#and comparing it to call me by your name... cindy when I get my hands on uuuu

[fightclub1996]

watched readwithcindys recent video and normally I can enjoy her videos as entertainment without having to agree with her but the way she talked abt Giovannis Room pissed me off sm I had to turn off the video...

[cocobutnochanel]

The Kims | 18+

Genre: smut, angst, romance, au, drama

Main Characters: Kim Minseok, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongdae x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: swearing, sex scenes, slavery(not literally iguess), mentions of death, mentions of abuse, abandonment

Summary: When you thought life wasn't a fairytale and you were no Cinderella, truth slaps you in the face when you become an orphan overnight and your step-family sells you off to the richest family in town.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Part 1

(Part 2, Part 3)

‘Live, baby. Live your life to the fullest.’

You can still hear your eomma's last words to you before she passed away. It kept replaying in your head ever since she was announced dead.

She was the only family member left. You were an only child whose father was also dead. Life may have not been in your favor exactly but you came from a rich family. At least, that made up for it.

You feel hot tears run down your face when you see your mother's face inside a coffin. Sadness, anger and longing wash over you. You knew your mother's health was getting bad but you weren't expecting her to leave you just like that.

"Y/N! Get your stuff sorted!" You hear your stepbrother, Oh Sehun, scream from the second floor of your house. You were suspicious as to why he was in your room and touching your things but you shrugged it off. Your stepfather would kill you if you said something bad about his sons.

You ignored the the strangeness of the situation and immediately climbed upstairs. "Coming!" You called, wiping your tears away. You hear Chanyeol, your other stepbrother, chuckle at the sight of you crying. You just sigh and make your way to Sehun who wouldn't stop shouting your name now.

You knew it was strange that he was in your room but what surprised you was him stuffing your things inside a suitcase.

"Oppa! What are you doing?" You exclaimed, running to your room that became a mess after what he did. Your hands were trembling as your eyes scanned your things that were half-ruined now because of your stepbrother. You quickly get on your knees to see your belongings now scattered on the floor.

You look up to him, looking for some sort of explanation but his eyes were dead and he refused to say anything. God, this frustrated you so much. 

You feel another presence in the room so you whip your head around and see Chanyeol leaning on the doorframe. "Appa's getting rid of you finally." His icy deep voice was enough to scare you, the idea of moving out made you want to faint.

You tried to control your breathing as you see Chanyeol smiling at your state. "Please don't." You begged shamelessly and that earned another chuckle from Chanyeol. You bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood in your mouth.

Moving out? Getting rid? The hot tears you wiped off your face earlier came back in a split second. The Ohs weren't exactly nice to you but they were all you had after your mother passed away. No relatives, no family friends, no anything. This house was the only roof you could go under. Fuck, the world outside was meaner than the Ohs could ever be. It terrified you beyond belief.

"I'm sorry." An emotionless apology from Sehun didn't make it any better. You spent almost eight years with them ever since your eomma married your stepfather when you were barely eleven. "Appa was struggling with the funds when your mom was sick. He had no choice but to borrow money and now, he couldn't return it. The only way to pay it was to send you there." Your eyes widen at his reason. It was absolute bullshit.

"B-But my trust fund! It could pay the debt, right? Shouldn’t we call the family lawyer first?" You try to find another reason to stay but Chanyeol cut your thoughts off with his voice. "Pack it up, Cinderella, you don't have all day." With that, he walked out of the room. 

With slumped shoulders, you fall to the floor. You were defeated in all aspects. You lost your mother and now, you had to lose your home and only family too.

"I don't understand it at all. I had a trust fund. That would be enough to pay off eomma's hospital bills." You whispered as your heart ached. You tried to look at Sehun again but his eyes were emotionless. You knew he was the kinder brother to you despite being whiney but what you couldn't believe was him lying to you right now. Your trust fund was more than enough. Also, your mother’s company wasn’t going bankrupt for your family to reach this measure.

"You really need to pack up, Y/N. Appa would be fuming if he went home and you're still here.." Sehun said, pushing your suitcase nearer to you. It might hurt that these people you consider family are sending you to some stranger they borrowed money from but Sehun made a point. "You know it'd be bad to anger Appa." He retaliated.

That woke you up. Your stepfather may have not laid a finger on you before but he spat so many hurtful words. He had the shortest temper and you weren't sure that he wouldn't hurt you physically now that your mother was dead. 

With his anger management issues and hugeass body, he could kill you with his bare hands. That urged you to stand and start stuffing your suitcase with as much clothes as you could.

Your tears eventually dried and Sehun left your room. Your knees and hands were trembling like they were earlier but that didn't stop you from packing your things. The imagery of your angry stepfather's huge figure made you go on. It was fear that made you want to live even if your whole life was as trashy as it was already. After all, this was all your mother wanted before she died. For you to live.

After putting all the stuff you needed inside your bags, you quickly scurry off to the entrance of your house. You had no idea where you would be going but staying in this house also meant you'd die. You had to try your chances that the people your stepfather is indebted to is somehow less cruel and would not kill me. Wherever it was, you tried to assure yourself it'd be better than staying here.

"Hey, Cindy! A carriage is waiting outside for you." You hated the new nickname Chanyeol gave you but you knew you'd never see him again in your life. You guessed. These people would never let you go without paying the debt and you know your stepfather would never do that. That thought dismissed all the anger in your head for him.

You drag your luggage outside and see a black car. This must be the carriage Chanyeol was referring to. It looked very expensive and it was also heavily tinted. Whoever your stepfather was indebted to, they were filthy rich.

You hesitated as it approached you. Was this right? Your mother's dead body was lying in your living room right now. You should be weeping instead of running away. You haven't even had the chance to grieve yet here you are, being kicked out of the house you grew up in. The house you made memories with. The only home that you ever knew.

The hesitations quickly evaporated as you heard your stepfather's Range Rover approaching. You knew that engine sound all too well. You have hurried off to your room a lot when you were younger whenever you got in trouble with your stepdad. So instinctively, you ran to the black car's door, never looking back at the home you once had.

Your hands stopped shaking and you finally started to breathe properly as the black car pulled out of your home's driveway. Your stepfather’s Range Rover was already out of earshot and you knew you were safe. For now.

Doubts and overthinking clouded your mind. You wanted to be afraid and scared at what might await me. But also, you couldn’t go back home. Your head hurt after so much thinking, you dozed off inside the car as the worries now left your troubled mind.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, pulling you to consciousness. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you try to sit up properly. "We're here.." You heard the driver say. He was a white-haired guy my age. He also gave me a smile and tried to help me up.

"Where are we, sir?" Your voice was hoarse and the car door flew open beside you. It revealed a grand mansion in front of you and it earned a gasp from you.

You see a man walking by the entrance of the huge manor. His tall stature demanded attention and you automatically assumed he was the owner. With that classy tuxedo and refined posture, you knew nothing about him was cheap.

He suddenly turned around and your eyes widened at that. As if his money wasn't enough to make him intimidating, he had a perfect face. It may have a permanent scowl but you couldn't deny his face was truly perfect. Tanned complexion, defined jaw, plump lips and thick eyebrows. He was definitely handsome.

"Who are you to look at me straight in the eye?" His voice was deep and authoritative and loud enough to snap you out of your thoughts, it surprised you. His scowl even grew which made you bow your head and quickly apologize. "I'm sorry." You mumbled, the fear of death immediately taking over your senses. 

"Be nicer." Another voice interrupted that made you look up. A man with a child on his arm went out of the house, standing by the door. He wore a similar suit to the man who was scowling. Another handsome man, you thought. He looked older but no less handsome. He also looked friendlier as a little girl bounced in his arms.

This man was definitely kinder, you could safely assume. His eyes were soft despite his features being sharp and his thin lips had a pressed smile.

The scowling man passed by him and went inside the huge house. You could only look at his leaving back, hoping you didn't piss him enough to get yourself killed. You couldn't possibly die the first day you're here.

"Hey, get inside. I'm sorry for that. My brother's just wired that way." He offered a smile as the little girl in his arms looked at him adoringly. You nodded at what he said, trying to take in the information. His kind smile was nothing compared to the previous man’s scowl. Their air was too different. "Let her inside, Baek. We’ll be at the study." He nodded at the driver before going back inside his room.

The driver who was named Baek started carrying my bags. "No, it's okay." You try to take it away from him but he insists. He carried your luggage inside the house to the large living room. 

The house was so large, it was nothing compared to your home before. Marble walls made everything stand out in elegance as the paintings that graced it made it warmer to the eyes. The furniture was obviously expensive despite its basic structures. The grand staircase that led to another floor also made it seem like it’s a palace.

Baek snapped you out of your awe by entering with your bags. He set it down by a sofa. "I'm Baekhyun and I'm the errand boy here." He gave you a toothy grin which made you smile back at him. "It's hard to find a friend here but I assure you, I can be your friend." You nodded like a seal at what he said. You knew you needed help and an offer like this isn't something you can pass up.

"I'll find time to talk to you and all but the bosses need you at the study right now. They'll decide whether what to use you for." You look at him in confusion. He immediately gets the message and tries to clear up the confusion. "Your family is in a debt and now, this family owns you. The Kims. You have to be of use to them. We’re considered as slaves here but it doesn’t really sound that bad. It’s just working without pay but with absolute loyalty." You were surprised at what he said. How could he know? You didn't tell him anything. Also, the fact that you were called slaves sounded wrong to you. It seemed inhumane despite what Baek tried to explain.

He looked at me as if he was sorry. “It’s okay. I know cause it happened to me and all the others too. I will explain soon since I’m always the one hanging around here but right now, you have to go to the study. They will decide how to use you before they let you settle in. Now, go, okay? You don’t want to anger the youngest Kim.” He was talking while he dragged you at the end of the first floor’s hall. The information was too much to take in and before you knew it, you had to face your new bosses now. Or owners. You have no idea how to refer to them.

Baek turns the doorknob swiftly as he stands straighter than he did when you two were alone. He looks back at you once last time and assures you with a look as he entered the quiet room. "Young masters, the new girl is about to get in." You hear someone say to bring you in and Baek immediately ushers you inside.

The room they called study was large and carpeted. It was filled with books and tables. The air inside was also warmer than it was in the hallways. 

Baekhyun pointed to the center and I immediately got the signal. Baek left as you finally got to where he wanted you to stand. You stood there, in front of four men in suits. Their eyes were examining every inch of you and it made your skin crawl. The black dress you were still wearing for your mother's funeral wasn't exactly pretty. The thought of showing your makeup-less and swollen face to four dashing men who were supposed to be your new bosses didn't make it any better.

"Jun-hyung, what do you think?" The guy with a baby girl earlier spoke up first and asked a man in an all-black suit. You wanted to keep your eyes on the floor but they were too handsome to peel your sight off them.

This man called Jun looked angelic yet his face was stoic. He had a gentle aura but something about him warned your gut that you should be extra careful around this man. Nonetheless, it amazed you how four extremely good-looking men could be in one room. You suddenly recall Baekhyun’s words and they were the Kims. Must be a family. Amazing genes, you couldn’t help but think

"She has no special talents mentioned in her file." You wince at that Jun guy's comment, quickly waking you up from the daydream you just had about these gorgous men. You realize you were just an average human which is basically why your stepfamily didn't want to keep you. You weren't talented, intelligent or creative. 

You were also surprised that you had a file already with them. But then, it was your stepfather we were talking about. He would go to hell and back just to get rid of you

"She's pretty. I want her. Can I keep her, Jun?" You looked up at the person who spoke. It was a man who gave a different vibe. He looked very playful with his exotic face features but something told you he was just as dangerous as the other two. The man with a baby in his arms didn’t really scare you as much as the scowling man did. The other similarity he had with the rest was the expensive suit he was wearing.

He takes a good look at you before speaking. "Jun, I want her. You know we need a new plaything." He spoke with finality, smiling at you. You didn't know what he meant and your puzzled face gave off what you were thinking. "He wants to fuck you, dummy." The scowling man glared at you with so much intensity as he solved the confusion in your head.

Fuck me? Plaything? These words resonated in your head. You didn't know how to react. How was somebody supposed to react to someone wanting to fuck them?

"We don't do that anymore, Minseok-hyung." The Jun guy sighed, his eyes filled with pity as he stared at you. He really does look angelic, you thought. You snapped out of it again and bit your lip as you put your head down, not knowing what to say.

"We can if we get her consent." The guy with exotic features who seems to be named Minseok shrugged. He looks at you with so much determination once again. "Hey, what's your name, again?" He speaks again and you widen your eyes at his question.

"U-Um.. Y/N." You stuttered with so much fear. You really didn't want to die at all. You know you had to do whatever they wanted just to stay alive. Living was so meaningless like this but you didn't want your mother to be disappointed in you for just giving up. If these men returned you home, your stepfather would kill you. 

"So, Y/N, is it okay if we have sex with you from time to time? We really need the stress reliever." This Minseok guy smirked again. His directness shocked you to the core. You had to say yes, right? If you didn't, they'd kill you? Or torture you? Or return you home? None sounds appealing to you.

You really have no choice...

"I-I'd like t-to be of help to you with a-anything." You fiddled with your fingers as you said this. You were nervous as hell and hearing the scowling man's chuckle made it worse. 

"See, she's okay with this, Jun!" Minseok exclaimed with a huge grin on his face, eyeing you up and down. He patted Jun’s back and smirked at the scowling man. You weren't really opposed to what they wanted. They were handsome and you wanted to be alive, nothing more or less. You weren’t usually this shallow and easy but your eomma’s words keep ringing in your ears. You had to be alive.

"I guess it's settled then." The man with a baby girl earlier gave you an apologetic smile and stood up. You were about to walk out but the Jun guy spoke once again. "Tell Baekhyun to show you the available room on the fifth floor." He nodded at you. You were about to walk again but then something interrupted.

You heard the scowling man beside him laugh, stopping your tracks again. "Jun, you're really treating your whores right." He smirked and looked at you as if he was belittling you. You shuddered under his sight. He was truly intimidating, he had a different air to the other men. He was blunt and he never hesitated.

"You should leave now. Never mind his foul mouth." The guy with a baby waved off to you. Once again, this man has made your arrival here warmer. You nodded at them with finality and got out of the room as you heard Jun scold the other guys. “Jongdae, thank you for being nice today but treat slaves as they should be treated. Jongin, stop being mean. You’re being irrational.” He authoritatively announced to the two boys, making you assume he was the leader or something.

You close the door behind you with a final thud. You see Baekhyun leaning at the wall beside the study. He immediately went up to you.

"So, how did it go?" You didn't really know how to answer this question. How would you explain to someone that you agreed to fucking people? 

"U-Uh.. That guy named Jun told me to tell you to show me the room on the fifth floor?" You said with so much uncertainty, chewing on your bottom lip. His eyes were as large as saucers and his jaw dropped the moment you say this aloud. He couldn’t believe himself either.

Baekhyun shook his head in disbelief and tried to be as calm as he could. "What the hell did you agree to?! They never let slaves like us in the fifth floor! What more live there?" He asked in a hushed yet raised tone. He briskly dragged me to an elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Well, the Minseok guy asked me if I could help them sexually? I guess?" What you just said earned a loud gasp from Baekhyun. Your cheeks heated at the mention of this. "Holy shit..." You heard him mutter a curse and honestly, you couldn't help but agree. Non-survival you would never agree to anything like this but this is the new you. You had to survive. For your mother’s wishes and for your own good too. This time, Baekhyun looks at you with so much amusement.

"You're in for a fucking ride."

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventy One

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

January 10th, 1997

Remy was looking at the test his latest table-mate had given him and he frowned. “What’s so bad about it?” he asked.

“It’s a ninety seven!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, so? I barely got a seventy two,” Remy said with a shrug. “It’s okay to not get everything perfect, or even close to perfect. All that matters is that you pass.”

“Figures you’d see it that way,” she scoffed. “You don’t care about grades at all. Do you even know where you’re going to college?”

“Don’t know, don’t care, Cindy,” Remy said. “I’m fifteen. I don’t have to care yet.”

She scoffed again and stormed off as the bell rang and Remy rolled his eyes. Another potential friendship avoided. Good. He had been worried he wouldn’t be able to shake this one. And perfectionists rubbed him a very particular wrong way that was not pleasant.

  September 5th, 2002

Remy was working in the kitchen when Emile came up from behind him for a hug. “Hey, love,” Emile said.

“Mm, hi, mio amore,” Remy said. “Decided you’re finally ready for lunch?”

“Yeah. I was just doing some drawing earlier to fulfill the art class requirement I’ve been putting off, but the drawings are done for now. I just want to eat,” Emile said with a laugh.

“What were you drawing?” Remy asked.

“You,” Emile said. “Like, it wasn’t realistic figure drawings because I wasn’t looking at you, but I was working in different cartoon styles, and I figured I may as well draw one of the people I know best.”

Remy turned a slight red even as he continued to work. “Do I get to see these drawings eventually?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Emile said. “So long as you don’t tell me that my imitations of my favorite cartoon styles suck.”

“I would never say that,” Remy said. “You’re a pretty good drawer, actually. Maybe not make-a-living-off-it good, but definitely a your-art-shows-lots-of-care good.”

“Really?” Emile asked, and he looked surprised.

Remy paused in his work and faced Emile fully. “Yeah, Emile. You’re really good at art.” Emile frowned, and Remy mirrored the action. “Is there any reason that you wouldn’t think that?” Had he just found one of Emile’s insecurities?

“I mean, I guess not, it’s just...” Emile shrugged. “There’s a lot of things wrong with it. It’s like when I get a question wrong on a test. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t fix it.”

Remy squinted and walked past Emile, to the card table, where his sketchbook was still open. “Emile, your drawings look fine.”

