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hmel78 · 4 years

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In conversation with Long Distance Calling ...

Very occasionally I come across a record that really stops me in my tracks. “TRIPS”, from Munster based “post rockers” ‘LONG DISTANCE CALLING’ [released April 29th], did just that. Appropriately titled - “TRIPS” - the bands 5th studio album, takes you on a journey through a soundscape of rock, pop, metal, alternative, and ... Prog! Along the way, the band themselves saw a change of line-up (the amicable departure of Martin Fischer, and the addition of Norwegian vocalist Petter Carlson), suffered the deaths of 5 grandparents, and experienced the birth of a child - so on a number of levels, this record pushed them out of their comfort zones ; but ... ... ... they’ve created something that is truly stunning. When presented with the opportunity to speak to Jan Hoffman (bass) and Florian Funtmann (guitar), I wasn’t going to refuse!

HR : As a band, ‘Long Distance Calling’ were once described as ‘living in their own bubble’ - before you entered the bubble, who or what inspired you both to become musicians?

Jan Hoffman : Wow, that´s a tricky question J Well, I always had a very strong connection to music. Not as a musician in the first place, I started playing an instrument pretty late - about 17 I think - But I always had a strong emotional connection to music since I was a kid; it made me feel good or made me cry. I always felt a strong bond. I guess that´s what made me become a guy in a band, so I could create and share my own emotions through music. I guess my first love was Michael Jackson, haha. Later I started to dig Pink Floyd, Metallica, Tool etc. I don´t really care about style as long as it´s good and it´s able to set me on fire in some way.

Flo Funtmann : There are lots of different kinds of music which inspired me to become an artist and musician myself. My first contact with music was Cat Stevens and Bob Marley, because my parents were listening to them and I really loved it. They were also listening to soul and 70s rock. When is was 9 I got my first record, as a present, which was AC/DC. From that day on I was totally in love with rock music. Soon after that I discovered Guns N Roses which was like an epiphany: “This is what I wanna do :-)”. When I got older I started to listen to different kinds of rock music and began to step into the world of death metal while still listening to all the other stuff I liked before. Nowadays I consider myself more as fan of good music in general than of a certain genre. Though I have to say my preference is still rock music.

HR : “TRIPS” is ‘Long Distance Calling’s 5th studio album, and it would actually seem that you burst the bubble, stepped outside of the box, pushed the envelope ... Is it very different to your other albums? Was it as challenging to make, as it sounds? What did producer Vincent Sorg bring to the process?

FF : The whole process of writing, rehearsing and recording the album was very challenging but fun at the same time. For this record we knew we had to do something different than before. We knew we had to get out of our comfort zone and Vincent was the right guy to do the job. He pushed us to try harder and to question every idea someone came up with. He pushed us to work harder on arrangements, grooves and melodies. He also was like an observer sometimes because we had so many ideas for this album that we needed someone to separate good from bad and ok from awesome.

JH : I don´t think it´s very different from the last album, ´cause we also had about half of the songs with vocals there and we had one vocal song on every album so far in the past. But I think it´s the most emotional and diverse album we have done so far. Like you said, we pushed the envelope and tried to leave our comfort zone, and we are really happy how it turned out.

HR : For anyone who might never have heard your music until now - what should they expect from listening to “TRIPS”? Is it true to say that they may never have heard anything quite like it before? If someone said “Oh you sound like ...” - Who would you feel most proud to be compared to?

JH : It´s hard to say from the band´s perspective but I really think we have created something unique. It´s a trip through different sounds and styles, all under the LDC umbrella. I could live with the term “Modern day Pink Floyd” probably.

FF : I always say we sound a bit like an modern and heavier version of ‘Pink Floyd’, who spent a day in the desert jamming with ‘Kyuss’ while listening to ‘the Cure’. Actually it’s not easy to classify our music and especially “TRIPS” in one certain genre. Of course it is rock music. Maybe atmospheric rock. HR : What is your favourite track on the album? JH : Wow, that´s hard to say! It changes from time to time (which is good I guess) but I reeeeally like “Rewind” and “Plans”. All in all, I´m really into all the songs on the album and I am proud of it.

FF : Yeah that’s a difficult question because at the moment I like all of them very much. I can say that I like “Getaway” a lot because it´s something we have never done before and I totally love 80s Action Movie soundtracks. Beside that I really like “Plans” because it´s split in two different styles - The first half is very chilled and dark, while the second half is just simply stadium rock.

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HR : Have you started to think about a 6th album? How far are you prepared to push the boundaries of your own creativity as a band? Do you think you have found a working formula that you are going to stick with for a while? Will you return to just instrumentals, or will Petter Carlson remain as vocalist?

JH :We are not really thinking about it yet J. We want to enjoy the new stuff now for a while and we never plan in advance, we just go with the flow. And we try to avoid formulas! Regarding Petter: definitely maybe J

FF : That’s true - for us every album stands alone. There is this whole cycle with writing, recording, waiting for the release and touring for every album. After this is finished we start to think about our next album. I know that on our next album there will again be something different from the previous ones because we like to experiment and try new things. Like you said to push the boundaries of our own creativity. You never know what will happen. And I love to do it like this!

HR : You’re heading out on tour soon. In the past you have toured with some big names, and played at some huge festivals - what has been the LIVE highlights of your careers so far?

JH : Yes, we can´t wait to finally hit the road again soon! We were really lucky with tour supports in the past, that´s right. There are many highlights but for me personally maybe the show at Rock am Ring and the shows with ‘Deftones’ and ‘Dredg’.

FF : There were lots of great things to remember. For me as a music fan it´s always nice to play shows with your idols and to find out that they are really nice guys. When we toured in Russia that was very nice and special as well, because I just thought: “holy shit – I am the guitar player in a band - like 50% of the people I know are as well and I get the chance to play in Moscow and St. Petersburg and there are actually people coming to see me/us perform on stage!” In general I love to travel the world and see places that I might had never seen without being in the band. I´m very thankful that I have the chance to do what I do, and people are interested in what I do.

HR : There’s a recurrent theme throughout “TRIPS”, and that’s time travel. There’s a great lyric in the song ‘Presence’ that says : “We all have our time machines don’t we? Those that take us back are memories, and those that carry us forward are dreams”.If time travel was ever invented, and you had the opportunity to explore - where would you go first? JH : That’s very good, tricky, and dangerous question! I think it´s good that it´s not invented (yet?) because we are human, and humans tend to do stupid things. Maybe I only would go back to one day in my childhood just to see if this matches with my memories and to see my (now dead) grandma and grandpa in a good time of their lives.

FF : I would go back to the late 70s to steal ‘Bostons’, “More Than A Feeling” and become rich as f@ck :-)

Jan Hoffman Flo Funtmann

Further musings with Jan ...............

LONG DISTANCE CALLING - BOUNDLESS

2018 is already looking like a great year for new music - starting with the forthcoming masterpiece from German post-rockers ‘Long Distance Calling’. “Boundless” once again finds the band as a 4 piece - Florian Funtmann (guitar) , Jan Hoffman (bass), Janosch Rathmer (drums), and David Jordan ( lead guitar) - and their return to producing a fully instrumental album. I will admit that it came as a surprise to me following the success of 2016’s “TRIPS”, which sits firmly in my Top 10 albums of all time, and incorporated, for me, a perfect balance of vocal and instrumental tracks. So, curious to know what prompted the decision to return to instrumentals, I caught up briefly with bassist Jan Hoffmann :-

JH : We just started writing last January without any plan behind it, but realised pretty quickly how easy and fun the writing process was with just the four of us in a room, like in the early days, so we decided to go on like this, and go a bit back to our beginnings as a band. As much as we like the last two albums, they were pretty complicated to write - but we needed to leave our comfort zone back then. Now we feel well, and comfortable, to be back to the core of the band and let the chemistry between us do the tricks.

HR : For some people, it’s difficult to listen to instrumental albums because there’s often a need for lyrics that help to tell a story - what were you imagining when you were creating the songs?

JH : When we write songs (especially instrumental songs), we always want to create a soundtrack to a feeling and this topic was very important for the new album. It should be the soundtrack to the life and to a journey into the unknown, that´s why the album is called “Boundless”.

HR : You know, they are soundtracks to feelings. I was drawn in from the first listen, and I think you capture emotion in a number of ways - which is almost impossible to try to explain to anyone who hasn’t yet heard the album, so we should let listeners know what to expect ... In three words Jan, can you describe the album? JH : Wow, that´s difficult haha but ok: DARK, INTENSE, BEAUTIFUL

And I agree entirely! I feel that the band have every right to be proud of what they have created with “Boundless” - it really is nothing short of phenomenal. It’s very thoughtfully composed and a compelling listen, from start to finish. If you’re particularly into soundscapes and soundtracks, then you MUST check it out - equally, if you’re a fan of prog, hard edged melodic rock, with maybe some electro thrown in, or if you just simply love the sound of soaring guitars, then I’m sure you will hugely appreciate this record too.

Judge for yourself on February 2nd 2018, when “Boundless” is released through InsideOut music. More info at www.longdistancecalling.de In the meantime, here’s their official video for “Out There”

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#prog rock #guitar #new music #bass #trips #progressive rock #rock music #atmospheric #Youtube

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heavenssexiestangel · 6 months

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More music recs! Since you liked my last ones, here's some more:

"Shoot to Thrill" by Halestorm (yes, it's the AC/DC song, but Lzzy Hale does a kickass cover)

"I Miss the Misery" by Halestorm

"I Like it Heavy" by Halestorm (can you tell I like Halestorm?)

"I Am The Fire" by Halestorm (also used in the Wayward Sisters episode)

"Disney Villains Medley" by Peter Hollens feat. Whitney Avalon (for a change of pace, and the video will have you cracking up *and* aroused at different parts, or at least it did me for the "Hellfire" bit) (Peter is amazing and I love his voice, he's done a lot of covers for songs popular from movies)

"Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" by Caleb Hyles feat Jonathan Young (two *AMAZING* YouTube cover artists that I highly recommend checking out, and I love this version way better than Set It Off's)

"I'm Falling for You" by Chester See (another cover artist, a beautiful song, and the heart he shows in the video during the song? *chef's kiss*)

Finally managed to listen to them ahaah

Shoot to Thrill by Halestorm - I HATE when songs start only in one earbud and only go into the other after a while cuz I always think my earbuds broke .-. That said, Lzzy Hale's voice really suits the song.

I already knew I Miss the Misery and it gives me Alastair/Dean vibes every time

I remember this rhythm so I think I listened to this song but I don't remember when... LOL

I didn't like I am the Fire much... maybe I need to re-listen to it more, eventually

I know Peter Hollens! Hadn't listened to him in a while

I know the song (and Set it Off... although I wish I didn't lol). But uhm... here I disagree. I don't think their voices fit the song and music

This last one feels very... uhhh Italian? Dunno, it reminds me of bands such as Sonhora or Studio 3 XD

This ask motivated me to write 251 words

Experiment Total: 3862

#anon #music recs #dean talks

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

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Simple Addition

Pairing: Shy!Peter Parker x Reader

Request by @satanswitchings : reader asks a very shy Peter to help her with her math homework. They become close, but Peters feelings get hurt when reader won’t admit they’re friends in school

Masterlist

“Hey, wait up.”

Peter stopped in his tracks when he heard your voice from behind him in the hallway. He turned around slowly just as you caught up to him. You gave him your million dollar smile and ran your fingers through your hair, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“It’s Peter, right?” You asked, but you knew the answer. He’d sat in front of you in math half the year and though he never raised his Ahmed or participated in class, he aced every test. The same, however, could not be said for you.

Peter gulped and nodded rapidly, not trusting his voice enough to speak.

“Cool.” You smiled. “So, I have no idea what we just learned. I paid attention and took notes but it still doesn’t make sense to me. I um, I saw you got a 100 on the test. Are you good at math?”

It took Peter a minute to process what you had even said. He was focusing so hard on listening that he didn’t listen at all. He blinked a few times and forced himself to nod, internally kicking himself for being too shy to speak.

“Well, I’m not. Like, at all.” You sighed and shifted your books in your arms. Peter’s eyes clocked the math test on top of your notebook with a failing grade. “I was wondering if you could help me out with the homework? Logarithms for right over my head.”

Peter made sure to listen this time and wordlessly took off his backpack. He went into his red math folder, because math is red, and handing you his completed homework. Your eyes widened in surprise at how easy it was to get it as you looked over the sheet.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll see you-“ You looked up to thank him but he was already gone.

“-later. What a little weirdo.” You chuckled to yourself and put his homework in your folder.

“Who was that?” Your friend Gwen came up to you to ask as she squinted her eyes in Peters direction.

“I don’t know. Some boy in my math class.” You lied. “He gave me his homework though.”

“Nice. I love getting nerds to help me.” She nudged you teasingly with her elbow.

“You’re such a bitch. I love it.” You teased her back as you walked to your next class.

You were walking by the library the next morning when you spotted Peter inside, sitting alone at a table. You went in and took the seat across from him, chuckling a little as he slowly looked up at you in disbelief. A blush spread from the bridge of his nose all the way down his neck as you smiled at him.

“Hey. Thanks for letting me copy it.” You greeted him as you gave him back his math work.

“N-no problem.” He stammered, not looking at you as he put in back in his folder.

“Ahh. So you do speak.” You commented, pleasantly surprised to hear his voice for the first time. He gave you a weak smile and quickly looked away, eyes going back to his Spanish homework. You noticed what he was doing and furrowed your eyebrows. His homework was barely done and it was due later that day. You knew because you were in the same class and breezed through it the night before.

“Is that for Señor Kuhn’s class?” You nodded towards his paper. He looked at you quickly and nodded as he toyed with the cap of his pen.

“You know it’s due today, right?” You asked just to make sure he knew.

“Spanish isn’t my speciality.” He said softly as he brushed some hair out of his eyes.

“Really?” You wondered. “I thought everything was your specialty.”

You knew Peter was a smart kid, some might even call him one of the schools nerds. It surprised you to hear he also struggled with schoolwork.

“I, um, can’t really figure things out without an equation.” He was barely audible but you still heard him. He was painfully shy, and that made him all the more endearing to you.

“Well, Spanish is kinda like an equation.” You told him. “You add the subject to the verb to get the conjugate. Like, this is your homework and you didn’t do it. No hiciste la tarea. I did do the homework. Hice la tarea. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah.” He smiled a little. “Kinda.”

“Here.” You took out your Spanish homework and handed it to him. “You can copy mine. I owe you one for the math homework.”

“Thanks.” He didn’t look at you as he accepted the paper, but his tone told you he was grateful.

“You can look at me, you know.” You chuckled. “You won’t turn to stone or anything.”

Peter’s face flamed red again as you acknowledged his shyness. As much as he wanted to talk to you, he didn’t know how. The words came to mind but died in his throat, leaving him speechless.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” You asked softly, but not meanly. Peter shook his head as he slowly looked at you, a sheepish look on his face.

“Not really.” He mumbled.

“Thats okay.” You shrugged. Talkings overrated. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around?”

Peter nodded eagerly at you as you stood up from the chair. You waved at him, and he weakly waved back. As soon as you were out of sight, he banged his head on the desk a few times out of embarrassment. The girl he’s been crushing on since third grade had finally noticed him and he couldn’t hold it together long enough to speak to her. He picked his head up and sighed, eyes flickering over to your Spanish homework. He smiled a little at your unmistakable handwriting before picking up the paper and copying the answers down.

This was the first of my many homework trade offs. He’d give you the math homework and you’d give him the Spanish, an arrangement that benefited the both of you.

“Peter.” You came up to him the following week. “Did you happen to do the math homework last night? I got up to number 7 and my mind shut down. It was totally lost on me.”

Peter silently handed it to you, already having it ready since he knew he’d run into you between classes.

“Thank you so much.” You sighed in relief. “I have the spanish, if you need it.”

“Thanks.” Peter mumbled as he took the Spanish from you. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You called after him, but he had already run away.

He came to your locker the next morning with the math homework in his hand, wordlessly holding it out to you.

“Oh my God, thanks.” You took it and slipped it into your folder. “Stay here, I’ll get the Spanish.”

Peter stood there in silence as you began to rummage through your locker. He peered inside, smiling to himself at all the pictures of you and your many friends you had hanging up. Your lives couldn’t be more different, but this single thread tied you together.

“Are you on the Decathlon team?” You asked suddenly as you took out your Spanish folder. Peters face flushed as he nodded, too shy to speak. You got the homework out but didn’t give it to him just yet, knowing he’d run away once you did.

“Is it fun?” You asked. “I almost signed up freshman year until I found out you have to take a bus all the way to Washington DC every year. I get crazy motion sickness.”

“It’s fun. I- I like it.” He stammered, surprised at you making small talk with him. Though you’d never admit it to your friends, you liked Peter. You liked him a lot, in fact. He was far better than the jocks you had pinning after you. You appreciated his help with homework, but you wanted more from him. Despite his obvious shyness, you were determined to get a conversation out of him.

“That’s cool. Do you do any other clubs?” You kept the conversation going just to keep him there.

“Marching band and robotics.” He told you, speaking a little louder now.

“Wow. So you’re like a total nerd, huh?” You joked as you shut your locker. Peter opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His ears turned pink as he struggled to talk to you.

“Relax. I’m just teasing.” You assured him as you squeezed his arm. “I think robotics are cool. Have you built one yet?”

“I’ve built a few.” He nodded. “It’s probably not the kind of robots you’re thinking of, though. It’s mostly machines that can complete basic tasks.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you speak at once.” You smiled happily. “Here’s the Spanish.”

“Thank you.” He mumbled through a smile as he took it. “Uh, I’ll see you later. Bye.”

And with that, Peter bolted away without another word. You laughed to yourself at his odd behavior before one of your friends came up to you.

“Hey girl.” She greeted. “Who was that?”

“No one.” You lied again, wondering briefly why you even did it. “Let’s go to homeroom.”

In a slight change of events, Peter was the one to approach you the following week. He spotted you in the library and had every intention of minding his own business when he realized you were crying. He couldn’t be totally sure because you had your hands over your face, but your body language told him you were very upset. He took a deep breath and smacked himself on the cheek before walking up to your table.

“Hey.” He said softly, startling you a little as you looked up. You quickly wiped your face free of tears and gave a weak smile, gesturing for him to sit down.

“Hi.” You nodded, averting your eyes so he couldn’t tell how glassy they were.

“You okay?” He asked as he slid a packet of tissues towards you. You laughed sadly as you accepted the packet, quickly taking one out to dry your eyes.

“This is so embarrassing.” You sniffled. “I cannot understand this math for the life of me. You know I got a 67 on the last test? I’m gonna fail this class.”

“You won’t fail.” Peter assured you. “You just need to practice.”

“I try to but I get frustrated when I can’t understand the problem and then I stop. How is it so easy for you?” You asked desperately.

“The same way Spanish is easy for you.” He said. “Different people have different skills.”

“But math is a basic skill that we learned when we were five. The teacher told me if I fail one more test, I’m gonna go to summer school. I’m so stupid.” Yoh began to cry again, turning your face so he wouldn’t see. Peter felt a strong urge to walk away due to his inter hatred of awkward situations, but he felt a stronger urge to comfort you. He got out of his seat and took the one beside you instead, placing a gentle hand over yours. You turned your head sharply in his direction at the unexpected contact, eyes flickering from your hands to his face.

“You’re not stupid.” He said at the loudest you ever heard him.

“Then why can’t I get this?” You whispered.

“Um, I…I don’t…” Peter struggled to find the words to say to make you feel better. He frowned and shook his head, cursing himself for being shy.

“It’s okay, Peter.” You said suddenly. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. I’m sure you have your own things to deal with, you don’t need me to burden you with mine.”

“You’re not being a burden.” He found the words this time. “Doing the homework is what helps me remember how to solve the equations. Since you’re just copying my work, you’re not getting the extra practice.”

“You’re probably right. Actually, I bet you’re exactly right.” You sighed as you looked down at the math you’d been trying to figure out for the last hour. You chewed your bottom lip as you through about what he said and came up with a solution.

“Could I get your number?” You asked him. “Maybe it’ll help me if you explain the homework to me instead of just giving me the answers.”

“Oh, sure.” Peter gulped nervously as he took out his phone, handing it to you with shaking hands. You typed your number into it, smirking at his Lock Screen, a picture of him and Mr. Stark.

“Cute background.” You mumbled as you handed his phone back. “You can put your number into mine as well. I have a feeling you’re not one for texting first.”

“That’s, um, that’s true.” He laughed shyly as he put his number in your phone. “You may be struggling with math, but you’re excellent at reading people.”

“I do my best.” You shrugged. “I’ll talk to you later, Peter.”

Just as you promised, a text from you appeared on Peters screen later that evening.

“Hey Peter. It’s Y/n.”

Peter gulped nervously and picked up his phone, thumbs dancing over his keyboard as he thought of a response.

“Hi. Need help with math?” He texted back.

“Eager to get started I see. We could talk first, you know.” You teased him, hoping he would get your sarcasm through the text.

“About what?” He asked, having literally no idea what a girl like you would possibly want to talk about with a boy like him.

“Idk. Our days, the weather, the fictional character from our childhood that we projected on. Whatever you want to talk about.” You sent, making him laugh.

“I have nothing to say.” He wrote back. He knew it sounded lame, but he was being honest.

“Then I’ll start. What’s your favorite fruit?” You texted. The random quetsion made him chuckled as he rolled over and hugged his pillow.

“Strawberries.” He answered back.

“This is the part where you ask me what my favorite fruit is. That’s how a conversation works.” You wrote, poking fun at him once again.

“I’m not good at conversations.” He reminded you, a cheeky smile on his face.

“So I see. Come on, Peter. Let me pick that pretty little brain of yours.”

