#on account of it making the most sense in terms of me being a spider-person

[violetsgayhouse]

If you have a spider-sona, does that make Cami Poison Ivy? 8D (I can’t rly think of a plant chara that’s not necessary a “villain” but think a lot of modern takes has her still doing things for the environment so kinda like catwoman but slightly less selfish ahah (that said nothing with the hero x villain secretly dating tropes lol)

(Ah there is nature girl who has antler ears lol, I think it mentions that she becomes a villain at some point but from x men so the villains are nuanced and usually right like Magneto was lol)

CAMI IN SPIDER-KATS UNIVERSE I HADNT THOUGHT OF THAT...... i gotta learn more of the more prominent characters that are (mostly) consistent in a spider-persons universe to figure out her exact spot there but i like that a lot

[traincat]

I was just wondering, was it ever stated what Ben's job was before he died? He must have made at least just enough money to support himself, May, Peter and pay the bills if he was the sole breadwinner of the house, and when he died Peter had to get a job and May had to sell her belongings. Personally, I think his job was mechanical in a way, like a car mechanic or something. It would explain where Peter got the tools to build his web shooters.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think Ben’s job has ever been stated in 616. I think there are certain things we can infer about it just from Ben’s personality and the little snatches of the Parkers’ lives we see before his death -- it was definitely blue collar, well paying enough to support a two adult household who suddenly and unexpectedly inherited a small child and where one of those adults has spent significant amounts of canon in poor health but not well paying enough to keep them financially comfortable or entirely out of the red. (We do have to account for things like the sliding timescale.) Ben doesn’t come across as overly educated, in fairly sharp contrast to his brother Richard, which is interesting -- but there is a substantial age gap between Ben and Richard, and it’s possible that Ben could have foregone his own education to pay for Richard’s schooling himself or that Richard, who is a spy in 616, might have had his education paid for by SHIELD. We know even less about Richard than we do about Ben, and to be honest, we don’t know that much about Ben. But I would agree with you; I think Ben most likely worked either in a mechanical field or in construction, definitely in some sort of trade where there would be room for him to move into a management position as he got older and demanding physical labor became more difficult for him. Ben comes across as aggressively blue collar, very salt of the earth, praising Peter’s intelligence and the same time as he pushes Peter into more physical pursuits, and I think it makes the most sense that Peter’s technical know-how and handyman skills (we see him fixing a roof at one point in Sensational Spider-Man) were learned at home from Ben. I think Ben’s job was definitely in a trade. 

(My personal headcanon here, and I’m just spinning things out, is that the Parker family on Ben’s side are probably pretty recent immigrants -- with Ben either coming to the US from Europe as a small child or being born in the US very shortly after his parents arrived, with Richard being born in the US a number of years afterward. It’s one way to explain the gap between Ben and Richard, both in terms of education and in age. I think the Parkers are Jewish, but that Ben is almost aggressively not religious, which accounts for a lot of Peter’s own feelings on the subject, and that Ben probably has strong communist leanings.) 

But to move away from 616 for a second -- we do know what Ben Parker does for a living in the TASM movies ‘verse, although it’s a little bit hidden, and I’m obsessed with it, it is such a good piece of worldbuilding: TASM Ben is a bridge worker.

“He built bridges for a living but for for fun he made and repaired old watches and clocks.” - The Amazing Spider-Man tie-in comic #1. Love it, obsessed with it, I love the looming specter of the bridge in the TASM movies and how it’s just this constantly reoccurring motif even though TASM’s Night Gwen Stacy Died scene doesn’t take place at the bridge. I like this for Ben because it hits a lot of character notes that feel true to me -- it’s a job in construction, it’s very local, it fits in with Ben’s entire salt of the earth deal, and it’s a union job. Ben Parker 100% seems like a union man to me.

There’s a magnet you can spot on the Parkers’ fridge in the first movie, and May wears Ben’s shirt as pajamas, which is very cute. (We know TASM May works as a waitress initially before she starts training to be a nurse.) So I’m very into that. I’m not sure it’s what I think 616 Ben does exactly, but I think 616 Ben could very easily be in the same vein of work. It just feels very fitting.

[popwasabi]

“The Mandalorian” S2 is a power fantasy with mini Star Wars trailers

The term “Plot armor” is often used by readers and viewers to describe the myriad of ways writers keep their heroes away from any real danger no matter what choices or actions they make in the narrative. It’s typically a derisive phrase for the way a writer’s hero seems to escape death no matter what is thrown at him for the sole purpose of moving the plot forward.

In Disney+’s “The Mandalorian” this term takes a far more literal description in the form of our main anti-hero, played by Pedro Pascal, in his beskar armor which seems to be, by all accounts the most indestructible material in the galaxy far, far away.

(I mean, it still looks really cool too, of course.)

The result of this narrative decision in this series is that action scenes often don’t have real tension to them. In another series you might be able to reasonably believe the hero might be in danger with blaster fire shooting all around them but with beskar it’s almost comically not the case at all. Stormtroopers fire laser blast after laser blast at The Mando and each time they bounce harmlessly off him as if he were fucking Superman. It makes scenes feel devoid of stakes and danger no matter what situation they are in.

The show thus becomes a power fantasy, as action scenes serve as extended highlight reels for the Mando. Where season 1 of the show mitigated the power of the Mando’s plot armor by putting him more often in situations where his beskar alone wasn’t enough to save the day, season 2 goes mostly full power fantasy as The Mando rarely runs into a situation he can’t just quite literally walk through.

(“Aim for his armor, men! That’s his weak point!”)

This isn’t to say the season wasn’t without its high moments or even that it wasn’t enjoyable plenty of times but the series’ devotion to fan servicey action and callbacks to “Hey remember ____” makes it a fairly shallow story. At least for myself.

Season 2 of “The Mandalorian” continues the story of Din and his small Yoda-like companion, The Child (later known officially as Grogu), as he looks to complete a quest to return the burgeoning Force wielder to the Jedi. As he seeks to reunite The Child with the ancient Order, he encounters other Mandalorians who are on a quest to retake Mandalore and right on their tail is the nefarious Grand Moff Gideon who is still bent on capturing Grogu for whatever it is he has planned for the Empire.

Let me start this review by saying power fantasies aren’t inherently bad to watch or read. They can be good, cathartic junk food for the soul and can also be compelling, artistic, or even deeply metaphorical in their own way. A movie series like “John Wick” for instance is a power fantasy that aims to reinvent the wheel in action film-making with Keanu Reeves performing perhaps the best gun kata of all-time onscreen. Another film like Paul Verhoueven’s “Total Recall” can satirize the power fantasy to show how ridiculous it is in concept.

So, making your hero an unstoppable killing machine isn’t necessarily always a bad thing if used properly.

(Seriously, this is one of the smartest action films ever made. Don’t @ me.)

Now that that’s established, however, “The Mandalorian” season 2, despite some strong moments here and there, is a power fantasy that lacks these elements for a more interesting narrative. If you believe killing dozens of stormtroopers onscreen while never suffering so much as a scratch for eight episodes equals compelling storytelling then boy does Disney have a series for you.

Through the first four-ish episodes, the new season is mostly just fine and even quite enjoyable. We have the Mando getting a fun side quest with Timothy Olyphant on Tatooine where they get to wrangle a sand worm in a callback to the Westerns that inspired much of the franchise’s aesthetic. The Mando gets to escort a frog lady to her home planet to give birth to some tadpoles and they run into some actual danger in this episode in the form of kyrnknas/space spiders. And we get the return of Bo Katan from Dave Filoni’s “Clone Wars” and “Rebels” cartoon series, with Katee Sackhoff herself reprising the role in a fun Mandalorian team-up episode.

(I’m just so happy to see my girl, Starbuck, again more than anything honestly ;_;)

But the wheels started officially falling off for me in the next episode.

Episode 5 marked the live-action debut of fan favorite Ahsoka Tano, played by Rosario Dawson, and she meets the Mando by getting the jump on him with her lightsabers. In virtually any other situation we have been told lightsabers can cut through virtually anything. Now, beskar has been shown to be plenty durable throughout the series so far but lightsabers? Surely not.

Well…

It is an overall good episode despite this but it marked the point for me where I badly wanted The Mando to just go the rest of the series without it. Obviously, the writers aren’t going to actually kill our hero, afterall The Mouse needs more money and he can’t have it unless we get 50 more Mandalorian episodes and spin-offs, but at some point I gotta feel like there’s a possibility at least that our hero might actually die or at least is in danger. It is actually super funny to me each time The Mando ducks or seeks cover in a shootout when I know, and the viewer damn well knows, he can literally walk right into the middle of it and shoot all these motherfuckers at his own leisure cause his actual plot armor is the stuff of adamantium and vibranium combined.

Episode 5 is mostly good though, it’s a nice callback to old school samurai flicks and for an old fan like myself it was enough to ignore beskar again saving the Mando’s ass.

(This was cool...This...was...cool.)

If episode 5 marked the point in which the wheels began to come off though, episode 6 is where the show really spun out into the ditch for me. Perhaps, this series worst episode, personally, episode 6 reintroduces fan favorite and series inspiration Boba Fett back officially into the fold and the result was perhaps the most self-indulgent entry of the series.

(I mean, it was directed by Robert Rodriguez so...)

Boba arrives to demand his beskar from The Mando who promptly tells him “no” before they are ambushed by a platoon of stormtroopers. Alongside Ming-Na Wen’s Fennec Shand, the three do battle with the stormtroopers with ridiculous ease. I’m aware that stormtroopers exist to be on the highlight reel of our heroes in this franchise and have a long history of not being able to hit the broad side of a bantha but again, I can only watch these guys die by the dozens onscreen over and over again while our heroes get away without suffering even a bruise before it starts feeling boring and repetitive.

It only gets worse once Boba actually puts on his armor. In a sequence that I would describe as “gratuitously” fan servicey, Boba wastes just about every last stormtrooper in this scene culminating with him destroying their two get-away vehicles in a single shot with a rocket. Considering he was killing them with ease just moments before with nothing more than a battle club and a bathrobe, it seemed almost hilariously needless that he donned his iconic armor.

(It would be tempting to say the stormtroopers fought as ineptly as the Putty Patrol here but even the Power Rangers have struggled a few times against these guys...)

I get that Boba is really important to a lot of fans, based on their perceptions of him in the original trilogy and subsequent books and graphic novels that came out in the following years, but here’s a hot take; this series didn’t need him in it. Maybe they didn’t need to keep him rotting in the Sarlacc Pit but this episode, alongside Ahsoka Tano’s feels more like marketing choices for the story rather than narrative ones. I’ll concede that there is a bit more substance to having Ahsoka there to commune with Grogu but their additions to the plot don’t actually show much of anything about the Mando outside physically helping him in a fight.

The way they tease, in both cases, stories that exist outside the internal narrative between Ahsoka’s search for Admiral Thrawn and Boba taking over Jabba’s palace at the end of the final episode, it feels like Disney threw in mini trailers for fans to nibble on at the expense of telling the Mando’s own story and letting it stand on its own like the first season.

The choice to have these characters shoved into this season again appears to be market driven not narrative. Once more, I get that these characters are important personally to many fans, but the appearance of these characters alone DO NOT equal good storytelling.

(Me when a fan tells me “But Boba was such a badass in *obscurely titled EU book that a handful of general audiences have read*! He deserves this moment!”)

The final episode of the season is truly encapsulating of all these issues “The Mandalorian” has, however. Moff Gideon, played by the always sharp Giancarlo Esposito, has Grogu imprisoned aboard his ship. The Mando and his friends plan a rescue mission to save him and, just like nearly every episode before, it is stupidly easy for our protagonists.

The crew of five, again, walk through every Imperial on the ship. I don’t mean this metaphorically by the way, I mean this literally as Cara, Fennec, Bo Katan and Koshka Reeves (played by WWE’s Sasha Banks) without a single moment of real adversity just blast through every stormtrooper on the ship and never get hit once in the process.

A good action scene needs an element of danger, a sense that our hero might actually not come out of this alive even though we all know they will. An action scene without this has no tension and without tension it becomes booooooooring.

(Even John fucking Wick is capable of bleeding, guys...)

The finale had a chance, however, to add real stakes and danger to the scene in the form of this season’s new enemy; The Dark Troopers. These Imperial battle droids were foreshadowed as these super soldiers at the end of episode 4 and seemed to be billed as a real dangerous match for our heroes to faceup against. When the Mando finally gets himself face to face with one he finds they are not as easy to kill as the nameless stormtroopers from before. To see The Mando briefly face real adversity for a change snapped me out of my cynical mood so sharply for a moment I thought I had turned on another series by accident.

But of course, danger never lasts long in this series as The Mando’s armor again saves him first from getting pummeled to death by the droid’s super fists then he uses his plot spear, cause of course he has one of those too, to finish the job.

Danger over.

Moff Gideon doesn’t fair much better in this episode. This villain who had been built up for two seasons as this calculative monster gets stopped rather easily with Mando and his friends barely breaking a sweat. This character feels wasted because of this, even though I’m sure Giancarlo Esposito will return in the next season. He just feels about as much like a pushover as the nameless stormtroopers in this series.

The episode had one more chance though to show these Dark Troopers meant business toward the end as we found the heroes cornered on the command deck with nowhere to run and a dozen of these droids ready to blast and pound them into the floorboards. But help arrives in the form of a Deus X-Wing Machina.

Without having to face even one Dark Trooper, Luke fucking Skywalker arrives on the ship and kills every droid without breaking a sweat. It plays as inspiring in the moment but again I just found myself bored and irritated. A chance to see the series heroes actually use their wits and show their creativity in a moment of true danger thwarted to please fan boys.

I get that Grogu called out to him in episode 6 but creatively this felt like an extremley lazy way to solve the heroes’ dilemna.

(“Hello my name is Jedi. I enjoy doing...*computes script* Jedi things.”)

This season wasn’t all bad. It certainly had nice production value that made each alien world pop and beautiful to look at. Every actor and actress played their parts expertly well, with what they were given, and made for interesting characters at times. There are also nice homages to both Western and Samurai cinema throughout the season that fans of both will appreciate. And Pedro Pascal is just so good on his own, especially in tender moments with Grogu, that you forget that his character is kind of a Gary Stu.

But the main crux of the issue here that I’m trying to get across is the reason you need to remove the plot armor of your heroes is not just because action scenes need tension and stakes, it’s that when faced with danger these scenes reveal who these characters are. I used to believe that the reason Mandalorians and Jedi had such a fierce rivalry in the lore despite the obvious advantages of wielding the Force was because these famed bounty hunters were just that fucking good at killing. That despite being, on paper, normal people they had great martial prowess, athletic skill, and the tactical wit to outsmart people who can literally sense their feelings. But now with beskar and the way this series is written, it appears the Mandalorians were challenging warriors just because they happened to harness the most OP armor building material in the galaxy.

It makes you wonder how the fuck they were conquered to begin with…

(Maybe they just needed more knee rockets...)

This takes away from the mysticism of the Mandalorians for me. It makes The Mando less interesting to me in the way he fights. Yea he can shoot really good too but really it’s the armor that makes him the fighter that he is and I find that kind of boring. We occasionally get this character to remove the armor during the series, including a whole episode that was easily one of the best of the season, and in every case he’s more interesting once the helmet comes off. I get that fans hold a lot of reverence for that armor, yea it still looks really cool, but making it this impenetrable super material doesn’t add anything to the story.

If anything, it takes away from it.

(Plus how could you not love Pedro Pascal when he’s out of armor? uWu)

I wouldn’t go as far as to say I hate season 2, even though I spent 2000 plus words just now lambasting it but I guess I just want to say I am unimpressed more than anything. I feel like I’ve seen better Star Wars be it in the movies, cartoons, books, video games, etc and I’ve certainly seen better action in the franchise as well.

Considering fan reaction so far appears to be overwhelmingly positive, I am definitely in the minority here and you are welcome to enjoy this series as much as you want in spite of how unimpressed I am with the season. But considering all I have seen of this fandom the last few years, regarding complaints about fan service (“Rogue One”), easily defeated/underdeveloped bad guys (“The Last Jedi”), and Mary Sues (The sequel trilogy in general), I have to ask again what is it actually that fans like or don’t like about new entries in the franchise? It’s not that there isn’t valid criticisms there and “The Mandalorian” is enjoyable in sincere ways too but it has many of the issues I hear commonly said of more divisive entries in the Disneyverse. So why does it get a pass?

I’ve been told it’s not worth my energy to talk too derisively about the fans in one of my earlier write-ups, so I’ll leave it at that but it does make me wonder.

(“Rogue One” admittedly has a simarily self-indulgent action sequence though haha...)

Season 2 of “The Mandalorian” isn’t the worst piece of Star Wars media ever created, far from it, and for most part its solid enjoyable Saturday morning cartoon theater but if the series wants to really take steps to become more compelling in the future it might be good to stop bubble wrapping their heroes in plot armor. Literally.

Until then this is the way…I guess…

Me getting ready for the backlash...

[wickedmilo]

BASEBALL AND SPIDER MONKEYS | MILO & ORION  PART 1

PLACE: Orion’s house TIMING: 11:12 PM SUMMARY: Orion hosts a vampire movie night to help Milo feel better about the changes in his life WRITING PARTNER: @3starsquinn​ CONTENT WARNINGS: Some brief NSFW humour

Milo wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. Rio wasn’t the type to lie, and had been pretty clear about living in a large property alone. Maybe he was developing trust issues, because standing in the kitchen now, staring out at the expanse of space, he felt guilty for ever doubting his friend. It was a large property, a nice one too. He was glad he had somewhere decent to stay. If anybody deserved that, it was Orion. The fact that he had put himself on the line, had created such a permanent rift between himself and Dani, for the sake of keeping him safe… it was something he still considered when he allowed his mind to wander. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to repay him, though showing up for movie nights felt like a pretty good place to start. He had a sneaking suspicion Orion had organised this particular watch party in an attempt to make him feel more grounded, to make him feel more at ease with his new life… or death. But he was really hoping his company had something to offer Rio in return. It must get lonely sometimes, such a big house with nobody in it. 

Turning his attention back to the popcorn as it began to pop in the microwave, he leaned heavily against the kitchen counter. The smell was already overwhelming, but he had been the one to insist. It wasn’t a movie night without popcorn, and something about the mundane routine was incredibly comforting. “So,” he said, turning briefly to Rio who was sitting beside him on the kitchen counter. “What did you say was on the list?” Still watching the timer as it continued to count down the seconds, he used his fingers to tick off the list of franchises he had been given by his friend. “Twilight, of course. But you said The Vampire Diaries, right? Specifically episode one? Did you make this list? Or did you steal it from a teenage girl’s tumblr account? Be honest with me.” 

Sitting on the counter, Orion listened to the microwave’s buzzing as the kernels slowly started to pop. For once, the sound of the microwave and the distant sound of the pool filter wasn’t the only thing to keep Rio busy. He wasn’t sure anybody had been in the house to hang out with him since Skylar had left. It was such a relief to have somebody occupying space in the kitchen with him again. Even if this was only temporary, it was worth it. For just today at least, he wouldn’t feel so alone in this house. “Stop looking like that.” Rio warned, catching his eyes as they floated around the place, “I know what you’re thinking. I’m not a real housewife or whatever those rich people shows are. All of this was purely by chance. And it’s not mine. I’m just staying here for now.” Rio smiled, but he truly didn’t want Milo thinking the wrong thing. He didn’t know why he hated the idea of people thinking this was actually his house, but something about it felt wrong. Like he was living a facade. It was partially true, but not because of this house.

“Not necessarily in that order.” Orion checked his phone for the list he had compiled. Most of the media he had never consumed himself. His parents had never been fond of their children watching such inaccurate depictions of supernatural creatures. They didn’t want Athena and Rio to get the wrong idea of what they were weak to, but more than anything else they didn’t want them romanticizing the idea of what they considered monsters. Clearly, something had gone wrong along the way with Rio. “I did my research from multiple sources.” Rio countered, not necessarily disclosing where those sources came from. “I never got to watch this stuff growing up, so I’m going in just as blind as you. But I have seen some scenes from Twilight. Personally, I think it could have been worse.” 

Milo laughed, unable to help himself. “I’m not looking like anything.” He insisted, holding up his hands in surrender. “I am, however, wondering who your sugar daddy is and how I can get in on the action.” His eyes were shining with mischief as he teased Orion. He knew his friend wouldn’t mind, and sometimes he just made it so easy. “Oh, because the order is important?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Trash is trash, Rio. Sometimes you just gotta sit back and enjoy it.” Pulling open the door to the microwave as the alarm began to sound, he shook the bag of popcorn before emptying it into the bowl he had ready. His fingertips burned with the heat. It was strange no longer needing to worry about that. “Multiple sources being tumblr?” He raised his eyebrows, chewing absentmindedly on a piece of popcorn. The taste was pretty close to how he remembered it, only dull, and one note. Wrinkling his nose, he took another piece for the sake of it.  

“Wait, you never got to watch vampire movies?” He had wrongly assumed Rio’s childhood largely consisted of vampire movies, and scary supernatural YA. It made sense considering what he was, what his parents were hoping he would grow up to become. Realising that may not be true was a reminder of just how much he didn’t know, just how much they still had to talk about when Orion was ready. If Orion was ready. “Wouldn’t that be like… homework for you?” He was genuinely curious to know. He hadn’t been allowed to watch much TV because his own parents had made it very clear they wanted him to study in his free time. But surely watching shows about the supernatural, learning about the supernatural, was studying for a hunter. “I guess we’re in it together then. Maybe we should start with Twilight after that glowing review.”  

“I know you’re joking and that you don’t actually think I have a sugar… dad.” Orion scrunched his nose at the thought of saying the word. He didn’t have the emotional capacity to have a relationship like that. “It was a very specific and weird order of events that led to me being here. Including but not limited to my parents sucking, invading a girl’s privacy, getting attacked by a man eating watermelon and eventually the only person I’ve ever dated and I breaking up.” He was shortening events obviously, but this provided a very small glimpse of the life that Rio never disclosed to Milo at the comic book shop. They had never talked much about personal lives there, avoiding it altogether to chat about comic books instead. “My sources prefer to remain undisclosed.” He crossed his arms and pouted, abandoning Milo in the kitchen with the popcorn to head to the living room. 

