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stargazer-sims · 7 months

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Journal Entry #59

Journal Entry #58 // STORY INDEX

Victor

We’ve been having an amazing summer.

Yeah, I know we’ve been neglecting our journal again, but in a way I feel like maybe we’re outgrowing it. We’ve been chronicling our life this way for over a year, and so much has changed for us in that time. So much has changed about us as well. We’re not the same people we were a year ago, and that’s a good thing.

I started this journal for fun because I wanted to do some travelling that wasn’t connected to a snowboarding competition, and I thought it'd be cool to document my adventures. I did get to go to Sulani, but in hindsight, now I see how unrealistic it was to think I’d be jetting frivolously all around the globe.

But, starting the journal wasn’t a wasted effort by any means. Looking back on it, it’s a reminder of how far Yuri and I have come, what we’ve learned and how we’ve grown as individuals and as a couple. I love us, and I'm proud of the progress we’ve made together.

It’s been interesting to share a part of our story with everyone, but I feel like we’re moving into a different stage of our life now. I don't know if we'll keep recording our journey like this in the future. We'll see.

Anyway, we're still doing it for now, so let me pick up where I left off back in June.

After Mom and Julian's wedding, Yuri and I had a few days together before he and his family returned to Japan. I had a great time showing them around, and I think Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto fell in love with Willow Creek a little bit, because they said they wanted to come back for a longer visit in the near future. Yuki's favourite thing was actually the amusement park in nearby Newcrest, and her parents really seemed to enjoy the scenic walking trails and the farmers market.

Before they left, Mr. Okamoto asked me if I'd like to stay with them when I returned to Mt. Komorebi instead of moving back into Uncle Kaz's house for what might end up being only a couple of months. My knee-jerk reaction was to say no, but I'm glad I managed to keep that to myself. The offer did make a lot of sense, after all. If Yuri and I both stayed with his parents, we wouldn't have to pay rent on top of our mortgage payment for the haunted house, and we could pack up the rest of our stuff so we'd be ready to leave whenever we reasonably could. I just didn't know how I'd feel, being in such close proximity to my in-laws for an extended period of time.

I told Mr. Okamoto I'd think about it and get back to him, and he seemed satisfied with that.

Grandpa Michael also hung around in Willow Creek for a while after the wedding. I said he could stay with me, but he declined, claiming the house would be too crowded with all Yuri's family members staying there too. I found that a little odd at first, until I discovered that he somehow managed to hook up with someone at the wedding and got invited to stay in her guest room for a few nights.

"She's a younger woman, and she’s hot," he told me confidentially. "Her name's Juliet. How about that?"

"Uh... how much younger are we talking?" I asked.

"She's sixty-six."

"Don't you think you're moving kinda fast? Like, sleeping over at her place after you literally just met her?"

"Listen," Grandpa Michael said. "At my age, you gotta move fast so you don't miss the good opportunities."

He's seventy-three. If he was in a contest for old people who move fast, he'd probably win a medal.

Still, he deserves to find happiness and have fun. It’s been seven years since my grandma passed away, and I’m pretty sure he’ll never stop loving her, but seven years is a long time to be alone if you’re used to being with somebody. If he feels like he's ready to get back into the dating scene, who am I to tell him not to?

When I met the aforementioned Juliet a couple days later, I totally understood the attraction. Although ‘hot’ wasn’t exactly the first word that sprang to mind, I could definitely see why Grandpa Michael would think so. She was elegant and confidently attractive in the way women are when they embrace aging with grace instead of engaging in a useless battle with it. I could easily imagine her being a knockout in her younger days. When she was my age, I bet she turned every head in every room she stepped into.

Beyond my initial impression of Juliet Picard, I was startled to realize I recognized her. She was the woman who'd been in charge of all the flowers for the wedding. Turns out she owns a florist shop called Hearts and Flowers, which happens to be down the street from Mom and Julian's clinic. Coincidentally, the flower shop also occupies the same building as the flat where Davian St-Jean, a friend of mine from high school, lives.

I used to say Willow Creek was the most boring place on Earth, that nothing ever happens there, but that's when I was viewing it through the eyes of a guy who thought events didn't have much meaning unless they were big and exciting and important to everyone. I was wrong about that. Sometimes the most seemingly insignificant thing carries the most weight.

A lot happens in Willow Creek. It's a town of connections, of opportunities small and large, the sort of place where a chance interaction could change the course of somebody's life in ways they might never have been able to imagine.

I mean, I was in Willow Creek when I met Yuri. Sitting alone in my sparsely -furnished unit at the Sage Estates apartment complex, scrolling through a forum for snowboarding enthusiasts, I had no idea I was going to see a photo of this impossibly cute Japanese boy doing a silly pose with his board. My impulsivity made me message him, and his curiosity made him message back. Prior to that day, if anyone had suggested I would meet my soulmate through a random encounter on the internet, I think I would've laughed out loud.

But now? Don't tell me stuff doesn't happen in Willow Creek. Dreams are born there, and nobody will ever convince me to change my mind about that again.

The day after Yuri and his family headed home, Grandpa Michael and I departed for Brindleton Bay. He returned his rented car, and then Juliet met us for breakfast and dropped us off at the bus station afterwards.

"I'll be back," he told her as we were about to board the bus, and I swear it was totally dramatic, like something out of a movie. He was dead serious, though, so I had to do my best not to laugh.

"I'll be looking forward to it," she said.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the keys to the house. "Here," I said, handing them to my grandpa. "Consider my place your place until Yuri and I come back. Feel free to use it any time."

He grinned at me, and for a split second I could've sworn I saw the face of a man half his age. "Thanks. I'm sure I'll enjoy that heated swimming pool, and your fabulous kitchen. I'll make myself at home."

"Go for it," I said. "Just don't use the red mug, and don't sleep in the basement bedroom."

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "What an odd thing to say."

"It's only odd if you don't know about the ghost," I told her.

"The ghost?"

"Victor's house is haunted," Grandpa Michael said cheerfully. "Cool, don't you think?"

"Really?" Juilet looked intrigued. "Well, I can't wait to see that."

"Victor, I presume I'm allowed to have houseguests?"

"Go for it," I said. "Far be it from me to cramp your style."

He winked at Juliet. "Heated swimming pool."

"Oh, lord..." she responded, but she was laughing. "I think I'll have to keep him, Victor. I wouldn't want to unleash him on anyone else."

"Consider me kept." Grandpa Michael put the keys into his own bag, and then gave me a thumbs up. "Just let me know when you're coming back. I'll make sure I'm there, so you can get in."

"Don't worry," I said. "Mom has the other set of keys. We'll be able to get in. I'll let her know you'll be coming and going, though. We don't want her to think somebody's trying to break into the place."

"Imagine explaining that to the police," he said, and the look on his face implied he'd very much enjoy stirring up a little trouble like that.

Mom says I'm just like Grandpa Michael. She's probably not wrong. Aside from sharing an almost obsessive passion for snow sports and being international competitors — he was a world champion slalom skiier back in the day — we have the same love for food, the same enjoyment of being with other people, the same sense of humour and, I think it's safe to say, the same impulse control issues.

I love him. I mean, I love my other grandparents too, but I think I have a deeper bond with Grandpa Michael than with the others. We get each other on a fundamental level.

We had a blast during the week I spent in Brindleton Bay with him. We passed a lot of our time at the local fitness center, and every morning we had tea and breakfast with his friends at a café in town. His friends are awesome, for the record. After the first day, I kind of forgot I was hanging out with guys in their seventies. One afternoon, we all played golf together, and on another day we went deep-sea fishing with one of the friends who owns a boat.

When we weren't socializing, we managed to get loads of yard work done, and we did plenty of cooking. Oh man... the cooking. It was so nice not to have to worry about ingredients and portion sizes and making sure everything had the right balance of protein and carbs. We cooked whatever we felt like having, and trust me, we had a lot of it. I'm pretty sure I've never eaten so much in a week in my entire life. With my belly full, I slept like a dead man every night, and it was absolutely satisfying.

On the evening before my flight back to Japan, Grandpa Michael and I were sitting on his back doorstep, drinking some fruit juice and staring out at the ocean. If I thought sunsets over the lake in Granite Falls were beautiful, let me tell you they've got nothing on sunsets over the ocean. The last time I'd seen anything like that, I'd been in Sulani, but somehow this was better. It wasn't that the sunset itself was any more gorgeous, but because I was seeing it with someone I care about and who I know cares about me.

"It's been a long time since I got to sit here and enjoy this with another person," my grandfather said, as if he were reading my thoughts.

"I'm glad I get to watch it with you."

"Me too," he said. "I hope you'll come back here more often, once you're all settled into your new home. Bring your husband too. He seems like a sweet little fellow."

I laughed at that, thinking about how Yuri would respond to being referred to as 'a sweet little fellow'. He'd probably love it, and I could picture him blushing.

"I will," I promised. "But I guess you'll be coming to Willow Creek more often now too, won’t you? So we'll have extra chances to see each other."

"Hmm..." Grandpa Michael leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "I never thought I'd find someone I wanted to be with after your grandmother. I didn't think I'd ever want to love anyone that way again, honestly, but I might have changed my mind."

"You think love at first sight is a thing?"

"No," he said. "You never want to say 'love' too quickly, but it's okay to think about it, and I've got a good feeling."

I smiled. "I'm really glad you met Juliet."

"So am I. She made me remember that being alive and living life aren't the same thing," he said. "You know, it's easy to give up on living when you feel like you've lost your reason to live. But, I think we forget that we've got more than one reason. There's more to live for than that one person or thing we lost."

I thought about Yuri. He'd been at his lowest point this past winter, and for a while I'd really been afraid that he'd given up on wanting to be alive, not just on living. Nothing I said or did seemed to matter, and it was scaring me more than anything else ever had. But then, just when I was wondering what would become of him, of us and the future we’d planned, his reminder to live came from the most unlikely source; his father.

If somebody asked me to guess who'd save Yuri in the end, I never would’ve predicted it’d be his dad. Their relationship was practically non-existent up until this year.

It’d taken some pretty horrible events to make them take the first tiny steps toward fixing their broken trust, but all the pain and suffering was worth it if Yuri and his dad learned how to communicate with each other. They’ve both found hope and renewed determination to make the most out of their time in the world, and I’m thankful.

Since March, their relationship has grown by leaps and bounds, and it's been truly amazing to observe. Yuri is happier than I've ever known him to be. He's looking forward, rather than being stuck in a bubble of self-pity and going nowhere. Even the smallest things seem to bring him joy now, and I can't even begin to describe how full my heart is over that.

I want this to last. I want him to be happy forever, and I don't even care if I'm not the catalyst. Seeing him happy makes me happy. The reason for it doesn't matter, as long as he's thriving.

Of course, I'm enough of a realist to get that it's not always going to be sunshine and strawberry milkshakes. Yuri's chronic illness will never go away, so it's inevitable that he'll have bad days or weeks. Plus, we're doubtless going to have to deal with difficult stuff that's completely unrelated to Yuri's health.

That having been said, I'm of the opinion that happiness is a state of being. Like, even if we're not constantly cheerful and we're navigating scary or unpleasant situations, we can still be happy. There's always something to be grateful for, always one more reason to keep on living, and that's what I want for Yuri. My wish for him is that he'll finally understand happiness is something he can choose for himself, and even if everything around him is dark and bitter, he can still find his own metaphorical sunshine and strawberry milkshakes on the inside.

When I shared that with Grandpa Michael, he told me he was proud of me and said I should be proud of myself too.

"You've grown up a lot since you've been away," he commented.

"Thanks. I've had a lot of people helping me."

"Other people can only get you so far. You have to want to do it."

"I don't know if I wanted to," I confessed. "Being an adult is hard. Part of me wishes I could just stay a kid forever, Know what I mean?"

"Believe it or not, I do," he said. "But you know what they say. You don't have to stop playing just because you're growing up."

With that in mind, I've made it my mission to get in as much playtime as possible this summer and to bring as many people along with me on my adventures as I can.

I made up my mind to stay with my in-laws when I got back to Mt. Komorebi, and I have no regrets. Yuri and I have been filling our days with all kinds of activities from long walks on the mountain trails, to visiting local museums and galleries, to picnic lunches by the lake near his parents' house. I returned in time for the Festival of Snow, and the whole family went to it together. We were out all day, and it was even more fun than last year.

A few weeks ago, Yuri and I took a weekend trip to Kyoto for shopping, sightseeing, and a classical music concert. Yuri convinced me to go back to the spa we went to on the day before we got married, and afterwards we bought dango from a street vendor and ate it in the little park where we had our wedding pictures taken.

We've been spending time with our friends as well, and it probably goes without saying that Sakura and I are training on the mountain as much as we’re reasonably able to. Last week, Yuri told me that he thought he was finally feeling strong enough to get back on his board, so I called Sakura and asked her if we could skip training for the day so I could take Yuri snowboarding. She sounded only too glad to oblige, and said she might come out to join us, if Yuri didn't mind. He said he didn't, so Sakura met us at the intermediate slope, and the three of us had one of the most wonderful mornings I've had in a long time.

Yuri was exhausted by the time we were done, but even more importantly, he was hungry. He practically begged me to take him to a local ramen house for his favourite meal of the moment, kake udon. That's a kind of mild noodle soup that can be served with different toppings like tofu, sliced fish or shrimp tempura. Yuri likes it with scallions and fish. He somehow talked me into buying him strawberry daifuku as well, and then he didn't even share them with me. Like... the nerve! When it became clear I wasn't going to get even a bite of one of his, I had to order my own. I pretended to protest, but I was secretly thrilled, if you really want to know.

Yuri's been doing so good with his eating that Dr. Kasongo thinks she might be able to remove his feeding tube by the end of the year. He officially finished the first phase of his nutrition rehabilitation therapy in mid-July, so that means no more food intelligence classes and no more weekly visits with the nutritionist and psychologist.

He's happy about not having to meet with the psychologist every single week, but he's nervous about not seeing the nutritionist as regularly. She's been like a safety net for him, I think. He had to be accountable to her, and now he's worried that he's not going to be able to do it without her encouraging, reminding, and occasionally scolding him about his food intake and eating choices. He's supposed to continue with his daily food diary, and at this point he's supposed to start planning his own weekly menu or at least contributing to the planning of a family menu. He has a short consultation with the nutritionist every two weeks, usually ten or fifteen minutes by video call, so he can go over his food diary and meal plans with her. It's nothing like his previous hour-long weekly in-person sessions, and he's stressed.