Peter rubbed his face as he grinned, blushing over you once again.

“I already told you I like strawberries. Idk what else I can say. That’s basically my whole personality right there.” He texted you, letting a little bit of his personally shine through.

“Hark! 😳Is that a sense of humor? You’re three dimensional after all” You wrote back.

“I have a glimmer of a personality every now and then” He laughed as his own joke as he texted you.

“I’m shocked. I thought you were just the token cute but shy background character that gets his arc in the third season” You sent. Peter let out a shaky breath when he read that you called him cute. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were flirting.

“Oh I’m much more. I only think about the way I said “here” during attendance for HALF the day now. Used to be much longer 😏”

You laughed out loud when you read his text, loving that he was finally showing you his personality.

“Say less 🙈😍” You texted back.

“Sometimes I hold eye contact when I’m really feeling wild” He wrote you.

“BABY stop you’re turning me on”

“One time I coughed in class instead of holding it in even though I already coughed a few minutes before” Peter was feeling much more comfortable with you now, your reaction to his texts giving him the confidence to go on.

“You’re such a bad boy 🥵 Do you ever ask to go to the bathroom during class?”

“Never 😉” He sent, making you giggle.

“That’s so hot 🥴” You texted him, imagining the blush it would put on his face.

“I’m glad you think so. I’m just a little 👉👈”

You sat up in bed and laughed loudly, falling in love with him with every text. It’s always the people you don’t expect who make you smile the most.

“BAHHAA I cannot believe you. You should talk more!! You’re actually really funny” You texted him, hoping he would listen. If he had been this open in school, you would’ve noticed him years ago.

“You mean I’m not just a pretty face? 😔🥺” He stole your joke from before. It was a minute before you answered, his heart pounding as he waited.

“You’re that too” You finally said, making him smile.

“Don’t get used to this.” He told you. “It’s a lot easier to talk over text. It may be months before I make eye contact with you”

“Well lucky for you I’m a patient person”

“Are you ready to do the math now?” He asked, feeling his social better beginning to drain.

“Yes I’ve gotten my Peter fill. Can we FaceTime?” You asked and his heart skipped a beat. Not knowing what to say, he turned to humor.

“Sure but I’ll only show my ceiling and barely speak 🥰” He wrote. You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head at his antics.

“That’s okay.” You sent. “I’m calling you now”

Peter sat up in bed and swiped his hands through his hair to tame it before your contact lit up on his screen. He took a deep breath before clicking the answer button.

“Hey. What are you doing?” Your smile appeared on his screen. Your phone was propped up against something as you sat at your desk, homework all out in front of you. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips as he saw a glimpse into your room, and you think thinking the exact same thing. Your walls were full of pictures of friends and his were full of decathlon posters. They were different, but different was okay.

“I’m just laying in bed.” Peter told you. Only his eyes could be seen from his camera and as promised, you were looking at his ceiling.

“Aw. Without me?” You teased and shot him a wink. Peter’s face flamed red before he disappeared from your screen all together. You let out a laugh at the surprised squeak he made as he struggled to find words to say.

“Wait, come back.” You chuckled. “It’s so fun to flirt with you because of how red you get but I genuinely fear you’re gonna have a heart attack. Does your family have a history of heart problems?”

“No.” He answered your joke question seriously.

“Okay.” You nodded in satisfaction. “Then you looked really cute today.”

Peter’s face left the screen again but you heard him let out a flustered laugh, which made you laugh as well.

“Let me see your face.” You whined as you leaned your cheek on your hand.

“No.” Peter laughed. “Open your textbook to page 56. There’s a good practice test I want you to do.”

“Okay, I see it.” You found the page and looked over the question. “How do you do number one?”

Your face timing sessions became a nightly routine as you tutored each other in your respective subjects. Peter eventually worked up the courage to ask you to come over to study for midterms, which you gladly accepted. Even after you got an 81 on the midterm, you continued to go to his house twice a week for studying. Two months later, he had become one of your best friends, even if he was still a little shy around you.

“I think of it as BAE.” Peter explained, lying on his stomach beside you on his bed. “Base, answer, exponent. Do you want to try this one?”

“Okay.” You nodded and took the pencil from him. “The base is 2. The answer is 8. And the exponent is 3?”

“That’s right.” Peter smiled but didn’t look at you. “You got it.”

“Finally.” You sighed in relief. “Do you think I’ll be ready for the test on Friday?”

“I think so.” He nodded as he wrote down another problem.

“I think so?” I need to hear your confidence, Peter.” You urged as you nudged him with your elbow.

“Fine.” He spoke up. “You’re going to ace this test, I know it. You are going to ace this test because you are smart and capable and I’m so proud of you.”

A shocked smile lit up your face at Peter’s words of encouragement.

“Wow. That was almost a normal volume. I’m impressed.” You remarked.

“Shut up.” He mumbled through a laugh as he went back to his equation.

“Sorry. I’m just teasing.” You assured him. “You can speak at whatever volume you want.”

Peter looked up from his notebook and smiled softly at you, holding your gaze for a moment before returning to his work.

“Hey.” You smiled in realization.

“What?” He wondered.

“You looked at me.”

“I always look at you.”

“Yeah, but you held eye contact with me.” You gushed. “You don’t normally do that.”

“I guess I’m getting more comfortable around you.” He shrugged bashfully as he averted his eyes. You knew he was getting overwhelmed, so you didn’t push the subject. It still meant the world to you, though, as he was finally coming out of his shell.

“Good.” You mumbled. “Good, I’m glad.”

Peter looked at you again with a shy smile, and you looked back. As you stared at each other, you saw his eyes drop to your lips before returning to your eyes. You picked up his signal and leaned in a little, but he quickly looked down and away. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and cleared your throat to hide your disappointment from him.

“Um, so do you want to start Spanish?” You suggested, not wanting to spend another minute in that moment.

“Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Let’s start Spanish.”

You walked into school the next day with a heavy heart after Peter rejected you. Being in the popular crowd, you were usually the one doing the rejecting. You had always assumed Peter wasn’t making the first move because he was shy, but now you knew it was because he didn’t feel the same. Your friends were already waiting for you at your locker, so you painted on a smile and let it go.

Peter spotted you at your locker and could immediately tell something was off. He knew you well enough to know when your smile was forced and he was a sneaking suspicion that he was the reason why. He hadn’t meant to dodge your kiss the night before. He wasn’t even entirely sure you were leaning in for one, which is why he short circuited and pulled away. He’d been beating himself up over it but had an idea of how to make it right. You were always encouraging him to be bolder in school, and he couldn’t think of anything bolder than walking up to you while you were with the popular kids. Before he could lose his nerve, he walked up to you and cleared his throat.

“Hi, Y/n.” He said a little louder than he was used to, surprising the both of you.

“Uh, hi Peter.” You looked at him briefly and quickly looked back at your friends. You couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore because of the range of emotions you were going through. You were frankly a little pissed at Peter for pulling away from the kiss, but you were also proud of him for having the courage to come up to you at school. That pride was currently being overshadowed by embarrassment as your friends gave you strange looks for talking to him. On any other day, you would’ve been happy to talk to him in public. But him pulling away from your kiss and then talking to you was sending you mixed signals that frustrated you to the point where you didn’t even want to speak to him.

“Um, do you think we could meet an hour later that usual today?” He asked sheepishly. “I have a feeling band practice is gonna run late.”

Your friends looked at you in amusement and one of them made kissy faces in your direction. Your face heated up in embarrassment and you decided you needed to get rid of Peter as quickly as possible.

“Sure. Whatever, that’s fine.” You said quickly, hoping he’d get the message and leave.

“Did have any trouble with the practice problems I gave you?” He asked and your jaw almost dropped. Your friends raised their eyebrows at you, looking for answers you didn’t want to give them.

“No.” You stated bitterly.

“Practice problems?” Gwen snickered and looked at you questioningly.

“It’s nothing.” You assured her before looking at Peter. “Is there something else you needed?”

“No.” He said, shocked by your bitter tone. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah.” You nodded vaguely and turned back to your conversation. Peter took that as his cue to leave and began to wonder if the way he was feeling was how he had made you feel the night before. If it was, he understood why you didn’t want to talk to him.

“What was that?” Your friend laughed tauntingly, making the rest of the group laugh as well.

“Nothing.” You dismissed quickly. “Let’s just go to class.”

Peter was already waiting for you in your room when you got home, the sight of him making you let out an angry huff.

“What was that?” You demanded with your hands on your hips.

“What?” Peter asked curiously as he looked up from him his notebook.

“This morning. You totally embarrassed me in front of my friends.” You whined.

“How did I embarrass you? All I did was talk to you.” He pointed out, hurt evident in his voice.

“Yes, and that’s how you embarrassed me.” You stated. “They don’t need to know that you and I are hanging out all the time and they certainly didn’t need to know that you’re giving me practice problems. Now they’re gonna think I’m stupid.”

“You’re not stupid for needing help.” He said quietly.

“But they don’t get that. I never wanted them to know about this, or us, or any of it.” You explained. “What you and I do in private is between us. You can’t just come up to me and act like…”

“Like we’re friends?” He finished your sentence as he stood up from your bed. Your face fell when you realized how bad it sounded. The hurt look on your best friends face, a look you put there, made your anger evaporate. You realized almost immediately that you were in the wrong and shouldn’t be scolding him.

“Peter, please don’t do this. You know I care about you. Love you, even.” You walked to him and put your hands on his shoulders. “You’re my best friend within these four walls. But when we’re at school, people expect me to be friends with girls like Gwen and boys like Flash. People like you and me don’t really hang out, you know?”

“And I expect you to be kind.” He snapped as he pushed your hands off. “Should I not do that? Are you not capable of that?”

“Why are you yelling at me?” You stepped back from him, knowing he was getting overwhelmed. “I’ve never heard you raise your voice above a mumble.”

“I’m yelling because I’m hurt.” He yelled, voice cracking at the end. “Are we even friends? Do you regard me as that much or am I just a tutor to you?”

“What are you talking about? Of course we’re friends.” You reached for him again but he pulled away.

“Well you’re being a bad one.” Peter shot back. Your face twisted in pain as he stared at you, both of your chests heaving. Peter tore his eyes away from you and went into his backpack, quickly getting out his math folder.

“Here.” He took your practice test from his folder and held it out to you. “You got them all right.”

You took the test and looked at in in disbelief, momentarily forgetting about the fight. You’d never gotten all of the questions right before. You looked up in time to see Peter leaving with his backpack.

“Where are you going?” You grabbed his arm gently to stop him.

“Home.” He told you. “You don’t need tutoring anymore so I have no reason to stay.”

“We can still hang out. You’re not just my math tutor.” You made a desperate attempt for him to stay as the weight of your actions hit you. Peter laughed darkly before looking up at you, an amused look in his eyes.

“Would you ever admit that outside this room?” He asked.

“I…”

“Then I am just your tutor.” He spat. “Goodbye.

Peter managed to avoid you the next morning, dodging you all together until math class. You knew you had to focus on the test and not your fight, but all you wanted to do was make up with him. Once the tests were over and handed in, you took your shot.

“Hey.” You whispered as you poked him with your pencil. “How do you think you did?”

Peter didn’t turn around, which you partially expected.

“I bet you did really well.” You tried again. “I actually think I did well too, thanks to you.”

Again, silence.

“Peter, please talk to me. I’m sorry about our fight.” You rubbed his shoulder kindly but he still didn’t move.

“You are my friend.” You said a little louder. “You’re my best friend. What can I do to prove that to you?

Peter was tempted to say something to you, but the bell rang before he could. He grabbed his books and hastily got out of his seat before you had a chance to to speak to him again. You grabbed your backpack and ran after him, determined to make this right.

“Excuse me, sorry.” You pushed past people to catch up to Peter. “Hey, Peter!”

When he didn’t answer, you called out again.

“Peter! Wait up.”

Still no answer, and you were starting to get frustrated.

“Hey! I’m talking to you.” You caught up to him and grabbed his hand. He looked at your hands before looking you in the eyes and dropping your hands harshly. You stood there stunned for a moment as he began to walk away until you decided you had enough.

“PETER PARKER.” You screamed, making everyone look at you. Every pair of eyes in the hallway was looking in your direction, but you were only looked at Peter.

Peter, who was about to pass away from the attention, by the way.

He looked around sheepishly as people cranes their necks to see who you were yelling at and felt his face turn redder than it ever had.

“You don’t talk much, and that’s fine.” You continued, loud enough for everyone to hear you. “I just need you to listen.”

Peter blinked a few times before nodded slowly, signaling that he would listen. You smiled in relief before digging in your backpack and pulling out your math test from earlier that day. You held it up over your head and turned in a circle so everyone could see it.

“I got an 92 on my math test last week.” You announced. “That’s the highest I’ve gotten since middle school and I couldn’t have done it without Peter tutoring me. I came to him for help with homework but I ended up with a best friend whom I love very dearly.” You were only looking at him now. “I will admit that behind closed doors and I will admit that here. But I also have to admit that I have not been a good friend and for that I am truly sorry.”

Peter smiled a little as the shocked looks of the crowd faded to nothing when he looked at you.

“You don’t have to do this here.” He whispered, but you weren’t finished yet.

“I haven’t even done it yet.” You half smiled as you shoved your test into your bag.

“Done what?” He asked as you walked up to him. You got to him and gave him an apologetic smile in advance for the attention you were about to draw to him.

“What I’ve been wanting to do for a long time now.” You told him. Peter barely had time to react before you put your hands on his face and pulled him into a kiss. You could feel his body tense up momentarily, so you pulled away just enough to whisper…

“Relax.”

Peter’s body did a better job at listening than he did as he slowly loosened his muscles. A hesitant hand found your waist and rested there as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel the heat of his skin against your face and pulled away before he could get too overwhelmed.

“I.…just…heh…um - wow - uh…” He stumbled over his words as he looked at you with a shy smile.

“Don’t speak.” You laughed and shook your head. “Just kiss me.”

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onestowatch · 3 years

Text

Aidan Bissett Wants You to Know It’s Okay to Be Alone [Q&A]

Photo: Brooke James

Aidan Bissett’s sunny and effortless disposition contrasts the chaotic ode to classic rock that is his latest track “Dumped.” The introspective and cathartic nature of his latest offering speaks to age-old feelings of heartbreak while doubling as an optimistic reminder that cloudy days cannot last forever.

Releasing soft-spoken tracks followed by headbanging, classic-rock inspired hits, this young artist’s music truly feels alive, shifting and evolving from one release to the next. With a soulful dedication to “music first, lyrics second,” Bissett is steadily creating his own lane defined by a relentless drive for experimentation. We had the chance to talk to Bissett about his creative approach, his latest single, “Dumped,” and plenty more.

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Ones to Watch: So, tell me the story behind “Dumped?”

Aidan Bissett: Wow, that’s a good question. I wish when I wrote it, it came from like, I had just been dumped… Well, okay, I had sort of been dumped. I don’t know how to explain that, but let’s just say I was in a relationship, taking time off, in a sense. When we were writing it, it was me, my friends, Ryan and Sean, and we were writing in a zoom session for like three hours. It was not a good song, and none of the three of us wanted to say it was a bad song. So, we were like, “OK, we are going to go take a break for a little.”

Then I pulled my guitar off the wall and started messing around, because when I get bored, especially in sessions, I like to try and take my mind off things. I’ll play random chords and sing random lyrics, like ad-lib over them just for fun. So, I started playing like three chords that are all throughout “Dumped,” singing this hook line that—it’s going to sound really weird—“I’m taking dumps all the time.” The guy I was producing it with was like, “OK, gross,” but that actually could be really cool… what if we change it to “I’m getting dumped all the time.” And I was like, “Woah.” That’s kind of how it started and we were on a roll and wrote the whole song in two hours.

And the song does mean a lot to me, because I have actually been dumped, multiple times. It sucks, it’s not a fun feeling, so every time I listen to it, it is kind of an “f you” type of song. Like, “yeah, I got dumped but I’m better off on my own anyway.” I always like that feeling better than wallowing in sadness. So, for anyone who does listen to it, I hope that it helps bring you out of the mourn and into a new light.

In the music video, you are seen reading an “Idiot's Guide To Love.” What was the last book you read?

I do love reading, I’ve always liked reading. I have not, in the past year, read a ton of books, which sucks because I actually do like reading. Well, okay, my senior year of high school I read like 13 books but a lot of them were for school. But they were still good books! I’m in the middle of reading Dune, which is very good so far. So, hopefully, I can finish that before the movie comes out. But yeah, I do like reading… when I have the time to sit down with my ADHD mind.

“Dumped” is a noted sonic transition for you. Can you tell me about how you approach your genre-spanning sound?

I don’t really like putting myself in one genre. I’m in a certain lane in the sense I do indie-pop, I do alternative, but I don't want to do straight pop. I feel like it's such a box, and it’s so limiting. I just love exploring different sounds, so even from the start, I put out “Different,” and then the second song was “Worst Girls Of All Time,” which was a completely different sound than the indie-pop wave that “Different” is. So, me putting out stuff like this after “Communication” is me exploring new sounds. To be honest, the things I like to hear always change, the bands that I’m listening to are always changing, and I take a lot of inspiration from a lot of different bands. I just love trying new things. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but it just keeps me on my toes instead of just doing the same formula over and over again.

What are you listening to right now?

That’s a good question, it’s kind of all over the place. There’s this one girl, Remi Wolf, who I’ve been non-stop listening to… I have been listening to her for a minute. When she put out her first EP, I loved it. But now, she’s putting out these new tracks and Solomonophonic, her producer, he’s just incredible and her voice is incredible. They are doing so many things that just aren’t normal in this time of music; it’s just so her own lane. I find that really inspiring in the sense that she’s carving her own path and not following in the line of others.

I feel like I’m always listening to Wallows no matter what. I always have them ready to go. COIN. Role Model’s rolling out new stuff so I’m excited for that, he’s kind of taking a change in his own discography. [The] sounds that he is doing are definitely a lot different from his earlier stuff. This guy, binki. He’s actually opening for Role Model on this tour. Oh my gosh! His music’s insane, so cool. It’s got so many sounds going on, similar to Remi Wolf, there’s so much going on, you’re like ‘wow.. I’ve never heard something like this before.’

For those who don’t know, you write, record and produce your music all by yourself. Can you walk me through your creative process?

Yeah, I’m very musically-driven. Everyone has their own thing, I feel like a lot of artists, like the Olivia Rodrigo types, are lyrically-driven. I’m definitely music first, lyrics second. So, when I sit down to write something I try and get something I latch onto. I’m like, “Oh, this sounds cool. Lyrics could sound cool over this.” Anytime I go into a session or I’m recording by myself, I try to lay down some form of music, and then I’ll freestyle lyrics or freestyle melodies over the top, or pick a melody I like and throw lyrics over that melody. Whether that’s a hook or a verse, that kind of just depends on how I’m feeling. It’s definitely a bit unconventional compared to other artists. I feel like artists are a bit more put together when it comes to writing music just because I’ve only been doing it for like a year-and-a-half. But I have my own process, and it works. Every time I write something I learn something new. I’m excited to see, even a year from now, what my process will be… and even if it's completely different or efficient, who knows?

Tell me about the influence of music in your childhood and the decision for you to be a musician at a young age - you started playing electric guitar very young - what was your household like? Musical family?

My dad wanted the kids in our family, I have two other siblings, to play an instrument for two years during our young adult life. He wanted us to play piano before we got to pick, so we had two years of piano and then we had to pick an instrument. So, my sister went and played two years of piano and didn’t really stick with it afterward. Then, it was my turn and I was like, “Well, I don’t really want to play piano, can I play guitar?” And since I was the only one who asked, who expressed interest in a different instrument, he was like, “Sure.” I started in second grade and I’ve stuck with it the entire time. I took lessons for years, and that’s how I kind of got into the classic rock scene. My dad was a huge classic rock fan so he showed me all greats… and that was all I listened to for years. It definitely had a large impact on what I did. I would even play in little recitals, and I always played classic rock songs like AC/DC or Guns N’ Roses.

It wasn’t necessarily a musical household, like my dad isn’t musical, my mom isn’t musical. The reason he wanted us to play an instrument is because his mom made him play an instrument as a kid, so he was like, “You guys get to do that, too.” But it is true, one of us ended up using it.

What do you want people to take away from “Dumped?”

It’s an amp-up song. I want them to feel energized, to be happy with yourself. Getting hurt in relationships happens all the time, but it's okay to get hurt in a relationship. It’s kind of how you bounce back, and I want this song to be like a bounce back. Like, you hear it and, “Oh! This is me bouncing back! I don’t need to sit and cry anymore, because that’s not fun.” Sitting and crying is okay, everyone’s done it, but there’s a point that you reach, in that break-up phase, when the crying needs to stop and you need to go out and live and be the person that you are, independently. So, I would hope that it inspires you to be your independent, wonderful self again.

Is there anything else you would like to say about your music, or in general, that you want to take the chance now to say?

Well, I’m sitting on a lot of songs. So, I’m excited to get all the rest out, and again, everything is so diverse. All the music is so diverse, I just feel like each song is its own thing, which I really enjoy. I feel that’s really unique to my own music, where you’re getting something new every time. I’m moving to LA. That’s the other thing. So, if anyone sees me in LA, please stop me and say hello!

#aidan bissett #dumped #interview #pop #indie pop #alternative pop

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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Hi! “If I fail, I’ll fall apart/Maybe it is all a test/because I feel like I’m the worst / so I always act like I’m the best” -Oh No! This is one of my favorite lyrics ever, and I'd really like to see what you bring out of it :) You're amazing, ily! 💞

what if maria had more of an effect on tony’s upbringing than most? howard’s still a dick but make it funny

Tony has known he was probably not the best human on earth ever since he was five and his dad made a bigger deal out of a dead man’s birthday than his own.

