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mauricemylittlemeowmeow · 6 months ago

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L'ENFANT REVIEW!!!

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The best staging I've seen of L'enfant et les sortileges so far!!! I cried, I laughed (the cat scene!!!), I cried again. The direction of this was so fucking sublime and added so much depth to the story that I've only ever seen on this staging. And the singing!!! It's really good!!!

In depth review of each song/scene below!!

Opening

Ok so in the opening, we see the child staring into the mirror with bloody hands and it adds a sinister flavour to his character. This kid IS naughty (or however you translate mechant) and from the get go with how he's presented, we already see his cruel nature.

The costuming for this production is VERY meticulous. Yes, it's a student production so of course the budget is limited, but the direction is so brilliant that they work on the costuming to build on storytelling rather than pure aesthetics.

Enter Maman, and we see her in what looks to be a uniform. This is significant because all characters from the first act are dressed as her. Her presence is felt all throughout the opera.

Chair and sofa

!!! The choreography for this song is so good! This is also the first appearance of the furniture and it was really surprising to see both of them dressed as Maman—both the male and female role!

The choreography is definitely my favourite part for this one. It mixes in well with the song beats and really characterises them well!

Clock

The fire

Really enjoyed the direction on this one in regards to the costuming. Liked the way the clock picked up the pieces of himself that the child broke and put it back on his (the singer's) body. Thought it was real neat!!

Coffee mug and teacup

(breath of relief no blackface)

THE GAG IS FUNNY!!! they put marmalade on the child's face and made him eat a sandwich from it 😭😭 and the nonsense japanese??? they actually tried to make it make sense??? at the "harakiri" part, the teacup picked up a knife and dragged it across the child's neck (not the stomach but close enough)

very threatening but also slapstick-y. it's nice!!! almost makes me forget how lowkey racist this song is lmao (the no blackface helps a lot and i try to turn my brain off for the nonsense asian babbling)

!!! The orchestration for this is limited (a piano, a cello, and a flute only, I believe) so each note of the aria really stood out!! There were times I was tense because of how difficult the song was but the singer delivered it really well and without any obvious faults!! The direction for the last part was really tense!! In other stagings of this opera, you see the flames grow more sinister towards the end before fading away, but in this one, she was dying and in pain and it was very apparent!! It felt very heavy in a way that it doesn't in other productions.

Really intense, I liked it a lot!!

Shepherds

I cried at this one because holy shit!!!

Instead of a storybook, the shepherds are shown to be from what looks like a family portrait which makes this all the more intense. With everyone dressed as Maman, it felt like the entire family ancestry was disappointed at the child for ruining and destroying their lineage.

This is usually sung in chorus but with the limited cast, it was more of a duet with the other Maman-furniture joining in on the choral hums. It was still a good rendition though!

With the added interpretation, it felt like one of the heaviest and most moving performances of this song I've seen. It's not just characters from a storybook. This is the child ruining his family by being a terrible son.

The princess

OK I'm gonna reach a little bit for the interpretation here but holy shit this scene also made me cry.

So throughout most of the opera so far, the child has been fixated on one of the props which is a mirror. Most of the props in the set relate to each furniture but there was never a mirror in the original libretto so I was a bit 🤔🤔🤔 at its presence.

After the shepherds leave, the child returns to the mirror to look at his reflection. The mirror pulls away from its frame and reveals the princess. Her upper half seen within the frame is in a sequined top fit for her role, but the lower half outside of it is still in Maman's uniform like the rest of the furniture.

My brain was like "oh it must be significant that she appeared from the mirror" and here's my personal interpretation for it:

The princess, the child's first love, appears in a mirror where he sees himself. She's still dressed similar to his mother. He sees his mother in his features, and his first love is someone who reminds him of his mother and that adds a really bittersweet flavour to it. The child loves his mother a lot!! He's still a boy!!!

Interpretation aside, singing was great, and it's funny how they directed her to disappear via the trapdoor as if she was being pulled back into where the mirror used to be.

Arithmetics

!! This part is usually sung with a children's chorus but the cast is all made up of conservatory students so it was interesting to hear the chorus part sung with adults. Nice change of pace!!

Also on the costuming: Arithmetics is still dressed as Maman but!! The chorus is dressed as the child!! All of them were wearing the same outfit (albeit in a shade more similar to the mother's uniform so you could still differentiate the child) and it was interesting to see how chaotic they were!! (really enjoyed the student who played the Shepherd going wild and dancing lmao)

I also liked Arithmetic's pointing stick. In the milimetre, centimetre, decametre part, he was smacking it on his hand in time with the music and I liked the beat it provided! Very cool!

Cats

Cats.

Costuming was interesting. Probably the only one that was distinct throughout the entire production. Which is fair because. Cats.

Each cat wore a shirt that looked like a cat's eye. The effect was really cool in the dark stage where it looked like it was glowing. And with both cats together, it looked like one whole giant cat!!

Laughed because at the end/climax of the song, the singers just literally started tearing their clothes off. The female cat was in her bra, the male cat was unzipping his trousers and taking them off but thank god they went off stage and it went black before it escalated further.

Good direction. Maurice and Colette were insane for that part so I'm glad it was portrayed with the same unhingedness.

Act 2

im gonna be real w u, i cannot for the life of me remember the animals in part 2 so i cant separate each scene well lmao.

the scene has moved to outside of the house so we are finally free of Maman! The costumes aren't her uniform anymore!! These are insects and animals instead of symbolism and motifs now yippee

I don't really have as much to say. (But yes it was good!!!) I was quite confused at the dragonfly scene (Ou es tu? Je te cherche) because why was she carrying a giant rock lmao.

In the pre "Il est sage" scene where the child faints and the animals gather to be like "He dressed the wound! What was it he said? Maman?", I really liked how well the singers' voices blended together! These students are very good singers and they breathed so much life into the production!!! Especially with the limited orchestration, the quality of their singing really stood out!!

During the "He is wise" scene, the child wakes up from the animals chanting Maman and starts putting the set back together. I'm gonna be real I was nervous because I didn't know if he was going to make it in time before the opera ended (the set was really torn apart by the child lol) but the animals helped so it was all put together well before the end!!

And the ending!!! The ending for l'enfant is always special to me because it's a boy calling out for his mother!!!

In other productions, you'll see the mother return to embrace him or you'll see her shadow on the set. She's almost always present during the ending.

In this one, the boy cleans up the set and then returns to his desk in the beginning to work on his pages. But before he does, he flips over the chalkboard used during the Arithmetics scene and on the other side of the math equations was an entire board of what looked to be penmanship practice with one word written over and over again:

"Maman"

That made me cry. This entire production is so saturated with the love between a mother and a child. And that's what l'enfant is about. In the house, her presence was felt everywhere. And once outside, she's nowhere to be seen. The opera ends with the child having reflected and returning, reciprocating the love that she shows to him.

Idk man I really love L'enfant and this production was swag. Best interpretation I've seen so far. (Alongside the ballet production ofc but that's bc I love ballet 😎)

#Long review #Beware of the read more #I really liked this production lmao #Maurice Ravel #L'enfant et les sortileges #Opera #(personal tags ->)#I watch theatre #Maurice tag #Youtube

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aroninshonour · 3 months ago

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ALRIGHT BRO @fruity-legos

I'm so glad u wanna listen to this rheheheh 🤭🤭

I'm gonna split this into some parts btw so as not to keep you waiting too long -

Gonna put yap session #1 under a cut cuz I have a feeling this'll get lengthy lmao (aka I'll probably end up explaining more than intended...not sorry)

Gonna start with the basic thing of...What is Mouthwashing? Mouthwashing is a first-person psychological horror game that follows 5 (five) crew members of the freighter spaceship Tulpar. A 'mysterious' crash leaves them stranded in space, entirely trapped with limited supplies.

So, who are these crew members?

We got:

👹Swansea👹: The ships maintenance guy, mechanic basically.

MY SWEET KINDA DUMB BOY DAISUKE🥺🧡: He's an mechanic intern under the supervision of Swansea :3

✨️Anya✨️: Anya's the nurse of the crew! In charge of all things medical. Psych evaluations included.

🖕Jimmyyyy🖕: The main protagonist. He's the primary character we play as in the game. He's the 'co-'pilot of the Tulpar ship, in charge of navigation and taking the captains spot in the case of emergency.

😎CAPTAIN CURLYYY😎: The original captain of the Tulpar prior to the crash and Jimmy taking over. He is the other character we play as on occasion.

Now...where does it start? (I'm gonna write this in chonological order by the way, so it won't be in the same order the game has it in.)

7 days before the Crash.

Curly and Anya are doing a psych evalv. Curlys having sleeping troubles. (Perhaps something is on his mind?)

Anya says the last person she needs to evaluate is Jimmy, though she doesn't seem to really want too. She said he doesn't take them seriously. To Anya's relief, Curly offers to do the evalv for her, being that the two are long time associates and Curly was the one who introduced Jimmy to this whole ordeal in the first place.

Anya also let's Curly know that Swansea, the Tulpars mechanic, is looking for him.

Curly then goes to the utility room, briefly talking to Jimmy on the way there about Daisuke being a late addition to the ship and why there's only 4 cyrostasous(no idea if I spelled that right) pods rather than 5. Those pods can be used to keep the crew asleep for up to 20 years in the event of an emergency.

Once at the utility room, We find Daisuke stuck in a bunch of foam that the ship automatically dispenses in emergency to prevent holes from opening up into space. Daisuke had accidentally triggered it trying to repair a broken ventilation shaft. Curly is the only one who can get the axe to cut him out so he does that and leaves the axe with Swansea.

Then Curly goes to the cockpit to do Jimmy's evalv. Jimmy reveals that he likes being co-pilot due to the feeling of control he gets from him.(not concerning at all). Curly reveals he feels unsatisfied, wanting to achieve more than just being a good captain. Though he also fears leaving his crew behind and starting over, that status he worked so hard to reach. I won't go into too much detail of their conversation though...

After that whole convo Jimmy leaves and Curly receives a letter from corporate, a letter we can't read in game.

Then we cut to an out of reality scene...there's a small box TV. It displays a multitude of different ..."shows", if you will. Then it gets to an add for "DragonBreath Mouthwash" and how it kills 99.9% of germs and a doctor should be consulted before, during, and after use. (This company clearly don't give a shit abt the effects of this stuff...like dang it's just mouthwash bro 😭😭)

6 days before the crash.

WOOO CURLYS BIRTHDAY PARTY!! The crew gets one day a year to celebrate something and they chose Curly, how sweet! (Though Curly does have to make the cake himself since he's the captain...) Unfortunately though, high spirits were brought down when Curly decided that now was a good time to tell that that Pony Express(the company they work for) is fucking firing ALL OF THEM, except Curly, once this one mission is done.

Jimmy immediately starts taking anger out on Curly, regardless of him having no control over this. He also starts berating each member one by one and just does not acknowledge Curlys own pain over the situation.

2 days before the crash.

Anya and Curly sit before the big screen in the lounge. She points out a dead pixal in the upper right corner, saying it's always in the back of her mind somewhere. Curly however just brushes ut by, claiming that one little issue won't ruin the illusion. Anya then questions how many days there are left of transport. 8 months. She then questions why theres locks in the medical supplies but not the sleeping quarters...Curly responds with a simple answer. Same reason why theres a lock on the cockpit...Safety.

1 day before the crash.

Curly starts in the medbay, realizing the locked gun case is gone...He quickly goes to find Anya, who is in the cockpit in a panicked state.

Anya then reveals that she is pregnant, and GUESS WHO THE MOTHERFLIPPING FATHER IS? YEAH. JIMMY. (THAT PIECE OF SHIT)

Anya wasn't able to protect herself, no locks on the dorms, no weapons either. She was assulted by Jimmy, how many times is unclear.

Anya says she's hidden the gun case, that if she can't get the gun then she at least going to keep him from getting to it. (Only the captain is able to open it with a code only the captain knows.)

Curly says he'd do anything to help protect her, but he wouldn't even give her the gun to protect herself. No, Curly's first proposition is to just talk it out with Jimmy. He refuses to stop believing that Jimmy can be better...

0 days before the crash.

Anya told Jimmy she was pregnant, received a not so good response, is now in clear distress. Curly, trying to take responsibility over the sitation again, just tries talking to Jimmy again.

Curly tells him that he will fix everything, knowing Jimmy will be charged when they land. By now Jimmys got the mindset of a ticking Doomsday bomb, even expressing desire to just end everything now by crashing the ship so nothing has to come to light and they can all just be victims of a horrible accident.

He tells Curly that he'd loose his status if they landed anyways, since he'd allowed the situation to even get this far. Jimmy continues pushing the responsibility for what he did unto others. Curly infact did fail as a captain too by not truly taking Anya's concerns and safety into account. He really did just ignore the overall issues. At this point both parties have some sort of involvement of guilt in the situation.

At this point Jimmy decides crashing the ship is the best option. Tells Curly he'll fix everything and then turns around to go to the cockpit. Curly didn't even really try to stop him, almost as if he didn't fully understand what was about to happen. He let Jimmy fully enter the cockpit, turns autopilot off and sets the ship towards an asteroid, dooming all of them.

Alarms are blaring.

Curly finally realized what just happened.

He runs to the cockpit in an attempt to stop it, far too late though. His body takes the brunt of the impact.

Jimmy, running through the halls, is hallucinating being chased by the company's mascot, Polle. (Weewoo alerttttt! Jimmys mentally unstable WOOOAAH who could've guess that...)

Okay ima leave this reblog here cuz I don't wanna keep you waiting for too long and it's already been like 2 hours LMFAOOFBANFJW 💀💀

Anywho that's basically everything before/during the crash 😋😋

Next reblog may not be in as much detail...this took a bit of time to write so... yeeeeeeeeee - some parts might others may not idk LMAO

Yap session 1, completed 😎

I'm bored can you Yap about the plot/lore of mouthwashing or something

Let me sob in the bathroom and do the dishes first but YES I CAN AND WILL JUST GIVE ME LIKE. Idk however long it'll take me to type anything out after I finish my chores

I'LL PUT IT IN A REBLOG THO !!! 😋😋

#WOOO YAY YAP SESSION 1 COMPLETED #Also tw for SA mentions.#I'm gonna continue writing the next bit now ! YAY !!#it may or may not be longer than this one lmao #My fingers started cramping while I was typing this by the way 💀💀

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taberdoodle · 2 years ago

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Stu Doodles

this is a masterpost of all the just singular Stu pics I think i have more stickynotes, but i dont have them on hand atm

#stu cassidy #mdhm #mydearhatchetman #mdhmstu #my dear hatchet man #tabbsart #tabbsart2022 #I REACHED THE LIMIT I WAS JUST GONNA ADD ONE MORE LMAO #SO LIKE I TOLD YA'LL I HAD AN OBSESSION WITH THIS MAN #HEAR IS NEARLY A YEARS WORTH OF DOODLES OF HIM #AND THERE STILL IS TECHNICALLY MORE I HAVEN'T SHOWN #oops

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t-h-i-n-g · 2 years ago

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max or el w 32 please?

a/n: Ello, I picked El for this just so I could add Hopper LMAO. I hope you like it

word count: 700+

200 followers event masterlist

32. "Is that my shirt?"

"No touching," he grumbled.

"No touching," you repeated, nodding your head.

"I want a foot of space between the two of you at all times." You raised a brow at him, but the stern look on his face changed your mind from protesting otherwise.

"One foot, twelve inches, got it."

"I don't want you to kiss, hug, cuddle, or even look at her while you're in my house."

"Really Hop? No looking?" His brows furrowed even deeper. An uncomfortable silence passed between the two of you before said man sighed in defeat.

"Fine, I guess you can look at her. But for no longer than 20 seconds tops." You rolled your eyes before helplessly agreeing.

"Alright, alright I get it. I can't touch and only look-"

"For 20 seconds."

"Yes, 20 seconds, but let's say she comes up and hugs me. Then what?" Hopper was stumped at the question. Not really thinking about the part that El would be willing to be close to you.

