#based on the two plays of the record i got my roommate to allow me

[madeline-kahn]

@pscentral event 12: take two - 2023 RELEASES + WOMEN

Cuntry Covers Vol. 2 - Bria (insp)

#bria #bria salmena #pscentral #musicedit #blogmusicdaily #musicsourcedaily #usermusic #dailymusicians #dailymusicqueens #my edit #i tried to start it before the album dropped on streaming #based on the two plays of the record i got my roommate to allow me #once i could listen to it properly and the last video came out i changed a lot of my ideas #i worked so hard on this and for why #not one of these videos was the kind of footage i like gifing lol #anyway! the ep was very good #i was expecting the whole thing to sound more like the first two singles #but i love her voice so i am really not complaining #by the time i get to phoenix was my personal standout

[felassan]

Article: ‘Mass Effect & Dragon Age’s cast members on how BioWare builds dynamics’

I spoke to several figures from BioWare juggernauts Dragon Age and Mass Effect, to get a clearer idea of how those iconic team dynamics we associate with the two titles were created. [interviews]

This article is a really neat read. :) Contains character insights, behind-the-scenes info and some reflections on representation.

Some excerpts under the cut due to length:

A huge theme of these interviews, naturally, was BioWare themselves. As well as general praise for the support, the working environment, and the success of the finished product, many singled out individual directors by name, and credited BioWare’s focused approach with getting the best out of them. Hale even claimed they were “the unsung heroes,” that underpinned the whole Mass Effect trilogy. [...]

“Usually there’s almost always a BioWare writer on the line with us, usually up in Canada, when we’re recording. So you’ll have the director, me and one or two BioWare head honchos up there supervising. That’s the way that’s the way it worked on Inquisition too. There’s a really collaborative vibe.” [...]

This consistency across the recording process is likely why the calibre of performance is so high across both trilogies. “The team of writers of BioWare are extraordinary,” Nick Boulton [Male Hawke] says. “So they keep you on track pretty well. The key was having Caroline Livingston, who was directing most of it – all of it, in fact. She would be there to give context notes, and also keep me on the straight and narrow, as far as characterization went. So we were led through very well by the BioWare team.” [...]

Insight on Jack:

Courtenay Taylor describes Jack as being “a very comfortable pair of old stinky sneakers to step into,” and explains that her connection to Jack’s story was a core way she was able to bring it to life. “[Jack has] a pretty familiar psychology that I had. She was very reminiscent of how I was, to some degree, in high school. She’s putting up a barrier to get people to prove themselves, so you have to run the gauntlet in order to get the good stuff. When you’ve been abused as badly as she has, then psychologically one of the tracks you can take is ‘I will not allow myself to be vulnerable’. And that really resonated with me.”

Taylor also says that this guard Jack puts up meant that, ironically, many of the players found it easier to connect with her. “I got really great feedback from a lot of people about struggles that they had had in their personal lives,” she says.

“I think [Jack’s change between Mass Effect 2 & 3] is a smaller story, but it’s a big story for a lot of people. I have a lot of friends who had addiction problems. And quite a few of my friends give back by going back to the community that they’ve come out of, and finding people that need help. At its core, that’s a big, important through line for Jack – every one of us is worthy of love. And it doesn’t matter how difficult you are or how troubled you are or what has happened to you or what someone has done to you. You are worthy of loving and being loved.” [...]

Taylor also saw something personal in her own performance, especially since there weren’t a lot of women like Jack in popular media when Mass Effect 2 launched. “There was a huge amount of love for her because gender/appearance wise, she is something that I felt at that time had not been explored. And I know that some of the things were cut, but in what we originally recorded [Jack was pansexual], and in 2008 or 2009, there weren’t a tonne of conversations about being pansexual,” she says.

“She was a counterpoint to a lot of the other female characters. She was sort of the far end of the spectrum. You’ve got Miranda who’s beautiful and pulled together, but that only serves a certain population. And there are a lot of people that identify as women who could relate to having these feelings and these emotions – she’s not gender specific. To me, she’s angry. And I don’t know that there had been, at that time, a female character who was so not typically female, who was capable of such a range of emotions. She ended up being the permission to a whole group of people who don’t identify with that kind of woman. Because in entertainment, where did that bald girl with a flat chest who was pansexual go? Where do you fit in? And that really resonated with me. If you don’t relate to Miranda, Jack can be a really nice option.”

Insight on Josie:

It’s a sentiment echoed by Allegra Clark, who used a major tragedy in her own life as motivation for the siege of Haven in Dragon Age: Inquisition. “I think the first time you really start to get to know [Josephine] as a person is when she talks about Haven after the attack. That conversation she has about the first people to jump in and protect people being the workers, and how she’s just watching everything be destroyed. I was actually thinking about 9/11, as a New Yorker. So that was a very personal moment for me. But it was those little moments where she starts to open up and blossom that you get to see her as a person.” [...]

For Clark though, those boundaries were much more personal. “When I was told I had booked Josephine, I was just like, ‘I’m a companion in a BioWare game, and a romanceable companion at that’,” Clark says. “I recognised going in that people were going to connect really hard to this character. People are going to have entire playthroughs that are based around romancing Josephine. She helped me explore my own bisexuality, and that is always the thing that that warms my heart the most when people come to me about my LGBTQ+ characters, and say ‘they helped me understand parts of my own identity’. I actually wasn’t out of the closet publicly, or even to parts of my family when I started recording Inquisition. So it was interesting, getting to tell essentially part of my story as well. Before even being able to say to the world ‘hi, I’m bi’ – though all the signs were there. I was in a relationship with another woman at the time. It’s like ‘oh my God, they were roommates!”

Zevran:

While all were full of praise for BioWare’s writing and working environment, the love of actually playing the game was exclusive to Clark. Most others admitted they had never played at all; Curry confessed he had no idea if Zevran was even alive [as he hasn’t played]

Sam Traynor:

“I think Traynor was revolutionary in what she was doing at the time,” Wilton Regan says. “What was so different about Traynor was she wasn’t romanceable for either gender, you had to be playing as FemShep to choose a lesbian love option . And that was so brave of them to do at the time. But it brought us leaps and bounds forwards, because having that inclusivity then makes it just easier for the next game, and for the game today. And now it’s a standard – you should be representative of all sexualities if there are romance options in your games, and increasingly major games pretty much always have some sort of gay, bisexual, lesbian or heterosexual choice. It might not be as fluid as all of the spectrum of sexual choices, but you’ve got a strong variety in comparison to where it was 20 years ago, for example.”

Sam Traynor and Josie:

Part of representing groups that don’t often get representation in video games is that your character gets to become a role model, and that’s something Wilton Regan and Taylor have particularly fond experiences of. “It’s quite flattering and quite lovely to think about,” Wilton Regan says. “I’ve had a lot of lesbians who are coming out of the closet or coming to terms with their sexuality, who’ve come up to me and said that playing FemShep and romancing Traynor was a really big part of that. And lots of bisexual women as well. There’s something just very beautiful about the idea that BioWare has put so much faith and trust in me over the years with these really pivotal roles, and these big, beautiful characters. I feel very humbled by that. Very, very humbled.”

Meanwhile, Taylor wasn’t even sure people would like Jack, so finding out how deeply people related to her was a huge surprise, and she suspects that’s because Mass Effect allows her to be angry without being written off as a stereotypical, hysterical woman. “People didn’t like her when the trailer came out, and I was like, ‘Oh God, everyone’s gonna hate her!” Taylor laughs. “I was really surprised to be at a convention and have someone come up and say, ‘Can I introduce you to my nieces? They’re six and eight, and they love you’. I’m glad they have a good female role model in Jack.”

#dragon age #bioware #mass effect #video games #mass effect: andromeda #lgbtq #long post #longpost #feels

[regrettablewritings]

Fluff alphabet for Tadashi Hamada if you're stil writing for him, please. B, c,s w?

Indeed, I do still write for the lovely lad. Stuff is below the cut

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?):

Oh, most definitely. Tadashi is a very family-oriented man. Always has been, always will be. So it’s no surprise that he looks forward to the day he can start his own little branch of the Hamada family tree. We’ve already seen how he is with Hiro: He’s protective, he’s encouraging, he’s inspiring, he’s good at getting him to do things he may not want to do even if it’s for his own benefit -- imagine what wonders he could do if those traits were applied to a little mini-him or mini-you or mini-you-both!

Honestly, the subject goes more or less unspoken between you two because it’s kind of a given that Tadashi wants kids. You two would be taking a walk in the park or going to the mall and the moment a stroller passes by, he’s barely playing off how much he’s trying to crane his neck to gaze upon the chubby wonder resting inside. You can see the disappointment in his eyes when he fails. Some days when you’re just at the Lucky Cat trying to get some homework done, you’ll glance up and see him at a table with a baby at it, speaking all kinds of sweet words to them. You’ve seen his favorites playlist on Youtube -- it has a decade-old commercial for Legal Zoom on it. When you questioned why it was there in the first place, you had to witness your adoring boyfriend sheepishly admit that the baby in it was just too cute. And also he liked the pale purple walls and thought it’d make for good inspiration.

“Good inspiration for . . .?” you led, knowing exactly where it was headed. You watched at Tadashi’s eyes wandered and his cheeks and ears reddened.

“For . . . a nursery . . .” he responded. It was a mumble, but you heard everything you needed to know loud and clear.

Well, not everything, of course: You asked him what exactly he envisioned for the future.

He admitted he wasn’t exactly particular about whether he wanted a boy or a girl, let alone first or second -- he just knew he would like at least two children so neither one would be lonely. Corny and cheesy as it was, he would’ve preferred to live somewhere a little closer to the suburbs (“Hey, at least I don’t expect a white picket fence!” he justified). His reasoning being that he’d like a nice, quiet area in which many parks and libraries and schools can be accessible, and so any children of yours have room to grow. However, given the structure of the area, he knew that this was going to be a tough call for a multitude of reasons.

Bottom line, though, he’d be okay with living in the city if it meant he could still provide for you and your hypothetical kids the best he could. He just wants to make sure everyone is happy and healthy. But for now, he’s content with it just being the two of you . . . Emphasis on “for now.”

C = Cuddles (How do they cuddle?):

Usually with a prayer that Hiro doesn’t barge in. No, seriously: That bedroom of theirs offers only the most courteous of privacies by way of a tasteful but otherwise unpersuasive shoji. You want Hiro to see you guys trying to get cozy about as much as Hiro does -- which is not at all, given how he pretends to throw up every time he’s walked in on you two. And how he’s voiced his dislike of it.

Given that Tadashi is ever the caring brother and roommate, he can only get away with so many dry, “You don’t have to be here”s before he just feels bad about it. As a result, the two of you have actually had to create a cuddling schedule built with Hiro’s course times, your availability, and Tadashi’s availability in mind. And God forbid Hiro ever finds out about that schedule because all he needs is one more reason to call the both of you Ultra Nerds.

Worse-case scenario, you two get booted out and have to make do with the couch in the garage, cramped as it is. But you don’t mind: Usually, the reason you two are cuddling is because you’re so butt-tired from coursework that you need to relax and zonk out for a couple hours. Besides, for as lanky and more muscle-based as a guy like Tadashi is, his arm wrapped around you is unfairly warm and comforting. You’re bound to be conked out before you can even utter a complaint, or at the very least you’re way too relaxed to register the fact that you’re both awkwardly strewn about the furniture.

So if it had to be put in a different way (and less about worrying somebody might barge in), you supposed you could describe your cuddling as being the snug equivalent to how a college student eats, sleeps, or lives altogether: You both take what you can get when you can get it and try to enjoy it before it’s time to go to your next “adult obligation.”

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?):

Tadashi is a pretty optimistic person so it’s actually hard to get him completely down, let alone long enough for him to actually require a pick-me-up bigger than a brief inner pep talk. Normally all he needs to do is have a quiet moment to himself, some time to cool down, maybe remind himself that things can and will get better. But in the odd moment where this isn’t enough, Tadashi will often turn to his interests.

However, don’t assume this means he’ll hunker down in his lab and focus on one of his projects: He’s long since learned that it’s best to not robotically engineer with sad or frustrated -- way too many power outages have occurred from that.

Instead, he turns to his other hobbies: Living with Aunt Cass means he’s been knowing how to bake for years, albeit the baked fruits of his labors don’t always come out prettily; depending on how free his schedule is (read: not very at all anymore), he may go find a location to go surfing; or he goes to a park to get, like, a cart crepe. Usually being outside in a sunny place (with plenty of puppies and babies around) zaps him back to normal.

Which leaves him with plenty of time to figure out how to cheer you up!

Given his nature, Tadashi has become a wiz at cheering others up. He’s just got this nearly contagious brightness about him. And even if you don’t find yourself as readily bright as he, don’t worry: He’s not afraid to pull old tried-and-trues on you. Being an older brother/almost fatherly figure has allowed him the perfect position to perfect his trade: That is, the art of being goofy for the sake of cheering up his loved ones. He will easily pick you up and jump around with you, hollering about how he’s going to “turn that frown upside-down” -- by actually holding you upside-down.

Not your cup of tea? Then be prepared to witness the most tragic case of Dad Dancing ever recorded in a man below the age of 30, complete with cheesy disco music. You will be forced to witness his arms flailing, head bopping, mouth performing what you had once heard being referred to as “The White Man’s Overbite”. You will beg that he stop “for the love of Mochi.” You will try to have your pleas be heard over the speaker blaring “Got to Be Real” by Cheryl Lynn, only to be further drowned out by your boyfriend’s tone-deaf singing.

But the man will not stop: He must dance in your honor.

And once you’re done wiping away the tears left from cackling, he’ll treat you to some froyo.

If this still doesn’t work, there’s the slightest chance he might pull out the big guns: Tickling. It’s reserved strictly as a worst-case scenario, but he’s going to dance until his feet bleed if he can help it before he has to do that again. The last time he resorted to tickling a little too eagerly, it . . . didn’t end well.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?):

When? A balmy evening in May. How? With a bit of difficulty. Mind you, Tadashi is a generally organized man on the average day. But on the day he proposes to you – heck, the days leading up to it? He’s a bit of a mess. And it’s in no small part due to how incredibly involved his friends and family had tried to be the entire time.

Make no mistake, he’s very glad that he has such supportive loved ones. However, he found himself constantly fighting off a heart attack every time one of them treaded the line a little too closely for his comfort. (Sure, there’s little suspicion in Honey gushing over wedding magazines with you or Aunt Cass asking you to sample a “brand new wedding cake flavor” she was planning to use for some pastries, but Wasabi asking about your ring size and Fred talking about how kaiju costumes were better than tuxes until GoGo had to slam him down really wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.)

Hiro might’ve been the closest thing to normal throughout it all, much to the elder Hamada brother’s surprise. But even then, he was more of less gesturing for Tadashi to just go ahead and pop the question – albeit, at the most inopportune times in the latter’s honest opinion.

“I can’t propose to my girlfriend in the campus library!” Tadashi rejected Monday.

“There’s nothing romantic about being in the middle of a pizzeria and going, ‘Hey, will you marry me?’” he scoffed on Wednesday.

“Hiro, if you ever propose to somebody in front of a mall fountain, then I’ve failed you,” came his dry response Saturday. He knew his younger brother meant no harm by applying the lightest of pressures; he just wanted all the anxieties over with! But this was you Tadashi was proposing to: You deserved only the best. Only the most heartfelt . . . Which was why, in the end, the where of it all was the Lucky Cat Café. Was it the fanciest establishment he could have done it in? Not really. Thankfully, Aunt Cass was all too eager to oblige his request to have the café to yourselves one evening; it allowed him to properly decorate your favorite table with a tablecloth and a bouquet of your favorite flowers. It was admittedly a tad cheesy, but you certainly didn’t mind it.

But this was where Tadashi had grown up. It was where his family – the core of his being – was, where his friends congregated to relax. This was his home in so many ways and if he was to invite you into his family, he wanted it to be done here. Even if it meant Aunt Cass and Hiro were not too discreetly peeking out from the back. Or that the entire time Tadashi was trying to recite his proposal speech, he kept getting distracted by your friends, whose faces were mashed against a window behind you, waiting to bear witness to this milestone.

Suffice to say, it was a very group-oriented situation. But neither you nor Tadashi would have had anything less.

Thank you for your patience!

#tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi hamada imagine #big hero 6 imagine #big hero 6 imagines #tadashi hamada headcanons #regrettablewritings #fluff alphabet #fluff headcanons

[kalimagik]

Should’ve Said No

Sirius Black x Reader 

Marauders Era 

Based off the song “Should’ve Said No” by Taylor Swift

<3k

Warnings: Angst and mentions of cheating

A/N: I’m back with another song based fic because that’s one of the few places that I draw inspiration from. I had a three hour car ride, listened to this song on repeat a million times, so in short, this fic just wrote itself! If you enjoy it, like, reblog, comment, or follow (I think you get the gist so far!) It’s my first time writing for Sirius, so I hope you all like it! Happy Reading <3

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I knew the risks that came with catching the eye of Hogwarts’ biggest playboy. I knew his reputation. I had stayed away for a decent amount of time, but the boy finally wore me down at the end of sixth year. He asked and asked. He said he was done with his play boy life. I said yes. Everyone was surprised I said yes. Hell, I was surprised that I said yes, but it was worth the risk. Sirius Black had my heart in his hands. He was careful with it too, almost delicate. 

Then seventh year kicked in and so did the beginning of quidditch matches and parties. I did as much Common Room rotating for the parties as the next girl, but the one time, the one time I decided that school was more important, he wasn’t strong enough to not ruin everything. Let me go back for a minute. 

Lily came up to me during lunch the other day, I think it was Tuesday or Wednesday, and sat with me at the Y/H table. 

“Did you finish that Transfiguration homework Saturday?” she asked me casually, but seemed to have a little bit of a tremor in her voice. 

“Yeah, Remus was a ton of help. Thank you for telling him that I needed him even though I didn’t want to ask. How was the party?” I asked, thinking nothing of it. It had been Gryffindor’s turn to host, but I wanted to get a good grade in my N.E.W.T. level transfiguration this year, so studying took precedent.  

Lily grew quieter suddenly. 

“That bad, huh?” I giggled, judging her reaction. “Where’s James?” 

I was still so daft. So stupid to think that everything was normal. Lily’s boyfriend and my boyfriend were best friends. It brought us closer than ever and it made me happy. Sound began to fill the Great Hall as others came in for lunch. 

“He’ll be along. I just wanted to talk to you,” Lily piped up again. “Are you almost done? Could we go to the loo to talk for a minute?” 

“What is with you, Lil?” I was worried now. Lily was usually such a happy presence to be around, but that day, something was off. I gathered my things, following Lily to a bathroom a little ways from the Great Hall. What was she so upset over? I hoped she was alright. “Oh, look! There’s James and Sirius!” 

I had started to call them over, but Lily quickly pulled me through the door of the bathroom. 

“Seriously, Lily. What’s up? Did James do something? Should I warm up my wand?” 

“He didn’t do anything, Y/N.” I just stared at her, mouth slightly opened. I was wracking my mind over what had potentially happened that had her acting this way

I realize now that I was so worried for her when she was just being protective over me. 

She finally spoke. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know. He isn’t going to tell you, Y/N/N, but I like you and it isn’t fair.” 

“What are you rambling on about?” 

“Sirius cheated on you…” she finally blurted out. My whole body went numb. I didn’t even hear her say who it was with. I later found out it was Marlene. That was a whole other beast to deal with. We were never that close anyways, so it didn’t surprise me. 

Like I said, I knew his reputation. 

“Y/N/N? It was at the party. I don’t know if he was drunk or what. I wasn’t paying much attention. He begged me not to tell you and James even begged me to give him the chance to tell you. I did. It’s been nearly 5 days and he hadn’t and I couldn’t just watch him with you, acting normal. I’m sorry.” 

I realized then that I hadn’t said anything yet. I stood there, staring at the sinks behind Lily. I didn’t even look at her. My gaze shifted to my face in the mirror. The color had drained from my face. I couldn’t even see any emotion in my features. I could only feel my heart shattering into a million pieces. 

Then Lily asked those dreaded words. “Are you okay?” I looked at her, a blank stare still ensuing, “Oh, no. You’re mad at me. I am so sorry, really. I didn’t want to tell you all of this.” 

Words finally found their way to my lips. “I’m not mad at you, Lily. I’m mad at him. I’m going back to my room. I may see you tomorrow. I don’t know.” 

I bolted to the door and for the crowded halls. I didn’t want to be with anyone anymore. I heard Lily calling to me over the noise. “But, we still have classes today!” 

I wasn’t going to classes. I was processing. Processing was allowed right? I just found out that my boyfriend, correction, my now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me. I would face him later, but for now, I needed time to myself. 

With classes continuing, my room was completely empty. The moment the doors shut, the tears began to roll down my face. I scanned the contents next to my bed. There were those stupid flowers that Sirius had given me the previous Friday. 

I stood in front of them on my night stand. I felt all the hurt and anger that had been numb explode. They burst. My hands acted on their own accord. I picked up the flowers in my hand. They were so delicate, but the anger flowed through my veins and instinct threw them against the wall. When the noise of the limp plants didn’t give me any satisfaction, I followed the flowers with the vase. The smashing sound of glass against the wall was all I needed to hear to know that I was broken inside.

 I skipped my afternoon classes, falling into a heavy sleep, exhausted from the crying. It felt like a hippogriff had run me over. I got up to use the bathroom later and assess my running makeup and horrendous bed head. It was bad, but I didn’t care. I enchanted the door so that no one could come in. They’d only be able to enter when I gave permission. I just needed to be alone in this school that was now seeming all too small.

 When I skipped dinner too, I knew someone was bound to come searching for me eventually. Only, I was expecting Lily or one of my roommates to knock on my door. For some reason, the idea of Sirius coming to talk to me never crossed my mind. 

I heard someone attempt to push against the door as I curled up under my blankets. I felt like they would protect me from the world. 

“Love? I know you’re in there,” Sirius called out to me from behind the door. “You skipped classes and dinner.” 

His voice was so calm. Surely Lily told him that I knew the truth about his weekend. He should be a mess like I was right at that moment!

“Go away. I’m not feeling well,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to confront him then. I wasn’t ready to even look at him. 

“Evans told me,” he sighed. I could hear his fingernails scratching against the wood. Another pause. “I know you know.” 

“Then you know why I don’t really want to talk to you.” I couldn’t help but let the blunt words take the place of my gasping and sobbing. I’d rather him hear the harshness in my voice than any of the hurt. 

“Y/N, darling. I will take it all back if you just give me one chance. It was a moment of weakness, love. With the party and the alcohol, it just happened. It meant nothing though.” 

I had no response for him. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. 45 minutes may have passed. Sirius tried to speak to me a few more times. I even heard him trying to counter the charm I used to lock the door, but he couldn’t. He had no choice but to leave. 

I endured the cooing and sympathies from my roommates, but I hated it. I hated feeling like this. I hated feeling hopeless. This wasn’t my fault. I was a victim, but I’m not weak. 

I couldn’t sleep all night, so I silently moved around the room and placed all of Sirius’ things in a bag. His records of the muggle music he adored, the remnants of the flowers, even the pictures of the two of us. I didn’t want them. 

I marched down to breakfast with the strong intent of telling him off in front of everyone. Everybody in this bloody school knew what had happened by now. I’m sure Marlene basked in the mess she caused and would tell anyone who wanted to hear about it. So, I wasn’t going to let our break-up be ruined by rumors. I’d let everyone witness it first-hand. 

I combed my hair. Redid my make-up. This didn’t hide the fact that I had been crying all day and night, but I don’t care. I needed to do this.

So now, here I am, standing outside the Great Hall. Students from all the houses are eating their breakfasts and I’m holding this bulging bag. 

I feel Lily Evans’ bright green eyes on me as I walk down the length of the Gryffindor table to where she was sitting with Sirius and the other Marauders. From the short glance towards her, I can’t tell if she is scared about what I am going to do or proud. I don’t really care at this point though. I am here on a mission. 

“Pads,” Remus whispers as he is the first one to see me walking towards the group (aside from Lily). 

I’m carrying this bag and just thinking to myself how strange it is to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, and everything is just gone. His dark, piercing eyes met my own. He doesn’t look like a mess. He looks perfect like he always does. This recognition just fires the anger that has been building up inside of me all morning. 

“Y/N? You’re up! Excellent!” Sirius smiles at me. He reaches out to take the bag from me as if he’s helping. “I was thinking perhaps we could have a chat this morning before classes? We could go to the courtyard.” 

I examine him. He seems different to me now. He was pretending like nothing was wrong while he was in front of his friends. I can read him. I know this. 

“I don’t think so, Sirius. Those are your things.” I spit out at him, pointing to the bag now in his hands. Hoping that I am wearing a blank face, I watch his fall. I know he can tell what I’m feeling through my Y/E/C eyes. He always did say that they gave me away every time. 

“I told you last night though. It didn’t mean anything.” 

Scoffing, I can’t stop myself from shaking my head. “No, Sirius. Yesterday I found out about you and even now just looking at you feels absolutely wrong! I heard you last night. You say that you’d take it all back given one chance. It was a moment of weakness-” My arms were flailing as I began to yell. I’ve never been capable of keeping my voice down. I know I’m loud. “And you said yes!” The words bellow out of my throat and I feel like they echo. I don’t know. I’m mad. I’m not finished either. 

Sirius looks at me as if he wants to speak, so I have to cut him off quickly. 

“You don’t get to talk yet.” 

The silence of the Great Hall was deafening. I know that everyone is watching us. Although, I am feeling extra strong. Maybe all those girls that Sirius screwed over in the past were sending me their strength. 

“I was studying the night of the party. It was the first one that I missed and you messed it all up! Here’s what should have happened.” My hand motions are taking over as the words roll off my tongue. I didn’t even plan any of this. “You should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home, you should’ve thought twice before you let it all go. This school is so damn small that you should’ve known that word about what you did with her would get back to me!” 

Maybe I shouldn’t have just pointed to Marlene at that point…oh well. Put my focus back on Sirius. 

“I should have been there in the back of your mind. I shouldn’t be asking myself why all of this happened. You shouldn’t be sitting outside of my room begging for forgiveness at my feet. If you would’ve said no, we would still be together. I did everything right! This is your fault!” 

His eyes widened at my words. I can’t look at him anymore. I’m not eating breakfast, but it’s fine. I would be on a high from this for at least a little while. I could probably get through my morning classes. I don’t have any with Sirius, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I do have them with Remus, so that could pose an issue, but with what I am feeling right now, I can take it. 