“It’s not really considered homework when it’s not accurate.” Rio spoke normally, but figured Milo would be able to hear him from where he was in the kitchen. Rio started setting up the tv to get their first pick of the night ready. “Not to say all of them are inaccurate, they all get a little bit right. But they thought it would do more harm than good.” Rio still found time to watch a few when he could. Whether it was through the movie theater or at the Scribrary when he not so formally moved in there. “Besides, vampires were never my families focus anyways.” He nodded in agreement with Milo on the movie pick and found the movie, starting it up before pausing, “Ready when you are.” 

“But am I joking though?” Milo teased, laughing at the term Orion chose to use. “You can say daddy, you know. It isn’t going to kill you.” He laughed again, surprising himself with how easily the sound escaped him. Hugging the bowl of popcorn to his chest, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so at ease, couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so warm. “Was the specific order of events signing up to a sugar daddy website? Going on a date? And then securing a sugar daddy?” Falling silent when Rio began to elaborate, he was reminded not for the first time of just how strange his life had been. Nobody who hadn’t grown up with the supernatural could ever drop a carnivorous watermelon into the conversation as though it was on the same level as a break up. “Huh, no kidding about the complicated…” He muttered, deciding not to ask any further questions. He didn’t want to bring the mood down, but he also didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable. There was a time and a place for serious conversation, and the start of a trashy movie marathon didn’t feel like either.  

Chewing on another piece of popcorn, he didn’t immediately follow Rio to the living room. Instead, he took the time to enjoy the moment, observing the mundane aspects of the kitchen, and appreciating them in a way he never had before. His life had been turned upside down, for a month before meeting Harsh he had spent his time between the abandoned buildings, the streets of town, and the woods. No kitchens, no bathrooms, no comfortable living space. It felt good to be back, to be grounded again. Listening to Orion as he explained why his parents had kept him away from certain shows and films, he could almost understand the logic. Not knowing whether Hunters had hearing on par with his own, he finally wandered into the living room to reply. “I guess that makes sense… though I can think of a few films that would probably help if they were trying to make you see these people as monsters. I mean basically every horror movie ever, let’s be real.” Raising his eyebrows at the mention of vampires not being the family's focus, he set the popcorn down on the coffee table. “Oh, yeah?” He asked, dropping onto the couch, making himself comfortable without any kind hesitation. Couch surfing in the years before his death had left him more than capable of relaxing in other people’s houses. “Do I want to know what your family’s focus was?” Nodding towards the screen, he let Rio know he was ready without potentially interrupting an answer to his question. There was still so much he needed to learn.  

“I really feel like it could kill me. For my own sanity I’ll just avoid saying it altogether.” Milo was saying the word daddy way too many times for Orion’s sanity. Was this what Rio had set himself up for when he stayed in Skylar’s house? Sugar daddy accusations? The idea might be a bit less shocking if normal, no strings attached sex didn’t terrify Rio to his core. He couldn’t even sleep with his ex, who he adored. He couldn’t say he was surprised when Milo didn’t ask for any elaboration. Life here was complicated. They wouldn’t actually get to watch anything if they waited around for Rio to tell his life story. 

“They had plenty of stories all on their own.” Rio remembered his parents' stories vividly. They spared no detail of the gore they had witnessed. They liked to talk about the death and destruction werewolves or fae would leave behind. Though they never spent as much time talking about what they would do to it in turn. Ironically, the ending always included some kind of heroic intervention. Their parents or their grandparents swooping in at the perfect time and serving justice. His sister used to fall for those stories every single time. Rio used to be afraid of those stories. It wasn’t until he got older that he realized exactly what he should have been afraid of. Rio pressed play on the movie and let it get started, but continued talking with Milo. “Depends on how much about the supernatural you want to know. Both of my parents came from different families of hunters. So Athena and I got to focus on two things growing up. Werewolves and Fae. But my… abilities were always focused towards werewolves.”  

Milo made a big deal about pouting in disappointment. “Is that because you’re only allowed to say it in Daddy’s company?” He asked, before raising his arms in surrender. “Okay, okay- I’ll stop now, I swear- I couldn’t resist.” His smile fading as the conversation became serious once again, he leaned back against the cushions behind him, listening intently to what Orion had to say. His own parents had been strict, and rigid. Growing up, their expectations of him had been unreasonably high, and in his opinion, put him under an unnecessary amount of stress. But they had been loving, and caring, and they had never resorted to scare tactics. He couldn’t imagine the trauma Rio might be carrying from being intentionally scared by the people who were supposed to protect him. Had they really told him stories equal to the horror movies he used to binge watch? Surely it had to be worse if they were based on the truth? On experiences they had been through?  

Laughing quietly, he reached forward again to pick up the popcorn bowl, somehow feeling more comfortable when he was holding it. The smell reminded him of watching movies with his parents, as did the action of occasionally eating some, even if the taste wasn’t quite there anymore. “I mean, it isn’t as though I can just ignore it…” He pointed out. He could bury his head in the sand, but there were too many things out there he had a feeling he should know about. Supernatural life had to be easier when you understood the full extent of the world you were living in. He wanted that to be true, at least. “Huh… so werewolves really do exist.” He muttered, more to himself than to Rio. It was something he had suspected for a while, but his friend was now the first person to confirm the fact. “Fae?” He echoed, realising he wasn’t familiar with the term. Pausing for a moment, recognising the way Orion hesitated, he chewed thoughtfully on a piece of popcorn, offering the bowl to him as though it might remind him he was in a safe environment. “So, forgetting the- you know, the bad stuff, what can you do?” He asked curiously. “You’re different, right? You told Dani you barely counted as human so… are we talking Spider-Man backflips? Or is it something else? Was one of your ancestors bitten by a radioactive werewolf?” He wanted to give Orion the chance to talk in a playful way, in a way that almost trivialised the darker aspects of his life. Rio had begun to make vampire jokes, and the relaxed environment they created helped to lift some of the weight from his shoulders. Maybe, just maybe, he could return the sentiment. 

Orion was mostly happy to ignore the beginning scenes of the movie in favor of talking with Milo. Even if the topic was his least favorite to discuss. For some reason, things with Milo just seemed easier. He could casually talk about topics he would usually avoid unless absolutely necessary. “Sorry to ruin your fun. I’m sure you wanted to find out about werewolves naturally.” Rio laughed, gesturing for the bowl of popcorn and then opening his mouth to see if Milo would try to throw it to him. “Fae are a lot more complicated. That’s a supernatural lesson for another night. But they have their own sect of hunters.” He didn’t need to overwhelm Milo with all of that knowledge. There were too many fae to describe in a single setting anyways. Not that Rio knew all of them as it was.  

Rio couldn’t but laugh at the radioactive werewolf comment. The comic humor didn’t escape him, but it was the irony of the theory that made it even better “Oh god I wish. If hunters found out they were actually descended from werewolves I think their heads would spin.” Rio might actually go back to the Silver Bullet if he got to see that. “Yeah. I guess. I have this sort of… sixth sense I guess. If a werewolf is around I can feel it.” The gift that kept on giving. He had never figured out if there was an off switch to it. He mostly just dealt with it until he went numb to the tingling sensation. “I have faster reflexes. I’m kinda strong. I heal a bit faster than normal humans. Oh and I can see in the dark.” Rio tried shrugging them off. He never liked his abilities. No matter how great they might be objectively. “I could probably do a spider-man backflip if I trained. Any more questions?” 

“Oh, no. I’ve already found out way too much without anyone to guide me through it. I’m done with finding things out on my own.” Milo assured his friend. In reality, it had been an incredibly difficult, and jarring process, but sitting here with Orion now made it more than easy to shrug off. Raising his eyebrows when he realised what he was being asked to do with the popcorn, he laughed, shifting on the sofa to give himself a better angle before aiming carefully. He so nearly missed, but with a sharp tilt of his head Rio caught the popcorn on his tongue, and he felt a ridiculous sense of accomplishment that definitely wasn’t warranted. Nodding in acceptance of Fae being too broad of a subject to cover without ruining the evening, he shelved his curiosity, ready for another night, another conversation. Offering Orion a grin when he laughed, he was genuinely proud of himself for being able to draw it out of him. He knew him well enough to understand this subject wasn’t one he was overly comfortable with. And he was not only talking about it now, but willing to joke about it. He enjoyed that.  

“The ultimate plot twist, right?” He agreed, listening to the description of a sixth sense, wondering if it felt anything like being able to sense the blood pumping through a person’s veins. There were some moments it was all he could think about, hearing their heartbeat, feeling the heat of their skin, the pulse in their neck… he swallowed, pushing away the thought before he could make himself thirsty. That wasn’t going to be productive. And it certainly wouldn’t do anything to help his case in proving to Orion he was the same person he had always been. “So kind of like Spider-Man?” He confirmed. “I was almost right.” At the mention of any more questions, he sat up straight, attempting to look as serious as he could. “Only two. Potentially the two most important questions you are ever going to be asked. Number one; are you Team Edward, or Team Jacob?” He waited for his words to register before continuing, gesturing to the screen where the Cullen’s were entering the school cafeteria. They were walking in slow motion, their skin white, and pale against the film’s dramatic colour grading, and their faces were striking, intense, so obviously intended to be sexy. “Number two;” he added, maintaining his mock sincerity. “Do I look like that now? There’s only one right answer to this question, okay? Don’t hurt my feelings.”  

Orion hadn’t exactly spoken about his history with the Scribrary. Or rather, two separate scribe buildings that he had access to now. The drama with Dani and the discovery of the hunter heritage all felt so fresh that RIo didn’t feel the need to pile on top of that with the Scribe history. But Milo might have lucked out in friendship when it came to finding someone with supernatural knowledge. Milo accommodated Rio’s request and tossed a piece of popcorn that Rio just barely managed to catch. The surprise took over, and he shot his arms up in the air in a triumphant cheer, maybe an overreaction but not one he was going to regret.  

“I’m not that lucky. My family was convinced that the powers come directly from God. So take that as you will.” Rio was glad Milo was getting such a kick out of this. It was surprisingly easy to talk about it when the conversation wasn’t so… depressing. “Basically. I’m not nearly as cool or pretty as Peter Parker though.” He had gone through a long Peter Parker phase when he was younger, for obvious reasons. Rio was ready for his follow up questions until Milo actually asked them. He rolled his eyes and groaned in response, but felt his posture relax slightly at the change of subject. “I’ve seen enough memes to know the only right answer is Bella’s dad. I mean like… look at him.” Rio pointed at the screen, even though he wasn’t actually on it at the time. His point stood. “What’s so bad about looking like that, huh? I think you’ve always sparkled to me.” Rio laughed to himself and shot an innocent smile in Milo’s direction, “You look much more alive than they do.” 

There was something so endearing about the way Rio celebrated his win, that for a few seconds following Milo found himself entirely speechless, overwhelmed by the affection he felt for his friend. “Maybe you are God.” He teased, barely putting any consideration into the joke, knowing Orion would appreciate it regardless. “Maybe you’re going to get older and suddenly inherit your omnipotence. If you don’t know what to do with your powers, please come to me. I have some pretty great ideas, you know. Tequila in every water fountain would be a good place to start...” Laughing at the mention of Peter Parker, he wasn’t sure he had met anyone who hadn’t crushed on the character at some point in their life. Sexual orientation didn’t come into play in relation to Spider-Man. “Hey, don’t put yourself down like that. You’re every bit as great as Peter Parker. I’d choose you over him any fucking day.”  

Feeling a spark of satisfaction at the reaction to his questions, his eyes were shining with mischief. He was unapologetically proud of garnering such a response. “Okay, but is Bella’s dad hotter than Jacob, is that what you’re trying to tell me here?” If he had a heartbeat, he knew he would be blushing at the comment on sparkling. It was such a stupid thing to get flustered over, but he was rarely ever the recipient of compliments. He didn’t know how to accept them. “You know…” He shifted on the couch, readjusting the popcorn bowl. “That’s probably a good thing because if you try pushing me into the sunlight it isn’t going to end well. Let me sparkle in the dark, please and thank you.” Glancing back up at the screen, he wondered if the vampires in Twilight had reflections. Surely they must, how else would they look so flawlessly put together? “I do?” He asked curiously, pressing his fingertips to one of his cheeks as though he would be able to feel what Orion was talking about, the difference in complexion, the difference in demeanour. “I guess I don’t really know what I look like anymore… it’s weird only seeing myself on my phone screen, it isn’t like I can use any natural lighting either. The whole thing is just… really fucking weird.”  

“You’re getting way too deep for me.” Orion laughed, lowering his victory arms and pull his legs up until a fetal position instead. “I’d have to get old in the first place. Hunters don’t exactly have the same life expectancy as an average human.” Sure, that was mostly due to the dangerous nature of their lives. But Rio had already decided long ago that just turning away from his hunter heritage and trying to live a normal life wasn’t enough. He had to actively try to protect the supernatural. In a way, he might be cutting his life even shorter. He was siding with people that may want to kill by going against those that would protect him. He wasn’t going to be getting much love from either side, in some cases. “I’ll make sure to keep your suggestions in mind though. In case I ever meet them.” Not that he really believed in any of that. “Now I know you’re just being nice. Everybody would choose Peter Parker.” 

With a shrug, Rio tried to defend his statement, “I’ve been spoiled on some parts of this series. There’s a lot to be left desired about Jacob. Mr. Swan seems like a nice guy. I mean he’s older than what I would be comfortable dating, but honestly I’m just not comfortable dating.” Honesty was a virtue, or so they say. Rio spent so much of his life lying that when he finally met those he could tell the truth to it seemed to all erupt at once like a volcano. “Yeah. Suddenly the night hang outs make a lot more sense.” Rio considered what Milo talked about. It was so strange, the idea that he could no longer see himself. Something that was so trivial to most people that they don’t think twice about it as they pass by a mirror and check their hair. “Sure. I mean, I’m not like… I don’t know studying your features or anything but…” Not off to a great start, “You just look like… you. The movie seems to over exaggerate the pale features and stuff like that. I don’t think you look much different. Which is nice.” Jesus, his face felt like it was on fire. He thought he had moved past this by now? 

“Hm, I don’t think anybody has ever called me ‘deep’ before.” Milo admitted, doing nothing to hide how amused he was. “I kind of like it.” His smile fading rapidly at Orion’s second comment, he suddenly found himself eyeing his friend with an open, and unguarded concern. It was a strange thing to say so casually, especially when it was clearly not intended as a joke. He hadn’t considered the life expectancy of Hunters until this moment, and he wasn’t sure it was something he really wanted to dwell on. Orion was safe, because Orion wasn’t a Hunter, right? How could you be a Hunter when you weren’t actively hunting? He wasn’t stupid enough to believe it was that simple, but for now, he was happy to convince himself otherwise. “Please do.” He said, easily falling back into their banter. “I think Tequila on tap would make the world a much greater place to be.” Offering Rio a warm smile, he needed him to see how serious he was. “Rio,” he said, his voice slow, and sincere. “I promise I would choose you. I mean, fuck Peter Parker. Come on...” Peter had a lot to offer, sure. But in his own mind Orion also had powers, Orion was just as interesting, if not more interesting because unlike Peter, he had actively saved his life. Or… unlife? He still wasn’t sure how that terminology worked.  

His smile only growing when his friend proceeded to announce just how much he really knew about the Twilight series, he couldn’t bring himself to tease him for it. Not after the reminder of how grateful he was to be in his company. “Hey, you know what? Neither am I.” He admitted, quite possibly for the first time out loud. You only had to look at his history, at the ridiculous patterns of repeated behaviour for his commitment issues to become apparent. Even he knew he had them, he wasn’t about to deny it. His childhood had been too structured, too rigid. It had left him with a determination to be free. He still wasn’t entirely sure what his definition of ‘free’ was, especially now. But he did know it didn’t include dating. “Honestly, people are probably better off without having to deal with my bullshit anyway.” He absentmindedly took a handful of popcorn from the bowl, eating the pieces one by one before speaking again. “I was always more active at night anyway.” He shrugged off his new limitations. Life didn’t feel all too different in that aspect. The days had always been reserved for sleeping off hangovers and comedowns, the only thing he really missed was working. And Tower Comics usually had late shifts on offer, so hopefully he wouldn’t have to miss it for very long.  

Pausing for a moment, hand halfway back to the popcorn, he realised Orion was observing him, carefully taking him in. It made him feel strangely exposed, but not uncomfortable like he might have assumed. There was something about his friend that made him feel so at ease, he couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to. He could only hope the sentiment was shared between them. The relief he felt when he was assured he still looked like himself was unexpected, until the words escaped Rio he had been entirely convinced it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. There was something so grounding about realising his appearance hadn’t changed. It was only further validation of the fact that he was still Milo, regardless of what Dani believed. Regardless of what Hunters and Slayers were taught about his kind. A half smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t hide how vulnerable he felt, because he didn’t want to hide how vulnerable he felt. He wanted to be honest, Rio deserved that much from him. “Thank you.” He murmured, his voice barely louder than a whisper. It didn’t take very long for him to push his vulnerability to the side though, because it became all too easy to make a joke as the blood rushed to Rio’s face. He believed Rio when he said he was over his crush, but he was always going to enjoy watching him blush. “You know, blushing in front of a vampire kind of makes you look like a snack.” He grinned, hoping his play on words would be obvious, and Rio would realise he was paying him a compliment.  

“Do you want me to repeat it again so you can hear it more?” Orion laughed, resting his chin on his knees and shifting his tone to an only partially faked form of admiration, “Wow, Milo. You’re just soooo deep. I’ve never met anyone as intellectual as you.” Rio grinned after finishing, leaning back against the arm of the chair, “Hope that helped.” Despite the joking nature of the conversation, Milo seemed all too sincere when doubling down that Rio was better than Peter Parker. As absurd as that sounded, Rio couldn’t help but be a bit flattered. More than that though, he felt embarrassed by the compliment. One that he didn’t exactly know how to reply to. He was always terrible at accepting compliments. Instead, he switched guys. “Right. Well you should be careful who you promise stuff to. It’s a whole fae thing, I’ll explain later. But just be mindful of words like that to people.” Rio had learned the hard way just how dangerous a promise could be in the wrong hands. “But uh… thanks.” 

Rio didn’t know how to respond to Milo. Rio wasn’t good at relationships, though maybe for different reasons than Milo. He didn’t know how to tell Milo that he didn’t seem like a hassle at all without it sounding like Rio was trying to date him. He shrugged the question off instead, choosing instead to show minor interest in the movie again until Milo mentioned being more active at night. “Yeah, I guess I sort of am too. I get the most done at night.” Less distractions to worry about, he figured. 

Having his red face pointed out to him probably made Rio blush even harder. At the very least, it made his cheeks light on fire. “A joke about eating me? That’s just in poor taste.” Rio couldn’t even pretend to be serious, not with his giggling and the smile that wouldn’t leave his face. If compliments made him so awkward, how come he also couldn’t stop grinning? “Most people think I’m one missed meal away from snapping in half. This town thinks I’m like a saltine cracker or something. Just waiting to be stepped on and crumble.” Was that how Rio avoided dealing with the possibility that the vampire had just called him cute? Definitely. 

“Obviously.” Milo countered quickly, tilting his chin in an attempt to look proud, and smug, as Orion elaborated on his intelligence. “Thank you, thank you.” He teased. “I don’t try at all, you know? It just comes to me naturally.” Quickly dissolving into laughter, he caught his friends eye, joining him in sinking back down into the cushions. “Oh, it did.” He assured Rio. “I appreciate the confidence boost.” A frown creasing his brow as he listened curiously to the warning, he hadn’t forgotten their unwritten agreement to put off the difficult conversations, to keep things light-hearted, and fun, and deal with the real world at another time. But he had a burning desire to know more, to understand. He felt as though he had been living in the dark, metaphorically, of course, for far too long now. Orion had become his light. “Okay, how about swearing? If I swear to choose you over Peter Parker, is that going to put me in danger?” He asked, genuinely wanting to know. “Hm, you don’t need to thank me, you dork. Thank Parker for being lamer than you are.” He nudged him with his shoulder, encouraging him to smile. “Who knew that was possible, huh?”  

Dropping his head back against the cushions behind him, he turned his attention to the film as Orion insisted he was also a night owl. He kind of figured, given how they had reconnected, but it was a nice detail, one he was very happy to know. With every day that passed he could feel them trusting each other more, getting closer, and more comfortable with being who they were. What they were. He used to have that with Dani… not so much now. And he was so, so grateful he wasn’t alone. Laughing again, even harder this time, he couldn’t help himself. The situation was so ridiculous, so beyond funny that he had to laugh. If he didn’t laugh he would cry, or go insane, whichever came first. “Oh really?” He demanded, his eyes shining as he looked back at his friend. “You started it with the whole pointing out my lungs don’t work for shit, so… do you know how rude it is to tell someone they’re dead? How do you think Edward would feel?” Humming quietly, making his amusement abundantly clear, he chewed on another piece of popcorn. “Yeah, well, the joke’s on them because Saltine Crackers taste fucking great. Hey look,” he feigned surprise, wondering if he could elicit another blush. “Another joke about eating you.”  

Orion had to appreciate Milo’s commitment to this Peter Parker debate. He wasn’t Rio’s favorite character by any means, but he was one of the most popular characters in probably all of comics. Being compared to and even rated above him was a surprisingly good feeling. “Swearing is tricky too. Though I guess not for a statement like that.” Unless there were any real Peter Parker’s in the world whose life came in danger soon. “It’s best to avoid any potentially binding statements like that. Just to be safe.” Rio needed to take his own advice. It was pathetic how easily he fell into Lydia’s grasp when he had grown up with two wardens constantly warning him of the dangers of fae. “Well I’m going to make sure my headstone reads that I was less lame than Peter Parker. Probably my biggest accomplishment in life.” 

It was so nice not sitting on the couch by himself like he normally did every night. Even if they were watching a movie that Rio didn’t particularly care for. Things could be a lot worse. Right now with Milo things seemed pretty okay. Good even. “That’s old news now, you can’t use that against me!” It didn’t matter that it was barely a week old, Rio just wanted the spotlight off of him again. “I’d like to think that he would have a sense of humor about it.” He paused, glancing at the screen and trying to think of more than once in the entire movie so far that he had actually smiled, “Actually, never mind. Point taken.” Oh god. Did Milo just making another joke about eating Rio? Far past the vampire reference, this made Rio heat up even further. He dug his forehead into his raised knees and curled up into a ball so Milo couldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing his face. “No fair. You’re doing this on purpose!” Rio yelled, the sound slightly muffled from pressing against his jeans. 

