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thebonerpit · 3 years

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cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

#tbpwrites #rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #please do not expect this kind of consistency from me normally lol #usually it takes months in between fics!#but the fandom has been so lovely and active lately that it's inspired me #maybe i'll write some actual starker at some point and not just rpf

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sxveme-2 · 3 years

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blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter One: The One Where it Starts

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1615

Being an adult in general is a wild roller coaster. Whether it be balancing bills, expenses, keeping a proper career, all together it was a stressful period. Going to the bank or answering phone calls was difficult enough. Seriously, what is with people and constantly calling? It’s so much easier to just text. Not to mention it keeps the incredibly anxiety ridden people at bay, and leaves them in a sane state of mind without worrying about anything.

That brings us to the protagonist of our story. Lily Briar Osborne. The 33 year old child of Abel and Alicia Osborne. She was the sister to two younger siblings, Rose and Cedar. Can you sense a theme with the children's names? Even Lily herself seemed to carry on that legacy with her own son. While balancing her busy work and just life in general, Lily mothered a young boy named Hunter. Hunter Osborne-Harvey. The eleven year old boy that was the result of a much too early marriage of two young kids who believed this was it, they had found the one. Well, that was not exactly the ending of their fairy tale. It instead involved a mistress, many trips to Grandma and Grandpa's, and a few too many shots in order to handle one another.

Lily was more-so a quiet girl. Definitely more of the silent type in comparison to the majority of people in her profession. She was a pediatrician, and the only time you really see her talk or even crack a smile, is when she was with the kids. She was always found making sure they felt comfortable. When the young ones were gone, she seemed to shut down. Giving straight and to the point answers. Not elaborating unless asked, and strictly sticking to just the facts.

Lily and Hunter had found home in a small colonial home in the suburbs of Manhattan, New York. There, they can be found in the company of a German Shepard named Joey, after the beloved sitcom, Friends. You could always find the small family laying in Lily's bed with the comedy illuminating the room around them. Every other Sunday and Saturday before Hunter's father came to pick him up for the weekend, they'd lay in bed before going out for brunch at Lily's best friends cafe further into the city.

Which is where the story began. a sunny Saturday morning in September.

-----

"If he doesn't like you, it's a moo point."

The two Osborne's laughed softly at the comment made by their favourite sitcom character. Lily's fingers gently ran across the arm of her son, creating a soothing rhythm as they watched the sitcom, his head laid comfortably against the pillows. The large dog laid spread down at the edge of the duvet where his breathing radiated gently through the room.

"Alright why don't you head in to get dressed and we'll go to Aunt Gen's cafe, hm? Sound like a plan kiddo?'' Lily's feather light voice cooed as her hazel eyes moved to glance over at her son.

"But I wanna stay home all day and watch friends." Hunter whined as he nuzzled further into his mom's bed.

"No love, I'm sure your dad has lots of things planned for the weekend. And we can watch more episodes when you're back tomorrow, okay? I promise." Lily sighed while lifting her pointer finger to her son.

The pointer finger promise was Lily and Hunter’s signature thing. Instead of making a pinky promise, which was the weakest finger, they used one of the strongest. to make the strongest promises. That is exactly what they would do. And they'd know that if they broke it, trust would be something that had to be earned back. And luckily for Lily, she trusted her son with her whole being. He told her everything, as far as she knew. Seeing as she wasn't in his head, who knew? Though he was very vocal about his distaste for visiting his father, and it did hurt Lily to hear the pain he felt. The separation agreement allowed Scott Harvey, Hunter's father, to have the young boy every other weekend.

Lily was lucky enough to have primary custody. Mostly because Scott was never a fully invested father before the divorce, so the court had no issue granting Lily the majority of the custody. But of course, Scott could come by whenever to see Hunter, as well as if he had something planned, he could pick up his son. But...Hunter wasn't the biggest fan of his father.

Neither was Lily.

Lily and Scott got divorced a few years ago when Hunter was a ripe 7 years old, and now he was 11, and still lacked the father figure he longed for. In those 7 years, Scott never really put an effort in. and hunter was a smart kid, and already harbored a distaste for the distant nature of his father. and it annoyed him, and Lily, that all of the sudden, after the divorce, Scott wished to be the great father he never was before. Despite his many attempts, it never worked out well for him.

"Promise." Hunter smiled gently and wrapped his pointer finger around Lily's, before sliding out from underneath the white duvet that covered the two of them, startling the dog that laid at the end of the bed.

As Hunter left the room, a small sigh escaped the blonde doctor's lips. She hated these days, when Hunter had to go visit his father. But she knew it was important for a child's psyche to have at least a relationship with their father. Picking herself up as well, Lily heaved herself into her closet. She picked out a white spring dress with blue baby's breath designs splayed across the entire piece of clothing. It was a tank top strap, and it was the end of summer and a small breeze danced through her window. She slid a blue jean jacket over her arms before stepping into her bathroom to complete her basic routine.

After she pulled her hair into a pony, lily stepped out of her room after calling Joey out and down the wooden stairs to the main floor, where Hunter sat at the front door with his backpack and Converse on. Lily couldn't help but smile gently at her punctual son and felt proud of how she had raised him. And how he had grown to be a self-sufficient boy who was also able to ask for help when need be.

"You gonna get the pancakes again today kiddo?" Lily wondered while stepping into her ballet flats and ruffling the fur on Joey's back before opening the white door for her son.

"Aunt Gen keeps putting secret blueberries in them and acting as though they're chocolate chips. I don't trust her anymore."

-----

Lily and Hunter stepped out of the silver 2019 Honda passport, the two Osborne's took a deep breath of the muggy New York air. Hunter stood by Lily's side as she paid for the parking spot they were lucky enough to grab in the busy streets. She slid her arm around the boy's shoulders, before leading the two towards the fairly busy cafe her best friend owned.

Genevive Fairchild. Lily's best friend for close to 20 years now. The two had met during their highschool orientation back in 2005. Gen was the extroverted hippy with conservative parents who disagreed with their child's decisions and mannerisms. She was always wearing what was to become her signature dreadlocks with golden decals littering her hair. Baggy shirts with fishnet cardigans and ripped jeans, the necessities to embody Gen. She entered the school loud and unbothered by others opinions or thoughts on how she acted or what she wore. But somehow, she was taken with the quiet blonde who kept her opinions to herself, hands tucked behind her back.

Lily hadn't changed much in these twenty years, much to her parents dismay. Her parents were elated when their timid daughter brought home the boisterous and carefree Genevieve. Lily's parents were the same as Gen, unbothered and one with the Earth, no real care about people's opinions. Her father was a botanist and her mother a conversationalist. Plants and crystals littered the eco friendly home of Lily's childhood in the rural area of Long Island, New York. To see their studious, goody-good, daughter who wore knee length dresses everyday and cardigans, to bring home such a carefree spirit, was a breath of long needed fresh air for them.

Ever since then, the two were inseparable. Lily even made her the godmother of Hunter. They both had keys to each others places, and nothing ever seemed to get in between the two of them. Other than those many years Scott wreaked havoc on their friendship. He kept Lily under some sort of spell, no matter how many times Gen attempted to convince her of the terrible manner of their relationship. Eventually, Gen gave up on the fight. until the young chocolate skin girl caught her best friend's husband getting it on with some girl at a party Gen was invited to.

And that was the end of that marriage. Gen stayed with lily almost every night while everything was happening. And when her or Scott couldn't get Hunter up to Lily's parents, Gen would take him. Make sure he wasn't too focused on the broken state of his mother.

As the two pushed open the door to the cafe, they were greeted with the fresh smell of coffee and pastries. That is, before they were practically being tackled by the woman earlier mentioned.

"You two will NOT believe who is here right now."

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lokidrabbles · 4 years

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Heated Shelter

A stressed out Loki comes to seek comfort with reader. A/N: Next part for my Winter themed LokixReader stories! Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: Slight angst!

Months had passed since New Asgard was established on Earth, and while the Asgardians would continue to make necessary adjustments with Thor and the already citizens of Tønsberg, time was still much needed in order to fully assimilate into Midgardian culture.

Loki was especially having a difficult time, what with having both Thor and the Avengers breathing down his back 24/7, and the heavy boulder of burden he continued to carry as evidence for the horrors he caused and was involved in. Thor had much advocated for his brother and after a strenuous period of uncertainty, Loki was placed on a certain ‘community service’ watch, to much of Tony Stark’s dismay.

Of course, this meant Loki was chained down by Midgardian Laws, unable to travel across the stars as he much desired to. He was stuck here, having to deal with the crushing discomfort of having to acclimate to life with the same creatures he once long ago intended to destroy. Thor, while his intentions good, was much too preoccupied with his role as King and as an Avenger. He had offered Loki a chance to stand by him as his royal advisor but he declined, knowing full well the amount of controversy it would create.

Loki would at times travel back and between New York and New Asgard as a way to keep busy and not linger too much around places where he was still not fully welcomed. He had thought about traveling the rest of Midgard, expanding his knowledge as he did in his younger years, however, his motivation also dwindled with any hopes of redemption.

A period while staying in NYC once again threw him almost over the edge, when a confrontation between him and Stark escalated quickly. Loki, being smart enough to understand the blame would be placed on him immediately, allowed the Ironman to win the argument, only to be met with a reprimanding speech of his adjustment on Earth.

