#don’t tag this post as your fucking strangest things boys

[dykebeckett]

sorry I’m interpreting your cool male character as a butch dyke who sucks. she’s better now

[gnarf]

Gnarf’s 2020

and what a fucking year that was... Anyways, let’s talk about the good things, shall we?

I made it through 2020 alive and without going insane! Yay! So lets see what else I did. (This is a long post)

In the beginning of 2020 I said I won’t participate in many fests. Only three or something like that. Lets check how that went!

Fests Gnarf participated in: 9

@lockdownfest @lcdrarry @hd-wireless @hpfluff-fest @hd-hurtfest @hd-fan-fair @hd-erised @gameofdrarry in drarropoly @wireless-festive-minifest​

Haha yup, three. Sounds legit. I also wandered off to try if I can art! No worries, I gave that up :D Mad respect to all Artists, arting is exhausting and the progress is too slow for me.

If you really want to check out my attempts, here’s what made its way onto AO3:

Dont Blink! for LCDrarry, it includes the Angels from Doctor Who and was a pain in the arse.

If you knew... was made for H/D Wireless and has the armiest arm i ever saw, very proud of that one. Its also the last thing I made.

Home Sweet Home was also made for H/D Wireless, and the first bigger art piece I tried my hand on.

A muffled groan which is rather explicit and I entirely forgot about making it :D it has a ficlet going with it too.

(I think theres other Art stuff here with the tag #gnarf draws or something)

I reached my yearly goal of writing 100k words once again!

Fics and Ficlets I wrote this year: 20(ish)

Better Side of the Bed (Lock Down Fest, T, 2k)

It was all Malfoy's fault. Harry could be at the Burrow right now, but instead he was trapped in Malfoy's tiny flat. All because that dick couldn't stop bothering him about a stupid life debt he didn't even care about.

Doing What's Best (G, ~800 words)

Lucius looked down at the little bundle currently sleeping in Narcissa's arms and felt terror shoot through his body. A little boy, his hair so white it was nearly invisible. Born only a few hours ago, taking his first breath in the light of the rising sun. Narcissa had whispered a welcome, her eyes wet, her smile bigger than ever. But they both knew, even though temporarily safe, he really wasn't. Draco was born into a world ruled by war. If only it'd end soon.

I better be hallucinating this (T, 3.8k)

After the war Draco Malfoy is sentenced to Azkaban for a really long sentence. Apparently aiding in Dumbledore's death overrules any argument Harry could put up for him. After the trial, as the days pass by, Harry is more and more outraged at the sentence. He can't stop obsessing over the fact that Draco Malfoy saved his life and aided him during the war and is very much capable of redemption. Not to mention that Malfoy has always been a delicate git and would never survive Azkaban. After a few weeks obsessing Harry decides that Malfoy indeed can't remain unjustly in Azkaban and starts to plot a way to break him out of jail and hide him in Grimmauld Place. When Hermione finds out she's not amused. Ron is horrified. Draco still thinks he's hallucinating.

Keep Holding On (Wireless, M. 33.333) A collab with @maesterchill​ who surprised me with lovely art for it!

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

Age is just a number (Fluff Fest, T, 1.5k)

Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words: "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms."

There was still hope (Hurt Fest, M, 3.1k)

Draco winced as pain shot through his leg with every step. This secret, back-alley laboratory had been his last chance, last hope, to find the potion. But nobody had it in stock, and there was no time left to brew it himself. Panic was slowly overtaking his entire mind as he crept out of the store and back to the nearest alley to Apparate back home. He already felt off, and it was still early in the day. Of course this thestral-shit had to happen to him, of all people. As if life wasn't bad enough for him already.

Desire (E, 1.7k)

"Auror Potter, what a pleasant surprise to meet you here. What can I do for you?" "Stop the show, Malfoy. There's no one around, and I'm not here as an Auror." Draco watched Potter move closer until they were nearly nose to nose, only the small counter of his shop kept Potter at distance. Potter's eyes were dark with something Draco couldn't exactly name, his face was flushed and the air surrounding him felt somehow static. Draco felt the urge to lean further over his counter, to drink in his sight, to touch the man on the other side—but he didn't.

Drarropoly 2020 currently holds 7 ficlets and is in a Series. The highest rating is Mature and its 3.2k in total at this point.

Let's not wait for France (Fan Fair, T, 17.7k)

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy. An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw. Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

Love letters for the oblivious (Mini Wireless, T, 716 words)

Draco had gotten the strangest letters all week long, which wasn't what anyone needed at Christmas. Especially not him. Either someone was taking the piss, or he had a very dumb and inefficient secret admirer. And Draco didn't know which would be worse.

Double-Booked (Mini Wireless, T, 2.1k)

Finally, peace and quiet, and— "Malfoy?!?" Or the one where Harry thought he could enjoy a quiet Christmas far from everyone, just to find out that the cabin he had booked already accommodated another guest.

The best Christmas he ever had (Mini WirelessT, 1.9k)

Christmas had never been less appealing to him than this year. That was until Arthur Weasley showed up at his door, dressed as Santa, inviting him to the Burrow.

Anon Fests to be added

Whoever made it to this point: yoooo! Friend! Lots of love to you! I also got tagged in many get to know me posts, plenty of love in my Inbox giving me love slaps left and right (honestly, im bruised, stop slapping me), amazing person awards, top 5 fics, and whatever you can think of.

To make up for not answering most of them because I’m a horrible person:

My favourite colour: purple My age: I’ll be 30 next year in April, I expect gifts, I don’t accept first borns My favourite trope: eight year My favourite animal: cat My favourite ice cream: Ben and Jerry’s Cookie Dough Here’s my writing Playlist, it’s the worst you’ll ever see, and yes, I use YouTube, I’m old.

Other things that happened in 2020 that made me happy:

I kicked out my mentally/emotionally abusive partner of 7 years in January

I kept my grandma alive through this *waves hand at world*

I was able to share my birthday cake with my family becaus I got to leave my first quarantine a few days before my birthday

I got to keep my job

I found a lot of lovely friends in this fandom, and got to keep them through this year

My cats are their usual little jerks and actually enjoyed me being at home due to the raging pandemic

I finally cut off my hair

I’m about to hit 3.5k followers here and I love you all

I’m also tagging everyone who sees this and wants to do something similiar! Show us what you did in 2020, the things you’re proud of, and the things you loved! Let’s spread some happy for the end of the year 💜🥰

[crescentbunny]

Thank you for tagging me! @shut-up-alexa

Tagging  @that-wildwolf @rpgwrites @mordinette

If you want Mass Effect Fic, come check me out. 

I’m p sure I’ve been tagged for this before and decided not to partake since I only had the one fic so if you tagged me before for this - I’m sorry, I didn’t ignore you I did see it!

How many works do you have on AO3?

Just the 2 - for now

What’s your total AO3 word count?

175,504

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Of course are you kidding? Creators live for feedback and I’m not going to let a single ounce of the kindness people have chosen to give me go to waste or even seemingly go unappreciated. My britches will NEVER be to big to reply, even if I got thousands a day I would answer back.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

For the moment it’s Of Reapers and Burnt Beginnings. The end of ME2 didn’t end on a high note, and the games certainly didn't explore it - so I did.  Shep getting court martialed and put on trial would be a public media FRENZY. We are talking death threats, assassination attempts, threats of war over the Butcher of Torfan’s seemingly callous murdering spree in the Bahack system, at the bare minimum! The next portion of this fic, Of Shallow Graves and Glorious Cinders, is still being written to completion before I post. Its first few chapters explore the fall out of the trial and its effects on Shepard’s mental health and that of her friends as well.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I guess Devil’s Den? It ends with Shakarian in a post-coital haze with a moment of fluff obliterated by Joker. 

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the strangest one you’ve written?

Not yet

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Also not yet - I’ve been super lucky and non-stop supported by the most lovely and kind people. I am so spoiled - I know it and I take no moment for granted. 

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

In my WIP folder there is EVERY kind. Well, maybe that’s not true - I don't get heavy into sub/dom kink or even understand the alpha/omega stuff. I apparently took too much of a break from fanfic and missed that trend.

One of these days I’m gonna write smut of Samara just utterly destroying Femshep. You can’t tell me a 1,000 year old biotic matriarch couldn’t teach you a few out-there things that wouldn’t blow your tits clean off your body, okay. 

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware of? How would that work? I don’t think I’d care if someone plagiarized me hard - not like I get paid for this and I’d read it, hell yeah. I’ll read the same story line by different people 900 different ways, sign me up. But if someone just outright posted it somewhere else with no credit... that’d be shitty. Don’t do that people. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope, I wish! I wish I knew 4 other languages, I’d just do it myself! That's got to be a massive labor of love though holy shit.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I haven’t but I’m certainly open to it - if it’s an idea that gets me excited I’ll throw down with someone.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

In Mass Effect it’s Femshep x Garrus. I can ship literally anyone with femshep with extraordinary ease though. Special mention to Shack, Shrios, and Shaeed too.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I FULLY intend to complete every half realized story in my WIP folder - so hopefully none.

What are your writing strengths?

I’m not entirely sure? I just know I like to read what I write. Which is the whole point. My most poignant comments have been about good characterization and “really hot sex" lol. 

What are your writing weaknesses?

Getting into the grove. It takes me hours to settle down and crank out words. My job is very stressful and it doesnt leave me a lot of time to write, and when I do have time I feel wiped out. Ah, adulthood.

Editing my own shit. I get sucked into the story EVERYTIME and I stop looking for errors. Man it’s annoying. (I mean, it’s a good thing too. I write for myself after all, but WHAT a hinderance.)

Not sure what to call it, but I’ve discovered I have a very out there opinion on how sentences should be arranged and boy howdy does @shepgarrus call me on it. She also reigns in my over-the-line prose too, lol.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I wish I was better at it because I love it. I’ve been trying to write a Solavellan fic and even though I’ve read the elvhen cypher breakdown on Ao3 clean through like five times I just cannot wrap my head around it. And that's just a cypher. Imagine me trying to learn an actual language and you will instantly see why I struggled through languages in school.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Sailor Moon!! I’ve got so much fic from my 14 yr old self stored away on my computer still. I can't decide if any of it is cute or just fucking atrocious. Lordy. Trust me it’s all been deleted from ffn.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Of Reapers and Burnt Beginnings. I’m just so proud I wrote it at all after not writing a single thing since high school, and I finished it. It’s hella long - longer than The Two Towers, or Return of the King! 

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen & Up

Chapter: 1/? (More chapters to come a little later in Dec + Early Jan!) 

Summary: A loose crossover between Carry On and parts of I'll Give You The Sun. "He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured."

Carry On Countdown, Day 10 - Crossover @carryon-countdown​

Tags: Fluff, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Social Anxiety, Crossover, Pining Baz, Artist Baz, Space Enthusiast Simon, Star Gazing, Anxious Thoughts,  Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 10

Words: 2,145

Baz

I need to stop thinking about grey, slippery roads and black shrouds. About the purple under my Father’s dull eyes, and the red of my Aunt’s anger. I need to stop thinking about me - About my life. My head is too loud. Too noxious. I need someone else to take my mind for a while. I need to see. To paint. And so, I search for a subject. 

Dragging my binoculars across the bleak, colourless houses, I search, desperately, for even a glimpse of a hue. But the colours are slipping from the world again. They always do when I’m trapped in my head.

And then I see them - The movers - so far from colourless that I’m dizzied. They’re great work horses, both of them - One chestnut, and one palomino - Hulking a grandfather clock up the house-next-door’s stairs. I’m zooming in, before I have time to reconsider - Into the stretch of navy against the flex of their arms, the rose flush of their foreheads, the tan swath of smooth stomach revealed each time they lift their arms. And then ... Shit. 

I drop the binoculars onto the floor, my body following swiftly behind them. Because, on the roof of the house, there’s a boy pointing a telescope directly at me. Fucking Hell. How long has he even been there?

I risk a glance over the top of my windowsill. He’s wearing a tatty purple jumper, and there’s a mess of bronze curls tangled atop his head. Even without the binoculars, I can see that he’s grinning at me. Is he laughing at me, already? Does he know what I was doing? That I was watching the movers? Does he think that I’m ...? He must. Why else would I be ogling them. God. I feel the dread pinching at my throat, and try to tether my mind, so that it doesn’t get away from me again. Maybe he’s just a smiley person. Maybe he thinks I was looking at his clock. That’s equally as plausible, surely? And, I mean, he has a telescope. Dickheads don’t tend to have telescopes, do they?

Tugging at the ends of my hair, I stand. When he sees me he waves, but before I have a chance to reciprocate, he’s reaching into his pocket, drawing his arms backwards, and lobbing something straight at me. (Maybe he is a dickhead, after all). 

On reflex, I stick out my hand. The unknown object slapping hard against my skin, as I close my fingers around it. 

“Nice catch!” He yells. His voice deep and bright, with a definite Northern tinge. I decide that I like it. It suits him. 

But, I don’t know what to say back. So, I don’t. Instead, I examine his potentially dangerous ‘gift’ - Spinning the rock around in the palm of my hand. It’s small (About the size of a pound coin) and covered in irregular lightening-like cracks. What am I supposed to do with it? Do I throw it back? Why did he even throw it at me, in the first place? I don’t know, but I slip it into my back pocket for safe-keeping, anyway. 

When I look back at him, hoping for some kind of explanation, he’s turned himself back towards the sky. Too focused on looking through his telescope to notice me. Which, to be honest, is odd. I mean, it’s daytime. What could he possibly be looking at? 

Even though I’m curious, I don’t stick around to find out. I’m worryingly off-kilter, and I need to rebalance. I hadn’t prepared myself for meeting a new person. I wasn’t ready. And so, I run to the place that I know best, to recuperate - The Art Institute. Where I can carry out further recon on the studio. 

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

It was a good, productive sketch session. Nobody caught me peeping through the window, and I was able to get a few decent body references down. But … I don’t feel my usual post-art calm. My mind is still racing (Although, with a different genre of thought than earlier). 

Every over time I have visited, the models have been women. Posing demurely, with a bowl of fruit or silks. Arms placed, to partially protect their modesty. I’m used to that. I’m prepared for that. But today … it was a bloke. 

I don’t have a problem with that (Not really). There’s nothing wrong with blokes. And there’s nothing wrong with naked blokes, either. I’m mature enough to handle that. A body is a body. A sketch is a sketch. And I’m an artist first, queer person second. I just … hadn’t expected it. And I don’t like to be caught off guard. So, I’m feeling slightly rattled. I just need to get home, and get back to normality. To safe things - Like a beach scene, or a self-portrait. Familiar things. No more surprises.

And yet, a few steps into my walk back home, I see the guy from the roof leaning against a nearby tree, the same lopsided-grin aimed over at me. I blink, confirming his existence, and then he’s talking. Stood, barely 3 metres in front of me, in the dirt. 

“How was class?” 

He says it like it isn’t the strangest thing in the world that he’s here, with me, where he really has no reason to be. Like it isn’t only just slightly beaten in its absurdity by me, sketching propped-up on a wall outside, rather than inside, the studio. Like we aren’t complete strangers (Because, no matter how much he may be smiling at me, we don’t even know each other's names yet).

‘Yeah, sorry, I kinda’ followed you. I wanted to check out the woods, but I wasn’t sure of the way. So … I just tagged along. Figured you wouldn’t mind. Don’t worry though, I wasn’t watching you the whole time. I was busy with my own stuff.” 

He points to an open suitcase filled to the brim with ... rocks? As if that’s normal. 

“My meteorite bag’s all packed.”

I nod like that explains something, but it really doesn’t. Meteorites? I thought those were in the sky, not on the ground. And what does that even mean? He just carries around pieces of infinity. For what?

I look at him more closely, studying his face for any sign of disingenuity. For any sign that he’s just having me on. But I find nothing. Nothing … bad, anyway. Just a deep dimple accompanying his crooked smile, and miles of tawny skin, speckled with moles. He exists in shades of orange and gold. He’s the sun. And I can’t look away.

“Stare much?” 

I drop my gaze, embarrassed - Staring down at his scuffed Nikes, as my neck prickles with heat. I don’t talk. What am I even supposed to say to that? Yes? 

“Well ... you’re probably just used to it from staring at that bloke for so long. You know … for your drawing.” I look up - Grey meeting blue. He’s eyeing my pad curiously. “He was naked?” He breathes in as he says it, like the words stole his oxygen. It makes my stomach plummet, but I try to keep my face calm. I think about him watching me, watching the movers. How he watched me, watching the model. He must know. And ... I don’t know how I feel about that, just yet. 

He looks down at my pad again. I don’t understand why. Does he want me to show him the drawings of the model bloke? It seems like he does. And some disturbed part of me wants to. But I doubt it. ‘Hey stranger, wanna’ see how I draw dicks?’ said no sane person ever. My stomach twists tight, and I’m out of control - My brain hazy amongst the moment’s tension.

“Look, man,” he sighs, half-smiling as he scrubs at the back of his neck. “I legit’ have no idea how to get home. I tried, but I just ended up back here. I’ve been waiting for you to lead the way. You don’t mind do you?”

I don’t think I mind. Do I? I don’t know. I shake my head, anyway, and point him in the right direction. 

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

It’s a long way home, and we walk the majority of it in silence (Well, near-silence. The bumping of his suitcase creating a constant accompaniment to our steps). I try and resist the urge to look back at him. The urge to ask him all of my ‘Why?’s - Why did you follow me? Why are you still following me? Why are you collecting meteorites? Why were you looking at the stars in daylight? Why were you looking at me in the daylight? It would only make me more muddled. So, rather than relent, I take out my invisible brushes and start to paint behind my eyes. 

And, after a while, I feel myself settling back into my skin. The dancing trees and setting sun relaxing me, in spite of the moment’s unsteadiness. Or ... maybe it was him. He’s an alarmingly relaxed person (I mean, I don’t know anybody else who would just follow a stranger around, with zero self-consciousness), so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had some sort of ‘Realm of Calm’ thing going on around him. 

When we emerge from the woods, returning to our familiar concrete-laden pavements, he spins around and jumps in front of me. Ecstatic. 

“Holy shit! That is like ... the longest I’ve ever gone without talking in my life! I was holding my breath just trying to keep the words in. How do you even do that? Are you always like this?”

He’s a mile a minute, and I’m lagging behind.

“Like what?”

And then he’s laughing at me. I can tell that he’s a person who laughs a lot, from the way he lets it take him over so easily - His whole being lightening up, as the sides of his eyes crinkle, joyfully. But it’s alright, I don’t mind. It’s not a mean laugh. It just makes me feel a little bit fizzy inside (In a good way. I think). 

“Dude! Are you kidding? You do know those are the first words you’ve said all day, right?”

I didn’t, actually. But I don’t tell him that. He’d probably just think that I’m more strange than he, no doubt, already does. 

He’s properly cracking up now (Although, I don’t know what, exactly, I did that was quite so funny). “And then you’re all just like ‘What?’”. </p>

He makes an absolutely atrocious attempt at imitating my accent (Which leaves him sounding like some kind of drunken Prince Charles impersonator), and before I can stop it, I’m laughing outright, alongside him. Both of us hunched-over cackling, wholeheartedly, probably looking more than a little mad. 

Once we’ve calmed down, he starts staring at my pad again. Jesus Christ. I really wish he wouldn’t. I’m not going to show him my sketches. Not even if he begs. I’d never survive the embarrassment.

“So ... lemme’ guess. You do most of your talking in there?” He points down at my pad, and I feel the tips of my ears flood scarlet. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” My voice comes out mumbled and gruff. I didn’t mean for it to. He probably thinks I did it on purpose, though. 

He’s haloed under the streetlights, and I’m trying not to stare. But, it’s hard. His face is celestial - The sunshine of his soul peeking through his features. I want to say more, just so that he doesn’t leave. Our houses are right there but, I feel so ... multicoloured.

“I paint in my head sometimes,” I blurt. Dumb. So unbelievably dumb. “That’s why I was so quiet, I was painting.”

“Oh that’s cool. Saves paper, I suppose. Better for the trees, and that.” Stalling. He’s stalling. I’ve made it weird. I always make it weird. “So ... were you painting anything specific?”

“You.” Oh, fucking hell! I’ve ruined it - I’ve smeared on that last glob of un-erasable acrylic and ruined the painting. I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t even mean to say it, it just ... popped out. And now he’s stood, gawping, eyes wide and face flushed. I’ve embarrassed him. I’ve gone and dumped all my greedy keenness on him, completely uninvited, and now he’s drowning in it.

Everything feels tight. The air, suddenly too humid to swallow. I’m gasping - Waves of breath crashing, loudly, in my ears. Panic. I’m panicking. I need to - I have to go.

So, for the second time today, I run. Spinning on my heels and darting back towards my house, without as much as a ‘Goodbye”. Away from him. Away from humiliation. Back to my room, where I pull the blinds shut and open up my pad - Briskly skipping over today’s work. A blank page. A fresh start. I really am no good at talking the normal way.

[starker-stories]

The Dick Pic (v2)

On AO3 by @thestarkerisobvious​ and @starker-stories​

When we first posted this story, it was helpfully pointed out that the beginning was confusing in relation to the rest of it. And it was. Thank you for that constructive criticism.

We went back to the original and reworked it. Hopefully it will be less confusing and the point of their argument more clear.

