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#you can change his blush color! you can switch his lens colors with a little slider! IT'S FUN
decamarks · 2 years
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LOOK WHO I'VE BEEN WORKING ONNNNN still a lot of little tweaks + additions i wanna make, but here's a very quick render just to show off what i have so far >=) also bonus screenshots of the model. he has SO many different little options (not pictured: animated static glasses, pupil/eye rigs, like two more outfits + accessories, etc) and i'm just having way too much fun over here basically.
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full-hd-sun · 3 years
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Instagram algorithms
Pairing:
Johnny/Ten
Warnings and genres:
Romantic Fluff, Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Idols, Attempt at Humor, Dancer Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Summary:
They say, "Never say never." In an instant - you don't even think about dancing and it's annoys you, but in another moment - you are ready to make a room with a pole in your future apartment, so that "he" dances only for you.
     - By today, the shooting of the video is over! Thank you all for the work done, everyone is free! - said the director, and the guys could finally exhale. The staff collected the decorations, and the guys went to the dressing rooms. They had ten minutes to change - a car was already waiting for them on the street to take them to the dorm.
Johnny was sorry to part with his clothes for filming, because he really loved the style that the stylists chose for him. When he went to the store himself, he could choose clothes like a bum-style type, which upset him. While Johnny was changing, he had the thought that now he would have to return to his empty dorm room, where no one was waiting for him, and the second part of the bed was cold and not warmed by anyone’s body.
He had a neighbor named Taeyong, but the next week he is going to move to his boyfriend Jaehyun’s, so they would leave him all alone in the room. Sometimes he was so jealous of them. Johnny also wanted to have someone who could lie on top, and he would bury his fingers in the hair of this “someone”, which are still a little damp after a shower, and would exchange soft kisses with him, talking about something of theirs, secret.
And so the group was standing by the car. While the guys getting into the car, Johnny tried to order food delivery, because he is exhausted. He take a seat next to Mark, and they started discussing the filming and remembered how Jaehyun blushed when they forced him to shoot a video with the tackle phrase “Jeogiyo nuna hokshi namjachingu isseoyo”. After hearing it, Yoonoh blushed again and hid behind Taeyong’s back, who responded by gently stroking his head.
While they had such conversations, they quickly got to dorm, and fled to their rooms, because everyone wanted to wash finally off the makeup that irritated the skin. Taeyong took the bathroom, and Johnny cheered himself up and go to Instagram, while waiting for a friend to free room. Since he is a great connoisseur of high-quality photos, he follows many photographers and on average he spent four hours a day on Instagram.
      - This is outstanding ... Taeyong, come here! Look what a gorgeous shot! I’m crazy about this photographer! - Johnny yelled while lifting his phone into the air.
      - You say that about every photographer you follow, - Tae replied trying not to move his facial muscles to keep the mask from slipping. - And if it’s an animal on the photo ... - he did not have time to finish the sentence, because Johnny poked him with his phone almost in the face.
      - Just look! What color correction, what kind of exposure, and how well the background is visible, which does not distract from the foreground. Everything is harmonious as hell! - Suh shakes his phone. - I won’t find content on Instagram better than animals or professional photography, - Johnny switched to the recommendations feed.
      - I wouldn’t be so sure. I also thought so before, but you know, Instagram recommendations can throw something interesting. I’ve found so many edits made by our fans. When I’m not in the mood, they amuse me, - replied Lee, removing the mask and smearing the remnants of it on his neck with thin fingers.
      - Well, yes, artificial intelligence does not stand still, but it will definitely not be cooler than well-taken photographs or animals. - said Johnny, accidentally clicking on the first post in the recommendations.
The video showed a guy was on his knees and pressed his buttocks to the pole. When the calm music began, he threw one hand on the pole, and the other temptingly ran over the body. Then he spread his knees to the sides, grabbed the pole with both hands and turned over in the air, as if this did not require special strength, standing on his right leg, and wrapping his left leg around the pole. All his movements were smooth and calm, like a surface of a sea on an early sunny morning. The video was short, but Johnny seems to have spent a lot more watching, and Taeyong pulled him out of the trance by snapping his fingers to his ear.
      - Hey, I told you here how the guys and I spent the weekend, and you didn’t even hummed. You seem to have seen a new photo there that fascinated you? - said Lee and tried to look at the elder’s phone, but last quickly blocked it.
      - No, I thought about the upcoming photo sessions. Again, so many things will have to be applied, the hair will be torment ... - Johnny tried to redirect topic in another side, because he knew that Lee was a fan of crying about transformations during each comeback and how he fed up with everything.
      - Oh yes, this is awfull. They will paint me in long-ass colour again and dress something on me, like in Fire Truck’s era ... - Taeyong complained.
_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- 
Several weeks after that video, Johnny followed actively that dancer. His name was Ten, and it turned out that he danced not only on the pole but also hip-hop, traditional Chinese dances, and even ballet ... Of course, pole dancing received the most views and admired comments. Suh watched and commented on all Ten’s videos, were on all the lives and tried to memorize every guy’s emotion.
- So, we have everybody here broken down by parts, so while the rap-line is being recorded, the vocals can have some rest. You can go take a coffee, - said the record director and disappeared into the studio with Mark and Taeyong.
Jungwoo promised that he would stay at the studio and write to the American in case of anything, so Johnny went to the cafe downstairs for calm breakfast with meringues and coffee.
He felt like a teenager when he thought about how to get attention from this handsome guy dancer. At first Johnny thought about writing Ten in direct, but he probably already has a lot of fans, so Johnny’s message will just get lost among a bunch of others. Then he thought to invite Ten as a backing dancer to their video, but they already had enough people, and then Suh thought if he received such an offer, he would definitely block this person. Therefore, Johnny was waiting for an opportunity to drive up to the guy as invisibly as possible.
Suddenly, a notification came that Ten had a new post. Opening it, Johnny flew out of this world altogether: in the video, Ten, slightly sag in the back, leaning on the pole only with his shoulder blades, but what Suh paid all his attention to was that the dancer was on high heels. Rather rhythmic music played, but Ten hit the beat with every particle of his body, captivating the American’s mind. He arching as if his bones were made from gelatin. Ten playfully shot his eyes into the lens, and Johnny felt like these eyes were hitting into his heart. Eagerly absorbing every movement, repeating Ten’s emotions on his face. When the dance ended, Ten found himself in the same position as in the beginning.
Johnny really regretted that he didn’t smoke, otherwise he would have smoked a whole pack. So he took a cup of Americano brought by the server and drank it all in a few sips. Johnny just forgot how to breathe. Previously, he did not notice a special love for dancing, especially the pole, he just did not understand the meaning. And now he is ready to find out the address of the studio where Ten dances, and even if this is some god-choked club somewhere on the edge of the city - Johnny is ready to come there and watch the guy dances, and then come to the hostel and will fantasize, remembering his cunning, fox gaze and light movements. Although somewhere deep in his soul he wanted Ten to dance only for him. Johnny was even ready to give him a room in his future apartment where Ten would dance only for him.
From such thoughts the blood rushed to the right place, but Johnny had no time to go to relax - he saw a message from Jungwoo: he wrote that it was time for them to go recording. So he quickly finished eating the meringue and having paid, ran up the stairs.
-_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- - -
The guys were exhausted: they had a promotion for the “Cherry Bomb” tour, and the last city they sang was Seoul. Before the concert there were three days off, the group divided into units: one unit slept all day, got up to eat in the evening, and went to bed again, and the second unit just played games all day, ate a lot and lay in bed, conducting live.
The time was approaching midnight, when Johnny tired of watching YouTube, so he remembered about Ten’s Instagram. When he opened the application, he immediately saw a post about Lulu, a cute short-legged cat, very popular on YouTube, who also had a “brother”. It was a short video of Lulu trying to steal a piece of cake from the hostess. This made Johnny uwu-face and flipped down the page, bumping into Ten’s post. It said that they were recruiting for a pole dancing group.
At first Johnny lit up with joy, as this is a great opportunity to roll up to the guy and pull him into his net. But he is an idol, the day after tomorrow is a concert, he needs to rest ... He weighed the pros and cons for a very long time and finally went to Taeyong, who probably did not sleep because he is working on the lyrics of a new song.
Johnny tapped his knuckles gently on the wooden door. After a couple of seconds, he heard Tae’s stomping outside the door and a tousled head appeared from there with glasses slipping to the tip of his nose.
- Oh Johnny, it’s you. Come in, just try as quietly as possible - Jae-na fall asleep, he was spinning for a long time and could not sleep, - Lee whispered, opening the door wider and letting in the guest.
Suh sat down on Taeyong’s bed and wondered how to tell properly his friend about the situation, and decided that it would be better to dump everything on a clean one.
- Taeyong, I just decided ... I want to go pole dancing. What do you think about it? Johnny asked, looking up hesitantly at Lee, who was intently crossing out individual lines of the song in his notebook. He was not even surprised at this question and just asked.
-And who is this lucky guy that you want to attract? - with a slight grin on his face.
Johnny at first did not understand what the guy was driving at, and told that he had read somewhere there that it is useful for physical fitness, like you won’t be a jerk, but your hands will be strong. And then he realized, so he ran his eyes around the room, trying not to show it.
- In what sense of “lucky-guy”? I just decided for myself. I saw one guy dancing ... - Suh started talking, but was interrupted by Lee, who finished the sentence in his place.
- And you conquered him with your skills, am I right? Taeyong finally raised his head and turned sideways to his friend.
Johnny’s face was full of emotion, but the first thing Taeyong saw was embarrassment. He hit the mark.
- But how did you guess? - the American rubbed the tips of his ears.
- Well, first - you were never very interested in dancing at rehearsals, I never saw yours much zeal to dancing. Second, - Tae bent his second finger, turning his back to Johnny and recording something, - everyone has noticed for a long time that you spend a lot of time on the phone watching videos of some dancer on repeat. And our Doyoung, like a bloodhound dog, found him in your subscriptions and we also watched all of his videos. You have a good taste for guys, Johnny-hyung, - said Taeyong mockingly, making the elder blush even more and stare at the floor, - Well, third, even though you wear oversized clothes, yours “daddy” is all it is equally visible and he gives you up with giblets.
Johnny reflexively grabbed onto the aforementioned spot, covering it up, making Taeyong burst out laughing.
- But how did you all know? Johnny asked to deflect the subject from such an awkward moment.
- Well at least that you look hilarious when you watch him dancing and try to copy his facial expressions. And also, when you were dancing in the training hall with headphones on, I could admire how you tried to sit on the splits and your pants were torn right in the middle. - Lee could no longer restrain himself and burst into soundless laughter.
Johnny would fall through the floor if he found out that this shame was seen by someone else, but he can trust Lee, so they laughed, but not loudly, as Yoonoh tossed and turn in his sleep and Taeyong left to calm him down and sang him a song.
Johnny continued to sit on the edge of the bed, face propped in his hands, and watched about the couple. They were insanely cute: Jaehyun would often massage Taeyong’s back and legs on set because the latter was training too hard and was exhausted, and Yoonoh also brought food for Lee because Taeyong usually forgot to eat during day and then ate so much before going to bed and half of the night turning from side to side. Taeyong always asked everyone to be quiet in the car when Jaehyun fell asleep on his shoulder or lap; they were at the gunpoint of the cameras and behaved cautiously, no one could say that they were meeting, but the tenderness that they gave to each other was in the air and encouraged others to meet the soul mate, for whom they would want to move mountains. If they fought, then at most they could not talk for half an hour, one of them always came to another and childishly held out his little finger with the words “Make friends, make friends, Never, never break friends, if you do - You’ll catch the flu, And that will be the end of you”, and in the morning Mark and Donghyuck, who live next door, complained of banging on the wall and low sighs.
Johnny took a deep breath because he wasn’t sure guys like Ten needed a relationship. He seems to be married to the gym and pole. Meanwhile, Lee calmed Jung down and returned to the chair. Johnny looked up and asked hesitantly.
      - Well, since you already know everything about this, then ... Should I try?
Taeyong was silent for a minute, and then he spoke.
      - I think yes. It will be very difficult for you, but I am confident in you like in no one else.
      - To be honest, I’m terrified. I’ll be like a cow on ice ...
      - Love overpowers fear, - Taeyong whispered mysteriously and returned to his notes.
But really, what would he lose if he just tried? Yes, he will look ridiculous trying to climb the pole, but isn’t it worth it to make Ten laugh and cheer him up? When Doyoung was sad before the vlive, Johnny made him laugh in more ridiculous ways, and nothing, no one stopped loving him less because of this. Johnny decided that he should justify the feelings that arose in him six months ago, and he would rather get a refusal now than continue to sigh mindlessly for this guy.
      - You’re right, - Johnny whispered sharply and frightened Taeyong, who had already forgotten that Suh is still here, - I’ll take this first step towards winning the dancer’s heart, and either I’ll be refused, or I can bathe in his love.
\(T∇T)/ \(T∇T)/ \(T∇T)/
After speaking a little more with Tae and finally dispelling his indecision, Johnny returned to his room. Now he had to write to Ten about his desire to dance, but it was not as easy as he imagined. He could only hope that his message would not get lost among others. He opened a direct with Ten.
Hello! Saw yours last post about recruiting a pole dance group. Are there still free positions?
He wrote this with shaking hands, but was very glad that he dared to take such a step. Deciding to distract himself from waiting of the dancers answer, Suh turned on video. It was fourteen minutes to three o’clock in the morning when Johnny received an Instagram alert on his phone.
Hi Hi. Just in time for the last. When will it be convenient for you to come?
The American was as delighted with the message as the schoolgirl to whom her love was answered. He wanted to squeak, but remembered in time that it was now like night. So Johnny buried himself in the pillow and muttered something joyful in his own way and then exhaled deeply. For a long time he could not leave the message read.
I don’t know yet, because I have a work, but I would like to get to your group.
Johnny wrote to Ten, hit the send button and immediately fall asleep.
In the morning his message was read, but with no response. Johnny imagined thousand and one reasons of his stupidness and was already ready to cry in Taeyong’s shoulder but he was stopped by Mark, who pleased the older one to reconcile him with Donghyuck, because he accidentally deleted a game from theirs computer because of lack of memory, and now the youngest was mortally offended by him. During lunch and Johnny did not touch the phone again. And only when they went to their rooms, Johnny finally remembered the correspondence.
He had never run to the phone so quickly. Grabbing it, Johnny sighed with relief: Ten answered. He did not dare to open the message for a long time, fearing rejection, but then he remembered Taeyong’s words and said “Well, no matter what, i open” and read the message.
If you want, you can come to the introductory lesson tomorrow at twenty minutes to three in the afternoon.
Johnny could not believe his happiness: tomorrow he will see this charm boy live and that is why he became strange, because after that he happily jogged in the room and shouted - Who is sexy Frau? I am sexy Frau!!, without even thinking - Frau is a woman, but he can say so, he has such an event. He picked up the phone and wrote a message:
Oh, sure. What should I take with me?
The answer came quickly, as if Ten were expecting his message:
Yourself.
Johnny wondered if either Ten was as weird as he was, or that the message was not meant for him. But he decided not to upset himself and just hugged the phone, imagining tomorrow.
