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beyondxmeasure · 1 year

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2022: A Year In Review

Thanks for tagging me @larrysballetslippers @thinlinez @brightgolden @kingsofeverything and @larrieblr

I know this has been going around a lot and most people have done it already so I’m not going to tag anyone but if you see this and want to have a go at it please consider yourself tagged! Id love to see what goals you have for the year.

✨ Let Your Heart Be Light 59K WIP | Teen+ | Harry/Louis Louis Tomlinson, a self-proclaimed holiday-hater, loses his job two weeks before Christmas. Broke and desperate to see his family back home in England, he takes the only job left at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. Harry is an unconventional mall Santa, the youngest one they’ve had in years, but with as much holiday spirit as any other seasoned Saint Nick. He’s determined to un-Grinch the new guy in Santa’s Village if it takes until Christmas, then he finds out the devastating reason Louis has lost his Christmas cheer. Will Harry be just the thing Louis needs to help him get his sparkle back?

Featuring Liam as the manager at Santa's Village, Niall as an easy-going Irish elf and Harry's best friend, grumpy Grinch Louis, his best friend Zayn and one matchmaking Mrs. Claus.

A 2022 Advent Fic

✨ Lazy Days and Pancakes For Two 4K | Teen+ | Harry/Louis They haven't seen each other in eighteen days. What better way to spend a much-needed tour break than having a lazy day watching shit TV and having breakfast in bed with your husband.

✨ I Gave Up Hope and Found You Instead 14K | Teen+ | Harry/Louis The entire village warned him not to go. It was an odd-numbered day, after all. Still, the peculiar boy from Eroda set sail and, without knowing it, headed straight into the OFMD universe. While being held captive aboard the pirate ship Revenge, the boy meets a fisherman named Louis.

Tasked by the captain to teach the reluctant boy to fish, Louis struggles to hide his frustration and hold his tongue. As difficult as it is to deal with this clumsy stranger, the skilled fisherman had worse assignments and more unpleasant partners, but none of them with a smile as bright as this peculiar boy had. A moment of unexpected distress catches them off guard, and both soon find out it’s much easier to catch feelings than fish.

OR: Where the Adore You music video ends and the Our Flag Means Death story begins.

✨ I Was Born Like This, Don't Even Gotta Try 2K | E | Harry/Louis Louis and Harry return home after a long day of promo events and cocktail parties. They’re both exhausted, but that doesn’t stop Louis from keeping a promise he made to Harry in the limo earlier that night.

A certain geometric Gucci suit might have played a part in helping Louis’ keep that promise.

Thank you to everyone who's read my writing, shared my fic posts, left kudos or comments. All of your interaction has meant so much! -xx 💙 Cy

2022: A Year In Review (My Annual Writing Self-Evaluation) ...below the cut...

Number of stories posted this year: 4

Word count posted this year: 78,815

Stories with the most… Kudos: I Was Born Like This, Don’t Even Gotta Try

Comment Threads: Let Your Heart Be Light

Bookmarks: Let Your Heart Be Light

Work you are most proud of (and why): Let Your Heart Be Light Because other than the time spent outlining, this fic was started and finished in two months (except for the last 3 chapters, still to come). That’s the fastest I’ve written/edited/posted anything. I’m proud of my ability to let go of my perfectionist tendencies, that usually keep me editing and polishing a fic long after it is written. Due to the nature of the posting schedule (advent fic- 1 chapter a day for December) I didn’t have that luxury. I am still just as proud, if not more so, of this writing in general without having the time to dote over it as much. I also dealt with some heavier topics and am so happy with how it came out. It’s sentimental and sad at times, while still being light and fun. I did exactly what I set out to do and am very proud of the result.

Work you are least proud of (and why): I Gave Up Hope Because I had so many ideas for how I wanted this to go, and in the end, I ran out of time to make it what I wanted it to be. While I love this fic and am still very proud of it for so many reasons… the crossover element, writing something out of my comfort zone (fantasy/pirate fic), to name a couple, I feel like I missed the mark of what I set out to do. But there’s always room to add to it.

A favorite excerpt of your writing: Taken from chapter four of Let Your Heart Be Light

Harry eases back into his chair and waits patiently for Ginny to start again. She goes to fetch a vintage-looking suitcase with a large red bow on it that sits beneath the tree they just decorated that afternoon. Harry had urged her to give it time, allowing her space to grieve, not wanting her to push herself too much. She insisted, saying that’s what he would’ve wanted, determined not to turn Paul’s favorite time of the year into a time for pity and sorrow. The twinkling lights and the smell of fresh pine throughout the parlor made it feel like he wasn’t that far away.

Ginny pushes the cards off to the side and places the weathered case in front of Harry.

“What’s this?” He wonders, running his hands over the distressed leather bindings and tarnished brass buckles.

“It’s for you, darling. Open it.” Ginny cups Harry’s cheek, caressing gently with her thumb, eyes shining with unshed tears as she nods, encouraging him with a tender smile. “Go ahead, dear.”

Ginny sits down cautiously, waiting with bated breath for Harry to flip the buckles open to reveal what’s inside. Harry takes a deep breath, hands shaky with anticipation. He has a pretty good idea of what's inside, and he’s not sure he can keep his composure if he’s right. Slowly, he unlatches first the left then the right side, flick… flick… The hinges creak as he opens it with care. Layers of deep red velvet trimmed with snow white fur lay neatly folded inside, all wrapped with a black leather belt and matching boots adorned with shiny gold buckles.

Harry feels his eyes flood with tears as he lets out a shaky breath. “Ginny, no. I can’t—You can’t give this away. Paul wouldn’t—”

It’s Ginny’s reassuring hand over Harry’s now. “I’m not giving it away, sweetheart. I’m passing it down. Paul asked me to. He wanted you to have it.”

“What?” Harry utters in disbelief. “Why me?”

“It’s your turn, now.”

“What? No! I couldn’t. I don’t even know how—”

“You have the heart for it, dear, and Christmas spirit in abundance. That’s all that really matters.”

“But it’s too soon. For you, I mean, like, we couldn’t—oh my god. Ginny? Do you mean? You want me to—”

She nods enthusiastically, tears falling from her eyes just as much as Harry. “I said yes to him, of course, right away, but buried the thought of it. Because, well, you know—I just couldn’t imagine even thinking of going through with it this year. But the more I think about it, I think the only way I could go through with it again, is if I do it with you. I can’t even think about playing Mrs. Claus to some complete stranger. It just wouldn’t feel right. But you. You, my dear, would be perfect.”

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely!” Ginny holds out her arms, inviting Harry into her warm embrace. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else filling my Paul’s boots better than you.”

Harry turns the boots over to find the number ten embossed on the bottom of the arch. “They’re my size,” he declares with a smile and a dry laugh, wiping his eyes, still in shock as he looks over the contents of the suitcase in awe. “I guess maybe I could fill Paul’s boots, couldn’t I?”

“You sure can, my dear. Go, try it on!” A glint of delight flashes in her eyes and, with her approval, Harry is up in a flash, eager to get into the legendary red suit. “Oh, here, look at this.” Ginny lifts the jacket, pulling back the inside lapel to reveal a monogram with the letters PA hand sewn inside a red heart border. “See, now he’ll always be with you. Never forgotten.”

Share or describe a favorite review you received: @berzerkshires left the following comment on Let Your Heart Be Light

I have finally got a chance to catch up. And my heavens! The emotions of this story! So wonderfully capturing the ups and downs of the holiday season through all your characters. So heartbreaking and hopeful all at once. So intriguing and festive all together. You’ve got me hanging on the edge of my seat for the true Christmas spirit.

Such kind words… but I’ve also gotten so many other wonderful comments from people who’ve had similar experiences with grief and loss and how my fic helped get them through a difficult time. That, to me, is the ultimate compliment. To be the light in someone’s otherwise dark day is a lovely thing and exactly why I wrote this story.

A time when writing was really, really hard: Completing my Eroda Fic Fest fic was pretty tough. I had a lot of writer’s block and got stuck so many times I really thought I would not complete it on time. Also, the end of this year was tough. I let the year get away from me and while I had it completely outlined for months; I didn’t start writing my Advent fic until November. It became a scramble to complete it on time to be ready for December 1st, which didn’t happen. I could only get about half of the chapters written ahead, and the rest had to be written on the fly the day before or day-of posting. Adding to that, the emotional toll of my grandmother losing her battle with Alzheimer’s. All that being said, I am incredibly proud of myself for pushing through. While I still have the last three chapters to post, I wrote and posted 60K words in less than two months, and it’s some of my favorite work I’ve written thus far.

How did you grow as a writer this year?: While I didn’t post as much on Ao3 as in previous years or that I might have set out to do, I wrote quite a lot. I completed 4 fics but also made a lot of genuine progress with a few WIPs that were holdouts from last year. I also listened to myself a lot more—only writing when I really wanted to, not over-committing to too many fic fests or holding myself to unreachable expectations. I enjoyed writing a lot more without all the pressure I usually put on myself. I don't know if I'd call this growth, but I hit a pretty cool milestone... Twisted Fate reached 500 kudos! ❤️ That's a first for me. I'm still shocked at how popular that one is.

How do you hope to grow next year?: I'd like to step out of my comfort zone and try podficcing. I’ve been tossing around the idea to turn a fic or two of mine into one. So we shall see. Otherwise I have small goals… complete the WIPs I've been dragging my feet on, stay consistent with my writing and get better at interacting with my mutuals/responding to tags, etc...

Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year?: Yes! A lot of my real life made its way into Let Your Heart Be Light. A reimagining of a friend’s home break-in became a major plot point in the story. I also used my Nana as an inspiration for the characters of Ginny and Louis Nan. A few of my own memories from Christmases past made their way into the fic as well.

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers?: I don’t have much wisdom to impart but from my experience this past year of slowing down and just writing at my own pace more I would say forget about the pressure from outside sources, or even your own self-imposed pressures and just write… for the fun of it, for the escape, for the release… whatever. Just write. Don’t let anything hold you back. Whether you think you’re not good enough, experienced enough, fast enough, insert ___ enough. You improve the more you do it. Step out of your comfort zone, challenge yourself… but always write for yourself first, not for other readers, deadlines or anything else. If you’re writing something you enjoy, others will enjoy it too and if they don’t, then fuck ‘em.

Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year?: I’m dying to finish (fxckn finally!) the second part to my Arcades & Lemonade fic… follow up to I Know You Rider. It’s been in the works for far too long, was supposed to be my Big Bang fic last year, but it keeps getting pushed to the back burner for various reasons. Also, my bootcamp/fitness instructor Harry fic--- Also been a drawn out WIP for some time. A Twisted Fate epilogue and few others. I’ve also got my outline started for my 2023 advent fic, but first things first, I need to finish the last three chapters for this year’s advent fic. That should keep me busy enough, but I’m sure I will come up with some other new ideas that will derail me along the way, per usual! LOL. The rest of my goals for 2023 are here...

#2022 year in review #my year in writing #2022 writing evaluation #self evaluation #2022 recap #tag games #long post #cyantific writes

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ao3commentoftheday · 3 years

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man, this was an awesome fic, and the art is one of the best i’ve seen, i just adore the style and the colors. i really loved the historical/tour parts, im not usually interested in history but this really felt like visiting a museum of sorts, and you peppered in enough freaky death facts to keep it interesting (lol). seriously, the case was really cool, technically run of the mill and yet somehow feeling fresh, maybe because of the setting or your writing, but it was really creative. when brian got possessed, i didnt see that coming at all! im glad elaine and dave survived cause they were wholesome, actual couple goals, visiting haunted locations with your significant other in your elderly age. i loved how sneaky dean was in the cell, getting roger to reveal some crucial facts, i liked the idea itself - sam and dean going to see ghosts off the clock lol and being the experts, that’s always something i enjoyed. i’ve visited a titanic remake of… sorts, anyway ive seen some boat engines and giant machinery rooms and this really brought me back. but what REALLY sold this fic for me was the brother banter bc you nailed it. some lines even made me laugh, and sam and dean were so canon like it was comforting to read about them, like it was an actual episode from their life. i loved how dean minded sam’s past trauma and how he joked but also did his best, in a dean way, to let sam know things were gonna be ok. i loved the ending with sam going to the hospital, and the ‘big guns’ being dean saying he’s not feeling so well himself - sdkjfdkm those two are ending me, stuck in an endless cycle of worrying about each other but ignoring their own issues. the hospital scene at the end was very soothing and sweet and overall it was just amazing, a great read with some unexpected (for me!) brother bonding and after-hunt scenes that we dont get to see on the show! :)

This comment was left over half a year ago and I still come back to it whenever I need a pick-me-up. I’ve written Supernatural stuff for a while, but I did it in a different genre than usual, for a bang/challenge, and in a completely new setting, so I was nervous about posting it and having it come across correctly. This comment (and the other lovely ones) got rid of all my worries. I can’t thank people like this enough for taking the time to mention all their thoughts and little things they enjoyed about it, it means so much.

At the same time, to readers who may be intimidated by a comment of this length, know that I cherish readers that also leave little heart emojis, or a list of different emoticon faces as reactions to what happened in the chapters. People that leave a 'wow’ or a 'bro what did you do?!’ make me smile. I adore kudos. I appreciate people taking the time to read anything I put into the universe. Sending big thanks to all the readers out there, you guys make all this creating that much more worth it!

#ao3commentoftheday #submission

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stubbornjerk · 3 years

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Why people keep telling you to block them if you support Pholo (Penumbra Edition)

Or: why jitterbug-juno really deactivated

I love when people categorize this as fandom wank. Really makes you feel like you’re putting the onus on either side of the conversation.

I’m making this post not because I want to stir up spoiled milk, but because I want it out there that this wasn’t a purity culture war.

The TL;DR version of this is that fans of color tried to tell Rab (prev. jitterbug-juno) not to post her Omegaverse (or A/B/O) fic. And instead of taking the L, she posted it on Ao3 and deactivated.

But, if you want context, well, buckle in. CW for mentions of racism and transphobia.

What did jitterbug-juno do?

Before I get into this I do want it out there that I will not be linking Rab’s fic, but I will show you this screenshot of the summary of it.

[ID: It is a screenshot of a fic, “As You Are” by Pholo.

Summary: Peter can hide his scent glands behind cologne; makeup; concealer pads. He can quash his heats with suppressants. He can divert the urge to nest and fawn.

But he can’t feign another gender’s subvocals. He lacks the anatomical capacity. Mag taught him to distract from his silence with fast, flashy words. For longer heists he relies on social convention. Traumatic mutism is uncommon, but remarked upon by enough war vets and soap operas to be widely recognized. Peter’s marks assume he’s been harmed long before they assume he’s a closeted omega. It would take quite the backwater brute to ask why he doesn’t murmur or chuff or growl.

On the 'Blanche there are the usual furtive glances. Juno makes clear to Peter that should he ever want “to talk about what happened,” he’ll be there to listen. The gesture annoys Peter more than comforts him.

‘Nothing happened,’ he wants to scream. ‘There’s nothing to talk about!’

There are 14 comments, 85 kudos, and 11 bookmarks /end]

You decide what you’re doing with that information, but honestly, I’d rather you don’t give it anymore engagement than it deserves.

There was a period earlier this June (yes, even though it’s only the 10th, at time of writing) when Rab was posting snippets of the aforementioned fic on her blog and tagging it appropriately, putting it in the attention of pretty much the entire Penumbra fandom.

What’s Omegaverse or a/b/o and why is everyone so against Rab for it

If you know what Omegaverse is, I don’t have to tell you why it’s controversial. If you don’t know what Omegaverse is, well, Fanlore said it best:

a kink trope wherein some or all people have defined biological roles based on a hierarchical system, with the terms originating from animal behaviour research. There may be werewolf, knotting, or other animalistic elements involved, or the characters may be otherwise purely human.

The term is generally written with slashes (a/b/o). Many fans, particularly ones from Australia and New Zealand, are uncomfortable seeing the term without slashes because it is also an Australian slur for aboriginal people.

I won’t get into the history or the heaps and tons of other discourses (mostly about fictional male pregnancy, homophobia, transphobia, sexual assault, etc.) that go on within that. We’re here specifically on Rab v. Penumbra fans of color and we’re staying there.

Anyone who’s been in Penumbra enough to realize that everyone draws the Junoverse characters in a certain way knows that a) Juno is black, b) Nureyev is Asian, and c) as a fan you have to be aware of what you’re subjecting or saying about either of them because of the political repercussions that come with it.

And despite that, Rab proceeded to write Peter Nureyev, a gender nonconforming gay Asian male character that is widely headcanon’d as trans, into a fic using a kink trope that relies heavily on animal behavior.

Unlike most people new to fandom, Rab is aware of what Omegaverse is and is very much white. She is (and if she isn’t, should be) aware of the racist undertones that writing him in would get.

I couldn’t get a screenshot of what snippets Rab was sending out into the ether, seeing as a majority of my friends would rather not have seen any at all (I have all of the usual tags blocked so I wouldn’t have seen it either way), but needless to say, Rab got attention for it. Both positive and negative.

Anne (@hopeless-eccentric) even posted a satirical fic, in the odds that Rab was just writing this thing to be “the first” to write Omegaverse fic in the Penumbra tags.

But, I’m assuming more than one fan of color came into Rab’s inbox and messaged her about it, but someone I know (who would like to remain anonymous) was gracious enough to take a screenshot before he sent his in and let me use it for this post:

[ID: A message to jitterbug-juno about to be sent by a sender whose name is censored with a black bar. His messages says:

“as someone who is a person of color i think the nature of the fic you are writing right now is extremely racist and attributing animal characteristics to lgbt people of color is not at all appropriate, especially when you are someone who is white. i have to ask you to not publish this fic and to reflect as to why you would want to write this in the first place, these tropes are extremely harmful and”

There are 33 characters left to write into the message. /end]

I can’t speak for whoever else sent asks about the fic she was writing. If anyone was actually not-so-gentle with her, well, minorities don’t really owe it to you to be gentle about what they can tell is bigotry-tinged behavior.

But, the message was clear: this is different from your garden variety, lily white straight male character m/m kink fantasy. This is an actual queer Asian character that a lot of queer Asian people feel attached do. Do not post the fic.

What happened next: the beginning of the end

The next morning, I woke up to most of my friends being frustrated by this post on Rab’s account:

[ID: Dated 5 June, a post by jitterbug-juno:

“Gonna leave the fandom for a while. Wishing you all well.”

The tags say the following: not sure if i’ll be back, thank you so much to everybody who’s read my fics, and who’s sent asks or engaged with my art or any of that, you’re amazing and I’m sending love /end]

That... was not what fans of color wanted, but it was definitely an action they took. Some celebrated, as they were very much wary of Rab for having caused much of the same category of drama in fandoms like Voltron: Legendary Defenders and Warrior Cats. This also meant that she was probably not going to post the fic either.

Some, myself included, were relatively pissed, as they’d wanted even just the measly bit of accountability. An apology or an acknowledgement of having been called out in private and that they’ll take time to consider why. But instead we got Rab leaving in the face of fans of color telling her not to post her Omegaverse fic.

Well. The next day...

[ID: Dated 6 June. A post by jitterbug-juno titled, “Well... that was short-lived”

“I gave the situation a lot of thought yesterday. The reaction to my omegaverse previews made me figure I should leave the fandom. It seemed like the safest option.

But you know what?

Hell.

I don’t want to leave. The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space.

Thank you to everyone who sent messages yesterday. I shouldn’t have made that post about leaving. It was really reactionary. I’m okay and I appreciate your support so much.

(bolded on the post) To those who are angry and uncomfortable with me: Please block me. If you’re going to talk about this fic on Tumblr and Twitter– and this may sound odd– PLEASE NAME ME as Jitterbug-juno or Pholo. Don’t vague me. That way people who don’t want to see this discourse can add my name to their block lists.“ /end]

That certainly was short-lived, she wasn’t kidding.

This got a lot of outrage. Again, the fic is up on Ao3 and she has not taken it down. A lot of POC were pissed and I didn’t see a single fan of color actively support what she was doing, at least, not in my friend group. Everyone started making those posts to block them if you liked the fic or Rab’s content in general, in accordance to what Rab wanted.

