#It's a Friday anyways so :pp

[nervocat]

Guys I'm in a mood rn where I just wanna like. Go out into this stereotypical ethereal comforting forest and just walk around and collect rocks and stuff.. bring some binoculars for birdwatching perhaps as well!!

[munch-mumbles]

had to donate blood earlier today because my blood cell count was too high at my last pp appt to get my t renewed and god. why didnt anyone warn me about your arm going all hot but also cold and not hurting but definitely feeling insanely weird and uncomfortable and Bad. LITERALLY NO ONE TOLD ME SO I WASNT READY AT ALL AND I STARTED MONKEY BRAIN FREAKING OUT

[smoopy]

update— it was kind of a shit show but i made it thru!!

i take the lsat tomorrow!!! shaking in my little boots wish me luck

[charlesandmartine]

Friday 25th October 2024

Now if we had checked into the Cooinda Lodge by phone or online, we would have missed that look, albeit for just a second or less on the face of the receptionist when she said, you are here a week? Slight inflection there on 'week'. The look said, a week here? I only stay here a week because they pay me? The last people who booked in for a week were eaten by dingos after three days. It was only a slight look, but we both saw it, and it was slightly unnerving.

Anyway we made it through the first night and took a walk through the lodge grounds to the billabong passing the disclaimer signs about crocodile encounters. Early riser kangaroos foraging and general waking up noises from other guests; a diminishing breed due to end of season.

We discovered that we had breakfast included. Joy. We attended as required around 8am just to be sure they didn't run out. We were expecting just a continental rush job, but no, it was the full works. Gorgeous poached eggs done just right, sausages, English style bacon (not the horrible little crispy bits you often get), hash browns, mushrooms, tomatoes and baked beans. One point lost for no black pudding! We were like ravenous hyenas that have been starved for 3 weeks. We cleared the lot and saved some cake type bits for lunch. I should also mention the smoked salmon I suppose. We were so full come luncheon we skipped it.

An hour by the pool and we set off for the site that we had viewed on YouTube. It is at Cahill's Crossing, a causeway that crosses East Alligator River which is the divide with a vast area called Arnhem Land. The causeway disappears at high tide allowing the Barramundi access to the upper stretch of the river presumably to spawn. This attracts the attention of several hundred interested crocodiles, which attracts the tourists. So we drove 90kms to take a look at this. The lodge told us 4.30pm would be high tide. Possibly what the failed to share was that today was to be an estimated 4.7m tide, and and to make the bookies happy it needed to be 5m. So we were on time, others joined us, but the causeway remained irritatingly visible and the carnage route firmly shut. The crocs turned up, the Barramundi showed but there was no actual breaching of the causeway, no crocs chasing fish. We saw crocs, we saw fish, so not entirely wasted 180kms round trip. There are warning signs saying you risk your life walking the causeway. Three people did whilst we waited and we just wondered, if they were to be chased by a crocodile what odds were there 80% would film it 19% would panic and 1% would try to help?

We drove back fearful it was approaching dusk and not the time of day to be driving in case a traffic naïve kangaroo steps out in front of your radiator. None thankfully did, but we did see a mother dingo and her two pups standing by the edge of the road.

Great day. Dinner and SB on the patio as the sun firmly set.

ps 42 degrees at one point today.

pps. Since this area was where Dundee was filmed, we passed by hills that looked very familiar to Dundee 2. Also our croc infested billabong looks just like the one the baddy got eaten.

[kingsansa]

Hi!!! When do you think we can have a new PP chapter? I don't want to stress you at all, and this may sound weird lol but I'm having surgery on Friday and obviously it's nothing important at all, no life threatening surgery at all but I'm so anxious about it last night I thought, fuck, what if I die and I'll never know what the hell happens to Jon and Sansa?????! Anyways this to say I love your stories so much! Have a lovely day!

Oh my god!!!! This motivated me to try to open up really soon! I’m gonna try to post a sneak peek really early tomorrow so you can at least have something to read before you go in. I hope your surgery goes well! Please let me know how it goes!

[vogelmeister]

anyways i’m thinking about my birthday and im wondering what i should do (its in june). i dont wanna just go out to dinner because i did that last year and it was basically just… ik i can do better. whatever i do i know ill probably do on the friday or saturday night before or after bc my birthday is a weekday. it will also probably be my high school group (5 ppl) my hometown friends (2 ppl) and my work bestie (1 ppl).

1. powerpoint night.

pros:

- its cheap. can be done at my house and is really casual

- this is something i’ve wanted to do for a while (i actually wanted one for my 19th but my ex friends talked me out of it because they wouldn’t like it)

- my friends who havent met my cat can meet my cat

cons:

- will be getting a few different groups of friends together so it may be awkward for these people to present/ find topic

- my sister turned the ‘hangout space” into her hsc study area and really is anti giving it up for one night (i tried once). also her stuff gives bad vodoo bc hsc

- will probably have to kick family out

- i feel some ppl find the notion of a powerpoint presentation stressful bc high school (probably why my ex friends weren’t too keen)

- my house isnt great for public transport and funnily enough the friends who live furthest away don’t have their license . its a locals only bus service. you can tell.

2. escape room

pros

- really easy team building plus it doesn’t matter if its all different groups /some people don’t know each other well.

cons.

- expensive as fuck

- done lots of escape rooms

- doing with lots of people can be overwhelming and smaller teams kinda work better here (i did an escape room once and the team was like ten people and it was Too Much. i stood there useless half the time.)

3. quiz room

pros.

- really cool and unique also im a sucker for trivia and irl game show sounds cool.

- probably good for my desired group size.

- public transport accessible

cons.

- its literally $45 pp and like ik my friends aren’t that stingy but even im going… yikes

- will probably have to be organised far in advance

4. karaoke

pros.

- really affordable if you do it right

- reliable. really easy to organise and i know how to.

- public transport accessible

cons.

- my friends and i do this all the time

- once again the three ppl there who don’t really know my high school friends might find it awkward

- if i do it i wanna go somewhere other than my place in chinatown

anyways idk. sound off in replies if you have advice or ideas bc i generally do not know anymore. might out up a poll.

[edisacornball]

So I've been avoiding posting about it because it's honestly just... a depressing state of affairs, but. We got my first paycheck in, yes. But it turns out that me absolutely busting my ass trying to just manage getting to work and staying presentable while homeless... only gives us a week of safety for every two-week paycheck. Which is... not ideal. Okay, way beyond unideal, it's unsustainable and kind of insulting. I freaking hate the state of things in America right now.

So anyway, all that to say that... We're kind of stuck for the week until my next paycheck comes in on Friday. And right now, that means facing down te fact that we need $100 to have shelter today, and trying to work a traditional job has had me kind of busted so I can't do the usual creative sidework I normally try to do to help out.

If anyone could help, it would honestly make such a difference. I'm trying so, so freaking hard to get us out of this, but sometimes the walls feel so freaking unscalable with stuff like this.

P*yp*l:  Clicky Thingy C*sh*pp: $thatashfordperson V*nm*: @thatashfordperson K*f*: Clicky Thingy 2: Electric Boogaloo

[rosieuv]

Edgy Yandere Simulator AU thing?

The 1980s mode is a proper yandere simulator. I don't see why the 202X version is going down a similar route considering that Ayano is just a mentally disturbed kuudere and not a yandere. A key thing about the 202X version is info-chan. She's more of a plot device in the actual game and I think she deserves more of a purpose. So, here's my idea on how to make Yandere Simulator a cool horror game.

