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STORYTIME MEME
OKAY, so, for reasons that do not need exploring at this juncture, I have been pretty much DEAD for writing purposes for the past...while. Like, excepting Yuletide, I've written exactly one story since early 2009, when I posted my last bandom longfic. Which, ugh, cue guilt guilt shame shame NOT CONTRIBUTING TO THE FANNISH ECONOMY WHY DO YOU SUCK SO MUCH, SELF? -type spiral of unproductive feelings, eurrgh, please exit to your left, o ye haters.
BUT. I am graaaadually getting back into the fannish swing of things, by which I mean that I am feeling like I might like to write something again EVER, which is pretty thrilling. And yet: blocked on absolutely everything I have ever started ever.
SO. We're going to play a game that goes like this: you comment to me and say something like hey, M, tell me about the time that Tony Stark accidentally dyed his hair blue, or hey, what about the time Jake Jensen wore women's clothing on a bet, or but what about that time that Amy Pond met John Watson and they totally made out?
And then I try to write it! for values of "write" that contain an awful lot of handwaving and FOR REASONS OF PLOT. This is STORYTIME, not fic-writing time; High Literature Hour has been cancelled due to inclement weather and a shitty acronym.
FANDOMS: Avengers/Captain America/Iron Man, the Losers (but preferably movieverse, because I like it when everybody lives), Doctor Who, Pride and Prejudice, Friday Night Lights through s1?. Anything else I've written or capslocked about is potentially up for grabs, but those are probably your best bets.
BUT. I am graaaadually getting back into the fannish swing of things, by which I mean that I am feeling like I might like to write something again EVER, which is pretty thrilling. And yet: blocked on absolutely everything I have ever started ever.
SO. We're going to play a game that goes like this: you comment to me and say something like hey, M, tell me about the time that Tony Stark accidentally dyed his hair blue, or hey, what about the time Jake Jensen wore women's clothing on a bet, or but what about that time that Amy Pond met John Watson and they totally made out?
And then I try to write it! for values of "write" that contain an awful lot of handwaving and FOR REASONS OF PLOT. This is STORYTIME, not fic-writing time; High Literature Hour has been cancelled due to inclement weather and a shitty acronym.
FANDOMS: Avengers/Captain America/Iron Man, the Losers (but preferably movieverse, because I like it when everybody lives), Doctor Who, Pride and Prejudice, Friday Night Lights through s1?. Anything else I've written or capslocked about is potentially up for grabs, but those are probably your best bets.
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So he's walking along the street, maybe by Central Park, because at least that can't change too much? And there's a woman there, sitting on a park bench, and she smiles at him and pats the seat next to her. Steve sits down, because he's a nice polite young man, and maybe a little because she reminds him of Peggy, all curls and lipstick and what they used to call 'spirit'.
"It does get easier, you know," she says. "Or, well—you get better at it, at least." He starts to ask her what she means, how she knows this feeling, but he doesn't need to, not really, because her smile is the smile he sees in the mirror, some days: lost, a little, or maybe stolen, or just strayed off from where he thought he'd be.
"You have an ETA on that, Ma'am?" he asks instead, and she throws back her head and laughs, rich and delighted, the sun catching in her hair.
"Oh, I like you," she says, catching his hand in both of hers. "I like you immensely, Captain Rogers."
"Ma'am," he says, for want of another response, and stands when she does. She's tiny, deceptively so, all out of proportion with the size of her smile and the glint in her eyes.
"If I promise to have you back for dinner," she says, smiling up at him, "will you come on an adventure with me?"
"I'm off duty until Monday," he says, and lets her hook his arm into hers.
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Oh man, I love River and Steve bonding over being people out of their own time. And then Steve just going along with her without asking any questions.
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(By which I mean that if it had been the Doctor - in any incarnation! - the answer would have been a resounding HELL NO. Not that Steve doesn't like the Doctor, once he meets him - he does! Just, there's a difference between somebody who's out of the right time because that's just the way life goes, and somebody who's there on his own recognizance, and River's a lot closer to Steve's understanding and situation than the Doctor is)
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or about Natasha Romanoff topping the hell out of [insert character here/the universe].
or about Rory Pond being a badass made of marshmallow!
or something.