Perseus (@mraudiodrama) noticed/pointed out that Rab deleted the part where she said she spoke to several POC about releasing her fic, as well as the part where she said she refused to be chased out of the fandom. This was an incredibly pointed detail to edit out, according to some.

[ID: A screenshot of jitterbug-juno's last post taken 11:00PM. Much of it is the same except the following bolded words are removed: "The fic discusses the tropes of omegaverse and I spoke to several POC on Twitter, and I’m going to post it with plenty of tags so people can avoid it if they wish. I’m not going to be chased out of this space." /end]

That same day, Rab deleted her blog. I actually caught this one on tape, believe it or not.

[ID: A screen recording taken at 12:01 PM of someone scrolling down jitterbug-juno's account. The posts and asks about Omegaverse and her post about leaving and coming back are conspicuously absent. /end]

Initially, I thought she deleted all mentions of it. I wanted to see firsthand if the rumors about her deleting portions of it were true. If she added things where she was saying that she wanted to write it because she was autistic and wanted Nureyev to be autistic too, regardless of the numerous QPOC telling her not to do it.

Instead, it turned out, she deleted her blog.

And now, we're here. The fic is still up. Her blog is down. Rab's public Twitter account @nataclinn is quiet about this. Her @cushfuddled Twitter account is on private after her run-in with the Warrior Cats fandom, according to a friend. And her Tumblr @cushfuddled account has nothing but memes.

Again, I didn't make this post to stir up drama. I wasn't even obsessively making this post as a call-out because she isn't in the fandom anymore. I just want it out there that this isn't a purity culture thing that got out of hand in a fandom as niche as Penumbra. This was a case of someone being called out and failing to acknowledge it before running away. And I want all that out of the way before I say:

If you are on Rab's side of this debacle, I, a queer person of color, want nothing to do with you either.

#the penumbra fandom #jitterbug-juno #pholo #racism #white drama #im not tagging this as fandom drama or fandom wank because that erases the fact #that this was legitimate criticism of a white person #the penumbra podcast #junoverse #i put it in a readmore so its not gonna clog up much #but if anyone doesnt want me to tag this w the fandom tags i'll remove it #once again though this is the furthest thing from anti/proship discourse

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myevilmouse · 2 years

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Hiii, if you're still doing it maybe ☀️ and 🤔 for the ask game?

Hi!!!! Thank you so much for the asks! I love asks and December was an absolutely insane month for me so I neglected this gift of an ask for too long, many apologies!

☀️ Has anyone ever left you a comment that made your day? What did it say?

This happens ALL THE TIME. Really any comment makes my day--some even make my week or month! Comments are love, that is the truth, and whether they are emojis, keysmashes, or long detailed explanations and feedback on the reader's thoughts, I really adore them all. I admit I get huge serotonin rushes when people pull out specific things they like and let me know, in particular, or a double comment, saying they are rereading an old fic. What a lovely compliment ❤ I also love hearing about real life moments like "I shrieked out loud when X happened" or "everyone on the train thinks i'm insane for laughing while reading this". It's a great reminder that our readers are REAL and out there enjoying something we put into the internet ether...

I am sure not all fanfic writers are like this, but for me, any comment is an excuse to talk about my story! So of course I want to reply and engage and tell you how much I love what you said, or what I was thinking when I wrote that tidbit you extracted, or anything like that! It's a chance to revisit the fic, the process, and also wonderful to know that someone enjoyed reading so much they took a moment to leave that ❤ or those sentences about how they liked it.

I admit one comment came to mind when I read this ask from you, and I don't want to ID the reader in case they aren't comfortable with that, but on one of my fics, which was really a niche sort of story, I got a comment that said:

and so of course that just lit up my life. But my point is, they all do! Comments are gifts and love and I adore every single one of them I've ever gotten! Readers have the power to bring so much joy with just a note. Thank you so much to any reader who ever left me a comment or kudo, you give life 😘

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

This is a really interesting question! I would absolutely love to write a film noir-esque hard-boiled dark and femme fatale kinda story but I have zero idea how I would pull it off without it being too much a parody. Like a REAL film noir vibe. I think Luke/Mara would be perfect for that setup but I don’t have confidence at the moment to tackle it without edging into satire or badfic territory... mmmm. Maybe even throw an evil alien Imperial in the mix and we’d get:

hahah maybe someday!

Thank you so much for the asks @loth-lisa and for your patience before I answered! I love getting asks from you! 💙😘🥂

#myfic #comments are love #I love you all #asks #i like asks #fandom friends #fandom life #film noir #fanfic is for fun #thank you!

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twopoppies · 2 years

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Hello Gina how are you?

Wanted some advice. What do you do when your fic fails? Not that yours have ever failed I love every single one of your fics and the way you flawlessly describe things

I started writing my fic in August and it isn't that good tbh but its not bad per se

Its not getting many hits or kudos and barely any comments and I keep seeing fics recently written that have much more kudos and comments and I get sorta disheartened

I haven't updated since December because I have no motivation to write any further, and I'm almost at the end of my fic. Only a few more chapters are left. Even worse, I have left the readers on a cliffhanger (I'm the worst, I know)

So......any advice you could give me maybe? Great work with the account by the way, lots of love xx

Hi sugar. I honestly think a lot of people don’t read WIPs, so it may have more to do with that than with the quality of your fic. And this fandom relies so much on word of mouth for fic recs, so the “right people” may just not know about your fic yet. I’m sorry you’re feeling disheartened though.

I suppose you could try getting a beta to read it and give you some tips/concrit to see if it actually is the fic itself. If it’s nearly done, I’d encourage you to finish it so you’re happy with it and then try making a new fic post for it and promote it as a complete fic. Use the fic promo squad post in my bio to see people who’ve offered to help boost fic, message some fic rec blogs if you know of any, and ask them to boost your post.

Most of all, don’t let a lack of engagement stop you from creating. ID its a story you need to tell, then you need to do it regardless of whether 5 people read it or 5 million. I know it’s hard to keep pushing on when you don’t feel appreciated, though. Sending you some extra love 💗

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lilydalexf · 3 years

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Tabula Rasa

Tabula Rasa has 8 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files fics at AO3 and her website. She writes Mulder and Scully in a very lovely way. I've recced 3 of my favorites of her fics here before: Bird in Snow, Fall: East on M St, and Skuamorph. Big thanks to Tabula Rasa for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

I'm always extremely pleasantly surprised to get kudos (or, very rarely, a comment) on my old fic, but I'm always happy to see it! I did post them all (I think) to AO3. I'm not surprised people are still reading fic, though. It's an iconic show and now with streaming, it's really easy to watch older shows and natural to want fic about them!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

XF was my first fandom, definitely my first online fandom, and so it will always have a special place in my heart. Also... I had a great time! I stumbled upon and joined the Scullyfic email list by accident, but it was the best thing I could have done. I learned a lot about how to be a writer and how to be in fandom, and those lessons are still important to me. Foundational. Also, in terms of modern fandom drama, XF was more low-key on the drama (although it didn't seem like it at the time!). But I learned something that's always served me well: find like-minded people, and hang out with them. Don't worry about the rest.

Also... you can't control the show, but you kind of can control the canon.

Because of Scully, I ended up taking a forensic anthropology class in university-- and now I have a Master's in a forensic science! Part of the Scully Effect, and proud of it!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Definitely mostly email list! I never really got the hang of message boards. Posting fic was exhausting, and tbh I never figured out how to work Ephemeral. I checked it every day, though! I loved, after a new episode, everyone sending in their thoughts and reading everyone's experiences together. Fandom was a lot more work back then, tbh!

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

That fic can be just as good, or better, than traditionally published works. There are works of XF fic that have stuck with me for years now, far more than some books I've read. That fan writers can know the characters better than the show writers. The fandom in general was really smart, and mostly more adult than me (I joined fandom when I went away to college, so I always felt at the younger end of the scale. That was good though!).

Also, my first time reading and writing porn. Not gonna lie, I was shocked the first time I accidentally read smut. But I adjusted fast. lol

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was still a kid (now we would say preteen) when the show premiered- I think in middle school. But I was already into ghosts, aliens, monsters, solving mysteries, and I'd already imprinted on the dynamic thanks to Square One (really)! I was also just old enough to start developing celebrity crushes. Hilariously, I did not twig to the fact that I'm bisexual the entire time I was in XF fandom, despite having enormous crushes on BOTH Mulder and Scully. Ahhhh!

Also, my whole family was into the show, but I was definitely the one with the hyperfixation. I used to take notes and record the episodes as I watched. It just had the right stuff and hit at the right time. And I've always been obsessive.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

As a kid I also really liked Star Trek, and someone had given my dad a book about the history of Star Trek, which I read. This included mentions of fandom and fanfic. As soon as I had a private-- and perhaps more importantly fast-- internet connection (in college), I went looking for XF fanfic, and that was that. Hooked immediately. Also I shipped them A LOT so that's what I went looking for.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

I tend to not go back to a fandom once I have a new fandom, so I wouldn't say I'm in it. I did hang around the edges for the revival, of course, because I wanted to experience that with the same people, but since the revival was mostly not that great (with a few exceptions), I didn't get pulled back into it. But I still think of the people I knew in the fandom a lot, and always hope they're doing well.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I've never left fandom, and I've been in a BUNCH: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Bandom, Supernatural, now CQL/The Untamed and other Chinese-media fandoms, with many smaller ones in between or on the side. I feel like at their core fandoms tend to be similar, although where you host the fandom makes a big difference: Livejournal, tumblr, twitter. I think that because fandoms now tend to be bigger and more diverse (which is good) there tends to be more wank (which is bad). In some of them I was close to a group of people, some of them not. Honestly the best thing is when someone you know from an old fandom is in your new fandom. It's so much fun. I have really good friends thanks to fandom, and I've had them for YEARS. Like. 15 years.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

I tend to focus more on ships than characters, but some of my all-time favs: Scully, Hermione, Sirius Black, Castiel, Lan Wangji, Xie Lian. That's just fandom-oriented ones, otherwise we'd be here all day. :D

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I don't often rewatch episodes any more, although if I come across an ep on tv I might. I definitely still think about them though! For example, I'm a teacher now, and just a couple weeks ago one of my colleagues mentioned he'd heard the students saying they shipped two of their classmates, and he was like "Ship? I don't get it" and I was like "HOO BOY, do I have a story for you!" And I explained how shipping came from XF fandom, and why. That was fun. I definitely still think about Mulder and Scully too-- I mean, they're cultural touchstones, so they do come up sometimes in greater pop culture. Also, I was in Hannibal fandom for a while, and Gillian Anderson is still The Best.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I haven't read XF fic in years, even the ones I remember as being really significant/important to me. I still have my all-time favs saved on an external HD though! Fic in another fandom- every day lol.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Blinded by White Light by DashaK has stuck with me. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the Ruby-Throated Warbler by I forget I'm so sorry -- that's lasted as my ideal post-canon MSR and as an interesting and different way to tell a story. [Lilydale note: It’s by rah.] I was always thrilled to see fic by Brandon, JET, MaybeAmanda, Syntax6... and, frankly, everyone on the Scullyfic/ Emuse list. So many talented people in that fandom!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Things Outside, which is the only thing I've ever written based on a dream, and I'm really satisfied with it. It was hard to write but so much fun to revel in the weirdness. I always kind of wanted to write more because I know a lot more about the situation, but otoh, I like the open, ambiguous ending (usually I am very HEA).

In other fandoms, King & Country in bandom (MCR) and in Supernatural I'm very proud of Hope and Clay. I struggle to write casefics even though I love to read them, but that one really worked out.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I don't think I'll ever write something new. There is an old fic that may be done but it was smut so I was too shy to post it at the time. In theory if I find it and it's decent, I could post it!

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I do! I write fic very slowly, but I do write still! I have a million ideas for stories, but I'm so slow at the actual writing part.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

I usually take a jumping-off point from canon, or of course, something I need to fix or expand on. Or sometimes I start telling myself a story as I fall asleep and the idea grabs me long enough I can manage to write it.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I was getting into fandom and realized people didn't use their real names. I flipped through my history book looking for inspiration, and decided tabula rasa was a great name for a writer. I tend to add an X because it's rare to get "tabularasa" as a username, and the X is indeed for X-Files (so I'm something like tabulaxrasa most places). I usually go by Tabula Rasa or Tab, though. And I still use it because 1) it IS a great name for a writer; and 2) it's not fandom-specific so I can keep it in every fandom.

I identify with it so much I have answered to this name in class (oops). I have a "Tab" t-shirt (as in the soda, but I have worn it to Comic-Con for ease of ID-- better than a nametag!). And my mom got me a necklace with a "tab" typewriter key as a charm, which I adore. Yes, I have accidental merch of myself.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

As you can tell from the above, my family knows (my family being my parents and sister). They are supportive! I think my mom read a couple stories? But obviously she has to know the fandom to get it... I got my sister into fic, and we even wrote a couple fics together (in Gundam Wing). She's a lot more selective about fandoms, but she's joined fandoms on her own, too. She's just not in one constantly, like me. :p

I tend not to tell not-online friends unless I have felt them out and know they're super fannish, or they bring it up first.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Most of my old fic is now on AO3 and I hang out on twitter a lot, @tabula_x_rasa

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I'm really glad people are still in this fandom! It will always be so important to me. Thank you Lilydale, for this nostalgia trip!

(Posted by Lilydale on March 30, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #tabula rosa

40 notes · View notes

succubusphan · 3 years

Text

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining - CHAPTER 1

Summary: Dan meets Phil at the lowest moment in his life and is immediately enchanted by him, but nobody is perfect - not even those with good intentions and a kind heart.

This is the story of two imperfect people trying to do their best, to find love and strive in life. They gravitate towards each other at every turn, sometimes dancing in harmony, other times colliding.

Rating: E

Tags: strangers to friends, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Break Up, they were roommates, Cheating, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, non youtuber au, Angst with a Happy Ending, there was only one bed, ok there was more than one bed but one was very very bad, cuddling for warmth, Stranded, coworkers, Jealousy, toxic relationship (not dan and Phil), everybody makes mistakes, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, alpha phil, omega dan, lots of character development for everyone, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Oral Sex, deep throating, Shower Sex, very slight D/s dynamics, power struggle, you'll want to kill them both at some point and me too, but the end is very very worth it, Happy ending.

Word Count: 71k total, 5.5k for this chapter

A/n: This story was written for the @oldschoolpbb and it's my 100th fic (#spon). Thank you to my team! @schnaf for making the art and being my knight in shining armour as a beta, and going over the fic a million times, always encouraging me and being overall hilarious. Thank you to Mai for being a last-minute beta and providing an external analysis of the story that was incredibly helpful. And thank you @thottydan for reading and for your input.

Please, read, enjoy, kudo, comment, like, and above all share, share, share. I am but a small writer and this is my biggest project by far.

UPDATES EVERY DAY UNTIL IT'S FINISHED (THE LAST CHAPTER WILL BE POSTED ON MAY 2ND).

This story is influenced by music at every turn so make sure you check out the Spotify Playlist.

Read on ao3 | ART LINK

Dan sat on his bed, furiously typing on his laptop, tears streaming down his face as he poured his heart out to his closest friend - to his only friend. Three years of his life wasted on an absolute bastard. Dan reached for the tissue box on his bedside table and pulled out a few, blowing his nose and discarding them in the rubbish bin he had dragged close to avoid getting up every few minutes.

His computer dinged with another message from Bryony. “Love, you can’t keep blaming yourself for this. It’s time to place the blame on him. He chose to cheat on you. That’s on him. Fuck him.”

“I know that deep down, but why does this always happen to me? Am I not worthy of love? What’s wrong with me?” Dan typed back. “I’m so fucking tired of this. I just want it to be fucking over.”

Dan saw Bryony typing, pausing, then typing again. Another wave of sorrow hit him and he started to sob - again. Every time he thought he had no tears left or that he had calmed down enough to keep his emotions in check, he found that he’d been wrong, starting the cycle all over again. He groaned when he saw his phone light up and vibrate with an incoming call, he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, but when he read the caller id he decided to take it. “He-hello?” He said, barely managing to get the word out between the sniffles.

“Listen to me, Alex ain’t shit. Fuck him, FUCK HIM to hell and back. I’m picking you up. Start packing, you are leaving that flat tonight,” Bryony spat, she sounded mad with rage.

Dan smiled through the tears. “O-ok. What should I take?”

“Any of your stuff that you want to keep, especially anything that is of value - and clothes. Use your luggage, I’m bringing mine. We are moving you out. Is he there?”

Dan looked around him, to the mess that was his bedroom - their bedroom. “No, he’s working late again,” he said and started sobbing when he realised what an idiot he’d been. Alex had probably never worked late. He was with her. They were surely laughing at his stupidity together.

Bryony huffed, her silence made Dan think that she had reached the same conclusion but was holding her tongue for his benefit. “I’m about to get in the taxi - nhg oof! - so start gathering your stuff. Don’t worry, I’ll help.” The sound of the suitcase hitting each step on the stair echoed as she went down accompanied by the little pants she gave before the front door of the building closed loudly. “Whoops,” she laughed. “Oh hi, thank you. Phew.” Dan heard the trunk of the taxi close before she slammed the door a bit too hard. “Ok, I’m on my way. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Thanks, Bry. I love you so much,” Dan said with a trembling voice.

“You too, love,” she said, disconnecting the call.

Dan had to wipe a few more tears from his eyes. The sheer gratitude and love he felt for Bryony at that moment left him highly emotional, but at least this time it was for a different reason.

He put his phone down and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he closed his eyes and tried to ground himself, to focus only on the moment and the task at hand. He tried to physically push all of his emotions away, pushing the air away from his chest with his hands. Bryony often told him that it was a bit silly, but he didn’t care. As long as he imagined the darkness and the crushing sensation moving away from him, he could almost feel it working. His shoulders relaxed a bit and he finally opened his eyes once more with the resolution to pack all of the essentials and anything else that he could carry to move on with his life. He deserved as much.

Walking around their room - no, Alex’s room - Dan gathered his laptop, chargers and some clothes and placed them in his luggage. His keyboard didn’t fit, obviously, so he just set it on the floor. He tried not to look at the bed where he had just been sitting, the same bed where Alex had broken his trust.

He let out a deep sigh. This would no longer be his home after tonight.

Half an hour later he closed both of his suitcases full to the brim, leaving behind a series of gifts Alex had given him throughout their relationship piled in the middle of the bed. A locket with a picture of them celebrating their first anniversary together, a golden hoop and a diamond stud for his right ear, letters and various trinkets - the only thing missing was… He looked at his left hand, the simple gold band sparkled under the light. While Dan had always taken good care of his engagement ring, Alex’s was all scuffed and lacklustre; not because he didn’t remove it, he did so quite often, but because he used it even when he was fixing stuff around the flat. So many little things kept coming back to him. He should have noticed how little effort Alex made in keeping him happy, on spending special dates with him, neglecting him and their relationship at every opportunity.

Another tear rolled down Dan’s cheek and he sniffled, but this time he didn’t let it evolve into another anxiety attack; reality was finally dawning on him. Alex had ignored Dan’s every need, even going as far as not accompanying him to the fucking hospital when he’d felt sick.

Dan thought back to the time he had to shower while sitting on a chair so he could go to the hospital for a very high fever while Alex sat on the couch watching the game. He’d ended up taking a taxi alone and later passing out in the hallway outside the nurse’s office as he waited to be called.

That motherfucker had even chastised Dan for not telling him how bad he’d felt and made him feel guilty for not asking him to accompany him to the hospital. He’d said Dan had done it to make him feel like a bad alpha.

The doorbell rang, pulling Dan from his memories. He let Bryony into the building and went about dragging his luggage towards the door. Just as he managed to carry the damn things, there was a knock on the door.

Dan checked through the peephole before opening in case it was his former boyfriend, but he opened the door swiftly when he saw it was Bryony.

As soon as he looked her in the eye, his lips started trembling.

Bryony’s determined expression shifted into a concerned frown as she opened her arms for him. “Oh, baby! Come here!”

A sob broke from his throat before he rushed into her arms. She managed to shuffle them and her luggage into the flat before shutting the door.

“He cheated on me-e!” Dan cried. “I’m such a-an idiot!”

