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nutty1005 · 2 years ago

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Cover Story | Xiao Zhan: Rift

Original Article: https://weibo.com/ttarticle/p/show?id=2309404886388649624013 Original Author: 时尚先生Esquire This article was originally published on 3 Apr on Esquire’s Weibo.

The April Cover Story

I’m beginning to know myself. I don’t exist. I’m the rift between what I’d like to be and what others have made of me, Or half of this rift, since there’s also life… That’s me. Period. Turn off the light, shut the door, and get rid of the slipper noise in the hallway. Leave me alone in my room with the vast peace of myself. It’s a shoddy universe.

-- Fernando Pessoa “I’m Beginning to Know Myself”

Brown knitted shirt – TOD’S Brown long pants – TOD’S

Deep blue jacket – TOD’S Deep blue long pants – TOD’S

“There is already two Xiao Zhans, one of them is here, that’s me.” Early February, while filming in Chongqing Mount Xiannü scenic area, Xiao Zhan said as he ate. “There is another Xiao Zhan, the Xiao Zhan in quotes, but he is probably not me anymore. We are all working for him, including myself.”

Xiao Zhan set his chopsticks down, opened his hands and faced the palms at each other, like gesturing a small shapeless box.

Like before; same as most people; really nothing special; just want to do this job well; did not actually think so much; do not know what else he can do; just staying alone — in the narration related to Xiao Zhan, no matter whether it’s Xiao Zhan or the staff around him, from time to time, when faced with the questions suspended in the air, they could only end with these phrases.

To a celebrity,most of them have a contradictory mentality. On the one hand, people are used to a world of labels, using a few words to summarize a stranger, unwilling to spend any effort; on the other hand, the impulse to explore attracts us to question labels, seeking out the more familiar emotions and human nature. For Xiao Zhan, this contradiction is particularly prominent: He has hardly any labels, and no one can accurately find these few; at the same time, the closer people are to him, the more we will find that his life is exactly one that is most familiar to us, and because it’s so familiar, we start to suspect that it’s not real.This contradiction is like a rift. Xiao Zhan is just doing everything he should be doing within this rift.

1. The House on the Hill

Deep blue jacket – TOD’S White singlet, Black long jeans – Personal belongings

When he was young, usually before Chinese New Year, Xiao Zhan had to climb a hill to pay respects to his ancestors. He felt then that Chongqing was really too big, the hills were so distant, and in order to climb that hill he had to walk so far. Early morning, just after waking up, he had to follow the adults, setting off from his home, taking the public bus to the central station, switching bus, going from the southern district of Chongqing to the north of the river, crossing the river, then he would only arrive at the entrance to the hill. This was in the 1990s, that road then was still a muddy road that was created by years of villagers’ footsteps. There were wild grass by the road, and the road was narrow, less than a meter wide, so cars could not drive in. Xiao Zhan remembered that the road under his feet would be barely visible, clear for a while, blur for a while, and if it was a rainy day, the road would be very slippery, and the children would run ahead. Children would always dash to the very front, the adults would always yell from behind, it’s wrong, it’s wrong, not that side, it’s this side.

There were no landmarks, no GPS, Xiao Zhan and his family found their ancestral home by the road on that hill just by memory. It was a dark brown wooden house. The house was probably a hundred years old, it used to be the home to the parents of Xiao Zhan’s grandmother, or even grandparents of his grandmother. Of course, there is no one living there now. Xiao Zhan walked in the old house, he remembered that the first floor had 2 bedrooms, the second floor also had a small bedroom, the first floor led to the second floor with a wooden ladder. An old stove which burned firewood. The entire house was made of wood, there was a small courtyard outside of the house, and there seemed to be a pomegranate tree inside.

White singlet, Black long jeans – Personal belongings

This was a necessary trip in the big family. When they were on the hill, there were a lot of activities, Xiao Zhan would gather wild onions, pluck carrots and dig for wild vegetables with his elder cousins, and they also tried to setup a fire to cook. When tired from playing, sometimes he would also try to stay by himself for a while. He saw that there were small hills behind this big hill, so he left his family and climbed up that small hill, starting a child’s exploration. When he was at the back of the hill, there was no one around him, he would stay there quietly alone, looking at the greenish black shadows of the faraway hills. His family would usually stay on the hill for a day, and only come down in the evening.

“A child will not fear,” he recalled his then-self, “only someone, who is grown up, will.” Looking at the hazy faraway hills, he really wanted to walk over — a child never lacked courage — then he felt, no matter how difficult the road would be, he could climb up with his hands and legs. But later on, as he slowly grew older, going to middle school, to university, when he came to this hill again, he did not dare to climb it as boldly and casually as he did as a child.

His most recent time to this hill was a few years ago. Now the road had been rebuilt, the highway could go straight to the foot of the hill. Xiao Zhan and his family would drive to the foot of the hill, but they would still need to climb it with their legs. They walked towards that road that they have walked on over and over again throughout the years. As a child, Xiao Zhan felt that adult’s legs could walk so fast, but now, he stayed in Chongqing less and less, and discovered that his parents were getting old and could not walk after walking for a while. He and his elder cousins carried the luggage, one step by one step, that long and tiring journey in their memories – they had to walk past so many places, such as a bamboo forest, an area of grave mounds, signifying a milestone for each segment – but this time it seemed to be shorter, without knowing it, in just a few steps, they had reached that door of the old house. Looking back on the journey, that big bamboo forest of his childhood seems to be just a small pile now. Those terrifying groups of grave mounds, only seemed to be two or three now. And then those small hills, it took so much time to climb up as a child, but now he seemed to be able to step onto it by gently lifting his legs. As for those steep ridges in his memory, it seemed that the slope had also flattened. The muddy road was gone, the winding mountain road in black asphalt shone in the sun.

The hill used to be so far, used to be so tall, Xiao Zhan now thought, but as time goes by, the hill was no longer faraway, and also not as tall anymore. Then, he was just a common Chongqing child, now, a lot of people know that his name is Xiao Zhan. However, what remained unchanged is that the hill is still without a name.

2. The Factory District in the Dreams

Now, Xiao Zhan would still dream of the places he lived in as a child, that factory district that represented the entire world then. The factory district seemed to belong to a certain car parts production company – Small District 1, Small District 2, Small District 3, Small District 4, Small District 5. He already forgot exactly which district he stayed in – the houses in the factory district looked very similar, 7 to 8 storeys high, one by one, it was a patch of grey in his memory. He had many playmates of the same age in the factory district. After finishing their homework, like other places in the whole country, the children would run down the buildings, the shouts came one after another, echoing in the air. “So-and-so come down quickly! So-so is already down here!” After playing until 8pm or 9pm, mothers would look out of their windows, shouting down in the dark: “So-and-so, come home! So-so, bed time!”

Brown knitted shirt – TOD’S

Soccer, hide-and-seek, hiding in a grass mound or a turn, some dark, unnoticeable corner. The scariest place in the factory district is an abandoned canal, the entrance was very big, the people were so tall, it was pitch black inside, nothing could be visible. Bats would fly out once in a while. Bolder children would walk in with a lit firewood. Xiao Zhan has never gone inside before, it was too dark inside, he would look at them from afar.

Injuries from falls were common, children would fall onto the ground as they ran, so did Xiao Zhan, he had quite a few scars on his knees. Now, looking at these scars from childhood, he felt that these were possibly the more realistic life instead. Now everything seemed more unreal, fantasy. There were no mobile phones and internet then, it seemed like every moment of the life then remained here, like a photograph, paused in his memory, left in his heart. Xiao Zhan still remembered now, sometimes his parents would not allow him to go downstairs, worried that he would play too wildly. He would stay alone in his room, resting against the windowsill looking down. He could still recall what he saw then – the neighbor’s balcony, the flowerpots on the balcony, the clothes drying in the sun, the garden downstairs, the small path in the garden. He could remember everything clearly. When he was in third or fourth grade in elementary school, he would fold paper airplanes, flying them down from the fifth storey. One paper airplane would fly very far, until it flew to the balcony opposite. He would frequently dream of running the the factory district, at the places meant for children to run. In those dreams, Xiao Zhan did not seem to have left the place and came back. He remembered his mood in the dream – I am still here, I’m just tired from playing, climb upstairs, go home, I want to have a nap in my bedroom.

Xiao Zhan’s home was on the fifth storey then. When going upstairs, the staircase was old, and many lights did not light up. Every time he walked until the third storey, he always had to take a deep breath due to the fear of the dark, dash up to the fourth floor with “thud, thud, thud” sounds, there would be light at the fourth storey. Now, intermittently, he would still dream of that dark third storey passageway. It was pitch black in his dreams, nothing would be visible, and there was something in an unknown corner. There was once that made a deep impression on him, he had already walked past the darkness of the third storey and reached the fifth storey, but there were still no light. Faced with the familiar front door, he reached out his hands in his dream, tried to turn the door knob with strength but he could not turn it, he clenched his fists to pound on the door, but there was no one at home. He could not open that door no matter what, so he stood fruitlessly in that passageway in his dreams.

Brown knitted shirt – TOD’S Brown long pants – TOD’S

Like everyone else, sometimes Xiao Zhan would also dream of examinations. He would always wake up in a fright. There was once it was a mathematics teacher, who was quite fierce. Actually he quite liked that teacher, but in the dream, the teacher looked at him and said, what’s wrong with you, how did you not know how to do a single question? He looked at the functions on his book, dazed, “Why do I still remember functions? I can’t do a single question, I’m gone.”

The factory district was the whole world, it was almost vast without boundaries. To go out of the factory district, he had to get prior approval from his parents, just like going abroad. He was reading encyclopedia then, every set had 4 books, one of the book described Earth and the Universe, there was a picture on the book, showing the layers of the Earth’s mantle, and there were still many layers below the crust. He thought that Earth was like that, and then remembered that there was an especially large rock in the garden downstairs. He later called for his buddies to the rock, and suggested, let’s move it, below would be magma, that’s really how the Earth looked like.

Now when he recalled, his thoughts then were childish and laughable, but as he savored, he still did not know why he was so persistent on that rock, persistent on the true face of the Earth – it was just a normal rock, a child, but he wanted to see the entire Universe behind it.

3. City of Mountains

Deep blue jacket – TOD’S Deep blue long pants – TOD’S

The Chongqing in Xiao Zhan’s memory was very old, but also very new. He remembered in the movie theaters, during the 1990s, his parents brought him to watch “Lover’s Grief over the Yellow River”, “Lotus Lantern” and “Anaconda”. He had to squeeze in the public bus to visit the People’s Liberation Monument. It was really difficult to squeeze onto the bus. Probably because everyone wanted to occupy up a seat. He could not remember the exact routes – it could be starting with “3”, after getting onto the bus, people would argue over the seats, sometimes they would even fight. That bus route was too rowdy, there would always be something like this happening. On the bus, Xiao Zhan would look out of the window, the bus would have a long period of quiet and tranquil road after passing the lower city district, on both sides of the windows, there would be scenes of an antiquated city. But after crossing the Changjiang Bridge, in a blink, he would have entered an optimistic, contemporary modern city. This was already the upper city district, that time, Chongqing was already starting to build skyscrapers. As to the lower city district, the area nearest to the river had most of the old houses, and now most of them had been demolished. That kind of city view was very mesmerizing, Xiao Zhan felt that now, he seemed to be within history, within the lingering understated past, but yet he could see the brilliant glass walls of the skyscrapers as he looked up, as though these mysterious things of the passing future were about to take him away.

And also the Datianwan Stadium in the Yuzhong district. The era of C League soccer. Chongqing’s home match was massively popular all over the country. His father would bring him to watch soccer, Chongqing Lifan FC, in 1997, 1998, 1999 and 2000 – the best years of Chongqing FC, the stadium would always be full of tens of thousands of people, everyone yelling “Chongqing, rise up!” in unison. Xiao Zhan was young then, he did not understand, look at the full stadium of dense crowd of heads, he just felt it was lively.

That was still the era of newspapers. When he was young, Xiao Zhan’s family subscribed to Chongqing Business Daily, he liked to read newspapers, so many pages, and he would almost flip through all of them. Later, after a few years, he was grown up, there was free Chongqing Morning News on the light rail, and he would also get a copy habitually. He would first read social news usually, from top to bottom, sometimes, he had not arrived at his stop after reading the entire newspaper, and he would go back to the front page and read from the beginning again.

That was also the era of pen pals. In school, teachers would encourage students to make pen pals – perhaps to train essay composition ability, he also made one, sending each other letters, talking about weather, sunlight and Chongqing’s rain. But there were only 2 rounds of letters. However, he still remembered how he was anticipating his letter. After sending the letter, after a week, he would come to the communication room in school, checking the class letterbox. Flipping up his hand, opening the cover, looking for the letter that writes “Xiao Zhan” from the thick stack of envelopes.

Time moves forward in some kind of order like flowing water. Middle school. High school. University. When taking the entrance exams for universities, he wrote down art related ambitions, his results were way head of Chongqing’s score line, and he could also participate in the entrance examinations in other schools in the whole country. The teacher asked Xiao Zhan, are you sure you want to pick Chongqing? Why don’t you go out and try, such as to Beijing or to Zhejiang, have a look at China Academy of Art.

He said he did not want to. Xiao Zhan was very clear, Chongqing was quite fine. He loved Chongqing too much. If he were not an actor, he would not need to go so many places, he might have stayed here all the time. But, he also thought now, everything is unknown, if there was a parallel world, he might not be in Chongqing long ago. It was not that he deliberately wanted to leave, nor deliberately wanted to stay, it was just that he did not have a clear destination, he did not have to be at somewhere.

Deep blue jacket – TOD’S Deep blue long pants – TOD’S

Now he has already forgotten the name of the road on his way to work. His friend recommended him, he posted his resume, passed his interview. That design company was in an industrial park in Chongqing, he also could not remember if it was the second or third storey. After walking in, there were rows and rows of workstations, the company was not big, about 10 people or so. Work started at 9am, knocking off at 6pm, clocking twice a day. He set off from home, riding on public transport, passing a bridge. He sat if there were seats, if not he stood. Sometimes it was jammed, sometimes it did not. During work meetings, he would sit by the sides – like almost everyone else, he wanted to sit on the seat furthest away from the boss. His work comprised of image construction and drawing. They wore earphones and drew while listening to music. The entire atmosphere of the company was duller, the dark industrial style, with the air conditioner making muffled sounds indoors. If it was an overcast rainy day, the room would be even darker. He did not smoke, sat near a colleague who smoked at his seat, there would be some smoke in the air once in a while, but he felt that was inconsequential. Sometimes, if the client wanted something urgently, they would spend the night working overtime. When he left in the morning, his head would feel a bit heavy, Xiao Zhan would walk into the nearby convenience store, just buying some snacks.

If it was raining when they knocked off, then it would be a little frustrating. Xiao Zhan had to walk up a hill to take public transport, and the rain will flow down the road while he was walking up towards it, as good as walking up against the flow, just a few steps, his shoes would be completely wet. He was already tired, and his whole body would be sticky from the rain, and now his shoes were filled with water, he would wait for public transport in frustration. There were a lot of people knocking off, he might not be able to get on the first transport, so he had to continue standing, waiting for the next one again.

When he got his salary, he would give a portion to his parents and leave some for himself. He did not smoke, drink, at most he went to KTV with his friends, rarely visited the malls. When the season changed and he really needed clothes, he would then think of buying a couple. He always maintained this habit – buy only what he lacked, and he would buy directly, never going to the mall first.

4. Face and Drama

Now, after waking up, Xiao Zhan would stand in front of the mirror. In the mirror, his hair was messy, sometimes his face would be slightly swollen. He thought, if someone saw him in this state, what would they think? He had to be responsible for his image. As an artist, he rightfully had to care about his image. He loved to eat bread, but carbohydrates causes edema, he would have single eyelids when filming drama. So he had to control his cravings. There was one drama, he had to eat skewers of meat in the scene, so he went hungry first for a while. There was one period of time he would not drink water after 6pm. There was a while, he was thinner than his usual weight by 20 catty (12kg). But he felt that there was nothing to say about these, these were just work needs.

His face makes him seem younger. A lot of people who met him would ask him how old he was. He liked to pretend that he had been through a lot and say 30 plus. But people would just feel that this person just looks like he’s 20 plus. He would say thank you. But looking younger is not always something good. When he had to portray a role of someone who had a certain age, looking younger was an obstacle in crafting the character. Once, he met some of the older actors in the drama, he observed their expressions, their facial movements. He noticed that the edge of a person’s lips would turn downwards as they grew older, he also learned to turn the edge of his lips down. And he had to learn the gaze – he usually looks at something in focus, looks in concentration, those were the gaze of a youth, he went on to observe the older actors, and discovered that they squinted as they looked at people, out of focus, not caring and not trying hard, he learned those, looked at himself in the mirror again, and it seemed like he finally looked a little like it. Of course, he was not simply pursing the sense of age, but because the story required it, he wanted to sculpt his character more fully, so that audiences will not feel out of character.

He started body building, training muscles deliberately, at the end of 2020. He used to jog habitually, but because he had to act as someone physically strong in a drama, he started body building, and this habit remained until now. Now, even when in the makeup room, he would also look for time to do some high efficiency training movements, or jog. But as always, there were always some voices who worry that he would destroy the image he once had. He also did not want to draw his hair longer, and also did not want to have bangs during styling. His team would always tell him, listen to everyone’s voices, you looked better that way. Sometimes, he would deliberately make himself more rough on purpose, and there would indeed be people who would be angry – and many people would be angry, some times there would be voices telling him, you don’t want to train – this face is his, but there are countless people looking, countless people giving requests, this face, the face in the mirror, Xiao Zhan looked at it, sometimes he would think that it belonged to him, but it also seemed to belong to other people.

