#uhhhhh this is super long and should probably actually be turned into an actual fic

[muirmarie]

[tw: suicidal thoughts, terminal illness, mentions of vomiting]

somehow 3400 words of accidental story???? may edit/rewrite a little and throw up on ao3 idk, but it stands as-is. vaguely mcspirk.

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my father was a betting man

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for the world is hollow and i have touched the sky where starfleet sends a cmo replacement before they go to yonada, and mccoy - mccoy goes back home. where else is he going to go? kirk and spock are throwing him away, aren't they - he'd asked jim to let him stay, but instead he'd - well. it doesn't matter.

he goes home. he goes home to joanna. she's sixteen years old. younger than he was when his father -

he goes home to joanna, and he counts out his months, and he makes a plan for how he's going to put the period on his life, because he's not going to put her through what he went through. he's not going to let her watch him die. he's not going to beg her -

well, it doesn't matter, does it.

he looks in the mirror in the mornings, and he sees his father's face, and he looks at her blue eyes and he wonders if he was ever that young. wonders -

he doesn't reply to any messages from kirk and spock, but he keeps in sporadic contact with uhura and scotty. he doesn't ask them not to pass anything along - he won't do that to them - so he just doesn't tell them anything true. never asks them anything real.

it's just, he thinks. he killed his father, after all. it's just and it's fitting that he goes out like this. but he won't let joanna -

she wants to move in with him and take care of him, and he won't let her. he won't let jocelyn be the bad guy, either, even though she'd let him, he knows. she'd let him tell joanna that jocelyn wouldn't let her. they haven't loved each other in years, but she was there when his dad -

jocelyn would let him, if he asked. he doesn't ask. it's his fault.

he won't let joanna take him to the doctor, won't let her pick up his medications, won't let her stay over in case she hears him throwing up at 3am again, won't let her help with all the sundries that come up when you're slowly wasting away.

he knows she wants to help, knows what he's doing isn't fair, either, but what is fairness when it comes to families? what is fairness when it comes to the memories and the regrets and the forked paths you can never, ever backtrack to.

why did you even come home, she asks, if you weren't going to let me help? she's so angry. she reminds him so much of himself.

what can he tell her? the truth, that he had nowhere else to go? the truth, that he is selfish and he couldn't bear never seeing her again? the truth, that it turns out that he really is his father's son?

that she really is her father's daughter?

he has nightmares, some nights, imagining that this is the great curse on the mccoy family tree. imagining her in thirty years right back here, in this moment, right where he is. he knows how many terminal illnesses there are in this universe. any one of them could have her name on it.

i'll be most effective on the job in the time left, if you'll keep this to yourself

the pain...stop the pain...son...release me...

jocelyn chooses to help more than he's comfortable with, but then she's never listened to him when he said he could handle something on his own. that was never their problem, was it. it's 3am and he's throwing up again and he tries to remember what their problems were, tries to remember why she threw him out, why spock and jim threw him out, why everyone he's ever loved has -

it doesn't matter.

it doesn't matter, does it. how many months does he have left? how many people does he have left that can throw him away? if they're not already gone, at least he will be, soon.

he's written his letters and he's arranged his affairs. he won't let it get as bad it he knows it will get. he won't -

he will not ever let anyone hear him -

he wonders, some nights, what it cost his dad to ask him. thinks about what it had cost leonard himself to ask chapel to stay silent, what it had cost him to ask kirk to let him stay, what it had cost -

he's blocked all avenues of communication from kirk and spock, by now. hasn't answered scotty or uhura for weeks. he'd tried to block chapel, but she -

she shows up on his doorstep six months after he leaves the enterprise. tells him she's taking a leave of absence to care for a family member. tells him, with that steady smile and cautious eyes that she's been in contact with jocelyn. shows him the documentation that she's listed as his next of kin.

jocelyn must have forged that, he thinks. wants to laugh. wants to punch a goddamn wall.

go back to the ship, he tells her, you're gonna fuck up your career taking a leave like this.

i only joined the enterprise to find roger, she says. c'mon, leonard. love always comes first. we only have so much time.

he can see it in her eyes, that she knows why he doesn't want her there. not after his father - he's never told her that, and he knows jocelyn never would. but she's always called him her worst patient. always known he could never let himself be vulnerable. used to chide him about it. used to -

you're not gonna kick me out into the cold, are you? she asks.

you really think i'm gonna let you boss me around my last few months on earth?

3am that night, she runs a cool washcloth across the back of his neck, brings him a glass of water so he can rinse out his mouth, says nothing at the angry, helpless tears in his eyes.

it takes her a week to ask him. she has more patience than he gave her credit for.

you gonna talk to them?

there's only one them for him, isn't there.

there isn't anything left to say, he says. it's the truth, isn't it?

you're really going to keep pushing them away?

they did that on their own, he says. wishes he meant it. wishes he -

let me stay, he thinks. release me, he thinks. don't tell anyone, he thinks. let me help you, he thinks. you've got to hold on, he thinks. let me -

he knows his father loved him. he loved his father, too. loved him so much that he would have given anything -

did. did give everything. gave his father up. gave his father up, and then had to live with it. has been living with it all these years.

he's tired of asking people for things that they can't give him. tired of not asking people for things they want to give him.

tired. just tired. been tired all his life, hasn't he. steeped in it.

looks at joanna's blue eyes, and sees the exhaustion in her. sees his own eyes, doesn't he. sees his own eyes, looking at his father. begging him.

i've done everything i can do. you've got to hang on.

hold on, he thinks. because he begged him, too. begged his father, too. he forgets that part of the story, sometimes, but it's been hard to forget, lately. thinks about joanna kneeling by his body, begging him. begging him to hold on.

why had he asked his father to hold on when he was so desperate to let go? why had he tried to make him stay when he was hurting so badly? was he that scared of being alone?

lonely, he thinks. he's lived a lonely life, hasn't he.

was that the last time he begged someone to stay?

he hadn't begged jocelyn. didn't even ask her to stay, did he. just listened to her, and nodded, and threw his shit together, and kissed joanna on the head, and took off to a hotel.

to a hotel. why hadn't he gone to a friend's? why hadn't he gone to a friend, and sat down, and poured out everything that was going on? why hadn't he asked for help? why hadn't he asked jocelyn for help before things got as bad as they did? maybe there wasn't anything still left to save, but it took them years to be friends again, didn't it. couldn't he at least have left as friends, instead of making them claw their way back to it?

he asks her, one day. she's taking him to the doctor. even chapel isn't able to sway her when jocelyn decides on something, and she's decided she wants to be here for him. so he asks her.

that was one of our problems, she says. says it easy, now, even though her mouth pinches, like it still hurts a little. you never needed me, leonard. never wanted to need me. i always felt like i had to bulldoze you if i wanted to help you, which eventually starts to feel a little counterproductive. and things haven't really changed, have they? you're just too tired to fight me anymore.

he is, he thinks. he is tired.

he is so tired of letting go of things. of being let go of. of running away. of being run from.

a lonely life, he thinks.

thinks, hold on, dad. please don't leave me. please keep fighting. i need you to keep fighting. please don't leave me.

wonders, now, with the benefit of hindsight, what his dad must have thought when he heard him begging. did he think leonard selfish?

is joanna selfish, he thinks. is chapel? is jocelyn?

it's just humans, isn't it. just humans trying to hold on a little longer. don't leave me. don't make me leave.

and then, finally, let me go.

he hasn't told chapel that he's made plans. he should. he can't and he won't. he doesn't need her to -

he doesn't want her to ask him not to do it. he doesn't want her to ask him to stay. to fight. to linger.

nine months since he left the enterprise. he can't focus on the studies that chapel still reads religiously. still looking for answers. he remembers that. he remembers how that feels. he remembers the hope and the hopelessness tangling together.

we have time, joanna says every time they talk. we will have time.

hold on, he thinks. keep fighting, he thinks.

spock and kirk have resorted to sending physical letters and packages.

let me go, he thinks. they pile up in his study, unopened. let me go, let me go, let me -

jocelyn and joanna come over for dinner a few times a week, chapel and jocelyn talking easily together, joanna's eyes too often focused on the way leonard moves the food around on his plate but barely eat. he barely keeps anything down these days. he watches those blue eyes watch him watch her, and he -

are you going to open those letters? jocelyn asks him, and he wants to laugh. wants to cry.

it doesn't matter, he says.

she takes his face in her hands, her eyes serious, her voice steady. it's all that matters, leonard.

she loved him, once. loves him all over again now, he thinks. it's a gift, isn't it, to be loved.

it's a curse, as well.

you're his doctor -

i'm his son!

