pretty.” Tony cocked his head to the side and watched as black tresses cascaded
over his shoulder and side. He tapped at his lips, which were painted ruby red,
then traced his eyes. His eyes were large like some anime character’s and his
lashes were thick and lush. He palmed his chin and cheeks. Soft as baby skin
and twice as smooth.
“Who said you could look at
yourself yet?” Rhodey grabbed Tony by the arm and drew Tony back to the bed
where Rhodey had spent the last hour and more adding extensions to Tony’s hair
and applying makeup to Tony’s clean shaven face.
Piles of blush, eyeshadow,
lipstick and many cosmetics slid across the bedspread as Tony landed on the
mattress. Rhodey grumbled as he stood behind Tony and took a comb to Tony’s
hair. He snatched a few bobby pins off the bed and held them in his mouth as he
“I didn’t actually think you
could do it. I was prepared for a disaster, but I actually look like a girl. A
flat chested one at the moment, but a girl nonetheless.”
“I told you I have sisters and
cousins, didn’t I?”
“That just tells me everyday is a
battle for hot water and private time, not that you’re actually good
at this kind of stuff.”
Rhodey rolled his eyes. He gave
Tony’s head a particularly rough shove forward then did some braid-y-thingie
with Tony’s hair.
“I had an emergency makeup artist
on speed dial and everything,” Tony mumbled.
“And aren’t you glad you don’t
have to call them? Your adventure tonight is going to be a secret between the
two of us.” Rhodey thrust out his pinkie at Tony.
Tony grinned and hooked his
pinkie around Rhodey’s. “What are we? Five?” he razzed Rhodey. He loved the childish
act though. It soothed the part of him that was still scared Rhodey would
betray him one day. He’d known Rhodey for a few years now, and Rhodey had
always been by his side even when he was at his worst. Even so, he’d been
burned so many times, it was still hard for him to believe that Rhodey was the
best friend he’d been looking for all his life.
“So are you going to dance with
the prince?” Rhodey teased as he styled Tony’s hair.
Tony scoffed and playfully tried
to elbow Rhodey. “I only want to see what all the fuss is about.” Truthfully,
Tony understood why the Wakanda prince was such a big deal. Wakanda was a very
powerful country and had resources that everyone wanted to get their hands on.
What Tony didn’t understand was why for the first time ever, Howard had forbidden
Tony from attending the prince’s welcome party at the embassy. Usually Howard
forced Tony to attend such things. The one-eighty in attitude made Tony
curious, and now Tony wanted nothing more than to march into the embassy, waltz
up to the Prince T’Challa, and say something shocking.
“Right, you bought a one of a
kind gown just so you could stare at the prince. Sure thing, Cinderella.”
“You’re just jealous because I’ve
proven that no matter what, I’m always beautiful.”
“Watch it, I still have my makeup
brushes. I can turn you into a pumpkin if you keep that ego up.”
Tony feigned a forlorn sigh. “How
did I end up with an abusive fairy godmother?”
Rhodey twisted Tony’s hair.
Rhodey soon finished with Tony’s
hair. He then helped Tony pick out the bra size that looked the most natural
with Tony’s body. Tony was disappointed that Rhodey nixed the D size bra, but
once he saw himself laced up in his flowing crimson gown, Tony could admit that
Rhodey had been right about the cup size. D would have been too much.
“So would you date me now?” Tony
chortled. He’d linked his arm through Rhodey’s as they headed toward the
garage. Tony dangled his strappy heels from his finger–mindful of his press
“Maybe in another universe.”
Tony was a tad disappointed in
Rhodey’s answer, but he had expected it. He’d spent the early half of their
friendship flirting mercilessly with Rhodey, and while Rhodey had always
responded good-naturedly, Rhodey just wasn’t interested in anything sexual or
romantic. He was open to late night drunken cuddles, though, so Tony was
Rhodey held open the car door and
helped Tony inside. Tony was grateful that he’d picked a gown that didn’t have
a bulky skirt or else he would never be able to drive himself to the embassy.
