TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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Noah Kahan
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Cosmic Funnies
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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Kiana Khansmith
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Today's Document
Xuebing Du
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@ashlindwrites
To my lovely readers of Like Real People Do - unfortunately there will be no new chapter this weekend, and most likely next as well. I can no longer procrastinate about getting ready to move, as the truck arrives in 2 days. And as I write in the same way I do everything else in life (at the last possible moment), I don't have anything in my fic pre-written. Thus, no new chapters while I move house and unpack and clean. Apologies for leaving you on a bit of a cliffhanger! Ash â€ïž
intimate stabbing
outright obsession
confused pining
"no one knows me like you do"
lifelong promises that always sound suspiciously like wedding vows
Captain America: The Winter Soldier is one of the gayest movies ever
Maria SkĆodowska-Curie's notebooks are crazy once you think about it. They're so radioactive they have to be sealed in a lead box. Imagine a world where atomic theory is forgotten and a dude just goes "yea there's a book that details the secrets of the universe, the machinations of the creation of existence down to its barest essentials, but if you get close to it you fucking die. The more you read it the more your body slowly disassembles into mush." like wat excuse me
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 13 Posted
Time had passed in an amorphous blur. An intangible thing that slipped away like water through his fingers, only to stop abruptly and drag past millisecond by millisecond. If it weren't for the time and date showing on his phone, he would have lost track of time altogether. Two weeks of sitting alone, curtains drawn, the line between night and day almost indistinguishable. There was still enough food here to last another two to three weeks. Peter wasn't sure if he could make it that much longer. At least not with his sanity intact.
A track had been worn in the rug where he'd paced back and forth, playing out imaginary scenarios where he had done everything differently. Every different choice splintering into a new and better timeline. But he'd inevitably have to return to this branch of time, this empty apartment that he haunted with his all-consuming regret and guilt.
The only moments of connection and sanity he had were the calls from Sam that came in like a beacon of hope every two days. Their talks gradually extended beyond the perfunctory check-ins. Each call became slightly longer as Peter couldn't stem the flow of words, while Sam listened with patience and offered advice with a calm authority that was like a salve to his tormented mind.
My best little writing buddy would have turned 14 this week. It's been a tough few months adjusting to her absence. But I finally cleaned and packed up her crate, bed, jackets, toys and bowls and donated them to the local animal shelter, along with some new items that I bought for them. They were very grateful, which took some of the sting out of it (still had a few tears driving away though). I'll keep her collar and favourite toy forever though - they're still covered in her fur. This photo was taken at one of her favourite places, she used to bound along the sand like a giant rabbit, lol.
Here I was thinking I wouldn't have any time to write this week as I'm moving house and need to pack and organise. But my lovely ADHD chaos goblin brain decided that a great way to procrastinate about a task it doesn't want to do (ie. packing boxes), would be to write a new 6000 word chapter for my WIP. And so, dear readers of Like Real People Do - there will be another chapter published this weekend! đ
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 12 Posted
An unsettling realisation began to claw at the edges of Bucky's consciousness, fighting to be recognised. One that had been growing, expanding, since he first met Peter. One that he had shoved down and refused to acknowledge as his protective instinct and fondness for the kid had grown. But the question was now unavoidable. Why hadnât he been able to remember Peter's face? He could overlook the one instance of not remembering him at the end of the battle with Thanos; heâd been disoriented from the blip and exhausted from the fight. But to forget his face a second time, at Stark's funeral as he stood next to his Aunt whilst every other detail of the memory was clear⊠That feeling of wrongness stirred in his gut once more, undeniable now that there was someone else who had also apparently forgotten him.
Bucky grabbed Peter by the shoulder, a little too forcefully, and pushed him toward an empty classroom. The door swung shut with a clang behind them. He made it to the centre of the room before he stopped and spun Peter to face him. The unbridled guilt on his face was enough to confirm Bucky's fears.
All of the oxygen was sucked from the room in an instant. The blood in his veins froze, his heart a solid, unmoving mass beneath his ribs.
âBucky, IâŠâ Peter stammered, swallowing hard.
"No," Bucky commanded. "Just don't. I'm going to ask you something, and you're going to give me an honest answer." His voice shook as his mind raced ahead, praying that Peter had a reasonable explanation for what had just happened, but knowing in his gut that he didn't.
Anyone else ever had a glitch in the matrix? Had a strange little occurrence in the kitchen tonight - I bought a package of cayenne pepper a week ago, opened it (cut off a corner), and used it 3 or 4 times. When I got it out tonight to use it, the package was fully in tact, unopened, uncut, like brand new. I searched the kitchen for another package, just in case I'd somehow bought another one without realising, but nope! Just the one. I'm baffled by this...
https://archiveofourown.org/works/80880201/chapters/231668246
Chapter 11 Posted!
"Soooo...Mel, huh?"
âMelâs just a colleague. I'm notâŠI don't think she'sâŠinterested." Bucky cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.
