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lluvguts · 4 years ago

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Cool Blue ; Chapter Seven

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frightened by my feelings

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☽ a/n: i'm so sorry for the long wait! i've been in a mood.

☽ warnings: internalized homophobia

☽ fic masterlist

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Alberto broke away from Giulia's hand clasped in his own and listened to their steps (his silent, always barefoot but Giulia's sandals slapped the boards unpleasantly) up the rickety staircase to the hallway. Mismatched pairs of socks and a few pencil shavings led them off in a distinct line to Alberto's room, ending at his door, a sign to anyone else in the house that Alberto had been rummaging through the downstairs cupboards at night; whereas Giulia's room opposite his, clean when she wanted it to be, teeming with school books and Machi's homemade cat toys and plant life, had no such trail.

"You know, come to think of it, this makes much more sense now," Giulia mused, her eyes fixed on her toes as Alberto abruptly stopped them at the doorway to his room.

Alberto felt a headache start to blossom beneath his eyelids, above his browbone. A throb with no rhythm but all the more pain to make up for it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the steadying weight of the doorframe pressing on his shoulder as he leaned on it. Giulia knew, but she...also didn't. A tiny fleck marked the frame and only became apparent in his blurry vision, just a chip on the wood. Stripped of paint and sticking out against the cream walls in an ugly slash.

He trailed his thumb along the divot, feeling the splinters biting underneath his calloused hand. Giulia was still talking, ignoring his silence. The tension only grew the longer Alberto hovered at the door, refusing to open it and let all of those things come seeping out, with Giulia's smug remarks making the pain reach a high point.

"...I'm not nearly as obvious about, uh, my thing as you are. I don't go painting pictures of him--which I'm almost positive you do, by the way. Oh! And Papa's camera? You took photos, too? Santa mozzarella, Alberto, this is just like a soap opera--"

Alberto's thumbnail dug into the wood. "Yeah, okay Giulia, we get it. You're such a genius or whatever for knowing my secrets, alright? Will you ever shut up?"

Giulia blinked, losing some of that teasing glint in her eyes, but only for a moment. She stood up straighter and examined Alberto's pained expression and his half-stance, shouldered up on the wallpaper so he didn't faint from fear. She yanked his forearm away from the divot in the doorframe and pulled it forward, propelling them into Alberto's room without any other notice.

"Wait! Giulia! It's-It's very messy in here! I wouldn't want you having a heart attack or something..." Alberto rambled, flinging free of her grip once again to run ahead of her.

Always in the lead, scrambling to kick his discarded bath towel under the bed, and the rush of feelings that surged with it. The photos. The pictures were still on the dresser, and Giulia was standing by the bed, so that saved him at least a few agonizing minutes. While she grimaced at his crumpled sheets, pinching her nose and complaining of the fish smell, Alberto shied away from her gaze, laughing nervously and edged closer to the dresser.

"Honestly, Alberto," Giulia picked up his comforter, then wrinkled her nose in disgust and it flew from her fingers. "Haven't you heard of airing out your bedroom? The window is literally right here."

He glanced over Giulia's shoulder at the harbor beyond, thinking she should be at work. They should both be at work, or working, or doing at least something. "Don't like it."

"Don't like the window?" A piece of dirty laundry, another item under close sibling scrutiny, was dropped from her hands. Giulia turned from the wall and smirked unconvincingly at Alberto's palms outstretched along the top of the dresser, practically leaning on it for dear life.

He tried to clear his throat, but it was dry. Everything in his room was dry. The towel from the night before was cast under his bed, stiff as old citrus. The empty glass behind him, the tiny ring of water that clung to the bottom now dried up. Definitely what had happened hours before had nothing to do with what was already drying inches below his belt. God, he needed a shower to scrub off the memories. No, sear them off his skin.

Stop. Don't think of that.

"No! I, uh--" Alberto closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, that headache never seeming to go away. "I don't...like...the boats."

That was mostly true. He just didn't like some boats in particular, the ones that hunted down sea monsters and pried the scales from their bodies as if they were gold flecks. He didn't mind giving up the salty nighttime breeze for peace of mind. What he didn't want to sacrifice, however, was the lingering (stifling) smell of Luca's scales clinging to his bedsheets and in the bathroom, with the door constantly open, a heady ocean candle that was never snuffed out.

"Pfft! You liar, you basically live on a boat you work so much. What about it could you possibly not like?" She tried a new tactic, no longer rooting through article after offensive article of boyish mess, and instead picked apart the uneasy smile in Alberto's upturned lips, evident in the sweat along his temple.

Her dark eyes roamed over Alberto, looking up at the wall then back down to his sprawled arms and aching shoulders, realization dawning. "You're...stalling! Hah! Think changing the subject will do you any good when you're around me, eh?"

Giulia marched over to Alberto, who even hunched back to conceal the contents of the dresser was taller by a few inches.

"You're hiding something, aren't you?" Giulia whispered, her voice once dripping with an easygoing slyness that only came with being siblings. But now, she steeled her eyes over Alberto's shoulder, freckled and tanned and nicked with fishing scars, searching but said nothing else.

Alberto slid his tongue along the rough roof of his mouth, tasting salt. He winced at Giulia's tender fingertips brushing over the top of his shoulders to reach for something outside of his vision, but by the feather-light intake of breath that Giulia did a poor job at hiding, he knew exactly what she had found. One photo turned to two, then three, and soon Giulia was thumbing through all of them like the old card deck they always managed to misplace on late nights.

"Luca," Giulia murmured softly, the polaroids pinched between her shaking fingers. She said his name, and the grapefruit that Massimo had held in his bare hand came to mind, suddenly. His name sounded sweet as she said it, peeling back the shocking rinds to a much more bitter discovery, the picture wrapped in a thin little fruit membrane that Giulia had torn apart and dove in hands first to pick out the seeds. She said his name, and Alberto bit his tongue, waiting, waiting. The salty tang was met with the quick release of blood as he chewed on his lip, not caring for the sting but more so for the way the air in the room stood still.

Giulia was sitting on the bed now, and Alberto was still sprawled out along the dresser, feeling time rush back in to greet him. The window was still closed. The bath towel peeked out from hard bedframe, sage fabric frozen in place, silently screaming if Alberto could guess. All of the warmth in the room flooded to Alberto's face, his flushed cheeks burning so hot he covered them with clammy palms. This wasn't happening...

The dizziness in his brain had subsided, at least for now. Pushed to the side. "I...uh...I think I can--You aren't afraid, are you?"

Giulia opened her mouth, speaking silent demands. The pictures were still in her hands. Though she was shaking and casting their glossy film over Alberto's pleading eyes. He took a step to her, and she held up a hand--the one that wasn't clutching the polaroids. Holding Luca. Così bello, Luca.

"Take me to him."

"Huh?" Alberto skittered back, eyeing the photos but afraid to take them from her hands, gently thumbing through them again like she was seeing the glossy scales and bright eyes for the first time. "I don't know...uh, I don't know what you're asking, Giulia," Alberto breathed, itching to take the stack of photos. Giulia sensed her brother's restlessness and stood up to place them into his trembling hands. They fit perfectly into his palms, and he carded through the five with a fond smile he quickly abandoned when realization hit him and Giulia was, there.

"Saying they were just a myth, Alberto?" Giulia brought all of the photos together carefully, choosing not to see Alberto's eyebrows shooting up into his head of curls but at the rows and neat edges she'd made. "But oh, wow, Luca. So...much different that what Papa says about sea monsters. He's so..."

Alberto's heart sped up. "Beautiful?" Was he even allowed to say that? What would she think?

Giulia nodded, flashing an appreciate grin but still indecisive.

"That's okay, Alberto," She wrapped her hands over Alberto's, a pillar to his crumbling resolve, and put her chin against his collarbone to still him. She sighed, a rumbling breath into his ribcage, and he felt his chest lighten. "It's okay to think he's beautiful."

Alberto didn't think he could get a word out, with his sister's hair inches from his nose, filling his head with soothing, sleepy smells. She had stuck a stem of lavender from the vase in the kitchen behind her ear.

No it's not.

"Shhh, fratello. Just don't think for a moment, si?" Giulia took the photos again and put them in her pants pocket, then wrapped her assuring arms around Alberto's neck as he let out a soundless cry. "You're okay."

Alberto buried the bridge of his sunburnt nose into Giulia's hair, the tiny periwinkle flower buds tickling his cheekbone.

"The lavanda in the vase, you bought that? It...was for him, wasn't it?" Giulia murmured to distract, petting the side of his neck to calm him down.

"...He couldn't keep it. The petals would float to the surface." His words came out sniffled and ugly-sounding, making him cringe but also hold in a laugh imagining Luca bringing a bouquet of flowers underwater just to see them all rush past his wide eyes to the surf above.

Giulia snorted and laughed against his chest, and soon Alberto was chuckling softly along with her. "Let's go see il tuo cuore, okay?"

"You're serious?" Alberto readjusted the lavender stem in her hair. "Giulia, this is like the total opposite of how I thought this would go."

She took his hand tenderly and went to the door, but not without a whiplash turn of her head, cocking one eyebrow in defiance. "What, did you expect me to reach for the nearest harpoon? Like everyone else in this town? I don't think so." She tapped her forehead, smirking. "Open mind, dummy."

Alberto squeezed her pinky finger. "Okay, you were so sweet a second ago. What happened?"

"Lots of things, big guy," Giulia clicked her tongue and pulled Alberto's hand closer. "But that vase on the dining room table, those flowers. That's how I knew. If it were a girl, you would have listened to Papa's advice for roses. But you got lavender."

Alberto sighed, fighting the impulse to tug his hand away and retreat fearfully back to his room. "If you think it's such a stupid idea, we can make tea with them. Papa got a new kettle at the market."

Giulia gave him a side glance again. "And what about Luca?"

"Fine, no tea then." Alberto stumbled on his words, choking on them almost. Would Luca...even be there? After what had happened...

He blushed and stopped, inches above Giulia's head when he stood one step higher than her, looking directly into the kitchen on his right where the vase was. Evening light spilled in the window by the sink the Marcovaldos refused to close, bathing the ornate, bottle green glass in moody flashes of color on the patched up tablecloth. A sliver of a grapefruit rind sat, hard and darkened next to the reflection of lavender stems, from Massimo's talk. Alberto swallowed the immediate flush of nausea, hating the way he could almost taste the embarrassment and worry on his tongue, inside his pores.

It was going to get dark soon.

#luberto #luberto fanfic #luberto fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #luca #luca fanfic #luca x alberto #luca paguro #luca movie #luca fanfiction #alberto scorfano #luca paguro x alberto scorfano #luca and alberto #gay fish boys #luca pixar

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k7l4d4 · 4 years ago

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A New Perspective: Owl House AU Story

Hello All, today, I am going to embark on a Collaboration with my good friend, Flamestar50! Everybody clap your hands!!

Standing in the main living room of the Owl House, a face off of epic proportions was taking place. With this, the entire fate of this ragtag band of misfits would be changed forever...

“I play, THE WILD CARD!!” With a victorious shout, Eda slammed down her Wild Card, winning herself the game of, you guessed it, Hex’s Holdem, much to the annoyed groans of her sister and King.

“Edalyn, please. Reconsider!” Lilith pleaded, desperate to try and gain some measure of caution from her sister before she did something stupid. “Was playing a mere card game really necessary to decide what to do with the shard of the portal Luz recovered!?”

Eda turned an annoyed glare her sister’s way. She had committed to this, and she would not be swayed. And besides, “Need I remind you that you cursed me, lied to me about it for years, and blindly followed a tyrant in some insane scheme to cure me without me ever finding out it was all your fault?” As Lilith cringed, feeling the brutal honesty of her sister’s words, Eda fought off a grin. “You’re lucky I gave you anything resembling a say in this anyway. At least you had a fair shot!”

Lilith silently conceded the point. For all her crimes, she was insanely lucky Eda was letting her live here, let alone allowing her a say in what went on. Still, this was risky. “I understand that. I merely wish for you to take a moment and consider what could go wrong! It’s something I’ve wished I’d done myself all these years.” Lilith internally cringed, knowing that, even if her ploy, however honest it may be, worked, Eda was going to be sour for that.

Lilith was honestly surprised as Eda merely sniffed, and nodded. “I’m not as reckless as you seem to believe sis. I know not to try anything crazy with this little doohickey.” She held up said doohickey, a sliver of the portal to the Human Realm they had managed to recover. She shot her sister a crooked grin. “I haven’t avoided getting caught all these years by being reckless, and I know when to keep myself in check; it’s not just ineptitude that kept your goons from grabbing me all those years!”

In spite of the little jab, Lilith breathed a sigh of relief, more than glad her sister wasn’t planning anything... TOO crazy. “Very well. Do you have any plans in particular?”

Eda grinned, more than glad to talk about her favorite subject the majority of the time; herself! “As a matter of fact...”

As the two witches made their way to the kitchen, Eda craved some good old fashioned Apple Blood after a well-earned victory, chatting away about their plans, neither noticed that they had forgotten the very shard they had had their epic duel of wits and will just moments before on the table.

“Eda! I got my Potion Homework ready! You promised to help me go over it, remember? Eda?” Entering with said potion in hand was the Owl Lady’s Apprentice herself, Luz Noceda. As she looked around, she quickly spotted Eda’s cards for Hexes Holdem, rolling her eyes fondly. She may not have known what Eda and Lilith had been playing over, but the fact they weren’t here was a solid indicator Eda had won, and was getting her victory Apple Blood, as had been her tradition since the debacle with Tibbles.

“Luz! I’m bored and demand your aid!” Marching in with as menacing a glower as his adorable face could manage was King, Eda’s original roommate and the self-styled King of Demons. Also, one of Luz’s good friends, when he wasn’t being an adorable tyrant that is! “I need you to get me some of the backup cookies behind the- hey what are you doing?” One thing King could always be counted on was his ability to instantly switch fixations at random, and his current fixation was now Luz’s project!

Eager to finally have someone show interest in her non-glyph related work, Luz began extolling all that her potion was supposed to be and could accomplish, theoretically, with King unusually enraptured by her monologue. He normally could only really focus on his own! Just as she was about to get to the good part, Hooty barged in. “HEY WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT? DO YOU THINK I COULD HELP!?!? HOOTY HOOT!”

“GAH!” With a yelp, and an undignified plop to the ground, King whirled on the House Demon. “Why can you never enter without making a scene!?” As King bellowed his retort to Hooty’s unintentional mayhem unironically, he leapt for the larger demon, who let out a rather frightened shriek. As the two demons wrestled, Luz tried her best to break them up.

“Guys, guys! Please! Can’t this wait till later?” As Luz pulled at Hooty’s sinuous bulk, she never noticed as she and King inched ever closer to her Homework and, unbeknownst to them, the portal shard. As they pulled closer and closer, Luz picked up the thumps of Eda and Lilith drawing nearer to the racket.

“Eda, I can’t believe we left the shard in the living room!?”

“Ah nuts, Lily, it’ll be fine..” No sooner had Eda uttered this did she and Lilith enter the room and took in the carnage. She slowly turned to her sister, noting the struggle to keep a pleased grin off her face, and retorted in advance. “Not. One. Word.” As Lilith pulled her hands up in surrender, Eda strolled over, more than ready to put a stop to the nonsense, when her eyes honed in on the sight of the shard, and the unknown potion beside it. As her memory of her promise to help Luz snapped into place, she quickly shouted a warning.

Said warning came just a hair too late, as Hooty and the other crashed into the table, and sent the potion and shard smashing into each other. As the potion sputtered and sparked, the wrestling demons and human finally noticed the arrival of the elder witches, as well as the destabilizing potion next to them.

As Lilith took in the sight before her, of her sister, her sister’s apprentice, her roommate, and their very home itself abstractly, she knew she had only one option. With a leap containing every ounce of effort her body could give, Lilith shoved the others out of the way, shielding the potion with her body.

“LILY!!” With a desperate cry, Eda reached out as best she could, desperate to save her sister from the potion breaking down beneath her form.

“Goodbye, Eda.” With a content smile, Lilith pulled closer, fully prepared to sacrifice her life for her family, and as the potion finished breaking down under the influence of its surprise ingredient... a portal opened up directly overhead. Snapping her gaze above herself, Lilith’s eyes widened as a bevy of individuals fell through, and onto herself.

Stunned at what had just occured, and noting how similarly, heck, fully identical, the strangers looked to Luz and her little friends, Eda had just one thing to say. “Well, that was unexpected.” Turning her head to Luz, she only half-jokingly added: “Want to help me pickpocket them?”

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 5 years ago

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Becoming A Stark? (13) Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

Word Count: 2881

Warning: Swearing, because it’s me lol

Author’s Note: Let me know if you want to be tagged on future chapters of this:) Enjoy!

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Pepper promised not to show your dad the permission slip. You didn’t want him to appear out of nowhere during the field trip and ruin everything. The fact that your name on the building wasn’t enough of a permission slip alone apparently, so that was where Pepper came into everything. You had her sign the slip and then turned it into Mr. Shah.

“So the Avengers won’t be there when we visit?” Betty asks you as you and Astrid walk towards the bus with her.

“If you’re asking if Bruce will be there, the answer is no. I haven’t seen him since basically you guys came over for dinner that first time. He’s off world or something.” You file into the back of the bus, before you see that it’s not only your class getting on the bus. “Who’s the other class that’s joining us?”

“Mr. Harrington- Teaches junior sciences and decathlon. I think it’s the decathlon team that’s coming with though. Yeah, has to be. Look there’s Liz!” Betty waves to Liz through the window. Decathlon, that means…

“Fancy meeting you here Y/N.” Peter’s voice comes from the seat in front of you. “Stark Industries? Didn’t think you would even be interested in visiting.”

“I thought it would be an enrichment opportunity. See what the public sees Parker.” You smirk at him. “What about you? You going to give the tour?” Before he can respond, a voice from a few seats in front of him calls towards him.

“Penis Parker, you harassing Y/N Stark? Just wait until we get to the SI and her dad sees that you follow her around like a lost puppy. He won’t want trash near her. He’ll want people of his own caliber near her.”