"They'll be a limit to that too," he simply stated. "Also, I want the door open three inches when you're in her room. If it gets closed at any time, you lose room privileges."

"What does that mean?" You questioned.

"Means that you gotta come out here and can't leave."

"Not even for the bathroom?"

"Well obviously you can go to the bathroom. I'm a father not a monster, Y/n." You giggled lightly, leaning back into the cushions of the couch.

El had finally convinced Jim to let you stay the night. You'd think fighting interdimensional monsters together would have his trust towards you a little more solid but apparently not when it came to his daughter.

Speaking of his daughter she was currently changing into something more comfortable. You had done so previously and were guessing Eleven got some kind of talk just like you did while you were elsewhere. Just a less intimidating version of what you experienced.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna let you do any of it when I am here."

"You do realize me and El do all of what you said when you're not here right?" Hopper snarled at the thought.

"Fair enough," you shrugged. Just then the door opened to reveal your lovely lover herself. A light smirk grew on your features as you stood, approaching her. Taking the fabric that covered her torso between your fingers. "Is that my shirt?" You questioned in a mumbled.

"What did I just say? One foot," Hopper scolded, pointing at you while you threw your hands up in surrender taking a step back. He entered the kitchen, disappearing momentarily from view.

"You left it over when you got soaked from the water balloon fight we had with the others," she explained, taking your hand and whisking you away into her room. You hummed in response, smiling lightly.

*I'm glad I did. It looks good on you." A blush grew on her cheeks as she whispered a small 'thank you.'

The both of you sprawled out across her sheets. El laid near where you positioned yourself on your stomach. Your head rested on your crossed arms while you stared at her quietly. She reached out and brushed her thumb across her cheeks.

"What would you like to do?" Eleven asked. You shrugged.

"It doesn't matter to me. Whatever you want I'll be okay with." A smile slowly grew on her face as an idea struck her. She got up from her bed and scanned across a shelf. Pulling out an object wich she then presented to you to reveal a comic.

"Max got me this a couple of weeks ago. Could you… could you read it to me please?" You grabbed the papers from her nodding.

"Sure sounds good." Her features lit up and she placed a gentle kiss on your lips in thanks.

"What did I say, L/n? No kissing!" Hopper hollered, his head peeking through the doorway.

"I didn't do the kissing. She kissed me," you defended. Eleven giggled and settled next to your side as you open up to the first page.

"Then pull away when she does that. El you know what I said, no smooching."

"Sorry," she replied meekly. Hopper's grumbles were heard from behind the door frame. While you started with the first line...

#200 followers #jane hopper fanfiction #jane hopper x yn #jane hopper x y/n #jane hopper x you #jane hopper x reader #eleven imagine #eleven x yn #eleven x y/n #eleven x you #eleven x reader

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dreaded-jabot · 3 years ago

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uhm uhm roleswap narumitsu or a no-dl6 au?

Hi anon. Hope you’re well!

IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING UHHHH ALMOST 10 MONTHS TO ANSWER BUT I HOPE THE SHEER AMOUNT OF CONTENT MAKES UP FOR IT SO BUCKLE YOUR BELTS AND SEATBELTS THIS IS GONNA BE LONG

Phoenix was in and out of the foster care system. At age 6 he finally found a ‘forever home’ (that makes him sound like a dog lmao), and by the time he was 9 he’d gotten very attached to this lovely new family, and the adoption papers had just been finalized. His new mom was a defense attorney and his dad a courtroom sketch artist. Instead of Gregory going against Manfred, his mom did. She made Manfred get a penalty, and then to add insult to injury that one courtroom sketch artist in the stands made a joke about it at Manfred’s expense that the whole courtroom laughed at. So Manfred swore revenge, and once he saw the sketch artist and the defense attorney were married with a son he came up with a plan.

The elevator scene played out almost exactly like it did in canon, except that Yanni Yogi got found guilty and went to prison. But here’s the catch. In the elevator, Phoenix saw Yanni Yogi pass out. Phoenix and his mother were still awake. And then some stuff happens I don’t know what but it happens. There is a plot hole here somewhere. Phoenix’s mother died and Phoenix was left with that trauma TM.

Phoenix’s foster dad had run home immediately after dropping Phoenix off in the courtroom lobby with his mom for some semi-important reason idk why (maybe to make dinner maybe he need to get important documents proving that manfred has falsified evidence who knows).

After the elevator scene, Manfred had got shot but still needed to kill Phoenix’s dad, so he enlisted the help of an assassin.

Yes, that assassin. Shelley de Killer.

The dead body of Phoenix’s dad was found in their house. But there was no calling card with a shell on it found.

Manfred took Phoenix in and Phoenix, whose parent’s murders were never solved, made it his life’s goal to get to the bottom of every case. Once he found decisive evidence, he was satisfied. Phoenix became extremely vengeful and angry.

By becoming a prosecutor, Phoenix believed he could solve his parent’s murders and lock their murderers away. Manfred took advantage of this, sometimes feeding him fake decisive evidence during his ‘Bratnix’ years (‘Bratnix’ is his Bratworth equivalent era).

Once Edgeworth comes into the picture in 1-2, Phoenix is (internally) like “What the FUCK are you doing here?”

By case 1-3, (maybe a bit externally) “What the FUCK are you doing?”

By case 1-4, (externally and trying to keep it internally) “WHAT THE FUCK??!??”

“Do you seriously think you can just waltz in here with your cute little bow tie and ruin everything I’ve worked for? Listen to me, Miles Edgeworth. Stay out of my way.” (unnecessary feelings)

At some point in the first game he started keeping a board filled with sticky notes and pictures and newspaper articles on and of Edgeworth. He gets extremely embarrassed when people at the prosecutors office tease him about it. The board is in a corner of his office, hidden under a curtain/sheet thing.

When Phoenix does the “Prosecutor Phoenix Wright Chooses Death” thing he goes on a cross-country road trip in his fancy sports car, and once he reaches New York he charters a flight to take him and his car to Europe, and continues road tripping there.

He praises Edgeworth inside his head and to some other people as the man that taught him to question everything to find the answer, and not take cases at face value. After this trip and throughout the rest of the games he becomes a much more agreeable and happy person.

He can be seen waltzing into the Edgeworth and Co. law offices frequently

And now for some messy outfit designs:

I saw that waistcoat design on Pinterest and was immediately like that’s it that’s the one

And now sadly I have hit the 10 image limit SO expect another post with everything else

Everything for this au will be under the tag ‘aa roleswap au’

#ace attorney #my art #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #narumitsu #aa roleswap au

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cake-writes · 4 years ago

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Earn It

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: filthy smut, ANAL (yes reader is 100% that bitch), kinda-sorta dubcon due to alcohol, praise kink, pain kink (yes reader is also 100% that bitch), safe word mention (not used), subtle D/s undertones, begging, degradation, count down, squirting, 18+

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: so you can blame my darlings @mandalorianspace and @buckybarnesplumwhore for this one. THANKS A LOT. 💀 also I could not be fucked with the ending so lmao sorry but the smut is just more important here, okay???

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

You’re on your hands and knees in front of your boyfriend of two years, side of your face pressed into the sheets – and although you can’t see him, you can hear the roughness in his voice, feel his callused fingertips dig into the flesh of your ass as he spreads your cheeks apart.

Despite how long you’ve been together, though, it’s unfamiliar.

“Bucky,” you gasp as his vibranium thumb smooths over your puckered hole. “Please fuck my ass, please—”

The tip of his thumb slides in, and you shiver.

“You’re so tight, honey,” Bucky warns, voice low, bordering on dangerous. “Sure you can handle it?”

You take his warning as a challenge, of course you do, but you don’t miss the slight note of concern in his tone. You’ve done anal before, just not with him because you’ve always been so intimidated by how thick he is. Even told him that once a long time ago. Funny story, that.

Right now, however, you’re high on endorphins and drunk on too many shots of tequila to care.

“Yeah,” you respond breathily. “I need it. Baby, please.”

You’re eager, so much that you barely notice when he replaces his thumb with a finger until it sinks further inside than the former could ever reach. Just one finger leaves you gasping, never mind two as he stretches you open even more.

“Bucky,” you whine, wiggling your hips, impatient and needy. Two fingers isn’t nearly enough preparation considering how long it’s been since you had it last, but you want him. You want him so fucking badly, and he’s taking too long.

As if on cue, a third finger presses inside and you hiss at the burn. It’s a reminder that you shouldn’t rush, but you want it. You need it.

“Fuck me,” you plead, reaching back to spread your cheeks apart so he doesn’t have to. “If it won’t fit, then make it fit. I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

Bucky stops, three fingers buried knuckle-deep in your ass, to stare at you – not that you even notice, because you’re already so fucking gone for it. You do hear a hint of surprise in his voice when he asks after a too-long pause, slowly, teasingly pulling his fingers out, “What’s our safe word?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve done a scene, and you breathe, “Peaches.”

“Good girl.”

After a playful smack to your ass, Bucky releases you to retrieve the bottle of lube from your nightstand. You pull your head up off the sheets to peer back at him, heartbeat pounding in your ears as he pops open the bottle.

There’s something about the way his skin seems to glow in the warm lamplight, or maybe it’s the way his hair falls so perfectly into that pretty face of his; or how, when his eyes meet yours, dark and teasing, you feel yourself get even wetter at his approach.

Anticipation.

The lube is cold and wet as it drips down the crack of your ass and onto the bed. Some small part of you is thankful that he had the foresight to lay down a towel, but the thought is quickly forgotten when he holds the tip of his cock against your hole.

You think you’re ready. You’re beyond ready.

It's slick, ridiculously so, the way the head pops in without a hitch – but it’s a beautiful stretch, one that stings just enough to make your legs quake. You bite down on your lower lip because it feels good, too. Too good. Too right.

A whimper escapes your throat when Bucky presses in further, because that’s when it starts to hurt a little bit more – but you don’t use your safe word, because maybe you want it to hurt. Or maybe you just want him balls-deep inside you so badly that you don’t care. Or maybe that’s the tequila talking.

You assume he’s about halfway in when he withdraws almost all of the way to spread the slickness further. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I—”

Your affirmation is promptly cut off with a moan when he slides back inside, a little further than before, but that’s where he seems to get stuck. Not in the literal sense of the word, but your channel just can’t seem to take any more of him no matter how gently he tries to ease inside. You’re just too tight.

“Hurry, baby,” you whine. “Please.”

You’re already being stretched to the limit, and it burns in the best of ways, but you want him inside. You need it.

The warmth of his palm on your ass cheek is a balm as Bucky mutters to himself, “Make it fit, huh.”

And that’s when you know you’ve made a mistake, because he lets go of your hair to grab your hips – but before you can stammer out your concerns, he slams all the way inside, punching the breath from your lungs. You swear you actually see stars because it hurts, fuck, it hurts, but hell if you don’t love it all the same. You swear aloud, too; a string of filthy curses escapes your lips as your back arches, hands balling in the sheets below.

With Bucky so fully seated inside of your ass, you quickly realize that he couldn’t have been anywhere close to halfway before. He’s just too big, too thick, you’re not ready—

But no safe word. Not yet. It hurts too good.

His body cages yours in from behind, but all you can focus on is the searing stretch of his cock deep inside of you. He’s pressing gentle kisses to your shoulder and whispering sweet nothings against your skin, perhaps meant to be a distraction, and it helps a little.

“Fuck me,” you rasp. Your pussy is drenched and he hasn’t even started moving yet. “Baby, please, I can’t—”

You can’t even think, let alone form a coherent sentence, but he understands just fine. His withdrawal is almost as bad as the entry – but that perfect pain twists and warps into some semblance of pleasure within your masochistic brain as he starts a slow, gentle rhythm, one that has your eyes rolling back.

“Look at you, honey,” Bucky whispers, one hand smoothing down your back, cool vibranium meant to soothe, “Taking every fucking inch.” His praise has your core clenching around nothing, but it makes your ass tighten up, too, makes him groan out, “Good girl. God, you’re so good for me.”

“Y–Yeah,” is all you can manage to respond with, because your mind is blissfully blank.

There’s another pause as Bucky adds a little more lube, and then he’s pulling your arms back, dropping your face back onto the sheets – but that’s fine by you because you’re practically drooling anyway, and when he picks up the pace, you actually do drool. He stops being gentle because he knows you can take it, knows you’ll use your safe word if you have to, and the feeling of him pounding your poor abused ass into oblivion only sends you higher.

Mindless babbles and pleas leave your mouth on an endless loop; you don’t know what you’re even saying anymore, other than yes, yes, yes. Your knees slide further apart from his onslaught, which changes the angle just enough for him to slam into your sweet spot.

“I’m— Bucky, I’m gonna—”

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to implode, ready for him to put you out of your misery.

“Not yet,” he orders. “Wait for me.”

The sheer command in his voice makes you clench up again, because it’s near-impossible to stave off the inevitable. The pain’s given way to pure, unbridled pleasure at this point, and it teases your undoing, makes you so fucking desperate to come that tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s adrenaline. It’s delirium. Your voice goes hoarse begging him to fill you up, to give it to you, to let you come, please, baby, please—

“Oh, honey,” Bucky coos, tone patronizing, smoothing your hair from your face. “You wanna come so bad, don’t you?”

“Please let me come,” you beg, not even caring anymore what a state you must look: face hot, flushed, tears staining your cheeks, saliva smeared down your chin and on the sheets. “Please, please, please—”

Each ‘please’ is punctuated with another slam of his hips until two of his fingers are in your mouth, digging into your cheek, stifling any further pleas; not that you don’t continue to try. Muffled, incomprehensible moans are all that come out.

“Too bad. You’ve gotta earn it.”

That’s when he finally lets go and buries his hand in your hair instead, to push and pull you as he pleases, use you however he likes.

“So fucking desperate—” Bucky slaps your ass hard with his vibranium hand and you jerk in surprise – not that you mind, because it feels so fucking good. “Had to shove it in ‘cause you’re such a needy little slut, isn’t that right, honey? So now you’re gonna take it, just like you asked for.”

As if it’s not hard enough to hold back, now he wants to talk to you like that?

“Bucky, please—” You’re sobbing with desperation as he pulls your hair back by the roots. “Please, I can’t, I can’t—”

You’re like a broken record, but you’re pretty sure it’s your brain that’s broken because you just can’t comprehend anything anymore. You feel like you’re floating, almost, ready to combust but you’re just not allowed to, yet.

“I’m gonna count down,” Bucky tells you, voice strained, and you know then that he must be close. “Three.”

Vibranium fingertips dig into your hipbone, hard enough to leave bruises, and he uses the tighter grip to pull you back harder onto his cock.

“Two.”

Sloppy wet sounds echo through the room as he slams into you with a more frenzied, albeit uneven pace.

“One.”

And then he angles his hips just so, aiming for your sweet spot once again which he successfully hits, over and over and over until finally, finally—

“Let go. Let me feel you.”

In an instant, your body tenses up like a live wire as you reach your peak with a strangled cry, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids in what’s probably one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. He’s never made you hold out for so long, never made you beg this much before, but it’s certainly done something for you if the sudden gush of wetness between your legs is any indication.

“Christ, sweetheart—”

Bucky shoves in as far as he can go, and you feel a sudden burst of warmth deep inside as he fills up your ass just like you begged for. Aftershocks have your body spasming as his cock pulses inside of you, once, twice, three times, four—

And then his grip goes lax, on both your hair and your hip, and your scalp aches painfully but not nearly as much as your backside. It stings and burns as he slowly pulls out, gently massaging your lower back as he does: another welcome distraction.

The head of his dick slips out with a distinct pop, and you whimper. If it’s because of the loss or because of the pain, you’re not sure but either way you’re definitely going to feel it in the morning.

Pulling some wet wipes from your bedside table, Bucky attempts to carefully clean you up, but you’re already so sore so you take it from him and do it yourself.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, continuing to rub your back. “Did I hurt you? Was it too much?”

You give him a dopey smile. “Yeah. But it was worth it.”

Bucky snorts. “Sometimes I think you like the pain a little too much.”