“Fine, sure. But they’re not exactly good,” Emile said, walking over and pointing. “See, the eyes are slightly off compared to the She-Ra style, and in the Looney Tunes style I can’t get the hands and the fingers properly. And these are just the sketches I’m okay with other people seeing.”

Remy stared at Emile, then at the drawings, then Emile. “Emile, I’m not a cartoon expert like you are, but I know enough about art style differences from comics to understand this was just done by a different artist. It’s not wrong, it’s just a slight difference, like what can happen when more than one animator works on a project. The difference is that in animation, the frames go by so fast that it’s usually imperceptible.”

“No, it’s not the same style if it doesn’t look exactly the same. Otherwise it’s just an imitation,” Emile said.

“Okay...correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought you were just going for an imitation,” Remy said.

“I mean, yeah, but I realized how close I was and wanted it to be in the genuine style...and I couldn’t get it,” Emile mumbled the last part, turning away.

“What do you mean, honey? You definitely got it right,” Remy said.

“But I didn’t,” Emile argued.

Remy blinked. “Okay, maybe it’s not perfect, but—”

“—See?! You just said yourself that I didn’t get it!” Emile exclaimed.

Remy paused. Took a breath. Let it out slowly. “That’s not what I said,” he said calmly. Forcing away the irritation at being interrupted and the annoyance that Emile was apparently not listening to him. “I said you didn’t have it perfect. Not having it perfect doesn’t mean you don’t have it.”

“Yes it does!” Emile exclaimed with a huff.

The irritation faded away and was replaced with a blooming bud of concern. “No, it doesn’t, Emile...why would you think that?”

Emile laughed incredulously. “Do you really not know?”

“No,” Remy said. “I really don’t.”

“When I was in kindergarten the first time around, I was ‘the stupid one.’ I know you’ve heard this before, but listen. When it clicked and I finally knew how to read, I went to the top of my class in just about everything. Suddenly, school was impossibly easy. And everything I did was just considered perfect, perfect, perfect. That’s all it could be, that’s all it can be. I’m not allowed to fail. Because if I fail, then I’m just that stupid five-year-old who couldn’t even spell his own name. And suddenly everyone starts questioning me, saying they thought I was smart, I was supposed to understand this, and isn’t it easy? Why am I struggling?! I just need to push through until I understand, but I’m not even allowed to ask for help, because oh, that’s just for the stupid kids, Emile, and you’re not stupid! If something isn’t perfect, then it’s a problem. And I’m not supposed to have any more problems. Not after that.”

Remy didn’t know what to say. “Christ, Emile,” he breathed. “That’s terrible.”

Emile laughed and shook his head. “Not particularly,” he said, even as he was starting to cry. “Just the burden of being the smart kid, I guess. You have to keep up the appearance even if you have no idea what you’re doing. Because otherwise all the teachers see is that dumb kid who couldn’t tell the difference between an ‘o’ and a ‘v.’”

“I thought only your teen years were traumatic, but Christ. That’s just...I don’t have any words. I was never really ‘the smart kid,’ I never had to deal with that, but...wow, so many things make sense now,” Remy said. He shook his head. “Not the point, not the point. Okay. Emile, I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen to me when I say it, okay?”

Emile took off his glasses, wiping away his tears, and he nodded. “I’m listening.”

Remy grabbed Emile’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. “You have my explicit permission to fail.”

“You...what?” Emile asked.

“You have my permission to fail. Okay? If you don’t get everything perfect, you’re not stupid in my eyes. If your graduating GPA is three point nine, I won’t focus on the one class you got a ‘B’ in. I’ll focus on the fact that all your other classes you aced with all ‘A’s! That’s freaking amazing! I would never be able to do that! If you get one thing wrong, if you ‘fail’ in your eyes, that’s okay. No one can be perfect all the time. It’s okay to need help. It’s not just for people who are struggling. This operates on the same principles as therapy. Therapy is not just for people who are drowning in their own emotions, it’s also to teach those people how to swim, or to find a boat. The same is true if you have to ask a professor a question, or enlist the skills of a tutor. You’re not stupid for doing those things, you’re learning more so you don’t make the same mistakes in the future.” Remy kissed Emile. “You’re not stupid, Emile, and you never have been stupid. ‘Stupid’ as a concept is just...well, it’s stupid. It makes no sense. And getting one or two questions wrong on a test doesn’t mean you’re stupid. It means you got all the other questions right, and you get to learn from those mistakes.”

Emile blinked. “What if I get all the questions wrong?” he asked, voice small.

“You’re still not stupid. You just need to stress less and maybe study harder next time. But I doubt that would happen, okay? You’re Emile freaking Thomas, and you can do anything you set your mind to. Don’t sell yourself short,” Remy said, giving Emile a crooked grin at the end.

Emile slowly removed Remy’s hands from his face and stared at the floor. “Honey, I appreciate the sentiment, but...I can’t just stop this. I’ve been doing it for fifteen years.”

“I know you can’t just stop it at will, honey, that’s not what I’m asking of you,” Remy said. “I’m asking you to go a little easier on yourself. You don’t have to be perfect. If you get everything right, more power to you, but beat yourself up a little less if you make a mistake. If you do nothing else, at least remind yourself that you have my permission to fail? That no one will hate you or think that you’re stupid if you mess up?”

“I...” Emile trailed off, actually considering Remy’s words, which Remy counted as a win. “Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?” Remy asked.

“Yeah, I’ll try,” Emile said, not looking Remy in the eye, but his tone sounded hopeful. “It would be nice to not feel like everything has to be perfect, I think.”

“You’ll either find it incredibly liberating or incredibly terrifying, I think. Possibly both,” Remy said drily.

Emile snorted. “I’m willing to bet you’re right,” he said with a nod. “I’ve never really considered what it would be like to be allowed to fail. Even when we moved out of the college dorms, I didn’t think about the possibility of failing and not managing our money correctly, because failure just wasn’t an option. And I guess it saved us issues with rent and food and the like, but I’m willing to bet it did a number on my mental health too. Just a hunch.”

Remy laughed. “Honey, you’ve worked yourself sick before because you’re so focused on helping friends and going to work and keeping that perfect GPA. I know for a fact that it’s done a number on you not only mentally, but physically.”

“Okay, I see your point,” Emile said with a slightly sheepish smile. “That was me going a little overboard.”

“More than a little,” Remy said with a snort. “That in and of itself was a bit of a failure. Failure to take care of yourself.”

Emile went oddly quiet, before he softly went, “Oh.”

“Oh?” Remy asked.

“I have failed in the past, then,” Emile said. “And you didn’t change how you treated me. I mean, you might have called me stupid for pushing myself too far and getting myself sick, but you didn’t...treat me like I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“That’s because you do know what you’re doing,” Remy said. “Making one or two mistakes, or outright failing doesn’t mean you don’t know anything. It means you might need things explained to you in a different way, or just explained period, but you know way more than most people, Emile. I would argue you’re smarter than most twenty one year olds I’ve met. At least, academically. Street smarts are another story.”

“Look, that was one time I got lost on the way home from McDonald’s!” Emile defended. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have street smarts!”

Remy burst out laughing. “No, that means that you have no sense of direction, and no street smarts.”

“This coming from the guy who purposefully picked a fight with a guy who was buddies with linebackers from the football team,” Emile snorted. “That’s not exactly prime ‘street smarts’ either, mister.”

“Okay, okay, so we’re both dumbasses coming to street smarts! I still know more than you on that front!” Remy exclaimed.

“Oh, you wish!” Emile declared, “I’d bet actual money that I have more street smarts than you.”

“A fool and his money are soon parted,” Remy said with a wicked grin. “But fine. If you’re so certain, let’s get an impartial party to determine this. Next time we see Bernie, we’ll ask him. But be prepared to lose whatever money you’re betting!”

“We have joint bank accounts in all but name anyway,” Emile said with a shrug. “We regularly buy stuff for each other. What difference does it make if that money is in my account or yours?”

“You have a point,” Remy hummed. “Okay. How about we bet food? If you win, we get the stuff to bake cupcakes. If I win, we get the stuff for brownies. And the loser has to help bake the sweets that we’ll be eating for the next two weeks or so.”

“Oh, you are so on!” Emile exclaimed.

Remy grinned. Emile was hopefully going to go a little easier on himself, and Remy was going to get to eat brownies next week! This was great!

[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.”

[mysterioh]

La Douleur Exquise - Ch. 2

PAIRING: STEVE ROGERS X READER X BUCKY BARNES

SYNOPSIS: Bucky promises to write to you every day after you moved away to sunny California, but it doesn’t take very long for him to forget his promise. Luckily, there’s a certain blonde that keeps it for him. Through an exchange of letters, your childhood affection for Bucky blossoms into something more. If only you knew it was Steve that returned those feelings and not his numskull of a best friend.

MASTERLIST

California Dreamin’

December 12, 2010 

Greetings from Sunny San Diego! 

As the years go by I’m forgetting what winter feels like. The icicles hanging from bare trees, the cold nipping at your cheeks and nose, the howling wind passing by the window when you’re cuddled up in thick blankets on snow days. It’s like my memories are starting to grow numb. Guess I should come over and thaw them out? 

I think it’s kinda funny how you’re probably over there freezing to death while I went to the beach with some friends the other day. I know how much you hate the cold so why don’t you come over and I’ll warm you right up?

It’s been five years, can you believe it? It seems like time just flies by as you get older and you’re only left wishing for the past. I think it’s amazing how committed we are to this and there isn’t a day that goes by when I’m not excited for another letter. How have you been lately? Algebra 2 still kicking your butt? It’s not so hard if you’re organized but considering your habits I can see why you’re struggling. Am I sounding mean? Because I should be…

Anyways, there’s this place on the boardwalk called Richie’s Pizza and they claim to have the best New York Pizza in the world. My friends really like going there and I have to pretend like I actually like the stuff. It tastes like cardboard to me. It may have been years but you can’t fool my taste buds when it comes to NY pizza. God, I’m crying just thinking about that damn pizza. 

Mind if I get a little serious real quick? It’s something that’s been on my mind lately and I don’t really know who to tell. I don’t trust many people, but I trust you. 

Do you ever feel alone even when you’re around others? Cause I do. Yeah, they’re my friends but they’re not my “friends”. Does that even make sense? I can’t really tell them everything and sometimes I feel like they don’t really care much about me. It’s like I’m a third wheel. Sometimes I think it’s my fault. I’m not funny enough or pretty enough. I always feel insecure and pressured. Like I don’t belong. 

At least I have you and these letters. Even if I can’t see you, I can feel you and that’s more than enough for me to feel wanted.

Bucky Barnes you are one heckuva dude and I think of you greater than any other person I know. 

Sending you the warmth of the California sun, 

Y/N

The classroom is warm compared to the wintry chill outside. Steve was one of the lucky ones. Though the classroom walls are bare, the windows were large and everyone wanted to sit in the unsubdued morning light of the winter sun. And Steve just so happened to have the best seat, in the back corner next to the window. The teacher never really remembered the guy in the corner and that made it all the more lovely. 

Forgotten from the rest of the room, he took it as the time to finish homework he was too lazy to do the night before and maybe even write a few letters.

“Hey Steve,” Bucky slid into the desk in front of him. He quickly stashes the letter into a folder. “Whatcha working on?" 

"Just history homework,” Steve smiled. “What’s up?" 

"Nothing much,” he shrugged. “I’m going skating with Cindy after school today you wanna come along?" 

His jaw went slack. "Don’t you think I’ll just be third-wheeling?" 

"Nah,” Bucky replied. “She’s bringing one of her friends. The ginger with the curls. Uh–Edith or something…" 

"Don’t you think you should know your girlfriend’s friends?” Steve sighed. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he plucked at the cuff of his sweater. “We’re just friends." 

"Well, the way she clings onto your arm says something else,” Steve said, his tone colored with bitterness. 

“It’s nothing,” Bucky brushes him off. “Seriously." 

"If you say so,” Steve exhales while shaking his head. 

“So is that a no from you?" 

"It’s a no from me.” He nods, beginning to write again. 

“C'mon, man,” Bucky groaned, “this could be your chance. I really think Beth likes you." 

"You said her name was Edith." 

"Right, anyway I saw her making eyes at you in the hallway,” Bucky wiggled his brows. 

Steve snorted. “I think that was you. No girl looks at me like that, it’s only you." 

"That’s because you’re too busy sticking your nose in those books. All you ever do is write. Sometimes I forget what you even look like." 

"Thanks, jerk,” Steve said. 

“C'mon Stevie, whaddya say?” Bucky enticed him with a striking smile. “It’ll be fun." 

"Get out of my desk, Beaverface,” Sam hollered from the door. 

Bucky grunted at him but does so. He turns towards Steve before leaving as the teacher strolled in. 

“We’re not done here, blondie,” he pointed at him, making his way towards his desk. Steve sinks in his chair, wondering how he was going to get out of this one.

The sounds of chalk tapping against the board signals him to sit up and open up his notebook to a fresh page. He writes the date and nothing else. 

Your letter sticks out of the pages and he pulls it out and finds the picture you sent him. He smiled to himself and his neighbors could’ve sworn he was crazy for smiling like a fool. But he didn’t care. 

In the picture, you were sitting on the trunk of a car, (probably a friend’s dad’s convertible), with a letterman jacket placed over your shoulders to keep you warm from the cool briny breeze sweeping by a sunset on the beach and flowing through your hair. It’s definitely too big to be yours and he hopes it’s just a friend’s and nothing more. 

All he could think about was being there with you. 

Under the California sun. By the waves of the Pacific. The musty air coming from the ocean flowing through his hair. The sand sticking to his legs and feet. The sound of your giggles echoing along the shoreline as he chases you into the water. And maybe as the sun sets, he’d get to hold your hand and share the view with you. Then when the sun lays to sleep he’ll look into your eyes and you’ll look into his. He’d dip his head, lower his lips, and close the gap between until he finds yours in a—. 

“Mr. Rogers,” Steve bolts up at the sound of his name. His classmates giggle but Mrs. Lewinsky was not amused. His cheeks burn a bright red out of embarrassment. “Nice to know you’ve decided to come back to the real world. Now get your book open to page forty-seven and read the first paragraph." 

"Y-yes,” he said, fumbling with the pages of his copy of The Catcher in the Rye. 

“That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty. Even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. They can drive you crazy. They really can." 

"Bills, bills, bills,” your dad drones as flips through the day’s mail in his hand. “Junk, ooh coupons." 

"You don’t have to narrate it,” you deadpanned, walking over to the kitchen sink to drop in some dishes. 

“Well, then I guess you wouldn’t care about this letter from Bucky Barnes. 1463 Mulligan Drive." 

Your ears perk at the sound of Bucky’s name and you dash over to him to take it. 

"Uh-uh,” he shook his head, swiping the letter away from within hand’s reach, “I wanna know who this Bucky Barnes even is." 

"It’s a friend!” You exclaimed. “From New York!" 

"Wait,” he furrows his brow. “You’re still friends with those kids?" 

You groaned, taking the letter from him. "Yes, I am,” you replied, walking away. 

“In the day and age of social media, you’re writing letters,” he stated amused. “You kids know how to write a letter? Are you even sending it to the right person?" 

"His name is on the envelope, dad,” you sighed, walking towards the staircase. “Besides there’s something more heartfelt about writing letters. It’s more romantic so to speak." 

"Romantic?” He questioned with a raised brow. “What’s this kid writing to you about?”

You climbed the stairs towards your room. “Nothing you need to worry about,” you teased, running up and into your room. 

You lock the door to limit any nosy dads. Plopping onto your bed, you stare at the letter with a wide grin. You brush your fingers across his name on the front. It was all capitals and leaning towards the right. You rip open the envelope carefully and pull out a paper. 

Your heart beats wildly and your cheeks burn. It gets like this everytime and as the days go by it feels like it’s getting worse. Who would’ve thought one letter would do so much to a person? 

December 17, 2010

Greetings from the saddest place on earth! 

It’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year and yet it feels like the worst. 

It’s gray and boring. There’s dirty snow stuck to the curbs. And everyone gets an extra dose of cranky in their bones. Trust me when I say, forgetting the winter cold isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I slipped on ice and almost died this morning on the way to school. So that was pretty fun. I also almost got detention today because Sam decided he wanted to play football in the hallway. 

I sound like the grinch or something. I promise you I’m not anything like him. Just down on my luck I suppose. The winter doldrums, I guess? You make me jealous with all your talking about warm, sunny days by the beach. It’s not fair. How about you bring some of that California sun over here? Cause I’m too cold to come over there. 

Best New York pizza huh? I have to laugh! It’s probably so hot over there that it burned their taste buds off. I feel bad for you, but not that bad. It’s what you get for dragging my Algebra skills. 

By the way, I’m doing a lot better. I got a B+ now instead of a C. Maybe I just didn’t understand imaginary numbers. Like aren’t they all imaginary??? Math is stupid and I’d rather stick to something more practical like English or History. 

I know exactly how you feel and just know if you can’t tell anyone anything, you can always tell me. I’ll always listen (or read haha) what you have to say. It’s the best part of my day. 

I don’t know why but I always end up distancing myself from others. My friends haven’t changed. It’s still the same old gang, but it feels different ever since you left. I feel like I’m not a good friend for distancing myself from them. They like me and I like them but there’s just something missing. A sense of understanding? A sense of belonging? I can’t really pick it out. There’s a plethora of reasons. 

(Plethora means a large amount of something. Start reading books you ignoramus.) 

I feel alone. I feel lost. Like there’s nothing left to look forward to. At least I have your letters and waiting for the next one only makes me look forward to another day where I can read about your day. Wishing I could be a part of it. Maybe someday in the future. Hopefully someday soon. 

I remember something my Grandma once told me. Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we’re here we might as well dance. 