So obviously it won't be called "Yandere Simulator" if you're not simulating being a Yandere. I think a title like "The murders of Akedemi High" would be more sutible. 1980s more is a prequel right? So why should the 202X version be almost the same but 30 years in the future? Ayano doesn't feel emotions and only feels them when she's with Taro. In this universe: Ayano is an assassin like in mission mode, and works for info-chan just like in the real game. Ayano instead feels that dopamine rush when torturing and murdering people. Unlike mission mode, Taro is still alive and is now a yandere. That's how the 202X and the 1080's mode are different, as you want to murder a specific target, but someone's already done the job for you. To get past the week, you have to get to the victim first, before he does. I also thought that setting it so it's each month a new victim appears would make more sense, and each level is 1 week in that month. If you get to after school on Friday, then taro kills your target and you get a game over. I think it'll be a cool idea if she slowly loses sanity as the week progresses as she gets more desperate to escape the prison that is feeling empty and emotionless. I got the idea of Taro being a yandere from a concept video on YouTube by Akira Shimitsu where the rivals swapped genders as the roles changed. I would leave the rivals as girls as it's less about love and more about a lust for blood. Maybe Ayano can be like a succubus to lure them in to their death? Idk. It would make sense why Taro would want to kill them as he wouldn't know Ayano is going to kill them off anyway. I also think it'll be interesting if Taro goes completely insane in week 9 where his sister, Hanako, falls in love with Ayano. To make sure they don't become a couple, he kills her (which he doesn't do in the concept video I mentioned earlier btw) but absolutely loses it after. That's when he realised there's something very wrong with him, but at that point he'll do anything to be with Ayano.

Info-chan gives you stuff in return for "info points" (which you get by putting microphones and cameras everywhere) and panty shots. I'm taking this a step further by info-chan helping Ayano in exchange for nudes of various girls that Ayano kidnapped and tortures in her basement. Oh and I guess panty shots too, but what kind of school has short skirts as the uniforms? Info-chan will say this is for "selling on" as she mentions she does that with the panty shots in the original game, but she actually keeps a lot of them to herself for her own porn collection. Taro will eventually realise Ayano is connected to info-chan, so he'll try to kill her at the end of the game.

I have no idea how I would make this into a fan game. It's very big and in depth and I don't know how to code in 3D. I think it'll be interesting if the 1080s mode was it's own separate game as a prequel, then this can be the dark horrific one but still with the pink aesthetic in comparison to 1080s mode vapour-wave aesthetic. The idea could do with some polishing, but what do you think?

Also the characters will look like the redesigns from "some bread" that they did a while back because they just looke better imo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5WMHoJPlMic&list=WL&index=14&pp=gAQBiAQB

Essay over.

[murmew]

help

rainbow six siege got its fangs on me and i imagine Vertin on the SAS and Sonetto from the GIS (the Italian counter-terrorism special force)

Vertin being lowkey and covered up while Sonetto geared hard af

do you think they just

breach each other's breakable walls and do rifle suppressor tapping 🥺

I'm absolutely flabbergasted that you play the same games as me. I used to play so much R6 (flexible main 😇). Anyway, military gear is very cool, I might actually draw something for your idea teehee (but it's busy until Friday for me and I have a slowly growing backlog of things I want to draw 🫠)

PS Wallbang 🫦

PPS My friend told me to name anons like pets or something, so I officially name you 🌵. I'm not sure how this works, but if it's you next time, just end the ask with a 🌵 ig hahaha (just in case there happens to be more than one of you anons, then I won't get you guys mixed up)

[horce-divorce]

if your state even has a Planned Parenthood that does HRT- Michigan doesn't for example, but Wisconsin does- you're also likely to have to rely on a center that has limited funding and therefore, the WORST possible hours. The only 2 PPs around here are both an hour from us in opposite directions. One is only open Tuesdays 9-5. The other one is open Thursdays and Fridays 9-5.

I have 1 dose of testosterone left. I usually take it on Tuesdays. I was supposed to have taken my last dose already. My pharmacy won't refill my T right now, probably because they can't reach my doctor- not until Tuesday! At least in Mich they'd refill me 4 bottles at a time, ahead of time. Here they give me 2 and I have to refill it the DAY OF!!!!!! What the FUCK!!!!!

This is just one of those access barriers I never see anyone discussing. Medicaid covers it here and in Michigan, but good luck actually finding someone to order and/or fill your prescription, and good luck getting refills on time! And so many people are just like "oh you want hormones? Just go to PP!" Like that's not already a multiple hours long drive on top of all the other barriers (I do not live in the city)

Anyway I've been having endo flares bc I can't fucking take my T regularly under these conditions, and Bel has also been dysregulated and not taking his T for the same reasons. I hate it here

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Favorite Dragon Prince Quotes

...Yes, this is a thinly veiled excuse to talk more about this series, which my brain is refusing to shut up about lately. It's also a thinly-veiled excuse to try some different book photo things. And mess around with filters and stuff, because somehow I washed the green out of the background and managed to make the photographic covers look...well, The Dragon Prince's Betrayal full-on looks like it was done with oil pastels, so go me. I have ZERO CLUE how I did that.

What we're ACTUALLY doing with this post though is picking my favorite quotes from each book. I do not promise no spoilers, so beware and enjoy!

"Even if I was willing to marry you after one hot make-out session in a pool, you should know..." she paused, her hazel gaze skidding away from his and Toren could sense her fear. "It doesn't matter." "It kind of does," Carina said, looking up through her eyelashes at him. "Since Alaska undoubtedly has an extradition agreement with the United States and I'm pretty sure I'm wanted for murder."

-- pp. 60-61, The Dragon Prince of Alaska

The sound of shattering glass was her cue, and at that moment, she tightened her grip on the leash in her hand, yanking down as hard as she could. "Bad dog!" she shouted, and a black dragon dropped out of the sky onto them.

-- p. 224, The Dragon Prince of Alaska

"What's your plan of attack?" "I pick her up at six," Rian said. "I'll take her to the nicest Indian restaurant in the area." "Taxi? Limo? A bicycle built for two?" Rian hadn't thought that far ahead. "Ah, a limo?" "Got a company lined up? It's Friday, they might not have last-minute availability. You got a good suit to wear?" "I'm wearing my uniform." "Oh, that's subtle," Tray scoffed. [...] Do you have a hotel lined up? Where do you plan to take her afterwards?" "I..." Rian hadn't even considered what would happen next. "This is unlike you little brother," Tray teased. "Aren't you usually the one who is scheduled to the minute? I suppose you called the credit card company to let them know you'd be making purchases in Florida so they don't block you for fraud when you try to pay for your date?" "I...ah..." Rian patted his pockets in sudden alarm. "Did you at least bring a copy of your diplomatic passport?" Tray sighed. Rian gave a groan. "No passport?" Tray guessed. "I forgot my wallet." Tray really did drop his phone then; Rian could hear him chortling as he fumbled for it."

-- p. 30, The Dragon Prince's Librarian

"Toren said that he and Carina felt...what they were going to feel, before it really grew naturally between them," Rian said hesitantly. "And each other, that they felt each other. What the other one was feeling. For a little while, anyway. Spells fade." Tania winced. "I'm sorry for that, then," she said bitterly. "But I'm glad it's only for a little while. Does it go away quickly?" It took Rian a moment to understand what she meant. "I'm not sorry. This..." he gestured at her can, and the tidy row of prescription bottles on the counter, "it's part of who you are. I wish I could take it from you, but I'm not sorry to know what it's like." Tania's eyes were hollow, but tearless. "How much of it do you...get?" Rian considered. "I feel like I'm sitting on something desperately uncomfortable, not sharp pain, just dull, heavy, and heavier still because it feels so inevitable."