Then he presses a kiss to your forehead, to which you let out a sleepy hum of approval. You love his aftercare, you really do, but today a cuddle is more than enough. The two of you lay together on the bed as he strokes your hair, and when you fall asleep, Bucky thinks to himself, well, you definitely earned it.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #earn it

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jean-kayak · 4 years ago

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Three Strikes

Summary: You find another guy to have fun over the summer (please just read it, I’m bad with summaries)

Pairing: Matsukawa Issei x black!fem!reader x Iwaizumi Hajime

Word Count: 3,068

Warnings: (smut 18+!!), unprotected sex, spit roasting, fingering (f.receiving), minor anal fingering, throat fucking, oral sex (m.receiving), little bit of exhibitionism, threesome, and a very pissed off Makki

A/N: This fic is a continuation/part 2 of Highlight of the Summer, and tbh I just wanted to write Mattsun again and this was all I could think about, I just might write a part 3 LMAO

PART ONE//PART THREE

Hiro wasn't really too fond of the fact that you and Mattsun were sleeping together and making this a regular occurrence. The first strike happened when you decided to be a brat and constantly tease Mattsun.

You were sitting on Matsukawa's lap, your face buried in his neck while your holding a blanket over the two of you with a tight grip. "Makki hurry up it's starting," Issei yells, one of his hands rubbing up and down your back softly, and you can feel the shit-eating grin on his face.

You hear Hiro walk into the living room and sit on the couch a cushion away from the two of you before he sighs. "You two are disgusting," he comments, and Mattsun just shrugs as he pulls you closer to him, your breath hitching at the movement. "She not watching?" Hiro asks, and you feel Matsukawa shake his head.

"Nah," he starts, leaning his back against the couch and shifting his hips up, which causes you to bite your hand to hold back your moan. "She's said she's already seen it, so she's gonna sleep through it."

With the blanket covering the both of you, it looks like he was just getting into a more comfortable position. But under the blanket was a different story. The shift of his hips, slots himself further into your pulsing cunt, your breathing ragged.

Currently, this was your punishment for playing with Issei. You now have to endure his teasing as he splits you open while the movie plays for who knows how long. You've never seen it.

He holds the blanket between his chin and your shoulder as he grips your ass and spreading you apart before pulling you down impossibly further making you gasp into his neck. You jolt when he prods at your asshole, and Makki looks at you, but Mattsun is staring right at the TV screen, so he turns his attention back to the movie.

Issei glances at Makki who's now looking between his phone and the TV, and one of his hands makes its way up to your head. He pushes on your head lightly to tell you to lift your head, and you obey, your mouth opening almost instantly when his finger touches your lips.

He bites back any noise threatening to spill out of his mouth as he feels you covering his finger with your saliva, bobbing your head gently as your tongue circles around the tip.

He pulls it out, and your head goes back down into his neck as you try to calm your breathing. He brings his finger back down to your tight hole, and he rubs your back when you tense slightly.

He works his finger in, and he covers up his grunt with a cough when he feels you clench around him as he works his finger inside. He chuckles softly when he feels his neck getting wet, and you lift your head to take a few deep breaths because you're honest to God crying right now due to how much you're trying to not expose yourself.

When a louder part of the movie hits, Mattsun tilts his head, his mouth sucking on your ear lobe. "This is what you get, pretty girl," he whispers in your ear, smirking when you shudder before whimpering softly.

You carefully turn your head, your lips grazing his ear as you attempt to be as quiet as you can along with keeping your voice steady. "Please, Daddy. 'M sorry," you murmur, hoping to break his resolve when you clench around him.

His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes before he responds. "You sure? No more being a brat," he asks, thrusting his hips up, "a tease?"

You nod quickly as your arms wrap around his neck tighter. "I promise, Daddy, just please," you beg under your breath, and he gives you a quick peck on your neck while giving your ass a squeeze.

"Hold on, baby, be patient," he tells you, and you whine quietly and he silences you with another cant of his hips. He brings a finger down to rub at your clit, and that moan you have a hard time keeping quiet.

Makki glances in your direction, but Mattsun pays him no mind, his head facing forward. Hiro shifts before pausing the movie, stating that he's going to the bathroom.

As soon as you both hear the door close, you're looking at Issei as he starts to pound into you. You can't help but throw your head back as you let out a moan in relief. "No more being a tease, right?" he asks you, and you shake your head as you feel your body going limp with pleasure.

"No, I promise, just don't stop," you moan, and he tightens his grip on your hips as he feels himself getting closer to his climax. You reach down to rub hard circles on your clit, knowing your time is limited, but you're almost there anyway.

"Shit, you feel so good, fuck," Mattsun pants as he makes marks on your neck.

"Come on, Issei, right there," you sigh, and he thrusts right at your sweet spot, making you cum instantly as you cry into his neck, his orgasm quickly following right behind yours.

You both sigh heavily, catching your breath just as you hear the door open, thinking you're in the clear. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Hiro asks disgustingly before storming out the room. "Fuck you guys," he yells before you hear a door slam.

Both of you failed to notice that the blanket had fallen down.

The second strike should've been the third strike for Makki because of how much it's happened. Even though your rooms are separated by the bathroom, Hiro can still hear everything.

Matsukawa was fucking you into the mattress, your face pressed into the pillows as your back is arched, your chest touching the bed, and neither of you realized that the headboard is banging against the wall until you hear pounding on the walls.

Mattsun stops moving as you both listen to Makki pounding on the wall and yelling something along the lines of 'shut the fuck up' and 'stop fucking, and go to sleep.'

Issei just chuckles, clearly not deterred by his best friend's complaining, and he pulls out of you before grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the floor and manhandling you to the floor in the process.

He puts your back in his favorite arch before slipping back inside. "Use the pillow, I'm not done yet," he orders, and you muffle your sudden moans in the pillow as he starts his relentless pace up again, and you bite down on the fabric as you feel your orgasm approaching.

You're surprised the pillowcase doesn't rip when you cum, your body going taut as you grit your teeth further into the material. Mattsun doesn't even give you a chance to recuperate before he's flipping you onto his back.

You move to grab the pillow, but he smacks your hand away. "Fuck what Makki says, I wanna hear you," he tells you before sliding all the way into you quickly.

You let out a scream at the sudden stretch, but it eventually dives into moans as he fucks you harder than he previously was. He finds that spongy spot inside of you instantly, and you dig your nails into his biceps. "Fuck, Daddy, uh, right there," you gasp, the oversensitivity from your previous orgasm bringing you closer to another and to tears.

"Fucking shit," he swears as he props himself on his elbows, leaning down to pull you into a sloppy kiss that's nothing but tongues. You pull his tongue into your mouth as you grip his hair hard, and he comes with a shout, his seed shooting into you as you hit your climax.

He flops down on top of you as your arms come to fall down on the floor. You both jolt when you hear pounding on the door. "Fuck you! Keep doing this shit and you're out!" Hiro screams, and you both laugh softly as you both reply with an apology.

Strike three happens a while later. Both of you have stopped having sex while he's in the house for the most part, and if he is, then you find a more discreet way to do it. Also, you really don't feel like packing up your stuff and moving, and you know Hiro's serious.

You're sitting in the living room in one of the loveseats while Hiro and Mattsun sit on the couch. Hiro's new rule was that you two couldn't sit together anymore which you of course rolled your eyes at, but followed it anyway.

You're scrolling through your phone and exchanging heated glances with Mattsun when there's a knock at the door. Hiro makes his way over to the door and opens it, and you find it hard to take your eyes off the guy that walks in.

He's a bit shorter than your cousin and Issei, but he's really built. Mattsun greets him with a nod of his head as he sits in the loveseat opposite of yours, his eyes never leaving yours. "Wow, Hiro, you just have a plethora of hot friends, don't you?" you tease, and Makki rolls his eyes as he closes the door.

"Fuck off," he groans, and you chuckle lightly.

"Relax, I'm just joking," you comment, sending a wink to the spiky-haired guy in front of you, and you watch as his eyes rake down your body, and you feel your smirk widen.

Hiro's phone buzzes in his hand, and he looks down at the screen before he frowns. "Damn it, why do I keep forgetting about these things," he mumbles under his breath as he makes his way out of the living room, your attention now back on the guy in front of you.

"So, I heard your name was Iwaizumi?" you start, and he nods as he leans forward to rests his elbows on his knees.

"Hajime," he adds, "and I've heard a lot about you from Makki," he tells you, and you smile widely as you tilt your head.

"Ah, yes, like how much he loves me. I know, all good things," you joke as you raise a foot to rest on the seat as you lean back in the seat, and you see his eyes quickly focus on the skin exposed from your shorts.

"I also heard a lot about you from Mattsun," he adds as he rubs his hands together, the movement making his biceps flex, and you bite your lip as you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Like what?" you entertain, and before he can answer, Hiro comes waltzing through the living room, making a B-line to the door.

He points right at you. "Behave." You scoff as you roll your eyes.

"I hope you know that this is a two-way street," you bite back, gesturing between you and Issei, and he rolls his eyes before walking out the door.

You continue to scroll through your phone, but you can't help the growing wetness at your core as you feel two heated gazes on you, dragging all over your body.

You look at Mattsun, and you smirk when he beckons you over with a curl of his finger. You lock your phone, throwing it on the seat, throwing a quick glance at Iwaizumi, who's watching your every move as you make the quick walk to Issei.

His hands immediately land on your hips, and you turn around, making a show of bending over in front of him before you sit down on his lap, his grip on your hips tightening when you grind yours.

"Gave him an invite?" you chide, as Issei leans back, his hands rub all over your body before they stop at your legs. He rubs over your thighs before spreading them open and setting them on top of his.

"Told him he could either watch or join. Up to him," he explains before he starts trailing kisses down your neck, his hands moving to cup your tits.

Your hand weaves through his hair as one of his hands trails down to your shorts. "Come on, Iwa, don't go shy on me now," you entice, and he gulps harshly before he stands and walks over to you.

You moan softly when Issei's fingers make their way inside your shorts to toy at your folds, and you hear Mattsun scoff lightly. "She's already soaked," he tells him as he continues his ministrations before pulling his fingers away.

You watch Iwaizumi's eyes darken when Issei holds his fingers up, the digits shiny with your slick, and you watch as he sticks his fingers in his mouth, groaning quietly. "Damn. I told you she tastes amazing."

You feel your face heat up as you bury your face in his neck, and you hear a chuckle come from Iwaizumi as he takes a step closer. You lift your head to look at him before you lean forward to grab him by the shirt, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

His kiss is different from Issei's but it's still full of passion and hunger. He grips the hair at the base of your neck, angling your head upwards, making you moan as he runs his tongue over your teeth.

Issei stands you up, pulling your shorts down, and Iwaizumi pulls away, moving to kneel on the couch as Mattsun turns so that the both of are facing him. Iwa takes your shirt off, his eyes going even darker when they fall on your tits.

"No bra and panties? You really are a little slut," he tells you before moving to your neck, his fingers rolling the hard buds as Mattsun slides his fingers into you. You don't even try to stop the moans that come from as one hand makes it's way into Iwaizumi's hair as his mouth moves to your chest, your other hand gripping the other man's wrist.

When they both pull away, your chest is covered in spit, slick running down your thighs. Mattsun lifts you up, shedding his shorts and his underwear before he kneels on the couch behind you, lifting your hips up as he lines himself up. You all moan at the same time when he enters you, your hands digging into Iwaizumi's shoulders as you feel the stretch.

"Fuck, she feels so good," he moans when he bottoms out. "You can fuck her after me, but her mouth is just as good," he says before he starts moving, and you moan again as you let your head drop, your breasts swaying with every thrust of his hips.

You feel a hand grip your hair painfully, snatching your head up, and you see that Iwaizumi's completely stripped, his dick right in front of your face. He groans when you instantly open your mouth, and he gives himself a few pumps before he guides it in, your lips wrapping around it to the best of your ability.

"Fuck," he whispers when you look up at him as you suck him off, moaning around him, and he readjusts the grip on your hair before moving his hips.

"She likes when you fuck her face, she's clenching around me so hard, shit," Mattsun groans as he speeds up his hips as he feels himself getting closer. "Shit, shit, fuck," he spits out, and then he's coming with his head thrown back as he fucks you through his high before stopping.

They both pull out of you, and Mattsun sighs heavily as he nods his head towards Iwaizumi with a smirk. "Your turn." He quickly turns you around, and you whine as you feel the stretch again, this one different due to Iwaizumi being a little thicker than Issei.

He has a grip on your shoulder and your hip as he pounds into you, and Mattsun rubs a hand over your hair, biting his lip at the tears and drool running down your face. "You're being so good for your daddies, aren't you?" he asks you, lifting your chin as he watches you struggle to talk, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Iwaizumi smacks your ass, making you cry out as he continues to ram into you. "He asked you a question, didn't he? Answer him." You drop your head as you try to form words, and Mattsun lifts your head back up.

"Yes! Yes! I am, oh fuck," you sigh, having a hard time keeping your arms up to hold you steady.

"God, you are so tight," he grits through his teeth as he drives right into that spot that makes you see stars.

"Ngh, fuck, right there, Daddy, right there!" you scream, and Iwaizumi abandons his grip on your shoulder for gripping your hair, pulling on it, making your back arch further.

He lets go of your hip to reach under you to play with your clit. "Cum with me, baby, you can do it," he coaxes, and he moans softly when you clench around him, and your arms fall when you cum, your body tight as your eyes roll. You feel Iwaizumi tense being you before cumming with a shout of your name, stopping when you both wince from the overstimulation.

Your body falls limp against the couch when Iwaizumi pulls out of you, letting go of your hair. Mattsun pulls you into his lap, and you lean into his neck. "You okay?" he asks, rubbing your back softly, and the only way you can answer is with a nod of your head.

When Hiro opens the door, he sees Mattsun pulling his shorts back up and he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "Y/N, please tell me that Iwaizumi is gone."

"Um..." He looks at you when you trail off, and oh wow the floor looks really interesting right now, and then Iwaizumi is sheepishly coming out from behind the couch with his shirt in his hand.

"DAMN IT, Y/N!! THAT'S IT, PACK YOUR SHIT!!" he yells as he walks swings the door open. "AND YOU'RE BUYING ME A NEW COUCH!!"

You jump slightly when the door slams and the three of you look at each other in silence before you break into a fit of laughs. "Guess I'm moving into your place, Issei."

#matsukawa issei smut #issei matsukawa smut #iwaizumi hajime smut #hajime iwaizumi smut #matsukawa issei x black!reader #issei matsukawa x black!reader #iwaizumi hajime x black!reader #hajime iwaizumi x black!reader #mattsun smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #hq!!#hq smut

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captainsimagines · 3 years ago

Text

To Topple A Giant || Finale

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 10 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings in this Chapter: strong language; slight reference to past sexual abuse; fluff

Word Count: 6,700+

Author’s Note: Guys... the finale! I’m crying actual tears lmao. Thank you for reading my words. It means the world.

The New Compound, July 2025, 7:09pm

The extra hour of sunlight this time of year was the easiest excuse to use for lounging on the roof to watch the sun set slowly. The compound no longer touches the clouds, but it still provides a rich view of the landscape across. There is no blowing of horns or shouts of the road hecklers; it’s a simple hour of solace to rest your chin against your arms, eat your snacks, and watch the sky change colors until nothing remains but the possibility of counting the stars.

“Hey… can I sit here?”

Your heart does a little jump at the sound of his voice. Traitor, you want to say to the pesky organ, but remain quiet as Steve wanders over to stand by you. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body.

“Do what you will, Captain.” It’s simple enough of a response, you figure. You look down at the granola bar in your hand, turning it over a few times before rolling your eyes at the silly gesture. “Granola bar?”

He nods, watching as you snap it in half, and grabs the piece. “Thanks.”

You eat in cooperative silence. You take small bites, saving the granola bar so you have something to focus on during the length of time Steve decides to stay up here. He seems to be doing the same. “So what brings you out here? Another depressive episode?”

“I happen to have the perfect amount of depressive episodes, thank you very much.”