It was humiliating, and Loki sought out for an escape. He couldn’t go back to Thor, again, knowing his brother would not be much help in wanting to side against Stark again. He also couldn’t stay here any longer, as much as he had wished for a reconciliation with Earth’s mightiest. For now, there was only one single place he had in mind to ‘wind down’, just for one evening.

His hesitation took the better of him for a good minute as he stood frozen at your door. Cold winter winds passed through him, piercing his senses back to reality. A thought tugged at him, wanting to prevent himself from burdening you in the middle of the night. Sure, you had never turned him away as of yet but the possibility still stood. And he wasn’t in the right set of mind to withstand a rejection from you.

Nevertheless, what else would he do at this point? With much courage and pride, he rang your doorbell once, declaring to make a prompt leave if you wouldn’t answer the first one.

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking human, eyes squinting and adjusting to the brightness. Darn it.

“Loki?” You asked while rubbing your eyes. He noted your warm lounge wear, and the bird nest formed at the top of your head. Either you must have already been in deep slumber or were about to drift off if it were not for him.

“Pardon my intrusion. Ah, I disturbed you didn’t I?” Loki asked. His already fidgeting hands unconsciously came together, a small habit he had picked up from Frigga for when he was uncomfortable.

“I was about to fall asleep, but no! Don’t worry, uh, is everything ok?” You asked while patting your obvious bed head down.

No. But Loki couldn’t tell you about his troubles from earlier today, what would the purpose of that be? For the first time, his sharp tongue failed him as he struggled to find the right words to say without revealing too much.

“Well...I do recall, some time ago, you mentioned that I would be, uh...welcomed here whenever I would please to.”

Loki felt stupid, his pride diminishing even further. His eloquent speech had failed him this time, knowing you were too smart to buy into the half-orchestrated lie he wanted to throw at you. He continued to pick at his fingers, ready to bolt and forget the whole ordeal. Surprisingly however, a small smile formed upon your face.

“Sure, you can hang out here for a bit if you want.” You replied, gesturing him to follow you and come inside.

Loki slowly walked in, closing the door behind him. Your home was dark, with only a small tacky Christmas tree illuminating your living room. From his introspection, you were probably falling asleep on your couch, catching sight of a small fleece blanket hanging loosely at the edge.

“Take a seat. I’m sorry it’s a bit chilly in here though, I’m not a big fan of leaving the heater on at night.” You said while reaching over and tossing the blanket towards another chair.

“Actually, it feels quite warm in here.” Loki replied, taking a seat at the edge of your couch.

“Really? I guess maybe it might be warm for an Asgardian.” You pondered, poking your lips in contemplation. “Still, I can heat us up something warm to drink if you’d like.”

Loki shook his head. “Please, don’t burden yourself. I’ll be fine like this.”

You became concerned. There was obviously something up with Loki. His meek presentation suggested a couple of things to you, and some ideas had sprouted in your head. Knowing how Loki took things however, this urged you to prod at him carefully.

“What’s wrong?” You began, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. You hoped the distance would make it easier for him to speak. “You seem a bit...off.”

Loki slumped his back against your couch, arching an eyebrow at you. “Off?”

“Like, not your usual self. In fact,” You continued, leaning yourself slightly closer to Loki to catch a better glimpse of him through the soft light. “Now, taking a closer look at you, I can tell you’re exhausted about something.”

This was true. Loki’s usual complexion was a bit darker than normally. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and although Loki never demonstrated any indication of wrinkles or laugh lines, there was a new crease forming over his forehead.

“I’m not tired.” He answered, not minding the decreased distance between the both of you. “I am however drained of this godforsaken planet.”

Those last words were filled with venom, and a deeply kept resentment began to slowly creep up into his throat. It was years since he had felt something like this, the intensity of his dissatisfaction and his hate for things, yet again, failing him horribly. No one wanted him here, that was clear enough. But he also wouldn’t subject himself to be rooted down to the remnants of Asgard on Midgard. It scared him, to expose himself to that type of darkness again.

He felt your hand gently on his shoulders, dispersing all of the negative ideas forming inside of him. He looked up at you, also very tired and exhausted. Your eyes, although slightly droopy, were focused on his, offering a gesture of empathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to have to live in an alien planet.” Your voice was soft and sincere, a change of pace in contrast to his other encounters.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a long deep breath.

“I’ve had this horrible pounding in my head for days now.” He admitted, uncertain of what you’d make out of this. “It’s causing me to...become what I’ve been wanting to avoid.”

You gently squeezed his shoulder, urging him to look at you again. “Actually Loki, it does sound like you’re incredibly stressed about all of this. I don’t know how stress works in Asgard...but maybe I can help you feel a bit better.”

Loki rolled his eyes, gently taking your hand off from his shoulder. “I’m not really in the mood for sex, especially with a mortal.”

Your face immediately became flushed. “Jesus, no! That’s not what I meant!”

He chuckled. Your little reaction was quite adorable to him. “What did you mean then?”

“Well, whenever I feel stressed the one thing that always makes me relax is getting a nice head massage.” You responding, motioning your hands over your head. “I wouldn’t mind doing that for you.”

A wary look appeared upon Loki’s face. “You will not touch my scalp.”

“Don’t be such a baby Loki. You never know, you might actually like it. You can even relax enough and take a little nap here.”

Loki fully affirmed that coming here was a very bad idea on his part. He wasn’t sure what he sought out coming here to look for you, but it certainly wasn’t something like this. He did not need to be put in another humiliating position like earlier.

“You’re out of your mind. And I’m not tired.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

You adjusted yourself on your couch, placing both of your feet flat on the floor. Your thighs became locked together and you gently patted down on them, motioning Loki to look on over.

“Lay your head down on here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t want to be a rude house guest now do you? Lay down you little grump.”

He cursed at himself for giving in so easily. Just as he was commanded to, he pulled himself over and gently laid his head upon your thighs. The couch, agonizingly too short for him to lay his legs out, forced him to raise them upon the armrest, leaving his legs out dangling in the open.

Now he felt really stupid.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry about that. Didn’t realize how tall you actually were.”

He didn’t reply, a sour look plastered upon his face. Your humor towards the situation didn’t help his self-esteem at all, but at least this would be done in privacy, for absolutely no one to know about.

You lowered your neck a bit to get a better angle on him. “Kinda let your mind wander a bit. It’s always nice when someone gives you this type of attention.”

This was a type of attention Loki seldom seemed to receive and he listened to you attentively regardless of his attitude towards it . You began, digging your small fingers into his locks, beginning to rub and tickle at his scalp in the most meticulous manner. You didn’t pay much heed whether Loki was comfortable being touched in this matter or not. You had a goal in mind and Loki would have to abide by it in whatever manner he could.

It was actually a very long time since Loki had been touched in such a manner. Or, touched by a human at all. In Asgard, physical touch was also a way to form closer bonds and relationships with family and other loved ones. It wasn’t alien to him to be touched gently by others, his memories always luring him towards the fond moments he shared with Frigga. She would comfort him by gently patting his head, or by singing soft Asgardian lullabies.

He knew humans also shared these similar traits. They were very physical creatures by nature as means to provide love and comfort. He had long forgotten what it had felt like, to be actually...taken care of by another. And even if your gestures were odd at best, he experienced a long lost feeling he had not felt for centuries.

You noticed Loki’s eyes begin to flutter and droop. You knew he has tired and you wanted to know exactly what had caused for him to reach this point. But you knew best not to dig at it without his consent.

“Loki,” You whispered. “Sleep, I know you’re very tired.”

His eyes widened and darted towards yours. You jumped back a bit as his expression became angrier.

“I am not tired.” He snarled, this time his voice louder and stronger. “I don’t need your pity human.”

Ordinarily this would be a sign for you to back off, not wanting to anger the God any further. And yet, he remained there in the same exact spot. His head laid right on your lap, with no intention to move away.

You both remained quiet for a moment, wanting the tension to ease away before you could deject his statement towards you.

“It’s not pity, you know.” You said lowly. “It’s just concern, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Loki knew you were right. He told himself he needed to feel some contentment for your care for him, but a blockage continued to prevent him from verbalizing this towards you. He looked off to the side, wanting to avoid you eyes in shame.

“Forgive me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you in that form.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” You replied, resuming to dig your fingers between his hair and his scalp. “You’ve had a rough day today, so I think it’s only fair for you to be a bit defensive.”

“Hmm.” The notion was different. For a long while, Loki was used to be talked down or to be admonished for his attitude and disdain for other’s feelings. In fact, he usually expected for others to react so negatively towards his lack of control with his anger. It was nice to be understood, even for a bit.

“I’ll just tell you one more time though. If you are tired, go ahead and nap for a bit. I won’t be bothered by it.”

You peered down to look at Loki, who continued to restrain himself from looking at you straight in the eyes. Instead he focused on your lips, soft and pink, practically begging to be kissed. Big mistake on his part.

“Thank you.” It was all Loki could reply with, as his eyes continued to flutter at the movements of your delicate fingers massaging his scalp.

Would it be completely wrong for him to close his eyes for a moment or so? He felt tired, he felt warm and he felt secure under your touch. Your fingers traced along his scalp like feathers sending a wave of tingles down his neck. The gently tugs of his locks triggered memories of his hair being braided by his mother, further dragging him deeper into that gentle slumber he had desired for.

