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punkshort · 10 months

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Chapter Two

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

May 2003

It had been almost a month since you started your new job and you were getting the hang of things quickly. You always prided yourself on learning fast and being an overachiever. Everybody in your department seemed very friendly and helpful, but you really hit it off with Colleen and Debbie, given the proximity of your desks, and your mutual age range. It felt nice to have a couple friends, although you have yet to hang out outside of work, so were they really your “friends”? They had invited you out drinking with them a couple of times, but you politely declined, still feeling a little shy.

You had, however, been spending more time with one of the few men in your department, Justin, who worked in payroll. You could tell he was interested in you as more than just friends, so you weren’t shocked when he asked you out on a date. In a moment of weakness, you agreed, figuring it was about time you got out on the town and had a little fun. Justin was a little taller than you but not by much. He had sandy blonde hair and kind, brown eyes, always clean shaven, and most importantly he was a safe bet. You could tell by the moment you met, he was a mild mannered, sweet guy, very non-threatening. He was easy to get along with, and you hoped with time, maybe you could develop stronger feelings towards him. You haven’t had a boyfriend since college, and you were starting to become lonely. A quiet, sweet guy is just what you thought you needed to shake the dust off.

As far as work went, you were getting rather confident in your abilities in your new role. You were even beginning to learn about some of the company’s clients over the phone when you called requesting payment status on past due invoices. Today was one of those days. You had been on the phone for nearly half an hour with Mr. Sullivan, a client who was behind a few months on his payments.

Miller & Miller was remodeling a few floors of a high rise into office space for Mr. Sullivan’s insurance company, which had been growing exponentially to the point where Mr. Sullivan was having trouble keeping up with all the business, let alone his bills. However, you sadly learned that Mr. Sullivan’s wife had unexpectedly been hospitalized for the past 3 weeks, and you could tell listening to his voice shake over the phone that it was hard for him to talk about. You patiently listened to him and gave gentle words of encouragement when the moments called for it, and at the end of the call he assured you that the check he promised to mail out today would cover all the backed invoices. You hung up the phone, thanking him for addressing the matter, and wished him and his wife well.

“Sheesh, that was a long call, what was that all about?” Colleen asked, craning her neck around the wall of your cubicle. You turned and filled her in on Mr. Sullivan and his wife, and how you had felt bad asking for money when he clearly had just too much going on at the moment. She stood from her desk and entered your cube as you spoke. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail today and a floral skirt with a pink blouse. You started to wonder if all she owned was pink. It definitely matched her personality. Colleen leaned against the back of your desk as you finished your story, nodding along, brows knit.

"Make sure to fill Heather in before our meeting today, in case Joel asks what the deal is,” she reminded you. You froze for a second, forgetting that today was the department meeting with Joel. It was your first meeting with him, and even the first time laying eyes on him. Having only heard stories for the past month, your imagination was beginning to make this man out to be a big, bad wolf.

“Right,” you nodded, jotting down the reminder on a post-it note. “Good call, thank you. I completely forgot; I should get some notes ready on the other clients I know about.” You chewed your lip nervously, and Colleen picked up on it.

“Don’t stress it! He probably won’t even acknowledge you today, just lay low, and avoid eye contact. Ha, it sounds like I’m describing a how you should act if you see a bear!” She joked, and you gave her a forced laugh in response. Colleen walked back to her desk and you began furiously looking up all of the clients you are familiar with, jotting down notes on your pad for the upcoming meeting that afternoon.

The morning flew by, and Heather was booked with meetings all day. You never got a chance to touch base with her about your notes, so you sent her an email around 11am with all the information you had, praying she would be at her desk at some point before your department meeting with Joel and print it out, at the very least. Still, just in case, you grabbed your notepad as the whole team filed out the door together to the 10th floor conference room after lunch.

Once upstairs, you all settled into a long room with an equally long table, with a huge glass wall that overlooked the city, and another wall with a large TV screen installed so that presentations could be displayed. A conference phone, and a pitcher of water with glasses sat in the center of the long, dark wood table, the Miller & Miller logo emblazoned on the glasses.

Justin settled in the chair next to you. He shot you a shy smile and reassuredly grazed his pinky finger against the back of your hand. You glanced up from the contact and smiled back at him. He was so sweet and gentle, but you were still lacking that spark. It had been a few weeks of you seeing each other several times outside of work. You knew you had to decide soon about this relationship, either take the next step and sleep with him, or end things. You dreaded thinking about the tension in the office if you stop seeing Justin, but the spark just wasn’t there yet.

Heather hurriedly entered the room, taking a seat at one end of the table. You opened your mouth, about to get her attention and ask if she saw your email, when the door swung open behind her and in walked Joel. You snapped your mouth shut and your eyes darted up to finally take him in.

You already picked up on the vibe everyone told you about: he radiated a certain level of irritation across his tanned face. He had an angular nose; and messy, dark curls for hair that somehow also looked styled, and a patchy beard along his jaw, which ticked to the side as he walked. He had dark eyes that did not even bother to sweep over any of you already seated as he made his way to the head of the table. He wore a pair of grey dress pants and a light blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing off toned and tanned forearms. Behind him walked another man, who appeared to be a few years younger than him, hair longer than Joel’s but just as dark. He had a smattering of facial hair, but less so along the sides of his jaw. He wore a dark black suit with a white shirt, and a blue tie. Tommy – you determined for yourself, as you watched the two men sit next to one another.

Tommy ran his eyes over the group and shot you all a tight smile as he readjusted himself in the chair next to his brother. Joel kept his eyes down on the papers in front of him as he sorted them, still ignoring the presence of everyone else in the room. It was so quiet, you thought everyone could hear your heart hammering in your chest. It appeared nobody planned to speak until Joel decided the meeting began. You averted your gaze from the two brothers and reviewed your notes again for the hundredth time, your stomach twisting in knots over the tension in the room. You snuck a glance back over to Heather at the other end of the table. Her face was stoic and unreadable. She kept her eyes down on her portfolio, placing a calculator next to her on the table, patiently waiting.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take the tension any longer, Joel finally stopped shuffling his papers around and looked up. You tried your best to not look over at him again, the advice about staying below the radar swimming in the back of your head, but something about him was magnetic. Your head remained tilted downward at your notes, but you found your gaze was slowly making its way along the length of the table, reaching his large and rough looking hands resting on his papers, continuing up his forearms to take in his broad shoulders that looked to be fighting against the fabric of his button down, and finally landed on his face again. Your eyes widened when you found that his gaze had already been settled on you, and noticed the whole time you were checking him out.

Were you checking him out? Or were you just curious? Shit.

Your eyes darted away and back to your notepad. You felt your pulse quickening in your throat, as you gently swallowed and nervously squirmed in your chair. It was then that Justin discreetly placed a tender hand on your knee, sensing your discomfort. Unbeknownst to you, Justin’s movement hadn’t been all that subtle. Joel saw, and then flicked his eyes away from you, back to Heather.

“Alright, let’s get started, I got a full afternoon so I'd like to keep this short. What're the numbers for month end, let’s see ‘em up on the screen.”

His voice matched his gruff and harsh demeanor. He had a deep baritone, with a slight twang to the way he spoke, which made you think he must have grown up somewhere else but tried to suppress the accent. You did your best to stay focused on the meeting, but your mind kept wandering to Joel, in a way you did not expect before entering the room. You stay tuned into his voice, trying to pick up little hints as to where that accent was from, and you found yourself daydreaming about those large hands, what it would feel like if –

Stop it. Get ahold of yourself, you have a boyfriend!

You gently shook your head, as if the physical motion would actually make those thoughts go away. You figured you must be losing it; this guy was at least ten years older than you and certainly not the type of man you had been with before, not your type at all. Maybe that’s why he’s in your head.

You had not been paying attention to the meeting well enough, but when you heard the name ‘Sullivan’, it snapped you out of your daydream. Joel repeated himself, with an edge to his voice now, staring Heather down from across the table, hands twitching on his papers.

“How the hell have we let this guy get away with 3 weeks of unpaid invoices?” he growled. “I am alternatin’ two crews a day on that job of his, I ain’t gonna waste another minute of my time if he can’t be bothered –“ Suddenly, a voice cut him off.

“He is mailing a check today, for the entire balance due on his account.”

The whole room fell silent. You wondered for a moment what the big deal was, why everyone was looking at you like that, until you realized you said those words. You gulped, scared to look at Joel. You felt the heat from his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. You kept your eyes glued to your fingers, which were fidgeting in your lap. You were fucked. Not only did you do exactly what your co-workers told you not to do, but you interrupted the man who runs the entire company. A man known for bursts of rage that made people cry and quit. You braced yourself, waiting for the worst, but it never came. It felt like an eternity went by without a word spoken, until finally Joel broke the silence.

“That’s great, sweetheart, but unless I got a check in my hand, promises don’t mean shit. There’s no reason this guy should be jerkin' us around, I’m gonna go down to the site today and pull my guys til we got that check.” He turned his attention back to Heather, ready to move onto the next topic.

You still had yet to look up at him until now. Something in you was still hung up on the way Mr. Sullivan sounded on the phone, the story he gave you about his wife broke your heart. The words Debbie said on your first day about ‘this company is not saving lives’ rushed back through your head, and suddenly you felt this switch flip. The company made record profits last month, and this customer was a real human being who needed to be shown some compassion. Maybe you were naïve, but it felt so cruel to just assume everyone who skips out on their bills is a crook. Before you could give it another thought, your eyes shot up and locked onto his.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you stated firmly, noticing in your peripheral some of your co-workers shifting uncomfortably and exchanging glances. “If you care to know, his wife has been in the hospital for three weeks fighting an infection the doctors can’t seem to fix. He’s got his hands full, he apologized profusely to me this morning and I believe he is sending us that check. If you prefer, I can go down to his office and pick up the check myself.”

A part of you couldn’t believe you said that, and not only that but said it with such resolve, your voice not even faltering. You refused to break eye contact with Joel, no matter how intimidating and uncomfortable it felt. His eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenched, and two of his fingers began to gently tap on the table in front of him. You kept it together and continued to look him dead in the eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach begin to work their way into a frenzy, and the sweat started to accumulate on the back of your neck. You briefly wished you had worn your hair up so your neck could get more air. Your cheeks started to feel warm under his gaze, but you couldn’t back down now.

Finally, Joel gave his answer.

"Fine. But if we don’t get that check, it’s comin’ out of your paycheck.” He looked away and started asking Heather about more financial reporting, but you had no idea what was said exactly. Your head rushed with blood pounding in your ears. As the adrenaline washed away, you wanted to get up and use the restroom to collect yourself, but you could not give Joel the satisfaction of getting under your skin.

Thankfully, the meeting only went for a few more minutes. Your team gathered their things and quickly exited the conference room. By happenstance, you were the last to file out. You don’t know why, but as you walked through the door, you shot Joel one more glance over your shoulder. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to your retreating form. They no longer looked hardened, but they showed a glimmer of something else, like amusement.

After you left the room, Joel’s eyes remained stuck on the empty doorway. He and Tommy were the only two that remained at the table. Tommy whistled lowly and leaned forward to catch Joel’s attention.

“She’s a sparkplug, wonder who she is, I don’t remember seein' her before,” Tommy said to Joel, who finally tore his eyes away from the doorway and looked at his brother. “Maybe I should find out what her deal is.”

“Her deal?” Joel nearly spit out, anger flaring in his belly.

Your “deal”? Your deal was clear as day to him – the Ken doll next to you marked his territory the first moment he got. The guy who looked like he couldn’t change a tire and probably never raised his voice in his whole life. The guy who likely skated by on looks, and never bothered to focus on a personality. Joel knew the Ken doll worked here for a while, but he couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t matter, anyway. Why was he even thinking about this?

“Yeah, her ‘deal,’” Tommy emphasized the last word for dramatic effect and rolled his eyes. He stood up from his chair. “She’s pretty. And she seems fiery. I like that.”

Tommy lifted his eyes from the papers in his hand to grin at his brother, who was scowling in return.

"What’s the problem? I can’t have a little fun?” he sulked, his grin slowly disappearing.

“No, I don’t think you should be screwin’ our employees, Tommy. You run this company with me, what the hell does that say about us?” Joel stood up and looked him in the eye to show he wasn’t joking.

“Aw, come on, Joel, it doesn't got to mean anythin'. I’ve done it before, it’s never caused a problem.” Tommy’s gaze turned back towards the door you had just left, his thoughts clouded with the last image of you. Joel’s anger began to flare.

"I don’t care, you leave her alone.” he replied. He snatched up his paperwork from the meeting and brushed past Tommy, exiting the room and heading towards his office. Tommy jogged up behind him, as the realization hit.

"Oh shit, you got a thing for her?” Tommy teased, and nudged Joel with his elbow once he caught up. “Why didn’t you just say that? I won’t go near her, give you a decent shot at ropin’ her in,” he laughed, but Joel stopped in his tracks, which caused Tommy to stumble and turn around in surprise.

"I ain’t got a thing for her, I just don’t think you should be screwin’ the women around here. Sets a bad example, is all.” Joel huffed and picked up his pace once more, turning into his office.

The room was massive. It was the biggest office in the building, although Tommy’s was only smaller by about 75 square feet. The office had the greatest view over the hustle and bustle of the city. It had a couple of velvet navy couches off to the corner that were surrounded by a glass coffee table for when he entertained clients or other executives in the company, and a small mini bar in the other corner, which also housed a coffee machine. Joel rounded his desk, which was stationed so it was overlooking the fantastic city view. He sat down in the plush desk chair and looked up to find Tommy standing on the other side, who was clearly not satisfied with the conversation.

“Alright, brother, I’ll let it go. I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it go.” Tommy suppressed a small smile as he turned to leave the office. “Oh, but one more thing,” Tommy stopped in the doorway and waited until he had Joel’s attention again. “She’s definitely got a thing for you. I saw the way she was lookin’ at you, I’m not stupid.” And with that, Tommy exited to return to his own office, satisfied with the impact he made, and left Joel once again staring at an empty doorway.

Joel let a small smile spread across his face now that he was alone, glad he didn’t misread the way he caught you looking at him.

You managed to get back to your desk without saying a word to anyone. The entire elevator car had been dead silent. When you sat down in your chair, you felt like your heart rate had finally returned to normal and your head was feeling less fuzzy. You shook your computer mouse to bring the machine back to life and tapped in your password. ‘Incorrect password’ flashed on the screen, so you tried again. It took three tries for you to slow down enough and enter in the password correctly.

OK, so maybe you were still rattled.

As you waited for your computer to log back in and load all your open programs, you closed your eyes and rested your face in the palms of your hands, elbows resting on the top of your desk.

You jumped when you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and whipped around to find Justin standing next to you with his hands held up in mock surrender.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to check and see how you were doing,” he gave a sweet smile and stretched out his hand once again, caressing your shoulder. You sighed, giving a weak smile in return.

"I’m fine,” you said, “I don’t know what got into me, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

It was then that Debbie, who had clearly been waiting for a chance to interrupt, came around the corner.

“Don’t sweat it, girl. That was nothing, you must have caught him on a good day. That was probably the nicest I’ve ever seen him.” She assured you, leaning casually up against your cubical wall. You gave a shaky laugh, which she returned and said “I’m only kind of kidding, though. He was in a good mood, maybe he finally got laid last night.”

Colleen came over after listening to the voicemail she had waiting for her.

"Ha, I doubt it. Nobody’s seen him with anyone for years, not since Amy left him.”

“Who’s Amy?” you asked curiously. You were surprised Colleen never shared this bit of gossip with you before.

“Amy’s his ex-fiancée. They broke up right around the time I started, so I guess that would have been 5 years ago now? Anyway, no one knows what happened, other than it made Joel the guy you saw today. Well, he was pretty tame today, but you know what I mean,” explained Colleen. “He’s been grumpy ever since.”

You all froze when you heard the electronic keypad on the other side of your locked door, indicating someone was entering the department. Colleen and Debbie quickly went back to their respective desks. Justin valiantly stayed by your side, although it was likely he stayed only because his desk was so far away, it would have been obvious he was fleeing by the time the person entered the room.

Heather pushed the door open, immediately made eye contact with you, heading in your direction. She gave you an apologetic smile once she got to the opening of your cube.

"I’m so sorry, I just saw that email from this morning, that was completely my fault, I should have been the one to handle that. How are you doing?”

Relieved she wasn’t mad at you for speaking up, you smiled back, your confidence returning.

"I’m good, really. It wasn’t that bad. I think I just got in my head about it because of the stories I’ve heard, I thought it would be worse.”

“Honestly, it usually is worse. He must have taken a liking to you. I had a voicemail waiting for me when I got back to my desk, he wanted to know who you were. He wasn’t mad, just didn’t recognize you. He wants you let him know personally when that check comes from Mr. Sullivan. I can go with you to his office when the time comes, don’t worry, I won’t throw you to the wolves!” she said with a chuckle.

You could feel the tips of your ears getting hot at the prospect of seeing Joel again so soon. You had thought you would have another month to recover. You nodded in acknowledgement, and with that, Heather bid the department farewell, late for another meeting. Justin looked back down at you once Heather left.

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go camping this weekend? There’s a great spot I like to go to just outside the city, it’s fantastic when you need to clear your head, and the weather is supposed to be perfect. What do you think?”

You figured why not. Camping wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but it was something to do. Plus, you had to give more attention to this relationship and decide which fork in the road you were going to take.

That weekend, after having a few glasses of wine with the picnic Justin packed for you two, you did the last thing you could think of to summon up any strong feelings for your boyfriend. As Justin sloppily thrusted inside of you while you laid spread out in a field of wildflowers, all you could think of when you closed your eyes was strong, calloused hands gripping the side of your hip and a rough, patchy beard rubbing along your jaw.

Once you returned from the trip, you gently ended things with Justin.

Chapter Three

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller series #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff

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just-antithings · 11 months

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I'm not saying adults insisting they only need to read YA books and watch children's cartoons is leading to this culture wide phobia of sex which in turn is becoming a useful vector for the increasing spread of fascism except that is exactly what I'm saying.

Im not that anon but want to expand on their thought, if they're saying what I think they are.

I thought of this more when seeing an old post of someone saying their English teacher should have let them write a report on Divergent instead making them read 1984. Someone commented supporting the OP, saying that they never read Divergent, but 1984 is problematic. Iirc, the commenter referred to Winston (I think that's the protag in 1984; sorry I haven't reread it in years) as a creep. I can't remember is this specific commenter called Winston a misogynist, but that's a common complaint I hear when people say they don't like 1984.