You snort, “Ditto.”

He takes a small bite and rolls the granola over his tongue. “No, I uh… I actually came out here to watch the sunset.”

“That’s sweet.” You shrug and admit your reason to him without a second thought. “I came out here to be sad, so.”

“Thor’s visit isn’t doing you any good?”

Thor is genuinely looking better. He’s started braiding his hair again, exercising with the help of Quill and Bruce, and participating in conversation without being addressed first. Seeing him makes you happy, but there’s still a glint in his eyes that reminds you of the lowest point of his life. And his lowest point was also yours. Sometimes you just want to forget. “He looks better. Healthier, got some light back in his eyes. It’s just whenever we look at each other we think of the same thing, I guess.”

Steve hums low and his shoulder brushes yours. “Loki.”

“It’s good to reminisce and all but I’ve got my limits,” you say.

“What was the special connection between you and Loki anyway?”

You grin at such an innocent question. Steve had never been close to Loki, didn’t really like him much, but he tolerated the God wandering about. You figure he genuinely wants to know. “I met him a little bit before I was assaulted. Everyone in the compound had their suspicions but no one asked. It was like they were avoiding me but also trying to help, I don’t really know. It was a weird time. And Loki, after we caught that dragon thing and really, really properly met, just straight up asked me why I was so distant all of a sudden.” Your chest warms at the memory. “I told him. And you know what the first thing he said to me was?”

Steve shakes his head a little and his eyes follow the tilt of your mouth. “‘What a cunt’.”

He startles himself into a laugh, the rough word not expected. You continue, “It was the first time I laughed in four months.”

Steve follows your gaze out to the sunset. He suddenly feels guilty, out of the loop, sad. You had only mentioned your assault to him once when you discovered Tony’s afterlife gifts, and he never brought it up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were-”

“Bucky had just moved into the tower and all of your attention was on him. I don’t blame you for not seeing me.”

It’s true, but Steve doesn’t forgive himself. He’s had two years to check up on you and because of his own selfish choice, he’s let you slip from his fingers. A question bubbles from the back of his mind — one that he doesn’t think twice about finally asking. If he does, he won’t ask. “Do you miss… me?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“Sam put the idea in my head and—”

You sigh, “Steve, it’s the fact that he had to put the idea in your head. I can lie and say I’ve been all fine and dandy, or I can tell the truth and say I’ve been all fine and dandy. Take your pick.”

Steve stares at you for a long moment, mouth parting around invisible words. You’re staring at the sunset, avoiding his gaze but aware of his eyes on you, and he misses you. He truly, terribly, misses you. He decides he’s got nothing more to lose — he’s already lost you. “Well, I miss you. Do with that what you will.”

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes: wind in your ears, legs shifting when too much weight has been applied, tiny sniffs of the nose. You don’t really know what to do with that information. Steve misses you. And you miss him. But he doesn’t deserve to know that. There’s been no apology from him, just things he’ll do to appease Sam.

At the three minute mark, you groan quietly and turn to him. “Are you seriously still going to watch the sunset up here?”

Steve smirks and watches you from his peripheral. He really has missed being on the receiving end of your various tones of voices. “I have been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

His company isn’t all that bad.

Present Day, 2025, 9:07am

Perhaps there were good things that came from being locked up for over two weeks, alone. Last time you were locked up with the team and there was absolutely no special treatment after that. Now you’re resisting the urge to burst out laughing as Steve piles on the seventh massive pancake on your plate; or rolling your eyes as Sam keeps asking if you want more maple syrup — ‘What flavor? We’ve got six!’ — and Peter’s drowning Bucky with questions about who he encountered at the wedding.

“Is it the same as Netflix Narcos?”

“No,” you say bluntly.

“Is the Amazon series legit? Like, did Omar really kill the DEA agent?”

“No.”

“Is Omar as evil as they say?”

“No.”

“Damn,” Peter groans, piling a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “Nothing’s as exciting as it seems, huh?”

Everyone looks to him, then to each other.

Steve clears his throat, “I was literally shot.”

Mouth full, you follow. “And I was abused for years.”

“And I had to deal with them while with HYDRA,” Bucky says with his mouth full too.

“Man, they shot at me. That counts,” Sam adds.

“And I finally got to use the shield. While being shot at,” Scott says.

You interject, “Technically I was being shot at.”

Even with such a cloud of violence, with gruesome memories — memories that would just be shoveled into the pile of things that no one is ever going to talk about again — you all begin laughing. Poor Peter missed out on a lot, but he can put two and two together. He knows this is his only chance to ask before you all lock it away and call it just another mission. It doesn’t hurt to humor him.

And even though you won’t mention it to any one else unless they ask — this wasn’t just another mission for you or Steve. Things have changed and the both of you know it. The aches within your chest are no longer negative or a bother, but instead are blooming flowers that have laid dormant for years. You’ve been plucking petals for as long as the two of you can remember, and it’s about damn time you both end up on the same page.

Everything has been quiet. Sure, there are bounties on everyone’s head but when is there not? You’ve pissed off more cartel leaders and gang leaders and political enemies than you can count on two hands, so this enemy territory is not all that foreign. You recognize the high trees, the gray skies, the mud beneath your boots. But you’ve got friends on your team that know how to climb those trees; friends on your team that know how to move the clouds and make the sky the talk; friends on your team that would hump through mud and snow watching your six.

You can’t believe you even thought about leaving after the mission in the first place. This is where you belong, where all of you belong, because you’re the only ones with good hearts who qualify for the job.

As breakfast winds down, Steve takes the opportunity to sprinkle in moments of long-awaited public displays of affection. When you go to refill your orange juice, he sneaks a kiss on your cheek. When you go to wash your plate, he makes sure Peter is looking the other way before patting your ass. And when you’re the one to envelope his slim waist from behind, he melts in your combined warmth.

“So, about our date,” Steve inquires, cheeks turning pink but voice unwavering. He looks brand new, refreshed, and there’s a shine in his eyes that you haven’t seen since forever. You can’t remember the last time you have, but you figure it must have been back when the world hadn’t yet swallowed him whole. Now, he’s burning bright with the youth his soul has missed.

You jump up and down, “Ooo, exciting!”

Steve takes you by the waist, swinging you in every direction. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and not exactly dancing but it’s pure. “Chinese? Pizza? Just fries?”

“¿Por qué no los tres?” Pursing your lips, you wait for his answer.

“That can be arranged.”

You gasp dramatically, “You’re spoiling me.”

“Well I have two years to make up for it.”

That startles a laugh from deep inside your chest. “That’s gonna be our inside joke now, huh? Two of the worst years of our lives and we’re joking about it.”

He blushes along with you. “I think that describes our relationship perfectly.”

“Our relationship…” Your voice comes out like a melodic whisper and Steve feels it in his bones.

He grins down at you but before he can respond, someone enters the common room rather cautiously.

“Oh, now what the hell are you doing here?” Steve demands, pushing you to stand behind him. The gesture is nice, but completely unnecessary. Friday would have alerted the team if someone entered the grounds armed.

Agent Kavert raises his hands, “Relax. I’m not here to arrest you or anything.”

Steve tries to move his shoulders in a way where Agent Kavert can’t see your head. But you maneuver around him, somehow ending up peeking your head through Steve’s underarm. “If I know the law, and I think I do, you can’t really arrest someone in their own house anyway, right?” You pat Steve repeatedly on his side. “Right?”

Before Steve can respond, Agent Kavert speaks. With Steve guarding you, it seems the only thing Agent Kavert wants to do is get in and get out as fast as he can. “I just came to apologize. Ballistics came back and the evidence does show that you didn’t kill Ernesto Vega. It was Ramirez’s issued gun.”

Yeah, you think. The gun Seda stole.

“Oh, what a breath of relief! I almost forgot I was there.”

He sighs and his lips pull into a small smile. “You’re not gonna tell me where Ramirez is, huh?”

Steve takes this as his cue to leave you two alone, but not before squeezing your hand on his way out. He nods over to Peter, who’s still crouching in the kitchen, unseen by Kavert. Peter gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up, happy to spy for his Captain. But you know he’s really asking Peter to take care of you while he’s gone.

You let out a heavy sigh. Omar has been wanted for years for another murder he didn’t even commit. And now, he’s wanted for another. He may be a giant with morals, but even he can’t escape the gruesome reality that plagues the wicked.

“I don’t even know where he is. If you came looking for answers—”

“No, I just… Everything’s been so fucked up since half the universe came back. And the possibility of an Avenger being bad, having played us for years — I think it just scared a lot of people.” Agent Kavert actually looks sincere. He adjusts his footing and chuckles a little under his breath. There’s a fine line creasing his forehead, but it isn’t formed from stress. He’s smiling, an honest look, and his eyebrows pull inward. “And Shakespeare? Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you shrug and lean back against the counter. “When half the world disappears and takes your family and friends with it, there’s really not much else to do.”

And besides, Loki was really into Shakespeare.

You continue, deciding at the last second to throw Agent Kavert a bone about your past. “Shield didn’t know but Nick Fury did. So did Pierce. And when Shield fell, Fury just hid it even more.” You give him a half smile. “We weren’t helping the cartel. We were slowly taking it apart.”

Agent Kavert nods, thinking it over. “The deal Jackeline made with us was pretty simple. She’d tell us all the inside secrets that she knew and in exchange, no charges against her and none so serious for you.”

Your shoulders slump and you shoot him a blank stare. “Was it really that simple? Like, I could have just used her as my one free call?”

“Joke all you want. You should have called us when Shield fell. The double agent thing was risky and everyone needs help taking down a giant like that.”

“I did have help. Involving more people was never planned.”

“He was just as much our mission as he was yours.”

Agent Kavert, as sorry as he looks, still doesn’t seem to get it. But that’s fine, you think. Not everyone can. And you’re not in the mood to argue anymore. “No… he wasn’t.”

He seems to read your mind because he simply accepts your answer. “I really am sorry for accusing you. And for the government arresting you alone and letting the white man go free.”

A tiny snort tickles your nostrils. Agent Kavert is white, and it’s even more amusing considering he’s being serious. “Thanks… I guess.”

He turns to leave, seemingly normal, until he spins on his heel and claps his hands. “Oh! And by the way — don’t leave the country. The charges of conspiracy and murder have all been dropped. But there’s evidence of drug smuggling. So, you’re on house arrest.”

Your eyes widen and you reply with a sarcastic yell. “Thanks!” He turns to leave again. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Could not have let you just get away with it. Some of that smuggling was under no order from Shield at all.”

“You know I can easily disable that ugly ass ankle bracelet you’re about to give me?”

He chuckles low, and finally waves goodbye. “Goodbye, Agent Y/LN.”

You stand dumbfounded, slightly annoyed, but you figure it’s better than actual jail time. Peter rises from his hiding spot and walks over to you, blowing air from his mouth. “Friend of yours?”

You whip around to point a finger, scream and laugh mixing into one. “No friend!”

Peter finally hears that accent Steve can’t stop talking about.

It’s a tiny portrait, sealed in a tiny frame and hidden in a tiny room. The frame is black with professional wooden carvings that make the sides look like perfectly detailed tree trunks. It’s in between the portrait of Tony and Natasha’s bracelet. Tony wears the same AC/DC shirt Steve has somehow stolen and claimed as his own. He’s got this sarcastic grin, some type of wrench in one hand while his other rests on his hip. He stands in his lab, glasses pushed up onto his head and black soot smudged on his cheek. You think Peter snapped the photo back in 2017.

But the middle portrait is your favorite. It’s the only photo he ever allowed to be taken of him. Brushing your index finger against the glass, you trace the small outlines of Loki’s jawline, to his thin pink lips, to the bulb of his nose, to the waves of his hair. He sits caught off guard, book in his hand and in regular human clothing. He shoots a rather annoyed but joyful look over his shoulder as the camera was shoved in his face. You know for sure Wanda took that photo.

“You’re not dead,” you say as you study the blue of his frozen eyes. A God doesn’t die, you remember him saying. Loki was wrong about a lot of things, but you pray he wasn’t wrong about this. There’s a small part of you that wants to speak the same words to Tony and Natasha, but there’s only so many times the world’s axis can shift for a miracle. You tap the glass, sighing a breath of acceptance, and finally let go. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Smiling up at the ceiling, you think you’re right about this one.

It’s quiet. The only sounds are the mild ripping of wrapping paper and small ‘thank you’s’ from the team. Everyone got each other something — granted, everyone got something small for everyone. No matter how much Tony joked about still splurging on Christmas shopping, his promises weren’t exactly kept. He’s gotten everyone things they actually need or wanted. Steve, a new drawing pad; Natasha, a bright pink knit sweater; Rhodey, a new watch; Bruce, a pair of sunglasses; Nebula, a dark blue knitted sweater that she immediately presses against her cheek, eyes focused on the ground as she savors the soft brush; you, the full collection of Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. And he finally presents the baby’s crib to Pepper, constructed three weeks after she originally asked him to.

“I know how much you like to reenact A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your room,” Tony grins at you. Biting your bottom lip, you throw yourself at him and hug him tight. He returns the hug with just as much strength, if not more.

As the night goes on and midnight rings, your small group exchanges tight-lipped merry Christmas’s and happy holidays. Natasha retires to her room, a distant look in her eyes as she says goodnight. No one knows where Clint is.

Steve nudges your elbow with his once the room empties. He holds out a box with festive wrapping — snowmen with carrots for noses and a variety of pebbled smiles. “From me and Okoye.”

“You got me a gift?”

Steve’s brow furrows as he nods like it’s obvious. “Of course. You’re my friend.”

“Well, now I feel inadequate,” you laugh. It comes out wet and it’s then that you realize you’re tearing up. “I promise to reenact Midsummer for you, okay?”

Steve chuckles, “You got it.”

You unwrap it slowly, half wondering why Steve and Okoye teamed up to get you a present. You. Your stomach churns an innocent whirl.

It’s a long sleeved vest… or sweater. You can’t really tell until you pull it from the box. It’s intricately designed and it takes a moment for you to finally see it, to finally understand, and the moment you do you exhale a wracked breath.

It’s not Wakandan fashion. It’s threaded with the colors and swirls of a place you haven’t called home in years. It has red flowers down the vest portion and multicolored rows down the sleeves and back. It’s made from a thick fabric that’s rarely used this century. Vintage — home.

“Steve…”

Steve clears his throat, “Now, I only did the flower parts. Okoye found it unfinished in… um…”

And there, where tags from brands would usually be, is a small threaded engraving.

‘From Bucky, To our muñeca.’

“He didn’t get to finish it so I thought I would — you know, help? — so it’s really from Buck. Probably an apology for not letting you visit him in Wakanda.”

Steve tries to push out a laugh at his poor joke, but you can see how he’s faltering. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down so his knees bend, and pour as much nonverbal thank you’s into the hug. He hesitates at first, arms floating awkwardly, until he swallows his fear and wraps his arms around your waist. He holds you to him tightly and breathes in the sweet scent of your vanilla shampoo.

“Thank you.” Your voice is small, but Steve regards the delivery as powerful.

You wear it once, that Christmas night, enveloped in its warmth as you slept. In the morning, you hang it in the back of your closet.

A knock on your bedroom door sounds through your headphones. Bucky peeks his head in, “Is now a bad time?”

Sitting up, you pull the headphones from your ears. “Nope. Just thinking about how I’ve lived several years in the span of one week.”

Bucky lugs in a sports bag in one hand and a manila file in the other. He places them at the edge of your bed and proceeds to bounce in the available space near you. “Yeah, that can be annoying.”

You attempt to shove him away as he tries to steal your blanket. “Did you need anything?”

“Yeah.” He lets you take it, and simply turns on his side to face you. “What’s gonna happen between you and Steve?”

It’s an innocent question, but you know Bucky well enough to notice when he’s stressed. Steve probably told him to mind his business. “We’re good.”

He inspects your face with squinted eyes, “I know what you’re thinking so cut that shit out. This isn’t one of those missions where the feelings will just go away.”