If we ever got the chance would you dance with me? 

Best wishes from the Atlantic to the Pacific, 

Bucky

p.s. Not pretty enough? Liar. I saw your picture. They gotta put your face on a Cover Girl Magazine. Anyone who says otherwise is gonna catch these hands. 

TAG LIST: @chuckennuggets1213 @joeyrumlow @bigbuckyenergy​

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Ordinary Cousin of a Superhero | Cousin!Pearl Pangan and Filipina!Reader (Oneshot)

Prompt: Metamorphosis

Fandom: Marvel

Warning: A short scene with violence, nothing too graphic

Words: 1844

A/N: Just caught up with the arc for the new Agents of Atlas and Atlantis Attacks. I’m loving Wave and I hope that she gets her own comic book series soon. The fact that the entire team for the new Agents of Atlas is made up of Asian characters is amazing. By the way, I have not watched Agua Bendita yet, but if someone knows how to watch it, lmk

-

Being the cousin of a superhero has its pros and cons. Pros, is that you’re related to a superhero, you’ve got bragging rights, you’ve grown familiar with their lifestyle, get to meet other superheroes, and you’ve got a powerful ally that has your back no matter what. Cons, they’re always busy, you become a target to their enemies, people believe you got where you are because of your relations, not your own capabilities, being constantly compared, along with feeling…  not special.

But after a while, you weren’t as insecure about being the cousin of Pearl Pangan, also known as Wave, the water manipulator and member of the Agents of Atlas. You were a scientist, a member of an innovative research team in Stark Industries. You got where you are because you worked hard and wanted to help change the world, even if you didn’t have any superpowers of your own. You don’t always need superpowers to change the world.

The team’s current project was regeneration liquid. “Think bacta tanks from Star Wars,” Tony had said. It wasn’t a cure all solution, but would help deal with superficial injuries until the patient could be transferred to the hospital and if your team got the formula right, submerging the patient in the water could help heal internal injuries as well.

One day, you were eating lunch with Cindy Moon, Amadeus Cho, and his sister, Maddy, over at the pizza parlor when Cindy froze mid bite. She tossed her pizza slice down and looked around with a frown.

“What is it?” Amadeus asked.

Maddy pulled out her scanner, checking the reading for abnormal activities. “Ammy, it’s coming from the water off the east coast,” she said.

Amadeus cursed under his breath. “Sorry, (Y/n/n), we have to-”

“I know,” you said, shooing them away, “Go save the world. Pizza can always wait.”

“We’ll stop by the tower,” Cindy promised. She finished her slice and stood up, her silk-senses tingling like crazy.

Suddenly, you were left alone with an empty pizza pan. You slurped the last of your drink before leaving a tip and heading out. There was a small tremor in the ground, but everyone seemed to have shrugged it off. You were checking your phone for any updates on the project while you were on lunch break when someone bumped into you. Then another. And another. Your phone was long gone in the stampede of retreating pedestrians. The ground began to rumble until all the manholes bursted open with rank sewer water spewing out.

You began to move towards Stark Towers, the only safe place you knew, when a hand shot forward from an alleyway, yanking you by the collar. They threw you against the brick wall, your form hidden from passerbyers by the large garbage bin.

“Where is the formula?” A man in a black ski masked demanded, holding a gun at you,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you sputtered, trying to pry his hands away.

He gripped your shirt, pulling you towards him, then slamming you against the wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your vision blurring for a moment. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. Where is the formula?”

“I don’t know!”

He sighed, tucking his gun away. Your shoulders sagged, foolishly believing that he was going to drop it. Maybe he was just some thug hired by a rival company, desperate to find a way to cheat Tony Stark.

A knife came towards you without hesitation, a leather gloved hand preventing your screams as he went to work. Tears ran down your face when your struggling was futile. You were powerless.

-

Your bruised and bloodied body was placed in a crate and delivered to the front of Stark Industries. The pain came in bursts as the crate was rattled around, muffled voices could be heard beyond the thin walls of your confinement, but you were too tired and weak to make a noise.

There was a sound of some kind of scanner surrounding the crate, followed by a loud gasp. The crate was quickly pried open, a flood of light filling in and making it hard to keep your eyes opened. The last thing you remembered was being lifted out and carried onto a stretcher, panicked voices surrounding you.

You had a dream once where you were at a beach. It was the beach that your family used to go to when you were little. You turned and saw your cousin, Pearl, stare at you before her eyes widened. You were suddenly sucked into the ocean, being dragged down as if there was a chain wrapped around your limbs, pulling you deeper and deeper down. You were alone under water, but you could see blurry figures above the surface talking, but they couldn’t see you.

What you were feeling was quite similar to that dream, being tied down while under water with people conversing as if you weren’t there. Though, this time, there was that rumbling again. The same one you heard out on the streets. Lights above the surface of the water flickered as the water vibrated around you, a current sucking you in again.

There was a sudden surge of light, hitting directly at you. Water entered your mouth and you began to choke. It was all too real to be a dream. You struggled against your restraints, flailing your arms until you felt the water move and you were strangely falling forward towards the surface.

Alarms blared around you as you gasped for air, your body soaked and surrounded by shards of glass. A sturdy pair of hands grabbed your waist before slinging your arm around their neck. You continued to cough as you tried to regain your bearings.

You were pulled into another lab that seemed to be unscathed by the accident. The person propped you up on one of the exam tables, holding your face steady as analyzing brown eyes scanned your face. You winced at the sudden flashlight in your eyes, a quick apology muttered by the person examining you. They waved a small scanner over you and gave a huff.

“(Y/n), can you hear me?” they asked softly.

You nodded slowly.

“Can you tell me your full name?”

“(Y/n)... (Y/l/n).”

“Do you know who I am?”

You blinked your eyes as they slowly focused. “Bruce?”

He nodded, relief written on his face. “Do you know where you are?”

You briefly looked around. “One of the labs… at Stark Tower.”

“Do you remember what happened at the time of your accident?”

You frowned, nodding. “I was grabbed…. At an alley. A lot of things were happening at once. They wanted the formula. I refused to give it to them. They… they beat me up and knocked me unconscious. I was… in a crate… i think. Then… I was in water.”

“We submerged you in the H.O.L.Y. water,” Bruce said, “Your readings showed that most of your injuries had already healed in the last few hours until the explosion.”

“Holy water? Explosion?”

“Right. I’ll explain one at a time. Tony called the project H.O.L.Y. water, which he hadn’t explained what it stood for, but while you were in the water, there had been a few explosions in the area and one in the building. It wasn’t an ordinary explosion and… i believe it had reacted to the water, causing some side effects.”

Your heart began to race. Had the formula become unstable or toxic? Bruce sensed your panic, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay… just, take a deep breath. What I’m about to show you might shock you. Let me know when you’re ready.”

You took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. When your heartbeat returned to normal, you gave him a nod. He handed you a mirror, which you took with shaky hands. You lifted it, slowly revealing your face. Your skin seemed normal, making you nervous that you were missing something major. Your heartbeat picked up again and your skin turned blue, becoming more translucent the more you panicked. Almost as if you were water. 

“What… what… what’s going on?”

Bruce sighed. “We believe that this explosion has caused you to absorb the properties of the water.”

“The… there was electricity that surged through the water, I think,” you said, gripping the mirror as you concentrated on trying to keep your form stable.

He nodded. “I just took a scan of you and you are completely healed, faster than we anticipated. That explosion destroyed that lab and you emerged unscathed. I believe you have rapid healing abilities.”

“I…” You gripped the edge of the table as you tried to wrap your head around the situation. “I need a nap.”

-

Pearl had been staring at you for the past fifteen minutes in curiosity, but also concern. Having the ability to manipulate water, Pearl was also able to sense anything water, which was why she had been surprised when she was called over to Stark Tower right after a mission, only to find her cousin in a distressed state with her skin fluctuating between her normal skin color and ocean blue water.

“Oh diyos ko, you remind me of Agua Bendita!” she finally exclaimed.

The tension in your muscles loosened at this, a laugh escaping your lips. You weren’t sure how she was going to react, but you were glad that she was at least approaching you as she normally would.

“Oh my god, I think I am.” You reached out and hovered your thumb over a cut on her cheek before pressing down and wiping it as if it was a mere stain.

“That was cool.”

“Yeah, I guess this is my life now,” you said.

“I’m tempted to dunk you in the water to see what happens.”

“Pearl, no.”

You shook your head at her, then looked down at your hands. They seemed to return to their normal state when you’re calm, but turn to water when you’re upset. You would have to talk to Bruce about how to keep your condition in check. No doubt that they’d want to run tests on you to see what else you could do. Tony had even mentioned that he wanted to keep it a secret for as long as he can from Fury.

With your new condition, you didn’t want anything to change. Going back to work after the incident, you noticed that only the researchers who were present during the incident were aware of your condition, being sworn to secrecy by Tony or risked being fired. You could still feel their eyes on you, making you self conscious and turn to ocean blue without you meaning to.

You didn’t want to become some miracle healer, and there was no way you’d have those powers without a price. Until you find your full potential, you feared that if word got out of your powers, you’d gain plenty more enemies than when you were Wave’s ordinary cousin.

[reeree1500]

The Return- Part 9

Disclaimer: Im so sorry for keeping you guys waiting, but Ive been trying to figure out my new schedule and had literally no time to write anything down 😬 This part contains lots of angst and honestly I don't feel like its the best🤣 I want to thank y'all for all the love and support💕☺️And forgive me in advance for this is 100% gonna be utter shit😭🙏🏽 So don't kill me😅

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

Taglist: @yanii-the-hippie @oceans-daughter-3 @peaceisadirtyword @laketaj24 @camatsuru @youbloodymadgenius @calum-hoodwinked-me @cutegyrl927 @wuxiesalt @readsalot73 @cindy-exo @amy8220 @affection-rabbit @mel0nch0ly @queenofallthyfandoms @limbo-limbo-limbo @ragnarssonsbitch @supernaturalvikingwhore @ifihadwings128 @paintballkid711 @jenny-the-lover @funmadnessandbadassvikings  @blonddnamedhandz @hallowed-heathen @pinkrockstar19 

- Sorry if I missed any of you💕 Lemme know if you want to be tagged. Also requests are open, and I’ve got a ton of them to do and finish. Hopefully Ill be able to post them soon enough

Warnings: Angst, Violence, bad grammar + spelling.😂

Your POV

“My wife...” At Ivar’s words you had felt as if your heart had been ripped out of your chest, crumpled, and stomped on by him right in front of you. You just looked at the blonde beauty and thought about how perfect she was and how you could have never compared to her. “(Y/n), are you alright? You seem pale and quite unwell.” Freydis says to you with what would seem as genuine concern in her eyes. Your mind was at a loss for words, something that did not happen often to you anymore. You didn't know whether it could've been out fo jealousy or if out of shock and what seemed like a flare of anger rising in you. “Just a little light headed, that's all. Anyways, are you alright if we go up to the castle now? Or are there anymore people on the ship?” You say through gritted teeth and a fake smile on your face. Freydis exchanges a look with Ivar and he then turns to you with a smile on his face nodding. As the three of you turn to walk towards the hill leading to the castle, you noticed how Freydis gushed over Ivar in front of you. Occasionally she would turn and pretend to admire her surroundings and meet your eyes trying to show off. You promised yourself that for the love of your siblings and family that you would go along with the facade and pretend as if you didn't want to kill her every time she clung onto him like that. But it was proving much harder than you had initially thought. “Freydis, I would like a moment to talk to (y/n). You can continue making your way to the castle with a few of my men, just be careful love.” You heard Ivar say to her as his lips grazed hers. 

Why had you been so jealous? You were happily married now to Arthur and had 2 beautiful children by him. As you would not let yourself think otherwise as to who the possibility of who the father could be. Not paying attention to Ivar or his “wife” you kept looking out towards the gardens and the townspeople. Your body is then whisked around rapidly by your so called “brother” and you come face to face for the first time in 4 years. “Why?” “Why what Ivar?” You say rolling your eyes at him trying to avoid this touchy subject. “You know exactly what!” He says pulling you off to the side and out of hearing range of anyone around. “How could you keep my children away from me!” 

Ivar says as his grips tightens on your arms, surely to leave a bruise. Back then you would have cowered with fear at his tone of voice. But now you were a queen and Arthur had made you realize that no one not even himself could ever trample over you again! “First of all, you are not the king here and you DO NOT! Call the shots!” You say gripping his hand and forcing it to unclasp your arm. “Secondly, my children have a father and his name is Arthur Pendragon. The King of this land and I am his queen and I will not have you disrespect him with such blasphemous words leaving your mouth!” You say to him, with as much venom as you could muster laced into your words. His eyes showed shock and admiration in them. Surely in his mind he thought about how much you had changed and how the once scared girl that graced the land of Kattegat was now gone. Ivar knew the answer to his question though. You could not bare to let him in on the fact that you had bared him children, it would have placed everyone you cared for in the danger you had placed so far away from you. Not waiting for him to answer and get his words together you turn around and leave him behind in the dust. Walking away you felt empowered and for the first time like you had the control over him and it felt good.

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

Making your way through the halls of the castle you finally reach the hall to see everybody gathered and chatting with each other. Marjorie notices you enter and springs quickly from Arthur’s lap and makes a bee line for your arms. “Mama! You're just in time, Uncle Bjorn is telling us stories of when you were my age. Frankly you were quite boring, but it’s okay you’ve gotten a wee bit more fun!”  She said as she clung around your neck. This child you say as you internally roll your eyes. She could always leave a whole room without words in seconds. But it was a quality that you were quite fond of. Carrying Marjorie in your arms you made your way towards Arthur and sat beside him. Marjorie then jumps from your arms to Arthurs lap and starts to play with the buttons on his jacket. Marjorie adored her father and it was evident to everyone who would look their way. Especially Ivar who sulked and gritted his teeth every time his eyes laid on her playing with Arthur. 

Arthur lived to serve our children, but Marjorie was his mini-me. However, Erik was all mine. At that I call Erik away from the candies I know that he so desperately wants to eat, but that I will not let him. This boy is hyper enough as it is and I cannot handle so much excitement and emotions today. His little eyes turn to me pleading for a small bite of the sweets that are bestowed upon him. However, I am firm in my decision and although disappointed he makes his way to me with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Holding him in my arms I cannot resist, but spin him around as we both giggle and fall to the floor in a fit of laughter. “You're an exceptional mother (y/n), I always knew you would be.” Bjorn says whilst looking toward me with tears brimming in his eyes. “I feel incredibly proud of you for pushing past all the horrible things that have been placed in front of you and you coming out on top.” At that tears begin to form in mine. “Ok, Ok. No more crying. I feel as if there has been enough of that in our lives to last us the rest of them.” Hvitserk says whilst laughing. At his comment everyone laughs and that is when Sara enters the hall. “Your highness it is time for their majesties’ lessons.” She says whilst bowing her head. At that Erik and Marjorie stand up and rush towards her. They loved Sara and treated her as if she were their older sister. In fact she was Mira’s younger sister who was sent to me by Gisela when she found out about my pregnancy. I could not have asked for a better tutor for my children. Saying my goodbyes to them I turn to walk towards my husband, but come to notice a certain look on a certain bear like man. Bjorn’s eyes hold an astonished look of admiration and adoration. The look of a man who's been taken to heaven and does not wish to come back. 

Arthur taps my knee to grab my attention, but he notices what Ive just witnessed and a smirk is displayed on his face. “It seems that our little Sara has caught your interest, Bjorn?” Arthur says playfully to him. “Yes, it appears to be so. Ive never met such a beautiful woman in my life.” Bjorn says still in what seems to be a trans like state of some kind. “Bjorn, surely you’ve met more beautiful women than a simple tutor and maid, have you not?” Freydis says from Ivar’s side. Her comments made by blood boil, which Arthur noticed and took quick action against. He placed his arms around my shoulders and whispered sweet nothings into my ears. He then lays one of his hands on my lap, to then which I place my hands on his, holding him ever close to us.

The way she caresses his hair and the way she positions herself beside him is bothersome to me. It goes to show that Freydis is a woman that will do anything to keep him, even if that a means worshipping him like a God. Trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension that quickly seems to be building up. Arthur asks about Kattegat and how it has been since we left. What we didn't know was that at this very moment just a few feet away was the person who would bring about sorrow and grief everywhere they went. Especially to me.

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

Bjorn’s POV

When Arthur asked about the current state of Kattegat, my hands balled into fists. Not by his question, but because the ruin of Kattegat had come with us to England. “Well, it could be better, but I will not ruin our visit with such an ill subject.” I reply in a tone in which everyone understands that the subject matter at hand should not be one to be discussed. At the moment (y/n) decides to turn the attention upon Ivar and his new wife. It was obvious that she was hurt by it, however knowing my sister she would never admit that to a soul. She was moodier then I could remember her being, but it could just be the fact that people in England are moodier then everyone. “When and how did this come about, and why had we not heard sooner about this union Ivar. Where you hiding your wife from me? Or did you simply want to take us by surprise when you brought your whore to a place where my children reside? Huh!” (Y/n) says while she stands up, rage very much evident in her eyes. 

At that the room became silent and servants who seemed shocked and outright astonished by the fact that (y/n) was behaving this way. Arthur stood up from his throne and pulled her body into his as a way to try to calm her down, but we knew that it would not be so easy. “Control yourself (y/n), please. This is not good for you and you know it. The doctor said you should rest and not become stressed. Please I beg of you, listen to me and stand down.” Arthur whispers into her ear. After what seems like ages (y/n) looks down and Arthur softens his hold on her. A quiet Im sorry leaves her lips and she walks out of the room towards what seems to be her quarters. I would have to check up on her, this was very unsalted behaviour for her and it worried me.