At age five, you don’t really know a lot about the world yet. There were about two things that Tony didn’t know that he wishes he did know:

1.) The word “fuck.” It would have helped with a lot of his situations.

2.) The concept of jealousy. He probably could have gone to a child therapist or some shit, he’s not sure if those even existed back then, or if his parents would have even let him go.

(After all, he’s supposed to be their perfect little boy, just the right amount of precocious and the other amount being something like genius or respectability.)

It is actually his mother who takes the reins on his life. Howard has effect, he has huge effects.

Maria is a socialite who absolutely refuses to let her son succumb to Howard’s devil-may-care attitude that he’s so infamous for. Her son is going to be well-mannered, respectable, and know exactly how to treat a lady of high social standing.

This involves training at a young age. Six would be a fine age.

It’s not Howard who sends him to boarding schools, it’s Maria. She ensures that he goes to the finest schools available, most abroad in Europe. She trains him out of the American accent, into something a bit more refined.

He spends summers learning different languages and different skills. He learns how to fence by the time he’s ten, and becomes quite proficient at it.

She quizzes him on established families, up-and-coming families, and never keeps him far from her sight.

Anthony Stark is not going to be a wild-child, she decides.

Anthony isn’t, for the most part. Sure, he usually stays up past what is acceptable for the night to work on some mechanic stuff and uses the word “damn” a bit too much for his mother’s liking, but that’s the reason make-up and apologies were invented.

He follows rules and is known to smile like his mother and enjoy listening to quartets play out in the open air during the summer months. He travels to Europe and participates in various activities and is the talk of many socialites who eagerly await his arrival.

He’s a portrait, holding still for all’s approval, and he’s not quite sure how to move.

That’s troublesome, he thinks.

The problem is this: Anthony Stark doesn’t have any interests outside what is required. He loves working on inventions, and they are necessary for the company to survive, but his father hates any robotic invention he pushes for, and mother thinks that if he tells people he’s rather fond of AC/DC then he’s a plague to society and will be shunned.

(He doesn’t say it to her face but they haven’t shunned Sunset yet, and she’s a whole world of problems, so rock music is the least of their problems.)

There is one thing that he pushes for: university in the United States. He’s been traveling to Europe since he was a child, and he honestly needs to do something for himself.

Maria is not pleased.

“So after I sacrifice so much for you, this is how you repay me?” she asks him over dinner.

He places his fork to the correct side.

“Yes. This is how I am repaying you. By getting a perfectly respectable college degree from a critically-acclaimed university that anyone would be lucky to attend. Not to mention it might reflect badly on Stark Industries if I don��t go to an American college. Do I not trust American institutions to run an American business?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Anthony laughs.

“Mother, they cannot teach me anything that Europe can’t. Let me go to college in the United States. Please.”

“No.”

It takes Howard to convince her, and a.) Howard doesn’t even like Anthony that much, and b.) he also doesn’t like his wife that much.

“He’s going to a damned college here, Maria. We don’t need him to go to any more of that fancy bullshit you call school over there.”

“Fancy bullshit, Howard?! Bullshit?! You mean what has gotten him this far in life and will make him a better man of social standing than you?”

“My god, is social standing all that matters to you? What are your little friends going to do, choke on their silver spoons when they find out that your son is going to an American college?”

Jarvis also convinces her.

“It will be easier to monitor his progress from a shorter distance,” he advises. “And you can visit frequently.”

Anthony gives him a very dirty look. Apparently, he wasn’t supposed to mention that.

Oops.

But, Anthony gets his way. He’s going to MIT, and he has a roommate.

(Okay, so mother doesn’t know that. But he supposes she will if she ever visits. Or maybe not considering if Tony can successfully convince his roommate to “disappear” for at least a day.)

Rhodey does not give a singular shit about high society anything or anyone. Anthony Stark is a name he registers, but doesn’t recognize.

“Anthony’s a mouthful,” he says a week into their cohabitation. “You have a nickname or something?”

“Ah...no? I mean, not yet,” Anthony says.

“How do you feel about Tony?”

“I...I suppose that that is alright.”

“Are you from Europe?”

“No, from New York.”

“Well holy shit, you sure as fuck don’t sound like it.”

Anthony--well, Tony now--learns quite a bit about American schooling and what he’s actually supposed to be doing to pass off as normal.

Rhodey (yeah he got a nickname that ended in ‘y’ too, Tony said he wouldn’t be the only one) takes him to the thrift store and tells him to pick out some clothes.

“...there’s a shirt that’s advertising a restaurant from Montana.”

“And? Does it look hilarious?”

“Is that the point of this?”

“Fashion is supposed to make you like what you’re wearing or like yourself. I swear if you say that those boring black suits make you feel better about yourself, I will be dragging you to any therapist that will take us for at least five dollars.”

“Five dollars?”

“Maybe less if I can negotiate.”

“Hey!”

Tony learns how to have fun. He loves it.

Rhodey makes him go to record stores and find the bargain bin, and they play the warped records and laugh as voices go up and down in pitch. Tony blasts Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden until the RA begs him to go to bed and Rhodey throws all of his pillows off of his bed.

In return, Tony teaches Rhodey how to read other’s facial expressions, dress for any occasion and be the best-looking there, as well as avoiding any sort of conflict by bringing up past embarrassments.

“Are you serious about the color of my shoe affecting my social standing?” Rhodey asks, trying to shove his foot into a shoe that was a brown color that Tony had described as a “golden mahogany.”

“Yes, I’m dead serious.”

“No fucking wonder everyone says eat the rich all of you are so fucking pretentious. It’s brown, Tony.”

“Tell that to any high society woman over fifty.”

“I will.”

As it turns out, he ends up doing it much sooner than anticipated.

Tony’s parents come to visit.

They call him Anthony. Which is gross. Rhodey hasn’t used the name “Anthony” in about six months.

“I wasn’t aware that you were his roommate,” his mother says.

“Well, here I am,” Rhodey says. “Name’s also on the information they sent out to the parents about the living situations.”

Tony tenses as his parents brush off the obvious comment on how little they actually know about his situation and move right into the room.

Maria stops at the huge poster of a rock band.

“I assume that this is...James’?”

“No,” he says timidly. “It’s...it’s mine. Their use of movement on the guitar strings-”

“Take it down,” Maria demands. “It’s unsightly.”

“Oh give the kid a break,” Howard says tiredly. “For once he’s not listening to you talk about the merits of paisley prints.”

“I’m training our son for a more successful life than yours,” Maria hisses. “Of course, you’d have to stay away from your friend Jack to understand that.”

“Rhodey, leave,” Tony says. “Trust me, it gets messier from here.”

He does think about it. How easy it would be to walk out and check in with a couple of his other friends and talk about how crazy Tony’s parents are. How he could check back in near dinner time and then Tony could tell him all about how terribly it went.

But Tony already looks terrible, and he’s doing that weird thing with his hands where he wrings them and then remembers he’s not supposed to wring them and makes it worse.

“No,” Rhodey says. “I am staying until the bitter end. Who knows? Maybe I can give your mom a heart attack when I ask her the difference between kelly and forest green.”

Tony grins.

“You can leave any time, it’s about to get...interesting.”

Tony’s family is quite dysfunctional. They can put on a good front in public, for what it’s worth.

Howard is impressed that Rhodey’s planning on going into the Air Force and then talks about Captain America for a lot of the dinner. Rhodey is very uncomfortable and then asks about business and Maria rolls her eyes and orders another glass of wine.

After Howard finishes up talking about some contract and making vague threats against businesses that Rhodey thinks might actually be in trouble, it’s Maria’s turn.

“So, Rhodey, where is your family from?”

“We live in the Boston area,” Rhodey answers.

“And what do your parents do?”

“Dad works as a consultant for a local construction company, and my mom works as a high school history teacher. They both like their jobs.”

“Hm,” Maria remarks, and it’s so light and casual and yet so cutting. Tony can see how Rhodey squirms, and he can’t just let it stand.

It’s one thing for Maria to cut her own son down until he’s nothing. Still fucked up, but Tony can handle it. He’s been handling it for years.

“Rhodey, how did your mom come to want to know she liked teaching?” Tony asks. “That sounds like it could be really hard to figure out.”

“Oh, well it all started when she was in high school and wanted to change how one of her teachers treated students. It was a really inspiring moment for her.”

“That sounds really cool,” Tony says. “What does she like most about her job?”

“Probably the kids,” Rhodey says.

The conversation carries on about Rhodey’s family until their dinner arrives and his mother manages to cut in with more questions.

“So, what else does your mother do?”

“She volunteers at the local food kitchen and helps some of the younger kids at the after-school program,” Rhodey answers. “She also makes a mean Thanksgiving turkey.”

“Would you look at that,” Tony says. “Mrs. Rhodes sounds like a fine cook, I wish I could say the same for you, mother.”

“Oh?”

Howard actually laughs at that as he signs for the bill.

“The kid is right, Maria. At some points I think your kitchen is only used for decoration.”

“Oh, and you know how to cook, Mr. Stark?” Maria asks, raising her eyebrows. “I’d love to see you make anything other than coffee.”

“I’ll make toast.”

Rhodey laughs, and so does Tony.

“Ready to go?” Tony asks, and part of it is a way to get away from an isolated conversation, and part of it is to make his parents leave for their hotel room sooner.

“Tony, I want to have a talk with you before we retire for the night,” Maria says, and Tony tenses up.

Rhodey can’t protect him from that, and he squeezes Tony’s hand as they walk behind his parents.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers.

“Maybe,” Tony says. “Maybe.”

Rhodey goes into their building, and Howard waits in the car. He nods to Tony on his way out.

“You’ve...changed,” mother says.

“Well, that’s how humanity goes,” Tony says dryly, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“Rock music? These snappish remarks towards your own mother? I don’t know if this college was such a good idea.”

“It is,” Tony says. “I just...learned new things and incorporated it into my life. Nothing the matter with that.”

“Nothing wrong with that?” Maria reiterates, surprised look on her face. “Rock music is for other people, you know things that others don’t know! You can perform violin and piano, you don’t have to listen to the personal manifestation of a headache!”

“And if I like that headache?!” Tony asks. “If I like something that’s outside of what you approve, why so angry about it? Is it because you finally can’t control every single aspect about my identity? Is it because I’m not like your perfect little toy that you can make walk and talk how you like?”

“You know it’s not that.”

“Isn’t it?” Tony asks. “Because you want me to change every single interest that I’ve found I like by myself. I bet you want me to listen to Bach for fun.”

“I do not want you to change from who you are,” Maria says. “You have eaten at the finest restaurants in the world and now you brag about making something called ramen in a microwave. A microwave?!”

“A surprising amount of families in America have them,” Tony says. “And I’m a college student! I’m supposed to eat crappy food and then laugh about it in twenty years!”

Maria turns red, and her lips screw up into a tight line.

“I don’t think you should be here,” Maria says. “You’re forgetting your place. Your roommate is...”

“My roommate is what,” Tony starts, glaring at her. “My roommate is what, mother? You want to honestly finish that sentence?”

“He’s not good enough!” she yells at him. “You are a Stark!”

Tony stares at her for a moment. And then another moment.

“Leave,” he says. “Get the hell out of here.”

“You don’t tell me-”

“I do,” Tony says, using his full height to his advantage. “You can tell me how many times I’ve fucked up as many times as you want, but you never talk about James that way ever again.”

He twists on his heel, forcefully opening the door to the dormitory and not once looking back.

Rhodey finds Tony back in his room when he gets back from getting ready for the night, and Tony is clutching a pillow and laying face down on the bed.

“You know, you’ll have to turn over eventually to get some fresh air.”

“Leave me to die, Rhodey. Oh my god.”

“That bad?”

“That bad. She’s probably going to try and put me in a prestigious college or some shit.”

“Oof. Wanna fake your death and run away?”

“Please.”

“Well, too bad. I have a test next week, and you need to do your poetry notes.”

“But poetry sucks.”��

“It only sucks because you don’t like modern poetry, suck it up and pull it out of your ass or something.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Maria is trying very hard to get her son away from MIT and towards a fancy school in Europe. She doesn’t even care where, just away from his roommate and his classic rock posters and the dormitory. Anthony needs an environment where he can focus on networking, meeting more people.

Howard says no.

He can’t even bother to remember her son’s birthday, and he says “no.”

“We need Anthony to go to an American school, and nothing is better besides maybe Cal Tech, and he’ll have to finish another year of college and Hammer Industries can use that as a sign of an unsteady heir.”

“Well then get rid of his roommate.”

“I’m not doing that, you’re asking for a PR death sentence.”

“He’s a bad influence.”

“No he’s not,” Howard says tiredly. “The kid is finally standing up for himself, and you hate that.”

“I don’t hate that he can be his own person.”

“You just wish he were his own person under your specifications,” Howard drawls. “He’s staying at MIT, that’s final.”

“Hmph.”

Howard rolls his eyes.

“Go back to planning whatever charity gala you’re hosting this week, honey. I’m sure things will be fine.”

Maria doesn’t speak against her husband, just fumes and decides she’s going to try to get Jarvis’ opinion.

Edwin is also a flat no.

“He will not forgive you if you do this,” he says, pouring her tea and adding in one sugar cube. “He loves his school, he talks about it all the time.”

“And what, he calls you?”

Edwin Jarvis realizes he shouldn’t have mentioned this.

“At times, madam. At times. Will that be all?”

“...that will be all.”

Jarvis does bring up a good point. Besides her, of course, he knows Anthony best, even if he does keep calling him Tony. Anthony will grow out of that nickname soon enough.

She has hope for her boy. He will most likely grow out of this silly little phase in life and finally appreciate her lessons.

Tony Stark doesn’t.

Well, he learns her lessons. Can appreciate some of them and how much he hates that he uses them.

But he learns a far more important lesson from Rhodey, and it shapes everything:

“You’re your own person, and you’re far better as your own person,” Rhodey says. “I wanted to kick the shit out of you when we first lived together.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did!” Rhodey explains, gesturing with his coffee mug and getting yet another stain on the pillow. (Laundry again. Ugh.) “You talked like you were from a movie from the forties, it sucked.”

“Oh, you mean the transatlantic accent?”

“It’s pretentious, just ditch it. You’re interesting enough to listen to on your own. I listen to you talk about how much you hate Picasso sculpture, don’t I?”

“You do,” Tony admits.

“So then be yourself. Use what your mom taught you sometimes, but otherwise don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I’m a fucking genius.”

Tony snorts.

“Okay, Mr. ‘I Forgot to Run the Dishes Again.’”

“I already said I was sorry!”

Tony takes Rhodey’s advice into account when he walks into any board room. He wears the worst possible shoes with every single suit, usually uses all sorts of cultural references that fly over the old board members’ heads.

He does things his way. It’s unconventional, it’s unpredictable, and it earns him a reputation.

He’s in an interview in a suit and patterned tie (patterned with tiny robots), and the woman is smiling in a plastic way on the other side.

“Now, a lot of people are saying you’re taking the business world by storm with your unconventional methods and personality. What helped you formulate this, your father?”

“Oh god no,” Tony says, laughing. “He’d probably curse me to hell and back for even wearing this tie. My mother would drag me back down to hell again for this.”

“Then who helped you with this?”

“Rhodey, who else?” Tony asks. “He always gives the best advice, even if I’ll deny that about fifteen minutes later. He really is the reason that I’m who I am today.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

“He is. He always is,” Tony says with a grin. “Except, of course, when he doesn’t fold his laundry, that bastard.”

The interviewer laughs and moves on, but Tony smiles to himself.

He doesn’t have to be the best, he just has to be Rhodey’s. That’s all that matters.

#lovelyirony writes #maria stark #howard stark #tony stark #rhodey #ironhusbands #kind of #i'm hinting at it and i didn't outright rlly say shit but y'all know me so you should know this #anyways tony DOES develop his own personality and rhodey hates him for like three months

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supernaturalphd · 2 years

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Rating the types of Dean Winchester related playlists I see on Spotify

I (Mod Lex) looked up Dean Winchester on Spotify and found a decent amount of playlists, too many for me to rate individually. I can, however, rate the general types I have seen. That is what I will be doing.

Playlists that imply Dean would have made them and are just filled with classic rock and hard rock - 9/10 Honestly, these aren't too bad. Sure, they can be a little bland, but they're pretty screen-accurate. Most of the songs are ones that have been played on the show or songs from bands that Dean has stated he likes. I have a feeling that most of these playlists are made by the middle-aged white fanboys who project onto Dean that the show was made for, which would explain why none of them have any Taylor Swift. Dean canonically likes Taylor Swift, as shown in "About A Boy" (10x12). Put Taylor on Dean's playlists if you want full points.

Playlists that imply Dean would have made them, made by mentally ill teens - 2/10 I know how much mentally ill teens on Tumblr like to project on Dean but I do not believe he would listen to Mother Mother. These playlists typically lack classic/hard rock but are do have Mother Mother, The Front Bottoms, and Bo Burnham. When these playlists do have classic rock, it's normally just "Eye of the Tiger", "Carry On Wayward Son", "Heat of the Moment", and "Wanted Dead Or Alive". If you're going to put some classic/hard rock, commit. Put some AC/DC, Def Leppard, or Led Zeppelin on there. Yes, Dean has daddy issues. No, he would not listen to "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood.

"You're in love with/dating Dean Winchester" playlists - 5/10 Most of these imply that the listener is the one who created the playlist, so there aren't really solid guidelines of what should be on them. Considering the listener is said to be in love with Dean, I think there should be some classic or hard rock there. It doesn't have to be anything super obscure; I just request one AC/DC song. I will say though, when I look at some of these playlists, they feel like they were made by someone who was simultaneously in middle school and on Tumblr in 2015, but whatever. Just know that I think Dean would really have to love you to let you play Twenty One Pilots in the Impala.

"You're the third Winchester sibling" playlists - 5/10 This is another one where the listener is implied to be making the playlist. It also is a little looser on the rules because you could be taking your music taste from Sam, Dean, John, or hell, even Bobby. There's plenty of room for interpretation here since it's just another self-insert playlist. Yet again, based on some of the music on there, I feel like most of the people making these are significantly younger than Dean, so I don't think they're doing any hunting. Also, Dean never lets you play this while he's driving. Sucks for you but you likely only get to pick the music if Sam takes you anywhere.

Dean's guilty pleasure playlists - 9/10 I think these are fun and could go anywhere. Dean never wants to be seen as anything other than a hyper-masculine cool guy so I doubt he would make a playlist dedicated to his guilty pleasure songs, but he would have some nonetheless. These have a lot of pop hits, most seeming to be from the 2000s or early 2010s, but are bangers either way. I have seen some with WAP and when I told Luna about that she said that Dean would listen to Cardi B. I have also seen Corpse Husband and Wilbur Soot on some of these which I disagree with but that's because I hate how the Dream SMP is slowly seeping into other fandoms. Some of these do have Taylor Swift on them. I think Dean would just listen to Taylor Swift openly and threaten to kill those who questioned it, but I guess some people have different interpretations of his character.

#mod lex #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #playlists

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221castiel · 3 years

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Yesterday - Chapter One

Master Post // AO3

He isn't exactly sure why he wants it so badly, his own parents were only married for five years before Mary had died and even then it was only a year later when John had stopped wearing his ring. Opting to instead leave it some drawer filled with other forgotten items; pennies and keys with no purpose other than to collect dust. Cas's parents had divorced when he was nineteen. Something that had become a long legal battle over every little thing, the house, the kids, every single piece of silverware that filled the kitchen.

Marriage had never been a permanent thing in either of their lives, and yet, Dean wanted it. He wanted it the same way he wanted the sun to set every night and rise every morning. He wanted to whisper each vow as he stared into Cas's vibrant eyes, to feel the other's lips as they kissed for the first time as a married couple. Dean wouldn't consider himself a romantic, he was just as happy to stay at home and watch Game of Thrones as he would be going on an over planned date, and yet, he wanted every sappy moment he would roll his eyes at growing up. The first dance, shoving cake in each other's faces, the perfect ring, which Dean had quickly learned is something far easier said than done.

It had taken months of stopping at the mall's jewelry store, sorting through each shipment of new rings before he'd finally found the perfect one.

"Holy shit," Charlie cries, her nose only inches from the glass case that she'd lent over, "that's a lot of bling." Dean nods, a grin tugging at his lips. Charlie's excitement was contagious, warming his chest as she continued to study the ring. He had a ring. He was going to propose. It was happening. "Seriously dude," Charlie continues in the same raised voice, "Marline Monroe would be jealous of this."

"Well could you keep it down," Dean teases, as one of the workers behind the counter gives them a side glance that he's frankly too excited to care about. "Or at least let me buy the ring before you get us kicked out."

Charlie looks up, a wide smile across her face. Her bright hair had been pulled back in a ponytail though through the workday it had begun to fall out and now framed her face in small strands. "Sorry," Charlie whispers, a grin still spread across her lips. She stands up properly and adjusts her walmart vest that she'd draped over her arm. "I'm just so excited for you- and jealous of Cas."

"I'll buy you one next."

"I'm holding you to that," Charlie teases, causing Dean to roll his eyes.

She looks back to the glass case and Dean steps forward looking over her shoulder at the rings that fill it, his gaze immediately finding the ring he'd spent the past weeks looking at. The band itself is silver, the center lined with small diamonds, while the edges were carved with a leaf like pattern. In the center a large diamond sat, catching the store's bright light and reflecting it in small shimmers. "Do you think he's going to like it?" Dean whispers. He'd been sure Cas would, but now he couldn't kick the tug in his stomach, the thought that maybe he's better off saving for a little longer, buying one a little bit more expensive or with a bigger diamond.

"He's going to love it," Charlie replies.

