#does this post even say anything or am i just rephrasing the same idea ten times? who cares. goodbye.

[tyrannuspitch]

i don't know why i'm thinking about crimson peak again, but i am, so here you go. some semi-coherent musings:

i've seen a lot of people react negatively to thomas and edith's confrontation in the climax (you tried to kill me / i did / you said you loved me / i do) because they see it as an attempt to "redeem" thomas, and they don't think it succeeds at that. but honestly i've never interpreted it that way?

what i've always taken away from it is more like... thomas just doesn't see the love and the violence as inherently contradictory. like, i'm not saying he currently wants to kill her, but he doesn't seem to see the gravity of the fact that he did. he was raised on violence. all his major interactions with the world have involved someone hurting him (parents; almost certainly boarding school), or him hurting someone else (wives). the only loving relationship he ever had before edith was with lucille, and that's deeply unhealthy on both sides... to the point that when he has this exchange, he's minutes away from being murdered by lucille.

lucille has her own speech about violence and love which frames the two as fundamentally intertwined, and her violence as coming from love, which is both tragic and horrifying in its own way. but i feel like thomas' thing isn't even... that. it's just like... stark coexistence. as an onlooker you naturally want to reconcile these two parts of him somehow, to fold the love into the violence or the violence into the love, but you can't. they're just both true at once. i can't quite put into words why, but i want to call it eerie.

(and i think this is part of the point of thomas disparaging edith's writing, too: he calls it sentimental and simplistic because it's not how he works. he's not just a villain, and he's not just a tragedy. he's both, and he remains both throughout the story. there isn't any comfortable conclusion to him. maybe he wasn't unsaveable, but he also wasn't saved.)

so. as i see it, it's not "he tried to kill her, but he loves her." it's: "he tried to kill her, and he loves her."

like, yes, of course, you're right, thomas' love of edith doesn't make the violence less real. but. it is also true that thomas' violence towards edith doesn't make the love less real. does that unsettle you? good.

[transsexualhamlet]

asmr i psychoanalyze hide for fun

a lot of these are just stupid headcanons but a lot are also how i feel that’s just the way he is so

I know no one will read this it’s so very long but hello he’s my comfort character

(the words are under the cut bc THERE ARE SO MANY WORDS)

thoughts: It’s funny because most of the characters that I really love are just fucking idiots. So stupid. No thoughts head empty. And like at first glance you’d think the same with Hide, he’s got the look of a real dumbass, but he’s actually a really smart person? He just kind of, hides it. He did say he was like allergic to books once (it’s the adhd, king) but that doesn’t change the fact that he emotionally is actually a very intelligent person. It’s something he’s humble about because I don’t believe he really identifies with the intellectual crowd or sees himself as particularly above average, he just finds it easy to understand things. And he doesn’t ever use it for his own advantage even when it would be totally fine to do so, he pretty much always uses it to help other people and I think he believes if he used his strengths to help himself it would be, like, selfish. Which is a problem of his.

gemder n brand of gay: A lot of people in yonder Fandom like to see kaneki as bi and hide as gay but nah fam you’re off. Honestly I do not care about his Date With Rize in the slightest, that man is a homosexual. Hide is the bi one. (it’s not like this is a requirement or anything lmao i am just Saying also i’m bi and i’m projecting) I can also say with confidence that date with Rize was the only date Kaneki’s ever been on and he was definitely lying to himself. (i just, don’t know how you could look at Haise specifically and for one second think he has ever seen a boob) Hide’s the one who’s probably dated people before and he actually knows what’s attractive, he probably just doesn’t discuss that a lot with Kaneki since the bitch is Closeted and hide knows this. It’s funny because Hide canonically has two dads. Like I think that kind of explains him tbh. Bitch has good parents??? He’s the only one but we love him for it. U know Kaneki spent more of his life at Hide’s house than his own.

And as to gender, like obviously hide’s a guy, but i think he’s one of the few cisgenders who could like... tell you why. He’s well versed in those kinds of issues and has just thought about it a lot I guess? He’s comfortable in his skin and with a conventionally masculine appearance but he could tell you what Boy TM means other than yo macho man dude bro guy

personality type- ENFP-T: I took the fucking test for him and it was like... so easy. Took me ten minutes. 

basically what this means is it just calls him out as a fucken loud ass sunshine boy who has very many emotion and cares way too much about his friend

love how this part of the description describes kaneki and hide perfectly

biggest strength: he’s so good at helping people?? Like I can honestly say if some random person started rambling about their relationship issues to him I’d give him 10 minutes before he had a perfect solution, he had the person crying and being comforted in just the right way. He’s the perfect medium of confident and caring and he’s not just a fucking ray of sunshine on accident, he’s like, mob psycho 100 style actively working to be nice and compassionate. He’s very aware of how his actions affect people and he always knows just the right thing to say, what to do, when to just let things go or when to say them. And Hide will forgive, literally anything, even if someone does something really shitty to him he’ll realize it’s the product of like, unresolved mental issues or something and seek to fix it instead of cutting the person off. It’s... really good for everyone around him. But well,,, not great for him, see below.

biggest weakness: bitch does nOT leave room for himself. Although he is generally a confident person and isn’t very insecure, he knows he’s giving too much of himself and simply ‘pretend i do not see it but in reality i do’. He’s never put himself first and feels more worthy when he makes someone else happy, and it’s really not that visible but it can take a pretty big toll on him. He’ll feel anger and frustration for his problems but eventually he will end up blaming himself for anything that goes wrong and will just resolve to Try Harder. (which, mood) He does problem solve well and he tries to come up with the best solutions to issues but the fact is he just does not prioritize his own happiness within those solutions. He gives too much and it’s fucking killing him.

what he likes most about himself: Although he does have issues obviously, I don’t see Hide as someone who has particularly low esteem of himself. I think he pretty much thinks he has himself figured out and therefore other people’s problems come first. He generally does, think fondly of himself, because most of the time he can fix people’s problems so he’s yknow, a good person. I think he likes his ability to enjoy life and live in the moment, and he likes his connections and friendships with other people. He values emotional connection and he likes that he can easily create and enjoy good vibes. He loves being the one who everyone just... goes to for a good time.

favorite things: I think I heard somewhere that he enjoys dumb american bands without really understanding what they’re saying which seems very on brand for him, but I’m gonna perscribe him some other stuff too. Obviously he likes bright colors and comic books, and places where he can have fun with other people. He generally likes college, even though it’s like, school, and unlike kaneki he actually had a good childhood and he enjoys the places he spent time and formed good memories, he has Nostalgia TM (see unbelievable by owl city hmmm he vibes to that he was born in 1996 or something right i can’t google things) he also just really likes to just, fix other people’s problems but we’ve covered that. 