There was debate back and forth between deleting the original post or leaving both up. We finally decided on leaving both up. 

Words: 9815

Tags: Misunderstandings, Dick Pics, College Student Peter Parker, Top Tony Stark, Bottom Peter Parker, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Awkward Conversations

Summary:

One picture.

Two different interpretations of the picture.

One restaurant.

Two people, trying to make themselves understood.

One balcony

Two bodies.

It was a beautiful morning. Peter had actually gotten a full night’s sleep. He was sleeping in his dorm room because Tony was away on business and wouldn’t be back for a few days.

He had awoken from a lovely dream. About Tony, of course. But about Tony when they had been together in Paris. In the dream Tony asked him what he wanted. And Tony gave him everything he asked for. In Paris, Tony told him to be bold. To ask for things that he wanted.

In the dream, as he had in Paris, he shamelessly asked Tony to go down on him. When he woke, his body was more than ready for Tony to do just that. But Tony wasn’t there. Peter was in his dorm room, alone.

He couldn’t have what he wanted that moment, of course. But… he could still ask. Tony liked it when he asked…

It was bold, probably too bold for him. Then again, Tony had encouraged him to be bold. So he boldly took his phone out and took a picture of the subject at hand.

Oh, that was shameless. He blushed, just looking at the picture. Quickly he typed:

Thinking of you.

He thought of several other things he could add to go along with the picture (‘Would you like to taste?’ or ‘Mostly about your mouth’) but in the end he chickened out of every one. In the end, he just hit send. That was enough bold for one day.

He spent the next hour grinning and blushing. He was proud, but he couldn’t tell anybody why. There was no one on campus close enough to announce: ‘Today I sent my very first dick pic’.

~~~~~

Tony looked at the picture Peter had sent with his message. ‘Thinking of you’. Yes, but what thoughts had Peter been thinking?

Well, he had told Peter that he could ask for anything. He wanted to hear every one of Peter’s sexual desires. He didn’t know why he expected that reversing their positions and Peter fucking him wouldn’t be one of them. Things weren’t as neatly defined in Peter’s generation. He’d been with enough younger men to know that.

And he’d broken up with enough of them when it became an issue.

He supposed that a few months was a good run, given his record. After the picture and message, he stopped taking Peter’s calls and any other messages. Whenever he regretted his decision to let Peter go, he simply opened his phone to that last picture.

He missed the kid so much that, a time or two, he considered whether he could tolerate getting fucked just to get Peter back. He’d tried that before, though. Tolerating it once led to twice led to three times led to asks and refusals and arguments and the inevitable breakup that should’ve happened at the start of it all.

Letting Peter’s calls go to voicemail unlistened to and leaving his messages completely unread was easier. The kid would move on and find someone willing to satisfy his needs.

But that was the problem. The kid would move on. The idea of that put such a dull ache deep inside him that he found his finger hovering over the green button whenever Peter called.

That would never do. This wasn’t something that could be talked about over the phone. It was definitely something that couldn’t be talked about anywhere that was near a bed. That led to disaster. And unfortunately, his feelings for Peter weren’t going away by simply ‘ghosting’ the boy. Tony texted Peter. Dinner? 8? Marea? It was his favorite restaurant. They’d been there together before. It might seem like it was going to be nothing more than a make-up date.

~~~~~

Peter’s last two weeks had been a strange kind of slow-motion nightmare. Sometimes everything was normal. He aced his classes. He wowed his study groups. He texted his friends and his friends texted back. Then he would try to set up a date with his boyfriend. He spoke to FRIDAY. FRIDAY would be cheerful as always, explaining why Tony couldn’t talk to him right then. Then he would text ‘I miss you’ and wait to hear some response. Finally giving up and going to bed. Wake up in the morning and start the entire miserable process over again.

He kept thinking about Paris. Their trip to Paris was memorable for so many reasons. Not just because Tony set out to spoil Peter rotten with fine wine, good food, and crowded sightseeing spots closed down just for them, but because of what they did in the hotel bedroom that night.

Tony had invited Peter into his bed, and had invited him there to do more than just fuck. But what Tony had invited him there to do, Peter wasn’t completely sure was possible. But it was possible. Peter had opened up to Tony that night. Told him things he hadn’t told anyone, had no plans to tell anyone.

He would never forget Tony’s words. ‘I brought you here because it’s the most romantic city in the world. Because it’s what I think of when I look at you. I think of how much I’m in love with you, and how much I want to make you happy.’

Peter was happy. He was lying on a bed in a hotel room in Paris, with Tony Stark sitting next to him, saying ‘I love you’. What else could any human being want? It wasn’t expensive gifts, the exclusive restaurants, or the limo rides everywhere. That was Tony’s life, and he was inviting Peter to be a part of it. Peter freely accepted that invitation.

‘I want you’, he told Tony when the man asked what he wanted.

‘And I want you’, Tony said back. Only then he asked, ‘But how do you want me?’

Peter remembered saying, ‘Forever’.

And Peter remembered Tony saying, ‘Only that long?’

So he told himself he was being ridiculous. He trusted Tony. As Spider-Man, he trusted Iron Man with his life. As Peter Parker, he trusted Tony Stark enough to tell him things he had never told anyone. He was in love. He just had to remember that he was in love with an incredibly busy man. Dating Tony meant sharing him with the rest of the world. “I’ll just be patient,” he told himself. “I’ll be the most patient boyfriend that ever lived.”

Sometimes he wondered why he was so utterly and thoroughly unlovable. Why would Tony want to date a kid like him? A kid with so little sexual experience, a kid who had admitted to an entire, itemized list of fears? He was unlovable. Tony was proof.

Tony had been his first serious boyfriend (serious boyfriend? Tony had been his only boyfriend.) Sometimes he convinced himself that he would just live like a monk, a monk who fought crime and worshiped a far-off, unavailable man. It wasn’t the strangest superhero backstory in the world.

Sometimes Peter was angry. He had admitted to things, admitted to things he never thought he would tell anybody. It seemed like a good idea at the time. And what had been his reward? To be ghosted by Tony Stark, apparently.

But Tony hadn't broken up with him, that much was certain. Peter checked his email, his phone messages, every social media account he had a million times. Checked them every morning. Sometimes got up and checked them in the dead of the night. Waiting. Waiting for the explanation that would never come.

Almost two weeks to the day, he received the message. His whole body sagged in relief. He hugged his phone to his chest tightly and did a little dance. Grinned from ear to ear. It was okay. They were going to Marea and everything was going to be okay.

~~~~~

Slowly, very slowly, Peter was getting the idea that everything was not okay.

They were seated to Tony’s usual table. Menus and orders taken, wine brought and served. During which Tony was near silent, making only the barest conversation that politeness required. Not only to the servers, but to Peter as well.

When the meal arrived, Peter realized he was going to have difficulty eating. His stomach was in knots. Something was obviously wrong.

“Pete,” Tony said casually, after he finished another bite. “What did you mean by that last picture you sent me?”

“Oh, I meant that I was going to not be late for our lab session because I whipped through my differential equations test in record time and I was actually ten minutes early? Except you weren't in the lab?”

Tony looked puzzled. “No. The last picture you sent. What were you trying to imply by that? Something you want?”

“I guess… I guess I was…” Peter dropped his eyes. “I guess I was bragging that I finished it faster than anyone in the class. The professor said it was faster than anyone he had ever seen and asked me to be his TA next year…

“I mean I wasn’t bragging… but I was. And you didn’t notice.”

“It sure looked like you were bragging. And wanting something other than an A on your exam.”

“In differential equations? We’re talking about Tuesday, right?” Peter took out his own phone and looked for the last pic he sent — which was from differential equations.

“I don’t know the date… I guess it was a Saturday or a Sunday. Maybe Sunday morning… yeah I think Sunday morning and you don’t have differential equations on a Saturday, so no, not that… Did you send me something about that too?”

“Something about… what?” Peter reached out and snatched Tony’s phone from where he set it on the corner of the table. He had prided himself on his patience this week, but his patience was coming to an end. He opened the message app, found his name, and scrolled to the end of the messages, then back to find the ones that had pictures attached. A cute squirrel in Central Park, a sunset behind Stark tower from the top of another building that he took just to text ‘I Miss You’. Finally, the finished test he’d mentioned twice. The one Tony hadn’t even acknowledged.

“There are things that haven’t come up before between us. And we haven’t exactly talked about the things that have come up between us. And that would be a pretty large thing to discuss. What exactly did you mean by sending me that picture?”

“Are we talking about the picture of the spider I sent?” Peter asked, scrolling again. “You never told me you were squicked out by spiders. I’m just a spider fan. You knew that. Everyone expected me to be an entomologist.” He shrugged, guiltily. “I just like math more.”

Finally, Tony grabbed his phone back. He scrolled through the messages until he found the one. He set his phone upside down on the table so no one else could see, then he slid it over to Peter.

Peter looked at it, started visibly, looked around to make sure no one saw it, then he grinned and ducked his head and blushed. Damn, he had felt so bold when he woke up with that in the morning. What was he thinking?

Oh yeah — he had been thinking…

“Well, you’re always telling me how pretty it is…”

“I’m into a lot of things, but there are some I’m not thrilled about.”

“I had a dream about you,” he said as quietly as he could and still be heard. “And I woke up thinking about you, and that was the result.”

“What kind of dream are we talking about? There wasn’t exactly a clear message with it.”

Peter looked confused. He started to speak then stopped. This was very hard to talk about in a restaurant. So he considered the possibilities. He grabbed his own phone and started texting quickly.

Was that really your first dick pic? I’m sorry I never thought. You were the first person to even walk AROUND with a phone in your pocket so I just didn’t think. I’m sorry. All you had to do was say you didn’t want that. Did you open it in a meeting or something?

It was ridiculous to sit there and text someone two feet away. Tony had no shame about talking about the issue in public.

“No, that’s not the first dick pic I’ve ever been sent. The angle and the way you were holding it… that is a first time without implying something by it.”

Peter put his phone down in frustration. He remembered exactly the kind of mood he had been in when he had taken that picture. Bold as brass. Fearless. Amazing. He didn't feel amazing right now. “I can’t really answer that question in a restaurant.

“But... remember when you took me to Paris? It was about Paris. Well it was sort of Paris... but yeah. That’s what it was about.” He tried not to sound hurt, but he was feeling hurt. How hard was it to say ‘don’t send me dick pics’? And why was Tony ignoring everything that came after that?

“Look, there are things I’m just not into,” Tony said firmly, irritated by the kid’s inability to comprehend. “If that’s what you're going to be needing out of this, you’re gonna have to find it elsewhere.”

Peter pulled his chair up to the table as far as he could and leaned in, whispering. “It implies you want to see it. Because you keep telling me you like to see it.”

His chest ached. It hurt to breathe. What Tony had said to him, and convinced him to say, in Paris meant so much to him. He’d never forgotten it. And he could never discuss it in a restaurant.

“Yeah, it’s beautiful. You’ve got a big, nicely shaped cock and I don’t mind seeing it. Like seeing it, actually. But that picture was… different from the dick pics I usually get.”

Tony flipped his phone face up, the picture clearly visible to anyone walking past their table. At that point, making Peter feel uncomfortable was almost part of it. The kid certainly made him uncomfortable the morning he got that. Especially after the way things had been going so well between them.

Peter tried desperately not to gape. It was instinct, not to let your opponent know when you were hurt in battle. But dammit, he was hurt. “‘Things I’m just not into’? Squirrels, sunsets and spiders? Or, more importantly, ‘the things you think about during the day, and your triumphs and proud moments’? Because once upon a time, Tony, you seemed to care about those things a great deal.”

But now words like ‘angle’ and ‘holding it’ and ‘different’ began to register. Suddenly, he found himself getting angry.

“Give me your damn phone.” He grabbed it off the table.

He scrolled through Tony’s phone wondering if someone else was sending Tony dick pics. In which case he was really going to lose his patience. But no, there it was. His cock. Huge and lovely and hard. Hard because he was remembering the incredible things Tony had done to him in Paris. Huge because he had, with his sudden surge of confidence, placed the phone directly beside it. What could he say? He had woken up feeling cocky.

He didn’t feel cocky now. He put the phone in his lap, shielding it from other eyes, and analyzed the angle.

“I haven’t exactly been answering my messages or downloading the photos attached to them lately, so forgive me if I’ve had an entirely different subject on my mind than squirrels and differential equations."

“Well, we haven't talked in two weeks, so I have no idea what’s been on your mind,” Peter hissed.

Patience. Patience patience patience. He could swallow all this hurt and pretend it wasn’t there, he was a master at that. He was good at it. (He had practice.) But right now he was looking at the picture of what he’d wanted Tony to praise (right before devouring it) and wondering if that was ever going to happen again.

“That,” Tony said when Peter had taken his phone off the table again. “That’s been on my mind. Hard to get anything else on my mind. What, exactly, did you mean by sending me that? Because, like I said, if you want to fuck my ass, you’re going to have to find somebody else’s ass to fuck.” He shrugged. “Which, I can work with, I guess. Not the first open relationship I've had to have because of differing sexual appetites.”

“It’s a right angle, Tony. 90°. It’s just… you used to say it was ‘so pretty’ and you… wanted it in your mouth. And I woke up dreaming of the things you said to me in Paris before you… before we… and I woke up. And I was thinking about you. That’s what I wrote. That’s what I meant by…

“…wait… what? Tony for god’s sake… Tony? Only you would try to have this conversation in a restaurant.”

“It’s not a problem. Guys grow up and have different tastes when they do. It’s not like I didn't have a fair number of experiences in that direction when I was younger.

“It’s just not my… not interested in that anymore. Haven’t been for a very long time. And I don't see myself particularly wanting to get fucked any time soon. Not even by you, sorry.”

“You have a fair number of experiences debating the angle of my penis over dinner in a restaurant!?” Peter laughed, overwhelmed by the surreality of the conversation. “You were right, Tony — your life was a lot different than mine.”

“Well actually, not your penis. but not the first one I’ve discussed over dinner in a restaurant. Usually as a prelude to heading to the bathroom with the other guy in said restaurant. But that’s not the point.”

“I have no idea what the fuck you are talking about!” Peter whispered angrily. Except he wasn’t exactly whispering anymore. This was the strangest conversation he had ever had in his life. He was beginning to lean into the strange.

“Oh my god. One minute I’m working up the nerve to admit that I still dream about what happened in Paris and the next minute we’re discussing why it’s wrong that I want to… I don’t even know what. This is insane.”

Tony just shook his head. He was being pretty clear, he thought. “We’re talking about whether or not you want to fuck me, that’s what we’re talking about. Because that’s just not something I’m into. But if it’s something you’re into, I’ve got no trouble with you finding it elsewhere. Well, actually I do, but I’m prepared to adjust my expectations.

“Wait…” Tony furrowed his brow. “Paris? What the fuck does this have to do with me sucking you off?”

“I’m sorry I sent you the wrong kind of dick pic and I have no idea why you think I was thinking of that, but I’m just about at the end of my rope. I’m in over my head here.”

“The only time I’ve ever gotten a picture like that was from someone who had very different ideas about my sexual tastes. It’s pretty much a ‘sit on this’ pic, don’t you think?”

There were tears behind Peter’s eyes. All of his talks to himself about ‘patience’ were drying up. He didn’t have it in him to explain what Paris had meant to him, at least not in a public place. Maybe in the dark, in Tony’s arms, maybe. But not while the man was spouting nonsense.

He took a deep breath. “No, Tony. It was a, you told me it was ‘gorgeous�� pic. It was a, you told me you ‘want to suck on it’ pic. For god’s sakes Tony, you told me once you wanted me to c… to leave a wet spot on your bed for you to find when you got home. I’m sorry about your past lovers but I’m not really responsible for them. I’m only responsible for myself.” His voice broke a little. He wasn't feeling very responsible right now.

Dammit, he had done everything right. He had been the proper amount of sexy and tried to hide all the shyness. He had tried to be bold when Tony wanted him to be bold. He had been patient. He had been positive. He was even attempting to have this incredibly personal conversation in a public place because Tony wanted to. He had done his best. But his best wasn’t good enough.

“Jesus Peter, how many different ways do I have to tell you this. I love you. I love what we do in bed together. There are directions I’m willing to expand into that and explore, but me getting fucked isn’t one of them. It’s not something I’m into. It wasn’t even something I was into back when I was young enough that that was all anyone wanted me to do. It’s just that’s the way it goes when you’re the age I was then. But eventually you get old enough to tell the other guy ‘no, I’d rather fuck you instead’. So, if you’re getting to that age, we’re going to have to talk in terms of how you can get what you want in that direction, because it isn’t going to be me.”

Tony had been keeping his voice calm and quiet the whole time, not even letting his exasperation come through in any way except his word choices. Peter was a smart kid, surely he understood the words that were being said.

Peter pressed his water glass against his face. He knew his skin was flushed and he felt overheated. He took the napkin from his lap and dipped it in the ice water and dabbed his forehead. It was probably a rude thing to do in this expensive restaurant, but what the hell? It couldn’t be worse than discussing the angle of the dick pic on Tony’s phone.

He took a deep breath and tried to say something that made sense. “Well, I guess I should say thank you for thinking that I’m old enough to be changing my tastes… I guess. If that’s really a thing you outgrow. But this is all coming out of left field for me.”

Taking another deep breath he thought back over what Tony had said. “And I love you too. I’m sorry people did things to you when you were young that you didn’t like. But if this is a ‘stage’ for me, a ‘stage’ I’m going to ‘grow out of’, I’d estimate you have another good ten to twenty years before that happens. I can’t see ever getting tired of it. But I guess you know better than I do… except…

“Except…” he said, looking back into Tony’s face. He could talk about science. Science was easy.

“Except it seems like you think we are both going to have the same experience, and the data doesn’t point that way. The data doesn’t point at all. You’re talking about societal expectations versus actual personal preference and there’s no reason to assume I’m going to ‘grow out’ of being… who I am.”

“It’s not a thing some people outgrow, but others do. There’s a certain expectation that the younger person bottoms, but then, as they start getting older, they find out that’s not really their thing. Or that they’d been putting up with it because they were expected to, even if they didn't like it much… or at all.

“Other guys don’t outgrow it. They’re just that way. Which is what I was hoping it would be with you. Because, if you wanted to, if it was a dealbreaker and you’d leave me over it… I guess… it’s not unendurable if it wasn’t often.”

Deep breaths and factual statements were helping incredibly. Tony’s voice was calm and that helped too. Speaking calmly and factually about these things means that things were actually okay — they could talk about more personal, painful things later. In private. Hopefully while naked.

“Well, I appreciate that your generation couldn’t exactly go to the library and do as much research as I did when I first identified as gay, so there's that…

"But, help me out, Tony. I sat down at dinner and suddenly you start talking about me ‘leaving you’ and I’ve got whiplash here. Literally the last thing I sent you was a picture of a squirrel.”

Tony raised his eyebrow. Peter was always a quick study and never this blindingly obtuse. Maybe it was the subject. He needed it explained more simply and perhaps repeatedly.

“Some guys are bent in one direction and others in the opposite. I’m pretty much bent only in one direction. I knew that the odds of you staying bent in yours weren’t great. Most guys fall in the more flexible position. I’m just saying that I’m not one of them. But if you are, as long as you didn’t have any sort of… emotional bond with whoever you hooked up with… I’d… adjust.

“This isn’t something even your generation goes to look up in the library, Because most of your generation is more flexible. It’s assumed that you both will, I don’t know, toss a coin for it, I suppose. I don't know how it works.

“The implications of what you sent kind of overrode my reaction to one of your daily messages of the sort I like getting from you.”

Peter opened his mouth but then closed it again. He looked at Tony’s face, and he stopped completely and took stock. He thought about the damn squirrel. He thought about how he aced the test that he wanted to brag about. And he thought about waking up with a raging hard-on and the need to brag about that too. And he thought about how much it hurt when Tony seemed to be ignoring him and what that meant. He took a deep breath, looked Tony in the eye, and spoke.

“I don’t want to ‘hook up’ Tony. With anybody. I don’t think you understand… it’s not that way for me. I don’t want to be with other people. I guess I should have told you that before. I don’t want to… even if there was someone else I actually wanted to… I don’t want to be with anyone else. I love you. I want…”

It would have been hard for Peter to do this in the dark, in Tony's arms. But dammit, this was Tony’s world. The world where you just have these conversations in the open. So he did it. For Tony. “I want to be yours. I want to belong to you.”

Of course, he barely got the words out. It was hard to talk without air. But his mouth formed around the words, which was something.

“I want the same thing. I love you, Peter. I love what we do in bed together. But, in bed, there are things I don’t love. Even if I do love the person who’s asking for them. That is what I’m saying.”

Being told what Tony wanted was almost as good as being held, so he held onto those words. And the words ‘I love you’. He took a deep breath, relieved, and tried to listen to the rest of what Tony was saying.

“All I need for us to be together is for you to understand…” He looked down at his phone, thinking about that doomed message that was supposed to be about Paris and wound up being about something else entirely. “…this is all very important to me, Tony. I guess I shouldn’t be ashamed of it, but I am, because I’m supposed to be all casual about some things and I can’t be. I don’t want to be with anyone else. And of course… I want to be in your life. I want that more than anything else.”

“I don’t like to share. Not you. Especially not you,” Tony said, admitting an inconvenient truth. The truth that led him to making this date instead of simply continuing to ‘ghost’ Peter until he went away.

“Which is also not in keeping with the way people of your generation approach things, I know. You’re not the first guy under thirty that I’ve been with. I know things have changed a lot. What’s expected of relationships. Inflexibility and possessiveness are definitely not the mode. But they’re where I’m at and it’s hard to see me changing that. I’m possessive. I don’t want to share the person I’m in love with, that I want in my life… for the rest of it.”

“I don’t want you to share… I don’t want to be shared! And I know I’m not normal for my generation or for my anything… and I tried so hard to… gosh maybe I should have told you sooner. Maybe I need to stop trying to be ‘normal’. I don’t see why I have to change. I just want to belong to you. I don’t want… I’m not interested in ‘hook ups’ and I’m tired of pretending that I… that I get it. I don’t. I can’t see being with someone and not… well you know. Blurting out everything I feel. I can’t really stop.”

“Baby, I am in love with you. And that doesn’t come without the possessive part. It’s worse with you though. Maybe because I’ve never really… felt this with anyone else. Not like this. Not like I feel with you.”

“Wait…” Peter stopped, the pieces suddenly falling together in his head. “Did you… did you just really volunteer to bottom for me?”

Tony sighed heavily.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you in my life. Like I said, it won’t have been the first time I’ve been fucked. I just never liked it. Not even when I was your age. It was just the way things were back then. Before a certain age, you were expected to bottom. And past a certain age, you were expected to change and to want to top.

“I wanted to be with guys and if that meant turning up my ass to get the rest of what I was looking for, I did it. But then I got to a point in age where I didn’t have to put up with it.”

"Tony, for gods’ sake I don’t want you to… why would I want you to turn up your ass when…” But he couldn’t really say more. Not here. He covered his face and whispered behind his hand. “When you do so many amazing things to me?”

“I can't stand the idea of losing you.”

Peter reached out for Tony's hand. “I love you.” It was like a dream come true, and while he wasn’t sure he had dreamed about it happening in a public place, well, here it was. “I love you and you’re never going to lose me.”

He wanted to say ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone else’, but it was a silly thing to say. He had been in love with Tony Stark his whole life. He had felt this way about Tony forever.

Tony held Peter's hand, his thumb caressing the back of it. “You got together with me while you’re still so young. Before you have had time, really, to explore things you might find out you like or prefer better. I’ve had plenty of years to experience everything on the menu and you’ve just had one taste.

“I don’t want to hold you back, even though I don't want to let you go.”

“Tony, can we… leave? Please? I don’t want to talk about this here.”

“Okay, we can leave. It’s just… if it turned out that’s what you did mean by that picture… It felt safer here, than at home, to discuss these matters.”

“Wait… what? Now I’m really confused. Why would you want to discuss it here and not…” He didn’t want to say ‘in your arms’. It still felt very immature. “…at home?”

“Why here? No particular reason as to the venue, but some things are just safer talked about in a public place until they’re sorted and both people are on the same page. Where the bed is far away and not an option for where to discuss them.”

“Tony, I want you to teach me those other things on the menu. I don’t want to be with anyone else. We’re not talking about trying on different styles of shoe here. I… can’t do that with other people, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. I know I’m supposed to want to be casual with other people because of my age but I don't. And I’m trying to tell you, I don’t want to feel ashamed of that anymore. I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t have to. I can be a Tony-sexual and not apologize for that. You’re not ‘holding me back’ you’re loving me and I’m loving you and there’s nothing bad about that.”

“Since I’m rather Peter-sexual, you being me-sexual is a good thing. Because I already have enough issues struggling not to take someone apart who looks at you for too long. Having someone actually touch you? When you belong to me? That's unsustainable.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. And beam. Maybe blush a little. The idea that Tony wanted to ‘take someone apart’ just for looking?

"Okay. So we’re both very much alike in the me-sexual way. And we’re both very different about where we like to talk about private things. And we’re not going to talk about me being with someone else in bed because I hate that idea. And you’re going to stop volunteering to do something you don’t like because I really hate that idea. Is that sorted out enough? Can we go home now? I kinda need to.”

They weren’t going to just walk home hand in hand, no. Peter was going to hold Tony’s hand and use his other hand to hold into Tony’s arm too. He hoped Tony wouldn’t mind.

But Tony draped his arm over Peter’s shoulders as they walked back, holding him close, making sure that no one would possibly think that he wasn’t very much taken.

“So all this was just a case of bad lighting, poor camera angle choices, and you making yourself less than clear about the meaning of that particular picture of your, yes, very lovely, dick, hmm?” Tony asked with a sly smile.

Peter reached up and grabbed the hand draping over his shoulder. As they walked he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Tony… you’re going to have to find me an online course on ‘how to take a dick pic’ because I have no idea how that looked like anything other than a yummy snack.”

“I’ll send you a few examples, if you want,” Tony said smiling, “Because I don't want you looking at anyone else’s dick pics, not even as a course of online study.”

Peter smiled. “Deal.”

“So the way things have been with us? That’s good for you? You mentioned Paris… Those are some very good memories we made there. Apparently inspiring in your dreams, huh?” he said with a little smirk. “What parts, exactly, were so inspirational? I can’t understand unless you tell me. Explicitly. In detail.”

“Please Tony, not here…” Peter groaned and looked around them. New York City. People everywhere. But then again… wasn't talking the point? So he tried to be brave again, and spoke. He spoke almost directly into Tony's ear, but he spoke.

“You made me tell you what I wanted. You made me put it into words. And it was impossible to say those things without telling you how they made me feel. How you made me feel so safe and wanted and beautiful and so… yours. And I told you that I loved you. And I could, because suddenly I wasn’t afraid anymore.

“And I told you and I couldn’t be anything but honest and that was okay. Because that’s what you wanted. And I told you about all the things I was afraid of, and you made that okay too. And when I knew it was okay to be afraid, then I wasn’t afraid anymore.

“And also you made me come three times in one night. There was that.”

