#yeah it's great we got a medal let's enjoy it while it lasts
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
"yeah, well, enjoy it while it lasts" [crawling out of the wreckage of this episode] thanks for the advice tommy i really did
#911 spoilers#911 lb#nat.txt#i do think tommy's like. kneejerk pessimism/cynicism is so interesting! no need to worry about getting fired we're all gonna die#yeah it's great we got a medal let's enjoy it while it lasts#buck's sunshine optimism and unwillingness to put down any battles i think is going to be so good for him and his soul#and i think it'll make him indulge those things in buck where other previous partners maybe haven't as much!#i don't necessarily think he's an inherently pessimistic/cynical character but i think that's how he self-protects. like the closet comment#which makes sense! given his professional history that we've just seen on-screen it's like. yeah i'd be cynical as a defense mechanism too#''he's a side character / love interest / plot device!!'' not to me he isn't!!! he's my new friend
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Transcript Below
[Dan Rosen] So let's get to that interview we had with Jack Hughes. We talked to him at the Player Media Tour in Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago. Here is our interview with Jack Hughes.
Sean, we're here with the cover star, the cover athlete, one of three cover athletes for EA Sports. You've talked about it. I've read some stuff about it, so I don't want to go too deep into it, but just how cool is that?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, doing it with Quinn and Luke, obviously really special. I think we're the first set of brothers to be on the cover. So I think most NHL guys grew up playing NHL.
So that was definitely a massive honor that, you know, we're lucky to be a part of.
[Shawn Roarke] Have you had fights over the rankings yet? Over your player rankings? Who's got the best one, do you know?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, we know. I think it's in the right order, I'd say, with how last year went. All right.
[Dan Rosen] Do you still play?
[Jack Hughes] I used to when I was in like my third year in the league. I played a lot, honestly, I can't lie.
And then I kind of was like, enough's enough. And I've never been much of a gamer, so. But that one year I played a lot.
[Dan Rosen] So did you play, were you yourself?
[Jack Hughes] No, no, but I did enjoy playing HUT for a while there and grinding that. That was pretty fun. So like that's that's honestly why it's the coolest part, just because, you know, we grew up playing it.
Like that was like coming into the NHL, that was definitely a goal of mine. Like I was like, oh, I would love to be on the cover one day. And then to do it with Quinn and Luke is is even more special.
[Shawn Roarke] This season is going to be special for so many reasons. One, you guys are healthy again. You've added a lot during the offseason.
People are really excited. And you start in Europe.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I mean, the Europe part is definitely exciting. I think the last like week or so has been, I think, like a bit a bit off in the whole hockey world, with the Gaudreau thing. So that's obviously sad, but it's a damper on the season a little bit.
But, you know, once we get going, I think we'll be excited to get to Europe and get the year going. So I think we got a good group. I'm looking forward to get going.
[Dan Rosen] Since you brought it up, I did want to ask you. I mean, he had such an impact on a lot of players. Did he have an impact on you?
[Jack Hughes] No, I can't say I was like a massive fan in terms of like watching him play all the time and stuff. But, you know, I think the, you know, American players like to stick together a good amount. I don't know how other countries are, but I feel like with the U.S.A. hockey guys, there's kind of a brotherhood there where, you know, people play with each other at Worlds or All-Star games, whatever it may be. So, you know, I played with him at Worlds, played with him in an All-Star game. And obviously I know a lot of people that were close to him. So just a sad thing for for the whole family.
[Shawn Roarke] One of Johnny's great achievements, among many, was Team North America's leading scorer for that team. You were a little bit behind that. I'm curious what your thoughts were in watching it and what you think the legacy of that team is when you think about all the players that were on that team and how great they all ended up being.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I mean, I didn't even know he led that team in points. You know, I remember him from World Juniors when he was overseas and they won gold medal. I think Seth Jones was the captain.
So that was like the first memory I have of watching him play. But yeah, that North American team was pretty crazy. You know, I was I was a young guy then.
I was like 14 or 15. So watching that was pretty, pretty crazy seeing where all those guys are now and that they're all on one team.
[Dan Rosen] Flipping it back to you guys and your team and yourself. I mean, Sean touched on it. I mean, the additions are notable.
Markstrom, Pesci, Dillon, Dougie's back. Dougie Hamilton's back. You're healthy.
I would imagine you're healthy after shoulder surgery. Are you good to go?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I feel good and excited going into the year, you know, feel feel like my body's in a really good spot. And with how the season went last year, you know, pretty frustrating with, you know, just personally not playing. And, you know, the team really performing not how we were supposed to.
So I think we got to definitely a rejuvenated squad with with new players and new coaching staff and, you know, the guys that were there. We're excited to, you know, get back to where we were two years ago.
[Dan Rosen] Because of the additions, because of the health factor right now and the optimism everybody has going into a season, does it feel for you that this team can make last year just a blip and really what it is is more of what you were two years ago?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, it's I mean, at the end of the day, I think I don't know if it's a blip. I think we we underperformed big time last year. And that's that's on us.
And that's something we're going to have to, you know, remember heading into this year, but it's a learning curve. And we're a group that's going to be hungry going into this year. But like I said, we got a lot of new faces and a new coaching staff.
So a lot of new things going on in New Jersey. So camp will be important. You know, we'll be excited to go for the season.
[Shawn Roarke] You've done Europe once before with so many new players. How important is that trip going to be to bring everybody in and have that bonding experience?
[Jack Hughes] Uh, yeah, it'll be big, you know. I don't know if it'll be like like life or death, but, you know, it'll be good for the guys in the team that, you know, have kids and stuff and all the new guys to kind of get acquainted with the group. And I think we have a really welcoming locker room to start with.
So I don't think it'll be too hard for anyone to fit in. But, you know, for us to go overseas for about a week there and, you know, just be with the guys and just the boys and being able to be a team, that'll be pretty important for us. And I think an exciting time for our whole group.
[Dan Rosen] Obviously, Sheldon Keefe being the new coach, too, very helpful for him getting over there with you guys as well. What have you gotten from him so far? I'm sure you've talked to him a few times.
Like, what's the the vibe you get and the, you know, the conversation's been like?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I've had a few good talks with him. Haven't spoken to him face to face yet. So looking forward to do that.
But, you know, I watch the Leafs a lot. I watch how they play. And, you know, I'm really looking forward to just picking his brain.
You know, developing a relationship where, you know, I understand what he's doing and he understands the kind of person I am and the player I am. So I'm excited to get that going.
[Shawn Roarke] Last year, obviously, goaltending was one of the issues you've had. Tom addressed it. How important is that going into a season when you know that you have two NHL goaltenders on your roster that have proven what they can do in this league?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I mean, it's hard to just use the goalies as a scapegoat for last year. I think that was like a minor problem to what we had. You know, we had obviously we dealt with a lot of injuries.
We lost some good pieces. And at the end of the day, we were kind of just a looser group. Not as hard to play against.
And, you know, we gave up too many chances and we just thought we could probably outscore teams, you know. So it worked for us in the past. And last year we got sloppy, I'd say.
So obviously we are good goalies. We're excited for Marky and Allen to be with our group this year. But I think the root of the problem is just how we played as a team.
And hopefully we can clean that up for this year.
[Dan Rosen] So do you want to forget about last season and move on from it? Or does it serve as a useful tool?
[Jack Hughes] I mean, I don't think you can forget about any season, you know. I mean, it's still my fifth year in the league. I'm always going to look back on it and be like, that was an up and down season.
And, you know, our team underperformed. But that should be something that helps us in the future, you know. I think a lot of people expected us to be a playoff team for good after we made the playoffs the one year.
And, you know, we took a step back. But that just means we'll be a hungrier group and, you know, a more focused group going into the season.
[Dan Rosen] Dougie Hamilton's back too. And you didn't have him for really almost the whole season. I mean, it was a long time that he missed.
He plays such a vital role for you guys. The impact that he makes when he's on the ice. I wonder if you could just describe it.
What he does to help you guys with the role that he plays.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, I mean, we brought in Luke and Nemec who both had great years. And, you know, they're going to be massive parts of our future here. But at the end of the day, Dougie did have 74 points.
So it's hard to replace 22 goals and 74 points or whatever he had. And, you know, he's got that big shot on the back end. And just another threat.
I think if we can go into a game with Luke and Dougie and these guys coming off from the back end, you know, it's pretty dangerous. Just being able to hit these guys late and create chances off the rush. So I think Dougie just adds another layer to our game where we're a little more dangerous.
More offense on the back end where we can kind of not just roll them over as one line. But, you know, we throw Luke over one line and we roll him over. Then we throw Dougie on and then we throw Nemec.
You know, that's pretty good for offensive defensemen. So that'll be pretty good for our group.
[Shawn Roarke] He's such an interesting guy, Dougie Hamilton. Ton of different interests. He did that video when you guys had not your schedule, which he was hilarious.
And I'm curious what he does for your team in the locker room and off the ice.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, Dougie, I didn't even see that video. I don't even know what you're talking about. But Dougie's a super nice guy.
Really, really nice guy. Honestly, you know, not a bad bone in his body. So he's definitely not the loudest guy or, you know, the best, the biggest leader in the group.
But, you know, I think he's a guy that most guys in the team can go talk to and have a good combo with. And he's a really caring and nice guy. So not having him around was definitely different last year.
And, you know, be nice to him back in the locker room.
[Dan Rosen] All right, the big question. What's Luke's living situation? Is he living with you again?
Or is he getting his own place?
[Jack Hughes] Just under my wing. No, but we're going to live together again.
[Dan Rosen] Yeah.
[Jack Hughes] I don't see why we…
[Dan Rosen] Why not, right?
[Jack Hughes] We wouldn't.
Like, why wouldn't you want to live with your bro?
[Dan Rosen] Yeah. Is he a good roommate?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah, he's good. I mean, he's my brother. It's not like I'm, like, all over him.
Like, I lived with him my whole life. So now he just happens to be way bigger and even messier. But he's a good roommate.
[Shawn Roarke] Well, I was going to say the dynamic changes, right? Without parents around enforcing discipline and everything else. You guys have to do that among yourselves.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah. I mean, I can't say I'm busting him about, you know, things. I'm just letting him do his thing.
So he's doing okay.
[Dan Rosen] He really has come along. What did you see from him last year in terms of his growth and the impact that he made in his first full season and what he can now be?
[Jack Hughes] Yeah. I mean, I think something that's, you know, not spoken about enough is the fact he played all 82 games. You know, that's, in my mind, that's really impressive going from college.
And, you know, I think when kids leave college, they're always talking about how they'll adjust to the pros playing 40 games to go on to play 82. And, you know, Luke played 82 hockey games. And I think that's really impressive.
And then on top of that, you know, he had a good season offensively. He's just going to continue to grow his game. You know, I think he's different than Quinn in terms of he's bigger, he defends better.
And I just think Luke will be a hell of a player. But, you know, I think the product we see at 21 is going to be a lot different than 25. But I think with the way he's trending, we're going to have a hell of a player this season.
And the season's coming ahead, the same thing.
[Shawn Roarke] You talked about doing the EA cover with your two brothers. Did you guys spend any time this summer talking about the Four Nations and the opportunity that sits there in a couple of months to do something very similar and very notable as a family?
[Jack Hughes] Honestly, not really. The three of us live together in our house and we didn't even… I don't think we talked about that once.
You know, I don't know if we really talked about that. But we were definitely excited for Quinn when he got named to that team. And then regarding me and Luke, we just want to put our best foot forward and we'll see where it goes.
[Dan Rosen] I did have one last question for you. We recently talked with Macklin Celebrini. Number one draft pick coming into the league.
Any advice for him?
[Jack Hughes] No, he'll be just okay. You know, he's a really good kid and a really good player. So I honestly haven't tuned into a Sharks game in a long time.
But I'm going to be keeping tabs on Mack for sure.
[Shawn Roarke] I have to ask you one last question too. This is the 20th year that Sidney Crosby is going to be playing in the league. Do you have a favorite Crosby memory?
[Jack Hughes] I think like growing up, I used to… He had a movie when he went in like 2009 when they were in that cup run against the Wings. And it was the year they played the Winter Classic.
So I grew up, me and my brothers, we watched that movie in Miracle on Ice like hundreds of times. It was like, I think it was called Sidney Crosby on the ice and beyond. And probably the Winter Classic shootout goal.
Like that's a classic Sid moment. I'm sure if you're a Canadian, it's got to be his Olympic gold medal. Yeah.
But I hate seeing that. But…
[Shawn Roarke] All three of us hate seeing that. And two of us saw it live and we really hated it.
[Jack Hughes] 20 years is crazy though because he was like Sid the Kid. And now he's like in his 20th year. Like that's pretty crazy.
[Shawn Roarke] Him and Ovi both.
[Jack Hughes] Yeah. Wow.
[Dan Rosen] Yeah. You'll get there one day. Jack, thanks so much, man.
Really appreciate it. All right.
[Jack Hughes] Yep.
97 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tell me about ye olde "cold case outline"
Ooooo I was hoping someone asked about this one when I first posted the ask game!!!!
From this ask game
Cold Case Outline
This is another WIP that my sister and I did that we actually fully fleshed out, but I am still holding out a bit of hope that one day I’ll actually write the damn thing.
Simon is a mechanic and Baz is an Instagram model. They first meet when Baz brings his Jag in, and he’s immediately enamored with Simon in his oil-stained tank top, messy curls, and freckles. Simon immediately falls in love with Baz’s Jag and fawns over it, which does not help Baz’s predicament. He starts coming to the shop as often as possible with any excuse he can think of (oil change, tire rotation, “the building is just very aesthetic, Snow, so I need you to take my picture while I pose all sexy”). He even keys his own car at one point to have an excuse to visit him (it was a moment of desperation and he’s not proud of it, but he stands by his actions).
Simon lives with Penny and Shepard. Shepard is very into true crime and is hoping to start a podcast of his own about it. Shep visits Simon at work one day, but he gets very quiet and starts staring at Baz when he walks in to drop off the Jag, looking like he’s seen a ghost. Baz is visibly uncomfortable, so Simon kicks Shep out until Baz is good to go. He asks Shep what the hell that was all about afterwards, and Shep is like “that’s Baz Pitch”. “Yeah, and?” “Like, Natasha and Malcolm Grimm-Pitch’s son?! From the 2002 Olympics! Do you think he’d let me interview him for my podcast?”
It turns out, Baz isn’t just mildly famous for his Instagram presence. In 2002, when he was just five years old, his mother was an Olympic figure skater. The day of her event, she didn’t show up to warm-ups. She was found dead under suspicious circumstances over a week later. There are clips of some of her last moments where she acts erratically that went viral, and her case has fascinated the public ever since.
We didn’t get far on actually writing out this story, but what I did finish is a news report that explains the circumstances of Natasha’s death 👀 I’ve included it under the cut if anyone wants to read it! I’m actually pretty damn proud of how it turned out and have always wanted to share it, so I hope y’all enjoy :)
Natasha Grimm-Pitch Death Still Stumps People 20 Years Later
Natasha Grimm-Pitch, world-renowned ice dance figure skater from Great Britain and 3x Olympic medalist, went missing on February 9th, 2002. That morning, her husband and partner, Malcolm Grimm, woke up to find she had not returned in the night. Assuming she had stayed the night with her sister, Fiona Pitch, who had traveled with the pair in order to watch their 5-year-old son, Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch, while they competed, Grimm got ready for the day’s competition, but began to grow worried when Pitch met him at the Salt Lake Ice Center without her sister. She had met Grimm to take Tyrannus, known as “Baz” by those close to the family, but was shocked to find out that Grimm-Pitch had not returned to the couple’s room in the Olympic Village.
“Nat had come over the night before, yeah,” Pitch said, when interviewed about the disappearance the day after the event. “She came over to my hotel room to get some stress relief. I mean, this was her moment. She’d been out of the public eye for a while, after having Baz, and felt like she needed to medal in order to prove herself. I couldn’t tell you who she was proving herself to, though. She never cared what other people thought of her; not even me.”
Grimm was hesitant to alert the police, hoping that his wife had stayed with a teammate, but couldn’t hesitate any longer once warm-up was scheduled to start and she had yet to make an appearance.
“Nat would never have missed a warm-up, especially not now. She’s always on time. Something happened to her,” Grimm told the press the day of the disappearance. Grimm-Pitch’s disappearance caused a stir in the Olympic Village, especially amongst her teammates.
“I knew Natasha. That woman was a force to be reckoned with. When I heard that Malcolm had forfeited their position, I knew something was wrong. Everyone was uneasy as soon as we heard. I think we all knew, deep down, what must have happened. None of us even saw Natasha take a sick day. There was no way in hell she was going to let something stop her from competing again,” said teammate, Mitali Bunce, a year after her disappearance.
A mass investigation was launched into the disappearance, with state and local police leading the search. Grimm searched the streets with his sister-in-law in the hopes of finding her, often leaving their child in the care of the other British athletes. Though the ice dance competition continued, this would not be the case for long.
Natasha Grimm-Pitch’s body was found, washed-up in nearby Farmington Bay, on February 20th, just over a week after her disappearance. The Olympic Village, and the world, watched on in shock as her death was officially announced by the Salt Lake City Police Department at 11:08 AM. The Olympic Committee officially suspended what remained of the ice dance competition that evening, putting out a statement about the tragedy:
“In light of the recent tragedy involving ice dancer, Natasha Grimm-Pitch, the Olympic Committee has unanimously decided to suspend the ice dance competition for the remainder of the Olympic season. We ask the figure skating community to come together at this time to honor her legacy and mourn her loss. The Committee will reconvene in the next month to determine when the events will be completed.”
Her body was flown back to the family’s home in Hampshire, UK, but the FBI stayed in contact with British authorities for the resulting investigation. In the coming months, the mystery only grew. According to her autopsy, Grimm-Pitch had been dead for around 230 hours, placing her death sometime on the evening of February 10th, the day after she went missing. To make the case more shocking, she had only been submerged in the water for five days upon being found, meaning there was a six day gap between her death and her body being, supposedly, dumped in the bay. Despite this, she appeared to have died of natural causes, with nothing to indicate that she had resisted an attacker. There were already rumors in the news surrounding foul play, but things really exploded once security camera footage was made publicly available in April 2002.
In a now infamous clip, Grimm-Pitch is shown entering the Olympic Village at 3:00 AM, missing her shoes and the bag her sister claimed she left her hotel room with. Grimm-Pitch appears to be disoriented, running to hide behind walls and looking around wildly, despite no one being in the vicinity. The footage lasts six minutes, with Grimm-Pitch circling the building she was staying in, even briefly entering the entranceway before stumbling back out.
Her erratic behaviour combined with the confounding circumstances around her actual death threw the media into a frenzy. Every major news outlet reported for over a month with updates in the case, but no suspects were ever identified. It seemed that there were no leads whatsoever. The figure skating community and the true crime community alike waited with bated breaths to find if her death was ruled a suicide, homicide, or accident.
Unfortunately, the answer never came. In 2013, the case was unofficially closed after over a decade with no new information. The case has gone down as one of the most shocking and mysterious disappearances in British and American history alike. The Grimms and Pitches are still desperate for answers, though.
A year after the death of his wife, Malcolm Grimm officially announced his campaign for Prime Minister in the United Kingdom. Despite critics saying he was using Grimm-Pitch’s death to further his political aspirations, which had begun in 1997 with the birth of his son, he won the seat. With his victory, the most popular conspiracy theory surrounding Grimm-Pitch’s death was born.
Many people believe that Grimm knew their performance would fail, leading to them fading from the public eye. To prevent this, Grimm chose to murder his wife and use the sympathy he garnered following her death to get elected. He, allegedly, drugged her, waited for her to die, and hid her body in their room until, six days later, the police grew suspicious of him, so he dumped her body in the bay as a cover-up. Proponents of this theory claim that the mortician performing the autopsy was paid off to lie about finding drugs in her system.
Another popular theory surrounds Fiona Pitch. Pitch has a record of substance abuse, so theories have circulated about her, accidentally or otherwise, giving Grimm-Pitch more than she could handle (despite multiple sources stating that she never used drugs). The theory states that Grimm-Pitch managed to leave her sister’s hotel room before she started experiencing delusions and paranoia. Her sister, who had aided in the search for her, then found her body six days later, dead from overdose, and dumped her in the bay to avoid indicating herself in manslaughter. Many point to a 1995 case involving Pitch where her boyfriend, Nicodemus Petty, overdosed in their London apartment. Pitch herself barely survived the ordeal, but was saved when Petty’s sister, Ebeneza Petty, happened to visit that morning and was able to call paramedics. Pitch was convicted of illegal substance abuse and spent five years in rehabilitation facilities. She claims that she has been clean ever since.
Others believe that it was simply a case of mania, despite Grimm-Pitch’s nearly spotless mental health record. She had been prescribed Wellbutrin following the birth of her son, but stopped using it after only a year. To this day, the case remains unsolved.
Despite the rumors surrounding the family, they have seen unbelievable success. Grimm still enjoys a successful political career, but the star of the show is Tyrannus “Baz” Grimm-Pitch. He has grown a large following online, amassing thirty million followers on his Instagram since its creation in 2018. Grimm-Pitch enjoys a life as an Instagram model with an estimated net worth of nearly $10 million. Despite being in the limelight since his mother’s death, he has yet to publicly comment on the infamous case. His aunt acts as his manager, but abstains from all public appearances.
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Grand Slam - Epilogue 3
Location: Yumenosaki Grounds (Sports Festival) Characters: Tomoya & Aira
< A few hours later. During lunch break on Day 3 of the “Old-Fashioned Sports Festival”. >
Aira: …………
Tomoya: Here, Shiratori. Water.