 Arthur clears his throat and asks the servants to shows us to our rooms, but not before asking Ivar to stay behind. “Ivar, please stay. I would like to have a word with you and apologize for my wife’s behaviour towards you both.” As everyone moves Freydis seems to stay in her place by Ivar’s side. Obviously not getting the fact that she was not part of the conversation that was to be had. “Alone.” Arthur says while facing the window and his back to them. Something that I knew bothered Ivar very much...Authority and power which he could do nothing about. 

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

Arthur’s POV

“So, what is it that you wanted to speak to me about, besides your wife’s ridiculous outburst?...Your majesty.” Ivar says through gritted teeth. Turning around I keep my face stoic as ever, however all I wanted was to punch this man in the face for all the pain and suffering he had not only caused my wife, but her people as well. I had heard of Ivar’s actions against his people from my spies in Kattegat and from Bjorn himself. I knew that the once respect that I held for this man had gone out the window the moment he started burning everyone who opposed him. “Come, I wish to show you something out on the balcony.” I say to him as I walk without waiting for his reply. I can feel his eyes burning holes into my skull, but I care not for this as I have more pressing matters at hand. 

Stepping out onto the balcony I look over the lands that had been bestowed upon me by my father. “These lands, were given to me by my father, who which in turn got them from his father, and so on. One day when (y/n) and I are gone these lands shall go to Erik or Marjorie... Our children.” In this moment Ivar scoffs and I could see him roll his eyes at me. “Your children? We both know who damn well! Fathered those children Arthur! It wouldn't take much to see the resemblance between us!” He yells at my direction. “I invited you to my home so that my wife would be able to see her family once again away from the dangers of Kattegat! But I now see that it was a mistake to invite you here. Erik and Marjorie are not and will never be yours! And on top of that you come with a “wife” who's sole purpose of your marriage was to get your mind off of my wife! MY WIFE! Whom shall never be yours!” I yell at him as my patience wears thin. Unable to hold back the anger and resentment I feel towards him anymore, I grab him by the collar and push him towards the railing. Grabbing him so that he may not fall, but just enough to try and scare him. 

However, I underestimated him and feel my footing quickly fall from beneath me. Ivar then lunges himself on top of me and begins to throw punches left and right. I dodge and fight back as much as I can, but he is able to get a couple of punches in. Spotting an opportunity I quickly flip us over and start punching him for everything he has done. At this point I see red and fear that there will be nothing to stop me from killing him. Except my wife. “Arthur! Let him go! What are you doing!” She says as she runs towards us. In that moment I forgot about ivar and stared at my wife, but it only took a second for Ivar to kick me and cause me to crash against the railing itself. “Ugh!” Before I could lunge myself at him (y/n) threw herself in front of him. And I stopped dead in my tracks. How could I have been so foolish to think that she could have ever loved me back. To think that we could have actually had something. NO! She will always choose him, she will always choose Ivar. 

Your POV

I couldn't let them go on. I couldn’t let my husband kill the man that I once loved. No matter how much he deserved it, but Arthur didn't understand that. He didn't understand that I had put Ivar behind me and that now all I wanted and all I needed was him. Arthur looked like as if his world had been flipped upside down and like his heart had been ripped out of his chest, by me. Shaking his head he looks down and heads inside. Not before stopping and turning around to face Ivar one last time. “If you ever utter the words that Erik and Marjorie are yours, I will not hesitate to kill you on the spot. Im done showing mercy and being the fool.” And with that he walks inside bloodied and leaving me astonished. “(y/n), I...” “Shut up! Just shut up! How dare you! Did I not warn you that something like this would happen! You need to stop Ivar, Erik and Marjorie are not yours and will never be! Arthur has been the father that they need and deserve. You on the contrary will never be their father, because all you do is bring me pain!” I yell at him through the tears that fall down my face like a cascade. 

“How could I have proven to you that I could be great father, when you didn't even give me a chance! I gave you a way out of the situation you were in! I told you that we could have run away together and lived together as a family away from it all. But you! You decided that I wasn't good enough for you!” He says standing up from the ground cradling his side, obviously showing that Arthur had got in a good punch or two. “I couldnt have and you know it! Floki he...” I begin to say before I stop myself and think about that night. “What! What did he say to you (y/n)! What lies are you gonna spew out about the only man that has ever cared for me my entire life!” He says getting extremely close to me, his eyes showing hints of a side to him that I had never come across but had heard from the gossip and read from the letters Bjorn sent to Arthur. “Your precious Floki threatened me with your life and that of everyone who is close to me, if I didn't leave Kattegat! So yes! Blame me Ivar for being so selfish that I placed your life and the lives of everyone I cared about before my own!” With that I left Ivar standing there in the balcony by himself, just like I had left him that night 4 years ago.

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

1 month ago...

“What do you need of me, my queen?” Freydis said to Aslaug. “Ivar and his brothers shall be visiting England fairly soon and I will need you to be my eyes and ears into everything that occurs there. I wish to know exactly what (y/n) and her husband have been up to, I hear that their union had been blessed with children. Find out more about them and if you ever get a chance, take this.” Aslaug says as she pull out a vial. “This will ensure your reign as Queen of Kattegat and will finally put an end to that Christian child. I do not care of she's miles away, while she breathes Ivar will never be yours. And he will never grow to be the man that I wish him to be.” Aslaug says with a cold heart and an even colder face. “But, she's of no danger to me. Ivar is mine and he always will be, its been fated by the gods themselves.” Freydis says giving the vile back. In that moment Floki comes out from the shadows. “I have lost all whom I care about, because of (y/n). Ragnar, Bjorn, Ivar and Helga have all turned their back on me because of her. I was forced to kill my own wife because of what she did in order to save this child. And you too will lose, if you do not comply with our demands.” He says whilst placing the vial back into Freydis’ palm. “You must do this if not for us, then for Ivar and all of the gods.” 

“I will...”

[traincat]

Hello! Love your Tumblr. I'm curious about something. Don't you think since OMD Peter's general attitude towards sex changed? It seems he is almost like a prude now, because for me in the comics back on 70's and 80's it was subtle understood he even engaged in casual sex. I mean, between the first kiss with MJ and their first time there wasn't even a date. And his first time with Gwen (Spider-Man: Blue) they weren't even in a relationship. What has changed?

This is a super interesting question because I never thought about it like that but I think you’re definitely onto something, although it’s hard for me to put my finger on what, and in writing this I’m not sure it’s a shift with Spider-Man specifically as more just how Marvel has shifted on the whole. As the world’s foremost Spider-Man-centric sexologist, I wouldn’t call Peter a prude post-OMD exactly -- he definitely was still having no strings sex with Felicia on multiple occasions, including some apparently frequent sexting:

(Web of Spider-Man v2 #11)

Which, like, two consenting single adults, nothing wrong with that. He was also definitely sleeping with Mockingbird during their brief relationship, especially when their connection is summed up at one point as purely physical. He has a one night stand with his roommate, Michele (of apparently no relation to MCU Michelle even though the name is RIGHT THERE), that ends disastrously. And while the circumstances of his relationship with Cindy are not the best (read: creepy as fuck, Dan Slott), it’s not like you can deny the sexual component to it. So I think the disparity on how Spider-Man comics treat Peter and sex pre- and post-BND kind of narrows down to two things, just spitballing here.

First is how odd his relationship with Carlie Cooper is compared to his other long running relationships. Not only were they extremely slow to get into it and even to simply kiss, it took ages for them to get into bed after that, which isn’t exactly Peter’s style traditionally. (I wouldn’t say he and MJ weren’t dating when they first slept together between Amazing Spider-Man #149 and #150, since we do see them go out on dates together -- like ASM #136 -- but I wouldn’t call them exclusive, either.) There’s a real lack of chemistry between him and Carlie compared to his other relationships, which, on the one hand, I think could easily be attributed to the fact that Carlie is the first serious relationship to follow on the heels of One More Day and so it was always going to feel unnatural because the pushback is just incredible: not only do the fans wants Peter back with Mary Jane, I’d say the very narrative spirit of Spider-Man wants Peter back with Mary Jane. This is his declared true love, his soulmate, the person he had a child with, someone with whom he shared a relationship so deep the devil wanted to own it -- and we’re measuring it up against his blossoming relationship with a brand new character with no established history, no previous reason fans should get attached. Both readers and the book, on a spiritual level, were just waiting with him to get back with Mary Jane, and so the relationship with Carlie just continually floundered because it couldn’t measure up to that level of history. It goes slow because the brakes are constantly being pumped.

(ASM #647) Also, when setting up your brand new Spider-Man relationship, it’s a little weird to feature their first kiss while she’s dressed up as his fan favorite ex, just saying. Not exactly setting up the clean slate insinuated by the text.

Then there’s the very first panel of the very first Brand New Day-only Spider-Man issue, Amazing Spider-Man #546:

What better way to confirm Peter is canonically single now than to have him awkwardly describing him making out with a girl in a club, huh. “It totally gives you the wrong impression” except, when single, Peter is a gigantic flirt, so. It goes back to rewriting the narrative of Peter as this nebbishe nerd and it’s just such a miracle he gets the girl -- the ultimate stereotypical comic nerd fantasy that you can be this unappreciated super genius who is also a slovenly mess, average looking at best, and through no effort on your own part, hot club girls are just gonna throw themselves at you. The relatable superhero recycled through the lens of comic book nerd stereotype. (Nobody should be proud about relating to this if they do. Women aren’t prizes for having been unappreciated all that time you were the smartest kid in 10th grade.)

I think the big difference in pre- and post-OMD sex scenes are they used to be fun. 

(Web of Spider-Man #36)

(ASM #298 -- frankly that they got this one past the censors is amazing.)

Now there’s always this frisson of guilt or wrongness attached: the weight of Peter’s previous relationships and his hidden identity with Carlie, who got his mask tattooed on her hip before their first time for Christ’s sake, his “I just can’t help myself” approach to having sex with Felicia while simultaneously keeping his identity re-hidden from her when we know that it actually did mean something to her to know it, the “spider-sides” dubious consent of he and Cindy, Lian using him for her own purposes, the fact that we knew things were never going to work between Peter and Bobbi. Even currently with Mary Jane, One More Day’s pact hangs over everything. It’s never just fun. And you can ascribe guilt to Peter in many situations, but having it hang over consensual sex I think sends a pretty dicey message. I mean, his actual affair with a married woman contained less weird moralizing than some of the above. So in writing all of this out I don’t think it’s that Peter specifically has gotten more prudish about sex, it’s that the series itself has. 

[lunanight2012]

A Tale as Old as Time? Part 5

Ok so first off, this story is now on my AO3!

It had been 3 months now since I woke up. And now Christmas was right around the corner. I had to be very sneaky with getting Harry's present.

Mom and Dad understood my reasons for wanting to stay at school during winter break. I mean Grandfather wasn't too keen on Harry, if he found out my plan he'd surely have an aneurism.

I was happy that Gil, Uma, Evie, Carlos, and Jay all managed to agree to my plan. So i had all of our friends at the school.

Sadly Jane couldn't stay, Fairy Godmother was taking her to Neverland for Christmas. Mal and Ben couldn't stay either, they had plans to visit all the neighboring kingdoms, as well as celebrating Christmas with Hades, Belle, and Beast.

My plan was to give Harry a family Christmas that he deserves. I got the presents from Chad and Gil hid them in his closet. They were presents from my mom, who I had been texting with for the last few months and she seemed to approve of Harry, Gil, and Uma. So she bought them each Christmas presents, as well as Mal, Evie, Carlos, and Jay. 

I made sure to give Mal her present before she left. Of course my mom got her a Dragon themed journal. 

"Oh my gosh! This is beautiful! Tell your mom that I love it!" Mal exclaimed, hugging me.

"I will! I'm sad that you won't be here for the surprise." I stated, frowning.

"I know! But it's my first Christmas with my father, you understand, don't you?" Mall asked, holding my hands in hers.

"Of course!" I exclaimed with a smile.

"Wonderful! Oh I have gifts for everyone. I left them with Evie." Mal explained with a wink.

"Thank you so much! You have a wonderful trip! Tell Ben I said Merry Christmas!" I exclaimed, hugging Mal.

I soon headed back to the dorms. Standing outside my dorm, I smiled at the sign:

Cindy Luna Charming

Harry Hook

Gil Gaston

I slowly opened the door and smiled at the boys.

"It's my turn with the remote!" Gil whined as the boys wrestled for the TV remote.

"Nah, it's my turn!" Harry argued, trying to keep the remote away from Gil.

I smiled and sat my bag on the bed and walked over to the couch and easily snatched the remote from Harry's hand and plopped down on the couch, turning it to the news.

"Love!!! We were gunna watch a movie!" Harry whined.

"No I wanted to watch the nature channel!" Gil whined.

"No, we need to watch the news, they're talking about the weather this week." I stated, turning up the volume as the boys moved to sit on either side of me, with Harry leaning his head on my shoulder.

"This week's weather is going to be a cold one folks! A major snow storm set to hit overnight. Covering most of the viewing area. If you have plans to visit family, better to leave now before the storm hits. Up to 2 feet of snow is predicted." The weather man explained.

"Snow!!" I exclaimed with a smile, my hair flaming a tiny bit from excitement.

"Snow? That's that white stuff that falls from the sky right?" Gil asked.

"Yea! Wait you guys didn't get snow on the Isle?" I asked looking between Harry and Gil.

"Nah, we never even got rain, just cloudy all the time." Harry explained, burying his face in my neck.

"Oh… wow, that's a little sad." I frowned, my hair sizzling out.

"Hey, don't be sad! We get to see it now! And Evie made all of us winter clothes already!" Gil exclaimed with a smile.

"That's good! Cause you both are going to need warm clothes!" I stated, looking at Harry.

"What?" 

"You do wear clothes that aren't really made to keep you warm." Gil stated, trying to hide behind me.

Harry held up his hook.

"Calm down love. He's not wrong. You wear a lot of tanks and sleeveless vests. Winter is a cold time of year. I mean look at what we're wearing compared to what you're wearing." I explained, gesturing to how me and Gil were wearing winter clothes, long sleeves and pants, and then gesturing to Harry who was wearing his favorite sleeveless tank that had an ashy looking skull on it and shorts.

"Okay, ye both have a point." Harry confessed, setting his hook down and burying his face in my neck.

"I can't help it if my Love is very warm!!" Harry whined, hugging my side.

I giggled. Wrapping my arms around him and letting one of my hands bury itself in his hair. I could feel him sighing with content as my fingers massaged his hair. My leather gloves then decided to catch in his hair.

"I'm sorry!" I apologized as I removed my hand from his hair, a whimper emanating from Harry.

"Oh Luna! How are your lessons with Hades going?" Gil asked.

"They're going great! He said that next time he'll show me how to use my ember." I explained, reaching into my top and pulling out a necklace that had a red and light blue rock on the end.

"Wow! That's really pretty!" Gil exclaimed, looking closely at my ember.

Suddenly Harry's Hook was in Gil's face.

"Back up bro! Ye gettin too friendly with my Cindy." Harry all but growled.

I sighed and easily took Harry's hook from him.

"And now you've lost your hook for the night." I stated, looking at Harry.

"He was staring at yer chest!" Harry exclaimed.

"Harry, you know I would never come between you and Luna!" Gil exclaimed.

Harry sighed before snuggling back into my side. "She's mine." 

I giggled then looked at the time. "You guys hungry? Uma said she was gunna make dinner for all of us tonight, with some help from Evie." I smiled as Gil jumped up.

"I'll meet you guys at the dining hall!" Gil exclaimed, grabbing his coat and leaving.

I giggled then looked down at Harry. I carefully removed one of my gloves. Trying to ignore the burn scars that covered the palm of my hand and carefully began to play with his hair.

It took Harry only a moment to realize I had taken off my glove. He lifted his head up, taking my hand out of his hair and pulling it to his mouth and kissing the palm of my hand.

"W-we should get going. Don't want Uma storming in and yelling at us." I stuttered as I gently removed my hand from his and got my glove back on.

"Cindy. Are you shy about your hands?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"You know I am. They look horrible!" I exclaimed, rubbing my hands together.

"Love, I don't care about that. I love you, all of you, scars and all." Harry exclaimed before he leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine.

A small moan escaped my lips as I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as we kissed. The kiss was so full of passion and love. 

"YOU TWO ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!" Uma shouted from down the hall, causing us to break our kiss.

"We should get going before Uma strangles us." I giggled, standing up.

Harry followed suit and held my hand in his as we walked out of the room, grabbing our coats as we headed to the dining hall.

Dinner was great, I hadn't had fish in a long time. Everyone seemed to be enjoying it. Carlos, Jay, Evie, Chad, Gil, Uma, Harry, and myself all sat at the table together.

I smiled at all my friends. I couldn't wait for Christmas. I was excited to spend it with the people I care about. I was mostly excited to give Harry a real Christmas. I had finished my gift for him earlier that day and thanks to both Uma and Evie it came out perfect.

Harry noticed that I was just playing with my food. He gently grabbed my free hand and squeezed it. I blinked and looked at him with a smile.

"Ya gunna finish that?" He teased.

I blushed and stabbed the last piece of fish with my fork and shoved it in my mouth.

"You two are perfect for each other, you know that?" Evie sighed happily.

"I could say the same thing about you and Doug." I teased.

Evie blushed and went back to her plate. The table had a good laugh before everyone turned in for the night. 

I got on my hook themed pjs and crawled under my covers, setting Harry's Hook on my nightstand as I curled up under my covers. I felt Harry crawl under the covers and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his chest, taking in the scent I love so much.

"I love ye Cindy." Harry whispered.

I smiled, I loved it when Harry called me by my first name, he was the only one I let call me that.