“Funny thing is, I believe you,” you admit, watching as his face does something unexpected. His smile drops suddenly, like he didn’t expect you to agree with him, and then it’s immediately back full force.

“Peggy and Steve - right person, wrong time. You and Loki - right person, wrong time. You and Steve, all those years ago — right person, wrong time.” A weird thing happens: you agree with him again. “But now, after everything — right person, right time.”

“It’s just weird feeling like it’ll actually work.”

“That makes us seem like we’re all broken, doll. We’re not.”

You turn so you’re facing him; two mismatched parentheses. “We’re just tired.”

“We’re just tired,” Bucky agrees, smiling. “I’m not saying don’t look over your shoulder whenever you feel like it. Hell, I still look over mine.”

Snorting, you roll closer to hug him. He pulls you into his chest. “You give amazing pep talks.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why they gave that trophy to Steve.” Bucky shares the intimate moment for as long as it takes before the blanket starts overheating. He groans as he sits up to retrieve the things he brought with him. “By the way, our mutual friend sends one last warm regards.”

Bucky throws the sports bag onto your lap. “What’s this?”

“Your shit.”

You don’t even want to ask him how he packed your things without your knowledge. “Kicking me out, Barnes?”

“Clothes, toothbrush, shampoo and conditioner, pads, the quilt I just finished knitting thank you very much,” Bucky lists and hands you the file. “Maribel found him.”

“Ramirez?”

“Your dad.”

You snap your head up to look at him. Bucky expects to see anger, hurt, maybe even betrayal. He was prepared for it. But you just look confused, lost for words, maybe even scared. “Goes by Richard these days. Lives with his wife in Wisconsin, no kids, keeps to himself.”

You flip through the files, holding your breath. The file is small, Richard’s information only covering the first page, the rest just drabble. He seems relatively normal, looks normal even; normal job, normal credit score, normal upbringing. It doesn’t even seem real. You close the file and set it aside. “So you are sending me away?”

Bucky smirks, “It’s a suggestion. But I took the liberty of doing the hard part for you.”

“Yeah, because packing my lady products is the climax of this story.”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Bucky called Richard your ‘dad’. Everyone either referred to Ernesto as ‘your father’ or by his name. Steve had said ‘dad’ a few times before he met him, then he never said it again. Hell, even you did sometimes.

It’s a sweet distinction and you’re certain Bucky said it on purpose. Bucky takes your hands in his, “It’s been a long time coming. But at least we can both say that the people who hurt us can’t hurt us any longer.”

You can. You really can.

Bucky’s already packed Steve’s shit as well. Steve’s just shoving extra socks into his bag when someone knocks on the door. He expects Bucky or Sam, final words of encouragement, but it’s Scott. And he’s standing there grinning like a mad man.

“So, what’s the verdict, Rogers? You going after her or not?”

Steve huffs a laugh, “Think you already know the answer to that, Lang.”

Scott closes the door behind him and leans back against it. He shoves his hands in his sweater pockets, “Not that it should matter, shut me up if I cross any line, but everyone supports this.”

“Weirdly, I think it does matter. We’ve had you guys picking sides for two years. Selfishly. Like we were having a fucking civil war after everything.”

“Yeah, well.”

Steve huffs a laugh. It’s always going to surprise him just how comfortable Scott is around him now. Not afraid to tease him or call him out on something he doesn’t agree with. It’s refreshing.

“I’m not giving up on her, Scott. Not again.”

Scott nods. Perhaps breaking the mission ethic code wasn’t a bad thing after all, Scott thinks. He gives Steve a proud smile, genuine. “Then I hereby declare our hanging conversation officially closed.”

Steve wanders from his bedroom, to the conference room, to the main living room without an end destination in mind, seeming to just follow his quick feet as they lead him around the halls of the compound. He’s proud of himself, really, because he truly believes he’s learned to swallow his pride, has opened himself up to the possibility of being happy, and accepted that the world has changed and will continue to alter whether he likes it or not. He was, is, and will always be a man out of time — he’ll never fit but goddamn does he feel settled. He hasn’t felt this sane since before the war — which one? — so he relishes in the feeling for a few calm seconds.

He feels tears well-up on his water line and feels the pressure in his temples. He’s at a crossroads — both proud of himself for finally choosing the path he wants and relieved that this week, this mission he has dreaded for almost ten years, is over. He doesn’t know if he should sleep for a month or occupy his time with other things awaiting repair. A build up of five years, grief and loss and happiness all weirdly mixed into one pot, and Steve simply hasn’t noticed the improper portions of each ingredient.

It’s too much.

He thinks about his mental health. Shot to Hell, he jokes with himself. He’s already got the virtual therapy appointments scheduled. He figures he’ll get better with time and if Steve knows one thing for sure, it’s that he’s got a whole lot of that.

He thinks about Sam and Bucky and Scott — his three best friends that have gone to the ends of the Earth and back for him, and who would proudly do it all over again. He thinks about their kind words, their gentle touch, their devotion that Steve still sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve.

And he thinks about you. To anyone else, this was written in the damn stars. No, there wasn’t anything extremely obvious in the first few years. You were friends. Friends that grew to consider each other teammates. Teammates that drew a drop of blood while fighting on opposite sides. Teammates that recognized the true endgame, teammates that helped each other escape, teammates that went silent for two years. Two years of no contact, no signal of survival. Then again, teammates who stood by as their world crumbled around them. Teammates who grew to be friends again, leaning on free shoulders and seeking help through happy conversations and long nights. Friends that brought the world together again, only to rip each other from their own. Friends into the most bizarre of enemies. And enemies back to teammates.

Steve wipes a hand down his face as he fixes the strap over his shoulder. The common room is empty — he likes it this way. That means everyone is either napping, getting food, visiting friends or family, simply living life. The silence is therapeutic.

His eyes fall on a crooked picture frame near the television. He tries to ignore it, almost to the door and ready for another road trip, but he steps back. Then forward, then back again. He groans in frustration of himself and moves to turn the frame back in place, holding it for a few seconds until it stays. But as he lets go, it tilts once more. He tries again — it tilts back.

He pulls the frame from the hook and turns it over. He rightly freezes, the presence of a small pink paper airplane taped near the edge knocking the wind from his constricting lungs. He pulls it off, careful to not tear the delicate post-it.

He never found it. Natasha probably placed it behind this very picture frame in the other compound for him to find. Surely the explosion should have destroyed it — but it didn’t. It’s right here, perfectly intact, just a smudge of dirt on one of its wings. The frame hadn’t been damaged either. It’s real.

He holds the thin piece of paper like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Steve turns it over between his fingers a few more times, before he carefully folds it back in half and puts it in his wallet. “You’ve got some nerve, Nat. But I hear ya.”

Steve decides to write you back. He hides the letter in that sweater he knows you don’t wear anymore, in the far back of your closet, and marvels at the intricate stitching while he can. He poured his heart out, even if it’s not guaranteed you’ll ever see it.

‘Yes, I found your letter. I found it when I was looking for perfume in your suitcase. The tape was loose and I violated your privacy. I’m truly sorry for that.

But I felt compelled to write you back, in case the reverse happened and I died instead of you. I didn’t write it then, when you were drying your hair in front of that impossibly small mirror you so weirdly called ‘a stupid little bitch’. And you looked so beautiful. But I’m writing it now and maybe I’ll share it with you in person when we’re both ready.

When the world turned to dust, I held on to you. I know exactly why. Natasha bugged me about it also, teasing me whenever I would glance at you too long, or give you the last remaining Oreos I was planning on eating, or whenever I would leave your room in the mornings after a nightmare. She knew nothing was happening between us, but she had this smile whenever she caught me. Like she was happy I was comforting you, and in turn seeking comfort for myself.

You remember how her smile would tilt up more on the left side?

There isn’t a proper way to truly apologize for hurting you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. You at least deserve that.

I returned a different man. And I think that was for the better.

Yes, I wanted the quiet life. I still think I do. And I think you know this — you have always seen right through me.

I now know what Natasha saw. You irritate me, you damn near make me want to choke myself out, but I care for you. We hold each other up, and I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be.

You’re my best friend — I hope I’m one of yours.

Steve.’

There’s no one currently in the compound who really knows how to change the battery in your car. Bucky tries, does a rather good job too, but he claims he’s winging it and that you should call a mechanic just in case. He leaves you there with two random batteries on the ground, hood of your car open, and without any idea of what to do next. So you chill and wait for the mechanic you hope isn’t going to jack up the price just because he knows who you are.

But he doesn’t seem fazed by you at all — or at the fact he just had to drive through countless checkpoints and security checks just to get on Avengers property. He changes the battery and changes the oil, hooking you up with as many upgrades he can. He even offers to wash it until you thank him repeatedly and that Really, really, you don’t have to do that. Thank you so much!

“Quite a garage you got here.”

There are unfinished projects and random wires falling from the ceiling and enough tools to supply five garages. It’s messy, but it was Tony’s. You accept the compliment and see him out.

“Eh, make sure those windshield wipers work. I hear it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

You thank him again. The clouds to the west are gray, getting darker as the expanse stretches, but from where you’re standing everything’s blue. You figure the mechanic was right: it’s gonna rain, and it’s gonna rain hard.

The mechanic did good, all things considered. You never thought your old, beat-up Honda could look a few years younger. You flick one of the wipers lightly, testing its strength. It holds, as does the other, but when you go to lift it up it stops halfway. Without wanting to break it, you don’t force it. There’s something blocking the switch.

You grab it before it can accidentally fall into a deep slot; the figurehead of a man, curly hair and beard that matches Steve’s, who also has a prominent and strong nose. You turn the coin over a few times before looking around the garage, down the street, at the remote area where the mechanic has just left. Standing there, mouth agape, you wonder just how in the world you missed the mechanic placing it there.

You were lacking in the spy department nowadays. Oops.

You know you’re not going to find Ramirez. But him giving this back to you? It was his way of saying he’s alright and that he owes you many thanks.

You pocket the coin and accept the fact you just got bested.

It should take a few hours before you hit the first motel. Wisconsin isn’t that far, but you do have to pass through about hundred “middle of nowhere’s”. You pull out of the garage and check your mirrors — completely unaware of the super soldier running full speed to the passenger door. Steve carefully throws it open, somewhat aware of his strength, and lands into the seat beside you.

You hit the brakes hard. “Oh my! Rogers!”

Steve sucks in a few heavy breaths, like he literally ran across the compound to make it. “What? I startle you?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing? Aren’t you on house arrest?”

You squint at him, “Touche.” Putting the car in park, you turn your whole body to face him. “Answer my question.”

“Thought you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Steve asks, expression much more teasing than serious.

“I’ll be gone for three days tops,” you say, waving your hand in the air. Steve smiles at you, seemingly waiting for you to speak again. You roll your eyes, “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?”

Steve lifts up the small duffel bag you hadn’t seen when he first got into the car. He throws it into the backseat and smiles lovingly at you. “I’ve been told that I’m impossible to get rid of, so yeah.”

“Rhodey said that the ankle bracelet they gave me wasn’t a trusted model. Easy to break off, like they did it on purpose.” You lean toward him, holding your chin up with the palm of your hand. “Should be able to drive free for a few weeks before they suspect anything.”

“Already booked us a cabin for Thanksgiving.”

“What makes you think that I even want you to accompany me on this road trip? Did you like the first one?”

Steve clears his throat and mimes like he’s writing on paper. The next words out of his mouth make your legs turn cold. “No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be, there’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you.”

You blink multiple times, as if that would fix your ears. “...You. Fucking. Didn’t.” Steve reaches over to try and hug you. “No, don’t.” He squeezes harder, smooshing your face in his chest. “Steeeeve!”

“It fell out of your suitcase during the mission and I just… looked,” Steve reasons. He allows you to escape his grip.

“You just looked?”

Steve sighs. He really does look guilty. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, letting his fingers tickle your skin. “I’m sorry I read it. I’ll get out of this car for real if you want me to.”

You arch an eyebrow, “You’re a little shit, but I’m not mad. No one understands privacy these days.”

Steve smiles wide enough for his dimples to pop and his eyes to crinkle. “I’d follow you anywhere, doll.”

“Anywhere?”

“Just name it.”

Humming low, you lean forward. He follows your direction like you’re a lighthouse beaming with light, capturing your lips with his in a sweet kiss. He hooks a large hand behind your head to press you to him harder. You smell like that vanilla scented shampoo he loves so much and feels his heart constrict with a pleasant pulse.

You pull back for air and smile against Steve’s soft lips.

“Well, I’m headed for the middle of buttfuck Wisconsin—”

“Just drive!”

Bursts of laughter fill the car until you’re past the checkpoints and well onto the long roads. The clouds continue to turn darker but they’re inviting, alluring, and it’s not insane that both of you desire thunderstorms because they remind you of family.

Steve watches you from the passenger seat, memorizing the contours and edges of your profile. The roots in his heart begin spreading again; the meat of his heart filling with a soothing promise that his time on earth is no longer rootless. He’s dug his feet in, he’s watered all he’s needed to water, and he feels it spreading within him like newly blossomed flowers in the spring. He has a sudden urge to take out his drawing pad to immortalize the way your mouth tilts higher up on the right side when you smile, to record it forever.

But he’ll remember it. He’ll remember well into this timeline, several years down the road, and even when he’s resting in his grave. So he leans his head back against the seat and chooses to watch the curves of every expression you grace him with. He immortalizes the sound of your voice, the taps of your fingers against the steering wheel, and the accented way you say his name.

There’s a long drive ahead, but he’s excited for it. He’s excited for you. Steve promises himself that he’ll ask you a million questions, and give you a million answers, and share a million more stories.

Right now, he just needs to sleep.

THE END.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-3 @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress

#captainsimagines #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #reader x steve rogers #avengers fanfic #avengers x reader #marvel fanfiction #chapter ten #to topple a giant #to topple a giant finale #avengers mob fanfic #by Moni

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ledamemangociana · 3 years ago

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this is not a happy post

apologies in advance, especially to anyone who followed me coz of my various gifsets; i know this kind of thing isn’t what you’re here for.

i’m unfortunately prone to a venting a lot and lengthily when my depression, anxiety and self-esteem issues get the better of me. most of the time, im feels-vomiting on my twitter, mostly coz i havent used my tumblr quite as regularly as i used to 6, maybe 7 years ago. i’m mostly doing this here now coz i feel like i need the writing momentum to not be stilted by having to click the “add new tweet” button over and over again.

so. i’m turning 35 two weeks from now. and it is getting to me, possibly because of the situation that the pandemic has kept me in for the past year and a half, maybe because 35 feels like a milestone adult age, maybe because turning 35 means 40 is right around the corner. and the closer my 35th birthday is, the more i’m plagued by thoughts of where i am now, where i’m probably supposed to be as an adult, where i wanted to be, and the thought that i’m just never gonna be good enough to not be who and where i am now.

in feb 2020, i started my new job as the digital marketing manager for a pair of upscale hotels, the biggest deal of a job i’ve ever gotten since i started working in late 2011, and the biggest paycheck i’ve ever signed on for too. for the first time in a long time, possibly in forever, the few big dreams i had ever had for myself seemed to be attainable; it felt like they could become goals. a solo trip to japan, getting a place for myself instead of living in the family condo, growing my collections, maybe having an actual social life, those kinds of things seemed within reach.

and then, literally a month into my new job, the country went into lockdown, and legitimately has never come out of it. my work situation changed drastically, to the point where i ran up both of my credit card bills before the year was over (i literally only just got one of them fully paid off last week, and only because my sister was a HUGE help), and i was living off the limited family funds and relying on dad to take care of me. i had a freelance client for a handful of months, only for them to drop me without word at the end of our contract, leaving me without a chunk of the only funds i was making on my own for a while. i’m now working sporadically at my regular job, with a significant cut to my paid hours and therefore my paycheck, but the tasks list just seems to grow longer with each task that i check off of it, leaving me overworked and underpaid (but of course,i know im not alone or special in this, some people have it far worse than me and i’m grateful that i even have a regular work schedule, even if it does look the way it does). im 260 lbs., wearing size 22 or 24 clothes, somewhat sickly and prone to constant painful gout attacks that make it difficult for me to walk, living in a condo unit owned by family because they’re letting me live here, making only a third of the salary i normally should at work without the panemic, subsisting on junk food and softdrinks (it’s an addiction) because much of my money leaves my wallet and goes to paying bills and loans as soon as the money comes in, alone, unloved, unlovable, as prone to hyperfixation as i’ve ever been, and putting up with constantly re-attaching bromides and instax pics that keep falling off of my recently completed anime wall.

