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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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Firestorm Part 11: Never

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: happy friday, friendos, have some delightful fluff!

Start from the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

There was no rush of the wind outside your room and no shining of the sun to naturally wake you. Nothing but the pitch black with the exception of the final embers of the lantern on your desk needing a refill, casting haunting shadows along the opposite wall. Liu Kang’s strong and comforting arms were still wrapped around you, having kept you firmly in place for the night. They were the best thing about waking up in your new space.

Settling against him you felt his arms pull you tighter unconsciously and couldn’t hide your delight. Mentally this was crossed off of your bucket list- a thing you had never known you’d wanted. Waking up in the arms of someone you trusted with your whole heart.

Nothing could hurt you when you were like that.

What time was it? You had no idea. Time seemed to stand still.

You’d need a clock.

And more rest.

That was what you really needed. Maybe time didn’t matter. Kung Lao would eventually make his way to you when he was ready to go into the city but that was for another day. You were sure he’d stop by at some point that day anyway.

You still thought it was silly to go to the city when you were going to Korea soon enough but if things continued the way that they were with Liu Kang then it would become pretty non-optional. For some reason that didn’t worry you the way it had before.

Everything was still and quiet.

Your appreciation for the quiet and peace of being in Liu Kang’s arms was immense. His sleepy breaths on your shoulder went from deep and slow to shorter and more normal. Those arms pulled you closer with purpose and just the tip of his nose brushed against your shoulder. He was waking up. You smiled. It felt nice to smile over something so simple. Things had become so complicated since you’d arrived at the Temple that simple seemed unprecedented.

Maybe things would be okay.

You had Liu Kang and your undefined whatever-this-was.

He, Kung Lao, Chen, and Raiden had become your family. It was more than you’d had before your world had turned upside down. You were grateful to be in Raiden’s Temple. Even with all the complications this was exactly where you were meant to be. It was the only place that could keep you safe and others safe from you.

“You okay?” You barely made out his words with how buried against you he was in his exhaustion. You were surprised that he wasn’t already up and about and going about his day. It felt nice to be important enough to be held.

“I’m fine, Liu.” Your voice came out as sleepy as his. This week had been a doozy. He adjusted behind you, arms slipping from around you. Then he urged you to lay on your back and leaned over you. You’d been here before. It was a familiar nostalgia that gave you butterflies.

Chen had interrupted you that morning. He’d begged you to ignore the knock but there had been no choice. There would be no more interruptions, at least not today. Face imprinted with the folds in your sheets and the lines of your hair, his sleepy eyes trailed over your features, making you feel like the only thing that mattered. You placed your small hand on his cheek, brushing your fingertips along one of the scrapes near his eye. It was beginning to bruise.

No guilt. Liu Kang didn’t want you to feel guilty. He’d saved you. He’d chosen to save you. In return, you would take care of him.

“It’s fine.” His reassuring, sleepy voice made you smile. It was unlikely you would ever get used to Liu Kang being this in your personal space. It was an adrenaline rush of the most satisfying kind even in the softer moments. His breath on your skin, the warm touch of his hand as it engulfed your side even through your clothes. Overstimulation at its finest. “Your hand is trembling.” His lips barely brushed against your palm.

“Oh?” Face on fire, you laughed and then turned and buried yourself against the pillow beneath you. Liu Kang’s thumb barely brushed over your side, the tug of his thumb shifting the fabric of your hanfu.

“What is it?” Liu Kang seemed to try and read you but when you laughed and covered your face with one hand he suddenly understood. “…really?” He also seemed in disbelief.

“Could you just take the compliment?” You giggled against the pillow. He pulled your hand away from his cheek and then, not taking his gaze away from yours, he brought it close to his lips. Those dark eyes were hypnotizing. These moments stolen with Liu Kang made you feel like everything could be okay. You knew that it wasn’t as simple as it seemed but it was nice to think that it could be. Sleepy, tender kisses were left on the back of your knuckles and over the back of your hand. Shivers left goose bumps in a trail down your arms. “…you are definitely trying to kill me.”

“Quite the contrary.” Another tender kiss on the back of your hand before his palm was wrapped in yours. A brief moment of intimacy, just holding hands, passed before he urged your hand to rest against his chest. Steady beats of his heart rapped beneath your fingertips and his hand engulfed your shoulder as he tilted closer to you. His breath was warm on your cheek before his lips left a soft, careful kiss there. They lingered, brushing softly against your red cheeks as though they needed more. Tilting, you captured his lips in yours, feeling the perfect curve of them melding with yours. A shiver ran down your spine and you felt his lips curl into a subtle smile, a smile because of you.

No more hesitation or worry if this was what he wanted and intended. You would kiss Liu Kang as often as you wanted.

Sleepy, soft kisses were the best medicine. They were the sweetest medicine. Careful fingers traversed down your jaw and over your neck as he kissed you deeper, each move carefully thought out as though you were something worthy of devotion. Every soft brush of his bruised lower lip made you melt. The stress of all other things faded. Liu Kang was very much like a drug. Your own personal high.

Broken skin caught against your lower lip and he stopped, remaining against your lips at a standstill. Then he pulled just enough away to breathe. Your eyes fluttered back open and you caught his admiring your lips as if you were his drug too, as if kissing you gave him the same kind of high. You urged your fingers over his chest to feel his heart beating. Sure enough it mimicked the beating of yours in a race to see whose was the fastest. You were winning.

“Do you need to leave?” You weren’t quite sure how your mind was still capable of forming proper words after that sweet kiss. Your lips asked the question without so much as permission from your brain. That was fine with you. At least part of you was still capable of functioning when in his haze.

“Do you want me to?” That sly smile. Liu Kang was such a flirt, a thing that surprised you to no end.

“…never.”

He melted. You could see the shift in his body, the way that his gaze changed. Something about that had gotten to him.

“One of the very first things you told me was that you didn’t care for that word, Y/N. Have you changed your mind?”

He remembered that?

That moment where you had first babbled about your life to him without having known him for more than a few seconds? You’d been terrified and he’d been a beacon of security and comfort. He’d been comforting you since those first moments. You still remembered the way he’d smiled when you’d nearly attacked him.

“I think some exceptions are worth making.”

The hand at your side slipped beneath you and his lips found yours with such passion that your body shrunk further into the bed. It was impossible not to laugh against his lips while you wrapped an exhausted arm around his shoulders. The soreness from the day before was remarkable. Rest was what you needed but this was the best therapy you could come up with.

Impassioned, deep kisses made you whimper. You could barely breathe from the heat of sleepy Liu Kang. The weight of his body atop yours, his hand at your back pulling that hanfu tight- it was suffocating and wonderful. Your body tensed, your heart rate spiking, your breathing short. His was short too and his kisses were feverish. It took all of your strength to keep up with his kisses and you were more than happy to give it. The prize was more than worth it.

A deep groan rattled from him and sent shivers through you. You laughed in surprise as his lips pulled from yours and left heated kisses over your jaw, up to your ear where you could feel his breath in full force and then leaving soft, wet trails down the side of your neck. He hesitated, holding you close, your back arched just enough into his touch. There was a war of self-control waging in his head.

“Y/N…” The breath of your name against your neck sent more shivers down your spine. He held you a little tighter. Soft and broken lips scraped against the side of your neck. With a shaky hand, you urged your fingers through his hair. He leaned back with your touch and then caught your gaze. You were weak at that suddenly familiar need. Something you’d seen in Liu Kang many times but hadn’t known what it was until he’d lifted you up and made love to you that night.

But you needed to talk.

You had to slow down despite how you desperately didn’t want to. That haze made it so easy to forget the important and responsible things. A need you’d put off for so long and was tremendous. His lips met the side of your neck and you made a soft sound of surprise. Liu’s laugh against you melted into a deep groan and you shivered from head to toe. His fingers tangled in the sash keeping your hanfu tied together, loosening it, and then pulling it free. You laughed in surprise. “Liu…”

Another groan as he lifted his body just enough for his hands to slip beneath the folds of your clothing and brush over your bare midriff. You shivered beneath his touch and then gasped for breath and leaned your head back.

“Liu, okay, hold on…” It took so much willpower to stop him and he did exactly that. He lifted his head from where he had been kissing over your neck and searched your gaze. There was a mixture of lust and confusion in those eyes.

“…what’s wrong? Did… too much?” He closed his eyes tight briefly as if his brain was not quite communicating with his mouth.