what he’s doing right and what he’s doing wrong: Hide is doing his best. He’s no less flawed than any of the other characters in tokyo ghoul, it’s just that his strategies tend to involve 100% less murder. Ok no, let me rephrase that, Hide is flawed, but i meant like emotionally, he’s not a war criminal like everyone else. He may seem at first glance like, just, perfect? Sorry for being a simp lmao but I feel like from the outside he’s just got it all together right? He knows what he’s doing and he’s super nice and helpful and smart and humble and just doesn’t have any visible flaws? He... tends to hide any evidence that he would ever be struggling. And that’s not very sexy of him. He feels it would be a burden on others to show pain or ever say he can’t take something on (if someone asked him to do something he’d do it even if he was already mentally at capacity etc) and that’s something he needs to work on. The good thing is that if they got to a point where after Kaneki’s Character Development they got to just... like, be happy and not be separated and everything Kaneki would be good for him because he compliments that. Hide helps him because he needs a lot of like, mental counseling lmao but now that Kaneki’s gone through a lot of that his eyes have been opened more to the fact that Hide hides his problems from Kaneki so if they could just bE HAPPY this is an issue that could be resolved

insecurities: I think Hide kind of believes he’s not allowed to be sad. Cause it’s like, not his job. He’s the source of happiness for everyone else, supposed to have everything together so he can fix everyone else’s problems. he’s not allowed to be in pain or feel bad for himself even though he knows “Boys Can Cry” it’s like, yes boys can cry, not me tho haha lmao it’s not about his masculinity it’s just he’s like “yeah but kaneki’s had it worse” so like if he finds himself in a bad place, he feels inadequate and like... fundametally broken. and it’s. Like. I felt that but also like king that’s not how it works

goal in life: I think he wouldn’t really be able to answer that question. What the truth would be is that he probably wants to do something grand and important that helps a lot of people and kind of changes the world. But he might not really think of it that way, since he’s usually focused more on smaller more isolated issues and he has no idea what he wants to do as a career. He admires activists and people who put themselves at risk but it probably makes him feel inferior that someone else is Doing Something About This Big Problem and he’s just sitting there riding around on his bisexual bike and being in college. (I’d like to say he’s probably changed majors at least a few times,,, that man was like “oh yeah lmao i’m gonna be a comic book artist” but someone said something about how he’s a good therapist and he’s like “brb kinshift i am now a psychology major” lmao.) (hello i am projecting but i’m right) He sees a tumblr post about some issue somewhere and he hyperfixates on it for days until he sees another post about something worse it’s an issue. But I think what he ended up doing was what he wanted to, even if he never recieved any recognition for it the internal sense that he was doing something Right TM in the eyes of history would probably make him cry

how he was raised: I can’t really say much to this because there’s barely any canon on this and the canon that does exist I have completely ignored other than the fact that he has two dads. Bro tbh? He didn’t need any tragic emo backstory I think he had a great childhood. Honestly he’s probably a rich kid. Not super rich but he’s not struggling man. Not gonna lie to you I think the only reason he went to Kamii was because he wanted to be at the same college as Kaneki who probably got a scholarship. Hide, didn’t. (it’s not like he’s not intelligent but I don’t really think that his grades are his biggest priority, the only time he ever pays attention in class is to give kaneki the answers when he’s gone) 

What irks me about the random lore drop in the last chapter about him having a CCG dad that died or whatever- it kind of ruins the whole point for me. Personally I choose to believe he had nothing whatsoever to do with ghouls or the ccg before all that happened to Kaneki. He probably had correct opinions on them, but only like, in theory, it’s like straight people that are like “yeah ofc gay ppl valid” but they’ve never really had any personal experience with any. So when he gets involved in that- the fact is that the only reason he was... was bc of kaneki. It was never more complicated than that to me. YKNOW, SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST, NICE, OK? 

And I think for me that the fact that he could actively choose to be nice and be aware of all these problems when he’s practically got every advantage in life is a lot more important. He didn’t have to be poor or have a dead parent or have a shitty childhood for him to be really genuinely good. I don’t think he’s ever been bullied or anything, but he can still be aware that it sucks to be bullied. I think he was just... raised right. I think his dads are probably pretty fucking baller for him to be such a bro. They taught him the right shit.

General philosophy: Hide is one of the only people in the series for whom the dynamics of right and wrong are not hard to understand. He’s never been required to pick up a weapon or actually truly fight in the CCG, he’s never been really mean to anyone. Of course I can say he’s probably decked a few ppl that made fun of Kaneki in middle school, but haven’t we all. The thing is that though he’s never suffered at the hands of others, everything that’s hurt him he’s gone in fully consenting to it- he can still understand and forgive what everyone else has done. Like bro he’s the literal only one around who’s not like a literal war criminal, but he’s not going to think he’s better because of it, because he understands that if he had been in their circumstances he couldn’t say how he would have turned out. 

That’s why I think it’s so important that he never really had a bad childhood- he’s not better than them for turning out without any blood on his hands, because he was never required to. And he knows that and he goes through every day with all these people who have and is conscious of it. He can’t ever say he’s incapable of hurting other people, because he would have said that about Kaneki before all of it happened. So he’s quite politically correct compared to Kaneki and the others but he doesn’t see things that way.

relationship bullshit: i mean bro i know this is a serious post about like psychological and emotional things but i felt the need to discuss whY does everyone write hide as a bottom I mean like sure he’d bottom if his partner was a top but this is simply not the case with kaneki look at him. Hide. Service top. I rest my case. The man’s the biggest switch ever but when he’s a top he’s a nice top. I think Kaneki needs that to be perfectly honest. He really likes to take care of people. Also kind of off topic but his love language is quality time he just wants to play video games wit da homies and he might fall in love a bit