i’m 34 years old. i’m turning 35 in two weeks.

you know who else is 34/35 this year? the local barangay captain, a member of the local govnerment unit, who was one of my classmates in grade school and high school. a few years ago, i had seen a tarp across the street advertising her local work-out and yoga classes.

i’ve always hated the question “where do you see yourself 5 years from now/10 years from now/in the future?” because i’ve never been able to truthfully answer it, even when i wasnt an emotionally unstable mess (which was all the way back in elementary). i close my eyes and try to imagine it, and nothing ever comes up. i’d like to think i have an active enough imagination to have been able to write fanfic a lot back in the day, so you know it’s bad when i can’t even imagine a lofty future for myself. at this point in my life, i can’t even say “just simply alive” because i truly don’t know if i will be, i don’t see it. that’s fatalistic, maybe, but i really have never been able to imagine myself living to 40, let alone past that. anything i want for myself remain dreams, things i dont deserve because im not thin, pretty, smart, cultured, skilled. and the closer i get to 40, the less of that already non-existent future i see.

and it’s just depressing, you know. like. it’s already so hard being depressed about and hating myself WITHOUT this added thought of “you are only growing older and fatter and are headed literally nowhere and everyone your age is far more responsible and mature than you could even dream you’d ever be” mixed in there too. maybe this is just me beating myself up and being my own harshest bully, but what’s stopping me from believing that i deserve this bullying of myself by myself, lmao.

i dread every birthday. i stopped dreaming things for myself a long time ago. these are all things i just know i can’t and won’t ever live up to, because i’m just this useless sack of potatoes rotting away in the corner of some barn while everyone else is finding some use for themselves and able to make lemonade out of their own lemons, and stuff like that. and yet knowing i’ll never be those things or have those things makes me sad. for someone with a laundry list of negative things about myself i’ve just learned to accept so i can somehow function, having that list sure does make me sad. and it probably shouldn’t, if im so resigned to all of this, but maybe that’s just what happens when you hate yourself - there will always be a reason for you to hate yourself.

oh, and i think i’m coming down with carpal tunnel in my left hand. great.

#Mango Goes To Jail #long post #sorry this is kinda depressing #i just needed to vent #im feeling myself slipping into Yet Another Depressive Spell

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thisweekingundamwing · 4 years ago

Text

This Week in Gundam Wing 6-12 June 2021

Here’s this week’s roundup! June 6th -12th!

Remember to give your content creators some love! Be sure to join in on the events at the bottom! And remember to send in any new works you see or make next week!

~Mod Hel (Sorry this is so late all!)

Fanfiction/Snippets/AU Ideas:

@destinysblackrose

Losing my Breath https://destinysblackrose.tumblr.com/post/653297355731435520/fic-losing-my-breath-gundam-wing-heero-x

F/M, Heero Yuy/Relena Darlian

Rated M for mature. Contains smut and angst.

Before his ‘reconnaissance mission’, Heero had been coaxing her, week after week. Waiting for her to become comfortable with this aspect of their relationship. Their last 'exchange’ gave him hope that maybe, they were getting closer.

The patience of a sniper. He used to hate it. Waiting. Watching. Aching. Breathing. Boring.

At least nothing about waiting for Relena was dull.

@lemontrash

Pride Day 5 https://lemontrash.tumblr.com/post/653269838365638656/pride-day-5

5 It Used to be a Different Game - 1x5 SFW - UST.

After a war and a rocky experience with ambivalent heterosexuality, Wufei is not entirely sure what to make of this situation.

@noirangetrois

Gundam Wing Diaries https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/653438898421284864/the-gundam-wing-diaries

May 8, 2000 (Monday)

Episode 46 - “Milliardo’s Decision”

May 9, 2000 (Tuesday)

Episode 47 - “Collision in Space”

Gundam Wing Diaries https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/653714468147265536/the-gundam-wing-diaries

May 10, 2000 (Wednesday)

Episode 48 - “Takeoff into Confusion”

May 11, 2000 (Thursday)

Episode 49 - “The Final Victor”

Of the Sea (Ch. 11) https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/653792472043077632/of-the-sea-chapter-11-archive-of

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, fairytale my way, Meroctopus!Dorothy, Slow Burn, Multi POV, POV Third Person Limited, merman au, MerMay, Fantasy Politics, mentions of abuse, Unnatural November

Heero Yuy will soon be reaching the age of majority, at which time he will ascend the throne of Wingaria. Before such time, he must needs choose a bride. But what if there are no good choices? What if someone else has captured his heart?

simulacraryn

Friday, I’m in Love https://archiveofourown.org/works/31705282/chapters/78469714

F/M, Gen, Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Hangover, Alcohol Mentions, Explicit Language, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - College/University, 1995 college au, khushrenada family has more issues than a magazine, background Treize being a gremlin, unbetaed - we die like men here

[College AU, 1995] Zechs is well aware of the upcoming social obligations that come with being friends and sharing a home with a "snob". The issue is when said friendship is actually cramping his own style, then it's time to enlist his girlfriend in order to help the friend find a better coping mechanism for the upcoming activities.

@thaiteaaddict

Reincarnated As A Minor Villiainess and I Survived Past My Death Scene (Ch. 28) https://thaiteaaddict.tumblr.com/post/653740109010747392/i-reincarnated-as-a-minor-villainess-and-i

M/M, F/F, F/M, Heero x Duo, Trowa x Quatre, Wufei x Meilan, Dorothy x Relena

Full cast

Teen, AU - Fantasy, AU - Isekai, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator

After being killed in a traffic accident, Duo wakes up in a medieval fantasy novel - except he’s woken up as one of the novel’s minor villains who was supposed to have died in a main character’s backstory. Intent on righting the wrongs of his novel counterpart, Duo sets out to change his fate and just maybe improve the relationship between himself and his estranged husband, Duke Heero Yuy. (Duo is isekai’d into the body of a novel’s villainess character and runs with it.)

@zaganthi

Catered https://zaganthi.tumblr.com/post/653846550482665472/catered-zaganthi-caffiends-tzigane-gundam

M/M, Chang Wufei/Quatre Raberba Winner

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Blindfolds; Demisexuality; Dinner; First Kiss; Hand Feeding, GW Pride 2k21 – Day 13, Blindfolds; Day 17, foodplay

“I would like you to do a blind taste test.” Quatre sat down across from him on the cushion, smiling that serene little smile that he only used when he was up to something. He’d done stranger things. That smile made him a little paranoid, though. Anyone with the least bit of sense would be paranoid when Quatre looked like that.

“All right.”

“Thank you.” Wufei could see the smile, but he could also hear it in Quatre’s voice as he moved behind him.

Gnossienne https://zaganthi.tumblr.com/post/653752431378890752/gnossienne-zaganthi-caffiends-perryvic

M/M, Duo Maxwell/Quatre Raberba Winner; Treize Khushrenada/Duo Maxwell; Treize Khushrenada/Quatre Raberba Winner; Trowa Barton/Chang Wufei

Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, Aged-Up Character(s) Quatre Raberba’s Uchuu no Kokoro | Space Heart; Preventers (Gundam Wing); Team as Family; Domestic Bliss; Friendship; Friendship/Love; talking with exes; Double Penetration; rompy sex; Aftermath of Violence; Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery; Awareness of the trouser legs of time; Talking about Therapy; Dinner Party; Swordfighting; Enthusiastic Consent

It was as if his words constituted permission because Quatre’s smile was blinding then as was his emotional reaction - figuratively and literally because he damn well started glowing as he said in a reverent whisper “Sandrock,…”

His Gundam impossibly powered up there and then right in front of them even as Quatre literally ran towards it. This time around he really got it, he could feel Sandrock as Quatre felt him - and it was a him strangely. Just as he felt that Deathscythe was more than just metal and technology, Sandrock had a presence. How, he didn’t know but it was like seeing him reunite with a beloved family member.

Fanart/Crafts/Photo Manips:

@alphaikaros

https://alphaikaros.tumblr.com/post/653299730884050944/late-mermay-post

Dorothy/Quatre, fanart

https://alphaikaros.tumblr.com/post/653860625645256704

Relena/Heero, fanart

@anukisart

https://anukisart.tumblr.com/post/653291417640304640/first-anime-crush-right-here

Heero Yuy, fanart

@babygray-dam

https://babygray-dam.tumblr.com/post/653427876479303680/a-sketch-of-duo-maxwell

Duo Maxwell, fanart

@cloakandfire

https://cloakandfire.tumblr.com/post/653518473738305536/milliardo-peacecraft-lucrezia-neuenheim-noin

Millidardo Peacecraft/Zechs Merquise, fanart

@duointherain

https://duointherain.tumblr.com/post/653647734686072832/a-new-duo-render-from-violet-in-tooth-and-claw-i

Duo Maxwell, render

@gundayum

https://gundayum.tumblr.com/post/653389873532796928/im-just-gonna-copypasta-from-ao3-lmao-sorry

Relena & Heero, fanart

@idrawprettyboys

https://idrawprettyboys.tumblr.com/post/653393436572106753/duo-in-a-crop-top

Duo Maxwell, fanart

@twillpoint

https://twillpoint.tumblr.com/post/653752343129636864/until-next-time-afternoon-tea-booth

Duo/Quatre, fanbook

Photosets/Gifsets/Screenshots/Manga Pages:

@cuteciboulette

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/653254092113723392/doujinshika-sango-show

Destiny, doujinshi

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/653344695287775232

Duo & Heero Book, doujinshi

https://cuteciboulette.tumblr.com/post/653707101846306816/cuteciboulette-tsuki-no-kodomo-vol-3-full

Act 3, doujinshi

Head Canons:

@bryony-rebb

https://noirangetrois.tumblr.com/post/653352279647371264/lemontrash-bryony-rebb-bryony-rebb

Trowa & Cathy, headcanon

@lemontrash

Quotes:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/653552300665782272/duo-kinda-gay-to-make-a-wanted-poster-duo-why-do

Duo & Heero

https://incorrectgundamwingquotes.tumblr.com/post/653642909168631808/duo-im-hella-fucking-tired-but-i-need-to-go-to

Duo & Quatre

Calendar Events:

@gundamzine

Rhythm Generation 2021

Meet the Mods: https://gundamzine.tumblr.com/post/636708854145613824/come-on-over-a-meet-your-2021-zine-mod-team-head

Check out the blog for the Zine schedule!

@gundam-wing-pride

Gundam Wing Pride 2k21 https://gundam-wing-pride.tumblr.com/post/648237909672083456/incoming-transmission-faq

A Beautiful Rainbow of Prompts https://gundam-wing-pride.tumblr.com/post/649898271517573120/a-beautiful-rainbow-of-prompts

@gwcocktailfriday

Cocktail Fridays!

Post responses on Friday, during Happy Hour between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Here’s the prompt for Friday, ! [starting back up next week!]

In need of Summer/Fall(Autumn) prompts!

@gwshootingstars

Shooting Stars Online Convention https://gwshootingstars.tumblr.com/post/653339481502564352/hey-everyone-guess-whos-back-with-a-brand-new

This has been tabled for future action.

https://gwshootingstars.tumblr.com/post/653641678082752512/hi-all-thank-you-so-much-for-the-response-and

Latest news.

@oztober-rust

Welcome to Oztober Rust

We’re an up and coming Gundam Wing event with a slight twist! This page is still a work in progress, but you’re welcome to join us over on discord and get a feel for the event.

Have discord, will fan. https://oztober-rust.tumblr.com/post/647568110262566912/i-see-a-nice-and-steady-following-we-do-have-a

@seasons-of-gundamwing

Summer Event Prompts Needed https://seasons-of-gundamwing.tumblr.com/post/652830126852177920/alright-folks

@thisweekingundamevents

Events Calendar https://thisweekingundamevents.tumblr.com/post/644080386309275648/events-calendar-update

If you are hosting an event currently, or are planning on one, hit us up with links and dates! We’ll add them to the Calendar and reblog your notices to get the word out!

#Gundam Wing #This Week in Gundam Wing #Weekly Roundup #6-12 June 2021

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Everybody Knows You're High, 1/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

“I found myself all alone in the grocery store, more stoned than I think I’ve ever been before.”

Summary: Raja smokes way too much weed and develops horrifying self-awareness, Manila’s there to rescue her but takes none of her bullshit. Maybe, just maybe, they fall in love. A lesbian college AU friends-to-idiots-to-lovers tale based on the song Everybody Knows by Partner. Loosely inspired by Off Limits by V&albatross but like wayyyy dumber :)

A/N: my computer died and I’m in the process of getting all my files back so I wrote this mostly in the notes app on my phone to cope lmao

tw: weed induced anxiety & paranoia

It was a wonderful Sunday afternoon and Raja had been taking massive bong rips for the past two hours because why the hell not.

She sat in a sunbeam on her couch in the living room, deeply at peace with the world. Her roommates were out, and Raja was supposed to be working on a paper for her philosophy class that was due this week. But whatever, wasn’t a big part of college about having fun?

Raja glanced over at her Nintendo controller and stared at it for a good minute before reaching for it and selecting Super Smash Bros. After several minutes of staring glassy-eyed at the screen and trying to beat the computer generated competition, Raja blindly reached over for the bag of chips that usually rested in the corner of the couch and found… it was gone.

Raja paused the game and glared at the corner of the couch, suddenly really hungry.

She got up and went to the kitchen, digging around in the cupboards, reasoning she could always pay Delta or Carmen back for chips if they had some… but to no avail. If Raja wanted chips, she’d have to leave the house.

But that wasn’t such a big deal, the grocery store was a block down the street which was part of the reason they’d picked this house in the first place. Raja knew the route like the back of her tattooed left hand.

So, Raja took another big hit off her bong for courage, enjoying the satisfying bubbles in the dank bong water and subsequent thick smoke that went deep into her lungs.

Then she left the house, lazy in loose shorts and a crop top, yellow-tinted sunglasses to take the glare off the sunny afternoon, and her wallet reliably in her back pocket. What a beautiful day, it almost felt like a movie as she wandered down the street in the golden afternoon light. The clouds were small, fluffy and perfect. It just like how Raja imagined the 90s.

Glancing up at the big three-pane window in the house a few doors down across the street, Raja wondered if anyone was home. A few other students lived there, including Manila, who was one of her close friends. Raja decided not to stop and kept walking, the need for chips overpowering the desire to stop by and visit Manila.

At the grocery store Raja smiled to herself, took a plastic basket and wandered gently down the brightly lit aisles. Mmm, food. She got to the chips aisle and put a couple of different bags in her basket, letting elderly people and families and other folks pass her as she moved slowly. Then Raja decided she might, in fact, want ice cream too and moseyed over to the dairy section.

But as the cool air of the diary aisle hit her Raja began to experience doubt. She didn’t smell like weed, did she? Her mouth still tasted a little smoky, but surely it wouldn’t be a problem…

… and suddenly Raja saw somebody behind the glass in the big wall of fridges, blending in to the little cartons of whipping cream. Who the hell was that?

Raja peered closer, curious about the weird gremlin that lived in the fridge only to realize, with absolute horror, that it was her own reflection.

Long, greasy black hair, a slack expression, yellow tinted sunglasses through which her bloodshot and lined eyes were clearly visible. A twenty-year-old mess.

Clearly and distinctly, a voice inside Raja’s head said, Everybody knows you’re high.

Shit.

Raja looked around slowly, and inched into the corner at the end of the aisle between the shredded cheese and a big granola bar display. Her breath grew shallow as the sudden anxiety swallowed her whole. Oh god, oh no, everybody could tell-

What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Raja gulped, completely glued to the spot as she watched the other shoppers go by. She needed a rescue mission. She took out her phone, holding on to the basket of chips for dear life.

