#THIS IS VERY RAMBLY AND HOPEFULLY IS NOT TOO UNBEARABLE TO READ?

[aboutcustardcreams]

There can't be a Universe without the Doctor

summary: The Doctor should know better than shutting the people she loves out, thinking they would do nothing about it.

word count: 3200 ish

Nothing but pure fluff, again. Sorry not sorry. Also, did I reread? Course not throws custard creams as apology

The Doctor was one of the best persons you’ve ever met. Kind, courageous and incredibly funny. She was everything you’ve always dreamed to be. The way she responded to the distress calls, without ever holding back, inspired you to be the best version of yourself. You hadn’t always been so brave, nor curious about life. That’s probably one of the best gifts she could give you. Bring out the best of you, the curiosity and the will to help those in need. 

The Doctor was the universe, the galaxies and the stars. The very essence of life. She showed you the impossible, and you fell in love with it. With her. How could you not? At first you thought it was the things she showed you. The wonders of a lifetime, that otherwise you’d have never seen by yourself nor ever known about. A part of you knew you could never go back to the life you had, after seeing and experiencing so much. After getting to know her, the Time Lady who held all the stars in the universe like a bouquet of flowers to you. Who could ever top that? 

With time, you realized the real thing you couldn’t do without. It wasn’t the journeys, the views nor the variety of species from all over the universe. It was her, the Doctor. Your Doctor. When her fingers casually clasped with yours and her eyes shone with their own light, your smile reached up your ears, to her enthusiasm and optimism, to her way to love life. To (hopefully) love you. 

You were nineteen when you first joined her on the TARDIS, now twenty four. You had changed so much after that and the Doctor saw all of it. Yaz did too. She was so incredibly proud of the woman you had become,  no longer a shy little girl, too afraid to stand up for herself or for anyone else (not that it was bad, mind). Now– oh now, there was a fire in your eyes. Warm, welcoming, and so beautiful. The Doctor couldn’t help but feel lured in. 

You had the Doctor wrapped around your little finger. Yaz was good at reading her best friend, she knew her more than anyone else. The Doctor could deny it to herself, to Yaz, to you, it didn’t matter, neither did it change the fact that she loved you in a way that went beyond the concept of friendship and family. Maybe it was the reason why lately she had been more cautious, both with you and Yaz. 

“I’ll be back in a jiffy, you stay right here,” she didn’t even wait for you to answer, probably sure both of you would have something to say about it. You always had. 

You merely rolled your eyes at her behavior, really struggling to understand what all this sudden fuss was about. 

“We should come with you. You need back up,” Yaz insisted, arms crossed over her chest. 

The Doctor sighed, turned briefly towards her and shook her head. “There’s no need, truly. I got this. You should rest, have something to eat maybe. When was the last time you two had a proper meal?” She was rambling again, flying her hands in mid air to give emphasis to her speech. You didn’t want to eat, and neither did Yaz. Not when she was throwing herself to one of her impossible missions, playing the hero by herself.

“We can eat, after answering this distress call together,” you objected. 

It had become unbearable, the way she was shutting you out and so easily. You couldn’t hide the hurt in your eyes, despite the bitterness behind which you masked it quite well. Your voice always sounding firm and confident. You wanted her to see, to feel, that her behavior was hurting you, hurting Yaz. When her eyes landed on you, you spotted a hint of hesitation, mouth parting briefly only to close again and press in a firm line. Thinking. Overthinking. The frown on her forehead said so too. 

“We answered one together a couple of hours ago. Aren’t you tired? Last time I checked, humans needed to sleep ten hours per day, and you two are barely making three per night,” she reasoned, voice trembling a bit out of nervousness. Yaz gave you a worried glance, you briefly reciprocated. 

“First of all, it’s advisable to sleep between seven and eight hours per night, not ten,” she groaned, and you gave her a little grin, knowing way too well how she disliked being contradicted or corrected. “Secondly, we can’t really rest anyway knowing you wander off by yourself in search of trouble. So it’s not gonna work.”

The Doctor scoffed, indignant. “I don’t look for trouble myself,” she whined. “It’s not my fault the Universe basks in chaos on a daily basis.”

“Of course not,” Yaz muttered softly. “Look, we respect this is your life, answering distress calls, helping around. But we want to be part of it. We have been part of it for years now, and we want to continue on this path, with you. Not just every now and then.” 

You couldn’t agree more with Yaz’s words, even if you tried. Deep down you knew the Doctor agreed to. That’s all she ever wanted, to keep you with her, all over the Universe, but sometimes the Doctor was also scared. Most of the time, she simply hid it well. The Universe was as beautiful as dangerous. And the thought of something happening, something irreversible, cruel and very much likely to happen paralyzed her with fear. 

She sighed and nibbled on her bottom lip, leaning against the panel of the TARDIS. Your features softened; she looked tired, and she probably was. She hardly took care of herself, even less let others do that for her. And it was unnerving, because you wanted your relationship to be between equals. You wanted to help, protect her, be there for her as much as she was there for you, both you and Yaz. 

You take a step forward, reaching up to her. Tilting your head to the side, you run up a hand to her face. You hesitate a second before allowing yourself to brush aside a lock of blond hair behind her ear. The Doctor felt her cheeks heating up. Closed her eyes for a second, counted to three, before muttering your name softly. 

You smiled, “we are not letting you go by yourself. Last time I checked Yaz and I moved here to stay,” you spoke with unwavering conviction. “I don’t care how dangerous it is. That never stopped us before and it certainly won’t start now.”

The Doctor exhaled, and slowly looked up at you, with pleading eyes. Those  hazel orbs were so beautiful, so expressive, each and every time you found yourself diving in so easily.

“You don’t understand,” the Doctor muttered. 

When you frowned, she let out a groan and her features dimmed in thought. 

“Except that we do,” Yaz insisted, reaching up to the two of you.

“We’ve been traveling with you for how long now?” You questioned. “Five years for me, and eight for Yaz. Maybe nine?”

She mouthed eight and a half. The Doctor groaned again, slightly pinching the root of her nose and withdrawing from the panel of a couple of steps. She knew you were right, that both you and Yaz were perfectly capable of taking care of each other, (maybe too much), but the Doctor was still terrified. She couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of her mind telling her she was pushing her luck. Perhaps it was because it had been that long, that she feared something was doomed to happen any moment now. 

The Universe had been kind to her. It allowed her to meet the best persons ever. Having someone like you and Yaz by her side for so long, determined not to let go meant more than any star in the Universe. That’s why she needed to preserve it, for as long as possible. Nothing with her lasted forever. And the idea of losing you to one of her reckless travels saving the universe, was way too painful, too unfair to accept. The Doctor felt something change within her hearts the moment she started believing she would disrupt the balance of space and time if that meant keeping both you and Yaz with her. 

“Y/n, please–”, her voice sounded like a plea. “Just this once. Let me do this my way.”

You hushed her softly, with a gentleness she thought she didn’t deserve. She closed her eyes as you took another step closer to her, reducing the gap she had put between you and her. Her nostrils filled up with your smell, and she found herself inhaling deeply, and closing her eyes while doing so.

You slowly blinked at her, to keep your own emotion at bay, as much as possible. “I know you want to protect us from whatever it is out there, but can’t you see we want to do the exact same?” Your voice came out in a faint whisper. 

She nodded quietly, but still objected, “I can take care of myself, though.”

You tilted your head to the side, snorting playfully, “Sometimes, I guess that’s true. But you tend to be reckless, way too much for my liking.”

If that was a confession of love, and it was, the Doctor wouldn’t know. Or perhaps she would pretend she didn’t, however it was crystal clear. There were many ways to say I love yous to someone and that was definitely one of them. 

“Or mine,” Yaz added, a playful smirk curving her lips.

She puffed up her cheeks childishly, “I can be reckless, thank you very much. Little tougher than you, me. Different biology. Haven’t decided that myself.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. It’s a soft, small laugh that for a moment helps ease the tension in the TARDIS. She was right about that, yet it didn’t mean you were willing to risk her life more than you’d risk yours or Yaz’s. 

“So sweet of you, laughing at me,” she teased. 

You promptly shook your head as your giggles died down. “I wouldn’t dare. You know that.” 

Yaz glanced at her, while her eyes were still fondly locked with yours. She placed a hand upon the Doctor’s shoulder, squeezing it a bit. “Remember when you once said to me, we are capable of the most incredible change, that we can inspire people, make the difference, no matter what we are, humans, Time Lords, whatever,” Yaz trailed off, and the Doctor blinked off some tears that were glistening in her eyes, “I clung to that. Made it my mission. So did she,” she eyed you and you promptly nodded. 

You interjected before she could protest any further. 

“I found a purpose in life, ya know,” her eyes turned back to you. You spotted her nose scrunching up a bit, as a veil of nostalgia flashed through your eyes. “And that’s thanks to you. I was nobody before I met you…” you add, making the Doctor immediately frown at your words. Ready to interject, you raise your hand in the air, begging her with your eyes to listen before saying anything else. You laid that same hand upon her chest, smiling at the sound of her heartbeats thumping against your palm. Soothing, yet electrifying. 

You take in a soft breath, then smiled, “I was nobody the Universe could rely on. But now I am. I may be just a human, but I’m giving my life a purpose by helping those in distress. Helping you, helping them. And that’s… priceless.”   

“And you’re both doing an incredible job, alright,” the Doctor reaches out to cup your cheek tenderly, voice shaking a bit, fingers too. She was proud of you, and she wished both of you knew just how much. If only you could see yourself through her eyes, you’d know all the things, all the rules, she would break to always guarantee the two of you your deserved happiness. 

“But that doesn’t mean that’s all you have to do, all the time," she breathed out. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to help, but I value your lives too much. So when I can do something about it, I will not endanger you. There can’t be a universe without you. Under no circumstances.” 

You nodded and took a step back, as if her words had somehow affected you. Or so she thought. She frowned, concerning veiling her features, when you fell quiet, thinking about the fact that there couldn’t be a Universe without the Doctor. It was more like it.  She was hope, she was life. What’s the point of everything without such things? Without someone ready to give herself to guarantee that? 

“Are you alright?” She asked you, eyes squinting a bit in concern. You nodded your head, however, still thinking. 

Maybe that was your real purpose. Always making sure the Doctor could help those in need, by protecting her, having her back, for as long as possible. 

You gave her a reassuring smile, when the Doctor's features didn't relax at your non verbal response. She didn't like those, you knew that. “I’m fine, Doc. Just thinking. Got that from you," you teased lightly. 

The Time lady seemed to relax at your playful tone. She shook her head in amusement, then turned to Yaz as she spoke, “can you tell us at least what you will be facing?” 

The Doctor winced. “Ah, you know–” she hid her hands in her pockets, swinging a bit, trying to master a response that would not freak out the two of you. “A tribe of… wild humans. Let’s put it like that. Still on Earth, though. Papua New Guinea, it should be. Funny name, isn’t it? Always struggled to pronounce it for some reason.”

She and her diversions.

“Tribe?”

“Wild humans?”

Both you and Yaz scrunched up your face almost simultaneously. 

The Doctor nodded.  “Also known as – flesh eaters.”

“Oh God–” Yaz muttered, eyes widening at the idea passing through her mind, “are you talking about zombies?” She half yelled. 

The Doctor looked at her as if she was going mad. “What? Nooo. Although they look like them,” a nervous chuckle came out of her. Despite the small reassurance of those not being zombies, the alternative didn’t seem much better. “There’s not such a thing as zombies. That's a plain fantasy of the human’s mind.”

“You can’t really blame us, considering what we have seen during these years. I could very well believe unicorns are a thing,” you said. 

“Well, you’d be right. They are real. Super real,” she glanced at you with the most serious expression she could master. Now it was your turn to open your mouth in disbelief. “Very feisty, I must say. Encountered one once, tried to ride it. Didn’t go well. Almost got stabbed in the side,” she winced at the memory and so did you. 

Yaz mouthed a fleebile ‘sorry’ in response to that, but she waved her hand as if it was nothing. 

“Just so to be clear, are we talking about cannibals?”

"Yep!" The doctor nodded with a hesitant smile upon her face. She nudged at your arm, noticing how nervous and stiff you’d become. Always worrying about her. “They aren’t very smart, though, so it’s gonna be a piece of cake. All I need to do is enter their camp, save those that had been captured, and go back, easy peasy.” 

“Doesn’t look easy peasy,” you quickly retorted. “Not without a proper backup or a plan...”

The Doctor started nibbling on her bottom lip, as clear sign that no, she didn't have one. A plan. She hardly ever had one. 

“What if they capture you too?” Yaz insisted. 

“Well, that would be inconvenient, wouldn’t it?” She half joked. That was a possibility you were not willing to take. You shook your head and snorted, then moved towards the panel of the TARDIS, taking a look at the surrounding area. The Doctor followed you with her gaze, frowning as she tried to understand what you were thinking about. You learned how to use the spaceship, both you and Yaz did. So you pushed a couple of buttons to figure how many cannibals were out there and how close to the TARDIS. 

You scrunched up your face at all the red dots appearing over the screen, one by one, eyes widening at the sight. “You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath. When you turn around to face the Doctor, she can tell you're not exactly pleased with her. “You wanted to face all of these beasts by yourself?” You almost yelled in disbelief. 

"I... er.. I mean," her hearts rate picked up. 

In the meantime, Yaz drew closer to check the screens herself. "Doctor, are you suicidal?"

“Of course I am not,” she argued back. You wish you could shorten the distance between you and her and smooch that adorable crease on her forehead that formed every time the Doctor would whine like a baby. "I love this body!" 

You arched an eyebrow at that, mockingly just for the fun of it, "You don’t say.” 

She stuck her tongue out at you, making you giggle. 

“We are doing this together, or we are not doing this at all,” Yaz announced categorically, hands on her hips. 

The Doctor lolled her head backwards and let out a grunt. “Fine,” she hissed, refusing to look at you, nor Yaz, “Fine,” she repeated it more calmly, softly and faking a smile. 

You took a sigh of relief and so did Yaz. She draped an arm over your shoulder with a satisfied grin. 

“But if you two end up in trouble, I’ll be very cross.” 

“Fair enough,” said Yaz. 

“We have a duty of care, you know.”

The Time Lady’s hearts hammered in her chest when you said that.

“You said there can’t be a universe without me and Yaz, well, I think there can’t be a universe without the Doctor.”

The Time Lady felt overwhelmed. She stared at the two of you with nothing but pure gratitude and love. When you playfully nudged at her, in the hope to help her soothe her nerves, her lips twitched in an amused smile, despite everything. She rolled her eyes at you, “Oi! You can’t steal my lines. Pretty sure it’s cheating.” 

You chuckled, moving towards the TARDIS’ door, along with Yaz by your side. 

“I’ll make up with you,” you promised, walking backwards so that you could still take in her features.

“Are ya coming or not?”

She sighed, slightly shaking her head. “Course I am,” she grumbled. 

“You two stay close,” she warned, voice firm, eyes soft. 

“Always,” Yaz promised. 

“Cross my heart,” you echoed, vowing to never lose sight of her.

[joopacabra]

eeehhh more ramblings I gotta ramble it out tonight..

tonight I am thinking about the beloved Heart princess,, I will never not tear up when it comes time to speak with her,, I love her!

my days have continued to be a bit more rocky,, it’s not really all that bad mentally sometimes, it’s more physically now ,, whatever illness has taken hold of me is kinda worsening, I’ve felt like Shit all day and the past few days,, I couldn’t even eat anything today ,,

I’ve been a bit emotional today for some reason , not entirely a bad thing, started with being so excited and tearing up over really cute princess art among hiccup crying explaining to my sibling why ultrakill’s ost is a masterpiece. happened a few times. that one’s not too out of the ordinary..

I’ve been a bit upset that I can’t really draw lately too,, naturally it’s been difficult over how shitty I feel and im upset at my lack of progress and I want to be able to make things to share… it’s alright though, I know that’s a bad mindset , just a bit upsetting,,

I had a very nice time playing sky: children of the light for the first time,, maybe I am making friends, I haven’t made a friend in a really long time,, it was very nice

all in all,, I think I’d be better instantly if I could squeeze a princess plushie and drift into blissful rest.. reality is often cruel :(

that’ll probably do it for now,, hopefully I won’t wake up even worse and unbearably nauseous again! if anyone happens to read my ramblings,, or venting , I hope you have a good day or night, and thank you <3

[hinnymicrofic]

Are there going to be prompts for every month or will there be like a holiday break so we can catch up? Cause I dunno if can do 12 months worth of prompts it feels overwhelming

Hiya anon!

I really hear you and understand why you might be feeling a bit overwhelmed with wanting to keep up and write lots but there being an awful lot to write, so I'm going to put quite a long answer here, and if you want to follow up with any thoughts, please don't hesitate to contact me (whether its through asks again or a message 😊) as it's important that you feel that your concerns have been recognised and resolved 🙃

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Personally, I feel that every single day of the year should have a prompt available. Why, you're probably thinking? Well . . .

• I've had messages from a range of people telling me how this blog has really lightened they're day, and that they're feeling a lot better through the fabulous microfics of all the incredible writers contributing to @hinnymicrofic, and through writing for the prompts themselves. This means so much to me - as someone who struggles a lot irl, having the community that comes with fandom is essential to my wellbeing, so I know how some people are feeling! Through just reading a brilliant little microfic, my day can go from unbearable to managable, and I get the impressions that quite a few of the people who interact/follow this blog feel the same, and I don't want to take that away from them - even if it's just for a short period of time!

• My second reason for wanting to provide prompts for everyday is for the routine aspect. As someone who really struggles with changes in routine and a lack of predictability and control that comes with a difference in the things in our day to day lives, the little things like having the same breakfast, wearing the same clothes, getting up at the same time and having a prompt to write for can make or break a day for many of us, especially neurodivergent people. Not long ago my high school hosted a surprise non-uniform day. That day I couldn't go into school because of that, and I couldn't go in the following days because this change had upset me so much - I literally didn't stop panicking and crying for multiple days. For many people writing for/reading @hinnymicrofic has become apart of their daily routine. And knowing how even the smallest of changes to my daily routine effect me, I know how it can effect other people aswell, so having periods of time without @hinnymicrofic could really unsettle many of us. Even if it is just one person who is deeply upset over this change, I would never want to make anyone feel like that.

