#i only get to show off once a year (at least with the nerdy songs) so i've got to make it count D:

[l33tsaber]

Good golly gracious, it's two months to NebKon again already OAO

I don't remember how long I gave myself last year to learn Great Days phonetically, so I'm not sure whether I've left myself enough time to memorize something for this year (and I do mean memorize, because I hope to actually have my fursuit finished this time!) I might try for Heaven's Falling Down to keep up the JoJo motif, but in case I can't swing it in time, I should put a couple English songs in my back pocket.

I'm pretty solid on Live & Learn, but that's a pretty popular one, so if someone on the sign-up sheet ends up getting to it first, I wanna have a couple others down pat as well. If I stuck with the Sonic theme, I could do Knight of the Wind? I'd love to do With Me, but that one really needs to be a duet.

How much would people hate me if I did Birthday Train from Guilty Gear Xrd, d'you think? I'm told it's used as punishment BGM at tournaments for players who are late to their matches...

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for lieing to my mom for 6 years about a guy I dated?

🤐🇮🇪 <- so I notice me. This sounds bad but all things considered, i think I'm justified at least.

Tw for domestic abuse, physical abuse, fighting and non-explicit mentions of many other forms of abuse.

So in 7th grade grade I (12/13f at the time) was dating a guy named Jay(13/14m at the time)(not his real name and we were in the same grade) for about three months. I had a crush on him for years before we dated so I was ecstatic when he finally asked me out. Looking back now at 22, I can see he pitied me as i was very unpopular and no one wanted to be around me due to the fact I was very nerdy and very autisitc(I have a mental disability). He used me for sexual things and it wasn't super healthy but I was just happy to be getting attention as neither my school nor home life was safe from abuse/bullying.

Towards the end of those three months, an incident occured. Me and Jay were working on a mutural computer lab project that should of only tooken a week but the day we were set to start, jay had iss (in-school suspension. I don't know why). I needed his choice for a song because the project couldn't start without choosing it and he wasn't texting me and was being petty and whiny about it. Finally he picked some pop 2010s song and I got started. He was in the suspension for half the week so I was the one who did a majority of the project.

When he finally came back, he was being demanding and a jerk and I said fine, I'll do my own project and you can do yours, I wanted to do firework by katy perry anyway. He then demanded my part of the project since I wasn't doing that song anymore and I told him no and when he demanded it again, I deleted it infornt of him. Typical preteen arguments right? Well he slapped me. In front of all of his laughing friends. He'd never done that before and even though I had previous experience with physical abuse(a few instances with my dad but my mom didn't see it till much later after this incident. This is important.), never from a partner.

I don't remember too much as I saw red and reacted before I could think but I do remember ripping him out of his chair, throwing him on the floor and punching him in the chest and face a few times while his friends cheered me on in surprise. I was an average height but underweight and he was both taller than me and almost 300 lbs but it felt so easy. Once I was done I got up, told the teacher I was doing it on my own, aced the project while he failed and none of my bullies ever tried to physically fight me again. I went from nerdy shy weird pushover girl to scary strong weird girl and I'm ok with that. He hit first.

Even though we eventually broke up, we made up and it was something we joked about together as i didn't realize how serious that was at the time. But my mom did realize how serious it was and tried to explain to me how bad that was, that I should never let a partner hit me and she never wanted to see me talking to him again. She was being responsible but I was 13 and riding off the excitement of showing a guy I liked what for that we dated again not a month after we broke up. Except this time I wasn't dating Jay Lastname, I was dating "Sean mcduffin" or at least that's what i called him around family and because my mom never saw or met jay, she didnt recognize sean.

Our second time around only lasted another three months before we broke up and we're friends all through the rest of our school years, never more, but my mom still called him Sean because we'll.. I told her that was Sean and I couldn't back out now. I'm gonna shift gears for a second so stick with me.

I had gone through two extremely abusive relationships back to back from one in sophomore year (sexual and emotional abuse) and one in senior year (sexual, physical, religious and emotional abuse) and my mom didn't learn until a year later after I graduated. After my mom learned about it and the extent of the abuse with my father, she helped me heal and eventually started asking questions about the relationships and my dad and I answered her as were the closest weve ever been. She off handedly compared the one in senior year to the incident with Jay and then said how happy i seemed with Sean right after made her relax and hope i wouldnt be in another abusive relationship and it hadn't hurt me too badly.

I then realized I had never explicitly told her Jay and Sean were the same person and I had lied to her when I said they weren't (she had suspicions but never proof and trusted me). So I told her they were the same person and she got this very defeated look on her face. I apologized as I realized that was kinda shitty of me because my mom was just trying to protect me but I can also see why a 13 yr old who grew up in parental abuse wouldn't nessesarily take domestic abuse seriously. She just signed and said she wishes I was honest and I shouldn't of lied about it because it was serious. I explained my side but we eventually just moved on to talk further into our initial topic and she's not brought it up since.

I can see where I was the little 13 yr old asshole but I can also see why I wouldn't of taken the lie as seriously as I should due to my history. He never hit or hurt me again and I never heard of him doing it again so I guess i desuaded him from a life of abuse. Idk. Was I the asshole? Me and him don't talk anymore and since getting therapy, I've realized what a shitty person he was to me before, during and after our small relationship.

(small context: we were school friends only, he never really came over to my house or met my family more than once the second time we dated and I didn't talk about him as much after the second break up due to my focus on friends shifting from school friends to my girl scout troop. We were inseparable in school but outside of it, we rarely spoke.)

What are these acronyms?

[muselin]

SCREAMING TIME!!! This is an in-depth review of Phantom so don't read ahead if you don't want spoilers.

Okay, I have been slapped, SLAPPED I tell you. Yangyang ATE this, the charisma was just off the charts. His rap, his expressions, his tone, everything. Ten wasn't lying when he said Yangyang's personality is a little dark and I can see Yangyang literally transforming into this concept. Next, Xiaojun. Xiaojun in the skirt?? Fucking royal. Also, boy has been taking lessons from literally all the contemporary-influenced SM dancers because he's got so much more confident?? His gestures and lines are so much more flexible and elegant and literally blends in with Ten in some choreo scenes. Speaking of Ten, serving abs and being the only one flashing skin is such a Ten move, I guess he wanted to show off every last bit of work he poured in for Birthday. But Hendery. Hendery??? He fucking what??? He slapped me so hard in this, sometimes I don't find him believable but he really pulled out the acting chops and his rap alongside that had me drooling, he was so good. Finally, Kun and Winwin didn't wow me, but to be fair it was clear that this era they have not been drawn out as a focus which I think is a damn shame. They didn't get as many lines which is honestly a crime by this point, especially for Winwin because in many groups the visual doesn't get as many lines but makes up for it in screen time or a dance break, but Winwin had neither and I'm honestly thinking it's because of his schedules in China. He wasn't even there for the countdown live to release but at least he was able to dial in.

Getting down into the real nerdy details, having delved deeper into WayV I'm picking up something interesting. Other NCT units seems to get all the revolutionary things like insane choreo combos, musical concepts, video shooting techniques etc, while WayV seems to only get that once it's been tested elsewhere. I love WayV's music but the reason I prefer it over other NCT units is actually because it sounds closer to EXO-era music to me. It's more melodic and less "noise" which is just a personal preference, but I could see it sounding less modern to 4th gen stans who are used to more heavy noise music. It's also less experimental which could be both good and bad depending on your preference. I cannot listen to Cherry Bomb at all but I can't dent that it was revolutionary. C-pop or mando-pop does tend to carry a slight more old-fashioned sound that's a few years behind kpop and I think that comes across in WayV's repertoire since they do have a focus on the Chinese market. All of that probably sounds a little negative but it isn't at all, I promise, I'm building up to some good stuff.

So Phantom in this whole context, underneath the very 4th gen video filming techniques, actually sounds much more like SHINee's music to me than it does to any other NCT unit and draws the line distinguishing WayV from NCT even further. I don't think that's a bad thing whatsoever, concepts like this ruled in 2012-2016 and I loved them to death, bringing them back but in a more modernised way is so fresh now that it gets the biggest thumbs up from me. The intro of the song? BOMB. Instant hook, line and gasping for air. The different textures of rap, Xiaojun's high notes and the change-ups of video angles definitely made this feel very modern while still echoing what experimental tracks were like in the era I mentioned. All in all, this is an amazing lead track.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Doctor Agent Super Genius (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You’re in a band and you wrote a song about Spencer. 

Warnings: Language. 

Notes: Not me going from posting nothing for months to posting two fics in one day. Nope, I’d never do that. Also this is kinda a Dumbass!Reader x Spencer, but like not really. That’s how I started it but it didn’t really end like that so whatever. Fluff, as usual. Spencer blushes way more than any normal person.

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

You and Spencer couldn’t be more different.

Well, that’s not entirely true. You’re the same age, live in the same city. You both like reading and sci-fi. You both listen to a lot of music and love your jobs.

Of course, you can’t agree on any of those things. He reads classic novels in their original languages, and you read cheesy romance books. He likes Star Trek, you like Star Wars. He listens to classical music, and you listen to rock. He’s an FBI agent with multiple doctorates, and you’re a part time bartender/part time lead singer of a not-so-famous band who barely graduated high school. By all accounts, you two shouldn’t work. But somehow, despite all your differences, you’ve been dating for nearly a year now. 

Your relationship really couldn’t be stronger; you live together, you’ve met his mother, he’s met your parents- but there was still one line the two of you hadn’t crossed. Meeting his coworkers. You know that he’s told them he’s dating someone, after all, they’re profilers. They could tell he was with someone after your first date. But for some reason, Spencer was still hesitant to introduce them to you. You tried not to let your insecurities cloud your thoughts, but well, how could you not? Was he embarrassed by you? Did he think they’d judge you for your lack of education and career? Would he break up with you if they didn’t approve?

You’d brought up meeting his coworkers on multiple occasions, of course, but he always had a reason to put it off. 

“We’re all so busy, we’d probably get called off to a case before they even get to know you.” 

“They’re just gonna profile you, Y/N, trust me, you don’t want that.”

“It’s a team bonding thing, I don’t want you to feel left out. Next time?”

So, when you found out the entire BAU was getting a week off after almost non-stop cases for the past two months, you knew this was your chance. You didn’t care if they were going to judge you, or profile you, you wanted to get to know the people closest to Spencer. So, when Spencer came home that night, he was met with you, holding a flyer for your band’s next gig.

~~~

“What’s this?” He asked, taking off his bag and putting it on the ground next to the door. Normally, you’d scold him for that - “There’s a perfectly good hook right there, Spencer.” - but you let it slide this time. 

“Band’s doing a gig at the bar on Friday. And you have this week off, which means you get to come!” You handed him the flyer, and planted a kiss on his cheek as he answered.

“Of course, you know I never miss your-”

“And so can the rest of the BAU!” You cut him off with a sweet, and convincing smile on your face. 

“Honey…” He started, but you wouldn’t let him talk you out of it this time.

“C’mon Spence! We’ve been together for almost a year now! I want to get to know these people, they’re basically your family! What’s the harm in having them come to the bar?” You paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before your next words, “Do you really think they’ll hate me so much?”

“What?” Spencer was shocked you would even suggest that the BAU wouldn’t like you - how could they not love you? “No! They’ll love you!”

“Then why won’t you let me meet them?”

Now it was Spencer’s turn to share his insecurities. “W- I just...you and I are so different,” He started, before you scoffed.

“Yeah, no shit, Spence. Unless you have secret nipple piercings too.” You said sarcastically, enjoying the redness that covered Spencer’s cheeks at the mention of your piercings. 

“Anyways...you and I are really different, and they’ll point it out. And make fun of me. And..and probably make you realize that you could do better than nerdy old me.” Spencer let out a breath at his confession, feeling a weight leave his chest that he’d been carrying for months. 

“Are you insane? Spence, if anyone can do better it’s you!” Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but you kept talking, “I mean really Spencer, you’re a badass FBI agent! You’re a doctor! You’re a genius! Any girl would kill to have a guy like-” Spencer cut you off with an intense kiss. When he finally pulled away, just for a moment, he spoke quietly.

“So Friday, huh? You really wanna meet them?”

“Yes, you idiot. I really wanna meet them.”

~~~

When Friday came rolling around, you were both extremely excited and nervous. On one hand, you were meeting the BAU, who are practically Spencer’s family, and you knew their opinion of you could make or break your relationship. But, you’d written a song this week that you had yet to show Spencer, and you couldn’t wait for him to hear it at the gig. Again, you were nervous for him and the team to hear the song, but part of being a musician is being vulnerable.

You’d been rehearsing the song with your band all week - they were a little mad that you’d wanted to add a brand new song so last minute, but they all agreed it was good enough that it had to be on the setlist - so you hadn’t gotten to spend as much of Spencer’s week off with him as you’d have liked. Hopefully when he heard the song tonight, he’d forgive you for it. 

“Why can’t I go to your sound check again?” He asked you for the fifth time that day, as you were getting ready for your gig. Normally, you’d love to have Spencer at sound check, and he much preferred watching you perform when there wasn’t an obnoxious crowd surrounding him.

“I told you, I have a surprise for you during the show, and if you come to sound check-”

“It’ll be ruined, I know. I was just hoping you’d change your mind.” He pouted, making you almost regret saying no to him. Almost.

“Trust me babe, it’ll be worth it. Go to dinner with the team, and I’ll meet you all at the bar at 8.”

“Are you sure you want to meet them?”

“Yes, genius, I’m sure. 8 o’clock.”

“Okay, 8 o’clock.”

~~~

When you walked onto the small stage with the band, you could immediately spot Spencer and the BAU in the crowd. There was a decent turn out, but Spencer stood out like a sore thumb. At least, he always stood out to you. You gave him a smile and wink, before standing in front of the mic to introduce the band. 

The set started like normal, playing the songs Spencer knew by heart (of course, he only needed to hear the songs once to know them by heart, but it still made your heart soar when you saw him singing the lyrics in the crowd). You noticed the other members of the BAU enjoying the songs as well, which settled your nerves greatly. You saw who you could only assume to be Garcia and Morgan dancing provocatively together, the two other women - probably Prentiss and JJ - dancing modestly together, pausing to talk every now and then. You recognized Rossi from the back cover of his books, enjoying the music with a scotch and a slight bobbing of his head to the beat. The last person, from the process of elimination, Hotch, didn’t appear to be enjoying himself at first glance - but you could see a hint of a smile on his face as he lightly swayed to the music. 

When you got to the final song in your set, you were looking right at Spencer as you introduced the song. “So, this next song is gonna be the last of the night -” A roar of upset came from the crowd, causing you to laugh as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. “I know, I know, I’m not happy about it either guys. But, it is a brand new song, and the inspiration for it is right here in the room.” The crowd grew in excitement this time, looking around at each other as if they could figure out who the mystery muse was. Spencer already felt a blush growing on his cheeks as he realized what your surprise was going to be. “This song is called Doctor Agent Super Genius!” You said with a large smile on your face, as the guitarist began playing the beginning chords. 

Spencer’s blush was even more obvious now, especially since all his coworkers had looked away from the stage and towards him. He only shrugged in response, trying to show that he knew nothing about it. Before any of them could question him, you began to sing.

Most girls go for tall, dark, and handsome

But that’s not how I’d describe you

You’re a little scrawny,

Your hair is kinda funny,

And you’ve got enough brains for two

The music began to build, and you were looking right at Spencer as you sang.

You talk my ear off about random facts

That I don’t give a shit about, but, 

I’ll smile and nod

As you go on and on

Cause I want you to take me out

You laughed a little, then began playing your own guitar along with the lead guitarist before the chorus hit.

You see he’s got 

1 2 3!

PHDs, and he knows exactly what I’m thinkin’ just by lookin’ at me

He knows everything about everything

Especially what to do in between the sheets, hey!

As you played your guitar and did your best to interact with the crowd before the next verse hit, Spencer’s blush had hit an all time high. The team, clearly enjoying the suggestive lyrics and the way Spencer had reacted to them, were now all dancing. Well, except Hotch. He was just laughing at Spencer along with the team.

You claim that you don’t have luck with girls

But I don’t see how that’s true

Cause those ladies are insane if they don’t want an agent

Who’s as fucking cute as you

Yeah, you talk my ear off about random facts

That I don’t give a shit about, but

I’ll smile and nod, ask a question or two,

Cause I’m kind of in love with you

Once again, you played guitar as the crowd got ready to sing along, now familiar with the words to the chorus. Spencer wasn’t looking, but Garcia had pulled out her phone to catch his reaction. (She already had plans to play the video at your wedding one day)

You see he’s got 

1 2 3!

PHDs, and he knows exactly what I’m thinkin’ just by lookin’ at me

He knows everything about everything

Especially what to do in between the sheets

Because he’s got

1 2 3!

PHDs, so he shoulda known better than to be with someone like me

He’ll never forget a single moment of it

I just hope he won’t regret it…

Dear God, please don’t regret it!

Doctor Agent Super Genius,

It’s time to be an idiot and,

Fall in love with me

The lead guitarist had one last moment to shine as the song ended, and the crowd went wild before the band exited the stage. 

~~~

It had been 15 minutes since your show had ended, and you finally made your way out of the back. After a change of clothes, and a small pep talk from the drummer in your band, you spotted Spencer and the team at a table in the back. As you made your way over, you caught the eye of Penelope Garcia, who immediately stood up and pulled you into an unexpected hug.

“Y/N Y/L/N! I am so excited to finally meet you!” She said, letting you go for only a brief moment before pulling you into a chair between herself and your boyfriend. He only got to give you a brief hello before Penelope began introducing you to everyone. “This is Derek, Emily, JJ, Rossi, and Hotch. Oh! And I’m Penelope, your new best friend.” You laughed at her excitement, taking it all in stride.

“Hi everyone, I’m Y/N. I hope you liked the show!” At the mention of the show, Spencer’s cheeks, which had only just begun to resemble his normal skin tone, turned red again. 

“Oh trust me, Y/L/N, that was the best concert I’ve ever seen.” Derek said, laughing at Spencer’s reaction. 

“You did amazing, as always.” Spencer said, glaring at Derek briefly before planting a light kiss on your cheek. This time, it was your turn to have your cheeks heat up. 

“Please tell me you guys have a CD or something I can buy, I mean honestly, I’d be listening to your music even if it wasn’t for you dating the super genius.” Emily said, causing your face to light up.

“We don’t have any physical CDs yet, but all of our music is on itunes and spotify! We’re hoping to put together an album soon, once we record Doctor Agent Super Genius and a couple other songs we’ve written recently…” And you were off, talking about your music was always something you could do for hours. 

As you got to know the team, and they got to know you, Spencer realized how stupid it had been of him to put this off. Sure, you and Spencer were completely different, but you fit into his life perfectly. He could already tell the team loved you, and knew you’d be a part of all of their lives for years to come.

~~~

When you got home after a long night of talking at the bar, you were surprised to immediately be pulled into a kiss by your boyfriend. When he finally pulled away from you, your could only laugh before you spoke.

“What was that for?”

“Doctor Agent Super Genius.” Was his answer, before he pecked your lips one more time.

“Oh yeah? Did you like the song?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“I loved it. Although, you got something wrong.” You laughed lightly, expecting him to correct some grammar or fact from the song. “Falling in love with you wasn’t stupid. It’s the smartest thing I’ve ever done.” You beamed before kissing him this time, pouring all of your love into it as best you could.

“But you were right about me knowing everything. Especially in between the sheets. Care to let me prove it?” He said once you pulled away. 

You happily let him prove his genius all night.

~~~

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac @andreasworlsboring101 @rexorangecouny @rosyskies

[sgt-morgan]

Lucky Kentucky ch. 1

Chapter 2

Hello there, this is my new Rockstar!Bucky x Reader fic. It was heavily inspired by my love of seventies mega rockstars, Almost Famous, Classic Rock, and a little bit of personal whimsy. I hope you enjoy, and read responsibly.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ : cussing, sexy times, drugs, booze, smoking, objectification, fornication, liberation, and a litany of other sordid topics and traumas.

Your name didn’t matter, at least not so far as you could tell. They called you Kentucky, sometimes if they felt cheeky, Bluegrass. You liked it, the first band that gave you that name was some shitty college band out of Detroit. They were convinced they were gonna be the next Led Zepplin. They called it quits three years later, a good old fashioned Rock n’ Roll suicide, booze, women, and drugs. The finer things always gets the best amateurs. However, their lead singer had a way with words, he came up with the nickname. He also wrote a beautiful song about a girl named Kentucky, who he just couldn’t swing, some big named country superstar sang the song and the last you’d heard he had been writing for the best of the best since. This earned you your title, Lucky Kentucky. A bit on the nose for your taste, but it made perfect sense. You kept following the music, you went to a band in L.A., the day you left, they signed a record deal with Sony. The next was a little English girl and her backing band, her first tour of England with you landed her a tour of the US faster than they could say ‘Burbon.’

