#the flash is super annoying i had to remove some frames

[farfromharry]

The one with Washington | Peter’s girl

Summary: You head to Washington with your team for the academic decathlon, however it takes a turn at the Washington monument

Word Count - 3246

Warnings - language probably, i can’t remember anything else

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You were looking forward to the trip with your peers to Washington. Granted it was for academics but you’d never been to Washington and you were excited to share that experience with your friends.

“Do you really have to go on a mission right now Pete?”

His eyes widened, the male shushing you urgently, turning more heads towards you than your actual comment. He looked around the bus nervously, hoping no one had managed to hear what you said.

“Keep it down.”

You were slightly regretting letting Peter sit with you for the bus ride. You were originally going to sit on your own to do some last minute practice by yourself, but having sat close to the back of the bus where no one else was you managed to attract Peter, who needed to answer a call from Happy, and now here you were.

“I have to catch these guys Y/N, they’re dangerous,” he explained. You sighed, growing concerned again for Peter’s safety, something you felt like you were having to do far too often nowadays.

“That’s the point Pete, what if-“ He cut you off before you could say the words he’d heard you say too many times by this point.

“I have super healing Y/N, it doesn’t matter.” He had to cover your mouth with his hand when he saw you go to speak up, sending you a stern glare. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

You rolled your eyes, slouching against your seat as you gave up trying to convince him otherwise, he was surprisingly stubborn for a boy that got nervous at everything.

Once he knew you weren’t going to jump in again, he removed his hand from your mouth, setting it back down in his lap.

“You’re going to make it to the competition though, right?” you asked. Peter expected you to have at least a little more faith in him.

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah of course, stop worrying so much.” You flashed him a forced smile, asking him to go over some practice questions with you for the rest of the ride.

Upon arriving at the hotel you obviously chose to share a room with Mj, getting the go from your teacher to head up there to put your stuff away.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” she said, already climbing under the covers of one of the twin beds. You nodded your head, wishing her a goodnight. In order to not disturb her you decided to head out to Ned and Peter’s room which was just down the hall and say goodbye to Peter before he left for his solo mission.

You knocked on the door, a nervous looking Peter pulling it ajar to see who was there. As soon as he saw it was you he let out a sigh, telling Ned he could bring his computer back out.

“What are you doing?” you asked, taking a seat on the opposite bed where there wasn’t some kind of weird, glowy rock.

“Mr Stark put-“ Peter shot his best friend a glare, telling him to stop talking. You eyed the two curiously, tilting your head.

“Mr Stark what?”

“Nothing,” Peter said quickly, brushing it off nervously.

You raised your eyebrows at Ned, knowing he was most likely to crack first out of the two boys.

“Mr Stark put a training wheels protocol on Peter’s suit,” he blurted out. Peter went wide eyed, slapping his friend’s arm while you started to laugh. You didn’t even acknowledge the glare he was sending your way.

“Awe Peter, he thinks you’re a baby.”

He ignored both of you as you made comments making fun of him, focusing on taking the tracker out of his suit. Your laughter eventually died down and you laid back on the bed to get more comfortable. You asked a few questions here and there about what they were doing, about the scary rock that you learned was something to do with aliens, not that that information made it any less scary, and eventually you ran out of stuff to ask them.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting that you’d been there a few hours already, and Mj should probably be awake from her nap by now.

“Well,” you announced, standing up from where you’d been laying down. “I’m gonna go see what Mjs doing,” you said.

You wrapped your arms around Peter’s shoulder from behind and squeezed him tightly, the position slightly awkward seeing as he was still laying down. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times but-“

He grinned, cutting you off. “Be careful, I know.”

You flicked your index finger against the back of his head, scolding him for finding your concern for his safety funny.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, be back in time Parker.” He fake saluted you, making you giggle as you left the room. “Yes ma’am.”

“Bye Ned.”

You headed back to your own room where you suspected Mj was probably reading her book in bed, if she was awake. You entered the room with a small smile, noticing she was up and rummaging through her bag for something.

“Are you okay?” you asked. She startled, pressing her hand to her chest. She glared at you while you giggled at how easy she was to scare.

“Liz came and asked if we wanted to go swimming,” she explained. You nodded your head happily, moving over to your own bag to find the one-piece you’d packed for this occasion.

When you and Mj ran into Peter in the hall, in nothing but swimming costumes, you grew slightly nervous. Heck you were pretty much half naked in front of a boy, and that scared you to death, even if it was just Peter.

“Where are you guys going?”

“We’re going swimming, do you want to come?” You asked, trying to stop Mj tugging you to the pool for a second. You’d forgotten about the mission in complete honesty, you were just trying to be nice by inviting him. Peter gave you a look, silently reminding you that he was meant to be going on the mission now.

“I was just gonna go study a little, but thanks for the offer guys.” You nodded, turning back to Mj with a giggle as the two of you followed after your classmates. He watched you both go, a small smile gracing his lips seeing you both so happy.

When you got down to the pool you felt like a little girl heading to the beach, barely able to wait to get in. Mj however decided she was going to sit on the side, something that made you pout.

You swam to the edge of the pool she was at, resting your arms on the side to keep yourself afloat.

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“Is Peter really going to study?” she asked. You hid your nerves with a small laugh, shrugging your shoulders at the curly haired girl.

“How would I know?”

“I saw the look he gave you,” she said, softly. To Mj it looked like you and Peter were hiding something. She noticed you’d gotten a lot closer these past few weeks and she was scared you were either secretly dating, or had developed feelings for eachother.

And if she thought Peter and Liz would hurt, you and Peter would be a whole nother level of heartbreak for her.

You sighed, splashing some of the pool water on her. “I don’t know where he’s going.” Lie. “But he’s not here, so let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

She seemed hesitant, but you were still her best friend and for all she knew she was just being dramatic.

“Yeah, okay.” She got up from the chair she was on, placing her folded towel down in her spot. You whistled at her as your eyes raked over her frame, throwing compliments her way that made her all flustered.

“We’re playing chicken, d’you wanna join?” Flash asked. Normally when Flash asked you to do anything you’d say no in a heartbeat, but right now it didn’t seem like the worst idea. You looked at Mj with a shrug, muttering a ‘why not’.

“Teammates?” you asked, holding your fist in place for a fistbump.

She grinned, hitting your knuckles together. “Teammates.”

»»——⍟——««

Everyone was more or less annoyed with Peter for missing the competition, especially with no reason or even text from him to tell you so, but you weren’t going to let that put a damper on your fun, nor was anyone else.

The group of you had planned to celebrate by taking a tour of the Washington monument.

You were currently trying to convince Mj to come up with you, but the girl was insisting that she was happy to read her book by herself down on the ground.

You just rolled your eyes, feeling bad for abandoning her and leaving her all on her own.

“Do you want me to stay?” you asked, shielding your eyes from the scolding sun bearing down on you. She shook her head, telling you to go have fun. You left her there on the bench with her book and went and joined the rest of your team who were already heading inside the monument.

On the way up in the elevator you weren’t really listening to the woman, she didn’t sound too pleased or excited to be doing her job and it was rather hard to listen to, so you tuned her out and instead just looked around.

The last thing you expected was for the alien thingy in Ned’s pocket to spontaneously explode, a chorus of gasps filling the small space of the elevator.

“Ned, what’s happening?” you whisper-yelled, looking up at what looked like laser marks in the ceiling of the elevator.

“I-I don’t know.”

You wished you had stayed with Mj now, and she was on the ground thinking the exact same thing as she saw the explosion. When Spiderman ran past her she gasped, hearing his reassurances that he was going to save you all.

Your hand clinged to Ned’s jacket out of pure fear, a quiet squeal slipping past your lips when the elevator dropped again.

None of you knew how you were going to get out of this situation, despite what the woman had said, that elevator was most definitely not going to hold you all for long, so it was either find a way out or drop to the bottom of the monument, and it was a long way down.

Your heart stopped every time there was a slight movement in the metal cage, thinking that this was it, no way out but down. You were mentally scolding Peter for not being here, knowing if he was he might have been able to prevent this.

You watched as one by one people were hoisted out and put back onto the safe ground, and you could only wish that was currently you.

You and Ned both almost scoffed when Flash pushed his way to his turn, nudging Liz out of the way in the process, taking the now useless trophy with him. That was apparently the final straw for the elevator, the strings snapping like twigs as it began to plummet to the one place you didn’t want to be. You couldn’t hold Ned’s hand any tighter.

It eventually stopped with a rather harsh jolt, the four of you looking up and around in pure confusion.

“Are we dead?” Ned asked. You slapped his arm, shooting a scowl his way for the unnecessary comment.

“Don’t say that.”

You had never been so grateful to see the red and blue figure landing somewhere, even if it wasn’t the most graceful of landings, his back colliding with the solid floor. But nonetheless your heart started to beat again when you accepted the fact that Peter was here, and he was going to save you all.

“Okay, come on,” he instructed, using the fake accent so your teacher and Liz didn’t figure him out. In any other situation you might have found it amusing, but you were too on edge to even muster up a giggle.

Peter helped Ned out first, seeing as he was closest to the doors, with the help of the security guards that were working in the top of the monument.

You let Mr Harrington go next, because truthfully, just like Liz you were currently too scared to actually move. You were terrified that the floor beneath you was going to collapse any second, and you were thinking that Peter was too.

The male knew he wouldn’t be able to hold this for much longer. He could see the way his fabric covered feet were denting the metal and he was growing more and more panicked by the second.

When it was your turn to get out all you needed was a reassuring look from Peter. Just one that told you he wouldn’t let you fall.

He nervously shouted for you to hurry up, seeing that both you and Liz were still there all while he was losing his grip.

He reached out a gloved hand to help you get up the small gap to where Ned and one of the security guards were waiting for you, considering there wasn’t really anyone there inside the elevator who could give you a boost because the girl in there was basically frozen.

“Thank you,” you whispered, seeing Peter nod his head. The only person left in the elevator now was Liz, and you and Ned could both pretty much feel how nervous Peter was right now.

Not only was he saving her, but one wrong move could mean that was it, and he would never not blame himself if something happened to her.

Ned’s hand had found its way into yours for comfort, the two of you coaxing Liz to come forward and grab onto you both.

“Just a few more steps, you’re okay,” you muttered, stretching as much as you could.

You thought he’d done it, you thought he’d saved everyone. She stepped forward and reached for you but never seemed to make it to your hand properly. You felt her fingertips brush with yours for only a second before they were gone again.

Your eyes widened when the elevator dropped, Liz dropping with it. It was a tense few moments as she screamed, you and your other classmates watching in horror as she fell.

You all felt guilty, even though right now there was nothing you could do. Peter barely managed to catch her with one of his webs, and you could feel the relief radiating off of him even from where you were standing, knowing he had her and she was safe, and you knew that definitely calmed at least some part of him.

He tugged on the web until he was firmly holding her hand, guiding her to the ledge just past the elevator shaft.

You helped her back onto the ground, letting her wrap her arms around you out of fear. He looked in your direction, you and Ned flashing him a grateful smile.

Peter obviously had to get going if he was going to make it back to the hotel in time to not be suspected by anyone. So with a little nod that told him you would look after Liz, he was waving a goodbye and swinging his way out of there.

You rubbed the shaking girl’s back, whispering calming words to her to reassure her that she was okay now, all of you were okay thanks to Peter.

»»——⍟——««

Even on the bus home, hours later, Mj could tell you were still shaken up. Basically every one was. You insisted she sit with you this time, so she was now shuffling closer to you on your shared seat to wrap her arms around you tightly. You leaned your head on her shoulder, clinging to her arm with both of yours, sniffling quietly when she began to run her hand over your hair.

“Are you okay?” she whispered. You nodded your head, flickering your eyes up to hers with a soft smile. She saw right through that happy façade you put up, knowing that you were frightened.

She could tell you were running through all the different possibilities that would’ve happened if Spiderman hadn’t shown up, and all of them pretty much ended with you being dropped to the bottom of the high structure.

“Thank you.” She placed a friendly kiss on your forehead, letting you hold onto her as tightly as you needed to. She started a conversation with you to take your mind off it all, and as you laughed at her corny jokes you decided you truly were grateful that she was trying to help.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” she asked. You lifted your head up and nodded, taking the earbud she was holding out to you with a thank you.

You rested your head back on her shoulder as she picked a calming, but happy song to play on her playlist, the same playlist that you’d heard her use countless times when you were together.

Arriving back at Midtown was an amazing feeling for once in your life. You were off the bus almost faster than anyone, running to your mother’s arms where she cradled you against her.

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been so relieved to be holding her baby in her arms, safely. Your mother knew you better than anyone and she could feel the way your body shook as you clinged to her helplessly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, pressing multiple kisses to your temple.

“Me too.”

Your mother spent a few minutes talking to Mr Harrington about what happened on the trip, listening to his countless apologies about putting you in accidental danger.

You spotted Peter with his Aunt, a few metres away, preparing to leave, and you knew you couldn’t let him go without properly thanking him.

You quickly excused yourself and explained to your mother that you were just going to talk to the boy, before you had to weave your way through other parents and students to get to him.

He didn’t notice you at first, not until May nudged him and whispered his name.

He looked up in confusion, his features softening when he saw you standing there with tears brimming your eyes. He opened his arms for you, letting you initiate the hug.

“Thank you,” you cried, practically tackling Peter in a hug. His hand rubbed up and down your back, his other hand holding the back of your head as it tucked into his neck.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he cooed.

May smiled at the two of you, thinking the hug was just some kind of ‘thank god we’re alive’ sort of moment, not a ‘you’re the reason i’m alive’ situation.

“Mj sweetheart, are you ready to go?” She gave one last look to the way you were clinging to Peter, the way he held you and whispered in your ear.

“Yeah, we can go.”

You let go of Peter once your tears had come to a slow stop, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie. He shot you a comforting smile, squeezing your arm.

“Thank you again,” You took a leap of faith and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as a thank you, noticing the way he flushed red. “Spiderman.”

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peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @gog0juice @minejungwoo @creatorofthegalaxy @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @bvttercupbby @peterswebshooters @whoeveniskendall @itsallyscorner @hoodpankow @sunwardsss

#peter’s girl #tom holland #peter parker series #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker

[blankdblank]

Poke Pt 10 - Poker Face

…

All in swift succession a wedding and a baby on the way on the top floor of a casino in the perfect setting for the celebration that Pepper had dreamed of the plans were shared for a ceremony in India for a certain level of privacy in renting an estate there. As linked as Loki’s plus one you were granted your own invitation and to follow the dress code would wear your white gown sleeveless gown coated with golden branches that stemmed from the waist out. Because you were upstairs Peter was allowed to attend as long as he didn’t head down to the casino and when the party had dipped into the second half and a clear need for privacy when Stark gave his usual hint you and the other guests gave them some space. Loki regrettably accepted your peck on his cheek and sighed at his inability to join you down in the casino and entertainment avenues floors below.

However under strict watch of four sleuths working for the casino watched you at your seat at the blackjack table in the figure hugging golden number with accents to frame your curves perfectly on the thick strapped wonder with another low dipping cleavage cut. Enough to distract many, and to Eddie’s glee as he camped out keeping watch on Hippy McGee, Big Ears was in your view a couple tables over and kept noticing the hushed comments of said paid shadows who had watched you go from setting down your grand in chips to eight grand in less than an hour.

Suspicious himself the dealer waited until the signal then flashed you a grin stating, “I apologize, however my time at this table is expended.”

“Oh, do you accept tips? Or is that just a film thing?”

Weakly he chuckled and said, “We do accept tips.” And he accepted the chip you offered him, “Thank you.”

“Sorry,” you giggled out, “I’d have offered sooner. First casino trip, mainly play online no tips involved.”

He chuckled and said, “Understandable, good luck.”

“Thank you,” you said then smiled to the new dealer who greeted you in return and got to watch you amp up your winnings to fifteen thousand that had the second dealer who looked you over as you said, “I think that’s enough for now. Only needed ten really,”

His brows arched up asking, “For the tournament?”

You nodded, “Little likely to win, but any spare funds for college is helpful, so if I lose at least I have four to walk away with over my original grand.”

Relief washed over the guards as the news that you were pooling those funds into the buy in on the tournament that you noticed Big Ears was headed for. And with 260 bodies in filling the allotted seats you were among those who hadn’t paid ahead and filled up a stunningly small group of amateurs amongst the flocks of professionals who were out for a championship free boost to their pocket books before the big game in a few weeks down in Vegas.

Basic chips were allotted for starting bet pools while your clutch rested in the secured drawer above your lap after having been checked and locked there like the other players in each table for their personal items to prevent cheating. Lost to the flow from the four other people around you the 52 tables steadily emptied in each depletion of chips. And with each empty table from the final player in each belongings were freed to move groups of five players filled the second round of the tournament. Guards again were present and in Big Ear’s view you were clearly being watched as whispers began to spread that you weren’t losing hands. Bluffs or clear victories were now casting second and third glances towards the remaining amateur in their midst on your way to the approved bathroom break without your still locked up clutch.

The third round began and in the empty of more shows or dinners at the choice of eateries inside this palace of greed and impulse the viewing room that had a growing audience to watch the wall of flat screens displaying the action. Yet you and the others had no clue in the sealed off hall to keep things running smooth without spare bodies in the way or chance for outward influence. Rows were split off and the next group of winners would simply move to the next row to meet their new opponents with clear crates of chips in tow to make ease of the moves. Some wouldn’t find comfort in a tournament like this, so many were used to sitting in one place for a time and as the you hit two and a half hours you didn’t know it but a relieved exit of the top floor had Sam and the Super Soldiers in the viewing room and Sam easing his phone out of his pocket to call Tony who was still upstairs. “Hey, um,”

“Poker tournament over already?” Tony asked pouring himself a drink.

“You’re not going to believe who’s in the final round.”

“Try me. I would wager Big Ears is down there, he’s been boasting on it all month. Him and Flay, they have a sort of thing back and forth for years.”

“Pluto.”

“Pluto what?” he asked lifting the glass already feeling Loki’s eyes on him for saying your name.

“Pluto’s at the table.”

Tony chuckled, “She did not have ten grand to enter the tournament, stop joking, who’s at the table.”

“Pluto, and she’s 800 grand up. She’s bluffing with threes.”

Tony paused and snapped his fingers, “Three minutes,” he hung up and the whole group was down to catch the back end of that hand for his scoff to the clear ease of the final ten grand from Flay who demanded to see your two down cards before he would leave. This for one of the few at this table to have a monster hand and the still amused unreadable expressions that none of the guys at the table seemed to be able to read. Eddie in the audience having completed his task an hour ago and was concerned at the lack of an answer to his texts found himself grinning widely to the sight of a shift in your seat to alleviate the numbness in your hip for the annoying seam in the back of your skirt you tried to avoid with a slightly irritating angle had Big Ears smirking widely and in his turn to bet shoving all his chips into the pot.

You didn’t lose and his try to bluff you out of your seat had him out of his own and cursing his way from the room for the Pro on his right to smirk watching your mini mountain of chips grow even more almost to match his own at 7 million for the largest pool at the table. Loki asked lowly, “What is the motivation behind this game?”

Which Natasha answered, “A battle of deception. Best liar wins the biggest pot.”

Tony asked, “Why did she get in the tournament in the first place?” he asked to Peter’s slip into the room behind a bigger adult’s back to hide between Thor and Loki.

Eddie answered, “I asked her to help me with causing a diversion.” Tony raised a brow his way and he said, “Can’t explain.”

Thor asked, “If she wins, how much does she get?”

Sam, “Depends on how many are at the table. If she’s the last one she wins 25 million, before taxes.”

Peter asked, “How much are the taxes?”

To which Tony said, “25%, so she’d have shy of 19 left.”

Pepper with an amused grin said, “Either way being in the last eight, she cleans up her accounts well enough.”

Bucky asked, “How long has she been playing poker?”

Eddie said, “Taught her to play after we met when she was stuck in bed healing. Started online poker on her birthday.”

Steve, “And in casinos?”

Eddie answered shocking them, “First time in one.” Deepening Loki and Natasha’s smirks as you smoothly deceived every single person at the table able to swing another win on a lucky three of a kind over all the other players’ single pairs. There was no taps, no signs of any cheating involved and still it was stunning how the mountains of chips soon gravitated their ways to your corner and another person was escorted away.

By the final player however as the men traded hand shakes and the third place finalist removed his enforced tie at the classy dress code enforced for this to be broadcast for a Bond themed event to line up with the next film coming out that the actual actor who played James Bond himself was amongst the judges watching the game up close curious of who would win out and if your win streak would continue. “So, when you come in second what are your plans for the 20 mil?” he asked cockily adjusting his own dwindling collection of chips.

“College mostly. Degrees are expensive.”

“Let me guess, Communications and Interior Decorating?” He joked with a sneer to the chuckling judges.

And with the same unflinching smile you answered, “Underwater basket weaving actually.”

He pointed at you, “Funny.” Cards were dished out and after two winning hands and eyes that refused to leave your casual smile in the small allowed crowd for any hint of a way to tell what you were up to this hand for the round bet your opponent was almost cleaned out by and had grown twitchy, uncertain of what to think as you stole your usual only glance at the card.

He could win it all and at your ease of four stacks into the middle to up his ante and chance of continuing this game for much longer and higher nail biting ratings and yet to the shift of his eyes and try at a calming exhale that trembled like his sweaty hands he shook his head. The two cards he had left were tossed in the center of the table and stunned silence for a few moments as he said, “Fuck it, second is good enough to get away from this table.”

It was just a flinch wider your smile twitched and he had snapped and to the claps and muttered congratulations no one but the actor in their midst with awe in his hand shake and comments on your success was broken by your opponent’s lift of your still uncovered cards that had the room explode with noise after he said, “You bluffed me with a pair of twos?!”

And to muffled giggles you accepted your clutch and welcomed the chance to get a picture with the actor who walked you to the win station where you were given your check post tax cut of a voice wavering amount of 18.75 million you tucked into your clutch. And to Tony’s side as he bled into questions you asked one of your own that stunned him, “What bank do I take this to? I don’t think mine would be able to deposit this much.”

Tony said, “I’ll take you to mine.” The others moved onto the dessert bar stop as he drove you to his bank to help guide you into the exclusive place that was more than eager to get ahold of your meager funds compared to his fortune to keep one of their best customers happy. One was kept in a separate fund account while the rest was put in a savings account to match the one that Eddie for his own laugh worthy bet on the winner of you for first place deposited his 5 million dollar nest egg that would keep you both from ever being homeless if the worst came about and you were named to the public and had to run for it. Choices the Billionaire had to respect for the sums collected by the pair of you in a matter of stunning hours.

Stolen glances and whispers your way didn’t stop his continued urge to see you safely back to the group as now your face would be out there as one of the largest female poker tournament winner for raking in a 25 million pot. Surely you had Eddie to check in but taking you back to that apartment in Queens didn’t fully sit right with him as you were young and alone and now visibly richer than most peers of your age who didn’t inherit their funds. He knew how people were vultures when the smell of gold was in the air and now you were known to have a whole hoard of it. Although the thing to really ruffle his feathers was in your return when the press had already ran online stories on the second place winner’s comments that he just wanted to let a young girl pay for her education so he folded and let her have the few extra million in the larger pot next to his. A statement that in Stark’s agitation had him enter the dining room of the eatery of your choice inside the casino to celebrate saying, “You’re going to WSOP next week in Vegas.”

He settled into his seat flashing Pepper a smile as you finished chewing and asked, “Excuse me?”

“Sort of slipped out. He said he let you win and no woman has won the main event let alone reached the final table, one has gotten a chair away, next week, I’ll pay your buy in since I put you into this and then we can skip this whole thing like it never happened.”

After a glance at Eddie you said, “Fine, I’ll see where we can book a room.”

“No need, I got a penthouse with enough for all of us who want to go, we can take my jet and I’ll even set you up with a spa day if you like.”