• Another reason why I don't really want to put a pause on @hinnymicrofic is because of the fabulous reward-like system we've started! If you write something for every prompt in a week, you get this:

And a version of this image for writing for the whole month is in the making aswell!!! If we took a break for a few days it would interrupt this reward system - which would be very irritating for some people!

• My final reason for not feeling great about putting a hold on @hinnymicrofic would be - when would we have a break? Would we go for religious holidays? Public holidays? School holidays? Anniversaries of important events? For particular times of the year (e.g 1st few days of every month)? It would be too hard to decide, and I can guarantee you people would then disagree with the placement of the break and want it in a different place, as unfortunately I can't please everyone. If I did conclude that it really was worth taking some breaks, obviously this isn't a massive barrier to get past, but it most definitely is a contributing factor.

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Okay, now I've said all that (sorry for rambling a bit 🤣) I'd like to suggest some things that will hopefully make this feel a bit less overwhelming for you! No one should have to feel overwhelmed, and it upsets me that you may be feeling this way as a result of Hinny Microfics, so these suggestions will hopefully help 🙂

• This may seem a bit obvious, but you don't have to write for every single prompt. If you struggle with the idea of not knowing what to skip or write, try working out some days that you won't write. You could choose to not write every Monday & Wednesday, or deciding not to write on some specific occasions, whatever suits you - go for it! Or you could just choose to write it based on the prompt for that day, or what you are feeling 😀

• Merge prompts together! A few people have done this already and it works really well! It means you're writing only one microfic, but still get to write for each prompt!

• Write shorter microfics - easier said than done! But, if you can master the art of a super tiny microfic, I'm sure things will become less overwhelming as you won't be writing as much.

• Write ahead - I give you the prompts in advanced, so if you have a free evening where you are doing nothing, you could go ahead and write your microfics in advanced, meaning you get a few days of no writing. 😄

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Please, please, please reach out to me again anon if you don't feel content that this issue has been resolved or anything else that is concerning you, or any suggestions - I'm happy to help 🙂 Also - if anyone else wants to comment/suggest anything about this, my ears are open 😁

Have a fab day <3

[meyerlansky]

Oh goodness, what three or five characteristics can you boil Meyer down to? I'm sorry for one again asking you to elaborate on a throwaway line in your tags, but I'm so curious, and your meta is just so awesome.

@jasonjacinto said: if you’d be willing i’d love to hear more about you “you want me to be a villain? i’ll show you a villain” meyer meta 

OH NO you guys are just giving me an opportunity to ramble aaaahhhh /o\ okay so. to preface: i am a very big fan of a writer in a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT fandom who i think is fantastic at her craft, and who writes a loooooooot of AUs that stick the characters she’s writing into completely different situations than canon. but the characters are always recognizable because she’s very very good at distilling them down to a few key traits, and then having those traits interplay with the situation[s] of the AU. it’s a really effective way to go way beyond the canon content but keep the characters immediately in-character, and since reading her meta on her process i’ve been kind of trying to do the same for the only characters i ever really write fic with, and while i don’t think i can quite do it for charlie as definitively, i have Opinions on meyer and i also think meyer is the easier of the two to misunderstand and therefore mischaracterize, so that influences how strongly i feel about my read as well. after thinking about it a bit more in depth, the “you want me to be a villain? i’ll show you a villain” thing that the tags were on is teeechnically not one of those pillar traits of his, it’s a combination of two traits that ARE pillar traits, and i’ll talk about why it’s a combo trait later on. for the actual traits themselves, with longer explanations under the cut:

a drive to survive/succeed and a fundamental need for security;

extreme stubbornness;

Smartypants;

and the limited emotional expression we all know and love;

and the “i’ll show you a villain” thing is a weird blend of traits 1 and 2.

so in terms of Base Motivations, for me meyer’s number one priority is always always always his Drive to Survive/Succeed. in canon this is influenced by his traumatic childhood, because growing up in a place full of people trying to kill you and everyone you know constantly sort of makes survival the ultimate goal with everything that you do. but because i don’t like the idea that trauma and its effects are necessarily immutable parts of someone’s character, and because when we’re talking AUs the antisemitic violence the lanskys experienced in grodno was a very specific moment in history that can’t always be replicated perfectly when translating the character into an AU, i read a significant chunk of meyer’s focus on survival and security as an essential part of his personality. the circumstances around him can influence how he interprets survival and security, but in general, for me, his number one goal is “work towards getting to a position where no one can ever hurt me ever again.”

a sub-trait of this is that he is… extremely stubborn. he’s quiet about it, but he is next to impossible to win a fight with if he really digs his heels in, physically or verbally or whatever. the stubbornness has its roots in the survival motivation, but expresses itself in enough ways that aren’t directly related to survival/security that i think it can be counted as a separate trait. if he gets knocked down in a fight he’s gonna get back up again, he very rarely expresses uncertainty out loud or through body language, he very rarely asks anyone for anything as opposed to [politely, but without giving up ground by putting a question mark on the sentence] stating what he wants and what they’ll get out of it in exchange, and he never ever apologizes. for anything. like he might have apologized once ever in his life and if he did it was to his mom. like i said, this is related to his goal of survival and need for security, in the way that, like… if you can’t be sure of yourself, what can you be sure of? so in his view he is Never Wrong, because he doesn’t think he can afford to be.

trait number three doesn’t exactly help with Never Thinking He’s Wrong because trait number three is that he is Smart. whatever universe, whatever circumstances, he has an analytical outlook and an intellectual curiosity that is… pretty wide-ranging. he’s good at and enjoys math, which is the stand-out thing, because math is hard and it’s the easiest way to express being analytically-minded, so it’s what sticks out to other people the most, but he does just like to read nonfiction and absorb Facts in general. he’s also fairly good at predicting how people will react to things, so he has some degree of… emotional intelligence, i guess? in that he can use previous examples of people’s behavior and reactions to predict how they’ll react to other situations in the future, and he’s able to leverage that analysis of other people to his [and his partners’] benefit.

which leads into trait four, which is the emotional reservedness that i am always torn on how to explain, because to some degree i do think his tendency to limit his emotional expression is an intrinsic trait, but just because he doesn’t outwardly express his emotions as clearly as the people around him [in a way that people other than charlie can clock, anyway] doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it at all. i guess sort of the delineation for me is that meyer’s emotional repression in canon is influenced by his trauma—his strong emotions tend to be a little muted because of his PTSD—but the limited emotional expression is a Pillar Trait—he might be more aware of his feelings in AUs where he has a lesser degree of trauma in his past, but he’s never going to be effusive about them. also he is… way more susceptible to outward expressions of anger in particular than he thinks he is, and he only gets better at restraining his anger after being around AR for a while, for whom that restraint comes a little more naturally. teenager meyer is a tiny ball of rage just waiting for some idiot to give him an excuse to let it out.

SO I THINK THOSE ARE THE BIG FOUR? i can go more in depth with sub-traits, particularly of number one, but suffice it to say that i think most of the sub-traits i can think of are all in service of Attaining Security—as an example, meyer demonstrates a higher consciousness of mainstream acceptability than any of the other baby gangsters do, with the acknowledgement that liquor’s only outlawed temporarily and gambling is also only on the fringes for now but Drugs Are Not Acceptable To Mainstream People, plus his interest in the land in tampa [and later havana] as a pathway to legitimate money via real estate development, and i think that for meyer has its roots not in a need to be Accepted [which i think charlie feels more keenly than meyer does tbh] but in an awareness that, basically, the less you stick out from The Norm, the safer you are. basically, “will it help me survive” will override almost everything else, in terms of “what motivates meyer,” and then the other traits filter in and influence and are influenced by the others.

IN TERMS OF THE VILLAIN THING. that basically comes down to a blend of traits one and two? because he Has To Survive, and the easiest/most sensible path to survival in canon is by doing the organized crime shit—which is not Wrong, because the ultimate goal of EVERYTHING HE DOES is survival, and crime shit enables the survival, but it conflicts with the awareness that by engaging in crime shit, he’s sticking out from the norm, which means there’s a tension between “i have to be secure” and “the actions i’m taking to make myself secure in one respect are making me less secure in another.” the resolution to that tension is not “get out of crime immediately and do something less profitable but more acceptable,” the resolution to that tension is “Everyone Else Is Wrong.” he’s just doing what he needs to do, but if society is going to insist that he’s A Bad Person, then fine, he’s gonna be the best at being bad, and gradually move into more acceptable things, because that’s not an admission that he’s wrong to be doing crime, it’s just a natural progression of his investments. so yeah! hooopefully all that makes sense and jives and i’m not just. rambling. without making sense?

[kass-storycorner]

An unpleasant surprise

I should definitely do my coursework instead of writing this fic, however the idea just came into my head and I couldn’t focus until I wrote this down. Writing this took waaaay longer than I anticpiated and it was way more spontanious... so it’s not proof read or anything, still hope you’ll enjoy it.

The idea/prompt: character is secretly in love with you, but won’t tell you because you are already in a relationship with someone else. Character however finds out that your partner is cheating on you – this is how they would react/act upon finding it out

Word count: 3637 Words (I’m sorry)

Character: Kaeya x gn!reader (in this it’s still very platonic and one sided love) Genre: Angst (?), Hurt, Comfort, even a bit of humour but maybe not, idk haha

Content warnings: cheating, threats, mention of blood and a major injury, mentioning of Dilucs and Kaeyas past, but nothing to explicit (tried to avoid the major spoilers)

Format: The first part / backstory is written in bullet points, but at the end you’ll find a fic written in the normal text format 

He just wanted to drown his sorrows in peace at the Angel’s Share, but no. He had to be witness to that disgusting display of infidelity of your (hopefully soon to be ex-) boyfriend

Kaeya has known you for several years now, both of you started around the same time in the Knights of Favonius. The early years of your training were some of the most fun times Kaeya had- thinking about it always made him smile. Both of you were known from the beginning as rule benders, mostly breakers, within the Knights and if it weren’t for the influence of Kaeyas adoptive family none of you both would’ve gotten that many chances to stay until each of you proved their own worth without familiar ties.

However, in the last few years you both grew a bit more distant. Kaeya blamed himself entirely for it, after Crepus death he knew he should not have any emotional ties to anyone in Mondstadt, at first he ruined the relationship with his brother by telling him the truth. He then just tried to avoid you more and more, which wasn’t easy, because after Diluc quit his position as a Cavalry Captain Kaeya rose up to his position – only to have you as his subordinate.  

It was not until you were on a mission with Kaeya that went horribly wrong, that Kaeya realised his feelings for you never were platonic, he was in love with you since the early days of training.You are his first love.

That mission was more of a secretive one, a few months after Diluc had left Mond and Crepus died, and one of the first bigger outings Kaeya had to lead as a Cavalry Captain. And the first mission without his brother by his side. The dragon Ursa resurfaced and continued to cause harm to the people of Mond, so Grand Master Varka gave Kaeya the responsibility to find that Dragons lair.

Instead of finding the hiding spot of Ursa, Kaeyas troop stumbled into a hiding spot of the, at that point not known as, Abyss order. That was the last time Kaeya went into a mission without information he himself collected and checked, because looking back it was so obviously a trap. How did he not notice it back then?

The fight was brutal and exhausting – somehow it was a miracle that the only Knight dangerously wounded was you. At least that is what the other Knights who were on that mission too would say, thankful that the worst they had to suffer from back then were a few scars at most. Hearing anyone talk about it enraged Kaeya, though he would never show it. It was because you were the most skilled fighter in that troop, even without a Vision Kaeya was sure that at your peak back then you could’ve bested him even now. But because of one of his mistakes, he did not care to watch his own back, maybe because he knew you would protect him, it was you who was injured and not him.

In that moment, seeing you unconscious on the floor laying in your own blood because you protected him, Kaeya understood his feelings for you.

After bringing you back safely to Mondstadt, and you thankfully not dying because of the injuries, Kaeya became even more distant. At first he wished to be able to tell you his true feelings after you’ve woken up, but he just couldn’t. When the healers and doctors gave the news that the injury was so severe that you would never be able to fight again, or even walk down the streets of Mond without being in pain – Kaeya thought the guilt of keeping that secret from Diluc and Crepus for years was unbearable, but the guilt he felt from being responsible for this? It pained him even more.

You stayed in the Knights, taking over administrative tasks and helping every other department of the Knights in the best ways you possibly could.

What surprised Kaeya is that you were never bitter about it. You never said it was Kaeyas fault, even went out of your way to constantly reassure him after you got the news that he shouldn’t blame himself for it (until this day he refuses to listen to you). Your smile and laughter didn’t stop after it, which he never could understand.

How were you able to be so happy and kind when your dream of leading your own troop just – vanished. To travel around Teyvat, see the world. When you weren’t able to do the things, you loved on your own, like going to Windrise to pick some of your favourite flowers.

Somehow, Kaeya thought, it was because of that guy. He never liked your boyfriend to begin with, but Kaeya thought maybe it was his jealousy that clouded his judgement.

He came into your life shortly after the incident and Kaeya remembered the first time he saw you two together – holding hands, you looked so smitten and the way you laughed when he leaned down to whisper something into your ear. After seeing that Kaeya knew he could never have something like this in his life. Not if its not with you.

Kaeya didn’t spend much time with you outside of the Knights anymore, though he would always have a conversation with you when you came up to him or he had to visit your office. Whenever he saw you outside of the Knights, you were always with your boyfriend, sometimes stopping and having a quick chat with Kaeya. Sometimes he wished you would stop being so nice to him.

Now seeing that disgusting piece of shit of a boyfriend sit in the corner of the Angel’s Share, with his hands all over some young thing made Kaeyas blood boil.

How dared he, the man who should be so lucky to have you, have his eyes and hands on another woman.

Also it’s a good thing that Diluc is not at Angel’s Share today, he was also a close friend of you back in the day and even though the friendship with Diluc didn’t survive his three years absence, Diluc would definitely throw that bastard out

Kaeya was astounded by the audacity your boyfriend had. He never had a high opinion of him but seeing that man openly flirt and make out with a woman that was not you, so obvious for everyone to see… in a bar that was frequently visited by your colleagues and friends. If it weren’t for the fact that he was cheating on you Kaeya could maybe muster up some respect for a man who had so clearly a death wish. Eyeing him from the corner of his eye, Kaeya kept observing that situation. How the hands that always held yours in public were touching all over the body of that unknown woman. How the mouth that told you sweet nothings over and over, told you that he loved you, was occupied with kissing the neck of another woman. That whole display just filled Kaeya with disgust. The loud giggles of that woman in his lap filled the Tavern and that was the moment Kaeya decided he had enough. Calmy, he finished his drink, stood up from the bar and made his way over to the table. “You surely don’t mind if I join you two”, Kaeya said in a nonchalant manner, sitting down opposite to the couple. “Oh, Sir Kaeya!”, the young woman giggled, clearly intoxicated, and embarrassed by the way Kaeya eyed the two. Quickly they both shifted, so the woman sat now besides your boyfriend. The way the cheater looked at Kaeya, it was quite amusing. A mix of fear, shock and uneasiness filled the eyes of him. It filled Kaeya with a weird sense of pride, knowing that being caught by him was something that scared him. “Seemed like you two had quite some fun back here”, Kaeya smugly started his interrogation. It was not unusual for Kaeya to use the Angel’s Share as his interrogation room – the casual setting and the alcohol made it so much easier sometimes for people to spill all their secrets. Especially when Kaeya could just be so charming. What Kaeya interested the most was if this was the first offense of the cheater or if that behaviour was a more… regular occurrence. It was at least for him the first time he caught that man red handed. Getting some information out of the girl was quite easy, she was so eager to tell the Cavalry Captain all about the two. Though from what Kaeya gathered the whole thing between her and your boyfriend was quite fresh. “You two really seem like a fitting pair”, Kaeya replied after a long ramble of that woman on how she was just so in love with your boyfriend. His voice sweet and smooth as silk, not showing how the anger inside him grew. It was just not fair, not fair to you. “Hey,” Kaeya began and eyed the empty glasses on the table, looking then back at the woman. “How about another round of drinks, it’s on me. Would you be so kind and go to Charles and order a few?”, again his voice was charming as ever.  “No, no, Sir Kaeya, that’s too kind, but another drink won’t be necessary. It is quite late; don’t you think flower? We should get going”, the cheater chimed in and Kaeya nearly lost his cool when he heard him call the woman ‘flower’. Whenever Kaeya met you and him on his patrols around Mondstadt he always heard him call you ‘flower’. Fucking bastard, is all Kaeya could think before the voice of the woman protested the cheaters concerns. “Nooo, just one more round. How can you turn down Sir Kaeya, love? Just one more, please”, she looked at him with pleading eyes and he just sighted. “Fine”, he said and with that the woman was on her way to the bar. Kaeya now hoped that Charles would keep her occupied long enough so he could find out everything he wants to know from that cheater. His eye shifted from the woman who made her way to the bar to your boyfriend who sat directly across Kaeya. Now completely alone and vulnerable, for his shield left his side. The tension in the air seemed to be unbearable, Kaeya could see how uncomfortable the silence and his curious glance made the cheater. But Kaeya knew – sometimes saying nothing says it all. Helplessly your boyfriend looked over to the bar only to see that the woman he was with was now totally engrossed in a conversation with Charles. After a few minutes, that might have felt like hours to that cheater, he broke the silence. “So,” he tried to start a conversation, clearly not knowing that he fell right into Kaeyas trap. “What gives us the honour to be invited by the Cavalry Captain?”. “Oh, I think you might be smart enough to come up with an answer yourself,” Kaeya replied, keeping up a smile. Though the look in Kaeyas eye was just as cold as the top of Dragonspine, causing the other man to shiver. “As much as it honours me that you think of me this highly, I sadly have no idea what would make the renowned Sir Kaeya sit down at my table tonight.” “Oh, so this is how you want have this conversation”, now his voice was just as cold as his look. “I don’t understand what you mean.” ‘Bullshit’, Kaeya thought. “I’ve been just curious about that woman that just sat so prominently on your lap earlier this evening, she seems to be not the same I saw you hold hands with earlier this day.” “As nice at it is that the Cavalry Captain seems concerned for me, it isn’t one of the Knights duties to pry into the lives of citizens, now, is it?” Oh, how confident the cheater now sounded, thinking he was winning that conversation. Kaeya couldn’t deny that the entire situation made him furious and that he handled it a bit differently than he usually would if he were to talk with drunk treasure hoarders. “Oh, we’re awfully bold now, are we? Believe me the Knights don’t care about your infidelity, though I guess a certain one might find it awfully interesting to know how you spend your nights.” There was a short moment of silences between the two men, the tension just rising. “Well, they wouldn’t believe you. But if you want to go and be a telltale go, I won’t stop you”, the man gave as an answer. His words did not fit his body language – bold words, but his body was tense and Kaeya could see the fear behind the eyes of the man. But it was not fear of losing you, no he seemed to be quite confident that this would not happen. Kaeya said nothing, he just looked at that man, piercing him with his ice cold look. “You see”, he continued, “I wouldn’t be sitting here in Angle’s Share with that lovely company if I thought they might believe the words of any low-rank Knight coming in their office, believing their lies. Quite sad what pranks some people want to play on them, don’t you think?” Slowly, but surely, Kaeya understood that this tonight was definitely not the first offense of that man. And he now understood why most of the Knights here tonight just looked away from the scene, not batting an eye at what was going on. Kaeya could kick himself in the ass, how did he not notice the behaviour of that rodent before him earlier? If he was so open about cheating on you that even most of the other Knights knew, how come that he did not? “And I think its just so sad, that one of the people they hold in such high regards would join in on those baseless accusations, don’t you think Sir Kaeya? I mean it would be so disappointing for them to find out that you tell them such a lie, only because you just don’t like me.” If Kaeya wasn’t a Knight, if he weren’t Kaeya right now, if he hadn’t to uphold a certain image… the floor of the Tavern would be painted with the blood of this absolute bastard. Oh, how Kaeya wished he could lose his cool. “If you say it like that, then I guess I won’t tell them a word,” Kaeya replied. “I’m glad you understand”, the cheater smiled, the fear in his eyes now subsided and he seemed to relax a bit. At that Kaeya just leaned forward, his look cold and his voice even colder. “You are telling them.” The man just scoffed, looking confused at Kaeya. “Why should I?” Kaeya now coming closer, his voice more threatening than before. “Do you really want to find out, if you don’t?”. Kaeya leaned back, smiling and at that moment the woman came back with the drinks. The face of the man was just pale as snow, the fear back in his eyes. “Oh, thank you dear”, Kaeya said when she places his drink before him, and he took a sip. If your boyfriend is smarter than he seemed to be after fooling around with that woman in public, it would do him good to do as Kaeya said.

