#Family Friday

[wayhaughtwives]

the unkillable gay squad

[kandisheek]

Cap-Ironman Rec Week 2024

Family Friday: July 26th

Prompt: Rave about those fanworks about Steve and Tony being parents to young children, or single parents meeting other single parents, or starting a family or dealing with teenage kids or finding family, whatever family means.

As a recent converter to the whole kidfic thing, I'm very passionate about sharing the love. Here are some of my favorite family fics:

-- In Trouble Deep by FestiveFerret, SirSapling

"Whoever did this has a reason, and Stark needs to be with someone who can protect him. He won’t exactly be able to protect himself like this.” Fury looked at the baby consideringly. “No, it’s you, Steve. Besides, he likes you. Suck it up, soldier, you’re stuck with him.”

-- Take a Break by avengersandco

Steve and Tony come back from a short weekend away and come back to teenagers who have been cramming for their AP tests. The parents decide it's time for the kids to take a break.

-- blanket forts and running shoes by Perlmutt

Peter is eight years old. He loves Pokémon, pancakes, and blanket forts. His favorite pastime is helping his dad in his workshop. He might not have a mom, but that's okay. He's got his dad after all. But then Tony brings /him/ home. Steve. Steve is nice. He can cook. He makes his dad laugh. Peter decides that he will not like him. He won't allow this Steve-guy to steal his dad. Steve and Tony didn't get that memo.

MORE RECS BELOW THE CUT:

-- Bedside Manner by BladeoftheNebula

Prompt: Peter had a bad case of cold, Tony took care of Peter but is now also sick himself. Steve now has to take care of his mate and baby who are both sick with the cold.

-- Fairy Tales and Clockwork Hearts by scifigrl47

DJ was raised by Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and the rest of the Avengers, with occasional help from the rest of New York's hero population, and SHIELD. Everything he knows about love and human relationships come from people who aren't really known for their safe and sane life choices. It's pretty clear he's going to be utterly lousy at flirting. Luckily for him, he's cute.

-- Breakfast is Served by Orange_Coyote

Steve works with Peter and Morgan to give their resident genius a nice birthday surprise.

-- Sweet Child O' Mine by starspangledsprocket

After just their second outing as the Avengers, everyone except for Steve and Tony are turned into toddlers. Madness ensues.

-- ten years too late (just in time) by orphan_account

Steve never went out with Tony when they were young despite Tony's attempts at wooing him, mostly because he thought Tony was too much of a flimsy playboy who could never really commit seriously to anything that wasn't partying.  Years later he runs into Single Father Tony taking care of his 3 year old. Tony refuses to buy his kid candy before dinner and is overall a pretty decent dad. Tony also thinks Steve could never be interested in him, since he was always rebuffed before, but Tony's in for a surprise.

And two of my own fics:

-- Life on the Avengers' Fridge

What else is there to do in a tower full of bored superheroes than start a passive-aggressive post-it war?

-- With Carols And Cheer

It's Christmas at the Compound, and Tony has no idea what to get for his boyfriend without causing another giant bunny fiasco. Luckily he has his team to help him out.

[talesfrommedinastation]

“I’ve always wanted a dog.”

I’m prepping and writing out plans for the sequel to Far Past the Ring…and you know a certain Good Girl needs to be included.

And Bosmang Jim Holden would love her!

Quick doodle while waiting in between meetings. Never drawn a lurca hound before, it was interesting.

@eyecandyeoz @sued134 @cdblake1565 @perfectlywingedcrusade @supremechancellorrex @skellymom @thecoffeelorian and anyone else who enjoyed the crossover!

[cap-ironman]

Cap-IM Rec Week 2024: Family Friday

Cap-IM 2024 Rec Week wants you to rec all your favorite family fanworks today on Family Friday. Rave about those fanworks about Steve and Tony being parents to young children, or single parents meeting other single parents, or starting a family or dealing with teenage kids or finding family, whatever family means. Tell us about those fanworks that you go to when you want to read about Steve and Tony and family!

Start the weekend off with your recs for that perfect family fic!

Note: Please mark major warnings for your recs, and if you have time, let us know why you’re reccing a work.

All ways to participate with recs for the Cap-IM Rec Week 2024 on DW, Tumblr, Twitter, Instagram & Discord:

You can comment with your recs on the day on the special posts that will go up on our Dreamwidthcommunity. (Anon commenting will allow anyone to participate, even if they don’t have an account.)

