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infj-zen · 4 years ago

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#GetSorted challenge

#GetSorted from mbti-sorted

Okay, for interest’s sake I’m going to answer a few of these questions in writing. It’s almost midnight, we’ve been in COVID-19 lockdown for a while now and I don’t look camera ready.

Actually, that’s an excuse.

I would not go on camera even if there were no pandemic.

To everyone who does the video challenge, congratulations on your bravery.

So, here goes...

Tell us about a teacher or a coach who left a big impression on you. I had a longstanding EFSJ music teacher who would probably be considered charismatic, dominant, driven, hot-tempered, sometimes extremely funny. She emphasized repetition so that all her students had as close to perfect technique as possible. You were not allowed to have any input into her methods and students with a lot of opinions usually left or were asked to leave. She was very good at teaching the way she taught and for some students her methods worked particularly well. I learned that I did not like learning by repetition and did not retain as much that way. However, by subjugating my own preferences I was forced to address my weaknesses. Maybe it resulted in personal growth in terms of seeing the value of repetition in developing physical technique, muscle memory, and the memorization of music. I think it would have helped to also have combined the emphasis on repetition with explanations of the history and theory of the music in order to more fully understand and retain what I had learned. I also learned how to be self-effacing when I needed to be and not to insert ego or opinions where they were not wanted when I later had bosses with similar personality traits. I learned to be more selective and to actively try and put myself in long-term situations where I would be learning/working in the ways most conducive to me. Besides this learning experience, I had some really amazing science and English teachers in later years of high school and university. These were mostly ENTPs along with a few ENFPs and ENTJs. I found the ENTJs often had the most clear explanations for complex subjects. The best ENTP teachers were often very personally considerate and good at explaining things in ways that were easily understandable to me; I was good at synthesizing their ideas. The ENFPs were probably more smooth speakers and yet somewhat less easy to follow for me (they probably also addressed weakness in how I learned, for example, by not always explaining what they wanted super clearly beforehand; learning was a lot of trial and error; we did a lot of acting and oral presentations in class; Ne and Te make for a different way of thinking theoretically, of connecting ideas and facts).

What was your favourite subject in school and did you pursue it as a career? English and Chemistry. I pursued English in University and probably would have gone into Chemistry otherwise. However, I then realized I liked researching as an activity more than actually doing all that academic English involved and ended up studying and working in social sciences - somewhere I never considered when I was younger. A background in literature and writing is generally useful in the various jobs I’ve had though.

Do you have any athletic injuries and how did you get them? Yes, tendonitis from dancing (repetitive jumping and landing on the ball of the foot). This was as a child and it was not permanent.

Do you believe in any supernatural phenomena? No, but I can imagine a lot.

Tell us about a recurring conflict with a family member. Probably the most recent common recurring conflict revolves around being in a conversation with ‘a family member’ who is not listening and responding appropriately. For example, I am talking and ‘a family member’ to whom I am speaking responds by addressing something that takes on a totally different issue from that which I just referenced. Is the listening fine and the responding not? Is the listening poor and the responding good? Are both the listening and the responding off? Is my articulation poor? Is it mind manipulation?

What character do you identify with the most and why? The closest thing I’ve seen on screen is probably Caroline Turing in Person of Interest. Episode 23, Season 1 of POI features an INFJ actress playing something very close to an INFJ psychologist. Her mannerisms, speech patterns and interactions with her ISTP co-star (playing an ISTP former-military-guy-acting-as-a-patient-to-save-her-from-hitmen) are pretty realistic. Unfortunately, her real character, Samantha Groves aka Root, a serial killer for hire is only pretending to be Caroline Turing in order to gain access to the ISTP’s INTJ computer genius boss (played by an INTJ) and his AI surveillance system. So, the portrayal of this character only lasts for one episode.

How many languages do you speak? Is English your first language? If it isn’t, answer a question in your native language (please summarize it after in English!). Two. English (native speaker) and French.

What advice would you give to your younger self and what would they think of where you are now? Would you warn them about anything? Maybe just that what fields you enjoy studying in and working in may end up being different areas. In terms of having better job prospects, I might advise my younger self to study a subject like software engineering (which I didn’t have a lot of knowledge of or exposure to through our high school education system). That might be very useful in finding a fulfilling job now or in complementing the degree or field I went into. Also, I was extremely driven when I was younger and I would probably advise myself to take school more slowly, less courses at a time, more time to focus on course work, and generally to manage things in a way that resulted in less burnout.

Do you people-gather? (If you’re unsure, ask others in your group(s) if they’re there because of you.) How many groups do you belong to, and what do you think of this? Not so much for the people-gathering. I do not join a lot of groups. Usually, when I do, it is because I got dragged into it by someone charismatic and friendly. I often stay with the group for a relatively lengthy period. I end up feeling highly committed out of a sense of loyalty to the recruiter/group. At some point I end up leaving the group (often involves physically moving away to justify) and having a sense of extreme burnout when the mention of joining anything similar comes up.

Are you passionate about your career? Tell us about it. Sort of. I went into my career with the idea that I would have less chance of burnout if I went into something I was dispassionate about. For example, less interaction with people (using Fe) and more paperwork (using Ni and Ti). Some of my jobs have involved a lot of customer service and the use of Fe all day was overstimulating and emotionally draining. The best jobs so far involved working at a desk 9-5 and basically using a lot of Ni and Ti while organizing information in systems. This felt like meditating; I would achieve a zen-like state and feel energized afterwards. I would not say I was passionate about the nature of the work but the zen-like feeling was nice. In terms of being passionate, I think I might prefer a job that involved more of a research component. I think I would like to feel more challenged, to learn a lot of new things every day. However, I would not like to be in a career that feels too passionate for really long periods of time, or in a high-stress environment that would result in burnout. I would like more of a balance. You can always find hobbies you are passionate about on the side.

Which holiday brings you the least joy? Labour Day. The thought of going back to school or work ruins it.

Are you a heartbreaker or a heartbreak-ee? 50-50.

What is your dream car? Or if you aren’t into cars, what piece of technology do you dream of owning? I really like my laptop.

Would you rather make a lot of money at a job you hate or do a job you love that keeps you below the poverty line? I would rather have a job I love that keeps me below the poverty line because I don’t spend a lot. However, I would not like to have a job that keeps me way below the poverty line, because then I would feel used and would start to hate the job that kept me so much below the poverty line.

Do you collect anything? Other than information gathering, not really. The idea of accumulating large quantities of physical items and taking care of all of them sounds like a lot to think about or unnecessary stress.

Have you ever had any alternative career paths/life gameplans? Do you wish you had taken another path in retrospect? Sure. Chemistry or Software Engingeering looked interesting and probably would have helped in the job market, even in combination with the field I’m in. That way, my skills might have been more of a focus than personality, career-wise.

Do you have a good sense of direction? How do you navigate (when you can’t rely on GPS)? Do you navigate new places/buildings the same way you navigate your home town/familiar buildings? Is your sense of time better or worse than your sense of direction? No, I do not have a good sense of direction. Mbti-sorted is the only person I know whose sense of direction is worse than mine. And that only applies when walking somewhere. When driving somewhere, she has a better sense of direction. I am decent but not excellent with maps, professionally made and drawn by me. With a place I know well, I just walk around without thinking much. Usually it’s okay. Sometimes, I’m surprised to be lost in a place I thought familiar. With new places, I usually plan ahead. I study maps, bring them with me, compare the map with the physical reality around me for similarities and differences, get upset by perceived inaccuracies, visualize the layout of the land if the land and the map were flipped in different directions, try and detect logical patterns in street layouts and names, I try and remember locations of importance and what they look like, directions between key starting points and destinations, and I take down numbers for taxis in case of failure. Sometimes I walk new streets rather than drive in order to actively experience routes more slowly and have time to memorize them better. My sense of time is okay but not great. I feel the need to meet deadlines. I remember I used to rush to classes at the last minute for school, but I guess I did feel the need to get there on time. I have learned to avoid rushing, to be more responsible and set alarms and to carry a cell phone with a clock around with me to arrive on time and often early for important events. Probably my sense of time is better than my sense of direction.

Credit to Temple Grandin for this question: if I tell you to think of a church steeple, what’s happening inside your head? (You could also talk about a clock tower, or a water tower, or a minaret - something you are familiar with, but have less personal connection to works best.) I immediately thought of a white, aluminum sided cube topped by a black pyramid with light blue sky in the background. My mind was adverse to or somehow felt it unnecessary to think beyond that.

Would you be unable or unwilling to answer any of these questions? Which? No, in that I answered all the questions. I guess I did so in writing and was unwilling to answer them on video. I think you can almost always figure out how to phrase things in a way that is acceptable to you in writing. Yes, in as much as message is affected by medium.

C. ANSWER THESE THREE QUESTIONS (30 seconds):

How much preparation did you do before making this video? If you have an interviewer, did you pick the questions or did they? Who decided to do it that way? A bit / no interviewer / me

What type do you think you are? INFJ

In 1-3 adjectives, describe how you think others see you. Calm and conscientious (from collegues and acquaintances), scrappy (from family).

#mbti #infj #getsorted

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elgringo300 · 4 years ago

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30 Days of Worldbuilding - Day 2: Weekends

I arrive in Endora. I had heard talk of their lifestyle, but nothing could prepare me for how radically different it is from anything I had known in Galras. The city is so incredibly ancient, and yet it only covers a small portion of the isle.

It was originally founded as a resting port for sky ships travelling to Destra from Galras. That was hundreds of years ago. More and more people began moving here from all the Isles. It especially grew thanks to the persecution of alchemists in Galras a couple hundred years ago.

The city's history is exceptionally interesting. Thanks to many circumstances, it’s never had a strong city government. Every attempt has either been ignored or removed. At the moment, there is a mayor, but the word is he is mayor in name only. Despite its reputation, the city remained attractive as an escape from the Galrian government and Destran theocracy. There are some Minvrese here, but they are the exception rather than the rule. The barbarians seem to prefer the harsh cold to any sort of civilization.

As immigrants arrived, the city expanded outward. They say every hour’s walk away from the port represents fifty years of immigration. Walking through the city feels like taking a stroll through history, as each successive ring is colonized by a different culture, a different time period. Some buildings near the port have stood for hundreds of years. Several hours walk from the port, the city’s style changes drastically, the ring occupied by the victims of the Alchemic exodus. Even within this ring, the style changes.

At first the houses are built from ironoak which was molded by the Alchemists to better fit the form of a house. Soon, as the alchemist's abilities increased, the houses are built directly out of trees, which as they grew, were molded into the forms of their dwellings. It's like seeing a village of elves from the fantasy books, but in the middle of a city.

It’s in this ring where I found a place to stay. There is an inn built into a massive ironoak tree, owned by an old lady who intends to pass the property to her daughter with time. It's quite the experience to wake up in the morning in what appears to be a normal wooden room, then look out the window to see branches, leaves, and birds singing not two feet away.

Mrs.Gruppin, the innkeeper, also has an interesting hobby, one which is more familiar to me as a Galrian perhaps than to folk from Destra or Endora. She maintains a small garden of metallic crops, mostly silver-leaf and copper-root flowers. She also owns her own ferro-loom, where she spins the crops into raw silver and copper fiber which she uses to craft beautiful ornaments. I’ve bought a couple off of her - one is a lizard she calls a relko, and the other is a stymphalian crow. The ornament is only a couple inches long, but she informs me that the real creature is more then two meters tall at the head, and sometimes ambush fishers on the river. It was a rare and unfortunate happening, apparently, but not unheard of.

My second day in Endora, I found the ring I was most interested in - colonized by Galrians not more than hundred years before my arrival. This wave, unlike the alchemists, was completely voluntary, motivated by the talk of a free land in Endora, where government was virtually nonexistent. I was surprised at the differences in architecture between these immigrants and the buildings I had left behind in Galras. Only a few buildings followed the tall, imposing style that dominated the cities of my home. Instead, they were mostly two to three story, square buildings built out of metal fiber they must have purchased from the alchemists or others. There was a large variety in between the styles of the individual houses, though. The roofs are sometimes decorated with interesting patterns which are woven into the metal fiber, or the walls with different colors. It seems that many of the Galrians who left their ancestral homes did so to escape the monotony of the vast cities of my country. And no wonder! Galras is worthily praised for many of its aspects, but the beauty of its architecture is not one of them.

Most of the Tinkerers here work as shipwrights, walking or riding to the port. In their spare time, however, they seem to spend creating. I purchased a small trinket which when wound up, walks in circles.

Scribbled on the side of the page: after the fifth or sixth winding, it suddenly exploded, bursting into pieces. Not a single piece remains attached to another. Was this designed?

These do not seem to be the same people I left in Galras. Those people worked tirelessly day and night to advance in their profession, not wasting a moment on pleasantries like these. I wonder if they left because of this laid-back personality, or if this trait developed because of the new environment they found themselves in?

At the recommendation of a new friend in the Galrian ring, I decided to retrace my steps to taste the alcohol produced by the Alchemists. I found a brewery, and was graciously granted a tour in exchange for a hefty sum of crescents. By the deep, the variety! Alchemists seem to have the capability to distill or ferment any organic matter, from fruit and veggies to ironoak leaves and copper-root. Do the abilities of these strange doctors know no bounds?

On my third day, I backtrack again to find the ring of the Destrans, some of the first settlers here, second only to the initial trading outpost. The architecture here is large and beautiful. Churches dominate this ring, but surprisingly, not all of them of Felenor, as you might think seeing as they come from Destra. Instead, there are temples dedicated to Felenor, Lralso, Caorr, and Elorath all have dedicated places or worship. There’s even one small wooden temple dedicated to a god who supposedly was known from before the ancient storms which drove us to the isles, one represented by a cross. Most of these are built out of stone and marble, a risky endeavor using such a rare material. But it merely demonstrates their dedication to their god of choice.

There is one building here which apparently was once a temple to Felenor, which was abandoned and fell into disrepair. A follower of Felenor came and has converted it into an Academy, one which is dedicated to training young men and women to become guardians and warriors. I was graciously provided a tour for a surprisingly small amount of money. The Ambrose, the headmaster, doesn’t appear to bear bias towards followers of any sect, although the walls of the school are decorated with Felenor’s symbols - a sheathed sword, or sometimes the same sword behind a shield. Many of the students here are from Galras, Destra, or even Mivnir, and arrived in Endora solely to attend the Guardian Academy. To see the students in the courtyard, tirelessly rehearsing drills and dueling against their fellow attendees - it would inspire me to attend if I wasn’t already advanced in my years.

As I return to my bed in the inn, I wish I had time to write down everything I saw. But my pen only moves so fast, and my mind only retains so much. By the time I’ve written down a quarter of my observations, the rest has already fled.

