#thunderboltsortofapenny

[bonesbuckleup]

WIP thing, anything with Jason involved that you haven't already talked about

That would probably be Brawl! Brawl! Brawl! which is less of a fic and more of a scene, possibly a no-capes AU?, wherein the Wayne boys, all of them except Jason, get in a civilian fight at a charity event and hauled down to the police station, where Bruce and Jason have to go and collect them from and find them as such:

Damian, rumpled but relatively unscathed, the only injury that Bruce can see a bruise near his hairline, sits with one leg crossed neatly over the other and his hands settled on his top knee. His eyes follow anyone who comes within ten feet of the bench, narrowing whenever someone comes closer, fingers twitching lightly like a dare.

Next to him in the middle is Tim, leaned forward so he’s almost bent in half, elbows on his knees, fists pressed against his forehead. His suit jacket is gone. His tie is gone. His hair is a wreck, and his knuckles are bloody and bruised. There’s blood smeared on his collar. One of his legs is bouncing, up-down-up-down-up-down.

Finally, Dick, sprawled out and taking up half of the bench on his own. Tie loose around his neck like a scarf, shirt open halfway down his chest. His head is tipped back against the wall. Tim’s missing tie is red-splotched and held to his bleeding nose. His free arm is slung over Tim’s shoulder with his fingers brushing Damian’s sleeve.

The plasticky sound of a cellphone camera pings from behind Bruce. He turns. Jason turns his phone sideways to get a horizontal shot. When he sees Bruce glaring, he says, “What?”

Bruce sighs.

“Oh, come on. I missed the brawl. You’ve gotta let me have this. I’m the good one this time.”

He isn’t wrong. Bruce lets him take the second picture without comment.

[dr-shortsighted-owl]

Shortsighted-Owl -> Dr-Shortsighted-Owl

Passed my PhD viva with minor corrections!

I did it! My dream since I was a smol one!

Tagging: @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @spaceprincessem @elvensorceress

@bigfootsmom @rocksaltandroll @ioannalaurel @chaosandwolves @mellaithwen

@try-set-me-on-fire @loveyourownsmiilee @honestlydarkprincess @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

@ronordmann @rogerzsteven @monsterrae1 @thekristen999 @starlingbite

@rewritetheending @fiona-fififi @slowlyfoggydestiny @devirnis @wikiangela

@mumucow @thunderboltsortofapenny @amberlyinviolet @indigo2831 @lonelychicago

@gayhoediaz @the-likesofus

[mellaithwen]

Thank you for tagging me @leothil @fleurdebeton and @princessfbi :) 💕

do this uquiz

do this piccrew

tag people :)

Not sure what to make of that quiz answer to be honest haha, but as for the picture, I never miss a chance to wear a flower crown(!!)

Tagging with no pressure : @homerforsure @littlespoonevan @like-the-rest-of-la @renecdote @hopeintheashes @hattalove @henswilsons @rewritetheending @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @thekristen999 @seacoloredeyes @clusterbuck @tripleaxeldiaz @thunderboltsortofapenny and @shortsighted-owl :)

[luninosity]

The end of an era!

It feels like that! But, well, it had to come (heh) sometime...

...and I feel good about being done with it, having Finished A Big Thing, I think. :D :D

[thesporkidentity]

Maize, of course

share the weirdest encounter you’ve had with a stranger on the street.

I’m going to discount all the times elderly people approach me to share their life stories or tell me about their retirement plans to buy a boat (I have one of those faces. I am non-threatening) because those are relatively normal.

Winner:

So I think I’m gonna go with the guy in the full camel costume outside the university’s science library that I waited with until it opened. It was not Halloween, and there was no event going on. It was also 6:30 in the morning and there was no reason for him to have the head on. I didn’t ask, he didn’t share, we just stood in silence until he went to sit in a study room to read, still wearing the head.

Runner-ups:

The old man who asked me to help him find canned beans, instead of saying thank you (to me, the NOT employee whom he still approached for help), told me that social media is why my generation doesn’t make things like his mother’s (terrible) recipe for 3 bean salad anymore and then walked away.