“Hm, okay.” Milo agreed, nodding as he took in what Orion was telling him. Until the real conversations, until they could sit down and talk about everything he didn’t know, he was going to hold onto the snippets of information he was given. He was smart enough to understand if Rio was telling him now, on their supposed night off from the world of the supernatural, then it was important. “No binding statements, got it. I stand by what I said though.” He added, grinning at his friend. “Only slightly less lame, but, you know... it’s enough.” He didn’t want to imagine any gravestone for Rio, the idea of mortality versus immortality was something he had strictly refused to let himself think about, but he had to admit the thought of the tagline was amusing. “You’re not going to top that, so you may as well give up now.” He teased, catching Rio’s eye and feeling an undeniable rush of affection. He needed this, a reminder that all hope wasn’t lost. There were things, and people, worth living for.  

Laughing at the response to the previous joke being dragged back to the present, he shook his head, allowing himself to focus on the now. He got lost in his own head far too often, and he didn’t want to miss a second of this night with Orion. “Nope, that so isn’t how it works.” He insisted. “I think you’ll find I can, and I will.” Laughing again as they both turned to watch Edward on screen, the vampire’s mouth a thin, straight line, his body filled with obvious tension, he couldn’t remember laughing this hard since his death. He couldn’t remember feeling so normal. Who knew Twilight was going to be his saviour? Only tearing his gaze away from the screen to watch Rio hide his face, he playfully reached out to tug at his arms. “Doing what on purpose?” He asked, his innocence very obviously disingenuous. “Doing what? I don’t understand, Rio. My mind is pure, and innocent, and virtuous. I’m only trying to compliment you.”  

“I’ll take what I can get. Slightly less lame is just fine.” Orion laughed, revelling in this moment. Where all that seemed to matter was Milo, Peter Parker and the sounds of twilight distant in the background. It was a good moment. “Clearly I’ve peaked in life. No reason to go on from here.” It had been so, so long since he had been able to laugh like that. It almost made him sad, thinking about how lonely he had felt lately. But he pushed aside that butterfly in his stomach. Good vibes only tonight. 

Rio wasn’t going to budge as Milo pulled at his arms, refusing to give him a win on this. A small bit of light shone through as his leg shifted and he peaked up to meet Milo’s eye, “I don’t believe you.” Rio pouted, readjusting to shut his leg again. “I don’t think you’re pure, innocent or virtuous.” Eventually, Rio had to end the facade and lifted his head back up. He feigned annoyance, narrowing his eyes at his guest and crossing his arms. “You know if you had ‘complimented me’ like that like a year ago I probably would have melted to the floor right?” He used his fingers to make air quotes. They both knew that was true. Until Rio met Winston and started dating them, Milo was one of the small list of pretty guys that Rio could barely form words around. Another being Ricky and Adam. Thankfully, that had passed. Or Rio sure hoped that it had. The redness in his face seemed to be arguing against that. “Don’t you have a movie to watch? Notes to take? Like about baseball and spider monkeys?”  

“Good.” Milo teased. “I would hate for you to be disappointed.” Laughing at Orion’s comment, he gestured to where they were sitting. “I mean, you’re sitting on a couch watching Twilight with a vampire. You’ve definitely peaked.” Picking up a piece of popcorn and throwing it lazily at his friend, he rolled his eyes, splitting his attention between their conversation and the movie. “That doesn’t mean you get to tap out though, asshole, so you can quit with no reason to go on. When I say give up I mean spend your life getting high, and eating pizza. Because we both know those are two excellent motivators for staying alive.” His laughter only coming more easily to him as Rio refused to budge, he eventually let go of his arms, allowing him re-emerge from the darkness in his own time.  

“Excuse me, I am all three of those things.” He countered, pretending to be offended by the apparent lack of faith. “But I guess I can forgive you, I’m a complicated person, so difficult to understand.” He was being overly dramatic for the sake of it, but wasn’t that what was so great about this night? They could be young, and dumb, and make stupid jokes. They could shut away the outside world and pretend the only thing that mattered were their ridiculous attempts at humour, and the emotionless, super hot vampires on the television screen. “Yeah, I know, I’m sad I didn’t realise at the time.” He grinned mischievously. “Although maybe that would have driven you away and then where would you have bought your comics from?” Shoving Rio gently when he told him he should be taking notes, the popcorn bowl spilled over, but he paid no attention to the scattered pieces. He would clean them up when necessary, but the whole point of right now was being free, living in the moment. “Yeah? Maybe we should try out for the same team. You’re every bit as weird as I am, you know? With your X-Men Hunter mutation bullshit. We’re in this together now.” He did nothing to hide how much the closing statement meant to him, allowing the warmth of his words to remind him he was cared for, and protected. They both were. 

“That’s what you call peaking, huh?” Orion laughed sarcastically, “I’d love to say I have higher standards. Clearly that’s not true.” And it wasn’t. His two best friends now were a werewolf and a vampire. It was like something out of a dream. Or maybe one of his parent’s nightmares. The majority of his friend group was supernaturally inclined in some way. Whether that be spellcasters or one of the supernatural beings his parents tried and failed to raise him to despise. Rio plucked the piece of popcorn from the couch that Milo so rudely launched at him and popped it in his mouth. “I don’t smoke though, so that’s already one reason eliminated. I do love pizza though.” Rio glanced up at the ceiling to consider that prospect. Pizza did sound pretty appealing. Actually, pizza sounded good right now. “Hmm, maybe we should order a pizza.” 

“Not right now, you aren’t.” Rio refused to give him anything while he teased him for the crush Rio had before the two were legitimate friends. It felt like a lifetime ago admittedly, though in reality it had probably been less than a year. Rio had a habit of developing feelings like that for just about every pretty guy that spoke nice words to him. At least until Rio moved in with Ricky and Winston and Rio practically fell in love with Winston instead. Rio hadn’t felt anything quite like that since Winston left town. “Don’t be. I wouldn’t have known how to date back then even if I had the opportunity.” He barely figured out how to date Winston, and that had been an entire saga on its own, “And don’t smile at me like that!” Though he detested the idea of being compared to a hunter, he understood Milo’s sentiment and at least appreciated that he veiled it with comic book references, “I’m only going to take that as a compliment because you compared me to the X-Men. But absolutely not. No sports for me.” 

“I’m offended by the implication of you settling for my company.” Milo teased. “But I’ll choose to let that slide because I’m comfortable and I don’t want to waste my energy on a dramatic exit.” Laughing quietly when Rio ate the popcorn he had dropped, he carefully contemplated the suggestion of pizza. It was another food he hadn’t tried since becoming a vampire. If his experiences with eating and drinking were anything to go on, it would be nowhere near as enjoyable as it used to be. But wasn’t that what you were supposed to do? You ate popcorn until you were genuinely hungry, and then you decided to order takeout. The familiarity of the routine was too strong for him to say no. “Want to order after Twilight?” He asked, glancing back towards the screen. They had to be reaching the middle of the film, they might even be two thirds of the way through. “Heads up, though. If you put garlic on it, then you’re going to end up on the menu.” 

His smile only growing as Orion continued to insist he wasn’t pure, innocent, or virtuous, he finally abandoned his claims. “Maybe not.” He admitted, content to give in now that he had pushed back just a little. He had to at least remain indignant if he was going to accept defeat. Forgetting the makeshift disagreement, he settled further down into the cushions, pulling his legs up beneath him, listening to his friend explain he wouldn’t have known how to date. It was hardly surprising, given what he had come to know about Orion’s quiet, and gentle nature. But if he was being honest, he hadn’t either. Hell, he still didn’t know how to date. They had met just under a year ago, but it was clear a lot had changed for both of them over such a short period of time. “Screw you, I’m allowed to smile at you!” He countered, his tone petulant, but filled with affection. “And yeah, I knew the X-Men talk would do it, you’re very predictable, you know?” 

“Well I’m offended by your attacks on me tonight. And for using my old crush against me to tease me. Both are very rude.” Orion hummed matter-of-factly, “So we can both be offended together. But only one of us gets the dramatic exit at the end.” He didn’t get many relationships like this. Teasing and comfort didn’t come naturally to him. It was hard to find his groove in a conversation when he had to spend so much of it planning ahead and second guessing every single word both before and after it came out of his mouth. Normally, he spent just as much time stumbling through a sentence as he did actually speaking. It usually took a lot of time and a lot of effort and patience on the other parties side to crack through some of that anxiety. Even then, he had only really achieved that sense of ease with a few people. Ariana, Blanche, Winston and Skylar were the first that came to mind. Now Milo too. It was comforting knowing that there were at least some people in town he could be his unfiltered self around. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” Rio shook his head passionately, the idea of pizza far too good to pass up. “Oh ha ha. Very funny. No garlic crust for us apparently.” 

A yawn escaped Rio, and he stretched before readjusting on the couch to lay on his bed across it. He kept his knees bent and his head propped on the arm so he could still look over at Milo. “But I like you anyways” Rio reassured the vampire and gave him a thumbs up from his new position on the couch. “You’re allowed to smile at me. Just not like that.” Rio was still joking, but it had definitely been different than the other grins the two had exchanged. Rio didn’t have the energy to try to discern why it felt so different. Besides, he didn’t want to ruin the mood. He kept shifting his view between the movie and Milo. “Being predictable is exactly the vibe I’m going for. Nonthreatening, predictable, totally normal non-hunter Rio.” 

“This is your house, moron, so obviously I get the dramatic exit.” Milo pointed out, very pleased they were in something together, even if the comment had been trivial, and light-hearted. It felt good to be side by side with Orion. He knew, to a certain extent, they really were in this together. In everything together. His friendship with Rio was quickly becoming his main source of support, and he couldn’t imagine it any other way. “You don’t need to tell me, I know I’m hilarious.” He added, watching as his friend stretched lazily, curling up on the sofa in a way that stupidly made him want to find a blanket, fetch him a hot chocolate, and make sure he was comfortable. He looked so innocent, it would be impossible to know all of the terrible things he had seen in his life. The struggles he had to face on a daily basis. Turning his attention back to the film, he couldn’t say anything particularly interesting had happened, but he had to admit he had thoroughly enjoyed the viewing experience. Despite not knowing what like that meant, he hummed quietly in response. “Sure, whatever.” A quiet laugh managed to escape him as he made a start on what was left of the popcorn. “I don’t know about labels, but whoever you are, I like you very much. I appreciate your vibes, you know.” He was only half teasing, needing Rio to know he genuinely enjoyed his company, that moments like these meant more to him than he could ever possibly say.  

Keeping his gaze fixed on the screen, he didn’t want to embarrass Orion further, even if he was desperate to see his reaction to the admission, so he fell back into a comfortable silence, patiently allowing the end of the story play out. Simultaneously, it felt as though it was over in minutes, and took hours to finally draw to a close, but as the credits began to roll, accompanied by a tacky love song he embarrassingly recognised, he turned back to Orion, ready to ask him whether he still wanted pizza. It didn’t take him long to realise his friend definitely wasn’t hungry, though, and he stared, almost in shock, as Orion slept soundly on the cushions beside him. It wasn’t as though he was surprised he was tired, or surprised he had been lulled to sleep by what he could only assume was a vampire satire. It was the fact that he had fallen asleep next to him. Next to a vampire. Dani had made it perfectly clear he couldn’t be trusted, that nobody should be left alone with him. And although he knew Orion didn’t agree with her, being alone with somebody fully conscious was very different to being alone with them and unaware. Being alone with them and vulnerable. Biting down on his bottom lip, repressing a smile, he shrugged off his hoodie without jostling the couch, carefully draping it over Orion’s form. He could try and find a blanket, but wandering his house without his permission felt too much like a violation, so hopefully the item of clothing would suffice. He didn’t need to sleep, he didn’t need to rest in the same way Orion did, but as he settled back down again, unable to tear his gaze away, he realised he was in a position to protect. To care for somebody he was fairly certain wasn’t used to being cared for. “Night, Rio… I’ll be here when you wake up.”  

[renarinkholin]

Let’s Talk About “The Young Wolf”

So the Destiny fandom as a whole has really latched on to “The Young Wolf” when referring to the player character Guardian, and this is a little strange to me. Not that people like the title (I don’t care for it much, but that’s a difference of taste thing) but that the fandom treats it as The One True Title/Name for our Guardians, as declared by lore. 

I wrote up a meta response to a post about a week ago, and just used “our Guardian” throughout, then mentioned in the tags that I don’t care to use “The Young Wolf” because I don’t really like it. I got a response that basically said, “I agree with your meta but people use The Young Wolf as their title because it’s canon and using ‘the Guardian’ is confusing and terrible.”

But is it really canon that this title is the main title amongst the many, many titles and accomplishments our Guardians have picked up? I decided to do some searching and my conclusion: It really isn’t.

Lore Check

NPCs and lore call our Guardian “Young Wolf” only 17 times in Ishtar Collective, which searches through lore books, dialogue transcripts, item descriptions, etc throughout Destiny and Destiny 2. The use of this title happens in three different cases: 1) used in the context of the Iron Lords/by Saladin directly, 2) used in a list of titles and accomplishments, as one of many, 3) used by non-Iron Lord characters in a general sense.

Saladin and the Iron Lords The first usage accounts for the majority of the title’s appearances, 10 of them total. Of these, 7 are said by Saladin, who gave our Guardians this nickname, 2 are by Tyra Karn (one of which she uses “A Young Wolf of the Iron Lords”) and 1 is when Shaxx calls you “Saladin’s Young Wolf” in the Homecoming opening mission of D2. I’m not going to screenshot all of these, but feel free to look them up if you want.

One Title Amongst Many The second usage, when it appears amongst many other titles, happens 4 times across the games: two times in Calus’ prophecy fanfic about us, once in Saint-14’s eulogy in the Corridors of Time, and once in Phylaks’ dialogue during her Empire Hunt.

Other Cases There are only 3 times where NPCs use “The Young Wolf” as a general title to refer to our Guardians. Vyhar calls us this in that his Ghost’s Fragment, Osiris calls us this in the Season of the Hunt’s transmission from him, and Saint-14 calls us this once while talking to Ikora.

Conclusions

The fact that the overwhelming majority of times we hear someone in-game or in-lore call our Guardians “The Young Wolf” it’s either Saladin using his personal nickname for us, someone referring to our status among the Iron Lords, or someone listing off a bunch of our titles and accomplishments. The fact that there’s only 3 times ever that it has been used in a general context, and two of them showed up this season means that I really can’t take at face value the notion that the “Young Wolf” is our main, general title. If the fandom wanted to just pick a title out of a hat at random amongst the many we’ve picked up, sure, it works. It is a title our Guardians have. It’s nowhere close to being the title for our Guardians.

In the grand scheme of things? It’s a pretty minor title. In fact, it’s mostly one character’s nickname for us. What’s the accomplishment here: “played Rise of Iron’s story campaign”? That’s the accomplishment the fandom has decided to define our player characters by? It’s baffling to me. 

After all, Emperor Calus decided to call us the Shadow of Earth, and that shows up in lore far more times numerically than “the Young Wolf.” Drifter calls my Warlock “Snitch” every time she plays Gambit because she didn’t side with him. I don’t see why either of those would be any more valid as a general title in the same way Saladin’s nickname, “Young Wolf” has become.

There’s better general titles out there. A whole bunch of characters refer to our character as “The Hero of the Red War,” including Asher, Saint-14, the Drifter, the Spider, Aunor, even a random Titan named Joxer. In lore, that seems to be more of the go-to “general” title for our Guardian in D2. And that makes sense, if we’re talking about our Guardian in the context of Destiny 2, it would make more sense to use their title that refers to them completing the vanilla campaign, not a random D1 expansion that, lore-wise, is pretty forgettable.

There’s a whole handful of titles we’ve got as a result of killing Oryx: Kingslayer, Destroyer of Oryx, Slayer of Oryx. In terms of importance, that’s a way bigger deal than finding and containing SIVA. Or “Crota’s End” for killing Crota. 

All in all, I think if we’re being honest, the devs try pretty hard to avoid giving our player characters any kind of name or main title in-universe. It’s tricky to write dialogue that way, but they do a pretty good job of it. Most of the time people refer to us, we’re just “the Guardian.” Or vendors will refer to you by your class as a title. Or a specific character will choose to give us a nickname and that specific character calls us that, which is what happened with Saladin. The few times where the writers are narratively written into a corner and they need someone to use a general title for us? They just pick one at random, it seems.

Anyway, this is a long post that probably will not really have an impact on anything. And in all honesty, I’m not trying to tell people that they should stop referring to the Guardian generally as “The Young Wolf” or that it’s bad or something. I just find it weird that this one got stuck in the fandom’s brain like this, and it’s one that you won’t see me personally using in a general sense because I find it to be kind of lame and I don’t think Rise of Iron was all that narratively important. I don’t really care about Saladin and I don’t see why I should pretend like his nickname is my Guardian’s general name in fandom spaces.

When I write meta, you’re going to see me using “our Guardian” or “the Guardian,” because that’s the general name the game gives. I don’t think of my Guardians as “the Young Wolf” any more than I consistently think about them as “Crota’s End” or “Shadow of Earth” or any of the other multitudinous titles we’ve accumulated over the years. They’ve done lots of things and they’re all of those titles technically. They’re just my Guardians though. 

People can refer to their Guardians however they want, and I’m sure “the Young Wolf” is sticky enough at this point that people are probably just going to keep using it in the general sense. But I take issue with assertions that it’s the game’s canon main title for us, or that it’s the objectively correct thing to call our Guardians. It’s not, it’s a minor title among many, and I personally am not interested in doing it. 

PS: If you read this whole post, you deserve a bowl of spicy ramen, on me! Have a coupon for it.

[bwprowl]

Me vs. The Mitchells vs. The Machines

The Mitchells vs. The Machines is a really cool movie. Seriously! It’s the Spider-Verse crew continuing to be at the top of their game, doing their damnedest to elevate and evolve 3D film animation in a way apart from the ongoing Disneyfied edge-sanding seen elsewhere. Several sequences, especially the final fight scene at the end, are absolutely jaw-dropping. A lot of the writing of the movie is also genuinely clever, with some cool tricks of weaving in Chekov’s Guns that you don’t even realize WERE Chekov’s Guns until they’re deployed, but then make perfect sense. And I also just have to say there’s something oddly heartening about a movie that does a lot to target Millenials in terms of nostalgia, but not so much via our shows and movies and music the way other project might go about, but specifically by tapping the internet meme culture of the early-00’s that’s so media-unique to that emergent generation. There’s some genuine heart visible in so many of the levels of how this thing was made that I can understand its touting as an instant classic and the waves of praise and popularity that have followed its release.

Unfortunately, I can’t so unilaterally praise this movie, mostly because I can NOT stop thinking about how poorly-implemented and mis-framed its central familial conflict is.

Oh yeah spoilers for this movie I guess

So I’ll need to detour at first and talk about A Goofy Movie, which isn’t much of an issue for me since I fucking love A Goofy Movie. And watching The Mitchells vs. The Machines my initial takeaway was a pleasant observation that someone had basically grafted A Goofy Movie to The World’s End, which could have made for an extremely fun time for me. A Goofy Movie, so it goes, centers on the conflict between a father and child trying to understand each other, spurred on by the father conscripting the child into an impromptu road-trip which the child initially resents but eventually leans into as a vehicle for understanding as the family members open up to each other and end with a greater appreciation for their familial bond as well as healthier, more open lines of communication. There are comical misunderstandings, dramatic misunderstandings, and escalating Wacky Adventures that keep the trip feeling suitably cinematic in scope. And as The Mitchells vs. The Machines continued on, I kept finding myself rounding back to that comparison and asking “Why am I not getting into this as much as I do A Goofy Movie?”

It turns out to be a point of motivation, actually. In A Goofy Movie, Goofy dragooning Max into the cross-country fishing trip is immediately borne out of his (however misinformed) desire to keep his son from going down a wrong, potentially delinquent or criminal path. Goofy has concerns about the lessened connection and communication with Max, sure, but that’s a symptom of his inability to communicate his actual worries about Max’s behavior to him, not the sum total of the problem he feels needs fixing. Goofy is under the impression there are genuine problems Max is going through, and while he’s got the actual particulars wrong, he’s not really that far off, since Max still IS the kind of kid to elaborately hijack a school function or make up extravagant lies to get attention from the girl he likes rather than just talking to her and asking her out like a normal human-dog-person. Goofy’s objective is firmly centered on helping Max for Max’s sake, and he’s only taking up a few weeks out of Max’s summer and causing him to miss a single party in order to do it.

I lay all that out so you can try to understand my headspace coming at critiquing The Mitchells vs. The Machines and negatively viewing its own take on a plot concept I ostensibly love by default. The problem, as said, is one of motivation. In The Mitchells, Rick’s dissatisfaction with his relationship with his daughter Katie is purely that: Dissatisfaction with their relationship. Katie herself is, by all accounts, doing spectacularly. She’s got a healthy relationship with friends and other family members, she’s gotten accepted into a prestigious film school, and her YouTube account seems to pull pretty keen numbers (With all the tech jokes in this movie it’s a wonder there’s never a riff on her shilling NordVPN or Raid Shadow Legends). The conflict between father and daughter is purely a case of them growing apart in her teen years demonstrably because Rick has no understanding of her current passions and makes no effort to do so, which leads to him having consistently questioned and doubted her ability to succeed in her field. The film frames the impromptu road-trip as his attempt to ‘fix’ the issues between them, but the only thing broken by the presentation of the story is Rick’s approach to parenting in the first place. He could easily have made Katie warm to him on the way out by replacing or paying for the laptop he broke and throwing her a subscription to her YouTube channel, but then the movie would be shorter and we wouldn’t be able to pretend the conflict was anything other than his own pursuit of self-centered actualization.

That’s the other issue, of course, the way The Mitchells vs. The Machines consistently rounds back to the point that Katie is somehow shouldering half the responsibility for the father/daughter communication breakdown. But as stated above, it really has hardly anything to do with her. Katie’s succeeding on her own terms, and the only outreach she would theoretically need to do to her dad would be to make HIM feel better, something he could do himself if he’d only actually pay attention to the cool videos she keeps trying to show him and not constantly deciding that HE knows that SHE will fail. It’s a fundamentally one-sided conflict from what we’re shown, and yet the other members of the Mitchell family continuously treat Katie like she needs to accommodate her father’s personal whims and not hurt his feelings despite the fact that he’s the one who went behind her back and canceled her flight, even forcing her to miss her first week of college (!) simply because he felt sorry for himself that they didn’t like the same things anymore. Again, Katie’s doing great, it’s Rick that decides to make his problem the entire family’s problem, and while I’m going to hesitate to refer to this behavior as out-and-out abusive, it is still absurdly selfish and pointedly poor parenting. 