~~~~~

They were making out hot and heavy in the elevator, Peter boldly pulling Tony’s shirt free from his trousers and sneaking his hands underneath. As the doors opened they stumbled out. Peter had Tony’s face in both hands, trying to kiss him and lead him into the penthouse at the same time.

“I want it to be you, Tony. Whatever it is, whatever you want to do, I want it to be you. I want you to be the first.” He’d made himself giggle, trying to kiss Tony and talk at the same time. He only had one glass of wine at dinner, but now he felt drunk.

“That’s what I want. I just thought there was another first you wanted with me, and that’s not going to be a first we can share. Unless it…” Tony sighed. It was a difficult choice. “Yes, okay. I’d rather it be me than anyone else. The thought of anyone else touching you… In any way…” Tony said fiercely.

“Oh god, say it again, tell me I’m yours, Tony. Tell me no one gets to touch me but you…”

“I don’t want anyone touching you but me. I want you entirely to myself. I’m selfish and possessive and irrational on that subject.”

Peter laughed in relief and joy. Laughing directly into Tony’s mouth seemed rude so he leaned his head back and laughed that way. He felt giddy. “Yes, please yes. Please. I want to get ‘Property Of Tony Stark’ tattooed across my back.

“Oh god no. Please no. Do you have any idea how many people did that hoping I’d be impressed and it would become true? Nope. No. No way.”

“Ah damn, then I’ll think of something else.”

“I can think of something that will make sure everyone knows you belong to me,” Tony said with a smirk. “Not telling you yet though.”

“I want you to be my first time, Tony, all my first times. I don’t know what else to have first times for, but please think of some and then be my first.”

“Oh baby, we haven’t even touched one tenth of the first times you can have. There are entire places on that beautiful body of yours that I haven’t made love to yet. Much less places we can do it in. Positions. Locations. Methods. I can be very imaginative.”

“Oh god yes locations! Locations. I’ll let you take me anywhere on the globe, anywhere, I won’t protest, I swear.” He felt too dizzy to walk. He kept his arms around Tony’s neck as they tried to move away from the elevator. It made them move slowly, but he was afraid to let go.

“Then that just makes ‘first times’ at least several hundred locations. Sixty of them owned by me. Several rented. And then there are hotels to stay at.

“All of them, Tony. Each one. We have years.”

“We happen to find ourselves in the penthouse tonight and I’m not willing to wait til the jet can fly us somewhere else. But there are many many things we’ve yet to do right here.

“Yes,” Peter said, kissing him again. “Anything.”

“Anything I want?”

“Oh… crap…” Peter pulled his head away a little and tried to clear it. He had to be honest… Being honest had been a big deal to him since Paris. And ‘anything’ was a very big word.

“Unh unh. You already agreed. No backing out now, beautiful.” Tony kissed Peter deeply.

“Okay,” he whimpered a bit against Tony’s mouth. “…but you also said I had to tell you the truth about being afraid of bedroom things so I’m trying to do both.

“All I know is, if I’ve never done it before, I want to do it with you. I need it to be you.”

“Oh you’ve done this before. It’s not a first in that way. You did say locations, though. I was listening very closely, Pete. I always listen to you.”

“Oh… oh good.” He grinned from ear to ear. Tony listening to him was all he wanted.

“Hmm. First, location. Time for other things later.” Tony took Peter’s hand and started slowly walking him away from the elevator doors, unbuttoning Peter’s shirt, dropping it on the floor, kissing him as they walked, unbuttoning his pants while he was being kissed and walked, pushing his pants and underwear down and nearly tripping the kid when they got hung up on his shoes.

Peter was too happy to think straight. He happily helped Tony get him undressed as they walked. If they were headed to the bedroom to do it on the bed, he didn’t care. Just as long as he was skin-to-skin with his lover soon.

When Peter’s shirt came off, Tony’s quickly did too. When Peter’s pants came off, Tony was a little more deft, realizing shoes were a thing and toeing his off as he stepped out of his jeans. They were naked together, Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, anything to keep him distracted from where he was walking him to. Which wasn’t the bedroom. They were still in the living room for now.

Tony slowed their walk as they passed the console table. He opened the drawer and grabbed one of the small bottles of lube he had hidden all over the penthouse. As he wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist, he kept the bottle in one hand. He started kissing Peter again, edging their progress along the large glass wall.

“Ever get fucked 96 stories in the air before?” Tony kissed him again.

“The… the window? Oh Tony…”

“Not the window, baby. I’m gonna bend you over the balcony railing, looking straight down to the ground. Where anyone over there in One Vanderbilt will be able to see you bent over, taking my cock in your ass. Watch you getting the glass messy.”

“No no no. Tony, we’re outside!”

“Um hmm. Outside where they can see how beautiful you are. You are so beautiful Peter. Stunning. You belong to me and you’re one more thing that’s beautiful and mine that they can only look at.

“But Tony… Tony… Tony…”

“But don’t worry, baby. All they’re going to see is how lucky I am to have the most handsome young man in the city all to myself.

“But Tony…”

He held Peter close and kissed along his jaw until he was whispering in his ear. “But what, baby? You know you’re beautiful. You know your mine. You know how much I want you.”

Tony gently turned Peter around, holding him by the waist, pressed up against his back, nuzzling into the nape of his neck. “The lights from all those people out there… Not one of them has anyone as beautiful as you.” Tony kept shifting the lube bottle from hand to hand as he touched Peter, so the kid never knew it was there. Ever since Peter had noticed and remarked on it, it was a game Tony liked to play against himself. How to do the ‘magically appearing lube’ trick.

“But Tony… I… I… Tony I… ” Peter took in great gulping lungfuls of air. He had no fear of heights, never had. In fact he thought Tony’s balcony was one of the most beautiful places on earth. But he was outside, and completely naked, and that was just all kinds of wrong.

But then again, Tony was naked too. Naked, and pressed up against his back and saying the most beautiful things. Peter took another deep breath.

“Okay. I can do it,” he whispered. “If you stay close.”

“Where else would I be, Peter. I won’t let you be anywhere but close to me.” Tony’s hand wandered over his body. Up along his stomach, his chest, his neck, holding him there just a second before moving down his sides to his hip. He moved Peter’s ass back against him.

Peter gasped at the feel of Tony’s hand on his hips and moaned as he felt where Tony was moving him. He needed to make himself understood before he was beyond speech.

Reaching behind him he found the back of Tony’s head and pulled it to his own, until he had Tony’s face pressed against his face. “No, I mean stay close.”

“Baby, I’m gonna be right there kissing those pretty curls on your neck. I can’t resist them. I’ve gotta taste your skin. I’ve gotta put those beautiful marks on it. The ones I don’t even share with you. The ones that show that you’re mine.

“I love that no one else has ever touched you. No one else will ever touch you.” Tony rocked up against Peter, growing hard, frotting along the crack of his ass. His hand slid down from his waist to rest on his belly, just above his cock. He held the solid warmth of it there, then moved lower.

“I should let you have all the experiences someone your age would have. But all of those are mine too.”

“Yes, yes... yes,” he chanted, loving every word that was whispered against his ear. “Yes Tony.

“Oh… but we forgot… you forgot…” Peter stopped and blushed and looked back a little. Tony had supplies hidden all over the penthouse, making sex possible in just about every room. But there were no night tables on the balcony.

Suddenly he found himself grinning. “You’ll have to go back for the lube.”

“I will?” he asked skeptically. To be the ultimate of sneaky, he’d have to not touch Peter with either hand and Peter had asked him to stay close. He wouldn’t let go.

“Not just yet. Kiss me again… oh…”

Tony opened the bottle, giving it a squeeze, and let it run down the crack of Peter’s ass. He bent over Peter’s back a little more and set the bottle on the tile. His finger stroked through the thick lube, pushing it between Peter’s cheeks, fingertip swirling around Peter’s opening.

“Oh Tony…” Peter whispered. He couldn’t say much else. He was trying to remember to breathe. Tony had touched him like this many times, but being touched this way outside? It was somehow a completely different sensation. Still, he knew Tony liked it when he said something other than “Oh Tony.” So he tried again.

“Please keep talking to me.”

Tony was surprised that Peter could say anything, even at this early state. His voice was thin and reedy, almost carried away on the night air. He bent over the boy and kissed between his shoulder blades.

His voice was a low rumble against Peter’s back. “Do you want me to tell you how hot this beautiful place on your body makes me feel? Or perhaps how very special it is that you let me touch you here. That you let me own you here.” He paused. “Or perhaps you’d like me to tell you that there is someone on the 85th floor of One Vanderbilt watching us?”

“Stop…” Peter giggled. He didn’t really believe it, but he also didn’t care. In this moment, with Tony touching him there, no one else mattered in the world.

“Baby, you are always beautiful. But up here? Up where we fly? Where it’s just us? Beautiful doesn’t touch it.”

“Yes, it’s ours,” Peter murmured, hooking his arm behind him so he could stroke Tony’s hair. “Our sky.”

“I want to always see your skin glowing with the city lights. Like it was in Paris.” Tony pressed the head of his cock lightly where his fingers had been. Not entering. Just giving Peter exactly what they both wanted, knowing what they both liked.

“Oh Tony, what are you doing to me?” Peter murmured, eyes half-closed. He could do that, he realized. Could close his eyes and just concentrate on the sensation, on the sound of Tony’s voice, on the warm, solid presence of Tony’s body. Forget, for a moment, that they were outside. Forget that they were on display.

Tony stayed bent across Peter’s back. “I’m touching you,”

He guided the tip of his cock inside. “I’m touching you.”

He wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist and held his hand low across the boy’s belly. “I’m touching you.”

He let his cock go with his other hand, wiping it quickly on his own hip. He tangled his fingers in Peter’s hair with a slight tug. “I’m touching you.”

“Yes, please yes…” Peter moaned. He leaned back into Tony’s embrace, eyes closed, and waited. Tony would tease his opening like this for quite a while, he knew. Tony knew how much he enjoyed it.

But then again tonight was different. Two weeks ago he had done what Tony had told him to do — he had dared to request something bold. It backfired terribly, but ultimately it had paid off. Ultimately, it led them both here. To a better place. He was going to remember tonight. Tonight should be different.

Turning his head slightly, until his lips were touching Tony’s face, he kissed his lover, screwed up his courage, and whispered “Fuck me.”

Tony pressed the head of his cock in very slowly, waiting to feel that little pop as Peter closed around behind it. He held still at that point. “Is this what you want? Tell me what you want. Tell me again.”

Peter took a deep, steadying breath. It wasn’t as hard to do once Tony stopped moving. That was the beauty of this game Tony played. Knowing that Tony wouldn’t move until he was able to speak made speaking so much easier. Gave him room to breathe. He did that now.

Looking up at the sky gave him courage. Knowing that it was their playground, their territory, made him braver even though he wasn’t wearing the suit.

Keeping his eyes on it, on the sky, he knew he could do it. Firmly, he reached up and took Tony’s hand away from his head. Firmly, he took both of Tony’s hands and guided them to his hips, never taking his eyes off the sky. Firmly, he spoke.

“Fuck me,” he growled. “Don’t be gentle.”

Tony kept one hand gripping Peter’s hip. The other arm he wrapped tightly around his waist, almost completely encircling it, putting his other hand next to the first on Peter’s same hip. Holding him firm, making sure that he wouldn’t accidentally push him over the railing — not a fun way to end the evening — Tony pulled back and thrust into Peter all at once, fast, hard, not at all gentle.

“You think you can handle that, baby?” Tony asked.

“More…”

Tony reached up and grabbed Peter by the top of his hair, yanking it hard, pulling his back up against his chest so tightly he could feel the cold metal circle of the arc reactor between his shoulder blades. He fucked upwards, lifting Peter onto his toes with the force of it.

Peter let out a sharp cry of surprise. Normally he bit his mouth down hard when he heard his voice. It always sounded too loud to his own ears. But being outside, he realized very suddenly, had an advantage. Instead of biting down he opened his mouth and let it hang open. Then, whatever happened, happened.

He landed Peter onto the flat of his feet when he pulled back, then lifted him up again when he entered. Tony couldn’t get very deep in this position, but Peter’s cries were very satisfying. Not gentle, not quiet, at all. But loud. Louder than Peter ever dared in the bedroom. He knew they were carried away on the wind. Off to the skies where they both felt at home.

What Tony was doing to him was a very different sensation, and for several moments he let Tony continue. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t deep either. As soon as he was able, he caught his breath long enough to speak. “Stop… stop…” he gasped, reaching back and touching Tony’s hip.

Tony settled Peter down onto his feet again, pulling back, leaving only the head inside him. “What, baby? What do you want?”

“Back up… back up a step…” Peter managed. It wasn’t easy to talk without air, but Peter didn’t want to wait to catch his breath. He pushed Tony back a few steps until he was able to lean forward, putting himself more at a 90° angle. Then he looked back with (what he hoped was) a wicked grin. “Now do it.”

Tony kissed the grin off Peter’s lips and then figuring out what he wanted, returned that grin with a smirk. He slipped out from him and raised Peter up a few inches to where he was bent over the narrow pane of the short glass balcony wall until the boy was looking straight down at the ground, 96 floors below, bent at that 90° angle he was asking for.

“You’ve climbed the tower before, Spider-Man. Get sticky and hold yourself up.”

“Oh fuck Tony,” he gasped, but his hands found exactly what they needed instantly.

“Yes.”

“Hold on tight, Pete,” Tony said, guiding himself inside again, then giving a hard push to seat himself. When Spider-Man stayed stuck and didn’t move with the force of his thrust, he increased that force and slammed in.

Looking straight down from great heights was nothing new to Peter, nor was feeling Tony trust deep inside him. But those two things together? Peter was grateful they were outside. The noises he was making now were completely involuntary. He couldn’t have kept quiet if he wanted to.

Peter’s feet were dangling in the air, so Tony held still, buried all the way in, until the kid’s toes found purchase on the inside of the glass the same way his fingers had on the outside of it. Like that, Peter wasn’t going anywhere and Tony let himself go. Fucking hard and fast with deep long strokes.

He knew that Peter always needed a grounding touch, but the position didn’t allow for much of that. So he splayed his hand flat out on the small of his back without pressure but warmth.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, baby. All the beautiful world down there.”

“Fuck, Tony…” was all Peter could manage. He didn’t think Tony could see his face, so he didn’t try to hide his smile. Never in his life had he imagined anyone could fuck him this way.

“And my beautiful world right here so far above the other.”

The sight surrounding them both and the hot, tight sensation of Peter’s ass surrounding him was bringing him close, fast. His stroke grew shallow, his groans joining Peter’s cries on their flight through the New York skies. He let go of Peter’s hip, trusting the boy to hold himself in place, and slid his hand down underneath Peter, wrapping his fingers around the boy’s cock.

Whimpering, Peter lowered himself back to his feet and stood on shaky legs. He kept Tony inside him without effort (it was a good thing, being graceful.) He was so hard he was dizzy, but he concentrated on what Tony wanted to do next.

Back down on earth (well the earth 96 floors above the ground) Tony’s hand sought out all of Peter’s most sensitive places. His thumb sliding just below the slit as his hand stroked the boy’s shaft. He bit his lip trying to hold back his own impending orgasm.

“Oh Tony, what are you doing to me?”

“You’re gonna make my glass messy, baby. Wanna see you dripping down it.”

