#ALSO can we just at the fact james is finally wearing shorts that dont go past his knees lmao

[dy3rs3v3]

Metallica looking comfy and casual during rehearsals in Gothenburg at Ullevi Stadium, Sweden, 2023

Pics by Ross Halfin

[futurewriter2000]

Blind Love

A/N: This took soooo long to write. You guys have like no idea. I started it in November but finally decided to finish. Sat here 2 hours, holding my pee because I needed to finish this and I did. Finally! Also gotta write as much as I can because I have so much to study. Like panic and stress and BREATHE TIJANA. Okay, I’m good. I’m great and fabolus. And appereantly great at drinking water all day and holding the pee. Lol. Anyways hope you like it. Some feedback would be nice tho.

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Potter! reader 

WARNING: Bro this took so long idk how many grammar mistakes were there but watch out. 

REQUEST: Can you do a Sirius Black x reader were the reader is James sister and they dont talk cause James cause james is a jerk (I actually love james but whatever) but in first year her and Sirius become close but he they dont tell James cause Sirius doesn't want him to be mad and the reader is in live with him but when Sirius kisses her when hes staying at the potters and they start dating but they still keep it a secret then she tells him she can't do this cause she doesn't wa--->To finish my ask (didnt realize I wrote so much) she doesn't want to be 2nd choice and then Sirius is like you'll always be my first choice or somethin cheesy like that. Also I love your blog.

XX 

All your life you have been taken care for. Since the day you remembered that first morning, first sunlight, first eyes, first smile, first felt happiness or felt sorrow,... it was as if all your life you have been taken care for, but by yourself. 

Because from what you knew, there wasn’t first morning or first sunlight, first smile or anything that you remembered for the first time and the reason for that was your brother. 

You’ve been different than the rest of the family and it showed. It showed in the way you looked and it showed in the way you acted. There was just that distinct detail that made you stand out from the rest of the family. 

James was the golden child, the favorite child, the one who got to have more attention. Maybe it was because your parents had some trouble in conceiving the first time and when they got James, they were beyond happy. While you? - you were a child they never intended to have. It was the favoritasim of the first child, the first boy in the family, that made James feel more superior to you. He didn’t much try to hide that fact. 

It was as if the two of you were born star-crossed. The two of you were just too different to get along. 

“Would you turn off that bloody music, already!” he stormed in your room. “It’s making me want to jump out the window!”

“Really?” you quirked an eyebrow at him and jumped from on your feet. You stood in front of him, arms crossed and a devilish smirk appearing in the corner of your mouth. You made your way towards the stereo but instead of reaching for the volume button, you turned towards the window and opened it. “Here’s your chance.” 

“Chance to throw you out of the window? That’s a better idea.” he ran towards you but you pushed him away. 

“Don’t touch me you knob head!” you shouted at him but he only wrapped his arm around your neck and trying to give you a noogie. 

“Who’s the knob head now, lil sis?” he laughed but you elbowed him in the stomach and you tackled him, taking the pillow from the bed and hitting his head.

“You’re! Such! A! Fucking! Prick!” you shouted while hitting his head with a pillow. 

He grabbed your arms and tried to prevent you from hitting him any further. His glasses were a bit crooked on his nose and his face expression wasn’t telling you he was in a good mood either. He threw you on your back and quickly sat on top of you, pinning your arms on the ground. 

“Will you turn down the music?” 

“No.” 

He twisted your arm so hard it made you turn on your stomach. Your shoulder was in so much pain but you were stubborn on your answer. “Reckon this is going to change my mind?” you let out a painful laugh.

“Nope. I reckon this will.” and he twisted your arm further that you let out a scream so loud, your parents quickly ran into your room. 

“What in the Merlin’s Hat is going on in here- James get off your sister!” your father pulled James off and helped to get you up as well. “You okay darling?”

“Okay?!” you scoffed, holding onto your arm.”I thought he’s going to pull my arm off my body.”

“I could have.” he quirked an eyebrow and placed a satisfying smile on his smug face. 

“James!” your mother scolded him but he only opened his arms and changed his expression.

“I told her so many times to stop blasting the music but she just doesn’t listen!” he defended, pointing his finger at you. “I have upcoming Newts coming up after these holidays and I can’t study with her being a noisy little prat!”

Your parents exchanged looks, the looks you were far too familiar with. But you weren’t having this. You were not about to let him take away the only thing it was yours. 

“Maybe, darling we should-”

“No!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest and moved in front of the stereo. “I worked all last summer to get this stereo! It’s not yours to take away!” 

“(y/n), honey. James needs-”

“And like James is dense enough to fail a Newt.” you scoffed. “You are not taking it!”

“Well, young lady, that is not your decision!” your mother raised her voice, took out her wand and with a flick made your stereo disappear.

“That’s not fair! Dad!” you turned to your father, who only put his hand on your shoulder and sighed.

“You’ll get it back. I promise.”

“I don’t want a promise. I need a father- You know I’m not even surprised!” you backed away from your father, glaring at all three of them. “His wish is your command, isn’t that right?” you felt your eyes water but before any of them could notice it, you stormed out of your room.

You loved your parents, you really did but when it came to choosing sides, they both always picked his. That stereo was the only thing you most loved. It was simply because it was yours. You bought it with your money that you worked so hard for.

It was always like that. Always the one against all. 

But as you were walking down the road, freezing with no jacket what-so-ever, your thoughts kept wandering off. Every time ou thought of your family, you’ve grown furious but then it was a second when all those thoughts vanished. You tried to think of something, anything but there was nothing but emptiness in your head. 

You sat on the bench by the road and you hugged your arms. Throwing your head back, you took a deep breath in and gazed upon the stars. 

It was at that moment, realizing the beauty and serenity of those white spots on the sky that made you think of someone close to your heart. 

And like a wish come true, it happened.

“(Y/n)?” his voice echoed in the background and you smiled. It sounded so real in your head, as if he was right there next to you. “It really is you!” you could feel steps approaching, you let your head fall back down and see a boy approaching you. 

As he apporached with opened eyes you noticed he was not in your head. No, far from it. He was right in front of you. “Sirius?!” you stood up and with a smile you jumped in his arms. 

He wrapped his arms around you so tight, taking in your wonderful smell and laughed. You held him tight as well, your head on his shoulder  meanwhile his hair brushed your neck. Lifting you up and spinning you in his arms, you laughed and with all the joy, finally asked. “What are you doing here?” 

He put you down on the ground and cupped your cheeks. “You look amazing-” his face expression suddenly changed as his hands travelled to your bare shoulders. “Why are you not wearing a jacket? You’ll freeze to death!” He quickly took off the jacket and wrapped you in it. 

“Honestly, I’m fine- what about you?” you nodded at his bare arms. “Won’t you freeze?”

“With you beside me? Never.” he winked. “What are you even doing here by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” you nudged him a bit, feeling your cheeks burn as his arm touched yours. 

“Uh-” he ran his hand through his dense hair and started avoiding your eyes. You knew where this usally led to. 

“Sirius?” you tried to catch his eyes and when you finally did, he relaxed and simpered. 

“I ran away... from home...I guess...” 

“You guess?” 

“I just didn’t know where to go-” he continued but you only wrapped your arms around him and smiled.

“You’re always home with us.”

---

Weeks passed after Sirius came living with you and you could say everything seemed more peacful when he was there. You were always so calm, knowing he was just a room away. James was more distracted as well, never had much time on bugging you when he was always with his best friend.

The two of  you kept exchanging glances during dinner, in the living room or anywhere where the two of you ended up. 

It wasn’t until late July when all five of you were in the living room and you were seated next to Sirius the whole movie. It was dark, the only light coming from the television in front of you. Your father was already asleep on his armchairl, your mom already in her bedroom, meanwhile you, Sirius and James kept watching the movie. 

James was sitting on the far left corner of the sofa, meanwhile you were seated on the far right, leaving Sirius right in the middle. And as you were watching the movie, slowly feeling yourself zoning out, a hand took a hold of yours and interlaced its fingers with you. Immediately you looked down and saw Sirius staring directly at the TV. You looked over to James, who might as well be asleep over that armrest and kept his feet sprawled over Sirius lap. Then you looked over to your father who was pulling in light snores and lastly, you looked back at Sirius, who was now looking at you from the corner of his eyes. You moved closer to him and you stayed close to him the rest of the movie. 