The horrible brim-stone preacher who used to yell at us outside Turlington that we were “b-b-b-b-b-bad to the bone” and that we needed Jesus.

The small child who thought I was an elf because I am v short and had blue hair at the time. But that was adorable.

The time I got kinda stalked and grabbed by one of the Country Bears at Disney and, in self-defense mode, ended up throwing him(?) to the ground.

However

If we expand this to strangers that I have not physically encountered, then the winner would probably have to be the person who passes by a couple times a week on the road outside my window around midnight honking one of those little clown horns. I have never gone outside or looked to see who they are because I am convinced this is a fae trap.

[cacchieressa]

thunderboltsortofapenny replied to your post “I can’t help it - every time I see a gif set of Jon Hamm as Gabriel in...”

The Elizabeth Taylor eyes make it that much worse

That much worse or that much better? Can you imagine the tabloids: “Bruce Wayne arrived at Thursday night’s annual Gotham Foundling Hospital gala with a new look - violet eyes a la Liz Taylor. When asked, he said they complemented his suit and twirled for the cameras.”

[dr-dendritic-trees]

thunderboltsortofapenny replied to your post “I just realized something Tragic”

You what now

thequantumqueer replied to your post “I just realized something Tragic”

w h a t

@thunderboltsortofapenny @thequantumqueer

Canadian engineers get participate in a secret ceremony called The Ritual of the Calling of an Engineer where they swear an engineering oath and receive an Iron Ring, which is worn on the pinky of the dominant hand so if you’re working on paper the ring drags against the paper to remind you of your obligations as an engineer.

The (apocryphal but shut up) story behind this is that there was a lethal bridge collapse in Canada due to bad engineering, and so the first batch of iron rings were made from the steel used in that bridge.

Needless to say I am Extremely Salty about the fact that the doctors, lawyers and engineers all get to swear oaths in solemn ceremonies and I don’t.

[star-anise]

thunderboltsortofapenny replied to your post “I kinda just want to skip over the next like, 10 years of...”

We're you like, astral projecting into the very frustrating conversation I was having with friends about personality disorders and what is and isn't mental illness?

I feel kind of bad for saying, no, I was having a very enjoyable and fruitful conversation with a fellow therapist about how the Personality Disorder system is inaccurate mouldering trash that completely fails to be trauma-informed.

(This is not to trash on people with PDs, just to say, the system under which we classify and describe them/us, and the ways PDs are written about and presumed to work, are not the best possible ones out there. And the idea that PDs are lifelong and incurable is getting disproven a little more every day.)

My favourite thing in life is trashing psych concepts I hate with knowledgeable people I agree with. Last week I found someone who agreed the Duluth Model failed to be intersectional and it was AMAZING.

[viperbranium]

Ok but what about a slow burn fake marriage shrunkyclunks fic. For reasons

My dream fic.

[oldsouldier]

Tagged by @mia-ugly! Hi, mia!

Rule: Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to know better

Nickname: I mean Bren is kind of a nickname, but it’s a nickname I gave myself for the name I gave myself, so... I have a coworker who calls me Brenny Bear, and Pookie-in-law likes to switch out his nicknames for me. The most recent was Breberon (like Oberon but with a -bree in front)

Zodiac sign: Mia, so glad to hear that you, too, are an Aquarian cliché.

Height: Also 5′9″! Although apparently I give the impression of being taller. I blame this on the fact that I am a gangly spindle of a human being.

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Last thing I googled: "Lyon & Healy harp rental” (look, I want to learn to play the harp really bad. well, harp and hurdy gurdy, but I figure harp is slightly more realistic)

Song stuck in my head: "Flowers” from Hadestown

Amount of sleep I get: Anywhere from 3-13 hours depending. Depending on what? you may ask, but I just lay my finger along the side of my nose and wink.

Lucky numbers: I don’t have any but I highly prefer odd to even numbers.

Dream job: The fact that we don’t have knights anymore is stupid. I would also love to be a stage actor.

Wearing: Sweatpants and a tank top, because I put on sweatpants or pjs pretty much the second I walk in my apartment door.