                                                             -

Dealing with the pain in your leg was something you were used to now for a few years, but the pain in your heart today… you somehow would prefer a broken leg over your shattered heart. Your eyes were fixated on the documents before you, though trough the tears in your eyes you could barley make out what they said. What they were even for. How could you ignore it for so long, that he cheated. That he fooled around with any woman in Mondstadt willing to be with him. This sleezy asshole. The tears fell down on the paper, you couldn’t care right now what important piece of documents you ruined with your tears. How, how, how??? Why were you so stupid to believe him when he always said that all the people that came to you with their concerns must have been mistaken. Why did you believe him over and over again. You couldn’t stop thinking about how the first person coming to you was Outrider Amber, so nervous to even say anything. How you just laughed her worries away, saying she definitely was mistaken. How after Amber again and again told you how sure she was. Had you just listened to her. Then maybe you wouldn’t feel so humiliated. If you just hadn’t listened to that damn liar. In that moment you heard a knock on the door. Quickly you wiped your tears away with your sleeves, clearing your throat. “Come in,” you said, though you were shocked at how hoarse you sounded. Stepping into your office was Kaeya, but when he saw your red eyes and tear stained face, he quickly closed the door behind him. “Are you alright?”, he asked in such a soft and kind voice. Since you woke up in the infirmary all those years ago you hadn’t heard him talk in that voice. You couldn’t help it, it made you immediately tear up again. Throwing your head into your hands you just couldn’t stop the uncontrollably sobs that took over you. You didn’t even notice that Kaeya was kneeling beside your chair until he felt his hand on your back. “Hey,” you heard him say, again in this soft voice. “It’s alright, let it out.” And you did. For a while you just sat there, crying and sobbing until you ran empty. The whole time Kaeya was on your side, saying nothing. He was just there and somehow, even after you two grew apart in the past years, after all that happened – Crepus death, Dilucs disappearance and return, your injury. Even after all it did not feel awkward to just cry and look for comfort at his side. After all, you still were friends. Slowly you calmed down, looking up to him. “I was so stupid, Kaeya. So many people came to me, told me what they saw, who he was and I- I just ignored it. I ignored it all, my feelings and-“, you felt the lump in your throat, making you stop speaking. It was just too much. “You’re not stupid,” he said, taking you in his arms. It felt so good to just melt into the hug. Just trying to forget the pain for a few seconds, slipping back into the familiarity of Kaeya you haven’t felt in such a long time.

Kaeya on the other hand couldn’t stop asking himself if what he’s doing here was alright. Was it okay to comfort you, he asked. If he hadn’t basically threatened your, obviously now, ex-boyfriend last night to tell you the truth, he might have been met with your bright smile today and not that painful expression. But it was the right thing to do, you deserved to know. You deserved for that guy to tell you, although he should have told you the truth out of his own free will. Not because Kaeya got involved. “Thank you”, he heard you mumble into his chest. “For what?” he asked, both of you now parting from the hug. “For just… for being here. And for being a friend”, you answered, again wiping tears away. Kaeya couldn’t help himself and chuckled at that statement. A friend, yeah. That is what he was and what he must be fine with. However, he didn’t really expect you to view him as one, after all that happened and how much he tried to avoid you in the past. “Well, I have been an awful friend the last years, haven’t I?”. Your eyes shot up, looking directly into his eye. “No, what makes you think that?”. You genuinely looked surprised at his statement. “Well,” he gestured towards your leg. Before he could even say anything, he felt your hands cup his face and looking at him sternly. “Kaeya Alberich, how often do I have to tell you this. What happened to my leg is not your fault, please stop taking blame for it. It was my choice to join you on that mission.” For a short while you both just looked into each other’s eyes until Kaeya couldn’t stand it anymore, a sigh leaving him, and he looked away. “How come that I want to comfort you and you just end up telling me something I just can’t seem to learn.” He stood up and then he saw it. You smiled at him. A sad smile, but a smile, nonetheless. “One day you’ll hopefully learn it”, you said. “Now, to make up for this”, pointing at your leg, trying to joke, “and for threatening a Mondstadt citizen, I think you should get me something from Good Hunter.” Kaeya was surprised. How did you know? He couldn’t even ask you, you already gave him the answer to the question that was so clearly written all over his face. “He literally begged me, after telling me the truth and breaking up with me, that I made sure you wouldn’t hurt him.” Now Kaeya gave out a small laugh, partially because he felt a bit embarrassed by you knowing, but also the thought of that arrogant asshole being so afraid of him amused Kaeya. “And, what did you tell him”, he asked, now back with his more playful tone. “Mmmmmh, I told him I’ll think about it.”

[apples-r-rubbish]

John (11 x reader) Part 1

Summary: The doctor was being tracked. So he decided to become John to blend into a small town. It would only be 6 months he said. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: violence mention and knives and angst  AN: Hi! First fic ever uploaded to tumblr so I’m excited. Hopefully this is good and isn’t too long. Part 2 and 3 should be up soon. Hope you like it!! Also I wrote the reader as female in this so sorry, I’m going to try to be more inclusive in later fics :,)

It had been 2 years, 3 months and 16 days since you’d all arrived in the 1920s, in a quaint little village in the south. You had also been told it would be a maximum of 6 months you would spend here, and boy, how the Doctor was wrong. He was being hunted, by a species that wanted to harvest timelord energy so they could learn to regenerate. So he’d picked a random village and a random time period, given you all jobs, and rewritten his own biology in an attempt to stay safe.

“I’m going undercover as a human, I’m rewriting my genetic code to stay safe, everything non-human about me will be held in this watch, and hidden somewhere linked to me, there will be another fake one hidden with me or on the TARDIS. I won’t recognise it, I’ll barely acknowledge it, or just enough to the point where fake me won’t think there’s anything off about it.” He explained slotting the watch into a rather aggressive looking head contraption, and throwing a device at Amy “I’m becoming John Smith, a history teacher at a local grammar school, Amy and Rory, your job is to track the thing, it has a unique energy signature with that device. Rory you work in the local hospital and Amy you work in a shop. (Y/N), your job is to keep an eye out for me, make sure John doesn’t do anything ridiculous, or fall in love or in a deep hole he can’t get out of. You’re the secretary at the grammar school,”

You cringed at memories as you sat in bed. Thinking over the last 2 years and everything that had happened since, it was all a distant memory now.

“The TARDIS will be in an emergency state if you need her. I won’t know you or remember you. It’s to keep you safe and for your own good. It’ll be six months, at maximum, nothing to worry about, Ponds, (L/N),” he smiled cautiously as he put the device on his head. The thing connected as he screamed, and shook, the agony in face unbearable. 

Eventually, you decided you had to get up so you didn’t lose your job, you put on a dress, strapped a cautionary knife to your leg for protection along with the sonic screwdriver so you knew it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands or  just in case the thing decided to attack today. You walked to the school. The village was fairly spread out but with limited people, less than 1000 people, everyone knew at least something about everyone apart from the few of you that had been welcomed two years prior. God how you missed Uber, and being able to go on regular runs without judgement. 

When you arrived you stored your coat and bag in a storage room, making polite conversation with your coworkers in your office. John wandered in and smiled at you. “Hello, Miss (L/N), how are you doing today?” He was more posh in this version of himself, he sounded southern and as if he had been educated at the grammar school years prior. 

“I’m very well, sir, just a little tired today. How about yourself?” You had also taken this time as an opportunity to sound more from the time period, to blend in and look more authentic compared to your back story that was full of holes. 

“Good good, sounds like you need more sleep-” He paused upon realising the implications of his words “I- I didn’t mean anything like that, I meant perhaps-” He was like this a lot, he stumbled over himself. Not as confident as the doctor in far too many areas. “Nevermind, Mr Smith, I knew what you meant. What did you come in here for?” you lips pursed together, when he had his memories back you were going to slap him so painfully hard he’d regenerate. He may have had the doctor’s face however, he was not him. Maybe this version of the doctor had taken a liking to you, more than the actual Doctor ever would. You had to stick close to him so you allowed it, although it was painful at points seeing a man you had fallen in love with, finally acknowledge your existence as someone else.

“I needed to check the staff file and I just wanted to chat with you.” So you talked for a while. 

The school day went by relatively smoothly apart from a student vomiting in the hallway, and two students almost getting into a fight, everything seemed standard, as the previous 837 days had. Nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The village was small and were grateful for that, all the shops were local and the furthest house was a 45 minute walk away. Ultimately, you had decided to visit Amy and Rory as you did most nights as they understood the pain you were going through, trapped away from your time period without your family, and closest friend, whilst also being tracked by an alien. 

“-and then he looked at me and said I needed to get more sleep,” You said between sips of wine and painful laughs

“I can’t believe he struggles with social interaction more as an actual human rather than a timelord,” Amy laughed, this was the tradition, when Rory was working the nightshift, one of you would visit the other, and you’d laugh and drink together.

“At least you get to see him consistently,” Amy added, “We barely do. Rory sees him maybe once every few weeks down at the pub, and I see him when he comes into the shop or at the hall. You at least consistently know he’s safe and happy,”

“Yeah but it’s not exactly him is it. It’s like you see a picture of someone before you know them, like you can acknowledge it’s them but they’re just missing the odd piece to them, like the smile isn’t quite wide enough or their hair is parted differently. It’s a version of him, without him. Without the timelordy, alieny bits,” 

“Maybe so, but it’s something, and we don’t have a lot else right now,”

“God, I can’t wait to wear pants and jeans when we get back to our time,” You said standing and embracing Amy in a warm hug “I need to go home and get some sleep, long day tomorrow, my turn to check. Thanks for having me, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When you had arrived home, that's when you saw him, a boy from the school outside your door, mindlessly staring through one of your windows.

“Edward Gray, dear? Are you alright? What are you doing here?” You asked panic rising quietly through you

Seemingly snapping out of his trance “Huh? Nothing Miss, I must’ve got a bit lost and confused, that’s all,” He said rubbing his temples, the expression he gave you didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was struggling to believe the words himself. 

“You might want to get home, make sure your mother knows you're safe. We don’t want her up worrying all night now do we? Run along dear,” You said as you unlocked your house and he turned and ran. 

You settled into bed for the night, pulling out a notebook and writing down bits from your previous adventures you could remember, it wasn’t for Amy and Rory you would've been doubting the validity of your stories and doubting that the alien had even existed at all, and wasn’t just a random man from your work who paid attention to you, smiled at your jokes, and whose eyes were full of mystery.

More dreams, more memories, more days. You woke up with a jump, your alarm surprising you. More morning rituals. Breakfast, check. Shower and brushed teeth, check. Dressed, check. Knife, check. Sonic, check. It was a friday so it was your turn to check the TARDIS. It was abandoned in a shed in one of the in one of the many fields surrounding the village that had long been forgotten. She wheezed slightly when you entered, a half asleep acknowledgment of someone else’s company.

“Hello dear, I’ve missed you too,” You said in response, a tinge of sadness in your voice, another sleep wheeze escaped from the console. You replayed the message the doctor had given you. He animatedly explained all the points, once again, like clockwork: village, 20s, hunted, six months, keep watch, pears, stay safe, teaching, secretary, shop, six months. Nothing had changed, you kept quietly wishing for the audio to alter, or the video to change, it never did. It was still the same video, and your alien bestfriend promised 6 months and nothing more.

Somehow, you had managed to arrive early to work. The majority of your colleagues had not yet arrived. In moments like this you had begun reading in classrooms, specifically, John’s. There was something comforting about it, perhaps it was the doctor’s energy. Quiet times like this helped usually, sometimes they made the situation worse, the silence was sometimes unbearable as thoughts of your future life rumbled around your head. You had positioned yourself near a window and pulled out a copy of the Great Gatsby. Whilst you were engrossed in your book, the door opened silently, John slipping in without you noticing

“Miss (L/N)? What are you doing here?” He whispered, his eyes staring deep into your soul, at times like this, he was almost the doctor. You jumped, the sudden noise surprising you

“Ah, sorry, John, dear. I was just reading, I had a bit of time before the day began,” You started 

“It’s alright, no need to apologize. What are you reading?’

“Mr Fitzgerald’s new book, I have heard nothing but good things,” 

“Ah, I prefer the classics, great expectations and such.” Even as a human he was still so much of the doctor. 

You stood up suddenly “Anyway, I need to go. I have my duties to attend to.”

John rambled “Stay! If you want to- I mean- if you would like you can stay here and read, I don’t mind and I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind, I’ll convince them it was my idea. even though it was anyway,”

You considered it for a brief moment, you shook your head, “I can’t, I have particularly busy day,”

“At least let me walk you home tonight then, if you’re busy throughout the day. I enjoy your company,” he said with a wink and then he caught himself and looked shocked that he had actually just done that.

“Fine. I finish at 5. But you must know the neighbours will talk,” You said in attempt to deter him

“Oh, let them, this small town loves gossip,” John smiled in a very doctorish manner. You nodded slightly. A small smile graced your lips, a tinge of sadness in your eyes, you prayed he wouldn't notice as you turned to leave the room. You didn’t see him silently stick his hand out in an attempt to comfort you, over feelings he would have no concept of. John Smith and his small smiles and sweet talk would be the death of you. The Almost Doctor. So close yet, so far out of reach.

You had the trouble of organising staff schedules that week and planning and writing assemblies for other teachers, you didn’t mind though it kept you busy. 

“(Y/N), did you hear Edward Gray hasn’t shown up today,” One of your colleagues Mrs. Price had said, she was elderly woman, her hair greying slightly, her glasses rested on a chain that was always around your neck

“That’s peculiar, he was outside my house last night,” You began as you explained to the other woman. She sat in an awkward silence afterwards.

“According to his mother, he did get home ok, he just came in this morning. Must’ve just decided he wanted to wander the woods for a break,” She said with a nervous laugh and you followed suit before going back to clicking away at your typewriter. 

The day eventually ended at 5pm as you said a brief weekly farewell to the other office staff members before heading to the front of the building. John Smith was stood at the front he gave you a wide small and small wave that you returned

“Mr Smith,” You said with a smile as you approached him

“Miss (L/N).”

On the way home, you chatted about anything and everything, you trying to fix the holes in your double life story, and the chameleon arch filling in the gaps in his. You were simply two half strangers sharing half truths with one another. If the Doctor were actually here he’d laugh. Occasionally, neighbours would nod their heads towards you in acknowledgment, none of them stopping to talk. One neighbor seemed off, you believed his name was Mr Roscoe and he was an older man from the village. He made intense eye contact with you both before bumping into the doctor aggressively, squaring up to him.

“Timelord, your days will soon be up. We will have your secrets soon enough,” Roscoe hissed. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, you pulled the knife from your leg and pointed it at Mr Roscoe’s throat. 

“Good, God Miss (L/N), where did you- what’s going on? Why do you have a knife?” John stammered the chameleon arch kicking into overdrive. 

“Shut up,” You snapped, he opened his mouth to speak, he decided against it, then closed it again. You turned your attention back to the older gentleman, “Leave him be. He is not what you are after. This is your final warning, approach any of us again and this knife is going right in one of your vital organs. Clear? Or will I have to do it as a warning?” You snarled anger rising with each word edging the knife close to the man as you waved it for emphasis.

“Crystal,” The man replied, void of tone. Before turning and walking away sending a sharp glare in your direction as he wandered off

“Do you mind if we visit your house instead I have a phone call to make?” You asked the knife away, smiling and acting like nothing had occurred, slipping your arm back around John’s. John simply stammered in agreement, still not entirely grasping the intensity of the situation.

