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anticomedygarden · 3 months ago

Note

for AI-less whumptober....

WHITE ROOM for alt list. If you wanna.

(literally any pairing bc I trust your ship judgment skills the maximum amount tbt)

😁 love it! no ships but i think you'll like this...i really hope

tw slight blood and gore, mentioned suicide

Luke Castellan and how he realized the fight he got wasn't the fight he wanted.

@ailesswhumptober ao3 link

Luke never meant for more demigods to be killed. It's actually the reason he started on this journey. No more dead kids. No more neglected kids. No more abused kids. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Wrong. Turns out when both sides' main fighters are child soldiers, kids die, especially when their parents are deadbeat gods. Maybe that shoulda been obvious, but hey. When a mysterious all powerful voice tells you he can stop the murder of your people, sometimes you listen. Especially when your supposed 'all powerful' parents can't step off their thrones for two seconds to see if their kids are still kicking. Every side has its drawbacks. It just sucks that demigods are always the ones to pay the price.

It's around this time that Kronos starts taking major control of the mind. Luke has gone through the horrible ordeal of piecing Kronos out of Tartarus, nearly killing Percy (wow, another one), poisoning Thalia's tree, etc., etc., but now that the grisly parts are over, Kronos wants the mind and body all to himself.

It must have been a test. See how far he's willing to go for the cause. Well, apparently pretty damn far, for all the lies Kronos told him. Fatal tests of will just to pass inspection, like a car. Like Agamemnon. Like Odysseus. While he let Kronos hand pick his sacrifices. Like Artemis. Like Zeus. Like-

Annabeth is kidnapped. Bianca dies. The best of them, being held against her will. One of the newest, body lying broken in the gods' garbage while a 13 year old wonders how to tell her ten year old brother that his sister isn't coming back. The metaphor writes itself.

(Was Bianca killed by the infamous pettiness and laziness of the gods, or was she killed by a quest she was only on because of choices Luke made?)

Everyone keeps threatening Annabeth. If he could just get her to see, to see how terrible the gods are, that he is fighting for demigods and only demigods, that Kronos can help them-

"Is that what you want? To go back to your dad in triumph?"

He gets pushed off a cliff for his efforts, and Annabeth still goes back to Camp with Thalia and Percy.

It hurts.

Must these be their only two options? Death or losing their identities to a cause that was never about them? Losing their identities as they become soldiers? Gods, he hopes not. This can't have all been for nothing.

(In the back of his mind, he thinks there's another metaphor in there somewhere. He's traded a coffin for white room torture.)

Coffin for white room torture. Coffin for white room torture.

Coffin or white room torture.

Coffin or white room-

After Annabeth rejects him, there's not many options. He can't go back to Camp. He can't live on the run. He has no home. That's it. He's completely isolated. Kronos is all he has left.

It's a life of threats and ultimatums, impossible tasks and even worse commands. He bathes in the River Styx. It hurts. It always hurts.

Somehow, he knows: this is the beginning of the end.

The white walls are nearly constant now, and that's a new torture in and of itself. Every second he spends in here is another second Kronos is out there wreaking havoc with what was once Luke's body. The regret is over flowing now, too, boiling over the sides of the pot that is his mind, scorching the bright white and bringing color into his miserable life. His people are dead. His people are dying and it's the gods' faults. It's his fault. It's Kronos' fault. It's his fault. It's the goddamn system's fault for never changing.

It's his goddamn fault.

White walls.

Neon lights.

No shadows. Of all the things about the little room in Kronos' mind that Luke's been granted, he never thought the absence of shadows would be what bothered him most, but of course it's another fucking metaphor.

Nothing's real. Was it ever? This whole path started with a voice in his dreams. Who was he to decide between one dictator and the next? He's a husk of a person carved out to house a monster. His life is a joke. What's next? Will anyone even live to see it?

He's never getting out of the web of his own mistakes. His legacy is nothing. There's no hope, only the harsh white light of marching time.

His goddamn fault.

There's a voice in the cell. This hasn't happened in-

He doesn't know. Time isn't real.

It's Annabeth.

Annabeth-

It's Annabeth.

"Luke. I understand now. You have to trust me."

There wasn't a world in which he didn't trust her.

"Your mother. She saw your fate."

His - mother? Who-

May.

There's a brief flash in his mind's eye, blonde hair - no, white - peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, burned cookies. A bitter, bitter feeling. He can't tell if it's Annabeth's voice or the images or the feelings that choke him.

"Not the end, Luke. The prophecy - she saw what you would do. It applies to you!"

Annabeth's voice is so clear - so thick and heavy with tears - that he wishes he could reach out to her and wipe away all the sadness and hurt like he did when she was little.

But nothing can fix what he broke.

"You promised. You're holding Kronos back even now."

Was he? It sure as Hades didn't feel like it - but demigods were survivors.

Maybe this box was his preservation, not his prison.

He could pound on the walls, knock the blinding panels down. He could let the neon lights fall and shatter beneath his feet - he could get out. He could run from the filthy recesses of Kronos' mind and fucking fix something for once in hisgoddamn miserable, wasted life.

He is in the throne room. His father's chair sits nearby, with its rams' horns and gray rock and goatskin. It's almost enough to send him back to the box.

But beneath him is Annabeth, and she looks terrible. Just awful. Terrified of the sword that Kronos - no, Luke - has raised above her, ready to strike. Her knife is in her non broken hand. And not even as old as Luke was on his quest that started it all.

His goddamn fault.

Then she just has to deliver the exact words that will ruin him, tears and snot on her young, pale face, looking for all the world like that seven year old he found behind that dumpster all those years ago - except, it wasn't even a decade ago. How are they still so young?

"Family, Luke. You promised."