At last, heavy eyelids drooped close and Loki’s breathing shifted, deeper and slower than before. You rested your head and arm against the armrest, feeling your legs go numb at the weight of Loki’s head. You dared not shift however, despite the pain and small discomfort you experienced. You felt Loki doze off after half an hour or so, his eyes gently closed, hands placed sternly over his chest which rose upwards and down.

Your own heavy eyelids began to flutter, but you fought against it, wanting to continue staring down at the ethereal creature who had fallen asleep right on your lap. You knew he was beautiful, and also took every ounce of will power you had to prevent yourself from bending forward and planting a much wanted kiss on him.

You chose not to disturb him, allowing him to experience a moment’s peace with you.

---

#loki #loki of asgard #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki (mcu)#loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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you-guys--are-losers · 5 years

Note

Celebrity AU for Spideychelle

//Ooh, I like this! I think I’m gonna make it kinda an Irondad fic as well, to justify why Peter is a celeb. We’re gonna try a new format for this one. Hope you guys enjoy!

michelle jones has never much liked peter parker.

it’s not a topic she discusses often, especially out her inner circle, because the opinion is probably one of the most unpopular she could have.

even so, as soon as it is pulled from her in confidence by a few friends, the reaction is unanimous, and mj is left on defense.

of course she knows about all that he and his mentor, tony stark, have done with the capital that they made off of their joint film, yes, she’s aware of the amount the two actors give to charity, and she obviously isn’t against the powerful political stance they aren’t afraid to take onscreen and in interviews. she is in complete support of all of it.

and that’s the damn problem.

everyone in the industry loves both parker and stark. they’re supposed to be incredible to work with on a project, they stay out of trouble and involved with charity in their free time, and they have a generally warm and playful dynamic. their swarms of fans all agree that the pair of them are nothing less than perfect.

and no matter how much she wants to, mj just can’t buy into it.

mj’s own rise to hollywood wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t easy, either. she had to fight for every scrap of ground, audition until she wanted to drop, defend her right to take a stance on something and to not look perfect offscreen with everything she had.

and for them, it just seems like it’s so easy.

it doesn’t create any issues for her at first, really. mj just doesn’t bring them up in interviews, and if they’re ever mentioned she just smiles, nods, and lets someone else answer the question. the few times that peter’s brought up as an example of some of the men of hollywood, mj just responds by pointing out that she’s alright being single, thanks.

but then she gets the call.

it’s not a bad call, not at first; in fact, it’s a really good one. she’s got the role, she’s going to be playing her dream role in the remake of moulin rouge, and from here on out it’s going to be all sparking diamonds and love songs…

until they tell her who she’s going to be acting opposite.

they brought him in from the outside, they tell her, and he’s apparently got a voice like a dream (because of course he can sing), and they are looking forward to the way the two will be interacting onscreen.

but all mj can think when she hears the name peter parker is shit.

because now she’s going to be working with the one actor in hollywood she just can’t figure out.

she manages to put it from her mind in the craze that follows her role being announced. she posts a few stories hinting at the announcement, of course, and one cryptic selfie on snapchat taken with the filter that makes her face and eyes seem to gleam. once the news breaks, her phone blows up with twitter, instagram, and snapchat notifications in a way that gives her a rush of excitement. the articles pop up minutes later, and she likes a few tweets strategically and replies to a couple comments before posting about the role to confirm it and then falling asleep. it’s a good night, and she manages not to think about it, but the little, nagging thought still lingers.

the next morning, when mj checks her phone after checking in with her agent, the fans are already at it.

there are already edits, conspiracy theories, and a million people commenting how good the two of them are going to look onscreen together, how well they’re going to fit their roles, and how their real-life chemistry is going to be interesting.

mj is about to close her phone when she sees an update from him, on his instagram story. she can’t keep herself from clicking on it, no matter how much she wants to.

when his face pops up, bright and friendly as always, mj blinks. he’s outside, walking through what looks like his yard wearing a button-up that’s rolled up at the sleeves, blinking into the sun. she has to catch herself to keep a smile from creeping onto her face. she knows he’s one of the most successful people in the industry, but he honestly just looks like a dork as he squints into the camera.

“i’m so excited to announce that i’ll be starring as christian in the 2026 remake of moulin rouge!” he exclaims in a voice that mj knows instinctively is genuine. “i can’t wait to work with so many talented people on this film, and i’m humbled to even be given the opportunity to be a part of this incredible project. i’ll probably update a ton, but i’ll let you guys know once we’ve started! thank you all so much for your support, and i can’t wait to share this amazing film with you.”

the whole time, mj is watching for all of the markers of insincerity. she’s used to spotting them in other actors and celebrities, and at this point, she’s honestly got it down to an art. and this time should be especially easy: part of her wants him to be lying, so it should be that much easier to spot it.

but she can’t. not a whiff of insincerity or hesitation, not a single statement that feels a bit strained, no dodgy body language. and mj knows, as she watches it play, that he means it-- every word. so, after a moment, she closes out of the app and puts away her phone for the next few hours.

things go pretty well until the day of the read-through. mj is still buzzing with the feeling of having earned the part, and she has watched the movie at least six times (though of course she would never admit it).

and she doesn’t even want to admit to herself that her heart stops a little bit every time she hears “your song,” because come on. no one can really have that much passion for someone else, not in real life

but when it comes to the read-through, mj knows that this is the real beginning of everything. a table read is going to show how the actors interact with one another, meaning that she’s going to have to figure out how she works with parker and with the rest of the cast-- and fast.

when mj shows up in clothing that is slightly more dressed up than casual, she is relieved to be one of the first. she takes her seat behind the label with her name and the character name “satine” in large script and busies herself with taking out the script she has already begun memorizing, as well as reaching for her tumbler full of tea.

it's then that mj hears a voice from beside her, one that greets her, "hello. are you michelle jones?"

mj stiffens slightly, taking a deep breath. she knows that voice because it is the one that played from her phone all those days ago. mj raised her eyes to his face, but it's much different in person.

sure, he's still got brown hair and eyes and what she supposes is an attractive face, but it's not just that. in person, mj can see the slight smile lines on the edges of his eyes, the easy grin on his crooked lips that makes her feel slightly warm, and the muscular nature of the forearm that he is extending to her in hopes of a handshake. if she breathes in deeply, she can smell a scent that she thinks might be lemongrass.

mj keeps her face neutral, however, as she peers up at him, nodding with a polite smile. she returns the shake, trying not to think about how easily her hand slides into his.

"yes, i am. nice to meet you," she replies, though she knows that if she had the choice she wouldn't continue the conversation.

or at least, she'd like to think she wouldn't.

his hand lingers in her for a moment, then he takes it back, sitting next to her. "i'm peter," he introduces himself as he sets the cup of coffee in his other hand down in front of him. "peter parker."

mj holds back what might be either a laugh or a scoff, she's not sure which. of course she knows who he is-- everyone does, so why does he bother with the formalities? but something tells mj it's sincere, so, after a moment she responds, "i know." her statement is not unkind, but it's simple, leaving it to him to continue as she opens her script.

"i'm really excited to get to work on this together, i think it'll be great," peter continues. mj can hear the earnest, truthful tone in his voice, and when she hazards a glance over at him, she can see the look reflected in his eyes. it makes him appear younger than he is. "i was really glad to hear you got the part."

mj glances over at him, more hesitant than ever now. she is quiet for a moment as she processes it, and once she is sure he's not screwing with her, she replies, "oh, thank you." she pauses for a fraction of a second before blazing ahead. "do you mind if i ask why?"

mj could almost swear a rosy hue comes to his cheeks, but he doesn't look away or allow himself to appear flustered. instead, peter parker says something that catches her off guard.

"i've always admired you," peter admits, not looking away from her. "i respect what you stand for and that you haven't allowed success to change you, and i can't imagine how difficult it must be to maintain the independence and dignity you do in this industry. i've always thought it was incredible."

mj stares at him, and for a moment she might forget to breathe, because what the hell?

peter parker, hollywood's biggest heartthrob, admires her? and not just for anything, but for her values?

what is she supposed to say to that?

luckily, mj is saved from having to respond when their new director begins to speak, but mj isn't listening to a word she's saying. the actress is far too busy making some attempt to figure out how on earth she is supposed to handle this turn of events.

after a brief interlude, they begin immediately-- it's time to get into the script, and mj is so ready. she isn't in the beginning scenes, so mj takes a chance to watch the cast perform.

they're incredible: mj can see why they were all chosen, and the chemistry between them is perfect. they are on the same wavelength, and though of course there are mistakes, there are also many moments that hint at the perfect piece they're going to create together.

but for some reason, mj can't stop watching him.

he's a young writer in the film, and it suits him perfectly. the soulful, passionate, naive character plays out perfectly through peter parker-- and he doesn't just go surface level. peter acts with such an incredibly subtlety that mj can't look away, and she's grateful when her character enters so that she can stop staring.

for a while, she gets along perfectly with the other actors who she interacts with, and she loses herself in the flow of the acting. it's not complete yet, but for a few moments here and there mj can feel satine taking control of her rather than allowing mj to continue as a pale imitation. it's a character study, and she's learning how to be someone else-- of course there's a learning curve. but it's exhilarating, and for a moment she forgets about peter parker.

until it comes to their first scene together, which begins as a comedy but continues on into a love song.

of course they're not singing together yet, but they're doing the dialogue, and that's enough. at first, it's just comedy, and watching peter's character, christian, attempt to figure out the antics of her own character is amusing. she gets a few laughs out of the rest of the crew, too.

but then things start to become more serious, and they begin to speak about love for just one sweet moment between.

and when he looks at her?

for a moment, satine falls away completely, and mj is all that is left. so it is mj who sinks into those dark brown eyes that are looking at her like she is the sun, like nothing else could possibly shine as bright.

no one in the room moves, breathes, says anything as peter and mj speak, their words weaving the scene together around them, turning chairs and tables and empty coffee cups into rich silks and shining lights and summer nights.

the moment lingers, only to be broken by the entrance of another character, and mj shakes away the spell.

and she plunges forward in order to continue, shoving down the disappointment she feels deep in her chest.

because maybe those feelings exist, but they're for another day.

and she's not ready to admit that maybe, at least when it comes to peter parker...

she could have been wrong.

