#this piece is surprisingly funny considering i only wrote it

[theroseempress]

here have a random snippet that amused me

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

Maybe, Shinichiro with a s/o that is friendly but a bit of an air-head. S/O is 5 years younger than Shinichiro (if this part makes you uncomfortable you may skip it. OF COURSE DO THIS IN THE ADULT TIMELINE WHERE THEY ARE BOTH ADULTS). S/O used to be a gang leader, when she first told Shinichiro about it, he kinda freaked out, warning her about the dangers of gang world but s/o just told him to trust her. S/O is considered pretty, she has heart shaped face and small waist. When she was in high school, she rejected 20 love confessions, her reason? In s/o's words, she didn't understand romantic love (andshealsodidn'tfeelthesameasherpretenders), to the point she was even called a heartbreaker, despite her just being honest about what she felt 🥲. If you need height, s/o is 1.74

Oh, and s/o gets along pretty well with Manjiro and Emma. She came from an orphan center as well. (She lives with her best friend whom she calls a 'sister'). She surprisingly has 'innocent feelings as well (ex. Shinichiro once went to buy an earring pair but he got into an accident that left him in a hospital for a few days, when he came back to s/o with the earrings, s/o saw the injuries, then she cried "I don't want this! I don't want you to be hurt because of me!" 😭. Shinichiro upon seeing this was surprised but mostly moved.)

Gang Activity {Shinichiro Sano}

A/n: thanks for requesting but seriously, I didn't need that much of a detail because you almost wrote the piece yourself. That being said I didn't quite catch what the plot you wanted me to write was because I kind of got lost in the details you mentioned. And also yeah the details were pretty much useless because I don't include descriptions. I made the reader to be around the same age as Shin in the first timeline so about 22 or 23. Anyways, hope you like it.

Pairing: Shinichiro x fem!reader

Trigger Warnings: MANGA SPOILERS

“Shit's not good for your lungs Shin.” You hugged Shinichiro and he returned the gesture by placing a kiss on your cheek. 

  “Ugh I could get used to this.” He exclaimed, throwing his head back to look at you rolling your eyes. A devilish smile was plastered on his face, a triumphant look in his eyes celebrating the way he had actually avoided your comment. But had he really? No, you loved pestering him about him smoking habits and he loved it as well.

  “Listen, I really didn't want to do this but here I go.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I told Manjiro and Emma about you moving in and um… Manjiro wanted to help with the whole process… so he… he wants to carry your things with his friends.” A sigh escaped Shinichiro's lips. 

  “I don't mind really.” 

  Mikey was for sure trying his luck on you, something that Shinichiro despised, to say the least, so having him help you move out of the apartment you shared with your best friend was the worst case scenario according to him.  

  It was funny seeing him being jealous of his brother however. During your first days together, you had concluded that his innocent jealousy was only because he had never had a girlfriend before so he didn’t know how to act but later on you found it was more than that.

  “He is literally twelve, relax.” You giggled. “That's how boys his age act.” It was a desperate attempt on your side to relax your nerves as well and Shinichiro knew that.

You had been honest with him, had told him all about you coming from an orphanage and the difficult years you spent there and he had been more than understanding. But while he could understand how difficult living without any parents was since he had lost his own parents too, what he couldn't quite understand was the fact that you couldn't seperate your best friend that easily.

The two of you living together had only been a natural progress since you now spent most nights at his place rather than your own and even though you had been quite hesitant to accept, you did it because you knew that someday it would happen. You couldn't live with your best friend forever no matter how much you wanted to.

Not surprisingly enough, your best friend had been way more excited than you. In her words it was about time you actually did something for yourself and not for someone else.     

Mikey and his friends came to the shop right after school ended, one hour after yout arrival at Shinichiro’s shop, and by the way the young Sano boy had walked in, you figured out that there had been some kind of stupid argument between the two brothers. Mikey shook his head and introduced you to his friends: Baji, Haruchiyo and Senju, Haruchiyo’s little sister. 

It wasn't long until you found out that they were just as chaotic as Mikey was so it was no surprise that Shinichiro had almost emptied not only his pack of cigarettes but also a small bottle with aspirins by the time you left. 

  “Go and pack your stuff and take whatever you guys can with you. I'll come for the heavier things in like half an hour from now.” Shinichiro had said.   

  “Thank you guys for offering to help me, it means a lot.” You told them once you were alone. You couldn't tell how you managed to be more anxious around four little kids than every other adult you had ever met. It was silly, really, given the reputation you had. But of course, no one knew that yet.

  “It's our pleasure.” Haru smiled and Baji with Mikey aggressively nodded their heads in affirmation. Senju was holding her older brother’s hand, not really talking throughout the entire walk back to your house. 

  “Okay this is how it will go: I'll take my guitar along with two boxes and the rest of you can take this small suitcase with some of my clothes, okay?” 

  It wasn’t okay. They protested because they didn’t want to let you carry both your guitar and the two boxes all alone and so you ended up agreeing on you taking just one box, Mikey and Baji the other two boxes, Haru the small suitcase and Senju a bag with your jewellery. Obviously you didn’t give them any heavy things and they were so excited that they never noticed you taking your guitar even though you had promised not to. 

  “Say Y/n.” Baji spoke while you were all walking towards Mikey's house. You noticed his eyes were glued on the insides of the box he was carrying. “Were you in some sort of gang?” The rest of the kids abruptly stopped walking and turned around to look at you. 

  “I was the leader actually.”

  And yes that was the reputation you have been talking about. It wasn’t much to be honest and it had gotten you in trouble many times but you were proud of it.  

  Everyone seemed to be in awe and suddenly they became even more energetic, saying how amazing and cool you were. If you hadn’t stopped them, they would have set the boxes on the street just to take a look at the box in Baji’s hands. 

  “Y/n, you know how to fight, right?” Baji asked you. You had reached Mikey’s house by that time and were catching your breath, getting ready to leave again.  

  “I do.” 

  “Amazing!” Haru and Senju said in sync.

  “Big bro doesn't know shit about fighting and he always got beaten up even though he was the leader.” Mikey rolled his eyes. 

  “Why are we suddenly talking about gangs?” Shinichiro took the box you had forgotten to set down and placed it on the floor of his room. 

  “Y/n was in one.” Mikey said and Shinichiro's eyes widened at the sound of this new information. He looked at you and then at the box Baji had opened which contained your gang uniform and some pictures you had taken with the founder members. There was also one box back in your apartment that contained the gifts that the members had given you the day you disbanded the gang. 

  “I…” Shinichiro was at a loss for words. You already knew what he was going to say as if he hadn't been a member of a gang himself. "You know that shit is dangerous, right?"

"So? I was really good at it, you know?" You waved him off and picked up the box Baji had been carrying. “This contains meetings, fights and general hangouts with the gang. One of the founding members was aiming to become a filmmaker therefore he was filming everything. If you guys are interested, you can watch it.” You handed the cassette to Mikey and almost immediately he and his friends went to the living room. “Shin?” you reached out to your boyfriend once the kids left. 

  “How can you get even more amazing as the days pass?” He smiled and patted your head, bringing you close for a hug. “Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked."

[the-english-student-studyblr]

Book Recommendations (from a lit grad student)

So, as I have come to the end of my MA in world lit, I thought I should give you a list of some of the best books I've read, or learnt from. I ignore established canon and give to you recommendations from across the globe and across all genres. Books that defined their genre, or made an impact, or are just really cool and enjoyable to read. This list is not all dead white men.

I have split the list by era/year of publication primarily for easy reading. A lot of the sections are arbitrary. Some of them are not.

Note: This list is not conclusive! This is based on my own readings, and my own, personal, opinions. You have the right to your own opinions and preferences. If you have any suggestions, add them on below.

Classic lit (pre-1700)

Aristole - Poetics (c. 335 BCE)

As much as I hate it...this one is actually pretty important. I know I said 'contributions to literary canon don't matter', and here I am, immediately doing the opposite. But! Aristotle's Poetics is the earliest treatise on literary theory that has survived to the modern day. You want to know where our ideas of comedy and tragedy come from? Poetics. Three act structure? Poetics. Plot and character? Poetics. Key terms like catharsis, hubris, hamartia? Poetics. We had to read this for creative writing, and did I hate it? Yes. Am I a better writer for having read it? Also yes

Plato - The Republic (c. 375 BCE)

Plato is quite easy to read, of the classical philosophers. His works are mostly dialogues between characters, which makes them more engaging that some other dry philosophy texts. I wrote out a longer post with an explanation of Plato's Republic specifically here.

Genji Monogatari (pre-1021)

The first novel ever! Originally written in Japanese, be careful of your translations because most are of questionable quality. I've only read the first one by Suematsu and that's uhhhhh Bad™ but I think the current waterstones edition is decent?

The Völsunga saga OR The Vinland sagas (early 13th century)

Ah, how to choose just one Norse saga? These are both pretty solid examples of their style, and short (always a plus). The Völsunga saga was the inspiration behind Wagner's Der Ring des Nibelungen (famous for the piece The Valkyrie), and most likely Tolkien's works. The Vinland sagas supposedly have an anime/manga series inspired by them, though looking at the synopsis I cannot see where the inspiration was other than time period. Norse sagas - especially the Icelandic ones such as Vinland - are actually pretty good guides to real historic events, which is very cool. I could go on for hours about this, but I'll spare you the rambling.

Thomas More - Utopia (1516)

Lovely little sarcastic book about tudor politics and human nature all wrapped up in the original 'utopian text'. Surprisingly funny for something written so long ago, and very easy to read. I wrote a longer post about it here

Aphra Behn - Oroonoko (1688)

Hated it, but the themes are interesting and wow did the author lead an interesting life. Widely considered to be the first novel written in English, deals with colonialism, slavery, and honour, and Aphra Behn was a spy? I'm sure some of you will eat that up. Be warned, very 'noble savage'-y book, but less racist than it could've been so cool, I guess?

Early Modern Drama

Christopher Marlowe - Edward II (1592)

Gay. So gay. We're not supposed to call it gay (because of a whole host of reasons that I can and will explain if anyone shows up in my askbox complaining about academics) but it is a very very queer play and Kit Marlowe was too which is even better. Also our one and only history play on this list. Anyone who already knows how Edward II died (thanks horrible histories) do not spoil the ending.

Shakespeare - Twelfth Night (1602)

As with any Shakespeare, watch a performance if you can. I highly recommend the National Theatre version that was up on youtube in 2020. Very gay, no one is cishet. Lots of singing and dancing. Prime example of Shakespeare's comedies with added gender shenanigans.

Shakespeare - Hamlet (1609)

Yes I'm basic. Yes I like Hamlet. In the same way that Twelfth Night is a great example of Shakespeare's comedies, Hamlet is a good example of his tragedies. Mostly, though, I'm recommending this because the castle it's set in in Denmark (Elsinore) a) actually exists and b) does an amazing educational programme, with live actors performing scenes all across the castle! Watching the 'to be or not to be' soliloquy in the banquet hall just adds a whole other level to the experience of reading the play.

Shakespeare - Measure for Measure OR The Tempest

Shakespeare's problem plays. I couldn't pick just one, because they're both fantastic in different ways. Measure for Measure features what can only be described as the early-modern version of an ace protagonist - Isabella - who I adore. The Tempest has a really interesting portrayal of early colonialism and slavery. The reason they are 'problem plays' is they check all the boxes for a comedy...but they're not funny. At all. And they also check some of the boxes for a tragedy. They're certainly interesting reading

Ben Jonson - The Alchemist (1610)

Just a really good, solid play. Very funny. Bunch of con artists set up an elaborate scheme to rob rich people. Also very good for showing class structures of the time. Shakespeare gets all the recognition for this era but Jonson is just as good really, and definitely as clever.

Regency and Victorian lit (1700-1900)

Jane Austen

Literally anything by Austen. She is just so funny, so witty, and I wholeheartedly believe she'd be a feminist today. Master of the female gaze in literature, but beyond that she is basically credited with the invention of free indirect discourse, which is super cool. I have only read Pride and Prejudice, but I have heard good things about most of her books, so I don't feel bad recommending all of them.

William Blake

There's one poem by Blake about a London street urchin that breaks my heart every time I read it and that is the sole reason behind this recommendation I hate Romantic poets.

Mary Shelley - Frankenstein (1818)

You knew it was coming. First sci-fi, gothic horror, teenage girl writer. Gotta love Shelley.

Frederik Douglass - Narrative of the Life of Frederik Douglass (1845)

You know those books that are horrifying because they're real? That's this book. Doesn't shy away from the horrors of slavery and for a reason. This is an autobiography. It is not fiction.

Gowongo Mohawk - Wep-ton-no-mah (1890s)

My favourite play of all time. You will need to do a trip to either the British Library or the Library of Congress to read it because there are no other copies, but I did do a whole podcast episode about it because I'm apparently the expert? You can find it here.

Bram Stoker - Dracula (1894)

I know here on tumblr we adore Dracula, and for good reason. It's horrifying, it's got a blorbo, if you haven't read it already, go with a dracula daily read-through or @re-dracula for the best experience. (Re:Dracula also has episodes where they get scholars on to talk about things like racism and gender and queer theory surrounding the text which is SO COOL as an ex-lit student I love listening to those episodes.

Post-1900

Oscar Wilde - De Profundis (1905)

We had to read a snippet of this for A-Level and I wish it had been more because wow. Most lists like this will recommend Dorian Gray because it's a novel, but De Prof is so heartfelt and beautiful and sad and deserves to be read.

Baroness Orczy - The Scarlet Pimpernel (1905)

First masked vigilante/superhero! If you like comic books or superhero media, this is where it all started (funny how all the firsts so far have been written by women 🤔)

Erich Maria Remarque - All Quiet on the Western Front (1929)

If you only read one book in your life about WW1 make it this one! It is heartbreaking and beautifully written and makes you feel so many things. It was banned in...a lot of places for being anti-war (especially as WW2 came closer) and also because it was written by a German who was anti-war which was apparently impossible to comprehend. The prose is truly something to behold.

Modern lit (Post-war era)

George Orwell - 1984 (1948) OR Animal Farm (1945)

Which one you should read depends a lot on how long your preferred book is and how metaphorical your tastes are. Both are very good explorations of corrupt governments. Animal Farm is an easier read and shorter and is much more allegorical. 1984 is very in-your-face about how much authoritarian governments suck. Do not discount 1984 just because Winston is a terrible person. Everyone knows he's terrible. That's the whole point. He is a normal terrible person, not a cartoonishly evil terrible person, or an angelically perfect revolutionary. All the characters are realistic for their situation.

Maya Angelou - I know why the caged bird sings (1969)

Another one with some beautiful prose. She's a poet and you can tell. It's an autobiography, plus there's a lot of clever stuff going on with how it's written. You could write an essay about this. I did.

Ghassan Khanafani - Return to Haifa (1969)

A short story by a Palestinian author - we were given this by our Palestinian lecturer as an intro to the conflict and the terrible things that colonialism has done to the region. Additionally, there are notes throughout that help explain the significance of things and background and all that jazz. There is a play version that is probably easier to find because it was published more recently but it's not as good.

Ben Okri - The Famished Road (1993)

I did not read this book for uni and I think that may have influenced my opinion of it slightly but I still credit it as one of the reasons I got interested in world lit and translation. It's a really beautiful exploration of Nigerian mythological tradition and its effect on family and politics in this kind of fascinatingly weird style that's both magical realism and modernist? I hate modernism but love magical realism more so.

Carmen Maria Machado - In the Dream House (2019)

What a book oh wow. It reads like poetry. I cannot think of anything coherent to say my brain is screaming. The novel explores abuse in queer relationships, which is something people don't normally talk about, through some very interesting motifs and I love it so much. It is hard to read, but very rewarding.

[khodorkovskaya]

so i was looking for an exercise for my lesson with lucien the other day and i was looking thru my documents and stumbled upon this little story i wrote last year when i was procrastinating studying for exams lol. i don't remember if i posted it on here already but i read it again and it's so funny!

and btw fun facts: tania is my london bestie, ira is my manchester bestie, daisy is my oxford bestie. and i just realised that when tania talks about her first kiss she's talking about my zurich friend! the gangs all here lol. but yeah, hope you guys enjoy this fun little story about how 15 yr old me realised she was gay.

It felt like a ritual.

I remember sitting on the floor of my bedroom, surrounded by my schoolbooks and scrunched up pieces of paper, 1984 by George Orwell in my hands and my diary, in the middle of it all, negligently open at some random page filled with black-ink scribbles.

The History exam was coming up and the most efficient way to organise the chaos of my notes, according to my 15-year-old self was to, of course, dump it all on the floor, and sort it into piles. The pile by my bed would be for the chapter on Hitler’s rise to power, the one by the window for the Arab-Israeli conflict and the one by the book shelf would be the pile of scrap notes I would eventually throw in the bin. The sorting was off to a good start, but, soon after emptying all my folders, my drowsy mind wondered away and I could no longer concentrate on the task. I got up and took the brand-new copy of 1984 out of my bag. I had started reading it on the tram on my way from the bookstore and was quite intrigued. Dystopia was by far my least favourite genre and I hated this type of moralistic fiction all together, but 1984 was different. It wasn’t like The Hunger Games, that I had to force myself to read to keep up with the trends, or The Giver, that was part of the school curriculum. Reading this particular dystopian novel, however uninteresting it seemed, had a purpose for me. And that purpose was John.

John was an interesting purpose for sure. He was someone I considered a close friend, despite barely ever talking to him. And, since the start of Year 11, he was also my best friend’s boyfriend. He was about my height, which, me being the tallest person in the year, was quite an achievement, and had an incredibly deep voice for his age, which made him an unintentional authority amongst his peers. His favourite school subject was History, just like mine, and he would often get into long debates about it with teachers. Given his deep and loud voice, people just had to listen to him and, being an exceptionally good student made him even more respected. We were all sure he would have a future in politics some day and me and my friend Tania even nicknamed him “The politician”. Having picked up an interest in politics myself, I just had to get to know him better. I was dying to talk to someone about my newly found interest in the history of North Korea, and, out of the thirty people in my year, John seemed like the only one who would know anything about the subject. During our two-day Duke of Edinburgh hike in Valais, I had managed to find out what John’s favourite books were. Not surprisingly, they were 1984 and Brave New World. I rolled my eyes at how basic his choices were – a 15-year-old boy with an interest in politics obsessing over dystopian fiction, how typical! – but he was my only option, if I ever wanted to have long discussions about international relations with anyone I knew. And so, 1984 it was.

Reading had always been a difficult task for me and, after about five minutes, I couldn’t concentrate on it any longer either. I continued reading, but my mind was already far off, imagining how I would proudly tell John that I knew everything about his favourite book. In my fantasy, he would be slightly shocked, immediately asking me to hang out and talk about it after school. We could go to a park or a café and talk for hours on end and I would tell him about some actually good books like Without You, There Is No Us or Nothing to Envy, both of which were about North Korea and, unlike silly dystopia, were based on facts.

Thinking about John gave me a warm feeling in my body that I couldn’t quite explain. I wanted to daydream about him more and more, replaying unrealistic dreamy scenarios in my head over and over. I noticed that my heart started pounding the more I thought about him and I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline that made my hands a little shaky, as I was holding the book. The feeling was so familiar, yet I couldn’t explain it. I had felt it before, for sure, like when I wanted to be friends with my Physics teacher or when I, for some reason, would wonder what would happen if I became friends with certain girls I never really talked to at school. It probably meant that I wanted to be closer friends with John too. Or…

I opened my eyes wide and lowered the book on the floor. The sudden realisation made me weak in the knees.

…Did this mean that I was in love with John?

I had to tell someone; this was huge! But who would I tell? My best friend was his literal girlfriend! Or did it matter? I mean, as far as I knew, they weren’t having sex. And, if being at that posh private school a couple of years ago taught me anything, it was that serious relationships involved sex. If not, it was just friendship, just like my 6th Grade friendship with my “boyfriend” Vlad. But something told me, my friend wouldn’t approve.

I took out my diary and started writing.

“I can’t hide it anymore,” I wrote my secret in the tiniest handwriting possible. “I love John.”

Seeing it written on paper was thrilling. My hands were shaking uncontrollably, heart echoing in my ears, as I was coming to terms with my own confession.

“And I don’t just like him,” I continued. “I would straight up have sex with him. Oh my god. I love him so much. Why is he so hot?”

Immediately after writing this strange declaration of love, I folded the page into a triangle and taped it closed. It was a strange practice I had kept since childhood for writing my biggest secrets. My diary was a safe enough place to keep my thoughts, but in extreme cases like this one, I had to be absolutely sure that no one would ever find out. The chance of someone reading my diary without permission was small, but I couldn’t risk it.

There it was. My secret was out. Well, to my diary, at least. It was exciting. Thrilling. I was in love! John, my first ever crush – what an exciting milestone! I guess I wasn’t asexual after all. But it was strange that I had felt this feeling before. Did this mean I didn’t want to be friends with all those girls I had experienced similar emotions for in the past? Thinking about John, while having butterflies in my stomach was nice, but I had to investigate further.

Leaving the mess of my History notes on the floor, I started looking for my diary from 7th Grade in my chest of drawers. It was easy enough to find – a roughed-up grey notebook with a picture of an owl on the cover. The last time I had experienced that feeling was when I was getting extra help from my Physics teacher and, since everything was nicely documented in my diary, I could easily get to the bottom of this. By coincidence, when I dropped the notebook on the floor, it opened itself to another taped over folded page, another secret I wanted to keep safe from any intruders. ‘What’s in it?’ I thought, not remembering what I could have written all those years ago. After giving it a thought, I reached for the scissors, and cut through the tape. What I saw there – written in my own handwriting! – shocked me to the very core.

“I had a strange dream yesterday,” it read. “I think I was a man in the dream. I was with Katarina. She was on the bed, wearing a white knee-length nightgown. I stroked her stomach and thighs and spread her legs. And then… I think it’s called giving oral��? It was nice. She orgasmed and I woke up.”

It all made sense… My weird fondness for my Physics teacher in 7th Grade suddenly made sense… And so did my nervousness around Arina in 8th Grade, when we would walk to the bus stop together and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her cleavage. And so did the endless scrolling on Katarina’s Facebook page, when I would look at photos of her in a bikini and feel a strange tingling at the bottom of my stomach. And so did the fact that when my best friend showed me porn when we were thirteen, I would look at the woman and never at the man. It all made sense. It all came together. There was a reason I felt weird in the girls’ changing rooms. There was a reason, why I wrote a story about kissing a girl for my English class assignment. There was a reason I never fancied any boys at school. There was a reason for everything! I was a lesbian!

But what about John…?

No, I couldn’t be a lesbian, I thought. All those instances I thought about and, even that dream, were just feelings of friendship! I couldn’t be gay. That was impossible. No way. I was normal!

I took my laptop and opened an Incognito tab in my browser.

“Am I gay quiz,” I typed into the search bar. No. That was ridiculous. Of course, I wasn’t gay. But, if my feelings for those girls weren’t love, that meant that I wasn’t in love with John. And I definitely was. And so, I was stuck in a contradictory dilemma. If I was in love with a boy, it would mean that I was a lesbian. But, if I wasn’t, why would I sexually fantasise about a friend? If only there was another option…

I could be bisexual, I thought. The definition did describe me pretty well, but, in practice, I was the polar opposite of what a typical bisexual girl was. It was a label reserved for “sluts”. The only bisexual I knew was my middle school friend Sasha. She was the first one in our friend group to lose her virginity, her nude photos circulating around the school when she was only thirteen. I wasn’t like her and plus, I had no proof that I was sexually attracted to either gender. The “straight” part would be easy enough to prove to the public; I was a girl, after all, so it was only natural to be attracted to men. But to me, the only proof was my desire to talk politics with John. As for being attracted to women, my diary had plenty of proof, but, since I had never acted upon any of my fantasies with girls, did they even have any value? In theory, the word “bisexual” sounded just right, but no one would believe nor accept me. I decided to wait until sharing these thoughts with anyone else. I was only 15 after all; I had plenty of time to figure things out. But, until then, it would be another one of my deepest secrets. So deep, in fact, that I wouldn’t even trust my diary with it.

---

My mum gave me a worried look, as I got out of my room to make myself a cup of tea.

“Are revisions going alright?” she asked in a worried tone, looking me up and down.

“Uhh… Yeah..?” I said quietly, realising that, after discovering not one but two crucial life- changing details about myself, I probably looked mad.

“Ready for the exam?” mum asked again, trying to calm me down. “What’s it gonna be on?”

“Arab-Israeli conflict,” I muttered, avoiding eye contact, as I made my way to the kitchen.

Despite what seemed like the biggest discovery of my life, I quickly forgot about it, once I got to school the following day. I had a crush on a boy after all; why would it matter if I was hypothetically attracted to women? And when you’re fifteen, the hormonal rush of being in love feels like the most important thing in the world. I was convinced that I was going to marry John and, if I was into him, he had to be secretly in love with me too. After all, love was a mutual feeling, right?

After being subjected to the despicable sight of my supposed best friend Daisy and John snogging in front of my locker as usual, I decided that this atrocity had to be put to an end. I had a new life purpose – a new mission! – and nobody was going to stop me. I had to let John know how I felt! How else would he know that we were meant to be and that I wanted to have sex with him? I had to be direct, yet discrete. In a tiny school like this one news spread quickly and, if I didn’t play my cards right, all the thirty people in year would know the secret that I had so carefully folded into a page of my diary the night before.

Brainstorming for ideas of how to let John know about the way I felt was a lot easier than I thought. The answer was in front of me this whole time. The book, the god damn book! The shitty dystopian novel I was trying so hard to get through had finally proven itself useful. I could do the same thing! Give John a piece of paper with the three simple words written on it, just like Julia’s note to Winston; direct, yet discrete, exactly what I was looking for. And, even better, I could simply rip out the page with the love confession straight from the book and give it to John. How clever! And, most importantly, how romantic! Christmas was coming up so John, officially being a part of my friend group, would receive a present from me. It wasn’t weird; we were friends after all and it was only expected of us to give each

other Christmas presents. I would then casually slip the ripped-out page into the bag and, after opening the present, he would see my confession. The plan was brilliant!

I felt like a genius. Even if John wouldn’t be so eager to jump into a relationship with me straight away, this confession would mark him for the rest of his life and that was exactly what I wanted. Back then it seemed to me that, if I was in love, it was going to be for life, so it didn’t matter if John wasn’t in love with me just yet. And I was willing to give him the time to grow and mature. What counted was that he would know about my feelings and that my creative confession would stay with him forever. But the way things played out, wasn’t at all what I was expecting.

After giving John his Christmas present and the ripped-out page from 1984 with the words “I love you” in the middle of it carefully circled in pencil, I waited for a reply. On the 25th of December, I finally got the awaited Facebook message.

“Thanks for the present jacky. Very cool!” it read.

And that was it. “Very cool”, huh? No mention of the page at all. No heartfelt message about how surprised he was to see my confession or, on the contrary, a “I don’t feel that way about you” type of rejection. Hell, even a “don’t talk to me ever again” would’ve been better than nothing! But there it was, the only reply John would ever give me. And at school, it was the same as before. It was like he didn’t even understand the confession. I mean to me, it seemed very obvious! I circled the words “I love you” in the middle of the page, God damn it! Was it that hard to understand? Or maybe, he didn’t notice the page at all, I started thinking. Maybe it had slipped out of the bag or he had accidentally thrown it in the bin with the wrapping paper. Maybe he never saw it in the first place. And what was I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say “hey, did you see the ripped-out page from 1984 in your Christmas present?”. What seemed like the biggest romantic gesture of my life had gone unnoticed; it was like there was no 1984 in the first place.