3am, and there's nothing inside of him to throw up, nothing inside him left to claw out, nothing but his still beating heart, his paper-thin lungs, the last few secrets he's swallowed and never spat out.

he sits down amid the letters and the packages, but can't bring himself to open them. what could it matter, he thinks, if they care? he knows they care. what would it matter, he thinks, if they love him? he knows they love him as best as they're able. what does it matter if they did what they thought was the right thing to do?

he's never going to see them again.

he's never going to see them again, is he. he's never -

it's too much to cry through, so he doesn't cry. just sits there, amid the letters and the packages, the last desperate resort they had to try to contact him. to try to make him listen.

they'd made him leave, so he'd left, hadn't he? hadn't he done what they wanted?

if you'll keep this to yourself -

he hadn't really asked, had he. hadn't been able to bring himself to ask. not the real question. not what he'd really meant.

kirk had given him his answer anyway, hadn't he. hadn't even given it a day before asking for a replacement. that's how easy he was to replace, wasn't he. and they'd found one, and they'd brought them aboard, and mccoy had walked away without looking back.

kirk had wanted to talk, then, too, but what was there left to say? he could count on one hand the number of times he'd really asked kirk for something. he could -

i'll call you, kirk had called after him, and mccoy hadn't looked back. hadn't answer any of his calls. had blocked him. and now, these letters and packages piled around him.

spock had barely said anything at all. mccoy had already been so turned inside out that he'd thought little of it. if kirk didn't want him, of course spock wouldn't want him, either.

besides, if mccoy had a year left, what the logic in spock trying to remain in contact with him? what was a year worth? what was a friend worth? what was mccoy -

it doesn't matter, he thinks. tries to think. tries to will himself to believe. it doesn't matter, because if he lets it matter -

he falls asleep out there, that night. chapel chides him, but she can't do much more than that. he's deteriorating rapidly, now.

he should call them, he thinks for the first time. thinks he doesn't want them to see him like this. remember him like this.

his plans are made. his letters are written. the hypo -

he should call them, he thinks. can't bear to do so.

thinks of his father, begging, thinks of him begging his father.

thinks of kirk's face before mccoy had turned away. the careful blankness of spock's when he'd started to raise his fingers in the vulcan salute, and then bitten back his traditional goodbye. live long and prosper, mccoy snorts. what a goddamn joke.

he should call them, he decides. he'll keep it brief. just long enough that they won't have to haunted by any what-ifs. he can give that to them. he should give that to them. just because he's always been the one who'd loved more than he should doesn't mean they don't love him at all. he knows they do. he knows he's hurt them.

thinks he can swallow down his own hurt one last time, swallow it down long enough to give them the goodbye they need. give them what they need, even if it hurts him to do so.

the pain...stop the pain...son...release me...

he's good at giving people what they need, isn't he. just once -

it doesn't matter. he won't let it matter. not for this. he'll let them go. let them let him go. give them what they need.

he worries over it for one more night, and then he checks his comm. there are too many messages to even glimpse at - it seems like half the enterprise has tried to contact him over the last three days. he worries over that for a moment as well - has something happened? is someone hurt? is someone - well. is someone besides him dying?

he can't take the time to read or watch them now, though. his brain gets too foggy too quickly these days, and he has to use his time to his best advantage.

he unblocks spock and jim.

hesitates over both of their photos for a moment, deciding. not that it matters - they're probably together.

jim will be angrier, but he'll be more hurt if he calls spock first. his head is pounding. his mouth is dry. it will have to be a short call. at least he has that - he can turn it off whenever he wants, escape them any time he wants. there's a universe between them.

they put a universe between them.

he calls jim. waits. almost laughs at the idea that all this build-up, he might not answer. probably can't answer. probably too busy saving the universe.

what was he thinking? that he was going to just sit and wait around for him? kirk didn't even want him there. he didn't - of course he wouldn't -

he's being foolish. he'll try back later. he has time. he still has a little left, doesn't he. a few more weeks. maybe a few months if he's lucky.

he's never been that lucky, has he. the great mccoy curse.

he reaches for his comm, decides not to leave a message, decides -

bones? jim says. his eyes look wild. he looks so young. he looks so old, somehow, too.

hi, jim, mccoy says. his voice sounds steady. his hands are steady.

did they finally get through to you? jim asks. he's speaking so fast it's almost hard to parse the words, or maybe that's just mccoy's tired brain.

what?

the crew, did they finally get through to you? they've been trying non-stop -

i don't know what you're talking about, jim.

that's the house, a voice suspiciously like spock's says. mccoy smiles a little. he knew they'd be together. they've always been at their best together, haven't they. never needed -

just hold on, bones, jim says, and mccoy rolls his eyes. of course. death bed goodbyes, and of course he's being asked to hold. he shouldn't have called. he shouldn't -

why don't you just gimme a call when you're free, mccoy says, trying to keep his voice light. trying so hard it feels like he's choking on the words. choking on the love. choking, choking, choking.

bones -

i should go, mccoy says. got a busy day myself. tell spock i said hi.

tell himself, you goddamn idiot, kirk says.

there's a knock at the door, and mccoy wants to get off of this call, wants to lock himself away, can't beginto deal with whoever is visiting, can't bear to see joanna like this, can't -

i have to go, jim, mccoy says.

there's a louder banging on the door, and mccoy drags a hand across his forehead.

you aren't going anywhere, you sonuvabitch, kirk says

and then someone starts trying to break the goddamn door down, and mccoy bolts to his feet. sways.

sit down, bones, kirk says, his face too close to the screen, his eyes wide and worried, sit down before you fall down and kill yourself

it doesn't matter, mccoy says, barely realizing he's saying it out loud until he hears kirk's sharp inhale

there are footsteps in the hallway

maybe someone's coming to kill him. it makes as much sense as anything else, and he's so tired, isn't he.

keep fighting.

he's just so tired.

hold on.

he slumps back onto the couch. closes his eyes.

i have to go, he says. says it to jim, to spock, to the footsteps coming closer and closer. you have to let me go.

someone sits down next to him. puts their hand on his thigh.

you're not going anywhere, jim says.

and then mccoy frowns, a little. blinks his eyes open.

that voice didn't sound like it was coming from a communicator. that sounded like -

jim is sitting next to him, and spock is moving rapidly around to the other side of the couch. sitting down next to him as well.

what - he says, disoriented. wide-eyed.

afraid.

we have found a cure, doctor, spock says, reaching out and taking mccoy's wrist gently in his hand.

you aren't going anywhere, jim says. i'm not gonna let you.

what are you doing here? mccoy says.

what the hell do you think? jim says, his hand tightening on mccoy's thigh.

leonard, spock says. we are bringing you home.

[etoilesombre]

OK I’M DOING IT. I’m starting over the Fetch Phillips Archives with book one, The Last Smile in Sunder City, and I’m going to yell about it on here extensively because there is absolutely no reason you would be following me other than that you enjoy Black Sails, and I virtually guarantee that if you enjoy Black Sails you will enjoy Sunder City. So I’m dragging as many folks with me as possible into this new brainrot. 

Key Points, without spoilers (from here you should just filter Sunder City as a tag until you’ve read it if you don’t want to see):

1) Luke Arnold can write actually! I avoided these books for so long because I didn’t want to know if he couldn’t, and these were just getting published because he’s an actor. But no. The style is very consciously tongue in cheek Noir, especially at the beginning. It’s not perfect, I do think they get better through the series but this man can turn a goddamn phrase, WOW. 

2) He was working on the first one on the set of Black Sails, and showed Toby Stephens (I think both the Toby’s actually?) drafts. Which just warms my heart so fucking much. As someone who writes, just, that is the most intimate personal thing you can do and I love everything about it. Anyway, you can tell. Which leads us to:

3) The books engage with a lot of the same themes as the show. “Monsters” and who they really are as a concept, most notably, but also stories and how we tell them, how we understand ourselves, and how guilt and trauma inform self concept. And uhhhhh look I’m not SAYING he’s writing silverflint magic AU but... well if you keep following along I will probably be saying that later. 

4) Luke Arnold is radical as fuck. Just. It becomes clear and I love it. 

5) These books are SUPER QUEER ok. Both canonically and implicitly. Queer, monsterfucking, complicated and nuanced. There’s even a hot nonbinary demon. Fetch is sure some type of way, and I have FEELINGS about it that are likely soon going to be fic. 

6) GET THE AUDIOBOOK. if you can at ALL stand audio as a format, it is a completely different experience to the paper books. Truly, his acting skills come through, these are more like an old radio drama than a normal audiobook. As @jaynovz pointed out he doesnt use a ton of dialogue tags and tone indicators because he clearly knows how he would read them and that he’s going to. and that’s fine, it works without, but its a completely different experience with his voice acting. and its basically porn jfc his voice i mean what?