"I love you, Harold." I stated hearing his breath hitch at me saying his full first name.

He pulled me even closer and kissed the top of my head.

"I love it when you call me that!" Harry exclaimed in a whisper.

I giggled before slowly drifting off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~Christmas Eve~~~~~~~~~

I was so excited for tomorrow. The pirates' first christmas in Auradon. And I was determined to make it great! 

We already had snowball fights, me and harry made snow angels. I laughed at his because it has a very strange hand, then I laughed harder when I realized it was from Harry's hook.

Both Harry and I got colds and Gil, being the sweet guy he is, had to take care of us, with a bit of help from Carlos.

Right now I was dancing around the Dorm hall in my hook themed pjs, my Polaroid camera hanging from it's strap that was around my neck, as Harry chuckled.

"Yeh sure are excited about something Love." Harry chuckled.

"Tomorrow is Christmas day! And I'm going to make sure that you, Gil, and Uma have the best Christmas ever!" I exclaimed, doing a little twirl.

Harry chuckled, as he watched me take pictures of the hall.

"What are ye doin Love?" Harry asked with a smile as he walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Taking pictures of all the Christmas decorations!" I exclaimed, kissing his cheek as we continued heading towards the cafeteria.

Oh did I not mention? My loving pirate had glass slipper themed pj pants on. I love this man so much! Sigh! Oh right! The party is tomorrow!

I grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into the cafeteria, where everyone was waiting. 

Evie in her heart themed pjs, Carlos in dog paw print themed pjs, Jay had on sweatpants with the school's name on them, Uma was wearing a tank that said "We Ride With The Tide!" On it and a pair of sweatpants, and Gil's pjs had animals on them. Oh and of course Chad had on his usual pjs that had little Chad faces all over them.

"There you guys are!" Uma exclaimed as we walked over to the table.

"What's up?" I asked as my gloved hand grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl.

"We were discussing what we should do tonight? It's Christmas Eve!" Evie exclaimed as she pulled out a santa hat and placed it on Gil's head.

"We were also talking about everyone's sexuality!" Gil exclaimed with food in his mouth.

"Gil, don't talk with your mouth full." I giggled, patting his head.

"What brought on the conversation about everyone's sexuality??" Harry asked as he sat on the other side of me.

"I was curious." Uma explained, shrugging.

"Turns out Evie and Uma are Bisexual, Jay is too. Carlos is straight, so is Chad, and I'm a Demi...demisexual. It means I can't fall in love unless I've known the person a long time and gain a bond with them…" Gil explained, eating more.

"Well I'm bisexual." I admitted, smirking at the girls.

"I'm Pansexual." Harry stated as he threw an arm over my shoulders.

"What's that?" Gil questioned.

"It means I don't have a preference. Race, gender, age, appearance, all those types of things, I don't have a preference." Harry explained as he leaned down and took a bite of my apple, causing me to glare at him.

"My apple!" I pouted playfully.

Harry chuckled and kissed my cheek. "It's a delicious apple love! Now what about tonight?" Harry pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist and setting his chin on my shoulder.

"We were thinking about putting on some old Christmas movies and watching them in the recreation room. We were gunna take some couches from there and gather them up to make a kind of cinema so we can watch the movies projected onto the wall, courtesy of Carlos." Evie explained.

"Sounds like a plan! I'll grab the blankets and pillows from our room, Chad can you grab yours as well?" I asked with a smile.

"Of course!" Chad exclaimed rushing to his room.

We all got a good laugh at that.

[pixie-skull]

AU Disney Heroines # 1: Feelings at First Pride Parades

MINOR UPDATE ON JUNE 22ND, ADDED GIFS AND NOT GOING TO ALWAYS. XD ALSO ITALIZED IS ADDED.

Before I go, yes I am going to attempt to make this open to anyone, but this creator wants more LGBTQ+ AUs, so this one just if you and x character went and the character's thoughts. Please share your thoughts if this good or not in my ask box? :D Here are the rules too.

Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs): Snow would a bit overwhelmed, but hold your hand or shoulder the whole time, yet be excited about the floats commenting on the outfits and colors. Funny enough she brought the Seven dwarfs too, so she had a group to go to encase, it was her first Pride. (yet yes bring friends, going alone is a lot and @myhollie1911 thought of you when writing Snow’s part, plus Aurora)

Cinderella (Cinderella): Cindy would have made you and her cute patches and other tiny things and hide it from her step-mother because she would worry they be torn apart.

Aurora (Sleeping Beauty): Inspired by the splattered of her gown (you told about her it), she asked her aunts (I headcanon the Faries as a polyamorous relationship and her aunt like figures XP ) to make her Pride outfit have a similar effect and loves to show off to you shyly.

Jessica Rabbit (Who Framed Roger Rabbit): Outside people somewhat flirting to her, you two had a blast. You even saw her mood boost at the asexual* float and she buys herself an ace flag, which she wore as a cape.  (*=Many headcanon Jessica Rabbit as ace)

Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Ariel asks you and even strangers what the flags used mean and how to apply to them, but everyone can tell in a good place, not in a “you are just your sexuality and/or gender”. Funny enough she goes on a ramble on what her underwater kingdom events similar to Pride are like. Her sisters even came to support her. :D (Again can not stress how important it is to not go to alone, you be overwhelmed, but if want to, all the power to you. :D)

Belle (Beauty and the Beast): Belle is excited about the historical aspects and compares how far the LGBTQ+ Community got. You encourage her to see other parts of the parade too, but it is so adorable how she reads all these plaques, gather zines, and listen to a guest speaker. The friends from the castle and Lefou with his boyfriend had so much fun. 

Jasmine (Aladdin): Jasmine trusts you to show you around and if does have questions, is both comfortable and excited to be the one to ask. You find it so cute when the animal floats come how she telling she wants all the cats shown.

Pocahontas (Pocahontas): Similar to Snow White is quite at first, but unlike her, Pocahontas excited to see be part of the events, like she would rush to impulsively to floats where people brought their pets and ask if can pet them. She does stay quite though, however it is because she loves seeing the color of the flags in the wind.

Esmeralda (The Hunchback of Notre Dame): As a performer and enjoys to be part of the show and finds as many activities to do. She is even happy to see Jolly and Hugo being a cute dogs couple. So much when won a raffle for open mic she speaks about how in her experience religion has been supportive of the LGBTQ+ Community, after all, “Aren’t we Children of God”.

Megara (Heracles): Meg may seem distant about the idea, but she teases “like Ancient Greece, anything Gay Pride-related tends to be for the men”. However, she goes and has fun, even warms up to being more vocal in her pride. ( @sailorzelda94)

Mulan (Mulan): You are shocked Mulan never gone to Pride, but at other peer events always show interest in the Parades. Her friends' joke she should be a Drag King and named Ping, but drag is something she has mixed feelings. However, you both go and her friends all have fun and even though have significant others or girlfriends*, the men want to show support for their fellow war buddies. (*=Mulan II)

Jane Porter (Tarzan): Jane always seems too busy if helping her father’s study, her own work/art, or a combo. Finally being free you take her and she is dazed in awe and wonder the whole time. She jokes “is it called Pride for like a jungle there so much life here”. She does not do anything too dress-up for the event, but you know she comfortable with who she is, and everyone once in a while you kiss her to show much she means to you.

Kida (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): Kida so excited and even wears what looks like a 70′s biker and you can not help love how enthusiastic for the bikers. She does not fulfill the stereotypical image of someone in such attire, but she just loves the community aspect of Pride events. Even asks you questions of how she can introduce it to her family/kingdom.

Audrey (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): Audrey goes in a causal “butch” outfit and her demi jacket is adorned with all the cute little LGBTQ+ buttons you get her and she finds, but at Pride, she sees so many, she jokes she buys a second demi jacket and only for pride, only she goes does that.

Helga (Atlantis: The Lost Empire): Very quiet about it, but has a tiny smirk the whole time as she waves her rainbow flag when floats go by. She does sometimes act a bit aggressive when someone by accident hits on you, she punched an old man in the upper jaw. (thought of @mccoppinscrapyard)

Nani (Lilo and Stich): Nani has a lot of fun and even feels she kinda loosen up, even though Lilo and Stich are both acting up a few times, you help relax them, so she can have a day to herself. She does tease “now I understand why Lilo does not like loud noises, it is a lot here, even for me” * and you hug her, with the other two hugging her to calm her down. Stich even acts as a good makeshift guide dog. (*=I and many headcanon Lilo as on the autism spectrum.)

Tiana (The Princess and the Frog): Tiana does not mind the parade, but kinda wished she had a booth where she can sell food and cool beverages on this hot day. Luckily though again she has fun and brought Lottie and her significant other, so a makeshift double date. You do enjoy Lottie helps make the event more fun.

Charlotte or Lottie (The Princess and the Frog): As stated before, having a blast and loves the double date. She can not get enough of the scene and “sings” to the songs playing, even if clearly not remembering the words. She is aware of pink triangles history, but she a pink princess, she has to get all the pink. Luckily she even spoiled you, Tiana, and Tiana’s significant other.

Rapunzel (Tangled): Rapunzel was so shy in leaving her “tower” or room, but you reassured her you be there and no one going to judge because it is a fun place of community and celebration. She ends up going, but of course, being the artist she is, she painted both her (with help of the mirror) and your face in the colors of your respected flag. Even after Pride she wanted to go and joked “what if I got a super short haircut and dye it?” and you smiled, which she took as a yes, but kissed you unexpectedly, and you held her in your arms.

Merida (Brave): Funny enough she wanted to see the following then leave; The Bear Float, Dykes on Bikes, and find something to get her parents. Luckily she enjoyed more and more, but you could tell she wants you to remember those top things, and luckily she got them and more. Merida, not the most public affectionate person, but tiny moments like holding your hand you enjoyed.

Anna (Frozen): Unlike Merida, Anna is an affectionate bunny rabbit, plus wanted to see as much she could and even brought her camera and took plenty of photos. Her sister and friends were thankful you keep her anchored because of her hype.

Elsa (Frozen): Elsa was shy because she still feels freshly out and not sure if she wants people to prejudge her for something she can not help but be. Luckily she warmed up (ha ha puns) and even danced on the way home with Anna, both saying how much they appreciate having the other in their life.

Moana (Moana): Moana and her friend Maui had fun at mainly the floats, with him letting her sit on his shoulders. Even when eating the two have fun interactions with strangers, one both enjoyed to hand-wrestle with and dubbed him as “Mr. Shiny”.

---

So how was that? :D I am actually glad to do something for Pride Month, so I hope to this for the other fandoms and their AUs, yet in the meantime, please share what you think, suggestions for other AUs, feedback on this, and HAPPY PRIDE! =D P.s. I am not sure if I keep all listed, so please be aware some AUs I struggle to think up stuff.

[your-guide-to-music]

Your guide to: George Michael

Welcome to your guide to: George Michael! This guide is designed to help anyone looking to explore his music with getting started. The guide covers his background and history surrounding both Wham! And his solo career, and also the music produced during these periods. It is a long guide, as is every guide that will go on this blog but it’s meant to give a very in depth view of the artist and help new fans get to know who they really are. I may update this in the future so if you have anything you want added or have any questions, just let me know!

Background and history

So first off, just like the last guide, I’m going to give a bit of background info on who George Michael is - George was a British pop star who found fame in the early 1980’s as part of a duo with Andrew Ridgeley, a friend he met during his teenage years. He was born Georgios Kyriacos Panayiotou in East Finchley, London in 1963 and moved to Hertfordshire in his early teens.

To date, George has had a combined 9 studio & compilation albums go to #1 within Wham! and his solo career. His first two albums inside Wham! - Fantastic and Make It Big both hit the top spot in the UK and although these are the only albums released in the UK, there is a third album called Music From the Edge of Heaven. Music From The Edge of heaven was not released in the UK, but it was in North America and Japan, where it’s peak position landed at #10. The album includes tracks such as the hit ‘I’m Your Man’ and ‘Edge of Heaven’ which both hit #1 in the UK.

In terms of his solo work, these are all his albums to go to #1. LWP Vol.1 actually hit the top spot twice after its reissue in 2017.

The Wham! Era (1981-1986) - Wham were a pop duo formed by friends George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley. The group began in 1981 and initially signed to Innervision records after the boys sent a homemade tape to record labels. George acted as Lead Vocalist, Composer and Producer with Andrew primarily acting as guitarist and backing vocalist.

Alongside the duo were backing dancers Shirley Holliman (Who would go on to become Shirley Kemp, the wife of Spandau Ballet’s Martin Kemp) and Dee C. Lee, though Lee left early on to work as part of the group ‘The Style Council’ with Paul Weller, and was replaced by Helen ‘Pepsi’ DeMacque. After Wham!’s split in 1986, the girls would go on to form their own duo called Pepsi and Shirley, spanning songs such as Heartache and Goodbye Stranger.

The first record released by Wham! was the upbeat ‘Wham Rap (Enjoy What You Do)’ in August 1982, reaching #8 on the UK charts, it is arguably one of the band’s most well-known songs. The next single was Young Guns (Go For It), released in October 1982 and reaching #3 in the UK charts. This forecast further success for Wham! and in June 1983, they released their debut album - Fantastic. The album hit #1 and things only went up from there. Other hit singles from this album include the ever memorable Club Tropicana and Bad Boys which hit #4 and #2 respectively.

The second album released by Wham! was Make It Big, by this time they had moved to Epic Records after disputes with Innervision. The album was released in November 1984 and was accompanied by 3 #1 singles - Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go, Freedom and Careless Whisper (That last one is actually a George Michael solo song as you all probably know but it is credited to Wham! featuring George Michael. George put Andrew on the writing credits so he wouldn’t have to worry about money as he’d always get royalties from that song.) They almost had a Christmas #1 in 1984 with their classic ‘Last Christmas’, but were beat to the top spot by Band Aid, a venture George was also a part of. The royalties from LC went to the Ethiopian Famine Appeal to coincide with the fund-raising efforts of Band Aid.

In 1985, Wham! became the first western group to have a 10 day visit to China on their world tour. They played a concert at the People’s Gymnasium in Beijing for 12,000 people and a further concert in Canton for 5,000 people. Footage from their tour was featured in the video for Freedom and the tour attracted mass media attention, keeping Wham! at the height of success.

In 1986, George released a second solo song - A Different Corner. This song is always bittersweet to listen to for me, and it was a big success just like Careless Whisper was 2 years earlier. It was around this time that breakup rumours began to circle and Wham! officially announced their disbandment after the release of Music From the Edge of Heaven and a compilation album of their singles called ‘The Final’. A sell-out 8 hour farewell concert by the same name of the compilation album followed and the last Wham! single ‘Edge of Heaven’ reached #1 in June 1986.

The solo years (1987-2016) - In January 1987, a duet between George and Aretha Franklin - I Knew You Were Waiting (for me) - was released. The song was another success for George and it hit #1 in both UK and US charts. This was the third solo #1 he’d had before his debut album was even released.

His debut album, Faith, was released in the UK on October 30th. The album has now well-known classics of George’s discography such as Faith, I Want Your Sex, Father Figure and One More Try. This album spent 12 weeks at #1 in the US and stayed in the UK charts for 92 consecutive weeks. Furthering it’s success, Faith won the Grammy for Album of The Year in 1989 and George embarked on a world tour in support.

It’s no secret (now) that George was unhappy during this time, and in fact at future various times of his career too. The very execution of Faith, including the promotion and touring for it, left him exhausted. At the same time, George was battling with his sexuality and had been for some time which only contributed to his opposement to promotion and the press in general in the future.

In 1990, his second album - Listen Without Prejudice Vol.1 - was released. This album is personally my favourite, George had moved away from the cute little teen idol image he was in Wham! and was starting to pursue a more serious image. The album includes notable tracks such as Freedom ‘90 and Praying For Time and George refused to do any promotion for it.

Freedom ‘90 is particularly notable for its music video, which featured some of the biggest supermodels in the world at the time. He didn’t appear in the music video at all and instead had Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Christy Turlington, Cindy Crawford and Tatjana Patitz lip-syncing to the song, inspired by this photo from the cover of Vogue Magazine. George would work with Linda Evangelista again for the video of ‘Too Funky’, as well as other supermodels such as Tyra Banks.

The 90’s brought a lot of struggles with it for George, he entered a long battle with Sony over his rights as an artist and he lost his partner, Anselmo Feleppa, as well as his mother.

The battle with Sony was tough to say the least. George argued that Sony had failed to promote his latest album LWP Vol.1 properly as punishment for his choice to downplay his sex symbol image. Sony, on the other hand, argued that it was George’s refusal to appear in promotion for the album that caused the poor performance compared to Faith.

Sony ultimately won the lawsuit and George remained trapped in his contract, something he referred to as ‘professional slavery’. It wasn’t until 1995 that Sony sold George’s contract to Virgin Records and DreamWorks Records, freeing him from the confinements he detested so heavily.

In 1991, George performed Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me at his Wembley Arena show with Elton again, this version was recorded and released, reaching #1 in the UK and US.

That same year we sadly lost one of the best musicians I personally think we’ve ever seen. Freddie Mercury was an incredible man on and off stage, and in 1992 a tribute concert was held in his memory. George attended this concert as a performer and sang queen hits such as Somebody To Love and These Are The Days of Our Lives with Lisa Stansfield.

It was during this time that George discovered Anselmo had been diagnosed with AIDS, the same thing that took Freddie from us, and was feeling not only the hurt from losing one of his idols, but also distraught from understanding he was potentially going to lose his partner.

Anselmo died in March 1993 after a long battle with AIDS. This severely hurt George and led him further into a state of depression and grief. Because of the battle going on with Sony, George wouldn’t release another album until 1996.