Dean looks up as Charlie goes silent, meeting her concerned gaze. Her lips pressed in a tight line, eyes darting over Dean's face, eyebrows knit together, her whole expression weighs on him. He already knows he doesn't want to hear whatever she has to say. Is it too late to walk away?

Despite the sudden dread that weighs on his shoulders, Charlie continues speaking. "Look," she begins, "I want to be all supportive and stuff, I really do, but how the hell can you afford this, it's gotta be more than you and Cas make in a month."

"I've been savin'"

"For what the past century?"

"Three years and just under ten months," Dean corrects. He shrugs his shoulders looking back down to the ring. "But who really keeps track of that crap."

Dean shoves his hand into his jean pockets, pressing his lips together as he looks across the rings. He can feel Charlie's eyes burning against the side of his head, but he refuses to meet them, he already knows the expression that would sit across her face, concentrated and curious, trying to figure out Dean's exact thoughts.

Charlie takes a small step closer, and Dean doesn't move, continuing to study a rose gold ring that holds a dark blue jewel in the center. "Dean," Charlie says, her voice low and gentle. "You know Cas would be just as happy with a cheaper ring, something you can actually afford."

"Cas would be happy with a fuckin' ring pop," Dean grumbles. "Doesn't mean I can't buy him something better."

"Could you push a side your prince charming complex for five minutes, and not make the most financially stupid decision of your life?"

Dean looks back to the silver ring. He knows Charlie's right, hell the thought has been in the back of his mind since he'd begun saving, putting every extra penny or dollar won during a game of pool, aside. They could pay off almost two months of their health insurance, fix their bathroom sink, save the money for if an emergency came. Dean could think of a million different things the money could go towards. Things Cas, who was far too selfless for his own good, would want the money to go towards, yet Dean couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Charlie-"

"You can't-"

"No," Dean insists, looking back to the other. "I'm going to do it."

Charlie's expression softens her lips tugging into a gentle smile. A gesture that's so simple yet seems to lift whatever weight that'd been resting across Dean's shoulders, easing his breathing, and allowing him to return the smile. "He's going to love it," Charlie says.

"I hope so."

His feet ache as he doesn't so much as walk down the apartment building's hallway but drag himself, the dim lights above casting shadows over the dingy hallway walls. Stopping at his apartment Dean pulls the keys from his pocket, the sound of fighting from the neighbours clear through the thin walls.

Fuck people. After a six hour morning shift at Walmart followed by a five hour shift at McDonald's filled with bitchy people and forced smiles, Dean was done with people. Especially loud neighbours that spent nights fighting until they broke up, only to get back together a few days later. If he had to listen to make up sex even once that night he was complaining to the landlord.

A loud crash comes from their neighbours and Dean sighs. Maybe he'd prefer the makeup sex over hate sex.

He finally manages to unlock the door and step into his apartment where he's immediately met by silence, the main room of the apartment -a small joint living room and kitchen- dimly lit by the living room table lamp. Though other than the lamp and a few dirty dishes there was no sign of anyone else. Not that Dean minds, it gives him a moment to breath. A moment to catch his thoughts and relax.

After dropping his things onto the kitchen chair Dean goes to get a glass of water, though his attention quickly changes as he stops at the kitchen counter where papers were spread out. A mix of bills and lined papers that were covered in Cas's neat writing.

Across the top of one page the words, Next Month's Budget, had been printed. Various numbers were printed underneath as Cas balanced out their income, trying to figure out how they could buy new light bulbs while saving money for Jack's birthday. He feels sick just looking at the numbers.

He already knew everything on the page. There were no surprises, medical insurance took out most of his income, car insurance took what was left. Everything Cas made was spent on food and rent, making sure the heat stayed on the months they really needed it and that water came when they stepped in the shower. There was close to nothing left.

He already knew that.

And yet he feels sick.

He flips the page over to read the back, though he doesn't get more than a glance before the sound of footsteps comes, followed by Jack's voice, "dad!"

Dean turns at the sound, forcing a smile across his face as Jack comes running towards him, a wide smile across the child's and his arms out for Dean to pick him up. "Hey kid," Dean hums, picking Jack and resting him against his hip. "Did you have a good day?"

"So good!" Jack cries, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck in an awkward half hug, causing a genuine smile to tug at Dean's lips. A warmth spreading across his chest that has him gripping Jack together as the child buries his face into Dean's neck.

"So good, huh?"

"So so good!"

Dean laughs, smiling down at Jack. "What made it so good?"

"We goed to the park," Jack says, burying his face further into the crook of Dean's neck where he rubbed his nose much to Dean's disgust, then made a soft sniffle. "And- and drawed."

"All while you're sick?"

"I'm not sick!"

"He's been refusing to take the cold medication," Cas says, Dean's gaze immediately darting up at the sound of Cas's low voice. He stood at the entrance of their hallway wearing one of Dean's AC/DC shirts, his dark hair tousled with strands overlapping one another or simply sticking out in random directions as a small smile rests across his face that Dean returns. How couldn't he. When his boyfriend was standing there looking gorgeous even with his messy hair and slightly darkened eyes from lack of sleep. Boyfriend- hopefully soon to be fiance.

"I don't want it," Jack grumbles. Dean looks back down to the pouty expression that now rests across Jack's face, his bottom lip puckered out, and eyes pleading. Something that only makes Dean's smile grow. "It's bad, I want ice cream!"

"How about you take the medicine," Dean offers, "and I'll get you some ice cream, deal?"

Jack stares back for a moment, bottom lip still puckered out as he gives a firm nod. "Deal."

After Jack runs off to the bathroom, Dean grabs a bowl from the cabinet filling it up with a few spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream before he walks out of the kitchen. He makes his way down the small hallway and into Jack's room where he finds Jack standing on his bed while Cas helps him get into his superman pajamas.

"Superman?" Dean hums as he steps into the room, careful not to break any of the toys that scatter the floor. "Batman's way cooler."

"See Daddy," Jack cries to Cas, "I telled you! I telled you!"

"I know Bee," Cas replies as he helps Jack slide his arms through the shirt's holes. "But they need to be washed."

"I want them now!"

"You can have them tomorrow night."

"Tonight you'll just have to be lame Superman," Dean teases as he takes a seat on Jack's bed. He knows it's not a good time, Cas is obviously tired, and Jack is starting to get sick, something that always leaves him a little more sensitive, but he can't help himself. He knows it's worth it when Cas sends him a glare, an expression that Dean finds far cuter than he ever should.

"Daddy!" Jack cries, Burying his face into Cas's chest as Cas wraps his arms around the child and rubs small circles into his back.

Cas leans down pressing a kiss to Jack's head. "It's okay Bee," He whispers gently, though when he looks back up the glare he gives Dean is anything but that. "You're provoking him," Cas whispers.

He definitely was.

"Am not," Dean replies in a similar low tone. Cas's eyes narrow, and Dean sighs. "Let me fix it."

It takes a few minutes for Dean to calm Jack down, between a mix of apologies and promises that Superman was in fact a very cool super hero, and in fact almost as cool as Batman. By the time he does, Jack is more than happy to eat his almost melted ice cream, then receive a piggy back ride to the bathroom where he brushes his teeth, and continues to tell Dean about his day. Specifically about the squirrel he'd seen at the park and the tv shows he'd watched in the morning. Finally after a long conversation about a show Dean's never even heard of, Dean manages to get Jack into bed, whispering a goodnight before he goes to flick off the lights.

He reaches out to the light switch, his finger grazing it before he hesitates, looking back at Jack.

Even in the single bed Jack looks small, far too small for a four year old. The doctors had insisted it was fine, a common side effect to a chronic illness, nothing anyone could fix, and yet Dean couldn't help but feel guilty. A weight in his stomach as if he'd swallowed lead, he wanted to fix it so bad, wanted to make sure Jack was never going to be anything but okay. He wanted to fix it no matter how many times he was told he couldn't, and he knew Cas felt the same way.

Jack made a small sniffle then his eyes fluttered open, meeting Dean's stare. "Dad?" Jack whispers, his voice sounding more nasally than before.

"Yah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," Dean whispers back, a small smile tugging at his lips as he flips the light switch.

After stepping out of Jack's room, Dean takes a deep breath allowing himself a second to calm his heart before he walks into his own bedroom, finding it empty. The living room and kitchen is exactly the same as when he first got home, the lamp still dimly glowing, dirty dishes and papers still scattering the surfaces. The only difference is that the porch door had been propped open, letting the night air linger through the living room

Dean walks across the livingroom and to the porch doorway, where he leans his shoulder. An easy smile spreads across his face as he watches Cas stand over one of the many plant pots that cover their tiny porch.

With a pair of scissors in hand Cas carefully looks over the pot of Marigolds, cutting off any leaves that had begun to wither and letting them fall off the porch and onto the street below. A concentrated expression rests across Cas's features as inspects the plants, his lips pressed in a tight line and eyes narrowed, his fingers working carefully. How Cas had the patience to watch something grow, to care for something so frequently, Dean would never know.

"It's cold," Dean finally says, stepping onto the deck. Cas doesn't look up and instead picks up his watering can, tilting it over to let the water soak the marigolds. "Do you need a coat?"

"I'm fine."

"You won't be saying that when you're sick."

"I won't get sick."

"Just cause you don't get cold doesn't mean you can't get sick," Dean mumbles.

Cas looks up, the smallest smile tugging at his lips as he tilts his head to right, a small action that always brings a warmth to Dean's chest. A comforting feeling that leaves him wanting more, one more look of Cas's eyes, one more touch of his fingers that were surely frozen from the chilled wind, one more second of just being with the other.

"Dean," Cas insists in his usual gravelly, monotone voice. "I am fine."

Despite Cas's arguments Dean tugs the first sleeve of his jacket off and then the second, the evening air immediately freezing against his bare arms. "Comeon angel," Dean says, offering his jacket. "Humor me."

Cas narrows his eyes, but still takes the jacket from Dean's hand and pulls it around himself before turning back to the plants. Dean leans against the deck railing no longer trying to speak and instead watches as Cas works his way from plant to plant, trimming leaves, and drizzling them with water. He can hear the distant sound of voices in the streets below, some kind of fight that could be just heard over the ambulance sirens from a few blocks away, both noises that occur far more frequently than Dean would ever like.

Maybe it wasn't a good time to buy an engagement ring, maybe they'd be better off saving to move to a different apartment. Somewhere nicer, where kids didn't walk in the middle of the streets because it was safer than walking near the alleyways, or near parks that weren't filled with used needles and other things that had Dean caring Jack rather then letting the child walk (though honestly Dean wasn't sure if Chicago had any parks not like that). Maybe they'd be better off buying light bulbs or saving for the over the top birthday Dean knew Cas wanted Jack to have.

Saving it would be the best choice, yet Dean couldn't bring himself to not picture the ring. To not imagine how Cas's eyes would light up as Dean opened the box, he'd say yes, Dean had never been so certain of anything in his life. Cas would say yes, and then they'd kiss, holding onto one another as if it was their last moments alive.

"Do you regret anything?" Dean suddenly says, his mind spinning with too many what ifs to stop himself.

Cas pauses for a second, before he continues inspecting the small tomato plant that had just begun to sprout. "No," Cas replies, his voice steady, though Dean can hear something else in it, hesitation, maybe worry, "do you?"

"No- yah- I mean, I don't know," Dean shoves his hands into his jeans pocket, trying to warm them from the numb feeling that had quickly begun to grow. The fighting down below had stopped though the ambulance's sirens continues to blare and for a moment Dean let's that fill the silence as he tries to sort his thoughts. "I think I'd've liked to try harder at school, maybe got a degree in mechanics, something that'd make us money." He pauses, looking down to his shoes, it's easier than looking at Cas as he admits his defeats. "We could have a nicer apartment."

"I like our apartment," Cas replies.

"The neighbors suck," Dean says, "We've got the Joker and Harley Quinn on one side and a fuckin' hooker on the other."

"Meg is a respectable woman."

A smile tugs at Dean's lips. "Yah well most apartments have nice chicks."

"Dean," at the sudden softness in Cas's voice, Dean looks up, his eyes meeting the other's. Cas places his watering can down and steps forward. "Are you alright?"

"Yah." Cas gives the smallest tilt of his head, a crease forming between his eyebrows as his gaze darts down Dean. Dean pushes himself from the railing and raises his arm, lacing his fingers with Cas's. "Really, angel," Dean continues, pulling Cas into his arms, "I'm fine."

Cas wraps his arms around Dean's neck, resting his chin against Dean's shoulder. Even with the help of his jacket Cas feels frozen as Dean wraps his arms around the other's waist, Dean's fingers grazing the frozen skin from under Cas's t-shirt. "Dean," Cas says, his voice louder in the suddenly silent night. "You are allowed to talk to me."

"I'm just thinkin'" Dean replies. He holds Cas closer to his chest hoping that it will keep the other warm, and rests his chin against Cas's shoulder. "Worryin' about Jack, money, the future, that kind've crap," Dean says. "Things are just goin' to get more expensive."

"I understand your concerns," Cas replies. Dean tilts his head as the other talks, pressing a kiss to Cas's neck, followed by a second, the kiss so soft and gentle Dean's lips just ghost the frozen skin. "But Jack will be starting school soon and when that happens I'll discuss working more hours with Crowley. We will figure it out."

"I'm worried about you," Dean whispers, something which was only half true.

He was worried with every beat of his heart that he could never give Cas what he deserved. That one day Cas would realize he deserved better and walk out. Dean wasn't worried about Cas, Cas could handle himself, he was worried the day Cas would realize he was worth more.

Dean was worried that one day he would be left with nothing but a broken heart for memories, and the feeling of sorrow to wash it out.

"Dean," Cas whispers, "there's no reason to worry about me." Dean presses another kiss to Cas's neck and slowly let's his fingers travel down the other's back, tracing the curve of Cas's spine. "Please don't worry about me." The thought of arguing crosses Dean's mind but instead of trying he buries his nose into the crook of Cas's neck as Cas's grip around him tightens.

It was moments like this that left Dean holding Cas closer, clinging onto every second as if it would be his last with the other. When they were alone in the dark, only lit by the decks faded orange light, and the world around them had gone silent as if to give them one moment alone. It was simple moments like this that left Dean out of breath, and at a complete loss of words, unable to describe just how in love he was with Castiel Novak.

Slowly, humming softly, Dean removes one hand from Cas's back and laces the fingers of his right hand with Cas's left. "Here comes the sun," Dean begins barely above a whisper, swaying softly, an action Cas mimics.

"And I say," Dean sings softly, "it's alright."

"Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter," Dean continues, his voice hanging through the silent night, only broken by their footsteps as they move across the deck. "Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here." Cas's lips press lightly to Dean's neck and he replies by giving Cas's hand a gentle squeeze, it's all he can manage. Any words would ruin the moment, nothing he could say would be as gentle as them swaying, sharing one another's warmth as the wind continues to blow.

"Here comes the sun, do, do, do. Here comes the sun, and I say," Dean sings, "it's alright."

They continue to dance as the song goes on, footsteps heavy, and their swaying half a beat off. Cas's fingers are still frozen against his, and Dean's own arms had long ago become numb, and yet it's perfect.

Dean wouldn't trade it for a second of perfection. The breathless feeling leaving him light, his heart pounding constantly in his chest yet always one beat not enough. It's impossible to breathe properly when all his senses are heightened on one thing.

Cas.

By the time the song comes to an end and their slow dance has stopped, Cas's eyes were on Dean's, the normally vivid blue casted in shadows by the deck's light. Cas's hand moves from where it rests on Dean's shoulder and to his cheek, the contact so light Cas's fingers barely grazes Dean's skin. "I love you," Dean whispers, because he isn't good with words, he never has been, and that's the only thing he can think of that can even remotely describe how he feels.

"I love you too," Cas replies. He leans forwards pressing his lips to Dean's for a slow kiss that has Dean's heart somewhere between racing and stopping, tearing all the air from his lungs. When they pull away, their lips still grazing, there's only one thing Dean's sure of; he's going to marry the love of his life.

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel fic #Yesterday #Here comes the sun series #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #domestic fluff

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kaiparker-avengerssmut · 3 years

Text

CURSED: CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Accusing, Denying”

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: a new person arrives, Kai gets jealous

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death

Masterlist | series Masterlist

School was starting again, and Mack was loosing her shit. It was the first time that the reality of Ben's death had truly dawned on her.

But not in the way you'd expect - she wasn't guilty, nor was she upset. No, she was anxious and terrified about people finding out what she had done. They would notice, after all - who doesn't show up for the first day of school when every student either wants to be them or fears them? There's no logical reason as to why Ben wouldn't be there, Mack thought.

Except he's dead, she thought.

Mack took a deep breath, composing herself as she pushed open the front door, shouting a goodbye to her dad before letting the door slam shut behind her. The rumble of Kai's car engine echoed in the chilly January morning air, Mack's breath forming a little cloud before her at how cold it really was. She reached the black Jeep, wrapping her fingers around the handle and pulling the door open.

"Nice car - I see you've really done a lot to it over the Chris holidays!" Mack drawled and Kai smirked.

"Thank you for noticing! I went to this new place - I think it's called something like 'my girlfriend is a raging bitch who turns into a werewolf' or something like that." Kai smiled brightly back, sarcasm dripping from their words like syrup. Mack shook her head with a little smile, rolling her eyes as she plugged her seatbelt and dumped her bag on the floor by her feet.

"Whatever." She laughed, smiling happily against Kai's lips as he pulled her in for a languid kiss.

"Good morning." He mumbled against her lips as he pulled back, voice still slightly rasping and making a small shiver rattle its way down her spine and straight there.

"Morning." She murmured back, barely aware of Kai's amused smirk as he figured out what happened.

"I'm warning you now, Malachai Parker - this month will be one hell of a ride." Mack mused.

"And why is that, Princess?" Kai asked with a sickly sweet grin.

"I thought I told you no to call me princess." Mack deadpanned and Kai smirked.

"And I thought I told you not to call me Malachai." He shot back and Mack huffed. "So why is this month going to be one 'hell of a ride'?" Kai asked again and Mack smirked at him this time, causing one of Kai's brows to shoot up.

"I was checking dates, and it turns out - the full moon isn't the only cycle you'll have to worry about this month." Mack grinned and Kai's eyes widened, a hollow groan emitting from his plump lips.

"They're happening at the same time?" His eyes bugged and Mack nodded, smugness plastered on her face.

"Yep." She countered, popping the 'p'.

"Fucking cycles." Kai muttered under his breath, begging to pull out of Mack's drive way and making her laugh. Mack's head snapped up at the sound of rustling and she instantly rolled her eyes.

"Pork rinds? Really? It's fucking 8am!" She exclaimed as Kai popped one into his mouth, chewing nonchalantly threw a smile. "God, you are unbelievable sometimes." Mack scoffed, leaning back into her seat and listening to Kai crunching the rest of the drive to school.

...

Mack and Kai wandered to their lockers once they reached the school, Kai leant against his while Mack rummaged through hers - clearly trying to find something.

"What have you lost?" Kai asked, trying to hide his amusement as Mack nearly threw some book on the floor in frustration. She groaned, slamming her locker door shut and looking at Kai.

"My sketches! The book filled with everything I was going to use to get a scholarship!" She exclaimed, rubbing her forehead with stress. Kai stood up at this, now concerned because he knew how much she cared about going to college.

"Well maybe you took them home?" He suggested and she shook her head.

"No, I definitely left them here." She mumbled, now looking around them to see if someone had stolen the book or something. She froze when a whisper reached her ears though.

"Have you seen Ben? He hasn't contacted me since before Christmas." Someone Mack recognised to be one of Ben's friends asked another guy worriedly.

"Don't worry yourself, man. He's probably black out drunk somewhere or hanging out with some chick. Chill." The other guy responded, grabbing a book out his locker before letting it swing shut, and Mack let out a heavy sight of relic as the walked off. Then her eyes landed on something and she seethed.

Mack stormed over to the clearly obnoxious boy, fists clenched and face red as she walked over to him.

The guy was tall - nearly taller than Kai - with wisps of curly blonde hair fluttering over his forehead and the rest piled messily on top of his head like a mop of curly wool. His eyes were dark, so dark the nearly looked black (a stark contrast to Kai). But even from where she was Mack could see he was muscly, with thick arms and most likely a toned stomach, but for now he was clad in baggy jeans, a lose fitting t-shirt and a faded blue denim jacket - with pulled out and distressed seems. Overall he was the opposite of Kai, who had darker, straight hair; deep steel-blue eyes, and was quite scrawny and slim (that didn't mean he wasn't still a beast in bed). Kai also opted for leather jackets, much darker jeans, often black, not blue, and band t-shirts - AC/DC, Nirvana etc.

When she reached him Mack slammed her hand into the lock beside him, the metal door slamming shut and catching the distracted boy's attention.

"Hey, you have something mine." Mack demanded bluntly, eyes narrowed at the large sketch book clutched in his left hand. The guy looked down - following her gaze - and held the book up.

"Oh, this? I didn't know it belonged to anyone. It was only ok the floor when I found it." The guy shrugged, before leaning in. "But I'm sure we could arrange something so you could get it back." He said, almost seductively, but Mack merely snorted.

"That's won't be necessary. You're going to give me my book back and I'm going to go back over there to my boyfriend, while you piss off and find another girl to bother." Mack said with a sweet smile, pointing behind her to Kai who was still stood at their lockers, jealousy in his eyes as he watched the whole thing from afar.

"I think you should give me a kiss first, after all, I did pick up your book, rather than let it be trampled on." The guy smirked, leaning down again so that his lips her beside Mack's ear and his eyes were on Kai. "And if you're lucky maybe I'll have you screaming later." He whipped and Mack pulled back, a shiver going through her.

"Give it back." She demanded, but he held it above her head.