“Just ignore him.” Peter pleads softly. He should have guessed that a Stark doesn’t walk away from a problem though.

“Eugine right?” You ignore the fact that everyone calls him Flash. He looks up at being addressed by a Stark. “I don’t think my dad would appreciate you calling his personal intern Penis. But I can check with him. In the meanwhile, I’d like to keep garbage away from me. And by that, I mean you.” Flash goes quiet and turns around in his seat.

“That probably will just make him worse.” Peter says, looking over his seat as he talks to you.

“And if it does, I’ll call a few Avengers to deal with him. Maybe I’ll get Dad to call Spider-Man. I hear Eugine is a huge fan. Wouldn’t it be great to see him get a talking to from him?”

“Sure, but I don’t think Spider-Man does that kind of thing.” The kid sitting next to Peter glances at him, trying to get an answer from him that you don’t understand.

“I’m Y/N.” You offer a hand to him, trying to figure out who this other kid is.

“Ned. I know who you are. You’re like all Peter talks about. Well like besides Mr. Stark and like-” Peter’s hand goes over Ned’s mouth.

“That’s not at all true. And I think you’ve said enough Ned.”

“I’d love to hear more.” You say with a smirk. Peter talks about you? “What else does he say?” Peter shakes his head at Ned.

“Is it true that you know the Avengers?” Ned changes the subject.

“Yeah? They lived at the tower with us for a while. Then they didn’t. Now we don’t live at the tower.” You explain with a shrug.

“So who’s the best Avenger?”

“Don’t I have to say Iron Man by default?”

“No. You could say anyone. Like Black Widow, or Spider-Man, or even Falcon.”

“Spider-Man isn’t an Avenger. He works on his own?” You say, the question in your voice.

“Really? I thought he joined the Avengers from time to time, but maybe I heard wrong. You know news can be made up. Who’s to say what’s true and what’s not these days?” Peter elbows Ned to try and get him to shut up.

“I haven’t heard anything from the Avengers about him joining. I teased my dad that Spider-Man would yeet him off a building. Spider-Man is probably too cool to be an Avenger anyway.”

“I think Spider-Man would join the Avengers if given the chance.” Peter throws out quickly.

“I’ll tell my dad you think so.”

“Is your dad going to join the tour?” Astrid asks from across the aisle.

“God I hope not. I had Pepper sign the permission slip so that I wouldn’t have to tell him I was coming.”

“Why would him knowing you’re coming to the tower be a bad thing?” Betty asks.

“Because, you know how bad he can be when you guys just come over for dinner? Well imagine him doing that in front of our entire class plus the decathlon team. It would be awful.” You turn to look Peter in the eyes. “If you text him and tell him we’re coming I swear I will end our Snapchat streak.”

Peter throws his hands up. “I didn’t mention it. I honestly was more worried about him embarrassing me if he knew I was coming and I’m not even his kid.”

“Good.” Your bus pulls up in front of the building you had called home until you had moved into the brownstone in Queens. As you file off the bus, a very familiar voice gives instructions.

“Everyone will need to wear their visitor badges at all times. At the end of the tour you will return them. So do not lose them. Also you will go through the scanners before you are able to enter the upper floors.” Happy hasn’t spotted you or Peter near the back of the group after getting off the bus in front of the tower.

“Do you think I get a visitor badge?” You whisper to Peter.

“I hope so. Or else Happy might have to kick you from the building.” Peter whispers back.

“That would be the best thing for the paparazzi to see. Head of Security kicks Tony Stark’s child out of SI.” You say with a laugh. “Pepper would never get home tonight having to deal with that press.”

“Ok, who are our two trouble makers in the back who aren’t paying attention?” Happy’s voice raises and you and Peter are suddenly the center of attention. “Should have guessed it. You two better have your badges, I only have visitor badges for non staff and family.”

“Damn Happy I thought I’d get to be a visitor.”

“Your name is on the building kid. You don’t get to be a visitor.” Happy kids with a smile then returns to his no nonsense face. “Just like airport security. Bags and anything in your pockets go through the scanners. Then you pass through the metal detectors. Peter, Y/N- go through your normal entrance.” There is a separate scanner for those who have special clearance, limited to the Avengers, Pepper, Happy, you, and a few others that you don’t know of off the top of your head. It’s a quick body scanner done by FRIDAY as you enter through a door. Just to appease Happy you clip the badge that you never really need to wear since you are never really at the tower onto the bottom of your forest green cardigan. Peter has pulled his out too and clips it to his decathlon blazer.

“Y/N, Peter. Shouldn’t you be at school?” FRIDAY’s voice speaks as you both walk through the scanner.

“Field trip FRI.” You use your dad’s nickname for FRIDAY, not even realizing you did. You walk over to meet back with the group, hoping that this field trip goes off without a hitch.

Up on the sixty seventh floor, Tony is jamming out to Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC as it plays off of your playlist that he’s grown to just ignore the name of it. He’s learned that Tony Stark Can Rot is your upbeat playlist while I Hate My Life is your more slow music. But both have good music on them, ignoring the couple of Taylor Swift songs that shuffle on every now and then. And it makes him feel closer to you, so he’s grown used to playing one of the two while he works, especially when you’re at school. On his datapad, he’s running the numbers for a new attempt at the closed loop system. He wants to nail this for you. But a couple of the components just aren’t working.

“Boss, Y/N is 75 and dropping.”

“Text her and see if she’s correcting.” When you’re at school, there’s not too much he can do but wait for a response.

“She’s on the 34th floor. Should I have someone take her a snack?”

“Y/N is here? At the tower? But it’s a school day?”

“She and Peter are on a field trip.” Both his kids are here and no one told him? Well, maybe a break would be better right now.

“I’ll take her a snack.”

“Here we have…” You can’t fully focus on the voice speaking in front of you. You know you should check your blood sugar. The lack of focus usually means you’re either dropping low or running really high. With all the walking around the tower, your bet is dropping.

“You ok?” Peter asks from next to you. Though he can’t tell anyone, his spider sense is on high alert. And you’re not looking too good. Your face is pale and your eyes don’t seem to be focusing. Plus your hands seem to be shaking ever so slightly. You almost seem to be shifting in your spot and he wants to reach out and grab you.

“I got this one kid.” A very familiar voice speaks from behind the two of you, but you don’t even react to it.

“Mr. Stark I think she’s low.” Peter starts to say but Tony wraps an arm around you and starts to lead you to a chair.

“I know. FRIDAY told me.” Betty hears Tony’s voice from the middle of the group and pulls Astrid towards it.

“Is Y/N ok?”

“‘M fine.” You slur ever so slight. Tony screws the cap off the apple juice he grabbed from the kitchen on his way down here.

“She’s just low. She’ll be fine as soon as she has some sugar.” He offers you the open juice. Your hand reaches to take it, but he even notices the shaking as you try to take it. “Bambina, you’re ok. You just need to drink.” You take a couple hesitant sips. “Why didn’t you treat already?”

“Didn’t feel it.”

“I know you don’t feel your lows. That's why you have Wallace.” Your hypo-unawareness was nothing of a secret.

“Didn’t feel Wallace.” You shrug as you drink some more juice.

“Is that Tony Stark?” A voice from the other side of the room says. Peter notes that it’s Flash, but says nothing, more worried about you. Tony and you don’t even hear it. However, Mr. Shah notices you sitting in the chair with Tony basically holding you.

“Is everything alright Y/N?” He asks, trying to not act like being around Tony Stark is as big of a deal as it is.

“‘M low.” You say.

“Drink some more. You’ll feel better if you do bambina.” Tony doesn’t even look up at Mr. Shah. He’s too focused in on you.

“Don’t want it.” Your stubbornness with your lows sneaks in.

“I know, but it’s either this or we head over to the medbay and Dr. Cho can give you an IV.”

“Fineeeeeeeee.” You draw out the last syllable as you force some more juice down.

“Mr. Stark, I’m Flash Thompson-”

“If you don’t get out of my face, Happy will escort you out of the tower before you can say Avengers.” Tony snaps, not caring who this kid is. Right now his only thought is getting your numbers high enough for you to be back to his normally sarcastic but loving kid. “FRI what’s Y/N’s number?”

“68 and dropping still.”

“Pete, run down the hall and grab something with carbs. Cookies, chips, soda, candy. Anything.”

“Of course M-Tony.” Peter would normally just call him Mr. Stark, but since Flash was just shut down, he wants to show him how close they are. Then he remembers what he was just asked and basically sprints down the hall to where SI keeps a bunch of snacks on hand. He grabs the first things he sees that are high carb- some chocolate chip cookies and a packet of Skittles. He also grabs a soda at the last second to be safe. Making his way back to where you sit, leaning against Tony’s shoulder he offers the snacks to you. “Which sounds better, cookies, skittles, or soda?”

“Death.” You mumble.

“Not an option on the table kiddo. So how about you take one of the three Pete offered?” You fling a hand out and snatch one of the three not really caring. “Mr. Shah, I’ll keep Peter here in case I need him to grab more things for Y/N, but I don’t want the rest of the group to lose out on their tour. We can catch up with you when Y/N is back up in range.”

“If you’re sure Mr. Stark.”

“It’s not the first time we’ve had to deal with stubborn blood sugars.” Tony says before turning his attention to the group as you munch on the cookies you don’t really want to eat. “Lilly, keep going with the tour. I’ll keep Peter and Y/N. They’ll catch up.”

“Sure Mr. Stark. Let’s continue on this way.” The actual intern leads the group on as Mr. Harrington, Mr. Shah and the rest of the students follow. Astrid and Betty’s eyes trail behind, watching Y/N, but they know your dad won’t let anything happen to you. After the group is out of the room, Tony’s attention stays on you, but his question turns to Peter.

“So I’m Tony now?”

“Uh not if you don’t want to be Mr. Stark.”

“No take backs. I heard it. The group heard it. Happy probably heard it down on the first floor. I just was wondering what changed.”

“Eugine.” You mumble over a mouthful of cookies.

“Who’s Eugine?” Tony asks you.

“Flash. Thompson. That kid that tried to introduce himself while Y/N was crashing.” Peter clarifies as you open the soda that your dad doesn’t allow in the house. Will he buy it if you’re in the city and crashing, sure. But will he stock it in the house? Never. However, after growing up around the sticky drink, you’ve missed the taste. “He doesn’t want to believe that I actually intern with you.”

“So calling me Tony?”

“You called me Pete. It felt right.”

“Well if it feels right, keep doing it.” Tony’s attention goes back to you. “How you feeling kiddo?”

“Like death microwaved over.”

“FRI what’s her number?”

“68 and stable.”

“Well that’s better than dropping still.” Tony says. He looks at the soda in your hand. “I think that’s probably not needed.” You hold it away from his outstretched hand.

“I’m still low.”

“That is full of crap. Let me get you a green juice or something?” You scrunch your face.

“I’ll pass. You already make me drink one at breakfast. I only get these when I’m low.” You say before taking another sip. Peter should be surprised, but the part of him that pays attention isn’t that surprised. He’s never seen soda around the Tower when you lived there or at the brownstone when he’s at the labs. “Do I really have to catch back up with the tour group? It’s actually kind of boring.” You ask.

“I can see if you can sit in with Pep. It would make more sense for you than going on the public tour anyway.”

“Why with Pepper? Can’t I just go chill out upstairs or something?”

“You’re supposed to take over the company one day. If I’m pulling you from the field trip, I’m going to make sure you’re still getting an educational day. At least if I leave you with Pepper, you’re still learning stuff.” You’re hesitant. Sure it’s years away from the day you have to make an actual decision, but you have no real plans to take over the company. But a day spent with Pepper sounds more fun than going on a tour that’s 100% science based anyway. “Or,” Your dad adds sensing some hesitation, “You can come work with me on some stuff.”

“Like in the lab?” You and Peter ask at the same time.

“That is where I work on stuff.”

“I would mess everything up.” You reply honestly.

“Can I come work?” Peter asks, hoping to get out of the tour he doesn’t need either.

“And take you away from learning about what SI is working on? No. Kid, I want to see what you think of what we’re working on. So let’s get you back with the group. Y/N, I’ll let Mr. what’s his name-”

“Mr. Shah.”

“Mr. Shah, know that I’m pulling you for official Stark business and then take you to Pep.”

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #Pepper Potts #mr harrington #betty brant #astrid #flash thompson #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?

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starkergames · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: Dance Me to the End of Love Artists: @still-lovelygarnet (sketch), Lighinz (Ink), @the-mad-starker (Color + Writer) Notes: Lighinz: This was the first piece of starker fanart I’ve ever worked on and I’m so glad it was with my lovely teammates. They’re such inspirations! It’s been amazing seeing this all come together. ❤️❤️ Garnet: This drawing has been a journey for me, and I am so happy to see it finished! It’s a beauty and I am proud of my wonderful, stunning, hard working and stupidly talented teammates, @the-mad-starker & Lighinz! And let’s not forget the fic that comes with it, Mads being an absolute trouper as always. ❤️❤️ Thank you guys for having me! Mads: I had absolutely no idea how much work coloring was but my teammates were always so encouraging and supportive. QAQ I’ll never take fanart for granted again QAQ But I’m happy I gave this a shot and I’ve learned so much. Thanks to my teammates and for this event for bringing us together 💗 The social media sites and media had gone apeshit over the leak. A certain document started circulating, a marriage license.

Tony Stark was married.

The only problem was, whoever had done it had blurred out his spouse’s name. Fic below the cut!

February 14, 2020.

A Friday night to remember since it was not only Valentine's Day but also the Stark Valentine's Charity ball.

Every year, Stark Industries would raise thousands and this year, it would be no different. Most likely, they'd be able to raise more than any other year previously since the spotlight had been on Tony for the past week.

An important document had been leaked.

A marriage license.

It came as a shock.

The social media sites and media had gone apeshit over the leak. A certain document started circulating, a marriage license.

Tony Stark was married.

The only problem was, whoever had done it had blurred out his spouse's name.

And so the paparazzi were on the hunt for a Mrs. or Mr. Stark only to find out Tony had taken a two week business trip.

False, they had discovered. The business trip was actually a honeymoon and the trail went cold until now.

Tony had managed to avoid them once he came back, no husband or wife in sight. That caused an even bigger commotion since it piqued everyone's curiosity. It was easy enough for Tony to remain unreachable, considering the man lived in the penthouse above Stark Industries.

It wasn't as easy for Peter though since he still lived in Queens with his aunt, but no one was all too interested in him. No one, except Tony.

Tony, who, despite Peter's insistence that he didn't need to be picked up, had arrived at his aunt's 5:30 on the dot. It wasn't unusual though since Tony was just spontaneous and hard to say no to.

Peter's boss and mentor sat beside him in the limo driving them to the event. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander over the man sitting beside him.

Tony Stark was aglow from all the sun he'd been enjoying and more than that, he was genuinely happy. The smile on his face said as much, a charming and almost dopey smile that not many were accustomed to seeing. Marital bliss suited the older man even if his smiles deepened the lines on his face.

To Peter, Tony has never looked so handsome.

He fidgeted in his seat, still not used to wearing the kind of attire that's required for these things.

Tony picked out his suit though, a cream-colored piece that only seemed to accentuate his slim but fit body. In contrast, the older man had worn a navy blue suit along with a very light, almost white, pink shirt. A rose was tucked into his shirt pocket and Peter smiled at the sight.

"The polls for the identity of Mrs. Stark is pretty funny," Tony mused as he scrolled through the media sites on his phone.

"Who's winning now?" Peter asked as he leaned closer to peek at his phone.

Pepper Potts's name was nowhere in the list but only because she had adamantly denied it from the very start. The paparazzi had also proven that Ms. Potts had been attending a company business while Tony had disappeared for his honeymoon.

"Who is that even…?" Peter laughed. "Natasha Romanoff…?"

Tony bumped his knee against his and chuckled.

"They got a hold of the guest list," Tony explained, "that's why she's jumped up in the polls."

Peter hummed but leaned back.

"Too bad the only person accompanying you is your protege," Peter said, knee bouncing as he scrolled through the list.

There was a separate poll for men, too, since Tony wasn't exactly shy about his preferences. Peter's heart skipped a beat when he saw his own there, listed near the very bottom at place number twenty-one out of twenty-five.

Warmth. Tony's hand settled on top of his bouncing knee. His wedding ring glinted in the light, a simple golden band with one studded diamond embedded inside.

"Breathe, kid," Tony instructed gently. "You sure you wanna do this? I know these public things aren't your scene."

Peter was anxious and it was obvious. He took a deep breath, stopped his fidgeting, and focused his runaway thoughts.

He knew that if he had said so right now that Tony would bring him home.

That, more than anything, was what had Peter returning the smile. It was a bit strained from the upcoming event, but it was there. He settled a hand over Tony's and felt the smooth, hard metal beneath his fingers. A gentle squeeze was given to show his appreciation.

"I can do this," Peter said and then corrected himself. "I want to do this."

"That's my spunky little intern," Tony smiled back at him.

"Not an intern anymore," Peter reminded him with a fond shake of his head.

He hasn't been an intern for almost two years and was expecting to take over as the R&D department manager of Stark Industries within the next six months.

And the relationship between him and Tony...

Tony grinned at the correction.

"Of course not. How do I keep forgetting?" Tony pretended to chide himself.

Peter was about to make a quip about his age but then the limo came to a stop at the entrance.

Outside, he saw the crowd of reports just waiting to catch a glimpse of Tony's spouse who they expected had ridden with him. He wondered how they'd react when they see just little old Peter Parker trailing after his boss.

Everyone was used to seeing Peter by Tony's side since he joined SI. Tony, himself, had called Peter his protégé, his next big project, the rising star of SI… the list of affectionate nicknames go on and on and has accumulated into a big pile of endearments.

Peter cherished each one.

"Knock 'em dead," was the last thing Tony said before they went to face the crowd.

The camera flashes were blinding. Even after two years of it, Peter still forgot to expect them until it was already too late and dots were dancing in his vision.

As expected of Tony Stark, he owned the audience's attention and smiled at every camera turned his way. Peter followed behind and was careful to keep away from the reporters.

No one was really interested in him since it was Tony that they wanted to get at.