I find it genuinely funny how much i cannot get away from the tentacle porn on the god forsaken archive of our own just looking at the tags i already know it’s so out of character haitoheoihesdsdsa and don’t get me started on the vore

how kaneki sees him vs how he actually is: One of the biggest problems in kaneki and hide��s relationship is how in the beginning, Kaneki didn’t really understand at all that Hide could be hiding anything from him. Kaneki’s not good at picking up clues like that in general, but the fact that he was hiding so much himself didn’t help at all. Hide gives off the vibe of someone who has no inhibitions and shows every side of himself without hesitation, and Kaneki really does idolize that. He didn’t realize that Hide could possibly be suffering or imperfect compared to his vision. He sees Hide as practically an angel, and that’s exactly how Hide wants Kaneki to see him, because he doesn’t want to burden Kaneki with his own problems since he believes they’re not as important and they would make Kaneki sad. Kaneki knew Hide wasn’t as oblivious as he seemed, but he didn’t really understand what that meant until too late. The good thing about Kaneki’s character development though is that it then helps Kaneki understand that Hide was suffering because of him and he didn’t want Hide to hide it anymore (lmao). If they’d only executed that point well that could have been really good but well that’s what fanfic is for

how he sees kaneki vs how kaneki actually is: This one’s a lot more difficult, because well. Hide’s very good at knowing exactly how people are in their hearts, compared to Kaneki. But there are definitely some things that he’s not super up on. He wasn’t around for a lot of Kaneki’s development, so most of the time I think he still believes Kaneki doesn’t want to see his pain, which is, simply incorrect, Kaneki would obviously not be happy to hear it but it would tear him up inside to realize he’s been oblivious to it the whole time. He’s grown a lot more mature since he spent most of his time with Hide, and I really think Hide could benefit from being able to open up to Kaneki the way he is now. And well. I think his biggest misconception has to be that Kaneki enjoyed women lmao

the most him thing i’ve ever done: listening to a happy upbeat song and visibly bopping while also uncontrollably sobbing

miscellaneous headcanons: 

-he’s a morning person lmao. Motherfucker gets up at 6 AM and Kaneki is like PL EA SE NO

-what he finds attractive is like. twinks and girls with hair in colors that don’t exist and ppl who don’t know what gender is

-He likes Imagine Dragons lmao you can see by the next point

-his coping mechanisms are mostly music and other people tbh he’s like “oh i am having emotions? disgusting” *goes to a party*

-he plays dnd and he mains a warlock i don’t make the rules

-he doesn’t look like someone who would do that shit but he probably knows how to use tarot cards

-idk how but that motherfucker is so neurodivergent i can smell the hyperempathy on him look at that man he has so much adhd

-he’s fully aware that his fashion sense is terrible and continues to wear more and more ridiculous clothes to piss kaneki off

-this man has tungle dot fuck. Look at him. His url is probably something along the lines of my ao3 username lmao

-he can see the forbidden shrimp colors smh

-this bitch likes mob psycho 100 and the promised neverland, kaneki keeps telling him to watch death note and he’s just like n   o hhsdfhhfdshdfshdfs he probably kins tpn emma

-he doesn’t know how to drive lmao he bikes everywhere and he lives in tokyo

-i am once again thinking about how he was in a play with kaneki and kaneki was the main character and he was the spicy side character that’s not a headcanon just. that

songs that are, him: 

-Stand By You (Rachel Platten)

-Luck (American Authors)

-Love (Imagine Dragons)

-If I Lose Myself (One Republic)

-Stardust (New Politics)

-Secrets (also one republic)

-Flaws (Bastille)

-100 Bad Days (AJR)

-I Lived (another one republic lmao)

-Battle Scars (Paradise Fears)

-Rise Up (Imagine Dragons)

yeah he definitely listens to this shit lmao

[orangeoctopi7]

Do You Even Lift?

Hope you’re all staying healthy and physically isolating yourselves. Unfortunately, I can’t work from home so I’m still working most nights for the foreseeable future. Still, I know everybody’s stuck at home and looking for something to do, so I’m gonna try and post all the WIPs I’ve been sitting on for the past few months.

Here’s the latest chapter of the Spider Stan AU

* * *

Stan had no idea how to broach the subject of what he’d seen last night with Ford, so he asked a not-so-subtle question the next morning.

“So, uh, you had any weird dreams last night?”

Ford looked at him blankly. “No, why?”

“Uh…” Stan stammered. How was he supposed to answer that question? Remember my spider-sense that you hate so much? It went off again last night, so I snuck into your room and watched you sleep for like half and hour until I saw that weird triangle you have all over the house float out of your head.

“I, uh, thought I heard you talking in your sleep last night?”

“Really? What’d I say?”

“Pch… I dunno! You were all the way downstairs, I couldn’t understand what you were saying! Just heard some muttering through the floorboards with my, y’know, super hearin’.” Stan crossed his arms and looked away.

Ford shrugged. “No, it was a pretty normal night for me.”

“Good. That’s good.” 

Their awkward breakfast conversation was cut short by the ringing of the phone. Ford scrambled out of his chair and down the hall to where the main-floor phone was kept. Stan could easily overhear Ford’s end of the conversation from the kitchen.

“Hello, this is Stanford Pines… Ah, hello Fiddleford.” Stan couldn’t help but notice his brother sounded annoyed. “How is Emma-May? ...Mhmm… I--I’m glad to hear she’s ok. Oh, Stan and I are, surprisingly, doing very well. There have still been a few arguments but really, I think we’re getting along better than-- better than in a very long time… Look Fiddleford, I know… sigh… I know you want to spend more time with your family. You could stay over the weekend, if you want. ...Yes. I’m sure. Take your time. It--it’ll be good to have you back. ...Ok. See you Sunday night.”

Ford re-entered the kitchen with a conflicted expression on his face. “McGucket will be back on Sunday.”

“Oh. Good?” 

“Why did that sound like a question?”

“Well, ya don’t seem too excited for him to come back.”

“I-- of course I’m happy he’s coming back, he’s my friend!” Ford replied stiffly. That conflicted expression returned to his face.

“Are you mad ‘cuz he lied about his wife bein’ sick?”

“I-- you-- you don’t know that!” Ford spluttered. “But… but even if I did learn that--that your assumption was somehow correct, that doesn’t mean-- it shouldn’t be-- that’s no reason--maybe… maybe he was right.”

“Wha?”

“It--it’s been nice, just spending time together again. Would… would you agree?”

Stan swore he felt his heart leap into his throat. Don’t get your hopes up, don’t look desperate! “Y-yeah.” he choked out with a noncommittal shrug.

“Maybe Fiddleford giving the two of us some space is exactly what we needed right now. We got along better yesterday than we ever did the preceding week. The preceding twelve years, really.”

Stan grinned. “See? Lyin’ can be for the greater good sometimes.”

Ford frowned. “I still believe honesty is the best policy…” he added under his breath, “except for when it’s not.”

Stan burst out laughing. Ford looked away sheepishly.

“What, you forget I have super-hearing already? We were literally just talking about it!”

* * *

After cleaning up the kitchen, the brothers returned to the storage room where Ford kept most of his spare inventions.

“Well, you’ve already tested out the anomaly filtration goggles, the web-shooters, and the--”

“Super hero costume.” Stan finished with a roll of his eyes.

“--high durability textiles.” Ford corrected with an annoyed glare. “Do you see anything else in here you’d like to try out?

“How am I supposed to answer that? I don’t even know what any of this junk does!”

“Well, is there anything you always wanted, when you were out on the streets?”

“Money.”