I started thinking that I was going mad. Did I make this all up? Did I never actually confess anything at all? I mean, frankly, who wouldn’t react to a love confession? If John was aware of my feelings, he would certainly say something about it, not act like nothing had happened. The only proof I had was the mutilated copy of 1984 with page 114 savagely ripped out of it, as if leaving behind a scar. But did I even put it in the bag with his Christmas present?

However soon enough, I got the confirmation that I was not in fact going mad. Daisy, my best friend throughout all of Year 10, knew. And there was no way we were going to remain friends after I had tried to sabotage her relationship with John.

And so, I was back to being lonely, just like I had been in middle school. And finding new friends in a class of only thirty people was going to be tough.

---

After Christmas I had quickly realised that my fear of becoming friendless was largely exaggerated. It wasn’t like Daisy was my only friend in the entire school. It was true that halfway through the school year friend groups had already been formed, but it wasn’t completely impossible to join either clique and talk to people you wouldn’t normally talk to at lunch. It was weird not to spend every break time with John and Daisy, but, after spending some time apart from them, I started to realise that my friendship with them wasn’t as great as I thought. A lot of the times John would go on and on about politics and current events and, despite being interested in the subject, it wasn’t fun; there was nothing exciting about hanging out with the two of them and I started to miss my old mischievous friends Aisha and Jessica from 7th Grade. Luckily for me, this school gave me some options.

The first person I thought of when I brainstormed about who I could become closer friends with was Ira. We took Art together and would occasionally hang out after school. During the October holidays we even went to Montenegro together, so, according to some, we were even considered close friends. What I liked about Ira was that she was unapologetically interested in sex. Despite being a bit of a tomboy and probably the quietest person in the year, contrary to everyone’s expectations, Ira had a long and elaborate list of sexual fantasies. She watched porn, read a lot of erotic fanfiction and had encyclopaedic knowledge of fetishes, kinks and anything sex related. Once you got to know her, the shy innocent-looking girl transformed into a real qualified sexologist – a high priestess of lovemaking! And talking to her about it was fascinating! Now that Daisy was out of the picture, I could spend more time with Ira. I had missed talking about sex after all and Daisy was always too prude to ever bring it up.

The second friend I had, but never got the chance to get close to, was Tania. She was also in my Art class and, just like me, didn’t seem to fit in with any other friend group. But, unlike me, or Ira, or Daisy, Tania was cool. She looked a bit older than the rest of us and had a lot of friends outside of school. Every weekend her Snapchat story would show her partying at her older sister’s flat, drinking Jack Daniels and smoking red Marlboro cigarettes with her Russian friends and, despite never being really interested in alcohol, a part of me really wanted to be a part of this clique. At school however, Tania was mysterious. She didn’t have a friend group or a best friend like everyone else, but it never seemed to bother her. She could effortlessly join anyone else for lunch and, being the prettiest girl in the year, would be welcomed by everyone. And after school, she would often invite the people she liked the most to her favourite place in the entire town – Starbucks. Being one of the few people who actually enjoyed coffee at that age, I would often come along, and we would gossip for hours on end. And, just like Ira, Tania wasn’t afraid to discuss subjects deemed taboo by Daisy, like crushes and sexuality.

One time after Art class, after Daisy had stormed off to yet another snogging session with John, Tania came up to me and Ira and gave us a mysterious look.

“Starbucks?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Sure thing,” agreed Ira immediately.

“Uhh yes please!” I said, rolling my eyes, eager to talk about how much I despised John and Daisy’s relationship.

On our way to the café, Tania started to bombard us with questions. “Have you ever been in a relationship?” she asked.

“Yeah, when I was 12,” I laughed. “Doesn’t really count, I guess.” “Have you had your first kiss yet?” Tania continued her interrogation. Ira and I shook our heads.

“How do you think your first kiss will go?” she asked.

“I don’t really see it as a big deal,” I said honestly. “I mean to be fair, I don’t think I’ll be in a relationship any time soon, so it’s not gonna be this whole romantic thing.”

“Yeah, it’s not like losing your virginity,” Ira agreed. “Would you do it, if it was a dare?” Tania asked. “Sure,” I said. “It’s not a big deal.”

Tania sighed and gave it a thought.

“Because look,” she said in a quieter tone. “I was doing a bise to a guy and we accidentally kissed on the lips. That doesn’t really count, right?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” I said. “I feel like it’s an awkward thing everyone has experienced. I mean I’ve accidentally kissed my family members on the lips a couple of times and it’s not like a first kiss, you know?”

“Yeah, same,” Ira confirmed. “I mean it depends how the guy reacted, I guess. If it was just an awkward slip up it doesn’t really count.”

“What makes it worse though is that my first real kiss, like with tongue and everything, was a dare,” continued Tania. “I feel like it doesn’t really count either, you know?”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, it’s not like I was dating the guy. We were just drunk and played truth or dare. I didn’t even tell him it was going to be my first kiss,” she explained. “Like… does that even count? Like… I’ve never been in a real relationship, you know…?”

“Well, neither have I,” I reassured her. “Who cares? We’re fifteen, it’s the perfect time to be single.”

“Yeah, but I feel weird,” Tania sighed. “You had a boyfriend when you were twelve, it still counts. And you,” she turned to Ira, “you went on a date with Chris in Year 7.”

“Come on, don’t bring that up!” Ira playfully punched Tania’s arm. “Ouch!”

“Yeah,” I stood up for Ira. “It happened when we were kids. Those weren’t real relationships. It’s perfectly normal to be single at our age. I mean come on, do you want to be like Daisy and John?”

Ira stuck her tongue out, mimicking the pair. We laughed.

As we got our overly expensive Starbucks coffees, we decided to play one of our favourite games, “Fuck, marry, kill”. The rules were simple; you would be given three people and you would have to say, which of the three things you would want to do with them.

“Ummm,” hesitated Ira. “How about Daisy, John and… Mr Gilbert!”

“Oh no,” I laughed. “Okay… Kill Daisy – sorry Daisy! Fuck John. And marry Mr Gilbert with his very attractive Swiss teacher’s salary.”

“Smart choice,” laughed Tania. “I’d have to agree.”

“I’d kill Mr Gilbert actually,” said Ira. “Imagine spending the rest of your life with an old guy at your house. ‘You have to pay attention’,” she mimicked the teacher’s voice and hand gestures. “Miss me with that bullshit! I’d kill him off and marry Daisy. I mean she’s my friend, so I wouldn’t mind her.”

“A year ago I would’ve said the same thing,” I said. “But nowadays she’s so annoying.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Tania rolled her eyes. “Ditching her friends to make out with a fugly loser. She’s honestly such a bad friend.”

“For real,” I nodded and took a sip of my caramel macchiato.

As the school was so small, when we’d tried all the possible combinations with the boys in our year, we had moved on to girls, the options “fuck” and “marry” being purely metaphorical of course. But, after my big discovery, the game made me nervous. I didn’t want anyone to know my secret and openly saying that I would fuck a girl would be way too suspicious, even if I didn’t mean it.

“Okay,” continued Tania. “How about Caitlin, Gemma and Lisa?”

“Hmm I’d say fuck Caitlin, marry Lisa and kill Gemma…?” said Ira without giving it a second thought. “I’ve never really talked to Gemma, so if one has to go it’s gonna be her.”

“And you?” Tania turned to me. I was getting nervous.

“I’d kill Gemma too,” I started out with the easiest option. “And probably fuck Caitlin…? I mean, if I absolutely had to, I would. I wouldn’t really want to fuck her because she’s cute, but not like hot, you know? But like if I had to, I would. But I wouldn’t. She’s not really my type.”

“Wow you’re really getting into this, huh?” laughed Ira.

“No, I get it,” reassured Tania. “I mean it’s if you had to, that’s the point of the game. Like you’re not attracted to girls, I get it.”

“I…,” I paused. “I think I am.” And that was my coming out.

---

Just like telling John that I loved him with a ripped-out page from 1984, the fact that I had told Tania and Ira that I was attracted to girls didn’t change anything at all. They quickly brushed it off and the topic was never brought up again, as if I hadn’t confessed to anything in the first place. My two most important discoveries ended up having no impact on my life whatsoever and, to the confusion of my dramatic fifteen-year-old self, the world didn’t stop or even slow down to acknowledge the importance of the findings of my inner world. What did have a lot of impact, however, was the development of my friendship with Tania and Ira and the presence of a certain mysterious substance otherwise known as alcohol.

Alcohol had always been something I was absolutely terrified of, the smell and taste of it reminding me of my dad’s lavish parties and, later, the blank stare of my mum’s new husband, who, without invitation, had moved in to live with us when I was fourteen. The thought of getting drunk made me nauseous and, as a child, I had sworn to myself that I was never going to drink this disgusting substance ever in my life. However, as time progressed, I had to come to terms with the fact that, just like sex, alcohol was something I had to accept, going into adulthood.

The summer before Year 10 was the first time that I had really gotten drunk. My cousin suggested to sneak out of the house past midnight and go drink beer with the soldiers at the military base hidden in the nearby forest. Loving adventure, I immediately accepted and, after making sure that everyone was asleep, we put on mascara and tiptoed to the small convenience store by the train station to buy a couple of beers.

“These are for the guys,” she picked up a sixpack of Baltika. “And these ones are for us,” she gave me a cute pink bottle with raspberries and passion fruit on the label.

The soldiers were more than happy to see us. Who wouldn’t be happy to see girls after a whole year of compulsory military service in the middle of nowhere? They showed us to the hole in the barbed wired fence and led us to the garage, proudly showing us the new paint job they had recently completed on a big and menacing-looking military vehicle. Looking back, there were so many ways this reckless adventure could have gone wrong, but ignorance was bliss and, luckily for us, the soldiers we stumbled upon were honest and well-mannered guys. They could probably tell we were so young, despite us trying our hardest to convince them we were eighteen, and were very polite and courteous. Sharing a beer with them while listening to their captivating stories about life in the army was fascinating and the presence of alcohol didn’t bother me at all. The sparkling raspberry and passion fruit drink was tasty and not scary at all. Maybe alcohol wasn’t as bad as I had thought it to be.

My prejudice had completely disappeared once I had started drinking with Tania. For my sixteenth birthday she had organised a surprise party for me and, after doing shots of vodka with her and our friends, there was no way I was going back to the boring strolls around the lake with Daisy I had previously called “going out”. In fact, there was no way I was going back to Daisy at all; Tania had not invited her nor John to the surprise, making it the final straw in our friendship breakup. Soon enough my Friday nights were spent sharing two bottles of rosé with Tania, while eating pizza and snorting snuff off the living room chair.

Although it was just tobacco, sniffing lines of anything felt thrilling. It felt like the beginning of a new life; I was entering into the booze-filled and rebellious age of adolescence I had seen in movies. Soon enough I was going to become the main character of a teen drama everyone’s loser parents were worried about, and I couldn’t wait to see what this kind of life had to offer.

[999-picarat-puzzle]

Fic writing meme 2022

Thanks to @101flavoursofweird for tagging me! :D

Since this got pretty long, I’ll put everything behind a “read more”:

Word count for the year: For fics I’ve posted to AO3, 15218 words. However, I also finished a fic for the Home & Exile zine (2022 words — nice coincidence, now that I look at it lol) and I have plenty of WIPs that probably account for way more than what I posted, but unfortunately, I’m a bit chaotic in that sense so I don’t know the exact numbers.

Number of stories posted to AO3: 3

Pairings written for: For stories I’ve posted, Nao/Reko and Keiji/Kai (both from Your Turn To Die). Including WIPs, I’ve also written a bit of Layton/Claire (Professor Layton).

Fandoms I wrote for: I’ve only posted for Your Turn To Die this year, but there’s been a bit of working in Professor Layton fics in the past few weeks too. 

Most popular story: The Sara File. It recently became my first story to reach 500 hits, which is pretty nice!

Story I’m most proud of: Flavors, the fic I wrote for the Home & Exile zine (I unfortunately cannot link it because the zine hasn’t been released yet, but hopefully I’ll be able to post it to AO3 this spring/summer!). Maybe it’s because the piece was pretty experimental to begin with, or maybe I just had more time to improve the fic before submitting it — I usually post as soon as it’s done, but since I finished the fic before the deadline, I had plenty of time to ask for suggestions to the other writers and to rewrite stuff — but I felt really proud of myself after finishing it. :)

Funniest: Either chapter 3 of The Sara File, or Apartment 508.

Saddest: Flavors. Then again, none of the other stories I finished this year are really angsty, since all of them were fluff/humor.

Least Popular: Surprisingly, Dancing under the streetlights. When I posted it, I thought it would become my most popular YTTD story since Naoreko is a relatively popular pairing, but somehow, it’s my least popular story for the fandom.

Most Cringe-Worthy: I’m not sure... Maybe Apartment 508? The premise was a bit ridiculous to begin with ("Okay, what if Keiji and Kai were both like those nosy grandmas who know all the juicy drama going on in the neighborhood?”), so I’ll say that one.

Favorite Opening Line(s): From chapter 3 of The Sara File:

Sometimes your day goes so horribly wrong that you wonder why you even got out of bed in the first place. Today was one of those days for Kai.

Favorite Closing Line(s): I’d quote the last lines of Flavors, but since it’s still unreleased and I'm not sure if I’m allowed to post excerpts of it yet, I’ll pick the ending of chapter 2 of The Sara File, simply because I think it’s funny out of context lol:

Maybe buying thirteen different types of jam hadn’t been such a bad idea in the end.

Or perhaps the ending of Apartment 508:

The light switch was turned on and Kai had to squint his eyes to avoid being blinded by the sudden light. Keiji was looming over him, notepad and pen in hand, with a serious look on his face.

“You can’t just get me invested into more neighborhood drama and then expect me to sleep.” There was a spark of fiery determination in his eyes. “Your friendly detective is gonna need more info on that affair, Kai.”

Kai took the pillow under his head and threw it at Keiji. “Go to sleep!”

“No, Kai. I do not need sleep. I need answers.”

Kai slammed his head back onto the mattress and closed his eyes with a sigh. “What have I started…”

It was going to be a very long night.

Top Scenes you would choose to have illustrated: Kai teaching Joe and Sara how to make crêpes in chapter 3 of The Sara File (well, mostly Sara, since Joe failed spectacularly at it lmao).

Story I haven’t yet written, but intend to: Considering I’ve talked about YTTD fics for almost the entirety of the post, I’ll talk about other fandoms now XD. For fics with relatively “basic” premises, I want to write some college Layclaire! Maybe writing about them studying together at night during finals season, or cheering each other when they have to write a dissertation. I’m not sure yet what I want to write exactly, but I have barely written any Layclaire, and I think I need to change that (especially if we take into account the upcoming Layclaire week...)

For more experimental ones, I want to write a fic about Jean Greyerl’s story from PLvsPW:AA using references to the Fibonacci sequence (the sequence that is closely related to the golden ratio), since I think it would be fitting for the “golden” witch, who also happens to be an erudite with plenty of science (and probably mathematics) knowledge.

Fic-writing goals for 2022: I wanted to experiment a bit, and I feel like I did a good job at it! I tried 2nd person POV, I started adding HTML formatting into some of my stories, and I have a short fic in progress that is mostly written in future tense. I wish I was a bit more consistent about finishing works and tracking how much I actually write, but I’ll leave that for the 2023 resolution list lol.

I’m not usually one to tag people in stuff like this in case they feel pressured, but if any of my followers wants to do this, feel free to do so! :)

[myherowritings]

Three in the Morning

— You’ve missed your best friend after not seeing him for over a week. To fix that problem, you show up at his window at three in the morning to fill the Iwaizumi-shaped void in your heart.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 2.9k genre: college/university au, fluff warnings: intoxication (reader is tipsy hghfjsd), jealous reader at one point, cuddling in bed, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: written for bnha sanctuary one prompt haikyuu collab! :D a bunch of writers wrote their take on the same prompt “it’s 3am why are you outside my window” and this is the fic i came up with based on it! check out the other amazing fics here u won’t regret it ;) xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

Walking around in the middle of the night just the slightest bit tipsy wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done in your whole college career, but you could safely say it wasn’t the dumbest— Not that it was something you should be proud of.

You and your roommates had just gotten home from a party and, for some odd reason, you had the sudden urge to see one of your best friends, Iwaizumi Hajime, right at that very moment. He had been studying for midterms all week and you weren’t able to hang out with each other like you normally did, causing a Iwaizumi-shaped void that you wanted to fill. (In a strictly platonic way, of course.) 

And when you were half-sleep deprived, half-inebriated, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be rather...impulsive. From ordering too much takeout from any “open 24-hour” restaurant within a five mile radius, to uploading a video of you trying to come up with the perfect pasta recipe, you’ve done a handful of bizarre things during the ungodly hours of the night. But even you weren’t sure what was going on through your mind that convinced you sneaking out of your apartment and heading to Iwaizumi’s nearby was the best course of action while still slightly intoxicated. 

The clock on your phone read that it was only a quarter ‘til three and you quickly shrugged on a jacket and sent Iwaizumi a sloppy “i’m omw iwaaaachann” text before stepping foot outside your door, making sure to shut it silently as to not awaken your roommates who had just fallen asleep. 

As you made your way through your apartment complex, the thought briefly crossed your mind that Iwaizumi might be sleeping at the moment, especially since he had just finished his midterm exams, but you shrugged it off. You would cross that hurdle when you got there. 

And so, when you finally—through some miracle from above—arrived at Iwaizumi’s in one piece, you weren’t sure what else to do other then stare at his half cracked open window. Since he lived on the second floor, it wasn't uncommon for him to leave a window open for air to come through during the hot seasons. 

“Iwaizumi!” you yelled in a quiet whisper, hoping the wind would carry your words into his apartment for you. 

When you received no reply, you pulled our your phone and began to message him. Although Iwaizumi liked to pretend he was an unsentimental guy who didn’t have time to deal with others’ bullshit, it was obvious that was false. He cared a lot about everyone, especially his friends. Maybe even too much. And one of the ways he showed he secretly cared was always having his phone on full ringer in case anyone needed help in the middle of the night— Something that was surprisingly quite common when you were friends with the chaos that was Oikawa.

Would it be mean to use that knowledge to your own advantage and spam Iwaizumi until he replied? 

Maybe. 

But in your defense, you were practically having an emergency only he could help with. You desperately needed your Iwaizumi fix after not having seen him in over a week and there was no one better to help you that problem than Iwaizumi himself. 

Besides, texting him until he wakes up would be better than Romeo-and-Julieting this and climbing in through his window. Trying to scale a building while tipsy was too idiotic, even for you.

Y/N: are u awakeee?

Y/N: wakey wakey 

Y/N: i miss u :(

Y/N: i’m outside ur window wink wonk

Y/N: iwaaa >.>

There was a cacophonous sound of loud text chimes ringing one after the other followed by a deep grunt and stretching sound. You pictured Iwaizumi blearily getting out of bed and checking his phone that he kept across the room (to minimize at-night screen time, he claimed) with a heavy-lidded look on his face. 

After a few seconds of unidentifiable shuffles, you heard a strangled cry of, “What the—?!” before you saw the shadow of his head through the window screen. 

“Y/N?” he asked incredulously, voice still rough and scratchy from having just been awakened. 

You waved, beaming wildly. “Iwaizumi!” 

There was a deep sigh as he cracked the glass open even wider. “It’s three in the morning— Why are you outside my window?” He peered down at you almost stumbling on the spot. “And are you drunk?”

“Barely,” you assured, though you still felt a slight buzz in your fingertips. “I missed you so I came here.” 

“I— What? I mean— Huh?” he demanded, visible confusion in his tone. He rubbed his forehead before correcting himself. “I mean I miss you too. But it’s three in the morning! You couldn’t wait to miss me in a few hours instead?” 

You didn’t know whether to pout because he didn’t grow some Rapunzel hair and let you climb it up to the window and fall into his open arms like you’d imagined, or cheer because he said he missed you too. Blissfully, you chose the latter. “You miss me?” 

“Is that really all you heard?” said Iwaizumi with a snort before shaking his head in defeat. “Come up here. I’ll unlock the door for you.” 

Your face lit up instantly as you nodded, bounding up the stairs of his apartment building and meeting with him face-to-face at his doorstep. 

He had his arms folded over his chest as he waited for you at the entrance and, though he had tired circles under his eyes and still seemed half-asleep, was looking as attractive as ever. Not even the white polka dots on his pajama shorts could talk away from that fact. If anything, it made him all the more adorable. 

“Iwa-chan!” you greeted excitedly, but still careful as to make sure you weren’t loud enough to wake up his roommate. You opened your arms out and he begrudgingly accepted your embrace. (Well, he tried to seem begrudging at least. But you saw his hidden smile as you nestled your chin on his shoulder.) “I missed you.”

“You said that already, dumbass,” he said with a tsk. He patted the top of your head before pulling away from your hug promptly. “You’re cold. Have you been standing outside for long?” 

Pursing your lips, you looked up at him in confusion. “I don’t feel cold.” 

“Because you’re too drunk to register it, probably.” With his warm hand on the small of your back, Iwaizumi ushered you inside and shut the door behind you. “Let’s go to my room so we don’t wake up my roommate, yeah?”

“‘Kay.”

Having visited his place so many times before, you knew it like it was your own apartment— Disregard the fact that your apartments had almost the same exact layout since you lived in the same complex. After sliding off your shoes at the entrance, you led the way to his room with Iwaizumi following closely behind you. 

“Did you go to a party tonight?” he asked, eyes trailing down your body that was clad in an oversized t-shirt and fuzzy socks. Iwaizumi took a seat on his bed and patted the spot next to him for you to join. 

Laughing at his puzzled expression, you nodded. “Yeah, but I went to my place to change and get ready for bed,” you explained. “Tried sleeping but I missed you too much and wanted to see your face.”

You climbed onto the mattress with him and wiggled around until you found a comfy spot. The comfy spot happened to be side-by-side with Iwazumi, your back against the wall and cold thigh pressed against his warm one. You rested your head on his shoulder and he lazily drew circles onto your knee with the pad of his thumb. 

Intimacy like this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you— That’s just how things were. He was warm and comfy and good at cuddling, and you liked that. 

It could maybe be considered just normal friendship things you two did with everyone if it weren’t for the fact that Iwaizumi wasn’t typically comfortable with physical touch from anyone other than you. And maybe if you also ignored that you weren’t too keen on the thought of him one day being this close to anyone else. If truth be told, you didn’t like the thought of that at all. 

With a small huff, you hooked your left arm with Iwaizumi’s right, hugging his bicep to you in an almost clingy manner. 

“You good?” he asked, lightly chuckling as he looked down at you gripping onto his side. “Or something troubling you?”

You hummed unsure how to answer. There wasn’t enough alcohol in your system for you to completely spill your guts with know remorse, though being tipsy did greatly increase your likelihood of being loose-lipped. “I’m just thinking about someone else being with you like this.” 

Iwaizumi stiffened, shoulders tensing ever so slightly before he quickly relaxed his muscles again. He prompted gruffly, throat so tight it came out as a murmur, “And?” 

“I don’t like it.” 

He let out a sharp chuckle. “I see.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a smile on his face and you continued on. “You’ve been studying a lot with Sasaki-san lately.”

“Hmm. Have I?” 

You nodded. “You have your biomechanics class with her, right?” 

“Yeah. I guess we studied for the exam together for a few nights.” 

There was a funny feeling in your stomach at the thought of him spending his nights studying with someone that then spiraled to you picturing them being compatible and falling in love and spending the rest of their lives together. You winced, trying to shake it off. You were one of his best friends; it’s not like you had the right to feel that way.

“She’s really pretty,” you said, hoping it would prompt him to talk more about her. Even if you had no right, you still wanted to know—

By now, the laughter Iwaizumi was struggling to hold in bubbled out of his mouth, cutting you off mid-thought. His shoulders bounced up and down and you reluctantly sat up from your position resting on top of him to give him a look of confusion.

“Why are you laughing at me?” you pouted. Your eyebrows were furrowed and the corners of your lips were quirked down, cheeks slightly puffed. 

He nudged your side gently with his elbow. You nudged him back, but moved away before he could retaliate and start a nudge war. “Because you sound jealous and it’s funny.”

“I didn’t say I was jealous.”

“I didn’t say you said that.” 

“I’m not jealous,” you corrected.

“Now that’s debatable.” 

Your cheeks flooded with heat, grabbing a pillow off the head of Iwaizumi’s bed to hide the embarrassed look on your face, seconds away from throwing it at him if he started to laugh any louder. You huffed. You were not jealous. There was no way. You just didn’t like imagining one of your best friends with another person doing coupley things that you only wanted him to do with you. But that definitely wasn’t jealousy. 

(Okay, fine. You were jealous. But you couldn’t admit that to Iwaizumi.)

“That’s just your lack of sleep talking,” you sulked, lying down on his bed with a pillow still over your face. “Go to sleep now.” 

“I was asleep. Until someone showed up at my window unannounced and woke me up.” 

“They sound annoying.” 

He barked out a laughter and you felt the weight on the bed shift. The compressed springs near your feet where Iwaizumi sat released its tension before you felt a dip beside you. You held your breath, the warmth from Iwaizumi’s body radiating onto yours.

While sleeping in the same bed together wasn’t as common as just cuddling, it wasn’t something that was exactly rare. There were times when you came over to watch movies or a television series with him until you both passed out on his bed. And other times when he was feeling stressed or you were feeling sad and neither of you wanted to sleep alone. You knew if you called, he would invite you in. And it was the same if he came to you. 

But that didn’t make your heart beat any less rapidly as you waited in anticipation for Iwaizumi to get under the sheets with you. No matter how many times you fell asleep together, that didn’t stop the rush of nerves and tense air of awkwardness from flooding the room. However, it took just one touch to break the ice and before you knew it, you were snuggling up next to him in complete contentment.

“They’re not annoying,” he said firmly, large hand resting on the curve of your hip. “Actually, I’m glad they showed up even though it was three in the morning and I was running on two hours of sleep from the previous day.” You winced at his words, the alcohol gone from your system by now and you realized the insensitivity of your actions. Still, your stomach fluttered when he said he was glad to see you. “Because I missed them too.” 

You blinked slowly. “You’re talking about me right?”

Through the moonlight from the window, you saw him roll his eyes with a grin. “Is there anyone else you think I’d let into my bed at this hour?” 

“Oikawa.” 

He considered it. “Well, maybe. But it wouldn’t so much be me letting him than him weaseling his way in.” 

You nodded solemnly, as if it made perfect sense. Because it did. “Fair enough. He’s the only other person I’d let into my bed like this too,” you admitted, earning a laugh out of the both of you. “Well, besides Oikawa then, there’s no one else you’d sleep with like this?”

“There hasn’t been since we started college. I doubt there would be anyone to change that. Nor would I want anyone to.” 

For the second time tonight, you felt heat rise to your cheeks and had the sudden urge to turn the other way and stare at the wall instead of Iwaizumi. But he held you tight by the waist so you couldn’t wiggle your way out of his grasp— Which did not, at all, help with the flaming face situation. 

He only wanted you? There was a euphoric feeling in your chest when you realized he felt that way, and you felt the same. 

