#which in turn got me on to franz ferdinand which opened up the door of 2004-2007 alt pop

[autoneurotic]

hiii everyone what are some bands or albums that shaped your music taste into what it is?? even if it’s music you’ve “outgrown”! my big ones are Franz Ferdinand, Interpol, Taking Back Sunday, and Straylight Run

[rome5683]

My Secret Mate - Chapter One

-this is an original piece, not a work of fanfiction-

I sighed to myself, slightly dreading what today would bring as I sat up in bed. I started getting ready, thinking of what would happen by the end of my birthday. The thought of having someone to love wasn't troubling, but not being able to choose who they were was. I didn't mind about gender, but their personality. What if they liked country, or if they hated reggaeton? What if they were human?

Human mates weren't exactly rare, but also not very common at all. It was just harder to explain, harder to connect with certain things, though many others with human mates in my pack made it look easy. It must be horrible, maybe. Would it really matter? As soon as I found my mate, I'd be like a hormonal and love-driven twelve year old all over again. It wasn't always something to look forward to, but when I would look at the pairs in my pack, I longed for that understanding and love.

I stepped out of the steaming shower, drying myself off with a towel before applying some lotion. Hygiene was important, after all. I put my boxers on, then flossed and brushed my teeth as hard as I could. Anything could happen today.

Mouth wash, cologne, a black crew neck and ripped black jeans later, I was almost ready for today. I slipped on some black doc martens, before glancing myself at the mirror and undecided about what to do with my hair. It was a black and curly mess, but I simply ruffled it and shrugged it off.

I walked downstairs, slightly confused when I saw my mom and dad bickering over something in whisper. I was used to tuning people out to be polite, and it was rude to eavesdrop even though we couldn't help hearing what everybody was up to most of the time. Instead of trying to listen in, I speculated it was about the party I planned for tonight, they promised to stay away for the night after opening up the party with ground rules and cutting the birthday cake. I had passed out fliers last week, so a lot of people from the pack and my high school were going. I was excited, the big eighteen was here, but I was still dreading finding my mate. What if they were cruel? What if they rejected me first? They were too many factors that had me buzzing with nervousness.

Mom gave me a stern look as I sat down in front of a plate of pancakes, "Xavi," her small accent barely showed on the usual, but when she said my name like that, it was prominent. The usual spelling of my popular name was with a 'J', but my mom decided to be original and put an 'X' instead. Most kids pronounced it wrong which I didn't mind, but if my mom heard them pronounce it differently, she would lose her shit. "I know it's your birthday, but you still need to eat your oats and your vegetables." She placed a bowl of oatmeal and a different bowl of carrots in front of me.

I groaned, "Can't you just give me bacon like dad?"

My dad smirked, biting into the strip of his bacon with a satisfied moan. I rolled my eyes and my mom shrugged, "Or we could cancel the party. It's up to you."

I scowled, biting the carrot with emphasized distaste. It was funny at times, how my petite mom could control us so easily with a simple look or statement, but she was no joke. She was the scariest, most loving mother around. The fact I was having this party was a miracle, but I guess she was feeling extra loving when she had said yes. Or maybe she thought it'd be better to find my mate with everybody from school there.

"So, you excited for today?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Yeah. I mean, it's gonna be the biggest party ever. And right at the beginning of October, it's gonna be sick."

My dad scoffed, "You know that's not what she meant."

My mom sucked in her teeth, scolding me. "Are you seriously not looking forward to meeting your mate?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I don't wanna be someone I'm not just because I met them. Do I even have a choice in loving them? If I reject them, pain. If they reject me, pain. What's the point? Why is this even a thing?"

My dad sighed, "I know what you mean. Your mom and I had a very complicated start, but it worked out. It can suck, feeling like you don't have a choice at times. But the moon goddess knew what she was doing, and we're really good together."

"But it's like they have control over you!" I felt the frustration engulf me, making me dread the moment I'd meet them. "Everything they do is gonna affect me, and it just isn't fair."

My mom placed a hand on my shoulder as I continued to eat, and my parents were silent as I stood up to put my dishes in the sink. The whole tension dissipated as my two siblings walked into the room, and my parents perked up. Monsè entered the room with a yawn, all dressed up for school in a baggy sweater and skinny jeans. She was fifteen, and usually rode with me to school. My brother, Lance, was just sixteen, a year and a couple months older than Monsè, and liked to ride with his friend Keith.

"Good morning!" My mom chirped as she placed their plates on the table, asking if they were going to attend the party and that if they screwed up anything, to make sure to let her know because she hated secrets.

I motioned to my sister to hurry up as I got my backpack by the door, and got the keys from a little dish next to the couch. I leaned against the arm of the sofa, taking out my phone and texting Lindsay to wait for me to pick her up before she went to school. She was my best friend, and was practically my sandbox buddy since we were four. I usually went to her before anyone else, she had a good level-head on her shoulders, and was better for asking advice than most of my other male friends. I also made sure to text Trent, my other good friend and his sister, Bella, my occasional hook-up (make-out session) when I was lonely, to meet up at our usual cafe. They were all werewolves, so it was easy to confide and trust in them. A tap on the shoulder made me turn, and I ruffled my sister's hair. "Let's get going, gremlin."

She whispered with a scowl, "Yeah, okay bitch."

"MONSE! YOU BETTER PRAY YOU GET IN THE CAR BEFORE I GET TO YOU!"

Her eyes widened before she sprinted out the door, and I chuckled as I followed her into the car. My car was a truck, so it was a little difficult for Monsè to climb in the passenger side, but she managed. I connected my phone to the aux cord and put my playlist on. My sister rolled her eyes as 'Take Me Out' by Franz Ferdinand played, though I could see her tapping her feet to the beat which made me smirk.

Lindsay jumped in the backseat with ease, "Hey, boomer. Hey, Monsè."

"Hey, Lindsay!" Monsè chirped energetically and turned around, smiling with a blush spreading over her cheeks.

I laughed, "Where's my gift?"

"Oh." She pretended to pull something out of her backpack, then pulled out her middle finger with a Cheshire grin. "Almost forgot."

Monsè laughed, holding the back of her hand against her mouth.

"Oh, thanks. Was missing that in my life, actually." I looked in the rear view mirror, noticing she didn't have her seatbelt. I kept driving down the street towards the cafe, it was an hour before school, around six pm, which was why the street wasn't that full and I felt confident to be able to pull a prank on her.

"Brake check!" I suddenly braked as I pulled into the lot, having Lindsay hit her head on the passenger seat with a loud screech. Monsè gasped, her seatbelt scratching against her neck as she was pulled forward.

"Agh! Son of a bitch-"

"Xavi! What the hell?" Monsè gave me a dirty look.

"I'm so sorry, guys. You okay?" I made my voice sound sickening sweet, and high pitched in order to sound as fake as possible. Monsè snickered lowly, not wanting to be so upfront about laughing at Lindsay. Lindsay was somewhat of a role model for her, and they talked all the time. I low-key suspected Monsè had a crush on her, which was cute but slightly sad since Lindsay was way too old for her. But, who knows?

We pulled up to our usual cafe at the corner of Maple and Lunescape. I parked in front, all of us talking about what we'll order when we get inside as we got off the car.

Lindsay huffed, "See, I haven't tried the pecan pie shake, but I also haven't tried the Pumpkin Maple Syrup Mocha, which I hear a lot of good things about.

I hummed in thought, "Well, it depends who you're hearing this from. They could be trying to sabotage you."

Monsè scoffed, "And why would they do that, Xavi?"

I shrugged, "Hey, you never know. Plus, pecan is a legit flavor and it can never really do you wrong."

Lindsay sighed, "Yeah, but I get pecan like every other day. I've never tried the pumpkin one... Oh, the tough choices in life. They plague me."

Monsè chuckled, "However will you survive?"

I shook my head as I held the door to the cafe open for them, "You're too indecisive. Just go for it if it's bothering you that badly. If anything, I'll drink it if you don't like the pumpkin."

Lindsay gasped, "Oh my god, yes!"

She raced to the counter along with Monsè as I saw Trent and Bella wave me over to their booth. I approached them with a grin, giving Trent a high five and a fist bump, while nodding my head towards Bella in acknowledgement.

"Trent. Bells. How's everything?" I sat across from them, scooting towards the window.

Trent shrugged, "Nothing new. How about you, birthday boy? Excited to find your mate?"

Bells smiled, "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks." I glanced over to Lindsay and Monsè to see them walking over with our drinks and pastries, "About the mate thing, it's whatever. Whether it happens or not, I'm fine."

Trent scoffed, "You're so weird, sometimesc. Everyone else in the pack looks forward to this their whole lives." He took an angry bite of his chocolate muffin, then swallowed before continuing. "I mean, even humans write stories about this kinda shit!"

Lindsay giggled as she squeezed into the booth on my side with Monsè, "Talking about mates again?"

I glanced at Bella, noticing she was intentionally staying silent. She looked up at me and blushed suddenly when our eyes met. I looked away, sighing exasperatedly. "Dude, I just don't think it's cool how we're forced to love someone. We have no choice but to be attracted to them."

Monsè groaned, "Because they're perfect for you!"

"Well, it's not really love at first sight. It's more like you subtly like them, and as you get to know them, you start to fall in love. Like normal people. Just think of it as a suggestion that they might be good for you." Bella smiles encouragingly, placing a hand on mine. "I'm sure your mate will be lovely."

I hastily pulled away, annoyed with the conversation. Seeing the slight expression of hurt on her face from the corner of my eye made me feel guilty, but I ignored the feeling. "I'm just gonna flat-out reject them, I honestly don't care."

Trent winced, "Isn't that supposed to be super painful?"

"He's always been a masochist." Lindsay rolled her eyes, sipping her Pumpkin Maple Syrup Mocha with glee.

Bella murmured under her breath, "Not really."

Everyone suddenly groaned, and I gave a small and playful glare to Bella.

Monsè faked a gag, "I just started my life. Please don't make me commit the 'not-alive' so soon."

Trent made a low growl, pulling his head back and closing his eyes as he faced the ceiling in an overdramatic manner. "Please tell me you guys aren't fooling around anymore. I do not wanna picture that."

Silence. He glared pointedly at me, "Are you?”

I stayed quiet, simply eating my strawberry and cheese croissant as I also avoided eye contact.

Trent cursed, "Fuck, man! Dude, she's my twin! How could you make out with someone that looks like me?"

I gave him a deadpanned stare as I sipped my boysenberry pie shake. The only sound was the slurping from my straw, and Trent narrowed his eyes at my both nonchalant and smug face. Bella looked at him confused, "We're fraternal, not identical."

He scowled, "Identical or not, this stops today. One, you guys are gonna have mates who you might not reject. Two, she's my sister. It's not cool, man. Three, do you not remember why you guys stopped fooling around in the first place?"

Bella's glared at her brother, "That was before."

Trent gave her a deadpanned stare this time, "Sure it was."

I shook my head, hating the awkward atmosphere that suddenly entered the booth. Last year, Bella had caught feelings during our arrangement, which caused a lot of confusion for me, and hurt for her. I ended it promptly after a huge scolding from her brother about playing around with her. He was the future beta of our pack, so I had to listen. But then she said she was over it now, so of course I believed her, since she was also a beta and somewhat had to believe her. But I wasn't that sure now.

I broke the awkward silence, "It's not like I'm sleeping with her, Trent. And even if I wanted to, I'm gonna reject my mate today. Maybe then I could choose who I wanna be with, whether it be physically or for life."

He took another angry bite, speaking with his mouth full, "Anf shwat if she doeshnt reshect hersh?"

I shrugged, "Thats up to her. Either way, I'd be free to do what I want."

Bella smiled to herself, and I cursed internally. I didn't want to hurt her, and I almost wanted to call it quits right then and there, but not for the reason you think, not for my 'mate'. Even though I could be physically 'lonely', it didn't mean I wanted to be forced to be with someone, whether it be Bella or my mate. The worst part was, there was no guarantee that I could reject my mate. Though I was determined to, there's no way to be able to predict what I'll think or act when I meet them. Though, the same thing could happen with Bella, so in reality, we were both in the same boat. Except I didn't have feelings for her in that way, I didn't have a desire to be in a relationship with her. She is physically appealing, but that was it. Sometimes I thought there was something wrong with me, she was kind and smart. Who wouldn't fall in love with her?

Me.

Lindsay changed the subject with ease, "So who's ready for that statistics test today?"

Trent groaned, "Is that today?"

Monsè went on her phone, not entirely interested or knowledgeable about what we were talking about since she was two grades lower than us. Bella shrugged, "I take AP calculus, so can't relate.

I smirked, "I studied, hard."

Lindsay raised an eyebrow, "That's a first."

I shrugged, "I wanna change my fate. I'm changing my life, one step at a time." Trent snickered as he heard my claims, "First, better than average grades. Second, no mate."

Monsè laughed, "Good luck with that one."

I scowled, "Mark my words. By the end of today, my mate is going to be rejected."

Monsè gave a cynical smile and a thumbs up, "Yeah, you're cool." Her smile dropped into a stoic face, "Can we go to school now before we're late? We've been here for forty minutes-"

I nodded, grabbing my keys and shooing them, Lindsay and Monsè, off my side of the booth. Trent and Bella stood up, walking with us outside.

"How about we make a bet Lindsay?"

She huffed, "You really think you'll win?"

I raised my eyebrows up and down with a grin, "Whoever gets a higher grade on the statistics test wins. Whoever loses has to drink five shots of tequila tonight."

Lindsay smirked, "You're on, bitch."

"Hell yeah." Trent patted me on the shoulder, "I'll join you guys in that."

I shook my head, knowing there was barely a chance for him to win. Not that he was an idiot or anything, but he didn't really try a lot in school. He rarely studied, but he always managed to get a passing grade. A higher score than Lindsay or me, though? Not really. "You know you only wanna take shots."

He shrugged, "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna beat your ass."

I sighed, "Never gonna happen."

Trent chuckled, "What if I used my awesome beta powers to force you to lose?"

I scoffed, "They're barely worth anything. I'd just tell Ryder you're abusing your power."

Ryder was our pack's, which was named Blood Moon after his great-grandfather's threatening intimidating ways, future alpha. He was cool, and we hung out with him every other day, but right now he was out of town with his parents for a little family bonding. Since he was going to find his mate soon, his parents wanted to spend some more time with him. That's what they told the pack, at least, but Trent had told me that there might have been more to it, like how the humans were suspicious of something. I didn't pay too much mind, Trent was known to have conspiracy theories from time to time.

"He'd just join me!" Trent laughed.

I grinned as I unlocked the car for Lindsay and Monsè, "Fuck yeah, he would. But at least then it'd be a fair fight."

Trent flipped me off as he unlocked his car too, opening the door for his sister. "Race you to school?"

