually calculate the number of condoms in the jar --,”

“I can.”

“-- Or if you were spouting shit to fuck with me.”

“I wasn’t. And it’s still math, Steve. You’ve got the volume of the jar, and then size of the condom square. Math.”

Steve stared at him for a long minute and then, without breaking eye contact, tossed another condom back into the jar. “Six hundred and eighteen.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “That was six hundred and seventeen.”

Steve ended up having to start over twice, and Tony was so busy laughing at him that he didn’t realize until 2:05 that he’d missed both his lunch and his free period and was, in fact, five minutes late for his AP Physics class.

“Shit,” he yelped, hopping out of his seat. “Those kids don’t let anything go, I’ve gotta run.” He paused in the doorway just long enough to give Steve a smirk. “Let me know when you’ve proved me right!”

The kids were all scattered around the room when he got there, Riri, Harley, and Kamala giggling over something on their phones, Cassie and Kate comparing notes on homework that was definitely not for physics, and Peter and Miles experimenting with something in the corner that may or may not have been explosive. Tony shook his head, feeling a headache coming on.

“Okay, I’m sorry I’m late, unavoidable circumstances. Let’s get started, yeah?”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter called, beaming at him. Nobody made any move to go to their seats. “If you’d taken seven more minutes, we’d be legally allowed to go home.”

“That’s… Not even remotely true.” He shook his head and clapped his hands together. “Come on, children. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Shouldn’t’ve been late then,” Harley snarked, but at least they were finally heading to their seats.

It was halfway through class when there was a knock on the door, and Tony opened it to some blonde girl he vaguely recognized from Nat’s lit class.

“Message for you from Mr. Rogers!” she chirped, heading off down the hall before he could ask further. His students were focused on their readings, and Tony took advantage of the moment to open the note, frowning as he tried to decipher the writing.

758 exactly. There’s something wrong with you. Also, I owe you lunch. Thursday?

Tony sat at his desk, and managed to read it over five times before Kamala happened to look up and see him.

“Hey, Mr. Stark? Why are you grinning like that?”

As soon as his lunch period started on Thursday, Tony headed down to Steve’s office, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t been looking forward to this since he’d gotten Steve’s note. The door was open, waiting for him, and he headed inside and promptly yelped as a king-sized Kit Kat bar was launched at his head.

“What the fuck?” He flailed as he tried to catch it, somehow managing not to drop it on the ground. He wasn’t particularly graceful about it, and Steve was openly laughing at him. “What was that for?”

Steve shrugged, unconcerned. “The kids get a mini Kat Kat if they’re close in their guess. You were exactly right, so I figured you get extra chocolate.”

Tony eyed him suspiciously and ignored the little delighted thrill in his stomach. “But you didn’t know how many condoms were in the jar.”

“Okay, so I just gave everyone a mini Kit Kat. Sue me.”

Tony just narrowed his eyes further. “So is this our lunch?”

Steve actually snorted. “Do I look like I survive on giant chocolate bars?” he asked, immediately flexing his biceps and twitching a pec. Tony started laughing, couldn’t stop himself, and Steve looked immensely pleased with himself. “No, Tony. I got us sushi.” Tony felt his eyebrows creep up to his hairline, and Steve huffed. “Okay, what?”

“Nothing!” Tony said quickly. “No, I just… You don’t strike me as a sushi guy.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “And what kind of guy, exactly, do you think I am?”

Tony shrugged as Steve passed him a container of sushi. “A giant, uncultured gym bro neanderthal who knows more about planking and protein shakes than he does guidance counselloring, but somehow got a job here anyway?”

“You’re such an asshole,” Steve muttered, but he was obviously fighting a smile.

Tony shrugged. “It’s like you know me or something.” He laughed, knocking back a tuna roll. “How did you get this job?”

“Bucky. We’re old friends, and now he’s my roommate too. So when the job opened, he hooked me up.”

“I mean, everyone knows that much. I meant why here? Why a guidance counsellor? No offense Steve, but you’re kinda terrible at it.”

Steve didn’t look offended in the slightest. “Hey, I wanted to teach art, but the job was already filled and somehow administration thinks art and guidance counselling are interchangeable.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Living in Brooklyn ain’t cheap. Somewhere since high school it became trendy, I guess? It was this or baristaing at a coffee shop near my apartment, but their coffee smells like soap.”

"Yikes."

"Yikes, indeed. Anyway, enough about why I’m so terrible at my job.” Steve nodded at the chopsticks in Tony’s hand. “Eat your damn sushi, Tony. You don’t eat enough.”

Tony paused with another tuna roll halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean, I don’t eat enough?”

“Every time you come in here it’s always over lunch. And then you usually stay through lunch and your prep period, and you don’t eat anything the entire time. You need to eat more.”

“Okay, stalker.” Tony shifted a little uncomfortably. “What are you, my nonna? I eat fine.” He huffed and slunk down in his seat, pulling his sushi tray closer on the desk. Steve just blinked back at him placidly and then reached out, putting his hand over top of Tony’s.

“It’s okay, Tony. I’m a guidance counsellor. You can talk to me.”

He said it in the same way that people on television crime procedurals tell the women they find in basements that they’re with the FBI, and Tony started laughing despite himself. And then he nearly choked on a California roll when Steve started passing him glossy pamphlets on healthy lifestyle choices.

The next day Tony made a point of showing up for lunch with a huge gas station soda and an enormous bag of pretzel sticks. Steve didn’t stop grinning the entire time.

Before either of them had realized it, it had turned into something of a routine. Not every day, but usually two or three times a week, Tony would forgo his lunch or prep period, or both, and come bother Steve instead. Steve had expressed concern once, that he wasn’t using his prep periods to, you know, prep, but Tony had assured him that being a genius came with some benefits. And really, his visits had quickly become the highlight of his day, and he had a feeling that Steve was enjoying them just as much, so he wasn’t going to worry about it too much.

Once Tony had gotten over his initial concerns about Steve’s guidance counselling methods, the two of them got along ridiculously well. Tony gave Steve shit constantly but it never failed to make him laugh, and he was just as good at giving it in kind. They bickered constantly, but it was friendly and easy and familiar.

Tony had never made friends easily. He got along great with all his coworkers, but with the possible exception of Nat, they were more friendly acquaintances than full friends. When he was a kid, Jarvis had told him that he was just too smart, that the other kids would catch up to him eventually. But that hadn’t seemed to happen, even as an adult. He didn’t know if people were freaked out by his multiple degrees, or if it was the chaotic energy he gave off, or most likely, some conflagration of the above, but aside from a few close friends -- who, admittedly, he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world -- people didn’t really… Warm to him.

Steve, though. Steve was different. Almost from the beginning Tony had felt a connection with him, and while he never failed to let Tony know how impressed he was by what he could do, he never seemed intimidated by him either. Tony would never say it to his face, but he kind of adored him.

Tony popped his head into Steve’s office a few minutes before the end of the day, arching an eyebrow when he found him frowning over some a manual with stick figures doing what looked like some kind of sport -- soccer, probably. He cleared his throat, and couldn’t help smiling back when Steve looked up and positively beamed at him.

“Getting a head start on your weekend reading there, Steve?”

Steve blew out an exasperated breath, rolling his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Soccer,” he explained, confirming Tony’s suspicions. “Apparently, I’m the new coach of the girl’s soccer team.” He pouted a little. “Administration is really hard to say no to.”

Tony considered this, taking a seat across from Steve and propping his feet up on the desk. “Why isn’t Clint doing it? It is kind of his job.”

“He’s busy with archery finals, it seems.”

“Archery… Finals?” Tony repeated, blinking curiously. “We’re the only school with an archery team. They split into two and compete against each other.”

Steve shrugged miserably, and Tony tossed a pen at his forehead to get him to smile.

“Hey, come on, there are worse things you could be coaching. Those lacrosse kids are wild.”

“Yeah…” Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “Except for two tiny little details. First, those girls are intimidating as fuck. They scare the shit outta me. And second? I… Don’t actually know anything about soccer.”

Tony snorted with laughter, before he realized Steve was serious and did his best to compose himself. “I’m sorry, how do you not know anything about soccer? You’re…” He gestured vaguely to indicate Steve’s general physique, and Steve sighed glumly.

“Yeah, I think that was the administration’s thought too. But I grew up as a scrawny art student. I know baseball, and that’s it.”

“Huh. The more you know.”

Steve groaned. “So now I’ve got to learn all these soccer rules for tomorrow, none of which make any sense to me.” He frowned down at the manual. “And aren’t there linebackers and quarterbackers and shit?”

Tony couldn’t help laughing then, not even trying to hide it. “Steve, that’s football.”

“Yeah,” Steve replied, in his ‘duh, Tony,’ voice. “Which is soccer.”

They were still arguing about the two different kinds of football when Steve realized that he had parking lot duty. Not one to admit defeat, Tony had tagged along with him. He was once again trying to explain why American football was called football (“but it doesn’t even make sense if they barely use their feet, Tony!”) when a bright, flashy convertible had pulled into the pick-up lane. Tony caught a glimpse of Steve’s confused frown before the car pulled forward enough that he could see the driver and he went stock still, grabbing at Steve’s arm.

“Honeybear?” he yelped, loud enough that a couple of the lingering students turned their way as well. Steve gave Tony a bewildered stare but Tony hardly noticed, his eyes focused on Rhodey, leaning up until he was practically out of his seat and waving his arm at him, looking delicious in a tight white t-shirt that pulled against his biceps.

“Hey, Tones! Guess who’s back, baby!”

Tony made a noise that a lesser man might have even called a squeal, but he felt exactly zero shame about it as he took off for the car. “Bye Steve, gotta go, see you Monday!” he hollered over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t bother with the door, hopping over the side and sliding into the passenger seat. Rhodey lingered just long enough for Tony to give him an enormous kiss on the cheek before the two of them sped off.

“Uh. Bye,” Steve told them empty space beside him.

“So,” Rhodey said, yelling a little to be heard as they sped down the freeway with the top down, wind whistling through the car. “Was that your big gay crush?”

Tony choked on nothing, turning his head to face him so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. “My what?” he repeated.

Rhodey looked over at him long enough to give him a stare. “Literally every conversation we’ve had in the past few weeks has been about him, Tones.”

“That’s not the proper use of the word literally,” Tony grumbled, and Rhodey shrugged, letting it slide.

Tony couldn’t though, milling it over in his head, and when they turned into the Italian restaurant in Bridgeport, he turned to Rhodey again.

“Okay, no, so wait. Why do you think I have a crush on Steve?”

“Tones…” Rhodey gave him a fond smile. “Come on, man, we’ve been friends for how many years now? I know what you look like when you’re crushing on someone. Even if apparently you don’t.” He gave him a pointed look, snorting when Tony just rolled his eyes at him. “You talk about him all the time. And sure, some of it is ‘complaining’ about how big and beefy he is, but a lot of it is how smart he is, and how funny, and how he’ll always call you on your shit… You don’t have to actually say the words, Tony. I can just tell.”

Tony pouted at the dashboard, mulling this over. “You’re dumb,” he decided finally, ignoring Rhodey’s snickers as he climbed out of the car. “Hurry up, asshole. I’m starving. And I don’t have a crush on Steve!”

“Alright, alright, fine,” Rhodey soothed, obviously not believing him in the slightest. “Whatever you say.”

Tony shot him a glare and didn’t hold the door for him as he headed into the restaurant. After that was the usual flurry of activity when Anna spotted them from behind the cash and hollered at Roberto to come out from the kitchen so they could make their usual fuss over the two of them. He and Rhodey had found the place by accident on a Boston to New York road trip in college, and at this point they'd been coming back for fifteen years.

With all the distractions, Tony was well into the garlic bread before another thought occurred to him. “Waiiiit,” he mumbled around a full mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Rhodey, who blinked back at him over his glass of wine. “Is that why you rented the flashy convertible? And why you used the pick-up lane? You never do that, you know it’s just supposed to be for students that time of day. Did you do that so Steve would see? Because you think I’m into him?”

Rhodey shrugged, looking smug and pleased with himself. “I already know you’re emotionally stunted, but I figured if Steve hadn’t gotten off his ass and asked you out yet, maybe there was a chance he was just as bad.”

“Or, he could just be straight,” Tony pointed out which, he realized belatedly, wasn’t exactly a denial of his crush on Steve.

Rhodey just snorted. “No man could be totally straight around you, Tones. You’re a catch,” he informed him, just to see Tony try to not look all pleased and delighted. “Anyway, I figured -- assuming he’s not straight -- that it couldn’t hurt to give him something to be a little jealous of. And he was definitely gonna be jealous of me.” Rhodey lifted his arms, flexing them so his t-shirt once more strained against his t-shirt. “If you’re a catch, then I’m Moby Dick baby.” He beamed when Tony giggled into his salad. “You need me to be your big gay wingman? I’m 100% here for you, Tones.”

Tony just shook his head, still laughing. “You’re such a dumbass,” he informed him.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

The weekend had been everything Tony hadn’t realized he needed, the two of them doing all their favourite things and generally leaving a wake of chaos wherever they went. Tony loved his life, felt very fulfilled by what he did and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But he always missed Rhodey like a limb when he wasn’t around, and having him back again, even temporarily, set something at ease in Tony’s chest.

The only problem, if he could really call it that, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhodey said about Steve. He hadn’t brought it up again, but that didn’t stop Tony from playing it over and over again, considering the previous conversations he’d had where Steve had been mentioned, with Rhodey, but with Pepper and Happy too. And, as an extension of that, how careful he was not to bring him up when he and Nat would sneak out for gelato over the lunch break, or how he didn’t join in when Bucky would start ragging on Steve in the staff room, all, “Jesus Rogers, you already look like you could stop a helicopter with your bare hands. Maybe give the gym a rest, huh?” (although Tony did have to hide his own smile at the teasing, and a couple times had caught Steve watching him with a look that one might have even described as pleased.)

And of course, thinking about all of that led to thinking about Steve himself. He was gorgeous, obviously, Tony would have to be blind not to be aware of that. But there was also how much he found himself looking forward to spending time with him, more than almost anyone else. He still hadn’t gotten tired of him, not really, not even when they argued, and he took special pride in finding ways to make Steve laugh. Steve could have been 5’2 and 96 pounds, and he would have enjoyed spending time with him just as much.

By Sunday night, when Tony found himself lost in thought again, only to realize that he’d spent the last five minutes thinking about the very specific wrinkles Steve would get in his forehead whenever he smiled, Tony had to admit defeat.

“Fuck,” he announced to his empty living room. “I’ve got a big gay crush on Steve Rogers.”