“I don’t go to spas, most of them have nothing but lavender and I can’t breathe around lavender. Not even mentioning their obsession with nuts.” You said closing your menu and flashing a grin to the wide eyed waitress in charge of your table who came to take your orders.

.

Irritation somehow for the discovery that the glass and utensils Mesique had used being clean of any sign of use was short lived as Tony readied the plans for the trip to Vegas and let the entire press world this young poker protégé was going to have her butt in one of those final nine seats. All the way from the pitch black arrival to the stroll up through the lush hotel flashes of light recorded the elite entourage you arrived with and the Prince who kept tight hold of your hand and waist. The plushy bed was just what you needed and for the hour until buy in time was begun you stared at it longingly over the shoulder of the woman summoned to the room to give you a manicure. At least the focus of which you could choose and from her limited supply of choices you picked a glittery teal base with black octopus stickers to be clear coat on top to have something unique for the cameras since thanks to Tony there would be people watching to see where the kid placed.

This was gonna be twelve hours so along with your jean shorts a baggy maroon sweater was a must. With the sleeves bunched at your elbow you left your hair down and slung over a shoulder, adding your bolero hat on the way out to go and buy your seat. Flashes again captured everything from your maroon wedges Steve had bought you and everything else to be picked apart to see what you might have bought since your big win last week. Arguably amongst the hoards of hoodies and sunglass wearing masses you stood out a bit and in line you waited chatting with Tony in his try to help sharing lowly about the poker pros who were on the other end of the sign up hall that all stole glances with you and the famous face at your side reminding them of just where this new kid would be. Already in the elevator he’d passed you a bundle of hundreds that you handed over and filled out the information card and accepted your entry sticker you added to your shoulder and turned for the spot you were meeting the others at for breakfast.

“Pluto Pear,” you heard turning your head to the man you beat the week prior who bought his own seat a bit ago, “You really went with Pluto again, huh?”

At Tony you glanced asking, “Was I supposed to pick an alias? I can call myself Orion and buy a fake mustache if that makes you feel better.”

The guy looked you over as Tony said, “It’s her birth name not a nickname.”

“Man that must suck,” he said on his stroll away.

“I’m a cosmic force of rebirth and riches unlike your glorified boyfriend moniker, Beau.” You said strolling past him turning him to glance back at your back while Tony fought not to chortle.

Tony, “Always bad sign to mock the name of the God of the Underworld, planet hasn’t been the same since they started commenting on his planet’s size either.”

“I’ll pay you back from my winnings.”

“Don’t you worry about that, this is all my fault you’re here. I tend to bump people into things lately.”

“Like a certain impending baby bump, congrats again. Can’t wait to see the flying stroller you invent.”

“Pepper would launch me at the sun,” he said making you chuckle as he did for how wound up she was and how nervous he was. “I fought aliens, and this is a baby, somehow way more terrifying.”

“You could talk to Clint on how he handles it.”

You said and Tony looked at you, “Handles what?”

“He’s got kids.”

“He what?! This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

“Ah, he mentioned watching the Kung Fu Panda films with his kids and they loved it. Might have slipped out by accident. But I’m sure it’s mainly nerves at this point you’ll both calm down or scream your way on this terrifying rollercoaster of the next two decades.”

He chuckled again and into the eatery you strolled finding the table as Loki stood to ease out your seat beside his with a kind grin, accepting your peck on his cheek he followed with one of his own while Tony asked Clint, “So Clint, how are the Wife and Kids?” After his open mouthed stare Tony said, “Spill your secrets.”

Loki chuckled staking his own seat asking, “Did the sign up go well?”

“The guy I beat last time, or well, who came in second thought Pluto was a fake name.”

“His name is Beau, he has no grounds to debate the superior name.”

You shrugged, “He can say what he likes, Pluto fights back with a vengeance.” You said making him chuckle again and steal a pat of his hand on your lower thigh closer to your knee.

“You will be fantastic.”

Natasha said from her seat on your other side, “More than fantastic, today you are going to be historic.”

You giggled and said, “Just have to get through 7990 people to get to that historic spot, and 9 more to do the unthinkable.”

Thor said, “They are no match for your deceptive skills. Only the best could be bonded to my brother.”

Sam, “You got a poker face from a whole other planet. Nobody could figure out your ticks even our super spies here.”

Loki said, “I am certain your brother will be watching you if you are feeling nervous.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m glad he’s actually making some headway with his story.”

The belly filling spread was a good start to the day as soon enough the start of the 12 hour stretch of the first day of the Main Event kicked off. Every hand stirring up more gossip as one by one the other women in the pool of players got bumped off leaving just you on the cusp of what could be history. And while other women had won some of the smaller events this was so much bigger, and you had to celebrate this round with food.

“Ooh, sliders, and potato skins, and pizza.” Two tables worth of food was rolled up and had you all sampling the variety you craved after twelve hours that broke into your usual snack schedule that Loki smiled through his learning more of this new wave of cuisine you favored.

“Is she like a secret body builder that none of us know about? She eats more than Thor does.” Tony whispered to Sam who was already noticing how Bucky and Steve had tapped out in their silent try to eat more than your petite self.

Sam, “I don’t know. Maybe she’s fueling up a growth spurt? I had a cousin that ate like that as a kid and just one summer he shot up like a foot.”

Tony said, “Maybe she’s just a snacker, every few hours and twelve hours without food and she is just, eating a whole buffalo.”

Sam said, “Glad to see a girl with a healthy appetite. My sister has a hard time making friends with girls who can’t knock back a few burgers.”

Tony said, “Must have been fun having a sister,” making Sam look at him in another glance around the group, “Always thought about having a sister.”

To which Sam replied, “It’s a lot like your relationship with Misique,” making Tony look up at him, “You kinda wanna kill them, but then someone makes them cry and then it’s like how you cat with Pluto. You hate them, love them, can’t stand them, but you’d blow up the world to keep them safe to fight with another day.” He paused then said, “You could ask her to be your sister. Pluto’s got to be the second richest person in this room and smart to boot, could even give you a run for your money if she had the chance.”

Tony nodded and said, “She’s made some good choices, got a fund for school set up and the rest of the money went to savings. Maybe with this money she wins she’ll buy herself a safer place to live. Her place is tiny, it’s got these windows without bars on them. Not safe.”

Sam chuckled, “Ooh, you’re gradually adopting yourself a baby sister, big man.” Patting him on the back.

.

Twelve hours and as the final woman standing with a scoop of the Dealer’s hands your pot grew collecting the last of the chips from another poker giant who fell to what he assumed to be a bluff only to slam face first into a gasp worthy full house of clubs. Claps and cheers sounded as you exhaled and took a glance at the other tables still going strong. Lowly to the watchman near your table you whispered and were guided to a bathroom break after having finished off another bottle of water. An approved pack of cheese crackers from the table of snacks were opened and eaten with the wrapper thrown away by the time the final table was ready for you to even look at let alone make the walk to the chair with your last name on a sheet of paper taped to the back of it.

Amongst the final ten seats from the tray your fingers eased the chips you had collected into neat piles and gave a subtle adjustment of your hat over your curls as the rolled up sleeve on your open flannel from Eddie shifted in the cross of your legs. Stares were common in each opening of the front of the borrowed shirt revealing the tight black t shirt you had on underneath to keep from having your cleavage on all the press shots of you as distant shots from the crowd the day prior had captured just about every moment of your bared legs. Though with a third seat emptied to a convincing bluff from the pros who tried to both defend their record of having won here already many times before with the bracelets on to prove it they took to adjusting in self soothing motions as if to remember that they were professionals even if your chip hoard was growing and the 12 million pot was becoming more attainable with every hand dealt.

While the latest guy was escorted from his seat the man to your left asked, “How long have you been playing poker?”

“For money, not long. Normally play online until last week.”

“One week? You’re kidding me.” Another of the guys replied.

You shrugged and said, “Not that hard to learn when playing against people.”

Another of the men chortled to the deal of the next round, saying, “Not easier at all. Learning to tell who’s bluffing or not.”

“Not that hard.” His eyes shifted back to you as you said, “I can hear your heart beat from here.” A faked laugh was your reply and to your cards you reached to lay them in place for the camera under the ridge to show the commentators what you had. Though it made little difference when another man bumped himself out of his own seat. Gradually the table emptied as they became bolder in aims to empty your seat, something you rarely risked by betting more chips than necessary to egg them on.

And across from the final player in your way everyone with baited breath watched as the bets were finally laid out and to two Aces already on the table he said over his empty chip section to match your motion in a bold motion. “You aren’t bluffing me out of my seat. Three Kings!” he said with a grin you mirrored and raised a brow mid shoulder pop lifting the cards you had you flipped over and fanned out making him cover his face as he heard the dealer say, “Four Aces. Miss Pear wins.”

Press from their booth came over as the head of the tournament still in disbelief at handing over the diamond and ruby bracelet shaped like a championship belt boxers or wrestlers win. WSOP was on the front underneath the year, and in each square section of the diamond accented golden band were ruby and onyx accented hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs. Behind the stack of the 12 million in bundled bills like a tiny fortress you stood with your winning hand on display for the smile filled pictures. After which you were glad to shrink back into your group and let the guys have their usual stops into the game recaps with the former champions for guy talk on all of their favorites to pretend that this year just hadn’t happened. Eight more million after taxes were added to a new checking account for spending in the new bank Tony took you to once again to secure those winnings safely.

Alone in the back seat of his car on the way there he said to break the silence, “You ever think of a house?” You glanced his way and he said, “I know a realtor, we could look in Queens if you like.”

“I have twelve pieces of furniture.”

“You can always buy more you know.”

“What would I even do with a house?”

“Whatever you want. Even have villains target it with missiles like my old place on the coast. My neighbors don’t like me much.” He said stealing a glance at the necklace your fingers stole a stroke of as you glanced outside the window in the startled squeal of two friends running into each other after a long time apart. “Your parents would want you to have a nice place,” he said turning your head again. “Doesn’t hurt to look.” He said in a drop of his gaze to his phone while you blinked away the brewing tears at all you imagined your parents anticipated for you now light years away.

Pt 11

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

#Plots and Planning #Poker Tournaments #Loki x OC #Eddie Brock/Venom & OC Siblings #Howard Stark #Sam #Bucky Barnes #Marvel

[magalidragon]

Silent Shadows | Chapter 14: the journey | a teaser

"How are things with you and Arsehole?"

That was pretty not at all subtle. She rolled her eyes. "Arsehole?"

Arya shrugged. "He's been a total toolbox the last few days, I wanted your take on why." She wagged her tongue and eyebrows. "You not putting out or something?"

"Arya!"

"What? Maybe he just needs to get laid."

She rolled her eyes, her turn now to be irritated. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the exam table, wrestling with telling Arya the full truth. It wasn't like she didn't know. By now, six months after she'd gone to Essos for her surgery, things had shifted, enough so that the ones closest to her and Jon were fully aware of them.

It had gone around town rather quickly, the vet moving in with the deaf wolf owner. It took a few months, her possessions slowly migrating from the apartment above the office to Jon's house-- their house-- until one morning Jon just asked her flat out if she wanted to move in. He had been very Jon about it all.

He was brushing his teeth, while she washed her face, side-by-side sinks, very domestic, and after he spit out the toothpaste, met her gaze in the mirror and signed: "Do you live here now? If not, you should." Then he turned around and walked out.

Dany raked her fingers through her hair, letting it fall out of the messy braid she'd tugged it into that morning, in a rush to get out and to the clinic in time for her first appointment. The distance between the house and the clinic had been the only thing she didn't much care for when it came to moving in with Jon. She began to rebraid her hair, quietly speaking to Arya. "It's jus tbeen hard, the last few months."

"I know," Arya murmured.

They were referring to Ghost's attack, the terrifying moment when they thought that all would be lost. She had been more scared than any moment in her life combined, focusing on every ounce of training in her bones, healing the animal that gave her loved one his voice. Without him, Jon could not speak, and with everything else in their life, losing Ghost was not an option.

Thank the gods that had not happened, he was recovering well, still weak and slow, but healing. So was Jon, his heart having been ripped from his body at the sight of his beloved companion bleeding in the snow, and lying in the operating room while she stitched him together. They had been through too much to let it get to them, but it had been exhausting.

Six months of constant upheaval, they were still there. She figured Jon was allowed a few days to be an arsehole, even if it pissed off Arya. "I told him I didn't want to do another round yet," she mumbled, digging her toe into a groove in the tile. It was aged, desperately needing replacing, just another thing on her 'to do' list.

Coat rustling, Arya moved back from the window, and went over to stand next to her, lightly touching her hand. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It is what it is, you know?" The surgery had been successful, Mel said, removing scar tissue and other adhesions, and so with the first round they hoped it would take, but she was prepared for the worst. It hadn't, which had been devastating for them both.

She blamed herself for getting Jon's hopes up too. He was all in, from the moment he'd appeared in that hospital hallway to the way he'd 'artfully' proposed he'd be her donor. They didn't speak much about another round, until two months later, and that hadn't worked. This time she was saving up for another go, knowing Jon could afford it but not wanting his trust fund to be depleted because her stupid body couldn't do the one thing that it should do as a female.

Arya quirked her lip. "It just isn't time. Ghost's attack, moving in together...perhaps it's for the best right now."

"Yeah, I tell myself that too." They didn't bother to prevent it, didn't stop, but she was growing weary of 'scheduling' their lovemaking to when it was most conducive to pregnancy. She chewed her bottom lip, thinking of the box that was in her bag, waiting for when she went home, just in case. She was late. Maybe this time...

She didn't want to tell Arya just yet. She didn't even want to tell Jon. Sometimes she didn't even want to tell herself. It was a constant struggle. She chewed on her bottom lip a moment and then forced a smile, when Arya gave her a furrowed frown. "I'm fine," she lied.

"Uh-huh."

Of course Arya would not believe her. She was so protective. It was a blessing and a curse. She patted her hand, reassuring. "Seriously. Things will be fine. We're also getting used to things."

"Like what? Can I help? Gendry moving in with me was the weirdest thing ever. I thought I knew all his strange habits but then..." Ayra shuddered. "Men."

Dany laughed. She shrugged and knelt down to pet Lady, needing something to do with her hands. "Oh just all kinds of things. I had to get a sleep mask for his light alarm. Learning how to approach him so I don't scare him. Sometimes the silence can be a lot. I don't watch much TV but it's odd."

"He doesn't care about that, you know."

"I know, but I do." There were also the flashing lights on the microwave, the oven, and some other assistive devices she hadn't realized were even there until she moved in. Strobe lights in place of smoke and carbon monoxide detectors. Red blinking light over the door if someone was there, motion detected. There was also a vibrating device in the bed, she'd discovered, that could be hooked up to alarms to wake him, but he didn't use it.

"Freaks me out sometimes," he signed, when she asked why not. He smiled lecherously. "But we can find an alternative use for it."

Jon, always the resourceful one.

She clipped Lady's leash to her harness, standing and passing it over to Arya. "Then there's just the weird habits. You're right, men are weird."

"Jon has to be the weirdest."

"I don't know about that, but he does have some quirks." He hated laundry, waited way too long to do it, and it drove her insane. There was also the way he sometimes 'pretended' not to hear when she knew damn well he'd seen her signing, feigning surprise when she asked why he wasn't 'listening.' Usually when it was related to chores. Otherwise they had settled into a routine.

Arya walked out of the room with her, allowing Lady to lead the way to the door. "Well if you ever need a drink, let me know. Tormund misses you."

"I know, I have to stop by and see him."

"Rickon also says he wrote a song about you, he wants to send it to you, but needs your email." Arya rolled her eyes. "I shudder to think what he says in it."

Dany laughed. She liked Rickon and it seemed Rhaegar did as well. He had connections to the music industry in Essos and was looking into getting RIckon's band a few gigs. "I'll let Rhae know."

"Your hottie brother is so weird."

"Ew! He is not a hottie!"

Arya shrugged. "Sansa has a crush on him, don't tell her I told you that."

Dany pretended to gag, opening the door for Arya and Lady. She gestured for her to leave, with a flourish. "And with that, I bid you farewell. I also need to burn out my eyes, because my brother is not hot." Annoying and melancholy, yes. Hot? No way.

"Whatever. I think he's hot."

"Arya!" She made a face, sticking out her tongue. "Well, then let me tell you that your cousin is super hot and kept me up all night long last night with his..."

"Ew! Shut up!" Arya slapped her hands over her ears, closing her eyes tight. "La, la, la, la!"

She smirked. "Two can play that game."

"Goodbye bitch."

"Later." She made another face and waved, Lady hopping off excitedly towards the truck. She leaned against the door frame a moment longer, watching Arya drive away. It was nice to have someone close. Someone to joke with when things got tough. Her friendship with Arya had been a constant for her to rely on during her time in the North, even during those hard times with Jon. Missandei was so far away. Even if Dany was still trying to convince her to move there, her best friend hadn't budged, citing the cold was too much for her.

After a few minutes, she closed the door and flicked the sign, closing up for the Friday afternoon. Gilly had already left, to go deal with some sort of school drama involving her sons. Dany finished up and did some paperwork, trying to distract herself from what lay ahead at home

#jonerys #jonerys au #my fics #my moodboards #jonerys fanfic #silent shadows #coming soon #a ‘look at me’ post as someone once called these

[cecilspeaks]

172 - Return of the Obelisk

“Nothing lasts forever” is a phrase with two meanings, and they’re both true. Welcome to Night Vale.

All of Night Vale is aglow. There is music in the air. You know what that means, listeners: the Obelisk has returned. It’s been nearly 8 years since the Obelisk last appeared, but it’s right back where it always shows up, in Mission Grove Park over on the east side, right next to the Wailing Pit. But a little bit south of the Memorial Debris Heap. The Obelisk returns every 5 to 10 years, sometimes as long as 50, and it brings with it joy, anticipation, and a deep fear. A terror so deep in the gut that it feels like you’ve eaten too much ice cream, but in all reality, your body is simply bracing itself for death. The Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, but so hast he sun, and we don’t trust that thing fully either, so I dunno. Past performance is not an indicator of future results. Unlike the sun, the Obelisk radiates a soft blue light, but like the sun, the Obelisk makes a lot of noise. In particular, music. The obelisk sounds like a Bach concerto played like a French horn and a theramine from inside a refrigerator. Everyone in town is gathering at Mission Grove Park to see the Obelisk in person, to pay homage to this rare visit, and to confront their fears head on. Hopefully everything works out fine, because there are some cool events I want to get to this weekend, and it would be terrible to have to cancel them over a rogue obelisk.

Let’s take a look at the community calendar, shall we? This Friday night is opening night of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Tony-winning musical “Sunset Boulevard” at the Night Vale Community Theatre. I’m very excited to finally see this show, it’s supposed to be a really lavish production, too. And it’s based on one my all time favorite Billy Wilder films about an aging silent movie star who finds an amulet that lets her travel in time, but whenever she moves through time, she enters someone else’s body and can’t leave until she saves her life. This staging of “Sunset Boulevard” is directed and produced by… oh my god, Susan Willman?? Really? Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrhooonestly, this has been a pretty long week and Iiii might need to just rest at home on Friday. I mean I’m not trying to be rude here, but Susan Willman is the worst! Did you know she once judged the chili cook-off, and I came in third? Third! Behind Joel Eisenberg, which is fine, Joel’s an OK cook, but also behind who else? Susan Willman! You can’t be a judge and win first place. I’m also pretty sure Susan used a prepackaged spice mix in that chili. [laughs oddly] I don’t have that verified through a secondary source, but I can confirm, it was oversalted, again. I’m not saying, I’m just saying. Anyway, go see “Sunset Boulevard” on Friday if you want to watch uninspired actors and muddled blocking.

Saturday afternoon is the PTA bake sale fundraiser to send our Academic Decathlon team to a tournament in our state’s capital. The PTA secretary… [sighs] Susan WiIlman, says this money will go toward hotel and bus travel for our brilliant and talented Ac-Dec squad. “Academic Decathlon is about intelligence and perseverance,” says Willman in this overwrought press release. “Ac-Dec is about freedom and fastidiousness. It is a celebration of hard work, and we want Night Vale to show the rest of the state that blah blah blah blah blah,” God she just runs on! I mean yes, Ac-Dec is very cool and I wish our kids well. But chill with the grandstanding! Anyway, go buy a cake to support those amazing students, even though I’m sure Susan will still manage to mess up a box mix.

Sunday is Youth Reprogramming Day at the Night Vale Museum of Forbidden Technologies. Does your child love learning about new gadgets and advancements in technology? Well, come on down to the Museum of Forbidden Technologies on Sunday for a day-long reprogramming event. Docents and curators will engage those curious kids through hands-on unlearning. They’ll take their patented mindwipe beam and point it right at each child’s forehead until all interest in forbidden technology has been removed. Kids love the mindwipe beam, because it smells like grapes, and they don’t feel any pain for weeks after. Youth Reprogramming Day is a family friendly day of discovering that you know too much, and knowledge is treason.

Today’s appearance by the Obelisk is the 19th in recorded history. Little is known about what the Obelisk is, who controls it, or what it wants. Most scientists and historians agree that it was created by subterranean gods millennia ago, and they think its purpose is a type of census for life at ground level. The Obelisk is about 25 feet tall, it is oily and soft like a fresh brick of parmesan cheese, and when it appears, everyone in town carves their name into one of its four sides. We do not know why or when this practice began, it’s simply how it’s always been done. And to question tradition is to admit weakness. When the Obelisk eventually disappears, perhaps today, perhaps several days from now, it will take our names with it. And when it returns, those names will be gone and we will begin the tradition anew. No one knows what happens to those names. Are they simply erased, or are they read and recorded? Is this data mining for some ancient technology startup, or does the Obelisk truly belong to the gods? We only know what happens to one of the names carved on the Obelisk, and for that person, we feel both envy and pity. For while the Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, past performance et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. Route 800 is shut down until 4 PM today, as it has turned into a river. No cars are on Route 800, it’s just water. Rough and choppy, spiking white rapid caps atop nearly black rushing death. Highway officials are investigating the sudden appearance of this river, perfectly overlaying our main thoroughfare in and out of town. Beneath the quickly moving rush of the river, a single fish, probably a bass of some sort. Highway officials are uncertain because they don’t think about fish. Why would they? Highway officials are annoyed that you think so little of their awareness of fish species. They can tell a salmon from a marlin from a mackerel. “See what you made us do?” one highway official said. “We could have been repairing route 800, but you started picking on us for not knowing if that’s a bass or a mackerel or a whatnot. In fact,” the official continued, “we just looked it up on Wikipedia and it’s a bass. And fun fact,” they added, “did you know that bass can grow up to 25 pounds, have four rows of human teeth, and speak Spanish at a first grade level?” The river is now branching out down sides of streets and into neighborhoods. Pavement everywhere is a network of fresh water capillaries through town. Expect delays of up to 10 or 20 minutes, as you try to get to Mission Grove Park. This has been traffic.

The whole town feels like a carnival now with the flashing lights of the Obelisk and it’s crescendo of lively music filling the cool twilight air. We dance, we sing, we revel in togetherness and share our  fears of what will happen next. What will the question be? And more importantly, what will be its answer? When every name has been placed upon the Obelisk, then the blue glow of the towering monolith will die away. The entire structure will turn black. All except one name. One name will remain lit on the Obelisk, and that person shall be sent forth to ask their question. They may ask any question they choose and the Obelisk will tell them and only them the answer. No one else will hear this communication. If the receiver wishes to share what they now know, they are allowed to do so.

