#also a dick

[maskedjoker]

I think the earl wears the mask because he wants to avoid all the creeps who want to bone and just stalkers tbh. The older I get the more I desire to wear weird cloths and avoid people seeing my face or frankly perceive me in general. If I had that kind of power and looked that good Id live alone and dress like a freak in public too

[forestwater87]

Tigger & Eeyore: Camp Campbell and Beyond, Ch. 13

I know it’s been 13 months, and I have nothing to say for myself . . . except that if it wasn’t for @raenbowsofficial this probably would’ve taken another year (Also, the title’s song comes from here, and makes me want to cry every time I hear it. Strongly recommend.) 

Chapter 13: Landlocked

Summer 2017

David hadn’t been to The Only Bar in almost a year, and nothing about it had changed one bit.

The last time, he and Gwen had been meeting Bonquisha, smuggling an irritated platypus between them. But when his eyes flicked by instinct over toward that booth, it was empty, of course; Bon-Bon was working and Gwen was back at camp. And yet somehow that emptiness, that strange sense of knowing something and still half-expecting the opposite, stuck in his ribcage like a missed step, causing him to stumble over the lip of the seating area and lurch awkwardly into the pink-haired waitress who’d appeared at his side. “Y’all right there, Davey?” she asked, catching his elbow even though he’d already regained his balance and flashing him a brilliant smile.

He cleared his throat and straightened, feeling strangely exposed under the openness — and obvious sympathy — in her eyes. “Yeah, Clem. Just tired, I guess!” He gently tugged his arm away and ruffled his hair, trying not to look around the half-empty bar. As though he could ignore the reason he’d come down here through the power of determined avoidance and —

“Dave!” The voice was smoother and louder without the comforting tinniness of bad reception, and David’s shoulders ratcheted up a few inches toward his ears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, managing to relax his posture just in time for a large, warm hand to clap around his shoulder and shake him lightly. “I was starting to think something happened to you, man!”

Clementine watched the two of them, her eyebrows twitching upward and her lips pressing into a thin pink line. “I’ll get you boys something to eat,” she said, quickly turning back toward the bar.

“Oh, no, we don’t need —” Before he could finish protesting, she’d strode away, leaving him unmoored in the sea of empty tables with Lee Santos’ hand on his shoulder.

“Think she likes you,” Lee said casually, leading him to a table in the very back, seated near a cheery but stiflingly warm fire. A beer and a Shirley Temple were already waiting for them, sweating in the warmth. “You’ve been here for years, right? Did you ever —”

“No!” David replied too loudly, sliding into the seat. He cringed and tugged at his bandanna, looking around surreptitiously. “I mean . . . no. And you shouldn’t — don’t say things like that.”

Lee frowned, mimicking his cautious glances with exaggerated ones of his own. There was this twist to his mouth, one corner of his full lips that tipped just slightly higher than the other, that gave his expression a perpetual smirk. “She have a scary boyfriend who’ll kick the shit out of us or what?”

“Well, I don’t know.” (He did know, the way everyone in Sleepy Peak knew everything about everyone else. Clementine had two gerbils and was hoping to get a dog, but no boyfriend as far as he’d heard. He prided himself on being considered part of the town, even if he didn’t live here year-round.) “But you should be more polite or you’ll get a reputation.”

The smirk faded slightly from Lee’s face, replaced with an incredulous half-frown that reminded him so sharply of Gwen that it felt like an ice pick between his ribs. (His fingers twitched on the table, the urge to pull his hands to his chest curbed at the last minute and with great effort.) “You’re kidding.”

“We’re not in the city,” he muttered sullenly, slouching further in the booth. “People remember faces. And bad attitudes.”

Lee rolled his eyes, reaching for his beer. “Christ, fine. Small town bullshit, right?” When David didn’t answer, glaring at his Shirley Temple like it had personally wronged him, he continued, “Got your drink,” flicking two fingers toward the offending soda.

There was something conciliatory in his tone, and David’s eyes darted up to Lee’s before returning to the cherry floating listlessly near the bottom of the glass.

“Was kinda weird ordering it. Haven’t had one of those since . . .” He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those.”

If it had been anyone else, he would’ve considered offering him a taste. Counselors couldn’t worry about germs, after all; it was an occupational hazard, and David considered himself more or less immune to getting sick, anyway. But instead he just took a long sip, keeping his gaze on the damp ring on the table where it had sat.

(It would’ve been rude not to take it, since it had already been ordered on his behalf.)

