FICTION IS A LIE

2023 - what is it going to look like?

soloproject — Tue, 07 Feb 2023 08:02:41 GMT

The honest truth: I have no idea but this is the first time in a while that things have been so unclear to me-- I am usually a girl with some kind of organization, some kind of plan.

2022 was really busy but also really depressing. I just looked back at my calendar and I'm always so shocked that I, like, DID ANYTHING because I can never remember what happened!

All year long, I worked from home until the last minute--

--until they asked me to come back to work.

Pros: I can focus just a bit better so I try to just bite the bullet and work. Eating makes me sleepy so I eat very little, usually in a snack form.

Cons: ...unfortunately, my commute is still long as ever. I can't really justify driving every single day but my commute is literally 2.5 hours one way! If I can rest a bit, it's okay but otherwise, every day I feel like I have been beaten up.

Once thing I have to admite to myself lately, is how depressed I've become. It's why I am pushing myself to write because it kind of helps push down the misery. But it's been a long time since I have actually written anything, let along fanfic... but for the last few years, being part of any kind of fandom was kind of futile, given the energy you have to devote to media. When I get home, or when I get a day off, I DO NOT WANT to look at screens of any kind, even my phone. But it's impossible! Because anything else you want to do requires expense.

Please don't hesitate to comment if you see this. Otherwise, I won't know who is still trying to be on here or who has abandoned LJ.

2023

soloproject — Wed, 18 Jan 2023 05:14:53 GMT

Wow and hello. I do no expect anyone to be following me here but if you weirdly happen to be, welcome. I wish I could say I was diligently documenting the last few years-- and I have been, offline-- but I always felt like LJ has always been the cradle of my deepest thoughts. I started this LJ way back in high school and here I am now, in 2023, almost 40 years old and experiencing for the first REAL time, a true midlife crisis. The last 3 years were such a struggle for me. Any energy I had, spent pacing for a long career was nearly used up. So, here I am returning to my "roots" and trying to journal on a platform which is for lack of better term, based.

march is almost over

soloproject — Wed, 29 Mar 2017 02:06:43 GMT

Just came back from a very reflective 5 days home, mainly for my mom's birthday. It was really hot in Manila, up to 44 deg and so that was weirdly hard on me. Spent the time with a low grade migraine. But also got a lot of ideas and really should list them down. Some of the time spend there was tough-- before I moved, I put everything in order and in storage and after four months, I come back and my mom went through all of my stuff. Part of me knows that I neglected to be strict abou it. But I thought my organization made it clear that there was a system where I knew where everything was. But I came back and it was shot all to hell. My mom is always curious, not to mention she doesn't have many boundaries. It wasn't like she was going to take anything, she just wanted to see what kind of stuff I had-- it's tough to explain but it's kind of like being simultaneously territorial and proprietary, I dunno. But bottomline was that I couldn't find anything and it was very frustrating in the end.

so probably i need to have some kind of post-it to remind me to blog

soloproject — Mon, 13 Mar 2017 07:00:17 GMT

Ten days since the last entry and right now I am using this log entry post as a warm up for actual writing I have to do today. This week is the first week that my Ethics class is going into full independent study and E-learning mode and so there is much writing ahead of me. However, I have been doing a lot of writing, a combination of academic, role-play and fiction writing. I'm still having a hard time balancing stuff without completely resigning to staying in all day. In Singapore, travel takes a while because you traverse across a whole country. I can't complain when going 5 km in Manila takes an hour. I'm in a period when I'm trying to learn how to maximize my time, even while traveling.

i can't sleep

soloproject — Thu, 02 Mar 2017 07:04:30 GMT

Ok, updates! I can't sleep because I was reading manga and I kind of strayed into psychological manga but ended up in Junji Ito territory, then I re-read Monster, one of my personal favorites and I burned through 18 volumes until it was literally 3-4 AM and after that I just had a hard time sleeping. Also, the kopi at kopitiam? SO cheap and so good and it is black, BLACK like demon's blood. I should write about it sometime.

Speaking of writing: there has been plenty of that going on! I even went as far as posting on AO3-- so. As promised, I have not finished a WIP before end of Feb but posted 2 brand new ones, co-written by my eternal Julie. It is role-play-ish but we've been writing together for so long (roughly 12 years on and off) that we don't even take roles, we just write full plotty tags. And it is PRINCE OF TENNIS, why??? Because I am returning to my roots, LOL. But if anyone is interested, it is a medical drama, canon-ish, FUTURE AU and it is cute and also dark: http://archiveofourown.org/series/664244

Other than that, I am ALSO trying to "get back to my thang" art wise. Stay tuned. I don't even if I am fully satisfied with where I post them but I will figure that out soon.

writing like a beast

soloproject — Fri, 24 Feb 2017 16:11:45 GMT

This week I spent writing like crazy, probably 80-20 in favor of personal work. It feels pretty good because prior to this, it wasn't flowing out as much as I would want. I always have ideas and I always write them down and then I stare at the list willing myself to start any of them, any of those ideas. Anyway, thanks to school and its hundreds of manipulative, academic prompts, I actually have been writing a lot-- and then I get distracted and I RP.

Yes, that's right. I HAVE BEEN WRITING FANFIC AND ROLEPLAYING and I will now admit that it has been Prince of Tennis. So I've come back to my roots. Livejournal and Prince of Tennis like it's 2003. Amen.

an inventory of fanfic wips that I have found on my hard drive

soloproject — Tue, 21 Feb 2017 12:29:23 GMT

- a Les Amis Assassins AU, E/R, of course.

- A post-Gravity Falls gen where Mabel and Dipper confront high school in a very 80's comedy way.

- A Clint/Coulson AU where Clint is on death row and the government takes him out once in a while to do their dirty work before he is recruited into SHIELD.

- A Clint/Coulson whose plot is failing me now but for some reason it's almost 20K words LONG??????

- My HP Maurauders AU, A Different House, including a million and a half notes about timelines, developments, characters notes.

- ParaNorman future fic, starring Lee Pace as grown-up Norman and Seth Rogen as grown-up Neal.