John’s house was rather large for him, he’d claimed it was far too big for one person and that he ought to let it out, but it was close to his job and he could afford it and that he also preferred his own company. 

You waited until he left his kitchen to call Amy,

“Hello, this is Amelia Williams,” She chimed

“Red, wolf, now,” You said breathlessly, it was code, you had invented, between the three of you, if people were around that couldn’t know about the predicaments you faced, such as John you would use it. Red was danger, wolf was alien.  She breathed a curse into the phone

“You’re safe, I presume, stay that way and with him, time to locate the pin and the needle,” more code, you simply said a quiet yet nervous ‘yes’ into the phone. The pin being the watch, the needle being a decoy.

“What about your job? 2 years, wolf tracking was up to you,” You hissed

“I’m sorry. I think the battery died long ago, we have no idea how to charge it even with the TARDIS. Plus, he never gave us an explanation of how to use it,” You mumbled a brief apology for hissing and hung up, after she had made sure you were fine, in the overly complex code, you former companions shared. 

“What was that about?” John asked reentering the kitchen and breaking you from your thoughts holding some glasses, a bottle and packet of cigarettes. “Sorry, just a small code with a code with a friend, letting her know I’m safe and with a friend incase she gets worried or tries to visit,” You explained quickly

He smiled at that, maybe he had bought it, maybe not, “You’re so intelligent.” He breathed half to himself, half to you “Come on time for a smoke and a drink to calm us down after that, erm, experience,” 

You sat next to eachother on one of the few steps that led to his garden. “So why do you carry a knife?” Was the first question out of his mouth after he’d poured drinks

“An old friend, he had some issues, told me to protect myself, I just felt I needed to make sure I was safe,” You replied simply, “And I hate guns, so a knife had to do,”

“In the 2 years I have known you, (Y/N), I’ve learnt very little about you, other than today.” He sighed 

“You don’t need to know a lot, there’s not a lot I can tell you really, a fairly ordinary life,” 

“Do you smoke?” He said offering you the box, with a smile you accepted one and lit it, 

“Not often, we’ll have to share this one, I can’t handle full ones this late.” You passed it back to him “my friend wouldn’t approve so I try to not,” 

“Well you have to make your own decisions,”

“He wouldn’t approve of you offering, I mean” You corrected “Also maybe not me accepting,” 

“I need to tell you something,” He began, “I have these dreams- and they’re about the future and they involve you and that quiet couple from the village. We travel to other worlds and I’m from another planet and we try to save people.  And it matches some of what Mr Roscoe had said. How crazy is that?”

Shit. You hadn’t considered dreams “Well ultimately dreams are the subconscious filling the space so I would imagine it is perfectly normal thing to dream. And as for Mr Roscoe, he’s a confused old man, I doubt he even realised what he said, John,” You laughed nervously, the chameleon arch had already started fixing the damage

“You can stay overnight, if you’d like I have a guest bedroom set up and some spare toiletries, just so you’re not worried about getting home. Mr Roscoe put the fear of God in us earlier and I wouldn’t like that to happen again, especially if you’re walking home” Even now, when he wasn’t himself, he was still unbelievably kind.

“Ok, then I’ll stay,” You nodded, you did not want another Edward Gray situation

“So this friend of yours. Would he approve of you staying the night? Does he approve of much? It certainly doesn’t seem it,”

“Perhaps he would. Maybe with you, maybe not, it's difficult to say. He doesn’t approve of much and yet many things. Kindness and eccentricity are two things he absolutely loves. He’s a good man, a kind man,” You tried to explain, taking the cig back “He’s a pacifist. And when he smiles the stars seem to align. We travel together. Or rather we used to before I settled here. I’m waiting for him to come back.”

“Oh are you and him-”

“Uh, no, absolutely not. I did see him like that, he did not see me that way. He has no reason to, he carries the stars with him and the world on his shoulders. He’s got enough to worry about without me,” you stated, a small tear slipping from your eyes, John wiped it away quickly , taking the cigarette back and finishing it

“I mean, perhaps he could, view you like that. If I were him and I know I could never be, I wouldn’t hesitate. You’re wonderful, kind and beautiful, intelligent and astonishingly brave,” John smiled “and if he can’t see that, I’m sure someone else will.” 

The silence after his words was comfortable. You didn’t quite expect it. The ferocious love in his voice, the warmth and kindness. It seemed so disjointed from the normal, nervous and awkward John. You rested your head against him, a form of acceptance to his words. He wrapped his long since abandoned jacket around you, along with his arm, trying to shield you from the cold. The drinks had been finished a while,  and cigarettes long since burned to ash. You stayed that way for a while, at least in that hidden moment you could pretend it was him and that things weren’t about to turn terrible. At least you had now and the steps in his garden long after dark.

PART 2

[vexing-imogen]

the persistence of 6/?

read from beginning | read on ao3

Vex doesn’t intend on leaving the manor grounds, not at first. She’s in a new city, despite having lived here for several years, and getting herself lost would only serve to panic everyone, and would be rather humiliating to boot. But, even with Trinket at her side, the garden that was so inviting last night has become unbearable. Oppressive.

She’s suffocating. So while she knows that leaving is probably a bad idea, she can’t bring herself to stay.

She stands, using Trinket’s shoulder for leverage, then scratches him behind the ears. “Let’s go for a walk, buddy.”

It’s still early enough that the streets are near deserted. The few people Vex does pass as she wanders give her a wave or a nod and go about their business. She deliberately avoids the streets that will take her back to the town square and those unnerving statues. There’s a castle on a hilltop to the north, so she sets off in that direction, her interest piqued.

She loses track of time while walking, and eventually she stops to take a break by a wrought iron gate. A faded signpost pointing to the right reads “To the Zenith and the Greyfield”. A raven caws, and she feels a pull in her chest, as if her subconscious is telling her that the answers she need lie at the end of this path.

Trinket makes a mournful noise as she walks through the gate and starts down the path, but he follows dutifully, glancing about for anything untoward. It is kind of creepy, she will admit. They pass a temple first, large and very old. The Zenith, if she had to guess. The sun shines through the stained glass window as she passes, bathing her in warm, colored light, and she places her hand to her heart and bows without thinking. A chill runs down her spine, but she shakes it off and keeps going.

The Greyfield is a cemetery, she finds. The eerie silence is only broken by the occasional raven’s cry. And if she’d thought the city was overpopulated with ravens, it’s nothing compared to this. The main group of them seem to be clustered around a mausoleum on the far end of the field, and her curiosity outweighs any fear she might be feeling.

There’s no name carved into the stone, no indication of it belonging to anyone in particular. The door is open, and she ventures inside. The air is cold and stale, and she realizes that someone has set this place up as a shrine of some kind. There’s an altar laid out in the center of the room, adorned with ravens feathers, small white flowers, and a bowl of some dark liquid. She dips a couple fingers in it. It’s cold and viscous and is most definitely blood.

She stares at her fingers, at the blood that drips from them onto the marble floor, an uneasy pit settling in her stomach. “What the fuck is this place?”

“Creepy, isn’t it?”

Vex shrieks and spins around, her heart racing in her chest. Keyleth is there in the doorway, regarding the mausoleum with disdain.

“Sorry,” she says, wincing. “I promise this place isn’t actually as bad as it looks.”

Vex takes a couple of deep breaths. “What is it?”

“A temple to the Raven Queen,” Keyleth says, and Vex doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice, or the way she refuses to actually step into the space. “Percy had this repurposed for Vax, so he’d have a place to worship while he was in Whitestone.”

She doesn’t miss the way Keyleth hesitates before saying her brother’s name.

“You love him, don’t you?” she asks. “Vax.”

The way Keyleth’s eyes widen is all the answer she needs, but she nods after a moment. “It, uh, didn’t exactly work out, but...yeah.”

“Didn’t work out,” Vex repeats. “Did it have anything to do with Her?” She nods towards the shrine.

Keyleth laughs, wipes away a tear. “Yeah, you could say that.” She sighs. “It’s...complicated. He had to go. To serve Her. And I couldn’t follow.”

Vex hugs Keyleth tight. “I’m sorry, darling. I can kick his ass for you the next time I see him, if you’d like.”

Keyleth shrinks back out of Vex’s embrace. “That won’t be necessary. It’s fine, really. I’ve...made my peace with it.”

Liar she thinks, but she doesn’t push. “I guess we should probably go back, shouldn’t we?”

Keyleth takes her hand as they walk through the cemetery. “How are you feeling?”

She sighs, tries to ignore the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Lost,” she says finally. “Have you ever...had a word caught on the tip of your tongue, and you know you should know it, and you know that once you hear it you’ll remember, and you’ll feel so fucking stupid for ever forgetting it?”

Keyleth nods.

“That’s what this feels like,” she continues. “Except it’s not just one word, it’s five years of my life, and I don’t know if I’ll ever actually remember.”

“We’ll figure this out, Vex,” Keyleth says, squeezing her hand. “There’s a solution out there, I know there is, we just have to find it.” She stops them, cups Vex’s face in her hands. “I promise you, we will fix this.”

Vex sniffles, looks away from her friend’s earnest gaze. “That’s what you all said yesterday.”

=============================================================

Percy feels like he’s going mad with worry. Sure, Vex is more than capable of taking care of herself, and Keyleth had done a quick scry before going off to find her, and assured him that she was fine. But he’s still tense and anxious, and he’s going to wear a groove in the floorboards if he doesn’t stop pacing soon.

They’d all been so confident in Pike, in her healing abilities, that none of them had been prepared for the spell to not work. Except for Vex he thinks. She’d accepted defeat so easily, seemed to have almost been expecting it, and that’s what has him truly scared. He’s never witnessed Vex give up quite so fast, and he doesn’t know what it means.

For him. For her. For them...

A knock on the doorframe jolts him out of his thoughts. Scanlan is standing there with a sad smile. “Hey. I managed to calm Pike down,” he starts. “She should be coming back soon enough. I think she was going to have a little chat with Sarenrae. How’s Vex?”

Percy shrugs. “Not sure,” he admits. “She took off just after you and Pike left. Didn’t say where she was going. Keyleth had to scry to find out where she’d gone.”

Scanlan nods, taps his foot nervously. “I had an idea,” he says. “And obviously we’d have to run it by Vex, and if you guys say ‘no’ I’ll never bring it up again-”

“Scanlan.” Percy cuts off his rambling. “What was your idea?”

The gnome sighs. “If, for whatever reason, there’s absolutely no way to restore Vex’s memories, I thought I could maybe use Modify Memory on her. To give her a highlight reel of the last few years. It would take some time, and I can’t give her everything, but she’d have something back. The important stuff, at least.”

Percy’s so overwhelmed with emotion, he does the first thing that comes to his mind. He hugs Scanlan.

“Can you really do that, Scanlan?”

Percy’s head snaps up. Vex is standing just beyond the doorway with Keyleth and Pike. He doesn’t want to jinx anything, but she looks almost hopeful.

“I can,” Scanlan says, turning to face her. “But only with your consent. And you’d have to trust that we wouldn’t give you any false or altered memories.”

She mulls it over for a minute. “I’ll have to think it over,” she says. “But, no matter what, it’s an incredibly sweet offer, Scanlan.”

“It might not even be necessary,” Pike says, stepping forward. “I spoke with Sarenrae, for a while, and she told me what we have to do to get Vex’s memories restored.”

“That’s great, Pike,” Keyleth says. “What do we have to do?”

Pike sighs. “Well, the reason my spell didn’t work is because Sarenrae doesn’t have dominion over memories. The Raven Queen does,” she explains. “I’ve been able to restore memories before because the effect was smaller, in Percy and Grog’s case, or it was a physical ailment, like the Gith we met in Pandemonium. What happened to Vex was bigger, and magical. It’s not something Sarenrae or I can fix.”

“But the Raven Queen can?” Percy guesses.

“Yes.” Pike looks up at Vex. “If you’re willing to try, I already got in touch with the Raven Queen’s temple in Vasselheim. We can go as early as tomorrow, and hopefully they can cure you.”

“I think it’s worth a shot,” Percy says. “But the choice is yours, dearest.”

Vex looks uncertain until her attention is caught by something outside. Percy follows her gaze to Vesper, playing in the garden with Rika. He looks back to Vex, and she nods once, firmly. “I suppose there’s no harm in trying.”

=============================================================

Her dreams that night are horrific. There’s no visual, just pitch darkness, but the voices are as clear as day. And they’re all awful.

The first is her brother, and she can almost feel him grasping her hand. Do not go far from me. If we are out of earshot, you are too far from me. Do not go far from me.

Her own tearful response. Do you think this is what mother saw before she died?

The next is a voice she doesn’t recognize, but it sends chills down her spine, sickly and oozing. Sweet, broken Vex’ahlia... a question, from her What would you ask in return? him again Your heart.

My heart is someone else’s.

Scanlan calling for her from across a battlefield. Her sobbing, casting healing spells uselessly into an unresponsive body. I’m not leaving Percy!

A cold room, a colder feeling in her chest. Desperate to do something, anything. But I don’t want to be here if you’re not. Whitestone still needs you, darling. I still need you here.

Grog’s voice, loud. Angry. Devastated. FIX HIM!

Then herself again. Having a conversation with someone, but the replies are static.

I feel like she’s taking part of me away.

I don’t know how to live.

Please. I love you. I don’t accept this.

I’m going to find you.

And, finally, on a maddening loop.

Where’s Vax?

Where’s Vax?

Where’s Vax?

Where’s Vax?

She wakes from her nightmares with a scream, thrashing against the confines of her blanket. Her foot connects with something, and Percy grunts.

“Vex’ahlia.” His hands on her shoulders ground her. “It’s alright, dear, you’re alright. It was just a dream.”

She catches his hand as it’s running through her hair. “Percy.” She stares at him, tears flowing, the weight of the truth threatening to crush her. “I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“You have to promise you’ll tell me the truth,” she says. “Swear to me that you won’t lie to me.”

She sees the realization dawn in his eyes, but he nods. “I swear, Vex. I swear on our wedding vows that I will not lie to you.”

“Is my brother dead?”

[xxskycrystalxx]

My Thoughts on ADOW S2

I had been waiting for the day s2 came out for essentially two years. I had been very excited and was absolutely ecstatic when the show came out on Friday. Luckily enough I was able to watch all ten episodes in two days and by the end of it I was absolutely overwhelmed by how good this season was and what a spectacular job the actors/actresses did. Many questions are running by in my mind, and I’m now very adamant on reading all three books because I just can’t get enough of adow! But enough of my ramblings. Time to get into my thoughts of adow s2!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

First off, Diana & Matthew’s relationship is as strong as ever and I’m honestly just absolutely taken with them. Their love for one another is amazing and the way they keep each other grounded and heal each others’ scars was heart-warming. There’s too many of their moments in this season that I loved wholeheartedly but their time in Sept-Tours were honestly my favorite. Especially when it came to bonding with Philippe, and how Diana found out about the blood rage illness and how she was able to bring him out of it (swoons).

Not Diana being an absolute bad*** this season and that she and Matthew are an absolute power couple. 🔥

When it comes to Philippe, I was quite certain that I wasn’t going to like him and that was the truth until we found out about his true intentions and how willing he was to accept Diana into his family and the affection he had for Matthew as a father and to think that he died a horrible death when in fact he was a caring, kind, and respectable person.

Gallowglass has certainly become one of my favorite characters in the show, he’s like a breath of fresh air. And it doesn’t help that I rlly like Scottish characters. They’re just more up-beat, likable, and fun! I really liked the relationship between Matthew and him, like brothers basically even though Gallowglass is his nephew. And his relationship with Diana was quite nice, they really hit it off and the way he called Diana “auntie” later on was absolutely hilarious. 

Kit Marlowe & Louisa De Clermont. My goodness I thought Peter Knox was bad but holy crap those two are the literal worst! Seeing as that Kit is supposed to be Matthew’s good friend and wasn’t inherently a horrible person, I expected more from him. He just became unbearable every time he blatantly disrespected Diana and refused to acknowledge the relationship between her and Matthew and nonetheless planned to kill her with Matthew’s sister! Despicable. They got what they got at the end.

Then there’s the fact that Diana’s pregnant and I’m so happy for them! But knowing what awaits them when they time walk back into the present, I fear that that might affect that. Hopefully not. (also did I say how much I loved the fact that Matthew & Diana basically adopted Jack as their own son and how sad I was when they had to leave him?)

Marcus & Phoebe? Cute.

I really hope Em doesn’t die. I haven’t read the books yet so I don’t know what will happen to her but she doesn’t deserve to die so I hope they don’t go there. 

Will we see Gallowglass again in the present? What’s up with Benjamin and what’s his role in S3 because he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Teresa Palmer & Matthew Goode being that iconic duo and bringing us the Diana & Matthew we know and love. I love them 🥺💕

Have I mentioned how much I love this season and why it’s literally the best?

that’s honestly about all that I can say for now about my thoughts on s2, it came out longer than I expected, but it is what it is lol. 

[inquiries-for-ezra]

I came across this frequency earlier this evening and just now had the time to send this communiqué. How are you stranger? I find myself curious as to the nature of the person on the other end of this stream. And about your situation. What nature of moon is the Green? I can’t say I’ve come across such a thing in my readings. Answer back when you have the opportunity. I look forward to receiving your transmission.

Sincerely yours,

🐺

That’s a tall order of questions, Wolf. A dangerous thing to give to a man who’s got nothing but time and very little else to fill it with.

Don’t get me wrong, I am very grateful for the distraction. I just worry I’ll take up too much of your time. 

But we shall strive for briefness and conciseness, fail spectaculary, but hopefully end up somewhere short of “unbearably long-winded”. And if not, I assume whatever device you’re using has a mute function. I promise I won’t take offense if you wanna utilize that.

I’m gonna skip your first question and save it for later. Because if I start talking too much about how I’m doing we’re gonna dig ourselves into a hole I won’t escape from with my dignity intact. So forgive me for that.

You said you were curious about me and well... there’s your first tidbit of information. I’m a man prone to occasionally letting my emotions get the better of me. For better or worse, I suppose. Inherited that particular trait from my dear mother. Kevva bless her soul.