-- p. 43-44, The Dragon Prince's Librarian

"Those aren't the receipts for your cane," Rian said leadingly. Tania looked closer at the pages. "Five hundred hand-carved canes?" "They aren't as fancy as yours," Rian said swiftly. "That's one-of-a-kind. But you said that no one should have to make do with the ugly ones insurance covers. This won't be enough for everyone of course, but the workshop said they couldn't make more than that in three months, so we're starting here. They'll be distributed to all the clinics and village health centers." Tania made herself close her mouth as soon as she realized that it was hanging open, and she flipped to the next receipt, only to find herself opening it again in astonishment. "This is so much!" "You shouldn't have to be royalty to get decent medical care," Rian told her firmly, and Tania recognized her own words. "This ought to go a little ways and help a few people, at least. I've hired an advisor to make sure that it goes to the people who need it, and that the application process isn't a nightmare and there aren't any weird tax loopholes..."

-- p. 214, The Dragon Prince's Librarian

"I'm sure my fiancé will greatly appreciate our safe return," Leinani said gently. [...] Tray didn't even attempt politeness. "And by appreciate, her highness means that you are about to face a fuckton of angry dragons."

-- p. 61, The Dragon Prince's Bride

"We don't want you, highness," Scoff sneered. "Amara wants the princess." Tray jerked as if they'd shot him. "No, no, she promised! I have my dragon again, you can take me, you don't get to do this to her."

-- p. 182, The Dragon Prince's Bride

"You really should try to get some sleep," he said, swinging his legs off the bed. "It's hard. What you just went through. I know." He yawned and gave an exaggerated stretch. And the couch is calling me. I waited up all night, you know. That whole platonic worried roommate thing."

-- p. 191, The Dragon Prince's Bride

They had always been like water and oil, Kenth resisting his older brother's imperious direction and acting more reckless than necessary just to needle him. It had been little more than sibling rivalry at first, but the death of their mother had changed their relationship to active antipathy. Fask blamed Kenth for not being there to save her. Kenth didn't actually blame himself any less, but it poisoned any warmth that had remained between them. And then Dana...

-- pp. 33-34, The Dragon Prince's Secret

Kenth reached out and hung up. "Gig's up," he said firmly. He turned to Mackenzie. "Stay here, stay safe. We're doing this my way now." Allowing no further argument, he shifted and surged up into the sky, flying straight for the hotel and his daughter. He heard Toren protest behind him, "This is not a plan! This is the opposite of a plan! What are you doing?!"

-- p. 54, The Dragon Prince's Secret

What did you say to someone who was dying? Beg him to fight? Apologize for dragging him into this mess in the first place? Confess her feelings? She couldn't untangle the emotions in her heart, let alone on her tongue. But she could thank him, and make sure that he knew how grateful she was.

-- p. 105, The Dragon Prince's Secret

"You gave me the sky," she said, tearfully grateful and glad. "It was always yours," Kenth told her. "And no one can take it from you now."

-- p. 242, The Dragon Prince's Secret

"Oh that's glorious," she said. "Is it magic?" "No, but this is..." Raval dragged his fingers over a well-worn passage. "Pause," he said. All of the water stopped, every particle suspended in midair, and Katy sucked in her breath. Every drop was a motionless jewel, and they were standing in a chamber of glistening enchantment. It was beautiful, which had not been part of Raval's original purpose, but he was glad of it now, because Katy loved it so much. "I've never seen anything like it," she gasped. "I'm in a chandelier!" She swept a hand through the hanging drops, dragging them along behind her in a trail of sparkling lights.

-- pp. 77-78, The Dragon Prince's Magic

"You are magic," she said in awe. Then she scrutinized him. "Why does this make you feel guilty?" "It's frivolous," Raval said frankly. "It serves no one but me. It was months of work that I did only for myself. It can't be duplicated and I don't even want anyone in my bathroom to enjoy it." He quickly added, "Except for you." "You're allowed to have projects for yourself," Katy said kindly. Raval could not feel a single hint of disappointment in her, so she must understand. "It was a lot of work. I ought to focus that kind of effort on something that betters humanity or saves lives or fixes realistic problems." There was a softness to Katy's mind that made Raval recognize all the prickles of his own. "I love you," she said. "I love you to the very bottom of your giant heart."

-- p. 78, The Dragon Prince's Magic

Knowing academically about magic was a lot different from suddenly being transported somewhere unknown in a fiery magical explosion, so Katy thought it was probably understandable that she screamed and clutched at Lancelot.

-- p. 97, The Dragon Prince's Magic

A baby. Katy's baby. His baby. A baby they made.

-- p. 140, The Dragon Prince's Magic

"You are missing ussssss," a disembodied voiced boomed through the stone walls, and then, suddenly, there was a ring of spirits around the table in the center of the cavern. They looked, at a glance, mostly human, but each of them was wreathed in an aspect of their element. A man seemed made of stone, his skin moving like little pebble landslides as he walked. A woman had trees for hair and leaves over her body like feathers. One man seemed to be smoldering, shrouded in smoke, and another was actively wearing flames. And there was Angel, standing soaking wet like she'd just come up out of the water, her hair wild around her.

-- p. 291, The Dragon Prince's Betrayal

The Alaskan prince collapsed onto Angel, who gave a gargle of pain and triumph. Violet flames wreathed them both and died away, leaving only a tangle of charred flesh and a puddle that might have been water...or blood.

-- p. 297, The Dragon Prince's Betrayal

"What was the bet that had Rian wandering naked around the castle? If we're going to get married, you can't keep a secret that huge from me." Alasie's eyes danced, even though her lips were as serene as ever. "That was the bet," she revealed. Drayger stated at her, waiting for the sentence to make sense. When it didn't, he persisted. "What was the bet? How was that the bet? I don't get it." "It wasn't Rian wandering the castle in the nude," Alasie said. "It was Tray. The bet was he could mimic his twin so successfully that even if he spent a week completely stark naked he could still fool everyone." Drayger stared. "And he did."

-- pp. 323-324, The Dragon Prince's Betrayal

Y'all...these books might be silly, fluffy shifter romances, but I literally cannot explain how they ended up living rent-free in my head. Hopefully some of these quotes explain it a bit.

Barring that, you might just have to read the books to figure it out.

[apn-music]

Safari Pedals' 60s and 70s vintage reverb sound plug-in 'Rhino Reverb' (for just $4 in Black Friday sale)

Safari Pedals has released an interesting plugin. Safari Pedals previously collaborated with Joe Chiccarelli to release a reverb and drive pedal called Dirty Dog Reverb. The Rhino Reverb released this time doesn't seem like a typical reverb either. In fact, for music producers, the bundled reverb plug-in built into their DAW may be sufficient. A sound designer may want a more unique and diverse reverb effect, but a mixing engineer or performer needs to pay attention to the quality of the 'DRY' source before adding reverb.

But often the reverb built into DAWs leaves us wanting. We wish the reverb sounded a little better. I want my vocals, guitars, and drums to shine a little more by adding some overtones and some pleasant coloring. It's unclear what hardware the Rhino Reverb was designed to emulate. The website says it was inspired by Legendary HiFi reverb amplifiers from the 60s and 70s. Anyway, the Rhino Reverb sounds very natural and warm. Also, there are not many operating controls, so you can create effects very simply.