Peter watched, amused, as Tony deflected every inquiry regarding his spouse that was thrown his way. This was a charity ball, after all, and the older man turned every question into answers that promoted and brought the attention back to the event in question.

Peter didn't know how he did it but it was a superpower he'd have to learn in the future.

The event area was decorated in a beautiful mess of Valentine's Day colors. The tables were set in white with stunning displays of bouquets. The roses were in full bloom, vibrant reds that popped out when surrounded by the more gentle pinks and whites of the surrounding flowers.

Crowds of people already sat at their tables, socializing and having a good time with wine being served.

It was a very large event and just standing there, taking it all in, Peter felt he could've easily lost himself in there. But then he felt a strong and familiar presence by his side and he turned, finding Tony right there beside him.

At that moment, the room could've been filled to capacity and Peter wouldn't have noticed anyone else besides Tony.

To him, it was obvious that he was in love with his boss. To others, maybe it wasn't as obvious since they liked to think of him as Tony's mini-me.

A lot of people also felt that they knew what Tony's feelings and thoughts were. It was easy to believe that since Tony was such an outspoken and outgoing person. He could talk on and on about something, injecting his insights and thoughts on a subject, and the listener would only have a glimpse of who Tony really was.

So, everyone thought that they knew Tony Stark because of his past reputation and his easy-going personality.

Then Tony did something like secretly getting married and people suddenly realized how very little they knew about him. They hadn't even known he was dating, let alone serious enough to pop the question.

They didn't see Tony the way Peter did, didn't know him the way Peter did so how could he blame them for being so oblivious?

Every smile Tony gave to others, he gave twice as many to Peter in darted glances and quick flashes. He always pulled Peter into the conversation and Peter wondered if others recognized just how often Tony spoke about him.

Maybe they did. Maybe they brushed it off.

That would change tonight.

Many had asked about the mysterious Mr. or Mrs. Stark. Curious eyes searched for Tony's spouse by his side and seemed to slip right over Peter. It didn't upset him at all. It made him happy that he was such a well recognized figure in Tony's life.

The money came pouring in for the charity and Tony gave them his dazzling smile. Appetizers were served, the guests' chatter dropping to low murmurs as they were served finger foods that could've easily replaced dinner with how generous it was.

A short speech was made and Tony looked so handsome with the mic in his hand and a bright gleam in his eye.

Peter, from his seat at the front table, could practically feel how the guests were hoping for Tony to introduce his spouse.

And like the tease Tony was, just shortly before concluding his speech, he had the audacity to say, "I know many of you are dying to meet my sweetheart." He gave the crowd a wink, "And it is Valentine's Day so it would make sense, huh?"

A pause as the crowd waited patiently or impatiently for the big reveal.

"But this ball isn't about me or my newly beloved, but we'll see if we can get some more surprises in by the end of the night. Dinner should be coming out shortly and then, we'll get to the fun part of the evening. Dancing!"

Tony rejoined the first table, completely at ease with his selected dinner mates. He flashed Peter a quick grin before he nudged his seat closer.

"What do you think? Will they be lucky enough?" Tony leaned in to ask.

Beneath the table, a warm hand settled on his knee, a reassuring weight. Peter had to fight to keep the smile from splitting across his face.

The whole dancing part of the event made him nervous and Tony had promised him that he didn't need to. Just thinking about it made his heart pound but when he looked at the older man, he felt it melt into a mess of goo and affection.

He subtly slipped his hand beneath the table, settling it above Tony's and gave it a squeeze.

"Maybe," he said with a faint smile.

They withdrew both their hands as the waiters came out and served dinner. The dinner SI provided for their guests was almost decadent. It warmed their bellies with good food and along with the alcohol from the open bar, laughter and smiles were being exchanged with ease.

The clatter of utensils working over near and veggies filled the room and the soft quiet conversations lulled as people ate.

And just as dinner was wrapping up, a familiar tune started to play. Peter glanced and Tony and found the man staring back at him, unabashed and grinning from ear to ear.

He returned it with an exasperated shake of his head, but when Tony held his hand out… Peter took it.

He was pulled from his seat and led onto the empty dance floor. The music swirled around them and the entire hall fell into a hush as more and more people noticed the pair on the floor.

Tony led Peter in a dance and it was there that everyone's eyes were finally opened to the truth.

The person they had been looking for all evening had been by Tony's side the entire time.

There was no doubt about it now, as the audience's eyes followed the pair. Fluid, graceful movements… Hand in hand, they swept across the dance floor, perfectly in sync in body, as well as mind.

It was undeniable, the tenderness that spread across Tony's face as he looked at Peter

Undeniable, when Peter smiled so sweetly at him.

They danced and danced and to Peter, it was like the entire hall disappeared. There was no one else but them and all the anxiety, all the doubts faded away as he looked into Tony's eyes.

They had taken a long path to get where they were today. What started as a simple, professional relationship slowly transformed into a quiet, but comfortable silence as they worked.

The silence became filled with chatter and once one started talking, the other would answer. Their quiet work hours became filled with laughter and scandalized jokes then with soft teasing. The hunger for each other's company grew until it spilled out of the lab and brought them together in movie theaters then quiet little evenings in Peter's apartment.

Their first kiss was a memory that made them both grin and laugh. A moment of spontaneity as Tony babbled on and on, a flush of excitement tinting his cheeks red. Then shocked silence as Peter shut him up with a press of his lips.

Do that again, Tony had dared and Peter hadn't backed down since. He'd done it countless times until they were both breathless from it.

Countless dates and secret smiles being exchanged at the office. I love you's being exchanged softly and meaningfully. Reverently. Then the ease in which those words came, each dropping it casually in their texts and whenever they parted. It didn't make those significant words any less meaningful. In fact, it only reaffirmed, over and over, how they felt about each other.

Months fast-forwarded and then Tony was kneeling in front of him, a black box in hand and Peter staring dumbly at him like he hadn't expected it at all. The mister to my Mr. Stark, Tony had casually said once upon a time and now… Now, the ring sat on Peter's fingers, a quiet but unbreakable declaration.

All those memories whirled around them as they danced. The ease in which they trusted one another was obvious. The love they had was now glaringly obvious, as obvious as the beautiful sparkle that Peter's diamond ring gave off, a perfect mirror to Tony's wedding band.

And when the song came to an end, Tony's mic turned on. That voice that Peter has heard whispering love into his ears come on the speakers, breathless from excitement and exertion.

"I don't need to make introductions," Tony said while looking into Peter's eyes. "You all know who he is." -- Thank you to our wonderful artists and writer who participated in the first Starker Games!

#Starker #Starker Fanart #Starker Fanfic #PeterxTony #TonyxPeter #Starker Games

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perriewinklenerdie · 5 years ago

Text

Night like this (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! I am so stuck in uni stuff that life is something I do in between classes. That means, that I don’t really get many chances to write… but when I do, I try :D

This is another one of the requests, send by a lovely Nonnie. Thank you so much, hope you like it <3

The request was sharing the bed for Ethan and MC and, well, it got my brain working again :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006350

Enjoy! <3

---------

Naveen made a promise to himself. A promise to use all the time he had to take care of people closest to him, to help them and make sure they didn’t waste their time. The very first thing he decided to do after coming back to health was to organize weekends at his house. Once a month, he invited Ethan and Claire to stay with him, eat dinner, stay the night and see the morning by the water.

Both of them always agreed, with Ethan driving both them there and back to Boston. Ever since they both came back to the hospital, their relations haven’t been the easiest. The struggle to work and take care of their patients as best as they could, while trying to get over their lingering feelings was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do. Judging by the haunted look in her eyes when their gazes met across the room told him that it was hard for her too.

The atmosphere in the car wasn’t as tense this time. They both knew there were times in which they couldn’t say a word to the other without falling apart. That was not a case this time, though, cause the conversation was flowing so freely that they turned the music down, and then turned it off completely. The past week was hard and the mere thought of a weekend off was enough to make up for it.

“Did you see the face of that intern when you yelled? I must say, Rookie, I didn’t expect you to be able to do this.” he laughed, looking over to her for a split second before returning his eyes to the road.

“I’m taking care of your throat, so that you can talk normally. To your patients, to Naveen, to me… And what can I say, I had a great teacher when it comes to dealing with stubborn interns.” Claire teased, reaching over to pat his arm slightly, sending a trail of sparks up his hand and down her fingers.

“Not sure if I should be proud or offended.” He cleared his throat before responding, his grip on the steering wheel tightening a little.

“Definitely both.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to hold this against you. It’s been a long week, you’re tired and perfectly entitled to react that way. Just… a little secret…” he leaned towards her, keeping his eyes on the road, beckoning her closer to him. They met halfway through over the control panel, his breath brushing against the skin of her cheek as he spoke “… don’t do this too often or people will think that I have a bad influence on you.”

“People already think you have too big of an influence on me. Most of them are jealous, though. Or, at least, that’s what Naveen says.” She concluded, shrugging slightly.

“You’re talking to Naveen about me?”

“Oh, all the time. A few more of those conversations with him and I’ll know everything about you.” she spoke, gauging his reaction. As expected, alarm flashed in his blue irises, two lines appearing above his eyes. Almost as though she didn’t think about what she was doing, she reached once again, smoothing the skin on his forehead tenderly. His breath caught in his throat so briefly that she almost missed it. “Don’t worry about it, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Sorry to break this to you, Rookie, but I already have wrinkles.” Their conversation morphed from being loose to being a playful banter, and he couldn’t say he minded. He didn’t. She was the only person that could bring out that side of him, make him forget about the cruelty and unforgiveness of the outside world.

“And they are incredibly attractive.”

Ethan didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew that she found him appealing, that much he could figure out from their time together. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t find think she was beautiful. But they were not in the position to speak about it, no matter how much they wanted to shout about it.

The rest of the ride went by with both of them steering away from the difficult subject. Naveen’s house came into the view and they both breathed a sigh of relief. He greeted them with a wide smile and cups of hot wine, as the temperature outside dropped, snow falling from the sky, covering the ground in a thick layer. Ethan carried their bags inside, refusing to let Claire do it on her own. Leaving it by the wall in the living room, he joined her and Naveen in the kitchen.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit. You two can prepare the table… and now I feel like a parent, talking to his kids.” Naveen joked, looking between them, then pointing towards the table.

Their moves were synchronized, in perfect harmony, as though they have been doing this together for years, understanding each other without words. Food made its way onto the table shortly after. Ethan pulled out her chair for her, helping her sit down before joining her and Naveen to eat. His fingers brushed against her shoulders, another round of sparks shooting right through them. Naveen noticed. Of course he did, but he chose to keep quiet, at least for the time being.

Evening turned into the night, alcohol making them just a little bolder, and conversations were moving through diverse subjects. Laughter filled the air, voices were raised with emotions and some tears were falling down their cheeks in hysteric fit of giggles.

“I can’t believe you told her that.” Ethan exclaimed, pretending to be hurt. Claire laughed, falling against him, her forehead pressed against his arm, her body shaking.

“She is just really persuasive.”

“I just offered to trade information.” She raised her hands in mocked defense. Ethan turned to look at her, his fingers itching to brush the lock of hair from her face. It was most likely alcohol that made him do it, his touch lingering a little longer than it should. Alcohol, or at least that’s what he told himself.

“And what exactly sis you offer?”

“A story of your heroic poker game in Miami.” Her voice wavered a little at the end, her mind flooded with memories. Ethan shifted in his chair uncomfortably, his body reacting at the mention of the first apex of his feelings for her. It felt like he has known her forever, when in reality, the night in Miami happened only a few months ago. He shook his head in disbelief.

“Seriously, Rookie, you’re walking on very thin ice.” He muttered under his breath and she scoffed, swatting his arm slightly.

“Oh, please, there are far worse things I could have said. Like that time when we broke into the-“ she started speaking, but before any words could expose them, he pressed his hand to her lips, his eyes telling her to be quiet. Naveen laughed, a small hint of an idea about just what happened between the two already forming in his head.

“You two are acting like kids.”

Both of them turned towards him, then looked at each other, leaning away like they got burned. Another laugh escaped Naveen’s lips as he clapped his hands.

“We’re not kids. It’s just… complicated.” Ethan mused, refusing to look at Claire again.

“Oh, I know. And I also know that you two are about to act like even bigger kids when I tell you, that my other guest room is in renovation, the couch is gone, as you can see, and that means that you two are sleeping in the same bed tonight.”

The room got so quiet that the pin dropping to the ground would be loud. Ethan turned to look at Claire with an uncertain look in his eyes, checking in with her. She seemed to be just as lost, and before either could say anything to the older doctor, he snickered, tapping his hand against the table, wished them a good night and left them alone.

“Do you-“ he started speaking, only to be immediately stopped by her.

“Don’t even think about it, Ramsey.”

Suddenly, they were sober, no trace of intoxication present. Both acutely aware of the situation they were in. Both fighting, with all they had, to keep their feelings at bay, to not fall right back to where they were. Ethan put on his mask, shielding himself from her, and she seemed to be doing exactly the same. Despite them both being friendly just seconds ago, the change in the balance caused them to put their defenses up.

The room was dark, the covers of the bed made and ready for them to get to sleep. Claire went into the bathroom without saying a word of even so much as looking at him, leaving Ethan by himself. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as all the air left his body, making him feel empty. He knew it was his idea to stay away from each other, and playful banter and harmless flirting didn’t do any harm, but this was different. They were about to spend the night together, in the same bed, with nowhere to hide or run, and it terrified him. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to fight. Truth be told, he didn’t know what he wanted. All he knew was that he couldn’t bring himself to forget her and move on, she was just that potent to him, in every way possible. She got him addicted to her, and he didn’t want to go to rehab.

By the time she got out of the bathroom, he was already in bed, his chest bare, his body covered by the covers. Their eyes met for a split second before she looked away, laying down next to him, keeping as much distance between them as she could. The last light was turned off, the complete darkness accompanied the silence of the room.

He could feel her breathing, hear her breathing. The air was cold, the late November having its toll on the temperature in the room. He felt a shiver run through his body as he pulled on the covers to keep warm. Some tugging came from the side, but he didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Could you please not pull all the covers to your side? I’m cold too, you know.” She spoke with a low voice, no emotions except for annoyance.

“I have no idea what you mean, you have plenty of covers.” He responded without opening his eyes, lying on his back. She scoffed but didn’t say another word.

A few minutes went by and he thought she fell asleep. Nothing could have been further from the truth. All of a sudden, she moved, throwing the covers up from his body and positioning herself on top of him, her head in the crook of his neck, her hands moving the covers over both of them.

“Rookie, what the hell are you doing?” he exclaimed, keeping his hands away from her, not sure what to do.

“Maybe you’re not aware, but you stole all the blankets, and the night is cold. I tried to pull some back, but you didn’t budge, and I was not about to die of hypothermia. You either take it as it is, or you let me have more blankets.”

He hesitated. He knew he should have told her to move, told her he’d give her the blankets, all of them if she wanted. But he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady against his chest, their body heat mixing, warming them up more than any blankets ever could on their own. He waited for her to react, waited for her to say anything, but she didn’t comment on it either, just fell deeper into his embrace.

The room was silent again, the only sounds were their breathing. Time slowed down, dragging mercilessly as he tried to fall asleep, but couldn’t seem to do it. He was too stressed, too awake, too distracted by her to focus on sleeping. Sudden movement made him all the more alert, the slightest of touches, a whisper of her fingertips on his chest. His breath got caught in his throat for a split second, his muscles tensing.

“Rookie.” He tried asking her what this was about, but didn’t get any answer.

“Rookie?” his voice gained a concerned edge, his grip on her tightening ever so slightly.

“Rookie-“

Her head snapped upwards as his head fell down, their eyes locking. Their lips were mere inches away from each other and the atmosphere got hot, intense. He heard her gasp softly, surprise spelled on her face. He thought about what he should do, what was the right thing to do, but everything was thrown out the window when her eyes dropped to his lips for just a second. This time, he didn’t hesitate.

His lips caught hers in a kiss that took his breath away, their eyes still locked. He stilled his movements, giving her a chance to back out. Except, she didn’t. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling on it as she dived into the kiss. Ethan’s arms wound around her tighter, his palms spread flat across her back, pressing her closer.

“Ethan… Ethan, wait… Ethan…” she tried talking but was stopped by his lips every time, making them laugh. She dug her hands into his sides, tickling him, making him let out a sound that bordered on a shriek.

“What is it?” he breathed heavily, nuzzling his nose against the line of her jaw. She smoothed his hair, brushing a lock out of his eyes.

“Nothing, just… what is this? What are we doing?” Claire asked, looking past and through all the layers of excuses and worthless words that didn’t hold any meaning to them. There they were, bare and with nothing to protect them from harm, asking for trust and willing to give that trust back.

“I- I don’t know. I don’t know who I am anymore. Everything I believed in changed when I met you. And I don’t want to go back to who I was before. All I know is that you are here, with me, and it couldn’t possibly be better.” He confessed, speaking the words that have been stuck in his head for the past couple of months, created in his mind during long, sleepless nights, after waking up from another dream about her. His voice was warm and soft, vulnerable and delicate, engulfing her like a blanket.

“Ethan…” she tried speaking, but her words betrayed her, leaving emptiness. Everything was lost, the only thing that stayed was him, everything he was to her. Everything he could be for her.

Claire pulled him back into her, kissing him like she wanted to do so many times. Rolling over, she pulled him on top of her, her arms wrapping around his neck, laughing as he stumbled a little, supporting himself with his elbow. The kiss was lighthearted and playful, slowly climbing towards something more. That kiss carried them into the darkness of the night, a beginning to many more, with the unknown and many more nights just like this one ahead of them.

------------

Tag list: @paleweasels, @lilyofchoices, @hopelessromantic1352, @aloehasrose, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer, @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @yesimacerealkiller, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h,

#ethan ramsey #choices #open heart #fic #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #mc x ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #choices stories you play #playchoices

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psychopersonified · 5 years ago

Text

Three Little Words

Post Are we ever going to talk about this? and Where was the wooing? (AO3)

Highly recommended to read the series first to get emotionally invested in their story arc. This short piece will feel a lot more satisfying once you know their backstory. But you can still read this as a stand alone.