To Tony’s credit, once he’d come to a conclusion, he wasn’t the type to sit back and wallow in it. Despite leaving him only an hour later, he grabbed his phone, dialing Rhodey’s number.

“Hey Tones.” Rhodey answered on the third ring, sounding lazy and also like he was in the middle of eating something. “Miss me already?”

“Always, honeybear,” Tony responded automatically. “But also, uh… So… You may not have been so crazy after all.”

“About your big gay crush on the guidance counsellor?” Rhodey asked, because he knew Tony like nobody else. “Obviously.”

“Shut up,” Tony whined. “You know how much I hate not knowing things.” He grinned at the warm huff of laughter that came down the line at that. “So how would you feel about… Still playing the big gay wingman?”

“I’m listening…”

“Our JROTC volunteer is out for the next few weeks, some kind of family thing, and I thought, you know… You can volunteer? Take his place for a bit? And then, you know, you and I can hang out like all the time while you’re on leave, and as an extra bonus, it might make Steve jealous.”

“I mean, there’s a big difference between that, and picking you up at school in a shiny car,” Rhodey pointed out. “Sounds kinda complicated. I’d probably end up meeting him, even. You sure you don’t just want to… Tell him how you feel?”

Tony scoffed down the line. “I know you like to offer that advice for every situation, but I want you to know that the only reason that worked for you and Carol is because she thought your dumb drunk ass needed protecting. You triggered her alpha instinct, that’s all.”

“If you say so,” Rhodey told him, but Tony could already tell he was going to say yes. “Fine. But I want you to know, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m only agreeing so I have a chance to bug you while you’re trying to work.”

Tony beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Somewhere along the way, Steve’s (not-so) subtle ogling of Tony had turned into a full-on crush, and that had grown until Steve was pretty sure he was half in love with the man. He was doing his best to be cool about it, but he’d never met anyone quite like Tony Stark before. He found him constantly drifting into his thoughts, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn’t seem to stop daydreaming about them being more than friends, even when he tried to tell himself that Tony was probably straight.

Or at least, he had thought that Tony was straight, right up until Friday afternoon.

Steve knew it was none of his business. He had his own life out of work, and so did Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy wondering who the hell the gorgeous man who picked Tony up from school on Friday had been, and what their relationship was. The sheer joy that had been in Tony’s voice when he’d called out to him had left Steve’s heart somewhere around his knees, made worse by the so obviously affectionate and familiar nickname. He hadn’t missed the enormous cheek kiss that Tony had given him either. And sure, a kiss on the cheek didn’t necessarily scream romantic relationship, and they could just as easily be friends. But there was an ugly part of Steve that kept rearing up, insisting that he would consider himself and Tony to be friends, and he had never gotten a kiss cheek.

By Monday morning, Steve was practically itching to see Tony. Bucky, he knew, was totally sick of him after Steve had spent the entire weekend oscillating between moping and distraction, and refusing to tell him why. But the Home Ec room was right beside Tony’s classroom, so instead of going to his own office, Steve followed Bucky upstairs and then stood outside the doorway as Bucky made sure the cooking stations were prepped for the day, talking at him from the hallway. And the second he saw Tony making his way toward his classroom, looking sleepy and still a little out of it, he turned away entirely, not noticing that he was abandoning Bucky mid-sentence.

“Hey Tony!”

It went downhill from there. Tony made a strangled yelping noise, which Steve would have found adorable if not for the way everything he was holding scattered. His bag fell from his shoulder, flap opening and sending a cascade of pens and pencils and erasers flying across the floor. The cell phone he’d been texting on hit the ground with a thud that made Steve wince, and a tumbler went rolling off down the hall, leaving behind a dribbled trail of coffee leaking from the lid.

“Oh shit,” Steve said, staring horrified at the mess for a minute before he moved to help, grabbing the tumbler as it started to roll past him and getting coffee all over his hand in the process. He ignored it, moving to help gather Tony’s other things. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Tony reassured him, already bent over and picking things up. “I was just distracted. You startled me, is all.”

“Still,” Steve insisted, and was about to explain further but he and Tony both reached for a pen at the same time, heads cracking together. “Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony clasped a hand to his forehead with a pained noise, cursing creatively under his breath. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” They both straightened up, and he offered Tony a rueful smile. “I was just gonna ask how your weekend was.”

“Oh!” The pain on Tony’s face melted away entirely as he smiled soft and sweet and pleased in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d quite seen before. He tried to keep his own smile normal, but all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what a smile was supposed to feel like, or what he even normally did with his face or arms or hands. Tony didn’t seem to notice. “It was really, really great. I got to spend the entire weekend with my Rhodeybear. It was just what I needed. He’s like my other half, and I missed him like crazy. Hey!” His entire face lit up. “You should meet him sometime.”

“Right.” Steve nodded as normally as he could. “Yeah, maybe. That would be… Great. I’m glad you had a nice time, Tony,” he added, at least managing to be genuine with that. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll catch you later?” He started to head for his office, and then realized he was still holding the travel mug. “Oh right, here.”

He handed it over, taking a moment to suck away a stray drop of coffee that was sliding down the side of his index finger. Then Tony made a worrying wheezing noise and Steve stopped, staring at him. “Are you alright?”

Tony nodded just a couple more times than Steve would have classified as normal. “Yup,” he said, suddenly mumbling and not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Just gotta…” He trailed off and darted into his classroom without any further explanation.

“Okayyyy?” Steve said.

Tony was acting weird, there was no doubt about it. Steve had assumed that after crashing into each other, they might meet for lunch as usual, but otherwise go about their day. Instead, Tony had popped into his office no less than four times that morning, every time on official business, but with fiddly little things that could have been passed along by a student messenger, or an email. But he’d also spotted Tony outside his office several other times, sometimes lingering outside his door absorbed in something on his phone, sometimes just walking down the hall just a little too casually to be entirely normal. Steve couldn’t think of another reason for him to be in this particular hallway, but Tony would look up from his phone like he hadn’t realized this was even where he was, and a couple of times Steve had glanced up just in time to see Tony’s eyes dart away like he’d been staring at him right before. The few times they’d made full eye contact and Steve had smiled at him, Tony’s return smile had been what Steve might have called shy, if it had been coming from anyone besides Tony.

His first thought was that Tony had figured out about the crush (not an obsession, whatever Bucky said) Steve had on him, and was freaked out, and that’s what was making him act so weird. But when they met up for lunch everything seemed normal between them, and Tony certainly didn’t act like someone who was freaked out. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now that he was pretty sure if his feelings weren’t returned, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to let him know -- gently, and he’d probably be real sweet about it, but he wouldn’t let Steve drive himself crazy wondering, wouldn’t give him a chance to make a fool of himself over it.

And then he thought it might have had something to do with his company over the weekend, this Rhodey guy that Steve was absolutely not jealous of, that he was the one that had Tony all twisted up in knots. Tony had sounded smitten with him, but then again, Tony was dramatic like that. It didn’t have to mean there was anything there. And that wouldn’t have explained why he was acting so weird around Steve, who didn’t even know the guy.

Which led Steve to his next thought, the one that felt a little too fantastical to be true, even if the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. Because the little smiles, the almost blushes that Tony would have… What if Steve’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he had thought? Maybe Tony had a thing for him too, and that’s why he was acting all flustered and strange? Steve knew he was probably not the most unbiased opinion, that wanting it to be true was maybe skewing his perspective a little, making him see things a certain way. But if Tony didn’t suddenly hate him -- and he was positive that wasn’t the case -- was it so crazy to think that the little glances and smiles were a sign of something more?

He felt bolstered by the idea, unable to let it go once it was in his head. He’d never been one for letting things slide, and almost immediately he made up his mind to Talk To Tony, to maybe ask if he wanted to grab coffee after work, or a drink, and then he could tell him how he felt, see if he felt the same.

His morning flew by, distracted by daydreams of what would come next. Steve had always been a visual thinker, and he could picture all too clearly the slow smile that would spread across Tony’s cheeks when he realized his feelings weren't unrequited, the way he’d duck his head and glance up through his eyelashes (a move that always drove Steve crazy). How drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to walking him home and -- since it was Steve’s daydream, dammit -- having Tony inviting him inside. What it would be like to finally get to kiss him, to feel his skin under his fingers with purpose, instead of just a glancing brush as they shared food or walked along beside each other?

He was still daydreaming about it when he walked into the gym right before lunchtime, intending to ask Clint another question about soccer, and stopped dead.

He had been very, very wrong.

Tony was there, for some reason, but even more confusing was the fact that this Rhodey guy was with him. Not that the why of it really mattered, Steve supposed. Tony was practically hanging off the other man’s back, crooning into his ear. As Steve watched, he pressed a big sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek. “Come on, platypus,” he wheedled, delight evident in his voice. Rhodey was shaking his head and pretending to be annoyed but there was a fond, pleased smile on his face and his hand came up to hold on to Tony’s arm around his chest.

Steve may have been accused of being hopelessly optimistic, but he wasn’t naive. Whatever had had Tony acting so weird before, it obviously wasn’t a crush on Steve.

Suddenly very much needing to be anywhere else, Steve turned to try and sneak back out of the gym and promptly tripped over a stray basketball. He couldn’t help cursing as he rolled his ankle, and then winced as the sound rang out through the mostly empty space.

“Steve!” Tony looked startled at his sudden appearance, doing a weird little fidgety dance before he forced himself to still and gave him a bright smile. “Come here! You didn’t get to meet him last week, come meet my Rhodeybear!”

Steve started to mumble out some excuse about paperwork or meetings, but almost instantly Tony was across the room, grabbing him by the arm and forcibly pulling him over to Rhodey, who was very obviously trying not to laugh.

“Rhodey, this is Steve, our new guidance counselor. Steve, this is Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. I talked him into volunteering with the ROTC kids while he’s on leave for the next month.”

Steve managed a smile as Rhodey reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Hey man. Good to finally meet you. Tones talks about you all the time.”

He glanced at Tony over Steve’s shoulder, and something on Tony’s face made him laugh. His eyes were sharp and perceptive and Steve felt a flare of panic because oh shit, he knew. Somehow this man had figured out that Steve had a crush on his boyfriend. And the worst part was that he didn’t seem angry. There was no threat in his handshake, his smile open and friendly.

“Uh, good to meet you too,” he managed, doing his best to smile back at him and not look like he was having a complete panic attack.

There was something so effortlessly cool about Rhodey. He was, frankly, gorgeous, with his teasing smile and ridiculously well-fitting leather jacket to boot, but he seemed genuinely nice too. He could have been a total ass, throwing it in Steve’s face that he was with Tony, but there was nothing of that in his body language. Steve couldn’t help liking him immediately, and he usually had good instincts for these things. But he also couldn’t help being intimidated and more than a little jealous -- although, for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure of which one. It was definitely Rhodey; his ridiculous crush was on Tony, so of course Rhodey was the one he was jealous of. It was maybe also a little bit Tony because fuck, Rhodey was cool.

Steve was barely aware of the conversation that followed, feeling his heart sink lower every time he caught a glimpse of the besotted smile on Tony’s face. They made small talk for a few minutes, and at least he was pretty sure that he hadn’t said anything too strange, even if he sort of felt like his own face was melting. There were vague plans made for the three of them to get together for drinks or something in the next few weeks (Steve had exactly zero intention of following through on that particular idea) and then he was finally able to make his escape. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he slipped his way down the hall and back to his own office, where he shut the door firmly behind him and slunk down in his desk chair, letting his head fall against the desk with a slight bang, whining into the empty space.

After that, Steve backed off a little, not wanting to seem like he was encroaching on their relationship. He was crazy about Tony, but he wanted him to be happy, and the two of them seemed right together. And clearly Rhodey had a good effect on Tony, because after a few more days whatever seemed to be going on with him stopped too. The manic behaviour evened out as he went back to how they’d been before, if maybe slightly more awkward than they’d once been. They still met for lunch regularly, still got along stupidly well, goofing around and joking and making each other laugh. If their lunches were slightly less often than they’d once been, well, Steve supposed that made sense when Tony’s boyfriend was right there at the school with him. He should be glad he still got lunch with Tony at all.

A few more weeks, and even that slight awkwardness had faded. They were warm and familiar around each other again, their new normal somehow less and more than it had been before. Steve still had a thing for Tony, but now it felt settled into him, like it was just a part of who he was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought he might have settled right into being completely in love with Tony. But he could be normal around him, because that was just part of their friendship, loving Tony just a part of who he was now. He felt right being around Tony, even if there was sometimes a bittersweet ache, and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything.

But every once in awhile, he’d catch Tony giving him a soft, sad smile that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see, a look on his face that Steve might have described as just a little disappointed, and he couldn’t help wondering. Maybe if Tony had been single, and maybe if Steve had been just a little less scared, they might have been able to have something more between them.

Tony huffed out a sigh, having no idea what was going on in the movie he was watching with Rhodey. “Honeybear,” he said. “I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

“Tony Stark? Giving up?” Rhodey rolled his head along the back of the couch, giving Tony a slightly tipsy grin. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hilarious,” Tony told him dryly, grinning despite himself. “I’m serious. I don’t think Steve is into me. I thought he was jealous at first but…” He shrugged helplessly. “And we’re friends. Like, really good friends. He’s probably the person I trust most after you. I shouldn’t try to mess with that, right?”

“I don’t think it’s messing with it, exactly,” Rhodey told him. “Starting a romantic relationship with him isn’t necessarily better or worse than being friends. It’s just... Different.” He obviously understood Tony’s point though. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?”

Tony just shrugged again, a crooked, self-deprecating smile on his lips, and Rhodey rubbed his hand over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry man,” he told him, hauling Tony against him for a hug.

“It’s okay,” Tony mumbled into Rhodey’s neck, though his arms squeezed around his waist, holding on tight for a long minute. “Really. I love having him as a friend too, and I’ll get over the whole crush thing eventually. I’ll be okay. I always am.”

Rhodey hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. “Still. Ice cream and bourbon in the meantime?”

Tony managed a real smile then, though he didn’t let go of Rhodey right away. “Definitely.”

Steve sat alone in the restaurant, fighting a smile at the sympathetic looks he kept getting from the wait staff. He was meeting his friend Sharon for dinner after she’d been overseas for the last six months on a work contract. But Sharon was notoriously bad at personal appointments, so it was hit or miss whether she’d actually turn up or if she would cancel at the last minute again. Steve wasn’t really phased, used to it by now.