Aira: Whaa, uhh, thanks, Mashiro-senpai. I got kinda scared of water after hearing that story yesterday so my throat’s parched…
Tomoya: Take that ♪
Aira: Gyaa~!? I thought you were going to let me drink it but you just splashed it all over me!
Oh geez, now I’m all wet… Why’d you do that? I don’t know how to react even if you do weird stuff like that out of the blue!
What, is this bullying? Are you harassing me because I’m one of your enemies?
Tomoya: Sorry. I figured you haven’t been keeping hydrated because your skin and hair both look kinda shrivelled up. So I thought it’d be better if you were covered with some water.
Aira: Well, I do feel refreshed.
Tomoya: Make sure you’re hydrated, though. We’ve both just recovered from not feeling well, after all.
Aira: Take this!
Tomoya: Ugyaa!?
Aira: Heheh, that’s payback! Now, you’re all wet too, Mashiro-senpai~♪
Tomoya: Don’t hug me like that… My temperature’s been rising because of the abnormal weather and it feels suffocating.
It’s fine, though. Being relied on by someone younger is a new but nice feeling.
Aira: …………
Tomoya: What’s wrong~? You’ve had that dark look on your face for a while now.
Cheer up~ We’ve finally reached the last day of the “Old-Fashioned Sports Festival” after some twists and turns, so once you overcome the rest of today, we’ll be back to our good old days.
You’ve gotta hold out a bit longer, Shiratori. I know you can do it ♪
Aira: Yeah. …But, is this really okay?
Tomoya: What do you mean? Even after the second day, it’s a deadlock where “Team StarPro”, “Team NewDi” and “The RhyLin and CosPro Alliance” are basically standing shoulder-to-shoulder with one another.
If everyone keeps their focus and continues to give their all, any team can come out as the winner.
Maybe you guys in “Team StarPro” went too hard for the first half, but it feels like you guys are out of breath already.
For us in “The RhyLin and CosPro Alliance”, it just feels like it’s the start of both our agencies coming together as one – In other words, it feels as though our engine is just getting warmed up.
“Team NewDi” just barely managed to be in first place after yesterday’s stability, so they’re pretty strong. It’s totally possible for us to turn the tables around too.
Aira: It’s not that. I’m not interested in the battle. We “Team StarPro” aren’t aiming for victory but to have fun, remember? On the outside, anyway.
Tomoya: Don’t say that. I was pretty touched after hearing that speech of yours on the first day, you know?
Aira: Yeah. I think it would be great if we could just have fun and enjoy the event while also getting good results too. Everyone in our team would be smiling with the gold medal in our hands…
That’s why, as the leader, I’m doing my best to make sure everyone is smiling and having a good time… Well, I say that, but I’m not really doing much.
Rather than using the opinions of the upperclassmen in “Trickstar” who tend to recklessly meddle in things, I’ve been prioritising the new students who have been hesitant about voicing their opinions.
I’m also a new student like them. There’s no way I can also voice my opinions to our scary and famous idol upperclassmen.
But, even though we’re new students or underachievers, we should also have the right to enjoy the event.
Tomoya: ………♪
Aira: Oh, uh, you’ve got nothing to do with that, though, huh. That’s embarrassing.
Tomoya: No, you’re amazing. When I was your age, I was so focused on myself, I couldn’t even pay attention to the people around me.
Aira: I can’t do that, either, you know? But a lot of people like Yuuki-senpai supported me by giving that speech.
So compared to the summer, things have gotten a bit easier now.
Tomoya: I see. That must mean you’ve grown after gaining a lot of different experiences.
…I wonder how much I’ve grown in comparison.
Uuu~... Exceptional people grow at a faster rate and they overtake and leave people behind really quickly, so it only makes me more anxious.
Aira: No no, what’re you saying? You’re amazing, Mashiro-senpai. That annoying– I mean, weird– I mean, that big attitude– No, uhh…
Anyway, RhyLin and CosPro have a lot of unique and diverse idols and you’re the one who got them to come together, right?
I’m a leader too but seeing it from the sidelines made me realise how amazing it was.
Tomoya: I didn’t really do anything special, though.
I’ve somehow known the famous idols in our team for more than a year, so I know what they’re thinking.
I was just the mediator and made sure they didn’t argue. I also made adjustments and chose the events where everyone could let their individuality and talents shine…
Well, I’m somehow managing as the leader. It’s probably what a “producer” should be normally doing, but they’re in a neutral position this time round.
← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂ Next Chapter →
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bad Boys (6) - She’s ours (FIN)
Summary: New to town, a goody-two-shoes, you catch the attention of not one but two guys. Too bad they are the ‘bad boys’ and your ‘dad’ tries to protect you.
Pairing: Biker!Alpha!Bucky x Reader x Omega!Biker!Alpha!Steve
Warnings: A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, angst, language, protective alphas, scenting, true mates, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, violence, blood, pregnant omega, Steve freaks out there for a minute
Characters: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, unnamed deputies
A/N: Reader is Tony Stark's goddaughter. This is an AU/A/B/O setting. I have a thing for Biker /BuckySteve so bear with me.
Bad Boys masterlist
The beautiful text divider was created by @firefly-graphics
“Aw, I like your decoration, Bucky,” admiring Bucky’s room at the clubhouse you hum to yourself, wander around, or stop to pick a few things up. “I like the little bike bookend. Where did you get it?”
“Flea market, doll,” Steve smirks when his friend’s cheeks turn pink. “Bucky likes to go to the flea market and buy useless crap.”
“I like flea markets too,” excitedly you jump at Bucky, tug at his leather jacket to make him look at you. “Do you want to go with me next time? Oh! We could buy some things for Stevie’s house.”
“Please, don’t—” the blonde groans when you won’t stop talking about decorating, the flea market, and how you wish you could all move in together.
“Please—Stevie,” you whine. “I want to find something nice for your house, alpha. It’s nice but needs the woman’s touch. You’ve got no clue how pretty it could look.”
“Like my room,” Bucky states, grinning at his friend. “See, our omega loves my room and my decoration.”
“Except for the picture over there,” pointing at the wall you scrunch up your nose. “Why do the dogs on the picture play poker? They look like drunk gangsters or something. I don’t like it, Bucky.”
“It’s a classic,” defending his picture Bucky mutter under his breath. “None of you got a clue how hard I fought for that thing. There was a punk offering buck after buck for it at the flea market.”
“Did you lose?” grinning you place your hand onto Bucky’s chest. “I mean, you ended up bringing it home.”
“I won, doll. I paid ten bucks for it,” he grins. “Punk had to go home empty-handed.”
“See, no taste—” Steve insists. “None of you will ruin my house with crappy decoration. That’s my last word!”
“B-but, Stevie,” you cry, eyes big and wet now, “you’re not a bachelor anymore! You’ve got a mate now, an omega. I want to feel safe and comfortable when I visit you. Don’t you want me around?” choking on your words you hide your face in Bucky’s chest. “Do you already regret your claim?”
“Great job, Steve. Now she’s crying and I got no house for her to decorate,” grumbling Bucky runs one hand over your hair, tries to soothe you while you smirk to yourself.
None of your alphas can see you played Steve well. “No—no! Baby doll, you can redecorate anything you want to. Maybe even bring that ugly picture with you. I’ll do anything, omega.”
“How often can I visit you?” you nuzzle Bucky’s neck; enjoy he holds you tightly. “I don’t want to disturb your solitary, Steve.”
“I-I want you to move in with me,” Steve blurs out, gasping as you turn around to look up at him with wide eyes. “I mean, shit—uh erm, that’s a bit sudden I guess. We should talk about our bond first. It’s a bit different from normal bonds with one alpha.”
“Can Bucky move in too? Can we buy a huge bed and share it? Oh, I want a large bathtub for us to share too and a shower! Imagine all the sex with could have!” you babble, slowly stepping toward Steve. “Please—alpha?”
“Oh, crap,” Bucky snickers when Steve whines low in his throat. You nuzzled your face in his chest and now the rough biker fights his alpha to not give in to everything you demand. “She’s got your balls in her hands.”
“Perfect, alpha,” smiling you look at the bookshelf. Bucky brought his belongings, including the bookend you love so much. “Right, Stevie? It looks awesome.”
“Yeah, awesome,” Steve gave up the moment you demanded you need three more pillows on the couch. Now you are busy redecorating his living room.
He sighs deeply but tries to remember you are an omega who tries to create a cozy home for her alphas.
“Look at the pictures I placed on the fireplace, Steve. I want to take some of you, Bucky, and me too. I want to fill our house with our love.”
“Uh-she’s in nesting mood,” Bucky whispers. “Do I need to know anything, Steve? Did we get her full of pups already? I think her breasts grew too.”
“WAIT-WHAT?” panicked Steve glances at your chest, tries to figure out if your breasts are fuller. “It’s only a month. I mean, she was in heat but we—”
“Didn’t use anything, Steve,” smirking Bucky watches you usher toward the couch to place one last pillow next to the others. “Do I have to explain how sex works? If she wasn’t on anything, we got her round.”
“Round? Pups?” panting heavily now Steve clutches one hand to his chest. “Fuck—Stark will kill us!”
“Tons won’t kill you, alpha,” humming happily you nod to yourself. “I’m done here. Can we go to the bedroom now? I wanna cuddle with you on the new bed you and your friends built.”
“S-sure,” Steve’s eyes drift toward your belly and he swallows thickly. “Uh-Y/N are you on birth control?” you giggle at Steve’s words but don’t answer his question. you brush past him, grinning as he follows you like a nervous puppy. “Omega? Doll?”
“I wasn’t when we mated if that’s what you are trying to ask, Steve—”
Steve’s head is spinning when you walk upstairs, giggling as Bucky runs after you to sniff at your neck. “Damn me, omega. You smell like us. Stevie, I think we filled her good.”
“I-I need a minute here, Buck,” Steve pants. “Go ahead. I’ll be right with you, guys…”
“Where have you been Steve? Y/N was waiting for you for half an hour,” Bucky tuts. He growls when you hide your face in the cushions. “Look what you did! She wanted to cuddle with us on the nest she made.”
“We need to use one of these,” Steve place a paper bag filled with pregnancy tests onto the bed. “I want to know if she’s pregnant.”
“Alpha,” you purr low in your throat. Before he can blink you snatch the bag from the bed to hide it behind your back. “Can’t you scent me and tell me if I’m expecting?”
“I can barely focus on anything, doll. All I want is to cradle and scent you right now. I-I need to know if I filled you with pups,” the alpha purrs, much to Bucky’s amusement.
The brunette sits next to you, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “Steve, just scent our omega. Her scent changed and this means our girl is expecting.”
“How’d you wanna know, Buck?”
“I read books about omegas and true mates. She smells more like me and you now. I think we both filled her with our pup,” humming you snuggle closer to Bucky to hide your face in his chest.
“Please, alpha,” you whine, hoping Steve’s not mad at you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was in heat and lost control.”
“Baby doll,” Steve purrs low in his throat, ready to pounce on you. “I’m not mad, Y/N. This is just a little overwhelming. I finally found my true mate, mated her to share her with my best friend and now she’s pregnant. I need a moment to realize I need to change my life.”
“I want my big bad biker to cuddle me,” whimpering in distress you look at Steve. “Please.”
“Alright, doll. Let me kick my boots off and we can cuddle.”
After joining you and Bucky on the bed, Steve sighs deeply. He scents you, excessively, purring now and then.
“So—who’s going to tell her godfather we got her pregnant?” Bucky grins when you look at Steve. “Guess she wants you to volunteer…”
“Look what the cat dragged into the sheriff’s department,” the deputies growl. “Pity the sheriff couldn’t get rid of us – huh? Maybe you change your mind and want us to take care of that sweet little omega?”
“If you want to keep your teeth, you will shut your cakehole right fucking now,” Bucky grits, hands already balled into fists. “You are talking about our true mate, the mother of our pups.”
“Pups?” the deputy gasps, looking at you hide behind Steve. “You got her pregnant? What a pity. The girl looked like she likes to take dick—” Bucky’s fist breaks the deputy’s nose with one precise punch.
While the man stumbles backward, pressing one hand to his bleeding nose, his friend tries to help him but ends up pressed against the wall by Steve, the blondes arm against his throat.
The alpha grits his teeth reveals his true intentions. “Back in the old times' alphas defended their omegas by ripping their concurrent’s mating gland out with their teeth.” He grins, feeling the deputy struggle against his strength. “Good thing the old times are over – right, Buck?”
“Right, Steve. I mean, some people should watch their backs and mating glands if they don’t want to end up in a dark alley,” the brunette grins at the other deputy. “I have a thing for knives and always wondered how deep I can cut a bastard until he bleeds out.”
“T-this isn’t necessary,” the deputy looks up at Steve before he tilts his head in submission. “My friend was just joking. He likes to run his mouth.”
“I will tell you this one last time,” Steve growls. “She’s ours. Our true mate and you will stay the fuck away from her.”
“So—,” Tony clears his throat. “You are pregnant by two alphas, great. I will get a godfather of the year medal this time.”
“Please don’t be mad, Tony,” you sniff. “It’s not your fault nor theirs. I wasn’t on anything and gave in to my instinct but Steve, Bucky, and I got a nice house. We can raise our kids there.”
“I heard you gave my deputies hell,” your godfather smirks at Bucky. “Good job, boys. Next time break a few bones.”
“Tony,” Pepper tuts her alpha, but she gently pats his hand. “Don’t encourage them! Soon they will be fathers! Now let’s talk about the nest and anything else, Y/N. How far are you?”
“Two babies,” Steve watches you lie in the middle of your shared bed. “We need to tell the gang we are going to be fathers soon, Buck. No more dangerous stuff for us. Y/N needs reliable alphas.”
“Aw, you’re such a softie, Steve,” Bucky whines when you look at your alphas. “Fine, I’m all soft for her too. What happened to us? We used to be stone-cold bikers and now we are putty in a girl’s hands.”
“Not just a girl, Buck,” smiling Steve looks at his friend. “Our omega, my friend. I think it’s time to grow up and be good alphas.”
“Agreed,” offering Steve a fist bump Bucky grins. “Now let’s take care of our omega. She needs us.”
THE END...*and yes I made her pregnant, sue me...*
All works Tags
@yolobloggers
@shikshinkwon
@miraclesoflove
@mogaruke
@shatteredabby
@soryuwifeyxx
@letsdisneythings
@i-love-superhero
@psychicforest
@thevelvetseries
@anaelsbrunette
@sabascio
@goodgodimaweirdperson
@that-place-called-middle-earth
@trumpettay
@zxph-yr
@belovedcherry
@matsumama
@emoryhemsworth
@buckybarnesplumwhore
@wonderlandfandomkingdom
@kitkatd7
@coldmuffinbanditshoe
@princesssterek
@xoxabs88xox
@wandering-spiritash
@riathearora
@the-loml-got-nailed
---------------------------------------------------------
Marvel Tags
@stuckys-whore
@notyourtypicalrose
@valsworldofcreativity
@officialmarvelwhore
@randomgirlkensy
@juniorhuntersam
@lumar014
@doctorswife221b
@sister-winchesters99
@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog
@the-soulofdevil
@dayasvalkyrie
@redroomproperty
@natura1phenomenon
@chaoticfiretaconerd
@heartislubbingdubbing
@hhiggs
@sea040561
@midnightsilver16830
@rvgrsbrns
@fandom-princess-forevermore
@amandamdiehl
@grincheveryday
@thelostallycat
@lunaticgurly
@supernaturalwintersoldier
@mrsdeanwinchester19
@pandaxnienke
@just-a-littlebit-of-everything
@tdbooth
@iloveshawnieboi
@vicmc624
@coffeebooksandfandom
@mariaenchanted
@rebekahdawkins
@lady-pswrld
@thinkaboutmara
@notbrooklynsblog
@bxnnywriting
@demonicbusiness
@introvertatitsfinest
@notbrooklynsblog
@just-a-littlebit-of-everything
@doozywoozy
@moshymosh
@soccer-100000
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@jessyballet
---------------------------------------------------------
Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags
@stylesismyhubs
@multisuperfandom
@mrspeacem1nusone
@fallenoutofrose
@denisemarieangelina
@gabifernandessn
@heyiamthatbitch
@rosalynshields
@inlovewithfictionalcharacters
@patzammit
@donutloverxo
@saiyanprincessswanie
@supernaturalwintersoldier
@hinata7346
@selen-o-phile
------------------------------------------------------
Bucky Barnes/Sebastian Stan Tags
@rynabarnesrogers-reading
@marshyrebelcloud
@buchanan-lover
@rosalynshields
@neii3n
@jane-dough
@hinata7346
------------------------------------------------------
Stucky Masterlist
@marshyrebelcloud
@animegirlgeeky
@hinata7346
------------------------------------------------------
Bad Boys Tags
@isitmine, @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru, @justlovelifeblog, @tdbooth, @coldbreadbouquetworld, @peaches-roses-sins, @bubblyyzabel161-blog, @nightriver99, @dee-vn, @youngdreamer3214, @dangerouslovefanfic, @alexakeyloveloki, @irishflutiegirl, @tinkymae, @rachellovesharry, @bubblyyz
#Bad Boys (6) - She’s ours (FIN)#alpha!bucky barnes#alpha!steve rogers#biker!bucky barnes#biker!steve rogers#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#steve rogers#bucky barnes#true mates#pregnant reader
350 notes
·
View notes
Text
Being Soulmates would Include...
Young!Carol Denning X Reader.
Hope you enjoy!
==========================================================
You had found each other when you were at school and she caught a glance at you and her world burst into color. You were putting textbooks away in your locker, minding your own business, a couple of friends walking up and saying hello. She waited till they left and marched up to you dragging you out of the school to somewhere no one can see you. “What’s your name?” You stare at her for a few seconds confused “Y/n...You?” “Carol” you both stand there for a few minutes then you realize that you can see the color of her clothes and the sky. “HOLY SHIT” you jump away from her spin around looking at the colors “COLORS” while looking around Carol lips turn up and she pulls you back towards her “W-we’re soulmates?” She nods nervously “Do... do you not want me?” She backs away, You realized that she was also probably freaked out “I do, trust me I do!’ you pull her towards you. You hold her hands “You wanna come over to my house after school so we can talk more about this?” she looks around “sure”. For the rest of the day, you can see her lurking around you waiting.
After the first encounter she gets more attached even though she knows she shouldn’t she just cant help it. Every morning she comes and picks you up and you both go to school and every day she drives you back home and she spends time with you in your room doing homework and maybe learning more about each other. She hates leaving but you always tell her that she’ll see you tomorrow. The first time you left for a little family vacation she got all pissy. “why can’t you stay...” You chuckle “ it’s only for a week Carol you can last a week without me” “No I can’t” You shake your head and continue packing. When it gets time to actually leave to the great ol Florida she gets all huffy. “Carol calm down” “No... you can’t just leave...” You laugh and pull her into a hug “Carol...” You pull away and hold her face and she just pouts. “how about I give you a kiss and a scrunchie so you can remember me for now?” she thinks about it for a minute glaring at you “I want the one your wearing right now” You pull it out of your hair and give it to her “AND my kiss lady!” she hisses, you bust out laughing and give her a quick kiss. “Now lets go before you camp in my room.” she gets in her car and goes home for the week.
She comes to you when something happens at home. She tries not to yell at you and let the anger get the best of her. When she is angry she’ll either call your house phone or storm over and cry in your arms. You hear the phone ringing, you hurry over and pick it up “hello?” “Y/n” you can immediately tell she’s trying to keep it together. “Hey why don’t you come over?” She didn’t even respond she just hangs up. You silently put the phone back worried that now she was mad at you or something. You look at mom “I don’t know what just happened...” your mom looks up from her book “y/n whats going on between you two? It doesnt seem like your just friends?” You freeze “Mom really?” She shrugs “hey I won’t judge hard.” You deadpan “she’s my soulmate” you mom nods like she didn’t hear you “I said she’s my soulmate lady” “I know lady” she sassed back “She’s mad” She looked up from her book “Why” you shrug “family problems? Me? I dont know” “Well maybe she just needs alone time and calling you just didnt make her feel better.” You scoff “yeah sure.” You go back to your room and an hour later a knock on your door broke you from drawing whatever came to your mind. “Yes?” You get up and open the door to see Carol standing there blotchy and red. “Care...” she pulls you into a hug and burries herself in your neck “please hold me” she whispered. You pull her into your room and bring her to your bed and push her on it. “Lets cuddle yeah?” She nods and get comfy under the blanket and reaches for you. You smile and kiss her nose “I love you carol” she takes a deep breath “really?” You stare for a second “of course, your amazing and I can’t think of a time i was better without you, you complete me poopy head” she smiles and kisses your cheeks. “I’m not a poopy head” you chuckle and pull her closer “sure” you drag out the ending. “Shut up asshole” “Hey do you erm.. wanna talk about earlier or no?” She sighs into your neck “Not right now” “ok” you give her a kiss on the forhead and snuggle to sleep.
When she’s mad at you oof thats a whole different person all right. “Carol come on” “Fuck.You.” You sigh “I didn’t know” “You did. Don’t act like you didn’t” “He was all over you!” “No he wasn’t you sat you ass between us” “BECAUSE HE WAS ALL OVER YOU” she was finally at her breaking point. “I will kill that mother fucker” she tries to walk past you but you don’t let her. “Care come on” she tries to push you away but you dont let her. “Stop...” she continues to thrash around “STOP” she finally stops and looks down embarrassed. “Carol-“ you look at your feet “maybe you need to go home for now and cool down” she shakes her head “no no no no no please y/n” “ Carol I’m not ending this. Just go home and sleep and relax” she cups your face “I can only do that here please please please” you look her in the eye “Carol come on go.” You softly whisper and pull her hands from your face “You can come back soon just take some time for yourself I’ll wait” she stares at for a while longer and get her stuff and walks past you. Before she leaves you grab her arm and pull her in for a quick kiss “I love you alright” she nods “I love you too...” she goes in for another, you of course let her. “I’ll see you tomorrow” you nod “tomorrow”.