Mallory cottons on and worries, Bond tries bubble tea (sorry, I couldn't resist), very important words that haven't been said are said...

Tags: Sharing food, some groping, newly established relationship, humour, fluff with feeling, tiny mention of PTSD, minor hurt/comfort.

-------------

London, Air Street - Hawksmoor

They arrived together, Mallory was sure of it. He knows because he saw them leave their Vauxhall HQ together. What was even more unexpected was that 007 was in the passenger seat of Q’s red Hyundai at the time. Rumours abound about those two; but M had chosen to ignore them up to now for the sake of his own sanity. Sorting fact from fiction would take up all his time. Even Q’s new car was subject to gossip - some preposterous story about it being a gift from 007.

However, now partway through the evening of Agent 008’s retirement party at a seafood and steak restaurant on Air Street - Mallory can’t ignore the rumours any longer.

Moneypenny had organised the event, booking out the entire floor of the glamorous art deco restaurant. Dark wood panelling matched with emerald green upholstery and decorated with gold accents, it oozed perfectly understated style. 150 or so people were invited, all part of the MI6 community with more or less direct involvement in the Double-0 Program. So practically everyone knows everyone, making it a safe and comfortable setting to let loose a little. Which might be why M is noticing behaviours that were not usually on display within the SIS building among general population.

Which brings M back to his observation. The pair is ensconced in one of the semi circle booths with Eve, Jenny, Mark and Dr Chen. Bond is seated on the outer edge, an arm slung casually over the back of the booth with the Quartermaster sitting much close than propriety would deem necessary - practically nestled in the crook of the agent’s arm. They are laughing along and joining in free flowing conversation with the other occupants of their table and generally having a good time.

No one on the table appears to find the unusually close proximity odd. In fact no one in the entire party seems to have given their behaviour a second glance except for Mallory.

As the evening progressed, M sees more and more that worries him. He’d caught them sharing food, eating right off each other’s plates. Bond cutting bits off his steak and setting the pieces aside for Q to pick off. Even offering Q his red wine, chosen specially to pair with the steak, holding it up to his nose for a sniff. Then instead of getting the server to pour a new glass, he just lets Q drink from his, keeping the glass between them throughout the main course.

Then there was the seafood pasta, and the utter ridiculousness of it. Q eats half of it and hands it over, cutlery and all for Bond to finish. The agent obliges without hesitation, and couldn’t be bothered to get a fresh set of cutlery.

At one point the young quartermaster places a hand on 007’s thigh to draw his attention. Bond is immediately attentive, pausing to lean close so Q can whisper something privately. Whatever Q says makes him nod and smile.

M panics internally, perhaps he’s been ignoring the rumours for too long and wonders if it might be too late to do something about it now. Alec making his way round a willing secretarial pool is one thing, but this does not look ‘no strings attached’. However on the plus side, 007 has been a lot more manageable lately.

Sure, he still had problems with authority and argues incessantly about his orders, then goes off improvising his missions and continues to destroy things that he shouldn’t have… BUT he hasn’t gone dark for a while now - regularly checking in with HQ before he decides to execute a high risk strategy. Not for approval mind you, just to let them know where they might recover his body… which is a step up considering his track record. And he hasn’t absconded in a while, always returning to London immediately once the job is done, without MI6 needing to use the threat of arrest as motivation.

If whatever this is between them is the root of the behavioural change in 007, then taking it away is a sure way of inciting rebellion. Considering their combined skillsets, it would be impudent to underestimate them. However, should the relationship sour, it would cause a whole set of other problems. It puts M in quite a bit of a conundrum. How long has this been going on and why hasn’t Psych highlighted this.

—

“How are you with driving?” Q asks as he holds up the coat for Bond after retrieving it from the coat check

“Still good,” the agent answers as he slips his arms into the coat.

“Excellent, because I’m decidedly not.” Q declares, emphasis on the T in the ‘not’. Bond can tell, Q’s a little giggly and handsier than usual. And he’s had to help Q down the stairs from the first floor restaurant.

“Keys?” Bond asks as he turns around to return the favour, helping Q into his jacket and scarf.

“Left poc— *yawn*—ket” Q yawns midway though his answer, using his hands to cover his mouth as Bond dips a hand into his trouser pocket from behind to fish for the car keys.

Once they dispense with the goodbyes to those lingering in the lobby, they head out. Q’s car is parked in an hourly garage a short walk away.

—

Unknown to the pair, their little interaction was overheard by Mallory and Tanner.

M turns to Tanner, levelling him with a serious look, “Those two, I want to know what’s going on. How serious is it?”

“Sir?” Tanner hesitates, then smiles tightly, unsure if the next thing he says will get the pair in trouble, “Fairly serious…”

“Why wasn’t I told?” M huffs annoyed, though more at himself than anyone.

Tanner looks genuinely perplexed, “Sir?… I believe there was a general assumption that you knew? And because you haven’t reprimanded them that you were willing to… look the other way?”

Mallory sighs, “So the rumour about the car is true then?”

“Ah... yes. They’ve also been seen coming and going from HQ together whenever Bond is in London.”

“Ahh… shit.” M sounds resigned.

“What are you going to do sir? You’re not going to stop them are you?” Tanner’s looks like someone just kicked his puppy. He wants to add -that would be beyond cruel-.

“I can’t very well do that anymore can I? Not if it’s that serious. Not if 007 has found his reason to keep himself alive.” Mallory knows first hand what that psychological incentive can do for men and women in their line of work.

“I want to talk to Dr Epstein next week. If I’m going to allow this, I want to know what I’m getting into and how we can make sure this stays to our advantage.”

“Yes sir.”

——————————-

London, Knightsbridge - Saturday

The garishly colourful interior is the first thing that strikes him as they enter. Pastel primary colours splashed everywhere. Next is the crowd; they are both much older than the average customer with Bond likely being 20yrs senior than most everyone including the staff.

The menu is a cheery if confusing list of options. The drinks equally colourful, befitting the kindergarten decor. He lets Q place an order on his behalf, because otherwise he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“What is this place?” Bond asks when Q is done placing their needlessly complicated order.

“It’s called bubble tea, because of the toppings you can have them add to your drink. I’m told it’s a cultural phenomenon sweeping the student scene.” Q explains.

“How do you even know about this?”

“Marcus introduced us to it. He has the whole of Q-Branch hooked on this. It’s become a Friday night Cyberwar games staple. Bubble tea, fried chicken and curry,” he updates Bond.

“I see Agent Park has been busy giving all of you diabetes.” Bond remarks rather unkindly.

Agent Marcus Park is the new 008, the latest recruit and by that token the youngest in the current lineup of Double-0s. Dripping with cool, savvy with social media current affairs - he’d quickly ingratiated himself with the boffins in Q-Branch who were mostly around the his age.

In the short time since he’s arrived, Marcus has managed to affect the culture and language in Q-Branch. He’s even developed some idiotic ‘special’ handshake that everyone was keen to get in on - officially making him the coolest agent and everyone’s new favourite. So if Agent Park says bubble tea is cool, then officially, it’s cool.

All this annoyed Bond more than he cared to admit because it meant Marcus spent more time in Q-Branch than any of the other agents save himself. Aside from his early faux pas of mistakenly using Q’s mug (which 008 has since learned NOT to because no one in Q-Branch liked that), what Bond particularly disliked was Park taking up -his- sofa in the lounge. He can tolerate 008 swanning about the place, but draws the line at the sofa. Every time he sees the upstart stretched across it, he gets an irrational flare of temper.

Q smiles indulgently at him, aware of the minor quarel between the two agents, “Oh don’t be jealous James. Besides, it’s better than the horrid energy drinks.” Their order comes up then and Q goes to collect it.

When Q gets back, Bond is presented with a monstrously large Roasted Oolong Milk Tea with tapioca pearl toppings, half sugar and one-third ice. The drink comes with a supersized straw whereby he is expected to siphon out the dubiously coloured pearls resting at the bottom of the cup (why they are called toppings when they sink is question for another time). Bond isn’t a particularly picky eater, he can’t be for survival - so he’s open to trying anything. He’s not impressed, still a too sweet and far too milky for his liking, and he could have done without the weirdly chewy pearls that had a tendency to get stuck in his teeth.

“How’s your tea? Feeling hip with the crowd yet?” Q pokes, waiting for his response.

Bond gives his verdict on the tea then the establishment, “…. but these stools are incredibly uncomfortable. And the height of these tables; ridiculous. My hip joints are aching.” Bond grouses. Also the excited high pitched chatter of the other patrons, is starting to give him a headache.

Halfway through, Bond switches drinks - curious about Q’s pale green Honeydew Melon Tea with black herbal jelly, three-quarter sugar and half ice. The drink is interesting, lighter than the tea, but the texture and taste of the soft slightly medicinal jelly takes some getting used to.

Inexplicably, Bond feels his mood start to slip, “What are they nattering on about?” Bond pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head in the direction of the largest and noisiest group.

Every so often, one of them would explode with shrill laughter that was closer to a hysterical scream than anything resembling normal mirth. It was grating on his nerves in more was than one. God, when did children get so annoying?

Q shrugs, looking up from an incoming notification on his phone. He’s not really caught up on pop culture himself. What a pair they made - the basement geek and his curmudgeon. Q returns to his phone and the unusual forwarded notification from the Smart Blood implant. One of the agents is experiencing a spike in heart rate not associated with any physical activity ::Agent 007::.

Bond takes sip of his drink, expression still pinched. Another teen suddenly wails like a banshee about to be murdered before peeling off into laughter. Q is about to show him the readout from the app when in a surprise move, Bond reaches out to take Q’s hands in his.

The agent shifts seats to sit alongside Q. He then gathers him close, the entire length of their sides, from shoulder to knee pressed together - before burying his nose in Q’s temple and taking a deep breath. Despite Bond’s penchant for peacocking himself, as a couple they’re not one for flagrant public displays of affection, so the unusual move sends Q’s mind ticking with concern.

There is a slight tremor that runs through Bond, muscles twitching, not quite relaxed as it should - a precursor to fight or flight perhaps. It triggers Q’s memory, something in 007’s psych file as with most of the Double-0s; a mention about higher risk of experiencing PTSD - and it clicks. The screaming teens were enough to send a fright through normal people, how must it feel like for a veteran of violence like Bond.

Q squeezes back in understanding, “Let’s get out of here shall we? These kids are giving me a headache.”

“Excellent suggestion,” Bond agrees without hesitation, pulling Q along as he gets up. They retrieve their shopping and drinks, and head out into the open air.

Once outside, Bond starts to cheer up significantly but nevertheless, he clings to Q with a tight arm around the shoulder. Q reciprocates with an arm around Bond’s waist; letting him know that he’s there and he understands; without coddling the agent or challenging his ego.

Occasionally Bond would slow their pace, the hand clutching Q’s shoulder would shift to stroke the back of his head, pulling Q close to nuzzle his hair - always taking deep slow breaths. They meander around Knightsbridge before Q suggests taking a turn inside The Natural History Museum. By the time their walk takes them there, Bond is for the most part back to normal.

Q had always loved the natural history museum. The large echoey stone galleries, the ornate architecture and of course the prehistoric displays in their modern glass cases. The hushed space provides Bond with some respite to recover as well.

They wander around aimlessly for the first twenty minutes - Q steering them down one gallery after another, providing soothing commentary about one display or another and Bond was happy just to tag along stuck to his side.

But at the first deserted corner they find, Bond unexpectedly jerks him close - sending Q colliding into a wall of muscle. The kiss that follows is deep, emotionally brimming with gratitude and affection. The hand that’s buried in his hair and roaming his back is not salacious but reverential. The kiss lasts an eternity. When they part, they are both breathless - noses and mouths rubbed pink.

Bond steals several more brief kisses after that before looking Q right in the eye. What he says next, floors Q. In a venerated whisper, James declares with every fibre of his being, “I love you.”

It’s the first time either of them has said it. They’ve made it this far into their dizzying convoluted dance, circling one another with playful oblique references to their relationship without ever once saying these words. They’re living together now for christssake!

Q reaches up to cradle Bond’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking the craggy cheeks and worn crows feet around the eyes. “Likewise…,” Q thinks to leave it at that, but it feels like he’d be shortchanging something so significant. So he pulls Bond in for another deep kiss and mumbles against his mouth, ”I love you, I love you, I love you”.

Simple. Uncomplicated. Love.

When they part again, the gallery isn’t deserted anymore. An elderly couple had wandered in and was nearby, viewing the exhibit they were standing adjacent to. Bond bends down to collect their shopping bags. Q smiles apologetically at the couple as he tries to make himself presentable again.

“No worries dear. I remember how it was like on our honeymoon,” the lady tells him with a wink.

Honey-what-now?! That catches Q completely off guard. Did he just miss another milestone? Q nods awkwardly just as Bond tugs on his hand, “Uh… Please excuse us.”

—

Outside again and the street is awash with light as the sun peeks out from behind a bank of clouds. Bond is back to normal, without a trace of his earlier vulnerability. But he does continue to rest an arm on Q’s shoulder.

They decide to walk home. Unhurried, just enjoying each other, not a care in the world, even if it was just for the afternoon. Strolling along the streets, window shopping until dinnertime, before popping into a restaurant close to home.

Bond spies a discarded bubble tea cup as they pass by a street bin and is reminded of Marcus.

“Do me a favour? Could you kick Park out of the lab once in a while?”

That earns him a sarcastic reply, “Oh yes, because I’ve been highly successful at kicking agents out so far. Besides, on what grounds?”

“He’s taking up my sofa,” Bond grumbles petulantly.

“Hardly grounds for expulsion. And it’s not your sofa. If anyone has the right to be upset, it should be me. That was my kip out sofa before the two of you decided to install your arses on it.”

“Ahh… so its -our- sofa then. He has no business being there.” Bond looks for a loophole he can exploit, “Surely sleeping with the Quartermaster has its perks?”

“You’re a right bastard you know that?” Q admonishes. “Besides, you sleeping with the quartermaster is precisely why I can’t kick him out.”

Bond still doesn’t get it so Q has to spell it out for him, “Haven’t you noticed that Marcus is sweet on Jenny? I can’t kick him out or I’ll be accused of double-standards.”

“Huh… Is he now?” Blonde eyebrows climb to the hairline in surprise, “And how does she feel about him?“

“We’re not sure yet. She went out with him a couple of times. But then just this Friday, she threw a half drunk cup of bubble tea in his face. At the moment she thinks he’s a bit of a prick… I can understand exactly how she feels,” Q looks over at Bond pointedly.

James grins unashamed, “M is really going to love this development.”

Q hums in agreement, “Hmm… if she files a complaint against him, I suspect M will put a moratorium on Double-0s dating Q-Branch techs.”

A thoughtful smile spreads across James’s face, “Well then, I suppose we’d better set a good example.”

——FIN——

Notes: If you liked this story, there’s more on the blog or AO3. Please like, reblog, comment etc. Enjoy!

#00Q #00q fanfiction #00q fic #q #quartermaster

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geejaysmith · 6 years ago

Photo

Kat and I have amazing conversations sometimes and I felt they had to be shared. Also, alienfuckers, dad jokes, Maxwell’s alternative lifestyle and other headcanons, and Ace Attorney: Doug Eiffel edition. Full transcript under the cut.

Gill [Yesterday at 6:05 PM]: On an Unrelated topic: after the finale the crew remembers "OH YEAH, EIFFEL ACTUALLY HAD A FACE-TO-FACE CONVERSATION WITH ALIENS" and now in addition to all the other reasons to want him to Remember they're really freakin' curious to know how that went

Kat [Yesterday at 6:11 PM]: Minkowski: so what did they look like Eiffel: me (They do seem to like his body, they had a few models to choose from when talking to Cutter.)

Gill [Yesterday at 6:13 PM]: Eiffel, probably: at least the aliens think I'm cool I know what was meant by that but your phrasing made me think "In a shocking turn of events, it is the aliens who are attracted to the human." The aliens... are alienfuckers

Kat [Yesterday at 6:17 PM]: I don't think that's their jam but that WOULD be just his luck

Gill [Yesterday at 6:18 PM]: It is unlikely, but also: it would be hilarious

Kat [Yesterday at 6:21 PM]: the aliens keep sending me mental sexts and i crave death

Gill [Yesterday at 6:22 PM]: And lo another shitpost transforms into a fanfic concept, like a humble irradiated lizard becoming Godzilla: "would you fuck your clone?"