#fantasy #fantasy writing #writeblr #writblr #amwriting #worldbuilding #Venus #TalesFromGringolandia

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marvel-lucy · 4 years ago

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The Ultimate Weapon, chapter 9

OOh, I was being dark and violent here! :D

I probably wasn’t ready for this. Maybe I never would have been, but I’d started now. I felt as if I had two existences – the six years with Hydra, and the few weeks here – and now I was going to see pictures from another existence. How many lives could one person live in twenty years?

The images started to scroll, each appearing on the screen full size for a few seconds before the next. There were a family laughing at a back yard barbecue; a girl with pigtails and a missing front tooth; ID photos, unsmiling and face on; then formal school photos, club members lined up in rows. I watched, letting them flash before my eyes. The last image appeared, taken from a newspaper article, it showed a girl – a teenager. The photo looked like one taken by a friend, she was laughing, in a bedroom somewhere. I could see the writing underneath, ‘missing schoolgirl’. The image remained on the screen, and I stared into the eyes of the girl, then got up and went and looked at my eyes in the bathroom mirror. They were the same.

I felt a jolt of recognition that had me gasping for air. That was me. Those were me, and my family. I grabbed up the screen again and sat down in the corner of the room, subconsciously feeling the need for the security of my back to the wall. More slowly this time, I went through the images again, inspecting each in turn, staring into the background of each photo at wallpaper, furniture, trees. Flashes of memory started shooting through my mind, each image seeming to come alive with sounds, smells, and then gone. I remembered the feel of the grass on my legs as a child at the barbecue, the smell of hotdogs and the sound of laughter; I remembered the blood down my shirt front as my first tooth fell out on photo day, and the feeling of poking my tongue into the hole. ID photos of my parents and brother brought back the sound of their voices, the smell of shampoo and the feel of my Dad’s stubble. Over and over I scrolled through the photos, unaware that my breathing was becoming more laboured as my brain tried to reconstruct a missing life.

Finally, panting, I let my head fall back against the wall, and dropped the screen to the floor. I shut my eyes, and tried to control my breathing. Pieces of memory continued to return, flashing onto the screen of my brain. I pressed my hands to the side of my head, desperate to shut off the flow of information but it came, faster and faster. Birthday cakes, family pets. The pain of a broken arm, the chill of a swimming pool. Names and faces. I squeezed my eyes tighter shut and pressed my hands harder to my head, afraid of what was coming. I was vaguely aware of someone coming into the room but my muscles were locked into a spasm while my brain overloaded with years of repressed memories, beaten down by Hydra. I heard voices speak, but wasn’t able to understand what they meant.

“We’re going to have to sedate her, this was a bad idea…” “Do we know who we’ll get back? The girl or the killer…” “She needs something to calm her breathing Bruce…”

A sharp scratch on my arm and I felt myself slipping to the floor, then being lifted, and then I lost all sense of my body. But my mind continued to rush, the mind powers I’d had enhanced easily overriding the tranquiliser I’d been given, and now there was no escape. I was trapped in my unresponsive body as the memories flooded back, and I couldn’t even scream.

I remembered being 14. Walking home from school in the summer, a book bag in one hand, phone in the other. I was thinking about a boy at school, about going for a swim, about a nagging I’d had from my Dad for untidiness that morning. I was at ease and relaxed, a happy kid on the edge of growing up. I remembered a sharp stab in my neck, my hand rising up to wipe away a mosquito or a thorn, and then falling to the grass verge, seeing boots approaching me and hands picking me up.

I remembered the back of a van, a long drive. A plane? Flashes of drugged memory made no sense for a while, but my mind powers meant that nothing had truly been forgotten, simply buried under layers of pain. Now, sedated on a bed in New York, the layers were stripped away.

I remembered waking to cold and dark, trying to stand and finding I was chained to a bed. Crying out for my Mom and for help, sobbing myself into a cold sleep. I remembered waking again to a man standing over me, and desperately trying to push him away with my hands and my mind, but at that point I’d never learnt to control my powers and he easily swatted both away. Shouting and crying with fear as a collar was locked around my neck, and soon learning that if I used my powers, or resisted, it would be activated.

I remembered the first time I was led to the chair. Bruised now after beatings, after falling to the floor under the control of the collar; shivering and starved and bereft of hope, except the hope I might die soon. Seeing a large chair with restraints and fighting being put in until a punch to my side knocked me over and I wasn’t able to resist. I remember being strapped in, the collar removed and a piece of leather put between my teeth, fear making me sweat. I remembered the needle going in, the feeling of ice spreading up my arm making me bite down and scream.

Still the memories kept coming. If I hadn’t been sedated, I’d have beaten my head against a wall to try and escape but to anyone observing me I must have looked peaceful and rested, unaware of the barrage of information flooding my brain while my body lay still.

Memories of repeated beatings, every time I failed to comply. Being taught to fight, all with the collar on so that if I tried to attack or escape, I would be punished. Learning to fight with knives, sticks, fists, relentlessly. Little rest, little food. More injections. Time was meaningless in my head and in the bunker, had I been there days or weeks or months when they brought out my family? Leaning exhausted against a wall, seeing the door open and my parents and brother come stumbling out, bruised and bloodied and collared.

I remember my brother vomiting with fear, my father sobbing, my mother mouthing ‘I love you’. I remember using every power I had to try and free them, kicking and screaming and punching, lashing out with my mind. Those were the first two Hydra agents I killed, two guards who had brought me to my cell. Then I saw my father, fall, choking to the floor, as his collar was activated. He writhed, purple faced as I screamed. I fell to my knees and they let him breath again.

I remembered a man in uniform in front of me. A voice. “Understand this. Your family will die. You have a choice. Submit and they die easily. Resist and they die hard. This pain will make you stronger, make you a weapon. This is the last choice you will ever be allowed to make for yourself. What will it be?”

I remember looking up, seeing the soldier’s scarred face in front of me, and my family behind. I saw my mother’s eyes on me and again she whispered. ‘It’s OK’. That had broken me then, and it broke me again now. I tried to turn my head away from the memories but there was no escape. I remember saying ‘I submit’ and then watching the soldier turn and shoot them each once, their bodies crumpling together.

After that, I remember blocking out love, fear, hope. There was nothing left. No one would save me, I couldn’t let myself be a person anymore because a person could grieve and I couldn’t let myself. Still they kept at me, training me, giving me more serum, more beatings. I remembered the time when they filled my cell with water to my ankles so I was constantly cold and wet, other times when they denied me water and kept the cell so hot my lips cracked and bled with the dehydration. I remembered being hosed down with water so icy I lost my breath and my skin turned blue. I remembered days and days without food where I was still expected to fight, any weakness punished. Every torment stripped away another layer of my humanity until I was just a core of anger, a narrow beam of hatred for the world.

I remembered each face that had hurt me. The soldiers who had taught me to fight by attacking me, while I was half starved and half naked and they wore armour. I remembered the scientists who had injected me with serum, brought me back to life from the brink of death, studied my regression to animal state with interest. I remembered the soldiers who had created each scar I had seen on my body. I remembered when I had first been allowed out on a mission, drugged beforehand so that all I was aware of was my target, then tearing through a building until I found the target and broke his neck. I didn’t know who he was, but that death was on me, his blood was on my hands as were the others that came after.

I remembered the constant changes. The gentle treatment – a bed, some clothes – that were then taken away for no reason. I remembered the days of darkness followed by the days of constant light. I remembered not being allowed to lie down, and not being allowed to stand. I remembered being taught to attack using only my mind, sharpening my mind powers until I could make blood boil from behind a wall, then my collar shocking me again every time I used them. I remembered the scarred man again, telling me over and over that I was their weapon, that my strength was forged in my pain and that they would break me down and build me in their own image.

And all through this, I remembered my mother saying ‘it’s OK’. No matter what they did to me, how they broke me down, I held on to that in a corner of my mind. Perhaps that one memory I had somehow kept for myself was what had enabled me to survive and still retain some control and some humanity, but it was such a tiny shred and I was afraid it would be extinguished.

My eyelids fluttered and I was aware of the soft light through the curtains in my room. The sedative was wearing off and slowly my senses made out that I was lying on the bed, that there were people murmuring in the room, that my muscles were slowly coming back to life. I coughed and tried to sit myself up but with the sedative still in my blood, I was weak and fell back again.

“Hey there”. A soft voice, Bruce. “OK, we got you, stay lying down, you’re not up to sitting up yet”. Another voice, Sam.

“We think it was just a bit much, showing you all that information so soon, we’ve taken it away, no need to think about it for now, just rest”. That was Bruce again. They didn’t realise what had happened.

I turned to look at him. “Too late”. My voice was strained as if I’d been silently screaming. “It’s all come back. You drugged me and I couldn’t escape the memories. It’s all here now. Everything I’ve done. Everything that’s happened”. My voice broke again and I coughed. Bruce’s eyes were wide with shock. “You trapped me in my head and now I know everything. You should have let me die”. I rolled onto my side, turning my face away as if they could see the horrors on my face, and sobbed.

I was aware of people in the room, they didn’t leave me alone for the next few days. I lay in the bed and cried, digging my nails into my hands until they bled under the sheets. There was always someone there but I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t reach out, as the horrors in my head replayed over and over. All the deaths I had caused. The loss of my parents, my brother – my fault. All because Hydra wanted what was in my head, something I’d never asked to be there. My muscled ached with tension, and I withdrew, locking myself into my head with shame and guilt.

I don’t know how long it had been, days, a week? Sam and Bruce had tried talking to me, Steve had offered me food, Nat had just sat silently. I was aware of other bodies but I couldn’t respond. I heard the door open again and someone new enter, the sound of talking, which then got louder than normal. The words still meant nothing to me.

“Just let me try ok, everyone out. It’s not like you’re having any success and you all know I’m the only person who can really understand what she’s been through”.

More footsteps, people leaving perhaps. I was only vaguely aware as my head was too filled with past horrors for the present.

Then a shadow fell over my face, someone standing between me and the light as I cried. The body crouched down, it was Bucky, his head now level with mine. His voice was soft.

“I know they’ve tried gentle. I can’t do that, it’s not in me. I can tell you though, that I’ve been there. What Hydra did to you? A lot of that, they did to me too. You’re not alone kid. And I can’t lie to you and tell you that it’s going to disappear and you’ll be happy again, although that’s what they want me to say. What I can say though, is that if you fight through this and get up and eat and rest and pretend to feel human, there will be better days”. He paused. “And I can promise you that if you can find a way to function, you can have revenge”. That made me look up. “These guys, the Avengers, they’re the good guys, we know that. They fight Hydra to make the world a better place. You and me, we have darkness inside us. I don’t think they get that. I fight Hydra to try and relieve that darkness. Or maybe to cover it with darkness of my own choosing, I haven’t looked too hard. Do that with me. By my side. Beat them, for what they did to you”

I’d stopped crying while he spoke. I had no hope then for a future of happiness but listening to Bucky, I did have hope for revenge.

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truthbeetoldmedia · 5 years ago

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The 100 7x01 "From the Ashes"

Welcome back to The 100 (for the last time). We have finally reached the beginning of the end and what a journey it promises to be. Last season ended with several big shockers, Abby Griffin was taken as a host for Simone Prime, the Flame was removed from Madi and effectively destroyed and Octavia Blake was stabbed and disappeared into a fine mist-ala Marvel characters after a Thanos snap. That means that the last season premiere The 100 will ever get already has a lot of questions to answer, in addition to (hopefully) managing to successfully wrap up a series that has spanned several years.

As in previous years I’ll be dividing my review into sections, previously these sections were a riff on the concept of “The Good, The Bad, The Ugly”. This season, I will be separating them based on plot line-as even in this first episode there are two different ones-until those plots begin to coalesce into one.

We’ll begin with what I am currently terming:

“The Main Plot That is Somehow Made Up of Only Side Characters (Two of Whom We Just Met)”

We pick up right where we left off, with Bellamy reeling from Octavia’s strange disappearance and rushing off into the woods around Gabriel’s compound to search for her. In his grief he’s less than observant and he is knocked unconscious and abducted by an apparently invisible force. These few seconds-less than 30-represent all of the screen time Bellamy Blake receives in the first episode of the final season of The 100. Fans who have been watching the promotion for the final season have become increasingly anxious over the absence of the male lead and it seems those anxieties were justified. It is astonishing and offensive that one of the core members of the show is removed completely from the story in the final season, his absence literally stripped from him as he is once again thrust back into a plot line he has only just managed to escape: his life (and thus his worth) being directly proportional to Octavia’s. As Hope escapes and Gabriel and Echo take off after Bellamy we finally actually enter “The Main Plot That is Somehow Made Up of Only Side Characters”.

Eventually, Gabriel and Echo run into Hope, who has discovered-albeit too late-a piece of paper lodged in her arm that states “Trust Bellamy”.That message doesn’t stop her from getting into a quick tussle with Echo and it’s obvious that she’s had some training-with a mother like Diyoza and some kind of relationship with Octavia, that’s not at all surprising. The three of them-after coming to a sort of peace with one another, journey for quite some time. It is full dark before they catch up with the invisible force that has taken Bellamy and when they do so, they find themselves caught up in the hallucinations that the anomaly causes.

Here we see Echo confronted by two ghosts from her past, King Roan and the actual Echo-the one she murdered in order to survive. Both ghosts make valid points-that Echo is a creature driven by servitude, which some I suppose would mistakenly call loyal. They even go so far as to question Echo’s purpose in life now that her current master (Bellamy) is missing. I don’t think it’s an unfair assessment. Echo latched on to Bellamy in Season 4, seeing him as an authoritarian figure and she never really let go. While I do believe that they both love each other, it seems very obvious that said love (at least on Echo’s part) is fueled by a need to have someone who she can serve. Who is Echo once she no longer has someone to answer to, who does she become when her one stabilizing figure is gone. I suppose that’s a question we’ll get answers to this season. Hope also sees a vision-albeit shorter-of Octavia telling her to stay quiet, no matter what she hears. As this is a line we’ve heard in the trailer, it seems obvious that the anomaly can also show someone memories and not just their innermost fears (what we see with Echo). Gabriel sees nothing-or at least nothing we see, but this is unsurprising given he’s studied the anomaly so long.