“No, no… it’s not that.” Your face was red and hot. There were obvious things to point out and he rested his head briefly on your shoulder to catch his breath. You weren’t sure that it had even occurred to him. It hadn’t occurred to you until afterward either. Thinking about it now with his hands on your bare flesh and him having made you almost instantly naked was practically torture. But with your body shutting down you were terrified of pregnancy. Not that the idea of eventually having something like that with Liu Kang was unappealing but rather because it was such a difficult experience for the human body. And your body was already going through something difficult.

You were too broken.

The sudden mental image of an adorable child with your mixed features was doing nothing for your already red face.

“What is it, Y/N?” Liu Kang was taking purposeful controlled breaths, hand resting at your bare side, thumb caressing against the scarring there.

“We uh… before we… uh…” You laughed and then chided yourself for not just saying it. You were a grown-ass-adult but Liu Kang had those big eyes on you without so much as a clue. “If we are going to continue doing this then we…”

“Sex?” Liu Kang said the word and you immediately burst into laughter.

“Yeah, that.”

“Afraid to say it?”

“No. We’ve just… done a lot of not saying things directly… like at all.”

“Perhaps we should consider being more direct. It’s healthy to talk about these things… probably.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. Okay so… I would prefer not to be pregnant.” You felt the weight of that worry disappear from your shoulders. There it was, out in the world and it seemed like a much less worrisome thing as you’d said it. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The realization washed over Liu Kang and he pursed his lips and then practically inhaled them before burying his face against your shoulder. He stayed there longer than you expected so you brushed your hand shakily over the back of his neck. “…Liu?”

“Why didn’t I consider that? I… usually consider everything.” Liu Kang lifted from your shoulder and his face was red and hot. He was embarrassed and it was kind of adorable. “To a fault at times.”

“Maybe it’s okay not to have thought of everything. I certainly didn’t.”

“You’re not furious? You could be… even now…”

“I…” You weren’t sure how to express what was in your head without the tone shifting. Your body wasn’t cooperating. It was too sick. Too weak. But if there was even a chance that you could then you had to consider it. Being pregnant would be a disaster. “I didn’t think about it either. When a guy like you comes into my room and lifts me up in his arms and insists upon making love to me? I uh… can honestly say that contraception didn’t cross my mind until afterward.”

“…a guy like me?”

“We’ve been through this.” You gestured to him. “You are incredibly attractive like… carved from my dreams attractive.” Tapping your fingers over his shoulder, you traced down to where his muscles met. He chuckled and it was the sweetest sound, like he thought you were being ridiculous. You loved how oddly modest he was or how little he thought about himself. “Oh, and you know it. Don’t pretend that you don’t. Why else would it be that you are constantly stripping around me?”

“Sleeves are uncomfortable.” Liu Kang tried very hard to hide a smile and failed. “…but maybe I hoped it would do me some favors.”

“Uh huh. I decided a few weeks ago that you were a tease.”

“A tease?”

“Yep. Look at those abs. Just sitting there. All pressed up against me. You have no idea how afraid I was to touch you for so long!”

“Afraid? Y/N, please, touch whenever you want. It’s an invitation.” He smirked. You giggled and leaned your head back. He leaned to kiss over your neck again. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’ll touch all I want after we get you some condoms. And I get on some birth control.”

“Ugh.” Liu Kang leaned his head against your shoulder as if this were very disheartening. “…wait… is that why you’re going into the city?” Liu Kang snapped his attention to you in sudden worried realization. You nodded. “You know that’s going to be a nightmare, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll take care of the condoms. You take care of your end of it.”

“That will make it less mortifying.”

“Do you think that there’s a chance you could be already? Should we… do something about that? Can we do something about that?”

“I…” You knew that you should have a conversation with Chen about it but you also knew that would be terribly embarrassing. Either way this trip into the city was going to be a mess so you’d handle it later. “I’m sure there’s a chance. I’ll keep you posted.”

“If we need to go to a doctor outside of the Temple, we can do that.” Liu offered with a slight smile. “And if you need me to do anything then uh… just say the word. By the way? If you had just asked me then I would have taken you to the city.”

“I wasn’t sure when I would get to see you again. You’re always so busy.”

“I know. Never too busy for you.” His inflection on the word never left you shivering. “And today? I’m all yours.” He leaned to kiss your shoulder and then smiled against your skin. “Might have to take a quick trip to get something from the city though.” You swatted his shoulder with a laugh. It felt nice to joke with him over something that had been a strain only moments ago.

“Really? You can stick around?”

“I’ve been told to rest.” He seemed proud of that and you bit your lower lip. “I suppose I should thank you for that.”

“Oh, for putting you through hell?”

“It gave me a day off… to spend with you.”

“That’s so sweet that I think I threw up a little in my mouth.” You teased but felt him snuggle into your shoulder, his bare chest and stomach pressing against yours. The humor faded as he rested there, thumb rhythmically brushing over your bare side as if you had replaced those prayer beads that he’d once clung to. “It’ll be okay, Liu.”

“I know.” He turned his head to the side and you could feel his breath on your shoulder. “Someday I’ll take you away.”

“Hmm?”

“For a break. A real break.”

“Like… on a vacation?” You hadn’t meant to sound skeptical but you had.

“Yeah.” He lifted his head but looked significantly more tired than only moments ago. You would let him rest in your arms all day if he needed to. “This has been traumatic. You deserve a break. We deserve a break.”

“Liu, that’s very thoughtful but I…”

“Maybe Nagano… for the snow and the springs or… to the beach in Okinawa.” He smiled softly but the insistence behind his eyes made you feel guilty. He needed you to believe him. He needed you to believe that you had a future even if it was just a vacation.

“I’ll hold you to that, Liu.” You doubted that it would be safe for you to go anywhere casually at least with things progressing the way that they were. And you weren’t sure you’d make it much longer if that were the case. But Liu Kang made you want to believe it was true. He made you want to find the solution and keep fighting. He gave you the strength you wouldn’t have had otherwise. “Those both sound really nice.”

“Then we’ll do both.” He smiled and the softness behind his eyes was reassuring.

“Both sounds perfect.”

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peacefulwriter88 · 6 years

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Never Good Enough - Part 11

Sebastian Stan x WoC, Chris Evans x WoC

You randomly go on a blind date, set up by your friend Anthony, with Sebastian Stan. Due to the awkward interaction you are convinced that the date ends badly due to your cultural background.When you run into him years later, can he re-win your heart?

Warnings: M for Mature (18+, mentions of SMUT but not this chapter, language )

A/N: Sorry its been a while but i finally know the direction I have for this! I was stuck not going to lie but I hope you enjoy. As always, comments appreciated!

Read Part 10 here

He was charismatic, you would give him that. He had a way of interacting with interviewers and co-workers on the red carpet, navigating through his anxiety even though he was really uncomfortable. You realized that over time you had fallen for those deep baby blues of his, typically twinkling in either speculative amusement or deep thought, the way his plump lips formed words or the way he would bite down on them before answering a question.

You were drugged – hazed by the power he had over you.

You had made a decision. You knew you had been straddling the line of deciding but it had become far clearer after your conversation with Chris in your hotel room.

“I knew that Sebastian was into you,” Chris had said when you had admitted that you had slept with his co-worker the night before. Anyone who probably had an ounce of common sense would have kept that one small detail out from the guy that was trying to court them but you couldn’t lie to Chris. You wanted to be transparent and honest.

“I just thought after our little triste in my changing room that maybe…you had ended it.”

You had sighed as you sat beside him, shaking your head.

“I should have ended it.” You reach over and grab his hands, giving it a strong squeeze. “But…I don’t think that I thought it meant anything. Not that you would sleep with anyone but that we were just having fun.”

You frowned.

“It wasn’t fair. Honestly, I’ve probably been more than selfish in all of this.”

You’re embarrassed, keeping your eyes trained on Dodger who rests his head on your lap. You’re surprised at the soft chuckle that comes out of Chris mouth as he squeezes your hand.

“Yea. Just a tad. But so was I. So was Seb. We knew that we were putting you in a really uncomfortable position. Both in your professional life and also with making our interests known. If we’d all been a little less selfish, we could’ve sat down and talked through this a long time ago. Versus playing this game of trying to prove who is better.”

You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder and he places a kiss on your forehead. You’re consumed by his cologne, the fresh scent of his powdery soap that wafts off his skin, the warmth you’re surrounded in.