It was until you were in the bathroom, taking a quick shower and slipping into your T-shirt and shorts aka your pijama when the doors quickly opened and Sirius slipped in, closing the door behind him and placing his hand over your mouth before you could speak. 

You stood there, frozen and looking up at him with big, wide, confused eyes. 

Slowly, he removed his hand from your lips and smiled. “Hey.” 

“Hey?” you smiled half nervously, half with butterflies in your stomach. “There was someone in the bathroom, you know?” you started to tease and he smirked, taking a step closer and putting his hand on your bare cheek. 

“I know.” he moved even closer. “I just need to do this.” and he pulled you into a kiss and with much surprise, you couldn’t help yourself but slip on the wet floor. Luckily for you, he wasn’t much keen on lettin you go so quickly so his hand wrapped around you, pulled you up and he continued to kiss you. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

---

It wasn’t easy after that kiss or any other kiss that came after. The two of you tried so hard to get together without anybody noticing but it was impossible. James hoovered over Sirius like a helicopter, He always wanted to be with him not matter what and Sirius didn’t do anything about it. 

Not that you were expecting him to do...sure...yeah... they are best friends...closer than that- it doesn’t even matter.

Oh but it did. To you it did because every second alone with Sirius was not enough for you. It wasn’t but he kept telling you that telling any of the family would jeopradize his staying with all of you and you kept reassuring him that they would never kick him out. It didn’t take though. There was never enough time for the two of you to even fight.

At some point you were happy but at the same time you were sad. It couldn’t be as the two of you wanted it to be. He was afraid hurting James meanwhile you were afraid always put on second place because of James, which was exactly what you felt. Always James, James, James. It was pulling your patience by the guts until finally that patience snapped. 

“NO! YOU CANNOT ALWAYS DO THIS TO ME!” you shouted at your parents.

“Lower your tone young lady.” your father warned you.

“LOWER MY TONE?! THE HELL WITH MY VOICE IT’S NOT LIKE THE TWO OF YOU WOULD CARE SINCE ALL YOU SEE IS YOUR PERFECT GOLDEN BOY OF A SON! GOD DON’T THE TWO OF YOU GET IT!!” you continued to shout at the top of your lungs, feeling tears gather in your eyes. “All my life I have been alone!” you now indeed lowered your voice and when they tried to speak, you cut them in. “No! I’m speaking now.” you glared at your mother. “I cooked dinner when the two of you worked late. I washed the clothes. I cleaned the house. I fixed the lamp. I went to get groceries. I study hard for good grades but all of that is never enough.” tears continued to fall down your cheeks. “Not for you because when you got home all you say is that I cooked chicken and I should bloody know James doesn’t eat chicken meanwhile dad and I love chicken. And bloody hell (y/n), why didn’t you wash James’ jersey with that?” you started to quote your mother. “Maybe because he was too busy scratching his balls instead of cleaning his room and throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry basket.” you answered for yourself. “Yes, you cleaned the living room but the bathroom won’t wait forever to be cleaned as well.” you started to quote your mother, then your father. “James could have fixed it better. You know honey, that’s a man’s job.” then your mother again. “Why did you get pudding? You know you’ll just get fat with that- no worries, James will eat it. He needs it more than you since he’s a Quidditch player.” and lastly your father. “Charms and Astrology never caused James any trouble. Maybe you should study more like him.” you continued to look at them as they watched you silenced. “All I wanted was “You did great, honey. Thank you.” and I wanted support or just be appreciated for the hard work I put into pleasing the two of you but all I get is James thrown in my face. It may sound dumb to you but to me this has been with me all my life and I’ll raise my tone, I’ll say it to the two of you because I am done losing my nerves and patience because of it!” you said, walked away, grabbed your jacket, put on your shoes and walked into the hallway.

James was standing in front of you. Sad.

“What?!” you snapped at him but he just shook his head.

“It’s not like that, (y/n). You don’t see it when-”

“Well, call me when there’s actually gonna be some of that to see.” and with a flash you were gone. 

---

You felt so dumb yet so furious. You caused the whole drama because you were jealous of your brother always being in the spotlight yet you were so furious because all that spotlight over-shadowed you. 

“You know running won’t help.” you heard Sirius behind you.

“You’re the one to talk.” you snapped at him, getting up from the swingset and turning around. “What were you planning to do, Sirius?! Huh!”

“I don’t know. I thought about getting an Auror job after, get myself a nice-”

“I don’t mean with that! You know James and my family always has your back!” you shouted, turning back around so you weren’t facing him and letting him see your tears that crawled out at the mention of your family. “I meant us. Did you just do lall of that because you don’t have any of those other girls to be with as you are when you’re at school?” 

“What?!No!-”

“Because that would totally make more sense than actually thinking me and you could work out.” you turned around, smiling hysterically. “With me being James’ little sister and all, you know?” you kept pushing yourself further down. 

“What are you even talking about?!” he started to get angry as well.

“YOU!” you shouted. “You always choosing James! You would! You would be just like them! Always putting my stupid brohther on the first place! And I’ll alwas fall second.” you sighed and threw yourself on the swing, rocking forward and back. “Guess I have to get used to the idea I won’t ever be the first choice to anyone.” you scoffed, feeling completely pathethic and sad. “Just leave, Sirius.”

You could hear him standing there, shuffling with his jacket then later sitting on the swing next to you. “I didn’t come all this way to this fantastic swingset to not try the swings. now did I?” he kept running his fingers up and down the swing chain then finally pushing himself pack and swinging forward. 

“Sirius...”

“Wow, I can actually see the house from here.” he swung higher and kept going. “Maybe if I go high enough I’ll see James’ sister who’s clearly so goddamn invisible.” he exaggerated and you looked at him from the side. 

He jumped from the swing, landed and stood for a while. “Oh well, maybe it’s impossible.” 

“It’s not funny, Sirius.” you said and he immediately turned around to you.

“WHO’S THERE?!” he pulled out his wand. “I’m a wizard! I can melt you into unicorny sparkly puddle!” he looked at you, then lowered his wand. “Oh- well would you look at that?” he said as he continued to stare at you. “Another empty swing.” 

“Will you stop it?” 

“Will you?” he replied harshly. “How can you say all of that? You know the first day your generation came to Hogwarts, you stood out the most and James beside me was so Goddamn proud of you. He was so proud of you that day and I was astonished. Because you were the most gorgeous First year there.” he was now in front of you. “You were fun, easy to talk to, trusting, fiery- you were the combination of beauty but deadly. The only reason I dated those other girls were because I couldn’t have the one I wanted.” he put his hands on your knees. “I knew you were the one for me even before I realized it. You were always the first for me. Always first place. I always had that seat reserved for you. Always and James? He loves you, (y/n) but like all the Potter’s you’re too dense to actually see what’s in front of you. He worries about you all the time. He keeps asking if I saw you eat, always pranking the boys who hurt you, sometimes even intimidating them... with me as his side-kick of course.” he added and you smiled. “He knows about the favoritism and he does argue with both of your parents and it’s not all black and white like you see it. And in school, he always talks about you, no matter I fell in love with you.”

You smiled even wider at him. “You fell in love with me?”

“You had me in your palm the moment you pushed James into the compartment in before your First year in Hogwarts and kicked him in the gentle parts.” he said and you laughed. 

“Merlin, you remember that?”

“What Gryffindor doesn’t remember that?- Look, that doesn’t even matter right now.” he quickly changed the topic and gently brushed his thumbs against the back of your hand. “You and James will always be siblings, there’s no changing that fact and James will always be the favorite but this is not a battlefield, (Y/N). Even if it was, you have all of your family on your side and me- the only enemy you should be worrying about are the insecurities that get to your head. You’re being loved. Trust me.” and he looked deep into your eyes and for him you did the same, knowing, at that moment, that you are being loved, you were just too blind to see it. 