It’s partly what got me into this mess to begin with. Although...and I suppose it’s difficult to check the validity of my statement, since I’m the only one still alive... I was not the main instigator of that particular blowout. Once I realized what was going on though...I got scared. And if I am to give you one lesson to take with you from all my rambling, Wolf...it’s that scared men do bad things.

You asked what the Green is like. The Green... is like a beautiful woman whose lips are laced with poison. From afar, she’ll render you speechless with her beauty but get too close and she’ll attempt to take your life.

In plainer words, The nature here is gorgeous and lush but the air is poisonous and deadly. Wouldn’t recommend it as a vacation spot.

And now for the final or first question, depending on how you look at it. I’m...not doing great, Wolf. I’ve been on this moon for longer than I dare to think about and hope is fickle at the best of times. I got enough supplies to scrape by, but what kind of existence is this? I have a whole moon... almost all to myself and yet I feel claustrophobic.

These messages...they bring me more joy than I can fully explain, Without them, I surely would have drifted off into madness by this point. So my sincerest thanks for sending me this. I...

Now what about you, Wolf? If you’re still listening... How far has my transmission reached? Are you on a ship? Different planet? I beg, give me something new, even if it’s just something to imagine.

[k-s-morgan]

1)Katrin that snippet was absolutely fantastic! It shows how Tom’s sociopathy is not only a weapon but also a hindrance. His brain truly cannot compute the idea of not being able to get what he wants even though he is trying so hard. I almost feel the bafflement and genuine frustration. And I think this represents how undeveloped he is in certain aspects (emotions) despite his innate genius. I’m almost expecting him to sit on the floor and cry his eyes from distress.

2) All this to say that I like the way you represent his sociopathic tendencies. Since the media either obscenely romanticizes it or vilifies it to a comic degree. It’s like living in a world only consisting of blue and red and then suddenly the color green appears. And that’s how foreign Tom feels when trying to blend in to a society that is wired differently than his brain. And that’s how you show Tom in your story neither condoning nor condemning but showing as is.

3) Also I feel so sorry for Harry all these years and he doesn’t even have an adult friend who can relate to him. That must be so isolating no matter how much he loves Tom. And I think Tom will seriously need to grow to really earn Harry’s vulnerable open side. I’m sorry for rambling so much and always asking stuff hopefully its not too annoying 🙈I’m glad that your other pigeon is better! And I’m so very excited for the next chapter

I feel bad for Harry because he doesn’t have someone his age to relate to or vent to it must be really hard for him ): And I feel really bad for Tom because it feels like he’s one breath away from having a full mental breakdown. But Tom definitely needs to grow emotionally if he wants to fit the role of the “carer provider” because Harry can do that by himself but he needs the emotional support. Also will Tom get to learn about all of Harry’s crazy school shenanigans?

-------------------------

Hello! I hope you don’t mind that I added your last ask to first these three)) I must say that I’m amazed at how accurately you described the whole scene along with Tom’s and Harry’s states of mind. I honestly didn’t realize you could get it all from that snippet, but this is exactly what the entire 3K of their conversation is about. You are absolutely right, Tom’s brain just doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to deal with rejection. He’s trying to talk Harry into agreeing, applying all possible tactics he can think of, from sweetness to aggression, from threats to remorse, and the more he fails, the more desperate he becomes because he genuinely doesn’t get it. Your words about crying were very accurate, too - Tom indeed approaches this verge in the new chapter because this whole situation is unbearable to him. He can’t get the thing he wants most, and it’s driving him mad as giving up is simply not in his nature, but at the same time, he has no idea what else he can do. I loved your color metaphor - it’s extremely fitting, and I’m really happy you like the way I try to portray Tom’s mindset. 

You are also 100% correct about Tom needing to grow and Harry being too isolated (even if he chose it himself) and thus lonely and lost. It’s like you read what I wrote already :D For now, Tom is not mature enough to be Harry’s partner, and he’ll have to work hard to change this impression.

I can’t say more because that would mean getting into spoilers, but let me just say that I truly loved these asks and the amazingly accurate insight behind them!) 

[fourdaysofrain]

Friend of a Friend

Summary: Five times Tony Stark visited May Parker, and one time she went to see him. 

(In this house, we love and respect May Parker and bumbling co-parent Tony Stark)

Read on AO3

one: on first impressions

“Iron Man!”

The woman who opened the door is younger than he expected. She’s wearing an apron covered in flour and when she notices him looking, she nervously tries to wipe it off. Maybe Tony should have called ahead. Or at least given her more time to prepare than just knocking on her door. To be fair, he’s got a few things on his mind right now. At least falling into the public-eye persona he uses is still as easy as ever. 

“Ms. Parker, nice to meet you.” He keeps his tone carefully charming and cordial. ”Normally when I’m out of the suit, I go by Tony.”

She blushes and stops wiping her apron. “Of course, sorry. My nephew’s a big fan. Sorry, I’m sure you hear that a lot.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and sighs. “I’m rambling. Let me try again. I’m May Parker.” She sticks a hand out.

Tony takes it in a handshake with a grin. “Tony Stark. Don’t worry, as far as introductions go, that was far from the worst.”

May laughs nervously, then seems to remember the situation she’s in. She opens the door a bit wider. “Do you want to come in? I’d really like to know what Tony Stark is doing at my apartment.”

“I’d love to.” He follows her into the apartment as she leads him to the living room.

“Make yourself at home. I just finished baking some walnut date loaf, I’ll bring it out..” She walks over to the kitchen as he sits on the couch, but he can still hear her as she talks. “Sorry about the mess! If I knew Iron Man was visiting I would have vacuumed.”

He chuckles. “It’s no issue at all, Ms. Parker. I should have called ahead, but my schedule’s been so busy I never know when I have time to make house calls.”

May walks back from the kitchen without her apron on, bringing with her a serving platter with the walnut date loaf, a teapot, and two cups. She hesitates slightly before sitting on the side of the couch opposite Tony.

“So.” She leans against her elbow on the back of the couch. “What’s the need for a house call in the first place?”

“Ms. Parker, how aware are you of your nephew’s… extra-curricular activities?” He hopes the pause is enough to clue her in that he knows the kid’s Spider-Man. That is, if she even knows. 

She glances to the side as she thinks. “Decathlon's the big one, but he’s also in band. He was in the robotics club, but he quit that after my husband passed.” Her eyes snap back to his as they widen. “He didn’t get in trouble with you or anything, right?”

“No, no. I send a suit for the trouble makers,” he says flippantly. So she doesn’t know. 

She laughs, but it’s still tinged with nerves. “So, what’d he do?”

He breaks eye contact and cuts himself a slice of the walnut date loaf. Maybe he should’ve taken Nat’s advice and prepared something to say beforehand. Well, he was always good at improv. “September Foundation Grant!” He inwardly grimaces at his elevated volume. Maybe not that good. He looks back to May. “Have you heard of it?”

She shakes her head. “Can’t say I have. Peter’s better with all the techie stuff. He’s the nephew I mentioned earlier.”

“The techie stuff’s actually why I’m here. Peter Parker, right?” She nods. “The September Foundation typically helps fund research projects for college students, but your nephew submitted a very compelling project proposal.” He punctuated his statement by taking a bite of the walnut date loaf. Hm. It’s a bit dry for his liking, but not unbearable. He’s able to swallow it without issue but doesn’t feel the need to take another bite. “Now, given he’s not a college student, there will be some finagling with the standard procedure. I was hoping I could get some of his input on some possible ideas, is he in right now?”

May stares at him, shell-shocked, for a second before responding. “Wow, that’s incredible. I mean, we always knew he was brilliant, but… Wow.” She shakes her head a bit. ”Um, he should be back from school any minute. Do you mind if I ask what this’ll mean for him?”

“Most likely?” Tony’s mind races to think of what’ll happen with the kid. Peter, he reminds himself. “Since he doesn’t have access to or experience with a high-level lab, he’ll likely spend some time at the tower training under someone in lieu of working on his project alone. If he’s okay with it, I’d like to have him as a personal intern. Pick his brain, as it were. I personally read his proposal, he’s a very bright young man. And, it’d look great on a college application.”

May’s eyes are wide. “If he’s okay with it? A personal internship with Tony Stark at Avengers Tower? He’s gonna lose his shit!” Tony gives a small smile at the blush that appears on May’s cheeks. “Oh God, sorry, you’ve just been his--”

Their conversation is cut off by the jingling of the doorknob. There’s a few beats before they hear a jaunty, “Hey, May!” May turns to Tony and mouths Peter at him. He gives her a smile.

“Hey, how was school?” She does a good job at sounding like there’s not a superhero sitting next to her. 

“Okay. There’s this crazy car parked outside.” And finally, he comes into view. Tony looks up from his slice of walnut date loaf. Wow, he knew he was only fourteen years old, but it was hard to visualize. This kid’s young. He smirks at the kid’s starstruck look. That’ll never get old.

“Mr. Parker.”

two: on spider-man

When May opens the door for him, she just glares at him and walks into the living room. Tony takes the still-open door as the closest thing to an invitation to enter as he’s going to get. He lets himself in to find her pacing in the living room. 

“I had a bad feeling about you from the beginning, Stark,” she says with an icy voice, “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“All due respect, Ms. Parker--”

“Don’t even start with all due respect, you’re just preying on- on-” May pushes her hair out of her face. “On a widow and her nephew! You came in here talking about money and how good it’ll look on a college application, and then you sequester him to Germany where he fights multiple fully grown adult superheroes, and now you’re enabling him to run himself to the ground with this Spider-Man bullshit!”

Tony cringes at her volume, hoping the walls between apartments are thicker than they look. At least he came during Peter’s normal patrol time, so he doesn’t have to worry about the effect on his enhanced hearing. 

“Ms. Parker--”

“No, where the hell do you get off?” She stops pacing and turns to him and it’s like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “I want to know why you think giving him a spandex suit and pointing him in the direction of New York’s worst is a good idea.” 

Tony finally reaches her eyesight. He expects to see the anger. What he doesn’t expect is the cold, consuming fear. She’s afraid. She must see something in his eyes too, because she deflates slightly. 

He sighs, and begins to speak softly. “Ms. Parker, my intention is to keep Peter safe. When I found him, he was fighting crime in an old pair of pajamas. His suit is equipped with the best technology I can offer. My only hope is to provide him with the resources he needs.”

May’s nose flares. When she speaks, her voice isn’t raised, but it is still soaked in acid. “If you want to play like that, there’s no backing out. You’re in it for the long haul. You either leave him alone, right now, or you never let him out of your sight for the rest of your life. I’m not gonna let you do that half-in, half-out bullshit.” She walks right up to Tony and stands so their faces aren’t even a foot apart. She speaks in a harsh whisper. ”I know you didn’t talk to him before. If you want to continue doing whatever it is you’re doing with him, you are going to be his primary resource. You need to keep him safe. Are you prepared for that, Stark? If he doesn’t come home, that’s on you. And it’d be my fault for letting you get close to him.”

Tony’s heart jumps into his throat. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Looking at her, he sees something in May’s face crack. Her scared eyes flit across Tony’s face and she takes in a shaky breath of air before turning around and sitting on the couch. 

“I’m sorry. This isn’t about you.” She puts her head in her hands while Tony catches his breath. ”I’m just so scared of losing him, Tony. He’s all I have left.” After a moment, she looks shyly up at him. “You do make a good verbal punching bag, though.”

Tony snaps out of his frozen state and lets out a dry chuckle. “You’re not the first to use me as one.” He sits down on the couch next to her. “You might be the first to apologize right after, though.”

She looks over to him and smiles. He knows this conversation isn’t over. He knows he’s not on her good side yet. He knows that there’s still going to be countless arguments between the two of them. But there’s a spark of hope growing in his chest. And maybe it’s the way the light from the dying lightbulb in her ceiling fan hits her, but for the first time since he walked in the apartment, Tony thinks, Okay. Maybe I’ve got a chance here.

three: on building relationships

Tony knocks on the front door to May’s apartment and waits for her to answer. He’s pretty sure she’s at home. Peter mentioned the other day that he was going to be doing… something with a friend tonight. So that meant May would be alone. He wants to get on her good side, especially since he’s started spending more time with the kid. Hopefully, it was an alright night to socialize. He eyes the bottle of wine he’s holding warily and debates leaving. The best thing about spur-of-the-moment plans, he thinks, is that you can bail at any time and no one will judge you. 

But before he can start to walk away, May opens the door. “Oh! Mr. Stark!” She looks him up and down, her eyes catching on the bottle of wine. 

“Ms. Parker.”

She laughs airily at that and adjusts her stance. “Is there... something you need? Peter’s out with Ned right now.”

“I’m not here for the kid, actually. I figured we were due for a social call.” He holds up the wine bottle and gives what he hopes is an award-winning smile. 

May pulls her hair from behind her back to over one shoulder. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about how appropriate showing up randomly is.” She pauses and moves her glasses up her nose. After a beat, she gives him a shy smile. “But I had a long shift today and could really go for a glass of wine. You’re just lucky I haven’t changed into my pajamas yet.” She steps aside and he follows her into the kitchen area. 

The silence is only slightly tinged with awkwardness as May grabs some wine glasses and brings them to the kitchen table. Tony fills them both and then they sit across from each other. The table is cluttered with papers and he can almost recognize some of them as homework Peter’s worked on in the lab. 

May looks comfortable as can be, but Tony feels the need to say something to fill the silence. “So… How are you?” He cringes a little, but May doesn’t seem to mind the stilted small talk. 

“Better now that I’m home.” She follows his line of sight to the pile of papers. ”I’m not going to apologize for the mess this time, by the way.”

“Please. You should see my lab.” May’s laugh is clear and tinkling. Tony looks up to her, his tone suddenly turning self-conscious. “Do you want to, actually? Peter’s been visiting more often, maybe it should be Aunt-approved.”

May waves her hand nonchalantly as she lifts her glass. “Maybe someday, but I figure a genius CEO knows what’s safe for a teen.” She pauses to take a sip. “That is to say, I’m assuming Pepper had some input.”

Tony can’t hide the chuckle that escapes from his chest. “I’m wounded, May,” he says with a smile. ”Now I see where the kid gets it from.” 

She hums and gives him a small smile in return. “Speaking of the kid,” she makes her voice deeper in a half-assed imitation of Tony’s voice. “How’s Peter doing with Spider-Man?”

Tony takes a sip of his wine, stalling for time as he thinks of how to respond. Peter’s been saving a lot of lives as Spider-Man recently, but that also means he puts his own in danger far too often. He doesn’t want to worry her, but he’s sure she’d be able to spot a lie from a mile away. 

“That bad, huh?” He sets his glass back down and looks at May to see her smiling knowingly at him. 

He smiles back through a sigh and leans back into the chair. “The kid’s a menace,” he says. ��Got a good head on his shoulders, but he’s hell for my blood pressure.”

“Well, welcome to caring about Peter.” She raises her glass. Something soft and warm blooms in Tony’s chest. It must show on his face because May gives him a look. “Don’t think this means you’re growing on me. I’m still on the fence.”

“Course.” Tony clinks his glass with hers and takes another slow sip while she continues to hold his gaze, knowing he’s not done. “That’s why you let me come in at 6 pm on a Friday with no warning.”

May huffs and shakes her head as she looks down at the table, idly shuffling through some of the pieces of paper. Tony’s just about to say something when she barks out a laugh. 

“Oh my God, this is perfect.” She’s holding a piece of slightly aged printer paper in one hand and covering her mouth with the other. “I think Peter was 8 or 9 when he did this. We’ve been going through a bunch of boxes recently, he must have hidden this from me.”

She laughs to herself and offers it to Tony. He takes it and his heart skips a beat. On the paper is a child’s drawing of the Iron Man suit, complete with a pair of sunglasses and lines of crayon that stray outside of the lines. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. In fact, he has a file cabinet somewhere that’s filled with drawings and letters from kids. But for some reason, the unruly Peter P. scrawled in the corner makes his chest ache. He tears his eyes away from the picture to look back at May. 

“Wow, May. This is incredible.” He surreptitiously clears his throat. ”Top-notch blackmail material. I should call MoMA.”

She scoffs, but her eyes are soft. “You’re full of it.”

“I’m serious, this is modern art. Who knew he was so talented. He really captured the… aura of Iron Man.” He shoots May a grin. “I need to frame it. Maybe make it a flyer and spread it around the city. Somewhere he’ll see it.”

May rolls her eyes and plucks the drawing out of his hands. “I draw the line at public humiliation.” She gazes at the drawing and starts to smirk. “Humiliation between just the two of us, on the other hand… I think I have some photo albums in the living room if you want to see some more of Peter’s childhood.”

Tony’s eyes light up. “May, you’re going at the top of my will.”

She laughs and starts to walk into the living room. She calls from over her shoulder, “Bring the wine with you!”

They spend the next few hours drinking wine and laughing at Peter’s childhood antics. There are pictures from various Halloweens and birthdays mixed haphazardly with pictures from average days. Tony is careful not to mention the pictures that have Ben in them, but May talks about him openly. The Halloween pictures are the ones that make Tony laugh the most. The kid seemed to be alternating between dressing up as every Avenger and every Star Wars character. 

They’re about halfway through pictures of Peter’s middle school graduation (and well over halfway through the bottle of wine) when Tony realizes May hasn’t said anything for the last few pages. He looks over to see a few tears making a path down her cheeks.

“Woah, hey. Are you…” He trails off and awkwardly places a hand on her shoulder with just a touch too much force behind it. “Are you crying?”

“No,” she says with a sniff, “I’m just sad.”

“Oh, okay. Had me fooled.” He sinks back into the couch, dragging his focus from the scrapbook to May. The wine was starting to hit him. “Why are you… not crying?”

“He’s so big!”

“Peter?” May glares at Tony, but the soft cloud of inebriation behind her eyes softens the blow. “Okay, okay. Yeah, Peter’s a bonafide young adult now.”

May frowns and clumsily wipes her cheeks. “Just yesterday he was a lost little kid. He’s gonna graduate high school soon! He’s growing up too fast.”

“I know, he’s gotta quit doing that.”

“You can stop him. He’d listen to you. He never listens to me, he’d just go and… grow up faster or… something,” she says with surprisingly minimal slurring. Tony tries to plan out a blueprint for an anti-adult machine but just ends up snickering through his teeth. 