The movie seems to nominally strive for balance in the conflict, not making it entirely Katie’s job to fix her dad’s hurt feelings, and indeed having a whole sequence where he realizes what a Big Jerk he’s been about not trying to understand or support her passions, and resolving to actually Make An Effort moving forward. The problem is that this is still framed as one half of the equation, as Katie supposedly gets to understand where her dad is coming from, which...makes her feel better about all the times he said she would fail and so she should rely on and appreciate him more? And the reason that’s a fundamental issue is annoying, because it means we have to talk about Rick’s Stupid Fucking Cabin.

Look, I hate doing this. I personally try very hard to keep in the mindset that stories are stories and things happen in them because they are stories. I am loathe to attempt picking apart the points of particular plot points, but the problem is that this Stupid Fucking Cabin is positioned as the heart of the humanity of the entire movie, yet it hinges on a sequence of decisions that no actual human being would ever come by. First off, do you have any idea how long it takes to BUILD a home like that, let alone as one guy apparently doing it himself? Rick spent the better part of his twenties building this big Fucking Stupid Cabin to fulfill his lifelong dream of ‘Living in the woods’, only for his wife to get pregnant once it was finished, leading to him just dropping like that? Was there no planning in this family? Was Katie an accident that Rick immediately was this endeared to? I mean, he totally seems like a pro-lifer. But then why do they need to sell the Stupid Fucking Cabin on account of a kid coming along? How were Rick and Linda planning on living out their lives there if not with resources that could support them as well as a kid or two? Rick could have just raised his kids in the woods in his Stupid Fucking Cabin and they would have stood a better chance at turning out like little duplicates of himself and his own interests like he clearly wanted. That’s to say nothing of this sequence of events being framed as a ‘failure’, despite that fact that Rick handily succeeded at what he set out to do, only to turn around and abandon the thing he succeeded at himself on seemingly the same sort of impulsive whim that leads to him dragging his whole family on a road trip because he doesn’t understand YouTube. There are motivating factors to these decisions he made that could inform the whole context of this supposedly tragic backstory, but we aren’t privy to anything resembling them, and the result is a plot point that seemingly only exists to make Katie (and the audience) feel bad for Rick in the third act of the movie.

The real answer is the ultimate assertion of this thing by the finale, that Katie should be ‘grateful’ to Rick for his ‘sacrifice’ of his dream that supposedly allowed her to be in the place she is now. Except Katie had no part in Rick’s bizarre impulsive choice to build a Stupid Fucking Cabin then sell it as soon as a kid popped out so he, I guess, could feel some sense of important familial contribution. That’s to say nothing of the point about parental figures who make grand, sweeping gestures nominally for the good of their kids, but are effectively and emotionally unavailable in the day-to-day engagements of their lives. Because unlike Goofy in A Goofy Movie, Rick isn’t actually doing what he’s doing for Katie’s sake. Her motivation for most of the movie is to move away from home and go to college, a completely normal-ass thing that children do. Any of Rick’s outreach or efforts to ‘fix’ relationships and situations are purely for the sake of his own hurt feelings, and the way Katie’s mother and brother consistently push her into going along with them only highlights the overt way this whole family’s problems are hung up on the insecurities of of this single stubborn jerk. But then, that’s my other major misgiving with The Mitchells vs. The Machines: Its expected exaltation of the default biological family as some hallowed unit for which it is a tragedy to fall into any degree of dysfunction. This is with pointed dismissal towards the idea of Found Family, seen as a distraction, an obstacle to Katie realizing who her TRUE people are, and coming around to a sense of fulfillment because she managed to massage her dad’s ego for long enough that he stopped being totally dismissive of the things that brought her joy. You see, Found Families are fun, but they aren’t REAL or SPECIAL because they already accept and appreciate you for who you are, unlike these people you’re biologically obligated to share living space with for 18+ years whom you have to forge bonds with through varying degrees of communication breakdowns and compromises in self-agency.

With all that in mind, it highlights some of the smaller issues in the movie’s setup as well. This is perhaps petty, but jeez was I annoyed with the film’s framing of The Mitchells as this ~craaaazy~ ~weeeeiiiird~ family which included such outlandish quirks as ‘Dad who doesn’t understand technology’ and ‘Young boy who really likes dinosaurs’. And the wishy-washy tone of the familial conflict is echoed in the ‘The Machines’ part of the plot, which mostly led to me sitting on edge throughout the whole film as I wondered how it was going to come down on the subject of those kids and their darn smartphones. It ultimately doesn’t go full anti-technology, which makes sense given how much of Katie’s character revolves around using the stuff, to say nothing of the predilections of the people who actually, uh, made this movie. But the most it can manage is a halfhearted “Maybe unregulated big tech bad?” which even then is undercut, mostly I assume because of the various big tech companies involved in producing and streaming this thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m overall glad it doesn’t go full "durr hburr technology is bad fire is scary and thomas edison was a witch", but a lack of any insight or ideas on that front means that the familial relationship element is the only conceptual element it really has to stand on, and I just spent over 1800 words breaking down why that fundamentally didn’t work!

It’s an aggravating situation, because lord did I want to love The Mitchells vs. The Machines. It’s gorgeous, it’s got some clever bits in the writing, and it can honestly sling a punchline like nobody’s business, there are some KILLER jokes in there. But it just became impossible all the way through the end for me to engage with the heart of the movie, its central connective conflict, on the terms it wanted me to. Now it’s admittedly possible that, perhaps like Rick Mitchell, that’s my problem. I’ve seen a lot of love for this movie from my peers, and it does make me question my own projections: I don’t want to get TOO personal on main, but I admit that it’s entirely possible that people who’ve enjoyed an actually functional fatherly relationship would better engage with the emotive connections this movie wants you to make. But even with that caveat, I was able to find my own way to resonate with the similar stakes of A Goofy Movie just thanks to the more effective way that one was framed, so if this one couldn’t hook me, maybe it was The Mitchells vs. The Machines’ fault after all.

[samwrights]

Spider’s Web

So for those of you who don’t have me on AO3, I have an Oikawa/OC/Iwa story up on there and I REALLY want to make it into a poly relationship, that’s just not the direction for that particular story. That being said, I’m most likely going to pull a lot of inspiration from there. However, if you have my AO3 account and are reading Proper Dose, please please please don’t spoil any of it for anyone else. Things that haven’t been posted on there (namely the OCs relationship to Oikawa) is going to be included here.

Enough rambling.

Edit: I am going to FIGHT the tumblr text post editor that WOULD NOT save every time I went back to format this.

Warnings: language and NSFW!

Nobody understood the dynamic, the gall, you had dating both Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tōru. That was okay, it wasn’t anybody else business but the three of your own.

It started out in your guys’ second year of high school. You had class with Iwa for the last two years and would eventually move onto the third together as well—many thought he was a shallow piece of shit, Oikawa included, when they learned that the Seijoh ace was dating the captain of the cheerleading team, let alone top of their class. Aoba Johsai knew you as nothing more than that.

Iwaizumi knows better.

He knows the long, hard hours you put into your sport; the literal blood, sweat, and tears. He knew the struggles you faced with home life and your parents thinking your “sport” was a complete waste of time, regardless of the fresh bruises and cuts you came home with every day, they made sure to tell you as such. And he knew you took everything out on yourself — the frustration of constantly trying to make your family happy while struggling to do so for yourself — never wanting to take refuge with another person, until he came along.

To him, it seemed almost natural to be with you—you were almost Oikawa’s female counterpart and that was a love he had long swallowed and repressed. The drive, the ambition, and the self-discipline, or lack thereof, was eerily similar, too similar for Iwaizumi’s comfort. At first, anyway.

You and Oikawa didn’t get along at first. His stand-offish attitude, especially to you being cheer captain, rubbed you the wrong way. He thought you were shallow, even more so than Iwaizumi after you two started dating, and the only thing you were going to do was break Iwaizumi’s heart and he wouldn’t stand for it. However, when his ACL got torn in second year, you were the first one at his side besides the ace.

“If you’re important to Iwa, you’re important to me too,” was all you responded with when he asked why you were waiting him for the ambulance. Iwaizumi had to, unfortunately, carry out the remainder of the tournament without the captain by his side.

And so, the spider’s web began to thread.

You and Iwaizumi were only dating for a year and some change before hitting a breaking point. For your safety, he had begged for you to quit your club after colliding with another girl on your team in your third year, that you had nearly dislocated your now insufferably swollen jaw. Despite the collision, the Aoba Johsai cheer team had made it to regionals after six long years of rivalry with Shiratorizawa, but the success didn’t matter to the volleyball ace. “You’re going to get hurt, [name]!”

“But I didn’t, and I’m not fucking quitting!” Despite the care and support Iwaizumi Hajime had always given you, the two of you were at odds as the two of you and Oikawa were walking back from your prefectural qualifier held at the Sendai City Gymnasium. Oddly enough, Oikawa of all people acted as the mediator that day.

“Iwa, what do you love about [name]?” He had asked his best friend.

“Her passion, mostly. But right now—“

“So if you force her to quit the one thing she’s passionate about, is she going to be the same person?” You could have cried that day. Shit, you did cry because never in a million years did you think Oikawa Tōru would be coming to your defense, especially not about this. But he understood, better than anyone, what it meant to be completely devoted to what you do and he would be damned if the boy he loved more than anyone would take away the one thing that you cared about the most. 

It didn’t make sense to anyone but Oikawa. However, he knew that if you lost the one thing that motivated you in life, you would no longer be the person that Iwaizumi loved, and that hurt the captain deeply. While Iwaizumi didn’t necessarily appreciate that Oikawa came to your defense, he understood the logic behind his reasoning. “I’m only saying this because I love you, but let her do her thing.” The captain added to his ace. Iwaizumi had no idea that he had meant it literally at the time.

Since that day, you and Oikawa became quite close. He understood a part of you that, despite the passion that Iwa had for volleyball as well, the ace just didn’t understand the dedication the both of you had. You both loved what your sport and what you did. You also both loved Iwaizumi Hajime and never had an intent to let him go.

“You know, Iwa may complain that you’re too much like me, but I think that’s why he likes you.” Oikawa had said one day when they two of you were out on a friend date. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you, considering that there were times you needed to get out and away from your parents and Iwaizumi just couldn’t be there. That was okay; he was his own person too.

“I don’t disagree with you, Oiks.” You were aware of how the volleyball captain felt for your boyfriend—you would be stupid not to notice. But it didn’t hinder your friendship with the man in the slightest; if anything, it intrigued you further. “Sometimes, I feel like he’s only with me because I’m like you.”

And so another ring to the spider’s web is added, as the couple slowly captures their unsuspecting prey.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you two?” Iwaizumi Hajime is pissed. It’s in the middle of the inter high preliminaries—just after Seijoh beat Karasuno. You’d gone up to congratulate the boys on their win, giving a long hug and peck on the cheek to the volleyball captain who has now become one of your best friends. It wasn’t hard, once Oikawa got over the qualities that you shared, the very same ones he hated in himself.

There were things about you that made the two of you different. For starters, you embraced freedom, something that Oikawa could never do. That freedom and liberation to be yourself so fully, so unabashedly, kind of made you a badass in his eyes, one almost equal to the object of his affections. Granted, not many other people at Aoba Johsai cared for this attitude of yours—it made you untouchable, unapproachable, like you somehow thought that you assumed yourself to be better than them. Whereas Oikawa was your opposite in that regard with everyone thinking much higher of him and yet he never felt that he was enough. In layman’s terms, Oikawa strives to reach the pinnacle, where as you sat at the top only to feel alone and isolated until Iwaizumi Hajime came along.

“Whaddya mean, Iwa?” Oikawa responds light-heartedly and the man in question knows that he’s playing around. Grinding his teeth against each other, the ace grabs the both of you before dragging you guys into the hall. He’s red with anger and you’re unsure if the capillaries in his eyes are going to burst from the pressure.

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” He repeats.

“Baby, nothing is going on—“

“You expect me to believe that when I see the way you two hold each other—“

“It’s because he can’t hold you, Haji.” Oikawa snaps his brown eyes towards your shorter frame, wondering when and why you would even consider betraying him right now, of all times. “I’m comforting him, Hajime. Win or not, he doesn’t get to be held and kissed by the person he loves, just the next best thing—his girlfriend.” The captain wants to kill you; wants to run and hide because he can’t take the intensity of the situation. It’s not exciting or thrilling like when he’s normally presented with a challenge—this is nerve wracking.

“What?” Is all the ace has to say. His olive green eyes are now locked on his best friend and the king is in checkmate. “I’ve been in love with you for years and after finally moving on you decide to say something to my girlfriend?” Oikawa wants to run. Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing he hates more than seeing Iwaizumi mad at him — genuinely, truly mad at him. It was the whole reason that Iwaizumi was the only person that could get through to him in the first place.

He becomes defensive, saying the only smart ass remark he can muster. “She’s not complaining, is she?” Wrong move, Oikawa.

“More importantly,” you interrupt before the two of them glare so hard at each other that the sexual tension overrides their rationality, “you both finally admitted to being in love with each other at some point in time.”

And then they’re quiet. Another thread in the web drops.

They lose to Karasuno and it is the end of their high school volleyball career. At this point, you aren’t sure what’s worse—the tragic end or the fact that you were granted permission to ride the bus home with them and the two of them are currently hiding their faces in your shoulders in the back row of the bus. The three of you are the last to get off after arriving at Seijoh and you stay for the meeting knowing that Iwaizumi was going to walk you home after. He didn’t need to announce it, you knew by the grip he had on your hand during the entire meeting.

The team parts ways, leaving you in the comfort of your boyfriend and your best friend. “We doing this?” You look at both of them, noticing the way they refuse to look at each other. In a sense, it makes your heart hurt because you’ve grown to love both of these boys so much. Iwaizumi, the boy who saw you for what you were underneath your prickly exterior. He knew you underneath fake smiles and even faker conversations. He knew you for you.

Then there was Oikawa. The boy that unknowingly saved you by saving yours and Iwaizumi’s relationship. The boy that, after months of misunderstanding you, knew how to make you bloom and grow into the person you were and wanted to continue being. The boy that wanted to see you flourish not only for Iwaizumi’s sake, but because the two of you helped each other grow in ways that others could not. He knew what you wanted to be, and he knew he wasn’t going to stop being a part of your life until you got there.

Saying nothing else, you grab both of their hands before taking them to a place that had become a home to the three of you. Caffe Veloce was your destination of choice this evening, figuring that talking about such sensitive subjects on school grounds wasn’t necessarily the best place to converse. It was far from foreign for you, to be holding the hands of them both. In Iwaizumi’s absence, Oikawa often held your hand when you went places together—mostly so that he could have the physical touch he often craved. Eventually, it just became a habit. 

Despite the chilly, October evening air, the three of you had opted to sit outside so that nobody could eavesdrop on the conversation. After all, walls tend to reflect sound whereas the open air allows the vibrations to fade into nothing. “So, who wants to start?” You ask, as if you asking about how their day had gone rather than to talk about the underlying tension that had been eating the three of you alive for the last two months.

“Start with what—“ Iwaizumi is uncomfortable. He feels his girlfriend and his best friend of many years both staring at him, feels the way his heart his pounding in his chest like it isn’t doing its job of providing blood to his body. The thrumming in his ears is deafening.

“I love you, dummy.” That was a first for you, to hear Oikawa call him a name that’s met with bitter distaste. It’s a first, but it is a sign of growth. For Oikawa Tōru, he has always placed his best friend on some sort of pedestal, always regarding the man to god-like status and listening to his direction like gospel. At the end of the day, Iwaizumi Hajime is but a simple man. A man that the captain has been in love with for as long as he can remember.

“You can’t do this to me,” the ace simpers weakly as his resolve crumbles with a fragility foreign to him, “you know that I’ve been dating [name] for the last year—“

“And I love her too, Iwa. I wouldn’t have been able to even say this to you without her.”

“Aw,” you coo to the captain, “I love you too, Oiks.”

“This is too fucking weird.” Iwaizumi spits out, folding his arms over his chest and turning away from you both. Oikawa pretends the words don’t hurt but it’s nearly impossible to ignore the shards of his glass heart dropping from his chest into his stomach.

“Haji, just hear me out,” you say cautiously, gingerly holding one of his hands in yours, “if anyone can make this work, it’s us.”

There was pattern in the web becomes more intricate, as another spider adds webs to the loom.

The three of you graduate—Aoba Johsai, class of 2012. It’s a beautiful ceremony, but your parents never came to watch you walk. Instead, you’re filled with love from Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s family, neither of them knows your guys’ little secret. They knew you existed, Haji’s family knew you two were together and Oikawa’s knew the two of you were close friends, but they never even had the thought the complex and complicated web of your relationship existed.

After rigorous debate, the three of you settled on attending university and getting an apartment together. It’s strange, at first, like the three of you are truly seeing each for the first time in your lives. In a sense, you are, as the three of you share many firsts together. Like the first time you all sleep in your collective king size bed—the boys had given you the short lived honor of taking the space between them. After all, you were the one that brought this all together.

The first fight was probably the worst memory, yet one of the best at the same time. While fighting was normal between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, as their childhood anctics had yet to be put to rest, there was now an intricate level of intimacy that had broken free of the former and every insult hurled by the latter had been a nail in the setter’s coffin. “Haji, you need to chill out. You’re hurting Tōru’s feelings,”

“You always take his fucking side, [name], and I’m so fucking tired of it. You were my girlfriend first when he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you so why are you choosing him over me?”

“Asshat, I’m not picking a side, I’m picking our relationship over anything. And our relationship includes you, me, and dumbass so for the love of fuck, please stop actually hurting his feelings because then we lose a part of our relationship!”

“Why did you have to ruin it by calling me ‘dumbass’, babe?” Oikawa whines, the edge he was feeling from Iwaizumi’s anger tampering off with the way you handled him. One thing that Oikawa Tōru loves about you was the way you knew just what to say when it came to Iwa. It was another major distinction between the two of you. Simmering down, the former ace clenches his teeth as he claws at his scalp with his jagged fingernails.

“I’m sorry guys.” He says quietly, knowing that you’re right. At the end of the day, the most important thing was this strange, twisted relationship he’d landed in. But this relationship had you and it had Oikawa, and that was all Iwaizumi ever wanted.

The spider’s web is almost completely threaded.

The best memory overall was the very first time the three of you made love together, and it had nothing to do with the fact that there were three of you. It was the fact that three of you were so consumed and in love with each other that not a single movement felt wrong or rushed—everyone finally belonged to each other. There was no doubt of who loved whom more, an insecurity that had long gnawed at the back of your mind, which prompted the aforementioned evening.

“You guys have each other—you always have. I’m just kind of...here,” you had told them once after the two of them had returned from a movie date alone. At the time, you were curled up on the couch watching corny teen romance movies after coming home from a long day at work with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s that you’d demolished easily in the two hours you were left to your own devices.

“Honey,” Iwaizumi plopped beside you, taking the empty cup from your hand and setting it on the coffee table before pulling you into his lap with ease with his arms encircling your waist. “We have each other because we have you. Don’t ever think that you aren’t important to us too.” His words are meant to be encouraging, you know that they are, but you swear you hear little voices in your mind telling you that you were the one not cut out for this lifestyle. Knowing he’s not getting through, Oikawa rests on the arm of the couch, one leg swaying as it doesn’t quite touch the ground while his hands grasp one of yours.

“Babe, we only went without you because you were at work. We missed you the whole time,” you can sense the contradictory sentence coming, “but when you’re busy, Iwa and I take the time to explore being together too. You had a whole extra year and half of dating him—there’s things that I don’t know about him as a boyfriend that I have to learn for myself too.” Judging by the silence, Iwaizumi is worried that Oikawa had said the wrong thing even though he’s still holding you. But he couldn’t have said the wrong thing because it’s entirely true and all three of you know that.

“I love you guys.” You tuck your head underneath Hajime’s chin, simultaneously squeezing Oikawa’s hand in comfort and in search of forgiveness for your almost bull-headed attitude.

“We love you too, princess.” The former ace adds softly, his jaw moving along the crown of your head as speaks.

“Why don’t we show you how much we love you?”

The three of you being together is a clarity you’d never experienced before—truly a feeling unlike any other. The way that Hajime is tentative and rough at the same time, making sure they every millimeter of your skin is bruised and bitten with purple affection, whereas Tōru seeks to bring you reassurance with encouraging whispers while caressing your breasts. Your back is to the former captain’s chest, allowing him to nibble on your bare shoulders while he holds you down as Iwaizumi has his face between your thighs.

Had it not been so intimate, you probably would have pushed to skip all the foreplay.

But Iwa has his face between your thighs with your legs dangling off his shoulders as he’s nipping and biting at the flesh on either side of him. Each bite makes you help from sensitivity, while Oikawa does his best to pinch and tease your nipples while filling your head with loving words. “We’re gonna take real good care you,” he croons sweetly as a whimper escapes your throat.

Iwaizumi gives a tentative lick to your folds, cautiously peeling them back like a flower, as if he had never done this with you. In some capacity, you suppose that was true. Carefully, his tongue swirls around your swelling clit, taking his sweet time to coax your reaction. “Haji!” Instinctively, you press your thighs together, nearly crushing his head but the man between you likes the pain. Oikawa brings a hand gingerly underneath your jaw before his fingers dig into your skin, pulling your attention away from Iwaizumi and onto him.

“I want to feel you.” And his lips are on yours as if it were the first time you had ever kissed. While he’s still holding your chin, his tongue is laving against your slightly chapped lips, almost as if to soothe the dryness, before he slips in. You aren’t sure what’s more distracting—the strange, intimate way that Oikawa Tōru is exploring your mouth with his tongue or the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime was mirroring the exact same treatment on your cunt. Their movements are slow and steady and you’re wondering just how they know that the other is moving this cautiously.

But slow and steady and cautious has never been Iwaizumi’s style in bed, no matter how much he tried to make the moment last. For just a second, he pulls away from your lower region swabbing his middle finger around his mouth and inserting it into you without warning before his tongue comes back to join the party. Were it not for Oikawa’s mouth covering your own at the moment, you’re sure that a string of profanities would be leaving your mouth with the way Hajime’s finger is pressing and reaching for the weak spots that his tongue cannot reach.