Kat [Yesterday at 6:28 PM]: leave him alone has the man not suffered enough

Gill [Yesterday at 6:28 PM]: No

Kat [Yesterday at 6:29 PM]: sigh

Gill [Yesterday at 6:29 PM]: Dance for my amusement, Douglas And also because I earnestly suspect that in the case of Eiffel and an interested alien-consciousness-in-the-form-of-a-Xerox-copy-of-him the answer would end up being "yes"

Kat [Yesterday at 6:34 PM]: idk i feel like it'd be more like "Oh what you spend two fucking years trying to drag us into the star because you can't be assed to make an appearance but you'll teleport across the galaxy for a booty call? Fuck you and I mean that figuratively" later sluts

Gill [Yesterday at 6:36 PM]: Bob is a bad datemate Is this entire train of thought brought on by the fact I still think of the person who expressed they shipped Bob/Eiffel in the tags of the "Take your double to Disneyland" post? Perhaps

Kat [Yesterday at 6:39 PM]: i don't know that you can have this at the same time as 'what if the aliens' bodies are still the people suppressed' without it getting Fucked Up but that's your perogative I guess as long as I don't have to hear about it family can't walk w me tonight so i need to hit the treadmill for a bit. ttyl

Gill [Yesterday at 6:41 PM]: See u in a bit! But ah yes, I hadn't thought of that til you brought it up Points at one explanation of Dear Listener manifestations for some ideas, points at a different explanation for ideas that would become unintentionally Pretty Fucked Up under the first explanation Although there is comedy potential to be found in Eiffel and Eiffel-2 having the "are we down with this" conversation In the /Justin McElroy voice, "someone just discovered they have ~the world's worst fetish~" sense

Kat [Yesterday at 7:33 PM]: a different terrible concept: eiffel with his pop culture references restored will likely be called upon to testify at the united nations

Gill [Yesterday at 7:37 PM]: O h g o d Ace Attorney: Doug Eiffel edition

Kat [Yesterday at 7:46 PM]: i mean they're gonna have to tell the world SOMEHOW and i'd think the international court would want to know and he's the one with the subconscious recall implanted sidenote if the DL can do that mental transfer could they have just... asked them to reupload whatever their most recent scan of eiffel was there are so many ways around this that's why it failed to get much of an emotional rxn from me

Gill [Yesterday at 7:47 PM]: Minkowski and Lovelace trying to get him to practice his testimony bc if they hit enough subconscious recall triggers they can at LEAST get thru an explanation of the aliens without Eiffel going off into a tangent Once they're off the Dear Listeners' script though all bets are off

Kat [Yesterday at 7:48 PM]: here's a list of preplanned questions your honor we're not responsible if you ask anything else

Gill [Yesterday at 7:51 PM]: Eiffel, maybe: now Goddard didn't send up us there to bring home any xenomorphs but let me tell you, with the Decima project? They might as WELL have let a facehugger get up close and personal with me The translators rapidly swapping notes on late 70's sci-of cinema because a handful of them actually know what he's talking about

Kat [Yesterday at 7:54 PM]: Minkowski headdesking behind him Eiffel English isn't most of these people's first languages

Gill [Yesterday at 7:57 PM]: The news cameras are all dead-focused on Eiffel. He's hit his stride and is picking up steam. "And it was right around the time I was coughing up my liquefied respiratory system that I thought to myself, gee, I'd MUCH rather get a face of alien wing-wong than deal with this!" Minkowski is off to the side. She is visibly restraining herself. No poker face in the world can hide how hard she is longing for death. Whether it is hers or Eiffel's is a subject of contentious debate.

Kat [Yesterday at 7:58 PM]: someone at an elementary school: hey Garcia, is that your dad

Gill [Yesterday at 8:01 PM]: Anne, who was four the last time she saw her father in person, gets one look at the man weaving an intricate Star Wars metaphor out of crimes against humanity and recognizes him instantly, but signs back "I have never seen this guy before in my life."

Kat [Yesterday at 8:04 PM]: good call kiddo

============

Gill [Yesterday at 8:10 PM]: Honestly I love the concept that no matter how much Eiffel may drive them up the wall sometimes the rest of the crew would meet Anne and immediately be ready to kill a man for her sake

Kat [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: as far as we know he's the only crewmember with kids women in the military... it wouldn't be easy even if you wanted one, which idk if any of them did

Gill [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: Wait wait, brainwave: it is actually AMAZING that Minkowski had no idea Eiffel had a child because... does he seem like the kind of guy. Who would ever resist a Dad Joke.

Kat [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: haha fair

Gill [Yesterday at 8:16 PM]: Eiffel: Actually, I have amazing self-restraint when I choose to exercise it. (Various noises of disbelief.) Eiffel: have you ever heard me tell a dad joke? No? I rest my case

Kat [Yesterday at 8:21 PM]: biggest plot hole of the series more like it was too painful a memory but still

Gill [Yesterday at 8:22 PM]: If he ever patches that connection it'll open the floodgates

Kat [Yesterday at 8:26 PM]: He'll become the Maes Hughes of the gang, except with fewer war crimes

Gill [Yesterday at 8:27 PM]: ...has anyone on this crew done war crimes? SI-5 excepted of course, they have obviously done war crimes

Kat [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: yeah SI5 is war crime central I'm not sure about some of the other stuff executing a prisoner? idk about Minkowski

Gill [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: Also my thought

Kat [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: she wasn't a formal pow though it was an ongoing engagement I don't know the rules

Gill [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: Minkowski Has Done One (1) War Crime (Goddard Futuristics attempts to bring that against her in the court case only for Maxwell to stroll in like lol what's up gang)

Kat [Yesterday at 8:37 PM]: does Goddard in its current incarnation last long enough to sue anyone i mean i think you could sue them for attempted genocide

Gill [Yesterday at 8:38 PM]: Look I have had one semester of business law You were the one who almost went to law school Also re: other characters being parents, the only one I could see going kiiiinda either way on the subject is Lovelace and it wouldn't have been terribly high on her priority list prior to the Hephaestus mission I can see characters having the opinion that they could see Minkowski as a mom but she and her husband both strike me as understanding themselves and one another as being more career-oriented

Kat [Yesterday at 8:44 PM]: yeah if she wanted to rise in the ranks of the military... that would probably be a strike against her

Gill [Yesterday at 8:44 PM] And the implication she's got a Complex about her parents having both left promising careers to raise her Also, Lovelace: Well I always said I could see myself settling down someday, maybe have a family if I met the right person, but when I took the job with Goddard it was legally dubious whether I could actually do that- Eiffel: Because you're an alien? Eiffel: Eiffel: ...wait a sec

Kat [Yesterday at 8:54 PM]: ha It's ok to be gay in space

Gill [Yesterday at 8:56 PM]: Alternatively it's Hera who said that bc didn't connect those dots right away, meanwhile Eiffel saw Lovelace in a flannel shirt once and Knew Immediately Eiffel may be dumb but somehow his Bi-Fi has yet to fail him

Kat [Yesterday at 8:59 PM]: Hera doesn't grasp human sexuality nuances

Gill [Yesterday at 9:01 PM]: Funny addition to above thought: Eiffel put together that Jacobi was gay after like three days on the Urania, was the only one on the Hephaestus crew to do so, and just never felt it was relevant to bring up Hera, my child... you have much to learn (Also, Hera, probably: I'm experimenting at the moment, I'm looking for a torrent so I can download lesbianism)

Kat [Yesterday at 9:04 PM]: I don't know which option is funnier, that Jacobi is just Really Fucking Obvious but Eiffel was the only one paying attention or that it was super subtle and everyone's like How Did You Do That lovelace's righteous fury overwhelmed her gaydar, she was too mad to go 'same hat'

Gill [Yesterday at 9:07 PM]: Eiffel: I have something to confess to all of you... Jacobi: Eiffel literally not a single person on this ship is straight Eiffel: Oh I was just going to recount a PG version of my wild younger days, let's just say I know a thing or two because I've seen a thing or two.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:07 PM]: Jacobi on Earth: Just matched with myself on Grinder a-fucking-GAIN

Gill [Yesterday at 9:10 PM]: Jacobi: Oh I definitely picked up on it but who wants to go playing into stereotypes by speculating on what may or may not be a promiscuous history? Eiffel: Promiscuous? Look I've got notches in my belt but mostly I just ended up laying in somebody's bathtub at a house party while just conscious enough to nod along to someone else's relationship drama. Eiffel: to several sororities, I was the Gay Bathtub Wizard.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:11 PM]: Maxwell on day one of orientation: So if SI5 is paramilitary what's their stance on alternative lifestyles? Jacobi: I was recruited in a gay bar.

Gill [Yesterday at 9:12 PM]: Her asking the question has my brain going in several different directions

Kat [Yesterday at 9:13 PM]: I think she was recruited right after dadt was repealed... if obama exists in this universe fantasy obama

Gill [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: One part of my brain: Maxwell is also gay Another part of my brain: Maxwell is exclusively attracted to nonhuman persons Yet another part of my brain, most adjacent to number #2: Maxwell voice, who in their right mind would build a robot that can't fuck? The 4th part of my brain: Maxwell wants to know how chill they'll be with her living exclusively off energy drinks and frozen yogurt for weeks at a time

Kat [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: honestly I figured whatever it was it was MUCH weirder than just being gay

Gill [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: Maxwell: I have plans to take over the world with my army of battle bots and rule as their robot queen.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:16 PM]: Maxwell: wait if you were recruited in a gay bar does that mean our boss frequents those or did he just go there to get you Jacobi: Believe me the question haunts me also Jacobi: sounds great i'm in

Gill [Yesterday at 9:16 PM]: Or, Maxwell: I am not joking for an instant when I say that I for one welcome our alien overlords "When I was 13 I tried to get myself abducted by aliens" except it's not a joke it's an actual minor headcanon of mine Also I almost typed "adopted" rather than "abducted" which shows you why Alana would probably want to do that

Kat [Yesterday at 9:19 PM]: she did say she's on bad terms with her family

Gill [Yesterday at 9:20 PM]: She grew up a pastor's kid in a tiny rural town in Montana, hearing that they don't get along is the furthest thing from a surprise to me. The surprise is that Maxwell has a restraining order against them

Kat [Yesterday at 9:21 PM]: tht implies the court found reasonable cause to issue one wack anyway i had a long day, i'm gonna call it a night

Gill [Yesterday at 9:21 PM]: o/ But yeah that Maxwell empathizes with nonhumans, apparently more than with most regular humans, that makes perfect sense to me I can see her frustration with the AI Ethics board in her last job Expressing Their Concerns and her suppressing flashbacks to many a Creationist rant, and trying to keep her eye from twitching visibly, and no I am not projecting I am just coloring in blank spaces in the narrative with my relevant life experience

#wolf 359 #conversations with kat #deliverusfromsburb

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blue-thief · 5 years ago

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Sanders Sides MBTI Types

I did this for The Umbrella Academy, so it was about time that I did this for Sanders Sides.

Logan - ESTJ

I know you’re probably confused. I mean, he’s literally the embodiment of logic, how could he not be xNTx? Well, it all goes down to cognitive functions.

Logan is quite obviously a Te dominant. I can understand Ti, but I believe that his thinking function leans more to the extroverted side (lol, get it? Side?).

I’ll copy and paste something I found about Te that I found on the MBTI subreddit that was posted by u/GodSteph:

“Te users believe in facts, data, and information they gather from Outside sources. They believe in survey results, in graphs, numbers that represent people's decisions and ideas. They feed their mind with information validated outside of their heads. For them, if results of different surveys or information seem accurate to lots of people, these results are accurate too. They don't stop and internally process if the information seems reasonable inside their heads. They dont validate it internally. They just accept it.”

Seems like Logan, right?

Now, you’re probably wondering why auxiliary Si rather than Ni.

Dominant and auxiliary Si users (xSxJ) are suckers for the rules. They don’t really think much about questions, theories, and things like that. That also makes sense for Logan. Every time he gets into an argument with Roman, it’s always about Rules vs. Innovation. Sure, Logan does veer off from your typical sensor when he references famous philosophers, but that’s probably because of his well-developed tertiary Ne.

So, yeah. Logan is an ESTJ.

Patton - ESFJ

Patton definitely leads with Fe. Fe focuses on the emotions around them and people who use it tend to be good at recognising the emotions of the people around them. Unhealthy Fe can be used to manipulate others and/or cause the person to care about what others think about them too much.

Patton has been shown to use healthy Fe by making sure that everyone else is happy and taking care of their needs like the dad he is. But unhealthy Fe does show up every now and then.

Unsympathetic!Patton is a classic example of using Fe to manipulate others. I won’t go into it too much because I know people aren’t really comfortable with thinking about Patton like that.

Unhealthy Fe that keeps seeking approval from others shows up every now and then as well. He feels like he needs to keep up the act of being happy all the time so the other Sides don’t worry about him. So yeah, Fe dominant for Patton.

Now, what about auxiliary Si? Well, like I said, Si users are suckers for the rules. Patton never wants to step out of line and is desperate to always stay morally right. Si users also tend to be very nostalgic, I’m pretty sure, and I don’t even have to explain that if you’ve seen the Moving On episodes.

So, yeah. Patton is an ESFJ.

Roman - ENFP

Do I even need to explain dominant Ne? Ne is literally the cognitive function that describes Roman.

I can see why someone might type Roman as an ENTP stuck in a Ne-Fe loop, but I think he uses Fi, not Fe. Fi is one of the hardest functions to explain, so this might be a little tricky. Fi has a lot to do with strong beliefs and morals. Fi also has a lot to do with authenticity, which is something that matters a lot to Roman since he’s always pushing himself to be completely original, and well, authentic.

So, yeah. Roman is an ENFP.

Virgil - INTP

Virgil is stuck in a Ti-Si loop.

“The Ti-Si loop traps the INTP in their introverted functions and causes them to neglect their extraverted functions. Instead of looking at possibilities and thinking of the future, the INTP becomes very caught up in analyzing the past for answers using Ti (Introverted Thinking) and Si (Introverted Sensing). This causes the INTP to become very nostalgic, thinking of the past and sometimes idealizing it. They might want to use this information to help them understand things better, searching for answers from mistakes or actions taken in the past. This can cause the INTP to overthink the situation quite a bit, since they aren’t relying on or trusting their functions in the way they are used to. They use this past information but will analyze it to death, not really knowing when they have figured out the right answers and solutions from what they have uncovered. Instead of grasping the full picture, the INTP becomes obsessive over the past and so they are often missing important facts and details. They are only seeing things from a much more narrow scope, feeling trapped in those emotions and behaviors from their past. The information they are gathering becomes much more subjective, and so they try to find ways to fill in the blanks and often come up with results which are missing facts that the INTP desperately needs. Not having those pieces can cause the INTP to seem a bit paranoid about their relationships, since they compare current connections to one’s from the past. If someone exhibits behaviors similar to another person the INTP once knew, they will often judge them based on this. Instead of trusting in their intuition, the INTP is relying too heavily on the past and finds themselves disconnected and possibly paranoid about people and the choices they have made.”

(Found here: https://personalitygrowth.com/INTP-ti-si-loop-what-it-means-and-how-to-break-free/)

The last bit really applies to Virgil. Roman and Logan have both slipped up and nearly pointed out that Virgil is paranoid. Also, “If someone exhibits behaviors similar to another person the INTP once knew, they will often judge them based on this.” really reminds me of the theory that Virgil was mistrusting of Roman before because he reminded Virge about Remus too much.

Deceit - INTJ

I AM SO SICK OF PEOPLE SAYING THAT DECEIT IS AN ENTJ. HE’S NOT. EVEN IF WE’RE TYPING BY DICHOTOMIES, HE’S AN INTJ.

First, my weakest point: if we’re typing by dichotomies, he’s an introvert. He looks down on social engagements (”Well, the bar for skipping an important occasion should be higher than a...social engagement.”), already indicating that he’s an introvert. Also, he absolutely loses it when he’s around others for too long. Look at how Deceit behaves near the end of SvS. He’s absolutely done with the others.

Next, my second weakest and second strongest point which will be copied and pasted from a point I made on Personality Database:

“An ENTJ would enlist the help of the people around him to reach their goals. Deceit does that with going to Remus in DWIT, but it's in a last-ditch effort to get Thomas to understand that Deceit is not trying to harm him. Originally, Deceit planned on solving his problem independently, just like an INTJ would. The only reason he got Remus to help him was that there were no other options. If there were, I can guarantee that Deceit would leave the other Dark Sides out of all of this.”

Finally, my last and strongest argument. He leads with Ni, not Te. His Ni is SO HECKING APPARENT, HOW COULD YOU NOT SEE IT? In all of the episodes where he made an important appearance (that one point in Why Do We Get Out of Bed in the Morning and the end-card for The Nightmare Instead of Christmas don’t count), he referenced numerous philosophers like Kant, Sterner, and Plato.

He’s also very vision-oriented rather than goal-oriented, which is more INTJ rather than ENTJ.

Besides, Deceit’s entire character’s vibe screams “wE lIvE iN a sOcIeTy”, and I can’t think of anything more INTJ than that.

So, yeah. Deceit is an INTJ.

Remus - ENTP

Just like his brother, Remus is obviously an Ne user. Some people think he leads with Se and I just don’t see it. Se users are in touch with reality and that’s just not Remus. His mind is always somewhere else, thinking about kidnapping a goose and waterboarding it until it honks out the truth about the Illuminati, then planning on roasting the goose to death and force-feeding it’s body to Roman who’s begging his brother for freedom (not based off of a true story).

So, why Ti rather than Fi? Well, if you stop and think for a moment, Remus is actually kind of smart. He’s constantly throwing around random facts (”Did you know that dork means whale *redacted*?”, *insert some forbidden knowledge about Jeffery Dahmer here*, *some stuff that he knows about religion for some reason*) which is peak Ti user behaviour.

Remus also fits into a lot of ENTP stereotypes. His humour is either a) dirty, or b) dark. He loves mental sparring, or at least messing with other people’s heads. He’s extremely blunt and is not afraid to express his opinions on topics (”Have you forgotten about the part where I’m your creativity? Obviously I have opinions on the matter.”)

I can also see him being stuck in an Ne-Fe loop. I’m pretty sure that it was confirmed in a livestream that the only thing Remus wants is attention, which seems a lot like unhealthy Fe like I mentioned in Patton’s section. He also shows a lot of similarities with another ENTP character who’s stuck in a loop, Klaus Hargreeves.

So, yeah. Remus is an ENTP.

---

A lot of this was unedited, so there might be tons of mistakes or things that don’t really add up. I’m open to arguments for why the Sides are different types, but I’ve only changed my mind about someone’s type once, so yeah.

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96percentdone · 5 years ago

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Welcome to Hope’s Peak Academy

So @jaedeite and I ages ago invented this au. Called “clusterfuck au.” because the main ship is a polyamorous clusterfuck. and it involves the higurashi cast also existing in a dangan ronpa setting. like. a modified pre-despair setting, with v3 kids, and less stupid bullshit.

AND. Well. I wrote some of it. Happy shitscram bitches

Shuuichi’s summer break has been extremely quiet, or so he would like to say. Ever since he solved that gruesome murder three months ago, the press has been hounding his uncle’s detective office, and even his home. He hasn’t even tried going out this summer, preferring to stay in his small room at his uncles’ house. The world at large too desperately wants to plaster his face on the papers.

It was an accident anyway. A mistake. Really, anyone could have noticed that detail about the knife. How the state of the body didn’t match with the apparent murder weapon. It was obvious, wasn’t it? It really could only have been that man!

Dark eyes with the cold fury of a man thwarted flash through his mind. That glare, that hateful, self-righteous glare; he thinks they’re punishment enough for his sin of solving it.