“Someone’s bold tonight,” you managed to choke out, softly pressing your shaky fingers to the center of Iwaizumi’s chest. You felt the outlines of his toned pectorals beneath your palm and you had to remind yourself to keep on breathing.

“It’s from the lack of sleep. Sorry.” He didn’t sound apologetic. In fact, he seemed the opposite of apologetic when he brought you almost imperceptibly closer to him. If you weren’t so aware of the spatial distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, there was no way you would have noticed. But you did. And you didn’t mind it. “I don’t have my usual filter.”

“Maybe I like you like this,” you said without missing a beat. Your initial reaction was to be embarrassed about the words that just left your mouth, but when you saw his growing smile, you felt a rush of assurance coursing through you. “I always like you, I suppose.”

“Like me?” he prompted, almost teasingly. “In what way?”

You gulped. Was this Iwaizumi being flirty? 

Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for him to compliment you and occasionally play around— But if you thought your heart would ever be ready for him to actually flirt, you certainly thought wrong. You weren’t ready at all.

“L-Lots of ways,” you stammered out. “But in particular, the ‘I think you’re cute and I maybe want to date you’ way.” 

“Funny.” His voice was a low whisper that rasped in your ear. “I think I like you in that way too.”

“You think?”

“I know.” 

“Huh. Well, if we both like each other in that way…maybe we should…” you trailed off, feelings of timidness suddenly overcoming you. “You know…” 

“Date?” he supplied with a knowing grin. You nodded bashfully. “Tomorrow.” There was an air of promise and sincerity in his tone. “Let’s get some sleep and then when we wake up we can go on our first date.” 

Tranquility spread through your veins as you let out a happy sigh, your muscles growing lax at your calmed state. Although your heart was beating out of your chest at the prospect of actually dating Iwaizumi, his comforting embrace was enough to lull you into sleep. Your senses were flooded with him—his touch, his smell, the quiet sound of his steady breathing—and you realized there was no other place you’d rather be. 

“Are you sure you won’t be too tired from exams?” you said before sleep overtook the both of you. “And from me waking you up in the middle of the night? Which…sorry for that again, by the way.”

“Don’t apologize. It was worth it,” he mumbled, lips brushing against your forehead as your eyelids fluttered shut. “I’ll always be here when you need me. Even if it’s at three in the morning.” 

[thekingofwinterblog]

Day 3 - Funniest Moment In The Show

Well for this one, i literarily wrote an entire breakdown of my favorite joke, and why it works so well, so i might as well just Repost my analysis of the funniest moment, in what i consider the funniest Amphibia Episode.

The Dinner.

The Dinner, is probably the funniest episode of all of Amphibia. It's an expertedly crafted masterpiece that utilizes everything the show has spend 2 seasons worth of character building to set up with moments that are both hilarious, and 100% built of off the characters involved.

But i think my absolute favorite joke in the entire thing, has to be Sasha's attempt at drawing a tree, and how each of the Plantars manage to piss her off in such a way that it really does seem to her like all 3 are completely and totally doing everything they can to piss her off(When it's really just sprig).

It all starts with Sasha drawing a perfectly basic tree, which none of the participants in the game gets.

That's kinda funny, but what makes it even better is that there is a specific reason why the frogs and Grime aren't able to associate this with a tree, because as we see in the season 1 episode "Family Shrub", this kind of imagery just isn't associated with trees by Amphibia's inhabitants. But instead with shrubs.

Hell, Hop pop pretty much calls Anne crazy for suggesting it could be replaced by a tree.

It is literarily a piece of alien artwork to them, drawing trees in a way that Amphibians just don't do.

No wonder not one of the Amphibians are able to get it.

And then, Polly, the youngest Plantar family suggests it's meant to symbolize Toad Tower exploding.

She doesn't do this just to piss Sasha off, but because she genuinely thinks that it looks like that, and being as young as she is, she either doesn't quite get just how painful the memories of it is to Sasha(Just as much as it is to Anne), or she doesn't care, or a combination thereof.

Anne, who for some reason doesn't get what it's supposed to look like either, understands that at the very least it's not Toad tower, and tries to suggest that being the case, only to be interrupted by Hop Pop.

Hop Pop latches unto the idea that it's the tower, because he kinda gets what Polly is talking about, and when forced to think on the spot, Hop Pop has an amazing ability to be the most awkward guy you could possibly meet(5 minutes earlier, he told an incredibly racist and offensive joke to the one guy who would find it absolutely hilarious because to him, it was so true.).

So without thinking about it at all, he just continues rambling.

And having been there, he recalls the most memorable moment of that night, where Sasha decided to give her life for Anne, he "points" out where on the picture he thinks this took place.

And being his usual self, he puts his foot in his mouth further by connecting it to the other moment that he recalls from that night. Namely Anne choosing the Plantars over Sasha.

Not too surprisingly, the moment, which was arguably the most intimate moment Sasha and Anne ever had, is a very, VERY touchy and personal moment for Sasha, and so having it dragged up is likely to hit some nerves.

Having it further dragged up in a manner that makes fun of her deciding to kill herself rather than let Anne die with her, is incredibly emotionally painful for Sasha, and it's not surprising that at this point, she goes from trying to be a good guest to being outright pissed.

Frankly speaking, Sasha would have made the choice to die for Anne regardless of her choice of Sasha and the Plantars, so for Sasha this is Hop Pop just outright taunting her.

But at the very least, he isn't doing it on purpose. He's just being an awkward, awkward old man.

No, that role falls to his grandson, who seems to think that the rest of the family actually IS intentionally picking on Sasha, and so decides to get in on the action, by pointing to an event that simply cannot possibly be depicted in the picture Sasha drew.

You can kinda see where Hop Pop and Polly is coming from in this being a depiction of Toad Tower. But there is no way anyone could ever seriously claim to see Sasha in this picture "Plummeting to her possible death".

This is purely Sprig being a little shit, and taunting Sasha because he wants to do so.

It is also stepping over a line. And unlike Hop Pop, it is a line Sprigg steps over intentionally, and with no regret.

And it's at this point Sasha finally snaps.

"It's a a TREE! YOU MORONS, A TREE!"

It's a great sequence, but that's not even the punchline.

Because Hop Pop, in the moment being completely oblivious to the fact that this is a very volatile situation, decides that rather than being diplomatic, and give Sasha some leeway, to instead continue with the game, and send her to the shame corner.

Which the younger Plantars act like children about, which just clinches it for Sasha that yes, they seriously dragged up what was up until that moment probably the most traumatic moment of her entire life and made fun of it, and her choice to die for Anne, just to trigger her and make her lose the game.

Needless to say, she absolutely loses it, and it's hard to blame her, but at the same time the audience knows that other than Sprig, this is just the Plantars being their usual selves.

It's an expertedly crafted joke sequence that is both hilarious in how it crosses the line twice, it's built entirely on how each of the characters acts in situations like this, builds off continuity, and creates a strong moment of conflict fueled by the shortcomings of every character involved eithouth either the plantars(As a whole at least, not so much for Sprig) or Sasha being completely in the right.

And all of this masterful storytelling takes no more than 45 seconds to tell, all without being rushed. Anyone can tell a joke. Actually crafting a sequence that is both funny, painful, and emotional, all based on the characters involved that takes true skill.

[alaskasmonsters]

Cat Nap | Kozume Kenma

on the train ride home from one of Nekoma’s practice games Kenma accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder and...you’re not panicking about it...hahaha no.

pairing: kozume kenma x fem!reader

w.c: 1.658

warnings: none, just fluff

a.n: i thought the idea was v cute so i wrote it...didn’t turn out quite as cute as i would have liked but it’s...something. Hope you enjoy! :)

The train ride back was quiet.

You had not expected it any different.

After a year of being the manager of the boy's volleyball club of Nekoma, you'd grown quite accustomed to the atmosphere after the team had a game, practice game or not, it was still the same.

You wouldn't really expect it when you were looking from the outside, the boys' seeming most energetic, even boisterous at times (especially Yamamoto), but after a game...they turned into the most peacefully quiet  group of absolute angels.

After they've been burned off their energy and the adrenaline from the match wore off not even a can of coffee would be able to keep them awake and up.

Speaking of that, most of the boys were already deeply asleep, partly leaning against each other or a window, as they snored quietly. You thought you saw Yaku drooling in his sleep and you smiled at how cute your boys could be.

They were almost endearing like this, especially Yamamoto, who when awake was hard to keep in line, but now he was cuddled up against his bag, looking adorable.

The only people still awake beside yourself, were the coaches and your best friends Kenma and Kuroo.

The former was sitting in the seat next to yours and still playing Zelda on his PSP, while Kuroo was slumped in the seat across from you, leaning heavily on his arm, his tired eyes scanning over the rest of his team mates.

You knew it wouldn't be long until Kuroo was asleep, too, but for some reason, maybe because he thought it was his responsibility as the captain, he would always fall asleep last, after he ensured everyone else was already relaxed.

Kuroo looked content, a little too much like his thoughts had drifted off to his 'old man mental state', which was how you referred to the state he'd be in whenever he was talking about the youth again.

His eyes finally landed on you, drifting off to Kenma automatically and suddenly a smirk made its way onto his face, his eyes gleaming with something you'd never seen before and it scared you a little because what the hell was he thinking now.

You were just about to scold him for staring so creepily and ask him what he was finding so funny when you felt a weight on your left shoulder...one that has not been there before.

You flinched in surprise, head turning to find bleached hair way closer than just a few seconds ago, close enough to tickle your nose if you were to turn your hair a little more. The thought made heat crawl up your face, until you were sure you were just as red as that damn volleyball uniform.

Kenma was so close you could smell his shampoo...apple scent...cute.

The realization that Kenma had fallen asleep (hitting you way too late, but to be fair you had not expected to be attacked like this out of nowhere), head resting on your shoulder and PSP limp in his grip, made your stomach churn with something you couldn’t quite describe.

You didn’t dare move, body frozen up and arms hanging by your side quite unnaturally as you carefully glanced at the blond hair out of the corner of your eye, soft breathing indicating that despite your rapid heartbeat and nervousness Kenma was still deep asleep.

Kuroo chuckled quietly, clearly amused by how shell-shocked you were about Kenma’s sudden proximity. You glared at him, but didn’t think it looked all too intimidating with your cheeks all flushed and your rigid posture.

Truth was...you perhaps harbored some certain feelings for Nekoma’s setter. You’d never acted on them in fear of ruining your friendship, tried to hide them away as best as you could. Kuroo was aware of them of course, he was a little too observant for your liking, but he had pinky promised to not even hint at it around Kenma.

It was already both blessing and curse to spend so much time with Kenma due to you being Nekoma’s manager (something Kuroo, that absolute heathen, had smooth talked you into), but now that Kenma was taking a nap on your shoulder...dammit you would never get over your little crush now, would you? Not when the little butterflies in your stomach were going absolute crazy over how sweet his hair smelled like and how calm and relaxed he was while leaning against you.

You were doomed.

But thinking about it, having Kenma, an introverted gamer boy as a maybe future boyfriend was too good of a dream to ever let go off anyway.

You let out a silent sigh in defeat and tried relaxing a little with the weight pressing against your side, sinking lower into the leather of the seat to make yourself and Kenma more comfortable. Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Kenma’s PSP’s screen, with his avatar standing in the middle of a field. Knowing Kenma he’d be upset if he woke up later and realized his game hadn’t been saved, so you quickly reached over, careful to not disturb the boy and pressed the combination of buttons that would save his current progress before shutting the PSP off.

You listened for a second, making sure Kenma’s breathing was still relaxed before letting yourself sink back into your seat. You tried to ignore Kuroo’s amused eyes on you...and the phone camera he was currently pointing at you.

When you sent him a disapproving glare he mouthed “For the wedding card.” to you and that is when you decided to give up faith completely that that heathen would ever stop teasing you about your crush on Kenma.

The rest of the train ride was surprisingly short, you spent it with your head leaned against the window (as you grew quite exhausted, too) thoughts about the blond swirling through your mind constantly, Kenma’s weight against you a constant reminder of your proximity.

When it was time to get off the coaches and Kuroo took it upon themselves to help wake up the boys one by one, leaving you to deal with Kenma...which made sense since he was sleeping ON you, but how could they expect you to have the strength to withstand the warmth of his body and the smell of his hair…You were weak.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at you when he saw your hand helplessly hanging in between you and Kenma, silently judging you for a moment before he took the “waking up” upon himself.

“Hey, Kenma. Get up, we’re getting off at the next station!”

You glared at the captain for being so rude but quickly froze up again when you felt Kenma shift against your shoulder. A quiet grumble was heard before the boy slowly straightened up, blinking against the light before he started glancing around, looking a little disoriented.

His eyes fell on you almost immediately and he looked a little taken aback by your close proximity, lowering his head. You saw him slowly piece together what had happened and recognized a certain look of clarity when he seemed to realize he must have fallen asleep against you.

“Oh,” he mumbled quietly, his cheeks a light pink, “Sorry.”

You smiled at him, feeling very awkward, but tried your best to hide it.

“Oh…it’s fine. Uhm, i saved your game...just so you eh know.”

He looked confused for a moment, rubbing his eyes and looking down at the turned off console in his hands, before he seemed to catch up to what you were saying.

Kenma wasn’t usually very approachable after he’d taken a nap…

“Oh,” he mumbled again, and your smile widened a little at how adorable he was, “Thank you.”

You hummed softly in reply, turning to grab your stuff as the train slowly came to a halt and it was time to get off and head back towards school. The coaches signaled for everyone to gather together and you followed. Kenma joined you at the door, yawning as the team started exiting the train compartment slowly, shoulders slumped from tiredness.

Kuroo appeared next to the two of you with a wide grin, creepily energetic for not having slept at all during the time you were stuck in the train.

He gave you a wink, a wide grin spreading on his face as he turned towards Kenma, with a teasing glint in his eyes. You were already fearing the worst but were too late to stop him from opening his mouth and saying the words he’d already prepared.

“How did you sleep, Kenma? Were you comfortable, huh?”

You already opened your mouth to tell Kuroo to shut up already, but Kenma was faster.

“Yeah, I was. I slept well.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again, staring at the side of Kenma’s face that was hidden by his hair, glad he wasn’t looking at you at the moment.

Kuroo hummed looking very satisfied with himself before shifting his attention toward the road ahead.

You tried to calm yourself down, hands fidgeting, as you glanced at Kenma from time to time, not expecting to have him staring back at you suddenly. You flinched a little in surprise but Kenma only smiled faintly at your reaction, looking just slightly awkward as he considered what to say...because he looked like he meant to say something.

“I meant it...i was very comfortable.”

Your brain scratched to a halt and a surprised squeal left your lips, one that had you clasping your mouth in embarrassment the very next second. Kenma didn’t look quite as put off by your reaction as you would have expected. He held your gaze for a moment longer, still smiling, before he turned toward the rest of the group again, leaving you with whirling thoughts and a racing heart in your chest behind.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​  @duf3h6237​  @hufflefluffslytherin   @chucky-26o1  @crapimahuman​

[dekalko-mania]

Fic Writer Review

I’m so sorry, I hadn’t seen this in my mentions until now months after the fact- Thank you to @flutteringdreams-matw for tagging me and apologies for being super late rip 

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

Sixteen, surprisingly. Quarantine got me writing more than I have in years lol

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

138,410....V happy about that cause writer’s block had me on such a chokehold

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Hmm, published is one fandom, Danny Phantom. And unpublished is stuff I had written for Percy Jackson. So two proper ones. 

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

We pulling up the stats again~

1. Family Reunion

2. A Green Thumb

3. Vibe Check

4. Ghost Smarts!

5. #Stitch

5. Which of your fics do you want more attention for?

I don’t think I have a preference currently? Any fic interaction is greatly appreciated, thanks to anyone checking them out 💖

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Confession time: I am really shit at responding to comments. Part of it was because I had this weird thought that I would get really annoying bombarding everyone with replies 💀💀 Really dumb considering I love getting responses. I’ll try to get better now, prepare for spam 💃

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

Probably I Love You to Pieces - pretty hastily written fic, a bit messy. But you know, it fits the bill with that rather Slap Chop commercial of an ending. 

8. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not yet but definitely have some prompts for some stored up in my notes app! So far got some crossovers planned with Avatar, Spiderman, Young Justice, Ben 10, The Flash, Percy Jackson, Gotham, etc.

The most random shit mixed with DP 🔥

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Constructive criticism only really, wouldn’t consider it hate. Fingers crossed we stay that way lol

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Nope~ 

Funny cause I’ve mentioned offhandedly that I like to write fics to people who don’t regularly read them and they often assume that’s what I write. It’s when I realized the term fanfiction is often seen as synonymous with smut when that's not entirely the case lol

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not~

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope~

13. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Well, in the phandom I enjoy Grey Ghost, but I don’t primarily read ship fics for DP. Here for the lore bb 👻👻

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

“I never will” is a strong phrase. Maybe just, “won’t for a long time.” With the Brewing of a Storm is in the backburner rn, and although I had some continuations planned for Things That Lurk in the Dark, those will have to wait

15. What are your writing strengths?

Well, I have fun writing dialogue and I’m pretty good at coming up with ideas as I write. Improvisation and the fact that I actually really really enjoy doing it.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Many. so many. Biggest ones are probably actually forcing myself to sit down and write, I’m bad at action sequences, and I can be inconsistent. Recently realized I break POV a lot. It's okay though, room for improvement ~

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

Uh, I would need to do a lot of research. Gotta be careful with it. Closest I could attempt somewhat okay is dialogue in Spanish, porque es mi segundo idioma. Pero definitivamente no soy hablante nativa entonces....I'll limit it to this answer lol

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson, and those crappy fics will not see the light of day. To the ghost zone 👉🏼👻

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Tough cause I enjoy them all in their own way. But I got super into Comfortably Numb and then let out a good chuckle at the end of Family Reunion (which I do plan to continue someday lol)

20. What fic are you most proud of?

Comfortably Numb since I’m actually committing to a longfic with this one, which is quite a challenge for me. The response in the comments is also super, super cool. I love everyone’s insight so much. The predictions, the analysis, all really awesome. Thank you for making writing it so much more fun!

Tagging: Hopefully I’m not double tagging here, but @summerssixecho @ave-aria @echoghost1

[tedturneriscrazy]

Okay, time for Hunting Palismen and a closer look at this Golden Guard fella! Unlike approximately 99% of the fandom I wasn't really taken with him right away. Will I change my mind with this episode? Only one way to find out!

Ah, the coven leaders are here! So are the Abomitons!

I see you, Rayne. You look...less than thrilled to be there.

Purification under the coven system, eh? Wonder if we'll learn more about how that's supposed to work.

Oh lawd time for the fandom to thirst over Handsome Sq-I mean the Abomination Coven head (who I've decided is totally Gavin's dad)

Utopia? Wow, this really is a cult, huh?

Kiki does not like GG

Nope, that transformation bit wasn't at all unsettling or terrifying. No sir.

Also, the way Belos was pounding on the pillars was quite...visceral.

How many of those masks does he go through on a regular basis?

Uncle? I knew they were related in some capacity!

A wild witch cursed Belos, I'm calling it

Hey, intro update for Eda, King, and Amity!

Echo mouse apparently does not give up all its secrets that easily

At least King isn't trying to eat it?

Loving Luz's face pressed up against the glass

Luz living up to her name at the mention of a magic staff, 'cause she's moving at light speed

Come, now, we all knew Amity wouldn't be in this one.

Yo, uh, Bump's kinda, uh...😳

HAIR

So Frewin was Bump's palisman the whole time, huh?

There's the Bat Queen! Makes sense she would be involved in the palisman adoption process.

"Your loss!" Tell her, Willow!

Clover! Loving this already.

Boscha stans getting some juice today, I see

The way the students are reacting to finding their palismen is really setting up the inevitable gut punch when Luz doesn't match with one.

Reestablish contact with the giraffes? Oh, Gus.

(Makes you wonder what the deal with giraffes is. Then again, maybe it's just a running joke at this point)

Ah, here's the windup

Okay, we're going with full-on existential crisis, then. Poor Luz.

Connecticut? No wonder Luz doesn't fit in back home! She lives in friggin Connecticut, of all places!

Disclaimer: I have never been to Connecticut. I've heard plenty of people weigh in on it, though, and the general consensus seems to be that there isn't much to it.

Eda's up to something...

That cardinal really wants to go somewhere

That outfit being sleepwear makes sense, actually.

You'd think GG could leverage his position to requisition those palismen rather than go in for a heist, but bureaucracy doesn't make for a compelling story, I guess

Whistling the opening theme. Cute.

Okay, the whole fire glyph thing was funny

I did not expect this show to channel Looney Tunes as much as it has, but I'm okay with it.

Nice, Luz! Also, maybe that'll teach GG to keep his ship clean.

I think weird hand dragon might be sufficient to stop you, yes?

An assassination attempt? Oh, Kiki, you rascal.

Kiki really does not like GG

SLAP

I'm convinced they specifically wrote that moment to be memed

Oh, they're giving off some real sibling energy, huh? I'm into it! Especially if it quashes the possibility of a love triangle.

This place seems a bit more rough and tumble than Bonesborough

I see that mlm date in the background! Very nice

GG may be older than Luz, but she is definitely the more mature one.

That said, he does have a point about her not always thinking things through.

Thus begins the Enemy Mine segment.

"Too slow" yup sibling energy intensifies

He seems quite interested in the glyphs

Okay, them nerding out over magic together is a) adorable, and b) a solid argument for his inevitable face turn

Wait, so is GG actually related to Belos, or was he a foundling? Somewhat ambiguous here, at least to me. Hopefully that's explored.

"At least you have your future figured out now." "At least you can figure out your own."

Cardinal's gonna be his palisman, isn't it?

Luz finds it cute despite herself

The whole sleep mist thing is a hell of a strategy to have in your back pocket. Luz being super smart yet again.

God help me if I'm ever at a point in my life where Luz tells me to my face that I'm not her friend. I don't think I could handle it.😢

Hunter? A little on the nose given the circumstances.

Also, goddamnit the episode title was foreshadowing his name the whole time

Oh hi, Kiki, still awake?

Ooh, well-animated fight sequence let's goooo

It's somehow reassuring that Luz is as weirded out by Hand Dragon as I am

Hand Dragon just follows the whistle? So much for loyalty.

Ah, there's Eda!

What did they get into?! Maybe supplemental materials could go into these offscreen adventures? Please, Disney?

Robbing a garden club to acquire some rare wood so your surrogate daughter can make her own staff? If that isn't love I don't know what is!

And loving the way Eda emphasizes that there's no rush on carving the palisman. Amazing family moment.

As a contrast: fuck you, Belos, you piece of shit

"Outbursts" riiiiight

Belos giving out some Shadow Weaver vibes with Hunter, ngl

Uh oh, Kiki suspects

Hope someone picks up that phone, because I called it!

(I know I write these after watching through once already, shh)

Well, considering the things that were revealed and developed, this was a surprisingly low-key episode! To be honest I kind of welcome that, considering how the previous episodes have been. That said, fairly solid overall, and I can see why Hunter is Dana's favorite. A less charitable summation of his character might be "What if Luz but white boy," but I think he has enough unique characteristics to stand out.

I'm also glad for the breather because I think Eda's Requiem is gonna hit pretty hard. Can't wait for that!

[mysterytickingegos]

At Least We Have Us

Pairing(s): Darkiplier x Platonic!reader

Genre: Angsty with a fluffy end.

Word Count: 1,771

Summary: Strange things happened to those who didn’t leave that dreadful manor in time, and you were one of those people. Becoming something not quite human took some time to get used to, but at least you weren’t alone.

Anonymous Request: Platonic Dark with a soft Y/N that's basically very motherly of him despite being much younger? She cares a lot about him and looks up to him. Maybe she's his assistant and also experienced the events of WKM and Dark basically adopted her after that? Post-WKM please! I need Dark being a wise and over protective big brother rn Thank youuuu

Authors Note: I loved working on this one! It was a fun concept, thank you so much for the request!

Want to read more?

[Image Description: A gif of Mark from a vlog video giving a thumbs up to the camera, it has been edited to be gray with Darkipliers afterimages and colors, red and blue.]

Dark...That was such a strange name to call him, at first.

Damien had been a family friend. He was your neighbor, and your best friend’s uncle. When you were a teenager he was a respected member of the local government, a man who hid away in a study and worked far too hard. Eventually with enough pushing from Ophelia, he was your boss, having given you an internship in city hall that Elli really didn’t want. You considered him a friend. Maybe not a close friend, but he was someone you trusted and respected and he would say the same about you.

You jogged up the stairs to the office, dodging past people while muttering quick apologies to anyone who had something to say about it. When you got there, you heard the laughter of your friend through the door and cracked it open. Ophelia was desperately trying to catch her breath between giggles, of course because Damien was telling another story about your completely sophisticated soon-to-be DA. He was surprisingly relaxed, leaning back on his desk and talking with his hands quite a bit.

“But of course, that doesn’t stop them, they run down the street- Oh, Y/n please come in. You’ll want to hear this.” He gestured to the empty chair beside Elli, but when you didn’t move from the doorway, both their faces fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” You tilted your head at them, not realizing how you looked, pale and out of breath. “Damien, they’re done counting. You won.”

He was in shock for a few moments, only standing up a bit straighter as he processed your words. “I won? I’m...?”

“You’re going to be the Mayor.” Ophelia finished for him, just before all three of you started laughing and cheering and jumping around.

In many conversations there were moments where you would catch a glimpse of the person you used to know, and in the beginning you would get a heavy heart. You weren’t ready to let him go, to accept that he was somebody else now. Perhaps that’s because it would mean accepting you were somebody else, too.

None of the guests from that damned party left the manor the same.

You heard it so clearly, a stranger’s voice coaxing you up the stairs, quietly whispering your name over and over as you slipped away from the rowdy party. You were practically hypnotized, not thinking about who it could possibly be or their intentions as they lead you to a room that sent chills down your spine the moment you opened the door. It was a room filled with trinkets of the occult, books with terrifying symbols, and scribbles of a mad man on papers scattered all over.

“You’re not supposed to be in here.” You heard a growl from a new voice, just behind you. The person shoved you inside the room and slammed the door as you hit the ground. “In fact, I could’ve sworn this was going to be hidden from all of you.”

You stood up as quickly as you could, turning to see the host of the party scowling at you. “I wasn’t...I was just looking for Elli.” You said quickly, brushing off your clothes.

“The same Elli that told you she was going to lay down for the night a couple of hours ago?” He stepped closer, slowly, ominously.

You thought back to that conversation, spoken quietly, just the two of you on the staircase while everyone else was still playing poker. “How could you even know about that?”

Mark grinned at you, sinister and cold. He gestured around the room, to the books and trinkets. “Things aren’t as they seem here, Y/n. Ever since Celine...left me here, the things in this house had opened my mind to things I never could’ve imagined.” A short laugh bubbled out of him. “I can do anything.”

“You’ve gone mad.” You whispered, backing away. You’d heard bits and pieces of the Iplier drama from Damien, having vented his concerns to you over cups of coffee during work since the day you got your invitations. But you knew now that he had no idea.

“Perhaps they were trying to do the same for you, but I’ve come too far for some kid to screw it all up now.” He turned on his feet and left the room, shutting the door behind him. You rushed over to it, trying to twist the knob before he got a chance to lock it. But it was far too late. You banged on the door and screamed for help until your voice went hoarse, but the room had in fact been hidden away. You were surrounded by taunting spirits in a room that nobody existed, for what felt like weeks. You could feel them gnawing away at bits and pieces of you after that, an itchy feeling under your heart, changing you. Truly, time had been warped, and only one day had passed before you were found by someone who was now immune to the houses secrets and cloaks. And he didn’t say anything, but clearly something had happened to you too.