[wintersxsoul]

The Night We Danced

Summary: Two dorks in love that have to wait to get drunk to confess their feelings.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Maybe some language, drunk people and I think mentions of sex?? 

A/N: This is my entry for my dearest @writingsoftheloser 1k historical writing challenge! I got the Victorian Era, so I came up with this longass nonsense. I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback and reblogs are free and make me really happy and motivated <3

  Bucky Barnes was a dancer.

He sometimes had flashes of his old life in the late 30’s and 40’s, long summer nights dancing with beautiful dames, little Stevie by his side laughing and stepping in the ladies’ shoes. Everything was much more simpler, happier, but war happened and the dances turned into battles, the warm hands that he was used to hold became rifles and glocks. The jazzy tunes turned into gunfire, dates turned into risky missions and the thought of a long happy life turned into dust when he fell off that train.

Bucky Barnes stopped being a dancer to be a soldier, a spy, a deadly assassin.

They had taken all he was away, all his memories, his hopes and dreams. Everything was wiped but not his motor skills or knowledge. They turned him into the most efficient soldier, cold and calculating, his only motive in life was completing his missions. He had killed mercilessly, not questioning even once who was in front of the gun, he just knew he had to pull the trigger.

Everything changed the moment Steve Rogers, his best friend since childhood, found him 70 years after being used and tortured. Steve saved him from the claws of Hydra and gave him the opportunity to gain back his own self, to finally give his life meaning again.

His life changed drastically when he joined the Avengers, he could use his unrequired skills to help people, to save lives. He had his closest friends, Steve of course, Sam, Nat and then he met you. Once he was able to recover almost all his memories, he had a long heartfelt conversation with Natasha since she had suffered in similar ways. The brainwashing, the body killing training, the horrors of the Cold War and the cruelty of the Red Room.

You and Nat were inseparable, both becoming SHIELD agents the same year. You were a freelance hitwoman, both of your missions were to kill the same target. But before you could kill each other, SHIELD stepped in and rescued both of you, seeing your potential and the ability to do the missions other agents weren’t able to. When Bucky first came to the compound, you were away because your last mission went badly and it almost killed you, so Fury and Steve decided it was better for you to lay low for a while. Months went by and Bucky’s curiosity only grew, he really wanted to meet you, since everyone talked about you like you were an angel. When the time came to finally meet you, everything he ever heard about you was not nearly accurate to him. You were as much of a mystery as Nat, but unlike her, you opened up to him fastly, trusting him blindly. You both held each other on your worst nights and were also there for the other when you needed a good laugh.

You could have never imagined that the infamous Winter Soldier could be such an absolute dork with such a pure heart and soul. At first he was a bit sulky and moody, he was like a ghost around the compound, but months of therapy and help from his friends turned him into the man he was today, the man you loved deeply, even though you lied to yourself trying to make it seem like a platonic feeling. For years you remained as best friends, until the masquerade ball Tony organized for Natasha’s birthday.

“So, what are your plans for the party?” You asked Bucky nonchalantly while you looked for costume designers online. He looked up from his book and shrugged, he really didn’t know what you meant but he knew you would elaborate. You closed your laptop and placed it on your nightstand, all your attention on your friend now. You laid across the bed, resting your head on his lap. You were staring at the ceiling so you totally missed Bucky’s adoring gaze.

“Well, apart from getting hammered with Thor’s Asgardian alcohol, I don’t really know.” You rolled your eyes internally at his comment. You laid on your stomach so you could face him, your chin resting on your hands on top of his chest.

“Obviously you are doing that, but it’s not what I meant.” Bucky chuckled and you rolled your eyes. You weren’t sure about asking him to be your partner, maybe he was planning on going with someone else, maybe he wanted to go on his own. You cleared your throat while reaching out to fiddle with the laces of his hoodie nervously.

“Are you going with someone?” He frowned, realizing that you didn’t assume (like he did) that you were going together. Maybe you were planning to go with a date? He knew it had been more than a year since you had dated someone so maybe you wanted to use the party as an excuse to do so?

“What you mean with someone? I d-”

“You should ask Sarah from Forensics, I’ve heard she has a huge crush on you. She’s sooo soft and pretty. I have her number if you wa-”

“Okay, Y/n stop right there. I am not going with Sarah or with anyone else but you.” His eyes widened at his own boldness but he quickly found a logical explanation.

“I mean, we always go together to this kind of shitty parties we both dread. But if you are going with someone else is fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I just thought that maybe you wanted to go with an actual date and not your best friend.” He tousled your hair and you whined jokingly. He mumbled “dork” and you stuck your tongue out.

“My best friend is pretty cool and when she gets drunk the party starts, so I am not missing that for Sarah from Forensics.”

“Oh god James, and I am the dork? You absolute dumbass.” You shook your head in amusement and sat on the bed, putting your disheveled hair in a low ponytail. You slapped him lightly on the right shoulder and got down of the bed, gathering your stuff.

“I can’t stand to see that beautiful stupid face right now, I have to look for a fucking dress. You better wear something in dark red cause, you know it-”

“it’s my color” he mocked you using a high pitched tone of voice and laughed at the face of disgust you jokingly pulled off.

“Fuck you.”

“Why don’t you f-” His sentence was cut off by the bang of his door closing but you already knew what he said. You rolled your eyes and made your way to Nat’s room since you needed to organize shopping days and all that stuff.

-

Bucky Barnes was a dancer and fortunately he still had some moves, but waltzing was out of his league. He knew what a masquerade was of course, so the fact that he had to learn how to dance a completely different style was...frightening to say the least. He talked about it with Steve so they both were headed now to a masterclass while their dates were out shopping. Nat had asked Steve as her date because she wanted to go with his best friend. Their friendship was the most platonic you’ve ever seen and watching them flirt and banter was the highlight of your days. Nat was a fantastic dancer of course, she used to be a fucking ballerina, so she offered to teach you some moves. She was the only one who actually knew your feelings towards Bucky because you had confessed them one night you had drank your weight in vodka and when you saw Bucky’s text asking you to please be careful, you laughed and told her. You didn’t remember that conversation and when Natasha tried to ask you, she realized she shouldn’t bring up the topic until you were ready to believe it yourself.

“Ooof Nat, should I really buy this expensive dress?” You asked her while checking yourself out in the mirror. The dress was absolutely stunning, made of a dark red taffeta or a similar material, short sleeved and a beautiful v-neck, not very revealing but enough to make your babies pop. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt was puffy.

“Listen, Stark is paying for everything, that includes our dresses. So yes, you are going to buy it.” She stood up and lead you back to the changing room so she could purchase both of your dresses.

Steve sighed heavily at Bucky’s complaints. They’d been dancing for four hours straight and they weren’t getting any better, or at least that’s what they thought. Bucky really couldn’t believe he had been dragged into this mess just because he loved getting drunk with you under any circumstances.

“Come on Buck, don’t worry. You two will probably be too drunk to even stand, why bother so much in learning this shit?” Bucky rolled his eyes and nudged his friend on the shoulder.

“Listen pal, I wanna do this right. You know how much I love dancing so this is just an excuse to learn something new.” He could almost believe his own lie, but Steve knew better. He knew Bucky better than himself, so he obviously knew the unspoken thing that was going on between two of his best friends.

“Okay buddy, whatever you say. I just hope Y/n appreciates all this instead of laughing at you like Sam and Nat are probably going to do.” He muttered something to himself and left the room without saying a word.

“Fucking idiots, I hope they fuck soon.” Steve said to himself before turning around and smiling at the dance teacher.

“Let’s do this Janet, I have a very dangerous woman to impress tonight.”

-

“I really, really, really, really regret the day I gave you access to come into my room whenever you want to.” You told Bucky, who was laying on your bed on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. You slumped next to him and buried your face in the pillows as well. You really thought you looked like idiots but you couldn’t care less.

“Can we stay here? We can watch one of those victorian romantic movies you love and get wasted on our own.”

“You know I would love to, but Nat would kill us. Besides, you hate those movies.”

“I was just trying to persuade you Barnes, you don’t need to be so rude.” You stood up and opened your first drawer, pulling out the two masks you had bought throwing Bucky’s to his head and he responded with a fake “ouch”. He sat on the bed and looked at you amused, the small mask in his hands.