\(T∇T)/ \(T∇T)/ \(T∇T)/
Arriving at the address showed by Ten, Johnny doubted for a very long time: was this message really was intended for him? Maybe Ten is expecting to see someone another. In moments like this, Suh forgets that he is an idol. He sat down on the sofa in the hall and waited.
Johnny was drawn from his thoughts by a human shadow blocking the light in front of him. He looked up and gasped - it was Ten who smiled to him. Johnny sat with his mouth open, and Ten realized how much he impressed Suh - he silently pulled Johnny with him. As the man stood up and followed the dancer, he noticed his height advantage and noted the strength with which Ten was pulling him forward.
They didn’t walk long, but during that time Johnny had time to study him: he had beautifully tousled silver hair, he was wearing a big loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and he smelled a mix of a little sweat and fresh mint. Johnny was so shocked to be so close to Ten that he didn’t even notice bringing him to the training room: it looked much smaller than theirs room, but it was just as cozy here, and Johnny thought the soundproofing was better here than in theirs company’s gym.
- So what dance would you like to dance? - asked Ten with honey voice, closing the door behind him. Johnny became very uncomfortable, because they were together there, and then his “daddy” made itself felt, showing through the fabric of tight jeans. I thought about wearing something loose,- he thoughts, and then looked up and caught the curious gaze of a dancer who was grinning and looking as sly as in his video.
- I would like to.. With you in ... I mean, dance on the pylon, you do it so wonderful and easily, it’s incredible ... - Johnny explained, looking at the floor like a child guilty of something. Ten only nodded in response to his praise.
- Well, since you are so amazed, would you like to see one of my best dances? - asked Ten after a pause and, without waiting for an answer, turned to the speakers behind him to find the music. - You can sit there - Ten pointed on the rugs.
Johnny decided that sitting down would be the best decision he made today. He sat down on the mat and, as it seemed to him, imperceptibly corrected his disgrace in his pants, but Ten saw everything watching the American in the mirror. Dancer just grinned at this maneuver.
Ten finally found the song, turned it on and ran briskly to the pole. He shook his head, stretched, and the song “Baby Don’t Like It “played. Johnny didn’t even immediately realize that it was a song from his group, he just thought he had already heard it somewhere.
Ten’s shoulders were wider than the guys his height, but he was very slim and flexible. Every movement of his hips made Johnny squeal inside, his arms were thin and even seemed a little feminine, but when he grabbed the pole, Suh opened his mouth in surprise and wondering where so much power in such a body. The song was alluring, and the atmosphere which Ten created with his dance was such that you can cut the air with a knife. At first, Johnny was controlling himself, but then he gazed at the guy. He even rarely blinked so as not to miss a single movement. There was nothing vulgar in dancer’s movements, but the way he presented the dance left nothing in his thoughts, except sexual fantasies. The guy glides along the pylon like a snake, and that sly look pins to Suh. Ten definitely understood his sexuality and knew what to press on. From time to time Johnny pinched his own hand to calm down a little.
Alas, Ten’s dance came to the end, and Johnny again did not even notice. His throat was dry, he wanted to drink even more than then in the cafe. With this dance, Ten finally won Suh’s heart.
- What do you think about it? - asked Ten. He slid down the pylon and sat on the floor opposite Johnny.
- You’re just like God, - croaked American. The dancer only smiled at this.
- You can just call me Ten.
Johnny didn’t know what to say to that and just hummed. He thought it would be much easier in live communication. Ten seemed not even tense. But he apparently felt that the tension was still there and emanated from Johnny.
- Well, will you sit and be silent, or will you offer to go on a date? - Ten interrupted the silence, getting closer to Johnny. Suh did not expect such a turn.
- Sorry, what?
- Come on, they’ve already told me everything about your love for me. I am the best friend of one of your group mate, and he told me about your feelings, - the dancer laughed, standing up from the floor and sitting down next to Suh, who was crazy about the situation. - At first I didn’t believe it either, because I have been a fan of yours group for a long time, and my bias is a fan of my dances, - Ten continued to twitter while Johnny was digesting the information. He could just use one of his morons - classmates, but he sat for six months like an idiot and suffered?
Did it suddenly happen that the person he loved was also a fan? Well, it flabbergasted me. Johnny just couldn’t help but smile with happiness.
Interrupting Ten’s speech, Suh pulled him into a gentle kiss, gently hugging the guy by the shoulders, because he was afraid of breaking Ten’s back with his strength. As expected, this guy is wonderful in everything, even in the kiss he brought his individuality. When they pulled away from each other, Ten chuckled.
- Well, actually, at first I would prefer to go on a date, but I also like your version. But wait a minute.
Ten got to his feet and turned the key in the lock, and then came back, knelt down directly to Suh and crawled on top of him like a cat.
- So where did we stop?
\ (T∇T) / \ (T∇T) / \ (T∇T) /
After a hot relaxation in the training room, Ten and Johnny took a shower separately, and Suh, like a gentleman, invited the guy to dinner. They went to the ramen cafe, where they ordered a few servings of noodles because they lost a lot of calories. It turned out they were like two pears in a pod: Ten argued with Johnny, who would eat two portions of ramen faster. Suh would win, but so as not to upset Ten, he patiently waited for him to eat his portions first, and then, like a child, rejoiced for him, clutching his cheeks.
Until recently, Johnny did not even know how to talk to a guy, but now they tried the forbidden fruit, albeit in the hall, but they will definitely repeat this in all places, because the elder now knows how much Ten fell in love with him during this time. Johnny could not want more, but fate rewarded him for restraint with a gift in the form of this adorable kitten.
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the1918 · 3 years
Text
‘video’
Part 1/6 in the series entitled: 
“Lynne Finds Her 2005 Bandslash Livejournal and Changes All The Names to ‘Steve’ and ‘Bucky,’ With Little to No Additional Editing and it Actually Almost Works...?”
Title: “Video” (2.4k Words)
Fandom: MCR MCU
Pairing: Frank/Gerard + voyeur!Bob Steve/Bucky + voyeur!Tony
Rating: NC-17  E (Explicit) - because we go by Ao3 ratings nowadays
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own the members of My Chemical Romance. This never happened. Thank you, Ao3, for existing so that I no longer need to make these statements.
Tags: Top Bucky, Bottom Steve, voyeurism, sex tapes, anal sex, oral sex (blowjobs and rimming), throat fucking, some possible polyamory vibes at the end (that honestly did not translate well from the original bandom text, but I’m keeping it for ~artistic purity~)
Summary: Frank's email has a video attachment.  Bucky’s text has a video.
[A/N: As the series name suggests, I copied my own My Chemical Romance fanfiction from the mid-00′s and changed all the names. For the sake of purity for this little blogging performance piece, I changed little to no additional details, refused beta, and I made almost no adjustments for characterization except where the original details made absolutely no sense. Enjoy—I know 17-year old Lynne certainly did.]
***
When Tony plops down at the desk in his workshop after a long day and opens the text from Barnes, he doesn’t exactly know what he’s expecting, but it’s definitely not this.
It’s a video message. Barnes has sent videos before. Usually they contain footage of his cat—Tony thinks its name is ‘Albert’ or something equally as atrocious—or maybe hidden footage of Banner picking his nose when he thinks no one’s looking.
This is not one of those videos.
Initially, it’s nothing hugely alarming. Unusual, yes, but at first he’s just watching Steve sitting on the edge of what Tony recognizes as one of the beds in the tower—probably Barnes’ bed, if the literal rack of combat knives in the background is anything to go on—and Steve’s looking at the camera with some combination of a beet-red face and an expression like he’s trying not to smile.
Tony hears Bucky’s voice for the first time, apparently from behind the camera (phone, tablet, whatever). It’s low, scratchy, and it does not match the expression on Steve’s flushed and jittery face one bit.
“Tell Tony why you’re here, baby—“
“—You know he’s going to delete this the second he gets it—”
“—Tell him.”
Steve’s huffs and rolls his eyes, but then he’s straightening his face and actually looking at the camera. It’s kind of deadly, actually.
“I’m here because Bucky wants you to see me get fucked.”
He holds Tony’s gaze through the lens, three seconds of bright blue.
The screen goes black.
There isn’t much time for Tony to relearn how to take a proper breath.
When the image returns, it’s not just Steve on the edge of the bed anymore. It’s Steve’s bare back, long and muscular and broad across the shoulders with that unfairly small waist, and then Barnes moves back with the camera and makes sure Tony can see Steve’s full glory on his knees with his hands on the headboard.
Barnes is breathing heavy; Tony can tell. Barnes is making sure to let Tony see every inch of Steve’s skin as he begins running his own hands along it, finally coming to his ass. It’s so small that it’s almost cute, but it’s firm and round like Tony always thought it looked through Steve’s ugly chinos. Barnes suddenly grabs the left cheek roughly, and a moan catches in Steve’s throat.
At this point, Tony’s brain can finally process that he’s watching a sex tape. His cock is way ahead of him, already fighting against the fabric of his sweatpants.
Barnes spends a moment caressing the smooth curves of his husband’s hips, and then rearranges himself and the camera so Tony is staring directly at Steve from behind. His legs are spread, cock hanging between them, full and ready and taut. He can see Steve’s head resting on his forearms, burying his face in his own skin.
Barnes slides a finger down the crack of Steve’s ass, applying pressure to the rose-colored pucker he finds. Tony knows now that Steve is familiar with Brazilian waxing.
“You wouldn’t believe how tight this is, Stark.”
His hand moves to cup Steve’s balls lightly, eliciting a whimper from Steve’s and a twitch from Tony’s own dick.
“He’s so fucking good, especially like this, all spread out so you can see him.”
Tony is helpless but to agree.
At first, he doesn’t comprehend the video switching again, but he sees a flicker and the lighting change that inevitably comes with homemade pornography before he notices the slick look of Barnes’ vibranium fingers as he goes to slide one into Steve’s ass.
Steve keens, moving his hips to take more in.
“Yeah, fuck. Just like that, baby.”
Fuck it, Tony thinks. He begins palming his cock through the restriction of his pants, feeling only vaguely guilty about it at this point.
The movement of Barnes’ finger in and out of Steve is easy and wet and completely obscene. He takes a second one without any struggle, a third with a little whimpering but even more encouragement.
Steve loosens under Barnes’ ministrations. The fingers inside him are crooked to tease but not to satisfy, and Tony is starting to think that he could really fucking get into this when the scene changes—again.
Barnes is holding his own cock in his free hand, which, hey, appears to be about as thick and beefy as his Hydra lab-rat body. Tony is both jealous and wildly turned on at this discovery.
Steve’s head suddenly appears in the frame, upside down for a reason Tony can’t quite determine until he realizes he’s hanging it off the edge of the bed. He looks up at Barnes’ camera, smiles a very secret upside down smile, like he and Tony are the only people that know about it.
“He likes this. Watch.”
Like I could look away, Tony thinks as he fucking finally lets himself touch his cock without any fabric to come between.
Steve wets his own lips and Barnes moves forward, tucking himself down into Steve’s mouth. Tony has never seen it done like this in professional porn, not quite as this angle, and shit.
His mouth is vivid red and stretched beautifully around Barnes as the man holding the camera begins thrusting slow, his cock disappearing and reappearing, going a little bit deeper each time. Steve’s eyes are closed, and the sounds he’s making are enough to make Tony wonder who the one getting their rocks off here.
“He’s always asking me to fuck him like this, too. Wants me in him however he can get me. He’s such a fucking slut, Stark.”
Tony is starting to really, really like way Barnes says his name.
Barnes pulls out completely, and then goes forward again, all the fucking way, enough that Steve almost chokes, but not quite. Barnes is busy telling him what a ‘Good fucking boy’ he is while his balls brush over Steve’s face and eyes, and then the man on the bed is running a hand down to his own blushing cock and—
Homemade porn is dizzy. Barnes is not holding the camera anymore.
Tony knows this because everything he sees is pale legs apart in the air and Barnes’ mismatched hands holding them there, his head between them and sucking lightly on the tip of Steve’s cock. He’s completely nude, looking up at the lens from across the pale expanse of Steve’s rippling torso and chest (pink, pink fucking little nipples that Tony really wants to pinch). He holds the camera’s gaze when he lets Steve fall from between his lips and moves his head down to where Tony can hardly see his face.
He doesn’t really need to see it to know where he’s burying it.
“He tastes amazing, Stark, fuck.”
Steve’s hips snap up off the bed, into Barnes’ face, and Barnes just grabs his hips tight and holds him there. Fantastic wet slurping sounds are coming out of his speakers as Tony wonders if Barnes’ tongue is fucking Steve’s ass or maybe just tracing his opening with it. The thought of either makes his fist pump faster.
The sounds that are coming out of Steve’s mouth, loud this close to the camera, just motivate Barnes to be more aggressive. He does something with his tongue that Tony can’t see but it makes Steve let out a pained moan like a dying man, and his leaking cock jumps where it’s resting on his belly.
“Fuck! God, Bucky! Just fuck—“
The screen goes black for the first time since the beginning of the video. If this is the end, Tony thinks, if it’s over and he’s not going to get to see what Steve practically fucking promised him, not minutes ago, if there’s no more on the tape and Tony’s going to have to finish himself off to thoughts of what it might have looked like—
Steve’s flushed face is looking at the lens, focusing somewhere past Tony, like he might be pushing some buttons on the phone or adjusting some settings. It must be on a surface, or a tripod, Tony decides, because the frame is too still for a human hand to be shooting it. After a moment, Steve stops and walks away, over to the bed where Barnes is waiting for him, sitting up with his legs casually spread out in front of him.
Steve straddles him, his knees on either side and his arms loosely thrown around Barnes’ shoulders. They kiss, for the first time the entire video, and if Tony’s being honest, it’s one of the most intense things he’s seen yet. Their mouths move like they’re trying to consume each other whole, like they’re trying to suck the souls out of each other’s throats. Steve shivers visibly and Tony thinks it might be a bit much for him.
Barnes brings his arms around Steve’s waist and pulls him in tight, so he’s splayed all across his lap and open, open for Barnes to reach down and run his fingers across his boy’s entrance lightly. Tony can see he’s already taken care of the condom when Steve starts rubbing the lube he poured into his hand onto Barnes’ cock, slow and firm in a way that makes Barnes moan and stop him, like if he goes anymore, he’ll shoot too soon.
Tony’s breath catches when finally, finally, he sees Barnes position himself for Steve to sink down onto. Steve’s head tilts back and his mouth falls, shameless and wanting as he lets Barnes into his body.
There’s a period of adjustment, where Steve looks like he’s just savoring the feel of his husband’s cock, full and thick inside him, before Barnes gets a rhythm going. He moves Steve up and down with his grip on his hips, thrusting up into him simultaneously. The light strain in his muscles is gorgeous, his arm glittering in the dim light.
Steve’s moans are all Tony can hear, loud and decadent in conjunction with the look on his face, all slack in ecstasy and eyes shut tight. He’s putting on a show, Tony can tell, but it’s too damn convincing for him to care.
Barnes slows for a second, but he keeps his hips pinned to Steve’s ass, rotating small circles inside him. He sets his chin on his lover’s shoulder and whispers into his ear hot, fucking criminal.
“Look at the camera, baby. Let Tony see your pretty face while I’m fucking you.”
And oh God, Steve kisses Barnes sweet and slow for a second before his head is turning, looking over his shoulder at the lens with most coy fucking look Tony has ever seen. He’s biting his lip and his mouth is still so fucking red and bright and everything about him, from the tight lines of his hips to the sandy blond hair dusting his thighs, takes Tony’s breath away.