6) All of that said, the level of dysfunction, self loathing, substance use, poor choices, and general disaster is VERY HIGH. I happen to love that, but if you do not, definitely skip it. 

[momowho34]

Time for another naruto au post that so long and complicated it might aswell be a fic in and of itself. Why am I like this :,) Naruto au where Itachi runs away from the village with Sasuke in tow and doesn’t leave him behind. Also Itachi is a little older then a teenager because it makes more sense. Buckle up this is a long one.

Itachi refuses to kill his family and runs to warn them but when he gets there everybody’s dead except for Sasuke, (who witnessed the whole thiNG OOPSY-) so he takes him and runs for their lives.

Itachi joins the akatsuki but uhhhhh now there’s a four year old tagging along and Itachi’s too scary for anybody to mention it.

Imagine the fluff and angst potential with the akatsuki oooooof there’s so much omg

At first they all think it’s super annoying but within like two days they would all gladly die for this kid. Seriously they were pretty sure their hearts were made of stone at this point but apparently not.

Kisame is surprisingly really good with kids, partly because he appears fairly calm on the outside without being too standoffish so Sasuke likes him best. Also Kisame could happily play peek-a-boo for the rest of his life he likes the small things

Kakazu is awful with kids but sasuke likes him anyway and he hates it (not really) Hidan.... really doesn’t know what to do. He’s never cared about another person in his life, okay? He kind of wants to kill the small child but he knows Itachi would steal his fucking knee caps and bury him at the bottom of the ocean so he doesn’t even mention it ever

Sasori is the mom when Itachi isn’t around. They would all feed him candy until he fucking died if Sasori didn’t stop that. Sasori is also the one to go “oh my GOD Deidara you can’t dare him to climb that mountain he could fall and hit his head no I don’t care about that deidaRA HE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD ITACHI IS GOING TO KILL YOU WHEN HE GETS HOME MARK MY WORDS—“

Tobi likes to blame all of his mistakes on Sasuke as a joke. Also they all teach Sasuke bits of their fighting styles so he becomes even more formidable and all of them are kind of freaked out by how quickly he masters their techniques

When he’s too young to tag along on missions he has to stay with Konan and Pain. He really values Konan because she’s really the only one of them who treats him like a person instead of a stupid child that needs protection.

“He costs too much,” Kakazu says. “He shouldn’t be here, what about how much it costs for him to stay with us” all while consistently finding room in the budget to get the kid anything and everything even though he’s fairly low maintenance to take care of

When Itachi arrives, everybody tries to disregard the rumors paired with Sasuke being there. Because of Itachi’s overall demeanor and Sasuke’s refusal to talk about it, they assume that he killed his family but didn’t kill his little brother for some reason

...And then Sasuke starts having nightmares. Like loud, screaming and crying in the middle of the night nightmares. Every time it happens, Itachi wakes up, calm and collected, and holds him until he falls asleep again. They all start having doubts about Itachi really killing his family.

Itachi doesn’t really hold a grudge against Konoha, but he didn’t see the whole family die like Sasuke did. Sasuke wants revenge, and he’s dead set on it.

Okay yeah but what abt the actual plot and stuff??? Don’t worry I’m there.

So a while later after that during Naruto’s three year journey (which he still takes with Jiraiya because he needs training to fight Orochimaru who is still a big threat btw) he meets this weird black haired kid staying at the same hotel he is.

Turns out they’ve both got caretakers who are absent (Jiraiya’s at a brothel somewhere and Kisame and Itachi are off killing some guy) which sucks so they bond over that and compare abilities and beat the shit out of eachother a little and develop a mini rival complex all of that but then

“Wow you’re so cool! You fight just like a ninja! You should come back with me!” Naruto laughs one day. Sasuke asks “Back to where?” And Naruto’s like “back to the leaf village of course! I’m a leaf village ninja, I’m out here training with my sensei! I forgot that I left my headband in the room, I can show it to you.” But Sasuke just gets really pale and runs off and Naruto doesn’t see him for the rest of the trip.

He thought he’d never see him again but then Sasuke gets separated from the Akatsuki members reeeaaaallly far away from their base and Konoha. As he’s trying to figure out what to do, a certain ninja crew happens to be in town. Naruto is like “omfg I know this kid!!!!!!!! Hey Sasuke!!!!! Hey Sasukeeeee!!!!!”

Sasuke is like o-o but then he starts to consider his options. If anybody figures out about his sharingan, he’s straight up fucked. His eyes are gone, he probably gets murdered. Naruto is like “what r u doing here????” And sasuke spins a fairly convincing story

He’s like “oh yeah and I know my way around this place so I can help you out could I maybe seek asylum in your village maybe??? I could be helpful” just so he can head in the general direction of Konoha and hopefully get closer to his base along the way.

So Kakashi begrudgingly agrees and Sasuke tries not to burn alive because he’s in the general proximity of leaf soldiers that he fucking hates and he will not grow attached to any of them at all no siree, not at all, no way!

Sasuke begins to grow close to them, of course. Sai and Sasuke do goth shenanigans and he fights with Naruto and tries to get Sakura to leave him alone (what is up with her why is she being so weird?)

Oh bonus angst: Tobi used to talk in his sleep sometimes, and at some point Sasuke drops “those who break the rules are scum, but those who leave their friends behind are worse then scum” casually and Kakashi almost has a full blown panic attack.

This is when he first realizes something is seriously up with this kid; and his first name sounds... familiar. His suspicions are just suspicions until they run into Orochimaru. Now Orochimaru could just out Sasuke as akatsuki, instead he plays with his feelings a little bit. He keeps saying things like “how does it feel to fight on the same side as your enemies for once?” And “have you forgotten already?” They defeat him without Sasuke revealing his sharingan but the jig is up in Kakashi’s mind.

Kakashi doesn’t quite connect the dots; but he’s almost there. Whoever this kid is, they’re coming back to the village for sure. It’s the safest thing to do. Meanwhile the Akatsuki are freaking out. Itachi is unhinged and almost grieving, they have no idea where Sasuke could be. The team is out in full force; including Tobi

And you know, Obito doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care, nothing matters in this false reality. It just doesn’t. Tobi might have given a shit about Sasuke, but Tobi isn’t real. He’s just a front, Tobi doesn’t exist. So why is he looking so hard for this stupid kid that he shouldn’t give a shit about? Obito convinces himself it’s just a front, it’s just part of Tobi’s act, but it’s not. What’s happening to him? Why is starting to feel things now, so deep into the plan?

Annnnnndddd that’s as far as I got with it lmao. That’s still pretty fucking far tho

[orange-waterfalls]

Just Dance for the Nintendo Wii

Yancy x gn!reader

ty anon for the request!

A/N: Shit was so fun to write I swear. Just Dance was my childhood. I had a thing about memorizing all the dances in all the songs in all the games I got. I also didn’t actually look at the moves in the corner I just watched the dancer lmao. And when I found out other people didn’t do that I just ???it’s so much easier???? I might’ve projected onto Yancy a lil bit. It’s a fun fic! It is a fun and light-hearted fic, I promise. Couple curse words. TW mention of smoking and cigarettes. That’s about it. I think it could be seen as platonic or romantic. Reader does call him “babe” at one point but I call my friends darling and sweetie so I think it’s fine. Might be a few typos since I never read through my fics lmao. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

Lunch ended and you immediately shot up out of your chair, making your way down the hall. Your friends stared after you, slightly offended you didn’t even bother saying goodbye. You would have any other day, but this was important.

You stomped your way to the warden's office, pushing past the guards who mostly just gave you confused looks. You would have made your way around them, asking them to make some room, but this was important. 

You kicked the door open and stomped up to the desk. The warden jumped and put a hand over his heart. You were not an aggressive person. Really, you weren’t. But this. This was important. This was the most important thing you ever came up with.

“Jesus, child, you ever heard of knocking?” He breathed, exasperated. He looked like he was gonna keep talking, so you slammed your hands on his desk. A few months before, he probably would have had you thrown in solitary for even walking in there. But you’re a good person, and you behave for the most part. So he raised an eyebrow and waited for you to make whatever point you wanted to make.

“Wii,” you said, simply. He blinked a couple times.

“Beg pardon?” He laughed. You were on a bit of a power trip and wanted to respond with “then beg”, but the conversation probably would have ended there. You made it this far without breaking down, you couldn’t stop now.

“I want a Wii,” you said, slowly. The warden squinted at you before chuckling a little. You glared daggers at him. Laugh at you, will he?!

“Now, kiddo, that ain’t--”

“Shut up. I don’t care. I just need you to listen.” He gave you a look and leaned back in his chair. You quieted for a moment, thinking about exactly what you were gonna say. You honestly hadn’t thought you’d make it this far.

“Go ahead, I’m a busy man,” He shook you out of your thoughts. You squared your shoulders.