Even though he feels it, he doesn't think he actually shudders, but within moments, he is back in his own body, nearly out of practice, like steering with video game controls. "Promise," he whispers. Family. Someone else - Thalia. Dear gods, don't let her be dead.

He looks forward again, through his own blurry eyes, and sees red. "Annabeth, you're bleeding."

Finally within reach, he stumbles toward her, unsteady on unfamiliar feet. He's grown since he was last in control.

She doesn't shy away, just mumbles, "My knife." Her arm twitches, unable to lift against Kronos' power. "Percy, please."

Vaguely, he's aware of Percy knocking Backbiter out of his hands with Annabeth's dagger. So quickly, Kronos is back in power as just the son of the sea sends anger and panic bolting through him.

Luke's barely gone for any time at all this round, and he understands what he has to do. There is nothing else. "He's changing. Help. He's - he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please-"

Another flash, and the next thing he knows, he's on the ground, hands burning, smoking, pain pain pain that he doesn't feel. All he cares about now is the knife in Percy's hand and all the demigods he let down. "Please, Percy."

The boy in question staggers over to where Luke lays on the ground, and the blond nearly groans when he hesitates. "You can't...can't do it yourself," he warns, and trips through a couple of sentences that he hopes get his point across.

It doesn't matter; Percy still looks at Annabeth for her nod of approval in the end, and Luke mourns the loss of a life where he gets to tease them for that, his little sister and the other boy she clearly has wrapped around her finger in what is surely becoming a codependent relationship. Finally, he has the knife.

"Percy? Are you..." someone else nearby says. Luke doesn't have time to care about that, or to ruminate on all the ways he's screwed over the owner of that voice. He has to hit his weak spot before Kronos can take over again, and that's exactly what he does.

It hurts. Gods, it hurts so bad. He got to choose between the coffin and the white room and somehow he got both. Somehow, he dragged dozens of others with him just to send them to the coffin. He has so many regrets and only seconds to settle them all.

Annabeth's - Hal's, originally - knife in his hands, and Annabeth, Grover, and Percy surround him, barely able to stand yet still holding on. He coughs. "Good blade." He looks at Annabeth first. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew."

"Shh," Annabeth says immediately. "You were a hero at the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium."

It's got to be a pipe dream, but he's also got to trust her. "Think...rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest." Maybe with two more tries, he'll finally get it right.

That makes Annabeth smile. "You always pushed yourself too hard." She presses her fingertips to his as he coughs blood.

"Did you love me?" he asks, surprising himself, even though it is a question that he would like answered before he dies.

"There was a time I thought...well I thought..." As she looks at Percy, it hits him that she thinks he means romantically, and he can't bear the idea that he allowed Kronos to twist his mind so far. "You were like a brother to me Luke, but I didn't love you."

That's all he needs to hear.

Just then, a wave of pain hits him, and he coughs more blood.

Grover - wonderful, kind Grover - says, "We can get ambrosia. We can-"

"Grover," Luke chokes out. There's no time for this, and more importantly, Luke can't bear to hear it. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing-" he coughs again, more blood flooding over his lips. He doesn't have much more time.

He turns to Percy, gripping his sleeve. "Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it happen again." Don't let the gods slip back into their bullshit while their children go dead and ignored. Don't let this vicious cycle start until both sides are destroyed. Give them better choices than the coffin or torture. If this is to be his legacy, he is damn well making it last.

"I won't," Percy agrees. Luke knew he would. He always saw how things should be. "I promise."

It's enough. It's a pact between a dying man and a boy with more power than anyone will ever know what to do with. It's a promise to protect their people. It's a promise to never let things get so bad that a child turns countless ruined childhoods, lost lives, and horrors into a near massacre of all the wrong people. It's enough.

I'm sorry, mom, Annabeth, Thalia, young me. I tried so hard, and I still got the coffin.

He takes one last look around, and he closes his eyes for the last time, no Kronos bubbling beneath his skin or gods watching his failures, just three people that somehow still believe in him. It's enough.

all dialogue goes to either the titan's curse or the last olympian

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anticomedygarden · 3 months ago

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This looks like fun! Send in requests if there's something you guys wanna see on a certain day

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

#i would appreciate it if y'all didn't send in hp reqs #i burned myself out on that fandom and badly need to take a break #anything else on my intro post is cool though!#not fic

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anticomedygarden · 5 months ago

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white noise

Piper over thinks her powers and has a crisis. Luckily, her friends are there to ask for help.

ao3 link

i wrote this slightly oxygen deprived so if you see any mistakes please lmk (fr while I was editing I caught so many name, pronoun, spelling, and verb ending errors and I am still a bit not breathing right so please please tell me if something is wrong or doesn't make sense)

for those who don't know who killgrave is: he is a supervillain in netflix's jessica jones. he has powers similar to charmspeak but incredibly more powerful and uses those powers to completely control people, including rape

Piper never should have tried to watch TV at camp. She never should have asked her dad for a mobile hotspot and high speed internet. She never should have started catching Jason up on modern media. She never should have continued being friends with her ex-boyfriend. And she never should have introduced him to Marvel.

Jessica Jones currently had his whole attention, and his eyes were a little too bright as the hero snapped Killgrave's neck on her laptop screen. "Finally," he muttered, which would have concerned Piper a lot more had she not been staving off a panic attack.

"Oh my gods," Piper gasped, "I have Killgrave powers!"

Jason looked at her sharply. "Uh-"

She jumped off Jason's bed into the marble floor of the Zeus cabin, suddenly needing to get away from him. "Charmspeak is basically mind control!"

"I mean, you-"

"Oh, gods, did I contribute to Hera's heteronormative agenda?" She was full on panicking now, pacing and breathing heavily. "Do you think it took so long for you to realize you're gay because I was using my powers on you?"