Would it be an obstacle in his acting career being considered good-looking? Someone had asked him that more than once. This might be the same dilemma for good-looking celebrities. He would think so too. But he could not do anything deliberately. Everything had to depend on the script, on the plot and on the needs of the character. If he were to portray a youth in an urban drama, he thought, being ugly on purpose was not correct too. If the story is worthwhile and needed him to change this face, then he also had enough passion and willingness to change for the role. This face could help him, but he also knew that he had to put in more effort sometimes.

Now, he thought, perhaps it was more important to find the balance. Those who like him, some would always stay on, and some will leave. He is just walking forward step by step, just like climbing a hill as a child, with this ever-changing face of Xiao Zhan.

Brown hooded sweater – TOD’S Brown long pants – TOD’S

When reading the script, Xiao Zhan would always have some little thoughts – if he were an audience now, looking from the third party perspective, this story, could this script move him, could he empathize with the character, he was very afraid to become a wandering spirit in the scene, just standing there reciting lines. He knew that empty recitation of lines had no meaning. In an ancient period drama that was full of emotions, those days, he was always analyzing how to speak, such that the audiences’ hearts would wrench for him. The best classes were of course acting with better actors. He was not afraid that audiences saying that he was not as good as these veteran actors. He was more concerned about whether he had improved in the drama, and if he had learned new things.

When he first started acting, Xiao Zhan did what the director told him to do. But actually until now, he still did not know whether which expression or action of his was considered “good” on the camera – he truly did not know where the standard was, and no one discussed such questions with him – what kind of face is correct? Those so-called actor face, movie face, model face, idol face, these mysterious words, what were the differences between them? His criterion for judging was very simple, that is just to look at the picture itself, and see if that face in the scene could move himself.

Now, Xiao Zhan would have dreams when arriving at a new drama group. He would frequently dream of the director looking for him, telling him how to perform a scene. “But I can’t even remember the lines” – he would think so in a panic in the dream, then he would wake up suddenly in a fright. He would be unable to sleep, so he got off the bed, came to the table, holding a pen to mark on the script, searching for those unreasonable places, and continued to memorize his lines.

One of the ways to relieve stress was to run. Now it was not as convenient as before to run, there was always someone following. In 2016, he had just debuted and lived at Yuelianghe, and in order to look photogenic, he would always run along the small river next to it. Later on, there was a drama and he went to Zhejiang Xiangshan. Every night, as long as there were no night scenes, he would go jogging. It was very hot in the summer, and Xiangshan then was empty and faraway, there were some vast and endless farmlands – it was unlike the Xiangshan he visited a few years later, it had completely turned into a bustling scene – there were wheat fields, rice fields in the countryside, especially beautiful. After dark, he ran along the concrete road at the edge of the fields. There were often big cars driving on the road. For safety, he would turn on the flash of his mobile phone so that passing cars could see the light and notice the people. Sometimes he would run alone, sometimes he would run with other actors. After running for a while, his body would be soaking wet, but it was very comfortable, it was hot and cool at the same time. Sometimes as he ran, it would start raining – Xiao Zhan was just Xiao Zhan at this time, he felt – during this moment, he completely belonged to himself.

I am the rift between that person that I want to become And that person that other people make me to be

Since his debut, from his first drama until now, Xiao Zhan’s every character had not repeated. Every time, when receiving a new script, be it him or his team, they would always ask, are you really accepting this character? Confirming that you want to film this drama? They would repeatedly screen, repeatedly reconsider, hoping that there would be new improvements in each role, and every role would also be different from Xiao Zhan.

What he himself thought of it. There did not seem to be an easy answer. Filming dramas, filming commercials, some public events, besides these, Xiao Zhan would stay alone most of the time. On the set, Xiao Zhan would be like a bat burrowing back into its cave, he would burrow into his hotel room, and stayed inside as long as he could; usually, he would stay at home, of course, except for the driver who picks him up to work, few people knew where he stayed – it was like a habit, and more like an instinct – he estimated that even if he switched to a different career, he would still not like sitting in a café or a bar. He did not like to go to crowded places before, so his current job is surprisingly suitable for him – after knocking off he could stay alone, watching dramas by himself, playing games by himself, doing push-ups and things he wanted to do.

Deep blue jacket – TOD’S

There were many problems that could be understood when alone – of course there were those you could not understand, Xiao Zhan’s method was to not think about them for the time being. He had to solve problems himself, he rarely took the initiative to tell others. Confiding to others was phrase far away from him. His friends would tell him, if he was under pressure, he should tell others, confide, and vent. He disagreed. If the problem could be resolved, then he could understand it, those that could not be resolved would only increase troubles by speaking out. He would rather try to do something new. This could be considered as his experience. People are constantly encountering new problems, and when new matters meet new problems, then the old problems would be forgotten, and at this time, the answers would become obvious: this proved that the previous problem was not so important. Even if those important problems were forgotten, they would resurface in some quiet dead of night – like a huge wave crashing over a lone lost ship, at this moment, Xiao Zhan felt that there was still no solution.

The problem was not about confiding, he thought. Even if he told a hundred people, the problem would still exist there, unresolved, and it would float back in the middle of the night.

He had been like this since his university days, because he did not confide and he was unwilling to express, he became someone who gave others a sense of security instead, he would be caught by his friends, his role was a living listening ear. But, on the one hand, in order to help his friends, he would always listen; and then forget after listening, on the other hand, he had to block these off as much as possible, when someone wanted to confide in him he would first ask: “Are you saying something related to me? If it’s not related to me then don’t say it, I really don’t want to hear it.” He felt that it was difficult to keep secrets for others, so he tried his best not to listen to other people’s privacy – there was a risk in listening, if the secret was revealed, then he would become a suspect, he did not want to be a suspect, and even more so he did not want to have to prove his integrity to his friends later on: “I did not say that, I did not betray you.” That would be ridiculous, he thought.

Now, he spends very little time alone. When it was extravagant, he could get 3 days in a row. During this time, he and his staff tried to not communicate with each other as much as possible, each working on their own matters, leaving space – so that he could return to his small universe, this was a habit at first, then it became tacit understanding, and now it became a fact. Once in a while they would encounter a little trouble at work, Xiao Zhan would be able to draw some energy from his body and firmly control the matter. There was an event, it was a rare accident, it was time to go onstage, but they were still on the way, after getting out of the car, Xiao Zhan rushed to the stage, the host was improvising, filling in the time sentence by sentence. Walking onto the stage, Xiao Zhan remembered, his heart was still pounding wildly, he suppressed it first, then sent the words out of his mouth. But no one saw any flaws – his control was too good, too steady, and like many times before, the staff was sure that he really had a small universe with him.

“I’m going to leave” – sometimes, maybe he was a little tired, or he wanted to relieve stress suddenly, he would crack such a joke – just a joke, but with a serious expression. What is he going to do after leaving? Maybe he will be a florist, or open an art gallery, he said. Going anywhere would be fine – as long as he is alone, back to the factory district of his childhood, the viewing stands of Datianwan, or the public bus to People’s Liberation Monument. He could also run back to the door that could not be opened in the fifth storey, or back to his job as a designer. If he continued running, he would back to that hill in his childhood. The hill used to be so far, so tall, but as time went on, the hill was no longer far, and no longer as tall. A lot of people know that his name is Xiao Zhan, but that hill continued to be without a name.

But, if he were to really leave, He probably might not. He is just here, Now is his most appropriate place – Between that person he wants to be and that person people expect him to be, Within this rift, he continuously moves forward.

#xiaozhan #xiao zhan #sean xiao #肖战

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kwisatzworld · 1 year ago

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ER: From Mugello you sent two messages to Valentino, first holding up a sign on the grid and then wearing the VR46 T-shirt on the podium. He didn’t take it well, and when he came back for the German GP at Sachsenring and he was asked about it he shot down the question with a comment like ‘Next question?’ How did you take that? Were you surprised by his reaction? JL: Obviously I wasn’t truly hurt by his crash. I don’t know him and I don’t have any kind of feeling of friendship towards him. I just did it as a nod towards a colleague and a team-mate. Valentino has taught me a lot and without Valentino on track a victory doesn’t have the same importance because there is a very strong rival missing, but as a team-mate and a fellow-rider I just wanted to make a gesture to him, so that he would see it and be cheered up a little for a moment. I know that he saw it in a critical or defensive way, as if I was trying to win over his fans. In fact, before doing it I asked William Favero [Yamaha communications director], who has a close relationship with him, and Max [a close friend of Rossi’s who works in the Yamaha hospitality] if they thought he would like the gesture and they said ‘Yes!’ That’s why I didn’t really understand his reaction. Even his mum was quoted in a newspaper the next day saying ‘What a nice gesture from Lorenzo.’ From that point I thought, ‘Shit, he didn’t like it... quite the opposite!’ He saw it as me poking fun at him or trying to win over his fans and friends. Anyway, now I know how to act in that situation and in the future I won’t do it again, obviously, although I would do it for any other rider like I did for de Puniet at Laguna Seca. But for him, never again.

Valentino Rossi on the cover of GQ Italia October 2010 ph. James Mollison

#jorge lorenzo #i found this

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years ago

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GF & MvsM - Wanna Talk About Dinos?

This crossover was inevitable. It just works too well. Maybe one day i’ll write a fic about how the folks at Gravity Falls handled the robot-apocalypse. Probably shrugged it off. “Eh. We’ve had worse.” Haha! What if Stan and Ford, cuz they were out sailing, had no clue what happened and when they came back they were like, “Wait, what?”

For now, please enjoy this fic of Aaron making a new friend...

(credit goes to @stephreynaart for her OC Jacob) ~~~~~~~~~~ “Hi, would you like to talk to me about dinosaurs?”

Aaron asked this question more times than he could keep track of, but that wasn’t going to stop him from asking it. It started as a dare from his big sister two years ago, but now it’s a fun hobby. When fifth grade isn’t overwhelming him, scaring him with mountains of homework and horror stories about how hard middle school is going to be, and when he’s run out of YouTube videos to catch up on, he is on the hunt for fellow giant-lizard-lovers like a hungry Ceratosaurus.

“No, okay bye.” But it did get a little tiring to always cross out names and phone-numbers on the phone book with red ink. Hey, a dinosaur of a way to find phone-numbers was appropriate. He read the next number, dialed it, and after a ring or two he asked, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs? No, okay thank you.”

Aaron crossed out another name and sighed, taking a break since he reached the end of a line of numbers. Maybe he should just be grateful for Abbey and accept that no one else wants to talk about the Jurassic Period. Or the Cretaceous Period. Or the Triassic Period. But then a big, old, gray-tinted ad distracted him. He grinned, thinking it would at least be fun to give them a call, and he dialed the number.

Private home phone-numbers were fun, but businesses were also fun! Poor, bored workers would gladly talk to him rather than crabby Karens, and they got paid for it! So Aaron smiled as the phone rang, and he grinned when someone picked up.

“Thanks for calling the Mystery Shack, you’re talking to Mr. Mystery himself! How may I befuddle or bewilder you?”

“Hi! How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

“Oh, dude! I’d love to, but I’m scheduled for a tour of the Oddity Museum in three minutes.” The man said, and Aaron grinned continuously, because it sounded like Mr. Mystery really wanted to talk with him about dinosaurs. “But hey! Can you hold on for one minute, I think I know a guy!”

“Yeah, sure mister!” And Aaron was greeted by the sound of a catchy jingle about buying t-shirts and mugs and snowglobes. He smiled and wiggled his feet along to the music as he looked outside at the beautiful late-fall afternoon, entertained while he waited.

~~~~~~~~~~

Soos was on the hunt. He planned out the house in his head. Abuelita was taking a nap upstairs, Melody was organizing the upcoming tour, and Stan took Jacob out for ice cream, so he might be…

The owner of the Shack grinned when he stopped at the doorway and saw the man he was looking for, sitting in Stan’s chair, reading a book.

“Uncle Ford!”

The old sailor smiled up at the young man. “Yes, wh-...”

“Do you think you could answer the phone for me? I have a tour and I think this customer’s request is right up your alley.”

“Uh… sure, but w-...”

“Thanks, you’re the best!” And Soos was gone before he could address Ford’s confusion.

Ford was a bit lost, having little to no business with business, but he had learned at this point to trust Soos, so he picked up the phone beside him and was immediately greeted with a sweet, “How would you like to talk with me about dinosaurs?”

Ford grinned and closed his book. “I would love to! All three periods are equally as fascinating to study, but the Triassic contains some of my favorite dinosaurs!”

A young voice gasped on the other line. “Mine, too! Everyone thinks the Jurassic period is so great, and it’s pretty cool, but the Triassic gave us Plateosaurus and the Brachiosaurus!”

“That’s very true! You know, it’s very interesting, maybe depictions don’t include feathers at all, which is a bit frustrating, but perhaps after the news has spread they will incorporate more feathers on merchandise and textbooks.”

“YES! That’s what I wanna do when I grow up, help draw better-accurate dinosaurs!”

~~~~~~~~~~

The phone rang on Sunday. The Shack was closed today, so Stan lazily answered it and was greeted with, “Wanna talk about dinosaurs?”

“Sixer, phone for you!”

Ford ran into the living room, elbowed his twin out of the chair, and took the phone. “Hello again, Aaron! Now, where were we? Right, so Australopithecus. … No, I don’t think… Oh! No, homo habilis was erect, Australopithecus was never fully erect.”

“Maybe he was nervous.” Stan groaned, getting to his feet.