Everything from then on is a blur. The video begins cutting more sporadically, and one moment Tony is looking at Steve’s body stretching around Barnes’ wide erection while Barnes holds the camera, and the next he’s watching Steve’s cock and balls bouncing against his abdomen while Barnes drives into him, hard and unforgiving.
Somewhere around, “Fuck Bucky, baby, you fuck me so good,” Tony starts to lose his grip on his own cock, hand sweaty and slippery from exertion. He’s getting close, and Barnes is swearing more often and when Steve said Tony was going to watch him get fucked, he meant get fucked.
The phone camera is settled on the mattress, moving with them, and Barnes is taking Steve from behind, chest and middle touching every inch of skin on Steve’s back. He reaches around to encircle the other man’s cock in his hand, and Steve groans obscenely.
“Stark wants to watch you come, Stevie. You want that? You want to show him how you shoot all over our nice new sheets?”
Steve’s fingers grasp the comforter tightly and Barnes’ hand slows to a steady, dragging pace. It’s the kind of pull that Tony knows is what makes slow and careful sex so intense. Steve is shaking.
“Get dirty for me, baby. Tony wants to see how dirty you can be,” and Steve comes, just like that, thick white ropes falling onto the crisp linens below. He’s swearing and begging and Barnes straightens, just staring and watching with a hand steadying the small of Steve’s back. He’s got an expression on his face like Tony isn’t the only one seeing Steve exactly like this for the first time.
And Tony’s finally letting go, the tight clench in his gut making it too hard to wait any longer. His vision swims, and for a minute he thinks he can’t see, but then he’s watching Steve look like a puddle of exhausted limbs on the bed while Barnes is fucking him within an inch of his existence, using Steve’s body and becoming this growly, animal thing.
Tony can tell when Barnes comes by the expression on Steve’s face, this self-satisfied smile that tugs on his swollen lips. Barnes collapses on top of him, kissing his back franticly and licking the sweat from it. He’s manic, grabbing Steve’s hair a little roughly and twisting his head to meet his lips, both of them a complete hot mess.
Never in his life has Tony seen anything more mercilessly beautiful.
The video cuts once more. Tony’s hand and pants are covered in his own come, and he’s finally starting to get his breathing under control. This time, the camera is on the night stand. He’s looking at the two figures lying twisted together on the bed in the nearly dark room, and he can make out the slow rise and fall of their chests and the sound of soft, moist kisses. This part, he feels like maybe he should look away. Like maybe it’s not meant for him to see.
Steve’s voice is the one that speaks first.
“Are you really going to send it to Tony?”
“I thought you wanted to?”
“I do! I do, I just—I want to know that you’re okay with him seeing me—us. Together like that.”
“He’s Stark, Stevie. Tony.”
“I know. “
There’s a long moment then, and it’s just silence. It’s just two men holding each other and talking without tongues, and it makes Tony feel like he’s never known fear or indifference in his life.
“Sometimes I like to share you with the people we love, Steve—“
—and Tony is closing out the video message before he has the chance to think twice.
*
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(i told you the ending did not translate well from the original)
See [Part 2] of this terrible, terrible art project
my actual steve/bucky work: [x]
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letsnotdoanything · 4 years
Text
A snowflake
Hello, I’m back with a Jae scenario! I swear, he’s not even my bias but he seems to fit every idea I have;;
Enjoy!
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Pairing: vlogger!Jae x reader
Genre: Fluffy fluff
Words: 1,7K
“What’s up, guys? It’s ya boy Jae!” He said his usual line, smiling brightly. He was in his apartment, holding the camera above him with one hand, the other one used to gesturing while he talks. Jae always wanted to be known at some point. He was very bubbly since he was a kid, he loved being around people, making them laugh and laughing with them. That’s why he started making videos on youtube, and he couldn’t imagine a better way to make a living. Of course, it wasn’t enough at first, he had to work so he could pay the bills and eat, but as the number of subscribers was growing, he finally started earning enough to call it his full-time job. “Well, this video is going to be a little different. Tomorrow’s my and Y/N’s anniversary, so I’m planning a special gift for her. Stay tuned.” He covered the lens with his hand, turning off the recording. That present was going to be much different from any other you’ve ever got.
- “Well, what do you think about staying home this year?” You were in the middle of a phone talk, discussing what to do for your anniversary because both of you didn’t have any good ideas. You thought about what Jae said and actually, it sounded like a good idea. Just you two, movies, snacks and blankets. What else do you need? You agreed and decided to do it at his place since he had a tv in his bedroom, which meant that you could lay in bed instead of the couch. You talked for a while, agreeing to meet at 6 PM the next day and ended the call. You lied on your back, thinking how much you can’t wait for this moment to come. It was amazing how he still made you feel butterflies in your stomach after all these years, and you hoped it would never end.
- Jae turned on his camera before opening the door. You were standing there, a bag with take-out food and your favorite fluffy blanket in your hand. When you saw that he was recording, you immediately made an exaggerated-superstar pose, which he laughed at. He loved your weird sense of humor, it made you unique. He closed the door after you came in and hugged you. “You ready for the best movie night in your life?” He asked jokingly and you nodded your head with a smile. “I’m always ready.” Little did you know that this was going to be much more than the best movie night in your life.
- You were finishing the take-out you brought and answering some fan questions, some of them about Jae and other ones about both of you. “Okay, since our food is gone, this is going to be the last one for now.” He said, putting the empty box on the ground next to him. “How did you guys meet?” He read the question out loud. It wasn’t the first time someone asked this, but he knew that if he starts talking about it, it might take a while, and he didn’t want to change the topic of his videos. However, since this one was all about the two of you, he finally could tell his fans the story. “It was pretty awkward. Like, I would never say that we’ll end up being together. I didn’t even think that we’re going to talk at all.” You said, recalling that moment from almost 5 years earlier, which wasn’t exactly the way you imagined you would meet your significant other. “Well, yeah, me neither. So we were both in college at that time, in the senior year. The finals were coming, so all of us were regular in the campus library. Well, that day wasn’t the best for Y/N, she was stressed out, plus her friend, which wasn’t a diligent student, decided to not let her study and try to take her out. Ahe kept annoying her by poking her cheeks and whining while she tried to read at least a few chapters from the history book. The friend gave up after some time and just walked away, which was the time I got there. She was sitting in my usual seat, next to a socket. I wanted to ask if she might move one seat because my laptop battery was out and I’ve had all of my notes there, but she snapped before I could even open my mouth.-” “Ah, it’s so embarrassing…” you covered your face with your hands. You didn’t mean to do it, but your friend did annoy the shit out of you. “She was like <I told you to fucking stop interrupting me! Why can’t you le- oh shit I’m so sorry>. She stood up and bowed while saying sorry like 15 times? I was so confused I just watched her doing that, not knowing what should I do. After some time I said that it’s okay, I only wanted to ask if I could take her seat since I had to charge my laptop. Her cheeks were so red I thought she had a fever or something!” You couldn’t stop blushing now either, knowing that hundreds of thousands of people now knew how fiery you can get. “We switched seats and went silent for a few next hours. After this time she started gathering her things and heading out of the library, and I was a little upset because I didn’t even ask for her number or something. But a moment later she came back and asked if I could give her my number, so we could go out for an apologetic coffee. Of course, I did, and I saved it in her phone as "the interrupting socket guy”. I thought she was going to bury herself down out of embarrassment.“ He laughed looking at you, who still wanted to hide as much as you could. "Okay, let’s stop here. I won’t stand anymore.” You said showing your red face, desperately wanting to change the subject. Oh god, that was the most humiliating moment of your life.
- “Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” You said when Frozen 2 credits showed up on the screen. You stood up and went straight to the bathroom, where you put your pajamas earlier. When Jae was sure that you locked the door and turned the water on, he took his camera and started recording. “Okay, Y/N is showering right now. When she comes back, I’m going to give her this bad boy.” He turned the camera to show the viewers a big box wrapped in a [your favorite color] paper with a pretty bow. He placed the camera behind a flower pot, so you couldn’t see it and pressed his finger to his lips as if he wanted to ask for silence. Soon, you came out of the bathroom and came back to his bedroom. The first thing you saw was Jae smiling brightly, his smile almost touching his ears. Then you saw a big box next to him. “Wow, is that for me?” He only nodded, patting the mattress so you come and unwrap it, and you did so. He tried his best not to show how nervous he was, and trust me, he was very nervous. Your expression changed to a mix of confusion and amusement when you opened the box to see… another box. You chuckled and opened the second box. You were used to his jokes, so you weren’t surprised. Well, not until you saw the third box. And the fourth one. And the fifth one… “Okay Jae, if that’s not the last one you’re not getting your gift.” You joked but tried to sound as serious as you could and don’t break into a smile. You noticed that his expression changed, from (what you thought) pure happiness, to nervousness. A little scared of what could be inside, you opened the fifth box carefully and saw another box. This time though, it was a black, leather box around half the size of your fist. You looked at him a little shocked since you weren’t sure if that was a piece of normal jewelry or something more. When you opened it, you saw a ring with a tiny diamond snowflake. You stared at it for a moment, and when you turned your head back to Jae, he was kneeling in front of you. “Y/N I-… I’ve wanted to do this for some time now, but I never could gather myself to do it. But since I started planning it, I couldn’t stop thinking how bad I want to officially call you mine. I didn’t think that my college crush would end up being my girlfriend, but you don’t even know how happy I am it happened. I can’t imagine my life without you, because you’re the first thing I want to see when I wake up and the last thing I want to see when I go to sleep. I want to be with you through my every victory and every loss because you make everything feel better. I chose the ring with a snowflake because you make me as happy as a kid seeing the first snow. Y/N Y/S/N, will you let me make you as happy as I am right now and become my wife?” At that moment you couldn’t even see the ring nor his face, because you were already crying since the beginning of his speech. You were so shocked, happy and touched that you just couldn’t keep all of these emotions inside. You sat there now trying to calm down and be able to reply properly, but the stream of tears just didn’t seem to end. He began feeling anxious because of your lack of response. “Babe-” He was cut off by you jumping on him and making you two fall down on the carpet. You whispered a weak “yes” before attaching his lips to yours. The kiss lasted for a few seconds until you moved back. When you saw his red, watery eyes you couldn’t stop the tears from falling again. You sat up and so did he, just to hug you again and say “I love you so damn much.”. He pulled away and put the ring on your finger. “I love you too, Jae.”
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tyrustrash · 5 years
Text
Focus
Picture day, the best and worst day for any typical high schooler. Well, that may be a stretch, but it is very stressful. Spending hours the day before, possibly the week before if the student has picky parents, picking out the perfect outfit. This one photo would be the lasting memory years later in the school's most treasurable item: the sacred yearbook. The yearbook isn't just a book of photos throughout the school year, it's also a way of expressing who you are and what you did. It's a way of letting people know that you made an impact in some way. Students at Grant High wait in lines in the gym, waiting to get their picture taken. Most, if not all, were focused on their hair, makeup, and outfit. Girls had mirrors out, adjusting their hair and applying more makeup than what was needed. They straightened their dresses so they can look as perfect as they wanted to. The guys gelled and styled their hair. TJ's turn is approaching and he is as cool as ever, well, cool for him. He was one of the few students that didn't stress over the perfect outfit. Instead, he grabbed his freshest and newest hoodie that his mom approved and wore that with a pair of basketball shorts. Sure, people glanced at him and made comments under their breath, but TJ shrugged it off. There was no use in worrying about the lower half since the camera wouldn't catch it. Besides, he has to switch outfits almost immediately becuase he has to take group pictures and didn't want to worry about his outfit getting messed up. "Next!" The camera man shouted. The lined moves up and TJ sat in the seat. The blue backdrop was the same level of basic as every other year. The color didn't match TJ's outfit, but hey, he gets what he gets. TJ adjusts himself on the small wooden stool they are given to sit on. He looks at the camera man, who is getting the lights and laptop ready. TJ looks around the gym and spots his Cyrus in front of the bleachers. Now out of his calm state, TJ became nervous. He starts blushing and plays with the bottom of his hoodie. "You ready?" TJ looks up and sees the camera man ready to get on with the picture. He nods and smiles softly, trying not look like a fool in love. With the sound of the camera going off, it was done. The ultimate picture of the entire school year was done. Hopefully his mom won't notice his total heart eyes. Getting up to let the next student get their picture done, TJ jogged past Cyrus, but fully keeping his eyes on him, and went to the locker room. He nearly ran into the wall because he kept thinking how cute Cyrus looks with a camera around his neck. The wall didn't hit him, but the realization did. Realization that he would soon sit on the bleachers in front of his crush and try not to look like a fool. Entering the locker room, TJ went to his locker and took out his basketball jersey. The other boys on the team were already either changed or in the process of changing. Lyle, a typical benchwarmer, came in and took his locker next to TJ. "So," Lyle started saying. His jersey numbr is 00, which is the amount of time he played this year. He is what the others like to call an enthusiast. He didn't care that he practically never plays, he was just happy that he is on the team. "Did you see who's taking the group pictures? How are you going to control yourself?" TJ chuckles. His hoodie is already off and is putting on his jersey, which is number 01, which he deserves. He is the captain and most skilled player, on the boys team. "Very funny." However, he doesn't chuckle for long. He starts panicking a little once he knows he would have to look perfect in front of Cyrus. "I don't know if I can do it." Brandon came from behind in his number 21 jersey. "Calm down, bro. Everything's going to be fine. Just as long as you don't drool all over your jersey and stare at him the whole time." That didn't help. TJ breathes harder and sits on the bench in the center of the room. Lyle and Brandon sit on both sides of him. Each place a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright." Lyle tries to tell him. "First crushes can be hard and confusing, but no big deal. Just tell him how you feel." "He can't do that!" Brandon said with a slightly raised voice. "Why not?" "He doesn't know if Cyrus rolls that way." "Have you seen him? It's like he's practically telling everyone he likes dudes." "Don't make assumptions." TJ shakes his head and stands up. "Stop it." Brandon and Lyle stop and look at their friend. "Don't talk about him like that. He's special to me." "Dude," Lyle says. "We get that he's your friend, but he needs to know the truth." TJ frowns. "That's what I'm woried about. Worried that even if I tell him I'm gay, that he might not accept me." "Oh, he'll accept you." The coach then comes in and blows his whistle. "Time to get this over with." The boys start to exit the room. TJ stays behind for a second and looks at his phone. The lockscreen is of the swing set where he and Cyrus had their first real heart to heart conversation, and where he realized he had feelings for his friend. He puts the phone in his pocket and ran out. TJ walks out of the locker room to see the coach assigning seats. Quickly, he took the center position of the front row. Must've been a good choice because the coach didn't move him. Instead, he handed TJ a basketball to hold. Coach then went to the end of the front row and stood with his hands behind his back. Cyrus spots TJ and waves. TJ waves back, but with a goffy smile. Lyle pokes his back, which Brandon swats his arm. As Cyrus prepares his camera, TJ couldn't stop staring at his friend. Cyrus wears a simple green button up with khakis. Simple yet adorable. Although he hates to admit it, but TJ does drool a little. A laugh from Brandon snaps TJ out of his daze and wipes the drool away. Just as Cyrus lifts the camera up to his eye, he caught TJ through the lens. TJ is starting right at him with the biggest smile. Cyrus chuckles and winks at him. This causes TJ to resort to a state of shock. Not being able to control anything, the balls drops and boucnes across the gym. Coach blows his whistle and signals for TJ to retrieve the ball. TJ does what he's ordered and runs to the ball. Before heading back to the team, he simply stands in place and watched Cyrus adjust the lens. He saw his friend stick his hip out as sassy as can be, and it almost made TJ drop the ball again. The sound of the whistle snaps TJ back to reality again. He runs back to his spot on the bleachers and smiles a little too hard, again. Cyrus takes the picture and the team starts heading back to the locker room. TJ remains seated on the front row. Cyrus notices and takes a picture. TJ shakes his head. "What was that for?" "You looked so cute sitting there." They both blush. TJ gets up and walks to him. "You think I'm cute?" "How can anyone not think so?" Both laugh. "Wanna meet at the Spoon after school?" "It's a date." TJ walks back to the locker room. He nearly trips over his feet because he kept being distracted by looking back at Cyrus. Before he can turn back the right direction, he sees Cyrus looking back at him.