Many years back, this ritual was more organized. Early Night Vale townships planned a democratic approach to this opportunity: a committee of the Obelisk was formed to decide on the single most important question to ask. This approach came about in response to the super blunder of 1932, when a 6-year-old boy named Bartholomew Thomason was chosen to deliver the question. He  asked the Obelisk if he was, quote, “gonna have corn for dinner”. The obelisk apparently said no, because little Bart started crying and the Obelisk quickly disappeared, not to return for almost 10 years. By that time, the committee of the Obelisk was established and they chose the question: “how do you cure cancer?” Ah, this is a good and noble question. But the citizen chosen by the Obelisk was a farmer named Barry McKenney, who tried his best to take careful notes, but a lot of the detailed medical jargon was just too complex for him. The committee tried this question again 6 years later, but the Obelisk refused to respond to any question it had already answered. So Sidney Laynord of Old Time Night Vale, not having a backup question from the committee, asked if his wife Jessica was cheating on him with Gerald Framingham, and the Obelisk said no, but it only said that because Gerald’s actual last name was Framington, so Sidney just messed up.

Over the decades, the committee of the Obelisk asked: “Is God real”? And the Obelisk said yes, but nothing more. After that, they tried to ask questions that would elicit more detailed response. Um, one year they asked: “who planned the assassination of JFK?” and were disappointed to learn that it was a CIA - Fidel Castro – Frank Sinatra triumvirate that conspired to murder our 35th president. This was the most boring answer, but at least it verified what everyone already knew.

By the 1990’s, though, the committee of the Obelisk had kind of fallen out of fashion after years of corporate funding and corruption. See, this controversy exploded in 1997, when the question put forth by the committee, which at the time was headed by the CEO of Pepsico, was: “what’s the best tasting carbonated soft drink on the market today?” The Obelisk’s answer, to the chairman’s great disappointment, was Surge. Today, whoever is called on by the Obelisk is given free reign to ask whatever they choose. However many news outlets regularly publish lists of recommended question, but there is always the risk that someone will ask something frivolous like “what’s Jason Mraz up to these days?” or “where is the body of my missing fahter?” Please, God please, just don’t call on Susan Willman. She will blow it.

And now a word from our sponsors. Are you tired of wrinkled shirts? Do your clothes get static cling? [increasingly angry tone] How many times do you show up to work with your shirt all rumpled and not smelling like seafoam mist? You’re not going to get a promotion looking like that, and while no one deserves anything, you certainly should appear to earn that promotion. You need crisp, clean, non-ionised clothing that smells like seafoam mist. Don’t you wanna smell like seafoam mist?! Try Tide pods. With our special formula of citrus extract, kelp and milk fat, Tide pods can be the all natural solution to all of your laundry problems. You deserve Tide pods, because you deserve that promotion over Michaela, who’s only like 22 years old. What has she ever done to deserve a promotion? What’s Michaela’s deal even? Tide pods. Remember when we seemed like a big problem?

Oooooooo listeners, the Obelisk has gone dark. The music has ceased. The whole town encircles the tower waiting for its declaration for who shall ask the question. In the quiet night, under few start peeking thru the purple sky, we can hear only the sounds of crickets. The Obelisk, so black as to appear cut out from reality, suddenly shines a small blue line. It is a name, it is on the south face and is it… Oh no! No no no, listeners, I don’t know if I can stop this but I will try. Uuuh, let’s go now to the weather.

[“Pros and Cons” by Sugar & the Mint https://www.sugarandthemint.com/]

Welllll it’s too late. She’s asked her question. I’m not sure how I could have stopped this disaster, even if I made it over there before she could ask it. OK, as you know by now, the Obelisk lit up with Susan Willman’s name, and she grinned smugly and did that fake like “who me? What, oh my god!” gesture and then walked on up to the Obelisk. The crowd was calling out questions to her like  game show audience trying to help a contestant, no single phrase discernible above the others, and Susan just looked around, her big goofy eyes scanning the people around her, as if she would actually lower herself to listen to their questions. [scoffs] She thinks she’s so high and mighty with her PT officer status and her hit Broadway musical. No no no, Susan’s above us all, just as important as she can be. She waved her arms like wings for quiet, and the audience obeyed, she’s so self-important, so attention seeking. And then she asked her question. The one question we as a town get only every decade or so, and Susan said: “Hey, so what’s your name?” What’s your name?!! God! What a waste! Did she forget we only get one question? The crowd began to boo, or at least I did. I started booing and I am part of the crowd.

The obelisk began to speak only into Susan’s mind and Susan listened closely. She giggled at first, like a little girl hearing a silly joke from a grandfather, and then her tear-filled laughs turned into tear-filled breaths, which eventually became tear-filled sobs. After about three minutes, the Obalisk vanished, and Susan stood alone on the small hill between the Wailing Pit and the Memorial Debris Heap, and she told us what she heard. Or [scoffs] she told us some of what she heard.

Susan said, in an unusually booming authoritative voice: “Whosoever speaks aloud the name of the Obelisk shall become the Obelisk. Whosoever becomes the Obelisk shall live forever. Whosoever lives forever shall know all things. Whosoever knows all things shall be damned. And whosoever hears the name of the Obelisk spoken aloud shall perish.” The crowd parted for Susan as she left the park. They mumbled their disappointment in both the question and its answer. Some spoke with pity, some with disdain, while some thought it was all pretty cool and now. “Much better than last time, when Dave asked who would win the 2013 NBA championships,” said one person. “Dave won a lot of money on that answer, though,” responded another. “He has a yacht now over at the Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area.”

But most everyone whispered their fear for Susan’s power itself. I mean, Susan received a gif today, a cursed cursed gifts. You know what? I think I might go see that “Sunset Boulevard” after all and I love it. I don’t get to tell Susan very often what a visionary theatrical director she is, but I, I, [chuckles] I might even put some stacks down on her cakes Saturday too. Really support that academic Decathlon team. And the spirit of American ingenuity and perseverance, and all that.

Good question, Susan. I’d like to never learn the answer, but good question nonetheless. You’re one of, if not the, best person I know. Thumbs up.

Stay tuned next for our newest game show, “Nothing will ever be the same”.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Bite your tongue. Fun, right?

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transripts #wtnv #episode 172 #return of the obelisk

[jae-canikeepyou]

| serenity in us | j.jh | ch. one

word count: 2.9k+ ( putting this now yay :3 )

a/n: hey hi hello~ i’m back with another series! i was gonna wait until my semester’s done but my patience’s killing me and i don’t wanna keep you all waiting so here you go! ♡ enjoy! ~j

“serenity is found somewhere between the sky and the sand.” you read the font words on the minimalist frame. it was a quote you heard in an ongoing, constant dream that you thought was needed to be drawn and remembered. in it, the quote was a voice as if a narrator spoke those words to begin something new. the scenery you ask? every place was different but there was always a horizon. the dream was vague and raised a lot of question marks in your mind the moment you wake up.

you hung the item on the wall, marking the end of unpacking your things since moving in days ago. the mess was finally cleared out and the boxes were emptied and folded briefly, lined on one side of the wall. you slouched low in exhaustion, sliding your home slippers across the white marbled floor. it was squeaking even, that only explained how much of a neat freak you were. a new apartment, simple furniture and man oh man, you have an automatic vacuum with a sensor that you didn’t have to worry about the dirt at the annoying, impossible corners.

independence was something you were blessed with despite being an orphan as early as two. uncle caleb; a friend of your father’s and aunt jenn; your mother’s half-sister, gladly took you in as their own.

honestly the mention of your beloved felt like they were still alive and just working abroad, because they were always reminded and talked about from your uncle and aunt. you had a striking resemblance with your mother, but the ways were your father’s. ‘a perfect combination of the two’, was how they described the child they never wanted to leave behind.

the door bell rang and the small screen showed your childhood— and best friend, eunha. she waved at the super tiny camera and had some flowers and bento boxes with her, all packed and nicely decorated. you pressed the button for her to enter. whilst you waited, you played an hour long track list of soothing, chill, instrumental songs to make the apartment a little noisy. one thing’s for sure, silent cleaning was not a good habit since you tend to procrastinate, oops. 

eunha greeted you a hug so tight, placing down the things she brought with her. “y/n! i’m so glad we’re living so close to each other!” she hugged you and fanned herself as if that would stop her eyes from welling. “how’s everything with you? you should’ve called me honey! you know i’ll be coming straight away to help! i have a hotline like the powerpuff girls has.” she winked.

“i’m great! i crossed out the things i completed and now free from the stress. i’m ready for the new semester.” you gestured her to sit, inviting her for the meal you prepared. “well i am the bubbles to your blossom~ but it’s really okay! i managed and here we are talking freely without stressing over things.”

her hands held yours and swung them with excitement. “after we eat, do you want me to bring you around town? there’s a vinyl record store i think you’ll like.” her voice beaming as she singsonged, chewing on the pancake with whipped cream and blueberries.

“it’s still 9 a.m. we have loads of time in the world.” you showed your watch.

the leaves began to fall and you twirled around the sidewalk’s lamppost. eunha took pictures of you, happiness written on your face. you both entered the said shop. records displayed and hung on the wall, posters of legendary artists and worldwide singers encouraging customers to come in.

your hands trailed along the shelf that had new and limited turntables. as much as you were itching to pull out your wallet, there were other important things you needed to worry about and independence meant discipline too. your fingers curled and hesitated, just inches left before you could touch the surface of the one thing you’ve always wanted to purchase.

eunha giggled at your whiney, surrendered self. your back turning away from the product and walking towards her. “y/n.” she called your name, but this certain tone was serious and was more of a reminder.

“i know.” you smiled as you wiggled your phone with the ever precious wallpaper of yours.

“oh! your aunt’s calling you.” she hopped and pointed at the device, making you sliding fingers on the screen a second later. she gestured that she’d head out and wait for you.

“hi aunt jenn.” you greeted on the phone, only to extend your arm slightly at the baby’s cry on the other line. “aw he’s crying again?”

“yes y/n. i’ll be heading to work soon. can you come here?” she chuckled, though it was obvious she had the baby in her arms.

you exited the store and pulled eunha, crossing the pedestrian. “alright, i’ll be on my way.”

the office was dead silent and not one soul dared to speak. three figures stood in front of the angered woman; their continuous fiddles of the fingers and tapping of the toes became faster as they tried to come up with a reason to tell. just one. only the ticking of the clock on the table was heard. it was getting harder and harder to breathe even in a hundred square meter room.

“where is he?!” she yelled. the three flinched and were taken aback, hands either behind them or wrapped around an arm. the door then flung opened, revealing the said guy.

“young man, how can you be so inconsiderate?!” the woman asked again, this time it was in an annoying range of decibel that the listeners had to endure the volume. 

jaehyun brushed past the ‘meeting’ and sat in one of the leather chairs. his legs rested on the centered table, obviously not bothering to listen. “so, being a minute late concludes my actions in general?” he chuckled bitterly, spinning the chair around before standing up again.

“i couldn’t care less,” he now glared at the woman. “about this damn meeting. what is it for, anyway?! wasting my time!”

he left the room and the woman rubbed her temples, swinging her palms to tell the rest of the three to follow the young man. “jaehyun.” yunho called his brother, reaching a hand out to grab him, successfully turning the lad around.

“what?” jaehyun snapped, removing the grip onto his body.

krystal rolled her eyes, the pungent smell entering her nostrils. “you reek, jae.”

“you went drinking again, didn’t you? i could smell the moment you came into the office.” yunho asked, pressing the button of the lift to head down.

“when will you learn, honestly?” jessica fixed her bag on her arm. “grow up.”

jaehyun clapped his hands, applauding the expected words that woman instructed his siblings to do. “me? learn? i already did. i just won’t follow orders from that silver digger.”

“gold*.” they corrected him.

“see you’re still drunk.” krystal meddled with her new manicure, earning a nudge from jessica.

“whatever, noona. you get my point either way.” jaehyun fished out his car keys to toss them up high, whistling his heart out at his favourite tune.

they exited the building and got on the car. he dropped off his sisters at the blanc and eclare flagship headquarters, then drove to a nearby restaurant for lunch with yunho. they entered the place and went to the reserved table. jaehyun sat and loosened the buttons of his polo, removing the neck tie and sat back.

yunho stared at his carefree little brother, he put the menu down so he could maybe give him a little serious talk. he understood why jaehyun acted the way he did earlier. even he himself could do the same but given the circumstances of his standing in the family, of course he’d be the mature one. he was the first child anyway.

“got anything you want?” yunho asked, removing his sunglasses then placing them in its case. “i’ll pay.”

“nah, let me pay for my own meal, hyung.” he flashed a small smile. “i got my pay check.”

“so you still do have a heart.” yunho jokingly stated the overseen fact.

“c’mon you’re smarter than that doctor jung.” jaehyun said the occupation title in a childlike tone. “you should know why i’m filled with hatred towards the woman.”

“hatred is such a strong word, offensive even. but seriously jae, how long are you going to keep up with this behavior? the next thing you know it, you’re out of the penthouse.”

yunho raised his hands to order. the young lad didn’t dare to answer and he sighed at the usual unresponsive manner whenever they hit this certain topic. “look i know for the longest time she treated us like how captain george von trapp did to his kids. i get it. you hated how she uses out-of-the-world discipline and i totally understand that-”

jaehyun scoffed, disbelief clearly written on his face. “i was six when she entered our lives. a kid that age couldn’t handle being shoved around just because he thought there was no difference between boxers and pajama shorts. the sound of music is cool reference by the way.”

“you did have confused mind back then. and what else can i compare it with? she probably took the idea from there.” yunho laughed as he handed the utensils and handkerchief. “but still though, i suggest you man up and act like you do with dad. just be yourself.”

“easier said than done.” jaehyun began slicing his steak and popping one bit into his mouth.

“what makes you so stone cold towards her anyway?” he asked, fixing the handkerchief by his lap.

“simple.” jaehyun stated the obvious even if he knew that yunho knew the answer.

“she’s not mom.”

eunha brought you to the restaurant that opened not long ago. the interior was eye-catching yet even with its simplicity, it was able to attract customers from outside. the smell of dishes that were yet to be served was luring and probably the reason why eunha chose the place. the waiters led you to the a table and soon came back with a baby chair. you placed the little un in it and he smiled with pearls trying to peek out.

you fixed the bib around him and booped his nose. gurgles of his hoarse laughs made everyone at your area turn to him. “ooh you sure are the spotlight stealer, aren’t you? these people are already taking a picture of you.”

“gosh he has the cutest smile.” eunha melted at the sight of him grabbing the tissue. “looky here!” she aimed her camera at him. “y/n, what’re you getting?”

you pondered for a while before your eyes landed at the name your stomach was craving for the past week. moving apartments had a toll on you— that resulted in you unable to cook your favourite meal. up until this morning were you finally found the time to do that. hence the breakfast eunha devoured within seconds.

“i’m getting fish & chips, and the classic steak.” your stomach growled at the picture beside it.

“alright, i guess i’m getting the same as yours.” eunha raised her hand.

the waiter came to your table to kindly ask for your orders. when you did so and thanked the man, a wallet fell from your right side. picking it up to give it to the owner, a large hand lightly touched yours and you looked up to see two men smiling softly.

“thank you.” the man in a suit said, taking the wallet from you.

“you’re welcome.” you answered. the man looked awfully familiar, as if he was on every commercial the screen had offered to show.

you and eunha shared a look. the telepathic words exchanged between the both of you had your eyes agreeing with what you saw, confirming his identity.

“he’s that celebrity doctor.” eunha mouthed. “dr. jung yunho, a paediatrician.”

“he seems a happy child. how old is he if i may ask?” he waved at him.

“this little guy here, just turned one few days ago.” you said, wiping off the drool with the bib.

“oh precious. belated happy birthday buddy.” he greeted.

you turned to the little one and carried him in your arms, waving his hands to thank the man. as you continued have your lunch and taking turns in feeding him and yourself, you noticed some movement where other children would approach the child on your lap. they would pinch his cheeks lightly and made faces they thought would make him laugh.

then the two men beside you stood. but before they left, yunho took a something out of his pockets and handed it to you.

it was a business card of his own practice office with an address and contact information. “if there’s anything you need help with, just give me a call and this guy-” he pointed at jaehyun and pat his back. “-will pick you and birthday boy up and head to my office.”

“hyung!” jaehyun gasped loudly, later covering his hands at the volume of his complaint. “sorry, i don’t mean it in a negative way.” he smiled awkwardly at you.

“no worries.” you gave him a sincere smile and he swore he felt like the world slowed down. everything else blurred where the only focus was you; how your hair length waved below your shoulders and your eyes sparkled with the sun’s reflection.

this young fine man though, whom you thought wasn’t paying attention or interest to, was now staring at you like he had a thousands of questions to ask to fill in his curiosity. “see you around.” yunho bid you goodbye, and the other trailed from behind.

eunha poked your shoulder with an intention of a tease. she grinned and you knew where she would go from there. “i know what you’re gonna say.” you rolled your eyes, yet a faint smile was evident in your lips.

“really?” her tone was very challenging. “i’ll test you. go ahead.”

“‘dr. jung yunho is so handsome! he’s so dreamy in real life! i should’ve asked for his photograph and boast it to my friends!’ yeah, i guess it’s somewhere along those lines.” you mimicked her voice and expression, not to mention gestures as well, especially the hands.

“yah i don’t act like that!” she defended, but there wasn’t any denial as she said that. “well, maybe. you’re not wrong though.”

“hmpf. and here you went ‘test me’.” you giggled, giving another piece of fish fillet to the one-year old. “and for the record, i’m always right whenever i’m proving you wrong.”

“fine you win.” she sipped her juice from a straw. “oh! hey, the guy he’s with is also handsome.”

you nodded in agreement at the obvious fact, although he did have tiny temperment. but that was only due to dr. yunho’s sudden suggestion. “he looked young. maybe his younger brother perhaps?” you wondered.

“hm. i haven’t seen him before. not on screen at least.” eunha chewed on her food. you raised a brow since you have no idea what she was talking about. “that doctor we conversed with, is from a family of good looking people. he has two younger sisters; jessica and krystal jung. the older one is the founder and endorser of blanc and eclare, while the younger one is an nationwide actress.”

“wow.” your eyes grew at the far/fetched level of these people. “sounds like an ideal family out of a manhwa.”

“egg-xactly.” she pointed at you with a hard boiled egg by her fork.

“that guy called him ‘hyung’ though. looked like to me they know each other. plus they have resemblance too.” you wiped your lips clean from the possible stain.

“oh dear ms. y/n.” eunha called you, her palms touching her chest as if she was surprised. “you have the hots for guys like him, which was why you-”

“ah-ah.” you glared at her, making her shush and zipping the imagination by her lips. “don’t talk about that.”

“bummer, i wasn’t even gonna.” eunha pouted but held your hand anyway. “i’ll always be here for you, y/n.”

“thank you.” you gave her a warm smile.

jaehyun waited by the entrance while his brother paid their meal. although he was bummed out that he wasn’t able to pay for his, he was somehow relieved. because once that cash was out of his pockets, he’d be broke the next time he goes to drink again.

at the corners of his eyes, he could still see you and your friend, as well as the adorable child seated on your lap. you were giving him a spoonfuls for airplane feeding.

yunho gestured jaehyun that they were leaving the restaurant. “hyung, why did you say that i’d pick her up?” he asked as he took a quick glance at you.

“c’mon i’m just playing around.” he nudged jaehyun.

“by matchmaking me to some random girl?” he scoffed. “you sure got a lot of time in your hands.”

“don’t take it too seriously jae.” yunho went ahead, leaving his brother flabbergasted.

he then shrugged it off and looked at you before stepping out. his ears perked up at the three second long conversation exchanged between you and the child.

“jaewon, look! mommy’s got an airplane~”

jaehyun stopped in his tracks by the entrance. his head quickly turning to you again. your lips mouthed the one word that shock hit his entire body. you weren’t just some random girl,

you were the mother of that child.

#serenity in us jjh #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun series #jaehyun au

[eeveevie]

indecent promposal

From this prompt list: basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss

Introducing: Rosemary “Rosie” Sheridan! She’s baby. Also has a super suppressed crush on Butch. It’s complicated. Thank you @dreamxng-forever​ for prompting and letting me write for her! I went overboard!

Butch Deloria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer) 

2473 words | [read on Ao3]

Rosie thrived on scavenging—she loved discovering new wasteland objects or pre-war oddities that reminded her of home—Vault 101. She supposed the real reason she enjoyed surrounding herself with so much junk was because she was still trying to figure out her place in the Capital Wasteland, still forging her own path now that she was on her own.

Well, mostly alone.

Butch—she could hear him rummaging though boxes in a different part of the store, shouting little exclamations over to her when he’d find something of interest. He was something else that reminded her of home—she liked to think that was the only reason why she had agreed to string him along after finding him in Rivet City. Weeks of bickering had turned into months of amicable companionship, bordering on friendship. Rosie slowly found she disliked him less but was unable to formulate rational explanations in her mind as to why. Her childhood bully deserved civility, sure, but niceties? A second chance? Preposterous. Anything more than that made her head spin.

The light of his Pip-Boy illuminated his face as he unearthed an intact box, letting out a low whistle as he inspected the contents. “Hey Stitches, get a load of this!”

Butch had been calling her that since adolescence, as soon as she was old enough to begin assisting her father in the Vault clinic. About that time, the youngest Deloria would find himself needing Doctor James Sheridan for a myriad of reason, including stitches. It wasn’t uncommon that Rosie would perform these duties, and after so many visits, the moniker stuck. She would��ve preferred her actual name, but anything was better than Doc, or Nosebleed—both of which he still called her.

In the stretch of silence, Butch had brought the box over to her to see for herself. It wasn’t full of the usual wasteland garbage but instead contained what appeared to be pristine articles of pre-war clothing. Hesitantly she reached inside, gently touching at the soft fabric of the pink dress before removing it completely. She was careful as she unfolded it, holding it fall against her vault suit as she imagined briefly what it would be like to wear such a delicate piece of clothing.

Butch peered inside the box, tugging out a dark suit blazer from beneath another dress. He chuckled, eyebrows quirked up as he waved the arms of the jacket sleeves around. “Kinda reminds you of the gettup we wore to prom, huh?”

Rosie remained silent, sucking up her bottom lip between her teeth. She didn’t have fond memories of their time leading up to graduation, including the small dance the Overseer and adults had organized to celebrate the teenagers’ successes. She clung to the dress for a moment longer, before allowing the fabric to fold over her arms.

Butch’s expression faltered, but instead of becoming annoyed like he would’ve in the past he awkwardly shifted. “What?”

She decided that maybe an explanation was owed. “I didn’t go to the vault prom.”

“Whadd’ya mean?” he asked in return, brows furrowed. “You were there! With Amata!”

Rosie had to give it up to Butch’s memory and wondered how much more of their childhood he remembered. Though, this was only a few years ago, and they had known each other their whole lives. She sighed, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact. “Fine. I was there for all of thirty minutes before you spilt punch on my dress, and I had to go home.”

She expected him to argue or to deny it even happened. What Rosie didn’t expect was the frown and glimmer of guilt that flashed through his expression when she glanced his way. She continued looking at the pink, satin dress in her hands, wondering why this civilized version of Butch unnerved her. Not that she wanted him to taunt and torment her, but at least that would be relatively normal—but after all this time, would it?

“It’s not like I had a date, anyways,” she added, resentfully. Not that she had very many boys her age to choose from anyways. “I’m sure you did.”

“Ya’ don’t have to guilt trip me, Stitches,” Butch finally spoke, his laughter indicating a teasing tone. “Let ol’ Butch make it up to you.”

Rosie groaned, detesting the third-person speak for two reasons—it was corny, and usually mean that ol’ Butch had an incredibly bad plan. She didn’t even want to ask, but he was already gesturing to the dress in her hands and waving the tailored coat he held around.

“We could get dressed up, the two of us—”

She cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not.”

He stumbled, not anticipating her strong refusal. “Whoa, whoa! Let a man finish! Some fancy clothes, some good drink from the bar, some music on your fancy jukebox?”

“What?” she questioned. “A prom do-over?”

Butch grinned. “Exactly!”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard the best part yet!” he argued.

She didn’t have to—did she even want to?. “No.”

