#is hunky fucking dory now that one of their parents got it

[bumpscosity]

Remember how I said if December went wrong it’s be my last straw. My dad got covid.

[zombiemollusk]

so i wanna talk about merna

merna was a little caterpillar kid who hatched from an egg, so named due to being the child of jana and mertreon; this naming convention becomes important later.

incidentally, jana would later request to be my spouse, to which i agreed because why not, i'll marry almost anyone who asks me in this game, but in any case, this made merna my stepkid.

i raised the baby with love, etc. etc., got them up to rank ten, and eventually...

...they became my first disciple, and so far the only one who's asked (the others i picked).

they were uh. very dedicated.

anyway, all's going hunky dory, when one day an incredible development happened:

i didn't know followers could fall in love with each other at all (as opposed to just falling for me) until this happened, and i certainly didn't expect it to be my stepkid with my pet cat narinder.

i decided this opportunity was too good to waste, so...

...and then...

...voilà, weird lumpy baby!

remember what i said about my method for naming babies? well, guess what.

that's right, the one who waits had a baby and i named it merder.

side note, merder would go on to be the first of my followers to request that i, you guessed it...

...fucking murder someone. yeah, that's nari's kid alright, and i named them well.

anyway, back to the- what's this?

merna has fallen in love with leshy! well, i'm not about to claim full monopoly on polyamory (i feel like there's a pun in there), and the first baby was so cute, so i had them make an egg as well.

before i continue, here's leshy graciously thanking me for getting him laid:

anyway, mershy was born.

so after tha- huh?

well.

unfortunately i didn't get screenshots of the next two, but in summary:

that's right, everyone: my stepkid and disciple, merna, successfully turned the entire bishop pantheon into their harem.

and as i'm not one to waste an opportunity like this, i'd like to introduce you all to...

...my collection of weird lumpy stepgrandchildren (plus merna wearing a lovely hat there).

and yes, i made them all disciples.

they would go on to have romantic adventures of their own, many of which being with their aunt/uncles/whatever-the-gender-neutral-word-for-those-is to my increasing horror, disgust, and endless amusement; mershy asked me, their stepgrandparent, for my hand in marriage once (i turned them down; i did say almost anyone; definitely not my own grandkid, blood-related or not); mermar did not ask for my hand in marriage but did ask for a wedding dress and a wedding suit to wear (the game wouldn't let me without marrying them so i didn't do that either, though weirdly enough they spoke as if i made the dress when they requested the suit), and merder became lovers and had a child with a follower who asked me to kill someone as a prank, because of course that's merder's type. but sadly this post is running out of space for images so i won't be posting pics of all that, and this post is about merna anyway.

now, i can't say they're perfect in love...

...or as a parent...

...but i still couldn't ask for a better, more memorable first disciple of the game.

here's to you, merna. please keep being you for as long as i play the specific save file in which you reside. 💖

[mejomonster]

im gonna embrace the medical trauma tbh. lil neurofeedback brain scan says the trauma came from childhood i say alrighty i guess that explains me fainting when i see a needle. me getting stabbed with needles nonstop since September started cause of health issues. i think i get to avoid medical genre shows forever if i feel like it. im tired. i had to get over needles stabbing me this month. congrats. i don’t even faint anymore. still sucks and i cant look at my arms cause i will go queasy if i see them. im tired. im gonna be avoiding any mentions of medical stuff for a while that isnt my doctors literally doing stuff or trying to figure stuff out

[theminecraftbox]

Well now I'm curious!

Eldritch Confessions Au:

What was your guys' childhood like?

/dsmp /rp

Sam: It was… quiet, I guess? We didn’t live near a lot of people. I didn’t have a lot of friends. I was busy with my studies. I made, uh, lots of stuff. Devices, and other things.

Dream: I bet Sam thinks I didn’t even have a childhood. Maybe—maybe I spawned fully formed!

(Sam rolls his eyes.)

Sam: Obviously you had a childhood. I’m sure you spent it pulling wings off butterflies and things like that.

Dream: You’re thinking of Quackity.

Quackity: Nah, nah. I only pulled the legs off cockroaches. Only the insects that had it coming.

Dream: Naturally, naturally.

Quackity: …So, what, am I expected to give some fucking sob story now?

Dream: (dryly) I mean, I promise I won’t think less of you.

Quackity: Well, that’s too fucking bad. Because I don’t have one. I loved my parents, I had great friends, I didn’t fuck around with bugs. Everything was hunky-goddamn-dory.

Dream: Yeah, yeah, you seem very—very well-adjusted.

Quackity: I’m getting fucking sick of this guy, Sam.

Sam: Join the club.

Dream: …well. I mean. I grew up kinda—I dunno what you’d call it. Kinda, uh, scattered? Server-hopped a lot. Learned a bunch. Had some good teachers, some not so good. Had a lot of, um, close calls. Got a few—got hunted for awhile.

Sam: (scornfully) Breaking laws early, then.

Dream: Okay. Sure.

SCORES: 49-51-55 (max 62)

[icouldntthinkofabetternamesook]

Study of a Family in Contrast

A girl is born in London, England. She has pale blond hair, blue eyes and fair skin. She is a good girl, a smart girl and her parents love her dearly. She goes to church on Sundays, listens to the preacher and does not pray. She looks through stained glass windows and wonders. She looks at people on the street and wonders. She is accepted to Oxford University on scholarship and graduates with a doctoral degree in Anthropology. Her parents hug her goodbye when she gets on a plane ready to take her to the Valley of the Kings.

A boy is born in Khartoum, Sudan. He has dark black hair, brown eyes and dark skin. He is a good boy, a smart boy and his parents love him dearly. He reads books, listens to music and does not fear. He looks at the buildings around him and wonders. He looks at the people around him and wonders. His parents hug him goodbye, when he gets on a plane ready to take him to Brooklyn College in the United States. Years later, he flies back to Africa, a doctorate in Egyptology taking him to the Valley of the Kings.

Years later a dark haired boy and light haired girl live in a house in LA. Their parents met in the Valley of the Kings. Their father plays the saxophone and they dance around the living room to jazz. Their mother reads to them at night, chapters and passages from her college biology textbook, and they fall asleep curled around each other.

A mother, with blond hair and blue eyes, dies in London, England. A father, with black hair and brown eyes, walks to the hotel they're staying at, but breaks down crying before he can explain. Blue and brown eyes, look on in confusion. “Where’s mommy?”

The funeral is on a hot and sunny LA day. A father, who is no longer a husband, stares ahead and sees nothing. His eyes have run dry from crying. A dark skinned hand curls around a lighter skinned hand, brother and sister trying to find what little solace they can. The little girl sobs and tries to climb further into her brother's chair.

It’s not long after the funeral that they come for her. They had never approved of the man their daughter married, with his dark skin and dark eyes and an accent they had never heard from another mouth, stirring up feelings of wrong and different. There’s a lot of accusations: mental unrest, unsuited for parenthood, traveling too much to look after two kids. They gave many reasons to take her away and none for not also taking their grandson, except for eyes that can only look at skin, seeing dark and light. The reasons aren't good enough to break up a family. There’s lawyers and yelling and more lawyers, and eventually they find a judge who looks at the family and can’t see loving siblings, can’t see the desperation in a father’s eyes, can’t see the hate in the grandparent’s. Instead the judge only sees dark skin, and blue eyes, and other, other, other so a family is torn apart and a girl is flown away to London, England.

….

A young man and a young woman walk on a beach, shoes slowly filling with gritty sand. The young man has dark hair, dark skin and dark eyes, like his father. He wears a black pinstripe suit with a black tie, white shirt and scuffed black loafers. It’s far too hot for the early autumn day. The young woman has light hair, light skin and blue eyes, like her mother. She wears a black thigh length dress, black fishnet stockings, a black leather jacket and combat boots. It’s far too hot for the LA sun. It’s the first time either sibling has seen the other in over ten years.

The funeral let out hours ago, researchers and academics having already finished paying respects to their colleague, a titan in the field of Egyptology. It was another annoyingly sunny funeral for this family. It doesn’t get any easier to bury a parent, but ten years certainly makes a difference. A lot can happen in ten years. A brother and sister can forget how to be siblings. Now they sit on a bench overlooking a vast ocean and silently hope the other one will start talking first.

The girl was never any good at being quiet so she gives up the game first. “I kinda think I want to stay in the states for a bit.” She chances a look at her brother's profile. He hasn’t looked at her, back straight and stern eyes locked on the horizon. “I technically do have dual citizenship, and I just finished getting my degree in theatre. Maybe I should stay in LA, try to make it as a star. British accents are sexy after all.” She pauses for a response. Nothing. She fidgets and ties again. “Maybe I could head to Vegas, it always seemed like a fun place to be. I could take a road trip anywhere I liked.”  A glance is shot at her brother. “Maybe you could come with.” Still nothing “Family road trip or whatever.”

Another moment of silence before, “Stop.”

The young woman jumps, double checking that the voice came from her brother beside her. “What? Stop what?”

It’s like a flood gate had been loosened. “Stop acting like we’re family, like we always see each other over school breaks and holidays and this is just a random run in. I haven't seen you in ten years, I haven't been close to you in ten years, the only reason we’re even on the same continent now is that our father-” His hands clench the bench. He ducks his head to avoid letting the young woman beside him see his tears. He takes a steadying breath and continues, “my father is dead.” He looks up again, more in possession of his feelings. Brown eyes look into blue. “Don’t pretend this is normal or that we’re family, when you weren't there.”

Maybe in another time or place with a different family there would be tears and hugs. But not with this family and not with these people. Instead of feeling sorrow and tenderness, the girl sees red. “I wasn’t there? Do you have any idea how you sound!? I didn’t choose to be taken to London, I was a child, I didn’t have a say! You have no idea what it was like to be me, to be thrust into a new country, a new school, an entirely different culture, completely on my own! Everytime I tried to talk about you or dad I just got these blanks stares, no I got stares of disgust and confusion because everytime someone would make a stupid fucking skin tone comment like that mattered! I didn’t have a mom and my dad just didn’t care enough to keep me and it sucked!” She sucks in a breath then continues yelling. Rage is always easier than vulnerability. “So fuck you for saying I’m not part of this family, I already know that, bully me for trying!”

Neither of the siblings are particularly good at desculation. The brother shoots right back, “Oh I’m so sorry people looked at you like that when you talked about your family! Sorry if I don’t sound super sincere, because people look at me like that every minute of my life! There are some things you were just never going to go through, and being taken in by our-your grandparents has only made it so that you can’t understand what me and dad go through. You weren't there. Everything was different for you. You got to have two people to run to when you had problems, and you got to breeze through life with that chip on your shoulder without fear of being seen as a thug! So no, you don’t just get to show up and pretend everything is hunky-dory, because it’s not and we are not on the same level!”

Both siblings heave in anger, both feeling a gap, a loss of half of themself but not feeling any way to fix it. The brother calms down first, and he decides it would be better to leave than continue the fight. He can’t remember why he even wanted to try. Maybe one last shot though, even if just to absolve him of the responsibility of failure.

“Look here’s my number,” he rips out a page from a leather bound journal, jotting down the numbers. He continues, “maybe, give it a call, maybe don’t.” He hands it to her and stands up. “Have fun in Vegas. I’m flying back to Brooklyn tomorrow and frankly I hope I never see you again.”

He goes to walk away. A hand on his wrist stops him. His sister pulls out an old gum wrapper and jots down a different number. “Mine too. You don’t just get to walk away and put this on me. I’m staying at an AirBNB down on Diamond Street, if you want to swing by. Maybe talk more.” She hands it to him, then gets up herself.

A pair of siblings walk in the opposite direction on a beach, gritty sand filling their shoes. They’re both left with the lingering feeling that their parents would be very sad to look at them and see only strangers.

...

The phone rings showing a number with no contact name. Someone picks up immediately, having already memorized the number.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a pause before the young man continues, “So you decided not to fly back.” A pause. “Where you headed?”

A feminine voice sighs. “Thought I might give Vegas a try, then see what happens. Easy to make it up when it’s just you.”

“Well you see about that….actually my flight back to Brooklyn got cancelled at the last minute.” The flight in fact doesn’t leave for two hours.

The excuse is rather transparent. “Oh really. Well that's a stroke of bad luck.”

“Especially seeing as my hotel reservation expired this morning. I was thinking maybe I could just drive back to the East Coast.”

“Well I’ve always heard that road trips are an American tradition.”

“Yes, seeing as you’re headed that way….” the young man trails off.

His sister picks it up “.....Driver gets to pick the music.”

“Then I get first turn at the wheel, I have no clue what sort of abomination you listen to but smooth jazz is the best for driving.”

“Ugh, I’m going to regret this aren't I,” but the young woman is smiling brightly. Two siblings continue to talk on the phone, hoping to find common ground. After all they’re family.

[ceealaina]

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

“Mr. Rogers? Could I—,” 

Tony cut himself off abruptly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was quite possible that Tony kinda liked him. 

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve blinked. “What?” 

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course it is!” 

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

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

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

“I can.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yikes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony snorted with laughter, before he realized Steve was serious and did his best to compose himself. “I’m sorry, how do you not know anything about soccer? You’re…” He gestured vaguely to indicate Steve’s general physique, and Steve sighed glumly. 

“Yeah, I think that was the administration’s thought too. But I grew up as a scrawny art student. I know baseball, and that’s it.” 

“Huh. The more you know.” 

Steve groaned. “So now I’ve got to learn all these soccer rules for tomorrow, none of which make any sense to me.” He frowned down at the manual. “And aren’t there linebackers and quarterbackers and shit?” 

Tony couldn’t help laughing then, not even trying to hide it. “Steve, that’s football.” 

“Yeah,” Steve replied, in his ‘duh, Tony,’ voice. “Which is soccer.” 

They were still arguing about the two different kinds of football when Steve realized that he had parking lot duty. Not one to admit defeat, Tony had tagged along with him. He was once again trying to explain why American football was called football (“but it doesn’t even make sense if they barely use their feet, Tony!”) when a bright, flashy convertible had pulled into the pick-up lane. Tony caught a glimpse of Steve’s confused frown before the car pulled forward enough that he could see the driver and he went stock still, grabbing at Steve’s arm.

“Honeybear?” he yelped, loud enough that a couple of the lingering students turned their way as well. Steve gave Tony a bewildered stare but Tony hardly noticed, his eyes focused on Rhodey, leaning up until he was practically out of his seat and waving his arm at him, looking delicious in a tight white t-shirt that pulled against his biceps. 

“Hey, Tones! Guess who’s back, baby!” 

Tony made a noise that a lesser man might have even called a squeal, but he felt exactly zero shame about it as he took off for the car. “Bye Steve, gotta go, see you Monday!” he hollered over his shoulder as he went. He didn’t bother with the door, hopping over the side and sliding into the passenger seat. Rhodey lingered just long enough for Tony to give him an enormous kiss on the cheek before the two of them sped off.

“Uh. Bye,” Steve told them empty space beside him.

*

“So,” Rhodey said, yelling a little to be heard as they sped down the freeway with the top down, wind whistling through the car. “Was that your big gay crush?” 

Tony choked on nothing, turning his head to face him so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash. “My what?” he repeated. 

Rhodey looked over at him long enough to give him a stare. “Literally every conversation we’ve had in the past few weeks has been about him, Tones.” 

“That’s not the proper use of the word literally,” Tony grumbled, and Rhodey shrugged, letting it slide. 

Tony couldn’t though, milling it over in his head, and when they turned into the Italian restaurant in Bridgeport, he turned to Rhodey again. 

“Okay, no, so wait. Why do you think I have a crush on Steve?” 

“Tones…” Rhodey gave him a fond smile. “Come on, man, we’ve been friends for how many years now? I know what you look like when you’re crushing on someone. Even if apparently you don’t.” He gave him a pointed look, snorting when Tony just rolled his eyes at him. “You talk about him all the time. And sure, some of it is ‘complaining’ about how big and beefy he is, but a lot of it is how smart he is, and how funny, and how he’ll always call you on your shit… You don’t have to actually say the words, Tony. I can just tell.” 

Tony pouted at the dashboard, mulling this over. “You’re dumb,” he decided finally, ignoring Rhodey’s snickers as he climbed out of the car. “Hurry up, asshole. I’m starving. And I don’t have a crush on Steve!” 

“Alright, alright, fine,” Rhodey soothed, obviously not believing him in the slightest. “Whatever you say.” 

Tony shot him a glare and didn’t hold the door for him as he headed into the restaurant. After that was the usual flurry of activity when Anna spotted them from behind the cash and hollered at Roberto to come out from the kitchen so they could make their usual fuss over the two of them. He and Rhodey had found the place by accident on a Boston to New York road trip in college, and at this point they'd been coming back for fifteen years. 