Finally managing to break free of the hallucinations that they’re being shown the trio manage to get the jump on a few of the invisible assailants and when they do the audience is shown the inside of their helmets. Hope they are told to kill on sight, indicating that she is somehow a known threat to them, but Echo and Gabriel are supposed to be reditioned to Bardo. I’d like to take the time to point out now that to rendition doesn’t simply mean to take. It means that you are treating these people as political prisoners who know potentially damaging information-and want to use any means including inhumane ones to retrieve that information. And Bellamy has already been taken. Despite the order to rendition Gabriel and Echo though, they don’t actually seem to want to capture them, instead continuing to rebuff them, together Gabriel, Echo and Hope manage to stop the assault and their story ends with them walking into the anomaly holding hands-so that they won’t be separated. It’s possible their next stop lands them directly in Bellamy’s path, but given it’s taken them so long to catch up with the Invisible Force I find that unlikely, especially given that the Force can apparently conjure up the anomaly whenever they choose to.

I do find it very interesting that the Invisible Force was also meant to capture Echo and Gabriel and yet-when they chase after Bellamy-the Force fights them off. I'm assuming that they choose to take Bellamy and leave the others so someone is left behind to tell Clarke that Bellamy has been taken.This makes sense as, Clarke being the main character, she’s likely the person they’re trying to ultimately take. It’s just one more piece of bait (that will produce no actual results) for Bellarke fans however. While the instinct is to be excited that whoever has taken Bellamy likely knows that Clarke will do whatever she can to save Bellamy, at this point we all know that nothing good is on the horizon for him.

This leads me into my next section:

“Almost All of the Mains are Here, but it Feels Like This Plotline is Unnecessary”

Sprinkled through this episode like bits of parsley (aka food grass) are the rest of the Arkadians (and yes I still call them that). So much of this particular plot feels like something that could have been taken care of during the Season 6 finale. Almost everything that happens in Sanctum could have been carefully tied up during the final bit of Season 6 and we could have begun this Season with the scene of Octavia being stabbed and disappearing. It feels very disjointed to watch Clarke (and the others) deal with the repercussions of what happened in space, like what to do with Russell Prime (especially as it appears that all of these things happen literally the day after the Season 6 finale). We’re expected to believe that Clarke has apparently gone through all of the stages of grief, somehow managed to find a perfect yellow farmhouse, set up Russell in what is essentially serving as a prison and begun to discuss plans for building a compound for the Arkadians all in, what is essentially a few hours after her mother’s death?

To top all of that off, we never see any cracks in the picture perfect “I’m fine” exterior until Clarke snaps when Russell hands over Abby's ring and clothes and begins to beat him rather brutally. It’s such a stark contrast to her behavior over the course of the episode that it just doesn’t align with anything that she’s done. To have Clarke go from “I want to do better because I don’t want Madi to grow up in a cruel society.” to “We’ve all made mistakes, tomorrow Russell Prime dies for his.” almost gave me whiplash. It would have been so much more believable if we’d seen small cracks in her facade over the course of the episode, but there were none. Am I meant to believe that-like Madi retains some of the memories of the Commanders before her even though the Flame is destroyed-that Josephine (and her sociopathy) linger in Clarke’s consciousness and that’s what made her brutally assault Russell? Or am I meant to believe that this is truly Clarke? I don’t know, but I do know that whatever message they were trying to sink there, it didn’t land.

I did really love Madi’s plot this episode. I enjoy that, now that the Flame is dead she doesn’t have to be a receptacle for a long dead love interest of Clarke’s. I enjoyed that she was going to school and has a house and a dog. I really liked that she was finally able to remind Clarke (and the audience) that she had a mother before Clarke and she didn’t just forget her because Clarke showed up. I did not like the fact that-even in the absence of the Flame-we are expected to believe that Madi still maintains memories from the commander and of course the one they choose to focus on is one of Clarke as Wanheda-meaning that it’s a memory of Lexa’s. It is infuriating to me that the Flame can be destroyed and yet Madi as a character somehow still exists as a mouthpiece for a character who has been dead for over 125 years at this point. It would be nice if this show could spend time actually developing the new characters they forcefully insert into the narrative every year, but I expect in the final season, that might be asking for a bit too much.

To further the refusal to leave the Grounders in the past, Jason somehow manages to have the Dark Commander transfer his consciousness into Russell Prime’s where he lurks in the background until Russell is knocked unconscious by Clarke (are we to assume Russell has not slept during this time as well?). My best guess is that he does this by using some type of Bluetooth/Wi-Ffi situation, When they are destroying the flame and uploading him into the Eligius ship. Because both are Eligius tech, the Flame and the mind drives created by Becca are similar. I assume the Dark Commander’s code searched for (and found in Russell-who was on the ship) something similar to his own tech and simply uploaded himself onto it in the background, waiting for an opportunity to show up. Now all that’s left is to see what type of fresh hell he unleashes on an entirely new planet-especially given some of the residents of said planet believe him to be a god.

I do find Murphy potentially interesting this year. For years he has managed to “cockroach” his way through situations. Staying alive through nearly impossible situations. But there seems to be a fair amount of turmoil surrounding his decisions as they relate to Clarke and Abby (and their deaths) as well as his decision to become a Prime. Given that connection with two of the three Griffin women, and my concern that Madi will find herself in danger once it’s discovered that she is no longer the Commander and once the Dark Commander manages to get her alone (which we all know will happen sooner or later), I would not be surprised if Murphy (who has never been one to make the sacrifice play) does so in this final Season.

Smaller things I enjoyed include Raven and Clarke’s relationship being on the mend. The two haven’t really been friends since Season 2 and Finn’s death, so it’s nice to see that-although it took Shaw and Abby’s deaths respectively-they seem to be leaning on each other at this time. With Clarke having lost all of her natural born family, it would not surprise me if she is willing to go to devastating lengths this Season to keep them all safe. I’m also very interested in the increased presence of both Gaia and Indra. As a fan of both Tati Gabrielle and Adina Porter (and their massive talent) in show’s outside of The 100, I’ve yearned for a deeper exploration into their relationship for Seasons. It looks like we might finally get to dive deeper into who they are now that Gaia is no longer a Flamekeeper and Indra no longer has a Commander.

Overall, I believe this is the weakest Season Premiere of The 100 to date, which is terribly disappointing given the fact that it’s the last one they’ve ever received. Even though we have yet to see the backdoor pilot (Rothenberg says it will be 708), it already feels like this final Season will serve more as a way to set up a show that will likely not take off the ground (because Rothenberg has successfully managed to upset every person in the show’s fanbase) than the sendoff to the existing characters and stories he’s spent 7 years building. It will be a terrible thing if that is indeed the case. Hopefully, based off of the title of this episode, The 100 will manage to make some sort of phoenix-esque ressurection. But for now, I don’t know if they have enough time to truly tell the story that Rothenberg wants to.

The 100 airs Wednesdays at 8/7c on The CW

Aprille’s episode rating: 🐝🐝

#The 100 #From the Ashes

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perkdistrict · 4 years ago

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Get more followers on Facebook in 2020

Easy steps to get 10000+ Auto followers on Facebook

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READ ALSO: How to make money on Tik Tok in 2020

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JARVEE will help you interact with your audience with a powerful set of Facebook automation tool. These tools are specially designed to plan, manage and analyze all your social interactions. If you’re into Facebook marketing JARVEE is the tool for you. It will grow your business with real Facebook followers.

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paladin-lynx · 5 years ago

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Human SQUIPtober 2019, Day 5: Dance

Human SQUIPtober 2019 Day 5: Dance

Ships Involved: StageDorks (Jeremy x Christine)

Setting: Post-musical AU where the SQUIP somehow returned as a human and was redeemed/rehabilitated by Jeremy (with the help of the rest of the squad), and lived with him having nowhere else to go. He looks pretty similar to how he looked in Jeremy’s head, and physically he looks to be around college age.

Trigger/Content Warnings: None

Author’s Notes: So I didn’t know this was a thing until yesterday, so I didn’t get to make anything for the first few days of Human SQUIPtober. I may go back and come up with a little something for those days if I get the chance (I’m a little bummed I missed Day 4 because I adore BMC Superpowered AUs). I can’t draw, so I’ll offer my writing instead! I’ll try to explore a slew of settings, ships, and themes for the days I get to participate in. Also, I’ve been in somewhat of a writing slump lately, so apologies if my writing isn’t up to standard. I hope you enjoy!

Squip had a few running theories about how and why he’d been brought back as a human. SQUIPs themselves had limited information on where exactly they came from, seeing as there was always a bit of bleed between their data and their hosts’ and it was too risky to have too much that could cross between them, so Squip had absolutely no idea if something like this had ever happened before. It wasn’t like he had his databanks to fall back on anymore, although he had retained a good amount of the knowledge he had from his time in Jeremy’s head. Granted, his now-human brain could only contain so much without making the facts a bit fuzzy.

He hypothesized that how much power he’d gained from syncing with so many other SQUIPs combined with the fact that Jeremy himself hadn’t been the one to drink the Mountain Dew Red, and perhaps the possibility of him having been a defective pill – seeing as he’d broken the protocol of serving his host in order to pursue a higher purpose – could have mixed together to reactivate him. He wasn’t sure the rest of Jeremy’s friend group’s SQUIPs were strong enough to have managed something similar.

But the sudden gain of an actual human body? That was the one part he couldn’t wrap his head around. He wasn’t sure it was worth agonizing over.

The more sentimental part of him – because, for God’s sake, he had one of those now – wondered if perhaps there were supernatural forces at work that wanted him to feel karma. Jeremy had gone through a careful procedure in the hospital to have his SQUIP removed, since it had still muttered and criticized him even after everything, although its voice had been nothing more than a hiss in the back of his head, and that was the last thing Squip had remembered. He’d begged Jeremy one more time to keep him, and then there was nothing. Before there was suddenly everything.

First waking up as a human hadn’t exactly been easy. He guessed the surgeons had merely tossed the SQUIP out in the garbage, assuming it’d be destroyed eventually since they still didn’t have a solid idea on what it even was, so when he suddenly came to, it was a very unpleasant awakening in the Beth Israel dumpster. Everything had hit him at once: the putrid smell of the waste, the disgusting texture, the burning in his eyes, the confusion rattling his mind. He was feeling, and after having been a supercomputer above simple human functions like the basic senses and emotions, it was too overwhelming. He’d ended up blacking out again almost as soon as he’d woken up.

Then, through a convoluted series of events that involved him being taken into the hospital and having to sweet-talk his way out – even with the nervousness that perhaps he’d inherited from Jeremy, it appeared he still had his charisma at the very least – he’d ended up seeking out Jeremy. He needed to get a grip, but he honestly had next to no idea what he was doing. Sure, he had all of the information in his head about what it meant to be human and what he needed to do in order to stay alive, but that was a lot different than suddenly experiencing everything for real.

More than suddenly being able to physically feel and smell and the like, what was most disconcerting was the menagerie of voices snapping at him in his head. There seemed to be two sides: the first were growling at him: “look how far you’ve fallen”, “you used to be incredible, now look at you”, “how pathetic, coming back to life only to be like this”. Then there was the other side: “do you understand the weight of what you’ve done?”, “you’re a monster, all you ever did was hurt people”, “the only reason you’ve come back is so that you can suffer the consequences of your actions.” It had him feeling so terribly small, doing everything he could to tune out the venomous thoughts. What was it that Jeremy had always said to ward him off? Loudest one is mine? That wasn’t particularly helpful when he knew that all of those voices were his.

Jeremy, of course, had been more than wary at first about helping Squip. He’d actually initially slammed the door in his face before seeing that Squip appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack on his doorstep, and he’d caved and ushered him into the house. He’d talked him down and gotten the story out of him, and reluctantly agreed to let him crash there for the time being.

Since then, Squip had improved immensely. He still had some old habits that stuck, of course. He was very blunt with his opinions, although he was working on that, since he’d unintentionally upset some of Jeremy’s friends with his comments. He was a perfectionist in every sense, a stickler for organization and cleanliness. He was, unsurprisingly, a tech junkie and interested in absorbing as much information as he could. He sometimes slipped into Japanese without realizing when speaking, since he found it easier to process things in what was technically his mother tongue.

The weight of his guilt always sat heavy on his shoulders, but he knew that the most he could do now was try and make up for what he’d done. It was in a SQUIP’s nature to serve and assist, and so he was always lending a hand. He’d become something of an elder brother to the squad, especially when it came to Jeremy. He was still protective over the boy as if he were still his host, and while Jeremy seemed to appreciate the attention most of the time now that he was used to it, there were plenty of times he had to tell Squip to back off and give him space to figure things out on his own. Michael had teased Squip for being as nosy as Jenna Rolan, which Squip still couldn’t decide if that was true or not. Or if he should be insulted or not.

Even with the intense remorse, though, Squip was learning to love being human. He was starting to find himself and distance himself from the cold, heartless machine he’d once been. One of the things he’d discovered he loved was music. Granted, he was sure he’d probably liked it before. SQUIPs were learning computers, after all, and he remembered observing everyone dancing at the Halloween party and deciding to jump in and analyze how the teenagers were having fun. And, perhaps somewhere deep in his code, he’d decided he was having fun, as well. Nowadays, Jeremy still sometimes made fun of him for the handful of times he’d caught Squip in the middle of his chores, playing music and swaying along to the beat, sometimes even humming or singing. Jeremy wouldn’t admit it, but Squip knew that he silently thought Squip had a nice voice, as well. It didn’t have quite as much of a surfer lilt as before, but it was still quite similar to how he’d sounded while in Jeremy’s mind.

Jeremy wasn’t much of a dancer, but Christine was. Now that they were dating – Squip sometimes felt even guiltier for being happy that, even after all the awful events, the pair had actually gotten together and were still in a healthy relationship – it wasn’t unusual for Christine to drag Jeremy into her antics. But the boy was so taken with her that he probably would’ve gone along with her if she’d asked him to rob a bank. Squip often ruffled Jeremy’s hair and teased him for how smitten he was, to which Jeremy’s face would flush and he would just swat him away while half-heartedly protesting.

Whenever Christine came over, Squip tended to hide away in his room. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to see Christine – everyone of course had been concerned at first about accepting him, but they’d mostly accepted him by now, seeing as he was rather harmless as just a boring old human and honestly it was amusing to them to see him learning how to be a functional person – but because he wanted to give the couple their privacy. While there was nothing scandalous happening, Squip knew that there were multiple occasions they’d ended up making out on the couch or just in general be lovey-dovey in that way only high school sweethearts could. In any case, he didn’t want to third wheel, although Michael seemed more than happy to take that role and hang out with Jeremy and Christine when the were together. Squip guessed that Michael often took the opportunity to embarrass Jeremy in front of Christine. You got a lot of dirt on someone if you were their closest friend for nearly thirteen years. You got equally as much dirt having lived in their brain for a few months, but Squip usually only poked fun at Jeremy when it was just the two of them in the house.