"Not until you give me a kiss, sweetheart." The guy chided and Mack sighed a frustrated groan. She leant up quickly on her toes, pecking the guy's lips so quickly before grabbing her book from his hand and instantly grimacing, wiping her lips and turning back to face Kai.

What she saw scared her, his nostrils flared and face red as he watched the scene before him.

"I think your boyfriend's a little jealous." The guy mused in Mack's ear, head at the side of hers as they both watched Kai slam his locker shut.

"Come with me." Mack demanded, grabbing the guy's bicep and dragging him along with her.

Mack pulled the boy into the first empty room she found, hand clasping his wrist tightly as she pushed past the tables and chairs before forcing him to sit.

"What the hell was that?" She seethed, a dangerous glint running her eyes. The boy laughed, smirking nonchalantly.

"What? I was saving you! That punk doesn't deserve an ounce of your respect, damn it!" The guy defended, raising his hands in surrender when Mack tried to hit him.

"Save me? Of for God's sake! I don't need saving, Kai isn't going to hurt me!" Mack was doing everything in her power not to rip the boy's head off.

"That's not the was Kim explained it!" He exclaimed and Mack groaned.

"So Kim sent you?" Mack seethed and the boy nodded. "Who are you? What's your name?" Mack demanded and he chuckled.

"Feisty one, you are." He mused and Mack's gaze darkened.

"What's. Your. Name?" She spat through gritted teeth.

"Shawn." He said and Mack nodded.

"Well, Shawn, you can tell my sister that I don't need watching-"

"So that you can kill another of her boyfriends? I don't think you." Shawn said and Mack rolled her eyes.

"I didnt kill anyone!"

"You and I both know that's a lie." Shawn whispered, now stood up and caging Mack against the desk, his breath fanning over her cheeks as he spoke.

"Kenz?" Kai's voice grabbed her attention and Mack's head snapped up, looking at Kai her eyes soften.

"Kai!" He slowly made his way into the room and Shawn snooped off, slipping past Kai.

"I'll leave you two alone then." He commented before Kai help up a hand.

"You're not going anywhere." Kai's eyes were burning, he looked like the epitome of rage. "And you." Kai said pointedly, looking straight into Mack's eyes, "better explain who the fuck that is, right now." He seethed, pointing at Shawn but not taking his eyes off of Mack and she glanced never pushy between them.

"He's um, a friend of Kim's..." Mack stuttered and Kai scoffed.

"Yeah, right. Who is he?!" Kai demanded, slamming his hand on the desk next to Mack and making her jump.

"No one!" She yelled and Kai's nostrils flared, his face red.

"Oh really." He replied bluntly and Mack looked at him in shock.

"Yes really! If you have a problem, then tell me!" She dared and kai stared her down, his gaze flitting to Shawn momentarily.

"I'd better not keep you, your boyfriend's waiting." Kai spat, a dark glare overcoming him as he glanced at Shawn, who was loitering awkwardly in the door way, not really sure what to do. Mack followed his gaze for scoffing.

"He's not my boyfriend! I hate him!" Mack claimed and Kai looked away, rolling his eyes.

"Whatever." Kai dismissed.

"Kai!" Mack exclaimed.

"What?" He shot back dryly.

"Stop!" She shouted as he began to walk towards the door, ready to shoulder past Shawn.

"Why?" He bit back, pausing but not turning to face her.

"Because I love you, you idiot!" Mack's words made Kai's jaw clench, his eyes cloud with anger as he looked from Shawn and back to Mack again.

"Maybe you should've thought of that before you got yourself a little lap-dog, huh?" Kai sneered before pushing past Shawn and put into the throws of students busily shuffling through the crowed halls, disappearing into the mass of people.

Mack set her jaw, tears staining her eyes and she looked over a Shawn. A dark look was in her eyes as she walked past him, too.

"Mack, wait!" He called after her but the girl was already gone.

...

Mack's fingers drummed against the tabled restlessly, head turned away from Kai who sat beside her. He would huff every thirty seconds, shorting her a dirty glance before looking away again.

The door opening made Mack sit up straight in her chair, as nothing interesting ever happened in this class. Normally her and Kai would entertain each other but as the boy refused to speak to Mack, it was proving a very dull lesson.

Three men in uniform strode in, guns in the belts at their hips and walkie-talkies strapped over their chests. "POLICE" was written in white over their backs and the word made everyone switch on, murmurs and whispers floating around the room like a wave. Mack noticed Kai straighten up at this too, Mack's stomach dropping as she tried to swallow the guilt.

The tallest of the three men cleared his throat, turning to face the class while his two colleagues spoke quietly to their teacher.

"Hello, students. I am Officer Moore," he spoke authoritatively, "and today I am here to tell you something that may be...shocking." There were whispers floating about. "So," he said a little louder - grabbing the students' attention, "if you all quiet down, we'll get to business."

Mack's leg was bouncing furiously under the table, hand clenched into a tight fist and she bit her lips to stop herself letting out a sharp gasp at the pain of her nails digging into her sweaty palm. Kai reached out for her hand, uncurling it and holding it tight in his own, clearly not bothered about the little crescent-shaped cuts that were now leaking blood. The gesture calmed Mack, and she soon settled, the feeling of Kai's skin on hers comforting.

"We are here to tell you that Ben McCoy," he paused, murmurs erupting around the room at the mention of Ben, "has been declared a missing person."

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7-wonders · 5 years

Note

How about Xavier and the reader smoking (weed) in his van and y’all just start making out? (It can lead into whatever you want lol)

Let’s try this again!

To many, the van parked in the back corner of the aerobics studio parking lot would barely warrant a second glance. If somebody were to look again, it was often to chuckle at the license plate proclaiming the van the “Vanta-C,” or to wrinkle their nose in disgust at such a junky old van. It was inconspicuous in all the right ways, which is what made the Vanta-C the perfect place to unwind after class…and sometimes before class.

Xavier, you have to admit, has some of the best weed you’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Luckily for you (and everybody Xavier’s friends with), Xavier believes in sharing his stash, claiming that smoking alone is too depressing for him. At least once a week, some variety of your friend group will pile into Xavier’s van, listen to music, and share a couple of joints. It’s a fun time no matter who’s there with you, but your favorite days are when it’s just you and Xavier in his van.

You’re sitting in the back of Xavier’s van, leaning against the cool seat and allowing the air conditioning to cool you down after a heavy aerobics class. A joint lies beside you, unlit, as you flip through Xavier’s extensive collection of cassette tapes. The man in question leans over the center console, switching out one tape in his cassette player for another. He’s mumbling under his breath as he stretches his lithe arm towards the play button, finally hitting it and starting the tape.

The familiar sounds of Journey’s classic synth music fill the air, and you eagerly bob your head to the rhythm as Xavier sits down opposite you. “Finally, some good music,” you note approvingly.

“What, you don’t like the regular music we play?” He holds out his hand for the joint, striking a lighter and expertly getting it started as he takes a few quick puffs.

“Correction: I don’t like Ray’s music.” You gratefully accept the joint, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs and watching as it filters above you in delicate shapes. “His idea of a mixtape is just different George Michael songs, and I’m pretty sure I’ll end up cutting my ears off if I have to listen to ‘Faith’ one more time.”

“What do you have against George Michael?” Xavier asks jokingly, watching with hooded blue eyes as you take another hit and hold the smoke deep in your lungs before exhaling through your nose: a trick you had learned from Xavier himself.

“‘Dunno, probably the stupid earring,” you tease, flicking Xavier’s cross earring that’s a direct imitation of George Michael’s.

Xavier whistles lowly, stealing the joint from you and holding it between his slender fingers. “Harsh, (Y/N). I share my stash with you and make you a mixtape, and this is how you repay me?”

“You made me a mix? Is that,“ you point to the speakers at the front of the van, “what this is? My very own mixtape?” You’re laying the teasing on pretty thick, but you can’t help it when you know it makes Xavier’s cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink.

Lately, things have been different between you and Xavier. Not in a bad way, but just in an unexpected way. Ever since the night last winter where you had found him throwing up in some dingy bathroom at a house party, unknown troubles that you didn’t both to ask about sending him straight into the arms of alcohol poisoning, your dynamic had changed.

Suddenly, he wasn’t just Montana’s cocky ex who you only tolerated because all of your other friends adored him. He’s funny, and introspective, and a lot smarter than you originally gave him credit for. You can talk with him for hours about almost anything, although your conversations usually deviated towards music and pop culture. He understood you on a different level than any of your other friends.

He’s also devastatingly handsome, which doesn’t help the small crush you’ve developed on him.

“It’s nothing, really,” Xavier shrugs nonchalantly. “You have a really good taste in music, and I wanted to make something for you to listen to.”

“Thanks, Xav.” You’re touched by this unexpected display of friendship, the man in front of you not really known for doing nice things for people.

Xavier fidgets with his earring before thrusting the joint in your direction, not quite sure what to say to fill the silence. “Here, it’s your turn.”

You both fall quiet as you listen to the music and pass the joint back and forth, your movements getting slower and more languid as the drug begins to take effect. You can feel your veins thrumming with the relaxing heat that begins to spread through you, watching Xavier through the hazy smoke that fills the van.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask quietly, leaning your head back against the side of Xavier’s van.

What Xavier wants to say is that he’s thinking about the way your eyelashes flutter as you try to follow the smoke with your eyes, or how pretty your lips look wrapped around the rolled-up paper. Instead, he plays it safe. “Mmm, just life. Plans for the summer.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes is nearly swallowed whole by his blown-out pupils, giggling at how freaked-out his dilated eyes make him look. Staring at the smooth planes of his face as your fingers tap out the beat to an AC/DC song, an idea starts to form in your mind. Normally, if you weren’t high, you’d never even consider what you’re thinking. Being high, however, silences the part of your brain that reminds you how disastrous your ideas can be.

Flipping the joint so the cherry faces you, you slowly place it between Xavier’s full lips, smirking lazily when his breath hitches at the contact. His eyes are glued to your hand, watching as your fingers linger against the soft skin of his lips. Breathing in deeply, he makes a move of his own when the warm smoke escapes his mouth as he blows it in your face. You stifle a cough, looking away like you didn’t just try to come onto Xavier.

Across from you, Xavier is internally freaking out. Was that unintentional, or were you trying to seduce him like he hopes you were? For his sake, he really hopes that you were attempting to make a move on him.

“Can I try something?” Xavier asks suddenly, making you look down from the ceiling.

“Sure?” Your eyes are pleading with him for answers, but he refuses to budge.

Xavier takes a couple of deep breaths from the joint, filling his lungs with as much smoke as possible. Winking at you, he shuffles forward and places his hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

There’s hardly a moment’s hesitation as you eagerly reciprocate the kiss. The smoke travels from Xavier to you as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, giving you no choice but to breathe it in. Your hands, desperate to grab onto something, tangle in Xavier’s beautiful hair. He doesn’t even complain about you messing up his precious locks, instead setting down the joint on a stray ashtray so it doesn’t set the van on fire and wrapping his other hand around your waist so he can lay you down against the floor.

Your back meets with the carpet of his van, and you stare at Xavier through the hazy air in ecstasy as he slides your shirt off of your body. Rolling his hips against yours, you can feel his sizable bulge already through his shorts.

Xavier’s hands, large and veiny, pull your bra down your chest to expose your breasts. “I fuckin’ knew your tits would be gorgeous, even when you’re wearing your workout clothes I just knew.”

He continues to kiss you as his hands explore your body, moaning his approval as your hands start to mimic his actions. His lean body fits perfectly against yours, and you take your time to explore each and every curve of his muscles as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and pulls slightly.

You need more, crave more, and you begin thrusting your legging-clad hips against him to the heavy, slow beat of the song booming from the speakers.

“Fuck, Xav,” you pant from under him, kissing him again. “I want you.”

“Yeah? Tell me what you want.”

“Want,” you pause to moan when he begins to suck a hickey against your neck, “want you to fuck me.”

Xavier nods, lifting away from you to allow you to sit up on your elbows so he can unclip your bra. He winks at you as he seems to move in slow motion, kissing you once more and humming along to “Still Loving You.”

“It’s a good thing you like The Scorpions, ‘cause this is a perfect sex song.”

“Actually, there’s no ‘the’ before Scorpions. A lot of people think there is, but the band is just Scorpions.” The words escape before you can even think to stop them, your eyes widening in embarrassment.

“Fuck, it’s so hot that you know random shit like that,” Xavier leans down to kiss you again, fingers playing with the waist of your leggings.

You’re both so wrapped up in each other, the weed and the euphoria of the situation making it almost impossible to focus on anything else, that neither of you notice the door to the van sliding open until an excited squeal has both of you scrambling away from each other. The sunlight filtering in does nothing to reveal who’s standing in front of you at first, the two silhouettes taking a moment to become a smug Montana and an embarrassed Chet. Xavier covers you with his body, but you still grab your shirt and hold it in front of your chest for some semblance of modesty.

“I’m so sorry, guys, I just needed to pick up my gym bag?” Xavier’s eyes flicker to where Chet is pointing, seeing the red, white, and blue gym bag that Chet had asked to stash in the van prior to class. Xavier nods slowly, avoiding eye contact with everybody as he pushes the bag with his foot, allowing Chet to snatch it up.

“Well, I guess we’ll let you two horny lovebirds get back to it,” Montana says gleefully.

“‘Tana,” you whine, pleading with her to stop as you wish for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Alright, alright.” She holds up her hands disarmingly, grabbing at the handle of the door and winking at you as she starts to close it. “Wrap it before you tap it, babes!” Montana shouts before the door closes.

Xavier’s only able to mutter a stunned “oh my God” as he stares at the space where his friends occupied only moments ago. Turning to you to make sure you’re okay, he’s momentarily concerned when he finds you with your head in your hands and your shoulders shaking. When he hears your near-hysteric laughter, he can’t help but smile.

“What the fuck just happened?” you gasp out between peals of laughter, tears nearly streaming from your face as you begin to put your bra back on: a sight that makes Xavier worry.

“Y’know, we don’t have to stop just because of a little interruption,” Xavier trails off, placing his hand on yours in an attempt to get things back on track.

“How did that not kill the mood for you?” you chuckle, pushing his hand away and sliding your shirt over your head. “Aw, don’t look so sad! There’ll be another chance for you to score, I’m sure.”

Xavier sighs, picking up the joint and sadly taking a hit. “Fuckin’ Montana.”

Quick Tag List: @ccodyfern @1-800-bitchcraft @divinelangdon @lvngdvns @wroteclassicaly @tcc-gizmachine @xavierplympton @michaelsapostle

#xavier plympton #xavier plympton imagine #xavier plympton x reader #ahs 1984 #ahs 1984 imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story: 1984 #ahs imagine

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (4) Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

A/N: So this is the longest chapter I’ve written for this so far! And it’s one of my favorites. Also my mom surprised me with a Nintendo Switch to make up for the fact that I haven’t been allowed to leave the house since March so I’m hoping to get another chapter of this out this weekend but there’s also Animal Crossing now so.......... As always let me know your thoughts on this or if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter!

Word Count: 8346

Warnings: Mention of drug and alcohol abuse, swearing I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Tony’s voice is painted with the smile he wears as Pepper walks into the living room.

“You saw me two days ago.”

“Two days too long.” He says before kissing her cheek. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“That’s because this is just a stop. I’m not staying. I’m picking up Y/N.”

“You’re taking Y/N…?” He trails off in confusion.

“We’re going to get mani/pedis, do some back to school clothes shopping, and maybe get dinner. I want to get to know your daughter better.”

“She seems fine with hanging out with everyone except me.” Tony says dejectedly.

“You’re an acquired taste.” Pepper teases before placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Give her time. She hasn’t had even a week of having a father yet.”

“What time will you be back?” He asks, already knowing that he’ll have to fill his afternoon by himself.

“Six or seven maybe?” Tony glances at the Stark Phone that he’s actually started carrying with him now that it’s more personal. Natasha had snapped a picture of Y/N at, apparently, your favorite place in the whole city, which looks like a big book store. You’re not even looking at the camera, you’re carrying a ton of books and yet reaching for another one, but you’re smiling which is more than he can say for the past few days. When Natasha sent it to him, he immediately made it his background and lock screen. It may not have been a week, but you’re definitely becoming his world. “I’m going to see if she’s ready to go.”

You take one last look in the mirror, trying to decide if this is the outfit you want to be seen out in the world with famous Pepper Potts. Maybe you should change and dress up, but you’d rather be comfortable if you’re being honest. So instead of a dress or a romper, you’re in a pair of ripped denim shorts, a Rolling Stones t-shirt that you found at a thrift store a few months ago for so cheap but it’s in such good condition, and tie dyed high tops. You had thrown your hair into a ponytail with a red scrunchy only because the humidity was too much today. There’s a knock on the door. “Come in.” Jerk It Out by Caesars is playing over JARVIS, but he turns it down as Pepper walks into your room. You are in the middle of putting on the heart shaped pendant that Nana had given you for your thirteenth birthday as Pepper stands across your room.

“You ready to head out?” You glance back at the mirror once more time as you see Pepper in a red cocktail length dress.

“Do I need to dress up?” You ask, suddenly worried that your shorts and t-shirt won’t cut it in Pepper’s world.

“Honestly no. I probably should change. I came from a business lunch at this overly posh restaurant. If you’re good waiting like five minutes, I’ll go change.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” You grab a bag from your pile of bags, throw your wallet, a testing kit and then wander down to the kitchen to grab some low snacks.

“Rolling Stones?” Tony asks in mock surprise. “Couldn’t wear something like AC/DC or Black Sabbath? Have some taste if you’re really my daughter.”

“If you’re having doubts, I’ll go home to Nana and Pops.” You say as you throw the applesauce pouches in your purse.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ll forgive your subpar music taste, but we’ll get working on music education soon.” You just roll your eyes. You weren’t going to admit to him that you already listen to AC/DC a good chunk of the time and when in the right mood you listened to Black Sabbath.

“Y/N Miss Potts wants to know if you want her to grab you a pair of sandals for your pedicure.” JARVIS asks.

“I’ll grab a pair.” Turning to make your way back up the stairs, you walk back into your room. Grabbing the first pair of sandals you see. As you walk out your door, you see Pepper walking towards you in a loose white top, denim shorts, and a pair of sandals. “That’s the most laid back I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“That’s because you see me coming from SI most of the time and I have to dress up for that. But we’re going for comfy and casual now.” She smiles at you. “Did your dad see your shirt?”

“And give me crap for my subpar music taste? Yeah.”

“I had a feeling he might.”

“That’s why he’s not invited.” Pepper laughs.

“It’s not because we’re going shopping and for mani/pedis which he would be miserable at anyway?”

“That too. But still, if he hates on the Stones, he’s not invited.” Pepper lets out another laugh as the two of you walk back into the kitchen.

“What joke did I miss out on this time?” Tony asks.

“You had to be there.” You say instead of explaining.

“It’s nothing.” Pepper says, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“I can’t tell if you’re corrupting her or the other way around.” Tony says as the two of you walk towards the elevator. “Maybe I should come along for supervision.”

“Bye Tony.” Pepper says, rolling her eyes before telling JARVIS to take them down to the garage. “So where do you normally go for back to school shopping?”

“Well we never had a ton of money, so Nana and I usually hit up the thrift stores. But I find great deals like this,” You motion to your shirt. “Four bucks and it’s basically brand new. Well as brand new as an old shirt can be.”

“Where are your favorite shops?”

“We’d go to Buffalo Exchange if we were looking for more like dresses and stuff. Like that one I wore to dinner I got at the Buffalo Exchange on the lower East Side. But there’s also a handful of good mom and pop thrift shops in Queens and Brooklyn if you’d rather head over that way. Bayside Thrift Shop is a good one in Queens or there’s Out of the Closet in Brooklyn.”

“Which one do you have better luck at?” Pepper asks as they walk to where Happy is waiting for them.

“I’ve always had great luck at Bayside.”

“So lets start there and then we can head to Buffalo Exchange before mani/pedis.” Pepper suggests.

“Where are we heading?” Happy asks as you and Pepper slide into the backseat.

“Bayside Thrift Shop in Queens.” Pepper turns to you. “Want to put some music on while we drive over?”

“Really?”

“Nothing you put on can be worse than what Tony puts on when he’s in a bad mood.” She says with a smile.

“Um ok. JARVIS can you play my June playlist?” You ask before he can list that you have a playlist called Tony Stark Can Rot. For some reason you feel like she wouldn’t like that as much.

“Certainly Y/N.” The first notes of Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses start to play and you relax into the seat. If you had headphones in, it would feel like all the times that you, Betty, and Astrid had gone between Queens and the main island during the summer. The biggest difference was you weren’t crammed into the humid subway car and sitting to your right was your dad’s girlfriend, who was the farthest from the evil stepmother character from the thousands of books you read growing up. In fact, she is sweet and kind, someone you could find yourself loving easily.

You turn your head towards the window and focus on the passing sights of NYC as you head towards the area you had lived your whole life. You could point out the hospital you had been born at if you turned down the right streets. If you went up a few blocks you would pass your elementary school, your middle school, and the school you’d be starting at in a little over a week. Your whole life up until a few days ago centered on this area of New York. That bodega was the first one you had been able to run to on your own and that’s the street you take to go the back way to Betty’s old apartment. “Missing home?” Pepper asks, seeing you staring out the window with longing.

“This place is all I knew for the longest time. I spent more time in Queens than I did in Manhattan.” You say with a shrug, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but you miss home.

“You’ve gone through a lot this week. It’s ok to miss it.” Pepper’s hand rests on yours and gives it a little squeeze. “Queens can always be home, even if you’re living in Midtown.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever give Queens up.”