“And you have the nerve to call me rude. I already have my mask and I won’t show it to you until tonight.”

“Wow, sorry for thinking about you and your shitty memory, old man.”

“You know what Y/n? I’ll see you tonight before I throw myself out of that balcony.” You giggled at his fake tantrum. You really loved your friendship with Bucky, because even though you were always joking around each other, you had your backs. He was always there and so were you.

“You want me to walk you to your room?” He frowned at you but his eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say, but you said it before he could cut you off. “In case you don’t remember where your room is at.”

“That was one time Y/n, please let it go.”

“Never.” And with that said, he left. You giggled remembering the first night you two got drunk together. It was the first time Bucky had tried Thor’s alcohol so he was excited to finally get drunk after all those decades. He drank by himself almost three flasks and encouraged you to drink a bottle of vodka on your own, so at 6 am, you were stumbling through your room floor because Bucky had forgotten where his own room was, so he wanted to sleep at yours.

You took a last look at yourself in your mirror and placed the mask in its place. It was a shame that Bucky had decided not to wear the mask you’d bought for him, but his taste was pretty great so you knew it was going to be amazing.

When you reached the party the place was already full of people. Everyone was dancing to the slow melodies or drinking at the bar. You noticed that Tony had removed all the furniture from the room so it looked like a grand dance hall, the usual modern lamps he owned were replaced by huge golden crystal chandeliers, the windows were covered by thick curtains that looked like the ones European palaces had. The cream and golden tones of all the decoration gave a really regal look to the party, the soft glow of the candles in the bar and the sound of champagne glasses relaxed your senses.

You fixed your long silk gloves and sighed, moving through the crowd towards the bar, where Nat stood chatting with who you assumed it was Steve, Sam was behind the counter pouring alcohol to his half empty glass.

“You mind filling this lady’s glass?” Sam smirked and you winked at him. He raised his eyebrow under his cream and red mask and he took out a tall glass.

“What would the lady like to drink?” He rested both of his palms in the counter, looking at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Vodka on the rocks, s'il vous plait.” You heard Nat choke on her drink and Steve turned to look at you while Sam just poured your drink, a smile playing on his lips.

“Aren’t we starting a bit early, Y/n? Your date is not even here.” You shrugged at Sam’s comment and took the glass when he handed it.

“Since you all seemed so surprised with my drinking choices, I’m going. I need an unjudging friend right now.” You waved your hand gracefully and moved towards the centre, trying to find Bucky. After five minutes and an empty glass, you saw his bulking figure talking to some woman. You needed a moment to gather your thoughts because he looked absolutely sinful with the outfit he was wearing. The black pants marked all his muscles, specially his thighs, those fucking thighs that drove you insane and his ass...you shook your head trying to stop your mind. You needed another drink.

“Wow look who’s back and empty handed!” Steve said to the small group. You nudged him in the ribs and asked Sam for another glass of alcohol.

“Why are you this flustered Y/n?” Nat asked you when she noticed your flushed cheeks. You fixed your mask trying to hide your nervousness and failing miserably.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your three friends shared a knowing look and you rolled your eyes, finishing your drink in two sips and encouraged by the burning liquid, you went to where Bucky was. You could now see his whole outfit perfectly and your heart swelled. He was wearing a black ruffled shirt with a black and dark red embroidered vest and a black tail coat. His face was covered by a simple half Venetian mask, decorated with the same colors as the outfit’s. He was chatting with some agent you couldn’t recognize and you felt a pang of jealousy at how he was looking at her, smiling and touching her. At that moment you realized the alcohol was kicking in and that’s why you were having those stupid thoughts. You approached your friend and placed your gloved hand to his shoulder, indicating him that you were besides him and waiting for him to pay attention to you. You catched a part of the conversation and they were talking about one of the last missions the undercover agents did, so after a court nod from Bucky and a brief goodbye from her, his eyes were on you.

“Well, look at you!” He smiled at you warmly and you felt something flip inside you. “How did you recognize me?”

“Oh boy, you can mask that face all you want but you can’t mask those thighs.” You smirked and he started laughing at your comment, making you feel proud of your wittiness.

“How drunk are you already?” You brought your hand up between your bodies and pressed your thumb and index together whispering “a little” so only he could hear it.

“Lucky for you, I drank almost a flask, so that makes us dangerous already. Wanna dance?” He extended his hand and you took it accepting his invitation. You suddenly felt really nervous since it was the first time you were going to slow dance with him but unbeknown to you, Bucky Barnes felt sick due to his nerves. He wanted this to work, he wanted to show you and the world that he was still capable of being a soft person, not this cold calculative soldier with a dark past.

The feeling of his hand on your waist and your other hands intertwined was intoxicating you, your bodies pressed together, the only thing between you two were your clothes. You spinned around the room for what felt like eternity, time for you had stopped and everyone had disappeared.

You burst the small bubble you were both in saying you needed a drink, Bucky stopped swaying you and with your hands still intertwined, went to the empty bar.

“I’ve always loved the Victorian Era, you know?” He said while giving you a glass full of vodka, and took a sip of his flask. “The clothes, the courting, the chivalry and all that fuss.” He smiled sadly at you thinking that you wouldn’t notice.

“If you could, would you go back in time and stay?”

He took another sip, now longer, and shook his head. “Of course not, you wouldn’t be there.” He blurted out without thinking and you just giggled at the comment.

“Oh Barnes, don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you would make good friends there as well.” You gave him a sincere smile and he shook his head again, taking another sip of the flask, this time a long one. You looked down at your glass and twirled the straw, looking at how the ice cubes collided with each other.

“I love you.” You jerked your head up and maybe it was the alcohol clouding your mind or the denial of your own feelings, but you didn’t notice his intense gaze, filled with love and adoration.

“And I love you too, you idiot. As my best friend, you should know that already.” You placed your lips around the straw and finished the whole drink, Bucky still looking at you shocked that you rejected his feelings without you noticing.

“No, Y/n, what I mean is that I’m-”

“You are what, Barnes?” Nat cut Bucky off and you threw yourself into her arms, kissing her face and wishing her a happy birthday. “I missed you, Nat. Where were you?” You started talking to her totally ignoring your friend, who got that as his cue to leave the party. He would never blame you for not feeling the same or not even noticing his feelings, that was totally on him, but he didn’t feel well enough to stay in the party. He knew you wanted him there, to get drunk together and then both of you ending up throwing up in the sink and the toilet, but tonight he needed to breathe, he needed to get out of the crowd.

“Hey, where is going Bucky?” Asked Steve while he approached Nat and you. You frowned and looked at the entrance, catching a glimpse of Bucky’s broad shoulders and hair leaving the party. “I’ll be back in a sec.” You said and stumbled down the bar stool, heading towards the entrance half running.

“We both know they are not coming back, right?” Steve said to Nat, a strong nod and a sigh answered his comment.

You ran as fast as your drunken state let you but before you could notice you slipped with the dress and fell.

“FUCK” You screamed to the empty hall and took off your heels and gloves, standing up trying not to fall again on your ass. Bucky was nowhere to be seen so you headed to his room, your head spinning due to the alcohol.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky startled you, making you lose balance but he caught you before you could fall again.

“I was just checking that you got to your room safely, since you know, you get lost and all that.” You laughed at his fake hurt expression and straightened your clothes. You noticed that he had taken off his mask and that you were still wearing yours. “Why did you leave?”

“I’m feeling a bit sick, I think I drank too mu-”

“James, if you don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong I’ll torture you until you do. The drinking excuse is the worst you could’ve used with me.”

Bucky sighed defeated, he knew he had to get it off his chest, after three years carrying this on his own, he needed to let the words out, he needed you to know. He reached for the laces of your mask and took it off, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek.

“I love you, Y/n.” You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance just to mess up with him.

“Baby, we already established that I lov-”

“Y/n, you are not listening. I am in love with you. I want to be your best friend, your lover, your partner in crime and your drunk buddy.”

You stared at him wide eyed, not knowing what to answer or to do. He caressed your cheek with his thumb and you gasped at the feeling, making Bucky think that you were rejecting the act. You stopped him from moving his hand and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours lightly.