Instruments: Piano, trombone (theoretically, I haven’t touched one in years), hopefully the harp soon.

Random Facts: I am, as previously mentioned, reminiscent of a spindle, or perhaps a pipe cleaner that has gained sentience, but I am surprisingly strong. I love thunderstorms, flowers, rocks, and trampolines. I am terrified of spiders. I don’t like perfume or candles that smell like candy or baked goods. I can spin in circles indefinitely without getting dizzy. Secretly soft, not so secretly a dumbass.

Aesthetic: Calling anything I do an aesthetic would be incredibly generous, although someone once told me I looked like the cool gender studies TA all the freshmen have a crush on. Ideal aesthetic? That tumblr post that was like “modern remix version of a medieval fantasy protagonist.”

Tagging: @maesby @keeperofthesourcecode @fallen-pages @dancingloki @passavantsridge @pieplease @thunderboltsortofapenny @sapphicsteel @grimdarkfandango @im-the-punk-who (i know that’s not 17 let me live)

[bonesbuckleup]

🔁 I'm too old to know how to make that infinity symbol fr

LMAO.

Anyway, turns out the real challenge here is finding a shuffled song that isn't an instrumental. And, hey, look at that, you get Traveling Song by Ryn Weaver. Lyric:

Oh, I take it in vain All the plans and moves that we made Half a heart is aching to grow Soulmates aren't just lovers, you know? I know, I know Your eyes are the rain, just a soul that's changing in shape I'll be laughing all of the way Thinking about the days

[dr-shortsighted-owl]

Fanfic Origin Story

Tagged by the wonderful: @hippolotamus and @monsterrae1 - Thank you, you two 

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

First fandom I read was Skulduggery Pleasant on FF.net - It’s how i stumbled into the world of fanfiction (Second to BrainySupes on DeviantArt)

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

If I recall correctly I did actually try to write a Klaine (glee) Maximum ride AU fic, I wrote like 300 word and it was atrocious but I think that might be the very first thing I tried to write, its that or a Self-Insert OC Skulduggery pleasant fic.

What’s a piece of advice you would give to your younger fic-writing self?

Just put the ideas down in a document or paper, you never know when you might think of something that really inspires you.

What’s an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

The stucky CATWS fandom in 2014 - shout out to @mellaithwen @rocksaltandroll @thunderboltsortofapenny @amberlyinviolet @boopifer - the fics, the plot bouncing, the ideas; it was such an amazing environment and made me so happy.

Post a sentence or two from one of your older fics, and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

Two of my favourite lines from Electrostatic attraction so far:

Only the top of his head visible from where he has swaddled himself in a mountain of blankets. A ‘Chim’-ichanga, he’d joked.

Tagging @rogerzsteven @mellaithwen @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @thosetwofirefighters @the-likesofus @alyxmastershipper @bigfootsmom @thekristen999

[mellaithwen]

Oversharing on the Internet

Tagged By: @mistmarauder <33 I love to be an enigma wrapped in an overshare so this is perfect actually :)

ONE: Are you named after anyone?

No. I was going to have a nicer name, but then they consulted my sister (who was 4). uch.

TWO: When was the last time you cried?

....yesterday -_-

THREE: Do you have kids?

Nope!

FOUR: Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yeah - I think less so now compared to a few years ago though.

FIVE: What sports have you played/do you play?

Netball and rounders in school, and a little bit of tennis and badminton, but honestly I've had back problems since 2021 so nothing since before that tbh.

SIX: What's the first thing you notice about people?

Probably smile? Or like. I love how distinctive people's laughs are?

SEVEN: What's your eye colour?

Green :)

EIGHT: Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. No question.

NINE: Any special talents?

*through gritted teeth* i can draw... & i can play the harp if that counts as special? idk.

TEN: Where were you born?

In a hospital that no longer exists :) fun fact? maybe? haha

ELEVEN: What are your hobbies?

Drawing, writing, reading, watching TV, and movies. Lying back and imagining my life if I had a dog :')

TWELVE: Do you have any pets?

no nOT YET

THIRTEEN: How tall are you?