Oikawa’s freehand travels down from pinching your nipple to threading themselves into Iwaizumi’s hair, encouraging him to bring you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the evening. The ace didn’t need to be told twice. Rather than swatting off Oikawa’s hand, Iwaizumi blindly grabs his wrist with his own free hand, pulling the setter closer so as if to signal to him that he needs to be pulled harder. Adding another finger inside of you, Iwa sets a punishing pace, entirely turned on by the burning feeling in his scalp and the muted moans of yours that his best friend was covering up.

There’s almost no rhythm to his work, or so you believe. But Iwaizumi is a meticulous man, and he would be damned if he didn’t love a woman properly. His fingers are nearly fucking you open, alternating between scissoring you and pushing on that spongy bundle of tissue that makes you want to scream, all the while your clit is being rolled between his teeth with an occasional suckle, nearly sucking the oxygen straight from your lungs. You pull away from Tōru, eyes half shut as broken cries leave your chest while you try and regain your breath. “We love you, [name],” the setter mumbles along your skin, pulling even harder at his best friend’s scalp to tell him to finish you. Iwaizumi pulls away from your warmth, his chin drenched with saliva and your juices and Oikawa swears up and down he’s never seen the man more attractive than he was in that moment.

The ace pulls his fingers from inside you before the flats of three of his fingers are wildly, furiously, rubbing at your sensitive clit because all he wants right now is to hear you scream. But you live in an apartment and have neighbors and as much as they both want to hear you beg and cry for them, Oikawa shoves three fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. “Don’t ever think for a second that we don’t love you,” Iwaizumi grits out between his grinding teeth, his hand moving at breakneck speeds knowing you’re so goddamn close.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you’re chanting out around Oikawa’s fingers while his free hand migrated to languidly stroke the man bringing you to your end. That caught his attention real quick, as Iwaizumi crashed his lips onto Tōru’s. It was rough and loving at the same time, much like the ace himself. Your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami causing you to bite down on the captain’s fingers. Whiny whimpers escape through your muffled slew of curses as Iwaizumi’s speed slows before he pulls his soaked hand away from you, Oikawa doing the same with your mouth before he pins Iwaizumi down onto the bed, overcome and overwhelmed with need. Luckily for him, you’re incapacitated at the moment, giving the boys a chance to show each other their love as well.

It’s captivating to watch, you muse internally, the way that Iwaizumi goes from manhandling you to delicately cradling every part of Oikawa that he can touch. The way their tongues are swirling together and the way they’re both stroking each other’s cocks to alleviate an ounce of pressure—it’s so intimate. It’s so goddamn beautiful. Despite Tōru claiming they were going to show you how much they loved you, this worked just as well because there’s a part of you adores the way they love each other just as much.

Like watching a fly become trapped in a spider’s, large, billowing web.

[atendersun-archived]

muu and hannah

did I have to send this to myself because some brat @kannojo wouldn't send it to me herself? yes. I do what I want

ship meme ! / Accepting

Muu & Hannah

001. .   .   .   kills the spider

If he is feeling brave, and the little bugger is not incredibly large or dangerous looking, the animal activist in Muu will typically lead him to taking the arachnids outside via the cup and paper method rather than outright kill them. If it looks giant and mean, however, then it is left fully in the responsibility of Hannah to dispose of.

002. .   .   .   proposed

Seeing as these two definitely do not fit the stereotypes associated with the majority of all heterosexual couples seeing as she is much more secure and capable of speaking on what it is she wants and needs, whereas Muu is far more soft spoken in those regards, it would not be unexpected for Hannah to actually pop the question instead of him. In true Muu like fashion, though, he definitely waited a few weeks down the line to do something very special for her to return the favor. He also has taken to calling her wife well before the actual ceremony has taken place because he is That kind of husband.

003.  .   .   .   kissed the other first

Hannah. Although unable to place in his head the first time they truly kissed, he can, however, recall the various different kinds of kisses between them. From the chaste press of lips to cuts and scrapes developed in their youth, to those far more adult in their meaning as they are shared between them in the heat of passion. They are definitely the couple that kiss constantly throughout the day, because if not, one or both of them would surely die from a lack of consistent affection.

004.  .   .   .   initiates things

Muu. As much as he is quite frankly the more submissive partner in terms of personality and method of intimacy, he still puts forth a lot of effort into suggesting things they ought to do between them in order to make sure that it isn't just Hannah putting in all the work into their relationship. What also plays a big part in in it is obviously his timid ways, so it is often the safety method to allow him to come to her than the other way around just in case should unintentionally startle him. Though, what he doesn't really know is that she often has figured him out before he even has to say anything, so those times she does initiate anything emotional, romantic, or physical between them, it is because she sensed a mile away he was needing it.

005.  .   .   .   would leave the other

In the past, it would have most definitely been Muu. Not out of anything heartbreaking like cheating, or wanting to reestablish and old fling, but more for the reason of wanting to focus on his mental health for the sake of being more emotionally available for a deeper relationship like she deserves. This is less of a concern in the present obviously since this lady has already dealt with him at the height of his depression, as well as his stupidity, so there is nothing else that can really be so much of a shock that she'd be better off leaving at this point.

006.  .   .   .   is more jealous

Hannah. Granted, in the event that Hannah were ever in a situation in which she was surrounded by eligible bachelors trying to win her affection, would Muu be a tad upset? Yes, but he also both trusts and knows Hannah can very hold her own in those circumstances that he is more prone to letting those kinds of feelings roll off his back long before they even settle in the front of his mind. Hannah, on the other hand, is well aware of how much people attempt to take advantage of her man that she doesn't take it nearly as lightly when people overstep their boundaries with Muu. Plus, she had to spend years listening in as the man she loved talk about Akatsuki over, and over again, so I would say she earned the right to be jealous time to time.

007.  .   .   .   is lazier

For the most part, neither. Muu for example is always on the move as he goes from job to sometimes therapy, only to come home and do a bulk of the meal planning for the week on account of the fact that he takes a lot of pride in making sure everyone in the household is getting an adequate amount of organic fruits and vegetables throughout the day. He also very much so enjoys cleaning simply out of regards of wanting to make sure Hannah has less she on her plate. Even in the case of sex it can be a toss up, because there are times he wants to do all the work he can to make sure she just has the opportunity to do no more than just enjoy the experience, whereas other times he frankly earns the title of being regarded as a pillow princess.

008.  .   .   .   sends weird texts at 3 AM

Muu. The man has insomnia and will gladly forward her the most random messages related to anything from dreams to memes he saw online. Most of the time it is definitely a tiktok though.

009.   .   .   .  is more experienced

One would think that Muu would be after the multiple, yet failed, relationships he had back to back for some time, but the reality of that is how much of his experience was rooted in shame and being provided the bare minimum. The real answer is that they are actually becoming more experienced at things with each other than either of them may have attempted to have been with other partners. They're pretty much down to try anything just as long as they can call each other their firsts.

010.   .   .   .  said i love you first

Hannah. She also says it far more frequently than he does as well. When he does initiate expressing that kind of communication between them, though, it is typically always attached to a very well thought out gesture in order to really solidify the fact that he means it and not that he is just saying it.

[knightofameris]

in another world — peter parker

Setting: ending of infinity war to the moments after Gender: Neutral Contains: blood, could be seen as platonic? or unrequited/y’all are fucking dense? i tried keeping it open o: or even as a set up, cursing (oops, already cursed) Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You didn’t think you’d know anyone after dying. But when a mysterious man led you to a group of familiar faces you didn’t expect to see your best friend.

a/n: I finally got this out. Also, still writing the literal 3-part series (maybe more, depends) but I’m a lazy piece of shit so uhhhhhh. [reposting from my old account :3]

Let me know if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes or if I accidentally say ‘she/he’ instead of the gender neutral ‘they’.

Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy! 

❝ no matter the dimensions we’re in we’d always find each other right? ❞

You gripped your side as you felt the blood start seeping through your uniform. The fight was long and brutal. Lives were lost and more importantly, the Avengers had lost.

Leaning against the edge of a tree, too weak to move, you watched the scene before you. Each one of the Avengers struggling to come to terms with what just happened. Fear struck you when a sudden feeling came over you the same moment Bucky called out to the captain. It felt like it was out of the movies created from a poem. The sudden disappearance of each fighter, people calling out for loved ones, and those who died alone.

Natasha came up from behind you asking if you were okay. You looked up at her and nodded meekly, your face glazed over in horror. She put one of your arms over her shoulder.

“Come on, let’s group up, and we’ll get you checked out.” You nodded your head again as the two of you stumbled towards the rest of the Avengers who were still alive. Steve sat on the ground next to his fallen friend when he saw you approaching with Natasha. Worry cast over his face once he saw you limping towards the group. He pushed himself to stand up and walk up to the two of you to make sure you were alright.

Your breathing was even, as even as it could with your injury. Nat watched your chest rise and fall, to see if there were any abnormalities in your breathing pattern. It was smooth, you breathed in through your nose and out your mouth. But her eyes furrowed when she noticed that your breathing hitched, and your chest heaved, slightly jerking as you struggled to let in air.

“Guys?” You gasped out, looking at each of the older Avengers. You looked down at your legs but they weren’t there and you fell to the ground, Nat holding on to you as she tried to soften the impact. The numbing pain that alerted each of your nerves caused your body to go into shock. Your mouth gaped open, your breaths quick and sharp.

“Kid, you’re gonna be alright, okay?” Steve bent down, his voice cracking as he struggled to keep it together.

Nat smiled at you, caressing your face, a pained smile etched on her face. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll fix this okay?” You wanted to cry, you knew what was happening. You wanted to believe them but, you didn’t know what to expect.

“I love you guys,” you croaked out, then looking away as you faded into dust.

Thor clenched his jaw in anger and looked away from the two clamber over the pile of ashes. At himself or at Thanos? He didn’t know.

***

Your eyes snapped open, immediately taking in the yellow-tinted sky. Looking to the side, you felt yourself laying in what seemed to be water which was also tinted yellow. Slowly, you sat up but you weren’t soaked like you thought you’d be. Then that’s when you recalled the earlier events.

You died.

“Is this heaven?” You mumbled to yourself, looking around. In the distance, you saw an odd piece of architecture, four pillars with an arch. Frowning, you slowly approached it.

“You probably don’t want to go towards that,” a voice said. You turned around only to see an older man donned in a peculiar navy blue tunic adorned with a red cloak on his shoulders. His beard reminded you of Tony’s and the white hairs on the sides of his head made you think he was an older man. But his facial features and lack of wrinkles let you think otherwise

Tilting your head, you asked, “And why’s that?”

“Just have a bad feeling, everyone did,” he replied. “Odd that you decided to walk towards it.” You looked back towards the pillars then back at him.

“Everyone?” You wondered. “Who are you?” Your eyes narrowed at the man who came out of nowhere. Though, if you were dead, you didn’t have to worry about dying again. The man shifted his stance in front of you before speaking.

“I’m Doctor Stephen Strange, and you’re (Y/n) (L/n), right? Full-time Avenger and full-time student,” he responded. You continued to glare at him as you pulled off your mask.

“Yeah, well that was supposed to be a secret,” you muttered and then walked towards him.

“Peter talked about you,” he said. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him.

“Wait, Peter? As in Peter Parker?” You asked somewhat excitedly. But then you stopped and frowned. “Wait, he died too?” Strange looked to the side, his head bobbing side-to-side in a ‘sorta-but-not-really’ manner.

“We’re not really ‘dead’,” he put quotes around the word dead. “Come on, I’ll explain as I take you to everyone else.”

You purse your lips as you reluctantly followed the man who began to explain where you were.

It seemed as if the two of you were walking in place. All you could see was yellow, and the sloshing of the water didn’t help. But anytime you looked back, the four pillars grew smaller and smaller. It was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you were in a pocket dimension. Hell, alternate dimensions, in general, was what shook you the most. But to be in a dimension that was really just the soul stone? It just felt impossible. But it gave you a sense of relief, you still had a fighting chance somehow.

“So do you guys have a plan?” You questioned, breaking the silence that came after Strange finished his explanation. He didn’t seem too much of the talkative type, especially considering you were years younger than the man. “How’d you even find me?”

“Not really, unless the rest of the group created one while I went off to find you,” he replied. “And Parker’s spider senses, as he calls them, sensed someone else came.” You nodded your head. It made sense after all.

“What about the rest of the universe? Are they okay?”

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” The man quipped. You stopped in your steps, appalled at his rudeness.

“Sorry I’m always curious, asshole,” you muttered loud enough for him to hear before continuing to walk with him. He rolled his eyes but then eyed you carefully. He was surprised at how well you were taking everything. Strange also respected at how you cared about the rest of the universe even if you were ‘dead’.

Strange sighed, he knew he probably shouldn’t be as much of an asshole as he usually is. Especially with someone as young as you. “The other half from the snap is here, you were among the last. The ones who died after the snap from car accidents and whatnot are also here. Seems only fitting since they come here too.”

More hope. Which made you smile. “Great, that means after we kick Thanos’ ass everyone can go back to normal.” Strange chuckled at your response.

The walk to wherever the two of you were headed continued. Along with Strange, the sound of the water sloshing about accompanied you.

Small figures in the distance entered your vision that slowly grew bigger as you continued to approach them. You wondered how in the world Strange was able to navigate this pocket dimension but when you were able to recognize a few of the figures as you got closer, you didn’t even bother to ask. Bucky grinned at you and placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder, gripping it tightly as he shoved him around a bit.

“Look at who’s here, Spider-ling,” Sam crossed his arms. Peter would’ve corrected him but he couldn’t. He just stood there, mouth gaping at who Strange brought. He didn’t expect you to be the last person to arrive. But there you stood, smiling. Neither one of you moved. “Close your chin, boy! Unless eating flies is what you really do because of your powers.”

Bucky laughed at Sam’s remark and patted Peter’s back hard enough to push him forward.

“Ow!” Peter looked back at the older man.

“Look,” Peter began walking towards you as he pointed his fingers towards the two men, “just don’t tell them I thought you were Jesus.”

“Oh, we’re so telling them,” Sam chuckled. Bucky smiled in response as he watched the two of you interact. Wanda rolled her eyes at the two’s antics, her lips perked upwards but her eyes still glazed over with a hint of sadness. Vision wasn’t in the dimension they were in, no one was able to find him.

You grinned at Peter as he slowly approached you and your little handshake you had ensued. Being best friends meant that you had to have a handshake, if you had one with Ned and MJ, you did with Peter. But then Peter pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned for a moment but promptly hugged him back.

Murmuring into your hair, “I’m so glad you’re here, I thought I’d be alone.”

“I mean, you have everyone else here though,” you chuckled.

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend,” he let go of you and looked into your (e/c) eyes. “Along with Ned and MJ, but we’re crime-fighting buddies.” He nudged you with his elbow and you laughed. For a moment, you kinda wished you made him stay on the bus, or that you should’ve gone with him. But you knew if you saw him die or vice-versa, it’d fuck the two of you up.

“Speaking of our guys in the chairs…” You trailed off, looking towards the other people who occasionally eyed the two of you now and then.

“They’re alive,” Peter responded. You nodded, a pang of guilt and pain pulled in your chest.

“That’s good but,” you paused, making eye contact with Peter once more, “they probably think we’re dead, huh?” Peter took in a deep breath, knowing very well what you mean. The pain he saw in Tony’s eyes as he said he was sorry would probably stay with the olderman forever. He already knew of his PTSD and anxiety attacks, his death probably just made it worse. And to think of how your friends and the rest of the Avengers felt?

Peter didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. You already knew how he felt as you were surrounded by the other Avengers as you faded away.

“Oh, hey! Is that a new person?” A new voice called out, the two of you guys looked away from each other to look at who was talking to you. A man, who seemed to be human, wearing a red leather jacket looked down at you two. “Ah, you guys dating?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged faces. Slowly, you burst out laughing. Peter chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at you who seemed like you were having the time of your life. To Bucky and Sam, they couldn’t really tell if you were being overdramatic just to be overdramatic, or if you were just covering up the heat that might be rushing up to your face. Out of embarrassment or awkwardness, they still couldn’t really tell.

“Me and this kid?” You pointed at Peter with your thumb. “No way.”

“(Y/n), this is Peter Quill-”

“Please, call me Star-Lord.”

Peter rolled his eyes but continued, “And the other guys are part of the Guardians of the Galaxy.” You took in the faces of people before you, an alien who seemed like a bug was beaming at you, a tree who seemed bored out of his mind, another humanoid who had what seemed to be red tattoos, and a green woman. An odd group.

But it didn’t stop you from saying, “Guardians of the Galaxy? Half of us are dead.” Though it was meant more like a joke, Quill flinched. “I’m joking, sorry. Too soon.”

Looking at Peter, you couldn’t believe the situation you were in. Maybe you should’ve been more scared of what was going to happen. But with the last words Nat and Steve said, what Strange informed you, and being in the presence of Peter Parker, you knew you’d be okay.

Before you knew it, one of the Guardians jumped on over to you and grabbed your hand, her antennas began to glow.

“Woah!” You pulled away, glancing a Peter with a plea for help. “What are you doing?”

“I can feel emotions,” she replied. Peter gave you a reassuring smile so you slowly gave back your hand to her. “You feel lots of love, love for-”

“Okay, we’re done here,” Strange interrupted. “We’ve gotta create a game plan.”

Quill began, “Or, I’ll create-”

“No.”

The green woman smacked Quill in the backside of his head and you laughed at the scene before you, glad that the situation you were in was glossed over. For dying, all of you guys seemed pretty relaxed. But I guess it doesn’t really matter. I mean you had Peter Parker right there with you, and that’s all you really needed. Your best friend by your side while all of you created a game plan.

“Hey, I’m glad we’re in this mess together,” You said to Peter.

He nodded his head and let out a heavy breath. “Yeah, me too. Who knew we’d find each other again.”

Letting out a laugh and lightly punching his arm, with him feigning hurt, “I mean, no matter the dimensions we’re in, we’d always find each other, right?”

“Yeah, always,” he responded.

“Are-are you lovebirds done?” Strange narrowed his eyes towards the two of you.

“We’re not-!” You both said at the same time.

“Together, we know.”

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf

The Places In Between by Rory Stewart

“I offered Asad money but he was horrified. It seemed a six-hour round trip through a freezing storm and chest deep snow was the least he could do for a guest. I did not want to insult him but I was keen to repay him in some way. I insisted, feeling foolish. He refused five times but finally accepted out of politeness and gave the money to his companion.Then he wished me luck and turned up the hill into the face of the snowstorm." 

- Rory Stewart

Just weeks after the fall of the Taliban in January of 2002 Scotsman Rory Stewart began a walk across central Afghanistan in the footsteps of 15th Century Moghul conqueror Emperor Babur and along parts of the legendary Silk Road, from Herat to Kabul. He'd find himself in the course of twenty-one months encountering Sunni Kurds, Shia Hazala, Punjabi Christians, Sikhs, Kedarnath Brahmins, Garhwal Dalits, and Newari Buddhists. He said he wanted to explore the "place in between the deserts and the Himalayas, between Persian, Hellenic, and Hindu culture, between Islam and Buddhism, between mystical and militant Islam." He described Afghanistan as "a society that was an unpredictable composite of etiquette, humour, and extreme brutality."

The Places in Between is Stewart's account of walking across Afghanistan from Herat to Kabul in January 2002. The book was the winner of the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Award and the Spirit of Scotland Award and shortlisted for the Guardian First Book Award, the John Llewellyn Rhys Memorial Prize and the Scottish Book of the Year Prize.

I first read the book as a teenager a few years after it came out when I was spending a few months doing voluntary work for an Afghan children’s charity in Peshawar, Pakistan with my older sister who was a junior doctor at the time.

I read it on the rocky bus ride from Peshawar, Pakistan and into Afghanistan from Jalalabad to Kabul with my sister and her colleagues. I avidly read the book because I already knew the author through my oldest brother but from a distance because of our respective ages. Little did I realise then that I would be back in Afghanistan a few years later but this time in uniform doing my tour in Afghanistan flying combat helicopters against the Taliban.

I had the book with me (but a newer copy) and it took on a greater prescience precisely because as soldiers, even from the most senior officers on down, we privately questioned what the hell were we really accomplishing in a country ravaged by war since the Soviet invasion in 1979 (and that’s being generous given how history has buried empires into the graveyard of Afghanistan as a testament to their hubris).

Maybe it was hubris or perhaps it was that adventurous strain that needs to be scratched that led Rory Stewart to undertake his madcap journey. Stewart did the entire journey on foot, refusing any other form of transportation (and at one point going back and redoing a section of the walk when he couldn't turn down a vehicle ride). He took an uncommon route straight through the centre of the country and the heart of the mountains, instead of the more common route through the south that bypasses the dangerous mountain passes. This choice was partly because it was shorter, partly because the south was still partially controlled by the Taliban, and partly I suspect (though he doesn't say this explicitly) because it's the less-discussed and less-known route, even today.

This is, therefore, a sort of travel book, describing places that 99.99% of readers in the Western world are very unlikely to ever go. It's also unavoidably political, since Afghanistan is unavoidably political. However, unlike many travel books and many books with political overtones, it's carefully observational, documentary, and quietly understated in a way that gives the reader room to analyse and consider. Stewart focuses on his specific journey and concise, detailed descriptions of what he encountered and lets any broader implications of what he saw emerge from the reader's evaluation. He describes how he reacts to the remarkable natural beauty and almost-forgotten ruins that he encounters, giving the reader a frame and a sense of the emotional impact, but he's not an overbearing presence in the book. The story is clearly personal, but he doesn't dominate it. This is a very difficult line to walk, and I don't recall the last time I've seen it walked as deftly.

Instead there is a real sense that the author has gotten over the novelty of travelling and is more focused on the fundamental circumstances he encounters. The book overall is a fascinating read and there is much to be learned about the epistemologies driving the Afghan people and how different interpretations of Muslim teachings (and likewise, any teachings) can create small, but significant differences between neighbours. He has a gift for vividly describing the people and the landscape without injecting himself too much into the scene.

I suspect every reader will take different things from The Places in Between.