“Come on, Rosie. Give a guy a chance why don’t cha?”

Sure, he was pouting a little too much for her tastes, but he had also done something so incredibly rare in speaking her name that her interest was piqued. She wished it wasn’t that easy for him to get under her skin, but something told her he wasn’t completely aware of what he was doing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought about what it would be like to be the center of attention for once—to be the center of his attention. Her skin crawled—and she couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

She relented. “Okay.”

Butch clenched his fist with a grin. “Alright! You won’t regret it.”

The mirror in Rosie’s bedroom was cracked and dusty but served its purpose as she examined her appearance. She had pinned back her long dark hair, applied what little makeup she owned and had left her glasses atop her nightstand—for the first time she looked more like the maturing woman she was supposed to be and not a scrawny teenager chasing her father’s shadow. An enduring thought reminded her that she was still young, she had time to grow into her womanhood.

When she took a step back, she felt a rush of anxiety flood her senses. The dusty pink dress was very flattering and fit her in all the right places—Rosie was materialistically a girl’s girl and loved the color and fabric—but overall, the very fact she was dressed up while the rest of her surroundings were in shambles seemed foolish. Why had she allowed Butch to talk her into this? They had countless of important matters to attend to—no time to be reliving the past just because he wanted to make amends. As she adjusted the tie around her waist, she reminded herself that maybe it was more than that—thoughts she didn’t want to dwell on.

Rosie could already hear the Ink Spots playing when she emerged from her room, glancing to the fuzzy outline that was the jukebox and determined that Wadsworth was floating nearby. With a steady breath she approached the stairs and gripped the railing tightly as she began her descent. Butch was leaning against the back of the downstairs sofa, arms crossed as he stared up at her. Or at least, that’s what she thought, suddenly wishing she had opted for practicality instead of vanity when forgoing her glasses.

Halfway down the stairs, he whistled at her and the cat-call made her flush in a foreign way. Butch chuckled, catching the way she nearly stumbled. “Where’re your frames?” he asked, gesturing to his face.

She didn’t dare to let go of the handrail until her heels were planted firmly on the first-floor ground. He was more reminiscent of a blob until she approached, features clearing up as she stood before him. He was wearing the black, styled suit he had found—sans the tie—with the first few buttons of his collared shirt left open. Rosie figured that had been on purpose—she could teach him how to fix a tie later. He pointed to her face, reminding her he had asked a question.

Still blushing from the way he had whistled at her, she brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face. She wasn’t entirely comfortable indulging her childhood insecurities. “Pretty girls don’t wear glasses to prom.”

“You’re such a dork, Stitches,” Butch softly laughed, but there was no insult to his words. Instead, he nodded at her, a hint of red peeking at his ears. “Ya’ look good,” he added. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Rosie smiled, still feeling flustered by the entire situation. She wondered if it was too late to back out and suggest dinner at the Brass Lantern instead. As if Butch could see the excuses formulating in her mind, he jumped into action, raising his hand up between them in offering.

“Does my best gal want a dance?”

She desperately wanted a respite from how flushed her cheeks felt, wondering if they were as pink as her dress. She was mortified by her own embarrassment, confused by her own emotions—it would be so much easier if she had somebody else to talk to about all this. Like her father. A second thought made her realize her dad would be overly clinical, blaming it all on teenaged hormones. But she did want a dance—what else did she want?

“No dirty dancing!” she said, in her own way of acceptance. She grasped his hand, biting back the sensation of warmth that radiated up her arm. That hand was usually pushing her away—she hadn’t expected it to be so comforting. Butch smirked as he carefully placed his other hand along her waist, prompting her to rest her palm against his shoulder.

“Do we need a ruler?” he joked, eyeing the space between them. Rosie rolled her eyes, shifting a little closer as he led them in a little square-step, all the space her home allowed. Butch was surprisingly a natural and predictably, she was awful.

“I’m bad at this,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet as she very nearly stepped on his toe for the third time.

Butch paused, nudging his hand against her chin to catch her attention. The action was so bizarrely intimate that Rosie stared at him bewildered, her skin aflame—but he didn’t seem to notice that he had shocked her senseless, gripping her fingers to lead them back into another step. It had to be intentional—no way he was that clueless—the way he touched her. He had to know exactly what he was doing to her, and she wondered if it was all some kind of big joke.

“Better than most,” he assured, bringing her back to her senses. He winked. “So you’re a good date after all.”

Rosie wasn’t good at matching his wit or his teasing, but she wanted to try. She couldn’t just stand there and be undone by some nice words. She thought about asking about the full prom package—reminiscing about the day after in the vault when a few lucky girls walked around the halls wearing hickies like badges of pride. Forming the right way to ask such a thing didn’t sound right in her head—she wasn’t a natural flirt, didn’t have the experience and after so many pretend conversations floating in her mind she had to stop and ask herself why she was thinking about Butch Deloria kissing her neck.

Her heart was racing as she found herself staring at him, wondering when he had sprouted up and became so tall. Years ago, when they were fifteen. She had stayed tiny while he filled out, muscles more defined now that he was her companion out in the wasteland. Of course, he still cared about his hair—thick black strands quaffed to the front like the gangster-type he aspired to be—too bad he was the only Tunnel Snake left. When she met his baby-blue eyes, she was done for, cursing the day she found him in the Muddy Rudder. But maybe it was a forgone conclusion since their paths crossed that fateful evening—she’d forgive him, and eventually, gradually, perhaps begrudgingly fall in love with the boy.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Rosie thought, as Butch gradually scooted her closer despite her earlier warning. Nat King Cole was crooning a slow song, and they had slowed in their movements. He squeezed her hand in his, raising an eyebrow. “More quiet than usual, Stitches.”

She didn’t want to admit how annoyed she was with herself, and certainly wasn’t about to divulge how in that moment with Unforgettable playing from the balcony she wanted him to kiss her. She didn’t want a calling card on her neck—no, that could come later—what she wanted was something sweet and demure and chaste. What she wanted was something she had missed out on in her youth—her first real kiss. Ridiculous didn’t even cut it, feeling incredibly absurd for thinking she could ever get it from Butch—that she even wanted it from Butch.

“Um,” she hesitated, thinking he must’ve been able to feel her pulse racing along her wrist. She tried not to stare at his mouth, darting back up to his eyes—but that was worse. The heat radiating off her face could cook a brahmin steak.

He smirked, lips quirking up to the side. At first she assumed he was all too entertained by the sight of her aflutter but when she studied him carefully, she realized it was an endearing look and beneath the surface, he was perhaps just as nervous as she.

“Come’ere,” he tugged her right into his chest, and before she could protest he had wrapped his arms around her waist and back, one hand resting against the back of her head. “Dance like this for a lil’ bit.”

Not a question, but a statement. After a few sways, Rosie adjusted, tucking her arms around his middle and resting her cheek against his shirt.

The longer she stayed there, swaying to the songs that continued to play, the more she understood that they both needed this distraction that evening. Butch wanted to apologize, make up for the past in his own way, sure, but what they really needed was one night where the wasteland wasn’t demanding their attention. She was just as confused as ever, heart and mind filled with endless questions about life and love and everything in between, but for the first time in months, Rosie felt calm. Kissing Butch could wait, if only it meant she could dance with him for a little while longer.

#fallout 3 #butch deloria #butch deloria x f!lone wanderer #rosie sheridan #otp: it's just a flesh wound #because ya know she's a medic lol #I have no idea what I'm doing with this ship oh god #also I wanted to write sweet baby rosie here she is #young stupid teenaged love #these two are dorks and I am in love with them

[a-wanderin-whirlybird]

First Sight: A Sole Ender Fic

Summary: Ryan tried hard to ensure he was never seen without a mask. And if that failed he always kept an extra eye patch on him. The recent stint with the FAHC had turned onto a permanent partnership and Ryan knew he would have to either tell the crew about his "condition" or they would find it themselves. Sadly it seemed that the latter would be the case as a stray bullet decided.

It was a simple job really. Go in, kill a man, steal some data for Gavin, then leave. They had planned and over planned to hell and back. It was an easy job.

But when was anything ever easy or going to plan with the FAHC? They lived and thrived on chaos and uncertainty. It was part of the reason Ryan even accepted the offer to join permanently.

As the Vagabond working alone, he made his own fun. But it always felt hollow, being alone felt hollow. Though it was all Ryan had known for a long long time. The experiments never left room for socializing not when it was only Ryan in a room with a bunch of Pricks.

Still it was nicer to hear others groan at bad puns or laugh at cheesy one liners while storming a bank or glaring down an enemy. It was, nice. Odd, and a learning process for sure but damn if it wasnt nice to have something like a family. Which was why he was extra careful.

Ryan knew that the experiments he survived left their mark. Black and purple veins or skin patches were easy enough to hide with make up. Avoiding water was disguised as a quirk, though for bathing Ryan made absolutely certain to run the shower while he wiped himself down with wet wipes. Not ideal but it got him clean enough. As for teleporting and staring well... he made sure if he did teleport no one saw, and the crew thought he was leaving his sparkles around to annoy Gavin. He was able to pass off his hatred and anger towards staring and eye contact as personal and the crew respected that.

But he could not hide the eye. His left eye had morphed into something else decades ago, right at the beginning of the experiments. His right eye was blue and looked perfectly normal. His left... it had no whites, just black ink and a large nearly matching purple pupil. It moved on it's own sometimes, something Ryan never fully figured out how to stop. And it watched everything. It showed the weakest points in objects, where Ryan could just pluck a cube from whatever it was. It showed veins and important artery locations in a potential victim. It was a culmination of everything the fucks back at the Program had wanted.

But Ryan hated it. Seeing the samn thing not only hurt, but infuriated him. Even decades later it made him feel weak and helpless. And worst of all, it was like a brand. Impossible to hide without heavy cloth or armor, its eerie black glow seeping through everything else. Ryan was only just starting to settle with the FAHC he was actually starting to enjoy himself. Like hell he was going to let something as stupid as an eye fuck that up!

But he knew, eventually he would have to tell the crew. It was either that or they would find out... It had been a simple fucking job and of course that would be where it all unraveled.

"Turn left! Left you Dolts!" Gavin's voice cracked over comms as Jeremy and Ryan sprinted through the corridors of the former safe house. A trail of bloody foot prints spread out behind them as they sprinted down and through the halls. The lights flashed red and an alarm blared loudly.

They hung a left, Jeremy skidding a little as he went.

"How the Fuck did we miss that camera? I thought the system was down!" Jeremy growled as the two rounded another corner. Ryan had pulled out a shotgun and held it close and ready as they raced for the exit.

"Bastards probably had a separate system. But that would mean they expected company." Ryan offered lowly so that the comms heard him but not those around him.

"Shit! Take cover!" Gavin shouted over comms as the battle Buddies finally reached the exit.

Jeremy dove down and Ryan jumped back into an open door as several shots fired past them. Jeremy crawled into the closet with Ryan, cocking a pistol.

"Fuck, how many Gav?" Jeremy asked.

Ryan popped his head out to return fire and popped back in as the sounds of bullet tearing flesh ripped through the blaring alarms as blood oozed out over the floor.

"I caught sight of 3 total. One is down so 2 left." Ryan supplied as Jeremy nodded and ducked out to shoot.

Ryan silently cursed, he could teleport, but he never teleported with someone, itd likely kill Jeremy if he did. But perhaps he could get behind the enemies...

There was a loud crash from the opposite end of the hall and a curse from Gavin.

"Hurry up! They have back up coming!" Well fuck. Ryan pulled a bewildered Jeremy into the Closet and shit off his comm.

"Stay here and please dont ask any questions." Ryan practically begged. Jeremy nodded quickly and gasped when, with a Vwoop! Ryan vanished leaving a small shower of sparkles.

Ryan appeared behind the first man, knife out and swinging. The blade dug into the back of his neck as a groan caught the other man's attention. As Ryan pulled the knife out he teleported again, letting the first fall limp and struck out at the other's neck as he pulled out of his teleport. A quickl slash and the throat was cut and the man fell.

Ryan only had time to barely catch his. Breath as sharp pain ripped through his left eye and the world went white for a moment. When the world partially swam into focus Jeremy had Ryan slung over his shoulder and was making a beeline out the exit. Tyan couldnt quite hear what he was saying and didnt get the chance to figure it out as he drifted into painful unconsciousness.

Jeremy had to say that he figured the Vagabond was weird. Tucker wore a mask for everything and the few times the media even got a glimpse of them without it they had a fucking eye patch and face paint! But then he joined the crew and it became apparent that the Vagabond was like the rest of the crew, weird, pissed, and chaotic as fuck. So sure, Jeremy expect quirks from Ryan.

Then the Motherfucker went and teleported in front of him! Jeremy still wasnt sure if that was what actually happened or if it was the adrenaline playing tricks on his eyes. Then a bullet struck Ryan in the eye and Jeremy didnt have time to think.

He ran out and grabbed his teleporting Battle Buddy and sprinted for the getaway vehicle. Jack was waiting outside and sped off the moment both boys were in the car.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gav fo we have anything back at base for Bullets in eyes?" Jeremy asked desperately over comms. Gavin scrambled on the other side muttering this and that.

"Well get the fucking bullet out first before we get there we might actually be able to do something then!" Jack called from the front as they sped out onto the highway.

"Fuck! You're serving all over the place you think I'm going to be able to dig a bullet out like this?" Jeremy snapped.

"Just fucking try!" Jack shouted, as they swerved around an eighteen wheeler.

Jeremy cursed and began to remove Ryan's mask and then his eye patch

"Sorry buddy." Jeremy whispered as he lifted the patch and frozen. "Oh what the shit?!"

"What? If he is missing an eye dont gawk!" Jack scolded.

"He's not missing an eye but its janky as dicks! Its black and purple and shit." Jeremy shouted as he tried to figure out how the hell he was going to dig a bullet out of his friend's ... uh... eye.

"Thay sounds unhealthy." Jack deadpanned as the car pulled into the headquater's garage. Once stopped jack came around to the back. "Alright move the fuck over you useless-Holy fuck you weren't kidding!"

"Yeah! No shit!"

"Whatever move! I'm getting that bullet out." Jack said, Shoving Jeremy out the otherside of the car. Jeremy yelped as he hit the concrete and popped back up, his eyes catching a patch of black skin peeking through smudged make up.

"Got it!" Jeremy tore his eyes back to Jack who was holding up a bullet covered in a thick black liquid with swirls of red dripping within.

"Great, now help me get this fuck inside." Geoff said jogging up to Jack from behind Jeremy. Jeremy was still frozen as the two Gents carried Ryan up to his room. Gavin and Michael approaches Jeremy.

"The fuck has you spooked?" Michael asked. "He's a tough fucker. Ryan'll be fine."

"Dude did you see his fucking blood? Its black! His eye is purple and moving on it's own! He fucking teleported!" Jeremy exclaimed. "Either that all just happened or I'm fucking high as balls. Neither outcome is good."

Gavin shrugged. "Well, do drugs we all see that."

Gavin pointed to the car where a small pool of black and red flecked blood glistened in the lights. The three lads stared at the pool in silence until michael spoke.

"Well son of a bitch."

Ryan came to in a bed. His own at the penthouse. He blinked a few times feeling the sting of a healing wound in his left eye as he did so. Having super human healing paid off more than it didnt.

Ryan sat up hand raising up to his face, expecting a mask or eye patch... only to meet fresh bandages.

Panic hit Ryan like a truck.

"Shit." Ryan cursed loudly as he went to stand only to flop over the side of the bed. "Fucking healing fatigue. Fucking legs, fuck!"

"Well good to see you're awake." Geoff's smooth drawl was cracked with stress and exhaustion.

The man was slouched against the door frame a cup of tea in hand. His hair was a mess and his eyes had bags that looked like they were dripping down his face

Ryan turned his face from Geoff's feet down to the floor on which his gave rested. A grumble was released into the floorboards then Ryan slowly picked himself back up onto the bed, his left eye still covered. Geoff shot him a knowing look as he stepped in and closed the door.

"Gavin and the lads are with Jack in the Kitchen looking for an update on you. Figured I'd be the first to talk to you." Ryan huffed as Geoff spoke with more authority than Ryan liked. It sounded too familiar.

Like a Scientist trying to get answers.

"Alright no need to growl asshole Jesus fuck." Geoff held up his hands in mock surrender and Ryan felt his shoulders relaxing a little.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Ryan hissed. "But I'm not some specimen to interogate."

"Well that answers that." Geoff said and Ryan tensed again. "Fuck right look I'm pretty sure a glowing black and purple eye ball ain't natural and yes we saw it you had a bullet in your eye and we didnt know it would heal on it's own. Dont care about that if you want it to stay covered it can stay covered. I'm more curious about Jeremy saying you fucking teleport."

"I can only teleport myself. Itd kill anyone else." Ryan said sheepishly as a sigh of relief escaped his lungs. "I can also take cubes of shit out of anything."

"People to?" Geoff asked, Ryan nodded. "Holy fuck what the hell kind of experiment were you a part of?"

Ryan shook his head and Geoff nodded.

"Right later if ever. Moving on, you alright?"

"Just tired. Healing takes a lot of energy." Ryan explained and Geoff nodded.

"Need water or anything?" Geoff offered and Ryan shook his head again.

"Burns. I'll just go out myself..."

"You sure? I'm sure the guys all have a million fucking questions." Geoff said as Ryan slowly rose up.

"Better now than later." Gwoff laughed.

"Fucking true. Though I have one more question." Ryan sighed.

"Shoot."

"Those sparkles Gavin's been collecting, do you make those?" Ryan laughed.

"When I teleport, Yeah. Dont know how or from where. But I do know Gavin has been using them on his nail polish and and eye shadow." Geoff busted out laughing as the two walked out into the penthouse living room. The lads shot up with Jeremy racing up to Ryan with Gavin close behind. A million questions poured out. But it was good.

#fahc #Sole Ender AU #fic #Ender!Vagabond #Its rough but Im on Mobile #the moment I get home im adding the read more and spell checking

[intothestarkerverse]

Time of Our Lives (Part Nine)

Based on a prompt from @geekymarvel  

Peter is tasked with an important mission that requires him to go back in time.   Finding himself at a gala for Stark industries in the 1990’s, he comes face to face with a young and incorrigible Tony Stark who considers Peter’s attempts to deny his advances a challenge.  Now, dogged by a horny young CEO who won’t take no for an answer, Peter’s task has become much more difficult….

(STORY CONTAINS ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Read on AO3

At first, Tony did not interrupt.  He wanted to commit every detail to memory, determined to learn where his future self had made mistakes and thereby avoid them completely.  He sat in stoic silence as Peter described everything he knew about Tony Stark’s life leading up to his capture by the Ten Rings and torture in Afghanistan.  It was a little sobering to hear Peter describing a lifestyle that was not entirely dissimilar to the one he’d been living right up to the gala where he’d first encountered Peter.  For some reason, he didn’t feel the same level of pride he used to feel at the use of the word ‘playboy’, and though Peter didn’t actually call him a jerk…because the kid would never, Tony got the distinct impression that everyone else in his life would probably choose that word first.

 Tony’s expression grew grim, darker and darker by degrees as Peter described his capture, his injury, and the operation performed by Yinsen to save him.  He found himself absently running a hand over his breast bone, flinching at the thought of the cavity that peter was describing, the small arc reactor.  Brow furrowed, leaning forward across the bed with a new intensity, he drank up the description of that first suit.  He had to bite back a grin at the thought and remind himself that he needed to hear the rest of his future before he ran off to the lab to try to duplicate the armor Peter was describing.  

It was good, really, that Peter had been such a huge fan of Tony Stark since he was a child.  He knew much more about Tony’s life than the average person from the 21st Century would have.  It made that familiar flare of jealousy flash through him, clenching his heart and making his throat feel obstructed.  He had to remind himself that the Old Man had just been training wheels to get him ready for the real deal.  He had pure, unadulterated Tony Stark now.  He didn’t need the old, watered down version anymore.

The betrayal of Obadiah Stane hit Tony like a physical blow, leaving him breathless and pale and clasping his hands into fists in his lap.  Sure, maybe Tony had depended on him just a little too much when it came to Stark Industries…apparently if he was going to be helping with the day to day operations all the way into the 21st century.  It was everything Tony could do not to immediately have the man removed from Stark Industries and detained for whatever crime he could prove and any he could frame him for…because he was guilty.  If not now, he would be soon enough.  At the moment, though, he wanted to hear more about his future than he wanted to put a stop to Stane.  For now.

The interruptions began with the birth of Iron Man.  Tony began to ask questions about the suit, about the heavy metal poisoning, about the Old Man’s escapades, his upgrades, and his enemies.  He was annoyed at the reappearance of Captain America.  “Oh, God, really?  That guy didn’t die, after all?  Too bad dear old dad bit the big one before he got to see Steve Rogers back from the dead.  He had such a hard-on for that guy.  I personally don’t see it.”

“Oh yeah, you’d never go for a super-powered goody-two-shoes on a mission to save the world, huh?”  Peter’s sarcasm was laced with a fair amount of self awareness that made the whole thing amusingly ironic.

Tony just scowled back at him.  “Please, Captain America is boring, and you, Beautiful, are anything but.  Now, back to the bedtime story, you little brat.”

The Avengers and the Battle of New York drew more interruptions.  Tony was a bit confused at the mention of Norse Gods and Incredible Hulks and, “21st Century Robin Hood sounds very counter-productive.  You really telling me he didn’t die on the first mission cause…that’s the most surprising thing you’ve told me so far.”

“Mr. Barton is pretty cool, Tony.  I mean…I don’t get the bow and arrow thing either, but it works for him.  And he’s got a sword now, which is also cool…”

“I don’t know if a sword is an evolution or a devolution, honestly.”

The wormhole drew a long sigh from Tony’s lips.  He pressed his fingers hard against his closed eyes and shook his head slowly.  “So, the Old Man…He just…I mean I get it.  I really didn’t know I had a latent Messiah complex, but I get it.  But that…that’s not where he died, huh?  Cause I didn’t hear any mention of you in that story.  Which means the Messiah Complex is an ongoing thing.  I blame Howard and the Captain America lectures.  I put no stock in psychology, but if I did…yeah, totally Howard’s fault.”

Peter just shook his head grimly and plunged on.  Extremis perked Tony’s interest more than it appeared Peter liked.  The kid seemed to be trying his damnedest to gloss over it…though those efforts were in vain.  Tony would be revisiting that particular piece of technology at some point very soon.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Tony’s exasperation was palpable.  “You’re telling me he blew up all of the Iron Man suits for the girl?  Seriously?”

“He loved Ms. Potts.”

“Well, if Ms. Potts loved him she’d have accepted that the Iron Man thing was important to him.”

“It’s not like it lasted long, Mr. Stark rebuilt them…”

“Good.”

Ultron drew a string of curses, all of them directed at his older self.  “I mean, sure, the concept sounds valid enough…but clearly the Old Man had forgotten all of the Asimov he’d devoured as a kid.  Basic Science Fiction folly, right there.”  Old Age was going to make him stupid.  Well, not stupid.  No matter what, no iteration of Tony Stark could or would ever be stupid…but he could definitely lose a few IQ points.

The Accords and ‘Civil War’ had Tony once more sitting in silence.  “Okay, it’s not that I don’t get it.  Cause I do.  If it were you…I’d do the same damn thing he did for the Winter Soldier guy…but…pretending that it was about the Accords and the world government so he could get the other goody-goody’s on his side…that’s the kind of self-righteous idiocy I honestly expect from that guy.  That they were all too stupid to see through it is really disappointing, honestly.  I hate that he’s every bit as holier than though as I always thought he was.  Ugh.  To fracture the Avengers just so he can save his friend…that’s so selfish that even I’m calling bullshit and you know it has to be bad, then right?  Why does the world think this guy is so awesome, again?  Ugh.  I’ve never even met him and I hate him.”