“I’ll be honest, May. I don’t think I can stop him from getting older.”

May makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and air escaping from a tire. “You’re Iron Man, you can figure something out.”

“Time travel’s a bit…” He pauses to take his hand off May’s shoulder and stretch, which causes him to let out an embarrassingly loud groan. He lowers himself back onto the couch, his face almost completely hidden by the cushion. “A bit above my pay grade.”

“Get Peter to invent it then, he’s way smarter than you.”

“Who here has a degree from MIT?” He doesn’t even wait for May to respond. “‘Cause Peter doesn’t.”

She scoffs. “He will in just a few years.”

“Yeah, well. I went to college when I was fourteen, so.” Tony swings his head over to see May holding her head in her hands and sniffling again. He backtracks. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, he’s way smarter than me. Miles and miles ahead.”

“No, it’s not that.” May’s voice is only slightly muffled by her hands. “You’re right, but that’s not it.”

“Then what’s uh… What’s the deal?”

May picks her head up for just long enough for Tony to see the tear tracks making a return on her cheeks. “My boy’s gonna go to college soon! What am I going to do without him? I can’t be alone!”

“No, no, you can do so many things! Like, uh…” Tony racks his mind for what people do when they’re not taking care of teenagers. “Travel! Or crochet?”

May’s head falls back into her hands as she shakes it from side to side. Evidently, that wasn’t the right response. After a few moments of awkward silence, a lightbulb goes off. 

“Hey, tell you what.” Tony claps his hands together and May peers at him through her fingers. “Pep and I will have a kid, name him Peter, and you can adopt him. Then you can keep baby Peter for when spider Peter is away. You can watch Peter grow all over again. Pep and I can look after him when spider Peter visits. He never even has to know. Win-win.”

There’s a brief pause before May’s body shivers with emotion. Tony reaches over to pat her shoulder blade, but she pushes his hand away. She looks up, and she’s not sobbing anymore. She’s laughing. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she’s giving Tony a grin. 

She pauses in her laughing to say, “For a billionaire superhero, you can be pretty stupid.” Tony scoffs.

“I’ll have you know,” he says in a faux-professional tone, “this billionaire superhero is paying for your son’s college.”

A pause. May stiffens, which causes Tony to trail off and look at her with confusion. When May speaks, her voice is much soberer than before. “Nephew.” 

“Oh.” Tony freezes. “Nephew.”

“I’m his aunt,” May states. She gets a far-away look in her eyes and glances at the scrapbook that’s laying forgotten on the coffee table. “He’s not my son.”

Tony rubs his tongue along his teeth as he thinks about what to say. “Do you want to talk about it?” He grimaces. He sounds like a Hallmark card.

“No.” Her voice has a tone of finality that is too steady for how much she’s drinking. “Not with you. Not right now.”

“Then I can recommend a great therapist. All expenses paid. Way too much confidentiality. Maybe you can do that while the kid’s gone.”

“Stark, when will you learn you can’t just throw money at your problems to make them go away?” She cracks him a small smile despite her words. 

“In this day and age? Probably never.”

She snorts. “Too right.”

The rest of the night passes in a warm wine-tipsy haze of looking through photo albums and almost falling asleep on May’s shoulder. He vaguely remembers May putting a blanket over him and then going to her own room at some point. 

Tony wakes up to someone poking his face. His back aches from sleeping on the couch. His head aches from drinking last night. Lord, say what you will about getting blackout drunk every night, but at least it helped him build a tolerance. He opens his eyes to see Peter taking up most of his vision. For a split second, an image of Rhodey in their old college dorm is superimposed over everything. He blinks his eyes a few times and Peter’s face comes back into view. 

“Anyone teach you manners, Underoos?” Tony grumbles. 

Peter ignores him. “Did you sleep here?”

Tony stretches and feels his spine pop like a firecracker. “Must’ve. Didn’t you see me last night? Or did you spend the night with uh, your friend?”

“I got back late last night. I came in through my window.”

“Sure, kid.” He looks over to his left, surprised to see the other side of the couch empty. “Hey, where’s your--”

He’s cut off by a voice from across the apartment. “I’m in the kitchen!” May yells. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Not burnt!” May gives him an admonishing shout, but sharing a grin with Peter is worth it. “I should actually get going, I did just show up out of the blue.”

“C’mon, Mr. Stark, you can stay for breakfast. It’s the weekend!”

May comes out of the kitchen and leans against the wall. She adjusts her glasses. “I really don’t mind. We always have breakfast together on Saturdays, and sleeping on that couch is punishment enough for coming over unannounced.” She gives Peter a knowing smirk. “‘Sides, Peter likes having you around. God knows why.”

Tony glances at Peter, who shrugs and looks away. “Well, in that case, I could go for an egg over-easy.”

May smiles sweetly at him. “Yeah, I was asking to be nice. You’re getting scrambled.”

Tony looks over at Peter, hoping for some of that patented superhero personality to come to his defense, but he just laughs. Traitor. 

interlude: on friends

Tony’s catching up on Grey’s Anatomy with Pepper in the bedroom of his Manhattan apartment when his phone vibrates. He gives her an apologetic glance as he pulls it out of his pocket, but she just smiles and rolls her eyes from where she’s laying against his side. 

Hey, it’s May (Parker). Were you joking about that therapist?

He types out his response quickly, knowing how stingy Pepper is with letting him rewind.

I wasn’t. I’ll send you her info later tonight, working on the suit rn. -Tony (Stark)

Pepper looks up at him. “What are you smiling about?”

“Just helping out a friend.” Friend. He doesn’t think he’s appreciated that word enough. ”Feels good.”

Pepper responds by pushing herself further into his chest and placing a warm hand over the rough scar tissue above his heart. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft now, Mr. Stark.”

“For you, Ms. Potts?” He pulls his arm around her and rests his head on hers. “Never.”

She just laughs and leans into his touch.  

four: on more than friends

Tony tries calling May for what feels like the hundredth time as he hustles up the seven flights of stairs. Christ, he’d have to try to pay for them to move to a lower floor. Like the several times he tried before, May still didn’t answer her phone. He texted Peter a few times, but he won’t get them until he comes back from his camping trip with Ned. Tony mentally adds build a phone that never goes out of service to his ever-growing to do list. He ignores the worry growing in his chest like a weed (he doesn’t want to even start to unpack the fact that his close circle of Pepper and Rhodey might be expanding) and activates his watch gauntlet as he finally reaches May’s door. He doesn’t even bother with trying to knock, deciding just to blast it open.

He runs into the apartment, gauntlet still warm against his palm, just to freeze in his tracks. May isn’t kidnapped or in any trouble. She’s sitting on the couch with a man Tony doesn’t recognize, both of them holding a glass of wine. When she sees him, her smile drops and she takes her hand off of where it was resting on the man’s thigh, causing him to follow her gaze.

“Holy shit, Tony Stark?” the man says. 

May quickly puts down her glass of wine and gets off the couch. “Um, hey, Tony. What’re you doing here?” Tony’s brain is still too busy rebooting to respond. 

“He’s not your ex, is he?”

Thankfully, they both look equally grossed out at that prospect. “No, thank God. I’m way out of his league. My nephew interns for him,” she says, as if that explains why Iron Man would show up at her apartment unannounced. She looks at him pointedly. “But I am wondering what he’s doing blasting my door down.”

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he states dumbly.

May sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Hey Nathan, can you give me a second with him?”

The man, Nathan, gets up from the couch. “I’ll just head out. I don’t want to keep the babysitter up, anyways.” He leans in and gives May a peck on her cheek after gathering his jacket from the armrest. “I’ll text you. I had fun tonight.” He stalls a bit in front of Tony, but recovers quickly. He sticks out his hand. “Mr. Stark, a pleasure.”

Tony gives a stiff smile and returns the handshake, completely on autopilot. Quiet reigns in the living room as him and May listen to the sound of the front door opening and closing, which takes an uncomfortable amount of time given it’s now missing a majority of its doorknob.  

As soon as her guest is out of earshot, May starts to speak. Her voice comes out strained, tired, and sounding much too old for her age. “Stark, I am a regular person. I’m not a superhero. I’m not constantly on the verge of being kidnapped. If I don’t answer my phone, your first thought should be ‘I hope she’s having a really nice date’, not ‘I should blast her door down.’” 

She looks to him and sighs. Tony suddenly feels a hot bolt of guilt race through his body and he feels inexplicably self-conscious. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

May walks closer and places both of her hands on Tony’s cheeks. “Tony. Listen to me. If my choice is between talking to you on the phone and getting laid while my nephew is out of the house for a normal teenage reason for the first time in months, I will always choose the latter. What was so important that you had to ruin that?”

Tony sucks in a breath, already knowing she’s not going to like his reasoning. “I wanted your opinion on what I should get Peter for his birthday. He said a while back that you always answered your phone by the second ring, so when you didn’t answer at all, I got…” He trails off and scratches his neck, but the look on May’s face tells him he won’t get off that easy. He sighs. “I got worried.”

She flops back onto the couch and groans. “Is this what my life is going to be? Am I permanently going to have to take care of the dumbest men in the world?”

Tony clears his throat and gives his most charming smile. “If it makes you feel any better, in my line of work--”

“Can it, Iron Man.”

“Yep.”

five: on absence

Tony feels like he hasn’t had a full breath of air since he got back to Earth. It’s as if the atmosphere around him changed from gas to liquid and he’s just fighting to stay afloat. 

He can’t remember how he got here. Both here, as in this state, and here here, as in the seventh floor of a run-down Queens apartment complex. Happy probably drove him. He probably even offered to be the one to come up here, but Tony must have turned him down. 

He hesitates before knocking. This is it. This is the moment Schroedinger opens the box. 

There’s no response.

Tony easily rams the front door open with his shoulder, hardly registering the pain. 

He sees a pile of dust sitting in front of a TV that is still playing the news. 

And he finally, finally, lets himself fall to his knees and cry.

plus one: on family

It’s the party to end all parties. 

They’re celebrating one year of life, one year of victory, one year of finally, one year of fuck yes, we did it!

No one really knows how the anniversary of the snap is being celebrated around the universe, but here in New York, it’s with a compound filled with as many superheroes as possible with strict orders to let it all out. 

Tony’s busy dancing between Pepper and Rhodey to a song that he’s far too old to dance to when his watch vibrates. He rigged FRIDAY to let him know when certain people arrived so he could greet them personally rather than just having FRIDAY announce their arrival over the speakers. He excuses himself with a kiss on the lips for Pepper and one on the cheek for Rhodey before moving through the crowd to go to answer the front door. 

Once he gets there, he opens the door to see May and Peter. “Well, if it isn’t the Parkers! Come on in, party’s just getting started.” He waves them in. “I was just about to ask FRI if you were lost.”

May laughs and ruffles Peter’s hair. “I blame Peter completely. He should pay more attention to where Happy drives him.”

Peter scoffs and pushes her hand away before looking at Tony. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey yourself, kid,” Tony says, pulling Peter in for a hug. “Been a few weeks.” After Peter, he gives a hug to May. “Always a pleasure to see you, May.”

“Evening, Tony.” She nods to his right arm with a smile when they seperate. “I see you’re changing it up again.”

He flexes his prosthetic arm, admiring it not for the first time. It’s made of shiny golden vibranium with thin red lines tracing all of the joints. On the inside of the wrist, “Mark 10” is inscribed. 

“Well,” he says, returning her smile, “it’s a special occasion. I had to make it party-ready. Check this out, you two.”

He points his hand to the air and brings his middle and ring finger to his palm. There’s a short pop of compressed air followed by a small burst of confetti flying out from the inside of his wrist. He swears he can almost see the colored paper reflecting in Peter and May’s eyes as they look at it in awe. 

“Repurposed web-shooter tech,” he says after the last of the confetti hits the floor, holding his hand out towards Peter for him to inspect. “What do you think?”

Peter takes his hand and carefully grazes his fingers over it, successfully finding and popping open the compartment that houses the cannisters of confetti. “Wow, man. That’s awesome.”

Even though Tony’s been using prosthetics regularly for almost 10 months now, he still isn’t used to not feeling parts of his arm. He set it up so he can feel tactile impressions and temperature in most places, but various sections of his arm function as storage for various tools he uses in and out of the lab instead. Watching Peter as he explores all the hidden compartments of his most recent prosthetic, he can’t help but think that a few square inches of lost sensation is worth it. 

He catches May smiling at him as he watches Peter examine his arm. She motions her head to the side. 

“Alright, kid.” He wiggles his fingers so Peter looks at him. “Why don’t you go get a head start on the snack table? I got those weird chips you like.”

“They aren’t weird.” Peter scoffs, even as he’s already heading to the main area. “They’re just hard to find.”

Once Peter’s out of earshot (and just a bit further, just to be safe), Tony turns to May. 

“Happy Snappiversary,” he says with a quirked grin as he snaps with his right hand. 

“Oh, God. Please tell me people aren’t actually going to call it that.”

“What can I say?” Tony stretches his prosthetic arm deliberately. ”If they ever make a national holiday out of something you did, you can call it whatever you like.”

May laughs and shakes her head. “I can see it’s done wonders for your ego.”

He smirks at that, but it slowly falls as he gazes at his arm. “Sometimes I think I was cursed as a kid to rely on technology.” He sniffs sharply. “But I get by.”

“Then I guess stars really are just like us,” May says as she steps closer and smooths the lapels of his suit jacket. 

“What do you think, May? Am I finally on your good side?”

“Oh Tony, you should know by now Parkers don’t say their love. They show it.” She leans in and kisses his cheek. “Thanks for saving us.”

“Purely selfish reasons, I promise,” he says as he flexes the fingers on his right hand absentmindedly. 

She laughs and pats his cheek. ”Thanks, Tony.” As she turns to walk away, she pauses and says, “Peter won’t say anything to you about it, but he’d love to play a few games with you tonight. Don’t let him down.”

“Never.”

Tony gives himself just a moment to stand still and enjoy the moment before rejoining the party. Once he’s ready, he walks towards the music. 

Tag List: @ironfamjam @addi-is-amazing @mysterio-is-a-little-bitch @wellplacedbanana 

[finleyjayne]

Break A Leg

 {Chapter 1: Auditions}

Summary: After your accident, everything in your life changed. Your shared dream of being on Broadway with your best friend, Amanda, was over. But just because YOU don’t think you want the same things in life doesn’t mean that your friend won’t see through you. Taking matters into her own hands, you end up at an audition you’re sure that you’ll fail since SHIELD Theater Company is known the world over for typecasting. And you don’t fit any of your typical actress types. Little do you know that the company’s new writer - nihilistic, pessimistic, and resident drunk; Bucky Barnes- is looking for someone out of their normal choices.

Characters: Female Reader, OFC Best Friend, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, and all your other favorite Marvel Characters, hopefully in the long run it will end with a Bucky Barnes/Reader ship.

Series Warnings: Guys, this is based on my own experiences within the Acting community after gaining weight and height after an accident. There will be fat-shaming, mentions of eating disorders, unhealthy expectations, unhealthy coping mechanisms, also like bias based on looks.

A/N:this originally was inspired by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ s follower celebration challenge. I was given the opportunity to use the text prompt “No fucks given, Next please.” Thank you Star! Thank you Thank you. Also a big thanks to the lovely @cavillanche​ for giving me a gentle nudge to write for myself and for being an amazing sounding board.

"Come oooooon, Y/N. I don't care if you don't want to go out. I haven't seen you in what feels like literal months. That's saying something since you know we LIVE together. I won't take no as an answer." Your best friend, Amanda, said as she flopped on top of you. 

Amanda burst into your bedroom this morning at way-to-fucking-early o'clock in the morning, on a warpath to get you to come out with her. It didn't matter to her that you were finally getting some sleep after working all-nighters for the last week. There was no way to ignore her either, her sunny personality and eager persistence would cause you to roll over in your grave if she wanted you to.

With a groan, you smothered your complaints behind a gasping wheeze. "Kay, Manda, where are we going?"

 She rolled off of you with a high-pitched squeal and used the momentum to pull you out of bed. "Yay! I have so much planned. I was talking to my manager about how well we used to work as a pair on stage. I may have mentioned how much I would kill to be the Penny to your Tracy. Or the Meg to your Christine. The Judy to your Betty. The Glinda to your Elphaba." Her words started to fade into background noise as she milled on about the parts you had once wanted to play together.

  The dream used to be that you both would move here, to New York, and play in all of the big theaters on Broadway together. Sadly, your broadway dreams were not as much of a reality as Amanda's were. And you were okay with that. You were thrilled for Amanda. Living vicariously through your best friend, helping her prepare for her shows while working as a Math tutor and Accountant for a local firm. 

   It didn't help that you weren't necessarily what people consider the typical standard of beauty. Standing just under six feet tall, a little plushy about the middle, and some nasty scar tissue leaving one of your legs in a constant state of ghostly paleness. Not that people notice since you tend to find yourself just as pale as the damaged tissue. After so many failed auditions, you figured your best life was lived outside of the theater. You were happy, and honestly, you are kinda glad that you are where you are.  

 "....So hurry up, I'll pick your outfit, we have an appointment with Rijah in half an hour." Amanda finished pushing you into the little cubical shower. When did she turn it on? Where are we going? Needless to say, you did what she asked and stuffed down your confusion, focusing on waking up more before you accompanied her to yet another one of her 'private' lessons with your pianist friend.

Thirty minutes later, you were dressed, primped, polished, and not all that much more awake. Amanda stuffed a binder of music into your hand as Elijah spread his copy over the lip of his pristinely kept upright. "You know this song, I think it will be perfect. A little overplayed, but with a fresh interpretation, they'll overlook it. All you have to do is sing. They are bound to cast you. I've worked with them before, and Director Rogers values skill over appearances. So we'll show them your ability, and he'll love you."

Looking at your rambling best friend, Your confusion amplifies. Your jaw cracks as you don't even try to stifle another yawn. You rub your eyes, not questioning her pushiness. "Uuuuhhhhh, okay?" You scan through the score, making note of the cut before looking to the triangular-shaped man sitting on the piano bench. Since you had already been taken through the typical vocal warm-ups by Amanda while she played dress up this morning. You smile at your expectant friend/accompanist. "Will you give me a playthrough with the melody line in it as a refresher, please, Rijah, Repeat, and I'll join you?" 