Today was one of the days Squip locked himself away so Jeremy and Christine could have their alone time. At some point, he heard the front door open then slam shut and he guessed that Michael had come to join. Maybe they would once again try to recruit Christine as their Player 3 to get through The Cafetorium, which they still couldn’t seem to beat. Squip had offered to help, but Jeremy had protested that Squip would give them an unfair advantage since he’d once been a piece of technology and that they needed to do it the human way. It was a bit silly, but Squip didn’t press the matter. He wondered if they’d ever get past the level. He supposed they’d have to eventually, after enough tries.

Christine normally came over for a few hours, or sometimes she’d stay the night and Squip could sneak out of his room once they’d settled in Jeremy’s– he’d been gifted the Heeres’ guest bedroom, as well as an old laptop and phone that Mr. Heere had managed to buy for cheap from his office – but normally, he just stayed holed up, only coming out if he needed to use the bathroom or if he felt like he was needed for a specific reason.

Squip was still learning how to tend to his basic needs like eating and sleeping – sleeping was hit-or-miss most nights, since either he was kept up by insomnia or kept restless with nightmares reminding him of what he’d once been – so he had set alarms on his phone to keep himself in check. He nearly jumped as his alarm reminding him to eat lunch went off and he scrambled to turn it off, frowning. Christine was over a little earlier than usual, but Squip didn’t really want to interrupt the trio downstairs by making himself food, even if he could just bring it back up to his room, although he’d rather eat in the kitchen. However, he knew that if he waited for Christine and maybe Michael, as well, to leave, he’d go without food for quite a while. So, with a sigh, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and opened the door.

He had expected to be met with the sounds of zombie groans and gunshots. What he hadn’t expected was to instead hear Hall & Oates blasting from the living room.

“What I want, you’ve got, and it might be hard to handle—”

Raising an eyebrow, Squip slowly made his way down the stairs, peeking over the railing towards the living room, and he blinked in surprise.

They were streaming music from the TV, and there was Christine on the couch, giggling loudly. And there was Michael, standing and grinning, taking Jeremy’s hand and twirling him along to the music while Jeremy, flushed in the face, laughed and let himself spin. Once Jeremy was facing Michael again, Michael took both his hands and moved in perfect rhythm – he loved his music, after all, especially his oldies that he’d dragged Jeremy down with him into – with the song.

“But like the flame that burns the candle, the candle feeds the flame, yeah yeah—”

It was only a moment before Christine kicked her legs in excitement and burst with that energy everyone knew her for, jumping up and cutting in so that all three were holding hands and just moving back and forth in an uncoordinated dance. Squip couldn’t help thinking of the memories he’d glimpsed of Jeremy’s Bar Mitzvah party, music blaring in a ballroom while teens and adults alike tried to figure out how to dance along on the shiny dancefloor under flashing lights. Michael had grabbed Jeremy back then just like he did now.

“You make my dreams come true!”

Squip found himself breaking into a fond smile as he watched. The three of them looked ridiculous, just dancing in the middle of the living room, almost bumping into the coffee table more than once, but they were having fun. Squip found that that was part of the human experience. Things didn’t have to have a purpose; people found joy in the most trivial of things, whether it was feeling the breeze tousling your hair on a summer day or deciding you wanted to break out into song and dance for no reason at all. Humans didn’t have to analyze and foresee plausible futures. They just acted. Of course, that often landed them in trouble, but other times they just threw caution to the wind in order to have a good time.

Deciding that the trio was distracted enough, Squip made his way down the rest of the staircase, attempting to keep his footfalls light, but of course the house decided to work against him and one of the last stairs creaked loudly. Swearing under his breath, he turned to see that the dancing had stopped and all three teenagers were gazing at him. He felt heat rise to his cheeks.

“I’ll only be a moment, I just wanted to grab something to eat,” he nearly mumbled, hurriedly making his way down the rest of the stairs so he could shuffle past. However, he froze when he felt something grab his sleeve and he turned with slightly widened eyes to see Michael grinning at him.

“C’mon, S, join us,” he insisted. Out of all of the squad, Michael was the last person Squip had expected to accept him. But Michael seemed so taken by the idea of a computer becoming a person that he no longer viewed Squip as a threat. Besides, as soon as Jeremy had warmed up to him, it was basically inevitable that Michael would, too.

Squip’s brow creased at Michael’s words. “Join you?” he echoed. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your, er…whatever it is you’re doing. Little dance party.”

He peeked up to see that Jeremy and Christine had already resumed dancing, Christine looping her arms around Jeremy’s neck while Jeremy lightly had his hands on her hips. Squip was convinced that Jeremy spent 85% of his time around Christine with a blush on his face. Despite the fact that they’d been dating for quite a while now, Jeremy still seemed so surprised that he’d actually gotten the girl he’d been pining after since freshman year.

“On a night when bad dreams become a screamer, when they're messin’ with a dreamer, I can laugh it in the face—”

“You’re not intruding, I literally invited you, dude,” Michael huffed, pulling Squip towards the living room, causing Squip to stumble a step as he was forced to follow. He scrambled for a response. He felt like he shouldn’t be doing this, despite the fact that Michael was right and they’d quite literally requested he dance with them. But it still felt like he was interrupting. He couldn’t help loathing how feelings often contradicted one another or just happened out of nowhere.

“Michael—” he tried, only to get cut off by Jeremy snickering. The other boy was giving him a half-smirk.

“I think you’re just nervous because you can’t dance,” he teased.

Despite how far he’d come, sometimes Squip’s pride still got the better of him. And he knew Jeremy knew that. The boy was obviously goading him on.

And, like a stupid human, Squip fell right for the bait.

He pulled away from Michael and separated Jeremy and Christine – making sure not to shove them in the process – and wrapped an arm around Jeremy’s waist. The color in Jeremy’s already flushed cheeks only darkened as Squip dipped him down, giving him a crooked grin.

“You should know better than to challenge me, Jeremy. After all, I’m the one who taught you how to dance.”

“Geez, take a joke sometime,” Jeremy muttered, although there was no bite to his voice and Squip could see him fighting a smile as he pushed on Squip’s chest, getting the other to lean up so they were standing straight again.

“You make my dreams come true! Oh yeah!”

Laughing, Squip gave in and joined in the impromptu little dance circle. He swept across the living room with Christine, stepped in time with Michael, and even joined Jeremy in his awkward shimmying. When Michael and Christine started singing, he found himself joining in and soon enough Jeremy was, too. A few songs went by before their hands were interlocked and they were simply moving back and forth like the trio had been doing on their own before.

Squip felt a warmth in his chest that he recognized as affection for his dance partners, and he just felt light as air as all four of them made idiots of themselves. Being human could be so frustrating, confusing, overwhelming, and just terrible a lot of the time. There was so much to process, especially for him when he had never experienced any of these things before.

But at times like these, he couldn’t be more grateful that he’d been given the chance to come back and just love life. It reminded him that, even with the karma he was facing, it didn’t have to be all that bad.

#Human Squiptober 2019 #Be More Chill #BMC SQUIP #BMC Jeremy #BMC Michael #BMC Christine #StageDorks #i'm sorry this is kinda shitty #i banged it out in like a couple of hours just because i wanted an excuse to write something lol #i hope it's okay!#Jeremy Heere #Michael Mell #Christine Canigula #writing #mine #BMC #SQUIPtober #lynx tales

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renardtrickster · 5 years ago

Note

I am going to kill you and ask you to do every number on that ask post

You devious yet cute bastard, I’m in.

1. What is you middle name?

Personal information so I’m not divulging it, but it abbreviates to X.

2. How old are you?

Legal.

3. When is your birthday?

September 26.

4. What is your zodiac sign?

Libra/The Scales/The Dragon/Terepy

5. What is your favorite color?

Dark Green. #127712 specifically.

6. What’s your lucky number?

I think 2? I do like 12 though.

7. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore. I used to have two dogs though.

8. Where are you from?

Florida. I came out of the swamps.

9. How tall are you?

5′10″

10. What shoe size are you?

28cm, Women’s 11.5, Men’s 9.5, that’s what my sneakers say.

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Two. A pair of loafers so broken down I avoid wearing them whenever possible, and a pair of fine sneakers.

12. What was your last dream about?

All I remember is that Duff McWhalen’s theme song was playing throughout it and it was really annoying after a while.

13. What talents do you have?

I would say my talents are acute memory of obscure topics, vivid storytelling, and I’m pretty good at video games.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

It doesn’t happen with much frequency nowadays, but when I was younger and it happened a bit more often, I could always tell when I was being observed with no other clues. I could feel the eyes on my back. I can also bend spoons and set fires with my mind but that’s less interesting.

15. Favorite song?

More like favorite song right now, but probably Rocket Surgeon.

16. Favorite movie?

The Persona 3 movies currently.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Off of the top of my head, I’m imagining someone who’s heart-throbbing to look at (pretty women or cute boys), pretty sharp, tough to boot, has a lot in common with me, and is understanding too. I’ve got a few quirks, and it’d be nice to know that I’m not condemned to dying alone because of them.

18. Do you want children?

Not in the slightest.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

I don’t even want a wedding wedding. If we’re partners, isn’t being together enough? From what I know, weddings just add unnecessary stress and complication.

20. Are you religious?

I’m definitely spiritual, and Religion connected to that, even if I don’t devote myself to a specific doctrine. It’s less pantheism and more “they’re probably all true to an extent and also SMT is real”. In any case I just try to be a good person.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

As a patient, none that I could remember but I know I went because of various injuries. As a visitor, quite a few times.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law?

I’ve done things that would get me in trouble with the law, but have not run afoul of them yet. The closest would be that one time I was staying at a hotel, and the police knocked on my door and asked if I knew where someone was living. I didn’t, but I guessed anyway, and that’s how half the hotel had the police knocking on their door.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

No.

24. Baths or showers?

Showers.

25. What color socks are you wearing?

White with grey soles.

26. Have you ever been famous?

I have a lot of followers on this tumblr blog, would that count?

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

I want to be a famous author, so kind of. But I want to still retain my anonymity and not have my real name and face attached to stuff. Yoko Taro gives me hope in that regard, because he’s rather famous but any information we know about him, we know on his terms. That’s how I want to live.

28. What type of music do you like?

I usually listen to video game OSTs, and most of the ones I listen to are so genre-blending so it’s hard to pin down. Most of it is instrumental, but I’m not opposed to music with vocals. Genres aren’t cohesive, so I’d say “music that makes you want to punch robots to” and “music that makes you want to talk to friends to”. J-rap is pretty good though.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Hell no!

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

One.

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

I toss and turn before going to sleep and while asleep, but my back seems to be consistent.

32. How big is your house?

It’s pretty decent. 2 room 1 bath, and the living room is rectangular.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Milk & cereal, or pop-tarts.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

No, but I want to.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

I think once in grade school. I wish I could try again though.

36. Favorite clean word?

Cerebral just off the top of my head.

37. Favorite swear word?

Bastard or Shit. The former is innately funny and all-purpose to refer to someone. The latter is so versatile it can be used in any context.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

I think a day, although the standard is around 18.

39. Do you have any scars?

I don’t think so.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

I think there was one person in school who had a thing for me but they were gay and at the time I thought I was straight, so I paid them no mind. There was also someone who said “X likes you”, but I didn’t know who X was so I said “cool” and went on my way. I was also propositioned once in middle school, but that’s less “secret admirer” and more “sexual harasser”.

41. Are you a good liar?

I think so.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

For good people, yes. For bad people, no.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

Yeah. I remember playing Undertale and my little sister was nearby, and I decided to voice all the characters. I had a lot of fun!

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I’m actually the only member of my family that doesn’t have a Boston accent.

45. What is your favorite accent?

Russian, hands-down.

46. What is your personality type?

According the the Myers-Briggs test I just took, ISFP-T/Adventurer. Which is bizarre considering I’m pretty sure I got a different result a year or so ago. According to “what word would you use”, droll.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

I have no idea. Either those sneakers, or the heavy winter jacket I got when I was in Colorado. Both were gifts, so I never saw the pricetag, but my Dad said they were pretty nice-looking.

48. Can you curl your tongue?

Yeth.

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

Inside.

50. Left or right handed?

Left.

51. Are you scared of spiders?

My knowledge of spiders is well enough that I know at least 2 types of spiders who can kill you horribly in one bite, and know little enough that I can’t tell any of them apart from common house spiders. I’m more afraid of dying stupidly because the boner spider snuck up on me than the idea of spiders themselves.

52. Favorite food?

Either Macaroni & Cheese or Cheeseburgers.

53. Favorite foreign food?

Burritos probably, even though I usually only eat meat and cheese on them. Are you detecting a theme because I am.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I try to be clean, but I’m usually a bit scattered.

55. Most used phrased?

“says something about”, “despite that” are some. Although I know I tend to use a few stock phrases When I Post Long.

56. Most used word?

I wouldn’t even know where to begin finding that out.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

Maybe a few minutes, although I’m usually working on a set routine.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I don’t think I do. If I do, I tend to exaggerate it or turn it to a positive end.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

No matter how hard I want to keep it at sucking, I usually bite at some point. Don’t screencap this.

60. Do you talk to yourself?

Yes.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

No.

62. Are you a good singer?

Also no.

63. Biggest Fear?

Most if not all of my friends, and the people I admire as well, all either start hating me or end up hating me and I lose every social connection I have or want to have. The reason varies, whether it be my fault or someone slandering me, but being hated by people I like freaks me out. As does the idea of not being able to tell my stories.

64. Are you a gossip?

I’d like to say no but considering I rather frequently discuss discourse in my Discord chats, I guess I am.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

I do not watch drama films.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

On myself, long-to-middle length. On others, any length really.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America?

Probably not.

68. Favorite school subject?

Social studies was a strong suit of mine.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

Introvert.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

No.

71. What makes you nervous?

Time passing and things not getting done.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

No. The things in the dark can eat it too.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Yes, but I try to be kind about it. Or funny.

74. Are you ticklish?

I haven’t been tickled recently, so I wouldn’t know.

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

No. At worst, I’ve spread information I don’t think is 100% accurate, but I ALWAYS disclaim that it shouldn’t be trusted without further research.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

I’m an older sibling, so yes.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

No.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

No, but I was offered twice. Once by an irresponsible (and awful) authority figure, once by some kids in the bathroom. Both times I said “no thanks”, and funny enough the former tried to change my mind, and the latter just said “ok cool”.