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raybansandcoffee · 5 years

Text

Adventure of a Lifetime - Chapter Six

Since it’s Fan Fic Writer’s Appreciation Day I am going to give some love to my readers. So here we go - Chapter Six of Adventure of a Lifetime! You can find the rest of this story HERE. I hope you enjoy it!

**********

We spent a few more hours in the pool, eventually waking Axel up from his nap and bringing the little guy in the water with us. It was a truly awesome way to kick off summer. I loved getting to see the kids laugh and smile. It also felt like a giant weight had been lifted off of my chest that I had someone here to talk to about the fucked up year I’ve experienced. Sure, I could call home and talk to Alex or Frankie. I could only sort of talk to Savy and with Tony moving out here I’d maybe have someone to lean on when things got hard for me. But having someone who even had a slight understanding of what I might be going through as a single parent was a relief.

“We are going to get cleaned up and then we’ll be over at your place in an hour,” Jeremy said as he was helping me get the kids buckled into their seats. “Do you need me to bring anything over?”

“No, your help is seriously more than enough. We will see you in a little bit.” I hopped into the car and started to drive down the drive towards the gate. “Did you have fun today Elle?”

“I did. I had a lot of fun! Jeremy is really nice and I’m glad Papa FaceTimed us too. I miss Papa.”

“I miss Papa too, babe.” My phone started to ring through the car. It seemed like nearly every time I had the kids in the car, just as Axel was about to fall asleep the phone would ring. I saw that it was my brother on the screen in the dashboard.

“Hello,” I answered. “Charlie’s Carpool Service.”

“Hey sis,” Tony said.

“Uncle Tony!” Ellie yelled from the backseat.

“Ellery Marie, how is the first day of summer?”

“Awesome. I went swimming with Ava and her Dad Jeremy and Mom and Axel. Mom says you’re on your way to see me,” Ellie yelled from the backseat.

“I am E-Money. I am getting closer. Sis, you were so right. This is a beautiful drive. The mountains are gorgeous. If I wasn’t in a hurry to get to your place I’d totally stop.”

“Right? I keep telling myself that someday I’m going to drive through and actually stop and enjoy it. But I don’t. I should though. I think once the kids are older it will be easier.”

“I am so anxious to get there. I’m driving faster than I should but you know how well I sit still,” Tony said causing me to laugh.

“You don’t. Road trips with you when you were younger were a nightmare.”

“It’s not much easier now. Especially considering I’ve had 3 Red Bulls already.” I groaned.

“Anth, I have to be able to sleep tonight. I can’t stay up all night with you. I do have two kids to take care of. So you and your over-caffeinated self are on your own for an all-nighter.”

“I won’t make you pull an all-nighter tonight. But I am going to need some help getting stuff unpacked and moved around.”

“I know. We will have help too. Ava and her Dad are going to be there for dinner tonight and Jeremy offered to help us get everything moved around for you. You might want to take stuff from some of the other rooms in the house to make your room feel right.”

“True. So who is Jeremy? Someone I need to know about?”

“He’s Ava’s Dad. Ava is Ellie’s best friend from school. He’s a really nice guy.”

“Like are you dating him?” Tony asked.

“That’s the best joke I’ve ever heard. I don’t have time to date. Also, I just met him yesterday. Like I used to have decent luck with guys but not good enough luck that I could get a guy at school pick-up. He heard me on the phone with you and Dad today. He offered to help since I’m going to need to do some cleaning in the apartment. I don’t think it’s been used for a while.”

“As a single man, all I have to say is if I were to offer my assistance in cleaning an apartment and moving a woman’s brother into it I would only do it if I were interested in her. Well, or if she was super hot and I thought I might get laid. Speaking as your brother you’re super cool and from what I’ve heard from my friends my entire life, I have hot sisters. I personally find that absolutely disgusting to hear but it’s been said to me so I will repeat it to you to provide an ego boost before I arrive and take over a portion of your house.”

“It’s nothing. The babies are the priority. My non-existent love life is not. I’m home now. I need to get both of the kids rinsed off because we were in chlorine all day. Admittedly, I am so lucky that these kids aren’t biologically mine or I’d have two kids with green hair like Frankie and I had growing up.” We both had bright blonde hair as kids and spent enough time in the pool that by mid-summer we both had a greenish tint to our hair. It drove our mother crazy. She tried everything she could to get the tint out short of having her small children’s hair bleached before we went back to school.

“I’ll be there in a few more hours. I can’t wait to see you, Sis.”

“I can’t wait to see you either, Anth.”

“Bye Nugget,” he called to his niece who I caught smile through the rearview mirror in the backseat.

“Bye Meatball,” she replied before I heard him laugh and the call disconnected. I did my best to get both kids out and everything into the house in one trip. I found Savannah laying on the couch.

“Hey Sav. Did you have a good night off? Well, I guess night and half-day?” I asked.

“I did. Theo took me to dinner last night, we met up with some friends, and then went back to his place. He had to work at noon so I must’ve just missed you guys as you left.”

“Probably. How are things with Theo?” I asked.

“Okay,” she mumbled. “Last night was weird. Normally when I stay over he is happy about it, last night he just sort of acted annoyed by it. I need to go hose these two kids down since they spent the entire day in chlorine.”

“I’ll come help. You can fill me in on the playdate with Ava’s hot, single, superhero Dad.”

“I mean Hawkeye is a superhero but he has no superpowers, just an insane skillset.”

“God you are such a nerd,” she said through laughter. It was the same laugh her mother had and often used when I did something ridiculous.”

“It’s true though. But the day was nice. He’s an incredible guy, great dad, and obviously super fucking hot.” I whispered the last part hoping that Ellery didn’t hear it because lately, she’d been a parrot to everything I said. “I haven’t said anything to your mother about who he is. You know how she is. She’d immediately assume that because he’s an actor…”

“He’s an ass, I know. I didn’t tell her after Ava’s birthday party.” Savannah’s Dad was an aspiring actor when he met Alex and had managed to have a pretty steady career over the last two decades. Despite having always been a decent Dad there was a huge part of Alex that would never get over parts of who he was so every actor to her was an asshole.

“You didn’t even tell me, which is baffling. You live in my home and somehow forgot to tell me that my kid’s best friend’s Dad is Jeremy fucking Renner. I should fire you and kick you out.”

“First of all, this is way more entertaining. Second, you would be screwed without me.”

“Don’t be so sure. Tony is on his way here right now. So I need to go clean these monsters up quickly so I can go get the apartment ready so that my baby brother can move in.”

“Tony is moving in with us?! You forgot to mention that to me.”

“This is way more entertaining.” She flipped me off. Alex’s warning earlier wasn’t unwarranted. Savannah had an obvious crush on my little brother. She’d traveled with me to his graduation. I watched how she acted around him. The same way she had since she was about 12 and realized that he was cute. She’s also not good at hiding anything from me.

“I hate you but I’ll help you clean the kids up so that you can also shower.”

“You are forgiven.” Savannah took Ellie’s hand in hers and I followed them upstairs as I carried Axel. I could tell that he was tired from the pool today, despite his nap. We got both of the kids in the bathtub and cleaned up. I got Axel cleaned up and put into some clothes so he could take a short nap while I showered. Once he was in his crib I snuck into my bedroom to shower. I put on music that I could listen to in an attempt to calm down from the emotions of today and prepare myself for tonight.

I stood beneath the water as it cascaded over me and took a deep breath before the deep sigh came out, followed rapidly by the tears. They came faster accompanied by the sound of me struggling to breathe. I leaned back against the cold tile wall as the water mixed with my tears. I was hoping I’d left the music up loud enough that if anyone walked into my bedroom that they would only hear the music and not my sobbing. It wasn’t the normal crying I experienced. The crying from loneliness at night because I’d gone from sharing my bed with a man I loved to him walking away because he couldn’t handle the new life I’d been given. The crying that came when I sat at a piano trying to write the score to a scene, missing the suggestions and smart-assed remarks that came from my partner as I worked through a difficult part. The crying that came when I had a great day that I wanted to celebrate and knew the only way I could do it was via FaceTime or a phone call with my sister or my best friend. The crying because I missed another family dinner or my nieces’ dance recital, or another baseball game for my nephew. This crying was different. It was almost as if the tears were a sense of relief because I’d finally had the chance to grieve aloud with someone.