“Either you kiss me or I faint, so make a m-” And just like that, his lips crashed against yours with a passion and hunger you’ve never felt in your entire life. He pressed you against the door, the stupid huge dress stopping you from feeling anything. Your brain finally woke up and you realized what was going on. Bucky Barnes loved you, he was in love with you. And you were in love with him. You pulled away and stopped him, making him step backwards scared that he did something you didn’t want to.

“You love me?” You really asked him, thinking that maybe your brain was betraying you. He nodded and looked away, not wanting to see the rejection in your eyes.

“Hey coward, look at me.” You held his chin and forced him to look at you. “I love you too, always have. I was just too damn scared to admit it to even myself.” He smiled and kissed you again, this time slower, pouring every ounce of love he had for you in the kiss.

“What now?” He asked you once he pulled away to breathe. He had his hand on the back of your neck, caressing your skin with his thumb.

“As much as I’d love you to fuck me against every surface on that room, I am drunk and tired and I need to process everything.” He nodded and waited for you to come up with what you wanted to do next. “So you are going to take this dress off me carefully cause I can’t do it on my own and it’s expensive as fuck, you are going to give me one for your shirts and we are sleeping, together.” He nodded again and smiled, leaning in again to give your lips a small peck.

“Consider it done, asshole.”

[dazedandinked]

Bad man, sad man - (Chapter 2/2)

Chapter 1: https://dazedandinked.tumblr.com/post/183189058536/bad-man-sad-man-chapter-12

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984987/chapters/42482834

Fandoms: Peaky Blinders (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett

Additional tags: Crossover, Alternate Universe, Season 3 Spoilers, Mentioned Character Death, Strangers to Friends, Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending.

Chapter summary:

Many other nights followed that first drink at the Garrison. Crowley had the chance to meet the Shelby family and to share small little secrets with Tommy.

But all the good things in life come to an end.

A/N:  So here it is! I know this work is quite short but maybe there'll be more of this odd crossover in the future.

You can find it on 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17984987/chapters/42762287

Chapter 2: But my dreams they aren't this empty

Many other nights followed that first drink at the Garrison. Sometimes they met in Birmingham, sometimes in London where Tommy had business with Mr. Solomons (another odd man Crowley had the not-pleasure to meet.) Sometimes he visited Tommy at his house or in Watery Lane, therefore  he had the chance to meet the Shelby family.

They were friends, somehow, and this was something new to both of them. Crowley have always had nothing but Aziraphale and their weird, century-old friendship (because it wasn't just an alliance anymore); Tommy had his noisy extended family, but he couldn't really say he had a friend since Freddie Thorne, and things got complicated after the war.

During their evenings they drank, smoked and talked, a lot. Sometimes alone, sometimes with Ada or Polly and, after a while, Crowley found himself quite enjoying their company as well. He liked discussing communist principles with Ada (something the world thought coming straight from hell) and talking about religion and occultism with Polly. They were sharp and clever, obviously the force holding the family and the business together. He couldn't understand why men were so convinced of their gender supremacy. Really.

And then, there were his brothers.

In Crowley’s eyes, the Shelby siblings were basically a heap of angst, rage and cheekbones. Nevertheless, he could understand why ordinary people were so respectful towards them. Arthur a crazy horse, wrecked to the core but still trying to pull his shit together; John didn’t seem to know what to do half of the time (but fortunately he had Esme, helping him the other half); Finn was just a kid trying to act like his elder brothers.

Last but not least Michael, their cousin: secure and restrained on the outside, scared and full of doubts on the inside. A bit like Tommy, Crowley thought after talking to him for a while.

With the right amount of alcool in their blood, they shared many bits of their private lives: Tommy talked about Grace and Charlie, about the war and his nightmares, and Crowley rambled too many things about himself and, sometimes, about Aziraphale. He vaguely remembers mentioning the fact that he had met Byron in person, and that he was a pompous haughty arse.

But they had some kind of agreement on not talking about work and business.

"It's not a matter of trust,” Tommy explained once, "it's just tha-- I prefer leaving all that stuff at the office, whenever I can.”

And they never discussed about Crowley always wearing sunglasses and the yellow eyes Tommy was sure they were covering. A trick of lights, the man said to himself, or some kind of disease. Or maybe he just preferred ignorance for once in his life.

***

Months passed, with more meetings and dinners, but Crowley and Aziraphale never talked about this Tommy-thing properly. After all the time they’ve known each other, it was nice to still have a secret just for himself. And besides, although Crowley would never admit it, he was a bit nervous about the angel’s opinion on the matter.

He mentioned Tommy once or twice during their conversations, elegantly avoiding every subtle question and curious glance, until Aziraphale decided to bring all this secrecy to an end.

The topic casually popped out during one of their long strolls in St. James, while they were planning one of their usual dinners.

“Oh, not Friday, sorry. Going to Birmingham.”

“Again? Really?” Aziraphale asked, his voice high pitched.

“What, are you jealous?” Crowley sniped back with a smirk on his face.

“Of course not!” Liar, the demon thought. The angel frowned, recollecting his thoughts while feeding the ducks.

“It’s just— I’m a bit surprised. I know you enjoy some human things but, you’ve never shown affection to humankind.”

“I’m a demon, I think it’s normal,” he shrugged, trying to hide himself behind his glasses.

Aziraphale chuckled, the sound of small bells coming from his mouth. “Please, dear, we both know you are not… conventional. And don’t get me wrong, it’s a good thing. This Thomas, he must be something if you’re so fond of him.” He threw the last piece of bread into the pond and they started walking again, side by side.

“I don’t think fondness is the right word. He needed help, I did my black magic thing. End of the story.”

“Because you’re a very diligent demon, of course,” the angel said wryly and Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Fine. I helped him because — I don’t even know. But his voice was so clear, his pain so real that I couldn’t help following it,” he finally admitted.

Then Aziraphale did something Crowley didn’t expect, at all. He put his hand on the demon’s arm, squeezing slightly. Physical contact was a line they crossed only for special occasion. Crowley looked at him with wide eyes and the angel withdrew his hand immediately, blushing under all the tiny freckles on his cheeks.

Aziraphale sighed. “You did something nice, it must have felt good. I can’t even remember the last time I interacted with a human being like this. Just small things to help them, our duty is to keep balance, they said.

He looked really sad and Crowley hated it with all of his heart. Melancholy didn’t look good on  that pretty face. Maybe this could sound like a stereotype, but Aziraphale have always been the one good at comforting. Crowley didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, but he would definitely make an attempt to swipe that gloomy expression away.

Stupid Archangels who give stupid orders.

“We’ve got plenty of time to fix that. What I’ve done, it was anything special. Just answer a call or two, there are so many humans that need a guardian angel”, and he gave him what was supposed to be a warm and reassuring smile (like Aziraphale would do), but that probably looked more like a crooked grin. But the angel deeply appreciated it anyway.

“Unless you are so scrupulous you want to stick to Heaven’s rules,” Crowley said amused, finally managing to get a small smile out of Aziraphale.

“Oh and, by the way, I’m not sure you’d define helping Tommy as the right choice,” he added. “He’s kind of a gangster, who knows what kind of dangerous shady business he—,”

“What?!” Aziraphale looked at him in disbelief, “You mean, the first time you take an interest in mankind ever, it is because of a dejected gangster?!” and his voice high pitched again.

Aw, Crowley thought, that’s my finicky boy.

“Are you surprised? Really? I’m not a saint and I don’t do charity. I like humans with a moral sense as twisted as mine,” he sneered.

Crowley walked away, leaving Aziraphale behind. He didn’t need to see his face to know it was red with disapproval and indignation.

“Oh, Crowley, I can’t believe it! Yo— you’re—”

“Fabulous? I know, Angel. And please don’t judge him from his job. Now, you have centuries of helping old ladies with their bags to catch up with. Chop chop!”

***

But all the good things in life come to an end, like a bottle of fine whiskey. This thought strikes Crowley’s mind every time, even though he should have learnt the lesson by now.

The day Tommy died, he got a call from Ada. He could hear the light tremble in her voice.

