The Cracksmashers have requested a smattering of words related to our recurring themes. Here there are.
Ahhh!! I’m gonna have to save this for when I have more time. …Probably at the end of the term or something. But I’d love to do this!
And here we reach the end. For it I went with a style that I don’t write from often. There is a vague mention so I put a trigger warning in the tags to be safe. Thank you everyone for reading!
Collected at AO3.
Ahhh, I read this while I was on the go earlier, but I honestly can’t put into words how much I love this. The recurring “no future for you” and eventually “future for you” (and not just that, but with the ‘no’ CROSSED OUT) is so, so powerful. And the great feeling of hope that’s instilled, not just, clearly, in Bruce, but in the reader as well is just simply wonderful. Bright, warm, and fuzzy. The clouds part from the sky by the end of this and the sun just shines. Amazing work and what a great, great finish! <333
Peter Parker’s family has never been exceptionally big. The only time a large crowd of people has ever celebrated his birth was during that one lavish party his parents and May and Ben had thrown when he was just a baby. Other than that, it has only ever been the five of them at Uncle Ben and Aunt May’s circular dining room table.
The dining hall is buzzing with the chatter of the guests. The lighting is a slightly dimmed yellow – comfortable, intimate. On the dais sits Mary Parker, who holds her newborn son in her arms, playing with his tiny fingers, and Richard Parker, who scratches at Peter’s stomach.
The halls of memory are bright – blindingly bright. It’s impossible to see the present surroundings. Truthfully, it’s been so long since Peter’s been at this house that he barely remembers what it looks like. But he does remember a voice. A light, delicate, singing voice.
It is August of 2002. Peter Parker is just about eight-years-old and it has been seven months since he’s last seen his parents.
Referencing a lot of CS here, and using a letter I’d already written. Hahahaha, cheating.
Collected at AO3.
This whole piece, but particularly that very last section here, is so well-worded. I absolutely love the way you describe the kiss. Honestly, I’ve been anticipating this drabble from you because of all the letters Bruce has written in the RP; I just knew this was going to be heartbreaking, but fantastic. And it certainly, certainly was. Such feels I have! Great job!
The game had not yet begun, but the fans were already cheering. Carefully, Peter, holding a tray with hotdogs in one hand, a foam finger on the other, and a miniature bat tucked into the crook of his arm, and Aunt May, carrying sodas and a bat of her own, made their way to their seats.
No actual mention of the word in this drabble, but there’s lots of scattered thoughts that if you squint you might see how it’s related. Look, I don’t know. It’s a drabble that exists.
Collected at AO3.
Oh gosh, Bruce. :( This is brilliant and tragic at the same time. Dramatic irony at its finest. Bruce is filled with hope by the end of this, but we know how this ends - at least temporarily - and that it isn’t good. Makes my heart ache.
About. Damn. Time. Also, to be safe, trigger warning for mentions of child abuse. Not anything near Mad, though.
Poor Bruce… Very well done. The letter arriving serves perfectly as a moment of horror for the reader, but also, a moment of excitement. Inwardly, we know it isn’t going to be a sweet letter to Bruce, but his hope gives US hope and makes us anticipate it. And, eventually, makes our hearts drop when we see it’s how we sadly expected it might be. Gah, Bruuuuuce.