I hadn’t opened up about Sam and Michael to anyone new, until today. I’ve lived here for nearly 11 months and had been unable to make any friends because I couldn’t be open with them. I struggled in every single setting I’d found. I couldn’t relate to the stories of pregnancy and childbirth. The few people I’d met without kids I couldn’t relate to because I did have to go home to take care of the two I was raising. Jeremy was the first person in my new life that I’d been able to open up to. We’d only met yesterday but he was willing to listen and show that he cared. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten lucky enough to finally meet someone who attempted to understand what happened. Someone who actually asked about their Dad. I’d always felt the judgment from the Mommy Groups. I had no wedding ring on my hand. There was never a mention of a father. I saw the way they looked at me, like the irresponsible person who got pregnant without a plan or a partner. At first, I was sad. Then I got angry. I felt they didn’t deserve the actual story of those two incredible babies I was given. They didn’t deserve to learn the tragedy we’d experienced and that I didn’t want to see the looks change from judgment to pity.

I finally stopped the crying enough to finish my shower. There was no point in trying to make my hair look great, it would inevitably end up in a messy bun while I helped Tony unpack. I did put on a little bit of makeup. The lack of sleep I’d been getting this week and the crying in the shower had my under-eyes dark and puffy. I took a deep breath as I looked in the mirror. I needed to get myself out of this funk and get ready. It wouldn’t be long before the house would be buzzing with energy and people. I needed to be prepared to have all of this enter my space.

I went into the closet and quickly threw on some clothes. I found a pair of cut-off denim shorts that were far too short but I didn’t care. I looked in the mirror after throwing on a bra and t-shirt. The clothes fit me differently than they had a year ago. As much as I’d believed that eating like a child for a year had changed my body, that hadn’t been it. It was grief and depression. It was the occasional drink I had at night to help me wind down and eventually find a few hours of sleep. It was the lack of sleep I’d had for the last year. My life had changed, it was the only reasonable excuse for my body to have changed. The shorts hung on me differently than they had last year. They were tighter in some places, looser in others. The t-shirt hung past my shorts so I tied a small knot in it, I didn’t want to look like I was running around the house without pants on. I heard my text alert go off on my phone from the bathroom.

We are on the way. Do you need us to pick anything up?

We are okay. We will just order pizza when it gets closer to dinner. The gate code is 5309#.

Why leave off the 867?

The fact that you guessed where that came from cracks me up. It’s 100% Michael’s doing. Okay, I may have been an accomplice on it. Sam was so pissed at us.

We will see you in a little bit then.

I walked across the hall to get Axel out of his crib. He didn’t look like he’d actually taken a nap but hopefully, the time he spent in his crib made him a little bit rested. He was usually a pain to deal with if we did a lot during the day and he didn’t get enough of a nap. He was hitting growing spurts, he was experiencing a lot of firsts, and that took a lot more energy than before had. I bounced him on my hip to hear him giggle as we headed down to the living room.

“Jeremy and Ava are on their way. We are gonna do some work in the apartment so it’s ready for Tony when he gets here. Do you want me to take Axel with us? I can take a pack and play out there so he can hang with us.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Savannah replied. “I’m fine watching all three of them. But if you want him with you out there that’s fine too.”

“I think I’ll take him out there.” I handed Axel to Savannah before I went downstairs to my studio, grabbed the pack and play I kept in there and took it, along with some cleaning supplies, out to the apartment and set it back up. I opened up some of the windows in the apartment to air it out. It had been closed up for months.

I loved the apartment. It was so bright. There were so many windows that the natural light at times was almost blinding. The ceilings were made of beautiful wood beams. The living room had a great fireplace. It had a fantastic kitchen. There was a clawfoot bathtub that I’d taken more than one bath in over the years. The view out the bedroom was into the forest our compound was essentially plopped into. There was a little basketball court beside it, which my brother would love. It was nicer than the apartments any of my friends had lived in at Tony’s age. The furniture in here was perfect and picked to my style which was all Sam’s doing. They had really decorated this to be my Peter Pan house in the trees and here I was handing it over to my baby brother so he could spend some more time being one of the lost boys. I saw Jeremy’s truck pull up the driveway so I headed out of the apartment.

“Your land is gorgeous,” he said as he climbed down out of his truck. He opened the back door and Ava jumped out.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“How much do you have?”

“I think just shy of 8 acres, like 7.75. Michael wanted all of the land, Sam wanted close to the water. He won because she fell in love with this place.” Ava was walking ahead of us up the stairs towards the front door. I leaned over her to open the door and let them in. Ava hurried over to where Savannah, Ellery, and Axel were playing on the floor. “Want a tour?”

“Sure.” I took him through the first floor which was all living space before we headed upstairs. It was all bedrooms and bathrooms. It wasn’t perfect or clean, it was lived in. It was the home of a single parent, her two kids under 5 and their nanny. “The view from up here is gorgeous,” he said as he leaned down on the railing that ran along the deck that was on the upper level of the house.

“It is. The view and the house was what got Sam to agree to not be by the water. She walked out to exactly where you are standing and turned to look at me, because of course she’d drug me to house shop with them, and she said ‘how the fuck do I agree on this house instead of the water without letting him win?’ I died laughing. She didn’t like losing to Michael and she’d lost on the house in LA and the house here because Michael knew her better than she did.”

“That’s funny. They sound like great people.”

“The fucking best.”

“The only room in the house that looks like it’s been even remotely remodeled is yours. It’s the only one that doesn’t fit the style of the rest of the place.”

“The basement has had some major changes. But yes, of the bedrooms only mine. The first month we lived here I couldn’t sleep in here. I was sleeping on a couch or on the floor in Axel’s room. It was their bedroom it was too much for me to handle. So finally on her second visit, my sister drug me out shopping. New everything so that it was my bedroom, not theirs. The first night I slept in there was the first night I’d slept in almost two months. My sister stole the baby monitor that was in my room and she handled the kids. I slept for 16 straight hours.”

“You were physically and emotionally exhausted. You are definitely lucky to have your sister, though she seems like she’s a force to be reckoned with.”

“Oh, she definitely is.” I took him back through the house and to the basement. There was a pool table, bar, wine cellar, theater room, and my sanctuary. “This is my studio. My happy place.”

“It’s fucking amazing. You put a lot of work into this.”

“I did. I moved the stuff we had in LA out here. I had some renovations done to make more space in here. I made it the most perfect space to work.”

“You have three pianos in this house, two of which are baby grand. That’s just crazy.”

“I know. I feel spoiled because of it. This is the baby grand from our studio in LA. The goal when I redid this place was that it would fit. Every song we wrote together we essentially wrote on that piano. The piano upstairs is the one from their house in Los Angeles.”

“And that one?” he asked gesturing to the wooden upright that sat just outside of the studio in the bar area of the basement. It was beautiful but had clearly seen better days.

“That is the piano I grew up playing. It was in my Dad’s house when he grew up so my grandparents had it moved to our house when I was three because I loved playing with it at their house and neither of them played anymore. My Dad still remembered bits and pieces from when he was a kid. So he’d teach me what he could remember. At four I started trying to take lessons by six the lessons were twice a week that my piano teacher came to my house.”

“So that’s the family piano. I love that you moved it out here.”

“I couldn’t leave it in LA. It holds so much history. My grandpa bought it for my grandma as a wedding gift. By the time I was born she’d developed arthritis and couldn’t play anymore. My Dad still has a baby grand at his house because it fit the style of the house much better. That one lived in the basement bar room so it is pretty happy living here now. It always got played during parties at my Dad’s and hopefully, someday that happens here too.”

“That’s some awesome family tradition.”

“I like to think so.” I watched as he sat down at the baby grand in my studio and started to play. It was rare that people who sat down at one of my pianos actually knew how to play. Growing up it was friends thinking playing chopsticks was funny every time they were at my house. In my condo it was usually drunk people thinking they were writing a song. But here was one of the rare occasions where someone sat down and their fingers easily moved across the keys and beautiful music appeared. I sat down beside him on the bench and started to play with him. Adding higher notes to what he was playing that somehow mixed into his song beautifully. I looked over at him as he smiled and nudged me with his shoulder. Having musical chemistry with someone was a rare thing to find. The ability to just sit and make music together without any preconceived plans or music. In my lifetime I’d only ever found it with my brother and Sam, until this moment. “You are pretty damn talented, Jeremy.”

“You’re not too bad yourself. Okay, while I’d love to get lost in all of the instruments in here and play for hours we have to get an apartment ready for your brother,” Jeremy said as the sound of the music stopped.

“We do. He’s really good at ruining all of the fun.” We both stood up and headed upstairs to grab Axel and head out to the apartment. I had Axel expertly balanced on my hip as I opened the door and headed up to where my brother would be living. “Are you excited to get it ready for Uncle Ant to live out here, Axe-man?” He giggled a response at me.

“Do the kids like your brother?” Jeremy asked.