With all the distractions, Tony was well into the garlic bread before another thought occurred to him. “Waiiiit,” he mumbled around a full mouth. He narrowed his eyes at Rhodey, who blinked back at him over his glass of wine. “Is that why you rented the flashy convertible? And why you used the pick-up lane? You never do that, you know it’s just supposed to be for students that time of day. Did you do that so Steve would see? Because you think I’m into him?” 

Rhodey shrugged, looking smug and pleased with himself. “I already know you’re emotionally stunted, but I figured if Steve hadn’t gotten off his ass and asked you out yet, maybe there was a chance he was just as bad.”

“Or, he could just be straight,” Tony pointed out which, he realized belatedly, wasn’t exactly a denial of his crush on Steve.

Rhodey just snorted. “No man could be totally straight around you, Tones. You’re a catch,” he informed him, just to see Tony try to not look all pleased and delighted. “Anyway, I figured -- assuming he’s not straight -- that it couldn’t hurt to give him something to be a little jealous of. And he was definitely gonna be jealous of me.” Rhodey lifted his arms, flexing them so his t-shirt once more strained against his t-shirt. “If you’re a catch, then I’m Moby Dick baby.” He beamed when Tony giggled into his salad. “You need me to be your big gay wingman? I’m 100% here for you, Tones.” 

Tony just shook his head, still laughing. “You’re such a dumbass,” he informed him.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.” 

* 

The weekend had been everything Tony hadn’t realized he needed, the two of them doing all their favourite things and generally leaving a wake of chaos wherever they went. Tony loved his life, felt very fulfilled by what he did and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. But he always missed Rhodey like a limb when he wasn’t around, and having him back again, even temporarily, set something at ease in Tony’s chest.

The only problem, if he could really call it that, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about what Rhodey said about Steve. He hadn’t brought it up again, but that didn’t stop Tony from playing it over and over again, considering the previous conversations he’d had where Steve had been mentioned, with Rhodey, but with Pepper and Happy too. And, as an extension of that, how careful he was not to bring him up when he and Nat would sneak out for gelato over the lunch break, or how he didn’t join in when Bucky would start ragging on Steve in the staff room, all, “Jesus Rogers, you already look like you could stop a helicopter with your bare hands. Maybe give the gym a rest, huh?” (although Tony did have to hide his own smile at the teasing, and a couple times had caught Steve watching him with a look that one might have even described as pleased.)

And of course, thinking about all of that led to thinking about Steve himself. He was gorgeous, obviously, Tony would have to be blind not to be aware of that. But there was also how much he found himself looking forward to spending time with him, more than almost anyone else. He still hadn’t gotten tired of him, not really, not even when they argued, and he took special pride in finding ways to make Steve laugh. Steve could have been 5’2 and 96 pounds, and he would have enjoyed spending time with him just as much. 

By Sunday night, when Tony found himself lost in thought again, only to realize that he’d spent the last five minutes thinking about the very specific wrinkles Steve would get in his forehead whenever he smiled, Tony had to admit defeat. 

“Fuck,” he announced to his empty living room. “I’ve got a big gay crush on Steve Rogers.” 

To Tony’s credit, once he’d come to a conclusion, he wasn’t the type to sit back and wallow in it. Despite leaving him only an hour later, he grabbed his phone, dialing Rhodey’s number. 

���Hey Tones.” Rhodey answered on the third ring, sounding lazy and also like he was in the middle of eating something. “Miss me already?” 

“Always, honeybear,” Tony responded automatically. “But also, uh… So… You may not have been so crazy after all.” 

“About your big gay crush on the guidance counsellor?” Rhodey asked, because he knew Tony like nobody else. “Obviously.” 

“Shut up,” Tony whined. “You know how much I hate not knowing things.” He grinned at the warm huff of laughter that came down the line at that. “So how would you feel about… Still playing the big gay wingman?” 

“I’m listening…” 

“Our JROTC volunteer is out for the next few weeks, some kind of family thing, and I thought, you know… You can volunteer? Take his place for a bit? And then, you know, you and I can hang out like all the time while you’re on leave, and as an extra bonus, it might make Steve jealous.” 

“I mean, there’s a big difference between that, and picking you up at school in a shiny car,” Rhodey pointed out. “Sounds kinda complicated. I’d probably end up meeting him, even. You sure you don’t just want to… Tell him how you feel?”

Tony scoffed down the line. “I know you like to offer that advice for every situation, but I want you to know that the only reason that worked for you and Carol is because she thought your dumb drunk ass needed protecting. You triggered her alpha instinct, that’s all.” 

“If you say so,” Rhodey told him, but Tony could already tell he was going to say yes. “Fine. But I want you to know, it’s a stupid idea, and I’m only agreeing so I have a chance to bug you while you’re trying to work.” 

Tony beamed. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

*

Somewhere along the way, Steve’s (not-so) subtle ogling of Tony had turned into a full-on crush, and that had grown until Steve was pretty sure he was half in love with the man. He was doing his best to be cool about it, but he’d never met anyone quite like Tony Stark before. He found him constantly drifting into his thoughts, despite his best efforts otherwise, couldn’t seem to stop daydreaming about them being more than friends, even when he tried to tell himself that Tony was probably straight.

Or at least, he had thought that Tony was straight, right up until Friday afternoon. 

Steve knew it was none of his business. He had his own life out of work, and so did Tony, and that was fine. It didn’t stop him from driving himself crazy wondering who the hell the gorgeous man who picked Tony up from school on Friday had been, and what their relationship was. The sheer joy that had been in Tony’s voice when he’d called out to him had left Steve’s heart somewhere around his knees, made worse by the so obviously affectionate and familiar nickname. He hadn’t missed the enormous cheek kiss that Tony had given him either. And sure, a kiss on the cheek didn’t necessarily scream romantic relationship, and they could just as easily be friends. But there was an ugly part of Steve that kept rearing up, insisting that he would consider himself and Tony to be friends, and he had never gotten a kiss cheek. 

By Monday morning, Steve was practically itching to see Tony. Bucky, he knew, was totally sick of him after Steve had spent the entire weekend oscillating between moping and distraction, and refusing to tell him why. But the Home Ec room was right beside Tony’s classroom, so instead of going to his own office, Steve followed Bucky upstairs and then stood outside the doorway as Bucky made sure the cooking stations were prepped for the day, talking at him from the hallway. And the second he saw Tony making his way toward his classroom, looking sleepy and still a little out of it, he turned away entirely, not noticing that he was abandoning Bucky mid-sentence. 

“Hey Tony!” 

It went downhill from there. Tony made a strangled yelping noise, which Steve would have found adorable if not for the way everything he was holding scattered. His bag fell from his shoulder, flap opening and sending a cascade of pens and pencils and erasers flying across the floor. The cell phone he’d been texting on hit the ground with a thud that made Steve wince, and a tumbler went rolling off down the hall, leaving behind a dribbled trail of coffee leaking from the lid. 

“Oh shit,” Steve said, staring horrified at the mess for a minute before he moved to help, grabbing the tumbler as it started to roll past him and getting coffee all over his hand in the process. He ignored it, moving to help gather Tony’s other things. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Tony reassured him, already bent over and picking things up. “I was just distracted. You startled me, is all.” 

“Still,” Steve insisted, and was about to explain further but he and Tony both reached for a pen at the same time, heads cracking together. “Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony clasped a hand to his forehead with a pained noise, cursing creatively under his breath. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” They both straightened up, and he offered Tony a rueful smile. “I was just gonna ask how your weekend was.” 

“Oh!” The pain on Tony’s face melted away entirely as he smiled soft and sweet and pleased in a way that Steve didn’t think he’d quite seen before. He tried to keep his own smile normal, but all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what a smile was supposed to feel like, or what he even normally did with his face or arms or hands. Tony didn’t seem to notice. “It was really, really great. I got to spend the entire weekend with my Rhodeybear. It was just what I needed. He’s like my other half, and I missed him like crazy. Hey!” His entire face lit up. “You should meet him sometime.” 

“Right.” Steve nodded as normally as he could. “Yeah, maybe. That would be… Great. I’m glad you had a nice time, Tony,” he added, at least managing to be genuine with that. “I gotta get to work, but I’ll catch you later?” He started to head for his office, and then realized he was still holding the travel mug. “Oh right, here.” 

He handed it over, taking a moment to suck away a stray drop of coffee that was sliding down the side of his index finger. Then Tony made a worrying wheezing noise and Steve stopped, staring at him. “Are you alright?” 

Tony nodded just a couple more times than Steve would have classified as normal. “Yup,” he said, suddenly mumbling and not quite meeting Steve’s eyes. “Just gotta…” He trailed off and darted into his classroom without any further explanation. 

“Okayyyy?” Steve said. 

*

Tony was acting weird, there was no doubt about it. Steve had assumed that after crashing into each other, they might meet for lunch as usual, but otherwise go about their day. Instead, Tony had popped into his office no less than four times that morning, every time on official business, but with fiddly little things that could have been passed along by a student messenger, or an email. But he’d also spotted Tony outside his office several other times, sometimes lingering outside his door absorbed in something on his phone, sometimes just walking down the hall just a little too casually to be entirely normal. Steve couldn’t think of another reason for him to be in this particular hallway, but Tony would look up from his phone like he hadn’t realized this was even where he was, and a couple of times Steve had glanced up just in time to see Tony’s eyes dart away like he’d been staring at him right before. The few times they’d made full eye contact and Steve had smiled at him, Tony’s return smile had been what Steve might have called shy, if it had been coming from anyone besides Tony. 

His first thought was that Tony had figured out about the crush (not an obsession, whatever Bucky said) Steve had on him, and was freaked out, and that’s what was making him act so weird. But when they met up for lunch everything seemed normal between them, and Tony certainly didn’t act like someone who was freaked out. And Steve knew Tony well enough by now that he was pretty sure if his feelings weren’t returned, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to let him know -- gently, and he’d probably be real sweet about it, but he wouldn’t let Steve drive himself crazy wondering, wouldn’t give him a chance to make a fool of himself over it. 

And then he thought it might have had something to do with his company over the weekend, this Rhodey guy that Steve was absolutely not jealous of, that he was the one that had Tony all twisted up in knots. Tony had sounded smitten with him, but then again, Tony was dramatic like that. It didn’t have to mean there was anything there. And that wouldn’t have explained why he was acting so weird around Steve, who didn’t even know the guy.  

Which led Steve to his next thought, the one that felt a little too fantastical to be true, even if the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit. Because the little smiles, the almost blushes that Tony would have… What if Steve’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he had thought? Maybe Tony had a thing for him too, and that’s why he was acting all flustered and strange? Steve knew he was probably not the most unbiased opinion, that wanting it to be true was maybe skewing his perspective a little, making him see things a certain way. But if Tony didn’t suddenly hate him -- and he was positive that wasn’t the case -- was it so crazy to think that the little glances and smiles were a sign of something more?

He felt bolstered by the idea, unable to let it go once it was in his head. He’d never been one for letting things slide, and almost immediately he made up his mind to Talk To Tony, to maybe ask if he wanted to grab coffee after work, or a drink, and then he could tell him how he felt, see if he felt the same. 

His morning flew by, distracted by daydreams of what would come next. Steve had always been a visual thinker, and he could picture all too clearly the slow smile that would spread across Tony’s cheeks when he realized his feelings weren't unrequited, the way he’d duck his head and glance up through his eyelashes (a move that always drove Steve crazy). How drinks could lead to dinner, which could lead to walking him home and -- since it was Steve’s daydream, dammit -- having Tony inviting him inside. What it would be like to finally get to kiss him, to feel his skin under his fingers with purpose, instead of just a glancing brush as they shared food or walked along beside each other?

He was still daydreaming about it when he walked into the gym right before lunchtime, intending to ask Clint another question about soccer, and stopped dead. 

He had been very, very wrong.

Tony was there, for some reason, but even more confusing was the fact that this Rhodey guy was with him. Not that the why of it really mattered, Steve supposed. Tony was practically hanging off the other man’s back, crooning into his ear. As Steve watched, he pressed a big sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek. “Come on, platypus,” he wheedled, delight evident in his voice. Rhodey was shaking his head and pretending to be annoyed but there was a fond, pleased smile on his face and his hand came up to hold on to Tony’s arm around his chest. 

Steve may have been accused of being hopelessly optimistic, but he wasn’t naive. Whatever had had Tony acting so weird before, it obviously wasn’t a crush on Steve.

Suddenly very much needing to be anywhere else, Steve turned to try and sneak back out of the gym and promptly tripped over a stray basketball. He couldn’t help cursing as he rolled his ankle, and then winced as the sound rang out through the mostly empty space. 

“Steve!” Tony looked startled at his sudden appearance, doing a weird little fidgety dance before he forced himself to still and gave him a bright smile. “Come here! You didn’t get to meet him last week, come meet my Rhodeybear!” 

Steve started to mumble out some excuse about paperwork or meetings, but almost instantly Tony was across the room, grabbing him by the arm and forcibly pulling him over to Rhodey, who was very obviously trying not to laugh. 

“Rhodey, this is Steve, our new guidance counselor. Steve, this is Colonel James “Rhodey” Rhodes. I talked him into volunteering with the ROTC kids while he’s on leave for the next month.”

Steve managed a smile as Rhodey reached out, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Hey man. Good to finally meet you. Tones talks about you all the time.” 

He glanced at Tony over Steve’s shoulder, and something on Tony’s face made him laugh. His eyes were sharp and perceptive and Steve felt a flare of panic because oh shit, he knew. Somehow this man had figured out that Steve had a crush on his boyfriend. And the worst part was that he didn’t seem angry. There was no threat in his handshake, his smile open and friendly.

“Uh, good to meet you too,” he managed, doing his best to smile back at him and not look like he was having a complete panic attack. 

There was something so effortlessly cool about Rhodey. He was, frankly, gorgeous, with his teasing smile and ridiculously well-fitting leather jacket to boot, but he seemed genuinely nice too. He could have been a total ass, throwing it in Steve’s face that he was with Tony, but there was nothing of that in his body language. Steve couldn’t help liking him immediately, and he usually had good instincts for these things. But he also couldn’t help being intimidated and more than a little jealous -- although, for a moment he wasn’t entirely sure of which one. It was definitely Rhodey; his ridiculous crush was on Tony, so of course Rhodey was the one he was jealous of. It was maybe also a little bit Tony because fuck, Rhodey was cool. 

Steve was barely aware of the conversation that followed, feeling his heart sink lower every time he caught a glimpse of the besotted smile on Tony’s face. They made small talk for a few minutes, and at least he was pretty sure that he hadn’t said anything too strange, even if he sort of felt like his own face was melting. There were vague plans made for the three of them to get together for drinks or something in the next few weeks (Steve had exactly zero intention of following through on that particular idea) and then he was finally able to make his escape. Feeling like an absolute idiot, he slipped his way down the hall and back to his own office, where he shut the door firmly behind him and slunk down in his desk chair, letting his head fall against the desk with a slight bang, whining into the empty space. 

After that, Steve backed off a little, not wanting to seem like he was encroaching on their relationship. He was crazy about Tony, but he wanted him to be happy, and the two of them seemed right together. And clearly Rhodey had a good effect on Tony, because after a few more days whatever seemed to be going on with him stopped too. The manic behaviour evened out as he went back to how they’d been before, if maybe slightly more awkward than they’d once been. They still met for lunch regularly, still got along stupidly well, goofing around and joking and making each other laugh. If their lunches were slightly less often than they’d once been, well, Steve supposed that made sense when Tony’s boyfriend was right there at the school with him. He should be glad he still got lunch with Tony at all. 

A few more weeks, and even that slight awkwardness had faded. They were warm and  familiar around each other again, their new normal somehow less and more than it had been before. Steve still had a thing for Tony, but now it felt settled into him, like it was just a part of who he was. He didn’t want to admit it, but he thought he might have settled right into being completely in love with Tony. But he could be normal around him, because that was just part of their friendship, loving Tony just a part of who he was now. He felt right being around Tony, even if there was sometimes a bittersweet ache, and he wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything. 

But every once in awhile, he’d catch Tony giving him a soft, sad smile that he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see, a look on his face that Steve might have described as just a little disappointed, and he couldn’t help wondering. Maybe if Tony had been single, and maybe if Steve had been just a little less scared, they might have been able to have something more between them. 

*

Tony huffed out a sigh, having no idea what was going on in the movie he was watching with Rhodey. “Honeybear,” he said. “I think it’s time to admit defeat.” 

“Tony Stark? Giving up?” Rhodey rolled his head along the back of the couch, giving Tony a slightly tipsy grin. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” 

“Hilarious,” Tony told him dryly, grinning despite himself. “I’m serious. I don’t think Steve is into me. I thought he was jealous at first but…” He shrugged helplessly. “And we’re friends. Like, really good friends. He’s probably the person I trust most after you. I shouldn’t try to mess with that, right?” 