You guys sometimes question soulmate thing. But not in a negative way just in a questioning way. Why does it happen? Can there be soulmate in different universe who will never meet eachother you know the goodies. You guys pretend that you both know what your talking about. Its always when your about to sleep or when cuddling or doin homework.
She also likes to get candy and share it with you. “Hey look i got new jawbreakers!” She gives you one and she pops one into her mouth “mm this ones good” you nod “really?” You sit up from laying on the floor and pop the one she gave you in your mouth “ooo it is good!” She laughs and pulls out her notebook to draw.
I also see her as someone who stares at their s/o a lot. You could be doing chores and she’d just stare lovingly. “Carol... what is so loving of me cleaning a toilet?” She shrugs “I don’t know but you look really cute.” You roll your eyes “why don’t you help me asshole!” “My arms are suddenly broken...” you glare and she looks around avoiding your eyes. “Ass-cunt” she laughs “ooo is that a new insult?” You nod and laugh “hell yeah!”
She doesnt really share much on her homelife beside the fact that she hates them. She doesnt want you worrying your pretty little head. “Carol this doesnt make sense I share my problems all the time” “Easier for you I guess good job want a gold medal?” You groan she smirks and drags you down and starts tickling you. “HEY NO THIS IS ABOUT YOU NOT ME” you scream. “SHUT UP Y/N” your mom yells. “Yeah carol shut up” she smirks “no pretty sure that was your name.” You pout and ignore which we all know she does not like when people ignore her. Ecspecially her soulmate so of course she bothers you till you cant ignore her. Pokes, tickles you name it she has done it. All for you to notice her. You try to leave to get more snacks and she just wont let you. “Give me attention” you try not to smile. She tries to keep you in by pulling you from behind “stay!” You sigh, turn around and give her a big kiss and pull her arms from you and run away. “Thanks HA!” She gasps and chases after you “you freakin cheater come back!” ——————————————————————
All in all things going good on the soulmate side of not being in prison. May do one where you guys are actually in prison and find out your soulmates for both present and young maybe 👀.
#carol denning#carol denning x reader#oitnb#young!carol denning#oitnb imagine#orange is the new black
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part of the Team (1/?)
Miniseries for @mushyjellybeans writing challenge. Hope you enjoy it!
Prompt: “We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you had just listened to me!”
Pairings: fem!reader x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: Reader is part of a private investigation that is kept secret from the Avengers. Instead, they believe she took a bribe. Isolated for two years as the investigation comes to an end, reader is awarded a Medal of Honor and the team realises their mistake, but it might just be too late.
Warnings: Angst, violence, isolation and harsh treatment. Re-uploading because I don’t know what tumblr did to the original one.
Series Masterlist
You stood in the small room you had been moved to in your moment of exile. The team hadn’t shown up to the award ceremony, much expected. They had been bitter towards you for a whole two years now, you didn’t expect them to suddenly change their minds.
The empty shelves and the and the stripped bare bed showed no signs of you living inside anymore.
You clutched the medal you had been granted in your hand, the cold of the metal screaming at you that you had done the right thing and that they were wrong, but now you felt lonely as ever.
What had turned into you witnessing an event with an undercover agent, had looked to the team like you were accepting a bribe and turning a blind eye. Since then you were stuck in an investigation that had to stay secret from the team, so you had to take their nastiness in the chin. The worst was when Nat broke up with you. The disgust on her face when she saw you turn away from that agent in the middle of a fight had stained your memory.
Now that was the only look she gave you when she acknowledged you.
But your secrecy was to keep the team safe. It was for the best.
~
Fury had forced you to keep your mouth shut. Reading the file on the agent had given you some insight into what exactly was being investigated and now you were hyper-aware.
Walking into the common kitchen, eyes followed you.
“He didn’t kick you off?” Tony asked incredulously.
You looked to him and took in the looks you were being given.
“No, only a warning.” You said lowly as you opened the fridge.
Clint scoffed at your answer. “If I had my way, you’d be off and shipped right now.”
“But you don’t.” Steve butted in. He disapproved and was cold, but he didn’t act out like the rest. “So we just had to soldier on and make the best of the situation.”
You looked down at his words. Great, now you were a situation.
You snatched water from the fridge and quickly made your way out of the room, they watched you exit with shame.
You wanted to tell Natasha. You had to.
Making your way up to her room, you racked your brain of ways to deal with this whole situation. As soon as you got to her door, it swung open.
Her eyes looked at you with disgust and disbelief.
“What do you want?” Venom laced her voice.
“I need to talk to you.” You tried to sound like you weren’t begging.
“There’s nothing for us to talk about.”
“Yes, there is Natasha. Please just listen to me-“ You begged but she cut you off.
“No! I don’t want to listen to you.” She raised her voice to yell at you. “I can’t believe you would do something like that.”
“It’s not what you think Nat!”
“I watched you shake his hand and let him go, June! You can’t tell me that you didn’t let the enemy go and screwed up our whole mission.” You could, in fact, tell her that. But it was going to be hard.
“You disgust me.” Her words cut you deeply. The look in her eyes salted your wounds.
“Nat...” You tried.
“No. This,” She gestured between you and herself. “Whatever we had is over.”
~
Their resentment wasn’t the worst of it. They destroyed you in training, and eventually, you stopped training with them together. They had turned into a team of bullies, you thought it was childish, but you couldn’t blame them because of the unknown.
~
You had been trying to be nice to every member in the building. Going out of your way to getting stuff, smiling if they looked in your direction, helping them if they struggled or just trying to start a conversation. But nothing was working.
Walking down the corridor of the tower you had your nose buried into the StarkPad in your hands. Hearing another set of footsteps, you looked up to see a sweaty Bucky coming but from the gym. Making eye contact you pulled your lips into the sweetest smile you could muster, he was never one to be bluntly rude to someone since joining the team. But as you kept your smile and got closer to him, he passed you with a glare and a hard thump of the shoulder, causing you to grunt, stagger and drop the StarkPad. Steadying yourself, you looked down at the broken device. Great, another reason for Stark to hate you. You looked back at Bucky as he walked away from you, not a second glance in your direction. That was when you really started to feel unwanted and disconnected.
-
The training was the worst. They either excluded you altogether or targeted you. Each blow they gave, you took with pride. One day they would know the truth and everything would be okay.
“June, you’re up.” Steve’s voice picked your attention away from the exercise you were doing. Seeing Natasha on the sparring mat, sweaty and flustered gave you a wave of anxiety.
“June, let’s go!” Steve hurried you.
You left your stuff at that end of the room and you slowly made your way to where Nat was standing and waiting.
You were good at hand-to-hand combat, but you definitely weren’t the best. You did better with weapons and guns. There was no way you could beat anyone on the hand during a sparring session. Especially Nat.
You eyed her carefully as she watched your approach.
“What? Think you’re too good to train with the rest of us now?”
You didn’t answer her back. You stepped onto the mat and got into position. Hopefully, this would be quick.
“Go easy and be fair,” Steve warned both of you before stepping off the mat.
Nat gave no time for Steve to say go before she lunged at you. She was a blur before your eyes but you managed to dodge her. Stumbling back a bit, she took that chance to swipe your legs out from under you. You hit the mat with a grunt and a clap sounded through the gym.
Nat stepped back to her place at the mat and you groaned as you lifted yourself up. Steve watched you as you repositioned yourself.
You were starting to regret training with them, but you had to show them that you weren’t going to let them down anymore.
Nat huffed as she watched you get into a defensive stance and rolled her eyes. You had gotten used to that reaction from her, but it still hurt.
“Alright, go again.” Steve said.
He clapped again and this time, she didn’t lunge. She kept her glare trained on you as she shuffled towards you on her toes.
She took a jab at your face and you deflected but as you did, she went for your ribs, which you weren’t fast enough to dodge. While it caused you to struggle as you crunched forward and groaned, Nat kicked back one of your legs and wrapped her arm around yours. She pushed you to the mat face down her arm pulling yours back between your shoulder blades, you straining against her grip.
“Nat,” You struggled in the position she had you in. One sudden movement and your elbow was done for.
“Tap out.” She spat.
Fuck this, this was not worth it. You twisted your arm and flipped yourself up, causing her to roll backward. You felt a burn run up your arm as your muscles strained at the odd movement but you fought against it.
Expecting her to lunge at you, you lifted your arms in defense to suddenly feel a sharp piercing pain in your upper arm. Yelping out, you jumped back and away from her. Your yelp was followed by a silence throughout the gym as you looked down at your arm to see a tiny knife had been lodged into you.
Blood slowly started to seep through the wound and a tiny drop of blood trailed down your arm.
Shakily, your hand grasped the handle of the knife and you gently pull it out of your arm. You look back in at Nat with shaky breaths. She looked uncertain like she was deciding if she regretted throwing her knife at you, or if you were going to throw it back at her.
You understood now. They hated you. The hint was finally taken. She actually threw her knife at you, made you bleed.
You looked around the gym to see the same look on the rest of the teams’ faces.
“That’s enough.” Fury’s voice came from the entrance of the gym. “June.” He called to you.
Staring into Nat’s eyes, you dropped the knife to the floor where you stood. You turned, walking to where you had left your stuff, gathered it in your arms and headed out of the gym, Fury stepping aside to let you out before following you.
That was the last time you trained with them or spoke to them.
-
“You’re leaving?” Nat’s voice pulled you from your memories. You turned to the door, seeing her standing just inside the doorway.
“Yes.” Your reply was short.
Nat took a deep breath. She had only just received a notification of the award ceremony and missed it by an hour.
“You don’t have to go.” Her voice was small like she didn’t want to crack the calm exterior you were putting on.
“I handed in my resignation letter two weeks ago.” You say to her, turning back to the medal that sat in your hand. “I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”
Nat sighed. “June, please.” She stepped forward to you. A couple of years ago, the roles were reversed. “We didn’t know.”
“But you would have.” You turned to completely face her. “I tried to tell you the minute Fury finished telling me. But you wouldn’t listen, you just slammed the door in my face.”
Nat looked at you with sad eyes. Her chest caved in with the heavy guilt as she watched you. “For years the whole team has treated me like shit. You had no lesser part in that. I tried my hardest. In fact, we wouldn’t be having this conversation if you had just listened.”
“I’m sorry.” Nat’s voice was almost a whisper.
“Yeah,” You tossed the metal onto the bed. “I’m sorry too.”
You reached for your bag and pushed passed her. She watched as you walked away from her, all the harsh memories of the past two years flooding her brain and the pain in her chest expanded with every step you took.
~
You packed up your stuff into your car and made a rest stop at the bar. Sitting solemnly at the bar all by yourself with a bourbon in your hand.
This is where you were meant to celebrate with people after the ceremony. But you chose to come later when you expected no one to be there and you were right. No one you knew had shown their face and you were glad in a way. Though, you had never felt more lonely.
“Congratulations.” Fury’s voice came from beside you as he took a seat.
Without looking at him, you have a quick upturn of your lips before it was gone again. “Thanks.” You said, looking down at your drink.
“I know that this doesn’t feel like a whole lot, but you save a lot of people and helped in a major investigation that you weren’t even meant to be a part of.” He nudged your shoulder with his. “You did good. You deserve that medal.”
You didn’t know how to respond to him. You knew that this how the situation would turn the team against you. You just didn’t count on them being as mean as they were. You couldn’t blame them, but you would never feel truly a part of the team again. And the medal didn’t make it feel worth it.
“I’m not forcing you to stay, I could never. All I am saying is that they will understand now, and you will always be welcome back.” He finished his talk and got up from his seat, fishing through his pocket for some cash and placing it in front of you. “Free drinks for the hero.” Fury patter your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts.
Tears sprang to your eyes as the emotions swirled in your chest. Hero. If you were a hero now, then why didn’t you feel like one? After two whole years, you now felt the bitterness. Bitterness towards the team, towards the investigation, towards that stupid undercover agent who was dumb enough to get himself caught and forced to reveal himself, and towards the medal that burned in your hand the first time you touched it and you were glad you’d left it behind.
“Fuck this.” You mumbled. You downed the rest of your drink and set the glass down. Getting up from your seat at the bar you made your way and fished in your pocket for your keys. You were done with this place and wanted to move on.
As if more things could hold you back, when you pushed open the bar door, you came face-to-face with the rest of the team. They were making their way into the bar to congratulate you. Steve and Bucky held bouquets of flowers and Tony and Wanda held what seemed to be gift bags.
You took their image in, a lump in your throat forming again and tears made their way to your eyes.
“We heard that you were leaving?” Tony asked you.
“You heard right.” You cleared your throat. “Please don’t try to convince me otherwise, this is already hard enough.”
“We’re sorry.” Steve said, his eyes sad.
“I know.” You looked down to the ground. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Of course it matters, June.” Clint said sternly. “We didn’t know anything but-“
“So let it be then! It’s not your guys’ fault that you didn’t know.” You cut him off and raised your voice. “This was all just a big misunderstanding and nothing can change that.”
The team fell silent. You didn’t want their apologies, you hated the fact that they had to give them to you. You knew it was cowardly but you just wanted to run away.
A crack of thunder rose in the sky and lightning beamed down, signally Thor’s arrival.
Great, you inwardly rolled your eyes.
“June!” The God bellowed cheerfully. “I’ve heard of your success and have come to celebrate in a feast and drinks!” He patted you on the back.
He had been gone for the last two years, of course he wouldn’t know anything about what went down.
Thor’s words were met with silence and tension, which confused him. “I’ve missed something...” He said in a soft voice.
You finally turned to face him and sighed. “Yeah, a bit.”
You glanced back at the team and then back to Thor and gave him the best smile you could. “Thank you, so much. But I’m leaving, I’m being transferred to another agency.”
Thor’s frown deepened as you patted his shoulder and pushed passed him.
You looked over your shoulder to them. “See you around.”
They watched as you climbed into your car and drove out of the bar parking lot. Thor turned to the team and saw the stuff they were holding.
“What has happened?”
#fem!reader x natasha#reader x natasha#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romaoff angst#natasha romanoff smut#tony stark#avengers angst#steve rogers angst#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader#avengers x reader#mushyjellybeans 250 writing challenge#fem!reader#ems250challenge
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)
(part seven)
Part one. Masterlist!
Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none
*Yuri's POV*
(Next week)
A week had passed by in a rather slow pace. Yuri's recovery seemed to never end when it had just been a few days. But those days were spent sleeping and eating, using his phone and sleeping some more. Mostly he had no one to talk to since everyone were busy with their own lives. Especially (Y/n) who had to keep her inner performer alive at all times. Her coach came with the idea of hosting a smaller gig where (Y/n) would perform about two or three numbers for the people of Japan. It was planned out as a small nightclub gig at first but the numbers of interested in Japan rose over the charts and well... (Y/n) said that she didn't want to let anyone down. Though her coach was apparently hesitant into taking more than a hundred people. 'Three numbers are too little for a concert.' They said but the people of Japan insisted on paying for the price a concert ticket anyway.
(Y/n) had told him this two days after his fever started. He remembered it made him scoff at how she decided the ticket would only cost a quarter of what a normal concert ticket would then. He had told her it was a ridiculous way of thinking.
He barely saw her after the first day of his fever. The way Yuri had taken a hold of her hand and fallen asleep... She waited until he woke up. Well, not exactly waited. She fell asleep at the edge of his bed.
And since that, the two of you barely talked during the days. They barely even met before she went to bed because she spent every waking hour to practice her numbers with her backup dancers. She still made you breakfast when she head the time though.
Yuri's glad it would soon be over and he could go back to normal. Everyone had been attending to him like he was some child and he felt like a huge burden. He had told Victor that he wished (Y/n) especially wouldn't just dismiss his attempts at doing things on his own just because he couldn't get out of bed with single effort. 'Right, she told me about that! You fell on your face right after while trying, didn't you?' He had replied.
So... yeah... Yuri wanted things to return to normal real fast. Yakov had promised him that he would get to start his session with (Y/n) as soon as the music for the program was set. And that was what Victor had been helping him with a couple times. It was hard to find something he wanted to use. Everything felt overused and boring. Just another performance. Yuri didn't want it to pass as that. He wanted to stand out and earn his gold medal for real just as last year. Now was also really the year of improvement so the music had to be well thought through. He was certainly going to take advantage of having a coach for emotional performances with him this season as well. Meaning, his free skate program was already set to be something hurtful and strong. Not love, he already did that. Something far more serious. He wanted the audience to cry after his performance. Everyone should be bawling. Yakov, piglet, Victor and even (Y/n).
Most important of all, no one would be expecting him to do a program with such deep meaning. Because he was one to avoid it in the past.
His short program should be something upbeat and flashy. He wanted the choreography so intense that he'd be coughing up blood at the end of the performance, if that was possible. So the music had to make the pulse of the audience rise when hearing it. Meaning, the music would be in the rock genre. And he already had just the song for it.
This performance would show off his skills and flexibility as well as the importance of his stamina since the entire program would be non-stop step sequences and jumps throughout almost the entire music. Since he intended to be in better shape than ever before before the competition started, he felt no point in holding back on anything. If he played it safe, then what was the point?
"Ah! Good morning Yuri! I come bearing gifts!" Victor busted the door open with his foot and stumbled inside the room, balancing a tray in his hand. The tray was set down in front of him and Victor sat down at the end of Yuri's bed.
"Where's (Y/n)?" Yuri was truly surprised to see Victor being the one to bring you the breakfast today. It had been her until now. And he hadn't even seen as much as her face today since she left so early.
"Ouch. I'm replaced already? I can't go on knowing I'm not your favorite anymore, you know." Victor put a dramatic hand to his forehead and fell backwards onto Yuri's legs. The tray with the breakfast threatened to tumble and Yuri made an effort to stabilize it. It was bacon and eggs with apple slices. A part of him felt a little sad that the slices weren't in the shape of stars...
"You were never my favorite, old man. And you didn't answer my question." Yuri picked up the fork and pointed it towards the man slopped unto the bed end. He ignored the sad pout he received and took a bite of the apple cut into pieces. Each slice were to large and it didn't even taste the same even though they were of the same apples like yesterday. The eggs were decent and the bacon slightly undercooked. Victor's efforts to cook for the household during the day were appreciated of course. But there was no wonder why (Y/n) stood for the head of the dinner at days when her schedule wasn't as crazy.
"She's practicing like mad. Called her dancers to say that she would be starting a few hours ahead of time because she got an energy boost. She wants the show to be at her best efforts possible."
"I haven't even seen her today. How can she practice like a maniac when she's probably already learned her numbers flawlessly?"
Victor was watching Yuri with a funny look. Probably wondering where all those questions came from.
"I think the show is a way for her to relax."
Say what? Going out of bed before sunrise and coming back from practice just mere hours before midnight could never be considered relaxation. Yuri would never be able to pull that off. That was an insane view of the word relaxing, definitely.
"The steam and demands from her competition in We are voice are currently lifted off her shoulders like heavy weights, you know. This is probably just fun to her. She doesn't have to compete with anyone. I think it gives her a sense of relief."
Yuri stopped eating and thought a little extra on what Victor said.
Yes. She was always stressed in every video where a fan or a nosy reporter came out of nowhere and started recording. Yuri had seen those videos. Especially the one where the random person happened to record the exact moment her mind broke down and she had a breakdown in front of a large crowd. Now there was no denying that Yuri sees (Y/n) as the most weirdest and ridiculous being alive. The way she is so determined to get her way and how much she cares for strangers she's never met. Yuri kind of still consider the two of them to be strangers, even after two weeks being with each other on a daily basis. Her eyes are also too intense for anyone to be up close with to her face and as if that wasn't enough, she's also a morning person and that's already a big warning sign to stay away from a person.
But even though he had had this mental conversation with him many times. Even though he agreed that he disliked her; he couldn't help but being captivated by her performances.
It felt so weird seeing her cry like that just minutes before her performance and then watching her going on stage having the time of her life. There was no doubt she loved her fans and performing on stage but that was one of those moments where Yuri really got to see the mind behind the happy smile. It was the first time he had seen her crying or feeling a negative emotion. It's still the first but he got a taste of her irritated self not so long ago.
It made Yuri think about her performance that day. It was a remarkable song filled with sheerness and excitement and her eyes were still wet with tears as she got up on stage.
"Remember (Y/n) performing 'Animal' during the acappella collaboration sequence?"
"Yes! One of my favorites. She was so happy on stage that day." While it had been true that she found happiness, it's not to ignore how broken she felt right before. 'Animal' by Neon Trees (A/N: listen to the Glee version of the song for the best acapella dynamic!) Was one of (Y/n)'s best performances, according to Yuri. He had watched it on repeat just this morning. There's really nothing special to the song in itself. It was the way she delivered every word and tune with such bravery after her internal battle like that. Her emotional response has always been on point but this particular song was something completely real and touching with her tears glistening in the corner of her eyes the entire performance. The tears of sadness had been replaced with joy and she had genuinely just been having a great time with the acapella group at her side, cheering and jumping around on stage with stars in her eyes.
'Oh, oh
I want some more
Oh, oh
What are you waiting for?
Say goodbye to my heart tonight'
The chorus were always his favorite part. Maybe it was the interpretation of the love-hate relationship the words of the lyrics intended. (Y/n) was belting out 'what are you waiting for' with such passion even though it was hardly a difficult song to perform.
'Here we are again
I feel the chemicals kickin' in
It's gettin' heavier and
I wanna run and hide
I wanna run and hide'
The short verse got him every time. The way her eyes watered at the end and then were immediately blown away by the chorus once again. The way she let go of her sadness and let her happy thoughts consume her. No, she let the song consume her and gave the song a completely different touch never done before.