“But we’re here now. And….even though it really sucks, you’re going to have to choose. And whatever you choose, whoever you choose, is going to have to honor that. I want you to know that there’s no pressure either way. And I’m sure Seb would feel the same. We both respect you. You’re a special human, one of the few who really makes you do a double take. I’ll be around either way.”

The comment had caused you into another stream of tears, holding onto Chris until he dismissed himself from your room. Knowing that if he stayed any longer, he’d be doing himself a disservice in trying to persuade you into his arms.

It was what had led you here, drinking casually at the after party bar, away from the chaos and the noise. Away from the distractions even though both men were in your line of sight, both of them pulling at different parts of you in ways that scared your normally rational brain.

You knew there wasn’t a deadline in your deciding but, for your sanity, you had to. You had been playing the game of cat and mouse for far too long.

“What are you doing way over here by yourself?”

Chris had the kind of voice that was masculine, commanding but also soft and kind and it’s that familiar sound that has you jerking your head up to him, giving him a soft smile as you look up from your drink. You had been spinning the empty glass of vodka soda for what felt like hours, your hands shaking. You hadn’t slept for far too long, had been lost in the noise of your brain the night prior, knowing that you were going to hurt someone. Not completely trusting the choice but knowing it had to be made.

“Just needed some air,” you look over at him, the handsome way his suit fits his body and breathe through your noise. Clinging on to the familiarity of it all. “What are you doing over here?”

You give him a soft nudge as he sits beside you, smiling and shaking his head.

“Checking up on you. You’ve been sort of MIA all night. Quiet. A lot of people have been worried.”

You can’t help but laugh, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you look over at him.

“I think you might be exaggerating Evans.”

“I might be, just a tad,” he waves the bartender over, ordering a drink. “Can I also say that I heard from a little birdy that you will be composing your first full movie soundtrack.”

You raise an eyebrow in question, ordering another drink as you ask,

“Who told you that? Anthony? Christine?”

You’re genuinely confused as he shakes his head, waiting for your drinks to arrive before he takes a sip and replies,

“Actually I was talking to Henry.”

“Jackman? You know who Henry Jackman is?” You don’t mean your voice to be skeptical, don’t mean for it come as incredulous and he laughs as he nods.

“Yea, I don’t live under a rock! I directed a movie once I understand all the aspects of what it takes to create one. And you know, there’s this certain woman who’s captured my interest and also just so happens to also be into the business of composing music for movies and I might have been a wee curious to hear more of her stuff. I was talking to Henry and he only spoke highly of you. Says you have a true gift and he’s very excited to see what you come up with.”

The feeling was odd, the small stirring of something as simple as looking into something you were passionate about that made your breath shutter, your heart tighten. Only a few people knew about that, not even Anthony had been aware, and the fact that Chris sought it out for you makes you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Romance was complicated.

Complicated because it made you do stupid, stupid things.

“Henry is the best. What he did for the Winter Soldier soundtrack, honestly, it’s half the reason I went and saw it in theaters.”

“I thought it was because I was in it.” He winks at you, nudging you playfully and you laugh as you take another sip. And then you bite your lip, glancing away and you hear his heavy sigh, the way he shifts in his movements.

“You know, I have this friend back in Boston who does that same exact move when she has to tell me something bad.”

You flicker your eyes back to him and shake your head.

“What do you mean?”

He gives you a knowing look, his normal bright blues a stormy grey as he moves closer to you.

“You’re not a bull shitter Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

Heartbreak wasn’t foreign to Chris. In fact, it was why he was so mindful of the women he dated, the women he let in his life as he got older. He had recognized, thanks to the advice of his family and some reflection that he typically choose the wrong woman. That his heart was attracted to someone who would only inevitably break his heart.

So when he had laid eyes on you all those months in January, had drank in the way your hips had moved or the way you through your head back as you laughed or the way you had known a surprising amount of random historical facts or how connected you were in the business, he had been taking a back. You were intelligent, insightful but knew how to laugh at yourself and was humble. Had a silent confidence where you’d challenge people where it was necessary but otherwise kept it hidden, knowing it was necessary to flaunt. You were unique and beautiful and he wanted to get lost in you.

Thought he was on the path of making that happen.

But he had forgotten about Sebastian.

It wasn’t a surprise what you had told him in your hotel room. You knew that despite how much he had been trying to swoon you, Sebastian had probably been trying to do the same. Didn’t realize how much he had gotten under your skin like he had. Wanted to be mad and infuriated but knew he didn’t have the right to be.

You were single. Neither men had no claim over you. You were free to date whoever you wanted. And he hadn’t been transparent about his feelings. He had teased, prodded, poked around them but hadn’t been upfront. He knew that. He also knew that whatever choice you made, whatever it was, he would honor it.

Sitting beside you, watching the way you ease into him, he thinks he has a really good chance. Things are just so intuitively natural – the two of you being together. He wasn’t anxious thinking about his next thought or feeling like he had to be mindful of what he said. He feels worthy of you – can imagine hanging out at bars and watching games together or playing a really intense game of drunk scrabble you both have already re-invited for his next gathering or just lay in silence, being in the comfort of the other.

A natural fit.

But then your tone changes, your body languages shifts and he knows that his confidence may have been displaced.

“I’ve been thinking about…you know, this weird decision. Of who I want to date. It’s been a fucking doozy. Like trying to figure out what college you should go to but not knowing if you are even smart enough to make the right choice.”

He gives a laugh, deep and hearty as you turn to him. He could already feel it, sense it. Those bright, flirty big eyes that were normally swirling with amused mischief were twinkling with regret and compassion. He could see the confliction as you shook your head, returning to your drink.

“It’s ok…” he says it softly, barely audible as he places his hand on your thigh. “I get it. You both do have more history together.”

You can feel your breath rising and falling quickly, could sense the anxiety exuding off of you and he draws you closer as your voice breaks,

“I know all of that. I’ve made a lot of goddamn list about it. And I….I have to choose him. Because if I choose you, I don’t know if I wouldn’t be thinking about him. And Chris, if I ever have a chance with you in the future, I want to give 100% of who I am to you. I want you to have the person you are worthy of. I don’t want to be thinking about another man when I’m with you…”

The words are dull on his ears, only focusing on how soft your skin is against his hands. How the scent of your faint shampoo – like the jojoba oil he rubs in his beard – mingles with the powdery, musky scent of your perfume. Wants to memorize the husky sound of your voice, even broken and tinged with sadness and the way you grip at him. Wants to be able to grasp at the way his lips feel on your forehead when he thinks about you at night for the lonely months ahead, when he’ll be staring at his ceiling thinking back on all the things that made up you.

Has to erase the fear that barrels at his soul, the knowledge that he wasn’t good enough for someone again, that he might not be able to have the life that he had always fantasized in his head. Had to combat the anxiety that was gripping around his heart as his eyes fill with thick fat tears, falling on top of your head and the way you cling onto him harder, drawing him closer to him as if you knew what his heart was echoing.

The desperation of needing you. The knowledge that you probably had never been his to begin with. The fear that he doesn’t know if he has the power to move on from you. The desire to find some way to make you his, to sell his soul in replacement for your love.

He’s spiraling into himself, into you, and he can’t stop.

Just hold you in his arms and allow the pain to consume you both.

The knock on Sebastian’s door drives his attention away from the bright L.A. sky, drawing him back to the faint sounds of the L.A. traffic, the laughter and commotion happening in the floors above him. He didn’t know how long he had been standing out on his balcony, watching a starless sky, his thoughts swimming with you.

He had lost you.

He didn’t know how to mourn something that he knew, truly, was never really his. Knew that he had paled in comparison to Chris – the man who was intelligent, handsome and funny. Knew that he was always falling up short – too preoccupied in his mind or too conscious of what others thought. Couldn’t stand on his own for far too long because of the insecurities he hadn’t shaken from childhood gripping his personality, shielding who he truly was.

It was probably for the best.

You deserved someone who was going to fight for you. Someone who could make you laugh and wasn’t afraid to challenge you and keep up with your wit. Someone who was confident in themselves and be proud to boast you in public.

He wasn’t too sure if he could be that for you. And you had sensed it, known it and did what he couldn’t blame you from doing.

Moved on.

He moves past his bed, where he’d abandon his suit jacket and moves to the door, looking through the peep hole surprised to find you standing on the other side. You had worn an elegant black dress to the last premiere in the standard style you had favored the past two months, and despite your eyes from being puffy from crying you looked as beautiful as you had the first time he had seen you.

You were going to be the death of him.