“They love him,” I replied. “He and Ellery have been close her whole life. If he was home for long he’d end up at the studio a lot with Sam and I. He is going to make a great Dad someday because he did everything he could to help us. He fed her, changed diapers, everything. And since I’ve had this little guy since he was three weeks old Axel won’t know life without Tony being Uncle Ant.” Axel started to squirm in my arms so I put him down in the pack and play.

“Your brother is super lucky.”

“Why is that?”

“This apartment is gorgeous. The view from here is almost as good as it is in the master. There’s so much natural light. It’s just absolutely beautiful.”

“That it is. I do love it out here.”

“I can see why,” he said as he walked over to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows to look outside. “If someone had given me this place at 22 for free I’d have thought I was the luckiest guy alive.”

“If I’d been given it at 22 for free I would’ve felt that way too.”

“Even the furniture out here is amazing. You are right, it’s a much different style than the main house but is almost identical to the master. They clearly decorated it for you.”

“That they did,” I replied. “Eventually I’ll try to make the whole house more my style but for now it’s not worth the money to completely re-furnish the house. I spent the money on my spaces. Anything for the kids I’ve left the same. I did allow Savy to make whatever changes she wanted to her space too. It’s just super fucking tough to not know what is going to cause some major upheaval with the kids or anyone else.”

“It is a tough thing to navigate but you appear to be doing a great job. I tried not to change too much right away on Ava. I didn’t want the house to suddenly feel different beyond her Mom not being there. Over time she’s adjusted as well as can be expected. It’s tough to go back and forth between parents and cities.”

“Do you and your ex get along? I mean you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“I feel like since you divulged the dead best friends’ kids info that I can share too. We don’t, not in the least bit. She’s been difficult to deal with and that’s putting it nicely. It gets easier the more removed we are from our divorce that we are. I hope that continues to be true because I feel like the older Ava gets the harder it’s going to be. Divorce is easy on no one.”

“I can confirm that. My parents’ divorce was a nightmare. Ava is maybe lucky that she was young enough that she won’t remember it. I remember my parents dealing with theirs. The arguing. The lawyers. The custody agreements. The uncomfortable kid swaps. And then out of nowhere my Mom got a new job and moved to a new country leaving us with my Dad permanently. Which seems super tragic because it’s these two teen girls growing up without their mother, but it was the best thing that could’ve happened to us.”

“It’s great that you feel that way now. Does your sister?”

“100%. One of the many reasons she was upset that I didn’t opt to buy the house down the canal from her was because it meant there was one more person to occupy our mother on her occasional trips back to California. I am usually very ‘go with the flow’ so I can handle her pretty easily. I mean she gives me more anxiety than just about anything outside of motherhood, but I’ve always been the one more capable of dealing with her. My sister gets so stressed out that she breaks out into hives. We both have some pretty serious anxiety issues and my Mom is a giant trigger to both of us. She is hard to describe.” I laughed a little because honestly, I wasn’t even sure where to start when it came to explaining my Mom. “She doesn’t understand boundaries, she is flighty, and just does whatever feels great to her. She’s never been able to put what someone else might need in front of what she wants. I almost envy that drive and ambition. There is literally nothing that will hold her back from doing what she wants. There was one night sitting that it was just Mom, Frankie and I sitting and talking, perhaps drinking too much wine, that my Mom admitted that she never wanted kids.”

“That had to be hard to hear.”

“Honestly, it was a relief. It wasn’t that Frankie and I sucked, she loved us and said she didn’t regret having kids but that she never really wanted them. My Dad did and she fell for him. She thought that if she was supposed to have kids it would happen and it happened…quickly. And then she thought what would it hurt to have a second because at least we could entertain each other. It did not turn out at all how she’d imagined and so she had two girls who were happy to move in full-time with their Dad when a new job came calling.”

“Parents can be interesting. It’s also crazy the way everything you thought as a kid flips as soon as you have kids. Like I could never understand why my parents wouldn’t let me do certain things as a kid and now the idea of Ava doing some of them is just flat out fucking terrifying.”

“Just wait. Those girls are cute now, they will grow to be teenagers before we know it. I’m terrified of raising teenagers. Teenage girls come with hormones, hatred for their mothers and teenage boys. Teenage boys will be the death of me.”

“I’ve had some tactical weapon training in my life. I’ll make sure we get some for you before the girls get that old and we can tag-team them.” I started to laugh probably too hard at that.

“I was a teenage girl once. I mean by the time they are teenagers they will have way more technology than I ever had but I will be able to figure out when they are lying to us. I mean I may have been a music nerd but that meant I hung out with musicians. There is nothing worse than a teenage boy in a band.”

“Hey! I was once a teenage boy in a band.”

“And I bet all of the girls loved you and that you broke all of their hearts.”

“Possibly.”

“Possibly my ass. I can see it in your eyes. You have the kind of eyes that can easily make a woman turn into mush and do whatever you ask them to.”

“Oh, I do?”

“Yes, you do,” I said firmly. He did. I was fairly certain that if he asked me to do anything at this moment I’d do it. With the only possible exception being abandoning my children. “I know eyes like that. They talked me into a lot of stupid shit in high school and even worse shit in college.” Jeremy started to laugh really loudly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I looked over at him. I could sense already that he was mischievous, had a great sense of humor, he was obviously insanely handsome and was going to cause a shift in my life.

“Ugh, you’re gonna be the death of me. I can feel it already.” His laughter grew louder before I threw a dust rag at him. “Get to work, Renner.”

**********

First of all, THANK YOU for reading this or anything else I’ve ever written. I appreciate it and the feedback I get. I love writing. In fact, today in therapy my therapist asked me if there were no limits to what I could do and I could pick one thing to do as a career what it would be I said I’d be a writer. I mean if I could go back and redo my life I’d probably be in politics somehow. But ultimately, writing is my one true love. So thank you, from the bottom of my little black, jaded heart the most sincere thank you for supporting me.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wanted there to be some one-on-one time with Jeremy and Charlie. Their banter makes me happy. The way he allowed her to talk so freely about the trauma in her life shows how caring of a person he is. I’m excited to continue to develop their friendship and see where it develops. I’m also super excited to get Tony to Tahoe! Charlie is obviously very close with her family and having her little brother with her will help her to develop the sense of calm she needs in her life. I think Jeremy will bring that to her too. And if nothing else, he’ll probably bring her a few laughs.

I can’t wait to hear what you thought. Feel free to message me, comment, or whatever. Your feedback means so much to me. The only way for me to improve as a writer is through your feedback. Love what I’m doing? Awesome! It’s such a pick-me-up for a writer to hear someone loves their work. Trust me, with the stuff that goes on in my daily life those little nuggets of happiness mean everything. Hate the direction I took something? Confused by the wording I used? I want to hear that too. The only way to improve is to learn from my mistakes and move on from there.

Again, thank you. You’re amazing.

xx. AM

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jodyedgarus · 6 years

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The 6 Things We’re Watching This NBA Season

Another NBA season gets underway tonight, and aside from the obvious question — can the Warriors piece together three consecutive championships? — there are several things worth watching. We took a crack at analyzing a handful of them, and how we think they might play out, just ahead of the games on opening night.

Will the Timberwolves overcome the drama to reach the playoffs again?

Minnesota coach and team president Tom Thibodeau has gone out of his way to paint the Timberwolves’ current situation as “not unusual.” But it’s hard to picture anything messier than what the past few weeks have brought this club.

Jimmy Butler, a free agent after this season, requested a trade. The Timberwolves have seemed reluctant to make that happen, confusing and frustrating interested teams. It all bubbled over last week with Butler’s outburst during a scrimmage, raising the question of why on earth the two sides still hadn’t divorced yet. And now, it seems that Butler and Thibodeau will at least start the season together after this awkward tango.

It’s painfully obvious why Thibs wouldn’t want to part ways with the player who was the team’s most valuable last year: His job(s) could be on the line if this season is a failure.

Yet even if off-court chemistry weren’t a problem, other issues remain. Minnesota has looked awful, a concerning sign even if it is a symptom of Butler’s absence. The club owned the NBA’s worst defense by far in the preseason, and three different rotation players this past week said they think the defense likely needs to switch pick-and-rolls more than it has done in order to be successful.

When I asked Thibodeau last week how the club could go about fixing its defense, he was quick to tell me that the Wolves ranked seventh in the NBA in defensive efficiency while the starting five1 was on the floor last season yet 30th (dead last) when their bench was playing.2 Knowing Thibodeau’s rotational tendencies, if that pattern repeats itself, it will likely result in his starters playing huge minutes — and not all of his starters seem to be on board with that.

No one knows how it’ll all play out. But there figures to be even less room for error now than there was last season, when Minnesota reached the playoffs on the final day of the campaign. So the fact that not everyone is on the same page — and perhaps not even reading from the same book — is problematic heading into an incredibly important year for the franchise.

Will the Lakers be able to run as much as they’d like?

It seems like every NBA coach in recent memory has said that he’d like to get out in transition more than the previous season. But with the Lakers — who have a front office led by the person who ushered in the Showtime era — that strategy will almost certainly go beyond just words.

Los Angeles finished the preseason second among NBA teams in pace, a trend that, should it hold, would allow the Lakers to rely less on their half-court offensive sets. This may take some time to iron out as Lonzo Ball and company adjust to playing alongside LeBron James — and vice versa.