- Rectitude, which is a fic I was writing about Sulu.

- I FOUND A Peter/Gwen/Harry fic??? That I completely forgot about!!?

- A TMNT/ATLA CROSSOVER FIC??? Oh my god, my conceited brain just wanted turtles who were also benders.

- A Kingsman AU of the BBC Merlin where the immortal Merlin founded the Kingsman and he was waiting for Arthur to come up and become Arthur and also he had to deal with all these Camelot assholes.

And I also cannot believe that the first fic that I am probably going to post on my AO3 in so long is a self-indulgent Code Black fic about Angus and Mario.

happy tuesday

soloproject — Tue, 21 Feb 2017 03:11:18 GMT

Tuesday is my first day of school every week, so Saturday until I leave around 4 for campus is usually left for me to spiral through anywhere from loneliness to anxiety. But since I've picked up Livejournal again lately, I've also been sifting through old entries and posts! There was a time circa 2010 where I drew so much and so well but it was also when I was in the throes of fandom. These days, I am a fan of things but I haven't been involved in so much fandom lately, just on the fringe as a fan of things. Frankly, I haven't been indulging in as much drawing of fanart but maybe it's the key to my full enjoyment? I'll have to do it to find out.

Last Sunday, I had a lovely brunch with my friend Juliette, it was very indulgent and very out of our budget but it was also just the thing to helping us feel a bit more human in this transient space we are both in at the moment. We have similar situations-- I'm lucky enough to have money to study and she is working as a paid intern but we are not by any means wealthy or have money to blow. So what to do when you live in a city where enjoyment depends so much on mobile and monetary mobility.

So, if anyone is reading this on their feed...what are you doing these days? I started LJ when I was a high school freshman and carried on until 2015. Are you married? Do you have kids? Are you in fandoms? Are you sharing your fandoms? Are you balancing this with a career? Have you made your interests part of your career? I would love to know.

truth bombs

soloproject — Sun, 19 Feb 2017 15:20:51 GMT

Sunday night. Sitting at my desk where I wanna be. But wait, this post isn't going to be a downer but when you're a sociable woman of means, with a circle of friends and everyone just wants to keep going out and doing this and that and running all over the city, sometimes you have to put your foot down and say, hey. Listen. Sometimes a hoe just wants to sleep early.

Today I went to brunch, I went to get an ëxpress"mani+pedi (which is when they just clean up your nails without any of spa frills) and got sidelined doing a little shopping and went with a friend to pick up something she left at another friend's apartment...that's about 1.5 things more than my daily no more than 2 daily upheavals quota. On a Sunday. And it was fun! But also tiring. There were many conversations about how people interact, stereotyping, "male feminists", how unfair is unfair and other topics that can only be brought about by cheap Tiger beer.

The day before was also tiring in a way: we went swimming and went to dinner at my aunt and uncle's house before heading back. My uncle is about 3 weeks clear of some major brain surgery and he's up and about, healing well, which is great but he says he's so bored and starved for things to do so he's basically cooking and walking everyday, trying to reorganize the house and raise a preteen who is increasingly crankier by the day. I better invite him out to some museum or gallery or something before he explodes.

I also went to a workshop at the National Library for an art journaling workshop which was really nice, actually! And anyway, it was free, and forced me to draw. Which is always good.

interdisciplinary wotzit

soloproject — Fri, 17 Feb 2017 15:17:07 GMT

Today's class in Interdisciplinary Thinking was so frustrating! On top of that I feel a little brain dead and somewhat tired as my sleep schedule continues to be fucked and I can never turn my brain off. Still, as usual today we opened class with a movie that we generally use as a case study (since my professor finds it boring to use regular/real cases-- so sad) as a launching pad for the day's ask, which is we break down the variables involved in problem solving: problem, problem space, stakeholder perspective, context, thinking methodology and the like and have a lively debate keeping those aspects in mind.

My first general issue is that when we use movies and try to keep only that information in mind, we never truly have a complete picture of the problem. There's not enough information, not to mention characters are only multidimensional to a point.

My second general issue is a lack of understanding of the context. We are in Singapore, in Asia, where the problem solving mechanics are vastly different from the context of the problem. So in the realm of confronting an issue happening in, say, Boston, early 2000s, rough neighborhood, child abduction case, is frustratingly argued within an ethics mindset not suited to it. Although the mental stretch is fine for an interdisciplinary thought exercise, I was afraid that the topic was ill-suited; I wish my professor would've chosen a case set in an education setting at least (Waiting for Superman, Dead Poet's Society, The Emperor's Club or something), then we can talk in the realm of our interest (We're all taking our Master in Education Management).

Anyway, it helps that I'm writing about this because I can straighten out my thoughts. At the very least, it was incredible helpful to go through the motions of actually identifying key points of the argument so we could reach the actual point of finding a solution.

art

soloproject — Thu, 16 Feb 2017 15:25:07 GMT

Today I didn't have class but I went to school for a "tea with the Dean" kind of thing. It was a small group, just 7 people bothered to go. Which was sad because the dean mentioned he had to step out of a still ongoing meeting just to do this and also because it seems the grad students aren't very social/don't give a shit.

However, being able to sit and ask a lot of questions directly to the dean was good because I was able to clarify some stuff that's been hanging over my head for a while, mainly about research opportunities. I did make at least one friend, so we shall see how that goes. My biggest gripe at the moment is the unsocial nature of the grad students somewhat. For an international school and one who consistently makes the top of the lists of school with the youngest average aged population, a lot of my classmates are timid and solitary. It also makes group work intensely difficult to coordinate. Squeezing opinions out of them is even worse. I hope this is not going to be the trend in my experience. I envy my friends in other programs who say that they're almost tired of the level of socializing they do on top of their studies.

I also with D, who is a friend I made who is doing an exchange at the Arts College. We've been speaking a lot about our art, what we would like to pursue, our philosophies and such like today over two gigantic pizzas. We also like Steven Universe and a lot of other things, so we talk about that.