“I know, I know he cheated, but you are not an idiot. You are so sweet, and such a good boyfriend and a good person.” She grabbed Dan’s face gently and looked into his eyes. “I can assure you that he doesn’t deserve you. He will realise that when it’s too late, when you have already moved on with your life. He will regret it.”

Dan nodded with a watery smile and wrapped his arms tightly around her for a little bit longer. The fact that her voice carried a threatening tone should have probably worried him, but it comforted him instead. Bryony was his family, his friend, his everything. He knew that no matter what, he would always have her. Holding onto that thought, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Better?” She asked, letting go of him.

“I think so,” he whipped his eyes with his sleeve. “Every time I think I’m done it just starts again. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not here to judge you, darling,” Bryony said, rubbing circles on his back. “Come on. We better get everything done before he gets back.”

“Do you think he will try something?” Dan asked, pulling on his sleeve.

“No, but I will. I better not see his bitch face ever again or he will regret it.”

Dan snorted. “It’s fine. He’s a coward. He will probably wait until he thinks I’m sleeping to avoid another argument.”

“Good. What else do we need to pack?” She asked looking around.

“I don’t know, I think I have everything.”

“Are you sure? Did you get everything that you bought for this flat?”

Dan shook his head. “No, I just got my clothes and electronics.”

“Dan, you will be staying with me as long as you want but when you decide to move out, you’ll have to buy everything all over again. Don’t leave that asshole the fruit of your hard-earned money.”

“You’re right,” he said with a determined look upon his face. “I’m taking all my cooking and baking stuff. And the blender.”

Bryony smiled. “Don’t forget the microwave!”

“Oh yeah!” Dan laughed. Maybe taking everything he ever contributed to this house had some sort of empowering effect on him. “Should I take the stuff I bought him?” Dan asked, chewing on his lip.

“Did you return the gifts he gave you?”

“Yes, I don’t want anything that reminds me of him.��

“Maybe you should take those expensive coats he likes so much and give them to the charity shop.”

“Yes! That’s a great idea. I don’t want to keep them but I bought them with my money.”

Dan wrote a simple ‘FUCK YOU!’ note for Alex and stuck it to the door before blocking his phone number and all his family as well. He allowed himself a little satisfaction for this brief moment of courage.

With everything packed and ready, they exited the building one last time, only stopping to leave the keys behind with the concierge.

Staying at Bryony’s was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she was patient and caring with him, humouring him by watching rom coms for movie nights or playing video games with him; and a curse because she worked - a lot. She actually loved her job and had no problem getting there early or staying overtime to finish writing a story or doing some research.

Dan was fine, at least when he had company he was able to laugh through the sadness; but when left to his own devices, his brain could only do so much before sinking into the abyss, pulling him down to depths he had never seen before. He could feel himself slipping; his self-love had never been that strong, and he was now alone, save for his very successful and extroverted friend who didn’t need him ruining her life with his little pity party.

His mind kept playing flashbacks of his relationship with Alex in a loop, mocking him, reminding him of the signs that were there all along if he had just paid a bit more attention - if he hadn’t been a lovesick fool. His stomach twisted and turned thinking of all the times he spent time making himself pretty and cooking a nice meal for his boyfriend only to be disregarded, criticized, and tossed aside except for the occasional quick fuck. Dan cursed himself for all the excuses he’d kept constantly making for Alex, mentioning his level of stress and his workload, cherishing every gift he received as half-assed apologies, keeping his love fueled with nothing but crumbs.

Now he spent most of his sleepless nights watching youtube, clutching at his anxiety-ridden stomach, sometimes crying, sometimes unable to cry, suffering without release. Dan tried his best to keep his body healthy, even if his mind was failing him, but he was so nervous all the time that he found it difficult to eat. He could barely manage to eat a few morsels before he felt too full to continue, only to feel faint merely two hours later. Entire days were missing from his memory, especially when time seemed to run sluggishly slow and incredibly fast at the same time.

His self-esteem had never been this bad, not even when he lived with his parents. He doubted himself at every step, accustomed to being questioned on his every comment, on his every decision, on his intelligence and perception of reality. He felt broken, like it was all his fault for not being smarter, for not leaving him sooner.

‘Who would love me now? Am I even worthy of love?’ He pondered.

It was frustrating and stupid, and Dan was honestly fed up with it all. He was so goddamn tired. All of this because of a man; a man who couldn’t care less about him if he tried.

It wouldn’t have been a mistake to call Dan a bit pedantic. Sometimes he thought he was smarter than he actually was, especially when it came to hiding his feelings. His mind going around in circles, making him lose all sense of self. He fashioned himself both a helpless idiot and a master manipulator who could conceal everything behind a sweet smile, but he was no such thing.

Bryony had tried to let Dan go through his grief on his own terms, offering comfort and support whenever she could, but he wasn’t showing any progress. She needed to help him find his footing again, even if he didn’t feel ready for that yet.

A month and a half after Dan moved in, she came home early and found him crying as he laid in the hallway between her kitchen and bedroom, his face marred with the imprint of the plush carpet hairs.

Her heart ached for her friend but she knew that if she mentioned it he would feel embarrassed. Instead, she helped him up without a word and led him to the couch before going about preparing some tea.

Two minutes later, she placed the mugs on the coffee table and sat beside him, placing her hand on his knee. “Dan, you can’t keep going like this,” she whispered.

Dan grabbed his mug and took a small sip. “I know,” he said, bringing his knees up to his chest and his eyes looking to anywhere but her.

She tried to keep an even and firm tone even though she felt like crying. “What have you thought about to improve your situation?”

“I need to move out so you can get your life back,” Dan droned out.

Bryony frowned. “Of course not. What would you do alone? You quit your job so you didn’t have to keep seeing him, you would have nothing to do all day other than wallow in misery and that’s not helping you.” She said a bit more bluntly than she had meant to. “I think you should come to work with me.”

“What?” He finally looked at her.

“Hear me out,” she said. “Every so often, the company opens spots for people who are not as experienced in the field but want to start, sort of like an internship. The pay is not amazing but I think you would be great at it and you could be hired for an actual full-time job within six months. What do you think?”

“I - I don’t know. I’ve never attempted anything that serious in the writing field. You know the magazine I worked at is rather small and unknown.”

“But it’s something, and you were good at it. You also wrote back in college and you were very talented. I remember that you had written a few short stories and you aced English Lit at every chance.”

Dan blushed at the praise. “Do you really think I could do it?”

Bryony smiled fondly. “I’m telling you that I have already discussed it with my boss and he said that you can intern for me.”

“What?”

“Being the boss’s favourite is worth something after all,” she laughed. “You have an interview on Monday but it’s just a formality.”

Dan smiled widely, setting the mug on the table and wrapped his arms around her tightly, resting his head on her shoulder. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You punched Jimmy in grade nine when he called me a cunt.” She hugged him, rubbing comforting circles on his back.

Dan barked a laugh. “I did do that.”

“My hero; now it’s the time for me to protect you too.”

“Bry…” Dan pulled back.

“Yeah?”

“What am I going to wear?” He bit his lip.

“Beats me,” Bryony shrugged. “You can dress like a twink but you need to be a bit fancier; that yeezus t-shirt won’t do.”

Dan rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t dress like a twink.”

“Of course not!” She smirked. “Well, I guess we’ll have to go shopping - and get you a haircut, you mutt.”

“Alright,” Dan smiled. He let out a sigh; this might be just what he was needing.

When Monday rolled around, Dan found himself hesitating in front of the BBC News building for five minutes. He huffed, a bit mad that he was even considering turning around, but he decided to push himself; it was time to move on. He straightened his tie and checked his hair on his phone before marching in with his head held high even though he wanted nothing but to hide in a corner.

He mumbled what Bryony had told him under his breath. ‘Announce yourself at the front desk, a very nice girl named Leona will check the time of your interview and let you in.’

Dan walked as confidently as he could towards the front desk and cleared his throat. The woman on the other side finished typing something on her computer and looked up. “Hello, how can I help you?” She smiled.

“Hi, I’m Daniel Howell and I’m here for an interview.”

She turned to the computer and started typing. “Who do you have an interview with?”

“Oh. Um, Charles… Charles Kensington.”

“Here you are,” she said, staring at her screen. “Interview at 9.30 with Charles. You can take any of the elevators to your right, just press the 10th floor and you will be in the right place.”

“Thank you,” Dan turned and started to walk away.

“Daniel!” The lady yelled after him.

Dan turned on the spot with a quizzical look. “Yeah?”

“You need your temporary admission card to unlock the doors,” she said waving the plastic around. “This will allow you to walk through the entire 10th floor, but that’s it so don’t go around following anyone or you will be locked in.”

Dan felt himself blush and retrieved the admission card with a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome… and good luck.”

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly and headed for the elevator.

The 10th floor was quite different from the ground level. The decor gave a much more relaxed vibe. There were plants in every corner, warm wood desks, offices with glass walls and open doors, a soft chatter running through the entire place without being actually annoying. He sat on one of the couches surrounding a small coffee table and looked around.

Dan could see Bryony’s office if he stretched his neck a bit; she was chatting with a hot guy, probably around 30, honey blonde hair, nice shirt although boring, black trousers that hugged his ass just right, broad shoulders -

Bryone saw him being sneaky and gave him a look. As if on queue, “hot guy” turned towards him and smiled.

Dan’s eyes felt ready to fall out of his skull. He sat upright and smiled nervously. The guy made his way to Dan and shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Charles Kensington. You must be Daniel.”

‘Fuck!’ Dan thought, my boss saw me checking him out. “Yes, yes. I’m Daniel Howell, thank you for the interview.”

“Thank you for joining us. Bryony has told me all about your writing talent and I can assure you we need more people like you around.”

“Oh well - thank you for the opportunity,” he said, mentally facepalming as he realised he was basically repeating himself. ‘Way to go, Dan,’ he thought.

“Follow me, we will be more comfortable in my office,” Mr Kensington said.

As they walked by Bryony’s office, he paused by the door and knocked on the frame. “Bry, would you be a darling and bring us two coffees?”

“Fuck no, Charles. I’m not your secretary,” she said with no malice in her tone.

Dan snickered. “It’s ok, if you point me in the right direction I can get us coffee.”

“Nonsense!” Mr Kensington replied.

Bryony rolled her eyes and huffed. “Ugh, fine. I’ll get you your damn coffee, you two go on with the interview.”

Mr Kensington smiled widely. “Thank you, Bry. You are the best.”

“The best alpha in this office,” Bryony said without moving a millimetre.

He rolled his eyes and repeated. “The best alpha in this office.”

Bryony smiled triumphantly and Mr Kensington turned, making his way down the corridor as he motioned Dan to follow him.

Dan did so lost in thought; he was surprised that he only looked mildly pained as he conceded defeat to Bry. Most alphas were extremely proud of their status, especially if they had a position of power. It always looked a bit like a pissing contest to Dan, one that he never truly understood, but this man seemed to not be faced with such nonsense, even when the power claim came from a female alpha. It was quite refreshing.

His train of thought was cut short when they entered the office at the end of the corridor. It was only slightly bigger than the rest and it had blinds on the walls that were pulled all the way up.

Dan looked around before taking a seat across his potential new boss.

“Well, tell me a bit about yourself, Daniel.” Mr Kensington flashed him a gorgeous smile that did nothing to help him calm his nerves.

“Uh, I’m originally from Reading. I took my A levels in English, Psychology, History, Drama and Science. I attended Manchester University for Law but I dropped out after two years.”

He hummed. “Why did you drop out?”

“Um. Law wasn’t really what I wanted to do with my life, Mr Kensington -”

“Charles.”

“Charles…” Dan smiled. “So once I figured that out, I decided to move to London and find a job that made me happy.”

“What was it? What happened with that job?” Charles asked leaning forward with a smile.

“I was a freelance editor and occasional columnist for an online magazine. ‘Young Culture,’ you might have heard about it. I really loved it but I felt like after three years, it was time to move on.” Dan tried very hard not to frown but he didn’t understand why the reason he’d left was important.

Charles nodded, seemingly pleased with his answer. “It looks like you have a brilliant future ahead of you, Daniel.”

“Thank you. Please, call me Dan.”

“Dan,” Charles smiled.

Bryony knocked on the door and Dan rushed to help her when he saw that her hands were full. “Oh my gosh, you brought so much.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I know you didn’t have breakfast and we don’t need you passing out on your first day.”

Dan blushed and mumbled a thank you to her before she turned on her heels and left. He set the mugs and the box with bagels on the desk and sat back down.

“Thank you, Dan. As I’m sure Bryony told you, this interview was merely a formality. I basically needed to know that you were not an axe murderer,” he laughed. “Why don’t you start with a six-month internship under Bry and then we can discuss a permanent spot.”

“That sounds amazing, thank you. Um, how possible do you think it would be for me to get a permanent spot in the company?”

“We don’t usually offer them right away since we have to determine if the person is a good match. We have a very well-oiled work environment both in efficiency and in interpersonal relations. But, in your case, I think you will fit right in.”

Dan reached into the box for a bagel at the same time Charles did and their fingers lingered together briefly.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Charles asked.

“Sure,” Dan said.

“Are you and Bryony in a relationship?”

“Oh, god no. She’s my best friend and we’ve known each other since we were kids, but no. Besides, I assume that’s not allowed.”

“Oh, okay. Not at all. Being involved with someone from the company is allowed as long as the company is legally notified and both parties agree not to sue us if there’s any trouble.”

“Oh.” Dan blinked.

“Well, good luck on your first day. If you need anything, you can ask Bry or me, my office is usually open unless I’m in a meeting or an important call.”

“Thank you.” Dan took that as the end of the interview, so he got up, shook his boss’s hand and walked out of the office carrying his coffee and bagel, heading straight to Bryony’s.

He knocked on the door frame, but again, she wasn’t alone. The man in her office turned around and Dan felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. Those piercing blue-green eyes with specks of gold and a lopsided smile. Unlike his boss, this guy was Dan’s perfect fantasy, much more approachable, emo black hair, black skinny jeans, Gengar T-shirt and a strong frame. His throat lost all moisture as his lips moved but no sound came out. He just couldn’t stop staring.

Bryony cleared her throat. “Dan, this is my friend Phil. He’s one of the editors of the culture section.”

“Hi,” Dan said with a blushing smile. “I’m Dan, the new guy.”

“Hi, I’m Phil. You spent quite some time in Charles’s office.” Phil noted.

Dan frowned, as he didn’t understand what Phil was implying or why he even cared. “I was in my interview…” he mumbled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Phil reassured him with a grin. “You will love it here, welcome aboard.”

“Thank you,” Dan beamed.

When Bryony cleared her throat again, louder this time, Phil finally made himself scarce. Dan shook his head, coming back down to reality. He settled in the smaller desk in his friend’s office and went about hanging his coat and putting his notebook and stationery to make the space feel his. Then, he opened one of the drawers and found a framed picture of him and Bry. It was from the day he’d graduated college; there was no special celebration or family gathering that day, just him and his best friend dressed to the nines and smiling like crazy, dreaming of a better future.

Dan looked up and found Bryony watching him expectantly. “Thank you,” he said.

She smiled Broadly. “It’s one of my favourite pictures of us. We need to take more pictures, to remember the good times, you know?”

“There haven’t been many of those lately.”

“True. I guess we’ll have to make them happen ourselves, won’t we?”

Dan smiled. Maybe there was a light at the end of the tunnel; he just needed to focus on what was important. “I’d like that.”

“I’m glad you said that because we have a dinner reservation for tonight - my treat.”

“You are the bestest.” Dan blew her a kiss.

“I know,” she said with a wink and got back to work.

Dan’s first week at the BBC went quite well. He found that slipping back into that line of work was quite easy, even if the workload of a small publication paled in comparison to that of a huge corporation-ran magazine. It was quite refreshing to be able to focus on his own job and have an editor in chief that was willing to answer any questions if Bry was away, although he tried to keep some distance from Charles since he seemed a bit interested in him. Dan had no intention of doing that kind of work.

Phil’s little visits to his office were the highlight of his days, but he tried not to be too chatty with him - especially since Bry kept giving him looks. Bryony and Phil were quite friendly with each other but her protective streak wouldn’t let her look away from Dan when other unbonded alphas were around. He briefly wondered if she would ever stop treating him like a little brother, especially since they were the same age.

There was definitely something going on with Phil and Charles. Phil always talked to Dan and was generally nice to him, but when Charles was around, Phil tried to get the boss’s attention instead. It seemed like Phil valued Charles’s praising but most of it was directed at Dan. It got a bit awkward at times with two alphas preening their metaphorical feathers and a third one watching them closely, hoping they would leave her territory, so she could work in peace. Luckily it never went beyond that because they were all friendly and respected each other quite a bit. Anyways, Dan had no doubt that a word from Bry would make the men apologize and leave immediately if anything were to happen.

Dan’s workdays were fun although a bit nerve-wracking. He felt like he was still trying to find his footing with how they ran things around the office - luckily Bry was there to just smoothly roll her chair over and whisper in Dan’s ear about the ins and outs of everything as soon as Dan got a quizzical look upon his face. Having edited before was quite an advantage though; he was a bit savage at it but that’s how editing works. His style had gotten him even more work because Charles liked to assign mental health, wellness pieces and world news to him particularly and there had even been a talk about giving Dan his first piece to write at some point in the near future.

By Friday, Dan felt both satisfied and exhausted, but mostly fucking ready to go home and lay on the sofa in his pants and an oversized hoodie. He rested his back against his chair and slouched a bit, turning to look at Bryony who was furiously typing on her phone and biting her lip with a cheeky smile. A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. Dan felt himself blush, he sat upright when he saw Phil leaning against the doorframe. “Hey.”

“Hey, Dan. I’m on my way out but I wanted to catch you guys before you left,” said Phil even though he was only looking at Dan. “I wanted to invite you for a movie slash games night - tonight.”

Dan was unsure of what their house rules or schedule was, so he tried to get his friend’s attention. “Bry?”

“Huh?” She looked up.

Dan gave her a look, trying to convey his feelings in a more subtextual manner. “Phil is inviting us for a movie night today.”

“Oh. Can’t, sorry,” she said without missing a beat. Dan’s eyes widened as he silently asked for an explanation.

“Oh,” said Phil, not bothering to hide his disappointment.

“Sorry Phil,” said Dan, giving him a one-shoulder shrug.

That spurred Bryony into action. She waved her hand dismissively. “No, no. It’s fine,” she said with a smile too big to be natural. “You don’t need me, guys. Dan, you go to Phil’s.”

“Are you sure?” Dan frowned. “We can hang out another time.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go next time. I have a date tonight,” she said waving her phone around.

“Oh. oh!” No wonder she was so eager to get him out of the house, or at least get someone else to keep Dan company.

Phil did finger guns at her before turning to Dan.“Well Dan, bring pyjamas. You can crash on the sofa.” He said, “It’s very comfy!”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” Bryony rushed to say.

Dan couldn’t bring himself to ruin Bry’s date; he was already taking so much of her time and space, it was time to give her a break. “Don’t worry about it. It will be fun. Thank you for having me, Phil.”

Phil gave him a bright smile. “It will be my pleasure. I’ll text you the address!” He said before turning on his heels and leaving.

Dan waited until Phil was out of earshot before rolling in his chair all the way to Bry. “So, who is she?”

“She’s the girl from the bagel shop, the one with pink and purple hair. Her name is K and she’s super funny and nice,” Bry smiled.

“Oooh, cute!” Dan said. “Good luck! I want to hear all about it tomorrow!”

“Everything?” She laughed.

Dan smiled in mock innocence. “Maybeeee.”

“Ok, but you’ll tell me everything too!”

Dan laughed. “Nothing will happen with Phil! I swear!” That was his intention, but he blushed furiously regardless.

“Mhmm,” said Bryony and returned to work throwing the occasional knowing look in Dan’s direction.

Next Chapter

#phanfiction #phanfic #succubusphan fics #yani's ospbb fic #ospbb

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starkerintheparker · 4 years

Text

starker reclist - canon based fics

Hi Starker fam! To celebrate my 900 followers I decided to finally start posting my humble and very personal reclist. I’ve been planning to do it for a while now but it got way bigger than I anticipated so I decided to split it in 4 parts and will share the first one today. I’ve been around for less than a year and there’s a lot I haven’t read yet so my plan is to update this list as I go.