Ford shot him a look as thankfully the young boy on the other end didn’t catch that and happily shared some more fun-facts about homo habilis.

~~~~~~~~~~

While most college students were excited for Spring Break so they could get drunk or lose their virginity, Katie was excited because her family had planned a special secret roadtrip. She was careful to keep up with her family and talk to her parents and brother frequently, but Aaron had a hobby he wasn’t talking about that his parents found out and were thrilled about. Aaron had made another friend.

Rick and Katie did some research and the tourist attraction sounded right up their alley! In the middle of the woods, tons of weird stuff, and a fun roadtrip filled with diners and attractions. They decided to surprise Aaron, and they made up a lie that they would spend Spring Break in California with Katie so she could show her family around San Francisco, when in actuality they would be traveling up the state to the Redwood Highway and see the oddity place, and maybe even allow Aaron to meet his new pen-pal. Or, um, phone-pal.

So after bombarding Katie with hugs the Mitchells threw her luggage into the car and drove off. Aaron turned to Katie and excitingly asked, “So where are we going first? Can we go fix the Golden Gate bridge by painting it gold?”

Katie laughed and ruffled his hair. “Maybe later, right now I wanna show you guys this fun store right outside of town. Here, check out the videos I made for my classes!” And she pulled out some airpods and gave one to Aaron.

“Cool!”

Rick and Linda smirked at each other as they drove north. By the time they reached a little diner in Redding, CA, it was very clear to Aaron that they weren’t in San Francisco anymore. “Come on, just tell me where we’re going!” The boy begged as he fed Monchi a fry.

“The best kind of prizes are the surprises.” Linda quoted.

“Eric, Deborahbot5000, where are we going?”

“Sorry, Aaron, we cannot give that information.” Eric said, he and the other robot sitting politely in their seats, happy to be a part of the social interaction.

“Yes, Mother will bury us if we disobey.” Deborahbot said matter-of-factly.

“What?! No I won’t, sweeties.”

“Won’t you ground us?”

The family laughed and Aaron let the topic go; if he was honest, he loved a good surprise. The big family stopped in a motel just at the California-Oregon border, and the next morning after muffins and coffee and orange juice they were on the road again, passing dozens of trees that made Rick feel at home. Katie happily recorded the trip, trusted to be the documenter for another fun roadtrip, with hopefully not as much mortal peril.

Aaron watched as they left the highway for a simple road, and they passed a big sign. The boy gasped and caught what was happening. “No WAY! Really?!”

“You know, I hear this Mystery Shack even has a Sasquatch.” Rick commented while Linda pulled out a pamphlet from the glove box.

“It says here it’s full of odd things you’ll never see anywhere else, even a dinosaur footprint…”

“Wasn’t there a rumor of there being a Bottomless Pit?” Katie asked, pointing her camera at Aaron to get his reaction.

“Thank you thank you THANK YOU!!!” Aaron cheered, hugging his Dad’s neck and kissing his Mom’s cheek.

“Hey, no worries, buddy.” Rick eased, fixing his shewed glasses. “We wanted to see this place, too!”

“Why don’t we eat a quick lunch and then we’ll take the backroad for the attraction? There’s a coupon in here for a diner made from a giant log!”

And so after being served by a pretty blonde teenager at Greasy’s, they drove through town to get to the backroad. Signs made them confident that they were going the correct way, as well as Eric and Deborahbot5000’s GPS. Then as they turned a corner, a big triangle-shaped building came into view. Aaron grinned at the giant sign with a missing letter. People were already leaving, arms full of souvenirs and one or two already wearing their new hats or t-shirts. Once Rick parked in the Free Parking Lot, Aaron spilled out of the car and ran for the shack, but he stopped.

Katie caught up to him and patted his back. “You cool, man?”

Aaron shrugged, holding his hands in front of him and his shoulders up to hide his face a bit. “I-I dunno… What if… What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Hey, I get it.” Katie admitted. “When I first met my friends I was really nervous. I had talked to them online for weeks and I was worried it wasn’t gonna be what it was all cracked up to be, but it was. Your system worked! You found another dino-lover! You earned this moment. Just take in a deep breath and be yourself, cuz you’re a pretty cool dude.”

Aaron smiled up at his big sister. “Thanks.”

Trusting Eric and Deborahbot5000 to watch Monchi and make sure he used the bathroom, the Mitchells went inside the shack. On the porch there was an ice cooler, a sign reading schedule times for tours of the Oddity Museum, a Help Wanted sign, and two rocking chairs with a game of checkers between them.

Inside the store a few customers filled up the gift shop, alongside t-shirts, snowglobes, a vending machine, a door beside ti that read Employees Only, a bookshelf full of comic on one side and old newspapers claiming alien sightings on the other, a fish tank holding a monkey-mermaid, and barrels full of spaceship keychains and dino claws. A new section called Camping Stuff caught Rick’s eye, selling backpacks, lanterns, flashlights, batteries, canteens, and compasses. Katie opened a comic called Lil’Stanley and laughed at the swears, taking a pic and sending it to her friends’ group chat. Linda looked into the barrel full of patches and grinned at all the fun designs, while Aaron stared happily at the mer-monkey.

The Employees Only door opened and closed and Rick watched as a man in a suit, fez, and eyepatch walked up to the lady at the register and kissed her cheek. The woman smiled lovingly and left while the guy who resembled a gopher checked a customer out. Rick waited until the buyer left to approach the register, leaning an arm on the counter.

“Welcome to the Mystery Shack, dude!”

“Thanks! So, this is gonna sound weird, but my son Aaron talks to a guy here about dinosaurs…”

“No way!” The owner interrupted excitedly. “Good to see you, dudes! I’m Mr. Mystery! Wow, you guys came a long way, huh?”

“Nah, only from California. My daughter is attending art school there.”

While the men chit-chatted and Linda joined them, Katie noticed a guy walking up to Aaron and looking at the mer-monkey. She smiled and tried to read the comic without being too nosy, but she kept her senses on her brother.

“Hm, quite fascinating, isn’t it?” The man in the blue hoodie said. “But I think my favorite is the fossilized footprint. Could be Nanuqsaurus hoglundi.”

“The Polar Bear Lizard?” Aaron clarified, touching his chin as he looked at the dino-print, his back to the man he was talking to. “Maybe, but they’re from Alaska. It’s possible plate tectonics did cause some fossils to be relocated here, but it could also be a Nanotyrannosaurus lancensis footprint.”

“The Dwarf Tyrant? Could very well be. Would you like to talk about dinosaurs after your tour?”

Aaron’s eyes widened as the voice was finally familiar to him. He turned and looked up to find an old man smiling up at him. He had fluffy gray hair with a white stripe running around his scalp, wrinkles by his eyes due to smiling, a cleft chin, glasses, and wore a blue hoodie with a maroon sweater underneath. His hands were behind his back and he smiled down at Aaron warmly, while the boy was jittery and overly-excited. He took in a sharp breath and had to fight every muscle to keep from leaping through the screen door.

“H-H-Hi…” He peeped. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Y-Yeah, sure! I’d love to! I’m Aaron! Er, wait, you already knew that.” And he held out a hand to shake.

His phone-pal, Ford, chuckled and got on one knee to be eye-level. “Greeting, Aaron! It’s nice to formally meet you.”

Aaron shook his hand and noticed something. He had six fingers on his right hand. A quick glance told Aaron he also had six fingers on his left hand. Aaron grinned with sparkling eyes at his new friend, while the old sailor smiled warmly at the boy that reminds him of his niece and nephew when they were young.

#GF #mvsm #mitchells vs the machines #gravity falls #ford pines #soos ramirez #aaron mitchell #katie mitchell #rick mitchell #linda mitchell #eric and deborahbot5000

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sukifans · 4 years ago

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KEEP THE CHANGE // sokka

SUMMARY: this very attractive guy comes in every night during your graveyard shift at the 24-hour diner you work at, always doing something on his laptop. he might be selling organs on the black market, but he tips, like, really well.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of sex, guns/robbery, panic attacks, generally darker themes, all characters are 20+

WC: 5.5k

A/N: anotha one. 5.5k words accidentally. i plan on doing a part 2 and maybe more at some point, but for now i just had to get this idea out

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙��𝘐𝘚𝘛

Things I Know About Him:

1. He’s very attractive.

The bell above the door jingled and you looked up expecting to see an exhausted, slightly smelly middle-aged trucker like usual. When instead it was a cute guy around your age — tall, smooth tan skin, dark brown hair in a ponytail with shaved sides, wearing black joggers and a white t-shirt that showed tribal-style tattoos inked over the toned muscle of his arms — the smile you usually had to paint on for customers was genuine for once.

“Hey, how are ya?” you asked, standing from the table where you’d been rolling the cheap silverware in paper napkins.

“I’m fine, how are you?” he responded politely, shifting the weight of the backpack strap he had slung over one shoulder.

“Better now that there’s a new face in here. Just you tonight?”

“Seems that way.”

“Alright. Grab a seat wherever you’d like and I’ll bring you a menu.” You waved your hand out to gesture at all the open tables in the empty diner.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Just a coffee would be great, thanks,” he said as he made his way to a booth in the corner.

“You got it.” You moved behind the bar top to fill your pot with coffee and brought him over a chipped ceramic mug on a plate. You met his eyes when you set it down in front of him and you were almost struck frozen by how beautiful they were. They were the color of the sky on those perfect cloudless summer days when the sun seems to shine a little hotter; the color of the ocean in those tourist trap vacation agency promotional posters. You shook yourself to quickly recover, though given the opportunity you would’ve gladly stared into his eyes for the rest of your shift.

“Thanks,” he said, flashing you a small smile that revealed a peek of white teeth. The hell was a specimen like that doing in a place like this? He looked he belonged in one of those Calvin Klein ads.

“No problem. Let me know if you need something else.” You turned away when he nodded an acknowledgement as he pulled a laptop from his bag, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt.

2. He takes his coffee weird.

The first time you saw him make his coffee you were horrified. You watched from behind the counter, amused at first, as he poured white sugar from the dispenser into the drink for a nonstop ten seconds. Sure, some people had a strong sweet tooth; that wasn’t too bizarre. You had to cover your mouth to stifle your irrepressible groan of disgust when he started drinking without even stirring to dissolve the crystals.

After some time it stopped being so horrifying and just became funny. You always had to avert your gaze to choke down your laughter when you spotted him crunching down on the undissolved sugar. If he hadn’t been so attractive it would’ve been creepy, but when he did it, it was... almost endearing.

3. He has money.

Every morning as the sun started rise you would turn to look at his table only to find him gone, leaving only neatly stacked dishes and a twenty-dollar bill behind. Even if he only drank coffee (total: $2.43, with tax, free refills), he would leave the bill. The first couple times he came in and did this you scanned the parking lot to look for him but it seemed like he’d vanished into thin air. After a week, you confronted him.

“You know, the coffee is only like two bucks,” you commented as you refilled his mug.

“I know,” he said.

“You’ve left a twenty here every night.”

“I know.”

You furrowed your brow. “We can give change here, y’know.”

“Keep it.”

“That’s a lot. Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He obviously wasn’t a man of many words, so you dropped it. If he had money to burn and decided to burn it on you, you’d take it. “Starving artist” isn’t just a saying, after all, and this shift didn’t exactly rake in the tips.

4. He has something either illegal or important (or both!) on that laptop.

He always sat in the same spot: a booth all the way in the corner with his back facing the wall, computer sitting close to his chest. It looked very suspicious, for someone who was probably trying not to look suspicious. No matter how many times you tried to sneak a glance at the screen while you refilled his cup you couldn’t catch anything. You’d have to practically be on his lap to see something and, well, it wasn’t that kind of establishment and you weren’t that desperately curious.

At least you knew it (probably) wasn’t some sort of freakish porn — he never wore headphones and his hands were always above the table either typing, lifting his mug, or scribbling something in chicken scratch in a worn moleskin notebook. It wouldn’t’ve been the first time someone had tried to use the diner’s free wifi for something like that. You would’ve hated to have to ban him for life.

Things He Might Be Doing:

1. Selling organs on the black market

2. Making a new-age tech startup selling GPS microchips to helicopter parents

3. Running the r/TheRedPill forum

4. Investigating conspiracy theories

5. Starting new conspiracy theories to hide The Truth

6. Solving crimes/murders online à la Don’t Fuck With Cats

7. Anonymous

8. Undercover detective trying to crack the cold case of a family member’s/close friend’s/lover’s suspicious and untimely death that was ruled an accident

9. Government whistleblower putting together a groundbreaking report

10. Robot gaining sentience and plotting uprising

11. Clone seeking revenge on his creator

12. Robot clone gaining sentience AND seeking revenge now that he can Feel

13. Studying/writing/doing a project/anything else realistic and boring

With a sigh, you looked up from your scribble-filled notepad. There he was in all his glory: laptop out, half-drunk coffee to his right, notebook under his elbow to his left, a pen stuck behind each ear and one in his hand that he tapped thoughtfully against his chin. What he didn’t realize was that the cap of the pen was off, leaving dark marks on his skin. The sight made you shake your head with a small smile. You turned to fill your pot with “fresh” (quotes added out of legal obligation) coffee for the trucker that sat at the bar top with a patty melt.

“Ah, fuck,” you heard from the corner booth. When you glanced over you saw him wiping his tongue with a handful of paper napkins, black ink all down his chin and the front of his shirt. The pen must’ve exploded while he was biting on it (a habit of his, you’d noticed). Even the trucker guffawed when he saw the mess. You headed over to his booth after refilling the other man’s coffee.

“I’d offer the Tide pen I keep in my purse, but I don’t think it’d do much for you,” you commented as you replenished his coffee. He glanced up at you with a grimace.

“I appreciate the gesture,” he sighed, huffing when he realized the napkin dispenser was empty. You scooped up the pile of ink-saturated paper.

“I’ll get a few rags.” He nodded in thanks and closed both his laptop and notebook, shoving them out of the way on the seat next to him. You brought out a couple rags soaked in warm water and wiped up the mess on the table while he scrubbed his face. Even after his skin was rubbed raw, there was a tinge of black around his mouth.

“Thanks-” his eyes flicked to the plastic name tag you wore on your chest, “-(Y/N).” He knew your name from how often he’d come in but he wanted to be extra sure.

“Sure thing,” you said, waving your hand. “I see you in here a lot but I’ve never gotten your name.” When he only hummed in agreement and didn’t provide a name you pursed your lips. “So, what is it?”

“What’s what?”

“Your name,” you giggled a little.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s not that important.”

Okay, weird. Maybe he had an odd name and he was embarrassed. “If I guess it will you tell me?”

“Sure.” He visibly seemed to relax a little. So definitely an uncommon name that he didn’t expect you to guess, then.

“Can I at least know what it starts with?”

He hesitated. “An ‘S.’” You smiled.

“Righty-o, Steven. Can I get you anything else while I’m here?” You pulled out your small notepad from your apron pocket and held your pen at the ready.

“Ah, no. I’m alright, thanks.”

“Alright, Shawn. Let me know if you think of something.” The corners of his mouth quirked up into a grin at your little game as you pocketed your notepad and walked away, soiled rags in hand. When you came back out from disposing of the rags, the trucker was gone and it was just the two of you left in the diner. Soft music crackled from the old speakers hung from the ceiling and he was back to typing away. You felt a little panic in your chest — he’d been coming in every night for the past month and a half and that was the most conversation you’d ever had with him. You had your in and you couldn’t let it go to waste now.

He looked up from his screen, eyebrow quirked, when you slid into the seat across from him. “What’s up?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. Just talking to my best customer named... Sam?” He shook his head and you groaned.

“Best customer?”

“Of course. I think you singlehandedly paid my utilities this month, Simon.” You folded and unfolded a paper straw wrapper idly as you spoke.

“Ah, I see,” he nodded. “Is that all it takes to get in your good graces?”

“Pretty much.”

“Sounds like you need a sugar daddy.”

“Are you offering?” You gave him a teasing grin that made his cheeks color pink.

“I, uh-“ he stammered and you laughed.

“Seth, I’m kidding.” You rolled the straw wrapper up into a little ball and flicked it at him around the laptop screen. It bounced off his chest and he chuckled nervously.

“Right, of course.”

“So, what do you do all night on that computer, anyways?” Self-consciously, he lowered the screen and you rested your cheek on your palm, propping your elbow on the table.

“Just some work,” he answered evasively. Right, illegal or important or both — the age old question with this guy.

“At night?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Well, you work at night.”

“Because I have a day job, too. And I like nighttime.”

“Me too.”

“Which one?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

You sat back in your seat, a little embarrassed at getting carried away and prying. “Sorry, I’m just curious. I don’t have a lot of regulars on this shift and I just think you’re... interesting.”

“Interesting? How so?” He smirked in a teasing, knowing way that made your heart flutter and your face burn.

“A cute guy that comes in at the same time, every time, to do work in the middle of the night and always leaves a massive tip is pretty interesting, at least by my standards.”

He faltered. “You think I’m cute?”

“You’re alright for a nocturnal weirdo, Sebastian.” You winked and stood up, smoothing down your uniform. “I should probably get back to work. If Mack sees me sitting down with someone he’ll watch back the security footage and clock me out for however long I was here.” You jutted your thumb out behind you to indicate the cook and manager of the diner who you could both hear clanging around in the kitchen.

“Sounds like a hardass,” he said as he pulled his screen back open.

“Yeah, well...” You shrugged again. “It is what it is, y’know? Anyways, just shout if you need anything. It was nice talking to you, Shane.”

When he left at sunrise as usual, there was an extra five dollar bill on his table along with the usual twenty. You grinned when you picked it up and saw that on it he’d written down a phone number and simply signed it from “S.”

5. His name starts with S.

“What are you so happy about?” Zuko asked when he saw Sokka’s grin as he came through the door.

“What? Nothing,” he said, purposefully setting his mouth into a neutral mask. Zuko rolled his eyes and sipped his tea, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“What did you do, Sokka?”

“Nothing! What, a guy can’t just be in a good mood?”

“No,” he deadpanned. Sokka scoffed.

“Right, I forgot I was talking to the guy who hasn’t had a good mood in like ten years.”

“Thirteen, actually.” Sokka shot him a look but Zuko’s face was serious. “Just tell me what you did. You’re usually tired and grouchy when you get back in the mornings, not smiling to yourself.”

“Christ, fine,” he huffed, yanking open the fridge to get a water bottle. “I gave a girl my number. The one at the diner.”

Zuko set his tea down and crossed his arms over his chest. “You did what?”

“Look-“

“Are you fucking stupid? With what we do, you’re just out and about giving your number to random women?”

“I’m sorry, we? You just got here, Prince Pouty. I can do what I want.”

“You’re putting everyone at risk, and for what? To get your dick wet?”

“I gave her a burner number for an app on my phone and she doesn’t even know my name. No one’s at risk.”

“You’re being selfish. This is bigger than you.”

“I’m allowed to have a life outside of this bullshit, whether you like it or not.”

“If it’s such bullshit then why do you still do it? No one’s forcing you to stay up all night digging for information and hacking people.”

“I can’t exactly do anything else now, can I? What am I supposed to tell employers I’ve been doing for the last few years, sitting with my thumb up my ass?”

“That is basically what you do, isn’t it?”

Sokka slammed his hands down on the counter angrily. “You can go fuck yourself, Zuko. You have Mai-“

“Mai is for appearances only.”

“-and Aang and Katara are together, and ever since Suki...” Sokka trailed off and then shook his head. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just for your shitty attitude, I’m gonna take her out on a mind blowing date, and bring her back here, and fuck her on your stupid little trundle bed.” Zuko opened his mouth to respond but Sokka cut him off. “Don’t bother. I’m going home and going to bed. Tell Aang and Katara I stopped by,” he grumbled, slamming the door behind him as he left. He felt a little bad about probably waking up his sister and her boyfriend, but Zuko had been grating on his nerves since he got himself tangled up in their business and his misplaced self-righteousness about a little flirting was the last straw. The prick didn’t need to overcompensate for being Ozai’s son by meddling in his love life. He could do without that, thanks.

Sokka was still grumbling to himself as he jiggled the key in the door to his small and slightly dingy studio apartment a few blocks down from Aang and Katara’s. Once he was in, he kicked off his shoes and bag by the door, stripped down to his briefs, and flopped into bed to immediately pass out despite the slats of sunlight filtering in through his ratty blinds. As he fell asleep he couldn’t help but think of you; you and your playful banter and your pretty smile (the real one that made your eyes crinkle, not the fake one you gave to creepy travelers passing through) and your many questions that he had to carefully evade. One day maybe he’d be able to explain himself, even if it would take a while to get to that point. That is, if you gave him a chance in the first place. He couldn’t exactly blame you for turning down someone whose name you didn’t even know.

He just really hoped you wouldn’t.

The next night at the diner was as achingly slow as any other Tuesday. So far only “S” had come in and still he just sat in the corner, drinking his coffee and doing whatever he does. You had texted with him briefly once your shift ended in the morning, but you had to sleep and then get to your other job before your shift at the diner so there wasn’t much time for flirty messages. Instead, you sat at a table nearby to roll silverware, offering small smiles whenever he glanced up and met your eyes. The warmth in your cheeks whenever he smiled back was becoming achingly familiar. You vaguely wondered if your face might as well just get stuck like that.

Finally, someone new came in a few hours after midnight. He wore a ball cap and a large black jacket, hands stuffed in the pockets. You gave your usual spiel in your syrupy-sweet customer voice as you rose from the table to slide behind the counter and prep a cup of coffee for him. As you talked, you noticed he kept glancing around shiftily and had yet to remove his right hand from his jacket. There was something about him that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Sokka had been half-listening to the one-sided exchange when a sharp intake of breath and the sound of shattering glass made his eyes snap to you. You stood frozen behind the counter, hands raised to your shoulders, staring at the men who held a handgun level with your chest. His stomach dropped as he took in the scene, blood running cold when your terrified gaze drifted to him and then shot back to the gun trained on you.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to empty the cash drawer for me, if you don’t mind,” he said in an eerily cool, level voice that made your skin crawl. “Don’t try anything, I just want to get the money and get out. I‘d hate to have to hurt you.” You nodded, trying not to let your hands shake, as you shifted over to the register. Out of the corner of your eye you could see “S” subtly reaching for his phone, hopefully to call the police. This also caught the man’s attention and he trained the gun on him now. “Don’t think I don’t see you, pretty boy. Give me your phone.”

“Alright, man. Take it easy,” “S” said as he stood slowly with his hands up, holding his phone in one. He carefully made his way over.

“Here,” you said to distract the man. He looked over at the paper bag you held that looked like it only had a couple hundred dollars in it at most.