"I dunno about that. She sounded pretty interested," Peter said, glancing at him. He shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but Peter could see the wheels turning in his mind.
âI'm too old for her, anyway,â He finally said.
"Yeah," Peter agreed, deadpan, "Maybe you should go to speed dating night at the local senior center."
Bucky punched him in the arm, lightning fast.
"Ow, gun shot wound, remember!" Peter laughed as he rubbed his bicep. "I still think you should go for it with Mel, though. What have you got lose?"
Bucky shrugged, "The respect of my team. You can't imagine the field day they'd have if I got turned down."
"Wow," Peter said in mock amazement.
"What?" Bucky scowled at him.
"Oh nothing, justâŠthe Winter Soldier is scared of being teased," Peter couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.
I'm, above all else, a tangentgirl. always saying shit like "sidenote," "oh also," "by the way,"
Another little snippet of Chapter 10 -
The muscles in his shoulder screamed in great wrenching throbs as he sailed across the gap between buildings, landing harder than he expected to. His barely healed ribs adding to the searing pain on that side. Peter stumbled forward, catching himself a millisecond before the tipping point and straightening up. He paused. Just for a moment.
Listening.
Sounds of the Brooklyn night drifted to him. He mentally catalogued them as his hearing tuned in to each one in turn, so quickly that they barely registered as distinct noises before he moved to the next one.
A television, laughter, cars, a siren, a dog barking, a child crying, someone singing.
They all blended back together as his body registered that there was no longer a threat. The silent space between each heartbeat grew longer. The burning in his lungs dissipated with each jagged breath.
But the scorching throb in his shoulder remained. His right side was flushed with ice as a cool wind plastered his wet t-shirt against his side. Peter looked down. The movement made his head spin. The ambient light from surrounding streetlights and buildings revealed a dark, shiny stain covering the right-hand side of his t-shirt. He touched his fingers to it, then held them up in front of his eyes. It took a moment for his gaze to refocus. Red. Glistening in the light. The coppery tang unmistakable. Blood.
Shit.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 10 Posted
"Hey, Bucky?" Bob stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face, one hand holding the door frame. He still wasn't ready to fight, but he liked to come along on missions with Yelena. Those two were joined at the hip these days. Bucky didn't think there was anything between them other than a deep affection and friendship. They had a certain way of understanding each other, almost like they spoke a language no one else understood. He was glad they had each other.
Bucky ran a hand through his hair and forced a smile.
"What can I do for you, Bob?"
Bob looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. Then he entered the room and sat next to Bucky on the bed. In a quiet voice, he finally spoke.
"Is your friend okay?"
Bucky's eyebrows shot up, the breath caught in his throat.
"What? What friend?"
Bob gave a tiny smile and a shrug.
"Your friend that's been staying with you. I see and hear a lot more than people realize. Most people kinda forget that I'm there, but I pay attention."
Note to self - don't try to catch a glass that you've dropped, as it might smash against a shelf and slice both of your thumbs open. On the knuckles no less đ
If you ever tagged me to do one of those tag game thingies and I never did it:
1) Thank you, seriously. Those are fun and being included shows that my followers care enough to want to learn more about me.
2) Very sorry about that, itâs extremely likely that I said to myself âCool! But Iâm busy at the moment, Iâll have to do this later today or tomorrowâ before proceeding to just straight-up forget, now itâs too far back in my notifications and/or your blog to find again.
3) Sometimes I just lack the spoons. I feel loved, and included, but likeâŠI just canât.
Chapter 9 Posted
https://archiveofourown.org/works/80880201/chapters/229363511
âYou and Tony werenât friends.â It was a statement.
âNo.â Bucky replied quietly with a small shake of his head, lips pressed into a thin line. Â
It felt like talking to someone about Stark was long overdue, but he didnât know if the kid was the best person to have that conversation with. He should probably go back to therapy, like Sam had urged. Raynor had been abrasive, making him clam up instead of speaking freely. His guilt surrounding the Starks was complex and Raynor was the last person in the world he wanted to open up to about it.
Peter shifted in his seat, but his eyes remained glued to the screen as he sent his character careening around a corner, shooting an oil slick out behind him that Bucky's kart slid through a few moments later.
âI know what you did.â Peter swallowed nervously, his posture tensing slightly.
The familiar sensation of icy water filled Bucky's lungs and began to creep across his chest like a fast moving glacier. He did his best to swallow it down, to keep breathing against the tide of frigid liquid surging into his system. His kart slid off the side of the track and disappeared into the abyss below. He couldnât bring himself to look at Peter as the game reset.
having audio processing issues is so humiliating like yeah i heard you and yeah i was actively listening but the problem is i dont know what the fuck you sayed
i was paying attention, i was listening, but you see the problem is....it didnt work
yea I heard you just give me 3-5 business days for my Brain to hear you
Me when anyone tries to give me a phone number, appointment time or address over the phone.
People spelling their name
It's like all of a sudden you forget that you speak English, and it takes several moments for your brain to translate it đ