“I thought you might like to know,” she just said. He got all the details about the funeral and hung up the phone.

He knew that day would come since the beginning. Tommy was just a man, after all. No matter how long his life would last, it wouldn’t have been enough.

Crowley kept himself busy for the couple of days before the funeral. He had to make calls, meet people and ask for favors. He also asked Aziraphale for help, hushing him before he could start rambling about feelings and grief, forcing a cup of tea in his cold hands.

The price was high but, in the end, he had what he wanted.

It’s a nice place for a funeral, Crowley thought stepping out his car. He gazed at the thin line where the green fields met the sky. A small group of people, all dressed in black, was gathering slowly around a wooden cart.  He stayed away from them, watching Tommy’s family crying and giving their farewell. Only Ada spotted him; she waved at him sheepishly, grabbing Karl’s shoulder with the other hand.

Tommy was watching them too, sitting on a fallen trunk beside the cart. His face was calm as usual, not even blinking when he noticed Crowley staring right at him.

“You dont’ look surprised to see me,” the demon said mildly amused, and sat next to him.

“I suppose not,” Tommy answered like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Always the most unpredictable, and for the first time he didn’t avoid thinking about how much he’d have missed him.

Tommy asked for a last cigarette together and Crowley made them appear. They just stayed there, smoking in silence. At some point, Crowley took his sunglasses off, finally giving his friend a full sight of his yellow snaky eyes. Tommy huffed a smile.

“They look… appropriate on you,” and the demon couldn’t help laughing.

But then the man sighed heavily. “Do I need to leave immediately? And will— will you take me there?”

“I will, but there’s no hurry. We can go whenever you’re ready”

Tommy nodded in acknowledgment.

They sat there for a while longer, watching the cart burning slowly. He inhaled the last breath of his cigarette and stood up, giving a last glance at his family.

“Keep an eye on them, on Charlie, would you?”

Of course he wasn’t the right creature for something like that, but he decided to indulge his friend’s last wish.

“I’ll try,” and he put his pale hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

They looked at each other, a tiny smile on their faces, and then they vanished into thin air.

***

Many years later, Crowley was hurrying across the streets of London when he stumbled across a small handmade hat shop. Between sharp top hats and bowlers, he noticed a grey flat cap in the right corner of the shop window. The demon crossed the door wearing his most amiable smile, bought the hat and left in a few minutes.

He kept it in a small box at the top of his closet and, sometimes, he wore it just to remember.

(And Aziraphale never stopped joking tenderly about it.)

[werenzki]

Zach Werenski #10 - FWB ;)

requested >> yes / no

word count >> 

warnings >> just some steamy make out sessions ya hear

a/n >> hello its me the most trash human who sucks at writing/posting oops... im going to try to get back into the swing of things but please dont quote me on that cause as said before im trash :))))

It was game four of the first round for the Blue Jackets. Of course, they were versing the defending Stanley Cup Champions and losing so far this round. But you had faith in your dad’s old team. And with him being an Alumni, you were lucky enough to get to sit in the box seats when you weren’t busy. Since it’s the playoffs, you always had time to come to the arena and enjoy your favourite pastime - being a loving hockey fan.

“Y/N,” your dad calls you out, you turn from the bar - your fresh bag of popcorn in hand - to see him waving you over. He’s smiling, as he had been since arriving. Your dad always loved being at the arena.

As you walk across the suite, you realize he’s joined with a handful of guys in suits. Your dad always loved introducing you to people. These people never really cared to meet an old hockey players daughter. Most of the men in suits you’ve met over the years just smiled and would usually forget who you were by the next time they saw you. This time, you had a feeling the young men in suits were going to remember you.

“I’d like to introduce you to some of the kids on the roster this year,” your dad says as you stand beside him and look at the three young guys.

“Finally introducing me to some people my age huh dad?” You tease him, but his face says it all. He already regretted calling over his little girl over to met the cute hockey players. “I’m Y/N,” you say and extend a hand out for the boys to shake.

“James,” the blonde nods and shakes your hand.

“Alex,” the next one says and you smile in response.

Then you look at the last Columbus player. There was no missing the shiner that was his right eye. Everyone who was watching the playoffs right now knew about the guy standing in front of you. Zach Werenski, managed to block a shot with a puck last game but also managed to come out and finish the game before his eye shut. But besides the obvious injury, his face was pretty nice. He was cute.

“Zach, it’s nice to meet you,” he says while shaking your hand.

“Wow, that looks as bad as I thought,” you say and toss some popcorn into your mouth.

“Yeah,” Zach chuckles and looks down, “it’s hard to miss that’s for sure,” he adds as he looks back up at you.

“It’ll heal nice, have a little scar there I’m sure,” your dad exclaims. For a moment there you forgot he was even standing beside you.

“That’s what they tell me,” Zach nods and smiles at your dad.

“I’m going to take a seat again, you guys want to join me? I’m sure these old guys can only tell you so many stories before it gets boring, trust me I know,” you tease your dad and flash him a smile before stepping forward. You’re standing beside Zach, who’s watching you, and raise a brow.

“Yeah, we’ll sit with you,” Zach says and then him and the two others follow you to the free seats in the box.

A few minutes go by and you’re too busy wondering what Zach thinks of you to really pay much attention to the game. But then the Jackets score and you’re back into it. Never had you’ve been one to worry about guys, in fact you’ve never even really dated, it just wasn’t your style. So as it settled down in the arena again and play was simple on the ice, you had another handful of popcorn before offering the bag to Zach.

“Want some?” You ask. Zach looks at the bag for a second. “Some buttery calories won’t hurt, I’m assuming your NHL season is over with that face anyways,” you say.

Zach chuckle, “this face?” He questions, in a joking matter. You nod and eat more popcorn, watching him as he just smiles at you. “Fine, this face would love some popcorn,” Zach grabs a handful of popcorn and stuffs it into his face. You smile and then turn your attention back to the game.

—

“Summer’s almost over,” you groan out loudly and flop down on the couch. Zach chuckles as you kick your feet up into his lap. “Let’s go swim or something, come on my parents are out of town and the pool is to good to not be swimming in today,” you state.

“Can we grab some food on the way?” He asks.

“Uh hell yeah,” you say and throw your legs off Zach to stand up from the couch. “Let’s go!”

Zach rolls his eyes at you but follows you towards the front door of your apartment. It’s quite a drive to your parents house, seeing as you live in an apartment downtown and they own an acre just on the outskirts of the city. But it was also your favourite place to go. With a massive pool, hot tub, and plenty of nice green grass - and of course you couldn’t forget the ice rink near the back of the property either. But with it being summertime and temperatures high, you were currently taking advantage of the pool.

Your parents were enjoying the last couple weeks of summer in Greece - which you were unbelievably jealous about, but that just meant you got their house to yourself. In fact today had been the first day in a while you’ve been at your apartment, just to hangout with Zach of course.

“This place still sort of blows me away,” Zach says as he pulls up through the long driveway. Once he parks the car you realize that your parents housekeeper was over, which sort of put a damper on your plans. “Who’s here?” Zach questions as you two walk to the front door.

“Gemma,” you answer and open the door.

The middle aged British woman comes around the corner with her brows pulled together and a towel in hand. “Oh, Y/N, you scared me,” she says and places a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, Gem,” you say, “tidying up?” You ask, she hadn’t been around yet this week, and you knew the messes you had left around.

“Just a bit,” she nods, “come to swim?” She asks and glances at Zach now. You knew if she got a moment alone with you she was going to hit you with a few questions of the cute boy standing beside you.

“You know me so well,” you smile and begin to walk through the foyer to the open concept area that was a dining room and family room, with only an island counter top cutting off the kitchen. The high roofs were always your favourite. Just as Zach took a few steps with you, you turn around realizing your mistake, “oh, Gemma this is Zach, Zach this is Gemma,” you introduce the two.

“Nice to meet you,” Zach smiles.

“You too,” Gemma mirrors his smile and with that you’re guiding the way to where Zach could find a pair of swim trunks your brother keeps around and the towels too.

“I’ll meet you by the pool,” you say to Zach and hand him everything, “just going to grab some drinks and snacks,” you add before pushing him towards the door. Gemma was standing at the island counter watching you two.