“That’s it?” the man barked. “I know you have a safe somewhere, you bitch. Open it and give me the fucking money.”

You stared, wide-eyed, and willed the tears welling up in your eyes to go away. “I- I don’t have a key-“

“Fucking figure it out!” he shouted, making you jump. Sokka felt white-hot anger bubbling in his chest when he saw a tear slide down your cheek as the man unlocked the safety on the gun. Without pausing to think, he leapt the last few feet between himself and the guy to knock the gun away. You screamed and ducked down when a shot fired off, but the man missed widely when his arm was hit and instead blew out one of the panes of glass at the front of the diner. Sokka kicked the gun across the floor and grabbed the man by the collar of his jacket before slamming him against the bar top. While he was winded he yanked his hands behind his back and shoved him to the floor on his stomach, shoving a knee into his kidneys.

“(Y/N), call the police,” Sokka said, trying to keep his voice calm. You peeked over the edge of the counter and then jumped up when you saw the state of the two men.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll, um- I’ll do that.” You fumbled with your phone, struggling thanks to how badly your hands shook. You screamed again when Mack burst out from the kitchen wielding a sawed-off shotgun. “Jesus fucking Christ, Mack! Took you fucking long enough to get out here, didn’t it? Poor Stanley had to take care of it!” You gestured angrily to the situation in front of you and Mack rolled his eyes with a huff.

“I was calling the cops, kid. Relax, you’re fine,” he said and you balled your hands up into fists.

“Relax?! I swear to God-“

“(Y/N),” “S” interrupted gently and you whirled around to face him. “It’s under control now. You’re okay.”

“You could’ve gotten hurt or worse and I-“

“But I didn’t. See?” He gestured to himself as Mack secured the man’s hands together with some zip ties from the back office and then to one of the barstools that was bolted to the floor. You didn’t respond to that and instead furiously wiped away the few tears that had tracked down your face.

“After you give the cops your statement, go home for a few days,” Mack said, sitting heavily in a chair that faced the man and holding the shotgun in his lap. You opened your mouth to protest but he silenced you with a hard look. “You’re shaken up, kid; can’t have you working like this. Besides, it’ll take a couple days to get insurance to replace that glass.”

You relented with a sigh and dropped yourself into a booth seat, folding your legs against your torso and resting your forehead on your knees to hide your face. You squeezed your eyes shut and sucked in a few deep, steadying breaths to hopefully push out the panic that still pierced your chest. You tilted your head up when you heard someone sit down across the table from you to see “S” giving you a concerned look. Self-consciously you wrapped your arms around your shins and pulled yourself into a tighter ball.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I know you’re okay, but are you, like... okay?”

You put your head down again and shrugged. “I guess.” You knew it was obvious to him that you weren’t, but you were thankful he didn’t push. Both of you were quiet for a few minutes and you could faintly hear sirens in the distance. All you wanted was to give your statement and go home.

“My name’s Sokka,” he said, finally breaking the silence. He drummed his fingers against the table nervously. You looked up at him again and gave him a small, watery smile.

“That’s a nice name,” you whispered with a sniffle.

Once you gave your statement and the police had taken the guy away in cuffs, you left the diner and were surprised to see Sokka sitting on the curb in front of the doors. He looked around at you when the door opened and he stood.

“You didn’t have to wait,” you said as he dusted off his pants.

“I know. I wanted to,” he said and looked you up and down. “You sure you’re alright? I can sit with you for a bit.”

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. Thanks, though.” You both looked up at the sky in silence. The horizon was starting to fade from the inky black into a rich purple, stars still glinting above your heads. Dawn would be coming soon. Without a word, you walked side-by-side to your cars that were parked next to each other. When you popped your door open he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just gave you a closed-mouth smile and a small wave. You gave him an affirming head nod and slid into the driver’s seat. He waited until you drove away, car disappearing around a corner, before getting into his own.

As you walked up the stairs to your apartment, keys clutched in your hand, your heart was pounding again. Your eyes started to sting and you quickened your pace until you were practically sprinting to your door. After fumbling with the lock for a second you threw yourself inside and slammed the door shut, breath now coming in hard gasps. You slid your back down until you collapsed onto the ground. You curled yourself into a ball again, pressing the heels of your palms harshly against your closed eyes and feeling the tears spilling from them. You were not okay, you were not alright, you were not fine. Not at all.

You could barely see your screen through your tears, but you made the call anyways. It made you feel silly and weak but, God, you were so fucking scared. You just needed someone’s voice to ground you back in reality and he was the first person you thought of.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sokka.” You winced at the way your voice cracked; how it wavered.

Obviously, he noticed. “What’s wrong? Did you make it home okay?” Guilt and regret panged in your chest when you heard how worried he was. You shouldn’t’ve called, you were being stupid.

“Yeah. I-I don’t know why I’m s-so upset but I’m really f-freaked out. It’s st-stupid, I’m sorry for b-bothering you,” you whimpered to the relative stranger on the other end of the line. You screwed your eyes shut and pressed a hand to your chest; you felt like you had been sprinting and you couldn’t catch your breath.

“You’re not bothering me, (Y/N), and it’s not stupid. What happened tonight was fucked up and you’re having a perfectly normal reaction. Just take some deep breaths, okay? You sound like you’re having a panic attack.”

Doing as he said, you tried to even out your breathing to bring your heart rate out of the stratosphere. “Okay, okay. I, um- Sokka?”

“Yeah?”

“Um, this might s-sound weird, but... do you think you could, um, come over? I‘ll make you breakfast.”

“Oh, uh-“ he hesitated and despite yourself you started to panic again.

“You d-don’t have to. I-I know you’re probably t-tired. I shouldn’t’ve asked, I just don’t want to b-be alone right now.”

“Hey, hey, stop that. It’s okay, (Y/N). I just don’t want to make you, like, uncomfortable or anything. Strange guy in your apartment, and all,” he chuckled nervously. “Not that I’m... strange, or anything.”

You giggled through your tears. “Oh, you’re strange, alright; but I like that about you. Besides, I know your first name now. We’re practically best friends.”

“You know what? You’re absolutely right.” He laughed a little and the sound made you feel a bit better. “Just text me your address and I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?” The tenderness in his voice made your damp cheeks warm.

“Okay,” you sniffled. “Sokka?”

“Mhm?” You could hear him rustling around at the other end of the line along with the faint jingling of keys.

“Can you stay on the phone with me?” you asked sheepishly.

“Whatever you need, princess.” The pet name slipped so easily from his lips that he didn’t even notice. You, however, felt your face burn hotter and a twist in your belly. From anyone else’s mouth you would’ve thought you were being made fun of, but he said it so earnestly that you just felt warm and tingly, like you were talking with a grade school crush.

“What?”

“Hm?” he hummed distractedly and you cleared your throat.

“You called me princess.”

“Oh, sorry.” You hoped he was blushing as badly as you were. It sounded like he was, if one can sound like they’re blushing. “It’s just... something I call people sometimes. Habit.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s nice. I like it.”

“Interesting,” he responded. You could hear the suggestive lilt to his voice and it made the corner of your mouth turn up a bit.

You used to think that Sokka was a quiet man. Now, you knew you were wrong and he had always been too heavily focused on his work those many nights at the diner to properly flaunt what a motor mouth he was. He had no trouble sitting on the phone with you while he made his way over to your building, chatting away about... something — many somethings, for that matter. The details weren’t important; all either of you cared about was his almost prodigious ability to keep your mind distracted with idle talk. Despite your state he even made you laugh a few times. You were feeling better by the time he softly knocked on your door, although your legs still felt wobbly and weak when you stood to let him in.

When he saw your puffy, bloodshot eyes and the tear tracks that shone on your cheeks he felt an odd squeezing in his chest that left him a little winded. You had changed into a large faded t-shirt and leggings, your hair loose and falling delicately around your tired face, which had been scrubbed clean of makeup. He realized this was the first time he had ever seen you outside of the context of your work. Even though you surely felt like shit, in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but think you still looked adorable. He felt a strong urge to wrap you up in a tight hug, but held off. This was still new territory for you both and he had no idea how you would react to physical affection from someone so new in your life.

You greeted him with a tiny smile and closed the door behind him. He suddenly became acutely aware of how sweaty his palms were now that he was alone with you in your apartment.

“Do you want any coffee or tea or something? Water?” you asked. “I- I started making waffles, if you want one. Or do you want something else to eat? I have-“

“(Y/N), please,” he chuckled. “You clocked out. You don’t have to serve me.”

“I know,” you sighed, twisting a strand of hair around your fingertips. “You came all the way over here, though.”

“It was less than a ten minute drive.”

“Still.” You stared at him expectantly and he rolled his eyes as he sat on your couch.

“Just make me one of whatever you’re drinking. I’m not picky.” You nodded and turned into the kitchen to prepare a second cup of lavender chamomile tea with honey. He accepted it graciously when you handed him the mug with some tourist location stamped on it. He took a sip and was surprised when he actually liked it – he had never much been one for tea. You sat down in the armchair adjacent to the couch and set your mug on the coffee table.

“Thanks, Sokka,” you murmured. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Seriously, (Y/N), it wasn’t any trouble. I’d rather be here and know that you’re okay than sit in bed and worry.”

“Not that. Well, yes; thank you for coming over, but... I was talking about at the diner.”

“What about it?”

You could feel tears pricking at your eyes again and you swallowed thickly. “You saved me. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there.”

“I’m sure you would’ve handled it.” His eyebrows shot up when you shook your head aggressively.

“He might’ve shot me before Mack came out if you hadn’t knocked his gun away. And you didn’t even have anything to defend yourself with!”

“I was okay, princess; I’ve trained in fighting in stuff. I had to do something. I couldn’t live with myself if he’d hurt you and I hadn’t at least tried to help.” At this admission, your tears fell freely again and you choked out a sob. Sokka looked panicked and he leaned forwards, fluttering his hands uselessly. “Oh, fuck. Are you okay? Did I say something?”

You shook your head. “No, no. You’re just really sweet and I’m really emotional. And tired.”

“Do you want a hug?” he offered hesitantly. You looked over at him and saw his cheeks had gone pink. With a nod, you stood from your chair and curled up with him on the couch, letting his strong arms wrap around you while you cried into his shoulder. He squeezed you tightly against his chest and said nothing. He just closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head, trying to ignore his own tears that threatened to spill when he felt the way your whole body shook like a leaf.

Even once your sobs subsided to sniffles you made no move to get up. Your very bones felt heavy with exhaustion and the way Sokka held you was warm and comforting. You both eventually fell asleep like that, embracing on your couch, your mugs of tea and the bowl of half-prepared waffle batter on the kitchen counter forgotten for now.

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ofstarsandfireflies · 4 years ago

Text

This is what Finding Dory should have been.

Their marriage might have fallen through, but even though there were regrets whidh they hadn’t worked out, Stephen still wanted to be a part of Tony’s and Peter’s life, he still believed he and Tony could get back together, despite his ex getting back into dating other men.

Especially since Peter had been abducted little under a month ago by fish bowl head.

He wasn’t about to let either of them out of his sight.

Now Peter was trying to live a normal life like all teenagers, getting a girlfriend by the name of MJ and trying for his driving lisence, and even though Tony had offered, Stephen was adamant that he would be the one to take Peter for his driving lessons.

Of course, he wasn’t the calmest as he probably once would have been in a car, and he just manages to agitate Peter about driving, but they make it back to Tony’s house in one piece.

But while Tony is trying to date again and Peter is trying to act as normal as he can despite what happened to him and Stephen tries to be there for them as often as he can and getting shit about it from Mordo and Wong, Adrian Toomes is creating a suit to avenge his son.

He’s not after Tony, like he had initially been, no, no, Tony didn’t kill his son.

Stephen Strange did.

But he’ll kill the both of them and Peter too.

A son for a son.

Stephen has the day free from his Sorcerer duties so he tries to spend time with Peter and Tony, Peter being a little too crafty for his own good and allowing the two adults to enjoy some time alone together.

Tony sees right through this, but he won’t complain, he’s missed Stephen.

But when they’re heading out to lunch, both of them see people watching them, following them, and they know not only are they in danger, but Peter could be as well.

And both are ill equipped to deal with them because Stephen never brought his sling ring and Tony had left his housing unit back at the lab.

Sure, Stephen still had his magic, but that doesn’t mean he wants to draw attention to them and make it easier to find them.

So, they split up, Tony heading back to Peter and Stephen heading for the Sanctum where he can get what he needs to teach these guys to stop messing with his family.

And he makes it, but so does Adrian with Tony, holding a gun to his head.

And while Stephen raises his hands, and stalls for time, Tony manages to send a distress call to Peter, who immediately heads to the lab.

With a nod from Tony telling him Peter’s safe, Stephen lowers and unclenches his fists, the last thing he sees before he’s knocked out is Tony having a bag thrown over his head.

And all Stephen can think about is Tony’s state of mind from being kidnapped again, and hoping that Peter is safe.

Peter is safe.

He’s in the lab tracking Tony through the distress signal and waiting for it to stop so he can get there and help his parents out while he searches for what he needs, keeping an eye on whoever took them’s idiots running around in a frenzy searching for him on the monitors, kicking in locked doors to empty rooms.

He knows he’ll be found eventually, but he’s already made up his mind to help by the time he gets a call from Tony, who wanted to make sure he was safe and wasn’t planning on finding them because they’re from the same group who took him just a few months ago.

But Tony’s worried voice sounds proud when Peter’s resolve won’t be swayed, but doesn’t get a chance to tell him what to do before the door of their cell is opening and he has to cut the call short.

With their location set into Karen’s GPS, Peter gets out of the lab just as the ones who had come to grab him find it empty.

He’s got everything that Tony told him to grab if this ever happened, and he’s got their location.

But getting there will take time, time which Tony doesn’t have.

When the door had opened and Adrian Toomes walked in, his mechanic wings folding back into the device on his back, he ignores Tony for Stephen.

He wants to know where Peter is.

And Stephen doesnt tell him, Tony has a knife at his throat.

But Stephen still won’t tell, and winces when the knife slices into him deep, blood continuously oozing into Tony’s clothes amd dripping onto the floor beneath him.

Stephen knows how long Tony has if it’s not stitched, and he knows they have nothing to stitch him up with.

Once Adrian leaves again, promising to return in the thirty minutes Tony has left with Peter, Stephen is trying to cut through his bonds to get to Tony to help him, counting down the seconds in his mind and becoming more angry and frustrated the longer it takes to free himself, calling to an unresponsive Tony, who has fallen limp in his restraints.

Finally, finally Stephen is free, ripping off his shirt to apply pressure to the wound as Tony manages to tell him to take his watch and call Peter.

He does so, Peter answering straight away and telling him he’s at their location.

Stephen wastes no time in blasting a hole above them, Peter just managing to drop what he’d brought with him before a pair of mechanical claws grab him by the arms and lift him up into the air.

Stephen is up after him, promising Tony he’ll be back.

Tony grabs the sealing agent first and patches himself up, shakily pressing his housing unit to his chest when he hears the commotion of armed men running to their cell, alerted by Stephen’s destructive renovating.

Clearing his head, he stands up, swaying a little under the weight of his sleek armour, and kills anyone who has the misfortune of walking through that door.

Stephen chases after Peter, summoning the mirror dimension and locking the three of them within it, using the turning and separating buildings to catch up to Peter and grab hold of him, freeing him from the villain when a car comes out of nowhere and runs straight into him.

But Toomes isn’t going down that easily, and Stephen keeps getting interrupted by attacks.

Seeing no other alternative, Peter apologetically hijacks a car and they speed away, Stephen trying not to have a panic attack with how fast Peter is driving and how he’s swerving in and out of traffic coming and going in every direction, almost rolling the car more than once when he feels it balancing on two wheels.

Toomes is right behind them, not giving up as Peter tries to keep them alive long enough for Stephen to get them out of here.

But without a sling ring, they can’t exit how they normally would.

He needs to get to the Sanctum and get one, or at least keep Toomes occupied so Wong or Mordo can get them out of here.

Peter likes the second option, stressing Stephen out even more now he’s driving with one hand and calling Wong’s phone with the other, Stephen grabbing the phone from him before he gets them both killed.

Almost as soon as Stephen tells Wong what’s happening, a portal opens right in front of them, Peter, Stephen, and the car they’re in sailing over Wong’s head and crashing straight into the staircase.

Wong closes the portal just as Toomes reaches it, one of Vulture’s wings snapping off as he just makes it through, heading back to Tony.

Leaving Peter in Wong’s care, Stephen takes the sling ring and walks into the room where he’d left Tony, finding it abandoned.

He makes his way past all the bodies, hoping to find Tony somewhere close by.

And he does.

Tony’s suit is torn to shreds, all the power he’d had charged in it now all used up.

But he’s alive.

He’s shaking but alive and when he sees Stephen, the first words out of his mouth are concerning Peter.

But Stephen reassures him that Peter is safe at the Sanctum with Wong, and the wave of relief over the man he still loves almost brings him to tears.

It would be touching and damn near romantic if Toomes wasn’t there watching them, the last one alive out of the group of men he’d had with him.

Both Stephen and Tony hold up their hands, Tony’s more on instinct even without any more power left.

Looking over at Toomes, Stephen offers him a way out of this.

A way to live.

But Toomes doesn’t take it.

So focused on revenge, he aims for Tony, knowing it won’t be satiated if he’d aimed for Stephen, but his hand suddenly jerks behind his back, dropping his gun as a thick web ties him up, and Peter drops down with a proud look on his face.

The three are safe, and together again.

Not long after things settle down, life begins to move on.

Peter passes his driving lesson, which Stephen had no doubt in his mind he wouldn’t succeed at.

Stephen and Tony are trying their relationship again.

And Peter is giving this thing with MJ a real chance, asking her on a double date with his parents.

Yeah.

Maybe things will finally go back to normal now.

Quotes -

“The man who took our loved ones from us. The man who has brought us such pain and sorrow. We will find him. We will bring him here. We will not rest until his blood flows into this very ground. We will have our revenge.”

Adrian Toomes addressing his men

“Oh! I didn’t know you guys were still so cozy that she shares her marriage issues with you.”

“Wait a minute, I know you guys were close, obviously, but are you close again? Close like...”

“I’ll lay money she’s still got something for him.”

“Don’t go there, friend.”

“Maybe he still has something for her!”

“Can we talk about basketball? For God’s sake, come on!”

Wong and Mordo teasing Stephen about Tony

“So, this Jaime...is it...serious?”

That was a really smooth transition. I don’t know, it’s only been a few months.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I guess I’m not sure yet.”

“Have you ever been in love before?”

“Not the way that mom talks about it.”

“How does she describe it?”

“She said that when you guys met...that it was super special.”

“Super special? She said that?”

“I think the exact word she used was...‘ magical.”

“Magical, huh?”

Stephen and Peter bonding.

“I have nothing against you. You didn’t kill my son. But your husband did. Now, he betrayed you by choosing to save your daughter instead of you. He left you here like a dog.”

“At least my daughter is still alive.”

Tony being the snarky bastard we all love

Anything part 2

There’s a new enemy with his sights set on not just Peter, but his parents too.

January, February

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5

Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

Day 11 Day 12 Day 13 Day 14 Day 15

Day 16 Day 17 Day 18 Day 19 Day 20

Day 21 Day 22 Day 23 Day 24

#ironstrange #strangeiron #osaf’s movie night

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hockeylvr59 · 5 years ago

Text

Lost and Found || William Nylander

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Authors Note: Request was for #4 of the soulmate prompts. I loved the suggestions so much. I know it took me forever but hopefully, you see it and enjoy it.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,413

______________

“You have to get lost before you can be found.”

Growing up you were in awe of the quote your parents had painted on your bedroom wall. When you were really little they told you that the quote applied to knowledge, to personal growth. It wasn’t until you were a teenager that you learned that it actually applied to finding your soulmate. You see, though no one knew how it worked, when someone lost something it was magically found by their soulmate. It only worked, however, when something was truly lost, you’d know because you’d tried to circumvent the system a time or two “losing” things like a piece of paper with your phone number on it or pictures of yourself. No...destiny seemed to know when you were trying to cheat the system and she wasn’t a fan.

By your early twenties, you’d given up trying to rig the system and settled with waiting to meet your soulmate...hoping that it wouldn’t take too long. You’d known from the time you became a teenager that he existed, there was no question about it. You knew it because you were constantly finding random things. Ticket stubs, men’s socks, even once a jockstrap. The more things you found, the more you questioned just how scatterbrained your soulmate could be. Lately though, your finds have been less gross and more….green. It seemed like once a week that you were finding money lying on the ground, tucked between the couch cushions, in a jacket pocket. And while for the most part, they were small bills, you’d found hundreds more than once.

The first time you’d found money you questioned what you should do with it. And for a while, you tucked it all in an envelope in your nightstand. But then the money kept coming and well it certainly seemed like your soulmate was well enough off and he was your soulmate so you found yourself spending some of it here and there grateful for the little boons in your life.

Now it wasn’t like you hadn’t lost things yourself before. You’d lost money a few times yourself, earrings would fall out on occasion, and you were certain that your soulmate had a collection of ponytails and bobby pins a mountain high by now. But you’d never really lost anything important.

So when you stepped outside of Scotiabank arena and reached into your pocket for your phone to find it missing, you panicked. Losing your phone was everyone’s worst nightmare and while you were someone comforted by the fact that your soulmate would likely find it rather than some stranger a part of you reminded yourself that your soulmate technically was a stranger. Thankfully you’d driven yourself to the game so you had both keys and a car because you couldn’t imagine being stranded in Toronto without a phone to order an Uber. Still, by the time you made it home you were in tears about the fact that you’d lost something so important. You didn’t fully understand the blessing it would turn out to be.