For some readers unaccustomed to the culture of Afghanistan, they would find it distressing to read how dogs are treated in Afghanistan. It's said Prophet Muhammad once cut off part of his own garment rather than disturb a sleeping cat. Unfortunately, he didn't feel equal affection for dogs, and they're "religiously polluting." They're not pets, and they're never petted. A quarter of the way in his journey Stewart has a toothless mastiff pressed upon him by a villager and he named him Babur. The evidence of past abuse could be seen in missing ears and tail, and someone told Stewart the dog was missing teeth because they'd been knocked out by a boy with rocks. Stewart found the dog a faithful companion and said he'd call him "beautiful, wise, and friendly" but that an Afghan, though he might use such terms to describe a horse or hawk would never use it to describe a dog.

But I knew all this growing in Pakistan and India as a small girl. Friends would look perplexed that we Brits - or any Westerners - have dogs or cats as pets and even see them as part of the family.

For me though two big themes stuck out when I first read the book.

One of the things that struck me most memorably is the spider’s web of personal loyalties, personal animosities, different tribes and history, and complexity of Afghan politics that Stewart walks through. Afghanistan is not coherent or cohered in the way that those of us living in long-settled western countries assume when thinking about countries. While there are regions with different ethnicities or dominant tribes, it doesn't even break down into simple tribal areas or regions divided by religion. The central mountain areas Stewart walked through are very isolated and have a long history and a complex web of rivalries, differing reactions to various central governments, and different connections. Stewart meets people who have never traveled more than a few miles from their village, and people who can't go as far as his next day's stop because they'd be killed by the people in the next village. It becomes clear over the course of his journey why creating a cohesive western-style country with unified national rule is far less likely and more difficult than is usually portrayed in the Western news media. The reader slowly begins to realise that this may not be what the Afghans themselves want, and some of the reasons why not.

A large part of that recent history is violent, and here is where Stewart's ability to describe and characterise the people he meets along the way shines. It is a tenet of both Islam and the local culture to give hospitality to travellers, which is the only thing that makes this sort of trip possible. Stewart is generally treated exceptionally well, particularly given the poverty of the people (meat is extremely rare, and most meals are bread at best), but violence and fighting fills the minds and experiences of most people he meets. He memorably observes at one point that one of his temporary companions describes the landscape in terms of violent events. Here, he shot four soldiers. There, two people were killed. Over there is where they ambushed a squad of Russians. It's striking how, after decades of fighting either for or against first the Russians and then the Taliban shapes and marks their mental map of the world. It's likely that few of the people Stewart meets are entirely truthful with him, but even that is an intriguing angle on what they care to lie about, what they think will impress him, and how the Afghan people he encounters display status or react to the unusual.

The second big theme that stuck out for me on a personal note was how Stewart respectfully weaves the wonder of history with the sad lament of the destructive loss heritage on his travels. In the book, Stewart followed roughly the same path as Babur, the founder of the Mughal Empire, did in 1504 at roughly the same time of year. He quotes occasionally from the Baburama, Babur's autobiography, which adds a depth of history to the places Stewart passes through. The Minaret of Jam in the mountains of western Afghanistan is one of the (unfortunately rare) black and white pictures in the centre of this book, and Stewart describes the legendary Turquoise Mountain, the lost capital of a mountain kingdom destroyed by the son of Genghis Kahn in the 1220s, of which the minaret may be the last surviving recognisable remnant. He describes the former Buddhist monasteries at Bamyan in Hazarajat (the region of central Afghanistan populated by the Hazara) and the huge empty alcoves where giant statues of the Buddha had stood for sixteen centuries until destroyed by the Taliban in 2001. This book then is full of history of which  is described with a discerning eye for necessary detail.

How Afghanistan's precious historical and cultural legacy was being destroyed even back in 2002 is heart breaking to read. I think many Westerners certainly know about how the Taliban dynamited the giant Bamiyan Buddha statues over a millennium old because they considered them "idols." Just as profound a loss is discovered by Stewart in his travels. There is a legendary lost city, the "Turquoise Mountain" of the pre-Moghul Ghorid Empire. Archeologists couldn't find it - but when passing through the area, Stewart had found villagers who had, and were looting artefacts with no care for the archeological context or the damage they were doing to the site, selling the priceless wares for the equivalent of a couple of dollars on the black market. This is what he tells us about his discussion with the villagers about the lost city:

"It was destroyed twice," Bushire added, "once by hailstones and once by Genghis." "Three times," I said. You're destroying what remained." They all laughed.

Even as I write this I can’t help but think this episode eerily echoes the madness gripping us in Britain, Europe, and the US (albeit for different reasons) in defacing and pulling down historical statues in wanton in acts of extreme ideological vandalism.

Overall I enjoyed the ‘peace’ of this book as there is a constant tone of a simple purpose. There are some moments along the way that are quite confronting and even frustrating, but so many that are warm and celebratory of the Afghan belief in hospitality.

Perhaps others will differ but I didn’t find too many irritating passages that wax-poetic on the evolution of the traveller. Stewart’s writing style is clinical; completely void of sentimentality, he never allows his own initial or personal meditations on these places overtake his observations, written with much hindsight. Whether being harassed by local soldiers or struggling through snowdrifts Stewart does not bridge a gap with the reader to really get a sense of who he his, as if his own story would detract from the crucial timing of his recordings of this landscape and its people.

His own biography is something out of John Buchan. The son of Scottish colonial civil servant who was born in Hong Kong and grew up in the Far East (and subsequently the second most senior official in the British secret intelligence) before being packed off back to England to Dragon School, Eton and onto Balliol, Oxford to study PPE. A short stint with the Black Watch regiment (as his father and uncle before him) before joining the British Foreign Office and work in some hot spots of the world, including a stint as deputy governor in the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq after 2003. He went on to work at the Carr Center for Human Rights Policy at Harvard before returning to the UK to successfully run as a Conservative MP in his native Scotland. Served as a minister in different ministries under Prime Minister Theresa May’s government and improbably came close to upsetting the coronation of Boris Johnson as the next leader of the Conservative party. He resigned from the party rather than be purged and made an unsuccessful bid to run as an independent candidate for London Mayor. He continues to writer and author travel books and front documentaries. He has a storied background but he wears it very lightly.

Of course there is a conceit to the book which in a sense all travel books of this kind that largely goes unquestioned. I don’t think it’s wrong to question a certain kind of entitlement that pervades these kind of books, no matter how much I enjoy reading them especially about countries you have traveled to and know a little bit about. Stewart after all embarks on a journey ‘planning’ to rely on the proverbial kindness of strangers because that is an Islamic cultural and religious value. Try planning a trip anywhere in Western Europe or the USA and Canada. I cannot imagine anyone walking across America, or England and Scotland for that matter, who would believe that he was entitled to expect food, shelter and assistance because he asked for it.

And he does it - as have countless travellers before and after him. Because Stewart succeeds in his journey, he is evidence of an astonishing degree of Afghan Muslim hospitality and generosity. As a back packer who has done it rough not just in Afghanistan but also neighbouring Central Asia as well as Pakistan, India, and China I can see why it might rub some up the wrong way. But I also think it’s not cultural or some sort of colonial arrogance on Stewart’s part. It’s hard to articulate but it’s really a kind of cultured sensitivity of people and lands you already are familiar with or know well from childhood.

Certainly for Rory Stewart - and myself - didn’t exclusively grow up in England and Scotland but in the Eastern post-colonial countries of the ex-British Empire that afforded a privileged childhood (privileged as in a real cultural engagement and immersion) that left a deep appreciation and respect for those countries cultures and traditions. I believe for the vast majority of Western back packers who take adventurous treks across these lands they do so partly out of genuine respect and understanding of different cultures.

For instance, the legacy of this book has been that Rory Stewart has spear headed a long term project called Turquoise Mountain. Alongside his partners, they have been re-creating the "downtown" river district in Kabul and restoring it to it's former glory. They have opened schools for people to re-learn the ancient arts of carving, weaving, architecture, etc. They have supported efforts to restoring city blocks that have been covered in a mountain of trash, and restoring homes where families have lived for centuries. And all for free. The Afghan have never been sure why someone would be doing this out of the goodness of their hearts, but that the poignant irony is that the goodness began with them through their hospitality of the stranger.

The kindness to strangers is a real thing in this part of the world. Kindness to strangers has it roots in fear that the strangers might be gods or their messengers alongside the pragmatic need that strangers in a strange land might need assistance. I sometimes wonder how is it we cannot show the same unabashed kindness to strangers to our homes?

However you slice it, you have to admire Stewart for his mostly un-aided walk across Afghanistan. It does take a certain kind of ballsiness to do it. He carried just his clothes and a sleeping bag (and money), trusting that the villagers along the way would put him up for the night and feed him. He got very sick (diarrhoea and dysentery), was at constant risk of freezing to death in the mountains, and had some very unpleasant encounters with Afghan soldiers in the last few days, after rejecting very strong advice not to walk through this section.

Strangely though nothing about this book is breathtaking of ‘Oriental exoticism’ beloved of Western imagination. Indeed nothing in this book is romanticised and nothing is placed on a pedestal. Stewart writes openly and honestly of all the people he met, those friendly, and those that would've preferred to rob him and leave him dead in a ditch. He's truthful and humorous, and I found myself walking alongside him, a sort of ghost following his rugged trail through mountains, valleys, and Buddhist monasteries.

Re-reading this book when I was doing my tour in Afghanistan with time to kill between missions, I wished George W. Bush and Tony Blair - and all the other Western leaders since these two - could have taken that walk with Stewart and learned the lessons he did. Stewart gives you a sense of the complexity and diversity of the culture and of Islam - and just how ludicrous and ignorant were the assumptions and goals imposed on the country by the invading Westerners. Indeed at the very end of his walk, Stewart reaches Kabul, the heart of the western intervention in Afghanistan and the place where all the political theorists and idealists came to try to shape the country. He describes the impact of seeing draft plans for a national government, which look ridiculous in the light of the country that he just traveled through.

It's a rare bit of political fire in the narrative that's all the more effective since it's one of the few bits of political commentary in the book. Indeed it’s all the more rich and relevant given its emergent commentary and background for the current war being fought there. Stewart necessarily tells only part of the story of Afghanistan, but he tells far more of the story than most will know prior to reading it. It should be mandatory reading for anyone making decisions about how to proceed in that region.

I would recommend anyone take a walk with Rory Stewart.

[eldritchsurveys]

1062.

Have you ever started reading a book and wondered if you’d read it before? >> IDK where on earth Lane got this survey from but it is long as balls and I’m taking it as a personal challenge at this point lmao. LET’S GOOO I’ve never had this experience, no. I don’t always remember the content of books I’ve read, but I at least remember the experience of reading them, I guess?

What has been bothering you a lot lately? >> Oof. I don’t know how to explain it here so it makes sense to the average reader, so I won’t bother making sense. I want Bruni to be a real, external entity, so badly, but if he’s not then I need to know. I need to know if I just created him, because I needed to, so I can come to terms with that and figure out what to do about it. I’ve also been bothered lately by just... my inability to form connections, to feel the way I’m supposed to feel about other people. Knowing why I’m like this (and knowing that it’s not some inherent flaw of mine but a direct result of not being emotionally taken care of when I should have been) only helps a little. I feel like there’s no way I’ll ever be able to fix this, and my only truly fulfilling relationships will be Inworld, forever. (I guess that’s better than nothing, though! At least Inworld exists.)

What (or who) have you been missing lately? >> ---

Are you trustworthy? >> I mean, I guess. I don’t know what anyone would be trusting me with.

Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? >> No, even a white lie would have gotten me punished.

Have you ever hallucinated? >> Yes.

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? >> Closed, to keep both the cat and noise out.

What flags do you have in your room, if any? >> None. Sparrow has a pretty neat gay flag on her wall and a regular gay flag on her lamp.

What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? >> Hm.

What is the worst decision you ever made? >> *shrug*

Do you miss college? >> I’ve never been.

Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? >> No.

What is your favorite arcade game? >> In the Groove.

Do you feel neglected? >> Not now. But I sure do feel the ramifications of previous forms of neglect.

What school subject(s) are/were your best? >> ---

Are you allergic to grass? >> Nope.

Do you remember to water plants? >> Sometimes. I managed to kill a spider plant, though, so I’m kind of discouraged when it comes to plants. I’ll let that be Sparrow’s thing, I’m apparently unfit.

What season is your birthday in? >> Spring.

Name 3 creative people you know. >> ---

Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. >> ---

What color was your first car? >> ---

What year did you graduate? >> 2004.

When was the last time you saw the person you currently have feelings for? >> ---

Have you ever been scammed? >> Nah.

Are you allergic to pollen? >> No.

What style of wedding dress do you like best? >> Sparrow’s was pretty neat.

Are you over your first love? >> ---

Do you talk on the phone a lot? >> I never talk on the phone.

Would you rather call or text? >> Obviously text.

Do you always answer your phone? >> What do you think?

When was the last time you went to a party? >> I guess January; the get-together after Elle’s wedding was pretty much a party.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Beans and rice.

What’s the last book you checked out from the library? >> I haven’t checked a book out in a while. I heard about a book recently and it wasn’t on Scribd so I decided to check Libby just on a whim (I’m used to the books I want to read never being available as ebooks in this library’s meager collection) and they had it. So I might check it out. I feel kind of anxious about doing it because my reading habits have been so erratic lately and I’m like “but what if I don’t read it fast enough?” which, like, you know, I just... renew it... but no one said anxiety had to be fuckin logical, you know.

Do you have a twitter? If so, what was the last thing you tweeted? >> No.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? >> ---

What’s the last thing you cooked on the stove? >> Eggs.

What color is the cover of the last notebook you used? >> ---

Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? >> Uh... Sparrow, I think.

Who sent the last e-mail you got? >> YES! Magazine.

What song is currently stuck in your head? >> Just some FFXIV music because I just got done playing about an hour ago.

Do you have a favorite shape? >> No.

What color are the sheets on your bed? >> Light grey.

What time do you usually go to bed? >> Between 10 and 11p.

Do you ever use coloring books? >> I’ve done so, but I haven’t lately.

Are you planning on watching the Olympics? >> No.

Do you pronounce the word “often” with or without a “t” in the middle? Hmm. Now that I’ve said it to myself in a few different contexts, it seems I do both. If it’s a one-word answer, like in response to “how much do you get high?” then “often” has a t in it. If it comes in the middle of a sentence and is not the focus, it does not have one. < Yup.

Have you ever been on a trapeze? >> No.

Do you enjoy popping bubble wrap? >> Sometimes. I saved some from a recent package just in case I get the urge, lol. It’s on my desk right now.

Are there any waterfalls near where you live? >> I don’t think so. The landscape isn’t exactly varied here.

Do you like seafood? >> Yes.

Have you ever had to wear a uniform for anything? >> Parochial school.

If so, what did it look like? >> IDK, man, it was a long time ago.

Do you personally know anyone who is an author? >> No.

Do you own a Polaroid camera? >> No.

Do you enjoy baking? >> No.

What’s your favorite type of flower? >> Sunflowers.

Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? >> I was coming home from Houston.

Do you know anyone who is left-handed? >> Sure.

What is something you think is underrated? >> ---

Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? >> It’s not so much the temperature as the level of humidity, how sunny it is, what time of year it is, etc. There are multiple factors that go into how I experience temperature and the number on the thermometer is only one facet of that.

In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? >> ---

How often do you travel outside of the state/province you live in? >> Not often. Before it was just because it’s expensive and also Sparrow would have to take off work and stuff, and now it’s because of those reasons and also the pandemic.

What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? >> ---

What has been your favorite job you’ve had so far? >> Selling merch for local bands at shows.

What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? >> Chunky medium-hot salsa.

Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? >> ---

Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? >> This is probably the farthest north I’ve been.

Farthest south? >> I think New Orleans is farther south than Houston, but I don’t feel like looking it up to confirm (or be proven wrong).

East? >> Long Island?

West? >> Colorado.

How often do you run the dishwasher? >> Every couple of days, when it works. (We’re waiting on Maintenance to come fix it, but of course they’re taking their sweet time.)

Do you wash your face at the sink or in the shower? >> I use micellar water, so I just do it in my room. Otherwise I’d do it in the shower because I hate using the sink for that.

Name a stereotype about your gender that you don’t fit. >> Are there agender stereotypes? I haven’t heard of any.

Name a stereotype about your age that you don’t fit. >> Uh... I don’t have kids? Idk.

Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? >> If so, they’re not unusual to me, so...

Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? >> We do have a waffle iron (Sparrow got one for her birthday). I’m not sure what other kind of appliances are uncommon. Are rice cookers uncommon? I can’t imagine why they would be, they’re so convenient. Unless you just don’t like rice...

What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? >> ---

Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? >> ---

What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? >> Uh... pre-calculus? I don’t remember, man.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? >> I don’t remember. Somewhere between five and eight, I guess. Sounds right.

How old were you when you learned how to swim? >> ---

How do you react when someone is rude to you? >> It depends on the situation.

Have you ever had a friend who was too clingy? >> No.

What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? >> Blizzard, I’d imagine.

Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? >> ---

Do you have a Netflix account? >> I do.

Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? >> ---

Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? >> I guess New Orleans.

How long does it take to get there? >> About half a day, including layovers and shit. No direct flights from GRR to MSY.

When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? >> ---

What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? >> I don’t really know. I was gonna say Sparrow’s room, and then I was gonna say the kitchen, and then I was gonna say the half-bath... I think the half-bath is probably the most reasonable answer?

What is the last random act of kindness you did? >> ---

Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? >> I don’t have to reduce it, I barely use any to begin with.

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? >> Yes.

Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? >> Yes.

Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? >> Probably. Not necessarily because I wanted to, sometimes dreams just do weird shit like that.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? >> No.

Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? >> I guess that’s a way to put it.

If your Facebook status doesn’t get any likes/comments, does it bother you? >> ---

Which friend do you confide in most? >> ---

Do you wear a cross? >> There’s a small cross on my left earring. But I don’t wear, like, a religious cross.

What is your opinion on Arby’s? >> I’ve only had it once, and that was on the way back from Colorado that one time, when the Greyhound stopped at Arby’s. I don’t remember what the food was like, though. Not even sure why I remember that we stopped there at all.

When you have your own kitchen, how will it be done? >> I mean, this kitchen is “mine”? I don’t live with parents or anything, so...? But I don’t have a choice in how it looks or anything, I didn’t build it.

What is your favorite doughnut? >> Apple cider doughnuts, always.

Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? >> No.

Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? >> I read the first book ages ago, didn’t care for it, forgot about it (until it blew up in popularity, of course).

What is your favorite party game? >> ---

Do you or your parents rake your yard? >> ---

Were you pro-Obama? >> I didn’t have an opinion at the time, I was busy trying to survive.

What is your favorite scent from Bath & Body Works? >> ---

What was the last illegal thing you did? >> I don’t remember. Probably something like jaywalking. Or watching Bill & Ted Face the Music on an illegal streaming site. 

Who did you last go to the movies with? >> Sparrow.

What color was the last vehicle you were in? >> Silver.

Do you have any family members in the military right now? >> ---

Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? >> Nope.

When was the last time you wished time would move faster? >> I don’t know.

Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? >> Nope.

Have you ever heard voices? >> Not... in that sense. Like obviously I hear the Inworlders’ voices, but... not quite the same thing, I’m guessing.

Do you believe in angels and demons? >> I have not encountered those kinds of angels and demons. I usually use those words as like... shortcut terms rather than references to the actual Christian concepts or whatever.

Who is the worst neighbor you have ever had? >> ---

Did your Barbies go on dates? >> I don’t recall the specific nature of the social playacting I did with Barbies.

If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? >> I didn’t “come out to” anyone.

Where did you meet your first crush? >> ---

Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? >> ---

Do you ever go places with wet hair? >> No.

Who is your favorite little girl? >> ---

What do you want the most in life? >> That’s complicated.

What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? >> I don’t know, man.

Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you?  >> Absolutely.

When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? >> No. I’ve also showered with the door open even when Sparrow was home, I just usually don’t because it’s not necessary (I just use my phone flashlight in that case so it’s not pitch dark and I don’t kill myself in there). But when I’m alone I just leave the door open for the ambient light. Why don’t I use the bathroom light? Because I have Problems and Disorders. Next question.

If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose?  >> I like my own.

What are your top 3 favorite genres of music?  >> ---

Where did you buy your dishes from? >> We generally don’t buy dishes. All of our dishes are from either Sparrow’s sister or the wedding registry.

Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime?  >> I doubt it.

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money?  >> ---

What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been on a ship?  >> I’ve been on a ferry and a regular boat. Not a ship.

Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media?  >> Just like... off days, I guess. Sometimes I need time to do other stuff and it’s easier to do that when I don’t have the internet wide open and ready to distract me.

Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? >> I don’t have a preference.

Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes?  >> *shrug* ???

What’s a class you did not take in school, but now wish you had?  >> ---

Have you ever been to either of your parents’ workplaces?  >> ---

What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy?  >> I don’t have any thoughts about it because I don’t know what exactly said philosophy entails. The phrase itself doesn’t give me enough information to start forming an opinion around.

Have you ever been bitten so hard that their teeth marks were there after? >> Yeah.

Ever been given a hickey? (Love bite)  >> No.

Ever gave one?  >> I don’t think so.

Are you more of an outgoing type or shy type?  >> ---

Do you think it’s weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner?  >> .... No.........

Are you self conscious? If so what are you self conscious about?  >> I’m self-conscious about being Weird(tm), having Issues and Problems Disorders, and having differing opinions about things that lots of people think a certain way about.

Are you flirty at all?  >> No.

Are you racist at all?  >> I might have perpetuated racist speech and behaviour, sure. I don’t think that means “I am a racist”, I think that means I’ve learned some fucked up shit from other people and hopefully I’ve learned better by now.

Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest)  >> ...

If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do?  >> Call the authorities, I guess. Like... idk??? That’s such a weird situation to be in.

Would you rather adopt or have your own child?  >> ---

What would you class as cheating on someone?  >> I don’t have a personal definition for cheating because the concept does not apply to me or how I do relationships.

Do you try to be politically correct? >> No.

What’s your favorite kind of sea critter?  >> I’m not sure. There are a lot of cool ones.

Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before?  >> Yep! <3

As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? >> Neither, I like the earrings I have.

Do you find P.E. humiliating, or think schools shouldn’t teach it?  >> I found it obnoxious and boring and a waste of time, but that doesn’t mean schools shouldn’t teach it. I just had a bad time with it for my own specific reasons.

Do you recycle?  >> No.

Are you interested in current world issues?  >> Not particularly.

Do you think you are mature, or immature?  >> ...