Everyone in the family is cheering him on, though. We all know he can do it.

His current goal is to go sixty consecutive days without a single tube feeding. That, and his general overall health, are the criteria for having the tube removed. He looked like he was about to panic when the doctor told him that, and on the way home from his appointment he cried while telling me he didn't think he was ready to go sixty days in a row.

"It's okay," I said. "If you're not ready yet, that's not a bad thing. Just do the best you can."

"But, I'll be delaying our move even more if I can't do this," he said.

"No, you won't. We've got the date for your first appointment with Dr. Kim now, don't forget. We can move any time between now and then, and if you still have your tube when we move, I'm sure Dr. Kim can take it out just as easily as Dr. Kasongo could."

As a matter of fact, he'd received the email from Dr. Kim, the gastroenterologist at Willow Creek Regional Hospital, just the day before we last saw Dr. Kasongo. Yuri's initial appointment with Dr. Kim is scheduled for the twenty-second of October. While I wanted to leave Japan before autumn, I had to acknowledge there really was no rush, and if we didn't get to Willow Creek until mid-October, that would still be fine.

When we got back to Yuri's parents' house, we told them all about how it'd gone with Dr. Kasongo. Mr. and Mrs. Okamoto agreed that it was okay if Yuri didn't think he was ready to commit to the sixty-day home stretch yet, but they also said they were confident in his ability.

Yuki, who had overheard part of the conversation, later offered the helpful suggestion of making a sticker chart. "So every day you go without formula, you get to put a sticker on it, and at the end, you get a big reward!"

I thought she meant the 'big reward' was having his tube taken out, but Yuki had something else in mind. She conspired with her mother to create the most fantastic sticker chart I've ever seen. They drew it on poster board, and blocked it with six rows of ten squares each. Every tenth square had 'reward' written on it, and the sixtieth square boldly proclaimed 'BIG REWARD!!!' in alternating yellow and pink letters, Yuri's favourite colours. They bought an assortment of stickers for him to use on it, including ones with pink ice cream, seashells, glittery rainbow stars, cute baby animals, and — to his obvious delight — sparkly musical instruments, including violins.

"Look at this, Yuri. We have a plan," his mother said, as she went about hanging the chart on the wall in the kitchen. "Whenever you're ready to start counting your sixty days, let me know, and I'll give you the stickers."

To my surprise, it was less than a week later when he told her he was ready to begin.

Today is the ninth of August. We're on day eight of the first ten days today, and the full sixty days will bring us up to the first of October. We’ll be sure to keep you informed about how it’s going, but so far, so good.

We're tentatively planning our move for the middle of September, and I'm cautiously optimistic. Everyone who's watching this, please wish us luck.

There are people who say luck isn't really a thing, and that we can only get ahead by persistence and hard work, but I think it's a combination of the two. Like, I think it's true that our own efforts and our determination to succeed is the real driving force, but who would ever say no to a serendipitous stroke of luck? Even the hardest worker needs a helping hand now and then, and I'm not too proud to accept a well-meant wish for good fortune and success.

#writing #victorsworldadventures #victor nelson #yuri okamoto #stargazersims

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joinsideke · 10 months

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I’m a former radical feminist.

Over the past year, I’ve done a lot to change how I view men because I realized that the way I viewed them was unhealthy and was also ruining me too.

However, I’m still stuck on something.

I still can’t stand the sexual jokes from osa men as soon as a woman is on screen. It’ll be a normal video, or a video where the woman is in a bikini, at the pool and being taught to dive and these, unoriginal guys will always have bullshit to say. “We must stay focused, brothers” and their comments will get to the double-digits thousand in likes. I try to understand, tell myself they’re joking but I can’t help but feel annoyed, seriously. How hard is it to appreciate the video without ogling or trying to spot a titty slip or something?

In these scenarios, I don’t see men calling out other men, I see other women doing calling them out. I really don’t want to revert back to past thoughts and behaviour but it’s challenging not to when I see stuff like this.

Honestly, I’m a straight woman but things like this make me wish that I had another avenue. I just get a knee-jerk reaction of disgust and I feel like, I don’t know, slapping these men. Of course, I would never slap anyone, it’s just what I think of doing.

What do I do to move pass this?

Hey! It's cool that you're sharing and you were able to change your mindset. Radfems never seen like happy people and that's a shitty way to live. So good on you.

As for your problem here, it's okay to be annoyed. Men are generally more openly horny than women. That's not to say women never are--just look at any fandom spaces and you'll find them thirsting over fictional and real men alike. And honestly, there's nothing wrong with being horny, as long as you're being appropriate about it.

But therein lies the problem. This is the Internet, so the consequences of being slapped in the face for saying something gross to someone is non-existent. A lot of people lose their filters when they're online. Think of all the people who tell others to kill themselves--most likely, they would never say that to someone's face. When it's just a screen, you kinda get a disconnect.

Another thing the Internet does is skew your perception. You see all these comments and might think, "ugh, men are pigs!" And some are, sure, but you gotta remember that you're seeing just a fraction of them. The Internet connects people all over the world and like-minded individuals will then concentrate together, making it seem like there's a lot of them when in reality, that's probably not the case. (Also gotta keep in mind that someone's gender online might not be immediately obvious. There's likely guys leaving normal comments, and maybe even calling out the horn dogs, that you might not notice unless they specifically mention it.)

All that said, again, it's okay to be annoyed by immature behavior. But your best bet is just to roll your eyes and ignore it. Just remember that not all guys are like that, and a lot them will grow out of it (a lot of them are probably still young and the ones who aren't are the type of guys who will probably never touch a boob in their life.) I mean, generally speaking, the comment section of a video is a cesspool anyway. I used to get into arguments on YouTube when I was younger and it was like throwing a chunk of my life into a black hole. You're not going to get anything back out of it.

I dunno if this has been super helpful, but that's just my two cents, I guess. Just gotta keep that perspective.

#Anon #Ask #feminism #Sexism #Some guys do need to learn to keep it in their pants #But that's not your problem

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its-a-gemfact · 3 years

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I’ve developed this knee-jerk reaction whenever someone tries to argue with me about Steven universe because they always bring up the same tired bad-faith criticism points, name it:

“The diamonds were bad, Su future bad, their representation doesn’t count because gems are aliens”

Those are the most common bad takes, there’s also the very unproductive oversimplified discourse surrounding the characters a certain part of the fandom tend to oversimplify the character motives and development so much.

Steven, the gems, pink, Greg, the diamonds, the fandom always attempt to find who was the one in the “wrong” they don’t seem to grasp that neither of them were completely bad nor good and it was just a very complicated situation and one just couldn’t blame a single character for all the bad things that happened on the show because the situation was/is complicated.

hmm. I mean, there is a lot of justified su criticism but. People are obsessed with trying to judge the morality of the show.

The truth is, there's nothing wrong with redeeming characters like the diamonds. We are products of our environment, no one is inherently bad, even if they've done bad things. And no one is ever too far gone. People just need a healthy support system, etc etc. That's restorative justice babey. Anyone claiming to be progressive should know that. And to be clear, Su+suf says sacrificing your own health and happiness for others is bad actually. Helping 'bad' people change is not your responsibility and is actually traumatic to do alone. So that eliminates any 'i can fix them' ideas that lesser redemption narratives could propagate.

TLDR part 1 su is morally and thematically unproblematic.

I think the most su criticism is actually caused by the pacing. People just don't realise, that's what they have a problem with. White diamond changes her mind in one episode. And the redemption arch, (e.i. her personal growth) happens off screen. ofc it was because the show was cancelled but still. SUF did an amazing job at showing how trauma affected steven. Too good a job in fact, because the final 30 minutes was not enough to convince me that everything would be ok. Once again, steven’s healing process happened off screen. I gotta admit, as much as I love it, rewatching SUF kinda bums me out.

TLDR part 2 people have valid problems with su, but they're misidentifying what they are. People crit the show's morals because it's satisfying to do. When what actually brings the show down is the pacing, something a lot more mundane. People can't see the forest through the trees so to speak.

#su #steven universe #what other show could make me write paragraphs n paragraphs #over a year after it ended #a show doesn't need to be perfect to have such an impact

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lady-raziel · 3 years

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you don't gotta answer this, but i just wanted to say thank you for stating your views on rpf. it means a lot seeing a larger person in the community give their stance on this kinda stuff

i think for a long time i’ve just kind of...not been mentioning how i feel about it because i didn’t want to offend people and i felt guilty because when i was younger i did ship a bit of rpf stuff, and saying that i’ve come to realize how harmful and not cool it is made me feel really hypocritical.

but i finally decided that it’s much more important to state what i feel and maybe help some other people, especially teenagers like i was, understand that it’s not acceptable and that celebrities/influencers/whatever are real humans just like everyone else and don’t just exist as abstract concepts for our entertainment.

i think a lot of people just aren’t aware of the real effects it can have and when someone says not to ship real people there’s some out there whose knee-jerk reaction is just to say, “well fuck you, you can’t tell me what to do, i’m going to do whatever i want and whatever makes me happy,” and it’s like trying to figure out how to explain to people that sure, you should do what makes you happy, but not if what you’re doing hurts someone else.

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tarithenurse · 3 years

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Impervious

Fandom: MCU / TFATWS Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Content: Mentions of hate/harrasment, bad weather, sadness, awkwardness, fluff. A/N: This is my contribution to @princessmisery666 ‘s Daily Mix Challenge! She tossed me a song I’ve never heard before (Skin – by Sabrina Carpenter) and listening to the lyrics I had the image of a highschool prom dance scene where the main character is dancing with the partner while the jealous ass holes are staring daggers....but instead I ended up writing this – oops? Hope you enjoy! And thank you for a lovely challenge!

Impervious

I should delete my Twitter too. The day has only just begun but haters never seem to sleep, filling your online existence with a shit-ton of “negativity”.

It wasn’t as if you had planned it. It just happened!

Thinking back, you can’t help smiling at the memory of that morning a couple of years ago.

Way too early in November, cold and wet and absolutely not a day where you really wanted to be out in the horrendous morning rush and trying to weave in and out between people, with a cooling coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and an umbrella sandwiched dangerously by your shoulder and chin. Nope, the day was shitty and had just plummeted further as you hung up: you’d just had a contract cancelled. At least you wouldn’t be late.

Ready to give up your attempt at adulting (without the prospect of a new gig), you didn��t pay attention to your surroundings for a moment. Just a few seconds. But of course, that’s all it would take to ram straight into someone, crushing the paper cup between the two of you and jostling him to spill his own coffee.

On any other day, you’d probably have handled it more graciously. This day...not so much.

Scrambling for your phone (ugh, it had landed in the biggest puddle available and cracked), you rattled off frantic excuses while trying to hold back the tears. Then your umbrella got snagged by the wind and someone bumped into you, forcing you onto hands and knees and it was all...just...too much.

“Hey baby girl, don’t worry. Don’t cry,” his voice was warm and soothing just like his hands as they gripped yours, brushing off dirt gently with his sleeve, “don’t cry, ’s gonna be fine. See? No harm, no foul.”

There were scars on his hands – especially his knuckles had seen a lot of use, disrupting the gentleness of the dark skin with odd patterns – but they were steady and welcoming then as they cupped your elbows.

Still trying to push out excuses (at this point as much for your own reaction as the accident itself) between hiccups, you were not prepared for him.

His coat was practical and glistening from the rain that gathers on the treated material rather than soak into it...as opposed to your own old jacket that could double as a sponge.

“Just breathe,” he smiled from under the hood, “and stop apologizin’, ‘aight?” Well, you did shut up, too stunned by the crooked smile and the sunshine peeping out at you from his eyes. “That’s better. Lemme just grab this -” he bend for the remains of your phone -”and then...maybe I can offer ya somethin’ warm to drink?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I do that?” Your voice began to rise once more despite your best intentions. “I wasn’t watchi-”

“Nope.” You liked the way the P popped. “Gotta make sure ya fine...that’s kinda my thing, y’know.”

“O-okay...”

He had done just that: brought you to a warm café and hooked you up with their biggest mocha with chocolate powder on top (he even secured you a seat close to the heater) while still chatting about random things to calm you down.

But then his phone had rang and he’d have to leave.

You never got around to ask about his name...but later, when your brain decided to finally cooperate, you realized you didn’t have to: you had just been helped by Sam Wilson, former Falcon and the new Captain America.

That could have been the end of that.

It left you with dreams you neither wanted to share with anyone nor forget. Something inside you had woken up, wanting company but finding nothing but solitude – not that you technically were alone, of course.

You found yourself reading about Wilson’s heroic deeds both before and after the Avengers...and you kept noticing the little details that people seemed to ignore on the gossip pages or in the headlines. You fell for the man without the wings and shield.

A month later (and thankfully a few seasonal jobs too), you walked from the subway towards your little apartment after a long shoot. It was late and you were too tired to notice much about your surroundings until the winter boots of someone appeared in your lowered field of vision, making you jerk back to attention.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” Sam Wilson smiled disarmingly.

You were several blocks from home still. The streetlight flickered, stretching the shadows from a nearby dumpster, and towering above you were windows which all tried to block out the world for the sake of the residents living there.

“What are you doing here?” You bit your tongue in regret immediately. “I-I mean uhm...you didn’t...didn’t scare me...”

If he had been offended, Sam didn’t show it. Instead he just smiled that crooked smile, flashing what you were absolutely certain must be the prettiest tooth gap. “Let me walk ya home for starters?”

“...sure.”

It wasn’t winter anymore inside you when he was there. It was as good as you were ever going to get, knowing your dreams were unrealistic, so of course you decided to enjoy it for a little while. You walked side by side with him, basking in his warm presence until you were chatting as if he was an old friend.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here, Sam.”

The two of you had come to a stop outside your complex. Fidgeting with your keys in the pocket, you wished that you could keep walking with him.

“Well...I was just gonna check in on you but now...this gonna sound crazy,” he pauses to scratch under the scarf, “...I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me finish that coffee with ya some day?”

He was still smiling although a bit more timidly and more towards the winter boots.

“I’d like that.” Inside you, a million sparklers were lit. “Tomorrow?”

“Hey baby girl, what ya smiling like a goof for?”

Sam’s voice calls you back to the real world – a real world where he’s coming over to you on the couch with a big mug of fresh coffee.