With a hug and a few final well wishes, Rhodey shut the car door and took a
Tony drove off to the embassy. It
took him longer than he’d have preferred to get to the welcome party, but it
was worth it in the end. Everyone and their mother seemed to be attending the
party, and so Tony had managed to avoid the line by showing up late. He gave a
fake name that he’d arranged to have put on the guest then strode into the
It wasn’t the fanciest party Tony
had gone to, but considering it was a bunch of politicians and such who were
hosting the shindig, the event was nicer than their normal parties. Tony would
describe it as Sunday Brunch With Grandma. The food was plentiful and every
table had a flower arrangement. The music was performed by musicians and
classical. Everyone either drank champagne or water.
In short, it was boringly elegant
and tasteful. If it weren’t for his curiosity, Tony would have pivoted and
strolled right out of the room.
Instead, Tony snatched a flute of
champagne when a waiter wandered by with a tray full of glasses. He took a sip
then dove into the crowd, searching for the guest of honor. He had to mingle a
little bit, but for once Tony was amused by the small talk. It was obvious no
one recognized him dressed as a girl, and he found it enjoyable to every now
and then mention his name and see the reaction it got out of people.
He didn’t have many fans among
the older crowd. Those closer to his age varied in their opinions of him, but
even the most irritated of his peers acknowledged Tony’s intelligence and skill
Tony was enjoying himself so much
that as he moved to retreat from the group he was currently mingling with, he
bumped into someone who had just been trying to pass by.
“Sorry.” Tony seized the arm of
his victim without thinking, yanking the young man back into place before he
could fall to the ground. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”
The young man paused for a
moment. His dark gaze assessed Tony, and Tony took the opportunity to check out
the cutie in return. Soft, springy curls crowned the guy’s head, and Tony’s
fingers twitched to touch the curls. A goatee that arced thinly around the lips
then covered the bottom half his chin reminded Tony of the first time he’d
kissed someone with facial hair and how rough it had been.
Tony certainly wouldn’t mind
kissing the guy in front of him to see if his kiss would be equally as rough.
“No, the trouble is all mine. I
was not paying attention either.”
“Sounds like we’re both to blame
then.” Tony smiled, then just for fun, he held out his hand like he expected
the man in front of him to kiss it. It wasn’t everyday Tony got to dress up
like a girl and attend a fancy party. He was going to take full advantage.
Dark eyes sparkled with mischief.
The young man eyed Tony’s hand then took it and pressed a kiss to the back of
it. “So it would seem. However, I am not the one who would have had to face the
wrath of the Dora Milaje.”
The Dora Milaje? Tony flipped through his memory like a rolodex until he found
what he was looking for.
The Dora Milaje were the personal
bodyguards of Prince T’Challa.
Tony glanced in the direction Prince T’Challa had come from and a woman who radiated strength and authority stood
just a few paces away. Her sight was locked on Tony, and Tony swore she could
see right through him; that she knew that underneath the dress and makeup Tony
was just a boy.
Except he wasn’t just a boy. He
was the same age as Prince T’Challa, and just like the prince he was a genius.
He may not be a prince, but he was set to inherit a company that affected the
lives of billions. He was Tony Stark, and he wasn’t going to let some
overprotective Xena wannabe scare him into submission.
“So I guess that makes you the
prince this party is for. Personally, I think it’s lame. I’ve been to Easter
parties more exciting than this. You should complain. One word from you and we
could get a rock band in here as well as some decent alcohol.”
“I’m sorry to hear that you’re
not enjoying yourself.”
Tony scoffed and tossed back the
last of his champagne. “Please, Prince Charming, don’t pretend like you give a
damn whether someone is enjoying this party or not. This is all just a show,
and everyone here is a clown.”
Prince T’Challa quirked an
eyebrow and met Tony’s gaze challenging. “Everyone?”
The prince’s inflection gave off
the real question he was asking: “Even me?”
