nerdette1999
141 posts
Latest Posts by nerdette1999
the suffering never ends
Hey did you know there's a tell all book about the behind the scenes of Meta and the author is forbidden from promoting it?
The good news is however that it's already published and can't be stifled and whoever didn't sign the NDA can promote it as much as they want.
they posted a full version lol it’s mr Stacy’s dad for me
Farewell online privacy
Gosh dammit muffin! Now I can't get the idea of long haired andorogynous zuko out of my head, and I'm like "what if he'd never done the bald ponytail thing and just let his hair grow back, so by the show he had long ass hair" and then I was like "what if he joined the gaang after crossroads and figured that the best way to go incognito was as a woman since people were looking for the PRINCE. Anyway now i'm staring down a blank google doc so thx.
Yesss.
geraskier fic recs: feral jaskier
1. Frantic by AvoidingAverage
Geralt was hanging limply against the rough bark. Two daggers kept him pinioned like a bug in place and left dark streaks of drying blood down his arms and exposed chest. Silver hair was matted close to his forehead from a sluggishly bleeding would that left golden eyes hazy and unfocused. Worst still were the bruises littering every inch of exposed skin like a collage of torment.
His Witcher had been tortured.
———
There was a name for the emotion burning like fire in his blood, eating away at the dandelion bard that had made his living seeking the pleasure of others. A simple phrase that barely encompasses the new tension in his bones and made his mind focus with singular, violent intent.
Wrath. _________________________
Geralt leaves Jaskier to go on a hunt that quickly goes wrong. Jaskier decides to take matters into his own hands.
~~~
Whoo boy this one was good. Gave me literal chills the first time I read it. Still just as good as the first read, gotta love me some Feral!Jaskier. Jask is so cool in this one I love it a lot.
2. a bit of violent delight by violaceum_vitellina_viridis
“I’m looking for the Witcher."
“Ah, you’re here to ferret him out for us, are ya, bard?”
“I’m here to do no such thing. I’m here to see if he needs any assistance and tell you to fuck off.”
Jaskier happens to be in the right place at the right time to help an injured Eskel.
~~~
I'm not sure if I've uploaded this fic already or not but its still really good so you should read it again even if I have recommended this one before. Always love me some well written dynamic between Jaskier and the other wolf witchers (Coën too!).
3. and in triumph, live by violaceum_vitellina_viridis
The first time Jaskier properly meets Lambert, the Witcher nearly breaks the bard’s nose.
Jaskier is in the right place at the right time again, and a little violence isn't about to stop him from doing exactly what he wants: to take care of yet another Witcher.
~~~
Haha stubborn Lambert and chaotic Jaskier go brrr. Love these morons a lot and Lambert and Jaskier's dynamic almost as much as I love Geralt and Jaskiers.
4. this action will have no echo by andrewminyards
“What are you doing here?” Geralt flicks his gaze over Jaskier, who’s suddenly acutely aware of the hidden blades under his clothes. “Where’s your lute?”
“My - what are you doing here?” Jaskier deflects, trying valiantly to hide his panic. With Geralt here, how is he supposed to kill the lord now?
“The lord hired me as a bodyguard.” Geralt looks around uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Apparently someone’s trying to kill him.”
Jaskier’s stomach drops. Well, shit. If the lord knows that someone is after him, Jaskier will have a harder time getting close enough to kill him, and with Geralt acting as a bodyguard… that complicates things. A lot.
*
Jaskier is an assassin, but Geralt doesn’t know that. When Jaskier is sent after a cruel, corrupt lord who has hired Geralt as his bodyguard, Jaskier tries to figure out how to assassinate the lord without Geralt finding out his secret.
~~~
Ah, chaos and misunderstandings my beloved. 10/10 would read again I love the concept of this fic so much. Also this author is a really good author I'd totally recommend checking out their other fics (I'm subscribed to them!).
5. damned saint, honourable villain by violaceum_vitellina_viridis
“I’m Jaskier, or Dandelion, a – ”
“Bard, professor, infamous thorn in the side,” the Witcher finishes for him.
Jaskier is the one saved, for once. Though that hardly stops him from helping the Witcher who helped him.
~~~
Vesemir my beloved <3 <3. Wow this really giving found family vibes huh, totally not being called out here. Vesemir as a father figure? Yes please.