Older is, arguably, his best work. After all the pain he had experienced and the struggles he had gone through in recent years, he came back with a strong album that included the hit song ‘Jesus To a Child’, dedicated to Anselmo. Other songs such as Spinning The Wheel and Fastlove Pt. 1 highlights the danger of AIDS and explore the notion of love without commitment.

Looking back, I think it is relatively easy to see the real messages in the music. I think back when these albums were released it probably wasn’t as widely considered and so few were looking for the real messages, just looking at the music but not observing.

In 1997, George also lost his mother to cancer, just 4 years after losing his Partner. I have to say, George created some amazing music during this decade and I believe he came out stronger for going through these things but it’s hard to deny that this was an incredibly difficult time for him and I often wonder how he did it.

1998 was the year George’s sexuality was finally revealed in a more than subtle way. He was arrested in Beverly Hills in April of that year for ‘Engaging in a lewd act’ in a public restroom located at the Will Rogers Memorial Park. The arrest was part of a sting operation using ‘Pretty Police’, the arresting officer involved in the incident was Marcelo Rodríguez and as a result of the publicity, it was soon known that George was gay (not that it was any of our business anyway).

1998 also saw the release of his first solo greatest hits album entitled ‘Ladies and Gentlemen: the best of George Michael’. The album included some new songs such as ‘Outside’, the first single which made fun of his April arrest, and a duet with Mary J Blige singing a cover of Stevie Wonder’s ‘As’. The album had to be released through Sony as per the contract severance terms from 1995 and the album reached #1 in the UK, staying there for 8 weeks and making it one of the best selling albums of all time in the UK.

George’s next album came a year later - Songs From The Last Century. This album was completely covers with no original work, songs such as Roxanne (originally performed by The Police) and The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (originally performed by Peggy Seeger) and hit #2 in the UK charts.

Now we’re getting into the 2000’s, the decade in which some of my favourite George Michael songs came to life. I’m 2000 he recorded a duet with Whitney Houston which was going to feature Michael Jackson instead of her at first. He began working on his 5th studio album this year and it was released in 2003.

The album, ‘Patience’, had its first single released in March 2002 and what a single it was. Titled ‘Freeek!’, the song was far, far away from the usual wham! Sound. Georgie had grown up and we were not allowed to forget it. Unfortunately I’ve hit the photo limit for this post but I suggest you watch the music video below if you want an idea of what I’m talking about.

https://youtu.be/VLnYPXTs9LY

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The next single was quite controversial, it’s called Shoot The Dog and the lyrics criticise UK Prime Minister Tony Blair and US President George W. Bush in the run up to the 2003 Iraq invasion. He also recorded a version of Don McLean’s ‘The Grave’ and performed it on various music programmes, gaining further controversy but praise from Don.

In 2003, George resigned to Sony despite the history between them. Patience was released in 2004 and became one of the fastest selling albums in the UK, selling over 200,000 copies in its first week alone. A number of other singles were released from this album including Amazing, Flawless, Round Here and John and Elvis Are Dead.

The next piece of work from George came in 2006 titled simply ‘Twenty Five’. It marked George’s 25th year in the music world from the time Wham! begun and debuted at #1 in the UK. It was a compilation album, much like the greatest hits from 1998 but this time it included songs from Wham! as well as his solo work. It also debuted some new songs such as An Easier Affair and a new version of Heal The Pain featuring Paul McCartney.

To celebrate the album, George also went on a tour titled The 25 Live tour. The tour consisted of 80 shows and was watched by approximately 1.3M fans. A tour DVD was released featuring his shows at Earl’s Court, London and I definitely suggest watching it, it’s a very good show.

In 2008, George released what is considered to be his first Christmas song since recording Last Christmas with Wham! 24 years earlier. December Song was released to the fans free of charge with George hoping the fans would make a donation instead to a charity.

Now we enter the 2010’s, some of the last years of George’s life. He started his Symphonica tour in August 2011, singing mainly songs from his album Patience and Songs From The Last Century.

In November, the rest of the tour was rescheduled as he became dreadfully ill with Pneumonia whilst in Vienna, even going comatose at one point. Thankfully, he pulled through and even made an appearance at the closing ceremony of the 2012 Olympics.

On August 25th 2012, George released a song called ‘White Light’, inspired by his battle with pneumonia and near-death experience during it. The song got it’s live debut at the 2012 olympics closing ceremony and reached #15 on the UK charts.

The Symphonica tour resumed and finished in October 2012 at Earl’s Court, marking George’s last ever concert.

Symphonica got released as a live album in March 2014 and became George’s 7th #1 solo album in the UK. George’s team announced in November 2016 that there was a documentary titled ‘Freedom’ that would be released in March 2017 but due to the sudden death of George, it was pushed back to October 2017 instead. I really suggest you watch this documentary as it’s very informative about his journey.

LWP got a reissue at the same time and Freedom ‘90 was released as a 7” single in limited numbers to coincide with the documentary and reissue. September 2017 saw the release of a new version of Fantasy featuring Nile Rodgers. At this time, we’ve not had any more new music but have been advised there is some coming. Georgie’s family and estate update us from time to time (see link below, this where all updates are usually posted)

In 2017 I and countless other Lovelies spent a week straight streaming and buying the Last Christmas single, we wanted to get it to #1 for George as it had been a year since he passed but unfortunately somehow despite our efforts, the song was a non-mover and stayed at #3. To this day I’m suspicious about that as there were so many of us streaming and buying etc. That I don’t understand how it could possibly have not moved. But anyway, we tried and George would be proud of us even if it didn’t work.

The music

Okay, well... that was the history of George Michael. Now all we really have left to do is go through the albums (I’m omitting compilation albums though, and giving special mentions to songs not on studio albums instead) and pick out some underrated and favourite songs. I’m going to include his Wham! days in this as it seems only right to, he was a brilliant solo artist but it’s important we recognise where he started.

Fantastic - Bad Boys, Wham Rap (Enjoy What You Do), Club Tropicana and Young Guns (Go For It!)

Make it big - Freedom, Credit Card Baby, Everything She Wants, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Music From The Edge of Heaven - I’m Your Man, Edge of Heaven, Where Did Your Heart go?, A Different Corner, Blue

Faith - Monkey, One More Try, Father Figure, Hand To Mouth, Faith, Kissing a Fool

LWP Vol.1 - Praying For Time, They Won’t Go When I Go, Cowboys and Angels, Freedom ‘90, Mother’s Pride

Older - Spinning The Wheel, You Have Been Loved, Star People, The Strangest Thing

Songs From The Last Century - Secret Love, My Baby Just Cares For Me, Roxanne, The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

Patience - Freeek! ‘04, My Mother Had a Brother, Amazing, Flawless (Go To The City), Shoot The Dog

Special mentions: An Easier Affair, White Light, Outside, Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me (with Elton John, I can’t make you love me, Killer/Papa was a rolling stone, Somebody To Love (From the Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert 1992)

And we’re finished! That was your guide to George Michael, if you have any questions or want me to add/correct anything then please let me know. Like I said I’ll probably update this in future so it’s worth checking back from time to time. Thank you for reading this far, if you have!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I would absolutely love to work on those GIFs for you. Please send me all the ideas you have. I re-watched the series a couple of months ago and have some things in mind, but I think I need to refresh again. So yes, your ideas on the transgenics and anything else. Helps me get started on it. Thanks for the reblog and I will try and get the Max and Logan one out soon. You can reply to this with your ideas!

Oh my gosh. Thank you so much! And sorry in advance if I go overboard with this. Hahaha. And if I do, feel free to ignore me and only do the ones of these you want:)

I’ve actually done a few screenshot Dark Angel things that aren’t the greatest. So if you wanted to remake some of those as gifs, I wouldn’t mind at all. https://oveliagirlhaditright.tumblr.com/post/188483190012/i-know-brainiac-is-arguably-the-most-hated, https://oveliagirlhaditright.tumblr.com/post/186108463327/i-saw-alec-saying-the-move-your-furniture-thing.

And then some other ideas I had… uhh. It’d be cute–if you wanted to, I mean–if you gifed all the times Max and Logan held hands, or almost kissed… Or to do a comparison gifset between when Max says in the finale season of season one (And Jesus Brought a Casserole) “I’d kiss you, but I have to keep my head in the game”, with her in season two saying to Logan (Proof of Purchase): “Thanks, Logan. I’d hug you, but-”

Max kind of posing with the pool stick and smiling after Logan says he’s at Crash to see her in Fugheddaboutit is really cute. And so is the scene in Harbor Lights when they’re just smiling at each other when Max is in the hospital bed. Or when Max is telling Logan, in Gill Girl, how she wants this story to have a happy ending… and you can just tell he knows–without her saying it–that she wants the merepeople to have a happy ending, since they can’t right now. And before that in Gill Girl, when Logan is calling Max… and then hears her ringtone in his apartment, and then sees her coming in with a mermaid slung over her shoulder as she says “I’ll hit you back later!” That was funny. 

Logan’s speech about how it never mattered to him what Max was in Love Among the Runes is good, as is the whole scene when he’s sticking up for the transgenics that they do have souls, in Dawg Day Afternoon. And if you wanted to do a “Logan character development” post you could, in comparing Haven (”How can I even think of having a good time, when the man who orchestrated the shootings was a cop… and he not only got away with it, but got promoted for it, too?!”) with Proof of Purchase (”Well, you can only fight corruption for son long before you have to kick back and relax.”)

You could also do Max character development ones if you wanted! Like, in the Pilot when she’s telling Logan that people are looking to kill her, put her in a cage, or turn her into a science experiment or all three… and that she’s gotten by through keeping her head down and wants to keep it that way, and not help people… with the season two finale (Freak Nation), where she’s saying “Where will you go? I can’t force anyone to stay. But I’m tired of running, hiding, and being afraid. Aren’t you tired of running? Of being in being in darkness? Don’t you want to feel the sun on your face? It’s time to make a stand, right here and right now. They created us, and it’s time that they owned up to that instead of trying to sweep us away like garbage” and that sort of thing. Or how in the Pilot (even though she’s partially lying here) when she tells Logan that she doesn’t blame herself at all for what happened to him, and that it’s on him “one-hundred percent”. But then in Meow she and Original Cindy have this conversation: Cindy: The truth is, you love Logan. Max: We’re not even like that, and the fact is we both would have been better off if we’d never even meet. Cindy: Please. Max: He has to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair because of me. Cindy: I didn’t see you on TV, pulling no trigger. Max: Yeah, but I could’ve protected him and I didn’t and that’s on me “one-hundred percent”.

I also love how Max and Logan give each other a piece that the other was missing: Logan suggesting that Max choose a birthday (C.R.E.A.M), and then her giving him back his mother’s locket in Art Attack. Or also how I think it was in Max going to the wedding with Logan in Art Attack, that she finally chose a last name for herself “Guevara”, and then began using it from then on out.

I once did a screenshot post (that I’ve since deleted), of Charlie telling Case the “storybook” version of Tinga’s life (this happens in Hit A Sista Back) that she’d told Charlie and Case (that neither of them had any idea was real at first), paired with Max incredulously saying to Bling about Logan in 411 on the DL, “I’ll go over and read him a bedtime story.” And then after that, I put Charlie telling Max and Logan in Hit A Sista Back, how he didn’t regret any of the time that he had with Tinga… and he’s essentially telling Max and Logan to get together there… and you can kind of tell by the way they’re looking at each other, that maybe they want this “bedtime story” for themselves, too. And if you wanted to remake this, you totally could:)

I also did another post in the past, that you could remake… Where Max says to Logan in C.R.E.A.M, that she’s surprised a high-minded, leftist, idealist like him would be okay with her greasing the enemies… and then paired it with her saying (in Prodigy) that she isn’t as high-minded as Logan is, with the idea that life is good and murder is bad, so she should have just let Lydecker go for that reason.

The scene where Original Cindy is talking to Max about Diamond at the end of Shorties in Love is really good overall, and is speaking of both the Max/Logan and Original Cindy/Diamond relationships, that could be cool to see gifed:)

You could also do a Max and Original Cindy comparison, where Max has to touch Logan’s hand through glass in Proof of Purchase and Original Cindy has to do that with Diamond in Shorties in Love.

Speaking of, any Original Cindy content–like with her and Max–would be awesome. I personally love the scene where they’re dunking the guy in the hot tub in Art Attack, being such a team, to get information out of him.

Gifs of Max being smart and a badass would also be great.

And just anything with Tinga, Brin, Syl, Jace, Jondy, and Mia would make me so happy.

You could even do a gifset that explains where the name of the show comes from: “Forever eyes, dark. Somebody’s angel” (the poem Logan made for Max in Shorties in Love) and Art Attack. Guy that Max Saves from Jumping Off a Building: “You’re the messenger, right?” Max: “Yeah?” Guy: “Well, I’ve never been much of a believer before… but you personally coming here to straighten me out like this. Thank you”. Max, smiling: “I’ll see about getting you that package back” (he thought she was an angel).

So these are just some of the crazy Dark Angel ideas I have. Feel free to use any or none of them. And thank you so much again:) And if you need me to try and explain any of this better, I can.

Edit: You could also gif what I believe is the closest we ever got to Max and Logan saying they were together in this series (aside from the times they told each other “I love you”, I mean. Or at least started to say it). Max saying angrily in “Boo” after Rafer insinuated Logan was her ex: “He’s not my ex! …I mean, we’re not like that.” And then Mia asking Logan in “Fugheddaboutit”: “You’re Max’s boyfriend, right?” And him saying, “Something like that.” You could also maybe have fun gifing all the times they said the ridiculous “we’re not like that” line, and then prove how untrue that was. LOL.

Edit 2: I also loved the scenes we got that showed how much Max and Logan knew each other, and that they got to know each other even moreso in scenes we didn’t see. Like when Max is sad in one episode (though I don’t remember which one it is), that he sold a painting his grandmother had given him, I think, to try and find a cure for the Virus (and we hadn’t known that painting was from his grandmother before this). Or when in Gill Girl, Max knows so much about people in Logan’s family–like Bitsy–and is talking about them with him, even though the audience had never heard of them before. Or in Some Assembly Required, when Logan knew how much Zack being alive would mean to Max and is gently and somewhat excitedly telling her, “You’re brother’s alive, Max.” …And really, just how kind Logan was to Zack actually says a lot about his love for Max, since Zack was always cruel to him (and I say this as a Zack Stan).

Edit 3: You could also do a Space Needle journey: Max on the Space Needle in the Pilot, Max asking Logan about going on the Space Needle in Heat, but him refusing since he’s scared of heights… Them almost going together at the end of Rising, but not for some reason… And then them finally getting there on Jesus Brought a Casserole together, and then Logan alone on the Space Needle at the end of And Jesus Brought a Casserole–echoing what Max said in the Pilot. Also, speaking of Max and Logan being on top of buildings: Max being on top of Logan’s penthouse in the Pilot, and Logan being on top of it in She Ain’t Heavy (as it seems he finally got over his fear of heights).

Edit 4: Gifs of Max interacting with kids could also be cool, since she loved them.

[transboygenius]

Nick Dean is gay

Y'all remember reading my trans Jimmy Neutron headcanon post, right? While trans headcanons have 10 out of 10,000 chances of being official, here's another headcanon, with a character from the same series, that could possibly be true. Here are the reasons:

Nick is not really fond of girls. 

He would smile at them, wink, fingerguns, even flirt with them for just a second, but he always ends up ignoring the dames. He doesn't even indulge their presence. Cindy is the only girl he’s ever interacted with the most, but he still gives her the cold shoulder afterwards. Sure, he was about to accept a date with her, only because she was offering one free concert ticket to him. By the second and third season, he no longer speaks to her. He seems to prefer the company of guys, and takes more effort talking to them than the girls. He likes to brag about how pretty and awesome he is, but he’s never bragged about the girls he easily attracts, which is something a ladies’ man usually does. Nick doesn’t even talk about girls, either. It seems he doesn’t really care about them.

“Well, he seemed to be into Betty Quinlan in Out Darn Spotlight! uwu!” He. Was. Acting. Fucking acting. That rehearsal didn’t define any romantic chemistry between him and Betty, other than a fake one. Besides, the look on his face backstage where he shifts an eye to her, he looked like he was uncomfortable, even putting on a forced-looking smile. He’s brave enough to kiss girls, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He kissed a girl, and he hated it!

The signs

Some of them may come off as stereotypical. He screams like a girl, he doesn’t sit in chairs properly, despite his bad boy image he actually likes participating in lighthearted musicals, he’s obsessed with how his hair looks, and he adores cutesy stuff. It is also implied that he is secretly insecure with himself and doesn’t like to show his softer side to anyone. It could very well be a closet case. Also, on Evil Jimmy’s earth, there dwells an “Evil Nick”, who is popular but as a bully’s victim. Butch, who’s supposedly his friend on Jimmy’s regular Earth, is still a bully in that world and now an enemy to Nick. This could reflect how gay kids experience more bullying than straight kids.

How he’s mistreated

Whatever the reason it might be to cut Nick out of the show and then turning him into a chew toy, maybe Nick was gay afterall. It can’t be another one of those tropes where the cool kid becomes the loser. Even when Nick was still popular, he still wasn’t handled equally like the other main characters, which he used to be considered one. Libby, not yet adapted into a main by then, had more screentime than him. Not having much lines and lack of character development has made him into an obscure character. 

Word of advice: Never trust cishets to hand you queer representation on a silver platter. Let’s take Netflix’s Voltron for example. Oh, Voltron, I hate you so much. The show has become infamous to the LGBTQ+ community for its queerbaiting, forced heterosexuality, and supporting the Bury Your Gays trope. Shiro, the token gay character who stays alive, has suffered some shit. He’s been tormented numerous times, put up with depression worst than any of the other characters faced, and lost his arm. He later gets a male fiancé at the end of the series, but we never get the chance to meet, or see, said fiancé.