Jason frowned in concentration, and it actually made her feel a little better that he took the time to think about his answer. "I don't think so. I think Hera did more damage than anything. Besides, your powers are more based on your own intent, right? You have to really try to make people do things."

"Not at first!" she said, a tad hysterical. The whole reason I was at the wilderness school was because I got that guy to give me a car!" Sure, she had good control of her powers, now, but whenever she first learned about them, she was basically just manipulating people. It felt icky then, and it felt even worse now that she'd seen what those kinds of abilities could do.

She looked up to see Jason staring at her, concerned. "Don't look at me like that, with your big sad Chris Evans eyes."

Jason's nose crinkled, and his blue eyes - big and sad like Captain America - turned downward. "Who's Chris Evans?"

Any other time, she would have made fun of him for that, but she was too upset to appreciate how funny it was. "The guy who plays adult you."

If it was possible, Jason looked even more confused. "What?"

"Oh gods, oh gods," Piper muttered. "Did I force myself on you? Was everything we did even consensual?"

There was a scratching sound over by Jason's bed, and Piper looked over to see Jason scribbling something down. She was willing to bet it was Chris Evans' name to google later. Again, she wanted to laugh but was freaking out too much.

When he was done, Jason said, "Yeah, I think it was. Even thinking about Hera, we were 15 to 16, and you're very pretty.” So he was he, but whatever. “Exploring your sexuality is what being that age is for." He started walking over to her. "Besides, we never really got past kissing."

Piper sniffed back tears. "Any forced touching is sexual assault."

"It wasn't forced, though," Jason insisted, but Piper still wasn't mollified. "Don't your powers work better when the person already wants to do the thing? Like the final push-"

"That's so much worse!" she exclaimed, to Jason's surprise. His eyes got very wide, and he took a step back. "Consent should be verbal and not coerced! If Chris Evans asked me to have sex with him, I'd probably want to, but I wouldn't say yes!" A horrible thought occurred to her. "Plus, do you know how easy these powers would make it to break an addict's sobriety? Or a million other things that suggestive mind control could do to vulnerable people?"

"Who is Chris Evans?" Jason asked again. Piper vowed to show him the Captain America movies if only so he could understand the archetype role he filled perfectly - if she could ever look at him again. He waved a hand. "It doesn't matter. Piper, you know this is something we all deal with? I could do terrible things with my powers, too. I could short out the entire eastern seaboard's power grid if I tried hard enough." He snapped. "And Nico - you hang out with Will, I know you've heard some of his stories - Nico can and has done some pretty terrible things, but we all still love him." Piper almost said this wasn't the time for Jason's weird older sibling obsession with the Italian before he pulled out the big guns. "Think about Percy. Do you know how hard he has to work to keep his powers in check? Your powers aren't even half as strong as his."

Damn. That was a good one. The boy was practically a ticking time bomb. The focus he expended just to not turn into Luke probably took most of his strength. "You're right," she said. Jason looked relieved. "I should go talk to Percy."

She ran out of Cabin One and booked it to Three.

Predictably, Percy and Annabeth were a bit startled when Piper burst into the Poseidon cabin.

"Percy," she declared, "kiss me."

The boy in question sent an alarmed look to Annabeth who seemed equally surprised. "...That's gonna be a no."

Piper narrowed her eyes and threw every bit of concentration into her next two words. "Kiss me."

A fog seemed to come over him, and he actually started to get up. Then, he shook his head. "What are you-"

"Percy, don't listen to her, she's having a crisis," Jason blurted as he shot through the door. The blond did a double take when he saw Percy, Annabeth, and Piper just staring at each other. "Oh, good."

Annabeth held up a hand from her spot at the corner of the bed. "What is going on?"

It was a good thing Jason started talking first because Piper had no idea where to even start. "We were watching Jessica Jones-"

"Oh, I love that show," Annabeth interrupted. "Well, the first season. Krysten Ritter is so hot-"

"So hot," Percy echoed.

"-and David Tennant is so good as Killgrave." Thankfully, that appeared to be all it took for Annabeth to understand Piper's current crisis of self. "Killgrave's powers freaked you out?"

Mutely, Piper nodded.

Annabeth put out a hand. "Percy's demi, it won't work as well on him. Ask me, I'm bi."

Before she could reconsider, Piper said, "Annabeth, kiss me."

Just as it had to Percy, a fog seemed to come over her face, but unlike her boyfriend, Annabeth didn't stop. She got to barely a few inches in front of Piper before she stumbled a little and pulled her head back. "Wow, that's so weird."

Piper was vaguely aware of Percy and Jason watching them in her periphery. "Do you feel violated?"

If she'd expected Annabeth to get uncomfortable at the question, she was sorely disappointed. The daughter of Athena just laughed at her. "I mean, only in the sense that I knew I was being coerced. Otherwise, you're my friend - my very beautiful friend - and I know you wouldn't hurt me. Honestly, if it weren't for Percy, I probably would have kissed you."

Now, everyone - barring Percy, who had apparently had extensive conversations with his girlfriend about what celebrities they both thought were hot - was staring at Annabeth. Piper shook her head and turned to Jason. "See? See how easy it would be for me to force-"

"I think you're looking at it wrong," Percy said suddenly. The son of Poseidon was giving her a thoughtful look. "I don't think your powers are as persuasive as you're thinking they are. You had to really try just now to get me to do anything, and Annabeth was, uh-"

"Ready to do what anyone would be when their awesome friend tells them to kiss them with their superpowers," Annabeth quickly declared.

Jason threw up his hands. "Thank you! And whatever you think you did to me should really be blamed on Hera because we were young-"

"So young," Annabeth agreed.