Last week, we analyzed some ways the team could ensure that its pace would be among the league’s fastest. But perhaps the most surefire way for the Lakers to accomplish this is to secure defensive rebounds. And that may be a problem. The Lakers — who lack depth at center and are likely to feature several small-ball lineups this season — wrapped preseason by finishing 23rd among NBA teams in defensive rebound percentage.

L.A. will almost certainly be good in transition this year. It will run some drag screens or an occasional give-and-go, like this one that produced a LeBron-to-Lonzo alley-oop last week.

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The Lakers can be successful when they crank up the tempo. The question is whether they’ll force the turnovers and secure the rebounds that allow them to play that style.

Have the Bucks really overhauled their offense?

Last season was likely an exercise in frustration for fans of the Milwaukee Bucks.

On the one hand, the franchise had Giannis Antetokounmpo, a player so multitalented that it’s difficult to put his skill set into words. On the other hand, Antetokounmpo played within an offensive system that didn’t do anywhere near enough to make the game easier for him, particularly with regards to spacing. In last season’s first-round playoff series with Boston, he’d sometimes drive to the basket only to find two extra defenders in the paint because a pair of his teammates didn’t keep their distance and dragged their men into the play by mistake.

If things go right for the Bucks this year, though, those sorts of images will soon feel like a distant memory. And that’s because the team’s offense has shown brisk signs of overhaul.

Milwaukee last year ranked just below league average in attempts that came from the most efficient parts of the floor, taking 64 percent of its shots from inside the restricted area or outside the 3-point line. But this preseason, the Bucks led the NBA in that capacity, taking a whopping 81 percent of their shot attempts from those regions. For context, the Houston Rockets, who avoid midrange shots like the plague, led the NBA last season by taking 82 percent of its shots from the restricted area and behind the 3-point line.

This change comes just months after the team hired former Atlanta Hawks coach Mike Budenholzer, who has long prioritized four- and five-out lineups3 that not only spread the floor with great tempo but also seek to make the extra pass to keep defenses off balance.

This Bucks’ roster — with rookie Donte DiVincenzo, Pat Connaughton, Brook Lopez and Ersan Ilyasova — has far more perimeter threats than it did last season. And because Budenholzer’s teams have always been pick-and-roll heavy, with bigs who can stretch the defense by popping as opposed to just rolling, Antetokounmpo figures to be positioned in the middle of the floor, where opponents will be able to give him considerably less attention. If they do load the paint against him, he’ll have an abundance of sweet-shooting teammates open in the corners for a change. (For what it’s worth, the Bucks managed to connect on an impressive 47 of 92 corner 3-point tries that stemmed from Antetokounmpo’s kick-out passes last season, per Second Spectrum.)

Giannis was already one of the scariest players in the league. Now, finally, he’s part of an offensive attack that may be more worthy of his vast, budding talent.

Can the Spurs really make the playoffs again, despite their injuries and departures?

Some are tip-toeing around this question out of respect for what San Antonio has done in the past, so fine: I’ll be the blunt one. I see almost no way the Spurs reach the playoffs for the 22nd straight time. I stopped just shy of that prediction last year, but I did feel pretty strongly that San Antonio would have a rougher-than-usual campaign, before we knew of the depths of the Kawhi Leonard situation.

This suggestion isn’t exactly groundbreaking, given that Kawhi is now a Raptor, Tony Parker is a Hornet and Manu Ginobili is retired. Perhaps even more of a blow, the Spurs have now lost three guards — all-defensive second teamer Dejounte Murray, 2018 first-round pick Lonnie Walker and backup point guard Derrick White — to long-term injuries, leaving the club thin at the position. (Keep in mind that this is all happening mere months after the Spurs allowed forward Kyle Anderson, a capable ball-handler, to sign with Memphis in free agency.)

The Spurs still have a number of key holdovers who are capable of giving opposing teams headaches, including LaMarcus Aldridge, Rudy Gay, Patty Mills and Pau Gasol. And they’ll also have DeMar DeRozan, who came over in the Leonard deal. Coach Gregg Popovich has said that while he and his staff will work to get DeRozan up to speed on the team’s offensive concepts, he won’t try to change his game.

“DeMar is already an All-Star. He’s played a certain way. There’ll be some things we try to add to his game if he’s willing,” Popovich told reporters. “I’m not going to jump on him the way I did [Aldridge]. I tried to turn [Aldridge] into John Havlicek. I think it confused him.” (Aldridge requested a trade two years after joining the Spurs, but the two sides worked the problem out.)

Now, with a limited number of ball-handlers, the club will have to rely on DeRozan to create some looks. Aldridge can shoulder some of that responsibility from the post, too, as he drew more double-teams while posting up than any other player in the league.

What remains worth watching here, given the team’s history, is whether Popovich can squeeze another elite defensive showing out of this unit, despite not having any elite stoppers or rim protectors for once. The Spurs have had an all-defensive team selection in 30 of the past 33 seasons, including each of the past six years.

If San Antonio can cobble together a top-four defensive showing, which it’s done each of the past six seasons, perhaps the Spurs can prove me wrong. But that will be a tall task in light of all these injuries.

How long will Hayward take to jell with the Celtics?

I’m not all that big on analyzing an individual player’s preseason numbers, but I can admit that I was paying some attention to Gordon Hayward’s, given that he’s coming back from an injury.

Those numbers weren’t pretty: 25 percent shooting (5-of-20) for just 21 points in his three games. He showed a little rust on the defensive end at times, too, nearly fouling out of a game against Charlotte. It may take awhile for him to assert himself consistently, but the beauty of his situation is that it’s really not a problem since he plays alongside Kyrie Irving, Jaylen Brown, Jayson Tatum4 and Al Horford.

Hayward’s instincts and timing looked just fine, particularly in screen-roll action with Aron Baynes. Watching their chemistry this early on suggests that Hayward will at some point flourish in his minutes with Horford because of how solid a screener he is.

Hayward has always moved well without the ball and can draw attention from the defense with his cutting ability, so he shouldn’t clash much in terms of role with Tatum or Brown. But if he or one of the other wings isn’t seeing enough shot opportunities, it won’t be difficult to find more time for that player with the second unit. All of that leads me to trust that Boston — even if it doesn’t find a rhythm right away to begin the season — will settle into place over time.

The club had the worst effective field goal percentage among NBA teams this preseason. But given all the time that Irving and Hayward missed, and the time it could take for everyone to settle into the new roles they’ll have to adopt, it shouldn’t be a big deal if the Celtics aren’t hot out of the gate. (Toronto should adopt this philosophy, too, with Leonard.) As long as they’re clicking by midseason — and I don’t doubt that coach Brad Stevens will get them there — they’ll be right where they need to be.

Which teams out West can truly push Golden State?

While the Lakers have to be taken far more seriously now with LeBron, let’s be real here: There are only two or three teams in the West that could realistically make the Warriors uncomfortable in a seven-game series.

We all know Houston should be one of those clubs, if only because of what the Rockets did last postseason, when they pushed Golden State to seven games in the conference finals. They might have won the series if not for Chris Paul’s injury or the biblical 3-point shooting drought they experienced at the worst possible time. Yet while that club almost knocked off Golden State, this one is a little different. Exit Trevor Ariza and Luc Mbah a Moute. Enter Carmelo Anthony (who played well, and was used very well, in preseason), James Ennis and Michael Carter-Williams.

I think Houston’s chances boil down to something relatively simple: If its defense slips past the top 10 as a result of those changes, or finds itself in far more compromising positions after switching this season, it’s hard to see how the Rockets will beat Golden State. The improvement on D was what made them such a tough matchup to begin with, and I fear they might have lost too much on that end to stay on even footing with the Warriors. We’ll see.

The Jazz, on the strength of their stifling, league-best defense, are a compelling pick for many. But just like Houston had to get more consistent on D to make a real run at the West, Utah will likely have to do the same on offense. In particular, the Jazz have struggled to produce steady, consistent offense against such versatile defenses as those of Golden State and Houston, which switch pick-and-rolls repeatedly.

That dovetails with the need for a leap from Donovan Mitchell, who figures to have a greater target on his back after a historically great rookie season at the rim for someone his height. Getting the more aggressive version of Ricky Rubio that we saw in the Oklahoma City series would help Utah’s cause as well.

And while I’m not as high on Oklahoma City — primarily because of the seriousness of Andre Roberson’s injury from last year and his recent rehab setback — I can envision a best-case scenario where the Thunder make noise out West. If Roberson returns anywhere near close to form on defense, he and Paul George would immediately become the best defending wing duo in the league, much like last year. That’s exactly the sort of length you need to effectively defend the best offenses come playoff time. (Looking directly at you, Pelicans.) Also, Nerlens Noel quietly appears to be a great fit at center for OKC’s second-unit defense, while ex-Atlanta guard Dennis Schroder should get ample opportunity to help off the bench — if not start, depending on Russell Westbrook’s status after a recent knee scope.

In a worst-case predicament, either Roberson comes back and isn’t anywhere near as effective or he doesn’t come back at all, limiting this club’s defensive potential — which would be a shame, given that the Thunder probably do have enough scoring to at least hold their own with the conference’s other top dogs. (And they perhaps have fewer questions about offensive fit than last year, when Anthony was on the team.)