Peter reached backward with both arms and pressed his hands on Tony’s back. Eyes open, looking up into the sky, he leaned his head back and let it happen. If anyone was listening at that height, they would have no doubt who was fucking the twink at the balcony. Peter shouted Tony’s name endlessly into the night.

Tony watched Peter come on the railing, the sight was almost enough to send him over on its own. The strain of the boy’s body tightening around him… that was always irresistible. But when he heard Peter cry out, scream out his name… Tony hadn’t come so hard in his life.

With both hands on the rail, Peter tried to catch his breath. His head was spinning. He was pretty sure he had just been way too loud, but then again, Tony had been loud too… in fact… had he ever heard Tony be that loud? He couldn’t help but peek, looking back over his shoulder in hopes to catch a glimpse of Tony’s face before he had time to compose himself.

Tony’s mouth was still hanging open (ah, but Tony had been making some loud noises too, Peter was going to remember that) and his eyes were wide, looking up at the sky, just as Peter had done. Peter found himself grinning from ear to ear. It was a very, very rare thing to catch Tony not focusing on him. For a moment, just a moment, he had caught it. An unguarded moment. He treasured it. He wondered if there was a way to find it again.

As Tony slipped out of him he turned around and brought their heads close, draping his hands lightly behind his lover’s head.

“Property of Tony Stark,” Peter murmured, kissing his face. “You’re going to write it across my chest every morning with a sharpie.”

“Nah. Gonna make you write it on my windows with your come. Peter Parker was here. Tony Stark made him messy. Gonna let you write it on my chest when you’re riding me. Make you write it on my sheets.”

“No one will be able to read that,” Peter giggled, leaning his head back and looking up at the sky again. Their sky. His and Tony’s.

He leaned over and kissed Peter. “No one except the cleaning staff,” he said with a shrug.

“But I want everyone to know.”

Tony cupped Peter’s face and brought him into a long, deep kiss. “Baby, when you’re really ready, everyone will know.”

“I’m ready,” Peter whispered.

Anyone could get his name tattooed on their ass. People he never met had it there. He’s signed more girls’ chests with Sharpie than he ever cared to remember. But only one person would ever have something made out of gold-titanium alloy with the words ‘Property of Tony Stark’ engraved inside of it.

“No, Pete, you’re not. But when you are, I’ll be here.”

[senotsuri]

SpiAniAnon- Okay fanfic idea slightly related to the tags about MS failure to be even just decent and how Dan was the only one to break down in show and stuff: Post MS where Dan has a serious sit down with Shun and Marucho to tell them 'hey what you did to me, your friend of 7+ years? that was kind of fucked ya know' Just, let the boys talk things over and junk. Idk I just like my fluff having a spalsh of angst and five tablespoons of hurt/comfort.

“How much do you two care for me, on a scale of 0 to 10, right now? Like, guestimate it.” Dan ventured. This was dangerous territory to teeter into, and he could already feel Shun tense. He wasn’t even touching him physically, and he could still feel his mood shift.

“Uh... Right now? About 8 out of 10,” Marucho guessed, “Not the biggest priority right now, but if something went down, we’re helping. No questions asked.”

Shun didn’t respond, instead drinking his tea. Well timed, and convenient. Dan expected that reaction though.

“... So about 2 years ago when you two left me in the dust,” Dan bristled, “That was kinda fucked, you know? Ok, sure, you guys didn’t know if it was intentional; but considering that I don’t shut up about cool new stuff I’ve found out about, I think you would’ve clocked if it was something I already knew about!” he laughed, alleviating the half of the tension.

“I...” Marucho blinked, “Yeah, honestly that was dumb on my end... And we had no idea what you were going through,”

“Which I never mentioned, because I thought I could handle it, when I couldn’t. Shu--”

“Don’t.” Shun responded softly, and Marucho flinched out a quiet apology, on behalf of himself and Dan. The temporary death of his collective nest of parental figures had massively compromised his emotional state, even if it was only temporary. Monarus nuzzled into Shun’s hand, “I’m not--”

“You can’t deny that it was rude.” Dan replied, hand placed delicately on Shun’s shoulder. Shun tensed, and then slowly relaxed. He was uncertain, still, “But I can’t say at all that it wasn’t deserved. I was as much at fault then as you two were.”

Marucho got up, and wandered closer. Then, Shun was enveloped in a group hug, completely unaware as to what had just happened. In his surprise, he sniffled. Tears poked out from his tightly shut eyes as he returned the favour awkwardly, collapsing like a pillow with loose stuffing, made to sit upright.

“Heyy... Don’t cry- you didn’t know, and you were frustrated. I’ve forgiven you, I have for ages, don’t worry about it--” Dan smiled softly.

“But mentioning it makes me worry that it’ll happen again.” Shun cut off with a quiet murmur into Dan’s shoulder. Monarus, Limulus, and, perhaps the strangest bakugan there, Serpenoid, stared up at their human brawlers.

“Should we join in?” Limulus asked, nudging its body into Serpenoid’s side.

“No- this is a them thing.” Serpenoid hissed softly, nudging back. Monarus kept watch of the humans, delighting in watching them communicate. They were much better at it than most bakugan were, and so watching how they went about it was fascinating.

“It won’t happen again, at least not for quite awhile,” Dan reassured him.

“Mhm,” Marucho hummed, “And, hey, the powers that be, the ones that caused that mess? They won’t affect us now. We can relax,” Marucho cast a glance at Dan’s first new partner.

He was surprised to find Drago had been retired without Dan even complaining, although it was understandable; he felt a little weak from lugging around so much power in his avatar, so he’d returned to being the core of Vestroia.

The little Serpenoid was happy to take Drago’s place, and it seemed to be doing Dan some good, if partially because Serpenoid had been teaching him to relax outside of battling. The other half of it was because Drago’s powers weren’t rubbing off on Dan anymore.

They sat there for a few minutes, until Shun stopped crying. The trio laughed, one wiping his remaining tears away.

“That was a massive weight off our chests, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Hey, I have an idea!” Dan cheered, getting Shun’s attention from behind a sip of tea.

“What is it?” Marucho laughed, anticipating something very stupid, but also undeniably very Dan.

“Let’s make a pillow fort!”

Yup. Undeniably Dan. 

[f-117-nighthawk]

I’m in a Playlist Mood

I was scrolling through my dark matter tag looking for something I made a while ago to reference in the next chapter of Carry Me Home and ran across my last playlist explanation post. It put me in the mood to think about this again, and I’ve added...a lot. The playlist might’ve actually doubled in length since then (Thank You Abyss) and I’ve moved some stuff around in order. So, more playlist meta under the cut (it’s LONG)

So first thing: I’ve actually created two new playlists (well, one new one and actually made the third playlist have more than two tracks) since that post jhadsfljd. Working forwards in time (kinda), we have:

Dark Matter: The Road to Ruin

The Road to Ruin is the Main Playlist, the thing I use to write to, the thing I lie in bed and listen to to think up new things, and half the thing that keeps the timeline in place (it’s actually more updated than World Anvil rn whoops). Here we have overarching plot hooks, character development, and the story of six Paladins and their friends trying to save the universe.

Turn the Lights Out I sort of explained in the last post and I can’t think of too much more to add. The TLDR is it’s about the Lions (and, well, technically [REDACTED] too....) and sort of why I refer to a fully-melded Lion-Paladin duo as Spirits.

(I was here/Will you welcome and recognize me/I'll be there/I was here/Will you dread me, will you despise me/I'll be there/For the last living thing)

Remnants of Stars is again about Galran philosophy and the actual process of the quintessence nurseries filtering quintessence back into the universe. But the bit about giving in to know the truth becomes important much, MUCH later.

(As children of space/With stardust in our veins/We will give in to know the truth/We are the remnants of stars)

Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds are about [REDACTED], about what happens between that instant between the first plank time and the next. They’re an overarching theme, but also the event that everything else builds from, whether that be interpreted as the beginning of the universe or the Voltron comet crashing into Daibazaal.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Apocalypse 1992 is actually the main story of Through Apocalypse Skies, although its framing story is shortly after String Theory. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

You Keep What You Kill covers the slow degeneration of the Empire between The Fall and the Battle of Arus. The knowledge harshly taught by the Thuanial War is forgotten under the influence of Zarkon, Haggar, and [REDACTED]. Marzin and Galraasa quickly rise the ranks as the Empire’s left and right hands, like omens of destruction before them. The four are the ‘holy half-dead,’ the ones who shape the devouring of the universe before them.

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won't be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They'd fall to Earth to grant a child's dream/But I'm still waiting)

Starlight is the newly added Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I'll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I'll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I'll fall in love with you again)

Abyss is Awakenings again. It’s specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I'm surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

Who Will Save You Now is about the Paladins in First Contact. It’s the video messages they send to their families, the warning that Something Is Out Here that they need to prepare for. It’s a declaration of protection for Earth, but a recognition that the Paladins may not be able to do what they say.

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It's not in my mind/It's here at my side/Go tell the world that I'm still alive)

The End of the Beginning and Nobody Gets Left Behind are the aftermath of the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula, the end of season two. The End of the Beginning hasn’t been posted yet, but it’s also the second of the four Closure fics. The End of the Beginning also has influence on String Theory. 

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I'm caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

(Don't even try to pretend/That you're rough and just as tough/As when you're missing a friend/Attack and take him back/Cause when the team isn't whole/You've got a hole in your soul)

A Simple Plan is sort of part of The End of the Beginning, but really takes place after it. It’s the newly shuffled Team Voltron attempting to track down Lotor as Haggar tries to keep him under her control, and the new Black Paladin’s slow shift away from the things that he was pushed into and to the Blade. (And... guess what... it has influence on String Theory!) Fun fact I found out recently: The Spiritual Machines are by and large also the people behind Les Friction, which explains so much.

(What is this space we’re climbing/What is this place we’re stuck in/Why do we feel we’re sinking/How do we get out – get out of this) 

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met skips all the way over Naxzela and to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter.

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can't see your face but I'm trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven't met yet who's wished upon the Pleiades?)

TRIALS (reimagine) and String Theory are.... hoh boy. [REDACTED], [spoilers], and the turning point for a lot of things, which is why it has the honor of being the separating fic between my two main Dark Matter folders. TRIALS being on here is a fun story, because I associate that song very heavily with my main Star Wars fics, since that’s where the series title comes from, but the reimagine version of it gave me such strong Dark Matter vibes, it ended up here. It has heavy influence on the first part of String Theory, and is what I’ve been using for general pacing of the first half. String Theory itself isn’t the weirdest song on the playlist, but it’s really hard to find the connections to it without several layers of abstraction and backstory on [REDACTED]. String Theory is also weaved into a good chunk of fics before it.

(The ending won't be forgotten/It's written in the stars and the hieroglyphs/Sending the lionhearted/The stones break bones, but we're venomous)

(You don't believe in space/You don't believe in light/You don't believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We're never going anywhere we've never been before)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! (Rise Against says it’s about parenting???? lol fuck that) (okay but actually, switch the parental love part to sibling love/general familial love and that’s a pretty good description....)

(So I'll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we're up in flames/I'd burn here if that's what it takes/To let you know I won't let go of you)

Belgrade is the klance song! It is a) bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to be bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction as far as I know. Belgrade also leads almost directly into...

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it's time to move on/When there's nothing left to prove/I'm coming to get you)

Iron is what eventually replaced Ten Thousand Against One. The plot has actually changed a lot since it was that song like. two years ago (three?) at this point. It has more of a focus on Keith knowing what’s going on due to [spoilers] and coming to accept parts of himself that are suddenly very obvious (kiiiinda the third closure fic?)

(You can't live without the fire/It's the heat that makes you strong/'Cause you're born to live/And fight it all the way/You can't hide what lies inside you/It's the only thing you know/You're embracing that, never walk away)

Birthright and Firewall are not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it. They’re actually largely about Lotor, but then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall after Galraasa meets their fate, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can't take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Closure is placed where the fourth of its fics is. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

(I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye)

Ember and Soulbound are two closely related missions involving both Voltron and the Blade (specifically the Dark Whispers) in which [REDACTED] comes in with a vengeance, and some revelations about certain people’s fates are had. Soulbound is actually sort of from Krolia’s perspective.

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don't drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

Darker Matter and Other Worlds Than These are. Well. [REDACTED] and [spoilers] and String Theory’s revelations rearing their ugly head once again, but this time with extra context and just a little bit of [spoiler]

(Dream yourself away/The pull of you shredding time and space)

(There are monsters in the sky/There are demons in the sea/I have seen them with my eyes/I've seen what you won't see/Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won't shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is a fun one. The combined effects of String Theory, Soulbound, and Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These come to a head and Team Voltron goes, well, hunting.

(She's been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter's coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she's slain the gods before)

My Darkest Hour is revenge for Godhunter, as well as a distraction from it, although Godhunter continues all the way to Louder than Words. 

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

Faster Than Light is almost direct aftermath of My Darkest Hour, and sort of the inverse of Godhunter, where now Team Voltron are the hunted, even as they attempt to continue hunting. Oh and, Marzin and [REDACTED] are big parts

(Once more we're flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can't outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It's plain to see she's coming for us all)

The Reckoning, This is a Call, World on Fire, The Wind that Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words are the finale, what everything has been building towards. Earth’s faction, Haggar, [REDACTED], Voltron, the Empire, and the Coalition, all clash together in a final desperate bid to finish or prevent the final result of Your World Will Fail/Dark Matter/Eater of Worlds.

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We'll see the day of reckoning)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(Search within/Uncover the will to win/Turn against the tide that washes o'er/Find the strength to fall and rise again/Open up the gates, unleash the force/I am the wind that shapes the land/Old as time and twice as strong/Oceans arise at my command/I alone can carry on)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

Dystopian Fiction

Dystopian Fiction is focused on what happens on Earth during the main playlist. I split it out because putting stuff like Cross the Line on the main playlist was getting clunky, and I figure Adam and Veronica (and the rest of the Paladins’ families, but mostly those two) deserve a chance for their story to shine on its own.

Dark Matter is on here because title track, but also it does end up with effects.

(Don't stop, don't think/Move up, don't blink now/On your knees pray for rain/Don't breathe when you take your aim)

Codebreaker is Adam’s song! I have him primarily as a cryptologist for the Garrison, teaching on the side and as a reserve pilot. Aviators says Codebreaker is actually about Cyperpunk 2077 but uhhh Fuck That it’s about Adam being The Best and dealing with...

(Codebreaker can't you find/Can you read between the lines of code?/Tell me all that you know/How far down the hole does it all go)

Cross the Line is the Éskhayklos’ image song. They’re a neo-luddite movement turned terrorist group that are upset with the way the Sol Federation is trying to fix Earth, stating that humans are the one that pushed it into this state, they should leave it to die and die along with it. Akane Shirogane was their worst nightmare. Cross the Line fits because, well, they crossed the line when [spoiler beep] and they were happy about it. (And “human cause” comes into play later when they pick up anti-alien leanings)

(Cross the line, redefine, break away unbent, unafraid/Together we stand in the dark/Seeking the light and what is right, together we cross the line/Our journey will come to an end and then our human cause will be/Justified)

Who Will Save You Now here is about Sam, and the aftermath of Here to Save You, in addition to its referenced role in the main playlist

(Alone with this vision/Alone and blind/Go tell the world I'm still alive)

The Day the Earth Collapsed is exactly what it says on the tin.

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Dystopian Fiction is the title track for this part. With the events of The Day the Earth Collapsed, the Garrison and our heroes on Earth are at their lowest point. It really is a piece of dystopian fiction, between [spoiler] and [spoiler]. And also: “Nobody can shoot me down, not just yet” is about Adam bc Fuck Canon

(I'm a dead man/In the wasteland/I'm a soldier fighting for superstition/Under search lights/In the long nights/We've been written like dystopian fiction)

The Reckoning is the only one of its little subset that made it over here, because it’s the only one that references events from before its eponymous fic (both verses are Very Earth)

(We're all alone, walking in twilight/The night has been long and so many have fallen/Feel no remorse, light will be breaking/Our freedom is worth it all)

Filaments

Filaments is the least complete, mostly because it’s the ‘sequel series’ of sorts. I have ideas for it, but I still haven’t posted most of the major story beats from the main portion of Dark Matter, so I’ve been purposefully putting it on the backburner. I do have enough to write Carry Me Home and put some foreshadowing in other fics.

Dark Matter is here because, well. A) Title track, B) yes, it still has effects. It’s the overarching theme, after all. Filaments sort of has a subtitle itself, which is ‘The Undoing,’ after the other part of the lyric that the subtitle of the main playlist comes from. It’s about undoing a past mistake (that wasn’t obviously a mistake until much later) and reconciling the events of Your World Will Fail.

(I am the keeper/I am the secret/I am the answer/I am the end)

Filaments is the title track of this part. It’s... a little hard to explain why without giving away the entire plot (what little I have planned lol) but it’s about the connections between different parts of the universe, and some fall-out of Darker Matter/Other Worlds Than These.

(These glowing filaments/Conducting this enchanting/Sarcophagus that's holding us)

Starlight is, again, Adashi song, and this time the happy part

(Don't leave me lost here forever/I need your starlight and pull me through/Bring me back to you)

Carry Me Home is what I’m in the process of writing right now, and it’s about the aftermath of the Quintessence War, specifically about how Shiro decides to settle down on Earth and what he does to build himself a home.

(Carry me home to the morning light/carry me home before you wave me goodbye/Oh, carry me home...)

[pheedraws]

I got tagged in this ultimate OTP meme a while ago and this has been sitting in my drafts since because I am, at my core, indecisive. It also means I can’t remember who tagged me so my apologies! I could not sleep at all last night so I finally finished it off ... voila 

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

They both try to keep things low-key, especially if others are within earshot, but they are also incredibly stubborn and won’t back down from an argument if they think they are right so things can often get loud.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

Neither of them. They’ve both had enough people walk out on them in the past that they wouldn’t threaten the other with that in the heat of the moment, regardless of the argument.

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

As above. At the very most, one of them will go somewhere to cool off for a few hours but that’s the extent of that.

Who trashes the house?

Neither of them. Billy has the shorter temper of the two but that’s not his style.

Do either of them get physical?

Never.

How often do they argue/disagree?

Hoo boy. After Billy breaks things off mere days before they lose Maria and the kids? Dee can’t stand to be in the same room as him without fighting. Billy plays along, after all he needed the dispute to seem real so Rawlins would drop Dee as a potential pawn to use against him (thus keeping her safe), but the part of him he buried deep down hates seeing her hurt and angry. Doesn’t stop him from landing a few cutting jabs every now and then, though…

Post-S1? Not a lot. It takes them a while to work through things after Rawlins’ death and Billy’s pardoning, eventually getting back to how things were in the ‘good old days’. All the previous grievances just seem petty in comparison and thus arguments are few and far between. When they do get back together? It’s all small domestic things, the most common argument being Billy trying to get Dee to just slow down and stop working herself to the bone.

Who is the first to apologise?

Usually Billy. (He is usually the one in the wrong, so…)

Sex:

Who is on top?

More often than not Billy, though he certainly has no qualms against sitting back and making Dee work for it from time to time.

Who is on the bottom?

Mostly Dee, with exceptions of course. (She can top Billy every so often, as a treat)

Who has the strangest desires?

I wouldn’t say either of them have particularly strange desires, but their sex life is never boring. Let’s leave it at that.

Any kinks?

Too damn many. Dee more so than Billy, which he fucking loves.

Who’s dominant in bed?

Almost always Billy. Even when Dee’s on top, he’s still the one in control.

Is head ever in the equation?

Absolutely.

If so, who is better at performing it?

Billy’s an incredibly confident and smug man, both in life and in the bedroom. Is it justified? Wholly.

Ever had sex in public?

…Yes.

They just had to break in the newly refurbished head office at Anvil, after all…

Who moans the most?

They both get pretty vocal in their own ways. For Billy, it’s a lot of guttural moans and ‘fuck’s. In Dee’s case? Well, Billy doesn’t rest until she’s screaming loud enough that all her neighbors know him by name…

Who leaves the most marks?

Billy. He’d never push Dee past her limits or seriously hurt her, but he does get a little... carried away in the moment.

Dee loves it though.

Who’s the more experienced of the two?

Again, Billy.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

In the early days it was almost exclusively fucking. They had a friends-with-benefits situation going on that didn’t leave room for the feelings they both refused to acknowledge.

Post-S1, when everything is back on track and positive? It’s a healthy mix of the two.

Rough or soft?

Again, a healthy mix of the two.

How long do they usually last?

Billy has the stamina of a superhuman. Whether it’s fucking or making love, you can bet your ass he’s making it last until Dee is fully spent.

Is protection used?

Yes. They’re both too busy to consider the, ahem, alternative right now.

Does it ever get boring?

With Billy Russo? Never.

Where is the strangest place they’ve have sex?

An elevator.

Heathens.

Family:

Do they plan on having children/or have children?

That is… a complicated topic. After losing Lisa and Frank Jr., Dee was kind of put off the idea of starting a family with anyone. Billy has his own reservations about kids and parenthood too, given his own history. Plus post-S1, with both of them working hard towards getting Anvil re-established? There isn’t time for that.

Neither of them completely rule out future possibilities, though.

If so, how many children do they want/have?

Neither have given it much thought, in all honesty.

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle?