Ford pinched the bridge of his nose but couldn’t quite suppress the smile sneaking onto his lips. He’d walked right into that one. “Let me rephrase. Is there any kind of equipment or tool or skill that would have been helpful to you when you were saving people?”

“Huh…” Stan thought about it for a minute. One thing in particular came to mind. “Something to carry stuff with that’d still keep my hands free.”

Ford gave him a withering glare. “Some place to hold stolen goods?”

“Not all the time!” Stan defended. “Like what if when I ran into you and Mc-What’s-his-name there had been more guards and we had to make a run for it up the wall. I couldn’t carry you two and hold onto the gun I’d swiped at the same time, and I couldn’t just leave it there for some mook to pick up and start shooting at us.”

Ford looked at his brother in confusion. “Your parka has pockets, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, big, old pockets that things can fall out of very easily when you’re climbing directly up a wall. I tried sewing zippers on them once, but zippers are tricky. I almost ruined this coat, and the left pocket still won’t lay right. I tried usin’ a backpack a while ago, but it got stolen, and it was throwin’ me off balance when I climbed anyway.”

“Hmm… Ok. So it would have to be compact enough that it wouldn’t swing about while you climb.” Ford pulled out his Journal and began to sketch something. 

“And y’know what? That reminds me of something else that’d be nice to have. Some sorta handle for people to hold onto or like, I dunno, a baby sling or something. ‘Cuz I’ve had to carry a lot of people to safety, and it’s way harder to climb a shear wall when you’re also tryin’ to carry even a little kid, let alone a grown man! This one time I saved a lady from a mugging by climbing up an office tower, and she nearly strangled me, she wrapped her arms around my neck so tight.”

“I think I’ve got an idea!” Ford flipped around his book to show Stan his drawing. “A belt, with different compartments to hold different supplies in. We could even incorporate a holster for any wayward guns. And of course, people could hold onto it--”

“I don’t want people pullin’ my pants down, genius.”

“Oh, right, of course. Then perhaps more of a harness? Hmm… yes, that could allow for more compartments.”

Stan looked at the sketch. “A utility belt? I’m not freakin’ Captain Nightshade!”

“A tool belt is a piece of equipment that people have been using since our ancestors first started fashinoing clothing out of animal skins.”

“That’s not what I’m complainin’ about. I told you, I’m not playin’ at bein’ a hero, Ford!”

“I never said you had to!”

“Then why’ve you got a logo drawn on it?”

Ford looked down at the little spider silhouette he had drawn on the belt buckle. “It’s just artistic license.” He folded his arms, as though that settled it. “Anyway, I had an idea for another test we can run. Grab the web-shooters.”

“Uh, I dunno if I’m ready for more trapeze stunts.” Stan scratched the back of his neck apprehensively.

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be on the ground this time. I want to see how much weight this stuff can take.”

* * *

Ford led Stan out into the woods, not far from the house, where a large pile of squashed scrap metal lay rusting under piles of discarded pine needles. It looked like something that would come out of a trash compactor in a big junk yard, not something you would find in the middle of the forest.

“What is this?”

“This is what’s left of my old car. You remember Steve from yesterday?

“Ah.” That explained it.

Ford powered up the leaf blower he’d packed out and blew away the pine needles, revealing his squashed car. “Now, the idea is to attach a line to the frame of the car, loop over one of the thicker branches up there as a pulley, and see if you can pull the car up off the ground. It’ll test the limits of both your strength, and the strength of the web material.”

He picked up one of the web-shooters and tried to aim it up and over the thick branch he’d been thinking of. The line just sailed up over the branch and stuck to another tree a few feet away.

“Lemme see that, Sixer.” Stan took the web-shooter from his brother and strapped it around his wrist before climbing up the tree to the branch in question. He fired a line down on the car and then jumped back down to the ground, letting more webbing out slowly to lower himself.

“Oh. Thank you, Stan. I’ll just stand over here where there’s no danger of being crushed.” Ford retreated a couple of yards.

Once Stan had good footing, he grunted and started pulling at the line like it was a rope. It was hard, at first. The web line was thin and hard to get a grasp on, despite how sticky it was. But once Stan got a good grip and found a comfortable way to pull, he felt the car begin to give. With another strong tug, it lifted a few inches off the ground. Stan grinned as he heard his brother start laughing triumphantly.

“Yes! Yes, it’s holding! It’s perfect! How much of a strain is this on you?”

“Heh, just like liftin’ weights back in high school!”

“Wonderful!” Ford began scribbling in his Journal again. “Oh, weights! We need more weight.”

Stan released the line and the car crashed back to the ground. “You tellin’ me you nerds have a weight set hidden in that cabin?”

Ford laughed again. “No, but one Liter of water weighs about a kilogram. We can just fill up water jugs and put them in the car.”

“Kilo-what?”

“No, Stan, kilowatts measure electrical current!” Ford joked with a cheesy grin.

Stan punched his brother playfully in the arm. Ford winced and rubbed the spot, but he smiled back nonetheless. It was like they were teenagers again, working together on whatever experiments they could come up with. 

They ran back and forth between the crushed car and the garden hose, filling up jug after jug with water. Each time they added another jug, Stan lifted it again. When they got to ten jugs, no more would fit inside the flattened vehicle without them falling out, but Stan could still lift it without much trouble. Ford got the bright idea to use the web fluid to stick more jugs to the car. They finally had to stop at 105kg, not because Stan could no longer lift it, or because the line had broken, but because they were out of water containers.

“Pfew!” Stan wiped his brow as he finished the last lift. “How much did that last load weigh in normal weight?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Pounds can hardly be considered normal weight when the United States is the only country that still uses them widely.”

“Fine, how much did I lift in abnormal weight?”

“Over 230 pounds of water, plus the weight of the car… I’d estimate around 1300 pounds! That’s over 300 pounds more than the current world record!”

“Haha! Yes! Eat it, world record guys! Pines! Pines! Pines!”

Ford chuckled and joined in the chant as they walked back home.

* * *

Things were going great. He and Stanford were finally getting along like brothers again! Which was why Stan was terrified to ask Ford about the triangle thing. Stan had a strong suspicion he wasn’t going to like the answer, and what if it led to yet another fight? Just because things were going better between the two of them now didn’t mean the situation wasn’t still delicate.

But he couldn’t just ignore it! His spider-sense had never steered him wrong before, and had in fact saved his life more times than he could count. If it was telling him something bad was happening to Ford, then he had to get to the bottom of it!

He was climbing the stairs up to the attic to go to bed that Friday when he finally worked up the courage to ask his brother a simple question.

“Hey Ford, could… could you tell me more about this thing?” He pointed down at the rug on the landing that had caught his attention his first night in the cabin.