79. Who was your first real crush?

Oh god here come the bad memories. I’m heavily abbreviating and redacting information to protect the identities of me and all involved, but in Colorado I met someone in middle school who more or less fit all my parameters for “ideal partner”. But I was terminally nervous and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, so I left it at that. Eventually I had to abruptly leave the state for reasons I don’t want to get into, and all a week or so later I made a Facebook account and found all my friends. My contact with my crush was the most constant. Eventually, I was talking with a different buddy, and they mentioned romantic problems. I mentioned I had some too, and they eventually ferreted it out of me. They told me I should confess, and I said no, both because I want to remain friends, and because I can’t do a long-distance relationship. They told me they’d go behind my back if I didn’t, and I warned them not to. Five minutes later, I get messaged by my crush. To put it short, it wouldn’t work out. I stopped talking to both, and was pretty depressed afterwards, to the point where I couldn’t feel any romance, sexuality, or companionship towards anybody. I got over it sometime later, and I think I realized I was bi around the same time. I kind of wish I could smooth things over, but it’s been so long I don’t think it’s an option anymore. Plus Facebook has a horrible interface and is terrible so I really don’t want to.

80. How many piercings do you have?

Zero.

81. Can you roll your Rs?“

No.

82. How fast can you type?

VERY.

83. How fast can you run?

Also VERY.

84. What color is your hair?

Dark.

85. What color is your eyes?

I looked in a mirror for a minute. I think it’s either grey, green, or brown?

86. What are you allergic to?

Pollen and bullets.

87. Do you keep a journal?

No.

88. What do your parents do?

My Dad makes food at the mall.

89. Do you like your age?

I wish I had all the benefits of adulthood but was still 17.

90. What makes you angry?

People acting stupid when they should know better, things not working when they should, and things going wrong when they shouldn’t. While not my intention in answering this question, this site has all three :^)

91. Do you like your own name?

My given name is pretty okay. I really like Renardie though.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I am not having children.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

Three times I have said I’m not having children.

94. What are you strengths?

Imagination, expression, intellect, and pluck.

95. What are your weaknesses?

Procrastination, anxiety, and obsession.

96. How did you get your name?

For my given name, I’ll keep it brief for privacy’s sake, but my parents are comic book nerds. For Renardie, I’m simply a fan of Reynard the Fox.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

My Dad’s a King in the figurative sense, does that count?

98. Do you have any scars?

This is a repeat question. Someone get OP’s ass.

99. Color of your bedspread?

Off-color baby blue.

100. Color of your room?

White.

#renardie taking questions #oh no renardie is posting

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 5 years ago

Text

Caught Up In You

Chapter 1 - Hop To It

Summary: A story revolving around a group of teenage friends, their mishaps, their relationships and their coming of age.

Watch as they navigate through the highs & lows of high school relationships and learn to grow up as most of them are approaching the end of their Senior year.

Ships: SamBucky, ThorBruce, Stony, ValJane...(More ships & characters to come)

Word Count: 9,774

{Tuesday Night}

“-Stop screaming and turn left at the light.” Tony mumbled miserably in the passengers seat of his fathers car. He was trying desperately to sink into the material of the seat and ignore the horrid expression on his fathers face. It helped to rub his palm harder into his eyes, it earned him the fuzzy kind of vision that usually only got when he was drunk. The different kind of streetlights bled together and he could almost pretend he was in any other situation.

“I’m not screaming. Trust me, you’d know the difference if I was-”

His father paused just time to catch Tony mouthing those words along with him in a mocking gesture.

He did one of those half-chuckles of disappointment and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Tony wanted nothing more than to escape the scene entirely. It wasn’t fun to admit but he was highly embarrassed and angry with himself just the same as he was pissed at him. He shuffled in his chair and lifted his legs to tuck them under his body. His knees hit the door with a loud thump which sounded eerily close to an angry reaction and maybe it was. For a few painful seconds, it made the air even more awkward.

That was a common thread pulled between them. Most of their fights now consisted of long, horrid silences that would only break when Tony decided he wanted to really make a scene. Sometimes it was on purpose and other times... a little more subconscious.

“Don’t make this into a fit, Tony.”

“I’m eighteen, Dad.” He spit. “I’m not having a fucking fit.” He dug into the bag at his feet and pulled it onto his lap. Logically, he could get out of the car so much faster if he could gather all of his crap ahead of the parking lot cruise.

“You sure about that? Because to me, it looks as if my seventeen year old is pouting in my car even though he damn well could be driving his own car if he-”

Tony leaned over and turned the radio back to F.M. to avoid conversation even further and block out whatever shit he was gonna say next.

The car rolled to a complete stop at the next red-light. Tony’s head thumped softly against the headrest, nails dragging painfully hard into his lip.

“You always said The cards would never do you wrong The trick you said Was never play the game too long...”

“I work Tony. This is a huge waste of my time-” He glanced at his son and waved a spare hand off the wheel, Tony ached to slap it.

“Eyes on the road, dad. If we get into a car accident, that’d be on your head.” Tony pursed his lips and chuckled a little as he curled his body forward. “What would your co-workers think, huh?” He put on a scandalized voice and felt a little proud when his dad gripped the wheel harder.

“-And you're still the same I caught up with you yesterday Moving game to game No one standing in your way...”

“You’re such a smart-mouth brat, Tony.” He scowled and Tony moved his eyes back towards his window.

“Wonder where I get that from...” He rolled his eyes.

“I want you out of my car right now.” He heard his father mumble mostly to himself but he couldn’t help but notice they’d slowly turned onto a quiet side-street. There weren’t many passing vehicles and an open sidewalk wasn’t far from his view.

“Fine.” Tony reached out and grabbed the passenger door handle and cracked it back, sending the thing flying outwards. He attempted to unbuckle but there wasn’t much more he could do to escape after his father swung his arm over his body and reached for the door handle.

The car swerved but luckily the road was completely empty. The tires skidded, wind blew heavily and for a moment Tony thought he might actually fall out. But the car door banged closed next to him and made him jump as he recovered from sensory overload.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His father screamed as soon as he centered the car and pulled into the Theater parking lot.

“There you stood Everybody watched you play I just turned and walked away I had nothing left to say...”

Tony swallowed and collected his bag. “That’s a load question, pop.” He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth and nodded. “See ya afterwards.” He gestured to the doors and didn’t stay to hear anymore.

Tony fell out of the car and hightailed it inside, hoping he wasn’t edging it too close to late.

He pushed the heavy doors and slid the stupid visor onto his head. The neon lights buzzed as he steadied his hands and regained his way of walking with purpose. He held firmly onto that argument though. There was no way that was leaving his mind anytime soon.

The red concession stand counter glittered under the burning neon and he kept his eyes centered there just in case boss-man was around.

He punched in, took a moment or two to calm down and went to his station.

“Hey Tony, I re-stacked the candy tree thing cause some guy fell on it earlier which was amazing, you should’ve seen it-” His co-worker had a habit of appearing out of nowhere and scaring the absolute shit out of him. But he was slowly getting used to it. He leaned over to put his forearms on the counter and look right at Tony. “You havin’ a bad day or something?”

Tony smacked his palms down onto the glossy counter and sighed. “Yeah. You could say that. Old man took my car away so I had to put up with his...” he gestured his hand out and let it fall “crap the whole way here.”

“Well, I know something that’s gonna make you feel better.” He grinned and his grins were always unsettling.

“What’s that, Bucky?” Tony mumbled, not that interested as he went to work on refilling some of the popcorn.

Bucky merely tapped him on the shoulder and he glanced up just in time to see Steve Rogers strolling in, ticket in hand like always. The tiny red stub stuck out from his clutched fist and Bucky knew it was because Steve would lose it otherwise.

Natasha strolled in at his side and threw a knowing smirk Bucky’s way.

Tony’s expression suddenly changed from dim to flirty in a matter of seconds, he was good at that. “Steve Rogers. What chick-flick are you seeing today?” he smirked and went through the motions of preparing Steve’s usual order.

Steve opened his mouth to answer but had to take a quick glance at his ticket to actually provide an answer. Natasha beat him to it anyway, maybe to save some embarrassment

“Some spy movie.” she shrugged, taking the candy Bucky handed from over Tony’s shoulder. Steve wasn’t the only one who came in quite often though he was the most painfully obvious. “Steve here is really into the tight outfits.” She tilted her chin towards him and that earned her a gentle shove of his elbow and a blush.

Tony ate that shit right up. “Kinky.” He threw him a wink and did the tiniest of hair flips that he could manage. His hair was getting pretty long and he had to admit to himself, it was really working for him.

Steve took the bag of popcorn and tried hard not to keep eye contact, he was far too embarrassed now. “See ya after the movie, Tony.”

He started to walk off, Natasha following close behind.

“Steve!” Tony basically skipped over to the other side of the circular counter with the happiest of smirks. “Please try to keep the excitement about the outfits in your pants. Some of us have to clean up that theater when the credits roll.” He tilted his chin up and swiped his tongue across his bottom lip at the last word.

Steve nearly slid on the smooth floor and his blush couldn’t get any deeper as he quickly sped off to the sound of Nat’s laughter.

Tony lingered in that happy state for a few seconds, still on his tip-toes and his palms flat on the glitter again. But soon after the two disappeared into the theater hall, he fell back onto his flat shoes.

“That cheer you up?” Bucky grinned, shoving some popcorn into his mouth and Tony rolled his eyes.

He threw his hands up in ‘I don’t even know’ kinda way and went back towards the cash register.

“You don’t get it yet, do you?” His annoying friends voice came again while Tony thumbed through a magazine he kept under his customers eye-line.

“Get what?” He asked, not interested at all. Smug Bastard was such a know-it-all. Bucky could tell just by his tone that Tony didn’t find any value in what he was about to say. There was nothing the ‘Great Tony Stark’ didn’t already get. It only spurred Bucky on though.

“Steve.” He clicked his tongue. “The guy’s gotta a major crush on you.”

That got him. Tony spun around completely and leaned backwards on the ledge. “No he fucking doesn’t.” He growled, not finding this the least bit funny. Bucky was a jerk who loved to torture him but he was far from being in the mood for it. Especially not with a topic like that.

“Why do you think he comes in here like every day?” He gestured with his hand.

“To see movies. I don’t know.”

“Tony. I dare you to ask Steve anything about these movies that he’s been seeing. He literally doesn’t retain any information cause he doesn’t actually give a shit about them.” He pinched Tony’s arm and got a nice slap for it. “I’m his best friend, asshole. He tells me stuff.” He threw a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it with his mouth. “The only thing he gives a shit about is seeing the handsome brunette behind the counter...” He winked “Oh and his major crush.” he slapped Tony’s arm and walked past him.

“He doesn’t have feelings for me...Steve’s a total-” He took in a breath “Jock. I’m not even on his radar of people he could sleep with.” He shook his head and Bucky rolled his eyes this time.

“Believe it or not but Steve doesn’t get around as much as you think.” He chuckled. “And he’s got his eyes on you, idiot. And I know you got eyes for him.”

Tony seemed more insulted by the word ‘idiot’ than Bucky’s assumption. It was laughable and one of the many reasons Bucky was amused yet annoyed by the dude. “Shut your mouth and get to work.”

“You should take my advice and ask him out, Lord knows he won’t ask you. I landed an excellent fella so you can trust my advice.” He swirled the damp towel over the selection of stains littering the counter though it was hard to find them with the shadow of his stupid visor.

“Ah, your allusive boyfriend.” Tony mumbled.

“Don’t start with me, Stark.”

“All I’m saying is...” He turned to his long hair co-worker. “I’ve never seen him. For such a swell guy-” He mocked Bucky’s outdated language habit. “He doesn’t ever come to visit you or for a quickie in the bathroom?”

Bucky growled. “He comes when I’m working my Tony-free shift, I’ve told you. It works better for his schedule.”

“Ah, that’s when he comes.” Tony put a dirty emphasis on the word. “So what I’m hearing is that you did have a quickie in the bathroom?”

Bucky blushed and shoved past Tony to do some other odd job that didn’t really need to be done yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Wednesday Morning}

“-I told him to fuck off.”

“No you didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.” Bruce rubbed his hands together and followed Tony to his locker. His mind was still reeling from Tony’s dramatic story and he was desperately trying not to make it obvious that he was stealing long glances to the clocks.

“No. But the trying to jump outta the car stuff is true.” Tony pursed his lips together and dug out his books. Bruce fell against the metal lockers and sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “I didn’t get hurt, ok? But wouldn’t that have made him happy, huh?”

Bruce gently thumped his hand atop Tony’s which was curled around the locker door. “He doesn’t want that, Tony. You know that.” He swallowed. “So what exactly led to that fight?” he was almost afraid to ask and it didn’t help when Tony physically cringed.

“I went to a party, stayed past curfew...got drunk. The usual.” He shrugged like that was nothing and Bruce tried to remember that Tony didn’t respond well to rants about safety.

“And what else?” There was more, it was obvious.

Tony heaved a sigh and slammed the door closed when his Chemistry book slid free. “I came back home and...” he rubbed at his neck. “I was drunk so I was just saying shit to bother him cause he was yelling, right? Y’know I’m good at that.” the book slipped a little from his grip. “I told him that I was with some guys and I may have accidentally come out of the damn closet.”

Bruce frowned. Tony had been struggling with that idea for a while now.

“And he said he was taking my car away so I accused him of being homophobic as shit and that was the real reason he was punishing me.” Tony suddenly looked really pained. “But you should’ve seen his Goddamn face, Bruce. I was drunk and I still can’t get it out of my head. He was fumbling through an explanation about how wrong I was....” He shrugged and started walking down the hall again, Bruce following like a puppy.

“Tony, I’m sure he was just shocked.”

“Can you please just be on my side, Bruce?” Tony shook his head and Bruce sped up to his side.

“I am on your side.” He scowled, fumbling with his hands again. “I’m just trying to be logical about this.”

“No, you’re being hopeful. I know better cause he’s my dad. He wasn’t just shocked. He was pissed.” Tony growled and took off down the hall, leaving Bruce in the dust.

He stepped slowly to follow but looked up at the nearest clock.

“My brother is waiting for you in the library.”

“Jesus!” Bruce jumped in the air and nearly fell onto the glossy floor as he turned to face Loki. The greasy and terrifying man was smiling at him in that smirky way, hands behind his back.

"He asked me to come collect you. But it seems you were busy with whatever Tony was bitching about.” He gestured gently to the open space where Tony had been. Bruce would roll his eyes if he weren’t so afraid of the man. “Tsk, tsk, Banner. You should take this tutoring gig more seriously.”

And with that, Loki elegantly walked right past him. Just like any other time they’ve interacted (Which was like twice), Bruce took that time to shake his body free of the chills he’d acquired.

He quickly made his way to the library.

Thor was sitting atop one of the long tables in the library, legs curled into the criss-cross position to keep his book still. His pen dashed furiously across the paper as he attempted to finish the load of homework he’d completely forgotten about until this morning.

He glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of Bruce strolling in and his heart momentarily stopped. He was in no mood to get scolded today and if he could just finish the last two problems before he came over, he just might make the day without it. And if he was lucky enough, Bruce might beam at him again.

Last Thursday had been the best fucking day of Thor’s life. Valkyrie had switched lunches with him, Loki had managed to make it the full day without getting into trouble and Bruce had given him the biggest grin when he reported back with an B in Chemistry.

“Hey-”

“Bruce!” Thor happily greeted him, already scooting over to give him some room. Bruce awkwardly hopped onto the table next to him with much more hesitance.

“I told you, I don’t think we’re allowed to sit here-”

Thor shoved his pen behind his ear and showed off his work. He watched while Bruce momentarily forgot his hang-up and slipped his glasses on to look over the papers. “This is good work, Thor. You’ve really improved. I told you that it was only a matter of time.” Bruce pulled back and wiggled the book in front of him.

“Thanks...” Thor had come into this session with one goal and just because of one compliment, he was flustered into forgetting. He beamed back at Bruce and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t totally used to being on the other end of this. “But um...Y’know, I’m still struggling with uh-Math. So, I came back to the idea that it might be beneficial if I had the ability to contact you outside of school. Just to um, help y’know?”

Thor tried his best not to embarrass himself but was finding it mighty difficult with Bruce staring up at him like a little puppy.

“So, about that phone number-”

Bruce swallowed and started playing with his hands. “I told you, I don’t know about that.” He shrugged and faded that off with a nervous chuckle. But upon seeing the way Thor’s face fell, he rushed to explain again. “This isn’t because I don’t like you, Thor. It’s just...we’re good like this, right?” He pushed his glasses back up his nose and gestured at the books between them.

Thor nodded back, licking his lips. “Yes, of course we are.” He quickly put the smile back on his face and it wasn’t even a chore. Anytime he spent with Bruce was special to him. He wasn’t about to ruin that. He scooted closer and found that his buddy moved in as well, their laps now supporting the open Math book.

This was fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Valkyrie was having a pretty shitty day and the sight of a pouty looking Thor was going to be no help unless his problem was more interesting than her test crisis coming next period. She threw him a smile and leaned on her locker. “What’s the matter with you, big guy?” She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. Thor looked embarrassed which wasn’t such a common trait for him. “Is it Bruce again?”

He deflated. “No.”

“Convincing.” She shrugged and turned back to grab some of her junk, arm sliding painfully against some metal. “When are you going to tell him that you don’t actually need the tutoring?”

Thor shrugged and that was answer enough.

“How long have you known him Thor?”

Her friend paused and shifted on his feet. “Basically since first grade but we only sort of became closer friends during Sophomore year.”

She hummed. “I’ve only known him since the summer so I can’t give you much that you don’t already know, bud.” She shrugged. “But either he’s interested or he’s not...” She glanced over Thor’s shoulder as she thought on it. “I know Bruce is a little off-beat and...not the best at making decisions or voicing his entire opinion...and his crippling fear doesn’t help that....”

her tongue clicked and Thor jumped like a man half his size.

“Am I just freaking you out now?”

“No....”

She stared him down.

“Ok, a little bit-actually-yes you are. A lot.”

“Ooof.” Valkyrie smacked her palms together and slammed her locker door shut. “Maybe you shouldn’t come to me for advice then, huh?” She shook her head and began to try and walk off.

She’d met Bruce over the Summer just before the big Senior year. He’d been working at her favorite, favorite Diner in town. It was one of the few Drive-In places left and man oh man, the burgers. Valkyrie licked her lips.

Bruce new her order by heart within his first few days there and could have it whipped up in no-time if he knew she was coming. So she’d given him her phone number just for that purpose. Which, Bruce was incredibly reluctant and all twitchy about it until she clarified that she didn’t give a shit about anything other than just getting her burger a bit quicker.

Somehow, Bruce just became her good buddy and through him, she met Thor just a couple days before school started. He was one of the few guys in Bruce’s ‘group’ that he introduced to her because; ‘I think you’d get along great with him! You actually remind me a bit of him.’

“Wait!” Thor suddenly came up next to her again and it was her turn to jump.

“Shit, you scared the hell outta me!” She smacked his arm, hard. But Thor didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I forgot the good news!”

Disinterested again, she shoved one of her ear-buds into her ear and waited. “That scares me. What is it?”

“I set up a date for you-” He held up a gentle hand when she opened her mouth with a grunt. “I know, I know-that last one kinda suck BUT...” He flashed a very charming grin. “I know the perfect girl and I know you’ll love her. I’m really excited about it.” He patted her gently on the shoulder and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t smooth a little at that last part.

“What’s her name?”

“Jane. Jane Foster. She’s one of the smartest people I know and surprisingly strong-she slapped me this one time and it stung for like-”

“Why did she slap you?” Valkyrie raised a brow but was getting an idea of how Thor might know this girl.

“Well...” He scratched behind his neck and looked off at the posters behind her head. She kicked his shin. “Ow! Ok ok, she might be my ex-girlfriend.”

Valkyrie sped up but he only chased her down again.

“Wait! Valkyrie, trust me, Jane’s amazing. A good match for you, I think.” He waved his hand out and she shifted her weight to the other foot.

“You’re asking me to trust your taste in woman?”

Thor shrugged, puppy-dog eyes and all which had her blowing air between her gritted teeth.

“Fine. Send me the details, you big sap.” With a roll of her eyes, she finally took off for class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Friday Night}

“I think he had a fight with his old man or something. It doesn’t feel right to tell you this.” Bucky shook his head and stared at Tony from over Steve’s shoulder. The boy was curled over the ticket booth with the most miserable expression on his face. He’d had that same dead look since their last shift together on Tuesday. Plus, ticket service sucked so that probably wasn’t helping him any.

Steve hummed into his palm and slid a couple bucks over the counter for his usual movie snack. Bucky thumbed with it a little and danced his fingers across the green. “Do you think...?-” His friend trailed off and he tried not to roll his eyes but it was getting way too difficult these days when it came to this dramatic bullshit.

“That he likes you?” He whistled, throwing a red cup into the air. It flipped against the glaring yellow lights and landed perfectly in his hand. Cola spilled effortlessly from the machine and bounced a little of the lip of the cup, Bucky licked it off his finger. “Yeah. He does. And I know this because he’s so fucking obvious and basically told me so.”

Steve’s eyes lit up like they always did at the idea but there was no follow-through of belief. Just sadness. Damn.

“Well from what I gathered from you, Tony hates you.” Steve started and Bucky nodded.

“And I hate him too.” he snapped his fingers over his shoulder and shoveled popcorn with his spare.

“-So I doubt that he talks to you about feelings.”

“You’re right, he doesn’t. But-” He poked the tiny metal shovel into his friends cheek, giving him a impermanent dimple. “He doesn’t explicitly have to. It’s all on his face every-time you come in. Which, is so damn obvious too Steve, you have no idea.”

“If it’s so obvious than Tony must have picked up on it and he hasn’t made a move sooooo....”

“Now you’re just being difficult which I hate so...” He wiggled his hand out. “Go see your stupid movie.” He turned away only to have Steve reached out and pull him back.

“Has he said anything about me?”

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky would slap Steve if he wasn’t his best friend-’actually.’

Bucky reached out and gently slapped him. “Here, this shouldn’t be too difficult even for a punk like you.” He ignored the fake hurt puppy look and slammed a pen and napkin down onto the glittery counter. “Phone number goes there.” He pointed. “And you can slip it to him on your way to the movie room.”

Steve sighed and rubbed his palm down to his chin.

“Hop to it, soldier.” He winked and turned on his best friend.

There was some shuffling and lingering as far as Bucky could guess from his hearing. He heard the pen drag across the flaky napkin and then footsteps. For a moment, he let himself celebrate a victory.

He turned on his heels only to find the napkin still sitting on the counter. It was decorated with a small drawing of Bucky standing next to the popcorn machine which was overflowing, sending the snack everywhere. Little pieces of Steve’s hand-drawn popcorn fluff littered the paper and Bucky felt like a fool for believing Steve would actually go for it.

He scoffed and shoved the paper into his pocket before going back to work.

And he made it through about 17 flawless minutes of restocking the candy shelves when he felt Tony’s presence at the head of the counter. “Hey asshole. What do you want?” He mumbled, scooting a bit on the glossy floor so he could look at him.

Tony was slouching over the red strip of glittery hell, forearms pressing heavily into the counter and wearing a painfully obvious look of drowsiness. His visor was in his hand rather than burrowed somewhere in his flippy hair. That was Del Costa’s least favorite thing to see of his employees, not that either of them took that to heart. Del was a grumpy little old man with soft eyes for a few employees which just happened to include them.

“I’m gonna walk out the door, right now. I swear to God.” He rubbed his face and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“You go ahead and do that. Dare ya.” He scoffed and stood to continue his busy work. They were having an very slow Friday night and he blamed the shitty movies that were currently out. That and the fact that the place was tiny and not too far from a much larger theater that was in the next town over.

“I would and you know it.”

Bucky shrugged. “I honestly don’t care and it’d probably make my life a lot easier if you weren’t here so...” He waved his hand towards the double doors and gave him a smug smile and Tony immediately responded by throwing his visor at him. “Why are you so miserable anyway? It’d drag me down if I wasn’t in such a good mood.” He emphasized that just to rub it in a little before lifting Tony’s arms to swipe the cleaning rag under him.

He held Tony’s arms at the wrists and scrubbed the counter which didn’t even seem to bother him. Instead, Tony went completely boneless and allowed the action with ease. “What’s with that good mood anyway, Hot Topic? It’s freakin’ me out.” He wiggled his fingers and Bucky dropped his hands, they slammed down.

“I can’t just be in a good mood?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ve literally never seen you smile the entire time that I’ve known you, and you’ve done it at least ten times today.” Tony pursed his lips in thought.

“Get back to work before Mr. Costa sees you.” Bucky tipped his chin towards the incoming group of customers and Tony sighed dramatically.

“Whatever. I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.” He threw a wink and wandered off, the picture of misery. That was of course until he hit the half-way mark and turned on a flirty smile. If Tony was in the mood for it, he could really play the part of a happy worker well. Even if he was just about quit. Bucky could never even attempt that. Hiding his irritation was one of his weakest points these days.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, you weren’t at your post. Bucky said you were....” Steve paused mid-sentence as he came down the concrete steps. His index finger was lazily slipped into the small bag of popcorn which he had to admit was a bad idea.

His finger was greased, making his skin filmy and liable to have something slip through. When Tony flung his head his way, Steve suddenly plunged his finger deeper inside like the crisis of spilled popcorn was the most important thing in the world right now.

Tony was gripping his phone with such intensity that his fingers were curling over the screen and it almost looked as if he were trying to crush the damn thing. “Hey, something I can do for you?” he scratched behind his ear and looked frazzled. Which, in truth, wasn’t that uncommon.

The flashy lights from the gigantic sign were reflecting nicely into Tony’s warm brown eyes and Steve found himself frazzled now. Tony moved, coming to lean on the blue railing just a few steps down from him. This was the moment that he realized Tony had changed out of his work shirt and was sporting his regular work jeans but with a band t-shirt that was...-'For the love of all that is good and pure in this world, it’s cropped’ and in that lazy casual way that made him want to tilt his head for a better look.

‘Never seen that much of his skin before...God, was that a dumb thought’. Steve would kick himself if he weren’t standing right there. He’d never seen Tony in a get-up like that before. Not that he stereotyped him but Tony was quite the little...nerd.

“Chicks dig it.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows and Steve rolled his eyes out of habit. “I spilled-no, your friend ‘spilled’ a large soda on me like ten minutes before my shift ended.” He scowled, looking back towards the building over Steve’s shoulder. The retro blue and red lighting now framing his jawline. “So how was your movie?”

Tony topped that off with one of those closed mouth smiles that made Steve’s knees weak.

“Good, good.” he mumbled. “A little much but...that’s kinda what every movie is like these days.” The shrug rolled off his shoulders like 2nd nature.

“You don’t seem to be that picky these days. You come in just about every other day.” Tony chuckled and swiped his hand under his nose just as fast as the chill that passed through the air. “Your film of choice this time was one of those action flicks. The saucy criminal couple running from the cops and having the best sex of their lives....gotta love it.” His grin widened and Steve was far too nervous.

“Yeah. There was a surprising amount of layers to it though-”

Tony snorted but he ignored it.

“Really. The main girl, Natalie, had this whole side story-line about her broken family. It was actually done very well. There was this one scene that-” He felt a tangent coming on but was shortly interrupted by Tony shoving his hands into his pockets.

“You must’ve really enjoyed it then, huh? You gonna spare me the details?” The skin around the bridge of his nose crinkled with that snide comment.

Steve bit his lip, not sure what he’d said wrong.

“I forgot my jacket. But I’ll see ya next time?” He thumped Steve’s shoulder and jogged back into the theater, leaving him confused and with a lot to think about on his ride home.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“-I thought you said that he doesn’t really watch these movies?” Tony shot up, completely out of nowhere. Bucky would have jumped if he weren’t used to that shit.

Again with the eye-rolling but he couldn’t help it. “He doesn’t.”

“Well, he was basically spoiling the entire plot of this movie that he really seemed enthused about watching.” Tony shrugged, like he knew it was a stupid thing to complain about and was already embarrassed about it.

"His whole world isn’t about you, Tony. He just came out of the theater so of course he’s talking about it. Steve likes to share-and hey, where’s the rest of your shirt?” Bucky teased as he turned to find the guy’s midriff exposed more so than usual.

Tony looked less than impressed and turned away, eyes drifting towards the glass doors where he could spot Steve’s car driving off. A sigh escaped his lips and Bucky wanted to scream.

“Did I ruin that good mood?” he edged off into a new subject and Bucky would be glad for it if the new one didn’t involve himself.

“No.” Was all he intended to say but Tony very clearly wouldn’t be letting it go any time soon. He should have left around twenty minutes ago but here he was, leaning up against the counter like a patient customer. Damn, they needed more of those these days.

“Come on, tell Daddy what it is.” He wiggled his fingers for a few seconds and his shadow glazed over the counter.

“I hate that nickname.” He scowled. Tony had been using that for nearly his entire work career at the Horizon Theater and he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t slipped out of his mouth a few times just from hearing it so often. “And please leave before Mr. Costa kicks you out.”

Tony only gave him a pleading look.

“Fuck you.” He chuckled because although he was irritated, he’d been dying to tell someone about this all day. He licked his lips and turned his chin down to the counter to stare at the individual glitter pieces behind the glass. “Um...-” shoving some hair behind his ear, he tried not to get embarrassed. “My boyfriend told me he loved me today.” The tone he used was very clearly trying way too hard to come across as indifferent. But his heart was pounding when he thought about it again.

