Prompt: Pettorali Muscolosi
Adam goes to the Pride since he was five or six years old.
The tradition somehow started with Leo, but way before he came out as bisexual. Dave and Kurt would take part to the parade every year, bringing him along, in his stroller when he was too small to walk for so long and on Dave's shoulders when he was a little bit older.
One year, though, they were supposed to watch Adam because his mother was working on a Saturday. It happened often, both that they watched him and that his mother was working at the hospital over the week end. Adam remembers quite clearly when Dave came to their house to ask her if they could bring him along to the Pride. He had the carefulness of someone who is sort of expecting a very bad answer. Maybe he was afraid his mother was going to be outraged at the idea of her only son among those people and that she was going to take Adam away from Leo forever – which, looking back at it, would have been a real tragedy because at that point they were already attached at the hip. His best friend, the drama queen, would have let himself starve to death or something equally idiotic.
But his mother had never had any problem with gay people – and Dave should have known since Adam basically lived with them when he couldn't be at home – and she had been actually happy that they were taking him since she had no time to bring him herself. She had even bought two rainbows scarves and two tiny flags for him and Leo, and also drawn rainbows on their cheeks the morning of the parade, when she came around Leo's house to drop Adam off before going to work. After that, Adam had gone to the Pride with the Karofsky-Hummel family every year until he and Leo were big enough to go on their own.
Growing up, he had studied the history behind the Pride and he had been even more proud – pun not intended – to be part of a thing so much bigger than himself and that involved the parents of his best friend. He was an ally (and back then Leo was an ally as well)! At some point, when they were about ten or eleven, he and Leo had even started lecturing everyone they found holding a mean poster or shouting something offensive during the march.
The first Pride they went alone they were in 7th grade. Looking back at it, Leo was already Leo back then, but Adam couldn't notice. He remembers him, this tiny skinny thing, dancing like a madman on an ancient Madonna's song on the drag queens float. He was a total mess, cause he couldn't dance for his life, but he was so free and into the spirit of the event.
Then puberty hit him, hard. And Blaine's penis hit him harder. And everything, obviously, went downhill.
Going to the Pride with him now is a nightmare, and Annie doesn't help either because the moment she sees naked people, her brain turns off too. They took off the moment they arrived to follow some guy or other, and Adam has yet to see them again. He's trying to spot them in the crowd, but there are so many people – and so many rainbows – that even Annie's bright red hair and Leo's unruly mane are quite invisible.
Luckily, they find him. “Adam, you should have been there!” Annie pants, throwing herself in his arms and hugging him, in the grip of enthusiasm. Adam doesn't really know where to put his hands because she's basically naked. She's wearing some sort of tutu skirt that leaves her ass naked – and no those shorts are like panties and don't cover her at all – and a tank top so small that looks like she stole it from one of her little cousins.
“I strongly doubt it,” he mutters, right before Leo hugs him too and kisses him on his nose. He's got three rainbow scarves hanging from his jeans and at least four phone numbers scribbled in eye-pencil on his arms and cheeks. Plus, he managed to lose his shirt somewhere and he's too excited for Adam's taste. He knows that, like a kid on sugar rush, Leo becomes all touchy when he's happily exhausted. Exactly like when he's drunk, but minus the balance problem, so twice as dangerous.
“He was a-mazing,” Leo sighs, hanging from Adam's shoulder like a rag out to dry.
“The hottest man who ever lived,” Annie says, with dreamy eyes.
“He was, like, a statue, Adam.”
“Just imagine, okay? Tall and tanned...”
“With blond hair...”
“And the darkest eyes I've ever seen!”
At this point, Adam is ready to die – God, please, free me – but they are not finished, they want to destroy him. They are his best friends, but they have no mercy. “And those pecs!” They scream together.
“I could have stared at them for hours,” Annie says.
“I could have licked them for the rest of the week,” adds Leo. “God, I'm so horny now.”
Annie chuckles, the glitter on her cheeks catches a ray of sun and she just seems to shine. Adam has to look away, this time. “He let us sit on his float.” Annie and Leo looks at each other and starts laughing.