Ford certainly looked caught off-guard by the question. “I thought you said it was creepy.” he finally replied icily.

“Well, yeah, but, you know me. I like creepy stuff.”

To Stan’s relief, this seemed to be the right answer, because now Ford was smiling like a proud mother hen and motioning Stan back down the stairs and into the library. 

“This mysterious figure can be found throughout history! It seems to be the inspiration behind many great civilizations and secret societies.” Ford narrated as he pulled out a large file filled with depictions of the one-eyed triangle. “More specifically, it inspires one brilliant mind a generation to lead their civilization, their society, into a new era of enlightenment!”

“Ok, but what does it want?”

“What?” Ford responded in confusion. “I--I just told you, it wants to enlighten civilizations.”

“Yeah, sure, but what does the triangle guy get out of it? Does he wanna be worshiped? Does he get a cut of the profits?”

Ford rolled his eyes. “Not everything is about money, Stanley!”

“I know, I know, I was just jokin’ about the profits thing.” But he wasn’t joking about the worship thing. “But no one does anything for free! What’s this thing’s angle?” 

Stanford just stared at his brother in disbelief. “You really have no concept of a selfless act, do you?”

“If this thing was selfless, it wouldn’t go plasterin’ its face, or symbol, or whatever it is all over!”

“You can’t assume he has any ulterior motives by just projecting human behavior onto a supernatural being!”

“And why are you so sure it’s some friendly ‘enlightenment’ giver?”

“Because I--” Ford’s expression suddenly went blank and his eyes drifted to some point behind his brother. 

Stan turned around and saw nothing, but he did notice that same twinging spider-sense again. He suspected if he’d been wearing those special goggles right now, he’d see that same sickly yellow aura around his brother.

“Ford? You ok?” Stan asked. No response. “Stanford, snap out of it!” He went to snap his fingers in front of his brother’s face, but a six-fingered hand shot up and grabbed his own instead.

“Just a second.” Ford shushed him with a far-away, dreamy voice.

“Seriously, you’re freakin’ me out.”

“Shhsh!”

After a few more seconds, Ford gave a small nod before focusing back on his brother.

“Sorry about that, Stan. I… uh… I zoned out for a moment there.” He laughed weakly. “I think we both need to go to bed.”

Stan snorted as he watched his brother rush down the hall to his own bedroom. Stanford did have a tendency to zone out from time to time, but that was usually while he was caught up reading or studying or just staring into space, not right in the middle of an argument. And when Ford was zoning out, he wasn’t paying attention to anyone, so he certainly never had to shush anyone. It was almost like Ford had been trying to listen to something. But Stan had super-hearing, and he hadn’t heard a thing. 

Unless… Stan remembered the triangle floating out of Ford’s head a few nights ago… Unless it was something Ford could only hear in his mind.

* * *

As Ford had hoped, he found himself in his mindscape almost as soon as he fell asleep, his muse floating before him. Which was good, because he really needed a word with Bill now.

“You disappear for four nights, only to show up while I’m awake again! And in the middle of a conversation, no less!” He made his annoyance clear.

“WELL EXCUSE ME, I THOUGHT YOU WANTED SOME QUALITY TIME WITH YOUR BROTHER!”

“I do, but that doesn’t have to exclude your night visions, does it? And that doesn’t excuse jumping into the middle of our conversation just to stop me from telling Stan about you!

“I WAS JUST LOOKING OUT FOR YOU, SIXER! YOU WERE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING YOU’D REGRET LATER.”

Ford sighed. “You’re right, as always. Thank you. Letting slip that I have a literal muse in the middle of an argument certainly isn’t how I want him to find out. I need to find the right time to tell him.”

“I WOULDN’T RECOMMEND IT.” 

“Please, Bill, I know Stanley can be a valuable asset in building the portal! We’ve been testing his strength, he can lift upwards of a thousand pounds! Immagine what he can do to help with salvaging parts from the alien ship or placing the superstructure frame!”

“LOOK, SIXER, IF YOU TELL YOUR BROTHER YOU’RE GETTING YOUR IDEAS FROM ME, AN OTHERWORLDLY MUSE WHO ONLY CHOSES ONE GREAT MIND A CENTURY, ONE OF TWO THINGS’LL HAPPEN. EITHER HE’LL THINK YOU’RE A NUT-JOB, OR HE’LL GET JEALOUS THAT YOU WERE CHOSEN INSTEAD OF HIM. AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO REMIND YOU WHAT A JEALOUS STANLEY IS CAPABLE OF.”

“... He says it was an accident.”

“WE BOTH KNOW YOU DON’T REALLY BELIEVE THAT. AND EVEN IF IT WAS TRUE, DID THAT SAVE YOUR SPIDERS?”

“... No.”

“THEN WE’RE AGREED! YOU’LL KEEP STANLEY IN THE DARK. ALTHOUGH, I GUESS WE COULD STILL USE HIM TO HELP BUILD THE PORTAL. THAT SUPER-STRENGTH SURE WILL COME IN HANDY!”

“Well, if you didn’t want Stan finding out, you shouldn’t have interrupted me earlier. Now he’s bound to be suspicious.”

“AW, I’M NOT WORRIED. A GENIUS LIKE YOU WILL FIGURE IT OUT, NO PROBLEM!”

Ford smiled. “Thanks, Bill, your confidence in me really does make me feel better.”

* * *

Stan wasn’t completely surprised when his spider-sense went off again just an hour after he’d gone to bed. It was the smallest period of time between warnings yet, but Stan was finally getting an idea of what this weird twinging spider-sense was trying to warn him of, so the frequency didn’t bother him. If it really was the triangle guy, then it made sense that he’d come back after whatever had happened to Ford earlier.

Now, what to do about it? Obviously, waking Ford in the middle of whatever was going on just made him mad. Was there a way to communicate with it? Catch it? 

Stan had a dream catcher hanging from his rearview mirror in his car. He didn’t remember where he’d gotten it. He’d probably bought it to cover for all the actual valuables he’d stolen from some gas station or gift shop somewhere. He knew it probably wouldn’t work. It was just some mass-produced trinket, not a genuine article crafted by a Native American who knew what they were doing. But for the time being, Stan didn’t have any other options. It was worth a shot.

After grabbing the dream catcher, the web shooter, and the anomaly goggles, Stan crept into Ford’s room and dangled the cheap trinket over Ford’s head with a line of webbing. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long this time. After just five minutes, Stan saw the triangle float out of his brother’s head again. He was honestly surprised when the thing stopped half-way through the web. It started to struggle, like it was stuck. Just as Stan was about to reach out and grab it, the triangle guy just rose out of the dream catcher like it wasn’t even there. It stared directly at Stan. Despite the fact that it didn’t speak, and only had one eye for a face, it’s expression clearly read “Haha, just kidding. You actually thought that would work? Idiot.”