I shrugged as I sat down and closed the door, starting the car. I rolled the window down with a nonchalant expression, "For twenty?"

"I'm feeling charitable. Make it forty."

I smirked, "On your mark."

His face went into panic as he raced to his side, "I'm not even in the car yet-"

I raised a brow, "Get set."

He jumped into the driver's side, slamming the door.

"Go!" His engine roared to life as I reversed out of the lot, swerving to go forward towards the school. I wasn't confident I'd win, his car was faster than mine, which was why I cheated and took a small head start. He had a black sports car, I didn't really know what kind and I didn't care. My truck could be fast if I pushed the limit, which was okay since there wasn't a lot of people on the road. Save for some here and there.

Trent passed me with ease, smirking my way. I huffed, pressing the gas harder.

Lindsay held onto the dash board, "Damn, you really wanna win, huh?"

Monsè chuckled, "It's nice to see how testosterone can be fun."

I clenched my jaw, focused on the cars ahead of us. I didn't wanna break any laws besides maybe the speed limit, so I changed lanes to the right. It was a small detour, but with the red light, I could turn into another street and possibly beat him.

I laughed as I turned into another street, him stuck on the same one. I turned left, waiting for the green light, then left again. I sped more seeing the school just ahead, skidded just ahead of Trent's car, and into the lot with ease.

I parked right by the entrance, turning off the engine as I hopped out of the car. I saw Trent's car pull into the space next to me right after I pulled into mine, and I grinned smugly as I leaned against my car. He sighed, closing his car door and sauntered over with hurt pride.

"Listen..."

I held back a laugh, biting my lip. "I'm all ears."

"You're an asshole. And you cheated so..."

I held my hands up, "You never spoke about any rules, so..."

"Well-"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have forty on me right now-"

"What do you have, Trent?" I furrowed my brows, and squared my shoulders. I was putting on a front, of course. I held my hand out expectantly.

Lindsay placed her arm on my left shoulder as she cocked her head, "Yeah, Trent. What do you have?"

Monsè and Bella walked over, grinning at the spectacle. Trent wasn't always one to lose in our races, so it was a rare sight to see, which was why I was being so smug.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, pulling a twenty and a ten out of his wallet. He slapped them into my hand, "Fuck you."

I smiled, "Maybe when I reject my mate."

Trent playfully punched my shoulder, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Lindsay shook her head, "You guys are something else."

Bella patted my shoulder, "So, you guys are a cute couple."

"Hey. Are you making fun of us?" We walked through the door and into the first hallway, and the faintest smell of something amazing filled my nose. I couldn't tell what it was, but something in me just had to find out.

"Maybe." She held her hands behind her back with a sly smile, "So wanna meet up during study hall?"

My wolf stirred, his gruff voice echoing in my mind. Mate. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I could sense it. They were here.

"Hey, man. You good?" Trent's voice faded into the background.

I don't know what it was that made me ignore her and lightly jog down the hall. When I turned into another hallway, the smell got stronger, and I jogged a little faster. I could detect apple cinnamon, but not the strong kind, the kind you eat in oatmeal, and maybe some... I couldn't pinpoint the other smell. I walked into another hallway, I wasn't even focused on where I was at this point, and came up to a row of lockers. One locker was open, and I knew the smell was coming from there... from them.

The locker closed. My breath hitched, and I saw the most beautiful male I've ever seen in my life. I could hear my inner wolf howl at the sight of him. His hair was chocolate brown, and a straight, disheveled mess. He had a slight fade on the side of his hair, and his eyes were a solid dark green. His complexion was slightly pale but very clear, with prominent cheekbones, and with the slightest plump to his lips. His jaw was pretty clean, not super sharp to stand out, but enough to be defined. He wasn't much shorter than me, maybe by an inch, and his stature was slightly less muscular than mine. He was wearing a blue long sleeved v-neck, blue skinny jeans, and some vans. He looked to me, startled to see me blatantly staring at him, and I blinked in realization. Oh god. Oh no, fuck no. He's human. I can't just reject him without being a weirdo now. Why? I didn't expect my mate to be so... fucking ravishing. That's not the point. Jesus help me.

"Hey! Um, you must be wondering what I'm doing here... staring at you."

He let out a melodic laugh during the awkward tension, "A little bit, yeah."

"Well, I was gonna, um," I came to a blank, speaking without really thinking, "I was wondering if you heard about this party I'm having tonight."

His eyebrows raised a little, "I think I've heard about it, yeah."

"Oh, cool." I leaned against the lockers, biting my lip without really wanting to. I was flirting without even meaning to, "So, you going?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, "I'm not really sure."

I chuckled, "You see, it's my birthday. So you kind of have to go."

He laughed, "Is that so? Happy birthday, then."

"Thanks. Yeah, it'd be kind of a dick move not to go." I liked the playful banter, I felt my heart beat faster, and a warm feeling spread throughout my body.

"What if I want to be a dick?" That made me laugh, maybe a little harder than I should.

"Well... damn. That sucks. I was hoping I'd get to know you." His expression changed from playful to astonished, and maybe a slight blush forming on his face. Maybe. "No. Wait. That came out wrong. I mean, it's my senior year, and I wanna... meet new people. Broaden my horizons..."

"Oh. Yeah, no. I get it." He leaned his shoulder against the locker, tapping his finger against his backpack strap in thought. "Um, I'll think about it."

"Yeah." I walked a little backwards, "You better, because it's my birthday, so..."

He nodded, a smirk lining his face as he turned away. Jesus, even his backside was attractive. I felt a part of me curse, and a part of me felt so elated right now. I wanted to go punch something, to run and jump, I couldn't decide.

The warning bell for first period rang, and I tensed. Statistics was next. I'd have to answer why I ran off, though I suspected they knew the answer why.

I walked in just in time, sitting next to my usual seat next to Lindsay, Trent, and some girl whose name I could hardly remember. She was friendly, I guess.

I looked around, wondering if he was in my class. Was he in any of my other classes? The fact I'd never noticed him before should be illegal. A snap in my face got my attention, and I looked to Lindsay in confusion.

"What's up?" She frowned at me, practically glaring.

"What's up? What do you mean, 'what's up'?" She scoffed, her auburn hair swaying to the side as she looked to Trent as if to make sure she wasn't tripping out. She raised her pierced eyebrow at me, "What was earlier all about?"

I sighed, knowing I couldn't exactly lie to her. I debated on staying quiet, but knew she'd just bother me until I fessed up. "I met them."

She gasped excitedly, "You're kidding!"

"Miss Pierce! Is there something you'd like to share as I do roll-call?" Mr. Damocles was a burly man, frowning as he pushed up his glasses. Trent snickered.

Lindsay sighed, "Sorry, Mr. Damocles."

He continued to do roll-call, and she spoke in a whisper. "So, tell me what happened."

"Tell us." Trent corrected her.

I shook my head, mostly disappointed in my lack of resolve when it came to wanting to reject my mate. "I don't know his name..."

Lindsay's eyes widened, "It's a guy. Oh my god, yes. Was he cute?"

I failed to hide my smile, "Yeah. He had these eyes..." Thinking about them made my stomach do flips, "And his lips. Jesus, I couldn't believe I never noticed him before."

Trent scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You are so whipped. What happened? Did you... you know?"

I looked down, not really knowing if I planned to anymore. If I even wanted to anymore.

"Xavier Ramon."

I raised my hand, signaling my presence. Mr. Damocles continued roll-call, and Lindsay groaned impatiently.

"Well? What happened?"

I scratched the back of my neck, "I, uh..." I closed my eyes, slightly embarrassed as I replayed the scene in my head. "I asked him to the party tonight."

I heard a small chuckle, and I frowned at both Lindsay and Trent. "What?"

She looked to Trent with a grin, "I give it a month before he marks him."

"I give it three." He shrugged, "It takes time to build up a relationship like that."

"It doesn't have to happen during sex, Trent. It can be during a make out session or something."

I scoffed, "Nobody said I was going to accept him right off the bat-"

"But you're not rejecting him either." Trent smugly grabbed paper from the girl passing them out, and passed them to us as well. "So three months it is. Denial is a huge factor."

"I change mine to a month and a half."

I rolled my eyes, "Well, they're human, so it's a little more difficult. Plus, I just wanna know who I'm rejecting before I... reject them."

They both laughed, and I cursed under my breath. This whole mate situation was going to be a bitch.

——

@kaiparker-islife @fandom-strumpet @1-800-khaleesii @kaiparkercumslut @itssdiana

Pls reblog, like, and review ❤️

[ragnarachael]

the valiant arsonist — worry

Pairing: Loki x TVA Agent!Reader

Word Count: 2,273

Summary: You're not sure what to do with the new found information Loki's given you, and you meet what seems to be a new hire.

Note(s): this is part two of WHO KNOWS HOW MANY also the gif has nothing to do with the content of my fic,,,, i just love watching it and watched it for like.. 5 mins before adding it on here. (also shoutout to @klargreeves for their loki post about how he’s the reason behind Julius Caesar getting stabbed!! it’s mentioned briefly in this piece!) 

file no. 1 file no. 2 (you are here)

"You're going to what?" You asked suddenly, panic starting to flood through your veins. Loki just stayed still, the smirk on his face still evident as the sunlight from the singular window beamed down onto his pale skin.

"You heard me, darling," he stated. "I don't believe it needs repeating."

You tried to form words, but every time you opened your mouth, shock took over and made you silent.

"Be sure to keep that mouth shut, pet, or I'll readily find another use for it," Loki quipped from his seat, his smirk only growing as you recoiled in disgust from his comment.

"Why would you be burning this place to the ground?"

"Is it not obvious? Your team has captured me. I would rather be out in the world continuing my personal vendetta and not continue to be locked up in this Hel you deem as your place of work." You blinked at the God as you started to slowly stand from your seat. "I thought your kind were smarter than this."

"Well," you started, stepping around your chair to push it back in how you found it as you tried to ignore the gravity of his reply. "We are."

Loki scoffed out a laugh that definitely shook you to your core. "Now that, I beg to differ, darling. Just because you are simply a researcher does not mean you're knowledgeable."

To say that his comment hurt you would be an understatement.

"Stop with the nicknames. Just—Just stop," you demanded weakly, taking in a shaking breath as you tried to stand up straight, squaring your shoulders again. "Is there anything else you have planned?"

"Like I would tell you," Loki replied easily, the smirk finally going away to be replaced with a venomous smile.

You sighed quietly and found your hands rubbing your face for a moment.

"This has been... enlightening," you finally began, forcing a kind smile at Loki. "Thank you for your response, Loki. We'll be in touch."

You turned to leave before you could even get a reply, twisting the doorknob and pressing against the door again once you were on the other side, feeling like you could finally, finally breathe clean air.

Loki was quick to get under your skin and make you even more anxious about speaking with him than you were to begin with. Maybe that's what he had as powers.

Maybe.

Or, perhaps he was just a huge prick from some kind of family of Gods.

Regardless, you had little time for recovery as you could hear the radio's the security guards used coming from the opposite end of the hall. So, you pulled yourself together and made it seem like you were checking on the guards to see that they were back from their break.

After giving a brief welcome back to the men you smiled and walked back into the sea of desks, easily navigating to your own before looking through your small stack of files to dig up your research.

Loki's voice was still echoing in your head.

I'm going to burn this place to the ground.

It still made you shudder, even thinking about the smirks and smiles he gave you when you two conversed. Frankly, you could feel the hair on your arms standing up just thinking about it.

This also made you realize that no one noticed where you had gone. It was suspicious for sure. Everyone who worked at the TVA knew who was doing what at all times.

Maybe you were actually sneaky enough.

You grabbed a pen and started to manually write down everything you could remember from your visit with Loki, ignoring the painful scratch of the pen tip against the paper as your writing speed picked up.

Once you had finished transcribing the conversation in your notes, it finally crossed your mind that you were right.

Loki is planning something. And your director didn't believe you.

You could tell her, but that was at the cost of admitting how you got that information...

Or, you could just sit back and watch what would happen while the rest of the group figured a plan of attack to get Loki to talk and admit to his actions.

Sighing, you closed your research files and started to reach for the file that held all of Loki's time disturbances, deciding that you should brush up on the information and not actually believe anything this man says.

He is a criminal, afterall.

The manila folder was thick. Thicker than you remembered from the first time you had discovered the slight disruptions in the multiverse, and you wouldn't be too shocked if there was another folder to accompany the first one.

Upon opening the folder, you saw what little profiling the TVA had on Loki. It was stapled to the left side of the cardstock, all printed in black and white ink. Your eyes drifted to the technical mugshot that was taken of Loki the day you caught him and could feel fear starting to bubble in your stomach.

He had that devious smile as he stared right into the camera. Next to the mugshot was the simple basic identification questions, but next to race, place of birth, family, and species there were question marks followed by unknown.

At least you knew that he could most certainly be a God.

After eyeing the rest of the document, you turned your direction to the stack of papers that were attached to the right side of the folder, looking at the neon green sticky note on the top.

"All known time disturbances for inmate 60383," you easily read aloud off the sticky note before lifting the sheet it was stuck on to see another sheet full of images and handwritten descriptions. "Oh my god.."

You don't know how the pictures were taken or even who took the pictures (let's be realistic, it was probably the Chronomonitors up stairs), but it looked like the Theatre of Pompeii.

From 44 BC.

Your mind made the connections immediately, noticing the Greek architecture and the pictures varying with men of all sorts stabbing another man.

It was the Ides of March. Well—March 15th. The day Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times.

Loki was behind that assassination, because of course he was.

As you continued in his files, you found that he was actually behind a lot of mishaps in history.

Including but not limited to: causing the French Revolution in 1789, The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand—also the assassination of Alexander The Great's father—and many, many more things that just so happened to change history in the universe.

It was giving you a headache, learning everything he's accomplished in such a short time. It's like mischief was his job.

"Wait a second," you mumbled to yourself, twisting in your office chair slightly to click around on your computer screen to open a search engine. Once you opened the first search engine your mouse could find, you typed in Norse Mythology and waited for the screen to load. Your computer was taking ages, which let you have your eyes wander on your desktop before catching the time in the upper right hand corner of your computer screen.

It was 12:30 in the afternoon.

Cursing quietly you were quick to get up from your seat, almost forgetting to close the loading window of your search as you grabbed your jacket that you tossed on the corner of your desk forever ago when you came in at 6 this morning.

"Okay, jacket, wallet—" you let your hand slip into your back pocket, feeling the plastic edge of Travis's I.D. as you pulled it out of the pocket. You've never been faster to shove something deep within the confines of a random desk drawer, cursing as you grabbed your car keys in rapid succession before practically flying through the sea of desks provided by the TVA officials.