“Yancy likes to dance,” you stated. You stared at each other in silence for a moment as you prepared your words in your head. He waved his hand, telling you to keep going. You cleared your throat, “Yancy likes to dance… and we don’t have access to the internet.”

“And you’re not going to.” He warned.

“Yeah, yeah, I figured…” You sighed. “But that’s not what I’m here for.” He knitted his eyebrows together in intrigue.

“Alright…” He leaned forward, arms on his desk.

“Yancy can’t keep coming up with songs and dances when he gets bored. It takes a long time, and he’s getting burned out. I think that if we had another- if we had access to prepared dances and songs, it’d be better.” You stuttered. That’s okay. As long as he was listening. “I think if we had a… a game, a dancing game. Like Just Dance on the Wii or something, then we’d be better. Happier? I mean, we’re happy, but… more-more happy. There’s never… too much… happy…” You lost yourself towards the end there. You started shaking a little as the whole situation hit you like a train. What the hell were you doing? This is a PRISON, not a middle school. Why would they want you to be happy? Oh, this was a stupid idea… no. You made it this far. Sure this was stupid, but you were NOT going to back down. Not until you got a-

“Ok.”

“Huh?” You asked, dumbfounded. You stared at Mr. Murder-Slaughter, and he stared right back. “What’d you say?” He stood up from his desk and walked over to you. You fought the urge to book it and stood your ground. You puffed up your chest a little to look intimidating. From the smirk he got on his face, it wasn’t working.

“I said, ok.” Your shoulders dropped and you let out a shaky breath.

“Really? I mean… really?” 

“Sure, why not. Boosts morale, stops people from wanting to escape.” He shrugged. You stood there, mouth agape, probably looking like a moron.

“Thanks.” You murmured. He smiled at you, and you smiled right back. He took your shoulders and spun you around towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah, now get outta here! You’ve got dishes to do!” He pushed you out, and you gave him one last smile before running down to the kitchen. He watched you trip over your own feet and shook his head. You ran past a guard, who heard the noise and got confused.

“What the hell was all that?”

“Fuck around and find out!”

---

You startled awake to the sound of talking coming from outside your cell. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, not seeing your cellmate. You sighed and managed to lift yourself up out of the bed. You stretched and heard your back crack in several places. That sounded… worrying to say the least, but you had other things on your mind. For example: where was everyone?

You made your way through the prison, eventually ending up in the common room where everyone was talking over each other excitedly. 

“Sorry, forgot to set the alarm!” A guard apologized. You nodded at him. You turned and saw Tiny and slid over next to her.

“What’re we doing? Is it Thursday already?” You whispered.

“Nah, warden bought a game system,” she answered. You stared at her, mouth open slightly. “Keep staring at me we’re gonna fight.”

“Uh, sorry.” You blinked and looked forward, standing on the tips of your toes to try and get a better look. “What gaming system?”

“A Wii. Warden said we each get 30 minutes per week.” She explained. She then waited for you to respond. You didn’t.

“Dude, you alright?” She gently reached out and shook your arm.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m good.” You mumbled. “He buy any games yet?”

“Uhhhhh Super Mario Bros, Kirby’s Epic Yarn, Animal Crossing, Smash…”

“Mm-hm, mm-hm, as he should.”

“I think those Wii Sports games…”

“Just Dance?”

“Don’t know. Said to talk to him if there’s a game you want.” You nodded and gave her a small fistbump before walking over to the warden, who stood away from the group. You leaned over and saw BamBam and Sparkles in a heated game of Smash Bros. You stood next to the warden and watched.

“So, you actually listened to my request?” You looked up at him in slight disbelief.

“Course I did. Why not? Like I said, boosts morale.” He smiled. You nodded and you both looked forward again.

“How much was it?” You inquired.

“$100 on eBay.”

“Deadass?!”

“Absolutely. Great condition, too. Been used before, but not necessarily broken.”

“Come with the games?” “Some. Had to tell the guy I was buying it for my foster kids for him to give them to me. Them along with the Wii is what made it $100.” He explained

“So, we’re your kids now?” You snickered.

He only answered with a hum. You looked at him, blinking rapidly. 

“What?” He said in a defensive tone.

“Nothing! Don’t worry about it!” You waved him off. He crossed his arms in a huff but dropped it.

“Buy Just Dance?”

“In the back. Saving it for when Yancy shows up.”

“Shows up? He’s not here?” “No. He went to the yard when everyone gathered here.” You hummed and looked down, thinking.

Why did Yancy leave? Did he not care about it? Did he not want to play? That would complicate things a little…

“Instead of speculating, why don’t you go ask him?” He scoffed. You looked at the warden, scandalized.

“You’re an easy person to read, child.” He set a hand on your shoulder. “He might be out in the yard.” You sighed and walked away from the cheering crowd as BamBam pumped his fists triumphantly and Sparkles fell to his knees.

---

You opened the door to the yard, peeking out to see if anyone was there. Lo and behold, there he was, Yancy, sitting on the grass having a smoke. You walked over to where he was and plopped down next to him. He jumped a little, but breathed harshly once he saw it was you.

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” You queried, softly.

“Hm.” He grunted in response.

“Everyone’s inside… having some fun…”

“Hm…��

“I think Jimmy might play Animal Crossing…”

“Hm.”

“Yancy, what’s wrong?” You sighed and turned your body towards him a little.

“Nothin’, nothin’s wrong.” He lied. “C’mon, man, we both know that’s a lie.” You tilted your head to look at him. He avoided your eyes.

“Yancy.” You said sternly. He faltered a little hearing your concern. He glanced at you. Your eyes softened. “What’s wrong?”

“Is just… I never really gots to play games when I was young… and… I dunno… don’t know… how to...” He mumbled. You nodded in understanding, shifting until your shoulders were touching his. You stared at the fence while Yancy kept smoking. You tried not to cough when he exhaled his smoke, but you couldn’t help it. He looked at you apologetically before putting the cigarette out on the grass. You both sat there for a little, enjoying each other’s company. 

“So…” you breathed out after a little while. He turned to you with an eyebrow raised. “You’re upset because you don’t know how to play the games?”

“‘N I’ll look stupid while playing ‘em, yeah.” He finished with a scoff. A smile grew on your face.

“I know a game that’ll be really easy for you…” you sang. He furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“...what is it?” He hesitated. You bit your lip to keep from giggling as he looked at you worriedly.

---

“Wait, so… the hell is Just Dance?” Yancy scratched his head as you led him back to the common room. It was late, and everybody else was back in their cells. You convinced a guard to let you out by pretending you were gonna cry.

“It’s a game where you dance,” You said in a condescending tone. “Come on, Yance, use deductive reasoning.”

“I’on even know what that means,” He argued playfully. You brought him to the small TV, handing him a remote as you turned it on.

“It just… There are songs with dances prepared, and you have to do the dances as you see them on screen. Got it?” You looked up at Yancy, who was busy staring at the glowing screen of the tv. It was on the Wii home menu, so there wasn’t much to see. However, to Yancy, it was one of the coolest things he’d ever seen.

“Whoa whoa whoa, wassat?” He pointed at the screen and jumped a bit when he saw the cursor move as he moved the remote. He shifted it over until it was on the Mii Channel.

“Uh… that’s the place where you can make a little avatar of yourself. It works on some of the games, but not Just Dance.” You explained. “...you wanna make a Mii?” He pouted and gave you puppy dog eyes. You rolled your eyes and stood up, bringing your Player One cursor on the screen and clicking the channel. 

You told Yancy the mechanics, how to change everything, and what to do once he was done. You made your own Mii, explaining everything along the way, and told him to make his once you were done. Yancy, being the creative boy he is, spent half an hour on his Mii, trying to get everything perfect. You just stood next to him, trying not to yawn. Like I said, it was late. Eventually, he finished and you both got to see your Mii’s next to each other, along with some other people’s. He kept dragging his over next to you, trying to force them to interact. He got very upset when you told him they couldn’t hug or anything. He let you exit out of the channel and go into Just Dance. 

“Any particular song?” You scrolled through the songs, letting them play for a couple seconds so he could know what each was like. 

“Stop!” He called. “Go back.” You scrolled back to the last song you let play.

“Britney Spears? Serious?” You teased. It was all in good fun, you loved her too. Who wouldn’t?

He grumbled a little to himself. It sounded a little like “not my fault her songs bop”. You breathed out a chuckle and clicked the song, whisper-singing the lyrics as you did.

“My loneliness is killin’ me… Blue, green, orange, or pink?” You asked. After not getting an answer, you looked at Yancy to see the problem. He was frowning at the screen. “Yance?”

“Why’re they all girls?”

“Because it’s a traditionally girl-ish song.”

“I’m not a girl.”