Today as a whole was undoubtedly a cranky one. I couldn't express my unsettled feelings about life in Singapore to F, even after solid conversations with J last night over beers. I am going to try and blog about this regularly, even just to get my thoughts straight. I was also able to read through a bunch of fanfic WIPs and I have a goal to finish one before the end of this month. It's going to be probably something out of left field, either my HP Mauraders AU or the ParaNorman one. But the goal is to finish something.

It is funny what one misses when one is not there. There are a lot of things going on in Manila that is giving me major FOMO but this is the track I picked and so I have to make the best of that too.

testing, testing

soloproject — Wed, 15 Feb 2017 05:08:24 GMT

I am going to try getting back on LiveJournal because it is time to write. My life update: I have moved to Singapore for grad school, FINALLY. Not the finally of Singapore but the finally of getting over myself and applying to grad school, getting in and now I'm here. It is something that I have put off for a horrible amount of time. Now I am 31, single, gf/aro/f and I have to figure all of this out before my head explodes.

I am constantly warring among my own states, particularly the logical scholar who loves her work and the passionate artist who can't see a future in that but can't not do it anyway. I have laid a short list of goals that I should accomplish this year. It's not much.

- Put out a portfolio and a good body of work, if not for something then to my satisfaction.
- Do not do more than two major upheavals a day. Ex, on school days, one is school/class and then one other thing.
- I have successfully fucked up my sleep schedule, as I knew I would but in the process also mucked up any hope for fitness, taking my meds regularly, etc. I know I have anxiety and mild depression at best but I also know that being out and walking makes me feel better, instead of giving in to sleeping, which I can do up to 12 hours or more for no reason. As a result, I feel tired and that's no good, especially when I have school work. Fix this now.
- Stay in touch, reach out to people and keep solidly reminding them that you are here for them, that you exist, that you are available even virtually and also remind them when you can't.
- Writing. I would like to release some kind of e-book. Clean out my WIPs. Satisfy myself, even if it's just fanfic, even if it's just an LJ entry.

Reverse BB!!

soloproject — Sat, 13 Jun 2015 15:53:29 GMT

Someone picked my art for Inception reverse bb! Gosh I'm excited, I haven't done anything Fannish in a while. Kind of drew a sort of Mad Max AU where Arthur was one of the wives or half lives and this could get exciting. More on that later.

GUESS WHAT

soloproject — Wed, 22 Apr 2015 01:58:31 GMT

In a glorious reminder of my mortality and humanity, my ATM, debit card and Starbucks card fell out of my wallet yesterday. Granted (and luckily) there was not much money.

Also, I was weirdly more distraught about the loss of my Starbucks card and all its precious drink stars.

And I don't have time until Saturday to get it replaced!! WAUGH.

Times like these really make you question whether you're a functioning adult! In other news, I drove myself to work today and just for context, it is an absolute pleasure to get the car for the day when you're at the bottom of the pecking order for car usage. Even when you get the heap and not the nice car because other people had dibs on it.

I've been on a fanfic craze recently-- both reading AND writing it. I'm hoping to post something soon and it's been a good process that allows me to just let it my stress out. These days I'm reading and re-reading all my fave Inception and H/D but I'm writing Kingsman:SS, HP, and Paranorman. The last one I've been working for for over a year and it is already of interminable length and it shouldn't be!

Good morning, I hope the week has been going well. The school I help manage is on a Summer Break but today I have to do interviews and it is a ghost town here and I am the OIC today and thank god the internet is working.

werk

soloproject — Mon, 13 Apr 2015 13:37:51 GMT

Pros of working in schools: guaranteed breaks! Fun times with school community! Constant learning.

Cons of working in schools: you are a slave to the school calendar.

Anyway, that's me. Lots of deadlines plus heat induced procrastination. It's so hard to work when it's averaging 34 deg (although out there the school I manage, it's more windy so it's not that bad); when I get home, it's much more condensed area and thus, very sweaty.
---
I love Steven Universe! I'm so happy to watch something where my brain isn't squeezing itself in tension.

Recently, I've been having micro panic attacks, sometimes when I'm reading or watching a show, I have to pause suddenly because my mind is going somewhere really scary. For now, I can't go into detail about what's causing those but I have been speaking to people and I know where they originate. I miss having a personal life surrounded by friends who pay attention and I feel isolated where I am. I have really good working relationships that compensate for the fact that my personal life is very isolated right now. I'm trying to steer my family ship as my parents are going through a hard time that has now come to an impasse. My siblings are doing their own thing and I just wish I was back in a community who I could talk to.

I'm also not entirely over my Lola's death (it was back in September 2014, 4 days after my birthday).

Fandoms!

soloproject — Thu, 09 Apr 2015 03:50:47 GMT

Let's talk about those. Once upon a time, I was able to keep my fandoms in small, manageable circles where you get the best excitement over a thing that you love and have feels for. And then Tumblr invaded and suddenly, your mental interface is struggling to code around an infinitely scrolling, unorganized dashboard when you're used to having just a few tabs open. And this dashboard is infinite! And scrolling! And unorganized! And full of pretty things that we cannot ignore.

Anyway, here is a few questions that I designed to help me figure it out and also it would be cool if you wanted to answer it too, why not.

What fan domains do you enjoy?
Anime, Manga, TV, books, comic books, and certain films

A particular...?
For anime and manga, it is sports, hands down. Outside of that genre, One Piece. TV and film varies: I like Steven Universe, Adventure Time, sitcoms, science fiction, Star Trek, MCU, Fast and Furious, Inception. And various comics and webcomics across the board.

Fanfic? Fanart?
I write it! Or I did. And I have been very pan-genre about writing. I post on AO3 and now and then I obsessively go back to hunt for typos and such. I would love to write more.

Fanart, of course but it's way harder to "break" into unless I'm drawing constantly and posting constantly. I'm not good enough for that.

Talk to me about AUs
I LOVE THEM. I will read them. I will read Coffeeshop, College, Kidfic, Regency, Harlequin, Buddy Cop, High School, and more. I tend towards the more slice-of-life, domestic cuddlefic more than anything. But I'll read anything once. I love AUs. I also like plotty, long fic that tackles plot holes but I myself rarely feel the need to explore or dive into anything that deep in my own writing. There are so many better writers out there who are much better at that.