"Of course," He said sweetly with a nod, turning to the keys and playing. Quietly you hummed along, mentally noting which registers each phrase should be sung in. Where the notes would be stretched, what you would use to your advantage. The accompaniment was simple, repeated strummed chords like most modern musical use. It gives freedom rhythmically when it comes to melodies. You could have fun with the piece. Smiling to yourself, you open your mouth and join the simplified accompaniment on the repeat. 

When the second run-through finishes with a very extravagant arpeggiation. There is a moment of complete stillness as the resonance leaves the space. You are high on the feelings of intense emotion and absolute peace, yet somehow buzzing with unlocked energy. You miss this feeling, of connection with everything and nothing, The feeling of knowing that you did something right, it's heady, and it drives you to ask yourself why you ever stopped performing for a brief second. Amanda was always saying that she would drag you to an audition one of these days if you didn't get over yourself.

 You are knocked out of your musical high by Amanda's enthusiastic clapping. Elijah looks at you with a smirk, opens his mouth, and is swiftly cut off by your friend. "God, Y/N. They won't be able to stop themselves as soon as you open your mouth!" You smile at her very biased opinions. Before she can get any crazy ideas like dragging me along to more than just her sessions with Elijah, you place the binder the music into her hands, "Why don't we go over Take me or leave me? After all, this is your rehearsal time, I'm just here to help you."

Amanda gives you a devious smirk as she nods. "Sure. You heard the woman, 'Rijah." She sends him a sly wink that you are too tired to really read much into. He just nods with a conspiratory smile and spreads the music for the RENT song over the previous. 

"Whenever you are ready, ladies," He says when he's ready. Sighing internally, you place yourself back into your 'supportive friend' role, playing out the simplified blocking of Amanda's latest show. 

Before you even fully realize it, your hour with 'Rijah was over, and Amanda was pulling you into a nearby taxi to your next destination. "If you don't let me at least have a coffee, I will not be held accountable for my actions, Woman." You warn your best friend as you eye her. You were starting to worry that you would need to be more awake for whatever plans she had for the rest of the day, You were now to the point where you could see her scheming something, but were still too out of it to figure out what it was. 

She looked at you, trying to hide behind her mask of sickeningly-sweet innocence. I knew this look and all that it implied, and it worked to shake me into a slight panic of what she was walking me into. "I don't know what you mean, Y/N. I told you where we were going this morning, I promise this is the last stop before we can go home and you can sleep the rest of the night away. But if things go as I hope, we may have a repeat of this occasion sooner rather than later." The taxi pulls up at a building with a line heading out the door and around the corner. 

That's when it hits you; That promise that Amanda had made to you all those months ago about dragging you to an audition wasn't just one of those 'get moving your ass, or I'll move it for you' speeches to get you out of bed, she was going to do it. No, she wasn't going to do anything. Amanda had already done it. She had gotten you into an audition. 

You were suddenly wide awake. The knowledge that you were at an NYC Broadway audition, with your best friend hitting you like Celie's babies being alive in The Color Purple. It is unexpected but brought with it such excitement and fear all at once. You grasped onto Amanda's arm. "Amanda Jenivive Brendon, if this is some kind of joke, I don't know if I can forgive you. Please say this is not some kind of joke." The words are a desperate snarl. The hope pressing against your chest mixed with the fear that you jumped to incorrect conclusions was absolutely unbearable.

Amanda lets out a loving laugh before playfully scowling at you. "You really haven't been listening to a single thing I've said to you all day, have you?" The accusation was slightly bitter, but you knew she was laughing on the inside.

You squeeze her arm as your panic escalates. What am I going to do? How am I going to do this? What if they don't accept me just because of how I look? Shit, what am I going to do about a resume? Your vision blurs as you watch your best friend take your hand, leading you into the building past the line of girls and down a hallway to a dance studio styled room. 

She leads you to a table set before the long wall of mirrors where a cute little redhead sits. Taking out a binder and handing her two sets of papers, "Hey Wanda, It's good to see you. Is it standard issue today?" 

With a bright smile, Wanda accepts the papers. "Sure is Amanda, Do you need a copy of the company notes, or do you still know them by heart?" 

 Amanda chuckles before shaking her head, "I don't need a set, but you probably should give one to Y/N here, She could use the distraction of going through all the legal jargon while we wait."

Wanda's eyes grew wide as she turned to face you. "Y/N? As in 'shower singer Y/N'? Oh my Atlanta, Buck is going to lose his shit!" She jumps up and claps her hands. "I gotta go tell them!"  

Amanda's hand snaps out to stop the woman from leaving. "Hey, none of that. I want to see their surprise when they hear her, especially after Tony's last casting rant."  

Wanda immediately calms, her face splitting into a devious smirk. "OOOOooo, you are evil. I love it. Want me to film it for you?"

 "It's like you read my mind," Amanda says, turning to see your expression of confusion. "Y/N, hey, Y/N/N? You in there?" She snaps her fingers lightly in your face. "Come on, girl. Wanda here is the Stage Manager for the SHIELD Theater Company."  

"Wait, what?" Your voice cracks as your heart hammers even harder into your ribs. SHIELD Theater Company was one of the prominent troupes in New York. They were world-famous, they were the equivalent to The Royal Shakespeare Company in America. Were you at an audition for them? I thought you had to be part of a Union to even be considered for an audition with them!  

"Really, Y/N? Still not paying attention? Come on, let's take a seat, stretch a bit. before they put us through our paces." Her eyes are bright with amusement as she sticks your number on the left side of your dress.

"I'm sorry? In my defense, I have had a total of 8 hours of sleep in the last week. So not the point, though!" You follow her to a set of chairs in the room. At her reproachful glare, when your voice breaches into a louder panicked screech, you take a few breaths before continuing in a harried whisper. " I mean, how am I even here? I am not Unionized, I haven't paid my dues for months! I don't have-" Your internal concerns continue to pour out of your mouth as Amanda slams her palm over your mouth. 

 "Hey, take a deep breath for me, Y/N. I need you to stay conscious... maybe I should have gotten you a coffee before we came, but you always complain that it makes your vocals all gummy." You rip her hand off of your mouth, eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Hey, you're the one who woke me from my first decent sleep this week, you can't really blame me for being a little lack-of-sleep drunk. And Coffee does make me phlegmy, but, again, that is not the point. The point is now that I know what you've set up, how can it be possible?" You whisper scream at the aggravatingly calm Amanda.

 She rolled her eyes, "Well, I told you I was going to make our dreams come true, and I have had enough of your lame excuses about how you don't want to get back on the horse. But I saw you today. You WANT to be here. I've seen your secret tears when you go over our old cast photos. I hear you belting in the shower, so I've taken it upon myself to continue paying your dues to the AEA, and cashed in a favor with my agent to sign both of us up for this particular call."

 Before you could make a rebuttal, seven people walked into the room that had slowly filled with fifty or so women while you were distracted. A short brunette plants himself in the center of the mirrored wall as the others take seats next to Wanda behind the white foldable table.

 "Welcome, ladies, It is inspiring to see all of your beautiful faces. Before we start, I wanted to say a few words. First, thank you for taking the time to come and audition with us today.

"As you know, we only hold one set of auditions for the full season and look at that, all of you have made the initial cut for this season. Now it's time for the fine-tuning. Just know that even if you don't make it into our troupe this year, it's nothing personal. We have a specific set of personalities and abilities that we are looking for. If you don't make it this year with us, don't be afraid to come back next season. 

"Now, to kick off this lovely party, let's have you line up, no particular order." The man smirks, and you gasp as you realize who the cocky man is: Tony Stark. You were being lined up for your first NYC cattle call by the eccentric, theatrical genius Tony Stark. You didn't know whether to be honored or terrified. He had a notorious reputation as a type-caster, and the only type he favored was the short, petite woman. FUCK. 

Amanda dragged you into the line as she plastered a knowing smile on her face, "Just remember, sing. if you open your mouth, let that beautiful song sing from your heart." 

"Sure, whatever you say," you reply to her whispered reassurances, holding your head up high as the legendary man started down the line."No, No, Yes, Yes, Yes, Sorry, Sure, Yes. Not this time, sweets. No, Sorry, Yes, Yes, Yes... " And so on until he reached Amanda. "Miss Brandon, nice to see you again. I look forward to hearing your choices today." 

"Same to you, Mr. Stark, and I look forward to showing you my progress from last year."

"Good, good" His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her for another few seconds before skipping over you entirely, "yes, yes, yes, No…"

Well, it looks like you made it through the first cut, Amanda drags you back to where you left your purse and Amanda's backpack. She shares a conspiratory glance with Wanda, who just rolls her eyes. "Take a deep breath, then they'll start pulling us up in small groups to rotate through our song choices."

 "Amanda, I'm pretty sure you voodooed Stark into overlooking me." Amanda just laughs.

"Sure, whatever you wanna tell yourself. I think it was just you being here, it's fate." Now it's your turn to roll your eyes at your friend's everlasting optimism.

Once Stark finishes going down the line, he takes his place back front and center. "Okay, ladies, now it's time for the fun bit. I'm sure you were all smart cookies and gave Wanda your music cuts along with your resumes, so now it's time to put those voices to work. We'll call you up in trios. Wanda will read out your name and call number, Thor will wait for you to count out a tempo before playing for you. Wanda?" Stark calls out the woman before taking his seat behind the table. 

Wanda smiles brightly, calling out the first three people as the Hulking blond man stands from the table and makes his way to the piano. Wow, I hope I don't mess this up. It's not just my ass on the line anymore. You are brought back out of your thoughts by a gentle tug on your arm. 

"Stop overthinking things, you'll do fine, Your resume is prime, your song choice is brilliant, and like they couldn't choose someone more theatre conscious if they had hired Idina Menzel." 

You shudder at the actress's name, "I would hope so, she's terrible."

"Yet she had been a mainstay in theater for years." 

"So what, just goes to show people don't necessarily want talent. They want beautiful mutants who can screech out songs without killing their vocal cords."

"Y/N, Shut the fuck up. You can do the same things, you may not sing in a scream like she can, but you know how to sing, you can dance- don't give me that look I caught you practicing your fouettes last week- and more importantly, you can connect. You connect in everything, you have so much to offer, and I know that once these people hear you, they will hire you. I know it."

You sigh, you weren't sure that everything she was saying was true, but you knew that she believed the words with all of her heart and didn't want to be the reason her hope died. So you just sighed in resignation before turning to the group that was in the midst of their auditions. They were outstanding, and the longer you went on, the more self-conscious of your own lack of preparation. Subconsciously you reached out to grab Amanda's hand and ended up clutching onto her dress front.  

"Amanda, Amanda, I don't deserve to be here." Your hushed whisper, dragging harsh against your throat. Your chest tightening, your panic acting as a hangman's noose. "Amanda, I don't know what I'm singing. Amanda, what is it from? What is the song's name? How will I slate if I don't even know the name of the song? Wait, what is MY name? " Your breath started to tear through your lungs, your sinuses stung with oncoming tears. 

"Y/N, take a breath, let go before you give everyone an unexpected flash." Amanda's whispered reply was almost biting in its directness. Even if you consciously didn't hear the words, her tone cut the noose from your neck. Your lungs immediately expanded with much-needed air, your fingers loosening their grip to let her replace the fabric with her own firm grip. "Good girl, now, Y/N, what is your name?"

"Uhhhhhh…" Even if you were calming down, your brain was still coming back to grips.

"The next three are as follows: Y/N Y/L/N, Amanda Brendon, and Savannah Moffat." Wanda's lyric call cut through the silence that had filled the studio while you were trying to remember your name. 

You stood automatically, all your years of auditioning kicked you into performance autopilot. Your shoulders take their place slightly back, head high, chest on display, the skirt of your dress flowing around your thighs as if they were the mist rolling over the valley at dawn. Your face hid the horror that was filling your mind, it didn't matter that you didn't remember the name of your song, you were Y/N Y/L/N. You could fake it till you make it to perfection. Amanda was right, all you have to do is sing, and they will see you. It doesn't matter if you don't look like you used to, you are still capable, and even if you don't make it, you can't say that you didn't try. Just remember what Doctor Ellis said, 'every audition is a performance, even if they don't choose you, you were able to perform.' You can do this. After all, you sang it this morning, you could see the sheet music just behind your eyelids when you close your eyes. Just keep breathing.

Amanda gave your hand a final squeeze as she recognized the look of horrified determination in your eyes. Smiling to herself as she saw the bored looks on the panelists' faces. She met eyes with Wanda, who gave her a smirk nudging the blond man sandwiched between her and Tony. Turning his attention to your regal appearance before Tony also decided to look up from whatever was so important on his phone. 

You opened your mouth to introduce yourself, and Tony's voice filled the space clearly, saying the words that had shattered your own will to find your auditions.

"I'm sorry I must have missed you before. There is no need for you to sing today, collect your things."

Your face fell into an imitation of a polite smile as your brain processed the rejection. Guess Amanda really did save me from being culled. Before you can say or do anything, though, the blond man sitting next to Tony spoke.

"Tony, you had your chance. Now it's my turn to decide whether or not she is cast. Now sit down." 

"No, it isn't too late, Steve. I bankroll this group I get to have a say. And I won't have someone who looks like her representing my Acting Company."

"You already had your say. Now sit down and let the girl sing."

"No," Stark turns from the blond man and back to you. "No fucks given, Next, please."

 CHAPTER TWO

[taeminie]

it’s admiration hours, my dear sugar blossom! how are you? i hope you’re having a beautiful morning (if im guessing right on this time zone thing) or afternoon, when this message finds you. i apologize that it’s a bit later than i usually respond, i got surprisingly busy today and yesterday and finally made time to sit and reply tonight!

it’s nice to know you prefer tea 🤔 i like coffee too but... i think tea is my favorite as well 😌 do you have any favorite kinds? and i’m glad that things have been better for you lately!! 🌷 ✨ 🤗

omg the thing about the boots is that they’re a classic case of like, they look good on other girls, so do i like them cuz they’re sexy on other women or because i want to wear them... or both? yknow that feeling? so for christmas this year i leaned in and bought them and feel like i’m serving looks on the runway, it’s such a confidence boost! anyway enough about footwear 😂

oh you paint such a pretty picture of your home, it sounds really beautiful! and i think it’s enviable how near you are to the beach, i love the beach! hopefully summer stays at a manageable temperature this year 😅 i can feel the weather here turn toward spring and i’m hoping the same thing- that summer isn’t extremely hot this year 😨 i have big plans to ride my bike a lot more and i can’t do that if it’s 40+ degrees out 😱

oh that’s so sweet, they’re perfect petnames for you too because!! you are such a sweetheart! ah!! and yes, as an aquarius (which explains the theatrics, and the rambling) i’ve poured over these messages to you trying not to sound... insane. you can let me know if it’s worked or not😂 😇

and though it was busy, i did have a really nice day! i got to do some yoga and workout, and cook and watch an interesting travel show with my sister, where the host goes to places that maybe aren’t considered top travel destinations- but he usually finds in the end that they’re all delightful and worth traveling to. it turned out really informative and visually beautiful! it also added a lot of places to my travel list 😂

in closing i wanted to ask- what’s bringing you joy lately? what things/people/etc are brightening your days? 🤗

hi love!!! i’m sorry it’s been so long and i replied so late i saw this lovely message and didn’t have time to read it all so i wanted to properly read it. 

you know when u think things are better but then u fall into another slump... yeah. but i am feeling much better now i promise hehe

my favorite tea is red fruit mix!! i’ve been loving this one from a brand called nature’s heart and they also have a box with mixed flavors that include peach, mango, coconut, it’s so so good and i have that usually before bed every night to calm me down. 

i’m really glad u decided to buy the boots for yourself fuck what anyone else thinks if u feel good in them thats all that matters and im glad it gave u more confidence bc that’s what counts. i’m sure that they look lovely on u :)))

the weather has been so hot lately like to the point where its unbearable. i dont leave the house usually but the other day i literally went for a walk bc i couldn’t bear to be inside my house lmaoo and we’re coming on to autumn soon so i hope the temperatures do drop a bit. and ohh im happy u get to ride a bike!! i dont have one myself but my friends always ride around the park near my house and i get to see them sometimes :D

about the petnames im super happy with anything u choose. i couldnt have guessed u were an acquarius tbh idk why but dont worry u dont sound insane im loving ur messages a lot hehe. im a virgo btw from september and yeah the whole overthinking and perfectionism character traits.....very real.

omg i love travel shows, whats the name of that show?? i might check it out. right now i’m just catching up on some tv shows that i watch and watching dramas weekly like atots, we best love, lovely writer. but i also wanna watch something on netflix that can keep me entertained for when i need it.

you’re so so sweet for this message and i’m the worst for replying so late but i guess to answer ur question, i haven’t been really feeling genuine happiness lately so that’s why i felt so down. but if i had to name some things... teaching kids online makes me very happy if there is something i enjoy and i’ve been eating healthy and working out for 2 months now and i’ve been super motivated so i’m proud of myself for that. well also i really enjoy cooking, i’ve been trying out new recipes as well so that brings me happiness. and i guess something cheesy like staring at the sunset bc the summer sunsets here are just so gorgeous hehe. thanks for reaching out and i hope you have a lovely night in so cali ;)

[ehstarwar]

under thy own life’s key (1/7)

“The top bunk is missing something.”

“What?”

“Something very important.”

“Rey.”

“A mattress.”

She feels him take a deep breath, chest rising and falling beneath her hands.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We can just… share.”

-

Ben and Rey share a bed on a trip and everything is totally normal and nothing is weird.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2K

Read on AO3

Notes: the sharing a bed trope is the only thing keeping serotonin production in my head, so plz enjoy （´∀｀）ノ♡

Chapter 1: all the world's my way

-

“I think you’re being a little ridiculous.” 

“I am not being ridiculous. If anything, I think I’m being over-cautious; but even that is a stretch.”

“I bet you’re secretly one of those doomsday preppers, who has a titanium panic room with a years worth of food and an armory hidden in their basement.”

“I don’t have a basement.”

“In your closet, then. Or behind a bookshelf. I know you have those.”