You are what is known in the music business as a road manager, so far as you could tell, this was the job you were born to do. You made schedules, you supplied booze and other artifacts, you got hotels, paid off paparazzi, packed busses, and shoved half out of their mind rock stars on to stages in more countries than you could count, you couldn’t imagine any better life. You were the best of the best, you were who the record company called when everyone else had given up. You were a fixer, and an incredibly talented one at that. You had a gift for taking a mediocre side show band, and turning them into headliners.

So when you got the call from Tony and Pepper that you had to fix The Howling Comandos, you were shocked. They were big time, nothing like your usual fixer upper opener that you could make insta stars. They certainly weren’t your crowd, but you always had a problem saying no to Pepper, Tony’s company manager. Tony was a talented mixer, and a gifted album technician. So when he started his own label, it blew up pretty quickly. The comandos were the first band he signed. They had won Album of the Year their first Grammy season without even batting an eyelash. So once business started booming, Pepper took over the paper work, and Tony did what he did best, Fucking around with a mixing board. You had met them when you started working with Natasha and the Widows, a Blondie style punk outfit. They had a pension for eating men alive. Eventually, it got in the way of their success, so you stepped in and saved the band from total destruction. You and the starks had been thick as theives since.

“Tony, you mean to tell me, that the Commandos, the biggest artists of the decade, need my help?” You scoffed down the line, checking the Widows out of the last hotel of their tour with Greta Van Fleet.

“Yes Bluegrass, I do. Barnes is going through some existential heart break shit ‘cause ole bitch called of the wedding, and fucked the Guitarist of their opener. He’s been all drugs, booze, and sappy shit since, and someone’s gotta get the mother fucker back on stage. I’m Loosing money here Kentucky, something’s gotta give.” Tony sounded livid, there were very few times where Tony was as frazzled as this, so you knew it was serious.

“Alright, but I have conditions.” You sighed, you thought you could hear the sound of Pepper weeping tears of joy, but you couldn’t be sure. “I want the Widows to open, I’m not done with them yet Stark they’ve got some potential that still needs to be tapped. I want Frankie on security, I want Wanda for wardrobe and makeup, I want Vision for my techie, and I’m taking Peter as my Head roadie.” It was a big ask, but if you were doing this, you were gonna need the best possible team.

“Jeez woman, rob the treasure chest would yah? You want all of them? You just asked me for the entire roster. They’re on other tours! I can’t just- HEY! Woman don’t you-“ you heard a slap and an ow, and suddenly you were with the one and only Pepper Potts- Stark.

“Kentucky? You have a deal. You can have the Allstars in three months, everyone’s tours should be wrapping up, that puts you just in time for festival season. You up to it?” Pepper sounded like someone had just kicked her puppy. So you knew, you were the only one that could save the day.

“Virginia? Count me in. Give me the three months to plan and connect with the team and I’ll make sure James Barnes makes it onto that bus.” You could practically taste her relief through the receiver. What had you just signed up for.

————————————————————————

You’d done it. Six months, 7 bus rentals, 75 hotels, 107 plane rides, 20 festivals, 95 shows, 89 cities, and roughly 200 people later, you had managed to construct the American leg of one of the biggest and longest tours you had ever seen. All it took was two months, and 23 bottles of Jack Daniels, and you had done it. Now all you had to do was meet the band, and have your first tour meeting.

You had never been so nervous to meet a group of men in your life. Normally, these meetings we’re pretty laid back and informal. Lots of getting to know you, and goofing off. This time, you were in charge of a multi-million dollar tour that could make or break the band of the decades d ruin your career. No pressure. Needless to say, you were fairly nervous.

You were relieved upon arrival that the first people to make it in were the people who seemed to be the most reliable. Vision and Wanda were quietly whispering  to eachother in the corner as always, their hands gently intertwined as they surveyed the rest of their new subjects. Frankie was standing off in another corner looking like an immovable brick wall. His sunglasses firmly in place on his nose, looking scary as always. Peter was off with the widows flirting with their drummer. You didn’t think it would end well, seeing as MJ was a bit of a hot head, and Peter was akward and nerdy, but to your surprise, they seemed to be getting along swimmingly. Natasha and Carol were staring at a book full of something, if you had to guess, it would be song lyrics of some variety, and to your shock and absolute awe, Peggy had saddled up to Steve Rogers. Steve was the guitarist of the Commandos, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. Tony and Pepper were chatting with Clint and Sam the drummer and bassist of the Commandos, and Bruce Banner, your newly appointed second hand. James Barnes was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, well, good to see that most of you have arrived early!” You smirked walking to the head of the table with your big box of tour folders, Peter moving instantly to help you. “If I have not yet made your acquaintance, I am Kentucky, just Kentucky, you may call me Bluegrass or Lucky, but I will always prefer Kentucky. It has come to my immediate attention, that you sorry suckers were in need of a fantastic road manager, and here I am.” You survey the room as you spoke taking into account every face that you could see in the room and making sure everyone was following. “Now, where is James?”

————Some unnamed bar across town ————

Bucky’s head pounded. Wether it was from the booze or the pounding music he had no clue, but he could tell that it was far too early to be in this booth.

“You really went for it last night Barnes,” Bucky looks for the source of the voice to find that, Luke Cage, owner of the best bar in LA, was unloading boxes of tequila into his storage cabinets under the bar. “You shouldn’t have either, you’re late for your tour meeting.”

Bucky absorbed the information, and felt it melt out of his brain as if it were nothing more than an irritating ear worm. “How do you know about that?” He sighed running a hand down his face and slowly standing to grab his leather jacket.

“It’s sharpied onto your arm,” Luke chuckled pointing to Bucky’s right arm in just about the only clean space someone could fine. “Steve came in and did it last night before giving about a hundred dollars to let you sleep it off in that booth.”

“Of course he did,” Bucky scoffed, “the punk never knew when to leave well enough alone.” Bucky quickly slipped his sunglasses over his aching eyes, as he watched Luke slide a cup of coffee across the bar. “Goodbye Luke, your bar is the only thing I’m gonna miss about this town.”

“Goodbye Bucky, the free live music, and the fantastic tips are all I’m going to miss about you boys. I’ll tell Jess you said hello.” And with that final fond farewell, Bucky left Luke’s bar for the last time before he was trapped in a tour bus for six months.

The drive to Stark Records was as second nature to him as tying his shoes. He easily glided in between cars, making record time to his place of employment. He parked his bike next to a slot that occupied the sweetest little red corvette he’s seen in a good while. The tune in the reference catches his brain and he starts to whistle the chorus, wishing the artist formerly known as Prince was still around. He walked past Sharon, the desk clerk, giving her his customary wink and a smirk, stealing a sucker out of her candy dish and wandering into the meeting.

That’s when he saw her, the hottest piece of ass this side of the sunset strip. She looked powerful, she looked commanding, she was covered in tattoos and wearing the best looking little black number. She was saying his name. “Where is James?”

“Right here sweet thing, I hope I’m not too late to the party, I’d hate to miss anything that came out of that pretty little mouth.” Boy was it pretty, the full lips covered in a red shade that he could only seem to imagine smeared all over her moth as she panted his name.

“Ah, yes there he is. Hello, James. Just in time to-”

“James is my dad sugar, I’m sure we can think of something a little more clever for you to-”

“Alright then Junior if you don’t mind, I’m trying to conduct a meeting, and I will not be letting a drunken moron interupt my carefully planned work flow.”

Bucky’s jaw snapped shut as the people around him, some friends and some strangers, laughed at the clever lady’s little barb.

“Alright then, as I was saying, I’m here to help. I believe in the Peter Grant method of representation. The you-have-a-venue-you-want-it-filled-I-have-just-the-band-sixty-forty method.” She said, flipping her hair into a simple bun on the top of her head, which Bucky couldn’t find more attractive if he tried, “I have made hotel arrangements for every show, I have made bus arrangements, I have planned for added shows, and delayed dates. I have brought you the best opener I have, the best artists, roadies, security, and technicians I could scrape together, and most importantly, I have given you my time and my trust. I can make your touring life as easy and as simple as humanly possible, or I could ruin it. However, all I want is to get you out there, grinding again, reminding your fans the reason they love you. All you have to do, is let me work, and focus on the music. Can we do that?”

“Doll? I like the way you think.”

“Junior? It’s gonna be a long fucking six months.”

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Teen Witch

Controversial opinion: stories about witches are the best stories. Just look at WandaVision - bitches ate that UP because it’s about WITCHES, which means it’s ultimately about loss and trauma and female (literal) empowerment in the face of those tragedies (and I mean there’s some complicated stuff in there about inflicting trauma upon others, even accidentally, and that’s kind of a witch thing too). And Sabrina is all well and good and everything, but what if you want your witch story to be a little less Dark Arts and a little more candy-coated? Have I got the film for you! Wes requested Teen Witch as part of his quest to expand my cheesy 80s cult classic knowledge, and boy did this one deliver. How 80s-tastic are we talking? Well...

The basic story is this: Louise (Robyn Lively) is a typical teen girl who occupies the nerd level of the high school hierarchy. You know the type - soft-spoken, nerdy best friend, has a crush on the cutest guy in school (Dan Gauthier), made fun of in gym class by all the cheerleaders. One day she crashes her bike in front of a psychic’s home/place of business and goes inside to use the phone, but gets her palm read first. The psychic, named Madame Serena, (Zelda Rubenstein, playing, I’m assuming, herself) tells her she will soon come into some witchy powers on her 16th birthday. When Louise’s birthday rolls around, you guessed it - witching aplenty. She gets the popularity, she gets the cute guy, she ditches her nerdy friend; it’s basically The Princess Diaries without Queen Julie Andrews. But then, y’know, she learns a valuable lesson about the high price of popularity and how important it is to be true to yourse--wait, no she doesn’t, she takes off her magic necklace and smooches with the boy she likes at the school dance and that’s how it ends.

Some thoughts:

This slow motion credit sequence is incredible. See, we just don’t have this anymore, where the movie starts and you have no fucking idea what’s going on. The 80s really knew how to draw an audience in. Is this a dream? Is this a music video? No one knows! That’s why it’s exciting!

Why are tv and movies so obsessed with a completely made-up depiction of what takes place outside a high school’s entrance before the first bell? Apparently there’s a busker festival going on at this high school every day - there’s guys doing BMX tricks, an all white rap group, I think I saw some jugglers.

I’ve actually taught in both middle and high school, so I know this English teacher (Shelley Berman) wouldn’t be fired for being such a shitty teacher, but he should be. 

Is this like...a musical? First there was the terrible rapping, now there are cheerleaders doing “the new cheer” which is literally a song just saying “I...LIKE...BOYS!” and there’s a dance routine on top of lockers - there’s a lot of towel choreography. It feels like a musical in the sense that it’s nonsensical, but I don’t actually think it IS a musical. Genre-defying!

It’s kinda creepy that Louise is watching an extended montage of Brad (Gauthier) working out shirtless from the shadows but like...same, girl. Damn, Brad.

Aw, at least Brad is reasonably nice. Louise, show some backbone! You shouldn’t have been too proud to let him drive you home after he ran you off the road on your bike accidentally!

I am just mystified by the market for roles that were appropriate for Zelda Rubenstein in the 80s. What is this niche? Which came first, Zelda Rubenstein, or these characters? 

I am also mystified by this gremliny little brother (Joshua John Miller) who seems to be obsessed with eating cake and never washing his hair. He’s like a goblin trapped in a diminutive nonbinary body made of pizza and spite. [ETA: I now feel a little bad for finding him so repellent in this, as the actor wrote one of my favorite meta horror movies, The Final Girls, in 2015. So at least he grew up and made something cool of himself.]

OMFG did Brad just hit the soda machine for her like the fucking Fonz? 

There is (temporarily) a Very Good Dog who is not harmed in any way.

In what universe does Louise see what her date, David (Jared Chandler), is wearing and be like “he’s such a geek” when she looks like an extra from Leave it to Beaver. 

The DJ just said “OK guys, grab your wallets, it’s a slow song.” What...does that even mean? Is he implying that slow dances are expensive? Ooh or even more nefarious, that there’s a rampant pickpocketing problem during slow dances?

Did Louise...just imply that the number of light years away a star is dictates how soon a wish you make on that star would come true? Listen. I’m no astrophysicist. But I have read enough Neil Degrasse Tyson tweets to know that that’s not how any of this works. 

OK I take back what I said, David is a fucking CREEP. Drag his ass, Louise. However, I think she may have straight up murdered him by making him disappear. David is never seen or heard from again in this film. 

Obsessed with the dad’s sweaters both because they are ridiculous and because he is the lesser Darren from the original Bewitched. 

It feels weird that Louise’s revenge involves forcing Mr. Weaver to take his clothes off in front of the class.Who wants that? Like I get that it’s humiliating for him, but really, you’re only punishing yourself here Louise. 

There is a rap-off that is meant to convey electric sexual tension between two nerdy ass white kids. 

I don’t know what it was like at your school, but I can tell you for sure that at my high school no one ever applauded when the most popular girl in school walked into the classroom like she’s Kramer making an entrance on Seinfeld.

Why is Brad taking her to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? And why is she wearing heels?

Oh god she took the heels off and now she’s barefoot in this decrepit house, that’s so much worse! TETANUS EXISTS LOUISE.

Wait are they going to fuck in the abandoned house? Brad has a girlfriend! You brought heels, but did you bring condoms?? I guess she has bigger concerns than tetanus now. Also I feel so bad for these actors, they are both DRIPPING sweat. That must have been a miserable shoot.

I’ve said this before, but the 80s were such an incredible time for himbo fashion. Crop tops, those tank tops with the giant holes for the arms, teeny little basketball shorts. In the 90s all we had were JNCOs and weirdly “urbanized” Looney Tunes characters on baggy t-shirts. Gen X has no idea how good they had it re: male fashion. 

I’m genuinely obsessed with the idea that popularity means the school just has banners all over that say “LOUISE” and she gets like, cards and fan mail that say “Louise U R the best.” This feels like if you ask a kindergartner what being popular means.

Madame Serena just said “the real magic is believing in yourself” which is exactly what Louise’s dad said like 15 minutes ago, but I guess he wasn’t a 3-foot-tall witch so no one paid attention when he said it. 

Y’know for an 80s prom outfit, Louise’s dress is pretty cute. 

I cannot stress enough that Brad’s girlfriend is at this dance while he and Louise are kissing! Does no one care? Were high school attitudes toward monogamy just way more flexible in the 80s? 

Did I Cry? Shyeah, right. 

This is such an odd, mostly charming, but wildly perplexing little movie. There was no antagonist or real conflict here, at all. Louise barely struggles with any sort of tension or remorse about having her powers and what it means for her life, she just kind of decides at the end that she’s over it, and she still gets the guy and no actual negative consequences from bending the entire school to her will for the past few months. I mean, in The Craft, when people use magic for their own gains, other people fucking DIE. I was definitely entertained, but a lot of it was due to me saying, “What? How? What?” loudly at the screen. I can see how this has gained a cult following in much the same way that other oddball 80s fare like Better Off Dead or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun did. Watch it once, then watch it again while you get drunk with your friends (in a post-Covid world, obviously) and you’ll probably have a pretty great time. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[soc-characters-as-songs]

Favorite part of the interviews and a song for all?

ivy: "*he keeps a small polite smile, silently gesturing to the refreshments available as he asks* how have you been finding angeles and the palace, ivy?

*/king doof-ael,/ the title her friend alba had dubbed him with, though she couldn't possibly off that as another name. even if it was interesting, it's only when raphael sits that she notices one of the imposing figures standing a ways behind him. /the divergent man/. seven. he was here? now???"

alaska ("and I walked off an old me/oh me, oh my I thought it was a dream/so it seemed/and now breathe deep, I'm inhaling/you and I, there's air in-between/leave me be, I'm exhaling/you and I, there's air in-between")

meredith: "*he keeps a smile at her* I believe I do prefer celebrations inside, though, knowing how hot it can get in the afternoon here in angeles.

*she feels a bit insensitive when he answers because it's such a huge "duh" moment and she kind of just didn't think about it before she made the comment about all the parties. but she can just add it to her mounting list of little mistakes. she grimaces and nods, murmuring* right, sorry, of course. *she shifts again, reminding herself that she needs to focus more* it's um... colder in northern angeles too. at least where I grew up *she breathes in a sigh because somehow she's turned this into a conversation about the weather, which she feels like is what you do when you're stuck in a waiting room with a stranger and even if that's what the interviews could be likened to she was hoping it wouldn't be like that. she squirms a bit more and honestly a bit of desperation is setting in and meredith unclasps her purse, finally looking down so she can see what she's doing. she hesitates a moment, then reaches a hand inside and pulls out an assorted bag of gummy bears, which she pilfered from the pantry the night before. she quickly closes the purse again, then her hands go to the bag as she opens it, the bag makes that loud plastic crinkly sound. meredith finally looks up at him again and gives him a weak smile, holding up the bag between them, with the opening facing his way* would you like some? *her eyes dart to sam and the cameras, then back to him* it has all the flavors, I think"

good as it gets ("just leave it up to me, to be sad in paradise/I got a good heart but f*ck it for the art/had a good life, I could never really see that/got so bad, lookin' for love in the trash/if I had it, I wouldn't know how to keep it/well, maybe i'm a mess/and maybe I'm depressed/and maybe I'll just find out who I am and I won't like who it is/and I'm a wreck"

diana: "*he shakes his head at her question, not dismissive at all but offering only this* I'm not the cooking or baking type. reading, you could say, is a hobby of mine - basic as it sounds. *he knows it's probably not enough as an answers so he also adds this* podcasts are a good alternative too if I'm moving around on vehicles *he leans back, putting his elbow on his arm rest as he thinks about the baking thing but wanting to confirm his guess he asks* if you don't mind me going back to the cupcakes, were they in celebration of something?

*she shakes her head when he calls his hobby basic* it's not basic at all. I love reading, honestly, it's a luxury to be able to pick up a book on any topic and learn about something new */especially when you never got a formal education past high school/. she thinks it but doesn't say it out loud*"

blind ("but you're a little like me, same type/cancels every date night/stays home, never leaves/just can't find the energy/I stay pretty numb/never fell for anyone/you seem similar/always end up getting hurt/I haven't felt a thing this year/and I'm only tryna be sincere")

dahlia: *elevator music*

alassie: "*he shakes his head at her question, unsure also of how she's approaching this either but he lifts a shoulder up* not exactly, since it was accidentally spilled on me. it's a shame, however, that I don't have the time to change until a few interviews after this. *he waits for her to take a seat properly, gesturing to the seat again* I do ask for your patience to look beyond that for the next five minutes of your time.

*she raises her eyebrows at his gestures, and settles a little more in her current position by crossing her legs. all his fuss over his jacket makes her want to roll her eyes, and she says sarcastically* I'm not sure I can. *she looks towards the camera crew, sounding more polite as she addresses them* can anyone bring us gin? and a dry cloth?"

entertainer ("you thought you had me, didn't you?/when you lied to my face, I could see the truth/every step of the way I knew/how you fooled me, boo/guess you didn’t know that/you were my favorite entertainer/I'd watch you, I'd laugh, I would fuck with you/don’t you take me for a fool/in this game, I own the rules")

ramona: "*he presses his lips together at her last statement, a wry smile on his lips* nothing that the palace laundry couldn't handle. though, it was my lucky shity that got stained.

*she quickly gives him a more sympathetic smile, replying in an almost joking tone* I hope that wasn't an omen for the rest of the day"

meet me at our spot ("i'm not getting younger/but when I'm older/I'll be so much stronger/I'll stay up for longer/meet me at our spot/caught a vibe/baby, are you coming for the ride?/I just wanna look into your eyes/I just wanna stay for the night, night, night")

rhea: "maybe you'll get to work into developing the shows themselves in the artistic team side now *he tilts his head* I'm sorry that you don't get to perform anymore.

*she waves the apology off* developing shows looks like fun - you get some more creativity. *this is what she had rehearsed for. random fact, something near embarrassing, to make her memorable - not something her mother ever said, but something guy of all people had suggested. she leans in with a sly smile* this sounds incredibly nerdy, but I- well, someone I know back home and I- started work on this musical about aliens"

honey ("'cause I'm a beautiful wreck/a colorful mess, but I'm funny/oh, I'm a heartbreak vet/with a stone-cold neck, yeah, I'm charmin'/all the pretty girls in the world/but I'm in this space with you/colored out the lines/I came to find, my fire was fate with you")

cornelia: "I still think invitations are a nice touch, if not the tiny umbrellas stuck on the cherries of the black forest cake. *he bobs his head at the mention of her friends, curious about them* did your friends get to send you off the other day?

*she chuckles because of his words* the tiny umbrellas /are/ a great detail. I didn't know those were something I needed in my life."

like real people do ("I knew that look dear/eyes always seeking/was there in someone/that dug long ago/so I will not ask you/why you were creeping/in some sad way I already know/I will not ask you where you came from/I will not ask you and neither would you")

kaden: "*he thanks her for the coffee, holding it with both of his hands for a bit to let it cool* my previous shirt and jacket have seen better days, and this is a new set of saucers and cups but thankfully not many other casualties *he shakes his head, lifting his mug up* I'd prefer to be drinking coffee or wine rather than have it accidentally on my shirt.