“He’s not that bad…”

“No, he’s worse.  Keep going, though.”

He sat up a little straighter when Peter entered the story.  Lips twitching in a smile at their first meeting, at the account of the battle on the tarmac.  “Ha!  You stole Captain America’s shield?  Kid, if I didn’t already love you…I’d sure as shit love you now.  The only thing I regret from the last six months is not seeing you kick more ass.  Honestly, Sweetheart, you’re a fucking bad ass and I find it so damn sexy.  When all of this is said and done, I’m going to figure out that Old Man’s armor and we’re going to have some fun making this world a safer place…cause I have got to watch you work.”

Peter turned a dozen shades of crimson, but his smile was very pleased.  “I’d like that.”

But first, they had to continue with the future history lesson.  Tony’s good humor was forgotten as Peter continued to tell his tale.  He gave the kid credit, though, he didn’t mince any words in the telling.

“So you had an entire fucking building dropped on you and fought some whack job on a moving plane in a pair of sweats because the Old Man was teaching you a lesson?  About what?  Responsibility?  That’s a riot.  You’re the most responsible person I’ve ever met.  Maybe if he didn’t have his head up his ass, ignoring your calls, sending you to middle management…Peter, seriously, the future is fucked.  I am not going to become this guy.  I don’t even think I like him.”

“I don’t think Mr. Stark liked himself very much, either, to be honest…so that actually…kind of makes sense.  But, you know, you’re not being fair to him.  He made a lot of mistakes, but he did a lot of things right, too.  Having a building dropped on me sucked, but it taught me a lot.  It was a lesson I needed to learn, honestly.”

“If you say so…”

“I do.  I do say so.”

They had to take a break before Peter delved into their trip to space and battle on Titan.  Tony poured him a glass of scotch that he sipped in silence whenever the story became too much for him.  Tony didn’t say a word at all until Peter haltingly described what it was like to vanish. Tony could do absolutely nothing to keep the tears from falling.  The idea of losing Peter was the worst thing he could think of, and though he didn’t much care for the Old Man or his methods…he knew that some part of him clearly cared for the kid.  Watching him vanish…that had to be soul shattering.  “The future is fucked, Peter, because I’m not letting any of this happen to you.  None of it.”  The promises were spoken through gritted teeth, a vein in his throat bulging at the sheer intensity of his determination.

Peter just gave a sad smile, “Too late.  Already happened.  Even if we change the future…I don’t think you can get rid of my memories, Tony.  Besides, if it hadn’t been me than it would have been someone else…maybe someone with kids or something.  I didn’t…I didn’t miss a lot when I was blipped out of existence.  May and MJ and Ned, they all blipped too.  Other people…they probably missed a lot,or they would have.  I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t want to stay if it meant someone else had to go in my place.”

“God, kid, forget too good for me, you’re too fucking good for this world.”  God, he loved the way Peter blushed when he got the compliment just right…

It was Peter’s turn to cry as he recounted what happened to the Old Man in the five years that Peter missed, about his marriage to Ms. Potts and his daughter, about the invention of time travel and the hunt for the stones, about Peter’s return and the final battle against Thanos.  “I’ve never…talked about this with anyone.  May tried to get me to…and Happy…but I just…they wouldn’t understand.”

By the end, Peter was on Tony’s lap, tucked against his chest, head resting on his shoulder as he cried and Tony whispered soothing words in his ear.  “It’s okay, Baby.  You can cry if you want to.  Long as you want to.  Cry.  Scream.  Whatever makes you feel better.  I got you.”  

“Still think I’m a bad ass?”  Peter’s voice was stuffy and muffled against his chest, but Tony heard him clearly enough.

“You’re the toughest, bravest, most amazing person, Peter.  So good.  Best person I’ve ever known.  Dad always thought Steve Rogers was the best a man could be, but that was because he never met you.  Steve Rogers volunteered for everything that was done to him.  He signed up for it.  You?  You had it thrust on you, accepted all of this responsibility that should have never been put on you…and you just carried it.  Gracefully.  You’re the definition of the word hero, Peter Parker.”

Peter let out a muffled laugh that turned into a sob that devolved into him clinging to Tony like his life depended on it.

Gently stroking a hand through the boy’s curls, Tony continued to whisper into his hair.  “The Old Man needed to be tortured and almost killed to want to become Iron Man, but all I needed to do was meet you.  You understand that, Beautiful?  The future, my future, is going to be better because you’re in it.  You’re the missing piece.  My missing piece.  Honestly, I feel sorry for the Old Man.  He had to go through his entire life never knowing what it felt like to be whole…”

—

Work continued on the Nullifier.  Tony was right, for once they did appear to be making headway.  After two more months of intense work. Two months of Tony secretly trying to compose a plan to keep the two of them together despite whatever these Stones might do to rip them apart.  Two months of Tony sketching plans for that armor whenever he thought Peter wasn’t paying close attention to him.  Two months of them savoring every moment together as they both secretly believed that it might be their last.  When the final simulations came back successful, there was nothing to do but stand in front of the computer and let the realization soak in.

“So that’s it.  We…fixed it.”

Tony gave the boy a sidelong glance, noting that he had not even attempted to hide his disappointment about that.  “Guess so.”

“So…it’s probably over, then.  Tonight…he’ll probably come and he’ll…take me away.”  Peter had his arms wrapped around his stomach, his tone grim, his face pale.  The sight was like a dagger to Tony’s heart.

“Hey,”  He turned around, tugging Peter closer and embracing him tightly.  “What did I tell you, Beautiful?”

“You’re gonna fight…”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, but…”

“Nope,”  He tilted Peter’s head up for a kiss.  “If you trust me, then trust me.”

“Do you…do you have a plan?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“So, no, you don’t.”

Tony just chuckled, “Baby, my plan is to stay with you, okay?  Don’t know how I’m going to do that yet, but I will.  When opportunity presents itself, I will.  We just fixed a machine that should have never worked, Kid.  We did something I thought was impossible six months ago.  Next to that…defying all of space and time to be together is going to be a cake walk.  Promise.”

But that night, when the two men were finally able to drift off to sleep, it was not Peter who found himself face to face with Tony Stark and the Infinity Stones.  

Not Peter at all.

There was no mistaking him.  It was like looking in a mirror.  An older, but no less attractive reflection of his own face staring back at him.  With a grimace of righteous fury, Tony charged the distance between them and threw a mean right hook directly into the other man’s face.  Too bad it was a dream and he wasn’t real, because there was nothing Tony wanted to see more than a black eye on that old, handsome face.

“What kind of sadomasochistic bullshit is this, Old Man?  Was this your plan all along?  You put the kid right in my fucking path.  Line of sight.  I couldn’t miss him, even if I wanted to.  And you knew!  You knew he had a thing for you all those years, you knew I wouldn’t be able to fucking resist that beautiful, perfect boy.  You determined to finally get to fuck the kid one way or another?  Was that plan?  Well guess what?  You monumentally fucked up…which, given your history is par for the fucking course with you, isn’t it?  Cause I love that kid.  I didn’t want to.  I tried not to.  But I love him.  For Peter…to keep him, I’d do anything.  I will do anything.  You and your fucking magical stones don’t have to give me a happy ending with him because I’m going to fucking take it myself and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Are you done?”  God, was it possible to hate even the sound of your own voice?  Tony scowled at the older man, at the sarcasm and the irreverence in his tone.

“You’re a piece of shit, Old Man.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I hate you.”

“Self hatred is nothing new to us, Kid.  You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Except I won’t, because I’m never becoming you.”

“We’ll see.”  The Old Man crossed his arms, eyebrow cocked, waiting in the silence.  When Tony didn’t venture to fill it with anymore bile, he continued.  “The Nullifier is done, so now we need to use it.  Peter can’t do that alone.  It’s too dangerous.  He’s going to need back up.”  As Tony inhaled, the Old Man held up a hand to silence him.  “Let me finish.  He needs back up, and while I know you think you can be that back up…you can’t.  You’re not Iron Man, yet.  You’re not Earth’s Greatest Defender, yet.  You haven’t fought aliens, yet, and me…I’ve done all of those things.  I am all of those things.  So, you’re going to let me hijack your body for a field trip to the Heart of the Universe.  That way, the Nullifier can be activated, the universe can be saved, and Peter doesn’t have to die in the process.  Everyone wins.”

“Like hell!  I’ve seen how possession works, Old Man, and I’m not letting you anywhere near me…”

“Than Peter is going to die.”

“What…”

A simple shrug of the shoulders and Tony was exercising a conscious effort not to slug him again.  “He does this alone and he dies.  Simple as that.  No way he can do this and come out the other side unless he has me at his back.  You can’t use the armor yet.  You don’t know how any of it works and REM is not enough time to teach you.”

“I can…”

“You can’t.  Believe me.  You can’t.  So what’s it going to be, Kid?  We’re running short on time here.”

Tony stood in silence, mind spinning.  His options did appear to be severely limited, but it was possible…however unlikely, that this was his chance to do the very thing he’d promised Peter he’d do.  Outsmarting his older self seemed incredibly unlikely, and from the look in the older man’s eye, there was already a great deal of suspicion between the two of them.  Wouldn’t a shrink have a hay day with that?  Maybe Tony had more issues than he thought he did?  Soft science or not, a therapist might not be a bad thing if he wanted to avoid becoming just like the Old Man in a few decades…  “All right, but I have two conditions.  No negotiations.  I want to remain fully aware and sentient to everything happening around us, complete access to you and what you’re thinking,…and I want a manual override.  Just one.  So that if at any point I feel like you’re doing something that could get us fucking killed, cause let’s face it…you’re really good at that, than I get to take over and exercise self preservation.”

The Old Man narrowed one eye.  “Don’t do something stupid, Kid.  You were never meant to meet him.  I gave you a gift…”

“You get to keep gifts.”

“Well, you don’t get to keep Peter.  He has a life.  He has a future.  Neither one of those involve us.  I’ll give you your awareness and your one manual override, but it won’t do any good.  When this is all said and done, you’re going to end up exactly where you belong and that’s not with Peter Parker.  You’re right, I did fuck up, I didn’t expect you to fall for him.  I thought you were too much of a self-obsessed asshole.  My mistake.  But Peter is going to back to 2023 and he’s going to become a hell of a hero without us.  Either one of us.  Keeping him with you in 1992 is not an option.  People need him…and in the future, you need to die.  It’s literally the only way there is a future.  It’s you against me.  You against the Stones.  You against the Universe.  This is one battle you’re going to lose, Kid.”

“We’ll see.  I’m not giving up just because you tell me to, Old Man.  I’m Tony Fucking Stark, and nobody tells me what I can and cannot do…not even Tony Fucking Stark.”  Because the Old Man had given him an idea.  Without knowing it, midst his self-righteous sass, he had given Tony the answer to the problem.  He’d been looking at things all wrong.  The Old Man was right about a lot of things, and that just meant Tony was looking at this the wrong way.  With a new outlook on the equation, the answer didn’t seem quite as hopeless.  What was it Peter had said to his parents, something about things only being impossible when you stop believing their possible.  

He knew what he had to do now.

He just had to figure out how the hell to do it.

—

Peter stirred in the bed, frowning in his sleep as his hands slipped across the silk sheets in search of the body he was now so used to finding himself tucked alongside in the morning.  When he encountered nothing but cold, empty bed, he forced his eyes open and peered around the room blearily.  When he spotted the figure in the chair beside the window, his frown only deepened and he pushed himself into a half-seated position, now fully awake.  “Tony?”

“Morning, Kid.”

Peter felt a chill prickle down his spine and he instinctively reached to pull the sheet up higher on his chest.  “Mr. Stark?”  There was no hiding the wariness in his tone.

“Gotta say, Underoos, I much prefer the last greeting to this one.”

“Lot’s happened since then.”  Peter’s gaze shifted to the floor beside the bed and he reached out to scoop up Tony’s shirt where it had been haphazardly discarded the night before in the throes of passion.  He felt better once he’d slipped it on.  A pair of boxers were scavenged from the floor as well and after contorting a little under the sheets, he no longer felt completely vulnerable in his mentor’s presence.  “How are you doing this?  How are you in Tony’s body?  What are you…what are you planning?”

“Baby Stark and I came to an agreement.  You need my help to finish this.  Neither one of us want you dead, and since you can’t do it without me…here we are.”  He made a half-hearted gesture to body he now inhabited.  Peter still looked pensive, regarding the man with more than his fair share of mistrust.  

“What…what are we going to do now?”

“Deliver the Nullifier to the Heart of Universe and reconstitute the Stones before the universe ends.”

“Wouldn’t you be better off with someone who’s good at space stuff like Starlord..”

“That guy’s a jackass.”

“Yeah, but he knows space ships and space and aliens…”

“You’re the only one I trust, Kid.  It’s you, or no one.”

Peter could no longer say the same.  He let out his breath in a little huff and nodded slowly.  “Okay…so…why can’t I do this alone?”

“The Heart of the Universe is a dangerous place.  It’s where the Infinity Stones were created, where life and the universe began.”

“The Big Bang?”

Mr. Stark nodded solemnly.  “We don’t do this just the right way…the energy from the Stones manages to pierce the Heart of the Universe and what we get is the opposite of the Big Bang.  Universe is over.”

Peter grimaced, “Than why are we using the Nullifier there…”

“Because the energy is almost there…and the space station is the best place to work from…”

“Space station…”

“The Heart of the Universe was discovered thousands of years ago by a race of aliens who called themselves the Celestial Order.  They constructed an entire civilization around it’s containment field and spent the last several millenia trying to harness it’s power so that they could force peace upon the universe and dispose of chaos once and for all.  They never succeeded in breaching the containment field…which is good for us, because they could have done some serious damage to the universe if they had.”

“Peace doesn’t sound so bad.”

Mr. Stark could only give a wry chuckle.  “It never stops at peace, Pete.  People always have good intentions, but they always end up giving in to selfish desires…”

“Kinda like you?”

“What did you just say to me, Kid?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, it’s just that…there had to be a better way.  Putting me here with him…you had to know how I felt about you.  You had to know how I’d feel about him.  I just…it’s not fair, is it?  Because now I have to decide and, Mr. Stark, I have decided.  Hard as it is.  I’m staying here.  With Tony.”

“Like Hell you are.  What about May and Ned, hmm?  How are they going to feel if you don’t come home?”

“I’ll come home.  I mean, I won’t be dead in 2023, will I?  I’d just be…well, I’d be a lot older, but I wouldn’t be dead.”  Peter had given this a lot of serious thought.  He knew what he wanted and he didn’t intend to take no for an answer…

“And the future?  If you’re here with him through all of that the future is fucked.”

“The future is already messed up, Mr. Stark.  Tony’s already so much different than you…”

“Is that so?  You really think you can change me that much, Peter?”  His laughter was actually bitter now.  “And what about Morgan?”

That had Peter lapsing into uncomfortable silence.  “I…I don’t know…”  He’d tried very hard not to think about her, because he couldn’t bear the thought of her not existing and for her to exist…

“You’re going back where you belong, Peter.  Back to the future.  Whether you like it or not.  You don’t get a say in this.  It isn’t a choice you get to make.  You don’t belong here.  You don’t get to be in his life because you were never supposed to be…”

“Than why did you put me here?  What good is it going to do to put me back when Tony has already changed?”

“Because Baby Stark won’t have changed, Peter.  Not when everything is said and done.  As soon as the Stones are reconfigured, as soon as they’ve been properly hidden, they’re going to enact a latent protocol I put into place to make sure the future remains unaffected.  The Tony Stark of 1992 is going to have his memory wiped, him and anyone else you had contact with that could alter the course of the future.  To Baby Stark, the last six months will have been a blur of sex and drugs and nothing else.  When he meets you recruiting for Germany, he’ll have no memory of ever seeing you before.  Jarvis, Fury, Happy…no memories of you that could alter the future.  It’s like you were never here at all.”

Peter felt as if he had been punched in the gut.  He struggled to catch his breath, bracing his elbows against his knees and resting his head in his hands.  He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a hand on his shoulder.  Jerking away from the touch, he shot an angry glare at the man.  “You don’t get to touch me.  Not looking like that.  Not after what you said you’re going to do.”

“I fuck things up, Kid, that’s what I do.”

“You know, I never really believed that until now.”

#starker

[elcorhamletlive]

MCU Rewatch: Spider-Man: Homecoming

(Doctor Strange isn’t making my life easy and I can’t wait for him right now lol so Spider-Man it is! I WILL include DS in this rewatch, though. At some point)

It’s really cool that the drawing tips us off that the Vulture has a daughter right on the first scene.

I feel like the second scene, though... is unnecessary. Like, seeing the Vulture with his suit kind of kills the impact of seeing him during the movie. We already know he’s up to no good - we didn’t need the extra scene.

Peter’s vlog is really cute.

“I don’t know how jobs work” is such a great dialogue. lol

Ok, I have a lot of... mildly negative feelings about several choices in this movie, but it’s hard to complain about the casting because of all the racist backlash it got for being diverse, and I don’t want to add to this chorus by any means. Still... the fact that Flash just doesn’t look like a popular douchebag really kills the effect of his scenes, to me. Like... couldn’t they find an actor that was, I don’t know, a little bit taller than Tom Holland? He looks like someone who would totally sit at Peter and Ned’s table at lunch, not like a bully that’s been harrassing Peter for years. There certainly were ways of keeping these aspects of the character and still having a non-white actor, I think.

Just... stop making people point out Aunt May is young and pretty. I get it, it’s a meta joke because we’re used to having her be an old lady, but boy is it annoying.

I do love the detail of Peter saving the cat.

This is the movie where my Happy annoyance goes off the chart. Shut up, Happy. He’s doing the best he can and all you do is dismiss him at every turn.

May totally thinks Peter and Ned are fucking, doesn’t she? lol

Laura Harrier, otoh, is perfect casting. She’s so pretty and she just really has the air of Liz’s general high school archetype. 

See, this Vulture arrival could have been so cool if we hadn’t been shown the suit in the first few minutes of the movie.

I feel like the fact that Tony handles Peter in the worst possible way in this movie (”because I said so” is soooo not an argument you should throw in a discussion with anyone, but especially not a teenager) is both something I like because I feel makes sense for his character and that frustrates me because it’s another thing his fandom just ignores.

“I thought it was the anti-gravity gun” really dude? Isn’t this scene supposed to show us how ruthless you are? This... is such a weird line that kind of totally undemines that.

“I just wanna thank you for letting me be a part of your journey” Ned is my favorite part of this movie. lol

Thinking about Flash... I feel like maybe the thing is that Flash here isn’t supposed to be cool at all, and it’s just that this version of Peter Parker is not an unpopular bullied kid, but a regular kid who’s actually well-liked by most of his classmates except this one asshole dude who no one else really likes? Which, sure, I mean, it’s a valid story to tell, but it’s just... not that appealing to me. I feel like Peter is not enough of the underdog in this movie, most of the time.

The scene where he stalls with Karen is really fun, though. lol

The scene at the Washington Monument is also really great. Lots of tension and really fun.

I fucking love how awkward Steve looks in those PSAs. I also love that he straddles the chair, because it’s such a non-Steve thing to do, so it really seems like he’s just trying to be cool, like “this is how kids sit these days, right?”.

Also, the director is Morita’s descendant, right? I hope the government was like “stop playing these PSAs” and he was just like “fuck that noise” and kept playing anyway in Morita’s memory.

“I got a nephew who lives here” I’m waiting, MCU.............. give us the pay off we deserve.

I have so many mixed feelings about the scene with Tony. On one hand, I get that this is supposed to be low point of the movie, so Peter screwing up makes sense, but... Tony, couldn’t you have TOLD him you had called the FBI? Why did you just say “yeah yeah, whatever, someone else will handle it” and then not update him about serious shit that HE had discovered? It’s weird, because I feel like Tony is framed as correct here by the narrative, and I really don’t think he is.

I do like the “and I wanted you to be better” line.

Peter and Liz are super cute. And the montage of May preparing Peter to prom is also adorable.

The Vulture reveal still works. It’s a GREAT moment.

“prototype for Cap’s new shield” is a line the Stony fandom has absolutely not taken enough advantage off. Tony just sitting around making Steve new shields? Even though they’re not talking? I live.

I... really dislike how Peter’s Big Hero moment is made to be about the whole “being nothing without the suit” thing. This... just isn’t his narrative? It just feels like the movie is taking Tony’s narrative and imposing it over Peter, and it feels like something we’ve already seen.

And the last scene... Part of me likes that Tony is like “that was totally a tough love moment that you needed, right? right????” because it shows a little how he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but I wish he had apologized. And the fact that he’s got the reporters room ready to go, when, by the Accords, he’d NEED to make Peter remove his mask... I don’t know, I really don’t like a lot of the narrative choices made with Tony in this movie. I think on this aspect, it’s worse than Ultron.

LOL AND THERE IS THE PROPOSAL. The world’s most awkward, anticlimatic proposal. Honestly, as a Stony shipper, I kind of love it, because it’s so bad it becomes incredibly easy to write around.

 Aaaand it’s over. Ngl, this is among my least favorite MCU movies. It just... doesn’t... touch me in any particular way? Like, I like a few things about it, but the overall narrative just doesn’t grab me. It’s not a BAD movie, but it’s a little... Meh.

#mcu rewatch #welcome to my most unpopular mcu opinion #mcu negativity #mild ship negativity

[skyblxssom]

Title: Justice never sleeps! Fandom: Ace Attorney Rating: K Word count: 2974

Basically my first attempt at writing something for AA. Recently played through the games all the way to DD, and fell head over heels for Bobby! A lot of the inspiration came from @windmaedchen-aa lovely art, specifically the office baby version cause I’m a sucker for soft interaction.

This piece is chock full of attempts on grasping the characters mixed with my own hearty sprinkling of personal headcanons. Also involves windmaedchen’s OC, Kid Fox! Thanks to them also for talking and bouncing ideas with me haha. Hope I did Kid some justice!  

Well, please enjoy!   

As always, Detective Gumshoe left his apartment bright and early, decked in his usual jacket that had been with him through thick and thin. While some had called it ratty, he personally thinks it added a sort of charm to it.

Regardless, he made the walk to the precinct. His apartment might not be all that maintained, but its close location in relative to the precinct made the blasted icy showers and creaky elevator worth it. Half of the time.

Gumshoe gave a wave at the clerk manning the front desk, flashing her his patented ‘pal’ smile as some of his coworkers dubbed it as. She returned it with a shy smile of her own, her face flushing slightly at his hearty chuckle. He took the elevator to his floor, and it was when he stepped into the office that something immediately caught his attention.

The detective blinked, his steps drawing him closer to the small lounging area set in the right corner of the open floor space. It was a cozy little spot where people tended to sit and chat away, or sometimes eat their boxed lunches at during lunch time. No one laid claim to the sofa, as it was a who got there first sort of situation, but he had to admit that this was the first time he saw someone actually sleeping on the old, somewhat lumpy thing.

It was even more surprising that the person was none other than Detective Bobby Fulbright. One of the more dedicated detectives in the Police Department, there was nobody in the precinct who hasn’t heard about him. He carried this sort of exuberance and positivity that – while annoying at times – was honestly so genuine that one couldn’t help but become fond of, or at least tolerate after direct exposure.

He was a prime example of someone who followed the law, but Gumshoe knows that he wasn’t inflexible. Detective Fulbright walked down his own path of justice that pretty much involved helping anyone that he was able to lend a hand to. He believed in the good of people, though that doesn’t translate to naivety. He chose to spend his time and effort to make the lives of the people better, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant it may be.

A detective that examined gruesome murder scenes that also helped the elderly cross the road was a bit of a whiplash, but that was just how Fulbright is. It is only just that he lent his support to those who could use it, for their job is to maintain the peace and to assure the public that crime would not run rampant in the city.

They don’t have to necessarily limit themselves to just investigating and solving crimes. Interacting and helping the common folk, ensuring that they are happy and able to walk down the streets peacefully is an act of justice in of itself, Fulbright had once told him.