He was occupying himself with games on his phone when he heard a familiar voice. He frowned at the screen, trying to place it before he looked up and made awkward eye contact with someone he’d rather avoid, and then realized it was Rhodey. Immediately he wondered if Tony was with him, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought, even though he’d just seen him a few hours ago. Looking around for them, he smiled when he spotted Rhodey’s familiar form first. And then his heart stopped beating completely for a moment.

Rhodey wasn’t with Tony.

There was a woman with him, tall and muscular with short blonde hair. She was just as gorgeous as Rhodey, the two of them an admittedly stunning pair. She was laughing too, not quite as loud, and there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at him. Then Rhodey’s hand came up, sliding across the table to tangle his fingers with hers, the movement familiar and intimate. He leaned forward, murmuring something soft that Steve couldn’t catch, and then she was pulling back with a wide smile.

“Check please?” she hollered with absolutely no decorum, making Rhodey burst out laughing again.

Steve ducked behind his menu, watching the two of them gather up their things. He didn’t particularly want to confront Rhodey here and now, just in case he was wrong, but fortunately (or not) they only seemed to have eyes for each other. Rhodey helped her with her jacket, making the woman snort and try to elbow him, and he kept his hand very low on her back, right on the edge of being inappropriate, as they walked to the door. Steve turned away as they walked right past the table, but he looked up in time to see them pause in the foyer, mostly out of sight, before the women fisted her hands in Rhodey’s shirt and pulled him for a slow, lingering, hungry kiss. Rhodey looked downright dazed when she’d pulled back, until she said something else to make him laugh and the two of them slipped out the front door.

Steve stared at the space where they’d been for a long time after they’d gone.

“Shit.”

Sharon did end up cancelling on him, and with Bucky away on a bonding trip with some old army buddies, Steve was left alone to stew around the apartment all weekend. Normally he’d probably have gone to Tony for advice, but that obviously wasn’t an option here and Steve didn’t know what to do.

He knew he should tell Tony; he’d want to know if it were him. But then there was the question of if he’d want Steve to be the one to tell him -- or, for that matter, if Steve wanted to be the one to tell him, which he definitely didn’t. If Tony had figured out about Steve’s crush on him, would he even believe him? He honestly didn’t know what he would do if Tony thought he was making it up to get between him and his boyfriend. He’d like to think Tony knew him better than that, but people could get weird about their significant others.

By Monday morning, Steve still had no idea what he was going to do. He had barely slept all weekend and was tired and miserable, found himself taking the long way round to his office to avoid the chance of running into Tony in the staff room.

“Wow, Rogers. You look terrible.”

Lost in thought, Steve nearly jumped at the sound of Nat’s voice. He looked up to see her sitting in her classroom, grading papers and watching him with an amused look on her face.

“Yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

Some of the amusement slid off her face and she arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay?”

Steve shrugged. ”Just… Life,” he offered vaguely. Then he blinked at her, eyes going wide. “You can help me though! I… I need you to talk to Tony for me. It’s kind of a big thing. Please, Nat? I don’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m worried he’ll hate me if I tell him, or won’t believe me, or both. But it won’t seem so… personal coming from you. Blunt honesty is your whole thing, right? Plus he’s more likely to believe you when he’s already half terrified of you anyway.”

Nat was back to looking amused, trying to follow Steve’s rambling. “And why is Tony half terrified of me?”

Steve winced. “Uh… There’s a rumor going around that you’re secretly a Russian sleeper agent?”

“The Cold War ended in 1991,” she told him without missing a beat, voice eerily atonal. “Russia and America are allies now.”

There was a moment of absolute silence before she cracked up and Steve glared at her.

“That. That is exactly why people are scared of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him airily, before relenting with a sigh. “Okay, so what is it that you need me to tell Tony?”

“I… Rhodey’s cheating on him,” he blurted out all in a rush, before he could chicken out. “I saw him at dinner on Friday with this gorgeous woman, and they were very clearly together, kissing and everything, and I just… I don’t know how to tell him.

Nat stared at him, blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. Steve frowned at her, taken aback, but as Natasha kept on laughing, to the point that there were actual tears coming from her eyes, Steve got more and more cranky. Folding his arms across his chest, his frown turned into a full on glare as he waited for her to get control of herself.

“Are you done?” he asked when she finally stopped laughing what felt like five minutes later. “Cause I’d really like to know what’s so funny about all of this.”

But Natasha just shook her head, still grinning. “Let me know when you figure it out, Steve.”

By the end of the day, Steve had successfully managed to avoid Tony, and he was exhausted. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, and he didn’t particularly want to. He’d missed Tony today. Even on the days when they didn’t get to spend time together, there was always a smile and wave when they passed each other in the hall. This just felt weird.

Going the long way again, he made his way to Bucky’s classroom, hovering in the doorway as he watched Bucky put away the last of the materials they’d been using.

“Hey Buck?” he said after a minute.

Bucky looked up, frowning at the look on Steve’s face. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

Steve ignored that. “Remember, when we were kids, and I grabbed you before you fell off the fire escape showing off for Jenny Calloway? And you said you owed me your first born? I’m cashing in. I need you to do something for me, no questions. And if you laugh at me, I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandkids’ teeth’ll hurt.”

“Well that seems unnecessary,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against one of the work stations. “You know I’d do it if you just said please. Seriously, Stevie, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up?”

“Rhodey is cheating on Tony. I saw him with someone, and… They were definitely together. Can you just like… Let it slip? I’m afraid if I tell him he’ll think I’m lying, because --,”

“You’re desperately in love with him?” he asked, lips quirking up.

“Buck!” Steve looked around like Tony was suddenly going to pop out of the corner of the classroom and call him out on it. “Come on, this is serious. Don’t fucking laugh at me!”

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, and was quiet for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still fighting back a smile. “Right, okay,” he said, pushing off the desk and striding into the hallway. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“No, shit, wait,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean right now!” He started to follow Bucky down the hall, then stopped after a few feet because Bucky had already reached Tony’s classroom, and he didn't think he wanted to be here for this. But while Steve was debating if he could make it to the stairs before Bucky said something, Bucky knocked sharply on the side of the doorframe.

“Hey! Stevie thinks you’re dating Rhodes,” he announced, before wandering off down the hall. Steve stared after him because what the fuck, that wasn’t what he’d told him to say, and where was he even going?

Before he had a chance to process, there was a crash from Tony’s classroom and then faintly, the sound of his voice. “Did he just…?” He sounded strangled, and then he was skidding into the hallway, hair standing up about five inches from his head and eyes wild.

“Um, hi,” he said. Steve could practically see his chest heaving from here.

“Hi,” Steve said back a little stupidly.

“I’m not dating Rhodey,” Tony burst out, staring at Steve with wide eyes like he couldn’t look away. “Never have been. Well, we had an almost thing in university, but -- that’s not the point. Rhodey and I aren’t together.” He gaze shifted, looking at Steve imploringly. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Steve swallowed hard.

“I just…” He took a couple tentative steps toward Tony. “He showed up, and you were all over him, and you had about five million nicknames for him and so… I figured…”

“Nope,” Tony said quickly. “We’re just… Like that. Rhodey is very firmly in love with somebody else. We, uh… I was helping him shop for engagement rings last week.” He took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them, eyes somewhere around Steve’s collarbone. “Listen, Rogers. I know Carol looks like a lesbian, but so does Clint with the wrong glasses and a slim-cut pant, so please reconsider your personal biases and trust me. It's her and Rhodey. And it's.... it's you and me. Right?"

Steve could feel the ridiculous smile splitting his cheeks. “Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless.

“I mean…” Tony looked up at him through ridiculously long eyelashes. “I’d like it to be?”

There were a million and one things that Steve could say in response to that, but he couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, dipping his head to kiss him softly. Tony made a soft, whimpery noise, hands coming up to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease against the seam of Tony’s lips for a minute before he pulled back again, just a little.

“I thought… You were acting so weird. I thought you’d figured out I had a crush on you and, you know. Didn’t know how to turn me down.”

Tony made a pained noise, and then started laughing, pressing his face into Steve’s chest. His entire body was shaking with it, and Steve couldn’t help grinning as he wrapped his hands around Tony’s back.

“I was acting weird because I had a thing for you. I figured you couldn’t possibly be interested because otherwise, why wouldn’t you have made a move? I was laying it on way too strong. I’ve never been the best at processing stuff like that. I get a little… manic.”

Steve wanted to kick his own ass, but it was hard to be upset when he finally, finally had his arms full of Tony. “Really?” he teased instead. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Tony bit his pec in retaliation — it was right there, how was he supposed to resist? — sending a full-body shudder through Steve. There wasn’t much for him to do after that but pull Tony up into another kiss, and then another, until they were making out lazily right there in the hallway.

They might have kept going forever, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing.

“Okay, seriously guys?” Bucky protested. “I’ve been killing time with Nat for the past half hour. Can’t you do that in one of your own classrooms? Or better yet, a goddamn bedroom? Preferably not in our shared apartment,” he added with a glare at Steve.

Steve could feel his cheeks heating, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed, especially not with the smirk Tony was leveling at him. Steve shivered again, and his smirk grew wider.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, tossing a look at Bucky over his shoulder. “We’re going. Don’t get your ponytail in a knot.” Then he caught Steve’s hand. “Can I uh… can I buy you dinner? I know a great Italian place. Not too fancy, cozy… intimate.”

Steve’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “Sounds like a date,” he said, getting a goofy little delighted giggle out of Tony.

“You know,” Tony said as they headed for the parking lot, fingers entwined. “You don’t have to be jealous of Rhodey’s nicknames. I can give you a nickname.”

Steve snorted. “I’ve heard some of Rhodey’s nicknames. I think I’m okay.”

Tony stuck his tongue out at him, softening it by standing on tiptoe to give him another quick kiss. “Oh, what about Cap? You know, like Captain America? In the old comic books? You kind of look like him, all big and blond and buff and like you could single-handedly take down a Nazi base and rescue the damsel in distress. The damsel in distress being me, obviously.”

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and happier than he’d ever been. “Tony, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

@tonystarkbingo

#tonystarkbingo2020 #tsb2020 #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #teacher au #mutual pining #get together #james rhodes #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #background carol/rhodey #fic #my fic

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letterboxd · 4 years

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How I Letterboxd #7: Cinemonster.

Hooptober’s head honcho opens up to Jack Moulton about his love for Texas-born horror director Tobe Hooper, the joys of running Letterboxd’s most beloved Hallowe’en community challenge, and the “terrifying, magical” experience of seeing Frankenstein at the age of four.

“You can’t spell October without Tobe.” —Cinemonster

Cinemonster, known to his family and friends as David Hood, is a restaurateur in Pittsburgh by day, and the head honcho of Hooptober by night. Now in its seventh year, the horror film challenge sees participants set their own 31-day viewing agenda of 31 films, curated according to a list of criteria set by its creator.

‘The Texas Chain Saw Massacre’ (1974), directed by Tobe Hooper.

With over 5,000 films logged on Letterboxd and a growing collection of posters, DVDs, Blu-rays, laser discs and film memorabilia, Cinemonster is a literal monster of cinema. He has created more than 500 lists, including a ton of year, director, actor, actress, franchise and memoriam lists.

What brought you to Letterboxd? I found Letterboxd while I was doing a Google search for a horror film that I had forgotten the name of. I ran into a list that Hollie Horror had made and wound up starting a profile and it went from there. That would have been a little over seven years ago.

How freakin’ cool is last year’s Hallowe’en Easter egg with the dripping blood from our logo? [Pro members get this added to their pages by mentioning #horror in their bio.] I’m a fan.

Unfortunately I haven’t heard of a single one of your four profile favorites! What’s urging you to highlight these films? They are just lesser-seen and have something good or great about them. Eyeball is a great little underseen Umberto Lenzi film. Death Machines is an awkward, weird and wonderful film with kung fu and blood. Massacre at Central High is one of my favorite films and sadly lacking a disc release of any kind—anyone who has seen Heathers will recognize a couple of things if they watch it. Rituals is a criminally underseen stalked in the woods film from the ’70s.

In this this list description, you explain how the original Frankenstein (1931) hooked you into horror at four years old. Can you describe what you most remember about that life-changing experience? It was both magical and terrifying. The space, the creature, the little girl. I had trouble sleeping for weeks afterwards. No matter where I am in the world, if there is a screening of Frank, I’ll go. I watched most of the major universals by the time I was six or seven. I saw Alien and Jaws 2 with my folks and those stuck with me. Cable and a local UHF station showing Hammer films on Saturdays are what really allowed me to get sucked in.

‘Frankenstein’ (1931), directed by James Whale.

The horror films of 1980 and 1981 were the most impactful and are the ones that mean the most to me to this day; Fade to Black, Night School, Motel Hell, The Fog, Alligator, Altered States, Terror Train, Death Ship, Scanners, An American Werewolf in London, The Howling, The Funhouse, Dead & Buried, Hell Night, Wolfen, Ghost Story, The Pit and Evilspeak. I saw all of them five to ten-plus times on cable as a kid. They’re still all high on my list. I am glad that Fade to Black is on Shudder. People need to watch it. More relevant now than then.

What exactly provoked you to start Hooptober seven years ago? I moved into an old spooky house and had a backlog of Blu-rays to watch and the 4K of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was about to come out. I’d done some interactive stuff on Letterboxd previously and had a decent amount of people involved. I was also at a point in my life where 31 films in 31 days is tough, as it is for a lot of us now. So I thought ‘Why don’t I do something that starts a little early, clears some of my list out, and has some parameters that don’t feel like I am handing out an assignment?’ I grew up in Texas, Tobe [Hooper] is close to my heart, and with all the Hooper I owned and the 4K coming out, I decided to christen it with his name. You can’t spell October without Tobe.

What’s the most members that have participated in a Hooptober? The number of people who participated was a little more than I expected, but that wasn’t what I was surprised by. I never thought of it as a recurring event until I started to hear from people the following summer about ‘the next one’. I just kinda chuckled after about a dozen people had asked and I said out loud to no one, “I guess I’m doing another one of these”. We are well over 700 this year, and still climbing.

‘Fade to Black’ (1980), directed by Vernon Zimmerman.

Where do you get the ideas for the rules for films to consider watching? At this point, I look back at past years so that I don’t repeat myself. I look to the current year for inspiration. Is there a film from a sub-genre that was prominent? Was it a strong year for output from women, Mexico, Asia, Black filmmakers, something cultural, and so on? I may focus on effects creators, an actor or writer on a whim. I try to keep an eye out for blind spots I haven’t covered. Shudder, archive.org, the big streamers are all resources. Sadly, rarefilmm no longer exists.