He opens the door, allowing the bright light from the hallway to infiltrate the dim lighting of his room, immediately being accosted by your scent as you look up at him, a soft smile on your lips.

“Mind if I come in? I want to talk to you about something.”

He should say no. Doesn’t know if he can handle rejection in his face. Hated confrontation when it didn’t work in his favor but he can’t say no to the way your bold eyes drink him in, your hand nervously ringing around each other.

“Of course you can come in. Come in.” he widens the door, giving you enough space to allow you to walk in and you brush past him, causing his breath to hitch.

The absolute death of him.

You glance around the room, softly smiling at the bed before you turn toward him, motioning at the balcony.

“Want to go outside and talk. It’s a really nice night for it.”

He nods, following you in silent agreement as you walk into the cool L.A. air. It’s dropped a couple of degrees from earlier and you hold yourself, rubbing your exposed arms up and down as you clear your throat, biting your lip in deep thought. Your skin is peppered with goosebumps from the juxtaposition of cool and hot air, and he turns back on his heels, throwing over his shoulder,

“Let me grab my jacket. It’s cooled down from earlier…”

He’s back quickly, his suit jacket in tow as he throws it over your shoulder and rubs your arms. You give him a grateful smile, falling back into him before your voice is cutting through the air,

“Seb – I need to be honest with you about something.”

His jaw clenches, eyes looking beyond your own as he takes in the city of L.A. He didn’t do well with confrontation, was worse with rejection and he wants to pull away, wants to beg you to text him what he already knows. Even though he deserves it, especially coming from you, he’s too cowardly to confront it and that shames him.

“Seb,” you repeat, gently place your hand on his chin, drawing him to look down at you, “I want you to know all of it before you decide. Because I made this decision but it’s not just my own. I want to make sure that you know all of the facts before you make your own.”

He watches you, his eyes concentrated on your own as you shakily start off,

“You know, I’ve been talking to Chris as much as you. This whole time on the tour since I’ve been here. Honestly, I didn’t think much of it. From him or you. Thought you both were just using that natural, flirty charm on me like everyone else. I also was really fucking mad at you still. You were a jerk. You already know this, no need to repeat but yea. I had a lot pushing me away from you. But…..”

You hesitate as you bite your lip, falling back against the rail.

“You’re kind of this wonderful dork, you know that. You kind of make me smile and laugh and I’m not afraid to be a complete nerd around you. Maybe you make me feel a little special, all that mushy stuff that they say at times like this in rom coms from the 90s.”

He can’t help but laugh, not realizing he’s been holding his breath as you lean into him.

“I….I really like you Sebastian. I don’t know what that means for us and our future but I want you to know that I like you. And it’s no more games. No more you or Chris. I choose you. I want you.”

You place both of your hands on his chest, your eyes flickering back at him.

His heart is beating a thousand pounds a minute, he’s sure under the warmth of your palms. He brushes a stray strand of your hair out of your eyes, draws you closer to him and mutters,

“I’ve always been yours.”

You close your eyes, your head naturally lifting as he licks his lips, before pressing them against your own. You’re warm, intoxicating as you kiss him back fervently, your mouth coaxing his open and he moans into the kiss, his hand biting into your hips as you pull him closer to you. When you pull away he mumbles against your lips,

“I thought you were going to tell me you choose Chris.”

You laugh, shaking your head and placing it on his chest.

“No. I told him that I choose you. I’m yours.”

There’s something comforting in the way you say it, the way you fall into him as you wrap your arms around his waist. He rests his head on top of your head, drawing circles blindly on your back. He tries to ignore the image of you and Chris in the hidden bar, the way you clung onto each other as he tried to watch from the shadows. Tried to push away the insecurity that was building in his gut because here you were, letting him know how you felt. That you wanted him.

“So would it be too soon to ask you out on another date?” he asks, breaking the silence and you laugh, placing your chin on his chest.

“I mean, if you ask then you shall receive.”

He chuckles, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“You don’t know what you just got yourself into.”

A/N: I knoooooowww. I know I know. But there will be 20 parts of this so hold on. We’re like getting halfway there with this thing.

Tag List: @xgminigypsy @zohoffman @ssweet-empowerment@capsofwinchesters@tacohead13@harleycativy@pietrotheavenger@francezka10@papichulosebastian@obsessionsofmynerdheart@melaninmarvel@avengedqueen26@nasteaxluvgal@winterbuttmunch @nys30 @buckyslongasshair@badassbaker @ohlumi@wellthirsted @supernovasandcoronas

TAGS ARE OPEN!!!

If I missed anyone I am the laziest at tagging people so I do deeply sincerely apologize!

#Sebastian Stan #Chris Evans #sebastian stan x woc #sebastian stan x plus size reader #chris evans x person of color #chris evans x plus size reader

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thelastspeecher · 7 years

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Stan Pines, Farmhand - Chapter 13: Everything’s Going to Be Okay

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 AO3

As promised, here is the next chapter of “Stan Pines, Farmhand” and boy, is it a doozy. Pretty damn long (4042 words) and almost nonstop angst. Really intense. In this chapter, shit hits the fan and Stan gets caught in the middle of it. Enjoy.

November 29, 1981

Stan Pines had walked in on his fair share of things he never wanted to see. But this was probably the worst. Seeing his brother-in-law holding some sort of weird futuristic gun to his twin’s head easily topped the time his parents had decided to get it on the same night he had a bad dream.

“Fidds, what the hell are ya doin’?” Stan demanded, stepping forward and knocking the gun out of Fiddleford’s hand. Ford collapsed to the ground, seemingly unconscious.

“I- I-” Fiddleford stammered, tugging on his hair, which Stan suddenly realized had been thinning.

“What does this thing even do?” Stan asked. He picked up the strange-looking gun. Fiddleford looked away, ashamed.

“It erases memories.”

“Wait, you were erasin’ Ford’s memories?”

Please let me have heard wrong.

“Yes. But only one memory! He- he saw somethin’ he shouldn’t have seen.” Stan stared at Fiddleford, disgusted.

“So ya decided to make him forget?”

“…Yes.”

“Good God, Fidds,” Stan said, flabbergasted. “Why? Why would ya even make somethin’ like this?”

“I needed it. I- I couldn’t sleep at night. I was haunted by everythin’ what I’ve seen here in Gravity Falls.”

“So you jumped right to some dystopian nightmare shit? That’s gotta be an overreaction, Fiddleford.”

“I know! I know! I shouldn’t have done it. But when I started, I couldn’t stop,” Fiddleford said, tearing up. “An’ then people saw things they shouldn’t have, so I- I made them forget, too.” Stan took a steadying breath.

“How many people?” he asked.

“Too many,” Fiddleford whimpered.

“Includin’ Ford?”

“Includin’ Ford.”

“Did ya wipe my memory?”

“No!” Stan had a sudden flashback to a couple days ago. Angie’d had a mental breakdown because she couldn’t remember something, something she insisted was important.

“Angie?” Fiddleford closed his eyes tightly and began to pull on his hair again. “Fiddleford, did you wipe your little sister’s memory?”

“I don’t recall!”

“You’re lying!” Stan shouted. Fiddleford broke into tears. He sat down heavily.

“Yer right! Yer right! I erased her memory. My- my baby sister.”

“Why? What did she see?”

“I don’t know! I can’t remember!” Fiddleford looked at Stan, his face red and tear-streaked. “I think I erased my memory after, so I couldn’t remember doin’ that to her.” He sobbed. “I’m s’posed to protect my fam’ly, my lil siblings. An’ I hurt her. I messed with her mind.” Stan sat down next to Fiddleford.

“Do ya ‘member how she reacted?” Fiddleford nodded, but Stan replayed the events anyways. “She almost lost her damn mind ‘cause she couldn’t remember somethin’. Angie was terrified, ‘cause mental fragility runs in you guys’ family. And Thistlebert, the same cousin what married a hog, started life normal. He only started to fall apart after his memory went.” Fiddleford sobbed again. “Angie was scared that she was startin’ to do it too. It took forever to calm her down. And she started writin’ everything down, so she wouldn’t forget. She’s obsessing over it, Fidds. Even though she hasn’t forgotten anything since, she’s still paranoid to the point that I catch her sittin’ still, frozen, if she can’t remember something right off the bat.”

“She wasn’t s’posed to react that way,” Fiddleford said weakly. “Ford never did.”

“Ford and I don’t have the same fam’ly history as you and Angie,” Stan said. He looked at the gun in his hands. “Which is why I’m takin’ this away from ya.”