Tony smirked. “Everyone.” Tony
thrust his champagne flute at Prince T’Challa. “Mind holding this? Thanks.” Tony
didn’t give Prince T’Challa an option, shoving the glass into Prince T’Challa’s
hands before the young man could stop him.
Tony snatched another flute off a
passing waiter’s tray and sipped from the new glass. “So Prince Charming, I
hear you’re a genius. What’s your field?”
Tony rolled his eyes. “Field of
study? Please tell me you’re a genius in the math and sciences and that you’re
not going to pull out some crap about being a literary genius or some bull shit
“You don’t like literature?”
Tony shook his head. “Literature isn’t
objective. It’s important, but I like dealing with hard facts. I don’t need nor
want to get in debate about whether King Lear was a hypocrite and got what he
deserved in the end or if he’s truly a tragic character and should be pitied. I
much rather talk about artificial intelligence, psychics, or even just space.”
Tony paused. “Star Wars and Star Trek are also an option.”
Prince T’Challa chuckled. “So are
you a Picard or a Kirk fan?”
Tony threw a hand over his fake
boobs. “You are Prince Charming.” He fanned himself. “Don’t stop
talking nerdy to me.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to hear
about Wakanda’s research into artificial intelligence?”
“Stop, I’ll be kissing you by the
end of the night.”
Prince T’Challa didn’t stop, and
Tony was entranced. He was enchanted by Prince T’Challa’s crooked smile and the
way his eyes lit up as he spoke to Tony. He was enthralled with each new piece
of information Prince T’Challa shared with him, and before long, Tony had
pulled Prince T’Challa over to a table so Tony could take notes on napkins. He
was disappointed to realize that some of the technology Prince T’Challa
mentioned using in his experiments did not currently exist in the USA. However,
after making a few inquiries, Tony was positive he could develop something
similar if not better.
He enjoyed the warm hand Prince
T’Challa rested on his knee as Tony drew schematics of the tools he intended to
craft. Happiness blossomed in his chest whenever Prince T’Challa looked at his
drawings and pointed out something he’d failed to consider and then offered a
solution or alternative.
They talked back and forth and it
wasn’t until Tony’s back ached from arching over his drawings that he realized
the party had thinned out immensely.
A glance at the clock told it was
late enough to be considered morning. With a curse, he stood up and shoved the
napkins of schematics into his bosom. “Hate to engineer and dash, but it’s
going to take forever for me to get rid of all this makeup and I need it gone
before the evil dragon guarding my castle learns that I snuck out for the
evening. You’ve been a marvelous prince though. Thanks.”
“Before you go, may I-” Tony
didn’t hear what Prince T’Challa said. The moment Prince T’Challa had stood and
made a move to reach for Tony, Tony had taken off like a rabbit after hearing a
He ran out of the embassy and to
his car, ripping the door open as fast as he could. He plopped himself into the
driver’s seat then bent to undo his strappy heels–he couldn’t drive with the
damn things on. He was about to throw them in the passenger seat when a thought
came to him. The night really had been like a fairytale, so why not go all in?
Tony opened the compartment where
he kept insurance papers as well as a few pens. As quickly as possible, he
scribbled a note on the bottom of one shoe then tossed the shoe out of the car.
He then slammed the door and
started the car. He didn’t look back to see if anyone had actually followed him
He grinned to himself. Even if
Prince T’Challa never found his shoe, Tony would be happy. He’d had fun and at
least he’d gotten some cool schematics out of the evening.