In last year’s interview with Merry-Go-Round magazine, you mentioned plans to turn Hooptober into a film festival. How’s that going? In a post-pandemic world, how can we keep independent niche film festivals thriving? The world has not been agreeable, obviously. I’m not even sure how viable something like that will be next year. I’ve been taking a look at streaming options. Post-pandemic will require more creativity and outside-the-box thinking, and will probably continue to feed some drive-ins. Been a while since more than a handful of people wanted to put money into a drive-in, which is nice to see.

I’m going to do a tweet along to The Witch Who Came From the Sea in October, and I’ll give you an exclusive here: The George Romero Foundation and I are doing online Horror Trivia on October 11. I had been doing it live with them here in Pittsburgh until the pandemic.

Based on this year’s rules and conditions, if there was one essential you-can’t-miss film you could force all your participants to add to their challenge, which film would it be? Demons, Eve’s Bayou or The Witch Who Came From the Sea.

‘The Witch Who Came from the Sea’ (1976), directed by Matt Cimber.

What have been your own greatest film discoveries through your Hooptober adventures? A Tale of Two Sisters, I Drink Your Blood, Blood Diner, and though it is a bit of a cheat to list this one, The Amusement Park. It’s cheating because it didn’t exist as something that I or anyone else could have watched, prior to when I saw it.

Do you have any acclaimed horror movies still lingering in your list of shame? Eyes Without a Face, Upgrade, Cure and Scream 4.

Have you ever completed one of your own Hooptober challenges yet? Errrrrrrrrr, one. I’m on track this year.

What about the participants over the years—any Letterboxd friends you’ve made who would you like to give a shout-out to? Aaron, Sarah Jane and Chris Duck are people that I talk to outside of Letterboxd. There have been a few others over the years. Slappy McGee has helped me with Hooptober the last two years. They are great. Javo and David Lawrence are pretty great, too.

Before Hooptober, many of your lists invited discussion with your followers. In what ways is Letterboxd the ideal forum to foster a community of film fans? Fans exercise their fandom in so many ways. The platform is so flexible that it allows you to utilize it in a small and personal way, in a promotional way, or to dive into the community pool and see who’s out there that shares something with you or can show you something. The more people that we are exposed to and listen to, we are all the better for.

Which of your review—from any genre—are you proudest of? The Invisible Man or The Hustler, probably. I have a capsule of Hud that I like.

So, you’re the horror guy. Nobody is denying that. You are Cinemonster, after all. But when I look at your top movies list and see that Singin’ in the Rain is your all-time number one, I’ll need you to explain yourself. I go back and forth between that and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. They are 1A and 1B in some order. Singin’ in the Rain is a perfect film and the studio system at its best. I will ignore your implied insult. ;)

‘Fear of a Black Hat’ (1993), directed by Rusty Cundieff.

It’s true, even a horror aficionado needs some levity in their life. What other comedies pick you up from a dark place? Fear of a Black Hat always does the trick. Same with The Awful Truth, Murder by Death, Hollywood Shuffle, Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, Blazing Saddles, Monty Python and the Holy Grail and Black Dynamite.

Who has been keeping you company during this tough year? I have watched thirteen Spike Lee films so far this year. I’ve taken a break the last few months, but I’ll probably knock out five or six more. With the exception of 25th Hour, everything is a revisit. It’s been a joy to go back through everything. Crooklyn is much stronger than I remembered, and Bamboozled just gets better and more impactful as time passes. I have loved Spike since the day I saw School Daze. His films have always connected with things that are important to me and to those that have been around me. Lee is still grossly under-appreciated as a narrative film director and a documentarian.

We’re bowing down to your epic Blu-ray and DVD collection. Which ones are your most prized possessions? Make us jealous. I have an Anchor Bay DVD of Dawn of the Dead signed by the cast and George A. Romero, a steelbook of Battle Royale, the first Slumber Party Massacre set before they had to reprint the box, the original Star Wars trilogy on Blu. I’m sure there are things I’m not thinking of. I have a lot of out-of-print and laser-only stuff. I’ll never get rid of my Holy Grail, Ghostbusters and Akira Criterion laser discs.

A selection of Cinemonster’s signed memorabilia.

I have a copy of Painting with Light signed by John Alton, John Waters and Steven Soderbergh I’ll send you a picture of. I used to collect movie posters, and I have the original Revenge of the Jedi one-sheet and the Drew Struzan Squirm poster. I do love those.

From your top directors list, let’s put one horror director on a pedestal. Who does the genre better than anyone else and why? George. They’re always topical, intelligent, thoughtful, personal and sometimes prescient. At their best they hold up both a mirror and a crystal ball. He was writing found-footage scripts in the early 70s, for god’s sake. Tobe is grossly under-appreciated. James Whale and Mario Bava could scare you in so many ways.

So, thinking beyond Ari Aster, Robert Eggers and Jordan Peele, which up-and-coming horror directors are you most excited about? Issa López, Gigi Saúl Guerrero, Benson and Moorhead, Shinichiro Ueda, Na Hong-jin, Julia Ducournau, Nia DaCosta, Jeremy Gardner and Leigh Whannell.

The 2010s were a great decade for horror. We have more money on-screen, moving away from the low-budget films of the 2000s. Which favorite horror film of the last decade inspired you the most? Get Out. What Jordan did for generations to come is unmatched in this century.

Chucky from ‘Child’s Play’ (1988).

Which probably-too-long horror franchise gets too much flak and is top-to-bottom a great time? Child’s Play. Chucky has always been treated generally as second tier. [That franchise] has tried a lot of interesting and out-there things during its lifespan that had no business working, but did.

I know it’s been a slow year but you haven’t logged many 2020 movies yet! Which is your most anticipated horror movie of 2020 or 2021? Peninsula, for sure; I love Train to Busan. Then Candyman, The Dark and the Wicked, Grizzly II: Revenge, Bad Hair, #Alive, After Midnight, The Platform, Bulbbul, Underwater, Shirley and Swallow.

Interview by Jack Moulton. Follow Jack on Letterboxd.

#letterboxd #how i letterboxd #cinemonster #el cinemonster #elcinemonster #horror #horror films #horror genre #tobe hoooper #tobe hooper #hooptober #hoop-tober #halloween #halloween films #halloween challenge #letterboxd challenge

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stebeans · 4 years

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She-Ra Inspired Actor AU - III

Maya Sanchez as Catra

Taylor Cruz as Adora

Jessica Cho as Glimmer

Marcus Patterson as Bow

A She-ra Actor AU fic where She-ra and the Princesses of Power is a popular tv series and our lovable characters are played by actresses/actors. Inspired by the amazing fanart and concept by @sunzho and @hey_adora on instagram #cayaactorau, see link below and please follow them!

https://www.instagram.com/explore/tags/cayaactorau/

The Call/Cast Meet

The call that had changed her life had come months ago and even now it hadn’t really sunk in. Maya’s agent, a family friend, had called her with the good news just a few days after Maya’s graduation. She had been at the park, playing with her brothers and the neighboring kids in a game of pick-up baseball, if you could even call it that as it was pretty much a no-rules, all-out game of America’s favorite sport. Remi – Maya’s brother and the youngest of the boys – was catcher and a no-good cheat, who kept poking her in the side every time she went up to bat knowing full well she was ticklish.

Maya had managed to hit what looked to be an infield home run and had been rounding third base and was sprinting to home when her second oldest brother, Rafael, playing pitcher had caught her around the waist. Being much taller and stronger than Maya, Rafael had easily lifted her off the ground and held on tight, laughing loudly in her ear as she tried to squirm out of his hold. “Let me go Raf! You asshole!” she screeched, slapping her brother in the arms and back but Rafael had held on until the shortstop had fired the ball into Remi’s awaiting glove. “You guys suck. So much.” Maya snapped, pulling Rafael’s cap over his eyes when he had finally set her back down on the ground. “You’re so lucky I didn’t kick you where the sun don’t shine.” She hissed, ignoring the way her brothers celebrated the win with their obnoxious dance and their chanting of “Maya’s a sore loser! Maya’s a sore loser!”

Sulking grumpily, Maya had made her way to the bench where she had left her stuff. She had just finished gulping down what was left of her water bottle when her cellphone rang. Digging into the outer pocket of her backpack for her phone, and immediately her heart beat faster when she had caught the caller ID. She had auditioned for a variety of roles leading up to graduation after the epic fail of the She-ra callback. A few had been minor roles for TV, one was for a background character for a movie, but mostly they were commercial roles. Distantly, Maya wondered if she landed that shampoo commercial gig. The casting director had been kind and had even praised her for her natural, long and luscious hair. “Hello? Serena?” Maya answered, wiping the sweat away from her forehead with the back of her hand and hoping she didn’t sound too out of breath from her game.

“You got the part kiddo!” Serena had practically shrieked into her ear, forgoing the typical phone etiquette greeting.

The celebration on the field faded away at Serena’s words. “What?” Maya had landed a few minor commercial roles before but Serena hadn’t even delivered the news with half the excitement as she was now.

“Maya! You got the part!” Serena cheered. “You’re going to be in She-ra!”

“What?” Maya was stunned. “No way! Are you kidding me right now? Did Raf and Remi put you up to this?” Because there was no way in hell did Maya ever imagine landing the lead role in a TV series.

Dazedly, Maya noticed the curious looks her brothers shot her when they caught their names being said. “No Maya! It’s not a joke! You got it kid! You got it.” Serena asserted. “You got the part of Catra!”

Catra.

Not Adora than.

Catra may not have been the lead character but still. Catra was a significant role and was infinite better than any of her previous roles combined. Shock and disbelief was fading faster as excitement began to take over. “I got Catra?” Maya whispered delicately. “I’m Catra?” She repeated..

Maya could see the concerned looks her brothers gave her and were quickly trekking towards her. Serena laughed happily on the other end of the phone and Maya was guessing she might’ve been crying a little bit too. Happy tears though. Kind of like the ones gathering behind her eyes now. “Yes.” Serena affirmed behind a quiet sniffle. “You’re Catra.”

“Maya what’s wrong?” Remi asked worriedly as her brothers approached her.

Unable to form words, Maya shook her head and wiped at her tears. “Did someone hurt you?” Remi asked. “Who was it? I’ll quick their ass!”

At the threat Maya laughed behind a half sob-half hiccup. “No! No. It’s nothing like that. It’s Serena.”

At the information both Remi and Raf froze. their eyes scanning the happiness behind their baby sister’s eyes despite the tears and the smile that was tugging on her lips. “Aaaannnddd?” Rafael pressed, anxiety for his sister crawling underneath his skin.

“I got the part.” Maya replied faintly. “I got the part.” She said a little louder. “I’m going to be in She-ra!” She shouted in excitement, lifting her arms in victory.

There was barely a delay before Remi and Rafael whooped and hollered louder than they had when they won the baseball game. Remi had messed up her hair as he shouted out his congratulations but Maya was too happy to care and when Rafael had picked her up and spun her around the second time that day within the span of minutes, instead of kicking him in the nuts like she wanted to do the first time, Maya laughed and cheered. “I’m going to be in She-ra!”

“Yeah you are!” Rafael hollered.

“Ma-ya! Ma-ya!” Remi chanted, Rafael joining in quickly.

The chanting had caught the attention from the players on either teams and it only took one glance to notice the happiness and excitement emitting from the trio of siblings. It was contagious and it didn’t take long for the others to join in on the chanting as they gathered around the Sanchez’s. News spread quickly between the teams and soon they were all celebrating in Maya’s achievement to her delight and slight embarrassment. During all the commotion Maya had dropped her phone but somehow the call with Serena was set on speaker because Maya could hear her tinny voice chanting along with the others.

These were people who she had grown up with. Neighbors who hosted and attended their summer BBQ’s. Friends and classmates who played pick-up games with her. Kids who she helped babysat. Others who had babysat her. They were a small yet tight-knit community and Maya was happy she was able to share the news with people who cared for her and vice-versa.

“I’m going to be Catra!” She shouted to the darkening sky, now lifted on her brother’s broad shoulder and a wave a cheers followed her exclamation, echoing throughout the field.

That call had been months ago but Maya could recall it as if it was yesterday and it was easily one of the best days of her life. Today, was a different story. Today might just take the cake for being the most anxiety-filled day she had ever experienced. It was infinitely more stressful than any of her past auditions and all those first days of school she had endured.

Her mother had dropped her off with a kiss on her forehead and a genuine “have a good day” at the gates of the studio where the security had been strict. With her bag slung over her shoulder she was quickly directed to one of those golf carts where one of the assistants would courier her to where the cast was meeting for the first time for a table read. Approaching the cart she noticed she wasn’t the only one getting a lift. A short Asian girl, with the coolest rose gold ombre colored hair that Maya had ever seen, sat in the back with her eyes glued to the phone in her hands. She didn’t even seem to notice when Maya approached, taking a seat next to her. “Hi.” Maya greeted shyly, anything to break the awkward silence.

The intimidating girl spared her a quick glance before turning attention back to her phone, scrolling through what Maya guessed was Twitter. “Hey.” Was her blasé reply.

Well. Can’t say she didn’t try. Maya drummed her fingers against the jean-clad thigh, taking the time to take in the scenery around her. DreamFlix wasn’t one of the bigger film production companies but they were certainly gaining popularity in their recent years and their studio lot was the bigger and grander than any lot she had ever stepped foot in. The golf cart weaved past various bodies, buildings, onsite sets and Maya couldn’t help but be amazed. One of the sets they drove past had a hose mounted to a crane where they were testing a rain pour. So. Cool. Her face must’ve betrayed her dorkiness because “First time?”

Maya rushed to close her slacked jaw. Grinning she shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve never been to a studio this big before. It’s amazing. Magical.” Maya added when they passed a group of people dressed up as mystical creatures.

The girl beside her let out a chuckle. “Yeah. It is pretty magical.” She agreed before holding out a hand. “But the novelty kind of wears off when your running late and you’re stuck behind a stampede of trolls and hooved centaurs. I’m Jessica by the way but everyone calls me Jess.”

“Maya.” Maya introduced with a warm smile, taking the offered hand with a gentle shake. “I’m guessing this isn’t your first time here then?”

“I’ve been doing this for a few years now and I had a couple small roles before. I’m mostly in the recording studio as the lead for an animation series but this is my first big gig on a live action series. So I guess I’m seeing things differently this time around.” Jess noted, pointing out where a few guys were heaving a wagon dolly carrying a ten-foot half-built mechanical dragon. “It’s pretty cool looking at everything with new eyes. Though I do know my way around the studio lot. Stick with me and I can show you were they hide all the cookies and the best place to throw a tantrum without anyone knowing.” Jess said with a laugh, her eyes crinkling at the edges and Maya couldn’t believe how she thought this girl was intimidating before.