*she finishes to serve her own cup* a thrilling morning you're describing. *she looks up from under her lashes, still amused apparently* perhaps getting rid of the small talk would be for the best."

slow burn ("born in a hurry, always late/haven't been early since '88/texas is hot, I can be cold/grandma cried when I pierced my nose/good in a glass, good on green/good when you're puttin' your hands all over me/I'm alright with a slow burn/takin' my time, let the world turn/I'm gonna do it my way, it'll be alright")

andreia: "*should she look closely, there are coffee stains on the place setting of the coffee table while raffy is in a different shirt and jacket thanks to the wine incident earlier. around them, there are still cameras going off around them, documentation crew really going at it. still, raffy's standing tall with his hands clasped in front of him as she approaches, only offering her his hand when she's close enough to him so he can guide her to her seat. he tries to give her a small smile despite being tired* lady andreia, thank you so much for waiting. my name is raphael, it's a pleasure to meet you.

*being outside all day, with the sun being bright, has not been /ideal/ for andreia, but she's trying her best to ignore the budding headache. she takes his hand when she reaches him, but keeps her other hand in her pocket for the time being, and gives him a small smile in return* just andreia is fine. it's nice to meet you. *once the handshake is done, she takes the other hand out of her pocket, and smiles a little sheepishly before explaining* in iberia, it's rude to show up to someone's house without a gift to give the host *she holds out her hand and in it is a small origami corgi* I know it's not much, but... *she shrugs a little, still with the same sheepish smile*"

valerie ("well, sometimes I go out by myself/and I look across the water/snd I think of all the things of what you're doing/in my head I paint a picture/since I've come home/well, my body's been a mess/and I miss your ginger hair/and the way you like to dress/oh, won't you come on over?/stop making a fool out of me/why don't you come on over, valerie?")

arely: ??????????????

suzy: "*he waits for her to take a seat before taking his own, making a gesture for plato to follow like the besets boy he is and he stays by raffy's feet* he gets mad when he feels underdressed for an event. *he nods at her response to the food, understanding of her wanting to save space for dinner, but is very pleased to hear that she likes the food. he glances at the table, looking for his recommendation and gestures to a green tea bag* I believe some hot green tea would be nice before dinner. cleanses the palate too. *he tilts his head* any favorites from the selection of food earlier?

*she raises her eyebrows, surprised since she tried to dress up bom several times but she ultimately hated being dressed, even if it's a simple bow. she turns her attention to plato and looks down at him* a true gentlepup I see"

505 ("not shy of a spark/the knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark/frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark/the middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start")

[limerental]

limerental’s witcher fic masterlist

all of this can be found on my ao3 of the same name but is sometimes nice to have a list on tumblr as well I suppose

yennskier & ot3 fic

the poet’s wish - yennefer/jaskier - 100k, canon divergent, slow burn enemies to lovers mutual pining

The one where Jaskier has a near-death experience, makes a wish, and inexplicably has a lot of amazing but ill-advised sex in a crumbling manor house with a sexy but insane sorceress. And then, keeps on having it. It's almost as if the universe is drawing them ceaselessly back together or something. Which would all be very romantic if not for the fact that they viscerally hate one another. Until, of course, they don't.

lilacs and dandelions - jaskier/yennefer(/geralt), 46.8k, canon divergent, explicit

Geralt seeks out Yennefer only to find her, of all unbelievable and ridiculous things, shacking up with his bard.

other things i’ll never be - geralt/jaskier/yennefer, 23.9k, modern au, everyone is trans,

Yennefer renamed herself when she was fourteen.

Jaskier re-learned his own name and built himself from the ground up and then again and all over again.

Geralt denies and denies and denies.

how long we were fool’d - jaskier/yennefer, aromantic geralt, platonic found family, suburban neighbors au, 9.8k

Yennefer and Jaskier are the eclectic, married couple who have just moved in to an ordinary suburban neighborhood next door to hot, single dad Geralt and his young daughter, Ciri.

Geralt has no idea what to make of them. None at all.

i been in the valley - geralt/yennefer/jaskier, 9.5k, polyamorous triad equestrian au, explicit

Jaskier is the reckless sort of brave that thinks nothing of wearing white breeches on an impromptu trail ride, and Yennefer has clawed her way up from nothing to an esteemed training position at a sprawling equestrian complex. When a mysterious, decidedly attractive stranger with a knack for horsemanship and an unknown backstory arrives one day at the barn, neither is the type to just sit back and let the other seduce him. Competition is what they know best, and Geralt is first prize.

Or the equestrian witcher AU literally no one asked for but that we all deserve.

(don’t) poke the sleeping dragon - geralt/jaskier/yennefer, 7.5k yen drives a wizard van au, pwp/explicit, warnings for drug use & mildly dubious consent

A retelling of Bottled Appetites but everyone is really high at a nerdy music festival and Yennefer has a wizard van for no discernible reason and also Geralt gets pegged.

twas nothing at all - geralt/yennefer/jaskier, 6.1k, pwp/explicit

There once was a succubus, ugly and crass who cast a dark spell on one fine lad and lass But Geralt of Rivia, who saw them enthralled took a cock up his arse like twas nothing at all

lay these things bare - yennefer/jaskier - 4.5k

Jaskier comes to Yennefer to solve a pressing issue.

Yennefer can't help herself from having a bit of fun. Until it's not really all that fun anymore.

Aka Jaskier goes bald and Yen has a crisis and it's somehow very very tender idk

over the edge - jaskier/yennefer, 4.2k, pwp/explicit

Returning from an errand, Yennefer catches Jaskier fucking the innkeeper's wife in her bed. Of course, the only logical thing to do is to join them. It is her bed, after all.

said you’d never smile again - yennefer/jaskier, 2.2k

“If you should ever witness that smile turned your way,” Istredd says, cross-eyed with drunkenness, pointing a sharp finger into Jaskier’s chest. “You will feel like the luckiest man alive. I promise you this. You will be half-ruined for any other. You will wish you could inspire that smile a dozen times over and then some. That she would look at you like that until the end of your days.”

And Jaskier doesn't really get what he means. Until, he does.

you’re not a stranger - yennefer/dandelion, book fic, blood of elves au, 2.2k

Sharing a meal, Yennefer had told the poet ”I know you and like you”, and expressed that strange affection as a show of gratitude for keeping Geralt sane and whole on the Path, but that was not the extent of it, no, not by half.

She had grown fond of him, the utter ignoramus, and equal parts curious. Curious whether she could coax more verse from him on the topic of her power, her heart, her strength, her beauty, and curious also, if the swagger he walked with was well-deserved, if he was as well-endowed in terms of his… talent as he professed in song.

you can sharpen your knife - yennefer/jaskier - 1.8k, pwp/explicit

After an ambush reveals that Jaskier is plenty handy with his little dagger, Yennefer finds herself hot and bothered.

that medicine i need - jaskier & yennefer, 1.6k

A Jaskier who skirts the boundaries of gender helps Yennefer navigate some identity issues of her own.

geraskier fic

long on the road - geralt/jaskier, 80s trucker au, 14.9k, warnings for major character death & depiction of terminal illness/HIV/AIDS

Geralt is a long-haul trucker who has recently broken it off (again) with his ex-wife. Jaskier is a free spirit musician hitchhiking across the country while grappling with a sudden reminder of his mortality. Geralt really, really regrets  picking him up at the last rest area. Until, he doesn’t.

how light carries on - geralt/jaskier, geralt/regis, 9.6k, sequel to long on the road

Jaskier dies in 1990. Geralt lives.

the waters dark and deep - geralt/jaskier, 8.7k, warning for character death

Yennefer wonders if the Witcher bent first to will the ground warm and dry or if he hacked with furious, shuddering blows until the earth fractured and gave way to him. No matter, the grave carved out of the swell of the bluff bears the same dark weight in the end. A little body, withered in age, wrapped in a worn quilt from their bed and swept beneath the soil one broad stroke at a time.

Or, the one where Geralt goes with Jaskier to the coast and spends happily ever after farming by the sea.

you were always gold to me - geralt/jaskier, greenhouse owner!jaskier, ex con!geralt au, 6k, explicit

After spending ten years behind bars for getting caught up in the wrong crowd while trying his hardest to be a worthy father to his little daughter, Geralt takes up a job at a swanky garden center owned by the bubbly and charismatic man of many yellow flower names. They rest, they say, is just gravity.

denial’s not just a river - geralt/jaskier, 3.7k, pwp/explicit

prompt fill for an anon who asked for loss of control/loss of agency in relation to edging/orgasm control/premature ejaculation/omorashi aka it’s geralt piss fic, babes

to pull me from myself again - geralt/jaskier - 1.8k, role reversal, bard!geralt & witcher!jaskier

“You could be my barker!” the Witcher exclaimed in a fit of wide-armed inspiration on the brown road. “You sir, seem in want of a muse, and I am chock full of musings. Full to the brim.”

“Full of something,” said Geralt, hands tight on the strap of his lute case, and Jaskier barked out a surprised laugh. Or at least, Geralt thought it was a laugh.

It twisted gutturally in his throat.

other fic

hands on my waist, do it softly - geralt/jaskier/eskel - 6.7k, fem!jaskier/witchergender fem-bodied witchers, pwp/explicit

 She had thought their ilk did not usually travel in pairs, but there they were, two great, hulking shapes in the rough-hewn doorway of the tavern.

Or: fem!Jaskier gets sandwiched between two beefy lady Witchers

blood of the covenant, water of the womb - geralt & renfri, 2.7k, warnings for imagined rape/non-con, gore, body horror

“Spoken like the beast the world will believe you to be. But we both know you’re no beast, my dear. Simply a victim of circumstance, as I was. No beast at all.”

“Quit blabbering,” said Geralt. “Let me guess. Find a way to lift the curse, and you sway the masses in my favor.”

Stregobor’s pleasant smile deepened his rosy cheeks.

“No, no, I know how to end my affliction. Now that you are here, it will not be long.”

respite - yen/vesemir, 1.8k

Vesemir is old. Yennefer allows him small moments of rest.

swallow - geralt/yen, geralt & ciri - 1.3k, character study, gore

May he rot to make earth. May he nourish one small patch of soil, one tuft of grass. That’s where he’ll retire, in the gut of a carrion bird. Vulture shit. A fitting tribute. All the memorial he’s ever going to get.

[doomedandstoned]

Spelljammer Reveal Trippy New Vid, Talk ‘Abyssal Trip’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Interview by Billy Goate

Cover Art by Aaron Cahill

Our week of big interviews continues as we meet up with the ethereal doom outfit from Stockholm SPELLJAMMER and premiere a new music video, from their just released second LP, dropped only weeks ago on RidingEasy Records and now the number one album on the Doom Charts.

'Abyssal Trip' (2021) is an enthralling listen from edge to center, with lavish textures, deep thematic content, and unforgettably emotive atmosphere that will stick with you for life. Enjoy it as you read the revealing conversation with Niklas Olsson (guitar, vox) and Robert Sörling (guitar) that follows as we unpack their steller new spin, talk nerdy gear shit, and contemplate humanity's fate.

And now, Doomed & Stoned is pleased to bring you the world premiere of the brand new video for that epic third track, "Among The Holy."

Give ear...

Spelljammer - Among The Holy (music video)

You guys have been a band now for damn near 15 years, maybe longer. Most bands don't make it past two years! What is the "key" to the band staying together for so long and continuing to find inspiration for creating new music?

Rob: I don’t think it’s been 15 years just yet but we are getting there, haha. None the less - that’s a really interesting question! Nik and I started the band much because we share the same taste in music, film and, well, art in general. I think that's the core keeping it all together. Also, there have been a few constellations of band members over the years, all with their own dynamic. I think these kinds of changes, and the new directions of the music because of that, is part of the inspiration. Maybe another reason is that we all live in different cities and because of that sometimes a lot of time passes between rehearsals, writing sessions and such, making us always craving for new Spelljammer jams and songs.

Nik: The craving yes. And another reason I think is the fact that we’ve never really been in a rush to get anywhere. Anything Spelljammer, the music included, takes time. If we had been set on making it, this thing probably would have fallen apart a long time ago.

Abyssal Trip by Spelljammer

How did the theme for Abyssal Trip originate?

Nik: I have always been more drawn to the feelings or emotions you get from a riff or piece of music than to any theme of a lyric. But I would say that any themes came in at the lyrics state, which is at the end of the process. But the themes aren’t that specific to any of the albums. I think I cast a pretty wide net in the beginning and stuck to it. For the next album perhaps we will venture more into unchartered waters. We’ll see.

What fascinates you about the Great Abyss of the ocean?

Nik: I totally get that the word abyss conjures up images of ocean trenches and, yes, the ocean is a fascinating and to a large extent undiscovered place. However, when I wrote that I wasn’t necessarily thinking of the ocean but more the abyss of our own minds. But I think it’s a word that evokes many things, like despair and doom, and it is of course totally open to interpretation.

Is mankind doomed or do we have time to correct our course?

Nik: I’m not as pessimistic of a person as the lyrics may suggest. I think we will be here on earth for a long time. Mankind is clever (perhaps too clever for her own good) even if there are a lot of people hell-bent on trying to screw up everything for everybody else.

Rob: Yes, and considering how ignorant and careless (some) people are acting during this pandemic, at least over here, makes you wonder if there’s any hope at all.

Nik: People are the worst. Ultimately, though, none of it matters because we’re all doomed.

Have you guys seen any good movies/documentaries or read any good books lately that inspired you or otherwise challenged your thinking about life, the present, or the future?

Rob: I can’t say that I’ve seen or read anything recently that challenged me significantly, I guess I’m getting too old to be that overwhelmed haha. The film A Ghost Story though was kind of cool though because it was different, slow and weird (in a good way), and for me it’s always inspiring to read/see/hear something that makes you think, "Man, I wish I had come up with that idea”.

Nik: Absolutely! Punch Drunk Love, Moon, and Office Space are definitely movies like that. I have watched so many movies and series through this pandemic and I can’t remember any of them right now. But I did just notice that there is a season 3 of Loudermilk on HBO! If you haven’t already, see it! I’m currently reading "Homeward Bound, The Life of Paul Simon” by Peter Ames Carlin. It’s a good read about one of my favorite musicians.

For recording this album, what kind of gear did you use and what production/engineering considerations did you have to take into account?

Rob: Since we did a remote recording in the countryside we had to use whatever stuff that we could fit into a couple of cars. I have a couple of old audio interfaces that I linked for a total of 16 channels. I also have a small collection of mics (nothing fancy) and we used them all and the rest was borrowed. We set up the drums in the living room and put the guitar and bass rigs as far away as we could (the adjacent rooms) to avoid bleed and just focused on getting the rhythm tracks done. The goal was to get us all in the same room and to catch the vibe from a relaxed rehearsal kind of situation. The bass rig used was a Orange Terror Bass and an Ampeg SVT 810 and the guitar was tracked through a Reval Mark I and/or Orange TH-100 and a Orange PPC 412. Of course there’s always some unforeseen problem lurking and this time it was the electricity in the old country house.

Nik: I don’t use many effects, just a fuzz. For this one I used a Supercollider from Earthbound Audio. It is exactly what the name suggests. That’s all you need really.

The album cover is amazing! It reminds me, in some strange way, of the creature in the old B-movie Robot Monster (1953). What's the story behind the artwork?

Nik: It definitely has a B-movie vibe that I really like. I’m afraid I can’t really tell you much about it other than the artist name is Aaron Cahill and you can find his stuff on Instagram under the name nghbrs.

I filmed your first US appearance at Psycho Las Vegas in 2016. Fans want to know: do you have ambitions of returning to North America once the world sorts out this pandemic?

Rob: Yes, that’s our first and only US appearance so far and we wouldn’t mind at all returning to Vegas or any other part of the US. For now it’s really hard making any plans at all. In fact, you would think that this kind of isolation would enhance creativity, and maybe for some it does, but for us it’s actually been the most unproductive period so far for Spelljammer. So I’m hoping that by the time this thing blows over we get the inspiration back both for writing/recording new music, and in time hopefully revisiting the US!

Nik: I agree, playing at Psycho Las Vegas was a blast. I hope we get another opportunity to come back some day.

Spelljammer at Psycho Las Vegas/a>

Some Buzz

“The vastness of everything is something that I think about a lot,” says Spelljammer bassist/vocalist Niklas Olsson. And it certainly shows in both the expansive, sludgy sounds and contemplative lyrics of the Stockholm, Sweden based trio. Following a 5-year break between their previous album, Ancient of Days — perhaps fittingly spent pondering said vastness — Spelljammer is back with an album that perfectly bridges the band’s earlier desert rock leanings and their later massive, slow-burning riffs.

'Abyssal Trip' (note: carefully reread that album title) takes its moniker from the perpetually dark, cold, oxygen-free zone at the bottom of the ocean. The 6-song, 44-minute album fittingly embodies that bleak realm with rumbling, oozing guitars intercut with dramatic melodic interludes. The songs take their time to unfurl, making them even more hypnotic. Likewise, the lyrics take a poetic approach to establishing the sonic scenery.

“The lyrical themes we address, like the ultimate doom of man, and the search and longing for new and better worlds, are still there,” Olsson says. “The concept of something undiscovered out there in vast emptiness is pretty much always present.”

The recording process for Abyssal Trip differs from previous releases in that the band — guitarist Robert Sörling, drummer Jonatan Rimsbo and Olsson — opted to capture the performances while holed up in the mental bathysphere of a house in the countryside near Stockholm. “The songs benefitted from the relaxed environment of being away from everything,” Olsson explains. Indeed, the album sounds confident and meticulously arranged, afforded by the band’s isolation. Sörling mixed the album and it was mastered by Monolord drummer Esben Willems at Berserk Audio.

Album opener “Bellwether” begins dramatically with a very slow, nearly minute-long fade in of rumbling distortion setting the stage for heavily distorted bass and guitar plucking out the lugubrious riff for another minute and a half before the drums begin, and likewise equally as long before vocals gurgle to the surface. “Lake” abruptly shifts gears, opening with an unusually fast gallop before rupturing into thundering doom that soon drops into a clean-tone Middle Eastern melodic breakdown.

The title track serves as the album centerpiece, opening with ominous film dialogue about blood sacrifice that launches into pummeling, detuned guitars rumbling over gut-punching drums and howling vocals hearkening to the proto-sludge of Pink Floyd’s “The Nile Song.” The dynamic relents briefly for a slow building clean guitar melody before all instruments lock into a jerking riff topped off by a trilling Iommi style lead. Throughout, Abyssal Trip is, just like its title suggests, an epic tour through desolate zones which yields much to discover.

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[science-lings]

Hey I saw you were asking for prompts/AUs, so I thought I'd send one in! Could you write an Irondad Foster Kid Peter and Foster Parent Tony AU? Lots of hurt/comfort or fluff?

There were few things that motivated Tony more than the need to become better. Better than he was, better than he was treated, good enough to deserve the praise that he was given so freely. Normally he wouldn’t even consider becoming a father. He felt as though he was doomed to repeat his own father’s sins. His heart always sunk when someone told him how similar he was to his late father. There was no one he hated being compared to more. Well, that wasn’t quite true, he also hated being compared to Captain America when he was a kid. Still, Tony’s father wasn’t exactly his hero. 

It started when he began to visit orphanages when he couldn’t sleep, restricting himself to rocking babies, and occasionally when he was left alone with them, he sang lullabies. He liked the feeling of helping someone, a very small someone who didn’t know who he was or that he was important. He liked it when they fell asleep in his arms. 

That expanded to him telling stories to older kids on days that he had time. He found himself buying hundreds of picture books to read to them, starting out slightly awkward and flippant but turning more animated and dramatic as he discovered which voices made the kids laugh. 

When he ran out of books to read and songs to sing, he created his own. Making up stories of heroes and bad guys, the kids loved those ones. Full of epic battles and cameos from the other avengers, when he wanted to switch it up he told the stories in different settings. He portrayed himself as a golden king with a dragon, fighting monsters with his knight friends for his kingdom, as a zombie killing ninja trying to find a cure for the zombie plague, and when requested, he was a Jedi knight fighting Darth Vader. 

Sometimes the kids asked dumb questions about the story, and sometimes they’d ask very smart questions phrased only in the strange way that only a child can. 

Over the years, Tony got closer to the kids, but one in particular really piqued his interest. The boy was one of the oldest there, almost fourteen. He was very quiet and almost crazy smart. Tony didn’t know how smart a junior high student was supposed to be but it was nowhere near this kid was. He loved science books and any high tech Tony brought near him. There were almost visible stars in his eyes when he got to see the Iron Man suit up close. 

Tony never wanted to be a father but this nerdy kid, Peter, was really tugging at his heartstrings in a way that he had never really experienced. Not many kids could sit through his purposefully complicated explanation of the arc reactor but Peter did so with such enthusiasm that he couldn’t help but dig the old one out of storage to show it off. 