“Even when I’m in Malibu, I miss New York like crazy. It’s definitely home.” You listen to what Pepper’s saying as Happy turns the familiar path to head towards your favorite thrift store. He pulls into a lot across the way from the thrift store before getting out to open the door for you and Pepper. “Now, will you show me your favorite thrift shop?” Pepper asks.

“Easily. This place is meant to be shared.” You can’t help but smile as the three of you cross the street.

“What do you like the best about Bayside?”

“They tend to have a lot of graphic tees. Both of like the band variety but also just like sassy variety. And I could live in tees if I didn’t have to wear other clothes sometimes.” You admit as you open the door and hear the familiar chime. You see Anita at the counter as you walk in.

“Y/N! We thought we were going to miss you for back to school shopping.”

“Never! I have to come to Bayside.” You say, being completely honest.

“Where’s your Nana?”

“I brought my… Pepper this time.” You say motioning to your dad’s girlfriend, but not knowing how to introduce her.

“Well any friend of Y/N is a friend of ours. We thought you might be coming by, so I set a few things aside that you might be interested in.” Anita reaches behind the counter and pulls a stack of about four t-shirts out. Pepper watches as your face lights up. “We just got them in.” You lift the top couple up to look at the bottom couple.

“These are awesome!” The black and grey shirts look similar to things that Tony would wear, but Pepper keeps that to herself.

“I’ve got them. You keep looking.” Happy says as he takes the shirts from your hands.

“Happy, I can carry them-”

“It’s clothes, they’re not heavy. I’ve got it.”

“Thank you Happy.” Pepper trails a couple steps behind you as you finger through the shirts handing. The first to get pulled off the rack is a Nirvana shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. Then a blue tie dyed Pink Floyd 1973 tour shirt follows it.

“That’s one your dad can’t even try to say he was at. Three year olds weren’t allowed.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile at Pepper’s comment. You find another more classic looking Pink Floyd shirt hanging on the rack a few shirts back that you add to your pile.

“If I had been wearing that would he have said I had better music choices?”

“Probably. He’s just judgmental when it comes to music.”

“The Stones are classics!” You argue as your hands run through the racks to fall on a Sweet Child O’ Mine Shirt. “Oh this one is a winner.” It has a faded look to it and you love that in your shirts.

“Definitely so.” Pepper takes it from the rack and hands it to Happy. “To be fair to all your tastes, I think this one is needed though,” she says pulling another Rolling Stones shirt from the rack and you smile at it.

“They are my favorite.”

“Tony would die if he heard that.” You shrug. “Wanna try these on?” Pepper motions towards the pile that Happy is holding.

“Sure.” But then an Eagles Hotel California Tour 1977 shirt catches your eye. “One more for the road.” You say before snagging the shirt. You try on the shirts you had found before getting to the stack that Anita had put aside for you. You look at the four finally. The first was a grey Pink Floyd 1972 Carnegie Hall T-shirt?! Holy shit! Your mind might explode. Then there’s a black Aerosmith shirt with a boombox with wings that says ‘Let the Music Do The Talking’ which is such a big mood. Underneath that one there’s a black Nirvana Unplugged in NYC shirt which you have been looking for forever since you love that album. And last but not least there’s a classic looking Guns N’ Roses printed on black shirt in a gold font. Anita knows you well. Four of your favorite bands and to be honest four of your new favorite shirts. So far all of the shirts fit pretty well, or even fall on the large side which is how you like your t-shirts.

Pepper knocks on the fitting room door. “I found a couple things I think you’d like Y/N.” You open the door wearing the Guns N’ Roses shirt. “Oh I like that one.”

“Really?” You’re surprised that Pepper would be into band shirts.

“You think I could date your father and not be into what he considers some of the greatest musicians of our time?” Pepper smiles at you. “But also gold is just a good color for you and your skin tone.”

“I’m not going to be Iron Man at any point.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be. However I did grab these shirts because I think your dad’s reactions will be worth it.” You look at them and laugh.

“He’ll never let me leave the tower wearing them.”

“So wear them around the tower to bug him.” You close the door and try on the two shirts. The first is a tank top that you probably never would have looked at had all of this not happened. But Pepper was right. Tony would react to it, hopefully. Across the black fabric printed in white the shirt reads ‘I’m A Female’. Then in pink it reads ‘Fe = Iron, Male = Man” before finishing in white ‘Therefore I Am Iron Man’. You open the door to show Pepper.

“If I walked into the kitchen one day wearing this telling him I was going on a run, how much of a heart attack would I give him?” Pepper doesn’t have a chance to answer before Happy does.

“He will lock you in the tower. And possibly never let you leave.” Happy states, knowing how protective Tony is even after only knowing this kid for a few days.

“Worth it.” You and Pepper say with a teasing grin.

“Can I take a picture? That might be my favorite shirt so far.” Pepper asks. You nod and then, shocking even yourself, you throw your hand out in the standard Iron Man pose and Pepper snaps the photo. “I love it.” You smile and turn back into the dressing room before the flush takes over your face at the affection from your dad’s girlfriend. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts that want to invade your mind out of your head as you lift the last shirt up to change into it.

This one is grey and in white letters say ‘Screw Your “Lab Safety” I Want Superpowers”. Your dad was going to hate it for sure, knowing so many scientifically modified people. But you love it. Plus it’s so comfy. You roll the sleeves a bit and then open the door to show Pepper and Happy.

“He’s going to hate that one as well.” Happy says the moment he sees it.

“Or he’ll laugh and say show it to Steve.” Pepper says, cocking her head to one side. “Either way, we’re getting it.” In your head you know you shouldn’t buy all the shirts that you tried on, but even if you let Pepper pay for the two that she found, the remaining ones should only come up to about thirty dollars, and you think you have that much in your wallet. You collect all the clothes in the dressing room, which Happy immediately takes from you, and you follow Pepper and him towards check out when your eyes fall on the most beautiful jean jacket you’ve ever seen.

It was a medium wash jacket, that had been loved just enough that it was no longer stiff. It had some wear and tear in some spots, but it was loose enough that it would sit perfectly on you. You have to try it on. Pepper sees you debating about the jacket, but can’t figure out why you’re debating. “It’s a gorgeous jacket. Try it on.” You take it off the hanger, gently as if it was a child instead of a jacket, and slip it over your shoulders. Rolling the cuffs up a couple times so it didn’t hang over your hands you look down at the jacket, loving that it hits an inch or two below where your shorts do. “Now that is how a jean jacket should fit.” Pepper says, smiling that you found something you clearly loved on this trip. You slide it off your shoulders and the price catches your eyes. Yes, thrifting can be great, but the jacket is still fifty dollars even at the thrift store. You don’t have that much.

“I don’t need it.” You say, not wanting to bring up that you can’t afford it even if you did need it.

“I’m not taking no for an answer on that. A jacket that looks that perfect on you has to come home with you.” She places her hands gently on it and lifts it from your hands.

“Pepper, really I don’t-”

“Tony can afford it and it needs a good home.” Then it hits you, Pepper’s not going to make- no let you pay for any of this.

“You found many things today.” Anita says looking at the pile Happy and Pepper had made on the counter. “This is going to look the best on you.” She places a hand on the jacket that Pepper had added.

“She pulls it off like no one else.” Pepper agrees. Anita and Pepper chat about the weather and honestly you’re not sure what else because you just watch as the number climbs. You’ve been coming here for years and never seen the number go that high. Your heart falls into your gut when the jacket gets added. Looking in your purse, you know you have about forty dollars to your name and that wouldn’t cover even half of that right now. But Pepper hands over a black card, similar to the one that Natasha used the other day, and doesn’t even stop the conversation. It’s like this money thing doesn’t even bother her. But it definitely bothers you. Anita puts the clothes into a cloth bag and hands it to you.

“Thanks Anita.” You smile at her, but you don’t know when you’ll be back. All you’ll remember now is feeling uncomfortable for spending Tony’s money here. Happy opens the door and you follow Pepper out of the shop. Pepper is trying to make small talk but notices you looking nowhere but the ground. She takes the bag from you and hands it to Happy.

“Can you put this in the car?”

“But-”

“Five minutes?” She says. And technically, Pepper is his boss, so Happy nods.

“I’ll be right across the street.” She smiles as he walks across the street.

“So wanna talk about it?” She asks, bumping shoulders with you.

“Talk about what?”

“Why the ground is so interesting?” Pepper takes a pause trying to give you a chance to speak. “Or maybe about why you went so quiet in one of your favorite places?” Normally, you’d just keep it to yourself but for some reason, you don’t think Pepper will judge you.

“We, uh didn’t have a ton of money growing up. Whatever money we did have went to making sure we could afford rent and my insulin and making sure that there was food on the table. So once I was about eleven, some of the other people in our building would let me run errands for them or watch their younger kids and they would pay me some pocket money for doing it. And that pocket money I saved in a jar throughout the year so that once I could go back to school shopping and twice a year I could buy Nana and Pops something nice from Christmas and their birthdays. We didn’t really celebrate many holidays, but the ones we did we celebrated really small. Santa would bring me clothes while my friends would get touchpads and toys and I didn’t question it because I knew that while their families didn’t have to worry about whether or not you were going to have to choose between buying medicine you needed to live or putting food on the table.

But Nana and Pops tried to make it so I didn’t feel that. So when I got the chance to go to The Strand or Bayside, it wasn’t picking everything that caught your eye because I was the one paying for it. So I would buy one or two books or shirts because I couldn’t afford to spend all that money if I wanted to buy Christmas presents too.” You play with Queenie’s tubing, not wanting to look Pepper in the eyes as you continue. “But in the past three days, Natasha, Tony, you, whoever, have made it clear that Tony’s made of money and that he’s fine with spending it on books, phones, clothes, whatever he or anyone else wants. But there are people out there that aren’t that fortunate.

The money that Natasha spent buying me books the other day could have paid for my Nana’s medicine for a month. Or how much you just spent on clothing for me could have bought me clothing for the whole school year and bought Nana and Pops Christmas presents. Hell I looked up how much my new phone cost Tony and it could have paid for four months of insulin. That’s sixteen vials. But more importantly that’s nearly 1500 dollars. And I bet if I lost it, he would have a new one waiting for me.” Pepper lets you continue the rant, and doesn’t let you know that he added more upgrades to your phone than the baseline one that does indeed cost as much as your medicine does. But what she would rather talk about is why does your insulin cost that much? “You guys might not care about money, but it makes me sick every time that you drop this money on me. I’m not worth it.”

“First of all, you are definitely worth it and so much more. Tony has money just wasting away in the bank and likes to waste it on the people he loves. That means he’s going to drop money on you. But coming from the lifestyle you grew up in, it’s going to take some getting used to. Plus in his mind, he has fourteen years of Christmas presents and birthdays to make up for.” Pepper watches as your eyes go wide and knows that this might be the wrong thing to say. “But Tony is also up for doing things for charity. So maybe you can come up with an initiative that he can throw money towards for you. Like maybe fighting to lower the cost of insulin for others? Because while it’s not a problem now for you to afford it, why should it cost so much for others? Tony would definitely like to fight that. And that is something that SI can also get behind as well.” You look up for the first time since finding the jean jacket back in the shop.

“Really? SI would get behind something like that?” You ask, not understanding why a tech company would get behind something like the cost of insulin.

“Tony wants to look into manufacturing things to make diabetics' lives easier, which I told him he needs to talk to you about before doing anything. But your name is part of the company. You’re a Stark now. So anything that SI does, takes an interest in what you have an interest in. So yes, the cost of insulin is something that SI will fight for too. Help me do some research on who to support and we can start the battle as one of your first introductions to the world as Tony’s daughter?” You nod, knowing this is something you’ve always wanted to help with but never had the power to do anything about.

“Thank you.” You say, before doing something without thinking- you throw your arms around her. Her arms wrap around you, but she’s not sure what she’s being thanked for.

“What for?”

“Listening. Being here. Being human?” You say, joking about the last one, but it feels right.

“Of course. I don’t know how to be anything else.” She says and pulls on your ponytail a bit. “Now you want to show us around your neighborhood a bit before we head back to Manhattan?”

“You want to see it?” You ask, surprised that Pepper wants to see Queens.

“It’s part of what makes you you, so yes.” Happy finishes crossing the street to be back with the two of you.

“There’s a really great coffee shop up this way. Or if we go down this way there’s an amazing sandwich shop called Delmar’s. Oh and Pops goes to play chess at this park down that way.” You point out three different ways.

“Coffee sounds like a plan.” Pepper says. You drop your arms, not wanting to hold on to her longer than you’re allowed to but Pepper keeps an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the coffee shop you love. It was always a treat when you got to go, but the smell alone was something you had missed. They make all their syrups from scratch and you could spend all day there reading if you were allowed.

As you walk, you point out the book shop where you sold the books you were done with to make some extra money, the apartment building that you, Nana, and Pops lived until there was a rat infestation, and the bodega that you used to go to to stock up on low supplies. You wave to some people that you know by face alone and smile at the feeling of being home. It feels nice to share this world with Pepper, and almost makes you wish Tony was here to show him what home feels like to you. It’s not throwing money around on things you don’t need. It’s the feeling of the sun on your skin as you walk around the streets you’ve known all your life.

At the coffee shop, Pepper buys you and Happy coffee, yours iced and his hot, as well as an iced tea for herself. “So I was thinking, we could go to Buffalo Exchange to try and find you some bottoms to go with the shirts we found for you, or maybe a dress or two? That way you have some clothes until the rest of your stuff gets moved from Queens?” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. You only have a few more sets of outfits and half of them aren’t appropriate for school. You force yourself to take a sip of your coffee as you nod your head. “We don’t have to Y/N. We can hold off.”

“No, we should. I don’t have that much stuff left at the tower and some of it is more wear at home type stuff.”

“Do you want to make a stop at your Nana and Pops house and get some more stuff?” Pepper asks.

“Can I?” You miss your Nana and Pops so much it hurts.

“Of course. Tony isn’t trying to keep you from them. And we’re already in the area.” You can’t stop the grin from exploding on your face. You know that Nana and Pops won’t have much more baggage you can put stuff in though so you turn to Marcie, who’s working at the counter.

“Hey Marcie, do you guys have any boxes that you haven’t broken down yet?”

“Actually yeah. We got shipments in this morning of some stuff. What size are you looking for?”

“Big enough to put some clothes and stuff in.”

“Ah moving apartments again?” Marcie had helped you with boxes when the rat situation happened. “Rats again?”

“Not rats, but something like that.” You say with a teasing smile. She walks to the back and grabs the couple bigger ones.

“Will these work?”

“Those are perfect!”

“You can have them on the condition that you still come and get coffee occasionally.”

“Deal! I’m going to go to MSST so I’ll still come by!”

“Then the boxes are all yours.” She hands them to you and Happy offers to take them from you. Marcie looks at him with confusion but you wave it off.

“Thanks Marcie!” You say before returning to the table where Pepper sits.

“I’ll bring the car up,” Happy says. “Be back in five minutes.”

“Thanks Happy.” Pepper says as Happy takes the boxes with him as he leaves the shop.

“You seem to know all the people at your favorite shops.” Pepper comments.

“New York is more like a small town when you think about it. We all go to the same businesses over and over again. Why shouldn’t we know the people who’s shops we frequent?” You shrug. “Plus Marcie is the best person to get boxes from when you have to move buildings. Then you don’t have to pay for them.” Pepper and you both drink your cold beverages as you sit waiting for Happy.

“Have you ever traveled anywhere?” Pepper asks, wanting to get to know you better. You shake your head.

“I’ve uh never left New York. We never really had the money.” You glance out the window. “I don’t even have a state ID, much less a passport.”

“Well we can get you an ID sweetheart, that’s easy. And knowing your dad, he’ll want to get you a passport since deciding to take last minute trips is one of his favorite things. But if you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?”

“You’re not going to like plan a trip, right? Because you’ve spent plenty-”

“Y/N, I just want to get to know you. Now if Tony asks you, I would answer on the bet that he wants to take you wherever you answer.”

“The kid in me wants to say Disney World because who doesn’t want to go. But I think the actual answer would be the Grand Canyon. I’ve always wanted to see if it’s as big as it looks in pictures. And the third choice would be London. So many writers lived there and I want to see what inspires them to write the way they do.” You look back at your coffee. “I’m not the best at picking just one place.”

“Never said you had too.” Pepper says, trying to catch your eyes. “I think all three are wonderful ideas. Maybe we should go there, but leave Tony at home to finish the deadlines he never touches.” You look up at her with surprised eyes. “Ok, maybe he can finish them before the trips and then come along because if I steal his kid for that long, I’ll never hear the end of it. He might take my job away for stealing you for that long, if it didn’t mean he would have to start doing work again.”

“Really?”

“You’re all he talks about these days. And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. He’s not someone that’s easy to get to know. And I would say he’s definitely an acquired taste, but once he’s in your corner, having Tony Stark have your back is sometimes greater than having Iron Man. I hope you get to learn that. Because I know he desperately wants to show you how much he already loves you.”

“But he barely knows me.”

“There’s this thing about being a parent, so I’ve heard, where you love your kid so much from the moment they enter your life. That’s how he feels, and how he’s felt about you since the moment he saw you for the first time. Every night since you entered his life he said to me ‘God Pep, I didn’t know I could love a kid so much.’ And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.”

“But I’ve kind of treated him like garbage?”

“And you think you’re the first teenager to ever say things to their parents like that? You have a better excuse than most though. Most aren’t thrust into having parents as late into life as you were, but you’re dealing with a lot. Most people also aren’t dealing with having Tony as a father. I give you props for that alone.”

“You’re the one dating him.”

“Yes but that’s different.” Happy pulls up outside the coffee shop. “Come on. We have all the time in the world to debate who has it worse in regards to Tony.” Pepper teases you. You turn and wave to Marcie.

“Bye Marcie!”

“Good luck with the move!” She waves before returning to the order she’s in the middle of taking. You follow Pepper towards the car and climb into the backseat. Happy drives you towards the apartment he had taken-picked you up from less than a week from.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I stay in the car?” Pepper asks as you pull up and Happy puts the car in park. If it was Tony, yes. But you like Pepper. You want her to see the place that you think of as home so you shake your head.

“Plus I want you to meet my Nana and Pops.” You swing the door open before Happy even has a chance to open the door for you. You’re too excited to see Nana and Pops. Usually you would just run up the six flights of stairs to the apartment, but you’re not going to subject Pepper and Happy to that just because you don’t want to wait for the slow elevator. So instead you bounce on the balls of your feet as you wait for the elevator. If not for your fear of elevators dropping, you would have continued bouncing the rest of the way up. But finally, finally, the elevator arrives and you count the three doors as you pass towards home. It’s weird to not have your key so you knock on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You hear your Pops voice and you could almost cry. He opens the door and you don’t wait a moment before flying into his arms. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pulls you away to say something, probably like ‘there’s no way you’re my granddaughter. You’ve gotten too big,’ but you push against his arms to wrap your arms around him again. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere. I got you.”

“Who’s at the door Lou?” Your Nana calls and it sounds just like coming home now.

“It’s me Nana.” You say even though the sound is muffled by your Pops’ chest.

“Is that you babydoll? What are you doing here?” Your Nana rounds the corner and then you're out of your Pops’ arms and into her’s.

“We’re sorry to just surprise you. But we were in the area and Y/N has been missing you.”

“Never apologize for bringing her ho- to visit.” Your Pops voice is a little rougher than normal. “You must be Pepper Potts.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. And this is Happy, or um Harold Hogan, our head of security.” In the back of your mind you place the fact that Happy’s real name is Harold of all things, but right now you’re too focused on the fact that you’re home. “Y/N also needs to get a few more clothes and things so Happy has some boxes for her to put some stuff in.”

“That’s fine. She’s always welcome to come and get things. This may not be as fancy as where she lives now, but it will never stop being her home.” Pops voice rings out and Pepper can feel that he’s not welcoming them in like he welcomes you.

“Pepper, will you come help me get the stuff in my room?” You ask. You know Pops probably isn’t happy with the way things are working out either, but leaving Happy, he can at least go over the security plan or something. Leaving Pepper seems just mean after how nice she’s been to you today.

“Sure honey.” Pepper smiles at you. She follows you down the hallway to the door where your name is printed in block letters on a piece of computer paper. “I like this.”

“Thanks, Betty made it for me.” You pull it off the door. “Do you think I can hang it on my door at the Tower?” Pepper nods.

“If you want to, I don’t see why you can’t.” You open the door and Pepper follows you into the room that is about a quarter of the size of your room at the Tower, yet feels more at home than the Tower. “So what is coming with this time?” Pepper knows that at least with most of the books and if you want any of the furniture, they are going to have to get a few men to move it.

“I’m thinking mostly clothing and maybe some of my books. Not all of them, but at least a few of them. Oh and there’s a blanket I’ve been missing.” You walk over to the dresser in the corner and open the bottom two drawers, which are filled with mostly distressed jeans and shorts. “All of these.” You say with a laugh.

“How about I work on putting those in this box while you get the blanket and pick out some books?” Pepper suggests. You shrug, it sounds like a good enough plan. Walking over to your shelf, you have to stop yourself from calling out to JARVIS to ask him to put on music and instead pull your phone and put on your playlist instead. Have you really gotten that used to living at the tower? Before you can get to the shelf, you spy the quilt you want sticking out from the under bed boxes.

You pull it out and hold it close. Part of you wants to unwrap it and drape it around your shoulders, but you know that you’d be wasting precious time doing that. So instead you trace your fingers over the different triangles of fabric. Pepper looks up and sees what you’re looking at. “Is this the blanket you were missing?” You nod and she comes to take a seat next to you on the twin bed that you grew up in. “It’s beautiful. Was it handmade?” Pepper asks, but doesn’t make a move to touch it since it’s clearly special to you.