The biggest advantage of all is this. Now through the 27th you can get the Rhino Reverb for just $4 under the Safari Pedals Black Friday sale! The regular price is $32, which is not expensive, but for those who are thinking about giving it a try, $4 is an amount they can pay without hesitation. Below are samples of several Rhino Reverbs posted on YouTube, including Safari Pedals. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwa5D2M2nfM&pp=ygUZc2FmYXJpIHBlZGFsIHJoaW5vIHJldmVyYg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsV5VfrVKN4&pp=ygUZc2FmYXJpIHBlZGFsIHJoaW5vIHJldmVyYg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJU3hJxLXzA&pp=ygUZc2FmYXJpIHBlZGFsIHJoaW5vIHJldmVyYg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2JUbh90faYo&pp=ygUZc2FmYXJpIHBlZGFsIHJoaW5vIHJldmVyYg https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMI1-8dkDIk&pp=ygUZc2FmYXJpIHBlZGFsIHJoaW5vIHJldmVyYg Features include: - A blend knob - A unique filter slider - Subtile but cool width knob Plugin Requirements: - MacOS: VST3, AU, AAX | Windows 64bit: VST3 - 2 GHz Intel Dual Core Processor or AMD equivalent (PC) - 8GB of RAM (16gb of ram recommended) - Mac OS - Windows 8 & Above You can purchase the Rhino Reverb from Safari Pedals at this link. Additionally, other Safari Pedals products are also having a Black Friday sale until November 27th. Read the full article

[moldexorcist]

24/1/2020

dearest diary !! it me.

today i did practically the same thing as yesterday .. whoops. But hey! It’s Friday! So that’s exciting teehee..

There was a whole thing on the news today about .. ww3. Man that would benefit me a TON! Imagine… war… no exams !!! That’s lit.

Anyway, that’s all! See you tomorrow, dearest diary :PP

[attollogame]

could you share more about sysba's language? owo

YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN. I’m a little bit proud of myself for this (slowly crafted) language, so I’m definitely happy to share it with you!!!

So Sysba’s language is called ‘Ioctaxari’; Lovecraftian lore—which the whole eldritch concept is based off of—has a language, but there are no firmly established guidelines for it so I said fuck it, I’ll do my own. Ioctaxari takes from Welsh Gaelic and older Germanic languages in order to make the terms that are often used.

In terms of naming, Elder Gods often own a name of their own choosing and a “true” name, such as the case with Sysba (going by Sysba, Moloch, etc) and their “true” name of ‘Ymnar. True names are often tied in with the Elder God’s abilities, origin, etc. Elder Gods do not possess surnames or 'parental ties', but in the case of Sysba, they jokingly took the second half of their Fathers name (Korath) and applied that as their surname. This is not correct in terms of the structure of the Ioctaxari language—but Sysba doesn’t follow any rules anyway, so are we surprised?

One thing that should be noted regarding Ioctaxari is that concepts of time are non-existent. Therefore, numbers used by this language are ones used exclusively by Sysba, Florence, and Abraxas, created after the exile of Sysba and the departure of Florence and Abraxas. This applies to days of the week and months as well. For Elder Gods, since time doesn’t exist, there’s no need to track it—but for Sysba, Florence, and Abraxas, staying on earth has made them adapt these habits so that, in the few cases they communicate to one another in Ioctaxari, the flow of conversation still works.

Here’s an example of the numbers taken from Ioctaxari:

0—Oen | 1—El | 2—Ta | 3—Den | 4—Fi | 5—Pen | 6—Zech | 7—Rhk | 8—Zhr | 9—Nach | 10—Xi | 11—Ihe | 12—Yath | 13—Xiden | 14—Xifi | 15—Xipen | 16—Xizech | 17—Xirhk | 18—Xizhr | 19—Xinach | 20—Ta-en | 21—Ta-en el | 22—Ta-en ta…| 30—Den-en | 40—Fi-en | 50—Pen-en | 60—Zech-en | 70—Rhk-en | 80—Zhr-en | 90—Nach-en | 100—Xi-thera | 200—Ta-xi-thera | 201—Ta-xi-thera el | 300—Den-xi-thera… etc.

And the Alphabet:

Aa—Ah | Bb—Bah | Cc—Cèh | Chch—Cah | Dd—Di | DdDd— Edd | Ee—Eh |Ff—Ef | Gg—Eg (Gh produces a J sound) | Hh—Aest |Ii—Iy | IhIh—I’ch | Kk—Kah | Ll—Ell | LlLl—Eh | Mm—Em | Nn—En | Ngng—Eng | Oo—Ohr | Pp—Pah | Rr—Aehr | Rhrh—Rhi | Ss—Es | Tt—Ti | Thth—Etha | Uu—Uhr | Vv—Vah | Ww—V | Xx—Ek | Xixi—Ziy | Yy—Zay | Zz—Zeh | Zhzh—Shah

I also have days of the week, months, and seasons:

Days of the week

Sunday—Sol Ddhar | Monday—Luhn Ddhar | Tuesday—Toth Ddhar | Wednesday—Ngyr Ddhar | Thursday—Cihl Ddhar |Friday—Gauth Ddhar | Saturday—Som Ddhar

Months

January—Cri-ehr | February—Llyanehr |March—Gwehndd |April—Glatil | May—Stelnuhr |June—Uhlan | July—Ghaih | August—Rhan | September—Medrendel |October—Bliefendel | November—Sahmendel | December—Noxendel

Seasons

Spring—Glahnys |Summer—Buhys |Winter—Crihys |Fall—Rhaxhys

Note: endings are altered if things go from singular to plural. For example, Brenfih (A loaf of bread) can become Brenfihre (Loaves of bread). Sol Ddhar (Sunday) becomes Sol Ddhara (Sundays).

Here’s a basic sentence:

Mira enew yn Ames. Ihr llyah crihys, ihr hazhal buhys.

My name is Ames. I love winter, I hate summer.

Obviously it’s still a work in progress in regards to grammar rules and other such things, but I’m enjoying picking away at it!!! Thank you for asking!

[ryqoshay]

Putting on Hairs: Eldritch Ingredients

Primary Pairing: N/A Starring: Setsuna, Honoka Implied Ship: YuuAyuSetsu Rating: G Words: 392 AU: Theater, Eldritch Creatures Fandom: Love Live, Love Live Nijigasaki Parent Fic: Putting on Hairs - Post Production Time Frame: Sometime during the main story Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Order Content Warning: Unconventional Food Choices

---------

Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 21st

Summary: Setsuna discusses some things with Honoka

---------

“Ne, Honoka-san.”

“Hi Setsuna-chan!” The caterer greeted the actor warmly. “What can I do for you?”

“May I ask something of you?”

“Of course.”

“The last few times you’ve delivered, I’ve noticed something about the food.”

“Oh? Do you not like it?”

“Quite the contrary, I have enjoyed it very much. However, I cannot help noticing a particular ingredient.”

“Nothing but the best for Umi-chan and Dia-san’s theater.”

“It is indeed good.” Setsuna blinked and let her eyes change to their fiery form. “<But that’s not what I meant.>” The Cthughan switched to an ancient language she was certain the Elder Thing spawn would understand.

Honoka drew an uneasy breath.

“<Did you use oƃ-ıɯ pǝɔuıɯ?>”

“<Yes.>” Honoka admitted. “<I’m so sorry, I…>”

“<Can you tell me where to get some?>”

“Eh?”

“I haven’t had it in ages!” Setsuna switched back to Japanese and grabbed Honoka’s hand. “Please, you’ve got to tell me where I can order it! I’ve searched everywhere!”