“I know you’re not. Just pick a color.”

“Why are they cheerleaders?”

“Because they can be. Yancy, pick a color.”

“But why-”

“Yancy I swear to God pick a fucking color.” He hummed and then picked blue. You picked green.

You got into the same stance as the girl on the screen, and Yancy copied you. The music started up, and you started dancing. Yancy seemed a bit startled as he hurried to copy you. He wheezed out a little laugh, flailing his arms a little, trying to figure out what move you were on. You bit your lip to not laugh at him. You both kept going, and Yancy eventually got into the rhythm. He stuck his tongue out in concentration and you stared for a moment, not believing how adorable he was. Then you remembered that there was a winner in this game so you shook your head and kept dancing. 

Eventually the song ended, and you both breathed a little harder than normal. You looked at your scores, and found that you'd won. You clapped your hands and cheered. Yancy crossed his arms.

"Whatever, this is my first time!" He scoffed. But you could see the smile on his face. You stretched your arms and yawned, turning the Wii off and leaving the remote.

"Welp, we should get back--" you turned to head towards your cell.

"No!" Yancy stood in front of you. You tried to go around him, but he kept blocking your way. He grabbed your shoulders and held you in place.

"I want a rematch."

"Yancy, it's late…" you whined.

"Just one more! Please?" He pleaded. He, again, gave you those puppy dog eyes you could never say no to. You sighed loudly, grabbing the remote again and turning the Wii back on.

"I don't understand why you can't do this yourself…" you mumbled, clicking on Just Dance again.

"I… like spending time with you," he said softly. You squinted at him.

"You'd feel awkward dancing alone, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"Fine."

"Ooh! Let's do--"

"Nah, nah, nah. You're keeping me up. I get to pick the song."

"...'This is Halloween'?"

"Bet your ass."

"But that--"

"Shut it, Yancy, I'll leave."

"Okay! Sorry… 

"..."

"...can I be the pumpkin?"

"Of course you can be the pumpkin, babe."

---

You woke up really tired in the morning. You didn't know when you got back to bed, but the guard that let you out was asleep by the door when you arrived. You didn't even consider escaping, you were so tired. You just entered the cell and shut the door behind you.

In the morning, you got up and dragged yourself into the common room again. Everyone was playing the Wii again. You rubbed your eyes and stood next to Tiny.

"Fuck happened to you?" She scoffed.

"Yancy happened…" you yawned

"Ah. Long night, huh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Ye-no. Wait, what? No, gross. We played Just Dance."

"Oh, was it fun?"

"For the first couple. The rest I was way too tired to be happy about…"

"Aw, did wittle baby need theiw nap?" She teased.

"I'm not wi-little! I'm not-I'm not little! Shut up!" You complained as she laughed.

"Well, Jimmy played Wii tennis against a guard. Now he's playing the warden."

"Seriously? Oh my God."

"He's currently the reigning champion."

"Who's going against him next?" You hear a thud, like someone fell.

"Got-dang it!" Mr. Murder-Slaughter yelled.

“That’d be me,” She patted you on the back before walking up next to Jimmy. Mr. Murder-Slaughter passed her as she walked, limping. He stood by you.

“You seem to be having fun.” You teased.

“Ah, shut it…” He growled and rubbed his arm. “How’s Yancy?” 

“He’s good. He likes the game a lot.” You explained.

“I’d hope so, otherwise there was no reason to buy this thing.” He scoffed.

“Eh… I dunno about that…” You listened to Tiny laugh loudly from where she stood in front and smiled. You turned your head a little and saw Yancy leaning against the opposite wall. You caught each other’s eyes. He nodded his head to the Wii. You shrugged and walked up. He did the same. 

Once Tiny and Jimmy were done with their match, Jimmy keeping his title as champion, you and Yancy walked up to the wii, taking the remotes and clicking Just Dance. 

“What song should we do?” You scrolled through the list.

“Avril Lavigne!” Someone yelled from the back of the room. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was, but kept it to yourself. 

“Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne it is!” You clicked the song.

“Uh… I don’t know this song, bud,” He whispered to you. You clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh you’re gonna love it.”

“I’m not sure I like that look.”

“Calm down, it’ll be great.”

“Okay… can i be the punk girl?”

“I wanna be the punk girl…”

Cue the puppy eyes…

“...fine, you can be the punk girl.”

[atmilliways]

69 please?

Answering fic prompts a millions billions days later; that’s just how I roll. Prompt list is here... This one is “Skwisgaar, humiliation.”

~*~

He found out later what had actually happened, about the front Toki had put up to save face during the whole Caroline thing. Nathan told him, after, but by then it was, well. After.

Before that Skwisgaar had been so sure of the whole LadyMates thing was complete dildos and it would only take Toki one date to figure that out. Who wanted to commit to just one person when there are so many willing groupies at every concert and, for that matter, anywhere else they went?

So he was shocked when he heard Pickles slur something vague about a second date and a hotel room. The shock of it gradually turned into a simmering anger that it never occurred to him he didn’t understand. Stupid Toki at his stupid ideas about stupid monogamy, when it was clear from experience that any woman would spread her legs for any famous person she could get in the bed and until hitting the GMLF stage would try to get her claws in for child support. Plus, a lot of women could get pretty crazy about getting married before they turned thirty. No self-respecting man would give a shit about getting married by a certain age — which only proved, in Skwisgaar’s mind, that to think that way was to be fucking insane, like a lady.

Why did Toki want to be insane like a lady?

Then, because he was fucking pissed off, Skwisgaar decided that if Toki wanted to be like a lady, he could get fucked like one too.

… He been hanging out with Pickles again so the booze and weed might’ve had a vote in that decision.

It wasn’t until well after midnight that Toki arrived home. Skwisgaar had left strict instructions with the servants to let him know when that happened, no matter what he was doing, and once he was paying enough attention to realize the reason the conveyer belt-like line of horny women had been interrupted he wasn’t even mad. Not at the messenger, anyway, who had been thoughtful enough to bring a warm washcloth for him to clean up with before yanking his jeans up from around his ankles and stomping off to the Toki’s room.

The wait was a long one. Skwisgaar had plenty of time to contemplate the best way to confront the rhythm guitarist, and eventually settled on hiding in the closet and leaping out with a yell of Ah-has! when that two-timing— No, wait, what? When that stupid, not-practicing-guitar idiot came in. He folded himself in there, pulling down a fair amount of clothes to make an appropriately padded seat.

He was asleep before his ass even had time to go numb. It had been a long week of slut-banging and pantie-collecting to win that bet he’d made with Murderface.

The sound of a door slamming woke Skwisgaar up with a start, followed by an impressive string of curses in a jumble of Norwegian and English that cut through the lingering confusion of waking suddenly in a dark space that smelled like model airplane glue and feet. Toki. Groggy enough to still be pissed, even though the details of why were slow to follow, Skwisgaar yanked the closet door aside and launched himself out into the room.

“AH-HAS!”

He was vindictively gratified to see Toki jump about a foot in the air before the other man’s flailing punch caught him square in the nose and sent him reeling right back in where he’d come from.

“Whats the fuckings hells you ams doing in theres?” Toki screeched somewhere beyond the painful fireworks going off behind the Swede’s eyelids.

“Uhhhhh?” Skwisgaar tried. He touched his nose gingerly — yep, absolutely broken. Then he touched the back of his head, which he’d cracked against the back of the closet wall — not broken, but he was probably in for one hell of a goose egg soon. Blinking to clear his tearing vision, he finally noticed that one of Toki’s arms was in a sling, bruises all over, and he had the unfocused look of a man on pain medication. “Whads, uh… Whads happed to yous?”

“I jumps out a hotel windows to escapes a crazy bitch! That’s am whats. … It was supers traumatic, I’m going to need some serious sick days from this shits what am to recovers.” Toki started down at the lanky blond sprawled on his closet floor for a moment, then offered him a hand up with his good arm.

“Yous… Didn’d you had a big lady dates to goes to?” Skwisgaar asked, staring stupidly at the offered hand.

Toki looked at him like he might be intentionally stupid, then grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him to his feet that way. “That was the dates, dumb dildo. Dids I gives you the cons-cushion or somesthing?”

“Uhhhhh… probablies,” Skwisgaar muttered. He felt slow, sluggish, and very, very foolish. Not only had the surprise confrontation gone spectacularly poorly, he had completely lost track of why he’d felt it so necessary in the first place. Plus, now he needed to go to the Mordland hospital. Greats job, Skwigelf.

“Fucks.” Toki sighed and sat down on his bed to pull his boots back on, the boys of his outfit he’d had time to remove before his bandmate’s surprise appearance. “Okays, hospital times for Misters Horts-Himselfs. Don’t worries, I thinks Murderface am stills in there for a brokens dick, so you won’ts be alones tonight. I guess you wins the bet.”