Probably more later.

Reintroduction!

soloproject — Tue, 07 Apr 2015 02:21:20 GMT

Hello! My name is Bunny! 29, ENTP, fave color orange, blood type O, girlish. The evolution of my LJ names: tragicrabbit13 > tsubun > soloproject (and I probably forgot others). I also go by bunanart (tumblr), thebunnyluz (twitter and IG) and other some such that I should probably consolidate at one point of my life when I have more time and less anxiety.

I write, I draw, I frustrate on both. I work as a designer but not what you think. I co-own a group and we design and manage school systems. Yes, it sounds awfully grown up but it's fun and fulfilling and no, I did not expect it to be to this extent. It's also very flexible work that allows me to travel, live comfortably, and still stick my fingers into other pies of discipline.

My last entry was written after I had lived in India for two years between 2010-2012 and I think it was 2012 where my blogging petered out. In early 2012, I was in poor health and landed myself in the ICU in Mumbai, suffering from sepsis and was there for about a week. It was a lonely fragile time and after I got out, my then boyfriend broke up with me and needless to say, I just felt like I needed to get my shit together.

Looking back, it seems that not being able to write about what happened to me (or even try) and losing the habit of journaling that I began at such an early age, I was able to deny or forget a lot of things that happened to me too. Things that were bad, things that were traumatizing in retrospect, things that I didn't know hurt me.

I have been thinking a lot recently about being tough; being so tough that I occasionally catch myself losing compassion. I am going to be 30 soon and I have accomplished so much and done a lot to be proud of and I am afraid that one moment of vulnerability is somehow going to erase all that.

Anyway, I am challenging myself to get back into the small things that make me happy- fandom, expression, and just straight up stream of consciousness writing like what's happening now!

And let's please let's just talk about all the things we like too. I want to talk about sparkly ships and potato chips and mabel and dips and tom hardy's lips and internet slips.

testing the LJ waters again

soloproject — Mon, 06 Apr 2015 03:28:29 GMT

Hello, if people are in fact still reading and following. I have been very bad at the blogging habit and daresay it hasn't worked out too well for me. Tumblr is good although very bad for productivity and there's not much conversation happening. I was on LJ for so long and then I fell off for long, lured by the exciting prospect of other media channels like IG.

Anyway, I started LJ in the second year of high school and this is where I met many friends through various fandoms and RPs and the like. This year I will be 30 (!!) and I guess I want to get back that feeling of community that's been fading from my system, struggle though I might to maintain it. So, yes, I will be processing a lot of what's been happening to me recently. And it has been a lot. And probably, going back through my entries to see how I've grown.

Fun Fact-- it's been almost a year to the day since I last posted here.

Ye olde LJ days

soloproject — Tue, 08 Apr 2014 04:27:46 GMT

Hey I miss those! LJ was my first ever blog site.

Wonder if anyone else is active here. I'm mostly on tumblr now, juggling being an adult, eternal artist angst, etc., etc., but if anyone here is here who knew me from before, hello. Hello hello hello.

[Fic] Coulson/Barton; R

soloproject — Sat, 14 Apr 2012 08:24:10 GMT

[Follows me into the woods, takes me home]

Summary: Barista AU, Phil is a coffee shop businessman living a simple life; Clint is an assistant city manager with an attitude. There is a Stony setup in there somewhere, which will be part 2 when I find time to write it.
A/N: Many liberties have been taken, the Avengers do not belong to me, etc. It's also barely beta'd so mistakes are mine.

Phil Coulson was a simple man with simple needs: stable finances, good friends, trusted vendors, a great neighborhood and a perfect cup of coffee.

Coulson and Sons was a small bakery and coffee shop on the East side that had been there for a generation. When his parents ran it, it was more like a deli but since taking over Phil had refurbished it to be an artisan coffee space to cater to the young hipster and yuppie crowd. Business was pretty good.

Phil retained the original layout, replacing only furniture, adding art and refurbishing the dark wood surfaces of the place. The meat slicing machines had been replaced by vintage looking high end copper plated espresso machines. He had eventually bought out the Chinese take-out place next door and redid the kitchen for their use. It was a large investment. After years of law enforcement, one failed relationship and a work-related injury, Phil decided he would take over the place after his father retired. Old workmates liked the place too, because Phil kept it open unofficially sometimes and he always had beer in a cooler in the back.

“Phil! Phil, I need a big one of the Fury and I need it now!” A tall black man said, bursting into the shop. Phil looked up from the registry. Nicolas Fury was a part-time professor and full time activist. They had been friends for years and had met because Nick spent a lot of time calling in leads to the police as a kind of hobby. He had lost his eye in Iraq or Afghanistan or one of those places and worked occasionally as a strategic consultant and game theorist for the military. He was one of those minds that constantly needed a lot of coffee.

One day, tired of listening to Nick rant against the evils of a soul-sucking corporation like Starbucks, Phil had pulled out a bag of beans he’d been saving for a special occasion, a Columbian bean with a deep, bold flavour profile and brewed Nick a double shot Americano. Nick took one sip and sighed, “That’s the shit, motherfucker.” And thus, the Fury was born.

The Fury was popular with the midnight oil burning crowd. Steve, who was an artist friend of Phil’s, made a label and a sign for the store “Warning: High Levels of Caffeine, Not for the Faint of Heart” replete with a menacing cartoon of Nick’s face, eye patch and all.

“What’s the occasion?” Phil asked, shooting an apology to the person who was next in line. He quickly made Nick’s coffee and handed it over, mentally adding it to the tab that he knew would never be paid.

“Some motherfuckers want to buy out the block! We’re protestin’!” Phil winced as Nick slugged back half the drink. Sometimes he wondered if Nick’s injury had taken out some nerve endings as well. He always wore beanie and a leather coat even in the summer and he didn’t seem to sweat.

“Wait, this block?” Phil asked, coming out from around the counter. “Maria, I’m going to go take a look with Nick.” He called to his assistant manager.

There was a small group of distressed looking people standing around on the corner, eyeing the group across the street surveying the area.