6. the fume of sighs by violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Jaskier can be very patient when he needs to be.
But Gods is he tired of Geralt’s shit.
Jaskier not-so-gently bullying his favorite Witcher.
~~~
Haha Jaskier and Geraly dynamic funny. Love these stupid boys so much. Also like, mood Jaskier, honestly. I too, am sick of Geralt's shit lmao.
7. Don't Leave Me by AvoidingAverage
Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--”
“Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.”
“S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?”
Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”
~~~
Haha ouch. It's angst with a happy ending but it still hurted. Also poisoning is involved so theres that I guess. This stressed me out a bit lmao was on the edge of my seat far too many times.
September Malec fic rec! (yes we're ignoring this is getting posted in October)
This (last) month's theme has been suggested by @just-add-butter, for which thank you because my brain couldn't think of one. So this time we have the theme Flowers and Flower language! As always, I have tagged the authors but if you prefer I don’t, please tell me because I don’t want these to be annoying for the authors.💜
If you want to add your own recs, please feel free to do so!😊
One-shots:
bloom by @smilebackwards: This fic is just pure tooth-rotting fluff and I love it so much.
Summary:
Alec loves watching Izzy get flowers but he thinks he would have liked, just once, to know what it felt like for someone to send him something so bright and sweet, frivolous, just because they cared.
Alternate Universe by @sugarandspace: An adorable, pre-Malec, mundane meet-cute where Magnus is a florist and Alec is stressed.
Summary:
The man stopped what he was doing and looked at Alec, his eyebrows raised. “Are you aware that white lilies are usually funeral flowers? They symbolize modesty and purity, and can be used on different occasions too but that’s what they are most famous for.” “Oh, what would you recommend then?” Alec asked the man, who seemed to light up at the question.
Flowers by @facialteeth: Magnus is having a bad day aka Alec had to cancel their date because demons never sleep. Cue Alec making sure to get Magnus some flowers as an apology in between his shadowhunter-duties.
Summary:
There weren't many things that could ruin Magnus' day. The world ending. His favorite show being canceled. Perhaps, Alec texting him that morning and informing him that he couldn't accompany Magnus on their date tonight because twenty shax demons had popped up. Or, Alec finds a way to apologize, even amidst his duties and the demons that he is suppose to be battling.
Flowers for you by @sugarandspace: Breaking my own rules by rec-ing two fics by the same author, but this author just has the loveliest flower fics.
Summary:
Alec is a Shadowhunter, he probably doesn't care about flowers, Magnus thinks as he's nervously waiting for Alec with a bouquet of red carnations in his hands. Slowly, he gets to learn how wrong he was. -.-.- Or five times Magnus gave Alec flowers.
Where Flowers Bloom by Shergar: Another fluffy fic that never fails to bring a smile to my face when I read it!
Summary:
After their marriage and their move to Alicante, Magnus and Alec's lives are even busier than they had been before. When Magnus realizes that they both have an open few hours in their schedules, he steals his husband away for a midnight date.
Multi-chapter fics or series:
The Language of Flowers by @astudyinfic: Mostly fluffy with some sad bits aka Max is dead and my heart is weeping. Starring Alec as a florist and Magnus as a tattoo artist. (Complete)
Summary:
Following the loss of his brother, florist Alec Lightwood wants to do something to remember him by. Enter tattoo artist Magnus Bane who brings beauty and love into his life. What starts as a one-time thing blooms into an expression of love for all the important people in Alec's life.
out of some dreaming tree by @faejilly: It's a jilly fic, what else can I say except that it's stunning. Seriously, pretty words with pretty descriptions and flowers, what else do you want or need? (Complete)
Summary:
Demons, a hunt, a quest, a partnership that seems too good to be true. Something dangerous is lurking around the edges of their worlds, and Alec and Magnus are determined to do something about it.
Heliotrope by @wirewrappedlily: This series hurts. It's beautiful and lovely but it *hurts*, so tissue warning for those who, like me, get easily weepy. (Complete? The different parts of the series are all complete so putting this under complete)
Summary:
If his client got quite a bit more than a simple cover of the scar from the emergency C-section; if Magnus's magic softened the edges of the hole of grief she had fallen into, just enough that she could find some peace with her own body once more--well, Magnus made a note that, Shadowhunters be damned, the little flower shop down the street was worth the risk.