It was an accident. A mistake. Nobody should have solved that case. Justice was already won before Shuuichi had ever arrived, when that man was sent right to hell. He should have just left it be. Let that broken, damaged family recover without his meddling.

Should he have? Is that what justice is? Letting murderers go free? Letting those who have been brutalized get their retribution, their safety, through any necessary means? He never wanted to answer these questions. He just wanted to solve mysteries. I should have stuck to puzzles and books.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door, and Shuuichi looks up from his empty desk. “Shuuichi-kun!,” The older, raspier voice of his uncle calls out from beyond the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Uncle Yuujirou walks up to Shuuichi’s desk, and hands him an elegant, but simple, white envelope. Oh no, is it some ridiculous interview request? He thought for sure he told him he’s not interested in any of this kind of stuff. Uncle Yuujirou just laughs, with a knowing look on that gently wrinkled face. “I went through today’s mail. I threw most of it out, but I think this one will interest you.”

Shuuichi takes the envelope in his hands, examining it in the careful and precise way he does evidence. It’s not particularly special, other than the black and white stamp. The one that Hope’s Peak Academy uses when it scouts out the talented. Oh no.

***

The letter in Rena’s hand is icky. That’s the only way she could ever describe it. Crisp and white, and yet somehow it sticks to her, gluing itself to her thoughts for months. It sticks and clings like dough when you first try to knead it. The letter reads with elegant, precise letters:

You’ve been invited to attend Hope’s Peak Academy as the Super High School Level Stage Actress.

“I’m not going,” Rena says, dropping the letter on the kitchen table with disgust. That’s her final answer. Act? Again? No, she quit that. She hasn’t acted in a year, why would she go back now? To the lights, the crowds, back to Shuukyo city. No thanks. She’ll stay right here in Ibaraki.

“Reina—” her father pleads, stumbling out of his chair. He should have expected this. That name has never felt ickier.

“No! I said I’m never acting again! I refuse!” She can feel herself shaking, hands clenched into trembling fists. She never wanted to be like this again, not in front of her dad, not in front of anyone, not at all. I’m not going. I’m not going I’m not going I’m not going.

Echoing in the back of her mind is an elegant voice, a laugh, a ‘congratulations, you did so well Reina-chan! We’re so proud of you!’ Unbidden tears build up. Rena refuses to cry, grinding her teeth with all the force in the world.

Gentle hands grab her tense shoulders. “Reina,” her father says in a gentle voice. She doesn’t look up at him. She’s not sure if she doesn’t want to see his face, or if she doesn’t want him to see hers. “You don’t have to act.”

Don’t have to act? You told me you wanted me to go! How can she go to Hope’s Peak Academy and not act? That’s why they wanted her, isn’t it? What is Dad talking about? He’s not making any sense.

“If you really don’t want to go, that’s okay,” he continues with a sigh. Rena can imagine the look on his face. “I don’t want to make you do anything if you really don’t want to. But this is the best education you could ever get. Even if you never act again, you could take this diploma and do anything you want.”

“But they want me for acting!” It’s a pitiful rebuttal. One she knows that won’t last.

“They can’t force you to act, Reina.” He doesn’t elaborate further, but he doesn’t have to. Rena knows it’s true. Hope’s Peak Academy is a high school, not an acting program. They might have a drama club, and even facilities for grand performances, but they can’t force her back on stage. Even if they needle and whine and beg.

She sighs, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” This isn’t like her. Rena is supposed to be cheerful now. What would make her cheerful? “Maybe Rena will learn to become a detective instead! Hau!” Yeah, that sounds fun. Hope’s Peak will find her in their forensics lab. She’s always liked a good mystery.

***

“So, you’re going back to campus tomorrow right Sis?” The familiar voice of her sister asks, slightly muffled in the way all phone calls are.

“Ahaha, yeah,” Mion replies, placing the last of her controllers in the box. That’s all that she has left for packing. Good! I’m done! And with that she flops back on her fluffy twin sized bed, in her now emptier bedroom. “It’ll be fun to start the club back up again.”

“You mean your club with only two members?” Shion teases, and Mion’s cheeks burn.

“Rika-chan and Satoko show up too!” Sometimes. It’s hard, given that they’re elementary schoolers, and live on a different part of campus. So usually, it’s just two of them. Is that kind of a date…? No, don’t think about that!

Except Shion can smell embarrassment, even from the district next door. “Bet that works out in your favor too, hm? You two can get some alone time. When are you going to make a move, sis?”

“AAGHH, Stupid Shion, shut up!!” Mion groans, kicking the bed sheets as she buries her face in a pillow. It was a mistake for the conversation to go this direction. But as Shion continues to rib her, her mind drifts somewhere else.

They met in the cafeteria. She hadn’t ever seen him before, probably because he wasn’t enrolled in the same course as her. He looked absolutely miserable, staring blankly at the bento he was barely eating. It’s far from Mion to ignore someone in pain, so naturally. ‘Hey, do you want to play a game?’

Those eyes looked confused. ‘Sonozaki Mion…’ He said slowly, as if he was surprised she was talking to him. Didn’t stop her from taking a seat next to him. His eyes got a little brighter at that.

“We’re just friends,” Mion finally says, in a huff from all the teasing. It took her weeks to convince him to actually play a game with her, never mind join her club, but they’re definitely friends now. She’s happy like that. He looks a bit happier than he used to. He smiles more during club meetings. Mion thinks he looks nice like that. Stupid Mion, change the subject! “Anyway, we’re going tomorrow morning, do you want to come with?”

One more night and she’s back to school again. She’s looking forward to it.

***

“Yeah, and then have Demon Granny kick my ass for going near Hope’s Peak, no thanks!” Shion says. If I see Grandma never again it would be too soon! Mion laughs.

“You say that like you haven’t been there before.”

At this Shion snickers. It’s true that sometimes, “Mion” is her. It’s pretty fun to sneak around campus, meet some of Mion’s friends. But that won’t work here, and besides, “Unfortunately for you, I’m actually busy.”

“Is it the mystery guy that doesn’t talk much?” Ah, him. Shion’s new friend. The one she hasn’t told Mion much about. A twinge of guilt pierces her heart.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s moving with me tomorrow.” Was that too much to tell her?

“He’s WHAT?” Yeah, it might have been too much. She rolls over on her messy bed and internally groans.

“Well, he can barely take care of himself, even with the jobs he has. The other day we went to the supermarket again, and he still hasn’t learned to get things in bulk—”

“Did mom okay this?”

“I didn’t ask. I told Kasai, and we’re moving him into the empty apartment next door.” It’s the kind of thing you can get away with when your family owns the building.

“Mmn…” Mion’s frown is quite audible. She can tell her sister wants to ask questions, but doesn’t know how to. Maybe she’s scared to. There’s an intangible wall between the Sonozaki sisters. That’s not a bad thing, is it? What can she even tell her anyway? It’s not like she knows all that much. This is fine. “That makes sense. Try not to burden Kasai-san too much, okay?”

“You worry too much!” Shion takes a glance at the time. Crap, I’m late! “Anyway I have to go! I said I’d help him clean up his old place!”

“Wait, Shion—” But it’s too late, and Shion hangs up.

Muu-kun: where are you?

Muu-kun : hello?

Muu-kun: muu….i’m getting worried…

Shion: sorry, sorry! I’m on my way~!

***

All finished! Satoko’s dorm room looks mostly the same, just fuller now. Jackets hang in closets, shoes rest by the door, and there’s a few scattered tools, books, and electronics across the desk and bed. It could probably be neater, but she doesn’t see the point, since she’s just going to make the mess again anyway.

“We’ll be on our way now, Satoko,” says the soft voice of her mother, standing by the sofa and observing the room. Behind her towards the door is Houjou-san—dad. Yeah. He’s dad now, remember? Satoko finds herself frowning, unwanted. “Satoko?” Her mother asks, concern pooled in caramel eyes. There’s the unsaid question: ‘Are you missing your brother again?’

“Of course, I am just fine! Ohohoho!” Satoko laughs, regal and fake. It doesn’t bother her at all that he’s missing. That he was here for this last year, and then ran off the next day. It doesn’t bother her that instead of him, there’s only Houjou-san. No, Dad. “I was simply wondering if Rika will be here soon.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Houjou-san says with a smile. He always looks happy. He’s not burdened at all by Satoko. Satoko alone is struggling to define what family means to her. No I’m not! Houjou-san is my father! It’s fine. All parental relationships are awkward.

She hugs her mom a bit too tight, and awkwardly side hugs Houjou-san, and then they’re on their way, leaving Satoko alone in her dorm room. Before she gets stuck in her thoughts, she pulls her phone out of her pocket. Hopefully she’s not busy…

***

With a smile plastered on her face, Rika swings higher, higher, on the swingset of the park set. One day she’ll find a way to fly, so high, and finally touch one of those cotton clouds. Push higher—it’s liberating.

“CUT!” a loud voice yells from outside the filming area. “Take a break! We’ll be back in 20.” Finally. Rika’s smile drops. Or rather, it doesn’t. It just switches to the well-worn form belonging to child actress darling, Furude Rika.

As she goes over to her bag, The director comes over, praising her for her flawless work like always, blah blah, she’s not really listening. Just smiling and nodding. “Mii. Thank you very much, Akito.” Rika thinks she’s the only one in the world who can get away with this disrespect.

He leaves, and she ruffles through her stuff until she finds her cellphone, the notification light blinking. It’s always blinking on her phone. Unlock, scroll, god she wishes she could block all these people. So many directors, and managers, and costume people, and agents, and her mother (ugh), is there anything here that’s interesting?

Satokoヾ(○･ω･)ﾉ☆: Have you arrived yet?

Oh yeah. Today is moving back in day, isn’t it, even for the elementary schoolers. She forgot amidst her overpacked schedule. A quick glance back to her crowded calendar and yep, she’s set to finally go and settle back at the dorm in about…six hours. “That’s too long,” she mutters.

“Akito?” Rika asks, waddling up to the director, who’s busy pouring over a bit of script. “I have to leave early today,” she says, looking down. It’s not like they really need her here. Rika does perfect takes on the first go most of the time. She expects to get irritated texts from her mother, but who cares. It wouldn’t be the first or the last time.

“Ah, today is move in day isn’t it? Of course. You’re not really needed for the rest of the work today anyway,” he says, going into detail about the schedule, and blah blah, Rika doesn’t care. She’s out the door.

Her mom won’t be happy to see her learn she’s leaving early, but it doesn’t matter. Satoko is waiting.

***

As the math teacher for class 2-BR lectures on and on about polynomials, Hajime wonders why exactly he’s even here. Head propped up in one hand, he glances out the window with a sigh, gazing at the athletics fields beneath him. Below there’s a class for the SHSLs, playing baseball and goofing off together. They look like they’re having fun. Certainly more fun than Hajime is having at this lecture.

His gym classes are not as fun. Maybe they’re not as fun because he doesn’t have anyone to goof off with. He’s friendly with his classmates, but they’re not friends. He doesn’t get what they’re all so excited about. They’re just reserve course kids. They’ll only ever be second best. Just like he is. Why did I enroll here again…?

It’d be easier if just being here made him happy, like it does everyone else in his class. But he’s not happy. Walking through the halls of the large building, with classrooms split between Ts and Rs depending on the course you’re enrolled in, and he’s left feeling misplaced. Lost. We reserve course kids are just here to foot the bills…

His phone buzzes from his front pocket. A thousand yen says it’s Sonozaki. Carefully, although the teacher never notices anyway, he pulls it out and checks his messages.

Sonozaki: club is in session today! o((*^▽^*))o don’t forget.

Sonozaki: first day back is not a day off

Sonozaki: if you skip out I will hunt you down so don’t try anything (｡+･`ω･´)

Hajime snorts quietly and pockets his phone again. Maybe it’s not that terrible.

***

It’s impressive how empty the halls of the main building of Hope’s Peak Academy can get as soon as classes let out, Kokichi thinks. It’s only the first day, and yet all the excitement of being here at this school, is already zapped after a single day. Well, I guess it wouldn’t be all that exciting for returning students, and he doesn’t think clubs are operating just yet, but it’s still a little unexpected.

He watches as the remaining stragglers in the hall run off to the library, or even to their dorms with disinterest. It doesn’t matter all that much what they’re doing, anyway. He’s not out patrolling the halls for them, but to get a lay of the land. This is his new stomping grounds. It’s a pretty big campus, so he has to get used to it fast if he wants to make the most of it.

But it’s still kind of boring. In this quiet building, with its mostly empty halls. If the rest of his cohort were here, it’d be one thing, but there’s no one. Not even someone to antagonize. How boring. He hopes his whole HPA experience won’t be like this. It’s a school for the best and brightest. Surely something interesting has to come along.

Well, I guess for today we’ll bother the people in my dorm! He cracks a grin at that. There’s so many new faces to piss off! Surely at least one of them is exciting.

***

Nobody stands near Nagito as he peruses the many shelves of the library. They scurry away as soon as he’s within 10 feet of them to some other place he can’t see them. He’s used to it. The group of reserve course students who almost lost all their bags in an accidental fire started calling him HPA’s Bad Luck Charm, and it’s spread around the school. He did apologize for that (he swears he was just trying to return that Bunsen burner), but it didn’t make a difference. Oh well. That’s okay. Nagito is used to time alone.

The people in his class tend to stay clear of him, too. Well, Sonozaki-san (as the class president) and a few others are nice, and friendly towards him, but that’s about it. He can’t really burden people as talented as them with his presence. They’re all so bright, shining, hopeful. They’re destined for great things. It’s unfitting for him to be their compatriot.

Another reserve course student skitters away from him as Nagito starts taking out a new book. He thinks he’d be better suited among their ranks. They’re just as audacious as he is to think they belong here.

When the book comes out, the entire bookcase falls over, causing a domino effect. Nagito starts laughing to himself.

***

The conference room with the steering committee is always really dark. Jin never understood why they do that. Even if everything you need to look at is on a screen, a light is still nice. But whatever.

“We’re no longer postponing the Hope Cultivation plan,” speaks one of the men.

The announcement sends Jin into a panic. “But, the results of the modified project are still unclear. You could be putting one of the students in real danger—”

“Need we remind you that you were the one who insisted we change the operation.” That was because your original plan was inhumane and ill thought-out. But the steering committee doesn’t care about the ethics of it. The reserve course is just money and guinea pigs to them. “We’ve lost a lot of time because of your efforts. We cannot wait any longer,” the committee continues.

Damn! Jin needs more time! The investigation into the committee is still underway. It’s going so slow because if they catch on to him, he’s fired, and then who knows what they’ll do to this school. Does he tell Munakata to pick up the pace? Is that a safe play? He doesn’t know. He can’t know.

“Start searching the reserve course for a test subject. And make it quick.”

The clock is ticking.

***

The alleyways of Shuukyo city, clean but still covered in graffiti, are always empty at this time of night. It’s too early for the delinquents groups, but it’s just too late for anyone else to spend time in an alley. Keiichi is alone, crouched near some trash cans. They smell really bad, and flies gleefully buzz around them, but despite this he stays right here, tucked out of sight from the kids and people wandering the streets. He has to. It ends before it begins otherwise.

There’s a heavy weight sitting in his arms, made much heavier by the weight of soon-to-be sins. He can still back out. He hasn’t done anything yet. If he went home, right now, it would be like nothing ever happened. He doesn’t have to do this. But he wants to. Or, he deserves to. Or, the pain has to go somewhere. Somewhere that isn’t him.

So he thinks, deliberating on the pain that has yet to be inflicted, staring down at the BB gun in his hands, aiming at no one, when suddenly—

“Y’know, that’s a really bad prank,” an unfamiliar voice says. Startled, Keiichi drops the BB gun, and it clatters to the floor. In the darkness of the alleyway, he can see the hints of a new silhouette, but he can’t make the stranger out. When did they get here? “There’s a lot more interesting things you can be doing other than that.”

Keiichi says nothing. He’s frozen in place. He’s caught, but he won’t be caught if he just goes home, leaves it here. The stranger can’t see much more of him than he can of them. He’s at no risk, right? Hell, maybe he can shoot them first.

“Do you think you’re special?”

Hah? What kind of question is that?

“Well don’t look so surprised. Only a narc would feel entitled to pelt people with a BB gun.” The stranger laughs at his expense. “Are you a narc?”

Keiichi still can’t move, can’t speak, but his anger is starting to boil over. What does this person know? They don’t know him! They don’t know his pain, or his struggle! He’s not a narcissist. He’s not! He’s not, right? He’s…not. I’m just—

“Tag, you’re it!” The stranger swipes the gun off the concrete and bolts down the nearby street.

Before he’s able to think, he’s chasing, following a dark blurry silhouette as they run all across the district. He needs it back. He needs it back, right? What else can he use to take out his anger? But his plan is out the window now. Sure, he could go back to blasting cans, but that’s not enough. That’s what this was for, right? He needs it back! He needs it back.

He runs and runs and runs. The streets all blur together in his mind, with the only thing in his sights being that stranger with his BB gun. But why does he need it back? Was this ever worth it? Do I even want to do this? Is this going to make me happy? He needs it back. He needs it back!

He doesn’t even know how long he’s been running for. Minutes? Hours? He just has to keep running. He has to get it back. Even if he doesn’t think he wants it anymore. Even if he doesn’t know what he wants.

The stranger hops over a closed gate with the gun, and vanishes. Where am I….? It takes Keiichi a minute, through his heaving and panting, to register the tall, regal brick entryway, and the looming school behind it. Hope’s Peak Academy…? Did he really run that far? He collapses against the brick wall. Guess so.

As he recuperates, he thinks. How do I get that back? He doesn’t go here. He’s enrolled in specialized schools, and being in the reserve course didn’t seem appealing. But he wants it back. Or. Or maybe he wants something else.

Maybe there are other ways to be happy.

#hope.txt #higurashi #dangan ronpa #higurashi no naku koro ni #ITS GONNA BE GOOD #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #clusterfuck au #my fic

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years ago

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Poly Wanna? Ch.3

A/N: Anonymous Guest - If you’d like to have a chat about these things, say it with your chest, and I’ll say my part. We’ll have an exchange. If you want to use the space set aside for reviews without identification or giving me the opportunity to reply to you personally, then I have to give you the two cents here and everyone has to be subjected to it. It’s an M rating story, so I’ll presume you have your big girl panties on and can take a reply and for anyone else around, in case they have some confusion about my stand on these things, this applies to all.