“I don’t think it’s messing with it, exactly,” Rhodey told him. “Starting a romantic relationship with him isn’t necessarily better or worse than being friends. It’s just... Different.” He obviously understood Tony’s point though. “You really don’t think there’s anything there?” 

Tony just shrugged again, a crooked, self-deprecating smile on his lips, and Rhodey rubbed his hand over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry man,” he told him, hauling Tony against him for a hug.

“It’s okay,” Tony mumbled into Rhodey’s neck, though his arms squeezed around his waist, holding on tight for a long minute. “Really. I love having him as a friend too, and I’ll get over the whole crush thing eventually. I’ll be okay. I always am.” 

Rhodey hummed, sounding like he didn’t quite believe him. “Still. Ice cream and bourbon in the meantime?” 

Tony managed a real smile then, though he didn’t let go of Rhodey right away. “Definitely.”

*

Steve sat alone in the restaurant, fighting a smile at the sympathetic looks he kept getting from the wait staff. He was meeting his friend Sharon for dinner after she’d been overseas for the last six months on a work contract. But Sharon was notoriously bad at personal appointments, so it was hit or miss whether she’d actually turn up or if she would cancel at the last minute again. Steve wasn’t really phased, used to it by now. 

He was occupying himself with games on his phone when he heard a familiar voice. He frowned at the screen, trying to place it before he looked up and made awkward eye contact with someone he’d rather avoid, and then realized it was Rhodey. Immediately he wondered if Tony was with him, and his heart beat a little faster at the thought, even though he’d just seen him a few hours ago. Looking around for them, he smiled when he spotted Rhodey’s familiar form first. And then his heart stopped beating completely for a moment. 

Rhodey wasn’t with Tony. 

There was a woman with him, tall and muscular with short blonde hair. She was just as gorgeous as Rhodey, the two of them an admittedly stunning pair. She was laughing too, not quite as loud, and there was a softness in her eyes as she smiled at him. Then Rhodey’s hand came up, sliding across the table to tangle his fingers with hers, the movement familiar and intimate. He leaned forward, murmuring something soft that Steve couldn’t catch, and then she was pulling back with a wide smile. 

“Check please?” she hollered with absolutely no decorum, making Rhodey burst out laughing again. 

Steve ducked behind his menu, watching the two of them gather up their things. He didn’t particularly want to confront Rhodey here and now, just in case he was wrong, but fortunately (or not) they only seemed to have eyes for each other. Rhodey helped her with her jacket, making the woman snort and try to elbow him, and he kept his hand very low on her back, right on the edge of being inappropriate, as they walked to the door. Steve turned away as they walked right past the table, but he looked up in time to see them pause in the foyer, mostly out of sight, before the women fisted her hands in Rhodey’s shirt and pulled him for a slow, lingering, hungry kiss. Rhodey looked downright dazed when she’d pulled back, until she said something else to make him laugh and the two of them slipped out the front door. 

Steve stared at the space where they’d been for a long time after they’d gone. 

“Shit.” 

*

Sharon did end up cancelling on him, and with Bucky away on a bonding trip with some old army buddies, Steve was left alone to stew around the apartment all weekend. Normally he’d probably have gone to Tony for advice, but that obviously wasn’t an option here and Steve didn’t know what to do. 

He knew he should tell Tony; he’d want to know if it were him. But then there was the question of if he’d want Steve to be the one to tell him -- or, for that matter, if Steve wanted to be the one to tell him, which he definitely didn’t. If Tony had figured out about Steve’s crush on him, would he even believe him? He honestly didn’t know what he would do if Tony thought he was making it up to get between him and his boyfriend. He’d like to think Tony knew him better than that, but people could get weird about their significant others. 

By Monday morning, Steve still had no idea what he was going to do. He had barely slept all weekend and was tired and miserable, found himself taking the long way round to his office to avoid the chance of running into Tony in the staff room. 

“Wow, Rogers. You look terrible.” 

Lost in thought, Steve nearly jumped at the sound of Nat’s voice. He looked up to see her sitting in her classroom, grading papers and watching him with an amused look on her face. 

“Yeah,” he rubbed at the back of his neck absently. “I just didn’t sleep well.” 

Some of the amusement slid off her face and she arched an eyebrow at him. “You okay?” 

Steve shrugged. ”Just… Life,” he offered vaguely. Then he blinked at her, eyes going wide. “You can help me though! I… I need you to talk to Tony for me. It’s kind of a big thing. Please, Nat? I don’t know what else to do. I don’t… I’m worried he’ll hate me if I tell him, or won’t believe me, or both. But it won’t seem so…  personal coming from you. Blunt honesty is your whole thing, right? Plus he’s more likely to believe you when he’s already half terrified of you anyway.”

Nat was back to looking amused, trying to follow Steve’s rambling. “And why is Tony half terrified of me?”

Steve winced. “Uh… There’s a rumor going around that you’re secretly a Russian sleeper agent?” 

“The Cold War ended in 1991,” she told him without missing a beat, voice eerily atonal. “Russia and America are allies now.” 

There was a moment of absolute silence before she cracked up and Steve glared at her.

“That. That is exactly why people are scared of you.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told him airily, before relenting with a sigh. “Okay, so what is it that you need me to tell Tony?” 

“I… Rhodey’s cheating on him,” he blurted out all in a rush, before he could chicken out. “I saw him at dinner on Friday with this gorgeous woman, and they were very clearly together, kissing and everything, and I just… I don’t know how to tell him. 

Nat stared at him, blinked twice, and then burst out laughing. Steve frowned at her, taken aback, but as Natasha kept on laughing, to the point that there were actual tears coming from her eyes, Steve got more and more cranky. Folding his arms across his chest, his frown turned into a full on glare as he waited for her to get control of herself. 

“Are you done?” he asked when she finally stopped laughing what felt like five minutes later. “Cause I’d really like to know what’s so funny about all of this.” 

But Natasha just shook her head, still grinning. “Let me know when you figure it out, Steve.” 

*

By the end of the day, Steve had successfully managed to avoid Tony, and he was exhausted. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, and he didn’t particularly want to. He’d missed Tony today. Even on the days when they didn’t get to spend time together, there was always a smile and wave when they passed each other in the hall. This just felt weird. 

Going the long way again, he made his way to Bucky’s classroom, hovering in the doorway as he watched Bucky put away the last of the materials they’d been using. 

“Hey Buck?” he said after a minute. 

Bucky looked up, frowning at the look on Steve’s face. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” 

Steve ignored that. “Remember, when we were kids, and I grabbed you before you fell off the fire escape showing off for Jenny Calloway? And you said you owed me your first born? I’m cashing in. I need you to do something for me, no questions. And if you laugh at me, I’m gonna punch you so hard your grandkids’ teeth’ll hurt.”

“Well that seems unnecessary,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against one of the work stations. “You know I’d do it if you just said please. Seriously, Stevie, you look like you’re about to pass out. What’s up?” 

“Rhodey is cheating on Tony. I saw him with someone, and… They were definitely together. Can you just like… Let it slip? I’m afraid if I tell him he’ll think I’m lying, because --,”

“You’re desperately in love with him?” he asked, lips quirking up. 

“Buck!” Steve looked around like Tony was suddenly going to pop out of the corner of the classroom and call him out on it. “Come on, this is serious. Don’t fucking laugh at me!” 

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, and was quiet for a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was still fighting back a smile. “Right, okay,” he said, pushing off the desk and striding into the hallway. Steve’s eyes went wide.

“No, shit, wait,” he hissed. “I didn’t mean right now!” He started to follow Bucky down the hall, then stopped after a few feet because Bucky had already reached Tony’s classroom, and he didn't think he wanted to be here for this. But while Steve was debating if he could make it to the stairs before Bucky said something, Bucky knocked sharply on the side of the doorframe. 

“Hey! Stevie thinks you’re dating Rhodes,” he announced, before wandering off down the hall. Steve stared after him because what the fuck, that wasn’t what he’d told him to say, and where was he even going?

Before he had a chance to process, there was a crash from Tony’s classroom and then faintly, the sound of his voice. “Did he just…?” He sounded strangled, and then he was skidding into the hallway, hair standing up about five inches from his head and eyes wild. 

“Um, hi,” he said. Steve could practically see his chest heaving from here.

“Hi,” Steve said back a little stupidly. 

“I’m not dating Rhodey,” Tony burst out, staring at Steve with wide eyes like he couldn’t look away. “Never have been. Well, we had an almost thing in university, but -- that’s not the point. Rhodey and I aren’t together.” He gaze shifted, looking at Steve imploringly. His tongue flicked out over his lips, and Steve swallowed hard. 

“I just…” He took a couple tentative steps toward Tony. “He showed up, and you were all over him, and you had about five million nicknames for him and so… I figured…”

“Nope,” Tony said quickly. “We’re just… Like that. Rhodey is very firmly in love with somebody else. We, uh… I was helping him shop for engagement rings last week.” He took a deep breath and closed the remaining distance between them, eyes somewhere around Steve’s collarbone. “Listen, Rogers. I know Carol looks like a lesbian, but so does Clint with the wrong glasses and a slim-cut pant, so please reconsider your personal biases and trust me. It's her and Rhodey. And it's.... it's you and me. Right?"

Steve could feel the ridiculous smile splitting his cheeks. “Yeah?” he asked, a little breathless. 

“I mean…” Tony looked up at him through ridiculously long eyelashes. “I’d like it to be?” 

There were a million and one things that Steve could say in response to that, but he couldn’t think of a single one. Instead, he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, dipping his head to kiss him softly. Tony made a soft, whimpery noise, hands coming up to clutch at the front of Steve’s shirt. He couldn’t resist deepening the kiss, letting his tongue tease against the seam of Tony’s lips for a minute before he pulled back again, just a little. 

“I thought… You were acting so weird. I thought you’d figured out I had a crush on you and, you know. Didn’t know how to turn me down.” 

Tony made a pained noise, and then started laughing, pressing his face into Steve’s chest. His entire body was shaking with it, and Steve couldn’t help grinning as he wrapped his hands around Tony’s back. 

“I was acting weird because I had a thing for you. I figured you couldn’t possibly be interested because otherwise, why wouldn’t you have made a move? I was laying it on way too strong. I’ve never been the best at processing stuff like that. I get a little… manic.”

Steve wanted to kick his own ass, but it was hard to be upset when he finally, finally had his arms full of Tony. “Really?” he teased instead. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Tony bit his pec in retaliation — it was right there, how was he supposed to resist? — sending a full-body shudder through Steve. There wasn’t much for him to do after that but pull Tony up into another kiss, and then another, until they were making out lazily right there in the hallway. 

They might have kept going forever, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a very pointed throat clearing. 

“Okay, seriously guys?” Bucky protested. “I’ve been killing time with Nat for the past half hour. Can’t you do that in one of your own classrooms? Or better yet, a goddamn bedroom? Preferably not in our shared apartment,” he added with a glare at Steve. 

Steve could feel his cheeks heating, but he didn’t really feel embarrassed, especially not with the smirk Tony was leveling at him. Steve shivered again, and his smirk grew wider. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said, tossing a look at Bucky over his shoulder. “We’re going. Don’t get your ponytail in a knot.” Then he caught Steve’s hand. “Can I uh… can I buy you dinner? I know a great Italian place. Not too fancy, cozy… intimate.”

Steve’s face hurt from smiling so hard. “Sounds like a date,” he said, getting a goofy little delighted giggle out of Tony. 

“You know,” Tony said as they headed for the parking lot, fingers entwined. “You don’t have to be jealous of Rhodey’s nicknames. I can give you a nickname.”

Steve snorted. “I’ve heard some of Rhodey’s nicknames. I think I’m okay.” 

Tony stuck his tongue out at him, softening it by standing on tiptoe to give him another quick kiss. “Oh, what about Cap? You know, like Captain America? In the old comic books? You kind of look like him, all big and blond and buff and like you could single-handedly take down a Nazi base and rescue the damsel in distress. The damsel in distress being me, obviously.” 

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and happier than he’d ever been. “Tony, that is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

@tonystarkbingo

[thelastspeecher]

Superhero/villain AU - Baby Daddy Drama

It’s been a while since I’ve posted a ficlet!  I’ve been busy, haven’t had time to write up ficlets.  But I have a bit of a break right now, and since I won’t be posting the next chapter of Recoil until tomorrow (I decided I needed to edit it more), here’s some stuff I wrote up today.  I’ve danced around Tate’s role in the Superhero/villain AU, mostly because I couldn’t figure out the circumstances behind how he comes to be.  But I finally figured it out, so behold!  Tate McGucket’s origin story.

(Btw, I forgot to mention, but like in most of my nonsense, Fidds is trans in this)

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              “They’re down,” Stan said, walking into the living room. Ford looked up from his book.

              “Good.  That took a bit longer than usual.”

              “Eh.”  Stan joined Ford on the couch.  “Thanks for letting us chill at your place for a while.”

              “No problem.  May I ask why, though?”

              “Fidds had a baby today,” Stan said casually. Ford’s eyes widened.  “Angie went to go see him and the baby, but we figured that we’d wait a couple days before the girls met their new cousin.  They can be hell on wheels, after all.”  Ford chuckled.

              “That’s an apt descriptor of them, yes.”  Stan’s cellphone dinged.  He dug it out of his pocket.  “Is that an update from Angie?”

              “Yep.”  Stan grinned at his phone.  “And a picture.  Aw, that’s a cute kid.  Not as cute as the girls, y’know, but still.  Pretty damn-”  His phone chimed again.  Stan’s face went slack.

              “Stan?” Ford asked, after a few moments passed in silence.

              “Shit,” Stan whispered.  He looked up at Ford.  “Ford…”

              “Yes?”

              “You- uh- nine months ago, you and Fidds didn’t-” Stan rubbed his face.  Ford felt dread begin to build in his gut.  “You guys didn’t knock boots or something, did you?”

              “Wh- my sexual history is none of your concern,” Ford blustered, trying to mask his growing unease.  Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

              “No, I think it is right now.  Fidds’ kid has twelve fingers.”  A heavy weight settled in Ford’s stomach.

              “Pardon?” he asked.  Stan silently handed him his phone.  Ford looked down at the messages Angie had sent.  The first was a picture of a newborn swaddled in a white blanket, with a large nose like Fiddleford’s and thick, dark brown hair.  Immediately after the picture was a text.

              “Tate here has twelve fingers…” Stan’s phone chimed and buzzed as another text arrived from Angie.  “Fidds won’t say who the other parent is, but I don’t need your mom’s power to figure it out.  You need to talk to Ford right away.”  Ford swallowed and returned Stan’s phone.

              “I didn’t even realize he was expecting.  He didn’t tell me.”

              “Why?  He told everyone else.”

              “I- when we-”  Ford looked away, feeling a flush beginning to creep onto his face.  “I was very…emotionally vulnerable that night. Maybe he was worried about how I’d react.”  Stan was silent.  “As for why he won’t tell anyone outright who helped to- to conceive-”

              “Seems pretty dumb, since it’s obvious,” Stan muttered.

              “I assume Lute is there?”

              “…Yeah.”

              “He probably wants to spare Lute’s feelings.” Ford looked at Stan again.  Stan rubbed his face.  “I mean…”

              “Okay, yeah, you and Lute used to date, which is…really awkward for all this, but Lute’s not an idiot, and Fidds knows that. Lute can figure it out.  Why the hell would he keep his mouth shut when it’s this obvious?”  A strange look crossed Stan’s face.  “…Ford.”

              “Yes?”

              “When did you and Lute break up?” Stan asked in a dangerous tone.

              “…Nine months ago.”

              “Son of a-”  Stan put his head in his hands.  “Please tell me that what I’m thinking is wrong.  Please tell me you didn’t rebound from my brother-in-law by sleeping with one of my other brothers-in-law.”

              “If I was good at lying, I would,” Ford said softly. Stan let out a loud groan. “Look-”

              “Okay, how soon after the breakup did you two sleep together?” Stan interrupted.  Ford was silent.  “Stanford.”

              “That night.”

              “That night?!”  Stan whipped his head up to stare at Ford.  “Holy fucking shit, really?  While Lute was crying over the breakup, sitting on my couch and eating my ice cream, you were banging his older brother?  Son of a bitch, Sixer, the McGuckets aren’t the only family with twiggy, big-nosed farm boys!”

              “I- Fiddleford was visiting, we were reminiscing about our college days, and-”  Ford looked down at his book, still open on his lap.  “Even though Lute and I parted on amicable terms, I was still emotionally vulnerable.  Fiddleford offered me comfort and one thing led to another and-”

              “You do realize he’s gonna kill you, right?” Stan asked flatly.  “The day you two broke up, you slept with his brother.  And you didn’t just sleep with his brother, you got his brother pregnant!”