He learned about Peter, that his parents died when he was six and he was taken in by his uncle and aunt, who also died a few years after. That he used to wear glasses but had grown out of them, that he had always wanted to be a hero like Iron Man. Tony made sure to mention to the kid that being a hero is not as great as it looks on TV and Peter just looked at him and whispered that he knew. Tony had a weird feeling when he said that. It was too understanding.

Pepper had suggested it, after hearing him talk about the kid for weeks and seeing him look pensive at the sight of alcohol and become more responsible instead of pretending to be a larger than life celebrity that the world saw him as. She could tell that he was ready. 

It took a lot of paperwork and time but eventually Tony was able to become a foster parent for Peter. Tony wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to go as far as to adopt the kid, he knew that there would be someone better for him out there that knew more about actual parenting but at least he was extremely well off and had the stability that would be very helpful for a genius child. The closest he had to a parenting guide was a mental list of Howard's behaviors and a promise to himself that he would do the exact opposite. 

The adjustment period was weird, neither of them really knew how to act but after enough movie nights and long periods of time in Tony’s lab, they got used to their new normal. They just fit together like perfectly placed gears, they understood each other so well. Sure, Tony wasn’t the perfect dad-figure, but he tried so hard and cared so much. He did his best and he truly knew Peter like he was his own kid. 

This was why he knew exactly when something was wrong. Peter came home bruised, he would try to start a conversation as if it were something important then chicken out after bringing it up. He would sneak into the lab when he knew Tony was busy and spend whole afternoons after school “with friends” even though Tony was fully aware that there was only one of those. 

At first Tony thought that Peter was getting bullied. But the pieces didn’t quite fit, so he decided to confront Peter about it. 

It was late, Peter had tried to hide a limp when he got to the penthouse like he had twisted his ankle and was treating it as gently as possible. Tony was waiting for him. Peter looked at him nervously before trying to shuffle to his room. 

“You know kid, I’m trying to give you your privacy and all but I’m really starting to get worried about you.” Tony held out Twix bar like an olive branch. An offering of sorts. 

“I’m fine... is this about P.E.? You know I’m trying to get my grade up...” Peter took the candy bar and sat down carefully next to his foster father, still trying to hide whatever was hurting him. 

“No, no. I’m not worried about school for you, You’re probably as smart as I was at your age and you actually care about your education. No, I’m worried about you. I want to know what’s going on with you. Are you being bullied? Is someone hurting you? Did you try to kick a steel pillar? What?” Peter seemed to go a little pale and he was quiet for a minute. Tony just waited for any sort of reply. 

“I uh...” Peter started after a long pause, “Can you promise that you won’t be mad.” Tony thought for a moment of his own father's outbursts of rage when he wasn’t perfect when he didn’t live up to Howard's astronomical expectations. 

“I don’t think I could ever truly be mad at you Pete. You could probably kill someone and I trust you enough to realize that they deserved it somehow and take you to therapy or something. Being angry never really helps anyone, I mean aside from Bruce Banner, he has some benefits from being angry once in a while.” He saw Peter sigh in relief. 

“I... I’ve been lying to you. I’m not who you think I am.” He said quietly. 

“What, are you like a jock or something. Do you play basketball and want to audition for a musical? I think you would be pretty good in a musical.” This caused Peter to crack a little smile but normally he would laugh at a joke like that. Tony realized that this might actually be serious. 

“No, I’m not Troy Bolton, I... something happened to me a while ago. I know it sounds crazy but I-got-superpowers-from a-radioactive-spider-and-I-kinda-became-a-small-time-vigilante-that-thwarts-like-bank-thieves-and-creepy-dudes-that-stalk-women.” He said the last part quickly like if he said it fast enough Tony wouldn’t completely process the information or not hear it completely. Tony did in fact hear all of the information. 

“You know... that’s not what I thought you’d say but I’d be lying if I said that I was completely surprised by the fact that when you gained superpowers you immediately turned to helping people,” Tony said after a few seconds of processing what had been revealed. “I do think you need to reevaluate my standards for crazy because I work with spies and a Norse god and a guy that survived being frozen and patriotic for seventy years and that isn’t even it. Out of weirdness standards, spider super-kids are not even in the top five. I mean we had an alien invasion not too long ago this world is full of weird shit. Don’t tell Pepper that I said a bad word in front of you...” 

“Yeah and I think I broke my leg.”

“WHAT!” 

[purplesurveys]

1221

Are you mad at your best friend right now? I have absolutely no reason to be angry with Angela now and certainly not since our last petty childhood fight in like, 2009.

Do you know anybody with a pet snake? I used to know somebody, but she’s since gone off the radar and idek if her pet snake would still be alive at this point.

Do you buy your underwear in a pack or seperately? I can go either way.

Have you ever made fun of anybody and later became their friend? OMG yesss this was the entire background of my friendship with Sofie. Though I wouldn’t say I made fun of her...I just found her really annoying at first, and quite ditzy, too. Then something just clicked and worked out along the way and we ended up being best friends for quite some time until we went our separate ways shortly after college life started.

Is the lamp on in the room you're in? Yes; it’s one of my favorite pieces in my room.

Do you have a pair of shoes that you can only wear with one or two outfits? Nah, not really. I mostly own sneakers, which can go with most things casual.

Is there any drink that you absolutely MUST drink cold? Most drinks, honestly; but mainly, I like my coffee and water cold.

Did you sleep in past noon today? I don’t think I’ve ever done that. The latest I’ve woken up is probably a little over 10.

Did your grandma ever tell you about her love life? Neither of them have.

Have you ever painted anybody's nails aside from your own? Possibly, but I no longer recall it.

Anything exciting happening in the month of September? I don’t think so. There are couple of birthdays in the family, but we don’t have plans for those days yet.

Who is your last missed call from? Some media or blogger I ignored because I don’t take calls.

When was the last time you ate Frosted Flakes? I can’t remember...I don’t really eat cereal.

Did you ever NOT want a substitute in a certain class? Yeah, for classes I hated, like math.

Do you ever donate to the less fortunate? Not regularly. When a homeless person or street child knocks on my car while waiting in traffic I do try to give them some money and/or snack, if I have one in my bag.

Did you buy an American flag after 9/11 to put on your car/house/ whatever? I was barely conscious in 2001. I am also not American.

Do you know any songs that are older than you are? ...Many?

Are there framed pictures of you anywhere in your house? Yeah we have some framed photos going up the staircase. I also have my Prep graduation portrait up in my room.

Compared to other people of your age would you be considered 'NORMAL'? Ugh.

Honestly, do you have any Hilary Duff on your MP3 player? I don’t have an MP3 player but I don’t think I ever had Hilary Duff on any of my music players.

Who is worst in your family about calling people back? Probably Nina as she hates making calls to begin with.

Do you like peanut M&M's? Nah, I hate nuts in my chocolate.

When was the last time you had an ice cream sandwich? Safe to say well over a year ago. It’s not my snack of choice haha I never understood why I had to bite into my ice cream.

When was the last time you ate jelly beans? August 2019.

When was the last time you had hot chocolate? Around a month ago, I’d say? My mom fixes me a mug of hot choco every once in a while.

Have you ever caught a friend cheating on their bf/gf? I haven’t.

What was the last song stuck in your head? I think it had been Rain by BTS.

Do you enjoy doing math? If I know how the math works and have the formulas memorized, I can definitely find it fun. Math had actually been pretty manageable for me in school, at least right until we reached trig and calc which were just bleck.

Do you think your mom has secrets she’s never told you? Oh without a doubt. I’m 200% sure everyone in the family has secrets we never share; we’re not open with each other.

Do you own anything you don’t want your parents to know about? Yes.

Do you pose in your pictures or just smile? I will pose if I’m comfortable but most of the time I just smile.

Are there any colors you will NOT wear? I avoid orange as much as possible.

Do you use scented soap in the shower? Nah, just a normal-scented one.

Did you ever want to be a fashion designer? That was never part of my plans, no. 

Who was the last person you danced with? Enjoyable? Angela and Hans. I was drunk, so yes I had fun lol.

Do you like convertibles? I don’t really care for them, or for cars in general.

Have you ever yelled at the television? So many times, usually when a favorite singer or band is performing OR when I’m watching a really intense sports game - usually basketball or wrestling.

How many songs on your MP3 player are about sex? -

Do you like water parks? I think they are nasty for the most part.

Dark or light colored jeans? Light.

Can you take apart a computer and name all the parts? Nope.

Can you take apart a car and name all the parts? Even more so no.

Would your friends describe you as nerdy? I don’t think they would.

How many different colors are you wearing right now? Five.

Have you ever purchased a lotto ticket? Nope.

--

Are you double-jointed anywhere? I am not.

What is the longest amount of time you've spent playing Monopoly? You know, I’ve never even understood the rules of Monopoly...I’ve never bothered to play a round of it. Board games are usually too complicated for me lol.

Have you ever witnessed a tornado first-hand? Not a tornado, no. But I’ve experienced countless hurricanes and floods.

Did you play in the sand box as a kid? It was my favorite part of the playground and I was always exclusively found in a sandbox. I liked the texture (still do) + no one was ever there, so as a shy kid it worked out perfectly for me.

How about on the monkey bars? I tried it every now and then but I wasn’t a very active kid, so my arms would feel strained fairly quickly. It was never the first thing I’d run to whenever I got to go to the playground.

Have you ever made an alarm go off? I don’t think so.

Have you ever colored your eyebrows? Nope.

Did you ever own a pop-up book? Many of them, as a kid.

Have you ever honked at a biker? Yes but only whenever they swerve a little bit and are about to hit my car.

Have you ever taken another person's prescribed medication? No?

Have you ever played golf (not miniature golf)? No, I’ve played neither version. The sport doesn’t interest me.

Do you use gel in your hair? Only for formal events where I can’t afford to show up with my hair all frizzy.

Do you own a garden gnome? We don’t.

Are any of the rooms in your house painted blue? Nope, they’re all white. My parents’ room used to be green (came with the house), but it looked gross so it didn’t take long before they hired someone to paint the walls white.

Do you kick off your shoes as soon as you walk in the door? Yes. Actually, since the start of COVID, we’ve taken to removing our shoes even before we enter. We have a mat right by the front door where we can properly take off our shoes and head inside already barefoot.

Have you ever judged a book by its cover? Sometimes, but I don’t let it linger.

What is the most effective device at the gym? I don’t go to the gym.

Can you drive a stick shift? Hahahaha no, and I’m not so sure I’m ever willing to learn.

Have you ever picked on a substitute teacher? That’s mean and no, I haven’t.

How good are you at giving directions? Terrible. As much as possible I don’t do it and just refer the person asking to my nearest friend/companion.

When was the last time you looked out the window nearest you? Just a few minutes ago, actually. I put an arm out to check if it’s chilly outside since it rained all day today.

Have you ever got dressed with the windows open? Never. I make sure to pull down my blinds every time.

Have you ever given a foot massage? No.

Do public restrooms freak you out? They don’t freak me out per se but like I rarely go into them and use them, even before Covid. The idea of sharing a toilet with strangers is super gross lol and many of them don’t even put away their trash properly.

Have you ever taken a shower outside? I may have, but nothing sticks out.

Have you ever been to a junkyard? I don’t think so.

What do you think of Brad Pitt? I don’t really have an opinion...I loved his episode on Friends, but that’s it.

Have you ever watched the History Channel willingly? Yes, a few times.

Have you ever used pennies to pay for something that cost over 50 cents? I don’t speak US currency, but yeah there’ve been around 1-2 times I had to pay for something worth P50 with just coins. It’s always been embarrassing lol so I try to avoid it and be prepared with paper bills as much as I can.

If a place makes you pay for delivery - do you still tip the driver? Yes.

Without the aid of a cell phone - do you know your parents numbers by heart? Just my mom’s. Since my dad is always in and out of the country (at least until the pandemic), I’ve never gotten to memorize his number.

Can you name 10 former presidents? Arroyo, Macapagal, Aquino, another Aquino, Estrada, Ramos, Magsaysay, Quirino, Quezon, Roxas.

But if we’re talking about US presidents...Obama, Trump, Clinton, Roosevelt, another Roosevelt I believe, Nixon, Reagan, Carter, Lincoln, Washington. I hope I got them right hahaha.

Have you ever bought a gift for a teacher? Just as a kid.

Is your bedroom carpeted? Nope.

Right now, what color is your tongue? Pink.

When was the last time you had a Tootsie Pop? Years ago. I don’t have it a lot.

If you could get the cell phone of your choice - what would it be? iPhone 12 Pro Max.

Who is your favorite super hero? I don’t have any.

How about your favorite villain? I don’t really have any, either.

Do you know anybody who works at a bank? Possibly, but I can’t place a name right now.

What do you usually order from your favorite fast food place? That would be KFC, and I usually order either their Zinger or Twister. FUCK now I want to get KFC :((

Do you hand out candy to kids on Halloween? No, because none of them ever reach this part of the village. We never have to prepare any candy lol.

What perfume/cologne do you wear the most? Heat Rush.

Can you name all 7 dwarfs? I always miss out on one or two.

Does the early bird really catch the worm? Idk what this expression is.

[litt1edeath]

Surprises At DisneyLand

Y’all in for a treat with this one was requested by @havenoffandoms and i was so excited to do this one aaaaa seriously tho someone let me know if i’m doing this headcanons thing right?? 😅 also sorry for it being so long for me to update i went on a bit of a hiatus 💀⚰️ i’m back now... hopefully

henry had been the one to ask you out of course, you were friends for a couple months

naturally you’d remained far too shy and intimidated by his presence. even though all the skinship and open desire to be around each other was a tale tell sign to everyone around you.

yet you still made no move to further your relationship. so he did.

he was overwhelming in the best ways possible. the kind that makes your throat dry, and butterflies in the pits of your stomach.

now flash forward to present day- you’ve been together for a total of 6 years.

seen the good, bad, ugly and very beautiful parts of each other. worked through every possible struggle hand in hand.

went to every baby shower, baby reveals, weddings, anniversary parties, birthday’s, holiday gatherings, anything your friends or family threw.

as well as your own extra curricular activities and events that you both enjoyed yourself.

being the poster couple, it was inevitable that when you reached the three year mark everyone began to ask when will you tie the knot?

being how it was rare henry had lasted in a relationship so long, they all believed you to be the one. he never smiled more brighter.

however it was all avoidance, at least you assumed that. maybe henry was getting nervous or shy now. which wasn’t like him at all. was he unsure of himself? of this relationship?

now your anniversary was today, celebrating 7 yrs of your happy relationship. the surprise was henry had was the place you would be going to.

everything was nerve wrecking, picking the perfect outfit. he adored how nerdy you were about these things.

putting on a ‘he’s my mickey’ top with jeans that were high waisted and hugged all the right places. finished with high top converses and one of henry’s hoodies.

the drive there you had to be blind folded, butterflies stronger than ever as you grow nervous and excited in one.

of course being the excellent boyfriend as well as lover, henry was. he holds one of your hands. fingers intertwined as he rubs across your knuckles in time with the song on the radio.

you bob your head with the melody, turning to give him a knowing smile though you can’t see his reaction. you hear him, that deep, sweet, darling chuckle he does when he’s amused.

and in a way it makes you more excited- or nervous you can’t tell them apart anymore.

when the blind fold comes off you need a moment to adjust to the sunlight.

as the sign in front of your car comes to view, your mouth drops open like the pikachu meme.

only to be replaced with an ear shrieking squeal.

henry full on laughs at you bouncing in your seat, more so when you take your seat belt off to lung into his arms unannounced.

one hand sinks into your locks to cup the back of your hair and the other around your waist keeping your against him but never to dig into the gear shift uncomfortable.

he really was too observant. careful with you. it made loving him all the sweeter.

“i didn’t even know this is where we were going! my top i chose to wear is coincidental!”

“well we’re matching.” was his comforting words back to yours.

the car is parked, you both show the tickets and are given a wristband that you’ll have photos of to remember the day.

as soon as you step through the turn stiles, you draw attention. not you per say but Henry given a few of them do a double take.

one of the workers asks to take your photo, being pulled closer to Henry at the waist your smile facing forward.

next photo is of you two kissing of course, though you rarely take pics like that. so it has sentimental value.

with a bonus of said boyfriend pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes closed and your hands tightly held in his. you however are looking up at him in the snap shot.

the day is spent riding plenty of rides, buying the pictures at the end you like most. especially splash mountain, you’re both soaked and laughing helplessly at one another’s dismay. even more so at your faces in the pic.

all the little goofing around is settled down when his hands cup both your cheeks, moves the little whisks of hair away that curl from being wet. your hands cover his as he kisses you with all the passion in the world.

when you reach the star wars area he chuckles at your nerdy (this is more my preference bc i’m a dork- if you aren’t a sw’s fan ignore this one hehe)

kylo ren’s costume actors in the park goes to kneel before you, and you gasps everyone looking over with awe. only for henry to appear circling his hands around your waist.

“sorry this ones taken.” he cool replies and so kylo nods standing up. his hand tilting your chin but you play tough unfazed as he walks away.

the rest of the day is you running around like a child too excited to hide it anymore. henry following with happiness, he posts a few videos and pics of your day to instagram. that everyone goes nuts for.

there in the square is where your heart stops. you think you’ve lost henry, anxiety pumping being in a crowded amusement park.

just as the tears build up in your eyes, you see a group of your closest friends appear with Henners at the front of them.

your favourite song you play for him called “Yellow Hearts” by Ant Saunders is on the speakers as your friends run by throwing flowers all around you two.

you cover your mouth, a new form of tears well up as he’s before you. doing the most surprising thing ever your breath hitches.

he goddamn kneeled before you.

cameras are snapping shots or recording.

henry pulls a royal blue small box from his coat pocket. the inside part- something you should’ve felt when your hands were tucked into his pockets. you had a habit of hugging him from behind even if he’s larger than you- yet didn’t feel the box. not once.

he flips it open and inside is a beautiful silver band a sunflower on it with a jewel in the middle shimmering under the setting sun.

“will you y/n. do me the absolute honors of spending the rest of our lives together. and being my wife? because i love you- don’t think i’ve ever loved someone as much as i do you.” theres a chorus of awe’s.

swiping the back of your hand over your face, you sniffle. inhaling a deep breath to steady your emotions so you could talk. you kneel down, being shorter than him once again.

there you search those beautiful eyes, cupping his cheek you scratch at the light stubble. going up onto your knees to kiss him. there you give your confirmation upon his lips, “Yes- a thousand yes’s!”

henry swoops you up into his arms twirling you around as he hugs you close. you knew he wasn’t a public man so doing this was a big deal. for both of you.

once you’re set down he slides the ring onto your ring finger. it feels snuggly, you’re enthralled with it. how it feels, to actually be in this position you never dreamed would ever happen.

just before the parks closing you go to see the fireworks- he records your excitement, when he taps your shoulder from behind the camera.

you whirl around a bright smile at him, when he knelts again tapping his shoulders you mouth a no at him.

giving up at his reassurance he could hold you up easily. and he does, you’re careful to not bounce so much while cheering and singing along to the music that plays for the show.

he turns the camera to face himself and you hunch down to kiss his cheek, lifting his head so you could kiss him properly in the video.

it’s then when you both look up that two fireworks shoot out “congratulations henry and y/n!” followed by “happy anniversary!”

[brashierc]

Baby Brash

July 13th, his 20th birthday. That night was the reason why you were here today. If that night wouldn’t have happened you wouldn’t have peed on a stick this morning, it wouldn’t have been positive and you wouldn’t be sitting on the bed at your OBGYN’s clinic awaiting for her results. 

You’ve been best friends with Connor since you both were 7. That was 13 years of friendship. 13 years of listening to him go on about photography, 13 years of supporting him and his dreams no one else really supported when he first got started in high school. 

It was also 13 years of being asked how long you two had been in a relationship. 

Girls and boys can be best friends without falling in love. Or well, that’s what you always said to everyone when they asked. You’d been in love with Connor since you were 17, but you knew he’d never feel the same, so you kept that feeling pushed way back into your brain.

Connor was there for you through every boyfriend, just like you were for his girlfriends. The heartbreak and the first time discussions after the fact. 

“Alright,” The Doctor walks in after tapping on the wooden door with her knuckle twice. “So your positive was correct, you are pregnant.” 

You sighed, shoulders sinking. “Really?” 

“Yep, really really pregnant.” She smiles, handing you a few brochures. “Let’s go over your options.” 

You look up with wide eyes, horror running through your veins and emotions. 

“Let’s not, thanks Doc, but I’m already attached to this kid, and if you knew the Dad you would be too.” 

She smiles, nodding but telling you to take the brochures just in case. 

She refers you to one of her colleagues who’s an Obstetrician with her practice and can take you through your pregnancy and birth. 

You take the information she gave you and leave with a small smile and a polite wave goodbye to her front office receptionist. Once you’re back in your car you let the new totally settle in. 

You were having a baby, with Connor, at age 19 and 20. Super cool. 

On Connor’s birthday everything went a little crazy. Shawn threw a rager, wanting to celebrate his newest addition to his team, and his friend who was turning the big 2 0. He flew you out to where they were so you could be there to celebrate and surprise Connor.

Everyone went a little crazy, everyone. 