What kind of career are you interested in? >> ---

Do you own a pair of sunglasses?  >> I own two pairs. I really want a better pair, like an actual good pair of sunglasses and not just cheapo pairs.

Do you use bobby pins, hair clips, or elastic hair ties? Which?  >> No.

How badly do you get acne? (If at all)  >> I don’t.

What’s the best way to cope with a breakup?  >> ---

If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason?  >> I said something that ticked them off? I don’t smile enough? IDK, dude?

How many text messages do you have in your inbox atm?  >> ---

When was the last time you had a difficult decision to make?  >> I don’t remember.

In school, what subjects do/did you find the most difficult?  >> English.

Do you still speak to the person you had your first kiss with?  >> ---

Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with?  >> ---

Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook?  >> One of Elle’s friends that I met at her wedding.

Who was the last person that asked if you were okay?  >> I don’t remember the last time someone asked me that.

What does your handwriting look like?  >> I don’t know how to describe it.

Do you use any products on your hair, other than shampoo and conditioner?  >> I use a tea tree oil on my scalp and that’s about it.

Who were your best friends in primary school? >> ---

Do you still speak to any of them? >> ---

What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine?  >> I don’t remember the last time I used a vending machine.

What color hair did your first crush have?  >> ---

What type of shoes do you find the most comfortable?  >> No shoes.

Are you more masculine or feminine?  >> ---

If you could design your own mug, what would you put on it?  >> I don’t want to design a mug. I like the ones I already have.

What is the best beach you’ve been to?  >> I’ve only been to the NY ones...

What is one thing you physically can’t do?  >> Run a marathon.

Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes.

Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building?  >> No.

Have you ever visited your nation’s capitol building?  >> No.

Do/did you have a favorite seat in church?  >> ---

What is your favorite park?  >> I still really love Central Park. And Prospect Park, too.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? >> A very minor aftershock, once.

Do you chew gum regularly?  >> Not anymore, not after Orbit ruined my favourite kind. :(

Where did you go on your first train ride?  >> I think that was to North Carolina when I was 17.

Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship?  >> No.

What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) >> ---

Do you dunk your cookies in milk?  >> Nope.

What is something you are confident about?  >> ---

Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What?  >> No.

How do you feel about needles?  >> I don’t have any feelings about them, they don’t affect me either way.

What is your favorite accent to listen to?  >> ---

What was the reason you last got dressed up?  >> Halloween.

Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? What were they?  >> Maybe at some point, but I don’t remember now.

Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? What about on your preferred gender?  >> I prefer looser clothing. Not baggy, per se, just looser.

What do you do when you are really, really mad?  >> I don’t know, I haven’t been that mad in so long I have no idea what I’d do.

Would you rather go naked than wear fur?  >> Fuck no????

Do you put a line through your 7’s? What about your Z’s?  >> Nah.

What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable?  >> *shrug*

Are you able to forgive and forget? >> Mehhhh.

Do you like cold pizza? >> I really do not.

What is your favorite fruit?  >> I’m not sure, I like most fruits.

What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit?  >> ---

Do you like broccoli and cheese? >> No! Leave broccoli alone, christ.

What about potatoes and cheese?  >> Not really?

Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom?  >> No.

Toaster or toaster oven?  >> We only have a toaster, but I would love a toaster oven.

What are you most known for?  >> ---

Do you have any reputations? What are they?  >> Er...

Do you wear band shirts? What band was on the last one you wore?  >> I do. I’m not sure what the last one I wore was.

Do you own any hats? Describe them.  >> I have a plain floppy beanie and I have one that says “I don’t need no body” and it has a dancing skeleton on it, lol.

What about masks, you got any? Describe those.  >> Yeah, I have a raven masquerade mask. I forget why.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless?  >> I don’t remember.

Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not?  >> ---

Have you been called a bad influence?  >> I don’t think so.

Describe your favorite pair of socks.  >> I don’t have a favourite, per se, but here’s a fun pair I have: they say “eat, drink, and be spooky” or something very similar and have a fun Halloween design on them.

Have you experienced any life-changing news, events, etc, lately?  >> No.

Have any self-done piercings?  >> Not anymore.

Ever pierced someone else?  >> No.

Do you get distracted easily?  >> By things like sound and motion.

Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful?  >> It can really go either way. Sometimes it’s just neutral.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? >> I don’t care. They’re probably just going to be loud asses too.

How many ceiling fans are in your home?  >> Zero.

Do you tweet your life away? >> I don’t tweet at all.

How do you feel about shameless self promoting? >> I don’t care?

When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods?  >> Yeah.

What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS?  >> Yes, which is why I hate when people type like that. There’s a popular blogger on this website that makes all their posts in all-caps and I will never fucking understand it. Like, their content is fun sometimes but I can’t really engage with it because I hate the shouty text!

[altumvidetur]

MCU Daredevil: MattFoggy Fic Recs

MCU Fic Recs Masterpost

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I didn’t actually watch season 3 of Daredevil, so my recs are all from before that. I still plan to watch, so please take that into account when interacting with this post!

Fitter. Happier. More Productive., by what_alchemy

Matt tries to let go. He's not too good at it.

through the bookcase, imagining a scene, by returnsandreturns

“He’s back,” Karen says, making Foggy jump and drop his armful of books. She winces and drops down immediately to help him pick them up.

“Matt?” Foggy asks. It’s an optimistic guess—there are a lot of guys who could be back, like the guy who sits in a study carrel and eats peanut butter out of a jar with his hands and Uncomfortable Religious Missionary Guy, who is actually three different guys.

“Yep,” she replies, nodding and widening her eyes when she grins. “He’s flirting with the circulation ladies, which means you’ve got just enough time to steal my shift at the reference desk before he gets there.”

The Constellation of Touch, by what_alchemy

Months after Fisk is put away, nothing's right between the partners at Nelson and Murdock. But Christmas is here, and Matt is still expected at the Nelson house.

you won’t get better till you’re worse, by annperkinsface

The road to forgiveness has a lot of vodka.

my name on your lips, by unnecessary

It starts when Matt and Marci have coffee. Then Foggy and Claire have coffee. Then Claire throws a Christmas party, and really, it isn't like Foggy means to keep almost confessing to Matt, but can anyone really blame him? 

I Decided This, by patster223

“I’m contributing yet another lovely sign to our office,” Foggy says, brandishing the finished product with a flourish. Matt can’t see the sign, but he can probably sense the flourish, which is what matters. “It says, ‘It has been ‘0’ days since Matt made an idiotic decision.’”

“Doesn’t seem like it will inspire much trust from our clients.”

What the sign instead inspires: debates, understanding, a patented Murdock-level guilt trip, ice cream celebrations, a kiss, and perhaps even a way to finally move forward.

We Just Lost the Beat, by knight_tracer and lady_ragnell

Matt hears a lot in the city at night, sirens and crime--and the late-night radio show Foggy With a Chance, which sometimes runs a Daredevil Watch if he's been particularly active, but which mostly plays music. He probably shouldn't call in and request a song, but he does it anyway.

I’ll Most Likely Kill You in the Morning, by inkfingers_mcgee

Foggy and Matt never met at school. They cross paths for the first time while working opposite sides of a case, and Matt doesn't leave an impression beyond the superficial: a blind, pro-bono crusader who Foggy will feel really guilty about having to oppose in court one of these days. Seemed like a nice guy, but no one Foggy will worry about a week later.

He has more important things on his mind, like the masked vigilante who keeps cornering him in dark alleys to threaten him for information.

Touch Me, Don’t Feel Me, by fabella

Foggy struggles to navigate a casual sexual relationship with Matt after the events of season two. It's predictably complicated.

Hold Me Fast and Fear Me Not, by lady_ragnell

Something in New York has everyone walking around with iron in their pockets, and it seems like the vigilante they're calling the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is at the center of it all. Foggy knows how to steer clear of that kind of trouble, but when the Devil seeks him out, he ends up in the middle of it with him.

A Janet and Tam Lin AU.

jump, check parachute, by augustbird

Foggy Nelson: good at law, terrible at feelings.

Just Wanna Take Him Home, by lady_ragnell

Foggy mostly takes little old ladies to parties doing escort jobs, which he's fine with.

Getting hired to spend two hours hugging a lawyer is kind of a departure. He should have known it would all get complicated fast.

Daredevils Don’t Drink Decaf, by ChuckleVoodoos

“I really, really want to make a joke about bats and blindness. Will you punch me if I make a joke about bats and blindness?” Matt shakes his head, grinning. “Okay, so we’re Superspud and Blind-As-A-Batman.”

In which Foggy uses his law degree to peddle coffee to unsuspecting caffeine junkies, and Matt is his favorite customer. Who may or may not be Batman.

Say You’ll Still Be By My Side, by lady_ragnell

Bless me, Foggy, for I have sinned.  

Eres Mi Grande Avocado, by ChuckleVoodoos

Matt's got this way of speaking in Spanish that's just a little different than his way of speaking in English. In English, all of Matt's words are carefully weighed and measured and cut like crystal. They're precious but planned. With Spanish, the words seem to fall like drops of liquid gold, hot and rich and wild, and it makes Foggy want to gather them to himself and finally be warm.

Gazelle, Lion, Gun, by ChuckleVoodoos

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen has got some competition. Sassy sharpshooters do not make good crime-fighting partners, except that they really do.

Dream Catcher, by ChuckleVoodoos

When Matt has nightmares, so does Foggy. Unfortunately, Matt has a lot of nightmares. Even when he's not asleep.

Or: Matt visits Foggy after the bombings, and it doesn't go well.

Red Cross, by ChuckleVoodoos

Foggy is perfectly happy being a law-abiding physician with a weakness for cupcakes.

No one else seems to understand this.

Rocky Horror Pancake Show, by ChuckleVoodoos

Foggy falls asleep at exactly 12:00 AM, and he’s making a wish. He wakes up at 12:00 AM too—twenty-four hours before he fell asleep.

"Let's do the time warp again!"

The Boxer-Puncher, by one_flying_ace

“Matt, you’re my best friend, but you’re a goddamn idiot sometimes. It’s not about you. I’m not training, I’m not looking to get in a ring or do what you do. I just wanted to know a little more.” He says it fiercely, strongly, right into Matt’s ear like that’ll get it through to him any easier. “It’s not like I’m any good at it,” he adds, which is probably a mistake.

His heartbeat definitely spikes on the lie, because Matt flinches.

if ever joy surrounds you (you have to let it), by KiaraSayre

"I mean, I did think that maybe vigilantism is actually good for you in terms of, like, self-actualization or whatever, but - have you been seeing a therapist or something? Good talks with your priest?"

(Or, it's weird how weird things aren't between Matt and Foggy. Particularly when they're talking about boners.)

That Spin I’m In, by Werelibrarian and poisonivory

"What does that mean?" Matt asks Strange.

"Well, that depends," Strange says, unfolding his legs and letting his feet touch the floor again. Matt gets the distinct impression Strange is hedging. "Are you currently suffering heartbreak?"

Matt very carefully doesn't think about Elektra. Or Karen. Or Foggy. "Let's leave my personal life out of this."

Strange clears his throat. "Yes, well, that option may no longer be on the table."

Matt really hates magic.

How Your Heart Pounds Inside Me, by poisonivory

Hiring a surrogate alpha is supposed to be the simplest way to get through a heat - and Matt doesn't want to risk his heart again, not after the last time. But nothing in Matt's life is ever simple, and when his surrogate turns up again to oppose both Matt Murdock, Attorney-at-Law and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, it's more than just Matt's heart at risk.

Just Our Hands Clasped So Tight, by poisonivory

If there's one thing Foggy Nelson knows about Matt Murdock, it's how tactile he is.

Will You, by poisonivory

Foggy's always joking when he asks Matt to marry him. Matt's always serious when he says yes.

- OR -

Five proposals Foggy forgot, and one Matt makes sure he'll remember.

Stay In My Arms (If You Dare), by poisonivory

The Defenders are the most elite bodyguard agency in the world. When Wilson Fisk's personal attorney Foggy Nelson walks in looking for protection from a mysterious man in black, Matt Murdock is more than happy to take Mr. Nelson's safety in hand. But Nelson's guilt is hard to prove, and Matt may have gotten himself in too deep - especially once someone besides the man in black starts gunning for his client.

I Would Know You by Touch Alone, by unnecessary

It doesn’t matter if Matt has a soulmate, because if he does, it’s not Foggy.

Written for this prompt on the kink meme: “Foggy’s soulmate mark is raised birthmarks that read ‘Matt’ in Braille.”

...Aaaaaand a series within the Spider-Gwen universe:

The Lawyer All the Wickedness, by poisonivory

(Summary by me: in which Foggy is, at turns, angered, baffled and aroused by scumbag defense attorney Matt Murdock.)

[beloved-judged]

On the topic of possession

Upfront proviso: I’m not epileptic, I don’t have any seizure disorders, I’m not diabetic, etc. I also don’t have any diagnosed psychiatric disorders that would explain this.

Can we talk for a moment how scary being possessed is?

I understand that it’s necessary for me--I have the capacity, I’ve done it before, and I am willing to give up the relationship between consciousness and body as a service to my community.

But if I’m being honest, it makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A deep, atavistic terror that my conscious mind seems to be unable to talk the monkey and lizard in the back of my brain into accepting without it being a major point of crisis.

My feelings on that topic were forced slightly over a week ago, following a pattern between the spirit and I. I have a picture of how things are to go, or I out and out tell the spirit that I would very much like not to have something happen, and pretty promptly afterward, that thing happens.

Say to the spirit that I’m okay with being followed around by, say, spiders, but to please keep the spiders out of my pajamas/robe and bed, dream the next night about a giant spider leaping out of my robe and pajamas to cling to me as I lay on my bed.

It feels, if it makes any sense, less deliberately provocative than illustrative of a relationship, and the fact that I am not currently setting the terms. I’m always free to walk away, but that’s not likely to happen given... well.... the vows I’ve made, the person I am, and the fact that there’s really not much of interest to me elsewhere in my life.

For whatever else can be said of the spirit, the life in me flows from them and they purchased me from me out right.

I suppose I pictured possession now that I have had certain rituals done to me as occurring under much more controlled circumstances--say, during ritual or otherwise under the supervision of my papa, while in his house.

It was foolish of me to think that. My experiences with possession before this point have not been controlled nor in the context of a church. They’ve been a two minute warning in the back of my brain (”lay down right now or fall down”), followed by my body getting up and taking care of some sort of business: frequently a conversation that the person being talked to absolutely refuses to tell me about later (or make eye contact), but the way they talk to and treat me frequently changes for the positive. Whatever happens tends to generate fear and respectful politeness.

Or in the case of slightly over a week ago, my consciousness being abruptly pushed aside with very little warning while driving, resulting in a massive multi-car crash that totaled an SUV around me (and I do mean totaled; the repair estimate was about twice what the SUV was worth and involved replacing practically everything under the hood and the hood itself), took out another vehicle, and landed me in the ER for about 11 hours.

I feel like I should say, at this point, that the aftermath of the crash involved no injuries aside from bruising. They looked for and didn’t find any biological cause, extensively scanning my brain and body, expecting to find massive bleeding or something really fucky in my blood chemistry, and instead found nothing to explain what happened. And meanwhile, I was apparently ‘conscious’ and doing stuff--I’m not a fan of doctors, but my affect in the medical records is listed as helpful, appropriate, and friendly, which it would damn well not have been if it was me.

This is also the healthiest my bank account has ever been, and all the things I need to do before I move closer to my temple have mysteriously been scheduled before I’m due to leave (several of them involve institutions that are usually very slow to schedule.)

The insurance company could not be more prompt or helpful, two words I’ve never been able to use to describe an insurance company in my life.

And every single safety device on the SUV failed, despite the crash occurring at slightly under highway speeds. I should have been a smear, especially since I ended up in oncoming traffic, crossing a median and several lanes during the course of the crash.

I didn’t even cut my lip, though I did bite my tongue, and the bruising is relatively minor.

This is all definitely something I had to appreciate in retrospect. Maybe ‘had’ is too strong, but my initial emotional reaction has been panic and anger, and I have previous experience with possession.

It’s one thing to lie down, get up someone or something else, and have conversations with people. Weird, uncomfortable, and hard to explain--par for the course in my life, which has essentially been wall-to-wall shit that reminds me how different I am from the people around me (and reminds them, which sometimes results in some unpleasant and occasionally dangerous social situations.)

It’s something else entirely to absolutely destroy an SUV around me and to stay ‘gone’ for almost half a day. Before this, the longest I’ve been gone was an hour or two, coming back to myself sober despite drinking heavily the whole time. Whomever it is borrowing my skin drinks like a fish--amounts that, frankly, I’d be very dead if I tried to emulate.

I’m really struggling with how to feel about this. On the one hand, I have a lot to be grateful for. It looks like I’ll be able to replace my vehicle with a much newer, nicer model, and I won’t have to worry too much about money during the move.

I am very grateful, but it took me a week to arrive at grateful.

On the other hand... my plans are definitely shot to shit. I had just bought that SUV (and it was hellaciously expensive to fix up so that it would run) specifically so that I could pack my stuff in it and move, and I cannot emphasize enough how creepy it is that I was driving at the time.

I could have really injured the other driver. I could have died (not that I would have known, because as far as my consciousness goes, there’s nothing between driving home from work and the ER a long time later.)

And honestly... the idea that I am not in control of myself all the time continues to creep me out. The authoritative way that I was just not myself is scary.

I am a little disappointed with myself, and my dreams reflect the disappointment I suspect the spirit feels about my response--literally dreams about shitting myself and trying to hide (but being unable to do so) while I clean myself up.

I feel like it would be reasonable for most anyone having the same experience to be freaking the fuck out, but I also know that what is reasonable for everyone else is not what is appropriate for me, if for no other reason than because I am able to be mounted and have done so before I knew about vodou. I had no idea what possession was the first time it happened, and thought I was going crazy, which lead me to a lot of time in therapy, during which they never discovered a reason for this to occur.

My discomfort does not constitute a good reason not to be possessed. Nor does it constitute an argument against possession. And I wish I had the kind of faith necessary not to have initially responded with terror and rage.

I wish I was able to face this with calm and trust.

Instead, I’ve been grappling with memories I put aside a long time ago and baffled rage.

And tears. Lots and lots of tears, which is also very unlike me.

[spidermilkshake]

Welcome to My Elective Vampire TED Talk #2

TW: Mention and discussion of blood, hematophagy, etc., food and overeating mention.

This one's much less a characterization problem I have, and a lot more a problem with sheer physics goofs in vampire-y media. Science and numbers abound. Behold:

Vampire Physics: “Chuggin’ Four Liters of Buttermilk”

Lovely title. It should certainly evoke some idea of exactly what aspect of the typical vampire mythos I’m about to have a big issue with. Heavy whipping cream, buttermilk, light corn syrup… anything along the lines of red blood in terms of viscosity—whatever you prefer.

It’s the reason vampires are vampires; it’s the primary identifying trait across all the various little representations throughout folklore and fiction. It’s the primary “fear factor” behind the potential presence of a vampire in these fictional settings: They trail after you, perfectly stealthy in the night, perhaps they look and act just like you, could be hidden until darkness or even blending in among you right now—innocuous, human-sized beings but especially equipped to outrun, overpower, or avoid your notice. They very well are among your communities—since you have something they need. The Blood!

Cue the royalty-free thunder sound effects.

But that’s just the issue here with making the vampire fears so very grounded and founded. This isn’t a pack of wolves being sure to stay close to the elk herd to survive the winter on whole bones and carcass. They want something of the humans that the humans can live without, at least to some degree. “But Spider,” I hear a particularly ardent hypothetical vamp-fan interject, “blood loss does kill people! These vampires must be lethal because they need all the blood—it’s not like they waste it!”

Ah, well, the point is well-made: If you have decided the vampires of your setting require this and operate this way, who am I to stop you? The only questionable idea is that a vampire leaving a person alive and unharmed is a “waste” apparently. But do consider your worldbuilding choices should be done with intention—do not introduce a rule that you are not prepared to account for in logistics and adherence to verisimilitude, and especially physics. When establishing a “drains-dry rule”, establish also a physicality of such vampires that suits it because the typical capabilities of a vampire in most modern fiction would need to change for such a lifestyle.

Let’s start with size:

Presuming a vampire is within the size range possible to humans (what better way to blend in, eh?) and is uniquely adapted to subsist on an at least partial blood diet, deriving some or all needed energy and nutrients from the substances of blood, of an amount they can comfortably fit inside them on a nightly basis. Assuming you want your vampires to be even roughly passable as human pre-feeding as well as post-feeding (and not have them expand to several times their normal girth like a tick and spark a new wave of, er, inflation enthusiasts), then the blood-drinker’s maximum stomach volume should be at roughly one liter. And that’s maximum—as in “OH GOD WHY DID I EAT THAT MUCH? I FEEL LIKE I’MA DIE” levels of over-doing it, not a normal “full” volume where most would stop. That more moderate volume would be roughly half down to roughly a third of that one liter. Basically, if in any sense your setting’s vampires are actually physically putting the blood inside them, and they don’t bloat like a damn balloon, they don’t require any more than a quart of blood at one time.

This does mean, by sheer physiological limitation, your non-expandable human-sized corporeal-blood-needing vampires should never be lethal for their prey just by virtue of draining that blood. Here’s why: The average human body contains anywhere between 4 liters and 6 liters of blood, depending on size again. Even a particularly careless and gluttonous vampire (who also happens to be dumb and/or skeevy enough to not just go “ah. I get more blood by noshing on more people, not just the one”) biting a particularly petite victim will leave them still alive but very much depleted and unconscious. Only intentional carelessness or an accident (such as the “whoops! That one was super-anemic already!”) or both would turn out worse. And “draining dry” should be physically impossible for such a vampire—even an especially ridiculous and greedy one.

Most of the less-hungry vamps shouldn’t even affect the “prey’s” health any more than a typical (notably not-deadly) blood donation, as the ideal “one-third to one-half of max capacity” for a vampire’s DV of blood calculates out to… between 350 mL and 500 mL of blood from one human. Surprise! A donated unit of blood is measured at exactly 450 mL—the perfect amount for a vampire and the human can somehow survive the attack of the dread creature-of-the-night, so long as…

…you find a place to sit down for a few minutes and some orange juice is nearby. Wow, how harrowing. Truly a miracle that you made it.

“But,” I hear a naysayer nay-saying, “the vampires I’m making are after blood for life-energy! So they can take more because they need the life!”