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mattzerella-sticks · 5 years
Text
Music City (musician/singerDean/photographerCas, 4.4k, set in Nashville)
Cas, a famous photographer, returns home after a long trip taking photos for his latest project. He wants nothing more than to spend the next day relaxing. His plans change when an enchanting melody is heard from outside. Do his plans have to change, or can he work around the handsome musician who stumbled onto his property?
(Read on Ao3)
           The smell of grilled cheese wafts from the griddle and up towards Cas’s nose, triggering a smile and a soft sigh. He shifts it around with the spatula, delighting in the way the bread and butter sizzles and the cheese melts. It’s not the first grilled cheese he’s ever had, but this meal had become part of a ritual of sorts. Grilled cheese is always the first thing he makes when he comes home after a long trip.
           It started when he was younger, because of an opportune accident when his family returned from a weeklong vacation in Appalachia. There was barely anything in their kitchen save the simplest ingredients, so his mother set to work on making seven grilled cheeses for their large family. Time has dwindled the amount of sandwiches needed to one, for himself. And though it’s been years since that first grilled cheese, the sight of it, the smell, and when it’s ready the taste, will fully cement in the reality that he’s home.
           Cas glances around his kitchen, taking it all in. When he got in late last night, he didn’t have anything in mind except his bed. Dropping his bags at the door and shedding his clothes in a messy trail his eyes shut before he hit the mattress. He woke up close to noon, later than usual. Unfortunately, while the teen he paid to make sure his plants were watered and furniture dusted, they hadn’t restocked his fridge nor pantry. Forcing himself into an outfit, Cas drove to the closest supermarket. He didn’t buy much, however, only getting what was necessary for the grilled cheese. He won't be leaving again tomorrow.
           In fact, he doesn’t plan on going on a trip for a long time. His most recent one was already longer than he realized, the fifth month of touring the states dragging on deliriously. He would have went insane in his camper if not for his lovely dogs, Birdie and Bee. Birdie is an American Foxhound, and one of the sweetest girls he knows. She’s also famously lazy. There are countless moments where Bee chased him around in an open field while Birdie lounged wherever the sunlight was strongest. Bee, his Anatolian Shepherd Dog, was Birdie’s opposite. She always needed to be moving in some way, even if just wagging her tail as he drove along the open highways.
           They were as glad to be home as he was. He let them out earlier to roam his wide back yard. His house had no fencing, preferring his home like he did his countryside, wide and sprawling. Why he chose a place so close to the woods it practically rests on the border between civilization and the wild. It might be worrisome to have dogs on their own out there, but Cas trained them well. Even Bee, as stubborn and explorative as she was, never strayed too far from home. His dogs were safe on their own for a while.
           Turning the stove off, his mouth watered. The wait was almost over, and his food would be ready. Cas, mad with hunger, imagines a beautiful guitar accompanying his creation: soft strums and hypnotic chords complementing the beams of light pouring in from a nearby window. Shaking his head, Cas realizes the music wasn’t coming from his imagination but nearby. It becomes clearer where when a whiskey-smooth voice accompanies the strumming. Distracted from his food, Cas follows the music towards his open back door.
           He walks to the edge of his deck, captivated by the sight below.
           A man in a denim shirt and khakis plays his guitar to an audience of two, Birdie and Bee. Birdie rests on the stranger’s leg with her eyes closed while Bee wriggles her back along the grass a few inches away, next to a pair of Birkenstocks he’s sure belong to the mystery musician. There are many thoughts running through his head, but the one that takes precedence over all is, ‘I need to take a picture.’
           He rushes into his house and over towards his bags, glad his contempt for cleaning means his equipment isn't packed away. Unzipping the case, Cas takes out and readies his camera. The large, black piece of carbon was quite expensive – but a necessary cost to be able to do his job. Switching out the memory card and fixing the lens, Cas hurries back to find the scene like he left it. Returning to the edge of his deck, Cas leans over and begins taking pictures.
           The lens snap and flutter, the whirring sound of it setting itself up for another a constant flurry as he presses persistently on the button. He tries different angles, focusing on certain parts and blurring the others. In all the photos, the man’s face remained hidden. No matter where he turned, Cas couldn’t get a good shot of it. Until the musician glanced up, noticing Cas for the first time. He swung his face Cas’s way, cheesing for the camera.
           It nearly slipped from his hands. He is unprepared for the sheer gorgeousness presented to him. Looking at his face is like staring at a mountain or canyon wall, the lines carved in by God themselves. Freckles dust his pale skin like a starry night, bright on his cheeks and hidden behind the shadow of his beard. His green eyes reminded Cas of a summer, years ago, in the wilds of Montana. He was there for his first professional photo, the shot taken underneath a large tree where he captured its overarching verdant canopy. Somehow his eyes shine brighter than even Mother Nature’s wondrous creations. His lips stretch wide and snow-white teeth peek out from behind plush lips. Recovering his breath, Cas continues his task. After a few more pictures, he sets the camera down. Now, seeing him without the barrier of his camera lens, Cas is aware even the high definition cannot do him justice.
           “Howdy,” the man says, still strumming, “I take it these hounds are yours?”
           Cas nods. Clearing his throat, he says, “Yes… as is this house. And this yard.”
           “Figured,” the man chuckles along with the notes he plays, southern drawl sliding along the strings, “I doubt a robber would take the time to shutterbug like you just did.”
           Blushing, Cas grips tighter at his camera. “Do you do this often?” he asks, “Playing in stranger’s yards?”
           “No,” he smirks, “Sometimes I sit at the park and play. Today I needed a change of scenery.”
           “What brought you to my neck of the woods?”
           “Well, I was looking for some inspiration, so I drove out to the woods to hike a little. With the weather warming up I figured it was as good a time as any.”
           “Spring in Nashville is always a lovely time,” Cas agrees, smiling, “It’s why I made sure to come back as it was starting.”
           “You travel a lot?”
           Cas nods. “For business, for pleasure… luckily my career path allows me to combine the two often.”
           “Doing what you love… the true American dream,” the man agrees, “Anyway, I was minding my own business, notes flying around my head like mosquitos when I spotted the strangest thing. This dog over here,” he gestures to Bee, “whipping up a storm something fierce.”
           “So you followed her?”
           “I’ve always been told I’m too curious for my own good,” the man says, shrugging, impishly glancing back up at Cas, “got me into all sorts of trouble. Although I wouldn’t so much as say it was trouble… call ‘em interesting opportunities.” He stops suddenly, frowning. “Where are my manners? The name’s Dean.”
           “Cas.”
           “That’s a pretty name,” Dean says, “It wouldn’t happen to be short for something would it?”
           “It would…” He doesn’t say anything further, enjoying the confusion boiling beneath Dean’s brows.
           “You ain’t gonna tell me?”
           “You seem like a creative fellow,” Cas tells him, “I’m sure you can figure it out.”
           “Maybe I’ll have a better chance at guessing if I could get a better look at you?”
           It’s an invitation, as plain as the color beige. But for what, Cas does not know. He’s seen the gleam in Dean’s eyes before from men and women alike. It’s been forever since he entertained the idea of returning it. He does more than that.
           “Sure,” Cas says, “Let me go grab my lunch, though. Haven’t eaten at all today.”
           “Of course,” Dean says, plucking at his guitar once more, “Wouldn’t want someone as handsome as you to starve on me.”
           He’s lucky to duck back inside, so his blush can roam free across the prairies of his face. Cas breathes deep while he leaves his camera on his table and sets his grilled cheese on a plate, corralling his emotions under control before stepping outside once more.
           Now that he’s past his deck, Cas can appreciate todays’ weather. There’s a slight breeze rolling along, cooling the very present heat radiating from the sun. It warms everything he touches, from his exposed shoulders and legs to the very grass beneath his feet that tickles his toes. Cas sits cross-legged across from Dean, Birdie between him. She lifts her head, blinking at him, and then lays it back down where it was.
           Dean laughs, stroking her fur. “She’s not much of a guard dog, is she?”
           “Birdie moves for no one.”
           “Birdie,” Dean repeats, smiling, “Cute name. What about the livewire behind us?” Bee, growing bored of playing in the grass now chases a butterfly. She yips and bites at where it was, never quite catching it. They laugh at her antics.
           “Her name is Bee,” Cas says.
           “Birdie and Bee…” Dean hums, thinking, “Your name wouldn’t happen to be related to the outdoors, now would it?”
           “Nope,” Cas chuckles, “Besides, I don’t think there’s anything related to nature that begins with ‘c’, ‘a’, and ‘s’.”
           Dean frowns, “There’s gotta be. Like…” In his silence he plays a simple melody. “I can’t think of anything.”
           “I could always just tell you if you –“
           “No, no, you said to guess, so I’mma guess. Give me a minute.”
           Cas bites into his sandwich, moaning around it. Chewing, he opens his eyes to find Dean staring at him. His fingers paused halfway through a strum, the strings pulled back tight and waiting for release. Freckles are much more prominent as his cheeks tint red, from what Cas can only guess is an extended amount of time in the sun. He skews his head to the side and swallows. “Everything all right?”
           Shaking from his trance, Dean offers a wobbly smile. “Sure, it’s just my thinking face…” He looks to the sandwich, “Must be a really good snack?”
           He shrugs, “I’m not the best cook… but who can screw up a grilled cheese?”
           “My brother can,” Dean chuckles, “I swear, if I wasn’t such a gift in the kitchen we'd have been helpless.”
           “You cook a lot?”
           “Had to, at first. Busy dad… dead mom… got real creative growing up. But I enjoy it, so I never really minded.”
           “Did you take over a lot of what your mother did after her passing?”
           “Someone had to,” Dean says, bitter notes of melancholy tainting the music. The notes drag out, much longer and heavier. “Dad did all he could to make sure we had a roof over our head… some nights shuffling through the door still covered in rust and oil. Other times he was as drunk as a skunk and passed out in his truck.”
           Not knowing how to respond, Cas shrugs out his best attempt at levity. “Sounds like the kind of background befitting a folk musician.”
           His often-faulty sense of humor works, and brings a smile back onto his face. “Yeah, good to know my messed up childhood can get me through an album or two.” They laugh, the music from Dean’s guitar once again sweet like fresh honey.
           “Have you been at this long?”
           “No, just started almost a year ago when I moved here.”
           “Really?” Cas asks, surprised, “I mean, you sound fantastic. And this – talking to me, playing so beautifully – I can barely eat and read a book at the same time.”
           Dean snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, when you spend three decades with an instrument you pick up a few things.”
           “Thirty years? That’s a long time…” Cas bites his lip. “If you don’t mind me asking, why choose now to begin your music career.”
           He sighs, as if Cas’s question was as familiar as a recurring nightmare. “Didn’t really get much of a chance, earlier on. Barely graduated high school… and I had to get a job to help support my brother and his dreams of being some big fancy lawyer.”
           “Is he?”
           “Yeah, out in California.” Dean smiles, eyes glossing over like his mind wanders out of the present and into a memory. “Didn’t actually have to use any of the money I saved up, really. Won a huge scholarship to a school out there on the coast. Gave him some so he could find a nice place to live, but the rest went untouched.”
           “I’m guessing something else happened, though?”
           Dean nods, a chord jarring the peace blanketing them. “Dad got sick… liver problems. Had to funnel Sammy’s college fund into his medical bills and everything. Those were some pretty heavy years, especially towards the end… if it weren’t for…” he draws into himself at that. Birdie notices, once more sitting up. She moves, stepping over Dean’s leg to curl up even closer to him. Dean breaks from the past when he feels her slide into the open space between his legs. Smiling, he pets her.
           Cas furrows his brow, chewing. “If it weren’t for what?”
           “Around the same time my dad was fading, and he was all wired up, a woman was brought in. She and my dad’s room were pretty close. Every day another woman and a small boy would visit, checking up on her. Sometimes the boy would sit by his lonesome in the hall outside with the door closed, and I’d get up from my seat and chat with him. There wasn’t a lot I could do there while dad slipped in and out of consciousness, so I made a friend. After seeing him for probably the fourth or fifth time, I got the story from a nurse.”
           “The lady in the other room was his mom, the woman visiting with him someone from the State. It didn’t look like she was going to pull through, and they were trying to get the paperwork set up to put him into the system.”
           “That’s… that’s awful.”
           “I know,” Dean says, “S’why I didn’t let it happen.” At Cas’s wide eyes, Dean giggles. “Let me explain! I found the social worker and talked with her about adopting little Jack. She wasn’t sure, but introduced me to the mom, Kelly, anyway. We hit it off well enough she agreed to let me take over as Jack’s guardian.”
           Cas smiles, “You’re a good man, Dean.”
           Compliment unexpected, Dean flits his gaze away and preoccupies his twitching fingers with his guitar once more. “No, ‘m not… just a guy who knows what it’s like to lose a mom young. It’s not like there weren’t any troubles… raising a child’s a lot of hard work.”
           “I wouldn’t know,” Cas shrugs, “I was the youngest out of five siblings. When my parents had me it seemed almost effortless.”
           “You telling me you never sowed the seeds in your youth?”
           Cas shakes his head. “There was never any time or desire… my brothers and sisters have kids – being an uncle is more than enough to satisfy my cravings for child rearing.”
           “I wouldn’t trade it for the world, though,” Dean sighs, drifting off again, “Raising Jack, being there through all the highs and lows… it was the right choice for me. If I didn't have Jack I don't know what spiral I would have turned down...” Cas agrees, watching as Dean glows with an unknown shimmer as he thinks about his son. The sight nearly makes Cas wish he did have the urge to start a family. But, as he reminds himself, the stars never aligned to birth that need. In all his travels, he came across nothing that could change his mind. Dean, however, has him considering many new things today.
           “How old is Jack now?”
           “College age,” Dean tells him, “Flew the nest to the same place my baby bro went to, actually.”
           “Interesting,” Cas hums, “So I’m guessing it was because your nest was so ‘empty’ that you decided to become a musician?”
           “Not at first,” Dean admits, embarrassment coloring his face, “When Jack left I kinda… floated. Didn’t really have much going on in my life ‘cept my guitar, my car, and my job. When he came back for winter break I had nothing to tell. It was him who encouraged me to make the change. Said that all his life I kept pushing him and inspiring him to chase after his dreams, that I should have the chance as well.”