“Y’know, there was a little while there I thought you were gonna leave me hanging.” Lee’s voice was almost imperceptibly softer — an uncertainty he would’ve never picked up on if he hadn’t had almost five years of experience of snagging shreds of vulnerability underneath an attitude of aggressive disinterest.

Of all the things David had expected, the family resemblance was the most unpleasant surprise so far. He shoved the thought away and took another long drink. “It’s a long drive.”

Lee chuckled, smooth and warm and masculine, and David’s stomach twisted in jealous irritation. “No kidding. This place seriously is the middle of nowhere, isn’t it?”

He was spared having to come up with a reply to that by Clementine, who dropped a plate of stuffed peppers onto the table with a little more force than perhaps was necessary. “Be careful, fellas!” she said, directing a thin smile in his direction. “It’s real hot still.”

They both mumbled thanks, Lee looking oddly chastened. The expression didn’t let up as Clementine hurried away, though his gaze did follow her retreat for a few lingering seconds before snapping back to David. “I don’t think she likes me very much,” he said, his voice low but fizzing at the edges with humor.

David didn’t trust it. “Well isn’t that odd?” he replied lightly, keeping his gaze on the peppers so his voice wouldn’t waver. “Clem likes anyone, unless they give her a reason not to.”

There was a moment of silence, then a heavy sigh. “I guess I deserved that.”

He made a small noise of agreement but didn’t look up, picking up a pepper and fiddling with it absently. Gwen always said the food here was too bland, and near the end of the summer she’d dragged him to the general store and cooked for him on the contraband hotplate she’d sneaked into the cabin, which —

— was not something he was going to think about right now. Maybe ever.

Keep Reading

[tonyloveseverybody]

r.e. job offer

Prompt: Call T.S. r.e. job offer

Verse || Earth-1048 {aka} Spiderman PS4

Warnings || n/a

Word Count || 1305 words

Side Notes || I really have been wanting to follow up on this note and after a little research I found it this is actually roughly the only mention of Tony Stark in Earth-1048 but apparently it’s assumed Tony Stark is like Earth-616 Tony Stark due to the fact we know he is Iron Man because of not only the Avengers tower being present in the game but also a small crossword puzzle Easter egg. It may just be me pulling at strings but I thought the concept of an actual job interview hosted by Tony Stark would be fun for many reasons. So here we are. 

r.e. job offer

So turns out the dumpling incident wasn’t a one-off incident, after attempting to take up cooking, Peter found it very difficult to actually keep up in the line of cooking as a career. It demands whole days of work and then the rush hour. 

Oh god the rush hour.

He found fighting the whole sinister six at once easier then a rush hour. And he’s done it before. Even if that left him with fourteen broken bones and an apocalyptic New York City. But he still did it. That has to count for something right? Gold star for effort?

So a cooking career wasn’t for Peter. Cooking was meant to be like chemistry, which he was good at. But it wasn’t. It was more than exact measurements and exact cooking methods.

Stir for five minutes, allow simmer at low degree for ten.

In a kitchen it was chuck it in, let the flavors have a brief meet and greet, set it on fire and somehow result in a two hour recipe completed in half an hour. Maybe MJ thought his curry was good, but customers of restaurants he worked at didn’t share that same line of thought.

The career also cut into his time put aside for his hobby. He couldn’t be Spider-Man when expected to wake up at four every morning and leave at twelve every night. He tried. 

The sleep deprivation ended in nine stitches and the ugliest bruise on his rib cage because he could hardly throw a punch, let alone dodge. 

He needed a new job with more flexible hours that also allowed him keeping his job. And Peter remembered Tony Stark’s offer. 

The offer occurred at some science convention, himself and Doctor Octavius  attending and once again desperate for funds and grants. Peter needed to be paid, it was the best shot they had. It just so happened Tony Stark was in attendance and had taken a shining to Peter when Otto had briefly left to grab some coffee.

Peter would’ve been in awe if he was normal, but let’s face it, Peter Parker had fought beside Tony Stark a few times and had ended up bickering with him even more times, so Peter was hardly impressed. 

“You know.” Tony began, smirking slightly as he pushed down his glasses slightly “For a twenty-three year old Mr. Parker, you may as well be smarter than half of the scientists in this convention.”

God he was such an asshole, Peter had to hold back the eye roll. Tony Stark’s ego was bigger than it should be. But at the same time he was somehow still humble. Peter sometimes forgot the man went through a lot. But what hero hasn’t been through a ton of crap. 