He was usually whizzing about, doing his work and other things, so it was rather unusual – and slightly concerning – to see the good detective passed out on the couch. Fulbright had taken off his white jacket, using it as a makeshift pillow to give support that the arm rest can’t hope to provide. His aviator glasses were still perched on the bridge of his nose, looking dangerously close to sliding right off. The sofa wasn’t capable of holding Fulbright’s 6'0 frame, so one of his legs dangled over the edge while the other laid motionless by his side. His right arm rested on his stomach, his left hanging off the sofa.

Gumshoe leaned in a little, his eyes quickly taking in the little details. Even with the glasses, he was able to see the dark bags peeking out, showing that Fulbright had been missing on some good sleep lately. There was a hint of facial hair smattering his chin, pointing out that he had no time to shave. If Gumshoe remembered it correctly, he did hear on how someone helped to cover one of the officer’s night shifts due to them facing a family emergency.

Even if he can be a little slow on the uptake, it wasn’t difficult to connect the dots. Ah, it seemed that Detective Fulbright had extended a helping hand, essentially pulling double shifts because the man still performed his regular duties. It wasn’t not surprising then that he pretty much exhausted himself.

Gumshoe eyed him for a moment longer before coming to a decision. The professional thing to do would be to wake him up, but the kinder option was to let him catch up on some sleep. With that in mind, he carefully leaned over the couch, being super careful not to jostle anything as he drew the blinds shut. The mild furrow on Fulbright’s brow smoothed with the absence of light.

With his mind still whirling, Gumshoe briefly left the office. The detective soon returned with a blanket that they kept on hand, as well as a Blue Badger doll that was often used for safety announcement videos. Very gently, he draped the blanket atop Fulbright’s form, covering halfway up his torso. It wasn’t able to cover his legs, but it would provide him some warmth.

Gumshoes froze when he shuffled a little, looking like he was roused from slumber but Fulbright remained fast asleep. Heaving out a quiet breath, it was a bit like surgery on how precise he had to be in planting the Blue Badger by his head. He pulled his hand back, observed for a moment longer then sighed once more.

There was no indication that Fulbright realized what he did, though he nuzzled a little into the stuffed doll before settling. Gumshoe could feel the wide smile that tugged at his lips, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Right, he knew what they should do today.

When Ema entered the office that morning, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. Usually, there’d be some form of noise—idle chatter, loud phone calls and the like. She paused by the door, giving the area a general sweep. His coworkers were hunched over their desks, so the silence can’t be attributed to a lack of people. In fact, it looked like they were actively trying to do their work without making too much noise.

“What’s going on…?” She mumbled, looking a bit confused. Her expression must’ve given her away, as one of the detectives jutted a thumb to his right. Ema followed it—and then she understands.

She had worked with Detective Fulbright multiple times in the past. You’d think his sunny personality would clash with hers but she did find him as one of the better detectives to partner up with. His enthusiasm for justice can be rather overwhelming, but he more than makes up for it by showing genuine interest in her own excitement about forensic science.

Once she got used to it, there really wasn’t any reason to dislike him. Fulbright reminded her of a loud, tall puppy. Kind, eager to please and – as she approached the sofa to get a better angle – right now, looking rather adorable with the Blue Badger plastered next to his face.

Ema wore a faint smile. Poor guy must be completely tuckered out to even consider the sofa as a comfortable resting spot. She figured that everyone else wanted to let him rest, thus explaining their odd behavior. Heh. She didn’t think that some of the gruffer detectives would agree to it, but everyone seemed to content to leave him.

She gave him another once over, noticing that he was still wearing his glasses. As someone who had her own pair, that was just a recipe for disaster. Ema noticed the eyes on her when she bent forward. Just like how she treated a crime scene, she was being super careful in her act of removing his glasses. She held her breath, keeping check of his expression and only exhaled when she stepped back with it in her hands.

Ema fished in her pockets for her eyeglass case. Green in color with her name etched on top of the cover, she placed his glasses into it. While the lenses were a bit rounder than hers, it slotted in without much trouble.

With an air of accomplishment, Ema placed the case on top of the arm rest. Detective Fulbright continued to snore softly, oblivious to the world around him.

Idly, she smoothened out the blanket – like how Lana used to do for her during bedtime – before fully stepping back. Well, it was time for her to get to work.

She’d make sure to keep the Snackoo munching as quietly as she possibly could.

An almost silent air greeted Detective Kid Fox when she came in for work, sending her mind into overdrive on various possibilities. It was never this quiet, so there had to be a reason for it. How was the atmosphere? Did something horrible happened within the precinct? Were her colleagues in mourning? If so, how did it happened without her knowledge? A recent happening? Had that been the case, this place would have been buzzing with activity as opposed to near stillness.

Though, her trail of thought came crashing to a halt when a quick survey of the area landed her gaze on the little lounge area close to her desk.

The proverbial light bulb lit up as she reached her answer. Truthfully, Fox found it a tad odd that all of them were being so… considerate with sleeping beauty over there. Bobby slept on amidst the quiet compromise that the rest of his coworkers granted to him. He looked real cozy on that lumpy thing, what with the shutters drawn, a blanket draped over his form and—was that a Blue Badger doll that he was resting his head against?

It wasn’t what she expected coming into the office this morning, but Fox would be stupid to complain about it. If the rest were letting him sleep, then there was no real reason to disturb it. Besides, she thinks that Bobby should sleep in the office more often, if it gave her this silence. She did love working in quietude when she dug through old case files.

Knowing that this wasn’t something to worry about, and after another quick overview of the sleeping detective, Fox silently approached the sofa. Those shoes looked quite stuffy, so she figured she’d do him a favor by taking it off.

Fox moved quickly yet carefully in the process of tugging his shoes off. Doing so revealed that he continued to be a fiend to society by not wearing socks, but she didn’t let that bother her or anything. After his feet were free from its confines, she placed his shoes on the floor in front of the sofa.

With that out of the way, Fox went back to her desk, ready to tackle on the files whilst relishing this rare peace in the office.

Usually, it was the detectives that made their way over to the Prosecutor’s office to meet up with their partnered prosecutor when they’re working on a case. This time however, Klavier personally swung by the Police Department to see Ema, as well as take care of some other business within the building. He had been to this place multiple times, though the moment he stepped into the office, being met with silence wasn’t something that he expected.

Klavier wore a faint look of confusion, wondering about the reason behind this strange tranquility. He could see that the detectives were doing their work like always, but silently. Any form of conversations involved hunched backs and whispers. It was like they were actively making an effort to do things as quietly as possible.

Before Klavier could ask someone about this admittedly strange scenario, his eyes just so happened to spot the sleeping figure on the sofa.

Ah, that made sense. He could feel a small smile tugging at his lips. Klavier recognized the other, having worked with him a couple of times. Detective Fulbright always had this larger than life sort of personality; a brightness that drew attention to him like when he used to perform on stage with the Gavinners. Only with the detective, it was purely a solo gig.

Still, he found it mildly surprising that the other detectives were allowing this. It showed a camaraderie that he privately found to be quite outstanding. Clearly they looked out for one another. This might come across as unprofessional, but they cared more about Fulbright’s wellbeing to let him get sleep.

Now wouldn’t that be a good muse to write a song about? The tale of a tired detective who endlessly pursued justice, but could fall back into the support of the friends around him. That, or some form of rocking lullaby. Maybe taking the classic lullaby and putting a rock twist on it?

That was something he’d entertain more on later. Right now, he wanted to see the Fräulein detective regarding the case they were working on. Until he found the surprisingly amicable Ema, Klavier hummed a soft tune beneath his breath.

A gentle tug at his consciousness was enough to slowly rouse Bobby from slumber. Initially, he was in a groggy state of confusion, his brain taking its sweet time to boot up. Shifting slightly, he started to realize multiple things.

His neck felt stiff while the rest of his body resembled a giant ache. The surface he apparently slept on was not his bed—too small and lumpy. Slowly, he pried open his gummy eyes, blinking multiple times through the blurriness. In an absentminded gesture, his finger touched nothing when he tried to push up his glasses.

Bobby settled with pressing a hand against his forehead as he tried to recall where he was. The last thing he remembered was going back to the office at night to cover for Detective Russel’s shift because he had a family emergency to attend to. Then he decided to take a break when it was getting difficult to keep himself awake. Bobby shuffled to the sofa and laid down with the intention to get back up after a few minutes but—

Wait, did he fall asleep!?

That thought pierced through the fogginess and with it, a sudden rush of panic filled him. Bobby hastily tried to push himself up, which was easier said than done when his legs dangled over the edge of the couch. Something fell by the side of his face, but he didn’t notice it in his hurry to get up and get back to work--!

“Woah pal! Take it easy!” A familiar voice greeted him, which effectively halted his attempt. Bobby harshly rubbed at his eyes before he looked up to find Detective Gumshoe standing by his side. Wait, when did he get here? Wasn’t it supposed to still be the night shift?

“D-Dick?” Bobby uttered, the confusion noticeable in his voice.

“Yep! Did ya get some good sleep?”

“Sleep?” The detective looked around, finally noticing that it wasn’t night time after all. “Wait—how long was I asleep for!?”

“Well, it’s just about noon, pal! About time to grab lunch, so you woke up at the right time!”

Bobby felt something icy course through his veins. Not only did he fall asleep, he practically overslept! That was unacceptable! While everyone else was hard at work, here he was, sleeping like he didn’t have responsibilities in this department! Hardly a good example to show his fellow detectives, nor was it fair!

It was… it was unjust! Bobby sported a horrified look, hands gripping the side of his face.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry Dick! I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I promise I’ll get right to—“

“Hey, it’s fine pal!” Gumshoe interjected, placing his large hands atop his shoulders for emphasis. Bobby’s mouth snapped shut as his wide eyes looked into his senior’s kind ones.

“We knew you were running yourself ragged pulling double shifts like that. Of course it’s understandable that you’d just be out like a light! You needed some sleep, so we let you catch up on ‘em!” A hearty laugh. “I can’t imagine the sofa being all that comfy but hey, it’s better than the floor, I guess!”

Bobby felt his jaw dropped at his words. They knew he was literally sleeping on the job, and they left him be?

“But I’m missing out on work—“

“Which ya can get back to, after you’ve charged up.” Gumshoe wore a warm, friendly smile. “You’re real dedicated to your job, Bobby. One of the most hardworking fella I’ve had the pleasure to be friends with! You needed the rest before you risk worsening yourself. Last thing you want is to get sick!”

Bobby felt an assuring squeeze on his shoulder. “Trust me. Everyone understood it, which is why we’ve been working real quiet so you’d be able to sleep peacefully.” Another chuckle. “From the looks of it, seems like it worked!”

He was still processing everything, but one thing surged to the front of his mind—and made his eyes sting with tears. Bobby just felt… touched, that everyone seemed to have put in effort to let him sleep, even when they should have woken him up.

They… cared about him and his wellbeing. That thought alone made his lips quiver into a wobbly grin, the tears finally slipping out in a rush of happiness. Amidst Dick’s sudden worried questions, Bobby realized that he learnt something valuable today.

Justice never sleeps—but he needs to so he could be in good condition during his endless pursuit for it.

And preferably, back in the privacy of his bedroom and on actual bed.

#Ace Attorney #Bobby Fulbright #Detective Gumshoe #Ema Skye #Klavier Gavin #Hana writes stuff #this is a mess and a half but might as well jump into the pit guns blazing #i'll definitely be writing more pieces bout the good detective in the future!

[unpretty]

i lack self-control and there’s other shit i should be doing so it’s time for the first installment of

Let’s Read: Kraven the Hunter

Kraven the Hunter's first appearance is The Amazing Spider-Man #15 from August 1964, written by Stan The Man himself, which is how you know it's gonna be batshit. Every comic writer has strengths and weaknesses, and in many cases you kind of have to overlook those weaknesses to really enjoy the strengths.

Stan's strength is also his weakness, which is that none of his plots ever make any goddamn sense and all his characters come off as weird assholes, and whenever you finish a comic you are left with a vague sense that literally everything that happened in that issue could have been avoided if they'd just stopped being weird assholes for five seconds.

Some writers attempt to remedy this later. Those writers are wrong.

Stan Lee still writes the newspaper comic strip version of Spider-Man, as far as I know, and for years I thought those strips were just nutso because Stan Lee was old and out of fucks to give. Then I read some old-ass comics and realized that Stan Lee is just Like That, and always has been.

He also writes credits like these.

If there is a space where a man can reasonably fit more words, Stan Lee will find more words to put there.

Early Spider-Man comics feature a lot of weird old-timey bank-robbing gangsters? Like, straight-up Dillinger Gang motherfuckers. So anyway the issue starts with some old-timey gangsters, bla bla bla, the Chameleon bla, curse you Spider-Man, etc. We don't care about that part. What we care about is that the Chameleon (who is also, to be clear, kind of an old-timey gangster) decides he's gonna call in Kraven the Hunter to solve his Spider-Man problem.

Here are the first things we learn about Kraven, in order:

He's been in Africa, where he defeats terrorbeasts single-handed and with his bare hands.

He's a fucking hunk.

"You know what the ladies love? Rectangles. I’m gonna build a man entirely out of rectangles. For the ladies." - Ditko, presumably.

I know that what the creators were thinking was, 'let's give him an outfit like a circus strongman or something, to emphasize that he's tough', but what this implies is that Kraven the Hunter thinks this outfit is a good idea. He deliberately chose to dress like he got his wardrobe at the circus. Maybe he did! We don't know. Anyway never trust anyone who tries to take away Kraven's ballet flats and leggings because they are just as Iconic™ as his lion vest and I will not hear otherwise.

Okay but anyway the second thing that happens, after we learn all about what a fine cut of beefcake Kraven is, is that all of the animals Kraven has brought with him to New York have escaped.

This is not the only time this happens, presumably because Kraven has no interest in catching animals that aren't wily enough to try to escape en masse.

Since Peter Parker is on location to snap some sweet pics of Kraven's pecs, he makes an attempt to save the day, only to get beaten to the punch by Kraven before he can get his fucking pants on.

Just casually flinging some fucking cobras into a bucket, nbd. Hey, you know that weird fucking belt Kraven always wears?

Belt tusks. He wears fucking tusks full of drugs on his belt, in a constant outward stabbing position. Anyone who tries to remove Kraven's belt without Kraven's consent is getting knocked the fuck out. I mean he also has some Vulcan nerve punch shit going on, but more importantly, belt tusks.

Peter... please. You are a child. You are in high school. Control yourself.

I'd like to note that this was in no way part of any kind of 'fucking with Spider-Man' plan. There is no indication that Kraven even thought Spider-Man would be watching. This is just How He Do. However, Spider-Man was watching, and then had to leave to change into different pants again, meaning he failed to do either his hero job or his day job.

Peter. You should have had your camera out to take pictures of Spider-Man anyway.

Peter.

Did it seriously not occur to you to snap a single fucking picture while you were watching Kraven do sweet ape tricks.

Anyway here is where things really start to go sideways.

Now, personally, if I saw a dude save a bunch of people from rampaging gorillas, then refer to me as 'more beast than human' and 'the most dangerous game', I might consider taking him aside and letting him know that I am actually an orphaned teenager whose only family is an old woman with heart problems and also I get picked on in school. I mean, not to give too much credit to a guy who says 'man is the most dangerous game' without irony, but I'm pretty sure his stated goal of Kicking Ass is not furthered by beating up nerdy children. You don't even have to tell him your secret identity! Just show him your chin and explain how long you've been trying to grow a beard! This whole fight could be avoided and Kraven would go back to the Chameleon to laugh at him about how he got his ass kicked by a baby.

But this is Peter Parker, so instead of that he just regrets getting out of bed and considers building a nest in his bedroom and never leaving.

Incidentally, the b-plot of this comic is that everyone thinks Flash’s girlfriend Liz wants to bang Peter. His crush Betty is mad, Flash is mad, Peter does a lot of moping about how life is uniquely difficult for him and only him. His boss is mad at him, just because he didn't do his one and only job! A hot girl he likes is jealous of the other hot girl who likes him! It's hard and no one understands. I don't know if Stan Lee intended for this to be aspirational, or relatable content, but I'm kind of into it.

Either way, 'teenage boy would rather mope and then fight a grown man to the death than admit he's not worth fighting' is a pretty realistic beginning to a blood feud.

IT'S THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF A BULL ELEPHANT and also Kraven mentioning his total willingness to just drink weird shit in the jungle if he thinks it will help him punch better. Based on existing Marvel canon, I think it's totally possible that he drank something made from some kind of weird super soldier plant that exists in their universe. But also, if he had not specified Africa, I would probably assume it was coca. He seems like a guy who'd do a lot of coke and punch an elephant.

Also I'm pretty sure the Chameleon just gave him a bunch of articles from the Daily Bugle as research. SPIDER-MAN TERRORIZES CITY, SOMEONE PLEASE SAVE US FROM THIS MENACE, read headlines. "Yeah okay," says Kraven. FAMOUS HUNTER GOES NUTS AND TRIES TO KILL SPIDER-MAN FOR SOME REASON read headlines later this week. "What the fuck," Kraven will say.

Oh my god the best fucking part of this fight is that Kraven does one of his nerve punches and disables Spider-Man's arm, causing him to have to flail his limp arm around like a dipshit.

GOD I know this isn't what's happening here but I just really want Kraven to be trying to have a serious fucking fight with what he assumes is a grown man with the unholy powers of a spider, only to have a teenager furiously windmill his limp arms at him. Where is the Spider-Man comic we deserve about this.

Now, plenty of comic book villains are hypocrites, but rarely do you meet one as good at self-justification as Kraven. Bare hands! Mano-a-mano! Except, Spider-Man has spider powers, and that's cheating. Not like Kraven, with his drug powers. He got those fairly. But Spider-Man is cheating by having super strength, and the only way to level the playing field... is more drugs.

I love how consistently they use the word 'potion'.

"Look, this is totally fair. I, too, am on drugs." - Kraven, probably.

Incidentally, Kraven has from day one had this problem of being really weirdly sexually menacing. Bisexually menacing, even. Like, later comics writers absolutely used Kraven as a vehicle for their weird fetishes, but this has been a problem with Kraven from the start.

Kraven please listen to yourself.

GUYS THIS IS ALSO THE FIRST APPEARANCE OF KRAVEN'S NOT-BONG

YEAH THAT'S DEFINITELY A CARAFE, FOR THE TEA HE'S DRINKING. ABSOLUTELY IN NO WAY GIVING OFF MAJOR HIGH-VIBES. SITTING ON A DESK. Why is he sitting on a desk? Why is his leg like that? Why is he holding his cup like that? Is that bong on another, different table? Who arranged the furniture in this evil lair and why didn’t they put in more chairs?

Meanwhile Aunt May is trying to hook Peter up with her neighbor Mrs. Watson's niece. THIS IS THE FIRST MENTION OF THE ELUSIVE MISS WATSON. Right after Kraven's not-bong. Mary Jane is not named in this comic, she’s just the niece. Peter's lady problems with pretty girls being thrown at him continue apace, and he is as annoyed about it as ever. You know what else is annoying?

KRAVEN IN JJ'S OFFICE PROMISING TO KICK SPIDEY'S ASS

From Kraven's perspective this has to be just, the weirdest shit. OUR CITY IS BEING MENACED BY A MONSTER MAN, read headlines, while JJ's like "okay but don't break the law while freeing us from this reign of terror".

Kraven's clever plan is to let Chameleon pretend to be him, so that he can suckerpunch Spider-Man while Spider-Man tries to suckerpunch him. It's flawless.

"God, I'm awesome." - Kraven, literally just now in that panel.

Thanks, Stan. Every single word in these panels is very necessary. Thank you.

EVERY TIME I SEE THIS FUCKING PANEL I LAUGH MYSELF TO TEARS. KRAVEN LITERALLY MADE CHAMELEON PLAY THE FUCKING BONGOS TO DISORIENT THE ENEMY. THE ENEMY IS SPIDER-MAN SO IT FUCKING WORKED. PETER HAS NEVER BEEN SO DISORIENTED AS HE IS NOW, HEARING THESE SICK BEATS. WHY IS HE RUNNING LIKE A CONFUSED DOG THAT GOT OUT OF THE YARD. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FUCKING PANEL IS GOLD AND I WANT IT FRAMED.

I have turned off my caps-lock for readability but please know that there is a caps-lock on in my heart. My heart, which also knows that this is fetish gear. Kraven just put Spider-Man in magnetic manacles with bells in them.

I'm like 99% sure that at some point Kraven figures out that Spider-Man is Peter Parker, and when he does, I wonder if he ever does the math and figures out he put a high schooler in weird bell manacles.

GOD.

Anyway Spider-Man eventually figures out that HE CAN WEB UP THE BELLS. IT TAKES HIM LIKE THREE PAGES. HE'S JUST JINGLE JANGLING ALL OVER THE FUCKING PARK FOR, IDK, TWENTY MINUTES PROBABLY BEFORE HE REMEMBERS HE'S GOT WEBS. FUCK. That's when Kraven retreats because discretion is the better part of valor and you gotta know when to fold 'em.

What the fuck are spider beams.

God. What the fuck, Peter. Kraven's springs forth from the shadows with an action-packed punch and Spidey's just like HEY. CUT THAT OUT. EXCUSE YOU.

Why are you reinforcing the idea that you are an inhuman monster you fool.

He could have said... literally anything else. Anything. I mean, he's Spider-Man, so insulting his villains is kind of his whole deal, but like?? YOU ALREADY WON. YOU WATCHED THIS MAN SAVE A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE, INCLUDING YOUR BOSS AND LOVE INTERESTS. HIS ONLY CRIME IS TRYING TO KICK YOUR ASS, A CRIME OF WHICH THE ENTIRE POLICE DEPARTMENT AND FOOTBALL TEAM ARE ALSO GUILTY.

... also conspiring with the Chameleon. But like? Chameleon is implied to be a terrifying crime boss. You didn't even ask why he was conspiring with the Chameleon. You just assumed.

There's kind of this thing, which starts basically in this panel but which continues onward forever, where Kraven and Spider-Man seem to bring out the worst in each other? And part of it is that Kraven thinks Spider-Man is the Most Dangerous Game for some reason (possibly arachnophobia), but I'm pretty sure it's also that instead of just besting him in honorable combat like men, Peter insists on completely humiliating and mocking Kraven every single goddamn time. Starting with this one. Kraven kind of has a huge ego?? Being tough is his whole deal??? Peter said the exact wrong thing if he didn't want Kraven to come back for vengeance??????

But also Peter Parker is a teenage boy and Kraven is a grown-ass man who wants to hunt him for sport, and that's pretty goddamn terrifying. Covering fear with mockery is pretty par for the course. It just happens to be the worst possible thing to do to a man with a massive ego built around kicking ass who assumes you are a grown man who isn't human. Is all. It's a comedy of fucking errors, is what it is.

Anyway JJ rewards Peter for his pictures of the eventual arrest with a chocolate bar (WHICH HE KEEPS IN A FUCKING SAFE), and Betty apologizes for being so mean about assuming that Peter would want to go out with another girl, and proceeds to ask him out. Which he turns down, because he has a secret date with Mary Jane. But Betty foolishly assumes he has a secret date with Liz! Which is totally different from his actual secret date, which he is only going on to please his Aunt May. Life is hard.

Meanwhile KRAVEN IS BEING DEPORTED

to... South America? Apparently they just asked where they wanted to go, and then sent them there. Instead of actually sending them back to Russia. Which is a neat thing I guess the cops do sometimes instead of arresting people.

Hey, here's a question: WHY IS PETER RELAXING BY GOING TO THE FUCKING DOCKS IN COSTUME

So anyway, that's Kraven's first appearance. He shows up in New York to deliver some animals, saves everyone at the docks from gorillas armed with cobras, tries to rid the city of the webbed menace, and ultimately gets deported. It's a weird week for Kraven.