“You.” Closing the laptop, you push it away in favour of your boyfriend. “I was remembering how we bumped into each other.”

The memory makes him smile the way you love. “Best day in my life.”

“Same for me.” You kiss him. “I wouldn’t give us up for anything or anyone.” Not even jealous haters.

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seaswalllow · 3 years

Text

admittedly, the knee-jerk reaction yesterday was a Lot of pretty amazed annoyance with two particular members of the Syndicate, but I gotta say that from a character standpoint there was some fascinating stuff to work with

I'm mostly talking about some of c!Philza's lines and actions, to be honest! because mans is aware enough of his whole angel of death status thing, but.. that line? "Why does everything around me die?"

Couple that with the fact that we know he's something close to immortal, and... how many people has this man lost, either as a direct consequence of his actions or naturally?

Which leads me to: one, it is fascinating in how it reflects on his reticence to get attached to people, much like Techno, and... how it kinda winds up happening anyway with the line "people just kinda start calling me Dadza". does the man just exude conflicting signals of Death and Father?

also I'm refusing to even tear up at a. the way he put up Wilbur's pic in the Syndicate and b. "If I talked to him I think he'd forgive me" because that is straight up a one way ticket to More Tears

in conclusion: c!phil needs to work on some aspects of his self awareness but like mans got so much character lore to him that it's fascinating

#philza #dream smp #also please hold shitpost in the #works abt the pic in the syndicate

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a-closet-emo · 4 years

Text

Phic Phight 2k20

Team Ghost

Title: Heralds of Harassment

Prompt: Danny ISNT the ghost king.

Prompt By: @imperfection-at-itsfinest

Word Count: 2049

Genre: Comedy/Gen

Summary: The Ghost Zone sends Heralds to Danny, telling him he is their rightful King.

A/N: Wow, so this is my first time joining the phight! I’m really excited!! So this one got a bit wobbly towards the end, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Danny sat up in bed and stretched, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as his phone continued to blare his wake up call on the nightstand next to his bed.

He can’t remember the last time he’s had a fairly decent sleep like that. He sighed contentedly, lazily opening his eyes...only to meet the glowing eyes of the ghost at the foot of his bed. The halfa froze, not entirely sure what to do. The ghost seemed to be wearing some sort of medieval get-up, holding a scroll in one hand and a trumpet in the other. The specter stared at Danny with unblinking eyes. Then suddenly the ghost came to life, addressing Danny with a genuine smile and an accented voice, “A good morrow to you, young sir!”

“Uh… yeah. Good...morrow to you, too, dude.”

“It is. Oh yes, it is indeed a fine morning, mighty one”, he said, still smiling and staring at Danny. The boy waited for the ghost to continue, but he seemed to be content just hovering there, watching him.

Slightly unnerved, he carefully moved to get out of bed, not wanting to start a fight this early in the morning. Then the ghost spoke again, a bit louder this time, but still smiling.

“I am a Herald, sent all the way from the Council of Observants to deliver a declaration to your Ghostliness.”

“....ok. Go ahead.”

The ghost seemed pleased to be given such permission, unrolled his scroll and took a deep breath. To say it was long would be an understatement, seeing as the unrolled paper now stretched down to the floor.

“By decree of the Everlasting Council of Observants and in accordance with Ancient Laws, Daniel Fenton, the halfa known also as Phantom, as vanquisher of despot Pariah Dark and savior to both Ghosts and Humans alike, shall be brought before Ghost Zone’s spectral inhabitants and crowned the new Ghost King. Once crowned, the King of Ghosts shall be charged with defending his kingdom and his people. He must settle disputes and preside over ceremonies. He must also attend many meetings with the Observants, establishing new laws....”

Danny tuned out the specter’s speech as it hit him.

Me? The King of Ghosts?.... No way.

He opened his mouth, a response on his lips, when he checked himself. No. No, of course not. He couldn’t deal with this right now.

So, he ignored the still-talking ghost and got ready for the day.

As he opened the door to leave his room, he realized his companion was going to follow him downstairs, still reciting the speech.

“....provided that he is of sound core and form. He may never go against the Everlasting Council, doing so will result in immediate—“

As Danny capped the thermos that now held one Ghost Herald, he said, “Sorry dude, but that’s gonna be a big ‘no for now’ from me.” Okay, a bit harsh, but he didn’t see another way to quickly shut up the Herald.

He stuck the thermos at the bottom of his bag, hoping this wouldn’t turn out to be a problem.

——

At breakfast, Danny had been trying to enjoy a bowl of cereal when a familiar chill passed through his body and another ghost in medieval garb phased through the wall behind his parents, unrolling a long scroll. Luckily, Jazz came to Danny’s rescue, screaming at her parents and telling them that she had seen a ghost upstairs. After the pair of ghost hunters barreled up the staircase, Danny turned to the specter with arms crossed.

“Now, what do you want?”

The second Herald faced his audience of two and began his speech, which Danny noted was exactly the same as the spiel he had heard earlier. Jazz on the other hand, had been ready to help her brother in a fight, but now simply sat there listening to the monologue, more than a little confused. Meanwhile, Danny ducked his head into his backpack, fumbling around for his thermos.

“...shall be brought before Ghost Zone’s spectral inhabitants and crowned the new Ghost King. Once crowned, the King of Ghosts shall be charged with defendi—-!”

And with that, Herald number two was silenced.

“I’m not the Ghost King,” he mumbled to the thermos.

A beat passed.

Jazz looked skeptically between Danny and the thermos that now held two Heralds.

“No?” she asked.

“No way…. at least, not yet.”

She hmm’d noncommittally, narrowing her eyes.

“So, Mr. Ghost King,” she said, ignoring Danny’s

protests to the title, “Is this going to be a problem?”

He rolled his eyes at her, shaking his head. “No, ok? Everything will be just fine. This isn’t a problem.”

She raised her eyebrows and went back to her coffee as their parents disappointedly came down the stairs, ghostless.

“Alright,” his sister said, “If you say so.”

——

It was a problem.

Not that Danny acknowledged it as such.

The next morning he opened his locker only to be greeted formally by a ghost holding a scroll and trumped. In a knee-jerk reaction, he slammed the door shut and skidded backwards, earning him a few curious looks. Smiling nervously and rubbing the back of his neck at the crowd milling about him, he stepped in front of his locker and sighed, opening the door a crack.

“Greetings, Phantom!” the Herald boomed, only to be frantically shushed by the halfa.

“Shut up dude! Are you trying to give me away?”

“Apologies, your Grace,” the ghost replied in a thankfully softer tone, “not to worry, you shall not be discovered. Why, I am so well hidden, none shall know of your secret!”

Danny cringed at the increase in volume. He looked around, hoping no one noticed. The hallway was packed with students and staff making their way to morning classes, but no one seemed to have picked up on the kid talking to his locker.

“Now with your permission, I shall recite to you the decree written by the Observants themselves!”

The Herald took Danny’s tired look as a green light and the halfa pinched the bridge of his nose as he listened to the Observants’ decree. Again.

“Whoa,” said a voice to Danny’s left, “that is a lot of speech.” Tucker moved in closer, picking up the end of the scroll that reached the floor, while Sam looked over Danny’s shoulder at the ghost currently phased halfway through his Chem textbook. To his relief, he noticed that they were also blocking the view of passerby into the locker.

“Ah, you must be the great allies of his Highness Phantom. Shall I repeat the decree for your benefit?”

His two best friends shared an amused look at the term ‘Highness’. Before they could say anything to make the situation worse, however, Danny powered up his thermos.

“I’m gonna have to stop you there. It’s nothing personal.”

A flash of light, and the Herald was gone.

Danny grabbed his books and turned to his friends, who now had their eyebrows raised very high.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, nothing, your Ghostliness” Sam said, emphasizing the last bit with a purposefully bad British accent, taking a few steps away from the lockers. “I just think that was a bit harsh of you.”

“Yeah, I feel bad for the guy,” Tucker sighed, shaking his head, “I mean, what’s a dude gotta do in this world to get appreciated?”

Sam nodded, adding, “Don’t shoot the messenger?”

Danny rubbed the back of his neck as they started walking to class. “I know it’s kinda mean, but I’m still processing? I think? This was the fifth time I’ve heard that decree since yesterday, but I don’t think it’s sunk in yet.”

“Ah, so avoiding responsibility! How unbecoming of my lord!” Tucker’s phony accent was worse than Sam’s.

“It’s not avoiding responsibility,” Danny replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s more ‘I have been offered Kingship of an entire dimension and I don’t really know what to think of that yet.’”

“So, stalling?” Sam asked.

He nodded. “Stalling.”

Their conversation came to a halt as they reached the classroom door.

“Whatever you say, your Majesty,” Tucker said in a reprisal of his bad British accent, bowing low. Sam followed suit, dropping into a low curtsy as the two of them made exaggerated motions beckoning him to enter the classroom first.

Danny rolled his eyes, stepping past his friends.

If they could joke about it, then this really wasn’t a problem.

——

The next few days were a testament to Danny’s stubbornness.

And the stubbornness of the Observants and their Heralds.

At first, Team Phantom would joke about it, calling Danny ‘Your Highness’ or ‘Your Grace’ whenever they got the chance. But they all quickly got tired of it, and simply watched as Danny declined offer after offer. Meanwhile, Jack and Maddie were very confused and concerned by the recent spike in their ghost-detecting gadgets’ readings.

But Danny didn’t acknowledge the events over the next few days as a problem. Nope. Not a problem at all.

Not when Heralds popped up in the strangest places during class, not when they phased their heads through his meals, not even when a Herald appeared right in front of him while he was in the shower. He was glad they didn’t interfere in fights, because, yes, they have appeared during fights but they never got in the way.

No, Danny finally came to terms with this issue on a random occasion. That occasion being when he turned the corner on his way to English the and almost plowed through yet another Herald.

“Sir Phantom, please hearken to the words of the mighty Observants as I read them aloud!”

At this point, he was starting to lose count of how many Heralds had gone after him. He tuned out the babbling ghost in front of him and looked around the hallways, scanning for any witnesses. Not a soul in sight…. besides the one in front of him.

The halfa pulled out a thermos from his backpack, the Herald made a noise of protest at the sight of the gadget, and in a matter of seconds the hallway was empty once more.

He was really pushing his luck. He could’ve gotten caught if he hadn’t been late for class.

Oh, crud. He was late for class.

——

Now, admitting he had a problem brought Danny one step closer to dealing with it. At least, that’s what Jazz had said to him. He knew the constant stream of Heralds interrupting their days were getting on his friends’ and sister’s nerves. Heck, they were starting to get on his.

The next step was actually doing something about the acknowledged issue. Which wasn’t hard, all things considered.

The next time a Herald popped up, Danny was in an empty alley, about to transform back into a human. He took his chance, waited for what felt like eternity for the ghost to finish reciting the decree, and accepted the offer. On the condition that he would be the one to decide when to be crowned and who were to be his guests. The delighted specter bowed low several times, and happily agreed to the terms. Danny had never seen someone so relieved. After giving Danny directions to the coronation’s venue, he disappeared with a small ‘pop!’.

After the ghost had left, he transformed, his black jumpsuit being replaced by a t-shirt and jeans. Sitting down, he sighed, leaning back on his palms and looking up at the night sky. He couldn’t see a lot of stars here. Not with all the light pollution Amity gave off. But he could see a few, and they were beautiful.

Danny wasn’t the Ghost King.

...not yet.

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2020 #my writing #phanphic #team ghost

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buckyreaderrecs · 4 years

Text

So Far Away: Chapter 5/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!)

First chapter in series. Previous chapter.

Chapter 5: It’s time to find your family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot, Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety and PTSD, major triggers for death of loved ones and grief, chapter 5 only possible trigger for food

Note: Please heed the warnings for this chapter; it’s a bit intense. As always, I’d love to know what you think. xo Rhi

So Far Away Chapter 5/?

The first night you'd spent at Stark Tower was forgettable in the sense that you had completely forgotten most of it. Vaguely, there was a bath, and Bucky, then bed. That was pretty much it though. So, it wasn't like the day after needed to do anything particularly special to be considered memorable. And yet, it was.

As Bucky put all the Mexican food trash into the paper Ubereats bag, you flicked through channels on television.

"Have you seen this?" you asked, stopping on Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

"I know, I know! I don't know shit about anything, but in my defence, I've been busy helpin' to save the world since I've been… good," Bucky replied, highly defensive but also still in good humour.

"Um… I just meant, 'cause it's a super underrated Disney movie. And nobody's seen it, like Hercules," you told him, holding back a grin.

"Oh… Sorry. Sam's always yelling at me," he explained, throwing the Ubereats bag in the bin and walking back over the couch from the kitchenette.

"About movies?"

"About everything," he said, rubbing his face. "He's cut up about me missing, like, all of hip-hop."

It made you laugh, which motivated Bucky to continue his bitching about Sam Wilson. "And! He thinks me and Steve should have more 'refined taste' in everything." He used air quotation marks, which Natasha Romanoff had taught him to use, much to the dismay of Steve. ("Captain America.")

"Refined taste?"

"Yeah, basically he loses it when he we like anythin' he thinks is bad. Like…" Bucky cycled through his list of favourite things. "The Fast and the Furious movies."

An image flashed in your mind of Steve and Bucky, completely decked out in their respective gear, marathoning the films, cheering at every car stunt and use of the NOS button. It made you smile, genuinely happy.

Bucky continues, "They ain't my favourite or anythin', but they're fun, ya know? He's probably just upset that whenever we get in car races it's mostly someone trying to kill us,"

"I guess that's… fair, but he's… The Falcon… that's super cool?"

Bucky grinned, but quickly shook his head. "Don't ever tell him you said that, okay? Never tell Sam you think he's cool,"

"Is it like feeding Gremlins after midnight?" you asked.

"I watched that one! And, yeah. It's exactly like that,"

"But it's not like you guys don't get to see cool things… and be cool,"

"I guess… We're used to it?" Bucky thought for a second or two, wriggled into the couch and rested his arm along the back of it. You turned to face him, legs crossed and entirely attentive. "Before the war I loved reading about what new gadgets were comin' out. Used to drag Steve to anything with tech stuff. But then, Hydra. I wasn't really conscious enough to realise I was in the future," he told you, chuckling a little to himself like it was funny. It was so nonchalant that it shocked you a little. He hadn't stuttered saying their name, or shifted to a darker mood. "Whenever I got re-programmed, I was re-trained too. Whatever advancements they made, I learnt. Meant when Shuri fixed my head up, I wasn't that inept. Got it a lot easier than Steve that way,"

"Just movies and T.V. and stuff that you missed then?" you asked, feeling like you needed to keep him talking because you'd never heard anything so goddamn interesting.