How convenient that Nick is akin with all the signs that make him gay, and here he is now! Not treated like he’s any important as the other characters, the butt of bad luck, and breaks his leg all the time. This is a show that glorifies the hetero agenda, “if a little girl picks on a little boy, or vice versa, it means love!”

His character was inspired by a gay actor

According to the Words of Satan (cuz John Davis is no God to me), Nick Dean is based on and named after the legend James Dean, an actor best known for his many bad boy roles. He was also gay himself. Actually, we don’t really know whether James Dean was inherently gay or bi. He dated women publicly, but dated men privately, as well as confirmed to having sexual relationships with them. One day, he had plans to marry a woman, but some point later on, he blew off that engagement. He claimed himself he’s not gay, although, James could either mean “I’m not homosexual. But I’m not heterosexual either,” or maybe he was lying. All those women could’ve just been public decoys. 

Nick possibly has a crush on Jimmy

I said so before that Nick prefers the company of boys, but he seems to respect Jimmy more than anybody else. He openly appreciates him and doesn’t mind being his friend, despite how unlovable the boy genius may come off to most people. Nick doesn’t talk to Cindy anymore in the two last seasons, but would still speak to Jimmy. Sure, there’s the teasing, the dehumanization of addressing him by his surname only, and that one bit where he threw him into a dumpster. Hey, Nick didn’t treat him worse than Cindy did. Besides, his teasing is more friendlier in compare.

In the movie, Jimmy desperately wanted to go out to RetroLand, but is stuck on a school’s night. Nick rolls in and offers him a life hack. It’s not a very good life hack, but at least he actually cared to let Jimmy have some fun. Aliens abducting your parents is probably the most laughable assumption. The children were still skeptical over Jimmy’s hypothesis, due to how ridiculous it sounds, and Nick could’ve had the opportunity to make everyone laugh with him. Instead, he went with the plan, even telling Jimmy to lead on. He was especially still positive about Jimmy’s space trip plan even when he declared they had a 5% chance of blowing up. The only time he was negative towards Jimmy was in the dungeon scene. Cindy did make a point. Everyone was sad and scared. At the end of the film, he gave Jimmy his sucker as a token of gratitude. Something that was in his mouth, and he gave it to him. (Sounds like an in-direct kiss to me)

Think about it. If Nick really was in love with Betty, he would’ve have gotten in Jimmy’s face and threaten him to stay away from getting in between him and his girl, but he didn’t. He didn’t even threaten Jimmy after showering a rain cloud on him. Hell, he wasn’t even bummed out about loosing that kiss from Betty after breaking his leg.

Nick was the only one to call out Jimmy’s name, well, last name that is, during the Superman passage in Attack of the Twonkies. “It’s a bird!” “It’s a plane!” “It’s Neutron!” Although Nick picked Jimmy last in basketball, at least he picked him. The “last guy standing” challenge usually ends with one of the rivaling team picking someone else instead of that very last person. There’s a lot to say for Send In The Clothes. Nick wouldn’t care if other kids decided to pose just like him, but he was surprised when he saw “Jimmy” do it. He wasn’t hostile when “Jimmy” got up in his face and called him “skateboard boy.” He also let “Jimmy” touch his skateboard. Nick doesn’t seem like the type of guy to let anyone touch his board. Instead of envying “Jimmy” for having better moves than him, he was impressed. Of course he got mad after breaking his skateboard, but would you be mad at your crush for breaking one of your possessions? Later on in the episode, after Jimmy is cornered by an angry mod, Nick yells “I’ll hold him down!” One more thing I might add: This gaze he gives Jimmy in Jimmy For President.

It’s been said that Nick was suppose to have a larger role by the cancelled fourth season. They would have explored Nick’s character more, and he would grow a closer bond with Jimmy. Whatever those plans were, sure sound interesting. He could be the Courtney Gripling to Jimmy’s Ginger Foutley.

[frankie-the-fangirl]

Isadora - 1| Day 53,656

Author’s Note: This chapter comes from my story on Wattpad called “Isadora.” The story follows a girl named Isadora...wow shocker...and it’s a Vampire Diaries fanfiction. It focuses heavily on Kai Parker and Kol Mikaelson. The book isn’t finished yet, but there are 26 chapters up on Wattpad. I won’t be posting all the chapters on Tumblr so if you want to go check the story out the link to my Wattpad is in my bio. I hope you do!!

Word Count: 1,649

The last thing I could remember was eating expired blueberries as I watched the same sunset for the fifty-three thousandth time. I woke up in a different setting. I was sprawled across the middle of a road. I couldn't believe it; I was finally free. I expected to see tons of people on the roads, but to my dismay, it was deserted.

   I had no clue where I was, or when I was. I needed a form of human life to confirm that I was indeed in 2014. I ran across the street, pulling my torn dress to my calves so I wouldn't trip on them.

   "Who do we have here? Cinderella running away from the ball perhaps?" A voice behind me said. I turned around to see a dark haired man sitting on the porch of a house munching on a bag of half-eaten pork rinds.

   "Who might you be?" I asked walking towards him.

   "The million dollar questions are who are you and what are you doing here?"

   "I have finally been freed, now do you mind telling me what year I am in?"

   "Let me think about it," he paused rubbing his chin. "No, and if you're a runaway fugitive, welcome to the party."

   "I am confused."

   "And I'm tired of playing this game." He stood from the swinging bench he was sitting on and neared me. "Unless you want this fork in your eye, I'd answer my question. Who sent you here?"

   "You may think I am out of my mind, but a coven of witches finally freed me. I have been stuck in an 1867 prison world, and this is the day they were supposed to let me out. Please tell me I'm in the year 2014."

   He laughed, "oh this might be slightly depressing for you. They let you out alright, but you are in 1994."

   "This can not be, I most certainly counted correctly. I was sentenced to one hundred and forty-seven years. It must be 2014."

   "Kudos to you on the whole math solution, but I don't think you get it. Welcome to my 1994 prison world, the name's Malachai Parker. But let's skip that awkward stage where you call me that hideous name, call me Kai."

   "You must be kidding, Emily Bennett insured me that her bloodline would let me out in one hundred and forty-seven years. Why am I still here? I cannot do this any longer." I replied, pacing around the lawn. I am going to pull every strand of hair out of my scalp if I do not return back to the real world.

   "Not everyone gets what they wish for Cindy."

   "I am not Cindy or Cinderella. My name is Isadora. It is nice to meet you, Kai." I extended my hand out, but he just rolled his eyes and walked away.

   "Why are you in this 1994 prison world?" I asked, following him.

   "Oh, how rude of me, welcome to my personal hell. Do you want coffee?" He asked, ignoring my question.

   "Did Emily send you here too?"

   "You ask a lot of questions for someone from the 1800s."

   "What's that supposed to mean? I am educated and caught up with time despite being imprisoned for one hundred and seventy-four years."

   Emily Bennett and her descendants were kind enough to change the setting of the prison world I lived in every ten years. So the changes that occurred in the real world would also happen in my 1867 prison world every decade. They would send a bunch of newspapers, books and information about the events that were taking place in the real world. I taught myself during the time I spent in the prison world.

   "I couldn't care less about what you know or don't know," he stormed off into the nearest house. So I followed him.

   "Aren't you curious as to why I was sent to a prison world? I have hundreds of questions I want to ask you."

   "Really? This isn't show and tell."

   "Okay, well I was sent to the 1867 prison world because I was associated with vampires," I said. He wasn't paying attention. Kai was too busy raiding the cupboards.

•••

Flashback

   "How could you commit such a felony Isadora? You are a disgrace to our family!"

   "I'm sorry father, please do not do this to them." I pleaded, tears running down my cheeks as my father pulled me away from the villagers who were staking the vampires. This was my wrongdoing. I believed that I could protect the vampires when I was the daughter of the man who wanted them dead.

   I am such a fool.

   "I will not allow my daughter to be a vampire sympathizer. You should be glad I spared your life. You are an embarrassment, Isadora, I did not raise you like this. I did not raise you to befriend and protect those monsters." He nodded his head in disapproval, he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me towards our house.

   "What will you do to them, father?" I asked as his grip on my wrist tightened. I was being pulled through a crowd of villagers with torches and stakes in their hands, chanting and celebrating their victory over capturing the vampires.

   "We are sending them to the closest thing to hell. They will soon be engulfed by the flames in Fell's Church. You can not save them."

   We abruptly stopped in front of our house until a carriage pulled up, "take her far from here and do not ever bring this abomination back." He handed me to the girl who was seated in the carriage. I quickly recognized her since I have seen her around town before.

   "I plan on taking her to New Orleans."

   "I could not care less; I no longer want to see her."

   "Please father, I can redeem myself. Do not send me away. I cannot leave you or my siblings." I begged.

   "Farewell Isadora," he said before leaving me with Emily Bennett.

•••

   Kai yawned, "that was the reason you were sent here? I find that offending, how could such a great mastermind like me be stuck with an amateur like you? Saving vampires from death isn't really a big deal, do you know what is? Killing your family." He placed a newspaper in front of me. An article was written about him and the death of his family.

   "Y-you murdered your family?" I stuttered.

   "One of my greatest achievements, I plan on putting that on my resume. But I'm not really sure if I would get the job, I hear committing murder is a turn-off."

   "You are revolting!" I yelled. He was right, compared to him, I was an angel. How could one assassinate and betray their own blood?

   "And you are obviously attracted to me, admit it. Ever since you got here you couldn't stop talking to me, you even followed me into this house. If that isn't attraction, I don't know what is."

   "I would be embarrassed to be attracted to you."

   "If you don't watch what you're saying this knife could be the end of you." He took a butter knife from a drawer, pointing it at me. "And don't think I'll hesitate."

   "Go ahead. I dare you. This would not be the first time I died." I said looking into his eyes. "I killed myself in my 1867 prison world, over and over. The witches who created the prison world won't let you die, do you know what I had to go through? One hundred and forty-seven years of solitude drained me, every single day, all 53,655 days spent in that hell. All I thought of was death and when it would come. For the first few years, I thought I would be rescued or freed. The naïve little me thought I could see my family again. For the first few years, I had hope. But a decade went by, and hatred and sadness filled me. So if you decide to kill me now, you'll be doing me a favour by putting me out of my misery."

   To my dismay, he put the knife down and slammed the drawer shut. He left the kitchen without a word, leaving me with my dark thoughts and haunting past. If I couldn't kill myself in my 1867 prison world because it was my personal hell, does that mean I could kill myself now because this is Kai's prison world?

   I would have no family to get back to anyways; they are all dead. I would be as lonely in the real world as I am here. I do not know if it is worth it, but I do not want to live forever. There's no point in life when you are immortal, and the longer I'm in here, the longer I will live. I will not grow old. I'll be a 164-year-old soul in a seventeen-year-old body.

[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.”

[platonicone]

Devotion -  Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 3 - A False Promise

If our actions are the outcome of our own choices, then is it right to blame fate? Or is it fate that dictates our choices? I wonder.

The car, with a number plate WH-1637551, applied hard brakes and came to a screeching halt just inches before him.

“Are ya out of your mind standing in the middle of the road?” Yelled a spunky girl in a heavy southern accent, rolling down her window.

“I am sorry, we need a ride to Lestallum,” he said, looking at the girl with curly blond hair and olive-green eyes. She wore a cropped yellow jacket and a red cap with yellow outlines and a logo with the words “HAMMER HEAD” and “FULL SERVICE STATION” on it.

There was someone in the passenger seat, but he couldn’t make out much about him because of the lack of light.

“That be all? Hoop on in the back,” she said, pointing at the back of her open-air pick-up truck.

He went back to help Lunafreya. With his support, she limped all the way to the back of the car. He lifted her tenderly as to not hurt her. They both sat on the opposite end, facing each other.

“You two okay back there?” The driver asked from a small window connecting the back of the truck.

“Ya. Thanks for the ride,” said Squall.

“No sweat. Where are you two birds eloping to?” She asked.

“Running away from the Imperials and going to Lestallum,” Lunafreya replied quickly.

“Ah, so a refugee?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“There are lots of refugees now, especially after the fall of Insomia,” she added. “The name is Cindy, by the way.”

“I am Dave from Hunter HQ,” the passenger added. “What are your names?”

“Squall Leonhart,” he went first.

“And your name, young lady?” asked Dave.

“Stella Heartilly,” said Lunafreya, after a brief pause.

Squall raised an eyebrow questioningly. Lunafreya placed a finger on her lips, indicating him to stay quiet.

‘Heartilly? I know I have heard that name before. But where?’ He wondered.

The car slowly picked up the pace and they were on their way. He did not know much about this world, but a busy town usually means a hotel and comfortable bed, which would be like a heaven right now.

“I am not feeling well,” she said softly. Her words halted Squall from fantasizing about a soft bed.

It took him by a surprise as this was the first time she dropped her ‘determined’ façade and admitted her shortcoming without probing.

“You should rest, you have been through a lot,” he suggested. She nodded before leaning back and closing her eyes.

It was the first time he had the time to carefully look at the girl in front of him. She had long blond hair styled in side-swept bangs with a double braid going across her crown and the rest twisted and pinned up. She wore a necklace with half-moon as the pendant. She wore an elegant long white dress with white heels. Her dress was anything but white at this point after all the battles.

As the car’s speed picked up, the wind started blowing hard. They were still drenched from their dip in the river. He saw Lunafreya shivering as the wind got stronger. He took off his jacket and covered her as she peacefully slept.

“Tell us something about yourself. Where are you guys from? What is your story?” asked Dave, from the front seat.

Squall looked at Lunafreya for an answer, but she was fast asleep.

“We are victims of war. Homes torched, and families displaced. The same story as all other refugees,” he replied, keeping his answer vague. “So where are you guys from?” Squall asked, diverting the attention from him.

“I am from Hammerhead in Leide. I manage a garage with my paw-paw,” Cindy said.

“Must be nice to work with different types of car,” Squall added to drag the conversation.

It worked as Cindy went on and on about Hammerhead and her love for cars and hot dogs.

The car ran over a pothole as the back of the car bounced a bit, causing Lunafreya’s head to bump against the railing.

“Ouch,” she woke up, rubbing the back of her head. She was so exhausted that she quickly falls back asleep.

Once Cindy stopped talking, Squall asked the passenger, “And what about you, Dave?”

“I go wherever hunter HQ needs me. We hunters fight demons, escort citizens, and help in any capacity we can,” he too went on and on about Hunter HQ.

This was the first time in his life that Squall wanted people to talk more.

The car ran over a bump and once again Lunafreya banged her head against the side of the car.

Squall moved next to Lunafreya and she instinctively placed her head on his shoulder.

“So, can anyone become a hunter?” Squall asked, as the conversation seemed to die down. He desperately wanted to keep attention away from him. It worked as Dave passionately started talking about Hunter HQ again.

Cindy made a sharp turn which caused Lunafreya’s head to slip from Squall’s shoulder and slid into Squall’s lap. Normally, he hates when people touch him, but for some reason, he was okay with her. Something about her made him feel comfortable and at ease. There was an odd sense of familiarity about her. Something he would definitely need to address once he has more time.

Squall chimed in infrequently to keep the conversation going as he learned a few things about the world he inhabits now.

Without even realizing Squall kept stroking the head of Lunafreya as she slept peacefully.

The car slowed down as the city approached.

He tapped Lunafreya gently to wake her up. After multiple tries, she finally woke up.

“Where are we?” She asked, trying to adjust her eyes to the ambiance light.

“I believe we are in Lestallum,” he made an educated guess. “Where do we go now?”

“There is a hotel here called Leville; we can rest there,” she said, getting off the pick-up truck with Squall’s help. Instead of returning Squall’s jack, she wore it properly as if it was the most normal thing to do. Squall just looked at her dumbfounded. He had to admit; his black jacket looked nice on top of her white dress.

Cindy and Dave came out of the car to meet them.

Lunafreya immediately thanked them when she saw them approach. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness.”

“These are dark times, we’ve gotta help each other,” Dave said.

“My be, aren’t you the Oracle?” Cindy said with awe.

“Ya now that ya mentioned it, I think I saw her on TV during the treaty signing,” Dave recalled.

“I am flattered, but I can assure you that I am no Oracle. Any resemblance I might have is purely happenstance. I believe it is disrespectful to compare someone such as I to the late Oracle, as I am no more than a refugee without a home,” Lunafreya quickly lied to conceal her identity. She was not here in her official capacity as an Oracle and would like to keep a low profile to not attract Imperial’s attention. Squall noticed how she had refused to say that she was the Oracle and wondered why.

‘It was announced on the radio that the Oracle died during the fall of Insomnia, so she can’t be her.’ Cindy justified it in her head and chose not to push the topic any further.

“You two should be safe here. There are many refugee shelters in this town,” said Dave.

“Yes, we shall seek them. Thank you for your assistance,” Lunafreya said, with a slight bow.

“Well, I’m gonna go get myself some hot dogs. Lestallum’s hot dogs are very famous. I love them,” she said, with unmatched enthusiasm in her voice.

Squall had another onset of headaches. He clutched his head as he recalled events from the past. He remembered a friend who loved repairing cars, eating hot dogs, punching things and was always full of energy. He did not recall his face or name.

Soon, the headache subsided, and he heard Cindy asking him, “You alright? Do you want some hot dogs?”

Squall was hungry, but before he could say anything Lunafreya replied, “No, we are okay, thank you so much for your offer. You have helped us enough already.”

“Hey Cindy,” someone yelled from a distance.

They all look in the direction of the sound and saw someone enthusiastically waving.

She looked like a middle-aged woman with middle-parted shoulder-length hair wearing some sort of thermal suit. She quickly made her way to them.