Brian was so blacked out that he took Alessia back to his room with him, forgot that he invited her in, and called Shawn from the bathroom freaking out that she’d followed him home. (Even though we were all in the same hotel) 

Shawn was the only one that didn’t go hard. Knowing he had shows and other obligations like filming music videos and meeting up with Chance the Rapper. He supervised, and not well, but had a blast watching everyone be stupid and make fools of themselves. 

Connor was a clingy needy drunk, so throughout the night he just became more and more glued to your side. He hadn’t seen you in months, and missed you so much. It all started when he wanted to dance to the slow songs with you, hands on your hips, holding you close. You fell into his embrace, missing being held in such a way, and feeling so safe with Connor. He planted a few kisses to your neck, and one just behind your ear learning very quickly that that was your weak spot. 

After you let out a shaky moan of his name, tucking your fingers into his hair, you were a goner. You both quickly found your way back to his room, falling on the bed nakedly exploring the other between the sheets. 

By morning? You both swore to never speak of it again, pretend like nothing happened, and move on. Everything was normal, it literally was like nothing happened. He still picked on you, you still gave him shit in front of the guys, but you both were still there for the other in ways no one else could be. 

You clicked on his contact; ‘Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash” 

Brian really changed Connor’s name in your phone to the best thing you’d ever seen, you wouldn’t dare change it. 

“Whattup?” He answered on the third ring, and suddenly, you’re emotional. 

“Hey,” You choke out, looking around trying to distract your brain.

“What’s wrong?” His side of the phone shuffles, and becomes marginally quieter.

“Nothing,” You whisper, “What are you doing?”

“I’m talking to you, tell me what’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing Con.” 

“You’re upset though, I can hear it.” 

“When do you come home again?” 

“I come home next week, I have to meet my counselor and then register for classes. I get into town on Monday, and I leave Friday.” 

You nod, knowing full well he can’t see you. “Can we meet on Monday?”

You need to tell him, and you won’t keep this a secret from him longer than you have too.

“Um yeah, I fly in at like 8, wanna meet for coffee and breakfast or something?” 

“Yeah perfect.” 

“Okay…..? Ready to tell me what’s wrong yet?” He asks.

You sigh, “I should let you go, you’re probably busy.” 

“No, hey,” He protests. “I wanna talk, I miss you.” 

You smile, insides running warm when you hear his voice say those words. “I miss you too Baby Brash.” 

You can hear him sigh and you can practically see him rolling his eyes. “So you watched the newest video?” 

“Of course I did, got your post notifications on.” 

“No you don’t.”

“No you’re right, I don’t, I have Shawn’s on.” 

At this he laughs, like a snort and everything and it makes you feel good, to be able to get him to laugh like that again, to hear that laugh. 

“Brashier, we gotta go!” Brian yells at him in the background.

“You’re literally standing behind me, why you gotta yell?” 

“Because I felt like pissing you off.” Brian snickers. “Who you on the phone with? Gots a girlyfriend?” Something must happen on Connor’s side of the phone because suddenly all you can hear is boys yelling. 

“Connor that’s the fourth girl you’ve been on the phone with today!” 

“There is no hot sex going on over here!”

“PASS THE WEED MAN!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Connor’s voice is back, “Jesus it’s just Y/n, could you…?” 

“But we wanna say hi!” Shawn and Brian whine. 

You giggle and blush a little at the attention. 

Connor shuffles the phone, and then you can barely hear him, he’s really muffled but you make it out. “She’s upset about something, so could you fucking leave for a minute. I was getting her to talk and then you fuckers walked in.” A few seconds later and he’s back crystal clear. “Okay they left, you still there Honey?” 

“You didn’t need to kick them out.” 

“But I wanna talk to you.” 

“They just wanted to say hi.” 

“But you’re my best friend.” He whines, “They’d steal all your attention.” 

“You need to go, I’ll see you next week okay?” 

“Okay, love you kid.” He says softly.

“Love you too Brash.” 

**

He walks in, looking all nerdy cute, face down into his phone. 

iMessage from Bri’s lil bitch C David Brash: Im here where u is

“If you ever looked up from your phone you’d know I’m here too Bitch.” You say from your table, laughing when he jumps and looks over at you. 

“You scared the shit out of me.” He laughs, smiling really wide when you stand and give him a big hug. “Fuck I missed you Kid.” He sighs into your neck, letting your scent relax his stressed out mind.

“Missed you too.” 

 He takes the seat across from you, thanking you for the coffee you already had ordered and sat in front of his seat on the table. He takes a sip as you take a deep breath and shut your eyes to give yourself that last push of encouragement. 

“Connor?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m pregnant.” You blurt. 

It’s then that you realize your eyes are still closed, opening them one at a time to see his reaction. It’s comical almost, the sight of him, jaw dropped, eyes bugging, body frozen. 

You give it a moment, a second to really settle into his brain, you needed to do the same when you found out. Hell, you’re still doing that. 

He clears his throat, shakes his head a bit, but his eyes continue to flare out at you. 

“Excuse me?” He croaks. 

“I’m pregnant,” You nod, watching him nod with you. “And it’s yours.” 

He hums, and continues to stare at you. You take a sip of your decaf coffee, wincing at the weird taste. 

“Fuck man, I don’t know if I can handle 9 months of decaf, that shit is gross as hell.” 

This seems to snap Connor out of whatever daze he was in. 

“You’re being real right now?” He looks around, “Is Brian here filming me? Is this a prank or something? You got me, you got my reaction, turn it off now.” 

You sigh, worried he would think something like that. You just sit there, staring at him.

“You’re being real?!?” He says with persistence in his voice, leaning closer to you. 

“That night we swore to never speak of again? Well, we’ll be talking for at least the next 18 years.” You shrug.

He’s still in shock, just staring at you with a glazed over glance. You just nod and smile a little at him, trying to coax him through his shock.

“I-” He gapes, “Um, we...I...condom!” 

You giggle, shaking your head at him while rolling your eyes. “Really? That’s what you’re gonna do? Blurt ‘condom’ out like it’ll fix everything?” 

“But I used one!” He’s becoming defensive. Snapping at you in ways he’s done in the past when he’s stressed to the brim and can’t control his emotions. You can count the amount of times snapped at you on one hand. 

“They’re only 98% effective, if that, Connor. Or maybe it broke or something. It happened, and I’m pregnant.” 

“No! We can’t, a baby?” 

You take a deep breath, trying to tell yourself that he’s just in shock and that he’s gonna be happy about this, someday. He doesn’t mean the way he’s reacting right now. 

“How are you calm right now?” He asks in shrill. 

“I don’t know Connor, life happens. It’s not perfect but we’ll figure it out.” You shrug, raising your voice a little to match his level.

“Fucking shit,” He tugs at his hair, face grimancing as he groans. 

You sigh, grabbing your purse, collecting your phone and coffee and stand to leave. His head whips up when you stand, and he watches as you straighten out your shorts before starting to walk away.

“No, don’t go.” He pleads.

“Talk to me when this settles Connor. I can’t be here to watch you freak out. My hormones are all sorts of fucked up right now and I’m trying to stay positive about this whole thing but your reaction isn’t helping.” 

He gets up and follows you out of the coffee shop, racing to meet you at your car before you can leave. 

“Wait, talk to me, please.” He blocks your door so you can’t close it. 

You look up, tears in your eyes that tear his heart apart. “We really did turn into Ross and Rachel huh? Just like everyone said throughout high school. Except we won’t end up together, we’ll always be the Ross and Rachel before they got together.” 

He shakes his head, “I’m your lobster.”

**

Connor sits on your couch three days later. This was the first chance he’d been able to actually come over, any other conversations have been over the phone or text message since your meeting at the coffee shop. 

It’s kind of awkward, the both of you sitting in silence as you try to not bring up the elephant in the room. 

“I’m sorry,” You clear your throat, wincing as you lean forward and start this conversation. “I’m sorry that I up and left you on Monday. That wasn’t cool. I dropped a big ass bomb on you, something we would have never expected in a million years, and then just got up and left you alone. My hormones are whacked out right now but that’s not an excuse. So I’m sorry for being a shitty friend and making you go through that shock alone.” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, turning towards you on the couch, scooting closer. “Don’t be sorry. I was kind of being a jackass. I shouldn’t have flipped out like that.” 

You sigh, smiling up at him. “I missed you, a lot.” 

His hand falls on top of yours, fingers intertwining. “I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He sighs, letting his eyes rake over you for a moment, imagining what you’ll look like with a baby bump. “How the hell am I supposed to leave for tour?” 

“Just go, I’m not due until May. You’ll be back in December, that’s plenty of time.” 

“You’re pregnant, I want to be here for appointments, picking out and setting up the crib, cravings, all of it!” 

You smile, reaching over and caressing his cheek. “Then talk to Shawn, sit down with Cez, explain it to Brian because he’ll lose his shit if you leave him without a solid reason behind it. We’ll figure it out, and make do.” You shrug.

He nods, leaning into your hand a little. “You always make everything better.” 

“That’s because I know you Connor David,” You tap his cheek twice, “I know how to handle you.” 

He grins, rolling his eyes before flopping back into the corner of your couch he’s claimed as his. “Have you told your mom yet?” He asks, throwing your fluffy white and black throw blanket over his lap. 

“No,” You sigh, kicking your feet up and relax across from him on your sectional. He smirks as you take a breath, reaching over and grabbing your feet to give you a foot massage. “What are you doing?” 

“Gotta get used to pampering you, might as well get a head start.” He murmurs. “Are you scared to tell your mom?”  

“I mean not really. It’s not the ideal situation I was hoping for when I thought about having kids. But like, I can’t complain. I’m honored to have your kid Con, I think I got lucky when it comes to the baby daddy part of this.” 

He tilts his head, looking over at you with a blush on his cheeks. 

“I guess you could say I got pretty lucky with the baby mama part.” He mutters, watching you from under his lashes, grinning when you roll your eyes and throw your head back to hide the apparent blush forming across your cheeks.

**

Your guest bedroom that once used to be your small library and office area has now been bombarded with camera gear, a full sized bed covered in basic grey sheets and a black comforter.

Connor spoke with Shawn and Cez the first chance he had when he got back to tour. He explained the situation, as awkward and unexpected it is, and expressed his need to be home more for you and his unborn child.

Both were very understanding to him and his needs, granting him a week off a month ensuring that he’d still be able to get enough footage but also time at home. It also gave Shawn and the crew a moment of peace and not having to worry about cameras so much, not that Connor is like the crazy paps. 

But now that Connor will be home once a month it made sense that he move into your spare room instead of having to stay with his parents or pay for a place he really wouldn’t see all that often. It was the perfect set up, to be there and help you when you need it. 

You two were still adjusting to living together, or with another human (of the different sex). 

You walked into the apartment from class, stopping short when the first thing you saw in your kitchen was Connor, in only his black Calvins.

“Bro,” You shield your eyes setting your backpack on your bar stool, “Can you wear pants?” 

Connor looks over at the sound of your voice, a slice of cheese between his fingers, munching on a bite. He looks down, and then back up to you holding a hand over your eyes. 

“I’m in boxers, I’m not naked.” 

“No one wants to see your dick though,” You shake your head, grinning as you say, “Been there, done that.” 

He chuckles, leaning closer to you and peeling your hands away from your eyes so you can see his smug smile. “You weren’t complaining then.” 

Your jaw drops and you blush as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Well,” You stutter, “I mean,” He smiles, getting the best reaction out of you. “Shut up, go put clothes on!” You smack his arm shooing him to his room. 

**

You both were getting really good and creative with ways to hiding your pregnancy. The only people who knew were the team, and family. Not even friends from your high school knew.

The issue with hiding this was the fact that Connor was gaining a lot of attention from Shawn’s fans. You didn’t blame them, no matter what brought them to become a fan of his, it at least brought more attention to his work and was getting him that much more popular. This just meant that you had to take hiding your pregnancy to a whole new level.

For a while you were able to just wear some big sweatshirts to cover the smallest bump you had. When sweatshirts weren’t able to work so much you then resorted to really flowy shirts and a big purse you could always swing in front of your belly. 

There was even one time that Connor and the whole crew were in town. They had invited you to lunch since no one had seen you since Connor told everyone. But at the end of lunch the manager came to tell the group that the paparazzi had followed Shawn and his own lunch date. 

You were panicked while everyone just rolled their eyes and grumbled about how someone had probably called them so pictures of Shawn and his date could be taken. You looked to Connor and gulped as he laughed with Brian about a meme he was showing him. 

“Y/n, you okay?” Shawn asked from across the table.

He was always so kind, and it boggled your mind how he could always see everyone, even when there were thousands in front of him, he could see everyone and notice every mood change.

Connor looked over after Shawn’s question and noticed your worried expression.

“Um, I’m,” You looked down at your shirt that very clearly showed off your small baby bump. “We haven’t told-”

“Oh shit,” Connor mumbled now noticing what you were referring too. “Fuck they’re gonna get pictures of us.” He looked to Shawn.

“I totally forgot,” Shawn rubs his forehead. “I’m so sorry you guys.” 

“Do you have anything to like hide behind?” Brian asked.

“No, I didn’t bring a jacket because it’s so nice out.” You shake your head. 

“Actually,” Connor cringes, looking at Josiah. “Do you still have your pocket reflector?” 

Josiah nods, handing it to Connor. 

“We’ll head out first, and then you guys go with Brian and maybe they’ll won’t pay you much attention. We’ll take a walk down the block or something.” Shawn stands, giving you an apologetic smile before walking out with his date.

You look to Connor and Brian as Connor is unfolding the reflector that creates a decent sized circle. You just laugh out loud when he offers it to you. 

“What?” He asks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” You laugh taking it from him. “It definitely doesn’t look like I’m hiding anything.” You’re sarcastic tone makes the boys chuckle. 

“Here,” Brian hands Connor an old disposable camera. “Pretend like you’re taking my picture as we walk to the car so it looks like she’s actually using it.” 

You just laugh harder and so do the boys at this elaborate plan to cover your pregnant belly. 

** 

At 5 months your little one is now starting to move. You’re really uncomfortable at the moment, in the stages of dealing with pregnancy and the symptoms. 

Tonight is no different, if anything, it’s worse. Baby Brash (literally) has the hiccups and it’s causing your belly to move every 30 seconds or so. So sleeping at the moment isn’t a reality. Finding a comfortable spot to fall asleep isn’t a reality either.

iMessage from Papa 👶: Stop moving, I can hear your bed springs, lord help our child when you get laid.

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s message. He changed his name in your phone when he finally saw what you had him under. He even changed your name in his phone to ‘Mama 👶’ with the baby emoji. 

iMessage to Papa👶 : Tell your child to stop moving so much then

You watched as he read the message, but frowned a little when he didn’t start responding. You jumped when your bedroom door creaked open, revealing Connor in a worn white t shirt and plaid pajama pants. 

“Hey you,” He crawls into your bed, shuffling under your covers with you. “Hey Kid,” He smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss to your belly. “Stop moving in there so Mama can go to sleep. She’s keeping me up because you’re keeping her up.”

You roll your eyes again, glaring at him. “Really?”

“You told me to tell the kid.” He shrugs. 

His hands have found their way to your belly, rubbing soothing circles in hopes of calming his baby down and lulling you to sleep. 

You sigh and let your eyes flutter close.

“What hurts tonight?” He whispers.

“My hips and back.” 

“Roll to your side for me.” 

You do as told, and moan a little when he starts massaging at your tender hips. Your lower back is so tired and your hips are sore. 

He keeps rubbing and tracing designs on your skin until your breathing evens out. He rolls away a little to go back to his room before your rolling towards him, and resting your head on his chest.

“Don’t go.” You whine.

**

His whole life flashed before his eyes when he got the call. His whole life. 

That’s the only words running through his mind. 

His whole life.

“What did she say?” Brian as he drove to the airport. 

“She said that she was being transported to the hospital and because she’s pregnant they wanted to take her in for more testing just to double check that everything was okay.” 

“And what happened again?” 

“She was driving home from work, her light went green and she proceeded through the intersection when some dipshit in a fucking truck ran the red and hit the back of her car, sounds like it’s totaled but luckily he just hit her trunk, so she wasn’t hurt to much.” 

“She’s okay though right?” Brian asked again.

“As far as I know, but I’ll keep you updated. Just tell everyone else for me okay?” 

“Of course man. Just go take care of her and that Baby.” 

Connor takes a shaky breath as he looks out the window. 

“Connor,” Brian said, surprising him by using his full name. “You need to breathe.” 

“My whole life was in that car Brian, my whole life was sitting in the driver's seat of that car, and-” 

“You need to breathe Connor.” 

“I’m trying!” He snaps at Brian, “But I’m freaking out! My girl and our baby were in an accident today and I’m not there with them! So please forgive me if I’m a little scared and panicked.” 

“I know you are, you just gotta stay calm. Positive thoughts lead to positive outcomes.” 

“You really need to stop doing that weird fucking yoga thing with Shawn. It’s changing you man.” Connor jokes, trying to lighten his own mood. 

**

By the time Connor’s landed you’re already home and resting. He bursts into the apartment like a bat out of hell, slamming the door and flipping the lock before throwing his bag to the ground and racing to your room.

“Jesus, be a little louder why don’t you.” You comment when he falls into your room.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is our Bean okay?” He throws himself onto your bed, hands instantly searching for your ever growing bump.

“We’re okay.” You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I told you we were fine and that you didn’t need to come home.”

“Right,” He scoffs. “Like I was just gonna stay miles away from you after you’ve been in an accident.” 

“But we’re okay! You’re parents, my parents, our siblings, everyone was there with me. Really we’re okay.” 

“Okay, okay.” He nods, laying down with his head beside your big belly, rubbing and tapping at it, smiling when he feels a few kicks. “My Bean is kicking?” He looks up at you.

“Yeah, has been for a week or so.” 

“Why didn’t you say so?” 

“Well,” You frown, looking away. “To be honest I planned on pretending that the first time Bean kicked when you were home next was the first time so you didn’t feel like you were missing out on anything.” 

Connor smiles at you, shaking his head and leaning up to plant a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for planning to lie to me.” 

You giggle, before shifting to sit up more. You reach for the papers on your bedside table and hand them to Connor.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down. His face falls, frown dropping his lips eyes looking up at you. “What is this? Why are you handing me this?”

“I think we need to talk about it.” You shrug.

“Not right now.” 

“Connor this is serious, it’s not just us anymore. We’re having a kid, we need to have a Will drawn up.” 

“I understand that, but I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” 

“Connor, in the event that something happens to one of us, we need to know what the other wants.” 

“Stop, stop, stop talkin’ like that!” 

“Connor,” 

“Please,” He tugs at his hair, “Please not right now. I understand we need to know, I get that and we’ll have it drawn up but I don’t want to talk about it right now. All my nightmares came true today.” He looks at you with sad eyes. “I haven’t told you this, but lately I’ve been having a few nightmares that something happens to you and our Bean, and I’m not there to help you or protect you.” He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut. “And that happened to me today. You both were in an accident, and I wasn’t here.” 

“Connor,” You say again.

“I get it!” He snaps. “But I don’t like the thought of losing you okay? I’m fucking in love with you, and I don’t really have you, but I thought I lost you when I got that call. So can we stop talking like this for the day? Please? Please can you give my heart a moment?” 

You stare up at him with wide eyes, your heart rate picking up at his words. 

“You’re what?” You whisper, caressing his cheek.

“Huh?” 

“You’re in love with me?” 

His eyes go wide in panic now that he’s realized what he’s said.

“Are you being serious?”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“Why haven’t you said anything!” You slap his arm.

“I don’t know, you never-”

“I’ve been in love with you since Junior year!” You keep slapping his arm.

“Stop hitting me!” He grabs your hands, interlocking your fingers.

“You never said anything!” “Neither did you!” He responds.

**

Things were different now, you still hadn’t really said officially what you two were now, but it was this weird in between stage of best friend and boyfriend.

He would kiss you sometimes, and always hold your hand, he’d even let a few pet names slip, but when asked by others he still referred to you as his best friend. 

It confused you to no end, because now that something changed he’s moved into your room, claiming that he would just sneak in every night anyway, and now you had room for a nursery. 

“Babe?” He called from the nursery, seated criss cross on the ground, staring up at the ceiling while waiting for your response. “BABE?” 

“What?” You call back, walking down the hall to the laundry room.

“Can you bring me a water?” 

“Really? You can’t get it yourself?” 

“I’m building the crib!” 

“I’m doing your laundry!” You yell back, leaning against the dryer, rolling your eyes at his request.

“Please?” He asks softly. When you don’t respond he resorts to baby talk he knows you can’t resist. “Pweety Pwease? I’ll give you kisses.” 

You groan, waddling down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing him a cucumber mint flow from the fridge, and grabbing yourself a watermelon lime one. You make your way to the nursery, throwing him the water before taking a seat in the new rocking chair Shawn bought you guys.

“How you doing there Pretty Mama?” He smiles looking over at you. 

“I’m tired, and big.” You whine, looking down at your very pregnant belly.

“I think you look really pretty.” He blushes, looking back at the crib.

“You owe me kisses.” You pout.