"Yeah. Hydra didn't exactly have a Netflix subscription for me," he said. You said nothing. "That was a joke. You can laugh," Bucky told you, softly nudging your knee.

"I don't know how you joke about it," you said honestly.

He shrugged. "You'll joke about all this too, one day," he replied.

No. No, I won't.

Bucky saw the conflict flash across you face.

"It's not like there isn't things that still blow my mind… Wakanda, for one," he continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Is it as cool as it looks on T.V.?"

"Cooler. It's gotta be one of my favourite places. And when I met Wanda… She thought I was a bit of a meatball. Never met anyone with powers like hers, you know? She's amazing. And Vision. Still don't really get what he's about,"

"So, you are friends with Wanda Maximoff but you think Vin Diesel is cool?" you asked, affronted.

Bucky laughed. "No. I think the cars are cool. The stunts! Vin Diesel seems like a jerk."

Another image flashed. Someone in the world, Vin Diesel, knowing that The Winter Soldier thought he was a bit of jerk.

Bucky watched you laugh.

"Come on, then. What's this one about?" he asked, turning back to the television.

"Atlantis-"

"Underwater city? I'm in."

That's about where you realised that Bucky Barnes was a massive nerd.

It took Bucky ten minutes to tell you that you needed to keep warm, putting the knitted blanket over you. It took twenty to have him scoot closer to you, his arm still on the back of the couch, behind your head. About half an hour in, Bucky said, "Yeah, this is better than Snow White. I love this little mole guy."

Bucky was watching, listening for any signs that the lack of conversation had given you time to think, to spiral. But, it hadn't. Atlantis was a comfort movie for you, a distraction. He could see you smile and frown along with the characters.

"It was pretty obvious that this was gonna happen," Bucky said at the high point of the plot twist. He was aiming for a reaction. You looked at him fast and dramatic. "I'm good at picking the bad guys. Kinda my job."

At the rolling of the credits, Bucky asked, "Ice cream?"

As he put a collection of Ben and Jerry's on the counter top, Bucky caught himself in a sudden realisation. He was keeping you busy. Eventually, you'd notice, or the day would carry on and bedtime would come; the quietness between 'goodnight' and sleep would crush you, pushing from you anxiety and grief. But first, Bucky thought, ice cream.

"Half Baked," you said. Bucky handed you the pint and a spoon.

You watched him open the Strawberry Cheesecake, Cherry Garcia, and Urban Bourbon. "Variety is the spice of life," he said grinning, his voice a strange mocking tone, like he was parroting someone you'd never met.

"I genuinely don't know where all that food goes,"

"In here," he answered, lifting his shirt and patting his tummy.

"Yeah, but like, do you have one of those trash compactor things that mooshes it all down super small?"

Bucky laughed. "Maybe. Who knows what's going on inside 'ere."

You were sitting on a bar stool, leaning against the kitchenette's counter. Bucky put the spoons in the dishwasher and the uneaten ice cream away. He liked things in their place, you noted.

"So," he said, too casually. It felt, correctly, like a lead up. "How are you feeling?"

"Full," you answered, honest, but also not really.

Bucky looked at you, nodded. "What else?"

You dropped your gaze, breaking eye contact. A nervousness grew in you, the gatekeeper to all the bad. It was telling you to flee - answering the question wouldn't be nice. You could tell that Bucky wouldn't change the subject though. He could wait in that silence all day for you to speak.

"I…" you began. "I don't know. There's just… a lot,"

"Yeah. That makes sense. There is a lot… Probably good to start telling me about it." When you said nothing to that, he added, "Or someone else. We can-"

"I feel guilty," you blurted out, partly to stop him suggesting you talk to anyone else, partly because the gate was opening and the guilt as behind it in abundance. Bucky nodded like he already knew what you were going to say, and what you meant. "I… I'm here. Where I'm more than safe," you said, looking around at the suite. "But I haven't done anything to deserve it-" Bucky went to say something but stopped himself. "I'm not the most hurt, or the most useful person to save or anything like that. And then, I haven’t even looked-" That was it. The tears began to stream down your face, heavy and hot. You could feel them pooling in your shirt somewhere. The sentence you started was lost, completely drowned out by sobs.

Bucky remained composed. He fetched tissues from the bathroom, took it upon himself to clear your face, ready for the next wave. It arrived immediately. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling you into him. There would be wetness and snot all over his hoodie when you would eventually move, but you didn’t think of that in the moment and Bucky really didn’t care. He stood between your legs, rocking you gently on the stool for a minute before you spoke again.

"I haven't even looked for anybody," you said, so softly and so painfully that even priests in confessional booths would have hung their heads.

"How could you?" Bucky asked.

During the time before his head was really put back together, that is what everyone did with him. They challenged Bucky's questions, forced logic on him, rending much of the harmful conclusions he'd drawn about himself incorrect. It was a good strategy and he'd learned it well.

You half shrugged and kept crying. A cycle had begun in your mind. You were crying because you felt guilty, but that made you feel selfish and stupid. You thought you should be crying for other people. All of that, of course, made you feel more guilty, starting the cycle all over again. But maybe that cycle was easier to loop on than any real feelings of grief and loss.

"When were ya meant to have time to find people? Couldn't do it in the refuge centre. Too much goin’ on. And your hand was smashed, probably killin' you. And like Doc said - in shock," he said, paused, waited for a response.

Bucky's hands were moving up and down your back with enough pressure to calm you sobs into softer hiccups and sniffles.

"Yeah?" Bucky prompted. You nodded and shrugged simultaneously. "Okay, so, couldn't have done it on the way here or last night. You were exhausted. Could hardly keep yourself upright. Ain't much use to anybody like that."

You covered your nose with a tissue and sat up. Even if he didn't care, you didn't want him to see you with a face covered in snot. Bucky had the tact to look away while he continued. You listened as you wiped your face clean.

"This morning, whisked ya away to Medical. Then force fed you some food. And now, we're here. So, if you're asking me, darlin', not too sure when you think you were meant to do all this people finding, you know?"

Bucky could see it in your face that you knew he was right. When you nodded, saying, "I guess," he felt completely victorious.

You drank the glass of water Bucky poured for you, then took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three.

"Okay," you said, voice almost normal.

"Okay," he repeated in solidarity.

"Can we find them now?"

…

The room was definitely not for civilians, but nobody stopped Bucky from walking in with you. It was a buzzing hub of activity and urgency. Voices spoke fast, people moved faster.

"It's kind of like a command centre," Bucky tried to explain. "Whenever there's a threat, we have a response team that do… I guess what would happen if there was an earthquake or somethin'. Search and rescue. Coordinating relief."

You nodded and stayed close to Bucky's side, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

"Sergeant Barnes," a very tired woman greeted.

"Hey. I'm really sorry to-"

"No time for that. What can we do for you?" she cut him off.

"Finding people that were in the attack zone," he replied.

"Everything we know, F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows. Integrated systems. Find a computer, preferably not in here, and ask her. Anything else?"

"No. Thank-" but she was gone.

Bucky hooked an arm around your waist and walked you back to the elevator.

"She was amazing," you said.

Bucky grinned. "Never met her before, but yeah, lot of people like that around here."

On a floor of the tower that was much calmer, Bucky and you sat in what you supposed was some sort of crazy high-tech boardroom.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"James,"

"Oh, it's James now?"

"Yes. How can I be of assistance?"

The first step was making a list of everyone you knew who lived or worked in the part of D.C. that was affected. You named them, confirmed through social media accounts and DMV records.

"Do you guys have access to, like, everything?" you asked Bucky.

"Probably shouldn't answer that," Bucky replied, winking.

Step two was all F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I work fast, but I'd like to check my work, Y/N," she told you.

"If you can, can you check with-" Bucky went to ask.

"First responder reports?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked.

"Must be the day for being cut off by women smarter than me, huh?"

"I could be mistaken, James, but isn't that every day?"

Bucky laughed, looked at you for back up, but saw you staring at screen in front of you. The list of names.

Once you'd actually made it, you realised there were likely less people to find than you first though. Your housemate, Lucas, was a bike courier. He may have been out of the zone, 50/50 chance. Elizabeth, your best friend, lived on the next block over. She was home when the attack happened. You were watching her Instagram live; she was feeding her pet snake, Salem. Then, the girls at the hole in the wall café you worked at, Glory. You didn't know who was shift, so you listed all five.

There were more, but felt like naming everyone you knew would be greedy somehow. Bucky said, when you were ready, you could look through the list of the deceased. Even hearing the phrase made you feel sick though.

"Do you want to wait here?" Bucky asked.

You turned to him, ran your hands through your hair. "I don't know… I can't…" but whatever you couldn’t, you couldn’t even articulate.

Bucky nodded. "How about we get some fresh air? When we get back, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will have something for us?"

…

Out on the street, everything was loud. The whole back-in-reality thing really took you off guard. Seeing the city from the top of the Tower was different to this.

"I got ya," Bucky said, coming to walk right by your side. You looked over at him, and he offered his hand. You immediately accepted.

As you walked by multiple cafés, you wondered if Bucky had a favourite, or maybe there was a secret superhero club behind a hidden door in an inconspicuous bodega or Chinese restaurant. Alas, earwax - no such luck. Bucky held the door of a standard looking café open.

The guy behind the coffee machine nodded. "Buck,"

"Hey, Gee,"

"Seen ya's all on the news. Everyone okay?" Gee the barista asked, the genuine concern evident in his tone and expression.

"Ah, yeah. You know - nothing they can't handle," Bucky replied; you suspected it was the party line.

"Good, good. What can we get for ya then?"

"Don't worry about it, bud. I'll jump in line."

Gee shook his head and smiled as Bucky took his place in the queue to order. "You wanna grab a table? Or wait with me?" he asked you.

"Stay," you replied, stepping closer to him.

While you held your body in a way that shielded your broken bones from people's paths, it was easy being close to Bucky. He was probably very accustomed to being around the injured, so never accidentally hit the cast. You were grateful.

Bucky reached out and curled hair behind your ears, then leaned in to kiss the top of your nose. It was intimate, and brought solace. It was also very public; as he moved away, started greeting the girl at the counter, you realised there were more than a few pairs of eyes on you. Turning from the room, you stood closer to Bucky and listened to their conversation.

"You know I can't tell you that," Bucky said, leaning against the counter like he owned it.

"But, like, it's over, right? We won?"

"Tiff, would I be standing here if there was something else I could be doing?"

Tiff nodded, made a face like she'd been let in on a state secret. "Hmmm," she pondered for a second. Then, with pep, "So, the usual then? For one of Earth's mightiest heroes?"

Bucky rolled his eyes at her. "I hate you," he joked before looking at you. "What will it be?"

You hadn't really thought as far as ordering. Already feeling self-conscious and spaced out, the burning in your cheeks was getting hotter.

"Thinking maybe a pot of tea to share?" Bucky suggested, casual, but also sending you a quick wink - he was saving you again.

"Tea's great," you said.

After ordering, Bucky chose a couple of oversized armchairs by the window to sit in. He let you breathe, let you stare through the glass and people watch for a long time. He answered messages on his phone, checked in with Steve while you daydreamed. So deep in thought, or maybe just completely zoned out, you didn't even notice Bucky had made a call, or that the pot of tea had been placed on the small table between you.

Bucky said your name, but you failed to move. He reached out, tapped a knuckle against your knee. You gasped, felt your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry!" he said immediately. "Didn’t mean to scare you…"

"No, it's alright. I'm just… um,"

"You're alright, darlin'. How do you take your tea?"

It was a simple enough question, but you looked down at the table like it was all alien.

"Maybe you can make your own," Bucky said, pushing the tea tray closer to you. "Give you something to focus on. Bring you back down to earth."

…

Although you were hardly touching your tea or the cookies the staff brought over as a gift, Bucky let you sit for much longer than what anyone normally would. It was starting to get dark, the café closing around you, when you finally seemed to become aware of the rest of the world again.

"Oh. Should we go?"

"Sure," Bucky replied, standing and holding his hand out again.

After thanking everyone, you were out in the city, walking back to the Tower.

The silence that existed between you and Bucky was a comfortable one, but the closer you got to your destination, the more nervous you felt. Something in your mind snapped, told you to try to be normal. So, you started to talk. Fast. And a lot.

"Do you all go there? Like, the Avengers? It was nice. They really like you. The cookies were good-"

Bucky cut in, stopping you more than actually wanting to answer. "It's easier to go to the same places. The novelty of us eventually wears off," he told you.

"Yeah, people don't really stop staring, do they? Must get tiring, having everyone watch you all the time. And treat you different." You internally begged yourself to shut the fuck up.

"Guess I don't really know what 'normal' would be… Don't like people giving me free stuff all the time though. Don't need it. Not really a skip-the-line type of guy," he said.

You wondered how much charity he needed after Steve brought him back into the fold. Instead of asking about that, you thankfully went with, "Must be nice sometimes though?"

Bucky thought for a second. It was one of the changes in personality he experienced after Hydra. Bucky in the 30s and early 40s was a little bit of an attention seeker, a true lover of the limelight. Not so much anymore. He thought of you then - how you'd considered him to be a hero, and how you had needed him. How you still needed him.

"Maybe there's a couple perks."

You nodded, went quiet again. Bucky noticed that you switched between that frantic, almost manic state and scary quiet a fair bit. He rolled with it, a little notorious for the odd mood swing himself.

It was in the elevator of Stark Tower that you started to get jittery. The palms of your hands started to sweat, but Bucky didn't let go. He also tried to not seem like all of his attention was fixated on you, but it was. When he took you back to his suite, rather than the crazy high-tech boardroom, he thought about explaining why, but figured it wasn't one of the main things on your mind.

Sitting on the couch in the same place you'd eaten burritos for brunch, you pulled the knitted blanket back over yourself.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, sitting down next to you and putting a glass of water and box of tissues on the coffee table. You nodded. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., how'd you go?"

You felt sick, real deep down in your stomach. It was a pushing force, making you hot and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the blanket was too heavy and you pushed it away with a weird anger.