“O… Oh.” Honoka relaxed. “I thought you were going to expose my secret ingredient…”

“Well, I’d like to make something for Ayumu-san and Yuu-san with it, to repay some of the kindness they’ve shown me. But I won’t tell them you use it to enhance your restaurant’s food.”

“Thank you.” Honoka smiled. “I worry what people might think about such unusual ingredients.”

Setsuna glanced around the theater crew gathered nearby. “I doubt anybody here would mind. Anyway, if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“Right, uhm, the place is a little hard to find.”

“It’s local?” Setsuna could feel herself getting excited. “Would they be open after I get off this afternoon?”

“They’re actually open all day, every day.”

“Do you know if they have everything to make ʍǝʇs ʞɐʇuɐɥs?”

“Absolutely. That’s an old favorite of mine.” Honoka grinned. “Have you ever tried ǝɹɐʇɹɐʇ ʞɐǝʇs ʞɐʇuɐɥs?”

Setsuna shook her head. “Isn’t that raw?”

“Yup, but it’s so~ good! Especially with a fresh ƃƃǝ ɥʇoƃƃoɥs on top.”

Setsuna couldn’t help licking her lips. She’d never considered such a delectable sounding dish.

“Exactly.” Honoka laughed lightly as she noticed the response. “Anyway, let me give you instructions on how to find the entrance to the store. Wanna exchange contact info?”

Setsuna nodded and pulled out her phone. She couldn’t wait to make one of her favorite dishes for her friends. And maybe try a few new ones.

---------

Author’s Note Continued: This works as part of a prequel for Eldritch Cooking, an entry I wrote for a Femslash Friday prompt a little while back; I’ve since copied it to the PoH-PP collection on AO3 so it can be found there as well. I’d like to expand on this more, as well as eventually write Setsu’s trip to the eldritch store.

I started out with the Cooking chapter with the amusing idea that Setsu’s cooking is purple because she uses eldritch ingredients. But this new chapter may possibly counter that, if Honoka also uses such things and is able to serve normal looking and tasting food to the general public. I did kinda sorta cover that base with the idea that adding normal spices could make a dish passably normal, but I may still play around with things. Maybe the difference is the ratio of normal and eldritch ingredients. Or maybe it’s a difference in skill between Setsu and Honk. Maybe both. Maybe some other reason. We’ll see. I’ll keep thinking about it.

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt 3 (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4, Pt 5)

-----

There were two things in life that Peter was unequivocally certain were true.

Number one was that Monday mornings were a universally despised, unpleasant experience that no weekend could ever ease the pain of having to endure.

And number two: Sit-ups were a specific and profound mechanism of torture that no person should ever be required to engage in, recreationally or mandated.

Of course, it would be just his luck that the two were combined on this very Monday morning.

It was cruel and unusual is what it was, Peter thought, hands curled at his temples as he pushes himself into a sitting position, falling back onto the dewy grass with a thud that steals the breath from his chest.

Bucky, holding his ankles, encourages him to complete his set.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps, his stomach trembling as he pulls himself up again. “I - oh fuck - I hate this. I hate exercise.”

Bucky squeezes his ankles tighter. “C’mon, Parker, only three more. You can do it.”

Peter shakes his head, even as he pulls himself up again with a pained groan.

“No, I can’t. Make it stop.”

“Two more. You got it. Sit-ups are not the boss of you.”

“Yes - ahh - they are!”

“One more!”

Sweat pours down his neck and his muscles protest as he pulls himself up for the last time. He gets probably only most of the way up before his gravity slams to the ground.

Bucky slaps his bare calf encouragingly as Peter stares up into the glaring morning sun, arms splayed out, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Oh, god. Never again. That was the worst. 

Covering his eyes with his quivering arms he wonders if maybe coach will indulge him just this once. Maybe he can stay here until training is over, perhaps curl up into a ball and try to blend in with the grass so that no one sees him or subjects him to any more exercise. 

Except Coach Danvers is already yelling at him to get off the ground and get moving.

He smacks his hands over his ears but it’s no use.

“Get up Parker, last warning!”

“Respite!” He yells back pleadingly, curling in tighter upon himself. “Please!”

Her whistle pierces the air.

“Now!”

Coach has been on edge all morning. Her harsh has turned razor edged in the face of their upcoming match against Kingston this Thursday, reminding the team of her expectations, tolerating nothing other than complete dedication.

Which, whatever.

Peter’s dedicated, okay? It’s Monday. He dragged his ass out of bed to be here at an unholy hour, exhausted and bloated from his indulgent weekend, didn’t he?

Erring on the margin of spite towards Danvers and self motivation, which he suspects is her aim, he pushes himself back up. Taking each of Bucky’s ankles in his grip, he starts counting as Bucky begins his set. 

Not that he needs the assistance, Bucky proves his strength by ripping through the set like a bull stampeding through a brick wall. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Dude’s crazy athletic.

It’s really not fair.

As he mentally counts the reps, Peter thinks Bucky’s the kind of fit that Peter both hoped and never hoped to be. He’s effortlessly capable at any physical task, but he works hard for it, harder than Peter would ever dream of working, dedicating hours to gym time and conditioning. Bucky’s not even out of breath when he strikes up conversation. 

“How was your weekend, PP?”

“S’okay. Played Mario Kart with my Aunt all weekend.”

Bucky grins as his upper half rises to meet his knees. “Oh, party animal. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” Peter grins wryly, taking one of his hands from the other’s ankle to push the sweat-damp hair from his eyes. “Kicked my ass though. She always takes Toad.”

“Switch?”

“Nah, GameCube. How was your weekend?”

“Boring. Parents were home all weekend and wanted some ‘family time’.”

“So, you just watched The Voice all weekend?”

“Yup.”

“Nat sneak in after?”

“Yup. How’d it go with Stark on Friday?” Bucky accepts Peter’s hand as he finishes his set. Peter pulls him up and pats him on the back.

The set off in a jog to complete a lap of the field, Coach yells that only five minutes are left, urging them to pick up speed. Peter’s lungs burn when he speaks.

“It was fine.”

Bucky looks at him dubiously, flyaways whipping at his face.

“Well not like, fine-fine, but no bloodshed. See? All limbs intact.” He holds his arms out mid-sprint. 

“Wow, so you’re basically best friends now.”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands and braid each other’s hair?”

Incensed, Peter shoves at Bucky to the sound of his snickering,

“Ew, stop, I just had breakfast. Look, the first experience was painful enough. Can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about it.”

---

“And then he hit on my Aunt,” Peter complains in the showers, soaping up his chest. “Literally right in front of me. Who does that?”

“Did she flirt back?” Bucky asks, dipping his head into the spray. 

“What? No. He said he was just trying to get under my skin,” he puts his head beneath his own shower head, the water pleasantly lukewarm against his heated skin. “I mean, what kind of psychopath does that?”

“Yeah, but your aunt is super hot though,” Wilson says to his right. “Stark’s an asshole, but he’s not crazy.”

There is a general murmur of agreement around the showers. 

“I’m going to need you all to shut up right now,” Peter warns, turning to point at them all. “Keep my aunts name out of your mouth while you’re washing your balls, alright?”

“You heard him, move on,” Rogers cuts in, offering Peter a sympathetic smile. 

He nods gratefully as conversation quickly turns to girls, grades and the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays. There was a reason why Peter was on Roger’s side all these weeks ago, he thinks, observing how the entire team respects his command without query. The guy was just interested in doing the right thing, and that’s pretty cool.