“Y/N! Wait up!” Lily’s red hair chased me from the crowded hall. Her face was lighting up everything else. “That was awesome! I mean, Sirius isn’t looking too great, but you were fantastic! I think some people wanted to applaud you on your way out.” 

My high began to fade. I didn’t mean to make him feel awful. I just didn’t want to let it seem like he could walk all over me and what he did was okay. It isn’t okay! Cheating is one of the lowest things a person could do! 

Lily could see the uncertainty on my face. “Was I too hard on him? Should I have done that in private?” I could feel my eyes begin to puff and redden again. 

“He deserved it, Y/N/N. What he did to you wasn’t in private, so I think this is justice.” Lily smiled. 

That smile quickly fell. I turned to follow her line of sight. Sirius stood there, just looking at me. He was being quick to run up to me. 

“Can we please talk?” 

“That’s not a good idea.” 

“I said I’m sorry. It’s all in the past!” His eyes are pleading with me, but I just can’t do it. “I want to be with you, Y/N! I have wanted to be with you for the longest time. It was just a moment of weakness. If you could just give me a chance, please?” 

“You hurt me, Black.” I needed to stop and cringe. I used to only call him by his last name and it felt wrong to be using it again. “You can tell I’ve been crying, just look at my eyes! I’m sure everyone can see it. And you know all the right things to say! You’ve always been good with words. That’s one of the reasons I fell for you. But do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same after this? You should’ve said no, Black.” 

I turn to walk away, Lily being supportive next to me, but something is tugging on me, a question I didn’t realize I had, so I turn back to Sirius. 

“I need to ask you something before I go. I can’t resist. Was it worth it? Was she worth all of this?” 

Sirius hung his head. I haven’t seen him like this since he decided to leave home, and I was just a friend at that point. “No. She wasn’t.” 

I nod, accepting the fact that he understands that he messed up. Maybe, in the future I can forgive him for this and even be friends, but like I said, we could never be the same. Walking away right now seems like the best option for me though. With Lily beside me, I am going to go to classes and I am going to heal and move on. I said my peace to Sirius Black. He made a mistake, but I would not be the victim of the next one. 

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders #young marauders #harry potter #angst #harry potter x reader #song fic #first sirius fic #kalimagik #angst fic #lily evans #james potter #remus lupin #padfoot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic

[tchallasbabymama]

who you are (T’Challa x Black!OC)

6,281 words

A/N: Damn I wrote a lot. So I want this to turn into a series based around music, but I haven’t figured out the series title yet. It’ll come to me.

As soon as the sun peeked out over the horizon Ashanti’s eyes blinked open. It was going to be a normal sweltering January day in Wakanda, so the merchant tribe girl took advantage of the cool morning air. She threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts before putting on her running shoes and heading out into the world. She stood on her porch to stretch her muscles while she watched the sun begin to peek between the trees. Once she limbered up, she took off for her daily run around the streets of Birnin Zana. Her mind cleared as she processed her dream from the night before.

In her dream, a faceless man walked into her store and browsed for a long time before turning to face her. Ashanti was drawn to him. Her arms found their way around his neck and her lips met his. She felt a buzzing all throughout her body and her lips heated up like she had eaten hot peppers. Their breathing synched up and his hands roamed from her neck all the way down to her ass, cupping her cheeks and getting dangerously close to her dripping pussy. He introduced his tongue to her mouth and her knees buckled as she let out a desperate moan. Just as his right hand slipped under her skirt the sun rose and woke her from her utopia with her mystery man.

Ashanti kept a dream journal, and this one was one she wanted to have on record to come back to later. It felt like more than a dream, it felt too real for it to just be a dream.

Ashanti pushed through her run and made it back to her house in record time. When she walked in the door she could hear the sounds of her roommates finally rising for the day. Ashanti loved living with Kwame and Binta, and there was never a dull day around the house living with the two rambunctious fraternal twins. Both of their parents had died by the time they graduated high school, and the big empty house had been left to them. When the twins met Ashanti they had been looking for another roommate to make it feel like a home again, and it was friendship at first sight. They knew they had found a good match.

“Good morning Titi!”

“Ayy look who it is! How was the run today?”

“You wouldn't have to ask that if you’d join me,” Ashanti teased knowing damn well Kwame wasn’t one for non-sexual physical activity. Kwame rolled his eyes and shoveled more plantains onto his plate.

“Girl you know I don't do all that running mess. For what?!”

Ashanti and Binta giggled as they shared a knowing look and the older twin  handed her a plate full of food that she had just whipped up while Ashanti was on her run.

The three of them had lived together since college and fell into their morning routine years ago. Ashanti would rise at the crack of dawn and go for her run, then Binta would get up and make breakfast which was somehow always ready by whatever time Ashanti got back and Kwame finally decided to join the land of the living. Ashanti asked her once how she had perfect timing every morning, and the twins responded in perfect unison.

“Magic.” “Magic.”

Ashanti never asked again, mostly because she couldn’t tell if they were serious or not. She wouldn’t be surprised either way.

Per their routine, Ashanti shoveled her food down and made her way to the bathroom for a shower. She turned on the water to let it warm up, and in the meantime she stripped down to her birthday suit and admired her body in the mirror. She had a love-hate relationship with her body for most of her life, but she found that the more she saw herself naked the more she loved what she saw. Ashanti wasn’t vain though, it was a self-esteem thing.

Once she tore her eyes away from her naked form she stepped into the falling water and just stood there for a moment letting it all wash over her. She grabbed her lemongrass and black soap bar and her loofa and went to town washing her body from head to toe.

Since she was a little girl Ashanti had a fear of singing in public, but when she was in the shower she never held back. Thankful for the soundproof vibranium-laced walls, she belted her heart out to her favorites. She even had a playlist just of songs to sing in the shower. Sometimes she would build a queue, but other times she would let the shuffle button have it’s way. This was one of those times.

This perception's got me restless I ain't dreamin' 'less you're there I supply what you require I need you like I need air You give me life with all the light you're shinin' Oh, there's no question It's evident that you would compliment the love you're not havin'

So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

She carefully swayed her hips and sang along with Luke James, feeling every bit of the emotion in his words. The song made her feel warm inside like a first crush. That nervous yet adorable energy swirled around her as she reveled in the feeling of puppy love, something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Ashanti had discovered western music when Wakanda opened itself to the world, and she wanted to personally thank King T’Challa for allowing the joys of R&B and other genres from across the diaspora into her life. The melodies and the beats were reminiscent of music from her home country in many ways, and she gravitated towards the love songs, songs about heartbreak, and ass-shaking music. She needed to feel it either emotionally or physically.

She could’ve stayed in that shower for hours if she had the time, but Ashanti had errands to run and work to do.

After getting dressed for the day, she grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder before heading back downstairs. Binta was lying across the couch staring at their newly installed hologram tv in contempt. Ashanti noticed it was playing some American reality show about rich colonizers that try to look like Black women.

Binta sucked her teeth.

“Can you believe this? Why do they look like that?!” Binta half yelled at Ashanti and half yelled at the screen.

“Because, girl look at us,” Ashanti gestured at her and her roommate’s beautiful assets and they both fell out laughing.

“You heading into work already? It’s barely 8”

“Yeah, I need to get some shopping done before I open up. Be good!” Ashanti pecked Binta on the cheek before sliding her shoes on and heading out the door for the second time that morning.

Ashanti walked through the bazaar and took in the sights and smells. She made quick work of her shopping list and even with being stopped to say hello to every other person she encountered on the way, she made it to her store in record time. She loved the energy of the marketplace as a little girl growing up in the Merchant tribe. When she was seven years old her parents, Chidi and Bisa Mostafa, opened up a restaurant, Zana Cafe, smack dab in the middle of the Birnin Zana Bazaar that’s been going strong for twenty years. When the shop owner from across the street grew too old to run her art supply store she sold it to the Mostafas for a low low price. There wasn’t another shop like it in the market, so Chidi and Bisa tasked Ashanti with keeping it running.

Ashanti eventually saved enough money to buy the shop next door and she transformed the space into a combination art gallery, supply store, and amateur marketplace. She wanted it to be a space where artists of all skill levels could come together, create, and even sell their work.  She sold her own handmade crystal jewelry and had a children’s section full of finger paints and fun craft projects. The kids loved when she displayed their art along the shop walls. There was even a classroom towards that back of the multi-use space she used for community art lessons.

Ashanti had named the space after the first person to encourage her art, her umakhulu Taj. She missed her grandaddy more than anything in this world, and she dedicated her creative space to his memory. People from all over Wakanda knew of Taj’s, it being the only shop of it’s kind in all of Birnin Zana.

Chidi waved at Ashanti from across the street while he prepared the restaurant for the morning rush, and she blew him a kiss before stepping into her shop, her happy place.

She closed her eyes and smiled a warm smile before drawing the curtains and letting the light in. She turned on her music and danced around the shop, straightening up as she went. She still had that same Luke James song on repeat from earlier.

Did I mention, I love tension? No more stressin' when we touch My salvation, my temptation I felt safety in your clutch (clutch) Come save me now, just stick around No, you ain't gotta stay long How you make minutes pass like seconds I feel like I gotta hold on (hmm) So how would you feel If I gave you somethin' real? If I told you I was serious I'm not spinnin' your wheels If I open up my heart Took a chance with you and maybe you can show me who you are

A chill went down Ashanti’s spine as that warm fuzzy feeling filled her once more. Her face felt flushed and she kept grinning wider and wider as she shuffled around Taj’s, sweeping all the dirt out the back door. She went to sweep her stoop when the sight of the Dora Milaje caught her off guard. It wasn’t often that royalty made their way to the market, but she knew every shop owner would be clamoring to gain whoever’s attention. She kept sweeping then opened her shop doors wide before heading back inside.

Before she could make it halfway back to her spot at the front counter, she heard the chime that alerts her when new customers enter.

“Hi, welcome to Taj’s, what can I-”, her voice caught in her throat when she turned around and saw the king flanked by two of his Dora Milaje. She noticed two more stationed at the door and looked past them to see her nosy parent across the street staring into Taj’s to get a glimpse of what's going on.

“Kumkani wam.”

Ashanti saluted King T’Challa and a deep rumbling erupted from his chest before he cracked the most adorable crooked smile.

“Please, none of that.”

____________

Mornings in Birnin Zana were always calm and quiet until about 10am when the whole city woke up and went on about their day. This wasn’t the case for King T’Challa who preferred to start his day at 6. It was the only time he could really have to himself without interruption. He would always go for a run around the palace grounds or out into the lush Wakandan forest right as the sun poked out above the trees.

Another thing people didn’t know about the King of Wakanda is that he loved to cook. As a boy he spent so much of his time hanging around the kitchen staff they jokingly put him to work one day and he took right to it. Not only did T’Challa love mornings because of the solitude, he loved mornings because of breakfast. It was his favorite meal of the day. When he was a teenager he often cooked breakfast for his family, but as an adult it’s something he only had time for sparingly. He always had a meeting or a mission or something important and unavoidable in the way.

However, today he had the time because he had taken the day off. As king he answers to nobody but Bast and the people of Wakanda...but there are a lot of people and a lot of problems to solve so sometimes the king needed a day to himself. T’Challa trusted his sister and his cousin to keep things running smoothly in his absence,and he made them swear to only contact him if the country was about to collapse.

These would be a beautiful 24 hours.

After making his way back to the palace he quickly showered and threw on some clothes for the day. T’Challa felt relaxed being dressed-down and thought about maybe doing it more often. The royal robes were so stiff.

The king slid into the kitchen with a smile on his face, humming to some American song he couldn’t get out of his head but didn’t know the words to. He scooped up some mandazi the kitchen staff had left for him and took a bite while he rummaged through the refrigerator looking for whatever called to him. T’Challa found what he was looking for and got to work dicing and mixing and grating his ingredients. He had just thrown a pinch more of cardamom in the pancake batter when his mother strolled in.

“Mholo, unyana wam!”

“Good morning to you too mother,” T’Challa chuckled at the Queen Mother’s jovial mood.

He kissed her cheek and flipped the pancakes on the griddle. He turned around just in time to catch Ramonda taking a swipe of the batter.

“Mama you should know better. What kind of role model are you for your young impressionable daughter?”

“Hush, child”

The two smiled and settled into a comfortable silence while T’Challa sautéed up fragrant vegetables, making Ramonda even more impatient. Just as she was about to ask T’Challa how much longer until they could eat, her young impressionable daughter rounded the corner looking like she had been caught in a tornado. That was the normal for Shuri, a notoriously wild sleeper.

“Good morning mother, Gap Tooth,” Shuri yawned. “ Where’s Braille?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his little sister’s nicknames and cracked eggs into the pan.

“You know that boy only shows up right when the food is do-“

Ramonda was cut off by the doors opening and Prince N’Jadaka strolled in with sunglasses on and the same clothes they saw him wearing when he left last night.

He noticed all three sets of eyes were glued to his hungover form. He was surprised when instead of admonishing him for his obviously very unroyal behavior they all broke out into laughter. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Long night?”

“Man you already know, we’ll talk later when there aren’t sensitive ears around.”

The two male cousins dapped each other up before N’Jadaka kissed his Auntie and little cousin on their foreheads.

“Mornin’ Auntie, Rugrat.”

“Mholo Daka.”

“Topographic map.”

Even T’Challa had to give her that one.

The family of four sat down and enjoyed the home-cooked meal of spiced plantain pancakes drizzled with honey, an egg and vegetable scramble, cheese grits, spicy sausage, and fresh fruit.

T’Challa loved seeing the look of satisfaction on people’s faces when they eat his food almost as much as his family loved eating whatever he put in front of them. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship.

After breakfast, T’Challa hung around and chatted with his family while they cleaned the kitchen. They never let him do this part, and since none of the Udakus were big on relying on the palace staff for every little thing, the prince, princess, and Queen Mother of Wakanda rolled up their sleeves to do some quick manual labor. Shuri and Ramonda washed and dried the dishes while N’Jadaka wiped down the table and countertops. He finished and the two male cousins went to take a walk around the gardens.

The second they stepped outside the palace T’Challa pulled out a blunt of the finest Wakanda kush and lit the tip. He pulled the smoke into his mouth and let it float up to his nose. He inhaled and then exhaled the smoke as he felt it take effect. He passed it to N’Jadaka and started talking.

“Last night…?”

N’Jadaka took a hit.

“My nigga...so you remember that hot lil river tribe thang I told you about?” T’Challa nodded as N’Jadaka handed him the blunt.

“So I take her out, right? Tell me why, we get to the restaurant she starts acting brand new? Turns out, this whole time we been smashing she’s trying to lock this down. So I paid for dinner and had Aneka take her home-“

“So where did you end up staying all night?”

“With the waitress.”

T’Challa stopped walking and glanced at his cousin before they both broke out into a fit of giggles.

They continued to walk and talk and pass the blunt back and forth. As they neared the palace doors the blunt had burned down to the roach. The two “went for a walk” so much they had it timed perfectly.

“So what you got planned for your day off?”

“Absolutely nothing,” T’Challa said, grinning from ear to ear. “And it better-“

“Stay that way, yeah yeah nigga I know. The Brain and I got this, go enjoy your day. Do some shit you haven’t done in a while. Be lazy. Make something. Get some pussy.”

T’Challa cut his eyes at his slightly younger cousin but couldn’t deny the truth in his statement. It had been a while for all of those things and damn did he miss them.

He clapped N’Jadaka on the back and turned to walk in the other direction.

“Good idea, umzala.”

“Which one?...Aye I know you heard me witcho supersonic hearing ass…”

T’Challa just chuckled and flipped off his cousin as he rounded the corner.

“Don’t ruin my country while I’m gone!”

“I should burn it down again just for that.”

T’Challa roamed the Birnin Zana Bazaar with his Dora Milaje for the first time in at least two years. Yes, he was a busy man with very little leisure time, but the Bazaar also held a lot of memories that the king would rather not revisit. As he passed the winding staircase he sighed, thinking of his former lover Nakia. She was off living a happy life in America with her girlfriend Janelle and their two goofy looking dogs, and he was genuinely happy for her. He and Nakia had love for each other, but they eventually realized they weren’t in love and decided to split. The memories were bittersweet.

The king decided he would pay an old friend a visit. Growing up, T’Challa only had his father. His biological mother died in childbirth, and since his father didn’t meet Ramonda until he was 12, the only mother he knew as a young child had been his nanny Ada.

She was a firecracker of a woman who never let him get away with anything, and he loved her with his whole heart. She was still an unofficial member of the Udaku family with an open invitation to visit the palace whenever she wanted. T’Chaka and Ramonda had tried to offer her a room in the palace but she refused, saying, “It’s too quiet here.” After she hung up her nanny hat, Ada became an entrepreneur. She had always loved arts and crafts so she opened up an art supply shop in the middle of the Bazaar, thanks to a hefty check from the Udakus. T’Challa used to love visiting Ada’s shop, but when she grew too old to care for it anymore she sold it and he hadn’t yet seen what became of it. He decided he’d stop by the shop before visiting Ada.

People were everywhere, but T’Challa loved the hustle and bustle of the city. Many of the past monarchs avoided mingling with the public more than necessary, but T’Chaka had taught his son the value in spending time among the people. In fact, T’Challa’s favorite part of being king is when he makes his rounds to visit all the tribes.

The king and his Doras strolled through the market, periodically stopping to converse with excited children.

They rounded the corner of the main streetway and he noticed a woman sweeping the stoop in front of what was Ada’s shop. He watched the sway of her hips and tried to read her lips to figure out what song she was singing. As he got closer he could just make out her angelic voice singing over the acoustic guitar in the unfamiliar song.  She had a dreamy smile on her face that made her deep dimples come out of hiding, and when she turned around to head inside the shop he noticed the thickness of her ass and thighs.

“Bast have mercy.”

His feet automatically carried him into Taj’s, and when she turned around to face him his knees nearly buckled. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

——————————-

Ashanti felt her cheeks heat up. She couldn’t believe the king was in her shop of all places.

“My apologies, your highness,” she stammered and the broom fell out of her sweaty hand.

Before she could even reach for it, the king had already lifted the old broom from the floor. He passed it to her and when their fingers brushed against each other they both felt static in their fingertips, though neither of them broke their poker faces.

“Truly, it is not a problem.”

T’Challa tore his eyes from hers and looked around the multi-use space. His eyes and eventually his body gravitated towards the childrens’ artwork along the walls, taking it all in with an adorably crooked smile.

“How long has this shop been open?”

“Coming up on two years now...your highness.”

“No need for all the formalities miss…”

“Ashanti Mostafa, my kin- I mean, um, sir,” Ashanti stumbled over her words, unsure of how to address the royal.

“I took the day off so just call me T’Challa, Miss Ashanti,” he winked and continued around the space.

“Is Taj in today?”

“No, Taj was my umakhulu. He died five years ago, so when I got this place I named it after him because he’s the one who taught me how to draw and paint and mold clay...he shared his love of art with me, so I’m paying it forward with all this,” Ashanti gestured outwardly.

T’Challa was in awe of her. He listened to her story and walked towards the artist marketplace section of the shop. His eyes gravitated towards a golden vibranium filigree choker with an intricately wrapped garnet pendant.

“These pieces are beautiful, I would love to get one for my mother and my sister. Does the artist take custom orders?”

“They will for the king.”

“Well sometimes being royalty has its privileges. Ayo, will you get the artist’s information from Miss Ashanti here?”

Ashanti couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was almost stunned to silence. The king liked her pieces.

“Actually your hi-,” she was stopped by a playful warning look from the king.

“T’Challa, I’m the artist.”

T’Challa became more and more enamoured with the shop owner every time she spoke. She was beautiful, talented, and her aura seemed to cover everything in its reach with her warm glow. He would definitely be visiting the Bazaar more often.

Ashanti rounded the counter and fiddled with her rose gold kimoyo beads before her other designs were projected in the air in front of the king.

“I thought you said you painted and molded clay. This is certainly not that,” he leaned on the counter as his Doras shared a knowing glance.

“That’s just how I started,” Ashanti explained. “I still paint sometimes when the mood hits, but nowadays I mostly craft jewelry. Oh I just got into beading, and you wouldn’t believe how sore my fingertips are.”

In that moment it took all of T’Challa’s willpower to keep from reaching out and kissing her calloused but delicate fingers.

Ashanti unconsciously leaned in closer to the king.

“So what brought you to my humble shop, T’Challa? Bast, it feels so weird to call you that.”

T’Challa chuckled, and Ashanti nearly blushed again from the deep rumbling.

“You’ll get used to it eventually. As I mentioned before, these pieces are beautiful. I would like to commission two. What is your price?”

“Two hundred a piece.”

“I’ll give you one thousand.”

Ashanti’s eyes blinked and her smile gradually crept up her chubby cheeks. The two went back and forth for over an hour over the details of the necklaces before the king bid the shop owner adieu with the promise to return in two weeks. Before he reached the door he turned around, almost catching her staring at him.

“I forgot to ask. Miss Ashanti, do you normally play the same song on repeat in the store?”

Ashanti hadn’t even noticed Luke James’ “Who You Are” had been playing ever since she opened her doors. Her mind had been clouded by the king’s powerful aura and kind eyes, and the only sound that mattered in that moment was the smoky melody of his voice. She blushed yet again.

“I don’t normally, but something had me a little distracted today,” she winked at the king. “The artist is Luke James, one of my favorites from America. You should check him out if you like what you hear.”

Her eyes locked onto his and he smirked.

“I’ll do just that.”

---------------------------------- A week passed and both Ashanti and T’Challa had listened to that same song on repeat more times than they could count. Neither one could understand how they had become so smitten with the other in a 90 minute time span.

Even the people around them had begun to notice the changes in their behavior. Unsurprisingly, the first two to say something were N’Jadaka and Kwame.

N’Jadaka slipped into T’Challa’s office after the council meeting wrapped up. His cousin had spent the last hour settling land disputes and was in desperate need of a break. They were too busy to take a walk, so T’Challa poured two generous glasses of the strongest palm wine in Wakanda. It wasn’t enough to make them drunk since the heart shaped herb running through their veins burned off alcohol too quickly for one glass to cause any damage. They’d have to drink a bottle a piece to even start to have a good time. However, they felt the effects of cannabis and psychedelics just like anyone else.

“What’s got you smiling so much? It’s starting to get creepy, you looked way too happy during that land dispute and I know you hate doing that shit.”

“I don’t know what-”

“You're really gonna lie to me? Your favorite cousin? I’m hurt.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at his least favorite cousin’s dramatics.

“You are my only cousin, N’Jadaka. And besides, I really do not know what you mean, I have just been in good spirits lately.”

“Mmmhm. You got some pussy, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“You sure? Because you're acting like you got some pussy.”

On the other side of Birnin Zana, Kwame watched Ashanti glide around the living room with a dreamy smile on her face.

“Girl I know you’re not that happy about dusting. Spill.”

“What?” Ashanti giggled. “I’m just in a good mood today, it’s been a good week at the shop.”

Kwame cut his eyes at her and pursed his lips. He didn’t believe a damn thing she said. Binta told him she had seen Ashanti humming and slow dancing in the kitchen the other day, so he knew something had to be up.

“Did you get some dick? Or some pus- nah that’s a dick face right there.”

“Who’s a dick face?” Binta came in and grabbed some coconut water from the fridge.

“Apparently I have ‘just got some dick’ face,” Ashanti responded with an eye roll.

“Yeah you’ve had it for about a week now. Spill.”

“That’s what I said, twin!”

They did their annoying twin handshake and turned back to Ashanti.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s just been a good week at the shop.”

Ashanti tried to get back to her dusting, but they wouldn’t let her.

“Nuh uh girl, get to talking.”

“B…”

“We’re waiting…”

Ashanti rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck, or so her mom would say had she seen it.

“Ok, fine! This man came into the shop the other day and had me blushing like a sixth grader with her first crush. He was just so...fine, and smooth, and sweet…”

Ashanti drifted off into a daydream while the twins sat there taking it all in. Kwame was the first to speak.

“Titi, your nose is wide the fuck open. Did you get his name, tap beads, something?!”

Ashanti couldn’t admit she had a crush on the king. For one, she was a little embarrassed because she knew how foolish she looked pining after a royal who could never return the sentiments. Secondly, if she told them she would never hear the end of it.

“Uh, his name is...Amare.”

Binta’s eyes went soft.

“Amare, I’ve always loved that name. What’s he look like?”

“Like Bast carved him out of vibranium.”

Kwame and Binta look at each other again.

“Like I said...wide open. So when are you opening those legs too?”

Ashanti tried to look busy.

“I’m uh, not sure if he’ll be back. His accent sounded American.”

She knew that would get them off her case. Ever since T’Challa announced Wakanda’s riches to the world they had opened up their doors to the Lost Tribe. For the last two years, Black people from all over the globe had travelled to Wakanda, so it would be an easy cop out for Ashanti.

“Well damn girl, you finally get a man and this is how it goes...maybe one day the king will allow outsiders to move here permanently and you can get your Prince Charming.”

“Heh, maybe. So what’s for dinner?”

——————-

Another week passed and the day had come for Ashanti and T’Challa to see each other again.

Both of them were nervous beyond belief, but only one of them had someone to confide in.

“I’m telling you, T, just be cool. Plus, you’re the king, she’d have to be an idiot to say no.”

T’Challa had planned to ask Ashanti out on a date. He couldn’t get her out of his head the whole two weeks they were apart, and he took it as a sign from Bast that she was something special.

He was nervous to see her again and he hoped it didn’t show on his face.

Right in the center of the Birnin Zana Bazaar, Ashanti fiddled with the custom necklaces she made at the king’s request. She hoped they were good enough for royalty and her nerves started to get the best of her. Her hands shook and her breathing sped up. She took a deep breath then walked out her shop and across the street to her parents’ restaurant. Her mom was the first to greet her.

“Hi honey, what brings you over to our side of the street?”

“Bisa you know the girl wants something!” Chidi yelled from the supply closet.

“Hush!”

“Hello to you too baba!” Ashanti laughed at her father’s antics.

“I’m just nervous. The king is coming back today...what if he hates them? What if Queen Mother or Princess Shuri hate them?!”

Ashanti started to get worked up again and Bisa rubbed her back in slow circles. Chidi brought her a cup of tea and the three of them sat outside the cafe in silence while she calmed down.

“Sweetie, it’ll be ok. He wouldn’t have commissioned the pieces if he thought they wouldn’t like them. And he’s seen your work, how could he not like it?! If so he’s a fool.”

“Baba! This is the king we’re talking about.”

“I don’t care! Anyone who can’t see my baby’s talent isn’t worth my respect.” He kissed her on her forehead and when he opened his eyes he noticed the women in red coming around the corner.