Bucky wanted to hold you, but he knew the sensation of feeling trapped by grief. He gave you space and braced himself for what was about to hit you.

"I'm not sure what the best order to deliver this is," F.R.I.D.A.Y. admitted. She knew the limits of her programmed humanity, and it was probably the most impressive thing about her.

"Good news first," Bucky said.

"I've located Lucas and Elizabeth. Lucas is currently residing in an apartment just outside the affected zone. It belongs to a Jacob Short,"

"That's his boyfriend's dad," you said, nodding to yourself. Lucas was safe.

"Elizabeth is currently admitted to Howard University Hospital. She has a broken clavicle and humerus, and damage to the glenohumeral joint - all to her right side. She is in stable condition."

You breathed out hard, then took a tissue to your face. You'd not even noticed that you'd started to cry.

"Glory was destroyed," F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued.

That's when you looked up from the patch of floor you'd been staring at. On the screen of the television, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been showing you relevant things - the Facebook status geotagging Lucas at his boyfriend's family home, the rental agreement that showed who lived at that address, Elizabeth's medical records, even security footage of her in the hospital.

You shouldn't have looked up.

For a moment, Bucky didn't understand why your breathing had all but stopped. Average people don't get a slideshow to accompany their bad news. He looked at the screen. A photo, then another, showed the entire building Glory was a part of reduced to rubble.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., maybe we don't need the show with the tell," Bucky said.

"No!" you yelled. "I need to see."

If there was information, visual or verbal, you needed it.

"I logged into WorkForce using your credentials to view the roster. Two people were working at the time of the attacks: Carly Underwood and Ellie Gilbert," F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. Before she said it, you knew it. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Both have been put on the list of deceased. Carly has been identified officially. Ellie is pending, but using our facial recognition and matching, I can confirm it's her."

You stood up, ripping the hoodie you were wearing off. If it was too hot before, now you felt like you were made of lava.

Bucky watched you start to pace. Your expression was alarmingly flat.

"The rest of your co-workers are safe. Only a Tara Constantine was in the affected area. She was on a bus moved to safety by Peter Parker."

There was footage taken from somebody's phone of Spiderman saving bus and carloads of people.

"I used your social media accounts to create an index of known people. As far as I can tell, you do not directly know anyone else on the list of deceased."

The phrase was still making you feel sick.

Bucky mistook that as F.R.I.D.A.Y. being finished. He thanked her, asked her to keep him updated if anything changed.

"Sorry, Sergeant. There's more."

Both you and Bucky went still. What else could there be?

"Your parents, Y/N,"

"They live on the other side of the city. Probably worried about me, right?" You turned to the screen, expected to see a worried Facebook posted asking if anyone had seen you. How could telling them you were safe not be your first thought? Stupid. Selfish.

On the screen was a grainy traffic cam photo of your parents driving. It was time and date stamped.

"They're fine," you said.

"Y/N, I'm sorry… Your parents aren't on the list of deceased-"

"Yeah, because they're fine!"

Suddenly, you remembered you did call them. You were still in the refuge centre, and it took you an hour to find someone with a phone willing to share. First, you called your dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Your mum didn't pick up. Only a month before, they'd had the landline switched off. How did you forget calling?

"But using street surveillance, I tracked their car into the affected zone. They got caught in the attack-"

"No. No. They hate that part of town. I didn't even move in that long ago and they already hate it. There's no reason for them to be there," you said, angry. No reason… except you.

"I checked through unidentified photographs-" she tried to continue, her voice noticeably more robotic than Bucky had ever heard it. He was grateful to have her then.

"The what?" you asked, confused and flustered and still feeling so fucking sick.

Bucky sighed, figured he should explain that one. "It's the same as natural disasters… When they find bodies, move them to try to identify them, they make a catalogue of photos to help. F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s saying she checked through them,"

"So? They're fine,"

"Our facial recognition and matching have a 100% accuracy record, but… I could be wrong," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Bucky knew she wasn't, and was discomforted by her attempt at gentleness.

"Wrong about what?" you spat, already knowing.

"I believe your parents have passed away,"

"Show me," you said.

"Y/N, I-" from Bucky.

"Show me!" you yelled, moving to the screen, standing so close you swore you could feel the electricity buzzing from it.

The photographs from traffic cams were still up, static. You stared them down, waiting.

Bucky walked to you, stood behind you, held his breath.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't speak again. She showed you all the photos of your parents she had found to base her conclusion on. The reach of her skills became apparent and terrifying. There was no way she and everything she could do, was legal. As photos from private accounts, devices, and websites flashed up, along with dozens from the DMV and work place IDs, you felt all the heat you'd brewed up drain from you.

Your body began to meltdown - you needed to pee, your mouth went dry, and earaches formed out of nowhere. It felt like you were being stabbed in the lower back. None of it made sense.

The screen went still again.

"Show me," you said once more.

Two overexposed photographs appeared on screen. Both were framed similarly - head shots of undeniably dead people. Also undeniable was the fact that they were the corpses of your parents.

"Turn it off," Bucky said.

The screen went black but you didn't look away. As long as you stayed there staring, the image wouldn't fade. You could see them in your mind. You could see the indent in your father's head, skull visible. You could see the blood on your mother’s face. Tape held their eyelids closed.

"Y/N," Bucky whispered, standing close. He waited for a response. Time was ticking by excruciatingly slowly. "Y/N, I'm gonna help you to bed," he said, but you flinched, so he stopped moving towards you. "Okay… That's okay. You can stay-" but before he could end the sentence with 'here,' you screamed out a guttural cry that mutated into sobbing.

Very quickly for Bucky then, time sped up again. It was moving too fast though. Your legs gave up, and he caught you only just before hitting the floor. You crawled out of his arms, along the floor, dry heaving between sobs and yelped of pain as you ignored the fact one hand was crushed. In the couple of seconds it took him to work out if you were going to throw up, you did. You puked all the Mexican and tea you'd had, then continued to crawl, making it close enough to a wall that you could lay on your side and lean against it.

Bucky knelt in front of you, tried to pull your hair into the tie that was usually around his wrist. Once successful, he went to retrieve a cold, wet wash cloth. He wiped your face but gave up when the sobbing seemed to get louder. He could make out words sometimes. For the most part, there was nothing coherent in your mind to articulate. You curled up into a ball, switching between deep sobs and outright screams.

Eventually, it all subsided into an even crying but you stayed in a tight ball. Bucky sat beside you, pressed close enough that he could feel each movement you made. After hours, once you'd gone quiet, Bucky whispered, "I'm gonna look after you, Y/N. Promise."

Chapter 6 coming soon...

Tag list for So Far Away: @animegirlgeeky @howthehellisbucky @dumbubblegum @chipilerendi

Tag list for all my work: @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets (of course it doesn’t let me tag you! I’ll message you)

Tag lists are open - message me to be added.

#mine #So Far Away #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes reader insert #Marvel #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes x You

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bestworstcase · 4 years

Note

Since Gilbert took over Corona in the latest chapter, I wanted to know like, what is his relationship with his brothers? Do he and Frederic usually get along? Is it a kind of "I was supposed to inherent the throne" kind of deal? Also how does he feel about Arianna, Punzel, and Eugene?

alrighty so!!

gilbert is the middle sibling; fred’s older, ludolf is younger. i don’t think he has much, if anything, in the way of ambition to rule—he’s very much a traditionalist and that includes buying into the system of monarchy and frederic having the “right” to rule as the eldest son.

however he absolutely is not the kind of person who could loaf around being a rich prince all his life, and since the temple didn’t appeal to him (too boring) and neither did diplomacy (too delicate), as a young man he enlisted in ingvarr’s battalion and served as an officer in the hvassjarn war, which was a fairly significant war ~20 years ago involving, primarily, a territorial dispute between ingvarr and seland, with their respective allies getting dragged into the mix (and quintonia stuck in the middle like “god damn it, guys, again?).

and that is an environment in which gilbert definitely thrived. he always has a very black and white, us-vs-them mentality that suited him well for war; he liked the military camaraderie of the battalion, the physical and mental challenges of battle, and the... simplicity? of the whole conflict. i think any political nuances that existed were entirely lost on him and in his mind it was a very straightforward... we (the seven kingdoms) are the good guys, we want the land, seland/the hĺessian alliance doesn’t want to give us the land, therefore they are bad and we’re fighting them.

buuut then the war ended, and he retired with honors from the battalion and returned home to corona, where... there was really nothing for him to do except advise frederic and involve himself with the king’s watch, which is the closest thing corona has to a standing army. and i think he found that sort of boring and unfulfilling / ended up being to restless to ever... like start a family of his own.

i figure in the last 20 or so years he’s been in and out of corona a fair amount for diplomatic reasons, and he doesn’t... enjoy that, but it’s something he can do to Serve Corona, which he’s very keen to do. because he’s very patriotic. but like, in general, he isn’t a man who... can exist without an enemy, if that makes sense? he needs a them to be in opposition against, and in times of peace there’s really not. a clear cut them

and then of course in this same time frame his baby niece was kidnapped and he was heartbroken about that and dealt with that heartbreak by, even moreso than frederic did, looking for someone to blame...

...which is where his hatred of saporians really started to boil over. like he was never not bigoted against them, but when he was a younger man i think it really was more just the average... thoughtless dismissal / distaste and casual distrust of saporian culture that Most Coronans have. but after rapunzel was kidnapped gilbert a) looked at the exploding popularity of saporian separatism and went “clearly Those People stole, and probably killed, my infant niece,” and then b) generalized separatism to all saporians and entrenched himself further and further in that bigotry until he got to... where he is today, which is something goes wrong and his knee-jerk reaction is to be like “the saporians did this somehow”

when the saporians / the coalition between the separatists and the syconium started actually seriously laying the groundwork for a rebellion, gilbert was already mentally primed to jump straight to saporians are the enemy and we need to treat this like a war...

...which frederic repeatedly refused to do. and gilbert was legitimately distressed about this, because in his mind, saporians are The Enemy/not coronan, and they’re a dire threat to corona, and he can see very clearly that they’re going to become a worse threat if something isn’t done, and... frederic is doing nothing about it. [what fred is actually doing is applying moderation and recognizing that saporians are part of corona too, but that. doesn’t register as doing anything, in gilbert’s brain]

so gilbert is like UH??? because it feels to him like he’s the only sane person left in the room and everyone else is just sitting on their butts with their heads in the sand. and he really doesn’t know what to do about it other than loudly and insistently asking fred to Do Something, but that keeps... not... working...

and then the saporians steal the journal of herz der sonne. this compromises herzingen’s security in a MAJOR way, and gilbert is able to wring a couple concessions out of it... but it’s nowhere near what he feels is enough, in his mind the task force (under sir peter’s command, not his) is a token gesture at best. it’s not going to fix anything.

and then his niece gets kidnapped AGAIN! and STILL nothing changes! the witch who kidnapped and hurt her gets coddled [this is how gilbert interprets sir peter chewing out the guards he catches roughing her up] and lackadaisical security allows her to not just escape but also murder a guard on the way out. and still nothing changes except for a handful of arrests and interrogations that don’t really go anywhere.

so gilbert is getting very frustrated and uneasy and upset, and he feels like the only person taking this huge burgeoning crisis seriously...

...and that’s where he’s at when cass dips and leaves her note confessing to stealing the journal, and gilbert is like. HOLY SHIT. THIS HAS GOTTA CHANGE THINGS. and he pushes very very hard for more stringent measures, and for the most part he gets them, but that ends up being, in his mind, too little too late, because just a couple weeks later socona revolts and almost thirty coronan guards die. (and there’s also the report from falke that two of the guards stationed in socona were traitors lol)

and then in the scene with him and sir peter in the hospital in artois, gilbert very much sees that... sir peter is not going to emotionally be able to handle a war where cassandra is on the other side, so he’s like. weighing up the odds he can get frederic to remove sir peter from the commandership and he’s like... Doubt.

so that’s the point at which gilbert commits himself to a coup, because he is at his wit’s end and in his mind it’s either... a leader who is better prepared for war steps up to steer corona through this, or the saporians destroy corona forever, and as much as he doesn’t want it to come to forcibly removing frederic from power he feels like it’s his only choice, because frederic is too soft and sir peter is too emotionally compromised by. everything.

and then it’s uh. about a month, give or take a bit, for gilbert to actually put the coup together—which is a FAST turn around, but he’s able to pull it off because a lot of the king’s watch is very unhappy about how sir peter has been handling the whole “saporians keep killing guards” and “cassandra was a traitor” situations, and it doesn’t take a whole lot of effort to get enough of them on his side for a coup to be possible. and then he waits until the next opportunity presents itself and rolls in with a plan and the backing of corona’s closest thing to an army at his back and strong-arms frederic into abdicating to facilitate a “peaceful” transfer of power. and now frederic and arianna are under a soft house arrest rip them

*deep breath*

anyway all of that is a long winded way of saying in gilbert’s mind, he’s 100% the Virtuous Underdog Hero who is Selflessly Stepping Up to save corona from its Well Meaning But Incompetent Leaders in a Time of Dire Consequence. so that’s where he was coming from.

as for his relationships with his family:

- he loves frederic but does not respect him very much, because the events of benighted / fred completely losing any semblance of control he had over the separatists eroded gilbert’s respect for him pretty signifcantly. (prior to benighted, i think gilbert felt pretty favorably about frederic’s leadership; he approved heartily of the crackdown, though he kept trying to nudge fred to go even harder to clean up those last few hotspots of separatism in southern corona)

- he also loves ludolf but ludolf confuses him because ludolf is perfectly content with his life as a rector and gilbert is just kinda like. but isn’t it boring. but he keeps that thought to himself because gilbert is a fairly devout man and he respects ludolf’s decision to devote his life to the temple quite a bit even if he absolutely does not get it. he does however think that ludolf, and the whole temple really, is Too Soft and Too Idealistic to function in reality

- he clashes with arianna a lot on political grounds because they have almost no common ground in their opinions on the direction corona should go, but he likes her as a person and thinks she’s generally a good fit for frederic / he’s pleased to have her as a sister in law. they just. have a no politics at the dinner table sort of agreement. because otherwise they Will fight.

