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cap_ironman2009-02-24 07:01 pm
simmysim.livejournal.com) wrote in cap_ironman2009-02-24 07:01 pm
Entry tags:
songs and a drabble
I thought you all might be interested in this: More than 1,500 songs from 1940 to 1945. I ALSO thought some members of the comm might not have connections that would lend themselves to easy downloading, so I spent a bit listening through. Here are some select, favorite songs, in two folders:
romantic songs and patriotic/war songs
Almost all the them reminded me of Steve/Tony in some capacity, so I guess think of them as sort of old school fanmixes! :D
I definitely recommend downloading the folders in their entirety, though, even as I write this up I'm discovering ones that probably should've been included.
Also I fell in love with one song in particular and then wrote this short thing~
Title: West Side of Heaven
Rating: G
Word Count: 500
Summary: Steve shares an old song with Tony.
Author's Notes: i leik steve/tony. thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
onewayfreak you are an absolute dream.
Yes, of course, Tony can dance, and classes his mother insisted on as a teen saw that he's excellent at it. Something he's certainly thankful for, he's yet to find anything as effortless and effective on the opposite sex as dancing -- no promises, no expectations, just a few rounds on a dance floor gains more ground than hours of mindless small talk.
He just never learned to follow.
Steve doesn't seem to mind, actually humming, but Tony's awkward, a beat behind Steve's movements. Being wrapped in the arms of someone larger and stronger, while enjoyable, is a bit different from pulling a slim waist close, and as much as he tries to relax, he's stiff.
It's hardly romantic. Steve's changed out of his uniform, but still stinks from an adrenaline rush of a recent battle -- there's flecks of a demolished something in his hair, and Tony's eyes are still blurred with just interrupted sleep. There's probably a bright red imprint of his table's rivets on his forehead, and the dark of his lab has reduced his projects, his brief love affairs to shadowy, treacherous silhouettes. Scattered across work tables and floor equally, and a thought of tripping over a random piece of machinery fades when he remembers just who he's dancing with.
But Steve is solid and warm, and when he surrenders, reducing the steps to simple swaying, Tony can work with that, lean into it, on to him, and Steve lets him. Tony can't recall a dance he's enjoyed more. Most post-battle rushes involve a deal more noise and touch and grinding, but this is fine, too. Steve's hum fading in and out in a distinct rhythm he can't place.
"What song is that?" he asks, voice still groggy, makes him sound more tired than he is.
Steve is smiling into his hair. "I thought you fell back to sleep."
Tony snorts. "I'm not that bad."
Steve doesn't contradict that blatant lie, instead picking up at the last bar he trailed off on, murmuring a few lines. Tony's not sure how it's supposed to sound, but through Steve's recently abused, barking-out-orders-in-the-heat-of-battle throat, it's rough and low, almost husky. "You're so enchanting people must stare, you're the dream that dreamers want to dream about. You're the breath of spring that lovers get about, all mad about." Steve voice cracks, and Tony smiles, bringing his arms up, circling Steve's waist.
"Don't know that one," he says.
"That's probably because it was made a lifetime before you were born," Steve says. Moves a hand to Tony's neck, the side of his face, strokes a thumb once. "Who wouldn't love you, who wouldn't buy--" his voice cracks again. "The west side of heaven if you just winked your eye? You're the answer to my every prayer, my darling, who wouldn't love you, who wouldn't care."
CHECK OUT SUM ARTS!
Almost all the them reminded me of Steve/Tony in some capacity, so I guess think of them as sort of old school fanmixes! :D
I definitely recommend downloading the folders in their entirety, though, even as I write this up I'm discovering ones that probably should've been included.
Also I fell in love with one song in particular and then wrote this short thing~
Title: West Side of Heaven
Rating: G
Word Count: 500
Summary: Steve shares an old song with Tony.
Author's Notes: i leik steve/tony. thank you
onewayfreak you are an absolute dream.Yes, of course, Tony can dance, and classes his mother insisted on as a teen saw that he's excellent at it. Something he's certainly thankful for, he's yet to find anything as effortless and effective on the opposite sex as dancing -- no promises, no expectations, just a few rounds on a dance floor gains more ground than hours of mindless small talk.
He just never learned to follow.
Steve doesn't seem to mind, actually humming, but Tony's awkward, a beat behind Steve's movements. Being wrapped in the arms of someone larger and stronger, while enjoyable, is a bit different from pulling a slim waist close, and as much as he tries to relax, he's stiff.
It's hardly romantic. Steve's changed out of his uniform, but still stinks from an adrenaline rush of a recent battle -- there's flecks of a demolished something in his hair, and Tony's eyes are still blurred with just interrupted sleep. There's probably a bright red imprint of his table's rivets on his forehead, and the dark of his lab has reduced his projects, his brief love affairs to shadowy, treacherous silhouettes. Scattered across work tables and floor equally, and a thought of tripping over a random piece of machinery fades when he remembers just who he's dancing with.
But Steve is solid and warm, and when he surrenders, reducing the steps to simple swaying, Tony can work with that, lean into it, on to him, and Steve lets him. Tony can't recall a dance he's enjoyed more. Most post-battle rushes involve a deal more noise and touch and grinding, but this is fine, too. Steve's hum fading in and out in a distinct rhythm he can't place.
"What song is that?" he asks, voice still groggy, makes him sound more tired than he is.
Steve is smiling into his hair. "I thought you fell back to sleep."
Tony snorts. "I'm not that bad."
Steve doesn't contradict that blatant lie, instead picking up at the last bar he trailed off on, murmuring a few lines. Tony's not sure how it's supposed to sound, but through Steve's recently abused, barking-out-orders-in-the-heat-of-battle throat, it's rough and low, almost husky. "You're so enchanting people must stare, you're the dream that dreamers want to dream about. You're the breath of spring that lovers get about, all mad about." Steve voice cracks, and Tony smiles, bringing his arms up, circling Steve's waist.
"Don't know that one," he says.
"That's probably because it was made a lifetime before you were born," Steve says. Moves a hand to Tony's neck, the side of his face, strokes a thumb once. "Who wouldn't love you, who wouldn't buy--" his voice cracks again. "The west side of heaven if you just winked your eye? You're the answer to my every prayer, my darling, who wouldn't love you, who wouldn't care."
CHECK OUT SUM ARTS!