“Do I?” He looks at you, “What if I was crossing my fingers?” 

You gasp, furrowing your brows and crossing your arms across your chest. “That’s so mean. You’re pregnant best friend just waddled her way to the kitchen and back to bring you your precious water and you won’t give her kisses like you promised?” 

He’s up on his knees crawling towards you. “Girlfriend.” He hums setting his hands on your thighs so he can lean closer.

“What?” 

“You mean my pregnant girlfriend.” He corrects you.

“Do I?” You asked softly, biting your lip as you stare into those blue eyes.

“I sure hope so.” He whispers.

“Is that what I am? Your girlfriend?” 

He pulls back a little, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean? I thought-”

“Yeah me too but then you told the guy at the baby shop that I was your best friend.” 

He sighs, hanging his head. “It’s so natural, or I don’t know, programmed in my head to introduce you that way. But I thought we turned into something more when we confessed.” 

“Me too, but when you did that it through me off.” 

“Babe,” He smiles, rubbing his hands up your legs, “We live together, we sleep in the same bed, we kiss, we love, we laugh, we fight, we’re pregnant.” He let’s his right hand wander to your belly. “I consider you my girlfriend. I hope you consider me your boyfriend.” 

“I do.” 

“So then why are you pouting?”

“Because I really want kisses.” 

“Oh my goodness.” He laughs, leaning forward to cover your lips with his own. He kisses you deeply, pecking your lips three more times before pulling away. “Better?”

“For now.” 

“Okay.” He laughs, shaking his head before going back to building the crib.

**

“Boyfriend?” You yell from the bedroom when you hear the door open.

“It’s Boyfriend and his friends!” Connor yells back. “Girlfriend?” 

“Yes?”

“Where are you?” 

You quickly finish tying the bow to his gift before making your way to the living room where Shawn and Brian are seated on the couch.

“Hey!” Shawn jumps up, giving you a hug before looking down to your belly. “Can I touch your belly?” 

You laugh a little, “Yeah go ahead, thank you for asking.” 

“Of course, it would be a little rude to just go ahead.” He says touching your belly. 

“Can you tell that to the rest of the world?” 

“Hey Bean!” Shawn says to your belly. “Uncle Shawn got you the coolest thing ever!” He says before running to the couch to show you a small guitar case. 

“Shawn you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t help myself, I was looking for a new one and saw this little thing.” He pops the case open. “I’ll teach Bean how to play and everything!” 

“There you are!” Connor smiles when he enters holding three beers and your favorite flow flavor. He walks up to you, planting a wet smooch to your lips before handing the boys their drinks. 

“I have something for you.” You grin, holding up the little gift wrapped box.

“Oh yeah?” He takes it from you. 

He unties the bow, rips the paper, and opens the box to reveal a small blue Polaroid camera.

“This is so cute,” He says holding it in his hand.

Shawn gasps and Brian stands up in excitement.

“Where’d you get this honey?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” You wave him off, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “What color is it?” 

“Blue?” He asks, looking up at you, and then over to the excited boys next to him that are punching the other in the arm.

“And blue is for what?” You pull it out of him.

“Blue is for….” He stares at you, “Blue is for boy.” His eyes light up. “Blue is for boy?” 

“Blue is for boy!” You squeal.

“Oh my god! Blue is for boy!” He wraps you up in his arms, kissing your neck. “It’s a boy, we’re having a boy!” 

“ITS A BOY!” Shawn and Brian cheer.

**

You groan in pain as you feel another contraction hit. You’ve been in labor for three hours now and your little boy does not want to come see the world.

Connor tries not to wince or complain about his hand he’s sure you’ve severely bruised. He breathes with you through the pain, running a soothing hand over your head and taking your matted hair back away from your forehead.

“There you go Baby.” He whispers, “You’re doing so good.”

“I love you Connor David,” You smile at him, “But I want to fucking kick you in the balls right now.” 

He winces at the thought and shakes his head. “I’m sorry Baby,” He looks away. “I wish I could take your pain away, I wish it were me.” 

“Me too.” You relax when the contraction stops.

“Still holding your hand?” The nurse smiles when she walks in to check on you. “You’re better than most Dad’s, they usually wimp out by now from the pain.” 

“He never lets go, no matter what.” You smile up at Connor.

“You’re my lobster Baby,” He leans down to kiss your lips.

**

//

written by: @shawnm521 

[thegrimzuera]

Now this is a story all about how my life got flipped, turned upside down into a real-life, real BAD fanfic.

So for the sake of privacy, we’ll say that my name is Zoe. I was raised in heteronormative, Midwestern suburbia. Now for the most part I adore my family and I loved my childhood, but in this case it did not work to my advantage. You see, nobody ever told me I could be gay. Just slipped their minds, I guess. Oops? So for most of my adolescence I walked around like a chump, thinking I was straight. I mean, straight people, you do you! It just didn’t work for me. That in and of itself is Bad Fanfic Trope #1.

I dated this guy on and off throughout high school. We’ll call him Chad. I liked Chad quite a bit. He was nerdy and we had nice conversations. For some reason we just couldn’t click well enough to maintain our relationship long enough that it became permanent (hint: because I was GAY...!). Honestly, we don’t even need to dwell on Chad that much. He’d be the least important part of this story if it weren’t for the fact that during one of our “off again” phases, he met and fell right in love with a person who we’ll dub Sarah.

Here’s where it gets juicy.

Now I’d never met her, but everyone said that Sarah was just like me—but cooler. We were both cute little emo girls, we both liked anime and weird music, and we both for some unknown reason liked Chad. Sarah also had this really amazing accent because she had moved to the states from Wales. All of Chad’s friends called her “British Zoe.” Come to think of it, that title made me a little bitter towards Sarah, and if Sarah ever heard about it, it may have contributed to her feeling bitter towards me too. Of course, being directed to compete over Chad didn’t help.

So Chad dated Sarah for a while, but it was fine, because Chad and I were going to stay friends like the mature 18-year-olds we were. Even though I was still insanely jealous of this mysterious and unattainably cool Sarah person. It was during this time that I figured I liked girls (and boys, I still thought) and as I was toying with the idea of telling Chad about my newly discovered bisexuality, he informed me that Sarah had also come out as bi. Interesting, isn’t it? 👀

I had the opportunity to meet Sarah once. We all went to an anime convention together, and I distinctly remember taking a deep breath beforehand and deciding that this was the day Sarah and I would become friends. There was no need for me to be jealous! If she was as cool as everyone said, then imagine how great a friendship would be. But I was shy. And she was shy. And we had all that baggage between us. I went home that day feeling alienated and disappointed.

Now things began to get messy, because conflicting feelings often do that. I’ll spare you the ugly details, but tell you that my friendship with Chad ended quite abruptly when I discovered that he’d been juggling both Sarah and I romantically at the same time. So I split, made a life for myself 50 miles away, and that was that.

Except it wasn’t. Fast forward about six years—one marriage, one child, one mental breakdown and revelation, and a divorce later. I moved back to my hometown, and one night I walked down the winter streets on the East side with a good friend of mine. I didn’t often come to these parts because I was raised on the opposite side of the city and it was unfamiliar to me. This was actually the first time I’d been here in about...hmm, six years? But one coincidence is all it takes I suppose.

As we walked along, I happened to glance into the front window of a restaurant just off the sidewalk. I had to do a double take, because there was no way that after six years and only one meeting I would immediately recognize...Sarah? Also Chad 😒 I did not say hello. I didn’t know what to do at all! After a mini meltdown, I decided that the best thing I could do was to reach out to Chad on social media.

In truth, I’d wished over the years that I could repair my friendship with Chad—wished that things had played out differently. If we all hadn’t been so dumb, maybe I wouldn’t have lost that friendship. To my great surprise, Chad was very friendly when I reached out. We arranged a time to meet up for coffee, and for several hours we talked and reconciled everything that had happened. We caught up on life, and Chad said that I should hang out with him and his friends—and Sarah—sometime.

I remember the first time I got to spend time with Sarah. It was shortly after that first coffee that Chad, Sarah, and I went to a local pinball bar to play and have drinks. We got together to play board games and have dinner around that time as well. In both instances, I was floored by Sarah’s kindness to me. Despite both of us being rather quiet by nature, we had easy conversation. I also remember feeling like such a dork in comparison. Me and my carefully curated outfits and sculpted hair were overdone and pretentious when compared to Sarah’s shaved head and relaxed wardrobe of black tank tops and some of the coolest pants I’ve ever seen. It was all so effortless for her.

Damn, I wanted so badly to be her friend! Chad kept encouraging me that Sarah thought I was really cool too, but I just didn’t believe it. When I learned that Chad would be moving out of state, I realized I had to stake my claim on Sarah’s friendship fast.

We all got together at Sarah’s new apartment for potentially one last time. Merely stepping foot into this place had my desire to be a part of Sarah’s world skyrocketing. The apartment sat on the East side of town, less than a hundred feet from the very restaurant window where I’d first saw her. It was on the upper level of an old, hipster coffee shop for goodness sake. If I didn’t want to be friends with Sarah just to be friends with her, I certainly wanted to For The Aesthetic.

That night I also met the person we’ll call Katie. This was Sarah’s new roommate. I could just tell as we interacted that evening that something good would come of this. At least, I hoped so. I largely contribute my lasting friendship with Sarah to Katie’s presence, because Katie has such a way about them. They can take even the most shy and awkward folks like me and get them laughing like fools. A little alcohol may have helped as well.

I lamented that night about how lonely I had been, and I did so out loud. That really should be embarrassing, but I’m nothing but grateful for my clumsy and pathetic tongue, because it allowed Sarah to open her mouth and invite me into her life.

“You can be my friend,” she offered earnestly. “Once Chad leaves I won’t really know what to do with myself, so you’re welcome here any time. I mean it!”

And hot damn, was I going to take her up on that. I came home that night absolutely elated. I had found a place to belong. I wrote songs and poetry about how happy I was. I told my parents how happy I was. I had never felt so hopeful, right down to the tips of my fingers. Flowers could have grown straight from my chest that night.

A week or so later, I had plans to have dinner with Sarah, Katie, and another friend of theirs, Rose. I was growing connections. That was also the week that I discovered Sarah and Chad had broke up because of some deeply rooted trash-bag tendencies he’d been revealed to have. We won’t go into that, but Chad was out of the picture, and somehow that raised the stakes. I had no training wheels now, not even in the form of an out-of-state buddy who could encourage me that Sarah truly did want my friendship.

Fortunately, what came to be on that evening with the three almost-strangers was the beginnings of the most instantaneous, wild, and addictive friendship of my life. We talked about everything. We discussed heartbreak, joy, pain, existence as a whole. We sat on a rooftop deck and gazed at the stars, and we immediately planned a get together for the following night where we would meet Lena and Emma, and our core group of instant best friends would be complete.

I can only describe this friendship as a whirlwind romance. These were the true loves of my life, and it had all started with laying eyes on Sarah by means of coincidence or fate that night in the winter—after years of tension and competition! Talk about an Enemies to Friends arc.

But I’m not even done yet.

As I mentioned, our little group became inseparable. We spent all of our time together and poured more energy into our friendship than I had ever given or been given by another adult person. I learned that these people were the coolest to ever exist, and that they thought I was cool too. I finally l believed it, because they wouldn’t allow me to doubt. This was a fierce love.

For some reason, with all this fierce love, I always found myself dying to get closer to Sarah. Closer and closer yet. I also felt particularly protective of my friendship with her. I think this had everything to do with the fact that our friendship was so ill-fated and had been thwarted many times before. I promised myself that I would never let anything or anyone come between us. Sarah was my number one concern.

You can see where this was going.

Bad Fanfic Trope #2: Enemies to Friends [to Lovers]

Now let me just take a pause in our literary journey to tell you some of the reasons I fell for Sarah. Consider this a montage of sorts:

For being a very shy, very introverted person, Sarah lives loudly. She’s the one to show up in the most fabulous, effortlessly cool outfit you’ve ever seen. We once went on a walk to the park with mine and Emma’s kids—Sarah wore black leather hammer pants. She has about ten thousand pairs of black boots, each one unique and quietly elaborate. She just exists this way, never looking like she tries too hard or had to even put thought into her appearance. She just is.

Sarah also loves to dance. And she’s good at it. This was another thing that surprised me, I suppose because I figured that as a self-proclaimed awkward person like myself, she would be too timid to dance. But Sarah can and will dance to anything. Sarah will dance in silence. Sarah also knows and loves every song known to humankind. I’m talking tens of thousands of songs—she knows the lyrics, the albums, the artists, and probably the life stories of said artists.

Sarah is an artist herself. She draws, paints, and does pottery. For my birthday, she threw me the first party I’d had since my absolute failure of a sweet sixteen (in and around eight years prior), baked me the most delicious lavender cupcakes I’ve ever tasted (oh yes! Sarah also is a master in the kitchen!), and gave me the coolest, trippiest, handmade cup. It is my favorite cup. I would probably murder if this cup asked me to.

Most importantly, Sarah is the most kind, gracious, emotionally intelligent person I know. I’ve always been astounded by her ability to forget our past and extend such grace to me. Despite the way we met, she welcomed me into her life. She’s always the first one to check in not just on me, but on all of our friends and even people who have wronged her to be sure that we are all okay. Sarah understands people. She understands feelings and can express them so beautifully when she’s actually given the chance.

We’ve done the whole nine yards over the last year since we met (er, met again). I’m talking midnight kisses, bed sharing, romantic dinners, slow dancing, regular dancing. The problem was in figuring out if it meant anything, because when all your friends are gay, this sort of thing can be confusing.

Nobody told me to feel this way. A smart person would have told me not to. A smart me would have listened. But I love the feeling of falling, so I allowed it. I allowed it and clung to it. It actually happened quite fast. Sarah and I have always been honest with each other; it was something I prioritized due to our rocky beginning. So, when I realized my feelings for her, I wasted no time in asking her on a date.

Sarah said yes, but she also told me she wasn’t sure where she wanted this to go or if she was ready for anything serious. Her relationship with the trash bag had left her pretty severely wounded, and she was understandably still healing from that. And so together we agreed that this would be a date without expectation.

Sarah also told me that she’d never been on a proper date before. Trash bag had never bothered to do that. This was just more motivation to make this a good date. Not to pat myself on the back too hard, but I did a great job. I am good at treating people right. We went axe throwing (yes, very gay, I know), and then had dinner and drinks.

All seemed well, I was happy, she was happy. But, since we agreed that it was a casual date, I didn’t want to apply any pressure by asking her out again too quickly. So I waited and tried to play my hand wisely.

Now during this time, COVID cases were on the rise in my area and in the rest of the country. Hangouts in our tiny group had been easy and safe up until this point because of the nice summer weather and Sarah’s outdoor, rooftop deck where we usually would gather. Winter in the Midwest, however, made that impossible.

Now I thought I might lose my mind if I couldn’t see my people for the entire winter. Fortunately, Sarah asked me to be her “plus one” of sorts—each of the roommates in her apartment got to choose one. Katie chose their partner, and the third roommate in the apartment chose his partner. Sarah chose me.

I say again, you can see where this is going.

Sarah confessed to me that she felt lonely and jealous of her roommates romantic lives. They had partners, she didn’t. They were in love, she wasn’t. But here I was.

Bad Fanfic Trope #3: Fake Dating AU

Now I know what you’re thinking. Why would I do this? Why would Sarah do this? Why, Zoe? Why?

Emotions are a very persuasive bastard, I’ll tell you that. Besides, it made Sarah happy, and I got to go over to my favorite apartment with my favorite person. We actually spent quite a lot of time together in this days.

One particularly magical night for me was the walk we took around a local college campus. This was near Christmastime, so the surrounding houses were all lit up with colored lights and the atmosphere just hit different. Even being out in the open, it felt intimate. We came across the most oddly placed bus stop in the parking lot. Truly it was an island out at sea—it just looked like it didn’t belong there, a little glass building with citrus light leaking out of it.

“That’s a portal,” Sarah joked, spotting it at the same time as me.

I laughed, but I was actually serious when I asked her, “Should we go through?”

So we did. We ventured to the middle of the lot and entered in the left-side door. The inside felt even more otherworldly, and I’m still not convinced that something supernatural wasn’t going on there. But we giggled like kids and imitated the sounds of machine and tearing space-time, and then we stepped out the right-side door.

I’m pretty sure that was the night I knew I was totally fucked. Up until then things had been pretty manageable, feelingswise. But everything about that evening just pumped me up with hope and adrenaline, and whether things went up or downhill from there is kind of hard to tell.

Things really were good! I got to dress up for mini, COVID safe parties and dance in the living room. I got to sleep over on movie nights. I had already been living out my fanfiction dreams to the tune of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift for the last several months, so what was a few more?

Actually, it was quite painful. I say this was a fake dating AU, but I think I was the only one being fooled—and maybe Sarah too on some level. We didn’t really mean for it to happen this way. I didn’t mean to be the person who couldn’t control her feelings, and Sarah didn’t mean to be the one who led me on. We were supposed to be having fun—and it was fun. Until it wasn’t.

See, holding back your own feelings can be miserable. It’s fun in the moment until you come home to an empty bed and know that nobody will be joining you. It’s fun until you’re reading into every text message and searching for a hidden meaning. Everything somehow felt perfectly aligned and all out of sorts at once.

When I decided I couldn’t take the wondering anymore, I asked Sarah for the chance to talk. She of course said yes, and so we agreed that we’d find some alone time at our next get-together. This happened to be our jazz night party, and Damn, did Sarah look good on jazz night.

We’d had themed parties before, but Sarah really outdid herself this time. She’d taken the lead on this party, and when I walked in I found the entire apartment transformed. The living room furniture had been pushed back to make room for dancing, and the kitchen cart was rolled in as a makeshift bar. The plush bench from the entryway sat in front of a strung-up tapestry as a photo station, and the flat screen was adorned with some sort of “jazz club ambience” from YouTube.

Sarah herself looked like something straight out of the Great Gatsby. I’ll spare you the details because I’m trying not to be too cringe-inducing here, but she was striking and perfectly on theme. I’m pretty sure I looked like a grunge gremlin in comparison, but that’s neither here nor there.

I told her how lovely she looked when I arrived, and truthfully I couldn’t tell if she was the one being awkward or I was. It could have been both, in hindsight, but considering how things went it doesn’t really matter.

It was difficult to focus on the absolute beauty of the party when my hands were trembling and all I could think of was the upcoming talk of be having with Sarah. I didn’t want to look at her too long in case everything went wrong and she didn’t want my eyes on her, but she also looked gorgeous and cool, and she was making us drinks like a real bartender. This was the time of her life, I could tell.

Everyone else was having a good time too. Katie and their partner were two peas in a pod. And Adam (third roommate, thus far unnamed) and his partner seemed pretty much in sappy, romance heaven. It hadn’t been a problem before, but suddenly I wasn’t sure where I fit into this unique equation.

When slow songs came on through the playlist, the couples wrapped their arms around each other and looked fondly into each other’s eyes. Sarah and I danced, but not too close, and I definitely couldn’t meet her eyes right now. It just didn’t feel the same.

We finally managed to get some privacy when the others went on a Taco Bell run. I mentally went over my talking points and tried to prepare myself for what seemed like the most predictable outcome. I would make sure that Sarah felt no pressure with me, because that truly was the last thing I wanted. I would also make my intentions clear—I’d love to go out on more dates with you and just see if there could ever be something between us. Easy as that. I didn’t expect that she would confess her true and undying love for me (I tried not to expect anything really), but a large part of me figured she would at the very least agree to a date or two for the sake of discovery, and maybe she’d even be excited about it. It just made sense to me.

But, even as I was beginning to express my feelings, I could tell the direction this was going. Sarah smiled and said she also felt like we probably needed to talk, and that I was really brave for bringing this up—braver than her, she said. What followed was the kindest, most gentle letting down of my life. Really, she couldn’t have handled that conversation any better.

There were a number of reasons for her decision to turn me down. For one thing, she didn’t want to risk our friendship. We were already so close, and as she’d expressed before, she didn’t want to rush into any serious relationships right now. 100% reasonable. And, it kind of did make sense. It would have been difficult not to become serious very quickly considering how close we were. On top of not wanting to risk our friendship and not wanting anything serious, I suspected that she simply didn’t feel the same way.

At the end of it all, Sarah asked me if I needed some space to process, or if I wanted her to step out of the apartment for a while. That’s right, Sarah literally volunteered to leave her own home during her own party to make me comfortable. I of course told her that was ridiculous and did my best to carry on normally. I wanted to be cool about it for both of our sake. Alas, I ended up making multiple trips to the bathroom for secret crying sessions, and eventually I ducked out early so that I could cry peacefully in my car—and my bed, and my shower, and everywhere else for the next few days.

Yikes. Funny how it hadn’t even hit me until that moment that I’d been making the very same dumb mistakes I read about all the time on AO3. I filled myself up with hope that wasn’t there and nearly ruined everything because of it.