Okay, so this just happened again - I don’t know if it’s the same person, or if it’s become a popular thing to do or what, but I just spent nearly two hours on a question only to scroll down and find the person had asked exactly the same question to someone else. Now, there’s nothing wrong with wishing for different perspectives on things, and I understand that sometimes you want to talk about stuff right now and there’s no guarantee people will answer your question at once, so sending the same thing to five people increases your chances, but in my opinion it’s still a bit rude. I’ve seen this happening to myself, @elizabethrobertajones, @bluestar86, @mittensmorgul and @ibelieveinthelittletreetopper over the last few weeks, and personally, I’d just like to say - if you’d like to start a debate on a subject between people who’ve got different opinions on things, that’s fine, but the way I would do it would be to start with a post, not a question - something like “I was puzzled by Cas’ behaviour in 12x12, and I was wondering what @ person, @ person and @ person think about it? Thanks!”. I know I answered stuff like that before, and it makes it more interesting because then someone else reblogs it and we can talk about the thing instead of writing our own analysis in a corner and never learn anything new at all. And if you’re shy - look, it’s okay to be shy! But then maybe send an anon ask and specify that you’d like for more than one opinion on this: “Hey there, I know you and Mittens have talked about Dean’s reaction to Aaaron somewhere, can I ask…” - with something like that, I’ll be sure to tag Mittens in my answer and then she can reblog it and add stuff, if she’s got time.
(Just to be clear, I’m not angry with anyone - I’m always happy to get asks and I’ll always do my best to answer them. Only - please, be considerate? I feel a bit foolish about answering something only to scroll down and see the question appear five more times on my dash.)
6. Worst drug experience? 17. Weirdest dream you've had about a mutual?
Oh, you’re a saint for including the full questions. Thank you.
6 My freshman year of college I agreed to smoke with my floormates for the first time. They were weird about it, and were set on taking me to a park. We went to this park, then sat in a gazebo and a bunch of high school kids came over, and my friends let them join. It was super weird, and I was so scared of getting caught. Then, they pull out this huge bong, and one of them helps me but gives me an insane hit. I spent the next hour coughing so hard I thought I’d throw up, and my mouth was watering so much I had to literally lean over and drool to keep from feeling like I was drowning.
17 um… I had a dream about @sodomymcscurvylegs this one time. It wasn’t a sex dream, he just let me touch his pecs, but after a while said I had to stop because he was loyal to Buck. That’s the only dream I’ve ever had a dream about a mutual.
i would listen to this stupid mix every day if it would bring you back. i would never listen to any good music ever again. but it won’t. how is it possible i’m never going to see you again? how can you be over? how is it possible i’m never going to do any weird things with you ever again? how can i have all this power, and i couldn’t hold on to you? the one time. the one time i needed it. what am i doing? jen. it’s not fair. dad says people are going to act like the world is ending now. maybe it is. it’s not the world. it’s just jen. jen’s world is over. now maybe everything will change.
The first finished photo of my Zelda cosplay. 👑
I constructed this costume over the course of about six weeks, but I spent just as long planning and researching the techniques that would go into it. Despite my time crunch to finish it for Katsucon, I am proud of myself for not cutting any corners or sacrificing my commitment to quality to get it done. (I just worked crazy long hours every day for weeks instead, haha)
This is probably the most complex project I’ve tackled to date. Although there are some small improvements I would still like to make, I’m really pleased with how it came out overall. Get ready to see lots more photos of this one!
Photo by @josephchilin
Costume made and worn by me
I’m just kinda imagining Shiro being Ultra Guilty about not being able to find Matt after his escape, and feeling really bad about injuring him and then never seeing him again. Shiro probably gets really worried that Matt will hate him and he can’t really remember much so hurting Matt is really most of what he remembers of Matt during their time in the Galra prison. Meanwhile, Matt probably knows that Shiro feels bad, probably thinks about how Shiro will remember hurting him, how Shiro will feel guilty and Matt wants to tell him that he’s ok, that he’s not mad, but he can’t and it’s killing him.
Shiro tries to cling as much as he can to the bits of Matt he can remember, and he wants to remember it all because he knows he might never see Matt again. Sometimes if he’s walking to his room late at night he’ll hear quiet sobs coming from Pidge’s room. Shiro knows that it’s all his fault. If he’d only been better, or smarter, he could have done something. He should have tried harder and he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. And now the image of Matt’s terrified face after he attacked him is burned into his memory.
Sometimes Matt wonders whether Shiro is dead and if he does get free, if he’ll ever see Shiro again. And then, suddenly, all Matt can see is Shiro’s pained face as he whispers “Take care of your father,” as he gets dragged away to fight. Oh god, how Matt hopes Shiro got away somehow, but he knows in his heart that Shiro might have died even moments after he was taken away from the arena.