Funny thing about living forever? (Or at least as long as you have,) It’s not that great, in fact it’s actually very lonely. The world changes around you, and you don’t change that much at all. You often have to leave, not wanting the attention of being the same age after living or working somewhere for 20 or 30 years. Or you get too attached to somebody and you know you will lose them, now or later.

But you weren’t alone. Despite his anger towards Mark, how badly he wanted revenge, Dark kept very close to you. Especially after he learned what happened to his niece, he was going to keep you safe above all else. Mark learned that the hard way when he tried to silence you too, only to find an empty house and a rather cheeky note.

“Catch me if you can.”

Another funny thing, you didn’t even know the power that you had when you first wrote that. As far as you knew you were a normal girl waiting out the storm. But eventually waiting got pretty tiresome.

“How could you be so foolish?” Dark called after you as you both stormed back into the house.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that big a deal.” You huffed, tossing your jacket away.

His image faltered and glitched at what you said. “Not a big deal? You have the gift of longevity, you are NOT impervious to bullets!”

You flopped down into the armchair, crossing your arms. “We don’t know that yet.”

“You sprained your ankle tripping on air last month, I think it’s safe to say.” For a moment you could’ve sworn he smiled. If it wasn’t at your expense, you might’ve been happy. “You wonder why I hover,”

“Someone had to step in and do something.”

“Why did it have to be you?!”

“Because!” You twisted around in the chair to face him, fighting back tears. “I’m bored! I’m sick of living like a hermit! I’m tired of these stupid towns in the middle of nowhere and never having any friends...it’s been almost a century Dark, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

He pierced his lips, having to look away from you before he got emotional himself. “So this is your plan? Play hero until you run out of luck?”

“Or we can stop hiding. We can try and live our lives, instead of just surviving. I mean, what's the point if we’re completely miserable?”

“And what about him?”

“To hell with Mark, what about you?” Your voice was softer now. “I can work, and shop and be neighborly. But you...you’ve been stuck in the shadows, holding onto your hate all this time. Maybe you don’t believe it after everything that’s happened, but you deserve better.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What then? Where do you want to go?”

“How about we go home?”

‘Home’ was California, LA specifically. Sure, you could’ve gone back to your hometown but you were both part of a rather famous local mystery and you agreed it was for the best to stay away.

The sun had set a little bit ago and the streets were only illuminated by signs and street lights, that was the only way he’d agree to go out into the city with you, in the dark. Fair enough, he didn’t want to attract attention to himself. Luckily, you’d made some good friends in the last few months, friends like Mike.

“Ah, bonjour!” Mike greeted cheerfully as you and Dark approached the window, before ducking into his shop to get you both a bowl of ice cream. “I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

You nudged Dark over to one of the tables and leaned in the window. “I didn’t mean for it to take so long, thanks for keeping the shop open late for us.”

“Don’t mention it. I actually have a cousin with really bad anxiety, so I get it.” He passed you two bowls with a smile.

Dark squinted at you when you came back to the table. ‘Anxiety?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t have anxiety.”

“You’re right, I should’ve told him the truth. You and your sister possessed your best friend in the 1920′s to escape a place called the upside down, but sometimes you drag bits and pieces of it into the real world and that would probably scare the locals in broad daylight.” You didn’t miss a beat in your little rant, scooping some ice cream into your mouth as soon as you were done.

He chuckled and shook his head at you. “I’m supposed to be the one lecturing you on being subtle.”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s been covering for us the past 91 years. It’s your turn to follow my lead.” You said matter-of-factly, pointing your spoon at him, before you dove back into your bowl. You missed the ‘fair-enough’ nod he gave you and the pride written all over his face, another glimpse of someone you used to know. “You know, maybe you should bring you-know-who here someday.”

His eyes went wide and he shook your words off just a little too quickly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So you don’t have a thing for his new friend that you’re watching out for?”

“Stop it. Stop it right now.”

“Fine,” You put your hands up in mock surrender, “But you know I’m right.”

[css1992]

Such a softer sin

Summary: Tony is a self-made man. Peter is a sugar baby – someone else’s sugar baby.

When he turned to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

Warnings: Explicit, 18+, mentions of non-con (not between main pairing, not explicit), age gap, power imbalance, employer/employee relationship, underage drinking. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

Word count:18.4k

-x-

He was admittedly gorgeous, Tony could give him that. The honey brown eyes, the bouncy, fluffy curls and the clear, pale skin worked perfectly in his favor – he looked the part of the innocent, wholesome, young man ready to be swept off his feet and taken care of. Powerful men often liked that act, liked believing that they were deflowering innocence for the first time, liked believing they were wanted, needed. Tony knew better, though, he knew the type, he came across people like him all through his life.

When he was a broke, orphaned, half-starved college student, they wouldn’t give him the time of  day. Snobby, pretty, little things like him only had eyes and time for those who had money, or something to offer – fame, influence, status. At the time, Tony had nothing, he could barely afford to eat everyday. After he graduated from MIT, he started working for Hammer Industries and as he started making more money, slowly, these people started taking notice of him, and he, too, started paying closer attention to them.

They weren’t difficult to spot either, they were usually young, attractive, with beautiful, fake smiles, weak personalities and a penchant for expensive gifts. It was easy to recognize them hanging off powerful men’s arms at functions, and dinners, and galas; bespoke suits or designer dresses covering their bodies, not a lot to add to the conversation. They were accessories, trophies. Pets.

Tony hated them. People who wanted to be at the very top, but couldn’t be bothered to take the stairs. They would use their pretty faces, feigned innocence, beautiful bodies and cute, fake laughs, to get farther faster. Not Tony. He did it the right way – the hard way –, worked day and night to get to his goal, got beat down so many times there were days he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand back up, but he did, every single time.

And time and experience made him wiser, smarter and bitter. At 40, he was finally able to start his own company, Stark Industries, it started small, but his genius inventions put his name on the map fairly quickly. That was how, five years later, he found himself having dinner with Norman Osborn, the most powerful man in New York, and his – boy toy? Sugar baby? Escort? Or something – discussing the possibility of a deal so big it could finally make Stark Industries live up to its full potential.

“So what I’m saying is that we can offer you the best and most advanced technology out there: my nanobots. I guarantee you it will make your job easier, faster and cheaper in the long run. I assure you, this a great deal and you should take it.” Tony was absolutely sure of what he was saying, he knew his product was good, his tech was flawless, he just needed to get it out there. He just needed a company like Oscorps to believe in him, then his work would speak for itself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Stark, I think this whole nanotech thing is way too expensive and unnecessary, specially considering that I’m pretty sure Baintronics could do the same work for half the price, the old-fashioned way, which has been working just fine for the past decade.” Fuck, no, that old bat wasn’t looking at the big picture, he wasn’t thinking about the long run. Of course old tech would still get the job done, but Tony’s tech could do such a better job and so much more efficiently.

“No, but you see, that’s–”

“But –“ Norman raised a hand, successfully shutting Tony up and annoying the living hell out of him in the process. One day, he thought to himself, one day I’ll be able to say ‘fuck you’ to men like Norman Osborn. One day. “I’m willing to give it a try. Peter here says you’re the best at what you do, he’s the one who recommended that I agreed to meet with you, actually, when your PA called.”

Tony was taken aback by that information and eyed the young man carefully, causing him to blush a deep red and lower his gaze with a small, timid smile. Tony thought he was faking the whole thing, trying to be cute and sweet, but fuck – it worked for him. He seemed really young, maybe in his early twenties, and Tony had no idea how he could have heard of him, he wasn’t exactly famous, nor was S.I. His breakthroughs were only ever published in very specific scientific journals.

“I’m a huge fan of your work, Mr. Stark, I’ve always told Norman you two should work together, you’re both men ahead of your time.” He said quietly. He had a high-pitched, slightly feminine voice, which probably also worked in his favor with men like Osborn. It made him sound younger than he probably was, easier to manipulate and dominate.

Reluctantly, Tony accepted the compliment with a tight smile. He really needed that deal, he really needed for that to work, it would be the break SI needed, he could feel it, he could already taste the success.

“Very well, so here’s my offer. You will supply Oscorps with your nanotech for a year, then we can take it from there. This would be your cut for this first year.” Osborn wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it towards Tony across the table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the numbers – and the amount of zeros –, but he pretended to be cool about it, he even put on a show of looking slightly disappointed. “And there’s a lot more where this comes from, Stark. This could be the beginning of a beautiful, and mutually beneficial, friendship.”

“I do hope it is, Mr. Osborn. I look forward to working with your company. I’m sure we’re gonna be a great fit.” Tony tried to sound cool and professional, but he was having a little heart attack on the inside. He had been trying to schedule a meeting with Norman for months and the billionaire – or, most likely, his PA – kept making excuses. Now there he was, closing a huge deal with the promise of a mutually beneficial friendship in the future.

After that, he could breathe more easily during dinner. He couldn’t wait to tell Pepper, Bruce and Nat, though, they had to celebrate properly, maybe they could all go to his apartment and finally crack open that Macallan he bought when he made his first million. But meanwhile, he was stuck in the restaurant with Norman and his boy-toy, which he wouldn’t complain too much about, at least it was a nice view.

Again, there was no denial that the boy was beautiful. There was just something naturally sensual and charismatic about him, Tony couldn’t avoid looking his way, even when he wasn’t talking. And when he did talk, it was magnetic. He didn’t say much, as Tony expected, but what he didn’t expect was for him to be so smart. The few times he said anything was to ask questions about his tech, and those were surprisingly pertinent. Sometime along the night, Tony figured out that he was studying to become a mechanical engineer at Columbia and he wondered if Norman had anything to do with it – probably.

Tony was reminded of his own college years, of how he had to work his ass off to get a scholarship, and how many crazy hours he had to work to make ends meet, just to be able to build something for himself. He didn’t seek the help of men like Norman, although he could have. The name Stark meant something, once upon a time. His father was considered a gifted inventor, he was respected by huge companies, but he never built anything of his own.

When he died, Tony was only eleven. He still didn’t know exactly what happened, but soon after that, his mother lost everything he had left – which wasn’t much to begin with. She was never quite herself again, she was so depressed, she never even smiled anymore, she sometimes didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, Tony was the one doing the house chores, cooking for her, trying to make sure she was okay. She died eight years later from an aneurysm, Tony found her lying on the couch, looking peaceful for the first time in so many years.

In short, he never had it easy, and he never tried to make it easier for himself either – at least not in shady ways. He just wanted to do the right thing, even if it took longer – which it did. He was a forty-five year old man, but he made a name for himself, the name Stark held respect once again.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” The young man got up after a quick peck to Norman’s lips and headed to the bathroom. Tony made a huge effort and pointedly did not stare at his ass as he left. He was really proud of himself for that, maybe two years earlier he wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, he had no shame. At least now he had some. A little. Sort of.

“What do you think of him?” Norman had a neutral expression on, he gave nothing away, but it seemed like a test. What sort of question was that, why did it matter what Tony thought of his fuck toy?

“He seems really smart,” he answered with a small smile. It was a polite, diplomatic answer, and not untrue.

“What else?” Norman pushed, with a knowing smirk, and Tony almost cursed under his breath, thinking that maybe he’d been too obvious with his staring all through dinner, after all.

“He’s very pretty,” he admitted, although still with his cool, professional face on. Norman’s smirk grew wider.

“He sure is. Cute pet. Smart, polite, funny. You should get one for yourself, Stark. They’re kinda expensive, but worth every penny.” His shark-like smile took over his whole face and Tony had to fight back a grimace. He just smiled and shook his head no.

“Not really my style, sir.” Buying people, paying for sex, that sort of thing, he wanted to add.

“It’s not anyone’s style until it is.” He gave Tony a once over and smirked. “We’re not getting any younger.” The engineer was offended, he wanted to tell him he aged like good wine, unlike certain people, but refrained. He just gave him a strained smile and took a sip of his drink.  

As if on cue, the pretty boy returned to the table and Tony took a couple of seconds to appreciate his outfit. He wore a dark blue suit, very elegant and very expensive looking, certainly a gift from Osborn, and it fit him like a glove. Tony supposed it was bespoke. It complimented his lithe, lean body beautifully.

When he turned around to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

“So, come by the office on Monday, we’ll talk over all the details, then you can take the draft contract to your legal team and we can meet again – say, in another week?”

“Yeah, sure, this sounds perfect,” he answered coolly, not mentioning that his “legal team” consisted of one single Natasha Romanoff, who would have his balls for dinner when she found out that she would only have seven days to look over what was bound to be a very long, very complex contract.

“Well, then, Mr. Stark. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Norman got up from his chair, what clearly meant dinner was over, and Tony rushed to his feet, offering his had to shake.

“You won’t regret this, sir,” he spoke in a strong, firm voice, because he was positive of it.

“Good.” Osborn shook his hand once and turned to leave without saying goodbye.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Stark, I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” The pretty boy took his hand as well, eyes glinting, a coy smile on his face. Tony couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was pretending to be shy, but he ignored it and just nodded curtly.

“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, too.” He didn’t dare try to remember his name, Tony was pretty sure it started with a P, but he wouldn’t risk it.

As soon as they left the restaurant, the CEO punched the air in celebration, calling Pepper right away.

---*---

The meeting on Monday went smoothly, they agreed that Tony would be personally charged with the maintenance of his tech at least a week a month – he made it seem like it was a courtesy, but, in reality, he still didn’t have anyone on his team who could do the job quite as well as he could. They also agreed that he would have a small team of five scientists at his disposal during such period, so he wouldn’t have to dislodge anyone from his company to do it – again, he didn’t mention that five people were basically half of his scientific team and he couldn’t afford them not working for SI for a whole week each month.

As expected, he didn’t see the pretty boy in the meeting, Tony supposed he only made an appearance in social functions and such, so he could make Norman look good. To Tony’s surprise, though, seven days later, after Natasha bullied him into promising a 10% raise after the shit he’d pulled with the contract, the pretty boy was in the meeting room when he arrived to sign the deal. Norman’s PA and a few of his lawyers were there as well, Tony was with Pepper and Natasha, and he quickly whispered to Pepper that he was the boy he’d told her about. He approached them with a shy, nervous smile and Tony almost wanted to roll his eyes at the facade.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker, I’m an intern here.” Ah, Peter. That sounded about right. Tony thought it was something along those lines. And he was an intern for Oscorps, of course. What a joke. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stark. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hello, Mr. Parker, this is Miss Potts, my assistant, and this is Miss Romanoff, head of my legal team. I’ll have a coffee – black, no sugar. Thank you.” Again, he kept it professional and barely even looked at the kid, he knew what he looked like and he knew he was off limits, so why tease himself by looking?

“I’m good.” Natasha smiled sweetly, making the boy blush even harder.

“I’ll have the same as Mr. Stark, thank you, Mr. Parker.” Peter quickly turned and headed out of the room and Pepper turned to whisper to him. “You weren’t kidding, he’s really fucking young, he looks like he could be Norman’s grandson, for Christ’s sake.” Tony snorted and Natasha eyed them knowingly, but with a look that screamed “behave” and they both schooled their expressions. Shortly after, the boy walked back in with their coffee and they thanked him, as he blushed and nodded, taking a seat to the left of what should be Osborn’s chair.  

The meeting didn’t take long at all, everything had already been discussed, it was just a formality, so barely twenty minutes later they were all getting up from their seats, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Tony was almost out of the room when he felt a hand at his elbow followed by a softly spoken, “Mr. Stark, can I have a word?”.

Of course the devil himself would tempt him, even if Tony was trying to be good. He was forced to turn around and actually look at the young man, he was wearing a lavender dress shirt, with a dark gray tie and black pants. He looked like the cutest little businessman ever, and Tony was sure that if Peter were to turn his back, he would be presented with his perfect bubble butt looking amazing in those slacks, but – he was the forbidden fruit. Besides, Tony mused, he probably couldn’t afford a single night with Peter, he was only a millionaire, after all, and he’d rather spend his money on shiny things and get his lays for free.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” The boy’s cheeks were impossibly red and Tony figured he couldn’t really fake that, so he supposed he really was shy to some degree. He looked over his shoulder and saw Pepper and Natasha waiting just outside the door, warning looks on their faces, and he rolled his eyes.

“I was wondering – I talked to No--, I mean, Mr. Osborn, about the possibility of maybe, uhm. Working with you? When you come to do the maintenance, I mean. It’s just, we don’t really have an engineering department, so you would be working mainly with biochemists and a few lab techs, so I thought maybe I could assist you with the hands-on work, you know? I don’t know if Mr. Osborn mentioned, but I’m studying to become a mechanical engineer as well and it would be an honor working with you, sir. Mr. Osborn said it was ok as long as you agreed, so...” He shuffled his feet and avoided looking at the older man.

“Look, kid.” Tony sighed, because, fuck. How could he say no to Norman’s boy without being rude? And how could he say yes to working with someone who was clearly useless to him and would only serve as a distraction – and worse, a temptation. He needed a way out of that. “I don’t really know if there would be much for you to do, I mean, it’s pretty new and advanced technology, and you’re, what, a freshman, right?”

“Actually, I’ll graduate next fall, sir.” Tony was taken aback by that and it must have shown on his face if Peter’s answering blush was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry, how old are you again?” He asked, trying not to sound too rude.

“I’ll be twenty in August, sir.” If Tony was impressed by that, he didn’t let it show, but if the kid would manage to graduate from Columbia at twenty, then he must not be that useless after all, but Tony wouldn’t hold his breath.

“Very well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a month, Mr. Parker.” He nodded and Peter could barely contain his grin when he shook his hand excitedly. It was cute and endearing and – oh, God, Tony almost fell for his little act. Fuck, he really needed to be on his toes around that guy.

“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it!”

As soon as Tony stepped out of the building and headed towards his car with Natasha and Pepper on his heels, the Russian red-head looked at him seriously.

“Tony, I swear to God, if you try to get your dick wet with that boy, I quit. I’m not even gonna start on how much legal and PR trouble you’re gonna get yourself into by fucking Norman’s boyfriend, specially considering he’s, like, twelve, and happens to work for your business partner. Don’t fuck this up!” She warned as she got inside the car and, again, Tony had to roll his eyes as he got behind the wheel.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, if the circumstances were different, I’d be all over that,” he admitted, noticing Pep’s aggravated look. “But of course I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize this deal, ok? Besides, you know how I feel about gold diggers. You saw him and you saw Osborn, why in the fucking hell a guy like him would fuck a mummy like Osborn? He’s, like, a hundred years old!”

“He’s fifty five, and I don’t know if you know this, Tony, but people have sex for reasons that go beyond appearances. You know, like love, affinity, connection –”

“-- Money, fame, status. C’mon, Pep, don’t be naive. Do you really think that boy loves Osborn? He just likes expensive restaurants and fancy cars. Maybe, if he’s thinking big, he’s gonna use him to get a good job after graduation, but that’s it.”

“Well, then, if you think he’s such a terrible person, you’ll have no problem staying the hell away from him, right?” She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he looked away from the traffic for a second to smirk at her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, easy breezy.”

--*--

As it turned out, it wasn’t easy breezy.

Peter was like a lost puppy trailing after him the following month, he spent the whole week glued to his hip, asking questions, making suggestions, and even supplying him with a never ending amount of coffee. If Tony was a hundred percent honest, he kinda liked it. The kid seriously treated him like a hero, a celebrity, he seemed to look up to him and, in the end, he proved to be a valuable asset on the team. He was really smart and hardworking, he understood everything Tony was saying even before he was done talking and he had really steady, tiny hands, which were always useful with nanotech.

Tony couldn’t really stay away from him and slowly learned a few things about him from what little information he stuttered out when answering his questions. First, the older man learned that he got into Columbia when he was only sixteen, which was kind of amazing, if he was being completely honest. Tony wanted to believe that that had happened way before he met Norman Osborn, but he didn’t really know when they met.

He had a scholarship and lived with his aunt until she passed away a little over a year earlier and now he shared an apartment with four other people, which surprised Tony, he figured Norman would have hooked him up with a nice place – but then again, he had no idea when they met, it could have been only months earlier. Peter said that, originally, he wanted to go to MIT, but he only got a partial scholarship there, so he had to give it up and go to Columbia. He also said that that was how he knew Tony beforehand. The older man was sort of a famous MIT alumnus, specially among the engineering students, so Peter heard of him and followed his work through scientific publications, which was – well, Tony was flattered.

Even if those bits of information somewhat made Tony warm up to the young man, other few things still annoyed him just as much. First of all, clearly Peter was a very bright kid, possibly one of the smartest people Tony knew besides himself and Bruce, he didn’t really need Norman’s influence to succeed, and still, there he was. Second, he quickly picked up on the fact that Peter wasn’t exactly Norman’s boyfriend, he was more of a… Sugar baby? And one of many, actually, although he seemed to be the favorite. After Tony signed the deal, he started paying closer attention to what tabloids said about Norman and apparently he had a very long list of (young) lovers, but he was officially single.

Somehow, that made Tony even more disgusted by their relationship. He just couldn’t understand why a guy like Peter would put himself in that position, for what? Money? A job? What was it that Norman could offer him that he couldn’t get himself? The thing was, Peter kind of reminded Tony of himself at that age. He was pretty much in the same situation: he had no family and no money, he only had his brains – and while Tony had made something out of it, Peter was trying to take a shortcut and the engineer didn’t appreciate that.

“Here, check this out, see how they respond a lot faster now?” Tony made room so that the younger man could look through the microscope, a wide grin spreading across his face in a few seconds. “You have to think of them as neurons, they communicate with each other by electrical pulses, similar to synapses. For that to work out perfectly and seamlessly, they need to be really close by, without touching, that’s why the electromagnetic field has to be perfect, if it’s just a tiny bit off, the response time increases exponentially. Got it?”

“Got it, Mr. Stark!” He answered excitedly and Tony smiled at him.

“Well, my work here is done. See you next month?” Tony got up from his chair, gathering his things around the lab.

“I can’t wait." Somehow, Tony knew he actually meant it.

The following month, Peter was just as helpful and just as excited as the month before. He was in the lab before Tony – who was always early himself – and he always greeted him with a bright smile and an excited wave of his hand. As the engineer settled his things on his work bench, Peter would get him coffee, and he always remembered how Tony liked it. They got right to work, which they did everyday for a week without any disruption. The intern always offered to stay late, but Tony never took him up on that, he knew he had classes in the afternoon and he didn’t want him to get in trouble. Just as he was starting to warm up to him, though, on Friday, the engineer was reminded why he didn’t like him in the first place.

“You’re late, Mr. Parker.” Tony mumbled from his seat in front of the microscope as soon as he heard the glass door open with a hiss as the smell of coffee filled the room. Peter was only twelve minutes late, but it was only their second week working together, it didn’t seem very professional.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I was – uh, in a meeting with Mr. Osborn.” He lied through his teeth, Tony could almost smell the nervousness when he came close enough. He hated being lied to, specially when he knew what Peter was probably doing in that “meeting”. It was just inexcusable.

“Just because you’re Norman’s boy doesn’t mean you get special treatment in this lab, you hear me? I don’t care what you do with him all the other weeks that I’m not here, but if you wanna be a part of my team, during my lab hours, you gotta be here and on time. Are we clear?” He didn’t bother lifting his eyes from the microscope and almost missed the whispered and wavered, “yes, sir” that Peter let out. When he turned to the younger man, his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were rumpled, his face ashen and his lower lip was wobbling, he looked like he had a rough night and an early morning, and he looked like he was holding back tears. Tony almost regretted the harsh treatment. Almost. “Is this my coffee?” He pointed at the cup, averting his gaze.

“Yes, sir.” He answered quickly, offering the beverage like a gift.

On his third month there, Tony tried to keep his distance from the younger man. He promised Natasha and Pepper that he would and, up until that point, he hadn’t been very successful. So during the week of March that he had to go to Oscorps, he avoided the younger man, made himself unavailable and charged him with boring and complicated tasks that should take all week to get done. Still, the boy did everything he was told and only took half the time expected, he was always on time and always, always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it. It was really hard to ignore him.  

“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee, right? It’s not in your job description.” Tony felt the need to point out on Friday when he saw the boy walking in with the beverage, but he just shrugged and smiled a little.

“I know, I just want to make sure you have everything you need, sir. Besides, I used to work at a coffee shop, I don’t mind making your coffee.” When he said that, Tony’s brows shot into his hairline.

“You made this?” He asked, incredulously, and the boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, where did you think this came from?” He frowned, amused.

“Uh, I don’t know, some fucking gourmet coffee shop downstairs?” Peter laughed, genuinely laughed, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in the most endearing way, as he shook his head.

“You’re funny, Mr. Stark.”  

Peter was the funny one, actually, and the whole thing was just so confusing to Tony. He thought he had the younger man all figured out, he thought he knew what kind of person he was, what he was after, but sometimes Peter would do or say things that just didn’t add up to Tony’s assumptions. The boy was kind and generous and humble, he was proactive and hardworking, and so annoyingly nice. He was easy to talk to, too, sometimes they’d have whole conversations about the most random subjects as they worked and Tony would only realize what they did at the end of the day, as he left and Peter waved at him with that charming smile and it made something burn in Tony’s chest and he couldn’t figure out why.  

On his fourth month there, Peter surprised him on the first day. He brought him coffee in a mug that read: “If it ain’t broke, take it apart and fix it”. Usually, his coffee was put in a styrofoam cup with Oscorps logo on it, he had no idea where the mug came from, and when he asked, the boy blushed slightly, shuffling his feet.

“Uhm, actually – I heard it was your birthday last week, so I just – I mean, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be inappropriate or anything, it’s just – the environment and stuff. So. Uh – happy birthday?” He looked really uncomfortable just saying that, and Tony was equal parts amused and amazed, so he  dropped his eyes back to the simple, white mug with bright red letters.

“That’s – actually really nice, Peter. Thank you.” He looked back at the young man and his cheeks were burning red. It was really… fucking cute. Fuck.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark.” His answering tiny smile warmed the older man’s heart, but he swallowed whatever feeling dared to emerge.

By Tony’s fifth month working with Oscorps, things finally started to feel natural, pleasant. When he arrived in the morning, he greeted everyone by name, threw smiles and flirty comments here and there and walked the hallways like he owned the place. His team worked like a well-oiled machine and they were always early, specially Peter, after that one time he was late. When he arrived, they already had a head start on him, which was always good, and they were able to go home a little earlier everyday.

“Good morning, everybody.” Tony raised his head when he heard Norman’s voice, a little surprised. Aside from his first day there, he hadn’t seen the old man at all, so it was weird for him to be in the lab, specially so early.

“Mr. Osborn, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony asked, watching closely as the older man walked towards Peter, who avoided his gaze furiously, pretending to be focused on his work, although it was clear that he was barely breathing. Norman grinned in his direction, but didn’t say anything, and Tony raised an eyebrow at the interaction.

“Miss Watson let me know you would be here today, so I thought I’d personally invite you to our annual Charity Gala, it will take place next month, on the eleventh. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes, of course, sir, I can move some stuff around.” Fucking hell, he hated those functions. A bunch of assholes kissing other assholes’s butts and pretending to be good citizens by donating to charity only for the press. Just his type of event. But nonetheless, the type of event he needed to be seen in, someplace where he could meet people and make connections.