I tried moving on without much luck. I tried remaining friends with moderate success. Perhaps that’s being too pessimistic. Honestly, my friendship with Sarah is stronger than ever. It’s just that almost two months after Jazz Night I finally had to have another talk with Sarah—one where I confessed how hurt I’d been over the whole ordeal. I apologized for my mishandling of the situation, and she apologized for hers. Honestly, we both had a good idea of what we’d been getting ourselves into at the start of it, but we did it anyway.

Am I over Sarah? Not if I’m being honest. But my priority has been and will always be protecting our friendship, and I think she’s on the same page as me there. I hang out with both her and Katie routinely, and I’m doing everything in my power to fix this. I don’t think it’s as big a deal for Sarah as it is me in that she doesn’t have to alter her feelings. I don’t want her to change her behavior either—because our amazing friendship is why I fell for her, she didn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.

So we’re carrying on. I guess this is an ongoing story, but the fake-dating part is over as are the fanfiction tropes that seem to have overtaken my life for a hot minute. I just thought it was so interesting—interesting enough to share I suppose.

(Honestly part of me things this would make a good story if I went back and documented these events in more detail—like, I dunno, multiple chapters or something idk. If anyone got this far and would be interested in that lemme know. It’s my real life but for once that’s actually quite interesting.)

[juleswolverton-hyde]

The Sword and Shield (BC x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Idol AU, Quarantine fiction

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Warnings: Innuendos, nerdy Pokémon talk.

Summary: Every warrior needs a sword and shield to defend themselves against enemies. However, two nerds take up weapons in a vastly different fight. 

Masterlist

Credits for the banner art go to Satzzz Art.

Life between the sheets does not always have to be characterized by Sensuality because there is more to be found among the pillows and blankets. It is amiable comfort, dozing off together to the sunrays streaming in through the light bedroom curtains or listening to music while sharing earbuds to kill the boredom of quarantine by means of occupying oneself with whatever is at hand. After all, it is yet unknown for how long the global population is forbidden to leave their homes safe for retrieving necessities at the supermarket or drugstore.

A blessing in disguise, however, is being able to spend the period of restriction with a bunch of lively lads which includes the lover of little more than a year. The moment it became known countries were hauling in their own residents a foolhardy decision was made to remain in South-Korea and leave the life in the place of origin behind for a while. The choice did not sit well with Chan at first, not too subtly asking to reconsider it though soon finding a secret delight in finally being able to wake up every day in the same bed.

No thousands of kilometres distance.

No time to be taken away by management and time zone differences.

The pandemic has at least given us this.

A taste of life as a real couple.

 Just before IKEA closed as well, the lovable human kangaroo insisted on going there for the last shopping spree so personal taste could be added to the bedroom that would be shared. The well-meant idea was rejected at first, saying it was not needed and that the interior was fine as it was. However, once bleached locks have set their mind to something, it is barely possible to change the focus of determination and thus the private shared space has been decorated with a few candles alongside a new bookcase to house whichever books were already taken from home as well as a few pieces of art and a collection of postcards that have been pinned on a metal grate.

Our perfect little nest.

A haven of comfort for songs and nerdy thoughts.

‘Hey, babygirl.’ The mattress dips as the human koala joins the small kingdom in the sheets of sweatpants and loose tops that are somehow still deemed charming. Even the surface beneath the minimal layer of makeup is apparently preferred by the strong arm wrapping around the waist as platinum locks rest on the head and watch the screen held between hands. ‘What’re you playing?’

‘Pokémon Sword. It’s really good thus far and- Oh my god, it’s so cute!’ In an instance, the screen is lifted to show the six adorable balls clad in armor, a new creature which is called a Falinks. ‘Look at these little buddies!’

A wide smile breaks out on plush lips, wavy locks shaking in closed-eyed amusement before looking up again with the wonder of a new discovery. ‘So that’s why you’ve been kicking the air or screaming something is cute. I didn’t know you were a Pokémon fan?’

‘I have been since I was little, but it’s not something I tell others about.’ The true meaning of the grin no longer passes under the radar, igniting an ember of shame for harbouring a geeky side when it comes to the Japanese creatures. ‘Yes, I know, I am a mega nerd. Bite me.’

The jaw clenched in timidity relaxes when slender fingers tickle the sides as a big nose presses into the side of the neck to nuzzle it. The comment was not meant to provoke although the lowered voice suggests otherwise as it speaks against skin, teeth even cheekily nibbling. ‘Watch your words, Y/N, or I just might.’

However, the sensuous attitude fades as fast as it appeared as irises the colour of pure chocolate wander back to the device. ‘Can I see your Pokémon?’

Because the girl in the sheets is not the only trainer beneath the roof. 

‘Sure.’ With the same nonchalance that denies the suggestiveness from a second ago, the index of the creatures which are currently being trained is opened. The current team consists of a Corviknight, Obstagoon, Thievul, Drapion, Boltund and Cinderace. ‘I’m currently training these though I mostly specialize in Dark Types.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ To get more comfortable, Chan slouches further down the bed to rest more properly on a beloved narrow shoulder. Nevertheless, the all-knowing grin from before remains plastered onto plush lips. ‘I suppose you’re also interested in training Ghost and Psychic types as well?’

‘I’m an open book, aren’t I?’

‘Just a little bit.’ The teasing is made up for with a chaste peck on the nose followed by one on the forehead. Just the way it is preferred and done whenever apologizing for something or to simply gain a smile. Withal, now, judging by the twinkle in mischievous eyes, it is definitely to say sorry in advance for what is to come. ‘Can you guess what my type is?’

‘Me?’

The witty response evokes the bubbly boyish laughter that has been loved ever since the first time it was heard. ‘You’re not wrong.’

‘Okay, okay, let me think.’ The scanning for clues on the face results in nothing except a brighter devilish glimmer in a loving look. Henceforth, the answer will have to based on personality and all the little things that have been discovered since being in a relationship and now prematurely living together. ‘Electric? Although, no, wait. Fire. Something tells me you at least have a Growlith or had but it has transformed into Arcanine. Then again, judging by that splendid performance of the theme song in your VLive, I’d also wager you have a Pikachu. However, you’re very sporty so maybe you specialize in Fighting types?’

‘You’re on the right track. The answer is somewhere in there.’ Instead of one mocking eyebrow, two rise in a failed attempt to exaggerate coyness while looking cool. ‘Or is it?’

‘Very helpful, Chris.’ Sarcastically disregarding the useless remark and lopsided smirk, the former ramble is composed into a somewhat solid answer. Anywhere close to the truth is better than nothing. ‘You’re a Fire trainer who is also interested in Fighting types.’

‘Almost. I’m a Dragon trainer who always starts out as a Fire trainer. I am, however, also interested in Fighting types too. I do have an Arcanine and Pikachu is an exception to the rule because it’s Pikachu. Every trainer should have one.’

‘I have one too, but it doesn’t have a name since it’s a female and I only name my male Pokémon.’

Focus shifts back to the screen, Chan reading the names of the amiable creatures that form the company on the journey to becoming the best. It started as a fun idea and the names matched fairly well. ‘So I’ve noticed. Are you associating everyone in the industry with a Pokémon?’

But nothing ever runs smoothly. 

‘I’m trying, but it’s bloody hard at times. I made Jackson a Pidove. Don’t laugh! I don’t know why I did it, but his name was the first to pop up when I caught it. Baekhyun is an Applin. Wait, he’s transformed already so now he’s a Flapple. Han is a Greedent because, let’s be honest, he’s a squirrel. Changbin, well, Bin is a Corviknight. I gave his full name to a Rufflet. Minho is a Sneasel, Felix a Thievul and I have yet to decide on the rest of the boys.’

‘Which one would be me?’ Judging by the suggestive tone of curious eyes and barely noticeable pout, there is the clear hope of a comparison with an awesome creature. The tightened grip on the hips betrays it too, blatantly so. Almost forcing the unknown comparison to one’s personal preference. 

‘Without a doubt, you are Zacian, the giant warrior wolf with a sword in its mouth.’ A deep sigh cannot be helped at the thought of the game’s challenge which does absolutely not allow for failure. ‘The legendary Pokémon of the Galar region. Dammit, Channie! Why do you have to be so elusive and exclusive?’

‘Because I’m an amazing catch.’ The cheek is turned by slender fingers, compelling lips to join in a playful giggly kiss which is broken up by a smug remark. ‘And warriors are not so easily bound to a master. You told me even Beowulf reluctantly helped a king, only to settle his father’s debt. 

‘Although,’ the train of thought is easily altered by hooking a digit under the silver necklace that was given as a birthday present, pulling the tease in yet holding off from melting into another kiss by backing away to continue the battle of wits and enjoy the small adorable whine of disagreement, ‘with the right trainer, I suppose I could make a deal.’

‘I plan on winning all gym badges and make myself worthy of the wolf.’

‘You will still have to win in that final fight. Until then, think you can take me on?’ Brows furrow in a suddenly hard-fought battle for concentrated control. Funnily contradicting oneself, the domestic koala shifts positions to hover over the coy soul who was able to tame the beast beneath the roof, faces inches apart and the Switch tucked in the small space between bodies.  

Which becomes noticeably narrower when transforming Innocence into Sensuality by creating the image of what might be given after testing out the waters of victory and win in a Pokémon battle. ‘I have more than enough times in this bed.’

To make up for the victory and erase any negative unspoken feelings. 

Though the soft growling suggests impatience, unwilling to be kept on a leash any longer. ‘Don’t change the subject. You’re fighting unfairly.’

‘Am I?’ The device is put aside on the bedside table, ankles hooking behind the waist to coax a hard shape into the warmth between the thighs as hands rest on broad shoulders. A much-appreciated action evidently, breath taken away by the friction between two concealed forms of wanting and nails digging into the skin beneath the comfy black printed fleece vest.

And the chest now making escape entirely impossible, hearts racing in harmony. ‘Yes. You’re distracting me.’

‘Says the person who’s distracting me from gaining those badges.’ Enough coherency lingers to remain cheeky. Bashful enough to lean in and utter a final double-sided statement of defiance. ‘I bet I can easily best you.’

But two can play that game, apparently. 

‘I think you’re wrong, babygirl. Or do I need to remind you of how good I am?’

‘Grab your Switch and bring it on.’ The challenge is accepted with a scoff which clearly started having different expectations in regards to the order of events. Fortunately, a sweet quick peck cures most of the shallow grumpiness as Chris is dismissed from the sheets. ‘And give me all you’ve got.’

‘Oh, I will. I always do.’

As became apparent in the few battles between teams.

The wolfish actions that followed unspoken hard feelings unhappy with the outcomes of the fights.

And a broken headboard in the morning.

[hailing-stars]

febuwhump day one: lost -small miracles 

read on ao3

A cursed song played.

It screeched out from a plastic wand, and, even more cursed, Tony was singing along to the princess toy. Not out loud, of course, just in his head. He knew all the words. Hell, he even knew all the dance moves, all the steps and swings Elsa took as she belted impossible notes while building her ice castle.

He would’ve blamed Morgan, but Tony suspected most of the blame fell on Peter’s shoulders. Just a day earlier, he’d been singing at the top of his lungs, dancing around in the jet, making Morgan giggle and Tony blast the volume on the classic rock pumping through the plane’s speakers.

He smiled at the memory. It was just a day old, but it didn’t make it any less good.

Tony looked down when Morgan started tugging at the bottom of his shirt. She stared up at him, eyes wide, with a face full of fake innocence, the kind that let Tony know she was about to ask for something, or rather, kept asking for something.

“Please dad.”

“Come on, Mr. Stark,” added Peter. His eyes were also wide, and his brown hair stuck up behind a pair of black Micky ears. “Please.”

“No.”

“But – “

“It’s bad enough that I paid fifty dollars for two pairs of glorified headbands,” said Tony. “I don’t need to make myself look like even more of a fool.”

“Aww, dad, you’re ruining the atmosphere,” Morgan chimed in. She continued yanking at the bottom of his shirt.  

Tony resisted the urge to mock the atmosphere. The thousand screaming kids, who carried souvenirs that played even more cursed songs.

“Yeah, Mr. Stark. Have some Disney spirit.”

He looked at the kids. His kids. They were both there, both alive and breathing and well. They both wore ridiculous mistakes of the fashion industry on their heads, and they both were pulling their most convincing puppy dog eyes. He only lasted just a couple seconds longer about caving and handing his credit card to the cashier.

A third pair of Micky ears cost him another twenty-five dollars and a rush of humiliation once he put them on over his head and walked out of the souvenir shop, but the grins on Peter and Morgan’s faces were a memory he’d always have.

“Looks like the weather needs to get in the Disney spirit,” said Tony, looking up and around at the clouds that had rolled in while they were in the shop.

The sky was grey. No trace of sunlight anywhere. A breeze blew through their hair, bring a chill with it, one that made any of the water attractions unthinkable.

The kids didn’t seem to notice, though. If they did, they didn’t care. Morgan was too busy naming all the Disney characters she wanted to meet, and Peter was too busy trying to find their location on the map as she listed them off.

Tony didn’t know if he should be concerned that most of the ones she wanted pictures with were villains. Later, he’d ask Pepper. Some SI emergency had her back in the hotel suit, dulling out her wisdom and orders via Skype.

“Ok, umm,” said Peter, sliding his finger across the map. “If we start here, we should be able to get pictures with all of them.”

“You sure, Pete?” asked Tony. “Meeting them all might take the day. This is your vacation, too.”

“It’s okay,” he said, with a smile. He folded up the map and slid it into his back pocket. “We still have tomorrow to see all the Star Wars stuff and go on rides.”

Morgan gave an excited little jump, and Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, wondering how he’d gotten lucky enough to have two perfect kids.

They spent the day taking pictures with Disney characters and going on the occasional ride, and ended it with room service in their suite, with Morgan showing off her pictures to Pepper. She painted gold sparkles on Peter’s Micky ears while she told her mom all about how the Evil Queen was really just misunderstood and while Peter texted Michelle.

Or, probably.

He was probably texting Michelle. He had that goofy smile on his face only she could be responsible for.

Tony smiled and put his metal arm around his wife. It didn’t really matter to him he was missing his real arm. After the war, after Thanos was destroyed and the lost were brought back, Tony had never felt so whole, so content.

He should have known it wouldn’t last forever.

*

Their second day at Disney World started the same as their first, right down to Pepper explaining that she’d be spending the day in the suite, once again, trying to put out fires at SI. She pushed him and the kids out the door, assuring him everything was fine and that he should enjoy the day, that there was nothing he could do.

“Alright,” said Tony, after Pepper pulled the door shut behind them. “What’s the plan today?”

“Star Wars,” was Peter’s immediate answer.

“Star Wars it is.”

“Yes!” Morgan leaped and did fighting poses as she glided down the hallway, towards the elevator. “I’m gonna get a lightsaber!”

“Volume, little miss,” Tony told her, looking around at all the closed hotel room doors. “And no hitting anybody with it, once you have it.”

“We’ll see!” said Morgan, in a sing-song voice. She darted into the elevator as the doors opened.

Peter laughed as he pressed the button to the lobby. “Don’t worry, Mo. We’ll have epic lightsaber battles on the plane ride home.”

“YEAH!”

Tony grunted, hoping to come off like he hated the idea when actually he didn’t mind it. Anything to prevent another sing-along, dance-along, that got yet another Disney song stuck in his head.

*

Peter’s head was buried behind the Disney map, only the Mickey Ears he still insisted on wearing were visible. He was the very definition of nerd then, at the moment, standing on a crowded path at Disney World, wearing a shirt that described various sounds of the weapons in Star Wars.

Tony hoped he never changed.

He could stay like that forever, seventeen and content to spend a week humoring his little sister, but Tony knew he wouldn’t. Time marched on, even now that everything was perfect, even now that Tony was retired and had nothing to look forward to except living in the moment, every moment, as they happened.

Peter closed the map. “It’s over that way… just let me run to the bathroom real fast, Mr. Stark.”

Come to think of it, that could change.

Peter could drop the formality and start calling him by his first name. It was a fool’s errand to even suggest it.

There were only a handful of occasions Peter slipped up and called him Tony, every one of them were he was distressed, like that time he was delirious with the flu, or the last time, after Tony had snapped Thanos and his army away and Peter had been sure Tony was dying.

Peter disappeared into the bathroom, and Tony grabbed Morgan’s hand and guided her towards a nearby bench, preventing her from running after some other kid who’d already gotten a lightsaber.

Five minutes passed. Tony checked the time on his phone, mentally cursing Peter’s questionable food choices.

Ten minutes passed and Tony’s leg started to bounce. He shouldn’t be worry. There was nothing to worry about, and even if Peter was on the floor of a bathroom stall, getting violently ill from something he ate, he wouldn’t appreciate being checked up on in the bathroom.

He pushed down his paranoid parental instinct, his nagging anxiety that something was wrong, or at least, he held it back as long as he could.

Fifteen minutes passed and Tony no longer cared what a seventeen-year-old would find embarrassing. He stood up from the bench, grabbed Morgan’s hand, and marched off towards the bathroom.

“Eww, no dad,” said Morgan, stopping when saw she was being tugged towards the men’s room. “Boys are gross, and they smell. I can’t go in there.”

A point was made, but Tony couldn’t stand the thought of letting go of one child when he was terrified something had happened to the other. He lifted her into his arms, told her put her head down in his shoulder and close her eyes, then walked into the men’s room, noting that Morgan had been right.

It did smell, despite being soul-crushingly empty, besides a kid standing at the sink washing his hands.

“Peter?” asked Tony, looking around.

There wasn’t a response. He didn’t know why he thought there would be. All the stall doors were open and there weren’t any feet visible under any of them.

“Hey,” said Tony, getting the kid’s attention. He turned off the facet and looked at Tony. “Seen a teenager in here? He had on some nerdy Star Wars shirt and Mickey ears?”

The boy shook his head and hurried out of the bathroom, forgetting to dry his dripping wet hands.

Tony’s heartbeat pumped through his ears. His eyes raced around the small bathroom, as his brain tried and failed to come up with explanations to where Peter could have gone. Panic and paranoia, along with the truth that Peter was too polite and considerate to simply run off without telling him, took over and dread twisted a tight knot his belly.

For the second time, Peter Parker had disappeared into thin air, and Tony had done nothing to prevent it.

*

Tony sat in a tiny, hot room, between two sweaty men who hadn’t bothered with deodorant. His legs were shoved under a tiny wooden table, his back was hunched forward, and his eyes were glued to the security monitor.

He watched as Peter left him and Morgan by a bench on a pathway and disappeared into the bathroom. After that, there was nothing. No sign of Peter leaving the bathroom, no sign of Peter at all. Tony sped up the footage, rewound and played it again, only to see it play out in the exact same way.

A low shakily breath escaped Tony and both his hands flew up to grip the table. Not again. This couldn’t be happening again. Not to Peter, not to his kid. Thanos was gone. The world was set right, or had been, up until the very Peter had wandered into the bathroom and didn’t come back out.

Tony’s world would never be okay with Peter Parker in it, even if the rest of the world spun on without a blip. That was the thing about saving the world, he supposed, it always needed saving.

There was always someone out there, waiting and watching and wanting to cause harm in one way or another. Whoever it was this time really messed with the wrong retired Avenger. They took the wrong kid.

He’d get him back. Tony couldn’t imagine a future where he didn’t get Peter back. The world, the universe, would simply cease to be.

Tony left the security guards in their sauna and set out to find Peter’s phone. A quick look at the tracking software on his own led him to the opposite side of the park, where he saw Peter’s cellphone in a patch of grass under a sign.

Carefully, he picked it up and rubbed his thumb over the freshly cracked screen.

“Really, kid? Again?” asked Tony. He examined the third phone Peter had ruined that month. “You’d think someone with sticky fingers would have a better grip.”

Peter laughed and shrugged. “Maybe I just like the aesthetic better that way.”

Tony blinked away the memory and shook his head, looking forward to finding Peter so he could buy him another phone and, probably, many more after that.

“Where are you, Pete?” asked Tony, as if he expected the phone might answer.

It didn’t, of course, and as the day wore on, Tony was beginning to worry he might never get his answer, might never had the chance to berate the boy about cellphone responsibility ever again.

At some point, Disney security notified the police, who arrived to take Tony’s statement and start a search party. It yielded nothing, except panic and chaos and concerned parents leaving the park early with fears that someone dangerous might be lurking about.

Pepper called May and Happy, and Tony put out a distress call to the Avengers, though he refused to go back up to the suite with Pepper and Morgan to sit around and wait.

Instead he wandered around the darkened, abandoned Disney pathways, clutching Peter’s broken phone in a tight fist and wishing the day had ended the way it had been supposed to end, with epic lightsaber duels and laughing.

Now all he had were echoes of what was supposed to be.

*

Disney World was eerie at night.

Tony couldn’t quite pinpoint why, exactly. Most likely it was a combination of things. The silence, the lack of little kids with capes and princess wands running around, screaming, the lack of his own family surrounding him.

It was dark and empty and cold, devoid of any charm or warmth.

It reminded Tony of the way the world looked and felt after he’d made it back from space and witnessed the greater devastation Thanos’ snap had caused. Maybe that was just him, though. Maybe that was just the effect of Peter Parker’s mysterious absence had on his onlook.