Sometimes, when he can catch a glimpse of the stars from inside the prison, Matt will look out and wonder if Shiro really did make it out. He’ll wonder if Shiro is out there somewhere, or if he’s back on earth, and then, at the thought of Shiro back on earth, he realizes Shiro doesn’t know if he’s alive either. All he can imagine is Shiro having to explain to his mother and Katie, having to explain “I don’t know what happened to Matt,” and that’s when Matt vows that he’s going to escape some day. Because he has to make it back to his family, has to know what happened to Shiro.
Not knowing, Matt thinks, not knowing is almost worse than a solid answer. At least if Shiro was dead he could begin to grieve, but as long as things are uncertain his heart won’t let him release the glimmer of hope. It won’t let him get rid of the fantasies of Shiro being safe and happy back on earth.
Shiro knows he has to remain calm, he has to be the team’s leader and needs to stay strong. Yet every time Pidge announces she’s got some sort of lead, some kind of evidence that might lead them to Matt, he can’t help but feel a tiny glimmer of hope, and he tries to push it away because he knows Matt is probably dead.
Shiro, too, decides that uncertainty is worse than knowing for sure that Matt is dead. Every Galra ship that they destroy, every ship that they watch explode, Shiro wonders if Matt is on there, and he wonders if Matt’s blood is on his hands again. He doesn’t know it, but Pidge thinks the same thing every time as well.
In his darkest moments, when he feels like giving up, Matt remembers Shiro’s desperate face. He remembers Shiro’s voice, telling him to take care of his father. And Matt remembers back on earth, Shiro quietly reminding him to take care of himself, and how he’d reply the same way every time. “But who’s going to take care of you?” And Matt remembers that, and he remembers when he vowed that he’d make it out, for Shiro.
If Shiro’s mantra during his time with the Galra was “Patience yields focus,” then Matt’s is that he has to make it out for Shiro. Even if Shiro is dead, Matt knows the least he can do is escape instead. The least he can do is let Shiro’s family know too, because Matt knows for every time he thinks of his father, of Katie, of his mother, that Shiro must be thinking of his family too.
At some point, Pidge picks up on Shiro’s carefully concealed emotions every time she shares any information about finding Matt, and she makes sure she lets him be the first to know anything she finds. After that, they cling to each other trying desperately to find the reassurance that only the safe discovery of Matt can bring them.
Shiro still thinks Pidge might resent him a little for when he tore her away from the Galra ship on Arus, when the robeast was coming. He understands her reasoning, that she would be willing to risk serious injury to find any clue about Matt. He would too, but he knows that they could have died, and that dead men cannot find Matt. She never picked up on the desperation in his voice, the conflict in his expression. He wonders if he had stayed another moment, if they would have found Matt. Shiro tells himself that living in the past is foolish, even as he replays Matt’s fearful expression in his head for the millionth time.
Matt finds that missing Shiro is like losing a part of yourself, like a dull ache that fades but never really goes away, and that it is like a million instant replays of Shiro’s desperate expression. Shiro finds that missing Matt is like the anxiety of misplacing something important, like a persistent thought in the back of his mind, there at all times, and that it is like a million instant replays of the fear and shock in Matt’s eyes.
Every time Shiro glimpses Pidge out of the corner of his eye, it’s like a stab to his heart. When he was first being rescued back on Earth, when he first caught sight of Pidge he thought that she was Matt. They look so similar, especially now that she’s cut her hair short, and he tries to hide his pain because he is the leader and he needs to be strong for his team. He can’t let them know how broken he is inside, how every time he sees Pidge, he thinks he breaks a little bit more.
During the battle with Zarkon, when they’re losing, and everything is going wrong, Shiro thinks of Matt. He thinks of his last glimpses of Matt, he thinks of what Matt was like back on Earth, and he decides that he can’t die now. He has to live, because he just knows that Matt is out there somewhere. He knows Pidge got new data from Slav’s prison, which gives him hope. And Shiro knows he can’t let himself die knowing that the last Matt saw of him was when he was being attacked.