Yuri had lost count of the time he'd watched it and he knew the choreography and song in and out by now. It was mainly intended for the purpose of studying her expression and getting some kind of inspiration for his music choice. He wanted his theme of his music choice for the free skate program to be 'to let go'. If there's any theme harder than love, then it's letting go of the thing you love. And not just what you love. Letting go to be able to love as well. Whether it's love for yourself or another person. There are countless interpretations and that's what (Y/n) had performed that day, with no intention whatever of doing it in such a way.
"I have... I have chosen the music for my program. At the inspiration of t-that performance."
Now don't get Yuri wrong. He'd never admit it to anyone that (Y/n) had been an inspiration to his free skate. He would probably had figured out the idea anyway, it would just had taken a little longer. And her performance was his own way to interpret it so he'd been the one to come up with the decision anyway. So in a way, she didn't have anything to do with it. And his choice of song would be far more intense and heartbreaking than anything Neon Trees could produce. And so Yuri told Victor about his music choices even though he had no clue why he put that kind of trust into the man.
"Those are some really clever choices when combined with your own vision. I'm almost a little jealous. Maybe I should just hire (Y/n) as my coach myself. It seems like it did wonders for you already!" The man laughed and patted Yuri on the shoulder.
"Nonsense. She hasn't began coaching me yet. She had no part in this." Yuri pushed away the empty tray to make room for sitting up and crossing his legs.
"Oh, but it seems like you learned a lot by ogling her all day long though." The smirk Yuri received made his teeth grit and his ears flush.
"I-i wasn't ogling her!"
"Then what were you doing exactly? I heard 'Animal' playing for a good 30 minutes from the wall connected to the room beside yours." Victor laughed at the startled freeze of The Russian Punk.
Okay fine. Maybe he went overboard with the video. But a new problem had seemed to appear now as he admitted defeat.
Yuri now had a witness that would have to be taken care of somehow. He leaned forwards and gripped the collar of Victor's shirt in a tight fist. The glare of daggers shot forwards onto the smiling man.
"Tell anyone about it and you're gonna have to reconstruct that pretty nose of yours. That's a promise,not a threat."
"Trust me! You won't hear a peep!"
#inspiration#yuri on stage#yurio plisetsky#yuri on ice fanfiction#yuri on ice fandom#yurianime#yuri katsuki#yuri on ice#yuri plisetsky x reader#yuri plisetsky#best anime#anime icons#animelove#anime fanfic#viktor nikirofov#yuuri on ice#yuuri katsuki
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
She [1]
Warnings: non-consent sex (series)
This is dark! Steve and explicit. 18+ only.
Series Synopsis: Steve Rogers’ life is turned upside down by a reporter.
Chapter Summary: You meet Steve Rogers for an interview but he’s not what you expected.
Note: I’ve been trying to chill the last five days but I obviously got some writing in. It has resulted in this impromptu series and I hope you all like it. It’s looking like it will be about 10 chapters when all is said is done but that being said, I am still working on it.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
Reader
Your left ankle bent as you leaned heavily on your heel. You stood before the thick walnut door, a round frosted window on its face. The townhouse stuck out on the old Brooklyn row and all knew its resident. It surprised many that he remained in the borough and he was cherished all the more for it. He was the golden boy of New York.
Well, that’s what people like to believe. You weren’t there to paint another flowery picture of the saviour. You were there to speak with the real man behind the plan. There was a story behind Steve Rogers that had yet to be told and when you were selected to tell it, you knew you had to do it right. The task was both daunting and humbling. It could be your big break.
You knocked and adjusted the bag that hung from your shoulder. You didn’t miss the group of kids at the end of the block gathered around for a glimpse of their hero. The door opened and you were greeted by the man himself. He smiled at you as his hand rested on the curled door handle.
“Hi,” He greeted you. “Thanks for coming. It saves me a lot of trouble.”
“Not at all,” You shook his hand.
You’d spoken to him briefly over the phone and negotiated the time and place for your interview. You agreed that him coming to the office would cause too much of a flurry. You were sure he was over that.
“Come in,” He stepped back and waved you through.
He closed the door as you looked around the entryway. A thick banister with the same dark wood as the walls led up to the second level and a finely carved archway peeked through to the next room. It was cozy and a lot quainter than you expected. The exposed brick above the panelling lent it a warmth.
“Shoes?” You stopped by the mat.
“Your call,” He said. “Can I offer you something to drink?”
“Thank you, Mr. Rogers, but I’m fine,” You assured him as you stepped out of your heels. You’d hate to scuff the hardwood. “I’m sure you're just as impatient as me to begin.”
“Steve. And yeah, I suppose. I don’t really do much more than pressers and usually, I don’t do much talking.” He confessed. “Just through here,” He pointed to the front room.
You nodded and stepped through. He directed you to the pair of armchairs before the artificial fireplace and you set your bag down as you sat. He lowered himself across from you as you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone and notebook. You swiped up and flicked your finger across the screen.
“Do you mind if I record you? It helps with editing and of course, accuracy,” You said.
He scratched his jaw and shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“Great,” You hit the red dot and set the phone down on the small table with the mic facing him.
🖋️
You were a bit surprised by how it had all unfolded, but, you supposed, you were right when you said no one was ever exactly what they seemed. Steve was nice enough as he showed you the door but you could see the agitated impatience behind his eyes. You should’ve eased him into it more. Timing was everything.
Even so, you had promised your editor a story and if you didn’t deliver after being chosen for such a coveted one, well, you would never see its likes again.
So you sat at your desk in your small but comfortable city apartment. It was nothing compared to the star-spangled hero’s walk-up but it was home. If you could work the interview the right way, it might mean an upgrade, or at least a television that didn’t flicker.
You hit play on your phone for the third time that night. Steve Rogers’ voice was etched into your brain. And that tension in his forehead, the tic in his jaw. A thinly veiled wrath unexpected of the valiant soldier-turned-saviour. You shivered and paused the recording. It was almost startling how quickly he’d turned on you, but you weren’t entirely innocent.
You stretched your fingers over the keyboard and sighed as you stared at your blinking cursor. You couldn’t just sit on this forever. You had a deadline and an extension was an impossibility, if not a death warrant for your career.
So you hit play and began to type, pausing to play back snippets as you went.
🖋️
‘It’s early afternoon in the heart of Brooklyn. Amidst the old brick buildings that line the cracked sidewalks is a townhouse unlike any other. The home of a man born there over a century ago. A living ghost that haunts the block. Most would say he is a friendly spirit.
Steve Rogers answers the door as a boy lets his baseball roll under a car and his friends lower their mitts to watch. A teen on a bike, a ring in his nose, even slows to admire the hometown hero as he smiles; a beacon of the borough. A glimmer of hope for all to think that the block is not the whole world.
He greets me like an old friend. “Hi.” The same smile seen in newsprint. He thanks me for coming and ushers me inside. This is the first time I’ve met him in person. I can’t lie; I’m intimidated. I’m just another person in debt to this great veteran.
His house isn’t what you would expect from a man as prestigious as him. No medals hanging on the wall, no vainglorious cut-outs of his image, or pictures of him shaking hands with men in suits. Only framed baseball cards along freshly laid wood-panels. It’s like any other house in Brooklyn, just newer. An ancient skeleton revived.
We sit in the front room, he offers me a drink. I’m not very thirsty. I’m more anxious to start talking. I can see he is too though his facade is hard to crack. He tells me to call him Steve as my recitations of ‘Mr. Rogers’ become almost pathetic. We begin.
Interviewer: “Great.” I hit ‘record’. “I’ll start by saying you have a nice place.”
Steve: “Thanks.” He seems to relax as he leans back in the chair which is nearly too narrow for his broad shoulders. “It took a while but I think it’s coming together.”
Interviewer: “Can’t take the boy out of Brooklyn, I guess.”
Steve: “Wouldn’t leave it for the world.” He smiles again, though he never truly looks less than amiable.
I: “Only to save it,”
S: “I do what I can.
I: “More than most; New York, Sekovia, the world. You’ve done it all. Do you ever just take a break?”
S: “I try. And sometimes I get a chance to just… be here.”
He looks around, proud of himself, of his home.
I: “Any hobbies?”
S: “You know, I used to love to draw. Nothing special, you know. But I found it calming. I actually bought a bunch of pencils and a pad but I never touched them. I’m sure they're just sitting up in my closet, neglected.”
I listen intently, imagining this man bent over a notebook. It’s an absurd picture as my mind returns to the man in his cowl with shield in hand. The red, white, and blue bullseye is more suiting in my head than a pen.
I: “Anything else? Anything you actually do?”
S: “I like to run. Helps me get to know my neighbours, reconnect with my roots. I read… a little. I’m still not really into the whole internet thing but I try. I still get the newspaper just to read the strips and fill in the weekly crosswords.”
He confirms my suspicion. A man lost in time, but it seems he has found his place.
I: “A man for all times. And you work? I’m sure you get tired of talking about it but well, there’s been a lot of speculation about a possible retirement.”
He ‘s silent as he looks away and fidgets in his chair. He becomes the rehearsed hero at his podium.
S: “I’d hate to fan that fire but I think it’s only natural to consider it.”
I: “Thinking of settling down?”
S: “It’s always a thought but I’m not stupid. It’s not that simple. I’m not the type of man that gets to settle down.”
This remark might break the heart of every woman in Brooklyn and beyond but it seems to hurt him more. A grim truth for a man who many would say has the world in his hands.
I: “And if you did hang up the shield, is there anything you want to do? Anywhere you want to go?”
S: “I’d like to try fishing. I’ve heard it’s relaxing. I love the city but it’s nice to get away now and then.”
I: “Is there anything keeping you from retiring? Besides the obvious; we all know you’re a good man and a great hero. You’ve shown commitment to the city, the world, humanity.”
He looks to the artificial fireplace and shrugs. He’s thinking; perhaps censoring his response.
I: “Co-workers? The world is well aware of what you did for your old friend. And it has proven to be a point of contention, even after the pardon.”
He clears his throat and he’s no longer smiling.
S: “Bucky is an old friend and a commendable soldier. He does his job well. I wouldn’t take anything back. He has more than earned his place.”
I: “So, if you retired, you believe that he would retain his place among the team?”
He’s frowning now. He adjusts his posture so that he seems even bigger than before. A formidable opponent, if not an overwhelming one.
S: “He is not there because of me. He’s there because of himself. Because he is an asset to the world.”
His blue eyes are darker now. No longer the crystalline waves shining in the sun but those foreboding tides which crash together beneath the moonless sky. My ship has gone awry, carried by an errant wind.
I: “Well, I can’t help but point out that many wouldn’t agree. You put yourself and several of your associates on the line to save him. To bring him into your fold. To place a man who was once a national enemy beside you. I hate to say it but, frankly, even if he were pardoned on his own merit, I fail to imagine him being allowed the same access to confidential intelligence and tasked with the protection of civilian life.”
His hands are fists. I could put up a front and say I’m not nervous, but I am. I have done what I once thought impossible. I have angered Steve Rogers.
S: “He wasn’r Bucky, but he is now and he has been cleared. I’m sorry, but I thought you were here to talk about me.”
I: “Yes, I am, but the world is well aware of your friendship with Mr. Barnes and all its implications. It is hard to separate him from your life.”
S: “I agreed to talk about me.”
His tone is set in stone. I attempt to stay calm myself.
I: “We are talking about you, but we can move on. Now, even with its dissolution, there are still questions being asked about the Sokovia Accords and your opposition to it. While many can acknowledge the need for your team and their work, they can’t help but wonder at the lack of restraints placed upon it. There are regulations even for the FBI and CIA and other protective services. So why should you be exempt?”
He sniffs and stands up slowly. He retreats behind his chair and nears a table along the wall. He distracts himself with a signed baseball. I don’t have a chance to ask who scribbled along the stitches as he tosses it and finds his voice.
S: “I never disagreed with the sentiment of the Accords. As heroes, of course, we should have obligations. Our first and foremost being the protection of innocent lives. The hardest to uphold but we do it.”
He is ever the statesman but he isn’t finished and his voice gets low. Dangerous, even.
S: “At the same time, we put our own lives on the line and you come here and nag me about formalities? What is it you want? Paperwork? Reports on how I threw my shield to stop a bullet from striking an innocent bystander? How a piece of shrapnel nearly severed my tendon as I threw myself in front of a speeding vehicle?”
I: “With all due respect, I am only asking about transparency. People deserve to know more. They deserve the truth.”
S: “Is that what you’re looking for? The truth? You want to know what we don’t tell you and your readers?”
He puts the baseball down and his hand is on his hip, disapproving. I suspect his lecture will continue. He nears the chair and grips the back of it as he narrows his eyes at me. I fear he might throw it in my direction though for now, I hope it should act as my own shield against him.
S: “About how I have to lie about how many men I lose to keep this world safe. Because I can’t scare the people. Because I have to keep on this mask of the brave hero.”
His eyes go to the ceiling. He takes a breath to calm himself. I can tell he wants to continue. That he is holding back something which has brewed within him for a very long time. It is a moment before he speaks again.
S: “We’re done here. That’s it. Turn your phone off and go.”
The interview is over. What happens next will remain off the record. I leave with a mouth full of bile. My childlike wonder has been extinguished. I came to seek out the man behind the shield and I have done just that, but he is not who I expected.
I was ready for a humble man, a man like any of us; the same wants and desires. Still human despite his enhancements; despite his superhuman status. What I discovered was a man who’s exceptionality has nurtured a sense of entitlement.
And we do owe him our lives, our gratitude, we owe him the world. Yet I cannot dismiss the sense that he might regret his good deeds. That to him, it has become a thankless chore. That we are the needy children and he has been burdened with our cries for help.
So we should not be surprised or upset upon his retirement, not if, but when it comes. And we cannot fault him for his departure. It has been a long-time coming.’
🖋️
You took a breath and sat back in your chair. You rubbed your cheeks as the recording began to repeat itself. You stopped it and checked the time. You’d spend your morning editing and hope you would be ready for submission by the evening.
As you hit save, you felt an odd tremor deep inside. This could be it. Your big story. Or you could be tired and entirely up your own ass. You only hoped it was the former.
🖋️
You sat across from Poppy as she read your article through the glasses which sat low on her long nose. She was just past forty and wouldn’t look it if she didn’t wear the ridiculous half-circle spectacles. She wore a shade of red which paid homage to her name and her lipstick was just as bold. Her long lashes flicked up as she lowered the pages and her blonde hair fell behind her shoulder.
“Well…” She said carefully. “It is…interesting.”
You swallowed nervously as you teetered on the edge of the acrylic seat. Her long manicured nails played with the corner of the article.
“I had initially planned to have this in the back pages. No one really cares about the Avengers anymore.” She said. “But this is… I will discuss it with our marketing team but I know a feature when I see it.”
“A feature?” Your lips parted and you sat back as you gripped the thin arms of the chair.
“Oh, yes,” She said. “Another celebrity break-up is not exactly scandalous and to be frank, I do tire of that ridiculous narrative. But this… you will be hearing from me soon.”
“Uh,” You stood awkwardly at what you were sure was a dismissal. “Thank you.”
“For what? Doing my job? Should I thank you for doing yours?” She countered.
“N-no,” You stuttered.
“Go on then. I’m certain you have other work to do.” She tapped her long nails. “You certainly will once this is ready to print.”
You nodded and left her. She was already on her phone before the door closer behind you and you looked around the blindly bright office. It would be your first feature and it was the first article which had earned you more than a passive grumble from the woman. Perhaps you hadn’t been so foolish to think you had actually done something well.
#Steve Rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers x reader#dark!steve rogers x reader#she#dark fic#dark!fic#au#series#fic#mcu#marvel#captain america
622 notes
·
View notes
Text
Walking the Baseline (1/1)
He’s at the top of his game. She’s in the midst of a comeback. The Olympics are just around the corner, and there’s more than gold medals on the line. There’s secrets and personal lives and a lot more at risk than simply losing, but as most know, Killian Jones and Emma Swan hate to lose.
rating: mature (just to err on the safe side)
a/n: Hello, hello, my darlings! I was informed of the @captainswanolympics as I’ve missed so much in my time of only checking messages and posting YWUSS, and I just had to write a tennis AU. If you know me, you know I played tennis back in the day, worked behind the scenes for a professional tennis tournament, and am an avid fan, so the fact that I haven’t written more CS tennis is surprising. lol.
This one is short and sweet, and it’s the first CS I’ve written in months. So I genuinely hope you enjoy it. And no, you don’t have to know tennis to understand 🎾
ao3: | here |
tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo
-/-
“My legs feel like jelly,” Emma sighs as she sinks into an ice bath. It’s never pleasant, and it may not even help, but it makes her feel better every time. “Like, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk when I get out of here. I don’t think I can even stand now.”
“You say that after every long match,” David tells her, clicking away at his iPad. There’s no doubt he’s studying her stats and about to pick her apart in a friendly yet incredibly harsh way that is a David trademark. “Is your shoulder okay? Your first serve percentage was up, but your speed was down.”
Yep. He’s so predictable. She knew that was coming the moment she decided to change the speed on her serves.
“I’m fine. I’m tired. I mean, shit, David. It’s like the tour is trying to ruin our bodies. My last two-week break was when? March? It’s almost August, and it’s not going to stop there.”
“You’ve made it before. You can do it again.”
“That’s not encouraging.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me that I don’t have to do this.”
David looks up from his iPad, brow raised, and she knows she’s not going to get the answer she wants. He doesn’t tell her she can quit unless they’re in a heated argument after disagreeing on her service motion or her footwork, which will always be her downfall when she’s exhausted, or any other aspect of her game. That’s what happens when your coach is not only your couch but also your older brother.
“I’m not going to say that. You’re in the quarterfinals. You play against Svitolina, who you have an excellent record against, and then in the semis, it could go either way with French or Stephens. That’s who we’re worried about. We’re not thinking about the finals until we’re in the finals.”
“I’m not thinking about just the finals. I’m thinking about the fact that I played Madrid, Rome, Roland Garros, Eastbourne, Wimbledon, Washington, here. And now I’m supposed to fly to Rio for the Olympics, then fly to Cincinnati, and then New York. And after New York, we almost immediately fly to Beijing, and it doesn’t stop. I get, what? A month and a half off, but it’s not really off time because we spend that time fixing everything for next season. The only way I get a break is if I lose or I get injured, and I don’t want either of those things.”
Emma’s chest heaves as she finishes speaking, the words flying out faster than her mind can come up with them as she runs through her tournament schedule, and David doesn’t blink. He stares at her like he always does, and sometimes she swears it’s like staring at a male version of herself. And she knows what’s coming. She always does. David never got to play past college, the professional circuit too much for his body, and he always pulls the card of how much he would give to be playing right now, to be in her position. She gets it. If she was in his position, she would do the same thing, but right now, all she really wants is to cry.
“You have worked too hard to quit, Emma,” David sighs, giving her a patented big-brother condescending stare. “You are not going to quit. I know this part of the season is rough, but you push through it every year. And imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have a gold medal around your neck or when you have that US Open trophy in your hands. You don’t get to play forever, and you’re the one who said that you weren’t quitting when everyone would have easily expected it. Do you want to prove them right?”
Emma moves in the bath, sinking a little lower, and damn, her sports bra is going to be impossible to get off. Her gaze shifts from David to the TV where ESPN commentators are sitting at a desk, her Nike-approved picture on the screen beside them. They run through the stats of her match and then her overall career stats. She’s twenty-eight, which is apparently at the end of her career according to them, world number seven, which is also abysmal to them somehow, and she is not living up to her potential when she is a former world number one, six-time grand slam champion, and a gold medalist from four years ago in London.
She groans and tries not to think about how much she hates all the people who work for ESPN. They have their favorites and the ones they hate, and since she is not a mediocre American male or one of the all-time greats, she’s somewhere in between. Usually, she doesn’t listen to the comments, to the pundits, to the assholes. She tries to stay away from that because it will drive her into a deep state of negativity, but lately, it’s like she can’t get enough of listening to what people say about her as if it is going to give her some kind of insight to her game.
She doesn’t crave their validation, but maybe, in a twisted way, she does.
“She gave birth sixteen months ago,” Mary Jo sighs. “She came back a year after giving birth. She is not going to be who she was before she had a child. The fact that she’s won enough this year to be in the top ten is amazing when she started with no ranking since there are no tour protections for maternity leave. She’s a champion, and sometimes champions struggle as they get their form back.”
“Sixteen months is a long damn time,” Patrick says, and Emma’s vagina would beg to differ. “She should be back to how she was or she shouldn’t be playing.”
“Have you given birth, Patrick? Because unless you have, I don’t think you get a say.”
“It’s my job to say what I think.”
“Still, I think – ”
The television clicks off, and Emma’s gaze finds its way back to David. “We’re not listening to them. It’ll piss you off. Mary Jo is right. You’re doing amazing, and I don’t want you to forget that.”
Emma doesn’t know if she’s doing amazing, doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time. This job is hard enough, to kill your body while also having the eyes of the world on you, but adding in a baby? It’s nearly impossible. A few other women have done it before her, not all with spectacular returns or returns at all, and she wants to keep getting better and play for long enough that Olivia will be able to see her mom play and remember it.
She’s not just doing it for herself. She’s doing it for her daughter, whose entrance into the world was unplanned, terrifying, and the best damn thing to ever happen to Emma even if she doubts herself in motherhood every day.
“I miss her,” Emma whispers to David, reaching up to play with her necklace, Olivia’s initials engraved in the gold circle. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two more weeks without seeing her.”
“Do you want me to get Mary Margaret to FaceTime you with her? They’ve been watching your match at home.”