“Okay?” Zach is confused by your behaviour but goes out the doors without a question.

“You have a boyfriend and didn’t tell me?” Gemma accuses you once the door is closed behind Zach. You fight rolling your eyes and shake your head at her.

“We’re just friends,” you state.

“Why? He’s cute, he has to like you-“

“Has to?” You question with a chuckle. As you walk towards where she stood in the kitchen you cross your arms at your chest.

“Yes, I mean you’re quite the catch, sweetheart,” Gemma pauses and puts away the pan she was drying, “and there’s the way he looks at you, gives it away too,” she smiles.

“We’re just friends, Gem,” you repeat.

“Sure, sweetheart,” she says with a smile before turning around and grabbing another dish to dry.

“So,” you begin what you had planned to say before her questioning your friendship with Zach, “you can have the rest of the day off,” you smile.

“Aha,” Gemma points a finger at you, “you are dating him!”

“I’m not!”

Gemma gives you a long hard stare, “fine, I’ll leave. I’m guessing I’m not to say anything about him coming over to your parents either?”

“It’d be greatly appreciated,” you smile.

“Alright,” she sighs and throw her dish towel on the counter, “I’m out of here then, I’ll be back tomorrow to finish the laundry though so hide your not boyfriend before then,”

You roll your eyes at her as she walks passed you, “goodbye Gemma,” you call out to her.

“Be safe!” She shouts back and then the front door is shutting behind her.

Yet another eye roll comes after her departure and then you’re on a mission. You go to the fridge and set two water bottles on the counter before sprinting up to your old bedroom where you knew a bikini was. It was small, but that was the intention, you smirk at your own reflection and adjust the strings on your bottoms before making your way back downstairs. With your phone in one hand and the water bottles in the other, you go outside into the shining sun.

Zach’s sitting at the cabana style set up just off to the left of the pool. He looks up from his phone as you approach him, and there’s no missing the look he gives you. You smirk as his eyes rack you up and down. Mission accomplished.

“Where’s the snacks?” Zach questions, sitting up straight in his seat. He had changed, now only wearing the dark blue swim shorts.

“I’m the snack,” you answer with a sly smile.

“Did you really just say that?” Zach chuckles and rises from the chair.

“It sounded better in my head,” you shrug a shoulder and watch him as he takes a few steps towards you.

“Well, to be fair,” Zach pauses and licks his lips, his eyes fall down from your eyes and you’re smirking again, “you are my favourite snack,” he says.

“Did that sound better in your head too?” You tease.

Zach chuckles again and reaches around to place his hand on the small of your back. He pushes you just slightly to be pressed up against him. You smile and put an arm over his broad shoulder. Leaning upwards just a bit, you press your lips to his and savour the kiss before it turns hot and heavy.

You didn’t lie to Gemma, you also didn’t tell her the whole truth. Ever since just a few weeks after meeting Zach, after a bar night you were invited to along with some Jackets and their wags, you and Zach were more than just friends. After a bit of thought you decided to add the ‘with benefits’ to it. It was never awkward, instead things were just naturally playful and good between you two. Having a great friendship and getting some out of it too was really more than you could ask for.  

“Let’s swim,” you say as the kissing comes to an end, of course ending with a playful push and you turning to walk to the edge of the pool. 

You’re sort of in a daze as you’re looking down at the water. You were seriously going to miss the summertime. But those thoughts were gone as you’re suddenly pushed into the pool and are pushing up to surface again, anger erupts as you glare at Zach who’s laughing at the side of the pool. 

“You dick,” you shouted. 

Zach jumps in, over you, and once he surfaces you swim over and push on his shoulders. He’s under again but then his arms wrap around your waist and your being pulled under too. It all ends up with you two both gasping for air and laughing between breathes. 

“All I wanted was a nice relaxing swim,” you stated, glaring at Zach again - who of course is smirking back at you. 

“Should’ve have invited me than,” 

“Noted,” you say and swim around him. 

Thing is you’d probably invite him every tim you were going to swim, or do anything for that matter. Because he was one of your good friends and you seriously enjoyed hanging out with him. The kissing and such was only a bonus to the great friendship you two had made over the summer. But you would be an idiot to think you could go like this and not have any feelings blossom, you were just smart enough keep quiet and play it off. What he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, or the fun you were having. 

[writingguide003-blog]

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

New Post has been published on https://writingguideto.com/must-see/a-total-blast-our-writers-pick-their-favorite-summer-blockbusters-ever/

'A total blast': our writers pick their favorite summer blockbusters ever

As the season heats up on the big screen, Guardian writers look back on their picks from the past with killer sharks, mournful crime-fighters and time-traveling teens

Face/Off (1997)

Photograph: Allstar/Cinetext/PARAMOUNT

Madman bomber Nicolas Cage stole John Travoltas dead sons life. So gloomy FBI agent Travolta steals Cages face. When Cage steals his face and his wife and freedom John Woos Face/Off becomes the biggest, wackiest and most operatic summer blockbuster in history, a gonzo combustion that flings everything from pigeons to peaches at the screen.

Hong Kong cineastes might applaud a script with roots in the ancient Sichuan opera genre Bian Lian, where performers swap masks like magic. Popcorn-munchers, of which I am front row center, are here to watch whack job Cage and soulful Travolta, two actors who love to go full-ham, play each other and go deep inside their iconographies. Call it hamception. Or just call it a crazy swing that hits a home run as Cavolta and Trage battling it out in a warehouse, a speedboat and, of course, a church. As Cage-as-Travolta gloats to Travolta-as-Cage, Isnt this religious? The eternal battle between good and evil, saint and sinners but youre still not having any fun! Maybe hes not, but we sure are. Bravo, bravo. AN

Edge of Tomorrow (2014)

Photograph: David James/Publicity image from film company

Theres been an increasing sense of desperation clinging to the majority of roles picked by Tom Cruise in recent years. Outside of the still shockingly entertaining Mission: Impossible series, he was miscast in the barely serviceable Jack Reacher and its maddeningly unnecessary sequel, his awards-aiming American Made was throwaway and his franchise-starting The Mummy was a franchise-killer. But four summers ago, he picked the right horse just maybe at the wrong time.

Because despite how deliriously fun Edge of Tomorrow was in the summer of 2014, audiences didnt show the requisite enthusiasm. It was a moderate success (enough to warrant a long-gestating sequel) but it should have packed them in, its combination of charm, invention and sheer thrills making it one of the most objectively successful blockbuster experiences in memory. The nifty plot device (Cruise must relive a day of dying while battling aliens over and over again) allowed for some dark gallows humor and a frenetic pace that kept us all giddily on edge while it also contained a dazzling action star turn from Emily Blunt whose fearless Full Metal Bitch wrestled the film away from Cruise. Blame its relative failure on the bland title? Cruise fatigue? Blockbuster over-saturation? Then find a digital copy to watch and rewatch and repeat. BL

Back to the Future (1985)

Photograph: Allstar/UNIVERSAL/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

Back to the Future very nearly wasnt a summer blockbuster. The reshoots required after Eric Stoltz was booted off, then the fact Michael J Foxs Family Ties commitments meant he could only shoot at night all meant filming didnt wrap until late April. Robert Zemeckis and Steven Spielberg duly pencilled in an August / September release.

But then people started seeing it. Test scores were off the scale. Said producer Frank Marshall: Id never seen a preview like that. The audience went up to the ceiling. So they bagsied the best spot the year had to offer 3 July hired a squad of sound editors to work round the clock and two print editors with instructions to get properly choppy. They did, and those big trims tightened yet further one of the tautest screenplays (by Bob Gale) cinema has ever seen. The only bit of fat they left was the Johnny B Goode scene: sure, it didnt advance the story, but the kids at those test screenings knew we were gonna love it. Back to the Future is a pure shot of summer cinema: grand, ambitious, insanely entertaining. Deadpool, Avengers, take note: a blockbuster can be smart as hell so long as it wears it lightly. In the end, by the way, the film spent 11 weeks at number 1 at the US box office. Thats essentially the whole summer. CS

Teminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

Photograph: Allstar/TRISTAR/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

The first film I ever saw at the cinema was The Rocketeer. We drove into Bradford city centre, bought our tickets at the Odeon and sat through the 1991 tale which followed the fortunes of a stunt pilot, a rocket pack and a Nazi agent played by Timothy Dalton who sounded like he was from Bury rather than Berlin. The way into the multiplex there was a huge poster for Terminator 2: Judgment Day. Arnie sat on a Harley with a shotgun cocked and ready. My dad was a huge fan of the original but he still couldnt swing taking a seven-year-old to see it. It wasnt until I borrowed a VHS copy that I finally got to see what was behind that image. Skynet, dipshits, T-1000s, a nuclear holocaust and a motorbike chases on the LA river.