"-really, not old or experienced enough to be sure about what we wanted, not to mention the memories and manipulation, and you didn't realize you weren’t straight until a lot later, either-"

"So really, if anyone is guilty of mind control and sexual assault, it's Hera," said Percy, who was not afraid of pissing off the queen of the gods. No, he looked perfectly content and not worried about cow shit at all.

That made Piper smile.

"Plus," Percy started, "our powers are there to help us. We're not like characters who get powers by accident or give themselves power ups for their own gain or security. We're born with them because monsters are constantly trying to kill us."

That was...surprisingly insightful. It was easy to forget that Percy was actually pretty smart. "How do you guys do it, then? Deal with these crazy powers?"

Jason shook his head. "Percy can answer that better than me. Anything more than some sparks and flying takes a lot out of me."

His comment very nearly sent Piper back into a tailspin. She never would have considered herself anywhere near as powerful as Jason; hell, she wouldn't even consider herself as powerful as Annabeth. This new responsibility - knowing she could leave this cabin and ruin lives just with her voice - was almost more than she could handle, and she didn't like it at all. She couldn't believe Percy just lived like this, but 100 times worse knowing that his powers could - and had - hurt the gods.

The black haired boy cocked his head. "It's not like...I mean, I don't do anything special. You learn to live with it. You just have to find a way to not be bothered by it or lose control." Her face must have fallen or something because Percy said, "Annabeth helps a lot. I know if I ever did lose control, she'd pull me out of it." He grabbed Annabeth's hand. "Or kill me."

Annabeth blanched. "But it won't ever come to that."

Piper could tell from Percy and Annabeth's faces that it absolutely could come to that and that they'd probably had this exact discussion between the two of them before.

Maybe she should make a kill-pact with Jason or Leo or someone in case she ever went supervillain and turned into Killgrave.

She finally took the time to look around the room and realized that Percy and Annabeth had been doing homework. "Thanks, guys, I feel a lot better. See you at dinner."

"See ya."

The second the door to Percy's cabin was shut, Piper rounded on Jason. "Swear that if I ever go off the deep end, you'll kill me."

Jason's eyes bugged out of his head. "Piper-"

"Swear."

There wasn't any charmspeak in her voice - at least, she didn't think there was - but Jason still said, "Fine, but only if you do the same for me."

Piper nodded. "I swear by the River Styx that if you start using your powers to hurt innocent people and there's no chance of stopping you non fatally, I'll kill you."

Jason repeated the oath, and Piper dragged Jason back to his cabin for a Chris Evans binge.

A week later, Leo returned from Indiana and sat next to Piper on the steps of the amphitheater. "Hey, Beauty Queen."

"Hey, Repair Boy."

"I hear you're to blame for Jason suddenly writing Captain America fanfiction?"

Piper burst out laughing. "Is he really?"

Leo chuckled along with her. "Yeah, I caught him last night when he said he was writing a history essay. I think it was Stucky."

Piper grinned. "Technically..." She didn't need to finish the sentence. "But, seriously, with his self worth issues, this is kinda like therapy."

Leo laughed again, and, damn, she missed her friend. "You're not wrong." Then, his smile dropped. "You know, if you were looking for someone to kill you, I'm right here."

Piper raised her eyebrows at him. "Likewise. Wanna make a pact?"

He sure did.

#piper mclean #my writing #my fic #jason grace #piper and jason #percy jackson #pjo fic #pjo #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #leo valdez #tw discussion of non con #past jiper #percabeth #minor angst #pipabeth if you squint #rrverse

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anticomedygarden · 6 months ago

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adventures in illegal weapons production and distribution

Peter creates knives that are undetectable by metal detectors. Predictably, this causes some chaos.

Based on ch 7 of deniigiq's 'in technicolor.'

ao3 link

Peter never knew a partnership with the NYPD could be so lucrative. Really, he should present his discovery to Captain Rogers, just to see what he would say. Probably something along the lines of 'reasoning can't be based on his experience with one guy that DD trusts' or something about sample size, or, depending on the soldier's mood, "Absolutely not."

Whatever. All Peter knew was that illegal acquisition of resin had never been easier, and all he'd had to do was become Spider-man.

This was how he ended up holed up in his bedroom surrounded by beautiful, clear knives, the sweet satisfaction of a job well done putting him to sleep at a reasonable hour.

The resin knives were cool, but there were just two problems, one if he was willing to overlook the effects on the environment. The bigger problem was that the resin could still be detected by SI's metal detectors, a fact which he now knew intimately.

"Man, let me go," Peter whined, rattling the handcuffs attached to his right hand. He was very close to trying out DD's thumb dislocation trick since he couldn't use his super strength, but he didn't think Mr. Stark would appreciate him breaking shit outside of the lab, even if it was his own body. "It's just resin."

The security guard currently holding Peter hostage in his little office (Mr. Greevy, according to his name tag) gave him an unimpressed look. It made his mustache twitch. "They're weapons."

Peter rolled his eyes. No shit, sir. That's the point.

Not only could he not break out of the cuffs, he couldn't tell Mr. Greevy to call Mr. Stark for three reasons: 1, the guard definitely would not believe him; 2, Mr. Stark probably wouldn't pick up; and 3, Mr. Stark did not like for Peter to have resin and would take away his knives and possibly tell Detective Mahoney to find another bribe, and that was simply unacceptable. Peter needed his resin for future projects.

Turns out, he didn't need to worry about any of that because Mr. Stark was already walking into the guard's room and demanding the key for the cuffs, but not before Mr. Greevy showed his big boss his brand new small box full of resin knives.

Peter thought that behind the pursed lips and drawn brow, Mr. Stark was impressed. Good. Some of those designs were intricate as hell.

Finally, Mr. Stark gave a quiet huff, said, "C'mon, Pete," and grabbed the knife box from Mr. Greevy, and they started up to the lab.