Under the cut is part I, solely is dedicated to canon-based fics. I’m a sucker for angst so most of my recs feature guilty!Tony, miscommunication, porn with feels and all that jazz. Hopefully you’ll be able to find something interesting according to your preferences. Oh and don’t forget to leave kudos, comments and spread the love for these authors :) Cheers!

Last updated: 2020/04/18. All new fics added will be marked with ***

• 10 Ways to Woo Your Boo by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 6k, completed)

Summary: By twenty-one Peter Parker had graduated college, scored himself a post-grad job and was a full-fledged member of the Avengers. He had his own apartment, paid his own bills and juggled his time between being a superhero and working enough to cover his rent. So long as Peter was armed with his ID, he was a full-fledged adult in the eyes of the law. Perhaps foolishly, he’d assumed it would make him an adult in the eyes of everybody else too. Keen to be seen as worthy of Tony's heart, Peter enlists the help of his friends and the internet in courting his former mentor.

Review: We all love Ash’s fantastic AUs but this lovely canon-based fic may be one of my favorite works by her. I will never know how she manages the fine balance between angst, humor and romance, I just know it hits me good and takes my breath away. Oblivious!Tony and Peter being a bisexual disaster at wooing, what do you mean this wasn’t in the movies? Sounds canon to me.

• 100-Point Restoration by Destina (T, 8k, completed)

Summary: Tony needs a happiness upgrade; Peter wants Tony. These goals might be compatible. (This story is set roughly five years post-Homecoming).

Review: I just realized this was the first Starker fic I’ve read, and it was back in 2017! I didn’t ship Starker at the time but this author must have done something right because for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes away. This fic is gorgeous. Tony’s voice is amazing, his dynamics with Peter are spot-on and organic - but nothing’s better than watching their feelings unfold, like a soft and warm humming just awaiting for disclosure.

• adult supervision by doveslayer (M, 20k, on hiatus)

Summary: Peter Parker should not keep drunk-dialing Tony Stark after midnight. But more pressingly, Tony Stark should not keep answering. In which Tony tries to convince himself he's doing nothing wrong. warning: underage!Peter tho pretty vanilla imo

Review: My favorite “everything is happening while nothing is happening” fic. Their voices are spot on, the dialogues are clever, and you can almost touch the tension with your fingertips. It’s been a year since the last update but even if this fic never gets finished I promise the read will have been worthy!

• Attached by @paspleurer (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: Tony gets it, he really does. As far as rebounds go, sleeping with your childhood hero isn't half bad. And if what Peter wants is this— just sex, with no strings attached— then Tony will give him this.

Review: Pleurer and Learned Foot have seduced me with the rebound trope. This is a lovely Tony POV with the good old pining + miscommunication combo, plus enthusiastic sex and sweet domesticity. What else could I ask for?

• Covet by RTC anonymous (E, 34k, completed)

Summary: Peter has a new boyfriend. Tony starts drinking again, for unrelated reasons.

Review: I read this fic when I was still warily lurking around the Starker fandom and it blew me away. The sexual tension is so palpable you can almost taste it. There is jealous, guity Tony failing at mentoring and a vulnerable, smitten Peter Parker trying to make sense out of it. RTC anon is a religion.

• Ephemeron by @ramblings-from-elsinore (E)

Summary: "Being around Ned, Peter's reminded how out of place he is. For Ned, the second ever appearance of aliens over Manhattan is the stuff of excited hallway chatter, of where were you when—? Ned’s world wasn’t blown apart and stitched back together. Because Ned doesn’t remember. No one does, except the ones who were there, who fought." AKA, "Tony's relationship with Peter may be unconventional, but they’re unconventional people who have had some pretty fucking unconventional experiences." In which Tony can't stop touching Peter to make sure he's real, and Peter dreams of being in Tony's arms and not disappearing.

Review: I started reading this fic before I joined the fandom and man, what a way to get pulled into this ship. Brace yourself for hardcore guilty!Tony being all over the place plus unhealthy codependency and touch deprivation, all the good things. Reading this is a spiritual experience but fair warning: this is not a happy story, at least not for a long while, so please mind the tags.

• Expiration Date by @learned-foot (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony knows exactly what this is. First big breakup, go for a fling with a completely inappropriate person. It’s basically a cliché. He kind of thought Peter was better than that, but apparently being brilliant and one of the bravest people on the face of the planet doesn’t mean he’s immune from being a stupid college student who makes stupid college student mistakes. AKA Tony is sure this is just a fling, and he deals with that about as well as you’d expect.

Review: Ahh my beloved rebound trope and my first rec (out of many) by LF! Between a pining, insecure Tony making all the wrong decisions and a young and confident Peter unwilling to let him go, this fic makes your heart ache in the best ways. Good thing LF only works with happy endings!

• From Thy Bounty by @ibby-writes and feyrelay (E, 31k, completed)

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Review: I’ve lost count of how many times I reread this insanely hot and ridiculously well written fic. Besides the A+++ characterization, there is delicious food porn foreplay followed by a breathtaking cat and mouse game that culminates with no less than 13.5k of intense and unapologetic sex with feels, my favorite kind. Enjoy the meal! ;D

***Gift of Choice by tuesday (E, 12k, completed)

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Review: This is my favorite fic by tuesday and the PERFECT rendition of our beloved sugar daddy trope. Great pacing, amazing dialogues and a breathtaking build up that makes you both smile and sweat in anticipation. They’re so in love I almost can’t handle when they finally get together. Sexy, hot and very sweet.

• here is my hand, my heart by belatrix (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: Mostly, Tony had tried not to look. He still does. Try, that is. It’s just― it’s getting a little bit harder every day.

Review: I have a HUGE soft spot for this beautiful masterpiece, because it was the fic that finally made me join the Starker fandom. I’ve reread it so many times and it never fails to amaze me. Through an atmospheric non-linear narrative, this shows a guilt-ridden Tony Stark trying and failing to resist one determined Peter Parker who won’t take bullshit for an answer. Hot, and angsty, and breathtaking.

• I know that you got Daddy Issues (And I do too) by feyrelay (E)

Summary: The one where Peter’s blue balls save the world. Because, yeah? That meandering, blooming thing between him and Mr. Stark? That relationship that continues to be maddeningly legal, platonic, and above-board, but still somehow haunts Peter’s wildest wet-dreams? That might just be the key to Strange’s endgame.

Review: This fic is a love letter to those who appreciate an angsty and nuanced slow burn like me. Possibly the best character study I’ve ever read combined with a clever, well researched and intricated plot. Reading this will make you fall even more in love with Tony and Peter as individuals, before wanting them to be better together. Make sure to also check all related fics under the tag DIEU (Daddy Issues Extended Universe) - the Starker verse we fucking deserve.

• if I am the river, you are the ocean by sadonsundays (E, 7k, completed)

Summary: The one where Tony can't sleep and Peter can't stop his hands from shaking.

Review: This is a gorgeous recovery fic, painful and heartbreaking, yes, but still very gentle as Tony and Peter’s relationship quietly unfolds. Pepper is an absolute treat which was refreshing to me. I just love the quiet and angsty undertone that guides their journey until they finally find home in each other.

if you’d grant my love a pardon by belatrix (M, 2.5k, completed)

Summary: The first time, it goes something like this: “No,” Tony says, but it’s tired, half-hearted, not quite a denial.

Review: One of the reasons why I love this ship is that there’s always room for angst, even when they’re already together. This lovely yet heartbreaking fic mirrors Tony’s fragile heart as he realizes that as much as he should, he just can’t let go of Peter, not quite yet. Belatrix writes guilty!Tony’s headspace like nobody else and I just can’t recommend her writing enough.

• in the light of a dying star by @areiton (M, 6k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Extremis isn't a guarantee. That's what Pepper told him, as they took him off the bloody, dusty field. It was just a chance. A desperate gamble.

Review: I’m so glad I read this right after Endgame because this is the fix-it Tony and we all deserved, this fic is so comforting and beautiful. I really love the quiet, ethereal atmosphere and how it shapes our perception of time and character development. Peter is beautifully written and their get together made my heart ache in peace.

• In the Morning by @cagestark (M, 6k, completed)

Summary: Peter's pretty stressed. He isn't understanding physics despite all the extra time he is spending with Bruce. And underneath it all, something is wrong with Mr. Stark.

Review: Heart wrenching and painfully honest fic, where Tony is a jealous mess and Peter is his usual earnest, sweet and good self. They meet in the middle, and it’s quiet, beautiful and sad.

• Kiss Me by @ironspi

Summary: Five times Peter and Tony almost kiss and one time they did.

Review: This fic was such a lovely surprise! It begins unpretentious and it builds up to quality pining and unresolved sexual tension. Chapter 4 is particularly awesome, so charged and intimate. Kudos to the author for exploring Peter taking the lead and making Tony melt in his arms.

• Landslide by spqr (M, 8k, completed) fix-it

Summary: Peter jumps into the quantum realm with his heart in his throat. He steps out in 2018, on the edge of a lake he still has nightmares about. A hundred yards away over the water, the lights in the lakehouse are on.

Review: Morally ambiguous characters + angsty time travel? Count me in. This fic has a very interesting (and darker) take on Peter post-Thanos, in his raw and desperate grief over Tony. Bonus points for amazing dialogues and a fix-it plot so clever and believable I’m surprised I didn’t see it on screen.

• lean on me now by @areiton (G, 9k, on hiatus)

Summary: He’s so tired, and he hurts, the kind of screaming pain he’s struggling to ignore now, and he wants to go home. But he can do this. He can sit and watch, and keep them safe. A wry smile tugs at his lips because he knows how ridiculous that sounds--a kid keeping Avengers safe.

Review: One of the best canon divergence fics I’ve ever read. It’s quiet, angsty and Peter’s voice is simply amazing. My heart breaks for Tony, but I’m so here for Peter & Rhodey’s brOTP, the fandom deserves more of it.

• noticing by @areiton (NR, 2k, completed)

Summary: “You deserve to be happy,” Rhodey tells Tony once, when Tony is drinking and conflicted and Peter is sleeping unaware on the couch. Tony watches him, eyes bright.

Review: How could I ever resist seeing Tony and Peter’s relationship development through Rhodey’s protective and thoughtful gaze? Any Tony stan should read this fic because this is the kind of love, friendship and support he deserves. Reading this put my mind at rest, knowing Tony’s cared for, and safe.

• Obvious by @learned-foot (M, 14k, completed)

Summary: When Peter wakes up, several things become very clear all at once: he’s underground somewhere unpleasant, something is messing with his powers, and his entire body hurts. A lot.

Review: WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP *victory dance* god this one is brutal, but we can trust LF to bring on full angst with an intriguing plot and A+++ characterization. I’m so here for protective!Tony doing whatever it takes to keep Peter safe, including all the confusion and heartbreak his problematic decisions may bring.

• Permission by @cagestark (E, 16k, completed)

Summary: During drinks with the Avengers, Peter admits that he enjoys orgasms more when someone is giving him permission, though since he's single, there isn't anyone in his life to offer it. Generous Tony offers to offer it.

Review: This fic is unique and so very hot, but don’t let the smutty summary fool you. There is also tenderness and FEELS in capital letters. Despite their arrangement, pining!Tony is so vulnerable and so completely in love with Peter it kinda breaks my heart a little, but thankfully Cage is a big fan of happy endings like me, so we’re all safe in her hands.

***Post-Endgame NYE by @darker-soft-starker (M, completed)

Summary: Five years after the events of endgame Tony is resurrected. Months after that, he's still trying to find equilibrium

Review: Hands down the loveliest ‘flirting on a bench’ I’ve ever seen, and my top favorite NYE Starker fic. I love to see Tony facing an existential crisis while he navigates his new life post-resurrection, including the violent realization of ‘oh no, Peter’s an attractive adult now’. Gentle and gorgeous get together, kudos at Morgan for being a little devil and playing matchmaking.

• Proxy by @cagestark (E, 11k, completed)

Summary: Peter wants to know if Mr. Stark knows, like, anybody who’d be willing to make out with him. Things escalate from there.

Review: I have such a big soft spot for this fic because “by proxy” is one of my favorite tropes and Cage explored it masterfully. Again, this is pining!Tony at his best and Cage just has this ability to transform what once started as a sexy little thing into this soft and gentle love story, the kind that gives you butterflies in the stomach.

• Radar by @intoxicatelou (M)

Summary: Peter could say that he’s officially approached desperation, but he wants this, wants Tony, and he’s willing to do everything it takes. Or the one in which Peter tries to become Tony's celebrity crush from 2009 in order to seduce him.

Review: This is one of my favorites self-indulgent fics, I just can’t resist the good old “Peter’s seduction handbook” trope and intoxicatelou delivers it beautifully. This story is sweet, super fun and relatable af. There’s A+ pining, Peter being a bisexual disaster and MJ being the queen we all stan, shocking absolutely no one.

• Revelations by RTC anonymous (E, 127k, completed)

Summary: “I still don’t get it,” Ned says. “How you just... keep being ordinary in spite of all the craziness you’ve lived through. You were in space. You helped Iron Man save the universe. And nobody knows it was you.” His tone softens, becomes almost sad. As though he realizes that what he’s saying is so completely alien to him that he will never be able to understand this part of Peter’s life. “Peter, don’t you want people to know you for who you are?” An AU where they get the Gauntlet off of Thanos that first time, on Titan.

Review: I feel like I don’t need to justify this choice – almost everyone in the fandom has either heard of or read this masterpiece, it’s safe to say this fic is part of the Starker Training Wheels Protocol lol. If you have just arrived or is just exploring the fandom and enjoys slow burns I suggest you start right hee because it doesn’t get any better than this. There’s A+++ characterization, breathtaking pining, insane sexual tension and a very satisfying ending if I may say so. Definitely among my top 3 Starker fics. RTC anon, wherever you are, please know you are loved and appreciated. I’ll literally build an altar for you.

• Reversal by @learned-foot (E, 4k, completed)

Summary: Sometimes, Tony is the one who needs to be praised.

Review: For once Peter makes Tony just lie down and take 😊 the fucking 😊 praise 😊. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this fic all my life. This is the praise kink Tony (and we all) deserve, genuine, gentle and powerful. If you’re a big sap for their love like I am, you’re in for an emotional ride because this is overwhelmingly sweet to the point it brings tears to your eyes. LF is such a gift to this fandom.

• Settling by @cagestark (E, 5k, completed)

Summary: Peter really wants to be taller than Tony. Heels help.

Review: One of my favorites by Cage, I still remember how happy and giggly I felt when I first read it. There is A+++ characterization, amazing dialogue, Avengers domesticity, praise kink, the hottest blow job and my favorite Starker first kiss. Oh, did I mention Peter in heels and Tony loving every moment of it? You’re welcome :D

• Stipulations by RTC anonymous (E, 70k, completed)

Summary: Peter Parker’s long term dream recently went from ‘get into MIT’ to ‘afford going to MIT’. As the time approaches, it’s dawning on him that he won’t be able to pay his tuition and afford the move to Cambridge all at once: he’s out of money, his secrets are beginning to pile up, and desperation has started creeping in... And then one night, he saves Tony Stark’s life.

Review: Another fandom classic by our irreplaceable RTC anon, this fic is SO GOOD I keep coming back to it and just recently I realized I’ve built all my personal Starker headcanons out of it, lol. A+++ characterization and hot, delicious pining is a given with this author, but I’m really here for that senses-dialed-to-11 trope, and RTC delivers it masterfully.

• subtle by @areiton (T, 1k, completed)

Summary: Peter is not subtle. He wears his emotion, his excitement, like a flag waved bright red and teasing for a bull—impossible to go unnoticed, impossible to ignore. It’s adorable and it’s Peter, and it’s—in hindsight—why Tony misses the context clues.

Review: This fic is like reading poetry, a balm to the heart. Peter wears Tony’s colors and by the time Tony finally gets the context clues they fall together in the gentlest, softest way.

• Take it slow by tuesday (E, 13k, completed)

Summary: There were a ton of reasons dating Peter was a bad idea. Tony loved bad ideas. He was going to do it anyway. In which Tony thinks they're dating, and then they're dating undercover.

Review: This fic is so endearing it’s basically impossible not to cheer for these two, despite their usual infuriating communication issues, lol. But I promise all the angst and wait are worth it, because there’s nothing more satisfying than seeing how they (finally!) get to be on the same page.

• the record spins on the trails we blaze by @darker-soft-starker (NR, 5k, completed)

Summary: Years after the events of Homecoming, Peter thought all of the bad memories were well and truly behind him. After all, so much has happened since then - and he's happy now. Everything is kinda perfect.Turns out nothing stays buried.

Review: Hell yes! I agree HoCo’s events were particularly traumatizing and this trope is not as explored as it should be. To put it simply, this fic is something I didn’t know that I needed and Ash delivered it beautifully. It’s incredibly gentle, cathartic and honest, not to mention the lovely domesticity and understanding between the characters that will make your heart swell.

• Under Someone Else by @learned-foot (M, 7k, completed)

Summary: Peter realizes he’s just a rebound. And he’s okay with that, really. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

Review: FEELS, FEELS EVERYWHERE. It’s so hard to choose a favorite fic by LF but this is the first that comes to mind because it introduced me to the amazing rebound trope. It’s so refreshing to see this ship’s potential for angst and miscommunication playing into the “fuck first, talk later” scenario. Warning for vulnerable boys being idiots and breaking our hearts but P.P.P.S they do eventually get their shit together and it’s glorious!

• Up for Anything by tuesday (E, 8k, completed)

Summary: When it came to Tony Stark, Peter would take what he could get. In which Peter believes he's just a rebound. (Not Endgame compliant.)

Review: Of course there’s yet another gorgeous rebound rec because I can’t get enough of this trope. Honestly, LF and Tuesday writing for each other have provided some of the best fics this fandom has, God bless them. This is another treat featuring pining!Peter and the usual “I can’t communicate properly how much I fucking love you”, but there’s also bantering, delicious dirty talk and so much affection that you’ll read it all with the biggest smile on your face.

#starker #reclist #peter parker x tony stark

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good-as-i-am94 · 4 years

Text

Secret

Peter was relieved when the bell rang and he could leave. He just wanted to get outside and breathe fresh air. The school had been redoing the parking lot and smell had lingered heavily in the building the whole day until all Peter could think about was the smell and his pounding headache. He hadn’t been the only one complaining about it but he had been the only one with super sense to have to put up with it for that many hours.

Peter saw Tony’s car right when he stepped outside. It was extremely hot on this sunny Monday. Peter slid into the car and asked his mentor, “Can I open the windows?”

“I have the AC on, Pete. Besides you always complain that the wind messes up your hair and you’d rather have the AC on.” Tony signaled before pulling out into traffic.

“TONY, LISTEN I NEED FRESH AIR! I NEED AIR!” Peter wasn’t kidding either.

Tony glanced at him at a red light before turning off the AC and opening the sunroof. Peter took that as permission to open his window too. He just leaned his head back and breathed the fresh air willing his headache and upset stomach to go away.

“Sensory stuff?” Tony asked.

“It’s complicated.” Peter mumbled not opening his sleepy eyes.

At that moment it dawned on Tony, “The parking lot. Oh, Peter. You should have called May or I. You probably feel awful.”

“Yeah but everyone did.” Peter knew it was rude to keep his eyes closed but he didn’t want to throw up in this car and he was focused on calming his body down.

“You want me to pull over?” Tony asked worried. He knew he should be worried that all of the kids had suffered for 7+ hours in that building with that smell but the only one he could be worried about was his own.

“No. I want to go home.” Peter answered before grabbing his noise proof headphones from his bag and slipping them over his ears. Tony passed him his sunglasses and Peter put those on too.

Tony had tried to convince Peter to come inside but he had insisted that the fresh air was helping and he was currently laying outside on the grass. He had thrown sunscreen at him and let him be. He knew what being around that smell for a long time did to a person. Peter had senses dialed up to ten compared to Tony so he winced at what Peter must be feeling.

“You know Peter’s laying on the grass?” Pepper asked coming inside.

“He wants fresh air.” Tony glanced over at his fiancé.

“Is he okay?”

“Parking lot is being redone at school.” Tony explained.