The screenshot of that post also had other screenshots, including the twt posts of YA authors saying that the classics were problematic. It's a sentiment I keep seeing around book twt before I deactivated my account but still on booktube as well, and it's always booktubers who also read and rant about Colleen Hoover, because they know her name gets clicks. Or booktubers that do those videos titled "I read [old/popular/controversial] series so you don't have to".

Sorry, sliding off topic a bit. Going back to what anon said, YA books tend to be more sanitized. They're supposed to be written for a 15-19 audience, so sex and gore aren't supposed to be explicit. There are YA books with sex scenes. 2 I read recently have sex scenes, but they aren't explicit. One uses mostly poetic language and infers to what's happening, and the other essentially fades to black after they get into bed, as they're touching and then picks up the next morning. (One of these YA books had a big controversy on booktube a few years ago for being problematic, though. Gee, wonder why /s)

But for the most part, often for people who enjoy urban fantasy or romances but not steamy scenes, they may go for YA, since it's usually more "PG". Unfortunately, some people get it in their head that this makes YA inherently "better", that adult books that are being more explicit are only doing it to get more sales, when YA tbh has a tighter hold on it marketing-wise.

Okay, I'm not published (yet), but I've been studying it when I need to take a break from writing to see what course is best for me and what I want to write. YA is becoming oversaturated in the market, so it's not as big a "money making genre" for debut authors as it might have been once (and I'd argue that even in the past when YA was smaller, you still had to be lucky, known, or connected to get that 6-figure check for a debut YA novel). YA is more likely to get scrutinized, considering its supposed to he for a younger audience, so a YA author wanting to push boundaries is going to receive more push-back than an adult lit author.

Now pushback happens in adult lit, too, like Ava Reid saying her editor or publisher (I forget who) told her that Juniper&Thorn might be too dark. (I've read it. Yes, it's dark, but bad reviews I saw for the book blew it way out of proportion. If you (gen) like lyrical/poetic narration and gothic horror, I highly suggest it).

But it feels like there's more of a push to keep YA books "clean". You can find some outliers, but like the YA I mentioned above, those outliers in YA that push boundaries can get wrapped in controversy and called problematic.

And for whatever reason, some people on booktube say this is a good thing and say "think of the children!"

They will say censorship is bad but then advocate for sanitized YA to be read instead of classics, because the classics are "bad" and "teach bad things" and "should be left in the past". They advocate for censorship without realizing they are advocating for censorship. It's exhausting, and as someone who wants to be published and does enjoy a lot of YA, it makes me feel discouraged. I don't think I'm "pushing boundaries" at all in my writing or saying anything new, but I'm very sure it's not sanitized enough for most publishers, especially if I wanted to try for one of the beg houses in the US.

Tl;dr One of the major problems in this anti-intellectualism is capitalism.

#mod erin #ask #posted without comment #fascism mention

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marcholasmoth · 2 years

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OSRR: 2742

today was another lovely day.

i spent last night sleeping without a shirt and waking up every so often because of how badly my shoulders hurt. when i woke up around 8ish i put my shirt back on, threw the "snoozin" sign up on the doorknob, and went back to sleep.

that was a really good idea.

when i woke up around 11, i took a shower and put on some aloe, got dressed and went in search of people and food.

i stopped at the blue iguana cantina upstairs and got a burrito, which was decent. i think next time i'd get tacos. after i picked up some luggage tags and went in search of people but ended up just going around confused for a bit because i couldn't find my way around before heading back to the room to drop off the tags.

upon arrival, i passed our head stateroom attendant who told me they'd just finished with our room. here is the towel art from today:

it made me really happy.

anyway, i went to the elevator and to my great surprise the people i was looking for were there in the elevator! so bob, colleen, lisa, and i went down to deck 8 where joel and john were finishing their lunch. i grabbed some ice cream and followed bob and colleen out to the deck outside for the pig and anchor, and lisa joined us with some pizza and we sat and ate together. after finishing the three of them went to get ice cream, so i stayed with the stuff until they got back.

after that, i headed over to go get my charms from the watch shop! i got the five charms and a bracelet that's a little too small for ten bucks, which was nice, and a really nice and effective salesman named raj talked to me about the sale they had happening today, but yknow, because i'm totally broke, the credit check didn't go through instantly so it'll be declined, but that's fine. it meant i didn't spend more money on jewelry there. so that was good.

i went back upstairs, stopping to get joel's clothes from lisa and john before heading back to the room.

i emptied my pockets and packed up the rest of the stuff, so my suitcase is all stuffed and everything. the room was pretty clean, and joel informed me he's shit at packing. which i observed firsthand. holy shit.

anyway, i fit everything of mine and everything else of his into that suitcase, including all of the cups and other things i've gotten except andy the penguin. i'm pretty proud of myself.the bag that currently holds andy will also hold blooper on the flight back tomorrow but blooper stayed tonight, as the rest of the luggage had to be put out to be taken to the pickup stations for the morning.

laid in bed for a bit with joel until someone said something about alchemy and we went down, and then it was time for dinner and we went down to dinner which was (1) really good and (2) happy but also (3) bittersweet because it was the last dinner of the cruise. we got pictures of our group with our waitstaff and i was pretty happy about that.

after dinner i came back and just hung out by myself, watching hgtv and the ships channels and stuff until joel texted me about stargazing so i went on the balcony, said "holy shit," texted him back "yeah okay i'll be up," put on clothing again, and went back upstairs to find joel, who was with his parents. i sat with them but it suddenly got really loud, which was annoying, but joel and i shortly thereafter went off to find the best place to look at stars on the boat, only to run into our group of friends from the plane! we talked to them for like half an hour or so, determined we'll probably see them at breakfast or in the wild, and came back to the room.

it's now a little past 1am, and we have to get up for 7, so it's time to sleep.

i'll be sad it's over, but i'll be very happy to get land back under my feet for more than a few hours at a time. even if it's covered in snow.

i'll be excited for the cold.

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #2000s #2700s #sunshine boy #cruise adventure 2022

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #463

“the siren sings a lonely song of all the wants & hungers / the lust of love, a brute desire”

Describe the person that you would like to be in three years. I want my mental health to be in great condition, I really want to be in much better physical shape, ideally be living with somebody in our own place, have a job I'm happy with, have an improved social life, my own license and car... Think back to when you first met your significant other (or ex). Was your first impression of them accurate? It's funny, I honestly don't remember what my first impression of Girt was. I don't even recall our first interaction. I'm sure it was most likely that he was friendly, because he is and always has been. What is your most noticeable personality trait? Probably that I'm really, really shy. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Which of your family members do you resemble the most? I guess one of my immediate sisters? People tend to say stuff like they can definitely tell we're related. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Who knows you better than anyone else? Hell, probably whoever reads these. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? I guess you could call dating Girt a "new chapter." I have a much, much stronger feeling of this attempt being more successful than the last now that I've been able to change my angle on how I see him. What’s the most expensive thing your car needed to get done? I don't have my own vehicle and never have. If you had a thousand dollars to spend on a pricey brand you like but can’t really afford (until now of course), which ONE brand would you choose? *shrug* Most products of highly expensive brands I find hideous anyway. Do you still talk to any of your old teachers? Yeah. One is a close family friend and actually our landlord. Does your family still use the home phone or are you all on cell phones now? We haven't had a landline is yeeeeaaarrrrsssss. Ever go to another school’s prom? No; my boyfriend went to the same school as me. Do you ever venture into the woods? What do you normally do there? No; we live in the city now. :/ When I DID live in the woods, I absolutely loved wandering around with my camera for stuff to take pics of. Does your significant other ever make you mix CDs? None ever have but omg I wish that would be adorable. How did you dress your freshman year of high school? I was one of them emo kids. Would you ever date your best friend of the opposite sex? WELP that's what I'm doing lol. Would you say you have a high sex drive or not so much? I'd call it normal? Higher sometimes, lower other times, but not to either extreme. Come with an unpopular opinion. Silent Hill: Homecoming is a great game and while there's a lot of fan service from the movie, it belongs in the series. It's actually my second (or third)-favorite installment. Most of the SH community absolutely hate that game. What’s the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? A lot of shit Colleen would say if we got into arguments. She'd ridicule effects of my depression, said I'd never know what it's like to pay my own bills, stuff like that. She's hateful as fuck and everything cut deep. What’s fake about you? Like extensions, fake nails, botox etc. Nothing physical. If you got the chance, would you audition for a reality show? No. Have you ever gotten into a Facebook fight? More than once. What’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever experienced irl? Hm, I'm unsure. Favorite flavor of jelly bean? Probably watermelon. Do you use Tinder? If yes, have you ever met up with someone you matched? No. You do you, but if I understand Tinder correctly, it just seems... really shallow to me. Like don't you JUST see their picture to decide if you're interested or not? It just enforces the false belief that appearance really matters in love. You just poured your heart out to your crush and all he/she does is respond “k”. What do you respond/do? Well, I don't have a crush anymore; my boyfriend and I literally exchanged "I love you"s last night. That's not a crush. But for the sake of the question, I'll imagine I was single and this happened, in which case I would be both hurt and annoyed. Like, either tell me you return the feelings or not. It's not hard. What's your favorite thing to order from McDonald’s? I usually get a quarter pounder w/ cheese or a McDouble, occasionally with a small or medium fry, depending on how hungry I am. When do you feel your sexiest? Never, hunny. What's your favorite emoji? I don't really have one? It just depends on what the situation calls for. What’s your skincare routine? I don't really have one... I just use a washcloth to clean my face. Who all out of your immediate family smokes? My dad and stepmom. Do you like incense or candles better? Incense, totally. Do you respect your parents? Yeah. What’s your bf/gf’s name? It's technically Donald Jr., but since high school, I've known him as Girt, a nickname I won't explain for his privacy. Do you wear glasses? Yeah. Do you like The Beatles? I honestly don't. Except "Hey, Jude." What was the last reason you got excited? Last night. When we were saying goodbye, I was scared to, but I told Girt I loved him, and he immediately said it back confidently. My heart did like five flips. I'm still over the moon about it. Yes, we just got back together, but we've been in each other's lives as a constant since HS, and after changing my angle of how I looked at him, it's not at all platonic anymore. Do you know anyone who drinks the pickle juice from the jar? Sara does alskdjfklwejrl;er Name something crazy that’s happened recently? Uhhhh... I dunno. My life is very uneventful to have something really "crazy" happen. Can you say for a fact that you’re happy right now? I'm happy about some things, but also nervous and self-doubtful. Have you ever zip lined? No, but they look fun. I'd just be really scared of losing my grip. If you broke your computer, would you be able to fix it on your own? Ha, no. Have you ever been on a boat and got sick? No, but the one time I was at the beach and on a boat riding to an island, I was TERRIFIED I was going to get sick because of the waves. I didn't, thankfully. Did you sleep well last night? For the most part. My new mask might just be working. Do your parents try and plan your life for you? Not at all. Do you have any pictures of you kissing someone? Yes. List two things about yourself that you find embarrassing. My weight and how dark my leg hair is. Do you like to cuddle with your pet when you are sad? Yes. Do you find piercing attractive or unattractive? h o t Do you have any secret hiding spots in your room? To put money, yes. Do you like parmesan cheese on your spaghetti? Ew, no. I don't like parmesan. Does your best girl friend have any talents that you don’t? Yeah. She can animate well, for one. And sing like a fucking champ. Do you have any video game systems in your room? Which one(s)? My Nintendo DS Lite is in here. Well, and my laptop is a gaming one. What color eyes does the last person you kissed have? ... Oh WOW I've known this man for a fuckin decade and somehow I'm not sure??? But I want to say light blue? Have you ever taken a ride in a helicopter? No. Have you ever visited hot springs? No. How slowly or quickly would you say you eat? I'm aware I eat too fast, because my mom will point it out almost without fail if we eat in sight of each other. I'm not a messy eater at all, just... fast. Chewing your food and swallowing isn't a complex task. I've made active efforts to slow down, I just haven't been able to succeed. It doesn't feel normal. That and I've come to discover that when I chew food TOO much, I don't like the mushy texture of it in my mouth. What did you do the last time you were with friends? Yesterday Girt and I planned to watch shitty Netflix anime for some laughs, but we wound up starting Attack on Titan, which I am officially pretty into. What kind of cologne/perfume do you like the opposite sex to wear? I don't care if they wear any or not, so long as they know how to clean themselves and therefore not actually smell bad. If you celebrate Christmas, do you get a real tree or an artificial tree? We always use a fake one. Is there someone who means a lot to you but they don’t know that? My sisters probably don't, really... Is money important to you? Live your whole life poor and I want to see you answer "no" to this. Have you ever watched a meteor shower? No. Do you like Slim Jims? LOOOOOOOVE them. Would you rather write a mystery or love story? Love story. Are you muscular? No. Working for it. Do you have one of those removable hand-held shower heads? Yes. Originally, this house didn't, but I hated it so much that Mom bought one. How many burners does your stove have? Four. Has your car ever been broken into? Mom's hasn't.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''blood milk and sky'' by white zombie

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corymulpepper · 3 years

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Cory Mulpepper Intro

☆ CORY MULPEPPER —

BASICS

★ BIRTH DATE / 13 August, 1960 ★ BLOOD STATUS / Half-blood ★ PRONOUNS & IDENTITY / she/her; cis female ★ FACECLAIM / Sophie Simnett

ACADEMICS & ROOMING

★ PRIMARY SCHOOL / Cork Wizarding School, class of 1978 ★ ACADEMIC PURSUITS / Natural sciences degree, Potions cohort ★ HOUSE & YEAR / Hufflepuff, second year

POINTS OF INTEREST

★ Lydia, Nikolas’ wife, was born a squib. It positively broke his heart when the love of his life was unable to see her twin daughters start showing signs of magic themselves. But as Lydia had had a difficult upbringing because of her status in the wizarding world, Nikolas was just happy she’d finally found her peace. He told nothing but wonderful tales of his beautiful wife as bedtime stories to their daughters, who looked more and more like Lydia as the days passed by.

★ Cory, the loud mouth she could be, was not placed into Gryffindor upon arriving at Hogwarts. But her quieter sister, Colleen, was, while she was sorted into Hufflepuff. Cory carried a chip on her shoulder about that one for a long time coming, wanting to be sorted where their father had gone. Where she’d idolized half her life. But no, Colleen got in where Cory hadn’t. Their weekly meetings were soon diminished, Cory saying she was too busy with the workload to catch up on any gossip. The most they spoke now were holidays back at home, where they put on a show for their father. To be perfectly clear, this wasn’t something Colleen had ever wanted, but for most of her life just like in birth, she followed Cory, Cory’s wants, Cory’s needs. They came first.

★ Cory usually spends her time half-assing a dozen things; painting, riding her skateboard, her school work in potions. But when it came to quidditch, she put in 110%. But as much as she put into the game, Cory rarely saw positive results coming back. In Primary, she’d gotten ejected from two games in row, which ultimately got her kicked off the team. She’d been too aggressive (and broken more bones than anyone) and needed to turn a new leaf, but when she had, upon joining Hufflepuff’s team, her efforts once again went unnoticed. This time she was denied from a summer quidditch camp. It seemed no matter what route she rode, she never chose the right one at the right time. It didn’t help that she was playing with and against peers that simply outshined her on the field. Dawn Withey was going to be the talk of Hogwarts when she landed herself on a fancy, popular, professional quidditch team, while Cory just barely scratched the surface. Her cynicism didn’t stop her from trying, though. With her third year coming up and a possible captainship, more is on the line than ever.

★ Thankfully, growing up, the girls never had to rely on looking for summer jobs. Their pops let them open and close the store on weekends for extra money. Cory was sure she could’ve gotten extra school credit towards her potions work for working in an apothecary. She’d have to pull that card if her grades ever dropped, she decided. One afternoon, the shop was buzzing with Christmas crowds, and the next second everybody was fleeing the scene. The Menagerie next door had apparently caught fire, smoke now billowing over into Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary. Now, Cory couldn’t see much of what was happening once smoke grew thicker, but she knew a man had entered the shop. The man turned his wand on Cory, throwing Cory aside and knocking her right out until black was all she saw. When she awoke, alone in the shop, she knew that he had escaped with something in the commotion of it all. Cory had planned on going through inventory herself, but an item as rare as this, Mr. Mulpepper knew it was gone the second he returned to his shop. He immediately owled the DMLE. Cory’s yet to come forward with her statement of that afternoon, hardly believing anything truly happened as it all happened so quickly. The nightmares about it haven’t stopped.

TRAITS

✓ challenging; individualistic; responsive ✗ critical; self-conscious; reactive

extra shit

cory is on hufflepuff’s quidditch team, as a seeker! this is the one thing she never slacks off with and is always on time for. and im sure gives people a hard time if they’re not picking up the slack dlsfjasjf and it’s like SHUT UP CORY, YOU’RE NOT THE CAPTAIN. so any hufflepuff team connects hmu.

has a twiiin name colleen. cory is the “older” one. colleen’s gonna be an open bio if anyone has an itch 2 get silly wit me

is Dramatic af

is not totally full of hufflepuff pride and maybe gets points taken away every so often? oops. 19 years old and still actin’ up.

her about page is here

listens to a LOT of music. a lot of underground bands that people havent heard of allll the waaay to the huge names like rolling stones and the who. she’s never been to an actual, huge concert venue with a big band headlining. she’s only seen smaller shows here and there. despite that, doesnt own a whole lot of vinyl. cuz she really prefers the live experience better.

she would love a skateboard riding buddy for when the weather’s nicer!! and she paints only landscapes and oceans cuz she sucks at pretty much everything besides that. and always knows where the best party is happening. probably cant wait to have a low street house next year to throw her own parties.

opinionated for the fact that she just loves to hear herself talking

hmu for any relationships!! friendships, she is prone to enemies with her big mouth, she is bisexual AF so anything there, just anythaaaang <3

hmu for threads! it’s kinda a busy time so i get that <3 if not let’s plan stuff for when they get back to school :’ ) ty xoxo

#sleepingdintro

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sleepingdragon-rp · 3 years

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☆ CORINNE “CORY” MULPEPPER —

BASICS

★ BIRTH DATE / 13 August, 1960 ★ BLOOD STATUS / Half-blood ★ PRONOUNS & IDENTITY / she/her; cis female ★ FACECLAIM / Brianne Tju

ACADEMICS & ROOMING

★ SECONDARY SCHOOL / Cork Wizardry College, class of 1978 ★ ACADEMIC PURSUITS / Natural Sciences degree, Potions cohort ★ HOUSE & YEAR / Hufflepuff, class of 1981

POINTS OF INTEREST

★ It had been established in 1106 and not much had changed in ways of Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary except for its staff throughout the years. It stayed within the family and eventually reached the hands of Nikolas Mulpepper, an English botanist and potioneer, in the year of 1949. Outraged by the fellow apothecaries that littered the Wizarding world, Nikolas condemned them all for their greed and their use of harmful practices. Since then, Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary has been the most affordable apothecary to shop, with constant deals on cleaning solutions and performative draughts. And it’s no secret Nikolas is one to barter if a patron cannot afford the remedies they so dearly need. The shop has almost gone bankrupt multiple times and while Nikolas may pay the ultimate price by having to shut down his family’s century old shop, he would never go back on his ways. He’s always been loyal to the customer and have taught his two daughters the very same. Lydia, Nikolas’ wife, was born a Squib. It positively broke his heart when the love of his life was unable to see her twin daughters start showing signs of magic themselves. But as Lydia had had a difficult upbringing because of her status in the Wizarding world, Nikolas was just happy she’d finally found her peace. He told nothing but wonderful tales of his beautiful wife as bedtime stories to their daughters, who looked more and more like Lydia as the days passed by. It should come as no surprise that they’ve made a formal announcement – that they do not approve of Selwyn Apothecary’s Squib vaccine.