“Someone’s early…”

Ashanti looked confused for a moment before her mother gestured for her to turn around.

There stood the king and his Dora Milaje.

Bisa and Chidi quickly stood and saluted the king, Ashanti giggled and they looked at her in disbelief.

“That is unnecessary, please.”

“We are sorry, my king. Welcome to our restaurant, we are Ashanti’s parents. I am Chidi Mostafa and this is my wife Bisa.”

“We are so honored to have you.”

T’Challa reached out and shook their hands, shocking the older Mostafas.

Ashanti wondered if she looked this starstruck last time...she concluded she probably did.

However, this time when she stared at him she made sure to take in all his features. The faint crinkle around his eyes and his frown lines reminded her of their slight age difference and the stress of his job. His big bright eyes made him look like a puppy and his gap-toothed smile leaned perfectly to the left.

“Unfortunately I cannot stay long, I have other business to attend to that I cannot  get out of. I do hope to see the two of you again, but I believe Miss Ashanti here has something for me.”

“I sure do. Mama, Baba, I’ll swing by later.”

She kissed their cheeks and walked shoulder to shoulder with the king to her shop across the street.

“I have had your parents’ food before, in my opinion it is the best in all of the Bazaar. You are very talented people, Miss Ashanti.”

She was getting really tired of blushing, but it happened again.

“Thanks T’Challa. So, um, let’s get to it so you can get to your important kingly duties.”

They shared a smile.

She pulled out two large velvet boxes and opened them. Sitting among the silk were two necklaces that were more beautiful than T’Challa had imagined.

Shuri’s necklace featured a rough sapphire gem wrapped in wire hanging from a structured v-shaped vibranium collar. The stones set in the vibranium gave the necklace an ombre look as the stones grew lighter and lighter all the way down to the sapphire. The necklace would land about mid-chest on the princess, and T’Challa just knew she’d love it.

Queen Mother’s necklace was even more intricate and more like the necklace he had seen his first time in the shop. The gold filigree collar necklace was dripping with small gems hanging from every loop, with one large ruby set in the middle.

“Miss Ashanti…” T’Challa barely breathed out.

“Oh no, You hate them.”

“No, no! Quite the opposite actually. They’re beautiful, I-I’m speechless.”

Ashanti breathed a sigh of relief.

“As I mentioned before, you Mostafa’s are very talented…and beautiful.”

Ashanti gasped. There was no way…

“My king?”

“What? It is true. You are a very beautiful woman Ashanti, among many other things.”

That damn song started playing in her head and her smile pushed her dimples deeper the larger it grew.

“Thank you, T’Challa. You’re...alright looking.”

They both had to have a laugh at that one.

“Just alright?” He leaned in closer to her across the counter.

“Hm, maybe”

“Will you let me change your mind?”

“How would you do that?” She asked, leaning closer and getting a whiff of the cocoa butter on his skin.

“If you’d accompany me for a night out tomorrow evening I could show you.”

Ashanti froze and backed up. For a minute there she almost forgot who he was, but she had to remind herself that he wasn’t just a cute customer. He was the king, and he had to have been out of his Bast-given mind.

Unless this was something he did often.

“My k-, T’Challa...If you are looking for someone to play with and discard, I suggest looking elsewhere. I’m sure there are plenty of your subjects lined up in waiting for the bachelor king to swoop them up.”

Ashanti immediately regretted her words, but they just seemed to tickle T’Challa.

“Miss Ashanti, I am not that kind of man. I believe you have me confused with Prince N’Jadaka.”

Ashanti snorted. She had heard many stories about the prince and sort of assumed all royals behaved in such a manner.

“Besides I am much too busy to play the field since becoming king. Had you known me 5-10 years ago it would’ve been a different story.” T’Challa winked and noticed her look away to hide her smile. She remained silent.

“Please, it would bring me great joy to see you again. If not I will leave you alone. Just think about it.”

He tapped his black and purple kimoyo beads to her rose gold ones.

“There, now you have my contact information. It’s my direct line, please feel free to use it.”

With that he turned and left the shop. Ashanti had to pinch herself to make sure she was awake. After a minute it started to sink in that the king of Wakanda had asked her on a date.

“That really just happened.”

She stood there in a daze and was only pulled out of it when a customer walked into the shop.

“Welcome to Taj’s!”

—————

Chapter 2

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #t'challa #t'challa x oc #playlist

[smutandfluffohmy]

Dear Mr.Keating

This is a story about a closer look into the lives of the Dead Poets Society. Exploring first love, friendship and grief. This story explores elements of the book and film.

Chapter II

Inside the stone chapel of Welton Academy, a private school nestled in the remote hills of Vermont, more than three hundred boys, all wearing the academy blazer , sit on either side of the long aisle, surrounded by proud-faced parents, and wait. They heard the bagpipes fill the air, an elderly man wearing flowing robes led students down the long hallway of the chapel.

The four boys that carried the banners marched, followed by the elderly man, carrying a lighted candle. Headmaster Gale Nolan stood at the podium glaring down at the boys and parents sat before him. Every year it was the same routine but yet he couldn’t help but glance at the men carrying the candle and at the boys carrying the banners, ready with a quick punishment if a banner ever even hovered too close to the floor.The speech continued on without any bumps and for that he was thankful for.

“Boys what are the four pillars.” Nolan asked, looking at each of the boys stand up and recite the four pillars. All except for one boy, Todd Anderson, who’s mother forced him to his feet to say the four pillars. Instead Todd stood up looking around to everyone saying the pillars.

“Tradition” Knox said, straightening his back after one of his parents tugged at his sleeve..

“Honor” Pitts said, rolling back his shoulders, trying to remember how long this ceremony lasted.

“Discipline” Cameron said, raising his head trying his best to look his best in front of Nolan.

“Excellence” Neil said, going to sit back down but before he could he caught a glimpse of the new boy that was nervously looking around trying to keep up with everyone.

Unfortunately the ceremony lasted as long as it always did. Todd Anderson counted the tiles in front of his feet, 4 and a half squared exactly. Neil tried paying attention to Nolan becoming overly aware of the side glance his father gave him, yet he couldn’t help but look over at the new boy. The ceremony came to an end and Todd Anderson ,whose parents left as soon as they could, walked away asking where he should go next.

The halls of Welton were grand and cold and most importantly they were lonely, Todd could hear every step and every squeak his shoes made on the stone floor. Other boys walked past him and he decided to follow them, they all stood in a line on a stairwell waiting for something or someone. Soon everyone joined and finished lining the stairwell and each passing second leeft Todd more and more nervous as to what exactly they were waiting for.  

“Anderson. Perry. Dalton. Overstreet. Cameron.” Dr.Hager called out. Todd felt his heart sink when his name was called out as he followed the rest of the boys inside the office.

“Who’s the new boy?” Pitts asked Meeks leaning over to whisper to him.

“Anderson.” Meeks whispered back.

“Misters Pitts and Meeks. Demerits” Dr.Hager warned, directing his stare at the two of them. Pitts rolled his eyes at the mention of demerits.

“That’s another demerit, Mr.Pitts.” Dr.Hager said.

Inside the office Todd was waiting to hear why they were called. “Welcome back boys.Mr.Anderson,” Nolan said, straightening out the papers in front of him.  “Since you’re new here let me explain that at Welton I assign extracurricular activities on the basis of merit and desire. These activities are taken every bit as seriously as your class work, right boys?” Nolan said smiling at the boys in front of him.

“Yes, sir!” They all said in perfect unison that left Todd shocked and a bit startled at their uniformity.

“Failure to attend the required meeting will result in demerits. Now, Mr.Dalton: the school paper, the Service Club, soccer, rowing. Mr. Overstreett: Welton society candidates, the school paper, soccer, sons of Alumni Club. Mr.Perry: Welton society candidates, Chemistry club, Mathematics club, school annual, soccer. Mr. Cameron: Welton society candidates, debate club, rowing, service club, forensics, honor council.” Nolan said, emotions were high and the boys made a mental note of the extracurricular activities that they got allowed to do this year.

“Thank you, sir” Cameron said with an appropriate smile.

Nolan cleared his throat flipping the stapled paper over  “Mr.Anderson, based on your record at Balincrest: Soccer, service club, school annual.” he said.

Todd stood silently, his heart beat against his chest scared that the other boys might just hear it. His mouth opened but no words came out of his mouth.

“Speak up, Mr.Anderson.” Nolan said with such conviction, the type of voice Todd wished he had. At that moment Neil, Charlie, Knox and Cameron felt sorry for him, they also felt confused in all their years in Welton the one thing that was instilled on them was how to speak with honor.

“I… would… prefer… rowing… Sir.” Todd said, every word made his mouth feel like sandpaper.

“Rowing? Did he say rowing? It says here you played soccer in Balincrest.”

“Yes. I did bu-”

“Well then you shall play soccer for Welton. You’re dismissed boys.” Nolan said waving them off waiting for the other set of boys to walk in.

The boys all walked to the other side of campus to their dorms. The wind blew softly against their face and for this Todd was thankful for, he felt like for the first time that day he was finally breathing.

“Hi I’m Neil Perry.” Neil called out to Todd who was walking in the general direction that they were all going. Neil stuck out his hand which Todd took with hesitation, he wasn’t used to being spoken to instead of spoken over. “Heard you were my new roommate.”. They walked silently towards their dorm, only ever interrupted when Neil called out a building's name or a random Welton fact he remembered.

Once inside their room Todd couldn’t help but notice how small the rooms are, Neil who lived in Welton for years but rarely had a roommate noticed how tight the space was. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock in the door.

“Heard you got the new boy. Hear he’s a stiff. Oops!” Cameron said, laughing when Todd made his way inside the room. Todd felt awful and wanted to curl up and hide anywhere in the small room.

“Don’t mind Cameron.” Neil said  “He’s a jerk.” He said placing a hand on Todd’s shoulder trying to reassure him that he was not a stiff and it was Cameron who was actually a big stiff.

Todd tried his best not to hear their conversation but it was almost impossible to do in a room so small, their voices filled every inch and every corner of it.  Mr.Perry came in at one point but Todd was still trying to calm down from being called a stiff. Was he a stiff? Did Neil think he was a stiff?

As soon as everyone left the room and Mr.Perry said his goodbyes, Todd started to unpack his unlabeled boxes. Box after box, neutral toned pants and sweaters after another. The last box stood unopened at his feet, Neil stared out of the window unsure if he should say something or not. Todd fumbled with his desk clock, turning it over in his hands placing it in front of him then sliding it around his desk. He looked at a family picture, looking around his desk for a place to put it but there was no perfect spot for the picture. Todd opened his desk and placed the picture face down so he didn’t have to look at their faces every time he wanted a pencil.

Neil looked over a pin in his hand, unsure of what to say to this boy he knew nothing about but now had to share a room with, he cleared his throat “What do you think about my father?” He said. Todd gripped the clock tighter around his hands, suddenly becoming aware of his breathing.

“I-um well.” Todd mumbled, tripping over his words, looking back from Neil to the desk set in front of him.

“Todd if you’re going to make it around here you’re going to have to speak up.” Neil said “The meek might inherit the earth but they don’t make it into Harvard.” the moment the words left his mouth he felt horrible for saying them. He realized how much he sounded like his father and Todd's diverting eyes reminded him too much of his own. Todd could feel his face heat up with embarrassment and shame for the way that he was, he tried to hide his face as he picked up a white shirt to fold for tomorrow class.

“The bastard!” Neil shouted suddenly, jabbing his thumb with the metal point of the pin and drawing blood. Todd winced, without thinking he reached over to press the shirt in his hands against where Neil had stabbed himself. The achievement pin dropped between the two of them, the white shirt stained red just on the cuff but Todd didn’t care.

“I’m okay, I got it.” Neil said pushing the shirt toward Todd and away from his bleeding thumb. Todd for the first time that day he felt that his palms weren’t sweating and his throat didn’t feel rough.

Todd smiled at him “Don’t worry I got you.” he said and Neil smiled back feeling at ease after the hectic day.

#dead poet society #dead poets society #neil perry #todd anderson #john keating #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #richard cameron #steven meeks #gerard pitts #dps fanfiction #dps fic

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of April. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Heat | Explicit | 1433 words

In which Louis and Harry mate with each other.

2) A Desperate Time | Explicit | 2,52 words

Aka Harry and Louis have a pee kink that leads to Louis pissing in Harry's lap. Graphic, kinky smut. Read at your own desire.

3) Bohemian Rhapsody Is Not A Documentary (But Freddieismyqueen) | Explicit | 3933 words

Note: There’s a BH mention.

A day in life of Harry Styles and his smol sunflower [quarantine edition]

Aka how many wonderful adjectives can be applied to Louis Tomlinson and his everything?

4) Just A Bit Of Work | Explicit | 4027 words

In which Marcel is a virgin, and becomes his office's amorous co-worker's next big conquest.

5) I Don't Wanna Look At Anything Else That I Saw You | Mature | 4375 words

After the hiatus of One Direction, all 5 members have their own solo careers. Louis, who just can't move on from Alex, his ex-boyfriend and bandmate, meets Harry, who's supposed to be Alex's doppelganger in his new single's music video.

6) Like Lovers In A Movie | Explicit | 4565 words

A grumpy Louis and a movie night don't mix. Harry's still able to fix it.

7) Christmas Lights In Paris | Mature | 4671 words

In which Harry makes a big mistake and has to get Louis back, while Louis' a cute, soft baker.

8) Wasting My Time | Explicit | 7856 words

Harry is in love with Louis. He can't do anything about it, until he can.

Louis is in love with Harry. He doesn't have a chance, until he does.

9) The Promotion. | Explicit | 8143 words

After being promoted, Harry is challenged to prove he is one of the guys. Whatever it is he had in mind, he never thought he'd be expected to fuck an escort in front of his colleagues and boss during this corporate party.

10) Want You To Want Me | Explicit | 8836 words

Harry likes Louis, Louis likes Harry. But it's not that simple. Louis doesn't know if he can handle Harry's lifestyle and feels overwhelmed. Can Harry convince him he's worth it?

11) Don't Hold Back Now | Mature | 11103 words

Harry gives Louis everything he asks for except for the one thing he wants the most. If only Louis knew who Harry truly was.

Or the demon Harry AU.

12) We Will Get Through This | Mature | 11219 words

Because of quarantine, Louis has to stay home with his roommate, Harry, who he's never really hung out with before. He's a sweet alpha who seems to really care and that annoys the hell out of Louis. But as he gets to know the alpha, he realizes it might not be dislike that he's feeling

13 Sunrise and Pixie Dust | Mature | 14816 words

Harry's taking a walk at sunrise in the forest he knows like the back of his hand when the wind starts blowing, the sky turns pink, and golden glitter starts to fall from the sky. He’s not sure about what’s happening, but when he comes face to face with a gorgeous winged-creature, he can’t help but be immediately mesmerized.

Or an AU in which Harry finds himself crossing the borders between two worlds.

14) Happier | Explicit | 15590 words

Literally based off of Ed Sheeran's song Happier.

15) My Heart Was Stolen, Can You Return It? | Explicit | 15824 words

Based on the prompt: "He's a cop. He’s the owner of a record store. A sudden rash of break-ins brings him to his store over and over and over again, until it becomes obvious that he might be tripping the alarm on purpose—just to see him. That’s illegal—but he's kind of falling for him, too."

I don't remember where I found this, maybe in a book I own or in a post I saw, but credit to whoever actually came up with it.

16) V | Explicit | 20275 words

Harry pays him to dance, Louis enjoys the sex on the side, and that’s all that ties them together. Whatever else the enigmatic man does is none of Louis’ fucking business.

Louis works at a club owned by infamous Harry Styles, leader of the largest criminal organization this side of the country. As they twirl closer together police and rival gangs start to gain the upper hand, forcing everyone's loyalty to be questioned.

17) I’m Having Your Baby (It's None of Your Business) | Mature | 26383 words

A bet can cost you a lot. Harry learns this in the weirdest of ways.

Louis just wanted a baby, and he got so much more.

18) Crush | Explicit | 26741words

Based off the song Crush by Mandy Moore.

19) My Love’s Not Simple (It’s Fragile) | Explicit | 27554 words

Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.

20) Naked Attraction #2 | Mature | 29159 words

Louis Tomlinson is the first openly gay football player in the Premier football League. He was outed by the paps, but he’s had to embrace it since then. To show he doesn’t have shame in it, he goes onto Naked Attraction, and all the money will go to LGBTQ+ support, but he has made some changes to the show. Incidentally, he meets a certain Harry Styles there, and that is when things get interesting...

21) Compete Against The Stars | Mature | 30980 words

An ABO au where Louis finds out he's claimed to another Alpha. Angst ensues.

22) Where I Should Be | Explicit | 31324 words

Or, the affair AU where Harry is getting married, Louis is in love with his best friend, and they only have this life to get it right.

23) Will You Be My Boyfriend? | Explicit | 32484 words

Based on the prompt: "You’re at a party when you spot an ex. Quickly, you urgently pretend to be dating the nearest person, who happens to be very attractive."

24) Descendants of the Night | Explicit | 34371 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry is one of the old world. His best friends Liam and Niall are too. Zayn is a transient. Harry is newly back to the country after years of living in the city and he doesn’t know where to turn when confronted with finding Niall near death after a brutal attack.

“Liam, it’s me...I’ve heard you and the others talk about where to get medical care, Niall is in dire need. Where do I take him?”

There is only doctor in their remote part on England that Liam knows of who can help someone like Niall.

Louis Tomlinson.

Liam fears for what might happen when one like Harry meets one like Louis.

25) The Sidelines | Explicit | 47078 words

Note: There are mentions of Top Louis.

Or Harry and Louis play hockey for Penn state and can't stand one another, since they can't keep their hatred off the ice their coach and team do what they can to keep their hard earned spot in the playoffs and their two star players from killing each other.

26) Forgive The Urgency, But Hurry Up And Wait | Explicit | 53701 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Louis' going to do better. He’s going to have all of the uncomfortable conversations and the relationship talks. He’s going to make himself be a good boyfriend.

And he’s got absolutely no idea where to start.

27) Things I Can't | Not Rated | 67495 words

Louis has a plan for his life. He’s going to be the first in his family to finish college. He’s going to be a doctor - the best damn doctor in the country. And he’s going to work his ass off to make sure his younger siblings never have to wonder whether they have the means to pursue their dreams.

He doesn’t have space in his plan for a relationship with an effortlessly alluring musician, and certainly not for the child that unexpectedly results from that union. Louis is at a crossroads he never thought to plan for, and now he must make a decision: between what he wants now, and what he wants most.

28) Join Me In The Afterlife | Explicit | 262289 words

Or, the one where Louis is a simple guy - all he wants from his summer break is to spend some quality time with his mother, get to know her new husband, and learn to play the guitar. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is for sure. However, life has a funny way of working and when Louis finds a strange boy sitting on his bed one sunny day, his summer break takes a turn for the better (or worse) when he discovers a ghost has stolen his heart from the get-go.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

[thiswasinevitableid]

A fun, potentially spooky prompt for Halloween season based on something you wrote in “Amnesty Records”: “Like the monster under the bed came to life, turned out to be hot, and really wants to fuck you.” Something to the theme of Little Monsters from 1989? Indruck and NSFW if you please?

This is indeed NSFW, and also came to me all in one burst.

Duck pulls the Captain Planet comforter up to his chin, sighing as he lays down. He turned seven today, and has been spoiled and fussed over. Mama Newton isn’t much of an entertainer, but she knows how to throw a birthday party. 

 A scrape  of nails on the floor and the rustle of something under his bed makes him freeze. 

“Taco, that you?”

When the cat doesn't appear, he sinks further under the covers.

“Mom?”

“No”  soft voice with a bit of hiss drifts up from under the bed.

He swallows, “Who’re you?”

“My name is Indrid. I live under your bed.”

“No you don’t, you weren’t there last night.”

“How do you know?”

“Just do. So go away.”

“No.”

“I’m gonna call my dad.”

“He won’t believe you” the bed frame rattles, “he will tell you to be a big boy.”

The monster is right, just yesterday dad was saying how proud he was of Duck being brave at the doctor. Fine, maybe if he pretends it’s not there, it’ll go away. 

“....aren't you going to cry?”

“No.” He sets his shoulders, glares at his wall.

“....not even a little?”

“No.”

“Oh.” A sigh, “I am not very good at this.”

Duck didn’t know monsters could be sad.

“Are, uh, are you a grown-up monster?”

“No. I am young and little, like you. They would not send a grown-up monster to a child, they send them to grown-up humans.”

“Grown ups don’t have monsters under their beds.”

“They do. They may not know it, but they do.”

Indrid doesn’t say anything else and Duck falls asleep. He’s hoping the monster won’t come back, but the instant his mom turns out the light, he knows he’s there. 

“I’m n-not scared.” He whispers to the ceiling.

“Yes you are. I can taste it.”

“You can't hurt me. You ain’t real.”

 A hand closes around his ankle and he yelps. The monster laughs, then hisses when Duck kicks his wrist. 

“That was not nice.”

“Neither was grabbing me”

There’s a huff, but nothing else. The third night, Duck is ready, sticking a fake sword under the bed as soon as Indrid says something. 

The sword is yanked from his hands. 

“Why is it this color?”

“Suppose to be from the future. Ain’t you seen space rangers?”

“No. That is not a movie we have down here.”

Duck is only now starting to recognize awkward pauses, but he’s pretty sure this is one.

“Will you tell me about it?” Indrid slides the sword back onto the floor by his dresser. 

He rolls onto his back. He’s not all that tired, and Juno is sick of hearing about it.

“Okay, so there’s this guy who’s a space farmer….”

----------------------------------------

It’s been a year and Indrid is under his bed almost every night, but Duck isn’t afraid of him anymore. Which is why he’s determined to finally get a look at him. How scary can a monster that wants to talk about T.V or trees or whatever else Duck has been up to really be?

When his mom turns off the light, Duck slips out of bed and lays on his stomach, staring into the darkness beneath it. 

Four red eyes appear, but nothing else. 

“Hey ‘Drid.”

“Hello. Why are you down here? Did you lose that action figure again?”

“Nah. Wanted to see you. Where’s the rest?”

“Hidden in shadows. I am not supposed to let humans see me. It can be dangerous.”

“Oh, uh, sorry?”

Indrid hurriedly adds, “But we can stay like this, this is okay. I think. I do not really care, I like being able to see you. You're like the baby multibear my friend has.”

“I ain't a bear.”

“No. But you are, ah, cute.”

Only Iris, Juno’s friend, has ever called him cute, and he only knows that because Juno told him. He understood he was supposed to think that was good. But he likes it much better when Indrid says it.

“What should we talk about tonight?”

Duck rests his chin on his hands, “You wanna play go fish?”

“You have a fish?” The red eyes tip to the right. 

He snickers, “No, it’s a game. Here, lemme show you…”

------------------------------------------

“You better give that one back.” Duck grumbles as he looks down from the bed to see his new Spiderman comic missing. 

“I have given all of them back.” He can hear the smile, the one he’s glimpsed in darkness while whispering secrets under the bed; it’s wide, and there are definitely fangs, but Indrid only ever shows it when he’s happy. He never has a mean smile like the jerks at school. 

“Where’s my Black Panther?”

“...........I dropped it in the stream when I was reading.”

“‘Drid!”

“I got excited!!”

“You owe me a new one.” There’s no anger in his words. It’s just a comic book, not nearly as special as Indrid. 

“Can I give you something from here instead?”

Duck closes the new Iron Man, holds it down to the space beneath the bed, “deal.”

------------------------------------------------

He wakes up with a cry, too quiet to be a scream but with tremendous force behind it. As the nightmare fades, something rolls off the bed behind him. 

“‘D-Drid? Please, please say that was you or Taco.”

“It was me, Duck. I, I am sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep and I could taste more and more fear and I did not want you to be afraid. I, ah, I thought if I held you, it would make you feel better.”

“Thanks.” He shivers, the dream reaching out from all sides, threatening more horror if he falls asleep.

“Can, uh, can you come back up? Just for a little bit?” 

“I should not. It was already risky to do it how I did.”

Duck nods, forgetting Indrid can't see him. That's fine. He’ll be okay. He can handle-

A tree branch scrapes the window and he throws the covers over his head. 

“Put your hand over the edge of the bed.”

Duck slips his hand out from the blanket and lets it hang in the air. Fingers link around it, and then Indrid is holding it full on. It doesn’t feel like holding Janes hand when he’s helping her cross the street; it’s cold, smooth, and the nails are sharp. He sneaks a glance, sees red claws wrapped around his wrist, and feels safe enough to sleep. 

--------------------------------------

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah, don’t know why I’m so worried about startin’ high school. I mean, it’s fucking Kepler, the high school ain’t any bigger than the middle school. “

“I always get nervous for new lessons. Even with some ability to see the future, I am worried I will do something wrong. Maybe it is that?”

“Yeh.” Duck rolls onto his side, hoping for a glimpse of a hand. He wishes he knew what Indrid looked like, wishes he was coming to school with him tomorrow. 

“I am sure you will be fine. You are intelligent, and funny, and charming.”

He smiles at the wall, “Thanks, ‘Drid.”

“Any time, Duck.”

--------------------------------

His roommate is snoring, which is not what he was hoping for from his first night in the dorms. Class tomorrow is going to fucking suck if he hasn't slept. 

“Congratulations on the successful move.” A familiar voice slinks up to his ear. 

“‘Drid? Holy shit, did you follow me?”

“I am your monster, I go where you go. Sort of. It is complicated. What is not complicated however, is this.” The clawed hand pops up to the edge of the bed, placing a wrapped package near Duck’s head. Stealthily removing the paper shows it’s the bright orange truffles that come from Indrid’s home. Duck loves them.  

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“It is traditional in both human and monster culture to give a gift when one moves to a new home. And I like bringing you things. Are you feeling well? Excited to learn about the forest?”

“Yep. Just wish I could get to sleep.”

“One moment.”

He feels Indrid leave. Then his roommate's bed shakes and shudders, the other guy jolting awake in fright. He doesn’t look like he’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. 

Duck shifts onto his side, facing the wall, and whispers down the stucco, “Thanks.”

---------------------------------------------

A perk of his roommate getting a girlfriend is that Duck gets more nights alone. He’s soaked the pillow with sweat, and is so wrung out from cumming he hasn't wiped his hands yet. 

“Are you done?”

“JESUSFUCK”

“I'm taking that as a yes.”

“Please tell me you ain’t been there this whole time.”

“No, I always leave if you are doing that. It is private.”

“Thank fuck.”

Relief is followed by disappointment, which he decides he won’t think too hard about. 