The elevator was... calming. In a way. Smooth jazz playing on the speakers followed by occasional dings that signified what floor you were passing.

Until you were stopped on the 13th floor of the building, a man stepped in. He was tall, short dirty blond curls resting pristinely on his head. His hair actually looked to be borderline auburn thanks to the lighting in this metal deathtrap, you noted. You also noticed he was dressed up in an almost similar get up as you were that researchers were required to wear in the office.

The two of you gave awkward yet kind smiles to each other as he stepped in, hands in his jean pockets.

"Uh, what floor?" You asked softly, gesturing to the panel you were standing close to. The man glanced at the board.

"Same floor as you," he replied with the same tone.

He had an accent. A british accent. He reminded you of someone from Earth-199999, and you couldn't put your finger on it.

All you did was nod in reply before letting your hands go into your jacket pockets, redirecting your gaze to the elevator doors as the beeping started to continue as you passed floors.

After passing floor ten, you started to actually look closely at the man.

His jawline looked like it was structured by some higher power, and if you were to try and even touch you'd have cut something open. His stubble dusted over the sharp edges, though. It looked a lot softer than it might if he were clean shaven—which with the policies in the TVA, would be soon—and frankly, you'd like to see it.

It's almost like he looked like—

"Tom Hiddleston!" You exclaimed, finally making the connection in your brain.

"I beg your pardon?" The stranger asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Sorry, it's just," you started, laughing awkwardly, "you look a lot like this famous actor from Earth-199999. Tom Hiddleston."

"Oh," he started while shifting on his feet, seeming to step closer to you. "He's in that one show on Broadway, isn't he?"

"Yeah, uh, Betrayal I think it's called? I can't remember. It's been ages since I've looked at those files from that case forever ago."

There was a brief pause between the two of you before you took a breath and decided to introduce yourself, holding out your hand as you tried to relay your name without the awkward tone you still had in your voice.

The man smiled again and let one of his hand out of his pocket to shake your own. "Jonathan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, not Tom Hiddleston—"

"Don't start that," Jonathan groaned playfully, the both of you sharing a laugh. "Are you part of Director Love's team?"

You nodded as you recovered from giggling in your corner of the elevator. "Yeah."

"She's really a piece of work."

"Yeah, but she gets her missions done," you replied easily, looking up at Jonathan. "Are you with Director Wilson?"

Jonathan looked confused for a moment before shaking his head, "no, no. Director Mills."

"Ah. Heard he's a tough guy."

"He's like the drill sergeant I've never had."

The two of you shared a laugh again before a comfortable silence took over the space. The jazz music seemed to have stopped playing now, which confused you slightly before Jonathan spoke up again.

"I don't mean to be rude or.. or break the rules, but what's your current mission about? Isn't it with that Loki guy?"

You hesitated for a moment. Why would you tell Jonathan anything about your mission? You've never seen him around before, let alone get told about him period. He seemed like a new hire. Newer than you.

That alone made you want to slam one of the buttons on the elevator wall so you could get off to avoid this whole topic.

And yet, you nodded, still under his curious gaze as you took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Inmate 60383. He's.. He's, well," you exhaled uneasily, letting out a weak laugh, "he's definitely something."

Jonathan didn't seem to like that answer enough.

"Something? What is that meant to mean?" He sounded like he was offended on Loki's behalf. You couldn't help the look you gave the man. It was a mix of confusion and offense.

"If you tried to interrogate him, you'd get it." You let out a sigh as you could feel the tension rise between the two of you, the elevator finally getting to the first floor of the building. The usual automated voice rung out in the metal box, announcing arrival to the first floor before the doors opened.

You were quick to get out, Jonathan following behind as he called your name. He probably noticed he struck a chord with his question.

Luckily, you were the only two in the main lobby of the TVA building as he kept trying to get your attention.

You grabbed the handle to the doors that led to the parking lot, turning around to look at Jonathan who seemed to look apologetic as he said your name one final time.

"I-I'm sorry for my comment. Really. I just want to know more about Inmate 60..."

"60383," you finished for him, part of you thinking you should be feeling skeptical about this whole situation.

"Yeah. 60383."

"Well," you started, letting your hand fall from the door handle, "I can't tell you anything, it's protocol. And I'd like to keep my job."

And with that, you threw open the main door to the building and walked out to the parking lot to head to your car and finally meet up with Travis for lunch.

[fourdaysofrain]

By Any Other Name

Summary: 5 times Peter called Mr. Stark Tony, and one time he called him something else entirely. 

(Still set in the Irondad oasis between Homecoming and Infinity War)

Read on AO3

i. in the lab

It started, as most of their personal conversations do, during a late night in the lab. Peter was alternating between working on a history worksheet and his web-shooters, switching between the two projects when he ran out of steam. Tony was idly tinkering with a box of scraps while he waited for FRIDAY to process his newest idea for nanotech, which would take at least another hour. It was a gentle kind of silence that filled the room, only broken by various lab noises that they had both since learned to tune out-- a whir here, the ting of a fallen screw there, the soft scratching of a pencil on paper. 

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter said, his voice easily carrying over the room, “What was the main catalyst for World War I?”

There was a short pause while Tony switched his attention from the growing pile of machinery in front of him to the teenager across the room before he answered, “Franz Ferdinand’s death.”

“Thanks,” Peter responded as he quickly wrote something down, “that’s what I thought, but I wasn’t sure about his name.” He laughed to himself softly, but it faded when he looked up to see Tony looking at him intently.

Tony took a breath to center himself before speaking. How could he tell the kid every time he called him Mr. Stark, it just reminded him of shitty fathers and childhoods spent masquerading like adults and drinking to avoid the stares of students and professors alike and-- he cut off his spiral with a short sniff. He decided casual was the best way to approach this. 

“Hey kid, why do you still call me Mr. Stark?”

Peter blanched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

“It’s just that you’re a billionaire and a literal superhero, and May raised me to be respectful, I guess. There’s nothing more to it.” If it weren’t for the slightly more hysterical than normal nervous laugh that followed, Tony might have believed him. 

“You call Rhodey by his first name,” Tony countered, “well, technically by his middle name, but the point stands.”

“That’s different because Rhodey’s not--” the man who spends all of his time either protecting me or poking fun at me, my childhood hero, my quasi-dad parental figure type person “--my mentor.” 

“I can safely say that as your mentor, and given that you are also a ‘literal superhero,’” he rolled his eyes, successfully getting an annoyed smile from Peter, “I hereby grant you the ability to call me Tony.” He punctuated his words with a quick flourish of his hands. 

Peter sighed before making hesitant eye contact, tapping his fingers against the leg of his jeans, “Okay… Tony.”

“That wasn’t too bad, was it? The world is still standing, the clock is still ticking,” now it was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, “and speaking of the clock still ticking, looks like we let it tick a little too long. Time for bed, Spiderling.”

Peter reacted quickly to the change in conversation, “I can’t go to bed yet! I still have a few questions on this worksheet, and it’s due tomorrow!”

“You should have thought about that sometime before--” his eyes flitted to the clock and back, “--12:30 am. Jesus kid, you really do have to get to bed. Don’t want you taking after me too much.” 

Tony tried to keep his tone light and joking, but it fell flat. Peter and him made eye contact for a second that seemed to stretch towards infinity before Tony looked away, pretending to study something on his desk.  

“I mean, red and gold aren’t my colors, but I could manage,” Peter joked. 

Tony chuckled at that, letting himself live in a world where his biggest regret was Iron Man’s suit design for a few moments. 

“C’mon kid, flattery will get you nowhere. Let’s close up for the night.” He didn’t bother with clearing the scraps off his desk, he would go back down to the lab after making sure Peter went to bed. 

“Please let me finish this, I promise it’ll be less than five minutes. I’ll even use FRIDAY so I can go even faster!”

“Kid, only you could make cheating sound like a good thing,” Tony took a beat to decide, as if Peter didn’t already have him wrapped around his finger, “Alright, just don’t tell your aunt that I let you stay up so late, it makes me look irresponsible. Or Pepper, for that matter. Thank God she’s still on her business trip or we would both be in trouble.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark-- Tony. I’ll be out of here soon.” 

Tony huffed out a laugh at the kid’s antics as he walked across the room to grab some more tools. 

True to his word, Peter finished his homework in record time, thanks to FRIDAY’s seemingly endless database of information. Just as Tony was relaxing into the steady back and forth of their conversation, he heard the harsh zip of Peter’s backpack.

“Alright, it’s all finished, so I can go to bed now,” Peter said, looking pointedly at Tony. 

“What’s with the look?”

“I think if you’re forcing me to go to bed, you should too.” Peter normally lost his filter when he was tired, so Tony shouldn’t be surprised that he’s getting rightfully called out.

“How about this-- I’ll walk you up, and then you can pretend I went to bed and not listen to my footsteps as I come back down here.” 

Peter rolled his eyes but saved the witty comeback. He instead just walked to the door with his backpack and looked back at Tony like a dog getting ready for a walk. The imagery made Tony laugh to himself. 

“Alright, I’m coming. FRI, put the lights to 50% all the way to Pete’s room.” A quick confirmation from the AI was all he needed to open the door and lead the way to the bedroom wing. He slung an arm around Peter, grasping his shoulder as the kid walked sleepily beside him.

They walked in amicable, or just tired, silence until they got to Peter’s door. May let him spend the night enough times that Peter finally felt comfortable enough to take ownership of the room, instead of having everyone pretend it was the guest room. It had a small whiteboard on the outside, reminding Tony of his days in the dorms at MIT. Tony smirked when he saw that someone, probably one of Peter’s Midtown friends, had drawn a spider building a web in the corner. 

“Last stop, Underoos,” Tony said, softly breaking the silence. Peter mumbled a thanks as he went to open the door. He looked at Tony expectantly for a beat before walking into his bedroom. 

“Goodnight, Tony,” came Peter’s voice from inside as the door closed behind him. Tony frowned. He sounded disappointed. He shrugged it off as lack of sleep.

“Night Pete,” he replied.

He stood still in front of Peter’s door. He wanted to go back to the lab to work on his newest idea for nanotech. He knew FRIDAY would be done with rendering the new models by now. Nonetheless, he signed before continuing down the hall to his own bedroom. That damn kid. 

ii. in the kitchen

The kitchen was filled with the aroma of warm spices. Peter followed it like a cartoon character after a pie. He expected to find Pepper, or maybe even Rhodey, baking something to share with everyone. He wasn’t prepared to see Tony Stark wearing an apron with the Mark VII’s arc reactor printed on the chest while singing proudly along to the music playing through FRIDAY’s speakers. Peter could have sworn he saw that apron at a tourist shop somewhere downtown. He walked into Tony’s line of sight, causing him to stop singing and tell FRIDAY to turn the volume down, though he didn’t look at all embarrassed at being caught. 

“Hey kid, have you ever had my famous molasses cookies? They’re an old Stark recipe. My mom taught me, her dad taught her, his dad... et cetera. It’s passed onto the firstborn. Top secret stuff.” He shot a silly wink across the room. 

Peter shook his head, still shell-shocked from seeing Tony acting so… domestic. 

“Well, today’s your lucky day. The first batch just came out.” Tony motioned to where a dozen cookies were sitting on a wire rack, and Peter eyed it hungrily. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” As Pete moved to the counter to grab one, Tony stepped in to block his way.

“What’s the magic word?” he asked playfully. 

“Please?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with a smirk, “for me, it’s Tony.”

Peter shook his head as he said, “Sorry. Thanks, Tony.” He was rewarded with a clear path to the cooling cookies. He walked over and grabbed one, nowhere near as excited as he was a few seconds earlier. Tony frowned.

“What’s up, Pete?”

“Nothing,” Tony fixed him with a hard stare, and Peter took a second before continuing, “it’s just that calling you Tony is weird for me.” He grabbed a few cookies and a napkin, and sat at the counter across from Tony, not eating them yet.

“Why would it be weird? It’s my name, right?” Peter nodded, so he continued, “Mr. Stark is what everyone called my dad, or what people trying to brown-nose called me. Neither of those options makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You’re better than them, kid.” A flash of guilt went over Peter’s face, but Tony convinced himself he imagined it. 

“It’s just I already had the habit of calling you Mr. Stark, so it’ll take me a while to get used to it. No biggie,” he ended with taking a bite of a cookie, “Oh my God, these are insane! Why have you never made them before?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but was willing to let it slide for now. 

“Next time, I’ll teach you the recipe so you can make them yourself,” he said casually.

“Um, didn’t you say the recipe was for Starks only?” Peter looked up from his cookies to Tony, his eyes wide and innocent. 

“Yeah well,” Tony scratched his eyebrow, searching for what to say, “just don’t tell TMZ and I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Peter smiled softly to himself as he continued to eat. Tony failed to suppress his own warm smile as he started to scoop out the next batch. The unsaid message was heard loud and clear.

You’re family. 

iii. at home

May and Peter were eating take-out at the table, May’s failed dinner residing somewhere in the dumpster outside. The clinks of their silverware and their warm conversation filled the apartment. 

“So what are your plans for this weekend? Ned seemed excited about something last time I saw him,” May asked as she took another bite. Peter made sure to swallow his own mouthful of food before responding.

“He got a new Lego set, and I’m going to help him build it on Sunday. But Friday night I’m going to spend the night at Tony’s, he said he already cleared it with you, and then Saturday I’ll probably be patrolling and doing homework all day.” Peter looked at May to find her smiling at him. He gave her a confused look.

“It’s so funny to hear you call him Tony. Like he’s a high school friend or something.” Peter laughed along with her goodnaturedly. 

“He said Mr. Stark makes him feel like his dad, so I’m getting used to saying Tony.”

“I can imagine. If you called me Mrs. Parker I think I’d have to kick you out.” May and Peter shared a playful smirk.

“Yeah well, that’s different. You’re my aunt, he’s Iron Man!” Peter still couldn’t hide his feeling of awe at personally knowing the Iron Man. May just smiled sweetly at him. 

“And being your aunt is the closest to a superhero I ever want to be,” May said as she reached over and rubbed his cheek, “and speaking of Tony, you should invite him over for dinner sometime. I’m willing to let him try to win me over after seeing how much he matters to you.”

Peter blushed but nodded. May hummed in response, and they kept eating dinner.  

iv. at the front desk

Peter swore under his breath. He’s supposed to be working on Dum-E and U’s little brother right now, but he has to get to the lab first. He was in the lobby of the tower (Tony decided not to sell it after the whole plane crash incident), and couldn’t think of how to get past the front desk. His suit was still being repaired in the lab, so he couldn’t just crawl up the side of the building. Happy didn’t drop him off today, so he couldn’t use his ID card, and his phone died on the cab ride over, so he couldn’t just text Mr. Stark-- Tony.