“What? No! I need it!”

“No, you don’t!” Stan snapped. “All you’re doin’ with it is runnin’ away from the truth. You’re hurtin’ yourself and hurtin’ others.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Look,” he said, opening his eyes again, “I understand. I understand that ya want to forget the awful things we’ve seen. But this won’t make things better. You’re a mess, Fidds. Look at what ya did to Angie and Ford. Look at what ya did to yourself. I won’t let you take this back.” Stan swallowed, a chill suddenly running through his body. “I don’t want this thing anywhere near my kids.”

“I would never-”

“Never what? Never use it on fam’ly? Never use it on folks younger than you? Never use it on the people you love? Bullshit! You did all of those things!” Stan stood, grabbed Fiddleford more roughly than he should have, and pulled up his brother-in-law. “You’re comin’ clean, and you’re gonna stop usin’ this thing.”

“I can’t,” Fiddleford sobbed. Stan saw it then.

He’s a junkie. He was still furious, but he knew that this wasn’t the way to handle things. Yelling has its limits, and Fiddleford was too fragile to respond positively to anything more than a moderately stern tone.

“Hey,” Stan said more gently. He put a hand on Fiddleford’s shoulder. “You can. And you will. If not for yourself, for Ford, and Angie, and me, and the girls. And your son.” Fiddleford wiped away his tears.

“I don’t think I can.”

“Don’t matter. You will.” He pulled Fiddleford into a hug. “Everything’ll be okay. Everything’ll be fine.”

-----

January 6, 1982

“Angie, could I ask you something?” Angie looked over.

“Oh, hey Ford. I was just checkin’ on the kids. Sorry they fell asleep durin’ this visit. Their nap schedule musta been messed up somehow. Thanks again fer pullin’ out the air mattresses.”

“It’s no problem.” Angie closed the door to the room the children were napping in.

“So what’s goin’ on?”

“I need your opinion on something.” Ford handed her the stack of papers he had just printed off. “These are the preliminary results for the project Fiddleford and I have been working on.”

“Stanford, I ain’t a physicist,” Angie said, skimming the papers. “I’m a biologist.”

“I know, but I still wanted your thoughts,” Ford said. Angie pursed her lips.

“I’m inclined to think that ya should not turn on that there machine of yours,” she said after a few moments.

“What makes you say that?” Ford asked. He wanted to yell at her, asking what she would know about all this.

But she already admitted this isn’t her area of expertise.

“I may not be good with technology, but I know how numbers work. And these numbers ain’t good.” She pointed at one of the pieces of paper, which had a large graph on it. “An’ I’m pretty sure that line should go up, not down.”

“…You are correct,” Ford conceded. Angie flipped through the papers one more time, before sighing.

“Look, I do think ya need more than just the opinion of yer boyfriend and a biologist. I have a coupla friends from West Coast Tech who were in the physics department. I can ask ‘em what they think, if ya want. I’ll give ‘em minimal data, so they can’t steal any of it.”

“Would you really be willing to do that?” Ford asked. Angie nodded.

“‘Course! Now, while I contact ‘em, ya should hold off turnin’ it on, okay?” Angie handed the papers back to him and turned around. “That’s basic science, but it don’t hurt to remind people every now and-” Before she could finish her sentence, Ford blacked out.

-----

In the living room, Stan was having a hushed conversation with Fiddleford.

“I agree, Fidds. Ford hasn’t really been actin’ like himself that much,” Stan said quietly. Fiddleford’s knee bounced nervously.

“It’s makin’ me worried. What if he’s usin’ drugs?”

“I can snoop around, see if I can find-” Stan was cut off by a series of thuds, like something had fallen down a flight of stairs. “What was that?”

“Angie!” Fiddleford and Stan both jumped to their feet at Ford’s shout. Stan beat Fiddleford to the stairs by a few seconds. He dropped to his knees next to Angie. She was laying on the floor, spread-eagled. Her left arm was in an unnatural position and he could see crimson liquid pooling behind her head.

“Oh, no,” he whispered. Ford thundered down the stairs to join Fiddleford and Stan. Fiddleford was already taking her pulse.

“It’s faint,” Fiddleford said, “but it’s there. She’s alive.” Stan picked up Angie and stood.

She feels smaller than usual.

“Ford, what happened?”

“I- I don’t know. I turned around for a second, and then she was suddenly falling down the stairs.” Fiddleford stood as well and tucked a strand of hair behind one of Angie’s ears.

“Ford, watch over the kids while Stan and I take her to the ER.” Ford nodded. Stan may have been imagining it, but something about Ford’s eyes seemed…off.

He’s probably just freaked out. I definitely have the crazy eyes, too.

-----

January 11, 1982

Stan stood at his front door, getting ready to head out. He began to search for his shoes, mentally laying out what he was going to yell at his twin.

God, Ford is gonna get it. I have no clue what the fuck he said to make Fidds leave like that. I can’t think of anything that would piss off Fidds enough to disappear and abandon his son. Dammit, Ford, I shouldn’t have had to have Tate stay overnight. But you were a hell of a hot mess. Sixer, ya better have a good reason for all of this.

“Uncle Stan? Where are you goin’?” At the sound of an inquisitive voice, Stan turned. Tate was standing in front of him, twisting his hands nervously.

“I’m gonna go talk to your dad, and look for yer pa,” Stan replied, zipping up his coat. Tate blinked.

“But there’s no one else here.”

“I know. Can ya watch your cousins for a lil bit?” Stan asked. Tate looked over at the girls. Danny was sleeping on the couch, while Daisy climbed all over it. Daisy fell off with a small squeak. The resulting thump woke up her sister, who started to cry.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tate said quietly. Stan swallowed. He put his car keys back on the hook.

“Yer right,” he replied, patting his nephew on the shoulder. He walked over to Danny and picked up her up, making shushing noises in an attempt to calm her down. “It’s okay, everything��s fine,” he said softly. Danny sniffled. “It was just Daisy fallin’ off the couch, she does that all the time.”

“I- I miss Ma,” Danny said piteously as she clung to his shirt. Stan tried to not let his heartbreak be visible.

“Me too, sweetheart. But it’ll be okay. She’ll wake up soon.”

I hope.

“Uncle Stan, when can I go home?” Tate asked, tugging at his shirt. “Pa wanted to go fishin’ today.”

“Tate, I-”

“I’m hungry,” Daisy whined. She had resumed climbing on the couch.

She looks like she could fall off again. God, if she hurts herself…

“Get down, junebug.”

“No. I want foods.”

“Okay, I’ll make somethin’. Whattaya want?” Stan asked desperately. He tried to fight down the sensation that he was drowning.

“Corn stuff,” Daisy replied. Stan’s heart sunk. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and it was a recipe Angie had refused to teach him.

“It’s passed down in my fam’ly from mother to daughter.” Stan tried to ignore the thought that wondered if Angie would be able to pass the recipe down to Danny and Daisy.

“I don’t know how to make that.”

“Pa does,” Tate said.

“He’s…not around.”

“What? Where is he?” Tate asked. Stan swallowed and set down Danny.

“Gimme a sec, okay? I’m gonna go make a call.” Stan walked over to the phone in the kitchen. He dialed in the number without thinking, relying on muscle memory.

I can’t watch all these kids on my own. I can’t take care of ‘em. He hesitated before punching in the last digit. I need help.

The phone was picked up on the second ring.

“McGucket residence, Sally speakin’.”

-----

January 13, 1982

Stan paced nervously by the front door, obsessively checking his watch.

Lute shoulda been here by now. As if on cue, there was a knock. Stan opened the door.

“Hey, brother,” Lute said cheerfully. He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, where’s those cute lil nieces and nephew of mine?”

“Watchin’ TV,” Stan said. He turned. “Kids, get yer stuff! Yer Uncle Lute’s here!”

“‘Kay!” Tate shouted. Stan could hear his nephew helping the girls get ready. He turned to Lute again.

“How was the drive?”

“Not too bad. Could have been worse.”

“Ah.”

“Ma ‘n Pa are lookin’ forward to spendin’ some time with their grandbabies. They don’t get to see Tate and the girls all that often.”

“Yeah, Oregon’s pretty far away from Arkansas.”

“We’re almost ready, just gettin’ shoes on!” Tate called.

“Got it!” Stan replied. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me how Angie’s doin’,” he said to Lute.