Matt doesn’t know why, but one day, he’s managed to catch a glimpse of the stars through a window, and something just feels terribly wrong. He thinks of Shiro, at the exact same moment the team is running towards the Black Lion, only to find it empty, to find Shiro missing. Then, Matt is dragged away from the window and everything is the same as always, and still he repeats to himself that he has to make it out for Shiro.
A stand that saves over your Super Mario Galaxy save file after you’ve spent painstaking hours to collect every star, which was extremely hard due to those horrid purple coin challenges, causing you to lose your only file that you unlocked Luigi mode on and if my brother is reading this I will find you, your crime has yet to be forgiven, run
So my mom and I LOVE to read each other stories, and tonight's the first time I've been home in roughly three months. I just spent like an hour reading her stuff from your family lore tag and we are both in tears of laughter. During the peach tree story we were laughing so hard neither of us could breathe and the dog started freaking out because he thought we were upset-crying. Thank you for sharing these stories with us; you have an excellent storytelling style!
This is the sweetest message I’ve ever received and I’ve been slow to reply because I keep reading it over and over. So have a short:
When mom was in grad school she took karate because 1. Illinois is a creepy place sometimes so maybe she should learn some self defense and 2. Being 4′11″ gives you a major edge in karate in the early stages, because lower center of gravity.
Her instructor was this huge black relentlessly chipper dude from Jamaica named “Luiz”, who was also a chronic over-baker and made truly excellent cinnamon rolls. Mom loves cinnamon rolls and karate, and advances up the belt line fairly quickly, so when they stand in belt order, she’s always first. (She ultimately got to black belt but at this point I think she was still blue), so when it’s time to count off for the katas, mom always counts first. mom didn’t know a lick of Japanese, so she was essentially parroting Sensei Luiz, but hey, it works.
One day, Sensei Luiz comes in and tells everyone they need to scrub the dojo within an inch of it;s life and shape up on various other things, because HIS Sensei was coming, and this was a Big Deal. So everyone deep-cleans the dojo and there are double practices that week, and Mom makes a particular note of making sure to count correctly.
Sensei’s Sensei arrives (mom regrets she can’t remember his name), and he’s actually from Japan, on a Grand Road Trip to see all of the American students he’d trained over the years. BIIIIIG DEAL. So sensei sits down to watch how Sensei Luiz conducts a lesson. So Mom, being first in line, is first to count off. She gets as far as “Go” when Sensei’s Sensei bursts out, howling with laughter, and she is horrifed- did she mix up the numbers?
Eventually he calms down and apologizes for the outburst. “I’m very sorry- I just wasn’t expecting to hear a White girl count in Japanese with a Jamaican Accent.”
Turns out everyone spoke that way and Senei’s Sensei found that unfailingly hilarious but was very pleased with how Luiz ran his dojo and Mom’s ability to remain calm while tossing football players around the mat.
Someone said my Pyrrha cosplay was “abject perfection” today.
Abject: utterly hopeless, miserable, humiliating, or wretched
I know it’s not the best thing in the world but I worked hard for this.
Pyrrha was my FIRST armor, corset and prop build. I made everything by hand, without patterns.
Everything but my boots and wig, which I STILL EDITED.
I spent over 500 hours on making this outfit! (probably more!)
Cosplay isn’t about perfection, it’s about fun. People will always say mean things.
But I have so many happy memories that were made as Pyrrha! I’ve met so many new friends and learned so much!
So to haters, I don’t cosplay to please you. I refuse to get upset, cry or be discouraged by you! Find a better use for your time.
To other cosplayers, don’t let other people bring you down. Your work is amazing, no matter what is said. Remember, it’s not about how many likes or reblogs, how many cosplays or fans. Do it for the fun, the memories and the friendships. Do what you love and don’t let hate hold you back in anything you do. ❤