“Poor kid. It’s probably going to be bad the next few days.” Pepper grabbed a water bottle from the fridge.

“I need to call May. We can’t send him to school with that smell. I know she’ll agree. I’ll figure out getting a doctor’s note out of Dr. Cho if I have to.”

Tony’s phone rang the next day while he worked in the lab. He glanced at the caller ID and answered when it showed Peter’s school. He wasn’t sure why they were calling because Tony and May had agreed to keep Peter home, but maybe she had forgotten to call him in.

“Hello?”

“Umm. Hello. May I speak with Tony Stark?” The man on the other end requested.

“For the time being you can—At least until I get bored.” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m calling because you are listed as Peter Parker’s emergency contact and he is complaining that he doesn’t feel good.”

“Wait a second.” Tony put his tools back down on the table in front of him,

“Peter’s at school?”

“Umm. Yes, sir. School is five days a week you know?”

“Gee. Thanks for that clarification. I’m coming to pick up the kid, Okay?” Tony grabbed his keys. Why the heck was his kid at school?

Tony walked into the school and found Peter in the nurses office, “Sick?”

“Smell.” Peter responded. Tony didn’t miss how pale he was or the fact that he looked about ready to throw up.

“Let’s go. I signed you out.” Tony wrapped an arm around the teen and Peter didn’t even argue that people might see them.

Tony didn’t say anything until Peter was on the couch sipping some water with the balcony doors open letting in fresh air, “May should have called you into school. I talked to her last night.”

“She did.”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” Tony sat down next to Peter.

“I waited until she left for work and I went to school.” Peter avoided his gaze.

“Because you like feeling awful?” Tony was having trouble understanding.

“My friends were going to be miserable too. They weren’t allowed to just skip school. I wasn’t even sick so the note from Dr. Cho was a lie. I just thought I’d be fine!” Peter moved his arms so that he could cross them over his chest.

“Pete, buddy. I love that you are looking out for your friends, but they don’t have super senses. You do. The note from Dr. Cho was a gray area. You weren’t sick at the time but May and I knew you would be sick if you went to school and look what happened! You have to learn to trust us! If we say something it’s because we care and we want what’s best for you!” Tony knew he shouldn’t raise his voice but Peter constantly put himself at risk for other people.

“I do trust you both!” Peter argued.

“Do you? BECAUSE I CAN’T TELL!” Tony got up and walked out of the room.

Peter sighed. He pulled a blanket over himself and laid on the couch. Tony would be back after he cooled down. He always got heated when Peter got hurt or sick. Peter had talked to May about it one night because he thought Tony was mad at him. She had set him straight.

Peter walked into the apartment and slammed the door, “He’s just unreasonable! DO AS I SAY NOT AS I DO!”

May was staring at a casserole that she had pulled out of the oven, “I can’t believe I burned this!”

“I mean it’s crazy talk! I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be better!” Peter continued to mock his mentor.

“Maybe I can scrape the top part off and it’ll be fine.” May thought out loud.

“I don’t even know why he has me come over if he’s just going to yell at me any time I do something that he doesn’t agree with! I’m not stupid!” Peter huffed sitting down on the couch in the small apartment.

“Dang it. We’re going to have to order take out I think.” May sighed.

Peter laid down against a pillow and screamed into it.

“Are you thinking pizza?” May asked.

Peter glanced over, “Are you hearing me? I don’t think you were listening.”

“No. I heard you talking crazy talk so I thought I’d join in.” May winked.

“Crazy talk? You’re taking his side!” Peter stood up and yelled.

“Hang on. I’m not taking anyone’s side. Let me run something by you, okay?” May reasoned and Peter nodded.

“Tony got hurt last month. He went into a mission and he ended up in the MedBay all week. You remember he cancelled on you, right?” May asked.

“Wait, is he okay now? What happened? How did he get hurt? Why wouldn’t he have called me! I could have helped! HE LIED! He SAID HE HAD A MEETING!” Peter started to pace.

“Well he really thought he had it handled until he got in over his head and figured out that he didn’t. It was too late. He was worried you’d be upset with him if he called for help.” May explained.

“That’s crazy!” Peter argued.

“Yeah so he went into surgery and it was touch and go for a while. All because he threw himself in harm’s way for someone else.”

“But is he okay now?” Peter asked worried.

“Does it worry you that he got hurt?”

“YES! Now is he okay?” Peter groaned.

“Oh. He’s fine. That never happened!” May shrugged.

“MAY! That’s mean! I was scared!” Peter didn’t understand how his aunt could lie about something like that.

“That fear you just felt? Tony lives with that fear for you every time you put someone else’s well being before your own. Remember that before you jump to the ‘he’s unreasonable and angry conclusion.’” May ruffled his hair and grabbed her phone to call for a pizza.

Tony came back upstairs after a couple of hours and found Peter still laying on the couch half asleep. He played a game on his phone, “Sorry, I should have stayed calm.”

“I’m sorry I went to school. I’m sorry the call from the school worried you.” Peter locked his phone and set it next to him on the couch.

“How’d you know it worried me?” Tony wasn’t sure when the kid had started to read him so well.

“If I got a call about you being sick or hurt I’d be out of my mind with worry.”

“You would?” Tony asked with wide eyes.

“Of course! I—-Umm—Ya know…I think you’re great.” Peter fidgeted with his blanket.

Tony got this weird feeling and he wasn’t sure what it was, “No. I’m not. I’m kind of okay.”

Peter sat up at this, “Kind of okay? Nope. Best ever in my opinion. Don’t get weirded out at this, but I kind of, might, sort of…UGH. WHY WON’T THESE WORDS COME OUT? I just umm. Love you or whatever.”

There was that feeling again. But what was it? Oh. Yeah. Love. That weird feeling is love for another human. Tony reached over to ruffle his hair, “Yeah. Love you too, Bubs. Now are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.” Peter started.

Tony and Peter said at the same time, “THAT’S MY SECRET!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042219

If you like this--PLEASE leave a comment and KUDOS!

#IRON DAD AND SPIDER SON #iron dad #Iron Man #spider-man #spidey son #Peter Parker #tony stark #Tony’s kids #ao3feed #ao3fic #fanficwriter

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dise7se · 3 years

Text

gone, gone (thank you)

by @spideysforce (8.1k) for @tonystarkdadmode ( @irondad-fic-exchange )

Characters: Peter Parker, May Parker, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds, Flash Thompson, Betty Brant, Quentin Beck, Tony Stark, Matt Murdock, Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, Karen Page

Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Quentin Beck & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Summary:

Peter has paranoia looming behind him, always watching him, never lingering too close but never leaving him alone. In each dark corner of any alleyway he’s in, paranoia follows him. The green gases and mists seeping out of his city’s storm drains, twirling mystically around his feet, those are all Mysterio. His anxiety-addled brain has convinced him each warp of sulfur dioxide twirling through the air, green subway lights illuminating each particle is Quentin Beck, taunting him in his home."I've got a show waiting for you in Manhattan."

— prompts: presumed dead, hypothermia, and hurt/comfort

read on ao3 (leave comments and kudos)

“There is no way Parker is Spider-Man!” Flash said, voice distant down the hall of the snow-lodge cabin, game pieces clacking against the board.

“And why can’t he be?” Betty asks, voice muffled over a piece of licorice.

“We’ve already been over this,” Ned sighs, the room quieting except for the crackle of the fireplace in front of them where they gathered on the living room floor surrounding the coffee table.

“Bullshit.”

“The dickwad is right here, you know,” MJ says, setting her mouth straight to hide her laugh. She fails. “Ned, let’s hear him out. Can Flash really connect Peter Parker to Spider-Man? JJJ couldn’t.”

They can, not that the Daily Bugle should have aired out his business for all of his home city to prey on, for Mysterio to get into his head, and target every last of his loved ones. It had only been a few months since the older man had faked his death on television, had the Daily Bugle ruin his reputation more than they’ve already tried, and Tony Stark worked tirelessly with Pepper Potts to backtrack on this PR nightmare that carefully painted a brushstroke target on each of his loved ones.

These last few months, his previous mentor has been out of commission, along with other Avengers. He can’t complain, though, he has a feeling he’s making new allies in his home-burough while being a vigilante. Possibly a new mentor, but that’s him projecting. There is no Mysterio if he buries himself in school and work, if he’s exerting himself.

He walks over and joins the rest of them in the living room of the cabin from the hallway where he set down his suitcase and organized it before aunt May came back.

“You hear back from MIT?” MJ asks, scooting closer to him once he sits down on the floor beside her and the coffee table.

“Not yet,” he says, all the attention shifting to him. “I think we’ll all hear back by next week.”

“Well, we may have applied, but it doesn’t mean all of us will get in..” Flash announces, earning an elbow to the ribs by an exasperated Betty.

This is their new dynamic now, really, maybe it was their subconscious way of coping with their previous summer vacation, they began gravitating towards each other.

Peter watched the confusion flicker across Flash’s face, mumbling an apology and a sarcastic, “it’s true..”

He’s been doing that more often, and even though he’s made it clear that he hates it when Peter looks at him with that, ‘psychoanalytical’ face, he’s trying to figure him out. Flash is an electrical current, a neon light buzzing, flickering and it seems like there’s a fuse ready to burst into flecks at any time. He doesn’t mind when Flash is annoyed with him, he knows sophomore and junior year bailing on Academic Decathlon was his fault, but there’s a weight off his shoulders since his identity was revealed to the entire world, he’s in a legal case with a local Queens lawyer to soften the blow currently, and he can handle these little outbursts.

If Flash goes around the school revealing his identity, well, he doesn’t have much leverage.

He puts everything he has into tormenting Peter, but that’s how he is. That’s how their classmates see him, he likes being the center of attention.

The second time he noticed it happen, it was after their Europe trip. He was hugging May, holding her close, Betty, Ned and MJ scattered, and he caught sight of Flash. May turned their 1940s Revolvo on and they sat with the cold air blowing on their faces, May’s face flickering between him and Flash and his butler.

He never dared to bring it up. Ned and MJ never allowed him to, no matter how subtly he planned to. It wasn’t fair of his family, it wasn’t fair for him to go through alone. He never fooled Petter with his facade, but the sinking feeling in his stomach felt worse. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, no matter how many obligations he has to worry about.

Ben taught him when any situation arises for him to be the bigger person, he needs to be the bigger person and assume responsibility. He knew he needed to help find Flash a safe space if he couldn’t by himself. Or, fuck, even just support him whenever he needed to.

In his own fucked up way, Flash had his back as well.

He shoved a skateboard into his arms one afternoon after leaving a Decathlon meeting, murmuring he needed a skating partner today. To not take it personally, they wouldn’t hold hands or anything, but to make fun of someone else if they fall off the board or eat shit.

He had a feeling, and he thinks he’s right. That morning, Peter came in late, nearly dragged in by May because of a late night run-in with Silver Stable. With the scrapes and bruises from being dragged through Manhattan, he might as well have been dragged by a skateboard and not his web shooters.

So, they skateboarded.

And he did eat shit.

Ned, MJ, and Flash scold Betty for accidentally shoving the Monopoly board too far to the left, Ned yelling at Flash to stop cheating and taking his money. May comes in at the perfect time, yelling over the teenagers that she bought everyone’s sandwiches from the sub shop.

“May, you bring my camera in?” Peter asks through a full mouth of lettuce, bread, tomato, cheddar, and deli-meats, earning a light playful smack upside the head.

He doesn’t miss Flash’s furrowing brows, his body immediately freezing from across the kitchen island. She mutters, “Yes, Peter, next time I’ll make you walk a quarter mile in the snow for it.”

He snorts, earning a small, ‘smeck,’ on the forehead and watches May pass out the rest of his friends’ food and chips and drinks. He forgot what this was like, back in Europe with Ned when they felt independent on their own and like they could take on the world from a small, cramped space with all their friends.

“Hey, Peter, did you get an email back from that lawyer?” Ned asks, chewing loudly from his chips and turning back to him. His other half, the other part of his brain, oh, where would he be without Ned? “Remember, you said you’d get one.”

“Mm!” Peter exclaims with a full mouth, taking his phone out from his jean pocket. He doesn’t give the group any details, ever, just the public information the brand new firm allows to go to the press. They’ve strategic in their methods, and May was the most doubtful at first, but the two lawyers and impressive secretary were not as amateur as their clientele suggested.

He turns his phone screen to let May watch his email app load, slurping loudly on his drink while May sighs. “You know, I won’t miss that when you go off to school next year. I think you do it on purpose.”

“Hm, a schemer never tells.”

An email with the subject Please read by tonight, 12/11 which makes his stomach lurch. May hesitates, grabbing onto his hand holding the phone and her hand shakes slightly before she presses on the lock button. This could mean anything. His paranoia, the slight buzz constantly whirring behind him at all times from his senses could be triggered by anything and everything, could be confirmed by this email.

May squeezes his shoulder, ready to talk to the rest of the group once she notices his jaw lock-up in anxiety. “We did get an email. Come on, after you guys eat, we’ll do ice skating as promised.”

MJ continues with their conversation about MIT earlier, which leads to an argument over whether or not there truly is a class on street fighting mechanics, or do they call it that to glorify physics.

He knew forgetting about the email until he could be alone to read it with me would not help him at all. He excuses himself, picking his phone up and ignores the worrying glances from his friends.

Before he can think to text Tony, his caller ID flashes across the screen. “Hello?”

“ Hey, Peter ,” he begins, “I only have a few minutes to talk, Morgan’s taking a bath and is currently making bubble potions that may or may not be spilling over the bathtub. Wanted to check in on you..”

“Don’t let Morgan flood the bathroom again, Tony,” he says lightheartedly, knowing why he’s calling. “Listen, were you cc’ed into the lawyer’s email? I haven’t read it yet and—”

“Whoa, slow down kid,” he says, and Peter walks up the wooden stairs of the lodge, watching the living room between the wooden panels. He really needs to give Tony shit for inviting them to a cabin the size of his apartment complex floor. “ That actually is why I’m calling. They said Nelson has reason to believe Mr. Beck may be conspiring inside of the prison, but he can’t know for sure. This is not a reason to become anxious, okay?”

“What do you mean he’s conspiring?! ” Peter yelps, yanking the nearest door open in the long hallway and closing himself in with an unnecessary slam. “What reason does this lawyer have?”

He thinks his friends can hear him from downstairs, he knows May can.

“ Calm down ,” he chastises over the phone, his voice rough and quiet. Peter curses himself for making the man drop his own familial responsibilities for him, but his guilt complex the size of Manhattan won’t let him go through this by himself. Like he needs to. “ Don’t get worked up. I wanted to call and let you know I have someone looking into this even further, along with Murdock and Nelson. It’s probably just a threat out of boredom, probably got a smack on the wrist for staying out past curfew and he wants to take it out on everyone. ”

Peter sighs, sinking down onto the ceramic tile floor of the bathroom. It’s large, has fluffy white towels on a rack to his left, a large walk-in shower, and is bare of bath-mats but signs point to supplies under the sink. This is good, he thinks, he can ground himself.

The tile is cool on his hand, it’s freezing him through his jeans, one of the laces on his snow boots came undone, and he can hear Morgan screeching in the background over her magical bath potions that she’s going to make a mermaid out of.

“ You still with me? ” Tony’s voice comes through the other end of the phone, and he swears he can hear more crackling than usual. It might just be the snow drifting outside messing with the nearby towers and powerlines.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m right here.” His voice comes out even smaller than intended.

“Can I call you back? I need to call May now, and— Morgan, you can’t use scissors on the bubbles! ”

A sense of familiarity washes over Peter, and he succumbs to the feeling of safeness associated with Tony and Morgan. He’d been too close to death already. He was dead. And after navigating life without Tony for a while, he piled each responsibility like building blocks, a delicate glass structure he could shatter at any given moment, and Mysterio took a hammer to the glass. Thanos buried his glass structure, leaving part of him under with it.

“Yeah, Tony. Talk to you later. Miss you, too.”

The rest of the night goes on, and May prepares them all hot chocolate before she heads off upstairs to take a hot shower. The uneasiness never settled inside of him, a nemesis unwilling to leave him alone.

His heart thrums wildly in his chest, his hands shake and feel numb, and he wonders why .

Is it his body’s reaction to having to spend a few nights away from the city during their holiday trip, unable to patrol? Is it lingering stress from senior year, that he and May haven’t properly celebrated all of Hanukkah yet?

He must be incapable of relaxing, turning back to the couch where he’s curled up with 4 of his friends watching Home Alone 2.

“Hey, is anyone else’s toes feeling numb?” he turns to the group, watching them blearily blink at the TV from exhaustion.

“Your toes are numb ?” Flash asks from beside him on the floor, leaning against the couch with his head tilted to the side. He has no idea how that could be comfortable at all.

“Yeah, numb.”

He needed to keep talking to someone, hearing his friends talk, too. It might just be anxiety, or his PTSD symptoms bothering him. After Europe, the school forced everyone on the trip to attend at least one counseling session, and Murdock and Nelson had suggested the same when they took on the case early-autumn.

He wanted to take the advice, especially since it meant so much to May.

The cabin’s living room TV is quietly playing a documentary about the dangers of climate change and the remarkable effects the current generation will face when Peter’s jolted awake, his heart thudding in his chest and his alertness draws him from his sleep. He must’ve fallen asleep when he was in between MJ and Betty a couple of hours ago, he’s covered in a blanket and feels a pillow that wasn’t there before, supporting his neck- May’s doing- and it’s now when he realizes MJ isn’t beside him anymore, there’s too big of a gap on the couch.

He stills, not wanting to call out her name if she’s just using the bathroom or went back to her guestroom. Peter reaches his head over to check the time on the TV clock, and it’s nearing 2:30AM. The anxious feeling of danger looming in the distance, of now being watched returns and he needs to run some sort of perimeter check, maybe they have security--

“Peter!” he hears a distant shout from outside, a girl’s shout— and he immediately blanches. MJ .

His heart rate picks up, and he kicks the blanket off of him and stands. The snow is falling heavily outside, still, never seeming to let up and blocks out the nearby street lamps and backyard lamps. “MJ?!”

He turns to check if his whispering disturbed the others yet, but he decides he’ll go investigate first. He’s Spider-Man, he can head outside to check for her.

He turns to grab his oversized winter coat and his snow boots when he notices the backyard sliding door’s open— where he must’ve heard the scream from.

“Guys!” Peter shouts into the quiet living room, interrupting the warm peace from the TV playing and whatever phase of their sleep cycle there in. “Wake up! I think MJ”s outside!”

Peter runs out into the cold, a gust of wind hitting him immediately and causes his whole body to shiver while he shrugs his coat on for 25 centimeters of snow. It reaches his mid-calves and it seeps into his pants, each frozen entity stinging him and dragging him down into the ground while he runs— he doesn’t know where he’s running to, but his throat goes raw from screaming for MJ.

Frustrated none of his friends woke up in the wake of his own panic, his senses are screaming at him, danger, danger, danger , he’s too cold, his heart feels frozen. The low hum of his senses dial all the way to his limit. He screams and falls into a pile of snow on the ground, hiding himself from the danger that doesn’t seem to be there. Yet.

“MJ, where are you?” he screams, his mouth betraying him with the sound of wrecked sobs, desperacy ready to escape him, his eyes are wide and terrified. He gets back up, swaying on his own feet and he’s inhaling too many snowflakes, they’re everywhere.

He needs to find MJ, right now. She could be out here completely alone, but his senses won’t tell him where --

Before he can reach her piercing scream, the lamp post next to him flickers on, illuminated in green. His heart stops, and he feels the bile rising up inside of him.

No, no, no, no— not him, he’s supposed to be dead- wait, no, he’s supposed to be in prison—

Peter watches in pure anguish as the snow picks up, dangerous icicles falling from the lamp post and sky pierce his skin and he steps forward behind the shadows of the moonlight and snow, towering over him in his old suit he thought was destroyed. Was evidence, locked away to never be touched again.

Except it flickers away, into a cloud of smoke.

Maybe he’s hallucinating because he’s sick? He’s tired?

He has only gotten eight hours of sleep in the last three days, but what drove him so mad he came out here to the snow , the blizzard that seems to never let up-- the one that Mr. Stark mentioned-- is sending a small snowstorm to the boroughs of New York. Must be due to Global Warming.