It will almost certainly take a Herculean effort to knock off Golden State as the Warriors bid for a three-peat. But there are plenty of other storylines to enjoy in the lead-up to all that.

Check out our latest NBA predictions.

from News About Sports https://fivethirtyeight.com/features/the-6-things-were-watching-this-nba-season/

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flauntpage · 7 years

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What a Toronto Raptors Rebuild Could Look Like

This article originally appeared on VICE Sports Canada.

Of the difficult questions the Toronto Raptors must answer this offseason, the biggest one, the one that stands to shape the direction of their franchise for years to come, is not entirely theirs. Kyle Lowry will become an unrestricted free agent in the coming days, and it's his choice whether to leave or stay—assuming the team wants him—that hangs over everything, the first domino in a complicated chain of decisions the Raptors have to make this offseason.

Should Lowry want to stay, the Raptors then have to decide whether they, too, want to continue the relationship and keep trying to compete with this core. There is a reasonable argument to be made that the Raptors should take a major step back regardless to maximize their chances at winning a championship down the line. There are no right or wrong answers or opinions in the tear-it-down-for-a-title vs. stay-good-and-entertaining debate, so if Lowry stays, you can argue either way.

If Lowry opts to leave, though, there's little sense in running things back. Retaining Serge Ibaka is financially plausible but would stand to more or less cap the team out with a much lower ceiling and little recourse of replacing Lowry, either by position or by talent. The Raptors face a tough call with Lowry and the core in general because they risk getting stuck in the middle, and that's an even greater certainty with a DeMar DeRozan-Ibaka core. That group probably tops out around 45 wins and one playoff series win, and the financial flexibility gained by letting Lowry walk isn't enough to see this group growing to substantially more. Lowry is the team's ceiling, and the tank-or-compete decision is made substantially easier if he leaves.

It's by no means a certainty the Raptors will go this route, and you are justified in hating the idea or loving it—this is a visceral, philosophical question with an answer that will vary by perspective—but if the Raptors were to tear things down, here's what it may look like.

Lowry Walks

Again, the biggest domino is Lowry leaving. Unfortunately for the Raptors, the sign-and-trade option that allowed them to recoup a pair of picks when Chris Bosh departed is a relic of a previous collective bargaining agreement. The sign-and-trade option still exists, but the player involved can no longer receive the extra year his prior team can offer him and the larger raises—Lowry doesn't stand to make a penny more this way than signing as a true free agent. (That the Raptors can offer him up to an estimated $55.1 million more than anyone else remains the reason they're probably still his most likely landing spot.)

That means a team like the Philadelphia 76ers has little reason to surrender an asset to facilitate the move. They can offer him the exact same deal with cap space. A sign-and-trade would only return the Raptors an asset if Lowry wants to land on a team without the full cap space required to sign him, which means Toronto can't necessarily bank on getting something in return. That's tough, but that's the nature of the current collective bargaining agreement.

The Other Free Agents

As covered, it makes little sense to spend to retain Ibaka if Lowry leaves, if Ibaka would even be amenable to that. Keeping P.J. Tucker might then be nice from a culture perspective, but the 32-year-old just spent four seasons in that role with the Phoenix Suns and would probably seek employment on a contender rather than a now-rebuilding Raptors squad. Patrick Patterson might suddenly make sense on a short-term deal to increase his value after a tough end to his 2016-17, but the money he'd command would probably be better spent taking a flier on an upside play.

If the Raptors let all four free agents walk, they would have $81.2 million in salary committed to 11 players and their first-round draft pick, good for about $19.8 million in cap space.

Shop DeRozan

The Raptors might do this quietly because of how much he means to the franchise, but they'd almost certainly try to find a new home for their all-time leading scorer in a rebuilding scenario. DeRozan will turn 28 this summer, and while he's the consummate example-setter the Raptors would want around a young core, the team wouldn't figure to be competitive again until he's on the downside of 30. It could be a case of doing right by the player, too, rather than subjecting him to those tough rebuilding seasons.

With four years and $111 million left on his deal (the fourth year is a player option), DeRozan isn't the easiest of trade chips to make work, but because he signed slightly below the max before the final cap spike, he only stands to take up about 27 percent of a team's cap rather than the 35 percent full-max free agents can command. He's not a perfect fit for the modern NBA with a middling 3-point stroke and shaky defense. He's also the league's best mid-range scorer, is coming off the most efficient scoring season of his career on incredibly high usage, has taken strides as a playmaker, and seems to get better every year.

Photo by Jeff Hanisch-USA TODAY Sports

Who might want him is complicated, and Raptors fans dreaming on a top-five pick in return probably need to recalibrate. Magic Johnson wants a star to build the Los Angeles Lakers around and Nike would surely love a player who modeled himself after Kobe Bryant while growing up in Compton returning home to take over not just Bryant's team but also his sneaker legacy. But DeRozan isn't a tidy fit with head coach Luke Walton's style and the Lakers already have a few young guards they're building around (and, if they keep their pick, could draft another in June). Charlotte, Dallas, Denver, and the Knicks are all varying degrees of interesting, and if the Raptors floated his name, there would surely be offers.

Trading one of the best players in franchise history is tough. DeRozan is too good to keep, though, in terms of assets left on the table and because he'd raise the team's level of play too high to truly tank.

Other Trade Chips

Toronto could try to trade pretty much whoever isn't nailed down and young, but the options are fairly limited. Cory Joseph could be dealt easily but is still just 25 and on a good deal for at least one more year. DeMarre Carroll's contract becomes less burdensome if the team isn't in the tax, and it might make more sense to try to let him rebound rather than using the stretch provision on him in this case. Jonas Valanciunas might still be deemed superfluous given the other centers on the roster, and at 25 and with some theoretical untapped upside could have a market. But his value is probably at a nadir with the center market as flooded as it is, so he, too, might make more sense as a hold.

The Raptors already have seven players on their first contracts plus a pick incoming. They would probably want to keep at least two or three of their remaining veterans around as culture-builder and stop-gap minutes-eaters, at least while their value is rehabilitated.

Free Agents to Chase

With just shy of $20 million in potential cap space, and substantially more if DeRozan was dealt without taking significant salary back, the Raptors could take a flier or two on younger free agents with upside. This summer's market isn't exceptionally flush, and the Raptors wouldn't want to tie up too much money with a handful of players hitting restricted free agency in 2018 (including Norman Powell), but they might not keep their powder dry entirely.

Among names who would fit the timeline, aren't centers, and have some degree of upside depending on the price, are Otto Porter, Kentavious Caldwell-Pope, Tony Snell, Tim Hardaway Jr., Shabazz Muhammad, Andre Roberson, Joe Ingles, and a bunch more. The RFA class is pretty deep, though it obviously comes with complications and the ability for other teams to match offer sheets.

And there's Dion Waiters. Obviously.

Dwane Casey's Status

Whether or not the Raptors will trust head coach Dwane Casey to carry out their "culture reset" is somewhat unclear. There's more of a case to be made for it if the Raptors are staying competitive. If they're tearing down and rebuilding, it may make sense to shift in another direction with a fresh voice with player development experience. Whether that's someone on the staff (Nick Nurse or Rex Kalamian), an outside hire, or the promotion of Jerry Stackhouse following an immensely successful season with Raptors 905, the coaching chair would almost definitely be under evaluation. Taking the chance on Stackhouse, who is going to be an NBA head coach one way or another at some point, would seem the best path in a rebuild.

Photo by John E. Sokolowski-USA TODAY Sports

Looking Ahead

Here's where the realities of a teardown kind of sink in. This isn't a sure thing, and it's not a quick fix. Tanking, or whatever you want to call it (does a "strategic step back" work?), is the best way of acquiring a superstar on balance of probability, and acquiring a superstar is the best way to compete for a championship. Really, though, the odds are still quite slim—you can tank and lose the lottery multiple years in a row (even finishing dead last, the chances of landing the No. 1 pick are just 25 percent), you can be hit by injury luck, things can break right but the timing is off or you make the wrong call (shout out to Primo pasta and sauce), or everything can go well and you still find yourself in the same position Toronto's been in the last two years, with a very good team trying to make the jump to great.

The Raptors would probably be looking at two seasons in the mud, at a minimum. They might be able to land an extra first-round pick in the 2017 draft, but it probably won't be a top one. The draft is strong, though, so maybe Toronto comes out of it with two more solid building blocks. With the league light on tanking teams in the near-term, Toronto's path to a high pick in 2018 might be an easy one, and Chad Ford has called the top of the 2018 draft "spectacular" (with a drop-off after the top tier). Local product R.J. Barrett is currently the No. 1 recruiting prospect for the college class of 2019 (2020 draft class) but could reclassify for 2018, which would put him in line to be a high pick in 2019. You can almost see the #GrinAndBarrett hashtag starting to trend in Toronto.

You can start to see why some like this approach. Draft talk is exciting, and prospects are fun. With strong leadership, it's easy to buy into a long-term outlook and trust the process. It's hard, though. About as hard as the position the Raptors find themselves in if they want to compete, just different. It means at least a few years of being bad, trusting you'll develop talent well, banking on a few breaks in timing and ping-pong balls and health, and hoping it all doesn't just lead you right back to this same spot.

What a Toronto Raptors Rebuild Could Look Like published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv

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