Maya joined in on Jess’s joke. “Looks like I got myself a tour guide.”

The two of them made small talk, pointing out cool and unusual things from their vantage on the cart as they zipped past sets, giggling and laughing as if they were long lost friends before the they came to a stop in front of a non-descript brown building. It was smaller than the others they had passed but Maya guessed nothing fancy was needed for a table read. After jumping out of her seat, Maya smoothed down her grey oversized t-shirt, making sure it was tucked neatly into her black jeans at the front. She ran a hand through her hair, making sure there were no knots and breathing out a big sigh when she followed Jess to where the cast and crew were gathered.

Just before the assistant can knock on the door and leave them to fend for themselves, Jess reached out and gave a Maya’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry too much. You’ve already gotten the part. You’re going to have to screw up big time to lose your role and something tells me you aren’t the diva type. So just go in there and have fun okay? Today is about meeting the cast members and the production team. Then we’re just going to do a little reading. No big deal right?”

“Right.” Maya nodded, shooting Jess an appreciative smile though she could feel her hands trembling slightly.

The door opened and Maya was ushered in, noting that the room was already filled. She hoped she wasn’t running late. The director, casting director and the producer were easy to pick out as they smiled at their entrance. “Welcome Jessica and Maya. So glad you could make it to today’s table read. We are very excited to have you on our team.” The producer said, smiling kindly while shaking their hands. “Looks like we are just waiting on our star and then we could get this party started but why don’t you ladies help yourself to some refreshments in the meanwhile.”

A fold up table topped with snacks and drinks was set up at the far end of the room while the middle was occupied by a conference table with chairs set up on all sides. It looked barely enough to sit the amount of people in the room. There were maybe thirty people in the room already – and easily this was the largest cast meet Maya ever attended – who were huddled in small groups around the snack table and at the front of the room where it was left open.

Helping herself to a water bottle and some chips Maya took the chance to survey the occupants in the room and was honestly surprised at the diversity of the cast and crew. A good chunk of them were women and of various skin colors too. Am I in the twilight zone or what? This is so amazing. Maya thought, happy to know that she wasn’t going to be one of those “token” characters again. This was already shaping up to be a good show.

It was when Maya had a mouthful of chips did one of the rare guys in the group approached her and Jess. “Hi! I’m Marcus!” He introduced, a cute dimple appearing when he smiled and wow, did he have the nicest set of teeth and softest looking skin ever.

Like the majority of the cast, Marcus was a person of colour, he might actually be the darkest skinned person there, with a hipster afro buzzcut, broad shoulders and a muscular physique that even Maya could appreciate. “How cool is this?” Marcus continued as he stared wide-eyed around the room. “I’ve never been on a show with this much diversity!”

Maya nearly choked on her chips when she laughed earning a concerned look from Marcus and Jess as well as a couple others around her. Thumping her chest, Maya had to practically force the water down her throat. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to laugh. It was just…I was thinking the exact same thing!”

Marcus laughed, patting her on the shoulder. “Well what do you know, great minds do think alike. Or maybe it’s because of our instant connection.” He joked, wagging his eyebrows up and down in exaggeration.

“Okay Romeo, that’s enough.” Jess rolled her eyes before introducing herself and Maya.

Marcus chuckled good naturedly and shook their hands. They fell into a comfortable conversation, talking about their last gigs and past horror stories they had endured and Maya earning baby-cooing noises when she mentioned how she graduated high school before the summer officially started.

“Aww you’re just a baby!” Jess tutted and Marcus busted out laughing.

Pouting and knowing full well it didn’t help out her case, Maya whined out “I am not a baby! And look!” Maya pointed to a nearby cast member. “That girl is like…twelve!” Said girl whirled around to level a death glare at Maya who stammered out a “ But like also, good for her! Very, very impressive.” Which only set off Jess and Marcus again, with the latter legitimately having to wipe tears from his eyes he was laughing so hard.

“That little girl is Mei Lin and she is probably the greatest child star in the business right now. She isn’t just a baby. She is The baby.” Marcus explained through his bout of laughter.

Maya shook her head. “Fine. Whatever. I’m still not a baby.” She grumbled under her breath as she raised her bottle up to her lips to take a long pull of water only to have it come spluttering back out when she instantly recognized the newest addition stepping past the door threshold.

Coughing and gasping, Maya did her best to wave off Jess’ and Marcus’ concern as she tried to breathe through her choking. Way to be subtle, Sanchez. “Dude! Are you okay?” Marcus inquired, patting her firmly on the back. “Even I know babies don’t choke half as much as you do.”

Blinking back the tears in her eyes from the burning in her nose Maya offered a flimsy thumbs up. “Sorry. Just...wrong pipe. I’m fine.” She lied, cursing inwardly at the look of alarm she was garnering from the majority of the room seeing it was hard to ignore someone who was choking to death.

She met Taylor’s surprised eyes from across the room. “Just peachy.”

#she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #catradora #catra #adora #Maya (plays Catra) is a nerd #Taylor (plays Adora) is a big grump #live action au #myfic #also posted on ao3

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harry-lloyd · 4 years

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In many ways, the horrible wig was the best thing to happen to Harry Lloyd.

The shock of platinum blonde hair, slashed to a sensible bob at his shoulders like a high-fashion Legolas, was the coif that tied Lloyd’s indelible, insufferable Game of Thrones character together: Viserys Targaryen, the petulant narcissist whose play for the Iron Throne melts along with the rest of him under a pot of molten metal poured over his head, one of the show’s first and most iconic gruesome death scenes.

The splashy HBO production was the biggest job the young actor had ever landed, and as a character with an unmistakable, unforgettable look, to boot— the better to sear into TV fans’ consciousness.

Blessedly, that unmistakable, unforgettable look in no way actually resembled him, a then-27-year-old rising star with short, dark brown hair and alabaster complexion. He played one of the most memorable characters in recent TV history on possibly the last truly massive global TV phenomenon, yet, by the grace of a wig, he was still unrecognizable.

“I kind of loved that,” Lloyd tells The Daily Beast over Zoom from the loft study in his North London home. “And I kind of loved that he died. He had this lovely arc, and he still has his place in this enormous and infamous canon.”

Given how vivid that arc is in Thrones lore, it’s almost startling to remember that he was only on five episodes of the show.

“I had my go,” he says. “I got in early and I got out early. And he didn’t look like me, which, number one, is good because he is a little shit. And so I was happy to not have people throwing stuff at me in the streets. But number two, and I didn’t notice at the time, but it has since become the biggest show on TV. It doesn’t make me worry about being typecast so much.”

In the years since becoming a scalded puddle of boiling jewels and flesh, Lloyd has been able to shapeshift through an impressive résumé of prestige TV series and award-nominated films—Manhattan, Wolf Hall, Counterpart, Legion, The Theory of Everything—relieved of the kind of limitations actors who play little shits in garish white wigs on TV’s biggest show typically shoulder.

The occasion for our conversation is yet another transformation, as Bernard Marx in Brave New World, the splashy adaptation of Aldous Huxley’s 1932 dystopian sci-fi novel. The series is the marquee original offering for Wednesday’s launch of the new Peacock streaming service, casting Downton Abbey alum Jessica Brown Findlay and Han Solo himself, Alden Ehrenreich, alongside Lloyd in an updated take on the classic work.

Brave New World thwarts the idea of a restrictive, Orwellian dystopia with one in which society is instead forced into surrendering their inhibitions. “Welcome to New London,” a prologue explains. “We have three rules. No privacy. No family. No monogamy. Everyone is very happy.”

The new series boasts modernized flourishes when it comes to style—if there had been this much sex in Huxley’s book, we would have paid far more attention to it in high school—and sensibility; some of the problematically racist and misogynistic themes and plot points have been corrected.

Lloyd’s Bernard is an upper echelon member of society, called an Alpha-Plus, whose job is to maintain social order. Throughout the series, he experiences a crisis of conscience, an existential awakening at odds with the blissful stasis he’s meant to both control and enjoy.

If a narrow escape from typecasting and a career playing snooty, megalomaniacal manchildren has meant a diverse array of opportunity for Lloyd, then Brave New World marks more new territory: It’s his first outright leading role.

Lloyd had never read Huxley’s book before being cast, but was impressed by the ambition of the script, “almost like a mega tentpole movie in scale” but esoteric and satirical at the same time. “I was like, this has the whole package if they can shoot this, but I don’t think they can.”

It took one day on set for him to catch wise to the technical prowess at play. “I was like, wow, this really is a brave new world,” he says.

Don’t worry. He promptly scoffed at himself and rolled his eyes.

It is one of the best opening lines to a profile that I’ve read, from a 2011 feature on Lloyd that ran in Britain’s The Independent: “There was a time when Harry Lloyd worried that he was forever going to be typecast—as a woman.”

It was in reference to Lloyd’s days as a student at Eton College, where the young teen’s voice had not yet broken and he was cast as women in a slew of all-male Shakespeare productions.

Here we were prepping to engage with Lloyd about the perils of typecasting following his Thrones stint, ignorant of the fact that he had already confronted the issue decades earlier.

Lloyd laughs good-naturedly when the era of fake bras and bonnets is brought up.

“I hated it,” he says. Just when he had vowed never to agree to it again, in his last year at school he was asked to play Rosalind in As You Like It, by all counts a fantastic leading part. He nailed it, and earned raves. “At an all-boys boarding school, it took balls to put on tights, as it was.” A perfectly-earned smirk at his own joke follows.

The truth is that being typecast or pigeon-holed is a stressor that followed Lloyd, who grew up in London with parents who worked in the book industry. “Sometimes it’s just the face you have at a certain age…” he says.

His first major role came at age 15 in the BBC’s 1999 adaptation of David Copperfield, opposite Daniel Radcliffe. (Adding another fascinating layer to the trivia: Lloyd himself is the great-great-great grandson of Charles Dickens.) One of his first jobs after that was playing a bullying prefect in the series Goodbye, Mr. Chips.

“I guess that’s what I looked like, and I did that a couple of times,” he says. “Then I was like, I don’t really want to just be that guy. He’s a bit of a dick. And then I think next up I played the murderer in some procedural police thing, some young kid that’s gone sideways.”

Each time he felt a box starting to close its sides around him, he actively sought out something different. Having Great Expectations, in which he played Herbert Pocket, “the loveliest, most benign chap you’d ever meet,” air months after his Thrones debut was key. But he can’t refute that, with or without a platinum wig, there’s something about the way he looks that telegraphs a certain kind of sinister character.

“If I turn up in a murder thing, it’s often me who’s done it,” he says, grinning. “I don’t want to give anything away from the stuff I’ve been in. But I don’t know, there’s something about my face that is like, ‘He could do it.’”

After he had finished filming his part on Thrones and the series was about to come out, he was cast in the buzzy West End production of the Tony-winning play The Little Dog Laughed.

If you’re familiar with the work, a satire about Hollywood illusion (and delusion) in which an acerbic, big-wig agent crisis manages her rising-star client’s pesky “recurring case of homosexuality,” you understand why it’s a fairly hilarious, if sobering, project to be involved in just as an actor’s own fame and industry profile is about to skyrocket.

“Because I was about to be on Game of Thrones, I thought, this is the time for me to get an American agent,” he recalls. “And so the American agents, when they were in London, would come and see me in this play, which basically looks at agenting and their ways with quite a big, angry magnifying glass. They would come backstage and say, ‘Look, I am not like that…’” He laughs. “It was always quite a funny way to start the proceedings.”

Having starred in episodes of Dr. Who and played Charles Xavier in Legion, not to mention his connection to Thrones, Lloyd has had his taste of the particular brand of rabid, Comic-Con fandom. Though he prefers to classify himself as “adjacent-adjacent” to that world.

While there are certainly those who will know right away that he was a Targaryen, what he gets more of is a “Wait, how do I know you?” awkward conversation. “Genuinely, people are like, ‘Hey, did I go to school with you?’ I’m at that level of renown. You can’t quite place why you might recognize me.”

Asked how life under the coronavirus shutdown has been, Lloyd is very British about the months spent with his wife and their almost-2-year-old. “We’ve done alright,” he says. “We learned how to finally kind of plan our fridge. And now we know how to do our shopping tactically. We cooked some good stuff.”

For fear of sounding “solipsistic,” to use a word employed often in Brave New World, he identifies the extended time home with typical feelings actors have throughout their career.

“You have accelerated times in your life when things happen like a dream,” he says. “Things are so fast and our whole world’s rebuilt entirely every time you get a job. And then is the come-down and the fallout.”

He remembers that feeling from when he was doing plays: the energy and pace of putting on the show, and then a few weeks after it ends there’s a massive crash.

“It feels a bit like you’re in lockdown. You stare around on a Tuesday afternoon. You don’t want to watch anything. You don’t know what to do or who to call, and you kind of lose your style. There’s been a bit of that.”

Just when things got to the point that he felt like he might lose his mind, he was contracted to record an audiobook. So for a couple of days a week, he would sit up in his “sweatbox made out of duvets” and read Great Expectations aloud for Penguin. “That saved me for sure.”

On the subject of works by his great-great-great grandfather, Lloyd used to be at a loss for what to do when people brought it up. Often they would say, “Congratulations!” on the relation, as if he had accomplished something himself by being born into Charles Dickens’ lineage. “But these days, I’ll take it, I’ve decided. ‘Yeah, thank you so much.’ It’s a nice thing to celebrate.”

The 150th anniversary of Dickens’ death was in June. There had been plans for a commemoration ceremony at Westminster Abbey that, because of the shutdown, became a Zoom event instead.

“I don’t know how many people’s deaths get a 150th anniversary,” he says. “The fact that I have any kind of personal connection with that is very much secondary. But something that I’m very proud of.”

At risk of belaboring the point, we ask if working on any of the Dickens adaptations he’s starred in on TV or recording this audiobook makes Lloyd feel any sort of profound or poignant connection to him.

He laughs. “I can’t point to a physical sensation like hairs in the back of my neck standing. ‘I feel him. It’s me and Chucky D in the room right now.’”

#harry lloyd #interview

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grisdidthis · 4 years

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CHAPTER ONE: FIRST SIGHT

AKA, blessed fucknuggets, why do these fools feel the need to put themselves through high school, my sources tell me that the US school system isn’t all that to begin with, what gives?