“What’s going on?” Phil asked Darcy, the perpetually bored looking grad student who worked part time at the music store next door.

“Nothing yet but looks like a takeover.” Darcy said. “It sucks. I don’t want to have to go anywhere new to get coffee and you make the best stuff.” She added, somewhat gloomily.

“Not going anywhere.” Phil assured her. A flashy looking car pulled up to the curb and parked somewhat haphazardly.

“Oh my god,” Darcy breathed. “Is that car really purple? That’s so heinous.”

A man got out of the car and walked up to the group. He was well-built, good looking, roughly the same height as Phil and snarkily dressed in business clothes. He pulled off his
sunglasses and grinned at the crowd.

“Hey everyone, small and medium business owners alike, my name is Clint Barton,” he shook a few hands. Phil hung back and watched him work the crowd. “There’s nothing to see here, we’re not currently looking into rebuilding anything, just some infrastructural improvement planning for city management.”

“That’s how it starts, Barton,” Nick said, poking a finger into Clint’s chest. “And I suppose you put the ‘man’ in management?”

“Actually,” Clint said, pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. “I put the ‘gem’ in ‘management’,” he said, actually pronouncing it with the emphasis on gem.

Phil had to bite his own grin back. “Listen, I’m here as city management PR to listen to all your questions and comments, complaints, wild reactions, etcetera—here is my card.” Clint started handing it out. “If there is a light busted, a sidewalk cracked or whatever, you call that number, I will hear you out or come see you personally. The next few weeks, I’m all yours.” Clint grinned and clapped his hands. “Cool? Cool? Cool.” His eyes met Phil’s for a second and a moment passed, electric, over the heads of everyone there. Phil looked away first.

The next few days were busy. With summer upon them, there were a lot of kids with free time, coming in for iced coffees and teas and homemade ice cream that Phil always put out every summer. There were a lot of frazzled dads needing some of The Fury and Phil always ordered extra whip and other fixings for blended concoctions of all kinds. He wasn’t above the fancy coffee drink—it was like chemistry to him. Plus he never liked to feature the same flavours and combinations all the time. Once there were a few featured inventions set up, they never made another appearance in the store for the season. This week, it was an icy coffee and banana blend with berry syrup and whipped cream and nuts, “The Phil B and J” and a green tea and blackberry ice blend that Darcy called the “GTB Cool-son” which was becoming popular. Why Phil allowed his friends to give his inventions rotten, pun-riddled names was beyond him but he had to admit, it was catchy.

Today, Steve was in the store, biting his lip and agonizing over some background studies he was creating for a video game. Steve Rogers was a captain in the army before he was honourably discharged and set about pursuing his first love of art. Steve was a textbook all-American of the Norman Rockwell ideal. He didn’t swear, he didn’t drink, he worked out and he only ever came to Coulson’s for any of the three dozen fancy teas and cheese danishes Phil had baked fresh every day. But he was a good man and he liked drawing labels and signs for Phil for sweet teas and cheese danishes. It was fair trade because at 6 feet 2 inches and 240 pounds, it was a lot of danishes which Natasha had to make.

Natasha Romanova worked out of Phil’s converted kitchen part-time as his baker but to his knowledge, she was also a martial arts instructor, part-time model and god knows what else. Cool-headed and gorgeous, she was in the kitchen at 4 AM sharp, turning out the pastries, pies and cookies for the day, before heading off to teach Brazilian jujitsu or whatever at 10 am. Once in a while, she would take leave to fly to some on location photoshoot and Phil would order the goods from another supplier but people could always tell a Romanova puff pastry from anything else.

Maria Hill was Phil’s right hand and took care of the store front. Tough and efficient, they knew each other from growing up in the neighborhood where Maria was basically queen of the playground. They worked part-time and summers at Coulson’s and Maria had already been running the store by the time Phil took over. Together they had revitalized the place. Maria was invaluable and the one time Phil and her had conflicted was only when Phil tried to sign half the ownership to her. They compromised with Phil insisting he pay her more than he paid himself and by letting her make most of the business decisions. It meant Phil was stuck with the paperwork and the creative side, which was the coffee.

The bell over the door rang as it opened and Clint Barton walked in, immediately commanding the room. He flashed an infectious smile to everyone and Phil’s own mouth quirked a little too. A frazzled looking man trailed after him, looking stressed, his tie askew and Clint propelled him to the counter.

“Bruce needs some calming tea. As calming as possible, but not quite sleepy time,” Clint told Phil.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Clint, I wasn’t angry. The other man was just…wrong.” He frowned when Maria brought him a steaming cup of green tea with a lemon slice in it and put it right into his hands. “That table is free over there.” She smiled and Bruce gave her a grateful wobble.

“Oh damn, that’s good tea.” he said, shooting Maria a grateful look. He shuffled over to the table and sat, striking up a conversation with Steve.

Clint was scrutinizing the menu. “Cool-sons?” He asked Phil, laughter in his eyes.

“Just a dumb nickname for the ice blended stuff we play around with sometimes,” Phil replied, rolling his eyes a little.

“It’s cute.” Clint said. “Make one for me.”

“What kind?”

“Make one up. You look like a man who knows what his customers want.” Clint said, innocently.

The drink Phil handed to Clint was an old school vanilla egg cream with dark chocolate lightly marbling it. He’d tossed in a handful of mixed berries on top for a little cheek and drizzled it with a double-shot of espresso.

“Fuck me, that’s so good.” Clint mumbled around his straw after sucking down a quarter of it. “You gotta put this on the menu. Call it the Barton because it’s so sexy.”

“That’s a onetime only drink, Barton. What do you want?”

Clint opened one eye, his lips still around the straw. “It’s my lunch break. I wanted a coffee and a cheese Danish from the legendary Coulson and Sons.”

“Are you making the rounds with your accountant over there, maybe trying to talk people out of giving up their livelihoods?”

“First of all,” Clint said. “Bruce is a financial analyst and we’re not terrorizing the neighborhood, we’re just making sure the improvements are within budget.” He grinned and then to Phil’s horror, started scooping some of the concoction with his fingers. He popped a cherry into his mouth and winked at Phil. “Why are you suspicious? We’re just humble public servants.”

