Cioccolata from real life is a genderfluid xenogender trendergender viralgender schizic praegender objectfeminine moldgender dragongender deathcute catgender autigender horrorcosmium GNC trans gay who uses It / Its, Voi / Void, ⛓️/⛓️s, Ix / Ix, Gore / Gores, Nya / Nyan, Mold / Molds, and He / She and has all Its pronouns and names always capitalized.
Hi!!!!!!! Loooooove your writing!!!! May I ask Tangerine x reader (fem if you want!), hot "Thank god you are safe!" kind of sex?
Thaaaaaank you for your support and for sending this over!! 💕 I am so so so happy to read comments on my posts and I really appreciate receiving these messages. Please accept this work as a token of my gratitude -
Request: Gunpoint - Tangerine x gn!reader
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), smut, & cursing
“I’m okay. I promise.”
“He held a gun to your head, Y/N.”
He has a serious look on his face but his dick is sliding deliciously in and out of you. He’s thrusting slowly. Analyzing, not admiring, your body to ensure there aren’t any hidden cuts or marks he may have missed from earlier. You’re clenching down on his cock to try and savor the feeling of him filling you up. Gripping him to hold onto the feeling of being full to avoid the emptiness from him slipping out.
You’re grateful Tangerine is so doting. It’s an entirely different side to him that not many people see. He’s generally caring and listens to you, but his worry is not an emotion you see often. In reactive situations, when the cause for the stress is over, he gets clingy and has to state verbal reminders that you’re okay, but they're mostly for himself. It's been a while since you've seen this side of him, but today put him in a position he hasn’t been in before and you could tell it shattered him.
Earlier, you opened the front door of your apartment with a smile, thinking it was just Tangerine meeting you for your agreed date. However, you were staring down the barrel of a gun with a sweaty, blonde man’s hesitating finger dancing on the trigger.
Moments later, Tangerine’s pounding footsteps were heard down the building's corridor. His tight facial expression faltered once he got a look at the scene now in front of him. Blondie had swooped in behind you and put you in a chokehold; the pressure of the gun prodding at your head.
The look on his face paired with the gun made your stomach twist. He paled whilst trying to fight off any trace of worry to not give Blondie the reaction he wanted. But you can pick up on any of his micro-expressions, except he wasn’t successful at fully hiding some of the changes to his demeanor. Contorted eyebrows here, a quivering lip there, hands stuttering with the flexing then balling of his fists, and a command to let you go with a slight quiver to his stern tone. And when he locked eyes with you, you could read his silent plea for you to stay calm. He was helplessly trying to figure out a safe way to free you from being Blondie’s hostage without having said man react and shoot you. You never saw that clear emotion wash over him before. It didn’t make you feel good at all. You felt horrible to be in a position where your smart, always confident Tangerine was unsure of himself and what to do next. To feel this way being the one with a loaded weapon pressed against your temple says a lot.
But you’d do anything to never have him doubt himself or for you to be labeled as a damsel in distress. So, you took initiative to defend yourself against Blondie by throwing your head back into his nose as you’ve seen in the movies. Honestly, what they don't tell you, is that the impact causes whatever part of your own head to throb. But arguably that was the preferred pain over the harsh smack of the gun to your face. Your body hitting the ground with a quickly forming welt set Tangerine off, and now Lemon is currently out God only knows where to dispose of Blondie’s corpse.
Tangerine embraced you over the cooling body, followed by a quick text to Lemon. He iced your cheek/eye in the kitchen. Leading to more kisses that finally wound you up on your bed for him to 'assess' how bad your injuries are. Now you're here.
“Tan, I’m not gonna break. Fuck me, baby.”
Wordlessly, he is moving back to sit down near the end of the bed and pulls your body with him. You’re now straddling his lap; being wrapped in his arms with his dick never slipping out of you. His hands soothingly stroke up and down your sides as he continues to thrust his cock rhythmically. Fingers ghost over the bruise on your face. He’s afraid to apply any pressure to it. This close you can see how genuinely concerned he was and still is. There are traces of tears around his baby-blue eyes. You're not sure if they’re from now or earlier in the hall, and he would deny having ever welled up if you tried asking. But you carefully stroke under his eye with your thumb to wipe them away and now he’s staring at you.