If blood is being physically consumed whether it’s the blood itself or not, the volume constraints still hold. Also, if blood does “contain life energy” in your setting, who says your vamps need all the life energy from a person? Why isn’t 450 mL of life-energy enough? And why can’t the vampires just drain that much “life-energy blood” from multiple people, until it totals up to a “full life’s worth”? They do realize that if they end the life in a body, it stops making life/blood, right? Those vamps just sound like wasteful clowns to me. Or desperately looking for an excuse to kill someone. See Vampire TED Talk #1.

“But they siphon blood straight into their own veins—so they can drain more!”

… Pay better attention in biology, kids. That is not how eating things eat. Unless you are implying your setting’s vampires are literally undead sponges with no working innards at all, just rubbery, desiccated blood-tubes that need a fillin’ for the demon pneumatics to be puppetted around properly, that is not how eating works. Feel free to use these in horror settings or especially as villainous monsters or demons—but I better hope you ain’t planning on making them otherwise act or think like live, conscious, sapient people! If they’re meant to be good characters especially—y’all are transparent as an empty blood-draw bag with excuses to make vampires universally killers.

If you think this makes vampires “boring”, well… Maybe you’re not in it for vampires. Maybe explore what’s in that dark corner of yourself? Question your “default thoughts”. Let's see more fantasy writ with intention--and conscious of its tropes' tendency to be very, er, questionable when thought about for more than a passing second. I know I'm not the first to notice the blood-logistics problem: Special thanks to Martha Bechtel's ol' blog, which I ended up discovering while researching just how off most vampire media is.

See here for their "Worldbuilding: Vampires and Portion Control" post: https://martha.net/2008/08/vampires-and-portion-control/

[starker-stories]

The Cold, Chapter 2 - The Messages Series

This chapter on AO3

By @thestarkerisobvious​ and @starker-stories​​

New chapters in the series post every Thursday.

All links are to AO3. You don’t need to be a creator to have an AO3 account. You can have one solely as a reader. But to read anything at all in this series, you can just be an anonymous reader and/or commenter.

The best way to keep up with The Cold is to subscribe to the story on AO3. And the best way to keep up with the Messages Series is also to subscribe. Click on the ‘subscribe’ button on each of the above links.

Tags: Tony Stark Feels, Peter Parker Feels, College Student Peter Parker, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Kink, Peter Parker is a Mess, Spider-Man powers, Communication, They Finally Communicate!, And Fuck Of Course Look at Who It’s Written By Of Course They Fuck, Avengers Compound

The entire Messages Series.  All links are to AO3.

Messages Unsent  (complete & posted)

Nothing More Than A Machine  (complete & posted)

Tomorrow  (complete & posted)

My Virgin (Revisited)  (completely & posted)

The Cold  (completely written) posts every Thursday  

Untitled Book 6  ( in progress )

Untitled Book 7  ( in progress )

Chapter 2:   Fencing Left Handed

As they neared the compound Peter asked him for the time, then resumed his position leaning against Tony’s arm and tracing patterns on his sleeve. He took a deep breath.

“Okay, so, things have been changing with me. Like, a lot. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for months, but there was never a good time. That’s not your fault, there were times I could have brought it up but I… like I told you, when I had to chose between sex and talking, I always chose sex. And it’s hard to talk about. I guess it’s... I could have tried to talk about it over the phone or emailed you... anyway.

“I guess I’m… scared. That you’re going to say ‘Oh Well, Yeah, That’s Just Growing Up’ and I don’t… and that’s stupid…”

“Please don’t do that,” Tony reached over and brushed his fingers over Peter’s hair, interrupting him. “Nothing you feel is stupid, Pete. Nothing you say is stupid. Nothing you’re going through is stupid, okay? A self-deprecating exterior can turn quickly into an interior one. I’m kind of an expert at tearing myself up with that.”

“Ok, but it is stupid. Like asking to be treated like a virgin in your bed and then still being too proud in the middle of it. Now I really wanted your advice and I’m also afraid of getting it… fuck.” He pressed his face into Tony’s arm.

“I won’t say it’s ‘just growing up’, whatever it is,” Tony said. “At fifteen you were more of a grown up than a whole lot of people I know.”

“Okay… okay.” Peter’s shoulders sagged for a moment in relief. Then he took a deep breath and tried. Again.

“Did you ever… “ He sat up in the seat. “I mean I know you didn’t because you went to MIT way early… so maybe you don’t. Because in the old days they let you skip grades. They wouldn’t do that with me, they had a whole long talk to May and Ben about it and I understood, at least I tried to. I pretended I did. But high school was like…

“In high school I stayed as busy as I could, with band and academic decathlon and all my totally illegal chemistry studies, and I guess it was okay. Not nearly as okay as it was when I got the spiderbite and I really had something to do, had a million brand new things to learn and a real reason for all those illegal chemistry studies, that was a good thing. That made it so much better. But every time I walked into class…

“Okay I know you hate it when I do this but I don’t know how else to describe it. You know that old movie where the man becomes the Dread Pirate Roberts and now he’s the best fencer in the world and he meets the OTHER best fencer in the world and they are both fencing left handed and they’re both going at it hot and heavy and they both tell each other, one at a time, that they’re not really left handed? Because both of them were trying to take it easy on the other guy, because they both know they’re the best and that’s just the kind of Good Guys that they are? I saw that on TV and that really stuck with me. That you don’t have to be the best in the business, the smartest guy in the room, the whatever. The big shot. You can play it dumb and maybe write your notes backward to slow yourself down or read your textbooks upside down or maybe never study for a test so when the test comes you aren’t the first one finished and faking writing down answers so your neighbors won’t feel so bad. You can fence left-handed. So you won’t be an asshole. Be like Westley and Inigo Montoya and give everyone else a break.

“So I did that. I fenced left-handed and invested most of my time in massive Lego sets and told myself it was the right thing to do. And then the spiderbite happened and I got a whole new life and that was amazing and then you came into my life and that was the best thing that ever happened to me. And all my schoolwork came in a distant third but at least it was slightly interesting the way an old video game can be interesting. If you haven’t played it in years. You know, for about half an hour.

“But I didn’t worry about that because I was going to Columbia. And when I got to Columbia it would all be different. And I could go to real classes that were really hard and I could finally just start fencing regular.

“And Tony?”

He took a deep breath before he looked at his lover.

“It’s not getting harder. I spent my whole first semester going… wait… what? The fuck? And then I thought no, no, this is okay, this is all freshman crap. This is supposed to be like this. Not everybody gets through all four years, right? Except instead of like boot camp where they are trying to get rid of you maybe… I don’t know… maybe they water it down to make you feel good about yourself and ramp up the info later… I don’t know what I thought. And now I’m well into my third year and I don’t get it Tony… when does it get hard? The best part is doing my assignments online — I do them in my dorm room with the keyboard upside down just for fun. Swear to god I’ve been doing my Differential Equations work hanging from my dorm room ceiling because that’s how I test the dissolve-time of my new web formula. And there is so much group work, I mean it’s just fucking constant. I should be glad because it does slow me down but really all it does is give me more time constraints which interferes with my patrols. Homework, at least, I can do from New York rooftops. I can’t do group work that way.”

He laughed ruefully, gazing out the helicopter window. “At least none of this is pissing my professors off. I stopped righteously fighting to NOT be the first person in class done with the work. Fuck that. Now I just turn it in when I’m done and get on with my real job.”

“Don’t ever be ashamed of being the smartest person in the room, Pete. What’s happening with your education, that is a whole ’nother conversation we need to have at a later date. Because it’s wrong, avoidable, and most of all, solvable. I can fix it with a phone call, but I doubt you want me to do that,” Tony said, smiling. “What I’ll do instead is teach you how to fix Columbia. Because, as brilliant as you are? Your professors should be pissed off at you.”

“Okay… okay,” Peter groaned. He pulled Tony’s arm around him and snuggled into his shoulder. “Don’t swoop in and save me just yet because there’s more. I know that sounds like the main thing but it isn’t.. and I’m not ready to… there’s more. This is what this weekend is about… you can swoop in and save me later, absolutely, and then we’ll have awesome sex to celebrate. But please…”

He looked through the window, glaring at the view instead of glaring at himself. For weeks, for a month really, he had planned this conversation, and now that it was here he was doing everything he feared the most — sounding pitiful.

“Please just let me… this is hard.

“There’s… something else.”

Peter took a deep breath and tried again. The fields around the compound were coming into sight, maybe this would be easier to explain if they were walking down there? Peter craned his neck to see the landing pad from the window, judging the distance before he started speaking.

“People at Columbia, they aren’t… bad. The average person walking around Columbia isn’t bad. They’re just slow. I don’t know… maybe I’m just pissed off that Columbia isn’t everything I dreamed it would be.

“But the criminals of New York City? They’re just the same as they’ve always been. Only I’m beginning to… they’re starting to look different to me now.”

He sighed, almost growled, in frustration. Tony dealt with international terrorists, and here Peter was about to complain about street-level thugs. At least the landing pad was getting nearer, but now he feared this wouldn’t solve his problem. He wasn’t sure he could bring himself to use the term ‘The Cold’ out loud, not with Tony. It made sense in his head, but it sounded ridiculous now.

“Remember when you called that press conference to announce to the world that I was the newest Avenger? And I asked you not to at the last second? Because I told you ‘someone has to look out for the little guy’? That was stupid. That was…” he choked on the hated word, but he forced himself to say it. “That was naive.

“On the streets when I’m patrolling, god, I used to get so… pissed. It seems so distant now. I was filled with all this righteous indignation, this anger that someone would pick on the ‘the little guy’. Now, I’m beginning to think that ‘the little guy’ is probably a piece of shit too.”

He didn’t have to say anything else after that. They had arrived.

The helicopter landed itself. New-Cap came to meet them. Tony and Peter stepped off the landing pad, as the helicopter was powering down, to where they could hear Sam. He asked why they were there. Tony didn’t know, so he didn’t answer, leaving his question hanging. He figured Peter would say, but when he didn’t either, Tony didn’t fill the void. It wasn’t unexpected of him to simply ignore whichever Avenger tried to engage him. To not speak or do something until he was damn good and ready to, rather than explain and justify himself to one of them.

Peter, usually ever-cheerful and friendly, looked decidedly uncomfortable. His eyes kept scanning the distant, grassy fields beyond the central cluster of buildings. When Sam asked again what they were doing there, with a little more annoyance in his voice due to Tony’s disregard, Tony simply said, ‘we’ll be in later’, and guided Peter in the direction of his gaze, letting him take over their destination as soon as they’d left New-Cap behind.

As they walked, it seemed like it wasn’t a serious conversation that was going to happen, but that Peter needed to talk about something difficult. The location might’ve been less than desirable, but being there to listen to whatever was bothering Peter? That was exactly what he wanted, what they had talked about a couple of days ago. Tony’s defensiveness fell away. He slipped his hands casually in his pockets as they walked companionably side by side across the lawn, heading out to the farther fields of the compound grounds.

“The else?” Tony asked, trying to bring their conversation back to where it ended when the helicopter landed.

Peter nodded, but didn’t answer that question. He seemed to be looking for something in what was nothing but open fields. Tony remembered, before the fall of SHIELD and the Avengers’ split, he and Cap and Fury discussed expansion plans into the empty land. But things happened. Then the world was gone. His world was dust. Tony walked away from all things Avengers.

“Where are we headed?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll know it when I see it. Thanks for this, by the way. Sam’s an asshole now. I don’t remember him being an asshole.”

“It’s not Sam, I don’t think. It’s the position. But I don’t know Sam. The only thing I know about him is that when he rolled in flight, Vision’s beam went straight through where Sam should’ve been and knocked out the War Machine armor’s arc reactor and Rhodey fell to the ground.” Tony stopped talking for a bit while they walked together. It was irrational to blame Sam. Of course he’d try to avoid the hit. But irrational or not, he blamed him as much as Vision.

“Sam and his inherited shield and his inherited HYDRA assassin can go…” Tony shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck,” he finally said, shaking it off, literally, with a shrug. “They’re not why we’re here. So they’re a distraction. Irrelevant. We’re here because here is where you wanted to be. I’m here because you have something you need to say and I want to hear it. Pete, I’m interested, okay? In you. In everything about you. Even if I have to hear it here.”

“Ok. I’m not… god I’m not trying to be all mysterious, really. I just need some… distance. There it is,” he said with a sigh of relief. “It’s still there.”

They had rounded the south wall of the main building Peter seemed to find what he was looking for — although it looked mostly like an empty field to Tony — and they set out.

They walked for some time in silence.

What Peter had told him in the helicopter was important. But it was clearly not the ‘why’ for why they were there.

“Peter, if all that was wrong was what’s happening at Columbia… or your feeling frustrated by the lack of challenge in your life… or even the inevitable disillusionment of realizing that the world is massively full of blurred shades of grey… we’d be talking about this in bed.”

Peter only nodded.

Tony paused and they walked a little farther. “There’s something else. And… if you think you’re ‘stupid’ for feeling a certain way… you’re not.” He paused again briefly. “I would love to know what’s going on with you. Baby, you are the most important thing in my life. There’s nothing going on with you that I don’t want to hear about.”

“What if it was bad?” Peter’s voice was small, breathless. Looking at his feet.

“Still want to hear it. Just as much.”

“I’m getting cold, Tony,” Peter’s voice broke on the word. “Really cold.”

That puzzled Tony. It was a bright, sunny day, and for early autumn, quite warm. “We can head indoors, if you’re cold.” His brow furrowed. There was something about the way he said the word ‘cold’. “That’s not what you mean, is it?”

“It’s me, Tony. It’s not Columbia or the Gangs of New York, it’s me. It’s in me. That’s why we’re here. I’m changing. I know it’s not just in my head. I need the training ground equipment to quantify some things… and I guess that will make it Avengers business. I don’t know, maybe it is Avengers business, at least it will be. But I needed to tell you first. I’m not… the same. And it’s affecting everything.”

Peter veered them right and Tony saw what they were headed to, a white berm that stood alone in the field of green.

“With MJ and Ned, we can still relax and goof off… they’re not studying the same things I am so it’s easy not to… let them notice but… they’ve noticed. I guess I don’t make the same kinds of jokes I used to. And word on the street is New York has noticed too.

“I used to talk to criminals, I guess I was famous for it. I mean you’re the king of Snark and Banter but I guess I did pretty good. And I couldn’t help NOT lecture them. But I never hit them, because I’d hurt them, that’s why the webbing. But god I can’t talk to them anymore — I don’t feel like making jokes. I feel like punching them — so I just stay away from them. Tony, I can’t trust myself to get close to any of them now. If I need to take someone out I have to do it from a distance, sometimes from a block away, if I’m any closer I have to, I have to web them up and keep moving. I can’t stop to talk. I’m not… safe anymore. Everything’s changed.”

[telltalebatman]

oc facts: frankie

once again no one tagged me, i just need a warm-up after not writing anything sorcione-related for nearly a year. might as well talk abt frankie.

(frankie when she first met mac gargan / frankie currently telling the story to spider-man)

PLACE IN SOCIETY

✖ FINANCIAL – wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty

this one is actually a tiny bit complicated. frankie used to be filthy rich - but that changed after she cut her wealthy family off. she doesn’t actually have any actual financial issues, and is still able to afford living in a comfortable new york apartment - but she most definitely couldn’t afford a ferrari, for example.

✖ MEDICAL – fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged

frankie is definitely fit and agile, having practiced martial arts, gymnastics, yoga and running from early childhood. she also used to spar with mac... but those sessions usually just ended in bed. assuming he even agreed to them, as he wasn’t a big fan of physically fighting his Tiny Wife.

✖ CLASS OR CASTE – upper / lower / middle / working / unsure

whether she likes it or not, she is a member of new york social elite. her family’s name - moretti - carries a lot of weight; her father - bartolomeo - used to be a consigliere and confidant of cicero, one of the maggia dons. and frankie herself almost became a part of don fortunato’s family, having nearly married his son; they are still on good terms, and don fortunato still calls her by her first name.

✖ EDUCATION – qualified / unqualified / studying

frankie never went to college, as her mother emotionally manipulated her into working at her bakery instead. agreeing to it is one of her biggest regrets, as she feels she had missed out on a lot.

(she still reads a lot though, and has a genuine interest in psychology and sociology.)

FAMILY

✖ MARITAL STATUS – married, happily / married, unhappily / engaged  / partnered / divorced / widow or widower / separated / single / it’s complicated

frankie is - happily and lovingly - married to mac gargan, one of spider-man’s biggest enemies. their marriage isn’t perfect though, as she hadn’t seen her husband in months.

✖ CHILDREN – has children / no children / wants children / adopted children

she has no children and she very much wants it to stay that way, as she has negative interest in motherhood.

✖ FAMILY – close with sibling / not close with siblings / has no siblings / siblings are deceased / it’s complicated

she has an older brother - takeshi - and she hates him. she hates him and their parents to the point of turning to maggia for help in getting away from them.

her brother had always had a weird obsession with her, obsession that eventually unfortunately turned sexual. their parents knew about it - and pretended like everything is fine.

she’s not on speaking terms with her family anymore.

✖ AFFILIATION – orphaned / adopted / disowned / raised by both parents / it’s complicated

she was raised by both parents, and it sucked. her father was mostly absent, and her mother was emotionally abusive; eventually frankie cut them off - and in response they promptly disowned her.

TRAITS & TENDENCIES

✖ disorganized / organised / in between

to put things simply: frankie has her shit together. she always knows what time it is, where her keys are and how much money she has in her bank account. she likes to get up late, yes; but most the time she gets up when her alarm starts to go off.

✖ close-minded / open-minded / in between

she has to be open minded - she lives in new york. the avengers are there, spider-man is there, rhino is there, the maggia is there... she simply has to be open to new experiences and discoveries, because otherwise - she’d go crazy.

✖ cautious / reckless / in between

most of the time, frankie strategically plans her every move; but then again - there also are times where she decides fuck it and goes with the flow.

✖ patient / impatient / in between

oh she IS patient. doesn’t mean she doesn’t get annoyed at people who are late though.

✖ outspoken / reserved / in between

it all depends on her relationship with people around her, really. around angelo - her best friend - she’s outspoken and chatty; but around his father - don fortunato, the don - she’s reserved and cautious, meticulously cherry picking her every word.

✖ leader / follower / in between

frankie was forced to be obedient her entire life; now she just craves giving orders. her end goal is to become maggia’s first ever donna.

✖ sympathetic / unsympathetic / in between

frankie actually has a lot of sympathy for others, mostly due to what she went through. the thing is - she absolutely can’t express it without coming off as awkward at best or patronizing at worst.

✖ optimistic / pessimistic / in between

that entirely depends on the scenario - but most the time she can’t even be bothered to think about actual outcomes. she’d rather stick to planning instead.

✖ hardworking / lazy / in between

frankie is, without a shadow of the doubt, the most hardworking person amongst her social circle of maggia kids. but the thing is - she truly, madly, deeply hates it. given a chance, she’ll sit around and do

nothing

all day - but there’s no rest for the wicked. first she worked on her grades, then she nearly worked herself to death in her mother’s bakery, then she had to try to make ends meet after moving in with mac, and then - she had to work on getting him back.

she simply has no chance to ever not be hardworking.

✖ cultured / uncultured / in between

partially thanks to her father, partially thanks to the necessity of getting along with don fortunaty, and partially thanks to her own gothic interests frankie is actually very well-versed in literature, history, theater, opera, art, and food.

✖ loyal / disloyal / in between

despite what “she cut her family off as soon as she got the chance” might sound like - frankie is actually very loyal. but the thing is - her loyalty does not come easily. you have to work for it.

✖ faithful / unfaithful / in between

frankie is as faithful as it gets. once she’s in a relationship - she’s not gonna cheat on her partner, literally no matter what.

SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

✖ SEXUALITY – heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual / omnisexual / demisexual

even though she doesn’t have tons of experience - she is bi, with a slight preference for guys. her best friend’s tall, muscular bodyguard was her first crush, when she was around 12.

✖ SEX – sex repulsed / sex neutral /sex favorable

all in all, she’s generally sex positive - even if she finds talking about sex a little bit awkward, especially with people who are not her current partner. she also gets very flustered very fast when her partner begins to talk dirty - there is something about merely hearing about all the things the other person wants to do with her that gets her all worked up.

but yeah. she likes sex. it makes her feel good, plain and simple - and she likes the sense of connection between her and her partner, as well as feeling comfortably vulnerable.

also she simply likes it when other people make her feel good.

✖ ROMANCE – romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable

romantic love is something she enjoys - but at the same time she did spend many years without it, and it didn’t really do her any harm. but, if there is someone who has feelings for her, and she finds herself returning them - she’s not gonna be scared.

✖ SEXUALLY – sexually adventurous / sex experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious / uninterested

she enjoys having sex, and trying out new things, and she does have her fair share of fantasies. they are not particularly wild or kinky - but they are there.naturally there’s also a fair share of things she’d never try with anyone.

ABILITIES

✖ COMBAT SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

while she’s no superhero - she’s actually rather good at hand-to-hand combat, thanks to having spent years training. she often sparred with mac, and he taught her quite a few things - but she could never best him in actual combat. but, assuming she fought a regular security guy, or even a cop - she could stand her ground.

✖ LITERACY SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

she reads a lot and is actually very good at critical analysis and interpretation.

✖ ARTISTIC SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

frankie is actually a great poet and a self-taught painter. her poetry is evocative and raw and her paintings are realistic, yet hauntingly unreal; if she had a chance - she could be america’s next top artist.

except - she was never given said chance, and never approached any of her talents as anything more than a casual pasttime.

✖ TECHNICAL SKILLS – excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

this one is interesting. years of working at her mother’s bakery made her excellent at handling various kinds of dough, shaping intricate designs and working quickly with her fingers - but that does not, at all, translate into being good with electronics.

she is, and i cannot stress this enough, a femme fatale of the engineering sphere. she is absolutely awful when it comes to screwdrivers and wrenches and bolts and all that stuff. she’s kinda decent with computers and smartphones - but only on the software level. if you asked her to install more RAM in your desktop pc - chances are you wouldn’t have a pc anymore.

and it’s not like she’s an expert hacker anyway - her proficiency is around as high as mine. she can pirate software, and use vpns, and knows the difference between ipv4 and ipv6...... but writing her own pieces of code? absolutely the fuck not.