Raja stared at her phone. Delta and Carmen were both out today and too far away, Shangela was mad at her, Raven was out of the question, who else, who else lived nearby…

Raja hit call.

“Hello?” came Manila’s voice, a little out of breath.

“Manila,” whispered Raja, shrinking further into the corner between the display and the glass fridge, as she realized that everyone in the store knew she was high and could probably also hear her conversation, “I need you to come pick me up.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I’m like… super high,” whispered Raja, anxiety spiking as her too-slow body fought her too-fast mind, “I’m at the grocery store and everybody knows and I’m trapped in the diary aisle and I can’t move.”

“What?” laughed Manila, “Oh my god, how much weed did you smoke?”

“I dunno, I did like… thirteen bong hits,” whispered Raja pathetically, “I needed chips.”

“You are so stupid,” said Manila with affectionate exasperation, “I’m out for a run, I’m just around the corner. I’ll come get you.”

Raja whispered a thank you and hung up and took a deep breath and stared at the floor. The floor was moving a little bit not too badly. Maybe she could just walk down the dairy aisle and people wouldn’t be able to tell how high she was- but no, everybody knew. Someone was probably calling the grocery store cops right now and Raja would go to stoner girl jail and she’d never get to tell Manila how much she liked her…

After what might have three minutes or possibly an hour, Raja looked up and saw Manila approaching from the end of the aisle. Raja breathed a sigh of relief, but found she still couldn’t move. Manila’s curly black hair was up in a high ponytail, her face glowed a little from her run, and her colourful leggings were really showing off her legs…

“Hi, bitch,” said Manila, stopping in front of Raja with a huge, teasing grin. “I can’t believe you did this to yourself. Come on.”

With that, Manila turned and motioned for Raja to follow, her but Raja couldn’t.

“Nnh-“ managed Raja, shaking her head. If she left the corner now-

“Raja,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. She reached out and took Raja’s loose hand, forcefully leading her down the aisle. Very shocked to suddenly be moving, Raja followed her passively, letting herself be led. But when they got to checkout Raja froze again, causing Manila to jerk to a stop. Raja shook her head frantically.

“Are you like actually having a panic attack or something?” asked Manila, concerned, looking carefully into Raja’s expression as Raja suddenly noticed a few loose curls that had come loose from her ponytail, sitting soft and almost weightless on Manila’s head-

“Nope, you’re just really high,” said Manila to herself, shaking her head, and then redirected her. “Self-checkout it is.”

They made it through the self-checkout and paid for the chips even though Raja really didn’t like the beeping machine and kept asking it to be quiet. And then finally Manila led her back outside into the sun. Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to have escaped. They crossed the hot expanse of the parking lot and headed for home. It was rare that weed made her anxious and paranoid like that, but it did happen occasionally.

Manila let go of her hand and Raja immediately missed it, because Manila’s hand was warm and soft and fit nicely in hers. Hmm. Manila always showed up for her, reflected Raja vaguely, she was an exceptionally reliable force in a flakey world. Raja kept walking, gently swinging her plastic bag full of chips as her anxiety faded. Manila said something but Raja wasn’t really paying attention.

“Do you want to come over and play Nintendo?” asked Raja instead. “I’ve got Super Smash Bros.”

“That’s your response to what topic you’re doing for the paper for Professor O’Hara’s philosophy class?” laughed Manila.

“Uh, I’m working on it,” answered Raja, noticing the way the sun caught in Manila’s hair. Had she noticed these things about her before? They’d been friends for a while now, and Raja was pretty sure Manila liked girls too… or was at least willing to experiment. “I’m gonna write about Plato’s Symposium, probably.”

“Yeah, cool,” replied Manila, nodding so that her curly ponytail bounced, “I’ve got about six hundred words on The Republic so far.”

“Are you like dating Alexis?” asked Raja, changing the subject, “Or was that just a casual thing?”

“No,” said Manila, momentarily hesitating, “Well yeah, uh, it was unclear. But we ended it a little while ago, she’s with Yara now.”

“Right, I thought I saw them together. I didn’t realize you two were over.”

“Yeah I mean, you had your own drama going on…”

“Huh?” Raja couldn’t recall any drama in her own life. Raja liked to keep things really chill.

“Uh…” laughed Manila awkwardly, “You were dating Raven and then you broke up with her like super callously right in the middle of that party at Morgan’s and she screamed at you and then knocked that bottle of wine off the table and it broke and went everywhere and someone filmed it-“

“Oh yeah,” said Raja, shrugging and recalling the incident, “Well, she’s a very intense person. I don’t remember you being there, though?”

“I don’t know where you went but I was trying to help Morgan get the stain out of the carpet while she panicked about her damage deposit and Raven locked herself in the bathroom,” said Manila dryly.

“Well,” said Raja, and looked up at her house as the approached, blinking slowly, not sure if she had anything to add to that, “I guess I should apologize to her or whatever. But uh, you should come over anyway, all my roommates are out.”

“Okay, I’ll come up,” said Manila, poking Raja’s arm, “Just to make sure you drink some water and don’t green out on me.”

They went inside and Raja threw herself on to the couch on her side with a bag of chips in her arms, melting down into the cushions with a contented sigh. This was where she was meant to be.

Manila walked in to the kitchen and came back out with two glasses of water, sipping hers and handing the other to Raja.

“Ooh, thank you,” said Raja, half-sitting up to take the glass, and chugged the entire thing, only now noticing she was totally cotton-mouthed and thirsty. Finally hydrated, the munchies were hitting hard and she tore open the bag of chips.

Manila sat down on the couch, shoving Raja’s long legs out of the way.

“Mmm, salt,” commented Manila dryly, taking a handful of chips and shoving them into her mouth. Crunching happily, she wiped her hand on her thigh and asked, “So, where’s the controller?”

Raja pointed it out and Manila picked it up, cancelled out Raja’s long-abandoned game on the screen across from them, and returned to the main menu with a flick of her thumb on the mini joystick. She held the controller with an easy confidence, and it made Raja wonder what else Manila could do with with her hands and how exactly Alexis had benefitted from that…

“Are we gonna play two player or are you just watching?” asked Manila, turning towards her.

Raja considered everything for a moment: the beautiful golden sun streaming in the window, the glorious high she’d relaxed back into, the tasty chips, Manila’s truly beautiful ass that was just about touching Raja’s knee given the way they were positioned, and the fact that, well, Manila was really pretty and recently single and Raja had always preferred casual hookups or friends-with-benefits to relationships anyway, especially given the recent disaster- no, situation, with Raven…

“Do you wanna make out?” asked Raja instead, with what she hoped was a very seductive look.

Manila hesitated for a split second, then burst out laughing and said, “Uh, no?!”

“What, really?” complained Raja. She couldn’t recall the last time a girl had said no to that suggestion. Raven, Mariah, Alaska, Bianca, Shangela, Yvie, Courtney… they’d all been into it, even if just for an afternoon or a night.

“As if!” said Manila, affecting her voice like she was Cher Horowitz before she laughed again and shook her head. Manila leaned forward and flicked through the menus, selecting the single player option, then her character and the arena. With a satisfied little smirk on the side of her mouth, Manila added, “Ask me again when you’re not stoned out of your mind.”

The music played out and Raja sulked and ate her chips and watched Manila play without really seeing it. Being stoned and mildly horny was usually a really fun combination, except when the other person wasn’t interested. Which like never happened! Maybe she’d invite Manila to stay for dinner, let her high fade and they could hang out and maybe things would get interesting a little later in the evening…

“Uh, so,” said Raja again, after watching Manila repeatedly beat the computer generated competition as Pikachu. The screen was starting to hurt her eyes a bit and she put the bag of chips down, craving human contact. Their friendship was platonically affectionate and hopefully that would still be on the table today. “Can I braid your hair?”

“Has anybody ever told you how weird you are?” said Manila in response, jabbing the A-button as she kicked Luigi off the platform.

“People think I’m very cool…”

“Yeah, but that’s what you make them think. I can see right through it, though. You’re afraid of commitment, you’re kind of an anxious bitch and you use weed and the idea of being chill to cover all of that,” stated Manila, “But yeah, you can braid my hair.”

Raja decided to ignore the first part of what Manila had said and sat up, shuffling around behind her until she sat with her legs apart, Manila perched on the edge of the couch cushion between them as she bent forward with her elbows on her knees to play.

While Raja was mentally celebrating the perfect position for hair braiding she’d placed herself in, Manila aggressively jabbed at the controller and kicked the other players off the platform and won the round.

“Sweet,” said Manila, as the victory music played, reaching back and pulling the elastic band out of her ponytail to let her hair spill down her back. Happy and hazy, Raja carded her fingers through Manila’s hair as Manila loaded up another arena.

Manila continued, “Better hope Carmen isn’t mad that I’m beating all her high scores. I’m gonna unlock metallic Peach for her.”

Raja spent an indefinite period of time gently braiding Manila’s beautiful hair in a soothing repetitive pattern as her high slowly faded and Manila kicked ass at Super Smash Bros. Raja hadn’t ever really noticed Manila like this before. They were pretty good friends, and they’d always had a flirtatious undertone, and Manila went out of her way to hang out and even do favours for her… but Raja had always assumed she was just like, nice or whatever, but maybe it was something more that Raja simply hadn’t registered before. Playing with Manila’s hair wasn’t helping Raja feel any less horny, and there a low strum of sexual tension between them that Raja was sure Manila must be picking up on as well.

Suddenly the door opened and Raja looked up, dropping her hands. Delta was in the doorway, calling out a hello. Raja called back to her, vaguely shocked by the existence of other humans in the universe other than herself and Manila.

Manila paused the game and got up off the couch and touched the back of her head, feeling at the multitude of little braids in her hair.

“Ha, I must look a mess,” said Manila, then she stretched her arms over her head, grimacing as her back cracked and continued, “Well, you’re barely high anymore and Delta’s back, so I take it my work here is done. I have to finish that paper tonight, see ya.”

With that, Manila sauntered off towards the door, leaving Raja distinctly abandoned on the couch.

“Uh, bye?” called Raja sarcastically after her as Manila shut the door.

Delta gave her a strong side-eyed look.

“What?” asked Raja.

“Since when are you into Manila?” asked Delta bluntly, sitting down into the couch next to Raja. Delta was keenly observant and it was something Raja admired about her, except when she was on the receiving end of that power.

“Since like an hour ago?” replied Raja, and told her about the grocery store adventure.

Delta laughed and totally roasted her while Raja whined complaints.

“She said to ask again when I’m less stoned, so I’m gonna do that the next time we hang out,” said Raja, with complete faith that the idea would work without any problems whatsoever, “What were you out doing this afternoon anyway?”

“Fooling around with that chemistry major I told you about,” replied Delta smugly, poking Raja’s arm, “I can’t believe you got too high and let a cute girl get away on you, you’re losing your touch.”

“You’re a terrible roommate,” complained Raja, but her smile gave her away, “And she’s not just some cute girl, she’s our friend…”

“Sure, but that can all change real quick if you get intimate…”

“It won’t change anything, it’ll be totally casual,” said Raja, casually, “She’s gotta be into me, she’s always nice, and we’re both like queer or whatever,” Raja flipped her hair over her shoulder and adopted a sexy voice, “So why wouldn’t she wanna make out?”

“You’re so annoying,” laughed Delta, and then shook her head, “Just don’t break her heart, bitch, that’ll make our parties super awkward.”

Then they hung out and made dinner and Raja remembered she was still pretty greasy and took a shower. After that she was really, truly, no longer high and it was time to actually work on her philosophy paper.

But Raja knew that something today had shifted. Maybe getting super high, freaking out in the grocery store and having Manila rescue her had brought something to the surface that always been there. Or maybe the affection and desire was totally new. It didn’t make that much of a difference to Raja. The next time the moment struck, she’d simply ask Manila again if she was interested. If Manila genuinely wasn’t then Raja would leave her alone, they’d remain friends, and she’d move on to someone else. But should Manila say yes… well, that would be super fun, wouldn’t it?

#rpdr fanfiction #everybody knows you're high #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #friends to lovers #dartmouth420 #tw weed #submission

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amiwritesthings · 3 years ago

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Fic Writer Questions

thanks to @venhedish for the tag, this actually got me thinking on a few things lmao

1 ) How many works do you have on AO3?

currently 17, will probably add no 18 tonight. there’s also a bunch only published on ff.net (from when i wasn’t on AO3 yet) and yet another motherload of self-indulgent shit rotting on my hard drive.

2 ) What’s your total AO3 word count?

80781 words, about 60k of that from this year alone. i took a major break from writing 2010ish and really just got back into it during quarantine last year.

3 ) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

7 on AO3. Supernatural, The Last Ship, Walker 2021, Men’s Hockey RPF, TVD, Graceland, Chicago Fire. for purposes of saving myself the embarrassment, we’ll limit this answer to just the AO3 stuff. 😂

4 ) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ooooh boy, maybe a little embarrassment after all.

A Trip to the South (TVD)

hey lookie, my incest glorifying days did not actually start with SPN lol. Salvatore brothers feeding together, blood sharing and enjoying it. I blame this being at the top solely on the fact that it’s been up since 2013 because it’s really nothing special.

when i dream (I’m doing you all night) (SPN)

Collection of (mostly smutty) deanjohn Tumblr prompts, i can blame most of those on other people lmao

Holding on (until it’s over) (Graceland)

Episode Tag to 1x10, Johnny/Briggs because even then i was obsessed with manny montana and i refuse to apologize for it.

11:59 (Men’s Hockey RPF)

Sean Avery/Henrik Lundqvist Hooker!AU, and yeah that’s pretty much it.

even whiskey can’t do (what you do when you kiss me that way)

OG Stanford Era deanjohn first time smut, my first foray into SPN fics.

5 ) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

YES, i try to respond to all comments. sometimes RL gets in the way but as a rule i try to always respond. i love getting comments so i feel like appreciating the time the commenter took to bring me this joy. ♥️

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

boy, this is a hard one. I’m not all that good with writing angst but i guess if I had to pick something i’d say don’t give up now (there’s already so much at stake), mostly because of the character’s frame of mind in general and the impending threat of invading a foreign country to overthrow a dictator the next day while being mentally wrecked.

7 ) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

i’m not against it but i’ve never actually done it.

8 ) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not that I recall. but i guess it wouldn’t be the worst thing, i struggle way more with getting no feedback at all.

9 ) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

do i? DO I? yeah, i do. usually the kind the story requires which can range from soft to awkward to plain filthy. also whatever kind the kinky anons drop in my inbox, i’m trying to keep an open mind.

10 ) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i’m aware of. I don’t really operate in the super popular corners of the fandoms i’m in so i don’t think anyone feels the need to. it’d be pretty obvious to all the 10-20 people who are into that shit anyway lol

11 ) Have you ever had a fic translated?

again, not really running in the popular corners of fandom (rare pairs ftw) so imma say no. I could probably translate them myself but writing in my first language is fuckin awkward so no thank you.

12 ) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I’m a pretty solitary writer. I do love to come play in other writer’s ‘verses though if they don’t mind. i have written a few things in @vintagedean ‘s married!vibes for example (thanks for letting me play, dude!)

13 ) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

jeez, i don’t know. i’ve never really stuck with just one fandom, i’m a notorious multi-fandom multi-shipper. i’m the kind of person who watches eps of 4 different shows in one day and yells at the tv about all of them.

14 ) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

we make a long way from easy lovin‘ look good, baby. i was honestly so invested in this project but then they completely torpedoed this pairing in canon in the worst possible way and i kinda lost the drive to keep writing. i have posted it to my graveyard collection of unfinished stuff for now but i don’t think i will finish it, sadly.

15 ) What are your writing strengths?

creating emotions, hitting you in the feels, or so I’ve been told. i like to think that (given that English is not my first language) just reaching the kind of level i’m at now can be considered a strength.