"Do I even want to know?" Mr. Stark asked tiredly.

No, probably not, but definitely yes after his next project.

"Fine, just keep it from me. Plausible deniability."

Yes sir, that's the plan. Can I please have my knives back?

Logically, the next step was making them able to slip past metal detectors, specifically the hyper aware ones at SI, and it only took one tipoff to Detective Mahoney to procure the necessary resin. The rest of the materials he could get from Mr. Stark's lab, and what was life without a little explicit disobedience, anyway?

Once he surfaced from his own project, Mr. Stark took one look at Peter's work station and did a double take. "Whatcha doing, buddy?"

Ha. Peter's had this answer waiting since he got here. "Experimenting with different materials."

Mr. Stark pressed his lips together into a thin line. "And what materials are those?"

"You told me not to tell you about it."

Once again, Mr. Stark pursed his lips. "It's resin, isn't it?"

Peter grinned at him. "Can we skip the whole, 'That's illegal, you shouldn't have that,' thing? We both know I'm just gonna bring up the illegal stuff you were getting up to when you were my age. Really, this isn't that bad."

Except for the part where he was gonna distribute his illegal and dangerous weapons to his illegal and dangerous friends.

Mr. Stark was really looking particularly stricken today. Like a man who knew he was in the right and still lost. Now there was nothing he could do to stop this masterpiece.

Less than a few hours later, the masterpiece was complete. His knives were beautiful. Truly one of his babies, along with his web fluid, first set of resin knives (R.I.P. from the bottom of his sock drawer), and the original Spidey suit. Now it was just a matter of testing it.

Because SI was (understandably) more concerned with what people might be bringing into its facilities - what with all the supervillains and crazy geniuses and such - to truly test his knives against detection, he would have to bring them back into the building. This, of course, meant crawling out the window of the lab in the Spiderman suit, walking all the way down the tower, putting his person clothes on over the suit in a nearby alley, walking back into the tower under the guise of forgetting his backpack, and doing all of it with the knives very strategically placed under the suit. In addition to the metal detectors, the security guard on duty also had him step aside to undergo additional security checks now that the man knew him as 'the kid with the weird ass knives.' Fortunately, the new material passed without detection, or else the subsequent few hours would have been very uncomfortable for everyone.

The next step now was distribution. Getting them to Wade was easy enough since the merc would be more interested in their durability and appearance, but Peter wanted to do one more test before taking them to Matt. DD would not be happy if Peter brought him supposedly undetectable knives and then was acosted at the court house. No, he had to get them through more metal detectors.

Peter had no reason to be in the court house. He also did not want to be arrested if the knives did somehow set off an alarm. Obviously, the best work around to this little problem was to stick a knife in the work bag of a particular court house employee he'd heard Matt complain about in the past, namely for being an 'asswipe small brained bigot with a head too big to stick up his own ass.' Matt's words, not his.

Peter was almost disappointed when the man made it smoothly past the entrance.

After sneaking into the man's office to steal back his knife, Peter quickly swung home to collect the box on his desk, the one full of knives. Team Red was scheduled for a meetup on this fine Monday morning while DD and Wade were between jobs and Peter had no classes that he cared about.

It took only a few minutes to get to the roof of their building, but Matt and Wade were already there when Peter landed. They both turned and stared at him. Well, Wade did. Matt cocked his head.

"Whatcha got there bud?" Wade asked, clearly very interested.

Peter grinned and carefully disentangled his box from where it was strapped to his stomach with webs. "I have presents."

"Ooh," Wade said. "Is it spider eggs? Cause if it is, I'd keep that to yourself."

Before Peter could answer, Matt broke in. "It's rattling, and it smells like chemicals." He sniffed, evidently annoyed that he couldn't figure out immediately what Peter had based on his olfactory cortex's admittedly extensive database of smells. "Is it..." He frowned. "Some sort of resin?"

"Ding ding ding!" Peter said delightedly and opened the box. "They're knives."

He handed one up to both men who took them eagerly; they studied them for a minute, Wade less thoroughly than Matt, who went so far as to lick the flat side of the blade. He made a face. "What the fuck is that?"

"It's a resin based polymer," he informed them. "It can get past metal detectors and is thin and flexible enough to go through light pat downs." This he knew first hand.

Much to his satisfaction, both people in front of him looked absolutely thrilled with this information.

"You know what this means?" Wade said, gesturing dramatically with the knife still in his hand, "I can finally go back to the mall!"

Oh. Oh well. The knives were their property now. It wasn't Peter's job to keep track of what they did with them.

Matt continued to look pleased. "I can't wait to tell Foggy how much safer we're about to be at the court house."

Ha. Mr. Nelson would be so happy.

They disbanded not long after that, Matt to his office and Wade to whatever he had to do, but Peter stayed up in the air for a while longer. Now that he had the supplies, he wanted to learn how to use them; therefore, he pulled up a YouTube video on knife throwing for beginners and began to practice. By the time he decided to head back to school, he had gotten fairly proficient if he did say so himself.

Sadly, there was one person who did not share that opinion.

"Hey, Spiderman," Ms Black Widow said.

He definitely did not shriek or jump two feet in the air, and he definitely did not curse his Spidey Sense for not sensing her. (She was dangerous as fuck, how did it not pick up on that?)

Once over his totally silent and stationary calm moment, he said, "Hi, Ms Black Widow ma'am."

"I heard you're practicing your throwing skills."

What.

"You're not bad, but there's plenty of room for improvement."

The.

"I think we could help each other."

Fuck.

"I'll teach you to throw if you make me some of those knives."

Yes. Absolutely. You say jump, I say I'm already stuck to the bottom of this helicopter.