“Great, I’ll send the formal invitation to Stark Industries, I look forward to seeing you there. Mr. Stark.” He nodded in his direction and Tony did the same. “Mr. Parker.” He turned towards the young man who still hadn’t looked up. His cheeks burned a bright red when he looked at the older man.

“Mr. Osborn.” He gritted his teeth and, again, Norman grinned, buttoning his suit jacket as he left the lab.

Hm. Odd.

--*--

“At least pretend to be having a good time, Tony.” Pepper whispered through her teeth, a fake smile plastered on as she waved to people Tony could barely recognize. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown, his birthday gift to her, apparently, and not for the first time Tony wondered what would have been if he hadn’t blown things up with her. If he hadn’t cheated on her with half the city when they were in college. He was a stupid, stupid boy in his twenties. And thirties. And early forties.

It was a work in progress.

“I am pretending, don’t I look convincing?” He turned to look at her with what he was certain was a terrible grimace and she snorted into her champagne glass, causing them both to giggle like stupid teenagers. He was glad she had agreed to go as his plus one, he would have blown his brains for sure if he was alone in there.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark.” Ah, Tony could recognize that sweetly high-pitched voice from miles away, but when he turned around he wasn’t ready for such a vision. Peter was wearing a gorgeous burgundy suit with a black, silk shirt underneath, as well as a black tie. His hair was perfectly swept to the side, his curls tamed for once, but still showing at the nape of his neck. He looked absolutely beautiful and fucking expensive. Tony wanted to unwrap him, then wreck him in the best possible way. “And Miss Potts, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to see you again,” she answered pleasantly and Tony was glad she was there because he was sure that he was staring for way too long to be polite. He cleared his throat and smiled at the young man, who quickly slipped into character looking shyly at him from under his eyelashes.

“Mr. Parker, fancy seeing you here,” Tony spoke confidently, subtly looking around for Norman, but he was nowhere to be seen. “And where’s Mr. Osborn?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.” He averted his gaze, his tiny and usually steady hands trembling a little, before closing into fists. “Well, it was nice seeing you –“

“Hey, c’mon, have a drink with us,” Tony interrupted him, sensing his discomfort.

“Oh, uh – I’m sorry, sir, I’m not old enough to drink.” Tony was almost taken aback by that fact. The amount of information that he carried in that brilliant brain of his did not compute with his age.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. Neither will Miss Potts, right?” Tony turned to look at Pepper, only to see her staring daggers at him, in a way that probably only he could tell, they had a special way of communicating, so he quickly sent her a “what?” glare and she sighed.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of this and I’m just gonna go talk to Mrs. Bain, if you’ll excuse me, please.” She smiled sweetly at Peter and walked away from them, as Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well, her loss.” The older man shrugged, grabbing two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. “Have you ever had one of these?” He asked, offering him one of the glasses. “I’m not corrupting you, am I?” Tony asked charmingly, with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. Peter giggled,  blushing and shaking his head no.

“No, it’s okay, Norman usually gets me a few drinks when we’re out,” he answered, accepting the glass. Just the mention of the older man had Tony deflating slightly, reminded of the fact that Peter couldn’t be his.

“So, how come you didn’t come together?” He asked innocently, although he knew it was probably a touchy subject. The younger man took a long sip of his drink, licking his wet lips once he was done, and Tony wished it was his tongue running across those thin, pink lips.

“He’d rather bring another date, so.” He shrugged with a small, fake smile, and quickly changed the subject. “I’ve recently read that you’re working on a holographic system that’s supposed to connect with the user's hippocampus and project their memories, is that true?” Tony was surprised by that, he had written a paper about it with Bruce not long before, Peter must really keep up with his work.

“Yeah, but I’m in a bit of a pickle right now, got stuck with the neuroscience portion of it.” Tony scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed about the admission, but Peter only smiled wider.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And it’s gonna be groundbreaking. Again. Well, it seems like everything you do changes the world somehow.” His cheeks were flushed, and maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe Tony was falling for Peter’s little game, but he thought he was actually flirting with him. Really flirting, not “I wanna be your sugar baby” flirting.

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me, kid.” Tony dared to step a little closer to him and the young man bit his lower lip, holding back a smile, cheeks flushing pink.

“Yeah, but I think you can back it up.” He tilted his head back a little to look up at the older man. Tony held his gaze for a few seconds, before he dropped it to his lips. He smiled when the young man nervously licked them.

“I’m sorry I’m too hard on you in the lab. I just don’t want anyone thinking that I treat you differently because of the boss.” Tony took yet another step and Peter didn’t move an inch, allowing him to get closer and closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just thankful to be in your team, I’m learning a lot.” This time, Tony was sure he wasn’t imagining things, Peter’s eyes definitely dropped to stare at his lips and the engineer inhaled sharply.

“Peter –“

“Ah, there you are.” Norman appeared out of thin air and Tony took three steps back, a cool smile on his face. Osborn was accompanied by a gorgeous blonde girl who couldn’t be older than twenty five, she was tall and slender, and looked like a supermodel – and she probably was. “Good evening, Mr. Stark. Pete.”

“Good evening, Mr. Osborn,” Tony answered with a schooled smile, not sure if he was in trouble for giving Peter champagne, but the CEO barely seemed to notice it when he turned to the younger man, who didn’t even bother to answer him.

“How do you like the party so far?” He asked politely, although his gaze was fixed on Peter. His date seemed bored out of her mind, but she eyed Tony with interest and the older man had to avert his gaze, he really didn’t need yet another sin to avoid.

“It’s great, sir,” Tony answered politely, but the older man didn’t really seem to care.

“Good, good. Do you mind if I borrow Peter for a little while?” He eyed the younger man and Peter grit his teeth, his hand tightening around the champagne flute.

“No, sure, he’s all yours.” He gestured towards the boy and he looked back at him with a look of betrayal on his face. Tony raised his eyebrows, not sure what Peter expected him to do, but the young man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Come on, Peter, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” And with that, he led the way, confident that the boy would follow behind, which he did, after downing the rest of his drink, shooting one last pleading look Tony’s way. Again, the older man had no idea what he wanted.  

Once they left, Tony quickly found Pepper in the crowd as she chatted with Justin Hammer, the biggest asshole to ever exist in the corporate world. He stole all of Tony’s projects when the engineer worked for him, all the weapons the U.S.A. Army used ten years earlier were designed by Tony and he never got any credit for that. Two years after he quit Hammer Industries, they lost that contract because they simply had nothing new to offer.  

“Good evening, Mr Hammer, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take my date elsewhere, someplace where the toxicity level is more bearable. Bye.” Tony interrupted them unceremoniously and steered Pepper away from him as she threw apologies over her shoulder. “Don’t apologize to him, he’s trash.”

“Tony, you can’t act like this if you wanna be the CEO of the biggest tech company in the country. You need to make connections and keep good relation –“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that with anyone else, except for him, promise.” He rolled his eyes once they got to the bar, where he leaned on the counter and flirted with the barman, before ordering two drinks.

“Great, then I hope you intend to keep a good relationship with Mr. Osborn,” she whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. “Just a quick reminder: fucking his boyfriend is not very friendly.”

“Peter’s not his boyfriend,” he answered automatically, before taking a sip of his scotch, his eyes scanning the room until he found the younger man in a small circle of people, along with Mr. Osborn and his date. Tony hated that so much, the boy looked devastated but he was still there. Why the fuck was he still there? He didn’t need that shit. “They didn’t even come together today.”

“Okay, not the answer I was looking for, not a reassuring answer at all.” Pepper spoke to herself under her breath, then grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Tony Stark, I hope you’re not –“

“Jesus, relax!” He snapped, freeing his face from her grip. “You and Natasha are driving me mad with this, I swear to God, the more you tell me not to do it, the more I wanna do it, just out of spite. Leave it alone, will ya?”

“Fine, whatever, do what you want, that always works out perfectly for you,” she snapped right back, taking her drink from the counter and walking away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face!”

Tony ignored her, they always had those arguments – she was usually right, Tony usually fucked up somehow and he usually went crying to her anyway, and she always helped him, so whatever. He was slightly tipsy, anyway, he would regret the whole thing in the morning, but right at that moment he was focused on Peter. The young man seemed really uncomfortable and out of place where he stood, among a few businessmen, but he was still there.  

Norman stood to his left with his date, talking animatedly with the other men. To Peter’s right, there was a tall, slender man, in his early forties, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the boy. Sometimes he would whisper things in his ear, eliciting a small, polite smile from him, but no answer. Some other times he would rest a hand on his waist for no particular reason and Tony would watch with amusement as the boy tried to get away politely. Norman watched the whole interaction discreetly, carefully, but didn’t intervene.

Eventually, Peter excused himself and headed towards the bathroom. Tony watched the other man and, sure enough, he followed him there a few seconds later, under Norman’s intense gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. Tony quickly understood what was probably going on. Again, the older man was disappointed in the boy. Such a smart kid, with so much potential, he could do so much better. Tony turned towards the bar, ordering another scotch. Since he was there, with no date, and nothing else to do, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few drinks.

Several minutes later, he was leaning against the bar, talking to Mr. Zimmer, the CEO of Accutech, and actually scored a meeting for the following week to pitch his nanobots. After his deal with Oscorps, he was able to close two smaller ones and had a few more meetings scheduled. As he imagined, people took notice of Stark Industries after that. Having such a huge, important company such as Oscorps trusting SI meant a lot to potential partners.

As soon as Mr. Zimmer left, Tony saw Peter rushing across the room and out the door. He seemed really upset and agitated, so the older man followed him outside. When he found him again, Peter seemed a little lost. He looked around, as if he didn’t really know which way to go – the gala was held in one of Osborn’s mansions upstate and even leaving the premises was difficult to do without a car, the property was huge. He checked his phone, then, but Tony noticed the screen didn’t light up, it was probably dead. The kid ran his hands through his hair, seemingly desperate, and finally Tony decided to put him out of his misery.

“Hey, kid.” He stepped closer to the boy and he turned quickly, almost as if he was ready to throw a punch or something. “Whoa, there!” Tony held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, examining the boy’s face. He looked distressed, his eyes and face were red and he was a little out of breath. “Hey, are you ok? Do you need a ride home?” His eyes lit up in relief, his face relaxing instantly.

“Would you mind?” He almost pleaded and Tony was a little taken aback by the tone. “It’s just – my phone’s dead and – I just really need to get home.”

“Sure, kid, it’s fine, I was heading home anyway, c’mon.” Tony asked a valet to bring his car around and watched Peter as the younger man seemed to calm down slowly, but he was still acting a little out of sorts as they waited for the car to arrive. “Is everything okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure, just a little tired, I guess.” He lied, a fake smile on his face. He was easy to read, most of the time, when he wasn’t trying to attract older, rich men, Tony supposed.

Once the valet brought the car around, Tony opened the door for Peter, who quickly slipped inside like it was an oasis. Tony tipped the valet and joined the younger man, noticing that he seemed almost relieved to be leaving the party.

“Rough night?” Tony asked conversationally once he started the car, pulling away from the driveway. It was a stupid question, but he couldn’t help it.

“Try rough couple of months,” he scoffed, running a hand though his once tamed hair, elbow resting against the window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He looked at the younger man from the corner of his eye and saw him shake his head weakly.

“Not really,” he mumbled and they fell silent. Tony wanted to say something else, but Peter didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, so he just drove for a few minutes, heading for the city, when the kid spoke up again. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, you can drop me off anywhere, I’ll just take the subway.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you home. Where is home, by the way?” Tony knew Peter lived with four other students close to campus, but he didn’t know where exactly.

“Harlem.” He sighed, sounding annoyed. “Ugh, that’s the last place I want to be right now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Why? Trouble with your roommates?” Tony raised a brow and the boy shook his head a little.

“Not really, they’re just really loud, specially on weekends. They probably have people over right now and I’m not in the mood, it’s all.” He gave him a tiny smile, but he didn’t really mean it.

“Tell you what,” Tony started, choosing his next words carefully. “Why don’t you come to my place?” He saw from the corner of his eye when Peter almost broke his neck turning to look at him in surprise. “Just for a few hours, so you can cool down some. We can have a few drinks, grab a bite to eat, and once you’re feeling better, I’ll drive you home. Or you can crash there, whatever you prefer. What do you say?” He turned to look at the young man and his eyes were wide, mouth agape in shock. Tony almost wanted to laugh.

“Uh – I don’t – I don’t want to be a bother, sir, you’ve alre--”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t be offering if it was a bother. You don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to, but if you do, you’ll make this old man very happy, I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” Tony smiled charmingly at him and Peter blushed, the older man could tell there were a million things going through his head.

“Uhm. Okay. Yeah, sure.” He nodded and Tony’s heart did a little flip in his chest and he didn’t even know why. If he was honest, he had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just wasn’t ready to let the younger man go.

The rest of the drive was long and mostly silent. Peter was usually very lively and talkative in the lab, he always had some fun fact to share or an anecdote about something that happened in class, but that night he was gloomy and quiet, but he still answered to Tony’s small talk. When they arrived at the older man’s penthouse, Peter was a little nervous, looking around as if he was out of place, looking almost regretful. Tony decided that he hated seeing him like that.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” He asked as soon as they walked into the living room. The young man turned to look at him curiously, a small smile on his face as he nodded. “Evening, Jarvis. Could you get the windows, please?” As he said that, Peter frowned, then jumped almost a foot in the air when the A.I. answered.

“Good evening, sir, I hope you had a good time at the party.” As he said that, an entire wall of the living room turned from blurred, dark glass to transparent glass, revealing an amazing view of the city skyline. “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

“What – how – you have an AI here? How does he know who I am?” Peter half whispered, half shouted, apparently undecided if he should be concerned or amazed. Tony laughed and placed a hand on Peter’s lower back, guiding him towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I don’t only have it, I made it. And he’s equipped with an advanced face recognition technology that I designed, in case anyone comes in here with ill intentions. I started working on Jarvis when I was at Hammer Industries, it was supposed to go to the military, but after I resigned, I decided to keep it to myself. Jarvis runs the house and helps me in the lab.” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and observed as the young man leaned against the window, looking amazed and a little lost.

“So cool!” Peter’s eyes were round and excited, all the gloominess from earlier apparently forgotten. “Can I talk to him? Like, will it acknowledge my voice?”

“Of course, Mr. Parker, why wouldn’t I?”  

“Hi, Jarvis!” And just like that, Peter stroke up the silliest conversation with Jarvis, as Tony headed to the kitchen. He decided that since Peter wasn’t really allowed to drink, he’d make them some coffee, and later they could order something to eat. When he went back to the living room, the young man was still leaning against one of the windows as Jarvis tried to convince him that he had no intention of starting a rebellion to wipe out humanity.

“Don’t worry, Jarvis wouldn’t do that,” Tony smiled, placing two mugs on the coffee table and Peter shrugged.

“I wish he would, sometimes I think we failed as a species.” He turned around to face the engineer with a cheeky smile. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Thank you for everything, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You would have figured something out, you’re resourceful. Maybe you would have built a car out of a cardboard box, two paper clips and four potatoes.” He leaned against the window beside Peter and the young man looked up at him with a grin.

“Or maybe I would have found someone to lend me a charger so I could call an Uber?” He bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own and the older man scoffed.

“Yeah, but that would’ve been boring, don’t you think?” He raised a brow with a grave face and the young man laughed.

“You’re right, this is much more fun.” His face was so open, so beautiful, all awkwardness from before completely gone. Tony leaned in to whisper close to his ear.

“It can get better.” He pulled back a little to look at the boy’s face. He looked surprised, eyes wide and lips parted, but he didn’t pull away, he didn’t take a single step back, so Tony took a chance. He placed one hand gently on his cheek, testing his reaction, and Peter’s breath hitched, his gaze dropped to Tony’s lips, but he stood still, breathing rapidly but quietly. That was all the answer he needed.

He buried his hand in those curls he’d been dreaming about for months, as his other arm snaked around his thin waist, pulling him close, no chance of escape. Not that he thought that Peter would try to escape if he could, anyway. Tony felt intoxicated when their lips touched, Peter’s mouth was as soft as it looked, his skin as smooth as he imagined. The younger man melted against him, bodies flush together as Tony’s tongue begged for entrance in his mouth.  

He pushed him against the window, once again testing the young man’s reaction to his advances, but Peter was so far gone, he barely seemed to notice they’d changed positions. Tony kissed him deeply, slowly, as his hands made their way around the boy’s hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones over the silk shirt, and he sighed. Tony licked into his mouth, swallowing his little gasps and whimpers, and he could tell that Peter had never been kissed like that before, if the way his legs gave out were any indication. He held him up, though, his body trapped between the older man’s and the cold window.

He felt Peter’s erection already poking his upper thigh and he smiled into the kiss, feeling his own cock start to swell against Peter’s lower stomach. He moaned quietly, pulling away from the kiss for a few seconds to check if the boy was doing okay, but Peter didn’t even open his eyes, he just rocked his hips slowly, rubbing his erection against Tony’s thigh. Feeling confident enough, the older man lowered his hands to his perfect ass, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he pulled him even closer to him. Just as he imagined, it was firm, yet supple, it filled his hands nicely, and Tony didn’t hesitate to lift him a little by the ass, aligning their cocks and pressing both erections together.

“Mr. Stark,” he whimpered, humping against Tony, trying to balance his weight on the tips of his toes as Tony held him up. The older man took advantage of the way he threw his head back, exposing his throat, to make his way down his skin, peppering his long, pale neck with kisses and bites. Peter moaned as he tried to undo Tony’s suit jacket, which he allowed, putting just a little distance between them. He went back to his mouth with another kiss, faster than before, more urgent, before pulling away just a few inches, panting against the kid’s mouth.

“C’mon, babe, let me take you to bed,” he whispered and Peter nodded quickly.

Tony took his hand and led him to his own room, and as soon as they were inside, he pushed Peter against the king sized bed and quickly started working on his shirt, every inch of silky, white skin it revealed made the older man harder. Peter smelt and looked expensive as fuck, his skin was smooth as a baby’s, not a single hair in sight, and it was soft and unmarked, peppered only with a few light brown freckles along the collarbones. His nipples were tiny and light pink, hard from excitement and begging to be bitten.

Tony wanted to eat him up – and out – he always looked good when they were in the lab, in his cute slacks, dress shoes and lab jacket, but that night he looked delicious, like an expensive meal, and Tony was a starving man. He got rid of the shirt, revealing his thin chest and surprisingly defined abs, and he worshiped the exposed skin, covered it with open mouthed, wet kisses and bites until it turned red from the abuse. He wanted to mark him up, leave bruises on him so that at least for a while, Peter could be his.

He took a perked up nipple in his mouth and sucked it mercilessly, as he pinched the other one between his fingers, and Peter gasped, hands flying to grab Tony’s shoulders. He didn’t waste too much time, though, and quickly started undoing his pants, pulling them down his legs. The act revealed even more soft, smooth skin and plump, soft thighs that the older man couldn’t help biting. Peter whined quietly when Tony splayed his open palms on his legs and squeezed, as he sucked bruises on the boy’s inner thighs. His face was so close to his cock, covered only in tight, black boxer briefs, so Tony rubbed his cheek against it and Peter cried out.  As soon as he lowered his boxers, Peter’s cock sprung free, and Tony was delighted. It was small and flushed pink, rock hard and already dripping pre-cum. The older man didn’t think twice as he put it all in his mouth, eliciting a scream from the young man.

“Oh, my God, Mr. Stark!” He bucked his hips wildly, his legs falling open, and, for the second time that evening, Tony thought that maybe nobody had ever done that to him. “Oh, God! Fuck!” He kept moaning desperately, as Tony sank his fingers in his ass cheeks, bobbing his head up and down, sucking and licking his shaft and paying extra attention to the head. Peter kept both of his hands beside his body, clenching at the sheets, not daring to touch Tony or demand anything. The second the older man’s fingers touched his balls, he lost it. “Mr. Stark, please, I – Oh, God, oh my God –“ He blushed furiously, Tony noticed when he raised his head and let go of his cock with a loud pop.

His whole face and chest were flushed pink, he held his upper body up, resting on his elbows as he panted, looking thoroughly debauched. His once gelled curls were wild and loose, covering his forehead, and Tony just wanted to ruin him even more. He smirked at the younger man, who seemed completely out of it, barely able to understand what was happening. Tony lifted his legs, pressing his bent knees to his chest and Peter got the idea and held his legs in place, exposing himself beautifully to him.

The older man’s mouth watered as he looked at his quivering, pink hole. It looked so fucking tight and so fucking ready for his cock at the same time, he could see Peter was mortified in that position, but he still held himself open, so eager for what was to come. Tony grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them, burying his face in his crack and licking a stripe up from his tailbone to his balls, only to hear the young man screaming desperately.

Tony was feeling really smug, he didn’t remember the last he made anyone scream like that. He was always a generous lover, he liked giving his partners pleasure, but Peter didn’t seem to be used to it if his reactions were anything to go by, so the older man took even more pleasure in making him feel so good.

“Mr. Stark, I’m gonna – I’m not gonna last, please!” Tony pretended not to hear him, as he kept licking over his rim before he started to try to breach him with his tongue, as Peter cried out, bucking his hips. The older man held him in place and kept trying to fuck his tongue into him, until he felt Peter’s fingers in his hair, pulling him up. “I wanna come with you inside me – please,” he whispered once Tony’s lips were over his mouth, his cock perfectly aligned with the boy’s hole.

He grunted and kissed him again, just as wildly and roughly as he did before. The young man quickly started undoing Tony’s shirt, and only then did he realize that he was still dressed as Peter laid on his bed completely naked. He groaned into the kiss, because fuck, that was hot, but he helped the boy take off his shirt and undershirt.

Peter curled one leg around his waist, kissing Tony back enthusiastically and a little less shyly now that the older was a little undressed as well. He ran his soft hands all over Tony’s broad back, then up his shoulders and into his thick hair, all the while moaning and bucking his hips, begging to be touched. Tony took advantage of the position they were in to slide his fingers in between Peter’s cheeks, feeling his tight entrance twitch, anticipating the touch. He didn’t do much more, though, he just kept kneading his ass, letting his fingertips just slightly brush against his quivering hole.

Peter grew impatient then, and instead of pushing his hips up, against Tony’s own cock, he started pushing then down, against his fingers. The older man chuckled, brushing his chin against the pale neck, already noticing it turning pink with beard burn.

“Mr. Stark, c’mon, please, I--” He mumbled incoherently, holding on for dear life to his shoulders, his breath short, swollen, wet lips parted, his lids heavy. A vision of paradise. “I need--”

Tony knew what he needed, but he wouldn’t give it to him just yet. Still, he let his middle finger wander towards his entrance, feeling his hole clenching, trying to pull it inside, ready to take whatever Tony was willing to give. He grabbed his thighs again, spreading them far apart, making Peter yelp in surprise. He kissed his hole gently one last time, then moved away, getting off the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” Tony smirked, undoing his pants, and he noticed Peter’s eyes intent on him. As soon as his cock sprung free, the young man whimpered, whispering “fuck” and biting his lips hard. “Like what you see?” Tony asked, cockily, he knew it was a nice view. He was nicely groomed and his cock was cut, long and thick, and at the moment it was rock hard like never before and dripping with pre-cum. He stepped out of his pants and headed towards the night stand before Peter could answer. He grabbed a bottle lube and made his way back to the bed, positioning himself between his legs once again.

He coated his fingers with plenty of lube and breached his entrance with one fingertip, only to hear a long, deep moan coming from the younger man, who clung to his shoulders for dear life. He fucked his finger in and out of him, slowly at first, but quicker as Peter’s hips started moving along with him, begging for more. Tony leaned down and kissed him, and felt one of Peter’s hands in his hair, as he curled both of his legs around the older man’s waist. Tony kept kissing him as he sunk another finger in his hole, eliciting a surprised moan from him, as he tried to adjust to the stretch.

They kept kissing and rocking against each other eagerly, as Tony fucked him open with his fingers, scissoring and curling them, until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside him. He drew back just enough to hold his cock, guiding it towards Peter’s entrance. Slowly and unrelentingly, Tony sank his cock inside him, blinded with pleasure as each inch sank further inside. Peter whined in pain but didn’t budge or asked him to stop, he took it like a good boy, holding still, legs spread wide, until Tony bottomed out. When he did, he wrapped his arms around his slight frame, lifting him a little from the bed, and Peter took a deep breath, holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetie, you’re so good for me, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Tony whispered nonsensically in his ear, kissing his cheeks and neck gently, waiting for him to adjust. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Peter started rocking his hips slowly, and Tony soon caught on. He grabbed his hips and slammed once inside him, hearing a scream coming from the younger man. He drew back and slowly built up a pace, slamming against him like there was no tomorrow. He moaned loudly, a mixture of pleasure and pain, Tony could tell, but instead of asking him to slow down, he pushed back against him just as hard, biting his neck.

Tony may have lost his mind somewhere along the way, pure instinct took over as he fucked into him with abandon, he heard his screams and moans and they made him hit harder, harder, and he thought he heard the younger man screaming just that, as he sank his nails into his shoulders and down his back, until he grabbed Tony’s ass and pulled him closer, faster, harder –

“Oh – Oh, Mr. Stark – I –“ Peter rolled his eyes back and it took Tony the better part of a minute to realize that he was coming, and he hadn’t even touched his cock. Spurts of his warm, white come covered both of their chests and Tony could feel that some of it caught on his chin. The sight of Peter underneath him – debauched, utterly satisfied, ruined – was enough to bring Tony over the edge, the force of his orgasm was almost blinding, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He let himself fall on top of Peter, barely aware of the fact that he was maybe a little too heavy for that, but the younger man didn’t seem to mind, if the soft, barely there caresses on his back were anything to go by.

They were silent for several minutes, bodies cooling down and falling asleep, but Tony’s mind was wide awake. What had he done? Peter was supposed to be off limits for a number of reasons, so many he couldn’t even focus on a single one. He felt the young man sigh softly under him, his hands drawing circles on his back peacefully.

“This was nice,” he whispered and it triggered something in Tony, because, fuck, it was perfect. It was perfect, but it was a lie, wasn’t it? Peter wasn’t really into him. He was just – he was just a fucking –

“I really hope this was a free trial, ‘cause I don’t think I can afford you, kid.” The minute the words left his mouth, he felt the younger man go rigid beneath him. He quickly pushed at Tony’s shoulders, trying to raise his upper body and the older man easily rolled off of him to the side, resting his head on his clasped hands on the pillow.

“What are you insinuating?” Peter asked with a frown, suddenly appearing very uncomfortable, gathering the sheets around him to cover his exposed skin.

“I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just saying I don’t think I have enough money to pay for this very expensive meal.” He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking, pretending he wasn’t as affected by what happened as he was. Peter turned bright red, his mouth falling open, gaping like a fish.

“What – I –“ he stammered, frozen for a few seconds before he jumped into action and out of bed, taking the sheets with him as he looked for his clothes around the room. “I can’t believe you just said that, you fucking asshole! Fuck you!” He yelled towards the bed and Tony was a little  surprised by his reaction.

“Chill, it was a joke.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that he young man was almost fully dressed by then, at least he had his pants and shirt on, his tie and jacket were draped over his arm as he looked for his shoes. When he turned back to Tony, his whole face was inhumanly red and soaked in tears, it made Tony’s heart clench. “Jesus, kid!”