“My, uh, mom made it.” With everything that has happened in the last week, Pepper hasn’t actually heard anything about your mom besides Tony talking about how your mom was a one night stand. “She was in a recovery program the first three months after I was born to try and get her recovered. Alcohol and drugs. Part of her recovery was making this quilt. Something to focus on as she went through withdrawal. It’s part of the reason I was placed with my grandparents. I was born two and a half months early and addicted to crack. So she wasn’t that fit of a parent. But they hoped that with rehab she would get better and come home. It, um, didn’t work like they hoped. She relapsed and they found her on the streets six months later dead of an overdose.” You don’t look up as you trace your favorite triangle, the peach colored one. “This is the only thing I have of her. I’d like to think she made it for me, but I think I know deep down, she only made it because the program made her.”

“She would have been lucky to know you.” Pepper says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“But she didn’t so…” You trail off. “But I have Nana and Pops. And I have Tony now. And I guess you and the Avengers too.”

“You got bonus family galore.” Pepper holds you close. “I got you and I’m not letting go.” She whispers into your hair as she places a kiss there.

“Thanks Pepper.” You lean into her side, before placing the quilt into the box at your feet. “I’m glad you got me.” You admit.

It doesn’t take much longer to pack up the clothes and books you want from the room you love. There’s still other things you’ll need to come back for, but you can do that another day. You have the things you need to get you through at least the beginning of school. Before you know it, Happy is taking the boxes down to the car and you’re wrapped up in your grandparents’ arms once again. “You’re welcome anytime babygirl. You have your key for that reason.” Your Nana says into your hair.

“I know Nana.”

“And if you need a break, you come on over. Being Stark’s daughter isn’t the end all be all.” Pops’ voice is aimed more at Pepper than at you, but you nod.

“I know Pop.” You kiss both their cheeks. “I love you both. So much.”

“We love you too babygirl. Always have, always will.” Your Nana runs a hand through your hair. “Get going. You probably have big fancy plans for the day.”

“Still the same girl you know.” You say as you walk towards where Pepper stands. You follow her towards the door, but take one more look at your grandparents before you both start making your way downstairs. As you get outside, Pepper looks at you.

“Do you want to do more thrifting and mani/pedis or you want to call it a day? You still have next weekend? We can always do more back to school stuff then.”

“Do you mind if we don’t? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did. Plus we can order food to the Tower and maybe watch a movie or something instead. Calm night instead.”

“That sounds awesome.” You say as Happy starts the drive back to the Tower. Going back to Manhattan took a little longer than normal, just because of the time of day. You scroll through social media, trying to take in your last day as Y/N Y/L/N. Tomorrow the news breaks about you being Tony’s daughter, so you’ll take the calm before the storm. Pepper is reading over things on her own phone, probably SI stuff if you had to guess. “Pepper?”

“Mmm-hmm?” She answers as she scrolls.

“Will the explosion from the news tomorrow be bad?” You ask before adding. “Like you dealt with when Tony announced he was Iron Man. Will this be that bad you think?” Pepper puts down her phone and looks at you.

“I don’t think this will be bad news. I think there will be questions, but that’s why SI has been putting together a lot of press packets for different situations. If the press tries to spin it in different ways, we will be ready. The most important thing we have stated in all of this, is that while Tony didn’t know about you until recently, he is very happy to be your father and he is doing everything in his power to provide the best home for you.” Pepper pauses looking for signs from you on which way you were feeling. “For now, how you feel about everything is going to stay silent because of your age and such, but eventually, if you feel up for it, we’d love to publish something about you and your dad together.”

“Why about me?”

“Because the public will want to know, but also because you are one day possibly going to be a face of SI. If that’s the path you wish to take. Again this isn’t a decision you have to make anytime soon. Right now, the focus is keeping you out of the press as much as possible.” Happy pulls into the garage as Pepper says all of this. “But I think the public is just going to be interested in learning about who you are because you are an extension of Tony and they like knowing about him.”

“I can understand that. But I don’t even feel like I know him all that well yet.”

“You will in time. I promise.” Pepper says as she walks with you towards the elevator you had left only a few hours earlier. You had grabbed the clothes from Bayside, but Happy said he would get the boxes and take them to your room for you. Upon arriving to the living room, Tony is surprisingly waiting for you and Pepper.

“My two favorite ladies, back already.”

“Finished early. Figured we could do a night in instead.” Pepper explains as Tony gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you have a good day kiddo?” Tony looks towards you and you nod before turning to Pepper.

“Thanks Pepper.” You say before giving her a quick hug. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Of course. I had fun with you too.” Pepper’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you back. And for a moment you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to have a mom. Yours was out of your life moments after you were born. You let yourself relax in her arms for a moment before you feel Tony’s eyes on the two of you.

“Uh, I should go put these things away.” You pull away from Pepper and make your way towards your room, canvas bags in tow without saying anything to Tony.

“It’s not fair Pep.”

“What?”

“She hugs you.” Tony whines as he plops down on the couch. “All she does for me is make playlists called Tony Stark Can Rot. How is that fair?”

“Now how would you know what her playlists are called?”

“I asked JARVIS to play some of her music so I could know more about her since she refuses to hang out with me. He asked which playlist and started listing them. To be fair it has some great music on it. But still, I would never make a playlist called Y/N Stark Can Rot.”

“You don’t name your playlists.” Pepper points out.

“Not the point.”

“The point is you're jealous that she’s closing herself off to you.”

“Maybe I am. She’s my kid. I want to know her. I want to do everything for her and with her. But everything I try backfires.”

“So don’t try so hard.” Tony’s brows pull together as he looks up at Pepper. “You suggested her friends coming over for dinner and that worked really well.”

“Yeah worked really well in that she told me about a teacher that hated her enough to throw scissors at her.”

“She also acknowledged that you’re going to be here for her from now on. That’s a success. So try doing small things like that. Don’t make huge gestures. Don’t you dare buy her a gigantic bunny. Try to let her get to know you. And don’t try to buy your way into her life. She hates that.”

“You literally took her shopping today.”

“We went thrifting.”

“What? All of that needs to be washed immediately!” Tony starts freaking out.

“This right here?” Pepper motions towards him, “This is the kind of reaction that will push her farther away. She loves thrift shops. She told me and we went to her favorite ones to look for clothes. She opened up about her life before us Tony. That picture on your phone. That’s a moment she shared with Natasha. You need to give her a moment to open up to you.” Tony notices Happy walking by with a couple of boxes.

“What all did you buy her today?”

“We stopped by her grandparents’ house so she could pick up some more stuff. She mentioned she was getting low on some stuff.” Pepper motions towards what Happy is carrying. “She really misses them. I think we need to give her time to see them too.”

“I’m not keeping her from them.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying I think we should schedule times so she doesn’t feel that way. Also I told her that SI would start a charity fund to fight the cost of insulin.”

“Not against that but why?”

“She was feeling really uncomfortable about how comfortable we all spend on a day to day, based on her background with money.” Pepper says, not really explaining.

“That tells me less than nothing.”

“It’s her story to share. You’ll have to wait until she wants to share it with you.” Pepper kisses his cheek. “But you have an amazing kid.”

“I know that. I just want to know her like all of you know her.” Tony says frustrated.

“Give her time.”

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #Pepper Potts #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?#happy hogan

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jynxes · 3 years

Text

Leather n’ Red - Reggie Peters

Summary: Much like the deceased boys of Sunset Curve, Duchess died right before the gig that could’ve been her band’s big break. Thing is, she left the dark room a little earlier than they did, made a couple friends and learned a few tricks. What will happen when she and the boys can be seen when singing with Julie, the only alive person that can see them all?

Paring: Reggie Peters x Duchess Himura (OC)

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: One f-bomb dropped, 2020 slang and the boys being confused

Thank you to @beansisarat7 for beta reading this chapter for me!

A/N: Here’s the second chapter! A quick little disclaimer, I’ve never actually been clubbing, so I’m sorry if this isn’t really right. That being said, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially since I did it instead of doing homework, anyway, I hope you enjoy!

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

Chapter 2 // No cap, but go off I guess

After hanging out in the garage for a bit, Luke poofs us somewhere. The guys grunt a little, not used to poofing everywhere.

Reggie looks down at himself for a second, letting out a "Huh?"

We all look out below us onto a familiar street, watching people passing on the sidewalk in silence.

Luke breaks it, "Hey, I know being dead isn't our first choice, but I mean, it sure is easy getting around."

"It's like, super easy to get everywhere," I agree.

"Easy for you, maybe," Reggie says, "I lost my shirt on that one," he gestures to his bare torso. I let my eyes linger a little longer than they should've.

Then his shirt poofs back and I let out an almost inaudible, "aww." Based on the look Alex gave me it wasn't as quiet as I meant for it to be.

"Ooh never mind! There it is," Reggie says, happy his shirt is back and Luke chuckles.

Alex and I notice the sound of neon buzzing and look up to see a sign for the Orpheum.

"Okay, so, why'd you bring us here?" Alex asks, "Just another painful reminder of where we never got to play?"

"Yeah, thanks Luke, not cool," I back him up, Luke and Reggie look up to the sign before Luke brings his eyes back to Alex and I.

"I mean, dudes, the game isn't over yet," Luke says before poofing us down onto the pavement below and begins walking, "I'm telling you, we've been given a second chance. Let's find some music. Let's see how many clubs we can hit before sunrise."

"We're going clubbing! A'right!" I exclaim, getting excited and giving Luke a high five.

We keep walking for a second when we realize Alex isn't with us, we turn around, walking backwards, "Hey Alex, you coming?" Luke asks.

"Let's go!" Reggie yells to him.

"We're partying tonight!" I yell before poofing away the red and black striped sweater below my AC/DC graphic tee.

"So, where are we hitting first?" Alex asks, running to catch up to us.

"I, uh, I actually have no idea," Luke reveals.

"Okay, don't worry, I know a few places," I say confidently before remembering that they think I arrived at the same time as them, "If they're still here that is."

"Okay, tell us, where we heading first?" Reggie grins excitedly.

"We're gonna see if we can get into The Doe," I tell them, "It's about three blocks over," and with that I poof us to The Doe.

The boys look at the sign for the club, and then to the line to get in. If we were alive then we'd have to wait like an hour to get in, but since we're ghosts we can sneak in in two seconds.

"Come on!" I say, grabbing their arms and dragging them in.

There's some music playing, but it's not any 90s songs, nothing they'd find familiar. It takes me a second but I'm pretty sure it's that band named 5 Seconds of Summer or something, Billy's been trying to get me up to date with music and I've been doing fine so far.

"She looks so perfect standing there

In my American Apparel underwear,"

Yup, it's 5SOS, Billy would be proud.

"Wow," Reggie says, looking around at all the lights and people on the dancefloor.

"Yeah," I smile, "What d'you think? Is music different now?"

"Well, this is one song, but it's pretty good, no Sunset Curve though," he grins.

"Yeah, I agree. But it's pop rock, so it won't be as full on as Sunset Curve."

"Wanna dance?" he asks me, extending a hand for me to take.

'Fuck it,' I think, "Sure," I take his hand and we begin to dance. It's not really a song you can dance with a partner to, unless you're grinding I guess, but we make it work, dancing next to each other and he spins me every now and then which is fun.

When the song finishes we go to check out what Alex and Luke are doing. When we find them they're looking at the DJ's playlist, and they are skimming through the names trying to figure out which are rock bands and which they think would be best to listen to.

"Luke," I say, taking his arm, "Just let the DJ play her playlist. If you wanna hear the new music then just listen to it."

"But, Duchess, I wanna hear the competition. I wanna find out what rock bands are like now!" he protests.

"Please Luke?" I say, tugging on his arm again, "I'll dance with you?" I offer.

"Ugh, fine, only because I can't say no to a pretty girl that wants to dance."

"Sure you can't Patterson," I smirk, pulling him onto the dance floor as a slower song begins. It takes me a second until I recognize it as a song by the Vamps, Somebody to You.

"Look at me now, I'm falling

I can't even talk, still stuttering,"

We hold hands and dance, lip-synching to a song we don't even know, laughing when we clearly mess up. He spins me around a couple times, and I dip him at the end of one of the choruses making us burst into giggles. I'm really starting to like hanging out with the boys, they're great fun to be around.

The song ends and we hug, "So," I begin, "What did you think of that song?"

"Well, it's not rock, and it's definitely not Sunset Curve," I roll my eyes at these observations, "But it was good, I had fun dancing to it."

"See? Just because it's not rock doesn't mean it's trash," I laugh, and he rolls his eyes.

I turn to Reggie and Alex before taking a step towards Alex, "Well, since I've danced with these two morons, I guess I owe you a dance?"

I put my hand out for him to take and after looking to Reggie and Luke, who both nod at him, he looks back to me and takes my hand.

The song we dance to is Girls Like You by Maroon 5. It's a nice song, slower and a pop rock song that's more pop than rock. We both have a lot of fun doing turns and exaggeratedly pointing to each other for every,

"When I come through

I need a girl like you, yeah yeah,"

Alex is definitely a dancer, and a good one at that. We both have fun dancing more hip-hop when we get to Cardi's verse and we're laughing the entire time.

When the song ends we join the other two and they just look at us both wide eyed.

"What?" we ask.

"You two really like to dance," Reggie says.

"Yeah, guess Alex isn't the only dancer in the group now," Luke comments. Oh, if only you knew.

"So, next club?" I ask.

"Sure, where to next?" Reggie asks me.

I think for a bit before deciding, "How about we go to Okay?"

"Okay?" the boys chorus.

"Yeah, Okay, it's a club, you down?"

The boys exchange a look before shrugging, "Sure," Luke says, "Take us to Okay."

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

I take the guys to Okay and we dance for a bit, Okay plays a few older songs from like the 2000s and the 90s, so we actually know the words to these songs. We're goofing about and dancing when Reggie and I bump into someone, we exchange a look before looking back at the person we bumped into.

The person has short green hair, a long sleeved black and white top and a black skirt with black suspenders seemingly holding it up, they look great.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," they say before realizing what just happened. "Ghosts?"

"Yeah, we're ghosts, I'm Duchess," I tell them.

"And I'm Reggie," Reggie says, putting out his hand to shake theirs.

"Well, I'm Kai," Kai says, shaking Reggie's hand," And in case you were wondering I use they/them pronouns."

"They— th- what?" Reggie stammers, confused.

"Oh, uh, Kai, Reggie died in the 90s and only just left the dark room, he's still catching up," I explain to them.

"Oh, that's okay, I can explain if you want," Kai offers, and Reggie nods his head.

"When we refer to people we use pronouns, right?" Reggie nods again, "Well, instead of using he/him or she/her, I use they. Like what you would do if you didn't know if someone was a he or a she. Think of it like you found a wallet, you'd say 'oh, someone left their wallet here, I'll leave it so that they can find it,' do you follow?"

"Yeah, I do. Thanks for teaching me," Reggie smiles, still slightly embarrassed, "I use he/him pronouns, is that right?"

"Yeah, it is," I smile, "And I use she/her."

"Well, now that we're properly introduced, do you wanna come meet my friends?" Kai asks.

"Sure, can we go get our friends, Alex and Luke?" I ask.

"Sure, go ahead," Kai says, "We'll be over in the booth over there," they point to a booth in the corner of the club.

They walk to their both and Reggie and I scramble to find Alex and Luke. When we do we tell them we found other ghosts and Reggie explains to them Kai's pronouns, he seemed really proud to be educating them and it was honestly adorable.

We go over to the booth Kai pointed out to us and meet their friends, Mel, who died in 2017, is cis and uses she/her and Eli, who died in 2019, is trans and uses he/him. They're really cool people who told us a lot about newer music, and what it's like being a ghost. They also told us that they like to prank alive people even though they don't really know how to do much as ghosts.

"Just because you can't touch 'em doesn't mean you can't mess with 'em," Eli says with an evil grin.

"What do you mean?" Luke asks.

"Well, for instance, they can't feel your skin, but they can feel fabric and texture," Mel explains, "They can feel the wetness of water on your hand but not your hand. Ya get me?"

"Yeah, I get you."

"I know this is off topic but tbh I don't care, Luke, your fit is so 90s but like it's also fire," Eli compliments.

"Uhhhh," the guys sit with their mouths open, not knowing what to say, because they are not up to date with 2020 slang.

"Eli, dude, they're literally from the 90s," I laugh, "They highkey have no clue what you're saying."

"Oohhh, tea," Mel gasps.

"Yeah, they make knowing basic slang seem like a flex," I giggle.

"Cap, that's gotta be cap," Eli shakes his head.

"No cap, but go off I guess," I shrug.

"Damn, no need to be salty."

"I'm not salty, they're just himbos."

"They're himbos?" Mel asks, "You sure?"

"Well, yeah, but like they also create a himbo when combined. Luke is beefy, you see those arms? And Reggie is dumb of ass," I say before turning to Reggie, "said with love. And Alex is pure of heart. Ergo, they create himbo."

"Can't argue with that logic, but I'm shook, how do you understand what we're saying, and they don't?"

"Well, first off I died in 2005, second off, I've been here a little bit longer than they have, that's why I have the 200 IQ plays that they don't."

"Still don't know what you're saying," Reggie says.

"Stop messing with them," Kai scolds, "I'm sorry about them, I died in 2014 and spent a little while in the dark room, it took me a while to figure out what they were saying."

"It's fine," Alex says, "We just, uh, just have a lot to catch up on I guess."

"You do, but it's getting late and if we don't yeet ourselves back home then Angel is gonna kill us, again," Eli says.

"Bet!" Mel agrees.

"We gotta get going, is what they mean, but we'll see you around?" Kai asks.

"Of course," I say, "See ya."

"Bye guys," they all say.

"Bye," the guys reply before Kai, Eli, and Mel poof away.

"Shall we hit the next club?" I ask the guys and they nod. And so I take them to what will be our final club of the night, a place called Midnight.

I poof us there and the guys drag me to a table before all turning to me.

"What?" I question, confused.

"How the hell do you know all that stuff?" Luke interrogates me.

"Yeah, I thought you showed up same time as us," Alex adds on.

"And what's a himbo?" Reggie asks, the guys look at him, "What? It's a valid question!"

"Okay, well, I didn't appear into the afterlife with you," I elucidate, "I just became visible to Julie with you guys. I've been here for like a month and a half already."

"A month and a half? And you didn't think to tell us?!" Alex all but yells at me.

"Sorry! I was confused when I was brought to you and Julie and then I realized who you were, and then I found out Julie could see me! Sorry if I didn't spill my life story to you," I sass.

"Yeah, no that makes sense," Reggie agrees.

"Yeah, I mean it's not every day you meet your music idols," Luke says arrogantly.

"And it's definitely not every day you realize they're huge dorks either," I say, pushing Luke's shoulder gently and he laughs.

"Reggie did raise a good question earlier though," Luke says.

"Oh? And what is that?" I ask.

"What is a himbo?"

"Ah, no. You're not ready to learn that yet."

"What do you mean?" Alex questions.

"You're just not ready. Trust me on that. Now come on, do we wanna stay here or will I show you some new things in LA?"

"Let's stay here a bit," Luke suggests, and the boys agree.

"Okay, let's dance then," I say grabbing them to the dance floor. It's definitely different clubbing as a ghost, there's no eating or drinking and no mingling unless you meet other ghosts.

After a bit of dancing the music quiets down, it's still playing but if you sang into the mic onstage then you could drown it out. I look to Reggie and he smiles at me, I nod to the mic and he taps Luke's shoulder and points to the mic, we smile and go onstage.

I look at the DJ's playlist and find a song that would absolutely be fun to sing with the boys. It's a song by Green Day and so although it came out in 2004, they'll still know the band. Before I put it on, I explain to them that although yes, the song does have a slur in it, it was meant as a reclamation and beyond that we can just not sing it, we agreed on the latter. I hit play on the karaoke option and make sure the boys can see the lyrics.

And so we begin as any normal person would start a song, screaming at the top of our lungs,

"DON'T WANNA BE AN AMERICAN IDIOT

DON'T WANT A NATION UNDER THE NEW MANIA,"

Singing with the boys was so much fun, honestly, I want to sing with them again for sure! People are confused when we finish because no one was up on the stage and we don't exactly sound like Green Day, but they enjoyed it, nonetheless.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

After staying in the club for a while the boys decided that they did want me to take them around the city. I show them all the new venues and places where bands play gigs, I show them what places shut down and what's there in their place.

The guys immediately stopped the tour when I revealed that I learned a couple ghosting tricks from my ghost friend. They really wanted to see what I could do, I can't really do much, but I showed them regardless. I lifted a couple things and set off a couple car alarms but I couldn't do much other than that. The guys found it really cool though, I gotta introduce them to Billy at some point.

The sun starts to rise and we decide that we need to start getting back to the Molina house, the boys want to wander for a bit longer, but I decide to go back to go check on Carlos, he's gotta be a little confused, especially after seeing Julie see me last night.

I poof to the door outside his room and knock quietly before hearing Carlos saying, "Come in."

"Hey Carlito," I smile after walking through the door.

"Hey Dee," he smiles, sitting on his bed, "What's up?"

"I just thought you'd want to know what's going on. Ya know, because of last night."

"Oh, yeah, could Julie see you?"

"Yeah, she, uh, she can."

"She can see you? How?!"

"Well, it's a long story, and I'm not 100% sure how she can see me either, but she can," I then whisper to myself, "I really don't understand why she can see the others and you can't though."

"What?" he asks.

"Oh, nothing. So, what's new, what are you gonna do today?" I deflect.

"Since we're moving, I have to pack my room, which means cleaning under my bed, and we both know that I don't wanna clean under my bed," the boy says, shaking his head.

"Hey!" I say, offended, "You found my demo under your bed!"

"Yeah, and who knows, I might find more demos and summon more demon ghosts!"