PREVIOUS ENTRIES

(Warning: this got long. Looooong. Hence, cut, so that I don’t murder your dash like Edward doesn’t murder Bella in this chapter.)

Welcome to the first entry of a live-read that no one asked for, in which I’ll go through the first chapter of Midnight Sun, i.e. a retelling of the first Twilight book from Edward Cullen’s POV. Not to be confused with Grey, a retelling of the first volume of a Twilight fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, or the Life and Death edition, a retelling of the first Twilight book in which Bella Swan is genderbent into a dude called Beau, who utters the immortal line “I knew I must look like a gorilla on a greyhound.” Which still tickles my humerus to this day.

I’ve waited for this novel to drop so long that at some point I’d stopped waiting. If by some freaky turn of chance you stumbled on this without knowing about the hoopla surrounding the publication, here’s a Wikipedia link. The gist is that the first few chapters of the WIP got leaked, the author got upset, the book got shelved until ??? and no further information about it was forthcoming until a while ago, when out of the blue arrive the news that it’s getting released in August.

My first thought was “Oh, yay, something actually NICE is happening this year!”

My second thought was “Please let it be good, so that I can laugh outrageously at [name redacted] for mocking my enjoyment of this series!” And. Look. I know what’s said about Twilight with regards to its literary merit and Stephenie Meyer’s abilities as a writer. A lot of it is admittedly accurate. However, the metrics by which I measure the value of a book are a) did it entertain me? and b) did I gain anything by having read it? And yeah, those are personal and subjective items, but objectivity is a lie, Jesus enjoys using toasters to take selfies, and if ten years ago I hadn’t been looking for a place to post my 50k+ epic Renesmee-centric fanfic, I wouldn’t have met the people who are currently my best friends.

Which is to say: I’m too attached to this series to give a fig what color the prose is. Deal.

And yet. Me hoping that Midnight Sun would be good, in a way that people who don’t have my level of emotional investment might acknowledge, wasn’t… that farfetched? Because the last book Meyer released before this one, The Chemist? Is an improvement on all her previous work. A huge improvement! It’s competently written! The characters read like they were intended to be flawed, messy people.

The main romance isn’t the kind of fucked up that Bella and Edward’s is, where you can pen treatises on why they’re omg so unhealthy. It’s the kind of fucked up where five seconds after meeting her love interest, the protagonist drugs him unconscious, kidnaps him, sticks a urinary catheter up his ding dong, straps him to a table and tortures him for information until the guy’s ex-CIA identical twin drops a plane on the barn they’re in and crashes through the ceiling all “HANDS OFF MY BABY BROTHER YOU DISCOUNT MATA HARI!”

Then they all make friends and go on a road trip together because a shady government organization is after them.

That’s not a fucked-up relationship that you write an essay analyzing the fucked-up-ness of. It’s something you stare at, stunned and, if you’re me, torn between thinking “Holy shit, this is so my brand of heroine!!!” and “How much crack was Auntie Steph on when she wrote this?” And it’s beautiful. I want ten more like it. So my hopes for Midnight Sun are tempered by the knowledge that, being a retelling of an established narrative, it can’t go all-out with the batshit. But I’m still optimistic that some part of it will give me that warm “Awww, you’ve come a long way from where we first met, author! Good on you!” feeling.

Now let’s (finally!) get started on the chapter proper.

…oh wait there’s an author’s note.

…uhm. Yeah. My dreams. About those. *fixed stare at faraway bonfire* Actually, let’s not talk about those and just move on to Edward Not Liking High School, thank you. Yeah. That’s good.

Edward Cullen doesn’t like high school. Edward doesn’t like that people think. Edward doesn’t like that the human student body is beside itself with the arrival of some new chick. Edward thinks his adopted siblings are super basic. (Rosalie = shallow, Emmett = simple, Jasper = psycho two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage.) We don’t get to hear his utterly unbiased assessment of Alice, because she butts in and starts a one-sided telepathic convo about how Jasper is two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage. You know. Normal sibling stuff.

WHY DO YOU PUT YOURSELF THROUGH THIS HASSLE, WHY!

(Let me take this opportunity to share my pet crack theory that Carlisle Cullen is secretly the most twisted, evil vampire in all of vampiredom, and that the sending the young ones to high school bit is something he does solely because he gets his evil fix by feasting on the emotional toil it inflicts on them. Also why he’s a doctor; he can ignore the call of blood, because being surrounded by the pain of patients and their loved ones already keeps him fed. I mean. He was chilling with the Volturi way back when, and Aro gives off a handsy vibe. No way he didn’t get his mind read in every which way, and if that happened - if he were reaaaalllyyyyy that nice, why would he still ping them as a threat of any kind?)

(This has holes in it, I know. And clashes with my other pet crack theory, which posits that the whole immortal child/Let’s Catch Them All: Cullen Edition was in fact the fallout of a Very Bad Italian Breakup, with Aro being the pissy ex who wants sole custody of the kids.)

Whatever. It still makes more sense than them going through “the inert state between active periods” when. My dudes! College is right there. Some places you can even sit out 90% of lectures and still get your diploma if you don’t feel like faking one, so Jasper would be all set! And you can pick different subjects! Diversify! Why must it always be med school rehashes, there are other worthy professions! And whole fields that are useless for getting-a-job purposes, but still interesting and enriching for those who have the luxury to pursue them. Let Emmett do Viking Studies, for fuck’s sake!

This amuses me much more than it rightfully should. I’m a child.

The Cullen clan tries to pep talk Jasper into not getting his murder on. Jasper is like OMG WILL YOU GUYS LAY OFF, while Edward is busy doing his judgy Edward thing and thinking to himself that Jasper should accept his limitations, that it’s a bad idea to have him at school at all, blah blah bleh, and you know what, I’m with you there, Ed.

Although we all know that this is just setup for the irony that will ensue as soon as Bella the Delicious klutzes her way into his line of smell.

Oh yah! Enter Bella. Edward can’t hear her thoughts. Jessica Stanley is a b-word. Edward wonders whether not being able to butt into the new girl’s head may be a red flag for vampire Alzheimer. Biology class next! The teacher is a man “of no more than average intellect” and, lord. It’s lucky that Edward is the mind reader in the family, because imagine if it were one of the others and they had to put up with listening to him bitch about the world at large, nonstop, at all hours of the day. And night, since these guys don’t sleep. Angela Webber is the only soul in the whole school whose thoughts have the Edward Cullen seal of approval. I feel sorry for her. I also feel this weird sense of hey, this all seems familiar in senses other than being a retelling, have I been here before?

Wait.

WAAAIIIIIITEEEEE.

*googles for the old version*

*runs first chapters through copyleaks*

*kubrick stare* MEYER, YOU LAZY SO AND SO, HOW COULD YOU!

*slams head on desk*

Well. At least I know what I’m in for. HONESTLY! It’s been. It’s been THIS MANY YEARS since the leaked version appeared, and that was a first draft, how in the… she’s way better than this, now! Was this novel produced in a terminal state of $#%CARING#NOT?&FOUND?! Is half of it just going to be the same old thing with a thin veneer of polish? I’m.

*sigh* You know what, I’m okay. We’re just going to call this first part a re-read. It’s been ten years, so I remember not a whole lot of the specifics, so at least I won’t be bored. BUT COME CHAPTER 13 I EXPECT TO BE SWEPT OFF MY FEET, DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Biology. Bella walks in right past a fan and gives Edward a throbbing throat boner. How awkward. Then she goes and sits right next to him and saucily tosses her hair around like he’s not actively plotting her murder and that of the rest of the class. The cheek of the thing!

Fortunately, Bella’s tasty ass is momentarily saved by a stiff breeze.

…I think we may have found the solution to Jasper’s control issues. The Cullens just need to start carrying air freshener around and spray the murder out of him every time he starts looking peckish. It would look weird if anyone else did it, but since they’re all pretty and rich, it’s more likely that the trend will catch on and cause Febreze sales to skyrocket.

Anyway. We’re not done victim-blaming Bella for…

…at least another couple of pages, but at least Edward gets his head out of his ass long enough to recall that hey, vampire! Oxygen is optional! But he still spends another lot of words grumbling about what a hassle it is to be forced to hold his breath in order to dampen his murderous urges. This is why you are a virgin, Edward. No, I don’t mean the planning the assassination a classmate’s assassination, plenty of serial killers still manage to get laid heaps, consensually, even! It’s the fact that you’re this much of a buzzkill that’s the issue.

Live, laugh, love, you dumbass disco ball!

Yep, he’s still on about how he’s going to kill her, totes kill her, he feral dangerous vampire, rawr. The miracle of adequate indoor airflow only got him to railroad a quartet of brain cells into thinking up smarter ways of snuffing Bella out. Now he wants to lure her to the forest. No, he’s going to kill her at home! He hates her! No, he hates himself and is projecting!

So he flees to his car, plays some calming music, breathes in and out and thinks about his family and how disappointed they’d be in him if he were to help himself to a Swan shake. Well, I’m nobody to shit talk anyone’s self-soothing routine. I’d probably throw in a truck of food + a bath, but he’s had 100+ years to figure out what coping mechanisms work for him, so let’s just let him do his-

Edward.

EDWARD.

…do you actually think this is an appropriate time to start a ginger-off with some random desk lady? Yes, we know you’re the One True Redhead To Rule Them All. (Though Kvothe from Name of the Wind may beg to differ, and I don’t know who would win that fight.) I mean, really? You pull this crap when you just barely talked yourself out of a murder? And then you call her eyes flat! What!

One of my favorite comic book series, Y the Last Man, features a scene where two characters discuss what it is that truly binds people together. One of them presents the argument that stronger bonds are formed not by shared love, but by shared hates. By which they mean not a kiss-kiss-slap-slap, enemies-to-lovers relationship dynamic, but like… you, being someone who really hates coleslaw, having a partner who likewise hates coleslaw, with whom you can indulge in tireless verbal roastings of coleslaw and who will never get tired of your complaining, because the fire of their loathing burns every bit as hot as yours.

I’ve always felt that this concept resonated with me deeply. And if you apply it to Bella and Edward, by its standards, they have the real deal. Go through the namesake chapter in Twilight-the-book, and you find Bella thinking similarly judgy thoughts, being irked by the same shit that no one normal would bat an eye to, going “Ugh!” and “Gah!” at everything that makes Edward wince internally. So their love will be eternal for sure. Perhaps not in an epic way. They’ll live boringly ever after, until they’re ancient and onion-skinned and lurking at passerby humans through the geraniums on their windowsill, exchanging “Holy crow, I can’t believe she bought a hydrogen engine car just to show off!” / “Awful! She should know that thinning the deer population so that they produce less flatulence is the most sound way of controlling toxic emissions!” And then probably gazing at one another like idiots for an ice age or two.

Edward wants to be moved out of Biology class. Goes back and forth with the desk lady, who obviously wants to tap that, because of course she does. Every hot-blooded woman within spitting distance must crave his alluring icicle, even as he mentally eviscerates every minuscule detail of their appearance.

Except Bella, because she’s soft, translucent, deep-eyed and edible. And, I mean. You can complain all you want about “you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever met, you’re SPECIAL, better, more beautiful, more everything!” being a dead horse of a trope so old and beaten that by all rights it should have turned to smelly glue, but. That pony is still kicking. And by kicking, I mean selling. And it sells because being made to feel special, even if it’s happening by proxy while you’re immersed into the thoughts of a fictional character, is nice. Readers enjoying that experience and seeking out fiction that provides it shouldn’t be considered so… mock-worthy as I’ve seen it be, in discussion of works that feature the trope prominently.

Which doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be nicer if Edward’s narration were focused solely on elevating Bella, instead of also viciously kicking down everyone in the vicinity. Man, we get the message, okay? You don’t need to act like you’ve swallowed a Simon Cowell before coming in for school.

I swear, it’s almost a relief when Bella interrupts, heralding the triumphant return of the throat boner. Edward’s thoughts about the people around him are actually LESS gratuitously bitchy when he’s contemplating how to best murder them.

At least this time he is able to extract himself from the situation and flee speedily. (Which… in Biology, what exactly was preventing him from asking for a bathroom break? Or just saying he was feeling poorly and getting the fuck out of there?)

He meets the sibs. Only Alice has any clue of what is going on because visions, and she doesn’t explain anything to the others, who just stand there baffled while Edward decides to get his shiny ass in his shiny Volvo and run off to Alaska. Probably because it would ruin the serious mood of the scene if she told them and Jasper started doing happy cartwheels at the prospect of no longer being the only fuckup in the family.

END CHAPTER. Same time tomorrow, hopefully, and I’ll TRY to be less longwinded. Try.

#TWILIGHT #MIDNIGHT SUN #EDWARD CULLEN #GRISREADSMS #MIDNIGHT SUN SPOILERS

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changeling-rin · 4 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering, what are your thoughts on the different Zelda games? Not a ranking or anything, just what did you like/dislike in each game/franchise as a whole? And how did you come up with the personalities of the characters for DL? Thank you!

Oof. Oh, you’re gonna make me Longpost, aren’t you. Yeah, okay. You asked for it.

Skyward Sword/Gen

-I both love, and hate, the motion controls. On one hand, I have never felt more epic than when I personally stabbed my sword into Demise’s head. On the other hand, I have never felt more frustrated when my wiimote would misinterpret my swings and I would subsequently die. Contrary to popular opinion, I actually like Fi. Her design is beautiful, her theme is gorgeous, and her goodbye to Link is one of the most beautiful yet heartbreaking moments in the entire franchise. The origin of the Master Sword, in my opinion, might be one of the best things to come out of this game.

Gen’s personality came about mainly as the foil to Lore and Dusk’s pre-existing dynamic. Lore is the spastic one, and while Dusk is definitely somewhat of the straight-man, he’s much more likely to roll with it unless it’s drastically damaging. Gen, on the other hand, will avidly apply common sense to anything and everything, and since Lore very rarely follows common sense, Gen morphed into his ‘conscience’, so to speak. His predilection for healing was a side-effect of me dying a lot in his game and spending more on Red Potion than probably anything else, and also because the group needed a medic and Gen was definitely the most take-charge character I had who would do that sort of thing.

Minish Cap/Speck

The Picori are the cutest things, oh my gosh. I do, however, suspect their violent and painful end in BotW - if they’re the ones who put the Rupees and Bombs and stuff in the grass, and there’s no such things in BotW… Aside from that! I adored the concept of shrinking down and having the entire environment change on you. It was such a unique way to make an old area new again. On the flipside, I loathed the Kinstone sidequest with a passion. I never did manage to match them all.