“No, no.” She shakes her head and releases the pendant, her resolve back as she inhales and focuses on her job. “Let’s do the rest of my recovery and talk about the match. I’ll call them when we get back to the hotel. I don’t want to get my mind too much out of the game.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
-/-
She wins her next match. And the next.
She loses in the final.
It stings more than her losses usually do, and there have been a hell of a lot of them, but she wanted to win another premiere event. She’s only been winning small events so far this year and making it to the later stages of the bigger events, but she keeps falling short when it’s time for her to push herself over the limit. Emma knows that her time will come, but she’s exhausted.
-/-
She flies to Rio with the rest of the American team who were playing in Montreal and Toronto, and she sleeps the entire ride down.
It’s the most sleep she’s gotten since she gave birth.
-/-
The 2012 Olympics felt familiar for Emma. The matches happened at Wimbledon, a place she’s known since she was sixteen years old and has watched on TV since she was even younger than that. Tennis players were isolated from the rest of the sports and events, and they all stayed in their usual rented houses and apartments instead of the Village or other hotels. Rio is different and completely unfamiliar. She’s staying in the Village, and while the amenities aren’t the best, the spirit of the Games are everywhere. She’s seeing athletes she’s only ever seen on TV before, meeting dozens of people whose names quickly slip out of her mind no matter how hard she tries to keep them there, and it’s impossible not to get excited to see all of these great athletes gathered together.
When she was a kid sitting in a foster home with David, the two of them wondering if they’d ever have a forever home, they would watch reruns of the Olympics on the TV, just waiting for the live ones to come around. It was an escape to get to watch people only a few years older than them doing these great things, and even after Ruth adopted them and paid for them to play sports, they never could have imagined being here.
Emma, sitting on a park bench outside with prestigious gymnasts walking in front of her, still can’t imagine it, and she’s literally here.
“Am I allowed to sit here or is that considered fraternizing with the enemy?”
Emma glances up and sees Killian Jones already sliding onto the bench in front of her. He’s darker than the last time she saw him in person, his hair longer, teeth possibly whiter, and he definitely hasn’t shaved in a few too many days. But the cocky, almost a little too arrogant, smile is the same, and even if she said no, he would still sit across from her. She knows him well enough to know that now.
“As far as I’m aware, you’re not playing mixed doubles, so I don’t think you count as an enemy.”
“Ah, but, love, Americans and Brits have been enemies since the beginning. That doesn’t change here.”
“Everyone else gets along. You’re just a competitive ass.”
“Indeed I am.” He wiggles his brows and leans forward, smirk stretched across his lips. “So, I was handed a bag full of Olympic-themed condoms when I checked in. Would you like to go try them out?”
“Shut up,” Emma laughs, kicking his leg. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Too many things to count.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, muscles ever-so-slightly bulging underneath his Team Great Britain t-shirt. She’s wearing a similar one with USA emblazoned in the biggest font she’s ever seen. Not a lot of subtly going on at the moment. “Where’s Ruby? David? Any of the other Americans? Shouldn’t you all be eating or practicing or doing something besides sitting on a bench by the water?”
“Shouldn’t you?”
“Touché, Swan. Touché. Will and I were on the way to eat, but I saw you and got distracted. I don’t have practice until later. Rob is forcing me to give myself a break so I don’t exhaust myself after Toronto.”
“Well, you do have old bones.”
“Oi, I am thirty-two and at the top of my game. How many people can say that?”
“Anyone who is not an athlete.”
Killian shrugs and tilts his head to the side, rolling his shoulders. He’s right, though. Killian is playing better than he ever has. He’s always been good ever since he was touted to be Great Britain’s next big thing. She watched for years as the British media slagged him off for not having won Wimbledon despite having won the other majors two times around, but six years ago, he won after a five-hour, grueling match and fell onto the ground. The image was everywhere, and now, every time she’s in London or Wimbledon, that image lines the walls. It’s how she felt when she won the US Open. All of the major are special, but winning your home one, if you’re lucky enough to have one, is something else. And now Killian is world number one once more, has won two majors in a row with several premiere events in between, and with his form, she can’t imagine him losing.
But that’s why you lace up the sneakers. You never know what’s going to happen.
She’s been around the game long enough to know that.
Killian too.
Their paths have crossed for years, mostly because they have the same sponsors and do a lot of promotional events together, but the more they both started winning, the more they’d see each other at tournaments and dinners and everything in between. It’s a busy life, and while there’s time to make friends outside of tennis, sometimes it’s easier to find people in the industry.
She’s not entirely sure she would call Killian Jones a friend.
“Have you eaten, love?” he asks.
“Not yet.” On cue, her stomach growls, and he smirks, not that he really stopped.
“Why don’t you come with me? You can sit with us before we take the bus to the courts for training.”
“What happened to fraternizing with the enemy?”
He leans forward and winks. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”
Emma laughs but nods and stands with Killian as they walk to the main dining hall. It’s packed, the room echoing with conversation and laughter, and Emma and Killian are stopped several times to take pictures and sign autographs, something she will never get used to, before they sit down with Will, Rob, and several other plays from all around the world. For a minute, it’s like they’re in their usual bubble that they live in for the rest of the year with only tennis players around, but then Emma sees Usain Bolt walk by and she knows they’re not.
This is weird.
This is wonderful.
This is almost everything.
-/-
The Opening Ceremonies are long and sometimes boring, and she hates the outfit she has to wear, but she doesn’t know if she’ll get to do this again in four years so she savors it.
She savors it all, walking side by side with Ruby, Ashley, and Anna, and she takes all of it in before her mind switches to work-mode as she runs through her opponent for her first match. The nerves have been pushed down in favor of the experience, but they’re back and in full-force.
She cannot lose in the first round.
-/-
She doesn’t. -/-
She doesn’t lose her next few matches either.
-/-
Emma’s made it to the quarterfinals in both singles and doubles with Ruby after several days of long matches and struggling to see the ball – whoever thought making a fully green court with green side walls for tennis has obviously never played tennis, and she never wants to play on center court again – and she knows she’s one win away from guaranteeing that she plays in a medal-winning match.
It’s a relief and pressure all at once, something she’ll never grow used to, and as the sun sets and the village begins to get loud, Emma sits on her balcony watching the fountains in the lake light up. Ruby is off with Mulan somewhere Emma would rather not know about and will probably not be back to their room until at least tomorrow morning if the look on Ruby’s face was any indication, so Emma thinks she might get a little time to sit down and breathe for a moment, watching different events on TV. She could go watch them, but she doesn’t think her legs will carry her there.
Until her phone buzzes with a text that she quickly answers, and not three minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.
Emma quickly opens it, pulling him inside, and Killian kicks the door closed behind him as he cups her cheeks and kisses her, long and slow but with enough heat simmering below the surface that Emma knows there could be a promise of more later.
She’s seen him nearly every day for the past week, but she’s missed him.
She’s missed this.
His mouth moves expertly over hers in a rhythm that’s been practiced to perfection, and she feels dizzy with his kiss and holds onto his hair to keep her standing up. The Brazilian summer air wafts through the room, coating it in a thick heat, but Emma doesn’t pay any attention to that as heat curls between her thighs, warming her more than the air ever could. Her legs ache from the match, her arms feel heavy, but Killian makes her forget those things as he lays her down on the bed and kisses every inch of her body, spending time with his dark head of hair buried beneath her thighs until she can no longer speak.
Until she can scarcely breathe as well.
She manages to laugh, though, when he pulls out one of the condoms that has the Olympics logo on it, and she and Killian makes jokes about it as he slides into her, a thick sheath of heat that she never gets used to. It’s slow at first, a gentle rocking that keeps her teetering on the edge, but their bodies are tired and worn, and soon, it’s a race to the finish line.
Emma comes in first, not that it matters.
(But it does feel good to beat him.)
(They’re both competitive asses.)
(Even when they shouldn’t be.)
After, they’re both slick with sweat that doesn’t go away as their bodies press together on the small twin bed. Emma almost wishes she had rented a house outside the village like David and some of the other coaches did, but she doesn’t want to give up the experience. And it’s fine, especially as Killian shifts behind her and lets her settle into him, her hips pressing back into his as his arm wraps around to rest on her stomach, fingers occasionally searching out for her breast.
Emma is exhausted, but this is the best she’s felt in weeks.
(She definitely couldn’t walk to any of the events now, and she did want to see Phelps swim.)
“You played bloody fantastic in your doubles match today.”
“Not my singles?”
“I played at the same time as you. I didn’t get a chance to watch.”
Emma hums and leans further back into him. She’s glad Killian did most of the work because just thinking about how much she’s got to move again tomorrow is making her sore. “I played well there too. Straight sets.”
“Atta girl.” His lips press into her neck, stubble scratching across the skin. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Oh, that’s always dangerous.”
Killian laughs but nudges his knee into her, which really only settles his cock between her ass, but she’s too tired to think of doing anything else. “I’ve been thinking,” he continues, “that I’m going to withdraw from Cincinnati and fly home instead.”
“To London?”
“To Palm Beach. I think it might be nice to have a calm week between tournaments to spend time with my girlfriend.”
“Oh really? You’ll have to tell her your plan. I’m sure she’d like that.”
Killian tickles her stomach, making her squirm, before he lightly pinches her side. “Mhm. I thought we might also like to spend time with our daughter since FaceTime isn’t cutting it for me anymore. I swear she’s grown three feet since I last saw her.”
“Four, I think. She’s basically a full-grown adult now with all that walking and talking she’s doing.”
“Has she said any new words I’m not aware of?”
“Nope. She still can only say the three.”
“Good. I’m glad I didn’t miss anything else.” Killian kisses the side of Emma’s neck again, and she twists around, wrapping her arms around him and pressing their noses together as she stares into blue, blue eyes that aren’t diminished by the darkened room. “I think we should bring her to New York with us. Hopefully at least one of us will be there for three weeks, and that’s just too long to go without her.”
“We’re staying in a hotel in New York. In two separate suites, I might add.”
“But we don’t have to.”
“Killian…”
His hand brushes down her side, warmth permeating from the rough fingertips, before it rests on her hip, thumb moving in soothing circles. “I’ve already called and seen if they could give me the Penthouse. It’s an entire floor with private entrances and a private elevator. Our teams can stay with us or they can stay in the original suites we were designated. I know you bring her with you when you can and that I sneak in visits, but I want to be able to stay with my daughter.”
This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and if she doesn’t say yes to it, it won’t be the last.
Things between she and Killian are complicated. They’re relationship isn’t, not anymore. At first, she couldn’t stand him, thought he was genuinely this cocky asshole from the way he talked in matches and in off-court interviews, like he was God’s gift to the sport or something. Then they ended up both winning in Australia four years ago, and while doing press together, she saw a different, kinder side to him that she hadn’t previously seen when they worked together in Nike promotions.
Fast forward through a lot of early morning calls, late night rendezvous in their hotel rooms, and a heck of a lot of texts and FaceTime sessions, and somewhere along the way, the impenetrable Emma Swan fell in love with the impossible Killian Jones.
They kept it secret, the both of them knowing how vicious the media is to athletes that date each other, especially since Killian was going through a wrist injury that was somehow his fault according to the pundits and that he was getting hounded pretty hard at the time. They didn’t know if it was going to work, neither of them having stellar relationship records, but they figured eventually they would be okay with the world knowing.
Then came the positive pregnancy test, and Emma’s entire world shifted.
She was at the top of her game, at the top of her world, and as hard as it is for her to admit now, she didn’t want Olivia. She wanted to keep living her life the way it was. That was a possibility but not one she was willing to take, so she stopped playing but kept training as she and Killian figured out how they were going to do this.
They’re never home, rarely together, and they were both way out of their leagues. It would have been easier to tell the world they were together, that Killian was the father, but Olivia’s protection is worth more than their ease.
Now, though, looking at the crease between Killian’s brow and the sadness pooled in his eyes, she wonders if they’re doing the right thing.
“I know. I’m sorry. I – ” Emma’s lips quiver, and she nearly cries. She’s exhausted beyond belief and doesn’t know what to do, so she buries her face in Killian’s neck and wraps her arms around him. “Can we talk about this on the plane ride home?”
Emma says home as if they’re going to the same place after this. They’re not. But maybe she should listen to Killian and take the break she’s been craving.
“Aye, love, if that’s what you want.”
She nods and feels his lips ghost over the crown of her hair. “I want to lay here with you and not think about tennis or make hard decisions.”
“You want to talk about how bloody uncomfortable this bed is?”
Emma laughs. “It really makes you miss those awful ones in Paris.”
“You had to ask for a new one.”
“It was so worth it.”
-/-
They FaceTime Olivia in the morning. Mary Margaret has her in a matching outfit to Emma’s uniform, and Killian scoffs that she’s representing America instead of Great Britain.
Emma thinks it’s the best thing in the world, and it reminds her who she’s playing for.
It’s not for her country, not for herself. It’s for her daughter.
Their daughter.
-/-
The next two days drag by and yet she has a difficult time keeping up with them. Her practices are long, recovery longer as her shoulders are massaged and legs are iced, and Ruby has to drag her out onto the court for doubles when all she wants to do is sleep. She’s not used to playing this many matches in such a short period of time, and while having Ruby on court with her helps lessen how much she runs, her legs are still aching.
She’s almost to the finish line. She can make it.
“Those legs are too pretty for you to be dragging them like that,” Ruby jokes as they sit down during a changeover in the third set of their quarterfinal match. Emma reaches for her energy drink and takes a sip before biting into a banana while Ruby shakes her legs.
“I can’t make them move.”
“Yes, you can,” Ruby insists. “You already won your singles today, and we’re four games away from winning this match. I will kick your ass if we don’t win this.”
“Can you kick my ass if it’s already kicked?”
“I can indeed.” Ruby pats Emma’s knees and smiles. “Come on, hot mama. We’ve got this.”
And it’s tough, but they do.
Emma and Ruby go through recovery, and when Emma checks her watch, she sees that Killian’s match is just about to start.
“Do you want to get a bus across the grounds and go watch swimming?” Ruby asks her as David massages her calf. It’s not his job, so he obviously can’t stop complaining about doing it.
“I think I want to watch Killian’s match. Can we get seats in the stadium? Is his box empty?”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” David asks her as her muscle spasms.
“If we all go, it won’t be suspicious. He’s playing Sam, so they might think we’re supporting the Americans.”
“Aren’t we?”
Her eyes roll. “Not in this situation. Come on. Text Rob and see if we can get into Killian’s box.”
David levels her with a stare, and she knows he’s going to say no, that it’s a bad idea. But then he releases her leg and pulls his phone out of his pocket.
They end up going still dressed in their match clothes, and Emma puts on a sweatshirt, a cap, and sunglasses to hide herself as much as possible. She knows it won’t work considering she’s literally wearing the outfit she has worn all week, but she can at least try. It’s been years since she’s gotten to watch one of Killian’s matches from somewhere other than the locker room or her hotel room, and she’s missed the magic of watching him play. He’s fluid with his motions, even if they are slower than they used to be, and his groundstrokes are powerful from the baseline. She knows from the moment that she sits down that he’s winning this match. She can tell by the way he’s carrying himself and the determination in his eyes. She grabs her phone and snaps a picture just as he looks her way, brow raised in question but a smile on his lips.
-/-
Killian wins his match, and she finds him in the tunnel afterward, his team creating a wall around them, and wraps her arms around him, not caring that they are both disgustingly sweaty or around other people.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“And I you.” The corner of his lips brush against her temple. “You’re amazing, Emma. Bloody amazing.”
“You too, my love.”
-/-
Emma wins the semifinals of both of her matches.
Killian wins his.
They’re both playing in gold medal matches – Emma definitely brags about how she’s playing two while Killian is only playing one – and she wants to vomit.
Holy shit.
-/-
“Say hi to your mommy,” Mary Margaret tells Olivia as Olivia keeps smacking her hand on the screen. “Your mom and dad are there trying to talk to you, Livvie.”
Emma leans her head onto Killian’s shoulder as they both stare into the screen waiting for Olivia to move her hand. She does with some help from Mary Margaret, and then bright green eyes show up. She has Emma’s eyes and dirty blonde hair that’s thick and wavy, but everything else about her screams Killian, especially her smile. Emma has missed that smile.
“Hello, little love.” Killian waves and tries to get her attention, but she couldn’t care less. “Don’t you want to talk to us?”
She makes a noise that isn’t a word, and Mary Margaret sighs. “I’m sorry. She’s been asking about you two, but now that you’re there, she doesn’t care. I tried to tell her what a big deal the two of you were, but she doesn’t care.”
“I’ll have to tell her how incredible her mother is later. She’s going to be the first women to win two singles golds in a row as well as the first mum to do it. And she’s going to have two more medals than me. Showing me up in every category.”
“That’s assuming you win, Jones. I could have three more gold medals than you.”
“I do love a challenge.”
Olivia starts giggling, Emma’s favorite noise on the planet, and she tries to memorize it to keep with her always. She knows Killian does too.
-/-
Emma’s gold medal matches are the day before Killian’s, and she’s jealous he gets a day off to rest. He tells her he’s going to spend the entire time training, sneaking in and out of other events, and watching her matches. She rolls her eyes at his texts because she’s sure he won’t have time to do all of that.
And yet he does.
She sees him in the stands during her doubles match. Ruby points him out when they’re in the middle of discussing serving spots, and Emma laughs at her calling him “lover boy” in a horrible British accent. She always calls him a ridiculous name, and of the few people who know of Emma’s private life, she’s glad Ruby is one of them.
Even if she’s still laughing and double faults on an important point.
It doesn’t matter, though, because within an hour and fifteen minutes, their shortest match of the tournament, she’s on the court’s floor with Ruby sobbing because they won a fucking gold medal.
She gets so little time to savor it, however, because the medal ceremony happens so quickly that she can barely take It all in. She also has press to do, and David has to practically force her into the media room where she and Ruby are hounded with more questions than congratulation as they clutch onto their medals. Ruby handles it like the pro she is while Emma’s nerves start to get the best of her as more people start talking about what she has on the line.
To be the first man or woman to win two gold singles medals in consecutive Olympics.
To win another gold medal for her country.
To be the first mother since Clijsters to win a major tournament.
To win her first big tournament since her comeback.
To have the possibility to win another gold medal in Tokyo in four years if she’s still playing.
It’s a lot, and she knows it. She’s been thinking about all of it every day this week, and her track record of choking in finals lately is pushing at the forefront of her mind.
She doesn’t know if she can do it.
And yet she does.
She laces up her sneakers, pulls her hair back, and takes a deep breath as she blocks everything out of her mind except for her game plan. She knows how the game is played. She’s been playing since she was twelve years old, and even though that’s a late start compared to most people, it’s gotten her here.
Emma walks out of the tunnel as her name is announced over the speakers, and even though all she can hear is the cheer of the crowd, she lets her mind go back to Olivia’s laugh, Killian’s smile, David’s pep talk, Ruby’s ridiculous texts. She thinks of all the things that push her when she wants to stop, and she reminds herself that no matter what happens, she’s done her best.
She could have given up the moment the stick said “pregnant.” She could have packed it all in, but she didn’t. She’s here, and she’s better than any excuse she could come up with not to be.
People have tried to tell her who she is her entire life, but she’s pushed back and said, “no, this is who I am.” Emma still has to do that now, no matter how many times she has proven herself.
The ice bath in Montreal where she wanted to quit seems years away when it was only eight days.
-/-
Emma looks to Ruby then David then Killian as she takes a deep breath on match point. Killian smiles and gives her a subtle nod, and then she raises the ball in the air, ready to toss it.
-/-
Game. Set. Gold freaking medal.
-/-
Afterward, she falls to the ground, her knees aching as they hit the asphalt, and her body can’t stop shaking with her sobs. She doesn’t know what she feels or how she feels or even where she is, and she only gets up from the ground when she hears her family calling for her. She slowly rises from the ground, runs across the court to congratulate her opponent on playing a good match, and then she’s running to the stands and climbing up with David’s help. She embraces him first. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. he’s been her rock for her entire life, and he keeps her steady. Then it’s her physio and her agent and Ruby. Then, over to the side, is Killian, and their conversation from a few nights ago comes back to her.
She loves him. She’s proud to be with him. They shouldn’t have to hide their family anymore.
They haven’t exactly been doing a good job of it this week anyway.
So Emma very literally pounces on him, her legs wrapping around his waist, before she remembers that he has a match tomorrow. She can’t miss his back up. He’d never let it go if she did. Her feet fall to the ground, but her arms stay wrapped around Killian’s neck as he whispers words of encouragement and congratulations that she’s always going to keep close to her heart, right next to the necklace with the initials O-S-J on them.
Two people thousands of miles apart were brought together by chances, a whole myriad of them. If Ruth hadn’t adopted Emma and David, they never would have picked up a racket. If Emma had never picked up a racket, she wouldn’t have found her purpose in this world. She wouldn’t have a job or a daughter or a man who loves her in spite of how hard she is to love. There was so much that could have derailed her, both good and bad, and while she could say none of it matters, in some way, it all does.
Because it led her here.
And she doesn’t want to be anywhere else even if she would give anything to be able to hug Olivia right now.
“You did so good, Swan,” Killian whispers, his voice the only one she hears.
“I know.”
He pulls back, and there are tears in his eyes that mirror her own. “So, I guess I have to win tomorrow so your bragging rights don’t get too big.”
“Oh, Jones, you are never catching up with me now,” she teases, all of the exhaustion melting away. “I’m miles ahead of you, but you better win. Olivia doesn’t need to be embarrassed by her dad.”
“Pretty sure that’s my job.”
“Right now, your only job is to help me back down onto the court and then go win yourself a gold medal.”
“Don’t tell the presses you’re rooting for a Brit.”
Emma shrugs as Killian thumbs away tears underneath her eyes. “I don’t care anymore, and I’m definitely going to be sitting in your box tomorrow, cheering louder than anyone else.”