“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” he admits.
You kiss his fingers as they sweep over your lips then replace the sensation with a soft kiss to his own. A silent message that that didn’t happen. You’re alive.
“I’m right here,” you whisper promises against his lips, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”
His mouth quirks into a smile and nips at your lip,
“Oh, yea. You’re an absolute bore to be stuck with,” he teases.
Your giggle turns into a hearty moan as he gives you an unexpected firm fuck up into you. Oh. His pace has impressively sped up and his hands keep alternating where he's holding you. Like he wants to constantly touch you to physically confirm you’re here with him.
“You’re safe,” he whispers; moans escaping past his concerned tone.
“Yes, baby. I’m all yours.”
“Mine,” he nods then sucks a love bite into your collarbone. Then moves to place one onto your skin just above your left nipple. Taking a moment to pay attention to the sensitive bud by licking and suckling on it. You’re writhing against him; pushing his hair back from his face to watch him pay attention to your chest.
Your nails bite at his shoulders with each drive up into you. The bed creeks and shakes with his hips pistoning into you from below, creating the sickest, dirtiest slapping sounds in the room. What he's doing with his lower half is a stark contrast to the gentle touches he places on your face. The overwhelming sensation of your creeping orgasm and being cradled so close to Tangerine is your confirmation that you’re here and today really drove in the fact that you know Tangerine will always strive to keep you out of harm's way.
one word prompt: falling
ava talks at night. you learned this fact while sharing a bed with her, night after night, tucked up in a bed that had been exaggeratedly labelled a double. wrist to wrist, shoulder to shoulder (ashes to ashes). on some nights, when ava was feeling lonely or mean, she would hook her ankle around yours too. or wriggle, making frustrated breathy noises, onto her side like a fish on the sand, and throw an arm across your waist and her face right into the curve of your neck. and then she would talk.
(you can feel her lips against your neck when you concentrate. you have been filling your mind with other, better, safer things instead. like how many hours it’s been since you left switzerland. like miguel being michael being doctor salvius’s son. like how many hours it has been since you prayed, since you emptied out the vessel of your heart and mind, entrusting it’s contents to God. it has been twenty-three days, four hours since my last confession, you think, and stop precisely there.)
‘how’s your leg?’
you hum. flex the muscles carefully working up from ankle—twinge—calf, knee, thigh. your thigh hurts in a dull way you recognise. it was the strike that staggered you, numbed your leg to the point where it couldn’t bear weight. it would be bruised for a long time but shouldn’t cause you any trouble.
‘much better. and yours?’
in the dark, you can’t see the way she kicks out with both legs but you feel it, the way the bed shakes and the sheets pull and give way, messily. she kicks again and the cool air from the air-conditioning floods beneath the sheets, now fully untucked. her heels thud back down to the mattress. the sheets settle more slowly, falling around your limbs.
‘gotta test them. all good again.’
‘you’re worried,’ you say, because that was another thing you learned in switzerland. anything you say to each other in the dark can be forgiven. anything you say in the dark is only as real as you want it to be come morning. ‘about the halo. about being paralyzed again.’
‘yeah. and a lot more than that.’
it’s not a perfect darkness. when you turn your head, her profile is outlined by the glow of the balcony lights. anything you say in the dark is forgotten, forgiven. what about what you might do? you reach out. touch two fingers to her forehead. she gasps. doesn’t move as you follow the light, the path laid out in front of you. you chart her forehead, dip at the bridge of her nose. such a light touch. she doesn’t move. when you reach the tip of her nose, she scrunches it just to make you smile. you’re still smiling as your fingers drop to her lips.
ava breathes out. hot air against your fingers. you trip over her top lip, lightly graze the bottom, and when you make it to her chin you’re breathing like you ran a marathon.