“Well, uh, I actually stopped by the hospital on my way in, to see her. That’s why I’m a bit late.” Lute sighed. His cheerful façade slipped away, replaced by a worry that Stan had never seen in him before. “It- it ain’t right, what happened,” he said quietly. “Why’d she get hurt so bad if she only fell?”

“I dunno,” Stan said, in an equally soft tone.

“An’ no word from Fidds?”

“Nothin’.”

“An’ Ford is?”

“Havin’ some sort of breakdown or episode or somethin’. I’m gonna go see him in a coupla days.”

“Good. Talk some sense into him.” Lute paused. He ran a hand through his hair. “Look…Stan…don’t be upset ‘bout all of this.”

“What?”

“Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed or anythin’ like that, that ya had to get help. That’s what fam’ly’s for. To help out when the chips ‘re down.” He put his hands on Stan’s shoulders. “Yer doin’ the right thing. Ya ain’t a failure as a dad, or an uncle, or a husband, or a brother.” Stan looked away.

“Geez, Lute, what makes ya think I feel like that?”

“‘Cause I know ya, brother. I know yer goin’ to blame yourself. Don’t do that. Anyways, things’ll get better. Angie’ll pull through, Fidds’ll show up, Ford’ll come to his senses.”

“What if they don’t?” Stan asked. He tried to ignore the way his voice broke. Lute hugged Stan tightly.

“They will,” Lute replied firmly. “Trust me. In a month, everything’ll be back to normal. Fidds and Tate can go on fishin’ trips, you’ll spend time with yer daughters and Angie, and Ford’ll continue to do his weird research. The girls and Tate are just goin’ to think that this is a fun vacation with their grandparents and Uncle Lute.” Stan nodded, fighting back tears.

“Y’all should probably go,” he said. “It’s a long ride back to Gumption, especially with two toddlers and a child.” Lute grimaced.

“At least Tate’s well-behaved.”

“Don’t worry, the girls more than make up for his good behavior.” Lute cracked a small smile. He looked over Stan’s shoulder.

“Howdy, kidlets. Y’all ready to spend some time with Uncle Lute, Gran, and Gramps?” Stan looked at the kids. Daisy seemed fairly oblivious as to the situation, bouncing on her toes excitedly. Danny and Tate, on the other hand, were acting like they were headed to a funeral.

Not the best analogy right now, Stan.

“You kids be good fer ‘em, okay?” Stan said. Danny rushed forward and hugged one of his legs.

“Don’t wan’ go,” she mumbled. Stan knelt down.

“I know, sweetheart. But ya have to. It’ll be good for ya to spend some time with Gran and Gramps. And yer Uncle Lute, too!” Danny squeezed him harder. Daisy dropped her bag and joined her twin in embracing Stan. Stan sniffed. He wouldn’t be able to pretend he was fine much longer. “I’ll miss ya, girls,” he said quietly. His daughters hugged him tighter. He kissed the tops of their heads and stood. “Now, go on and get in Uncle Lute’s truck. He’s probably got snacks and tunes fer ya.” Tate exited somberly, closely followed by Danny and Daisy. The girls turned around to wave before stepping outside.

“Bye, Daddy,” Danny said solemnly. Stan waved back.

“Bye, sweetheart.” Daisy pulled Danny outside. Lute hugged Stan again.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of ‘em.”

“I know.”

“You talk to Ford. Everything’ll be fine, brother.” Stan smiled weakly.

“Don’t know if I believe that. But…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” With another worried look cast his way, Lute followed the children outside. Stan slowly closed the front door, then slid down it, not bothering to hold back his tears anymore.

-----

January 17, 1982

Stan brushed off the snowflakes that had built up on his jacket.

A fuckin’ snowstorm the day I finally go to talk to Ford. Figures. He stomped on the porch, shaking the snow off his boots, then knocked on the door. The door opened immediately, with such force that Stan took an instinctive step backward.

“Who is it?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!” Ford raved, aiming a crossbow directly at Stan’s chest. Stan stared at his twin.

“Ya don’t look good, Ford,” he said mildly. Ford blinked.

“…Stanley.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Ford lowered the crossbow and seemed to attempt to mentally collect himself. But he couldn’t get rid of the crazed glint in his eyes, the way his clothes seemed to hang on his frame, or his completely disheveled appearance. “Look, I came to talk to ya. I haven’t heard from ya in over a week. Not since Fidds disappeared.”

“Fiddleford,” Ford mumbled.

“Yeah. Him. Look, are ya gonna let me in or not?”

“Right, right,” Ford said, standing to the side so that Stan could walk in. He cleared his throat. “How is Angie doing?”

“Still comatose,” Stan replied. “Doc says she should wake up soon, though. She’s showing the right brain activity or whatever.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Stan took a breath. “But I don’t know how reliable that doctor is. He keeps insistin’ that Angie had to have been pushed, that her injuries aren’t ‘consistent with a mere fall’.” He looked over at Ford. Ford had a distinctly guilty expression. “What is it?”

“She was pushed, Stan.”

“Wait, what? How- how do ya know that? Who-”

“It was me. I pushed her.” Stan stared at his twin, too shocked to say anything at first. Then it clicked.

“What?!” He grabbed Ford’s shirt. “Stanford, there’s no way yer tellin’ me that ya put my wife, the mother of my children, yer own sister-in-law, in a fuckin’ coma.”

“I didn’t! The demon possessing my body did!”

“The demon- what the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means exactly what it means! A demon took over my body and pushed Angie down the stairs.” Stan let go of Ford’s shirt and stared at his twin with disgust.

“What have ya gotten mixed up in, Sixer?” he asked. Ford took a shaky breath.

“Nothing good.”

“Yeah, usually demons aren’t a good fuckin’ thing.”

“I- I know. And, actually, I was about to call you.”

“Why?”

“I need to show you something.”

“Does it have to do with yer odd behavior and this whole ‘demon possession’ thing you’re tryin’ to say happened?” Stan asked.

“Yes.”

“Fine, then. Lead the way.”

-----

A few minutes later, Stan and Ford stood in the basement.

“What the fuck is that?” Stan asked.

“It’s a transdimensional portal,” Ford said. “It’s the project Fiddleford and myself have been working on. Theoretically, it should enable people to travel to alternate realities. But in practice…” Stan looked at his twin, dread growing.

“What does it really do, Stanford?”

“This device is what made Fiddleford walk out. He couldn’t handle what he saw on the other side.” Ford took a deep breath. “He caught a glimpse of Bill’s dimension and lost his tenuous grasp of sanity.”

“Who the fuck is Bill?”

“The demon that I’ve been working with.”

“The same one that possessed ya and pushed Angie down the stairs?”

“Yes.”

“His name is Bill?”

“Yes. Look, Stanley, this machine, it’s far too dangerous to be used. I plan on dismantling it, though I haven’t done so yet, and in the meantime, I need your assistance in a very important task.” Stan eyed Ford suspiciously.

“What do ya want me to do?”

“Take this.” Ford handed Stan a thick book with a red cover, embossed with a golden six-fingered hand. “It’s my research. It contains the information necessary to build and run the portal. Take it, and leave.”

“…What?”

“Leave. Take the research as far away as you can. To the ends of the earth.”

“Ford, there’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna do that,” Stan said flatly.

“Please, Stanley, I’m begging you,” Ford said. “The future of the world is at stake!”

“I ain’t leavin’ Gravity Falls without my fam’ly.”

“Your family is asking you to do this.”

“Ford, yer not the only person I’m worried about,” Stan snapped. “Fidds is still missin’, Angie’s in a fuckin’ coma, and I can’t even watch over my kids ‘cause I’m dealin’ with your shit on top of all of it!”

“I-”

“And they’re your fam’ly, too! Have ya even thought about your son since Fidds left?” Ford’s facial expression broke.

“Tate…”

“He’s in Gumption with Sally and Mearl. And so are Danny and Daisy. Lute picked ‘em up a coupla days ago. You’re not the only person who’s in trouble or havin’ a rough time, Ford.”

“Stanley, I know how important your children are, but please, consider their safety over the safety of the world.”

“My fam’ly is my world, Sixer. Take your book back. I don’t want it. I don’t want your shit to follow me and hurt Angie or the girls. Not any more than it already has.” Stan shoved the book back at Ford.

“I can’t be trusted with it!” Ford said, throwing it back.

“Fine, then!” Stan shouted. He dug a lighter out of his pocket. “I’ll burn it. Then maybe we’ll be free of this witchcraft-bullshit-insanity ya drug all of us into.”