              “I didn’t know about that last part!” Ford snapped, slamming his book shut.

              “That doesn’t make the rest of it hunky-dory!” Stan shot back.

              “You’re not exactly one to criticize me for who I sleep with!”

              “God fucking-”  Stan ran a hand through his hair, which was beginning to smoke.  “You are not gonna bring me and Angie into this!  We made a shitty decision, yeah, but it wasn’t half as shitty as yours!”

              “You were archnemeses!”

              “You slept with your ex-boyfriend’s older brother the day you broke up!” Stan thundered.  He shook his head.  “God, my three-year-old daughters can tell right from wrong, but I need to explain to you why what you did was bad?”

              “I just- I don’t hear any of this vitriol being sent Fiddleford’s direction,” Ford stammered.  He could feel himself running out of steam, guilt beginning to replace his rage.

              “Two things.  First, he’s not fucking here.  Second, he just had a baby.  I’ll wait for him to be out of the damn hospital before I yell at him.”

              “How considerate,” Ford muttered.  Stan’s eyes narrowed.

              “Don’t get cute with me.”  He jabbed a finger at Ford’s chest.  Ford winced.  Stan was worked up enough that his powers were emerging; the jab felt like it was from a red-hot fire poker.  “You’re the one that fucked up here.  You couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough for the dust to settle from your breakup.  You and Fidds.  Lute’s not gonna be happy about this.”

              “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Ford asked. Stan scowled.

              “Hell no.  But it doesn’t matter.  Underneath that blustery, overprotective twink exterior, Lute’s just as smart as Angie and Fidds.  He’ll be able to figure it out.  And he’s gonna be hurt.”  Ford felt his chest ache.  “He’s gonna be hurt that the ex-boyfriend he loved so much and parted on such good terms with slept with his brother.  And he’s gonna be hurt that his brother – the one he’s stood up for his whole life – would sleep with his ex-boyfriend.”  Ford slumped against the couch.  “He’s gonna use that anger of his to hide how much this whole thing hurts him.  He was so damned excited to have a new nephew to spoil, and now he knows how that nephew was made.”  Stan looked away.  “Lute and I might have started off rough, but we’re good now.  I’m not gonna be on your side this time.”  Stan stood up.  “I’m gonna take the girls and head home.”

              “But you just got them to nap.”

              “I don’t wanna be anywhere near you when Lute comes to your door demanding answers,” Stan said.  His voice was devoid of emotion.  “I sure don’t want my kids around.”  Stan’s phone chimed again.  Stan looked down at it.  His face hardened.  “Yep.”

              “What?” Ford asked weakly.  Stan shoved his phone in his pocket.

              “Lute figured it out.  He’s on his way.”

              “How bad-”

              “Count yourself lucky that he needs Angie’s help to make tornadoes.”  Stan began to head towards the room his daughters were napping in.  “You might wanna invest in some scuba gear, though.”

----- 

              The door opened to reveal Fiddleford, dressed in baggy clothes, a towel tossed over one shoulder.  Fiddleford rubbed the bags under his eyes.

              “I was expectin’ you at some point,” he said tiredly. Ford swallowed.

              “May- may I come in?”

              “By all means.”  Fiddleford stood to the side, allowing Ford to enter.  Ford had visited Fiddleford’s home a few times.  Each time, it had been somehow both cluttered and clean; every single one of the many pieces of machinery tucked away on some shelf or in a drawer somewhere.  Now, though, it was a mess.  Empty boxes for various baby-related items lined the hallway leading to the door.  In the far-off living room, Ford could see baby clothes and toys scattered on the floor.

              “How- how are you doing?” Ford asked softly as he stepped inside.  Fiddleford closed the door behind him with a shaky laugh.

              “I’ve got no clue how Stan ‘n Angie managed to deal with two at once.”  A shadow fell over Fiddleford’s face.  “Then again, no one in the fam’ly was just pretendin’ to be nice when they helped out with Danny ‘n Daisy.”

              “What do you mean?”

              “My folks are here,” Fiddleford said in a low voice. Ford’s mouth went dry.  “They wanted to stop by fer a couple days to help. And…well…once word spread about Tate’s parentage…”  Fiddleford trailed off.  “They’re goin’ easy on me right now, ‘cause I’m still a bit vulnerable.  But once I’m back to normal, I wouldn’t be surprised if my whole garden up and died, or if a freak windstorm dinged up the house.” Fiddleford sighed.  “Honestly, I wish they’d be upfront about their frustration. It’d be better than this fake cheerfulness.”

              “This seems rather…harsh,” Ford ventured cautiously. Fiddleford slumped against the wall, rubbing his face.

              “I wonder if their reactions would be dif’rent if we weren’t a fam’ly of villains.  The ‘no snitches, no traitors’ code runs deep.  And I’ve betrayed Lute.”  Fiddleford’s voice broke.  “My own brother.”

              “How is he?” Ford asked.  Fiddleford shook his head.

              “If I knew, I’d tell ya.  Within about five minutes of seein’ Tate up close, he stormed out.  Haven’t seen him since.  He’s- Lute ‘n Angie are awful sim’lar.  They struggle to keep their emotions under wraps, ‘specially in the heat of the moment. I get the feelin’ Lute knows he wouldn’t be able to control his powers if he spent time with me or Tate.  He might be fine if I got a bit scratched up, but he wouldn’t want Tate to get caught in the crossfire.”

              “It doesn’t help that Lute tends to use anger to mask his more vulnerable emotions.”

              “No.  It doesn’t.” Fiddleford bit his lip.  Finally, he let out a long sigh.  “Well, no point in delayin’ it.  Come meet the lil Tater Tot.”  Ford silently followed Fiddleford down the hall and into the living room. Mrs. McGucket sat in a rocking chair, holding a small bundle, while Mr. McGucket was tidying the room.  Mr. McGucket looked up at the sound of footsteps. His face twisted.

              “You!” he snarled, stomping over to Ford.  “Get out!”

              “Mr. McGucket, I just-”

              “Leave!  You broke my son’s heart and then broke it again!  Lute’s been devastated by this.”  Mr. McGucket shook his head.  “Can’t believe I was naïve enough to think that Stan would be the problem of the two of ya.”

              “Mr. McGucket-”

              “No arguin’, boyo.  Yer not welcome in this place.  Not after what you’ve done.”

              “Pa,” Fiddleford interjected.  “This is my home.  I let Stanford in.  He can stay until I kick him out.”  Mr. McGucket glared at Fiddleford.  The venom in his expression startled Ford.

              “If Lute hears-”

              “Mearl,” Mrs. McGucket said, still rocking back and forth in her chair.  “Stanford has a right to meet his son.”

              “Th-” Ford started.

              “Don’t thank me,” Mrs. McGucket said shortly. “Then I’d have to say you were welcome. And you aren’t.”  Ford’s body filled with ice at her vicious tone.  She got up from the chair and strode over. As she got closer, Ford could feel harsh, dry, hot wind biting where his skin was exposed.  Fiddleford looked at his mother, exasperated.

              “Ma.  Please cut that out.”

              “Hmph.”  Mrs. McGucket pursed her lips into a straight line, but the wind stopped.  “Hold out yer arms.”  Ford did as he was told.  Mrs. McGucket carefully deposited the bundle she was holding into his arms.  Ford felt his heart begin to race.  He carefully parted the infant’s bangs to reveal his eyes. Tate stared stoically at him, his eyes brown, rather than Fiddleford’s blue.

              “Hello, Tate,” Ford croaked.  Mr. and Mrs. McGucket exchanged a frustrated look before turning away and marching out of the room.  Ford swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.  “Fiddleford, I’m sorry that your parents are-”

              “We’re both to blame,” Fiddleford said.  He stroked Tate’s cheek with one finger.  “I refuse to let ya bear it all on yer own.” His voice was thick with emotion. Ford could only nod, unable to speak, the weight of everything that was happening finally crashing over him in full.

              “He’s very- he’s very handsome,” Ford managed, still staring at Tate.

              “I agree,” Fiddleford said softly.  Tate yawned widely.  Despite himself, Ford smiled.  He held out a finger.  Tate eagerly grabbed it with his hand.

              His six-fingered hand.  Ford had known Tate had twelve fingers like him, but actually seeing it in person was more than he could bear.  He let out a choked sob.

              “You all right?” Fiddleford asked.  Ford shook his head.  “What’s wrong?”

              “Well, my ex-boyfriend flooded my house, my sister-in-law refuses to let me in her house, my twin brother is following her lead, and the relationship I built with my sister-in-law’s family is crumbling.  And all of it is because of the conception and birth of my son.”  Ford closed his eyes.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

              “I hoped it wouldn’t be obvious whose he was,” Fiddleford said.  “I thought I might be able to get away with no one suspecting a thing.”

              “Polydactyly is dominant.  There was a 50% chance he’d be like me.”

              “And 50% chance he wouldn’t.”

              “I just- you were really going to keep me in the dark?” Ford asked softly.  “About my son?  You expected to raise him as a single parent, never telling me whose he was?”

              “I hadn’t planned that far ahead.  All’s I planned was keepin’ it a secret from Lute fer a while. Maybe until he’d found himself a new main squeeze.”

              “What if I had gotten back together with Lute? What then?”

              “I…”  Fiddleford looked away.  “Like I said. I didn’t plan nearly as far in advance as I should have.  I just wanted to keep Lute from gettin’ upset like he did.”

              “No matter how long you held off telling him, he would have been upset,” Ford pointed out.  Fiddleford sighed.

              “Yer right.”  He rubbed his forehead.  “All I can hope for now is that he cools off a bit.  Give the sit’ation some time, and maybe I can build up a relationship with him again.”  Tate began to fuss loudly.  “He’s prob’ly hungry.”

              “Oh.”  Ford handed Tate to Fiddleford.  “I- I should probably go.  I have some work to do at my mom’s place.”  Fiddleford cocked his head curiously.  “She was the only person willing to take me in while my house gets repaired.”

              “Ah.”

              “Even still, she’s pissed at me.  Stan told her what happened.”  Ford rubbed his forehead.  “It feels a bit like it’s just me against the world right now.  And rightfully so.”

              “I’ve been feelin’ the same way m’self,” Fiddleford said softly.  He took a hold of Ford’s hand and squeezed it.  “Don’t worry.  It might take a while, but things’ll blow over soon.”

              “Easy enough for you to say.  Aerokinesis runs in your family,” Ford said.  Fiddleford managed a small smile.  On impulse, Ford leaned over to kiss Tate’s forehead. “Goodbye, Tate.  I look forward to spending more time with you.”  Tate stopped fussing for a moment to stare at him in shock.  Fiddleford chuckled softly.

              “I think he’s lookin’ forward to it, too.”

[skookworks]

Gallery – Half Hour Sketches 31 to 60

From last year, the second set of thirty daily/half hour sketches. Do you have any favorites?

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Story Seed #45 A Bad Seed Blooms

Karren was always a difficult child. Demanding, clingy, prone to throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way. Dealing with her on a daily basis was enough to convince her parents that they didn’t want to have another child. Yes she was often charming. Yes she was usually very entertaining and she could seem very loving but, damn, she was awfully narcissistic.

When Karren was eight, her mother became pregnant (their contraception method failed) and her parents decided that they’d keep the baby. Karren would adapt, she’d have to. Right? And for a while it seemed like Karren would. She was delighted by the idea of having a sibling. She had fun playing nursemaid and helper to her mother and she revelled in the appreciation that her parents showed her for her new attitude.

The baby came, a little sister. Karren played doting big sister, giving cuddles, helping with bottles and rocking her to sleep. But, her parents had less attention for her and got crankier form lack of sleep, the old Karren resurfaced. She was jealous of the baby, angry that it just wouldn’t behave. Her play became meaner and rougher. One morning her mother caught her holding a pillow over the baby’s face. She wasn’t trying to kill the baby, she was just trying to make it stop crying, she didn’t know what she was doing, did she?

Her parents made arrangements to send Karren to a boarding school. Until she could depart her parents never left her alone with the baby and they locked her room at night.

Two days before Karren was to depart her mother took her and the baby to run errands. Karren had been behaving. She seemed contrite. Maybe safe? As they returned to the house their car was blocked in by a pair of black SUVs and armed men pulled them from the vehicle.

Karren’s parents were comfortably upper middle class. Karren’s grandfather, her father’s father, was rich and had made a lot of enemies getting that way. The kidnappers were in the employ of a Russian gangster that Grandfather had doublecrossed.

Karren, her mother and her little sister are taken to a remote location. Karen’s mother is forced to record a ransom plea. Karren pouts, Karren yells, Karren is not a cooperative hostage. The kidnappers beat her, tie her up, cut off one of her little fingers and send it with the ransom demand.

Karren’s father is in shock and desperate. Grandfather is disappointed. His son was always a weak thing. Grandfather harrumphs and takes charge. He has his security chief put together a team to rescue the kidnapped mother and her girls. But Grandfather didn’t get rich by giving a shit about anyone but himself. The team is to rescue the family if it’s convenient but it’s more important to him that they kill as many of the Russians as they can. The “girls” are expendable.

And Karren? Karren is very, very mad. Her parents could be boring. Her parents could be strict. Her parents often spoiled her fun. But they’d never hit her. They’d never hurt her. And now these smelly men have dared to hurt HER and threaten HER mother and HER little sister?

Karren is clever. Karren will get out of her bounds. Karren will make them all very, very sorry.

Recommendation

I am behind on my newsletters. I have a virtual stack of them waiting to be read and, at the moment, I can’t remember which ones I’ve already recommended. So this week I’m recommending a youtube channel: Cartoonist Kayfabe. Jim Rugg and Ed Piskor are veteran comics creators and they regular post a lot of videos about comics. I’ll let them introduce themselves –

Local News

I don’t have heroes. When I was a kid I kept discovering that the folks my history classes promoted as role models were often pretty horrible people. Even the ones the weren’t horrible were usually … human. That is, they weren’t necessarily nice, they weren’t always faithful and they often did things that were sloppy and stupid. As a kid, I was looking for perfect heroes to model myself after and real humans just kept failing provide me with the examples I wanted.

As I grew up I came to admire the people who stood up, who took action to make the world a better place, regardless of whether they were also shitty spouses, terrible parents or lousy friend. Rather, I’ve learned to admire the noble actions they took and accept that the rest of their lives and behaviors were probably pretty messy.

I’ve been following and reading Warren Ellis‘s work since I encountered his columns at 9th Art back in the 90s. I posted some art in the Remake/Remodel challenges in the FreakAngels forums. I found a lot of interesting newsletters (and was inspired to do this one) because he recommended them.  I don’t get many regular comics these days but I did pay attention to what he had coming out next. I mostly heard about that when I read his latest newsletter. I only heard about the controversy when he posted his last one. This essay gives the pertinent details with links to more info.

Of all the bad actors who have come in to light in the last few years, Ellis is the first one whose work really matters to me. After a few days passage I’m still … I don’t know. I believe the women. You don’t get 30 or more artists to agree on something unless there is truth there. And they’ve got the emails. (And being a whistleblower is never about money unless you’re already rich and famous. Being a poor whistleblower means you, at best, become a famous and poor whistleblower. Anyone who thinks that someone calls out injustice for fame and glory and wealth is someone who doesn’t actually care about injustice.)

I admire his work. I’m sorry he’s behaved poorly and kind of relieved that he didn’t behave worse. I sympathize more with the women who had to put up with his shit than with him for what’s happening now. What struck me, in his statement, was this –

“I have never considered myself famous or powerful, to the point where I’ve made a lot of bad jokes about it for twenty-odd years.”

  It’s a reminder to me that our perceptions of ourselves are often off the mark. You might think that someone in Ellis’ position, who has had the accomplishments and influence that he’s had, would have a better perception of his place in the world. But most of us don’t. Most of us hear our internal dialogues, our fears and our doubts, much louder than the feedback we get from the outside. We rarely perceive ourselves accurately. 

It’s a reminder that I/we have much more power in the world than I/we think I/we do. It’s a reminder to be more aware, to think before speaking and acting. It’s a reminder to talk more about perceptions and expectations even when doing that seems like it’s going to kill the flow of an interaction. I may think things are hunky dory but the person I’m with might just be being polite. 

I don’t think I’m currently in a position of power. In previous jobs I have been a supervisor and an assistant manager and a manager. As I moved up in responsibility I became conscious of having a responsibility to model “professional” behavior. Getting wasted and flirting with one’s coworkers isn’t a good look for the boss. Now I’m just one mail carrier in a station of about a hundred other carriers. I go to work. I don’t really socialize. I just want to put the hours in so I can get paid and go home and draw. Do I have power? Of course I do. I’m an older white guy who, to the new hires at least, probably seems like I’ve been around forever. Postal carriers have a union. Carriers advance by seniority. There’s a culture of not ratting on your fellow carrier when they misbehave. So I maybe could fuck with the new hires and get away with it. I’m pretty sure that veteran carriers already do that.