-/-
When Killian wins the next night after a torturous four hours, his fall is almost identical to Emma’s. Though, when he climbs into the stands to get to the box, he immediately goes for Emma, cupping her cheeks and kissing her for the entire world to see.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to embarrass our daughter in another way.”
“I think her parents making out on international TV might do just that.”
-/-
Two days after they get home – they spent the entire first day sleeping and holding Olivia – Emma puts on her three gold medals, Killian puts on his one, and they hold Olivia in between them, her toothy smile brighter than the gold as the photo is taken.
Olivia Swan-Jones has a pretty cool mom and a dad who has some catching up to do in the gold medal department.
It’s Emma’s most liked picture on Instagram, not that she cares about any of those things, and it’s the biggest news story for three days straight despite the literal Olympics still happening.
All Emma cares about, though, is that she has a week off – she opted out of Cincinnati after all, despite David’s protests – she can spend with her family before she and Killian are off to New York where the pressure will be the highest it’s ever been and the media will most likely be losing their shit over Emma and Killian’s announcements.
Olivia will be with her, Killian too, and in the end, that’s all that matters.
Oh, that, and the fact that Emma Swan is officially back, and it feels damn good.
-/-
-/-
Thanks for reading, my friends! Can’t wait for those 2021 Olympics 🤞and learning about sports I’ve still somehow never heard of. And if you want to talk to me about tennis, I’m fully here to talk about Rafael Nadal’s biceps and how his game is underrated despite being one of the most dominant athletes of all time 💚😂
#walking the baseline#cs fic#cs ff#cs fanfic#cs olympics#captain swan fanfic#captain swan ff#captain swan fic#captain swan#csow
160 notes
·
View notes
Note
Imagine Roxas’s reaction to seeing Axel shirtless when he started getting buff for the first time
Enjoy the distraction of the evening and Roxas and Sora bonding, and be warned of language and reference to adult situations.
"Can I complain to you about Riku for a second?" Sora asked. It was perhaps not the ideal time to start a new conversation as Roxas was in the process of landing the gummi ship in a clear spot of grass in the courtyard outside the entrance to the keyblade academy at the Land of Departure, but that was how Sora was, keeping things in and then letting them explode forth at times that often seemed odd to others, but were simply the breaking point to him.
"No, I require at least ten minutes of complaining about Riku every week,"Roxas deadpanned, guiding the ship down between two others already parked. "You know the time table. Three minutes without air. Three days without food. Seven days without busting Riku's silver dusted balls."
"Gold," Sora chirped, unbuckling his restraints and going for the door.
"I'm going to regret this," Roxas sighed, half to himself as he followed suit, "But...what?"
"Gold medal," Sora grinned. "Everything in that area is nothing less than first place."
"Strongly disagree." Roxas screwed up his face in exaggerated disgust.
"You have no way of..." Sora complained as they started up to the castle.
"Please, can we get to the complaining?" Roxas cut him off.
"It's official even. The council of judges, me and Data Sora judging pictures saved on my gummi phone, awarded him the blue ribbon. I tied it..."
"I will give you all the munny in my munny bag not to finish that sentence." It was pretty clear to Roxas that Sora was torturing him on purpose for crimes of his past lives. Sometimes he still hated his other.
"Then I suppose you don't want to hear about the ribbon cutting ceremony either? Or, well, it was more of a ribbon untying ceremony. I'm not usually good at tongue tricks like the cherry thing so I was kind of proud of myself that I managed to..."
The pattern of hasty interruption of an oblivious or happily malicious Sora continued. "For the love of sea salt ice cream, Sora, I'm begging you to stop before I hurl."
"What were you talking about before?" Sora blanked and grasped at straws of stray thought. "Tortillas?"
"What? Why would you think that?"
"It was taco night when I came up with the ribbon ceremony."
"You were going to tell me how much Riku was annoying you."
The enlightened glow of remembrance entered Sora's eyes, but the spark of happiness at conquering his brain only lasted a moment before Sora was collapsing against the doors of the castle academy, playing up the drama of whining, "Riku is driving me crazy!"
"That's more like it! Tell me all about it." Roxas was perhaps a bit overzealous in his support, judging by the look Sora shot him, so he tried a more nonchalant and less gleeful tone, "You'll feel better."
"He keeps looking at me like I'm going to disappear in front of his eyes. He's woken me up in the middle of the night to make sure I'm still breathing. He keeps tripping me up in battle because he's started diving between me and the Heartless, like all of a sudden I can't take care of myself. I know why it's happening, and I know he means well, but I'm not sure how much longer I can take it. Do you have that problem with Axel?"
Now, he and Axel had to work through some anxiety about being separated again. It had taken a lot of long talks, time, and trust exercises, to work through them, but now Roxas could help Sora with Riku's issues from the point of view of someone who had been there before and gotten out. Or he could just make a joke. "Well, I'm afraid he'll get caught in a strong wind one night and snap in half, but I'm trying to keep myself rational. I mean I can stick unwound hangers in his clothes to try and create a brace from something more substantial than his limbs, and I can put a bell on him so I don't lose track of him when he turns sideways, but after we take all the precautions we can, all I can do is tell him to be careful lifting his keyblade so it doesn't break his arm, and look at the positive. He and Jack Skellington wear the same size jacket and being able to trade clothes with the King of Halloween is pretty cool."
"What are you talking about?"
Roxas steeled himself to be drawn into a serious talk anyway, taking a spot leaning against the doors alongside Sora and putting a hand on his shoulder, dearly hoping someone didn't open the door from the other side and send them sprawling. "Listen, I picked a ridiculous example, but the same principle applies. Take measures to keep each other safe--simple ones that don't stop you from being able to do your job-- talk about what his fears are, and then just try to find silver linings and agree to live your lives. You guys are going to be okay."
"Oh yeah, I know that," Sora dismissed, shaking off his hand. "I was just letting off steam. Riku's actually being really sweet. I just need to make him realize what he's doing before he finds a way to sacrifice himself again to keep me safe. What you said about Axel doesn't make sense though. He's ripped."
"He's a twig," Roxas countered with a scoff. "He's got the muscle mass of the jelly creature from Monstropolis, and looks like it the time it let me suck it into a large straw to make Boo laugh. I love him but he's a scarecrow. My stickman scarecrow, and I love him, but let's be realistic."
The light of dawning realization lit Sora's eyes once more, and Roxas found it a bit unnerving. He was definitely missing something. "...Haven't you visited Axel since he started training with Terra?"
"No, this is my first visit, to see Terra confer the master title on him." Master ceremonies had become a big thing now, a little pomp and circumstance to make it seem more important, Roxas guessed. Riku had missed out. Too bad for him. "He was on a journey of the soul as well as the body...Whatever that means. Terra didn't want me distracting him."
"That's what makes it more fun. When I went to retake my mark of mastery at Yensid's tower...Wait a second, Terra ordered you to do something and you just listened?" Sora's pursed lips and glaring eyes spoke more of tantrum throwing toddler than betrayed friend.
"He's a master," Roxas answered simply, though it wasn't respect for orders of a master that held him back. He could have been a master too, if he wanted, if he felt like he needed the validation of being recognized by the others and wanted to jump through hoops set up by Yensid or Aqua or even worse options. He had been named master of the keyblade by the Organization, that was enough. He and Axel had agreed they would help guard the worlds but they wouldn't play into the ranking game. Axel had changed his mind, and Roxas respected that, but he felt no compulsion to join him.
"You never listen when Riku tells you to do something. He's a master too."
"Master, my ass."
"No, master of my..."
"Why do you have to be like this?" Roxas groaned, sliding to the ground.
"Don't get pissy just because you haven't gotten laid in months."
"I didn't visit because Axel told me not to. We've been doing the long distance thing. We've done it before for stretches, like when he and Isa were working on their first book,"Roxas answered Sora's original question, loudly, to change the subject.
"But you've talked on the gummi phone?"
"Every night."
"With video?"
"Is this going back to a weird place you never leave?"
"I live in the gutter now!" Sora confirmed happily, before going back to neutral. "No, it's a serious question. Have you gotten a good look at Axel recently?"
"Same loveable bozo sleeping in a fuzzy zip up adult onesie that makes him look like a Meow Wow he's always been. "
"You haven't seen him out of the onesie?" At Roxas's exasperated look, Sora defended himself once more. "Legitimate question."
"Some nights I don't even see him take down the hood. He has a voice for Meowaxel."
"And you were griping about the ribbon ceremony. Your sex story is much weirder."
"We don't have phone sex," Roxas's pining despair outweighed his distaste for discussing this kind of thing with Sora who was a dog that never let go of a bone without making a joke about boning. "We have an agreement. He almost crashed a gummi ship once."
"You...while he was driving?" Sora looked impressed and Roxas felt a rare flash of shame.
"New idea?" He pushed through and said the words as if they were a crack of his own.
"Great idea!" Sora's face split into a wide grin and Roxas apologized to Riku internally, the only way he ever did so. Sora grabbed his former Nobody's arm and dragged him to his feet. "Come on. We're going to spy on Axel sparring with Terra. They have a routine. Terra wouldn't deviate from it even knowing people are arriving for the ceremony tonight."
"I am always down to see my baby light someone on fire," Roxas followed Sora down the hill, pliable and, frankly, excited to see Axel as soon as possible.
"Baby? Blech." Sora pulled a face that lasted maybe half a second and rang false while it did, thrilled and supportive as always to see Roxas showing a soft spot, but attempting to play some of Roxas's own attitude back at him.
"Your pet names for Riku are worse...and you should not prove it by listing them." Roxas tacked on the latter part hastily, leaving no room for Sora to start his reign of terror anew.
" There are several riffs on Dream Eater that would make you wish you were as smart as me," Sora huffed, "But that's not what we're here for." He held Roxas back for a second with a thrown out arm, and glanced around the last bend in the hill. Roxas could hear sounds of exertion. Satisfied with what he saw, Sora withdrew the restraining arm in favor of waving his hands like a cheap magician as he ordered Roxas to, "Feast your eyes!"
Roxas ignored Sora's theatrics and stepped around him, only to stop short when he ended up following the other man's order despite himself. His eyes were feasting and there was an entire buffet in the form of Axel, stripped to the waist and hair up in a messy bun with damp loose tendrils stuck to the back of his neck, twisting away to avoid a strike by Terra (in his weird black spandex shirt like always, showing off for who the hell knew or cared) and using the momentum to whirl the rest of the circle and carry out his own blow, the flex and spring back of newly defined muscles Roxas had missed the development of covered by freckled skin that didn't quite make the definition of tan but had been cultivated into a tone more golden than ghost pale translucent on display. The first dish was broad shoulders that had always been there, but no longer existed just to make clothes hang smoothly like they did on a clothes hanger now that they were attached to the freshly carved meat station--arms that bulged and Roxas was going to declare illegal to ever hide under bunched neon fleece or a thick black coat again. He'd call Axel's new abs the salad bar because he wanted to charge like a bull and then start grazing, but they could also be the drink station because there was definitely a six pack there much more appealing than the beer Hayner had developed a fondness for, and Roxas was remarkably thirsty looking at them. Axel's waist was still comparatively small (Dorito. Delicious. More buffets should include snack food on the side. Jokes weren't over. The man was a snack.) but then there was perhaps the most shocking addition of all had popped into existence below it.
"Bite the buns and have a popsicles for dessert," Roxas whispered under his breath, awed, unable to even be embarrassed by half consciously daydreaming out loud because his eyes had continued their journey and found out there was now meat on the stork (too long to be chicken) drumsticks Axel walked around on.
"Think he's safe from the wind now?" Sora taunted.
"Time for you to leave." Roxas shook himself out of his daze to return fully to the present.
"What?"
"Run up to the castle," Roxas gave the same order in new phrasing as he walked on ahead and waved to Terra, yelling, "Time to leave."
The scene that ensued was bordering on comical as Terra froze, caught off guard and was smacked full in the face with head turning force by the flat of Axel's keyblade, an act that was accompanied by an apologetic, "Oh shit!" and widened eyes that spoke to Axel trying to cut his actions short but being unable to stop the blow, just lessen it. Terra stumbled and Axel reached out to steady him, but then appeared to change his mind or become irrevocably distracted halfway through as Roxas's presence sank in fully. His keyblade disappeared in a shower of sparks, Terra fell, and the lovers ran to be reunited.
Roxas found himself lifted off the ground like he weighed nothing and his soul left his body, leaving him not responsible for the happily sighed word that he used to greet Axel, "Arms."
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 4
Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and having a nice Friday! Thank you so much for all your kind, supportive words! I’m so glad you are liking this series! Disclaimer for this chapter: I’m sorry if you like Ashley Wagner as a figure skater. To be honest she bothers me which is why I picked her for a little conflict that may or may not happen during the season lol
Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, let me know if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks!
Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3
“Nope. Try again,” you said as Andre tripped over his feet and missed the net. It was Monday morning at practice and you had just shown your group the three-turn move that Nate suggested you teach them. Andre groaned and looked over at you.
“What is the point of this?” he asked.
“The point is to be more fluid. You guys do this already, you just need to follow through with it and not be choppy,” you responded.
“Maybe we are choppy because we have to keep the puck with us,” Andre grumbled and tried again, still not entirely succeeding. To be fair, not many had been successful that morning.
“You guys just need to keep your momentum,” you tried to explain. They looked at you like you were crazy. You quickly skated over to the side and grabbed a stick, becoming exasperated that they seemed not to believe you that it would work. Taking one of the pucks, you quickly did the move and shot the puck straight into the net. You turned back to your group and laughed at their dumbstruck faces. Honestly, you were even shocked that you made, but you couldn’t show them that. “So that’s how you do it. Any questions?” They all shook their heads no. “Okay then, line up,” you said, deciding to keep the stick with you. Though it still seemed foreign to you, you felt more comfortable with it. As the group you had started to get it, you smiled and looked down the ice to find Nate already looking at you. He was at center ice in another group, and when you grabbed the hockey stick a few of the players and coaches stopped to see what you were doing. He didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze, but instead nodded at you with an impressed face. You shrugged and laughed, turning your attention back to your group.
The groups rotated about 30 minutes later, and Nate skated right up to your side. “Look who’s becoming a hockey player,” he teased you quietly. You giggled and elbowed him.
“I told you it wasn’t that hard,” you said, adding “and you owe me two laps.” Nate looked at you unimpressed.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Can’t have people thinking I’m a pushover, right?” you laughed. Nate rolled his eyes, but smiled at you as he took off.
~ ~ ~
The following day you stayed after practice, seeing as the team had Wednesday off. You were in the middle of your billman spin when you caught the outline of a blurred figure every rotation you made. You finished the spin, letting go of your right leg and checking out. Glancing toward the side, you found Nate standing there. He smiled as you skated over to him, shifting his weight from one foot to another slightly. That’s when you realized he had his skates on. “Mind if I join you?” Nate asked. You shook your head and smiled up at him.
“You aren’t mad at me for making you skate laps?” you joked. He chuckled as he stepped out onto the ice.
“Completely. Those two laps were the worst thing I had to do yesterday,” he answered with a wink. You laughed and skated around the perimeter of the rink with him. The two of you spent about two more hours on the ice, talking and doing different things, but always ending up back next to each other. You sat next to Nate on a bench off the ice to take your skates off while continuing your conversation. “So how did you get into skating? In Canada hockey is huge. I can’t imagine it’s the same in Southern California,” Nate asked after he had told you how he started playing hockey, and you smiled.
“So I was actually a dancer when I was younger. My parents put me in ballet when I was about 2 in a half because I was that hyper child that needed something to do,” Nate chuckled at that. “Anyways, I had an older cousin who was taking skating lessons and had her like 10th birthday party at the rink. I was 4 and one of my other older cousins offered to skate with me. And I fell in love the second I stepped onto the ice. I asked my parents after the party if I could start skating and they signed me up for classes. And you should know as of last week with Z that I am a competitive, stubborn little shit of a person so I jumped at the idea of having a coach and competing. And I never looked back. The rink is my happy place, it’s where I feel most myself, and everything that has come along with it is just a perk,” You smiled, drying off your blades and putting your soakers on them.
“Oh yes, an Olympic gold medal is just a perk,” Nate dead panned, but you could see he had a smirk on his face.
“I mean I worked hard for it. But it never felt like work because I love to skate,” you replied simply. Nate smiled softly at you, and you thought you would never get used to the way it made your stomach flutter.
“That is beautiful Coach,” he teased you, and you knocked your shoulder into his arm. He laughed as you barely even moved him, more just bounced off of him. “I’m being serious Y/N. Obviously you are an amazing skater, and we are lucky to have you.” Nate said sincerely. You looked away as you started to blush.
“Well you aren’t so bad yourself mister,” you tried to joke back to cover up how much his words were actually affecting you. Nate chuckled and shook his head.
“I just try my best. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but I try,” he admitted.
“But that’s all you can do, try. And you have a whole team behind you to support you,” you said, feeling that he was just like you; extremely tough on himself. “Plus, from what I’ve seen you’re a pretty good skater,” you smiled as he met your eyes after putting his skates away.
“Only pretty good?” he teased, and you laughed.
“Well there’s always room for improvement,” you said, teasing him back. Nate let out a chuckle and followed you out of the rink, walking with you over to your jeep.
“So, we have tomorrow off…” Nate started, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled and nodded, encouraging him to continue. Nate wanted to just ask you out, but he wasn’t positive where you stood. You were nice to him, but you were nice to everyone. He decided to go with what he had already offered before to be safe. “Do you still need to get a bookshelf?” As he asked, you couldn’t help as your smile became brighter at the thought of hanging out with him away from the rink again.
“I do actually. I was planning on doing that tomorrow,” you hoped you weren’t blushing too much, but Nate could see it and it only gave him more confidence.
“I can come over around noon. We could get some lunch then get your book case,” he suggested, trying to gauge your reaction. You smiled shyly, knowing your blush had to be evident at this point. Nate thought it looked adorable. Here you were, this Olympic gold medalist becoming shy when he was asking you to hang out.
“That would be great, as long as you don’t mind helping me,” you said. Nate beamed at you.
“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and said your goodbyes with the promise of seeing each other tomorrow. You drove home, nervous and excited for being able to hang out with him more one on one.
The next morning you woke up and busied yourself trying to clean up a bit. Not that you were messy, but you needed to move some boxes out of the way to make space for your book shelf. Getting dressed in some simple jeans and a black tank with a long, velvet deep yellow cardigan over it, you were just putting on your converse when Nate showed up at your door. You insisted on driving, sure that you would buy more than just a bookshelf and didn’t want to cram it all into his car. Nate directed you to a cute sandwich shop downtown for lunch, and the two of you talked the whole time about everything and anything. It felt so natural to be around him; the two of got along very well. Both of you being extremely competitive athletes, you also understood each other on a different level. Getting through lunch relatively unnoticed, Nate was amused when you were the one approached for a picture and not him. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked to the young girl and encouraged her to keep working on a jump she said she was having a problem with. After lunch, you and Nate went to Target and picked out a simple bookshelf. You also grabbed a few more things you could not leave the store without and Nate pushed the cart along, teasing you when you couldn’t pass up buying a few new books as well. Traveling from competition to competition always provided reading time, so you figured road trips with the team would provide the same.
Once back at your apartment Nate took over constructing the book shelf while you unloaded your boxes for it. The day carried on with playful banter and you could feel your crush growing even stronger. Nate was feeling the same. It was nice for him to be around someone who didn’t seem to care that he was a professional hockey player. He felt that he could really be himself around you. Between the laughing, lunch, shopping, and setting up, it was 7pm before you even knew it. “Do you want some pizza?” you asked him as you placed a candle on one of the shelves.
“Don’t tell my coaches,” he winked and you laughed.
“Never,” you said, asking him what a good pizza place to order from would be. “I’ll order a veggie one. That will make it a healthy meal.” Nate laughed and offered to pay, but you insisted being that he spent his whole day helping you, plus bought lunch. When the pizza arrived, you made your plates and sat at the table. “Do you ever miss being home with your family?” you asked after he told you all about them.
“I do yeah. I love them and being able to spend time with them. But I’ve made Denver my home also and this team is like family. I’m happy being here with them,” Nate answered sincerely.
“I think it’s really great you guys all have each other. I’ve never been much of a team player so I’ve never experienced that kind of bond,” you admitted.
“You have to have friends through skating though, right?” he asked.
“Yes and no,” you shrugged. Nate gave you a questioning look. “Girls are mean.” Nate broke out laughing. You laughed too and continued. “Once you get to a certain level, like you support one another but if someone your competing against falls you don’t feel bad. And I know that sounds horrible, but when there are only usually 3 spots on the Olympic team every four years, and the competitive span of a female figure skater is only like six years at senior level depending on how fast you learn, it’s a super competitive atmosphere. You tend to become better friends with people you won’t compete against. So like for me, my best friend is Jeremy Abbott. He’s kind of like an older brother to me. And I’m close to a few ice dancers. But any female single skater friend either tends to have gone through the ranks before you, or you start mentoring someone younger as they hop onto the circuit and you phase out. I think I’m better friends with girls I have competed against now that none of us are competing anymore. That’s just kind of how it goes,” you tried your best not to make it sound like you were a horrible person. Nate nodded thoughtfully, then grinned at you.
“Does this mean you have an arch enemy that we all have to look out for?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his question.
“Unfortunately, kind of. Playing the Stars should be interesting this year.”
“Playing the Stars is interesting every year,” Nate muttered. “Who is it?” he asked curiously.
“Don’t say anything ok. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t be talking bad about another skater in this program,” you pleaded. “Plus the press already thinks we don’t like each other. I don’t need to be the one to add fire to that flame.”