Tony stepped back, looking impressed. “Wow. Big step.” He nodded but added a small frown.

“Oh you’re jealous, huh?” Bucky was going to seize anything that would turn the attention off himself.

“Why would I be jealous of your imaginary relationship, Barnes?”

Bucky slapped his arm but before the fight could really start-

“Boys!”

They both jumped this time and from their far right, Mr. Costa strolled over with a large smile. He was a tiny old man who almost looked like he was being swallowed by the dark hallway. He opened his arms and slapped a hand onto Tony’s back. “Why are you still in my theater?”

“Well I was just-” He lifted his hand only to have Mr. Costa lower it for him.

“You’re off the clock, go home and leave my worker alone, huh?” He grinned with genuine cheer and Tony sighed but turned to leave.

But not without giving Bucky the finger and yelling a loud goodbye to both of them. Mr. Costa waved back and leaned his bent elbow on the counter. “So, how are we doing today?”

Bucky rolled his lips together. “Fairly well. Better than last Friday. It’s a real gas here tonight.” He tipped his chin to the small crowd of teens leaving theater 1.

He was rewarded with the nod of acceptance that Mr. Costa was the best at giving. Bucky took in the fact that he was making casual conversation. “Not here to bust my chops, huh sir? What’s your ulterior motive?” He asked, refilling the tiny cup of soda he was allowed.

“Bust my chops...” He repeated with a shake of his head. “That’s why I like ya, son. Talk just like me.” His hand swiped down his mouth and Bucky grinned. “You tell your little friends about that deal we’re offering soon-on the tickets?”

Bucky’s shoulders dropped just the slightest at Del’s soft tone. “Yeah-yeah I did, sir. I spread the word.” He took a long sip of the fizzy, burning pop. “I’m sure business will be booming soon.”

Del Costa nodded once more and gently laid a hand atop Bucky’s before he wandered off, mumbling to himself about the things he had to remember. As he headed over to where the ticket guys were, Bucky let out a long breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Monday Morning}

“I honestly just don’t get it.”

Loki quirked his brow from over Thor’s shoulder and if he wasn’t so happy that his brother was enjoying his company at school for the first time in ages, Thor might’ve shoved his elbow into his stomach.

What he actually did was groan as he turned to his locker once more.

“I’m just saying...that guy, really?” Loki pointed with his chin to where Bruce was chatting happily with Valkyrie. He seemed rather enthusiastic as he made some explosive gesture that almost had him fall backwards. He had such a habit of stumbling over his own feet...

Thor grinned impossibly wide. “Yes.”

“Why?-You know what actually never-mind-”

Though Loki had changed his mind and was already starting to walk off because he remembered exactly the type of person his brother was, Thor launched into it. “He’s the most...genuine person that I’ve ever known.” His voice turned small and earnest. “He always gives me the best advice, he’s so smart and.....”

Thor trailed off as Bruce made another gesture that had him bouncing like an excitable puppy. Instead of finishing his sentence, Thor just threw Loki another grin and happily bounded over to his friends.

Valkyrie smiled at the way Bruce perked up with the added company. “Hey, big guy.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Loki was lingering. Looking a little awkward as he hovered. “What’s up, moody?” She reached over to smack the dude’s arm.

Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t miss the way Thor’s lit up at the idea of him getting along with his little friend-group. He gave the girl a small smile though he wasn’t entirely sure he could pull off the friendly kind.

“I’m gonna grab my books from my locker-” Valkyrie tried to throw Loki a hint to make himself scarce as well so the two idiots might have a shot in explaining their feelings. But she wasn’t sure he’d care that much.

She was about to push past him when Bruce grabbed her arm excitedly. “Hey! Wait, you gotta tell Thor the good news!”

“Ooooh, what is it?”

‘Oh, if they only knew what she was trying to give them’. She frowned, letting her arms fall limply in front of her as she reluctantly turned. “It’s nothing. Now if you don’t mind-wait a minute-I don’t care if you mind. I’m leaving-”

Valkyrie tried to escape again only to have Thor reach out for arm again.

“Oh come on, you have to tell me now.” Thor demanded and she decided she might as well give up.

Valkyrie turned and gave Bruce a heated glare before she spoke again. “I had my date with Jane on Friday-”

Thor lit up. “Oh yes, yes. How did it go?” He gently pat her arms.

She must’ve accidentally let a smile through there because Thor looked positively excited as he shook her arms. “Good. Great-” She rolled her eyes when the blonde lit up again. “It was fine. Now I’m gonna go-”

“Wait! Tell him the best part!” Bruce slapped her arm lightly.

She sighed and collected herself to look at Thor’s happy little face. “We’ve got a second date-But, don’t let this go to your head. I don’t want you thinking you’re the perfect matchmaker.” She shook her finger in his face.

“But I so obviously am the best.” Thor dropped her arms and spread his own out with a wide grin. She tried not to laugh at the way Loki stepped back to avoid getting hit like it was second nature to him. “I told you that Jane was great for you!”

Valkyrie pursed her lips. “Uh-huh, you also set me up on four other dates that were...” She wiggled her palm “Not the best.”

“Well, I was just excited.” He shrugged. “Fifth times a charm, huh?” He reached out once more but she only threw him one last smirk before taking off down the hall. She may or may not be on her way to find Jane’s locker.

Once she was off, Loki decided that he was done as well and glided away with that elegance of his.

The air softened from the noisy laughs of their classmates nearby and was suddenly very quiet. Thor spun on his heels to face his much tinier friend but found himself (yet again) extremely and uncommonly nervous. Bruce, though small and nowhere near intimidating, could send him into such a dazed state.

The light above Mr. Hammonds English class door was flickering as it always would. It shined in Bruce’s eyes each time it caught on again.

“What-um...what’s your first period again?” Bruce did that nervous tick again (the scratch behind his ear) and bounced his weight from leg to leg.

“Astronomy.” Thor grinned just thinking about that class. It never failed to keep him interested. “-We just had this whole project about whether we believed in life outside of Earth...” He shoved his hands into his pockets to avoid making more large gestures but the smile was just going to stay-put. “We got assigned a side that we had to defend, right? So luckily, I got the correct side.”

Bruce nodded, happily listening though he hadn’t really asked for all this information. “That there is life?”

“Yes, of course. Don’t you think so?”

“Yeah-Yes, I do.” Bruce shrugged. “There’s no way that we’re alone in the universe, that’d be a very...ignorant way of thinking.” He pushed his little glasses up the bridge of his nose. This had been one of his late night discussion topics with Tony just some weeks ago when he’d stayed the night to work on some designs for his father’s company.

Thor’s smile got brighter which didn’t seem possible. But Bruce only loosened his own smile to a very-near frown.

“I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that, Thor.”

That sentence stunned the blonde for a moment. “What’s wrong with the way I look at you?”

Bruce blushed though he tried to hide it. “It’s like...-” He took in some air. “I dunno...like you got real feelings...” ‘For me’ was implied but Thor knew Bruce well enough by now to know that he was far too embarrassed to say something like that.

“I do. Have I not made my feelings clear enough?” He was genuinely baffled. Thor made no attempt to hide anything he felt. He’d asked Bruce multiple times to hang-out past school, complimented him, and tried to get his number at least four times now.

“I know that you-...well, I know you’ve said that you...” Bruce sighed, tilting his chin up to Mr. Hammonds light. “Might wanna ‘hang-out’ but...I don’t think that’s the type of thing I’m cut out for.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean...a relationship with you-which isn’t an insult Thor. I would never say something to hurt you.” Bruce quickly rushed over to pat the guy’s chest. He could be so oddly touchy-feely without noticing even when discussing something like this. “We just don’t...-We’re very different people.”

Thor licked his lips and nodded. “I think we’re more similar than you think. Like all the times we get sidetracked in conversation when you help me study. During tutoring? And we’ve become so...in sync. You really helped me out when I was having my family issues, we don’t mind when the other goes off a long ramble about a topic, we make each other laugh....and even Loki likes you, not that he’d say so-”

“He does?”

“Oh yeah, he said that you amuse him. Which, is a compliment for Loki at least.” Thor shrugged. “Anyway, I think that if you gave me a shot, you might feel something?” He pawed at his hands as his nerves rose from his stomach to his chest.

“I dunno, Thor-”

“That’s ok. You don’t have to say yes. You don’t even have to give me an answer at all. I reassure you, I’m fine with just friends as long as I get to be around you.” Thor gently pat down on Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce looked down at Thor’s hand and became lost in his own head. Overthinking. He was especially good at that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

{Monday Night}

Bucky was being particularly insufferable. Tony was doing his best to give the guy the benefit of the doubt because he’d done his fair share on the other side. And Bucky may have complained but he always allowed Tony to have his little rants and such.

But Bucky was just parading around with the hardest looking frown that Tony had ever seen. It was very scary when a customer approached he just switched the damn thing to a bright grin with such speed that it knocked the wind outta Tony.

Plus, Bucky could be a little destructive when he was angry though he suspected it wasn’t totally on purpose. It just seemed to be on those kinda days where the guy would run into displays and knock them over. His mumbled swears could be heard from the other side of the counter but almost nowhere else in the place. Just his luck.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you?” Tony gently pinched his arm only to get slapped away.

“Nothing just-Oh shit. No way.” Bucky’s eyes widened as he raised his arms in mock defeat. Tony stepped back and craned his neck to see what the guy was so suddenly worked up about.

Walking up to the counter was a harmless looking guy around their age with a smirk on his face. “Hey, Buck.”

“I’m don’t have the strength for this guy today. Nope. Tony, you take care of him.” Bucky shook his head and turned away. Honestly, Tony sprinted to the counter because he’d had enough of angry Bucky today.

As Tony rung up the guy’s choice of two hot-dogs, he and Bucky seemed to communicate over his shoulders. He could tell by the way the man lazily shot up the finger with a glowing smirk. Bucky’s groan was loud and full.

Tony wanted to get in the middle of the drama immediately, planning to bother Bucky about it as soon as the dude left.

The guy collected his little paper trays of greasy food but instead of walking off to either of the hallways of theater rooms, he smoothly glided around the red counter. He kept a dog in hand but slid the other across the glitter to Bucky’s waiting hand.

Tony couldn’t help but wave his hand with confusion from his place far across the wide circled counter.

The brunette smiled, the first genuine kind of the day, and mumbled a thank you that was kinda muffled against the other guy’s cheek in a greeting kiss.

“Well I’ll be Damned! You weren’t lying.” Tony chuckled but he was either too far away or the two idiots were too far off in their own land. He suspected it was the second because the counter was nowhere near that large plus he could delightfully hear everything they said, if he listened carefully.

“I’m picking you up after work today at nine, right?”

Bucky nodded with a small hum as his mouth curled around the hot-dog. The guy watched Tony’s co-worker with an amused yet maybe aroused kind of smile. “Seriously, this is hot to you, Sam?” Bucky chuckled, swallowing his mouthful before sticking his finger in his mouth and sliding it back out with a pop.

Sam licked his lips but rolled his eyes. “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

Bucky nodded and gently smacked Sam’s cheek. “You love it. Where are we going?”

Sam took a quick bite of his food and looked off towards the front doors. “That is for me to know and for you to find out later.” The comment ended with him poking his finger into Bucky’s arm.

Tony hadn’t ever seen his co-worker so ok with being touchy-feely. In fact, he seemed more than just ok with it.

Bucky wasn’t even hesitant about snatching Sam’s hands away from his hot-dog and curling their fingers together, elbows resting on the counter as they swayed. “So you don’t know what we’re doing, that’s what you mean. Right?”

An annoyed sigh broke free from his partners mouth. “I have plans. I always have plans. You’re the one who just makes date night up as you go along.” He pointed one of his fingers to the best of his ability with Bucky’s gripped nearby.

Sam pulled away slightly but gave Bucky’s hands one more playful squeeze. “Anyway, I gotta go but I’ll see you later. Love ya, B.” He quickly gave Bucky a kiss on the cheek and started to let go his hands.

“Love you too.” Bucky’s response was far more mumbled and shy than Sam’s. Tony figured that he might even be blushing from the way he tried to linger their grip as Sam took off with his own hot-dog.

With Sam gone, Tony slid his way over with the biggest smirk.

“Shut-up, Tony.”

“I haven’t even said anything.”

“Keep it that way.” Bucky shoved past him and began his routine with the broken butter dispenser. It had been funny for the first half of their shift but now it was just sad.

“That’s pointless and you know it.” Tony rolled his eyes and shoved Bucky away with his hip and finally got his hands on the machine. “Listen, I won’t say much but...that soft little ‘I love you’ was a new side of cute for you.”

Bucky growled. “Stop talking.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Tony teased, turning around to face him. “What was with that stunt show, anyway? I thought you hated the guy when he walked in. You managed to fool even me.” His arms crossed.

“It’s just something we do.” Bucky shrugged, not knowing how else to explain it. The thing he had with Sam was so unlike any other relationship he’d ever experienced and he’d like to keep the details to himself. So, he would just have to do what he does best. Which was deal with his annoying co-worker in the only way possible, shift the attention away from himself and onto Tony.

“You’re just jealous cause you’re alone and sad.” He mocked a pout and flipped one of the flimsy red & gold cups in the air. “-And don’t you dare get all mopey about it cause you sure as hell could do something about it but you don’t.” He spoke just before Tony could open his mouth to complain and smacked the cup mid-air to whack him.

The empty theater memorabilia bounced off his head and thumped against the glossy floor with a satisfying hollow pop.

Tony didn’t seem to have any more energy left as he stared at it for a solid thirty seconds of silence before walking off. Defeat caved his back in slightly and slouched his stance as he went off to bother someone else.

Bucky felt conflicted but decided to look forward to his own date night rather than take on Tony’s issue just yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony was equal parts excited and horribly confused when Bruce Banner rolled into the theater, alone and on a Monday night. His brows shot into the air and hid behind his falling strands of brunette hair.

Bruce approached with slow caution and with his usual confused expression. “I thought you didn’t work Monday nights?”

“I always work Monday nights, genius.” Tony chuckled and fiddled with his fingers.

“Oh shit.” Bruce smacked his forehead and began to rub his fingers against it with intensity.