The hum of a drone is loud, careening and he ducks his head before it strikes him, it nearly catches him and his breath won’t come out past the burning and aching in his throat.

Honestly, Peter assumed he’d be dead by now, no one telling him a word to protect him. Or, would it protect him even further to tell the truth that he is hidden away, rotting in a cell, truly plotting against him like Foggy Nelson said not to worry too much about.

“If you wanna save your city, you’re gonna need to come with me,” the familiar voice announces into the middle of the night, pushing him past his threshold of sanity and sends a wracking shiver down his spine and arms.

“I’m not really here, no, where would the fun in that be?” he replies smugly, probably watching from around the corner while Peter frantically runs back to the snow cabin to secure his family. “I need you to find me.”

He can only think about MJ, if this is an illusion she must be safe. What if he’s truly lying, crawling out of a grave somewhere in Manhattan where he was buried. Forgotten about. Rotting. For the last few months, he’s been here. Around every corner, lingering, falling behind every alleyway light to stay hidden. Quentin Beck has been the one watching him, it probably isn’t paranoid tendencies.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, get back inside NOW!” May shouts from behind him, his neck twisting to catch sight of her. His hands shake while he fishes somewhere in his pockets for his phone, hoping it didn’t get buried in the snow where he fell.

He feels heavy, like there’s two tons weighing over him and pulling him down into the ground even further, the slush eating away at his boots.

“May! Get away!” Peter shouts, his voice too raspy to be understood. “Find MJ inside!”

“Aw, Peter. Don’t worry about them, they’ll be safe right here, in the warm cabin under their warm blankets. Let’s hope the fireplace doesn’t catch anything around it, though,” Beck chuckles. “I think that’d be even enough for you getting me killed.”

“Killed? ” he exasperatedly asks, navigating his way back to the cabin and freezing in the dark. “You’re still alive. All of those people you killed in Europe are not .”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Beck says sharply, appearing right behind him. He can see him better this time, his hair is slightly grown out but gelled to the side. He’s wearing a black coat over this old shitty suit, completely concealed by his jacket. He clings to his helmet at his right side, Peter watches the inside fill up with snow.

Every miniscule detail, he can’t believe it. He can’t be here in front of him.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this. You know, I couldn’t wait any longer. You don’t deserve the title of Spider-Man, your big family. It was a big mistake letting them continue to believe Peter Parker is Spider-Man.”

“Because I will protect them. You can’t underestimate me, I got away from you last time. And now?” Peter steps towards Beck, going farther away from the snow cabin. “You can take me. Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Beck’s voice is layered in eagerness, like a child. “I’ll show you what I want and what I’m doing.

“And if you don’t? Millions are going to pay for what you did. You know, that Jester King, Tony Stark, he really played me when he played dead for months. He did. He takes my holographic system, I take it back from him through you. You try to get me murdered, now I take away what you love most.

“What I want?” he says, finger tapping on his chin in amusement. “That’s bringing you down along with everyone you love. Excuse me, I mean, after I bring down everyone you love.”

Beck signals a drone over to him, smiling pointedly and gleefully as he waves a projection over, projecting New York City in a small screen in between them. There’s barely any snow covering the city like the forecasts predicted, and he swallows hard for what’s about to happen.

If he was capable of all the infrastructure damage to Europe, each disaster caused by G-ddamn drones, he’s capable of bringing down a few boroughs in New York City.

He stares at Beck, refusing to look down at the projection in front of him. At this point, his clothes clings to him and if he isn’t hypothermic, he thinks he will be soon. This isn’t part of his illusion tech, no. This time it’s real.

“Come on, Pete!” Beck yells cheerfully, nudging his shoulder roughly to turn back to the drone. “Where’s the fun in it if you don’t get to see what’s gonna happen, huh?”

He calculates his options, watching from his peripheral the snow attack the city. Shouts are emitted from the drone. “At least it’s not like Europe! I have no problem using more of my illusion tech here, but I’ve got a show waiting for you in Manhattan.”

Peter stares hard at the screen, anger and malice replacing every other feeling he’s felt up to now. He thinks back to his illusions and what he knows , he’s been sitting on top of every secret about him, hoarding them, using them to manipulate them before and knowing his secrets work against him.

“Here, I’ll take you there through one of my drones. So you’ll know what it’ll feel like to be on 85th when I destroy it.”

Peter’s hidden in plain view under a fire escape, it’s 2AM in the city, but he can hear all the people that are outside. Dogs being walked late at night, late-night epiphanies happening on fire escapes in the light snow, taxi-drivers in the middle of their shifts, the nearby hospital emergency room full of trauma cases from car accidents from the slippery snow. It’s the quietest he’s heard in New York, and he’s looking around and making sure nobody’s lurking around any corners. He needs to give Beck what he wants, and get out of here to get to the real New York.

“Beck, NO!” he hears Ned scream from above him, and he runs from under the coverage of the fire escape and into the middle of the grimey alleyway to see Ned tethering on the edge of the 30 meter building. “You can’t do this, it’s not fair!”

Beck appears behind Ned, and he panics in search of his web shooter attachments and comes up short. He’s still in his soaked clothes from the snow cabin. “Peter! You’ve gotta help m—”

Peter screams Ned’s name, crawling up the building as far as he can before he can leap out to catch Ned. He misses, and Ned collapses to the ground.

An illusion, this isn’t real, none of this is real. It’s not real. Not real.

He gasps and tumbles onto the ground, landing back at the snow cabin.

“Let’s play another one, you haven’t seen the best part!”

He’s standing on a highrise building, in his Spider-Man suit, and he knows it’s still an illusion. The snow is falling even heavier than it did at the snow cabin, but it’s covering pedestrians walking around late at night or very early in the morning. Random people still out eating, teenagers skipping curfew, people leaving their office jobs far too late deemed acceptable

The snow covers the cars , and he can hear emergency coverage playing on radios and TV’s while the city falls into a panic over Beck’s illusions. The snow is it’s true amount, but he’s redirecting it everywhere through the stupid drones. He’s playing an illusion on his city.

He hears a child scream out for Spider-Man’s help, his daddy’s stuck under a car and he won’t stop bleeding. He’s trapped on this high-rise beam, paralyzed by something. Why can’t he just leap down, shoot his webs, he can see all the coverage he has to get to. Now.

He gasps when he feels two hands on his back, shoving him forward in anger. He sees Flash, balancing with him on this yellow beam full of venom as he says, “This is all your fucking fault!’

He listens, watching with his jaw dropped because he’s too stupid to do anything else. He doesn’t have anywhere to run, he brings his hands to his ears and shuts his eyes tight, he’s guessing what Beck’s putting illusion-Flash up to. This seems too simple, but he doesn’t want to play his chances. He wishes his city could see him right now, he’s their beacon, they aren’t collectively helpless.

“I’m done, Beck!” Peter shouts over the whistling wind and heavy snow. “I’m not running. You don’t have to do this.”

Darkness falls around him, it covers him and the snow, and Beck’s gone. His body’s equilibrium is off from being out in this avalanche, the snow now nearly up to his waist is pure agonizing wetness. There’s no more Manhattan skylines, or a cityscape at all, no more traumatized Flash, only the cabin with the porch light on.

Peter turns on his heels, running through the thick snow, holding onto himself, and starts racing in the snow. He keeps his eyes wide open despite the snow seeping into his eyes, he’s gone, the paranoia died down, the feeling of being watched simmered away like a light burning out. His legs feel like two tons of steel are weighing them down, and launches himself inside the door to find May, Ned, Flash, and to see if MJ is here.

He can almost sense where things are, he scoops a pile of snow off of his face and litters it to the ground, shrugging his jacket off which might be his worst decision of the night, his eyes feel blindfolded by the sleet.

“May!” Peter yells, holding back a sob sitting in the back of his throat, his voice quivering. “P-please. Please tell me you’re okay.”

He picks his lead feet up, waiting for an answer. He can sense bodies nearby, so they're here in the perimeter, but his senses have gone haywire after his encounter with the drone and Beck. Whatever frequency and illusions he uses, he feels less keyed now and less like he’s going to wake up from this nightmare.

He feels real.

“Baby?” he hears May whisper at the top of the stairs, now noticing the upstairs light flickered on and illuminating the living room and the stairs. He’s sisyphus climbing the stairs, his own body betraying him, and this is his punishment. Too weak to move right now, too weak to go hug May. To go tell his friends everything’s gonna be okay.

“It- it was him, May. I saw him,” Peter whispers, elation and adrenaline still coursing through his body. “He’s alive, I mean you already knew that but-- May, he was here. I have to go.”

“Peter,” May says carefully, lifting her arm that was protectively holding Ned back. He’s crying in a steady stream watching them at the top of the stairs from the bottom, he’s his own impossible boulder. He can’t reach them. He can’t get to the top.

She’s careful in her tone. “Why did you go outside? What did you see?”

“May, you have to believe me. I need to go to Manhattan— I have to send Mr. Stark a message and you-- you guys need protection,” he rambles breathlessly, half of his words ununciated, “I can’t let you guys die.”

“Okay, Peter,” May confirms, and he’s never seen her look so sad. She’s covered in moonlight, she’s backlit by the upstairs light, but he can’t see her eyes clearly like he usually can. And, oh fuck, he thought this was real— “Name five things you can see right now. Just five.”

“I— May, no, I need your car keys. I need my suit,” he says, watching his friends faces fall and hears their heartbeats pick up. “And MJ, she’s okay? She was screaming, and--”

May sighs, resigning, and takes a few steps down the stairs to meet his eyes. “Baby, are you having an episode?”

“May, no!—“

“I can help. We can all help. Nobody’s judging you, I know you didn’t find the best coping mechanisms, but—“

“Call Tony. Please. For me.”

“Okay,” May says, running a hand through his soaked curls and he feels her shaking movements, and he gently catches her hand.

“I’m so sorry, I brought this here.” He glances up at his friends, watching their own storms on their own faces, the aching, the fear caused by him. Ned’s quietly crying now, keeping his face as stoic as he can.

“Go, Peter. I’ll set security up around the perimeter,” Ned whispers bravely, swallowing back tears. “Just.. Can you tell us what you saw outside?”

Peter’s mind instantly flashes back to Ned’s body on the pavement in the illusion, and swallows the bile back down but allows more tears to fall. “I— He made an illusion about MJ. About all of you. Everyone was inside except for her. He’s in New York. Just like Foggy said.”

He turns outside to face outside, and it’s nearly morning now. The sun hides far on the low horizon, not daring to rise yet but is still covered by snowfall.

May finally relented, grabbing her cellphone to get in touch with Mr. Stark and Nelson and Murdock. It was Claire who answered first, insisting she talk to Peter. Her worries over the phone brought a wave of nausea over him, she described New York right now. There’s hail and snow slides and blizzards which should be impossible in their terrain. Peter tore his clothes off and put his suit on, feeling idiotic for wearing a jacket over his spider suit. Ned sets up his own perimeter check, signaling and coding spider-drones to confirm the validity of Beck’s own drones and keep an eye out for unwanted visitors.

He web swings 100,000 meters back to the city, internally thanking May for convincing Mr. Stark to only send them into upstate New York, not too far out into the mountains and terrain.

For once, the Parker Luck might be working on his side once he thwips off of the Statue of Liberty and soars through air with his webs and wings, back out towards the nearest island’s edge. He promises himself to come out here more often, especially in the snow. Whatever New York borough Beck is in, he isn’t nearby Ellis island, and his senses continue to buzz.

New York’s loveable grizzled seen-too-much detective is back in his home city, and he web-swings across vast swaths of water into his city through the heavy snow.

Beck lied to him. He had trusted him. He destroyed his image, causing him to flee from his real life for months . He told him he was a disappointment, and his goodness was a weakness. He watches teenagers play in Washington Square Park, tourists crawling to the nearest safe spots, and ice skaters somehow skating this late at night/early in the morning.

He swings off of the nearest building, listening out for an intel on Beck and he races through Manhattan. It’s an obstacle course for Beck, but not for Peter.

He hears a nearby construction site and a low groaning, something not good. If he reaches these construction sites with free equipment lying around for him to use, he needs to stop him in time before doing anything too drastic. He’s hoping his setup is randomized drones, secured away from the population like in the terminal he last fought him in.

But he knows this is highly unlikely.

Spider-Man finds Beck easily, scanning the construction site for any heat signatures, easily finding him and the drones. How he wanted to be found, near the heart of Manhattan.

“I must be honest, I am so glad to see you again, Petey,” Beck says, voice distorted and warped while he slowly walks further into the construction site, mapping each drop to the floor below or opening above, and each window covered in tarp. “My abilities, my talent, they can’t be stolen from me again.”

Peter turns, scanning via his suit for any signs of Beck, but his ocular scans come back distorted and something lands in front of him, his senses screaming at him at the last possible second and he stumbles into the ground.

Beck’s voice disappears further into the building, and he tries to follow it. He veers left, in a crouch and stumbles into storage bins. “I’ve been waiting for this moment. Admittedly, not for too long, but long enough.”

Peter’s warped back into the city, green gases swirling in the air and black fog consuming the city. No matter how hard it is to stay grounded, he stumbles into the nearest buildings, cars, and people.

“It’s not real,” he whispers to himself, not quite believing it.

“It’s going to be a shame when many people here will have to die, with Spider-Man buried in the snow,” his voice rings to his right, then above him. He sees Beck walking in the shadows of the plot, he follows as closely behind as he can.

Beck disappears above him, and he launches webs onto the nearest pillar, beaming up to the next floor. He leads himself through a new haze of fog, it spans wide and far and out into the real city where real residents live. He runs down a narrow hall, turning a corner into a wider area and sees Beck leading himself outside. He’s a few stories up, and can see Beck standing one story up from the ground.

“Stark wanted to use me. He did use me. Now, your precious lawyers want to destroy my life,” Beck sounds echoey, and it’s freaking him out, because how far away is everybody? Does he need to contact anyone else, like the PD?

“And where were you, Peter?” Beck asks, voice rising and thunderous, “ Living lavishly, spoiled, wealthily like a trust fund kid.”

Spider-Man jumps another floor down, sending another array of webs around the pillars of the building. He placed webbing on all three floors, following Beck’s path back down into the city where the lights will go dark.

“You knew what you were in for, kid, yet you fled,” Beck says bitterly, and he watches the green mist form back around him in his signature suit and helmet. “You couldn’t save yourself, you’re a cancer spreading in this city.”

“You will be exiled for what you did to me, and there will be no return back this time. You will have nobody to save you from your own track record.”

He internally yells, finding another structure to throw his webs. He needs a netting for when the infrastructure falls, undoing Mysterio’s work.

It’s dark, snow flurries escape from outside the plot, and Peter stills once he sees a pile of dead bodies in front of him. He can’t see his city like this, he refuses to get to this aftermath. He turns and runs to a quick stop in front of Beck on the walkway outside.

“I will bring this entire city down, do NOT underestimate me!” Mysterio shouts into the sky, the snow falling heavier into the city illuminated by the glow of the pink sunrise. “Just watch me do it.”

“I won’t let you!” Spider-Man yells, attacking the first drone Mysterio sets in front of him. He casts his webs onto it, launching it into Mysterio. He hears yelps from below, hoping everyone takes the hint and leaves, no matter their commute.

“I said I WILL destroy your city,” Mysterio outcries, sending a thunderous wave of force into the ground, shaking the perimeter and the building’s core.

“ Uh-oh, ” he panics, flipping off the ground and avoiding the skittering and electrical impulses he sends waves of. He’s electrocuted, and he scrambles back far, watching big chunks of cement fall off of each floor's foundation, and he gasps as he tries to catch each piece before it lands onto the street below.

They’re on top of the high rise now, the top of U.N. headquarters, right at the edge. He gasps, watching the plot they were just in a few moments ago crumble to the ground. The screams from the street below ache his bones, and he’s too far away, no—

He’s right inside, but he can’t fucking see where he is, if he walks forward he’ll fall off the building, he’s sure of it. There aren’t any grips for his webs, and he shakes along with the front. There’s more cold wind, sending chills throughout his body. He sees May holding onto the edge of the building, he recognizes her rings. Her fingers desperately cling for life, her blood curdling screams rush into his ears. Everything below them is so small, and he steps closer to the edge of the building where the snow drifts down below them.

This isn’t real.

Beck is playing him, again, and he’s somehow winning right now. He sucks a breath in through his nose, shuts his eyes, and remembers the fate of New York is in his hands. It’s out of Tony’s, out of the PD’s, out of everyone else’s hands but his. It’s his uphill battle, and he hopes the boulder doesn’t fall over the edge.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he aims his arms nefariously to catch each boulder, hears each gust of wind and each terrifying pull of gravity giving the boulder more energy, and he strikes each boulder to stop from collapsing the building.

Mysterio’s making him vulnerable again, and the curtain’s close in front of him. He sprints into the dark before anything can appear, thwipping his webs out into the Manhattan buildings now that the construction site is taken care of.

He listens out for Beck, listening to the buzzing carrying him away in real life, making the city more vulnerable the further he goes.

May is counting on him. She was certain he was having a paranoid episode, and it probably contributed to what he saw, but they’re counting on him. The real Mysterio is right here, heart drumming wildly from his adrenaline. He has no room for error again/

He ignores an incoming phone call from Matt in his mask, catching up to Mysterio transporting to below the Chrysler building. He thrusts his entire body into the velocity of his webs, falling dangerously slow to the ground and ascends straight into the heavy snow.

Spider-Man catches up to Beck on a new rooftop, taking a giant leap off of the Chrysler building to the supporting one below. He glides, landing on the rooftop. He’ll never be tired of the feeling of falling, the snow emulating the act even more and he moves faster.

He runs into him from above, tackling Mysterio to the ground.

Mysterio’s upgraded tech clatters across the ground, and the storm does not clear at all. None of the hail stops, the buildings shake in anticipation for a disastrous fall. Peter sees stars when he swings his arm back, landing a punch on him and immediately getting striked in the head by a drone.

Beck grabs Peter by the neck, using his size on him to slam his head back into the brick wall of the building. He kicks himself off the wall, tackling him and hits him. He strikes, producing red, blue, and purple contusions that the snow can’t cover now. He attempts to yank his helmet off to strike more skin, avoiding drone strikes surrounding him.

“She’s ready!” Mysterio shouts, shoving Spider-Man off and he’s too frozen to strike any of the drones now in formation, in an arrow.

Like a deck of cards shuffling, he watches a new scene in front of him, where his webbing failed and crushed a few dozen meters of buildings crushed under rubble, dust and snow swirling in the sky while the city bursts into haunting tears.

Spider-Man quickly recovers, shaking under his webbing that attaches to the drones, flying at full force. He tries to web them all up, but they relentlessly demolish and set flame to each high-rise nearby. He watches the city crumble, the tarmac of the streets withering under destruction, and he watches helpless people fall into these abysses along with cars and tons of snow, and he tugs on his webs.

“S..See, I was ri—ght, I will kill everyone you love— we will be back.”

He stops one drone, but halts to a stop when the drones crash into another building. He hooks Beck’s suit into a drone, finally having the upperhand and more leverage on the older man. He uses his free hand to grab the helmet, slamming his face into the drone repeatedly, watching the glass break and shatter, cutting him up.

Peter continues to land blows to the face, red blooming and turning to blues and purples around his face. His nose is bloodied, his mouth is ripped apart, and glass shards cut him further. He hopes his head slumps forward, watching an avalanche in the distance makes it way towards fucking Manhattan. His own chest flickers in pain, and he looks down to see the suit torn in half at his chest to reveal a pool of blood thickening. He checks to see if Beck is unconscious, they can hardly hold onto the crashing drones in flight.

He presses the controls, any, hoping to override his coding and deactivate them. This is all too familiar, he must be behind him, waiting. He’s hauled through the sky, grazed against each apartment complex and school and office buildings. He’s woozy, spinning in the air at a high velocity and they begin to crash head-on into FEAST, and his heart lurches.

He sees black.

He’s buried deep in the snow, searching for a pocket of air to breathe through and begin digging from. He can’t feel his hands, but he blindly flops around, trying his hardest to hold his screaming back and failing. His suit is soaked through, offline, and the seams tore and burned his skin with pure frozen snow.