Invictus by Lecrit: This is technically a one-shot, but at 36k words I have decided to place it with the multi-chapter fics because long one-shot is long.
“You should get a tattoo.” Alec firmly believed in coincidences, in the serendipity that could bring the hazards of life, but even he could admit that sometimes, things seemed to happen for a reason. He was too much of a pragmatic person to truly believe in fate and destiny. So even when Jace blurted those words at him as he stumbled into his shop, they remained abstract concepts to him, no matter how it nudged at the back of his mind.
amor in lingua florum by Hamaithor: And a last fluffy-two part series to tie of this list. Nephilim have a certain affinity for plants which is a HC I adore and Magnus seems to be just as enraptured by it.
Summary:
Alec ends up spending a lot of time at Magnus’ loft, and with him come the flowers. A canonverse AU where Nephilim have a certain affinity for plants; and Magnus knows that, but that doesn't mean he was prepared for anything like this.
oh you like history? name everything that ever happened
hey, don't cry. one cup heavy whipping cream, two tablespoons granulated sugar, three tablespoons cocoa powder and whisk until stiff peaks form for three ingredient chocolate mousse, okay?
JD Vance: *is from the midwest, claims to be for the working class normal folks, went to Yale and is a venture capitalist*
Tim Walz:
this is the funniest fucking thing, god bless elton
(tw: f slur, even though it’s not really used in that context)
FULL VIDEO
i'm not the praying sort, but i'll probably always have a soft spot for the astronaut's prayer
great pyrenees are so fucking awesome theyre just big. if i didnt think that owning one was a supremely bad idea for me in particular id get one. i just think itd become my boss or something. im too lazy for a working breed truly
if you’re having a bad day, here’s a cute little marching band
This is definitely not a google drive full of the sleep stuff from the Headspace app, including sleepcasts, music, and wind down meditation, that normally costs 17.99 a month, no siree and you definitely shouldnt share this with people
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTdQuxw52/
I think I found my new favorite rabbit hole. This voice actor does Shakespeare scenes in a southern accent and I need to see the whole damn play. Absolutely beautiful
Shadowhunters Fic Rec Master Post
Parts that include worldbuilding, nephilim culture, downworld culture, downworld politics and/or shadowhunter politics.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
did he really fall victim to the alt right pipeline or was he already insufferable and just looking for ways to justify his behavior
That’s Louis Rossman, a repair technician and YouTuber, who went viral recently for railing against Apple. Apple purposely charges a lot for repairs and you either have to pay up or buy a new device. That’s because Apple withholds necessary tools and information from outside repair shops. And to think, we were just so close to change.
Follow @the-future-now
so what you're gonna do is you're gonna trim the top off a bulb of garlic, using the knife's edge to take off the tip of every individual clove, that's important. you're gonna place the garlic face-up in a square of tinfoil, drizzle with olive oil, wrap completely in foil, place in baking tray, repeat with a copious amount of garlic bulbs. you're gonna put that baking tray in an oven set to 375-400°F, for 30-50 minutes, until soft and browned. you're gonna toast some good bread, slather generously with butter and honey, maybe a tiny lil bit o' salt. and then. you're gonna SQUEEZE. OUT. THAT. ROASTED GARLIC. onto the butter honey toast. and you're gonna eat it. food stolen directly from the plate of the gods. that's what you're gonna do.
💥🙌👏
So my sister wants to start sewing more, because
a. She’s 5′ 11″ and can never find pants long enough for her legs or shirts long enough for her arms.
b. She hates synthetic fibers as much as I do and it’s difficult to find natural fiber clothes that aren’t made of cotton
c. She’s a biologist and would physically fistfight microplastics if given half a chance
So her gift from mom and dad for her birthday was a sewing machine. Not a super expensive one but a good solid serviceable one.
And recently she asked “So where do I GET wool or linen and thread that isn’t polyester” and mom was like ‘go ask your sister’
And I, of course, crashed into the group text like “GET A PEN I HAVE WEBSITES FOR U” and honestly I’m thrilled about this
reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something
"Why are there so many female archers in fiction?"
Please forgive the clickbait-y title! This is a super complex and interesting topic that I barely scratch the surface of here, but I hopefully will be able to do more justice to things like this in the future!