They are both partial to a good cuddle on the sofa or in bed, particularly after a long day.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

B I L L Y. That man’s randiness is second to none.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themselves?

As above, Billy. It isn’t always inherently sexual, though; he uses touch as an affirmation more so than words, so he’ll make a point of brushing loose hairs out of Dee’s face, or sliding his arms around her waist whenever he can. He’s finally at a stage in his life where he can afford to be soft and affectionate, so naturally he wants to make the most of it.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Depends on the situation. Both of them are borderline workaholics, so staying still for anything longer than half an hour during the day just doesn’t sit well with them and they’ll take themselves off to get back to work. If they fall asleep in each other’s arms, though? You best believe they’ll still be entwined when morning comes.

Who gives the most kisses?

Dee’s the smoocher of the pair, always has been, though Billy has taken to planting a kiss on her forehead when her brows knit together while working to ease the tension there.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

Their secret indulgence is sacking off work on a Friday night to order pizza and drink beer while watching some dumb movie neither are really interested in. Sometimes they invite the others over, but more often than not it’s just their night to breathe and enjoy each other’s company.

Dee will adamantly deny that she almost always falls asleep during the movie, though…

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

Billy spared no expense when decorating his penthouse, so the sofa and bed are simply to die for. In the end that’s what spurs Dee to move in with him, lest she have to listen to him complain about her brick of a sofa one more time…

How often do they get time to themselves?

Not as often as they’d like. Later on down the line, when Dee leaves her clinic behind, they both work at Anvil, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they have more time to themselves. It’s busy, especially in the wake of the Rawlins fiasco, but things settle down eventually. They take those moments to themselves whenever they can.

Sleeping:

Who snores?

Mercifully, neither of them do.

If both do, who snores the loudest?

While neither of them snore, Dee talks utter nonsense in her sleep, which Billy then teases her for relentlessly.

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

Always share a bed. Sleep doesn’t come easy to Dee, but having Billy beside her helps.

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart?

They’ll cozy up as they fall asleep. More often than not they’ll wake up like that too, though Dee has been known to shift into some utterly nonsensical positions that would make a chiropractor cry.

What do they wear to bed? If they’re together?

Dee sleeps in a vest and shorts all year round.

Billy? Just underwear, unless previously removed before falling asleep …

Are either of them insomniacs?

Dee is a chronic insomniac and workaholic. While they’re in the middle of their break-up, can’t-stand-the-sight-of-each-other phase, Dee works through the night until she physically can’t stay awake any longer; anything to avoid the tossing and turning and overthinking that awaits her in bed. Things get better after Rawlins is dealt with and Billy is back in the picture, but it’s still a struggle for her at times.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

Dee tried them once. They don’t work.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

A little bit of both. Dee likes feeling Billy there with her so will tangle herself up in his arms and legs when she can, but if it’s hot? Stuff that. There’s nothing Dee hates more than feeling hot and smothered.

Who wakes up with bed hair?

Dee, and she will forever be bitter that Billy I’m-So-Perfect Russo can wake up looking like a damn model regardless of the antics they got up to the night before.

Who wakes up first?

If Dee had a fitful night of sleep, she’ll be up and out of bed at the earliest reasonable hour. On a normal day, Billy will wake up first.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other?

They usually just grab breakfast on the way to work, but if it’s a weekend or a special occasion? Billy is known to surprise her with breakfast in bed.

What’s their favourite sleeping position?

Billy on his back with Dee against his side, her head in the crook of his neck.

Do they set an alarm each night?

Billy doesn’t need one; perks of being a marine, and all. If they need to be up at a certain time, he’ll wake Dee up himself… sometimes in creative ways.

Can a television be found in their bedroom?

No. Billy never had one in his bedroom when he lived alone, and Dee wasn’t fussed either way.

Who has nightmares?

They both have their demons, so nightmares are a frequent occurrence. There’s a shared sense of comfort there, though; the pair always knowing what the other needs when they awake with a start, sheen of sweat on their body. The nightmares don’t follow them into the waking world anymore.

Who has ridiculous dreams?

Dee. And she’ll mutter and talk in her sleep the whole time.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed?

Surprisingly, Billy. While he’s kept many of his old sleeping habits from his days in the marines, he just can’t resist sprawling out in a big, fancy bed these days.

Who makes the bed?

They’re both neat people, so the general unspoken rule is whoever was last out of bed in the morning makes it.

What time is bed time?

It varies. They do try to have a healthy work-life balance, but Anvil is Billy’s pride and joy; if he needs to stay late working, he’ll do it without complaint. They’ll usually collapse into bed any time between 11PM and 2AM.

Any routines/rituals before bed?

Regular things; showering, brushing teeth, etc. If they haven’t seen much of each other all day they’ll lay awake chatting for a while, catching up on news and such. If Dee is going through a particularly bad stint of insomnia, she’ll work out in the evening to try and quell some of the restless feelings, and Billy has taken to joining her.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Dee. Billy is insufferably smug and cheerful on a morning.  

Work:

Who is the busiest?

It varies. When Dee is working at the clinic, she’s working constantly. Where Frank goes, trouble is never far behind, and thus there’s never a quiet moment without a bullet wound to patch up or regular patient to see to. After she decides to call it quits and work for Anvil with Frank, Billy and Curtis, her workload decreases a bit. Though she may be the resident medic, Billy has a lot more work and responsibilities being at the top of the chain in that scenario.

Who rakes in the highest income?

Mr Billy Bigshot-CEO Russo

Are any of them unemployed?

No.

Who takes the most sick days?

Dee is very much of the ‘work until you drop’ ethic, and while the same can be said about Billy too in some respects, he’s more lenient with himself and will take a day off when he really needs it. He’ll also bribe encourage Dee to do the same when it’s evident she needs a break.

And I mean hey, what’s the point in owning your own company if you can’t take a cheeky sick day off every now and then?

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

They travel together (technically live in the same damn building as their offices) so they really have no excuse. For the most part it all runs smoothly, but there are occasions where their ….. morning activities….. overrun, though Dee is adamant that you can never actually be late if you turn up with the boss; everyone else is just there early.  

Who sucks up to their boss?

Billy is technically Dee’s boss so…. go figure.

What are their jobs?          

After leaving the military, Dee establishes a small clinic in Hell’s Kitchen and works out of there for a few years. It’s met with a lot of resistance, what with her helping Frank out and getting involved in his grievances with local gangs. Eventually, post-S1 and after an arson attack leaves the clinic worse for wear, Dee decides to take up Billy’s offer of working for Anvil alongside Curtis on the medical team.

Billy still owns and runs Anvil, only with his friends by his side this time. It takes some time for the company’s reputation to recover, even after the truth about Rawlins comes out and Billy is exonerated, but he doesn’t mind the work. It makes it feel like his company again.

Who stresses the most?

They both have a knack for stressing and worrying, but Dee comes out on top in this regard. Maria always used to joke that she’d end up with frown lines by the time she’s thirty.

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

They do. Billy has an immense sense of pride in his work now, and it’s therapeutic for him to work through the mess Rawlins made and reclaim Anvil as his.

Dee loves helping people, always has, so her work suits her.

Are they financially stable?

They are.

Home:

Who does the washing?

They’ll take it in turns for the most part. Both are incredibly neat people so household work is a breeze.

Who takes out the trash?

They’ll usually do it on the way to work, though if it’s cold outside and they have nowhere to be? Billy’s the one to take one for the team.

Who does the ironing?

Billy took one look at the way Dee irons shirts and forbid her from going near an iron again.

Who does the cooking?

Cooking is something they love to do together. It’s a chance for them to unwind and chat and laugh with each other after long working days, so it’s never a chore for them. If a few glasses of wine just happen to be drank during the process, too… well… they deserve it.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying?

They’re both pretty competent cooks.

Who is messier?

Neither is particularly messy, per se. Dee will say she’s not untidy and call her chaotic desk ‘organized clutter’, but that’s usually limited to her workspaces. The penthouse itself is almost always clean and tidy.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty?

Neither, because they are not heathens… in this regard, at least.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor?

If Billy is tired, he’ll just strip wherever is convenient and deal with the clothes in the morning. Dee at least makes the extra effort to hang things up or, at the very least, drape it over a chair.

Who forgets to flush the toilet?

They’re both pretty good for remembering that.

Who is the prankster around the house?

Dee has more of a sense of humor than Billy, but that’s not to say Billy doesn’t act like an utter asshole at times when he sees the opportunity.

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere?

Dee doesn’t have a car (she can drive, there’s just not much use for one in the city) so she’s exempt.

I feel like Billy’s car keys are permanently attached to his person. He drives a Wraith, after all.

Who mows the lawn?

Lawn? What’s that?

(Not having a garden is the one thing Dee doesn’t particularly like about city living, though)

Who answers the telephone?

Each has their own mobile, so they deal with their own calls and such.

Who does the vacuuming?

Like with most housework, they’ll take it in turns. Dee refuses to hoover stairs, though, on the grounds that she doesn’t have a death wish.

Who does the groceries?

It depends on whoever has the least amount of work to do on that particular day. Billy quickly catches on to Dee’s confectionary-buying ways, though, so he’ll volunteer to do the shopping more often than not to save their pantry from yet more sugar.

Who takes the longest to shower?

With both of them having served tours overseas, they’re used to showering quickly and effectively. If they’re in the shower together, though? All notions of saving water are out the window.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Billy. Russo. That man has a morning beauty routine to rival any model.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

Nope!

How many cars do they own?

One.

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Billy owns the penthouse. Prior to moving in with him, Dee used to rent an apartment in the city.

Do they live in the city or in the country?

New York, New York, baby!

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

Both grew up in city environments, so New York just feels like home to them. I think after everything they’ve been through, both individually and together, anywhere else would just feel…. Boring?

What’s their song?

Green Grass by Tom Waits

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

If Billy is away with work, they call or skype whenever they can. They’ve spent unwanted time apart in the past, on particularly bad terms to boot, so they don’t like being away from each other for extended periods.

Where did they first meet?

Dee practically grew up with Maria; the two had been nigh on inseparable since the day they met in elementary school, and formed a sisterly bond that carried on way into adulthood. Dee was already going through basic training when Maria introduced her to Frank, who then brought Billy along to the group a couple of weeks later. The two swiftly became close friends, and dabbled in a bit of the ol friends-with-benefits arrangement when off duty.

Who spends the most money when out shopping?

Billy is more willing to spend money, but he rarely goes out shopping for himself; it’s either something to boost Anvil’s status or capabilities, or something for the penthouse. Dee grew up lacking the financial cushion they have today, so old habits die hard in her case. She won’t buy things for herself unless she really needs something, and even then it takes a lot of internal debating to reach that point.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Dee is fairly clumsy, much to her dismay (and Billy’s apparent enjoyment).

Any mental issues?

Hoo boy. Billy is an entire essay in his own right so I’ll focus on Dee, though a lot of their mental troubles overlap. Dee left the military after a mission in Iraq under Schoonover went awry, landing the unit in a hostage situation with only Dee and the Major managing to survive two weeks until they were extracted. She was initially given leave to recover and recuperate with intentions of returning to duty, but she decided against it and was discharged. Dee was later diagnosed with PTSD as a result of the incident. Add to that the later trauma of losing Maria, her lifelong best friend and practically her sister, as well as Lisa and Frank Jr.? The woman went through a lot in an incredibly short space of time and it took its toll on her both mentally and physically.

(I’m missing a lot but alas I have not slept and cannot write a coherent paragraph)

Who’s terrified of bugs?

Dee point-blank refuses to be in the same room as a spider. She knows it’s a bit pathetic, but frankly? She doesn’t really care. Other bugs are fine, just no creepy crawlies inside, please.

Who kills the spiders around the house?

As mentioned above, Dee will not touch a single spider so it’s down to Billy to be the hero and remove them from the building.

Their favourite place?

New York City apartments don’t have much in the way of gardens, but the rooftop terrace on the penthouse quickly became their favourite spot once it was given a bit of TLC. Dee has a few planters for growing flowers and herbs for the kitchen, and Billy surprised her one night with a firepit perfect for huddling around as the sun goes down. It’s like a little safe haven away from the stressful jobs and business below them.

Who pays the bills?

They both contribute, Dee was very insistent on that when she moved in, though Billy offered otherwise.

Do they have any fears for the future?

Plenty. Billy still doubts himself, still judges himself by his past mistakes and actions and worries that one day, everything he holds dear will eventually crumble before him again, only this time he won’t be able to pick up the pieces. He keeps these fears to himself, but Dee can tell when those thoughts are giving him grief, and is always there to offer words of reassurance.

Dee worries about Frank. Her elder brother almost; the one constant in her life over the tumultuous years. She worries that one day, this life they’ve all rebuilt together won’t be enough for him, that he’ll miss what made him him, miss the violence and vengeance. And she gets it, to an extent. She lived that life too after Maria and the kids passed, helping him and getting her hands dirty in ways that meant they’ll never be clean again. But she’s settled now, here, with Billy and Frank and Curtis. She just worries the peace she found won’t last.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner?

Billy, most definitely. He has expensive tastes to begin with and is fairly spontaneous in nature; he’ll often call Dee at work to announce that they’re going out mere hours in advance. It brings him joy to do things for others.

Who’s the tallest?

Billy. He’ll tease Dee about it from time to time, but really? He loves the way he can press his lips to her forehead when she’s in his arms.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

While they both love showering together and, ahem, other more scandalous antics, it’s usually Billy who initiates and slips into the shower behind Dee as opposed to the other way around because for Christ sake Billy shower at a reasonable hour who willingly gets up at 5:30 every morning

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Dee, though Billy has been known to join the underwear party when he a. hungover b. exhausted or c. too damn warm.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

Dee, and while she can indeed sing, she gets so much more joy out of seeing Billy’s grimace whenever she purposefully butchers a song.

What do they tease each other about?

Dee pokes fun at Billy’s hair and how goddamn perfect it is all the time. She’s also taken to lovingly ruffling it up a tad when they’re at home, though that often ends with either her being hoisted over his shoulder or tickled relentlessly…

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

They both dress fairly smartly on a day to day basis, taking pride in their appearance and the way they present themselves to the world. There is one exception, however, and that is when Dee insists on lounging around the penthouse that god awful “I Got A Dig Bick” tee Frank gifted Billy during one of Anvil’s annual jokey Secret Santa exchanges. Each time he sees it in the laundry basket he tries his best to dispose of it, but that thing just keeps on making its way back into the wardrobe...

Do they have mutual friends?

They do! Frank and Curtis being the main two, with Karen being more of a mutual acquaintance for Billy, who missed out on a lot while stuck working for Rawlins.

Who crushed first?

There was a mutual attraction there which ultimately spurned the whole friends-with-benefits situation, but Dee was the first to start getting actual Feelings.

Any alcohol or substance related problems?

None.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk,  at 3 am?

If they’re out drinking that late, they’re most likely out together. Dee’s accent gets stronger when she’s drunk, which Billy finds hilarious. Coincidentally, he also finds everything funny when shitfaced drunk. Naturally, they make quite the pair...

Who swears the most?

Dee swears like a sailor, at any minor inconvenience. Dropped something? Oh fuck off. Minor inconvenience? Bastard. Billy blames it on being exposed to Frank Castle at an early age, which earns a fuck you from them both.

[st-fandom-imagines]