“W-wait, I just wanna talk!” Stan whispered as quietly as he could. Thankfully, Ford didn’t wake.

The triangle guy looked at Stan intently. And then disappeared.

Stan huffed in frustration and carefully cleared away all evidence that he’d been in his brother’s room that night. Well, that hadn’t worked. But he wasn’t going to give up yet.

* * * 

JWZ CFAY PLVST EIQD, SCM? PPTQ, FLGGX T ENEW IWKLVLX QWW T WQYMWM HALB. N’EW PFOP BT VLTQ BY I KXH XFPYA KBCAY.

[brascul]

What Kamski Left Behind

Previous: 1/2 Characters: Tony Stark, Connor, and Chloe. Summary: “I believe that is an android prototype willed to Howard Stark after Elijah Kamski’s death.” Elijah Kamski? Now that is a name that Tony knows. AN: I forgot to post the second part on Tumblr! Wow!!

“Who is this?”

Tony beams, “This is Connor! A state of the art android!”

“You must be Virginia Potts,” Connor holds out his hand politely for a shake.

“Yes, but everyone calls me Pepper,” she confirms as she stares at his hand. Connor continues to hold out his hand, unmoving, taking no offense to her reluctance in shaking it. “So this is the android you’ve been working on for months?”

“The one and only!” Tony can’t contain the joy from his words.

Pepper glances at Tony and then back at Connor’s hand. She reaches for his hand and gives him a firm shake. “Pleasure.”

Connor smiles. He smiles a really weird smile that Tony knows is an attempt to follow basic human ‘friendliness’ in greetings.

“You can call on him for whatever you need,” Tony explains to her, “and I’ve set him up so that he has direct communication with Jarvis! Jarvis will send him to you if you ever need any manual work done.”

“I have assistants for that,” Pepper sighs.

“You never know when you’ll need an extra hand,” Tony shrugs with a lopsided smile. Pepper sees his happiness and can’t help but form her own smile. Tony’s mood lifts her own. “Just don’t hurt him too much. He’s my baby.”

Pepper raises a brow. “Your baby?”

“Hell yeah!”

“That’s the sort of terms you use for your cars Tony.”

“I’ll have you know that I created some of those automobiles-”

“He’s not a car,” Pepper interrupts. She then looks Connor up and down. “Or a baby.”

“Mr. Stark may call me whatever he likes,” Connor interjects.

“He doesn’t mind!” Tony says in elation.

“It’s strange if another grown man calls another grown man his baby.”

“I am not a grown man, Ms. Potts,” Connor explains, “I am an RK800. An Android model created to assist Mr. Stark.”

“No but you look like one,” she tells him.

Connor says nothing to that.

“Enough of confusing Connor,” Tony waves at Pepper dismissively. “I’ve got tons of things that I need to catch up on now that he’s up and running.”

“Speaking of which,” Pepper says, “you have an appointment with Nick Fury.”

“That old kook again?”

“You’ve been neglecting his calls for months.”

“Why should that change now?”

“Because you’re the leader of the Avengers,” Pepper scolds Tony like a child.

Tony simply huffs and folds his arms across his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

After introducing Connor to Pepper - Tony made certain to introduce Connor to many of the staff members as well. He couldn’t have the employees at the front desk denying Connor any entry. Then again, even if they did, Jarvis would simply comm them and tell them to let him in.

Tony gets a lot of his things in order before he drags Connor to Detroit.

Chloe waits for them.

Tony doesn’t break promises.

Okay - well - except for that one time…

He shivers at the memory.

Pepper was not a person to break promises with.

Chloe welcomes them with open arms. She shows the same exhilaration that Tony had when Connor had first woken up. She circles around Connor in inspection, checking him up and down, and Tony stands to the side to watch.

Chloe then glances at Connor’s LED.

She raises her hand and her fingers gently touch the side of her own forehead.

Strange.

“Did you know what his original purpose was for?” She distracts herself with a question as her hand falls back to her side.

Tony shakes his head. “No.”

“He was created to assist in police investigations. Homicide.”

So that’s why he had a whole crap-ton of features that Tony hadn’t understood. He had been tempted to remove half of them but didn’t on the account that he might have to start from scratch again. One wrong move could be the biggest mistake.

“Why is that?”

Chloe shrugs.

“Haven’t a clue.”

He misses the flash that flies through her eyes.

Tony leaves Chloe’s place after she has her fun asking Connor a billion questions about the way he works. Connor knows every little detail about how he functioned.

He takes Connor around Detroit to see how he’d react to things in person. Connor may have the entire web in his head, just like Jarvis, but that didn’t mean he should miss out in the experiences of half of the places they went too. Tony had the full intent on showing Connor the wonders of humanity. He’d show him that there was a lot more to just being a machine even if that was exactly what Connor was.

Connor seems to appreciate it.

Or, at least he pretends to because he always seeks to please everyone with his weird smile.

Which was fine by the way. It was charming all on its own.

Their trip doesn’t last too long. They’re back at the Avengers Tower before the next evening and Tony does another check-up on Connor.

Then he sees something he had missed.

Small. That’s the only way to explain it.

Deviant string.

That’s what it was titled. It had been carefully tucked into the corner of Connor’s programming.

Tony had no idea what it did.

But Connor? He knows every detail about it right?

“What’s this?” Tony points at the floating screen of information in front of him.

Connor glances over at Tony and his eyes scan the screen with precision.

“I am… unsure…”

Okay.

Okay? Wait a second.

“How do you not know?”

“It’s not something I’m familiar with,” Connor rephrases. “I do not how to interpret it.”

“Lame,” Tony huffs before taking a closer look at it.

Must be Kamski.

Of course, it had to be Kamski. Who else could it be?

What a mysterious guy. Tony had looked over his notes ten times over and still didn’t know more about him. Then again, he looked over his research notes. Not his diary.

Tony lets Connor free from his clutches after a thorough inspection. Once he sees that everything is in order - Tony proceeds to do tune-ups on his suits.

He had pushed off Iron Man for far too long.

It seems that tuning up his suits were a good idea.

Who would predict that they’d be attacked three weeks later?

“I am Paper Wasp!” Pfft.

“You’ve ruined my life!”

Unlikely. “Now I’ll have to start all over again!” Uh…

“And I’ll start over after I kill you!” Paper Wasp was a scrawny-looking man with a baggy costume. The only things that looked sorta-good were the giant wasp wings that shot out of his back.

Paper Wasp, or whatever his name was, (what a forgettable guy) also had a gun he called a stinger.