★ Born only minutes apart, it was safe to say the girls were inseparable from day one. This never, not once, got in the way of their individuality. Where one was brushing their teeth, the other one was using her toothbrush on the family dog’s teeth. Where one was doing arts and crafts, the other was using their scissors to give herself a new haircut. Two different sides of the same coin, essentially. They really became individuals upon attending Cork Wizardry College. They still shared a room, which wasn’t so different, until they began meeting friends of their own and attending different social gatherings. One would go to group palm readings, while the other went for live music shows. Even as time passed and distance began leaving its toll, the girls would still get together once a week with their favorite sweets and catch up on what boys or girls they were kissing. Cory, the loud mouth she could be, was not placed into Gryffindor upon arriving at Hogwarts. But her quieter sister, Colleen, was, while she was sorted into Hufflepuff. Cory carried a chip on her shoulder about that one for a long time coming, wanting to be sorted where their father had gone. Where she’d idolized half her life. But no, Colleen got in where Cory hadn’t. Their weekly meetings were soon diminished, Cory saying she was too busy with the workload to catch up on any gossip. The most they spoke now were holidays back at home, where they put on a show for their father. To be perfectly clear, this wasn’t something Colleen had ever wanted, but for most of her life just like in birth, she followed Cory, Cory’s wants, Cory’s needs. They came first.

TRAITS

✓ challenging; individualistic; responsive ✗ critical; self-conscious; reactive

☆ OOC — WRITTEN BY KATY, SHE/HER

#cory mulpepper*#oc*#archived*

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 110 prt 2

They hadn’t had that discussion...

“As smoothly as things are at the moment, I would still prefer you remained in Platt, at least during the night. You may visit, but I have noticed you’re particularly clingy to Keith right now. I think staying with him will help continue to keep your hormonal and emotional levels stabilised. You react strongly to touch and scent”

“Should I be taking off work?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“Babe, I’ll be okay. I know you want to be with me, but you’ll lose track of everything if your focus is on me alone...”

“I don’t want you alone if it isn’t good for you”

Coran chuckled at the pair of them

“Lance doesn’t like to be smothered, even by you. He’s very stubborn like that. I’ll check the schedule with Kolivan, he’s been forced to swallow his pride over the stalling in the search for Sendak. I’m sure if he was made aware...”

“No!”

It wasn’t a yell, but it wasn’t not a yell. More like a very heated and very solid “No way in hell”. Lance sighing softly at him, a sigh that told him they’d be having a serious talk about this later. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. Coran looking almost confusidly alarmed. Mami still watching the black blob on the screen. Keith’s gaze dropping to his feet. He didn’t want special treatment... that so ingrained in him that it made it hard to be honest

“We’re waiting. Until things settle down, we’re waiting...”

“Keith is right. It’s not like we’re not going to tell them, but for now we’re doing what’s right for us. We want to wait and grow a bit more confident over what’s happening”

This is why he had Lance. Lance translated his stupid words into something other people got. The baby might be there now, but he just... He was a feeling a lot of things he couldn’t verbalise. Excited. Proud. Shaken. Drained. Slightly horny... Proud. Worried. A lot of things. Rubbing the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb, Lance drew his gaze back to him. His boyfriend smiling at him, expression filled with love and wonder. He felt kind of chicken shit for being more scared of a baby than a vampire

“It’s okay, Babe. You don’t need to look so sad. I’m okay, and this little one is still there. Soooo, Mami, what do you think?”

Lance effortless took the attention off him and he was grateful

“I think that old Colleen has nothing with her new great-great-grandson. Not when my baby boy is going to be a father. Oh, I can’t wait to rub this in her face”

“Mami... Seriously, who knew nursing homes could be so competitive. Next you’ll be taking bets”

Mami laughed as she patted Lance’s hand. Shiro took the bait

“If we’re taking bets, I’m betting on a boy”

Lance laughed then cut himself off, moving his hand to his belly

“Oh, god. Don’t make me laugh... Coran, are you nearly done?”

“A few more clicks... Hmm... a betting pool isn’t a bad idea”

“Put me down for a girl. Call it mother’s intuition”

Shiro nodded, pulling out his phone

“We’ve got a boy from Coran. A girl from Miriam. Sorry, Miriam, I’ll side with Coran on that one... Two for a boy... Keith, what should I put you down for?”

Keith didn’t know... either would be adorable if they took after Lance...

“Don’t tease him like this. We don’t mind as long as their healthy”

“You two are no fun. Shall we say $50 to winner? Or split the pot?”

“I’ll be happy to take your money... don’t go leaving town before you pay up”

Mami was ruthless, Shiro snorting with laughter. Lance squirming again

“Guys, seriously. Not cool”

Coran apologetic as he clicked the mouse connected to the ultrasound machine

“I’m sorry, Lance... give me... okay, there we go... all done”

Lance let out a long breath of relief, starting to sit up, despite his belly still covered in gel, the moment Coran pulled the wand off

“Thank God for that... sorry, Mami... I just really need to pee”

Mami didn’t mind, she probably understood. From the movies Keith knew pregnant people seemed to need to pee a lot

“Off you go. Why don’t you take Keith with you?”

“Yes, why don’t you two have a few moments to process today’s scans while I clean up here. Off you boys go”

It felt like they’d been evicted as they headed to the locker room, Lance striding in ahead of him, leaving Keith to drag his steps so his boyfriend could have some privacy peeing. When he finally made it into the shower/toilet area, Lance had locked himself away in a cubicle, Keith wondering if it was weird as he stood outside the door

“Babe?”

“I’m all good... this lube stuff is seriously sticky”

Keith snorted. Lance didn’t love sticky things but seemed perfectly fine with it during sex

“Want help?”

“Nah... hold on”

Opening the door, Lance was rubbing at his belly with a wad of toilet paper

“See, almost all gone. God... I really needed to pee. Next time I’m waiting before drinking that water... I felt like I was going to burst when Coran pressed on my stomach”

“I’m sorry”

“What are you apologising for? You’re not the one with a bladder that decided it needed to be pea sized today”

Keith shrugged, stepping back out the way, Lance slipping past him, throwing the toilet paper in the bin before washing his hands

“I don’t know. I don’t like you being uncomfortable”

“Babe, I’m fine. Crisis adverted... How are you? You didn’t say much, but you’ve still got tears in your eyes”

“It was kind of amazing... I guess...”

His boyfriend huffed at him, crossing to close the distance between them before pulling him into a hug

“More than amazing. I’m okay and the baby is too”

“I’m sorry... it’s just... I’m still scared”

“That’s why you asked about the heartbeat. It doesn’t really feel like this ball of cells is going to be an actual person”

“I’m still scared it’s not going to be”

Lance nuzzled into his neck

“I know, but... it’s... we can still be happy, you know. I know we over think things, but Coran isn’t messing around”

“No... sounds like he did enough of that when he was younger”

Lance laughed, raising his head to shoot a brilliant smile at him

“That he did... but good news, us messing around won’t hurt this little one. Before you say it, I know you want to wait, but honestly I feel so happy right now I want to cry that I’m about to jump up”

Keith was not prepared. Lance jumping up and looping his legs around his waist had him stumbling into the closest sink. Laughing happily, Lance clang to him, Keith not even grumpy about the lack of warning as his boyfriend dived in to kiss him. Several long kisses later, Lance pulled back enough to lap at the blood beading on Keith’s lips

“I love you, Keith Kogane”

“I love you, too, Lance Bratty-Arse McClain”

Lance’s happiness was infectious. Keith grinning up at Lance, his hands supporting his boyfriend by his arse

“Good. Because you and me, we made a baby, and it honestly feels like things are looking up... like a whole baby, babe... we did that... I was so worried trying to think of what to say if today hadn’t gone well... and I know I’m getting ahead of myself...”

“Babe, shut up, I get it. You’re happy”

“Very... and cold. This place is freezing...”

Keith snorted. The shower area wasn’t that cold. Lance was being a baby

“That’s because you’re like an ice block”

“Am I at least a cute one?”

“Very... but I don’t know if I should be feeding your ego. 6 weeks is still really early”

“Mhmm... but for now, can we just be kind of really in awe...”

“Can I be shocked? I’m still really fucking shocked”

Lance laughed at him. God. He felt like it’d been too long since Lance was jumping into his arms happily

“I am too. I don’t know why I decided to leap up on you, but I feel really good that this little one is okay. Should I get down?”

“Nah, you’re fine... I feel like you haven’t been smiling much lately”

“I feel like I didn’t have as much to smile about... just wait until the embarrassment kicks in...”

“For jumping on me?”

“For letting myself be happy. Are you happy? Are you okay? I’ve been all about me and today hit you hard”

“I’ve been... better... but I feel better knowing the scan was good”

“That’s good. You always stress so much. You’re going to get wrinkles way too young”

The way Lance pout at him made him want to kiss him all over again. Which was playing with fire... Once the relief had worn off, and he was back to feeling himself, he’d have to reassess how he felt over being intimate

“And you’re a brat. What happened to the 45 year old dressed in seven layers?”

“Coran heated the office. Rose my core temperature... but you’ll snuggle with at home, keep me warm, right?”

“Depends. You were fucking freezing when you came back to bed”

“Mmm, but you were nice and warm... Wanna go home and watch the scan again? The two of us? Pidge wants me to call again, but right now that’s what I want to do...”

That sounded nice

“Sure... provided you behave long enough to get home”

“I always behave. It’s the snow that’s out to get me, not the other way around”

“Right... I’m pretty sure snow is older than your old arse”

Keith regretted the words as soon as he saw Lance’s face fell. His boyfriend climbing out of his arms to wrap his arms around his waist in a self hug

“Babe... I was joking”

“But that’s the thing... maybe I am too old? And what do we tell them when they notice I don’t age? I’m old... like way older than you... you could be happier with...”

Nope. Grabbing Lance, Keith pulled him back

“I shouldn’t have said it like that. I like you, and you’re not that old”

Lance raised his right hand to rub at his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his glasses today. His boyfriend really wanted to see the scan clearly

“I’m 45... most people have kids your age... and... I know you were joking. I do... but it’s something I’ve been thinking about. Fuck. Here I was lecturing you and now I’m... I’m sorry”

“It bothers you a lot, doesn’t it?”

He’d been careful with the grey hair jokes because he knew Lance still held a lot of sensitivity over them... Making a mental joke, he was going to have to avoid age jokes all together for now

“Yeah... I was trying not to think about it... but like, I don’t get older... and I hate it so much... I know you’re okay with it, but it’s something I’m not okay with... throw it in with my body changing and it’s... yeah... Sorry. Can we go home now?”

The change in Lance just about gave him whiplash

“You know I don’t care about that... You’re still you”

Lance hardly acted his age, unless he needed to. He was so full of love and life... Keith liked the man inside the body... though the body was pretty smoking hot

“I do... I mean. I know. It hit me again out of nowhere... I think... maybe I’m going to have some problems with it until I settle down. I’m like so relieved they’re okay that it’s not even funny”

“Me too. Do you want to get anything on the way home?”

“Nah... I just... I just want to watch the scan alone with you... I love Mami and I love Shiro and Coran, but I want to watch you watch it again...”

“Why? What did I do?”

“You were crying but you were smiling... I really love it when you smile”

Keith’s heart went funny as he ducked his head. Only Lance could make him feel like this... and feel braver about that letter

“When we get home, there’s something I want... I need you to see with me”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’ve left it long enough”

“Alright, Mullet. Let’s go... I feel pretty rude leaving but I need some alone time with you right now”

Mami had come for the scan and sure, Keith liked her, but Lance and their baby came first. Besides, the scan was over... He wasn’t letting Lance go out in this weather on those slippery roads. His heart had enough trouble letting Shiro drive around

“Yeah. Funnily enough I do to”

#oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #ashratherose

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fly-pow-bye · 4 years

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DuckTales 2017 - “Quack Pack!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Bob Snow

Storyboard by: Vince Aparo, Kristen Gish

Directed by: Tanner Johnson

TGIHD. Thank God It’s Hump Day.

Our episode begins with Huey preparing his Uncle Donald for his big family photo opportunity, an opportunity he never seems to have due to various mishaps. He hired a professional photographer, and even had him practice his million dollar smile. Huey says that nothing is going to stop this day from being ruined, and then Dewey, the one-liner-spewing stand-out sibling, shows up. We know he's the stand-out because the laugh track cheers as soon as he comes in. Yes, a laugh track, just like this series always had.

Some other characters show up, mostly to reintroduce them to the audience. We have Louie, the schemer who is currently trying make his mother jump off the roof and get people to pay to see it. Said mother is Della, a former moon-dweller who is perfectly fine with because she used to be on the moon, and will seemingly bring that up with almost every line of dialogue she has. Finally, we have Scrooge, the relatively down-to-Earth, no pun intended, person who knows this is ridiculous, though he does ponder if he can make a lot of money from that dangerous stunt before saying "no".

Instead, they have to get the study ready for the photo, something Scrooge promised he would have done already. Though he tells Donald that he would never break a family promise, the sweat he's wiping off his brow is telling a different story. He, Della, and Louie slowly back away into the office, and nobody is the wiser. Oh Scrooge, I’m sure he has some money related reason for it.

As they back away into the office, we get two more stand-out characters: Mrs. Beakley, who constantly has to deny being a spy despite coming in through one of those wires on the roof, and Webby, who introduces her grandmother as a professional spy. She's the quirky one!

At this point, Huey starts to think that something is very off with everything around him, and asks his Uncle Donald if he feels the same way. Donald turns to Huey, and responds in the familiar way we all know and love.

Donald: (clears throat) Well, everything seems perfectly normal to me!

Ah, Donald, with his distinctive voice by Don Cheadle; perfectly normal, and yet suave enough to make the laugh track cheer. See, everything is normal, from the way Donald Duck talks, to the laugh track laughing at even Dewey's cheesy one-liners, to the 90's TGIF sitcom-like establishing shot this scene started with. Nothing wrong at all...except for everything.

Yeah, if this is the first episode of DuckTales 2017 somebody watched, they're going to be very lost. I mean, people are saying this is an adventure show where they go all around the world, using their wits to fight criminals, monsters, and aliens, but this is a sitcom with a laugh track! There are some ways people could figure it out already, namely that cartoons would never use laugh tracks unironically, but it's good that this originally aired right after a normal episode.

After a really short version of the usual theme song that consists solely of "DuckTales, woo-oo" and a commercial break, we get the theme song showing off the cast of characters. This includes Launchpad McQuack, who even has his own rock band, the Crash Happies. In we end, we get our title screen: Quack Pack. Yes, this is what the show's called now, taking the name from the infamous DuckTales spinoff where they decided to age up Huey Dewey and Louie to teenagers.

Outside of the title and a very similar pose for the title shot, it doesn't take anything from that show, just the 90's sitcoms it was trying to ape. Huey, Dewey, and Louie are still kids, and the plot for this episode is kind of pedestrian compared to the teenaged siblings turning into superheroes and battling a planet-sized Uncle D who just wants them to clean their rooms while his rage makes him destroy the galaxy. Even the theme song is just instrumental soft rock. It is possible they felt lines like "I feel like quacking, so I think I will, I'm gonna quack quack quack until I get my fill" are too cheesy even for a parody.

As our episode truly begins, we meet another soon-to-be-beloved character, and one that isn't one of the familiar ones: Knox Quackington, that photographer Huey hired. He's an artiste, as described by Huey and himself, and he has the accent for the kind of stereotype that term was made for. Unfortunately for him, he describes himself as someone who uncovers the world's secrets, and Webby knows that could only mean he's a spy. That quirky character ends up taking him to a dark room, where she beats him up. Oh, Webby!

While this is happening, Scrooge decides to try to ready up that study.

Unfortunately, the study is in even worse shape than he imagined. Scrooge didn't want to pay for actual repairmen to fix his problems, and the problems just got worse and worse. I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere. Louie responds that Scrooge's lack of responsibility legally makes him liable for his own lack of responsibility. He didn't really change much at all for this sitcom plot, huh.

Huey and Donald show up to see Scrooge's study in ruins, and Donald explains why he can't just go to a different room: this is the only room where the buttons glint in the way he wanted! Louie says, with sarcasm, that the button glint issue is so much more of an unsolvable problem than a broken room, and everyone just makes an "oh, Louie" pose as they pause for the laugh track. Huey is a bit more optimistic, as he happens to have a Junior Woodchuck Guidebook...

...a Guidebook that is completely blank. Donald speaking like a regular duck and the blank book makes him notice that the mysterious laughter that happens constantly doesn't seem to be coming from anyone in the room, and realizes something is very, very wrong. He runs out of the room as everyone else makes an "oh, Huey" pose as they pause for the laugh track.

This episode definitely gets the sitcom parody down to a T. They even have transitions where they're just dancing or flicking hearts from their smartphones. It reminds me of That 70's Show, and I don't watch enough sitcoms to know if there's an earlier example than that.