I have gotten tired. I have withdrawn. But I’m not dead. It’s time to pay a little more attention at work and in the world. I am not a hero. But I do have power and I can take a few noble actions now and then.

Tuesday Night Party Club #25 Gallery - Half Hour Sketches 31 to 60 From last year, the second set of thirty daily/half hour sketches.

[cuntinaclownsuit]

From the Bowie asks: 10, 13, 29, 30, 35, 40

10. Any personal stories that have to do with David Bowie?

Well when I first heard of the David Bowie Is Exhibition I desperately wanted to go to it, but since it was in NYC I didn't think I ever could.  Thankfully I was able to talk my parents into taking me and thankfully we have a friend who lives in Red Hook Brooklyn so we could stay with him instead of paying outrageous hotel bills.  So we were set to leave June 6th and then go to the museum on June 8th.  And I counted down the days for months.  But the day came and we took the train from station to station to get to there.  And on the 8th we went!  And we spent about three hours there and I absolutely loved it!  I saw so many costumes, hand written lyrics, and other random things like his Berlin apartment keys and his coke spoon.  It was so fucking cool and so fun.  Best day of my life.  Afterwards, at the gift shop I got a Bowie pencil, a Hunky Dory shirt, the exhibit guide book, and 1.Outside cd.  I wish I could go back and see it again.

13. Favorite Bowie film?

Labyrinth!

29. Tonight or Never Let Me Down?

Tonight 

30. Outside or Earthling?

1.Outside!

35. Favorite Bowie photograph? (pictures optional)

I don't have them on me right now (I'll find them later and reblog with them), but that one of Ziggy with eyebrows that's a close up of his face where he has his tongue out and looks like a lizard.  Also the one where its Tommy sitting in front of the tvs.

40. Have you created any Bowie fan art? (pictures optional)

Yes I have!  It's on Tumblr somewhere under the tag #my art

Thanks for the ask!

[literarytrashcollection]

Where Are Any of Us Going? (Part 6/?): You Idiot

(Bucky x Reader)

“Bucky, it’s me!” I yelled, trying to push his hands away.

“Yes, who are you really? HYDRA?” He snarled, pinning my arms above my head while his metal hand stayed pressed against my throat.

“No, Bucky, I swear!” I could feel the tears tracking down my face as he stared at me, as if willing the truth out of me with just the look.

“Buck, let her go.” Steve called, standing in the door of the elevator. When Bucky didn’t immediately release, he walked over, ready to pull him off me. Bucky dropped his hands and crossed his arms, jaw set hard. “Y/N, let’s go inside. Stark has information about what happened. It’ll answer all of your questions.” He offered his hand and I took it, thankful to be trusted in that moment. My heart hurt knowing Bucky didn’t trust me.

We marched down to Mr. Stark’s lab, Bucky trailing behind with his hands balled into fists. Steve held the door for me and brushed off a seat so I could sit down.

“I see you two made it out okay,” Tony looked wired. He’d abandoned the Iron Man suit and his suit and tie for a hoodie and jeans. “What a crazy first date, right?”

Bucky was still fuming at the back of the room, and I was honestly too afraid of him right there to say anything either, so I just flashed him a small, nervous smile.

“Alright, tough crowd,” Mr. Stark huffed. “JARVIS scanned all of the shooters, for identification purposes, but we also did body scans. They all had prosthetics, like Y/N. Not all of them had arms, but they all had bionic limbs. And they all had the chip in the back of their head.”

“I could hear whoever was commanding them in my head. I couldn’t quite focus when they were giving the orders, but once the radio went silent, I was able to get Bucky down before the firing started.”

Tony pointed at me with a pen. “You’re special. You’re the only one of them that had a fully metal skeleton. They all had regular ol’ bones. I think the reason they couldn’t control you was because of the sheer amount of metal in your body. It all messed with the frequency, weakened it to the point where you might have picked it up, but it was too faint to really work.”

“But they did still try to control her.” Bucky grunted.

“I don’t think they counted on me being there.” I turned back to him. “They told everyone to get into position and then fire. If they had known I was going to be there, wouldn’t they have given me a position to be in?”

“Unless you were exactly where they wanted you to be and you were sent to kill me, or any of us.” Bucky snapped.

“You guys saw the explosion in the garage, right?” Mr. Stark asked, eyes shifting between Bucky and I nervously. “The bomb was one of the shooters. I blasted his leg off and he exploded.”

“So, that’s the level of explosion we can expect if we try to remove Y/N’s arms.” Steve sighed, glancing over at me. I didn’t realize I was shaking until he rested his hand on the middle of my back and started rubbing.

“True, but, she’s obviously defective. And she’s in our hands. Wouldn’t they want any evidence of their work as far away from us as possible? They either want us to have her or they’re trying to blow her top and the signal isn’t taking.”

“What about the bodies? Wouldn’t they all be evidence too?” Steve continued.

“They would, if they were still there.” Tony nodded. “I went out to the garage to try and clear it for guests leaving and when I came back, all of the shooters were gone.”

Bucky swore under his breath, some of the anger leaving his face.

“Why could we shoot and kill them and they couldn’t even break skin with a bullet on me?” I asked, holding up the slug that had slammed into me.

“I think that might be because of the metal in your system. I think it’s bonded to your skin too.” Dr. Banner said, stepping out of one of the closets with a box full of parts.

“So a fucking magnet could totally incapacitate her?” Bucky stalked forward and leaned against the work bench. He was in reach and I wanted to touch him, help him relax, but I didn’t think he trusted me yet.

“Realistically, yes.” Mr. Stark nodded, a small smile on his lips. I knew he was imagining someone swinging a huge magnet around and me getting stuck to it. I was imagining it too.

Dr. Banner cleared his throat a little. “I’m going to try and put together something that will interfere with the radio signals she’s receiving so we can remove the explosives. Maybe if the signal can’t get to the receiver, it won’t blow.”

“Maybe?” Steve repeated.

Banner opened his mouth to say something, then quickly closed it and shrugged a little. “I can’t be 100% certain. We’re basically going to have to put her head in a metal box and cut the wires that attach the chip to the arms before we can remove anything.”

“For now, stay in the tower. Distance, plus all the metal in your body, we shouldn’t have to worry about you exploding any time soon.” Mr. Stark told me. “As soon as we know for sure that we can disarm these, that’s when we’ll go in and take you all apart.”

I nodded, getting out of my seat to leave. I suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, something I hadn’t really felt since my parents’ death. Steve tried to call after me, but I was already through the door and halfway down the hall.

No one stopped me on my way to my room. I slammed the door hard once inside and threw Nat’s gun on the bed. I quickly shed all of my clothes and changed into shorts and a t-shirt.

I drug myself right back out of my room and down to the training rooms. I found my heavy bags and started wailing on them, this time with no tears in my eyes to block my vision.

I was furious. I don’t think I had ever been so angry in my life, except maybe when my parents passed. Bucky didn’t trust me. I was made into a puppet to be used for murder. If anyone tried to fix me, there were enough explosives in my head to take out an entire cement garage level. In-fucking-credible.

I pounded the bag, over and over, sweat dripping down my face and my back.

I find out that I’m basically completely made of metal. Great! I can stick refrigerator magnets to my body and fry technology because signals can’t get through me.

“Y/N?” It was Steve. I knew he was trying to be nice to me, but I didn’t have the heart to talk to the Super Camp Counselor. I ignored him, throwing punches as hard as I could until the bag broke under my knuckles. As I was about to start hitting the next one, Steve grabbed my arms and literally lifted me off my feet, depositing me five feet away so I couldn’t hit anything other than him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

I stared up at him for a long minute. I honestly was thinking about punching Captain America across the face. “It’s not like life has been hunky dory since I got here.”

“It never is,” his face scrunched up a bit. “Let’s take a walk. You’ve got energy to burn and you need to talk this out. Luckily, I happen to be a decent listener and can probably walk the equator in one go if I really wanted to.”

I almost smiled. He was trying. I could appreciate that.

He led me out of the training room and out into the hall. “Sometimes, whether we like it or not, we’re called on by fate or destiny or the universe to go above and beyond, be more than we are. It’s a call that none of us can really get out of.”

“I didn’t want any of this.” I waved my hand over myself. “I didn’t want to be a freak. I didn’t want to run into Bucky and… develop all of these damn feelings for him.”

“You’re not a freak. You’re a girl that crazy things happened to. But you’re not a freak. You’re pretty normal, compared to most of us.” Steve smiled at me. “And Bucky… he’s scared right now. He’s terrified. You’re one of the first people--other than Nat and I--who he’s really opened up to. He feels weak around you. And he thought that you’d only been sent to kill him. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s that he doesn’t trust the world and he knows how vicious it can be.”

I watched my feet for a few steps as I processed that. “I tried to save him.”

“From what I saw, you also gave him a run for his money in marksmanship. You have to understand that that looks like a lie.”

“I didn’t know how I did it.” I looked over at him. “I’ve held and shot guns before, that’s not the problem. But I’ve never been good at it. My aim has always been atrocious.”

“It could be something to do with all of this,” he touched my arm lightly. “I don’t know what to say, really, Y/N. But Bucky cares about you a lot, and that’s what’s so scary to him. He just needs time to cool off and then he’ll come see you, tail tucked between his legs and he’ll tell you all of this.”

I nodded. “I think I’m falling for him.” I didn’t dare meet his eyes. I didn’t want to see what they held. It’d been what… four days that I had known Bucky? Wasn’t it a little early to start throwing words like that around?

“He is too, you know?” That made me look. Steve was looking forward, a small smile on his lips. “He’s also kind of into girls that scare him. Something about knowing that he’s not the most dangerous person in the room comforts him.” He grinned, meeting my gaze after a minute.

“Bucky’s a teddy bear.”

Steve’s smile grew. “I know he is. He wouldn’t hurt someone he knew didn’t deserve it.”

I wanted nothing more than to go to Bucky, to hug him and stroke his hair and his face and reassure him that I would never hurt him, to show him how much I cared about him. But he needed his space.

“Steve, will you come bake cookies with me?” I asked shyly.

“Probably the best idea you’ve had since you’ve been here,” he winked and took my hand, leading me to the kitchen.

“I smell chocolate chip,” Nat sang as she walked into the room, Bucky on her heels. Steve was scooping cookies off the sheet as I loaded more dough onto the next one. We’d decided on chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin, his favorites.

Nat snitched a couple of the cookies and sat on the counter. I could see her trying to inconspicuously gesture for Bucky to talk to me, but he remained silent, only opening his mouth to thank Steve for the cookies placed in front of him.

“Nat, I have a mission report I need to go over with you, if you wouldn’t mind,” Steve said, all but dragging Natasha out of the kitchen before anyone had a chance to say anything. God, he was the worst.

I kept my back to Bucky, dolloping more cookie dough onto a third sheet for the next round of baking.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Bucky’s voice was tight and monotonous. I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine, honestly.

“You didn’t.”

We fell silent again and I started washing up the dirty dishes from my baking adventure. Steve, the ratbastard, was supposed to do them, since I made the cookies.

Bucky’s fingers suddenly covered mine, removing the mixing bowl from my hands and wrapping me in a hug that felt more like a straight jacket. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

My breath shook as I took deep breaths. God, I was not going to cry. I didn’t need to have that conversation. I quickly shook him off and wiped at my eyes, turning to face him but not meeting his eyes. Instead, I focused on the hollow of his throat, the soft skin there.

“I’m not mad at you, Buck.” I mumbled, wiping my hands off on the bottom of my shirt. “I’m hurt. But I understand why you did what you did. So, there’s no hard feelings.”

“Can I hug you again?” His voice cracked a little and I knew that if I looked at him, I would definitely start crying, so I just pressed my face against his chest, holding him as tightly as I could. He wound his arms around me too, kissing the top of my head for a moment. “I was so fucking scared, Y/N. I thought you were going to get hurt. And then it crossed my mind that maybe you’d been in on it the whole time and my paranoia went through the roof.”

I nodded a little, digging my fingers into the soft material of his shirt. I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to think about it ever again. I wanted to push it down into a box in the corner of my mind and light it on fire.

“If you don’t… if you want… You don’t have to see me, if you don’t want to. I understand how much I must’ve hurt you.”

I pulled back and frowned at him. “Are you trying to break up with me?”

“No!” His eyes were tinged red, but I refused to believe that a man like him would ever cry over me. “No, I just was trying to give you an out if you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

I knew my face didn’t hide my skepticism. “You idiot.” I stretched up on my toes and kissed him lightly. “You have to do a lot worse than that to scare me off.” I murmured as I buried my face in his chest again. Relief seemed to radiate off him, all his muscles seemed to relax and he squeezed me so hard I thought I might pass out.

“So you’ll stay?”

“Of course, Buck. Where else would I go?”

He shrugged.

“Do you trust me?”

He pulled back that time, his warm flesh hand coming up to cup my cheek. “Of course, doll. Sometimes, I get these like… it’s like déjà vu almost. It just felt like it did when I was still in their control. It freaked me out. I needed proof and evidence but I knew that you were telling the truth.”

“Why didn’t you say that to me then?”

“In the moment, I was so worked up that I don’t think I could have said it.”

I pressed my lips together, taking the time to study his face. “Just please talk to me next time, Buck. I can’t know what’s going on in your head if you don’t talk to me.”

He nodded and kissed me again, gentle at first, then progressively more desperate and needy. I pulled him closer and leaned into the kiss, giving as much as I took. I squealed a little when he lifted me onto the counter so I could reach his mouth easier. I eased the pony tail out of his hair, ruffling the long strands out of the bun they’d been in so I could run my fingers through them.

I eventually pulled back for air but he kept at it, moving his lips down my throat then back up, just so he could do it again on the other side.

“Bucky,” I hissed when he tugged the collar of my shirt to the side, leaving a little love bite on my collarbone that made my pulse jump. I pushed him back, my heart shattering at the disappointment plain across his face. “I’m in the middle of baking, nerd,” I pecked his lips lightly and hopped off the counter, switching the last two sheets of cookies around.

“I didn’t get the chance to mention that I was really turned on when you took out those shooters.” Bucky mumbled quietly.

My face flushed and I looked down at my feet. “I was into it watching you do that too.” I thought back to it, biting my lip a little. I don’t think it was so much the shooting and the killing as it was the sheer confidence and power he possessed in that moment.

“What a fucked up pair we are.” He laughed.

I nodded and kissed him again, tracing my tongue over his bottom lip. He granted me access and before long, I was on the counter again, my legs wrapped around his hips and my fingers in his hair. His fingers caressed my legs, the difference between the warmth of his flesh hand and the cold from his metal one sending shivers up my spine.

He tasted like Heaven, honestly. I could still taste the chocolate chip cookies on his lips, and something else that turned my brain to mush as his fingers carefully trailed up my back, up to cradle my face. I let my fingers explore his chest, admiring the strength and tightly coiled muscle under his warm skin. I traced the scars, slipping my hands under his shirt for proximity’s sake.

When we pulled away that time, his teeth lightly biting into my lip before releasing it, we didn’t go far. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes still shut.

“It’s been a while since…” he stopped. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since before the war.”

“I’ve never had a boyfriend.” I shrugged,

He opened his eyes, frowning. “Why?”

“Never wanted one. Not that guys didn’t try to make passes. I was just never interested.”

He considered that. “Have you had a girlfriend before?”

I nodded. “One. I knew it wasn’t going to last though. It was fun while I had it.”

He nodded, tracing patterns over my bare legs with his fingertips. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, you idiot.” I kissed his lips lightly, then his nose and his cheeks, watching his smile grow with every kiss.

TAGS LIST: (let me know if you’d like to be added!) @veganfangirl5 @libbymouse @hiddles-rose @sonic-lipstick-is-mine

[dredshirtroberts]

The update you’ve all been waiting for

LOL nah I know better.

Anyway now that I’m finished with my marathon 14 hour anxiety attack over potentially losing my apartment i’ve worked so hard for. I figure I should probably like...say something about the things.

Deets under the cut:

So like. ‘s been a while, yeah?

I think last I posted about myself, I was pretty happily involved with a guy I’d been with for a while, things were good, I had two cats, a house and a future and everything was hunky dory.

And as some of you may have figured out, when my life is falling apart I become a hermit crab. You can’t find me. I stick to one outlet and my feelings stay inside. 

Mostly because my vent zone’s been found out and I don’t feel comfortable with talking about shit with the person I’m venting on yet. Happens every damn time.

Anyway. so.

God I don’t even remember the last update you all had. 