(Next Time, or, The Mess So Far)

#original #kraven readalong #kraven the hunter

[universallytreepeace]

Super Mario Bros Mac Download

Super Mario Bros. Is a classic video game that helped to launch a major franchise. It's game play elements and side scrolling action became a video game staple for years as other companies sought to emulate it, and hoped to capture some of it's success. Super Mario Bros. Is an all time classic that any fan of video games should love.

Jan 02, 2018  Download Super Mario Bros For PC Windows and Mac can be easily installed and used on a desktop computer or laptop running Windows XP, Windows 7, Windows 8, Windows 8.1, Windows 10 and a Macbook, iMac running Mac OS X. This will be done by means of an Android emulator.

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90’s kids will be able to relate with me when I say, ‘I grew up playing Super Mario Bros.’ Yes? Well, Super Mario Bros were one of the amazing games that I’ve ever played in my life. Back in the day, I used to leave everything just to play the game and god! The addiction was real. Well, I still want to play Super Mario Bros, don’t you? Would it be better if we can play it on our PC? Here are Super Mario Bros Download for PC.

There is no official way to get the Super Mario Bros download for pc, as the game was meant to be played only on Nintendo’s gaming consoles. Though the Super Mario Run has arrived for mobile devices, there is no word about the launch of Super Mario Bros download for pc.

Let us first dive into the nostalgic experience we all had with Super Mario Bros Download for PC.

Contents

4 Super Mario Bros Download for PC – Information

About the gameplay: Super Mario Bros

I guess each one of you must be aware of how, when and where the story of the game goes. The Super Mario Bros were developed and published by Nintendo in the year 1985.

This game was released as a successor to their best selling game known as Mario Bros, which was released in the year 1983.

The players are supposed to control Mario or maybe his brother Luigi (while playing in a multiplayer environment) and travel the world to find and save the princess.

During their journey in the Mushroom Kingdom, the players need to recuse the Princess Toadstool from the Browser (the antagonist).

Furthermore, during the whole gameplay, the players are supposed to dodge a lot of hurdles and have to conquer some of the enemies too.

On the bright side, Super Mario Bros also give the users with different power-ups as super mushroom, fire, and Starman.

If the player completes a level, he’ll be given with an extra life in the next level.

Super Mario Bros successfully managed to get its entry in the list of most successful and intuitive games of all times.

Additionally, Mario and Luigi need to collect several coins that are scattered randomly at different spots.

The game ends when the player gets defeated three or more times in a row either by the enemies or if the timer goes off.

For each defeat, the user loses one life at a time. Apart from that, if there is any power up taken up by the player, then the first thing that he’ll lose when defeated is his power.

Then comes the life. So it makes even more interesting.

Also, the enemies can be conquered using the power-ups, or by jumping on them.

Koopa Troopa retracts inside its shell when the player jumps on it, and the other hand Goomba gets flattened and therefore defeated.

The overall gameplay is divided into 8 worlds with 4 stages per world.

The final world will take you to the castle where you need to fight with the browser to rescue the princess.

Now, that you know each and everything about the game, it is time, to get to know about Super Mario Bros download for pc.

Super Mario Bros Download for PC – How to guide

Before proceeding further, you must know that no official PC version is available for Super Mario Bros. Therefore, exact replication of the Super Mario Bros can’t be produced on a PC.

But there are several ways by which Super Mario Bros download for pc can be possible. Let’s check those out:

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As the game was released way back in the year 1985, because of its low graphical and processing requirement the game file size is small.

And for that reason, some of the websites have converted into a playable format.

This playable format can be accessed from their website, and the users can play Super Mario Bros without any hassle.

But there is a lot of downsides to it; one being, the constant availability of fast internet is needed to stream the game, and the other is the frame drops.

So, this method may or may not work at best for you. You still can try searching for Super Mario Bros download for pc and find some links to the flash Super Mario Bros game via Google.

The next method would surely surprise you. If I say, you can install (sort of) the Super

Mario Bros on your PC? Well, yes you can. Sure, there is no official program or app made to be installed on the Windows or Mac versions of PC but, you can get an.NES emulator.

Super Mario Bros Download for PC – via NES Emulator

As the game isn’t available officially on the internet for PC’s, you can download the Nintendo file version of the Super Mario Bros.

This Nintendo version comes in.NES format.

The .NES format isn’t officially supported by your PC. and it even doesn’t recognize it at all.

Therefore, all you need to do is to download the best.NES emulator.

For that, search for the best NES emulator on Google, and there are a lot of free NES emulators available.

Make sure to scan the downloaded NES emulator using any antivirus program to ensure maximal safety and security.

Once the emulator is downloaded, install using the executable file.

Run the program and then within the program interface you’ll be able to see some options that will enable you to launch any game.

Go to the load game option and then locate the .NES file for the Super Mario Bros you just downloaded.

Now, you can play the game on the emulator easily.

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Super Mario Bros Download for PC – Information

Below we have mentioned all the details of Super Mario Bros Download for PC. You can read below:

How to play Super Mario Bros?

So far so good, the game will work smoothly with the .NES Emulator. There are still some things that you need to understand before you can enjoy the game at its limits.

First being, the controller setup.

Before going forward and jumping right into the gameplay, make sure that the controls are set in the .NES emulator.

Make sure to go to the options menu and check for the controller configuration. If you have an additional gaming controller, you can plug it in your PC and start playing.

Furthermore, if you don’t own a gaming controller, then you need to make sure that every key on your keyboard must be assigned to the controls that are needed for the gameplay.

Secondly, the graphics and fullscreen settings must be adjusted accordingly to make it easier for you to render the game properly.

Lastly, the sound settings may also need some tweaks. Sometimes, the default speakers fail to produce the sounds available during the running gameplay.

Make sure to tweak the sound settings properly to enjoy the game completely.

Super Mario Bros Download for PC – Issues

Macos high sierra dmg torrent. Sometimes, because of some errors the gameplay may be hindered and in turn ruining your mood.

Make sure to check the downloaded.NES emulator update. And to get the best out of the app make sure to keep it updated. You can also check for the update on the developer’s website if the automatic download protocol isn’t working.

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[unbealevable]

A LITTLE BIT OF BUTTER ➝ BECHLOE.

TAGGING ➝ Chloe Beale, Beca Mitchell.

LOCATION ➝ Beca, Chloe and Amy’s apartment.

TIME FRAME ➝ 2/6, evening.

WARNINGS ➝ Boobs I guess.

NOTES ➝ Chloe helps Beca with her new piercings.

BECA MITCHELL

“Ow… ow, ow, ow, ow, fuck!” She grumbled from the tiny bathroom, leaving the door cracked as she believed herself to be home alone. Her audible grumpiness carried even over the chill after work playlist she’d left streaming through the rigged bluetooth speakers in their bed/living room. 

Beca stood in front of the mirror in a pair of drawstring plaid pajama pants sitting low on her hips with her t-shirt almost pulled all the way off and hanging loosely around her neck. She frowned at her chest, now sporting two white gauze pads taped around her sore-as-fuck nipples, newly pierced. She had been trying to remove said pads for the past minute, but every time she tugged more at the corner of the surgical tape she yelped in pain. “Fucking Stacie,” she growled as her face screwed into a deeply concentrated and aggravated expression as she reached up to try yet again.

CHLOE BEALE

For the most part, Chloe’s somewhat generic date of dinner at a fancy-ish restaurant and then a movie back at his place that they hadn’t actually watched had gone pretty well. Right up until the end, anyway, hence Chloe now trudging with a frown toward the door of their shoebox apartment, grumbling petulantly to herself. She was pretty free with her body, but even she knew how unprofessional a giant hickey would look right there on the side of her neck at work, but Tinder Ben hadn’t listened, so Chloe had huffed and left.

It was kind of late, so with the assumption that her roommates were sleeping, Chloe entered the apartment as quietly as possible, surprised to see she and Beca’s pull-out bed empty. Taking note of the light spilling through the cracked bathroom door, Chloe dropped her purse down onto the bed, then began to shrug off her jacket as she floated toward the tiny bathroom. “Becs, is that you?” she called, pushing the door the rest of the way open without regard (when did Chloe care about privacy, after all?). “I don’t think I’m—” she trailed off, brows tugging tightly together as her eyes landed on the sight of Beca, almost shirtless… and with two big pads over her boobs. “Oh, what is that?” she questioned, walking into the bathroom to get a closer look.

BECA MITCHELL

Beca had been so focused on getting those annoying pads off to let her nips finally breathe after their traumatic afternoon that she didn’t even notice the door opening wider. “Dude!” she cried, turning her back on Chloe the instant her roommate had stepped inside. “Can you not?? I’m--I’m busy!” Her cheeks burned beneath the bright-as-fuck fluorescent bathroom lights when she realized Chloe probably saw her... situation.

CHLOE BEALE

“Oops!” Chloe jumped back quickly, though not so far that she actually left the bathroom. Considering the compact size of their apartment, she could toss her now discarded jacket onto the bed, though her focus remained on Beca. Her tightly knitted brows eased, until one had begun to arch a little bit, gaze sweeping over Beca’s bare back. She knew what she’d seen, even if Beca was trying to hide it now. “Bec, what are those things over your boobs?” she questioned, lips pulling inward to bite back her amusement. “Did you get nipple piercings or something?”

BECA MITCHELL

Ugh. Busted. Heaving a heavy sigh, Beca crossed her arms over her chest (to the best of her ability, because fucking ow) and turned back around. She sported a scowl as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Lost a bet to Stacie and… yeah.” Puffing out a hard breath, she cut a glance to herself in the mirror. “I’m supposed to take these gauze pads off but the tape they used hurts like a bitch and a half.”

CHLOE BEALE

Chloe had never been the best at holding back her reactions; they were always written plainly on her face, so right now was no exception. Her eyes widened at Beca’s admission, feeling a mixture of both surprised and, frankly, impressed. “Wow, what kind of bet resulted in...that?” she motioned vaguely toward Beca’s chest, gaze unabashedly dropping toward it in spite of Beca’s folded arms. It didn’t matter that she was still trying to bite back her amusement; that, too, was written all over her expression. “You had needles through your nipples and you’re worried about the tape?” Chloe chuckled softly, instinctively taking a step closer. She brought her gaze up to Beca’s face, head tilting slightly. “You want some help? I deal with this stuff at work all the time,” she paused, nose wrinkling in thought, “Not piercings, obviously. But I know what I’m doing, I’ll be super gentle.”

BECA MITCHELL

“Mario Kart.” Beca puffed out a hard breath and considered for a few beats. She’d always been super private about her own body, while some Bellas were borderline nudists. Even in tight living quarters, she’d always been mindful to change in the bathroom or at least keep her back to her roommates while swapping shirts.

Now, though--she needed help, and though her instinct was to stubbornly insist she could do it herself, the past few minutes proved otherwise. “Fine. Yeah. I guess.” She willed the color out of her cheeks but knew she was mostly unsuccessful in that endeavor.

CHLOE BEALE

Of course it was Mario Kart. Chloe didn’t really understand the game, she just liked to play the cute green character, but she knew how competitive Beca and Stacie got, so it wasn’t all that surprising. She only offered Beca a sympathetic smile, before dropping her gaze back down to her arm-covered chest. “Okay, you’re going to have to let me see, though,” Chloe urged, lifting her hands to reach for Beca’s wrists, though she paused then, taking a step back. “Actually, I have a really good tip for this. Hold on.” She held up a finger, signaling that she’d be right back, before dipping from the room to head for their fridge.

Returning with a tub of butter, she held it up to shake in Beca’s view. “Helps it slide off easier. It’s gonna be super easy, I promise you won’t even feel it.”

BECA MITCHELL

When Chloe dashed from the bathroom and she heard the fridge or freezer door open, Beca was kind of hoping she’d return with a large bottle of alcohol to help numb the pain. And then… she returned with the butter tub. Wrinkling her nose, she skeptically eyed the tub and then Chloe. “If anyone finds out I let you rub butter on my tits I’m gonna murder Stacie in cold blood.” With another huff, she dropped her arms to grant Chloe full access.

CHLOE BEALE

Stripping in front of her roommates was really nothing out of the ordinary for Chloe, though the same could not be said for Beca. If she wasn’t in work-mode right now, intent on making sure Beca’s experience was as painless as possible, she’d likely realize that this was kind of a big deal. As it was, though, Chloe simply shot her a reassuring smile, before pulling the lid from the tub.

“Our secret. Promise,” Chloe winked, scooping a little butter from the edge of the tub onto her finger, then stepped closer to get a better look. Lips twisting as she mulled over which corner to tackle, she reached out to carefully rub the butter over the edge of the tape, sweeping it around all of the edges and definitely not thinking about how she was literally touching Beca Mitchell’s boobs right now.

“Okay, super fast,” Chloe promised, bringing her gaze upward to meet Beca’s as she pushed her short nail beneath the corner of the pad. “Just a big bandaid.” Her free hand lifted to hold onto Beca’s shoulder in an effort to keep her steady, before she peeled the pad away with a quick tug, instinctively glancing downward to see the pierced result.

BECA MITCHELL

Something about Chloe’s wink hit differently this time, and Beca swallowed the lump in her throat. (Because she was anxious about the pain, right? Yeah. Definitely that.) She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose when Chloe’s fingers began spreading butter around the tape, biting down on her lower lip so hard she nearly drew blood. (Chill the fuck out, Beca. This is not a big deal.) 

Her eyes popped wide the beat before and then-- “Fuck!” Her free hand slapped over her mouth as tears stung her eyes just as they had during the piercings themselves. She groaned and grimaced. “Just--hurry up and do the other one before I lose my nerve.” 

CHLOE BEALE

Beca’s jolted reaction caused Chloe to grimace, offering her an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she pouted, though forced herself to keep her gaze from the exposed side of Beca’s chest and instead on the other pad. Just like she had the first one, Chloe spread the butter around the edges, then slid her nail under the corner. Without warning this time, figuring it was better to just get it over and done with, she tugged off the second pad. “There, all done,” she stated, fingers still curled around Beca’s shoulder, the tips brushing soothingly over her skin.

It was impossible not to let her gaze fall again, and while she noticed the marks from the pads, her focus was easily pulled in by the actual piercings. They looked understandably sore, but wow, they looked really good, too. Like, really really good.

BECA MITCHELL

Beca’s chest had always been annoyingly larger than her small frame would suggest, and the resulting jiggle from Chloe’s bandage tear caused another flash of pain to rush through her. “Holy shit. Might still murder Stacie in cold blood,” she mumbled, closing her eyes for a moment as the ache receded.

When she opened her eyes once more, she found… Chloe looking at them. No, staring.

Beca’s mouth went dry and it took her an extra second or two to find her voice. “Seriously? Eyes up, Beale.” She couldn’t resist casting a heatless glare Chloe’s way while her cheeks continued burning. But curiosity got the better of her and she turned a quarter way around to face the mirror, blinking down at her piercings once more. They still hurt like hell, but… okay, she didn’t hate them. “They look okay, I guess,” she conceded, glancing back at Chloe. “Thanks for the assist, Doc.”

CHLOE BEALE

“Mm, you might want to wait until you’re healed a bit. Murder probably requires a lot of movement,” Chloe teased, forcefully ignoring the part of her that wanted to reach out and touch. Just...to see what the piercings felt like, obviously. She only pulled her wide-eyed gaze away at the sound of Beca’s voice, dutifully bringing it up to Beca’s face instead.

“Just admiring your new piercings,” Chloe shrugged, shooting Beca an innocent smile as she leaned over to drop the removed pads into the small waste basket. She kept hold of Beca’s shoulder to steady herself this time, though let go once she’d straightened again. In the interest of being respectful, she chose not to look again, though she did glance briefly at Beca’s reflection in the mirror. “No problem!” she grinned, the name sending a shot of warmth throughout her. “So, you like them? They really do look good.”

BECA MITCHELL

“I guess they kinda fit my aesthetic,” she said with a shrug--wincing as soon as she did. (Note to self--stop shrugging for a while.) Carefully, she raised her arms to pull her t-shirt back down, pressing her lips together to bite back a whimper. Eager to turn the topic away from her sore-as-fuck nips, she cut Chloe another glance. She couldn’t stop her eyes flickering toward the notable bruise on Chloe’s neck. “Whoa, dude. Did you just hook up with Dracula?” 

CHLOE BEALE

“Definitely,” Chloe nodded, a part of her feeling relieved when Beca finally covered up. It felt super disrespectful of her to even want to look; it wasn’t like Beca drooled every time Chloe walked into their bedroom-slash-living room with nothing on, after all. This was easier, even if she knew a quick glance downward would show her the metal balls through the thin fabric of her shirt. Again, Chloe forced herself not to look.

More concerned about Beca than the mark on her neck before, Chloe had almost forgotten about it, but frowned as Beca brought it back to her attention. “Ugh, no,” she huffed, bringing her hand up to cup at the side of her neck. “I told him no marks. I definitely don’t think I’m going to be seeing him again.” Frown still wrinkled onto her face, Chloe reached for the butter, pushing the lid back into place. She turned to exit the bathroom. “You almost got the bed all to yourself tonight, but you can blame Tinder Ben for ruining that.”

BECA MITCHELL

“What a fucking asshole.” Rage bubbled in Beca’s belly when Chloe shared she told him not to but he did it anyway. Part of her wanted to find Tinder Ben and knee him in the balls. He totally deserved it. “Also a dumbass, screwing up a shot to spend the night with you. Hopefully he learned his lesson.” Relief washed over Beca, and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She should’ve been bummed learning she lost a chance at having the bed to herself, but instead… yeah, fuck Tinder Ben. 

Beca followed Chloe out of the bathroom, turning out the lights en route to said bed. She crawled beneath the blankets slowly, not wanting to make any sudden movements and risk more nipple related pain. “Sorry he fucked up your night.” 

CHLOE BEALE

“I know,” Chloe frowned, and while a part of her really was annoyed—because everyone liked a night of meaningless sex, right?—another part of her couldn’t help but feel kind of relieved. The sleeping arrangements in their tiny apartment weren’t exactly the most convenient, but Chloe liked her little pull-out bed, the one she shared with Beca each night. Besides, she’d been in a bad mood thanks to her date, and Beca had lifted that without even trying. “You know, I dated a guy named Ben before, and he turned out to be kind of sucky, too.” Her nose wrinkled as she placed the butter back into the fridge. “Maybe it’s a Ben thing.”

Making her way toward their bedroom area, Chloe shot Beca a small smile. “It’s okay, there’ll be others,” she reasoned, hands dropping to the hem of her dress to begin tugging it upward and off of her body. Unlike Beca, Chloe had no problems with showing everything off, so she didn’t care to hide, and only hummed to herself as she tossed the dress into the laundry hamper, then set out to pick out something to wear for bed. “You should take a picture of your piercings to send to Jesse,” she suggested as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. What a waste of a good matching underwear set.

BECA MITCHELL

Beca snorted. “I dunno. Does that make Benji the exception to the rule, or is your Ben luck just shitty?” A smirk curved on her lips as she settled the blankets over her lap. Her eyes popped wide as Chloe crossed the room and whipped her dress over her head without a second thought. Seriously, it wasn’t fair… Chloe had an absolutely perfect body.

Not that she was looking. Not like that, anyway. 

Heat prickled back onto her cheeks and she cleared her throat as she dropped her gaze to the phone in her lap, not really focusing on anything on the screen in particular. At Chloe’s suggestion, a grimace pulled across her lips and she shook her head. “Nah, I’m good. I texted him about them earlier though. He didn’t seem to mind, so that’s cool.” 

CHLOE BEALE

“Oh, no, Benji’s different. He’s a Benji, not a Ben. And he seems to be making Emily really happy,” Chloe sighed dreamily. For someone who was so content with meaningless encounters, she really was a sucker for a good romance, and seeing her friends in their happy relationships always warmed her heart. Mostly, anyway.

Selecting a pair of blue pajama shorts and a mismatched white sweater, Chloe began to tug both on, then turned toward the bed as she pulled her hair from beneath the neck. “Didn’t seem to mind?” Her brow lifted at that. “It’s your body, it doesn’t matter whether he minds or not.” Jesse was a nice guy; the very definition of Nice Guy, in fact… Of course he wasn’t going to judge. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth, you wanna set up a movie or something? Or are you tired?”

BECA MITCHELL

“Pretty sure they’re both Benjamin but whatever, weirdo. I guess Benji really is one of a kind.” She had always rooted for Benji and Emily, and it was pretty damn cute how happy they were. Stealing one more quick glance up to Chloe while she pulled the sweater over her head (and instantly berating herself for doing so--seriously, what was wrong with her lately??), Beca sighed. “No I know, I didn’t care about what he thinks I just--I’m glad he didn’t seem to care either way.” He didn’t ask for a pic, but she wouldn’t have sent one either. She scrunched up her nose once more at the prospect of a movie. “I was just gonna put a chill playlist on, but if you really wanna watch a movie that’s cool, too.”

CHLOE BEALE

She shot Beca a playful glare, but only shrugged in response. Either way, Tinder Ben would not be getting any of her attention anymore, and it really was not too much of a loss. Beca and Jesse’s relationship always kind of confused Chloe—if she was in a long distance relationship with Beca, Chloe would certainly have asked for a picture. Not that that hypothetical situation mattered, of course. Rather than respond, she simply breezed toward the bathroom. “Doesn’t matter, music or a movie. Whatever you want,” she chirped, disappearing to go brush her teeth and wash up for bed.

Chloe was serious, it really didn’t matter what they did, just as long as there was some kind of distraction from having to lay there in silence and think about the fact that she’d had her hands on Beca’s bare chest only moments before. She mentally cursed herself for replaying the scene over in her mind—it wasn’t like bringing up Jesse had been accidental, after all.