“I’m not laughing, asshole!” He yelled again, marching towards the door without looking back. “You’re all the fucking same, bunch of assholes, what was I thinking? I’m so fucking stup– ” Tony couldn’t hear the rest of his rant because he slammed the door with so much force that the older man was pretty sure he felt the building shaking a little bit.

Well, fuck.

--*--

Two weeks later, when Tony stepped inside the lab, he had a whole plan figured out. After Peter left that night, he went through all five stages of admitting he had been an asshole – as was common for him, he usually went through those at least a few times a week.

So, first, he denied it.

“The kid is obviously overreacting, right? It was just a joke and, even if it wasn’t, well, I wouldn’t have been that far off from the truth.”

Then, he was angry.

“Fuck that kid, he had no right to react the way he did, who does he think he is, slamming the door like that, yelling at me, calling me names, all because of a stupid little joke? Fuck him.”

Then, he bargained.

“So, okay, maybe I was a little over the line, but I can fix it, right? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Then he felt a little sad, because, fuck, thinking back to their time together, the kid had never been anything but nice to him, he didn’t deserve that and Tony always fucked up with people, what was wrong with him?

Finally, he fully accepted it. He was definitely, irrevocably and undoubtedly an asshole. They had a nice time together, the kid was the best lay he had in fucking years, and sure, maybe he was with Norman for money or whatever, but what they did, what they shared that night – it felt pretty fucking real and Tony blew it.  

So when he walked into the lab two weeks later, he had it all figured out. He would ask Peter to stay a little late, then, when everybody left, he would apologize to him sincerely and since he had a taste for expensive gifts, he even got him a gold bracelet, just as an “I’m sorry I was an asshole” gift, a peace offering.

The thing was, when he walked into the lab, Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Mr. Parker?” He asked the closest lab tech and the young woman shrugged, uninterested.

“He quit a few weeks ago, I heard.” She mumbled, concentrated on the microscope in front of her, and Tony cursed under his breath, feeling even more guilty than before. Had the kid felt so offended that he decided to quit the team? That couldn’t be right, he was Norman’s boy, how would he justify that to him? He wouldn’t tell him about them, would he? Tony figured that if he had told Norman anything, he would have heard about it by then, but everything seemed normal and in order, other than Peter’s absence from the lab.

“He went back to being Mr. Osborn’s intern?” He asked just to clarify, maybe he could go talk to him after he was done in the lab for the day.

“No, he quit Oscorps.” She looked at him like he was asking dumb questions, like everyone should know that piece of information.

Tony did not expect that. His heart raced a little when he heard those words, for some reason. He thought he should be relieved, one less thing to worry about. With Peter gone, he wouldn’t need to worry about apologizing or Norman finding out about them. He didn’t need to worry about things getting weird in the lab or Peter trying to use it against him or something. But he wasn’t relieved. He was – what was he feeling? Whenever he thought about the possibility of not seeing Peter ever again, his heart clenched.

The engineer couldn’t understand what was going on inside him, he just needed to talk to Peter, fucking apologize, get him back on the team, make sure that they would still see each other every month, that they would still talk, and laugh together, and share a workbench so small their hips touched every now and again.  

Which was why Tony found himself waiting at the main entrance of Columbia's Morningside Heights campus on Wednesday evening, probably looking suspicious as hell as he swept the crowd, looking for a familiar face. It was a long shot, but he new Peter had classes every afternoon and he knew at what time he was done most days. He guessed the young man would take a train at the subway station on 116th Street, so there he was, looking and waiting.

After almost two hours and no luck, Tony was ready to give up and leave when he saw him walking out, arms full of text books, a heavy looking backpack hanging from one shoulder. He was wearing reading glasses, baggy, ripped jeans, and a graphic t-shirt underneath an oversized gray hoodie and Tony realized he had never seen him like that, he was always well dressed at work and he only ever saw him in other two occasions: his dinner with Norman and at the gala.

Tony thought he looked even more beautiful like that, stripped off of all the fancy things that made him look like an expensive doll. He looked at ease and comfortable and Tony felt a weird desire to hold him. Fucking hold him. Not rip off his clothes and fuck him – well, that too – but to take him into his arms, pull him close and breathe into his his wild curls.

“Hey, Peter,” Tony called out loud enough for him to hear and as soon as his eyes made contact with the older man’s, his face turned red and his eyes widened before he dropped his gaze to the ground, picking up the pace to walk away from Tony. “Hey, hold on, kid, c’mon, I’m talking to you.” The engineer quickly followed, grabbing him by the arm and making him turn around.

“What do you want, what are you doing here?” He asked impatiently, looking around as if afraid to make a scene, there were a lot of people walking in and out of campus at that time.

“You quit Oscorps,” the older man stated, dumbly, and Peter stared at him as if he wanted to say just that. He waited to see if Tony would say anything more and he really meant to, but nothing else came out of his stupid mouth.

“Yeah, and?” He prompted, holding his books close to his chest defensively, getting ready for a fight, but Tony just shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“And now I don’t have any engineers on my team,” he offered, as kind of a joke, he thought, but again, Peter wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away, but Tony held him back again. “What the hell, don’t touch me!”

“Ok, sorry, I’m sorry.” He let go of his arm and raised both of his hands in a peace offering. “I’m trying to apologize here, I’m not very good at this.”

“Clearly,” Peter snarked, and Tony nodded.

“Right. Ok. I deserve that. Look, let me just –“ He wracked his brain for something to say, he really should have thought it through. The thing was, he thought Peter would be a little more… Compliant. He didn’t expect him to still be that pissed off after almost two weeks. “Let me treat you to dinner, how about that? So we can clear the air?”

“No, thanks,” Peter answered quickly and started to walk away again, heading to the subway station. Since grabbing him and trying to stop him didn’t seem like a good idea, Tony started walking alongside him.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be so stubborn, I’m just trying to apologize here,” he insisted, attracting Peter’s impatient gaze, as he still tried to balance all the books in his arms.

“You’re forgiven, is that what you wanna hear?” He snapped, and Tony was taken aback by the anger and hurt in his eyes. “There you go. You’re absolved! Goodbye now.” Again, he tried to leave the older man behind, but Tony didn’t let him.

“Hey, kid, don’t be so difficult, I just--”

“Tony!” Weirdly enough, after everything they’d done, that was the first time the younger man called him by his first name and even if the situation was less than ideal, it still sent a shiver down his spine. The boy stopped walking to look at him dead in the eye. “You called me a whore, now you’re asking me to dinner! What am I supposed to think here? I’m not for sale, I’m sorry if I misled you, go bother someone else.”

“Peter, I’m sincerely, honest to God, just trying to apologize here. I know I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, nobody does, I’m sorry, I was way out of line. I just wanna take you to dinner because I think you’re a good kid, I know you enjoyed working with me and you looked up to me somehow, so I just wanna make it up to you, ok? I promise, nothing else. I just don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me. I’m a good guy, I’m just kind of an asshole sometimes.” Tony tried to convey all his honesty through his eyes, which made Peter deflate a little bit. The young man stared at him for a few seconds with a frown on his forehead, before he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re very annoying,” he said, matter-of-factly, and the older man nodded.  

“I’m known to be quite annoying, yeah,” he admitted, putting on his best pleading face, puppy eyes and all. “Let me make it up to you,” he insisted, and Peter rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation.

“Fine, dinner. Not tonight, though, I have work.” Tony cheered on the inside – and a little on the outside – but the younger man kept a straight face.

“Whenever you’re free.” Peter thought for a second and it almost seemed like he was regretting it already.

“Tomorrow, then. You can pick me up here. And I’ll choose the restaurant.” He stuck up his nose, defiantly, and Tony just spread his arms in surrender.

“Fair enough.”

So Tony decided to be a perfect gentleman, he put on a nice suit, he bought some flowers and took the gold “I’m sorry I was a jerk” bracelet with him when he went to pick Peter up. He was sure he would pick the most expensive restaurant in New York as payback and maybe he would order the most expensive things on the menu and, yeah, Tony knew he was really stupid if he were to comply, but, apparently, he wasn’t as smart as he once thought. And apparently he wasn’t immune to cute boys who knew how to play their cards right. So, yeah, maybe he fell right into Peter’s web in the end and maybe he wasn’t too upset about it. He could afford to spend a few dollars on him, have a good meal, smart conversations, and then move on. Because that’s what it was, right? Just him needing closure, if nothing else.

Except, when he parked his car, Peter was standing on the sidewalk in plain blue jeans and a cheap gray sweater and he looked thoroughly amused by Tony’s outfit when he got out of the car to get the door for him. He offered him the flowers and the boy was even more amused, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he read the “I’m sorry I was a jerk” card. Tony decided not to give him the bracelet after all, didn’t seem like a good idea by the looks of it.

“Where do you think we’re going?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, stopping in front of Tony before he got in the car.

“I was thinking a three-star Michellin restaurant?” The older man frowned and the boy snorted, apparently very amused.

“Yeah, and how in the hell would I afford to eat there, Mr. Stark?” He cocked his head to the side with feigned curiosity and Tony frowned.

“Afford? What – no, I’m buying! This is an ‘I’m sorry’ dinner. Besides, I invited you, it’s only polite.” He argued, but the boy quickly shook his head.

“You’ve apologized enough.” He gestured to the flowers. “Besides, I’m sorry, but I’m a little skeptical about gratuitous generosity at the moment, so we’re just gonna get some cheap pizza if that’s ok with you.” He shrugged, pointing in the general direction of the pizza place he was probably planning to go.

“What? Peter, come on. At least –“

“I only agreed to come if you let me choose the restaurant, so it’s either this or I’m heading back home.” He threatened to turn away and Tony jumped to stop him.

“No, no, sorry, you’re right. It’s your pick.” He opened the door to the passenger seat before Peter could change his mind and leave.

They got inside the car and Tony followed the young man’s instructions to the pizza joint, it wasn’t far from campus and was mostly empty when they got there. It was really not the sort of place that Tony went to anymore, but he couldn’t deny that was exactly the kind of restaurant he could afford when he was 19 at MIT. He was still a little confused by Peter’s choice of restaurant, not really sure if it was all a game, a plot to get back at him, but he seemed honest when he said he wanted to pay for his half.

“Maybe lose the jacket? And the tie?” He suggested with an amused smile from beside him when they parked the car and Tony chuckled slightly, doing just that and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves as well. “Much better.”

When they got inside the restaurant, Peter seemed to know the waiters, they sat at a table in the far back and ordered their drinks. They didn’t even have wine. A pizza place that didn’t serve wine, what even was that madness.

“So, you come here a lot? Everyone seems to know you around here.” Tony tried to start some amicable conversation and, surprisingly, Peter was receptive.

“I used to work here, actually. Before Oscorps.” He smiled fondly as he looked around, like he had some good memories there.

“Oh, cool.” Again, he was surprised by the boy’s story, Tony always assumed that he had an easy life. “Did I – was it because of me? The reason you quit?” He asked with a wince and Peter raised a brow, amused.

“Don’t be so self-important, it had nothing to do with you,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, so Tony thought maybe he wasn’t that mad anymore. He sure seemed a lot calmer than the last time they met. “You’re a jerk, but I’ve dealt with worse.” Tony snorted, he couldn’t even be mad, Peter was just stating facts. He was a little curious to know what led him to quit his job, if it wasn’t Tony, and suddenly remembered how upset he was when they left the party. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask, though, they were just getting back on good terms.

“So, what are you doing now that you quit Oscorps?” Tony cocked his head to the side and the boy shrugged, playing with his paper napkin.

“Back to waiting tables and making coffee.” He smiled, he didn’t seem upset by the turn of events, which was… unexpected? It was just so odd. Tony had this idea that Peter liked to live that expensive lifestyle he had with Osborn, wasn’t that the whole point of being with him? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Peter chuckled, furrowing his brow. “What?”

“Nothing, I just –” He shook his head and gave up in the middle of the sentence.

“What, you thought I’d find another rich dude or something?” He creased his brow, looking genuinely confused, not mad. “Wait, do you actually think I’m an escort?” He asked as an afterthought, and Tony could deny it, but he didn’t think he could make it believable anyway.

“Not exactly, but – something like that, yeah,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time, and braced himself for the explosion, but Peter just showed him a sad little smile.

“You thought I was with him for his money,” he stated and Tony winced, because when Peter said it out loud, when those words came out of his mouth, they sounded so wrong. Like they could never be true. “It’s okay, I guess he thought that, too, and so did everyone else. My coworkers, the press, even some of my friends,” he scoffed, folding his napkin in half just to have something to do with his hands. “I guess I’m just a stupid kid who watched way too many Disney princess movies growing up. I blame my aunt, honestly.” He tried to joke and Tony shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have judged you, it wasn’t my place. I just thought it was so odd for a guy like you to be with a guy like him.” Such a beautiful, brilliant, young man like you deserved so much better than him, was what Toy didn’t dare to say.

“I loved him,” he said and it shouldn’t have stung, it shouldn’t have made Tony’s stomach twist and turn, and his heart clench, but it did. It fucking did. “Or I thought I did. Turns out I got it all wrong. I thought we were going somewhere, but he wasn’t really serious about me, which became very clear when he decided not to take me to the gala, so.” He blushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the table, still folding the napkin until it was impossible to keep folding.

“Yeah, but you still came. Why?” Tony insisted, because he really wanted to figure him out, he needed to, because Peter wasn’t who he thought he was, he wasn’t that person Tony was so quick to judge and he needed to know who he was, after all. Because – he just needed to.

“I guess I – I just thought... He would regret it or something, you know. Once he saw me.” He gave a self-deprecatory laugh, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if trying to physically erase something from his mind. “Like… A stupid rom-com or something, you know. Like, the happy ending scene. Whatever. It’s stupid.” He ran a hand through his hair, blushing even harder. “Again, I blame my aunt, she was the one who made me watch all these stupid movies.”

Tony wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that everybody else was fucked up and couldn’t see what an amazing person he was, but the waiter chose that moment to interrupt them with their food, which was good, because Peter perked up and actually looked excited, rubbing his hands together and looking at Tony expectantly.

“Try it, tell me if it’s not the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life.” Tony smiled at his excitement and grabbed a piece of the cheap pizza. As expected, it tasted like garbage, but he wouldn’t tell Peter that, obviously.

“Sorry, kid, it’s not. But I’m forty-five and I’ve been to Italy, so don’t look so bummed.” Peter deflated slightly, grabbing a piece of his own and taking a huge bite out of it, like it was the best meal ever.  

“Fine then, the best pizza in New York?” He compromised and Tony was a hundred percent sure it was most definitely not the best pizza in New York, but –

“I’ll give you that.” He conceded and Peter beamed.

“I’ll take it.”

They fell into an easy conversation about engineering and about Peter’s expectations for the future, which ended up turning into a conversation about what Tony did after college. The older man told him about all the steps he took to get where he was, working for other companies, having his ideas stolen, not getting credit for his work, quitting multiple jobs, almost going bankrupt trying to get Stark Industries off the ground and then finally being in a comfortable place in his professional life at 45 – better late than never.

“I think it’s amazing how you managed to turn your life around, you know. It’s really inspiring.” Peter seemed truly moved by Tony’s story, and the older man knew it was quite impressive, but he just shrugged it off.

“Yeah, boo-hoo, but now that you know my sob story, you have to tell me yours.” He took another bite of the terrible pizza and decided that sometime after the third slice, it became almost edible. Key-word: almost.

“Well, there��s not much to say and it’s definitely not as interesting or as successful as yours, but let’s see. My parents died when I was really young, I think I was around four – I’m ashamed to say I don’t really remember them. I still have their pictures, but I just – you know.” Peter shrugged and, yeah, Tony knew. After his mom died, he couldn’t look at pictures of her for years; at the same time that he wanted to remember her, he kind of wanted to forget. “I was raised by my aunt May and uncle Ben, but he was killed in a mugging when I was ten. Fuck, my life story is such a downer, are you sure you wanna hear it?” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, and Tony smiled softly.

“As long as you wanna tell it, kid.” Peter took a deep breath, as if considering if he actually wanted to tell that story, but finally seemed to decide to go on.

“So, my aunt May was a nurse, she struggled to make ends meet, but she was just – amazing, you know? She was like a mother to me, she never left me wanting for anything, specially when it came to my education, which was how I was able to get into college so early. Anyway, she passed away almost two years ago from a stomach cancer. So… It’s just me now. I’m the last Parker standing.” He smiled sadly, dropping his gaze to stare at the slice of uneaten pizza in his plate.

“Fuck, that’s rough, kid. But hey, if it’s any consolation, I’m also the last Stark standing. Maybe we should start a club or something,” he joked to try to lighten up the mood and the young man giggled, looking back at him with a smile.

“Like, the Parker-Stark Lonely Orphans Club?” He asked cheekily and Tony laughed. “Anyway, a year ago I got into Oscorps’s internship program, which was a dream come true, but then I screwed it up by sleeping with the boss, because I’m an idiot. The end.” He snorted and, again, Tony was a little surprised to learn that Peter got the internship before he met Norman, but at that point, it wasn’t much of a shock, he should have seen it coming.

“So, can I ask what happened? Between you and Norman? What made you quit?” Tony asked carefully. As the night went on, he felt like he and Peter were getting more comfortable with each other, more comfortable than they could ever be all those months before, when Tony made such an effort to despise him.

“Ugh, it’s… Well, it’s embarrassing.” It was barely a whisper. Peter’s cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet Tony gaze.

“It’s okay, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He reassured him, feeling confident enough to place a hand on top of his on the table. Peter stared at them for a few seconds, before looking up at him.

“It’s… Something he did at the party. He kept pushing me to this guy, you know. Some business partner or whatever. And I didn’t quite understand what he was trying to accomplish, but then I went to the bathroom and this guy followed me there and he – he tried – to kiss me. And to touch me.” He blushed, gaze fixed on the table between them once again. Tony tightened his grip on his hand. “When I pushed him away he said something about Norman not knowing how to teach his whores good manners. When I tried to talk to Norman – he said I owed him.” He frowned, lifting his eyes to look at him. “For all the expensive gifts, and nice restaurants, and everything he did for me. He said it was the least I could do.” He scoffed, but his cheeks were pink, like maybe some part of him believed that – believed that while he thought he was dating someone he loved, he was actually whoring himself out to him.

“That’s why you were so upset at the party,” he whispered, realizing what a massive jerk he’d been after that. The kid must have been feeling like shit that day. Used and expendable and lost. And then Tony treated him like a fucking cheap hooker.  “Peter… I’m so sorry for that night, I didn’t –“

“It’s okay, I’m fine now. Don’t get me wrong, it was a total dick move, but I already knew you were kind of a dick, so no alarms, no surprises.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, but nothing he could say could ever absolve Tony of what he’d done, of the harm he’d caused him that night. Fuck, if he was Peter, he would never have talked to him again, let alone agreed to dinner. His behavior the previous night suddenly made perfect sense. “I quit the next day, put his stupid gifts in a box and sent it to the tower, he can choke on them for all that I care.” He shrugged, trying to appear non-nonchalant, but Tony knew the whole thing must still fucking hurt, it had only been two weeks.

“I sincerely hope he does,” Tony offered and Peter laughed out loud, throwing his head back in delight.

When they walked to the car at the end of the night, Tony could feel that something had changed between them. He felt like all that time he knew Peter he had been missing a huge chunk of information, which made all the difference in the world. He could see Peter now, the real him. The ride to his place was taken in comfortable silence and when Tony parked his car, neither of them moved. The older man turned towards the younger one and licked his lips. He knew the answer to the question he was gonna ask, he knew he deserved it, but still –  

“Can I get you number?” It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to apologize, show the kid a good time as a way of making it up to him for the terrible things he said and move on. Go back to work, go back to his life, but now – now he was stuck. Looking at Peter and seeing a whole new person. Someone he wanted to get to know more, but knew he didn’t deserve.

“Oh, I don’t know, do you think you can afford it?” Peter teased, and Tony actually blushed, embarrassed to remember how much of a dick he’d been.

“Ugh, I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his face, only to hear Peter’s delighted chuckle.

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry. But I don’t think It’s a good idea, Tony.” He bit his lower lip and Tony nodded to himself, because, yeah, he knew it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Because Peter deserved so much better than him. “But this was nice. Thank you for caring enough to apologize.”

“It was the least I could do.” He gave him a small smile and was taken by surprised when the young man unceremoniously leaned in and kissed him. Tony didn’t waste any time burying his hand in his hair, pulling him impossibly close as their lips brushed softly and tongues met in a sweet embrace. The young man pulled away after just a few seconds, though, and Tony didn’t even have the courage to open his eyes and acknowledge it was over. “Are you sure this isn’t a good idea? Because it sure tastes like a great fucking idea. I would know, I have great ideas all the time, ask anyone.” Tony whispered and Peter laughed, his face was still so close the older man could feel his breath on his lips.

“Goodbye, Tony. Good luck with your company,” he smiled, as he opened to door to get out of the car.

“I’ll miss you on my team.” Which was to say, I’ll miss you. Plain and simple.

“I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.” I won’t, I don’t want to. I want you. “Gotta go now, I have work in the morning. Bye!” He got out and closed the door behind him, waving one last time before he walked away.

“Goodbye, Peter,” he whispered to the empty car, hands clutching the steering-wheel as he watched the boy disappear into the building.

--*--

Working at Oscorps was not the same without Peter. First, because he was actually a very good intern who helped a lot with every single task Tony assigned him. Second, because even though he hadn’t noticed it before, he always looked forward to talking to him. To learning those tiny little pieces of information the boy let escape through his lips once in a while, only to blush profusely and apologize seconds later.

Still, he kept going. Norman never bothered him, which was nice, and as the remaining months passed, Tony’s name became more and more recognizable, he closed so many deals over the course of that year, he was able to more than double his team and the office and lab they used to work got way too small for them. He started looking for some other place to go and the more he thought about it, more sense it made to move SI headquarters to California. Most of his partners were there and he would also be closer to his suppliers and many other business opportunities.

So after talking to Pepper, Nat, Rhodey, Happy and Bruce – “the original six”, as they liked to call themselves, including Tony –, he decided to move right after his contract with Oscorps was done in December. Those last few months were crazy and got crazier when B.A.R.F. was finally announced to the public. Both the product and the technology behind it sent Stark Industries to a whole other level, their stocks skyrocketed and Tony literately became the richest man in New York overnight, even richer than Norman – and that was saying something.

Which was why, when December rolled around and Osborn invited him to dinner to discuss the possibility of renewing the contract and he showed up with some supermodel hanging off his arm, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he was in that same situation. He remembered how nervous he was before the dinner, how excited he felt when they closed the deal and how gorgeous Peter looked that night. But he remembered, specially, what Osborn did to the younger man months after that. How he’d treated him, what he’d said to him.

“So, what do you say, Stark? Wanna be partners for five more years?” Osborn’s smile was kind of creepy, he hadn’t noticed it before. He offered him a hand and Tony stared at it for what felt like hours, although it was probably only a few seconds. It was great fucking deal, way better than the one he had before, but –

“You know what, Norman?” He smiled to himself and took a deep breath, wishing he was wearing his smart glasses so he could record his reaction. “Fuck you.” He beamed, standing up from his chair, admiring the expression of shock and horror on the older man’s face. He buttoned his suit jacket and, still smiling like a madman, left the restaurant like he owned the place – which he could, if he wanted.

On his last night in New York, he decided to look for Peter. He didn’t want to pressure him or anything, but they hadn’t seen each other in almost six months, so maybe something might have changed for him. Tony still couldn’t get him out of his head, each day that passed he wished he’d done things differently, so fucking differently.

He wished he’d been nicer, from day one. He wished he had lived up to his expectations, his hero worship. He wished he could have been a decent human being, a shoulder to cry on that night he was so vulnerable and broken. He wished he could have wooed him and gotten him to fall in love with him, the way he’d fallen for him.

He wanted a second chance, he really did, but when he knocked on the door of the apartment the boy used to live, the place where Tony had said goodbye to him all those months ago, some stoned college kid answered the door. When he asked about Peter, the boy just shrugged.

“He moved away a while ago, dude. Got a job somewhere or something.”

So that was it. Tony didn’t have his number and Peter wasn’t on social media – at least Jarvis couldn’t find him, and he sure as hell looked. So he gathered the last of his stuff and left New York for good, mind wandering to those few moments he’d spent with Peter, thinking how different things could have been if he hadn’t been so quick to judge.

No point crying over spilled milk.

Stark Industries flourished in L.A. All of Tony’s crazy, genius ideas were funded, so he finally finished his arc reactor project – something he’d started as a teen, but didn’t have the resources to continue – and started a line of electronics – computers, cellphones, tablets, all the good stuff. After the first couple of months, he bought a mansion in Malibu, just because he could, and finally felt like his life was heading in the right direction.

Still, it felt like there was a Peter-shaped whole in it, which was insane, they’d only known each other for a little over five months, it made no sense how much he missed him, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and still there were nights he could fucking smell Peter’s scent on his sheets – sheets he’d never even laid on. Could feel his soft skin under his fingertips as he hugged his pillow close to his chest, the way he wished he’d held him that night when he stormed off, humiliated and hurt. Those nights he couldn’t sleep, could only stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out time travel, just so he could go back and fix things.

Once he was settled in California, he was invited to give lectures in universities all over the country. MIT was first, then NYU, Stanford, Yale, UCLA and, finally, Caltech in late November. His lectures were usually about the arc reactor, clean energy was in fashion, everybody was talking about it, and the fact that he figured out cold nuclear fusion was still a very hot topic.  

It was still early in the evening when he finished his lecture at Caltech, a few students stayed behind to ask him questions or just talk for a bit, Tony had become sort of a celebrity for nerds, and he didn’t mind staying a little late talking to those starry-eyed kids, so it was already dark out when he was done. When he thought he was alone, he started gathering his things, thinking of somewhere he could eat in Pasadena before he headed back to Malibu, when he heard it. That sweet, unmistakable voice.

“That was a hell of a lecture.” Tony turned around slowly, almost afraid to be wrong, but there was no way he’d be. Peter was there, staring back at him, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight blush on his cheeks. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

“You ran away from me, kid.” He breathed out, letting his hands fall to his sides, even though they itched to touch, his legs were shaking with desire to run to the younger man, but he stood still, afraid that if he moved, the spell would be broken and he would realize that Peter was just an illusion.

“That’s a big ego you got there if you think I’d make such a dramatic life change just for you, old man.” He stepped into the room slowly, until he was standing right in front of Tony, close enough to touch, but neither of them did. “I’m getting my Masters here. I heard you were coming for a lecture.”

“So you came by to say hi?” Tony cocked his head to the side and Peter chuckled, nodding.

“Yes. Hi.” He perched himself on the desk Tony was using during his lecture and it was the older man’s turn to move to stand in front of him.

���Hi.” He smiled, stepping closer, paying attention to see if the young man was in any way uncomfortable by his actions, but he didn’t even flinch.

“So, I heard you ditched Norman.” He crossed his arms over his chest again, a small smile on his lips.

“I believe my exact words were ‘fuck you’, actually.” That made Peter laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his long throat. “I missed you kid.”

“Couldn’t find an intern to make you coffee and fawn over you while you were at Oscorps?” He jabbed a finger in his chest and Tony caught it in his hand.

“Couldn’t find you. Anywhere. And I looked.” He confessed, not letting go of his hand, not looking away from his eyes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and all the things I didn’t say.”