It only takes another night before he does, imagining Indrid listening to him fuck himself, whispering instructions for how Duck should do it, even touching himself at the same time, getting off on the sound of Ducks pleasure before holding his hand all night. 

------------------------------------------------

It’s fall, and the apartment he and Juno share is close to campus, cheap, and fucking freezing.

Duck knows just how to warm up. Sliding his hand down his sweats, he starts picturing Rich, but the thought of jerking it to an ex is a boner-kill waiting to happen. So, he switches to his trusty fallback, selecting a blonde, fresh-faced yet kind of punk body for the voice under the bed. 

He wants to draw it out, but fantasizing about Indrid always sets his hand flying, too many nights like this seeding a deep desire in his veins that he has to purge fast for fear of what will happen if it lingers. The monsters name drops from his lips, breathy and urgent, and he’s too caught up to care  

“Indrid, fuck, please.”

“Please what?”

Gasping, he sits up. A figure is standing at the foot of his bed, staring at him with red eyes. In the dark room, he can’t make much out beside their glow and two short horns on the top of his head. Duck’s mind spins so fast it hurls out the first sentence that comes.

“‘Drid’s got four eyes, not tw-”

Another pair of eyes open just below the first.

“They are a secondary pair, so I can keep them shut and see just fine. I thought the sight of them might be too much combined with the rest of me.” Indrid murmurs.

“Th-though I ain’t allowed to see the rest.”

A shrug, “You aren’t. But I cannot bring myself to care right now. Not when you say my name like that.”

Summoning his courage, Duck locks his gaze onto Indrid’s own and slowly drags a hand up his dick, “You gonna show me the rest or not?”

A hissing growl curls around him as Indrid leans forward, clawed hands leading the crawl onto the bed. In the moonlight coming through the window, Duck sets eyes on the whole of him for the first time. 

His face is angular, sporting his wide toothy grin and framed by silver hair falling just past his chin. Past the claws, his arms are a mixture of tan skin and black and red scales, twining up his arms. The same combination is clear on his chest, visible above the neckline of the white tank-top. Flashes of color appear under the fabric, racing down Indrid’s spine, and Duck would ask what they are if Indrids face had not just come level with his. Standing up, the monster can't be much taller than him. But here, pinned against his headboard like a scientific specimen, Indrid bracketing him, he feels frighteningly small. 

“What happened to not spying on me when  I did this?” The words stick in his dry mouth. 

“It was accidental. I only stayed when I heard you call for me.”

“Wasn't callin.” Heat rises in his face. 

The grin widens, “Oh no?” A long tongue drags down Duck’s cheek, “You did not have even the smallest hint of hope I would her? That I would lay in the shadows, savoring the sounds of you, ah, taking yourself in hand?”

He’s so strange looking, every sensible part of Duck is screaming for him to run, to banish him under the bed and go back to his normal life. 

Duck inches his face forward, closing his teeth round the lobe of a pointed ear, “Maybe.”

Indrid chuckles, “Then maybe I have been hoping for the same. Maybe I have been touching myself and dreaming it was your hand instead of mine. Maybe” he brushes their noses together, “I have wanted this for as long as you have?”

“Least a year, more if I’m bein honest with myself.”

“Several years, but then again, I had the pleasure of being able to see your face. It made you all the more appealing.”

Duck reaches out a shaking hand, stroking silver hair. He means to say some platitude about Indrid being handsome because the affection in Duck’s heart means he couldn’t see him any other way. While that may be true,  a second, more surprising truth comes out in its place. 

“Thinkin if you’d let me see you, we woulda gotten here a lot sooner. “

There’s another growl and then he’s yelping out a laugh as Indrid yanks him flat on his back and unceremoniously rips his shirt off. His monster brings their lips together, tongue sliding between Duck’s lips as the human shoves both hands into Indrid’s hair. When he teases his tongue against Indrid’s, the monster whines, pressing closer and pawing his sides. 

“‘Drid” He mumbles. 

Another whine, higher and morphing into a chirr as Indrid grinds their hips together.

“‘Drid, you gotta let me breathe.”

The monster breaks the kiss, but coats his face in pecks as he catches his breath, chirping all the while. Something solid ripples beneath the fabric of his black pants where they rub against Duck’s thigh. 

“Holy fuck what, what exactly are you packin down there?”

“Would you like to see?”

“Hell yeah.” 

The pants and Duck’s sweats hit the ground in quick succession, Indrid’s shirt landing atop them a moment later when Duck pulls it off to kiss along the scaled swirls of his chest. 

“Well, what do you think?”

“Guh, uh, jesus, uh, ‘Drid, what’s it doin?”

Indrid looks down to where four short tendris are unfurling to reveal a ridged cock.

“Getting ready to fuck you?”

“Uh, how exactly?”

Indrid licks his lips, “Lay back and I will demonstrate. Do not worry, as much as it pains me to focus on anything but your face, I will use my foresight to be certain nothing I do leads to trouble. 

Duck rests his head on the pillow as Indrid settles between his legs, claws pricking his thighs when the monster pushes them apart. 

“Does the whole thing goOH, oh fuck.” He wiggles his hips, “fuck, ‘Drid, that feels so fuckin weird.”

‘That is not surprising. It is one of the tendrils which, unless I'm very wrong about human anatomy, none of your previous partners had.”

“Nnnnnnfuck, fuck you’re gonna fuckin ruin me, god fuckin damn that feels nice.”

“Wonderful.” Indrid bends down, hands gliding to rest by Ducks biceps. He kisses him slowly s the tendril continues stretching him open, slick and pulsing in time with the careful movements of Indrid’s hips. 

His monster noses down his throat, drgs his tongue back up it with a purr, “You taste divine.”

“If you,re fuck gonna eat me, do me a favor and do it after I cum?” Duck teases, stroking Indrid’s shoulder blades. 

Indrid laughs, “A fair request. But I have zero interest in eating you; how could I? I would lose my best friend and my new favorite past time.” The tendril thickens, making Duck moan and throw his forearm over his eyes. 

“Fuuuck, are all monsters this fuckin sappy?”

“Only yours. And it is not as if you're not that way. I remember those love notes you asked me to help with.”

“Okay okay, we’re both big fuckin marshmallows. Now, AAHnn, are you gonna help me break this bed or not?”

Indrid pulls out with another growl, kneading Duck’s ass as he lines up his cock, “Yes, yes I am.”

“FUCK, ohfuckohfuck, yeah, fuck yeah.” Duck digs his fingers into Indrid’s back as he shoves in, “‘Drid, tht’s so fuckin goodohshit, what, what’s it doin now?” The tendrils have spread, one curling around his dick, two teasing his balls, and the fourth twining up Indrid’s shaft, meaning Duck’s toes curl with new sensations on the next thrust.

Indrid grins against his neck, “Taking care of you.”

“Ain’t that, that thoughtful.”

“All for you my sweet, goodness, you’re so warm and your ass is delightful.” His lips find Duck’s cheeks, “I’ve wanted this so long, sweetheart, so very longAHhnnnn.” His head hits the pillow as Duck scratches down his back. Not only do colors flash in his wake; spikes emerge along the ridge of his spine, flickering red to purple to black.

“Is that-”

“-okay yes very, o-okay. You can touch them, they will not hurt.”

Duck runs his finger up one. It’s feathery and smooth, rising and lowering with the undulations of Indrid’s body. Tugging it makes Indrid snap his hips with a chirring growl.

“Yes, yes do that again, more, please ohahnnnnisJunohome?

“No?”

“Good.”

The words Duck meant to say give way to shouts of pleasure as Indrid slams into him over and over, sinking his teeth into his shoulder and clawing at his sides. Duck scratches his scales and skin, strokes and pulls the feathery spines, Indrid trilling when he does. His hips quicken, Duck struggling to keep pace as the monster pins him more firmly to the bed. When he cums the tendrils tighten, sending Duck over the edge right after him. Indrid kisses him again, nipping long his lips as he whimpers the monsters name. 

As his whole body spasms and relaxes, Indrid rolls him over, panting. 

“More, I want more, again, mine, you are all mine.”

Duck looks over his shoulder, grinning fondly, “Uh huh.”

“What is so funny?”

“Nothin. Just, uh, realized there's a plant your dick reminds me of.”

Indrid blinks so intently his second set of eyes join in the expression. Then he cackles, draping himself over Duck to kiss him again. 

“You can tell me all about it after we are done with the extremely pressing matter of me fucking you again.”

“Go wild, darlin.”

This time the pillow takes the brunt of the noise, Duck grunting and moaning into it as Indrid fucks him from behind, switching between slow, gentle thrusts and grabbing Duck’s hips to drive into him hard enough to set off fireworks in his brain. He’s overstimulated to the point of tears, but his whole system floods with pleasure at the intensity of Indrid’s desire, the feeling of being so utterly used and wanted all at once. When the monster pulls out, he’s cum enough that it drips down Duck’s thigh, tingling as it goes. 

“Now” Indrid flops onto the mattress, wriggling into Duck’s waiting arms, “tell me about this plant.”

----------------------------------------

When Juno gets home Sunday morning, Duck is in the kitchen humming long with a playlist on his phone. 

“Holy fuck man, what happened to you.” She stares at the bitemarks and bruises all around his neck and shoulders and the scratches on his legs. 

“Had a real nice weekend.”

“You got all that from a hook-up?”

Duck shakes his head with a secretive smile, “Nah. Just had a sleepover with my new boyfriend.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #alternate universe #monster boyfriend #monster under the bed

[taylizmasterpost]

Liz After the Agency (September 2012 - September 2014)

So, Liz is spiraling. Her mental health isn’t doing great. And she was just asked to leave The Agency (presumably to take care of herself, although the public reason given was for her to start a solo career). Things are bad.

However, in the darkness, there’s always a light. And the light for Liz, in this case is her neighbor, Bryan Brown.

24 September 2012 - Liz and Bryan tweet at each other for the first time:

17  October 2012 - Taylor writes This Love:

Now, this COULD be about Liz, considering the back and forth. However, I’m more inclined to believe Taylor wrote this about Swiftgron’s first break up, right after they got back together, which you can read more about here. 

The same day, Liz makes a vague tweet about jealousy:

It’s crazy weird to me that the same day Taylor is celebrating getting back together with Dianna and writing This Love, Liz is pissed off and jealous about something. Coincidence? Maybe. But I don’t think so.

22 October 2012 - Red is released. According to a later interview with the photographer who did the Red booklet (who happens to be Liz’s current roommate), Taylor based the concept of the photoshoot on some headshots they’d taken for Liz: 

“Taylor is a mutual friend of ours. Stephen and his brother were friends with her years before, and I became friends with her separately. What ended up happening was one of her background singers needed headshots. When Taylor saw them a few months later, she came to me and was like, “Liz showed me the shots you took of her, and I need my album to look exactly like that.” Clearly, this was a no-brainer. I said, “OK!” Before then, I’d been kind of burned out on music photography. A lot of the shoots were super controlling. I needed a new perspective on the field itself and wanted future shoots to be very free-flowing — just the artist and a minimum crew. Luckily for Stephen and me, that’s exactly how Taylor presented the Red album shoot. So it was just the three of us shooting everything together. She wanted everybody else to remain off set, allowing for a more personal and intimate experience.”

So, I don’t know why Taylor did this. Maybe she wanted to look like a hipster for the Red album and Liz was the best she knew. Or, maybe, she wanted to scream to those who knew her well that this album was about LIZ HUETT. 

In this series of Liz headshots, there’s also one specific photo of Liz wearing the Stevie Nicks moon necklace that Taylor possibly gave to her:

Is this possibly one of the reasons why Taylor wanted to mimic them for the Red album? 

Later that day, Taylor goes on Good Morning America and says she wrote a new song “like two days ago” (probably talking about This Love?)

And after that, Taylor tells the LA Times that Begin Again and State of Grace are about the same person:

“There were a few track list choices I knew I was going to make way in advance,” she said. “I knew I wanted to bookend the album with ‘State of Grace’ and ‘Begin Again’ because they’re inspired by the same person who inspired a few songs on the record. I wanted to start and end the album with the first and last song I ever wrote about that relationship.”

“Then in between those songs, I wanted to paint a picture of the ups and downs I’ve experienced in life and love, not necessarily in the order it happened chronologically,” Swift continued. “I like to spread the emotions out in a way that never makes you feel like there’s a sad lull, then a burst of four songs in a row about joy. At the end of the day, I make a track list based on what my gut feeling tells me.” ‘Begin Again’ is my song version of a cliffhanger ending. Throughout the whole album, there have been songs about the trials and tribulations of love and loss, and there at the end of the record it starts all over. As soon as I wrote that song, I knew exactly where I wanted to put it.”

Now, I don’t think this means Begin Again is about Liz. I think it means that Liz is the past relationship in the song, and Dianna is the present. And Liz actually has a song called “Good About Her” that kind of mirrors Begin Again and I find that HILARIOUS and also kind of a smoking gun.

26 October 2012 -Taylor goes on Katie Couric. Katie asks if Taylor’s ex in WANEGBT got the message and Taylor says she “hasn’t heard from him since” and also mentions “some of my exes like to write really long emails.” Now, if the song is about Liz, this is a lie, because she definitely did get lunch with Liz after WANEGBT came out. However, I think it’s fair that what she’s hinting here is that things did not end well in that messy relationship.

25 October 2012 - Liz quote tweets Caitlin about crying on the treadmill to All Too Well :

8 November 2012 - Liz releases Never Know on YouTube:

The lyrics that make me think this is about Taylor are the “now and then I catch myself singing your old song.” ESPECIALLY in the context of that treadmill tweet and Liz probably having written this during her Nashville sessions over the summer. However, it could also be about Jason, who, as we know, was a struggling musician before he became a photographer.

18 November 2012 - Taylor shoots the MV for IKYWT, wears the same black and white shirt she wore around when Liz first joined the band. Liz calls the news of her leaving the Agency “bittersweet.”

And “bittersweet” is the exact same phrasing that around a week later Taylor would say the ex who most of Red is about used to describe listening to the album:

19 November 2012 - Ali Puliti tweets about listening to two Liz demos -- Blessed Are the Brokenhearted and Dammit, meaning this song, which wouldn’t be released until 2018, was likely written during those summer 2012 songwriting sessions:

When the song was eventually released by Jana Kramer in 2018, Liz posted this on Facebook:

The song also notably contains the lyric “cause I could hear you in the kitchen, playing your guitar” which REALLY REALLY makes me think of Taylor. Although it could maybe be for Jason, who was also a musician.

Here’s the story Liz told about the song:

“‘Dammit’, actually, was a story that I lived out. Like, I was with somebody I was, you know, getting very serious. We were talking about starting a life together and we even had this house, like, picked out in the city where we lived and we would drive by it and be like ‘one day when we buy that house’. And, so, when we broke up, the pain of, like, saying goodbye was really, you know, really intense, but it was also mourning the loss of the hypothetical future. So, it was like saying goodbye to the past memories and stuff, sort of what we almost had and that’s where that song came from. So, honestly, I didn’t write it for anyone else, but myself, truly. But, um, it’s beautiful that music has such a way of resonating with someone who might not even know and they connect with it so much that another artist would want to sing it. It’s such a high compliment.”  

And here’s a quick clip of Liz singing it. So, seems like a Jason song, if not for the fact that she wrote it almost a year after they broke up and kept it hidden for years before eventually giving it to another artist.

13 December 2012 - Taylor’s birthday. Liz does not wish her happy birthday. This, to me, is the biggest evidence that there’s some amount of bad blood between them at this point.

14 December 2012 - The Music Video for IKYWT comes out. Taylor wears a shirt she wore a LOT when TayLiz was first a thing in 2009. She also wears a key necklace, which will be important later.

17 December 2012 - Liz posts a picture from Claire’s birthday party using a picture without Taylor in it (even though it seems fair to assume Taylor would’ve been invited).

20 December 2012 - Liz tells a fan her favorite song from Red is All Too Well:

21 December 2012 - Liz wishes Claire happy birthday. Further signaling bad blood with her and Taylor since she didn’t bother to do it for Taylor.

9 January 2013 - Liz releases Blessed Are the Brokenhearted:

Here she describes love as “burning up out of control” which is the same phrase Taylor used on Red -- “burning red” -- and Begin Again -- “I’ve been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end.” Also, the idea of love as an out of control flame really does describe their relationship.

20 January 2013 - Liz releases One Hand on the Wheel:

Here, much like in Red, Liz describes a relationship using the metaphor of a car. The relationship is messy, maybe even toxic. There’s even a lyric that sounds like it could be out of treacherous: “Being wrong shouldn’t feel so right like it does / But it does.”

22 January 2013 - Liz releases Wreck of Who I Am.

This is the song that is the strongest evidence for me that Liz WAS going through some mental health stuff over the summer when she was doing all this songwriting, and that that Reddit post about running into a drunk Liz who said she was fired for being “out of control” seems somewhat accurate. Here Liz sings about her battles, the way she’s losing them, and asks her younger self what she would think if she saw her now.

I’m not going to go into too much detail on Liz and Bryan (since unlike her and Jason there’s no need to use them to say much about TayLiz) but, despite his flaws, he was the person to pick Liz up off the ground when she was feeling this way, so he should get some credit for that.

Sometime around this - Liz releases Stones. Similar upbeat nature to Blessed Are the Brokenhearted with mentions to some of the struggles of Wreck of Who I Am.

Choice Lyrics:

When you’re knocked off your throne And lying on your back Things will never be so clear Cause when you see it all like that Sooner or later it comes around Yeah we all taste that bitter truth But all the stones you’re throwing now Will be the ones they throw at you

Also with these batch of songs, we get Sun Out of the Rain:

So baby, hold on, the storm will roll away It may be pouring down, but it’s only for today A million pieces might be falling into place And when there are no words to say We’ll make the sun out of the rain

29 January 2013 - Chantelle Paige posts a picture of Liz and Taylor and talks about a “sad night turned awesome.” Once again, I think this is a throwback from that night in 2012.

2 April 2013 - Liz goes to therapy. Her and Bryan are dating at this point.

2 September 2013 - Liz tells a fan on twitter that she hasn’t been to any of the Red shows, which to me definitely backs up that fan account of Liz being bitter about being fired.

23 December 2013 - Liz wishes Taylor Happy Birthday. This seems like a peace offering to me, considering they haven’t spoken in like a year and she refused to do this the earlier year. Also worth noting that Swiftgron is on its last legs at this point.

1 March 2014 - Sara Evans releases Put My Heart Down, which was co-written by Liz and is about walking away from a toxic relationship:

Now, from what I know of Liz and Jason, this doesn’t seem like their dynamic at all. It’s too soon for it to be about her and Bryan However, it does remind me a LOT of what Taylor was writing about on Red. Her are some choice lyrics:

I never pictured us fighting this much Thought we were figured out, but it’s so messy now Your words cut so deep and I think you should leave

Put my heart down and walk away This kind of love is dangerous So pack up all your things, just leave some air to breathe A million toxic tears fallin’ like rain over here This is the final hour The end of our story tonight And I don’t wanna fight

Now, please go listen to Treacherous, Battle/Let’s Go and Story of Us and tell me this is not the same relationship.

Bonus though, this song is copyrighted for 2014, making it make even LESS SENSE for it to be written about Bryan. 

17 July 2014 -  Timothy James Brown releases a song called Change My Mind that was co-written by Liz. I’m out of video links, so here are some choice lyrics:

All the horses became soldiers Dark as night to drag me away A complicated kind of heartbreak When you promise somebody you’ll stay

I know you’ve been hurting I know more than most I don’t have the courage Where you’re going, I can’t follow

To me, this reads as Liz making peace with leaving the Agency. She recognizes her demons, and how they ruined her relationship with Taylor, and says “where you’re going, I can’t follow” because she’s not in a good enough place to keep touring with Taylor.

So things are looking bleak in TayLiz land. However, Liz seems to be recovering! She’s writing songs acknowledging some problems in the relationship and her own battles, and she’s also in therapy and dating Bryan. It’s time for some reconciliation. But first, let’s see what’s up in Taylor-land:

Liz References on the Red Tour

[365days365movies]

April 11, 2021: Tootsie (1982) (Recap)

To be clear, I like Dustin Hoffman.

I can’t exactly claim that I’ve seen him in a lot of his most iconic roles, but I’m planning on fixing that this year for sure! On my to-watch list this year and beyond is Midnight Cowboy, Kramer vs. Kramer, Stranger Than Fiction, and Marathon Man at the very least.

But that’s not to say I haven’t seen him in other iconic roles of his, of course. Fun fact: I actually tried to do this project in 2019, and it...didn’t work. But, one of the films I watched that year was one of Hoffman’s most iconic dramatic films: Rain Man.

Oh, and by the way, that movie is not about an autistic man. Or, rather, it’s not based on a man diagnosed with one of the autism spectrum disorders. Instead, he actually most likely had a genetic disorder called FG syndrome, unrelated to the spectrum disorders. Ironic, since Hoffman’s character was the pop-cultural depiction of autism that people STILL refer to quite often, and quite inaccurately. But, obviously, that’s not Hoffman’s fault, and he was good in the movie, to be fair.

I grew up with him in Hook, as the pirate captain himself (I still do his laugh sometimes, it’s weird, I know). He had an underappreciated starring role in one of my favorite guilty-pleasure films, Outbreak (I fucking love that movie, and I’m not ashamed to admit that). He was in Finding Neverland, but I just forgot about that until I looked up his filmography to write this intro. And, of course...Master Shifu.

So, yeah, I actually DO like Dustin Hoffman, despite the fact that his role in The Graduate wasn’t stellar for me. Just seemed kinda miscast, and a little too awkward to be even slightly sympathetic. Then again, he wasn’t really meant to be, so maybe Hoffman was the perfect choice. Even then, he still acted well in it.

And anyway, I watched that movie for two major reasons. One, it was on my list of films to see, and TWO: it was a lead-up to the ACTUAL Hoffman film I wanted to watch this month: Tootsie. After all, I just watched rom-com Some Like It Hot, and if you’ve looked at me schedule, you know what film is coming next. So, this one fits in my planned schedule. Why? Well...there’s a theme.

Yup. I actually picked these movies for a reason. See, here’s the thing: this is a repeated trope in comedies, and I’ve always wondered whether or not it’s...problematic. But, much to my surprise with Some Like It Hot, they actually used the situation to comment on the female experience. I mean, not necessarily really well, but they tried at the very least. And for a film from 1959, that ain’t bad!

Which isn’t to say that it’s entirely clean, of course, but it was far better than I’d expected. So, if 1959 did that OK, how did 1982 do? Let’s find out, shall we?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Michael Dorsey (Dustin Hoffman) is an acting coach, as well as being an actor himself. However, he’s not the most successful actor, as he keeps attempting to audition for pieces, only to get refused for nebulous reasons, or refuses them when he disagrees with the director. He might want to take his own advice, for the record.

In the meantime, he works in a restaurant with Jeff Slater (Bill Murray), a playwright and roommate. That night, the night of his birthday, he spends time with an actress friend, Sandy Lester (Teri Garr), and also hits on the majority of women there that night.

As the party concludes, and various people go home, Sandy is abandoned by her date, and Michael offers to take her home. She breaks down crying, and Michael guesses that she’s upset about an upcoming audition. He gives her some coaching advice, and manages to get her to produce the correct emotion for the role. Afraid that she’ll lose it without him, he agrees to accompany her to the audition and enrage her. It’s very funny.

That morning, however, she IMMEDIATELY gets kicked out of the audition, as she wasn’t right for the part. However, when he goes to help her by speaking with an actor on the show, he finds out that the actor is off the show, and is instead getting a part that MICHAEL was supposed to get. Now enraged himself, he goes to speak with his agent, George Fields (Sydney Pollack), and the two have a tense conversation. It’s revealed that because of his difficult nature, he has a terrible reputation in acting circles, and literally nobody will hire him.

Challenge accepted.

Now dressed up as a woman named “Dorothy Michaels”, he goes back to the audition that passed on Sandy. Like her, he’s also immediately rejected by the director, Ron Carlisle (Dabney Coleman), who insists that she’s too “gentile” for the part of a hospital administrator. This causes “Dorothy” to go off, in a righteous monologue that accuses Ron for conflating power with masculinity. Which...yeah, he totally is, and DAMN, it’s a good tell-off!

Producer Rita Marshall (Doris Belack) agrees, and invites “Dorothy” to read for the part. He comes in to read, and in the process meets Julie Nichols (Jessica Lange), to whom he’s IMMEDIATELY attracted. He brushes that off, and the audition commences. From there, he gets the part, which is a regular part on a soap opera called Southwest General.

Now fully invested in the dumbest idea anybody’s ever had, “Dorothy” goes to her agent and tells him the ridiculous news, and asks for $1000 to go shopping for more clothing. Back at their apartment, Michael speaks to Jeff about the whole situation. He notes that he’s doing this to get the money for his play in Syracuse, which requires $8000 to produce.

Sandy is to be cast in this play, which is an issue, as they now need to explain where the money came from, as it’s technically from the part that SHE was refused for, which would hurt her feelings. He lies and says that the money’s from a deceased relative. While in her place, and while she’s in the shower, he decides to try on some of her clothes to get ideas for Dorothy. But when she walks in on him, he lies AGAIN and says that he’s sexually attracted to her. And she reciprocates IMMEDIATELY, which leads to an unintended relationship.

On the set, “Dorothy” finds out that he’ll be kissing John Van Horn (George Gaynes), an older actor who’s clearly a bit past his prime, and makes it a point to kiss every actress on the set when they start on the show. Gross. Michael agrees, and when the scene comes, he improvises and has his character (Emily) hit the doctor instead.

While the director (who’s a DICK, by the way) notes the improvisation, he approves of it, while also discouraging any similar actions in the future, and calling her “toots”. “Dorothy” takes it, rather than talks back. John compliments her on the improvisation, and then kisses “Dorothy” anyway, much to Michael’s shock!

We also find out that Julie, who plays a nurse on the show, is dating director Ron. Later on, though, Michael observes him making out with another actress on stage. Shortly after this, Julie invites “Dorothy” to dinner at her place, which is eagerly accepted. At dinner, we find out that Julie has a young daughter and that her relationship with Ron is...not stellar.

They have a discussion about being a woman in the ‘80s, and the complexities inherent in that concept, which is an interesting theme of this movie! Gotta say, this is a more socially-conscious version of Some Like It Hot, and I really like that! But the conversation is cut short when Michael realizes that he’d promised dinner with Sandy that night, and leaves in a hurry.

Dinner with Sandy is awkward, as Sandy is...Sandy is a lot, to be honest. But, she tells Michael that the woman hired in her stead on the soap opera (who is, of course, Michael himself), is written as a wimp, rather than tough as intended, and that she should change that. Michael agrees, and actively goes against the script to make the character of Emily far tougher. and essentially a feminist.