By the time they’re all dried and dressed, the topic is forgotten, much to Peter’s relief. He’s nearly late to first period though, too busy watching Wilson and Barnes smack each other with wet towels and attempting to tame his unruly curls into something resembling neatness. He’s not proud of the amount of gel it takes, but it’s what he’s got to work with. 

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his appearance or anything, but he has a routine that he sticks to. Gel and lots of it.

Once, in third grade, Flash pulled one of Peter’s tightly coiled ringlet between his fingers, pulled on it and said oink. Peter still had some lingering baby fat at the time and so, as cruel as children can be, Peter was donned Piggy Parker for a time afterwards. Sometimes Porky Parker. They’re friends now, but the oinking and snuffling that followed him around the playground still haunts him.

Anyway.

On the way to first period Rogers walks alongside him down the hall. They have English together, but usually make their way separately. It kind of weirded Peter out for a moment because while they’re team-mates, they’re not really friends. 

“Heard you got paired with Stark for an assignment,” the other boy says, his wry smile caught between amused and sympathetic. “That’s shit luck, Parker.” 

“You’re telling me,” Peter agrees, waving to Ned and Betty as they pass. “Dude’s a freakin’ prick.”

Rogers bumps their shoulders together.

“You said it. Want me to have a word with him, get him to back off?”

“Nah,” Peter shakes his head. “I can handle Stark, he’s just some bored rich kid looking for a fight. Besides,” he gives Rogers a once-over, “pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your distance after your last brawl with him.”

“True,” he concedes, clamping Peter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as they stop before their room. “But we’re a team, alright? Just say the word and I’ll encourage some sense into him. Promise to be gentle.”

Peter clamps his hands over his heart with a flair of drama, despite being truly touched. “You’re my hero, Captain Rogers.”

Rogers rolls his eyes and shoves him into the classroom.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s go.”

Inside, he smiles sheepishly at Mrs Perez who glowers at them for their lateness and takes his usual seat between Clint and Shuri. He signs a good morning to the former and smiles at the latter, who is staring down at her desk with disdain.

“What’s wrong?” He nudges her chair with his foot to grab her attention.

“The curriculum.” She raises her head and points to the board miserably. It reads Lord of the Flies.

Oh, great. He could use the nap.

Peter smiles sympathetically, opening his nearly full notebook up to a blank page. “How was your weekend?”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Mmm,” She nods, gesturing airily. “You know, eh. Oh, oh! I heard you spent the weekend getting cosy with Stark,” Shuri follows, pretending to search through their textbook. “Wow, that’s a three-sixty, PP. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Peter hisses, voice lowering when their teacher looks around as roll-call commences. “That’s not -- ”

“Parker!” Perez yells for roll call.

“Present!”

Shuri snickers as Peter’s hand shoots up.

Lucky for him it’s the last he hears of it.

Kinda.

---

His next class is Bio with MJ who, thankfully, says very little through class. She inspects him with bleary eyes when he enters, nursing a coffee in her hands, always earlier than Peter who has to come from the other side of the school.

Peter’s grateful for the reprieve. When she does speak to him, it’s to borrow a pen or to offer him a sip of her coffee. It’s not a lab class today, only note-taking and listening to their teacher drone on about plant anatomy in the same monotone, so he accepts the bitter black coffee without hesitation.

It’s only then that he ventures to initiate conversation.

“So,” he begins precariously, doodling in his notebook, “how was your weekend?”

She shrugs, appearing more awake than earlier. “It was okay. You?”

“It was okay.”

And that was that, he’s relieved to note, companionable silence falling between again as they turn their attention to their teacher again. It’s not until they’re packing up their books at the end of class that MJ speaks to him again.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, dude. Save us a table?”

“You bet. Oh, and by the way, I heard Stark is gonna be your new step-daddy. Congrats.”

Peter groans.

“How do you -- you know what, no,” he says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders and making a x with his arms. “Nope. No more talking about Stark, he is persona non grata. I’m traumatised enough.”

MJ pushes his glasses up after they slipped precariously down his nose during his declaration. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

He bumps their shoulders together on the way out of the room and shakes his head.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

---

Ned texts him during recess; Peter is taking an extended break in the bathroom despite not needing to be there, but he’s definitely not hiding, nope. He’s just chilling in the cubicle.

< heard stark spent the weekend < lol wtf < plz verify < actually i don’t want to know < no wait i do tell me < dude

< hello?

----

Traitors, all of them.

He wonders if he should leave this school and start anew elsewhere.

---

Here’s the thing.

As much as Peter loves his friends, he has limits to how long he can spend with them before needing a time out.

They’re his motley crew of village idiots. Some he’s known since first grade, like Ned and Flash, others only since he came to the school and subsequently, the football team.

This school headhunted him because of his academic merit. With his pursuit of scholastic excellence - and the fact that some of his best friends would be attending the school, he applied for and was awarded a scholarship. It was a no-brainer - he had big dreams and even bigger expectations of himself to achieve them and he wanted May to be proud of him.

Which was why when it was suggested that he try out for JV, having exhibited some physicality during gym class, he decided to give it a try. It would look great to have on his applications, he was assured.

So he did. Somehow his wiry frame and years of gymnastics was considered an asset and he was promptly recruited by Coach Danvers. At first he deeply regretted the additional commitment -- the early hours, the soreness, adapting to the internal culture within the team. But he’s persevered and he’s glad that he did. 

And for the most part, he copes okay. He can juggle football obligations and after-school activities and the odd tutoring jobs here and there and stay sane, right?

Sort of.

Because as grateful as he was for his broad circle of friends, Peter was still, at heart, an introvert. And right now, his social energy is running on fumes. 

It’s because of this - and nothing to do with the relentless questions about Stark - that Peter retreats to the library at lunch that day. 

Nestled away in the dusty, back corner, near the collection of old encyclopaedias that nobody reads, are an assortment of bean bags. It’s away from the main area, quiet and disregarded by most. It used to be a thriving recreational area way before Peter’s time, but there wasn’t any maintenance to it over the years. Now the bags are old, terribly lumpy and are speckled with suspicious stains, the fabric is thinning and aged. Most people purposefully avoid the old rec area, which is why Peter likes this spot best. It’s his secret hiding space.

He prepares to disassociate for the next forty minutes by getting comfortable on his favorite bean bag and popping his earphones in. 

Next, he retrieves his slightly soggy ham-tomato sandwich from his bag and takes a large bite after unwrapping it. The first burst of tomato hits his tongue at the same time as the music begins. 

Ah, to be alone.

Closing his eyes, he allows his body to sink into the bag and for his thoughts to wander freely.

Of course, because his luck is as poor as he is, his seclusion lasts all of three songs before someone else enters into his space. Well it’s not his space, technically, but it should be. 

When Peter creaks an eye open to see who is intruding he’s surprised to see Thor perched on the bean-chair opposite him. They catch each others stare and smile.

Well, alone time is overrated. 

Maybe his luck isn’t down the drain after all - because this is his opportunity to prove he isn’t a total fumbling loser. He doesn’t know which deity he pleased to be alone in a quiet corner of the library with Thor, but someone up there is clearly looking out for him.

He wants to say something, to strike up a conversation that might make Peter seem cool and only casually interested - something that would make him sound both smart and like, available.

But not too available. 

With little success, Peter wracks his brain for the best opening line but frets because he’s ever been cool or collected a day in his life. And great, now he’s just been sitting there smiling for like two whole minutes like an absolute weirdo. Come on, Parker, say something! 