Distracting us from Huey slowly figuring out what's going on is Dewey doing what he does best: giving himself and Donald mohawks. Oh, that rascal, that's going to be a real problem for the photo op. Huey shows up only to see that they paused in place, because it's time for a commercial break. Of course, Huey is the only one aware enough to realize everything is getting darker. Plot important forth-wall jokes is this episodes forte.

After all the real commercials, because it would have been a missed opportunity if they didn't do a real commercial break there, we get a commercial for the fictional Pep, featuring a guy who's clearly played by the same actor as the photographer. If Disney XD didn't require "now back to the show" bumpers, this would have caught people a little off-guard. This ad specifically features him opening up a can of pep, causing a tidal wave of Pep. This actually becomes important later, though I won't go into detail.

We then cut to the channel ID, which is exactly like the old and current Disney Channel channel IDs. The big difference is instead to drawing Mickey ears, Dewey, the lovable breakout character everyone loves, is drawing a lamp. It's the kind of lamp that would hold some sort of djinn, and not the djinn that looks for found lamps, either! Also, it's the Baba network...hey, just like that Baba guy the show is now credited to! Hmm...

Huey, of course, managed to notice all of this, and he runs back to the study after Donald tries to convince him to get some rest. Meanwhile, Mr. Quackington is all tied up by Webby, thinking he is some sort of suspicious special agent, and has Launchpad keep an eye on him. This leads to Launchpad and his band thinking he's a different kind of agent. Those are all about as far as they get with those plots, to be honest; it mostly focuses on Huey's plight and a plot with a certain other character that will appear in a few more paragraphs from now.

Huey's plight is about why he's in this strange realm where people are constantly laughing at him. He then sees tiny versions of Randy and Johnny from the Ottoman Empire. No, I'm not going to do the joke this time. That's in the past, much like 3 tiered rating systems. Huey figures out that is is an ad, and the dominoes just drop from there as he realizes the guidebook he was holding was a prop, the room doesn't actually have any pipes, and one of the doors just leads to a brick wall.

Nobody is convinced, and they're just thinking he's going coo-coo. However, he does have a fool-proof plan: point to the fourth wall, which they only now notice is missing.

They see some lights and some strange creatures that look sort of like those hairless apes Ludwig Von Drake was warning us about, but that can't be it! This is definite proof, and they all take it. Glad they won't take the entire episode to realize this.

Meanwhile, Donald shaves off the mohawk, only for him to have a bald spot. What's only slightly better is that Webby, who wants a meat tenderizer for some "cute girl stuff", still doesn't want to tell Donald where the photographer went. What else could go wrong?, says Donald, clearly signalling for something to go wrong. Though, if anything, something is going to go very right for us, because what would a sitcom be without a guest star?

Appearing for the first time in DuckTales is Goofy. This is heavily based on the Goofy from Goof Troop and A Goofy Movie, even wearing the same outfit and making the same pose he does in the former's intro a few seconds later. Donald doesn't seem to think too highly of him, though, and the way he "borrows" some ketchup by squirting it into what I hope is his pocket is not helping matters. Nonetheless, his appearance is just like one would imagine an appearance of Goofy would be like in DuckTales.

He does fit into the photography plot pretty well, as his job in this appearance is a photographer, but I'm more willing to focus on how Goofy is also someone who notices a change in Donald. Maybe it might be something else, but I'd like to think that Goofy is more familiar with Donald's usual voice. As in, he's a real person and not just a construct of whatever this is. There's hints of this throughout the episode, and we did get to see Roxanne and Powerline before, so it's not that much of a stretch.

It doesn't take long for the A plot of Huey dealing with this strange realm he's in and the B plot of the kidnapped photographer to crash into each other. I mean that literally, too, as Team Believes They're In A TV Show collides with Team Gotta Impress The Agent as the floor of the study collapses right into the room the photographer was kept in.

Slowly but surely, Huey convinces the rest of the people that something is wrong by simply saying that they should be going on an adventure. This is supposed to be an adventure series with an adventurer, and the biggest adventurer of them all, Scrooge McDuck, realizes it, too. However, he has no idea what would happen to get them into this realm.

Dewey: If only I could remember... (scratches his chin)

Everyone notices the world around them swirl around, and they panic until it stops. Huey tells them that this is a flashback, and they could use this power to try to figure out how they got into this mess in the first place.

At this point, Donald is the only one that thinks trying to get out of this world is just a waste of time, even stating that they should get back to the plot, er, photo. Yes, in that way. At this point, it was pretty obvious who is the culprit, but this scene in particular reveals a different co-culprit.

Finally, we get to see what was really happening: during an adventure to find the lost lamp of Collie Baba, they were stuck in a trap involving a ton of scorpions. Donald, in the barely comprehensible voice we all know and remember, decides to wish to himself that he would have normal family problems.

Donald's actions in this episode do make sense. Even though one of the main reasons why Donald Duck gave up on adventuring has been resolved, one cannot help that Donald just wants to be with his family, doing family things, and not getting into adventures that may risk his and his nephew's lives. I'd imagine being kidnapped by Moonlanders would do that to a guy.

After they get out of the flashback, they notice that the photographer is slowly trying to leave the room, and everyone knows at this point that this guy is not who he says he is. I mean, we got to see him quite clearly in that flashback.

The photographer is revealed to be Gene the Genie. We managed to get two rebooted characters out of Treasure of the Lost Lamp, and somehow they're completely separate from each other. He's here to make his master's wishes come true, and that master happens to be Donald. Donald still has two more wishes, and he could use his second to undo the first. One problem: he loves it here.

We also learn the reason why this show is dated: he hasn't been out of the lamp since 1990. This is another nod to Treasure of the Lost Lamp, as that was its release year. Goof Troop was a few years after that year, but I'll let that pass. What I might not let pass is the sheer amount of internet references, something that wasn't too widespread in 1990. Huey sure wouldn't have his emoji hat, also. Maybe their modern technology combined with Gene's sitcom world, but I felt that was a little missed opportunity to see some time-related shock.

Anachronisms aside, I have to mention this particular scene when the siblings ask how long they're going to stay in this realm if Donald decides against ever letting them out.

Gene: Probably at least three seasons, plus spinoffs. And I assume they'll reboot the show eventually!

It's pretty obvious why that line stood out. He really must be stuck in the past; most reboots are softer and rounder nowadays. I'd say more, but I'm trying not to fill that "YOU-KNOW-WHAT potshot" jar.

They want to go home, forget the three seasons, the spinoffs, and the dark and gritty reboots. Not speaking of softer in any sense of the word, that line does not go too well for those fourth wall dwellers...

...and we get our answer to how the ducks would react to hairless apes in the same universe as they are. Granted, when they're all grinning these horrifying open mouthed grins, it would make even people in this universe shudder. I know I am!

We get this big scene where they beat up the humans while they wait for Donald to come to his senses and wish them out of here. I'm not going to describe this scene in detail because there's just so much here. The mentioning of different episodes, the realm trying to fix itself, and a big rotation scene, pictured, that was put to good use in the trailers.

Another line in particular that stood out for me: Louie says that the episode where his pet snake gets loose isn't a well written plot. Gene tells him everyone's a critic. I can't help but feel that one.

I will mention that we do get to see Goofy have a parent-to-uncle talk with Donald, and, yes, this leads to even more for the Goof Troop/A Goofy Movie fans. This is a very pivotal moment in the plot, and it's all because of the guest star. Honestly, even if they're trying to get out of the sitcom, that is a very sitcom thing to do!

It shouldn't be much of a spoiler to reveal that they do manage to get out of the sitcom universe. We got a F.O.W.L. plotline to get to. How exactly do they do it? Does Donald get his two other wishes? Go watch the episode and find out for yourself, but I'll say that it is satisfying.

How does it stack up?

This is a very interesting and very funny episode. Purists may be a little upset by this episode focusing more on mimicking the 90's than take any inspiration from the comics, but this is a good tribute to the era. It all hold up together, and I enjoyed every minute of it. Fantastic episode, 5 Scrooges.

Next, we finally get to that F.O.W.L. plot, not so oddly enough!

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#fpb dt 2017 #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #fpb reviews #disney

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avengerofiron · 3 years

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the people who built me || danny & tony

summary: tony has a choice to make when he encounters iron fist during an enforcer patrol. he chooses family. (solo incoming when lola gets time about The Consequences TM - sorry tony)

when: a few days before the siege

word count: 10,094 (we thought we were brief. we were not.)

trigger warnings: torture mention, abuse mention, death mentions

featuring: danny rand

TONY: Everyone made mistakes. It was a fundamental part of life — a fundamental part of science — to do something once, find out where you went wrong, and improve on it for the next situation that came your way. That innovation was what Tony lived for, what he breathed every single day in Stark Industries or as he acted as Iron Man. It was innovation that other people boasted about, too, until the point where mistakes became too much for them to simply brush off, when mistakes were too large to sweep under the rug, that’s when things got dicey.

Tony Stark had a habit of making things dicey.

The Sentinels weren’t his doing, though. For once, he wasn’t the guy in the room to create the targeting system, or the artificial intelligence, or even the giant, maniacal robots designed for one purpose and one purpose alone. These robots were created by men before Tony was even born, years before most kids would remember their first appearance on the scene just after the events went down in Cuba.

Their design needed a little work. Tony could say that with certainty. Their morality needed a complete overhaul, and if Tony could see that, if he could spot it a mile off with no hesitation, he didn’t see how they were going to spin it to make the public agree — but they did. They did, even if Ross stepped into every meeting with a face that looked like he’d been chewing on a wasp because his ass had been well and truly handed to him by the World Security Council. . Security. Sometimes it came at the cost of what really mattered in life. Sometimes, in the process of making a better world, you destroyed the old one that was perfect in its own unique way. Sometimes, people needed a little bad to make the good worth it.

Tony was still learning that. Of course, it was a little hard to learn with Ross breathing down his neck, the warning lingering on the horizon of every decision he made or didn’t make in the field.

He couldn’t afford to mess up. He couldn’t afford to make a dicey mistake, couldn’t afford to pull a Tony Stark.

Inevitably, that was exactly what would happen.

The Sentinels tracking system picked up an anomaly that wasn’t significant enough to investigate, but enough to suggest that something not entirely above board was going down in Hell’s Kitchen. Someone had latent powers they were aware not to use was one of the suggestions thrown around the meeting room. Others said it could be a fault with the system. Either way it needed checking out, and enforcement agents had been put on clean up duty while the robots handled the real, perceptible threats that they didn’t need to negotiate with. . Not just enforcement agents — Tony, specifically. Iron Man, glorified janitor, delegated to the bottom of the pile for the past month because he dared not to disclose some minorly crucial facts to his employers.

Bastards.

“You’ve reached the point of the fluctuation, boss,” FRIDAY informed him through the helmet’s sound system. “So far I’m picking up a single heat signature other than your own.”

“Tell me it isn’t burning up,” Tony replied. “I’ve had enough of fire people for one lifetime.”

“I wasn’t with you during that one, boss. Must’ve been the other computer.”

“Must’ve been.”

“The temperature signal appears human. They’re moving slowly — no adrenaline spike as of yet. I would suggest landing before things get nasty.”

“When have you ever known my missions to get nasty?” Tony asked. FRIDAY remained conspicuously silent, but her presence was noted. Tony could almost imagine her rolling her eyes. “Alright, darling. Let’s get this show on the road.” . He landed on the pavement in the alleyway, hand up and palm glowing. “Hi there,” he announced, voice robotic but not nearly as warped as he would like it to be. (Doing things you fundamentally disagreed with was easier when you were wearing a mask, he had found — Iron Man had always been more of his true self than Tony Stark, billionaire playboy.) “I’m Iron Man, you’re in breach of the Sokovia Accords, and we’re going to need to have a little chat. If you don’t mind, come easily and this’ll all be—”

The figure turned. The way he moved was as familiar as someone stepping around Tony’s kitchen counter, or pulling Tali over on the couch onto his knee, or messing around with Colleen in the gym, clearly holding back while Tony was watching because Tony didn’t know, couldn’t know, the truth.

The truth that was staring him in the face now.

He was wearing a mask, of course. Even Danny wasn’t trusting enough to know that running around with his own face in New York City in the current climate would result in anything but trouble. Tony still knew him, though. He knew him when he was a kid, chasing after him at galas. He knew him as a man, talking about a plane falling from the sky and snow surrounding him. He knew him as a cousin, broaching a subject, a word, Tony had always dodged, backing off the second Tony didn’t bite.

(Sometimes he wondered what would’ve happened if he did. If he gave Danny the truth in that moment, if he opened himself up, if he admitted something to both of them that he’d been carrying since he was fifteen years old. Sometimes he wondered, but not tonight. He was a little preoccupied.)

The man in the mask, the man on the Sentinels’ system, the man on FRIDAY’s tracker, the man he was sent to arrest …

It was Danny Rand.

DANNY: Over the last few years, Danny had had a few very close calls in his life of vigilantism. He’d been stabbed (multiple times now), shot (though only by Harold), kidnapped (also multiple times, which was worrying), maimed… The list went on and on. He had plenty of personal experiences to tell him just how dangerous this life was, plenty of scars and near-death moments to inform him just what he was risking every time he pulled that bandanna over his face.

He’d only recently come to consider the law to be one of those potential consequences.

Danny had never been arrested before. He’d certainly come close a few times in his early days back in the city, when his heart beat too quickly in his chest and he swung his fists at anyone who looked at him too closely, but he’d never seen the backseat of a patrol car. Thanks to Harold’s meddling, he’d even found himself on a federal watchlist for a moment or so, but Jeri took care of it before it could lead anywhere substantial. The closest Danny had come to prison was his forced stay in Birch, an experience he desperately wanted to avoid repeating.

If he were smart, he supposed, he might have scaled back the vigilantism to prevent an arrest. It was what Ward had advised him to do, on more than one occasion. Money can do a lot of things, Danny, he’d warned, but this isn’t one of them. If they catch you, they will send you to the Raft. Not some nice prison for tax evaders, the fucking Raft. And he was right. Danny knew he was right, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to hang up his worn hoodie and yellow bandana. Every time he tried, Ward’s voice was drowned out by a thousand others.

Protect my city. Matt, who hadn’t died for him but almost did, who’d trusted him to save a city he hadn’t even managed to stay in.

Danny Rand failed an entire city. The place he was sworn to protect. Sowande, who had been cruel and ruthless and right. . You should never have borne the Fist. Davos, angry and bitter and hitting the nail on the head every time. Danny had power, and he didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t earned it. Not really, not in the ways that counted. If he did nothing with it, if he failed New York the way he’d failed K’un Lun, what was the point of him? What did any of the sacrifices made to get him where he was mean?

So he didn’t stop. He kept fighting, kept roaming the streets with his Fist glowing as if there weren’t robots out to drag him in and enforcers less understanding than Colleen looking for a high profile collar. Because he needed to make amends. (Because he didn’t know how to stop.)

Tonight had been quiet. He hadn’t seen any sentinels, hadn’t run into any enforcers. He’d barely even seen any crime, only taking out one mugger by well into the morning hours. He probably should have been glad for it, but his skin itched and his chest was tight and he wanted to hit something. When he heard a quiet tang of something unmistakably metallic landing behind him, he was almost relieved. Finally, finally, a chance to let out some of that pent up rage on something he didn’t have to feel guilty for breaking.

But then he turned around, and the world tilted on its axis.

Everyone knew who wore the Iron Man suit, but even if he hadn’t there was no mistaking Tony’s voice beneath the modulated tones. Danny had been following Tony Stark around since he was a little kid, been clinging to his pant legs since he could walk. The fifteen-year gap in their relationship amounted to surprisingly little when he crashed on Tony’s couch as often as he did as an adult. Tony was there in good moments and bad, there on Christmas and in hospital rooms, at family dinners and in the moments when he couldn’t scrape himself off the floor. Tony had been there for all of that, and now, he was here for this.

And Danny froze. . Tony was frozen too, and though Danny couldn’t see his face, he had a feeling the wide-eyed expression beneath Iron Man’s mask was a pretty close match to the one he wore on his own face right now. Uncertainly, Danny shifted. Half of him wanted to walk towards Tony while the other half screamed at him to move away. He didn’t know which half was right. Maybe neither of them was.

“Hi,” he said experimentally, as if checking to see if his voice still worked. “I don’t… Uh, I can’t go to jail.” He bit his lip, barely stopped himself from adding, ’Please, Tony,’ because if Tony didn’t know who he was now, there would be no hiding it after something like that.

TONY: At least Batman roamed the rooftops of Gotham with a voice modulator. At least Daredevil pulled off that dark, mysterious, brooding, silent vigilante type. At least for the few weeks Tony himself managed to keep an alter ego on the down low, he wore a mask that covered the entirety of his face, his whole squishy human body, and his multitude of self worth issues all in one handy package. Danny was out here in a hoodie that wouldn’t have been out of place in Rhodey’s grungy backpack in MIT and a bandana that was riding up on his entirely too familiar nose, his voice breaking through in a weak attempt at a different pitch that Tony could see through in an instant, because he wasn’t a moron.

He was a genius, a fact that he often lamented over, and a genius who loved Danny Rand, at that.

Christ, it was looking at his own heart staring back at him, wide eyed and about to bolt, feet two seconds away from running down the alleyway and never looking back. Tony could catch him, of course. The suit could catch a rocket, if it wanted — but the question was whether he wanted to. The question was whether he wanted to see for himself, up close and personal, what Danny learned in the years he was gone, what knowledge he shared with Colleen that made the woman utterly terrifying. The question was whether Tony was willing to put someone else he loved in cuffs while the man he’d asked to marry him remained on the run, being fed intelligence from Stark systems, being told that if it came down to it, Tony would make the hard choice because it was the right one. . Making the right choice always seemed so difficult. Tony told himself that he needed compasses, like Steve or Sharon or Jarvis, Yinsen or Rhodes or Rumiko (not all of them were good compasses, but that was beside the fact), in order to make them. He told himself that he didn’t know the difference between wrong and right, because when he looked back at his extensive list of personal defects and lifelong tendency towards making mistakes, he figured that was proof of some void in his chest that other people had filled, something his parents failed to cultivate or he burned away with liquor.