While this causes some grief to Ron and Rita at first, Dorothy Michaels soon becomes a massively successful and popular actress on the show, and her popularity absolutely explodes. Michael’s wrapped up in the success of Dorothy Michaels, and thinks that she might be able to branch outside of the role of the soap opera. Which is difficult, as his agent points out, because of the simple fact that Michael is...well, Michael.

At a party that his agent invites him to, Michael meets Julie AS MICHAEL. He uses a line on her that she’d mentioned before to Dorothy, only to be met with a drink to the face. Which is fair, as the line was about being honest about wanting to have sex with her, so I get it.

On the set soon afterwards, we see that the show is becoming more progressive, allowing Julie’s nurse character to stand up to John’s chief doctor character. After the scene is done, the director once again calls Dorothy “toots” instead of her real name, and Dorothy absolutely snaps back at him, and rightfully so! In response, Julie goes and invites Dorothy to a weekend in the country, on her father’s farm. Despite some rebuke from Jeff for lying to Sandy AND Julie, Michael as “Dorothy” goes on the trip.

This, by the way, is an excellent time to mention that this film is exuding some real strong, uh, vibes. You know...alphabet mafia vibes. Like, it’s definitely there, heavily leaning towards Julie. Obviously, “Dorothy” is actually the heterosexual Michael, but that’s not helping, just saying. And there’s literally (and absolutely obviously) nothing wrong with that, but it’s so strong at this point that it’s hard to ignore.

On the farm, “Dorothy” meets Les Nichols (Charles Durning), Julie’s lonely and genuinely nice father, if a bit old-fashioned in his views on gender politics. He’s also got the hots for “Dorothy”, which is funny-but-awkward as shit. That night, Julie tells “Dorothy” some very personal things about her dreams as a child, which is a genuinely very sweet scene. And can I just say, that this movie is both funny and quite heartfelt? I love it! Also, again, the vibes...THE VIBES.

Meanwhile, the popularity of “Dorothy” continues to skyrocket, to the frustration of director Ron, but to the delight of producer Rita, who decides to extend her contract with the soap opera by a full year! Oh FUCK! Realizing what the hell he’s gotten himself into, Michael calls his agent, who tells him that it was in his contract, meaning he’s basically fucked.

Jeff also tries to help hi, out of it, to no avail. Just then, though, they get a call from Julie, looking for “Dorothy”. She’s been having her doubts about her relationship with Ron, and she realizes that she’s been settling for Ron and other men like him. And Dorothy’s inspired her to be a better person, and to be honest with others and with herself. Fuckin’ OOF.

Just then, Ron arrives, allowing them some alone time, as Julie is getting ready for their night out. In the process, “Dorothy” reveals that she knows about his indiscretions with other women. Ron proceeds to use the EXACT SAME EXCUSE that Michael used to excuse his lies to Sandy, and it’s well-executed! Good job, writers, that’s pretty awesome.

“Dorothy” promises to watch Julie’s daughter for the night, which proves a bit of an issue, but he works it out. Julie returns later on, having broken up with Ron. Another heart-to-heart ensues, but this one is concluded with a revelation that Julie is lonely, despite the fact that she appreciates Dorothy’s influence and friendship. And then, "Dorothy” tries to kiss Julie. OH

Yeah, Julie’s not exactly chuffed about this as, despite a LOT of “Sappho and her friends” vibes, she doesn’t actually swing that way. “Dorothy” tries to explain, but this is interrupted by a call from Julie’s dad! He asks her out on a date that night, and “Dorothy” accepts. On said date, he FUCKIN’ PROPOSES TO HER! She promises to think about it, and takes the fuck OFF.

And to continue the parade of “Fuck me, I guess” that marching down Michael Street, who should show up at the apartment but John, from the show! Having followed her home the previous night (YIKES BUDDY), he literally serenades her outside of the apartment window, before “Dorothy” lets him in. It’s there that he reveals he’s MADLY in lust with her, and it’s HILARIOUSLY awkward. Thankfully, just as John is forcing himself on her, Jeff walks in on them, interrupting John’s actions, and causing him to leave in shame.

AND FUCKING THEN, after all of that, Sandy arrives at the apartment to find out why Michael’s not returned her phone calls. And Sandy’s a lot, sure, but all of her concerns are completely valid and legitimate. And despite Michael’s impressive ability to lie, he tells her the truth: he’s in love with another woman. Which she absolutely freaks the fuck out about, but whatever, not like Michael doesn’t deserve that.

Having had it with all the drama around Dorothy’s life, he goes to his agent and hilariously recounts to him the whole series of events that’s taken place. Still struggling to find a way to get out of the situation, he goes to work the next day, for an awkward conversation with Julie. She thanks Dorothy for inspiring her to be true to herself, which cuts DEEP, but still says that they shouldn’t spend time together anymore.

Producer Rita arrives with news: the erasure of a reel of footage has forced them to shoot a scene live. Said scene involves a party being thrown for Dorothy’s characters, putting her in the starring role. And THAT is when Michael takes his chance. Dorothy improvises a monologue about Emily’s REAL past, as a twin who tragically died before realizing her dream to become a hospital administrator. Ripping off his disguise, Michael reveals himself as Emily’s twin brother, Edward!

Everyone on stage and at home is SHOCKED, especially Les, John, Sandy, and of course, Julie. And once the cameras stop rolling, Julie now understands everything. She walks right up to Michael...AND PUNCHES HIM IN THE DICK

John asks if Jeff knows, and I break in half laughing.

Months pass. Michael was able to fund Jeff’s play in Syracuse, and goes to meet Les, who lives in the area. The two make amends after an understandably awkward reunion, and they begin the journey to become friends after everything. This prompts Michael to return to the city and speak with Julie, who is...less than happy to see him. Which, yeah, entirely fair.

But, again overcoming the initial awkwardness, Julie is able to admit that she misses her friend Dorothy. And Michael reciprocates, speaking for Dorothy, who is...well, him. He says the following great line: 

I was a better man with you as a woman than I ever was with a woman as a man.

And from there...the two decide to rekindle a friendship, with Julie asking to borrow one of Michael’s dresses. And y’know...I’m rooting for those crazy kids.

That’s Tootsie! And, uh...I love it! I LOVE it. I actually think this is a great film, and one of the best I’ve seen this month. But I’ll elaborate...in the Review! See you there!

#tootsie #sydney pollack #dustin hoffman #jessica lange #teri garr #dabney coleman #doris belack #charles durning #bill murray #george gaynes #geena davis #comedy april #user365 #365days365movies #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #usercori #userleo #bbelcher

[mochikeiji]

Take a Hint.

↠ Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Akaashi Keiji

↠ Warning: College AU! Fukurodani Volleybal Team!(with managers) Shy Akaashi! Popular Bokuto! Slight NSFW, Fluffy

↬ Word Count: 3,912

Summary: First year college student, Akaashi Keiji begins his new life away from the comfort of his home solitude. Growing up to be an introvert, Akaashi had a hard time gaining friends and fitting in. But what happens to someone when they've met a rowdy senior who somehow slithers their way into their lives and becomes their only friend? Or maybe more.

⇢ Day 2: Obliviousness/Pinning, Roomates, College AU @bokuakaweek2020

✎﹏

It really is terrifying for some to move out of the comfort of their house and their personal room to move into a dorm for their first year in college. For some it seemed fun and adventurous, only because they were an extrovert.

Unlike Akaashi, a man with few words, was an introvert. Sure he used to play volleyball back in his highschool days— even got himself the spotlight as their schools top tier setter, but he believes he could never match the other monsters such as Atsumu Miya, Kageyama Tobio and former captain of an opposing school, Oikawa Tooru. To him, he was nothing but an average person trying to get a good grade and a college degree and good job and die just like that.

His mother did try to tell him to atleast make some friends during his days in highschool so he wouldn't be so lonely. He couldn't say he can't do it due to his facial expression and blunt words. He couldn't help it, it was already part of his charisma. Now, he wished he wasn't so alone as he carries a box of his belongings in a crowded hallway to the dorms. Seeing other freshmen and seniors helping out each other was one thing he secretly envied. He wanted a friend too, but he was just clueless on how to even make one.

Keeping his head lowered and muttering small, soft excuses on his way to his dorm, he manages to make his way smoothly away from the crowd, thinking they might've been whispering stuff about him being odd when clearly no one even saw him pass through.

Rummaging in his pocket for the key, he pulls out the small metallic object. But before he could thrust the key up into the doorknob, it flung open.

"Oh? Are you my roommate!?"

The chattering hallway was immediately silenced as the mega phone like tone of voice dominated the entire atmosphere. He was a loud person, Akaashi thought.

"Y-yes, but you may want to keep it do—"

"Ah? What are you nervous about! These guys," he points behind Akaashi with a grin, "They're all my buds! Right? Hey!" he starts as the students behind Akaashi laughed and followed his lead, "Hey, hey, hey!!"

It surprised the black haired male to see them, even the mean looking ones just go along with this mans quirks. He must be popular then.

"Anyways, come in! I'll show ya around." Bringing his hand on Akaashi's smaller frame from behind, he flinches from the contact and squeaks silently with the door clicking behind him closed. Sighing, he takes a long look at each corner of the dorm. It only held two beds from each side and two study tables. Typical.

He then reviews over his roommate's side of the dorm, it wasn't as neat as he expected from him. His bag was wode open with papers bulging out, his sheets were torn off the mattress, and what caught his eye was a volleyball jersey displayed on his pillow.

So that's why he was so popular, he thought.

"Sorry about the mess there, didn't expect my roommate to come until tomorrow." Bokuto follows Akaashi's eyes, giving him a sheepishly smile while scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "But enough about that, I forgot to introduce myself." he swung his right arm toward Akaashi, "My name's Bokuto, Bokuto Koutarou, second year college student."

Fumbling with the box, Akaashi quickly places it down on his side and bows in respect, "Sorry, I didn't know you were a senior....Senpai." he can feel his skin crawl with goosebumps from the honorific rolling out of his tongue like a female character in a shonen manga, "I'm Akaashi Keiji, first year college student. Thank you for having me here."

After that small introduction Akaasgi managed to pull off, he was giving himself a pat on the back for actually interacting with someone normally with out bluntly saying anything out of the blue.

Or so, he thought.

"A-ah, no, it's fine. You can just lay off the honorifics, Kaashi. Bokuto is fine."

He was caught off guard by the sudden nickname he was given. I guess they were in that bases now. Akaashi gets up from his position and gives him a small nod, "Very well, Bokuto."

The room fell into a deep silence, other than the sound of Akaashi's stuff being carefully put away properly. His other stuff were still downstairs in his mother's car, he'd have to hurry un packing. But his movements were not only slow, nor careful, it was as if he was trying not to mess up or do something embarrassing as he felt golden eyes just grazing at the back of his head.

"Say, Kaashi," flinching again from Bokuto's sudden call, "Do you play volleyball? You have pretty big hands for a small boy like you."

"Have you been watching me?" that's what he wanted to say, instead he was flustered and pushed up his glasses to hide his already sweaty self.

"I used to be a setter."

Putting his leg down, Bokuto's eyes lightens up with a sparkle, "Really!? Then join the volleyball club here!" jumping off of his bed while looking at Akaashi with hope glittering his golden eyes.

"There's a volleyball club here?" to Akaashi, all he thought of college was just study, libraries, and cafeteria. He didn't stop to think if there were clubs like the ones during his highschool days.

"Of course! It would've been boring to study if we didn't atleast have a sports club. So, will ya join?" egging him, Bokuto was on his feet awaiting for the males answer.

"No."

Ah, that was too blunt.

"EHH?! Why not? You must be a pretty good setter!" His eyes trail at the tips of his seniors hair. They were dropping down as if they too were also feeling his emotions. Afraid that he might've hurt the males feelings, he quickly apologized and explained.

"Sorry, it's just, I think there will be mroe better setters for your team, Bokuto."

"Hm? But we don't even have a setter."

Akaashi's mouth closes, not knowing how to tell Bokuto that he was just not the type to be outgoing and indulging himself into prying eyes. Sure, he was able to sought out his passion in volleyball back in middle school and highschool, but that was only because he was never noticed by some people. During official games, he'd only have his hair slightly grown a bit to hide his eyes whenever he plays to avoid feeling thw pressure by the crowd. Sometimes, he'd allow himself to be seated during an entire game and watch his other setter take his on his role.

Yet somehow on his third year, he manages to catch the title of being captain.

"I'm just not cut out for it, Bokuto." he twiddled with his fingers from both habit and to ease his sweaty palms, "I'm not a pretty good setter."

"Show me first, and I'll be the one to comment." Bokuto huffs and crosses his arms with a childlike pout forming on his mouth, "And for the record, I think you're pretty."

And that was the beginning of Akaashi's heart always beating harder whenever he was with Bokuto.

After four months of adjusting into the new world, Akaashi had gone through the months according to his neatly made schedule. But even so, the past four months was also filled with Bokuto's never ending pleads for him to join the volleyball club and be their setter.

Which leads to him now panting in his sweaty attire with Bokuto still high on stamina and determination.

"One more, Kaashi. Give me a good toss!" with that being said, the setter runs into his position after one of their teammate's had flung the ball up. With long fingers easily grazing the ball and fitting his hands perfectly, Akaashi delivers it to his right to where Bokuto had already sprung up with his feet.

Like a big bang, the ball sounded as it looked squished by the floor after having the ace smash it down. Pants were heard from all players, but Akaashi paid no attention to the sweat dripping on his forehead nor was feeling exhausted. His eyes were more focused on the way Bokuto had spike the ball and landed perfectly on his feet.

And it was oddly satisfying for Akaashi to keep seeing his only friend send him straight into an awe.

That being said, it wasn't the only thing that was seen by just him, but the fact that he has done it ever since he has gotten in the team, it was so obvious to everyone that he was staring at their ace.

No one bothered to say a word about it, but being with an airheaded captain, at some point without Akaashi by the distance, they would run forward to him and say, "Looks like you've caught a really rare attention there, Bokuto."

And it always ends with, "How do you catch someone's attention though?"

Blowing a whistle far from the team had broken his stare from the captain. Before any of them could gather up, there were cheering from both above and below the sidelines of the gym.

"Bokuto senpai! You did so good!"

"What an amazing spike!"

"You really are an unstoppable ace!"

Most of them were consist of females. From senior to freshmen, they seemed to be oogling more on his physical appearance more than his passion according to Akaashi. It had been like this ever since he joined, every end of their practice, his senior would always be crowded in a herd of praises and swooning ladies. It was said by his teammates that Bokuto was a sucker for praises, and since he was well known to this university everyone of his adoring fans knew that about him.

And it made his insides churn into an unpleasant twist to see him casually talking to them, more so letting them touch him so freely.

"Akaashi, you seem troubled." another one of his senior who was at the same class as Bokuto, Yukie had spoken as she passes him his water bottle. Looking at to where his eyes were seconds ago, she could see Bokuto and couple of males but more on females gather around him with another round of praising and some gifts given.

"Bokuto has always been gaining a lot of attention ever since he entered the campus," Yukie sighs, "It's getting really annoying, we can't even finish a simple meeting after games." looking back at Akaashi, she let's out a small flinch when she saw him looking almost depressed by staring at Bokuto.

"I wish they'd leave him for his peace." no, that wasn't what he meant. Feelings were not a stranger to Akaashi, he wasn't oblivious of his own emotions. He knows what he has between him and the ace, and knowing that and seeing something like this happen all the time crushed him. The only thing the setter didn't know was how obvious he was pinning after the ace to his teammates and managers.

"Hey, hey, Bokuto senpai," calls out by a random girl, "Who's that guy over there, the one wearing number 5." she points at Akaashi, who now averted his eyes immediately away from Bokuto and started talking to Yukie.

"Yeah, I don't think we've seen him before."

"Isn't he that nerd from Class 1?"

"I think sensei offered me a tutor from him."

"Wasn't he wearing glasses? He looks kinda hot without them."

Each comment passes to Bokuto's ears made him bite the insides of his cheeks. There was no way they were going after Akaashi.

"Ah, well, that over there ladies is our setter, Akaashi Keiji. He just joined in a month ago so he's still kinda shy." Konoha, another close friend of Bokuto and his teammate steps in the conversation, "He's single but I don't think it's easy to catch a fella like him." he jabs the ace's chest with his arm, hinting him about something with his eyebrows moving up and down.

Wincing at the slight pain, he glares at Konoha, "I don't think it's a good idea to pin for Kaashi, ladies." he finally spoke, this time his tone somehow getting lower only to be noticed by Konoha who was quietly snickering behind his fist, walking away to go talk to the red haired manager.

"Why not, Bokuto?"

"Does he already have his eye on someone?"

Contemplating whether or not he should admit it, Bokuto blurts out, "Yes! Well no! Soon, someone's already have their eye on him and well," glancing slightly at Akaashi with a hint of longing and impatience, he holds himself together and lets out a sigh, "That someone is trying really hard to get him to like them."

"So, did he got mad at you?" Yukie places her hands on his hips as Konoha approaches her with a sly grin on his face.

"No but he did somehow indirectly admit his love." winking at Yukie, who sighed at his little antics.

"You really are an idiot."

"So are those two."

An hour passes, Bokuto managed to get all of his fans out for them to resume packing up and cleaning the gym. Akaashi was silent after the entire fiasco and placed each ball on the basket carefully, still deep in thought about his friend.

Bokuto notices how quiet he has grown. It wasn't the normal kind of quiet he's known to Akaashi, but rather this one seemed to be sad, "Hey, Yukie. What's up with Kaashi? He hasn't spoken to anyone, let alone, me." finally done lowering the net, Yukie sighs once more and lightly smacks his head with her clipboard, earning a small whine from Bokuto.

"Honestly, can't you take a hint Bokuto?"

For the past four months, since Akaashi's first day in the University. When Bokuto had decided to introduce him to his group of friends, despite them being older than him, they could already see how fond the owl haired male was with the smaller male.

Even before Akaashi was introduced, he was all he talks about with them during dismissal or anytime they'd get together. Everytime they'd go ahead to the cafeteria, they can see his eyes caught in his direction all the time. The kind of eyes that showed so much emotion to volleyball.

And once they got to know Akaashi, they thiught to themselves they were going to be fine knowing Akaashi wasn't as dense as their baby like captain was.

Oh how wrong they were.

Akaashi had gotten close to Yukie for the oast two months since she was mostly on her own. Kaori was always with Konoha and Washio since she was in the same class they were, but different schedules. When Yukie found out that Akaashi did too, have emotions for Bokuto, she was giddy. But when she heard him utter out, "I don't think he likes me." that's when the frustration built up. Doesn't he notice the way he was being stared at or even the lingering hand on his shoulder whenever Bokuto pats him?

"What hint?" his tone was troubled, Bokuto was truly lost at this moment, not knowing what had caused his beloved friend to feel this way.

"Try talking to him later, Bokuto," patting his shoulder, "And please, tell him already." letting go of him, Yukie walks away with the rest of the team, leaving Bokuto behind to think.

"Tell him what though?"

Back to their dorms, Akaashi rubs his eyes using his fingers to ease the tension that had been laid upon his shoulders for the past few hours. Admittedly, he has this kind of bitterness flowing in his blood remembering the events earlier, but after a few seconds, those bitterness occurred to his insecurities. He was used to over thinking a lot when he was alone, but never about another person. It was always about him.

Groaning loudly he lands his face on the plush of his pillow, releasing a shaky breath as he looks at the bedside Bokuto owns, "Why did it had to be you?"

"Who are you talking about Kaashi?"

Jolting up at the sound of the door clicking behind him, Akaashi could only stare into his face with the orange light of their room illuminating his features in the dark night. Being roommates was harder when you were living with someone that literally shakes your entire world.

"Nothing." plopping back down on his pillow, Akaashi exhales deeply. To Bokuto, it seemed Akaashi was more frustrated to see him here, but to the timid male, he was just calming his heart from beating erratically inside of him. Hearing his footsteps closing in, he thoughts to himself he was finally going to sleep. What surprised him and made his face flush against the pillow was when he felt his bed dip down from his feet as Bokuto sat down.

"Are you mad at me Kaashi?" Bokuto looks at his back side in worry, "You haven't talked to me after practice. You even left without me today." There was a tinge of guilt inside Akaashi. He didn't realize he left Bokuto alone after he left since they always walk together back in the dorms.

When Bokuto heard no reply, he continues, "Yukie told me something about not taking a hint on something? I don't really get it," golden eyes averting up on their dim light of the room, "But the more I thought about it on the way back, all I could think of was you, Kaashi."

Holy shit, he wasn't going to do it now.

"I know it sounds lame, but I really did thought of what she said and all that pops out was you, you get where I'm getting at, right?" Bokuto had his arms on his legs by now from moving into motion as he spoke. Meanwhile if Akaashi were to sit up, his heartbeat might've been already heard.

Gulping quietly, feeling Bokuto's eyes watching him intently, all he could do was shake his head slowly. He wanted him to go on. He needed to hear where he was going with this. He can feel the vibrations of his light chuckling from his body as Bokuto sighs.

"Usually I'm not afraid of doing something out of the blue, y'know? You've seen me do some weird crap all the time." Akaashi's light laugh muffles against his pillow as he continues, "But when it comes to these, it really gets into me. Telling someone how you feel about them."

The last line made Akaashi almost ascend to heaven. Was he dreaming? Was he expecting too much to know what was going to happen next? The numerous scenarios running through his head all mixing up, causing his cheeks to flare up. They got worse when Bokuto landed a soft palm on the small of his back, jolting a bit from the sudden contact.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that," Bokuto pauses, shifting his position closer to Akaashi, leaning his head next to his ear, "I like you."

Shivering at his warm breath against his ear, Akaashi bit his lower lip at the small rush of arousal from his lower regions, clenching his thighs together to ease himself.

"I like you. I don't know why it connects to Yukie's words, but somehow telling you this at this moment felt kinda right." he gave his back a small stroke for comfort, noticing him tensing after uttering out his sudden confession, "You probably don't like me, Kaashi. It's not everyday you see someone the same gender as you say that nonchalantly." chuckling out sadly, he smiles, "Still, I'm still here for you. So please, whatever is bothering you, tell me. We can dismiss what just happened now."

Not liking the end of his sentence, Akaashi grabs his hand from behind and sits up quick, "No! That's not what I meant, Bokuto." both were in shock and daze. Their faces held a tinge of redness in them, for Bokuto, Akaashi looked way more tempting than he already was with his added messy appearance.

"I-I'm sorry I left you unintentionally." he glances down at his smaller hands being held by himself, fighting away the butterflies as his feet were getting colder, "I was just really troubled by those people," he explains, "It had been a bother to me that you were always crowded by so many people...That I began to look down at myself." he grips his hand as he thought about how painful it was to endure the same scene as earlier everyday.

"What's worse is that I have feelings for you.." Finally admitting with quivering lips, "I like you, but there were so many people better than a squanny nerd like me." sighing, he lowers his forehead on Bokuto's hand that he held, avoiding eye contact. Despite having to hear his confession first, he was in fear of the future he had no idea what held the possibilities that might hurt him.

"Kaashi, why do you think I came here, sitting down on your bed, and telling you that I like you," each line he said, his voice was going lower, huskier, followed by moving his hand away from his forehead and cupping his cheek, "And just you."

Akaashi was shaking on his spot. He didn't know what to do consisting this was his first time to be experiencing this. And his first instinct?

Was kissing him.

It caught Bokuto off guard and balance, luckily he stabilizes himself by carrying his weight with one hand leaned on the mattress, and the other pulling Akaashi closer in the kiss. Both males were stuck being oblivious to each other, now getting addicted into something that they've wanted for so long ever since they've encountered each other.

Akaashi whimpers a bit feeling Bokuto's tongue swipe his lower lips for entrance, in obligating, he allows himself to be dominated by the muscled male, letting himself gently fall back into bed with him hovering over him. Hands making their way on his sides to squeeze them, making him squeak and melt into the kiss.

Pulling away panting from the loss of oxygen, they both stared at each other in daze and with so much love.

"I guess you made your own point there, Kaashi." Bokuto teases, lacing his hands together from the side of Akaashi's head.

"Shut up, please." he scoffs, pushing his head to his side to feel less embarrassed of his vulnerable state. Bokuto chuckles, peppering the side of his cheek with kisses and affection.

"I'm kidding, Keiji. I've been wanting to kiss you too."

He sees the way Akaashi's cheeks reddened from calling him by his first name. It felt so right coming from his mouth. And he loved every second of it.

"So why don't you do it again..."

"Do what again?"

"Koutarou..."

"I'M KIDDING— KAASHI WAIT NO, DON'T GET UP."

He laughs, and it was music to Bokuto's ears. Making him flustered above him. Akaashi pulls him by the neck, an inch aay from his face, "Does this mean I'm your boyfriend now?" he asks, his voice lacing with worry.

"Well you are my boyfriend, but you can ve the girlfriend if you want." Bokuto teases once more, before giving his pouting lips a short kiss of confirmation,

"But yes, I'm all yours now, Keiji."

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu ships #bokuto x akaashi #akaashi x bokuto #haikyuu akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji #haikyuu bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou #bokuakaweek #bokuakaweek2020 #bokuaka #akaboku #akaashi fluff #bokuto fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #akaashi smut #bokuto smut

[queen-scribbles]

Lisa Shepard vs Batarians

Behold, a meta about Lisa I’ve long wanted to write, inspired by this post about Torfan(got kinda long for just a reblog) and motivation provided by @fourthage‘s Mass Effect giveaway. (I’m much better about finishing things when I can give it a deadline, lol)

----

Lisa is my Colonist/Ruthless Infiltrator Shep, and let me tell you, that background combo made her really interesting to play(through the first two games, at least; my computer crashed before I had a chance to import her to ME3, rip) bc she has this big, glaring problem with batarians. The tl;dr is Mindoir was deeply traumatizing and no batarian ever did enough to counter the extremely negative image she has of their race as a result. (apologies for slight stream-of-consciousness rambling, I tried to rein it in, but I think I was only partially successful >.>)

So we start, obviously, on Mindoir. Lisa’s the oldest of four with three younger brothers; Justin, Finn, and Connor, and had two best friends; Javier and Laura. Life was routine and uneventful and the only thing she cared about the larger galaxy was getting to explore it with Javi and Laura after they all graduated.