“Yeah I’d rather not talk to the press so your secret is safe with me Y/N,” Nate said, leaning in closer as to convey confidence.
“Her name is Ashley Wagner. She was annoyed that in my first competition I bet her and knocked her off the podium completely. And every competition since I had beat her,” you explained and Nate nodded along. “Also, if you meet her, don’t let her fool you. She seems nice, but she’s not that great. She purposefully tripped me during warm ups once. That’s when all the rumors started flying around.” Nate looked at you surprised.
“You didn’t do anything back to her?”
“No,” you laughed lightly. “That’s not what you do in my sport. I kept smiling and brushed it off best I could.”
“Alright. So we’ll have to protect you around her. You’re too nice,” Nate grinned at you. You smiled back and cleared both of your plates as you had finished eating.
“Shut up. She’s a coach too. It should be fine…I hope.” Nate shrugged at your reply, taking a seat on the coach and making himself comfortable.
“I don’t know. Hockey might just bring out the worst in both of you.”
“Gee, thanks Nate. Glad to know you’d have my back if it came to blows,” you plopped down next to him. Not too close, but close enough the you could knock your knee into his. Curling your feet up on the couch, you both smiled lazily at each other.
“Don’t worry Coach, I’ll be your back up. Tyson will probably be your hype-man,” Nate teased, reaching to shove your shoulder slightly. When his hand came down though, it rested slightly touching yours, and neither of you moved.
“Sounds about right,” you tried to laugh your nerves off. Nate decided to take a leap, and placed his hand over yours. He smiled when he felt you intertwine your fingers with his. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute. Nate was about to speak when your phone started to ring, ruining the moment.
“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at your phone and seeing that it was Jeremy calling. You denied the call, but your screen just lit up again. “Speak of the devil. I can call him back later. I’m sure it’s not important.”
“It’s fine. It’s getting late, and we have practice tomorrow so I should probably go,” Nate said, letting go of your hand and standing up. You were going to kill Jeremy.
“Well thank you for coming over and helping me,” you said as you walked Nate over to the door.
“Anytime,” Nate responded, stopping just outside and turning back to you. “We should do it again sometime.”
“Put together a book shelf?” you raised your eyebrow, hoping you weren’t over analyzing the moment the two of you just had. Nate chuckled and reached out for your hand again.
“No. Lunch, dinner, this,” he squeezed your hand for emphasis. You blushed and nodded. “A book shelf if you really need another one,” Nate added, making you giggle.
“That would be nice,” you responded. Nate grinned at you, and with one more squeeze of your hand he dropped it.
“See you tomorrow Y/N,” he said, backing away from you.
“Get home safely Nate,” you said, smiling at him till he turned around and walked down the hallway. You shut the door and locked up, walking back to the couch and the now 6 missed calls from your best friend. You called him back with a sigh. You didn’t give Jeremy a second to talk when he answered. “You better be dying to have called me this many times.”
“Calm down, I just wanted to talk to you. Why weren’t you answering?” he laughed.
“Nate was over. I think we were having a moment and you ruined it,” you complained.
“Shit…sorry!” Jeremy responded. There was a pause, then he spoke again with excitement. “Now tell me all about it.” You laughed and launched into the story about your day, all the meanwhile looking forward for the season to begin, and to be able to see where things were headed with Nate.
tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria
#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl x reader#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#nathan mackinnon imagine#nathan mackinnon x reader#nate mackinnon imagine#nate mackinnon x reader#Cutting Edge
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
Captain America: The First Avenger pt. 2
First off, spoilers if you’ve never seen the movies and you want to. And, english IS NOT my first language, so excuse me if I make mistakes.
Y’all, this specific scene reminds me of that scene where Elastigirl is trapped in all those doors and she kicks the guys’ asses. Like, tell me you saw Steve hitting this guy’s head with the door and your mind didn’t immediately take you to Elastigirl. Or was it only me? Just me? Ok, let’s keep on going.
Nvm, I found out why it reminds me so much of that scene. They’re dressed the same way!
Can we acknowledge how awkward Steve’s interaction with the imprisoned soldiers is? Who told him it was a good idea to say “I’m Captain America” to these people? Although fair, he did get them out rather quickly and he is technically Captain America, but I don’t know, it’s weird. Steeb, you liar, you haven’t knocked Hitler out at all.
I love Steve’s loyalty to Bucky. It gets annoying in the next movies, but in this movie it just shows me how alone Steve was and how important Bucky was to him, because when you have very little people who care for you, your instincts will always be to protect them.
I love the soldiers just wrecking havoc outside. It’s a fun scene seeing them fight back and use HYDRA’s weapons. How much property do you think they destroyed? Because I keep on wondering, did this act of rebellion from Steeb help turn the tide just a little bit?
There is a similarity between Red Skull and future Steve, and that is that, when they believe there is something more important than anything else, they are willing to sacrifice everyone and everything else for that. In this case, Schmidt was ready to destroy the entire base when he realized he was not going to win, just to save the studies, and future Steve was ready to endanger thousands of people to end HYDRA (CATWS), and to save Bucky (CACW).
I feel sad for Bucky. He was tortured back in the 40s, then for 70 years, and then he died and came back to life, how does one survive that? He is one strong man, but I just, his entire life saddens me.
I wonder what Bucky thought after he heard Red Skull call Steve Captain America. I would find it hilarious, even in that situation, but that’s just my weird ass talking. Why did Schmidt think he was Erskine’s greatest success when he looks red and Steve looks like this:
America, explain.
Another note to self: Schmidt is a bitch, but I love his car and I would go back in time to the 40s to steal it.
Bucky is so brave, though. He was tortured, experimented on, completely weak, and still, he put on a brave face and crossed that thing (I have no idea what they’re called) at a steady face, knowing that it could have fallen way before it did. Thanks to the Russo’s I had forgotten how much I loved Bucky Barnes. He is a great character.
Let’s talk about how pure of heart, dumb of ass Steve is. He had no idea he was gonna survive his little stunt jump, yet he did it with little hesitation because “I have to get my friend out of here”. Pure of heart, dumb of ass.
I can’t begin to imagine Peggy’s pain when she heard Phillips say that Steve was dead. Especially because if he was dead it would most definitely mean she would have no protection against whatever punishment Phillips saw fit for her actions. And yet she just won’t back down, because she knew she did the right thing.
The scene where Steve gets back with the 107th is such a great scene, because it shows exactly what Steve is made of. He has a strong mindset, he will fight for what he believes in, and he would do anything for others. It’s a powerful scene.
I wonder if Steve unconsciously wanted the praise he got at that moment. He was the small guy his entire life, the one who was beat and punched on a daily basis, and for once in his life he was being praised for something he thought he deserved. I think that deep down this is exactly what he wanted: recognition.
I wonder if Bucky’s face when Steve stopped looking at him was because he thought he lost his friend, because he was jealous, or because he thought he wasn’t needed anymore. Bucky and Steve grew up together, and when you see a friend you’ve always helped become something better when you’re not with them, I think that can seriously mess you up, especially if you feel like they don’t need you anymore, because, after all, they thrived after you left. I don’t believe he was that jealous, though. Yeah, he used to be the strong guy girls would look at, and now he wasn’t, but I’m inclined to believe it’s my third option. He was so used to going around saving Steve from his death wish (that’s what I call it, because I’m still surprised he survived all those years getting punched), that now he sees Steve save him and save everyone else, and he knows that, were Steve asked to go alone to a fight, he would not be able to do anything.
Steeb, you lil’ bitch, I know you don’t like cameras and stages, but that’s a medal of valour, I think it’s very important.
Can we talk about how hot Steve Rogers looks with his army suit? Because he does. Also, as I’ve said before, he ain’t dumb, so, if everything got enhaced with the serum, he must definitely had his intelligence amplified, and I like to believe that he has photographic memory, that’s why he could remember the map he saw when he saved Bucky.
I’m sorry, but what the fuck Steve? Who gave you permission to look like this?
(You’re welcome)
I like his team. Steve was always a good leader (I’m not even gonna touch CACW), he knew who to trust and who to take with him. Besides, like I said before, he is a great strategist. I think that’s what makes him such a great leader.
I guess I get why y’all ship Stucky. I don’t ship them, I love their friendship (once again, I’m not even gonna touch CACW with a ten miles pole), and I think they’re sweet, so I guess I can understand the ship.
Peggy Carter in a red dress is all I never knew I needed. She looks like a queen that will definitely punch you in the face if you deserve it.
I love the bar scene. The music is lovely, Bucky’s awkwardness is hilarious, Steeb and Peggy flirting is sweet as heck, and Bucky’s “I’m invisible. I’m turning into you, it’s like a horrible dream” it’s the perfect dialogue.
Okay, how did Howard get all of that glass on his face and didn’t get more than one single cut? Is he stronger than he looks or is it just movie magic? I guess we’ll never know.
Awkward Steeb is lovely as heck. But I don’t like the blonde. I guess it’s because I am not a fan of stolen kisses, I feel they would make someone uncomfortable.
Note to self: finally, a movie in sepia tones that isn’t situated in Mexico!
Coming back to the movie: the whole scene with the blonde woman is so freaking awkward. It was totally unnecessary. Like yeah, I get it was to show a jealous Peggy, but ugh, I hate it. Steeb looks son out of his element, it gives me that je ne sais quoi.
Note to self, again: if I ever want to date a woman, make sure not to talk to them the way Steeb did when talking about Peggy and Stark. Steeb, you idiot.
Gotta go back on track.
Stark said
The scene where Peggy shoots Steve’s shield used to make me laugh so hard when I was younger. Now it makes me irrationally angry. Peggy more so than anyone should know that bullets ricochet, she was lucky she that the bullets didn’t hit someone else after hitting the shield and just fell to the floor.
Three things about the different scenes after this last one, the one where Steve and the Howling Commandos raid all HYDRA and Nazi bases they can: Steve looks so cool on his suit, I love Red Skull’s car, and the Howling Commandos are amazing.
This is still sweet:
Bucky Barnes with a rifle could kill me any day, thank you. Also, I love this scene, it’s such an emblematic CA scene:
Oh oh, the train scene’s coming up next. What do I do now? Do I watch it, do I cry, do I suffer in silence (evidently no)? I was not prepared for this. I regret all my decisions up till this moment.
I’m never gonna get tired of saying that Steve is an amazing strategist. Just so y’all know, if it was me over the train, I would’ve already fallen to my inevitable death. Is it already clear enough that I love James Barnes more than I probably should? No? Then excuse me while I scream into the void aout how much I love this man. Also, him with short hair? 100/10 would recommend again.
I love how battered (I think I used the right word) Steve’s shield is. It’s a representation of his battles and it’s, I don’t know, it’s calling me. I guess I love when something shows everything they’ve gone through.
Ahhhhhh, THAT part is coming and I’m not ready!!!!! James Barnes, if you read this, I love you. It’s a painful scene to watch, if I’m being honest. Steve loves this man, in my opinion, as a brother, and seeing him at death’s door, you can see the pain on their expressions, one knows they’re gonna die, and the other one knows they’re gonna lose their brother. I don’t think I’d be the same person if that happened to me. And Steve’s cries, bitch, my heart.
That killed me, sorry.
I still admire Zola’s intelligence, and his sneakiness with the whole SHIELDRA thing. Like, I hate that bitch and I hope he died a very painful death, but he is a great character and I enjoy his scenes.
Who eats steak with milk? I just wanna know, find me behind the Denny’s.
I like the whole Zola and phillips scene, it makes sense, because of course he’d want to live. But tell me how you look at someone in the eyes and expect them to believe some bullshit about gods and infinite power? At least Phillip took the whole “his goal is everything” comment, because I sure as hell wouldn’t’ve.
Red Skull’s little speech about the Valkyrie is okay, I guess, but he mentions something that reminded me strongly of CATWS. He said “If they shoot down one plane, hundreds more will rain fire upon them.” I’m just thinking about the Helicarriers that were supposed to just, ya know, kill everyone that posed a threat to HYDRA. I think it’s a good parallel.
Note to self, again: I’m not gonna get tired of asking who was the idiot who decided to name this division HYDRA, made their slogan “if they cut off one head, two more shall take its place” then had their logo be an octopus without two extremities. Who do I have to fight?
I love the scene where everyone is screaming Hail HYDRA, because it shows you that, like Steve, Schmidt has presence, and a powerful voice, and he knows how to make people share his ideals. I enjoy it very much.
I feel sorry for Steve. I, listening to him talk to Peggy when he clearly has been crying, telling her that he cannot get drunk, which means that he’s tried it already, it’s a painful scene to watch. Chris Evans is such an amazing actor. He can emulate feelings so easily. Seeing him cry and suffer, God, it pains my heart. I honestly didn’t remember this scene, and to watch it without warning, well, it made me sadder than Bucky’s actual death.
“I’m not gonna stop until ol of HYDRA is dead or captured.” Brings a new light to CATWS for me, what about you?
I will leave it here, mostly because this shit is getting longer than I expected it to be. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did. See you tomorrow.
#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#captain america#CATFA#steve rogers#the first avenger#character analysis#peggy carter#bucky barnes#i honestly thank you if you got here#love y'all#hope you enjoy this
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
spill the yoi hot takes :o
I’m really flattered with the amount of asks (I hope you won't mind that I combined at least 5, it's just easier this way), interested in my yoi opinions, I wasn’t planning to get into that honestly, until I mentioned it to my friend Alex (I’ve mentioned him here before without a name tho, he’s gay, he’s very into anime, he was also the one behind that 4am text “but how do u think Rin’s teeth feel on Haru’s dick” lol).
I just didn't want to rewatch it, as I've said before, but something he said got me very intrigued and last week ended up with me staying until 7am for a virtual watch party that got pretty hilarious, but not for the yoi reasons lol.
So just know that to be completely fair we did it and I'm saying everything below with a very fresh impression, which hasn't changed really bc like I'm 25, I was watching it the first time when I was 21, not 14 xD. I think it got worse actually.
Once again, I know that since they’re both gay sports animes comparisons are inevitable, but to me one has nothing to do with the other and no matter the fact that I adore Free! and don’t like YOI, I don’t want to throw words like smth is “superior” out there, bc I don’t want to be like those YOI fans back in the days, who thought that none other gay ships should exist after this (unless they say smth specifically for me to counterattack, then I can say whatever lol).
Like if you love stories like this, it’s okay. Like what you like. But to yell at everybody that they must think that this is how relationships should be and trash every other gay ship in existence, you maybe should not, especially when you don’t really have much to be proud of. Just like kisses don’t make a love story high-quality, full censorship doesn’t take away a good love story.
"Heaven official’s blessing” is also censored, but no matter how much you censor it, their love for each other is seen in their actions so clear, that it is in fact will not take anything away from the power of their feelings and the greatness of their love story if at the end they won’t show them kissing. Just like if I kiss a random stranger on the street, it won’t make us the best couple in the world.
Now I went into watching YOI unbiased the 1st time I watched it (I did watch it after Free, bc it was in “recommended”). I did not expect it to be “like Free”, I just wanted smth that’ll give me the same kind of emotion, investment in the story, ship, etc. It didn’t, so I just moved on.
I didn’t even think deep about why. I thought I just grew out of the “Cinderella” stories a long time ago or as it was here not very gracefully called “how to turn the pig into the prince”.
Like if you want the “she’s all that” but with the boy instead of a girl, you’ll probably enjoy YOI. But once again, love stories I enjoy are the opposite of those. It's really nothing bad, if you enjoy the stuff like “Someday my prince will come” in whatever age tbh, but I since a certain age just wasn’t invested in those anymore and began to obsess with stories like “Anastasia” instead, and I’m talking about love stories with less naivety in between and feelings out of nowhere, but more stuff like “yes, bitch, I find you attractive, true, but whether I fall for you unconditionally or not, only real life situations will tell later on”.
And I don’t mean stuff like going through war together or some epic journey, but grown ups must know those. Those life situations or even tiny things someone do, that make you not only fall for someone, but think “yeah, I can imagine my life with you”.
Like in my humble opinion, you can’t fall in love with someone bc of the way they swim or skate, for example. What ppl call “love at first sight” is in fact “attraction at first sight”. So yes, we do joke about Rin falling in love at first sight, bc he did in fact walked into the hall, saw Haru and was like “dat bitch is so fine”, even tho he was just standing there, but once again, he was just attracted to him. What happens after this is you can go on a whole beautiful journey with tiny Rin putting together the prettiest puzzle of why he falls for Nanase Haruka. In such little things like when Haru slowed down when he saw Nagisa feeling bad during running and Rin was like “omg you’re so uwu”, how he mentions that he always helps ppl, but never asks for help himself, he slowly gradually paints a picture of what kind of person Haru is, same goes for Haru about Rin. And then you have a whole story of them falling for each other all over again when they’re already adults, and you again watch it through their eyes, and once again I’m not in fact talking about some grand gestures like 1x12, I’m talking about stuff like them focusing on Haru’s eyes shaking, when he saw that Rin secretly helps Rei to learn how to swim. It’s the little things, that you watch and you get why they feel what they feel for each other. And that also makes you fall in love more with their characters by seeing how the other sees them.
YOI doesn’t have those moments. Not only they weren’t in any situations that would make them know each other for who they really are, they hardly even know the basic info about one another. Hell, the viewer doesn’t know anything about them. And this is why to me it goes into the category of those typical romcoms I can’t get invested in.
So I don’t think these two can be compared. And while some yell “bc you’re not canon, but yoi is canon”, I think they can’t be compared for another reason. Bc some ppl are trying to prove to me that a 27 years old man fell head over heels in love with someone overnight during a drunk banquet, then watched a vid of him skating and flew to another country and hey “if you win a gold medal, lets get married”. This is not the kind of relationship progression I’m looking for like at all. Between that time he started training him and their “censored kiss” there was nothing and I mean nothing that’d made me go “yeah, I see why he loves him”.
But anyways, lets live piecefully really, you can like one, you can like both, it’s all okay.
Like I know many have ptsd and it’s true that back when YOI was popular, most of their fans for real did annoy to death almost everyone, bc they yelled that No.6 is trash, when someone said “but you’re not the only one gay story that’s not based on sex”. They yelled that Free! has no right to exist bc its queerbating (LOL). By that time, I’m not gonna lie I was ready to poke my eyes out each time I saw smth YOI related, bc it was like: you make a multigay shipping vid - “how dare u not include YOI”, you make a gifset - “you forgot YOI” like I HAD TO like it just bc it’s gay. There is no such rule to me. Just like I don’t care for some hetero romances, I don’t care for some gay romances. Simple is that. Once again gay has nothing to do with the relationships dynamic and the story.
Yeah, comments about fanservice. Like why should I watch Victor’s naked ass for several minutes every episode, but don’t get to see Haru or Rin’s at least once? So salty rn.
Free is more fanservice-y.. well, it’s hella fanservicy, yes, but like we can’t swim in shirts, you can tho not show naked ass in each episode, I thought you were skating.
See, it’s all debatable.
But I do wish ppl stop putting yoi relationships on a piedestal, their relationship are waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too far from being inspirational for many and not even close to the what love is in my opinion. If you seek smth of a very high standart of gay love, choose MDZS for example, idk. But don’t throw YOI at ppls faces as a “this is how should be”. Not everyone wants that.
I don’t need a half-assed engagement and esp the censored kiss (like either do it or don’t do it at all honestly). Also stuff like this should carry weight. I don’t want things for the sake of things.
Like to me Rin’s “the only thing that hasn’t changed in my life is how I feel about you” speech, considering the fact that he felt like that throughout all those years, means hella more, than this.
I think 1stly, it’s because of the “it’s like it was a destiny xD” factor and 2ndly, bc at least this scene gives a little more sense to the fact that he flew to another country to train him. Now it’s if “I fell MADLY in love in one drunk night and was pining my whole life after that and that vid was a sign for me to go see you again” makes any sense to you. At least that’s how some fans read it.
Once again it might be a good thing for a passable one-time romantic comedy. But plots and pairings like this is what made me turn to anime in the first place, so.. sorry lol.
All this mega tragic posts of “Victor was soooo in love for such long time, it’s so sad” made me laugh so hard. Like he feel in love so hard during a one drunk banquet with a guy who was so drunk he didn’t remember anything he did? WHY? HOW? what could he possibly do to make him fall that hard, no one knows. Like to me the only reason u can fall for someone in one night is if you saw him risking his life saving a kitten or a puppy from a car or smth.
I’m just not the kind of person who thinks you can fall for someone for no reasons. Again, you can find someone attractive and go from there, but there must be things along the way that will make me believe in the progression of it. It can of course all come in the future, but the story was what the story was. Whatever you are trying to add to it is already a fanfiction.
YOI is not boring per se, bc everything goes way too fast and sometimes with no reasoning, so I was more surprised that “this was it?” lmao. But their relationships are dull, yes. Bc there is nothing to even discuss really, you can only assume things, bc the whole thing didn’t give u much, esp in the characters department. It’s just really funny to me that someone would write a whole post of “I love this character bc I presume he’s like that”, usually it’s “I love this character bc facts, facts, facts”.
______
Now back to the beginning of my post and to the funny story that happened. We were randomly discussing shit, when I mentioned about possibly rewatching YOI, bc I didn’t want to start talking about smth in case I forgot some stuff (I didn’t btw lol) and turned out that he freaking disliked it a lot. I never even asked, for some reason, and we’ve been yelling about Free! and other stuff for ages and like his boyfriend is in love with Sousuke and they both adore rinharu to death.
And he has lots of gay friends who love Free (this made me happy the most, btw during our YOI chat I asked and it was 4:1 harurin:rinharu haha I win) and some ships from Haikyuu too, but turns out that literally none of them were into YOI. And the funniest thing he said was “bc it felt more heterosexual than some heterosexual stories I’ve watched”. Now I don’t know if it would make sense to anyone else out there, but I kinda did get what he meant.