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And she thinks for the longest time that Cougar doesn't like her, like maybe Cougar doesn't get the whole sparkles thing - which, whatever, she can totally be a kickass motherfucker and still like sparkly nail polish - and then she realizes that, no, Cougar just doesn't actually talk that much to anybody. With Jensen, in fact, Cougar is downright expressive - it's just all in her eyebrows and the tilt of her hat and the corners of her mouth.
Which all comes to a head when they're out at a bar and a douchey dudebro tries to cruise Jense - which obviously she is not opposed to, in principle, but she and Cougar were having some serious quality poker time, okay, and you don't mess with that shit - and Cougar maybe sort of breaks the guy's wrist (and Jensen maybe does a number on his ankle) while still not having any facial expressions at all, and they they hightail it out of there and collapse against a wall in a filthy gritty alley, laughing until they can barely breathe at the memory of the guy's dumbstruck expression, and maybe they wind up making out up against the wall, because, obviously, who else was it ever going to be?
[And Clay is the scariest motherfucker EVER (with the exception of Lady!Roque, of which more anon) - she's just completely no-nonsense and "get it done" while simultaneously picking up boytoys in every town they go through, usually these teeny little emo boys with tons of piercings who follow her around like she hung the moon, and Jensen is like, man, do they realize that you could literally snap them in half? And Clay just grins and says, that's half the fun, Jenny.
(Which makes her taking up with Aicha - Ahmed, maybe, in this verse? - even weirder, because even on first glance it's apparent that this one is capable of doing more than just writing creepy lovesick poetry at her.
He's good with a knife, though, which is a point in his favor.)
Roque is just terrifyingly hot, and also TERRIFYING - basically exactly like Aicha in the regular verse, but turned up to eleven and with the full force of the law on her side.
And Pooch, oh my god, Pooch is the only sane one in the bunch, she's the stereotypical lesbian who moved in with her sweetie on, like, the third date, and they're so in love it's freaking adorable, and it in no way prevents Pooch from being a daredevil pyromaniac.]
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Tell me about the time Tony Stark caught Steve making out with a lady.
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And Tony would just say, okay, fine, that's his long-lost love, Peggy Carter, dude's hung up on her - except this picture is in color, okay, this picture is clearly very much recent, this picture has Steve in the suit that Tony designed for him, okay, so Tony is totally within his rights to want to know what the fuck is going on.
Except, no, okay, he's really not, he's a goddamn adult, he can totally do this, he can be a decent human being if he absolutely has to! and so instead of storming up to Steve and demanding to know what the fuck happened he just...focuses all of his energy on finding out who the hell the girl is, okay, not creepy at all, it's only a little weird to read her MA thesis on superheros in the modern American consciousness (which, huh, is actually not that bad, he especially likes the part where she calls him a brilliant response to the techno-saturated world, but he can't read her chapter on Captain America, because, no).
She teaches High School history in a NYC public school, which is just freaking perfect, and Steve gave a presentation to her class and they're going to have gorgeous charming world-saving children and that is just fine, okay, Tony can handle that, it's great. He's actually really proud of myself - it's, what, maybe 9:45, and he's already managed to completely come to terms with this new and distressing development, he is totally growing as a person, take that, Perez Hilton - and then Steve comes into the kitchen and sees the picture up on Tony's tablet.
"Oh," he says. "I didn't realize - is there an article?"
"It's very tasteful," Tony says, passing the tablet over, "no speculation about a wedding date - hey!" because Steve totally just spit coffee all over the tablet, which, what the fuck, not that it can't stand it but there are lines, okay? There just are.
"Wedding da - Tony, what are you talking about?" And so Tony explains, whatever, gorgeous perfect charming world-saving children with 4.0 GPAs and family dinners around the kitchen table, it's fine, it's cool, the mansion was getting a little crowded anyways - but Steve just shakes his head.
"Tony, she's going to tutor me," he says, and sure, yeah, Tony's had plenty of 'tutors' in this time - except that, no, Steve clearly means it, because he's flushing in that "I really wish I were any good at lying, because that would be a lot easier" way that he has.