           “His entire winter break we puzzled over things I could do. Up in the attic he found an old leather notebook I used to write in from time to time. Nothing special, some dumb lyrics and song ideas… he thought they had potential. Especially when he sent them to Sam…” Dean rolls his eyes, smiling the way Cas does when exasperated with his family. “Said with the way I play I could be a musician. ‘Cept I wasn’t gonna go join them out in California… that’s not my style. Nashville… now that’s another story.”
           “I’m very happy that’s the case,” Cas says, grinning, “Otherwise we may never have met.”
           “Yeah, yeah…” Dean meets his gaze for a beat before dropping it. “Look, ‘m sorry if I took up your time. Pretty sure you weren’t expecting to listen to me spittin’ to the wind.”
           “You’re right, I didn’t…” Cas tells him, “but I’m glad I did.”
           Chuckling, Dean still doesn’t look up from his guitar. “Good. Because usually I have to charge people to hear my stories.”
           “And I don’t usually allow my backyard to become a concert space…” They settle into a sort of silence after that. Dean provides an upbeat soundtrack while Cas finishes his meal. He offers up a bite to Dean who tears into it with a grin. Chewing, Dean sings. “Makes a mean grilled cheese/As light as the breeze/Cas won’t tell me his name/Because it’s probably lame!”
           “Shut up,” Cas giggles, shoving at Dean. He continues, even louder and with worse lyrics than before. When Dean rhymes his name with a body part, he gives in. “Castiel.”
           Dean stops, “What?”
           “My full name… it’s Castiel.”
           “Castiel… that’s –“
           “Weird?”
           Dean smiles, reaching over to squeeze his ankle. “Pretty. Like you.” Despite Cas’s blush, Dean carries on. “So? Name like that’s got to have a meaning, don’t it?”
           He nods and clears his throat. “It’s the name of an angel.”
           “Religious.”
           “My family were more fanatical about the culture than the actual religion,” he says, “Both being professors of art history at Columbia.”
           “New York City?” Dean asks, “You’re a city boy? What’s a boy from the Big Apple doing down here in Nashville? I thought that place was supposed to have everything.”
           “It has too much,” Cas says, “And that’s why I moved. I prefer a… simpler life, closer to nature. Connecting with it and photographing it has always been a passion of mine since I was small. My parents would take us on yearly vacations and I’d always run off to explore on my own. Mom used to say I wasn’t happy unless there was dirt on every inch of my clothes…”
           “We wouldn’t have gotten along when we were young,” Dean decides, smirking, “I hated getting dirty. Would freak out if the slightest drop of mud splashed onto my shirt. Had to get over that pretty fast when I became a mechanic.”
           “And where do you stand on it now that you’re a musician?” Cas asks.
           Dean drags it out, tapping arrhythmically at his chin. “’M used to it, I suppose, especially now that I’ve moved. The worse I had to deal with back in Kansas was dust. Here in Tennessee there’s a lot more ways of getting down and dirty.” His wink doesn’t go unnoticed, and Cas responds with a hearty chuckle.
           “Yes, I suppose.” Cas leans back on his hands, stretching under the sunlight. He feels Dean’s gaze wash over him, enjoying the spotlight. Cas can’t pretend he didn’t hear the stumble of notes when he puffed his chest and craned his neck to the side.
           They sit like that for a while. Cas listening as Dean stops playing randomly and begins singing a song. It’s enchanting, a haunting melody about growing up too son and carrying the weight of the world on one’s shoulders. About being unable to replace what was taken, but still trying your best. When Dean’s voice trails off, Cas turns to him again.
           “You have a beautiful voice.”
           “It’s okay…” Dean says, frowning, “I mean, for my age yeah. There’s a lot of people who’ve been doing this for much longer, who started earlier…”
           “But none of them have the same story that you have to tell,” Cas continues, frowning, “You’re very admirable.”
           “Cas…”
           “Yes, you are,” he says, “All that you’ve done, what life has thrown at you and the choices - the sacrifices - you made, and still finding the courage and strength inside to start over? There are so many others who wouldn’t even dare think of doing that. I believe you’re going to go far… especially with how hard you have worked.”
           Dean sets his guitar down for the first time since they’ve met. Bee finally pays them notice again, dropping a stick and sniffing at it. Birdie snores overtake the quiet now that Dean stopped playing. He scratches at his neck. “Are you always this kind to strange men who wander into your yards?”
           “No,” Cas says, “Usually I call the police… but you’re special.”
           Tugging at his sleeve, Dean cautiously glances up at Cas. “You… you wouldn’t mind if I wrote a song about you?”
           Cas’s heart skips a beat, then doubles to make up for that momentary lapse. “You… really? Why?”
           “I said I came out here for inpsiration,” Dean shrugs, fighting back a grin, “And I found it.”
           He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t scoff at his words. Instead Cas thinks it over, debating. His phone vibrates, and an idea comes to mind. “Okay,” he says, “you can. But only if you let me post a picture of you on my Instagram account.”
           Dean raises a brow. “Odd exchange…”
           “Sometimes people don’t like to have their pictures shared,” Cas rambles, twisting his phone in his grip, “And you were a perfect model, those pictures I took earlier stunning… plus as a musician you’d probably benefit from the exposure so –“
           “Cas,” Dean laughs, grabbing for his hands, “Sure. You can post the picture, with blessings, bells, and everything.”
           “Okay…” he glances at his phone, still nervous, “Can I have your handle?” At Dean’s blank stare, he continues. “Your username… you do have an Instagram right?”
           “Ye-yeah,” Dean says, “Kinda had to, like you said. Don’t know how to use it much, but my son showed me the basics. Here,” he grabs Cas’s phone, “let me…”
           Cas lets Dean use his phone. It’s a strong sign of trust, since Instagram is a medium in which he uses to grow his audience. His last book deal came about because a publisher scrolling through his profile one lazy afternoon. He trusts Dean enough to know he won’t mess with his account. After some time, he hands it back to Cas.
           “It’s a simple name, really, DWinchester67,” Dean says, picking his guitar up again, “And… I hope I wasn’t too forward in also adding my name to your contacts?”
           Cas barely forms words around the lump in his throat. He whispers, “Not at all.”
           “Good.” Dean stands, then, stretching. Confused, Cas watches as he walks over to his Birkenstocks, slipping them on while Bee dances around him. Birdie rolls over into the spot he vacated, still sleeping.
           Startled into action when Dean slips the guitar strap over his chest, Cas shoots up. “Where are you going?”
           “The time,” Dean says, tight-lipped, “I didn’t plan on being out here so late… I have a gig later that I need to get ready for. And if I want to amble my way back to my car before sundown I gottta hit the trail now.”
           Cas nods, a disappointed note vibrating off his vocal chords. Dean takes notice of his expression and beams soft like sunlight at him. “It’s at this place called the Roadhouse… two shows – one at nine and another at eleven. I’m sure if you mention me to Ellen or Jo at the bar they’ll give you a discount on your drinks.”
           He grins. “I’d love to see your show.”
           “Which one?” Dean asks, “…So I know which to prepare a special encore for, s'all.”
           “Are you sure it’ll be special if you do it for both shows?”
           Dean chuckles. “I like you something fierce, Cas.”
           “I feel the same way.”
           Holding his hand out, Dean says, “Until tonight?”
           “Tonight.” Cas squeezes Dean’s hands, the calloused fingers closing around him like he were the neck of a guitar. He drags it away, them dancing as if trying to strum Cas’s skin. The feeling of their joined hands stays with Cas, even when Dean disappears behind the trees.
           Cas slumps back down onto the grass, Birdie and Bee stepping their way over to him. Bee picked up Cas’s discarded plate, holding it in her mouth like a Frisbee. Laughing, Cas takes it from her and stares at the crumbs he left.
           He wasn’t home until he had a grilled cheese. Today that ritual changed, because grilled cheese can’t compare to the feeling of Dean.
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lk-47 · 5 years
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Walk-Ins Welcome
DJ Paul - Alright / I'm finna drop you off to get your nails done / I'm finna go get a shapeup / I'm comin' back here to pick you up at 6 o'clock, so make sure you be on time man / I got a lot of shit I gotta do later / And don't be in there arguing with them dumbass bitches 'bout that social media shit too / I know how your ass .. oh, hold up ..
Put the, put that weed in your purse / Put the weed ..fuck, Black Haven. Anyway, I told you I'ma be back here at 6 o'clock / Make sure you on time, don't argue with the bitches and tell 47 I said Holler at me man / I got some beats for her / Tell her to call me back! / Mafia! Nail Tech - Nah / uh-uh No, no / put them over there cus .. / nope, you can sit her over there / I'ma take that one right there / Listen-no, I-I can't talk / ugh / listen .. Guhl, I can't with you today  I can't with you today I got these walk-ins comin' in And it's been hectic all day  If you gon' talk, then sit your ass down Get your nails done and pay / okay If not, call me tomorrow I can't with you today .. (Yeah ho!) Guhl, don't you see that sign? It say, "walk-ins welcome" Appointments on my line Nail trap’n Cinderellas I'm 'bout my coins, I'm 'bout that bag El guapa mia / my hashtag Don't get me started / you know Just how I feel 'bout that ho You shoulda been left that nigga If you know just like I know I'm gettin' mad all over again Look what you done Ooooh .. Nail Tech - “Excuse me Will you please pay attention because you just messed up that one.” Guhl, I can't with you today I can't with you today I got these walk-ins comin' in And it's been hectic all day If you gon' talk, then sit your ass down Get your nails done and pay / okay If not, call me tomorrow I can't with you today .. (Yeah ho!) 
Acrylic 
The sound of the world
Walk in and smell the Acrylic Walk in and smell the Acrylic Me and my crew counting digits Me and my crew counting digits
Wooo wooo there go the cops Pull up / bddrrr / right on my block Officer officer what have we done I got my card / put down your gun I’m not the criminal you and I know It’s no coincidence how you come show Up in my hood / up to no good
Walk in and smell the Acrylic Walk in and smell the Acrylic Me and my crew counting digits Me and my crew counting digits
I need a full set Can you airbrush his name? Quick color change if he drives me insane Here comes the plug / bought 2 DVD’s A few pair a panties for me and my niece Still buy my Polo from anonymous looters The booster is cooler than all of the shooters Up in my hood / doing the greater good Most of the mamas round here live alone It’s kinda rare to see two parent homes X and O chains / fierce to de bone You learn quick how to make it on your own My auntie sells candy from her windowpane Do what we can, to make us a name Up in the hood / we keep it all good, uh
Walk in and smell the Acrylic Walk in and smell the Acrylic Me and my crew counting digits Me and my crew counting digits
White tees 2 for 10 I get my hair from Mr. Wen Extension cord across the hall Is how we keep the power on Brown gel, spades game Tax time, they all claim Up in my hood Proud to say it did me good, uh
Walk in and smell the Acrylic Walk in and smell the Acrylic Me and my crew counting digits Me and my crew counting digits 
Tic Boom
Tic / Boom Mi nuh really care wo mi bump into Bulldozer / Mek room Write dat pon fi mi tomb
Don’t care if they assume Only stop to collect / then I resume You sleep / I goon Yuh nuh wah test who’s badder than who
Dey click my pics and zoom Chanel on the floor of my hotel room They wish they all had my legroom Another deal, it ain’t even noon
Tour Dior / or sit by the pool I can do anything except lose Nah wen yuh seh / it’s when I choose This is a bomb you can’t defuse
Tic / Boom Mi nuh really care wo mi bump into Bulldozer / Mek room Write dat pon fi mi tomb Tic / Boom Mi nuh really care wo mi bump into Bulldozer / Mek room Write dat pon fi mi tomb
Televise this dress It’s an Alaïa / show some respect Sitting / no armrest Get in / I’m what’s next
Incoming texts from the vets   No hate here / I’m blessed Mild manned No stress I’ll never let a broke ho get she vexed To wake to walk with di rest Abstract / Fearless Mi sey what’s pon my chest Di gyal dem try but dem dare nuh test
Tic / Boom Mi nuh really care who mi bump into
All in ya face like whoa Air max / cornrows Got that Bruce Leroy kinda glow Mi ongle pop mi head inna fi di dough Said I only pop my head in for the dough I never stay long got places to go See me on the scene / bitch say hello I get that bag then I want more I am the show / the name will grow I C O N I C, Ho Let me R E mind you bro Dey all wanna be cus I am goals Came from the dirt so I stay low F A B and so ghetto Dey copy and paste such a no no You birds might nuh wa cross dat road cus
Tic / Boom Mi nuh really care wo mi bump into Bulldozer / Mek room Write dat pon fi mi tomb 
No Reload
I say No my nigga I say No / No Reload
Grew up in a house full of women They ain’t need no nigga Never seen em borrow shit They had they own figures OG said they’ll give you money ‘Fore they give you game But when they come around here I treat them niggas all the same I say No I say No, No Reload If you want another feature for the road No Reload If you tryna get a meeting that’s a no No Reload If I switched that number up and you ain’t know / No Reload
I say No my nigga I say No / No Reload
In the crib, making beats Listening to Keedy Black Thinking bout what my old work did behind my back But I ain’t missing out on nann / cus I’m the best he never had Only time I double back is when a loop is in my track I say No I say No, No Reload When they try to come back you tell that ho No Reload Just send that ass packing down the road No Reload And when they ask you how you know? You say ... My ace in a hole
I say No my nigga I say No / No Reload
Konnichiwa 47 touched down in Tokyo Tell the Dj have my shit in mono and stereo
I say No my nigga I say No, No Reload 
Post That
Hit that pose Take that flick Check yo angle Post That shit
My bitch will get on the ground Just to make sure the light is found The way she make them angles hit She like Bill Cunningham with that shit I mean that shot Richard Avedon to make me look like a Don I got / so many pieces Bitch why not Have me a photo shoot right on the block I put two lanes on gridlock So I could sit in a fierce squat Spent big money on the wrist watch Highlighter on Tiptop Catch me in mid-air, Click They only made two pairs, Click Get into this hair, Click I do this shit with flair, bitch
Hit that pose Take that flick Check yo angle Post that shit
Galliano, I’m in Galliano, bitch Photo me pronto I’m in Galliano
Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum Grab your lens / cus here she come Frame by frame, glossy lips Must I remind you I’m that bitch Elongated / sophisticated Covergirl, bitch we made it Every feature soft to the touch I make all your boyfriends blush Then I let them have it As I sit in custom fabric The say you are what you eat So I wear karats and make cabbage, uh Andrew Donsunmu Make me pretty in my Mui Mui Now serving come and grab it Tanjee banjee just like New New, uh
Hit that pose Take that flick Check yo angle Post that shit
I’m in Mugler I’m sitting in Mugler, bitch Tape down your toupee I’m sitting in Mugler
Hol’up Hol’up Hol’up Hol’up
I’m Herb Ritz with the shit Gone’ Diddy crop that bitch Annie Leibovitz Gone’ Diddy crop that bitch
I’m Herb Ritz with the shit Gone’ Diddy crop that bitch Annie Leibovitz Gone’ Diddy crop that, uh
Hit that pose Take that flick Check yo angle Post that shit 
Let’s Go Get Stoned / Portier’s Vibe 
Ooou Oh yeah, yeah
Said my baby She won’t let me in Unless I gotta fat blunt, yeah yes And a bottle of gin
All I’m asking All I need Is a little of your time
Open up the door baby I got some real good good this time Hey ...