“As if dere was addy doubts,” Skwisgaar mumbled, prodding at his rapidly swelling nose again. That got him a bit of a smirk, and am offered pain pill that he automatically took and dry-swallowed. He also accepted Toki’s support as they made their way out into the hall. “Ad least I cad still plays. What’s you break, collarsbone?”

“Nopes, it was a really good landings actually, I just sprains the arms. Should heal pretty quicks.” Toki snickered a little. “Will be’s a lots longer til Murderface plays bass with hims dick agains. Thinks he’ll gets any worse ats it afters this?”

“How coulds he?” Skwisgaar shot back, and felt almost good about all the crazy turns this night had taken. And sure, he knew Toki well enough to know that the other guitarist would give him shit about the whole thing for a while, which was embarrassing, but also kind of okay.

At least Toki’s date was a bust and he would be the center of attention again.

[amazingspiderfan110]

What If pt 1

This is the what if dewey became spiderman, but in extra detail. Takes place after this other fan-fic https://www.wattpad.com/653834340-the-show-must-go-on-dancing-in-the-dark/page/3 and https://www.wattpad.com/story/148178722-reservation-for-four, The only difference is at the dance, before dewey fell into the shark tank, he got bit by the spider, and the age is 10 instead of 12. And takes place after the shadow war.

Story:

Dewey’s pov:

Tonight, im going to win big. I found a wrestling match on the internet, and i need a cool suit, I have a general idea of what my powers were, I can stick on walls, spider sens, which is why i suspected Vincent was evil, increased durability and healing, which explains why i didn’t die in that plane crash in the Sahara, and i found out i had super strength recently. So i knew my outfit had to be spider themed. I started to brainstorm, I wanted to hide my face, so i need a mask, no, i look weird in a mask, I GOT IT,, i can wear a hoodie, add some goggles, and get a black bandanna, and use it as a mouth cover. I should add a webbing pattern on the suit, and It should be blue and......Black, yes. Now I just need to make the suit, But how? Luckily im the nephew of scrooge mcduck. SO i go out and buy what i need, took me 6 hours, but i made the suit, the lenses were the easiest, i just got lenses, put a black frame on it and and some mesh so i can see out, but no one can see in. I go out to the fight. I won easily but instead of winning 25k, i won 250 dollars. His excuse, i won quickly, if anything i should have won extra money, he can get robbed for all i care, and that’s what happened, I let the robber pass me, its not like its going to backfire anytime soon.

I start walking home, not a care in the world, i snuck back in my room, and changed to my normal clothes, and walked downstairs, everyone was crying, but why.. Then that’s when i learned the truth, uncle Donald was killed. I couldn’t believe it, you sure, yes, it was, and whoever killed him was going to pay. I put on my suit, and tracked down the killer. I wanted one thing, payback, i threw him around, and kicked him around, i wanted to hear his pain, and i decided to turn on a light to see his fear, i wanted to see his pain, then i realized something, it was the guy that robbed the man that robbed me of my cash, i could've stopped him, but i didn’t. It was my fault uncle Donald was dead, my fault.

“GAH”

I woke up, i got hit with some knock-out gas, why, because i was fighting a rouge group of beagle boys who are attempting to steal the diamond-jewel thing that mark beaks stole a 2 1/2 months ago during Huey's camping trip. And they hit me mid air, i tried a sneak attack from above, but they saw me coming, luckily i was very high, so i woke up just in time, now to stop them.  The truck was surrounded by 4 cars, so i decided to break in one, and crash it into another car, and the other 2 i just threw 2 spears into their tires. Now for the main attraction. I jumped on the truck, and i knocked on the window and he had the smart idea to look so i punched him in the face.I Threw him out and stopped the truck. Then I noticed the driver was getting away, I had the smart idea because when i caught up with him, he had a weapon, i dodged every single bullet, and webbed him up. And OH CRAP, i missed my presentation at school, and i was supposed to help webby practice her paper about hope, well i decided to ditch school completely. Besides, i would only give her a bunch of stammering, DANG SCROOGE, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SAY I HAVE A CRUSH ON HER, i was perfectly fine not knowing about my crush on her. You would think after the Vincent incident i would have told her, well thanks to my life as spider man and me being nervous. But  as a bonus, my powers did get me out of tough situations during our adventures. But im also distancing myself from my best friend, i hope she did fine on her presentation.

webbys pov

Its over, i went up there and did my presentation, how ironic that a simple speech can make me nervous, but not a city crumbling while you are still inside. But im sort of thankful that Dewey didn’t show up. I would have gave him awkward silence. I developed my crush a week after the Vincent incident, and dewey was acting like himself again, then a week later and he constantly keeps on disappearing. Except if we are going on adventures of course, maybe it was Donald’s death. But I dismissed that theory quickly, because he would have told me, RIGHT?  But when i tried to talk to him, he quickly walks away. Maybe he still has a grudge after 2 months, maybe, I was kind of a jerk to him. I tried asking him but he always says “have to check on something” or “can we talk about this later. He didn���t make any dewey dew-night videos, something is off with him. “you did great”said my best friend Lena, “thanks, im just upset dewey didn’t get to see it”

“Its ok, i decided to film it”said Huey

“thanks”

But why did dewey leave, this is the 3rd time he ditched school. But then again, this place is crazy, Gandra dre is Now known as Doctor Octopus. Mark Beaks built his own waddle duck suit, glomgold returned, And the sky pirates attempted to take over Duckberg. This place is crazy, and on top of that, a shadow army attacked this place, and spiderman, he saved my life once. He is a true hero, I would literally go out whoever was under that mask, even if he had a deformed face. And if he was her age. And where does dewey go.

Dewey's pov

Great, I forgot I was supposed to get a shovel for Huey today, I don’y know why, but I think he is trying to earn another badge, And he couldn't get his own? I luckily brought my clothes so i can walk in the store. I bout the shovel and its 3:30, school should be out. So i start walking home. I beat everyone to the mansion. I climb in my window, and i see my photo of mom. I knew what she did, Mom and dad crashed o the moon, i didn’t know why they even did that. Maybe she learned something she wasn’t supposed to and people wanted to use that info to create some sort of weapons, probably. At least my parents loved me. Webby’s parents just abandoned her, feeling no guilt, for all i care, they could be stuck inside a volcano, or maybe they did care but they were threatened and  were forced to go into hiding. I dont care.Then Huey walked in,”Here is webby’s speech, i taped,” Huey tossed me a SD card “Thanks”I responded,”and here is your shovel”I handed Huey his shovel”thanks”

“don’t mention it”

“also, where were you, this is the 3rd time you ditched, can you explain what you were doing”

“UH, i....was.....”

“you like webby, don’t you”

“WhY WoUlD YoU SaY ThAt”

“it all makes sense, you get sweaty around her which started about 2 months ago”

the first 2 weeks was because of the spider bite

“your face would turn red, and you tried to avoid talking to her”

actually 50% of the time was because im trying to make sure this city wont blow up

“and when you do talk, you stammer”

“WHAAAAAA, no i don’t”

“yes you do, just admit it”

“OK FINE, i do like webby, but what if this destroys our friendship”

“at least be honest, now if you excuse me, im going to, uhhhhh”

“talk to lily”

“nooooo......yes”

“its ok, louie already told me”

“WHAAAA”

Huey ran downstairs, i heard a how could you, and a dead to me, but as a bonus, Huey will probably tell me one of Louie's secrets. So that’s a win. But how should i tell webby how i feel, heck i feel so nervous around her, my spidey sense registers her a threat and goes off when she is around. And my spidey sense was going off.

“Hi dewey”

“Oh, hi webby”

“so....i just wanted to know why are you so distant around me, its like your’e holding a grudge against me”

“what, no”

“well then, what is it”

I cant tell her, not now, I KNOW

“meet me in the forrest at 7 in the afternoon tomorrow”

“Ok”

YES, I did it, and the best part is that I can also tell her I’m spider man. Its going to be awesome

Webby’s pov

tomorrow at 7 in the forests, finally i will know what dewy’s been up to, and if I get the chance, i will tell him how i feel, I walked in barley to contain myself. “What now”said lena

“I.....Talk.....Dewey”

“your’e going to tell him you have a crush on him, or he is going to tell you”

“yep”

“what if he doesn’t like you”

“then we can probably be friends”

“probably”

“Have you tried to tell someone how you felt”

“Uh........not exactly”

“who was it”

“uhhhhh”

“SPIT IT OUT”

“OK OK, right after glomgolds party i-”

“say it”

“I-....I kissed Louie”

:WHAT”

“i know, and i do like him, and he might like me, well yeah he does, in 2 days, were going to hang out”

I never knew lena actually did that, and the fact that she was able to keep it hidden for so long.