Maybe...Maybe I just start from the beginning. 

Now i just have to figure out what part’s the beginning. Okay. 

So as some of you know, or have gathered over the time you’ve been following me, I used to be in a really REALLY shitty and emotionally abusive/manipulative friendship. Things went down, I got out and I actually was really lucky to have been transitioned from one singular abusive friend to a very supportive and caring friend group - and I had a boyfriend and that helped too. That one was part of the new friend group, I was connected, I had a place to go so I wouldn’t go running back like the FIRST time things went poorly and I should have learned my lesson. Shit was good.

That guy decided I was (and I quote) “Like riding a roller coaster” and he didn’t want to be on it anymore. And no, not in the fun way. I guess I should have figured it was probably not a great idea to start a relationship with a guy who named himself after heavy artillery but what can I say? I have a thing for abused guys.

So anyway, 6 months after I’d cut off the one friend I’d had for 4 years, who I’d had during my transition from living at home to living out in the wild like a real adult, I was alone again. I’d moved an hour away from home, my roommate and who I’d been counting on to be my default friend to hang with in town didn’t have a lot of time (or more likely just didn’t like me much). I spent a month by myself playing World of Warcraft, and chatting with random dudes from a dating site. Had 2 dates in that whole period of time and one of them was what I thought was a keeper.

It started out great. While we weren’t living together I could count on regular sleep overs with him, we’d hang out every day. I mean we spent every. single. day. together since 2 days after our first date until...well until about a month ago.

I thought this was my Christmas I’d been dreaming for - a guy who wanted me, thought I was pretty, wanted to take care of me and who didn’t think I was a total weirdo. Told me I was smart and beautiful and sexy and all the things I’ve been wanting to hear for...well, a really fucking long time. 

That first year...if I could have had that again, even just the promise of it...

Well, after a year we started talking about moving in together. My lease was ending and he was intent on buying a house. So, he bought a house, I moved in, and it was just about perfect. And then about 2 weeks after he moved into the house and got settled, he got laid off from his job. He didn’t go back to work for a really long time. Admittedly he did have a nice cushion to fall back on and he was able to help on 1/2 the bills for a while. But then he didn’t have that much, and I was paying everything and I didn’t make as much as he had. And he was able to get another job, but then he lost that one, went back on unemployment, tried again. Got a new job. Lost it. Got a new job. Lost it. I’d say it was a good 2.5 years I was paying for everything, if not longer than that. And every time he had money coming in, it was his credit, his bills, his loans that got paid off first. And in that time, well, I made things work. I bought the groceries, I paid all the bills, and whatever he decided he would be able to afford I’d get from him whenever he would get it. I didn’t keep track of anything. It was our house, that’s what partners do.

The cycle just got worse as what little he had after each job got smaller, and my ability to hold everything together started fraying like construction paper on a first grader’s art project. My glue stick wasn’t enough to make a masterpiece. 

I maxed out my first credit card, the one I got because he insisted I needed to have one in order to get any kind of credit score so I could be approved for loans. I’d used it to help pay for the amount on the furniture the financing option wouldn’t cover. I used it to buy the washer and dryer. My grandparents had given me money to help buy the refrigerator for the house. I had to pay the bills out of my bank account most times. And when that card wasn’t usable anymore, I got another one. And in that time period I’d gotten a third because I needed repairs on my car and I couldn’t afford to do anything else. So here I was, going further and further into debt. I paid the bills in his name first, as on time as I could so his credit score wouldn’t be affected because that was the one thing he said over and over again - I had to make sure to pay his bills on time because that was *his* credit score I would be effecting.

No mind was paid to mine. Not until I was too deep in the hole. 

after I maxed out all three of my credit cards, I was unable to make payments on the first one anymore in order to keep up with the bills. I had a new job, that pays more than my first one but I was going through hell with my health. Because you know, why the fuck not. So I wasn’t at work all the time. and he didn’t have a job. And I was paying for a house I knew I couldn’t afford, but he insisted it could be done. So I did it. and when I couldn’t do it, and I knew he didn’t ahve money and his mother didn’t have money (because he wouldn’t not talk about how she didn’t have the ability to continue giving and giving), and I had already asked too much from my parents. God I had asked so much from them...I couldn’t think of anything else but to look online for credit options - could there be any kind of way I could get cash fast to make sure the bills were paid? 

I ended up taking out 2 payday loans. I don’t recommend it. When I still couldn’t make things happen on time, I got found out because I lied to him about the bills being paid. I thought i could do it in enough time I wouldn’t be found out. I thought I could fix it. And I was lectured that didn’t I know I could come to tell him I needed help with the bills? Didn’t I know we could ask his mom for help?

but I didn’t know I could do that. Because everything I’d heard from him was that he was only getting so much and it was just barely going to do this and do that and his mom was retired and she didn’t have a million dollars and she gives it away willy nilly to save everyone but she won’t take care of herself. And I saw that it didn’t matter to them - he bought models and games and video games all the time with whatever money he had left over. I didn’t ask for any money for groceries. He didn’t offer. His mom would take his family out for dinners, to vacations, everything. But I didn’t want to be one more burden on her.

In December I had opened up that there was no way I could make the house payments on time. everything was late, nothing was going to be able to be taken care of. And he was angry. I’d lied to him. I was afraid of looking incompetent and it ended up doing exactly that after all. because how could I not know how to manage money? Except...I do. I practically went to school and got an associates in how to make sure money stays in a bank account. FOR A BUSINESS. I know how to do this.

His anger he luckily didn’t take out on me right away. He went to his mother to discuss things with her but I was left by myself during that time, wondering if he’d follow through on his threats previously to kick me out if I lied to him again (I’m a habitual liar to make sure I stay safe. It’s a bad coping mechanism and I thought i’d gotten past it). When he came back he had a game plan and told me that if this ever happened again I could forget about living there anymore.

And I tried again to keep it under control. but...I can’t make that sort of thing work. It would have taken a fucking miracle. And my parents had outright told me they were no longer going to help support him. They’d offer me support and help me find my way out of the hole I’d dug myself into but they couldn’t give me anymore money if it just went to keeping him comfortable while he was unemployed. Again. 

I don’t blame them. I should have left in December when the red flags added sirens and flashing lights. I just wanted to make it work. I wanted to make him happy.

And I don’t care what nice things he said after I told him I was tired. I was done. I wanted out. He definitely would not have been happy with me. Ever.

I wasn’t ever good enough. It was the way he was raised, he said, that praise wasn’t something he ever gave out. It wasn’t given to him, so all he knew how to do was criticize. Sorry, suggest improvements.

I wasn’t praised either. But I know how to tell people I’m proud of the effort they’ve made. And I’m more than happy to give it. But I refuse to fawn all over someone who’s never helped around the house until they want something and then they do everything.

I’d bring up my issues with him - I did! I was really good about actually talking to him about really big shit for me. And he’d make a change. for like 2 weeks. And then something would happen and he wouldn’t be able to do the things anymore. So I’d take back over for while he was out, and he’d never take it back again. 

And he kept doing that over and over. Until I knew bringing up my issues was pointless because I’d end up having to take care of it anyway. Another reason why I didn’t go to him with the fact that i was unable to make my finances support two grown ass people in a mortgaged house.

So, about...eeehhhh a month and a half ago? ish? I’m not looking at my calendar or I’d give a better estimate. Sometime in mid april anyway. I started indicating that I was no longer happy. Because I wasn’t. I hadn’t been. Not for a really really long time. I was tired. Tired of constantly being told I wasn’t good enough when I cooked, cleaned, shopped, and worked to keep a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and supplies for the cats.

I stayed four months too long for the boys. I couldn’t...can’t...bear having let them go. They’re my babies. And you have no idea how much it broke my heart to know if I left I’d NEVER see them again. 

Still does tbh. Over and over again.

timeline. stick to the timeline. 

so I started planning my escape properly. I’d been thinking the word “escape” for a long time in relation to him. to us. If you’re ever in a relationship and instead of “ending” or “breaking up” your thought is “escape” get out. Get out right then and there because something is WRONG.

And then. after about 2 weeks of him trying very hard to keep me from wanting to leave, I gave up. The cats...while i love them so. much. aren’t worth me being put down, belittled, made to feel less-than, made to feel small and stupid and crazy, made to be afraid that one slip up and I am homeless. If I could have even considered being able to take care of them I’d have fought so hard. But I’m not able to feed me properly. I can’t have a cat right now. Let alone two. I couldn’t take them from having free range of a giant house with so many windows and doors and birds to watch and cats outside to play with through the back window...that would have been more cruel. They’ll forget about me eventually. They’ll be taken care of and loved. And that’s all I want for them.

And to those of you going “but...but what?”

The only thing I know for sure about this man’s capability to love anything on this planet is that he loves animals - cats above all others. He would do a lot to make sure they were cared for. It sucks that I wasn’t as important as the cats. He showed them way more affection than he ever showed me.

They’re safe and cared for. That’s...that will have to be enough.

So...to those who were here for the pictures of Mr. Thumbs with all his thumbs and his monster huge paws, I don’t have the ability to take new pictures of him. I have a good number on my phone I can’t bring myself to get rid of. My background is still the babies laying back to back happy and relaxed on the bed at my feet. My facebook picture is still me with my prettiest baby because I can’t change it. Not right now.

Sorry. this was a tangent. I need to get it off my chest more but I can’t do that right now. The screen is hard to see through tears.

So I broke up with him. Broke up with him and stayed in the house because I didn’t have anywhere else to go yet. I hadn’t been prepared completely. It seemed like fate that I was able to look at this place. 4/27 is when I came out with my parents to view it. Walked through, made sure it looked good, was a safe place for me to be. It’s in the part of the city I’ve always wanted to be in. It’s low rent, low cost for utilities (internet and electricity are all I have to pay outside of rent for this place). My apartment is right at the stairs so it was easy to move things in, I’m on the middle floor so my energy bills are going to be low just by the nature of insulation. there’s only about 6 stairs up to get to my apartment. It’s perfect.

And it was ready almost immediately. I wasn’t ready for how soon everythign was. My parents helped me pay the deposit on the place, I was able to work out a payment plan for the electricity deposit, I could wait on internet because I was grandfathered into the plan my dad has for cellphones with unlimited everything for the price he pays for it (which, honestly, fucking shit dad, how the hell did you get away with that one hm?).

...

I’d almost forgotten about the “contract”. That was clever of him, really. I signed over my rights to the furniture I’d *just* paid off, the washer, the dryer, the fridge my grandparents gifted us, the cats. He wrote up an itemized list. I was to look it over and make sure I approved of it - I didn’t, but my suggestions on negotiation were not ever amended to the document. This was in return for him not asking for half of the payment for the plumbing bill that had occurred when one of the ceramic pipes busted in the yard, backing up all our plumbing and making it so we couldn’t use the water in our house for 2 months. And because I was with him at the time, even though the bill was in his name, and the house was in his name, and I wouldn’t get anything from the plumbing being fixed in the house, he considered me responsible for half of that bill.

Probably more because it was 6k or something like that (I was under the impression it was 5k but it kept growing when we would talk about it so it’s a rough estimate).

So. I gave up all the things I’d bought, that were mine. I gave up the boys. And I could leave.

We signed it and had it notarized (lucky him, his aunt is a notary. hm). I had no one nearby on my side helping me fight for myself. But you know, I eventually decided 1) the stuff is just stuff and 2) it was less for me to worry about moving. This ended up being a blessing in disguise now that I think about it.

That friday was payday. I had been told to stand my ground and not give him any more money because, fuck, I’ve been paying for EVERYTHING. I don’t actually owe him shit. Didn’t. Whatever. And I caved. I told him I could get him a partial amount of the house payment (to be fair, he added that into the contract as well). Well, payday comes and I don’t actually have enough to do that AND get into the apartment the next monday which was the plan. And I was told not to give in, not to give him any more of my money because it’s not his. I didn’t owe him ANYTHING. Probably would have been thrown out in small claims court but whatever. So I didn’t go by the ATM on my way home from work. I thought I might be able to get away with it. And then he gets dressed and tells me to get myself together, we’re driving to my bank so I can get the money.

That...was the tipping point. I’d been in communication with my mom all evening and so i told her. I told her i’d failed in sticking to my guns. That he was taking me to the ATM so I didn’t have the option of not giving him the money at this point. He wasn’t going to do anything else that evening until I’d done it.

I managed...I managed to talk him down by a bit. So I could afford...you know, some of the stuff I had coming up. Because I wasn’t going to be able to survive honestly. I had...like...less than $10 in my account after what I took out. 

I was upset. I was mad at myself for breaking, for not standing up for me, for being here so long that the ATM trip was just another in a series of ATM trips any time I owed him money and hadn’t gotten it for him yet. It was normal. I’d normalized it.

And my parents...were extremely worried for me. The plan that whole weekend was to begin packing so I could move the next weekend into the apartment. So i took the laundry upstairs and I folded it and got it ready to put away. Mid folding, he comes up and wants to talk.

Mind you, despite having been broken up for a week, I was still sleeping in the bed with him, I was still supporting him in ways that I don’t even know if I was aware I was doing it. I’d given up so much ground just so he wouldn’t be upset. but I couldn’t love him anymore. Not...not like that. Not like I had.

So. He asks me what’s going on. Why I’m upset. And...3 years of frustration and anger and fear bubbled out of me like fucking ol’ faithful.  I was terrified. I recognised myself using prey techniques to make sure I wasn’t targeted. Be loud, be more loud than him, wave your arms - be bigger than you are, look dangerous. Try hard not to freeze and cow down and hide. 

It didn’t matter what I said or how I tried to show him how he had been abusive, how he had manipulated and hurt me. How he had neglected my feelings and my wellbeing for his own. He...was angry I’d ever say those things about him. He went to his mother’s house and in a panic I packed everything in the bedroom I could fit into my car and drove an hour to my parents at 10:30 at night. Got there during the worst rainstorm too. I was scared and I was sad and I was weirdly relieved and I hated it.

I got really drunk that night. Slept like a fuckin’ baby tho. Shit I even woke up early the next morning. My mom and I talked about everything and I told her I NEED to know when other people are seeing red flags because clearly I ignore them. So we came up with a warning system so I won’t get upset about it (because I will) when the person I’m around the most is a toxic person for me. It’s emojis. Because emojis are good. Emojis are happy. Except the angry ones.

My parents and I went to my Nana’s house - oh by the way she’s got cancer and is going thru chemo IN CASE ANYTHING ELSE NEEDED TO HAPPEN TO ME DURING THIS WHOLE SHITSHOW. Grabbed her pickup truck, and dropped off the things in my car to store for the time being. I’d packed a little overnight bag for the weekend. I could get more of my clothes after I was out.

We went to the house, we packed me up in about 4 hours into 2 sedans and a pickup all (okay, most. I realized later that I left some items, and I’d chosen to leave behind certain ones because it was messy to separate due to the owner of the other half of the items not being there and me just not wanting to deal with it) of my things were out. I was out. I gave him my key. I was on the way out the door and my dad...did something that dads do. Turns around - a foot from the door, mom and I were already outside on the porch - and goes off on him. Oh, i should mention his mother was there this whole time we’re packing. She was cleaning while he sat and...??? I honestly don’t know what he was doing and I frankly don’t care. Dad told me later it was to make sure that his mother knew what he’d been like, what he’d done. 

Shortly after getting on the road with my things he texted and told me after we got the phones sorted out he never wanted to see or hear from me ever again - he was going to pay off the phone bill and make sure we could get that done that day.

Around 7pm that evening I got a message from our friend who we joked was my sister-wife because we were all so close before she went into the army. I may have talked about her. She was already upset with me because I’d decided I didn’t want to work through the issues with him. I didn’t want to put in the time and I had also neglected to check up on her and she has cancer. She told me I was a toxic person and she didn’t need my kind of negativity in her life. I told her I was sorry she felt that way but I understood her decision.

She then responded and told me I wasn’t sorry, i was selfish and some other things - I...I blocked it out a bit and I deleted the thread with her from facebook because I couldn’t look at it. I already felt like shit. I continue to feel like shit. But...I deserve the chance to be happy too.

My nana allowed me to store my items at her house (she has A LOT of space omg huge house in the middle of the mountains, love it) until I could get into the apartment and actually have help with moving things in. I didn’t sign on the apartment until monday, (which is a whole ‘nother set of...anyway) so I was technically homeless Saturday and Sunday. My parents kept me Saturday but Sunday night I needed to be closer to work to make sure i got in so I couched with a friend from work who lives nearby (er...relatively. she was safer than the other option which was definitely closer but less...anyway).

Monday morning I arrived for the final walk thru with the maintenance people, I got my key, I had a friend help me move in the futon mattress I’m sleeping on, and that weekend I had a gaggle of lovely people come and help me get everything from the vehicles to the apartment - which was done in like an hour and a half. We had pizza, and then I was in my apartment. I was free.