Let’s go get stoned Oh, Let’s go get stoned 
Girl Blunt 
This shit is a Girl Blunt I only smoke Girl Blunts
I suggest you don't try me I'm real unstable when I'm off that YG, uh Haffi tell they friends don't mind me I stand 5'3 and I'm real feisty, uh What I need / pretty nigga / palm trees Got my own money bitch, it's nothing you can buy me / Nope Crooklyn baby we could take there And if they want smoke we can put it in the air, yeah
This shit is a Girl Blunt I only smoke Girl Blunts
What you said What that mean I don't know Top shelf / bitch I'm on the honor roll Hot fire Make yo nigga stop and roll That booty oou she jiggle like a jelly roll / damn Chocolate, I'm lookin edible Running through the money bitch / I feel incredible Invite me to your party But I never go I be to caught up with that bank roll My dude real hood / mouth full of gold Real real hood / durag on Ambitious nigga, damn he got going on   He just graduated college ‘bout a week ago You can work at CVS Long as you don't keep me stressed Cus I need a nigga that's just, yes I'm not with the disrespect Miss me with the indirect Smoke em like a cigarette / puff pass
This shit is a Girl Blunt I only smoke Girl Blunts 
Roll Call 
What’s the pledge (repeat)
Stroll! Roll Call!
Start it off with a roll call Que’s be my road dogs AKA’s walking round with they pink and they green on Deltas be elephant walking Zetas be live when they talking Shimmy shimmy ya / shimmy yay with the Kappas In my black and gold I throw a blade like a Alpha Roll Call!
Campus full of homies Got me feeling like Zeus When I’m with my crew And they all Greeks Got my niggas turned up With they middle fingers up Fuck the police When my hitta gotta got a problem We don’t call on them We just hit up the LB’s What's up / Shut up
Going on tour It’s gonna be cool The only way that you invited is if you HBCU Historically Black I wear that on my sleeve 47 I just got an honorary degree
Roll Call!
Start it off with a roll call Que’s be my road dogs AKA’s walking round with they pink and they green on Deltas be elephant walking Zetas be live when they talking Shimmy shimmy ya / shimmy yay with the Kappas In my black and gold I throw a blade like a Alpha
Thurgood, Ms. Rashad, Dr. Ann, Mr. King Tell em one mo’ gen Ms. Badu, Sean Combs, Chadwick, Taraji P. Tell em where we been Southern U dolls I see ya Bethune Cookman they wanna be ya Drumline always there when we need em Howard Homecoming where we meet up
We going on tour Come bring a friend Shawty if you ain’t connected Sorry you can’t get in Historically Black I wear that on my sleeve 47 I just got an honorary degree
Roll Call!
Start it off with a roll call Que’s be my road dogs AKA’s walking round with they pink and they green on Deltas be elephant walking Zetas be live when they talking Shimmy shimmy ya / shimmy yay with the Kappas In my black and gold I throw a blade like a Alpha
Roll Call! 
Kid Chocolate Radio 
You are now tuned in to WHNIC radio Where you always know, who’s in charge
That was Roll Call our number two song on our top 9 at 9 by Leikeli47 / Heavily requested by our brothers and sisters on the yard ..
Speaking of the yard / I wanna give a shout out to Professor Jenkins / Uh, I heard she broke her back at halftime / She called to let us know that she's fine and well, and she wants to give a shout out to everybody that sent her cards / Somebody tell Miss Jenkins to stay off the field, next time
Listen, everybody traveling south down Broad st right / There is an accident on Lombardy / so please be safe while you're going down there by The Fan / Tryna take the shortcut down the southside ..
But right now we about to get into the number one spot. Ah, we can't get rid of this girl. Leikeli47, with Top Down on WHNIC Radio.
Top Down
Protector of my heart Captain of my soul Never made me regret Giving up control Don’t have to be afraid Of the ship sailing away Even through bad weather Our anchor stays in place I'm a love you
Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (Thinking of you) I can’t get enough I can’t get enough I can’t get enough (Win or we lose) I’m not giving up I’m not giving up I’m not giving up (I'm a love you) Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (I'm a love you)
Patient with my pride You move it all aside Never had a lover So careful and kind Ain’t much that I need Rather be caught up In your rhapsody And I don’t mind I don’t mind cus I'm gonna love you
Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (Thinking of you) I can’t get enough I can’t get enough I can’t get enough (Win or we lose) I’m not giving up I’m not giving up I’m not giving up (I'm a love you) Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (I'm a love you)
I get real real happy every time I see you It’s funny how these niggas wanna be you, uh I found my equal Calendar set for the steeple Til death do us part / you know how we do, uh And when they see you Just know that I ain’t too far behind Matching air max / seat reclined, uh Defensive line and I play my position To the fullest Fuck around and get a few yards took'n It’s Brooklyn
Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (Thinking of you) I can’t get enough I can’t get enough I can’t get enough (Win or we lose) I’m not giving up I’m not giving up I’m not giving up (I'm a love you) Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up Top down Bottom up (I'm a love you)
Hoyt and Schermerhorn
In the dark on the train whispering, I love you Can’t nobody see the smile upon my face Pulling up to my stop / and you tell me don’t move You ask me can I call in sick today The doors close and I sit in your lap and kiss you You tell me my voice is medicine to your soul The brakes make us move back and forth just like we’re dancing It’s nothing like love on the train when the doors close
Oh we’re riding all the way Downtown to Uptown You got me all the way As long you’re down Ride with me all the way This train is love bound Ride with me All the way
Looking out the window the lights are flashing Tunnel vision / All I can see is you Passengers congregating for our union I’m hoping that they have what we have too
Oh we’re riding all the way Downtown to Uptown You got me all the way As long you’re down Ride with me all the way This train is love bound Ride with me All the way
Uh Never thought in my dreams / that I would meet the one You can count on me If your friends ever run No trade clause Take this team to number one My homie / my lover My best friend / my sun Shine on 'em baby In ya Calvin Klein on 'em Style on em bae U gotta couple miles on 'em While they play catch up We playing dress up In the Maldives Listening to the Killer Bees Hair blowing in the breeze Thinking back on memories when I would take the E Top my job I had in Queens You would always meet me At 61st with the weed and / I cherish the ground we on right now You always held me down I loved our meetings in the hallway In my old building I lived right across from RJ Trust you like I trust Mike 4th quarter in the paint So happy my rite now Will forever be my always We riding all the way
Oh we’re riding all the way Downtown to Uptown You got me all the way As long you’re down Ride with me all the way This train is love bound Ride with me All the way 
Iron Mike 
4-5-6 when it leave A nigga top dollar in the streets Shake it shake it like a money tree A nigga top dollar in these streets
This that young Brownsville Mike This what working hard sounds like In that hood all damn night / Just hit 12 o’clock on that bike This that go way past go Feel that beat through that floor This that direct disrespect if you ever cross that road This that ..
Album number two Project number ten And I’m not / I’m not I’m not even through Just got my second wind When you / when you see me boppin through Keep it very zen Would hate to put you in a child’s pose Heat it up like Bikram All my cars got big rims Pinky ring / big gem Running in my own race That sound like a win win Outchea balling / Big 10 They use me as a template Cuh dey know that guhl got all dat sauce It’s finger licking 
4-5-6 when it leave A nigga top dollar in the streets Shake it shake it like a money tree A nigga top dollar in these streets
This that young Brownsville Mike This what working hard sounds like In that hood all damn night / Just hit 12 o’clock on that bike This that go way past go Feel that beat through that floor This that direct disrespect if you ever cross that road This that ..
Rarely interviewed /  And that hardly ever seen If you wanna get a view You gone need to buy a seat Al Haymon ringside I peek in from time to time Don’t engage in small talk Cus you ain’t bout to waste mine Dis-activate my face time Focus on my waistline Offensively coordinated Loved at the same time I suit up at game time Bitch pronounce name right Hall of fame’r in the hood A bitch I’m a walking highlight 
4-5-6 when it leave A nigga top dollar in the streets Shake it Shake it like a money tree A nigga top dollar in these streets
This that young Brownsville Mike This what working hard sounds like In that hood all damn night / Just hit 12 o’clock on that bike This that go way past go Feel that beat through that floor This that direct disrespect if you ever cross that road This that ..
Droppin
Tee Tee / that’s my sister OG / that’s my cousin Just talked to my brother Told him that I loved him Made it from the bottom Beef no problem All they ever ask is when my New shit droppin
They watching They watching everything I do They all chasing Can’t run a mile up in my shoes Tell me later That ain’t my problem / that’s on you I’m flying private I’m walking right up with the crew
We land I take my nephew to swapmeet / white tees Then it’s to the studio to produce my beats Sitting in the shop, Acrylic on my nails getting harder then gel I got a story to tell
Tee Tee / that’s my sister OG / that’s my cousin Just talked to my brother Told him that I loved him Made it from the bottom Beef no problem All they ever ask is when my New shit droppin
I’m the Baby from the dumpster Brenda was my momma Free lunch in the summers Now I’m stacking commas Fake bitches still envy I don’t need that drama I too damn busy outchea chasing numbers Ponytail poppin Cocktails in the cockpit Boys insist on hanging on while I explore my options I tell them to stop it They search but they can’t top this The hustle I don’t knock it Cus I’m about that profit
Tee Tee / that’s my sister OG / that’s my cousin Just talked to my brother Told him that I loved him Made it from the bottom Beef no problem All they ever ask is when my New shit droppin 
CIAA
The guns go bang bang My neighborhood gang bangs These kids with no name Seen their families slain, yeah Guns and cocaine These lions with gold chains Hunt they prey Knowing good and damn well they pray And u ask me how could this be? I will tell you how....
After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets I tell ya what u wanna know After I go get what I’m owed
Picking up from the laundromat New money from my old pack I gotta enterprise citywide I know my angels working overtime Cus they tried to kill me Tried to take me down Drown me in the river Put me in the ground But I can’t stop No I won’t stop It ain’t in my nature I keep it in my socks I show em ..
After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets I tell ya what u wanna know After I go get what I’m owed
Another day, another dollar, another cent Took me a hunned times try'n /  before I rose out the cement, yeah Cleared out my karma For my sins, I repent A lot of free throws before I came up off the bench I / went at afraid / had to pitch my own tent Cus /  being broke and poor man Just wasn’t my intent So, no I can’t stop But I won’t stop It ain’t in my nature I keep it in my socks I show em ..
After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets oh After I run these streets After I run these streets I tell ya what u wanna know After I go get what I’m owed 
Talkin’ to Myself 
Talkin to myself Talkin to myself Sometimes I just be talkin to myself Voices in my head Voices in my head Tellin me I just need to get outta bed and .. Wake up! Wake (repeat) Eh’body talkin Eh’body talkin Nothing really coming out It’s just eh’body talkin It’s fire in the water It’s bugs in the bed We don’t need to be shot up to be filled up with lead Pour it down the drain Pour it down the drain I wish I could just melt you and just pour you down the drain Fuck you mean you don’t care? Them babies over there We need to be proud / be loud Gone let em hear I just be ... Talkin to myself Talkin to myself Sometimes I just be talkin to myself I hear them voices in my head Voices in my head Tellin me I just need to get outta bed and .. Wake up! Wake (repeat) Wake up! 
Bad Gyal Flex
This is a bad gyal flex When I come, I come to collect This is a bad gyal flex Hang it up, disconnect This is a bad gyal flex When mi campaign dey reelect This is a bad gyal flex Run up you might get wrecked
No one cyaan test Middle name, architect They never know what to expect You accept what I reject
Coo pon dat bwoy I might mek him my toy Send him home / bunk mi res Tell his mumma I’m di best
Sumody tell mi sey yuh dida talk bout mi It’s no surprise that you chat bout we Cuyah she gwan like she so nice eee Get that red out ya eye fore you come try me
Sumody tell mi sey yuh dida talk bout mi It’s no surprise that you chat bout we Cuyah she gwan like she so nice eee Get that red out ya eye fore you come try we
This is a bad gyal flex When I come, I pick up the check This  is a bad gyal flex Hang it up, disconnect This is a bad gyal flex When mi campaign dey reelect This is a bad gyal flex High class / no respect
Water more than flour Das wah mek mi work round the hour Billboards on towers On time even during rush hour Mi came to empower Grab fi yuh tits stand taller Wine like no tomorrow Carry go bring come Don’t bother
Sumody tell mi sey yuh dida talk bout mi It’s no surprise that you chat bout we Cuyah she gwan like she so nice ee Get that red out ya eye fore you come try me
This is a bad gyal flex When I come, I come for respect This is a bad gyal flex Hang it up, disconnect This is a bad gyal flex When mi campaign they reelect This is a bad gyal flex Run up you might get wrecked
Had ah dream mi guh ah far No it’s fi mi name they calling DJ kip de bashment going on an on
Had ah dream mi guh ah far No it’s fi mi name they calling DJ keep de bashment going on an on
So I can flex
This is a bad gyal flex When I come, I pick up the check This is a bad gyal flex Hang it up, disconnect This is a bad gyal flex When mi campaign dey reelect This is a bad gyal flex High class / no respect  
Full Set (A New Style) 
Now moo that .. Lemme give her some / Lemme give her some bundles .. The same / bundles / that she's been having / past weeks! Let me give her a New Style ..
New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo A new cut / A new color A new cut / A new color
Put ya thumb up bitch You ain’t goin my way No more free rides That’s done I say Take court, any sport I’cuh run all day Right hand to Sham I’m a ball my way
"Category is" Are the words I pray Hold church on the catwalk all day Bring it to you every ball And I don’t show face Clocked in on time Need all my pay
Chewing gum, Chewing gum, Chew Why would I say what I can just do Chewing gum, Chewing gum, Chew No money on the scene? / Bitch that’s my cue Uh, I carry Looking for a young Iverson to marry Watching my calories I'm a Plant-based ho all about her celery salary
New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo A new cut / A new color A new cut / A new color
I’m from the hood hood We don’t back down We wish a nigga would would Block boys with the good wood If he loyal hold it down like you should should
Now Serving High maintenance Chase nothing but greatness Barely seen in places / and never in no ones face bitch So that phony shit y’all save it Fo yo skully be on that pavement Cus big bucks and Benz toy trucks Are the only thing that I play with Don’t try me, try luck Putcha in the cloud wit all the shit you can’t back up Nike airs coming in by the Mack truck On all ten I got my mother f*ck'n checks up, bitch
New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo New Style / New hairdo A new cut / A new color A new cut / A new color
Blacker than an all white party Came to make you move your body
She needs some oil sheen.
In My Eyes In my eyes / you’re a king In my eyes / you’re a queen Beautiful lives / lost in spring The wind blows away our dreams In my eyes / I am god Cause He lives in my heart Scriptures in the stall Vines on the wall Psalms in the air just in case a nigga fall Father forgive me for I do not know it all But the life you chose for me had me living off the wall Sometimes on floors Singing through the halls And Billie Jean never came clean through it all Daddy’s maybe was a welfare baby Now I’m lighting up the streets, and that’s on me In my eyes / there’s a war Pick a side / what are you fighting for In my eyes / only blood can clean The stains of life That I wear on me I’m leaving, come with me There’s more for us to be
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underoossss · 6 years
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Don’t Stop the Music - Part 4
part one / part two / part three
pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
warnings: none 
AN: Thanks to the love of my life Taylor @cmonspidey for being the best beta ever💗 Hope y’all enjoy it!