Thor acts well before Peter has the chance to say anything, pointing at him, his mouth moving with words Peter can’t hear. 

Realising a moment too late that his earphones are still playing music from his phone, Peter hurries to tug them out if his ears, smacking himself in the face in the .

“Sorry, I was --” Peter gestures to his ears, hands shaking, cheeks going hot. God, Thor is talking to him. Him! Peter Parker! “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said I like your shirt!” Thor replies, way more loudly than what would normally be socially acceptable for a library, but Peter does not care. Thor likes his shirt.

“This?” He asks, gesturing downwards to his shirt where crumbs are dusted at the collar. “You like Nirvana?”

“I do not know Nirvana,” Thor smiles, “but it looks very cool. Peter, right?”

“Uh yeah,” he nods, face positively flaming because again, he knows Peter’s name. Quickly sweeping the crumbs from his shirt, he extends his hand out to the older boy who shakes his hand. Holy shit. Be cool. “I’m Parker -- I mean, Peter. Yes. Nice to be here. I mean, nice to be speaking. To you.”

Even as Peter’s arm is roughly jostled with Thor’s exuberant hand-shaking embarrassment crawls up his neck, and he wants to disintegrate into the bean bag where no one has to witness his persistent, glaring awkwardness. Palms sweating, Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting on how big Thor’s hands are.

Stop it, he scolds himself, be normal, play it cool.

“Thor, right?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t doodle their initials together in his notebooks. “You were at training last week.”

“Yes, you fell on your face,” Thor nods, gesturing to the yellowed bruising on his jaw, “I saw.”

“Oh, okay, so you saw that! Uhh -- ” Peter waves a hand at his face, laughing nervously. “This? It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”

“You are clumsy,” Thor states, not unkindly.

“Well, no -- I mean, yes --” Peter tries to come up with an explanation, but falls short. “I’m not always a klutz, promise. Just sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us. Well, not myself, but you know, generally speaking. In any case, I’m happy to see you’re okay.” 

Thor unzips his backpack then and from within it retrieves a truly gargantuan protein shake, followed by a sub wrapped in foil so large it could be the same size as Peter’s forearm. Sneaking a look down at the remainder of his own lunch, his pickings look pretty slim in comparison. 

“Sorry,” Thor says. “Just peckish for a snack.”

Peter watches, dazed, as the older boy consumes half his sub in a single bite, washing it down with several mouthfuls of his shake.

A snack.

“You’re fine. Anyway, football isn’t really my forte,” he admits after a moment, drawing his knees up. “I mean, I’m okay at it and I like it, but it’s not really what I’m best at, y’know?”

The blond boy nods, “I’m on the varsity team,” he proclaims, wiping his mouth. “Whatever that means.”

His accent is so thick it takes Peter half a moment to figure out what it was that he said. 

He’s not sure if Thor is being serious or not but the one question Peter has is why is he so fucking cute? 

A silence follows, albeit not an awkward one. It gives Peter the opportunity to inspect the older boy, nearly a man at his height and stature, of course helped along by the generous distribution of facial hair across his lower face. 

“Uh, did you play football back at home?” Peter asks, keen to keep conversation going. “Soccer?”

“Oh yes,” the boy nods. “Soccer, tennis, volleyball. Water polo. Badminton.”

“Wow,” Peter blinks, “that’s a lot of sport. You’re like the whole Olympics here.”

He’s awarded with a lazy grin for that comment. Thor, to his credit, doesn’t appear to be boastful about his physicality, seemingly a result of his passions instead of a product of vanity.

“Close enough, I suppose. What else do you play, besides football?”

“Uhh --”

Oh god. How is he supposed to respond to that when the idea of doing additional sports outside of football is abhorrent? He can’t tell Thor that. Surely he can fake a common interest. Think of something, Parker, think, think.

The first bell rings, saving him from having to provide a potentially humiliating answer, seeing as all how all that could think of was chess, or PC. Both of which are true and accurate, but not exactly something he thinks that would make him appear more attractive or endearing.

Thank god for fifth period.

“To be continued?” Peter asks as he picks up his backpack, just a little hopeful.

There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs, moment filled with odd squeaks of polystyrene as they attempt to stand.

Thor nods and to Peter’s surprise, doesn’t immediately rush to get away from him. There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs with, odd squeaks of polystyrene as they stand. Instead, he accompanies Peter all the way out of the library, walking alongside him into the main hallway where a flurry of students are intersecting to get to their next class, walking alongside him.

Heads turn to watch them as they depart the library and enter the halls. For a moment, as kids part like the red sea to make way for them - for Thor - Peter wonders if this is what it’s like to be famous. Or to be on the arm of someone famous. It certainly feels like it, because even though the revere isn’t for Peter specifically, it seems like the weight of everyone’s awe is on them.

He doesn’t like the attention. But he likes Thor.

To his delight, the older boy follows him to his locker. Embarrassingly, it sticks when Peter tries to open it, as it usually does. He struggles with it for long, humiliating moments before Thor opens it with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says, blush creeping back up his neck. “You’re like, crazy strong, dude.”

Thor flexes and inspects his own bicep, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Perhaps,” he concedes, smiling roguishly. “Back at home I used to lift my brother for weight training.”

“You what?”

“A story for another time,” Thor shakes his head, shuffling closer to be heard over the traffic of students. “Anyway, I should be going. But there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if I may take a moment --”

Peter freezes. Oh my god, this is it, he thinks. 

It’s happening.

“-- seeing as you and I have similar interests and we seem compatible, it would please me greatly if you would agree to --”

Heart racing, Peter turns, a fervent yes already on his lips.

It dies when there is a loud call of his name in the hall.

“-- Hey, Parker!”

Whatever Thor was going to say wilts at the interruption, seemingly forgotten as he waves at the intruder. Peter turns to see who called out for him and instantly wishes he didn’t.

Heart dropping to his stomach, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. 

This is his luck.

Never has he wanted to melt into the floor and die like he does right now as Stark approaches the pair in quick strides.

Hands shoved into his jean pockets, Stark’s wide eyes dart between them inquisitively, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face, disappearing just as quick.

“Well, pardon me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony places a hand on his heart and leans on the locker next to Peters. “Thor, barely a pleasure as always.”

“Stark,” Thor nods.

Tony simpers, smile saccharine sweet and gestures to an uneasy Peter.

“I am just so sorry to intrude, but would you mind if I spoke to my husband here? He’s such a slippery one, aren’t you, sweetums?”

Thor looks between them, head going to and fro like a pendulum.

“He’s not my husband,” Peter rushes to assure, acutely pincered between Thor’s confusion and Tony’s mischief. “I mean he is, but it’s for an assignment. We’re not really -- it’s not real. I don’t like him.”

Tony exhales heavily, looking at Thor with dismay. “That’s not what he said in our wedding vows.”

Peter wants to punch him in the throat.

“I understand,” Thor smiles, patting each of them on the shoulder. He dips his chin and catches Peter’s eye. “To be continued?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter nods enthusiastically, probably too enthusiastically, he thinks, as his aim is to pretend to be cool and disinterested, but he doesn’t even care because maybe not all is lost after all. “To be continued. See you.”

All of the pomp bleeds away from Tony as Thor walks away, his posture turning into a slump against the locker.

The smile drops from Peter’s face. He sends Tony a heated glare as he retrieves from his books, shoving them into his bag.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, slamming his locker shut. “You have the worst timing, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the other boy shrugs. “What can I say, I’m delightful.”

“You’re deplorable.”