Tony underestimated him.

He does that a lot. Ha. Damn.

Tony sniffs as the pain hits him like a fastball going at 100 mph.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

He flies into the wall. Totally destroys the thing.

Rude!

Connor stands to the side. He glances between the both as Tony lays in his wrecked lab.

“Do you need assistance? Mr. Stark?”

“Stay out of this!” Tony warns. He gets up, wipes his nose, and gets hit by another ‘stinger’ pellet.

He flies back. Again.

“You are injured-” Connor sounds worried. Connor never sounds worried. When did Connor ever sound worried?

“That’s an order!” Tony says because he doesn’t want Connor to get hurt. It took eight freaking months just to get him to walk around. The last thing Tony wanted was for Connor to have some irreparable damage.

Huh.

Maybe Connor wasn’t actually so different from humans.

Tony realizes that he values Connor’s life a lot.

Paper Wasp aims again.

“This time I’ll kill you!” ‘Like you weren’t aiming to kill before? ’ Tony thinks to himself.

Tony watches as Paper Wasp prepares to pull the trigger.

He also watches as Connor throws himself at Paper Wasp. He throws his whole body at him. His whole body.

It knocks Paper Wasp off-guard and makes the man stumble.

“Get off of me!”

‘Better work quick!” Tony’s thoughts are loud as he holds up one of his gauntlets.

Ba’am.

One blast to the chest.

Connor jumps back.

Paper Wasp falls to the ground.

Alive. He should be. Tony made sure it was non-lethal.

Ah - but…

Tony sends his meanest glare to Connor.

His baby. His baby!

He could’ve gotten killed!

“Connor! I explicitly told you not to get involved! When did you ever start disobeying orders!?”

Connor straightens himself and looks Tony dead in the eyes.

“I could not let you suffer any further harm.”

“You aren’t equipped for fighting!” Tony says, disregarding that Connor knows how to fend off attackers defensively. “Anything could have happened!”

Tony was unaware that Connor had already mapped several different scenarios within his mind’s eye. Connor had done what he did because he knew that it would be the most effective way to catch Paper Wasp off guard.

“I apologize,” Connor says. It’s not sincere. Not at all.

Tony lets a tired noise escape his lips.

Connor never disobeyed orders.

He never-

Tony pauses.

Deviant string.

“We’re going to have a long talk about this,” Tony states. He has a tone that leaves no room for questioning.

Connor nods.

Tony does have that talk with Connor. He has a really long talk with Connor as he checks him over for the third time that evening.

Tony looks at the deviant string. Again.

He glances back at Connor who sits like a kicked puppy.

“This might be a bit troublesome,” Tony mumbles to himself as his finger hovers over the location of the deviant string. One swipe would throw it in the trash. It was easily retrievable, certainly, but it was the action that mattered. Getting rid of it meant that Connor wouldn’t disobey again. Connor wouldn’t do something against Tony’s will.

He wouldn’t-

He wouldn’t…

He couldn’t do that.

He wanted Connor to be his own person.

Was that a strange thing to think of an android? It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. Tony has had several thoughts of severely reworking Jarvis several times because of the things the AI would do for Tony. Wasn’t Connor similar in that aspect? It’s not like Connor had any ill-intent with his actions either. He had done it all to protect Tony.

Tony’s hand falls to his side.

He pulls up a chair near to where Connor sits on his examination table.

Tony smiles.

“I’m done,” he says, “scolding you, that is.”

Connor blinks.

“Thank you. For protecting me.”

Tony finds himself utterly fascinated by the expression that Connor pulls off.

A smile.

It’s not the normal one.

It’s so human.

“I would do it again.”

[rockleefangirl987]

What You Love...(For Rock Lee Birthday Month!)

I wrote this last year as we had a challenge for Rock Lee Birthday Week. I thought I would post it again, and this was in answer to the challenge made by @sausage-fist. I thought it was a great way to start it out. Here was the challenge:

Lee has a passion for training and becoming stronger!! It’s what he strives for every day. What is your passion? What do you strive to become? Create something that involves you telling him or showing him the thing you are most passionate about whether it be sports, drawing or even comedy!! Show Lee what you train for every day.

What I train for? I try to write each day, as I have since I was too young to even know why. My inspiration included the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, Margaret Mitchell and Daphne DuMaurier, because they wrote the books my mother loved and taught me to love. I wanted to tell stories full of unbridled passion and real human beings with all their little problems and life not always turning out as we hoped. I wanted my readers to visualize everything as though a movie was playing before you. So as a writer, you struggle with all the right words and...

Well, Lee, this is for you - one more time. 

I...I do not...I do...not...understand,” he said between deep gulps. I watched his head bounce up, vanish, bounce up again, then drop out of sight - over and over as it had for the last ten minutes. No matter how often I saw him perform his push-ups, the idea of him managing a conversation and performing a countdown in his brain astonished me to no end.

“What do you mean? What don’t you understand?” I replied, drawing one leg underneath me as I readjusted myself in the large wicker chair.

The fall morning was too beautiful to stay indoors, even if your work engulfed you, preventing a full enjoyment of the day. Still, it was nice being close to one’s muse. One’s overactive muse...We had been out in the garden for hours, me with my writing and him performing what came naturally. At one point there were pull-ups and rotations from a stout tree limb fifteen feet off the ground. On another occasion, he did nothing but run. For the two of us, it was typical.

Once more I asked, “I know sometimes I feel like I’m talking in riddles.”

“No...No...it...it is not...not that. You said you...you were...having...problems.”

“Yeah.”

“But...what you are doing...it seems simple, right?”

Twirling my favorite pen as one might a baton, I stopped before launching into one of my habits: clutching the instrument between my teeth. How many times did I have to remind myself: you don’t know where that pen came from? Even if I was the only one handling it. Even if I kept it safe within any of my numerous notebooks. I snatched an antibacterial wipe from a nearby container, and while I cleaned the pen, concentrated once more on what he asked.

I couldn’t help smiling at the notion. From others, I might have taken exception, but from him? The innocent expression indicated one thing: his questions were because he was curious and cared about my well-being. For the last hour, I had grumbled, scowled, buried my face in my hands, torn one sheet from the binder, then another, doodled terrible stick figures - a couple with bushy eyebrows (seeing those made him giggle as he joked ‘I do not look like that, do I?’). Still, I wondered how I might better explain so he’d comprehend, not because he was stupid, but…

“Yeah, I guess it does seem simple.” Smiling, I tapped the notebook resting on the portable writing desk in my lap. “Every time you see me, I’m putting words to paper.”

“Or typing...typing away...on...your...computer. Sometimes...you never stop.”

“Neither do you.”