~~~

Basking in the feeling of a hard-fought win and a goal, Will smiled his way through media before returning to his locker to change. Pulling his pants up over his hips he reached down to grab the fabric of his dress shirt and instead his fingers made contact with something hard. Looking down, he spotted a phone tucked into his pile of clothing….a phone that definitely hadn’t been there earlier. The first thing that came to mind was whether this was part of some prank by his teammates. But the phone case was a glittery leafs logo and when he picked it up and pressed the lock button a photo of a group of girls including the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen appeared.

His heart stopped for a moment before it began racing, his brain finally establishing that this was something his soulmate had lost. For years he’d wondered what she was like and now he somehow knew that he was looking at her. As the sounds of his teammates filled his ears, Will quickly pocketed the phone, throwing the rest of his clothes on before heading out to his car. It was only once inside that he pulled the phone from his pocket, his finger hovering over the home button.

To his surprise, the phone unlocked.

Though he didn’t want to invade her privacy, William reasoned that he could only get the phone back to her if he did a little snooping. Deciding that opening her messages might give him a lead of who could get him in contact with her, he pressed the icon and the last active conversation opened. Inside was a string of sent pictures….pictures of him.

Following the pictures was a received text: Fuck you’re so goddamn lucky. Damn chemistry for keeping me from being there right beside you.

I know right? He looks so cute tonight. I might need you to revive me later when I recap the game for you.

She had been there. She had watched him score, had taken pictures of him and he didn’t even know she was there. She was attracted to him and didn’t even know that he was her soulmate. It was almost cruel and unusual punishment when he had been waiting to find her for so long. Staring at the phone for a moment longer he ran his fingers through his hair before composing a message.

Hey so uh...I’m your friend’s soulmate and she lost her phone at the Leafs game tonight and uh...I’d like to get it back to her.

The moment the message sent Will started overthinking it. Of course, this was her soulmate, who else would have found her lost phone? And did he sound too creepy? Would her friend think he was crazy and refuse to help him?

She’s been freaking out! Where did you find it?

William really didn’t know how to answer that without admitting who he was so he decided to stay vague.

Was between two articles of clothing when I went to change.

That was totally both true and vague not saying where he was when he found it.

So uh...she said to give you her address if you don’t mind dropping the phone off tonight? She’s kind of going crazy without it.

Yeah, no problem.

He would drive to Buffalo if it meant meeting her. The address came through quickly and after plugging it into his navigation, he pulled out of the parking garage. Driving through downtown, his palms began to sweat and by the time he stopped in front of the building his GPS directed him to, he honestly felt like he was going to pass out.

With her phone gripped tightly in his hand, he stepped into the building and rode the elevator up to the proper floor. His body ran solely on autopilot until he was standing in front of her door, his fist raised to knock.

Three short raps against the wood were going to change his life forever. William’s heart was in his throat as he waited for the door in front of him to open but once it did, he felt a wave of peace crash over him.

“My phone. Thank god.” She proclaimed. Suddenly his eyes met hers and a breathy ‘no way’ fell from her lips.

“I think this is yours.” He mumbled, offering the phone out to her.

“You….you’re….” Suddenly feeling shy, Will nodded, his left hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Taking the phone, Will watched as she slipped it into the pocket of the sweats she was wearing. Then suddenly she was stretching onto her toes and her arms wrapped around his neck, drawing him down into a soft kiss. She tasted like heaven and Will dropped his arms to drape gently around her waist. Standing in her doorway they kissed until they both needed to breathe and when she pulled away the smile on her face was the best thing he’d ever seen.

“Suddenly that crush makes a whole lot more sense.” She whispered, a sparkle in her eyes. A booming laugh filled Will’s chest making her smile even brighter if that was possible. Stepping back, she reached out a hand silently inviting him inside and Will eagerly accepted, ready to spend the rest of forever losing himself in her.

#william nylander #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #tleafs #031

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thepancakedetective · 4 years ago

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Pinning Hell

Synopsis: Akira Kurusu has been pinning hard for his hot rival/friend Goro Akechi. He doesn't know how to deal with his feelings. And his friends are sick of hearing about it. So Futaba devises a devious plan involving blackmail. Rated M for Spicy.

Akira had no idea how he ended up in front of Goro’s apartment. Okay. He was blackmailed. Threatened over text by his mischievous ginger-haired friend. For a socially anxious shut-in, she was surprisingly vocal over text exchanges.

Oracle (5:22 pm) I hate to break this to you Akira.

Oracle (5:22 pm) But if you don’t get your ass straight out of Le Blanc this instant, I am going to leak your browsing history to Goro. This includes the following:

Oracle (5:23 pm) “how to confess your feelings to your hot friend and not be rejected”, “how to know if your friend is gay”, “is quoting Hegel gay?”, “hot kinky gay bdsm” and so on.

Oracle (5:23 pm) If you would like this to NOT happen head to this location and fucking confess your feelings pronto. Or ELSE!!! ((╬◣﹏◢))

Akira knew this was coming. Over the last few weeks Akira had barely seen Goro. Due to their conflicting schedules and Goro’s predisposition to overworking himself, Akira was currently suffering from Goro withdrawal. Goro plagued his every thought during work, school, and hangouts with his friends. And said friends were sick of his pinning. Now he was paying the price.

Akira’s hand hovered over the apartment door, torn between knocking or death because hey, he would rather be shot in the head than have his browsing history exposed to the one person he had been crushing on forever. The door handle turned before he had the chance to decide. A thoroughly surprised and alarmed Goro blinks back at him mouth agape. His work clothes peak out over a haphazardly worn hoodie.

Goro: W-what are you doing here?

Akira thinks to himself, okay be cool.

Akira: I was just taking a walk.

Goro squints suspiciously at Akira.

Goro: A walk that ended up right in front of my apartment door. A location, which mind you, I did not share with you prior.

Akira curses at himself. Now he looks like some crazy fangirl.

Akira: I have a good explanation for that.

Goro crosses his arms and pins Akira with a raised eyebrow.

Goro: Do come in.

Akira: W-what? Weren’t you just about to leave?

Goro sighs and opens his apartment door wider.

Goro: My business can wait. It looks like you have a more pressing matter to divulge.

Akira involuntary swallows hard. Was it too late to back out? As if sensing Akira’s hesitation, Goro pulls Akira inside and closes the door behind them. Akira glances back at Goro. Did he deadbolt the door?

Goro: Let’s take a seat.

Goro leads them to his living room couch. His apartment is well furnished just as Akira had suspected. What he did not expect was the ridiculous amount of Phoenix Ranger Featherman merch lining his bookshelf with figurines. They looked like they cost a fortune. Goro followed Akira’s line of sight. He coughs with a light blush.

Goro: A gift from fans. So Akira, to whom do I owe the pleasure for being graced by your unsolicited presence?

Akira’s mouth suddenly feels dry and he blurts out

Akira: Blackmail.

Goro studies him thoughtfully before giving Akira one of his signature Detective Prince smiles which nearly sends Akira into cardiac arrhythmia.

Goro: Oh? Well I do specialize in crime. How may I assist?

Marry me. Slay me. Step on me. Akira curses internally. Focus mind. Focus. Damn his lips look so soft and his lashes are so long. His traitorous mind was making speech a very difficult task. Goro smirks before ironing it out into a slight frown.

Goro: Your silence leads me to think that this blackmail is far more serious than I had first suspected. Perhaps we should notify the police.

Akira nearly jumps out of his seat in protest.

Akira: No, no. It’s really not THAT serious.

Akira tries to shrug nonchalantly, but instead looks like he’s doing a bad impression of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Goro taps his chin, seemingly intrigued by Akira’s skittishness. Goro leans forward and the gap between two closes significantly. He looks up at Akira with a half-lidded expression. It was getting very hard for Akira to think.

Goro: Then, do tell what it is on your mind.

Akira’s lips waver only half a second before responding.

Akira: You.

And he dives in to press his lips against the brunet’s. Goro’s breath hitches and his eyes widen, but there is no protest. No. Instead, he closes his eyes and kisses back hungrily. His fingers lace through Akira’s unruly raven hair and pull him closer to deepen the kiss. It was Akira’s turn to be surprised as he found Goro’s tongue pressed against his lips. Akira accepts the invite with an involuntary groan. This seems to rouse something in Goro who pushes Akira down and pins him against the coach. Goro’s eyes are glazed and heavy with deep wanting. Akira knew exactly where this would lead and just that thought sent shivers down his spine in anticipation. But, this was progressing way to fast. And Akira had to get a handle on the situation.

Akira: W-wait.

Goro pants, his breathing uneven.

Goro: D-did I do something wrong?

Akira shakes his head.

Akira: No, no! You did nothing wrong. I just need to figure something out.

Goro gazes down at him with mild confusion. Perspiration lightly lining the top of his brows.

Goro: What is it?

Akira bites his bottom lip.

Akira: Do you like me?

Goro rolls his eyes.

Goro: Do you think I’d be tongue deep in you if that weren’t the case?

Akira: W-well you never know!

Goro scoffs.

Goro: Any other questions to interrupt our make out session?

Akira: How are you so good at kissing? Did you have prior experience?

To this Goro’s blush deepens.

Goro: No…I didn’t. This was my first time. I’ve just been reading up on it.

Akira laughs as he imagines Goro pouring over literature and scouring the internet for techniques and tips for kissing. There must have also been videos.

Goro: S-stop laughing!

Akira: Sorry that was too good to resist. But yeah, for your first time that was amazing.

Goro smiles satisfyingly.

Goro: Does that mean we can continue where we left off?

Akira: One more question.

Goro sighs in exasperation, but there is no malice. He gives Akira a look to elaborate.

Akira: Are we dating now?

Goro kisses the corner of Akira’s lips.

Goro: Only if you want to.

Akira: Hell yeah I want to.

Goro: So there are no more objections.

Goro snakes a few more kisses down Akira’s jawline towards his neck. His hands travel underneath Akira’s shirt tracing his well-defined torso. Akira is on cloud nine. And to think he was suffering for all these weeks and all it took was blackmail to get together with his crush. As Goro places a wet kiss over his clavicular prominence, Akira gets a thought.

Akira: Wait.

Goro groans against Akira’s shoulder.

Goro: I’m starting to think you get a rise in continually denying me of your body.

Akira: Why were you in such a rush to leave your apartment? I’ve never seen you wear that hoodie before.

Goro chuckles.

Goro: You wouldn’t believe it.

Akira: Try me.

Goro: I was blackmailed.

And it all suddenly clicks in place for Akira.

Akira: Oracle.

Goro: Oracle.

Akira: Browsing history?

Goro: Yup.

Akira: Wow. I don’t suppose yours included “hot kinky gay bdsm.”

Goro just stared wordlessly with a raised eyebrow.

Goro: I haven’t gotten to that part of my research yet. But…

Goro’s eyes shine with a mischievous glint.

Goro: I do legally carry handcuffs on my person for work.

Akira: I love you.

Goro laughs.

Goro: Let me show you the depths of my love.

The evening grew older as the two explored and deepened their bond together. It wasn’t until a few hours later, Akira noticed a few new messages on his phone.

Oracle (7:36 pm) Did you do the deed peasant? Or shall I leak all your filth for the world to see?

Oracle (7:36 pm) Answer me peasant!

Oracle (7:36 pm) I can see your GPS location. Don’t make me tap into your mic fool.

Oracle (7:37 pm) JGU@*(%#(FKKK

Oracle (7:37 pm) I’m just going to imagine you two are having a very deep conversation.

Joker (11:21 pm) The deed has been done and I am thoroughly satisfied. Goro says hi btw.

Oracle (11:21 pm) EWWW. Freakin TMI DUDE. Tho I’m happy for you two. Too stupid and gay to realize how much you two were pinning over each other for like forever.

Joker (11:24 pm) Thank you Futaba, what would we have done without you?

Oracle (11:24 pm) Likely be suffering in pinning hell.