Our foreheads were pressed together as the cheers from the balconies surrounded us when the lights went out. Tom’s hands held tightly onto mine as we waited forty seconds before the music started.
“Ready?” I whispered not sure if Tom heard me until he nodded his head.
“Ready.”
“Pretend this is a rehearsal, just us in the studio having fun. No pressure.” I whispered again, sharing what helped me through my first performances last year.
Tom nodded and squeezed my hands again before pulling away with a smile on his face that brought a similar one to mine. “Let’s show them what we’ve got.”
It was my turn to nod as we took our starting positions. I leaned my left elbow on Tom’s shoulder, placed my other hand on my hip and turned my head to my right. Tom turned his head to the other side, thumbs in his pockets and right leg casually behind his left.
I could almost hear both of our heartbeats pounding in anticipation before the sound was replaced by music and color lights. I lifted my head up and turned it towards Tom who did the same before offering me his hand which I took. We switched places and started the choreography that at this point we could probably dance in our sleep.
 You’d think that after rehearsing so many times we’d be sick of it, well we’re not. I don’t know if its Tom or the song itself but each time that we dance to it, it always feels like the first time. The energy, the fun and the playfulness that comes with the genre it’s still there. It doubles when it comes to the instrumental bridge of the song, when Tom and I faced the judges like we practiced yesterday and started to dance our favorite part of the choreography. We were in perfect sync, our arms and feet right on tempo in every move and I’m guessing by the looks on our face everyone could tell we were enjoying ourselves.
 Time flew by as we danced and next thing I knew, Tom and I were smiling at each other as the final sequence came. We moved closer before he grabbed my hand and my waist spinning me in place, moving left and right and finishing in a dip. The sound of applause and cheers brought me out of the daze his eyes always put me in. The happiness of what most probably was a close to perfect performance was evident as we embraced each other laughing and out of breath.
 “That was amazing!” Tom cupped my cheeks, his smile was so bright his cheeks must have hurt just like mine.
 The presenters came back to stand next to us and Tom kept his arm around my waist as we waited for their comments and our score.
 “Wonderful performance by Y/N and Tom, let’s hear what the judges have to say. Len, we’ll start with you.”
 “Outstanding, simply outstanding. The way the both of you click when you’re dancing is incredible. Tom, there’s no denying you are an amazing dancer but I do have to mention you were looking down at the floor too many times but other than that, it was a beautifully executed choreography.” We smiled and nodded at Len’s comment before the next judge, Bruno, started talking.
 “It is mind-blowing for me to see both of you dance because it looks like you’ve been dancing with each other for years. Tom, I loved the way you could match Y/N’s playful and flirty way of dancing and I can see you’ve worked a lot on technique and proper form. But certainly, what I liked the most about this performance was how both of you matched your movements with every change of beat. It was beautiful to see.”
 We shared a look of utter joy at the positive comments before it was the last judge’s, Carrie Ann, turn to speak.
 “We can all agree that if this is your first performance and if it went this well, then we’ll be expecting great things from the both of you this season. And since it is your first performance I have to point out some flaws, Tom although both of you were beautifully coordinated your footwork was sloppy when you got excited during the performance. You need to remember proper form in both your arms and legs when you dance, but other than that I’m loving both of you so far.”
 Tom nodded in understanding and I gave him a reassuring smile. He grabbed my hand once the presenters asked for the judges’ score and I felt myself holding my breath.
Carrie Ann: 8
Len: 9
Bruno: 9
Total Score: 26
 My jaw dropped to the floor and soon enough Tom was picking me up and spinning me around as the crowd cheered. Everyone was ecstatic, Harrison was practically bouncing up and down in excitement and Zendaya along with Tom’s brothers were cheering and clapping along with the crowd.
 “Told you we could do it.” I mumbled as we hugged when he put me down.
 “It’s all because of you, darling.” I could feel him smile which made me pull away from the embrace to meet his eyes.
 “Because of us, we are a team Holland.” I smiled before waving at the crowd and the camera and walking backstage again, Tom by my side.
 “I can’t believe Val beat us by only one point! One!” Tom shook his head in disbelief as I dried my hair with a towel after showering.
 “Well, it is Val.” I shrugged, second place wasn’t bad at all. I had never been in second place during the first week.
 “That, is so true.” Zendaya said as she knocked on the dressing room door with Sam, Harry and Harrison behind her.
 “Hey! Come in, come in!” I smiled putting my towel aside and moving towards the door to greet everyone.
 Tom got up from his place on the couch too and started to introduce me to his family. “Y/N, these are two of my brothers. Sam and Harry.”
 “It’s so nice to meet you.” I said extending my hand but both of them hugged me instead. So everyone likes to hug in this family, noted.
 “The pleasure is ours, Tom hasn’t stopped-” Harry started to talk but Tom interrupted him.
 “I’m pretty sure you know Zendaya but anyways, Zendaya this is Y/N.”
 I was speechless for a second before I could speak, “Hi, it’s amazing to meet you. I’m a big fan!”
 She smiled back and also gave me a hug as a greeting, “It’s great to meet you, you almost beat Val just now. I’m rooting for you 100 percent.”
 “I’m in the team too you know.” Tom grumbled rolling his eyes.
 I laughed and Zendaya shrugged, “Yeah, okay.”
 “I think we should celebrate. Dinner everyone? Y/N you coming?” Harrison spoke up, hunger probably getting the best of him and everyone agreed with the idea.
 I was skeptical for a bit, Tom probably wanted to celebrate with his brother and friends, take a break from me being on his face all week. “Umm…” I said in lieu of an answer.
 “As if you joining us is even a question, you’re coming. We wouldn’t have a reason to celebrate if it weren’t for you.” Tom said noticing my hesitation, and smiling my way.
 “Alright, if everyone is cool with it.” I nodded when everyone agreed with Tom.
 “So where are we going? I asked taking my keys out of my bag. “I’ll go in my car. I need to pick up my sister later.”
 “Oh! Can we ride with you?” Harry and Sam asked at the same time.
 “Sure.” I said at the same time Tom said no.
 “Awesome,” The twins said ignoring their brother.
 “That’s not a good idea,” Tom said shaking his head and I raised an eyebrow confused.
“Why is it not a good idea?” I asked still walking towards my car.
 “Yeah Tom, why?” Harrison smirked as if daring Tom to say something which confused me even more.
 “Nothing, nothing. Just go, we’ll meet you at the taco place that’s by the weird vase shop?”  
 I laughed knowing the place he was talking about and nodded saying bye to Harrison and Zendaya before putting my bag in the trunk of my car and getting into the driver’s seat.
 Harry sat on the passenger’s seat while Sam went to the back. “What’s the weird vase shop?” Sam asks popping his head between the two front seats.
 I laugh putting my seatbelt on and starting up the car, “Well, there is this guy that sells the weirdest vases in his little shop. Some of them are pretty cool but some others are nonsensical to even be considered vases.”
“I wanna see these weird vases, maybe even get one for Tom and make him put it in his apartment.” Harry chuckled making Sam and me do the same.
“That’s cruel,” I shook my head.
“Do it.” Sam smiled encouraging his twin making me laugh even more.
“He hasn’t stopped talking about you, you know.” Harry said looking my way and I tried not to let myself blush. He means professionally. Only about the way you dance nothing else, I reminded myself.
“I’m sure. He’s really excited about the competition.” I said keeping my eyes on the road ahead.
I felt the twins share a look but when I looked to my side they were acting casually once more. I gave them a suspicious look that soon faded away when they started up conversation again. Turns out they were just as great as Tom had painted them to be, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that boys that look like they wouldn’t hurt a fly are mischievous like no one I’ve ever known before.
“Okay stop, my stomach hurts too much from laughing.” I chuckled parking the car as Sam finished telling yet another prank they had pulled on Harrison and Tom a couple of months back.
 “But we haven’t even told you half of the pranks we’ve come up with.” Sam complained getting out of the car.
 “Let’s make a deal, five pranks a day or a visit alright? Or else I’d die laughing.” I locked the car and joined the two boys waiting for me on the sidewalk.
“Deal.”
“Hey Y/N?” Harry asked and I looked up to see he was recording with his phone making me chuckle and roll my eyes.
“Yes?”
“Would you let me record a music video with you dancing in it?” He said with a smile which made me smile in return.
“Sure, just pick a song.” I shrugged.
 “I HAVE FOUND THE VASE SHOP!” Sam yelled making his brother shake his head and put down his phone. We hadn’t even noticed he had left our side.
“Please don’t break anything.” Harry mumbled and I laughed as both of us walked towards Sam.
“Okay, we’re totally getting him the one that looks like a weird parrot.” Sam pointed with a mischievous glint in his eye. I followed his gaze and had to laugh for the umpteenth time of the day, that is until we heard Tom behind us.
“What are you guys planning now?” Tom asked making us jump and cut our laughter short.
“Nothing!” All of us said at the same time. Yeah, not suspicious at all right?
“Don’t coerce her into the dark side.” Tom said standing in front of me as if shielding me from his brothers which made me laugh. I gave the two boys a thumbs up since Tom couldn’t see me before moving to the side where Harrison and Zendaya stood watching the scene unfold.
“Tacos?” I asked and everyone started walking again to the small restaurant a couple of feet away ready to celebrate.
“Well good morning to you! I didn’t expect you to be here yet.” I smiled at Tom the Saturday after our first performance, we had agreed to meet at 10:30 in the studio and I came here 30 minutes earlier with his coffee to run the choreography once more before showing it to him.
“Hey!” He said standing up and giving me a hug as always, being careful not to knock the cup holder out of my hands. “Harrison went back home today with Harry and Sam so they dropped me off before going to the airport.”
“For someone’s birthday right? He told me on Thursday.” I asked as I sat against the mirror patting the spot next to me for Tom to join me.
“Yeah, he’s back on Tuesday.” Tom nodded thanking me for the latte I handed to him and leaning against the mirror. “Why are you here early? I mean I know you always are but I never asked.”
I chuckled as I changed my shoes, “The perfectionist in me can’t help to run the choreo a couple of times before we actually start to make sure it’s, well, perfect.” 
Tom shook his head smiling, “I don’t think there’s even the slightest chance that a something choreographed by you will be anything but perfect.”
I hid my face while sipping my coffee and shrugged instead of answering before putting it down and standing up. “So, we got lyrical for our genre this week. Ready?”
Tom took another drink from his coffee and sent a wink my way, “It’s like ballet, easy peasy.”
I laughed shaking my head, “Hold on to that thought.” I took my phone and plugged it to the speakers before asking Tom to press play on my cue.
I tied my hair in a ponytail and stood in the center of the studio in the opening pose. My arms over my chest as if holding myself, and my head to the side. I don’t know why I chose the song, at the time it seemed right and inspiration came rushing to me in a matter of seconds. Make you Happy, I thought to myself, make who happy? Myself? The audience?
After I gave a nod and Tom plays the song, the same words repeat themselves over and over again. All I want to do is make you happy, all I want to do is make you happy. It all became clear when my eyes met his during one of the turns, the smile on his face and the look in his eyes giving meaning to every step, every jump, every gesture I made. 
I knew who I was dancing for then, who I wanted to make happy. Him, I thought catching my breathe the moment I was done. All I wanted to do was make him happy, even if it was only for a little bit, even if we are meant to part ways in two months. I’ll just enjoy that smile while I can.  
part 5>>
taglist: @parkerbenjaminpeter @tomhollandhollaatme @hufflepuffholland @tbholland @trasholland @x-parker-holland-x @spxderman @tomllholland @allison0609 @sofiadiaz04 @underoosforspidey @radicalstars @amazingalexthealpacaa @msnotinthemoodforyou @tomhollandsspiderbite @darkerthanspace @auntzodacor @thenormalesthuman @totallynotkaibiased @marzipan-romanoff @sai-kida134 @1022bridgetp @water13girl @sup3erf1ash @fairydustparker @petiteserpent @notso-sweetcaroline @xkaciesearlex @karamelblobber @toribentleyva @sickeningdesire @mrsmusicaddict @ma-feffka  @kaylinfayezink  @wingsanddarkness @free-wifi-at-wendys  @allaroundaddict   @infinityywar  @starkintcrm @dailygubler 💗💗
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Anyways I just had to do another part to my self-indulgent Scream AU because I just love this universe and it’s too good for me to stay away for long.
And thanks to @ophvelias for her incredibly kind words and her continual encouragement! This one is for you! 
Part 1 [x] Part 2 [x]
“I have to go into work.”
It takes Fitz a second to realize that Ophelia means the movie set.
She has to go into work at the movie set. The one designed to look like That Night. With one major difference, of course. The blood on the walls is fake this time around.
Fitz stares at her, almost uncomprehending as his mind puts all the pieces together.
At least Ophelia looks apologetic when she ducks her head, avoiding his eyes. “They’re expecting me in an hour.”
They’ve wasted the morning, though Fitz wouldn’t exactly consider the time they’ve spent together a waste. Not the time they spent in bed, or in the kitchen making breakfast, or in the living room sitting with their knees pressed together on the couch, Ophelia’s head tipped to the side as she laughed at him. With him. As she laughed and the sound made him smile.
And now…
“I’ll go with you.”
Ophelia looks surprised but she doesn’t refuse his offer.
She drives the same route he took the day before, though without the urgency that Fitz felt when he was trying to reach her, to ascertain for himself that she was safe and sound despite what he’d seen on the news about Officer Coulson. They haven’t talked about him -or any of it- since this morning and when they’d gotten into the car the radio had been discussing the murder and Ophelia had switched it deftly off before the newscaster could mention either of their names.
Now, Fitz can’t help but watch Ophelia as she drives, her hands tight around the steering wheel, the silver scar on the top of her hand barely visible. He knows there’s a matching on the underside, knows how it feels to press his lips against it.
Ophelia turns her head and Fitz feels his cheeks color as he tries to push the thought from his mind. “What?” She smirks. He shakes his head and she rolls her eyes. “You’re blushing.”
Fitz scoffs. “I’m not blushing,” he assures her quickly. “I don’t blush. I…I don’t blush.” The comment, he feels, does little to help him maintain his dignity.
Ophelia gives a little harrumph of sound as she turns the car onto the studio lot, holding up a laminated pass when the guard at the gate motions for her to roll down her window. “It’s cute,” Ophelia assures Fitz as she finds a parking spot and steps out of the car. “Really.”
Fitz gives her a look. “Cute. Great.” But he doesn’t mind, honestly. He feels a bit like Rudolph, learning to fly for the first time: she thinks I’m cute! It’s better than the other genre of movie that feels like it’s constantly playing in his head.
Twice more, Ophelia flashes her badge, Fitz sticking close to her side, being allowed access by default. As they grow closer to the studio warehouse he was at yesterday, he grows more and more uncertain of his decision to come with her. Ophelia clearly doesn’t need protecting, though he has no idea what he thought he was protecting her from anyway. A Hollywood version of their life story? Some killer in the shadows?