But he knew, now. He knew it as much as he knew when Steve looked at him he’d burn down the world to put things right. He knew when he looked at Danny, he could never put cuffs around his wrist. he could never let anyone touch a hair on the kid’s goddamn head, and he wasn’t a kid anymore, Tony knew that, but he was. He always would be.

Tony lost him once before. He wasn’t losing him again, not by choice, not like this.

Of course, of all the words Tony could have chosen to put that sentiment into the universe, he went with something completely …

Well, completely Tony.

“Yeah,” he said, helmet retracting quickly. “No shit you can’t go to jail.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY interjected, “perhaps we should shut off the Panel communication servers-”

Tony clicked one of the panels on the suit’s arm, and FRIDAY faded into nothingness — along with Ross’ feed to this conversation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony demanded, taking a step forward. “Do you just think you can go around the city in … in not even spandex. You’re in less than spandex. You look like you raided a Goodwill and then they kicked you out because you were making the babies cry. I … I do everything I can to try and stop you from getting into shit, Da— Iron Fist, and you and all the, uh … the other ones, you all keep doing this!”

DANNY: Surprisingly, this wasn’t actually a situation Danny had been in before. When he first returned from K’un Lun, he had seen no reason to lie to people about where he had been and what had been done to him. He told the Meachums everything, didn’t understand why they didn’t believe him immediately because it was real. He knew it was real, had the scars and the nightmares to prove it. He told Colleen who, while more receptive, still spent the first few hours of their acquaintanceship looking at him like a bomb about to go off. He told the doctors at Birch, positive that they would understand what he was saying and let him go, so sure that it would reinforce his sanity. He told anyone who would listen about the Fist, and everyone looked at him like something inside of him was broken. Like it was some wild story invented by a child’s mind in order to avoid accepting the truth.

Danny had never wanted Tony to look at him like that. He’d looked up to Ward as a kid, sure, but back then, Tony had been his hero. He’d wanted, so badly, to do everything Tony Stark did. He remembered saying as much to his mother one night as she was putting him to bed, remembered barely stopping for air as he launched into an elaborate retelling of what he’d done at the Starks’ that day, adding animated hand gestures to the conversation as he went on and on about Tony’s games that only he really knew all the rules to and the way he was never angry when Danny and Sharon made up their own rules on top of them, the way the three of them laughed and played and no one flipped the gameboard over when they were losing the way Ward always did and no one cried like Joy used to. The Meachums were family, but that had always been more because of Harold than the children. The Carters and the Starks were family because of Tony and Sharon. Because of Danny.

And now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be the reason they stopped being family, too. . He didn’t think Tony would arrest him. Not if he knew it was him, not if he recognized the eyes staring back at him. On a logical level, Danny knew that Tony never put him in cuffs, never take him to the Raft. But old paranoia told him he was assuming too much, old anxiety clawed at his gut and demanded to be free. Ward had put him in a mental institution, had paid people to hurt him while he was there. Harold had traded him to the Hand, had pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. Joy had hired someone to kidnap him, knowing he might not survive the experience. Davos had cut into him, bled him out over a clay pot, shattered every fucking bone in his leg twice for good measure. Danny loved his family, he really did. But he had a lot of bad experiences with trust, a lot of scars he could have avoided if, for a moment, he had loved less.

Tony Stark was not Ward Meachum. Danny knew that. Tony never would have hired guards to chase him down the street with guns in hand because he was afraid of losing money, wouldn’t have hurt him over and over and over again to save his own reputation. Tony wasn’t Joy or Davos, either, and he certainly wasn’t Harold. Tony was a good man who loved Danny, who had always treated him like a person instead of a billionaire, who had let him be a kid when no one else seemed interested in doing so. The Carters and the Starks and the Rands, they were a different kind of family than he’d had with Harold and Joy and Ward. They were less cutthroat, less money-hungry. Sharon and Tony had never wanted anything from him except for him to be himself. Danny knew that. . But that old paranoia still hovered for a moment as he and Tony stared at each other, both still as they assessed the situation. Danny stood lightly on the balls of his feet, ready to bolt if he needed to, as if it would make a difference. He couldn’t outrun Tony when he was wearing the suit, and even the intimate knowledge he’d gained over the last few years of vigilantism wouldn’t help him much against Iron Man. He was pretty sure Tony had some kind of x-ray vision in that thing, so hiding in a dumpster would only end up embarrassing him.

Danny didn’t realize he’d been holding a breath until Tony spoke and he let it out, a quiet exhale as a wave of relief hit him so hard it threatened to knock him off his feet. Tony didn’t sound like Iron Man, enforcer of the Accords right now. He sounded like Tony Stark, exasperated older cousin getting ready to gear up for a pretty intense lecture. . Tony did something with his arm that Danny thought might mean the higher-ups couldn’t eavesdrop anymore, and Danny’s shoulders relaxed just a little. He still carried some tension in his shoulders as Tony launched into his lecture, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t getting arrested for the moment. It allowed him to relax enough to look mildly offended, if nothing else. “Hey,” he said, “Je --- uh, my friend said spandex is lame. And this is comfortable! I need to be comfortable.” Not that the outfit was the point, but it was the principle of the thing, wasn’t it? He had to defend his style choices. “Look, you’re mad. I know you’re mad. Can I just --- I can explain. Okay? It’s just, uh, it’s a really long story, and I ---” He broke off for a moment, searching for words momentarily before continuing, “I punched a dragon! And now I’ve got --- I’ve got control over my chi, and I --- A building fell on Daredevil! And he told me, he said, ’Protect my city,’” his voice got momentarily deeper in a poor imitation of Matt, “and I couldn’t say no, because he was gone! And then --- And then my brother did a sacred ritual on me and I broke my leg and went to China, which you knew that part because of course you would have noticed that I was in China, right? And now I’m back! And, um, yeah. That’s it.”

It was an utterly nonsensical explanation, a series of stories strung together that, from the outside, seemed completely unrelated. Danny had never been the best at setting the record straight, especially not under pressure. Tony knew that, of course.

TONY: He wasn’t his father. Tony had never been his father, and recently, he’d stopped feeling inferior about that fact and started feeling grateful. He rarely gave over to anger. His rage, when it was prompted, came relatively smoothly. It built in him, gathered in his chest, curled around in his mind until he found the way most appropriate to put it to good use. There were rare occasions when Tony lost his cool, at least in that regard.

This was one of those rare occasions.

He was pissed. He was pissed off, and he was angry, and he was every word that he could think of to describe the rising heat on the back of his neck, the way his hands balled into fists. Any other man in a metal suit would use the mask to its fullest potential at this moment and hide his weakness. Tony had never been good at covering the emotions on his sleeve, not when it came to enemies, not when it came to strangers, or the press. Definitely not when it came to family.

He was angry, but he was terrified, too. His throat felt tight as he spoke, his voice raising but not nearly strong enough to have any kind of weight behind it.

“You know I’m mad?” Tony repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You know I’m mad? Are you fucking joking me?” Danny stopped talking, and Tony held up a hand. “Listen, this is the moment where you zip it, alright? This is the point where you stop talking, because I have a lot of things to say to you, and you just—”

Danny kept. On. Talking.

(Jesus, that ran in the family.) . The words that were coming out of Danny’s mouth were quick and panicked, and suddenly Tony was having flashbacks to when Danny was nine years old. Sharon assisted in the breaking of one of Tony’s vases, entirely accidentally, and Danny had a hundred and one excuses for Tony, not one of which included any form of a lie. At that stage, the kid had been utterly incapable of keeping a single detail from Tony. Secrets weren’t something that existed between the three of them.

Except they had. Except every time Sharon and Danny walked into his house in Malibu, Tony had to clean up weeks of evidence of his real life, the life he led on a daily basis. He had to hide the people he spent time with, the things he wasted time on, the things that kids didn’t want to see and he would die before he admitted to, because they, for God knows what reason, looked up to him. Cared for him. Loved him.

Danny was talking fast, and he’d never lied to Tony before except for when he had, but when he said dragon Tony couldn’t find even a piece of his heart that doubted the validity of what he was saying. “A building fell on Daredevil because he chases that,” Tony interjected, before Danny could go any further. “I don’t know the guy as anything other than a dot on my threat analysis, but come on. He goes out in a mask and he tries to make a difference, and that’s honourable and heroic and all of those things, but it’s also fucking stupid.” . What Iron Fist was doing was stupid. FRIDAY was in his ear reminding Tony that he was stupid, that there was a timer on this conversation and Ross would realise before long that Tony had tapped out, and that only spelled trouble when Tony was already on the shitlist …

“This life,” Tony said, taking another step forward, gesturing at Danny’s gear, “this life only ends one way. It ends with you in the ground. It ends with someone taking joy in putting you there. And that’s … I do this because I killed people. I killed innocent people for decades. I killed people, and I need to make up for that but Christ, you …”

Tony sucked in a breath, and all pretence went out the window.

“You had ten years.” He was yelling. No, yelling would be easier — he was trying to scream, but the words were barely coming out. “You were ten years old and you were dead. You were dead and that damn near killed all of us, you know that? You ever wonder why Sharon’s mom worries more than is even close to normal about her coming home in a box? You ever wonder why I … I was in a cave and I was seeing so much shit, and they were going to kill me and I saw you. I saw you and you weren’t even dead. You weren’t. You were alive the whole damn time.”

Tony stepped back, then, heart beat pounding loud in his ears. “You can’t do that to us again.” He said it the same way Pepper had, pushing herself out of bed, shooting him a glare on the way down to the couch. He said it like there was no other solution, like Danny would stop or he wouldn’t, and Tony would be able to walk away — but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even be able to stop himself if Danny asked him to. “If it wasn’t me,” he continued, “if it wasn’t me here, tonight, things would be different. You know that, right?”

DANNY: There were days when Tony reminded him so much of Ward that Danny ached with it, moments when his cousin got a look on his face and it felt like Danny was looking at his brother instead. This moment, with Tony clearly and understandably angry and Danny standing in front of him with some dangerous stunt only faintly in the rearview mirror, was one of them. Danny couldn’t help but think back to the thousand and one times he’d had this conversation before. In Ward’s office, when he and Danny were slowly making their way back towards being brothers. On his couch, bloodied and beaten, with Ward quietly trying to pretend not to be terrified. On the runway of a private airport, Ward threatening to lay down in front of a plane to keep Danny from going off on his own.

He’d had the conversation with other people too, of course. Colleen, who waited up until he stumbled home at five in the morning with bruised knuckles and blood on his hands, who asked him quietly how many times he’d lit up the Fist, how many hours of sleep he was running on. Claire, who told him how terrified she was that his obsession with being something he wasn’t would take away everything good about what he was. Jessica, Matt, Luke, Misty… Danny had people who loved him, people who knew what he did and tried desperately to convince him to do it in a way that wouldn’t kill him in the end. And Danny wished he knew how to do it for them. He wished he knew how to be the sort of man who might get a happy ending, the sort of man who could die peacefully of old age someday instead of the sort destined to bleed out in a back alley gasping and wheezing and waiting for help that would never come. He wanted to be that person for them, but he couldn’t. Most days, he still wasn’t confident he knew how to be a person at all. . Tony was talking to him as if he was one. Tony was talking to him like he was a child, perhaps, but he was talking to him as if he was a person all the same, like he was more than a weapon, and Danny had to remind himself that that meant something. He opened his mouth to say more, to dig his grave a little deeper, but Tony told him to be quiet and Danny had always wanted to do pretty much anything Tony told him to do.

It was Tony’s turn to talk now, Tony’s turn to talk about how buildings didn’t typically fall on men who didn’t run into them when they were already shaking, and Danny winced just a little. “A building fell on Daredevil because I ---” He cut himself off, taking a deep, shuddering breath. How much should he reveal here? How much did he tell Tony about the things Iron Fist had been a part of, the things that happened because of him. As far as the police knew, Iron Fist had been nowhere near Midland Circle. Danny Rand’s involvement in the collapse had been swiftly covered up by Ward, who made a hefty donation and requested that his brother’s trauma not be capitalized on to a very receptive commissioner with a very big check. Danny could tell Tony, right in this moment, that it wasn’t Daredevil’s stupidity that dropped a building on his head --- it was Danny’s. He wondered if that would change Tony’s perspective or make him angrier. . “I know how this ends,” he said instead, quiet and apologetic and utterly unafraid. Danny had always known how this would end, had thought he’d seen the end of it more than once, with Bakuto’s blade slipping silently between his ribs or Harold’s gun aimed firmly at his head or Elektra’s face inches from his own or Davos carving him up or Rhyno’s gang watching him shiver and shake and vomit blood onto the warehouse floor and laughing. Danny knew how this story ended, and he’d made his peace with it. If he died tomorrow, he still would have lived far longer than he had expected. He’d accepted death at ten years old with a plane shaking around him, accepted it again a few months later with sweat beading on his brow and boys his age hitting him over and over and over again because there was no mercy in K’un Lun, not even a little. He’d accepted his death at the mouth of a cave, welcomed it when he stepped inside with nothing but his clenched fists and his aching muscles to face a beast he’d only heard of in storybooks. Death was nothing new, nothing scary. Danny had known it for years.

Tony went on then, talked about why he put on a metal suit, and Danny took a shuddering breath, closed his eyes for a moment as the words rushed out before he could stop them. “So have I,” he blurted, sudden and thick and full of grief. “I’m --- I had a job. I had people to protect, and I failed them, and they’re --- I have things to make up for, too. I have scales to balance.” You are nothing. Danny Rand failed an entire city. The place he was sworn to protect. Sowande’s words echoed in his ear, and they were true. They were true, no matter how many people claimed they weren’t. . When Danny’s plane went down, he’d never considered how it affected other people. He’d been ten years old, had his father’s body and his mother’s screams burned into the forefront of his mind, and thoughts back to New York had never been to think of how the people he’d left behind were coping with his presumed death. He remembered Joy talking about it shortly after he came back, quiet and mournful. He remembered the way Jeri looked at him with more emotion in her expression than he’d ever seen her wear before or since. He remembered Sharon showing up to his office and threatening to kill him for disrespecting the memory of a person she’d loved. He’d heard all those stories, but he’d never really stopped to ponder them.

Not until now.

Tony’s words rung in his ears, and Danny flinched. “I wasn’t…” He started, trailing off because what could he say? I’m sorry my plane went down? I’m sorry you thought I was dead and it broke you? I’m sorry you had to lose me? Danny had been a ghost for a very long time, a child haunting the people who had loved him, sainted by his death. And he was alive now, he was back, but they were still haunted. The ghost of the boy they’d known still hung in the corners of their minds, still rattled chains in the basements and made the floorboards groan. You couldn’t undo fifteen years of grief. . “I’m not trying to,” he said quietly, and it didn’t feel true even if it was. Danny didn’t want to die. He’d realized it all at once in Rhyno’s hideout, when BB crouched beside him and they’d both understood with abject certainty that the gang would be disposing of a corpse by nightfall. Danny didn’t want to die, but he’d still gone after Davos mere hours after he was rescued from that warehouse. He’d still gone out, alone and unarmed, to fight a man who’d already beaten him once, still landed himself in the hospital with doctors who whispered in voices they thought he couldn’t hear about the probability that amputation would be required to save his life. Danny didn’t want to die, but he didn’t know how to stop chasing death, either. He didn’t know how to walk away. “I know.” He said quietly. If any enforcer but Tony had found him, things would be different. Things would be worse.

Danny ran a hand through his hair, eyes burning. “I can’t stop, Tony. I can’t --- The way I was raised, after that plane went down, they taught me… I wasn’t a person to them. I was --- I’m a weapon, Tony, a, a thing, and I don’t --- It was expected there. That I’d… They expected it.” They expected him to die. Some of the kids took bets on it, in the beginning. ’If he lives more than a month, I’ll do your chores for a week.’ ’You can have half my rations for three days if he makes it a year.’ They hadn’t even tried to hide it, had spoken about it clear and outright well within earshot. Danny had grown used to that, over the years. It was how things were. He wasn’t supposed to live. He wasn’t meant to.

TONY: He’d been pretending his entire life. He’d been wearing masks since he was a child, going to galas with his father’s hand digging into his shoulder, leaving bruises in the shapes of his fingertips that expensive material always managed to hide. He’d been pretending from the first second he put on the metal mask in that cave, pretending that he was capable of becoming something bigger than former warmonger, Tony Stark, the boy turned man who was so naive as to believe that the person who helped raise him was incapable of hurting him, incapable of ordering his death.

Obadiah loved him, Tony had reasoned. Obadiah loved him, and he couldn’t possibly have known about any of the deals under the table, couldn’t possibly be the mastermind Pepper said he was. Obadiah loved him, and that was exactly why he wanted Tony dead, because loving Tony Stark had never been easy, not for anyone.

Rhodey’s career almost ended just by associating with him. Pepper was dropped into a blazing fire. Rumiko’s family all but disowned her, Tiberius’ stocks dropped, Sharon was forced to pick him up off the floor and discharge him from hospital, driving home silent and pretending that there wasn’t this large, unspoken thing sitting in the space between the driver and passenger’s seat. Loving Tony meant Maria cried every damn night. Loving Tony was so damn difficult that it made Howard want to hurt him, and he had. . ‘You’ll understand when you’re a parent.’ He’d uttered that more than once. ‘When you’re looking at someone you watched grow up, someone who has disappointed you, lied to you, failed to become what they should be — when that happens, Anthony, you’ll understand that it isn’t as black and white as you seem to think it is.’

Tony was looking at Danny. He was looking at Danny, and he felt like his heart had jumped out of his chest and was spluttering on the pavement between them, sustained only by the muddy water in the puddles of the alleyway, but he didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want anything to hurt him.

All Tony wanted, in that desperate, aching moment, was to bring Danny to a place where they never needed to have a conversation like this again, a place where they didn’t need to dance around the truth for months and years, because the Starks might have lied, the Carters might have made their name out of mistruths, the Rands may have misdirected, but their kids were honest. The three of them, they’d always loved each other different.

They’d always loved each other right.

(Tony was capable of that, after all — of loving someone in the correct way, of not turning into his father. In other circumstances, he may have been relieved. He had other things on his mind at this point in time.) . “Is that how you want it to end?” Tony would understand that, too. He would understand it more than almost anything else, that desperate need to go out in a blaze of glory to prove himself, to tip the cosmic scales, to cleanse his hands, to make himself worthy of being called hero by kids and parents alike. He’d tasted a human death. He didn’t much care for it. He would understand.

Just like Danny understood him.