5'8

FOURTEEN: Favourite subject in school?

English Lit.

FIFTEEN: Dream job

I mean the dream is to not work, but an illustrator would be nice.

Tagging: @homerforsure @princessfbi @fcntasmas @ravipanikkar @try-set-me-on-fire @littlespoonevan @renecdote @capseycartwright @hopeintheashes @fleurdebeton @like-the-rest-of-la @genderqueerbuck @henswilsons @shortsighted-owl @thunderboltsortofapenny @ashavahishta @seacoloredeyes @andavs and anyone else who wants to share :)

[luninosity]

Wtf did people say to you about writing stucky??!

Yeah…so when I posted my most recent Stucky fic, the one that’s an AU and basically PWP anyway…for like three days in a row, an anon (or more than one) would comment to the effect of “this is so out of character, especially Bucky, why are you even writing this pairing, stop writing them, go write original fic since you obviously want to anyway”.

I just deleted them without ever replying, and the critique part doesn’t even bother me - I mean, it was such obvious trolling, with the anonymous nature and the repetition, that I couldn’t take it seriously - but it was just so…not fun, you know? Like, if this is what’s happening in the fandom, and that’s how people are, why am I even doing this; maybe I should just go write original fic… *hand-wave of weariness*

But I actually had some inspiration for the prompt for this Fest, so maybe that’ll be a good thing, and get me back into writing Steve and Bucky more! I did go ahead and claim that one... :D

[thesporkidentity]

thunderboltsortofapenny replied to your post “The Untamed 101”

Okay okay okay, I'll watch

This better not ruin my life or I'm gonna curse you with snow this winter

1) i just screamed oh my god i will rabbit this shit with you if you want a watching buddy i’m so excited please join me there are so many entrances (book, live-action, manhua, donghua, audio drama) but they all lead to the same place and that place is hell

2) it absolutely will ruin your life and i refuse to apologize for that

[im-the-punk-who]

I don’t know if I ever actually posted this but I can’t find it in the tags so here’s the epilogue I wrote for @thunderboltsortofapenny‘s Del Grant au, set roughly fifteen years after the end of it.

The sound of Del's phone makes him look away from the window of his apartment. He pauses in scratching Kronk's head to look at the screen. 

Hey loser, want to meet for coffee? That new store is opening and I want to try their muffins

He snorts, Kronk looks up at him in a mix of slight alarm and confusion. The blond tabby that's adopted his sixth floor apartment isn't used to the noises he makes yet. He'd only just managed to lure the stray in through his window last week. With pizza, of course. He is nothing if not just like his namesake. Del misses Clint. He makes a note to call him later, it's always easier to hear Clint's voice. For all everything else has changed, Clint's voice hasn't. 

Gimme half an hour. Have to convince the cat to move. 

Half a second later: You're a loser and that cat is taking advantage of your bad habits. See you in half an hour. First ave and tenth. <3

Groaning remorsefully, he slowly starts to detach the warm cat from his thigh and move from the windowsill. He's dressed well enough for a date with a friend - Natalie won't care anyway. As long as Del is smiling and sober Natalie doesn't ever give him too much shit. Del loves that about her. He zips his hoodie up the rest of the way and stuffs his wallet and phone into his jeans pockets, starts shuffling lazily out the door. He hasn't wanted the gloves sitting on the front table since winter, but it's still cool enough that a long sleeve shirt is plausible.

-

Twenty minutes later he steps off the subway out into the east village. For all he lives twenty minutes away he rarely comes here unless one of his friends invites him. He likes to stay in Brooklyn for the most part - or lose himself completely in a really crowded place like Times Square. He revels in the fact that crowds - for the most part - comfort him now instead of petrifying him. It's a small victory, but it's an important one. The new cafe Natalie wants to try is called Trees Bein' - "it's pronounced Tres Bien it's a pun, it's clever" Natalie had insisted, exasperated - and Del can't actually help the sound he makes at the name. His friends are such fucking dweebs. The place is crowded but not uncomfortably so and the nature vibe immediately puts him at ease. He spots Natalie waiting by the front door and waves. 