He paused, considered my words, then returned to his routine. “That is true...But...But is it that...difficult?”

“Writing?”

He nodded a response.

Chuckling, I used an index finger and thumb to massage the insides of my eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it can be. Not all the time, but...I don’t know...It just feels like it’s all stuck up here.” I pointed at my head. “And it doesn't want to come out! I see it...I can hear it...Everything! Descriptions, what everybody says to each other, what characters are thinking or feeling! Then I try to write it, and I read it, and I think…”

“What do you think?” after I didn’t respond for several moments.

“That it’s the most godawful garbage anybody’s ever written.”

“Two thousand!” he shouted.

Was he already finished?

“But I have seen books in bookstores. I tried to read excerpts.” He sat cross-legged on the ground near me. “And I told Guy-Sensei the writing was so painful I thought I was going to cry. Tenten is more explicit. She said the authors should be locked in a room and forced to listen to the pain they have inflicted on their readers.”

I snickered, rolling my eyes, nodding in agreement.

The chunin continued. “And some of those books have been made into movies. Although truth be told, the filmed versions were not any better than their source material.”

I laughed again. “Who died and made you a movie critic?” Shrugging, he responded with a smile I'm certain he prayed would make me feel at ease. Under normal circumstances, it might have. Right then, nothing I felt empty, lost in the problems of my own making. “Yeah, well, I’d like to be a little bit better than that. Not that I’d sneeze at a million dollar contract from a publisher or a movie studio, but my name’s going to be on it. I’d like people to look back at my stuff and think ‘Wow! Another Gone with the Wind! Another Pride and Prejudice!’ Not ‘Oh my God - take away that woman’s laptop and paper and pen and break her hands so she never writes again!’”

There came that soft giggle which never failed to make me smile. I couldn't help it. “That is so silly. I have read your stories, remember? No one would ever accuse you of writing...well…some of the books I have seen. You do not write about vampires or werewolves or fifty whatever.” A blush came to his cheeks. “You write about...people, life.”

“I try,” I muttered, exhaling. I was frustrated. I had been working on one chapter for three weeks - bits and pieces here and there. What should have been a basic, informational few scenes stressing the heroine’s dilemma bogged me down a third of the way through. In that time frame, I rewrote one scene more than a half-dozen time. Another key scene faced four times under the knife. Each time I looked at the words, I groaned, cursed (I never did that in front of him), and either hit the backspace key or drew several furious lines through the sentences on the lined paper. That second scene annoyed me to Hell. It sounded stilted, forced. Characters I’d handled for almost a year fell to pieces. I imagined them glaring at me from my Chromebook screen or my notebook, each of them thinking ‘What in the world is her problem?’ I honestly didn’t know, so in the meantime, I returned to previous chapters - the chapters I loved, chapters over which I had also once struggled.

“You are seeking perfection.”

I looked up and into those large dark eyes. “I guess.”

“Of course you are! You have shown me so many wonderful chapters, and I am always honest and tell you how they are. They are good. No, how great they are. The old adage is right. You do have a way with words.”

I ducked my head. That was something I had heard since my school days.

“And then you return and tell me, ‘I redid this. What do you think?’ It will be the same scene, but you have added more dialogue, removed this or that, changed a phrase about, added a new thought...and it is still good. Then you work on another chapter or scene, but you keep returning to the other, although I did not think anything was wrong with it in the first place. But you know what?”

“No, what?”

“No matter how many times I read it when you make the adjustment, whatever that might be, it is even better than before, although I did not think it possible...But you must realize, the time is going to come when you cannot make another change. That it is as good as it will ever be. Otherwise...you will never finish.”

“Huh.”  

He scooted closer. “You have been working on our story for a while.”

“I just want to get it right.”

“I know. I appreciate that. But you joked the other day you have barely scratched the surface and you have written...sixteen chapters?”

“Eighteen, nineteen,” I confessed. “Some of them don’t have chapter numbers yet because they come later in the story. And a few are so long, I could split those down into another chapter or two.”

“Yes...They are good too, you know.” He gave me a thumbs up accompanied by a toothy grin. “I especially like the one, you know, the one where…”

“I know.” This wasn’t the first time he told me he did. Every time he read that part, tears filled his eyes when he finished. “It’s kind of my favorite too.”

“How many revisions?”

“I deleted a sentence last night.”

“Not again!” It was his turn to sigh in frustration. “If you have not scratched the surface yet, it will be another year or two or three before you write ‘THE END’, and it will not be the actual end because you will revise and rework and rephrase it and…”

“Yeah I know, I know!”

It happened before I knew it. Pen, notebook, and portable desk were thrown to the ground. I was upset with myself, not with what he told me. He realized that too, having seen my temper flair before. He also said nothing when he saw me tear up, reaching down to touch the cherry wood of the lap tray he’d given me as a birthday gift. If I damaged something which came from his heart…

With great calmness, he picked up the items, placed them on the table in front of me, then raised the lid on the Chromebook.

“When I said I did not understand why it is not simple when you are writing, I was wrong.” He maneuvered the mouse, digging deep into the carefully organized folders in the Cloud. “When someone has a passion for something, and it means everything to them, others should not tell them they must give it up or lower their goals.” Although I observed him in profile, he was smiling. “I ought to know.” He turned briefly, winking at me. “This is what you work hard for. This gives your life meaning. It is your code - your Ninja way. I have made a promise to support you as best I can, just as Guy-Sensei still does for me. I am sorry if I do not always appear to understand.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not you. A lot of times, you’re the one who gives my brain the jumpstart it needs.” I gave the lap desk a quick once over, pleased there was no damage. “I’m sorry.”

“It is alright.”

“But it’s not alright. You gave me something special and I…”

“Your passion got the better of you.”

“That wasn’t passion. That was me and my stupid temper.” My voice dropped lower. “Lee, what are you looking for?”

“It is fine. I have found it.”

I saw that the folder he clicked bore the tentative title of the story I had given my nearly undivided attention to these last eleven months. “But I don’t…”

“Your writing means the world to you. One day you will finally show everyone what I consider myself privileged to read. But until then…” He squatted in the chair next to me. “Start it again. I want you to hear how good it is, and I find that reading it aloud can make a great difference.” When I hesitated, he gave me a slight nudge. “Go on. Remember, nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

Black letters against a white background were plastered across the screen, meaningless when I first took a look at them. All of that came from me. The inspiration was the person at my side. Giving him a peck on the cheek, I smiled and began to read the words familiar to both of us.   

@ten-all-over @fruitysmellz @sausage-fist @samlovesmaitogai @shock777 @nejicanspin @sincerelysinclair17 (is that you @Morganknightos), @teacher-monica @strikeelectricart and all you other Rock Lee fans.