I have scales to balance. Tony shifted, feeling like the conversation was on a Dutch tilt, like he’d had a few too many and the world wasn’t that blissful blur anymore but something far more disconcerting.

“Okay,” Tony breathed. It took him three attempts to make the word audible. “Okay, you can’t stop. That’s … we can work with that. We can make that happen, but you— if you want to do this, you have a chance now to do it right. Legitimise yourself. Get the protection of the Panel. Think of the good you could do if you didn’t need to look over your shoulder every five minutes for the cops.” Tony sucked in a breath, taking another step forward. “Register that weapon. I know you. I know what you stand for. Other people might not. They wouldn’t get it. If you …”

(It was Maria at the bottom of the marble staircase, head in her hands, shaking it gently when Tony asked if they were leaving after all. It was Steve, looking up, meeting his eye, putting the pen back in its case and walking away, taking the air in the room with him. It was Natasha on that balcony, or Rhodes in a plane saying hanging out with you is bad for our friendship, or Pepper asking what the hell was wrong with him that he could think, even for a moment, she would be okay with…)

“Please,” Tony said, reaching out a hand. “Come with me. Let me fix this, for you. Let me fix all of it.” We don’t have much time.

DANNY: In the months after he was brought into K’un Lun, after the wounds from the plane crash had healed and he had learned to breathe around the biting cold of air far crisper than even the coldest winters in New York, Danny had developed a habit of running away. It happened often in the beginning, so much so that sometimes he’d find Chodok waiting for him at the edge of the city with a knowing expression on his face, sad and disappointed and utterly unsurprised. He never got far, of course --- there was nowhere to go. There was no way out of K’un Lun, wouldn’t be until the gate opened fifteen years later, but Danny hadn’t wanted to believe that back then. He’d struggled to understand the complexities, had a hard time wrapping his mind around the new rules that seemed so strange compared to what he’d grown up with. How could something be there and then not be there? How could there be a way out one day and nothing the next? How could he exist for the rest of his life in a place that had made it so abundantly clear to him just how little he belonged?

He remembered Chodok, on one of the occasions he found him waiting at the gate for the next grand escape, looking especially exhausted. ’Why do you do this?’ He’d asked, frustrated and at his wits end and sounding more like a father than anyone else in the city had ever bothered and Danny had felt a rush of anger and grief so unexpected it had nearly knocked him off his feet. He’d wanted to scream, wanted to pound his tiny fists against the ground as if he had the strength to bend it to his will, to make it into something familiar and safe and home. His throat had felt tight and Chodok’s hand’s gripping his shoulders had been the only thing keeping him upright. ’I was trying to go home,’ he’d said, quiet and mournful. ’I’ve been trying to go home, I just want to go home and no one will let me. Why won’t you let me?’ . The outburst was embarrassing in hindsight, so childish that Danny felt humiliated at the memory, but the sentiment remained. There were days, even now, when he looked out into the city’s skyline and the thought would cross his mind, strong and certain and utterly nonsensical. I want to go home. Why can’t I go home? It reminded him of sitting in a helicopter with Colleen, of coming back to New York after months away, of looking down at the lights and feeling nothing where he should have felt safety. ’That’s the beauty of it,’ she’d said, ’it can be whatever you need it to be.’ ’What do you need it to be?’ He’d asked, because maybe if he knew her answer he could puzzle out his own. And she’d said home, like that was all there was to it, like one word was a complete sentence, and Danny felt nothing. He’d fought like hell to get back to New York, had nearly died for the city a hundred times over, and he felt nothing.

It took him a long time to understand why. It took him years to realize that it wasn’t buildings or sidewalks that got him out of bed in the middle of the night to run barefoot through the snow, desperate for a way back. It wasn’t his family’s old brownstone or his father’s office that tightened his chest with grief and rage and confusion when Chodok asked him why he insisted on running away time and time again. It was never New York that Danny was trying to get back to. It was Ward. It was Joy, it was Sharon. It was Tony.

Tony, who was looking at him like he’d ripped his heart out of his chest. Tony, who had accepted him back into his life as if he’d never left it, who had never once questioned where he had been or why he was different or why sometimes it seemed to hurt him just to breathe. Tony, who must have known all along that Danny had a nighttime hobby but who had never quite let it come to the surface because knowing meant he’d have to act on it.

Tony, who looked just as frustrated and tired now as Chodok had back then. . It occurred to Danny, quite suddenly, that there had been more than one driving factor in his grief that day with Chodok’s hands on his shoulders. It occurred to him that he’d spoken of home, but that hadn’t been all he’d wanted to say. The words hit him now all at once, quiet thoughts soaked in a child’s anger. Why didn’t you let me stay with you? Why did you give me away to Lei Kung? He doesn’t even like me, but you do. You’re the only person here who’s ever been nice to me, and you gave me away. Chodok must have known, when he’d found a boy in the snow, what would happen to him in K’un Lun. He must have known what he’d go through. He must have known they’d warp Danny into a weapon, must have known they’d beat him and berate him and hurt him, and he’d still done it. Danny thought, back then, that Chodok was the only person who’d never hurt him, but he had. Maybe not directly, but he had.

And now here was Tony, with that same expression on his face, and one key difference Danny recognized with ease --- Tony would never hurt him. Tony loved him the way Chodok couldn’t, the way Lei Kung and Harold couldn’t, the way maybe even Wendell couldn’t. Without consequence. Without condition. Danny had gone against him in a way that would have been punishable by death in K’un Lun, in a way that would have made Tony well within his rights to put him in cuffs and take him to the Raft, and Tony didn’t. He wouldn’t. There weren’t many people who loved Danny like that, and he thought Tony might have been first. He thought Tony might have been the first person to look at him, before K’un Lun and the plane crash and everything else, and decide he was worth loving.

He hoped letting him down wouldn’t change that. . “No,” Danny said, too quickly for it to be true. He paused for a moment, closing his eyes and swallowing before amending. “I don’t know.” He knew how it was supposed to end for him. He knew he’d been meant to die on that mountainside, when the Hand’s soldiers invaded the path he was supposed to guard. The Iron Fist was always supposed to die an honorable death in battle, and there was no K’un Lun left to die for but there were still battles to be fought. If he lost his life in one, maybe it would make up for the battle he’d missed. Maybe the only way you could find redemption was through death.

Tony went on then, offered options, and Danny felt like he was suffocating just a little. Register that weapon. Could he do that? It left a sour taste in his mouth, twisted a knot in his stomach that he didn’t understand. “Tony…” The name fell from his lips in a whisper, and it sounded like an apology, even to him. How could he explain it? How could he talk about K’un Lun, about the lasting damage done to him there? He’d belonged to someone once. He’d been a thing, and they had owned him. He existed for them, bled for them, would die for them, and they’d treated him with as much respect as they treated their swords. You kept a weapon sharp, you kept it clean. You gave it a sheath to rest in, you recognized its power when it was in your hands. You showed a weapon respect, you understood the danger it represented.

You didn’t love it. . You didn’t call a weapon by its preferred nickname. You didn’t ask it how it felt about the solution you used to clean it with. You didn’t value its opinion, you didn’t tuck it into bed at night, you didn’t hold it close when it woke up screaming, didn’t wipe away its tears when it cried. When a weapon had an owner, it couldn’t be loved. And Danny wanted, with the same childlike desperation that inspired his outburst in Chodok’s arms more than a decade ago, to be loved.

If he signed the Accords, it wouldn’t make people love him less. He knew that. On a logical level, he knew that. But the heart was not a logical organ, and his was beating so quickly in his chest that some paranoid part of him feared his ribs might break. “I can’t,” he said quietly. “Tony, I just can’t.”

TONY: He wasn’t talking half as much as he was ten minutes ago. Danny wasn’t arguing, wasn’t trying to plead his case. He wasn’t putting the pen back in the case like Steve, or reaching a hand out to him like Sam had on the grass that day. He wasn’t looking at Tony how Obadiah used to, like he was exhausted and frustrated and disappointed all in one, like he couldn’t understand how Tony could be so intelligent and still unable to grasp what he conceived to be simple facts of the universe, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking at Tony like Howard used to.

He was looking at Tony a little how Maria used to, though — a little like Tony was breaking his heart. Tony decided not to think too much into that.

Maybe this would be easier if Danny was arguing. Maybe it would be easier for Tony to say he was convinced to let Danny go, or that he was persuaded to break the code that he’d signed up to enforce, if his cousin was standing in front of him in a goddamn bandana making a case for his vigilante activities that Tony had been resolutely ignoring for the past six months (years, really. Not just months. Years, since he came back).

Tony could’ve been dead in Afghanistan. He could’ve been dead and he wouldn’t even have the chance to stand in front of Danny and make a decision that should be difficult.

It wasn’t difficult.

“Stop,” Tony said, raking his fingers through his hair. What he’d give to be a few shots down right now — and with that thought, memories came flooding back of Sharon, barely out of high school, coming to sign him out of the hospital because he didn’t want Obie to see him, because of the shame that came with it. Memories came flooding back of Pepper, and of Rhodes falling, and of Steve in Siberia, and … . He turned from Danny. A tactical misstep, undoubtedly, but Tony wasn’t thinking tactically. He knew Danny wasn’t going anywhere. He knew that, because he knew Danny.

He also knew something else. He ran his hands down over his face, eyes burning, and turned back to meet his cousin’s eye.

“Just because you love someone,” he started, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. “Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you’re good for them, right? Just because … I mean, I’m not good.” The suit whirred as his hand went to his chest. “This thing, it’s never— I’ve never worked right. I’ve always been hard, you know, difficult to …”

Tony sucked in a breath. FRIDAY was in his ear, despite the mute order. (He really needed to work on obedient artificial intelligence — but like his friends, Tony always preferred having bots around him that were willing to call him out. A moral compass of his own creation.) They didn’t have much longer.

They didn’t have any longer. A holograph appeared from the arm of Tony’s suit, detailing several targets (colleagues) a few metres from the alleyway.

He looked up once more. “I want to be good for someone. I need that.”

A long sigh, and the helmet formed over his head. “No wonder I’m in permanent heart failure,” he muttered. “Come on, idiot. My co-workers are coming, and if they get a shot in on us, I’ll die of embarrassment before I get to kill you.”

DANNY: When Danny was ten years old, his childhood ended in a heartbeat. He was a boy one moment, sitting on a plane and listening to music that was probably a little too old for him, staring out the window at mountaintops that looked so small. Then the world started to shake and the plane started to groan and all at once, life as he knew it was over. His mother was sucked into open air, his stomach bottomed out, his father’s voice grew more and more desperate until he couldn’t hear it at all. Danny hadn’t died in that crash, but the boy he’d been when he stepped on that plane? He was gone the moment the debris hit the snow.

There were no children in K’un Lun. It was Davos who told him that, Davos who sat beside him when he was terrified and desperate and trying to understand what was going on, why he was being beaten and pushed and hurt even when he hadn’t done anything wrong. We’re kids, he’d said, almost pleading as he gripped bruised ribs and tried not to cry. Why are they hurting us? We’re just kids. And Davos, if anything, had been confused. He hadn’t understood that, in other parts of the world, things were different. He hadn’t been familiar with cultures that saw children as precious things to protect. There are no children in K’un Lun, Danny, he’d said, in what Danny figured now was a tone as close to gentle as he’d known how to make it. We’re weapons. And so he had been. For fifteen years, he had been a weapon instead of a child, a thing instead of a person. . But he didn’t feel like that now. Standing in this alley, with Tony across from him, Danny felt like he was nine years old again. He felt like a child, being scolded by a parent. He felt like he had when he’d knocked his mother’s wine glass off the table and shattered it against the floor, when his father sat him down and lectured him on caution. It’s so easy to break things, Danny, he’d said, it’s so easy to do damage. It’s hard not to. It’s hard to be good. We have to try anyways.

Danny’d broken something much worse than a wine glass now. He’d broken a law, broken more than one law, actually. He’d broken Tony’s trust, too. (And he’d broken more than that. A quick flash of a memory popped into his mind --- the Reaper, blood on his lips, grinning up at Danny. This is my favorite part. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Danny’s throat felt tight.)

He’d opened his mouth again, to explain or to argue or to beg forgiveness, but he snapped it shut quickly when Tony told him to stop. Obedience was an easy habit to fall back on after K’un Lun, especially when he was on edge. Tony wasn’t Lei Kung or Priya, wasn’t Yu-Ti or Master Khan. He wouldn’t beat Danny into submission if he didn’t comply without question. But Danny’s mind was split between two places, and there was some comfort in doing what you were told when you were at a loss. There was some comfort in silence, too. . Tony turned away from him, and Danny squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath. He was disappointed, he knew. He’d disappointed Tony, and that was the last thing he’d ever wanted to do. “You’re one of the best people I know,” he offered quietly, because it was true. “I’m not…” he trailed off, chest aching. “I’m not what anyone wanted me to be. I don’t know how to be what anyone wants me to be. Not you, or Ward, or Sharon, or Colleen, or…” He trailed off, smiling tightly and giving his head a self-deprecating shake. If he listed all the people he’d let down, he knew, they’d spend all night in this alley.

Something was happening inside the suit, and Danny wasn’t a smart man but he could guess what. Tony had been here too long, and enforcers didn’t work alone. Someone else was going to come soon. Someone who wouldn’t want to talk things over, someone who didn’t love him enough to forgive his transgressions.

For a moment, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. Danny was pretty sure Tony wouldn’t arrest him, but he didn’t quite relax until Tony told him to come on. His shoulders slumped and he nodded his head slightly. He moved to follow Tony before hesitating, pausing with one foot still lifted in a half-step. “You’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you?” For helping him. For loving him.

TONY: Being a good man always came with too many terms and conditions for it to be something Tony genuinely strived for. Being a good man meant making choices that cost people their livelihoods. It meant dropping bombs in foreign countries and focusing purely on the statistics of such a move instead of the human impact. It meant saying no when you wanted to say yes, saying yes when you wanted to say no. It meant hurting the people you cared about and spending your entire life following those you didn’t, because they’d offer you a leg up the career ladder, or get you that coveted contract.

“No,” Tony said, holding his hand up. “We’re not doing that, okay? We’re not. I … I’m not the guy people put weight on, alright?” Tony was the fixer. He always had been for those he cared about, for those he didn’t, for his family and friends and strangers all in one. He was the guy people went to when they needed out of a bad situation, but the second people started loving him, the second they shifted into thinking of him as more than just a means to an end, the second they started looking at him like he knew Danny was behind that bandana, things changed. That was when people could really hurt you, when they could get inside you and twist you inside out, when they could let you down.

He’d already dragged Steve down with him, a truly good man, a man who deserved so much better than anything Tony could give. He wasn’t going to do the same thing to Danny, not without a warning. Not without a comprehensive list outlining all the reasons why Tony Stark wasn’t someone to consider a hero. . “You don’t need to know who you are,” Tony replied. “You don’t. You … I know you’re going to hate me for saying this, but you’re young, Danny. You’re so fucking young. You’re … I was still selling weapons when I was your age. I still believed Obie wasn’t trying to put a hit out on my head. I was still calling Ru every time I got drunk, and you, you didn’t even get your childhood. You didn’t get to be a teenager. You’re young. Your mistakes, they still count, but they’re not … you’re not irredeemable. You’re not.”

No one was. Not even Tony, not even when he found that hard to accept.

You’re going to get in trouble for this, aren’t you? Tony hesitated, just for a moment, then shrugged a shoulder. “I’m already in a shit load of trouble, Danny,” he said. “Helping you isn’t going to be the thing that drags me down.” As it had always been, Iron Man’s greatest foe was himself.

And then the Enforcers arrived, providing a rather convenient outlet for the anger that particular thought prompted. “Keep tight,” Tony called over, “but the second you see a gap, you get out.” With that, and trusting that for once Danny would listen to a word he said, Tony sent a blast towards one of the Enforcers, knocking them back before their weapon could fire.

This was going to be so much paperwork.

#char: danny rand #discord

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valiantleigh · 4 years

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What I Learned From 5 Years of Minimalism

The Beginning of a Learning Curve

It all started with clothes. Oh boy, the clothes that 14-year-old Brenna chose to wear. Walking into Rue 21, determined to make all my fashion dreams come true, I‌ [un]wisely chose 3 pairs of brightly colored skinny jeans⁠—electric blue, shockingly emerald green, and maroon⁠—and cheaply made circle scarves and tops to match. This was it. This is how I would gain the “oohs” and “ahhs” and admiration of my fellow trendy Freshmen at Parowan High.

Eventually, the glamour wore off. Frustrated, I realized that rare shades of spunky green could only match with so many things. Dressing fashionably was more of a chore than I had ever wanted it to be, and somehow I still didn’t measure up to the girls around me. How would I‌ ever be comfortable with how I looked and achieve the effortless style I longed for?

Enter minimalism⁠—the worldwide movement touting the universal benefits of decluttering, downsizing, and “less is more.” Capsule wardrobes and black and white outfits seemed like the perfect solution to my personal style dilemma, and at age 15 I proudly declared myself to be a “minimalist.”

(If you are not familiar with the term “minimalism”, this article, and this article both give a good overview.)

I‌ began to devour every piece of minimalist literature and media I could find. I strategically began buying clothing that was guaranteed to pair well each day. I was ruthless as I decluttered my belongings and challenged myself to thrive with only the things that were necessary. Everything had to go. Frivolity and excess became enemies to my ideal of perfection.

At one point, I was successfully dressing myself for school each day with only 3 shirts, 2 pairs of jeans, 2 pairs of shoes, and one jacket to my name. Decided pickiness and a limited budget didn’t allow for much more, but at that time it was all about the numbers. I was proud of myself for proving it was possible to “live with less.”

But minimalism isn't strictly about clothing. It's a way of life. Mistakenly, I began to pattern myself after the lifestyle I saw on other people’s blogs and YouTube channels, convincing myself that this was my best life. Minimalism changed a lot of things for me: how I‌ viewed my time, my dream [tiny] house I‌ would build in college (ha! not happening), constant dissatisfaction with the untidiness of any room that wasn’t mine, and even how I‌ lived the gospel. Clearing the excess left me feeling empty instead of whole.

It took a little while but I finally realized that I‌ don’t want the smallest home possible; I don’t want to grow all my food and live off the grid; I‌ don’t want to constantly obsess over having the “right” stuff. And white walls and furniture? Forget it! I’m gonna be a mama, after all.