“Annie would have gladly sat on something else too, actually.” Leo sends her a kiss with his hand and she just pushes him playfully. Adam wants to die again.
“Shut up! You were all over him too!” She accuses him, even pointing a finger. “Adam, seriously, scold him. He was throwing himself at him.”
“Isn't that what he does every week end? Throwing himself at strangers?” Adam snorts. “I'm surprised he doesn't have a date with the man tonight.”
“I don't,” Leo shakes his head.
“I'm going out with him tonight,” Annie says, nodding.
“I've a date with him on Tuesday,” Leo adds.
Adam looks at them shocked. “You know he asked both of you out and you said yes?”
They both shrugs. “It's not like I'm gonna marry him,” Annie says.
“And I already have a boyfriend,” Leo reminds him. “I don't need another one.”
That said, Leo grabs Annie by the hand and they're gone again. They call him too, but Adam doesn't follow them. Someone has to stay behind so they can be free to get lost in the crowd and have a safe place to come back to. He's marching for that too, right?
Title: Of cats and mages
Setting: The Arcana
Asra never really sits on anything, Julian noticed. He spends most of his time sprawled on pillows and couches, or on the bed. And when he's not, he's snuggled, like a cat.
Like a cat, he's languid and mysterious, and delightfully flexible. He likes to purr, even, and ask for cuddles that he then abruptly stops when he deems them too many. He doesn't scratch – except for the deep wounds that he opens in his heart every time he leaves – but he bites a lot. Julian is covered in his marks. His neck, his chest, his inner thighs, all bear signs of Asra's passage over his body.
He sleeps a lot, but he's full of energy when he's awake. He likes to hunt his preys, even if only between the sheets. Julian remembers several nights when he suddenly woke up and found Asra looking at him in the darkness of his bedroom at the shop, those purple eyes alight and eerie like will o' the wisp. Confused and sleepy, he would call his name in a whisper -- almost afraid that, like a dream, he could vanish -- and in response Asra was on him, roughly and hungrily, his body warm like fire, but his fingertips cold like claws with magic.
Like a cat, he is precious and vain. He likes to be loved, but he hates cages. He wants to be adored, but he needs to be free. He hisses when you trap him, and yet comes back when you dare to ignore him for too long. And maybe that's exactly why Julian doesn't understand it, because he's more of a dog person. Dogs, like him, are simple creatures. They want someone to obey and adore and love.
But Asra eludes him, like cats and life itself.
Prompt: You have no control on who lives who dies who tells your story
“I don't think I get it,” Blaine says, watching the board with such empty eyes that Leo starts worrying that he's becoming senile ahead of time.
“It's not that hard, Blaine. This game dates back to your time, actually even before that. It's, like, a game that has always existed since there were nerds to play it,” he points out. “I don't believe you never played Dungeons and Dragons before.”
“No, I did play Dungeons and Dragons. In fact, I was in a party with your aunt Rachel, and your dad was the master,” Blaine informs him. “But it was something, like, twenty manuals ago. I don't really recognize any of these rules.”
“It's easy, really,” Adam interjects. He's been there where Blaine is right now, in a dark place when he has no idea what he's supposed to be doing and, most of all, why he accepted to be sitting around a table for six or seven hours, trying to kill imaginary enemies with imaginary weapons pretending to be in a magical place that is not a living room. “Just think that you have no control on who lives, who dies or who tells the story of your character that Leo has forced you to write before we started and that he will probably tell the way he wants to. Once you get that, everything else is irrelevant.”
“It's not exactly like that,” Leo says from behind the screens.
“I take Adam's explanation,” Blaine instantly says, throwing the dice. He knows that Leo's infodumps can last for hours, and he would like to go to bed before dawn at least. He's too old to skip sleep.
"Fine," Leo murmurs. "Then you see that there's a door in front of you. It looks like a normal door, with a normal handle. What do you do?"
"Well, I open it."
Adam and Annie screams at once, "No!"
Leo grins. "The door is not a door, is a magical gate. The three of you fall into it and find yourself in a completely different land."
And just like that, this game will never end.