Blockbusters dont usually have that edge: theres a more brazen mainstream appeal. But Judgment Day was and still is an exception. It did huge numbers at the box office (more than $500m), was a rare sequel that was arguably better than the original and introduced really odd bits of Spanish idiom into the Bradford schoolyard lexicon. I probably would have been scarred for life watching it as a seven-year-old, but as a teenager it gave me a story I doubt Ill ever get tired of revisiting. LB

The Dark Knight (2008)

Photograph: Allstar/WARNER BROS.

The summer of 2008 was a busy one: Barack Obama emerged from a contentious democratic primary to become the first ever black presidential nominee of a major party. The dam fortifying the entire global financial system was about to burst. China hosted its first ever Summer Olympics. But somehow, and not exactly to my credit, what I remember most from that summer is the uncanny, ridiculously over-the-top publicity blitzkrieg that preceded the release of The Dark Knight, which has since emerged as not just an all-time great summer blockbuster, but an all-time great American film, period.

There were faux-political billboards that read I believe in Harvey Dent; a weirdly nondescript website of the same name; Joker playing cards dispersed throughout comic book stores, which led fans to another website where the DA was defaced with clown makeup. Dentmobiles, Gotham City voter registration cards, a pop-up local news channel: the marketing campaign might have seemed excessive had the movie not so convincingly topped it. Ten years later, as films like Deadpool and Avengers: Infinity War try to reach those same heights of virality, The Dark Knight remains the measuring stick by which every superhero movie, and superhero villain, is measured. JN

Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

Photograph: Jasin Boland/AP

In many ways, Fury Road is summer: arid, scorching, bright enough to be squinted at. The driving force behind all the high-impact driving is scarcity of water, the essence of life in a desert where death practically rises up from the burning sand. Even in the air-conditioned comfort of a multiplex auditorium in Washington DCs Chinatown, watching George Millers psychotic motor opera left this critic sweaty and parched. My world is fire and blood, warns the weary Max Rockatansky (Tom Hardy) in the scripts opening lines. Staggering out of a theater into the oppressive rays of the sun, it sure can feel that way.

Millers masterpiece fits into the summer blockbuster canon in a less literal capacity as well, striking its ideal balance of dazzling technical spectacle and massively-scaled emotional catharsis. There was plenty of breathless praise to go around upon this films 2015 release, much of it for the feats of practical-effects daring, but the hysterical extremes of feeling cemented its status as a modern classic. I cant deny that Ive watched the polecat sequence upwards of a dozen times, but Millers film truly comes alive in Furiosas howl of desperation, and in Maxs noble disappearance into the throng. CB

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

Photograph: Alamy Stock Photo

Its the music, its the giant boulder, its the Old Testament mysticism, its the whip, its the Cairo Swordsman, its Harrison Fords crooked smile, its the bad dates, its Karen Allen drinking a sherpa under the table, its the melted faces and exploding heads. Its all these things plus having the good fortune of seeing this at the cinema at a very young age, therefore watching most of it through my terrified fingers. (Indy tells Marion to keep her eyes shut during the cosmic spooky ending; way ahead of you there!)

The modern blockbuster as we know it was created by Steven Spielberg with Jaws and George Lucas with Star Wars, so the hype was unmatched when the two collaborated in 1981 with Raiders of the Lost Ark. As a kid I had no idea this was a loving homage to cliffhanger serials from the 30s and 40s, I took it as pure adventure. The seven-and-a-half minute desert truck chase (I dont know, Im making thus up as I go) is probably the best action sequence in all of cinema (John Woos Hard Boiled does not have a horse, sorry), but watching as an adult one notices a lot of sophisticated humor, too. (Indy being too exhausted to make love to Marion, for example, is something that didnt connect when I was six.)

Its strange to think I watched these cartoon Nazis on VHS with my grandparents who had escaped the Holocaust, and no one benefits when you do the math to figure out how young Marion was when, as Indy puts it, you knew what you were doing. But for thrills, laughs and propulsive camerawork (though a little mild Orientalism), nothing tops this one. JH

Independence Day (1996)

Photograph: Everett/REX/Shutterstock

Short of actually calling their film Summer Blockbuster, rarely can a films height-of-summer release date been so central to a films raison detre. This being the mid-90s, when po-mo and self-referentiality was all the rage, brazenly hooking your tentpole film to 4 July was seen as a pretty smart idea.

Fortunately, all the ducks did line up in a row for ID4: a game-changing performance from Will Smith, Jeff Goldblum at (arguably) his funniest, a rousingly Clintoneque president in Bill Pullman and most importantly in that run-up to the millennium physical destruction on a gigantic scale. Much comment at the time was expended on the laser obliteration of the White House (an early shot from the Tea Party/Maga crowd?), but I personally cherish director Roland Emmerichs signature move of detonating cars in somersault formation. Like many other huge-budget films then and since, Independence Day was basically a tooled-up retread of cheap-as-chips format of earlier decades though who these days would roll such expensive dice on what is essentially an original script, with no comic book or toy branding as a forerunner? We shall never see its like again. AP

Aliens (1986)

Photograph: Allstar/20 CENTURY FOX/Sportsphoto Ltd./Allstar

An Aliens summer is one for moviegoers who prefer to sit in in darkened rooms when the sun is shining; the brutal confines of the fiery power plant make an excellent subliminal ad for air conditioning. In 1986, James Cameron took Ridley Scotts elegant, iconic horror template and turned it into an all-out action blockbuster, forcing Ripley once again to face down her nemeses in a breathless fug of claustrophobia, sweat and fear. Its relentlessly stressful and unbelievably thrilling.

I first saw Aliens many years after its initial release. Owing to its sizeable and long-lasting legacy, it was at once immediately familiar, yet also brisk and brutally fresh. I understood that it was a classic, but I wasnt prepared for just how good it is, for the pitch-perfect management of tension, the pace that never really lets up, the emotional pull. The maternal undertow of Ripleys protection of Newt, and the alien mirror of that, adds a level of heart unusual in most blockbusters, and her frustration at being a woman whose authority must be earned again and again, and then proven again and again, remains grimly relevant, 30 years on. Its also a total blast. Now get away from her, you bitch. RN

Jaws (1975)

Photograph: Fotos International/Getty Images

It is the great summer blockbuster ancestor the film that in 1975 more or less invented the concept of the event movie. And unlike all those other summer blockbusters, Steven Spielbergs Jaws is actually about the summer; it is explicitly about the institution of the summer vacation, into which the movie was being sold as part of the seasonal entertainment. It is about the sun, the sand, the beach, the ocean and the entirely justified fear of being eaten alive by an enormous shark with the appetite of a serial killer and the cunning of a U-boat commander. And more than that: it is about that most contemporary of political phenomena: the coverup, the town authorities at a seaside resort putting vacationers at risk by not warning them about the shark. The Jaws mayor has become comic shorthand for the craven and pusillanimous politician.

A blockbuster nowadays means spectacular digital effects, but this film is from an analogue world. It bust the block through brilliant film-making and an inspired score from John Williams, summoning up the shark with a simple two-note theme which became the most famous musical expression of evil since Bernard Herrmanns shrieking violin stabs in Psycho took the place of actual knife-slashing. I still remember the excitement of the summer of 1975, and the queues around the block at the Empire, in Watford, round the corner from the football ground. The inspired brevity of the title meant the word was repeated over and over again to fill the marquee display: JAWS JAWS JAWS as if they were screaming it! PB

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