“No, Stanley, my research!” Ford said, trying the grab the book back from him.

“You gave me it, I’m gonna do what I want with it!” Stan ran from his twin, clicking the lighter. “C’mon, work, ya piece of shit.”

“No!” Stan was tackled to the ground by Ford. The book went flying out of his hands and into the control room. Stan shoved Ford off of him and raced toward the book. He picked it up, only to be shoved again by Ford, into the control panel. “Stanley, give it back!”

“Like hell I will!” Stan snarled over the hum that had begun as the machine started up. “This thing’s messin’ with yer mind, Sixer! It needs to be destroyed.”

“My years of work would be wasted!” Ford shouted, attempting to pull the book out of Stan’s grip. He kicked Stan in the chest, succeeding in pulling the book away. Stan landed against the side of the control panel. A blindingly hot pain bloomed on his shoulder. Stan screamed. Ford blanched. “I’m so sorry, I-” Stan punched Ford. Ford scrambled backwards as Stan advanced on him.

“I thought ya knew better!” Stan roared, his mind swirling with the weight of his responsibilities and the fresh burn smoldering on his skin.

“Stanley, I-”

“I thought ya knew better than to put your science shit before fam’ly! But ya never learn, do ya? If you want your research so bad, you should keep it!” Stan shoved his twin. Ford’s feet passed the yellow and black striped hazard line. Ford began to float into the air, pulled toward the portal. Stan snapped out of his blind rage. “Whoa, hey, what’s-”

“Stanley, help me!” Ford shouted desperately.

“What? What do I do?” Stan called back. Ford continued to fight against the portal’s pull.

“Stanley, please! Do something!” Panicked, Ford threw the book at Stan. It landed squarely in Stan’s hands. Stan watched in horror, unable to move, as his twin disappeared through the portal.

There was a shudder that shook the foundations of the house, and a bright flash of white light. It suddenly vanished, leaving afterimages in Stan’s eyes and the echo of Ford’s screams in his ears. Ford’s glasses landed on the ground a few feet away from him. Stan sat heavily on the ground, in the dark, completely numb.

He was alone.

#stanley mcgucket au #stanley pines #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #gravity falls oc #tate mcgucket #angie mcgucket #Danica Pines #Daisy McGucket #lute mcgucket #(by god that's a lot of characters)#stan pines farmhand #gravity falls #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks #Stangie Family

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alivingfire · 7 years

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Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2016

i’m gonna try and do this thing! i was tagged by @a-writerwrites, @mediawhorefics, @afirethatcannotdie and @churchrat.

1. List of works published this year:

Hiding Place (technically, last chapter and epilogue posted in january) Inconceivable Anonymous Said Oh Glory Been Together Since Way Back When Tumblr fics series (6 total) Day 1: So It Begins (from the 30 days of smut) True Love’s Gold Play the Odds

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

i mean. here’s the deal. hiding place is like... my everest. it’s my starry night. i put so much of myself into that damn thing, and the process of it 100% changed me, my writing style, how i view the fandom as well as the band. it will be my best accomplishment (even though there are definitely things i would go back now and change in it) until the next time i write a 365,000 word ode to two boys in love.

but, also, researching and writing oh glory in four days was also pretty cool.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

hmm. maybe my chapter for the 30 days of smut, just because i feel like i could’ve been more adventurous with it. i felt like -- just based on my own personal thoughts -- i sort of had a duty? as the first author to lay as much groundwork as possible for the why, and that ended up taking away from the actual sex of it all.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

this was actually really tough, and i just spent a good hour and a half digging for some quotes that aren’t stop-on-your-heart depressing that stuck with me after i wrote them. so here, from my least angsty fic -

This is where Harry should be kissing someone he’s only known for a couple of hours, someone pretty with a bright smile who makes his stomach flip when their fingers touch. It could be something new too, maybe if the kiss was good Harry would ask for a date, or a phone number; maybe if the kiss wasn’t that memorable they’d stay friends. Either way, a memory made, a New Year celebrated, a firework of lips and smiles fizzing between him and someone bright, sparkling, new.

Instead, he’s kissing Louis.

Not that Louis doesn’t sparkle; Louis shines, Louis is what the moon gets its light from when the sun doesn’t want to do its job. Louis melts the frost off the world, Louis is the burnished gold of old London and the shiny silver of chrome and glass.

And it’s not that Louis isn’t new, because Louis is ever-changing; Louis is the pattern of the stars in the sky night after night, Louis is tie-dyed freedom, reckless waves against a shore, no beat of the drum the same.

It’s just that this kiss is something new but something old, too. It’s twelve years of friendship with a new sharp edge. It’s a glass mirror broken into new shapes, a mosaic of what was and what is and what will continue to change.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

okay i was looking forward to answering this part. one of my favorite people of all time, kyla @greenadidasjumper, went through and basically live-commented her thoughts on every single chapter of hiding place, usually spanning multiple comments because they were so long. i tried for a while to go through and answer her questions and reply to what she said, but i ended up just reading them over and over and forgetting to answer so now they’re just there in my inbox for whenever i’m sad 💕💕

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

i always have a tough time jumping into something new after i’ve wrapped up a project, and i think the hardest one for me was after been together since way back when. for some reason (maybe because it hit so close to home), that was the hardest fic for me to move on from, and it took a good month or so for me to even be interested in trying anything new.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you

most of hiding place, lol. i would start a scene with no clear path and it would usually end up a lot angstier than i’d originally intended. i was also pretty surprised by how much i put into the OCs for been together, they were a lot of fun to write.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

well, that’s a good question, lol. i definitely think i’ve found my ~voice, so to speak, and i’m honing in on how i want to write as opposed to what i think others want from me. i’ve also discovered this year that the stuff of mine people tend to like the most are the things i speed-write, which is fascinating because those are the pieces i usually end up doubting the most; either way, i’ve definitely gotten better at churning out 20-30k in a week or so.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

i’m still trying to strike that balance between narrative voice and character voice, so that’s a big thing for me (especially since my next big project will rely a lot on changing POVs).

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

ooh, well. i’m forever inspired by other authors, and anytime i find a fic that catches my attention it’s like lighting a fire, so whoknows, dolce, zarah (😞), claire, addy and lexy, @a-writerwrites, @lululawrence, cherrystreet, j, @mediawhorefics, @waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee, ellie, @thedarkestlarrie, @banana-louis, @loveloveolivia, @churchrat, @lucystarkid, @juliusschmidt, - i could go on for days, you’re all huge inspirations and i sorta love you all to bits, even if it’s from afar sometimes. also @ravenclawisak was a massive massive help during the final sprint of hiding place, and in fact you can blame her for some of the more Extreme Angst in the final chapters.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

it’s actually really funny, looking back, how many fandom interests leaked into the stuff i was writing when it was being discussed -- like when a new famous friend is introduced to the fandom or an old theory or famous story is brought up and discussed. like, for instance, true love’s gold would’ve been massively different if it hadn’t been for harry’s another man shoot.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

reach out to other writers. honestly, i love having a network of authors i can go to with any questions about writing or formatting or even plotting out new projects and throwing headcanons around. authors are also the biggest allies you could ask for when it comes to hyping up your stories; get you someone who’ll reblog your fic post everyday because they’re so proud of you (but you have to do the same for them!! be a good bro).

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

the angel and demon au is going to be a doozy, so that’s one for sure. once that’s finished, though, i have my sights set on basically a whole list of things that’ve been in the back of my mind for months. ALSO idk if j @paynner is ready to go public with this but let me tell you people we have Planned Some Things and it might take us years to do it but when we do it’ll rock some worlds. 😇

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

j have you done this??? you totally should so @paynner... and i’ll add my two coffee girls @coffeelouis and @coffeehazza 😘

*All answers should be about works published in 2016. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want. :)

#this is a lot #i also tagged a lot of people so sorry about that #also i was going through the list of people i follow earlier #weeding out some inactive blogs and ones that i had muted because i don't care about those fandoms anymore #and i found zarah's blog and even though it said 'last updated one year ago' i couldn't unfollow :(#i still hold out hope... someday... she'll be back #(oak ridge boys voice) i'll gooo to my graave loving youuu #fic talk #writing things

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vanessawestwcrtr5 · 5 years

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6 Bitcoin conspiracy theories: did the CIA create BTC, or 4 tech giants?