“We are going into the mountains. With steep hills and rough terrain and a ton of potential areas to get into an accident. It is helpful to have a car with four-wheel drive.”

“Helpful, not necessary. Your fancy, new, four-wheel drive car does not negate the possibility of us getting into an accident.”

“I does mean that if we do get into an accident, we’ll be more likely to come out unharmed than if we crashed with your death-trap ,of what charitably would be considered, a Tonka Truck. I’d honestly be shocked to find out your car had two-wheel drive at this point, Rey.”

Rey snaps her head towards him, mouth agape in shock and rage.

“My AT-AT is in perfect condition for it’s age, thank you very much.” She crosses her arms and turns her head to stare out the passenger side window, hoping Ben could feel her contempt through her body language.

“For day-to-day life, in a relatively flat city; absolutely. For traversing unfamiliar territory, maybe not,” Ben shrugged. Rey wished she could loathe him for his effortless coolness, but he was Ben. Best friend, always answers her text, brings her food whenever she asks him, lets her use his fancy washer and dryer, changes her air filters without asking, picks up her drink tab more often than not, Ben. 

Also, it’s hard to hate someone when it’s July, and their air conditioner is in perfect working condition, and her’s is… not. Instead, Rey just sits there, giving Ben the silent treatment.

After a terse five minutes of driving, Rey hears Ben sigh and signal to turn. When Rey looks over to see where he’s turning, she sees her favorite restaurant of all time; McDonalds.

She looks over at him, seeing the sheepish expression and knows one thing for sure.

No, she definitely can’t hate Ben.

-

It’s nearing eleven when Rey and Ben finally make it to the cabin with all their friends. After hours of winding roads and steep cliffs, both Ben and Rey are overcome with delight when they see the first sign of civilization in the form of their friends cars. 

Though she would never admit it, Rey was very thankful that Ben insisted on driving them. Atty could not have made it on at least four of those inclines and she’s not sure how Ben knew it would come to that, but that’s a discussion for another time. Preferably when they haven’t been driving for six hours, with only McDonalds to sustain them for the majority of the way. They’re both essentially dead on their feet when they arrive to a drunken chorus of ‘Oh, he’s a jolly good fellow.’

“There you two are! I’ve been worried sick about you for the last three hours! Why haven’t you responded to any of my text?” Hux’s nasally voice shouted at her and Ben as soon as they exited the car. 

“Good to see you, too, Armie,” Ben shouts over his shoulder. Hux looks like he’s about to kill Ben (he’s always been such an angry drunk) when his fiancée comes stumbling over, pushing all four of them into a group hug. 

“Ugh I was so worried about you guys. Couldn’t stop picturing your car driving right off a cliff and the bears finding you and flinging your corpses all over the forrest. Would’ve miss you guys at the wedding.” Poe’s drunken ramblings always made for a good story time the next day, but Rey was pretty sure this one would be skipped. 

“Aw, Poe. You really underestimate Ben’s driving skills. He only ran over, like, four squirrels!” Rey teased, pulling Poe’s arms off them. Ben shot her a nasty look, but Rey just smiled back at him. 

“Well regardless, I’m glad you’re here. In one piece. Well, two pieces. Two complete pieces.” Hux’s face contorts in confusion as he tries to figure out what he’s trying to say. Rey just laughs and goes to help Ben grab their luggage from the trunk. 

Ben has two suit cases that Rey is sure are packed pristinely and contain everything he could possibly need for the upcoming week, whereas Rey has her largest duffle bag (that doesn’t contain any holes), with clothes toiletries haphazardly stuffed in there.

“Okay, so since you guys got here last, I’ll warn you that you get the last pick of rooms. But, like, don’t worry. Your room is super nice… for a basement. But it has it’s own ensuite, which is like super nice,” Poe slurs. 

“Room? Singular?” Ben asks as they follow Poe and hue into the cabin. 

“The cabin only has six rooms, Benjamin. Something you’d be aware of if you’d gotten here sooner.” Rey can’t see Ben’s expression behind her, but she just knows he’s rolling his eyes at Hux.

“It’s got bunk beds! How fuckin awesome is that! Babe, we should’ve taken the bunk bend room. Do you think we should trade?” Poe’s face lights up until he sees the look of disgust Hux has. 

“We have the master suite darling, We are not trading.”

Ben hurmps behind her and Rey has to keep herself from laughing. The cabin itself is beautiful. Large open living room that leads into the kitchen. Floor to ceiling windows the look over the mountain its perched on. The warmth of the fire can be felt all around, giving the cabin such a homey feel.  Part of her wishes she’d worn flannel, just to feel like she fit it her surroundings. But the late-July heat of Chandrila would have been unbearable. 

Rey saunters on, following an unsteady Hux and Poe down a doorway beneath the stair case. It’s tight and winding and Rey has to resist the urge to turn around and see the undoubtably cramped Ben. She would probably laugh too hard, loose her footing and send them all plummeting down the stairs to their deaths. Not the best way to start the bachelor weekend. 

When they make it through another doorway, a small room, containing the pre-assured bunk bed and a small dresser with a TV out of the 1950s’ on top, Rey began feeling the annoyance she’s sure Ben was.

“Okay so, this is the room and that door is the bathroom and… behind us are the stairs. The kitchen is upstairs too. SO are the rest of the rooms. Well, ours is on the second floor. Or the third?” Poe turns to Hux, who is already going back up the stairs, tossing a ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder. Poe follows him up, leaving Ben and Rey in the room alone. 

“It’s… quaint.”

“It’s a shoebox,” Ben huffs, setting down his luggage. 

“I kind of like it. It’ll be like summer camp!” Rey wants to stay optimistic, knowing that spending the next six days in here will be better if she has a partner that’s not so broody. Like Ben is prone to be. Like he absolutely will be unless Rey wears him down. 

“We should see if someone is willing to change rooms-”

“Benjamin Solo, we will not be changing rooms with anybody tonight. They are all drunk. Like, three-dollar-margs-at-Maz’s drunk. If we use our sobriety to con some unsuspecting friend out of their room, we will not hear the end of it. And I, for one, don’t want to start the week off on the wrong foot.” Rey crosses her arm, hopefully showing a steely and firm demeanor. Not that her 5’7 stature is much against his 6’3 sasquatch-ness, but she tries.

Ben hangs his head and she knows she’s won. “Fine, we’ll barter in the morning.”

“Fine. As a gift to you, I will even take the top bunk so that you don’t hit your head on the ceiling. Ya know, with your freakishly tall body, and all,” Rey says. She doesn’t mention that it’s been her life goal to be able to have the top bunk on a bunk bed. One she’s sure she should have outgrown, but clearly hasn't. 

“How generous of you,” Ben says, like he knows. He turns around and walks into the bathroom, probably going to inspect just how much it doesn’t meet his standards. Rey decided so survey her territory and begins climbing  the ladder onto her bunk. 

By the time she makes it to the top of the ladder it is clear that something is missing. Something essential to a bed. Something that makes her second guess using her power of lucidness to take one of her friends room. Something that makes her cringe as she calls out for Ben.

“Yeah?” He asks sticking his head out of the bathroom. 

“The top bunk is missing something.”

“What?”

“Something very important.”

“Rey.”

“A mattress.”

Rey makes it a habit to never let Ben frown. Mostly because he’s her best friend and she’s heard frowning can induce early-onset wrinkles and a whole slew of other reasons that she’s unwilling to admit to herself. But she knows there isn’t much she can do to stop it now.

“That’s it; I’m going to Poe. We shouldn’t be punished for being the last ones here. This is ridiculous-” Ben goes to march up the stairs, but Rey flings herself in front of him, putting her hands on his chest to stop him.

“It is not that big of a deal. I’ll just… make a pallet on the floor. It’s really no trouble.”

“Rey, you shouldn’t have to-”

“It’ll be just like old times! I used to do this all the time when I was a kid. Honestly, I’ll be okay.” Ben goes rigid at her words. Rey thinks he might be the only other person in the world who resents how she grew up as much as she does. This is also something Rey is unwilling to admit to herself as to why.

She feels him take a deep breath, chest rising and falling beneath her hands.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor. We can just… share,” Ben says, making Rey smile. 

“Really? You don’t mind?” She implores. He shrugs, remaining indifferent.

“You don’t snore… too badly.” Rey playfully swats his chest and Ben just laughs down at her.

Rey is relived by this. It makes her think this will be fine. That it’ll be no big deal. That sharing a bed with her unearthly beautiful and kind best friend who is built like a brick shit-house and cares about her probably more than she cares about herself will be absolutely, totally, completely fine. 

She hopes.

[arecomicsevengood]

COMICS BLOGGING OF A RAMBLING AND DIGRESSIVE SORT

I am embarrassed to admit it, but I do believe I buy things as a way of coping with my own uselessness. I’d like to attribute a universality to this character flaw, and claim everyone spends money on things they don’t need to fill some sort of existential void at the center of their being. My habits are relatively healthy, some people get shitfaced in response to the stimuli that makes me simply want meat, cheese, and carbohydrates. I have at various times read books at a pace comparable to eating, where everything got finished to make way for something else, but just because “reading books” is viewed as something good for your brain doesn’t make the act of buying them feel any less like a bit of brainless consumerism, especially when one is broke, and a global depression looms. Still, considering my worries that the postal service and retail outlets might go away if we do not support them and this will make life even more unbearable I convinced myself now was not the time to be a spendthrift.

All this is to explain why I bought a handful of comics I wasn’t sure I even expected to be good. Namely, I bought a bunch of issues of Alan Moore’s Tom Strong that I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d read before. I intended to parcel them out and savor them, but when I buy snacks at the grocery store, they get eaten faster than the vegetables. I bought these, along with some other single issue comics, from wowcool.com. From Powell’s, I preordered the first volume of Taiyo Matsumoto’s Ping Pong, which should arrive in a few weeks. I also ordered a few new releases direct from Fantagraphics.

Most notable among these is the Olivier Schrauwen/Ruppert And Mulot collaboration Portrait Of A Drunk. I’m on record as liking all the artists involved, and this one demonstrates why pretty clearly: While Olivier Schrauwen specializes in comedy about dumb guys, itself a form close to my heart, Ruppert And Mulot are darker and meaner, so here the dumb guy is an indifferent murderer. Being set in a pirate milieu allows for pretty amazing sequences of action and hallucination to flourish, their skills at color and composition tie it all together. Highly recommended. The back of the book announces Fantagraphics will be publishing the Ruppert And Mulot books made in collaboration with Bastien Vives starting next year. Hopefully I will end up reading comics by people other than my known favorites this year, but during a period of belt-tightening, there’s no guarantee even one’s favorites will live up to the increasingly-burdensome expectations put upon them.

Still, those Tom Strong comics outperformed my expectations. I believe I discussed how much I like Chris Sprouse’s work when I wrote about Alan Moore’s Supreme run, but let me reiterate: There’s a handful of comics Sprouse drew in the early nineties (A Batman annual with a Two-Face story written by Andy Helfer, an eighty-page Justice League Quarterly story, the first few issues of Legionnaires) which are emblematic of a certain DC Comics skillset I really value: This George Perez style ability to draw a lot of characters, rendered with this Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez spareness, this Kevin Maguire sense of facial expressions, a certain openness to the faces which is youthful and attractive and optimistic. There’s something similar to Graham Nolan’s art too: I don’t know how much other people like this stuff, it’s not really “cool” or gnarly looking, but there’s an unobtrusive cleanliness I associate with the DC “vibe” of this era, which I find vastly more appealing than the sort of post-Image-studios runoff that was their standard look more recently. As much as I love a good stylist, his is a good house style variant. Considering that, it rules that Tom Strong is what Chris Sprouse is known for. Those early nineties comics all have a lot of panels per page, but Moore, working in a post-Image mode, lets him breathe and do action sequences. He’s not an explosive artist, his drawing has this sort of style-guide quality to it, that feels perfect for the sort of “platonic ideal of a mainstream genre comic” tone that their collaborations aim for.

Reading these comics, I realized a few things: One, I hadn’t actually read them before. Two, they’re twenty years old. The years have been kind to them, in that I spent them aging, and while I was really into Top Ten and Promethea as a teenager, I still suspect that if Tom Strong is your favorite Alan Moore comic you are probably a dad. There’s a heavily nostalgic quality to all the genre pastiche going on, and its anchored by this character who is pretty upstanding, possessing this sort of all-seeing but benevolent competence aspect, and the storytelling affirms his liberal values. Peaceful coexistence is treated as preferable to violent conflict. It’s the work where Moore’e desire to issue a corrective to what he sees as a negative influence he had is most evident, it genuinely seems to be trying to be morally instructive to a young audience. I don’t think any of these things are bad, but it’s pretty easy to see how, reading the issues as they came out, many of them would register as somewhat bland. I seem to recall comic book writers at this time like Warren Ellis, Grant Morrison, and Mark Millar all deriding what they called “dad comics,” not necessarily talking about Tom Strong, as a way of hyping up their own efforts, many of which I followed more avidly at the time but do not expect would hold up nearly as well. (There’s an issue that’s a homage to old Captain Marvel Family comics, featuring a few pages of Kyle Baker art, I particularly enjoyed.)

After being reminded that Moore is a great writer, and never forgetting for a second we live in dark times, it felt appropriate to read From Hell again. I texted a friend and found he had started rereading it at the same time. I don’t consider it Moore’s masterpiece the way that contrarians that don’t want to give the nod to Watchmen do. While the darkness feels organic to the subject matter in a way it often doesn’t in Moore’s eighties superhero work, I do feel the whole “Jack The Ripper gives birth to the twentieth century” thing is a bit of a reach. I believe I will end up reading some of Eddie Campbell’s solo comics before quarantine is over, I am impressed by how organic the pacing feels, how natural it progresses while largely avoiding calling attention to Moore as a writer. The skill set that enables Moore to do a densely researched historical conspiracy thing is evident when he does a genre serial. Many of the elements in Tom Strong do not feel like they are imagined from whole cloth so much as they feel appropriated from various sources and then connected into this larger whole. The “peaceful coexistence” remit of Tom Strong allows for a structure where stories that seems tossed-off come back into play as plot elements. You rarely receive this kind of payoff from extended serials, but it’s built into the structure of screenwriting, and it is satisfying to retroactively realize like you weren’t having your time wasted when you thought you were.

I also ordered from Wowcool the Dunja Jankovic comics Sparkplug put out circa ten years ago. They’re very cool, reminiscent of Anke Feuchtenberger and Gary Panter, slowly shifting their sense of texture over multiple pages, so that while I don’t think I realized at the time these comics were released that they’re very well-drawn, it is obvious when you actually read them. I anxiously await her “Richter’s Game” minicomic being translated into English, though obviously this is going to be a tough year for self-publishers selling zines with widespread show cancellations. My hope is that Fantagraphics’ Now anthology will just start running work by people like Dunja, Alyssa Berg, Nick Norman, and Beatrix Urkowitz, but maybe there are good reasons for that not to occur. Maybe anthology pages can’t compete with the profits one stands to gain from self-publishing, or maybe my own idea of what I consider my broad-minded and catholic tastes would not actually appeal to large sections of the indie comics market, the same way my idea of what I consider “good” in mainstream comics is actually far too nostalgic a model for the aesthetic preferences of the market as it currently stands. I offer these recommendations solely as another way of coping with my powerlessness.

[neighbours-kid]

August More Like Oh Good It's (Over)

August is quite often a very interesting month for me, especially mentally. At least in the last few years, once August came around, I was usually already very much fed up with summer. Don’t get me wrong here, I love summer, I am okay with heat, I love the whole feeling of summer and just being outside a lot and, y’know, the whole summer holiday vibe.

But often, by August, I am just so done. And the same happened this year too. I am excited about the summer, make plans and have ideas—but then it’s August and I haven’t been outside as much as I would have liked, I haven’t been at a beach, haven’t seen the ocean, haven’t even been to a pool or swam in a lake or river—nothing. I’ve been stuck inside for too long even though the heat in my flat was unbearable, I didn’t do any of the things I wanted to really, didn’t read as much as I would’ve liked, and I’m just very done with it all.

So August rolls around and I’m absolutely just in the mood for fall. I don’t want to wear shorts or sleeveless shirts anymore, I want to become a formless blob of warm cozy clothes, of hoodies and scarfs. But I can’t do it, because it’s way too hot. But anyway, that’s August for me, emotionally at least.

I spent most of this month staring into my laptop and watching Michael Sheen in things. I watched 43 of his things, may that be movies, tv show episodes, or short films. And I’m still going strong on the Sheen train, working my way through his entire acting career. He’s just….absolutely marvellous. But I won’t go on and ramble about him here, I’ll keep that for a post about just him.

Other than that, I also watched Harry Potter (all except ‘book seven’ because time ran out) with my lil bro, and honestly just diving back into that world is always a wonderful pleasure and I adore doing it. I might have to re-read the books too soon-ish.

See, that’s already basically it. I really didn’t do much this month. Well…I bullshitted a paper and it’s awful and I really hope I‘ll get a passing grade, even though I am actually highly doubting that I will. I’ve also tried studying for two exams I’ll have two weeks from now, but I just, for some reason, don’t currently have the brain for it. I get incredibly easily distracted and don’t have enough of a panic in me right now to feel like I have to do it. Not sure why that is. I also meant to read some books for university (which I will have an exam about in December) but even that hasn’t happened yet. I felt very much disconnected from everything this month. It’s not really positive, I think.

I am honestly very glad August is over now. I am looking forward to fall very much, to starting uni again and getting some sort of structure back into my life. I know I’ll be stressed out by it sooner rather than later, but at least for now I am excited about it. Not so much about the exams coming up, but y’know. Ya have to work with what you have.

One thing to stand out in this month, naturally, was my birthday. I celebrated twice because I couldn’t be bothered mixing my friend groups, and I think it was rather a good idea. I got to celebrate on the day of my birthday with friends from university and we had a really great night. And then two days later I celebrated with friends from church and my old school and that was super lovely as well. Birthdays always feel a bit odd to me, if I’m honest. There’s just something about them that makes me think a lot. I don’t know.

But anyway…this was my August. Hopefully September will be a bit more eventful and I‘ll actually have something to talk to y‘all about. Until then—goodbye.