What I Got Wrong

In the end, minimalism wasn’t the solution to all my problems. For a young girl who felt that having full control over every detail of her life would bring the peace she desired, maybe minimalism wasn’t the best thing. However, looking back I wouldn’t give up the lessons I‌ learned about the relationship between possessions and my individual worth. While there was certainly a time that I cut out too much in order to live the lifestyle I‌ thought would save me, I have now kept the best parts of that journey and found balance and joy in more fulfilling ways.

So what are the best parts of minimalism? A few years ago, I totally missed the mark on that score. “Minimalism is a tool to rid yourself of life’s excess in favor of focusing on what’s important—so you can find happiness, fulfillment, and freedom.” (theminimalists.com, emphasis added) I, however, was using this tool as a justification for striving for unattainable flawlessness.

While I recount my past misunderstandings concerning minimalism, my goal is to dissuade you from it’s vices, not it’s actual tenets. Younger Brenna was reading words between the lines that weren’t meant to be there in the first place.

In fact, nearly every minimalist influencer out there pleads that newbies to the movement avoid conforming to any one way of using minimalism, especially if it isn’t right for them.

According to Colleen Valles of No Side Bar, “the beauty of minimalism” is that “there are no standards.”

“Minimalism is not about following someone else’s rules or way of living as a minimalist,” offers Melissa of Simple Lionheart Life. “It’s about figuring out what is important to you and getting rid of everything that’s distracting you from the important stuff.”

As I made this mental shift from a sort of utopian/restrictive minimalism to a mindful/carefree minimalism, here’s a few lessons I picked up on:

Lesson 1: When you find out what is really important to you, you’ll actually want it, and have a clear path to get it.

In this busy, busy world there is so much to choose from. With all of these choices vying for our attention, decision fatigue eventually leads to self doubt and feelings of failure.

But do we really even want the things that we choose on a daily basis? Do we want to scroll through our Instagram for 6 hours a day? Do we want to impress people whose opinions don’t matter to us anyway? Do we want to avoid things that might challenge us just because it is safe and easy? No one, when making a list of their priorities in life, even thinks about these things. They don’t make the Top 100!

So ask yourself, “What do I really want? And what is stopping me from obtaining it?” When I talk about actually wanting something, that includes taking the necessary action to reach for it and then make it a reality. This is different than saying something is a priority, or knowing something should be important to us.

You don't really want it unless you act like you want it.

A powerful gift that we have been given from our God is our ability to choose. By realizing what you really want and don’t want for your life, daily decision-making won't necessarily become easier, but it will certainly be simpler.

In my own life, instead of wearing certain styles of clothes to fit in or measure up to someone else, I‌ wear them because I‌ want to. I dress modestly because I want to. I‌ wear my vintage mom jeans because I look dang good in them, and because I‌ want to.

Instead of counting how many objects I own in order to fit into some made up ideal, I‌ keep it to the necessities because I want to. I‌ want my stuff to be organized, so I organize it, not worrying about how unorganized other people’s stuff is (because people are more important than stuff).

Once I figured out what I‌ really wanted, my life truly became mine, not some miserable copy-cat existence. My biggest hope for you is to recognize just how much power you wield when you make the choice to choose what your life is going to be.

Lesson 2: You can’t have everything you want, but you can be content.

I know this seems counter-intuitive to "choose what you want in life." But hear me out.

I am a firm believer that when we decide to choose the important stuff, it invites those things into our lives like a magnet. But I also know that we can’t choose every situation, or heartache, or trial that becomes a part of our mortal journey.

I like to think that our freedom of choice falls into two categories: (1) the things we can control or influence, no questions asked, and (2) the things we can’t–in which case we still have full and complete control over our attitude, our outlook, our reaction, and how we cope with what is placed before us.

My decision to be a minimalist was born out of discontent. I‌ just wanted more, more, more, because I didn’t feel like I was enough. But today, I’m here to tell you, that whatever you do have–whether it’s less or more–you can be content, and even grateful, right where you are. You are enough, and all that surrounds you is enough.

Even after all my talk of action and knowing what you want, I know that sometimes there is no amount of action that can change what our reality is right now. Some of our desires only come to fruition after we’ve been reaching for a very long time.

Remember those two categories of choices? I‌ think that they can be separated by time as well. The first category, the things we can control, are all in the future, at some later date. And while we wait, we make the category two choices: our attitude, how we view our situation. Contentedness is “satisfaction with things as they are.”

Plainly stated, we will never be happy or fulfilled with what we have in the future if we don’t accept our current situation–the “right now.”

What I am trying to say is this: maybe you want x but you need y. You want a clean home, but you need less stuff. You want freedom, but you need to take charge of your choices. You want peace, but you need to make space for it by letting go of something first. You want to be productive, but you need to measure your success differently.

After you know what you want, being content in your day-to-day existence–with yourself, your situation, your stuff, and the people around you–is the best way to love the journey while you reach for your desires.

Lesson 3: Money matters, but not in the way the world tells you.

Long before minimalism, I‌ learned my most important lesson about money management from paying tithing. Giving 10-percent of my earnings to the Lord–as a act of faith and obedience–has always multiplied the other 90-percent.

Minimalism taught me how to more effectively use that 90-percent. It’s easy to think that we are free to spend money just because we have it. I have been shopping for about 5 out of 20 years that I've been alive, and every purchase that ended up not working out in the way that I expected–whether I‌ was expecting increased happiness, popularity, or some easy fix to a deeper problem–was a lesson about treating my money well.

When you treat your money with kindness, it will treat you kindly too. So be nice to your money. Think carefully before you use it. Save some of it to show that you appreciate it. Invest it in something for the future. Spend it on that which is good and wholesome–especially the things and the people you treasure. But in all of your budgeting, don’t be too stingy with it. Money will ebb and flow through your life. Treat yourself! Use it as a tool to improve your life and lives around you. The mistakes you make with money will always be lessons for the future. Money is forgiving when you try to mend your ways; all it takes is some time.

Livin’ the Slow Life

I‌ hope you realize how recently these lessons took full effect for me. It didn’t happen right at first, or even all at once.

Over time, I’ve come to distance myself from the world of minimalism. I‌ no longer pour over articles from minimalist bloggers. I‌ know enough, and it sits well with me. Still, minimalism has been a big part of my growth, and I can’t pretend like it never happened.

Now that I know myself and my stuff a little bit better, I’ve decided to call what I do “slow living.” With a quick internet search you will find that there is certainly a slow movement going on, with decades of history behind it, but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm just doing what works for me (and borrowing the term). How I approach productivity, money, and how I spend my time is largely influenced by minimalism, but recently it’s become something all it's own. (Of course, I’ve always been influenced by the gospel of Jesus Christ.) Right now, I’m just focused on “embracing my pace.” And I can’t wait to tell you more about it.

Live valiant leigh,

Brenna

[Originally posted on September 3, 2019]

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icarusaturn · 4 years

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Learn about me!

1. Your name?

Maria Lawson

2. Nationality?

American

3. Age?

4. Birthday?

November 12, 2003

5. Zodiac sign?

Scorpio

6. Gender?

Female

7. Sexuality?

Bisexual

8. Your looks ( add a picture or describe them)

9. What do you/did you study?

I’m still in high school, but I’d like to study something either about language, music, or helping people/animals

10. What’s your current job like/what do you have?

I work during the summer at a Dairy Queen, a lot of my friends work there so it’s usually pretty fun

11. Your birth order?

Second, third if you count my sister

12. How many siblings do you have?

2, one brother and over half sister

13. Do you have good relations with your family?

Mostly yes

14. How many friends do you have?

Many but only around 5 close friends

15. Your relationship status?

Single

16. What do you look for in an SO?

Honest, kind, loves animals and kids, up to adventure, loves music, loves nerdy things, open to trying new things, good sense of humor, respects boundaries & privacy, not pushy

17. Do you have a crush?

18. When did you have your first kiss?

8th grade

19. Do you prefer a serious/meaningful relationship or casual dating/one night stands?

I won’t mind either a serious relationship or casual dating

20. What are your deal breakers?

No common sense, being an asshole, pushy, no respect, derogatory towards others, no self respect, being overwhelming and or annoying, hates animals/is rude to animals, can’t be independent, lazy

21. How was your day?

Good!

22. Favorite food and drink?

My favorite food is probably chicken or bacon cheeseburgers for meat, otherwise I love any sort of fruit. My favorite drink besides water (lol) is lemonade

23. What position do you sleep in?

Usually I sleep on my stomach or my side

24. What was your last dream about?

One of my friends’ sister was working at a Barnes and Nobel

25. Your fears?

Being betrayed, being lied to, everyone secretly hating me, being left alone, being forgotten

26. Your dream?

I want to be successful and happy with a good place to live and good friends

27. Your goals?

The same as my dream

28. Any pets?

Yeah, one cat named Sabrina

29. What are your hobbies?

Art, theater, band, choir, speech

30. Any cool places in your area?

I live in a small town, so there’s many unique things about it

31. What was your last awkward situation?

I was in the car at the local grocery store and someone I didn’t like parked next to me

32. What is your last regret?

My last relationship

33. Language(s) you can speak?

Only English, although I’m trying to learn sign language

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc. )

It’s very interesting so yes, I’d also like to learn more about it

35. Have any quirks?

I have synesthesia, the type where I can hear colors

36. Your pet peeves

Lazy people, people touching my stuff without permission, when someone keeps trying to talk to me while I’m listening to music, annoying loud people, obnoxious rude people, people who blurt things while someone else is trying to speak, people who think they’re better than everyone else, liars

37. Ideal vacation

Anywhere where whoever I’m with and I can do what we please whenever we please

38. Any scars?

A few from childhood and some more recent ones from self harm. I’m in a safer space and state of mind now, so there’s no need to worry

39. What does your last text message say?

I just signed up, did it work?

40. Last 5 things from your search history?

Marvel characters

Color block hoodie teddy fresh

Griz and Norm frozen

Everything I wanted lyrics

Kirishima shirt

41. What’s your device background?

42. What do you daydream about?

Movie/show scenes, memories, possible future outcomes, music

43. Describe your dream home

A house in the city with a bay window, an atrium, a claw foot bathtub, and a modern vintage look/feel, clean with nerdy decor

44. What’s your religion/thoughts on religion

I don’t have a religion because I don’t know much about it, but either way I don’t want to attend any holy services, because I’d like to prioritize other things. I do believe that everyone has their own rights to what they believe in, to me it’s like saying people should be able to eat, it’s common sense

45. You Personality type?

Campaigner personality ENFP - T

You can read about it on 16 personalities

46. Most dangerous thing you’ve done

When I was around 12 I flew with my brother alone on a plane

47. Are you happy with your current life?

For the most part yes

48. Some things you’ve tried in your life?

I’ve tried competitive dance, baking, hiking, and woodworking to name a few

49. What does your wardrobe consist of?

The usual stuff, t shirts, hoodies, jackets, sweaters, casual & fancy clothes, dresses, lots of shoes, jeans and leggings

50. Favorite color to wear

Yellow or blue

51. How would you describe your style?

Trendy nerd

52. Are you happy with your current looks?

Yeah mostly

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?

I want freckles lol

54. Any tattoos or piercings?

I have 4 lobe piercings, 2 on each side, and my left ear helix so 5 in total. I’m planning on getting many small tattoos and my septum pierced. Nothing drastic, all simple and small

55. Do you get complimented often?

Yes, almost every day with my hair and a lot with outfits

56. Favorite aesthetics?

Nature, vintage, character inspired

57. A popular trend that you dislike

There were these weird wavy eyebrows, not a fan 😂

58. Songs you’re currently obsessed with?

All of the Frozen 2 soundtrack, For The First Time in Forever and Let It Go from Frozen, Are You Bored Yet by Wallows, Amerika by Young the Giant, Maniac by Conan Gray, Come Around by Papa Roach, Same Damn Life by Seether, and Soarin by Bazzi

59. Song you wouldn’t normally admit you like?

I like mostly everything, so I would admit to liking mostly any song someone brings up

60. Favorite genre?

Pop or show tunes/ movie tunes

61. Favorite song/band/ genre?

My favorite song right now is a tie between Show Yourself and Into The Unknown from Frozen 2 or Are You Bored Yet by Wallows

62. Hated popular songs/artists?

6ix9ine, lil pump, artists like them

63. Put your music on shuffle & list first 5 songs

Prom Queen by Molly Kate Kestner

I’m Born to Run by American Authors

Holding on to You by Twenty One Pilots

Trip Switch by Nothing but Thieves

Swimming Pool Summer by Capital Cities

64. Can you sing/play any instruments?

I sing Soprano 1 and play Flute

65. Do you like karaoke?

Yeah!

66. Own any albums?

No vinyls or cassettes or DVD’s, it’s all on my Spotify lol

67. Do you listen to the radio? What stations?

I only listen to Spotify

68. Favorite movie/series?

My favorite movies are Frozen, Frozen 2, The Lion King, or any marvel movie past iron man lol

My favorite series are My Hero Academia, Voltron and friends

69. Favorite genre movies/ books/ etc.

Action, comedy, and fantasy

70. Your fictional crushes?

None lol

71. Which fictional character is you?

A mix of Elsa and Anna and Bakugou and Kirishima

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps if so

I don’t ship many things but I love Tododeku and Kiribaku

73. Favorite Greek god?

Apollo, Athena is my favorite goddess

74. A legend from where you live that you like?

There’s no legends where I live, but I like state legends like the legend of Paul Bunyan

75. Do you like art? What’s your favorite work or artist?

I like more modern artists, like ones on tumblr lol. These are a few artists I really like

@elentori-art @tecochet @cherriielle

76. Can you share your other social media?

I have Instagram, Twitter and the like but my Pinterest is maria_1820

77. Favorite youtubers

Colleen Ballinger, Joey Graceffa, Trainer Tips, David Dobrik, Molly Burke, Shane Dawson

78. Favorite platform

Everything but Facebook lol

79. How much time do you spend in the internet?

All of the time 😂

80. What video games have you played? Which ones your favorite?

I’ve played the sims and Mario kart and I like the sims more lol

81. Your favorite books?

We are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson and the My Hero Academia series

82. Do you play board/card games?

Not really

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema?

Nope

84. Favorite holiday?

Christmas

85. Are you into dramas?

Medical/police/firefighter dramas lol

86. Would you use death note if you had one?

I’d like to say no but I probably would

87. What changes would you make in the world no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?

I would have everyone have a good house and money

88. (There wasn’t a question here so I made one up)What was your first word?

Besides mama, my first word was eat

89. If you turned into a paranormal being, what would it be?

A Phoenix

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death?

I’d want my body donated to science

91. If you had to change your name what would you pick?

I like my name so I wouldn’t change it

92. Who would you switch lives with for a week?

Maybe a guy to see what it’s like

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo

🪐

94. Write 3 things about yourself + only one of them must be true

I love acrylic nails

I’ve never been on a train

I met Dan and Phil

95. Cold or hot?

Cold because I could put on a sweater

96. Be a hero or be a villain?

Hero

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?

Sing everything because I sometimes find rhyming annoying

98. Shape shifting or controlling time?

Shape shifting

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?

Immune to everything but natural death

100. Book or movie?

Both

#ask away #send me asks #ask me things #get to know me

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the-sweetest-dragon · 5 years

Text

Souls Uniting

Part Two: Time Flies

Pairing: Peter Parker x Phoenix Graves

Reminder: Soulmate AU

Word Count: 2.5k

AN: I really like writing this series and I have a lot of plans for it (It’s already like 20 pages...) so I’m hoping it picks up a little more. I love the character and I want to explore her a little more. The next one will probably be from Peter’s POV because... well you’ll see.

Tags: @audder17 my favorite Spider-Man nerd

Character Sheet Part One

______________________________________________________

“I want to be your soulmate, even if I don’t believe in them.” – Colleen Hoover

10:37 A.M., Thursday, June 20th, 2019

I groan as my curtains are pulled open, sunshine bearing down on me.

“Rise and shine sleepyhead! Today’s the day!” I groan again. Mom was super excited for this farmer’s market that she had heard about a few days after we had moved in. She was dragging me along with her, something about exploring the city, even though we had to make a half hour drive OUTSIDE of the city just to get to this market.

I cover my head with my blanket. Maybe if she can’t see me, then she’ll leave me be. Ha, that’s a funny joke Phee. You should know better than that. I peek outside my blanket cover to see Mom standing at my desk, my sketchbook in her hands. I sigh and throw the blanket off me.

“You do realize that sometimes my sketchbooks are private, right?” Mom gives me a guilty smile and I shake my head at her.

“I was just looking at your designs for the kitchen.” She sets the sketch book down. “You had bought a lot of blue paint and I was curious.”

“Well, you know what they say.” I sit up in bed and stretch. “Curiosity killed the cat.” I smile and get up out of bed, disturbing both Salem and Sabrina. They both stare at me with unnerving yellow eyes. “Sorry kids.”

“Ah, but satisfaction brought it back.” Mom smiles and gives both cats a quick pet. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.” I groan but listen to her, knowing that’ll be the best for me if I just do as she says. I pull on the first outfit I find, which happens to be a paint splattered, black tank top and a pair of shorts. Parting my hair into two little space buns on the top of my head, I pause to brush my teeth quickly before hurrying to the kitchen.

I notice the new doodle before my mom does this time. A smile comes across my face; whoever this was had to be very into memes, because on my arm was a surprised Pikachu face. I couldn’t help but laugh softly. I just had to get stuck with a nerd huh?

“Whatcha laughing at Phee?” I turn to find Mom smiling behind me, a to-go coffee mug in her hands. I sigh and show her, making her laugh as well. “Well, whoever it is, sure isn’t an artist.” She pats my arm and gathers up her purse, double checking that her keys are in them before opening our door. “Ready for an adventure?”

Laughing, I head out the door, not realizing that at that very moment, I would run into someone. I run head first into a guy that I had seen only in passing; he lived up a floor with his aunt. Didn’t know much about him other than there wasn’t anyone else living with them. He was around my age, if not a year older, and fairly cute.

I ran into him, making both of us trip over each other’s feet. He recovers before me and holds onto my biceps to steady me. I notice how gently he holds my arms, like he may break them. A spark travels through my body, like he shocked me or something. I regain my balance and shake myself out of his hold. I don’t need anyone holding me up.