Honestly, Fitz thinks he might be the one who needs protecting from Hollywood. Ophelia looks unfazed as they step into the warehouse, unbothered by the déjà vu feeling that Fitz can feel settling in his brain.
“How did you decide to get involved in this?” Fitz asks and he tries to keep his tone curious this time rather than accusatory.
Ophelia shrugs, shaking her head. “They approached me, actually.” Fitz nods because they had done the same for him, though he’d been quick to shut the door in their faces. “Like I said yesterday, I felt like they were going to be making the movie anyway. I wanted to make sure that…” She frowns, considering her answer. “I wanted it to feel right.”
Fitz grimaces, shaking his head. “Is that even possible?”
His eyes settle on the recreation of The House, the one burned into his mind ever since That Night. He knows it so well, mostly from his nightmares. He isn’t sure how it’s supposed to feel, wonders if it feels differently to Ophelia than it does to the people working on the set. She’d no doubt given the final approval on all the details but he knows the movie will never be able to truly capture how it had felt to be trapped inside the place.
Fitz looks away, looks at Ophelia instead. She meets his gaze. “Why did you want to come?”
He isn’t sure how to answer that, isn’t sure which answer makes him look the least pathetic. He hadn’t wanted to be away from her. Hadn’t wanted her to be alone. Hadn’t wanted to be alone either. Instead, he says, “I was curious.”
“Ophelia!”
They both turn in the direction of the man calling her name and Ophelia’s shoulders tense slightly, her lips pursing into a thin line. “Jeffrey Mace,” she says to Fitz, “the director.”
“Glad you could finally join us today,” Mace says with a smile, his hand settling on Ophelia’s shoulder in an almost possessive manner. Fitz looks at him, frowning slightly. Not that he seems to notice. “Well I’ll be damned,” Mace crows, shaking his head. “Leo Fitz. In the flesh.”
Mace grabs for his hand, giving it a shake and Fitz looks at the man, uncertain. Mace glances back toward Ophelia. “Finally convinced him to work with us?”
Fitz feels his eyebrows knit together and Ophelia shakes her head, a small flash of guilt in her eyes. “No,” she says quickly. “I’m pretty sure Leopold made his feelings on this perfectly clear the first time.”
“Never too late,” Mace says, his hand still tightly grasping Fitz’s as he tugs him forward. “Let me show you around. Get your insight on some things. We’ve been trying to make things as realistic as possible. We want to tell your story, not just make another scary movie. Lord knows there’s enough of that shit going around.”
Ophelia follows after them and Fitz can’t help but look around as they walk around the side of the house. They’ve recreated the garage he walked into That Night, trying to figure out where everyone had gone to. He’d found Lincoln Campbell dead on the floor, his first indication that something was terribly, terribly wrong.
The garage is empty now, aside from the assortment of clutter befitting any suburban garage. There’s an X on the floor in masking tape and Fitz has to look away, closing his eyes against the memory.
He nearly jumps in surprise when he feels something brush against his hand, relieved when he looks down and sees Ophelia twining her fingers together with his. Fitz looks up at her, though he doubts his smile seems all that sincere at the moment.
Around the back of the house, on the manufactured patio, there are a half dozen people gathered around. One peers behind the lens of a camera, shaking his head, his features etched in a frown, while another makes minute changes to a trio of lights. One of the women is being groomed and styled by a person wearing scrubs, while the two other people sit on the porch swing, both on their phones.
The man behind the camera doesn’t look up. “We’re almost ready for the scene,” he tells Mace.
Mace nods. “Good man.” He looks back at Fitz. “That’s Burroughs, first unit.” Fitz nods like he knows what he’s talking about. “These are some of our principal actors.”
All three heads turn in their direction in unison. “That’s Daisy,” Mace points to the one having her hair brushed in repeated, smooth strokes.
“She’s supposed to be Stephanie,” Ophelia says to Fitz, tipping her head toward his ear.
But Daisy hears her anyway. “Not Stephanie,” she corrects quickly. “Hayley. Her dad never gave us the go-ahead to use her real name.”
Ophelia grimaces and Fitz knows exactly how she feels.
The other two actors move off the porch swing, joining the lopsided circle. “Grant Ward,” Ophelia says pointing at him. “And-”
“Nice to meet you,” Ward says quickly, clapping Fitz on the back. “Really. I’ve read all about you man. I’d hoped you’d pay us a visit sometime. I’m playing Will-”
He stops, no doubt clued in by the expression that Fitz is certain he’s wearing on his face.
Fitz can feel the color draining from his face. His body suddenly feels twenty degrees colder, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He tries to swallow but isn’t sure he quite manages to succeed.
Ward clears his throat, shrugging apologetically. “I mean,” he mumbles, “you know.”
Of course. Fitz knows.
“This,” Ophelia says quickly, giving Fitz’s hand a squeeze, “is Jemma. She’s playing me.”
Fitz looks at her, eyebrows lifting. Physically speaking, there’s nothing in common between the two of them at all, even with the height-difference taken out of the equation. When she introduces herself, Fitz has to keep from pointing out the further difference in the accents, though he assumes the actress with lose her natural accent while playing the American Ophelia. It makes him wonder about the actor they’ve found to play him.
Though, Fitz has to admit, there’s something similar in the way that Ophelia and Jemma both carry themselves, in their personalities. Jemma seems to do a decent job of embodying the effervescent quality that Fitz remembers so clearly in Ophelia when they went to school together.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Ophelia asks him, a hint of a smirk turning up the corners of her lips. It makes Fitz feel a little more at ease, seeing her smile in this particular setting.
Fitz scoffs, shaking his head. “That’s putting it lightly,” he mumbles.
Beyond Jemma’s shoulder, Fitz can see a bloody handprint on the glass of the sliding door and he curls his fingers into his palm. He remembers how it felt to grab for the handle, desperate to yank the door open, only to find that it was locked. The blood had been his own, pressed to the glass in a moment of blind panic as he thought about trying to shatter the glass to get out.
“We’ll stay out of your way,” Ophelia says, her voice buzzing through the fog in Fitz’s mind. “We’ll watch over here.”
Fitz doesn’t protest when Ophelia pulls him off toward one of the corners and he can barely hear Mace start providing direction to the actors and crew. Ophelia rests a hand gently against Fitz’s cheek and he flinches, looking at her apologetically. “Sorry. I…”
“I get it,” Ophelia tells him, kissing his forehead lightly. He closes his eyes, savoring the brief touch of her lips against his skin. The gesture is easy, done without much thought on either of their parts. He wonders how they could have come so far in twenty-four hours.
Though, he figures, that’s not entirely true.
They’ve had three years to truly come together.
“Why don’t you go?” Ophelia asks, pressing the car keys into his hand. “I’ll call you when they don’t need me anymore.”
Ophelia goes to step back but Fitz reaches for her, settling his hands on her hips. “I’m fine,” he tells her, though that might not entirely be the case. “I’m not leaving you.”
That, at least, he thinks is the truth.  
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bluegreenamber · 7 years
Text
Curses
((AN: This is inspired by writing-prompt-s. The prompt below is from them. Prompt: "Two magicians made a blood oath when they were children that they would never harm each other. Now they are mortal enemies and have resorted to inconveniencing and annoying each other, knowing if they harm one another they’ll die.")) Eight years. It has been eight years since they have seen each other. Neither of them know what to expect. They hadn't exactly departed on the best terms. They had been in the middle of what was basically a magical prank war when they finally decided that the long-dead "friendship" they had had at some point wasn't worth the fear and frustration and that it would be best for them to stay far away from each other. But what about now? It had been so long. Anything could happen. Is he still mad at me? Aiden wonders as he fidgets nervously with his pale hands. He tenses at the thought of the man coming to meet him bursting into the cafe and yelling at him in front of everyone and then storming back out for another eight years. He adjusts his glasses on his nose and starts tapping his foot, his sneaker virtually soundless amongst the din of chatter in the room. Is he still mad at me? Adam wonders as he stares at the inside of the window of the cab he's in. His reflection stares back at him with the same question in its eyes. To anyone else, he would look cool and collected with his near-emotionless expression and designer shades hiding his face from view, as if he was about to go to a casual business meeting or rendezvous with a good friend and not a reunion with someone he is magically bound to and hasn't seen in almost a decade. But to himself, the man who knows him best, he looks absolutely petrified. He can see the slight twitch of his lip and furrow of his brow. All small signs of his apprehension, barely perceptible to the ignorant eye. Aiden can't keep his eyes from wandering to the clock on the wall. Time is constantly changing, but right now, it feels like it's stuck in limbo. Too late to back out and too early to give up. He has to stick it through until time decides that it's socially acceptable to assume that the man isn't going to show up and that he can go home. This little window of time feels like several eternities, like time is purposefully stretching itself out just to torture him cruelly. Adam's gaze switches between the door of the cafe he's supposed to go in and the gold watch on his wrist. The tiny ticking noise that counts the seconds seems to fill the confined space of the back of the taxi and amplify with the feeling of his erratic heartbeat. His anxiety is suffocating him. He has to get out. The car door opens with a pop and closes with a click, and he's making his way to the other door he'd been eying. Aiden's gaze snaps from the clock to the front door as the little bells jingle announcing the arrival or departure of another person. He'd been doing this for the past ten minutes, always watching who passed through the door and briefly alerted those who were paying attention of their existence. A man in a crisp business suit strolls in, and Aiden feels something curl up and tug inside his chest, stealing his breath. His bond. His magic. His curse. So this is the man. This is Adam. Adam scans every person in the room with his perceptive eyes. There are many people, most of them were older teenagers and young adults, as is common in cafes such as this. When his gaze lands on one man sitting alone, he sees the same intensity stare right back at him. Something in his chest tightens, and the rest of the room fades away. He knows that this is his magical bond reacting to the person on the other end. So that means the man he's currently having a movie moment with is Aiden. Aiden stands from his seat just as Adam steps to the table. They share an awkward moment of not knowing what to do as they find themselves much closer than comfortable. After much mumbling and beginnings of gestures, both of them take a seat across from each other and settle in, trying to calm their nerves. Unbeknownst to them, the waitress that had seen Adam enter and the ensuing events that had unfolded is giggling to herself as she makes her way to their table. She thinks they're cute together. Once their order has been taken and they finally find themselves in an actual peaceful moment, the two men find themselves looking at each other. They each take in every detail of each other, finding things they had missed earlier on initial inspection and filing all of the information for later reflection. They had each thought that they were being subtle in their analyzing, but then they feel their eyes meeting again. An awkward beat passes as Aiden's cheeks flush with red and Adam bites the inside of his lip. They both try for a smile. It's enough for the moment to pass, but they're both still filled with such nervous energy. Their order arrives, and not a single word has passed between the two of them. There's no need for words at the moment. Through their bond, they can both feel the anxious tension. It brings a little relief, and their minds ease enough for speech. "So long time no see, huh?" Aiden nearly chokes out, his face beet red. Adam cracks a grin, and this time, the breath stolen from Aiden has nothing to do with their bond. He suddenly hopes that the other guy can't feel everything he's feeling through said bond. "Couldn't have said it better myself." Adam takes a sip from his latte. It's so hard to read him with the sunglasses covering his eyes. "How have you been?" Aiden winces at how bad he is at small talk. The thought that the guy at least doesn't seem mad at him only slightly reassures him. A dark eyebrow raises over a dark lens. "I've been good. You?" Aiden gulps visibly. How is Adam so calm? "Same here." He sips on his tea to occupy himself. The next few hours are much of the same thing. Catching up with old friend and blatantly ignoring the big issue that lies between them. They each slowly ease into comfortable chatter, and conversation becomes much more natural. Friendship blossoms once again. Though Aiden still stumbles over himself in embarrassment often, his blushes start changing with his subtle feelings for the other man. And though Adam still keeps his collected demeanor in place for the most part, the other man starts coaxing outbursts of emotions out of him without warning. When the dark of late evening creeps in and the customers have all but disappeared, neither of them want the night to end. So they agree to grab a taxi together and continue talking at Aiden's apartment nearby. Aiden takes the time to show Adam around his place, finding that he's not nearly as fearful about it as he would usually be. Adam is very much impressed by what the guy has managed to do with such a modest place, how lively and characteristic he's made it. Aiden feels like bouncing off the walls at the praise, only that might damage all the things Adam commented on. When they get back to the sitting room, they find themselves with another awkward moment. Neither knows what to say. They had exhausted most of the usual topics back at the cafe. They are at a loss. And to make things more awkward, they can each feel the bond they share, the feelings coming from one another. Once again, their feelings are in harmony. But that in itself is disharmony. For they both feel the attraction they feel towards each other. And they don't know what to do about it. They had successfully been ignoring it up until now. But in this moment, it fills the room, the apartment, the space between them. They're both so confused. And they both hate that. So of course there's only two solutions, two ways to make it stop. One is to leave, to cleanly cut it there and then. The other... The other could lead to so many things, so many possibilities, so many futures. And there's no way to take it back. The other option is difficult and complicated. But they both know that it's worth it. They both know that the other is worth it to them. So they stare at each other, their eyes searching and watching and asking and answering all at once. And then, they're kissing. It's a chaste kiss, an innocent yet passionate kiss, a first kiss. They're removing the space between them, the tension between them, the feelings between them, even the world around them, until they're the only things left. They're taking the more difficult option, the risk of being hurt, the chance of something wonderful coming out of it. Their magical bond hums between them and-- Aiden yelps and jumps back as he feels pain erupt from his hand. There's a thin line of blood growing across his palm. He stares at Adam in disbelief. But Adam is already weakly sinking to the ground. A jewel-encrusted dagger falls from his limp fingers, the gems glowing the same color as the liquid staining the blade. Their oath. Aiden catches Adam's slumping body, too shocked for tears. "Why?" is the only word that slips out of his mouth. "I made a deal with a witch." Adam's voice is still strong, but he's fading fast. "My life for the dagger. The dagger that just took away your magic." Aiden has a sudden flashback to the cafe. At some point, he had had a ten minute rant about how much he hated his "curse" of magic and never used it nor wanted it. "No... You shouldn't have. I... it wasn't worth it." Adam seems to read his mind. "It's not just that, Aiden. Our magic is a curse after all." He chuckles bitterly, ending with a cough. "You always were the smart one. Take off my glasses." With trembling fingers, Aiden obeys. And gasps. Adam's eyes are pure black, no irises or whites anywhere. Aiden is amazed that he can even see. "This is what our magic does eventually. The more you use it, the more damage it does. I'm so glad you never used it often." Another cough. "And now... and now you can't anymore. It can't hurt you anymore." "You could have just told me!" Aiden wails. "You didn't have to..." He gestures vaguely. "It gets more tempting too," Adam continues as if he didn't hear him. "I got addicted. You would have to. At some point. And it would have destroyed you. Like it's already destroyed me." He grasps at the other's arms. "I was a goner, Aiden. Don't blame yourself for this. It would've corrupted me even more. I would've lost control of myself. I... I'm happy knowing I could stop that, that I could save myself from that, and do something good as well." He looks straight into Aiden's eyes. "I'm happy I could save you." And then, he's gone. No dramatic gasp or contraction or movement. He just goes very, very still. And never moves again. And Aiden is left alone in his apartment. There's a body in his arms and a magical dagger on his floor and tears in his eyes and an ache in his heart, but he feels so, so much emptier than he had when he woke up alone this morning.
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