Speck was basically me saying to myself, ‘He’s a tiny person. How do tiny people see the world?’ And then he turned into a quiet, shy kid who tries very hard not to be a bother and looks at problems from a completely different angle than most people. This is why he always second guesses his words - he’s by far the most frequent user of ‘um’, ‘uh’, ‘ah’, ‘oh’, etc, and this is entirely on purpose. Tiny people, by nature, will do whatever it takes to make sure the bigger people don’t get mad enough to smush them - a bit morbid, I know, but if you think about it… This is also where his habit of stabbing the eardrum came from. Where most people wouldn’t even think of it, Speck just saw a really good access point and a whole lot of convenient fabric handholds to get him there.

Four Swords/The Four

I have actually never been able to get my hands on a copy of the original Four Swords game. I know. I’m a disgrace to the fandom. However, I have done extensive research, and I can say that by far my favorite concept is being able to deploy a Bow-Wow in the direction of my enemies. I literally cannot imagine it without cackling.

The Four were the result of me having two sets of Four Sword Heroes and desperately needing some way to tell them apart. It took a very long time for me to decide to play up the hive mind aspect, but once I did everything clicked for them. Rather than being split individual aspects of the original Link, the Four are literally a copy-paste of OG Link’s personality with only tiny variations between them, which led to the decision to make them somewhat quiet and awkward about their synchronization. People rarely accept what’s unfamiliar to them, and to be honest the Four probably have one of the more ‘tragic’ backstories. They may or may not have been chased out of a town or two due to a couple misunderstandings about the source of their hive mind. (My babies, I’m so sorry I did this to you I’m a terrible author whyyyyyyyy)

Ocarina of Time/Ocarina

By far, one of the most investing stories in a game. Ganondorf is fabulously evil, 10/10 would thwart again. Music, of course, is beautiful. The travel mechanic, on the other hand, I am not a fan of. Trying to get somewhere before getting the respective warping Song is tedious at best, and the sheer amount of time it takes for me to swap between Young and Adult Link is just… it’s a hassle, is what it is.

Ocarina is a little kid in a Big Person’s body, and I write him accordingly. He’s the wide-eyed boy in a brand-new world. He’s naive to a lot of things and oblivious to several others. He and Mask have a bit of an odd dynamic because of this - Ocarina will basically gravitate to wherever Mask is as a sort of unconscious instinct, under the unrealized assumption that Mask means protection. The ‘Little Brother’ mentality, if you will.

Majora’s Mask/Mask

THE MOON. THE FREAKING MOON. I will never be able to play this game without feeling vaguely stressed and unsettled the entire time and THAT FREAKING MOON is the reason why. Very compelling plot, 10/10, but WHY. Aside from that, the music is fantastic, Majora is Creepy To The Max and we so rarely get that in Zelda games so I am on board, the transformation masks are probably my favorite mechanic, and your heartstrings get yanked on several times with the Goron Lullaby quest and Mikau’s entire storyline.

Mask evolved directly as the opposite to Ocarina, with the caveat that he is directly aware of Ocarina’s unconscious ‘Little Brother’ mindset - Mask just happens to be sincerely uncomfortable with the ‘Big Brother’ role. He’s more knowledgable, more experienced, and this was done explicitly to be in direct contrast with the fact that he looks like a little kid. He’s Ocarina’s opposite in every single way, and it’s fun to have them play off each other.

Twilight Princess/Dusk

Probably my favorite game, art-style-wise. There’s some things that Twilight Princess does fantastically well artistically, not to mention that it contains one of my favorite characters of all time. Midna is awesome and there’s nothing that will convince me otherwise. I actually think the wolf mechanic is a really good way to make new problems within old areas - but I will admit, the bug hunts can be tedious. And that one escort mission can go jump off a cliff. But I adore everything about the concept of a Twilight Realm, and even though Ganondorf comes in and kinda shafts Zant out of the way, he’s fabulous enough that I can accept it. They are, after all, both marvelously evil.

Dusk’s personality came from me thinking back on everything that happens in his game and promptly deciding that: he either went a little insane to deal with it all, or he had the lowest level of crap to give that I’d ever seen. Obviously, I decided on the latter, and I’m very glad I did, because from there that allowed me to build the faux-duo-actually-triad leadership between him, Lore, and Gen that works so very well. I kinda ended up putting a little of myself into Dusk, in that he’s very reserved and will think about what he says before saying it. Of course, I had to incorporate the wolf somehow, and the way that was the most fun for me was to bring some of those traits over into his hylan form. One of these was me interpreting the howling mechanic as Dusk being a naturally good singer, and we all know where that led.

Four Swords Adventures/Red, Blue, Green, and Vio

The loss of the Bow-Wow hits me deeply, but we do get horses so that helps a little. Also, it surprised me a little how similar this game is to the predecessor, Four Swords. There’s a couple plot differences, Shadow Link is a thing, but for the most part it follows a very similar pattern and I kinda wish something different had been done. It’s fun having more than one weapon to swing around, but not quite as much without other people to play with. The one thing I have to say about Zelda multiplayer games is that, without actual multiple players, it’s just… not as fun.

I freely admit that large parts of Green, Vio, Red, and Blue’s personalities came directly from the FSA manga - particularly, the subversion of color expectations by having Red be the timid one and Blue be the aggressive one. You never see that nowadays, and I immediately pounced on it. Vio and Green had slightly less large chunks of manga personality, but I basically ripped their inner-group dynamic wholesale. Their individual interactions though, those are all me. Blue and Vio just seemed like natural bicker partners. Red’s Adorable Puppy face evolved out of the sheer amount of times the manga had him on the verge of, or shedding, actual tears. And Green naturally needed to be the exasperated leader keeping them all in line. It all just sorta flowed from there.

Link to the Past/Lore

The originator of such musical classics like Kakariko Village, the Dark World theme, and Zelda’s Lullaby, and I thank this game for making these songs so good. I adore the way that the Dark World can take the entire freaking country of Hyrule and turn it into something completely new. But there were some times where I wasn’t sure where to go? I don’t know if it was me or not, and it could have been. I might just be bad at inferring destinations.

Lore is the direct result of being the target of four entire games, and me thinking to myself, ‘Now how does a normal person deal with something like that?’ The answer was, of course, that they throw normality out a window. Lore is my way to have fun, and also to let out every random impulse I’ve ever had but never acted on. In a way, Lore is me, but without all the inhibitions. Sometimes he ends up being a direct conduit between my brain-thoughts and the page. That aside, I also gladly seized the opportunity to bring something different to the group, which is how the different languages came in. He’s the only Link who actively, within his games, visits other countries, and there was no way I could pass that up.

Oracle of Ages/Oracle of Seasons

They remind me of Pokemon titles. “Here’s these two games! With the exception of some minor details, they’re exactly the same! Combine them for a special surprise!” I do think the Subrosians are adorable though. And of course, shout-out to Veran, the only explicitly female villain the Zelda franchise has ever seen. Maybe someday you’ll get a friend to help you out in that testosterone-filled mess. Maybe someday.

Link’s Awakening

Far sadder than I anticipated it being. Also, the Bow-Wow returns! Clearly the best thing in the game. On the bad side - I don’t remember which one it was - there was this one dungeon that just… for the life of me I could not get it to make sense in my brain. I don’t know why. I also don’t remember what the solution was. Very engaging story though, the Windfish mystery kept me engaged right up to the Big Reveal.

A Link Between Worlds/Sketch

The painting mechanic is just. It’s so clever. The entire landscape is transformed with a single dimension shift and I loved it. I was kinda skeptical about the same map as LttP, but then Lorule happened and I was pleased enough with that to accept it. Ravio and Hilda are fine additions to the LoZ family and I wholeheartedly accept them - also, the Lorule Castle theme is one of the best songs in the franchise, fight me. One thing I do remember is this one boss battle, I think with some sort of Manhandla plant? It took me at least ten or so tries to get past that thing. Really didn’t enjoy that one.

Everything intentional about Sketch evolved from his painting ability, this being his phobia of water, his tendency to use stealth in a confrontation, and his continued sidetracking with artistic ideas. At some point though, he turned into one of the most sarcastic Links in the bunch, and I’m really not sure how it happened. But it seemed to fit him for whatever reason.

The Legend of Zelda/Realm

I regrettably have not been able to get my hands on this one either, but I have watched a play-though. My observations are as follows: Where is the map. How did anyone figure out where they were going in this game. I don’t understand how that wall was supposed to indicate it was bomb-able. How did people play this game without getting too frustrated to continue. On the bright side, the dungeons seemed to be very well-laid-out, and the bosses, while repetitive, were pretty memorable. I suspect I would get lost within the first ten minutes, though.

Realm is directly based off of my above observations. I am firmly of the opinion that absolutely nobody can make it through the original LoZ game without getting lost at least once, and this resulted in Realm’s absolutely abysmal sense of direction. Consequently, I made him hopelessly optimistic and cheerful enough to make the sun jealous, because the only person who could put up with those sorts of mishaps is the person who can just get right back up and keep going. Also, the fact that I myself and severely directionally challenged means that writing Realm comes very easily.

The Adventure of Link

I have not played this one either. I apologize. That said, I dislike the switch from top-down to 2-D scroller. In comparison with literally every other game in the franchise, AoL feels the least like a ‘Zelda’ title. Though, for the invention of Shadow Link, I award at least few points.

Wind Waker/Wind

It’s adorable. It’s somehow a very dark and serious game disguising everything behind a cute and cartoony art style and even though I can recognize it I don’t actually care. The story is engaging, Tetra is the Best Pirate, and the ocean makes it feel so big. I do think the sailing mechanic can be a bit time-consuming before the warp travel kicks in, and I actually feel like Ganondorf went down too easily, maybe?

Wind is based off of sailing, basically. I took the amount of time it takes him, in-game, to get places and decided that he has the patience of a saint. Also the bafflingly ability to stay awake for three days straight, but that hasn’t come up in DL, so. Because of this, he’s usually pretty content to let conversations evolve without much input from him, unless he’s got something important to say. And of course, he’s got the Wind Waker, which resulted in me making up an entire magical classification system to explain why he’s so good at controlling the weather, accompanied by an entire chapter-length head canon about the relation between the weather and music. Ironically enough, for all that Wind has no instrument of his own, the fact that he’s a conductor means he’s actually the most musically talented of the whole group.

Phantom Hourglass

I wouldn’t call it a worthy sequel to Wind Waker, but I honestly don’t think it’s too bad - with the exception of the Temple of the Ocean King. First time, it was kinda fun. Second time, less fun, Third time, getting repetitive. Fourth time, getting annoying. Fifth time, and I was really done with that mechanic. The remixed Sailing Theme was good though, and once I got past Linebeck’s surface personality I liked him pretty well too.

Spirit Tracks/Steam

I have never played this one, but the concept seems fun. The riding-a-train song is amazing. This Zelda is probably the most fleshed-out that the character has ever been, and I dearly hope she can take the position of ‘companion guide’ again someday. Or maybe even ‘protagonist’, who knows? I do dislike how vague Malladus is, because as the Final Bad Guy I feel like he should have been solidified more than just “Demon sealed a long time ago”. And to be honest, why Trains? It just seems so random.

Steam, like several other Links, is based around his gameplay. As an engineer, he’s a pretty hands-on type of person, which is why he frequently gets distracted with the inner workings of other Links’ items. And due to the fact that Trains require very little input to control and a lot of travel time, he’s the least physical of all of them. This basically means that he runs the slowest, hits the lightest, and will likely bring the least to the table in a fight. This is one of the reasons I gave him the ‘I Like Trains’ summon, because even if he himself can’t hit very hard, his Train sure as heck can.

Oh my gosh I think this took me a solid hour to type out, I hope you’re very happy with this response Anon ;)

#Changeling Answers #Opinions #Headcanons #I had a lot of fun with this but my gosh writing it out took forever #Anonymous Replies #All the DL Links #Dimensional Links

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irondadgroupie · 5 years

Text

Tony starts an LGBT- club

@marvelstheavengers and I have had the best time spewing out headcanons! This one we had many many weeks ago. I was going through our convos and this one is way too precious. LOTS OF IRONDAD AHEAD!!!!

irondadgroupie

I believe both Tony and Peter are Bi

Tony is canonically Bi in the comics

Tony would take Peter under his wing and take him to Pride or they would have their own little party in the Tower, with themed cupcakes

marvelstheavengers

Tony is hella bi

*bi

that man is the most bi man in the universe

And I think Peter would be too with his crush on Thor and maybe even Cap!

marvelstheavengers

And I love the idea of pride parade led by Tony and Peter

Or even just a casual rainbow party

irondadgroupie

Peter and Tony watch LOTR trilogy in the party, others complain about the lack of women but they just say ARE YOU KIDDING A BUNCH OF HOT MEN THIS IS HEAVEN!

marvelstheavengers

Hahaha yesssss!

And I can totally see them getting into like every action movie ever because MUSCLES

irondadgroupie

Skimpy clothed women plus hot men :D

And Tony pointing out cute teens when they are out, which always makes Peter blush

marvelstheavengers

Awww yes I love Tony trying to set Peter up

irondadgroupie

Tony always building up Peter's self confidence

"You're a good looking kid, why not go out there and ask him out?"

marvelstheavengers

“How could he say no to those eyes?”

And Peter just blushes so much

irondadgroupie

"As easily as you said no to me using the Iron Man armor."

marvelstheavengers

When he does ask someone out Tony stands by closely gesturing with encouragement

irondadgroupie

"Hey, that is a weapon, totally different"

marvelstheavengers

Ahahahahah I love that line

irondadgroupie

Tony behind the crush with thumbs up

And if Peter is rejected, he gives him a sidehug and buys ice cream to cheer him up

marvelstheavengers

And mouthing stuff like “doing great, go for the hug”

Ice cream occurs literally no matter what

Can you imagine Peter practicing flirting with the Avengers

Each one gives him style tips

Like Steve is all classy and “open doors, be polite, be classy, etc”

And Natasha is all like “SHOW THEM HOW BAD ASS YOU ARE SHOW THAT ASS BE PROUD YOU KNOW WHAT JUST FIGHT THEM ITS SUPER SEXY”

And Bruce claims he’s the worst person to ask

marvelstheavengers

Thor gives Asgardian advice “Court them sweetly, leave honeyed nectar for them each morning, and be sure to ask them out with great grandeur... fireworks are always a success!”