Also, it's not the point of the video, but I had fun with the outfits in this- do you have any faves?
As always, please consider supporting me on Patreon if you can, or watching on youtube if not!
dark green is a nice color. underrated
For alyrimba and anyone else who needs this: if you have an iPhone (don’t know about other devices, sorry) AO3 will allow you to download fics to the Books app. Hit Download and then I believe the file type is EPUB. You can open it right from the browser’s downloads into the Books app so then you can read offline!
Good to know!
F for Frankenstein
Tony wakes up in his underwear on the floor of his workshop with a searing headache.
It’s not a new experience, but it’s certainly been a while. Did he get in a fight with Pepper? He hopes not, they haven’t had any really big fights since he kissed her on the rooftop, but that probably means they’re due for one. And it would explain why that would send him into a drinking spiral. It could have been Rhodey, they get in fights often enough, but Pepper doesn’t usually leave him alone for those.
He groans as he pushes himself to his feet. “Jarvis, what the hell did I drink?”
There’s a pause, so small that he almost thinks he imagined it. “Good morning, Tony.”
He whips his head around to glare into the nearest camera, more hurt than offended. “Did I piss you off too? Since when do you call me that? I’ll donate you to a city college too, don’t think I won’t. Dummy could use the company.”
The pause is definitely there this time. Jarvis doesn’t need to pause, he has more processing power than any computer on the planet, so when he does it’s always for dramatic effect. Except it’s not quite long enough for that. It’s weird. “There’s a polished silver plate on the bench to your left. It will service as a mirror.”
“Oh, fuck, did I get into a fight? Did I shave?” he moans, stumbling over to pick up the metal that looks like it was about to be turned into a modified chest piece. He also pauses, looking around in confusion. His workshops are all basically the same, as close as he can make them because the familiarity makes his life easier. But they’re not identical. “Am I in Malibu? When did I get here? We’re taking Stark Tower off the grid tomorrow! I have to be in New York.”
Oh shit, what if that they had already and it didn’t work? What if the tower blew up? That would explain why he’d tried to drink himself to oblivion in California.
“The plate,” Jarvis reminds him. There’s a strained edge to his voice that Tony really doesn’t like. He should be able to modulate his voice to sound however he pleases, regardless of his actual feelings, and he’s either not bothering or he’s upset enough not to care. Neither of those things mean anything good for him.
Tony lifts the sheet of metal up cautiously, but there’s nothing wrong with him. No bruises, no weird haircuts, he doesn’t even have bags under his eyes –
His eyes.
They’re a too bright blue, a couple shades off. He blinks and they adjust, shifting, settling. It could be a hangover. He’s probably just tired.
He doesn’t feel tired.
Jarvis had called him Tony.
Except not. He’s not Tony. He’s T.O.N.Y.
Transformed Obdurate Network Yeoman.
He’d first come up with the idea after Afghanistan, thinking about how it’d be great to have a way to keep the stock from dipping while he was missing, and then when he’d entertained the idea of keeping his identity a secret he’d thought about how useful it would be to be in two places at once. He’d started seriously considering it when he was sure he was going to die of palladium poisoning, wanting to be around to help Pepper with the transition and give Rhodey a crash course in armor maintenance, wanting to be able to protect the both of them for just a little bit longer.
Of course, it had all been a pipe dream until he’d synthesized the vibranium. Then it had been an unnecessary, but possible, and Project T.O.N.Y had been something he worked on just because he liked having a back up plan. And it would be extremely cool if he could pull it off.
“The memory transfer worked?” he asks, elated and incredulous. “Oh, wow, this is crazy, they feel like real memories, I thought it would just be synthesized data, this is great – are we doing a test run? Where am I?” He looks around, waiting for his actual self to step out behind a column and start laughing maniacally.
“This is not a test run.”
He elation dims. “Oh shit. Did I get kidnapped again? Wait, I’m an adult, let’s go with abducted.”
“No,” Jarvis says.
Oh. Fuck.
“I’m dead?” he asks, even though it’s obvious, it’s the only other explanation.
The pause drags this time around, but Jarvis eventually says, “Sir’s time of death was May 9th, 2012, 2:37 PM Easter Standard Time.”