“webby, question, is there any good movies coming out yet”

“uhhh, Thor Ragnarok, Iron duck 3″

“Is that the one with that new song ready aim fire”

“Yep”

“ill take louie to see that”

I can’t believe it, im helping 2 of my friends go on a date, this world is crazy, but at least we have spiderman and gizmoduck to help us.

louies pov

I’m just sitting here playing video games, while listening to a song lena suggested, and its catchy

**

I am a freedom fighter, the name that history wrote And even through disaster, eye of the tiger for hope I'm trying to find my way back, there's no day off for heroes And even when I'm tired, gold is the only word i know And the night is takin' over And the moonlight gets exposure And the players have been chosen And it seems like fate has spoken When it seems your faith has broken By the second, losin' focus Ain't no way to get off, get off, get off, get off Unless you I bet you wonder how I go on                                                                              ****l simply say its on again, its on again **

, Its stuck in my head, and its weird that the singer sounds like lena, i heard her sing when she was in the bathroom. But then all of a sudden i hear webby

“FINALLY”

“What now webby”

I found Magica’s Amulet”

“didn’t that thing almost kill us

“its not like there is more of these”

Then Huey walks in screaming,”GUYS, I FOUND SOMETHING”

we walk outside to see a box with 3 amulets that look like magica’s, except they were green, blue, and red.

“you jinxed it”

“I know Louie”

“we should take this to gyro”

We asked launchpad to drive us to the other bin, then we entered the lab,

“Gyro, we need you to look over these amulets and see what they do”

“why”

“we want to know if these would kill us or not”

“Fine, i’ll have results by tomorrow”

“thanks”

This is crazy, my life is crazy, I mean crazy. Me and lena, were not a couple, i think. I know, Ill ask tomorrow if we should be a couple. 

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

2016 Fanfiction Round-Up

Copied this fanfic round-up from @veliseraptor​ because I’m always a sucker for this kind of thing and I pretty much always do some kind of fic retrospective. Also I’m only doing this on AO3, not counting FFN.

Total Year-Long Wordcount: The unfortunate thing about my inability to finish stuff in a reasonable time frame means that there’s probably a big difference between how much I wrote last year and how much I actually posted. On the other hand, something like half of “the kindness of strangers” was written prior to this year and I’m still counting everything I posted, so whatever. Adding it all up, I posted 67,504 words on AO3 (minus “adventures of tiny Loki and Thor”), but my dubiously accurate 2016 document contains 97,000 words, so...my actual wordcount for the year is probably around 85,000.

This year I wrote and posted: 16 fics, of which 3 have more than one chapter, and 53 new “adventures of tiny Loki and Thor” posts 

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I didn’t set a word-count goal of any kind, so...I don’t know? I’d say I did okay, although now that I’m looking at it, I feel like I should have finished/posted even more short fics than I did, which is...not a super helpful way to look at things.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Maybe the “I got pissed about Hydra Cap” one, considering I sure didn’t see that asinine “twist” coming. I also didn’t really expect I’d write so many Avengers Academy fics, although maybe I should have. Of course, those are still both Marvel. Probably the only really out-there fic was flailing in the deep, for @markiplier‘s Slime Rancher and Subnautica videos. 

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? Overall, I think I’d have to say under bright stars burning--I struggled a lot with that one too, partly because it was so different from anything I’d written before (taking place over a long period of time, with two characters gradually developing a relationship, and a somewhat more meandering plot than normal because of that; plus most of it was set in the past, requiring a lot more research than usual), and I spent a lot of the writing process sure I was producing absolute garbage, but I ended up being really satisfied with it. I think it has a good arc, with vignettes that work well individually, and based on the comments, I think I did a good job writing Steve’s voice, using gradually maturing word/style choices for different life stages, and showing how he and Loki fit well together. I don’t know, I just like it a lot. 

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? Taking the plunge and committing to one of my long-term WIPs (the kindness of strangers) for Marvel Big Bang, I suppose. I learned, uh, that trying to wrestle a story I wrote in disconnected chunks over 2+ years is agonizing but more or less possible? 

From my past year of writing, what was….

My most popular story of this year: Not counting the adventures of tiny Loki and Thor, my fic with the most kudos was the state of my head (228), followed by “under bright stars burning” (178), Metal Gear Widow (137), and “the kindness of strangers” (131). By comments, it’s pretty much the same but in a different order: “the kindness of strangers” (58 comment threads), “under bright stars burning” (32), and “the state of my head” (16). If you go by percentage of kudos to hits, it’s “the state of my head” (13%), “the kindness of strangers” (12%), I’m your national anthem (12%), and “under bright stars burning” (10%). Also I’m sure that’s way more than anyone wanted to know. 

Most fun story to write: Maybe “the state of my head”; I got inspired by a prompt, it all came together quickly, and I knocked it out in a weekend. Writing from Tony’s POV was fun, too. “flailing in the deep” was another one where I got to be funny.

Story with the single sexiest moment: Literally the only semi-explicit sex scene (by which I mean, I didn’t fade to black but I also didn’t describe specific body parts) I’ve ever written was for let your colors bleed and blend with mine (Crimson Peak, Thomas/Edith) and that was right at the end of 2015 so it doesn’t quite count. Otherwise there’s a kissing scene in “under bright stars burning” but it’s...not very sexy...

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:  uhhhhh. well, “the kindness of strangers” probably has the most/nastiest Loki whump I’ve posted on AO3 thus far, to the point that I think a few readers were surprised, so I suppose there’s that??

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I hadn’t really written Steve before “under bright stars burning” and that ended up being a reasonably long fic all from his POV, at different points throughout his life, so writing that one definitely gave me a better sense of him as a character. 

Hardest story to write: Gonna have to go with “the kindness of strangers,” which should be obvious to anyone who noticed me screaming about Marvel Big Bang for the last several months. 

Biggest Disappointment: I’m not great with deadlines, as everyone probably knows, so pretty much every time I sign up for anything with a deadline, I end up causing myself a lot of stress and just barely squeaking in under the wire, often with less of a story than I originally planned, or actually a little bit after the deadline in one way or another. I’ve often been especially bad about this with Yuletide, posting an unfinished placeholder on the deadline and then getting it actually done before reveals; way back in 2011, I never did get it done and they had to send it out for a pinch hit the night before reveals, and I still feel bad about that (and keep intending to go back to the fic I was trying to write). This year I got caught doing it again and although I did end up posting a complete story, I’m definitely not happy with it because it’s like...one third of the story I meant to write. I still intend to finish it, but the fact that I didn’t is frustrating. 

Biggest Surprise: Nothing comes to mind.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: I’ve written exactly two Marvel-related fics that aren’t about Loki, and they’re both about Steve, one where he’s progressive and mad at the whole world, and another where Avengers Academy Steve realizes he’s on the aro/ace spectrum. That probably says something.

Favorite Opening Line(s):

At this point, Tony is running almost entirely on adrenaline and good old-fashioned Stark bravado (patent pending), so he’s pretty much prepared for things to go completely to shit at any second. The particular variety of shit remains to be seen, but honestly, shit is shit and he’s mostly just banking on JARVIS deploying the new suit before Loki switches from talking to shooting. (the state of my head)

“What the fuck is this?” (I’m your national anthem)

Dorian was worried about the Inquisitor. This was hardly unusual, to be fair; in fact it was so far from being a new state of affairs that when Dorian wondered briefly what it would be like to live without at least a vague background worry for Elden, he came up blank. (another year)

For as long as Gamora has known him, Thanos has been a collector, entirely unmatched. He has been so for much longer than that, in fact; Gamora herself and all her siblings are proof. (the kindness of strangers)

Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:

“I wouldn’t say nervous,” he hedges. Nervously. (the weight of it all)

“I’ve never stood for any of that shit, and I’m sure as hell not going to let anybody pretend Captain America stands for it either. That’s not—I won’t give more power to that kind of hatefulness. If people want to be bigots, fine, that’s on them, but they do not get to use this symbol to spread and validate their hate.” (I’m your national anthem)

There’s about five seconds of resounding silence, during which Loki shivers and barely seems to be breathing and Tony keeps rubbing his shoulder because apparently this is his life now, and then Barton says, “What the fuck, Stark?” (the state of my head)

Loki growls under his breath and makes a sharp gesture that sends another robot flying. “End program,” he snaps, and glowers at Natasha again. “Did you have a point, or did you simply wish to drag me back to the infatuated horde slavering for my brother’s return?” Natasha tilts her head. Whatever else you could say about Loki (and there’s a lot), he sure has a fancier vocabulary than most people she knows. (getting the gang together)

He is a being of countless interwoven myths and stories, the precise intersection of which seems to shift every time he tries to examine it, and eventually he stops trying, because he is no longer sure that it is relevant to what he is doing here. One thing, in all this, is constant: always, he is Loki, and he knows more than almost anyone that identity is malleable, that facts and truth are not always perfectly interchangeable. (we could be heroes)

“I see,” Loki says. He does, actually; he has studied and used enough magic to know that some laws of reality simply are, immutable no matter the power of the one seeking to change them. This knowledge does nothing to make him feel any less weary, and for a moment he thinks the weight of all this really will crush him, that he lacks the strength to do anything but sink into the dust of this barren realm and sleep there forever. (in death’s other kingdom)

haha so it turns out I liked a bunch of lines in this year’s long fics so I’m just gonna...list those separately at the bottom...