- he was firmly, if silently, convinced that rapunzel was dead until she strolled back into herzingen. after that he was delighted to be wrong, and very happy for fred and ari’s sake in addition to just happy to have his niece back / for the chance to get to know her. i think a lot of his pushing and some of the desperation he has in benighted comes in part from a desire to protect rapunzel, though he sorta conflates her safety with the safety of corona as a whole in a way that frederic doesn’t.

- he... did not like eugene at all at first, and still doesn’t like him very much. he thinks eugene is a rude, ignorant layabout who is taking advantage of frederic’s and arianna’s gratitude and he does not like that rapunzel is involved with him and he was PISSED after the botched proposal. i think fred and ari had to tag team him to get him not to just like. explode at eugene, and that only worked because gilbert knew other people were chewing eugene out for the whole thing. he has warmed up to eugene very slightly since then, because eugene started to get his act together and stopped acting so lazy. but he still is definitely like, hoping rapunzel will dump him and kick him out of the palace soon lbjkskdjlfjksd

- he’s very big on the Idea of family, even though he was never able/ready to start a family of his own (which i think... is something that bothers him a bit, though not something he dwells on). so the coup is something he genuinely didn’t want to do to frederic, but he did it because he felt it was for the greater good / he had to put his personal feelings aside to do the Right Thing. and in general he wants and tries to have good personal relationships with his family.

#bitter snow #Anonymous

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forestwater87 · 5 years

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Would you want Gwen and David to become a couple at the end of CampCamp? And adopt Max as well? Cuz' I do...

Gwenvid becoming canon is one of those things I simultaneously love and feel is unnecessary. The show will never let it be as pure and fluffy (or emo) as the fans will make it, anyway, and there is no force on earth that will stop me from shipping this ship with every ounce of my shriveled little heart, so I’m kinda ambivalent on the whole thing. (Besides, I know at least one of the showrunners is not at all into it, so I don’t see it happening no matter how much we may want it to. As long as they keep giving us little ship nuggets we can read way too much into, I’ll be good.)

Also I’m not convinced CC is the kind of show that needs an end, so “at the end” is one of those things that … eh, whatever. It’s an endless summer existing outside of time. Does it ever have to end, as long as they keep having new ideas?

As for the other part of this question … oh, boy. Anon, you did not ask me to go the fuck off on this question, but I gotta because I’ve been holding all this inside for literal years, and I don’t even care that this will make me hemorrhage followers because I’ve been very good and very quiet about it for a long-ass time and I just gotta –

I fucking hate Dad//vid.

And you know? I didn’t used to. My feelings, much like those regarding Cute Waitress, went from “how cute!” to “eh, not my thing but whatever,” and now we’ve circled all the way around to my entire soul lighting on rage-fire every time it’s mentioned, and just … I hate it so much … it’s just …

I feel like this deserves an explanation. And I think the people who’ve already blocked me or whatever aren’t going to read it, so let’s put it under a cut just for the sake of scrolling. But here’s the cliffs notes version:

1. It’s #NotAllDad//vid. There are some iterations of it I don’t hate, and even quite like.

2. David adopting Max, as a general concept, blows. There are exceptions – see #1 – but 99 times out of 100 I hate it with all of my hate. (The short reasons why: David is baby and Forest has Issues, it’s kiiiiinda racist?, and it’s lazy, boring, and way overdone.)

3. The fandom will not fucking chill about it – at the expense of all other explorations of David and Max’s relationship. And that makes me highkey annoyed.

That being said, anyone who’s worried my blog will become a cesspool of dad//vid hate, please don’t be concerned. This is like lancing a boil of something (I’m bad at metaphors). All the garbage pours out in one massive textblock, and then I go back to being more or less chill about the whole thing. We’re dealing with years of repression here. Shit’s gonna be a lot more intense than it needs to be, and then we’ll settle back down to our regularly-scheduled CC fluff times.

I’m hoping this doesn’t make the fandom hate me forever … but given #3 up there, I’m pretty dang scared it will.

(And hey, I don’t want Cute Waitress to explode in a pit of fire and snakes anymore, so maybe my opinion on dad//vid will change eventually too. Always hold out hope, right?)

1. #NotAllDad//vid

Like I said, I didn’t used to totally despise the whole Dad//vid thing. Like, I love the idea of David having been a counselor for so long that he just has ingrained Dad Instincts (see S4E14 for the most recent example of this). David as the Dad Friend? Good shit. David as the mother/father hen of his little cabal of campers? Very good shit. Nonliteral interpretations of dad//vid are usually really cute and fun and have some solid basis in canon, and I’m all about it.

Even some of the more literal David-adopts-Max AUs aren’t … the worst. Some of my friends have written versions of it that are original or at least were at the time and really compelling, and usually they found a way of skirting past the majority of the issues in #2. It can be done well.

It just … usually … isn’t.

And for that we gotta see #2.

2. David-Adopts-Max Sucks as a Concept

There is nothing good about the idea of David adopting Max, at least based on what we’ve currently seen in canon.

(Yes, I am aware that I should couch statements like that with “in my opinion” and “with exceptions” and the like, but that’s a lot of work for this and a bunch of the stuff I’m gonna say in a second, so please just assume for the purposes of everything I put on this blog that it’s in my opinion. I’m not out here dropping Cold Hard Facts about Camp Camp of all things; I’m just spewing my feelings.

I have lots of feelings.)

I don’t really have a cute little opening segment for this, so let’s skip the hors d’oeuvres and hop right into the meat of it:

David is Way Too Young to be a Father (According to Forest, Who Has Massive Emotional Baggage About These Things)

David is 24 goddamn years old. You know who shouldn’t be put in constant legal charge of a 10-year-old? Someone who is only 14 years older than him. If he’d had Max the old-fashioned way he would be too young to go on 16 and Pregnant.

That is too fucking young.

I know that some people become parents that young, and even younger. I’m not saying your experiences are bad or invalid. I’m just saying, from the standpoint of being 26, that if one of my two-years-younger friends told me they were adopting a kid they knew from work, I would tell them they were fucking bonkers and to hand that child over to a grown-up immediately. This is especially true of David, who has remarkable emotional maturity but is also mentally about 8 years old. Gwen is the adult at that camp, and David is such a baby.

Please don’t give the baby a baby.

Also, I’m terrified of having children. I never plan to, I’ve only recently accepted the fact that I don’t have to (grew up religious; it was kinda a whole thing), and get knee-jerk defensive over the idea of anyone my age or younger having children. It freaks me out, and that’s not a good or right emotional reaction to have but it’s mine, and I lowkey panic every time I think of David having children because if he should have a child at 24 then I’m already late.

Yes, I get the feeling that I’m running behind. For something I don’t actually want, ever. In comparison to a fictional character. Whose fatherhood decisions are not even remotely canon.

TL;DR I have issues and my other arguments are decidedly more valid than this one

So How About That Racism, Huh?

I know this has been a matter of some debate in the CC fandom for a while now … but you know what? It’s not nearly enough of a debate. People should absolutely be talking more about the potential problematique aspects of having a way too young white kid take a child from his immigrant parents on some pretty shoddy evidence (which I’ll address in the next section). There’s some White Savior stuff going on there, some negatively-stereotyping-poc-and-immigrant parents going on there … I’m not saying these should completely disqualify any dad//vid AUs or speculation or anything, but it should absolutely be much more of a conversation than it currently is.

(This is why one of the few David-adopts-Max concepts I like is one in which his parents have died. Not only is it more interesting – again, see the next bit – but it neatly sidesteps some potential gross stereotyping, and that’s just always rad.)

I feel like the common counterargument to this is that there are not-great parents of color and not-great immigrant parents IRL, so wouldn’t it be dishonest not to portray that in fiction as well?

I mean … I dunno.

I’m not here to tell anyone how to write the One Pure Dad//vid AU or anything. But I will say that I don’t think most people in love with this concept have done anything resembling due diligence in considering how best to sensitively portray the complicated familial, racial, and other implications of this particular AU or concept.

Besides, it’s not real life. It’s fiction, which means any decisions are being made deliberately. It’s a choice to depict Max’s parents as abusive and neglectful monsters who immigrated to America to give their son a better life but that’s for the next section, and it’s not inherently a bad choice, but it’s one that should be made thoughtfully, with an eye to the history of negative stereotypes that already run rampant in fiction. That’s just part of the writing process, and not one that should be shunted aside because it’s more work and less dramatic than creating the biggest of big bads for David to make grand speeches at and/or punch in the face.

Just Not Very Interesting (And Done to Death)

Regarding the overdone thing: Reading a David-adopts-Max AU most of the time is just like reading every other David-adopts-Max AU; I’m pretty sure I could put all these fics on transparencies, overlay them on top of one another, and still have a legible story because they differ so little.

Now to be clear: This – along with the rest of my points in this section – are about personal taste. Some people love reading the same story over and over again, and it brings immense comfort to them. That’s okay, and you shouldn’t feel bad about reading (or writing) these stories and not wanting to break your back trying to find a new angle for it. Cringe culture is canceled, and my personal tastes should not dictate the fandom. You do you.

That being said, I’m also allowed to be so bored by almost all of these fics that I nearly fall asleep scrolling the AO3 feed.

And the frustrating thing is, it would take so little to make it different. All it would take is asking: what if it wasn’t that simple? What if his parents aren’t all bad? What if they’re trying their best, but aren’t able for whatever reason to care for Max the way he needs to be? (I’m thinking Deja’s mom from This Is Us, for a cool example.) What if they later come to regret whatever behavior is making them so sucky, and reconcile in some fashion with their son? What if David and/or Max have fundamentally misread the situation, due to being on the outside and a kid, respectively, and it turns out his parents are actually making the best decisions they can in this situation and David doesn’t need to literally become Max’s dad, but integrates into the family in another way? (Seriously, even “what if they’re dead instead of evil?” would blow my mind in terms of originality. It’s been done, but not nearly enough.)

So that’s the overdone thing out of the way. What about lazy and boring?

It just seems to me that, based on the evidence we’ve been given in the show, there are infinitely more nuanced and creative alternatives to “Max’s parents are canonically abusive and neglectful and deserve to have their child ripped away from them by the guy who sees him at his job like 2-3 months out of the year.” I, in fact, refuse to believe Max’s parents are bad people based on the current evidence, and won’t do so unless canon forces me to see no other option.

Because as of right now, I just don’t buy it.

Didn’t show up to Parents’ Day: Well, we know they immigrated from India to escape “menial labor” (S1E4), and we know capitalism stomps all over the kind of people stuck doing menial labor, so what if they were unable to get away from work or they’d be fired? Hell, what if they couldn’t afford it for whatever reason – car broke down, they don’t have a phone or were out of data, they got hurt or sick or something came up that was interpreted by a small child as a lack of interest because he’s been shown that he doesn’t fully understand either adults’ motivations (all of S1) or the complexities of living in adult society, though he thinks he does (S1E4)?

Didn’t give him an activity: What if their grasp of English isn’t great? It’s a damn hard language to learn, and I sure as hell couldn’t pick up a second language if I was working to the bone to support my family. I’m exhausted trying to get through my 5 minutes of French on Duolingo, and I have a relatively cushy job and the benefit of an owl harassing me every few hours. Maybe they looked at the absurd camp activities and assumed they were misreading something, so they handed it over to their son (who is clearly fluent) to pick something he likes. Maybe they wanted to give him some responsibility and a sense of autonomy in deciding what he wanted to do for the summer, and he was so annoyed at being sent off to camp that he refused to do it and interpreted their hands-off nature as not caring. Maybe they were tired and just told him to pick something and it’s as simple as that, because parents are allowed to be exhausted sometimes. Just strikes me as pretty bizarre that they’d bother sending their son to a summer camp (and those things aren’t cheap, even one as not-awesome as Camp Campbell) but not be invested enough to give him the activity. Saving all year to scrape together enough money for a summer camp, sure, but filling out one line on a piece of paper? Pfft, who has time for that bullshit?

(I recognize that assuming they’re poor based on a single line about “menial labor” might seem like a bit of a stretch to some people. But honestly, to me it’s no more of a stretch than assuming that they hate or don’t care about their son, or any of the other wild theories thrown around about Max’s parents all the dang time. At least this one is relatively new.)

Sent him a sweatshirt and a short note: Again, maybe their written English isn’t great. Some people are better at a spoken language than a written one. Or maybe they didn’t have enough time to write a long note, or they knew Max wouldn’t read it (he doesn’t seem like the type to be all that into long emotional letters). Regardless, they knew to send him something he’d like that would likely be worn down by constant wear at camp. And sweatshirts aren’t cheap. Neither is mailing a package. Just seems like a surprising amount of effort to go to if they don’t care about or love him.

Sent him to Camp Campbell for the summer: Let’s say they’re poor, based on the evidence we have. It makes sense to assume that they work relatively “unskilled” jobs, or are in school, or both. Because those jobs don’t offer benefits or a lot of money, we can also reasonably assume that they either work multiple jobs, long hours, or both. They probably don’t have family in the area or even the country, and it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect neighbors or friends to take their son in all day, every day, all summer so he’s not home alone while they’re at work (especially considering he’s not all that easy to get along with). He’s familiar with the city (S3E11), so we can assume he’s grown up in an urban environment, which means he’s probably to some extent a latchkey kid. Sending him to a summer camp would get him out of the city, around people his own age, where he’d be supervised and kept busy while his parents are at work until school starts. Camps are expensive, but I imagine Camp Campbell might be the best they can afford, and they’d assume it’s better than him sitting in an empty apartment all day.

Max’s insistence they don’t care: He’s … ten years old. Not only has he made it clear that he assumes the worst of most people, including adults, but it’s also relatively common for kids whose parents worked a lot while they were growing up to interpret that busyness as a lack of interest in them. It’s hard to understand things like expenses or financial security as a kid and view it as “my parents are never around and so they don’t love me.” Hopefully when he’s older he’d appreciate everything they’ve sacrificed for him, but at 10 years old it’s expected he’d feel neglected.

I’m just saying, maybe a borderline emotionally unstable child isn’t the most reliable source, is all.

This isn’t rock solid, I realize; I’ve made a lot of leaps of logic and assumptions extrapolating from what we’ve been given. But I don’t see it as any less plausible than his parents hating him or whatever the prevailing fan theories are, and more importantly: it’s a fuck of a lot more interesting (yes, yes, in my opinion). I think adding nuance and sympathy to Max’s parents will always end up more interesting than “good David vs evil parents.”