"You are such a dweeb I can't believe I'm friends with you," he says in lieu of an actual greeting and he gets a pinch to his right arm for the trouble.

"Delano Timothy Grant you are like a hundred and twelve years old and you're still hanging out in wannabe chic cafes with your expectant-mother friends. You have no room to judge in this scenario." The fact that doesn't hurt - and Natalie knows it won't - makes the smile on his face grow bigger.

He's better now. He really is. He's made his peace with Bucky - with the Soldier too - with every part of him, mostly. He still has bad days and nightmares sometimes, but mostly he's just a perpetual twelve year old who doesn't age like his friends do, who sometimes relapses into an accent that hasn't really been heard for more than a couple of decades. He has real memories of three very different lives. But he's okay. He is. (He remembers when he used to say those words and they were lies, but they aren't now. His three psychology degrees and his Masters in Cognition and Perception make him qualified to make this statement.)

"You are going to make a horrible mother. Your children will grow up traumatized and their only comfort in life will be their uncle Del."

They're at the front of the line and Natalie orders a hot mint tea and a chocolate chip muffin. Del looks undecidedly at the menu for a few seconds before ordering the largest mocha coffee they have and a banana nut muffin. He doesn't need the muffin to remind him of his mentor today, but he gets it anyway. Fond memories or something.

"If my children ever call you their uncle Del I'm deleting your number from my phone," Natalie continues as they wait for their orders, but she gives him a fond look anyway. "How's work?"

Del smiles when he thinks of his patients. He always does - if there is one thing he can unequivocally say he's done right since being given whatever number second chance he's on it was going into therapy. "It's going really well. I've got a new patient who is doing very well, considering what they've been through. I think I can really help them." He's thinking about his newest patient - a young child who'd been assaulted and tortured by her family until she started having dissociations to deal with the trauma. This case hits close to home, and he knows he's maybe more invested in this kid than he usually is even by his standards. But. He became a therapist to help people and he's good at it.

He's careful not to give away any specific information - even what he's said much is more than he would share with anyone who wasn't Natalie. He takes his work and his patient's confidentiality seriously, he can't imagine not doing so. Wielding someone else's secrets like that. Natalie smiles again at him because she knows.

"I'm really proud of you, Del." 

He flushes with pride at the statement but luckily their orders are called, so he's saved from saying something equally mushy back. Natalie has been his friend since he first came back to New York fifteen years ago, lost and alone and so suicidal he'd nearly walked in front of a train, except he hadn't been sure it would have killed him. She's almost forty now but she glows in a way that makes her looks years younger. She's Del's favorite person in the world hands down, possibly barring Clint.

They sit and chat for a while, catching up on their life in the two days since they've talked last and giving the new cafe a resounding thumbs up - "even though the name is still stupid who comes up with these things" "shut up Delano". 

"So have you made any new friends - besides your stray cat friend?" Del rolls his eyes. Natalie has been on hi for a while about finding someone to spend his time with romantically lately. Like she thinks he's becoming an old spinster or something. It's not that he doesn't want that it's just. Just he's still got some old doubts and he's comfortable alone, comfortable waiting for the right thing when it comes along. Until then he'll play the casual dating game and just as casually lose their numbers afterwards. 

He shakes his head and doesn't miss her eye roll, but she lets it drop. He's come a long way and they both know it. Natalie finishes her muffin and gets up, admitting reluctantly she really doesn't have time for a longer chat. She has to meet her husband Blake before she heads to yoga and if she didn't legitimately scare him sometimes Del would never let her live down what an aging hipster she is. "Give my regards to Blake," he tells her sincerely and hugs her close before they part. He sits in the cafe for a few more minutes, content and jesus christ he is happy isn't he? No matter how many times he realizes it, it's still a shock after all the time he's spent not happy. 

-

On his way back he makes a detour to a new grocery store, mostly because the one he usually goes to doesn't have any good cat food. He walks home along the pier instead of catching a bus. Brooklyn has and hasn't changed, he loves the commitment to keeping things green and making outdoor gardens everywhere. He's frustrated it comes at the expense of families who have been living there since he did...the first time. 