I just want to remind everybody that this is free labor and if you want somebody to do anything on your timetable, you oughtta go ahead and fund them. You don’t? Cool. Take wtf they’re willing to give you. Or leave it. None of us have to be here. If you’re here because you would love to read a story that I am currently writing, I’d love for you to stick around and will give you the best story that my skills have to offer, free of charge and therefore not obliged to demands. If you’re here to be an executive producer with a production schedule, you made a wrong turn at the intersection of Fuck You and Pay Me. Thanks for your time. I understand if ours together has come to an end. Read what brings you what you want to see and feel, and I’ll write what brings me that WHEN I write it!

I will abandon this and delete it before turning over authority on what happens here to anybody, or subjecting myself to being treated like a content mule. Juneteenth happened, Sis. You don’t have no slaves here. In the immortal words of my mama, and many-a-Black-mamas, “I’m not one of your lil’ friends.” You better approach me like you got some sense if you trying to ASK ME to do something for my consideration. Peace and many blessings. And now, my update…

@adorkable-blackgirl @chenoahchantel @cactus-con @up-the-tube @riebellion @itsyaapollochild@oof–musicals @lesbian-so-what @woahjusttakeiteasy-man @meadowstryingtobepretty @imma-sensitive-btch @okaygal21 @midernacht @divinereign4ever @xoxoemille

A Very Henry Morning

Henry generally woke up in just enough time to blend some juice and watch the sunrise over Swellview, the city that he fought everyday to protect. It was a lasting ritual, from whenever he was with Charlotte. She would always get up super early for yoga and meditation, blend them some juice, then, he’d get up and watch the sun rise with her. The first time, she tapped him to wake him and said, “Sorry to wake you, but you’ve gotta see this.” He quickly rushed out of bed, wondering if a Swellview emergency was underway. This was more important! She went to the balcony of their apartment, cute body clad in her yoga gear and just stared at the rising sun, in awe. “It’s like whenever the day starts anew, not only is it another chance to get things a little more right, but she really brings the day in, in style.” Charlotte was smiling as the morning got gradually brighter and staring at the lifebringing star until it became too bright to behold. Henry was looking at her.

He wanted to ask her if she really thought that was worth waking him up this early, knowing that he went to sleep late at night after crime fighting, but just the way she drank it all in and the way it became a little brighter and a little warmer as he drank her in… Instead, he’d said, “Tomorrow, wake me up earlier! We almost missed it,” and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Presently, he had been doing this without her now for 6 years. “She really brings the day in, in style,” he would say out loud to himself, every time. For years, he did it hoping that Charlotte was somewhere out there, doing the same and that for that moment in time, they were connected again. He would imagine her in whatever her current form had been from (cyberstalking her) and he would recall the way that she looked whenever they first did this.

When he was with Jasper, he didn’t share that moment with him. It seemed unfair to Charlotte, even though even being involved with Jasper was another betrayal of sorts, the sunrise was holy. It was set apart. It was a part of he and Char that was too big, too bright for anybody, even her to ever be able to take away from him… and he was too selfish to share it with anybody else, even Jasper.

Now, his internal clock was set to make the juice and go to the terrace. He watched the sunrise and then, and only then was he willing to begin his day. Henry usually finished off his juice before the sun rose fully and put the glass into the wash when he came back in. He grabbed his watering pot and went to water all of his plants that needed it and simply check in with the ones that didn’t. “The sunrise was beautiful today. Forecast is that she might scorch you if I let you outside, but I’ll definitely let her in, so she can kiss you all on your little faces,” he said. He himself kissed flowers. He himself touched them lovingly, talked to them, asked nothing more of them than for them to be healthy and flourish, but sometimes shared his life with them. Henry had a therapist, but he knew whenever he spoke to his therapist that he was speaking to a therapist and he, as a therapist sometimes worried about whether he was handling his own therapy properly, or if his fears got into the way of his needs. Speaking with his plants helped him to figure out when he was being unreasonable, irrational, or counterproductive. Because, the way that he spoke with them was like one would a child that they love with their whole heart, explaining things for them to understand, and being honest and realistic, but protecting them from one’s own problems. Accountability mattered when you spoke with someone you loved. You would honestly do whatever you could to make sure that they don’t see you differently and make the declarations to better yourself to them. He did that with his plants, then shared the genuine portions that he walked away with for therapy. They kept him honest.

He kept a 3 foot garden statue of Blodeuwedd in his home and had various depictions of her flowers form in artwork all over the place, along with other deities, myths, legends associated with flowers. He’d keep statues nearby the plants to “protect them,” in that way that a dad looks underneath the bed and in the closet for monsters. He’d collected Flora, Khloris, Hegemone, among others but, Blodeuwedd was his favorite, for some reason. Unless you counted Dionysus! Now, one thing about that guy was that he was known mostly for his partying, yeah? Wine, fertility, ritual madness… People generally thought orgies and drunkenness… which… make no mistake, Henry was not opposed to and would even call himself a fan, but Dionysus was also, among these other fun things, god of the grape harvest… He was a god of fruitfulness and vegetation! Henry felt like it was unfair to simply see him as a wild hedonist when he was to thank for fertility and cultivation. Henry was pro-fair… And maybe, just maybe identified with the demigod, just a little bit.

Folk rarely saw the portion of Henry that loved as hard as he did when he experienced the sun saying good morning to all of nature and made his first moves of her arrival an offering to those who could not live without her. Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Henry Hart is no mystic. He doesn’t worship the sun, the plants, or any of the gods and goddess spread around his home for the aesthetics. But, whenever he spent time with these plants, whenever he gave love to his flowers, he believed in something greater than himself, and that was all of the faith that he needed to go out and protect this world everyday.

People were fine, or whatever… but also they were human. They were the threats to nature, to the earth, the environment, and all that the sun shone on everyday. Mister Feelgood never had to fight an animal. It was always people that did the evil that required his life’s work to exist. Many moons ago, he had fought a bear, but since then wondered if other steps might have been taken. Captain Man was not one to really do the sensible thing in a fight scenario.

As he got older, Henry tried to figure out ways to best avoid a fight. He was fast approaching 30, probably would reach it before he knew it, and he was in great shape - the best shape of his life, but he also knew that this vessel expiration date. He wasn’t Captain Man. He wasn’t indestructible, and some of his peers were already discussing that the warranties on their knees had lapsed. A few years ago, he might have replied, “RIP to them, but I’m different.” But, he was showing signs of power failure, himself. He became sore more easily than he did as Kid Danger, well, since the early days, at least. He was sore all of the time from ages 13-15. He thought it would never stop. That his body would ache for the rest of his life.

By 16, he was accustomed to his hypermotility, trained to perfection in its usage and skilled beyond his wildest thoughts in fighting technique. He didn’t have a single pain for almost 2 years. Then, Rick Twitler stripped him of that. The soreness increased, as he spent more energy to get used to things, but he adjusted pretty quickly and became just as trained and skilled with his normal Henry body. It worked out for him for years, in and out of that outfit. But, by 25, he started getting a little more tired than usual.

He worked on his diet and regulated his energy levels better. Within another year, he started feeling like he needed more sleep at night. He began a vitamin regimen and looked into some natural remedies for fatigue and sleep deprivation. Now, even his libido was changing. Pre-Charlotte Henry kissed strangers, made out with hot villains, hooked up with any cute flavor that would give him the time of day. That seemed to be normal teenage behavior, in his mind. Post-Charlotte Henry was a little more reserved for a while. He’d had this life changing relationship, failed at it, and wanted to proceed with either extreme self destruction, or instant carnal gratification. There was no in between. He either was a hermit, or a hoe, for months after they broke up, and only tried to moderate that whenever he began seeing Jasper.

Unfortunately for Jasper, Post-Charlotte Henry was still suffering when he picked up what they had, so… while he was truly trying, he still had the tendency to accelerate from hubby to harlot goals in a heartbeat. Unfortunately for Jasper, Henry had not yet gotten to the point where he could honestly and objectively take a look at his own fuckery and see where he messed up and he certainly wasn’t about tackling sorting through his own heartbreak so that he wouldn’t become one of those hurt people who hurt people. Unfortunately for Henry, Jasper was a keeper, and he was still so heartbroken that he lost the one keeper that he could acknowledge back then, that he lost ANOTHER. How the fuck did you throw away two keepers, you egotistical, emotionally stunted, self-centered, sex crazed… He stopped himself. Speak about your mistakes in the same way that you would speak to a friend about theirs. When you have no friends that you can think of, though… Speak to yourself like you would speak to the lost ones. To Charlotte. To Jasper…

He grabbed his hygiene bag - it was like a tactical control bag, but full of his facial and skin care, dental products, and his cleansing and fragrance supplies. The bag was full of things that he used on a daily basis, and also his weekly and monthly care. Henry took care of himself. His hair, skin, and teeth were always a priority that he was sure rubbed off from Char, too. Hell, they were together the first 4 years after graduation. Those were formative years for him. He used to wash his face and body with the same damn soap, his face with his hands and his body with a loofah that he always kept until it fell apart. He used to brush his teeth within 40 seconds. His hair took the most time of everything he did and all he ever did was wash it with a shampoo and conditioner 2 in 1… and if he ran out, the same damn soap he washed his face and body with!

Charlotte got him into separate cleaners and applicators. Like, whenever he washed his face, he didn’t even do so in the shower, because he had an entire process to make sure his face was well cared for and the shower wash wouldn’t be timed right for it. Usually, he did wipe his face in the shower, because of washing his hair and the water and steam, but he didn’t really wash it until he did his face after the shower. The shower itself, he would wash his hair, let conditioner set in it and then wash his body, some of his parts had different cloths, ALL of the cloths went into the laundry when he finished washing up. He always moisturized his damp skin, and put on his deodorant before his facial routine, which was kind of extensive, but had him looking better at 27 than he had at 17, meanwhile… not to say that Jasper looked bad, but… He definitely hadn’t aged as well as Henry and Char had and perhaps she’d help him, like she helped Henry.

Her influence had helped him become the casanova that he dreamed himself to be when he was younger. Though lately, his desire had been limited. He didn’t even get off on the thrill of the chase anymore. He was super focused on this television project, so he thought maybe that might be affecting things. He wondered and worried if throughout recording that he might have to play up his sexual conquests so that his life would look more like it had looked for the past few years, or if the show would simply redefine him, or worse, make him look like he was faking for TV, since he didn’t seem to want to go on any dates at the moment. He always went on dates. People knew that. If he wasn’t on a date, he was at a party and he was coming home with somebody’s date.

He had family game night at his parents’ neighbors’ house a couple of weeks before and whenever they were playing word association games. Someone said Henry, and every member of his family said one of the following list: Slut, sex, and STD. He didn’t want to say who said what but at the same time that he told Piper, “I have never once had an STD. I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” his mother was asking his father, “Why would you say SEX?” And his “I’m a sex therapist for crying out loud!” Conveniently replied to both Piper and his mom. But… he was still a little embarrassed. Nobody said gardening or flowers. Nobody said therapist. Nobody said even the word that he had been to them for 27 years, 21 for Piper - son, brother, dude who lived with us? He sighed. That was worse than that time that one of Piper’s friends referred to him, not even as Piper’s promiscuous brother… “What was the point of the adjective?” he’d asked.

He wasn’t embarrassed so much as hurt, a little bit. Because all throughout his adolescence, nobody knew him outside of being a friend to hometown faves. Charlotte Page, the smartest girl in town. Jasper Dunlop, a hero and an activist against unjust laws. Ray Manchester, the longest running most handsome man in Swellview. Piper “the Queen of Harts,” child commercial actress and self made public figure/influencer. And someone actually told him, “Honestly, I don’t think anybody would care how many chicks you banged if you weren’t Piper Hart’s brother. You’re a sex therapist and probably a sex addict and you have a sister who began the Holdin’ Out for a Hero chastity challenge.”

Little did that person know, that challenge got Mister Feelgood as much ass as Henry Hart. But, now, for some reason, he couldn’t even think about doing that. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him until today’s shower. Up until then, he just presumed he was getting old and tired of it. Like, dating was exhausting sometimes and parties seemed louder than they used to. Sex? Still awesome. That could never change, but… whenever he had the chance for any, he would prefer to pass.

He had a date the night that he asked Jasper to speak with him about the venture. “I wanna ask Charlotte, as well, but I still have no access to her,” Henry said, casually. There wasn’t a hint of sadness in his voice or even in his heart at that moment, because it had been nearly seven years and Charlotte being out of the loop and out of his life was commonplace, now.

“Does it pay, because I can probably get her to entertain the thought, if it does?” Jasper asked.

“Who are you talking about?” Henry heard a voice ask in the close background… Like real close… like.. Either hovering right over Jasper’s shoulder, or sitting in his lap close.

“Shhh. You,” Jasper said. Like… their voices seemed to be coming from the same place.

“Don’t you SHHH me!” She snapped and it was right in Henry’s ear! Like she was holding the phone. Even with her being loud and angry in his ear, this was one of the sweetest sounds Henry had heard in years. Her actual voice. She sounded different, older, but pretty much the same. Her language and tone definitely brought back memories. All he had was old footage of her at different times. This was more than he bargained for whenever he called Jasper’s phone. He didn’t even know that they were in communication with each other and they sounded… so close…

She and Jasper were fussing and sounded like tussling, probably Jasper trying to move the phone away as he softly said, “Henry’s asking me about meeting up with him at the old spot about some business.”

“Oh,” she said, and then her voice faded into the background saying, “Well, yeah, I’d talk to Henry for money, I guess.”

Jasper whispered something to her that Henry couldn’t hear, then it sounded like he kissed her? Then it sounded like she giggled. Henry… felt… so odd in that moment. Jasper returned to the call and said, “Sorry. Charlotte knocked me off of the bed,” he laughed.

“The bed?” Henry repeated, halfway in a daze, halfway like he didn’t understand the word or phrase the bed was what you said about your bed. Was he and Charlotte in this bed together?

“Yeah,” Jasper seemed to read his mind. “You.. haven’t seen any of my posts tagging her?”

“No, she has me blocked on everything.”

“Yeah, but I don’t.”

“She actually went into the programs and made them to where Schwoz can’t hack her, so I’m sure she’s got a way for me to not even be able to see her through someone else’s feed.”

“Oh… well…” Jasper laughed a little bit uncomfortably. He had thought that Henry knew, but he could tell that he was just putting it together, “We’re a couple now!” He cheered. “It’s still new, but… yeah..”

Henry wasn’t quite sure which of the multitude of emotions would wind up taking over for the night, but in that moment while he let a silent tear fall, he cleared his throat, put on his happiest voice and said, “That’s awesome for both of you! You two deserve people like each other. Bring her along to the brownstone for the meeting, then. That’ll be good..” After he hung up, he cancelled his date. He didn’t want to put his mixture of emotions on anyone else tonight. That night, he opened a bottle of wine that he was saving for some special occasion or another… He never really had special occasions, so mostly wine that he saved for special occasions either remained right where they were, or rarely, there were nights like that night, where the occasion was that he found out the love of his life and the person he regretted hurting the most were together… and he didn’t know which one of them was which, even as he contemplated that fact. Both of them were, in their own ways, the love of his life. Charlotte had been his first love. Jasper had been his second chance. He didn’t fully grasp either of their importance until their presences were snatched away. Neither of them are that foolish. They’ll recognize what they have in each other and it will last forever. His lost ones. The ones that got away. They’ll have a great love. A beautiful love. A strong love. And… he might not ever be able to witness it, if he can’t charm Charlotte into putting up with him, but maybe worse, he’ll be able to and have access to her, then he’ll see it take place and mourn from the outside that they had (what they deserved) without him. He drank the entire bottle and fell asleep on the daybed on the terrace. He hadn’t felt sexual since then.

But, after he met up with Charlotte and Jasper, something happened. He grabbed his hygiene bag, like we covered before, he went to prep and recalled how Charlotte helped him step his game up, then he was thinking about when they used to share showers. She liked that. Sharing showers and stories in the steam, washing each other’s backs and each other’s hair, kissing, touching, oiling each other up to nourish the skin… everything else.

He wondered as he was washing off if she was doing that with Jasper now… Making him hotter, cleaner, flawless, while engaging in conversations that bring them closer together and just being sexy AF in the process. If they were in the shower, kissing, touching… everything else and before he knew it, he definitely was feeling sexual again. His libido had not failed him after all. It was the shower, so he made quick work of handling his business and moving along. However, when he got out of the shower, and prepared to do his face, he saw that he looked refreshed. He looked happy again. He at least looked like he was himself, again. So… Maybe he wouldn’t be on any dates any time soon, but fantasizing about Charlotte and Jasper wasn’t harming anyone and seemed to help him a lot this morning. So, that was what he would do, if he needed that.

#Poly Wanna #Nesha HD Fics #henry danger #henry hart #charlotte page #jasper dunlop #hd ot3 #Accidentally posted on the main if you got a dead tag

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pointlessutility · 5 years ago

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Deciphering rise of BTS through their content

Korean Culture

Koreans are deeply influenced by the Confucian philosophy, which emphasizes cultivated knowledge in comparison to creativity and a collectivistic society. Which is quite different from the Western thought.

Despite the political unrest after the Korean War that resulted in the division of the region, these two countries still share the same culture and traditional values.

The French Institut national de l'audiovisuel defines K-pop as a "fusion of synthesized music, sharp dance routines and fashionable, colorful outfits”. Songs typically consist of one or a mixture of pop, rock, hip hop, R&B, and electronic music genres.

The Confucian thought has a huge influence on Eastern political ideas; shaping the moral system, the way of life, social relations between old and young and their work ethic.