16 ) What are your writing weaknesses?

run-on sentences, endless run-on sentences. they serve a purpose SOMETIMES but mostly it’s just me and my rambly writing style. and repetition. i have actually started searching my writing docs for specific phrases while editing to catch most of them and rephrase. not being able to include just a bit of angst without it turning into an existential crisis for the character and me. and the worst thing I keep doing that i’m not able to stop is writing shit out of order. i start with the beginning, then some idea for the middle pops up, then I write the end and then I have to somehow weave it all together, it’s so inconvenient and annoying.

17 ) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i speak a few languages (or you know, at least can understand/write/read them) so as long as i’m sure that it’s correct and it fits the story, I’m all for it!! language kink ftw.

18 ) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

it was either music or hockey rpf, i’m not even sure anymore at this point, that was like 20 years ago. nothing that ever got published anywhere lol

19 ) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

my name engraved on your heart, hands down. that is my beloved, my baby, the project nearest and dearest to my heart. i can actually read this and enjoy it without nitpicking my own writing at every turn and i’m just so happy with the overall vibe of it. it’s like a niche in a niche of a fandom thing though, so i get that it doesn’t resonate as strongly with others as it does with me but it is my favorite of favorites.

honorable mention to the house don’t fall (when the bones are good), though, because it’s what got me back into writing and it was my biggest (published) project and that fix-it needed to be written.

i think all my fellow fic writer mutuals have already been tagged in this, so i'm not gonna add y'all again but feel free to steal if this strikes your fancy.

#tag games #writing

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xianglingslesbian · 4 years ago

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ewbts - my top moments

no i will never stop laughing at that abbreviation it’s beautiful. buckle in because this is gonna be long, and probably don’t read it unless you’ve watched/read kuroko’s basketball and like izuki lmaoooo

chapter 1: hatchling, awaken

Izuki swallows. “Why do you all think I can do this?”

Then Kiyoshi turns to him with steel in his eyes (that must be how he got nicknamed Iron Heart - he seriously never backs down!) and asks him very clearly, “Why don’t you?”

Why don’t I think I can be captain?

“Because nobody thought I could be until now.”

aka “ceru is a masochist”, exhibit 1/???. anyway lets hear it for insecurities!!

chapter 2: liftoff

Predictably, Kuroko drags him aside at practice the next day and says, “I have something to tell you, Izuki-senpai.”

Izuki smiles at him. “Is it about your five evil exes?”

Kuroko looks horrified. “My what?!”

i think im funny

chapter 3: crash landing

As Izuki walks off the court, he looks for flashing glasses and grey eyes.

He curses himself for the heavy sadness that falls over him like a blanket when he doesn’t spot them.

yay for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 2!

Oh, he [Izuki] watched videos of Aomine, came up with strategy after strategy to corner him, but videos and strategies can only go so far. Aomine in real life is something else entirely, a flash of lightning setting the court on fire with the sheer elegance of his crazy street basketball. All one can do is sit back and watch, awed beyond belief. Nothing can curb the wild madness that is Aomine Daiki – unrestrained, gleeful insanity dancing across the court like it’s his playground.

i also rlly like this line, it has some pretty imagery and we all know im a slut for pretty imagery~

chapter 4: a broken bone grows back stronger

“All right,” Koganei says to himself, moving to stand in front of the hoop. “One more time.”

He jumps, raising the ball to just above his face and releasing it. It misses, and he lets out a cry of frustration.

Can he even do this? Is it worth the time?

Koganei bites back the wave of guilt that washes over him at the thought. Izuki, Kiyoshi, Tsuchida, Rinnosuke, Kagami, Kuroko – he’d be letting them down if he didn’t give this his best shot. They’re all so dedicated to basketball that they each have a special skill honed from years of practice and love for the sport. If he can’t bring anything of his own to the table, what will he mean to this team? Seirin makes him want to be a team player, to add his skills to theirs rather than shining on his own. The change is good, yes, but he doesn’t want to stop there – he doesn’t want to be useless.

He will not be useless.

a bit of context: in this fic, since hyuuga did not return, koga became the SG for seirin :D i think my favorite character to develop, apart from izuki, was koganei - it was so fun to imagine all the ways he could have gone!

chapter 5: spreading new wings

All too soon, the day of judgment arrives, and Seirin convenes in the gym one last time before they head off to the Winter Cup building. No one says anything; not Kagami, fresh from his training trip to America, not Izuki, not Kiyoshi or Riko. They simply stand there, breathing in the scent of cleaner and leather and something else that’s so entirely Seirin, and knowing that no matter what happens this Winter Cup, they will return to the gym different people than they were before.

Different, and better.

Then they head out and off to the opening ceremony of the Winter Cup, not looking back once as they do.

yay for more pretty words!!!

“Oh, no worries. The actual motivational part is coming. Anyway, as I was saying – Tōō was just better than us that day. It’s hard to admit, I know: far easier to blame yourself, say you didn’t give it your all, but you know; we all know. It was their day to shine, not ours. But I think we’ve worked hard enough and are in a good enough mindset to change that, today. We aren’t scared or apprehensive about Tōō and Aomine, because we’ve faced them before. We know what attitude they’ll walk into our game with, and that’s what we’re going to exploit!”

“You’re going to exploit,” corrects Tsuchida. “Unlike you, the rest of us aren’t manipulative bastards.”

That raises a bunch of cackles, which quiet down when Izuki gives his team a glare. It doesn’t work on Riko, however, who sniggers under her breath and smirks at him.

izuki highkey sucks at pep talks lmao

chapter 6: ride the storm

Kagami and Aomine were made for each other. Made for this rivalry, this intense competition that will push them to their very limits and carry them onto a plane that no ordinary human can reach. Neither can defeat the other per se - they’re destined to stand neck and neck forever. However, one has a trump card on his side; and that trump card can make all the difference in the world.

Aomine Daiki may be strong, but Kagami Taiga is just as good. And damn him if the power of Kagami’s determination coupled with Kuroko’s unshakeable support won’t overwhelm the undisputed king of basketball.

Move aside, light bulb, Izuki thinks vindictively. The tube light is here to replace you.

pretty words. gay words. i love them (aokaga + izuki being a salt man lmao).

chapter 7: eagle versus aegis

“So bitter,” he [Izuki] reflects aloud, answering Himuro’s question.

That’s the emotion in his eyes. That’s what I might have become, if I had let my anger grow.

And suddenly he isn’t seeing Himuro Tatsuya anymore, but a version of himself, a version with darkened eyes and a mocking smile and pain and rage bubbling below the surface. Immensely talented, but not able to break the last barrier. Because he’s an ordinary man, and it’s as much as an ordinary man can do.

Strong, so strong. But also so terribly, heartbreakingly weak. Weak in a way that today’s Izuki Shun will never be.

GOD where do i even start w/this scene its literally everything i’ve ever wanted to write ksjfhsfj

chapter 8: clawing through mirages

Izuki’s taken aback for a millisecond before he continues his mad dash towards Murasakibara, letting out a war cry as the center makes to simply toss the ball into the hoop.

“It wasn’t their intention,” says a quiet but familiar voice. “But, this is the result of Kiyoshi-senpai and the other upperclassmen’s tenacity.”

Izuki grins, feeling new strength fill him up.

Together, huh? Okay. Together.

“This is where it ends for you!” shouts the voice, becoming stronger.

Not one, but two hands knock the ball out of Murasakibara’s hands and onto the ground. Kuroko shimmers into vision, smiling at Izuki with all the happiness in the world, just as the final buzzer rings.

i loved writing this match tbh, yousen is super underrated!

chapter 9: catch the updraft

21 - 22, in their favour at long last. Izuki grins at Kasamatsu, who shakes his head wearily.

“Using my own advice against me. What a terrible student you are,” he says, affecting an old man’s voice.

“The true student is the one who beats the master at his own game,” Izuki says quickly, sliding back into their familiar banter. “I swore to myself, my drive would beat your drive today, kitakore.”

“When did you get so wise?” asks Kasamatsu with a sigh, ignoring his pun and receiving the ball from Kobori, who was quick to grab it once Koga scored. Izuki just laughs, not bothering to reply and instead focusing carefully on Kasamatsu’s movements.

Kasamatsu shifts his weight right, left, then right again. Izuki narrows his eyes, trying to figure out what the hell his upperclassman is doing—

But it’s far too late, as Kasamatsu successfully passes through his defence in his moment of distraction, ball clutched tightly in hand. The sound of the scoring whistle is shrill and unpleasant to Izuki’s ears, and his chest stings at the loss.

“What was that about the main course?” Kasamatsu teases, wearing an enormous grin as he comes forward to guard Izuki once more.

izuki + kasamatsu banter is so so fun to write y’all have no idea

chapter 10: headwinds

This is your fault. If you’d been a better captain, a better point guard, a better everything, none of this would’ve happened. Seirin would have been well in the lead and controlling the game—

Izuki shakes his head violently, trying to get rid of his intrusive thoughts. He knows he’s a good captain, and doing this to himself will do no good for the rest of the team. He has to be strong for them. He has to lead them to victory, he can’t be a weak person overwhelmed by emotion. But it’s so hard to breathe, suddenly, and Izuki’s about to sink when—

“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll take care of this match today,” says a confident and familiar voice, and a hand claps down on Izuki’s shoulder. He turns, a little surprised by the sudden contact, to find Koganei’s cat mouth set in a determined frown. “You can rest your hopes on me. I’ll be Seirin’s wings for as long as you need me to.”

kogazuki brotp feels man. kogazuki brotp feels.

chapter 11: cliff edge

Riko nods, sobering up a little. “I do know. And… I have to admit, I was a little harsh on you in the early days… I kept comparing you to Hyūga-kun.” She looks at the ground briefly, then raises her head to continue, meeting Izuki’s eyes with no hint of doubt in her own brown irises. “But then I saw how different you were. How you were never willing to give up, even if you were the worst player in the world. That’s what… that’s what made me truly believe in you.” She swallows thickly, taking a deep breath, but not averting her gaze from his.

The honesty and trust in her eyes is what shatters Izuki’s calm.

He steps forward, and she rises too, opening her arms. Then he hugs her tightly, murmuring, “Thank you for having faith in me.”

The “Of course. You’re family,” that she whispers back fills Izuki’s already overflowing heart even further.

Eventually, he lets her go, and she drops lightly to the ground, straightening her sweater and skirt.

“We never speak of this,” Izuki warns her, moving towards the door of the room.

Riko nods, back to her usual haughty demeanour. “Of course. No one can know we’re actually big softies who care a lot for each other.”

“To them, we’re just sarcastic jerks,” Izuki agrees. “And that’s the way it stays.”

anyone said izuriko brotp???? this fic is just platonic feels tbh

chapter 12: overcast skies

What should I do? Someone tell me! the voice cries out in Izuki’s head, a voice he hasn’t heard since the loss to Tōō. It is the same voice that whispers all his insecurities in his ear in the dead of night when no one is around to reassure him, the same voice that gave rise to all his fears and worries. It is the voice of the vulnerable and weak part of Izuki, the one that needs someone to guide him with a gentle hand, and he hates it.

It is a voice that, frankly, he never thought he would hear again. Yet, here it is, crying out for attention, screaming for someone to help.

He thought he had left it behind. It turns out he was wrong.

Izuki shoves it deep into his heart with more effort than he’s exerted all game, breathing a heavy sigh when he succeeds in locking it behind the glass wall that keeps his emotions away.

let’s hear it for “ceru is a masochist” exhibit 3~

chapter 13: nosedive

“I don’t know who you are,” Koganei completes his little speech, anger brimming in every part of his being. “But I know that my captain is Izuki Shun, not Akashi Seijūrō. The coach can bench you if she likes; we can fight without our captain, because we know he wants us to win for his sake. We’ve been fighting without him all the match, and we can continue doing so. We don’t need a player that can’t play with the same passion as us!”

Izuki looks at the ground and doesn’t respond. Somewhere within, something is stirring at Koganei’s words. Something that cries out to fill the gap inside him.

Next to speak is Kiyoshi, standing up and executing much the same move as Koga had by yanking Izuki up by his collar. However, Kiyoshi pulls Izuki into a standing position so that Izuki is half-leaning against him.

Brown eyes meet black, and Kiyoshi simply states, “I didn’t expect this from you, Shun.”

Then he rears his fist backwards and punches Izuki in the jaw.

“ceru is a masochist” exhibit 4!

chapter 14: bird of prey

“I just… I didn’t think you’d give up so easily.”

Koganei’s head shoots up. There’s fury in his eyes, and his face is white. His hands are shaking.

Izuki continues, calm and careless as he always is, “Really… after you gave me all that talk at halftime? I don’t believe this is you.”

Koganei’s jaw clenches, and he cries, “But I have done everything I can! He’s just too good—”

“And when has that ever stopped you?” Izuki keeps his voice quiet and even, but it has the gravity he intended it to - Koga falls silent immediately, eyes wide and riveted on him. “When have you ever backed down from fighting? You don’t know the meaning of giving up. You’ve never cared about whether someone’s better than you. I knew a shooting guard once, just like you, and he had the potential to be the greatest in the world. He was held back because he cared that he was worse than others. But you? You never blinked at it, just practised and practised until you could do the impossible.”

His words are getting louder with pride; he’s unable to keep it steady with the outpouring of emotion in his speech.

“Tell me, who can master Ray Allen’s form in one and a half years? Who can be such a rookie at basketball, yet be able to fight an Uncrowned King and respond to a shot that has left all its previous victims unable to move?!” Izuki leans forward and jabs a finger into Koganei’s chest demandingly. “Tell me, who the hell was that?!”

“Me,” Koga whispers timidly, looking down.

ahhhh yay for more platonic comfort and bonding. *izuki voice* yelling is the way to get ur team to get their shit tgt

chapter 15: born to soar

Izuki finds himself moving, barely thinking as he grabs the ball and bawls for an attack. He’s running faster than he ever has, flying up the court like there are wings on his legs. No one follows at his pace - they’re all too far behind.

No one but Kiyoshi.

The rhythm beats louder than ever, a heavy pulse in Izuki’s head and heart. He can feel Akashi on his heels and knows he needs to do something.

One second left—

Izuki’s hands move on their own, passing the ball to the one person he knows that he will always find.

Kiyoshi catches it and jumps.

Fortyfivethirtyfivetwentyfivefifteen—

The ball leaves his hands.

Fivezero—

The whistle blows to end the game. Kiyoshi’s shot hits the backboard and drops straight into the basket. Time stops as a shrill sound screeches into the air and the ref shouts, “124 to 123, Seirin High wins the Winter Cup!”

there we go. the most heartwrenching scene of this chapter ahhhhh

chapter 16: final flight

“We should go. Don’t want to keep them waiting too long,” Kiyoshi says, staring daggers at Hyūga, who to his credit doesn’t flinch but merely stares back.

“Let’s go, then,” Izuki agrees. He looks straight at Hyūga and allows a small, formal smile to play on his lips. Hyūga just nods, accepting the answer.

Izuki nods back, then turns around and starts walking away. But even as he moves toward the exit, something weighs heavily in his tired chest. For the first time in a long time, he isn’t confident in his decision.

Acting on impulse, he turns on his heel and yells out, “Call sometime, maybe!” before walking backwards out the door that Kiyoshi holds for him.

It’s an open-ended suggestion. Hyūga can choose to wallow and ignore it, or he can choose to pick up the phone. Izuki isn’t going to do so either way - he’ll be happy if Hyūga makes that call, but he won’t be terribly sad if he doesn't.

This time, he’s going to be the one that walks forward without looking back.

ahhh okay so this scene means a hella lot to me personally because... i had to grow, the way izuki grew. izuki’s now strong enough to sort of put the olive branch out and say, “take it or leave it,” and if it’s left he’s not gonna be upset. that’s something i really learned with a lot of difficulty and i think that that growth - in both me and him - is a lovely thing.

and there we have it! my favorite moments from each chapter of this story. *cries in a corner* god i can’t believe it’s over...

THANK YOU FOR THE JOURNEY!

#knb #izuki #eagles were born to soar #izuday #ceru writes

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