Emotions

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ My most popular post is one that has a lot of thought and feelings in it, it was one that I really poured myself into so I’m going to try to do that more often going forward. I also wanted to o a little throwback to season 1 and no one has requested a Byers!Reader so I thought why not? I would love to do a part 2 to this is anyone is interested!! tag list- @tiger-hugger, @hannahmontanabutgayer  , @macricrisis and @marvelismylifffe let me know if you guys want to be added to my tag list! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Emotions are a complex thing, for everyone. Some people are better at expressing their emotions, some put their emotions into something they are good at, and some bottle it up until it explodes. Emotions are what makes life, worth living…as sad as that might sound. For me, emotions are more, complicated than anything else. I’ve been through a lot in life and yet somehow I still try to keep a positive outlook on things, and as Jonathan and I put up Will’s poster around school, my emotions were taking over. As I stuck tacks on each corner, I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump before looking on that direction to see Steve Harrington standing next to me. Steve held a special place in my heart, even if I didn’t hold one in his. He has always been nothing but nice to me, he has since kindergarten, but Jonathan on the other hand, Steve bullied Jonathan. The bullying started before Jonathan liked Nancy, even before High School, it started as soon as Steve met Tommy. I wanted to hate Steve, hate him for bullying my brother, but I didn’t, I couldn’t, and Jonathan knew that. Emotions, I’m telling you, they are a fucked up thing. “I heard this morning, I’m so sorry (Y/N).” Steve comforted as I cleared my throat, trying to push my tears to the back of my head, not wanting Steve to see me cry. “Don’t say that.” I chuckled out making the handsome popular boy in front of me raise an eyebrow. “Don’t say your sorry like he is dead, he isn’t.” I stated as I handed him a flyer, his hands taking it immediately, out of concern and comfort for me. Nancy caught the corner of my eye, as she stared me down as I talked to Steve, Nancy Wheeler. My ex best friend, the girl I use to tell everything, we would always hang out while Will and Mike would hang out, but as soon as her and Steve started making out in secret, I put distance between us, my emotions getting the best of me. “Thanks Steve, if you see him, please, let me, Jonathan or my mom know. Tell Nancy I said hi.” I spoke as I turned away from Steve and walked towards the doors, seeing Jonathan waiting on the other side of them for me. The chilly November air hitting my face and clearing my thoughts of anything other than Will. “You alright? I saw you and Steve talking.” Jonathan tried but I just nodded, knowing he was only bringing it up to try and distract me. He was also asking to see if I had spoken to Nancy before he had walked up to the door, maybe missing the interaction, it’s crazy really, the people we like, liking each other, all spirals back to emotions. “Yeah, he was just checking on me, Nancy didn’t even give me a second glance. Where else should we hang these?” *Steve’s Point Of View* Everyone thinks that I’m this huge asshole, that only care about sex and how far I can get with girls but the truth of it all is, I’m in love with a girl, so in love that I don’t know how to show it, emotions for me, are foreign and are not to be shown, so I bury them into what I know, and what I know is girls. (Y/N) is not the typical Hawkins girl, and she never has been, ever since we were kids, I’ve been drawn to her, drawn to her positivity and kindness, but now in her moments of need, all she knows me as is the asshole who hates her brother and is seeing her best friend. “Harrington, let’s go!” Tommy yelled as the bell rang as I watched (Y/N) walk out the doors and rush over to Jonathan, the guy who is just a little strange so I took my anger out on him. My feelings manifest as anger, that’s just how I deal and I think if I told (Y/N) she would understand that, it’s just the matter of telling her. I turned around to see Nancy looking back at me, making me clear my throat and force a smile. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders as we began walking down the hallway, only digging myself deeper into the hole that is loving (Y/N) Byers. “Nancy, we need to talk…” *(Y/N)’s Point Of View* Being part of the Byers Family meant a few things, we were ordinary, we were as plain and plain comes, and we loved each other, no matter what, especially since dad left. We all looked the similar with our brown hair and brown eyes, but each of us having little differences, so we didn’t all look exactly alike. As I looked at my sleeping mom on the couch, a cigarette in her hand, a bottle on the floor next to her, I couldn’t help but tear up, my dad always swore I looked just like my mom when I was younger and that I would turn out just like her too, an insult in his eyes, but a compliment in mine. I took the cigarette from her hand, and covered her up with a blanket before I sat down next to her, my shift of watching the front door was up, she wouldn’t go to sleep unless Jonathan and I swore to her that someone would be up at all time in case Will came home or called again. These past few days have been rough, Jonathan went to see our father, mom getting the mysterious phone calls, Hopper not finding anything but Will’s bike, and wallpaper stretching out to mom and I, Jonathan thought she was insane, his emotions growing towards the darker side of this, while I believed my mom seeing the same thing that she had, knowing that life wasn’t meant to be this simple, we were going to find Will, even if we went crazy trying. ** The funeral came and went, the funeral that meant nothing to my mom and I seeing as we knew Will was still alive. I had buried my emotions this thing for so long that I had talked to Jonathan and I mean really talked to him since we put the Flyers up at school. He apologized to mom and I for thinking we were crazy but we hadn’t had a brother and sister real talk in a while, our emotions on completely different pages. We had seen and spoken a little at the Middle School when El was in the deprivation tank, when she told us Barb was gone, my heart breaking for Nancy, as she began to break down into Jonathan’s arms. Something had shifted with the two of them, but I wasn’t in the head space to ask or even guess, but when they asked me if I would help them set up traps for whatever took Will, I was more than ready. As we sat in the living room of the house I grew up in, Christmas lights everywhere, I couldn’t help but feel a little weird. “It’s good to see you Nancy.” I spoke for the first time since we had gotten back to the house. She was my best friend, and I let my feelings for Steve change that, all by themselves. She looked over at me as we all sat on the couch, as Jonathan wrapped up Nancy's hand, his already done and mine to be done next. "I missed you too." She smirked just before there was a loud pounding on the front door making all three of us jump. "(Y/N)?! Hey listen, it's Steve and I really need to talk to you!" We heard the boy yell from the other side making Nancy sigh and both Jonathan and I look at her, beyond confused. "He still hasn't talked to you yet?" Nancy asked making me completely dumbfounded by her question, I had no idea what her or Steve were going on about. "I know you are in there, Jonathan's car is in the driveway!" The boy yelled, getting more frantic and impatient. This made no sense, why was he asking for me? Why not Nancy or Jonathan? "Talk to him, but make it fast and don't let him in." Jonathan stated as he continued to work on Nancy's hand, making me shakily get up from the couch. I didn't know what Steve wanted, let alone why Nancy knew about it but it didn't seem like this was going to be a good talk. I sighed as I rested my hand on the door handle before opening it just enough so I could see Steve's beaten up face. "What the hell happened to your face?" I asked, reaching out to him, only to grab my hand and making me wince in pain. "What the hell happened to your hand?" He grimaced in the same tone I did, annoyed yet concerned. I didn't like seeing him like this, covered in blood, and pounding on my front door as if I was his girlfriend that had been ignoring him for days. "Who did this to you?" He questioned and I just shook my head and took my hand away from him, my heart racing from the small amount of contact that we had. I hadn't been this close to Steve in years, let alone him being on my doorstep, that never happened. "Why are you pounding on my door?" I popped making his face drop, before he let out a nervous chuckle...Steve Harrington, nervous? In front of me? This is just beyond strange, out of every thing that has happened in this past week, this is the strangest and that is beyond weird. "Can I come in, its a long story." I tried but I just held the door closer to me, making him raise an eyebrow. Shit. This was not going to end well. Steve is stubborn and if he even thinks there is something up, he will force his way in. "Steve, please, go home, get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow, you look like you had a rough night." I tried but he only took a step closer to me, his breathing on mine, making my breath hitch and my strength weaken just enough for him to push himself in. He looked at both Jonathan and Nancy, then at all the weapons and medical supplies on the table, then around the room at all the lights and then back at me. "What is all this? What is that smell, gasoline? (Y/N) what is going on?!" He yelled making me sigh as he stepped closer to me before Nancy grabbed the gun and pointed it at him, he spun around at the noise of the gun cocking, and stood in front of me, as if he was protecting me from Nancy's aim. "Steve, get out. If you care about (Y/N) at all, you will leave." She commanded making me cock an eyebrow, why was she so calm and why was Steve protecting me? "The reason I'm not leaving is because I care about her. Put the gun down and tell me what the hell is going on because this all looks crazy!" Steve yelled just as the lights began to flicker making me grab Steve's hand in mine, without even thinking. Steve looked at me as I clung onto him, for the first time during this week, I was scared. I knew Jonathan, Nancy and I could hold our own but I didn't want Steve to get hurt. "Nancy, the lights!" Jonathan yelled making me hold onto Steve tighter, a smile appearing on his lips. He heard Jonathan move from the couch, making his head snap towards him as the lights went off all around the room. "This is crazy! This is crazy! This is crazy!" Steve yelled as Jonathan tossed me my gun, making Steve jump back from my grasp. "Follow me, everything that I do." I swore as I looked at a confused, shocked and scared Steve. He just nodded before we all heard it growl and run towards us, we all knew the plan, all of us except for Steve. "Jump!" I yelled as we all ran into the room, Steve staying close the entire time, the only sound being the pants of our breath after sprinting into the bedroom. This time it was Steve's turn to take my hand, wincing slightly at the contact, my wound still open. He began looking around the room for something to cover it, hold it over until we could wrap it like Nancy's and Jonathan's. "It was Steve's blood that set it off." I gasped as Steve grabbed one of Jonathan's shirt and ripping it, wrapping my hand in the shred he tore off, I never saw Steve care this much. "I'll buy you ten more shirts." Steve stated as Jonathan looked at him with pure shock at the boy in front of him, Steve was definitely in rare form. Steve looked at me, our eye meeting for only a second before Nancy spoke up. "I don't hear anything, we need to go back out there." She flatly said as she handed Steve the bat that Jonathan had been holding. This was Phase two. As we all walked out into the living room, you could hear a pin drop, it was the quietest that it will ever be in our house. Before anything else could happen, the Demogorgon came back, angrier than ever. He smacked Jonathan and Nancy away like flies, my gun getting stuck from the blood on my hands, too slippery. "Come on, you son of a bitch!" Steve yelled as he twirled the bat in it's hands, hitting it right in the jaw sending it tumbling towards the bear trap that we had set up. "Its in the trap, now!" I yelled as Steve grabbed me and pulled me close to him, Nancy already back standing up and next to Jonathan. Jonathan threw the match on the monster in front of us, sending it up in flames, screeching filling the entire house. I buried my head into Steve's chest as he held me close, the stress of this week finally getting to me, I'm not sure if it was Steve's honest reaction to what we where doing, or all the hand holding, but I was loosing my shit. "It has to be dead." Jonathan sighed as the screeching came to a stop and I pulled out of Steve's grasp and walked towards the front door, I needed air. I had been so close, so on top of all of this, Jonathan went off with Nancy and got to explore what he thought was going on but mom and I, we knew from the start, and my body was finally catching up with my mind. "(Y/N), hey, you okay?" Steve asked as he followed me outside, and I took deep breaths, the deepest as I could, the cold air filling my lungs and calming me down, just enough to think a little clearer. "Why did you come here?" I laughed as I tried my tears and looked at the boy standing in front of me. He ran a hand through his hair, getting ready to tell me some bullshit excuse. "I want the truth, all of it, you being here, it means something, tell me." I demanded making him sigh and take a step closer to me. "I came here to tell you that I love you, and I have since the second grade. I process my emotions into sex, so I have meaningless sex with girls that aren't you. My dad use to tell me that feelings and love are for girls, so starting off with that probably didn't give me the best start. You are all I think about, day to nightfall, god you are so breath taking and you don't even see it!" Steve yelled, cupping my face in his hands, making me gasp at the contact and his words that I had only dreamt about. "I broke up with Nancy because, sure, I liked her, but I didn't love her, not like I love you. I'm sorry I suck at showing how I feel and I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you, but if you let me, I can show you how much I care, I'm different than what everyone paints me out to be, I love you (Y/N) Beyers, and I fought a monster for you tonight." He ranted making both of us giggle at the last part of his declaration of love. I smiled at the boy in front of me, for once letting all my emotions out and free. "I love you too, I know you are different, I have since the 2nd grade."

[pinkiepowered]

worlds collide – jimmy/montana

A/N: A friend suggested that I post my fanfiction here. So, here you go!

A series of crossovers in the American Horror Story universe. It’s honestly a sin that some of these characters have never met, and so I decided to fix that, with the first part ft. Jimmy Darling (Freak Show) and Montana Duke (1984).

Kudos and comments can be left here. Let me know any requests there, too, this might be 1/2 if inspiration arises again!

AO3 Tags: Crossover Pairings, Smut, Montana is softer than she is in canon, blame Jimmy’s influence.

Sliding into a seat in some shitty diner in Nowhere, Florida, Montana couldn’t quite believe the turn her life had taken. Just weeks prior she’d been dancing on a Hollywood stage, but then she’d made the mistake of resisting the owner’s gaze and then his hands and now she was fresh off a bus that reeked of disappointment, having been laughed out of every audition that followed.

Apparently her boss had a tiny dick but a huge list of connections, who’d have thought?

Now, she was due to meet some German chick at some circus thing that a girlfriend had told her about, with nothing more than her own talent and her own word to back her up. She sighed, staring at the menu and trying to decide what meal would mean the least calories before winding up with a lukewarm cup of coffee in her hand. At least it would keep her awake until she was back at the motel and could paint her face back on.

She yawned in spite of the hit of caffeine, turning to examine the rest of the measly diner’s occupants before realizing she was being watched, stared at, by some pretty boy with a curl in his hair and motorcycle gloves still on his hands, grasped around a glass of what looked to be homemade lemonade. He smirked at Montana, looking less the cat that ate the canary and more like he was just relieved she’d finally noticed.

“If you keep up that dumb look on your face, it’ll stick that way,” Montana called across the distance between them, hiding her own smile. He was cute, handsome, but she wasn’t one to make things easy on the other sex. Or the same sex, come to think of it, though she didn’t like her chances of getting pussy in this part of the country.

Fuck, she missed LA.

“You’re not from around here,” he said, and without any invitation he crossed the diner and sat one seat down from her, still nursing his lemonade between his gloved hands.

“What, the accent?”

He shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ that obvious. It’s the look. Like you’re…”

“Crawling out of my skin to get away from here?”

At that his smirk turned into a grin, and Montana thought to herself that to be deprived that smile must surely be a sin. “Exactly,” he said. “Eyein’ all the exits like you’re preparing for a fire only you know’s coming. You not eating, huh?” He asked, then. “The Salisbury’s to die for. That, and everything else on the menu might kill you.”

He shot the waitress a wink, then, so that she’d know he was kidding, before turning back to Montana and taking her in. It was possible, probable, that he ran through this routine with every woman that waltzed through this town, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t like it, that she couldn’t have fun with it. “I’m Montana,” she said, an olive branch, barely. “I just got here from Los Angeles.”

“Jimmy Darling,” he offered in turn, although not with a hand, and Montana thought to herself that had to be a fake name. “Los Angeles? City of Angels, and all of that? Why the hell would you choose to leave a place like that for a… well, it’s no Honolulu, or Paris, or even Orlando, let me tell you.”

It hadn’t been a choice, Montana was tempted to say, and part of her wanted to unleash a rant about the whole thing and how she’d maybe have made it to New York City if she’d just kept her damn mouth shut and let the guy do whatever he wanted to do to her, but something told her it wasn’t the time or the place. And, anyway, wasn’t she trying to play the long game? “I wanted… something different,” she decided on. “And I’d heard good things about the circus.”

Jimmy laughed, then, sliding one seat closer to Montana as if he had a secret to tell her. “Well, now I know you must be some sorta undercover cop, because nobody’s said nothing good about that circus for as long as I’ve been a part of it.”

“You’re in the circus?”

“I work in the freak show,” he answered, giving no indication as to what might make him freak-ish. She thought nothing of it, and he sipped his drink. “You’re here to audition, aren’t you? Well, I’m no psychic, but Elsa’s been talking about dancers for the new act for weeks. Thought she might have finally given up.”

“That’s - that’s what I’m here for,” she said, maybe a little hopeful. Maybe this guy was her way in if talent alone couldn’t impress the German woman. “I’m supposed to meet with her at four.”

“I’ll drive you over there. My bike’s just outside,” Jimmy said, gesturing with his gloves.

Montana started to interject, not wanting to seem more needy than she was: “Oh, I need to do my makeup…”

“I’ll drive you back to your place. Wherever you’re staying. Can’t be more than two motels within twenty miles, so it’s no pressure on me. Come on,” he threw down a few dollar bills, then, finished his drink. “Let’s get going now and I can tell you all about Elsa. Just know this, Montana from Los Angeles, she always has to be star of the show. Remember that, and you might have a chance.”

Then, before she had a chance to argue, Montana was being nudged out the door by an almost perfect stranger, climbing onto his bike and wrapping her arms around him for security. He turned around to see that she was comfortable, and she nodded, and off they went.

– – – – –

For reasons completely unbeknownst to Montana, Jimmy stuck around on his bike while she fiddled with her makeup and her hair and slipped into something more appropriate for showing off her dancing. She’d told him he could wait in the room but he’d insisted otherwise, like some kind of gentleman, and so she’d taken a little less time than she might to get ready. From what little Jimmy had told her about this whole circus, she didn’t need to put in as much attention to detail as she had with her LA callbacks, anyway.

That, and her confidence was a little high from the way that the boy had been looking at her even though she was fresh off several days on a bus and hadn’t put any work into her appearance when they met. She grabbed her purse and headed on down to his bike, and kept her face neutral as he made a face of awe at how she looked now that she was wearing powder on her cheeks and color on her lips. “You ready to go?” she asked, as if he had anything else to do than sit around and wait on a girl he’d just met.

“Yep, hop on, LA,” he said, smirking again, and it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before they were arriving at the ground, into a sea of trailers and tents and faces she didn’t recognize. Jimmy had reminded her that she’d be seeing things she wasn’t used to be seeing, and that was certainly the case as she watched a person walk on their hands, a woman with a beard, and what must surely be the world’s smallest person.

But that wasn’t the point of being here, and Montana was determined to focus on the task at hand as she was introduced to Elsa Mars, a woman who wore makeup that didn’t match her age and whose perfume was much too extravagant for a place like this. Before long, music was playing and Montana was showing off every move that she knew, stealing from dancing she’d done in routines on the other side of the country what already felt like a lifetime ago.

As she finished, Elsa clapped, and she took Montana’s face into her hands as if she were her granddaughter and not someone she’d just encountered. “Liebling,” she said, a tired smile stretched across her features. “I don’t think you belong here, but we are honored to have you. You can start tomorrow, if you like. Jimmy will show you somewhere to sleep. Go, go.”

Not quite sure whether to take the comment as a compliment, she went as she was told and found Jimmy, who practically bounced at the news that she was in. Just that alone was enough to untie the knot of uncertainty in her chest, because if there was one thing she lacked in LA it was people. She had friends, of course, but only on the most shallow level, and she was pretty sure that every single one of them would have fucked her over if given the chance to get an audition.

“Now I get to show you around,” Jimmy said, and Montana nodded, looking around and trying not to be overwhelmed as several people came over to approach her, a welcome wagon of sorts. It was moving, really, the rapport that Jimmy had built with them all, the fact that they were more family than just friends and she got the impression that there was little that they wouldn’t do for one another. “And over there, that’s you’ll be sharing with the other dancers. It sucks, I know, but a bed’s a bed, right?”

Montana nodded again, figuring she couldn’t really complain when she didn’t have money for a bed back in Los Angeles. “Where do you sleep?” she asked, then, not having noticed his trailer or tent on the tour of the grounds. She was curious, which didn’t make much sense to her. She’d never really been curious about or cared about anybody, not since she left her parents, not since she discovered that in her city there was only one person you could put first: yourself. This guy was having the strangest effect on her.

Jimmy offered his arm and she hooked hers through his, almost instinctively, and then she was being led to his place in this all. “It’s not much,” he shrugged, then sat on the bed. He was still wearing the gloves, and shifted from one foot to another, thinking.

“What are you doing here, Jimmy?” she asked, suddenly, before she could stop herself. Really, it was none of her business, and it wasn’t like she’d been totally forthcoming with her own reasoning, but she’d never been known for beating around the bush, for avoiding hurting feelings. Not that she was outwardly searching to hurt his, not today. “You don’t seem like… well, like Elsa said, like you belong here.”

“Trust me,” he said with a breath of a laugh, slumping back against his bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a hint of sadness that Montana might otherwise not have detected if she wasn’t so invested in this strange, kind boy. “I belong here.”

Sliding onto the edge of the bed to watch him as he stared at nothingness, Montana tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Well, you already said you’re not a psychic,” she pondered, and then her eyes landed on the gloves again. Either he was a germaphobe or he was really, really into leather. Or he was hiding something. “Are you super strong, or something?”

“Not especially,” he turned, then, to lean on his elbow and look up at her. “You really wanna know?”

Montana nodded.

Jimmy sighed, then, before sitting upright. “I’m a part of the freak show, like all those other people you met,” he started, before tugging on his gloves and removing the first, and then just as swiftly the second. Montana’s eyes widened at the sight, hands oversized, fingers seemingly fused together so that they looked… lobster-like.  "Disgusting, right?“

Montana shook her head. "No, it’s - it’s not that. I don’t, it’s just that I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“That’s why they call it a freak show, LA.”

She rolled her eyes, then captured his gaze. It didn’t seem fair that someone as handsome as him be so down on himself, and in that moment she decided to do something about that, her hand reaching across to take one of his, lifting it up to hold it. “I bet you’re popular with all the girls,” she mused, confidence in this area coming easy. She’d been nervous, early, a little shell shocked by everything that she’d seen, but it was natural to fall back into this flirtatious, overly sure-of-herself manner.

Jimmy laughed softly. “The ones that aren’t horrified, sure.”

“I’m not horrified.”

“No?”

Montana shook her head, then, shifting so all of her body was on the bed, and then pulling his hand to rest over her chest, over her heartbeat.

“Well, hell,” Jimmy murmured.

She kissed him, then, the hand that wasn’t resting over his going to the side of his face to caress his cheek. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to random hookups, but there was something uniquely intimate about all of this, something that made her heart beat a little faster – and surely he could feel it – and it wasn’t long before she was shirtless and he was sliding his hands up her ballet skirt, testing, teasing, through the fabric of her underwear. “You sure?” he asked, and she had to fight the urge to laugh, kissing him quiet but nodding so that he’d know that, yes, she was. She was so fucking sure.

His fingers pushed the hem aside, then, and he slid two of his fused fingers into her, causing her to moan breathily. She was right, he had to be popular with women, because no man had ever managed to make her feel like this, and she arched her back against the bed as he kept up his motions, closing her eyes for a few moments before she opened them to take in Jimmy’s expression, his lip between his teeth and a grin across his features. God, if this was what it was like with a freak, she never wanted anybody normal again, and she was about to say such a thing when his palm grinded against her clit in just the right way, and she felt herself coming.

And then just as quickly she was coming again, determined to return the favor as her hands searched for his hardness through his pants and stroked at his impressive length. He helped her slide off his pants, a little frantically, and then him her skirt, and then he was guiding himself into her and pressing his forehead against hers as he started moving inside her, unable to resist the strangled cry he unleashed as he came inside her. “Jesus Christ, LA,” he panted, laying down next to her, lightly tracing circles on her arm with his fingernails. “I think Jupiter just became the new City of Angels.”

– – – – –

Curled against Jimmy’s side, listening to his faint snoring, something told Montana that Elsa was wrong: she did belong here, and she was determined to prove it.

[thebestoftimes]

50 QUESTION BOOK TAG FOR WORLD BOOK DAY

By me, Jess. I made this for world book day but then got depressed and didn’t post it on time lmao but here ya go kids be warned though it’s a long one. Also the numbers thing got fucked up and I couldn’t fix it.  I got a lot of these questions from other tags I’ve seen and google so if something sounds familiar... that’s why.

Who or what sparked your love of literature?

Aw my parents fueled my book habit when I was a kid and took me to the bookstore all the time and since then all my teachers have always encouraged me and made me love books even more than I thought possible.

Do you have an ‘odd’ book habit? (page sniffing/never leaving the house with a book)

It’s true that I never go anywhere without a book. I got one in my backpack or purse or reading on my phone but it’s always there.

Do you have a book that you think has changed your life? How?

A lot of books and series have made significant impacts on my life (like I can’t picture elementary school without Percy Jackson being in my life) but like as a person I can’t think of any one book that has changed who I am. It’s been a team effort.

Which book have you reread most frequently?

I think I reread Hush Hush every year lmao idk why

You can meet any author and ask one question. What author would you chose and what question would you ask?

I’d want to meet Shakespeare and ask him if all his characters really were just that gay or if we’re all reading too much into it.

Best book published this year so far?

It’s only March but The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi

Imagine you’ve started a book and don’t like it. Do you see the experience through to the bitter end, or are you able to talk away from it mid story?

I used to always finish what I started but now that I’m in college and have a mountain of a TBR I’ll just stop.

What book is top of your wish list/TBR pile?

Uhh A Winter’s Promise by Christelle Dabos  is on top rn

Favourite place to read?

My bed. Boring but a classic.

If you buy books, do you lend them out? Ever had a bad experience?

Of course. No all my friends respect my stuff and return them promptly.

What fictional character do you ship yourself with?

So many but I think Gansey and I from The Raven Cycle would make the best couple.

Weirdest thing you’ve used as a bookmark

I use whatever near me so I might have done something weirder but lately I’ve been using tissues because I have a tissue box by my bed and never real bookmarks. But I’ve used graded homework, a toy car, a crayon, earbuds, etc.

Favorite quality/qualities in a protagonist and antagonist

Wow this is s hard okay for protag I am a sucker for like stubborn, smartass with a martyr complex. Sad but true. Antags I love a good morally grey character or anti-villain. Tragic backstory but smart as hell. The worst (the best). Characters like the Darkling from The Grisha Trilogy, and Warner from the first Shatter Me book (I know he’s a good guy NOW but back then we all thought he was a sadistic and sexy villain).

Favorite genre and favorite book from that genre.

YA Urban Fantasy babyyy and that’d be City of Bones by Cassandra Clare or Lady Midnight by Cassandra Clare:)

  Best/worst movie adaptation in your eyes

Best: Harry Potter and The Hunger Games | Worst: Percy Jackson

Do you prefer reading your own books, or library books?

My own.

How do you choose your next book to read?

Literally whatever I’m feeling like at the moment.

Your favorite word.

I love many words but I have a soft spot for “lively” and “lilt”.

Book that got you hooked on reading/how you got hooked.

I’ve always been obsessed with reading but The Peter and the Starcatchers Series was like my shift from nicotine to heroine.

Opinion on dog-earing, margin writing, ect.

I only write in the margins of books I have to read for class/textbooks. And that’s for studying and active reading purposes. For any other situation: no.

Top 5 immediate to read in no order

A Winter’s Promise by Christelle Dabos

A Very Large Expanse of Sea by Tahereh Mafi

Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum

A Darker Shade of Magic by V.E Schwab

Most underrated book you’ve read

Definitely The Foxhole Court/ All for the Game series. Fairly small fanbase for some of THE most amazing books I’ve ever read. And the memes will have you in stitches.