He’s gotten better with calling him Tony, but it still feels clunky and strange on his tongue. And now, he had the added guilt of making Tony think of his dad every time he messed up. They didn’t talk about it much, but Peter was good enough at understanding subtext to know he wasn’t a good person to be reminded of. He hated to see the hurt look on his face when he couldn’t say Tony with the same excitement as Mr. Stark. But how do you explain to someone that using their first name makes you think of your dead uncle?

Peter knew he’s had a lot of trauma in his life, especially regarding the death of family members-- specifically, parental figures. 

He called Richard “Dad” because that’s what he was, and that’s all he thought mattered at that age. He taught him to tie his shoes, he was there when he was born, and he heard his first word. But then, he died. And Peter moved in with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. 

He called Ben by his first name because Dad was already taken. It was a simple decision. They had a conversation one night where Peter said he saw Ben as a father in every way except for the title. Ben’s eyes had been misty as he gave him a hug goodnight that evening. Then Ben was also taken from him, and he was left to mourn with Aunt May. 

Enter Tony Stark. Peter has known him since just a few months after he got bit by a spider and fell into the persona of a crime-fighting vigilante. In the short time he’d known him, Tony had already made a big impact on his life. An upgraded suit, access to a high-tech lab with the supplies to make anything he could ever want, and, of course, another sort of father figure. Tony isn’t as confident in his emotions as Ben, or as outwardly paternal as Richard, but their bond is already much stronger than a standard mentor-mentee relationship. 

It’s depressing to even think about, but Peter is running out of ways to address the influential men in his life. Richard got the title, Ben got the first name, which leaves an awkward “Mr. Stark” leftover. It didn’t make sense, Peter knew that, but calling Mr. Stark by his first name just made him think of all the times he called Ben by his. But he’d gone through worse, and he could handle saying Tony, for his sake. 

He shook his head a bit before finally walking up to the front desk. The best way out of the woods is through, after all. He smiled awkwardly at the woman behind the front desk, knowing he must have seemed very out of place. 

“Can I help you?” she said, looking at his nerdy graphic tee and jeans dismissively over her glasses.

“Yes, thank you, I’m just here to see Tony.” Peter tried to give his best I’m a sweet kid, please help me smile. 

“Tony…?”

“Sorry, Tony Stark. I’m supposed to be in the lab with him right now, but I was running late so I had to take a cab, and my phone died so I can’t text him,” he started to trail off, looking for any reaction in the receptionist. 

“Cute,” she said, her bored expression not changing, “but Mr. Stark is very busy right now. You can check the website for when he does meet and greets. If you have any fan mail, you can leave it with me and I’ll send it to his office.”

“No I’m--” Peter cut himself off by running a hand through his hair, “I’m not a fan, I’m serious, can you just tell him Peter’s in the lobby?”

“Listen kid,” and wow did it sound much icier than when Tony said it, “you seem really sweet, but do you really expect me to believe that not only does a middle schooler get to spend one-on-one time with the owner of SI in his personal labs, but he’s on a first name basis with him, too?”

“I’m in high school,” Peter said, but his confidence had already wilted. He wished that he and Tony had actually set up his internship documents instead of continuously putting it off, so he could just scan an ID and walk in. 

“Sure. Do you have any other stories, or do I need to call security?”

Peter murmured to himself as he started to turn away, stopping when he saw the receptionist’s face finally change from bored to shocked. Not a second later, he felt a steady hand clap his shoulder. He instinctively looked behind him, only to see Tony, sporting a pair of sunglasses and a suit. 

“That won’t be necessary, Miss…” Tony checked the nametag of the receptionist before continuing to speak, “Debbie. Peter here just got a little lost. He’s a high school intern, who I still need to issue an ID to.” 

“I’m so sorry Mr. Stark--” Tony cut her off with a raised hand.

“No need to apologize, I’m glad you’re doing your job well. We’ll be going now.”

Tony led Peter to the elevators, leaving the shocked receptionist blinking to herself. Peter waited until the doors slid shut behind them before he spoke.

“Sorry Tony, I left my suit in the lab, and then my phone ran out of battery on the way here--” Tony cut him off by ruffling his hair as he took his sunglasses off.

“What’s with people and apologizing to me today? FRIDAY let me know when you walked in, I just had to finish some boring meeting before coming down.”

“Oh. Okay, cool.” Peter bounced on his heels awkwardly as the elevator slowed to a stop.

“And,” Tony smirked down at Peter and tapped the sunglasses in his hand when he looked up, “I heard and saw everything through FRIDAY. So if you do have any fan mail, please make sure it gets to my office.”

Peter groaned. He would never live that down. 

v. on a rooftop

Peter swung to the top of a nearby building and sat with his back leaning against the roof entrance, letting out a huge sigh as he finally got to relax. He slid his mask off and closed his eyes to work through the withdrawal of adrenaline as he waited for Tony’s inevitable lecture. Thankfully (or not), he didn’t have to wait too long. It was only a matter of minutes before he heard the Iron Man suit touch down next to him. He heard the faceplate lifting before Tony’s voice cut through the silence. 

“Are you hurt, Pete?” Peter was too tired to try to analyze his mood through his voice. He just shook his head from side to side. 

“FRI, do a scan for me.” He couldn’t hear FRIDAY’s response from where he was sitting, but it must have proved he was okay because Tony just huffed and walked to his side.

“Sorry,” Peter muttered.

“Kid, you can’t just apologize and keep doing the same thing over and over. I told you to not meddle with this… goblin guy. If you’re really sorry you wouldn’t keep going against my direct orders.”

Peter just muttered under his breath as he turned to face away from Tony.

“Hey, we’re having a conversation here, look at me,” he ordered.

“Are we?” Peter swung his head back to face Tony, feeling some of his exhaustion fall away at the prospect of an argument, “because it seems pretty one-sided to me.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” Tony pointed his finger accusingly, “you could have been hurt, you could have died today Peter, are you willing to face that? What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up?”

“I would have been fine,” Peter said, stumbling as he stood up. Despite himself, Tony automatically started to move to help steady him before he was waved off, “I can handle myself.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“I wish you did, too.”

Tony broke eye contact first, stepping back and rubbing his face as he sighed. 

“Kid, you remind me too much of myself, which just makes me end up feeling like my dad. You have to listen to me when I tell you to do something. I do, in fact, have a reason behind what I say to you. If you died out there, I’d--”

“You’d what,” Peter interrupted, his temper rising, “you’d feel sad? You’d be guilty? You know what’d I feel if I died? Nothing. At all. So stop trying to guilt-trip me--”

“Guilt-trip? That’s not what’s happening here. Jesus kid, I’m just trying to say that you have people who care about you, and you need to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah well people caring about me won’t stop me from doing the right thing. He would have killed plenty of innocent civilians who also had people that cared about them if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“Listen, I know you think you know what’s best for you and what’s best for the world, but you’re 16, you have no clue what the world can do to a person.”

“I have no clue what the world can do to a person?” Peter was definitely angry now. His filter completely gone, he continued, “My parents died when I was six. I was there to see my uncle die. Aunt May and I were barely living paycheck to paycheck before I met you. My first girlfriend’s dad tried to kill me. Next time try taking the silver spoon out of your mouth before you try to talk to me about knowing what the world can do to a person, Tony.”

The name shot out like a bullet covered in ice. Peter’s shoulders were still shaking with his heavy, angry breaths. He looked up to see Tony’s face passively blank, the same way it looked when Peter asked about his black eye on the way back from Germany. He instantly felt a wave of guilt. 

“Look, I’m sorry--” Tony silently raised a hand, cutting him off. 

“I know you’ve gone through a lot, Peter. I’m willing to ignore that outburst. I also know that you feel like you need to save the whole world, but you can’t. No matter how good of a hero you are, there’s always going to be people you can’t save.”

Peter looked to his feet as Tony let his final statement float in the air for a beat.

“That’s why I put you on the bench sometimes. You have to let the people who have already lost fight the battles where they’re going to lose more. You’re still young, and you have to let us protect you. Me, your aunt, Rhodey, even Happy. We all want the best for you, kid. You’re going to be the best of us. We want to make sure you stay safe for long enough so we have someone to pass the torch to.” A beat passed before Peter nodded and put his mask back on.

“I think I’m just gonna go back home now.”

“I can handle that,” Tony said cooly. Peter walked to the edge of the roof, about to jump off, when he looked back over his shoulder.

“Tony?” he heard the clink of the faceplate moving back into place before he saw Tony turn around. They looked at each other across the roof for a beat, through the safety of their masks, before Peter continued. 

“Thank you.”

vi. in the lab (again) 

It was just an average weekend. That is to say, an average weekend for someone who was bitten by a radioactive spider and then taken under the wing of the local billionaire/superhero. Peter and Tony were tinkering in the lab together on Peter’s Mark III suit. The sun was just starting to dip under the horizon, momentarily painting the whole room pink. 

“I don’t know if I want the instant-kill mode anymore,” Peter said hesitantly. He looked over to see Tony’s hard stare focused on FRIDAY’s hologram of the suit between them. 

“Non-negotiable. You don’t have to use it, but I’ll sleep better knowing you have it.” Peter looked away, suddenly wanting to change the subject. 

“What about the web-shooters? Do you still think I need all 576 combinations?” His attempt to lighten the mood worked and Tony looked over at him with a smirk.

“Have you tried all of them yet?”

“Well,” Peter looked to the side as he tried to remember, “I think I’ve used at least 6 different ones.”

“We can keep them until you’ve tried them all, then.” Peter coughed something that sounds suspiciously like “helicopter mom” and Tony jokingly tapped his fist against his shoulder. 

“You still like the red and blue?” Tony asked, “I tried adding different colors in different marks of the Iron Man suits, it keeps things fresh.” Peter screwed his face up in concentration, or maybe in disgust at remembering the Mark XXVII’s color scheme. 

“I want people to be able to recognize me still. So let’s stick with the same general design.” Tony nodded his head as he typed something into the projected keyboard in front of him and the phrase “similar design” showed up on a growing list of points next to the suit’s hologram. 

“How’s your… stickiness working? Is the suit getting in the way?” Peter sighed in frustration.

“I wish I knew how it worked so we could figure out how to help it, but the suit doesn’t bother it. As long as I don’t think about it too hard I can stick to anything.”

“Next week let’s experiment with the ‘anything’ part,” Tony said as he pushed away from the desk they were sharing. He tapped Peter’s shoulder as he walked behind him, “Be right back, coffee break.” 

Peter nodded, his focus on the suit. His brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what to improve. He remembered that his phone’s touchscreen couldn’t register his fingers in the suit, and they could easily put conductive material in the gloves to solve it. He turned around to get Tony’s attention.

“Hey, Ben--” and he instantly closed his mouth.

Time froze. Tony turned at the noise, and they both stared at each other like two deer in headlights. The amicable silence in the lab turned oppressive. Peter could pinpoint the exact moment when Tony remembered that Ben was the name of his late uncle by how his eyes went from squinting in confusion to wide in shock. They were both somehow blushing and pale as a sheet at the same time, seemingly stuck in that position for hours. Peter tried to think of the best excuse to leave the lab as soon as he could. 

“I forgot something in my bedroom,” Peter said, starting time back up again. He quickly skittered to the lab door.

“Wait,” he felt himself stop at Tony’s words, even though he wanted nothing more than to escape this situation, “as much as we both would much rather ignore what just happened, let’s… talk about this.” At least Peter wasn’t alone in his agony. He slowly turned around to face the awkward conversation head-on. They both stood in silence before Peter finally spoke.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, it’s just--”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Tony said, setting his coffee mug down on the counter, “you don’t need to apologize. I’m telling you right now that I’m not offended or upset with you at all about this. I just think we should talk about why it happened.” Peter sighed and ran a hand nervously through his hair as Tony looked anywhere but his face.

“Well… you know how my parents and uncle are dead?” Peter looked over to see Tony’s eyes snap to his as a mix of confusion, sadness, and sympathy. He chuckled a little at the sight before continuing, “sorry, that was a little harsh. But they are. Dead, that is.”

Tony’s face didn’t improve. Peter had to psych himself up a little bit more and took another breath to compose his thoughts. 

“Wow, I am just saying… words. But, um, yeah. I called my dad ‘Dad’ because he was my dad. Obviously,” Jesus Parker, get it together, “and then Ben was like a dad to me in so many ways, but I called him by his first name because ‘Dad’ was already taken, you know?” Realization was starting to dawn on Tony’s face.

“Kid…” Peter waved him off and continued, looking pointedly at the ground, trying to ignore the shameful pricks in the corners of his eyes.

 “And then you came in, and you do so many things that remind me of them, Mr. Stark,” Peter paused, tears starting to pool up in his eyelids. He forced himself to look at Tony, “so many things. And I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I just latch onto people in my life, and I don’t let them go. Even for a moment. And I’m projecting this idea of all the expectations of people I’ve lost in my past onto you, and that’s not healthy for me because I’ll just be disappointed when it turns out you--” 

Peter’s emotions were coming out of him like air rushing out of a balloon. It’s like calling Tony by his uncle’s name took the cork off a bottle that was now pouring all of its contents down the sink. He couldn’t stop talking now, even if he wanted to. He tried to hide his shaky breaths with a sigh, and Tony looked at him sadly, knowing to let him finish before speaking.

“And I just-- hm. I called Ben by his first name because I couldn’t call him dad. And I called you Ben because I’m just--” he cut himself off as his voice filled with more emotion, and started to pace anxiously around the lab, “--I see you as a father figure, okay? Ben was my father figure for over half my life and calling you by your first name when I already see you in the same light just made my wires get crossed. It’s not the end of the world or anything. It shouldn’t have to be this big secret. I’m an orphan one and a half times over, and you’re-- You’re a superhero, my honest-to-God childhood hero, and you take care of me in so many ways. You make me do my homework, you yell at me when I get myself hurt, we watch movies together, you ruffle my hair and call me kid, am I supposed to just treat you the same as any other adult in my life? 

“I know that’s a lot of pressure for you, and I know that we’re both shitty with talking about our feelings but this has just been festering inside of me, and every time I call you Tony I just think of Ben, and I--” a sob, this time not hidden at all as he sat down on a nearby bench, “--I miss him so much, Mr. Stark. Every day. I’m never going to get over that. And I called him by his first name. So I can’t call you by your first name, and I’m never going to call you Dad, and I’m sorry. I just-- They’re taken. And now calling someone by their last name will just make me think of you and I’m just so screwed up that I can’t--”

Peter sobbed again, dropping his head into his hands. He kept starting meaningless syllables and cutting himself off with heavy, ragged breaths. Tony quickly went over and sat next to him. He cautiously placed a hand on his back, trying to move it in circles like he remembered Rhodey doing to him when he found out his parents passed away. Peter’s breath slowly became more even as he gathered himself. Tony decided this would be a good time to say his piece. 