Stipulations on being in the apartment of course. That was a ...thing. Friday I’d already been very flustered about money - not just because he was expecting half the house payment (or as near as I could muster) but because the perfect apartment was slipping through my fingers. I didn’t know if I’d have enough money for the deposit and then my parents helped me with that (which was AMAZING). And then they told me I needed the rent up front for me to move in. The rent I didn’t have because I didn’t know it would be needed up front. I should have known but I’ve never lived in an apartment owned by a company before so I had no idea. I was scared that because I didn’t have the money to be able to do the rent AND the electric by monday, AND he was forcing me to give him the money, I wouldn’t be able to live in the apartment that seemed so perfect.

I was able to work out a deal with the company - As long as the electric was in my name by monday, and I had the account number, I could get in without ahving the rent there as well AS LONG AS I had it by my next paycheck. Then the next months rent would HAVE to be on time. Perfect! I said, I can do that. I was on top of the world. I could do ANYTHING.

Which was going to be fine, except. then the past three weeks happened. Depression hit hard and it hit fast. I knew it was coming - of course it was coming - I’ve lived with it my whole life. And now it had something to feed off of.

I don’t get to sleep well, and when I’m asleep I’m ASLEEP. Slept almost 14 hours last saturday night into Sunday morning. Waking up is as hard as getting to sleep and I don’t have the motivation to get from my room to the kitchen. I spent the first week playing video games thinking “oh I just need time to get accustomed to my new space, that’s all this is”. I unpacked some. I decorated some. I got groceries. I made food. 

I stopped playing video games. I stopped watching my tv shows. I’ve pretty much just been in bed for 3 days now. I didn’t even eat anything yesterday and today was...not great dietary wise.

And I don’t have money. My parents are able to help me this month with rent but I HAVE to get back to work. I’ve GOT to get out and be outside. at least outside.

I have to do these things because I don’t have other options anymore.

Anyway. that’s the story as far as I can go right now. I’ve probably left shit out. I’m tired though. The cats...talking about the boys took a lot out of me. I’m really fucking upset about them. But...one day it won’t hurt nearly as much and maybe one day I can acquire a pirate kitty. or maybe another kitty who needs love. an older one because they need the snuggles.

Idk i can’t think about that right now. I have to be able to feed myself properly before I acquire any other living creature to take care of. I’ve proven I can’t keep up with the responsibility, or I wouldn’t be in this situation.

[wolvesdevour]

As a gay guy, I’m not mad about things like Shiro/Adam in Voltron.  It’s not queerbaiting. That, to me, are things like Finn/Poe, where there’s enough to encourage the idea that they’re dating and the sense from production that there would be a big romance, which would lead folks to assume that they would be together... I work with other gay men, one of which is super into Star Wars, and there was a massive disappointment, a feeling that they were being led on. The onscreen romance also seemed extremely awkward--in these talks about Finn/Poe, there was no Rose hate, but there was dislike for how that romance seemed so strange and awkward. There’s the feeling that they were played. For Voltron, we have a gay character and, yes, they are, albeit, briefly together. That’s not baiting; we still literally have a gay main cast character. There’s no bait. It literally exists & is real. They had a real relationship. Real love. This happened. And the idea that Adam isn’t allowed to die/they aren’t allowed to breakup is pretty stupid to me. Shiro is a very “adult” character. He’s older than the rest of the team (barring I guess, Allura, but I’m not sure what you’d consider her mental age), and he has a chronic illness. By all laws, he should not have been allowed on a mission. It’s cartoon/Hollywood logic that he would still be allowed, maybe be okay on a mission, but both his superiors and fellow soldier... Do not think it is safe. Shiro puts both himself and his team at jeopardy. Which is why Adam has an extremely good reason for leaving him: it’s literally insane for Shiro to continue his missions. He is putting people’s lives at risk as a result.  Sometimes relationships fail, and people in the military die. Literally both Shiro and Adam have died. They show a wall of plaques of people who died. Because it’s dangerous. This is also why Shiro is the “adult” character. Pidge & Hunk, who are younger are allowed to have “everything is magically okay” for them, because they’re the characters who produce a sense of hope or happiness. They’re the “kid” characters. The ones where... Things may be tough, but you can still come out in the end. Even Lance is a character where, magically, essentially, everything is generally okay. These three--Pidge, Hunk, Lance--go through trials, but still work through, and things generally are fine. SOMEHOW, their families are safe and alive. Which defies all logic. An “adult” telling would likely include more deaths or mental or physical trauma. Keith & Shiro, especially, are the “adult” characters, the stories where things aren’t just going to be a-okay, hunky-dory happy. Shit happens. But they show us, the audience, how to work through those problems. (I’m not sure where to place Allura, but I would lean towards “adult” storytelling, because her people are dead, her parents are dead, etc.)  And the end-all, be-all of a gay character isn’t who they’re dating. Shiro never stops or was “never” gay, He is gay, period. From season 1 to current, he’s gay! He doesn’t need to still be dating a man to be gay. He had a realistic, honest relationship. Breakups happen. Death happens. I appreciate him as a character, because I was about his age when my fiance died. We half-assed broke up right before, because my fiance was, well, being dangerous--he stopped considering his health & needs and I needed to step away, like Adam did. And then he died, in a stupid, senseless sort of way. If he didn’t die, if he got shit together, who knows? And I loved how Shiro/Adam were depicted, because.. That fucking happens, except their situation is even better, sinсe in their version of Earth, it’s okay to be open and gay in the military. That’s not something a lot of people can have right now. Voltron gives us a beautiful ideal: they’re socially safe--both high ranking, openly gay, openly together... It’s just that life still happens. You can still have a failed relationship; you can still die.

[monkeymindscream]

I now want to imagine what it'd be like if the Dark Ones had somehow corrupted Gyrus Krinkle instead of the Alchemist as their Skeleton King... But I can't fathom how disturbing things would be. Though a SK fanboying the Hyper force would be the most terrifying thing ever. Probably ask them where they'd like their bodies to be mounted if he can't brainwash them into his minions (not thinking too hard about the timeline mess. It's all too scary).

I shit you not, from the moment I first got this ask(however long ago that was – my bad,sincerest apologies) this concept’s been stewing in my mind. I already have a ludicrously self-indulgent AUgoing I don’t need this.

ugh here we go again I guess Okay let’s set the scenehere, because for DO!Krinkle to happen, then our canon SK can’t. So let’s say that Captain Shuggazoom, instead of hurryingoff to save the city, stayed with the Alchemist as he went to shut down theNetherworld gate. He had a really skeevy feeling about the whole thing,whatever Al said about the grid being “impenetrable,” so even though his alarmstarted to go off he hung around a few more seconds just to make sure. Thusly,when Mandarin tried to jump up onto the grid, Cap was able to make a smooth-asssave and be like “c’mon little buddy listen to your dad he’s shutting it offnow” and held him back until everything was safely turned off.

(Mandarin sulked for the rest of the day, because being toldwhat to do by anyone other than his dad makes him insufferably cranky.Thankfully for dinner that night they had a noodle dish that happened to be hisfavorite, so his mood perked up considerably. And that’s the anti-climactic endto what would have been a horrible, life-altering evening otherwise.)

Years pass, and things progress pretty much how they did incanon in terms of the monkeys’ training, with a few key differences: Obviously,there was no need to wipe their memories, so even though the monkeys split upto learn their respective trades (Mandarin + Antauri and the Verans, Nova andOffay, etc.) they all still remember each other and would write and videochatand meet back up at their Dad’s for special occasions and stuff. (Also itshould be noted that they became robot monkeys and go off to train at a MUCHmore relaxed pace than in canon. Without demons breathing down their necksthey’re all allowed to move at a healthier pace towards things.) When they allget back to Shuggazoom, they work to help Captain Shuggazoom defend the cityfrom his assorted rogues gallery. TechnicallyCap’s in charge of the whole outfit, but Mandarin secured himself as leader ofthe Monkey Team “conditionally” (hepestered Cap and Al until they caved).

And then along comes Krinkle.

While he’s just as obsessed with the monkeys as he’s everbeen, the difference here is that he ends up coming into the monkey’s lives alittle earlier than he does in canon (Timeline? I FEAR NO TIMELINE). Since themonkeys are – at least – fifty years old by the time of the show, and I’d placeKrinkle anywhere from mid- to late-forties, let’s say he’d start stalking them here during his teens. ThinkSyndrome-from-Incredibles originstory: after pestering Cap to let him be his partner for an unspecified amountof time (and being repeatedly rebuffed; “Kid where the heck are your parents??”),he becomes bitter and disillusioned and decides to take matters into his ownhands. Krinkle’s selling point was that he could be the scientific/mechanicalgenius to Cap’s rough-and-tumble fighting style; he either hadn’t gatheredenough info on the monkeys themselves yet to know that the Team already has oneof each of those, or when Cap pointed this out he was like “yeah I know they couldhelp me it’ll be so cool!!” Cap eventually tries to shut the matter down forgood by saying he already has apartner that fills that role for him, and he’s worked with Al for years so hereally didn’t see a point in changing things now.

Baaaad move there.

So now Krinkle’s all indignant, because whatever this“Alchemist” guy can do, he’s positive he can do better. He manages to find outwhere Al lives (which is still out in the middle of nowhere, bless his oldhermit-y heart), and heads down there with the intent of having a gadget build-offor something to prove he’s the better mechanic. He gets there, breaks in, andstarts plodding around the place trying to find the Alchemist so he can makehis dramatic challenge. He gets distracted when he gets to the lab, because nowthat he’s found his competition’s invention stash he wants to have a look toget a feel for what he’s up against (he grudgingly admits that yeah, fine,these inventions are okay, but hecould still do better if only given thechance). There’s one thing whose function he can’t work out, though. It’s abig, ugly looking machine with a big, circular fixture on it. Kind of lookslike it might be a portal, actually… wonder where it leads to?

Y’ALL KNOW WHERE THIS IS HEADED.

The Hyperforce (who’re still located in the city, as percanon) get a really rude awakening in the middle of the night and have to goout to take care of the demons who’ve managed to escape. Since Cap has themonkeys and the Robot helping him out this time, they manage to wrap it up inwithout too much issue. But when they’re done they all panic a little becausethey only know of one place where demons could come from, and they’re scaredsomething happened to the Alchemist. Obviously, they rush over to his house tocheck on their friend/dad.

Back at the ranch, Al heard Krinkle screaming and ran tohelp (he had no idea who this kid was or whyhe was in his lab, but y’know what those are questions for later).Unfortunately, he’d come onto the scene justas demons were starting to crawl out. He really only caught a glimpse of whatwas happening to Krinkle before he was accosted by unholy netherbeings. He’sstill not corrupted, but by the time the Team get to his house to help he’sbeen plenty disfigured. His face doesn’t really even look like a face anymore, justa skull…

(Confession time: this bit is mostly just because I reallylike SK’s first design. Your skull has no reason to be that weird shape ya bigdoofus. Ya absolute dope. Ya feckin weirdo. God I love ya.)

At some point before Cap and the Team got there, Krinkle hadrun off. After assuring his worried family that he’s okay (all thingsconsidered, anyway), Al feels fucking AWFUL. Some poor child will have tosuffer a fate worse than deathbecause of his machine. Everyone tries to convince him it’s not his fault withlittle success. Sprx, though well-meaning, says something to the effect of“Better him than you, Pop,” which inadvertently makes Al feel worse. Mandarin is unapologetically ofthe mind that the little weasel deserved what he got, and it served him rightfor breaking into the lab in the first place. Not surprisingly, this viewdoesn’t exactly help either.

They don’t see or hear from Krinkle after that. They assumethe corruption was too much for him and he died sometime after running fartherinto the Zone of Wasted Years. Al is continually guilt-ridden.

Not too long after, unfortunately, whatever weird thing thatkonked the monkeys out in canon so Chiro could find them and wake them up stillexists here, so they have to go to sleep and Al and Cap are left alone for abit (I… STILL DO NOT FEAR THETIMELINE, BUT THIS MAKES IT A LITTLE BLURRIER).

Things progress kindanormally from this point, i.e. Chiro wakes the monkeys up, gets Power Primatepowers, and is on the Team. Only differences are that Mandarin’s still on theTeam (and still leader, both because Cap’s kinda old now so “conditionally”turned into “officially,” and I’m sorry but destiny or not if you think foreven a second that Mandarin would let some random human kid lead the Team overhim then you clearly don’t know this simian), and Cap and Al are around.Everything’s hunky-dory for maybe a month as everyone settles in to the newsituation, and then you get exactly one guess what happens next.

Some ways that having Krinkle take SK’s place in canon wouldchange things: Firstly, though he’s still obsessed with the Monkey Team andgunning to lead them, it’s ONLY the monkeys he wants now. Now that he’s gotSpecial Dark One Insights on things, he views Captain Shuggazoom as essentiallya pawn in the grand scheme of things (he don’tgot no special destiny) instead of worshipping him along with the monkeys likehe used to. Moreover, while he doesfixate particularly on Chiro like he does in canon, here it’s because he loathes Chiro. Not only because he’skinda against anything with a “Chosen One” label on it now (as per request ofthe Dark Ones), but he’s also supremely, viciouslyjealous of him. Oh, so he just wasn’t goodenough for the Team, is that it?? He was older than Chiro when he asked to be on the Team, and a mechanical genius! What’s this brat got that he didn’t?!

Next, Krinkle wouldn’t use formless as minions. I’ve alwayskind of headcanoned that the reason SK had the powers that he did was actuallymore because he’d been an Alchemist before rather than it solely being a resultof the Dark One’s corruption. They gave his powers an extraordinary boost, nomistake, but it was only because he’d known how to do magic prior that he wasable to do it as SK. Now Krinkle doesn’tknow a singular thing about magic, so while he has some dark powers now (mostly that he doesn’t need to eat or sleepand has the ability to corrupt other things to some extent), he’s nowhere nearas powerful as SK. So yeah none of that creating goopy-legions with the flickof a wrist for him. He’d fashion himself some mechanical mooks instead (formlessstill would exist in this AU, but I can get into that another time).

Can’t decide if the Skeletal Circle – or whatever theKrinkly-version of this would be – would exist here. On the one hand, I’m sureKrinkle would love to have a group ofpeople dedicated to kowtowing to him (if Krinklezoom’s any indicator, anyway,which I personally think it is). On the other hand… well, we just establishedthat Krinkle wouldn’t be as powerful as SK, so would he really be able toinspire enough awe or terror to justify a cult?

Anyway, if Krinklehas a cult to mirror SK’s, and if Valinahappens to be a thing in this AU, her relationship with Krinkle would be verydifferent than her relationship with SK. Again, Krinkle doesn’t have SK’spower, and one of the things Valina seemed most enamored with about SK was his power. Not to mention the factthat his main goal (possibly even more so than releasing the Dark Ones) seemsto be making himself leader of his enemies.She might have started out in his cult because her parents dragged her there,but I’m decently positive that all she’d see when she looked at him would be apathetic, whiny little man unworthy of the powers he was bestowed. So I can seeher either going “fuck this bullshit I’m out”and splitting to become a threat independent from him, or hanging around andstringing him along until she became his Dragon, and then stabbing him in theback once she’d decided he wasn’t useful to her anymore. So still technicallybecoming a threat independent from him, but just manipulating him and leechinghis power while she did it.

I’ve probably talked about this too much now, but I don’teven care. I love this. Hit me up for more on this any time.

[ko-neko-san]

So my mom and I got into a fight yesterday bc my sister (19) has been shutting out fam and actively ignoring/doing the opposite of what we've recommended (regardless of how nicely/not a deman anyone immediate fam has put it), and accused my brother of some fucked up shit when it became clear we weren't taking her side in the last argument we had a few months ago, and recently she's been acting like nothing ever happened and everything's hunky dory, and I said if she's gonna use the "I'm an adult" bs then she has to nut up and apologize for being a dick and mom argued that "she's trying, we have to positively reinforce the steps she makes" and I said ignoring what she did/said isn't steps forward it's just sweeping it under the rug and why would you not want an apology since you're the one she hurt most, and all this came up bc kate said she wanted to go to the kpop store not next week but the week after so she'd have money to buy shit and I said I wasn't thrilled to hang out with Not My Dad (according to her he's the root of all evil idk) and now she's going today too??? Um. I signed up for one(1) outing with the walking wet blanket, and both of you are well aware of my thoughts on both her and her attitude toward my family, and y'all are just gonna spring that on me without any kinda warning? No "hey she decided to go today too just fyi" "hey is it cool if we all do both days"?? Bro what the fuck. Now, not only do I get to pretend with mom bc god forbid I have Feelings about anything (srsly she told me I wasn't allowed to be around her when we found out great granny died bc I make it harder for her, like she's the only one allowed to feel shit) and god knows she won't bring up the argument, but I also get to pretend I don't actually genuinely resent my sister for what she's put my parents and brother through for four years now?? I fucking hate it here.