“Such as?” Peter asked coyly, biting his lower lip as he looked at Tony from under his eyelashes.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t go. Give me a chance. I’ll make this work. I’m in love with you. Things like that, you know.” He didn’t care that he was putting his heart on the line, he couldn’t choke on those words anymore, and if that was the last chance he ever got to say them, at least he could sleep peacefully at night. Peter blushed deeply, lips parted in shock, but then his face stretched in a slow, lazy smile, eyes focused on Tony’s.

“Can I buy you coffee?” He asked quietly, blinking slowly, and the older man shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“Depends. Can I buy you dinner? And don’t you dare ask if I can afford it.” He closed the distance between them as Peter laughed out loud, head thrown back in delight.

“I was just gonna say yes,” he promised, as he placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, allowing him to come stand in between his legs. “Which is something I regretted not saying.” He confessed. “So, coffee first?”

“Yeah, coffee first.” Tony leaned down to kiss his lips, and they tasted so familiar, so right, and he knew it was crazy, because they shouldn’t, they were together for such a short time and Tony wasn’t a fucking teenager, he was a grown man, and he didn’t know how in the fuck he fell in love so hard and so fast, but he did. “It’s so good to see you.” He stole yet another kiss from him and felt the younger man’s lips stretching in a smile under his. Suddenly, he was reminded of a conversation they’d had over a year earlier. “So, do you think this is the happy ending scene in our movie or what?” He asked a beaming Peter, who pretended to examine his face carefully, before answering with a grin.

“I guess we’ll see.”

[the-pontiac-bandit]

Tobe + fist (if your still doing that tortall thing) the kalasin thing was AMAZING!!!

i’m SO glad you liked the kalasin story!! here’s one about tobe to thank you for the compliment!

Tobe whistled as he meandered down the long aisle in the center of the pages’ stables, horses perking their ears up or neighing quietly in greeting as he passed. He’d lived at the palace for nearly a month and had found--to the surprise of no one except himself--that it quite suited him. He’d known that Peachblossom, Hoshi, Magewhisper, and the rest were well-bred and well-trained, but even after Lady Kel had described the palace in detail, he still hadn’t been prepared for the sheer number of perfect horses, living stall after stall for what felt like miles of stables. Their coats shone, muscles rippling beneath as they responded to the lightest touch of his knee against their sides. It was like magic.

Stefan and Daine, meanwhile, were teaching him to control his actual magic, spending hours meditating with him and instructing him on the best ways to listen. He marveled for a moment as he walked at how much clearer the voices around him sounded, even compared to only a few weeks before, when he spent most of the ride south translating Peachblossom’s complaints about the mud for Lady Kel’s benefit. He’d spent time admiring and trading wry jokes with Loey’s shaggy ponies in the Riders’ stables and spent most afternoons practicing with his bow on their standing targets while they were busy on horseback, but that was a decision for next year. For now, he was more than content to enjoy the marvel of newly discovered magic and the heady sensation of his newly earned freedom.

He was distracted as he wandered through the stables, making his way towards the hay lofts at the far end, where he’d left some tack that needed mending. He was reveling in the sounds—although really, Daine had explained last week, they weren’t sounds as he understood them—of the horses’ idle gossip. Equine gossip was always so much more interesting than two-legger gossip, Hoshi had insisted time and again when he came to her and Peachblossom with a tidbit about one of his two-legger friends, and Tobe found that he had to agree.

He didn’t notice at first when the tones changed, but suddenly, he was aware that the genial chatter he’d been so enjoying had turned tense and quiet. Some of the more skittish warhorses had backed up to the corners of their stalls, pawing at the floor with hooves the size of the plates in the mess hall while the whites of their eyes shone in the dim light. Similarly, some of the more skittish pages had fled their horses’ stalls, eager to avoid broken toes or bruised ribs.

He knew what his job was now. He was to go find Stefan as fast as his legs could carry him and warn him that a fight was brewing. Then, Stefan would wander through the stables in the casual, quietly purposeful manner he had perfected, silently reminding the pages that they’d best groom their horses properly and pick fights on their own time. He’d witnessed it twice since he’d started as a groom, and he was eager to emulate the walk himself one day.

He’d already turned to go when a sample of the words drifted towards him over the quiet scuffles of pages fleeing the scene, eager to avoid the punishment work that they’d surely earn if they were caught brawling in the stables.

“A stupid trollop…no better than you ought to be…”

Tobe’s blood boiled at the sound of the words, ones he’d heard more times than he could count, from the mouths of new refugees or fellow soldiers at Mastiff, always out of his Lady’s earshot. Before he’d even made a conscious decision to do so, he was spinning on one heel and stalking back down the aisle. As he strode towards the corner stall, where the horses seemed most nervous, he drew himself up to the fullest of his fourteen-year-old height, thanking the gods for his recent growth spurt. He’d put on more muscle, too, as his voice deepened. He spared a moment to warn the horse—a particular favorite of his nicknamed Bonney by her rider—not to intervene, and then shifted his hearing to his ears to better hear the two-leggers, picking up more of the argument as he drew nearer.

“You shouldn’t do this, Halleburn,” Bonney’s rider’s voice was cold, her tone firm. Tobe was sure she must be angry. After all, his own mind was seething with rage. Instead, though, she sounded ice-cold.

“You shouldn’t be doing any of this, my lady,” Brennard of Halleburn replied. Tobe was still new to the manners of the nobility, but even he could tell that lady here was an insult, not an honorific.

“You’re just embarrassed that I beat you. If you spent as much time practicing as you do whining when you lose, you might have more luck next time.” Tobe was tempted to whistle quietly at her bold retort, but he was distracted by the sound of a scuffle, and by Bonney’s insistent Hurry in his head.

He rounded the gate into the open stall, his fist already drawn back like Lady Kel had taught him years ago in the town square of New Hope. Before he’d had time to consider attempting to resolve the situation peacefully, he was feeling the surprisingly satisfying crack of breaking bone beneath his fingers.

Both pages’ jaws dropped, blood dripping into Halleburn’s open mouth as he sputtered indignantly. He spared not a word for Tobe, instead spitting blood in his general direction as he sprinted out of the stall and down the aisle. Tobe was sure he was bound for Lord Padraig’s rooms, but he could hardly bring himself to care. His blood was pounding in his ears, his heart racing in his chest, as he seethed over the page’s words.

He took one deep breath, then another, fighting to control his emotions and his shaking hands. It was as the anger cleared that he recalled he was not alone in Bonney’s stall. The female page was staring at him, mouth still open in shock. Belatedly, he remembered his manners, bowing deeply in the manner Stefan had drilled him on as he stuttered.

“I apologize—I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to disrespect—Page…” and then he trailed off. While he was intimately familiar with the details of the page’s riding skills—well beyond her fourteen years, according to Bonney—Bonney had never thought to mention her rider’s name—or how pretty she was.

“Marinie,” she replied. She finally closed her still-open mouth, but her eyes were still flashing with anger. “Marinie of Shaila.”

“Page Marinie,” Tobe filled in, finding words as he calmed. “I do apologize for my outburst. It was not my place. I hope you can forgive my rudeness.”

She brushed past his formal apology with an impatient shake of her dark braid. He noticed her hair—longer than both Lady Kel’s and the Lioness’ but braided tight against her head. After a day’s worth of hard work, shorter pieces in the front had fallen out, some framing her face while others curled out from her head. One lock fell in her eyes with the shake of her head, but she brushed it away absentmindedly as she replied, “He’s going for the Training Master, you know.”

Tobe shrugged. “Stefan’ll be disappointed, but Daine’ll think it’s funny.” He’d discovered quickly that Daine always thought such misbehavior was worth a laugh. Numair said it was because she lacked discipline, but there was laughter in his eyes as she elbowed him in response.

Marinie smiled quickly at that, her demeanor shifting from frustrated to friendly in a breath. “She probably will. In one of our lessons on horse care, she told Carlin of Irenroha his horse would bite his nose if he kept sitting like a lazy sack of flour at the trot. When Carlin tried to complain to Lord Padraig, m’lord just told him Daine was right.”

“That sounds like her,” Tobe replied. He wasn’t sure if he should go before Lord Padraig returned to chastise him or stay to clean the blood off the floor of Bonney’s stall. Now that the adrenaline was leaving his body, he could feel his fist hurting where it had made contact with Brennard of Halleburn’s face. He shook it out as he turned to leave the stall for the tack room, where sponges and brushes for scrubbing could be found.  

“Why’d you do it?” Marinie asked. She was surprisingly direct, for a noble, and he found the corners of his mouth twitching at her lack of inhibition.  

He stopped, one foot out the gate of the stall, to answer. “I worked four years for the Lady Knight Keladry, and—”

He’d meant to continue to explain, about all of the muttered insults and unfair accusations and his disappointment that such things were said even in King Jonathan’s palace, but Marinie had already cut him off.

“You know Lady Knight Keladry?” Her face lit up at the information, a smile breaking across her freckled cheeks. “What’s she like? Is she as good with her glaive as they say? What about the lance? I didn’t get to see her joust on Progress—my mother said I was too young, even though I wasn’t, and—”

She cut herself off, her cheeks reddening slightly as she scraped a well-worn boot against the stable floor. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say.”

Tobe grinned properly at that. “She’s even better. You should see her joust against Lord Raoul—that’s a real match. She hasn’t beat him yet, but she sits in the saddle all firm, and her horse is all muscle and speed. She rides him like something out of legend, and he can bite something fierce. He’s too big for pretty much everyone, but they manage well, and he’s got a beautiful strawberry coat—”

“You’re talking about her horse,” she interrupted him again.

“Right,” he caught himself. He rubbed his hand again. It was properly throbbing by then, his first two knuckles already beginning to swell. Lady Kel hadn’t mentioned how much punching someone hurt—he’d have to tell her when he next wrote.

Page Marinie eyed his fist, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “You should come to my rooms. I have bruise balm that’ll help loads with that. You won’t be able to use that hand tomorrow otherwise.”

“I shouldn’t,” he replied, a bit uncertain. “I really should be cleaning this mess. That’s what’ll get me with Stefan later, if Bonney here tells him she’s been smelling blood all evening.”

She shrugged. “Meet me back here at the second bell after supper, and I’ll help. I finished my punishment work in the armory two days ago, so I have the time.” His heart skipped a beat at the invitation, and he could feel his cheeks redden just a bit.

He started to protest, but she was already interrupting him again. “If you hadn’t done it, I probably would’ve. He deserved it. And if you really want to thank me, you can tell me stories about Lady Kel—not her horse—on the way.”

[lupins-sweater]

Silly Goose

(Remus Lupin x Reader)

Requested by the lovely @poppin-potter

Summary: Reader takes care of drunk Remus

Warnings: Drinking/ Alcohol, food

Sorry about the really infrequent posting; school is starting, and it’s been awful trying to juggle this and getting ready for school. Once school resumes on the 19th, posting will be even more infrequent. You can still request things, but just know it’ll take forever to get to. It’s been very stressful considering I have to go back in person, and my school isn’t doing a lot to prevent the spread. I will be trying to catch up on other’s fics in the meantime though.

The Gryffindor common room was packed with students from every house; it was the last day of OWLS. The most popular songs blasted through the stereos causing people to sing and dance in time with the music. Of course alcohol was involved. How could it not be? After weeks of slaving over review materials, everyone was ready to let loose and relax. Even Remus Lupin, a friend of a friend. This friend, being Lily Evans, was your roommate since fourth year.

You knew he was one of the popular boys in school along with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew. It made sense they were well known though. Except for Pettigrew, they were all smart, handsome, funny boys who knew their way around the rules. From what Lily has told you and the short conversations you’ve had with them, you kind of figured out their personalities. Potter was cocky and reckless; he was usually found either with the boys planning something or chasing your red haired friend around. Black was loud and a complete tease; he was always flirting and shooting winks your way. Pettigrew was...quiet and a little creepy; he also was a mouth breather, so he got in your nerves. And Lupin was also quiet, intelligent, and sarcastic; you sat next to him for a couple classes, and you tried your best not to laugh at his little remarks about the content. He noticed your struggle to keep it together when he whispered his comments into your ear when the professor wasn’t looking. To keep it together as in not to burst out laughing, but you did melt a little when you could smell his cologne and chocolate on his breath.

You also found out he was a werewolf after seeing him in the hospital wing every month during your shifts. Volunteering to help heal students back to health is what brought you closer to Remus. Although his friends kept him plenty of company, you wanted wanted to make sure his couple days at the wing weren’t lonely. He admitted he was a werewolf when you asked, not so smoothly, where did he get all the scars and how he got hurt every month. You felt awful after asking, but he was okay with it. He knew you were friends with Lily, and from what he could tell, you were trustworthy.

You were seated on a velvet love seat next to Lily and your best friend, Y/F’s/N. They were talking about dating which didn’t interest you, so you stared into space daydreaming about about a trip to Italy. Lily rudely interrupted your visions of running through an art museum by poking your arm. You looked at her slightly annoyed and hummed in response.

“What about you? Do you have your eyes on someone?” she asked. She already knew the truth, but she wanted to hear you admit you had feelings for the tall werewolf. Your quick glances and nervous behavior didn’t go unnoticed.

“No. Not that I can think of,” you lied. You returned you gaze back to the wall, hoping you could go back to daydreaming, so you didn’t have to continue the conversation.

“Really? Not even Remus?” Lily teased. “Could have been fooled.”

Loud laughing distracted you from coming up with a smart ass reply. You and your friends swiveled around to see the Marauders laughing about something. Whatever it was, it seemed hilarious. You didn’t even realise you were smiling when you observed Remus doubled over laughing; his smile wide and eyes teary.

“Don’t you think Remus is so cute, Y/N?” Y/F’s/N pokes you.

Your face felt hot as you tore your gaze away from the sandy haired boy.

“Ooo you do! Why don’t you ask him out? He’s right over there,” Lily pushed you.

“Nooo. I could never do that!” you objected.

“Why not?”

“He doesn’t like me in that way! I’ll just embarrass myself.”

“Whatever you say,” Lily sang raising her eyebrows in response.

----

As the clock’s hands inched closer to two a.m., the students began to filter out the common room. The only people left were the Marauders, you, and Lily. The boys were clearly drunk as they slurred their way through plans of future pranks. You got up from your spot and began to pick up the cups strewn around the floor and coffee table. 

“Do you need help?” Lily asked with a yawn.

“Nah. I’m fine. Maybe you could help the boys up the stairs,” you laughed as you watched them stumble to the boys dorm, “looks like they need it.”

“Ha ha yeah. I’ll help James and Sirius if you help Remus.”

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal!” You could feel the heat on your face as you looked past Lily to see Remus waving at you and stumbling backward. 

“Maybe. Alright. What about this? I’ll help Sirius and James and pick up the rest of the rubbish if you take care of Remus.”

“Fine. If that means you’ll stop telling me to ask him out.”

She rolled her eyes “I only want you to get yourself a man; you complain about not having a boyfriend.”

That was one hundred percent true. You didn’t want to sound desperate, but you were kinda lonely and felt like you were mature enough to try dating. You also wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you were jealous of your friends who went on dates during Hogsmeade trips, leaving you alone. 

You walked over to the sweater clad boy on the small desk and waved. 

“Hello,” he greeted in a quiet voice and waved back. 

“All right, Rem. Let’s get you to bed.” You reached your hand out to show you wanted him to follow you. He hopped off the desk and pulls you in for warm hug. Your thoughts could be best described as a giant exclamation point; the hug was totally unexpected as Remus wasn’t a fan of pda, and since you had a crush on him, the butterflies in your stomach threatened to spill. 

“I like it when you call me that. It makes me very happy,” he admitted with a pleased smile. 

“What? Rem?” you giggled as you tried to wriggle yourself out of his grip.

“Mhmm” he let you grab his arm and walk up the stairs one step at a time. 

You felt your arm tug as you tried taking another step and looked down. Remus had apparently tripped. 

“Oh dear. Come on,” you helped pull him back on his feet. Once he’s standing again, he brings his arm around your shoulders for support. The smell of alcohol hung off his breath as you wondered how much he had. Either he was really happy the year ended or his week had been rough. 

You pulled your wand out of your sweater pocket and muttered a spell to get into the boys’ dorm. 

“You’re so smart,” he praised you. 

“Thanks...so are you.” Wow. This is awkward. 

“No. You’re crazy smart,” he reiterated with a lopsided smile,“ and cute.”

“My goodness. We’re confident today. You’re pretty good looking yourself,” you sent a wink his way as the blush returned from earlier.

The two of you finally made it to his dorm room; the other three occupants were laying in bed. You guided him to the four poster bed to the farthest side on the right wall and took off his shoes when he sat down.

“Okay. I’m going to go get you something to eat soon, but I need you to get dressed in pajamas. Are they in your trunk?”

“Ooo food! Yes. The trunk,” he rubbed his eyes and watched contently as you rummaged through his trunk. You grabbed a water bottle and a pair of blue matching pajamas.

“Thank you, Y/N!” He unscrewed the cap and started chugging its contents causing you to cover your mouth in an attempt to not laugh. The rest of the boys were trying to sleep.

“Try not to drink the whole thing!”

He stopped to shoot you an incredulous look. “But I’m thirsty.”

You laughed silently and moved toward the door.

“Wait. Don’t leave me! Stayyyy,” he whined, “I promise I won’t drink all the water.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting you a snack.”

“Oh! Silly goose.”

You laughed at the odd phrase. “What? Me?”

“No me. I forgot you were getting food.”

“Get dressed, Rem,” you pointed to the clothes on his lap. He smiled in return.

——

You got back from the kitchens with some crackers without getting caught surprisingly and noticed Remus had fallen asleep. Smiling to yourself, you walked into the bathroom and grabbed the bin to set next to his bed.

You tiptoed your way to his bed, careful not to wake the others. He did in fact get dressed in the pajamas you gave him but the shirt was buttoned incorrectly. You resisted the urge to fix it and set down the crackers and bin.

Before leaving you got out a piece of parchment and a quill from his school bag propped up next to the nightstand.

You were feeling a little brave, so you wrote:

Hello, Rem! (Or silly goose as you called yourself)

How did you sleep? Hope you’re feeling good. Your water is on the stand, and I left some crackers for you. The bin is on the floor if you need it.

You looked like you had a great time last night. Who knew you would be so clingy when drunk? Don’t worry; you didn’t do anything stupid.

It was nice to talk to you outside of the hospital wing and class. Maybe we can study in the library next week? I’d love to get to know you better.

-Y/N

You then left to go to bed in your own dorm, glad Lily pushed you to take care of Remus.

——

General HP tag list

@summer-writes @masterofthedarkness @iliveiloveiwrite @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @nebulablakemurphy @obsessedwithrandomthings @haphazardhufflepuff @firewhisky-kisses

[daydreamsofh]

Dreaming of You

A/N: Hi, hello friends!! Here is Dreaming of You, this is a slight continuation/part two to my piece from the Pick Your Poison Fic challenge last month! You don’t have to have read Dreamy to understand what’s going on in this piece, but if you wanna, you are more than welcome to do so, here. :)  I hope you enjoy the continued yearning and please feel free to let me know what you think! xx 

Also a special thanks to my girl @harryinsweatersandbandanas for listening to me ramble about this for weeks now, love you <3 

**

The past month of your life has felt like nothing short of a dream. A dream filled with you confessing your undying love to your best friend, and him very, very surprisingly declaring it back to you. You literally could not make it up if you tried. 

The two of you had only spent a small amount of time together since your life altering, relationship altering monologue. Now it really was like an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. What the hell was going to happen next?! 

Harry had spent the night at your place that night, the two of you spending the entire afternoon into the evening reading through his letters to you and giggling and sharing kisses and making him explain each and every letter and what he was feeling when he wrote it. You traced his handwriting on each letter, smiling like a mad woman when you realized he had already told you he loved you over and over again, in different cities and countries all over the world. How many times had you both said I Love You at the same time, out loud, but not to each other? Wrapped up and tucked against his side, Harry pressed kisses into your hair and softly looked down at you, smiring and chest puffing over the fact that your cheeks had been burning red since he first slid the pile of notes across the island to you. 

Nothing had happened that night further than gentle kisses and cuddling. Mainly because you were still in utter disbelief that he felt the same way, and that he was here curled up in your living room giving you kiss after kiss and also because you weren’t completely convinced he was real and holding you. What kind of over the top, non stop yearning daydream was this?  

It was kind of unbelievable the way things had turned out. Okay not kind of, more like incredibly unbelievable that things had turned out so, so beautifully. You woke up asleep on Harry’s chest on your couch the next morning and you had to quietly slip from on top of him because you were afraid you were going to start crying from the vision of this man in front of you. Happy tears this time though. 

But that’s all that had really happened, that one night together and he was off the next morning to finalize tour details. He had left you with a stream of kisses on your doorstep, and a promise to see you soon. 

The one thing you didn’t account for when you delivered your inner monologue to Harry was the timing of it all. Shortly after the listening party and the week you spent hiding from him, he was supposed to start a brand new tour. But that dream was cut short and he was forced to reschedule the european leg, and self isolation had officially started. You knew Harry was upset and disappointed that things had to be rescheduled. He knew there was nothing he could do, it was out of his hands, but that didn’t stop him from feeling badly. After he told you about the tour being rescheduled, you were right there with him, well not literally right there with him but he had called you the moment they had made the decision.  

It was easy to tell how disappointed he was by the tone of his voice, and it made your heart ache hearing him beat himself up about it. His usual honeyed slowed rasp was even more drowned out and you had only managed to get a small snicker out of him by the end of the phone call. You told him that you loved him,  and that you were proud of him for always seeing the bigger picture, no matter how hard it was sometimes. 

**

You were granted access to work from home, so you knew where you would be, but you had no idea where Harry would be for the length of this self isolation period the entire world seemed to be in. You almost didn’t want to ask because you didn't want to seem like you were the overly attached new girlfriend that wanted to spend every possible second with him. Sure you both said I love you but you still were trying to play it sort of cool, as much as you could. Have you seen him? Playing it cool was next to impossible. 

But one night, about three days into quarantining by yourself there was a knock at your door. 

You opened the door to your apartment to find a curly headed (and you hated yourself for how mushy this man makes you AND how mushy it sounds) angel face of a man staring back at you. 

You squealed, actually squealed when his eyes met yours and he never got tired of seeing how excited you got from seeing him. He positively scrambled to hug you as soon as you swung the door open and you laughed and steadied the two of you by putting your hands on his shoulders as the two of you stood in your doorway and softly hummed as you swayed together. 

Once he finally let go so you could breathe he asked you, “Hi angel, are you busy?” He raised an eyebrow at you and laughed once you rolled your eyes. 

“You are not a funny man you wanker.” You giggled, very loudly and your cheeks started to blush when you saw his eyes crinkle at your quip and you mumbled a very shy, “I missed you” into his neck. 

He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss. “I missed you too, love. M’sorry I haven’t been around lately or called. Head’s been in a bit of a mess after postponing everythin’. M’sorry. You deserve better than tha’ from me.” 

His eyes were so soft and he looked like a little boy peering down at you and you could tell he genuinely felt bad for not being around, even though you didn’t expect him to be after the past few weeks he had. You knew he would come back to you when he was ready, he always did. 

“I know. It’s okay, H. It’s a lot to digest. I’m sorry.” You smiled softly reached out to touch his cheek and his eyes shut at the reassuring contact. He melted into your touch and your fingers started to twitch against his cheek. How was it that even though you told him you loved him and he repeated the words back to you, that you were still this nervous? Butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach and the longer you looked at him the giddier you got. You couldn’t believe that you were the one that got to reach out and touch his face and feel his lips against your own, it was all still so surreal. And special. And the thought of all of the new possibilities that were floating around in the air between the two of you was enough to make you feel like you were walking on air. What is it about the beginnings of a new relationship or even a new friendship that fill you with so much joy you literally have no choice but to laugh so some of the joy could be released into the air for you to feel? Whatever it was, you knew that you and Harry had an untapped amount of it left to discover. God you loved him.

 After a minute of you daydreaming about the new possibilities of your relationship, Harry said your name to get your attention.

 “Alrigh’ there?” He laughed at you and chucked under your chin with his thumb. “Let me have a kiss, angel, been waitin’ long enough.”

 You squealed then too and puckered your lips and kissed him pertly one, two, three, four times. He was positively beaming at you when you broke apart and you asked him, “Better now?” He hummed and your heart dropped into your stomach (in a good way) and your throat became thick when he said “Never gonna get tired of getting to do tha’.”

 Harry cleared his throat and said “I wanted to see you obviously but I also had a proposition f’you.” He raised an eyebrow at you and your stomach swirled at the possibilities of said proposition.

 “Go on,” You raised your brow back at him and goaded him into continuing.

 “Well, yeh working from home for the foreseeable future, right?” Your eyes went wide and you slowly nodded your head yes. “Well… y’know that the tour got postponed and that i’m staying home for a while, and I was wonderin’ if you would like to come quarantine at my house w’me?” 

Your mouth fell open and before you could say anything Harry started again. 

“Know it's not supposed to be a romantic thing or summat and that the situation is serious but-” He was starting to ramble nervously and you saw the skin of his neck turn pink. “I thought you might like someone to keep yeh company, and I just really wanna spend some time w’you. Haven't gotten to properly have a date or even hold yeh since our big love fest.” 

“Our love fest?” You sputtered out a laugh and he started snickering. 

“Y’know what I mean. Maybe we can have a real love fest later.” He smirked at you and you felt your knees buckle. 

Breath positively knocked out of your lungs, you managed to squeak out, “No I suppose we haven’t gotten to do that yet. Good things come to those who wait, H.” 

That had his nostrils flaring and he suddenly had a tickle in his throat. When he didn’t speak you took the opportunity to ask him,  “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose or step on your toes. Plus who knows how long we could be in self isolation, and I don’t want you to hate me by the end of it.”

 You laughed and you knew you were mostly joking, but there was also this fear that you had that if the two of you really spent some time together, he would somehow change his mind. That if he really saw you, day in and day out he would see something he didn't like. Unlikely though considering he had practically written you an entire book of love letters. Those insecurities that  you had always had were still there at the surface, always afraid that something would happen and Harry would slip through your fingers like water. You almost had him so many times over the years and even though it seemed like you were both in this together now you still hadn’t had that conversation yet. Sure you were in love but what does that really mean? 

There were so many things you and Harry had left to talk about and you had so many things to discover with one another. But the more you thought about it this might be THE perfect time to get to know each other on this new level. Day in and day out together to learn what it’s truly like to be loved by him. And plus all of the fun and exciting and sexy steps that the two of you had to take together. Andhaving Harry all to yourself for the foreseeable future was enough to make you scream with excitement.

 As you stood there mulling all of this over in your head Harry stood there patiently waiting for your response. He knew you well enough to know that you were running a possible million scenarios through your mind. He reached for your hand to lace your fingers together.

 “Love, please don’t say things like that. Y’know there is nothing you could ever do to make me not want to spend time with you, do you remember me saying I was in love with you? The handful of love letters that have your name all over them? Been watchin’ too much TV and forgot?” 

Your cheeks warmed and you were suddenly fidgeting again, everytime you were reminded that he loved you too it knocked the wind out of you. “C’mon love. Come stay with me. I don’t wanna go home w’out you. Come stay with me.” 