“Okay, first of all, I want to make sure you are absolutely certain that I am not going anywhere. You’re going to have to put up with me for a very long time.” Peter smiled softly through his tear-stained face at that, which Tony counted as a win as he continued. 

“Kid, I know I don’t say it a lot but I do care about you,” Tony hoped he didn’t notice the waver in his paper-thin voice, “I do love you, Peter. In a very paternal way. Don’t ever be ashamed of seeing me as a father figure, because I suppose I see you as a… son figure.” Tony took a second to rub his eyes and steady his breath. He looked over to see Peter’s face red and puffy, but full of adoration, and warmth, and just pure love. Tony swore he felt ten years get added to his lifespan instantly. He wanted to take a picture and tie it to the end of his suit as he flew above the city, showing off to the whole world what love looks like. 

“But you have to let me know when you’re hurting, Pete,” he continued, making sure Peter was looking at him still, “you have to. Especially if I’m the cause of it. I don’t care if I’m about to accept the Nobel Peace Prize and the last time we talked was an argument where you said you hated me. If you need help, I will be there in the blink of an eye. You just have to tell me. Tell me what is going wrong so I can fix it. It’s what I do. 

“And as for what you call me, Mr. Stark is perfect. I thought I-- well. It used to remind me of my father, but now it’ll just remind me of you.” He finished his small speech with a smile directed at Peter, his eyes wet but sparkling with love as he looked at his kid. 

They sat like that for a few minutes. Just basking in the warmth of their shared love as the pink light of the sunset faded and FRIDAY turned on the overhead lighting. Tony eventually decided to break the silence. 

“All those emotions certainly tired me out,” Tony joked, getting a grin from Peter in return, “You ready for bed, Pete?” 

“I’m ready to lay in my bed on my phone for a few hours before actually falling asleep if that’s what you mean.” Tony rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Okay whippersnapper, I’ll never understand your generation.” 

Tony opened the lab door and led them both out into the hallway. They walked to the bedroom wing without saying anything, the comfortable silence they had in the lab still covering them like a warm blanket. They stopped outside Peter’s bedroom as usual. 

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite, Underoos,” Tony said as he turned to go to his bedroom.

“I love you, Mr. Stark,” Peter blurted out, causing Tony to turn around, “I didn’t say it earlier. But I do.”

Peter was biting his lip nervously as Tony felt his heart beat a little quicker. He smiled warmly at Peter, more genuine than he had smiled in a long time. 

“Oh, come on over here, kid. I think we’re there.” 

Tony opened his arms and Peter practically ran into him. 

“Watch the spider-strength,” He grunted as Peter laughed and tucked his face into Tony’s chest. His nose was just barely brushing against the metal border of his arc reactor. The blue light made Peter’s hair look like a painting. 

Standing there, with Peter’s arms wrapped around him, Tony knew that he would do anything in his power to make sure he stayed safe and happy. He felt a fierce fire deep in his chest that almost dared the world to send something at him, just to let him have something to prove his strength to. He felt like he could take down an entire army. Like he could climb to the top of Mount Everest without even breaking a sweat. 

But instead, he just wrapped his arms around Peter and took a deep breath, committing this feeling to memory. 

“I love you too, kid.”

Tag List: @ironfamjam

[hangjie]

friendzone. [ chandler riggs ]

summary: reader and chandler are best friends. only best friends.

warnings: a bit of swearing

word count: 1,788

author’s note: copied from my wattpad account bc this is one of my favorite imagines and my favorite series that i wrote huhu (this is edited tho). hope you guys enjoy this one! this was inspired by 13 going on 30 and love, rosie  💛

(y/l/n) - your last name

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

i sit in class, tapping the tip of my pencil on the blank page of my notebook. mr. summers rambles on about the first world war. no one in class was listening to his discussion. some were sleeping, drawing, using their phones secretly, or anything besides copying notes.

i start doodling miscellaneous things on to my notebook until a crumpled ball of paper was thrown in front of me. i jump back, surprised and my eyes scan the room for the senderbefore my eyes land on the person sitting on my north-west. my best friend, chandler.

he has a cheeky smile as he looks at me. i chuckle and opene the crumpled ball of paper.

still up for later?

i look over to him and he gves me a questioning look in reply. i grab my pen and wrote down,

still pissed over me beating you in mario kart? of course, i'm up for later!

i quickly glanced back to mr. summers and see that he's writing some things on the board and quickly throw the ball of paper to Chandler, who catches it before mr. summers could turn back to the class.

chandler is my best friend. he and i have been best friends ever since we were toddlers. we do everything together and we can't do something without the other within a mile away.

the crumpled ball of paper appears on top of my desk again, placing it under my desk to read.

hahaha, very funny. oh my god, i'm crying of laughter! *note the sarcasm* no, i'm not lol. meet me in front of the school later?

i giggle under my breath and give him a thumbs up and he returns the thumbs up back.

"ms. (y/l/n), instead of passing notes to mr. riggs, can you discuss the assassination of archduke franz ferdinand?" mr. summers' voice booms through the classroom. i can hear the giggle of my classmates and i feel myself sinking into my seat as everyone's eyes were on me, my cheeks turning red. "a-assassination?" i stutter, standing up from my seat, trying not to look at any of my classmate's eyes because of the fear of humiliation. "yes, ms. (y/l/n). if you were listening, you would've answered this easily because i discussed this clearly," he says, a stern look on his face and his foot tapping on the ground impatiently.

a chair screeches and a voice that i know too well says, "sir, it was my fault."

"mr. riggs, do not take the blame for ms. (y/l/n)."

"but i was the one who started passing her the notes!" chandler says, groaning mentally when mr. summers doesn't believe him.

mr. summers hands out his hand and tells chandler to give him the paper where we wrote our messages on. chandler did so and when mr. summer reads it with a furrowed eyebrow. once he was done reading it, he clears his throat and folds the piece of paper. "well, i was planning on sending only ms. (y/l/n) to detention, but since i read this, mr. riggs, you'll be joining her." chandler holds his head down, but nods and sighs quietly.

relief washes over me as we both sit back down on our seats. some of our classmates continue to laugh at us, but neither of us cared though. i look over to chandler and the weight off my shoulders lifts. i owe him big time.

as if the bell saw the situation, it rang, signaling the end of class. everyone packs their things and one by one, we all exit the classroom.

"alright, be reminded of your homework that is due tomorrow and your quiz next week. i expect everyone to have good scores," mr. summer says. "especially you, ms. (y/l/n) and mr. riggs," he says as chandler and i pass by him on our way out.

"see you later at detention?" chandler asks as we were about to go our separate ways to our different classes. "see you later." i wave him goodbye, which he gladly returns with a small smile and we depart.

***

"well that sucked."

chandler and i exit the school grounds, our backpacks strapped to our backs with our hands in our pockets. "that was the most boring detention that i've been in."

"thank god that i slept through the entire hour."

"good for you." i playfully push chandler to the side as he laughs. "hey! It's not my fault that i was tired!" i roll my eyes and mumble, 'bullshit,' continuing to walk with chandler beside me.

when we arrive at my house, we encounter my mom who greets us with a hearty welcome. "hey mom," i say, kissing her on the cheek. "welcome home, sweetie,"mom says and embraces me in a warm hug. she turns and gives chandler a hug too. "welcome, chandler. it's good to see you again."

"it's good to see you again, mrs. (y/l/n)."

"chandler, how many times do i have to tell you? just call me helena!" chandler laughs and i roll my eyes playfully before joining in the laughter.

"mom, chandler and i have to make our homework. so, we'll be upstairs."

"oh sure, do you want me to make you both a snack?"

"we ate before coming here, but thanks anyways, mom!"

chandler and i go upstairs and enter my room, placing our bags on my bed. chandler takes a seat in front of my tv, eyeing my Xbox, while i take a seat on my bed, taking out my homework. i look over at chandler and scold him. "chan, c'mon. we have to finish our history homework. mr. summers will kill us if we don't pass it tomorrow."

"(y/n), you know i can't focus with my mind clouded," he says, still facing the Xbox. "can we please play one round before finishing our homework?"

i groan, "chan, you know that whenever we do that, we forget to do our homework and it leads up to us procrastinating the day after."

he turns back to me and kneels in front of me, his hand clasped together. "please! just one round. i promise that we'll finish our homework right afterwards." i cross my arms and tap my foot impatiently. i bite my lip, trying to persuade myself that homework comes first.

"please? i'll let you choose the level when we play," chandler says, giving me the puppy dog eyes that i cannot resist.

i groan and raise my hands, "fine, but if we forget to do our homework again, i'm blaming you." chandler jumps to his feet and wraps me in a big, tight bear hug. "thank you!" he rejoices like a little kid, which makes me laugh out loud. we both grab our controllers and turn the xbox on.

"prepare to lose, riggs."

***

after what seemed like hours, we finally finish our 'one round' of mario kart. we got lost in our game of mario kart that our homework was long forgotten.

we were laying side by side on the floor, talking about random things that come up in our mind. we laugh at our memory of the time chandler and i purposely wore clothes that camouflaged to the wall, so that our parents couldn't recognize us when we steal food from the kitchen.

"oh my god, we were little assholes back then," i say and chandler laughs. "it was totally your idea!"

"because you bribed me to do it!"

we burst out laughing again, us clutching our stomachs which ached from laughing too hard.

once the laughter dies down, we face each other with smiles on our faces.

"hey, thanks for saving me from summers earlier," i say, out of the blue.

"it's no problem. i couldn't let you go to detention all by yourself when i was the one who started the trouble."

the question that always pops in my head whenever chandler saves me from trouble clouds my mind. i want to ask him, but the voice inside me says that it's obvious. as always, i don't listen to it.

"why are you always doing this?" i ask and chandler's face scrunches into a confused look. "always doing what?"

"always saving me from trouble. you always sacrifice yourself for me, even if i started the trouble. you always say that it was your idea or that you started it. why?"

chandler looks hesitant to answer. he opens his mouth, but quickly shuts it without saying a word. he sighs and looks at me in the eyes. "we're best friends, aren't we? i couldn't bare to see my best friend alone or all by herself, so i try my best to make sure that we'll always be equal and together." i smile at him and for a moment, i felt my heart beating fast.

"we'll always be best friends, right?" i mentally scold myself that i sounded like a child, but i can't imagine myself not being friends with chandler. he grew up with me and experienced life with me. he is like my other half.

"of course we will. what am i without you beside me?" he says poking my cheek and laughs. i swat his hand away and without thinking, i link my fingers with his. i blush a deep color of red and was about to untangle my fingers, but he squeezes my hand, making me look at him.

he was looking at me and i look at him back. underneath the glow of my bedroom lightbulb, i notice the features of chandler's face and i notice how handsome he is. the way his brown hair was spread on the floor, how the color of his eyes were like the ocean after a storm, how his fair complexion matches well with his features.

we slowly lean closer to each other, our eyes lock on each other. our faces were millimeters apart when we hear a knock on the door, making us pull away and blush.

"(y/n), i made some snacks if you both were hungry," mom's voice passes through the door. "y-yeah, we'll be down in a minute."

we look at each other and we blush a deeper color if it was possible. "you hungry?" i ask, trying to break the awkward tension between us. "yeah, i could go for some food right now." chandler helps me up and before exiting the room, i say, "after this, we're finishing our homework."

MASTERLIST

[bunvoyagesarah]

Bosnia & Herzegovina

(Herz-ee-go-vina because I have trouble saying it everytime.)

Mostar, then Sarajevo

Wednesday

I arrive after a very long nine hour bus drive from Kotor to Mostar. I had researched some hostels and had some recommendations but hadn't reserved anything, thinking it would not be a problem. So I get off the bus and go to the hostel I had in my mind only to find they didn't have any beds. I asked if I could use their wifi or if they had a recommendation and she suggested two around the corner. I leave. This old man on a stoop who had seen me go in the hostel, tells me to come to this other hostel. He rings the doorbell chats with the owner for ten seconds and leaves me there to check in the last bed of the night. The owner was very friendly, offering me juice and giving me a very long rundown of the town. Thirty minutes later, a girl comes into the room and says, "We're all going to dinner, wanna come?" Five minutes later, I have some untied sneakers on my feet and I'm standing outside the hostel with six strangers saying thank you for saving me from who knows how much more explanation of the the tiny town of Mostar. We went to this restaurant for dinner, walking through the town on the way. Thais, the girl that invited me to dinner, was informed they no longer had veggie burgers after we all received our food, so we wait and wait for her new dish to come out. After asking a couple more times for her food, it finally comes. Then we ask a few times for the bill, when that finally comes we ask for a discount or shots of rackija, the local drink. The waiter quickly brought over shots for the whole table and we all left happily for some ice cream before walking back to the hostel.

Thursday

The hostel, Mirror Hostel, has many rules which I had learned over dinner the night before from my friends.

1. No shoes inside

2. Don't open the door when people ring the bell

3. No hitchhiking

4. Don't be late for the free breakfast

5. If you sleep upstairs, you eat upstairs, away from everyone else in the group

All the "rules" were found out by trial-and-error and left everyone getting yelled at by the owner at some point. Breakfast in the morning was dramatic as a guest upstairs tried to eat with everyone at the communal table. After breakfast, a girl and I made plans to walk around the town and then go to the pool. As I was giving my laundry to the hostel worker, we gained a French girl who spoke about ten words of English. We set out for the town, stopping by stalls to shop and hoping to catch someone jumping off the famous Stari Nav bridge. Frenchie kept disappearing and then finally told us she was going to go eat, despite her turning down the free breakfast thirty minutes prior for unknown reasons. After walking all through the town, Marleen and I left for the pool where we hung out for most of the 100 degree day. We returned to the hostel, hanging out with other guests and slowly adding to our group before all going to dinner at the same restaurant, this time having a coupon for free shots and dessert! We return to the hostel to find Frenchie very drunk. Although she was in a different room, she wanted her own air conditioning unit off, even though it was still quite hot out. She came into our room three or four times to steal our remote and try and turn off her air conditioning unit. After an hour or so, the owner was yelling at her to go to bed or she would call the police. Eventually she must of gone to bed. But she was very dramatic.

Friday

I woke up at 6am to catch a train to Sarajevo. As I'm getting ready, Frenchie knocks on the bathroom door, then as she leaves asks if I'm cooking in the kitchen right there. She was an odd one. The train to Sarajevo was beautiful, just as everyone had said. I arrive very early and am able to get into my hostel, which has a giant, friendly yellow lab that greets you everytime you come in. I drop my things and go on the free walking tour learning all about the Serbian siege of Sarajevo from 1992-1995, the ruling by the Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian empires, and the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife. I met some nice Brits on the tour and an Argentinean guy and we all got lunch together. The guy and I went to the Genocide Museum and then split up. I met up with the Brits in the evening for a couple drinks, but then threw up in a bathroom before enjoying one drink. I think the lunch did not agree with my stomach. I went home and ended up throwing up three times in a couple hours. My hostel mate from Kyrgyzstan tried to give me a hot dog. I refused.