[cromulentbookreview]

Binge!

It makes sense why we use a term normally associated with food like “binge” to describe that day where you do nothing but watch every episode of that one TV show. You don’t really hear someone say that they’re going on a book binge, though. When referring to a media “binge,” it’s usually always TV, and, to some extent, movies (I once binged all three Extended Editions of Lord of the Rings - it took a day and a half and it was amazing). I think we need to have more book binges in our lives. In fact, there’s even a book review site way more organized and put together than mine will ever be that’s actually called Book Binge. 

Anyway, for me a book binge is when you pick out a series that already has several books out and you read them all, one after the other. I did this earlier this year with Naomi Novik’s amazing Temeraire series. I’m pretty sure it’s why I had to get new lenses for my glasses this year. I’ve been on a historical mystery kick lately - I think it has to do with the season changing from Summer to Fall where I immediately go “get me some 19th Century British Detectives!!” 

Which was how I ended up tearing through all 10 of Will Thomas’s Barker & Llewelyn books.

I’d never heard of the Barker & Llewelyn series until I was traipsing around Goodreads looking for some 19th century mystery fiction. Like my strange obsession with 19th century British dudes on boats, I loves me some 19th century British mystery stories. Initially, I didn’t start out to binge the entire series. 10 books is a lot. I had a hard time with Temeraire, which is also kind of 10 books (9 and a bunch of short stories). There were times with my Temeraire binge where my attention wavered, where I wanted to just put the books down and go read something else, but I pressed on. And I discovered one of the great joys of a true book binge: no agonizing wait for a sequel. No having your interest piqued by book one and then sitting and waiting for a year and a half for the next book. With a book binge, you can put down book two and immediately pick up book three because BOOK BINGE. 

There are a few 19th century British mystery series out there that I’m almost too afraid to start with because they consist of roughly ten thousand books and counting (looking at you, Anne Perry) and there’s no way I’d be able to focus on (or care about) a single series for that many books. So when I saw that the Barker & Llewelyn series consisted of nine books, like Temeraire, (plus a tenth book I’d gotten on Netgalley), and that all of them were under 350 pages, I was like “OK, I’ll give the first book a go, and see what happens.”

Yeah, I may have immediately gone from the first book to the second one. And then the third. And then the fourth and the fifth...I couldn’t stop.

The series is all about our audience surrogate, Thomas Llewelyn, and our substitute Sherlock Holmes, detective private enquiry agent Cyrus Barker. At the start of the series, Llewelyn is 22 and a widow who just spent eight months in Oxford Prison for theft. He’d been set to go places, having gotten a scholarship to Oxford, but the whole prison-sentence thing derailed all his plans. So he ends up in London (where else?) looking for work. After months of failed attempts to get a job (not a lot of job opportunities for ex-cons out there, even in the 1880s), Llewelyn decides to try for one last job before throwing himself into the Thames: an assistant position with a prominent private detective enquiry agent, Cyrus Barker. Barker, like all Great Detective Private Enquiry Agent types, is a Scottish eccentric with a mysterious past who knows everything about anything and anything under the sun. He’s got all sorts of weird scars and gang tattoos. He grew up in China and speaks like, eleventy-one languages. He wears sunglasses all the time. Like, all the time. Apparently he does so even when he sleeps. (Yes, they had sunglasses in the 19th century. No, they’re not called sunglasses in these books, but they’re referred to as his “dark spectacles”). Barker is, of course, filthy rich, and upon hiring the poor, unfortunate and 1000% broke Thomas Llewelyn, immediately provides him with room, board, and a whole new suit of fancy clothes. He also sets about correcting Llewelyn’s behavior and manners, a pretty tall order since Llewelyn is a super snarky Welshman. As far as Watsons go, Llewelyn is definitely one of the more amusing, which makes these books so goddamned fun to read. 

Also, Barker has a butler called Jacob Maccabee, who rivals Llewelyn in his deadpan snarkiness. I ship Llewelyn/Mac so hard - every time they’re in a scene together they just have so much chemistry. I don’t care if Word of God is they are both straight. I just want them to be together and snark at each other all day long..

Uh.

Ahem.

Anyway.

Yes, this series is very much your standard, buddy-detective private enquiry duo present in basically all movies, TV and books, but they’re fun. And you know what we all need right now? Fun. Pure, unadulterated fun where the good guys triumph over the bad guys, where the mystery is solved and you’ve got your Sherlock Holmes and your Dr. Watson. Because have you seen the news lately? Yeah, I need some stories where pure good triumphs over evil, where people freak out at the concept of rubber tires and the telephone, and where the story of the day isn’t doom and gloom and horror. Just, you know, murder. But fun, because it’s not real. And because it was the 19th century. In Britain. And not real. Well, except Jack the Ripper, those were real but...you know.

Here’s a summary of the first nine books in the sereies:

BOOK 1 - Some Danger Involved: Your average detective enquiry agent-duo origin story featuring brilliant detective and his new snarky Welsh sidekick!

BOOK 2 - To Kingdom Come: Barker & Llewelyn go undercover and build bombs for the Irish!

BOOK 3 - The Limehouse Text: Barker & Llewelyn face big trouble in London’s 19th Century Chinatown!

BOOK 4 - The Hellfire Conspiracy: Barker & Llewelyn fight human traffickers, secret societies and such!

BOOK 5 - The Black Hand: Barker & Llewelyn fight the Italian mafia!

BOOK 6 - Fatal Enquiry: Barker & Llewelyn fight Barker’s almost comically evil arch-nemesis!

BOOK 7 - Anatomy of Evil: Barker & Llewelyn fight Jack the Ripper!

BOOK 8 - Hell Bay: Barker & Llewelyn Present: Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None!

BOOK 8.5 - An Awkward Way to Die: Barker & Llewelyn solve a case in, like, 20 minutes!

BOOK 9 - Old Scores: Barker & Llewelyn Present: Japonism in Late-19th Century England!

BOOK 10 - Blood is Blood: Barker is put temporarily out of commission by an explosion! Llewelyn must solve the case himself! Who should show up to help but Barker’s long lost brother??

A little more about Blood is Blood: 

So Thomas Llewelyn is only a couple of weeks away from happily marrying his lady love, Rebecca Cowan née Moccatta. Everything is hunky-dory. And then someone tries to blow up his and Barker’s office. Barker is badly injured, leaving Thomas to investigate who tried to kill them by himself. Oh, and, same day the offices are blown up, Caleb Barker, Cyrus Barker’s long lost brother, first mentioned way back in Limehouse Text, I think, shows up. Caleb had been a major plot point in Fatal Enquiry, but then was never mentioned again until this book. He’s been living in the lawless American West, acting as a Pinkerton agent. But can he be trusted? Also, Rebecca’s family is super against her marrying a detective private enquiry agent who isn’t Jewish. Upon seeing just how dangerous the job can be, Rebecca starts having doubts. Will Thomas be unlucky in love yet again? Tune in November 13 for Blood is Blood, same bat-time, same bat channel. 

Yes, this series can, at times, be formulaic and tropey, but...fuck it, I love it. Sometimes there’s comfort to be had in a story where you know the good guys will solve the mystery, maybe picking up a few scrapes along the way. I tore through all of the books of the Barker & Llewelyn series in about two weeks, and finished Blood is Blood in about a day. I should’ve gone slower, because I need more. I need at least five more books, Will Thomas, and I needed them YESTERDAY. Aaaackgh. This is what I get for binging. How long until book 11? Will we be getting another novella soon? And when are we going to meet Thomas's family?! 10 books and we've never met his parents or any of his nine siblings! I want a whole book dedicated to Thomas reconciling with his family and he and Barker and Mac running all around Wales. I NEED IT. 

Write faster, Will Thomas. 

Predictably, after a book binge such as this, my eyes now hurt pretty badly. Time to invest in those fancy eye drops my optometrist keeps telling me to buy.

RECOMMENDED FOR: Anyone needing an escape from the awful world we live in now.

NOT RECOMMENDED FOR: People who think everything’s fine for some reason. You know. This guy:

OVERALL SERIES RATING: 4.5/5

TOTALLY UNBIASED VICTORIAN MYSTERY / MURDERINO FANGIRL RATING: 5/5

BLOOD IS BLOOD RATING: 4/5

RELEASE DATE: November 13, 2018

ANTICIPATION LEVEL FOR NEXT BOOK IN THE SERIES: Olympus Mons

[mozillavulpix]

the story of fate/stay night, without any of the extraneous shit, sloppily recapped by me, a person who read the VN a few weeks ago

part 1: fate route

actually, first we should mention the prologue. The prologue is the best part of the story, because it’s from the POV of Rin Tohsaka, Best Character who deserves to be in a franchise that treats women slightly better, tbh. It technically starts chronologically earlier than the main story by a few days, but either way it’s about 2 days straight of introductions both from Rin and then from Shirou’s perspective. It’s one hellllla slow burn.

But anyway, let’s get to the actual action after those days of everyone faffing about:

Shirou Emiya is an Ordinary High-School Student who also knows a bit of magic from his late adopted father. One day, he’s working late in the schoolyard when he discovers two superhuman beings fighting with sword and spears. He runs away in terror, and then the spearman kills him

Somehow he wakes up not dead, because someone managed to heal his life-threatening injury, but he doesn’t know who. He decides the best course of action is to just go home.

The spearman [Lancer] somehow finds out he’s not dead and so then shows up at his house to finish the job. But then, out of nowhere, a girl knight [Saber] shows up to protect Shirou. She says she is sworn to fight for him and protect him. Then she goes and beats the spearman and others with her invisible sword. It’s invisible so that way no one can tell how long it is.

Saber senses other enemies nearby, so she nearly kills a red knight [Archer] and is about to finish off his master before Shirou convinces her to stop because he has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Archer’s master is Rin, Shirou’s classmate, who is a combination of being very, very jealous of how powerful the person Shirou summoned is and very offended that a Servant like Saber was given to someone like Shirou who literally knows nothing and is a complete amateur Mage.

Rin is a decent person, though, so gives him the infodump, and then takes him to the church to meet the supervisor, Kirei Kotomine, who gives him more infodumps.

Kirei asks Shirou if he’ll fight. He does actually have a choice, surprisingly (If you say no you just get a bad ending, though). Shirou says yes upon hearing the last time this ritual happened, it caused the fire that killed his parents and home, and doesn’t want that to repeat itself.

As they get home, they’re confronted by a new enemy: Illya and her Servant Berserker. Berserker seems way stronger than Saber, and Shirou like an idiot jumps in the way of a fatal attack to protect Saber.

Conveniently, this is the time where Shirou discovers he’s basically immortal. It’s a long story, but it does make sense. And then for some reason Illya decides to just leave them and not finish them off.

Shirou and Rin regroup and decide to work together to defeat Berserker.

They then faff about for a few days and try to do something with the evil ritual magic installed on the roof of their school.

I think at this point...? Saber gets pissed off Shirou isn’t trying to fight anyone, so goes off to fight on her own. She then gets stopped by Assassin from fighting the other Servant Caster. Assassin and Saber have a sword duel, and it’s probably one of the best parts of the story. Saber isn’t sure how to beat him until they get conveniently interrupted and Shirou shows up to convince her to go home. Assassin conveniently doesn’t follow them.

Kinda out of nowhere, Shirou shows up to school and the evil magic activates, draining everyone there of their life force. His friend/rival Shiji shows up and reveals he’s a Master and the one behind this, and basically just wanted to shove it in Shirou’s face because he’s a dick. Shirou tries fighting them without Saber and it goes about as well as you expect, so he realises for the first time he needs Saber’s help and summons her when he gets thrown out a window.

Saber beats the crap out of Shinji’s servant Rider, but they escape.

They then spend the next few days looking for them and find them in the city at night randomly. Rider lures Saber to a rooftop to use her super-special technique on her, but Saber retaliates by using *her* super-special technique to overpower it, showing to Shirou that it is Excalibur and she is The King Of Motherfucking Britain, Arthur. This fight is also awesome.

problem is because Shirou isn’t a Mage, using her super attack drains her of most of her energy, so she essentially can no longer fight after this

Then Shirou randomly gets kidnapped by Illya? Who sends weird lolicon yandere vibes and tries to trap his soul in a doll or something for safekeeping. Saber and Rin show up to save him.

They escape, but Illya sets Berserker on them. Rin sacrifices Archer to fight him to buy them some time. They apparently have a super-awesome battle off-screen, but Archer ultimately loses.

There’s basically no way to beat Berserker without Saber at full power, so they replenish her power by having sex. Or something that might as well be sex. This was originally an eroge.

Now prepared, Shirou, Saber and Rin take on Berserker. Berserker is still too strong for them, but Shirou conveniently figures out his real magic ability is to be able to create copies of every sword he’s seen. He copies Saber’s lost legendary sword, and the two of them completely annihilate Berserker with it. It’s got a CG moment and everything, they’re fighting together now! It’s pretty cool.

So Berserker is gone, and so is Archer (so Rin isn’t an eventual enemy they’ll need to fight), there’s only a few enemies left and they’re not stronger than Saber. Shirou even took pity on Illya and she’s hanging out with them now. Everything should be hunky-dory, right?

Of course not! While Caster attacks them and Saber quickly overpowers her, a new guy shows up. It’s another Archer, apparently from the last Holy Grail War, who’s super-super OP and functions thematically as Saber’s abusive ex-boyfriend. After utterly destroying Caster, he says he’ll own Saber soon enough and just leaves.

I think at this point Shirou and Saber go on a date? And then they have a fight because Shirou still refuses to respect Saber’s decisions because he thinks they’re wrong and it’s framed as a both-sides-are-wrong but honestly it rubbed me the wrong way.

I think Archer (let’s just call him Gilgamesh now) shows up to take Saber, but Shirou lasts out enough to confuse the hell out of him with his immortality hax and Saber finally figures out Shirou has the sheath of Excalibur in his spine. It makes sense in context, tbh. I don’t remember why Gilgamesh then just leaves them alone, but he does.

The final battle shows up kind of unexpectedly. Shirou is going around asking Kirei what to do about Gilgamesh, who seems like a violation of the rules, when he sees some tunnel in the church to a basement and gets Bad Vibes so he decides to check it out

There he sees a bunch of barely-human monstrosities who had their souls slowly devoured for...something

Then Kirei shows up. Without any hesitation, he casually tells Shirou that he was the villain behind basically everything. He’s the Master of Lancer, these monstrosities were orphans who he’s been using as living magic fuel, and he was also the one who started the fire that killed Shirou’s parents. While playing this, it felt so over-the-top evil I thought it was dumb, but come Heaven’s Feel, I started appreciating Kirei’s hustle so much more that honestly his character is great. Dude’s just got a goal and doesn’t care what he does to achieve it.

Kirei just wants to see if Shirou and Saber are worthy to accept the Holy Grail, although he explains the Holy Grail is also evil, but it’ll still be able to grant their wishes. Through their character development, both Shirou and Saber realise they’ve worked through their trauma enough that they don’t want its power to undo the past for them.

Hearing that, Kirei decides “well, if you guys aren’t worthy of it, I’m taking it for myself”, and sends both Lancer and Gilgamesh on them, revealing Gilgamesh is his Servant, too.

Lancer because he’s the best decides that’s a stupid idea and double-crosses Kirei, fighting Gilgamesh so Saber and Shirou can escape.

I don’t know what happens in the meantime, but clearly Kirei had time to get back to their house before them. He kidnaps Illya because she’s needed to activate the Holy Grail and injures Rin, although Rin leaves her magic dagger with Shirou before she passes out.

They then have time to prepare for the final battle against Kirei and Gilgamesh. Shirou decides to take Excalibur’s sheath out of his spine to give back to its owner because I guess he can just do that. This is important because you get a bad ending if you don’t choose that option.

In the final battle, Shirou fights Kirei while Saber fights Gilgamesh. Both of them are having trouble until they use the sheath of Excalibur at the same time (I guess Shirou creates a copy while Saber uses the real one). They both defeat their opponents and yay the day is saved and they’ve won.

While Shirou and Saber could take the Holy Grail now, they’ve both realised 1) there aren’t any wishes they want granted because the two of them have everything they want and 2) it’s still probably evil so it’s best if it’s destroyed.

Shirou tells Saber to destroy the Grail, which also erases her from Servant existence meaning they’ll never be able to see each other again. Saber says she loves him and disappears.

Shirou decides to continue living...a life, I guess, while Saber accepts the moment of her death as King Arthur and the True Ending is on her dying in England peacefully.