Tony gasps in mock offence. “Deplorable? Good lord, Parker, is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“If the shoe fits,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I have to go to class. Say what you want or move out of the way.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon, what were you and He-Man grunting about, hmm? Grr, me big, you tiny?”

“Unless you have a point,” Peter asks, pointing to the main hall, “I’m leaving.”

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, however the glib expression doesn’t quite leave his face. But at that moment Peter doesn’t have it within him to care, he’s not here to entertain him and sooner they get this over with, the better.

“Alright, alright, buzzkill. Come outside, I have to talk to you about the assignment.”

Peter looks at him, perturbed. 

“I need a smoke,” he explains, tutting at Peter dispiritedly. “Also, don’t lie, I know it’s your free period.”

He doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, heading straight for the double doors that lead to the courtyard at a sedate enough pace for Peter to follow. Nonetheless he jogs a few paces to catch up after debating whether or not it was a good idea to follow or if he should hide in the boys bathroom.

Again.

It’s fairly chilly out, the wind whipping through his clothes. He wishes he had a scarf or gloves or something, opting to shove his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and hooking the hood over his head.

“How do you know it’s my free period?” he queries loud enough to be heard over the wind. 

“Because,” Tony turns to walk backwards, the breeze whistling around them, “it’s also my free period and you always stink up the library so I can’t go there,” he rounds the corner to lead Peter to the shaded area behind the auditorium where a few students are lingering, most of them smoking. 

“And you take the best seat. Personally, I think it’s selfish. I can’t possibly sit there after your ass has warmed it.”

Willing himself to not rise to Tony’s level of pettiness, he crosses his arms over his chest as they come to a stop. The wind is at full force now that the surrounding buildings aren’t taking the brunt of it and it is cold as all hell, although Tony’s in a black t-shirt and doesn’t look affected at all, probably because he’s cold-blooded or warmed by hellfire.

Tony cups his hands over his lighter to protect the flame from the breeze, struggling briefly to light his cigarette. Once the end is properly alight, Tony takes a drag while staring at him. 

His hand comes to rest at his thigh, smoke rising idly from the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales the smoke in Peters direction.

“Wow. You’re disgusting,” he waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the smell. “Don’t you know second-hand smoke can kill?”

"Yes. Do you want a drag to speed up the process?”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says as Tony seems to find himself funny, offering up the cigarette in jest. Peter has half a mind to snatch it out of his hands and stomp on it. “I know that’s hard for you.”

“I’m joking, okay. I thought the wind would redirect the smoke. My bad.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, the assignment? Still waiting for whatever was so urgent."

Tony takes another drag, flicking ash to the ground before answering.

“I booked an appointment with a realtor for tomorrow after school.”

That has Peter’s curiosity piqued. “Really? Where?”

“LIC. One of the agents has agreed to be a reference so our domestic nightmare can be officially documented. Yay, go team.”

“Yay,” Peter deadpans. “What time?”

“Appointment’s at four-thirty,” Tony retrieves his phone from his pocket and hands it to Peter. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details.”

Peter accepts it with a grimace. It’s warm from Tony’s body heat. Ugh.

“And now you can say: ‘thank you for being proactive, Tony, you’re so much better than me, Tony’.”

“Thank you for being proactive, Anthony, even if you’re a self-aggrandizing jerk,” Peter mutters, voice getting progressively more sarcastic. 

A wide smile blooms on Tony’s face, clearly pleased with himself. 

“You’re welcome, Parker.”

He is going to let that one go, Peter decides, feeling magnanimous on spite of the circumstances. He’d never admit it, but he’s kinda surprised by Tony’s apparent initiative, and even genuinely a little grateful that the other boy has arranged this so quickly. Or even that he thought to arrange it at all - field research was one of the highest scoring components on the rubric for this assignment.

Eyes flicking up for a moment, he assesses the other boy. Maybe he’s not as much of a slacker as Peter thought he was.

Tony, slumped against the brick wall, rubs his stomach and burps quietly. 

Or maybe he is.

Nevertheless, Peter types in his details and saves his contact in Tony’s phone as Your Better Half. 

Peter isn’t too much to look at, he knows, but he’s not the weak link here.

Tony accepts the phone back and wipes the touch screen on his shirt before pocketing it. 

“Alright then, meet me after school tomorrow in the parking lot. Don’t be late,” he flicks his cigarette to the ground and steps on it to put it out. Tony bends at the waist then to pick up the stub, clutching it in his fist for later disposal instead of leaving it as litter.

That surprises Peter a little, it’s more thoughtful, conscious a gesture than he would have expected to come from Stark. Not that he’s ever personally seen such behaviour from him, but it wouldn’t be a stretch with his devil-may-care attitude. Would it?

He’s about to make mention of heading back inside when Stark takes two purposeful steps towards Peter, bridging the gap between them. 

Peter freezes on the spot, breath caught in his chest as Tony brings them nose-to-nose.

He flicks his eyes down at Tony’s lips when his solemn expression morphs into an impish smile.

“Dude, what -- ?”

While Peter is distracted, Tony’s hands dart out to grip the strings of Peter’s hoodie, tugging them until the hood shrinks around his face.

“Do me a solid and try to wear something that doesn’t make you look like you’re a step away from lining up at a soup kitchen, okay? Y’know, something nice.”

Peter smacks his hands away furiously, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Tony backs away, snickering.

“You really get off on being a prized piece of shit, don’t you?” he mutters, somewhat self conscious as he tries to correct the hood. “Poor jokes, that’s real nice. Sorry not all of us were born wearing Balenciaga.”

He continues to struggle with it as they move away and head back towards the main building, pushing it off his head altogether. 

“Calm down, Charlie Brown, it’s not that deep,” Tony says drily, although his flippant demeanour softens significantly. “I have no doubt that you’d still manage to look like a hobo even if you were loaded, okay. You just have that grubby vibe.” Tony claps his hands together. “So, tomorrow. Meet me in the parking lot. Yes?”

Inside, away from the wind, Peter is still helpless to quell the hurricane that is Tony Stark. He gives him a tired thumbs up.

With that Tony sets off in the opposite direction, leaving Peter to wonder what the hell just happened, and what his life has become these last few days. 

“What a jackass,” he says to himself.

Now alone, he rubs his hands up and down his face, fruitlessly attempting to scrub away the memory of Tony close to him, eyes warm with mirth, the heat of his body up close and the smell of nicotine on his breath as he quite literally tugged Peter’s strings. It takes longer than he likes to will the image away and to calm the furious beat of his heart.

Furious; a feeling Peter is becoming progressively more familiar - and uncomfortable with.

Ben used to say that being angry at someone was allowing them to take up space in your head, rent free. He was right, because it never served Peter well to house animosity when acceptance was kinder to his soul and psyche, and to others -- but he can’t help it with this guy. Tony Stark is like an ear worm of the brain. He has this completely obnoxious way of making himself front and centre despite Peter’s best efforts to cast him to the sidelines.

While he’s willing himself to move on his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a new message.

> ur not my better half, loser > why r u like this > nvm i already know lol. > remember, don’t be late 2morrow

Peter, just a little satisfied with himself for getting under Tony’s skin, saves his contact as Tiny Stank and types back quickly, eager to get back to his seat in the library - assuming Stark hasn’t already occupied it - and make the best of his remaining free period.

<  whatever helps u sleep at night < also, plz lose my number after this is over

> way ahead of u, princess > say hi to aunt may for me

Ugh, Peter cringes, pocketing his phone without replying.

That guy is the worst.

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