Of course, we’re in a bit of a limbo since we don’t know necessarily where RT is going to take this. There is every chance they’re going to drop the bomb that Max’s parents are literally as bad as everyone has made them out to be – and worse. Maybe they’re actually Xemug. Fuck if I know. And if that happens, I’m gonna call it out for being the cheapest and least-interesting of the possible options. Bad, lazy writing that pits pure good against pure evil is always gonna suck, even if it comes from the writers of one of my favorite shows.

I really, really hope they don’t go with that (to finally, I guess, answer Anon’s question fully). And I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to things people hate CC for: Dolph doesn’t bother me, most of the problematic episodes don’t bother me (that pee one is still pretty rough though), but if they go the “Max’s parents are the devil and that is why Max is the way he is” route, I’m gonna … well, just be so profoundly disappointed that the showrunners could’ve done something interesting and decided instead to go for the lowest-hanging fruit, that’s all.

FINALLY:

3. This Fucking Fandom

So here’s the thing. Dad//vid is unique among the “ships” in the fandom in that it is deliberately placed as “the anti-Max//vid.” And I understand why that was done, and I appreciate it holding up that particular vanguard; max//vid has no place in dad//vid, and vice versa.

But the problem with dad//vid being set up as the not-max//vid is that everything that isn’t dad//vid is suddenly viewed as “max//vid-lite.” Even when that makes literally zero sense.

See, even when I was briefly into dad//vid in its very literal “David adopts Max from Max’s evil parents” form, what I was really drawn to was the idea of David being Max’s older brother. Back when the fandom was like 100 fics on AO3, I had started planning out this long plot involving David taking on a brotherly role to this kid I thought really needed one. Admittedly I’m just a sucker for sibling relationships, but from the beginning I’ve been all about this brotherly bond, and so when a popular artist came up with the term “bro//vid” and it started gaining traction, I was all over that noise. There was finally a version of this relationship that wasn’t either “Max and David fucking” or “David literally adopts Max and becomes his literal father,” and I couldn’t be more excited.

And then … I found out that apparently “bro//vid” was becoming synonymous with “max//vid but secretly.” And … man, it really sucked to suddenly be treated like I was supporting pedophilia because I didn’t like the idea of David-adopts-Max as much as the whole big brother thing. I can’t even imagine how much it must suck if your favorite iteration of Max and David is something along the lines of mentor/friendship, without some sort of buffer of “well they’re basically (or literally) related.” Because if “these two as brothers” is max//vid-lite, then I can’t fucking imagine what that would be called.

And even when it’s not specifically about max//vid, it just keeps cropping up. I posted about the Season 4 premiere and expressed how much I saw a cute, brotherly relationship between David and Max, and someone immediately replied saying that they thought it was more like father-son. Which … yeah, fine, I don’t care if you see it like father-son, go nuts, but I am getting really sick of the fact that father-son is the only acceptable “ship” and everything must lean in that direction, no exceptions. (I know, it’s not a ship technically, but I don’t know what else to call it. Don’t read anything weird into me calling it that.)

I don’t think “please just let me enjoy these two and their relationship dynamic without making it pedophilia or insisting David adopt Max from his terrible evil parents” is that tough an ask.

Or at least, it really shouldn’t be. But somehow it … kind of is.

And that sucks.

(Also, I hate the whole “Max is David’s favorite camper” thing. It’s not technically tied to dad//vid, but it does often come hand-in-hand with that and it just irks me to no end. If David has such blatant favorites, he is terrible at his job and kind of a douchebag. I think he gravitates towards the camper(s) who need attention the most, because he likes feeling like he’s made a difference, but I don’t think David would just straight-up pick a favorite like that, not when he has a full camp of kids who need him. Just saying.)

#in which i rant a lot #campcamp #Anonymous #i am very sorry anon #and others #if you read all of this i will give you a cookie #if it made you think i will give you a hug

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dragimal · 4 years

Text

ok this is like. MAJORLY self-indulgent, self-psychoanalyzing rambling so I’m putting it under a readmore, but my thoughts have been spinning in circles over this for like. practically my whole teen/adult life. and I just need to put it down somewhere

idc if anyone wants to read this or respond or anything, again I’m just basically trying to vomit out my thoughts until something makes sense

so like. anxiety. I know I have it, that’s the ONE Problems Disorder I’m 100% certain I’ve got, to whatever degree it matters

but that’s kinda the thing-- to WHAT degree, and DOES that matter? at what point can I say it’s a legitimate part of me, and at what point is it something negligible and unobtrusive?

b/c here’s the other thing-- anxiety is, in fact, a strong aspect of my self-image. it’s something I associate strongly with as a character trait, and I tend to relate to ‘meek’ characters

I know part of it is a defense mechanism. I had to make myself small, being raised by my mom. she’s a whole other rant, but essentially she’s a very defensively prideful person, and any attempt to steer a conversation towards your own accomplishments/needs/interests is met with a blank look and a swift topic change back to herself. (and god forbid u bring up her faults, that would guarantee manipulative guilt-tripping at best, screaming and crying at worst)

but there’s also another convoluted level to this defense mechanism. I recognized at a young age, on some subconscious level, that pride was/is my mom’s greatest downfall. so I internalized that as, “pride (and even more broadly, confidence) is bad and and a danger to those around you”

not to be Homestuck on main, but Dave’s first conversation with Dirk struck me on a level of personal experience that few other pieces of media have ever hit, particularly this bit

obviously the physical aspect of this abuse is beyond me, but the emotional manipulation, and Bro subsequently ruining a generally positive concept (the concept of heroism, in his case) hits incredibly close to home

my mom exuded confidence and always told me that confidence in myself over all else would save me, but she ultimately ruined confidence for me. I know there will always be this underlying thread of fear that if I’m not afraid-- that if I allow myself confidence-- that I will become like her. that I’ll hurt people with my pride

now this is all shit that I’ve known abt myself for a long time, and I know I’ve even mentioned some of this in passing before. but here’s what’s fucking me up nowadays: what happens when you cling to anxiety like this? what happens when you craft a disorder into your personality? where does subconscious reaction end and deliberate masking begin?

b/c here’s the other thing: I don’t truly hate myself. not rly-- not on the level I would say is dangerous or clinical. some of it may very well be real, but I definitely play it up. like play-acting at under-confidence

and it’s not like I don’t have pride either. I have tons of pride for various things I do or accomplish, namely academic studies, crafting/art, and just like working standards in general. when I can eloquently describe/argue my point, or accurately craft something to my inner image, I feel very real pride

but pride hurts. I feel pride, but equal to that is the shame I feel at feeling pride in the first place. it’s genuinely painful at times to accept a compliment without argument NOT because I necessarily disagree (tho there are definitely times where I DO actually disagree), but to accept a compliment is to admit I have pride in the thing being complimented, and THAT is unacceptable

and it’s not like my fear is unfounded either. I’ve hurt ppl w/ my pride before-- and this isn’t my anxiety making me self-critical, I KNOW this for a FACT. it simply comes with the territory of all that “gifted child” bullshit in school. yeah I was one of those. thankfully not a very outspoken student (the anxiety in my younger days was a lot more real and visceral), but I do still distinctly remember moments where my academic pride gave me an... inflated sense of presence over those that didn’t get the material, I guess u could say

I know there were times I made ppl feel small, due to my pride. hell, times I got overly, fearfully defensive of my knowledge or artistic skill to the point of talking over others and making them feel stupid. no one deserves to feel small, and it fucking tears me up to know that I did that to ppl. that I still knee-jerk react in that way sometimes, even now, and it still slips out

and isn’t that just proof that I can’t appropriately handle pride? that I’m not mature enough for confidence?

and it’s not even all about making myself small for others’ sake. half of it is this incredibly selfish knowledge that not living up to my own standards will fucking kill me if I let it

I feel like every ‘gifted kid’ experiences a chain events that starts at, “wow I’m so smart, I’m great at every subject!” and ends at, “christ I’m fucking garbage at literally everything.” we’re taught that success is in being able to do something well the first time (or at least quickly and with little effort), so if we’re not immediately good at something, we shut down b/c we were never taught that success is actually in the effort at the task

this has been talked to death by others so I don’t want to bother w/ it too long, but the critical thing to note is that there’s there’s this eventual sense of defeat in everything you do, when ur brought up w/ this mindset

I used to be somewhat competitive in certain things when I was younger-- the rare sports I played when I was RLY young, academics obviously, etc. or at least, competitive with my own personal standards, if not necessarily against other ppl. but every failure and mistake made me so upset that the angst was like. genuinely dangerous to my health

I used to play golf on a team in middle school, and every time I whiffed it I would get SO angry at myself that my dad literally told me that that level of upset would kill me someday and that I rly needed to stop

so I took that to heart and just. stopped caring

every time I whiffed it after that point, I was just like, “ah, well, what can ya do ¯|_(ツ)_/¯ ” this attitude definitely lowered my blood pressure, but it also rly killed my motivation to like... improve. b/c the thought of even trying to improve brought up all these feelings abt trying to meet my own standards of success, and how much it would hurt to fail

when u don’t set any standards u gotta meet, then when u fail u don’t rly fail, y’know? “well I didn’t even try, so it’s actually fine”

obviously I couldn’t give less of a shit abt golf anymore, but sometimes I wonder if my cold-turkey drop in confidence played a part in killing the interest itself? I know that sports and physical activity were never rly my thing in the first place, but did I perhaps give up so hard that I convinced myself that I didn’t even like those things in the first place?

I know it happened w/ academics at least: start to struggle with math? now I hate math. chemistry? that sucks too. etc etc

I kinda side-tracked here w/ all the talk of ‘gifted kid’ stuff, my point is that I have a vested interest in humbling myself-- to actively craft the persona of a meek, humble person

and I’ve been wondering if that, in and of itself, is manipulative. like, is it manipulative to let others think I rly lack THAT much in self-confidence? that I rly hate myself that much?

it certainly feels that way when I knee-jerk reject a compliment abt something I do, in fact, feel pride in-- when the shame at that pride is too much. but my friends don’t know it’s that reactive shame-- they think it’s that I rly don’t have confidence in that thing

but god, how do I even explain this fucking tangled, convoluted bullshit over my reaction to compliments? that I have to be small or I’ll hurt someone? that I do feel pride, and that’s the problem? what does that even MEAN to someone outside my own head??

and that’s not even to get into whether that manipulation is like, actually some subconscious tactic to get MORE compliments! am I fishing? when I make a post like this, am I actually just fishing for more compliments? is that what I’m doing??

I feel like I’m running in circles here, nipping at my own goddamned heels abt pride and shame and what is real and acting and does it even matter if nobody gets hurt?

do people get hurt? ppl get hurt when I allow myself pride, it’s happened before. but now I’m realizing that my self-hate may hurt ppl too-- my self-deprecation often goes too far, and it hurts the ppl who care abt me

how do I explain that self-deprecation is safe? a shield to hold back my pride? hell, it’s more accurate to say it’s a safe way to EXPRESS my pride in a way that ppl don’t detect. I acknowledge my faults, and if I frame it in a socially-acceptably comedic way, I get the pride of making someone laugh! it’s SAFE pride!

but is it? but is it, when it hurts ppl to hear me self-hate?

is there any way to feel pride safely?

I’ve never thought of myself as an actor, or as someone who can lie well (or at all). but can I lie, when I also believe the lie? is it a lie that I have anxiety? that I hate myself? that I have no confidence?

how much of me is real? how much does that hurt others? how do I carve out the parts of me that hurt others how do I make myself smaller in ways that are genuine and lasting and don’t hurt people??

I want to be small. I like being small. but am I small? or am I playing at being small?

I don’t know. I don’t know.

(cashing in on that safe comedic validation babeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy)

#long post #shut up ashley #also @ my friends who may read this:#if it feels like I'm vagueing I'm not like. trying to do that #it's just genuinely easier for me to lay this out in an open format #rather than bring it up in a conversation #I have no idea what the FUCK I'm talking abt right now

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dragonroyaly · 5 years

Note

Alright, I'll bite. Tell me about your new MID AU.

WHY THANK YOU FOR ASKING ANON!

Quick heads up though: Death warning. I don’t usually make only fluffy AUs and this is not one of them. Proceed with caution.

Okay so like there’s a bunch of shit going on in this AU and I’m not exactly sure where the best point to start is so let’s start with Pierce.

I like the idea that the Daemos have little elements, so I decided to take a swing at that too. And I swung and Pierce ended up being like a grim reaper sort of dude, becuase who better for that role than the gentle giant.

He can see ghosts like they were actual people, and he can kinda sense when who he’s seeing is dead or not, but with the magic crisis and all the ‘Sense Death’ ability is dulling as the magic drains.

He tries to help ghosts move on to the afterlife the best he can while still doing his job, he really does care about this as the Grim type of Daemos are super rare and usually ghosts can’t really move on without help, but also being Asch’s guard or whatever he does interferes with that a great deal

So, cannon shit happens, y’all know the drill, and in comes Rileigh.

Rileigh is an OC, Ava’s twin brother, and very dead.

And in comes Ava’s part of the story. I keep giving characters tragic backstories becuase I’m That Bitch, I guess, and Ava’s Tragic Backstory is the kinda cliche ‘Dad was just Gone, mom never talked about him, mom was also highly abusive’ shit, y’all know the drill.

Cut to a couple years later, their mom either dies from like alcohol poisoning or she gets caught or something, I actually haven’t thought that part through, she just can’t take care of them anymore one way or another.

So, Andrew and Devon adopt them, both are really Really nervous because as previously mentioned their mom Was Not Nice and they hoped there was such thing as good parenting but also they were like eleven at the time and hadn’t been shown kindness by like Anyone before.

And Andrew and Devon were really great dads! They loved Ava and Rileigh so much! They knew their mom hadn’t been the best and they’d be wary of them one way or another but like the underestimated how bad that’d be.

A thing about their mom, she was usually all-around bad but sometimes thing got real good for a couple days, maybe a couple weeks, she would spoil Ava and Rileigh and be really nice but then things got really really REALLY bad and Ava and Rileigh decided next time that happens they’re just gonna end it.

So, using their not-too-smart and very traumatized eleven-year-old brains, they decided that Andrew and Devon would eventually turn out like their mom did and tried to kill themselves by overdosing on some pills they found.

And Rileigh did. But Ava didn’t. So Rileigh just decides he wants to see Ava safe and followed her around as a ghost, he’d move on when Ava died and he’d be with her in the afterlife.