He gasped, not remembering if Matt called back or not, did he ever answer the call? Was the call an illusion? He hears more blood curdling screams surrounding him, and this is real. Not an illusion. Real, real, or.. Fake?

He screams into the dark, the irony of the white-reflecing snow drenching him in blackness. Pounding fear in his body, his veins giving up on him, his cells killing him. Frozen. Only fear courses through each neuron and each cell.

Not knowing if Beck destroyed his city, his family—

He needs out, maybe this is an illusion. Is he back to a few months ago, not believing anything is real? He didn’t see Beck, but he heard him, he should be dead from those drones.

He stares into the finally relenting sky, wondering if he escaped his sisyphus destiny. His vision falls into another illusion, everything’s black, but no this is real, he’s real. He succumbs to exhaustion instead.

His body feels too heavy, he slumps down weakly and lies on his left side.

“I just said, found him outside of FEAST--”

“And what the hell were you doing there?--”

“Does it matter? I called him, he ignored me, and we knew the consequences when we agreed to take on this case--”

“Matt, it’s alright. Foggy, take a breath. You both handled it well.”

He’s in a car. The low hum soothes his aching body and it smells like clorox and blood in here.

“He lost a lot of blood on the scene, he’s hypothermic, for hell’s sake! Do not antagonize me right now.--”

“—We’re not!—“

“He’s a kid. He doesn’t deserve this. Matt, this is extraordinarily worse than when I found you half dead on your couch, already writing your eulogy because I didn’t think I could save you. You were doing it all alone, and I—“

He hears cloth moving around, probably a hand rubbing their back.

“We have it handled.”

“What do you mean handled?! You mean a just as self-sacrificial vigilante clad in red that’s a total maniac? Possible psychopath mercenary? With pool in their name?!”

“Foggy, calm down before your artery bursts.”

Pans clattering and humans talking around him awoke him, and he could’ve sworn he was just at Nelson and Murdock’s law firm in search of a first-aid kit. The talking is what he becomes most aware of when he returns slowly to consciousness, able to feel his limbs.

“Hmfh,” he hums, burying himself further into the warmer clothing he’s wearing and the familiar Hello Kitty blanket a 6 year old he knows owns. The pillows feel like homes, though.

“Welcome back, walking dead,” Tony greets, waving someone over from beside him. He’s walking in from around the corner where the kitchen is, a familiar smell of his favorite chocolate babka simmering through the air. Tony sits down beside him, feeling the couch cushion sink down. He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing his shoulder and sighing. Peter props himself up on one elbow, his smile returning when he sees May run into the room and tackle him into the couch cushions with a hug.

“I’m so sorry for not believing you, honey,” May tears up, pulling back to take a closer look at him. He’s hyper aware of his surroundings, his memories slowly fade back in. He sees the confusion run across her face, and she makes no move to bring it up. “You did so good.”

The next few days result in the same ways. He’s bedbound for now, receiving updates by his own lawyers that the city isn’t suing him for damages this time and that local vigilantes and authorities are cleaning up the city. He was an open book to his family and friends, splayed out for all of them to pick, poke, and prod at.

Even with the best intentions, they were overbearing.

He spent most of his newfound freetime continuing his part-time jobs. His photography job at the Daily Bugle is allowing him, graciously, to write articles in the meantime he’s out of photo-commission. He picked up writing articles for Nelson and Murdock, who were still a mess.

He and May both had many emotions over this, what this meant for his recovery, and how he won’t put his recovery on the back-burner.

They all avoid talking about him. Where he is, what happened. News articles never seem to reach him.

Closer to Christmas during the time his friends celebrated, he can’t help but feel isolated and the paranoia coils through him once again. He needs to begin recovery slowly, because he can’t handle being separated from Tony, Pepper, and Morgan currently, and especially May when she leaves for work or to pick up groceries.

Despite receiving a scholarship to MIT, all of his trauma probably counts out any chance of college anytime soon. He doubts he can go back to being a normal person, preparing every possible scenario for when he returns, and he feels like begging on his knees for help. He and May pass more time saving up for tuition money, just in case.

He’s safe now. He’s home. He waits for the other shoe to drop. For the boulder to fall off the top of the cliff.

#irondad fic exchange #irondad fic exchange 2020 #peter parker #spiderman #quentic beck #mysterio #fics #my fics #fic recs #marvel #mcu #hurt/comfort #found family #team red #if u squint #spider-man far from home #irondad #irondad and spiderson

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the-silvr-speedster · 4 years

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The Totally Crazy Adventures of the Astro Ambassadors

Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Relationships: Daisy Johnson / Daniel Sousa, Daisy Johnson & Kora, Kora & Daniel Sousa

After they return from their six-month mission in space, Daisy, Daniel and Kora want just a bit of peace and quiet before they are shipped off on another space adventure. But Mack has other plans for them since they are needed for one more short mission. However, things might not go according to plan and without the extraction team, they have to rely on a teleporting device they've never used before.

Chapter 1: Just One More Adventure

Read on AO3 or here ↓

I teased last week that I am working on something and now I deliver. It took me longer then anticipated, the story started to write itself so it was taking different turns than those I originally planned, and I was unfortunatelly most productive only from midnight until 4 a.m. Anyway, here is my new multichapter fic. I hope you like it. Updates should come every week on Wednesday. Hopefully.

I am sorry for any mistakes. I don’t have a beta.

So, the story begins in October 2020 (oh, how much I would love to live in their corona-free universe), about four months after the one year jump in the last episode.

It will totally make my day better if you leave kudos, comments or reblog this. I need positive motivation.

Happy reading!

“I like this,” Daisy mumbled contently, twirling a reddish maple leaf in her fingers absentmindedly. She was sprawled on a blanket with her head placed on Daniel’s lap, watching the rustling leaves of the maple tree above her.

It was a nice day in early October. Warm enough for a picnic at their favorite spot in a park yet a bit chilly with the fresh autumn breeze but that was nothing a warm blanket and hot cocoa couldn’t solve.

Daniel stopped reading a book and looked down at her with a smile. “What in particular?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” Daisy said unsure, meeting his eyes. “This? Right now, right here. Us. The peace and quiet,” she paused before looking at him again. Seeing his amused expression, she added: “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I can appreciate peace and quiet.”

“Uh-huh. Right. But only for so long before you barge into another storm…or cause it,” Daniel laughed at her mock offended pout.

Daisy playfully smacked him on the arm. “That’s not true and you know it. I don’t cause problems anymore. I am the commander of Zephyr-3.”

“Hmm…Termans would disagree,” Daniel chuckled.

“Hey!” She gasped. “That was on Kora, not me!”

“If you say so,” Daniel shrugged and picked the book up again, a teasing grin spreading on his face. “Quake.”

Daisy groaned. If she ever thought that he’s gonna drop the whole Quake thing after some time, she had never been more wrong. Not when most of the universe out there knows her as Quake.

“Don’t push your luck Danny-boy.”

“Or what? You quake me?” He asked her with a raised eyebrow and a glint in his eyes.

“Definitely not. It’s not a punishment when you actually want it,” she winked at him teasingly. “No, you will sleep on a couch.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t do that.”

“Yes, I would,” Daisy stuck her tongue out and then yelped when Daniel proceeded to tickle her. “You…really…wanna…find…out,” she managed to get out in between giggles.

When he finally stopped his attack, she took a moment to catch her breath, watching his smug expression. “You are a dork,” she said with a huge grin.

“I love you, too,” he told her, a tender smile playing on his lips.

She sat up and cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. Daniel leaned into her touch and placed his hand on top of hers, the engagement ring on her finger lightly pressing against his palm. He moved her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on her fingers, his eyes never leaving hers. Well, forget the cocoa, this warmed Daisy up much more. She closed the distance between them bringing their lips together in a short but sweet kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered like it was a secret kept just between the two of them. Their faces lingered close to each other for a while longer, just to enjoy their little bubble. Daisy then changed her position and leaned against Daniel’s side. He snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer and placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing the forgotten book again.

Daisy let out a content sigh. “This is what I meant. I like being out there, exploring the universe with you and Kora and our team but…I love this, too. I missed it for those six months we were away. Just the two of us enjoying some time together without other people and…mission updates and…looming threats…” She looked up at him and let out a soft laugh. “I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

“I like listening to your rambling,” he said and kissed her temple again. “And I know what you mean. I feel the same way. I like our adventures but I love our time together. Just the two of us. But hey, we have a couple of months before the next mission is scheduled. So, we are okay.”

“Yeah. We have a wedding to attend to,” Daisy grinned at him.

“Uh-huh.” Daniel looked at her with a small smile. “That wouldn’t be very nice if we didn’t show up there now, would it?”

“It definitely wouldn’t. We are too important,” she laughed lightly and put her head on his shoulder.

Daniel shifted his focus to the book again but before he resumed the reading, a memory crossed his mind and he let out a chuckle.

“What?” Daisy asked curiously.

“You know, the first time we came here to have a picnic you said ‘How very square of you’ and how sappy and tooth-rottingly sweet we sound and look. Sitting here under the tree, me reading to you, you laying on a blanket with your head in my lap always trying to hide that big smile of yours…and failing,” he laughed and shook his head. “And now…”

“And now I say I like it,” she mumbled into his shoulder and cringed as she said it. “I think I just…I guess I blame you for that,” she told him lightly.

“Me?” he asked jokingly, turning his head to look at her but Daisy kept staring at her fingers, playing with the engagement ring on her left hand.

“Yeah. I’ve never thought I would like something like this before I met you. An ordinary life. Well, as ordinary as one can get while still working for S.H.I.E.L.D.,” she chuckled softly. “And even before joining S.H.I.E.L.D….I’ve never thought I could have this. I just couldn’t see it for myself, growing up the way I did. And later I’ve thought I…I don’t deserve this.”

“Daisy- “

“So yeah. Uh…I still think we are overly sweet sometimes but…” she looked up and met Daniel’s warm brown eyes, “I like it. I always did. I’ve just never thought I could be this person. And I have you to thank for that. You showed me that I can be this person…that I deserve a little normalcy in my life.” She lowered her gaze again, her hands picking at his shirt this time. “That I deserve to be loved and to love.”

“Of course, you deserve it. You deserve the best things in the universe,” Daniel put the book down and ran his hand through her hair before cupping her cheek and guiding her face to look up at him again. There were unshed tears shining in her beautiful eyes. She tried to blink them away offering him a watery smile. But then with a little shake of her head, she switched back to her joking self.

“Gah! Even now I sound so corny! I don’t even recognize myself sometimes. Kora says you are rubbing off on me. Making me a dorky square like yourself,” she smirked and poked him in the chest. “She says it’s annoying. But you know what? I don’t care.”

Daniel gave her his best lopsided grin. “Because you love this dorky square?”

“Yep. Exactly,” Daisy flashed him the biggest smile. “And…I like to annoy my little sister.”

They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of Daisy’s phone. She sighed as her hand dived into the back pocket of her jeans, fishing it out. She cursed silently as she saw the caller ID flashing across the screen. There go peace and quiet.

“We were pushing our luck earlier. It’s Mack,” she informed Daniel with a sad smile, knowing that whatever it is, it will involve getting back to work, even if it’s Sunday.

“Hey Director, what’s up?” she asked him lightly.

“Hey Tremors,” Mack started with a tired sigh. The man just keeps working too much. “Listen, I know that it’s a weekend and you’ve just got back from space few days ago but I need you to come in. Both of you, assuming Sousa is there with you.”

“What’s going on? You sound tired,” Daisy remarked worriedly.

“I’ll disclose the details when you get here. Come as soon as you can,” he replied.

“Okay. Uh, we can be there in…thirty?” She said, uncertain, meeting Daniel’s eyes for confirmation. He nodded.

“Great. See you then.”

“See ya.” Daisy kept her eyes on Daniel and shrugged as the call ended.

“So, I guess we won’t finish the chapter today,” he commented, book in hand.

“I guess not.”

⁂

When the duo arrived at Triskelion some twenty minutes later, they bumped into Kora in the lobby. She looked a little disheveled, annoyed expression plastered on her face.

“I guess Mack called you guys, too. On Sunday of all days,” she mumbled with a hoarse voice.

“Were you…sleeping?” Daisy asked her, raising her eyebrows.

“And? It’s Sunday. We came back from space four days ago. I have a lot of sleep to catch up on. And I can finally sleep in a normal bed,” she defended herself fiercely.

“Ooookay. Let’s go find Mack and get this over with so we can all go home and relax…or whatever,” Daisy offered and started to walk towards the elevators.

When they reached Director’s office, Mack opened the door before they even had the time to knock. He quickly ushered them inside and closed the door behind them.

“What- “ Daisy started but Mack cut her off.

“Sagittarians contacted HQ earlier today. They want to meet up and discuss a potential alliance.”

“You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Daniel remarked and Mack just shrugged.

“Are you kidding me?” Daisy spoke up a little too loudly, clearly frustrated. “We stopped on Berhert less than two weeks ago on our way home and they refused to talk to us. What changed?”

“They didn’t care to elaborate on that. But they want to meet up today,” Mack informed the three agents.

“Yeah, that’s funny. Since it will take us almost two days to get there. It’s three jumps away and the jump drive needs to charge in between the jumps…so…not today,” Kora explained as she plopped into a chair with a heavy sigh.

“They know that. That’s why they are sending someone to get you,” Mack stated, his hand scratching his beard in thought. “Apparently, they have some kind of advanced tech for interstellar travel without the need to use a spaceship.”

“Well, they are known for their impressive technology. That much we gathered about them by visiting other planets. We didn’t see much ourselves since they didn’t give us the permission to land,” Daisy grumbled still frustrated after the last encounter with the aliens.

“But isn’t it just a different version of our jump drive?” Daniel asked, leaning against Mack’s table. “Like the one we have on the Zephyrs but it moves just people around the galaxy?”

“No. These jump drives…we didn’t invent them,” Mack tried to clarify. “We got one from a crashed Confederacy ship and recreated more, thanks to Deke. So, yeah, he basically stole the technology. The original one could teleport even people themselves without the need of a spaceship. But it was always a one-way trip unless there was another jump drive on the other side.”

“Meaning?” Daniel gave him a confused look.

“Meaning that whatever tech Sagittarians possess, they are probably teleported with the device in hand,” Daisy explained to him and then turned to face Mack. “But Deke redesigned the original jump drive to be wearable. Remember? He used it to get to the temple.”

“And failed to get back to the Lighthouse,” Mack remarked. “Look, whatever they have, we’ll see soon enough. But I have to say, having a device like that in S.H.I.E.L.D. would be very useful. You guys wouldn’t have to spend so much time drifting in between planets and could spend more time at home.”

“Sleeping in a normal bed,” Kora added dreamily.

Daisy raised an eyebrow at her and sighed. She had to admit that it would be a much more comfortable way for visiting planets.

“So, what are our orders Director?” she asked.

“Suit up. They’ll come to get you in two hours,” he paused, thinking. “If they will be willing to trade one of those devices, we have to come up with a suitable counteroffer.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Daniel shrugged. “Considering how they refused to talk to us only to change their mind so suddenly. I don’t really trust them.”

“We’ll do our best and see how that goes,” Daisy fixed everyone with a determined gaze. “Let’s suit up.”

“Just one more adventure for the Astro Ambassadors before a few months break,” Daniel muttered pushing himself off the table.

Kora groaned and Daisy shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she led the way out of Mack’s office so they could get ready for their new mission.

⁂

Two hours later they were all gathered in the HQ’s hangar waiting for the Sagittarians to show up. Wearing her Quake suit, Daisy was shuffling her feet nervously, standing between Mack and Daniel. She couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was just something unsettling about the way the Sagittarians changed their mind so fast. She doesn’t know much about them but what she does know is that they are a monarchy led by a princess called Daydra who may or may not have some dispute with her uncle who is the head of their military. The last thing Daisy wanted was to get mixed up in family affairs and instead of a new ally make a new enemy. Daniel, being as observant as ever, took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She offered him a grateful smile in return.

Suddenly they were startled by a bright blue light in front of them. They shut their eyes to block the light and when they opened them again two tall grey-skinned aliens stood before them. One was a male and the other was a female, both looking like warriors. The woman had long black hair woven into a braid and her dark grey eyes were studying the humans in front of her cautiously yet with a drop of curiosity. Slightly taller than her, the man had an impressive white mustache and was bald with-

“Is that…a fin on his head?” Kora whispered in Daisy’s ear from behind.

“I…think so?” Daisy whispered back.

“Greetings Terrans. My name is Brodin,” the guy with the fin spoke. “I am a Captain of the Royal Guard and I and my second-in-command, Adlynn, were tasked to bring you to our planet Berhert for the scheduled meeting with Princess Daydra, our fearless leader.”

The group of humans shared a look between each other before Mack spoke up.

“I am Alphonso MacKenzie, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Welcome to Earth. I believe we spoke to each other when you contacted us this morning.”

“That is correct. I see you assembled the small team you wanted to send as emissaries since you will not be attending personally,” Brodin commented, pointing his hand towards Daisy, Daniel and Kora.

“Yes. They are some of our best agents,” Mack looked at the trio standing by his side with a proud smile. “Leaders of the special team tasked with space exploration and acquiring new allies…and assessing the threats from outer space.”

“That has been a wise decision on your part. There are many threats out there,” Adlynn spoke for the first time.

“Yes. We had enough bad luck to cross paths with some of them,” Mack remarked with a sigh. “So, anyway, this is Agent Daisy Johnson,” he put his big hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “She is in command of Zephyr-3 and its space exploring team.”

Daisy smiled at the two aliens and gave them a nod.

“Next to her,” Mack continued, “is Agent Daniel Sousa. He is her second-in-command or a first officer on Zephyr-3.”

“Nice to meet you.” Daniel, as polite as ever, offered them a hand to shake but Daisy could hear an edge to his voice, which was missing its usual warm friendliness.

“Likewise,” Brodin replied with a neutral voice and shook Daniel’s hand as did Adlynn.

Daisy sighed in relief because she could still vividly remember the time when Daniel offered a handshake on a planet where it was considered inappropriate due to rules of no physical contact in public. She had to quake a guard off of him and then explain in length that they didn’t know it was forbidden since on Earth it’s a gesture of friendship. They barely evaded the prison and were immediately exiled from the planet, never to return back. It was impossible to learn the etiquette rules of all the planets before they visited them.

“And finally, this is Agent Kora Johnson. She is one of our best pilots and a valued member of this team,” Mack pointed to Kora who in the meantime moved to stand on Daniel’s other side.

“We came to your planet like ten days ago and you refused to let us land,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Kora!” Daisy hissed warningly while Daniel tensed beside her and Mack ran his hand down his face with a sigh.

“What? It’s the truth. We came as emissaries too and they refused to talk to us. Now they are suddenly willing to,” Kora voiced her concerns.

“We are deeply sorry for that. There was…a misunderstanding on our end that had nothing to do with you,” Adlynn explained with a sad smile.

That seemed to calm Kora down a little but it sparked some suspicions in Daisy’s head. But this was nor time or place to be voicing them.

“It’s okay,” Mack assured them.

“If these are your most trusted agents who can speak on your behalf at the meeting with Princess Daydra, it is my duty now to bring them to our planet safely,” Brodin announced.

“Yes, they have all my trust,” Mack nodded and put his hand encouragingly on Daisy’s shoulder. “Agents, good luck,” Mack added, looking from Daisy to Daniel and Kora who both nodded at him.

“Thank you, Director.” Daisy squeezed his arm in response.

“Thank you, sir,” Daniel said at the same time.

“Let’s go then,” Brodin suggested and held a spherical device, slightly smaller than a soccer ball, in front of him. “Please stand in a circle as close to the device as possible.”

“If I may ask,” Mack spoke up again, “what is that thing?”

“It’s an interstellar and interdimensional teleportation device,” Brodin explained. “It allows us to travel anywhere in the universe or even between the universes. Although I am not sure how much you Terrans know about the Multiverse.”

“It’s the same as multiple timelines, right?” Daisy asked, unsure.

“Yes, but it’s more than just that,” Brodin muttered, looking down at the device he was holding.

“Then, yes…uh, we know something about it,” Daisy looked at Daniel and Kora with an amused grin on her face.