"Good. I'll meet you on the roof of your building at 9 tonight."

Oh god. Oh fuck. He could do this.

He could not do this. Ms Black Widow was not only incredibly talented at all things violent, but she was also an incredible hard ass. None of his throws were perfect. They were fine . They were all right. There was always room for improvement .

On the plus side, he was very, very good at making knives. Ms Black Widow required two knives as payment for each lesson. It had been two weeks with one lesson a day. That was 28 knives. He was running out of resin. At least he could make them at home now.

This was definitely handy, along with Detective Mahoney's most recent need for Spiderman's help, because now Matt and Wade were particularly attached to their knives and wanted more. This, he found out from Mr. Nelson, who, at first, was not all that happy with his partner's new toys. No, the thank you text Peter had received from him was overly formal at best, obviously sent out of propriety and a subtle request never to make Matt weapons ever again at worst. Then, a heavily armed burglar attacked the bank the two just so happened to be banking at, and suddenly Mr. Nelson couldn't be more pleased with the knives. Yes, his new thank you text implied, they are very cool and all together good to have around, and we would very much like some more please.

Peter continued to be pleased.

Tony Stark was not happy. In the last two days, his personal sponsored vigilante had unleashed hell in his building, and Tony wanted to find out who was responsible.

After some light interrogation, he found out the special little knives - the ones that absolutely should not have made it through security - were made of a resin polymer, one that was definitely going to be patented before any unsavories got wind of the undetectable nature of the weapons. That was the easy part. The hard part was finding out where the actual fuck the kid was getting all this damn resin.

"Peter," he started, bravely, "where-"

"Momma didn't raise no snitch, Mr. Stark." This was said very quickly from a concerningly guiltless face.

"Momma didn't raise you," Tony said, face an uncaring mirror of the boy's in front of him, despite the line not being in any way productive or nice. Pepper glared at him from where she was apologizing to a group of interns that Peter had scared the bejeezus out of when he'd killed the fly that had been bothering them all day with one of his not-resin knives.

A fly. The animal famous for speed and being easily startled. This was why he didn't let Peter have resin.

Fortunately, Peter didn't seem to be offended. Or sorry. "Aunt May didn't raise no snitch, Mr. Stark."

Tony sighed deeply. "Kid, this is illegal. Whoever is getting this to you is a criminal."

Peter continued to not look sorry. If anything, he looked confused. "Then why would I tell you who it is?"

Fuck the resin. Peter needed to stop hanging out with vigilantes. Especially lawyer vigilantes.

"Is it Daredevil? Deadpool? I know you gave them some of your knives. Did Ted get it online? Who taught you how to throw?"

Peter's eyes glittered, and he mimed zipping his lips. This conversation was going nowhere.

The knives, predictably, continued to be a problem, especially for Tony's poor doors and whatever person happened to be staying in the tower at the time being because Peter, in his mischief, had taken to using his knife throwing skills to wake people up. It didn't matter when or who; a tired, overworked intern was just as likely to be a target as an Avenger late for a meeting. Anybody was liable to have a resin adjacent knife fly past their head the second it hit their pillow (or forearms).

Again, there was also the problem of security. This time, it wasn't that his knives were going where they shouldn't be; Peter was going where he shouldn't be. The little menace had figured out that his knives were thin enough to fit in the cracks between doors. This meant that he could now throw his knives into the latches on door locks, splitting them and leaving doors permanently ajar, from a considerable distance. He could also, if he so chose, throw his knives into the actual key holes, making them impossible to open. Thankfully, this was less of a problem for Tony because JARVIS could pretty well control the doors himself, but he just knew Peter had reported his discoveries to his little vigilante friends who would no doubt use the knowledge to wreak havoc on New York City and its criminal underworld.

So no, it wasn't a major problem. Until Secretary Ross came to visit.

He wanted something. Something stupid, probably. Probably something to do with an 'Avengers level threat' or publicity or something else that Tony didn't particularly care about or really didn't want to deal with. He didn't know because he wasn't paying attention. At this point, he was really just watching the man's lips flap while he sipped coffee with not enough espresso shots and tried to wake up before 9. It was fine; JARVIS could give him the rundown later if he didn't have something better to do by then.

Then, very quickly, it wasn't fine. With his back to the door, Tony heard glass shatter, then the crinkling of it falling and hitting the floor. In his half asleep, bored stated, he didn't immediately react. Then he saw the clearish knife in the cabinet lock by Ross' head and the pieces clicked together. Peter had just thrown one of his very illegal knives through a glass door and past the US Secretary of State's head, presumably to lightly threaten the man, which, honestly, Tony couldn't blame him for. Hatred for Thaddeus Ross was probably the only thing that all of the adults (and the other kids) in Peter's life could agree on, not to mention the kid's own issues with the guy, namely that if up to Ross, Peter would be in the Raft. Honestly, Tony would not be surprised if Peter had already fucked off to one his various circles to brag about not only being close enough to Ross to kill him but also getting to threaten him with an illegal weapon of his own creation. Of course, the kid could've just been trying to lock the cabinet behind the man's head since it housed some illegal substances, including but not limited to, the materials that made his knives.

Ross seemed to be at a loss for words. "What...was that?"

Huh. Maybe he didn't notice the knife. Tony decided it was in everyone's best interest to keep it that way. "Probably just the heat. Why don't you send the rest of this to me in an email?" He ushered the stuttering man over the pile of broken glass and into the - thankfully - empty hallway, and began to rethink his stance on illicit resin.

No matter what he landed on ethics wise, Peter needed to be stopped. Or at the very least slowed down.