“You good?” I nod, making an ‘ok’ gesture with my hands. He smiles, knocking me off guard a little. “I’m Peter.” He sticks out his hand for me to shake. I narrow my eyes at his hand but shake it anyways, feeling that shock again. I’m not big on shaking hands; it’s almost too formal but a hug is too familiar so I’m stuck with a handshake.

“Phoenix.” I try to smile, I really do, but I’ve noticed his face and I can’t seem to look away. He’s got these big brown doe eyes that make you want to spill all your secrets. It’s quite frustrating actually. I shake myself out of it. Get a grip Phee. “Nice to meet you Peter. I’ve got to get going.”

I wave awkwardly goodbye and head downstairs to wait for Mom. God, could I get anymore awkward? I sigh and turn my head up to the ceiling, praying to any god that would listen to just let me die. Apparently, I could not be trusted around cute boys anymore. I rub the Pikachu face absentmindedly, wishing I hadn’t of knocked into the kid. It couldn’t get anymore embarrassing.

12:13 P.M., Thursday, June 20th, 2019

As it turns out, I could always get more embarrassed by Mom. She had this power, that only parents could possibly have. Mom can make an awkward, one time situation, into a full length discussion. On the car ride to the farmer’s market, we talked about how that Peter guy could have been my soulmate, did you look at his arms, was he cute, do you want to invite him for dinner one night. The more questions she asked, the farther I sunk into my seat. Being stuck in the car certainly didn’t help matters; Mom is not a good navigator, so after an hour of searching for this mysterious farmer’s market we headed home. Which took even longer than before because we had managed to get lost. Story of our lives.

Back home, Mom ordered some lunch and I worked on my design for the kitchen. What I really wanted to do was make a beach scene that started over the sink in the kitchen and carried out into the living room. I start sketching the idea out more thoroughly, making it less detailed than the final product. The painting process would take me a lot longer than I had originally anticipated but I was up to the challenge and had the entire summer to work on it.

I sit back in my chair, thinking again about the art on my arms. Should I draw something on them just to see? Mom would say yes, of course I should. I nibble on a hangnail, thinking about my options. I could do it, figure out right away if that Peter guy was my soulmate, and be somewhat freaked out over how easy it was. Or I could relax and enjoy this time without a soulmate. I, being the selfish being that I am, decide to not do anything. If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.

“How’s the sketch coming honey?” I sigh and get up from my chair in the living room to find Mom in the kitchen taping off counters and cabinets in preparation for tomorrow. She shoots me a smile when I walk in.

“It’s coming okay. I’m not entirely happy with how it’s looking but by the time I paint it, it should be pretty good.” Mom nods and turns back to the walls. I study her for a moment, thinking I may do some portraits for her birthday next month. I’m sure she would love them but faces are hard to master, especially the eyes. I sigh and go back to my chair in the living room.

A buzz is heard throughout the apartment. The food must be here. I hop up and grab some money from my purse to pay before opening the door. The delivery boy smiles and my heart does a little skip. He’s really good looking; vibrant auburn hair and green eyes. Kinda crooked nose and a thin mouth. I check his arm subconsciously, knowing without seeing that there’s no doodles on his arms, but wanting to make sure. I hand him the money and he hands us our food. Closing the door, I sigh, somewhat disappointed. As much as I hate the idea of having a soulmate, it bugs me that I don’t know who it is.

“Food is here!” I can hear Mom laugh and a soft thud as she drops down onto the floor. I set the food containers on our small wooden table, which is covered in paintings of flowers and other small things. I did those when I was first learning to paint and this table has traveled with us for many years.

I open one box and am met with the delicious scent of fried rice and sweet chicken. Mom hands me our chopsticks while she tries to find clean plates. I continue to open boxes as she looks. She comes back in with plates and we both dig into our respective dishes; sweet and sour chicken for me and teriyaki chicken for her.

“You know, when I was growing up, your grandmother refused to let us eat Chinese food. Said it wasn’t real Chinese food and then proceeded to make some of the most disgusting food I’ve ever eaten.” Mom shakes her head with a smile. “She wasn’t much of a cook but when she put her mind to something, nothing would stop her.” She smiles softly at me. “You remind me of her. She would have loved you.” I bite my lip and nod.

My grandmother was deported when I was just a few months old. Grandfather had passed away a year before that, and since she wasn’t an American citizen, she was sent back to China. She passed away a few months after that, brokenhearted and alone. Mom never forgave herself for allowing it to happen but there hadn’t been anything she could do. Now, all Mom had were memories of her kind mother and a legacy to protect.

We finished our meal is comfortable silence. I got back to work on my project, finally finishing and setting it aside for tomorrow.

11:22 P.M., Thursday, June 20th 2019

I really loved my room but had no ideas for how to paint it. Mom had suggested cherry blossoms but I’m not really the flowery type anymore. My sketchbook is filled to the brim with ideas but I’m not a hundred percent on any of them. Absentmindedly, I turn my pens to my arm, drawing out constellations and small dragons that float through clouds. Too late, I realize I didn’t want to draw on my arm but something was pushing me to do so. I huff, irritated with whatever gods that were pushing me to try and find my soulmate. Throwing my pens to my desk, I set my sketchbook down on the floor. Maybe some yoga will help me relax and find some new ideas.

I have access to the fire escape, where I’ve set up my yoga mat and a few plants on the windowsill. Before going out, I make sure to lock my door; Mom had told me that the fire escape was off limits but I couldn’t help myself. It was quiet out there, and I could almost make out the stars.

Changing into some comfortable clothes, I quickly make my way out onto the fire escape only to find someone else already there. A man, or what I assume is a man, in a red and blue spandex suit is perched on the railing of my fire escape. I clear my throat and watch as he nearly slips off the rails. He quickly rights himself and turns towards me and my heart stops in my chest. A soft gasp escapes my mouth and the eyes on his suit widen in shock.

“Holy shit.” I hear softly from the man. He must feel it too, this feeling of not being able to breathe. I back up into my plants and my heart screams at me to go towards him, not away, but my mind wants me out of there and quickly. He holds his hands out, trying to get me to stop moving but I just freak out a little more. I trip over a potted plant and my whole world tips.

In a blur, his fingers are clasped around my wrist and a small spark travels through my body. The eyes of his mask are trained on my arm and I pull my wrist out of his grasp, quickly pulling down my sleeves to cover my doodles.

“Why are you on my fire escape?” I narrow my eyes at him. Of course I know why he’s on my fire escape but I want to hear it from him. Having an Avenger sitting on my fire escape was something I’d have to paint, I decide. I make a mental note of how the street lights reflect off the eyes in his mask and the spider design on his suit curves over the muscles in his arms. I allow myself to admire his form for a few moments before shaking myself out of it and crossing my arms over my chest. I raise myself to my full height, a whopping five feet and three inches, hoping to intimidate him into telling me the truth.

“I was uh… resting?” I can hear the lie in his voice and narrow my eyes at him. He sighs, which sounds odd when someone’s mouth is mostly covered. Spider-Man pulls up the bottom part of his mask to reveal his mouth. My mind instantly goes to what the rest of his face may look like and I have to forcibly tell myself to not freak out over this man’s mouth. He could be a gross old man for Christ’s sake!

“I was watching out for something exciting to happen,” he admits. I can’t help but laugh; a hero waiting for something bad to happen? Especially in New York? That was rich. Spider-Man’s mouth frowns slightly. “What’s so funny?”

“You-” a snort interrupts my sentence and I have to pause to compose myself. “You’re a hero in New York. There’s crime everywhere to be stopped.” He sighs and plops down onto the solid part of the fire escape. I join him, slipping my legs in between the bars of the railings.

I take a closer look at the part of his face I can see and decide that he’s not bad looking. His mouth is thin but he has a strong jawline and a bit of a butt chin. My fingers itch to draw this as well. There’s just something about him that is drawing me in, almost like a magnet. We sit in silence for what could be minutes or hours, the time passing by like water in a stream. Before I realize it, my arm is being held in his hands again, the material of his suit causing goosebumps to appear on my skin.

“Did you draw these?” he asks. I take my arm back from him, somewhat upset that he’d even ask such a question. But I can tell his eyes are focusing on the faded Pikachu and he’s suddenly standing up. “Sorry, I gotta head out! There's a, uh, robbery happening!” He points down the street and I cock my head to the side, confused. “Have a good night!” And with that he swings into the night, leaving an empty feeling in my chest and many questions.

#peter parker #souls uniting #spiderman #marvel #peter parker x oc #phoenix graves #avengers #i love them already #part two #soulmate au

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mariacallous · 5 years

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Ethel’s confidence had grown, and her performance gained in rhythm, color, and bite. To Marge, she caught something that eluded a number of the other Dolly’s: she could play not only Dolly Levi but Dolly Gallagher, the Irish colleen who had married a Jewish man.

“This steamroller suddenly happened to the show,” recalled Marcia Lewis, who played Ernestina Money. “We went from the littlest audiences you could imagine in the St. James Theatre to absolute pandemonium around the block. Ethel taught me how to plant. I used to watch her so closely, and she would find where she wanted to stand - which of course was dead center down front - and you could almost feel her roots being put down through the floor. She looked to the left and the right and the balcony, but that spot man had her there, and that’s where she stayed.”

When Ethel unveiled her Dolly at the St. James Theatre on March 30, 1970, the audience was in a frenzy of anticipation. The moment she made her entrance, pulling down the newspaper she is reading as the trolley car chugs onstage, the entire crowd jumped to its feet for a prolonged ovation. They were all standing again when, in Dolly’s famous red gown and plumed hat, she appeared at the top of the Harmonia Gardens staircase just before launching into “Hello, Dolly!” John Montgomery and David Evans were the two actors positioned at the bottom of the staircase as she descended, singing the number. “She came down the steps and they just wouldn’t stop,” Montgomery remembered. “David Evans was across from me, and we were looking at each other. I was trembling, and David started crying. As the number got going, they screamed and applauded all through it.”

The title number, in fact, played beautifully into the sentiment attached to the occasion; many of the lines were weighted with double meaning. When Ethel sang “IT’S SO NICE TO BE BACK HOME WHERE I BELONG!” the audience erupted into cheers for more than a minute. They had the same response to similar lines, such as “DOLLY WILL NEVER GO AWAY AGAIN!” and “TOMORROW WILL BE BRIGHTER THAN THE GOOD OLD DAYS!” at which the orchestra had to come to a full stop, waiting for the applause to subside.

There was a third standing ovation for her at the finale, one that went on and on. In between, all her numbers were greeted with such ecstatic cheers that some of the opening-night critics complained that they couldn’t make out all the words. Both of the new numbers, especially “Love, Look in My Window,” were enormous hits with the audience; they would have the distinction of being the last songs Ethel would introduce. Taking Lucia Victor’s advice, Ethel smiled while she sang “Love, Look in My Window,” so as to ease the tear-jerking nature of the song. But anyone, friend or fan, who knew of the heartbreak Ethel had experienced in the last decade could hardly have helped being moved to tears when she sang:

Love, look in my window,

Love, knock on my door,

It’s years since you called on me.

How I would love hearing your laughter once more

So if you should ever be in the neighborhood ...

The New York Times responded to Ethel’s return by writing her a series of love letters. Walter Kerr called her voice “exactly as trumpet-clean, exactly as pennywhistle-piercing, exactly as Wurlitzer-wonderful as it always was. Right from the first notes, the first words...you know it’s all still there, dustproof, rustproof, off and aloft and ringing”

Ethel’s presence in Dolly! was like a transfusion for the sagging show.

Describing Ethel Merman taking on Hello, Dolly! 6 years after she had been offered the role when it was first created, in Brian Kellow’s Ethel Merman: A Life

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brattykeith · 6 years

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Fic Excerpt - Sheith Cat Cafe AU

An excerpt from a fic where Shiro is a barista at a cat cafe and Keith is a patron and they’re both disaster gays.

“You still haven’t told me what happened to make him run off like that,” Matt pointed out, carefully assessing Shiro’s expression for a hint of another breakdown. Shiro flinched, and Matt braced himself, but instead Shiro just mournfully slid his cell phone across the counter. Matt took one look at it and inhaled sharply.

“Don’t say it.” Shiro hissed

“Well, shit,” Matt managed to choke out. To his horror, he couldn’t stop the bubble of nervous laughter that escaped his throat. “Shiro, man, I-”

“Shut up,” Shiro hissed out, his cheeks red from more than just crying now. He fixed Matt with a glare.

“I…” Matt looked back down at the photo. “Well,” he managed, before deciding that some things were better left unsaid.

“Okay, Shiro,” Matt said calmly, patting his best friend of many years on the back. Said best friend had his face buried into the crook of his elbow, a cloud of literal angst hovering over his head. Matt was pretty sure nothing was going to change that fact, not even the fluffy foam caricature of a dozing kitten resting on a piping hot mug of something sweet and caffeinated sitting in front of him. Hunk had meekly slid it over to the corner the two of them were occupying as some attempt at comfort.

“It’s not okay,” Shiro half-sobbed, half-whined into his elbow, and Matt had to remind himself that Shiro was his best friend. Literally his best friend. They’d gone through high school and college together, even though Matt was a few years younger. Shiro had been the only one who didn’t look at him and go ‘aren’t you a little too young for Advanced Astrophysics?’. “He hates me now, it’s over, he’s never going to speak to me again!”

“Well,” Matt paused, covering up his lack of a good response with a timid pat on the back. If anyone had asked him who he’d be having the post-not-really-breakup session with it...well, it wouldn’t have been Katie, so he guessed Shiro was it. “I mean, you don’t know that for sure-” He leaned back when Shiro sat straight up.

Shiro, usually a picture of the phrase ‘A Whole Snacc’ had wet, swollen eyes and a red, splotchy face. His white hair was a frazzled mess and he fixed Matt with a glare. His uniform was crinkled; even the cheerful black paw prints dotting his dress shirt and apron looked particularly depressing right now.

“He literally ran out of the cafe, Matt!” Shiro replied sharply, earning a few shocked glances-like the entire cafe hadn’t been emotionally invested in Local Barista and Local Cat/Barista Fanatic’s Korean Drama level budding romance.

Matt slid him a stack of napkins as an apology, which Shiro accepted after a moment. The barista’s expression shifted to something more mournful as he began to clean himself up. Matt slid him another stack of napkins for good measure.

“Don’t say it.” Shiro hissed

“Well, shit,” Matt managed to choke out. To his horror, he couldn’t stop the bubble of nervous laughter that escaped his throat. “Shiro, man, I-”

“Shut up,” Shiro hissed out, his cheeks red from more than just crying now. He fixed Matt with a glare.

“I…” Matt looked back down at the photo. “Well,” he managed, before deciding that some things were better left unsaid.

The photo in question was present on Shiro’s lock screen for the whole world to see. Shiro didn’t even have the decency to keep that sort of thing set to only his wallpaper. It was Cat/Barista Fanatic, as Matt knew him, only because unlike Shiro he had basic observational skills, and no single human being had any reason to visit a cat cafe for over 20 hours in a single week, unless they worked there, much less spend most of those hours staring longingly at one complete trainwreck of a barista.

Cat/Barista Fanatic looked like his day job was for a punk rock band, and his night job was for a K-pop band. He always wore a dark red leather jacket and some variant of a grey/black t-shirt and jeans just tight enough that Shiro got whiplash most days. His hair was black and styled into something vaguely related to a mullet, just long enough to brush down over his shoulders. His blue eyes (Matt only knew they were blue because Shiro liked to wax poetry about them when they were closing up shop) were closed, probably because Cat/Barista Fanatic was sleeping on one of the chaises that littered the cat play area. Tucked into the crook of his neck was Red, an orange tabby with a spicy attitude who had taken a liking to Cat/Barista Fanatic and literally no one else.

It was adorable, and if Shiro and Cat/Barista Fanatic were in an actual relationship, it’d be an ideal phone lock screen photo. However, Shiro and Cat/Barista Fanatic weren’t dating. In fact, Matt would bet money on the total amount of words spoken between the two of them being limited to less than hundred, which was shockingly small considering how much Shiro babbled about the guy the second he walked out the door.

So, that being said, Shiro having a photo of the guy set to his lock screen was, quite frankly, creepy.

“I,” Matt swallowed another bout of laughter at Shiro’s miserable expression. “So, how did he see it?” He asked, deciding the best course of action was to go for the jugular and crack the whole situation wide open. The sooner they got to the center of Shiro’s emotional trauma, the sooner Matt would be able to bail out and drink away the memory of this entire conversation.

“I was walking past him in the cat play area,” Shiro said, sounding like he was explaining how his world was falling apart (accurate). “And I went to bend over to pet Black because she wanted some attention, and my phone fell from my pocket and he just grabbed it and,” Shiro gestured vaguely with his hands, another sniffle escaping his throat. “He didn’t say anything, he just ran out!”

“Aw, come on, Shiro,” Matt looked up to see Hunk looking at the two of them from the other side of the counter. “Run is a strong word. He kinda...speed walked...? Jogged?” Hunk amended after a moment. “Keith used to run on the track team in school, you know, like if he’d been really running I would know.”

There was a long pause as both Matt and Shiro stared at him.

“Keith?” Matt repeated the name in mind horror. Who named their child ‘Keith’? What parent looked at an infant and decided that ‘Keith’ was a fitting name?

“High school?” Shiro said, looking at Hunk with wide eyes. “You went to high school with him?”

“Uh, yeah?” Hunk said, inching away slowly. “Lance, Pidge and I all went to high school with him. He and Lance always got into fights. I think he and Pidge were really close.”

As if on cue, both Shiro and Hunk looked at Matt, who suddenly wished he was an only child.

“Uh,” Matt managed as Shiro turned to face him fully.

“I’m coming over to your house,” Shiro announced firmly.

“Shiro,” Matt said with mild panic, “you can’t...just come over!” They both knew that neither of Matt’s parents would object. Sam and Colleen loved Shiro. When they’d found out that Shiro was gay Matt had been the one who’d been sat down and given the ‘if you’re gay and dating Shiro we completely support you talk’. If anything Matt’s parents had been completely heartbroken by Matt’s bold declaration of heterosexuality.

Shiro ignored him. “I get off at six. I’ll probably be there around 6:30 if traffic’s alright.”

“Shiro, please” Matt pleaded now. His entire family didn’t have to get involved with this trainwreck of a love affair.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” Shiro said firmly, straightening out out his shirt.

#sheith #cat cafe au #prompts

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''degrade'' by 3teeth

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