"I'm not a demon!" I protest, "I'm a ghost! A normal ghost, just tryna get through the afterlife."

"That's fair, well, I gotta get ready for school, but I'll see you after?"

"Yeah, of course Calo," I assure him, "I'll see you later."

"Bye DeeDee."

And with that I poof to the guys, they were still wandering around LA and when I show up we all decide to go back to the studio.

We all poof into the back of the studio and we hear Julie singing and playing the piano. This is surprising to the boys because she told them that she doesn't play, and it's surprising for me because I know that she hasn't played since her mom died, so it's a little crazy for all of us.

"Wake up your dream and make it true Look out, look inside of you When you feel lost Relight that spark, time to come out of the dark Wake up, mm-mm, wake up"

We all look at each other in awe of Julie. This girl has an incredible voice and she plays the piano amazingly, honestly I'm glad she's playing again, depriving the world of her talent is almost criminal!

When she's done, Julie lifts the last sheet of music off the piano reading the note that her mom left at the bottom of it before hugging it and crying softly.

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪

#reggie x oc #reggie peters fanfic #reggie peters fanfiction #reggie peters x oc #reggie peters #reginald peters fanfic #reginald peters fanfiction #reginald peters #reginald peters x oc #duchess himura #reggie x duchess himura #leather n’ red #nyxiefics #nyxie writes

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leopardprintismybrown · 4 years

Text

Time for confessions

(From Music Life August Issue 1985)

In May, Queen made their sixth visit to Japan. Despite the disturbing rumous of a breakup, the concert was still amazing and once again the Japanese performance was a huge success. After Freddie’s interview for last month’s issue, this month we will share an interview with Roger Taylor and John Deacon. They will be open about confidential topics never shared before: the truth about the breakup, what will happen to Queen…

**********************************************************

★ This was the best tour even according to them

First of all, this year’s concert was awesome. It was very impressive and, in my opinion, it was better than any previous performances.

Roger: Really?! Thank you so much. Even in our opinion, this world tour was the best we’ve ever done.

John: Before coming to Japan, we’ve performed in Australia and New Zealand. Our last time in Australia was nine years ago and this was our first time in New Zealand, but the concert in Sidney was particularly great.

Roger: Exactly. 70000 people attended the 4 concerts in Australia. The tickets were all sold-out and right about that time the album was at the second place, it was amazing. Though, apparently, it was the wrong season. The weather in Australia is usually very nice, but it kept raining throughout our stay!

Well, well… And how was the response of the Japanese audience?

Roger: Very good! It’s not flattery, I’m serious. Since the security was strict, I had the impression that the people weren’t participating as expected, but everyone was singing with us and it was great!

John: Speaking of which, yesterday Roger and I were discussing about how many times we’ve performed at the Budōkan. I guess 15-16 times, maybe 17?

The staging and the set changed but it was as impactful as ever. When did you start with that stage set?

John: After “The Works” was completed. We started with the European tour. Then we toured South America, Brazil… and after that Japan. The one who designed that stage was…

Roger: Me! (laughs) Then with our tour manager we thought of a stage designer in Los Angeles. Basically, it’s the atmosphere of the movie “Metropolis”.

I was overwhelmed by the stage set, but I was really surprised to hear the early Queen numbers such as “Liar” and “Seven Seas of Rhye” because I wasn’t really expecting to hear those songs…

Roger: Uhm, we selected the songs together. The tour with this set started with Europe, but in the middle of it we wanted to include some early songs, too. Then we decided to do a medley with 5 early songs and to put it into the set halfway through the European tour.

John: We’ve played so many songs so far, that I even forgot some of them. It was so hard to remember! (laughs)

★ The scary story behind Rock in Rio

I have a few questions about “Rock in Rio” that took place in Brazil on January of this year. You’ve already played concerts in Brazil so far but this was the first time in Rio, right?

John: Yes, we’ve been to Argentina and Brazil in ‘81, but we only played at Sao Paulo Football Stadium. This was our first time playing in Rio, but the hall and the audience was great.

Roger: It was the biggest concert we ever did. We did two shows, the first day and the Friday night, and each one was attended by 250000 people. Everyone sang with us and the atmosphere was great! There was no violence.

John: And we were lucky. The two nights when we played it didn’t even rain. It was an outdoor location and the rain could have been a problem. The ground gets messy because of the mud... It rained the day Rod Stewart played.

Did you have the chance to watch the performances of other bands?

Roger: Of course. I saw Whitesnake. I also met Cozy and…. Oh yeah, I saw Rod Stewart.

John: I didn’t go… the venue was so distant. However, there are bars with televisions in Brazil and groups of young people watched together the part of the event that was broadcasted every night. AC/DC were good.

Would you care to share some interesting anecdotes?

Roger: Oh! I have a lot, but those are not properly the kind of stories to tell. (laughs) Because it was like a 10 day long party.

John: Oh yes, a lot happened…. Let’s see… The first day we had a hard time. Rio is a traffic jam. For this reason, the people in Rio leave their cars on the road when it gets jammed and walk. So we decided to go the venue by helicopter, just in case. However, the road was not packed at all and we arrived way too early.

Roger: Yes, we had to be at the venue by 6 o’ clock and we couldn’t be late. It’s good that we arrived early, but our set actually started at 2 in the morning! Next time we’ll go by bus no matter what!!

John: Also, it was fun to be able to meet people we haven’t met before. With him (if you look at the picture on ML April Issue, he’s pointing at Neil Murray) it was the first time. Oh, this is a picture we took at the party in the hotel (he’s looking at the picture of Brian with a local fan), Brian looks drunk. He jumped into the pool. (laughs)

What?? I can’t imagine Brian jumping into the pool! Well, now that you say that, his hair and trousers are soaked… Anyway, it looks like you enjoyed “Rock in Rio”! (laughs)

Roger, John: Yes, a lot! (laughs)

★ It was difficult (The Works)

It’s been almost 12 years since Queen was formed…

John: Yes, it’s been 12 years… 12 years! (he suddenly makes the imitation of an old man) 14 years that I’ve known the other members.*

In these years you’ve established your own musical style, you’ve released many wonderful records, and you’ve written a brilliant and shining page in the history of rock. And also, each member is now working individually as a musician. Is there a special reason for working outside of the group?

Roger: Uhm, my personal reason is simply because I like to work.

John: It was very difficult to complete “The Works”, to be honest… Of course, all of us want to pursue Queen. But it’s true that preserving the group is hard. When we entered the studio, we had a lot of expectations but it was as if the time was just flowing rapidly without realizing it… The recording of “The Works” took too much time and it was a bit tiring. Four people were not on the same page, musically speaking... though, of course, we made it work in the end, somehow. But this is the case for every band that has been around for years.

It must be difficult, because every member of Queen is an independent musician.

John: The next plan is to take a break for a while and then go back to the studio around November. This time we’re also going to change the producer.

Do you already have ideas for the new album?

Roger: I have something vague in my mind, but nothing concrete. I want to do something different from “The Works”. I think that “The Works” is a good album with a mix of modern and old elements, but we have to keep changing. “Tonight” by David Bowie was a mistake, in my opinion. The album was released too soon and it hadn’t changed enough.

★ Break up? We will someday

Do you want to do something in particular in your time off? Is John going to make a solo album?

John: I thought about it. I went to a little studio in London but I don’t have time to think during tours. But when it comes to singing… I’m sorry, but I need to get someone’s help for the song. (laughs)

And Roger? Are you going to make a third solo album?

Roger: I have no plans for a solo album but I’m producing something, lately. Sideway Look, Jimmy Nail… Jimmy Nail made it to the top 20 in the UK charts. It was the first record I produced, so it’s all the more satisfying!

Are there any musicians or bands you want to produce in the future?

Roger: Yes, a lot. Jeff Beck, and also Rod Stewart. It looks like we can do a good job.

Have you listened to Freddie’s solo album?

John: I’ve listened to some songs, but not to the whole album, yet. “Made in Heaven” is a good song.

Roger: The one I like more is “Made in Heaven”, too.

Finally, I’d like to ask a slightly more serious question. There’s been rumours about Queen breaking up…

Roger: (bursts into laughter) Mwahahahah…

Of course, I don’t want to believe in these rumours, but I’d like to know the truth.

John: Well, someday we will breakup. But does anybody know when this someday will be?

Roger: In these 14 years, we’ve always denied with a firm “NO!” whenever someone asked about Queen breaking up. That’s just a rumour. There are absolutely no plans to break up at the present day. I wonder if everyone wants Queen to break up so bad... (laughs)

John: Certainly, touring is getting harder, because we have to completely change the shows and the approach. But it’s been decided that we’ll work on the new album starting from November.

Please continue your work with Queen forever, no matter what form you want it to take in the future. I think this is the wish of all the fans.

Roger, John: Thank you very much. You’re right, that is way better than breaking up.

Ok, this is really the last question. What do you want to do in the future as members of Queen and as individuals?

Roger: Personally, I want more kids! (laughs) As a Queen member, I want to be more successful in America. It’s true that we have a certain notoriety in America, but the last album didn’t sell that well… Well, there are ups and downs in everything. That’s why I want to hit big in America again. To achieve that, we must do a looooong tour centered in Midwest. (laughs)

Roger and John have clearly denied the breaking up of Queen. They’ve talked about ambitions for the future, like achieving a bigger success in America. Their eyes focused on the future have still not lost their glow.

*I don’t own the magazine where this interview was released so I cannot double check. I think the numbers have been reversed because Queen formed in 1970 before John met them. And if you read further below, Roger mentions 14 years of activity.

**********************************************************

A/N: As always, I am not an English native speaker, so forgive any possible error. Also, remember that translating into a foreign language is difficult and I hope I have preserved the original meaning.

#translated by me #music life #music life magazine #queen #queen interview #queen in japan #80s #80s Queen #roger taylor #freddie mercury #Brian May #John Deacon #rock in rio #1985 #the works

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itsreallylaterightnow · 4 years

Text

Nothing is As it Has Been (and I Miss Your Face Like Hell)

When I say that I was not expecting to write almost 3,000 words of pure angst in the span of an hour tonight... let’s just say I was uniquely inspired. I wrote this based off of a lot of grief. My grandfather passed away four years ago, and I always think about what I would say to him if I could go back. So this is pure author’s indulgence and it was very healing to write it, so if it helps you in any way then it was worth it. There are a few did-bits of dialogue in there straight from conversations with my grandfather, and let me say that writing this work had me sobbing, so there’s your fair warning. Love you all tons.

If you asked Peter why he did it, he really wouldn’t have had much of an answer for you. He could have told you how watching Tony die in front of him – hearing as his father figure’s heart slowly became too weak, too overrun with radiation to beat, that it had quit altogether had ripped Peter’s heart straight from his body. He could have told you about the weight. The weight of the grief that had been planted on his chest, heavier than any building that could have been dropped on him. The baggage that he had been carrying around with him in the nine months since he had watched Tony’s first arc reactor drift out into the lake. The way that his entire body felt like a magnet – being pulled straight to earth’s core and no matter how much he tried to stand, to live his life as Peter Parker, he could never seem to get off the ground. He could talk about the nightmares. The bad ones. Waking up certain that he was turning to dust. Rubbing his hands together vigorously to make sure they weren’t leaving him. How he had bought a weighted blanket so he could be sure he wouldn’t float away. Then there were the terrible dreams. The dreams where Tony was back. Where he was smiling at Peter, and they were in the lab together laughing at some stupid science pun that no one else would understand. And it was wonderful. But it was the worst, because then Peter would wake up. And he would – for a split second – just smile about the memory. And then, like a train crashing into him, he would remember. The snap. Blinding lights. Losing someone he had just gotten back to. Red eyes and charred skin. The numbness. The weight. And it would be like losing him all over again. He could have told you all of these things.

But he would have told you something different. A story of impulse control. How, when May had told him that Pepper had invited the two of them over for a lunch, saying she had something to give Peter – that she wanted to see him – he had almost backed out. Because the idea of seeing that lake, knowing the arc reactor was sitting at the bottom of it, just being in the presence of the place where Mr. Stark’s funeral was going to be was too much for him. But he couldn’t say no.

So he had gone. When they pulled up to the house, Peter had avoided looking at the lake at all costs. Morgan had hugged him, and Pepper had smiled, drawing him into a warm embrace. And he had almost broken right then, because she almost smelled like him. He could smell the motor oil and coffee, with a bit more vanilla to it. But it was almost his smell. The smell he had come to acquaint with acceptance, and care. Jokes and a mentorship. Building and love. He hated being so sensitive to smell. Because people have such specific ones. And when someone was gone, how could you ever get that smell again? No matter how much you want it, how hard you try to pinpoint it or recreate it, you will never get that smell back. And he had thought about it over and over again. He had gripped the shirt of Tony’s that he had taken from the lake house, breathing in the scent, just being in the scent. Every night until slowly, like the memories he held so tightly, it had faded away. The smell had become the same smell of all of Peter’s shirts. No more Tony. No more motor oil, no more coffee. It was pencil led and apple juice. And Peter had wept when he realized it. He had refused to wash the shirt, hoping against all odds that he was wrong.

They had lunch, the four of them. Peter had looked around the house, taking it in. He had tried to imagine that Mr. Stark would just come walking around the corner, making some joke about why Peter looked two seconds away for collapsing in tears. Tony had always been able to tell when he was about to lose it. And Peter had been so proud of himself for how composed he had been. And then Pepper had handed it to him. The fake picture Mr. Stark had made him take for the internship. He had a goofy grin on his face, and Tony had held up a peace sign behind his head as he laughed. Pepper had handed it to him, saying that she knew that Tony would have wanted him to have it. Saying that she and Morgan were going to be moving back into the city and when she had gone through Tony’s things, she had found it and knew she should give it to Peter. When she had handed it across the table, the second Peter saw the arm that Tony had had around him, he pushed his chair back swiftly, the wood creaking on the ground.

“Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.” He had said, voice thick as though he had just swallowed honey. He walked down a hall, taking the last door on the left, just needing to cry and get it out of the way but not being willing to do it in front of everyone. He had walked through the door, one hand over his eyes as he had wept. He closed the cedar door behind him with a bang, hopefully discouraging anyone from coming in after him.

Peter collapsed to the concrete floor, his hand sliding down the table, gripping onto something soft as he drug it with him. He blinked through the tears, looking down at the black material of an AC/DC shirt. Confusion raced through his brain as he looked around, his heart sputtered. He was in a lab. Well, a garage turned into a lab. He began to weep harder. Tony’s lab. The thing he missed most. Spending hours, the minutes melting into one another as the sun faded away, listening to the music that Mr. Stark would sing along to as they worked in companionable silence. He gripped the shirt in shaking hands, pulling it to his nose without hesitation, and he breathed in.

A guttural sound came from him as the smell hit him. Peter’s body folded in half, his face touching the floor as he gripped the shirt with reckless abandon. Because that was it. The smell he had never been sure he would get back. He took breath after breath. Motor oil and coffee and aftershave… and burgers… and the tiniest hint of Pepper’s vanilla and Morgan’s playdough and Peter’s web-fluid and all of it mixed together perfectly to create Tony. Tony.

Peter would have told you that he wasn’t sure how long he had laid on the floor. Wasn’t sure when he had seen it.

Because he had heard stories of the time travel. Stories of the ugly suits and the wrist bands and Pym particles over the giant quantum realm stand. So when he had looked up and saw it – his heart had stopped beating altogether. And Peter was moving faster than he had ever moved, forgetting the T-shirt and stepping forward to the workbench on the other side of the room. Because there was the white suit, and two Pym particles, and the wrist band and what looked to be a single-person quantum realm stand. Peter hadn’t even had to think. This is where he would have told you that he had no impulse control. With a deep breath, he tried to think. He needed to see his Tony, but despite the grief that had overtaken him when Mr. Stark had snapped, he wouldn’t risk losing everyone again, couldn’t do that. So he set the date for a year after the snap. He set it the location for this lab. And without another breath, he had hit the button.

Lights, and colors, and strange feelings had overwhelmed him, and when he’d landed it had been straight on his hands and knees. Peter took a shuddering breath and looked around him. He was in the lab, Tony’s lab. It was messier. Newer. There were scattered papers, and Pepper’s rescue suit, and old coffee cups, and the room was a mess. It was dark, and Peter blinked as he looked around, his hand running over a still-hot coffee mug. He was looking around when he heard it. The footsteps.

The footsteps that he could have told apart from anyone. The man who walked heavy. His steps exactly 1.5 seconds apart from one another. The way his left foot landed heavier than his right foot due to a barely perceptible limp. Peter just stared – flabbergasted as the man had opened the door.

And the both of them were staring at ghosts. Peter felt his heartbeat everywhere. Pounding so loud that he couldn’t make sense of anything other than Tony. Standing there. His face ashen as he mindlessly shut the door.

“Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice was barely a whisper as he gripped the table next to him for support.

“Who the hell are you?” The man had asked, his face turning into hard lines.

“It’s me – well… kind of me. I mean it’s me-me but from the future.” Tony blinked hard, taking a small step forward.

“The future?”

“Yes, sir. Well, you see- it’s a long story that I really, really don’t want to talk about, but I just… I needed to see you.” Peter’s lip began to quiver as he took a shaky step forward. “I really needed to see you.” Then he was falling to his knees, and suddenly Tony was there. Hands on Peter’s arms, and pulling him into his chest, and Peter was shaking and how could one person cry so much in one day. He felt hot tears coming from Tony too. As the pair held the one thing they didn’t have so tightly. Gripping as though the other would fall through the floor.

Peter couldn’t have told you how long he breathed in the scent, felt the man’s beard on his neck, or rough hands rubbing circles on his back before he leaned back. Staring at Tony’s red-rimmed eyes.

The older man took a deep breath. “Peter. I need you to answer a few questions for me.” Peter just sniffled and nodded. “You said you’re from the future, and that you needed to see me… and well – you don’t have to be a genius to figure out that that means that I’m not around anymore.” Peter took a shaky breath and gave a single nod. Tony looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip and nodding. “Okay, just. Last thing, okay? Because I can tell you don’t want to talk about it, and I won’t push but… did we do it? Did we win?”

Peter wanted to say that no. In no world did winning equal losing Mr. Stark. Wanted to say that he had screamed about the price. That it was too high. That they shouldn’t have had to lose him in order to win everyone back. That he deserved a second chance. That Peter had really wanted Mr. Stark to grow older and watch him grow up. Watch him graduate high school and college and get married and have kids. That he had never expected it to end so soon. That he couldn’t have possibly imagined that the universe could be so cruel. But he nodded.

“We won. You got everyone back.” And Tony had nodded again, setting his jaw tightly.

“Good.”

There was a lull, for a second. Neither of them knowing what to do. Peter cleared his throat, trying to speak past the lump in it.

“I really missed you. And I didn’t get to say goodbye and I just kept thinking that my biggest regret with my dad and mom and Ben was that I had never gotten to have a proper goodbye and I just couldn’t do it again. And I never even got to say that I love you, or that you’re like my dad, and that all I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me and that you meant so much to me, and I just couldn’t handle not ever getting to tell you that.” Peter said as he wept. He couldn’t have held back the tears if he had wanted to.

“Pete- Peter, look at me, kid.” And just hearing that nickname was enough to do him in again, but he did. He looked up. “I have never been prouder of someone in my life. I love you, so much. You are the best of us. I mean it. Come here.” And he was being held again.

And they stayed there. Holding one another. Different timelines – cursed to be unable to stay with one another. They sat until their legs went numb, and Peter had followed suit as Tony stood. His mentor had showed him around the room, talking about all the ideas of getting them back. He had never made a move to ask Peter how they did it. Seemingly knowing that he shouldn’t have that information. And there had been science jokes, and long looks. Laughter and silent tears as Peter had watched the sun go down. He had known that his time with Tony was running out. Known that he had to head home eventually.

And he had been dreading every second of it when he had seen the look in Tony’s eyes.

“Is it time?” He had whispered quietly, not trusting his voice. Tony gave a slight nod. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.” Peter said, stepping forward.

“Me either.”

“How do I do it? Every day – waking up is like trying to swim to the bottom of the ocean. The pressure it… it gets worse. And everyone says it gets better but I don’t see it. Because I still feel it. With Ben and my parents. and you. And I don’t know how to swim down.”

“You just… can’t give up. Don’t give up Peter. Because believe it or not, we will see each other again.” And Peter wanted to scream that this was his last Pym particle. That he could never see Tony again, and how on earth was that fair, but he had just collapsed forward, falling into the man’s chest. Fingers curling around his shirt as Ton ran his fingers through Peter’s hair.

“I love you, kid.” Between sobs Peter spoke.

“I love you more.” He felt Tony give an unbelieving laugh.

“Oh really? You love me more? Well, I love you more than a monkey loves a banana, so? How about that?” Peter scoffed, leaning back.

“I love you to infinity.” He said, because Tony would never beat that.

But in Tony fashion, of course he could.

“I love you to infinity and back again.”

There was that silence again. Two people running out of time. Needing more of it.

“I don’t think I can press the button. I don’t think I can press the fucking button.” Peter said, staring at his hand helplessly.

“Then we will do it together.” Peter nodded, feeling as though he were suffocating as he fell forward.

Tony’s hand closed on his. Peter wanted to fight him. To stay here.

“Don’t give up Peter. I love you.” He couldn’t breathe. His chest screaming that this wasn’t fair. That he hadn’t had long enough.

“I love you too.” And with a final grip, knowing it would be the last before he had to walk away, the gruff hand – riddled with callouses and use, grease filling every line – squeezed down on the button and Peter’s world went black again.

But this time, despite the ache. Despite the overwhelming grief, at least he had gotten to say goodbye.

#Tony stark #Peter Parker #grief #recovery #time travel

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