#shuake #akeshu #goro akechi #spicyfic #wingwoman futaba #pinning hell #vandyfics

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jacec88 · 4 years ago

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Imagine you met the woman of every man’s dreams and fell in love, told her first, then you made a couple of very costly but truly innocent errors and made a grave mistake in white-lying to try and put her mind at ease and broke the trust that you both valued so dearly then coronavirus came while you were working in a big hospital you had only just started a new job at and you were loving but didn’t know what you were doing half the time because you moved there to challenge yourself and it was scary and you had only just done CPR for the first time on someone on life-support just before the world started falling apart around you sitting at home with their toilet paper and losing jobs and 2 of your close work colleagues got diagnosed with cancer and she asked where you saw yourself and what you wanted and with her you knew but you couldn’t express it and you wanted nothing but to give and receive intimacy with her and the TV show you made her watch was actually all about a writer that simply wanted nothing more than to be with his only daughter and her mother and you were part Italian and you saw the hell in the corridors of Italy to Pavarotti in March 2020 and the professors and doctors at your work were terrified so you made a skateboard to take your mind off it and your parents were fighting because your youngest of 3, any only other unmarried brother was very scared and unwell and estranged himself from the family and you were on call for heart attacks and your dad thought your mum was being unfaithful but she wasn’t and you couldn’t go to the gym and the sex was amazing for you but you mildly injured your love utensil (100% better now) and you hadn’t bought a house but you should have and your workmate sent you an instrumental music playlist to get your mind off it and lift your spirits and it momentarily distracted you and 3 of your closest friends were a music producer, GP finishing his training and a psychiatrist and you went to watch horror movies with her friend who had an implanted defibrillator and you felt very uneasy when all you wanted was for her to accept you and the movie was terrible and you were uncomfortable with the situation and you screwed up and broke her heart and couldn’t forgive yourself and she had been hurt before but you broke her even more like the song she sent you that hit the charts soon after so you tried to fix it and you couldn’t forgive yourself then she had to leave you in a long and drawn out way after she quoted Star Wars on that sleepless night with the ticking clock the last time you expressed how you felt about her and she knitted you a scarf with her ageing Grandmother whom you loved and you could feel her moving on and were seeing all the signs and you felt more alone than ever on your 32nd birthday and noticed her link up with a younger hot musician/mechanic/pilot dude with Subarus but you didn’t want to lose her so you watched every get-your-ex-back video in the universe on the commute to and from the hospital then the skateboard you made got stolen and you reversed your car into a BMW then later the thoughts you had were thoughts you never could’ve imagined, picturing a leaf floating down a river, locking your past mistakes and losses in a box, then all four of your car tyres got slashed on the other side of town and a friendly Eastern-European-Australian single father missing a few teeth helped you jack your car up and fit 4 mismatched tyres in the rain so you could drive home and then her close friend reached out to open a lucky egg for best friends in Pokémon that you used to play together so you tried your luck with her then a friend-of-your-best-friend became your saviour by inviting you on jogs down the beach together as your friends all got married and had children then your best friend who was there when you met her and whom you wanted to be best man at your wedding whom you had opened up to about her started seeing her behind your back and you had to stop seeing the mutual friend/saviour whom you ran with and it divided your long-term friendship group and then you met a couple of Australian-Croats playing blackjack while on call and they were hilarious and the one in a Metallica shirt got kicked out of the casino (walked out by 7 security staff) but did nothing wrong and he asked you to meet him at the gentlemen’s club so you did and you met an amazing artist who had to turn to dancing/pornographic acting to make ends meet after she lost her job because of the pandemic who just happened to have ADHD and showered you with platonic affection and attention and you became friends and you never slept with her but parted ways then on your long and treacherous, lonely road to recovery your other younger brother’s friend invited you out for a bike ride on a bike an esteemed cardiologist had “lent” to you that you had to put new pedals on after finding a helmet that fit your big head and then you had a chance to make amends I guess at the place you met her after discovering Smule although you couldn’t sing well and you knew and had just heard that she certainly could then she took you by the hand at the place you first met and you weren’t going to go but you locked yourself out of your parents’ house but she didn’t want to hear it or wait a moment longer while her friend miraculously forgave so you wrote one big really long run-on sentence that nobody read to the end but it felt good to let it all out because you loved music more than you ever did before after you couldn’t bear it for about a year and you forgave yourself, and in losing her you lost what felt like everything and she walked away but somehow you had her to thank because you learned to be yourself and express yourself in ways you never could before and you were saved and will always remember her smile.

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kenzieam · 5 years ago

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Not Happening, Doll - Chapter Three (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, eventual smut, angst, slow burn)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @chook007 @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @clarabella960 @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @smilexcaptainx @shirukitsune @cake-writes

If I missed any tag requests, I apologize!!

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

*****************************************************************************

Levi and Bucky cannot stand each other (or rather, the former Winter Soldier cannot stand to be around the Avenger’s newest member and, like the ass he is, he won’t divulge why) and of course, they get teamed up for a new mission. It’s deep cover this time and not only do they have to work together, they have to pretend they’re MARRIED.

Heaven help them….

****************************************************************************

This is turning into a much slower burn than I thought……

***************************************************************************

The town looked quiet and Bucky was immediately suspicious. It looked too good to be true, too clean and when he voiced this, he was surprised to hear Levi agree with him, her gaze sharp as she navigated the wide streets, following the direction of her phone’s GPS. A few random people were out on their lawns or in front of garages with open doors, and they shaded their eyes and watched these newcomers, raising a slow hand in greeting that Bucky returned only after Levi hissed at him to.

The house chosen for them was tidy and neat, a large deck out front; cookie-cutter identical to the other houses on the street, different from its immediate neighbors only by color and choice of ornamental bush. As they looked closer, they noticed the startling incongruity of the front door, a bold red color.

“Think that’s a sign?” Bucky asked dryly as Levi parked in front of the garage. “They’ve already made us?”

“Well, you’re the one who wouldn’t wave.” Levi replied, perhaps even more dryly. Grabbing a suitcase from the back seat, Levi continued to the front door, fiddling with a set of keys she’d pulled from her pocket.

Bucky appeared at her side, waited until she’d unlocked the door and pushed it open before asking flatly. “You want me to carry you over the threshold?”

“Wouldn’t want you to get my ‘cooties’, Jackson.”

The ‘movers’ had been and gone; and boxes were scattered hither and yon, random bits of furniture in equally random corners. The house smelled clean but empty, not musty yet but definitely disused; Levi wondered if Jackass would object to her essential oil diffuser. Probably, asshat.

Bucky reappeared from outside, carrying the last of the ‘luggage’ and set it to the side. Rubbing a hand through his hair, grimacing as he did so, he glanced Levi’s way.

“Want to get something to eat first-“ he was interrupted by knocking at the door and a hollered ‘Hello?’

His grimace deepening, Bucky sighed and stage whispered. “Showtime.”

Rolling her eyes at him, Levi strode to the door and pulled it open. A Stepford Wife stood outside, updated for the new millennium but still a robot.

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” She trilled, her spit glands showing in her joker grin.

“Thank you,” Levi struggled to remember her manners in the light of this artificial sun. A dish was shoved into her hands and Levi clamored for a nerve-racking beat, almost dropping it.

“I’m Tiffanie! The unofficial, official neighborhood Welcome Wagon! I saw the moving truck earlier and just knew you’d be here soon, so I whipped up a casserole for you!”

Her words died on her tongue and Levi was momentarily struck dumb. Bucky appeared, pulling Levi to his side and she leaned stiffly against him, fighting to look natural.

“Thank you, it looks delicious.” Bucky leaned over and inhaled the dish, flashing a panty-dropping smile at Tiffanie who all but cooed and swooned in return. “I’m Jackson Harper and this is my wife, Madison.”

Finally finding her tongue, Levi wrested the dish to one hand and shook Tiffanie’s. “Please, call me Maddie.”

“Oh, aren’t you just precious!” Translation: holy shit, this man is totally hot and you’re totally out of your league, Madison. “Do you work at the Company?” She continued, reminding Levi of this peculiarity she’d been warned of, the townspeople’s habit of referring to the corporation as if it was it’s own entity. Interesting.

“I do,” Levi answered and, in a movement she certainly didn’t plan and would spend the next few hours analyzing and internally shaking her head over, snuggled closer to Bucky, wrapping her arm around him. Bucky hid his surprise well, only a faint tightening of his fingers on her hip giving him away, but Tiff was too dazzled by his face to notice. “Jackson works from home.”

“Oh,” Tiffanie cooed, eyes roaming none too subtly up and down Bucky. She turned, keeping a coy gaze over her shoulder. “See you both around then.” She tottered away, throwing another look over her shoulder to make sure Bucky was still looking.

Bucky stepped away and back like Levi stunk and she shut the door before turning to face him, the casserole heavy in her hands. Bucky picked irritably at his left hand; lip curled in annoyance.

“Leave it alone.” Levi scolded. “The glove is delicate, remember?”

Bucky threw her a look that clearly invited her to fornicate with herself but he dropped his hand, flexing his fist with a grumble. Stark had furnished him with a lifelike skin-t0ne glove to hide his metal hand, but it was less than perfect camouflage and didn’t fit exactly, prompting Bucky to pick at it like a hangnail. It would do for long distances, but he probably wouldn’t be able to fool anyone if they actually grabbed his hand and looked closely.

Levi glanced once more towards the door and batted her eyelashes like Tiffanie. “You have an admirer,” she teased.

Bucky’s answering grumble was louder and he muttered something almost totally inaudible, but Levi thought it sounded like ‘not the one I want’. He turned and stormed away, throwing irritably over his shoulder. “Don’t fumble like that next time, I might not be there to save your ass. Remember your goddamn lines.”

Levi couldn’t help it and stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.

****************************************************************************************** “Hey, you home?” Levi called, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“Where else would I be?” Came the flat reply.

“I don’t know,” Levi snarked, leaning against the doorframe and looking inside the guest room, now commandeered as Bucky’s ‘office’. “Maybe at the hospital finally getting that stick out of your ass?”

Bucky glowered briefly at her but didn’t respond and Levi snorted in frustration, pushing away and continuing towards the master bedroom, her bedroom

“Hope you don’t hog all the covers, doll.” Bucky grumbled, moving to stand beside Levi.

She glanced at him in mingled surprise and exasperation. After telling her to ‘remember her goddamn lines’ earlier, Bucky hadn’t bothered to say anything since, choosing to organize his ‘office’ like a bull in a china shop, swearing and muttering under his breath as he tried to make sense of the mess of equipment set up for him by the ‘moving company’. Some of it was for show, in case anyone ever wanted to see what a children’s book illustrator did, but most of it was uber-top secret; monitors and speakers and other such accoutrement to aid in their spying of the neighborhood.

Levi busied herself with organizing the rest of the house, making faces at some of the shit that had been chosen as their cover, including skillfully doctored and supposedly joyful wedding pictures; Levi and Bucky, no sorry, Jackson and Maddie gazing into each other’s eyes, dressed casual at their trendy beach wedding, sharing a kiss; posing on an empty country rood in cream colored fisherman’s sweaters and L.L. Bean Boots, the stereotypical ‘autumn’ photo set.

Thankfully, some forward-thinking agent had stocked the fridge and freezer, and with minimal burrowing, Levi found a frozen dish to reheat for supper. There was no way in hell she was going to sample Tiffanie’s casserole. It was probably laced with arsenic… or laxatives.

Bucky hadn’t commented beyond a grunt when she’d called him for supper, or rather, had poked her head in his ‘office’ and snapped ‘supper, asshole’ at him; and he’d been no more loquacious the rest of the night. Only once Levi started preparing for bed did he reappear like a damn whack-a-mole with his ‘don’t hog all the covers, doll’ comment.

“Don’t even worry about it,” Levi snapped. “You’re not sleeping in here with me.”

“Why the hell not? We’re ‘married’.” He made little air-quotes with his fingers.

“I’d rather have a razor-blade enema.” Levi growled. She pointed out the door. “The other guest room has a bed, sleep there; dream of Steve or Tiffanie or who-the-fuck-ever, just stay the hell away from me.”

Something flashed in his eyes, too fast for Levi to catch, then he whirled and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

“Anything interesting?” She called, pulling off her button-down shirt, wishing she could snap off her bra as well and fly free, but she didn’t want any snide comments from the peanut section, or even more strange, a long, silent appraising glance like she’d caught Bucky giving her every now and then. Still shirtless, she shimmied out of her pencil skirt and reached for a pair of yoga capris. Snagging a tank top, she headed back down the hallway, pulling the shirt over her head as she re-entered the doorway.

Bucky stared at her, his hungry gaze missed by Levi as the shirt temporarily covered her face, then turned blankly back to the monitor before Levi could see him ogling. She stepped in further and leaned close, eyes fixed on the monitor Bucky was himself trying to focus on. Her scent surrounded him, and he unconsciously held his breath, held in the involuntary moan that Levi’s proximity seemed intent on drawing from him.

“Not much.” He finally answered, staring directly at the monitor, his hand moved, tapping at the screen and bringing up a new feed. “Finally got one planted at 1411.”

“Good, the Kramer’s.”

“Yeah, whoever.” Bucky’s hand tightened in his lap and he cleared his throat. “What about work, you hear anything?”

“Not much, just the usual gossip. Did you start anything for supper?”

“No.”

“Why not? It’s after 5?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Levi snorted and pushed away; as she left the room, she threw over her shoulder irritably. “It’s not going to emasculate you, he-man, to enter the kitchen once in a while. This isn’t the Forties anymore.”

Bucky bit back an angry reply, embarrassed because Levi was right; he had dropped the ball today. After planting that elusive bug at the Kramer’s, he’d found himself caught up in daydreams as he sat in the office and monitored all the feeds. Dreams of Levi had stolen his attention, visions of her naked and glorious spread beneath him, straddling him and riding him like a warhorse; fuck, even just smiling at him the way she smiled at Steve. Jesus, it pissed him off, to be ensnared like this, a slave to his mind and body. She didn’t want him that way, and even if she did-

“Hey! Did you hear me?” Levi appeared in the doorway again, annoyance darkening her hypnotizing eyes.

“What?!” He snapped in return, focusing defiantly on the screen.

Levi sighed and there was such an edge of sadness in it that Bucky jerked his gaze up her, unable to disguise his concern as fast as he wanted to. But Levi didn’t seem to notice, and if she did, she didn’t believe it.

“We just got invited to a barbeque tonight, can you stand to be that close to me for a few hours?” The sadness was gone, replaced with a healthy dose of sarcasm and Bucky felt about two inches tall for making her feel that way.

He cleared his throat again before answering gruffly. “Yeah, sure… whatever.”

Levi rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. “Fine, be ready in 15 minutes.”

******************************************************************************************* As soon as they were out of eyeshot from the Hayden’s backyard, where the barbeque was still in full swing, Levi dropped Bucky’s arm like he was on fire. Stinging from the rejection, Bucky attacked.

“You managed not to fuck up tonight, good job.”

Levi took a full step to the side and threw him a dirty look. “You too, although I’m sure if you’d smiled at Tiffanie any wider, she would have dropped to her knees and blown you.”

“Jealous?”

“Hardly.”

“Madison, Jackson! Welcome!” Another Stepford wife trilled, fake lashes creating their own breeze with each blink.

“Alison, thank you for inviting us.” Levi replied, working to lighten her voice and force a believable smile. Bucky’s arm encircled her waist and he extended his other hand at the hostess, another panty-dropping smile on his face.

Alison giggled and flicked a gleeful glance at Tiffanie before shooting a coy glance at Levi, who smiled vacantly back as if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that these two women were eyeing her man.

Levi was pulled towards a cackling group of hens while Bucky was dragged towards the suburban male equivalent and for the next hour or so, they were blessedly free of contact with each other.

“Maddie, how are you settling in?” Tiffanie cooed; eyes drawn once again to the direction Bucky had been taken. “Jackson seems to be enjoying himself?”

Hardly.

“It’s great here,” Levi replied, trying briefly to emulate Tiffanie’s coo and just as quickly abandoning it, she’d never achieve that level of vapid. “Y’all have been so welcoming!”

Y’all??

Levi was almost pulling out her geometric black bob by the time Bucky found her, the tightening at the corner of his eyes the only indication that he too was as thoroughly done as she was. A wave of relief, yes, that’s all it was, relief, flooded Levi as he moved to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear.

“Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“Yes.” She hissed back, lips brushing Bucky’s skin. His shudder of revulsion was unnecessary, however.

They managed to hold onto their smiles until they’d left the backyard, until Levi had pulled her arm away from his.

“Christ, I need a drink.” Bucky grumbled as he fumbled with the door key.

“You can’t get drunk.” Levi pointed out.

“So, it’ll be fun to try.” Bucky retorted, finally pushing the door open so hard it crashed against the wall.

“Whatever, live it up.” Levi grumbled, striding towards her room.

“Wait-“ Bucky reached out, snagging her arm, not even sure what he was going to say himself until it tumbled out of his mouth. “C’mon, it’s pretty pathetic drinking alone, stay up and have one too, huh?”

Levi eyed his hand on her arm before directing her hard gaze on his face. She studied him for a long beat, eyes boring into his before nodding stiffly. “Okay, give me a minute.”

Biting his lip to disguise his grin, Bucky nodded and moved into the living room, pulling open the liquor cupboard and selecting a bottle and two rock glasses. Levi returned, wearing pajama pants, a tank top and housecoat open over top and Bucky sneaked an instantaneous glance, taking her all in, from her graphite-grey pedicure to the cute little top-knot she’d managed to pull her hair into.

Grinning mischievously, Levi pulled something out from behind her back and brandished a bottle that Bucky immediately recognized, drawing a wide grin on his face.

“Where’d you get that?”

Levi had the grace to blush. “Might have ‘borrowed’ it from Thor’s stash.”

“Hand it over,” Bucky reached for the bottle of Asgardian mead and popped the cork, pouring two-fingers worth in each glass before holding one out for Levi to take; nodding her thanks, Levi accepted it and sat on the wide sectional couch, crossing her legs and leaning back into the sumptuous cushions.