How many Bitcoin conspiracies are out there? Are powerful forces in play that control Bitcoin’s path on a global scale? Did aliens visit us to give us ‘the Bitcoin’? Whatever we might think about these incredible stories, one thing is for certain, Bitcoin conspiracy theories are here to stay. Read on to find out more about some of the most compelling conspiracy theories floating around.

Given the fact that the founder of Bitcoin remains anonymous till this day, conspiracy theorists from all over the world are always quick to share their theories about who is behind Bitcoin and what the agenda behind the number one cryptocurrency really is.

Let us take a moment to investigate the top 6 Bitcoin conspiracies.

1. Bitcoin is created by the CIA … or was it the NSA?

One of the more persistent conspiracy theories out there, seems to be the one where it is claimed that the US intelligence services created Bitcoin to send untraceable funding to top-secret international CIA and MI5 missions.

Natalya Kaspersky, a cybersecurity expert and founder of Kaspersky Lab, a multinational cybersecurity and anti-virus provider headquartered in Moscow, Russia, collaborated on this theory during one of her presentations in the beginning of 2018, when she said that Bitcoin is a project of American intelligence agencies, which was designed to provide quick funding for US, British and Canadian intelligence activities in different countries.

‘The technology is privatized’, she said. ‘Just like the Internet, GPS and TOR. In fact, it is dollar 2.0. Its rate is controlled by the owners of exchanges.’ During the same presentation she also claimed that Satoshi Nakamoto, was in fact the codename for a collective of US cryptographers.

When Daniel Oberhaus, a news editor at Vice, requested information on Satoshi Nakamoto from the FBI and CIA, asking for any internal emails related to the mysterious individual through the Freedom of Information Act, the CIA responded by rejecting his request, stating ‘that it can neither confirm nor deny the existence of the requested documents.’

Adding more fuel to this ‘conspiracy theory fire’ is the fact that Satoshi Nakamoto, roughly translates to ‘Central Intelligence’ in Japanese.

Roberto Escobar, the younger brother of deceased drug kingpin Pablo Escobar, is another infamous character who buys into this conspiracy theory by saying that the world would eventually learn that Bitcoin was indeed a creation of the US government.

Read more: The CIA refuses to disclose whether they have information on Satoshi Nakamoto

Much like the CIA, the NSA has the capability, the motive, and the operational capacity to create Bitcoin. According to Bitcoin conspiracy theorists, the NSA has access to vast teams of cryptographers, the biggest and fastest supercomputers, and they would definitely see the need for creating a all powerful digital currency.

They might have been instructed to create the new anonymous digital cash by their friends at the Fed, or by powerful banking families.

Fuelling this theory even more is a paper published by the NSA in 1996, called: How to make a mint: The cryptography of anonymous digital cash.

The theory that the NSA created Bitcoin has actually been around for years. People continue to question why Bitcoin uses the SHA-256 hash function, which was designed by the NSA and published by the National Institute for Standards and Technology.

The fact that the NSA is tied to SHA-256 leads many conspiracy theorists to believe that the NSA has created a backdoor to the hash function that no one has ever identified, which allows it to spy on Bitcoin users.

2. Bitcoin was foretold by the Bible, and the Devil created Bitcoin

For this one we have to dig deeper into the bible, more specifically, into Revelations, Chapter 13, in the New King James Bible.

This verse discusses the end of the world, explaining the Mark of The Beast.

‘Then I saw another beast coming up out of the earth, and he had two horns like a lamb and spoke like a dragon. He causes all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on their right hand or on their foreheads, and that no one may buy or sell except one who has the mark.’

In the story, all people must have the Mark of the Beast, which people needed in order to buy food and live in this cashless dystopian society.

As Bitcoin undeniably represent a shift to a cashless society, many find it highly likely that Bitcoin is indeed the devil’s pawn.

Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time when religious fanatics go against all scientific and mathematical advancements throughout history. Just ask world-renowned Italian astronomer, mathematician and physicist of the seventeenth century, Galileo!

Read more: Is Bitcoin at $1 million really possible?

3. The Economist predicted the arrival of Bitcoin over 30 years ago

In 1988, a magazine called ‘The Economist’ published the headline ‘Get ready for a world currency.’

The cover shows a phoenix wearing a gold coin which has the number ‘2018’, the word ‘ten’ and the number ’10’. To many conspiracy theorists this meant that 10/10/2018 was going to be a significant date for Bitcoin.

The actual story goes on to say that 30 years from now, Americans, Japanese, Europeans, and people in many other rich countries, and some relatively poor ones will probably be paying for their shopping with the same currency.

The article goes on to say:

‘… national economic boundaries are slowly dissolving. As the trend continues, the appeal of a currency union across at least the main industrial countries will seem irresistible to everybody except foreign-exchange traders and governments.’

‘In time … its value against national currencies would cease to matter, because people would choose it for its convenience and the stability of its purchasing power.’

Even though, we know by now that the numbers 10/10/2018 on the cover of the magazine had absolutely no relation to any predicted event, we can say that the prediction made by the Rothschild’s Economist magazine about one world currency will be spot on, one day soon.

The Rothschild’s Economist magazine predicted a new world currency on January 9, 1988. Isn’t cryptocurrency a globalist’s 30 years idea for a global currency? Will the stock market crash or Bitcoin will take off on October 10 or November 11? @bensemchee @Timing_BITCOIN #BTC pic.twitter.com/8HWGlhjT5X

— Viet Nguyen (@vietnguyen) October 6, 2018

4. Governments are buying up all the Bitcoin

According to this ‘not too difficult to believe’ conspiracy theory, governments around the world are secretly buying up all of the Bitcoin in the world.

Already in 2013 this conspiracy theory surfaced which claimed that major governments such as the US and China were in an tight race to acquire Bitcoins.

It relates directly to the rumors that ‘those in control’ such as the ‘Illuminati’, members of the Bilderberg group, the Federal Reserve, and Mastercard, conspire to control the price of Bitcoin to undermine private investor confidence so that they would eventually sell at the lowest price to the richest 0.1%.

This would then in turn allow the richest 0.1% to push the Bitcoin price to staggering heights and beyond, and therefore maintaining the ‘Status Quo of the Rich’ at the top of the pyramid and the ‘commoners’ at the bottom ‘where they belong’.

There is of course no possible way to prove precisely how much Bitcoin governments are supposedly buying, or if indeed there are underground secret societies who are in control of our daily lives.

Read more: 9 Bitcoin price predictions for 2020 by crypto experts

5. Bitcoin was predicted by Nostradamus

The 16th century French apothecary and world-infamous prophet, Michel de Nostredame, is believed by many to have correctly predicted a variety of world events throughout history.

Some conspiracy ‘truthers’ are now suspecting that Nostradamus knew about the Bitcoin boom at the end of 2017 all along.

Nostradamus reportedly had this to say about Bitcoin:

‘Alas, how we will see a great nation sorely troubled and the holy law in utter ruin … when a new source of gold and silver is discovered.’

‘Through lightning in the arch gold and silver melted, Of two captives one will eat the other: The greatest one of the city stretched out, When submerged the fleet will swim.’

‘They will prepare idols of Kings and Princes, Soothsayers and empty prophets elevated: Horn, victim of gold, and azure, dazzling, The soothsayers will be interpreted.’

‘The copies of gold and silver inflated, which after the theft were thrown into the lake, at the discovery that all is exhausted and dissipated by the debt. All scrips and bonds will be wiped out.’

These cryptic passages written by Nostradamus in the 16th century are the reason why those who religiously follow the works of Nostradamus, now think that the book may contain hints and clues about the mysterious creation of Bitcoin.

Read more: 10 years of Bitcoin: Is Satoshi’s vision still alive?

6. 4 major Asian tech companies created Bitcoin

One of the more easy-going conspiracy theories must be that a group of four major Asian companies are behind the creation of the digital currency, specifically Samsung, Toshiba, Nakamichi, and Motorola.

The name of the Bitcoin creator Satoshi Nakamoto can be created by using the first few letters from each of the company’s names: ‘sa’ from Samsung, ‘toshi’ from Toshiba, ‘naka’ from Nakamichi and ‘moto’ from Motorola.

None of the four tech companies, however, have officially responded to this ‘doozy’ of a conspiracy theory.

Read more: Who is Satoshi Nakamoto?

So, there you have it, a wonderful selection of crazy theories surrounding the world’s most popular digital currency.

Let us know in the poll below, which one of these theories might be closest to the truth.

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Original Source http://bit.ly/2tfEADZ

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adrianjenkins952wblr · 5 years