“Thanks, but I think everyone is smart in their respective fields, Mr. Stark.” He clips back.

This only caused a brief chuckle as the male pressed a small pad on his watch “I like your attitude, I’ve added my contact to your address book... If you’re interested, I have a job for you Parker.” 

“Thank you, let’s hope I don’t dig myself too deep to end up at Stark Industries.” Parker replied dryly.

Tony pressed back his glasses and simply gave him a lazy smile “I’m not the one begging for grants.” He pointed out before strolling back.

By then Otto had come back with two coffees, passing one to Peter “Was he interested in giving a grant? Maybe an investment?” He asked, hopeful at the idea of support from Tony Stark and Stark Industries to back him up.

Peter scoffs and shakes his head “Nah Doc, he’s only here to gloat.”

Funnily enough when Peter had got home he quickly scribbled down a note, sticking it just underneath the newspapers and promptly forgot about it. 

A year later, the sticky note was long gone, along with the majority of his belongings due to eviction. Thank you New York. But Peter was scrolling through his contacts, by now used to the crack that stemmed from the corner of the screen when his eyes caught the number listed as ‘Tony Stark’ and he clicked on it, raising an eyebrow when catching the small note ‘get a stark phone, parker.’. 

“I think I like my iPhone a little better.” He muttered with a frown. But he did need a job like one Stark Industries would offer him. Stable income, flexible hours and something that his degree was actually qualified for. Regardless he dialed the number.

A week later, Peter sat on an unforgiving couch, his hair pushed back and begrudgingly pulling at the hard and stiff collar, pulling at the knot of the tie that threatened to choke him. He needed the job, he needed to not crash on Mj’s couch every second night. He needed stability that went hand in hand with the job that didn’t pay. He needed to be able to open a fridge that had more than half a bottle of arizona iced tea and three eggs. How many times had he found refuge on some high building in a long untouched corner?

“Mr. Parker?” A women asked, she smiled at Peter and honestly, he didn’t even notice at first the women had a metal exterior. That was FRIDAY, the A.I. who had served Tony for a long time. Peter had read plenty of articles about the constant robot conflicts. Robots deserve rights as well, right? 

“Mr. Stark will see you now.” 

Peter stood up and nodded with a brief thank you before following her through into the spacious office to come face to face with the CEO. Briefly, he watched FRIDAY leave, the door closing with a soft click. 

“Please, take a seat.” Tony said, not even looking at the other male, rather focused on the skyline of Manhattan and Peter couldn’t help but feel it was on purpose more than the fact the other didn’t actually care.

“Yes sir.” Peter abruptly spoke, almost stumbled as he walked towards the chair, pulling it out and sitting down. The two didn’t speak for a moment and Peter took the moment to shift, pull the chair in more.

Finally Tony Stark turned around and smiled “So how deep did you dig anyway?” The other asked with a smug tone.

Peter could kick himself, part of him wanted to stand up and exit right then and there but he needed job pretty damn badly. “Deep enough, my last boss became a super villain.” Peter replied dryly. His last boss in this field. But considering how much he was paid by his recent string of bosses, they may as well be villains as well.

Tony laughed and nodded “I saw, Spider-Man did good job at stopping him.” He pointed out.

Peter nodded, feeling a surge of pride for his secret identity. But it hurt, it hurt to see Otto spiral like that. It did a number to Peter. Regardless he nodded “Yeah, I don’t know what we would’ve done without him honestly.” 

Tony nodded in agreement “Yeah, I mean if I was around though, I’m sure there wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.” 

Peter had to bite back a string of curses and he breathed out “I’m not sure, I mean, everyone is better in their respective fields, it was sort of a Spider-Man job, I mean, it was a pretty large amount of super villains that are mainly his nemesis that terrorized New York.”

“I suppose, but it was a year ago anyway, a lot has happened since then. It doesn’t really matter now. Anyway, on to more important things then my hero gig, as cool as it is.” Tony remarks and Pete clenched his fist.

God this man pissed him off.

“What makes you think you’d be a good candidate to work at Stark Industries?”

[isabellaofparma]

i’m not a model the camera just turned on by itself xoxo

[platypusbutt]

!

[sweetpeadede]

My new bb, formally known as padme but also responds to pad Thai

[nowwheresmynut]

AU where time does reverse, Hannibal gets a second chance to do it right, does everything wrong again though, because he’s a cannibal and a monster.

[complexinferiority]

circles and lawn mowers