“Sure, and public servants drive cars like that and swagger in and out of places, demanding personal service?”

Clint grinned. “I won’t lie. I had a high paying job before I decided to give back. Occupy yadda yadda…and you made me the drink, which you didn’t have to do. Also, did you just say you liked my swagger?”

“He got you there,” Steve chimed in, his huge hands wrapped around Bruce’s head, giving him some kind of massage. Between the tea and the head massage, Bruce looked nearly catatonic.
Phil’s face grew a little hot. “Look, my dad started this place and I’m a guy who likes plans. And if you think that I never thought up what to do in case there was a risk of losing this place, you’re wrong.”

Clint stared back at him a bit. “If you like plans, we should make some.” He said suddenly. “And then you can tell me of your other plans. I like plans. I’m more of a throw-them-to-the-wind kind of guy but, plans, I can dig ‘em.”

For a moment, things were quiet while everyone chewed on that. And then Steve had to go ruin everything with “Yeah, you should go show him your secret taqueria place.”

“Yeah, Phil, I can keep a secret,” Clint said, grinning hard enough to break his face.

“Dinner with the enemy?!” Nick practically spit-sprayed Phil with a combination of blueberry muffin and beer.

“It’s Steve’s fault,” Phil said, glaring across the table at Steve and slamming down his hand of cards. “I’m out.”

“He likes you! It’s so obvious,” Steve said, studying his cards. Every second Friday, Steve, Nick, Phil, Maria, Natasha and occasionally Peter, who was in college and worked there part time, set up a poker game in the front room. It was a cheat night, so they ate all the leftover baked goods that didn’t sell and sometimes did vodka shots. It was a tradition for Coulson and Friends that the night end badly and whoever had the worst hangover had to run the counter in the morning when it was busiest for half a day. So far, Natasha and Steve had
never had done it, which was so totally unfair.

“Corporate espionage!” Nick said, banging his fist on the table. “You have to find out if
he’s looking to privatize with some company to save the city some money. Maybe some asshole is looking for re-election.”

“I think you are touched in the head. I’m not scared of him.” Phil scowled at the table.

“And yet, you’re showing him your secret taqueria place.” Natasha glared back. “There is a reason, Phil. Why it is a SECRET.” She slammed her winning hand down on the table.

“They make the best tacos and if some hipster like Clint knows, he’s going to tell everyone,” Maria muttered as the table shuffled their chips towards Natasha.

“It’s Steven’s fault, blame Steve,” Phil threw his hand up in defeat. In truth, he knew, he could’ve said no, he could’ve turned up the sternness but Clint was looking at him so guilelessly that he found himself agreeing.

“You could’ve said no, Coulson.” Steve muttered. “Although I know I swore not to tell everyone about the secret taqueria place and I’m really sorry about that.”

“Who else did you tell, Rogers!?” Natasha snapped. Maria scowled and punched him in the arm. “Who else did you tell or I’m going to tell everyone about…your stash.”

“Whoa! You have a stash? I bet it’s some good stuff too, Rogers, didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s good to share?” Nick said.

“No,” Natasha said, coolly. “Not that kind of stash. Just a bunch of memorabilia Steve collects of a certain high profiler he has a crush on.”

“Bucky! I took Bucky there when he was in town. And Peggy Carter but we’re old friends, so it’s totally okay.” Steve protested, face turning bright red. “And Logan, you know he can keep a secret.”

“That better be it.” Maria said, glaring at him. “You know the secrecy makes everything more delicious.”

“Get out of here.” Maria insisted, pushing Phil a little. “Go on your date with Barton.”

“It’s not a date.” Phil insisted. If it was, there would be more effort, more scrutinizing of outfits and checking for smells. Phil knew how it worked, he’d done it before. But he was dressed casually, as he was every day for work, probably smelling of a dreadful mix of food and beverage smells and there was zero effort involved. Hence, it wasn’t a date. Just one guy telling another guy his best kept secret.

“I think Barton thinks it’s a date.” Peter Parker said as he deftly packed coffee into the espresso machine. “I mean, check it out.”

Sure enough, the purple monstrosity smoothly parallel parked in front of the store and Clint came out of it, looking fit and perfect, if annoyingly preppy in cargo shorts and a button down. He whistled as he came into the store and beamed at Phil so much that Phil couldn’t help but smile back. Phil balled his apron and handed it to Maria.

“Hungry? Let’s go.”

“Are we driving?” Clint asked.

“Let’s walk, it’s not far.”

“But if we walk, we can’t make out in the car later.” Clint said, frankly.

“That is so not going to happen, Barton,” Phil chuckled.

“These are the best tacos I have ever eaten in my life. And I have been to Mexico many times and eaten in a great many Mexican households whose matrons have insisted theirs was unlike any others.” Clint moaned around a mouthful of his sixth helping.

Phil ate his a little more primly. “Did you not eat all day in anticipation of this or something?”

“I may have skipped second lunch.” Clint informed him, snarfing another taco in two bites. “I think we better order some more.”

“You might not have any more room for another secret.” Phil said, lightly.

“You have more secrets? I like you, Coulson.” Clint said, dusting crumbs off his hands. “Take me to this next secret.”

It wasn’t really a secret, not as secret as the taco place but the gelato at Santerelli’s was homemade with fresh ingredients and the place was rare rooftop spot overlooking the New York skyline.

“We should do this again.” Clint said as they took their ice cream and sat in one of the Central Park style bench set around the perimeter of the rooftop, facing outward.

“I don’t know about that.” Phil said, licking at his tiramisu gelato. “Kind of a conflict of interests, don’t you think?”

“I’m really not the enemy here,” Clint said, kicking at the floor. “It’s just work. I hate to see this neighborhood go just as much as you. It’s not a 100% reality that it won’t stay the same and it’s true that industrialists have their eyes set on the area. I won’t lie to you, its prime real estate but I grew up not far from here for a while, one of my foster homes…one of the better ones, anyway.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Phil looked up to see Clint looking at him.