What is the first book that catches your eye when you look at your bookshelf?

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell because of the exceedingly bright cover/spine haha

How do you arrange your books on your shelves?

LOL I do not have a system at all. I keep series and authors together and that’s it. Everything is placed where there is room.

You have the power to change a book’s ending. Which ending would you change and what would you make happen instead?

I’d change the end to Allegiant and SPOILERS SPOILERS not make Tris fucking die over her shitty ass brother. I know why she did it but like Veronica girl wyd with that. And I’d want the entirety of Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins to be rewritten into a book that just focused on the domestic life of Finnick and Annie and no one dies.

Favourite book cover?

This is SO HARD. Either The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer by Michelle Hodkin or Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi

Which book from your childhood has had the most impact on you?

My entire personality was shaped by the Maxmimum Ride series by James Patterson. For better and worse.

When reading, what do you value most: writing style, characters, plot, world building, pacing, etc?

Characters. I think all of those things are essential and as I read more and more, the pickier I get, but I find myself leaning towards being a fan of a book when I become obsessed with the characters. Like hey!! New friends!!! For my brain!!!

Do you prefer buying books or borrowing them from a library/friend?

Buying them even though I shouldn’t. It’s a real problem.

What books/sequels that are being published this year are you most excited for?

SO MANY OH MY GOD

Okay some of these already came out because it’s March right now but I’ll include them anyways.

SEQUELS/ SPIN-OFFS AND SHIT

The Wicked King by Holly Black; King of Scars by Leigh Bardugo; Dream by Natalia Jaster; Chain of Gold by Cassandra Clare; The Red Scrolls of Magic by Cassandra Clare; Capturing the Devil by Kerri Maniscalco, Call Down the Hawk by Maggie Stiefvater; Defy Me by Tahereh Mafi; The Shaw Confessions #3 by Michelle Hodkin

FIRST BOOKS

The Binding by Bridget Collins; Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan; The Gilded Wolves by Roshani Chokshi; A Curse So Dark and Lonely by Brigid Kemmerer; Romanov by Nadine Brandes; The Infinite Noise by Lauren Shippen; The Beautiful by Renee Ahdieh

Which fictional character would you want as a sidekick?

Percy Jackson because he’s my firstborn son and one of my favourite characters of all time. He is talented, smart, hilarious, an amazing friend, and the sweetest of boys (when he isn’t the sassiest of boys).

How many books have you read so far this year?

Only 15 I am so behind :(

What’s been your favourite read so far this year?

Oh man. Gotta be Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo :)

You’re stuck on an island with a suitcase big enough to hold five books. What books are they?

I probably shouldn’t cheat and say How to Build a Boat huh

City of Bones by Cassandra Clare

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

The King’s Men by Nora Sakovic

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

If you had to go out to dinner with any character who would it be and why? What would you talk about?

Will Herondale and we’d talk about books

Is there a book you have such a hatred for that you would throw it off of the highest tower knowing that the last copy of it will be destroyed so that not another living soul can read it or would you rather keep it and give it to someone else who might actually enjoy it?

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne or After by Anna Todd

Do you believe books make nice decoration?

I mean. I think they should be read before used as decor but I love showing off my books so I guess both. But I don’t believe in buying books for the purpose of decoration instead of reference or reading lol

Do you listen to music when you read? Or do you need complete silence? 

I need silence or low amount of white noise. I used to read and listen to Taylor Swift when I was a kid but I can’t do it anymore.

Do you have a favorite book? If not are you in the group that believes there are too many great books out there to just choose one?

I tell people it’s City of Bones by Cassandra Clare but in all honesty no I don’t have a favourite.

Do you sleep with books under your pillow.

Nope

Do you go to the library or do you have a book buying addiction or are you one of those lucky people who is able to do both?

I do both. Mostly bookstore though.

Own any book inspired clothing?

Yes. Several items :)

Have you ever read a book in another language?

I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Tristan and Isolde, and Beauty and the Beast in French. And parts of Les Mis.

Strangest book you’ve ever read?

John Dies at the End by David Wong. Still not sure exactly what was going on. 

Favourite type of non-fiction?

Memoirs babey

Favourite non-fiction?

Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand

Favourite subject to read about?

History

Favourite book you’ve read in school?

Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte

Favourite work of Shakespeare?

Hamlet

Character you’d love as a mom or dad or guardian?

Hmm Sally Jackson, The Women of 300 Fox Way, or Tessa and Will (they totally count because The Last Hours Series)

I tag literally whoever wants to do this and @fangirl-daydreamer97 @acleeds12 @iviisastrawberry @221bdoom @bicycles-bees-bisexuals @betterthanapit @dippindots126 @vlctorvale

[ravenclawravings]

Tag Game

Hi all! Recently we have been tagged in a bunch of those tag games. So instead of clogging your newsfeed we decided to combine a bunch into one post.

Here are some of you who tagged us! (I tried to find you all but, we get a lot of notifications and Tumblr makes it very hard to sort through them)

Tagged by: @headcanonsandmore 

@fuckitup-in-style,

@acciohermionejg

@iamskylorsaurus

@unusuallyzealousburgette

Gender: Both of us are girls.

Birthday: Zoe: March 28th. Alex: March 11th

Last movie seen: Zoe: Dunkirk Alex: Star Wars: The Last Jedi

What do you post/reblog: Zoe: A bunch of random crap. Alex: On this blog we post #relatable content. On my personal I just shitpost

Last thing you Googled: Zoe: “List of apex predators” Alex: “how do radiators know when to turn on”

Favorite blog: Zoe: No idea. Alex: @myendlessparade has some dank content ;)

Dream job: Zoe: Writer/ youtuber but I’m bad at both Alex: YouTuber or a paid/professional internet content creator

Dream trip: Zoe: I don’t know, I haven’t been to Japan before, I guess Alex: I really want to go to Germany but, I’d love to go anywhere in Europe. Or anywhere outside the US. Or anywhere really.

What would be your first entry in a new diary: Zoe: I don’t diary Alex: Probably something really random, a random thought perhaps. All of my past journals are filled with weird shit like “Tap Dancing Cat Play” with zero context

Top 3 things you love about yourself: Zoe: Why is this so hard? Can I say things I love about Alex instead? 1) She’s smart and funny and a great person to be around. 2) She’s creative and works so hard on the things she’s passionate about. 3) She’s supportive and understanding and all around a great friend. Alex: d’awwwww <3 turning the tables now - here are three reasons I love Zoe: 1. She’s a very accepting, patient and understanding friend. 2. She’s full of good ideas and the reason we started this blog. Also partly convinced me to pursue YouTube seriously (speaking of we need to do something about the gaming channel) 3. She has a very dark and dry humor, we can talk and laugh for hours

3 things you wish you knew how to do: Zoe: 1) Drive stick, 2) speak a different language (I’ve tried, I’m really bad at it), 3) manage my finances Alex: 1. Make gifs, 2. play an instrument, 3. drive??!?

Something you wish you had discovered/invented first: Zoe: I honestly don’t know. Alex: I asked Jake what to say and he said “submarines.” So I guess submarines

3 qualities you like in a person: Zoe: 1) their sense of humor, 2) intelligence, 3) creativity Alex: 1. taste in media, 2. humor, 3. uniqueness

3 qualities you dislike in a person: Zoe: 1) Cockiness, 2) overly defensive, 3) when someone talks over someone else and especially when they don’t stop and listen when the first person tries to keep talking Alex: 1. Selfishness, 2. carelessness, 3. when they walk slowly in front of me

Favorite planet: Zoe: I guess technically Earth because I live here, but viva la Pluto! Alex: Mars! Mars has such a vast history for such a barren planet.

A resolution you make every year: Zoe: I don’t make resolutions. Alex: I don’t really make resolutions but, I try to be less hard on myself each year

Something you’re better at than most people: Zoe: Um... writing? Alex: Video editing

Something you’re worse at than most people: Zoe: Talking to other people. Alex: Making friends

Favorite thing about tumblr: Zoe: Memes? Alex: MEMES and cute animal pictures

Least favourite thing about tumblr: Zoe: The entire way that this site is set up is like someone threw darts at a board and went “so this goes here, and uh, I guess that’s how we do this...” Alex: Dear god, this website is designed poorly for blog runners! There is no clear way to sort notifications, you either get them all or none at all. Also there have been times when a queued post just doesn’t post or tags just delete themselves while you’re typing them.

Weapon of choice: Zoe: Knives or a bow and arrow (I’m actually quite good at archery) Alex: Uh, none...

Something not many people know about you:  Zoe: I was going to be in a production with my dad trying to break the world record of most roller coasters ridden in a day, but the plans everything fell through about midway through, so it never happened. Alex: In middle school I used wear one ankle sock and one knee high because...fashion...?

Favorite means of transport: Zoe: I like driving, but if I’m going into the city, I’m taking the train. Alex: God, I hate all means of transportation. It’s all bad. Let’s just learn how to teleport already

Favorite story: Zoe: Harry Potter Alex: A New Hope

Chicken or egg: Zoe: Dinosaur Alex: I was going to say chicken but, Zoe’s answer is the really the best one

Something that always makes you laugh: Zoe: Cats. Alex: When Zelda yells around the apartment at her toys

What is the strangest thing about you: Zoe: You should see some of the texts I send Alex. Alex: just who I am as a person

You get to switch places with someone for a day, who is it and why: Zoe: Can I switch places with my cat? Alex: I’m stealing Zoe’s answer. Fuck yeah! I’d love to be Zelda for a day!

Name: Zoe Alex

Nicknames: Zoe: None Alex: Weasel

Height: Zoe: 5′7″ Alex: 5′3″

Orientation: Zoe: Hell if I know Alex: straight

Nationality: Zoe: I’m a US and UK citizen. Alex: ‘murican

Favorite Fruit: Zoe: Banana? Alex: Oranges

Favorite Season: Zoe: Fall Alex: Fall

Favorite Flower: Zoe: Roses Alex: Blue Roses! (only people from high school will get this joke and none them follow me....)

Favorite Scents: Zoe: Burning wood Alex: Most any candle

Favorite Color: Zoe: Purple Alex: Purple

Favorite Animals: Zoe: Cheetah, wolves, sea pancake Alex: Zelda!

Coffee, Tea or Hot Chocolate: Zoe: Depends on my mood Alex: All of the above, please

Average Sleep Hours: Zoe: 6 Alex: 8?

Dog or Cat Person: Zoe: Both Alex: Love both but, I really like cats

Favorite Fictional Characters: Zoe: Oh god, Aragorn, Harry Potter, Sirius Black, Gandalf, don’t make me choose, I could keep going. Alex: Han Solo, The Master, Mac, Michael Scott, Squidward (??), I don’t know man!

Number of Blankets You Sleep with: Zoe: Anywhere between 1 and 4 Alex: Normally one but, if it’s real cold, two or more

Blog Created: Zoe: This blog was created a little over a year ago, my personal blog was created something like nine years ago I think. Alex: Mine was made like 6 years ago?

Number of Followers: 48,100

Random fact: Zoe: When people are hanged, they die from lack of blood flow to the brain. Alex: Most female cats are right pawed

Star sign: Zoe: Aries Alex: Pisces

Hogwarts House: Take a guess

Why I made this account: Zoe: I made the account because I wanted something to do, and then I invited Alex to be a part of it with me. Alex: What she said ^

Reason for url: Alliteration is cool?

My favorite writer: Zoe: It changes all the time. Alex: Dr. Seuss

My favorite book: Zoe: Harry Potter? Alex: I have no clue?

My favorite movie: Zoe: Lord of the Rings Alex: Oh dear, I don’t know... Ed Wood (1994) ?

Time: Zoe: 15:46 Alex: 9:58pm

Favourite bands: Zoe: Queen, The Who, FOB, Muse, a lot. Alex: Fall Out Boy, Imagine Dragons, Panic! at the Disco

Favourite solo artists: Zoe: No clue Alex: Uh none? I don’t really listen to music besides the three bands listed and movie soundtracks

Song stuck in my head: Zoe: Right now, it’s “I’m Only Joking” by Kongos Alex: “Champion” by Fall Out Boy

Last show I watched: Zoe: NCIS Alex: I don’t really know. It’s between The Punisher, Black Mirror and Peep Show. I watch so many things I forget when I last watched it

Do I get asks: Zoe: Not really. Alex: We get asks here pretty often. I never get any personally - except spam

Lucky number: Zoe: 13 Alex: 3

Instruments: Zoe: I played the clarinet ages ago, and I sorta learned Violin for a little bit, but if you asked me to play any instrument now, I’d probably suck. Alex: I am not talented enough

What I am wearing: Zoe: Plaid and leggings. Alex: Grey and black sweater, leggings and draped in a blanket 

Favourite food: Zoe: I want pancakes right now, so let’s go with that? Alex: I’m so bad at picking favorite things! I just love food!

Last book I read: Zoe: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (it’s tradition for me to reread all the novels every year, and I was late last year, so I only just finished it in time) Alex: The Disaster Artist

3 favorite fandoms: Zoe: Oh, god... Harry Potter, LotR, and i guess certain youtubers? Alex: uh, that changes depending on how I’m feeling. Right now, probably, Star Wars, YouTube and something else?

[snickxs]

It’s a little late but thanks to @caffeinatedcomplaints for tagging me!

Gender: Male

Birthday: May 2nd

Last Movie Seen: Those People

What do you post/reblog: Sometimes personal stuff, sometimes aesthetic stuff, mostly whatever I like

Last thing you googled: Those People Wikia because I skipped to the end but still wanted to know the plot lol

Favorite blog: @horaetio is definitely my favorite 

Dream job: Something involving Theatre, Cast member on SNL

Dream Trip: TBD -- i’m a very indecisive person

What would be your first entry in a new diary: I’d probably write about where I am currently in life, who I’m interested in, Fam drama, etc.

Top 3 things you love about yourself: whoo boy, uh...

-Resilient, Creative, and that I don’t own a pair of Crocs

3 Things you wish you knew how to do: 

-Sing/Music, to Speak another language fluently (I’m alright at French but nowhere near fluent), and Not procrastinate

Something you wish you had discovered/invented first: My potential lol

3 Qualities you like in a person:

-Honesty, Kind person but not too kind, and a sense of humor (a must)

3 Qualities you dislike in a person:

-Lying, no sense of adventure, stick in the mud

Favorite planet: Venus

A resolution you make every year: To be a nicer, more positive person

Something you’re better at than most people: Hiding my emotions, making coffee

Something you’re worse at than most people: being nice

Favorite thing about tumblr: To quote @caffeinatedcomplaints “Nothing, I hate this fucking website but i’m in too deep now lol”

Least favorite thing about tumblr: Pornbots. Porn blogs good, Pornbots bad

Weapon of choice: Dagger

Something not many people know about you: I’m pretty honest but probably I went through this phase in my life where I was OBSESSED with Glee. I’m over it now. The songs still slap though.

Favorite means of transport: kayaking, let’s kayak EVERYWHERE

Favorite story: Lexie and Meredith Grey’s on Grey’s Anatomy, RIP

Chicken or Egg: Egg because I was once upon a time known for egg puns

Something that always makes you laugh: When someone falls or overshares at inappropriate times. It’s an uncomfortable laugh lmao

What is the strangest thing about you: I am the most casual nonchalant puker

You get to switch places with someone for a day, who is it and why: Marc Shaw, my theatre professor. I wanna know how he lives.

I tag: @deranged-souls @princemaouli @sava-simmons @bluetintedlenses @sapphicsaturnian @aplaceofhisown

[tigerellasims]

10 questions tag (and extras)

Rules: Always post the rules, answer the questions given to you and tag some friends!

i was tagged by @bleurainsims tysm bby

1) Favorite curse Word? definitely fuck. that word comes out of my mouth way too much

2) Coke or Pepsi? this is hard cause i love both but probably pepsi more

3)  What superpower would you like to have? probably like the power to fly or super speed or something cool like that

4) Ultimate pet peeve? not covering your mouth when you cough is my biggest pet peeve like if you do it around me i may actually punch you

5) Without EPs, and DLCs, Sims 3 or Sims 4? ts3 cause i remember that was the one i played the longest without anything for it and i had a blast

6)  When was the last time you screamed at the top of your lungs? honestly probably years ago

7) What is something you’ve done that you wish you could undo? this is a hard one.. sometimes i wish i could undo how crappy i did in school?

8) If you had to change your name, what would your new name be? that’s a hard one. i love the name lila tho

9) Last lie you told? i can’t actually remember

10) Strangest thing you’ve ever eaten? uhh this is hard idk. i don’t really try new things so everything i eat is pretty normal. i’m gonna say pineapple pizza ok

Extra

1) What’s your most embarrassing childhood memory? so in primary school (which is like middle school for others maybe? idk) we used to play what’s the time mr. wolf at lunch time (if you don’t know what that is you can probably google it) and i was the one being chased and when the boy caught me he thought it would be a good idea to lift me up and accidentally lifted my skirt up so my underwear were showing lol. v embarrassing

2) What do you love about yourself most? i think i love my ability to bounce back from anything bad that happens to me. i’m really good at ‘being ok’

3) If you were forced to open a bakery, what would you name it? the one and only fairy milk bakery ofc

4) What’s your favorite color? red

5) Do you sing in the shower? of course

6) What’s your favorite movie? grease bby

7) Last thing you bought? actually cats & dogs. i don’t buy much lmao

8) What was the last thing you ate? chicken soup

9) Do you like scary movies or comedy movies more? i wanna say scary but i’m such a wimp so comedy

10) 3 things you cannot live without? my doggo, my nan, my bf and chocolate

i tag @blueorchidsims @conz-does-simming @sassyllamas @healssims @tangandzing @oopcostello @amanasims @crabb-sims @thriftytrait @oaksim and @crissplayssims

[dreamysoshi]

i was tagged by @ladynoblesong -- thanks wil! hope you’re having a good holiday season. 

gender: cis girl

birthday: january 2nd, 1997

last movie seen: the shape of water

what do you post/reblog: some fandoms, aesthetic, fashion, music, whatever

last thing you googled: song lyrics for a song by the pet shop boys

favourite blog: i don’t have a favorite, but i do appreciate blogs that are mostly good memes/humor

dream job: something where i can travel a lot, and make a real impact. probably something in national security research

dream trip: japan, east africa, or disney world with my family

what would be your first entry in a new diary: i don’t really keep a diary, but i guess talk about how i’m currently very frustrated with my mother and have barely talked to her in two days lmao rip

top three things you love about yourself: my intelligence, my taste in music, and my neck (that sounds weird, but it’s my favorite body part)

three things you wish you knew how to do: speak arabic, play piano better, ice skate

something you wish you had discovered/invented first: i wish i had been an explorer, who had discovered a previous unknown place or land

three qualities you like in a person: ambitious, witty, compassionate

three qualities you dislike in a person: obnoxious, rude, entitled 

favourite planet: venus or neptune

a resolution you make every year: fix my sleep schedule and work out more

something you’re better at than most people: multitasking, keeping focused, picking up new things

something you’re worse at than most people: understanding where people are coming from, seeing how my actions affect others

favourite thing about tumblr: pretty edits, memes, discussing ships and things with others

least favourite thing about tumblr: most of y’all need to go outside, i swear to fucking god

weapon of choice: sword! i fenced for five years, i know i’d be good in a fight

something not many people know about you: i have a weird, deathly fear of caterpillars

favourite means of transport: whatever gets me somewhere fastest. i like biking in cities, though.

favourite story: i don’t know what this means, exactly, but i do like telling my friends about how tonya harding hired someone to take out nancy kerrigan’s leg a month before the 1994 winter olympics in lillehammer

chicken or egg: as in which came first? the egg, because you need the egg to hatch into the chicken. 

something that always makes you laugh: quoting vines with my friends, particularly when my friend says “if ____, your mom’s a hoe!”

what is the strangest thing about you: i disassociate in the middle of conversations rip me

you get to switch places with someone for a day, who is it and why: the person who plays belle at disneyworld

tagging: @robbinsarizona, @gulbaharsultan, @ginaliinetti, @lareinedefer, and @lady-arryn

[octoberwren]

If it’s words you seek (I’ll Remember You) Chapter 2.

Thank you all so much for loving this odd ball fic, seriously I can not tell you enough how much I adore you all for it! The only thing I have to say about this chapter is that it almost killed me. I wanted it to be perfect, so of course I ended up re-writing it like a thousand times. Yep. (I’m neurotic about posting no matter how many time I’ve done it, I’d hate to disappoint you guys who have liked it so much.) But now that it’s done I’m happy with it, you might not be with the amount of angst. I can’t write fluff guys. I wish I could, my mind would love me more for it.

Anyway...happy reading! Hope you enjoy. Seeing as this is going to be a multi-fic you’re more than welcome to ask me to tag you in it! I love doing that ; )

Chapter 1 here

Also on Ao3 for your convenience

(I own nothing, Marvel owns me)

Summary: Darcy Lewis is many things, avoidance expert, current holder of the Hydra Survivor Cup and not to boast, but she's at an expert level with self defense in sarcasm and shiny wit.