This gives us some insight about the highly systemized, regulated k-pop industry owned by three big names YG, SM JYP. That control every aspect of artist’ career to control publishing, licensing and advertising and in the end operating a star-making academy leaving the artist with no creative freedom. These trainees are put through years of intense musical and chorographical training; they have to sacrifice all guarantees of personal freedom, sleep and comfort. These trainees are monitored for height, weight and figure; they are put through extreme diet regimes, sometimes get plastic surgery done to resemble anime like body proportions. --- to produce idol groups designed to present the very highest standards of beauty, dance, and musicality in Korean popular music.

Korean pop stars have become cultural icons in the region and globally.

Kpop and BTS:

The Korean Wave Hallyu refers to the global popularity of South Korea’s cultural economy exporting pop culture, entertainment, music, TV dramas and movies since 1990s. And since 2000, the Korean government invests great sums in the country’s pop culture to appeal to an international audience. The South Korean government has dedicated a department solely to K-pop to promote the music in Korea and beyond.

It was within this environment that in 2010, a man named Bang Si-hyuk began to quietly build a different kind of studio, and to cultivate the band that would become BTS. His belief is to give the members creative freedom to work on solo tapes, producing and writing. BTS was first launched in 2013.

Where other modern day boy/girl bands have stuck to singing about love and heartache, from the beginning he has encouraged BTS to tell personal stories, and made it imperative to speak about things the group is feeling individually, in a whole that is the reason for the socially critical and introspective lyrics. Honest musical expression of one’s creative anxieties — would become a crucial element of BTS.

BTS is inspired by a hip-hop trio called Seo Taiji & Boys in 1990s who challenged norms around musical styles, song topics, fashion, and censorship, which was unprecedented for a culture whose musical production had spent the past few decades subjected to strict government oversight. They are considered pioneers of rebel music against the system in K-pop.

Seo Taiji, who’s been called the ‘Culture President, recently proclaimed Bangtan Sonyeondan (BTS) to be the true heirs of the original Korean pop ethos he gave birth to decades previously. While collaborating with BTS on his 25th anniversary on his song “ Classroom Idea”, which criticizes the oppressive education system of Korea. This song was written by Seo Taiji in 1994 when all teenagers were forced to stay in school from 7 am to 9 pm. For people without a college degree it would be hard to get jobs, they’d be treated as underdogs, paid no respect, and kept invisible in the society. (Video will be played and explain from it)

Education is considered crucial because of the Confucian tradition of respecting, learning and the particular national desire for greater achievements.

From BTS’ 2013 album O!RUL8,2? song N.O. also talks about students being overwhelmed by the expectations placed on them by elders, and the effect it has on their mental wellbeing. (in relation with the education system, BTS also has a song for it)

Then their 2015 album The Most Beautiful Moment in Life, Part 2; entails one of their most political song “Silver Spoon” or “Baepsae” it’s a bird in Korea translated as “Crow Tit” which is a small bird, considered as a weak one compared to a stork, crow tit has short legs and a stork has very long legs. The idiom goes “ a crow tit following a a stork will tear its legs”. Meaning when you try to do something out of your reach or capabilities you are likely to fail. Here storks are referring to people in power; big companies, conglomerates and the older generations. The crow tit being the younger generation. (they flap their hands like birds in their choreography).

They also use the metaphor of a teacher to refer to the older generation who are born with a golden spoon. So during the age of the storks or baby boomers (Baby boomer is a term used to describe a person who was born between 1946 and 1964) in South Korea they were experiencing huge economic growth and was extremely easy to get jobs, housing etc. But the economy of South Korea is now maturing and the side effects of ultra-fast economic growth have boomeranged to haunt the current generation. Millenials are facing high pricing of houses as well as high disparity between the rich and the poor and also all-time high youth unemployment.

Lyric, ‘Passion pay’ is a common practice in Korean society where companies pay young workers below minimum wage or nothing at all in return for experience. (lyrics will be shown in slide)

Speaks much about our society’s treatment to interns who go into the field to work. And the ‘given up generation’ saying that millennials are the generation who have given up on what may be considered as basic human rights and wants because of extreme high youth unemployment rates.

Sam-po-sadae (show the lyrics here) (read from ppt and explain these things gen Z has given up on). Millennial's giving up of romantic relationships, marriage, children, proper employment, homes, and social life in the face of economic difficulties and societal ills while facing condemnation from the media and older generations.

Then they go on to say that they want to change the system. Like this is not a normal situation. Society is sick but it also says we are not at the top yet and we have to push further. (video played and then this is explained).

Then BTS addresses how the older generation blames the millenials for their struggles saying that it is due to the lack of effort. Baby boomers seem to neglect the fact how society is completely different now compared to when they were growing up, also their economic situation is different. Saying that a lot of the problems millenials face today were infact caused by the baby boomers. But they seem to ignore this fact and tell the crow tits to work harder, try harder, put more effort.

Moving on to to their newer album “Wings”, song Blood Sweat tears, which is rich in literary and art references. Wings album is based on “Demian” a 1919 Herman Hesse novel that explore the psyche of the narrator as he grows up and loses his innocence and is on a journey to find himself. The ideologies presented in Demian are heavily influenced by the German philosopher Nietzsche. Nietzsche often wrote about the creation of the self. And more of his ideas in grounds of self-realization is central to Demian. (video playing in bg) There are motifs of mentorship shown in the video when each younger member is paired with an elder one. Jin the oldest member seen standing alone admiring the painting of the fall of rebel angels, the battle between good and evil. While gazing at this painting, Bminor plays in the background. Jin stands between two door, black and white, one good one evil. In Demian, Sinclair finds some freedom when Demian introduces him that the world cannot be categorized in binary such as good and evil. But rather there is good in all evil and evil in all good.

This concept is represented by the God called Abraxas, the god is nor good or evil but rather the affirmation of the existence of both. Saying that Sinclair will never find himself if he only acknowledges the realm of light he must seek knowledge and learn of both realms.

On the surface level one would say the song is about the dangers of temptation but through the imageries a lot of symbolism is shown, allusions from multiple sources of literature each symbol works harmoniously to create a larger system of meaning.

And their latest album Map of the Soul: Persona, based on archetypes of Carl Jung; is where they identify their stage persona as one part of their whole identities.

So as we see every succeeding album of BTS, one would witness the gradual growth of its members. With group and solo songs of each artist addressing issues like depression, anxiety, social and political injustice. Every member’s own identity plays a crucial role in building themes and concepts for their albums. And how they face these experiences that life brings them is translated in their albums.

Bringing us to the question, what is the machinery behind this idol group?

This boy band is still under a company which has its own producers. Bang-si-Hyuk (the founder), Pdogg (in house producer), Slow Rabbit (producer), Adora,Supreme Boi are the main producers. Main choreographer is Son Sung-deuk and J-Hope (member) takes part in choreography too (as he was a stret dancer earlier). Some members of the group have been credited as producers, RM, Suga, J-Hope and Jungkook.

The Korea Music Copyright Association attributes over 130 songs to RM as songwriter, composer, also including writing for member Jimin's solo song "Promise". The Korea Music Copyright Association attributes over 85 songs to Suga as a songwriter and composer. Suga won the 2017 MAMA (Mnet Asian Music Awards) best producer award for the song Wine. J-Hope produced his mixtape ‘Hope World’. Jungkook produced Magic Shop.

The group’s high-quality visual productions, largely produced by South Korean creative agency Lumpens, are frequently related to the themes of the band’s music. The agency has produced the visuals for some of their hits like Idol, DNA, Serendipity, I NEED U, Fake Love (Forbes article)

Pdogg production in "Love Yourself: Tear" with BTS hit the Billboard 200 albums chart and was nominated for Grammy Awards.

In an interview he was asked, to drop a hint about the sort of music BTS will come up in the future.

He replied, because a new series has started with ‘Love Yourself 承 Her’, we are planning to continue that. After that, [the decisions] will change based on BTS’ situation and the members’ sentiments at that point. The members put a lot of effort to make sure their characteristics can be shown through their music’.

The concept and themes the group work on for their albums come from them. Though the production may not be solely done by them. The ideas originated from the members are worked upon by the members alongside the company. The ultimate example of the members’ creative independence from their company is their personally composed, freely released mixtapes. They reflect each member’s individual personalities and creative orientations.

Bang-si-Hyuk gave BTS autonomy to run their own Twitter and vlog from their studio, and for the rappers to write alongside Big Hit’s in-house production team.

Since 2000, the Korean government invests great sums in the country’s pop culture to appeal to an international audience. The South Korean government has dedicated a department solely to K-pop to promote the music in Korea and beyond. These cultural exports have benefited the economy and country. BTS have become the youngest ever recipients of the Hwagwan (Korea’s) Orders of Cultural Merit for their services to the promotion of Korean pop culture and Hangul, the Korean alphabet.

How is bts so popular?

“We came together with a common dream to write, dance and produce music that reflects our musical backgrounds as well as our life values of acceptance, vulnerability and being successful,” said BTS’s leader, RM, in a 2017 interview with Time. Their latest record, Map of the Soul: Persona, made them the second group in history to have three No. 1 albums in a single year—the first was the Beatles.

There are six main ways BTS breaks with established precedent for K-pop boy bands to carry out this mission:

· They frequently write their own songs and lyrics.

· Their lyrics are socially conscious and especially attuned to describing the pressures of modern teen life in South Korea.

· They create and manage most of their own social media presence.

· They aren’t signed to “slave contracts,” nor do their contracts have the grueling restrictions of other idol groups.

· They tend to focus on marketing entire albums rather than individual singles.

· They talk openly about the struggles and anxieties of their career instead of presenting an extremely polished image at all times. (To be said- Rap Monster also differentiated the group by taking an open stand in favor of LGBT rights, a topic which is still highly incendiary in South Korea. Idols typically don’t take sides in such topics.)

A lot of these elements have been present in other k-pop groups- most notably Big Bang, which influenced BTS more than any other k-pop band. But Big Hit Entertainment systemized these elements in BTS and marketed it hard.

BTS has broken several charts records during each come-back in 2016 and 2017, not only locally but also internationally. Unlike other K-pop fandoms, BTS fans, span every age, gender and ethnic group -- BTS is not a teenage phenomenon, it is an intellectual phenomenon. Language barrier is no hinderance to spreading their message by their active fanbase who translate lyrics, make video compilations and create fan fiction about the band. Their messages penetrate through language, age, ethinicity and gender (need to add videos of older people attending their concert).

Even before their debut in 2013, they already had contents such as covers and dance practices, published through several medias (Youtube, blog, Twitter...). They have constantly tried to update fans on their activities through planned and unplanned interactions. The boy group was one of the first artists featured in the live broadcasting application launched by Naver in August 2015, V App. BTS’ social angle is always cited by the ARMY as the top reason for their ardent support.

This worldwide popularity is confirmed by their growing strength on social media (linked in article).

Besides being crowned music’s hereditary princes by Korea’s "President of Culture” Seo Taiji, some other prominent supporters of BTS include Korean music critics, philosophers, Jungian psychologists, Brazilian authors, American painters.

That BTS happen to have a small, intimate team to aid them in the production endeavour which does not make their work any less authentic, and it differs fundamentally from other K-pop companies.

K-pop, which has swelled in the past five years from a niche genre to a $5 billion global industry. “Somebody always has to be the one to walk down that path and cut through the jungle and make some noise, and I think that group [was] BTS,” says Phil Becker, vice president for content at Alpha Media, which owns 68 U.S. radio stations.

America and the UK have been the powerhouses of popular music — only three of the 30 highest selling artists of all time have come from elsewhere. It means that the dominance, in terms of both cultural influence and commercial prowess, has been held firmly within the grip of the West. In 2019, BTS came second on the worldwide list of best-selling artists across physical, digital and streaming platforms, beaten only by the all-conquering Drake. BTS have almost single-handedly pulled things back towards the East.

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starker-garbage · 6 years ago

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day four; mistletoe

12 days till christmas; starker day four: mistletoe all characters are portrayed as 18+ *non-powered au, intern!peter*

we’re doing today this way because i want to do it but idk how so whoop.

so it’s not exactly a fucking secret the peter parker would totally be pining after the incredible tony stark. i mean - it’s practically canon at this point.

anyway, he works at SI and he is just head over heels for his boss, which he knows isn’t exactly good, but whatcha gonna?

so, he goes to his friends, Ned and MJ, and is like ‘guys, i need dick, and i only need one (1) dick, tony stark’s.

so they’re all like ‘dude, just fucking ask him out or something,’

and peter’s just like ‘whattttttttt no,’

so he makes a plan to seduce tony stark.

and the only way he can think to do that is to be a basic ass bitch and hang mistletoe.

so the desperate intern runs to some damn store, gets the plant, and just hangs it up early when no one is paying attention.

now, he just needs to get caught under the mistletoe at the same time as tony stark.

but, tony is actually out that day, and will also be out the next.

so, peter was wanting a kiss, and now not getting one, so he’s really disappointed.

but, tony comes back (obviously) and peter just kind of gave up on the whole thing? like he was convinced that it was a bit overelabortate, and the chances of them both running into each other, under the green leaves, and then Mister Stark actually listening, it was just hard to all plan out, so he kind of just, stopped trying, even once he got back.

But then, it accidently actually happened. Peter was making copies for some dick that was over him, under Mister Stark, so basically dickwad would get the credit for what Peter was doing but whatever.

Peter’s copies were finished, so he hastily was trying to get the fuck out of there, to go give them to dickwad, and then go on his lunch break. anyway, the guy fucking runs into tony - and now since i’ve gotten to the point (literally this is such shit, i can’t - i’m going to start writing now and switch back to this format in a second)

“Woah - Woah - Watch out there,” A voice comes as Peter runs into someone. He looks up, hoping the freshly printed papers didn’t

rinkle

. When he tilted up his head, he was face to face with Tony Stark.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Peter began mumbling. “I should’ve been looking where I was going, Mister Stark,” Peter explained, getting a laugh in response.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony said, and if everyone was being honest, Peter was freaking the fuck out. This man, the man he idolized forever and was considered his celebrity crush since he could feel feelings like that had his body pressed against Peter’s.

Every single one of his instincts were telling him to get the fuck out of this situation, but at the same time he didn’t want to, because Tony was in a really nice suit, and he smelt really nice, so Peter just kind of stood there like a idiot.

Eventually, his brain did start working, and he backed up a bit, trying to walk past him correctly, but Tony side-stepped back in front of Peter with a playful smirk on his face. “I’m not just going to let you go, now,” He said, smiling.

Peter swallowed and looked up into the man’s dark brown eyes. “Wh - What do you mean?” He asked, to which Tony just pointed up.

“I think you owe me a kiss,”

Peter was flipping out. It worked. He was actually going to kiss Tony-Fucking-Stark because of mistletoe. He was going to rub it in MJ and Ned’s face, he was going to fucking kiss Mister Stark! It was actually going to happen. He was - “I’m just kidding kid, don’t worry,” Mister Stark laughed, letting the kid pass.

Peter wanted to fucking jump off a cliff.

so after work, peter called MJ and Ned in a group FaceTime and told them what happened at work. How he actually was going to kiss Tony Stark and how it didn’t happen.

“Tony jokes like that, but i thought he would actually kiss me,”

MJ laughed. “he was probably trying to avoid a sexual assault case with his company - kissing interns is a big no-no,”

Peter didn’t know how to reply, so instead he sighed and slightly changed the subject. “He’s just so hot,”

Ned and MJ both groaned. “If we hear those words come out of your mouth one more time -”

“BuT hE iS!”

anyway, life went on and peter still hadn’t kissed Mister Stark and he was quite upset about it.

so he decided he would take matters into his own hands a.k.a do what he does best - be a confident slut and kiss tony.

was it the best course of action, probably not, he could get fired, but then he could say he actually kissed Tony Stark, so it would be worth it in the end of everything.

The next day at work, Peter was instructed to go give papers to Mister Stark directly.

so, he made a quick plan of grabbing mistletoe and to prove he wanted to be kissed very badly and everything was fine so fucking kiss me mister stark, please.

walking into the office, the green and red cluster of plant behind his back, he wore a smile. he walked up to tony handed him the papers.

he was losing his nerve. he didn’t want to seem desperate, but who wasn’t desperate when it came to tony stark, the guy was fucking hot.

“thank you, parker,” He smiled, peter was going to just give up on the whole thing, keeping the mistletoe behind his back.

“What’s that in your hand?” tony asked. - you know what, we’re switching to the other format -.

“What’s that in your hand?” Tony asked, standing up out of his swivel chair and walking in front of his desk, leaning against it casually, tilting his head as he looked at Peter, who was now blushing. ‘I’m so fucking dumb’ he thought, as the mistletoe in his hand was still behind his back, his back that was facing Mister Stark.

“Nothing?” he asked, turning to face Tony.

“Mhm?” He asked. He used a finger to gesture Peter to come closer, and the intern did, walking as calmly as he could.

Peter stood in front of Tony, not exactly sure what to do, but there was a lot of tension, some could even say sexual tension. They just made eye contact for a bit before Tony quirked an eyebrow. “I think you owe me a kiss from earlier,”

Peter gulped. He blushed before leaning in, smiling against Tony’s lips as the kiss got longer and more intense. “I thought you said you were kidding,” Peter said, connecting their lips again, the statement was left ignored as Tony kissed more passionately.

Peter pulled away with a playful smirk. “What changed your mind about it all?”

“I wanted to make sure you really wanted it,” He mumbled against Peter’s neck. “Plus you’re really hot,”

Peter smiled, leaning his head back giving Tony more access.

Their lips were eventually brought back together, kissing lightly again, when Peter placed the plant on Tony’s dress pants. Tony couldn’t help but smirk as Peter slowly slid down, getting on his knees and smirking. He brought his head and leant it against Tony’s thigh. He went to act as if he was going to undo the zipper, then he stood up.

“I’m just kidding,” He smirked, leaning in to kiss Tony once more before walking out of the office. He rested a hand on the door frame and looked back. “Have a good day, Mister Stark,”

||i don’t really like this, but it is what it is. i was too lazy to write it all out because it was a lot of plot and wording and i deleted it three times, so this is what it is, i hope it was mediocre, also the format is off whatever||

#12 days of christmas #starkerchristmas #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider #mcu #marvel #StarkerChristmas2018 #original work

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