“But I want to see it stay the same too. Its places like this that makes New York so great. Places like your hole in the wall.” Clint nudged Phil’s knee with his. “And your vast archive of secrets.”

“All holes in walls, I don’t know what is so impressive about that.” Phil said, matter of factly.

“I think you’re pretty impressive. It’s pretty obvious you’re the pillar of the community here.”

“I’m just a guy who likes to make coffee, Barton.”

After that, Clint showed up to the coffee shop nearly every day, insisting on a new flavour of something or another. Phil managed to say no around 50% of the time but then Clint caught on that Phil was more likely to do it if he brought a customer with him, so he’d wound up meeting a Hank, a Janet, one Jarvis and Bobbi, the ex-wife.

“My best friend, too and a super tough broad,” Clint said, after extolling the virtues of Phil’s ability to make perfect cappuccino foam. Bobbi was one of those tall, patrician blondes with a can-do air but she had warm eyes and an easygoingness about her that was probably why Clint had fallen for her.

“And why didn’t it work out?” Phil mustered asking, handing Clint a shortbread cookie half dipped in white chocolate.

“Eventually I realized I kinda swung the other direction,” Clint said, giving Phil such a naughty, heated look that Phil had to cough and pound at his chest a little. “Also, she is a bitch,” he added, fondly.

“Get outta here, Barton.”

“Phil,” Clint ventured, while Phil went to get a drink of water. “Come over tonight, I’ll make you dinner.”

“I’d like that,” Phil found himself saying.

Clint lived, as expected, in some ritzy area in downtown Manhattan but his building was surprisingly low-key. Clint opened the door in jeans and a Neutral Milk Hotel t-shirt with an apron over it, spattered liberally with tomato sauce.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I made a lasagne.”

“Meat and cheese, works for me.” Phil said, stepping into the place. It was neat and the furnishings were nearly Spartan but the pieces seemed worn and loved. There were bookshelves packed with books and, to Phil’s amusement, the wires of the electronics were neatly bunched and secured with little twist ties, not like the snarled mess of his setup at home.

“Just make yourself at home,” Clint said, dashing back to the kitchen.

“I’ll put this in the fridge. German chocolate cake,” Phil said, setting the bottle of red wine on the dining table, set with plates he recognized from Ikea. Clint was definitely a bachelor.

“That woman is a goddess,” Clint said, shoving his hands into rubber stove puppets. “Make way, it’s going to be hot.”

The food was good, the company better. Phil wondered when the last time was that he felt comfortable in this setting—it had definitely been a while. When he was on the force, the guys had known and hadn’t really given him shit for it but that was a time when work was all on his mind so he never did have a chance to concentrate on his relationships. There was one and it was going well but he and Ben were ultimately addicted to work and couldn’t bring themselves to promise more than that.

Phil was feeling loose by the time the bottle of wine and the cake—the whole cake—was gone and he moved to gather up the dishes and take them to the sink. Clint came up behind him and tentatively wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist.

“You don’t have to do that,” Clint said. “You’re my guest.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Phil said, quietly and, taking a deep breath, he turned around in the circle of Clint’s arms.

“Can I kiss you, Phil? Because I’ve been wanting to do it for so long. I fucking wooed you, man,” Clint smiled softly at him. “I showed you off to my ex-wife.”

“I thought she was your best friend,” Phil said, reaching up to dig his fingers into Clint’s scalp.

“Sure, let’s call her that,” Clint said, leaning into to touch his mouth to Phil’s.

It was dirty almost instantly. Phil opened his mouth and let Clint’s tongue in and they slid against each other for a while like that before Clint broke off, eyes bright, to nuzzle at Phil’s jaw and down his neck, worrying a spot that made Phil hang onto the edge of the counter. And then Clint dropped to his knees and put his face into Phil’s crotch and Phil shuddered a little in anticipation.

“Phil, hang in there, I need you to hang in there for me. I just want to do this for you.” Clint opened Phil’s pants and took out his cock, hard and red and slid it past his lips. The sight was almost too much for Phil and he had to take huge breaths and stare at the ceiling. Clint sucked him down and then squeezed Phil’s thighs with a surprisingly strong grip. “Hang in there, Phil.” Clint smiled at him wickedly and stood, stretching out a bit before leaning into to kiss him again.

“Come to the bedroom, I want you to fuck me,” Clint whispered into his mouth.

Clint’s bedroom was neat like the rest of the house but the bed was straight out of a catalog for lustful sinners. It was bit high off the floor and the sheets on it were at least 1000 thread count. Clint looked sheepish. “This is where the magic happens.”

But then he tipped Phil into it and straddled him fast, stripping off his shirt to reveal tight, lean muscle. Compared to him, Phil was maybe a little pudgy but hey, he was in the food service industry so who could blame him. Phil watched, frozen, as Clint climbed out of his jeans and set to work preparing himself, rocking over Phil’s thighs and sliding his fingers inside himself.

“I imagined it like this with you inside me,” Clint said, smirking and Phil pushed him over and rolled on top, kissed him and helping work one finger inside Clint too, swallowing groans that came out of the other man. A quick trip to the side table for a condom and the lube and soon Phil was sliding into Clint slowly, trying to make it last while he pressed small kisses along Clint’s jaw.

“Oh god,” Phil groaned, once fully sheathed and then, “oh god,” he groaned in misery, coming almost instantly after one tiny shift of his hips. He dropped his forehead onto Clint’s shoulder. “Sorry.”

To his dismay, Clint giggled. He shot an apologetic look at Phil and then dissolved into laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He said, while Phil slid out and rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh my god, stop laughing, I’m not a young man, anymore!” Phil said. Clint rolled and threw his hand over Phil’s waist, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“You should’ve seen your face. It was adorable.” Clint said, giggling even more.

“I’m leaving,” Phil said, flatly.

“You’re not,” Clint said, kissing his shoulder.

“Seriously I am, let me up,” Phil said, without any fight in his tone.

“Not until you help me with the dishes,” Clint said, grabbing Phil’s hand and dragging it down to his still hard dick.