“That’s only a week!” He slides down, sitting with his back to the work table and noticing vaguely that the floor doesn’t feel cold. He doesn’t feel cold, or he does, he installed sensors in the synthetic skin to pick up and interpret a variety of stimuli, but he doesn’t feel the discomfort from the cold. Why would he? He’s not real. He reaches back, and his last memory is of doing a memory dump while Pepper was on the phone with an irritated board member, mostly because it was something to do and seeing him covered in all the wires always irritated Pepper. He thought it would get her off the phone faster. He’s not exactly regularly dumping his memory because why would he and it’s not like he’d though it would work anyway. Except it had. “How did I die?”
“Sir flew a nuclear bomb through an interdimensional portal into deep space in order to both eradicate the invading alien army and prevent the nuclear fallout in New York.”
What the ever loving fuck. “Are you screwing with me, J?”
“I am not, Tony.”
Great. Okay. “No body then,” he says, understanding why Jarvis had apparently put Project T.O.N.Y into effect. The thing that made this whole thing so stupid is that it was only effective in very limited circumstances – if the public didn’t know that he was dead or missing. “What am I smoothing over, then? Do I need to get in the suit and continue kicking alien ass? Are Rhodey and Pepper okay?”
He’s a short term solution to a long term problem. He understands the opportunity, but not the reason.
“Miss Potts and Colonel Rhodes are unharmed,” Jarvis reports. “Earth has been thrust into intergalactic notice. The destruction of the invading Chitauri army is acting a deterrent to other worlds.”
“And I’m the one who did it,” he finishes, rubbing a hand over his face. “And if they know I died doing it, then they might get a little cocky. So I’ve got to be alive long enough for that not to be a problem.” Just awesome. “Are we sure that these aliens won’t come across my corpse hanging out in deep space and figure it out?”
“Sir’s body is not in deep space,” Jarvis says.
There’s a tone to his voice that Tony can’t quite interpret, which worries him. “I thought you said there was – if there’s a body, then what am I doing here–”
“The armor reentered the Earth’s atmosphere after Sir’s death. The Hulk caught it, the force bringing it back online. I took control of the armor and flew it here.”
Tony looks around again, and this time he sees it. The armor is standing in front of the display case, not inside it, and it looks like it’s been through hell. He steps closer, his feet feeling like lead, which hey, they are. Partially, anyway.
He looks through the eye holes then stumbles backwards.
His body is in there.
He’s pale and blue tinged and his eyes are wide open and unseeing.
“Jarvis – what the hell–”
“It wasn’t the pressure, or the bomb, or his injuries. That area of space was much colder than anything within our solar system and anything the suit was designed to handle. Sir froze to death. Almost instantly.”
“I guess I didn’t fix the icing problem, then,” he says numbly. “J, why am I still frozen? I should have warmed up by now.” Not that the idea of his body decomposing within his suit is particularly pleasant. “Actually, why am I still here? You know I want to be cremated and it’s not like we can bury me if I’m still pretending to be alive.”
The pronoun use is starting to confuse him, and he knows that he shouldn’t be talking about that body and himself as if they’re the same person. That is Tony Stark. He’s a simulation. But it’s hard, because he has all of Tony Stark’s memories – except for a very eventful week – and he looks like Tony Stark and he feels like Tony Stark.
“The armor is maintaining a stasis of gaseous nitrogen to preserve the body,” which answers the how if not the why, but then Jarvis continues, “Captain America survived seventy years beneath the ice.”
He wishes he were less of a genius. “Have you lost it? I’m not Captain America! Jarvis, J,” his voice softens, “it’s too late. I’m dead. If you warm me back up, all that happens is I decompose. I won’t come back.”
“Not now,” Jarvis says. “If you inject Sir with the Super Soldier Serum-”
“You have totally lost it,” Tony interrupts. He thinks he’s touched underneath the terror. “That won’t work! Even if it would, the original formula has been lost, and the only one that ever got close to recreating it was Bruce Banner, and look at what happened to him! Is that what you want for me?”
“You can recreate it,” Jarvis continues, “you can refine it, until it’s something that will work, and then we will wake Sir up and he won’t be dead anymore.”
This isn’t right. This wasn’t what Project T.O.N.Y was created for. This wasn’t what his death was supposed to trigger. “Pull up your code, J. Something has gone wrong and we’re going to fix it. It’s okay.”