Cindy rushed to her and gave her a big hug. “Holly, I’ve missed you,” she claimed.

“It’s been a while, Cindy,” Holly replied with a big smile.

“Hi Dave,” Holly greeted, and he waved back in response. “Oh my god, what did you do to your hair? Why did you cut off your pigtail?”

“Thought it’d look cool,” Dave replied, with a shrug.

“I used to love your pigtail,” Cindy said with disappointment.

“You did? I guess I’d better grow it back. It will take a while, though,” Dave said, with a laugh.

‘A girl who loves hot dogs and cars and a guy with a pigtail. Seems familiar yet very odd,’ Squall thought to himself.

Holly noticed the two strangers around them. “And who do we have here?” She asked, looking at two unfamiliar figures.

“Refugees,” Lunafreya quickly replied.

“Ah, we are getting a lot of those lately. You should check out Leville hotel, they are housing all the refugees for the time being,” she said, pointing in general direction of the hotel. “If you need any help, don’t hesitate to ask me, the name is Holly, I am always by the EXINERIS.”

“Thank you, Holly, that is very kind of you,” Lunafreya replied graciously.

“Shall we go to the hotel now?” Squall asked, not wanting to get involved in another long conversation. Lunafreya looked at Squall and nodded.

“Good luck,” Cindy chirped. “See you around,” Holly added. Dave waved at them.

“Thank you all once again for all that you have done for us,” Lunafreya said once again.

She put her one arm around Squall while he supported her back with his left hand. They made their way towards the hotel slowly as Lunafreya could barely limp.

Once they crossed the road and reached the main city entrance, Lunafreya said disappointingly, “Oh God, these are lots of stairs.”

“It’s okay, take your time, we’ll go slow,” he encouraged.

After 10 minutes, they had barely climbed a few steps as she took a break after every few steps to gather strength to climb the next one. Squall was getting impatient but did not want to say anything.

After a few minutes his patience finally ran out, “Hey, I am sorry.”

It came out of the blue, so she asked, “Sorry for what?”

“For what I am about to do,” he replied.

Even before her brain had time to process or react to what he just said, she was lifted off her feet into his arms.

He effortlessly picked her up in bridal style and marched on the stairs.

Her heart was panicking. “What are you doing? Put me down.”

“At the rate at which you were climbing, we would be here till sunrise. It’s much more efficient this way,” he explained logically with a monotonous voice.

“It’s embarrassing. People are watching,” she said, blushing.

He shrugged in response. “No one knows me here anyway.”

“But lots of people might know me,” she said, emphasizing on the word lots.

“If you really insist on walking, then who am I to oppose?” He said, getting to the top of the stairs.

“No, please don’t put me down. I don’t want to walk,” she complained, as she threw her head back in resignation. “The effect of healing spell is wearing off. My entire body hurts. I feel like every bone in my body is broken.”

“Who told you to fight that Titan alone?” He retorted.

“I told you already, that was not the plan.”

He kept making small talks to keep her mind away from pain and from the fact that he was still carrying her. They reached a big building at the end of the alley with ‘Leville Hotel’ written on it.

“We are here,” he announced, as they walked through the main entrance, with him still carrying her.

He let her down as they approached the front desk.

“Welcome to hotel Leville. I am Francesco DiMarco, how may I be of service to you?” The clerk at the counter asked politely.

“We need rooms,” Squall replied briefly.

“I am sorry, Sir, we don’t have any honeymoon suite left,” Francesco apologized.

Squall was not the one to usually laugh, but even he couldn’t help but chuckle at it.

“I wonder where he got that idea from,” Lunafreya said, slowly so only Squall could hear, glaring at him. Her cheeks were red as roses now.

“Whatever. It was a practical choice,” he said, with a shrug.

“Sir, we have lots of refugees coming in lately, so we are almost full. We only have one room with single bed available,” Francesco explained.

“That will do,” Squall replied.

“No, it won’t. We need two separate rooms,” Lunafreya said in a panic, not wanting to promote this misunderstanding any further.

“He just said there is only one room available. Do you want to kick out other refugees, so you can have your own room?” He asked rhetorically.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said, glaring back at him. “You don’t understand, I can’t be alone in a room with someone. My reputation is at stake here. If the word gets out that I shared a room with a guy, then it would be a tabloid story,” she said, in a low voice, so only Squall could hear.

“Don’t worry about sharing the room. I am not interested in you,” he replied in a whisper.

“Ouch! That was rather mean. You would be lucky to have someone like me,” she said, glaring at him.

“Oh, what do you want me to say? That I like you and I would love to share a room with you? Would that make you more comfortable?” He retorted.

“No,” she replied, sheepishly while still blushing.

“But—” she was about to say something when she heard the clerk laughing.

They both turned around and looked at him.

“Sorry, but I just remember how my wife and I used to fight when we were newly married too—”

“Shut up,” both of them yelled in unison.

Francesco just raised his hands in defense, still chuckling.

Lunafreya felt bad at yelling at the clerk and she immediately apologized. “I am so sorry; I did not mean to—”

She was interrupted when Squall leaned on the counter and said, “keys please.”

“Hey, at least apologize to him,” she said, condoning his behavior.

“Fine. I am sorry, now give me the keys,” he said, getting annoyed.

“Do it properly,” she said, glaring at him.

Squall sighed and said to the clerk, “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It was not your fault. Now can you give me the keys, please?” He said, finishing his sentence looking at Lunafreya.

She smiles and said, “much better.”

“Oh, the young love is so much fun to watch,” Francesco said, with a smile, handing the keys to Squall.

Squall wanted to say something but choose not to. He just scowled at him instead.

“The room is on the first floor, all the way down the hall to your right,” Francesco pointed out, ignoring Squall scowl.

Squall nodded in acknowledgment.

Lunafreya looked around and said with a sigh, “No, it’s my enemy again.”

Squall quickly got on high alert and scanned the area, but he did not see any threat. “Where? I don’t see any Imperials.”

“No, not the Imperials,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s my other enemy; stairs,” she said, pointing at them.

Squall placed his hand on his forehead and shook his head slightly.

He picked her up again in his arms, and she did not resist.

“You owe me a big one for this,” he said, directly looking into her eye, as he started climbing the stairs.

“After all that you have done for me today, I’ll probably end up owing you my life,” she said, sincerely.

“You know,” he started, “You are very light.” He said, as he ascended the second set of stairs.

“Um, thanks, I guess?” She said, blushing.

He walked down the corridor and their room was the last one. There was an ice machine next to it. He let her down and opened the door with the key he got from the front desk. Once the door swung open, they noticed that it was a very small room. The floor was made up of blue tiles. There was a bed in the center of the room. Small table with the TV on it. A chair close to the sliding door and balcony behind it.

He entered and turned on the lights while she hopped on one leg and crashed on the bed.

She lay flat on the bed and claimed, “Oh, this feels like heaven.”

Squall looked like a child waiting for his turn on the ride. He too wanted to lay down on the bed, relax, and experience this heaven, but it was one bed and two of them.

He disappointingly walked up to the chair and plopped down. He took off his gloves, socks, and shoes. He leaned back in the chair and stretched his feet. “This feels like heaven-ish, I guess.”

She realized that she was occupying the bed and he too should get his share of it. But it would be awkward to share a bed with a complete stranger. She tried to get up from the bed, so he can lie down there for a bit.

He noticed her struggling to get up and understood what she was trying to do. “You take the bed; I call dibs on the shower.”

She nodded to the deal and let her body fall back on the soft bed.

He got up and made his way to the bathroom, hoping they would have hot water. He was not disappointed. After a long day, a shower with warm water was bliss like no other. The water cleansed all the dirt, but it also revealed all the bruises and scars he hadn’t noticed before. It wasn’t just a battle; he fought a war and somehow managed to walk out alive. It was an eventful day, to say the least.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower. He paused at the mirror to examine one of his scars closely. When he looked at the mirror, the reflection staring back at him scared him. His heart skipped a bit, and he wasn’t sure he trusted his eyes. He stared intently at the mirror as his reflection looked a lot older now, the late twenties if he had to guess.

‘How long was I stuck in the beyond?’ He wondered.

Gone was his boyish look as a mature person looked back in the mirror. His hair longer than he remembered. His jaw was more square-shaped, and his complexion was rough now. His beard added to his mature look.

‘I’ve gotta ask Gentiana, this doesn’t make any sense. Why do I look older now?’ He thought, still staring at the mirror.

He stepped out of the bathroom after getting ready and was surprised to see a dog sitting on the bed next to Lunafreya.

‘The room is locked so how the hell did the dog get in?’ He wondered.

It was a white dog with blue eyes with subtle gray markings on its face. It had a green bandage around its right front paw.

He noticed a sudden movement to left in his peripheral vision. He turned to look at it and found another unexpected visitor.

“Umbra?” he said out loud, looking at the familiar dog sitting on the chair. Umbra barked happily and started wagging his tail.

He noticed the dog sitting on the bed, had similar green bandages to Umbra but in the opposite direction.

“Friend of yours, I presumed?” he said, looking at the white dog next to Lunafreya. As if replying to his statement, Umbra barked in response.

“Interesting,” he said, as he moved closer to the sleeping girl.

“Hey Lunafreya, wake up,” he said, gently tapping her. “Hey, wake up now.”

From the looks of it, she was completely out cold.

‘She went through a lot today. I don’t think she is waking up any time soon. Maybe I should let her rest.’ He thought to himself.

He noticed a gash on the side of her forehead and her arm.

‘That looks nasty. It would get infected if not cleaned.’

He looked around in the room to see if there was any first aid kit available. He checked the table, drawers, bathroom, and closet, but he found nothing.

‘Maybe I should get it from the front desk.’

He left the room after making sure he had taken the key with him. He made his way down the stairs and to the front desk.

“How can I help you, Sir?” Francesco asked politely.

“Hey, do you have a first aid kit?” Squall asked.

“Oh, what a strange request. Why might you need a first aid kit on your honeymoon, I wonder,” he said, with a wink and a grin plastered on his face.

‘I so badly want to punch him and break his teeth.’

“First. Aid. Kit. Now.” He said in a tone that would send chills down the spine.

Francesco quickly grabbed a first aid kit and handed it over to Squall.

“Thank you,” he said and left quickly.

As he was climbing the stairs, he heard the clerk say in a sing-song voice, “have fun now.” As Squall stared at him, the clerk just grinned and then gave a wink.

‘One punch, I swear should be enough. Just one.’

He decided to ignore him and go back to his room. He opened the door, and everything was exactly how he left. Neither dog moved from where they were.

He opened the kit and took out all cotton swabs, antiseptic cream, cleansing wipes, crêpe rolled bandages, disposable sterile gloves, scissors, and sterile gauze dressings. He placed everything neatly on the table next to the bed.

The dog next to Lunafreya eyed him curiously.

As soldiers, they get trained in basic medical treatment. He got to work starting with her face and then moved to her arm.

‘Poor thing fell asleep even before she could take off her heels.’

He gently removed her heels and placed it next to the bed. He saw her ankle, and it was very swollen.

‘We would need a doctor for this one.’ He thought placing his hand on his forehead.

‘In this unknown town, where would I find a doctor at this hour?’ He wondered.

Much to his dismay, he called the only person who could give him this information, the front desk clerk.

“Hello, this is the front desk how may I help you?” Francesco asked in his usual polite manner.

“I need to see a doctor right now, is there a hospital or a clinic open at this hour?”

“You are quick, Sir. Do you need obstetricians or would any doctor do?” Francesco said, clearly chuckling.

Squall clutched the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

‘I want to punch this guy so bad.’

“Any doctor is fine,” he said, trying his best to control his rage.

“Hold on, let me check,” Francesco said, and placed Squall on a brief hold.

After listening to annoying hold music, which felt like forever, Francesco finally spoke again. “Sir, a caravan of refugees was attacked nearby by the daemons. There are many casualties. All our available doctors and nurses are out there treating the injured. The clinic should be open tomorrow by noon,” he informed.

“Okay, thank you,” Squall said. As he was about to hang up, he heard the clerk say, “However, if you need obstetrician—” Squall slammed the phone down before he could say anything else.

‘Calm down. Just ignore him. He is just another troll.’

He saw Lunafreya peacefully sleeping and immediately calmed down.

‘Right, I need to do something about her leg. Ice should help with the swelling, but I need something to apply it with.’

After thinking for a bit, he pulled out the cover from a pillow. He stepped out of the room and filled the pillowcase with some ice from the ice machine in the hallway.

He returned and sat on the edge of the bed and started giving cold compression on her ankle.

Even though it was late at night, he could still hear bustling in the street below. He normally likes quiet places, but after all that they had been through today, he appreciated a crowded town because there is a certain safety in numbers.

He was lost in his thoughts, while absentmindedly applying cold compression to her ankle, when he suddenly caught a glimpse of a woman clad in black standing in the balcony.

‘Gentiana!’

He desperately wanted to talk to her, but at the same time did not want to abandon Lunafreya’s treatment. He grabbed another pillow and removed its cover. He used that pillowcase like a string to tie it around her feet so that the previous cover with ice in it would stay in place.

He quickly got out to the balcony and shut the sliding door behind as to not disturb Lunafreya's sleep.

“Congratulations on completing your first trial. You did well,” Gentiana said, in her usual demeanor.

“A little heads up would have been nice. You just threw me in the middle of the battle.”

“Time waits for none, you had to be there at that precise moment,” she said, politely.

His mind had a million questions he wanted to ask. Why was he here? Who is she? Why does he look older? How come he only has limited magic to use? What if he dies in this world?

All of his frustration just came out in one sentence, “Just what the hell is going on here, I don’t understand.”

“Squall, do you remember your time in the beyond?” She said, avoiding his question.

“Yes, how could I forget?”

“Tell me, what do you remember of that world?” She asked.

“It was a world without light or hope. Dark gray clouds eternally swirled above me and barren land was beneath my feet. No trace of life anywhere. Everywhere I looked I saw gray haze swirling endlessly in the atmosphere—” He narrated.

“That is the fate of this world, should the Oracle fail,” She interjected.

Squall was alarmed to hear that. He recalled Gentiana mentioning about it when they first meet, but the gravity of her words did not sink in until now.

“It will be a world filled with eternal darkness, daemons, and despair. By completing the trial of Titan, you held the hand of fate a little longer.”

“What am I to do next?” He inquired.

“Wait till the Oracle recovers, and then challenge the trial of Ramuh,” she instructed.

“Ramuh, the thunder God?” He clarified. She simply nodded in response.

“Lead her through the trials of Ramuh, and then to Altissia to the Tidemother, in their lies your liberation,” she said, with her eyes closed as usual.

“If I complete this mission, you will send me back to my world, correct?” He reiterated their earlier deal.

She had to think long and hard about how to answer his question. She finally said, “Yes, you shall find your home. That is a promise by your familiar,”

They both stood there in silence. Squall stood there like a statue with his arms folded and a frown plastered on his face. Gentiana, on the other hand, leaned against the railing with a small smile gracing her lips.

“How long was I stuck in the beyond?” Squall finally broke the silence.

“The beyond is a realm where the past, present and the future tangle endlessly.” She started.

“Time compression?” He asked.

“Yes, it is a realm where space and time are distorted. You were there for 10 years, while the world here moved on for many years.”

“That explains why I look older now,” he said, shaking his head.

Silence consumed them both, once again, as they stood side by side.

“Meeting Lunafreya, fighting Titan, meeting Cindy, and me talking to you, this all feels like a déjà vu.” Squall spoke up.

“Memories perish with the body, but the bonds of soul linger, it seems.”

“What do you mean?”

“It matters not, for all shall be revealed in due time.”

He hated this cryptic stuff. One question which bothered him more than anything else was in regards to his past. “How come I don’t have all the memories from my past?”

“Memories can be a gift or a burden. Knowing what happened in the past would do a great disservice to you on your current mission. It is better this way. It is for your best,” she said, with her eyes closed.

“And just who the hell are you to play with my memories and determined what’s best for me?” he said raising his voice.

“A friend,” she quickly cut him off before he had a chance to say anything else. “I have witnessed your journey from the very beginning. Your joys and pains, your excitement and disappointments, your happiness and suffering, and all your human emotions, I have experienced it all with you. I mean you no harm. Trust me.” She said definitively.

Squall was still processing all that when Gentiana pushed herself off the railing she was leaning on.

“I must go now, someone is waiting for me,” she announced.

“Wait, I still have many questions I need to ask,” he said.

“Not now. We shall meet again soon,” she said, and within a blink of an eye, she disappeared, leaving small ice crystals dancing in the air in her place. He stood there motionless for a few minutes.

He entered back in the room and continued tending Lunafreya’s wounds. Once he was satisfied, he went to the bathroom and removed his t-shirt and started tending to his wounds. It took him a few minutes to patch it all up.

It had been a really long day and all he wanted now was to sleep. He thought about sleeping on the chair, but he needed to lie down and stretch. He took one of the spare bed sheets and laid it on the tile floor. He grabbed one of the spare pillows and tossed it on his makeshift bed. He shut off the lights and carefully navigated to his bed and lay down. He was so tired that he did not have any strength to move a muscle.

It wasn’t until he lied down that he noticed excruciating pain radiating down his left arm. He knew he would have to get it checked as it was not normal pain. But all that can wait, as his priority right now was sleeping. As he lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around everything going on, he noticed Umbra had come down from the chair snuggled next to him.

‘What a strange dog.’

He closed his eyes and within minutes he drifted off to one of the best sleeps he ever had.

Author's notes

Four new FFVIII characters were revealed in this chapter, hope you caught them all. Bonus points to anyone who can tell me the significance of "Francesco DiMarco" (this is a hard one)

Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed the story so far. I would love to hear your thoughts. Thanks :)