“Hey,” Darcy said, coming into the coffee shop. “Can I get whatever’s on tap?”

Phil went to fill a big mug, just as he knew she liked it. “Don’t you normally work at this hour?”

“Nah, the store’s closing, some real estate agency came and bought out the space.”

“Really?” Phil knew the proprietors of that store for years.

“Yeah, a bunch of people are doing the same. Stark Realty,” Darcy said. “You got some part time work for me, Coulson?” She asked.

“Ask Maria later,” he told her.

“Cool.”

“Look at this!” Nick said, bursting through the door as he always did. He tossed a folded newspaper on the counter. STARK REALTY NEIGHBORHOOD TAKEOVER, the headline read. The picture was taken on the steps of city hall of Tony Stark at the press conference.

“We’re not looking to take away the charm of the neighbourhood, just looking to bring more business into the boroughs and take out some of the heat from Manhattan. People should enjoy the diversity of New York beyond Central Park, Times Square or other Gossip Girl related shenanigans. Show them that the neighbourhoods are more than just a bunch of holes in the walls.” Tony Stark shared. According to City Hall, Stark has more than enough claim to the valuable real estate—his father, the late Industrialist Howard Stark developed the land in the Depression era and vastly improved the living standards of the place, bringing more jobs and less crime to the borough. Assistant City Manager Clinton Barton has told journalists that the risk analyses have been in motion for weeks and there are rumours that Stark Industries will soon move to offer compensation to business owners to free up space before auctioning to the highest corporate bidders.

Phil’s mouth pressed hard enough into a line.

“Your boyfriend’s been helping,” Nick said.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious, but he’s not my boyfriend,” Phil said, just as Clint walked in.
Nick glared at Clint. “You talk to him, Phil because I can’t even.” Nick said, striding out.
“Oh boy, I was hoping you wouldn’t see that before I could explain,” Clint said, coming up to the counter.

“I am all ears,” Phil said, scrubbing the counter a little angrier than he intended.

“It’s not the whole borough—look, Phil, I admit, City Hall has been charged with letting Tony do his thing. We figured he’d run out of steam and then forget about it after a while—he has that reputation after all. We go through this with him every other year or so.”

“So you’re telling me that city management lets Stark loose on New York city boroughs every now and then like it’s his own personal playground? People live here! People work here and raise their kids here and—“

“—and meet people here, people they like and want to be with, etcetera.” Clint put his hands down very tentatively on top of Phil’s. If the counter wasn’t between them, Phil would have probably pulled him into a hug.

“Look, you tell Tony the next time you see him, that there is a very annoyed pillar of the community who is going to come down very hard on him if he even tries.”

“I’ll try to warn him. But god, you’re sexy when you’re grumpy.” Clint said.

Phil cleared his throat. “Your place or mine?”

-END-

Writer's Block: Father figure

soloproject — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 11:09:17 GMT

"It is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission." XD

Best advice ever, thanks pa :D

From Twitter 05-15-2011

soloproject — Sun, 15 May 2011 19:02:41 GMT

12:38:39: Ma, Dad, Raj and myself--- Delhi (SO HOT /y this hellish torment) +Agra to see the Taj Mahal!! But I missed them so much, am really happy!
12:46:24: @nobiyehey Abbi didn't come :( Sad but she couldn't get off work. She'll come some other time!
12:49:52: Braving the heat for one last day in Delhi and then bringing the fam to mah neighborhood The Bombay! Can't wait! /Original Gangster!
19:15:27: @nobiyehey Except nobody would enjoy basking in the sun like it is at the moment.
19:18:09: 42°C in Delhi...why are you doing this to me? In other news, 31°C -- good job, Mumbai! I'm back there tonight, home sweet home.
19:20:08: @absterabsss But it has that wicked cool delivery system
19:22:18: Things I miss: @LishaCrasto
19:23:02: My Lola Carmen (grandmother) is in the hospital...hope she's better.

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From Twitter 05-12-2011

soloproject — Thu, 12 May 2011 19:02:25 GMT

14:34:56: Happy happy Abbi day! Happy happy Abbi day! SHE'S CUUUUTE @absterabsss love you, baby sis!
14:49:32: @MichaReinhold http://twitpic.com/4wdcrt - why do you keep posting pictures of food, this is torture
14:50:57: My parents and baby bro @Raj_Luz are in Delhi!! Flying in tomorrow to meet them!!! Cons: at 4:40 AM, oh my god why did I book this flight.
23:10:32: T minus 10 hours til mommy and daddy time :D

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From Twitter 05-11-2011

soloproject — Wed, 11 May 2011 19:03:08 GMT

14:43:41: @absterabsss hahah brief me so I'm ready!
14:47:27: @absterabsss don't listen to her @Raj_Luz --she jeaaaaaaalouz
14:57:36: @absterabsss @Raj_Luz What did you get for your birthday? And I will send you these fantastical dresses and scarves upon return!
15:56:15: Thwarted attempt at locating and imbibing mythical lassi with scotch at Veda, Palladium Mall last night. Still, the quest continues.
16:18:55: @thYsai No, she went to a different part of India. I only had her 3 days in April. Ma, pa and RAJ coming tomorrow and I will go meet them :)
16:57:33: @dcpswann @coffeebased http://bit.ly/l8fJ7I A Biologist's Mother's Day Song :) <3
21:10:16: 6:30 is such an ideal time to end work. There's still come light out, I'm not too braindead...but of course my shift ends in 2 hrs instead.
21:56:40: @absterabsss Gratuitous picture of yourself

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From Twitter 05-10-2011

soloproject — Tue, 10 May 2011 19:02:35 GMT

20:46:41: @absterabsss But even I am petite enough now to buy from Zara kids. And I'm not ashamed to admit it!
20:47:12: @combat @sonicdrill Ladies, I need to know what's the best brand of Kaya jam IYHO :D
20:51:33: @sonicdrill @combat AREN'T THERE? I was thinking of making it at home instead but my cousin might get me some when he passes through SG.
21:01:57: @sonicdrill @combat Definitely not a mis-STEAK :D

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