Saturday

I woke up in the morning not feeling great but determined to make it to the abandoned bobsled track from the 1984 Olympic Games, even if it meant taking all day to get there. I made it up the gondola with two guys who happened to have just graduated from University of Chicago. We explored the bobsled track and ran into the British girls I knew. We walked all the way down and spent a couple hours exploring the town. The guys went to another museum and I went back to rest, still not feeling great. By evening, I went out to find a print store to print my bus ticket for the morning and spend the rest of my Bosnian Marks. I had two marks left, and with a little bit of an appetite left bought some corn on the cob from a street vendor for exactly two marks. It was delicious. In the morning, I got on a 6am bus to Belgrade.

[neverisalongtime-ja-blog]

Chapter 10: Celebrity status

Hello fanfic lovers and Klinghoffer lovers and Joshan lover!

I hope you all are having a lovely week! To top that here is chapter 10 of this story. I reeeeally hope you like it and don’t forget the feedback!

There is a reference in this chapter of a interview Josh had at Lollapalooza, so if you find it, tell me!

Remember to follow Anastasia on Instagram because is cute!

Anastasia_Truman

Much love to you all! ❤️️

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

Read chapter 9

-          You are going to drive from New York to Chicago? – Mandy asked her friend, Anastasia, through the phone – You realize that it’s an almost thirteen hour trip? Right?

-          I know. Josh and I will take turns at the wheel – Anastasia answered.

-          That is a totally unnecessary thing to do – Mandy replied.

-          It’s going to be fun. A fun road trip.

-          A day before a concert! A huge concert! You are going to be tired!

-          I won’t. I promise!

-          Anyway, I heard that Jacob is going to Lolla too! He is traveling from London with Mark and Steph!

-          I haven’t seen Stephanie in years – Stephanie was Mark’s (Anastasia’s brother) long time girlfriend.

-          Yes! It’s going to be like a family thing. I can imagine that Barbara is going to be there as well.

-          She hasn’t spent a single night here in the room. I haven’t even seen her actually.

-          Well, divorces can be really hard, you know. Unless Anthony Kiedis is your best friend, that way you forget about your ex real quick.

-          You are insane! I gotta go. I’ll call you when I arrive to Chicago; I think you’ll be there already by that time.

-          Have a safe trip! – Mandy said before hung the phone.

Josh had the idea of driving to Chicago and Anastasia though it was crazy at first but then though it was going to be a good thing to create some kind of bond with him.

-          Did you bring music? – Josh asked before starting the engine of the rented black Hyundai SUV.

-          I grabbed everything that was in my laptop. That includes a bunch of 90’s pop, a lot of British indie rock, many of the crap I had produced for other people and every single song by Fleetwood Mac because Stevie Nicks is the entity for which I wake up every morning.

-          Really? – He asked.

-          I’ll do anything for Stevie.

-          Well I’ll take Fleetwood and the British stuff.

They alternate between Anastasia’s and Josh’s flash disks, which had a lot of better tunes, so they drove with the most eclectic music choices anyone can possibly imagine.

-          I have a doubt – Josh asked while they were listening to a British band called Franz Ferdinand, which was Anastasia’s choice – You are British, right?

-          Yes, I was born in Chelsea, I think I told you.

-          So where is your British accent?

-          Well it disappeared. I’ve been living in LA for almost fifteen years, Josh. I am the most non-British British you can find.

-          That sucks because I am a sucker for British everything.

-          Well in that case I can be very British sometimes – They both laugh – I still visit London once a year, mostly at Christmas time. I do it for my father.

-          Just for your father?

-          The rest of the family members aren’t fans of me. It’s complicated. Everybody hates the outside-marriage children – Anastasia has another two sisters for her father’s side. Their mom was married to Nick when he cheated her with Anastasia’s mother.

-          I’ve read a little bit about that.

-          Did you Google me? – Anastasia said stoic.

-          Well not like that. But there is a lot of information about you out there.

-          Yes, mostly fake.

After singing every possible line to Fleetwood Mac’s songs and a few quick stops for gas and food the couple arrived to Chicago. The trip really helped both of them. They connected in a new level; they felt more comfortable in each other’s company. They finally drove to an exclusive hotel in the city where everyone was going to stay, Mandy and the boys were already there but Anastasia was too tired to do anything so she and Josh agreed on not telling anyone they had arrived and sneak to Josh’s room to get some sleep.

This time in bed was so different. They just slept, but sleeping together brought a whole different kind of intimacy than that of sex. The way Josh hugged her and buried his face on her neck gave Anastasia a solid base to assure her decision about this relationship, even if it wasn’t an official thing yet.

When Anastasia woke up it was already dark outside. She let Josh sleep and quietly left the room. She looked at her phone and saw around 12 messages and six missing calls from Mandy, the last text indicated that she was at the hotel bar with Barbara and Mark.

Once Anastasia walked through the bar door she saw her family and friends at a table to her left. Mandy was there, obviously next to Barbara and Mark who was hugging her girlfriend, Stephanie, with an arm and next to Mandy there was another man, when she got close she could see his face, it was Jacob her childhood friend from London, a short and really pale guy with piercing blue eyes and black short hair. The two had history together. Besides being the best of friends to this day, Jacob was Anastasia’s first everything, they tried to have a long distance relationship (Her in California, him in London) when they were around seventeen, but they were very young and dumb and with time they realized they loved each other more as friends than anything else. Even after that, their friendship/relationship was highly publicized in the British tabloids, he was a child actor at that time, and she was the trouble daughter of a very famous rocker. “A match made in hell” as one of the tabloids recalled.

Jacob was the first to get up and greet her.

-          You haven’t changed a thing – He said giving her a tight hug.

-          I won’t. I will never change – she answered.

-          Wait until you are fifty, you’ll need Botox if you want to keep that baby face of yours – Barbara opined.

-          Are you here for the festival? – Anastasia wanted to know.

-          Yes! And I’m gonna start to film a movie in New York in a couple of weeks so I decided to come early and that way I could see you! I missed you!

-          I missed you too! But we Skype like once a month, Jacob.

-          It’s not the same – Mandy said suddenly – Where is Josh by the way?

-          Sleeping.

-          How do you know that Josh is sleeping right now? – Mark asked surprised.

-          Oh… Don’t you know? – Mandy said – It happened – Mark didn’t have to say a thing. He understood what Mandy was saying. He started to laugh.

-          Steph! It’s so amazing to see you again – Anastasia said changing the subject of the conversation.

Stephanie, tall with light brown hair and pale skin was Mark’s long-time girlfriend. They had been together for around 10 years; she was undoubtedly a part of the family. More than that, she was a great and close friend for Anastasia. Unlike with Jacob, they Skype at least twice a month.

-          So you have a boy? – Steph asked with a heavy accent while Anastasia took a seat between her and Jacob.

-          More like a grow ass man – Mandy said from the other side of the table.

-          We are just getting to know each other – Anastasia said to Steph.

-          You’ve known him for more than five years – Mandy said.

-          Yes but not this way – Anastasia said to Mandy – He is one of Mark’s friends – she said looking to Stephanie again.

-          Oh! Do I know him?

-          I don’t know – Mark said – I think we saw him once in London. You will remember him when you see him, the guy is quite unforgettable.

-          And that is the Josh effect: nobody can forget him – Mandy said laughing.

-          You didn’t tell me about this – Jacob said suddenly.

-          It’s pretty recent – Anastasia answered – I still don’t know if I want a real and long term relationship with him. So when I’m ready to tell you I will.

The night went by catching up with Stephanie and Jacob. Anastasia was happy to see him. Jacob had always been a great support to her. When all the disaster with Valentine happened he flew all the way from London to Los Angeles just to be with her. They didn’t feel a romantic nor sexual connection between them, but a strong friendship was definitely there. Since the tabloid mess when they were teenagers happened, all their encounters somehow ended on the news and social media, a thing Anastasia hated and which had been a good reason for not seeing him so often.

Anastasia though that Josh must have slept the entire night through the next day because she didn’t have any information about him, even at the festival.

The band got early to the show location for all the interviews they had to do. Mandy and Anastasia always did most of the press schedule, but this time they all had to do the same job. Around three in the afternoon Anastasia met with Barbara to go to the Chili Peppers trailer. They opened the door not knowing that Josh was inside in the middle of an interview, they excused themselves and ran to the next door. She could see Josh smiling at her because of the situation.

Only Flea and Anthony were in the trailer.

-          A journalist just said that Mandy and I are the female version of you two and I can’t feel more satisfied with myself right now – Anastasia said to Anthony and Flea.

-          It’s not far from the truth – Flea said – I mean we all kind of raised you so it’s logical that you have some of us in your attitude and in the way you found Mandy, who complements you so well.

-          Man, don’t I love you enough – Anastasia said – By the way, I think we just ruined Josh’s interview.

-          Is it true that you two came driving from New York? – Anthony wanted to know.

-          Yes. It was more fun than what I thought it would be.

-          Is something going on there? – Anthony asked again and Anastasia just shrugged.

-          Do you think something should happen? -Anastasia asked.

-          Yes, damn it! -Anthony said and everyone laughed.

After a while they went outside again and spotted Josh talking to her brother, Nick, Eric and Jacob.

-          So you two already met? – She asked approaching them and pointing to Josh and Jacob.

-          Yes! Being the big Red Hot Chili Pepper fan that I am, I’m stoic – Jacob said.

-          I still can’t believe you are here – Anastasia said hugging Jacob.

-          I haven’t seen you on a stage in years, it was about damn time! – He smiled to her.

-          We have to be ready in 30 minutes – Eric said.

-          WHAT? – Anastasia screamed – I’m far from ready! I need to change.

-          You better run – Nick said.

She did. She found Mandy and Steph on her trailer who helped her get ready. She did her hair and makeup and they helped her put on her outfit, a special one: black high-waisted fringed shorts, a black t-shirt with the word “Witch” in silver letters and velvet over-the-knee boots in blue. She and Mandy wore their quartz crowns, which were “their thing” and were ready to go.

Stephanie was dancing next to Barbara at a side of the stage while Jacob, Mark, Josh and Chad were enjoying the show behind them. The energy was at its highest that night and Dead Curse gave the best performance in months and so did the Chilies. Josh seemed happier on stage.

An after party awaited for them and Anastasia felt kind of bad at the end of the night because she set all her attention on Jacob, they even danced some songs like they used to in London when they were teenagers, while Josh just chatted with friends. But they both agreed on spending the night together so after a shower and a change into more cozy clothes she went to his room.

-          You looked great on that stage tonight – He said to her while the two were sitting on a couch.

-          Really? It was an amazing show, we sounded good as hell! – Anastasia said with enthusiasm – The Peppers did a great show too but that is an obvious statement.

-          That guy, Jacob, seems fun – Josh said suddenly.

-          I’ve known Jacob since we were eight years old. We were neighbors back in London. We always played together and our moms were friends, he has been a great support during my whole life.

-          That’s good I guess.

-          Since you’ve been Googling my name you must have read that we were in a relationship once, but that is in the past and we were never actually in a real relationship. At sixteen or seventeen you don’t even know what a relationship is.

-          I haven’t Googled you – he said laughing.

-          Why are you laughing then?

-          Because it’s funny – Anastasia jumped on him and started to tickle him. Both were laughing badly when Anastasia’s phone rang.  

It was a message from Mandy that read “They never get enough” and a link was attached. Anastasia knew what it was all about before she even opened it, but she did it anyways. Another pink website appeared with a report of her and Jacob all over each other in Chicago. She got frustrated and angry.

-          When are they gonna stop? – She asked.

-          What happened? – She handed the phone to Josh. He looked at it with the most stoic face expression – This sucks - His face now showed sadness – It’s the same thing that happened in the Netherlands for Pinkpop – He left the phone in a near table and got up the couch – I don’t feel comfortable with this Anastasia.

-          You think I do? I’ve been working my ass off to have the lowest profile I can my entire life.

-          Well you haven’t worked hard enough – Anastasia looked into Josh’s eyes not believing the words that had come out of his mouth.

-          Excuse me? – He didn’t repeat them – Well I’m sorry if my last name brought this entire load which I cannot get rid of. It’s not like I’m a fucking Kardashian either, Josh.

-          I just don’t like the exposure.

-          I don’t like it either! – Anastasia was raising her voice – My last name has brought me great things and fame is a price I didn’t ask to pay. I stopped doing all the stupid shit I did when I was a teenager, I stopped talking to a bunch of people because I didn’t like a fucking camera lens in my face anytime I went out, I even stopped going to crowded places in LA, I don’t go to many red carpets anymore.

-          I don’t feel comfortable with that aspect of your life. I had a taste of it in the Netherlands and I have the feeling it’s never gonna go away – After Josh’s words, Anastasia didn’t know how to act.

-          I’m just gonna leave. I don’t really know how to handle this right now.

He didn’t stop her. She just left to her room with anger all over her system. Luckily for her she found Steph on the way to her room.

-          Darling, what happened? – Anastasia saw her and started to cry. She was a tough cookie and not many things made her cry, but this situation got into her nerves. She couldn’t control what others wrote about her and she learned that after lots and lots of years in therapy. The fact that Josh wasn’t supportive and just decided to get rid of her because of such a dumb thing really broke her.

Stephanie helped her to get to her room and Mandy was inside.

-          Oh God, An! – Mandy said and ran to hold her friend.

Once she was sitting in a bed, Anastasia told them about all the things that were said in Josh’s room.

-          The thing is that I know how Josh is. I told Mark a long time ago: I have a lot of “Hollywood baggage” – Anastasia said wiping the tears from her face.

-          But that does not justify Josh's behavior! – Steph said – When I started to date your brother, people said disgusting things too, especially fans all over the word, but that didn’t keep me from being with him because I loved him and I knew he loved me and that was all that mattered. He knows who you are and where you come from, he can’t expect things like this aren’t going to happen.

-          Do you remember all the things that people said about you and Jacob? – Mandy said - And all the dead threats you received because people thought you were a couple? That was bullshit and you really learned from that. I know how much you’ve tried to keep a low profile, but the truth is, that is never going to happen, because of your last name and because of our band.

-          Josh doesn’t understand that – Anastasia said – I hate this “Celebrity status”.

-          All that should matter to him is that you are real, and that you are not in this business just because you want fame, because you know how shitty fame is. You are here because you love what you do and it’s important to you to express yourself through music, and if he can’t see all the light you radiate and the great aspects about you then he can go fuck himself – Stephanie said.