‘i would stay,’ you tell her. ‘if it went out. if you wanted me to. maybe,’ you say, because you can be mean too, ‘even if you didn’t want me to.’
Smut ask game! Number 7 👀👀
#7: “You want your [object] back? Make me.”
Title: Make Me
Warnings: Dubcon, Spanking, Brat!Reader, Dom!Bucky Barnes, Aggressive Bucky (lmao)
A/N: GOD I LOVE THIS PROMPT LMAO. Omg as soon as i got this this EXACT scenario popped into my head and i knew it was the one 🤣
This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! Minors, DNI! Enjoy 😘
Summary: You confront your inconsiderate new neighbor.
You sat straight up in bed, staring blearily around the room.
“Wha’ time’ssit?” You mumbled, rubbing at your eyes as you groped for your phone, lost among your sheets and pillows. You groaned loudly as another apartment shaking THUMP vibrated through your bedroom, and finally you felt the cool glass of your phone under your fingertips. You winced as the bright light blinded you, and you cursed, almost dropping it.
“What the fuck is he doing now?” You groaned. Your newest neighbor—newest pain in the ass, more like—had begun remodeling. You weren’t sure what he could be doing at three-oh-fucking-eight in the morning, but that had to be it. Another loud bang had you sitting back up in bed, and you threw the pillow angrily across the room. Before you’d realized it, you were shoving your feet into your ratty blue slippers, and marching across the creaky floor.
Three-oh-goddam-motherfucking-eight, you thought venomously, stalking single mindedly through your kitchen towards the front door. You’d been more than lenient when it came to your rather reclusive neighbor—when he’d moved in in the middle of the night, furniture banging up the stairwell. When he’d boxed your car in for four hours, forcing you to take a taxi to work—after leaving a polite but firm note on the windshield of his bike—you’d been understanding then, too. And it had helped to run into his cute blond friend leaving his apartment, who asked if maybe you might look in on his insular friend from time to time.
But it was three-sweet-fucking-jesus-oh-eight in the goddamn morning, and you had to be up for work in four hours—you didn’t have it in you to be tolerant, not when—THUMP!—you’d barely gotten enough sleep as it was. You tore open the door to your apartment, glaring down the hallway hatefully.
You clenched your fists, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door labeled J. Barnes. You waited with baited breath for a few minutes before you knocked again, this time louder. Finally—finally—the banging stopped, and you heard an irritated sigh from the other side of the door.
You scoffed. Unbelievable. You glared at the door incredulously. He wasn’t even going to open the damn door to talk to you after making enough noise to wake up the whole block?!
“It’s 3:08 in the morning, would you mind not hammering on the wall?” You snapped, placing your on your hips. “Some of us have to work in the morning.” You could hear the sound of the door chain being unlatched, and you stepped back a little as the door swung open.
Oh my god. He leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. You swallowed audibly, forcing your eyes to stop traveling down the light dusting of hair just below his navel. Instead, they found the welted, angry skin connecting what looked to be a Stark-level prosthetic to his shoulder. You licked suddenly dry lips. You hadn’t actually seen your neighbor before, though if you’d known he was built like goddamn Hercules, you might have been more inclined to keep a civil tongue in your head.
“What’s the problem?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at you. You hoped like hell he hadn’t witnessed the momentary departure of all of your brain function. You cleared your throat.
“It’s um, it’s late.” You stammered, cursing yourself. Get it together girl. “And you’re being really loud.” He held a hammer loosely in his metal hand, a testament to the construction he’d just been taking part in. You grew bolder. “Maybe try doing your remodeling during regular hours?” You suggested snippily, crossing your arms. His eyes traveled lower, and suddenly you were painfully aware that you weren’t wearing a bra. You were still in your pajamas, a tank-top and shorts that were probably too small to be decent. You quickly uncrossed your arms, not missing the lascivious smirk that spread across his handsome features.