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated: 

"under bright stars burning,” Steve and Loki hanging out on Coney Island, especially the bit where they’re sitting on the boardwalk railing watching the beach with the Wonder Wheel behind them

ditto, the kissing scene :3

anything?? those are the only two scenes that really come to mind in a “oh man I wish someone would draw this, it would be super cute” way, but 1) “the kindness of strangers” already has a bunch of awesome art from @neurovicky, which is amazing, and 2) I am thrilled with literally any fanart of my fics

Fic-writing goals for 2017:

continue writing at least a little bit every day

continue to post at least one new short fic to AO3 each month (last year I said “even if it’s a new ‘adventures of tiny Loki and Thor’ or ‘Custom figures’ chapter” but I managed even without that, I think, barely, so I should be able to do it again

continue to try focusing on fucking finishing some of the many, many, many fics languishing on my WIP list, especially the shorter ones that I really should have written and posted months or even years ago

more specific fic goals:

finish “the kindness of strangers” part III

finish the rest of my Yuletide fic haha whoops

New Year’s Resolution fic because my actual Yuletide fic was late, more whoops

that damn Stoki Week fic I started back in June

“Avengers Academy: Friendship Is Magic”

finish the rest of always gold to me

shit, I should get back to winter in our bones

and work on a followup to “under bright stars burning”

I don’t knowwww there are so many others

Favorite lines from “under bright stars burning” because sure why not, please note these are all very spoilery if you want to read the fic and haven’t:

“You would [like Thor],” Loki says, like it’s a law of the universe. “Thor is…bright, and boisterous, and everyone loves him, even when they are displeased with him. He is impossible to ignore. And I am…not him.”

He darts a glance toward Steve and then away, studying the shoreline, and Steve is suddenly struck by how beautiful Loki is. He’s noticed before, but not quite like this, with the breeze ruffling Loki’s hair and the sun highlighting those fine, sharp features Steve is always itching to draw. He doesn’t just want to draw Loki now, though; mostly he’s wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping, and gives up on the attempt at a smile. “It’s my mom. She…working in the TB ward finally caught up to her.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat, which seems to be growing sharp points with every word. “The funeral was today.”

Loki gives him a look that somehow combines concern with profound skepticism.

Steve nods, his gut twisting uneasily as more threads of the nightmare come into focus, connect, begin to compose a larger picture. The golden prince in the red cape, blinding and bright, with a shadow no one ever notices. Cheers and thunderous applause (but not for the shadow, never for the shadow). His hand turning blue and ridged in the monster’s grip, and horror freezing the breath in his lungs more effectively than the glacial cold. A glowing blue box radiates cold and his hands turn blue as he touches it monster monster monster and revulsion is so thick in his throat he thinks he’ll choke on it. Rage and terror, rage and terror, no more than another stolen relic, claimed to love me, tell me tell me tell me, never wanted never loved never real and fear again. A corona of golden light. A spear and a throne and plans plans plans he will do it he will show them he is right, is worthy (is nothing but the monster parents tell their children about at night)—

Desert. Blood on the sand. A bridge. Battle, galaxies hanging suspended overhead. An explosion that sends him flying, his grip on the spear the only thing holding him above the abyss, but he has no reason to hold on and so he lets go and falls falls falls—

Bucky falls and Steve can’t catch him. Schmidt takes off with the Tesseract and Steve can’t stop him. Instead he sits at the Valkyrie’s controls and makes a date with Peggy that they both know he won’t make and tries not to think that even as Captain America, all he can do is fail the people he cares about, over and over again. Tries, fruitlessly, not to spend his last moments wishing he had more time with any of them, and then he sends the Valkyrie into the water.

And then Loki moves, quick as thought, already inside Steve’s guard, and Steve has no time or space to block him (and barely the space of a breath for a rush of horrified betrayal) before the tip of his scepter is pressed to Steve’s heart. Everything else disappears in a blaze of consuming blue light.

He is drowning in pain and anger, and then (no, Loki) despair overwhelms everything else, and he opens his hand, and he falls.

Under other circumstances, Loki thinks he might be impressed with his captors’ efficiency. They are expending no apparent effort and still grinding him down, and he does not want to think what it means, that this all must be in preparation for something—or that perhaps it is not, and he truly does not know which thought is worse.

He knows Thanos is too powerful. To think otherwise comes near to blasphemy.

It is fitting, he supposes, that the monster should destroy everything that was once good in its life, even this. Steve does not deserve this, does not deserve to suffer for unknowingly befriending a monster and finding himself inevitably drawn into the monster’s fate, but he will, and Loki can almost feel his spine bending under the weight of his own despair.

Favorite lines from “the kindness of strangers” because ditto, and ditto on spoilers:

This is truth: Thanos is patient like Death is patient, with the calm surety that the universe will bow to his will in the end no matter how long it takes.

Gamora was never nice except when it suited her, even before; was already hard, and fierce in her defense of anything she considered hers, and so once Thanos had broken and remade her, she had something left of herself, harder even than the shell he made her create.

She is a daughter of Thanos, by necessity and unyielding determination (and by something she refuses to call desperation, even in her own mind), but she is also the last surviving member of the Zehoberei race. This second identity is not one she considers often; at best it is not useful to the life she leads now, and at worst it is dangerous, but it still exists, always, alongside anything else Thanos might make of her—a kind of sacred responsibility, almost, even if she has little time or patience for religion or superstition. And the last survivor of the Zehoberei, in the name of all the unknown dead that she alone carries, burns with quiet rage at the idea of Thanos gaining the power to wipe out another race.

“I would take you for a Valkyrie,” he says, quiet and hoarse, “but if that were so you would not come to me, for I cannot succeed even at dying and I know Valhalla is barred to me.”

Yes, she is afraid of Thanos, afraid down to her marrow, and any thinking being should be as well, and perhaps everything else she tells herself—everything else she holds close as evidence that she does not belong to him—is merely an excuse for her own cowardice.

But the truth that matters the most in this case is simple: her reasons have not changed, and they far outweigh her pity for Loki (and her desire to prove to herself that she is not a coward). Whether they are still good reasons or merely excuses to salve what remains of her conscience is immaterial.

This is another truth: Gamora does not like to think in terms of what she can and cannot do. It is too much like helplessness, to look too long at the choices she is denied, and she learned a long time ago that helplessness is a short step away from death or worse. Instead she assesses situations and finds choices to make, and then she chooses, and she does not regret or look back—even when the choices are impossible or effectively meaningless. There is always, always a choice of some kind to be made, and to choose is to regain some measure of control over the situation, no matter how small. If she chooses, she cannot be forced one way or the other, and therefore she is not helpless.

“Soon,” Thanos tells her, his expression satisfied, and something unpleasant curls in Gamora’s stomach, the same mingling of fear and relief she feels whenever Thanos is pleased.

The titan smiles down at him, something both paternal and predatory in his gaze.

Slowly the blankness in his expression is replaced by something just as sharp and feral as the first time Gamora laid eyes on him, only now it is more wary, more focused, both more and less desperate. ... Every now and then, Thanos tells Loki that he is pleased with his progress, and Loki smiles to hear it, and his smile is like a brittle blade.

And for a long moment that freezes the blood in her veins like shards of ice, all she can think is I have failed. She has not done enough, and Terra is going to fall like her world did so long ago, all because she was so determined to wait for the right moment.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Romanoff says, and then: “I’ve got red in my ledger. I want to wipe it out.” There is…a cadence to it, something he knows, not the words but the sense of…something practiced, repeated, held close…

“Because look, he busted up a town because of a fight with his brother, singlehandedly destroyed a SHIELD installation, took out a guy’s eyeball, and threatened a freaking Holocaust survivor. Even if he doesn’t want to be this Thanos’s tool, he’s still a tool in general.”

“Gentlemen,” Fury snaps, “if you’re going to have a pissing contest, do it on your own time. I’m not asking you to like each other or the God of Crazy, I’m asking if you’ll put on your big boy pants for five seconds, do what’s necessary, and work together.”