Fast forward to cannon events, Rileigh’s still following Ava around, Pierce can still see ghosts, and eventually figured out Rileigh was a ghost.

So, Pierce does what he does, tries to see what Rileigh wants so he can peacefully move on. Rileigh isn’t having any of that, and Pierce can’t even meet his requests becuase he’s just like “I’ll move on when Ava moves on.” “But Ava’s still alive. I’m not going to kill her.” “Exactly.”.

Rileigh is happy that someone can see him, and Pierce doesn’t really have anything better to do, so sometimes they’ll just stay up and chat. Usually in the livingroom in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep.

Anywho back to Ava for a bit.

I have trouble seeing a world with magic where people aren’t able to sense if others have magic or not, even if it’s more dulled than others are, so the Daemos would be able to tell Ava’s completely bullshitting it after a while.

So, I do the logical thing and I give Ava magic. Extremely powerful magic. And the Daemos know. Ava does not. She used to think she might have superpowers because in moments where she wasn’t completely there, like her being sick, or just waking up, or extremely zoned out, she swore she could levitate things or fly or freeze things, set them on fire, grow plants faster, stuff like that, but eventually chalked it up to her having an overactive imagination.

So, another thing, Ava has a lot of magic, easily enough to fuel Daemos for another century at least, but it’s all kinda just trapped inside her body and whatever the Daemos are sensing is a very dulled version of her true power. If Ava gets a scratch or something, more magic would come out.

So, one day they’re all just kinda la-dee-da-ing around the apartment, the boys are hanging out in the livingroom, Ava’s in the kitchen making soup or something, chopping carrots, and she accidentally nicks her finger becuase she has the hand-eye cordiation of a blind goose.

Cue all of the boys kinda just freezing in shock because it doesn’t matter if you have hyper magic sensing (Rhys) or dull magic sensing (Noi), that’s more magic than they’ve felt in their lives.

All from a tiny scratch. And Ava’s just like ‘Ow yikes gotta go get a mcfricken band-aid’ and all the boys are just. Staring. Becuase they knew she was powerful but not to this degree.

Rileigh, still very ghostly, is kinda there, witnessing their shock like ‘??? What’s going on? Yo Pierce you wanna explain this shit? Is it the smell of blood, are y’all like vampires or something??’

Needless to say the Daemos are very careful around Ava from then on becuase she could probably blink at them and kill them instantly. Though she didn’t know that.

Rileigh learns what happens, laughs, continues to have a mini existential crisis becuase holy shit would he have had that much magic??

Fast forwards a couple months. The Boys have now been gone on Daemos for like two years and no one can get to them becuase there’s no longer enough magic left to open a portal to Earth. I am estimating on the time here go easy on me.

Pierce has gotten himself into a bit of a sticky situation. He has. The biggest fucking crush on Rileigh. Cue a couple internal crisises or whatever the plural of that word is, asking Ava what love felt like because all of the boys are stupid with emotions and Pierce is no different, Ava very loudly responding “BABY DON’T HURT ME” as a knee-jerk reaction to Pierce asking ‘What is love’ and a very quick run-down on memes.

This is also where my now commonly used line “I mean you do you but I have questions” comes from. “So how would y’all react if I said I had a crush on Ava’s dead brother” Pierce says. “I mean you do you but I have questions.” Asch says.

Ava is also aware she has magic now, and very strong magic at that. Still can’t use it for shit. Has made books go flying straight out the window when she tried to lift them with her telekinesis or whatever.

Fast forwards another little bit, Rileigh also has a crush on Pierce, tells him becuase he’s not a fucking coward and also knows emotions and shit.

Quick note, I know Daemos don’t do human shit but like kissing is a thing on Daemos becuase I fucking said so. They also tap horns together but like irrelevant.

So, Pierce, due to the nature of his magic and me being a cliche bitch, if he kisses someone they’ll straight-up die. He knows this from experience and swore off love after that.

So back to the scene, Rileigh and Pierce kiss, which would’ve looked hella weird if you couldn’t see ghosts but Pierce made sure that literally no one else was in the same room as them when he and Rileigh talked.

Pierce describes this as quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to him and kissing Rileigh feels like heaven.

And guess what happens next?

It takes a hot minute but eventually Pierce is like ‘Wait a sec Rileigh isn’t giving me dead people vibes anymore what’s up with that’ and both kinda freak out when they realize apparently that legit brought Rileigh back to life.

Cue Rileigh yelling becuase no one could hear him for the past like twelve odd years so he got a little used to just Shouting when he wanted to, and he woke Ava up.

Ava who was VERY surprised to see her previously dead brother (Who now looked her age because if one twin dies and the other doesn’t and the dead twin doesn’t move on they’ll continue to age like nothing happened), Pierce being caught in the middle of this kinda just stuck with the surprised Pikachu face, Rileigh who’s feeling Hella Hyper and Happy becuase he’s alive and also Pierce fucking kissed him.

There were tears. Ava cried and clung onto Rileigh. Rileigh also cried. Pierce was just sitting on the couch for all of it wondering what the hell he should do. At some point the other boys come out and are collectively like ‘WHO FUCK THE IS THIS BITCH??’ And Pierce has to explain the whole thing in detail becuase Ava and Rileigh are too caught up in their little ‘Holy shit you’re alive’ ‘HOLY SHIT I’M ALIVE’ thing.

Cut to like a week later, everything’s perfect, Rileigh’s alive, Pierce has gotten himself an entire boyfriend (That he can kiss and stuff without killing!), Ava finally got a mcfricken job. Andrew and Devon don’t know about any of this becuase that’d mean explaining even more stuff to them that Ava’s not sure she can do without getting a headache.

Asch suddenly realizes “WAIT SHIT WE’RE SUPPOSED TO GET MAGIC BACK TO DAEMOS SHIT” So after Ava gets home they have to do that.

And they fuckin do that, just open a portal in the middle of the livingroom and go through. They didn’t exactly have a plan, just take a bit of Ava’s magic, she has enough of it to fuel that entire dimension for ages, as previously mentioned, and with Rileigh in the mix, who does in fact have magic like Ava does, there should be a peaceful way to solve this, right?

They did not get to explain the plan fully before The Daemos are like “So like if we kill The Magic Princess we’ll never have to worry about magic and right? Right. Okay bye we’re gonna go publicly murder her now.” And dragged a very confused and panicked Ava away before any of them can react.

I should say during this whole thing Rileigh was not immediately present. He was out getting groceries or something, I don’t know.

The Boys forget they can like rebel against the kingdom or go after them and explain that you don’t need to kill her you idiots just take like a teaspoon of blood and we’ll be fine for decades but you know how Daemos are. Only using their Violence Brain and all.

It takes Rileigh getting home with Lorelai in tow, he ran into her at some point and she was like “Hey you look like Ava!!” and Rileigh being like “Oh yeah I’m her twin!!” an Lorelai being herself and he ends up bringing her home with him to hang out or something.

Rileigh finds the portal and all there and is frozen like “What the fuck??!?! THEY’RE GONNA KILL HER??? NO???” And the boys still don’t remember they can just save Ava and go fuck off to her apartment for like until they die.

Lorelai, understandably, completely snaps and goes rushing into the castle or whatever because portal landed like right outside of Asch’s room, grabs two swords off the wall, like, you know those displays?

So it’s just Elizabeth’s fight scene from Black Butler but Lorelai and Daemos guards and Lorelai just guessing off of where Ava’s screaming is coming from.

The Boys finally fucking remember this does not have to end with Ava dying, which was pointed out to them by Lorelai, who is completely human with absolutely no magic whatsoever, and not built for fighting whatsoever, her just rushing in without a second thought, and also Rileigh, who screamed at them and kicked Asch in the head.

So they follow the trail of dead bodies Lorelai’s leaving behind and Ava’s screaming and end up looking at where there’s already a crowd, Ava’s about to be killed, Lorelai’s not close enough to save her, Asch fireballs whoever was about to kill her the fuck away.

At this point, Ava had just about complete shut down, just zoned out due to panic, so she was just kinda sitting there in front of the shocked audience who by this point had been like ‘Wait we were running out of magic? Wait killing her will give us like unlimited magic? WAIT THE PRINCE JUST KILLED A FUCKING GUARD WHO IS THIS LADY??’

So after like five minutes the boys and Lorelai and Rileigh are all surrounding Ava and trying to protect her and then.

And then the goddamn king shows up.

The king, very feared, Asch’s father, Rhal’s too but like Rhal had been backed into a corner due to Lorelai being Angerey so he wasn’t present for any of this.

And everything just seems to freeze. The crowd, the guards, Asch and Co’, Ava was still zoned out, Rileigh was clinging onto Ava, and everyone was staring at the king.

He takes about the same stance as everyone else like ‘So spilling this lady’s blood will give us unlimited magic? Sounds good to me if y’all aren’t going to kill her I’ll do it myself.’ but like logically more threatening sounding than that but like before he can do anything Ava kinda half zones back and looks up at him.

Now, here’s why Ava and Rileigh have magic and Daemos doesn’t.

Daemos had gods, very powerful gods, but eventually they all got tired and fled to different dimensions. The gods were fueling everyone’s magic, the followers of certain gods got certain powers, y’all get it.

So, eventually, there was just this one god left, right, the main dude who was the only one fueling anyone’s magic anymore.

He got tired, and he got lonely, so he gave the rest of his followers magic power and fled to earth. The King, who was his most loyal follower, got the highest amount of magic. Please note that The King was a total nobody before this. Didn’t even have magic. Why is Asch like that then? His mother, obviously.

The God went on to fall in love with Ava and Rileigh’s mother, and, surprise surprise, is Ava and Rileigh’s father. And even before all the other gods just left and dumped their duties onto him, he was still the most powerful. So that’s why Ava and Rileigh are so damn jam-packed with magic, they’re demi-gods.

Ava, who is still mostly zoned out but some deep dark part of her definitely recognizes this dude’s magic is the same as hers.

So she’s like “You have my magic, that you don’t deserve. Give it back.” In like the Irene voice or whatever and she stands up and looks at The King and please be aware she is zoned-out during this entire thing.

The King, who can also sense the same magic he has in Ava but definitely stronger, but is an idiot, goes ‘No, you will give me, me and the rest of Daemos your magic.’

And Ava’s like ‘Then if you will not give me my magic back willingly, I will take it back by force’ and straight-up absorbs this dude’s magic leaving him completely powerless and then both The King and Ava pass the fuck out. Rileigh absorbs half the magic Ava absorbed from The King becuase she couldn’t take all of it on her own and still be stable since like he tainted it or whatever. Daemos were not meant to handle magic, humans were.

So like no one knows what’s going on becuase both The King and Ava are unconscious and everyone’s still trying to handle the shock of the whole event and Lorelai never really snapped back out of Fight Brain.

After a moment, Leif just scratches Ava’s arm enough to bleed a little bit which, as I’ve said, is enough to fuel the dimension for like a solid year or so human time, and then they all run back to Earth and close the portal before anyone can get mad at them.

Ava wakes up after a bit, has one hell of a fever since The King had tainted the magic she had just absorbed and that was Not Fun, but they explain everything to her after the whole sick event after now like once a year Ava has to give up a tiny bit of blood to keep Daemos running happily and The Boys live on Earth becuase they like it there and Pierce has Rileigh and they’re all happy.

There’s a whole other disaster when Andrew and Devon find out about all of this because Ava’s just decided it’s not worth lying about. She wasn’t even sure how she’d explain Rileigh.

“RILEIGH’S ALIVE??”

“Shit dude yeah he sure is. Hey he’s got a boyfriend too, did you know that?”

“RILEIGH’S ALIVE AND HE HAS A- WHAT?!”

“Yeah, Pierce brought him back to life through the power of love or some shit. Hey did y’all know me and Rileigh are demigods?”

And at that point they’re just kinda staring in complete shock.

Lorelai always goes back to Daemos for their yearly teaspoon of blood sacrifice as Ava’s personal guard. Ava did not ask for this. No one asked for this. Lorelai is feared throughout Daemos due to the whole Elizabeth Fight Scene stunt she pulled. She low-key enjoys seeing people this scared of her. She is aware this is a problem.

Anywho this AU was like a lot more detailed than I previously thought, but it’s fun being able to talk about this. If anyone has anymore questions like specifically or as like a suggestion for this AU let me know!

#I Was Asked Shit #How did I come up with any of this? Flow Free and music and my overactive imagination!#I also have another AU I might mush into this one where one of Ava's dads was in the mafia but like #Might not do that #Aphmau #My Inner Demons #I don't actually remember how Rileigh specifically came to be but hell I love him

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 5 years

Text

Caught Up In You

Chapter 1 - Hop To It

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

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

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

Word Count: 9,774

{Tuesday Night}

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t make this into a fit, Tony.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He started to walk off, Natasha following close behind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To see movies. I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, your allusive boyfriend.” Tony mumbled.

“Don’t start with me, Stark.”

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

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

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

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

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

{Wednesday Morning}

“-I told him to fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tony, I’m sure he was just shocked.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He quickly made his way to the library.

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

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

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

“Hey-”

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

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

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

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

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

“So, about that phone number-”

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

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

This was fine.

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

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

He deflated. “No.”

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

Thor shrugged and that was answer enough.

“How long have you known him Thor?”

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

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

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

“Am I just freaking you out now?”

“No....”

She stared him down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I forgot the good news!”

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

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

“What’s her name?”

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

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

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

Valkyrie sped up but he only chased her down again.

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

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

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

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

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

{Friday Night}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Has he said anything about me?”

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

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

Steve sighed and rubbed his palm down to his chin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would and you know it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony snorted but he ignored it.

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony only gave him a pleading look.

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

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

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

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

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

“Boys!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

{Monday Morning}

“I honestly just don’t get it.”

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

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

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

Thor grinned impossibly wide. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ooooh, what is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, of course. Don’t you think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

“He does?”

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

“I dunno, Thor-”

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

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

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

{Monday Night}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut-up, Tony.”

“I haven’t even said anything.”

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

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

Bucky growled. “Stop talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Thor?’

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

“Stark!” Thor tipped his chin in greeting.

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

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

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

Thor used to just talk to everybody.

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

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

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

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

“We’re on a date!”

Tony nearly choked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn’t I know this?”

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

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

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

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

Bruce shrugged. “How are you doing?”

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

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

“Enjoy your date.”

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

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

Life sucked.

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