Bucky sank down into the armchair opposite, resting one ankle on his knee and studied the amber liquor before taking a small sip. It burned in the best way.

“Mmmm, good.” He murmured, eyes flicking up to Levi, watching hungrily as she too took a sip, eyes closed in pleasure, head tipping back for a moment and smooth column of her throat open for Bucky to see. He looked away quickly as she opened her eyes, head dropping forward again.

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” Levi asked quietly, picking at a cuticle.

“I don’t know… we haven’t really uncovered anything yet, just a few whispers, nothing concrete.”

“Maybe there’s nothing here to find.” Levi’s eyes were dark like bruises in her face.

“Or maybe we just need to dig deeper.” Bucky countered quietly.

They fell into silence again, staring reflectively at their glasses and Bucky was hit with a sudden compulsion to speak.

“Levi, I-“

Levi inhaled sharply, something akin to fear in her eyes. They flicked to the wall clock and Levi suddenly stood, setting her glass on the table with a loud clink. “I forgot; I have an early meeting tomorrow. I should get some sleep, good night Bucky.”

“Hey, Levi-“ Bucky began, standing and turning to face her retreating back but Levi continued down the hallway, her door shutting behind her.

Anger hit him then, abrupt and hot; what? She couldn’t even stand to be around him anymore? Fine, what-the-fuck-ever.

The glass creaked in his hand and heat flamed his cheeks. Why was he so furious, and why was he feeling so disappointed at the same time? Fine, doll. You want distance, sure.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and levi #bucky and lev #bucky and nika

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scoopsohboy · 5 years ago

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I Got You Babe || Platonic Richie x Beverly

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction in YEARS and my first time ever writing “It” fanfiction. I have a BIG series in mind based in the universe of this fic but, I knew I needed to get this piece written down first. This whole series is inspired by this moodboard post created by asthmaticeddie. Go check it out, Kay is so talented and lovely! My fic would likely be Eddie POV, so I would never get to actually write this scene! So I’m doing it anyway!

Summary: Richie gets into a fight at a party. Bev has to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood and spit, slight internalized homophobia. Angst that becomes fluff.

Word Count: 1508

Richie had fucked up.

That much was painfully obvious to on-lookers who watched Bev as she escorted him from the party. She flashed her brightest smile whilst moving her newfound responsibility by the collar of his Hawaiian shirt through the throngs of people. Her cheeks were a stark red, a harmonious gradient from her cherry lips to her fiery locks.

She shot a quick look back to where her friends stood, mere feet away from the incident. Eddie and Ben were watching the pair storm away, concern plastered all over their faces. Meanwhile, Bill, Stan, and Mike clearly had a handle on damage control, talking Bowers and Co. down from rushing at Richie. Who, by the way, was just asking to get choke-slammed through a coffee table at this point. The punch across the face was an appropriate escalation.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer!" Richie shouts bitterly, before throwing his empty beer can in their general direction. Bev picks up her pace and tightens her grip.

Despite how it feels as if this crowded college party is never ending, the pair finally make it to the front door. Somehow, Stan had managed to follow the pair through the crowd and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. It didn't fix anything but, the gesture reminded her to inhale, in addition to exhaling. Imagine that. Richie opted to sit on the front porch while he waited for his roommate.

"He's messy tonight," Beverly grumbles, running her hands across her face and up into her hair.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Stanley observes, head cocked, eyes following Richie as he begins to spit excess blood and saliva onto the ground, "He looks normal enough to me," this elicits a soft, tired chuckle from Beverly and Stan cracks a smile, "Seriously, though, do you want any help with him?"

"No, no, Stan the Man, you're good. He's just gonna make it his goal to bother you the entire time anyway."

"Fair," he pulls Bev into a side hug, as they stand in the doorway, watching Richie hock a glob of blood and spit on the pavement once again, "And hey, if you make it through the night, tomorrow we'll get breakfast on me." She hummed her appreciation of his proposal, giving his side one last squeeze before stepping into the threshold of Trashmouth Wrangling.

"Bevvie!" Richie cheered as she stormed past him and towards the car, "We should stop at the store!" He caught up to her within two strides, trying to hold her hand.

“No,” Beverly declared, knowing she was already in for a long night. Richie pouted, before spitting yet again, “Stop it. Get in the car."

Spit.

"Don’t spit again, Richie!"

Spit.

"I swear to God! Stop! Spitting!”

Spit.

She hit her much taller friend on the back of his curly haired head, as he laughed against the cool October night. Upon impact, Richie’s glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, as crooked as the smile playing on his lips. He leaned clumsily against his friend’s dingy Ford Freestyle, the freezing touch of the vehicle cooling him down. His intoxicated laugh had echoed off into whatever residential neighborhood the pair had found themselves in this time. He looked off down the street, expectantly, as if he was waiting for someone to return his drunken call. The quirking edges of his smile faltered as he turned to beam down at the angry redhead. Her perfectly and intentionally sculpted brows arched at his childish display, “You done?”

He smiles wider, full of teeth. He spits on the pavement again before spiraling into hysterical laughter. He had no spit or blood left in his mouth at this point. Just defiance. Beverly extends both of her hands forward and shoves her friend, “How fucking old are you?!” her cry is shrill as she goes to get in the driver’s seat. Richie, knowing that he’s already pushing his luck, gets in the passenger’s seat unprompted. He even buckles his seat belt without a glare required. He leans far back in his seat, “Old enough,”

“Can you not quote Superbad at me right now? I don’t even know how to get out this fucking neighborhood!" Beverly begs, fiddling with the GPS her aunt had gifted her before the semester had begun.

"Are you mad at me?" Richie asks.

"Yeah, Rich, I'm fucking pissed," the engine revs alive as they pull away from the curb.

"Why? I held on to your hair tie all night, like you asked," he holds his wrist out dramatically, providing evidence. The redhead rolls her eyes, softening slightly. Slightly.

"I'm mad because you couldn't just let that piece of shit have the last word. Just this once!" Bev lectures, "Everything was going fine! We managed to pull Mike out of the library for one Friday night! Ben was socializing while he got us drinks!"

"Bill was going to makeout with you," Richie quips.

"You know what, Trashmouth, maybe he was!"

"He was not. Too nervous,"

"Ah! Irrelevant!" Beverly's face had done this lovely little trick it does when dealing with intoxicated Tozier, where it fluctuates from pale to bright pink to the brink of purple, rinse and repeat, "You did enough showing off for Eddie before Bowers showed up. This didn't do you any favors. I don't think beaten to a pulp is exactly his type,"

This struck a nerve.

Richie fell silent in his seat, suddenly very intrigued by the rolling foliage that whipped passed the window. His hands gripped the sides of his seat, fingers picking at the torn upholstery there. Bev didn't push it; she would remember to yell at him for that later. She glanced over at the lanky man every few minutes, looking smaller every time she did so. His busted lip was pursed into a thin line and his posture was frail, hunched. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the only part of him that was active.

Bev broke the silence, "He's probably worried about you, ya know."

"Why would he be?"

"Rich. I'm your roommate. I'm your friend. Do you think I don't have eyes?" A whine escaped from his lips and he shut his eyes tight at the realization that his secret wasn't much of a secret anymore. She gave her friend a wry smile that was practically audible, as she reached her hand across the center console to hold his, "Or a functioning gaydar?"

The duo laugh at this, Richie letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, "Please," he begged, "never use that term," despite how it had alleviated tension between them, it built up a bubble inside him, how quickly this new "quirk" about him gave her the ability to shove him into a box. Bev nods. Richie begins to fiddle with the radio. Despite being drunk off his ass, he was still too sober to be having this conversation.

"Richie...it's not like anyone of us Losers would judge you. Eddie's out and proud-"

"And that's good for Eddie," he cuts her off, wanting to change this conversation as rapidly as he's flipping the channels.

"I just...don't see why you don't just come out and go for it? I have no idea if he likes you back...you're a little polarizing like that. But what is the harm in trying?" Bev wonders, genuine support and a longing to understand in her voice.

"I don't know if there's anything for me to come out as," Richie admits, leaving the radio alone, "I mean...I think Eddie's great. Well...probably more than great. Definitely more than great," he ignores the giggles that emit from Bev, "But...am I really...gay? I couldn't tell you. I've made out with Stan's sister enough back home-" he cuts himself off to respond to Bev's scandalous expression, "you don't know shit-" she throws her head back and laughs, "that there's no way I can't like girls. Do I even need to come out? What does that even mean? Can't I just date who I want? Can't I just make out with who I want at a gross college party, no questions asked?"

Bev shrugs in response, her attitude towards Richie having made a complete 180 since their car ride began, "You got me there," she pulls his hand up to her mouth and let's a kiss linger there until the red light turns green, "We're almost home, Richie, just relax. We can keep talking about this and cuddle on the couch. Or not. Either way, this stays between you and me, bub,"

"What a fuckin' sap," he playfully teases, before turning the volume dial on the radio nearly all the way up. Through the speakers of this behemoth of a car twangs the familiar, funky chords of Sonny and Cher's "I Got You Babe". The two share a look. A look of love and exhaustion and understanding...of the fact that they were about to scream-sing this song until the very last note. This song was a promise. Melodramatic and disco-based. But a promise nonetheless.

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starker-stories · 5 years ago

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The Cold, Chapter 5 - The Messages Series

This chapter on AO3

By @thestarkerisobvious and @starker-stories

New chapters in the series post every Thursday.

All links are to AO3. You don’t need to be a creator to have an AO3 account. You can have one solely as a reader. But to read anything at all in this series, you can just be an anonymous reader and/or commenter.

The best way to keep up with The Cold is to subscribe to the story on AO3. And the best way to keep up with the Messages Series is also to subscribe to it as well as the individual stories. That way you’ll know when the next book is added.

Tags: Tony Stark Feels, Peter Parker Feels, College Student Peter Parker, Established Relationship, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Tony Stark Still Has Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Kink, Peter Parker is a Mess, Spider-Man powers, Communication, They Finally Communicate!, And Fuck Of Course Look at Who It’s Written By Of Course They Fuck, Avengers Compound

The entire Messages Series. All links are to AO3.

Messages Unsent (complete & posted)

Nothing More Than A Machine (complete & posted)

Tomorrow (complete & posted)

My Virgin (Revisited) (completely & posted)

The Cold (completely written) posts every Thursday

Untitled Book 6 ( in progress )

Untitled Book 7 ( in progress )

Chapter 5: Breaking In The Bed

They ignored the entire rest of the building, ordered Chinese, and ate dinner in Tony’s suite. After, Tony noticed that Peter still seemed to have something on his mind that wasn’t quite making it out of there. Their first walk had led the boy to opening up so Tony suggested another one out in the night air, away from the light pollution of the city where the sky was just filthy with stars.

They discussed the plans for the next day. What measurements of his abilities Peter thought he needed. What tests Tony thought might get him those results. And both of them making mental lists of what physical exams to ask about, what Doctor Cho might think Peter needed.

When they walked back into the building, Sam was sitting in the common room with some sort of paperwork spread out on the dining table in front of him. Tony completely ignored him, as he always did. Let the guy send whatever it was to Stark Industries, let the accountants deal with it, Tony had zero interest in the whole venture anymore. Cap used to call him out for ‘lording it’ over him because of who paid the bills. He had no idea how easy he had it compared to his successor. Any pretense Tony had of the Avengers being a team that he was a part of, was gone. He was the lord of this goddamn manor and he answered to no one in it.

New-Cap glared at them both, but mostly at Tony. Probably something to do with said paperwork. Peter noted it all with detached curiosity. The weighty conversation he had meticulously planned was finally over, and Tony was still holding his hand. He felt as if a building-sized weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Peter had asked him for a tour of the compound. It had been years since being there and even then, he saw very little of it.

“Things are boring here.” Tony let his voice drop, quiet. “The quote-unquote common room is just that… common. Nat’s… the office has the holographic conferencing that Stark made. More boring. You’ve worked on more complex equipment with FRIDAY.

“Through there, though…” Tony nodded at what looked like a wall but was actually doors. “That’s where the quantum tunnel I built is. Though it’s much more complicated than the name implies. Nothing at all like Pym’s device. His sent you hurtling off to god knows where. What’s back there is a precision piece of equipment to work with the Time GPS and…” Tony broke off his explanation. While he was immensely proud of the science behind it, the end result was…

Tony was the lord of the manor — a haunted manor.

“The labs we were talking about on our way here are more interesting,” he said, turning his back to the massive doors. “We’ll see them tomorrow when you visit Dr. Cho,” Tony said. “While I have had a finger in a lot of the pie here, it hasn’t been actively for a long while. Not getting back to it either. When SHIELD is up and running again, I plan on letting Fury handle the entire thing, including funding this shitshow.”

Sam left him alone instead of endlessly haranguing him. The glare was tolerable and expected. Barnes was nowhere to be seen, neither was Scarlet CarPark. And best of all, Fury and his minion squad weren’t onsite yet. Tony knew that Dr. Cho and Dr. Selvig and whoever else had set up camp in the mostly unused labs would be there. Scientists were a predictable and obsessive lot. Free, fully equipped, lab space and a nearly unlimited budget? Where else would they be?

Once he and Peter left the common area and headed down the hall to the suites, Tony had escaped. When the door shut behind him, he felt the world’s weight slip away. Tony settled his hands on Peter’s waist and the kid rested his head on his shoulder.

“Sanctuary, baby,” Tony whispered against Peter’s hair, taking in the boy’s familiar, soothing scent. “We can leave the problems out there, yours and mine. Here it’s just the two of us. He ran his hands up over Peter’s back and he felt him relax.

“We don’t have to have sex,” Tony said, softly.

He could go either way, but the day had been an emotional one for Peter. After an emotional week for them both. He wanted the kid to know that, while their sex life was amazing, and one of the things that probably kept them together during the rough patch, Tony didn’t want it to seem like an obligation. The ‘escort’ accusation still guiltily stung a little. He’d never meant to make his love feel that way.

Peter, however, looked horrified.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he all but gasped, then dissolved into giggles at the sound of his own voice. He threw his arms around Tony, hiding his face to cover his embarrassment, pressing his whole body against Tony’s to make his point.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I mean… I just… I kinda need you tonight, Tony.”

“Time to break in the bed?” Tony said with a smile.

Peter started a little, looking at Tony in alarm.

Tony undressed, leaving only his boxers, then he climbed onto the bed. “C’mere baby,” he said, rolling onto his side, holding his lower arm out waiting for Peter, who had only taken off his shoes and socks, to nestle into it.

“I want you in bed with me,” Tony said with a little smile as Peter stood awkwardly, looking uncertain. “Let me see that body you wanted to show me…”

Peter smiled, feeling relief (and maybe a little pride) and came close to the edge of the bed. Looking Tony in the eye he took the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it, slowly, over his head. And if he stretched his arms, flexing his biceps just a bit, was he really to blame?

Tony gave Peter a long, slow look up and down his rather amazing torso. The kid’s abs were a thing of dreams. The first time he saw Peter without his shirt made him seriously question his morality.

“Yep. Still beautiful. Still Peter.” The look gained heat. “Still mine.”

Peter fell into Tony’s arms and pulled him close, shamelessly diving his head into his favorite place in Tony’s neck, hiding there and holding his lover in a crushing embrace. It had been a very long day, it had been a very long week, and suddenly Peter felt like he hadn’t actually slept since the night Tony returned from Australia.

But he was still alarmed at the idea that he was going to “break the bed.”

“You… know… nothing’s changed, right? I’m as strong today as I was last night and the night before… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you… I brought you here because I needed you to know it wasn’t all in my head…”

“Baby, whatever we find out this is…” Tony ran his hand flatly down the front of Peter’s body. At the waistband of his jeans, his fingers twisted the button free and pulled down the zipper, but went no further.

“Whatever you’re afraid might be going on in here…” He ran his fingers up into Peter’s wind-ruffled hair and brought him in for a slow kiss. “I am still going to be exactly where I am right now. Holding you close. Wanting you. In love with you.”

“Oh god Tony…” Peter murmured, then sighed in frustration as he realized he was doing it again. Listening to the incredible things Tony was saying and responding with the same three words. But there was no helping it.

But as Tony had said, words meant nothing compared to deeds. And so Peter did.

Kissing Tony back Peter took Tony’s hand and boldly put it exactly where he wanted it. Then he put both hands on his lover’s face and, still kissing deeply, lay back and gave himself over.

Tony cupped the rise of Peter’s cock, still clothed in his jeans and underwear. He kneaded gently over the boy’s still-soft bulge, rubbing and caressing the shape of it, moaning into Peter’s kiss. The kid could still take him apart with just a kiss. It confused him, but he recognized, and admitted, his need to be desired as well as to be desirous.

He curled his arm up behind Peter’s neck, fingers tangling in his soft hair, as they kissed, one chasing after the other. His other hand went from caressing over the soft, worn denim, to find its way into the waistbands there. Touching his swelling cock, trying to wrap his fingers around the shaft. He stopped and gave the side of Peter’s jeans a little downward tug.

“Too many clothes,” he murmured against the kid’s lips.

Peter immediately obeyed and soon jeans and underwear were on the floor.

Tony’s hand closed around what he’d been seeking. He slid his leg between Peter’s, moving the lower one closer to him, the upper one a little further away. When the boy was fully hard, his hand sought the warmth between his legs. His fingers found their way behind Peter’s balls to massage between them and his opening, but stopped with that gentle touch.