Aunt May may not have raised a snitch, but when it came to her nephew's adventures in illegal weapons production and distribution, she sure was one. One call from Colonel James Rhodes had her spilling the name of the supplier, and Tony could definitely say that he was shocked. Of all the people Peter was involved with, Tony did not expect Detective Brett Mahoney of the 15th precinct to be his resin dealer, and he really was not expecting the resin to be payment for intel and aerial support.

Now that Tony had seen the knives be used for good, he was sort of willing to let the illegal dealings slide. Rhodey would be taking his side, but, in his words, he had a real job with bosses to answer to, as well as property damage that Pepper would soon find out about, an event that Tony really should be more concerned for.

Thus, Colonel James Rhodes sat down to write a letter to Detective Mahoney.

Tony supposed it would be nice to be able to use his own doors again.

hey i'm looking to get into marvel comics, so if anyone can recommend a good starting point (for someone who's seen the whole mcu and some of the defenders shows plus itsv and deadpool) and also a website on which to read them that would be awesome

#my writing #my fic #spiderman #spider-man #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel #mcu #marvel movies #marvel mcu #peter and tony #tony and peter #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #matt murdock #deadpool #briefly #peter parker

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anticomedygarden · 6 months ago

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ch 4

@kaymardsa

chapter 3 of wolf is on ao3!

@kaymardsa

(if you notice it sucks pls read the notes and maybe keep that to yourself)

#wolf

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anticomedygarden · 6 months ago

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chapter 3 of wolf is on ao3!

@kaymardsa

(if you notice it sucks pls read the notes and maybe keep that to yourself)

#wolf #wolfstar #hp #wolfstar fic #my writing #my fic #remus lupin #sirius black

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anticomedygarden · 6 months ago

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guys i just wrote for the first time since january

#not fic #it's not for any of my wips lol 😬#or even a fandom i've written for before #it's just a dumb one shot for a random fandom but my god it made me happy #shit's been rough let me tell you

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anticomedygarden · 10 months ago

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Hey! I loved your fic where percy got permanently injured and I was wondering if you could write anymore disabled percy fics?? There are so few of them and I am always looking for more disabled character representation! Love your writing!!! ❤❤

hi! sorry, this has been sitting my inbox for a while, it's been a long month.

can you be a bit more specific? it's just that my experience in what you're asking for is pretty much restricted to anxiety and the stuff i wrote about in the fic you mentioned, and even then, I've really only been in annabeth's position which is the only reason i felt comfortable enough to write that fic. if you give me a bit more to go off of, i can at least do some research to see if it's something i can do.

thank you! :)

#not fic #asks

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anticomedygarden · 10 months ago

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writers, reminder that this is now a toggle in your blog settings!

#not fix #share this pls

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anticomedygarden · 10 months ago

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Hi, Tumblr. It’s Tumblr. We’re working on some things that we want to share with you.

AI companies are acquiring content across the internet for a variety of purposes in all sorts of ways. There are currently very few regulations giving individuals control over how their content is used by AI platforms. Proposed regulations around the world, like the European Union’s AI Act, would give individuals more control over whether and how their content is utilized by this emerging technology. We support this right regardless of geographic location, so we’re releasing a toggle to opt out of sharing content from your public blogs with third parties, including AI platforms that use this content for model training. We’re also working with partners to ensure you have as much control as possible regarding what content is used.

Here are the important details:

We already discourage AI crawlers from gathering content from Tumblr and will continue to do so, save for those with which we partner.

We want to represent all of you on Tumblr and ensure that protections are in place for how your content is used. We are committed to making sure our partners respect those decisions.

To opt out of sharing your public blogs’ content with third parties, visit each of your public blogs’ blog settings via the web interface and toggle on the “Prevent third-party sharing” option.

For instructions on how to opt out using the latest version of the app, please visit this Help Center doc.

Please note: If you��ve already chosen to discourage search crawling of your blog in your settings, we’ve automatically enabled the “Prevent third-party sharing” option.

If you have concerns, please read through the Help Center doc linked above and contact us via Support if you still have questions.

#not fic #share this pls

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anticomedygarden · 11 months ago

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hey y'all

real life is currently bananas. i'm going to be inactive for the month of february. i'm still gonna write as much as i can in my very limited free time, so you can still send in asks and prompts and i'll get to them when i can

my goal is to finish wolf by the end of march and have at least the first couple chapters done in another wip i'm working on. we'll see how that goes lol

#so sorry #i really didn't want to have to do this so soon since starting this blog #but i don't have time or energy to focus on writing rn #not fic

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anticomedygarden · 11 months ago

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last line tag!

thanks @kaymardsa for the tag! here's the latest few paragraphs from wolf. no pressure: @lizdarcyfan @skywalking-through-life

There were framed photos, most of which featured the three people in the picture Remus saw on Sirius' fridge with a fair few of Sirius himself as well as some others. Remus' eyes caught on one in particular on the wall behind Dorcas. It was of Sirius and the man who picked them up from the hospital, James. They looked much younger, probably mid to late teens. James still had some baby fat, and Sirius' hair was much shorter. Behind them stretched a green field and a house even bigger than the Den. They looked happy.

Even knowing what Sirius was probably going through at the time the photo would have been taken, seeing the tentative smile, smaller and more mischievous than James', Remus felt a pang of jealousy. At that age, he would've given anything to be in that picture. Or near that picture. Or just in the vicinity of that property.

"We were 17 in that picture." On the other side of the table, James swallowed a bite of food nonchalantly. "It's in my parents' backyard."

Remus just looked at him, unsure what to do with that information, and ignored the desperate desire to learn more about the kind man from six months ago.

Instead of elaborating, James said, "Reg should be home soon."

Remus wondered if he should have Sirius check him for whiplash.

#wolf #not fic #tag game

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anticomedygarden · 1 year ago

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how do they feel about the idea that the tomato is a fruit?