And then the batarian raid happened. Lisa didn’t see her parents die, but she did see friends die in the initial attack, as well as Laura’s dad. She had to watch Finn and his best friend(Talitha) get dragged to a shuttle. She, Javi, and Laura hid in a storage shed with their remaining younger siblings(one of Laura’s sisters was gone, too) in hopes of keeping them safe. They spent the next three days in there. They were found by a few batarian patrols, somehow managed to kill them all with bare hands and makeshift weapons(or stolen, Lisa got a pistol off one she killed), even as their own numbers got picked down, younger sibling by younger sibling, and then Laura, and then Javi, until.Lisa was the last one left, memory etched with hearing her best friends and younger brothers, brothers she’d promised her parents she’d look out for, die very terrible deaths. 

She was found by a couple soldiers from the rescuing Alliance patrol, and actually attacked them when they first came in the storage shed. They had to calm her down, and one went so far as to pull off his helmet so she could see they were human and weren’t going to hurt her. He introduced himself as Gabe and guided her out of her personal hell, both literally and figuratively. After everything she’d witnessed and heard and knew had happened to the colony, to her home, at the hands of the batarians, Lisa didn’t feel the least bit guilty for being glad the Alliance killed every last one of the slaving bastard scum they found. She’d lost everyone in the world she cared about to those monsters, she had every right to be glad they paid for it.

The soldier, Gabe, stuck with her until she’d made it back to Earth and escorted her to the foster home that had agreed to take her in. checked up on her a few times, offered to let her live with him and his roommates(another man and a woman, all three of them soldiers) if she wanted to. She took him up on that, and by the end of the third or fourth month, he was big brother and best friend rolled into one. Being on Earth meant she didn’t really have much(if any) direct interaction with batarians, but she was still working through her trauma and every time she heard them mentioned in news reports it was batarian pirates attacking a civilian vessel or batarian slavers raiding another colony--human, turian, whatever, all it did was reinforce her hostile view of them as a race.

She joined the Alliance military when she turned eighteen, feeling it was the best way to act out her gratitude of them saving her. She still missed her family and friends, of course, but she was healing and adjusting and while batarians still get her hackles up, she wouldn’t go out of her way to cause trouble with them. Largely because that would reflect badly on the Alliance, and she doesn’t want that. She proves to be an excellent soldier, tech genius, and near-unparalleled sniper, which is what gets her the rec for N-school(courtesy of Captain Anderson, who was Gabe’s CO. Gabe introduced them the day she enlisted). She excels in N-school(she’s always been the sort to thrive on challenge) and is clearly going to graduate with flying colors, so she and Gabe work it out--he’s coming for the ceremony, they each manage to get leave for the following week, they’re gonna spend time catching up and celebrating and just get to see each other face to face for the first time in... over a year. 

And then, the week before graduation, Gabe is killed rescuing a diplomat’s kid from, you guessed it, batarian pirates(he’s one of only three KIA on that mission, which doesn’t make it sting any less)..That is when they cross the point of no return in her eyes. Two separate groups of batarians are responsible for the deaths of her family twice over. Clearly this was not a “few bad individuals” thing; this is a failing of them as a people(A people who have enslaving others enshrined as part of their culture to the point of calling it discrimination when they’re not allowed to practice it). 

She is a driven, pragmatic, determined individual who wants to represent humanity and the Alliance well and so works just fine alongside every other race in Council space. She’s always willing to help, also always willing to make the hard calls to get a job done bc she learned early that people die. You can’t save everyone every time. You still try your damnedest to do it, but sometimes you can’t. And sometimes people die as a result of your decisions and you have to be able to live with that. She can. 

And then TORFAN. Well, first Elysium, and then Torfan. By this point, she’s N4, risen to Commander, and absolutely willing to push her squad however hard it takes to accomplish their goal. (In any circumstances, these just happen to hit a tad closer to home than usual) The fight through Torfan’s tunnels to the pirate base is brutal, and there are several times her men point out maybe they should turn back. But she pushes on bc their mission is to take out this group of pirates. In her mind, batarians are already a threat, given their culture of slaving, piracy, and utter disregard for life and others in general. If they get away with attempting a full-scale attack like they did on a world like Elysium, they’ll be exponentially more dangerous. So there have to be repercussions and they have to be swift and they have to be brutal and unflinching and if she’s the one who doles that out so be it. 

It costs her 3/4 of her squad, but they do it. They fight the pirates to the point of surrender and then Lisa shoots them anyway. Her mission was to eliminate the enemy, and she’s A) worried the batarians are surrendering as a show, with no intention of actually being prisoners, and B) convinced even if they did surrender, the Hedgemony would demand their return as “political prisoners” or something, with good odds they’d be released after just enough time this  “incident” will have faded from people’s memory, and she doesn’t want to risk either. So the dozen-odd surrendering batarians still.die. And while she didn’t take pleasure or satisfaction in doing it, she doesn’t regret it either. Her thought process is somewhere along the lines of “These are sadistic, murdering, slaving scumbags, who have the audacity to ask for the mercy they would never in a million years show their victims. The galaxy is better off without them.”) She doesn’t care it gets her labelled “The Butcher of Torfan” and that people look askance at her when they know her record. She got the job done, the galaxy is just that much safer, and she’s not going to lose any sleep over batarians.

She makes N7 and gets the Spectre nomination bc she pushes herself just as hard as anyone under her command, always gets the job done, and--aside from batarians--has no issue working with other races. When it comes to anyone else; turians, asari, hanar, whoever, she’s all too happy to follow Kaidan’s “jerks and saint, just like us” philosophy and judge them on an individual basis, but--and I’ve actually had her say this in fic--”If you ever find a saintly batarian, let me know and I’ll pin a medal on their chest my-damn-self”. Between what’s known of batarians as a race and culture and her own first or second hand experience, there is nothing redeeming about them in her eyes. (And it’s a very good thing she didn’t run into any during that... week after the Talitha encounter in ME1, bc she probably would have ripped them to shreds with just her bare hands and her omnitool after hearing what that poor girl went through.) She’s not going to go out of her way to gleefully/vindictively slaughter them, but she’s not feeling too charitable or sympathetic toward them, either. If I may make a cross-franchise reference, Lisa’s feeling on batarians are very similar to how Fenris feels about mages in DA2, only unlike him, she hasn’t gotten any examples they’re not all Like That(TM).

As of the end of ME2, she has not seen any evidence to counter her view of batarians, so it’s a view she’s gonna go into ME3 holding(whenever I get around to completely redoing her game), and I don’t see her changing it much at this point. It’s a flaw, and it’s one that’s going to persist probably her entire life, but it made playing her so much fun. (especially since my two previous Shepards were 98% Paragon ANGELS who are best described as bleeding hearts. xD) 

#lisa shepard #mass effect meta #hooo boy that got long #torfan #mindoir #tried to stay vague about what she saw on mindoir but if it's still bad enough i should tag let me know #mindoir was BAAAAD

[alounuitte]

cactus blossoms

(or, some can only bloom with water from the desert sky.)

Adam needs some support while he recovers from a surgery, and Shiro volunteers to be his best friend's roommate for the summer after their first year in the Garrison. Somehow, it turns out he's not the only one Adam gets a chance to get closer to, and an operation isn't the only thing he's recovering from. (pre-relationship, but no romance will be in this.)

chapter 8.

Shiro can tell Adam’s worried; all afternoon on Saturday he can barely sit still, nervous energy threaded through him like a live wire. Even while he’s laying on the couch reading, he keeps fidgeting and biting at his nails, his brow furrowed in a frown as his eyes skim the pages of his book.

“You okay?” Shiro asks him, when he sighs and sets down his book for the third time in two hours, climbing to his feet.

“Fine,” he says, but he’s wringing his hands together as he crosses the room to look out the windows at the desert.

“You’re on edge,” Shiro points out, leaning against the counter. “Do you want to do something so you’re not just sitting around?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “Like what?”

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t know - play a video game? Go for a run? Finish unpacking your stuff?”

“I’m not much of a runner,” Adam says, shaking his head. “And the other stuff is melacha.” Shiro’s lack of comprehension must show on his face, because Adam glances over at him and laughs shakily. “Um - work, sort of. Things you don’t - Jews don’t do on Shabbat, we’re supposed to relax.”

“Yeah, you don’t seem like you’re relaxing,” Shiro points out. “And I think if you chew your nails down any farther you’re gonna start bleeding.”

Adam’s eyes go wide and he looks down at his hands, grimacing as he examines his fingers. “Oh,” he replies faintly.

“So if you can’t play video games or unpack, what can you do?” Shiro prompts him. “There’s gotta be something that’ll keep your mind busy so you’re not stressing out so much.”

Adam shrugs. “Read, or spend time with family, or friends. Study, or pray, or sing. Playing games is okay, I guess, if they’re not on the computer, or gambling games.”

“Hm,” he muses, considering this. “Like strategy games? I think Sam’s got a chess set in his office. I’m not very good, though, so you’ll probably beat me pretty easy.”

For the first time all day, a genuine smile crosses Adam’s face. “Is he here today?” he asks. “I wouldn’t mind playing a game or two if you can borrow it. Maybe I’ll give you some tips.”

—

Shiro retrieves the chess set from Sam’s office, leaving a note on the desk to say that he’s borrowed it for the weekend, and they sit on the floor and play chess for the rest of the afternoon, talking aimlessly between moves, until the sky outside the windows is melting from blue into pale violet and a few stars begin to twinkle into view above the horizon.

“I think that’s a checkmate,” Adam says as he carefully sets down his remaining tower.

Shiro laughs, leaning in to knock over his king for the third time. “I told you I’m no good,” he says, grinning.

“I think you did better that time,” Adam says as he gets to his feet, laughing a little himself. “Thanks for that, I haven’t had anyone to play with since I got here.” He crosses to the kitchen to grab a bottle of juice before heading back towards the divided bedroom.

“Maybe by the end of the summer I’ll be able to beat you,” Shiro jokes, and stretches, pushing himself up off the floor and trying to ignore the stiff protest in his legs. “I’m gonna get some fresh air before bed, I think.”

“Hey, wait a sec,” Adam says, pausing at the edge of the partition separating their rooms. Shiro looks over at him and sees him shift uncertainly, his shoulders hunched. “Um - I know I said I don’t really like running, but…”

“Yeah?” Shiro prompts him when he doesn’t continue.

“If you’d be willing to wait a few minutes so I can do havdalah, it might be nice to go out on a walk, for a little bit?” Adam says, looking down at the ground. “Just around the edges of base, maybe, if you’d wanna come with me.”

Shiro beams at him, bouncing eagerly on his toes. “I’d love to, yeah,” he agrees. “Take your time, I’ll wait for you.”

Adam smiles back and ducks around the corner to his half of the room, and Shiro can hear him singing softly to himself on the other side of the partition. He stretches while he waits, listening to the indistinct murmur of Adam’s voice as he warms up the muscles in his legs. There’s a good chance he’s going to regret going out on a walk when he’s already been running today, but as long as he’s careful he thinks he can manage the trip around the base, and the fatigue will be a problem he can worry about tomorrow. He takes Sundays off, anyways.

A few minutes later, Adam emerges in shorts and a t-shirt, a half-zipped hoodie thrown overtop to keep warm in the evening chill. “Ready?” Shiro asks, grinning, as he goes to pull on his running shoes.

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, nodding. “Let’s go.”

—

They end up taking one of the trails just outside of base, the dirt track taking them out into the open desert and up along the rocky ridge half a mile east, the red stone painted blue and purple in the fading dusk light.

“Can we stop for a minute?” Adam asks as they reach the top of the rise; he’s panting a little, clearly out of breath from the climb.

“Sure,” Shiro says, shrugging. “I’m following you, man. You okay?”

He nods, sitting down on the edge of a rocky outcropping. “Just need to catch my breath.”

Shiro drops down next to him, stretching his legs out across the path and wrapping his arms around himself, the cool air making him shiver now that they’ve stopped moving. “How are you feeling?” he asks after a long moment of silence.

Adam sighs, leaning back on his hands to look up at the sky. “In general, or about Monday?” he asks with a shaky laugh.

“I mean, both, I guess,” Shiro says. “I know you’re worried, but it’s gotta be exciting, too, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Adam says, and gives him a wry smile. “Maybe once I’m better I’ll start playing sports again. Stuff for fun, I mean, not just training.”

“Maybe you’ll come running with me once in a while,” Shiro teases. “You know, give me some motivation.”

“And get up at four in the morning?” Adam says, laughing. “Keep dreaming, Shirogane.”

--

“I’m going to do something stupid,” he says Sunday morning, burying his face in his hands. “I’ll say some moronic thing and make a fool of myself and--”

“To who?” Shiro asks, bewildered. “Most of the cadets have already left, and we’re not even living in cadet’s quarters for the summer anyways. Who’s going to hear you say something stupid?”

“You are!” Adam says, looking up again in despair.

Shiro shakes his head slowly, frowning. “What, you think I’m gonna make fun of you?” he asks.

“No - well - I don’t know,” Adam stammers, and sighs, slumping back against the couch. “No, you wouldn’t do that. But I don’t - like that I might say things I won’t even remember.”

“You want me to record it?” Shiro offers.

Adam’s mouth twists up as he looks away. “That’s stupid,” he mumbles, his shoulders hunching.

“Okay,” Shiro says, shrugging. “Sorry, I just thought maybe it’d help to be able to see.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Adam asks, quietly, “You wouldn’t show anyone, right?”

“No!” Shiro says, gaping at him in dismay. “Of course I - why the hell would I do that?”

“I… guess you wouldn’t,” Adam says, fidgeting with his glasses. “I just want to be sure.”

“I can send it to you and delete it right away,” Shiro assures him. “After that you can do whatever you want with it.”

“Hm,” Adam muses, biting his lip as he considers this. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.” He hesitates, glances over at Shiro with a frown. “You’d really do that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shiro says. “I wouldn’t offer otherwise.”

“Okay,” Adam says, and sighs. “If you really don’t mind.”

—

It rains most of the afternoon, but by evening the sky clears, and Shiro can see the sun sinking towards the desert from the open windows of their quarters as he heats up water for tea in the kitchen.

“Is that all you’re gonna eat?” he asks, raising an eyebrow as Adam spreads jam on a slice of toast. “You know you can’t eat anything past eight, right?”

Adam shrugs, leaning against the counter and looking out the window as he nibbles at his toast. “Not really hungry,” he mumbles. “I’ll be okay.”

Shiro frowns, looking over the stiffness of his shoulders, the way his fingers curl and uncurl around the hem of his t-shirt, the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stand still. “If you’re sure,” he says slowly. “Hey, you wanna go up to the roof and see the sunset?”

“What,” Adam says dryly, “you don’t want to run out into the middle of the desert today?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and Shiro laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t want you to wear yourself out before your surgery,” he says lightly as he grabs his thermos from the cabinet. He’s been resting all day, but he’s still not sure he’s up for a run after overdoing it yesterday, and he wants to be in top form tomorrow for anything Adam needs.

“I don't think we're really allowed up there," Adam adds, putting his plate in the sink. "Aren't we going to get in trouble?"

"Nah, I go up there all the time," Shiro says. "Anyways, no one really checks until curfew, and that's not for an hour still."

Adam considers this, frowning, and sighs. "I guess I'll come up with you if you're going," he agrees.

“Great,” Shiro says cheerfully. “Hey, hand me your thermos, it’ll be nicer with something warm to drink.”

He drops two teabags in each of their thermoses and fills them up with water while Adam pulls his shoes on, and they leave the quarters together, heading up to the roof to watch the sun sink into the desert.

--

Shiro is up before dawn to go running like usual, but he ends up thinking better of it today, knowing Adam’s going to need him ready to provide support. Instead he watches out the windows as the sky grows lighter, and is delighted to see splashes of color strewn across the rocky landscape past the outer wall, where the lean, tough plant life has suddenly burst into bloom after the rain.

“Morning,” Adam says as he emerges from his side of the room, his hair still tousled from sleep and his glasses set crookedly on his nose.

“You’re up early,” Shiro says, surprised. “Your procedure’s not for another two hours, is it?”

Adam shakes his head, hunching his shoulders. “Can’t get back to sleep,” he says quietly. “At this point I might as well stay up.”

“Well, on the bright side, you’ll probably sleep plenty from the anaesthesia,” Shiro points out with a wry smile

Adam doesn’t laugh, his shoulders still drawn in tightly, and Shiro’s smile drops from his face.

“Hey,” he says softly, crossing the room to put a hand on Adam’s shoulder, and realizes he’s shaking. “You’re gonna be alright.”

“I know that,” he mutters, looking away. “It’s not like it’s a high risk procedure, or anything, I know I’m just being stupid—“

“Whoa, hold on, I didn’t say that,” Shiro protests. “I don’t think that, it’s okay that you’re still nervous. I mean, this is kind of a big deal!”

“But I,” Adam protests, and breaks off, his hands curled into fists in front of him, his teeth worrying at his lower lip as he looks around the room at anything but Shiro.

“It’s okay,” Shiro repeats, squeezing his shoulder firmly. “I know you’re worried. Just try and breathe, alright?”

He shuts his eyes and focuses on his own breathing, listening as Adam’s slows to match. When he opens his eyes again, Adam is looking up at him, and manages a slight smile when Shiro meets his gaze.

“There you go,” Shiro says, smiling back. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and laughs weakly, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

--

Half an hour before Adam’s appointment, they leave their quarters and walk down to medical together for him to check in. He’s fidgety and restless, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie to keep them still, except when he reaches up to needlessly adjust his glasses again.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Shiro reminds him when he hesitates outside the waiting room door, and reaches to put a hand on his shoulder.

Adam tenses briefly at the touch, then sighs and relaxes slightly, closing his eyes as he swallows hard. “Yeah,” he agrees, and nods, managing a faint smile. “Thanks.”

“Checking in for a procedure?” asks the receptionist as they enter.

“Weismann,” Adam mumbles without looking at her. “E-I-S, not I-S-E.”

“Got it,” she says, tapping at her keyboard. “Any relation to—?”

“Probably,” Adam sighs before she can finish her question. Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“Eight a.m. with Dr Jordan?” the receptionist asks. “Lauren - oh, wait - Commander Montgomery as your contact?”

“Does she let senior staff call her that?” Shiro asks, amused. “She hates when students call her Commander.” The receptionist blinks at him, puzzled, but Adam laughs, ducking his head farther to hide his grin. Shiro beams.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Adam confirms.

“You’re checked in,” the receptionist tells him. “Dr Jordan just got in, he should be with you shortly. Go ahead and have a seat.”

Adam nods and crosses the room to sit down, Shiro trailing after him. “Thanks,” Adam mutters as Shiro takes the seat next to him. “I think she was gonna ask more about my parents if you didn’t jump in.”

“No problem,” Shiro whispers back, and drapes his arm over the back of the chair, not quite touching him. “That sounds like the last thing you need right now.”

Adam smiles wryly and leans back in his seat, resting against Shiro's arm. His hands curl and uncurl in his lap, restless, and he tugs absently at the hem of his sweatshirt as he looks around the room. When the door opens he sits up quickly, needlessly straightening his glasses as he looks over towards the doctor approaching. "Cadet Weismann, right?" the man says, offering a hand.

"I'm Dr Jordan, it's nice to meet you.""Yes, sir," Adam says, and swallows hard as he gets to his feet. "It's a pleasure."

"Come on back," Dr Jordan says, gesturing to the door, and Adam glances back at Shiro, biting his lip.

"Good luck with your procedure," Shiro tells him, standing to clap him on the shoulder and flash him a smile. "Text me when you're out, okay?"

"Yeah," he agrees, smiling back shakily. "I'll see you in a few hours." 

#fic: cactus blossoms #adashi #adam voltron #takashi shirogane #voltron shiro #vld #voltron legendary defender #willwrites #hey: i love them

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotions

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: (M) Notes: This is my pop star au fill for my @starkerfestivals bingo card. It’s based loosely off of this post here. There is a ton of 80′s music in it, so you might want to listen along while you read; it’ll really enhance the experience!  Warnings: NSFW things, period typical homophobia Word Count: 11.5k Summary: 

Tony Stark refuses to follow in his father's footsteps, his one true love is music and nothing is going to change that. During a particularly audacious performance of ABBA, Tony is noticed by Peter Parker, a man looking for lead singer for his band.

Or - the one where there's a lot of 80's music & Tony and Peter do a lot of eye fucking on stage.

Read it here on AO3

Throughout his life, everyone assumed Tony had it made. People looked at his last name like that held the key to who he was as a person. From a young age, Tony hated it. It seemed silly, to be compared to a name – one that he didn’t even want anything to do with. His father’s work didn’t define him, despite what everyone thought. The never-ending conversations about his eventual takeover of the company drove him even further from the obligation that came with his last name and the empire built around it.

The second Tony got the opportunity to do what he wanted, he did. Being so advanced in school meant graduating high school early and escaping to the dorms of MIT. With freedom came Tony’s true awakening. His roommate, a gorgeous man studying aeronautical engineering, loved everything about music.

Up until a year or two ago, Tony simply dealt with silence in the big house he felt trapped in – then, he discovered vinyl and the goodness of classic rock; The Beatles, AC/DC, Led Zeppelin – they were all part of the soundtrack that brought him true joy and happiness.

Rhodey, on the other hand, had a very eclectic taste in music. He appreciated all of the genres, funk, pop, rock – there was always something new on the record player when Tony walked in from a class or the extra time he needed to spend in the lab. Throughout their time together, Rhodey taught him everything he ever wanted to learn about the music world – including how to play the guitar.

By the time graduation rolled around, Tony knew he wouldn’t be using his mechanical engineering degree one single bit. He wanted to explore more of the music world, he needed to be something outside of the Stark name. His father didn’t approve of his decision, but he never did – nothing Tony accomplished throughout his life would ever be good enough, anyway. Though he didn’t cut him off, he didn’t allow Tony back to the compound – he figured it to be a punishment, that Tony would come crawling back. Tough luck that was.

Getting a job at a record store kept Tony up to date with all of the new music being produced by some of his favorite old artists and some of the new ones of the day. Every day, Tony went to work in a place that he actually liked, then came home to an apartment that he paid for by himself, decorated the way he wanted, and did whatever he wanted within it. It took a little while to get the place soundproofed – but when he did, all bets were off.

He got pretty good at the guitar, his hands nimble from years of working on small parts and pieces. His brain processed the notes easily and the tone seemed to come naturally to him. Through his dabbling, Tony found that he could sing – that his voice was rich and could carry many different pitches. From ABBA to Def Leppard, Tony slowly found himself learning how to control his voice and hit all the notes throughout the different octaves.

One of his favorite pastimes quickly became karaoke. Between the good times he always had with Rhodey and the ability to get on stage and work out his voice, Tony always enjoyed the weekly trips they took to Monteros’. The bar was a dive, there wasn’t any denying that. The chairs were old and the people behind the bar were even older – but they had a great stage and an audience that rolled with whatever got brought to the table.

They tried the more upscale places a couple of times – they were nicer and had younger, hotter people tending bar. Yet, the singers were usually stiff, and the song selection was very slim. The reoccurring theme in Tony’s life came down to freedom and he was bound and determined to only surround himself with people and places that fostered that – dingy dive bars included.

That Friday night, Tony put on his straight leg jeans, white t-shirt, and leather jacket – the outfit one of his favorites to perform in. He grinned at the worn-out Sambas on his feet and quickly left his apartment, Rhodey was probably already waiting there for him with a table and a pissy expression.

Walking into the bar that he could easily add to the list of his favorite places, Tony grinned when he saw Rhodey sitting in their normal spot. The other man didn’t take part in the singing, but he always appreciated the performances – their front row seats gave him the best vantage point to enjoy them head on and center. “Hey, Rhodes,” Tony said in a way of greeting, his hand squeezing his friends shoulder briefly.

“Tony Stark – nice of you to finally join me. I know your 19-year-old self can’t have one, but I’m going to get a drink. Hold down the fort for a few minutes, will you?” Rhodey got up without preamble, the man knew Tony would do what he asked – they’d been doing this song and dance for a couple of years now.

When Rhodey got back, he sat down with a smirk on his face – dark eyes glistening with a combination of mischief and excitement. “I put your name on the list already. You’re going to love what I picked out for you.” His smirk had a chuckle bubbling out of Tony’s chest, a grin of his own spreading across his cheeks.

“You don’t scare me. Nothing will ever beat the night you made me do the entire collection of Cindi Lauper – I still haven’t forgiven you for that, by the way,” Tony remarked, his hand wrapping around Rhodey’s glass to down some of the contents. The scandalized look on his friend’s face made the burn of the alcohol worth it so much more. “Bring it on, Rhodes.”

They sat through a handful of performances before Tony was called to the stage, the song selection making everyone in the audience laugh, Rhodey included. Meeting his eyes, Tony shook his head – what an absolute prick. Either way, Tony wasn’t going to waste a second of performance time. He cycled through the embarrassingly big collection of ABBA songs in his head, the lyrics and beat of this one calling for something special.

The music started when he nodded to Clint in the sound booth. Tony wrapped both of his hands around the microphone that still sat in the stand, his foot tapping to the beat of the instrumental – the song started with a couple of empty bars filled with the thump of synthesizer. Looking out in front of him, the transition happened easily – his mouth opening wide to belt out the first lyric. “I wasn’t jealous before we met,” Tony started, the end of the line hitting perfectly with the cutting tempo of the song.

The more he got into it, the more he loosened up – Tony swung his hips to the beat and pulled the microphone from its stand, the chord following behind him easily. There weren’t too many people in the crowd, the early part of the evening always a little bare. He kept his eyes up, the best part of performing for him the reaction of everyone else. One particular set of eyes seemed to follow him the entire time – Tony pointed his body in that direction, the first chorus quickly approaching.

Stepping down off the stage, Tony started to walk through the tables – he carried himself with excitability and knew getting close to the crowd would transfer some of that energy. He passed by the table where the intense eyes were, his gaze connecting with a boy around his age, his clothes somewhat similar to Tony’s – he hit the first “lay your love on me” right as his fingers brushed against the top of the table. Turning quickly, Tony strode over to Rhodey, his friend laughing, face completely lit up.

He sprawled across the tabletop; his face turned in Rhodey’s direction so the man got the full effect of the words coming out of his mouth – “Don’t go sharing your devotion. Lay all your love on me.” Tony reached out and pressed his palm to Rhodey’s cheek, his smile evident in the words vibrating out of his chest. He sat up then, his feet dangling from the table as he moved onto the next verse.

By the end of the song, Tony was dripping sweat and completely enraptured. The energy of the room picked up the further he got into the cheesy ABBA lyrics – the crowd got into it and the more that happened, the more Tony did, too. He finished the repetitive chorus with a bang, the edges of his leather jacket spinning with every turn he took. The applause he stepped down from the stage to made his heart ache – it felt so damn good to be up there, doing something that he actually enjoyed.