Everyone tries to help plan him the perfect date

irondadgroupie

Eventually Tony comes in and brushes them all off, telling them not to confuse his kid

irondadgroupie

"Do what makes you comfortable? You like cafes- go there. Want to take a walk- a great idea. I can't give you a guidebook on this, kiddo. It's all trial and error."

marvelstheavengers

“Trust me, I’ve had a plentyyy off dates. They go bad if you’re out of your comfort zone. Or if you’re an asshole like I was.”

“Just go with your gut, Underoos”

And don’t forget the safety lectures from Tony

“Safe sex is good sex, Peter.”

irondadgroupie

Tony giving Peter the talk :D Oh, I need to see that

"Even if neither of you could get pregnant, always use protection. Use more than one if you want to."

"Also, masturbation is a great way to find out what you like and don't- "

"MR STARK!"

marvelstheavengers

“Kid, it’s a perfectly natural bodily-“

marvelstheavengers

“STOP!”

irondadgroupie

"There is nothing embarrassing about it and it doesn't grow hair in hands or anything ridiculous, so just go on if you feel like it"

"And if you don't want to have sex yet, no pressure. Never let anyone pressure you. Sex should be fun!"

marvelstheavengers

“And don’t forget, no one chooses when you’re ready, that’s all you.”

irondadgroupie

Wow, mind sync :D

marvelstheavengers

“If you don’t like it you can stop anytime!”

Hahaha that was perfect

Gosh that would be adorable

And of course even if Peter didn’t want to talk about it

The next day he’d find condom, lube, and various other safety and pleasure devices with a smiley face note

irondadgroupie

"And if anyone ever tries to force themselves on you, kick, scream, hit them in the balls. Anything is allowed in that situation."

Oh yeah, Tony does some late night shopping and Peter hides the box, he can't even look into it :D

marvelstheavengers

“And tell an adult what happened, especially me. I promise I won’t kill them. Ok, maybe a little but they’d deserve it!”

irondadgroupie

He can't imagine his mentor picking out stuff for him

marvelstheavengers

Hahah yesss!

And can you imagine Tony walking in on Peter researching how to be intimate with males (like whether you need lube, etc)

And Tony didn’t realize he was bi, so of course he’s happy for Peter and gives him advice on how to be intimate with both genders

Peter might be embarrassed at first, maybe he hasn’t come out yet, but Tony would be so loving and helpful!

irondadgroupie

"I'm serious, kid, if someone tries anything, tell me. That kind of a situation can be very traumatizing. And remember, it is never your fault, it's the fault of the person who can't control his urges and doesn't respect you"

irondadgroupie

At first Tony walks in on Peter masturbating. Tony immediately covers his eyes, apologizes and closes the door. They avoid each other for the rest of the day and next morning are overly polite.

irondadgroupie

Yes, Peter didn't really ever come out as Bi, Tony just found out. Peter was nervous Tony was going to treat him differently, he knew Tony was Bi but would he be alright with Peter being one. Would Tony even believe him or would he say it is just a phase and avoid the topic? What if Tony abandoned him?

marvelstheavengers

Oooo yes! Imagine the awkwardness, Peter is worried Tony will make him give up his room after that display, since he’s heard a lot of people are against masturbation, but Tony explains its natiral

And Peter is super worried when Tony finds out

irondadgroupie

"Kid, I know all about this so if you have any questions, I am more than happy to help. Or if you don't feel comfortable with talking about this stuff with me, I can recommend you to some good websites. You know, there are groups for LGBT youth, would you be interested in that?"

Yep, Tony is totally cool with masturbation

"Hey, I do it also!"

marvelstheavengers

So Tony starts his oan

*own

Peter says he doesn’t want a stranger leading him in an LGBT group

irondadgroupie

"I knew it but I DID NOT need a confirmation"

marvelstheavengers

It actually starts as a program at the tower

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"Just lock the door next time, alright. Saves us both from embarrassment."

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Hahahah yes!

Peter would be so awkward over that stuff

Tony offers to make him a do not disturb sign

irondadgroupie

TONY LEADING A LGBT CLUB!

Peter uses the sign every time he can, eventually it is extremely difficult for Tony to tell what Peter is doing in that room since the sign is always on the door. Peter doesn't want to signal the world he is pleasuring himself :D

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Isn’t that the best?!

irondadgroupie

YEAH!

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Tony just starts ignoring the sign, which leads to more issues, which leads to a lock installation

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which eventually causes problems when Peter sneaks out to be spiderman

Tony would be the best LGBT leader

I’m talking rainbow cakes, walls, food, fucking parades

He’d try to normalize it

Especially after being ostracized by his own father

He’d give safe sex, flirting, and other tips

irondadgroupie

They have snacks and Tony makes it a very relaxed event, the kids can talk if they have any issues, catch up with each other. Tony doesn't really make it LGBT themes, they don't really talk about politics but rather about normal life

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And each kid member would have his personal phone number in case they ever needed advice

irondadgroupie

Tony also offers one-on-one time if someone has a sensitive issue

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Yes! I love that!

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He’d totally want to normalize it, just talk about normal things, movies, etc

And when he notices two boys who have heart eyes for each other he goes to work trying to set them up!

irondadgroupie

They have movie nights, outings to interesting places and once have a pajama party, Peter and Tony realized neither of them had ever been in one

marvelstheavengers

It’s all about normalcy and being able to accept themselves, as well as provide advice if they ever need it

Oh my gosh I love pajama party fics!

It’d be an EPIC PJ party too

Maybe even some of the other Avengers would stop by

And tell the kids how they’re the true heroes accepting themselves and braving a world that can sometimes be ignorant

irondadgroupie

Exactly, Tony wants kids to accept themselves, they don't need to become active members of LGBT community, just to be functional adults. Peter makes many friends and gets lots of support for his thoughts.

Tony also makes sure there is no Bi-phobia since sometimes LGBT people don't really look kindly on them

irondadgroupie

Tony even accepts Bi-curious people, the more the merrier "It's not like we are arranging an orgy"

marvelstheavengers

Hahaha I love that!

He’d be the most welcoming person eber

And any signs of discrimination or phobia he would shut down so wuixk

quick

irondadgroupie

EPIC party alright. They have pizza, get to go to the Avengers gym where they try all the machines. Peter amazes them all with his gymnastics and Tony nearly has a heart attack as the boy does crazy tricks. Tony has the intention to go to his own floor but all the kids want him to stay. They all camp on the ground in sleeping bags and just gossip until Pepper comes and tells them to go to bed

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“Who the fuck still cares about sexual orientation? We should care about Earth’s orientation because my God we may have some future issues in that department”

Oh yes!

Pepper is *this* close to kicking Tony out, because he’s having the most fun of all!

In fact he encouraged it

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“Babe, every teenager stays up too late at a sleepover it’s only natural! And adds to childhood experience! I read a whole book on it”

irondadgroupie

Tony placing all kind of crazy bets and giving money to those who complete them succesfully

"The one who can fit most marshmallows in their mouth gets a dollar!"

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And the bets are ridiculous amounts, Tony practically throws money at the kids since he knows most can’t even afford college

Like $200 for whoever can do the best Shania Twain impression

irondadgroupie

Peter managed to get twenty marshmallows into his mouth, Tony still doesn't know how he did it

But the boy did need quick Heimlich since he started choking

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No more marshmallow contests after that 😂😂

irondadgroupie

Tony gives money away like crazy!

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It also turns out the quietest boy in the class can belt a tune

irondadgroupie

Peter would have been eager to do a round two :D

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Oh for sure! That boy grew up on food competitions after all.

irondadgroupie

500 dollars on who can eat most wasabi!

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Imagine Peter starting a youtube channel for “life advice from Mr. Stark” based off the group

Peter did not excel at that one

irondadgroupie

They have singstar battles, Tony is amazingly good singer

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Turns out his enhanced senses can NOT handle spice

irondadgroupie

Yep, Peter had tears in his eyes and had to forfeit :D

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Tony has a whole John Travolta combined with AC/DC vibe

He’s a great dancer, an even better air guitarist

irondadgroupie

Tony tries to avoid challenges that he knows Peter will dominate. Some teens ask for a handstand competition but Tony knows Peter would win it hands down

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Eventually, he has to appoint Peter as a judge for all gymnast competitions

irondadgroupie

They have all sorts of WII games in their space

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Tony competes instead

They also have an entire laser tag course

irondadgroupie

PETER AND TONY ON OPPOSING TEAMS!

They are determined to take each other down

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OH MY GOSH YES

Turns out Peter has an entire strategy board

irondadgroupie

Like, of course they work well and usually, if it is an Avenger challenge, they are paired up but now, war is on

irondadgroupie

Peter and Tony know the other's moves and plan based on that

"Peter favors heights, so be very careful when you see a ledge, try to keep the edges, that makes it harder to hit you."

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“And Peter also has really good... hearing, so try to be quiet. It’s best to go for him from a distance”

“Tony is great at setting traps, try not to move in predictable patterns, and don’t walk down one way paths”

irondadgroupie

It ends up with all of the opposing team members trying to take down Peter :D

"This is not fair!" Peter screams as he runs into cover.

marvelstheavengers

Peter is the biggest threat, he’s great at gymnastics and seems to have these super great instincts (woah what a shock)

So Tony’s strategy is definitely to have everyone corner him first

Peter is totally pissed about it

Once he’s out he ends up shouting advice to his teammates from afar

irondadgroupie

"Hey, no participating! You are dead!" Tony shouts

"I'm a ghost! Their guiding spirit!"

"Hush, you, RIP."

When they finally get Peter cornered and done for, Tony begins a small eulogy but Peter's kicks him in the shin in annoyance

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Hahahahahahaha I love that!

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“Peter was a good kid who always tried his hardest, but in the end he succumbed to laser tag. Let it be remembered that Tony outlived Peter in laser tag, and he’s nearly 50. RIP.”

Peter mumbles something about coming back to haunt Tony

And he makes sure next game to immediately target the man, not for strategy but REVENGE

irondadgroupie

Oh yeah, Peter is out to get Tony from now on :D In every game they play

irondadgroupie

Like once the group play football with Tony and Peter on opposing teams and Peter is dead-set on NOT giving Tony the ball.

irondadgroupie

Tony also doesn't want to give up.

At one point the ball is cornered to a wall and neither lets the other go

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And of course when someone fumbles in American football Tony and Peter are the first to dog pile on top, both refusing to move because oh my gosh what if the ball slips

In fact there’s a running tally on a chalkboard of Tony and Peters’s competitions

Members take bets, it’s all very serious

Of course at the end of the day, though, Tony ruffles Peter’s hair and slings an arm around him, Peter smiles and hands him a Coke.

irondadgroupie

Oh yes! All their fights are in good nature and they make sure to never injure each other!

By the way, Peter would be the ultimate Twister champion

How about Tony and Peter being a pair in Trivial Pursuit. Others think they are crushed but even that pair has things they don't know

irondadgroupie

Once they played basketball and Peter, being the smallest of the group was accidentally knocked down and sprained his wrist

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Tony totally freaked out and had Peter checked out by no less than three doctors

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Also don’t forget that one time at Twister when Peter’s sticky hands would NOT detach from the twister tarp, which ended up in one big burrito wrapped Peter Parker as everyone fled for their lofe

r from

*life

and idk why it added random space and words lol

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Also in Trivial Pursuit Peter discovers Tony is useless at geography

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“You’ve literally been to Spain 10000 times how do you not know the capitol?!”

“You don’t ask ‘excuse me is this the capitol’ while you’re in a Spanish city!”

irondadgroupie

Peter in turn knows NOTHING about history

"When did World War 2 end?"

"Ummm- 19...82?"

irondadgroupie

Tony snorted. "Oh, yeah, I remember it so well. Fuck it, Peter, that's embarrassing."

Yes! Tony being a mother-hen is the best!

"Mr Stark, I just need some ice. It's fine, I have had much worse."

"Hush, now, rest. How many fingers am I holding up? I'm gonna tell you five words and I want you to repeat them in backwards order."

marvelstheavengers

Peter is totally just bad with years in general

In fact he frequently confused what year Tony was born

He alters between asking him what the Great Depression was like and what it was like to be - kid in the 90s

Tony has learned not to be offended that Peter thinks he was born in the 30s

The kid practically doesn’t even know when he was born

And yesssss! Tony totally mothers Peter when he’s injured

marvelstheavengers

He also obsessively worries

“When will he be able to walk again?”

“He... he sprained his elbow, Mr. Stark...”

“Exactly! Bed rest for a month, right?”

Peter of course is always insisting he’s fine

“Mr. Stark I have super healing! I’m practically invincible!”

“You think you’re WHAT NOW”

irondadgroupie

Yes! Peter forgets dates so easily "I know what you are talking about but I have no idea when it happened." Like Peter knows about 9/11, he knows where it happened, has been to the site, knows everything about it and still never gets the year right

"Peter, you were literally born the year it happened Jesus Christ! I am about to banish you!"

irondadgroupie

At first Tony was offended when Peter got his birth year wrong. Once Peter asked if Tony fought in Vietnam. Nowadays, if they play any kind of quiz and the question beings with "When", Tony immediately knows to cover Peter's mouth

irondadgroupie

Tony is not generally a mother-hen, he does not care if Peter eats healthy or goes to bed at a reasonable time but when Peter is injured or sick, he is out of his mind with worry.

"Mr Stark, it was just a sneeze. It's dusty in here."

"Yeah, nope, not taking a chance," Tony says while wrapping the boy in a million blankets

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Peter even has a single goosebump, you better believe Tony is bundling that boy up

He also consistently reminds Peter to eat

Like CONSTANTLY

Tony actually has FRIDAY make sure a sandwich is always made at regular intervals

Just in case

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Peter also once tried to get Tony to study with him, asking him questions about what the 40s were like

Tony knew not to get offended at this point, so he just dragged Cap in to tutor the boy

irondadgroupie

At first Tony went along with it, he knew some stories but then Peter started talking with "you" pronoun and Tony just dragged Cap into the picture

It is a miracle Peter passes history

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It’s pretty much only due to his amazing memory, which apparently expire the day after a history test. He retains absolutely nothing from that class.

Everything else, however, he’s an absolute genius with.

Tony doesn’t even realize how brilliant the boy is until they’re working on a science project

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Peter is trying to figure out a way to use bacteria to produce methane readily available for energy use

And Tony suggests adding a mechanized aspect, like a way to use nanoparticles to extract the bacteria’s respiration profucts

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And Peter immediately draws up plans for them to rely on sensory mechanisms

Idk I’m just kinda making this up as I go

Or Peter has an idea to upgrade Tony’s suit and probes him wrong about soemtjing

Regardless, Tony is shocked and realizes just HOW smart Peter is

#irondad

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