-          The most stupid thing is that you are both angry for something you have in common: obsession with privacy – Mandy said and Anastasia felt gratitude for having people like them in her life.

Read chapter 11

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Hello, You Are The Monkey Detective. Can You Figure Out Which Monkey Stole Your Wine?

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Your job is that you have to find the monkeys that do crimes and put them in jail or send them Donkey Heaven, which is hell for monkeys.

I already know about all that.

A fun bit of trivia about you is that your brain is in your foot. You had doctors put your brain in your foot so that you could get shot in the head without dying.

I already know that.

You have arrested many monkeys for doing crimes. This a villainous monkey named Mr. Slippers. Mr. Slippers committed insider trading on Wall Street, so you tracked him down and threw him in jail for 10,000 monkey years, which is equivalent to 86 billion human years.

I know the whole thing about that already.

This disgusting old pervert is named Mittens Supreme. In 1994 she was convicted of selling a 250-pound cube of cocaine to a human toddler. You used your skills as the Monkey Detective to track her down and put her behind bars for three ape hours, which is equivalent to 90,000 human years.

I knew about this story before I was even born.

And this psychotic geezer is named Linus Pucker. Linus Pucker committed two crimes. The first crime was illegally impersonating a cowboy. The second crime was assassinating the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which started World War I. You tracked him down by following the clues, and you put him in prison for 45 ape seconds, which is equivalent to three human minutes.

I know about that too.

These are just a few of the monkey crimes you have solved during your career as the Monkey Detective. Now it is time to celebrate your success with a big glass of wine.

Go get yourself a big glass of wine.

You keep your wine in the trunk of this car. The car belongs to your neighbor, but he said you could store all your wine in there. He lets you do that because he is in love with you and he thinks that if he lets you hide your wine in his car, you will marry him.

Open up your trunk and drink a very big glass of a lot of wine.

Forget everything and go marry your neighbor.

Here is your neighbor’s house. Your neighbor has been in love with you ever since he saw you naked on the cover of Endlessly Naked Detective Magazine. He is sitting on the floor of his house right now, waiting to marry you.

Knock on your neighbor’s door and marry him.

You knock on the door of the house, and your neighbor comes out to greet you. Your neighbor’s name is Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always, and he is a Knight of the Realm. You hear him being in love with you deep inside of his suit of armor. “Hello. Please have sex with my big honkin’ crotch for 1,000 days and nights,” says Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always.

I will NEVER have sex with your big honkin’ crotch. I have come to marry you.

I just came by to say that I am not in love with you.

“Would you be in love with me if I gave you an extremely old computer?”

Yes.

No.

“Here is my old computer. It is from 1997.”

I am in love with you.

You decide to get married to your neighbor. You go down to the lake to see the Love Wizard. “What do you want?” the Love Wizard screams at you.

Can I be married to my neighbor?

“Sure, whatever!” the Love Wizard shrieks. “You are married now. Thank you for coming to my lake, and remember my motto: ‘There’s no maximum to the number of people you can be married to!’”

Okay, you’re married to your neighbor now. Better go drink your wine now.

Go drink a big gulp of wine from a gigantic big cup of wine.

You and your neighbor are married now, but neither of you care about it at all. You return to your neighbor’s car.

Open up the trunk and start drinking the wine.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh shit and hell…

Oh shit and hell…

WHERE IS YOUR WINE?

THE WINE IS GONE!

Holy fuck of piss! Some criminal has stolen your wine! Where is your incredible wine? Your hot nectar of juice? YOUR WINE??? YOUR BOILING-HOT SYRUP OF SAP??? WHERE HAS GONE TO YOUR WINE OF?????

WHERE’S THE WINE, ASSHOLE???? IT GOT STOLEN!!!!! THE WINE DID!!!! SOME TYPE OF CRIME-THIEF STOLE UP ALL THE WINE!!!!!!

SHRIEK WITH RAGE.

SCREAM WITH ANGUISH.

BELLOW WITH A COMBINATION OF PANIC AND LUST.

No! This is no time to be loud with a tantrum! You are a detective, and this is a crime scene. You need to search the crime scene for clues.

Search the crime scene for clues.

Check the trunk of the car one more time…

You look around the crime scene, and you see something familiar…something…yellow…

Investigate the yellow thing.

Just as you thought! Bananas! This is the famous yellow vegetable that gets eaten by monkeys! This means that the criminal who stole your wine was a monkey! And there’s only one person with the skills and expertise necessary to figure out which monkey stole your wine…

Who?

WHAT THE HELL OF SHIT??? WHERE HAS BECOME OF GONE AS OF YOUR WINE IS??? HOW COULD IT BE THIS FUCKED??? THE WINE IS JUNKED UP AND STOLEN AND MISSING, AND CRIMINALS THIEVED IT INTO OBLIVION!!! FUCK AND HECK!!! HOW DID IT BECOME GONE IN THIS MANNER???

SHRIEK WITH RAGE.

SCREAM WITH ANGUISH.

BELLOW WITH A COMBINATION OF PANIC AND LUST.

“Ah, shit. Then I guess I’m doomed to pine after you from a distance until the end of the world. It’s every knight’s worst nightmare,” says Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always. “In the meantime, please feel free to continue storing your wine in the trunk of my car.” He closes the door, and you can hear him crying while he blasts the album Salad-Flavored Frown, Ranch-Flavored Tears by the legendary band The Gloomy Scoundrels. This is the album that Knights of the Realm are required by law to play when they have had their hearts broken.

Go back to Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always’ car and drink your wine from his trunk.

You! The Monkey Detective! You must go find out which monkey stole your wine and either put them into jail or send them to Donkey Heaven, which is hell for monkeys!

It’s time to start investigating The Case of the Monkey Who Stole Your Wine!

Begin figuring out which monkey stole your wine.

It’s time to begin your investigation. To catch the nasty monkey that did thief stuff to your gorgeous wine, you’re going to need to go to the type of forest where monkeys live: the jungle.

Go to the jungle.

Good choice. Tons of monkeys live in the jungle. It’s one of the places where they like to hang out and be gross with each other. You are about to enter the jungle when all of a sudden you hear someone yell, “Wait! Don’t go in there, Monkey Detective!”

Turn around to see who it is.

You turn around and find yourself face to face with Natural Simon, the world’s most famous nature documentarian. Natural Simon has a show on the BBC called Skittles Safari, where Natural Simon finds the most exotic and beautiful animals in the world and feeds them Skittles to teach the world about which animals die when you feed them Skittles.

“Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Natural Simon. “I just want you to know that you better not interfere with too much nature in this big jungle right here that we’re both looking at. I’m going to be filming an episode of Skittles Safari, and I need you to stay away from all the animals so that I can feed Skittles to them in a natural way.”

Be quiet, Natural Simon. I need to go into the jungle so that I can figure out which monkey stole my wine.

Hey, Natural Simon, what happens to a buffalo when you feed it a big bucket of Skittles?

“You would know the answer to this if you watched my hourlong Christmas special, “Skittles Feasts On The American Plains.” I fed a buffalo a big bucket of Skittles, and the buffalo burped and then died. From this scientific experiment, we can conclude that when a buffalo eats a bucket of Skittles, it burps and then it dies. That is the magic of nature.”

Wow, that is truly beautiful to know. Thank you, Natural Simon.

I already knew that.

“Okay, whatever. I don’t care,” says Natural Simon. “Just make sure you don’t disturb nature too much.”

Nod and enter the jungle.

Give Natural Simon a kiss on the cheek.

“Please do not kiss me,” says Natural Simon. “When I became the host of my nature show, I had to swear a vow of celibacy to the BBC.”

Apologize to Natural Simon and enter the jungle.

Why did you have to swear a vow of celibacy to the BBC?

“In 1985, the legendary David Attenborough was shooting an episode of his popular nature documentary, Animals! Animals! Animals!” Natural Simon explains to you, “and he went up to a zebra and whispered, ‘My wife and I have sex all the time. Even on weekends.’ Listening to David Attenborough talk about his sex life made the zebra very upset, and so the zebra had no choice but to scream and run off a cliff and die. In order to avoid a similar disaster, the BBC has made everyone who appears on their channel take a vow of celibacy so that they can never make zebras commit frantic suicide by telling them how much sex they have.”

Thank Natural Simon for this wonderful story and enter the jungle.

You leave Natural Simon behind for the time being and enter the jungle.

The first person you meet in the jungle is Dennis the Lion. “Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion.

Hello, Dennis. How are you doing?

WHERE IS MY GODDAMN WINE, YOU FUCK-PERSON? WHERE IS THE SWEET SAP OF STICKINESS? WHERE IS THE HOT JUICE OF DISGUSTING GROSS NECTAR OF SYRUP OF DELICIOUS WINE? THE HOT PURPLE WINE!!! WHERE’S THE WINE???

You thank Natural Simon for the wonderful story about David Attenborough driving a zebra insane with his erotic tales, and you enter the jungle.

The first person you meet in the jungle is Dennis the Lion. “Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion.

Hello, Dennis. How are you doing?

WHERE IS MY GODDAMN WINE, YOU FUCK-PERSON? WHERE IS THE SWEET SAP OF STICKINESS? WHERE IS THE HOT JUICE OF DISGUSTING GROSS NECTAR OF SYRUP OF DELICIOUS WINE? THE HOT PURPLE WINE!!! WHERE’S THE WINE???

“I’m doing fine, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion. “I just spent all afternoon watching a wasp lay its eggs in a caterpillar’s brain, and now I am waiting to die.”

That sounds like a wonderful way to spend your day.

I’m jealous of your perfect life.

It just doesn’t get any better than that, Dennis.

“Yes, it’s great. I cannot wait for my nest of eggs to hatch. How are you doing, Monkey Detective?”

Not so good. A monkey stole my wine.

“That’s terrible. Your mind must be insane with #WinePanic,” says Dennis the Lion.

Have you seen any suspicious monkeys that look like they might be hiding some stolen wine?

“As a matter of fact, I have seen a suspicious thing involving a monkey,” says Dennis the Lion. “One thing I saw is a famous monkey named Pervert-Pervert Gumbo walking into the jungle carrying a plastic bag of some kind. I couldn’t tell what was in the bag, but it smelled like it was stolen.”

Where can I find this Pervert-Pervert Gumbo?

“It just so happens that I know where Pervert-Pervert Gumbo’s secret #ApeLocation is, but why should I just tell you? Shouldn’t you do something nice for me before I tell you?”

No, you should just tell me where he lives.

“Oh, okay. Well, he lives in the River of Nasty Ideas. It’s just to the north of here.”

Travel north to the River of Nasty Ideas.

You travel north through the jungle’s nosy branches and thick old vines, and soon you arrive at the River of Nasty Ideas. This is where the monkey Pervert-Pervert Gumbo lives. He’s standing there with the grossest horrible smile plastered across his head. It is the grin of someone who has become happy because of something disgusting. He is terrible to know about.

“Monkeys and bugs can be…more than just friends,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. He stares at you with his disgusting grin and splashes some river water around with his hands.

Okay, that’s great. I didn’t want to know about that.

Listen, you horrendous ape, what do you know about my stolen wine?

“Wine is the romance syrup,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. “I have seen it…in my night’s dreams.”

Yes, but did you steal my wine?

“That depends…what does your wine look like?”

My wine is bottle-shaped.

My wine is yellow.

“Hm…I don’t remember seeing anything bottle-shaped recently,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo.

Are you sure you can’t remember anything?

Dennis the Lion says he saw you carrying a suspicious plastic bag. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that?

“I do remember something! One time my brother got sick, so I ate his legs and so I also got sick. I was barfing everywhere, and I got to stay home from driving school.”

I meant, do you remember anything about seeing my stolen wine.

“Oh…no, I haven’t seen anything involving your wine recently,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo.

Dennis the Lion says he saw you carrying a suspicious plastic bag. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that?

“Oh, this thing?” asks Pervert-Pervert Gumbo as he waves a plastic bag around over his head. “This is my Garbage Pouch! I found it in the trash, and now I wave it around over my head a lot to let people know that I’m the kind of monkey that loves garbage.”

Wait a minute, if all you do with your Garbage Pouch is wave it around, then why were you carrying something inside of it?

Your story checks out, Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. I’ll let you go back to being horrible in the river…but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.

“Oh, well, Dennis the Lion must have seen me carrying around my fish,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. You see, every month I fill up my Garbage Pouch with a bunch of fish, and I carry the pouch around with me until the fish go rotten. When the fish go rotten, I celebrate by going to the bathroom. Then I dump the rotten fish off at a local elementary school so that the children can learn about how death makes everything smell bad. Then I fill up my Garbage Pouch with more fish, and the beautiful cycle begins anew.”

That’s a truly beautiful and moving story about the cycle of nature.

I have never heard of anything more horrible.

“Thank you.”

You are one of the worst monkeys I’ve ever met in my time as a Monkey Detective. Now I’m going to leave.

“I am an innocent angel,” says the disgusting monkey. “I am like Cupid, but even more naked and even more in a river. But I know about a nasty-bad monkey who maybe stole your wine!”

Who is it?

“Her name is Princess Neil Armstrong, and she is one of the most nasty-bad monkeys in the whole of the monkey world. I bet she’s the one who stole your wine! She lives in the jungle castle called Goose Manor.”

Go find the castle Goose Manor and interrogate Princess Neil Armstrong.

You leave behind the River of Nasty Ideas and venture into the jungle to find Goose Manor. As you’re leaving, you hear Pervert-Pervert Gumbo shout behind you, “Wait, Monkey Detective! I have one more very important thing to tell you!”

Ignore Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and keep walking.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

You ignore Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and continue walking deeper into the jungle. “Please! Monkey Detective! Please listen to me! This is extremely important!”

Keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert and continue walking away.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

You keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and keep walking deeper into the jungle. “Monkey Detective, the information I have is vital for you!” cries Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. “You’ll die without it! Please just listen to what I have to say!”

Keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert and continue walking away.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

“Please! Monkey Detective! You need to listen to me! You need to turn around and hear what I have to say! The fate of your life hangs in the balance! The fate of the world hangs in the balance! Please listen to me!”

Disappear into the jungle and leave Pervert-Pervert Gumbo behind.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

“Sometimes, monkeys and bugs start out as good friends, but then the monkeys and bugs start to feel things…beautiful romantic things…and the friendship between the monkeys and the bugs becomes…something more…and the monkeys and the bugs kiss each other and…they have sex with each other (a.k.a. fuck each other). The monkeys have sex with the cockroaches and the beetles and the mosquitos and the many other types of bugs that they used to be friends with, and sometimes a monkey’s driving teacher sees him having se

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Hello, You Are The Monkey Detective. Can You Figure Out Which Monkey Stole Your Wine?