It took him a few minutes to calm down from the rush – his back against the bar where he nursed a cool glass of water. He would probably put his name in for another performance later – the queue more than likely not long, anyway. For now, though, he felt content to bask in the post-performance glory. It was small time karaoke and he still felt like a star.

Turning to flag Nick down for another glass of water, Tony was surprised to see the man from the crowd standing at the bar right next to him. He glanced over at him – his features were stunning; sharp cheek bones, plump lips, and eyes the color of cinnamon. The hair that framed his face was long, the edges of it curling around his ears and up against his neck. The best part of the decade had to be the hairstyles and wardrobe freedoms – he loved the long hair and jean jacket combo.

“You were pretty good up there,” the man started, his body turning until his side was leaning against the bar – it seemed as if he could see Tony a little bit better from that angle. Tilting his head, Tony let go of the glass in his hand and did the same thing, their gazes locking much easier now.

A smile at the man’s compliment slipped across his lips. It wasn’t often random people stopped him to talk, let alone tell him he was ‘pretty good’. The only recognition of who he was came when people put him and his last name together. This guy seemed genuine, so he opened up a little. “Thanks. My friend is a dick and thought he’d trip me up with that one. Sucks to suck – I fucking love ABBA,” Tony replied, his cheeks heating up from the admission. “I’m Tony,” he muttered after a moment, his hand sticking out between them.

It took a second for the guy to take his hand – he fiddled with the hem of his jacket before actually filing the gap and grasping Tony’s offer of friendship. The black polish on his nails made Tony smile wider – this guy had to be one of his people. “Good to know you. I’m Peter,” the other finally replied, his hand lingering for a second longer before the touch was gone. Tony’s hand felt a bit bare now that the warmth was absent.

“Have you ever tried a duet?” Peter questioned, his eyes roaming over Tony, the look seemingly nervous, like he just asked him the answer to the secret of the universe, not about musical performances.

Shaking his head, Tony pursed his lips – it never crossed his mind, trying to drag someone else on stage with him. He knew a lot of music and could sing, but that’s as far as it went. Tony sung to a hairbrush in the bathroom and marveled when he got the opportunity to actually have people hear him. The thought of other people present on the stage wasn’t a thing until that very moment. “I haven’t – but I wouldn’t be opposed. Why, you interested?”

In that moment, Tony saw something that would change him forever – Peter’s smile. The other guy looked so somber until his face lit up with excitement. His eyes were bright, the caramel of them smoothing out, like molten candy straight from the boiling pot. The slightest of crinkle started at the corner of his eyes, like maybe he spent a little too much time squinting at sheet music or small text. Tony found himself grinning widely back. It wasn’t particularly safe to be looking at another man like this in public, but he didn’t care – the radiant light of this guy was too much to ignore.

“I’m interested. Do you think you could take the first part of Don’t You Want Me?” Peter asked him, the tangible elation in his words making Tony nod his head without a thought. Luckily, The Human League’s record sat on his shelf, that particular song one of his favorites from the album.

“You bet. I’ll follow your lead in the harmonies.” Tony could already hear the lyrics in his head, the thought of performing that kind of song with another man felt scandalous, but also so right.

Another couple of performances went by before Tony and Peter were called up, the crowd a lot bigger than before, the claps loud and more than enough to spur both of them on. The stage crew did a good job putting another microphone on the stage, Peter saddling up to the furthest one before Tony could even ask. Looking over at him, Tony got a nod from Peter – the light in his eyes still so bright, the anticipation of performing very obviously coursing through him.

The song started, the funky beat playing into the first set of words – “You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you.” The pace was fast, so he focused on getting the words out. His eyes flashed between the teleprompter, the crowd, and the gorgeous man standing up on the stage next to him. Peter watched him the entire time, his body swaying ever so slightly. If this was what intimacy felt like, Tony wanted so much more of it.

Peter took up the second verse seamlessly, his stage presence a lot different when the music overtook him, and his mouth started to move with the lyrics. His voice was a lot higher than Tony’s, the fit of it for the second part of the song absolutely perfect. Tony felt himself beaming, this performance so much different than the one he put out for the crowd to see on his own. It felt good playing off of someone else’s energy – especially someone as talented as Peter seemed to be.

At the end of the song, they ended up back to back, their voices mixing to bring the last couple of repeats to a close. The music ended and the crowd came alive with noise and applause – Tony could hear Rhodey’s voice over the mass of people, his whoops so recognizable. He felt his chest heaving – sweat collected across his forehead and soaked his shirt throughout the performance; but man was it worth it.

Turning, Tony caught his breath at the look on Peter’s face. Tony loved the limelight – it was hard to break from after being in it for so long. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate a job well done – the reaction of the crowd something that brought the happiest look Tony had seen yet to his face. This guy belonged on the stage.

Warm hands were on his shoulders as they made their way down the stairs and off the stage, the heat of them seeping down through his leather jacket to the exposed skin of his arms. Tony felt himself laugh, his heart was beating a mile a minute and he just had the best encounter of his life up on the place he felt the most comfortable. He never thought this kind of happiness existed.

“That was the most fun I’ve ever had on stage,” Tony admitted, his hand reaching up to tap one of Peter’s. If they were anywhere else, he probably would’ve pulled him into his arms, swung him around in an excited hug. Even still, the small touch was enough – Peter tightened his grip for a moment, then pulled away.

The other’s face was absolutely flushed – the wetness of sweat making the hair on the front of his forehead stick to the skin there. Tony’s fingers itched to reach up and push it back. He refrained, but only just barely.

“You’re something else, Tony. Any chance I could convince you to come play with me and my band? We need a new lead singer and you seem to be everything we’ve been looking for.” Peter quirked a brow at him, the smirk on his lips only adding to the sexiness of the look.

Tony stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes roaming over his handsome face to make sure there weren’t any signs of joking or fucking around with him. He seemed pretty genuine, though – the redness of his cheeks made it difficult to see anything other than adorableness. Biting down on his bottom lip to keep the huge smile from spreading over his cheeks like a cheap whore’s legs, Tony nodded – hell fucking yes he wanted to be in Peter’s band.

“If you’re not fucking with me, I’m absolutely game. 100% down to be in a band and do that more than just once a week,” Tony answered, his own face red from the eagerness that couldn’t be contained.

Peter’s response was a swift arm around his shoulder, the shorter guy’s frame pressing into the side of Tony’s chest so sweetly. Without a thought, Tony wrapped his arm around him, keeping the contact between them close.

“When do we start?”

----

Much to Tony’s delight, Peter introduced him to the band the very next day.

Ned, the drummer, was a bigger man with dark hair and a friendly look on his face – he shook Tony’s hand with a grin on his face. “Pete says you’re better than Steve – can’t wait to see what you bring to the table, my man.” He shot him a smile and stepped back, his hands already fiddling with the sticks that were just in his pocket.

The bassist, a beautiful girl with the craziest curly hair and dangerous smile was up next – she didn’t shake his hand, her arms stayed folded across her chest, the bass tucked safely against her. “Do you play anything? Or just look pretty and sing?” MJ, as Peter introduced her, asked him with the slightest hint of sass. She was the spunk of this group – Tony could already tell.

“I play the guitar – I have a Gibson Les Paul and a Fender Strat. I’ve been slamming since college.” Tony was quick to quote a couple of his stats; her eyes were boring into him and it felt a little scary. He felt more of a need to impress her than anyone else standing in the room.

She was quick on the kickback, the look on her face softening a bit. “Was that yesterday, then? You look younger than Petey over there, and he’s the baby.” MJ pointed over towards the guy standing on Tony’s right side. People always asked him that question, his young face still something that got him into trouble every now and again.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Tony shrugged – “I graduated from MIT when I was 16. So, 3 years ago now, actually.” The collective gasps made him laugh – his secret identity obviously didn’t get to stay secret for long.

“You’re that Tony?” Peter piped up first, his voice causing Tony to turn a little. Peter’s eyes roamed over him – the appraisal not any different than before, just a bit more hesitant. “Tony Stark, right? Wonder kid – tech genius. You’re in line for a billion-dollar business. What are you doing here, with us?”

Tony didn’t have to think hard to answer that question, there were many reasons, so goddamn many of them. “I love music. My father just assumed I’d dump myself into the business. I followed his rules, went to college, did the whole song and dance – but it didn’t make me happy. This does – music, performing, bringing beats and words to life. I’m here for me, I guess. Because this is what I want.”

There was a moment of silence where everyone looked around – Tony watched the other three share looks between them, that mode of silent communication only available to the people that wrote the language. All at once, they swooped in and wrapped him up in a weird group hug. “This is the misfit family club, you’re totally welcome here, Tony Stark.” MJ was the one to voice the group’s opinion.

With the awkward stuff out of the way, the group got themselves organized – Tony stood behind the microphone with his guitar strapped across his chest right across from Peter, the man behind a fancy looking keyboard and a mic. There wasn’t a set list in place, so Ned started to tap out the opening lines of Take On Me – the beat of it easy to remember. Taking a deep breath, Tony started to sing, his entire being knowing that this was probably his only shot to impress these people. Peter was only one part of the package – MJ and Ned needed to get on board with his talent, too.

They didn’t stop for a while, Ned led them into song after song, all of them covers – all of them sounding a bit better the more the group played together. Tony took it as a good sign, MJ didn’t stop them right off the bat and demand him to leave – in fact, she got so lost in the music, it was difficult to bring her back from wherever she went when they were done. In all his life, he never felt so carefree – so openly accepted by people that liked the same thing he did.

“So, that’s the best we’ve ever sounded,” Ned said a little while later, all four of them sprawled out on the floor from pure exhaustion. They played for more than two hours, Tony’s throat was raw, and his fingers hurt – but it was the best he’d ever felt. “Like – we might actually have a chance to do something at Battle of the Bands this year.”

Looking around, Tony’s face split into a huge smile. “You guys compete at Battle of the Bands?” Tony gapped at them, his only experience with the music competition was as a fan standing in the crowd, looking up at the stage dreamily. Never in a million years did Tony think he’d actually be up on that stage.

The look on his face must’ve been dreamy, because they were all laughing. His cheeks flashed red, the idea of playing on a major stage and being teased about his excitement combining to create the ultimate blush – it probably trailed all the way down his chest at this point. Peter reached out and grabbed his shoulder, the move seemingly customary after a couple days of it happening – the squeeze was nice, the small touch reassuring. “It’s one of the coolest things you’ll ever experience, Tony.”

Still grinning, Tony went about putting his guitar away, the rest of the group doing the same. It’d been more than 4 hours since he walked in the door. His stomach grumbled, the reminder of how long it’d been making his body remember the fact that it needed food, water – sustenance was necessary to continue to rock out this way.

When he turned around, everyone but Peter was gone, the other two slipping out seemingly without a peep. Tony wasn’t mad about that, though. Since meeting Peter the day before, Tony couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, a lot of that had to do with their performance and the way it made him feel – there’d been so much chemistry between them. The more secretive part of him understood that carnality also played a part. Peter was hot, could play music, and the more he got to know him, the better his personality seemed to be.

“Any interest in getting something to eat? I’m wiped and could use a burger, or something.” Tony posed the question casually, he didn’t want to put any undue pressure on the outing, or Peter in general. They were practical strangers, after all.

Peter smiled over at him – “I could eat. I’ll show you some of the songs we’ve been trying to put together for Battle of the Bands, too. Maybe you’ll have some ideas.” Peter shouldered the bag with his keyboard in it, his hand once again finding Tony’s shoulder. “There’s a decent greasy spoon a couple blocks from here.”

Tony didn’t need to be told twice. He touched the spot on his arm Peter did and followed him closely – all of the touching was getting to him. Peter’s touch felt like fire, the entirety of it consuming him, moving down his arms and core to settle low into the pit of his stomach. Being gay and not really able to act on it all that often, Tony recognized the fact that he was touch starved. Yet, no one else’s touch had ever really – drawn such a reaction.

Stopping in front of May’s, Tony took a look around the place. It was old fashioned, decked out in old Coca-Cola signs and pictures of the city over the years. They settled at the counter, where Tony noticed a picture of the man he was sitting next to on the wall. “Is that you?” Tony asked, his finger pointing at a much younger and toothless Peter.

Curious eyes watched Peter’s cheeks color, the other guy shaking his head with mirth. “Oh god. Yes. This is my aunt’s place. I’ve told her so many times to take that damn picture down,” Peter’s grumbles were adorable and seemingly half assed. He might not be that old, but he was old enough to pull a picture off the wall if it really bothered him that much.

“It’s adorable. How long were you missing your front teeth?” Tony chuckled when Peter’s hand flew out and smacked against his arm.

“Asshole. It was a really long time. That smile followed me around for at least another year or so.” Peter’s lips were pressed together, the man obviously trying not to smile. “Wait – you think it’s adorable?” He tilted his head at Tony, a new look in his eye.

Blushing himself, Tony nodded his head, eyes dropping for a second. Flirting out in the open was new for him, he didn’t spend a lot of time doing this – getting to know a person. There weren’t a lot of people that seemed worth his time, so he avoided the experience all together. Now, though, he wished for just a bit more experience, for the words that were right for a situation like this. “Yes – insanely so. Hasn’t changed much, either.”

Peter didn’t say anything to that – he simply scooted his chair a little closer and leaned into his space more than he already did. The entire left side of Tony’s body was tingly and numb, the foreign feeling enough to take the edge off the hunger, despite no food crossing his lips. Maybe the hunger resided elsewhere, maybe he wasn’t just hungry for food, anymore. Opening his eyes to actual happiness came with a lot of new things to consider.

The illustrious May came to take their order. She hilariously reached across the counter to pinch Peter’s cheeks, her red lipstick smile endearing – it reminded him of his mother before complacency in life started to set in. A swift pang of something hit Tony square in the chest – his eyes leaving the scene in a rush.

A surprise moan left Tony’s lips when he bit into his burger a few minutes later. Not only was May eternally out to embarrass Peter in front of any person that would watch, she could cook better than anyone Tony ever encountered – even the paid chefs his father brought in to make them fancy meals. His father would curse him dead if he ever uttered anything like that in his presence. Regardless, she was amazing, and he annihilated his food without really looking up until he was completely done.

“Your aunt can really cook, Pete. I’m surprised you’re not a giant balloon with food like that at your disposal whenever you want,” Tony remarked, his full belly allowing him to actually pay attention to the man sitting next to him now. Though, he never noticed a weirdness in the silence, a feat that was substantial considering how much he loathed the silence everywhere else. His house growing up was riddled with a pit of quiet – but he didn’t mind it with Peter, it was actually nice, comfortable.

Tossing the last couple of fries into his mouth, Peter nodded, his cheeks full enough to make him look like a chipmunk hoarding nuts. Tony watched with amusement as he struggled to eat all of the food in his mouth and then swallow it – the bulging of his cheeks not getting any better until all the food was down. “I’ll make sure to tell her. She’ll be excited that THE Tony Stark liked her food.” Peter shot him a wink, the joke in his voice evident. “Now that’s taken care of, do you want to look at the set list?”

A rush of excitement washed over him, Tony nodding his head eagerly. “Hell yes, I do.” Peter shook his head fondly and opened up one of the zippers on his keyboard case – he placed a red folder stuffed to the gills with sheet music in front of Tony. Looking at it wide eyed, Tony flipped it open and immediately felt overwhelmed. There were handwritten sheets of lyrics, scribbled notes about key and pitch – his brain in overdrive already.

“I didn’t even need to see your face to know that was going to be your reaction. We haven’t been able to come up with anything that comes together cohesively. It’s just a bunch of little pieces of songs that don’t fit. Ever do any music writing?” Peter asked hopefully.

Tony scrunched up his nose, shaking it vigorously. “I could write you any kind of system programming you want, I can read music, but I’ve never written lyrics.” He pulled out a few sheets and flipped through them. There were three song options in the nine pages he pulled out. Taking a deep breath, Tony thought for a moment. “Does it have to be an original song? Or could we come in there with a cover?”

Peter looked at him like he’d just solved world hunger, his eyes bulging almost comically – “Holy shit – why didn’t we ever think about that? The stuff we were putting down today sounded amazing. We’ve been dragging our toes on prepping something because there hasn’t been anything to prep.” His voice rose in pitch and volume the more he talked, his enthusiasm overtaking him. “Tony, you’re a genius,” he exclaimed, his arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulder. “An absolute genius.”

Preening at the words, Tony leaned into the touch – exhilaration overtaking most of the functioning of his brain. A throat clearing had them tearing apart – May was standing in front of them, her eyebrows raised. “Stop making a ruckus in here, Pete. Take your friend somewhere else if you’re gonna do that shit.” She took their plates away, her head shaking as she walked through the door to the kitchen.

“She’s right – we should get out of here.” Peter wasn’t quite meeting his eyes then, the embarrassment of being called out by his aunt tangible. Tony nudged him with his shoulder, a soft smile on his face.

“Okay – make sure you thank your aunt for the meal?” Tony got up from his chair as he spoke, the strap of his guitar case going over his shoulder once again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.” He gripped the back of the other man’s neck for a moment – Tony couldn’t stand not feeling Peter’s gorgeous locks under his fingers for another minute. Squeezing lightly in goodbye, Tony crossed the restaurant and left through the door.

----

The next couple of weeks were spent going through a long list of songs that everyone thought would work for the dynamic of the band – and then refining that list. They performed them all over and over again, MJ arguing that the only way to really choose was to see how they sounded and how versatile they could be. Doing a cover was a good idea, but they needed to figure out a way to make it their own.

On top of all the band practice and get togethers, Tony spent some of his free time with Peter. After the diner and the mutual understanding of each other they came to, it was pretty easy to get lost in the friendship they were creating.

There was attraction there – Tony couldn’t deny how much he wanted to simply touch Peter, how he wanted to grab the back of his neck and pull him close enough to kiss. It was undeniable. Yet, toeing around the subject and merely getting to know each other felt more natural. Tony hoped something more would come, he thought about it pretty constantly; there wasn’t any need to rush, though – their similar interests weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

About two weeks before Battle of the Bands, Nick the bartender/owner of Monteros’ got ahold of Tony, the man offering them one of the open mic spots that suddenly opened. Tony didn’t hesitate to say yes – they needed to get some stage time as a band before they hit the big one. It was one thing to practice in the space they did every day, but a whole other thing to actually be in front of a crowd and entertain for more than one song.

Relaying the news, the entire band went wild. Tony recognized the relief on everyone’s faces, the thought of getting a warmup gig under their belt as a band was reassuring – they could work out all the kinks of their performance, they could gage how well the crowd reacted and changes things up if need be. Their practice that afternoon was filled with passion and excitement – everyone hit their cues, the entire set they were planning to play sounded great.

Tony stuck around after they were done to help Peter pack up his keyboard – MJ and Ned fled the second they could, the two of them probably picking up on the unresolved sexual tension between Peter and himself. No one talked about it, not even them – but it was there, tangible in the way they looked at each other, in the way Tony seemed to know what Peter wanted or was thinking before the man himself did. He was waiting for MJ to yell at them to just fuck already – Tony couldn’t wait for that.

“So, are you stoked, or are you really fucking stoked?” Tony asked, breaking the silence in their rehearsal space. It always felt a little weird when they were done, the acoustics of the place seemingly sucking up all the sound they made during practice and pulling it into the void. The eeriness of the silence kind of reminding him of home.

Peter zipped up his case and turned towards him, a beaming smile on his face. “Really fucking stoked. I can’t believe Nick called us. I’ve been trying to get him to let us in on an open mic night for ages.” He slung the strap across his body and closed the gap between them. As was customary these days, Peter wrapped an arm around his shoulder, the man the ultimate tease with his soft touches and nonsexual intimacy.

“Rhodey was in there bragging about us last week – I bet that’s what swayed him. Nick is an old family friend of his,” Tony remarked, his own arm wrapping around Peter’s waist. “It’s a solid spot, there’s going to be a decent amount of people there. I’m so ready, Pete.” He squeezed the smaller man against him, fingers digging in slightly.

The other man stopped abruptly a second later, his shoes squeaked against the floor below them and Tony banged into his side. “Peter, what’s – “ was as far as Tony got before Peter turned slightly and pressed their lips together. It was electric – the satisfying feeling of finally settling deep within his gut. Tony adjusted enough to wrap his other arm around Peter, their chests making contact for the first time.

A subtle smack from the stem of his guitar against the back of his head had him pulling away, a gasp leaving his lips. He felt a little numb, his fingers and toes tingling obscenely – the core of the feeling pulsing his lips, the ones that finally got to be pressed against Peter’s. “Wow,” Tony mumbled, a hand moving to the back of his head to both soothe the ache and distract himself. The somewhat public space they were standing in was the last spot they wanted to get caught pressing each other up against the walls kissing frantically.

Peter’s dopey look had him pressing back in for another soft kiss – just to tide them over until they could do this properly, preferably somewhere less public. “Hold that thought,” Peter finally mumbled, his arms dropping down to his sides, feet carrying him a couple steps away from Tony. “I just couldn’t stand it anymore, y’know?” Peter asked the question with a laugh. “Of course, you know.”

Tony felt too breathless to answer, his entire body on fire from just those simple little touches. It scared him a little, just how much he felt in that moment. It was a craving – one so constant that the dam could potentially break at any time. He rifled his fingers through his hair, blinking rapidly for a moment. Peter drove him nuts and now that he knew the taste of him – he just might not survive.

By mutual agreement, they didn’t follow each other home like normal. Tony wanted time to process the new step they took – he needed to find a way to get himself under control before things ran away from him. He let his fingers brush across Peter’s cheek before they walked out of the building, the touch almost enough to spur him up again.

The walk helped to clear his head, his emotions in check now that he could think away from Peter. Getting to the point they were at seemed inevitable, yet it still shook him to the core. Someone wanted him, the Tony Stark that didn’t come with the glitz and glam, the one that just wanted to be who he was, not who people thought he should be. Giddiness slammed into him, the thought that someone finally saw him way more than enough.

He didn’t see Peter until the four of them got together a couple hours before the show at Monteros’ – Tony dug into the pizza they ordered to stave off pre-show hunger, his nervous eating something he thought he kicked a long time ago. His stomach felt funny, so he put food in it – anything else would have caused him more anxiety.

They kept their focus on the show the entire time, Tony determined to have his brain in it all the way. He planned to ask Peter back to his place after they were done, but that wasn’t here nor there in that moment – they had a show to play. Their last-minute preparations were quick and easy, the stage was already set up and ready for them to come out and hopefully blow the crowd away.

Nick announced them without much fanfare a little while later. Stepping out onto the stage, Tony was stoked to see Rhodey in their normal set of seats, he’d been on the phone with his best friend for a couple of hours the day before filling him in on the Peter situation and the insider details of what their set would entail.

Not wasting any time, Ned counted out the start of I Love Rock ‘N Roll – Tony and MJ hit the opening riffs perfectly. Sucking in a breath, Tony started to sing – “I saw him dancing there by the record machine.” He let his voice get a little gravely, his fingers moving over the frets as he belted out the first verse.

Tony dropped out at the chorus letting Peter and MJ take the harmonies through it, his mind preoccupied with the heavy guitar piece throughout. The sound of hands starting to clap through the next verse had Tony grinning, his energy increasing by the second. He almost wished he could drop the guitar and walk around the stage, work the crowd a little. It was alive, the thrum of enjoyment absolutely intoxicating.

A roar of applause sounded when they finished, the four of them clapping out the last note with the rest of the crowd. Taking a moment to soak it in, Tony turned to look over at Ned, his head nodding to start up the next song.

The click of his sticks brought Peter’s keyboard to life, the first few notes his and his alone. He counted out the beats after MJ joined in, his hands coming up to grip the microphone – “I feel the hunger, it’s a hunger – that tries to keep a man awake at night.” Flashing his eyes over to Peter, Tony quirked an eyebrow, the words coming out of his mouth never truer than in that moment.

The chorus of this song was always Tony’s favorite and their decision to bring Peter in on it as an echo made it hit a little harder – the high falsetto of his “be my little baby, oh, ho, oh” making the crowd roar. Grabbing the mic from the stand, he gripped some of the cord in his free hand to drag behind him, his guitar slung over his back. He took a few steps across the stage as he built up to the chorus.

Pressing himself against Peter’s side, Tony held the microphone between them, the chorus seeming to sound even better this time with both of their voices ringing so clearly in his own ears. He let a hand run down Peter’s thigh out of sight before walking back across the stage, stopping only when the tips of his feet were dangling off the edge of it. He leaned forward and delivered the last run into the climax of the song.

Tony couldn’t wipe the exhilarated look on his face, his cheeks burning from the smile, from having to aid in moving his mouth so much – simply from enjoying himself like never before. They finished the song off with the entire band coming in to hit the final line in a beautiful demonstration of organized chaos.

The next song was Tony’s favorite of the set. They spent a few days deciding whether they should replace the fiddles with a similar sound on the keyboard or rearrange it to include more guitar – in the end, they gave Tony the freedom to do whatever he wanted with the arrangement. During one of their late-night hangouts, Tony and Peter put together something special.

Tony started them off with the singular sound of the guitar, his fingers plucking over the strings in attempts to get a more wholesome tune, the pick he’d need later in the song between his lips. Ned came in with the bass drum and set the pace for MJ and Peter to slip in right before he started to sing – “Come on Eileen – “

Despite loving the initial entry into the song, Tony enjoyed the collective voice they put into the chorus. Most of the lines were call and response anyway – Tony dropping out every other line to magnify the sound of his guitar and the combined effect of Peter, MJ, and Ned echoing the lyrics back to him. He’d never felt the amount of energy from the rest of his friends on the stage before – they were fucking killing it and they all knew it.

Ending the song with his hand in the air, Tony finally let himself take a breath. His entire body was thrumming with a sort of energy he didn’t know existed – Tony had never felt like this before. He let the music die down completely before turning and looking at the rest of the people on stage with him – he was met with equals looks of joy and success. MJ looked serene, Ned sweaty and blissed out, and Peter – Peter looked equal parts hungry and over the moon. When their eyes locked, Tony felt the scorch of their gaze, the intensity of it off the charts.

In three songs, Tony managed to validate all of the things he’d been feeling about his step away from the Stark legacy. He worried and wondered for such a long time; it was insanely nice to finally feel at peace with his decision. The pumping of his heart felt so damn right – there wasn’t a single doubt in him any longer.

Nick came on the stage and called for another round of applause for them as they walked off. The second there was enough space, all four of them gathered together into one of their weird group hugs. Peter’s hand settled into the back pocket of Tony’s jeans, the touch adding to the tingly warmth that was already threatening to overwhelm him.