Tbh any hoo character that comes to mind strongest but if you need a specific idea I choose Hazel

I love this prompt! tysm 😍

y'all I did research on this one

Hazel had never given much thought to the tomato debate. They weren't her favorite to begin with, but she also just didn't have much opportunity to be around them. Growing up Black in the South in the Depression between two world wars with a mother only willing to spend her money on the finest of fineries didn't leave much room for tomatoes. Living in Alaska during wartime? Hell, no. She preferred to leave produce arguments to farmers, anyways.

Until she became a praetor.

"It's a vegetable!" a red faced son of Apollo, Thomas, yelled, standing guard in front of the Tiber.

"It's a fruit!" the brown haired daughter of Ceres screamed back. Hazel thought her name might be Molly.

Both teens were completely decked out in armor and weapons having come off guard patrol a few minutes ago, already fuming over the red food, long enough for Bailey, Camp Jupiter's newest recruit, to come get Hazel. She had been slogging away at a stack of paperwork, so she wasn't complaining.

By the time they'd returned to Thomas and Molly, the argument had escalated to a full on stand off.

The son of Apollo raised his spear. "Vegetable!"

The daughter of Ceres gripped her sword. "Fruit!"

"Okay!" Hazel said, finally stepping forward, her own gladius held out in front of her. "What is going on?" There was not a world or time Hazel thought she would ever exist in in which two people could have such strong opinions on tomatoes.

Unfortunately, that world and time did exist, and she was currently standing in it. Both Thomas and Molly erupted into bitter accusations, voices pitched so high Hazel had no hope of understanding them.

She closed her eyes and thought of a simpler, quieter time, years away from this weird tomato hell. Sadly, when she opened her eyes, she wasn't ethereal.

"One at a time," she said.

Thomas waved a hand at Molly, apparently ceding first speaker rights. She took a deep breath and began, "We were doing guard duty and somehow got on the topic of food, and he-" she pointed "-said tomato is a vegetable. Obviously, that's wrong, which I told him, and he went insane."

"I did not 'go insane,'" Thomas said, putting air quotes around 'go insane.' "I explained why tomatoes are a vegetable, and she told me to 'stop being stupid, stupid.'"

Now, Hazel was a reasonable young demigod. She knew that in matters of agriculture, she should trust the child of Ceres. She also knew that these two in particular had been getting into a lot of fights lately despite having been close friends for a while. That meant either something had happened between them or it was the teenage version of hair pulling. However, since it seemed that Molly had said the inciting line this time (and Hazel kinda wanted to see where this was going now), she couldn't in good faith just declare that Molly was right.

Hazel calmly turned to Molly. "Molly, why do you think tomatoes are a fruit?"

The other girl crossed her arms. "'Cause they are."

"Ha!" Thomas exclaimed. "She can't come up with anything."

Before Hazel could give him a thorough admonishing, Molly smirked. "Oh, I can come up with plenty, but I wouldn't want to make you look stupid."

Thomas' face somehow got even redder. "Come on-"

"For starters, fruit come from the flowering part of the plant-"

"We don't eat flowers-"

"Of course, the flower just serves as attraction. The actual fruit comes from the plant's ovaries, which is what a tomato is."

Hazel was watching the fight so intently that she completely missed the mention of the reproductive organ, though she did glance around to make sure there were no kids anywhere.

Thomas stared. "Then what are vegetables?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Any other part of the plant."

"What about pumpkin?"

"Fruit."

"Cucumber?"

"Fruit."

Thomas threw his hands up in the air, disturbingly mindless of the spear in his right hand. "Oh my gods!"

Hazel had to admit that this was starting to get a bit ridiculous.

Molly levelled a glare at Thomas. "Got something to say?"

The son of Apollo shifted. "Nutritionists and culinary-"

"Ha!" Molly scoffed. "Cause nutritionists and culinary artists know so much about botany."

Hazel continued to stand in between the two, quickly becoming less and less sure of herself. This was so far out of her depth, yet somehow seemed so high stakes. It wasn't just the tomatoes' fate she had to decide, but pumpkin, cucumber, and presumably all other juicy, seedy vegetable/fruit.

She tried to imagine what her friends would say.

"Listen to the child of Ceres," Annabeth would say. "Fruit is ovary, and tomato is fruit."

"It's squishy and seedy," Percy would say. "It's a fruit."

"There's no real taste," Frank would say. "Vegetable."

"It's low in sugar," Will would say. "It's a vegetable, and a good source of lycopene and vitamin C."

"I don't care," Nico would say. "Leave me alone."

She took too long. Without her noticing, Molly had managed to grow a medium beefsteak tomato in her hand not holding the dagger, and in one smooth motion, lobbed the thing at Thomas' head. "Eat ovary, dumbass!"

Mesmerized, Hazel watched the tomato sail through the air and land on Thomas' face. Molly should be proud of herself; the firm fruit didn't burst on impact, but instead slid to the ground where it sat, vibrantly innocent.

She decided now was the time to be a Praetor. "Seriously, guys, come on." She looked at Thomas. "Go to the infirmary and get an ice pack." Then, she turned to Molly. "And you're on stable cleaning duty for two weeks. And both of you, apologize."

Molly and Thomas both looked at her, and she sighed. "Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Ultimately, the decision was easy. Rare memories of biting into the sweet, rubbery food, juice and seeds filling her mouth, spilling out the corners and running down her chin in the summer heat of New Orleans and later under the gentle Alaska sun, filled her mind.

"It's a fruit," she said.

"Yes!" Molly clapped at the same time Thomas said, "Aw, come on."

Later, when Frank found the paperwork for the tomato incident (as Hazel had taken to calling it), she had to laugh at the confusion that covered his face as he held it up for her to see. "Um, what?"

She took his hand in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "You don't want to know."

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