This feature requires JavaScript to function.

Your job is that you have to find the monkeys that do crimes and put them in jail or send them Donkey Heaven, which is hell for monkeys.

I already know about all that.

A fun bit of trivia about you is that your brain is in your foot. You had doctors put your brain in your foot so that you could get shot in the head without dying.

I already know that.

You have arrested many monkeys for doing crimes. This a villainous monkey named Mr. Slippers. Mr. Slippers committed insider trading on Wall Street, so you tracked him down and threw him in jail for 10,000 monkey years, which is equivalent to 86 billion human years.

I know the whole thing about that already.

This disgusting old pervert is named Mittens Supreme. In 1994 she was convicted of selling a 250-pound cube of cocaine to a human toddler. You used your skills as the Monkey Detective to track her down and put her behind bars for three ape hours, which is equivalent to 90,000 human years.

I knew about this story before I was even born.

And this psychotic geezer is named Linus Pucker. Linus Pucker committed two crimes. The first crime was illegally impersonating a cowboy. The second crime was assassinating the Austrian Archduke Franz Ferdinand, which started World War I. You tracked him down by following the clues, and you put him in prison for 45 ape seconds, which is equivalent to three human minutes.

I know about that too.

These are just a few of the monkey crimes you have solved during your career as the Monkey Detective. Now it is time to celebrate your success with a big glass of wine.

Go get yourself a big glass of wine.

You keep your wine in the trunk of this car. The car belongs to your neighbor, but he said you could store all your wine in there. He lets you do that because he is in love with you and he thinks that if he lets you hide your wine in his car, you will marry him.

Open up your trunk and drink a very big glass of a lot of wine.

Forget everything and go marry your neighbor.

Here is your neighbor’s house. Your neighbor has been in love with you ever since he saw you naked on the cover of Endlessly Naked Detective Magazine. He is sitting on the floor of his house right now, waiting to marry you.

Knock on your neighbor’s door and marry him.

You knock on the door of the house, and your neighbor comes out to greet you. Your neighbor’s name is Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always, and he is a Knight of the Realm. You hear him being in love with you deep inside of his suit of armor. “Hello. Please have sex with my big honkin’ crotch for 1,000 days and nights,” says Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always.

I will NEVER have sex with your big honkin’ crotch. I have come to marry you.

I just came by to say that I am not in love with you.

“Would you be in love with me if I gave you an extremely old computer?”

Yes.

No.

“Here is my old computer. It is from 1997.”

I am in love with you.

You decide to get married to your neighbor. You go down to the lake to see the Love Wizard. “What do you want?” the Love Wizard screams at you.

Can I be married to my neighbor?

“Sure, whatever!” the Love Wizard shrieks. “You are married now. Thank you for coming to my lake, and remember my motto: ‘There’s no maximum to the number of people you can be married to!’”

Okay, you’re married to your neighbor now. Better go drink your wine now.

Go drink a big gulp of wine from a gigantic big cup of wine.

You and your neighbor are married now, but neither of you care about it at all. You return to your neighbor’s car.

Open up the trunk and start drinking the wine.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh shit and hell…

Oh shit and hell…

WHERE IS YOUR WINE?

THE WINE IS GONE!

Holy fuck of piss! Some criminal has stolen your wine! Where is your incredible wine? Your hot nectar of juice? YOUR WINE??? YOUR BOILING-HOT SYRUP OF SAP??? WHERE HAS GONE TO YOUR WINE OF?????

WHERE’S THE WINE, ASSHOLE???? IT GOT STOLEN!!!!! THE WINE DID!!!! SOME TYPE OF CRIME-THIEF STOLE UP ALL THE WINE!!!!!!

SHRIEK WITH RAGE.

SCREAM WITH ANGUISH.

BELLOW WITH A COMBINATION OF PANIC AND LUST.

No! This is no time to be loud with a tantrum! You are a detective, and this is a crime scene. You need to search the crime scene for clues.

Search the crime scene for clues.

Check the trunk of the car one more time…

You look around the crime scene, and you see something familiar…something…yellow…

Investigate the yellow thing.

Just as you thought! Bananas! This is the famous yellow vegetable that gets eaten by monkeys! This means that the criminal who stole your wine was a monkey! And there’s only one person with the skills and expertise necessary to figure out which monkey stole your wine…

Who?

WHAT THE HELL OF SHIT??? WHERE HAS BECOME OF GONE AS OF YOUR WINE IS??? HOW COULD IT BE THIS FUCKED??? THE WINE IS JUNKED UP AND STOLEN AND MISSING, AND CRIMINALS THIEVED IT INTO OBLIVION!!! FUCK AND HECK!!! HOW DID IT BECOME GONE IN THIS MANNER???

SHRIEK WITH RAGE.

SCREAM WITH ANGUISH.

BELLOW WITH A COMBINATION OF PANIC AND LUST.

“Ah, shit. Then I guess I’m doomed to pine after you from a distance until the end of the world. It’s every knight’s worst nightmare,” says Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always. “In the meantime, please feel free to continue storing your wine in the trunk of my car.” He closes the door, and you can hear him crying while he blasts the album Salad-Flavored Frown, Ranch-Flavored Tears by the legendary band The Gloomy Scoundrels. This is the album that Knights of the Realm are required by law to play when they have had their hearts broken.

Go back to Sir Laundry Tomorrow-Always’ car and drink your wine from his trunk.

You! The Monkey Detective! You must go find out which monkey stole your wine and either put them into jail or send them to Donkey Heaven, which is hell for monkeys!

It’s time to start investigating The Case of the Monkey Who Stole Your Wine!

Begin figuring out which monkey stole your wine.

It’s time to begin your investigation. To catch the nasty monkey that did thief stuff to your gorgeous wine, you’re going to need to go to the type of forest where monkeys live: the jungle.

Go to the jungle.

Good choice. Tons of monkeys live in the jungle. It’s one of the places where they like to hang out and be gross with each other. You are about to enter the jungle when all of a sudden you hear someone yell, “Wait! Don’t go in there, Monkey Detective!”

Turn around to see who it is.

You turn around and find yourself face to face with Natural Simon, the world’s most famous nature documentarian. Natural Simon has a show on the BBC called Skittles Safari, where Natural Simon finds the most exotic and beautiful animals in the world and feeds them Skittles to teach the world about which animals die when you feed them Skittles.

“Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Natural Simon. “I just want you to know that you better not interfere with too much nature in this big jungle right here that we’re both looking at. I’m going to be filming an episode of Skittles Safari, and I need you to stay away from all the animals so that I can feed Skittles to them in a natural way.”

Be quiet, Natural Simon. I need to go into the jungle so that I can figure out which monkey stole my wine.

Hey, Natural Simon, what happens to a buffalo when you feed it a big bucket of Skittles?

“You would know the answer to this if you watched my hourlong Christmas special, “Skittles Feasts On The American Plains.” I fed a buffalo a big bucket of Skittles, and the buffalo burped and then died. From this scientific experiment, we can conclude that when a buffalo eats a bucket of Skittles, it burps and then it dies. That is the magic of nature.”

Wow, that is truly beautiful to know. Thank you, Natural Simon.

I already knew that.

“Okay, whatever. I don’t care,” says Natural Simon. “Just make sure you don’t disturb nature too much.”

Nod and enter the jungle.

Give Natural Simon a kiss on the cheek.

“Please do not kiss me,” says Natural Simon. “When I became the host of my nature show, I had to swear a vow of celibacy to the BBC.”

Apologize to Natural Simon and enter the jungle.

Why did you have to swear a vow of celibacy to the BBC?

“In 1985, the legendary David Attenborough was shooting an episode of his popular nature documentary, Animals! Animals! Animals!” Natural Simon explains to you, “and he went up to a zebra and whispered, ‘My wife and I have sex all the time. Even on weekends.’ Listening to David Attenborough talk about his sex life made the zebra very upset, and so the zebra had no choice but to scream and run off a cliff and die. In order to avoid a similar disaster, the BBC has made everyone who appears on their channel take a vow of celibacy so that they can never make zebras commit frantic suicide by telling them how much sex they have.”

Thank Natural Simon for this wonderful story and enter the jungle.

You leave Natural Simon behind for the time being and enter the jungle.

The first person you meet in the jungle is Dennis the Lion. “Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion.

Hello, Dennis. How are you doing?

WHERE IS MY GODDAMN WINE, YOU FUCK-PERSON? WHERE IS THE SWEET SAP OF STICKINESS? WHERE IS THE HOT JUICE OF DISGUSTING GROSS NECTAR OF SYRUP OF DELICIOUS WINE? THE HOT PURPLE WINE!!! WHERE’S THE WINE???

You thank Natural Simon for the wonderful story about David Attenborough driving a zebra insane with his erotic tales, and you enter the jungle.

The first person you meet in the jungle is Dennis the Lion. “Hello, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion.

Hello, Dennis. How are you doing?

WHERE IS MY GODDAMN WINE, YOU FUCK-PERSON? WHERE IS THE SWEET SAP OF STICKINESS? WHERE IS THE HOT JUICE OF DISGUSTING GROSS NECTAR OF SYRUP OF DELICIOUS WINE? THE HOT PURPLE WINE!!! WHERE’S THE WINE???

“I’m doing fine, Monkey Detective,” says Dennis the Lion. “I just spent all afternoon watching a wasp lay its eggs in a caterpillar’s brain, and now I am waiting to die.”

That sounds like a wonderful way to spend your day.

I’m jealous of your perfect life.

It just doesn’t get any better than that, Dennis.

“Yes, it’s great. I cannot wait for my nest of eggs to hatch. How are you doing, Monkey Detective?”

Not so good. A monkey stole my wine.

“That’s terrible. Your mind must be insane with #WinePanic,” says Dennis the Lion.

Have you seen any suspicious monkeys that look like they might be hiding some stolen wine?

“As a matter of fact, I have seen a suspicious thing involving a monkey,” says Dennis the Lion. “One thing I saw is a famous monkey named Pervert-Pervert Gumbo walking into the jungle carrying a plastic bag of some kind. I couldn’t tell what was in the bag, but it smelled like it was stolen.”

Where can I find this Pervert-Pervert Gumbo?

“It just so happens that I know where Pervert-Pervert Gumbo’s secret #ApeLocation is, but why should I just tell you? Shouldn’t you do something nice for me before I tell you?”

No, you should just tell me where he lives.

“Oh, okay. Well, he lives in the River of Nasty Ideas. It’s just to the north of here.”

Travel north to the River of Nasty Ideas.

You travel north through the jungle’s nosy branches and thick old vines, and soon you arrive at the River of Nasty Ideas. This is where the monkey Pervert-Pervert Gumbo lives. He’s standing there with the grossest horrible smile plastered across his head. It is the grin of someone who has become happy because of something disgusting. He is terrible to know about.

“Monkeys and bugs can be…more than just friends,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. He stares at you with his disgusting grin and splashes some river water around with his hands.

Okay, that’s great. I didn’t want to know about that.

Listen, you horrendous ape, what do you know about my stolen wine?

“Wine is the romance syrup,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. “I have seen it…in my night’s dreams.”

Yes, but did you steal my wine?

“That depends…what does your wine look like?”

My wine is bottle-shaped.

My wine is yellow.

“Hm…I don’t remember seeing anything bottle-shaped recently,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo.

Are you sure you can’t remember anything?

Dennis the Lion says he saw you carrying a suspicious plastic bag. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that?

“I do remember something! One time my brother got sick, so I ate his legs and so I also got sick. I was barfing everywhere, and I got to stay home from driving school.”

I meant, do you remember anything about seeing my stolen wine.

“Oh…no, I haven’t seen anything involving your wine recently,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo.

Dennis the Lion says he saw you carrying a suspicious plastic bag. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about that?

“Oh, this thing?” asks Pervert-Pervert Gumbo as he waves a plastic bag around over his head. “This is my Garbage Pouch! I found it in the trash, and now I wave it around over my head a lot to let people know that I’m the kind of monkey that loves garbage.”

Wait a minute, if all you do with your Garbage Pouch is wave it around, then why were you carrying something inside of it?

Your story checks out, Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. I’ll let you go back to being horrible in the river…but I’ll be keeping an eye on you.

“Oh, well, Dennis the Lion must have seen me carrying around my fish,” says Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. You see, every month I fill up my Garbage Pouch with a bunch of fish, and I carry the pouch around with me until the fish go rotten. When the fish go rotten, I celebrate by going to the bathroom. Then I dump the rotten fish off at a local elementary school so that the children can learn about how death makes everything smell bad. Then I fill up my Garbage Pouch with more fish, and the beautiful cycle begins anew.”

That’s a truly beautiful and moving story about the cycle of nature.

I have never heard of anything more horrible.

“Thank you.”

You are one of the worst monkeys I’ve ever met in my time as a Monkey Detective. Now I’m going to leave.

“I am an innocent angel,” says the disgusting monkey. “I am like Cupid, but even more naked and even more in a river. But I know about a nasty-bad monkey who maybe stole your wine!”

Who is it?

“Her name is Princess Neil Armstrong, and she is one of the most nasty-bad monkeys in the whole of the monkey world. I bet she’s the one who stole your wine! She lives in the jungle castle called Goose Manor.”

Go find the castle Goose Manor and interrogate Princess Neil Armstrong.

You leave behind the River of Nasty Ideas and venture into the jungle to find Goose Manor. As you’re leaving, you hear Pervert-Pervert Gumbo shout behind you, “Wait, Monkey Detective! I have one more very important thing to tell you!”

Ignore Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and keep walking.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

You ignore Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and continue walking deeper into the jungle. “Please! Monkey Detective! Please listen to me! This is extremely important!”

Keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert and continue walking away.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

You keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert Gumbo and keep walking deeper into the jungle. “Monkey Detective, the information I have is vital for you!” cries Pervert-Pervert Gumbo. “You’ll die without it! Please just listen to what I have to say!”

Keep ignoring Pervert-Pervert and continue walking away.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

“Please! Monkey Detective! You need to listen to me! You need to turn around and hear what I have to say! The fate of your life hangs in the balance! The fate of the world hangs in the balance! Please listen to me!”

Disappear into the jungle and leave Pervert-Pervert Gumbo behind.

Turn around to see what Pervert-Pervert Gumbo has to say.

“Sometimes, monkeys and bugs start out as good friends, but then the monkeys and bugs start to feel things…beautiful romantic things…and the friendship between the monkeys and the bugs becomes…something more…and the monkeys and the bugs kiss each other and…they have sex with each other (a.k.a. fuck each other). The monkeys have sex with the cockroaches and the beetles and the mosquitos and the many other types of bugs that they used to be friends with, and sometimes a monkey’s driving teacher sees him having se

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