“Woah, woah-buddy.” Tony wagged his hands around. “Why were you trying to avoid me? Is it about our last conversation because I’ve been meaning to talk to you-”

“No, no. It’s not that, Tony!” He interrupted his friend with a genuinely kind grin. “You know that you can always talk to me about your problems with your dad, right? I didn’t mean to make you think that I was on ‘his side’. I was just trying-”

Tony felt that familiar rush of embarrassment that came with talking openly about his problems but he smiled. “I know, Bruce-baby.” He reached out to pinch his cheek and got smacked away. Bruce’s face begged him to actually be serious. “I know. I’m thankful.” The tiny towel flung with his hand gestures.

“Anyway, I’m surprised that you left your house. Why is Bruce Banner showing up to the theater? And alone?”

Bruce opened his mouth but never got the chance to speak because a happy looking blonde darted up behind him from the direction of the ticket stand.

‘Thor?’

“Thor?” Tony was beyond confused now and Bruce had taken to hiding his face in his hands when the blonde bounded over.

“Stark!” Thor tipped his chin in greeting.

Tony had basically known the same group of guys since he was little. First grade was when he palled around with Bruce, Thor, Clint, Natasha and Steve. They were each others ‘classroom’ friends.

Tony had Rhodey, who was his best friend that got put into a different class.

Steve talked about his best friend Bucky nearly every day who had tragically gone to a different school.

Thor used to just talk to everybody.

Clint & Natasha had been the only two ‘real’ friends in that group. They were scary. Like twins. Tony got chills just thinking about it.

Since the 1st grade, they had all just grown-up around each other & in the same schools. Some stayed kinda close and others didn’t. Tony wasn’t bitter about any of it, not at all.

He had not been aware that Bruce was even regularly speaking to Thor again.

“Oh wow.” He blinked slowly and habitually started preparing the usual snacks ordered by their customers. Two sodas and a large popcorn. “What are the two of you doing here tonight?” He attempted to throw Bruce an amused look but the guy was too embarrassed to make eye contact.

“We’re on a date!”

Tony nearly choked.

Thor’s voice was laced with excitement until he glanced down at his partner. “Unless...you didn’t want to call it that-because then of course, we’re just hanging out or..?-”

Bruce tried to be subtle about the way he tugged gently on Thor’s sleeve but Tony was just able to catch it. “No-um....yes-yeah.” Bruce struggled through his words at first but finally glanced up. “We’re on a date.”

Tony would literally applaud Bruce on his ability to overcome his habit of anxiety over such things but he didn’t think Bruce would like that very much.

“Why don’t you go get our seats and I’ll bring back the snacks?” Bruce tugged on Thor’s sleeve again and the big dork nodded, patting his friends arm as he left.

When the blonde was a good distance away, Tony leaned over and shook his friend by the shoulders. “Look at you! Wow. I’m so proud...yet so...” He leaned back with his arms crossed “Jealous.”

His friend blushed and slapped his hand against his cheek to cover it.

“And not to mention, confused?” He added.

“I’ve been tutoring Thor.” Bruce tried to clarify. “Since the end of Junior year.”

“Why didn’t I know this?”

“I don’t know! I just didn’t...-I...” He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal but then Thor...” He looked in the direction the guy took off in. “Well, he’s expressed an interest in...me?”

“Don’t sound so confused Bruce. You’re a catch.” Tony winked but tried to get his point across with honesty. “I can’t say this hasn’t completely thrown me off but don’t sell yourself short. You’re a great guy. Hell, I would’ve dated you Freshman year if you asked.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and stole a piece of popcorn from the container Tony slid over. “That’d be a disastrous relationship.” He chuckled and Tony pretended he was offended. “I just don’t know.” Bruce laid his chin in his hand and sighed.

“You’re on a date with a wonderful, blonde, jock. who seems to really like you. Just enjoy it.” Tony thought it best not to let his bitterness drip into his tone at all.

Bruce shrugged. “How are you doing?”

‘Typical of him to switch subjects’. Tony didn’t feel like masquerading with dramatics, so he gave an honest sigh. “It is what it is, Bruce. The old man...” His sentence faded into a far off thought while his hand hung loosely in the air. “Will be here to pick me up after my shift and for the first time in a long time...I don’t even feel like gettin’ his goat. I’m too tired to argue tonight.”

Bruce’s face suggested that he wanted to talk some more but it also expressed a loud eagerness to return to Thor. So, Tony shoved the snacks over and cracked a small smile.

“Enjoy your date.”

Bruce wandered off with a mixture of emotions brewing but that was nothing new. ‘God, just hope the guy lets go and has some fun.’ Tony wished Bruce well but couldn’t help but feel hopelessly jealous that everyone seemed to be getting into a relationship but him.

The blonde jock that he had his eyes on was never going to make a move.

Life sucked.

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rosettahart · 6 years ago

Text

Glass-say: Chapter 7

Chapter 1, Chapter 6

Ao3 link

Summary: The boys do a lot of conversing… (Yes the writer just gave up on trying to come up with a good summary, but hey the chapters finished!)

Warnings: Implied Physical Abuse

Chapter 7

Roman collected his jacket from the floor and pulled it on. “Well, it looks like my half hour is up. I only have two hours until rehearsal, so unless you need me to stick around a little longer, I kind of had something I needed to do…”

“Pfft. Need your help? What would you even do, mess up the soundboards?” Virgil scoffed.

“I didn’t actually press any of the buttons! In fact, that whole diversion was to help you!”

“Well Roman, your quote-unquote, ‘diversion’ didn’t actually divert away any of my attention from what was truly going on. Alternatively, it made Virgil's leave more obvious. So your attempt to be helpful in actuality ended up being counterproductive.” Logan remarked, repositioning his glasses and letting his mouth turn up in a hint of a smirk.

Patton squeezed Virgil's shoulder, trying not to melt as Virgil himself smiled behind his sleeve at Roman’s offended noises and posture.

“It's the thought that counts, erlenmeyer trash! You know what? I don't need to take this from the likes of commoners such as yourselves! Good day!” Roman huffed, stomping off towards the exit.

“Uh… Roman?” Virgil called out hesitantly.

Roman turned his attention to the emo. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For, um… earlier with my attack and all… And you too, Logan. It could have definitely gone a lot worse without you two. So thanks.”

“Aww, kiddo...” Patton rested his head on his friend's shoulder, feeling proud of him.

“You’re very welcome, my half-goth Prince.” Roman bowed.

“Your thanks is unnecessary, I merely observed that you were in need of assistance and knew what needed to be done in order to alleviate your panicking state, so I used my knowledge like any other person would have done. What is the point in knowing something if you aren't going to use it in a situation that directly calls for that specific information you’ve retained?” Logan asked rhetorically.

Roman internally beat himself up for not going the no-thanks-needed route. He had been so caught off guard by the shift in Virgil's tone and that brief soft vulnerable look in his eyes that he had responded with the first thing that came to mind. Now Logan sounded like a gentleman and Roman was left to be seen as a conceited, self-centered jerk.

“Well, if that’s all, I really should get going…” Roman pointed out, backing up to leave.

“Roman?” Virgil cursed himself for bringing Roman’s attention back to him for a second time as he was trying to leave. Was he now going to see the two of them as friends? That wouldn't sit well with the groupies...

“Yes, short, dark and brooding?”

“I’m only a little shorter than you! Ugh, nevermind!”

“Nevermind what, Virgil?”

“...You forgot your bag.” Virgil said shyly nodding to the dark red backpack laying on the floor.

“Oh, yeah. Don't want to leave that behind. Thanks.” Roman blushed, retrieving the bag, “Actually, there's something else I almost forgot.”

Roman unzipped one of his backpack pockets, pulling out a book and offering it to Virgil. “I checked it out under my name in case you changed your mind about reading it, because if it's anything near as interesting as its summary makes it out to be, I wouldn't mind reading it myself.”

“Aww, that's so sweet of him!” Patton gushed, still holding Virgil's arm in his.

“Um, thanks.” Virgil accepted the book, being careful not to graze Roman’s fingers with his own. He knew Patton wasn't going to let him easily forget about the theatre geek’s stupid, thoughtful gesture anytime soon.

“It was the least I could do after the whole...” Roman moved his hand around through the air, hoping to make it clear he was referring to the incident in the library, “-thing that happened earlier. Anyways, I really should get going, I have plenty of quests to complete before rehearsal begins and if I don't leave now I may not be able to do them. So I guess I'll see the two of you around!”

Virgil let out a relieved sigh as Roman finally disappeared from view. “Thank goodness! I thought he was never going to leave.”

“Perhaps if you did not call after him every time he had attempted to depart, he would have been gone a lot sooner.” Logan interjected, his eyes pulled shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Now kiddos, it's not nice to talk badly about others behind their back, or even in front of their front! Roman was just trying to be a good friend and here you two are acting relieved that he's finally gone!” Patton lectured, ending with a heavy sigh and dropping his hands from his hips. “I'm very disappointed in the both of you.”

“Well then, my apologies for finding Roman’s presence off-putting at times, seeing as most of our interactions have left me in a state of aggravation. Besides, it is clear that he only wishes to offer one of us his companionship.” Logan defended hotly.

“Sorry, Patton, but like I said earlier I have my rea- Wait, hold on! Logan did you just… Patton, did Logan just…!?” Virgil sputtered out.

“I believe what you are currently seeking to discern is if I am now able to hear Patton, in which case the answer is yes, I am.”

“Isn't it great, Kiddo? Logan found out all on his own! He's just so smart! Like, I don't think I would’ve been able to put all the pieces together in one day!” Patton praised as Logan adjusted his glasses, the corner of his lips turning upwards as he did.

“So wait, Logan, you aren't freaked out by the whole Patton being a ghost thing?” Virgil faltered.

Patton flinched, pushing away the urge to wrap his arms around himself. It was just a stupid word, one that he hadn’t heard Virgil refer to him with for a long while… Ghost… Death… So cold-

“Not at all. In fact, I find this to be rather intriguing.” Logan stated, turning his attention over to Patton who perked up as their eyes met. “I have many questions of which I would be well pleased to have answered.”

Patton’s cheeks colored and he shoved back his negative feelings for the moment in favor of the thought of spending more time talking with Logan.

“Thank the stars! I mean, uh, maybe Patton could answer questions some other time, though? We really should get back to the soundbooth to get to work on checking the positioning of the lights and you should probably get back to finishing the set.” Virgil suggested.

“Of course. I assume you would be as appreciative at having your glasses back as I would in having my own?”

“Oh, right! I can go get those for you. Don't worry, I won't make a spec-tacle out of it!” Patton giggled, not giving Logan time to respond as he hurried off to the booth.

“Patton is not aware that I will also be needing to retrieve my messenger bag, is he?” Logan sighed, shaking his head a little as he started in the direction the joyful ghost had just rushed off in. Virgil was not far behind.

“That's Patton for you. He gets excited over something and forgets about everything else.” Virgil explained fondly, remembering how their first overnight field trip together went. Or maybe he had forgotten on purpose…

Patton intercepted the two at the stairs, nearly toppling them over before coming to a stop. “Sorry, I almost barreled right over the booth of you.”

Logan visually cringed at the pun.

“I found your glasses, Logan! I don't think I would've been table to if you hadn't had left them in plain sight.” Patton joked, handing them over.

“Is it completely necessary that you use your rather unpleasant wordplay in every interaction you have?” Logan groaned inwardly, starting to regret ever discovering the specter’s existence, especially if it meant he was going to have to endure such nonsensical puns every meeting.

“Well, do you have to look all cute every time you smile?” Patton shot back, floating up a bit so he could be eye level with Logan.

“I assure you I am not ‘cute’, nor will I ever be cute, as to be cute is to be attractive in a pretty or endearing way and I am neither pretty or endearing.” Logan argued.

“Well if you don't want to be cute, can I call you hot?”

“No, because my body temperature is not currently at an uncommonly higher level of heat compared to that of which is referred to be known as healthy and/or normal.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, heading up the stairs while the two continued their conversation, slowly following after him.

He felt his phone buzz with a notification. He waited until he was in the sound booth before taking it out and opening up his text messages.

Sorry about not texting you back at lunch, a lot happened. Nothing bad though! In fact I'd say today's been quite the adventure! Sorry I can't chat more, I kind of have work to do and I'm pretty busy for the next few hours, but maybe we could text later tonight? Like much later? Anyway talk to you soon, Xi and I hope your day got better or is getting better! <3 Ci

Virgil smiled down at his phone screen, leaning his shoulder against the back wall and facing away from the open door behind him.

There was only two more weeks until he would finally be meeting his Prince in person and he couldn't wait! It would be two months shy of five years as online friends when they would be actually seeing the other for the first time. Princey and he had both agreed not to send pictures of themselves until they were both ready. It had started off with Virgil being cautious and unsure of whether or not he could fully trust his new friend. At the time he wasn't entirely secure with the way he looked and when he did finally feel ready, he learned that Princey still wasn't. So Virgil waited, making sure not to push the issue. Then Ci made a plan last summer to meet in person for their five year anniversary. They had found out they were both in the same school division, so they probably didn’t live too far away from the other. It was a really good plan. But then Virgil heard about the Masquerade for their division and he saw it as both a chance to meet earlier and a way he could romance his crush. Princey had agreed. It was a good way to slowly get accustomed to each other, and they would have masks to hide their faces so they could do a kind of reveal at the end of the night once they were more comfortable being around the other.

no its ok dont worry about it!

i probably wouldn’t have answered anyways with how my lunch period went

also don't wait up for me we can always text each other tomorrow and i'd hate for you to lose sleep because of me, especially after such a long day

sleep well! <3 Xi

“You texting Princey?”

Logan left Virgil and Patton alone after Patton had caused Virgil distress. He had retrieved his messenger bag and after continuing with the final touches of the set, he was sent home.

Logan made sure to straighten everything he was wearing the best he could (even though nothing really did need fixing) as he retraced his steps from school back to the house. His Father didn't have work today. He wouldn’t have any other reason to be out at this time except groceries, but they weren't running low on anything so he would undoubtedly still be waiting at home. Waiting for Logan to get back so he could scold him for receiving detention on the first day due to his unnecessarily violent behaviour. Ready to bring in the ‘Your Dad taught you better,’ speech. It wouldn't be as hard to listen to if his Dad were still around, though.

Logan came to a stop in front of his driveway, taking in the two-story house that he was still getting used to. His gaze fell on the drawn curtains of the living room window and he could feel his back begin to burn at the thought of his father waiting impatiently on the other side of it. He scratched at his arm as he remembered what he had done. How he had idiotically let his emotions get the best of him, and now deserved whatever punishment he would receive for his actions. Logan took a deep shaky breath in to compose himself as he reached the door, turning the knob and letting himself into the house.

Chapter 8

Taglist:

@kittiebrick

@absolutesandersidestrash

#sander sides fanfiction #sander sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #thomas sanders #ghost au #romance #ts patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #glass-say #rosettahart writes

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