That’s what kept him going, kept him searching. Peter had to be out there somewhere. Tony wouldn’t consider any other option.

He shook his head and checked his watch, muttering under his breath about the Avengers being so late. Cap had turned into an old man and suddenly everyone else became slow.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony startled, and jerked his eyes away from his watch. He looked around but didn’t see anything.

“Mr. Stark! Up h-here!” Peter’s cry was desperate and panicked but filled kindled warmth within Tony’s chest. He found him. He found his boy and he was alive.

He looked up and spotted Peter hanging off the edge of a ride, clinging to its tracks. His legs wiggled around in the air as he struggled to keep his grip.

“Pete,” yelled Tony, frowning. Something was off. “Stop struggling, just stick and climb down.”

“I c-can’t,” said Peter. “Please, Mr. Stark, you have to help me. I don’t know – I don’t know what’s happening, my powers – I lost th – I can’t – “

Tony rushed forward when Peter’s fingers slipped off the metal and he dropped to the ground below. His head smacked against the concrete and blood oozed out from his forehead, matting his hair together

Tony rushed forward, but before he could get there, before he could even think about calling a suit, Peter’s fingers slipped off the metal track and he dropped to the concrete below. Peter’s head smacked against the ground and blood oozed out from his forehead, matting his hair together and stabbing at Tony’s heart.

“Peter, oh god, Pete!” Tony sunk to the ground near Peter’s limp body. He stretched out a hand, needing to provide some sort of comfort, needing to provide his kid with something, but was stopped dead when Peter fixed him with an empty, sad stare.

“Too late, Mr. Stark,” he croaked out. Blood continued to pour out from his head. “Why are you always too late?”

His eyes fluttered close. His chest stopped moving, then, just like that, his lifeless body faded away and nothing was left of Peter Parker. Not ashes, not even his blood. Tony pressed his palm up against the concrete where it had been stained red. His hand came back clean.

He stared at it, flexing his palm, in utter confusion and shock, until the edges of his vision started to blur. The Disney pathways, the rides, all the bright colors, disappeared and it was just Tony, sitting in a sea of blackness.

Slowly and carefully, he stood and looked around at all the nothing, the darkness that stretched as far as he could see.

The sound of Peter screaming broke the silence.

Tony broke into a run. His feet propelled him forward through the black, towards the gut-wrenching sounds of Peter’s pained, desperate cries. Eventually Tony came upon a light, which turned into, once he got closer, a room with a large, glass window.

Inside the room Peter was strapped down on a medical, while men in white coats hovered around him, poking him with needles.

“Hey! Let him go!” Tony yelled. Nobody seemed to hear him. He took a step forward, ready to beat his fist against the glass until it broke, but an eerily familiar voice stopped him.

“Stark.” The man who seemingly appeared out of nowhere sounded like Ross. Though his face was still familiar, Tony couldn’t place it. “No use trying to save him now.”

Tony redirected his attention into the room. Peter had stopped screaming. Whatever they had been injecting him with had killed him.

“Don’t look so shocked,” said the man. “Did you really think you could hide him from me forever?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off Peter’s dead body. He couldn’t make his mouth form words.

“Did you really think this all this would end any other way than his death?”

Tony swung his fist into the glass and it went straight through. The glass dissolved into nothing, into the darkness, at his touch, along with anything else. Gone was Ross-voiced man, gone was the white-coated scientists, gone was Peter’s corpse…

Then, once again, it was just Tony and the black. There was no screaming that time, just silence. No running, now that Tony didn’t have a reason to move.

That didn’t matter, though. The trouble came to him instead.

Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson appeared out of the darkness. In Bucky’s arms, limp and lifeless, was Spider-Man sans mask.

“We’re sorry, man,” Sam told Tony. “There was nothing we could do.”

“That’s bullshit,” the words fell from Tony’s mouth, but it was as if someone else were saying them, as if he were watching from someone else above. “You were supposed to watch out for him! You were supposed to keep him safe!”

“Oh, please, Stark.”

Tony turned and he was in the Parker living room, only dimmer and less inviting. May Parker stood in front of him, glaring at him.

“Like you should talk,” said May. “You killed him the day you walked into his apartment and recruited him for your little war. He’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you dragging him into it. I hope you’re proud of yourself, Mr. Stark.”

She grabbed an ern, Peter’s ern Tony realized, and walked towards him. “Take him. You had no problem taking him from me when he was alive.”

May shoved the ern into Tony’s arms, but at contact, it turned to dust and slipped through his fingers, the same way Peter had slipped through his fingers back on Titan.

May and her apartment faded away and Tony was thrown back into the darkness.

It wasn’t all black that time, at least not for very long, as Tony was assaulted with flashes of his worst nightmare over and over again. Peter in a dark alleyway getting stabbed through the stomach. Peter getting crushed by a building. Peter getting electrocuted until his face was blue and foam bubbled from his mouth.

Peter drowning in a cold lake, pounding on the ice that separated them, and staring up at Tony with pleading eyes, begging for his help. Tony didn’t move. He didn’t stomp on the ice or try getting him out. It didn’t matter what Tony did.

The story ended the same each time, with Peter’s death.

Peter went still, sunk away from the ice and disappeared into the water’s depths. His hand was still, too, but it remained outstretched, as if he were still waiting for Tony to grab onto him and lift him to safety.

Tony watched him float away, until he couldn’t see him anymore, until he was staring at s concrete Disney pathway that had once been red with Peter’s blood.

He breathed hard and looked around, wondering what the hell kind of acid trip he’d just lived through. His brained race with just one thought. Peter. Was he alive, or dead? He needed to see him, touch him.

He needed to know he was still breathing. That he was real.

“Daddy?”

Tony turned and saw Morgan standing still behind him, watching him. Her hair was crumpled and caked with dried blood.

“Morgan?” asked Tony. His voice had a shake. “What happened to you? Where’s mom?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. Just a stare, one Tony had always feared he’d receive from Morgan. She looked at him the same way he’d learned to look at his own father as a boy.  

“Why didn’t you save him?” she asked. “Why do you keep letting him die?”

“Morgan – “

“You let Peter die! You killed Peter!” she yelled. She turned, and ran, forcing Tony to run after her.

He followed her off the main pathways and through some grass. She finally stopped her sprint when she got to the edge of a body of water. She turned around and Tony reached out his hand, only for her to turn into dust and blow away with a breeze.

Water from the lake ran over Tony’s shoes, bring with it a pair of Mickey ears he was compelled to pick up. As he examined them and the gold fingernail polish painted onto them, gears turned behind his eyes.

He thought back to the Ross-voiced man with a familiar face, finally realizing how he recognized him. He pulled his phone from his pocket, keeping his eyes on the abandoned building across the lake, and dialed Pepper.

She answered on the first ring.

“Tony – “

“Is Morgan with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” she told him. “Where else would she be?”

Tony felt a warm blanket of relief cover his body. “Tell me what’s going on a SI.”

“Right now?” asked Pepper. She sounded surprised, but went on anyway. “Someone broke in, stole some technology. We’ve been trying to figure out how they breached security and track down what’s missing.”

“What technology?” he asked, though he thought he probably already knew.

“BARF.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Tony hang up before Pepper could say anything else. He didn’t have the time to waste. He had a deranged man to bury and a son to rescue.

*

“Come on, Mr. Stark, hurry up,” muttered Peter, twisting his wrist around in the handcuffs that had them locked together. His skin was red and itchy underneath, and that bothered him more than the glass cage he was locked in.

He stretched out his legs and gave the glass a good, strong kick. It didn’t break. Not even a little bit, not even by a tiny crack. Without thinking, he tried, not for the first time, to pull his hands apart, only to growl in frustration and drop his hands into his lap.

This whole thing, this whole being handcuffed and locked away in a dark, damp building, wasn’t how Peter wanted to spend his day. Plus it was dramatic. It was overkill and a little redundant.

Mysterio – as Peter had nicknamed him – had only rolled his eyes and chuckled a little after he’d told himself, after he’d asked him to either let him out of the glass prison or loosen the handcuffs.

He supposed dramatic and overkill were good ways to describe his captor. He wore a costume as if he were an actor on the set of a CGI heavy movie, and he spoke like there was an audience watching.

Regardless, Peter popped his head up when Mysterio strode back into the room.

“Hey, you’re back,” said Peter. He scrambled to his feet, stumbled around a little bit as the task of standing was made difficult with complete use of his hands, and stood at the edge of his cage. “You didn’t bring me any food? That’s rude.”  

A strange, unsettling smirk split Mysterio’s face as he stopped, turned, and slowly approached. “You know, you’re a good kid, Peter. I almost feel bad about this.”

“You know,” said Peter. “I’ve actually heard that one before. It’s a little cliché.”

“It’s just too bad you got mixed up with someone like Tony Stark,” Mysterio told him. His voice squeaked as he struggled to turn an oversized facet.  

“Too bad for you, actually,” Peter frowned, both unimpressed by his complete lack of physical strength and trying to figure out what it was he was attempting to do. Peter had a bad feeling, but he also had Mr. Stark’s words of advice floating around in his head, given in case he ever found himself in a situation like this one.

Keep them talking. Distract and stall.

“I feel sorry for you.”

Mysterio stopped his struggle, looked back at Peter, and snorted. “Why? Because the self-destructing cycle of revenge only leads to the dark side?”

A villain making fun of his shirt. That was a first, but Mysterio wasn’t technically wrong.

His vendetta against Mr. Stark was both insane and self-destructive and couldn’t end well for him. It was embarrassing sometimes, the extremes Mr. Stark would go to when someone was threatening his kids, though Peter was thankful for it during times like these.

“No,” said Peter. “Because Mr. Stark’s going to beat the shit out of you.”

“Maybe,” said Mysterio. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“You’re pretty confident for a guy who can’t turn… whatever it is you’re trying to turn.”

Mysterio chuckled, his hand still on the oversized facet. “Imagine Peter, seeing your loved die over and over again and not doing anything to stop it. Imagine what it might do to a person and the guilt they’d feel knowing they did nothing to save them… guilt like that, it’d ruin a man, or at least, a man like Tony Stark.”

The facet groaned when Mysterio finally gathered up enough strength to turn it and Peter felt the floor beneath him shake. Water seeped in from the slits on the floor, quickly covering the area of the glass cage and soaking into Peter’s shoes.

A shiver went through him, and Peter was about complain at Mysterio, about to tell him he could’ve at least used room temperature water if he was going to try and drown him, but he was cut off by a deafening boom. Wood shattered on the wall to the left of them, and Mr. Stark stepped into the room.

His regular hand, the one that wasn’t metal, was covered in armor. The gauntlet water, Peter guessed.

“Mr. Stark…” said Peter, his voice both filled with relief and with a tremor. The water was rising fast, so cold that it stabbed at Peter’s legs like knives. “Perfect timing.”

Mr. Stark didn’t acknowledge him. Instead, he stared straight at Mysterio.

“Hi crazy eyes,” greeted Mr. Stark. “Having fun with my tech?”

“It’s – “

Mr. Stark waved a hand at him. “Know what? No. Whatever you have to said isn’t anything we all haven’t heard before. You can cut your villain monologue shit too, just tell me where my kid is so I can blast you into that wall.”

“He’s right there,” said Mysterio. He pointed to the cage, to Peter, but Mr. Stark refused to look.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter, a second time. It didn’t change anything. Mr. Stark kept his eyes on Mysterio, and for the first time that day, Peter started to worry. His legs were numb, the water had risen to his waist.

“Not falling for it,” said Mr. Stark. “Where’s Peter? Don’t make me ask again. You’ll regret it.” Mr. Stark paused, amended. “Well let’s face you’re going to regret this either way.”

“It’s m-me,” said Peter, quietly, his teeth chattering. Either of the men in the room heard him, and he doubted it would matter if they did.  

He wracked his brain for something, anything, like some sort of secret passage word Mr. Stark would understand, would have to realize he wasn’t an imposter. It was hard to think, though, with the water knifing him, with his breath coming so fast.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted that time, he ignored the ache in his wrists and brought both hands up against the glass. It didn’t break. “It’s me, it’s Peter, help!”

Finally, at last, Mr. stark spared him a look, but the relief Peter felt was short-lived. It died out when he saw the look in his eyes. Mr. Stark had never looked at him that way before. Not even during the regrettable ferry incident. Like he was scum. Worse than scum. Like he was Mysterio.  

The stare had been colder than the water. Peter went still, went quiet, and Mr. Stark looked back at Mysterio. The water rose up to the bottom of Peter’s neck.

“If that were really Peter,” said Mr. Stark, taking steps closer to Mysterio, who started to back up. “He’d broken that glass to bits.”

“I can’t!” Peter shouted. Mr. Stark ignored him. “I c-can’t! I - I lost my powers!”

“That’s a nice try, Beck. A+ for the dramatics, but word of advice, never try to pull the same trick twice.”

Peter gave the glass a kick as the water hit his chin, kicked it again when his nose went under, and a third time when he was completely submerged.

He opened his eyes under the water. Mr. Stark had a hold of Mysterio’s shirt and punched him across his face with the prosthetic hand. At least Peter had been right about one thing. Mysterio would be very lucky to leave Disney World with all his teeth.

It didn’t seem to matter, though.

Peter was dying, drowning, with Mr. Stark standing just a few feet away, and it didn’t matter how many punches, how badly he beat Mysterio, Peter knew if he died, died this way, it’d be a blow Mr. Stark might never recover from.

He’d be wrecked with guilt, just as Mysterio said, and Peter wasn’t going to let that happen.

He pushed up off the floor, as hard as he could, and thrust his head above the water.

“T-tony!” Peter managed to yell out, water spilling into his mouth as he sunk back down.

Mr. Stark whirled around. His eyes went wide when he looked at him, really looked at him, with warmth and worry. His eyes were completely absent of the previous coldness. He dropped Mysterio, who hit the ground hard, stretched out his arm and pointed his palm at the glass cage.

There was a beam light, then Peter was sliding down to the floor with the water. Shards of glass landed around him and Mr. Stark ran towards him. He immediately pulled Peter up into his arms, covering the side of Peter’s head with his hand and slamming it up against his chest.

Peter relished the warmth he stole from Mr. Stark and the air traveling freely through his lungs.

“God, kid,” said Mr. Stark. He swiped a mop of freezing, wet hair from Peter’s forehead, as he shivered under his arms. “I’m sorry. I – I didn’t think you were real.”

“’t’s ‘kay,” said Peter, still breathing hard as he tried to speak. “You got me, I’m okay.”

He’d hoped his words might comfort him, but Mr. Stark shushed him and told him to focus on getting good breaths. He got a few more breaths in before repeating himself again, attempting to calm Mr. Stark’s heart as it hammered away in his chest.

“It’s alright,” Peter breathed. “I’m real, you got me.”  

*

Tony walked into Peter’s room, carrying a plate full of corndogs and an entire bottle of mustard.

Peter had been standing by the window, but when he turned and saw he was coming, he scurried back to his bed and under the heated blanket, as if he thought doing it quickly would change the fact that Tony saw him at all.

“I had one condition for not taking you straight to the hospital,” Tony told him. “One.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Mr. Stark, I’m fine.”

It was truer than it wasn’t. Peter was fine. His powers were back. He was breathing and warm and real, but it was Tony’s job to make sure it stayed that way. That Peter stayed under his blankets and fully recovered in time to enjoy Star Wars in the morning.

The same couldn’t be said about Quentin Beck. He’d been carted onto the Quinjet after the Avengers decided to show up and was probably, at least Tony hoped, locked away on the raft.

“We really gotta move past this Mr. Stark business,” said Tony. He sat down on the edge of the bed and watched Peter shift around under the covers, trying to get comfortable.

“But then we’d have to think of another password.”

Tony handed him the plate and the bottle of mustard. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll be easy enough. Something like ‘corndogs are disgusting.’”

“That’s uncalled for,” said Peter. He squeezed an ungodly amount of mustard all over his food, then had the audacity to lift one up by the stick and put it in Tony’s face. “Wanna try one?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re missing out,” he told him, as he chomped down on the corndog Tony rejected. “It’s tradition. I always have corndogs after I almost die, or a mission goes wrong.”

Almost dying shouldn’t be normal for him, should not in any way have its own traditions, and yet, it was and it did.

That wasn’t Tony’s fault. He may have recruited him into the Avenger’s, but he hadn’t been there when Peter decided to put on his pajamas and fight crime in his backyard.

All it took for him to realize how ridiculous it was to think Peter would ever do anything than try to world the world, or at least his neighborhood, was a series of illusions from a deranged, pretend wizard.

“We need to get you a more sophisticated palate.”

“What like cheeseburgers?”

“Hey,” said Tony. He gave Peter’s shoulder a little push, needing to feel that he was real, that he was really there. “Don’t knock the classics.”

Peter laughed and threw an empty corndog stick at him.  

“I changed my mind,” said Tony. “No Star Wars tomorrow.”

Peter only laughed again in response. He damn well knew Tony would keep his promise and take him to the Star Wars part of the park. That he would take him anywhere if only he asked. He supposed that was his problem now. Two spoiled kids, two miracles, and a long retirement with plenty of time to spoil them.

*

When morning came, Peter was as good as new and spent their entire breakfaster together fidgeting around, rushing everyone and playing on his phone.

Tony couldn’t say he blamed him for being angsty. One day in a glass cage, missing out on the Star Wars adventure he’d been promised, would make anyone eager to start the day.

They made up for it, though, eventually.

They saw everything, rode every ride. Tony and Pepper were forced to sit behind the kids on most rides, unless they wanted Morgan to loudly call them out when they were being what she considered gross and exchanging kisses.

Tony liked it better that way. He got to watch his kids, watch Morgan smile, laugh, scream and cling to Peter. He got to watch and listen to Peter console her during the few moments she was afraid.

“Don’t worry, Mo,” he told her, as the cart crawled up the hill. “I’m sticky. I can’t let you go.”

When the cart, dropped, sped down the incline, all Tony saw in front of him was Peter’s curls, thicker and wilder in the Florida humidity, blowing through the air.

It was a good day, a perfect day. One to erase all the panic and chaos and anxiety of the day that had come before, as if it’d never happened. As if it was all one big illusion, like a nightmare they woke up from and forgotten by breakfast.

The day ended with buying Morgan a lightsaber and watching her go through the Jedi Academy. Tony stood off to the side, with Peter, and with the other parents, with his phone ready to record Morgan’s duel with Darth Vader, but that wasn’t how it played out.

Instead of hitting Darth Vader with the lightsaber, Morgan kneeled down and declared her allegiance to the dark side of the force. She was meet with a roar laughing and cheering and clapping from the onlookers.

Tony kept his phone steady and pointed at Morgan, but turned his body towards Pepper and asked, “Should we be worried about her?”

“She’s your daughter,” said Pepper. “We should always be worried about her.”

Peter erupted into laughter and bothered Tony the rest of the day to send the video to his phone, so he could text it to MJ and Ned.

That day was supposed to be where the vacation ended, but like everything else, that hadn’t gone according to plan, either. Peter was to blame. He forced them all to watch Harry Potter in the hotel room, and the next thing Tony knew, he was buying tickets to Universal and standing in a Wizard’s clothing store, pretending to be a sorting hat.

“Peter is without a doubt a Hufflepuff,” he said, yanking a pair of Hufflepuff house robes off a rack, and seeing as how there was no other option for a boy like Peter, he accepted with a smile and a nod.

Tony sorted Pepper into Ravenclaw and himself in Gryffindor, leaving just the youngest. His hand hovered between shelves, then moved towards a set of Slytherin children’s robes.

“You went to the dark side,” Tony told Morgan, dropping the robes into her hands. “You’re getting green.”

“Aw, dad,” said Morgan. “I only went to the dark side so Vader would let his guard down around me and then I could wait until he fell asleep and chop him up with my lightsaber.”

Tony, Pepper and Peter paused, the three of them trading looks.

“…ok,” said Tony, after a beat. He clapped his hands together. “You’re still getting the green.”

Morgan shrugged. “MJ always says you gotta keep your enemies close.”

“That doesn’t say great things about your relationship, kid.” Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder and headed towards the check-out counter.

“Guess what dad?” asked Morgan. She did an excited jump and didn’t wait for him to guess. “Peter and MJ kiss!”

“Morgan!” whined Peter.

“Oh really?” asked Tony, giving Peter a smirk, watching his ears go pink.

“Yeah! I saw them during Aunt May and Uncle Happy’s wedding, behind Gerald’s house. They gave me candy to go away and keep it a secret.”

“Which technically you should give back now!”

“Too late,” said Morgan. “Already gone.”

Peter growled under his breath and Tony put his arm around him. “Relax kid, everyone already knows you two kiss. Even Gerald.”

Tony paid for their robes, which they all put on immediately, before heading out of the shop and into the cobblestoned streets of Diagon Alley. Tony stretched his arm around Peter, while he continued to grumble about lack of privacy and snitches while Morgan mocked him.  

It was another beautiful day, a perfect day to be dressed like a wizard with his family, and the future stretched on with the promise of many more.