I asked if it was bc of the ��fairytale setting” and the fact that no one cared that they’re gay (bc “in front of the stadium?!” was the reaction, when I told them “there was a cencored kiss here” (btw not everyone got it lolz) and then “did they just write the story with a girl, but then changed it by the end?”), but they said “no, just the overall feeling”.
And like everyone knows that YOI targeted audience is hetero girls. It wasn’t made for the sake of the LGBT community and none of the homophobic ppl will watch it either, no matter what some think. So for whom they did it the way they did it is very questionable tbh. They say it’s the LGBT representation in anime, and yes, good, great, always happy about, but isn’t it kinda funny that some of LGBT representatives don’t even feel like it apparently.
Now I’m just saying some, I’ve asked him to ask around out of curiousity, and it was only 11 gay guys in total, who watched it, including our company and his bf who was forced into it haha, but 11 is quite a lot, considering the fact that not even 1 liked it. But then somehow stuff like MDZS and even uncanonical mikayuu was highly appreciated and loved, bc it accidentally made a dent in some extra conservative parents and dull ppl.
It’s just much more interesting to hear what guys who are actually dating guys think about all those kind of animes and ships, than some girls here who yell at me stuff like “why are you supporting queerbating”. Btw I asked Alex if he’s offended by that, he said “no, but we for real think they’re doing it” lmao.
It is supposed to be funny. You didn’t get it wrong. But if you saw many ppl would aggressively disagree with you. I just thought that “analysis” was an “interpretive process that draws conclusions from a set of facts”, not “writing a fanfiction based on assumptions”, but then again to each their own.
The problem is that I don’t even get what’s cute about it, it’s just absurd to me. Like it’s pulled out of an ass, for real. They’re not in the stage of a relationships, when I would find such thing romantic. And all the agressive denying of the fact that it was indeed wedding rings made this scene cringy, too. The whole thing is cringy to me idk. The “win the gold, only then we’ll get married”.... It all gave me a weird feeling. The opposite of “touching”.
So in conclusion, when you skip most of the important parts of the love story and jump into stuff just for the sake of it, then also make fun of it, it leaves a hella weird impression and aparently not just to me.
And once again trying to market some primitive story as an epic love story, just bc it’s gay is extremely weird to me. If you make 50 shades of grey gay, it’s not gonna suddenly become a pulitzer prize winning kind of book, it’ll stay the same dumb af story with dumb af characters, but gay.
So being happy about some representation (and btw they still managed to add stuff like “its not gay if you exchange rings with your hommies” here and there and make it “hahahaha joking”), I get it, but to say that this what all the gay ships should aim for, pls stop. We really don’t wanna. Sincerelly.
We here stick to a motto “I can picture the kiss of the characters whose story is so amazing, that the kiss is the only thing missing, but if I basically have just a picture of two guys kissing, I won’t write a whole story myself.”
P.S. I will forever laugh now tho at the fact that calling your bf a “pig” and being an arogant asshole without any canonically established reasonings is a great relationships, but Adam with his past gets what he gets now for the “dog” comments even tho his bf enjoys it lmao like I did not remember this bits in YOI. I honestly thought it was like completely “unproblematic” one, but it’s like hilariously not. So what ppl are trying to even put out their as a “pinnacle of the lgbt representation” as you say, like there are for real older yaois that are much better than this.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shining Just the Way I Like, Part Two (Rosnali) - Athena2
Summary: Denali and Rosé have their first date.
A/N: Back by somewhat popular demand! Thank you to @artificialpuddle for suggesting adding a second part with a roller-skating date! I hadn’t planned on a second part, but I loved the idea and my motivation cooperated, so here it is. Also, thank you to everyone for the amazing feedback on this! I really hope you enjoy, and I’d appreciate any thoughts you have! I should also have a new Branjie oneshot out soon!
Royale’s Roller Disco has enough lights to be seen from outer space, from the bright neon orange sign to the white lights on the roof to the green LEDs framing the door. The inside is no less colorful, with a rainbow wall of rental skates behind the main counter and disco lights swirling over the scuffed rink floor, currently packed with people.
“So this is a roller disco,” Rosé says as they enter the line to rent skates, head tilting around to take it all in. Denali has to take it all in too–she still can’t believe she’s on a date with someone as pretty and funny and kind as Rosé.
“Yep.” Denali’s been coming here since she was a teenager, usually for extra practice, but a lot of times for fun, and her eyes fly to the scratched wooden tables by the snack bar, where she and Kahmora split countless baskets of greasy fries and practiced flirting techniques. “It’s probably not as glamorous as you thought.”
“I like it,” Rosé says. “And I’m glad I gave in to Jan’s lecture on the power of jeans and a nice top and wore that instead of a dress.”
Denali snorts. The jeans in question curve beautifully up Rosé’s legs, her sparkly purple shirt twinkling under the lights. “Jan’s right, because you look amazing.”
“So do you.”
Denali just shrugs, like she didn’t need an hour and two FaceTime calls to Kahmora to put together her black jeans and silky pink shirt.
They reach the front of the line, and Rosé acts like the bored teenager behind the counter has given her a bomb, gingerly holding the beat-up maroon skates like they might explode any second.
“So, I have a confession.”
“Okay …” Denali holds back her smirk, waiting for Rosé to admit what Denali figured out the minute they walked in here, from how Rosé’s confident smile has become lip-biting to how she’s still holding her skates even though Denali’s are already on.
“I know how much you love skating, and I think this’ll be fun and everything, but, well, I’ve never skated in my life.”
Denali can’t hide her smile, or the flutter in her heart at Rosé willing to do this just for her. “So you thought doing something you’ve never done on a first date was a good idea?”
“Don’t judge! And I am naturally talented, you know,” she adds, patting her chest proudly, glowing with confidence. “I’ll probably pick it up fast. Plus I figured you could help, since you’re a professional and all.”
Denali melts at Rosé’s warm smile, and she can’t wait to get her out on the rink, guiding her like Denali’s coaches did for her.
“Of course I’ll help. I am a professional, after all.”
Rosé holds out her hand, and Denali thinks of them drinking milkshakes in the car, how Rosé’s hand was constantly near hers, like she was hesitant to reach out and hold hands but wanted to be close just the same. That hand is fully offered to Denali now, and she wonders if Rosé planned this solely so they could hold hands. But there’s no place for overthinking under the disco lights, and she does what she’s wanted to since they met, and slides her hand into Rosé’s. It’s soft and warm and she never wants to let go.
—
“Are skates supposed to be this tight? I feel like my feet are in cement. It’s worse than the time Lagoona got me so drunk I tried to walk around with my shoes on backwards.”
Denali smiles. “You’ll get used to them, I promise.”
Rosé nods. “I’m ready.” She takes Denali’s hand once more, taking slow half-glides, half-steps over to the skating rink. She’s excited, bouncing in her skates, and it tugs at Denali’s heart that she’s so ready to do this, make sure they both have a good time.
“We’re gonna start slow, okay?” Denali remembers her first time going on the ice, her new skates tight and stiff on her feet, so ready to skate fast and do jumps like the older kids that she took off and fell to her knees a second later, popping right back up and doing it again. And again, and again, until she could glide over the ice as easy as walking.
“Okay.”
They’re at the edge of the carpet now, and Denali takes a breath before pulling them both onto the floor, joining the mass of adults and kids laughing and whipping around. Most of the skilled skaters gather in the middle, twirling and dancing under the disco ball. As much as Denali wants to show off under there, she’s here with Rosé, and Rosé comes first.
“Denali, I’m doing it! I’m skating!” Rosé is letting out that adorable laugh beside her, one arm linked around Denali’s and the other outstretched for balance.
“You’re doing it, baby.” It slips out before Denali can stop it, and even if she half-hopes it got swallowed up by the ABBA blasting through the speakers, part of it feels right, so right, and she likes when Rosé gives a smile and silent nod of approval for the pet name.
They make a slow lap around the edge, close to the wall just in case, smiling and laughing the whole time. It’s nice to watch Rosé grow more confident, her grip on Denali’s arm loosening slightly. Nice to know Denali has really helped her skate and have fun doing it.
“Think we can go in toward the middle?” Denali asks.
“Hell yeah! Let’s do it! I’m basically a pro now,” Rosé says happily.
Denali laughs as they join the crowd, light bouncing off everyone’s faces, making Rosé’s smile even more brilliant, bright enough to blind the whole rink. Jumps and flips aren’t really possible here, but Denali still itches to twirl and spin at least.
“Go on,” Rosé says.
“What?”
Rosé just smiles. “Do your skating thing. I want to see.”
“You sure you’ll be okay?”
“I just have to stand here, Nali. Even I can do that.”
Denali snorts, heart skipping a beat at the nickname. Rosé nods, and Denali lets go of her hand, spinning around under the disco lights. She knows people are watching her in awe, but she doesn’t notice; she’s in the zone she gets in on the ice, when it’s just her and the ice and her movements, everything smooth and natural. No people, no pressure, no need for perfection. Nothing touches her when she gets like this, and she has no idea how much time has passed when she finally comes to a stop, ignoring the cheers to spring back to Rosé’s side.
“Showoff,” Rosé mumbles, but she’s too impressed and excited to mean it.
“You asked to see it.”
“I did. And you were amazing. Seriously.”
“Thanks.” Denali’s face is burning in a way that has nothing to do with the bright lights or spins she just did. She’s gotten used to compliments and attention, but somehow a comment from Rosé feels like the first one she’s ever gotten. Somehow it means more to her than any others. She takes Rosé’s hand again. “Wanna go a little faster? We can slow down if it gets too much. But I won’t let you fall, okay? Promise.”
“Okay.” Rosé’s face is so trusting that she’d probably let Denali toss her in the air, knowing she would be there to catch her. And despite only knowing Rosé a short while, Denali thinks she always will be there to catch her.
—-
Denali leads Rosé over to the table she always sat at, the plastic chair familiar beneath her. They let their hands meet in the basket of fries, and Denali likes all the touching. She’s always liked touch. Liked the gloved hands of her skating coach nearby in case she needed them, the gentle weight of Kahmora’s arm slung around her shoulder. Touch with Rosé is different, each brushing of their fingers soft and special.
Rosé chews a fry and looks at Denali. “So, I feel like I did all the talking last time. Now don’t get me wrong, I love to talk,” Rosé says cheerfully, “But I want to hear about you.”
And Denali lets herself come tumbling out. How she was sixteen years old, the best skater in the state, medals made more of pressure and expectations than gold heaped on her. How she had her sights on the Olympics, but just wasn’t good enough to get the qualifying scores, and almost gave it up for good when she was 21, before coming back. How she still skates almost every day and competes in state competitions, but is thinking of giving into the skating rink owner’s offer of teaching kids part-time.
“I think you’d be an amazing teacher,” Rosé says. “You were great with me, you know? And you really love what you do.”
“Yeah.” Denali sighs. “For a while I was so focused on competing that I didn’t love it anymore. Didn’t want to do it if I wasn’t gonna be the best, or win awards for it.” It’s why she had almost quit after failing to make the Olympics. What was the point in doing it all when she would never be better than her own state? When she couldn’t win gold at the biggest competition in the world?
Rosé’s face gazes at her with nothing but kindness.“I think it’s okay to do something just out of love,” she says softly. “I mean, I want to be a great singer. And I am. But I love it too, and that’s what made me want to do it in the first place.”
“You’re right,” Denali says firmly.
“I know.” Rosé smirks, and Denali throws a napkin at her.
They walk out hand-in-hand again, and only after Denali is settled in the passenger seat of Rosé’s car does she ask.
“So, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“Did you plan this whole date as an excuse to hold my hand?”
A smile tugs at Rosé’s soft pink lips, one she tries to stop but fails. “It might have been … part of the decision,” she admits sheepishly. “Is that bad?”
“No,” Denali says instantly. “I wanted to hold your hand anyway. I probably would have offered if you didn’t.”
Rosé snorts.
Denali takes a breath. “There’s something else I want to do too.” She turns to her side in the seat, inching closer over the armrest, until she’s close enough to see every line of Rosé’s smooth lips.
They lean into each other at the same time, and the kiss tastes faintly of french fries but there’s a lot worse things it could taste like–Denali’s first kiss burned with the sting of locker room sweat. This kiss is infinitely better, and Denali wants to remember it forever. Rosé’s left hand resting on her hip, the other cupping the side of her face. How Denali’s own hands roam up Rosé’s sides. The warmth buzzing from Denali’s toes all the way to her forehead, which is pressed gently against Rosé’s.
She pulls away finally, relieved to see that Rosé’s grin is just as wide and her cheeks are just as flushed as Denali’s.
“That was–”
“Yeah,” Denali finishes. “Tonight was–it was everything.”
Rosé smiles. “It was.”
“Let’s do it again.”
“Deal.” Rosé’s eyebrow raises in mischief “I want a chance to show off next time though.”
“You got it.” And Denali goes back in for another kiss, knowing that there will be more of them to come.
#rpdr fanfiction#denali foxx#rosé#rosnali#lesbian au#fluff#s13#shining just the way I like#athena2#concrit welcome#submission
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
25 Days of MTMTE Christmas, Part 15, Star
You have a bad day, but Rodimus knows how to fix it.
Your phone vibrated gently against your hip. Arching your brow in confusion, you slipped your phone out of your pocket, being careful to not disrupt Ultra Magnus. He had nothing against you using your phone for work purposes, as he often sent messages to your phone, seeing as you didn’t have a com-link built into your organic head. But this message couldn’t be from him, as he disapproved of distractions during official business. While Ultra Magnus listed the pros and cons of some new ration types, you unlocked your phone with your fingerprint, and covertly looked down to read the message. ’Hey sexy~ How about you and me ditch this funeral and take it to my place?’ You couldn’t be any more unimpressed. With a straight face, you turned to look at Rodimus on the other side of the table. He grinned, knowing that you had read his message. Then he gave you quick finger guns. You frowned, and shook your head at him. You had to focus on the meeting. You were not in the mood to play around. Rodimus straight-up pouted like you had insulted his creator.
Your phone vibrated again. You noticed Megatron eyeing you from the edge of your vision, and you lifted your chin towards Rodimus. Megatron understood your gesture, and turned his attention back to Ultra Magnus while you checked Rodimus’ new message. ’Why the cold shoulder? I could warm you up real nice!’ You ground your teeth together, tapping the screen maybe a little too hard to quickly write him a message. ’What, you want to move this funeral to your room, and get it on with a carcass?’ You thought your reply was smart with a pinch of healthy self-loathing in it, but the pout you got from Rodimus said that he didn’t find your humor that funny. He sent you a new message. ’No, I wanna get it on with my hot human who is alive and well.’ You replied to him immediately with a witty comeback. ’They sound sweet. Do I know them?’ You could almost see the wheels turning and bolts popping in Rodimus’ head by the frustrated look on his face. You sighed, and put the phone away before you could get caught. It might keep vibrating with notifications, but you had decided to ignore all messages from now on. You would remain strong. When the meeting ended, you didn't stick around for further conversation. You shut down your phone without checking your messages. You quickly left the meeting room, and went straight to your habsuite. Once there, you fell face-first onto your bed. You just wanted to stay inside your suite and never leave it again. You could do it - you had everything here required to live. Suddenly, there was a ringing sound, and you lifted your face from your bed. Someone was at your suite’s door. You wanted to ignore the ringing, but it kept going on and on...! You jumped off of your bed, and went to open the door. Who else was behind the door but your captain. Rodimus smiled and waved at you. "Hi! Can I come in?" You stared at him with a blank expression, but you stepped aside as a silent invitation, and Rodimus entered your room. You shut the door behind him, so it was just you and him. You turned to look at him and were about to say something, but he beat you to it. "Is everything alright?" Rodimus asked. You blinked. "Yeah, why do you ask?" "Well, you haven't been yourself recently. Usually, you sass back at me good-naturedly, but now you have been acting as if you are stuck in a Halloween phase." "Rodimus, I-!" You quickly shut your mouth before you could say anything that you didn't mean. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to the best of your abilities. You groaned and rubbed your eyes in frustration as you turned away from your captain. Taking your silence as a sign to continue, Rodimus tried to reach out. "Hey, if there is something bothering you, then you can always talk about it with me. We're friends, right?" "I-!" You didn't know what to say and honestly, you didn't even want to talk. "Rodimus, I'm not in the mood for any idle talk." "It's that time on Earth, right? When families celebrate with their loved ones? I had a hunch, or Megatron did, that you might not be happy about being here and not on Earth,” Rodimus said. You shot him a furious glare as you lost your temper. "Yeah, I miss my family and friends, so what?! Now leave me alone!" You thought you meant it, but in reality the thought of Rodimus leaving now left you feeling even worse. You wished that he would stay with you a little longer, but you had already yelled at him and pushed him away. Rodimus looked at you sadly, and nodded. "Alright, I'll leave." Your heart ached, and you bit your lips, but Rodimus wasn't done. "I just want you to read the messages on your phone." You were biting your lip so hard that you could taste iron, but you walked over to your bed to where your phone lay on the bedside table. You unlocked your phone, and you were taken aback by all of the messages. One by one you opened them, and the more you read, the more your anger faded and more your heart warmed. Rung: 'You're by far the kindest human that has ever lived.' Drift: 'Your aura is beautiful and amazing, just like you.' Ratchet: 'You understand things others overlook.' Tailgate: 'You are super nice, and the most badass person I know!' Cyclonus: 'I enjoy our conversations and your singing.' Whirl: 'You make me hate life a little less." Brainstorm: 'You're an inspiration!' Nautica: 'You're so adorable and funny!' Megatron: 'You forgave me when others wouldn't.' Swerve: 'If you ever want we could be roomies!' Ultra Magnus: 'You always return your reports on time and in admirable condition.' Rewind: 'You're a great influence on Domey and me.' Chromedome: 'You make Rewind and me happy.' "Everybody...!" You gasped through oncoming tears. Your lower lip was wobbling dangerously and you quickly rubbed your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt before tears could fall. Rodimus was watching you with a soft smile on his lips. "There is still my message." You sniffled and skipped to the last message on your phone. Rodimus: ’You have the prettiest eyes that twinkle brighter than stars when you laugh.' You thought that was it, but no, another message from Rodimus popped up! Rodimus: 'You come up with quick and witty responses that leave everyone laughing and smiling.' Rodimus: 'Your smile is highly contagious.' Rodimus: 'We would fight a Sparkeater for you.' Rodimus: ’We all love and care for you.' That was it. Tears streamed down your cheeks. You turned to address Rodimus with your face bright red and wet with tears. "I'm sorry I snapped and yelled...!" You sobbed. "This is, this is my first Christmas without my family. I thought I was ready for it, but it hit me harder than I thought...!" "You have nothing to apologize for." Rodimus smiled, as he understood what you were going through. He bent down and opened his arms for you and you couldn't fight the temptation. You jumped up to hug him, and he held you close to his chassis, servo gently rubbing your back. You didn’t want to let go, you wanted to keep clinging onto him to absorb his affection. When you felt like you wouldn't cry anymore, you pulled back and wiped your sore eyes. "I still have something for you," Rodimus confessed. You looked at him with your eyes red from crying. "What is it?" "Give me your hands,” he instructed. The captain smiled before pulling something from his subspace to place it in your cupped hands. It felt cold and hard, with pointed edges. He pulled his servos back, and you looked at what he had given you. A Rodimus Star. You got a famous Rodimus Star. Freely given, but you had never gotten one before. You stared at the golden medal with eyes wide, then looked at Rodimus with confusion clear on your face. "It's a Rodimus Star." "Yeah." "Why are you giving me one?" You asked. "I was rude to you the whole day... I don't think I deserve it..." "Really, if anyone deserves that star it's you, but it will always be the second-best star on this ship,” he said with a huge grin, You frowned in confusion. "What's the best star?" Rodimus smiled so wide his denta showed. Your phone vibrated, signaling that you had a new message. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, and your eyes widened when you saw the message. Rodimus: 'You.' You looked at Rodimus, but then there was another message. Rodimus: 'You light up the whole crew, and always show us the better way.' "Rodimus..." You whispered. The red and yellow mech leaned down. "Yeah?" "This is so sweet that I’m going going to be sick," You confessed. The captain smiled. "Sweet, right?" "No, not sweet!" You said with a light laugh. "It's overly sweet!" "Better sweet than sour!" He laughed, before taking on a more serious look. "If you want, we have your family on the line in the control room. Wanna go and tell them how good we take care of you?" Your eyes widened in a mixture of shock and joy, and you nodded enthusiastically. Rodimus smiled and picked you up to set you on his shoulder, and you used your new position to your advantage by pressing a kiss to the side of his helm. "Thank you, captain,” you said gratefully. The red mech smiled. “Anytime.” He was about to step out of your habsuite, when you told him to wait. “Stand over there, close to the tree,” you requested. “Huh? Is here okay?” Rodimus asked, standing next to the artificial Christmas tree that was about half his height. “Just a little closer…” You said, reaching towards the tree. Rodimus leaned closer to the tree, holding onto your legs so that you wouldn’t fall off of his shoulder. You placed the Rodimus Star in the place of honor at the top of the tree. “There!” You exclaimed. Rodimus straightened up, and the two of you admired the twinkling and shifting colors of the fiberoptic lights, and the golden star perched at the point, with Rodimus’ likeness shining proudly.
“It’s perfect,” you said, trying to wrap your arms around Rodimus’ helm.
#christmas#mtmte#transformers mtmte#transformers#rodimus#rodimus prime#star#reader#reader insert#fluff#writing#my writing#story#my story#ultra magnus#megatron#rung#swerve#chromedome#rewind#nautica#brainstorm#ratchet#drift#tailgate#whirl#cyclonus
52 notes
·
View notes