“I am pleasantly surprised. Many races out there have never heard of it,” Adlynn commented, excitement visible in her eyes. “You are much more advanced than we thought.”

“Not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult,” Daniel whispered into Daisy’s ear and she tried hard not to smile.

“Yeah,” Mack sighed, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “you could say we discovered a lot in the past ten years or so.”

“Maybe your friends will share some of those discoveries with us. I would like to hear all about them. They are usually accompanied by interesting stories,” Adlynn couldn’t hide her excitement anymore.

“Sure,” Daisy said, “but you know, these things go both ways. We share if you do too.”

“This will be a very interesting meeting, I can tell,” Adlynn smiled while Brodin shook his head with a sigh.

“That’s why we should be going, Adlynn,” he noted dryly and held the device in the middle of their small circle.

“Of course, Captain,” Adlynn tried to compose herself and warned the trio of humans: “Get ready.”

Daisy grasped both Daniel’s and Kora’s hands in each of hers. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of them in the vacuum of space or whatever. She didn’t know how that device worked.

Suddenly they were all enveloped by the blue light emitting from the device in the middle. Somehow, in some way, it reminded her of Gordon’s powers.

Next Chapter →

I wrote this and the next chapter as one big chapter but decided to split them up...it was too long and I know some people prefer shorter chapters. This is the calm before the storm.

Both planets mentioned here exist in the MCU (Guardians of the Galaxy vol.2) but the Sagittarians were not mentioned so I took them out of the comics (I've never read any of them). Princess Daydra and her uncle exist in the comics the rest is made up.

So that's it then. Thanks for reading. Stay safe and see you all next week!

#the totally crazy adventures of the astro ambassadors #daisy/daniel #daisy johnson x daniel sousa #daisy x sousa #daisy & kora #daisy johnson & kora #dousy #dousy fic #astro ambassadors #fanfiction #my fanfiction #mine #agents of shield #daisy johnson #daniel sousa #kora

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doodlingstuff · 3 years

Text

Neil’s (fake) B-day

Let’s celebrate my boy’s birthday with some fluff :)

All likes, shares, kudos and comments make my day shine. Thanks for reading ❤

***

( Chapter 14 of Comeback)

Andrew was definitely allowing himself to get carried away by Neil’s joy, otherwise, there is no logical explanation as to why he is driving the pipe dream towards the stadium instead of Fox Tower after he got Abby’s clearance to get back to classes. They could be using each other time’s in more pleasant ways, but then again, Neil loves his newfound family and all their nonsense. And Andrew is no one to take that away from him. Even less after everyone thought they’d lost him for good. Twice.

Matt’s massive truck and Allison’s hideous atrocity are already there when they arrive. Neil is still too unsteady to walk that much from the parking lot to the court on his own, and he is too stubborn to use any walking aid, but Andrew has proved his talent as a reliable walking stick, so he lets the striker hold to his arm and squeeze it all the way.

As Andrew knew beforehand, the lounge is covered with streamers, balloons, confetti, and an enormous Happy Birthday sign.

Every Fox approaches Neil with a big smile. Some dare to pat him on the shoulder and Matt ruffles his hair. Almost everyone gives him presents and of course, the boy looks lost. He turns to see Andrew, but it wasn’t his idea, so he won’t make it easy, although there is the faint ghost of a smile trying to break free as Neil gets more and more confused.

“Happy birthday kid.” Coach is the last one to approach and the striker finally finds it in him to talk.

“Thank you? It’s-It’s not my birthday, tho”

His comment is received by a well-deserved couple of pairs of eye rolls.

“Some things never change, do they?” Aaron asks. Her cheerleader shushes him with an elbow on the ribs. Maybe Andrew doesn’t hate the woman that much after all.

“Sweet baby, don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday,” Nicky says.

“It’s March 31, Neil! We promised you a party!” Matt follows with one of his brightest smiles.

The auburn-haired turns to look at Andrew as if he’d had any part in that. He was only the driver and his attention is drifting away from the happy reunion as he eyes the big cake on the back. That may be worth the bother.

“Told you my birthday was in January,” Neil says, clearly uncomfortable.

“And you were getting killed then.” Allison goes on. “You deserve a birthday party. Even if it’s not your real birthday.”

“But-”

“Lookit this way,” Nicky interrupts. “You get to celebrate twice every year. Sounds like a dream.”

Neil looks like he wants to keep arguing, but Wymack steps in before. “Shut the fuck up before I get sick. These morons made you a party. Enjoy it and stop looking like a stray cat for once.”

The next argument in Neil’s tongue dies as everyone starts to roll food around. They are smart enough to restrain themselves from singing and the cake finally arrives. Since the junkie is happy talking to everyone and watching wide-eyed all his presents, Andrew can distract himself by seeing how many slices of birthday cake he can eat before getting sick of it. As if that was possible. It’s easier for Kevin to die from diabetes just by watching.

"Alright. Time to get serious.” Wymack is clapping to get everyone’s attention after they all are stuffed and ready to pass out. It takes almost fifteen minutes for the team to clear their heads and gather in the sofas around their Coach.

“As you know, we are too far away to have a normal championship, but after how things unfurled for the Ravens,” He spares a brief glance towards Andrew that the twin dismisses “They decided to get them back to their original district. That said, championships will be only a single round of deathmatches to be played on the same day. Winner teams will be qualified by points scored. The two best go directly for the championship and the rest can wait until next season.”

“I still don’t know which team we will be facing but from now I tell you that for once, it doesn’t matter the score. This year had brought a shitload of problems I hope I never have to face again, but we made it to this round, so let's take the chance as best as we can and keep showing we are not a joke anymore.

Wymack is faster to keep talking before his shortest striker speaks “As for you Neil, don’t even expect to play more than five minutes. You are allowed back to practices, but I will strangle you myself if you pull another fucking stunt in the court. Depending on how you do and in the remote chance we pass, I might think about letting you play the full final match. Doubts?”

Everyone shook their heads or deny. Andrew can’t take the perspective of getting back to practices, but Neil is radiating energy only with the perspective of five minutes on a match, so he abstains from complaining as Kevin starts talking endlessly about every single plan and strategy he’s plotted during the past months.

Andrew can’t wait to get out of there, but if Neil is happy, he can stay a bit longer.

Campus is swollen by darkness when they get out of the gathering. Nicky spends the short ride speaking, as he always does, and Kevin is making a tantrum from traveling in the back. Andrew can’t care less. If he doesn’t like it, he can walk to Fox Tower or catch a ride with the rest.

When they arrive at the building, Andrew takes Neil’s duffel bag and motions towards the elevator. The junkie is about to protest, but he is finally learning to tell when he’s tired and the night hasn’t ended for them, so he steps into the elevator.

Andrew has the door of the dorm open for Neil. They step in and the blond makes way to the bedroom. He dumps the duffel bag on the bed and looks for the things he stuffed in there before heading out.

“Wait.” There it goes. The cogwheels inside the junkie’s brain finally move. Nicky and Aaron pause their silly game to see “This is not my dorm.”

“It is now.” Neil looks for the lie in Andrew’s eyes and then he sees Nicky laughing as bills pass between him, the other twin, and even Kevin.

“You are such a cute thing. Andrew kicked Aaron out as soon he knew you weren’t dying.”

Neil looks startled from Nicky’s gigantic smile to Andrew’s shrug. They had shared enough nightmares and had slept together so many times for it to be a scandal, but it was until then when the blond realizes he didn’t ask. He just acted out of spite because he wanted to have Neil close.

A big smile spreads on the striker’s face and then he follows Andrew to the roof.

After three cigarettes, Andrew still can’t find how to get this over with. They had talked about bigger demons before. They had shared more intimacy. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Still, his voice is almost scared when he talks.

“Enjoyed your party?”

Icy eyes send a wave of shivers down his spine. “I guess. I’ve never had one.”

“And you won’t ask me why I didn’t get you a present?”

“Do you want me to? I don’t need presents. And you had given me much more.”

“Then shut up.” He says and finally drops the contents of his pocket in Neil’s hands.

Minutes pass before the striker can talk again. “My phone and keys.”

“You left them on purpose.” There is a hard swallow traveling down Neil’s throat.

“Told you I never thought I’ll stay. And... I couldn’t be Neil Josten in the Nest. If I took these, they would’ve been more reminders of the life I couldn’t have anymore.”

“You have it now.” The official IDs sent by Kengo are still unbelievable to Neil. He nods as he grips the objects in his hands. The proofs that he is real, that he didn’t come out from Andrew’s drugged mind and he will stay. Probably.

“And this is your present.” The blond drops a packet of cigarettes in Neil’s lap. He looks bewildered and attempts to give them back.

“Abby says I shouldn’t smoke again.”

There is no point in explaining things to the pretty idiot, so Andrew settles for looking at him until he opens the damn box and takes out a couple of pieces of cloth.

“You want me to sew your socks?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Andrew replies while pulling up his sleeves. Maybe Neil can get the hint that way.

“Armbands?”

“It’s already hot as fucking hell and you keep wearing long sleeves.”

Realization crosses fast through his face. If the junkie thought Andrew wouldn’t notice he didn’t want the scars on his wrists on display, he was even dumber than how he looked.

“Thank you,” The red-haired says while slipping the pieces of cloth through his hands.

Words are burning Andrew’s throat worse than the smoke of his sixth cigarette. He doesn’t want a no , but he knows he won’t be in peace if he doesn’t ask. “Will you stay now?”

“I haven’t gone anywhere.”

The blond only spares a glance at Neil. He doesn’t want to explain. However, as silence stretches, he knows he needs to make sure the point is understood just in case Neil is indeed stupid or Andrew hasn’t been clear enough.

“Last year I told you to give me your back and stay. You ran away and did the exact opposite. You’re not in danger anymore. The promise stands. I’m just asking again.”

A wild river clashes with sweet honey. For the first time in a long, long while, Andrew can’t tell what hiding those eyes are hiding. He is the one with the blank expression, not Neil. Silence keeps growing between them. The blond is sure he talked too soon. He is expecting the dream to vanish because it has been a big strike of consecutive good weeks and nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t forget that.

“Your memory isn’t so perfect after all.” Andrew is startled by the comment. Of course, it is. A fucking burden he never asked to have. A good thing when it comes to Neil and the bright smiles he gives. The twin starts digging if he had any other slips like the room swap without asking first, but he can’t find any. “I said yes. Always yes.”

“It was a different question.” Relief spreads as he speaks.

“But the answer is always yes.” The blank stare is quickly replaced by a big smile.

Andrew knows he has to tell him that always can’t be his answer for everything, that there will be times when it’s no, that he will respect any change of mind, that he doesn’t want to force it, that he is afraid everything is still an illusion, but Neil is so close and he has talked so much, that the only thing he manages is a soft growl as the striker´s lips are near his neck, and then, every objection gets drowned in a kiss.

“One condition,” Neil says when they part. “You don’t protect me. We protect each other.”

Every complaint dies even before Andrew can voice it because it is true.

Before Neil said it, he gave his life willingly for Andrew, and the blond had turned the world upside down in a week to keep the pipe dream safe. The promise was fulfilled before it was made.

Regardless, it’s the first time someone says to him anything like that, and it fills his chest with something so powerful and strange that he isn’t sure if his life is really this good. Perhaps he died in juvie, or in Thanksgiving, or in Easthaven, and this is all a weird fantasy created to bear the boredom of being in hell.

When they return to the dorms, neither asks before getting inside the same bed to fall asleep with their fingers intertwined.

If always feels like this, Andrew can get used to having it.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #aftg fic #all for the game #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #canon divergent au #canon divergence #andrew minyard #neil josten #andrew x neil #neil josten & the foxes #david wymack #always yes #fluf #birthday #party

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qtakesams · 3 years

Text

When Life Goes On, Go with It

Two years ago this month, I moved to Edgewater, Maryland, to complete a summer internship with the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center. SERC, as we call it, is a branch of the Smithsonian Institution that specializes in climate, coastal, terrestrial, and various other types of sciences. Their campus is an hour east of Washington, D.C. They own hundreds of acres of land, on which they house their laboratories and fields.

It was just after my sophomore year of college ended. As with many underclassmen years, mine was turbulent. I endured a drastic shift in my social circle which had, even if temporarily, left me feeling stranded on a campus I was still learning about. I’d had a rough spring semester, finding a lack of motivation to complete any assignment.

Most undergrads face that year: the one where nothing feels right, and each path feels like a dead-end. I had applied for a SERC internship on a bit of a whim. Entering college, I’d seen myself as a fiction writer and editor, planning to end up in a corporate publishing house. Sophomore had shown me I desired other things, and I applied for SERC’s science writing internship completely unsure if I’d actually like the work. What if I didn’t? What if it felt worse than the previous semester? What would I do if I couldn’t bounce back?

All of this, I decided, would be worth the risk. When I got an email from the internship’s advisor in March, offering me the position, I accepted it. The rest, as some might say, is history.

SERC is a hard place to find until you’ve visited a few times. The brown sign is easily skipped by the eyes. Coming from the west, you approach SERC on the left side of the road. Immediately, you forget that you’re technically in the suburbs, less than thirty miles from the epicenter of political heat in America. After a few turns, you arrive at the gate. When SERC is publicly open, you drive on through. When you’re an intern coming back from the bar at night, you have to swipe your ID card. You drive a few more turns, watching closely for deer, before that final right turn that drops you into the parking lot of the intern dorms and the labs.

I fell in love with SERC within days of my arrival. There were the intimidating factors of the place: fellow interns at Ivy Leagues and respected colleges, scientific labs into which the government itself funded millions, no meal plan, and the stick shift vehicle I would drive all summer. I was terrified when my mom drove away. I explored the floor of my building, admiring the kitchen, perusing the book selection. By eleven, I was in bed. I was tried from traveling, but more so, I didn’t know what to do. I’d briefly interacted with the other intern already on my floor, but I didn’t know him well enough to go say hi. There were four interns moved in below my floor, but I hadn’t seen any of them yet. I suddenly seemed wildly out of my element, though I had felt comfortable at SERC the moment I drove through the gate.

Of course, I grew happier at SERC. The happiest I’d been in years. Within weeks, I made strong friends, adjusted to my job, and began to close my GPS when driving to the store.

My work felt good. The articles I wrote and the media I created reached thousands of people, many of which gave positive comments. My words were reaching people, and the people were responding.

I was raised by a scientist, but more importantly, by well-educated, empathetic people. Loving my planet was part of the gig when I was growing up. In high school, I began to see where my privilege in this education existed. My friends at school didn’t seem to care about the things I’d be taught to care about. Water consumption, electricity, knowing the landscape on which your house is built. I knew important moments in history, and how they affected me. I had early knowledge of politics, to the point where I knew who George Bush was before his presidency ended (when I was 10). Ignorance and empathy tend to go hand-in-hand, mostly because ignorance leads to apathy. We’ve seen this cause-and-effect equation hold catastrophic, deadly consequences in 2020.

When I arrived at SERC, it didn’t slip by me that I suddenly had access to information that most people only dream about. Many of us are ignorant (I remain ignorant to 99.9% of what happens on this Earth) by circumstance, not by choice. Accessibility is one of our biggest problems of a global society attempting to function in a digital, climate change-riddled world. Sixty percent of the globe now has Internet access, but that leaves 3.08 billion people without the knowledge they need to protect themselves from the setbacks of climate change. Most of those people, as it would turn out, are terribly affected most by war, poverty, hunger, climate, social injustice, etc. These things intertwine and cause one another. Not always, but often.

My position at SERC gifted me access to science occurring in real-time. When the Pandemic would hit a year later, it would be surprising but not shocking. On a planet where politics and science are brothers, and the population is soaring too high to properly maintain, containing a spreadable virus is like trying to hold a cup of water in your bare hands. Sooner or later, it’s going to slip between the cracks and go everywhere. If it slips far enough, you’ll never find a towel strong enough to collect it all.

In March of 2020, when I moved home to isolate, I knew the rest of college was trashed. Not my degree, necessarily, but the experience of college. I would lose that experience in its normalcy, and therefore the skills which develop from that normalcy.

I did soon realize, however, that we are not always fortunate enough to do something about mass-casualties or problems. There’s not always an answer, straightforward or not. When there is one, you should grab it with both hands.

That summer of 2020, I decided I wanted to pursue a master’s degree after college. Higher education is not unknown in my family; we boast high degrees from prestigious universities. I am the opposite of a First-Generation student (one of my great-grandparents also had a master’s degree). Graduate school had already been on my mind when I started college, but I didn’t know what for. An MFA in fiction had felt the most logical to my teenage self in 2017, but by 2018, that felt out the window. What I had realized by the summer of 2020 was that, in the midst of the chaos and absurdity, was that I could in fact do something about what was going on. I can’t solve climate change, or house the homeless, or save every polar bear, or even eradicate a virus, but I can help in my own way. On some level, I can do something about the many crises. This, in itself, is “doing something”.

Science writing is a polarizing subject, of this I have been aware my entire life. Unfortunately, we’ve made science political, though politics are generally opinion (with strong empathy) and science is fact. It’s a tough, competitive field, but so is everything else. If you want to “make it” in this world, you have to willingly shed blood, tears, and probably sweat profusely. As I watched the COVID cases skyrocket simultaneously to the people I knew who cared not to stay home, I could tell something was off. People weren’t listening. If they were, it was usually to the ignorant voices on television.

I could feel my cheeks burning as I watched the Johns Hopkins map. It seemed cruel that we, as a society, could do that to ourselves. That we could allow this virus to spread and kill, but also that we had put ourselves in this position. I had already been envisioning myself as a science writer every day since my time at SERC had begun. Finally reckoning with the knowledge that not everybody is a scientist, nor cares to be one, was the icing on the cake. I couldn’t fix it all, but I could offer my help. So, I would.

When I began this blog two years ago, it was solely for abroad purposes. It was a fabulous way to let anybody who cared know what I was experiencing and how I was handling those experiences. Studying abroad, no matter how or where or how long, is difficult. Studying in general, for any length of time on any subject, is mindboggling tedious. I give kudos to my friends and family who have any advanced, foreign, or nontraditional education.

What I discovered after I began writing blog posts and sharing my thoughts is that there’s always more to the story than the words on the page. That’s why I’ve added to this blog in the year and a half since my abroad semester ended; there is always more to tell.

In a few weeks, I begin my master’s degree at Northwestern University in Chicago. My degree is in journalism, with a specialization in Science and Health reporting. I’m nervous to my core, as I am with any new adventure. I just graduated college last weekend, so my emotions are running wild. Yet, I have a feeling I’m about to finally be where I’ve wanted to be for years. I love words. I love messing with them, shaping them, using them to fit whatever project I want. I also love science. I love knowing what is happening around me, and why and how it is. Combining them already feels like a dream come true, so I’m sure the next year will feel magical.

The classes of 2020 and 2021 are probably the most resilient in history. A Pandemic, racial and social injustice, wildfires, remote learning, wifi issues. We’ve seen it all, and it’s made us stronger every day.

I think I’ve worn this blog out for this phase of life. My thoughts on what I’ve talked about here are valid and important, but they don’t exist alone. For somebody who’s pretty much been writing since she could hold a pencil, I hate journaling. I’ve tried so many times, and never succeeded, with the exception of this blog. That said, it gave me an incredibly strong, consistent manner of getting my thoughts on the page, for which I am endlessly grateful. If you’ve kept reading my thoughts and words, you should know I’m endlessly grateful for you, too.

All of this is saying that, whether you’re ready or not, life keeps going. Life can be cruel, it can be challenging, it can be beautiful. No matter what, it keeps going. As my friend Ferris once said, if you don’t stop and look around from time to time, you could miss it. So much changed so drastically in the last year. I’m still processing it. I might always be processing it. Most importantly, I think, is that I’ve learned to flow with it wherever it goes. It’s harder sometimes than other, but the result is usually worth the grind.

You might read my stuff in the Times once day, or (my personal favorite dream) National Geographic. I don’t know honestly know where I’m going, but I’m okay with that because I do know that I’m on my way. I’m still going. When life continues, you should go, too. You never quite know where the climb will lead, but you do know that the view will be great.

#study abroad #science writing #thoughts #media #graduate school #graduate student #class of 2021

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