“That was amazing, right?” Peter asked. Everyone took a step back, the serenity of their group hug shifting to the room around them, instead. Tony’s face ached from the megawatt smile he could see replicated on all of the other’s faces. Amazing wasn’t the right word to describe that experience – it was world changing, Earth shifting kind of stuff.

“Hell yes – we’re going to kill it at Battle of the Bands. The changes we made to Come On Eileen made that whole set come together. Brilliant, guys – fucking brilliant,” MJ said in reply, her voice loud, the exhilaration apparent in the tone of it.

“The crowd loved it, too. They were into it from start to finish. What a rush,” Tony added, his cheeks tinging pink at the admission – he couldn’t help it, he felt good, free for the very first time in his life. He heard Peter chuckle and turned to look at him, a shy smile on his lips.

Peter didn’t look away like he expected him to. The hunger in his eyes seemed to pulse, the sight of it making his cock suddenly come to life. Obviously unwilling to wait any longer to touch him, Peter stepped into Tony’s space, an arm wrapping around his waist. Tony reciprocated, his fingers snaking across the back of Peter’s neck to wrap tightly around his shoulders.  

Ned and MJ were their friends and bandmates – it seemed pertinent to be able to feel comfortable around them. Society wasn’t on their side, but he hoped they might be.

Turning his head, Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s hair – it smelled like citrus, some sort of hair product, and sweat; the delicious musk of him tantalizing. Tony liked to function under the rule of actions speaking louder than words – his attempt at telling them loud, but not shouting it subtle enough.

MJ turned to Ned, her fist slamming into his upper arm with a solid thwack – “Cough it up. I told you.” Her painted lips were stretched into a shit eating grin. MJ was a breath of fresh air and the silent acceptance of that one statement meant so goddamn much.

“Want to come back to mine?” Tony whispered, his lips barely grazing Peter’s ear as he spoke. He felt Peter shudder, the movement pressing the other man’s shoulder into his side more fully.

Instead of answering, Peter looked over at Ned and MJ, a smile slipping across his lips. “You two can take care of my keyboard, right?” His eyes flashed with amusement at the question, Tony noticing a deep flush coursing across his cheeks and down his neck. If all things went to plan, Tony would get to see where that blush stopped and what exactly it led to.

“Yes, go. The tension you guys let fester over the past few weeks is disgusting. I’ll stop by May’s tomorrow and get your keys to you.” She stopped, then looked back at them with a saucy smirk. “Protect yourself, boys.”

----

Throughout the walk, Tony figured things would cool down between them – they needed to focus on the steps in front of them, not each other. Yet, Tony struggled to keep his hands to himself. The overall aura radiating from Peter was so bright, like light directly from the sun – the nights activities and anticipation for more looked amazing on him. Tony wanted to grasp the brightness and keep some for himself.

It seemed to take forever to get to his place, despite it being only a few blocks away from the bar. Getting to his building, Tony practically pushed Peter up the stairs. He struggled with the lock for a couple of seconds before getting the damn thing open with a sigh of relief. All bets were off when the door closed behind them.

Tony pressed Peter against the door, his hands settling on the other man’s hips in a tight grip. Using it to his advantage, he pressed Peter more firmly into the wood and rested his own hips against him. A moan left his lips at the evidence of Peter’s arousal, the bulge in his jeans more than obvious now that Tony was pressed so tightly against him. Rolling his hips, Tony thrust against him until they were lined up, cock to cock.

Peter’s head knocked back against the door, the solid thud of it making Tony look up. Normally bright brown eyes were covered by soft looking eyelids framed in gorgeously long eyelashes. The squint was back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a tight pinch between his brows one of the man’s natural reactions. His mouth was wide open, little hums and gasps falling from his lips.

While he still had a bit of sense left in him, Tony pulled back a little, the hands still on Peter’s hips guiding him, pulling him forward until they were walking down the hall. Tony could find anything in his place with his eyes closed, so the backwards position wasn’t an issue for him. The backs of his legs hit the mattress when they finally made it into the bedroom. Tony sat down on the edge of it, his hands still tugging Peter along,

The man didn’t hesitate to straddle his lap, a long sigh leaving both their lips when their cocks were lined up again – the pressure of his jeans made him want to tear off all their clothes, but the deliciousness of Peter’s hard warmth against him was too hard to pull away from just yet. Peter leaned down to kiss him again, his hands greedily running down the sides of Tony’s flanks until fingers were toying with the plain red shirt he’d been wearing up on stage. Wanting to help, Tony lifted his hands so Peter could pull the shirt over his head.

Fabric hitting the floor spurred Tony on just the same, his hands not nearly as smooth in their removal of the short sleeve button up Peter looked so damn good in. He let a huff of success leave his lips when he got the shirt down the other’s arms, his wrist flicking it across the room. With so much skin on display, Tony found himself in stimulus overload. He wanted to nip, kiss, and touch every single inch of him – Peter’s skin was smooth and pale, a couple of freckles and moles littering his torso and upper shoulders. Tony ached for it all.

“Hold on,” Tony mumbled against Peter’s lips, his hands gripping under Peter’s thighs. He stood up and flipped their positions, Tony doing his best to put Peter down on the bed gently. Peter’s pearly white skin was a perfect contrast to the black sheets on the bed – the man a spark amongst the darkness.

Eager fingers moved to the button of Peter’s jeans – he worked to get them open, unzipped, and down his thighs in no time at all. It took a bit of fumbling to get his shoes and socks off without making it awkward, but Peter was in just his black briefs in no time. With a quick kiss to Peter’s lips, Tony pulled away, getting up from the bed – he needed to get his pants off that very instant, or he might actually explode.

Peter shifted his position on the mattress, the man coming to his knees and meeting Tony at the edge of the bed. A sigh of relief fell from his lips when the metal of his zipper was no longer digging into his sensitive flesh. Kicking everything to the side, Tony stood in front of him completely naked – his cock sticking straight out in a delicate salute to one Peter Parker.

Before he knew it, Peter’s lips were around his cock – the other man didn’t waste a second of time, his greedy hands palmed Tony’s ass cheeks and pulled him closer; his cock slipping even further into the tight heat of his mouth. Tony let his hands drift into Peter’s hair, his head dropping back, the tension of his neck the only thing keeping it on his shoulders still.

Despite knowing he liked men since an early age, Tony wasn’t exposed to very many options to find partners similarly inclined. His experience wasn’t vast – even still, he knew Peter was good at what he was doing; Tony’s brains were oh so delicately being sucked from his cock little by little. Finding that he couldn’t keep his hips still anymore, Tony loosened is grip, forcing himself to look down. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that. I want the first time to be inside of you,” Tony mumbled hoarsely, his arousal coloring his voice drastically.

The licks and sucks didn’t end right away, Peter bobbed his head a couple more times before pulling away, spit on his chin and a mischievous grin on his face. “I needed to taste you,” he said simply, his body already shifting away from Tony and further onto the mattress. He shimmied out of the briefs and threw them over the side of the bed. Tony watched him settle in the middle of the mattress on his hands and knees, his head turned looking at Tony over his shoulder. “This okay?”

“More than,” Tony babbled, his body moving on autopilot to the perfectly Tony sized space between Peter’s legs. He gripped both of cheeks in his hands and parted them, his tongue slipping out to drag across his perineum. He traced up the path and settled at Pete’s puckered hole, the tip of his tongue darting against the tension without any warning.

“Fuck, Tony – warn a guy,” Peter rumbled, a chuckle lacing his words. He pressed his hips back against Tony’s face, the action totally contradictory to his words.

Pressing against the rim again, Tony felt Peter relax around him, his tongue slipping in only for Tony to pull it back and thrust forward quickly again. The small ‘ahs’ he was getting from Peter spurred him on. He took long licks around the rim, the spit of it all collecting in his goatee and dripping down to the sheets below him.

He would’ve kept going, but Peter turned and tried to paw at him, his fingers gripping whatever they could of Tony’s arm. “I need you to fuck me, Tony.” Who was he to not stop what he was doing and get down to business? Nodding, he pulled back with another long lick from his crack down to his balls – a moan sliding from his own throat as he did.

Tony forced himself to reach over and open the bedside drawer. In anticipation of tonight, he brought a brand-new box of condoms and bottle of lube. Grabbing them, he tossed the condom onto the bed next to Peter’s hip and tore at the wrapping around the top of the bottle with his teeth. He let a sigh drip from his lips when he got it open.

Flipping the cap, Tony squirted a good amount of the lube on two of his fingers and let it heat up there. “Might be cold,” Tony whispered, both fingers pressing against Peter’s rim. There wasn’t much resistance when he pushed inside, his tongue doing a good job relaxing him. He thrust a few times, fingertips seeking out that special spot and finally hitting it.

“Do that again!” Peter exclaimed, his hips shoving back in an attempt to get Tony’s fingers deeper. Complying without question, Tony reached until his fingers were pressing against Peter’s prostate with every thrust. The walls around his digits were quaking, Peter rhythmically clenching around him. Tony couldn’t wait to feel that around his cock, the hardness straining between his legs sluggishly dripping precum from the tip.

Peter reached behind himself again, his hand patting the mattress until he found the condom. “Put this on. I need you.” His voice was dripping with need, the man’s hips thrusting forward into the mattress on their own accord. Peter was strung out, the sight enough to be any man’s downfall. Tony’s head swam for a second, his arousal finally catching up to him.

He bit into the side of the package and tore it open, his fingers working quickly to get the condom down his length – he had to clench the base of his cock a couple of times to stop himself from coming; it was all too much.

A lubed-up hand circled Peter’s hole a couple of times, then smeared the rest down his length – Tony gripping himself hard as he lined up and pressed forward. The initial push was like glorious torture – “Push back against me, you’re so tight, Pete,” Tony babbled, his cock encased in the most enticing heat he’d ever experienced. The orgasm he’d been trying to stave off the entire time was quickly approaching.

Finally bottoming out, Tony gave himself a moment to calm down. His skin was riddled with goosebumps and completely sweat soaked. He marveled at the same sheen he could see on Peter’s skin. He reached around until his hand was closing over Peter’s erection, the other man considerable in size and girth – his cock surprisingly rock hard despite the pain he probably felt upon first intrusion. Tony let his hips roll forward and the cock in his hand jump – the throb there so apparent against his palm.

To impatient to give either of them anymore time, Tony started to thrust. He drew his hips back until only the tip was resting inside, his balls already scrunched up and tight against his skin. Letting his hips roll, Tony pushed back in nice and slow. Peter took every inch, his body moving in time with Tony’s. After a few minutes, they found a good rhythm – Tony sat back up and clenched slim hips in his hands, picking up the pace.

It felt like hours, the push and pull of their coupling. Peter panted out Tony’s name over and over again – his voice rough, sounding a little more shattered each time. Tony did his best to keep things tame, but finally hit a melting point – his body ached, the need for release getting to the almost painful point. “I’m so close, Pete.”

“Me too. Touch me, touch me – please,” Peter babbled in response, his hips pressing back into Tony ruthlessly, the pace all sorts of fucked up now. Reaching around again, Tony wrapped his hand around Peter’s dick, his hips picking up speed enough to where the other man’s cock slipped through his grip with every thrust.

He felt the sticky wetness on his fingers and absolutely lost it. “Ah, Pete!” he just about screamed, his orgasm hitting him like a truck going full speed. Tony had just enough left in him to pull out and sink to the mattress with only half of his body on top of Peter’s.

They laid in their mess for a few minutes, Tony doing his best to blink away the dark spots and haze. He watched Peter’s breathing even out, the man’s chest heaving a little less with each draw of breath. The sweat on his skin was what brought him completely out of the post-orgasm goodness, his skin once again breaking out in goosebumps.

“Want to take a shower?” Tony questioned, his lips pressing to the back of Peter’s neck. He sat up and pulled the condom off, tying it and sending it into the wastebasket by the side of the bed with a thunk. He ran a hand up Peter’s hip just because he could – the concept one he would have no problems getting used to.

Peter reached back and pulled him into a kiss, a grin on his lips. “Sounds good, baby.”

----

Two weeks later, they were gathered in their rehearsal space, prepping one last time for Battle of the Bands the next day. After getting some feedback from friends and randos in the audience, the group decided to add a fourth song – they were given twenty minutes to perform and could get all of them in if they were efficient about their time.

Since the night of their show, Peter and Tony were pretty much inseparable – they practiced together daily, ate at May’s, hung out with MJ, Ned, and Rhodey; and had lots of sex. It was a good kind of weird, having someone to touch and kiss – Peter loved to be near him and always wanted to be against him in some fashion. Bonding the way they were helped their chemistry on stage, too. They were on fire – the translation of that in their performance coming out in the shape of wild energy and passion.

Wrapping up, MJ posed the question they’d been avoiding this entire time. “What do we call ourselves? We’ve been playing together all this time and never thought to come up with a name.” She looked at each of them, her eyes searching for some sort of clue.

“3 dudes and a lady?” Ned threw out, his shoulders shrugging. MJ’s eyebrows pinched together, the obvious distaste for that one written all over her face. Ned shrugged again – “At least I tried.”

Tony looked over at Peter, his brain going back to all of the adventures they had walking through this very neighborhood. When there wasn’t much to do, they picked a street and wandered until they found something or ended up back home. A grin slipped across his cheeks, an idea coming to him. “Why don’t we call ourselves The Neighborhood Friendlies?”

There was a beat of silence before MJ broke into a grin of her own – “Tony Stark, you’re a genius.”

Hearing that name announced the never next day made Tony’s heart want to beat straight out of his chest. They walked out onto a stage that was twice as big as Monteros’ and brightly lit. Tony squinted, his pulse thrumming in his ears. It took him a second to adjust and then another second to recognize Peter’s hand on his arm, the fingers there squeezing reassuringly. “Let’s rock it, baby,” Peter mouthed, his right eye winking saucily.

With a click, the performance clock started, the stagehand off to the side holding up her thumb as a sign to get started. “Hey, everyone. We’re The Neighborhood Friendlies!” Tony spoke into the mic, his voice much steadier than he figured it would be. Turning, he nodded at Ned – the man grinned and bringing his sticks up, clicked out the starting tempo.

Their first three songs went great, their dynamic got better the longer they were up there – the crowd played into it, chanting and cheering – the sound of it enough to keep Tony focused, his nerves in check, but just barely. Looking over at Peter, he returned the wink from earlier and started in on their final song – “Calling out around the world, are you ready for a brand new beat?”

He swung his guitar around his back and grabbed the mic from the stand meeting Peter in the middle of the stage. Dancing in the Street called for both of them to sing the entire time, the matching pitches of their voices sounding better than Bowie and Jagger. To top it all off, they kicked around the stage, getting themselves purposely tangled in the mic wires, only to finish perfectly free on opposite sides of the stage from each other. Leaning into his shoulder, Tony pressed his face into the sweat soaked shirt and let out a huge breath. No matter what, they’d just given and left their all out on the stage.

The four of them tried to watch the rest of the bands from the back of the stage but couldn’t focus a single bit – Tony was still thrumming with excess energy and excitement from their amazing performance. After that initial jolt of nerves, Tony forgot all about the big crowd and the potential prize and just cut loose – his performance all the better for it. He and Peter were covertly holding hands, MJ and Ned flanking them to be close and act as cover all at once.

As the last band performing left the stage, Tony felt himself starting to get a little nervous again. If they took this thing, they could easily find themselves on track for a record deal – the money they brought home from this would give them more than enough wiggle room to record, maybe even find a lyricist that could help them put together original songs for them to debut. His fingers gripped Peter’s tightly; the other man just as nervous if the sweat against his palm had anything to say about it.

It almost didn’t register – when their name was announced. Tony and Peter looked at each other, then turned to look at MJ and Ned – all four of them completely dumbfounded. “I think that’s us,” Ned finally said, a huge grin breaking out across his face.

“Holy shit, that’s us!” Peter yelled, his hand gripping Tony’s so tightly he thought for a moment that he might’ve broken a bone. The other man leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek – “We fucking won!”

----

The next time Tony saw his father, they were finishing up their first tour in beautiful New York City – the band practically demanded it when they found out they’d be leaving the city for six months. It was a hell of a ride, traveling the states in a bus, getting to play for thousands of people on a nightly basis. Tony learned so much about music and singing, about himself and the things he wanted and could do, and about love and the way he could so selflessly give it to someone else.

When Peter looked at him on the stage, it felt like the first time every time. They were so much more now, together and apart – Tony figured things would always feel old as dirt and brand new all at the same time with Peter. That had to be what forever felt like.

So, seeing Howard standing there in the VIP line, Tony was pleasantly surprised. 18 months ago, he still would have tried to flee or angrily push him away. Now, he merely smiled at him, his dark tinted glasses hiding the hope that he couldn’t ever stop from coursing through him whenever his dad was around. “Dad, here for a picture with the band?” Tony asked, stepping up to the rope himself instead of letting the attendant walk him back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once they were away from the rest of the line. He wanted to trust that his dad wanted to be there to support him, but that hadn’t ever been the case before. It felt like a longshot that something like that would change so easily.

“I had to see for myself. How good you were doing. Your mom plays your stuff in the house all the time. I just – needed to see you.”

Tony’s stomach clenched; he’d been waiting to hear that from his dad for his entire life. Without thinking, he threw his arms around him – “Thanks for coming.” He mumbled the words into the jacket of his suit, then pulled away. The current technology made getting pictures of him a lot easier these days.

“Well, come on, then. I’ve got some people I want you to meet.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #musician peter parker #musician tony stark #au prompts #au #starkerfestivalsevents #pop star au #bobbie writes

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

I Met A Boy

Based on I Met A Girl from Bells Are Ringing

Read on ao3

Summary: Roman’s met a boy. A wonderful boy. A most fabulous boy! Logan just wants him to shut up and let him work.

Warnings: Author was a tired mess when they wrote this, they also edited while a tired mess, no looking it over now that I’ve rested because we die like men

Pairings: Royality, Analogical

    “Oh, Loooooooooo-gannnnnnnnnn!”

    “I will pay you every cent in my bank account if you cease your thought process before it becomes verbal.”

   Roman flopped onto his roommate’s bed, ignoring Logan’s cry of annoyance as his laptop jumped up in his lap and his sheets were crumpled. “I know you’re broke, Lo- your bribery won’t work on me.”

    “It was worth a try.” Logan responded, going back to his typing as soon as he had gotten his laptop back in place. “I have too much work to do to deal with whatever problem you have imagined up for yourself today.”

    “Ah, but today the problem is the opposite of a problem!” Roman exclaimed, ignoring Logan’s bewildered stare. “Oh, Logan, I met a girl! A wonderful girl!”

    Logan blinked at him. “Roman… you’re gay.”

    “Logan, I’m allowed to simply sing the praises of women, am I not?”

    “Not in that voice.” Logan responded. “You have a certain tone when you are referring to your romantic interest of the week.”

    “I do not!”

    Logan glanced at Roman before resuming his typing at a quicker speed. Before Roman could ask what he was doing, Logan was turning the computer towards him, two sound waves lined out on the screen.

    “This is your voice when you are simply praising something.” Logan clicked the top sound wave, a brief audio bit of Roman explaining why theater was so amazing playing. “This is your voice when describing the object of your affections.” The second sound wave played, this time one of Roman waxing poetic for his crush of one month ago.

    “When did you record these-”

    “Analyzing the wave frequencies, the differences in pitch, and how your general tone wavers throughout the sentence, it is easy to discern the difference between your appreciative rants and your more passionate ones.” Logan finished, a small smug smile on his face.

    Roman considered the information for a moment before asking, “How long did you spend on this?”

    “Three hours.” Logan replied with a shrug. “I finished my finals’ paper for astrophysics, I have time.”

    “The finals aren’t for another three months!” Roman exclaimed before shaking his head. “Wait, no, nevermind. I’m about to break rule number one: never question the nerd. And I think you may just be trying to get me distracted from my most divinely important story!”

    Logan frowned and turned back to his laptop. “I may have been.”

    Roman grabbed Logan’s laptop and threw it over to his side of the room, it landing on Roman’s messy bed with a soft thunk while Logan glared at him. “You’re not paying enough attention to meeeeee.”

    “You are incredibly childish.”

    “One of my charms.” Roman said with a grin. “Now, because you are too much of a know-it-all for your own good, you spoiled my entire plan, and your punishment is giving your undivided attention to I!”

    Logan sighed before leaning against the wall. “What plan would that be?”

    “To pretend I was simply singing the praises of a girl so you wouldn’t mock me for having another crush.”

    “I firmly believe you’ve had one on almost every boy at the school at this point.”

    “It’s not my fault I’m so devilishly handsome and hopelessly romantic!”

    “What does being ‘devilishly handsome’ have to do with you having crushes?”

    Roman smirked at Logan and winked. “It just needs to be said every once in a while. Otherwise you might go and forget how utterly magnificent your roommate is!”

    “If you are not quickly reaching a point, Roman, I really must return to my work.”

    “You’re no fun.” Roman pouted before continuing, “But if I must move on from describing myself, then so we shall go on to describe the shooting star of beauty that is Patton dearest!”

    “I find it doubtful his last name is actually dearest.”

    “Shh. My story. And Patton, oh, if his last name isn’t dearest than the universe has made a grievous error- he’s a fabulous creature, Lo, made of stardust and wonderful dreams, and of that I haven’t a doubt in my mind.”

    “Humans can’t be made of wonderful dreams.”

    “Than perhaps he is not human at all, but instead an angel, fallen from the Heavens!” Roman suggested, sitting up on the bed at this, looking towards the ceiling before he placed his hands over his heart, sinking back down onto the mattress as he added, “Though that hardly seems right, given that I am the one who has fallen- fallen for him.”

    “I feel you may be getting overly excited.” Logan said, watching his roommate stare star-struck into the space before him. “Is Patton not just another boy in your seemingly endless line of crushes?”

    “I suppose… suppose you might say that.” Roman replied. “You’ve not seen him. To your ignorant mind, he might be just ordinary, just another boy. But Patton, Patton’s a special boy, Logan. He’s not like the others.”

    Logan rolled his eyes. “So you’ve said many, many times before. I just fail to see what truly makes him different.”

    “In theory, nothing.” Roman responded, sitting up on his knees so he could reach towards Logan, tracing his fingers over his face as he said, “He’s got two eyes, two lips, a nose, and a pair of ears, just like anyone else.”

    Logan swatted his hands away. “I don’t feel you needed a prop to explain that concept.”

    Roman shrugged as he pulled back. “It’s much more fun. But as I was saying- he may be normal to you, to a million people, but to me?” Roman slid off the bed, spinning around the room as he said, “I see the most enchanting face that’s ever been, features arranged just so. My pulse races when I realize I’m met such a marvelous boy!”

    “You’re being overly-dramatic again.” Logan commented as he watched Roman spin about.

    “Excellent!” Roman yelled as he ran into his bed, falling backwards onto it, clothing flying out of their messy piles on the bed from the impact and Logan’s laptop sliding to the side. “Being just plain dramatic wouldn’t come close to properly describing how he makes me feel! Oh, Logan, Patton’s rarer than- than-”

    “Uranium?” Logan supplied.

    “Rarer than uranium! Fairer than pearl! Clearer than diamond! Richer than gold! Not a thing in this earth could compare to him!”

    Logan groaned. “Could you at least sing his praises a touch quieter? The RA will have our heads if you don’t.”

    “But I can’t quiet down, Logan!” Roman replied, bouncing up so he was standing on his bed. “I’ve found me a treasure of a man, and I want to shout it to the whole wide world!”

    “Roman-”

    Their door slammed open a moment later, their RA glowering in the doorway. “It’s two hours before lights out, will you two-” Virgil stopped when he saw the scene. “What is- what is even going on?!”

    Roman leapt off the bed, grabbing Virgil’s arms and pulling him around in a twirl. “I’m excited, nightmare on dorm street, and you know why?!”

    “I don’t want to know.” Virgil responded, struggling in Roman’s hold, unable to free himself.

    “I’m in love! I fell in love today, with the most wonderfully magnificent, perfectly perfect, heavenly view of a man!” Roman extolled, letting Virgil go, only for the RA to tumble onto Logan’s bed.

    Logan glanced over at him as Roman continued to twirl himself around the room. “I apologize for this.”

    “Nah, it’s no problem.” Virgil responded, moving so he was properly sitting on the bed, scooting closer to Logan as he did so. “Well, the noise certainly is, but I’m sure he’ll tire himself out soon enough.”

    Logan chuckled. “I’m quite sure he will.”

    “I’m a little surprised you’re still putting up with it.”

    Logan nodded at his laptop across the room. “He confiscated my laptop, and with it, he took my ability to get any work done. I also know from good experience attempting to escape Roman when he’s in a ranting mood will only result in being picked up and flung back here by him. It is not an experience I need to repeat for a fifth time.”

    “A fifth time?”

    Logan looked away, slightly embarrassed. “One of those attempts was made while… slightly inebriated. The other four were made out of sheer desperation.”

    Virgil laughed. “If Roman was my roommate, I’d be attempting escapes out of desperation every day.” Virgil immediately turned to look at Roman, expecting him to protest about who would want to escape his incredible presence. When he didn’t, Virgil shook his head. “He’s really far gone, isn’t he?”

    “Apparently so.” Logan agreed, watching Roman run into a wall and simply spin away from it without a single pause, adjectives Logan was quite sure were made-up spilling from his lips all the while. He sighed. “Love truly makes one a fool.”

    “Guess that’s why I’m so stupid.” Virgil said, getting a confused stare from Logan before Virgil shifted, moving so that he was flopped against Logan’s chest. He looked up at the now blushing college student, smirking. “I figured I’d give you ‘til finals were over to join me in the cave of fools, but the moment so readily presented itself, well, I just had to.”

    Two minutes passed with Logan not responding, and Virgil was starting to wonder if it was possible to break a human so bad they never blinked again, when Logan gently slid Virgil off of him, stood up almost stiffly, and then bolted out of the dorm.

    Virgil sighed as he stood up. Figures he’d fall in love with a track star.

    “Does he always try and run from his problems?” Virgil asked Roman, not too surprised when the other didn’t answer. Sighing again, Virgil started his own run across campus. Safe bet to think the smartest kid in the dorms would head for the library, right?

    Roman didn’t even notice when he was left alone in the room, continuing his senseless dance, singing his own senseless song,

    “Oh, yes, that’s what I’m so excited about

    A boy, a boy!

    Such a wonderful boy.

    I met a boy today!

    And I fell in love today!

    I met a boy today!”

#ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton mentioned #analogical #royality #I met a girl #ts sides #sander sides #fanfic #fanfiction