Peter obediently parted his legs for Tony’s hand, moaning in appreciation, slipping his leg higher over Tony’s thigh, giving him more access. He longed to take Tony’s hand and move it inside him, god he needed this badly, but he kept his hands combed through Tony’s hair and let himself be touched.

Tony gave a little moan and slowly, wantingly, his hips writhed against Peter. “Oh yes,” he said at Peter’s boldness.

He took Peter’s leg higher and raised it the rest of the way until it draped over his waist… and Tony didn’t want to lose this. Both of them tangled up in each other. Instinctively, he reached for the far pillow — which on this smaller bed was a lot closer — and he found… nothing. Damn. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually slept in this bed. And if he did, it most definitely was alone. Of course the lube wasn’t where it should be. But he knew that, even sleeping here alone, he had some in the nightstand drawer.

He kept them in the exact same position and tried to reach it. Too far away. He grinned at Peter as he pushed his leg back down but clung more tightly to his chest. He rolled toward the nightstand, still holding Peter, rolling him back on top.

“I’ve never slept with anyone in here before.” He gave a little shrug as he rolled them further, putting Peter on the opposite side to him. “Never fucked anyone here,” he added, dropping the euphemism. Dammit he still wasn’t within reach. He mentally cursed his fondness for overly large beds. Tony laughed as he rolled once again, putting Peter beneath him. He held his weight up though and this time, he opened the drawer and got what he was looking for.

Peter began giggling, breathless and silent.

“On the way back, baby,” Tony said, joining his own giggle with Peter’s. It was an absurd situation and about as far away as his typical smooth, suave magical appearing lube trick as you could get. Quickly, he rolled them back to their original position. He sighed when he got there. Tony brushed his hand lightly through the kid’s hair. He kissed his forehead with a quick, light kiss. “We get to christen a new bed that’s never been fucked in.” A little groan escaped him. “It’s only gonna be yours. Ours.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant by ‘breaking it in… I thought you… I thought you were afraid I was going to break the… oh god.” Peter couldn’t really speak anymore. He was too busy smiling. He was the first person Tony had sex with on this bed? As he wrapped his legs around Tony's waist he felt like laughing for joy.

#starker #messages series #Messages Cold #von writes stuff #thewitchway writes stuff

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mimzy-writing-online · 6 years ago

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A Witch’s Memory, Chapter One, Felix

They’re not listening to me, as per usual. It drives me nuts. “I’ve been to furniture shops and antique shops. I’ve been too something called a home décor shop, which is somehow different from the first two things. I’ve been to a Walmart at the hours of noon and seven and midnight, and after all that, I’m less convinced that Walmart is a real American thing than I was before. Seriously, it’s like those doors are portals to an upside-down universe running on the confusion of mortals and run by an unrealistically low number of employees.”

“Oh, stop complaining,” Anna says as she loads bags of freshly bought dorm supplies into the boot of the car.

“There is a man named ‘Josh’ who stands in every corner of the store simultaneously while also working the check out line and mopping the floor? All at once?”

Anna rolls her eyes. “Did you seriously just say ‘Josh’ with air quotes?”

“It’s not possible. That place can’t exist in our realm, I’m certain of it.”

Auntie and Anna ignore me and get into the car. “Is there anywhere else we have to go?” Anna asks as she checks her mobile.

Auntie turns the car on and sets the GPS of her mobile for someplace new. “A witchcraft supply shop. I need some ingredients for my next few projects.”

There’s something about Aberdeen in that is scenically beautiful and eerie at the same time, and I’m not sure why that is. I don’t know what makes it eerie. It’s a small town surrounded by forests and open fields. It’s streets are lined with rows of small shops and old buildings. The houses don’t match, some of them are a century or two old, others a few decades old, and some only a few years old. It’s too beautiful for words. Maybe that eerie feeling comes from how perfect it looks and the uncomfortable awareness that few things can truly be perfect.

“Can we get anything?” Anna asks as we walk down the brickwork path towards where the magic shop it, passing under shady trees and passing strangers dressed light for the hot weather.

“Depends on what it is,” Auntie says.

I open the door for them and watch as they immediately deviate to different parts of the stores. Auntie combs through shelves and shelves of packaged herbs and bottled oils, supplies for all her potions. Anna goes to a table piled high with candles. To the bookshelves in the back I go, looking for spell books.

Even if I have a bunch that haven’t been fully studied.

There are lots of spell books I’ve never seen before, some that were published maybe a year ago, with fresh paperback covers and a new book smell. Colorful covers and attention-grabbing titles and authors both new and renowned.

“Boo.”

I jump and drop the book of trickster spells. Anna leans against the shelf she was hiding behind, smirking.

I glare at her. “Must you?”

“You’re easy to sneak up on.” Anna gives me an unapologetic smile and picks the book up. She gives me one raised eyebrow. “’The Trickster’s Grimoire of Mischief’? Looking for pranks?”

“Maybe?”

“For whom? Please tell me it’s for your future classmates and not for me.”

I give her a Cheshire Cat grin. “Where’s the fun in plotting if I tell?”

She groans and takes the book, balancing it with the large yellow candle and the worry stone already in her arms.

I raise an eyebrow at the stone. “Don’t you have three already? Do you really worry that much?”

She shrugs. “I like to hold them when I’m trying to concentrate on something, like school. I like the tactile feeling. It helps. And besides, this one’s rainbow. None of my others are rainbow.”

She drifts away, idly walking around and looking at the shelves. “You know what’s odd?”

I fall into step with her, with that same grin. “Numbers not divisible by two?”

She rolls her eyes. “How do you manage to make math puns on two braincells?”

“Power conservation. I reserve half of my brain function for puns and reserve the other half for irritating you.”

“Only one braincell needed to be that obnoxious? I’m amazed by how successful you are.” She turns and walks away.

I turn the opposite direction, and something catches my eye, a display of mugs, all of them witch and magic themed. Some are glossy black with “witch’s brew” written across in white scrawl, almost like a cauldron. Others have witch movie or book quotes, like “I’m not a witch, I’m your wife!” from The Princess Bride, most blessed of all fantasy fiction.

And then there’s “I’m not a morning purrson” in a black mug with a white sleepy cat outline next to it.

I hide it behind my back and look around. “Anna!”

She walks out from behind a shelf, eyebrow raised.

“Would you say you’re not a morning purrson?”

She sighs and falls back against the bookshelf with exhaustion. “Is that another pun?”

“Purr-haps.” I show her the mug.

She laughs softly, smiling at it. “Okay, that one’s not so bad.”

“You should get it.”

She shakes her head. “I think you should get it; puns are definitely your thing.”

“But you’re even less of a morning person than I am.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, but I still think it suits you more.” She walks past me and looks through the display for something more fitting for her.

I pick out a purple mug that says “Tea Brewing before Potion Brewing” but Anna wrinkles her nose at it and says it’s more Auntie’s thing. Then she picks one up, plain white with a fluffy, cloud-like black cat wearing a witch’s hat.

She holds it, examining it, admiring it. “Not super me, but I like it.” She holds it close to her chest. “For my dorm, for tea.”

We drift towards Auntie with our finds in our arms. She looks them over before frowning at my book.

“What are they thinking selling a book like that when they’re so close to a school that teaches witchcraft?” she asks, setting it on the counter away from everything else.

“They’re in the business of making money, not worrying about witchy stupidity,” Anna says with casual tone and a smirk.

Auntie hums and pays for everything, minus the book. “I’ve had enough of your magical pranking to last me my lifetime. I don’t need to encourage it.”

Well, there’s always the internet for ideas on magic pranks.

Author’s Note: Follow this blog for writing advice and updates on A Witch’s Memory, my YA contemporary fantasy novel.

[Image Description of Collage: First photo is a hoard of fireflies in the forest. Second photo is a bookcase with old hard back first editions of books and a tea cup. Third photo is a wooden wand with a handle that has been scorched black with fire. Fourth photo is a green neon sign that says “What are you afraid of?” Fifth photo is a dark haired guy looking at the camera wearing a grey long sleeve shirt. Sixth photo is a red neon sign that says “You have been warned” Seventh photo is silhouette of a guy reading a book by a window as it rains outside. Eighth photo is a hand holding a feather quill that is white with a black tip. Ninth photo is a sunset of a town with an orange sky in the background. End of Image Description]

#wip #excerpt from my book #a witch's memory #writeblr #writing community #my wip

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iambuckyrogers · 6 years ago

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Let Her Go

Summary: After an unfortunate foot in mouth situation you and Bucky are torn apart. How will you recover?

Word Count: 1980

Warnings: almost smut? (Idk how to phrase it, it gets raunchy), mention of anxiety angst, breakup, some swear words,

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Authors note: this was written for @queenofkings121 . Sorry it took a little while, I started really well but hit a block, ugh! But it’s done now yay. I haven’t written anything like this before so I had a lot of fun trying out something new. I hope that you enjoy it! Likes and reblogs always appreciated xx

Prompt: Can you write one where Bucky accidently calls the reader Nat during sexual intercourse and she breaks up with him. He's been staring and talking about, talking to and just hanging out with Nat for awhile and him saying her name during sex was the last straw? Also, she ends up with another guy [non-avenger] and Bucky regrets letting her go?

* * * * *

The door to the bedroom banged open and hit the door stop sending a crashing boom through the corridor.

“Bucky,” you snickered wrapping your legs tighter around the super soldier’s waist.

“What? I needed to get the door open didn’t I?” He sassed back before dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Your laughs turned into moans as he began kissing your neck, nipping and sucking at your soft skin. You tilted your head up to give him better access, your hands wound into his hair and pulled gently as he continued his ministrations. He tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling away from you just long enough to rid you both of your tops before crashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss. It was all tongues and teeth, desperate and needy. Using all your strength you rolled so that you were now straddling Bucky’s hips. With a hand to his chest, you pushed him onto his back, moving down his body so you were chest to chest. You pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, eliciting a delicious moan which caused heat to pool between your legs. You sucked dark marks onto his neck, soothing them with a gentle kiss before continuing your trail down his chest. Your hands roamed up and down his sides, caressing his hard muscles with gentle fingertips before settling you grip on his hips. You kissed down his happy trail, mouthing at his clothed erection which drew another guttural moan from the man beneath you.

“Oh fuck yeah Nat,” he ground out. Instantly you froze, eyes snapping up to look at Bucky but he hadn’t moved, his eyes were shut, head thrown back in the pillows.

“You called me Nat!” You snapped pushing yourself up to sit back on your haunches.

“I - no I didn’t. I said just like that,” he spluttered.

“Cut the shit Bucky I’m not fucking deaf,” you yelled getting off the bed and feeling around on the floor for your shirt.

“Just calm down Doll, it’s not a big de-.” You cut Bucky off with a sharp slap to the face.

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s not a big deal,” you choked out, eyes stinging, fists balling at your sides. You yanked your shirt over your head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind you

The gym was empty, as you had expected because it was 2am after all. You made a beeline for the boxing bag, not even bothering to pick up gloves on your way through. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hands clenching at your sides as you thought about all the warning signs that you had ignored. You opened your eyes and imagined the boxing bag was Bucky’s stupid face, throwing punch after punch onto the hard leathery surface. You thought about the last Thursday when you walked in on Nat and Bucky discussing your anxiety behind your back. You remembered how two weeks ago they were play fighting over the remote, ending up on the floor on top of each other. With each new memory, you were hit with a new surge of anger, fuelling your fists to hit the boxing bag harder. Your body was heaving and sweat poured off of your furrowed brow as you went to town, letting out all of your anger and frustration. More and more images came flooding back, Bucky and Nat having their own movie night, Bucky staring at Nat’s ass at the gym, the two of them hanging out more than you ever did with Bucky. Your anger slowly turned to sadness, your arms began to turn to lead, each punch harder than the last until eventually, you collapsed onto the floor. Tears streamed down your cheeks, you hugged your knees into your chest and let the sadness roll over you, suffocating you as sobs wracked your body. That was how you stayed until you felt numb and had no more tears left to cry. You pulled yourself to your feet and headed to your room. Not even bothering to shower you collapsed onto your bed and drifted into a restful sleep.

The sharp ring of your alarm pulled you from your sleep. Drowsily you got dressed and headed into the kitchen for breakfast. You prayed to whatever gods were out there that Bucky wouldn’t be around, but your silent prayers were left unanswered because as you rounded the corner you saw him stood behind the stove. You thought about turning around but why should you flee when he is the one clearly in the wrong. You pulled out a chair behind the breakfast bar and sat yourself down.

“Morning,” Bucky said cheerfully making you want to smack him again. He had turned around from the stove and was plating up his bacon and eggs.

“Mhm,” you grunted back.

“Listen, Y/N, can we talk about this?” Bucky asked.

“What is there to talk about James?” You spat, Bucky visibly shuddered at the use of his real name, it was something that you knew upset him so you used it to your advantage.

“Us, last night, everything really. I was talking to Nat about our situati-,” You cut him off with a crazed laugh, shoving yourself off of the chair causing it to clatter to the floor.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled, “she’s what got us into this situation,” using air quotes around the word situation.

“Ok let’s just take a deep breath.”

“Actually I will, and I’ll use it to tell you that we’re over, James. Go talk to Nat about that,” you stormed out of the kitchen not waiting to hear Bucky’s response. You needed to get away from him, put as much distance between you and your problems, so you headed down to the garage. Ignoring Friday’s warnings that it wasn’t safe to drive in your mood, you picked a car from Tony’s rather ridiculous selection, got the keys from the glove box and took off down the driveway. You didn’t know where you were going and you didn’t really care, you were just happy to be out of the compound.

It wasn’t long before your stomach began to growl. You got the GPS to take you to the nearest Starbucks because after your ordeal you deserved a good coffee. Thankfully the shop wasn’t busy, the line moved quickly and in no time it was your turn to order.

“Yeah hi I’ll have a -“ you blanked, not being able to say your order, it reminded you of all the times you and Bucky had gone to Starbucks together, how he would get a milk moustache and whipped cream in his beard. Tears sprung back to your eyes as you recalled your many coffee dates.

“Ah, sorry, are you alright?” the barista Joel (according to his name tag) cleared his throat as he looked at you with concern.

“I’m so sorry,” you sniffed wiping your eyes, “I’m ok.” Joel scoffed.

“No, you’re not”

“Well, you’ve got me there,” you laughed.

“I know its definitely not my place since I just met you but I get off in 5 if you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” He offered. You thought about his offer, he seemed genuinely sincere and you didn’t really have anyone else to talk to.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you stared and he looked slightly disappointed, “but I’d like to be distracted.”

“Consider it done.” You gave him a weak smile before going to find a spot to sit. Realising that you hadn’t even made an order you were about to go back to the counter when Joel appeared with two drinks in his hands and a beaming smile.

“I don't know what you drink but I hope this is ok.” He set one of the glasses in front of you before taking his place across the table. You took a tentative sip of the drink and were pleasantly surprised with how good it tasted. Much like the drink, Joel’s company was better than expected. He helped distract you from your problems for a little while before you decided to open up to him and he actually gave you some really good advice. You continued to talk for hours, only having to stop because the shop was closing. You exchanged numbers and headed back to the compound in much better spirits than when you left.

That wasn’t the last time you saw Joel. You texted frequently and even called each other occasionally. You went on a real date, followed by plenty more. You were finally happy and ironically you had Bucky to thank for that.

*****

While all of that had been happening, Bucky had been on a mission. After you stormed out of the kitchen he had burst into Fury’s office and demanded to be put on the first mission that came up, he needed time to think away from the compound. Fury had obliged, sending him on a reconnaissance mission somewhere in the middle east. This gave Bucky plenty of time to think. Time to think about all the things that he’d be missing out on without you in his life, to think about how lonely he was sleeping all alone, how you were the greatest thing to ever happen to him and how he threw it all away so easily. He spent the rest of the mission crafting a speech to give to you, to tell you how he fucked up and how badly he needed you in his life, how you gave him meaning and how he needed you back.

As the mission was nearing completion he was growing restless, needing to see you more than ever and rectify his mistakes. He had been gone 2 months by the time he got home. The quinjet engines had barely stopped spinning when Bucky launched himself off of the craft and into the compound, heading straight for your room despite it being 2am. Friday had tried relentlessly to get him to debrief, Fury and Hill were waiting for him but he didn’t care, the only thing he was thinking about was you. He banged on your door frantically, the speech he had crafted running around his head, adrenalin pumping through his veins. Eventually, you opened the door wearing a silk robe, the soft light from a bedside lamp shining behind you creating an angelic aura around your sleepy figure.

“Bucky, what the hell is going on?” you whispered, voice heavy with sleep.

“Y/N, I never should have let you go,” Bucky began.

“Buck-“

“No, please just listen to me,” he pleaded, his voice laced with desperation, “You’re all that I can think about, every waking moment is plagued with reminders of you and even in my dreams I can’t escape. I miss the way you’d play with my hair when we’d be in bed, or when you’d do silly impressions on missions to keep us entertained. I fucked up Y/N, I really did. I let the best thing I ever had go and I’m here to get it back, to get you back.” Bucky pushed your door open and entered your room, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Please,” he whispered, putting his hand on your cheek and leant in closer only for you to pull back.

“Bucky no,” you didn’t look him in the eye, he followed your gaze to your bed where a man was laid sprawled out amongst the covers. Bucky stumbled backwards as if he had been shot

“His name is Joel,” you explained quietly, “I’ve moved on Bucky, I think its time that you do too.” With that you shut the door, leaving Bucky to pick up the pieces of his broken heart like you had to do yourself 2 months earlier.

#Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel fic #marvel x reader #mcu #bucky x reader

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