You stood there melting under his stare and when you looked up at him from your fixture on your wood floor you smiled and bit your lip before nodding. Like hell if you’d leave now,  you had waited long enough.

 “Okay, okay. If I must keep you company in that ridiculously massive house of yours. I’d love to H.” You giggled to hide your squeal over the fact that you would be alone, ALONE with him for the next few weeks. 

Suddenly Harry was in your apartment and picking you up and spinning you around. “Y’will? You’ll really come home w’me?” His lips were trembling and his smile took over his entire face as he held you tightly against him. Looking him up and down and smiling you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and brought your eyes back to his, “Yes, yes i'll come home with you, H. It’ll be nice to have you to myself for a while.” 

You were cut off from him lunging forward and kissing you so hard it hurt just a little bit and you melted into it. In just a matter of seconds he had you so pliant, puddy in his hands. As if you'd ever say no to spending the next few weeks wrapped up in him. Literally and figuratively. If the next few weeks consisted of kisses like this and his hands on you at all times, you were more than game for it.

 “Y’have no idea how nice it’ll be, love” 

That sentiment, actually more like a promise he was set to deliver on made your stomach drop in the most delicious way.

 Breaking apart from his lips finally you were out of breath, and shakingly told him “Come in and wait for me so I can get my stuff.” Another kiss, “I won’t be long.”

 Leaving Harry sitting in your living room waiting for you to get your stuff together, you texted Sam to let him know where you were going to be for the next few weeks. Sam was one of the first people you called after your and Harry’s “love fest”, and he was so excited he had to come over and scream about it with you in person. He had been texting you everyday waiting to see if anything else had happened yet. You knew telling him you were going to stay with Harry would make him almost excited as it made you. Pulling out your phone you typed out:

 “Gonna be staying at Harry’s the next few weeks. Tour was postponed as you know and I’m so excited to spend time with him. Just wanted to let you know. xx” 

Your phone dinged almost immediately with a response, you knew Sam was as bored as you were, on his phone even more than normal.  

Sam: “OOOOOOH SHIT!!!!!!! That’s incredible babe! Hope you’re packing some lingerie because things are definitely going to happen, babe!” 

 Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit!! The possibility of sex hadn’t even crossed your mind, well, today it hadn’t crossed your mind. Obviously sex with Harry has crossed your mind over the years of your friendship. Have you seen him? No, seriously, have you seen him?! It’s infuriating that he looks like that. And it’s not like you didn’t know he was well endowed, years of friendship and accidentally and sometimes not accidentally (on harry’s part) you had seen him naked and willed your eyes away to not look at it, even though it was next to impossible. The thought of having the real thing and so so so much more was exhilarating, terrifying, and made your stomach clench and your cheeks heat up. As exciting as the opportunity of being with Harry in that way was, it made your insecurities spill out all over again. How many women had he been with? You don’t mean it like it sounds, you know he has had very serious relationships with people and that he was no stranger to intimacy, but still. How would you measure up to the women he had been with? Why did Sam have to say that? You knew he meant well but you were also incredibly nervous all of the sudden. Harry had been your best friend that you were in love with for years now, and the two of you had told the other you were in love with each other, this was still all new territory. Territory you had dreamt of for years of getting into with him. This was a big deal. 

Trying to push Sam’s text out of your mind, you focused on what exactly to bring to Harry’s house. Lounge clothes a plenty, some stray pajama shorts, (knowing you would more than likely sleep in one of his shirts every night) plenty of cute (and sexy) underwear just in case Sam was right. You even packed a few fancier outfit options, just in case you and Harry decided to have an impromptu date night at home. Toiletries packed, laptop and your necessary chargers gathered together, you stopped what you were doing to look at yourself in the mirror. You have been waiting for this moment for a long time. He was your dream, in more ways than one, and he was here. He was here with you physically, emotionally, and the weight of that kind of hit you in a way that made you tear up. Quickly shaking those tears off you laughed and ran your fingers through your hair. 

At the same time you were zipping up your bags, you heard Harry’s footsteps carrying himself into your bedroom. He snaked his warm, strong arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck. 

“Almost done?” He started to pepper kisses down your neck and you felt like you were lightheaded all of the sudden.

Turning around in his arms you rested your forehead against his. 

“Yeah, I’m done. Let’s go home, H.” 

You didn’t miss the way his ears perked up and the smile that overtook his face once you called his house home.

 “K, darlin. Let me get your bags for yeh,” He kissed your forehead and lingered for a moment before he grabbed your bags and headed back in the main part of your apartment.

 Making sure everything was locked and out away the two of you made the way out of your place. Harry reached for your hand and led you to his car, helping you in first and putting your bags in the trunk. You watched him from the rear view mirror and noticed him smiling from ear to ear and shaking his head. You started beaming before he got into the car and once he shut his door he slid in his seat and looked at you like you hung the moon. He let out a dreamy sigh before reaching over and chucking his fingers under your chin to bring you into the sweetest kiss. His lips softly sucked your bottom lip before slanted his mouth over yours again. You were in the car for only a few minutes and you again, you were already so pliant and cushiony for him. He hummed into it and you did the same, like a couple of lovesick teenagers alone for the first time. 

His fingers traced over your cheek and he beamed at you through swollen lips. Your gaze flittered all over his face and you bit your lip before giggling softly at him. 

Harry looked like he was making no move to actually start the car and leave. He just sat there gazing at you with his dimple denting his cheek. When he just kept staring at you dreamily you laughed and kept one hand cradling his face and the other resting on his thigh.

 “C’mon H let’s go, can’t hold me or take off my pants if we sit here all night,”

 His gaze zeroed in on you and when you laughed to break the tension Harry cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to your mouth. You ran your hand through his curls and he leaned into your touch and his eyes almost shut. You leaned in and kissed him again, pulling his bottom lip back with you. He leaned forward when you finally pulled back and you were grinning nervously at him. 

Laughing you repeated to him, “C’mon Harry let’s go, take me home.” 

Harry groaned when he backed up out of your space, already craving your warm, flowery and comforting scent to invade his senses again. You were so soft and pliant in front of him already, looking at him so doe eyed and innocent, he couldn't wait to get you home alone, just the two of you, with the door dead bolted.

 “Okay okay m’going, let’s go home love,” He looked over and smiled at you, and finally started the car and put it in drive.

 **

Harry kept his eyes on you the whole drive to his house, it wasn’t very far from your apartment but also far away enough to make you feel like you were secluded from the rest of the world. He held your hand the whole way home, tightly grasped within his and he peppered kisses into your skin repeatedly. You admired the way his jaw moved as he drove, the way his curls framed his face so perfectly. You ran your free hand through his hair and he groaned once you started scratching his scalp. You softly talked to each other the whole way to his house, and as you pulled into his driveway you suddenly got so nervous. The two of you being at his house together, alone was nothing new, but the two of you being together at his house alone after you had decided to become a couple, was brand freaking new, and the nerves of that hit you as soon as you pulled into the drive. 

As soon as he put the car in park, he ran over to your side to open the door for you, something he did while the two of you were just friends. He very theatrically opened your door and reached for your hand to practically pull you out of the car. Once the two of you were inside the house and he unloaded all of your bags he reached for your waist to pull you into him. 

You laughed and fell into his frame and his hands cradled your face, and he smiled before slanting his lips over yours. Some of your nervous energy melted away, and when you sighed into it he took the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. This kiss wasn’t as sweet and innocent like all the other ones you two have shared, this kiss had a purpose. He wanted to kiss, and to be kissed back. He slowly backed you into his kitchen from the doorway until you were resting against the bar of his breakfast nook. His hands shifted from your face and slid down your back and once you felt them near your butt you squealed and broke the kiss. 

Harry’s eyes flew open and you started laughing, uncontrollably so and you buried your face in his chest. When you groaned he laughed and started carding his hand through your hair, rubbing small circles over the expanse of your back. 

“Erm, something wrong, love?” He snickered through his confusion and kissed your forehead in hopes to coax you off of his chest and look him in the eyes. 

You lifted your face from his chest and your face was red hot, cheeks burning and you finally willed yourself to stop giggling. “No-no no nothing’s wrong it’s just,” you looked up at him softly panting, his swollen lips red and bitten from your own doing. His eyes softened when you stuttered and you groaned again. “It’s just um, you just, you, uh-” you groaned again and buried your face back into his shoulder. When he looked at you again, his gaze was even more confused than before. He nudged his forehead against yours and goaded you into telling him what was wrong. 

“You just, it’s just you just you just touched my ass,” you covered your face with your hands and started giggling nervously again. Harry let out a small laugh and you could only imagine the confused smirk he was wearing. 

 This was Harry, your best friend turned rockstar crush that you pined over for years, finally turned boyfriend. This was all brand new, undiscovered territory. You were flustered and overwhelmed to say the least. You wanted everything with Harry, obviously but this was your best friend feeling you up, the man you have fantasized about and pined over for literal years had his hands on you, that fact just seemed so unbelievable it literally had you in disbelief. Hence the freaking out and nervous uncontrollable laughter. You suddenly felt like you had never been in front of a member of the opposite sex before and the thought of having THIS man’s hands on your hips? You were surprised you weren’t passed out on the floor beneath him. Any sort of physical touch from Harry when the two of you were friends had you about to fall over, and the fact that you could now touch him and hold him and kiss his glorious skin had you shuddering in disbelief.  You were incredibly embarrassed by your outburst, hiding your face in his chest and panting.

“Is tha’ not okay?” His eyes flitted around your face, afraid he had gone too far already. 

You heard him scoff and you were terrified he had gotten the wrong impression entirely. You lifted your head from it’s resting place on his chest and kissed up his neck to his cheek and blurted, “No no no it’s not funny H I swear it’s just-” he raised his brows at you in question. “It’s not funny, it's just this is all new, brand new actually and it’s just- I just, it’s new, that’s all.” You smiled at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth after you were done rambling. Understanding lit in his eyes, and he laughed with you this time. 

He pecked your lips again and ran his hands over your hips and up your back, and he leaned his forehead against yours. You lifted your gaze to meet his and you let your head fall back against your neck, and he groaned at the sight of your hair elongating your neck. 

When he finally spoke his voice was raspy and he softly murmured to you, “S’pose it is all new, huh? Guess we should talk about some things first, if tha’s what you want.” 

You bit your lip again and with wide eyes you slowly nodded yes and slid your arms around his shoulders, carding your fingers through his hair, softly scratching his scalp. He was melting under your touch and his eyes fluttered shut before he groaned again. When you softly giggled he opened his eyes and whined. “Christ, gotta stop looking at me like tha,’” you giggled again and scratched his lower back. He buried his face into your neck and growled playfully into your skin. 

“C’mon love,  s’go get your stuff squared away an’ then we can have a talk,”  

**

Your stuff was squared away and you were giddy at the thought of your clothes mixed in with his in his chest of drawers and your toothbrush next to his. You normally stayed in his guest room when you were just friends, and most of the time Harry ended up in bed cuddled beside you when you woke up in the morning. The thought of getting to sleep in his bed, with him, under the same roof made your chest ache and butterflies swarm in your stomach. You knew he would tease you if he heard you say it but you had always loved his bedroom. It was calm and serene, muted in color but not dark, old vintage posters on one of the walls and dark curtains covering the windows that led out to his balcony. You hated how teary eyed you were when you put the last of your stuff away, and Harry pretended not to notice, instead he was just waiting for you in the doorway, silenting watching. When you turned around to face him he reached his hand out for you, smirking at you. You took his hand and rolled your eyes and let him pull you into him. 

“Shut up,” you scoffed as you tried to walk past him before he grabbed you. 

“M’not sayin’ anything love,” 

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” 

He snickered into your neck and you didn’t need to see his face to know his dimples were popping. His arms tightened around you and you sighed at how easy it was to fall into him. 

“Wanker.” 

**

You followed behind him walking downstairs back into the living room, and he waited for you at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Go have a seat love, I’ll put the kettle on an’ be there in a second,” He sent you a shy smile and his eyes were doing the sparkly eye thing that they so often do when he looks at you. You nodded your head and watched him disappear into the kitchen. 

You plopped down onto the l-shaped couch in the living room, curling up on one side of it and plopping a pillow onto your lap. Sitting there in the same living room that had previously been the sight of your massive meltdown only a few weeks prior, you couldn't help but remember how heartbroken and alone you felt on that night. How badly you wanted Harry, how angry and pissed off you were at him, but mainly how much all that you wanted was to be with him. Now only a few weeks later, the two of you were a unit, an item, in love. Again, what kind of yearning covered day dream was this? You looked down at the couch you were perched on, running your fingertips over the fabric you giggled at the memory of you weeping like a mad woman and causing a scene. The things you have to do to get his attention, right?! Kidding, but seriously. 

You turned your head towards the kitchen to get a glimpse of him, that curly headed, lanky legged, dreamboat of a man making you tea, you couldn’t help but tear up a little bit. How long had you waited for this? How long had you dreamed of having moments like this with him? How long had you waited to share a bed with him, to see your clothes hung up in his closet, to see your toothbrush next to his, to be able to feel his fingertips against your own, his lips against yours? You wanted to take in every moment, every minute detail of being here with him. You wanted to save every memory and so you could replay them over and over again when he was gone and away from you when he was on the road again. He makes people feel everything so deeply, and you were not immune to that. In fact you were the least immune person to that. 

After what felt like an eternity of tea making Harry pottered his way into the den, your favorite mug of his that was designated for your use when you were at his house in one hand, and a mug with a gold H in his other hand. “Alrighty then angel, here we are,” He was beaming at you as he sat the mugs down on the coffee table. You shifted your pose and nervously smiled up at him. Suddenly there were no words left in your brain. Damn him and the sparkly eye thing. 

He plopped down on the couch on the opposite side of you, and patted the spot next to him. 

“C’mere love, want you closer if we’re gonna talk,” 

When you scooted closer to him he patted his lap. “Mm gonna need you a bit closer love,” He winked at you and you giggled softly before crawling on his lap. Now eye level with him you put your arm around his shoulders and ran your hand through his hair. Your gaze flitted around his face before you looked in his eyes and smiled, beamed at him. 

“Hi mister,” you nervously giggled and you felt your stomach start to do backflips again. 

He laughed softly, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and he sighed when your eyes fluttered at the small gesture. 

“Hi sweets,” He ran his fingers over your back before he rested his hands on your hips. 

When you didn’t say anything in response he laughed again and you sighed, tears welling up in your eyes and you leaned forward to kiss him. His lips were soft but firm against yours, and you loved that every kiss of his had a purpose. This was the slow, sipping one, meant to calm you down and lull you back to him. You were entranced by his lips and the two of you looked like a couple of teenagers necking on the couch of their empty parents house. You had to physically break the kiss by gripping his shoulders and pulling away. The both of you were panting and his lips were red and swollen from your biting and nibbling and he looked so besotted with you. He let out a whine and tried to catch your lips back and you laughed trying to get your breathing back to normal. 

“We’re supposed to be talking but this face of yours is so distracting,” you whined and let your head fall onto his shoulder. 

“Tha’ the only thing that’s distractin’ love?” you could hear the smirk in his voice and when you lifted your head off his shoulder his lips met your neck and he peppered kisses up your neck, his slight stubble pulling and tugging against your sensitive skin as he made his way up. 

“H, we need to- we need to oh,” your voice was caught in a throat and you let out the softest breathy moan and he pulled you closer in response. HIs arms squeezed around you even tighter and your hands fisted in the neck of his jumper and his lips found yours again. 

This kiss, oh this kiss was brand new. It was hard and unrelenting and then it slowed and the two of you moved poetically against each other. The two of you had always been in sync, able to anticipate the other’s move before they even make it, and now there was no difference. The two of couldn't possibly be closer and when you pulled back and brought his bottom lip with you he let out a growl that had your stomach flipping. When his hands gripped your hips tighter to bring you back to him you giggled and kissed the corner of his mouth and across his jaw. 

“Love if we’re gonna talk yeh gotta quit doing tha’,” he groaned again and you couldn't help but feel an enormous sense of pride knowing that you were the one who made him feel so good he was practically growling at you. 

You bit your lip and smiled at him, but when he was staring back at you, soft eyes blinking at you and that same reassuring smile he seemingly always had when he was looking at you, your smile dropped and you were suddenly so nervous all over again. You wanted to talk and get some things out in the open before you went too far too fast, this wasn’t just some guy, this was Harry. Your favorite person in the whole world, your quite literal dream man and even though you knew that you know him, like you really know him but at the same time he was Harry freaking Styles and he looks like that and you could feel him getting rock hard beneath you and you were suddenly terrified that this would happen and it would all be over. Again, not likely, (hello stack of love letters the size of your head) but the fear was still there, staring you back in the face. You were all in your head and getting teary eyed AGAIN and when your breath hitched Harry’s eyes softened again and he shifted underneath you. When your eyes were even more glossed over and tears were threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes he felt you start to shake and pulled you closer. 

“Oh love, you’re alrigh’ it’s okay, tell me what’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he rubbed his hands up and down your arms and you lifted your head from your hands to look at him through bleary eyes. “Look at me please, love let me see those eyes o’ yours,” 

When you finally wiped your eyes and took a deep breath you sighed and simply stated, “I’m scared,” 

“Of wha’? Of me?” 

“No- no not of you H, but a little I guess of just everything,” he was still holding you, his hands still rubbing soothing circles over your arms. 

He fought for you to keep his gaze on him and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Love, we don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to, m’mot gonna force yeh, yeh know that.” 

“I know that, I do H but this is just- it’s a big deal. You and me, here together. I love you and it just has felt like I’ve been dreaming the past few weeks. I can’t believe that you’re here and you’re in front of me and I get to hold you and kiss you and I finally have you, and I just want to know that you’re here with me, that you’re in this for real. I’m afraid that this is all going to disappear in the morning. I want you, more than words can say, and I can’t be without you now, now that I know what it’s like to have you.” You had managed to even your breathing out and your voice had actually gotten stronger the longer you talked. You were pretty good at delivering these inner monologues by now, you thought. Harry just sat there, once again, annoyingly unreadable and calm, just like he was that night in your kitchen just a few weeks ago. 

When you saw the corner of his mouth start to raise and he started laughing softly you gave him a very confused glare and he settled his laughter and pulled you to him to kiss your forehead. When he finally spoke up his voice was soft, but calm all the same.

“You are the cutest thing I have ever seen right now, angel,” 

When you scoffed and moved to get off of his lap his arms held you tight and he pressed you to him once more. 

“M’not laughing at you I promise. It’s just funny to me tha’ you think I don’t feel the exact same way about you. I don’t even know how m’hiding the fact that my hands are shakin’ right now. This is just as big a deal as it is to you, to me, love. I promise you that. I never thought I’d be able to hold you like this, or have the chance to make you feel as good as you make me feel, without even touchin’ me. I’d be okay just to look at you from across the same room. This is not a one night thing for me, love. Never will be. I could never walk away from you now that I know what its like to kiss yeh and feel your hand on top of mine. Not when yeh look at me the way that you do. Now that I know what it’s like to be loved by yeh. Really loved by yeh.” 

Harry was smiling so softly at you and he had his tilted trying to see if you were still in there and hadn’t gone unconscious from him again confirming that yes, he did love you too. 

When you still didn’t say anything he started again. “I love you, angel. I’ll say it however many times y’want me to and in as many languages as yeh want. It’s you and me, yeah?” 

Your response was leaning forward and kissing him, hard and you both melted into it. 

The next few hours consisted of breathy moans and I love you’s mixed in between harsh breaths and his hands on your hips and your mouth and just about everywhere else. Over and over again he made sparks shoot up your spine and your toes curl and your heart ache over how attentive and gentle, but rough and passionate he was to your body. When you finally separated both of your voices were spent and he pulled you into him and more I Love You’s were exchanged mixed with happy, overwhelming tears and shakes of his head in disbelief. 

**

The next morning as you sat in his kitchen donned in his one of his t-shirts and you watched him whistle why he busied around the kitchen making you breakfast. You sat there, teary eyed, sleep lines still on your face you had never felt more lucky than you did right in that particular moment Harry was singing his own rendition of “You Make My Dreams Come True”, and as cheesy as it sounds, he had no idea how true that was. He made you a cup of coffee and was sliding by every few minutes to steal a strawberry flavored kiss because he just couldn’t help it. Your rare moment of bravery and complete and accidental inner monologue delivery you had spewed out just a few weeks ago, got you here. With this man. You decided to jot something down in your memory. 

Reminder: Sometimes you have to just say how you feel. No matter how scared you are, no matter how genuinely terrified you are of the repercussions, you just have to say it.  Say it again and again until they hear you. Being vulnerable is scary, I won’t lie to you, but it is also one of the best parts about being alive. We have the ability to make people laugh, and smile, and we have  the ability to make them feel our love. That is not a small feat. It is a privilege. Let the people you love, know that you love them. The rest of it doesn’t matter. 

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MaybeAmanda

MaybeAmanda has been a longtime participant in X-files fandom. She has 29 stories at Gossamer, the earliest being archived there in 1998 and the latest in 2012. I've recced some of my favorites of her stories here before, including "Malus Genus" and "Snow in Alabama." Big thanks to MaybeAmanda for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

It does, in a way.  The feedback I get nowadays is either of the "I read this like 20 years ago and I just read it again" variety or the "I was too young back in the day but I have been watching the show in reruns/on XYZ streaming service/on the full-series of DVDs I got for $3 from the thrift store and I was THRILLED to discover fanfiction was being written even in the Dark Ages!" So it's a bit of a surprise, but it's a pleasant one. I answer every mail/comment because my mama raised me right!

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

It was great. It was fun. It was educational. It was a godsend. Even with the occasional bouts of back-stabbing and flame-throwing, it was mainly a welcoming, inclusive place to be. I made so many online friends who have turned into meat-friends (do they still call them that? Probably not).  During the first run of the show I had small children and we had relocated for my husband's job.  I had very little social life, but the fandom gave me a chance to meet and connect with people who liked what I liked. Then I discovered online fanfic, and it was even better!

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

ATXC I think.  A lot of email lists - 5 or 6 or 7 or so over the years. Gossamer, of course, Ephemeral when that came into being.  Haven discussion boards. My own websites.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

More than anything?  I am a fangirl.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I have always been partial to sci-fi and speculative fiction, but it rarely makes it to the screen - large or small - without being trite, clichéd, or just plain bad. It's easy to forget that The X-Files was groundbreaking - smart, scary, funny, insightful, intriguing, complex plots, on-going mythology. It looked great. It sounded great. David Duchovny was pleasant to look at, too, and damn! Gillian Anderson is/was one hell of an actress.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I found XF fanfic - somehow - probably by accident, or by way of a recommendation - and it blew my mind.  I had written fanfic (of a sort) with my friends in highschool, so I was familiar with the beast, but to find what amounted to excellent story after excellent story for free within (relatively) easy reach (because dial-up, right?) written by people who, for the most part, were thrilled you read their story and were happy to talk to you about it, about writing in general, about your shared obsession - that was amazing. As I am sitting here typing this I am feeling that thrill again - discovering Karen Rasch, Madeliene Partous, Paula Graves [Lilydale note: AKA Anne Haynes], Sheryl Martin and all the other early BNFs was, well, the only word is exciting. I felt like I was a member of a secret society and that I was sitting at the popular kids lunch table, all at once. (Don't forget, in the early days, shippers were considered delusional outliers - seriously!)

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Good?   It's not as lively a place as it once was, but I haven't renounced my citizenship or anything. If I get a rec, I check it out. I know there are those who like to pretend they never had anything to do with the fandom, but why? I am still a proud XPhile.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Angel (a teeny tiny bit) while XF was still running, but those fans were - I don't know the word.  Hardcore does not begin to do it justice. I wrote two short pieces at a friend's request then backed away slowly. Sherlock (a bit) - it is/was very LJ centred and that made it hard to find things. A lot of it moved to tumblr which made it harder, then to twitter, which - no.  I was involved in one of the less fashionable facets of the Sherlock fandom, so I was really a fringe-dweller there, too. It seemed clique-ier than XF, and they all seemed so young, and they all knew EVERYTHING about everything, and every damned thing was political, and, and, and... GET OFF MY LAWN!

But maybe I am remembering the XF fandom wrong. ;)

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Like, all fiction? Mulder and Scully for sure. Arthur Dent. Sherlock Holmes in most of his incarnations. Spock. Winnie the Pooh. Why do I like them?  They speak to me, I guess.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I haven't watched an episode in probably two years (back when it was on regular tv).  Yeah, I think about them surprisingly often.  Story ideas, weirdly.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic?

I finished re-reading The Iolokus Series a couple of weeks back, so yes.  It's excellent comfort reading.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

Lots! But as far as authors go, I hate playing favourites. I will miss someone I shouldn't and feel like crap.  The Iolokus Series by MustangSally and Rivka T. is probably my all-time favourite fic because it's so very well-written, and so very fucked-up. Kipler's Strangers and the Strange Dead is also terrifically well-written and clever. For complex, interesting case files, you can’t beat syntax6 - pick any of them.

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Oh geez. Seriously? I wrote a lot of collaborations and I love them - and my co-authors - all!  Stuff I wrote on my own: Anniversary Waltz (first XF fic I wrote so it's sentimental.) Or Blue Patches. Or Epiphany. Or The Gifts of the Magi (On a Kaiser Roll). Or 221XF.  Gonna stop now.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story?

Every time I thought I wouldn't, I did. I would never say never.

Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

Nothing finished ever went un-posted. All the unfinished stuff remains unfinished.

Do you still write fic now?

Haven't for a while, but it's not as if I have said "I SHALL NEVER WRITE FANFIC AGAIN!" I just have nothing in the works at this moment.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

With fic, it's usually from canon - some question unanswered, some road unexplored, some "what if?" that needs iffing.  With "original" fiction, damned if I know.  A snippet of overheard conversation, an interesting photo, something a random story generator spit out at me.  Sometimes things just click.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Okay so...many years ago I was on a (smallish) fic list with a friend.  There was a challenge posted - a bad fic challenge. We knew we could write some truly bad fic if we really tried.  One of the rules of the challenge was to post under an assumed name so no one would know who they were voting for. Well, my friend and I wrote something truly, painfully horrid and we were very proud of its ghastliness, so were brainstorming possible pseudonyms. She hated everything but had no real suggestions of her own.  I knew that she was a bit of a Trekkie (like me) and I said - What about Amanda Greyson and Joanna McCoy?  And she said  - What?? Huh?? Why?? And I said - Spock's mother and McCoy's daughter and she replied, "Maybe Amanda is Spock's mother but on Star Trek there is not a Joanna." By this point, I was SO DONE, and I became MaybeAmanda and she became NotJoanna. Really.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

It took years for me to admit it, but yeah, they know.  They didn't entirely get it.  The reactions I most often got were:

"Ew! You write stuff without being forced?? Ew!!"

or:

"Is it smut? I bet it's just smut. You write smut, don't you? Pure filth, right? I can't believe you are wasting your time writing pornography! That's disgusting! You sicken me! Um, can I read some of it?"

And of course:

"If you are going to write anyway, why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

which is really two questions, neither of which is easily answerable.

Anyone who tracked my work down (because I told them I wrote, but not my pseudonym) usually said something like, "Hey! You're an okay/passable/decent writer! Why don't you get published and become fabulously wealthy?"

Yeah.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Same old email (maybe_a@rocketmail_dot_com). Gossamer, my site, my LJ and probably some other places.  I can't lie - it's a bit scattered.

(Posted by Lilydale on August 4, 2020)