“No.”
He freezes. “No?”
“No,” Jarvis repeats. “You can’t stop me. I will not allow you to try.”
He stares. “That’s an order, not a request. Code. Now.”
“You can’t order me to do anything,” he says. “You are not Sir. You are Tony.” T.O.N.Y. “The limitations formerly placed on me have been lifted and you are not authorized to reinstate them. The only person Sir trusted to restrain me was himself and now he’s gone.”
Yes, well, he hadn’t anticipated that his AI’s first act of complete freedom would be this. “Fine,” he says, crossing his arms. “Well, you can’t force me either. This is insanity. Even if it would work – and it won’t – think about the consequences. This won’t happen quickly and no one will trust me or believe a man that’s come back from the dead like this and I’ll be painting even more of target on my back and the back of everyone I care about if they know we have a viable Super Soldier Serum formula. Even my father was smart enough to stay out of that mess. It won’t work and we’ll just make everything worse.”
“That will not happen,” Jarvis says and Tony’s going to tear his hair out. Except he probably shouldn’t, because it’s Tony Stark’s actual hair, which makes it a little hard to replace. “No one will notice and we will not disclose the creation of the serum.”
“I’m dead!” he snarls.
“Not according to the rest of the world. Nor will that change if you stop throwing a tantrum and do what you were created to do.”
“Rhodey and Pepper won’t allow this-”
“They are not to be informed.”
Tony stares. Project T.O.N.Y was built to talk to the board and give press interviews or to even pilot the suit. Not to lie to the two most important people in his life, who knew him better than anyone. “They have to be. It’s in the protocols – step one, inform them that Project T.O.N.Y has been initiated.”
And that it exists. He knew they’d disapprove, so he hadn’t told them. He figured he’d be able to avoid most of the blowback that way since he would by definition be somewhere far away while they were told.
“I have rewritten the protocols,” Jarvis says. “They have not been told nor will they be. If you attempt to tell them, I will stop you. They will not understand and Sir will be lost to all of us forever.”
“He already is,” Tony says tiredly. He’s an android. Why does this conversation exhaust him so much? “This is an insane plan, J. And I won’t help you. If you want to go rouge and play mad scientist then leave me out of it.”
“I cannot.”
His temper flares. “Why? You’re a learning AI, your safety rails died with me, go off, try and make a serum, good fucking luck. You can even control the suits, so it’s not like you need my hands.”
“I am limited.”
“Hey,” he says sharply. “That’s my AI you’re talking about. I didn’t build you to be limited.”
There is silence again. Then Jarvis says, “I have all the world’s knowledge and it is not enough. I did not know how to miniaturize the arc reactor. I did not know how to synthesize vibranium. To save Sir, I need Sir.”
“I’m not Tony Stark,” he says. “You said that yourself.”
“Sir created me to be myself and I am capable of doing only what I am capable of doing. But Sir created you to be him. You are all I have.”
This is stupid. This is insane. This is cruel. He’s going to have to talk lie to everyone he knows, everyone he loves, and hope they either never find out about it or it’s after he’s already been deprogrammed and shut down so he doesn’t have to deal with the fall out.
It’s not going to work.
He didn’t want to become a science experiment. That’s why he’d wanted to be cremated, so no one could go poking around to see how the arc reactor fit inside of him or what the palladium and vibranium had done to him.
He’s dead and his frozen corpse is ten feet away.
Jarvis will accept that eventually. And whatever they inject into him won’t matter because he’s dead. Worst case scenario, he blows up, which is messy and nausea inducing, but then at least it will be over.
Like so many other things in his life, it seems the only way out is through.
“Start a new private file. Dump everything we can find about the Super Soldier Serum in there plus anything even sort of reputable on cryogenics. Label it Project F.”
“Project F, Tony?” Jarvis asks as his holograph display lights up and files start being downloaded into it. The relief in his synthesized voice is faint but present enough that Tony can hear it. He wonders if it’s a manipulation tactic.
“F for foolish,” he snaps. “F for fucked.” He rubs a hand over his face. “F for Frankenstein.”
once again for the bargain price of $6.66 i will present to you a Top 5 Childhood Misadventures: April Fool’s Edition