He and -

In retrospect, he's honestly flabbergasted they haven't run into each other before now, but he looks casually around the park running along the pier and sees Steve Rogers amongst a gaggle of kids with baseball mits and bats. He's not embarrassed he recognizes Steve without seeing his face, after fifteen years. He's still at least partly Bucky Barnes, after all. What he is surprised about is that there's not pain or hurt in his chest. No pain or bad memories or needles in his brain. It's another small check in his mental notebook of things that are good about today. 

He walks slowly to a bench and sits down - he can take the time and he can admit he's curious about what Steve has been up to when he's not Captain America. Del sometimes shakes his head that even after all this time Steve hasn't given up the mantle for more than a few years at a time. Addicted to being needed, that one, says a voice in the back of his head and Del has to agree.

He waits, watches fondly, until all but one of the kids has left. Steve sits with this one kid and talks with the scrawny munchkin for another fifteen minutes, until the kid hops up and grabs his pack, running off. Del gets up and walks over. He's not sure when he decided he wanted to talk to Steve but he's eager in a way he hasn't really been in a long time. 

"Well if it isn't Captain America." He has to struggle not to laugh when Steve whirls around and nearly trips over himself. The picture of grace. 

Steve's mouth forms a few words, none of which he vocalizes, before he regains his composure. Del is still trying not to laugh. "Uh. Jesus. Hey." Steve looks him up and down, unsure. "Wh-uhm. Hey." He's staring somewhat expectantly at Del for a few seconds before Del realizes with a flush of pleasure Steve is waiting for Del to tell him what he wants to be called. He's almost forgotten when he last saw Steve he'd told him to do that. Not to assume Steve knows anything about who he is.

"Del. It's Del." Steve smiles brightly and he looks genuinely happy. There's no sadness or regret that Del can find when he searches his expression.

"It's been. Christ it's been a long time. Are you - how are you?" It's that same genuine tone Del and Bucky both remember Steve always having. Del rolls his eyes, but it's a fond gesture.

"I'm good. I'm. Really good." He's still a little surprised he's talking to Steve and not in pain. That he can actually look at Steve and not feel hollow or inadequate. That he might actually have ridiculous butterflies in his stomach because Steve hasn't changed either. "I stopped at the grocery store on the corner because I have a new cat and the bodega near my house only has shitty cat food." Like he has to explain he wasn't just sitting on a park bench watching Steve teaching a bunch of kids baseball for the simple pleasure of it.

Steve's laugh is maybe another check on that list of good things. Which is weird, because he doesn't know Steve, not really, but he...wants to? "Trying to resurrect the Dodgers?" He doesn't know if that's too familiar. He isn't in pain, but there's a weird balance in his head. He isn't sure what's appropriate when talking to the guy you were in love with, then had wiped from your head, then hated, then, maybe...could have had a crush on again. Then didn't want to see for fifteen years.

"Nah. I've let that dream go." Their eyes meet for a second and there's more to those words and neither of them pretend there aren't. Steve doesn't let them hang though, just states them as simple fact. "I like teaching these kids. They're really great, and they love the game."

It's bright out and he's not hurting and Steve's still fucking gorgeous. That was never really the question, it's still not. "Hey, I've gotta get going or these will spoil-" he holds up the cans of cat food "but do you want to catch up sometime?" He can't hide how relieved he is, no matter how much he likes his life now, to see someone else who hasn't changed with the years that have passed. And he can admit that, maybe, he has actually been lonely. Not like Natalie thinks, but he has been. 

"Absolutely. I'll give you my number? Call me or whatever when you get a chance." Del gets his number, enters it in his phone and grins.

"Great. I will." He's turning away when Steve calls his name and he looks back. Steve's smiling and his face is so, so earnest Del does feel an ache in his chest, but it's not a bad one. It's because every part of him knows what's coming and he's maybe a little bit exasperated at how much Steve hasn't changed, even when he has.

"Thank you, Del. I'm glad we ran into each other." 

Del grins, lifts a hand in goodbye. "Me too, Steve. See you around." 

Definitely a check in the good things that happened today column.