#char: beca. #f2f: beca. #f2f (2) beca. #thesickestbeats

[ask-fraustria]

headcanon collection;

i realised i don't have a lot of information or headcanon about my dear princess on this blog, so i put together a random list! all under the cut, and please note some of it is NSFW! if you’d ever like to ask me about my headcanon, send me an ask any time!

physical appearance;

if i had to describe her succinctly, i'd say she looks a bit like a european movie star circa 1930s, with her dark hair, sharp eyebrows, intense eyes and full lips. she's an old-fashioned beauty.

her eyes could be described as blue, but they're an unusual shade that doesn't really occur in ordinary humans, kind of violet-tinted. i usually compare them to lavender, forget-me-nots, cornflowers, hydrangeas etc.

she wears makeup, but being old-fashioned (like, 1800s old-fashioned), her main products are pale face powder, rosy blush (which she still calls rouge, or the german equivalent thereof), mascara, and maybe a little black kohl. the one thing she shakes it up with is lipstick, she has a lot of colours, from bright red to dark plum to soft peach. for events she'll break out a more complete routine, shiny eyeshadow and such, but she usually looks similar day to day.

she grows and paints her fingernails but files them down after a while so they don't disrupt her when she plays instruments. i think her skill level is high enough after centuries that it's not the bother it might be to a human, though- at least on piano.

she has moles everywhere. just the one on her face, but quite a few scattered all over her body. i forget where i place them all, but i usually put one near her collar bone, a few in her cleavage or over her breasts, some on her hips or near her belly button, near her wrists or the heel of her hand, her elbows, and scattered over her thighs and back. she even has some super secret...intimate ones?! she doesn't really have freckles, though.

for someone with dark hair and light skin, she's not especially cursed with body hair, though since she covers up often, she also isn't necessarily vigilant about removing it all the time. even if she's smooth everywhere else, one particular...place is generally...bushy. she feels naked without it...more naked. her eyebrows are pretty strong but very nicely arched.

she's quite short, 5'5'' at most. her legs are on the longer side.

she has a petite frame, but she carries a certain amount of pudge on it. she's pear-shaped with an impressive posterior, hips and thighs, a more slender waist but a little chubby around the midsection, and a soft, full bosom, but not really bigger than average.

clothing;

her wardrobe is fairly extensive. a lot of her clothes are vintage, since she takes very good care of them, but they can't last forever, so she does update. she especially likes other people to take her shopping.

that said, she sort of stopped modernising her style in the 1960s or so. fortunately, a lot of the old styles she likes have become enduring trends. she manages to make most of her fairly modest, old-fashioned outfits look rather stylish.

a big part of style is cut, though. she's not walking around in shapeless long skirts and jackets like an elderly lady. she knows tailoring and with her generous figure, a modest outfit is still appealing.

and she's not entirely opposed to sex appeal. she reserves it mostly for evening gowns and so on, but some of her dresses are quite tight, flashing cleavage or leg- not both, though, heaven forbid! well...maybe for a special occasion.

she's fond of business dress or business casual at least. she doesn't wear very casual clothes. she doesn't even wear trousers if she can at all avoid it. she's very much a skirt/dress person.

to bed, she either wears nothing, some kind of babydoll or negligee, or if it's cold, an old-fashioned long thermal nightgown. she has commandeered someone else's shirt or pyjamas on occasion...

she likes underwear, it's like her passion or something. she has an extensive collection of frilly things and she still likes a really nice corset and a pair of stockings. but you never saw any battered granny panties.

personality;

at first blush, she comes off either uptight and cold, or elegant and delicate. neither of those is exactly wrong, but her truest self is...eccentric.

she's highly critical, in an incredibly annoying, persnickety way that can just drive a person mad. but she's rather easily placated, or distracted.

her priorities are often skewed towards small details. everyone else might be running around in crisis, but she'll be complaining that the coffee is bad.

on the other hand, she often cuts through the nonsense of other people's situations and gets right to the point, so she's not a bad person to ask for advice. it's just that she might go off on a tangent and advise something...strange. why not get married? why not crash a battleship into it?

she's far from quiet, much more social and talkative than first appearances would suggest. it's just that most of that talking is complaining, or droning on about something no one else cares about. that said, engage her, and she's a witty conversationalist.

she has a wider circle of friends than even she realises. sure, most of them have been enemies too...but as a person, despite some annoying traits, she's quite charismatic and manages to be on good terms with a lot of people.

she's dominant overall in virtually every aspect of her life- she's even somewhat bold and passive-aggressive with her bosses. it's a prim, uppity sort of dominance, of course. things tend to go her way and if they don't, she'll pout. that said, she's amiable enough to let someone else lead if she's kept happy.

in the past, she was more apt to give a foolish boss a stern talking to, but she cooperates more peacefully nowadays.

sex and relationships;

she just plain prefers to be in a relationship. she won't necessarily admit it, but it's true.

even though she knows it would be a bad idea, a part of her would still like to marry again.

i won't call her exactly monogamous...but close to it, for a nation. she has her own weird sense of fidelity. she's a bit jealous, but not overly so.

on the other hand, she has had more lovers in her lifetime than the average nation, and she's sentimental. she seems to retain a nostalgic feeling about several of them.

on that note, she’s interested in both men and women with no specific preference in that way, but she does prefer her partner to be more “masculine” (not difficult).

she likes the other party to do any heavy lifting in the relationship- literally and metaphorically- but she likes to be in control, in a quiet (or not so quiet) sort of way. sexually, i'd describe her as mentally dominant and physically...lazy.

princess in the streets. also a princess in the sheets (don't touch her she's royalty). but you need to understand the subtle difference in uses of the word 'princess'... she usually won't allow PDA outside of a peck or gentle arm contact, but she's quite affectionate in private, though she likes the other person to initiate.

she has a reasonably high sex drive and enjoys it a lot, she's just high-maintenance in the way she goes about it. she likes to be given a lot of attention and care- on her terms.

in bed, she's cuddly to the point of being clingy. she's actually a pain in the ass when she's asleep, wriggling around and clamping on like a boa constrictor, but if you squeeze her tight, she might settle down. by herself, she's been known to fall out of bed!

as far as BDSM goes, she mostly likes impact play and discipline. she'll give out spankings and canings like a professional. but aside from that, she prefers lower-effort enjoyment, leading her to usually lie back and relax, so to speak. she'll even take a spanking when the mood is right (she has a perfect backside for it).

there was a point when she was young and just reaching adulthood that she really had an appetite, and had a number of flirtations, shall we say. around that time she got a lot of...fresh air and grass stains, and she has a lingering affection for risky locations. of course she's too responsible now to give in to that. honest.

misc;

she likes jewellery. she wears a plain cross fairly often, her favourite earring type is large studs, and she's in the habit of wearing a ring, just...because. but with different outfits, she pairs different pieces, often slightly ostentatious jewelled things. she likes rhinestones (like Swarovski), of course.

she officially gave up smoking, but she unofficially keeps cigarettes in her cookie jar and her bedside drawer. she has novelty lighters in the shape of violins and she prefers to use a long cigarette holder. unofficially. don't tell Germany.

can't wear heels higher than an inch or two. she's clumsy enough as it is. mornings are the absolute worst. she will fall over. no shoes necessary.

speaking of, she doesn't really care to get up before lunch. no one seems to want to accommodate that preference.

she likes a big lunch or brunch cooked at home and haute cuisine eaten out in the evening. she's really a gourmet, dessert always being her priority.

she's fond of animals, though not their mess. she likes cats, most dogs but especially lapdogs, pretty birds, squirrels (honestly) and most soft delicate things, like calves and fawns.

she's not the best pet owner, though, she spoils animals. she only has one cat at the moment. i would personally like it to be a Himalayan or a Ragdoll (for the colouration), but i can also see it being a Turkish Angora.

she carries a kind of big handbag with too many things in it. you never know what you might need.

she only cuts her hair to keep it manageable and styled, it's rather long and always has been. it's nice, thick, shiny hair.

a heavy sleeper despite consuming a troubling amount of caffeine and sugar. her biology is a mystery.

she has a very lovely speaking voice, and quite a lovely singing voice, too, if you're honoured enough to hear it. genuine laughter from her is incredibly rare, but when she does, it sounds like, as someone put it, 'a thousand Christmas bells'.

but when she's screechy yelling at you it's terrible.

#ooc #headcanon #nyo!austria

[fallenqueen2]

Mind Controlled Tony Stark

The 'what if' idea came to me yesterday. What if when Loki tried to mind control Tony in Avengers, his Arc Reactor stopped it, but the magic was still inside Tony so when he got it removed in IM3 the magic was still there? What if it came back to life when Tony found the spear in AoU?

“Tony, are you alright? You’ve been holding the spear for a while now…” Bruce asked the other man as he looked up from his own data to see Tony was staring intently at Loki’s spear with a blank look on his face.

“Tony, are you okay?” Bruce took his glasses off as he took a step towards Tony. The genius turned his head to look at Bruce who froze at seeing the unnatural blue that took over his eyes.

“Oh shit.” Bruce swore before he tossed himself to the side when he saw Tony raising the spear and the blue gem glowing brighter and brighter. An explosion of glass shattering echoed around the room making Bruce cover his head with his arms, forcing himself to calm down not wanting to let the other guy out.

He looked up and saw the others gathered at the foot of where their lab overlooked, they had confused faces on at the sight of Tony standing there looking down at them with Loki’s spear in his grasp.

Bruce scurried to his feet as Tony launched himself towards Thor, swinging the spear to blast the Norse God in the chest. Thor grunted as he was sent flying backwards.

“Stark what the hell?” Steve demanded as he ducked out of the way of a swing of the spear as Tony focused on him next.

“It’s the spear, it’s controlling him!” Bruce cried out as he clung to the frame that used to keep the glass intact.

“Nat, get ready to hit his head!” Clint swore colorfully as he noticed the shocking familiar blue in Tony’s eyes.

“How the hell did it manage to control him? I thought Loki had to be here for that?” Natasha ducked behind the bar to avoid a blast from the spear Tony was still wielding.

“Questions later!” Steve ordered as he grabbed a serving tray and rushed towards Tony to distract him of Natasha who was sneaking up behind him while Clint pelted him with whatever he could get his hands on. Thor was back on his feet with an odd look on his face as he took in the sight of Tony who moved gracefully and silently around the attacks of the other Avengers.

“JARVIS, did Tony set anything up for a situation like this?” Bruce asked the AI knowing Tony was always prepared for anything.

“Yes Doctor Banner, I will not initiate it however as it would end in Sir’s death.” JARVIS responded and Bruce scowled under his breath, he hated the way Tony obviously loathed himself.

“However the device to your right may serve your needs Doctor Banner.” JARVIS piped up making Bruce look to see some sort of stun gun sitting by broken glass. Bruce snatched it up and flipped the obvious switch. He balanced himself, swallowed hard as he took aim at his best friend and squeezed the trigger.

He blinked when a bright blue and familiar light hit Tony square in the back, sending the genius sprawling and the spear falling from his grip as he fell unconscious.

“Is that an Icer?” Clint asked curiously when Bruce joined them with the gun still in hand.

“Prototype it seems, but does the job obviously.” Bruce commented as he looked at Thor who had Tony cradled in his arms with an intense look on his face.

“Friend Tony must have come in contact with Loki before we won the battle in New York, that is the only way he could have been infected like this.” Thor said as his eyebrows furrowed together.

“JARVIS, did Loki and Tony ever come in contact with each other?” Bruce asked as he gestured Thor it rest Tony down on the part of the couch that had survived the fight.

“He did Doctor Banner, shall I queue up the video?” JARVIS asked as Clint swore under his breath and Steve tightened his fists as he looked at Tony with concern.

“Please do JARVIS.” Bruce nodded as he pushed the other guy back feeling him simmering with anger just below the surface.

Camera footage was projected on the wall across from the group taking their attention away from the unconscious form of Tony on the couch.

“Please tell me you’re going to appeal to my humanity.” Loki asked Tony amused as the two walked into the communal level of the old tower.

“Actually I’m planning on threatening you.” Tony said his voice echoing across the room as he walked down the ramp towards the bar.

“You should have left your armor on for that.” Loki gestured to the pad where Tony’s armor was disappearing into the pad with his spear.

“Yeah, it’s seen a bit of mileage and you’ve got the glow stick of destiny.” Tony pointed to the spear making Loki look down at it briefly as Tony moved behind the bar that hid his lower torso.

“Would you like a drink?” Tony asked curiously.

“Heh, stalling me won’t change anything.” Loki grinned.

“No, no threatening. No drink you sure? I’m having one.” Tony moved to make himself a drink, turning his back to the God while Loki stalked over to the windows to look out at the city.

“The Chitauri are coming, nothing will change that. What I have to fear?” Loki reminded Tony as he spun around to look at the other man.

“The Avengers…It’s what we call ourselves, sort of a like team. Earth’s mightiest hero’s type thing.” Tony said as he poured his drink, elaborating after the look Loki gave him.

“Yes I’ve met them.” Loki looked smug.

“Yeah.” Tony scoffed. “It takes us a while to get any traction I’ll give you that. Let’s do a head count here: your bother, the demigod.”

Loki made an annoyed sound as he turned to look back out the windows giving Tony a chance to slip metal bracelets around his wrists. “The super solider, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend. A man with breathtaking anger management isuses.”

Loki gave Tony a half smile at that one as Tony picked up his tumbler again. “A couple of master assassins and you big fella, have managed to piss of every single one of them.”

“That was the plan.”

“Not a great plan.” Tony swallowed his drink as he moved out from behind the bar. “When they come… And they will, they’ll come for you.”

“I have an army.” Loki reminded Tony.

“We have a Hulk.” Tony reminded right back.

“Oh I thought the beast had wondered off.” Loki asked curiously.

“You’re missing the point, there is no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us, but that’s all on you. If we can’t protect the Earth you can be damn well sure we’ll avenge it.” Tony ended his speech by taking a drink from his glass, his eyes cold as he looked at Loki.

“How will your friends have time for me… When they are so busy fighting you?” Loki stepped into Tony’s personal space as the spear whirred to life, Tony’s face flashed with fear as the tip of the spear tapped against his chest, a sharp ringing emitted from the point of contact.

They both stared at the spear in shock, Loki tried again but the reaction was the same.

“This usually works.” He said confused.

“Well performance issues, it’s not uncommon, one out of five.” Tony snarked making a face while Loki’s annoyance grew.

Loki violently grabbed the other man around the neck while Tony’s hands flew up to the God’s wrist out of reflex as he made a gagging noise cut off Tony’s words.

“JARVIS, anytime now.” Tony asked after Loki tossed him to the other side of the room before he pushed himself back up onto his feet. Just in time for Loki to choke him again, lifting him off his feet.

“You will all fall before me.” Loki told Tony their faces incredibly close.

“Deploy! Deploy!” Tony choked out as Loki threw him through the window and out into a free fall from the top of his own tower.

JARVIS cut the feed after that and everyone turned to look at Tony who was still unconscious.

“He took on Loki like that and got tossed out a window.” Steve said numbly while Clint ran his hands over his face, unnerved at seeing the footage of how close Tony had come to death repeatedly.  

“His Arc Reactor must have stopped Loki’s magic somehow, maybe the two elements cancelled each other out… But when he got his reactor removed that shield was gone so any remaining magic must have been laying dormant inside of his system until it was awoken by Tony coming into contact with the spear.” Bruce theorized as he knelt next to Tony, taking his pulse from his wrist while using the contact to keep himself and the other guy calm.

“In a strange way that makes sense… Do you think he is going to remember anything when he wakes up?” Natasha asked giving Clint a worried look as they both had been there when Clint was throwing off Loki’s control.

“I’m not sure, this isn’t like when Loki…” Clint pushed back the memory of his own mind control that had all come rushing back when he saw those unnatural blue eyes Tony had been sporting.

“Did I get hit by a truck or something?” Tony groaned as his normal colored eyes fluttered open, hand rubbing at them a moment later as he let out a pained noise.

“Tony, are you alright?” Bruce asked cautiously, but relief was sweeping over him at the sight of Tony’s normal colored eyes.

“I must have blacked for there for a moment or two, sorry if I scared you Brucie Bear.” Tony patted Bruce’s arm looking genuinely worried for the other Scientist. Bruce wanted to laugh and cry at the same time because this was such a Tony thing to do, take the attention off of himself and his pain and to make sure someone else was all right.

“So you don’t remember anything?” Steve clarified.

“Got it in one Cap, but uh what happened to the room? Was there a fight or something?” Tony took in the blast marks and broken glass.

“Or something.” Clint slumped with relief knowing that this incident wasn’t going to add anything else to Tony’s PTSD’s.

“Just rest Friend Tony.” Thor placed his hand on Tony’s forehead in relief while Natasha silently relaxed and sent Loki’s spear a glare, that thing had caused her and people close to her a lot of problems.

“Mkay…” Tony yawned as his eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled to the side.

“This is the on medical magic my mother managed to teach me…” Thor explained in a quiet voice when Steve quirked an eyebrow never having seen Tony fall asleep so quickly.

#the avengers #Tony Stark #bruce banner #thor #Steve Rogers #natsha romanoff #clint barton #JARVIS #Loki #mind control #AoU #Iron man 3 #arc reactor #FallenQueen2 #Fic #what if

[mx-writer]

Alfred (America) x Kiku (Japan)

WARNING(S): fluff and some sexual tension

You Should Know: I don't exactly ship this personally, but this is too cute not to write about it.

Prompt(s): Okay, so a really cute idea popped into my head... I went to Washington DC a few years ago, and I was talking with one of my friends that went with me. The famous cherry blossoms were mentioned, and we were sad that we didn't get to see them. Then, it hit me: Japan gifted those trees to America. So I imagined how that scene would go down with the personified countries. Also, I'm setting this on White Day, because that sounds freaking adorable.

If these themes and ideas make you uncomfortable in anyway, you really do not have to read.

Thank you!

   Kiku carefully set the sapling into the small, delicate pink pot. He smiled down at the plant nervously as he packed in the soil and fed it some water. He was worried about what Alfred would think of him after this.

   He removed his gloves, picking up the pot, taking a deep breath. I can't believe I'm doing this.

   Alfred had been visiting him for a few days now, and he planned on staying until the next world meeting, in about a month. Kiku really liked his visits, even though he could be pretty annoying at times.

   They're good friends, and with the recent... encounter with Ivan, Kiku felt he owed Alfred for all he had done, and, as selfish as it seemed, he wanted to keep Alfred all to himself. He wanted him really badly.

   Peeking his head around the corner into the lounge, he spotted Alfred resting on the sofa. This was his chance. Slowly, he stepped into the room, and approached the couch.

   "Alfred?" His thick accent was quite apparent, even with him speaking so quietly.

   The man on the sofa turned his head to face Kiku, flashing him a smile, "Yeah, Kiku?" His eyes flicked down to the pot in his hands, "What's that?"

   Kiku's face flushed as he stepped closer. He sat on the sofa with Alfred, a few feet away. He held out the pot to him, turning head to avoid looking at him, "H-Happy White Day."

   Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, "What's White Day?"

   Oh no. Kiku suddenly felt so stupid, face reddening even more, "I-It's, ah - " he retracted the pot, clutching it in his lap as he hung his head, voice softer than before, "It is a h-holiday celebrated a month a-a-after Valentine's Day. On Valentine's Day, females give chocolates to wh-who they like, and on White Day, males return th-the favor."

   Alfred sits there quietly. Is he really...? Did he just...? He scoots a bit closer to Kiku, causing him to flinch. Kiku looked so vulnerable in this moment. "Kiku? Is this your way of asking me out?" He spoke bluntly.

   Kiku snapped his head to look at Alfred, face a deep scarlet, "I-I - " he panicked, "I'm sorry! Forget this ever happened!" He went to stand up, but Alfred pulled him back down into his seat, now sitting right beside him.

   Kiku's breath hitched, avoiding eye contact. Alfred smiled at him, slinging his arm around his shoulders. He was tempted to say something stupid and make a joke out of the situation, but he knew better than to mess with Kiku right now.

   He placed his hand over Kiku's on the side of the pot, "What kind of plant is this?"

   Hesitantly, he responded, "Ch-Cherry blossom tree."

   Alfred's eyes widened, excitement filling his voice, "You mean those really pretty trees with the pink flowers that bloom in the spring?"

   Kiku nodded, a small smile on his lips as he stared down at the plant.

   Alfred leaned into Kiku's shoulder, "Thank you! This is really nice of you!" A long pause stretched between his words, "I don't have anything for you, though."

   Kiku shook his head, "There is no need. If you don't return the sentiment, then you shouldn't - "

   "What about a kiss?"

   Now it was Kiku's eyes that widened. He turned his head back to the man next to him, "W-What?"

   "A kiss." Alfred repeated, "Would a kiss do for a gift?"

   Kiku stared at him, steam practically radiating off of his face with how hot it has gotten.

   Alfred quickly averted his eyes, now embarrassed, "I know your customs are a lot different here than back home, so I get if you don't want that. Sorry that I mentioned it." He pulled his arms away from Kiku, resting his hands back into his lap.

   The initial shock finally wore off, and Kiku snapped back to reality, "You want to kiss me?"

   Alfred rubbed at the back of his neck, letting out a nervous chuckle, "Well, yeah."

   With a newfound courage, Kiku slid his hand over the back of Alfred's as it rested on his thigh. He lifted the hand to interlace their fingers. He mumbled out a quiet, "Then why don't you?"

   It may have been very quiet, but Alfred managed to hear it. His confidence suddenly returned, and he removed his glove from the unoccupied hand. He lifted it to Kiku's cheek, eagerly leaning in to press their lips together.

   Kiku sighed through his nose, shivering at the contact. When Alfred swiped his tongue over Kiku's lips, he stiffened, goosebumps forming down his arms.

   Alfred immediately drew back, "Sorry, Kiku, I - "

   Kiku pulled his hand out of Alfred's grasp, snaking both of his arms around his neck to pull him closer. This time, Kiku initiated the kiss, pressing a little firmer into him.

   Alfred's eyes fluttered shut again, moving to wrap his arms around his waist, fingers brushing against the potted plant. Smoothly, he moved the plant to a nearby table, quickly returning to Kiku's side to resume the kiss. He pulled Kiku closer to him. This time, as he swiped his tongue over Kiku's lips, they parted, and the kiss deepened.

   Kiku let out an embarrassing squeak into the kiss, now pulling away to hide his face in his hands.

   Alfred 'aww'd, grabbing at Kiku's wrists, "C'mon, don't hide. That was super cute!"

   Kiku muttered something in Japanese, refusing to remove his hands.

   Alfred chuckled, pulling at his wrists to wrap them back around his own neck. Their faces were really close again, noses almost brushing against each other. Kiku looked everywhere but Alfred's face, while the other only smiled, watching his eyes.

   With a mischievous glint in his eye, Alfred decided this would be a good time to mess with Kiku. He first leaned in to kiss him again, then, at the last moment, shifted to kiss his cheek instead. Kiku frowned at that. Slowly, Alfred trailed light kisses down to Kiku's jaw, then down his neck.

   Kiku tensed up, gripping at Alfred's arms, "What a-are you doing?"

   Alfred only hummed in response, now licking up the side of his neck. Kiku's breath hitched and he pulled away from him, placing his hand over his now tingling flesh, "Y-You - !" He didn't really know what to say he was so flustered.

   Alfred laughed, smiling proudly back at the red-faced man in front of him.

   They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Alfred's smile started to falter, "I didn't cross any lines, did I?"

   Kiku vigorously shook his head, "No, no, no! It's okay!"

   Alfred let out a sigh of relief, "Oh, good. I was worried there for a minute."

   Forcing some more courage into himself, Kiku leaned forward, grabbing at the base of Alfred's neck, and kissing the other side of it.

   Alfred chuckled, placing his hands on Kiku's hips, stretching out his neck to expose more skin to Kiku. Kiku placed soft, light kisses down his neck, then back up. Slowly, he started to leave wet, open-mouth kisses, making Alfred shudder. Kiku lightly sucked on the skin of his neck, a hushed moan slipping between Alfred's lips. Kiku smiled to himself proudly, kisses becoming a bit harsher.

   Alfred bit his lip and gently pushed Kiku back. He then pulled the smaller man into his lap, chuckling at the shocked and embarrassed expression on his face, "This is okay, right?"

   Kiku nervously nodded, pulling at his kimono to get more comfortable on his lap. He felt really awkward, straddling Alfred like this, but he also kind of liked it.

   Alfred pulled Kiku back into another kiss, this one more heated and passionate. Kiku moaned, holding onto Alfred's shoulders a little more tightly. Alfred slid his hands down his back, but flinched when he worried he had gone too far. So, instead, he placed his hands on Kiku's hips, to avoid the temptation of wandering any further. Kiku huffed, shifting his hips. He let himself indulge in the moment, perverted thoughts swimming through his head. He tried to reel them back, but couldn't help himself.

   Kiku pulled out of the heated kiss, instantly hiding his face in the crook of Alfred's neck. He knows he shouldn't think like that; it's far too early for anything like that to happen yet.

   Alfred wraps his arms around Kiku's smaller frame to pull him closer, chests pressed together. He could barely feel it, but he noticed a rapid heartbeat slam against Kiku's ribcage, as if his heart was trying to bust out to get closer to Alfred's own heart. He smiled at that thought, kissing the side of Kiku's head, "You're mine now, right?"

   Kiku nodded, "H-Hai... as long as you're mine."

   Alfred's smile widened, "Deal."

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, or have any critiques, please let me know! If you want a continuation, spam me until I write it. I actually kind of want to continue this, set it farther into the future, and write some smut, haha. Like I said at the top, I don't exactly ship them, but this was a lot of fun to write, and I think it turned out pretty cute. If you have any requests, please feel free to contact me!

#japan #america #alfred #kiku #hetalia #axis powers hetalia #alfred x kiku #kiku x alfred #japan x america #america x japan