"Tutor?" Tony says, like he's not a multi-millionaire with other words at his disposal. "I - what?"
"Tony, the last time I checked, we still had 48 states," Steve says, tilting his head. "I think it's safe to say that I need to be caught up on a few things. Miss Velasquez was kind enough to let me audit her class."
"Oh," says Tony, as the facts settle back into place into his head. "Okay, but I still get all of the technology stuff, right?"
"Of course," Steve says. "I don't think anybody else would dare," so that's okay.
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And then they go for coffee and then they date and they work really well together, obviously, because they may not understand each other's passions all the time but they both know what it is to be passionate about something, to love your job so much that you feel like the top of your head is going to fly off. They like to listen to each other, even if they don't always one-hundred-percent understand the issues at stake, and they're good for each other - they stress about slightly different things, so they can usually talk each other down. and also they make each other laugh and the sex is fantastic and sometimes she can get him to wear eyeliner, just for her, and basically it's really good.
And then sometime late their junior year they're talking about housing for the next year - they're both off campus already, but neither of them love the situation they're in, so in between him offering to just physically move the car that keeps blocking her in to the driveway in the morning and her threatening to hose his roommates down with a power washer, they wind up deciding to move in together! They're both kind of breathless and overwhelmed once the words are out in the open, because they want this but they're not sure if it's too much, too soon, too big for the two of them to handle - but before they know it they're visiting apartments (he vetoes anything where they won't have space to grill, she vetoes anything that doesn't have a room with a door that she can use to study when he's driving her up the wall), and then they're applying for the lease and picking up the keys and getting his teammates to haul the futon they got for $25 up the tiny, rickety staircase.
Their apartment is tiny, of course, because they're college students in the city, and it's not perfect - sometimes they're both too busy to breathe, and his parents don't quite approve, and their upstairs neighbors smoke way too much pot - but they sit on the porch together and drink beer and listen to the game and things are pretty okay.
OTP OF MY HEARRRRRRT, ugh, how are they so perfect, EXCELLENT PROMPT IS EXCELLENT.
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Hmmm well I'm not familiar with any of those fandoms BUT YOU SAID JOHN WATSON so I am leaping on that.
You should tell me about the time someone (accidentally?) discovered one of John Watson's well-hidden kinks...
♥
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Oh god, so John goes out - on a date? or just to the pub? - and comes back and Sherlock just pins him in the entryway with a look, stares at him for an age, then frowns and starts talking.
"You met somebody - lipstick smear on your neck, plus that vaguely vacant look in your eyes, signs of post-coital idiocy. You definitely got off - you're not erect, and the weather's not cold enough to have a significant impact, not if you only went to the corner, which you must have because you were only gone for an hour and a half - ten minutes' walk each way leaves you an acceptable amount of time to pull."
John swallows, which, knowing Sherlock, gives away everything.
Sherlock's eyes narrow. "But you didn't have intercourse - historically, you only have intercourse in public if you've had more than three drinks, but you don't drink more than two drinks an hour unless you're thinking about the war, in which case you spend the evening in, not trying to pull. So," he says, stepping back. "Sexual completion, but not intercourse - you think fellatio is degrading and won't ask for it, clearly preposterous - which means that - " and suddenly he's back in range, grabbing John by the wrist and raising his hand to sniff at it. "Yes, as I suspected, manual stimulation - her first, and then you, but not extensively - I had no idea you found it so arousing to finger a woman, John." With that, he steps away, nodding with satisfaction, and flings himself onto the couch.
"Not," John says, at long last, "not just women."
Sherlock's eyes go wide. "There's always something, isn't there, Dr Watson," he says, and his smile is like a knife.
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I LOVE YOU KIND OF A LOT
hgnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnghafalskdajsldkasdaksdasdasd
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...but, no, that's not the whole of it, because John Watson gets off on fingering, full stop - with dudes, with ladies, with people who decline to identify as one or the other; as the giver, as the receiver, as both (sequentially or at the same time). He just likes it.
(which is actually an even MORE relevant data point, so.)
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