What she's absolutely not is Steve Rogers Soulmate, she doesn't give a flying monkey what The Universe is trying to tell her with the 'gifts' she's recently acquired, i.e Reading His Mind and other tricks that have to do with The Good Captain.Her and Steve? 

Pffft, that's never gonna happen.

Chapter 2: Hindsight is a bitch and so is HYDRA.

3 years ago

Darcy loved her job, most days. The benefits were good, and honestly, she needed those, it was all fine and dandy being an intern with Jane when there weren't Aliens and Gods trying to have a smackdown on planet earth. And for some Loony Toons reason, Darcy was always smack dab in the middle of all of that world ending hoopla.

So when Nick Fury himself offered her a job, well what was she supposed to say?

No. She could have said no, Jane had demanded she say "Fuck no, you damn pirate." But Darcy really needed the health coverage, it was just a hop skip and away before she was shot at, and she was trying to be an adult and handle her business.

Janey hated the idea, but she slowly came around when Darcy had pointed out quite reasonably, if she said so herself, that what better way to keep an eye on S.H.I.E.L.D shenanigans than to have an all-access pass to their home base.

Technically her job title was ‘File Manager', so a lackey in Nick Fury terms, Darcy fully believed he'd only given her the job so he could keep an eye on her. But whatever, she had a coffee shop in her workplace and a hell of a view.

A view she had been creepy staring at for over three months now, it was borderline stalker behavior. But the man had an ass that wouldn't quit, and that navy uniform did so many things for Darcy's late night imagination, that she physically couldn't help but stare.

It was only when she started noticing other things that Darcy thought she may be in some trouble here.

Like the way he opened doors for the science dudes, who stuttered and looked on in awe, or how he sometimes looked so lost, like a boy who let go of his mother's hand. He came in some days bloody and broken, with eyes that seemed too haunted to be real. It took everything Darcy had and then some not to rush over and hug the stuffing out of his chest, just so he didn't look like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders alone.

Four months in and when she could actually detect his steady steps from a room away, Darcy decided that enough was enough, she needed to do something before she bear-hugged the man out of sheer frustration.

It was then that Darcy came up with a foolproof plan; because everyone loved coffee right? Right.

She'd put on her big girl pants and give him something to smile about because his sad face was breaking her soul, so she ordered a coffee just the way he like it, ignoring the side-eye she received from the barista when she wrote down the order.

She then marched her butt down to his office that looked as bummed out as he was, with the plain gray walls and bare furnishing practically screaming his loneliness out loud with hand gestures. Darcy lifted her hand to knock on the Captain's door, only to reel back in shock when it opened up.

Steve Rogers towered over her and for a split second Darcy felt like she was going to lose her breath, he was just so damn handsome it was unfair to the people of earth.

His open face blanked carefully when he saw her standing there holding two coffees. He took in his name on one of the cups and Darcy's stomach dropped when she saw the flicker of something flash through his eyes. Before he even opened his mouth, Darcy had the strangest sort of sixth sense, she felt something disastrous coming her way, she knew exactly what he was going to say and she wanted to stop this, she wanted to wake up this morning in total ignorance. The coffee cups started to tremble in her hands as she began to wish feverently that this wasn't what she thought is was.

But Steve didn't notice her distress, he spoke the words that damned them both, "Sorry Miss, but whatever the hell this is, you're not my priority."

And just as she knew it would, Darcy's world shifted on its axis and fell apart at her feet.

She opened her mouth ignoring everything in her screaming to shut the hell up-keep quiet-he doesn't need to know- it was instinctive, she wanted to say something, anything to him, not to leave her alone like this, but she could only let out a stutter, It was too late anyway, he was already turning away from her, even when the coffees fell from her hand and landed on the floor in a wet mess, he never even glanced back in her direction.

Darcy stood like a statue, watching Captain America-no-Steve Rogers (because of fucking course her mother was right. She wasn't special, she'd never be great enough for him, for the world he belonged to.) walk away with his shoulders straight like the soldier he was. He blocked out the evening sun as he left her and engulfed her surroundings in darkness.

Darcy really thinks her brain is coming up with bullshit metaphors at inappropriate times, but she can't breathe. Let alone think.

She's left standing in the middle of his door, the air around her seemed so much colder than it was before, her teeth started chattering against the freezing air and she wanted to break down and laugh or cry, maybe both, she wanted to sink to her knees and yell that she knew it, she knew this was always going to be her downfall.

All those years of looking at her mark, she had stupidly convinced herself that she was bigger than this moment.

It was the worst lie she had ever told herself.

She couldn't breathe.

And for a vomit inducing second she thought she was going to black out, but then no, she knew this feeling, she just hadn't felt it for a few years now, she was having a panic attack. Joyness abound today.

She slid to the ground slowly, tracking her breaths, trying to touch the floor, smell the air, until her heart didn't feel like it was going to explode from her chest in a gory mess.

She hadn't felt this fragile-and her mind spits the word like venom-since she left her shitty hometown, filled with shitty people.

Because this wasn't some average Joe…it wasn't someone who thought she was just a body with big boobs and no brains or even someone that thought her life experience consisted of a nice suburban life and no real tragedy. It wasn't even her mother's condescending taunting, Darcy dear, are you sure you want to go out in that? Are you sure Political Science is the field for you? Don't you think he'll love you more if you cleaned the house?

This was someone that-Thor help her- she wanted respect from. She had actually wanted him to like her, she all but scoffs at that, all she got was a mere glance and words that she never thought would spill from his perfect lips.

Steve Rogers was her soulmate, a shudder wracks her body with just that thought, he was a good person, all the things she told herself about her mythical ‘one' was ignorant.

She had read about his heroic deeds in history class and had admired him long before he turned out to be alive and walking in the same semi-circle as her own.

What the hell was the universe thinking pairing her up with him? Her insecurities seemed to drown out the noise of the building as she got up and headed home.

In the days, weeks after, Darcy was a mess, and she couldn't shake herself out of it no matter how stubbornly she wanted to. It felt like her soul was missing, and maybe it was, maybe he took it from her the moment he spoke.

She went from rage to helplessness. One day she was convinced she was going to storm into his office and yell every curse words she knew and ones that she made up on the spot. She wanted to see him regret ever speaking those words, but before she'd even get to his door she ran away in a fit of panic.

There were plenty times she just paced the hallway and Darcy knew she looked crazy, hell, she felt like a nutjob. She stayed away from work a lot as well, she was surprised Nick Fury didn't burst into her room and drag her out by her feet. (In the oncoming days she realized why he didn't and Darcy barely kept the tears away when she thought about how her life would have been, if she just put on the news)

Darcy had finally made up her mind, she would just say something, he had the right to at least know, Darcy couldn't keep it from him, that was unfair, although she really, really wanted to. It was taking most of her strength not to get on a plane and book it to the nearest deserted island. She wanted to crawl into a ball and scream until her throat was sore. But Darcy Lewis wasn't a coward, and she wouldn't let her shitty hometown be right about her. She wasn't second best, she deserved more out of her life than to be a throwaway thought.

Steve may not want her around but he'd at least know what they meant to each other, then and only then could he decide on where he wanted her in his world. (and if he didn't want her anywhere near him, then she would accept it like the grown-up she was, even if the very thought left her with an ache in her heart,)

So with that, Darcy bought a new cup of coffee, and so help her if he even thought of turning the drink of Gods away again, she entered his empty office and waited and then waited some more.

She stood for so long, straining to hear even the slightest noise, that her back protested her very existence. Bored, she put the coffee down at his table and sat at his desk, his chair swiveled and she amused herself by twirling in it, and almost threw it to the ground when she heard a noise outside. When it grew quiet again and her thundering heart settled down, she figured it wasn't Steve about to catch her in her lunacy.

When she heard the thud again she got annoyed at the dumbass that was ruining her fun times, she was an anxiety-ridden mess and whoever the hell that was, was going to get a mouth full from her when she let loose all her nervous ramblings and probably, no definitely, some insults.

She stormed out the room and peeked around a corner but she instantly deflated when she saw Adam looking at her sheepishly, while he tried to get into another office a few doors down. Adam was a good guy but he looked more like he should be down with the sciences dudes, than working as a field agent. He was also spacy enough that forgetting his keys was common enough occurrence.

Darcy was about to offer her help like she normally did, but stopped when she heard a familiar deep voice coming from the speakers, Steve's voiced echoed along the walls and what came next made her blood run cold with fear.

"Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D agents, this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time, to tell the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The S.T.R.I.K.E and insight crew are HYDRA as well. I don't know how many more, but I know their in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury and it won't end there. If you launch those helicairriers today, HYDRA will kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not."

Darcy's emotions ping-ponged from self-disgust and shame that she didn't know, after all these days, Steve had been going through so much worse things than her. He said he had been hunted, like he was just a step away from a bullet and she really fucking hoped he was okay because she wasn't sure she'd forgive herself if he wasn't.

Next was a burning anger that made her skin hot thinking of those HYDRA dicks, she fucking hated Nazi's and she hated that she worked in a place that was crawling with them. It was like a light switch clicked on, as Darcy realized that she wasn't alone listening to that announcement. When her eyes met Adam's, Darcy wanted to spit, his mask of clumsiness had fallen away and in its place was an ugly rage that she had never seen on another human face before. He looked alien to her.

"Oh Darcy," He leered at her, and she wanted to throw up, preferably on him, the dickwad. "I really wish he had waited at least a few seconds. This might have been less painful for you."

She had a second to think ‘what the actual fuck?' before he took steps towards her, but nope, she backed the hell up and slammed the door in his face, sliding the lock home.

"Please, Darcy, you think that will stop HYDRA?" His voice was too smooth behind the door, to clean and Darcy never hated someone so much in her life. "Do you think he can stop this? We're HYDRA, If a head is cut off, one shall grow in its place."

She snorted at that, even when the door kicked in she was still chuckling with amusement at these massive douche-nozzles, "Is that in your brochure? Because and I'm just being honest here, that is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. You do know that the Greek legend ended with Hercules killing the monster right? You have cracked open a book before, right?. So I'd say the odds are against you here Adam, there's a real-life legend kicking your buddies asses right now, no way you're getting out of this alive."

Wow, who knew a vein could thorb that angrily? Guess she hit a nerve, she wasn't smug, much. Oh who the hell was she kidding, the smirk curved her face like war paint.

"This is what's going to happen little girl," she didn't actually think he could piss her off more, but that kind of flew out the window and died a horrible death with that remark, "You're going to stay still and not move, I'm going to take all the information I can out of your hero's computer. I'll take you away and get a promotion for all my trouble. You, on the other hand, will be locked away in a room so small, that by week one you'll have lost your mind, your bravado will vanish and I'll be there every step of the way to watch it happen."  

She could lie to herself and say she was just buying time until help arrived, or that she was a second away from getting out of this. But the dread was lodged like a stone in her stomach, and she could tell that no one was coming for her. Especially not the man she really wanted to see, he was probably a bit busy saving the world.

There was no way out, but even as her fingers shook with terror, she'd still be damned if she let him see her fear, he wouldn't get that from her, "Okay dude, just two things, this is the twenty-first century, do you really want to be walking around as a chauvinistic prick? Because I think that's the wrong lifestyle choice."

"Also, who said it was just bravado? Kudos on the big words, by the way, some people, but not you obviously, would clearly see all my talk for what it was... Stalling." Darcy then flipped over the coffee cup that was for Steve and it sloshed over the computer's hard drive, there was a sizzle and- a quite frankly- underwhelming whine as the thing was destroyed.

She glanced up at his gaping mouth and shrugged carelessly, "Guess that promotion is off the table now, huh? Sucks for you."

The last thing Darcy could recall without a head-splitting throb was a fist barrelling towards her face.

Three years later and Adam was lying in his own pool of blood while Darcy stood over him, knife in her hand, and sick threatening to give way, and if she could go back, she'd tell that girl pacing outside of Steve's office to say something. To stop being such a chicken shit and use her damn voice. She had enough light in her soul to be worthy of his affection, she could be what the universe believed she was; the perfect match for him.

Now though, she had crimson blood dripping from her hands and guilt suffocating her lungs, his love was the last thing Darcy would ever deserve.

Present

Steve stumbled back from her, shaking his head as if to clear it, "What the hell?"

Darcy turned her head, she really didn't want to see what realization he came to, what kind of emotions she had unwilling let him feel, she just hoped whatever he was going to do, he'd make it quick and spare her the drama. This day had been long enough already, she was exhausted, she really didn't care how it ended at this point. Even if they had a prison at this…she was on a farm… How the hell did she only notice that now, where exactly did they expect to keep her locked up, in the barn with Betty the cow?

"Steve what-" Whatever Bucky was going to say was drowned out by her startled shriek, as Steve bloody Rodgers, reached down and hauled her off the ground and into his arms.

Darcy wasn't going to lie, this was on her her bucket list, but she was too shocked to actually enjoy the moment, she's also pretty sure she looked like an absolute idiot with her mouth hanging open as she stared up at his face.

His strong jawline of freedom tightened, when he noticed her appalled look, and was it her imagination or was he blushing slightly? She had to reel in the urge to pinch his cheeks, she succeeded, but by barely an inch of self-control.

"You're in agonizing pain, Miss Lewis. I could feel it." Darcy felt the rumble of his voice against her side, and she needed to have a stern talking to with her body because she shivered in response to the feeling and now was definitely not the time for her it to start perking up like a bloodhound.

He did smell sinfully good though, and her lady parts loved it. She wasn't even sorry.

If anything it looked like Steve blushed harder and her curiosity was building, she really wanted to ask what kind of aftershave he used (she thought it may have been specially made just for her, like in an actual lab somewhere) but that would involve speaking, and that was something she was going to avoid at all costs. Like the end of the world type stakes before she even uttered an I'm-your-soulmate-let's-go-for-coffee-and- by- coffee-I mean-sex.

"So," Steve cleared his throat and shifted her in his grip, and damn she wanted to melt into a puddle as she watched his muscles flex and ripple, "You can communicate your thoughts through touch?"

It was then that Darcy realized a few things in rapid succession, Steve had no idea that it was only him that she could communicate with through touch, hell she didn't even know she had that little trick up her sleeve or she would have built a literal wall around herself and not just her emotions.

Another thing was when Steve felt her pain, he picked her up gently, he was still holding her as if she was made of glass, it wasn't a big revelation but it was just so damn sweet of him that it made the cliff notes, especially if he felt her guilt, then he really was the best man she had ever come across. (He really needed to cut that shit out if he ever expected her not to love him.)

The last thing was probably the more important one, her hands were wrapped around his neck, so he had to be feeling all the inappropriate thoughts about those muscles, and how she had fantasized about the many things he could do with them.

So now she was flailing around in his arms as she tried to break free because nope, him actually knowing she lusted after him ruined The Plan. The not talking to him until death or the world imploded plan. It had its flaws but it was working so far.

She wasn't exactly succeeding in trying to run away with some sort of dignity intact, Steve just held her tighter in his unmovable arms, "Miss Lewis, please stop, you'll hurt yourself and despite what you may think, even if you did betray us, I wouldn't want anyone to be hurt under my watch. And you're in too much pain to disrupt your injuries any further."

She wished she could tell him that his words hurt a hell of a lot worse than any bullet wounds she suffered from. Darcy was used to physical pain, it was always her emotions that ran a little too deep and cut too sharply with her.

She assumed that he had felt her guilt and hey, at least she knew now where she stood. That didn't stop her from folding her arms across her chest as he walked into the house. If she could minimise skin contact and her subsequent humiliation then she would take every precaution she could.

They walked past the kids, now watching tv and Darcy didn't stick out her tongue when the little girl giggled at her position in Steve's arms. She was an adult, she had loads of restraint.

No, she did not. She leant over Steve's huge shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the little tattle tail.

"That wasn't very nice," Steve said as they entered the hallway she had bolted from, she could hear the amusement softening his tone, and Darcy couldn't help the grin that teased her lips if she tried.

His answering grin lit the embers of a flame she thought had been killed years ago, she had to reached down deep to actually feel that it was hope surging in her bloodstream. Darcy tried desperately to douse it but it kept flickering up again, and she wished that whatever happened next that, that small amount of hope didn't end up sealing her fate for the worse.

Fun fact, fear was one of the biggest triggers to her bond with Steve, Hydra used that information brutally. And an awesome effect was that being experimented on left Darcy with a healthy dose of fearing needles. So when Steve had left her in the room with Helen, the doctor who she really regretted pushing and yeah she felt like a dick for hurting the woman, but now that she had a huge needle in her hands, she would call them very much even, alright.

Darcy tried closing her eyes and counting to ten, she tried wrapping her hands in the sheets to feels something concrete, but her heart wouldn't stop slamming against her rib cage, she didn't want this, she hated this, invading his privacy. It wasn't hers to have, it was never hers to keep. She couldn't just-

"Sam touched her," Steve said to half of The Avengers, all sitting on the porch looking up at their leader

"What?" Clint asked standing behind a brunette that Darcy knew from past episodes of Walking In Steve's Shoes, was the archer's wife and Soulmate. She cradled a baby in her hands and Darcy had never seen something so small and fragile before or that damn adorable.

Natasha got to what Steve was trying to say first, "When Darcy touched Sam, I assume he felt nothing?" When the man nodded his answer, she carried on, "She made skin contact with Helen as well."

"So what you're sayin' is that Steve's finally got a girl he can understand?" Bucky chuckled at his friend's heated glare, but Darcy didn't feel real happy. If they could figure this out it was only a step closer to that something bigger and more terrifying.

Steve wasn't stupid, he'd add it all up and get a big fat Soulmate red flag.

The only shot she had was that he was still feeling confused, "All I felt was guilt and pain." He stated and Darcy felt a sudden rush of worry, for her. It was so out of left field it left her mind silent. A miracle that had never been achieved before.

"They flipped her then?" Sam asked but Steve was already shaking his head.

"No." He was using his Captain's voice, the  one that demanded attention and Darcy could feel her eyes tear up outside of his mind, she didn't think she needed his support until she got it. She had been afraid he would look at her with eyes that were cold, that she would become his enemy. And deep down, to the squishy part of her that was forever vulnerable where this man was concerned, that part of her knew, if Steve had ever come to despise her, it was probably one of the only things left in this world that could tear her to shreds.

"I thought maybe at first she might have been, but that's not the guilt I recognized. It was self-loathing. I think Miss Lewis fought her way out of HYDRA, she probably killed the bastards that took her, and that's what's eating her up inside." Darcy felt that swirling black rage again, it almost swallowed her up with its ferocity. Steve was livid, and she got the suspicious feeling that if she left anyone of them alive, he'd finish what she had started.

"Why'd she run then?" Clint's wife, Laura, asked while rocking her child in her arms, Darcy felt a pang of envy as she looked on with Steve's gaze at the family, and she almost choked on her tongue when she sorted through the huge mass of emotions to fully realize that, that one had came from her. Well shit, that wasn't ever going to be thought of or repeated again.

"She was scared," Steve shrugged looking away from his teammates to the evening sky beyond them, "she just got out of an extreme situation, trust probably isn't her first priority right now."

Darcy felt searing pain hearing that word repeated again, and this time she knew that came purely from her own body. Her chest burnt with it and she needed out, she wanted to keel over and just breathe properly for the first time in three years, without fear of this curse she had robbing her of her own mind.

She just wanted this to end.

But no one was listening to her, they never  did.

“I think-" and Steve said this so softly that even in her head, she still struggled to hear him, and maybe she didn't want to, "I think I'm hurting her."

Darcy's link slammed closed and she took in deep gulps of fresh tasting oxygen, Helen was standing over her hands stretched as if to press down onto her chest.

"I'm fine." Darcy wheezed out, bending her head over her knees.

"Yeah and I'm not still mad about you shoving me." The small woman said with an arch of her eyebrow, but she still looked ready to give Darcy CPR.

"I'm sorry about that, I was a bit-" She searched for the right words to come to her, but her mind felt like sludge.

Helen helpfully filled in the blanks, "Crazy?" or not as helpful as she thought. But Darcy still snorted out a laugh. In another life, they might have have been great friends.

"I was going to say freaked out but yeah, that works."She laid back down on the bed when her words turned slurred, "Did you give me smumthing?"

"Yes. You were severely exhausted, frankly I don't even know how you were still standing." Darcy tried to say something back, about her award-winning stubbornness maybe? She also feels like she should be a little more freaked the fuck out by losing awarenesses, but she couldn't get all that worked up about it.

She felt way too groovy.

Darcy's going in and out of consciousness when she opens her eyes again to a clash of blue, so bright that she smiles at it like it's the sun itself. She remembers that blue, and it never failed to bring an ache of longing to her world.

She lets herself feel the safety in that gaze that looks so welcoming, she loves the warmth that spreads through her like a campfire and she wants to stay in this moment forever, she wants to keep that feeling close to her, so she never feels alone again. She even lets her fingers reach out to touch and when she collides with something warm, she instantly gets hit with a strong sense of what she always assumed home would feel like.

And for once Darcy sleeps without nightmares or a fear of what the next day will bring.

Apparently what it brings is one pissed of God of Thunder and a tiny astrophysicist that wants to defend her honor and say fuck a lot while she does it, so y'know, the days looking brighter than the last.

Silver linings and all that shit.

Soooo? I hope you enjoyed it! If not, thanks for sticking with me this far! Much Love guys!