Reply to the day’s tumblr post that will go up on our cap-ironman tumblr or the tweet on our cap-ironman twitter or the post on our Bluesky account and add your recs to it. Or drop a rec or two on our instagram post!

During rec week you can make a Tumblr-Post and tag it with #capimrecweek within the first five tags on the post. Please include the day’s theme you are reccing for somewhere in the body of the post. On the dedicated day we will reblog posts for the day’s theme on our community tumblr and our other socials and later include them in the masterlist.

During rec week post rec(s) on Twitter matching the day's theme and mention @ cap-ironman so that we can retweet it.

Share your recs to our cap-ironman discord server in the #stony-recs channel mentioning the day’s theme you are reccing for somewhere in the rec.

Rec Week 2024 Themes and Schedule

Better Together Monday, July 22nd: Tell us all about those fanworks where Tony and Steve are better teammates, are more competent, complete missions more efficiently and are just overall better for working and being together!

Time Travel Tuesday: July 23rd: Rec all those great fanworks where Tony or Steve (or Tony and Steve) travel to the past or the future or to an alternate past or future and discover unexpected realities and new truths!

Early Canon Wednesday, July 24th: Bring on all those fanworks set in those heady early days of canon where Steve and Tony have just met and are starting to work together.

DarkFic Thursday: July 25th: All you DarkFic lovers rec us those fanworks that hit that spot, the one where things go bad, or go from bad to worse (and even more worse) and the endings are unexpected.

Family Friday, July 26th: Rave about those fanworks about Steve and Tony being parents to young children, or single parents meeting other single parents, or starting a family or dealing with teenage kids or finding family, whatever family means.

Smut Saturday: July 27th: Give all the recs for those spicy fanworks that make your blood run hot or make your heart thump harder.

Cap-IM Sunday: July 28th: Rec all your favorite works created for one of the Cap-IronMan challenges!

[creepst-crypt]

Wouldn’t it be horrible if he’d witnessed something so scary while in Gravity Falls that he makes a memory gun and ends up using too much to the point he loses his own self identity for the next 30 years and never returns home.

[hexgirlsxoxo]

Where's the Gomez to my Morticia

[caramelldansenu]

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[rundownallstar]

The Wolf and the Lion

A young lady 's grandpa(?) Passes away inherits  the land ...her own island!!!  Her pa had a wild lady friend, a beautiful white she wolf which brings her cub into the house! The girl also literally catches a lion cub that fell out of a tree after its flight crashed. Continue reading Untitled

[mired-in-halloween]

"Oh, I couldn't make it this Friday -- I've so many things to do. It's the thirteenth, you know."

[ayo-edebiri]

#Happy Birthday Wednesday Addams

[wayhaughtwives]

the best family 🥹

[weirdlookindog]

Charles Addams - Friday the 13th

[talesfrommedinastation]

Is Feel Good Friday a thing? What about Family Friday?

I redid a piece of art I did last year: it had so many sloppy errors in it, but I loved the subject matter and the composition. Back to the drawing board.

That subject matter? Post-Far Past the Ring. Omega’s been named as a page for President Camina Drummer and Tech is Chief Systems Engineer for the Transport Union. They’re wearing their respective uniforms.

The little girl is Meg Drummer, Tech’s daughter with Camina’s cousin, Sjael. Yes, she has her own version of Lula, named ‘Maraudah’ (the Belter accented version of ‘Marauder’) and painted like her daddy’s old armor.

Tagging some folks that might enjoy this sweetness: @warsamongthestars @eyecandyeoz @eclec-tech @techs-stitches @ilikemymendarkandfictional @isthereanechoinhere96 @perfectlywingedcrusade @askwenjing @autistic-artistech @amalthiaph @sometimes-i-talk-a-lot @sued134 @deezlees @freesia-writes @littlefeatherr @supremechancellorrex @nahoney22 @notavalidusername @nika6q @marymunchkiin @merkitty49 @moosethren @wrenkenstein @cdblake1565

[shupito]

I missed my wholesome buff boy. For all you desperate souls out there 💚

[montereybayaquarium]

Flowing fluidly from that feeling of foreboding as we freely fling ourselves into Friday, and float on the fun thoughts of frivolity that await us on the week’s finale.