“See that’s the problem doll,” He said, clearly enjoying the way you fumed at the pet-name. “I work during ‘regular people hours’.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you tried not to lick your lips as his muscles bunched and flexed under his skin. “So you can kind of see my problem.”
“You’re not the only person in the building,” You snapped. “Other people live here too.”
“And you’re the only one complaining.” He replied easily, and you fought the urge to stomp your foot. It was the lack of sleep making you tired and irritable, you already knew this, but his flippant attitude certainly wasn’t helping. You wanted to scream, but you held it in—barely.
“Look. It’s 3:08 in the morning, and—”
“—AND you’re making it impossible for me to sleep. My bedroom is right behind…whatever the hell you’re doing in here.” You continued, ignoring his snide interruption.
“Poor thing,” He grinned wolfishly at you, his eyes tracing the outline of your breasts hungrily through your shirt. “I’d hate to keep you out of bed.” Your face heated, and you sputtered at him.
“J-just keep it down, okay?” Your voice came out shrill and squeaky, and you winced, turning on your heel. “Some of us are trying to sleep!” You started back down the hallway towards your own apartment, feeling his eyes on your back the whole way.
You slammed your door harder than necessary, and made your way back to your bedroom, your heart pounding a little harder in your chest when you realized that only about three feet of wall separated you from your hot—irritating—neighbor. You laid back down in bed, pressing your face into the pillows.
“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”
You threw yourself back out of bed, forgoing even your slippers this time as you marched back down the hall. You banged on his door again, all semblance of patience gone. He opened it, smirking down at you.
“Yes?” He had the hammer in his hand again, held loosely against his hip. You said nothing as your hand snaked forward, snatching it from his fingers. He was surprised and you used it to your advantage, speeding back down the hall and locking your door as he stared at you, open mouthed.
“Poor thing,” You said mockingly, tossing the hammer onto your counter. He could have it back when he could be responsible with it, goddammit. Until then, you would be keeping it in your custody until Mr. J. Barnes could prove that he wasn’t a threat to your nightly rest. You heard him shuffling down the hallway to knock on your door rather forcefully—but you ignored him. He knocked another time, before you heard him curse loudly on the other side of the door.
“Open up, doll.”
You yawned loudly. “I don’t think I will. I’m actually about to head to bed, so…” You drawled, smirking triumphantly at him through the peep-hole. “Maybe you should too.”
“Very funny. Now open up and give me my tools back, doll.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.” A heavy thump shook your apartment, and you yelped with surprise—he’d pounded his fist heavily against it.
“This is all very funny,” He growled lowly, in a voice that told you he didn’t actually think it was funny at all. “But I’m serious now. I want my shit.” You scowled. He was the one who’d woken you at the asscrack of dawn with his very un-neighborly racket, and promptly refused to quiet down. You weren’t just standing up for yourself, no—you were making a stand for the twelve other tenants in the building too.
“You want me to give your hammer back?” You hissed through the wood. “Make me.”
The sound of splintering wood was ringing in your ears as his metal fist came easily through the thick wood of your front door, wrapping around the handle as he unlocked it. The door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang as you gaped at him. “Y-you can’t—!” His nostrils flared as he looked at you, sprawled on the floor in front of your—now useless—door.
He grabbed your wrist, tugging you to your feet. “Gettin’ real tired of you telling me what I can and can’t do, sweetheart.” He growled, crushing his lips to yours. You gasped in surprise, and he drank the sound greedily, groaning against you. “Fuckin tease—s’this what passes for clothes now?” His hands found your ass, gripping it tightly through the paper thin fabric of your little shorts. You squirmed against him, moaning low in your throat. He delivered a stinging slap to your ass, groaning when you yelped against his lips.
“Shhh,” He said softly, massaging the sore spot he’d just left with cool, metal fingers. He kicked the door shut behind him, walking you further into the apartment. “You’re a real fuckin’ brat, aren’t you doll?” He asked cupping your chin with firm, gentle fingers. You shook your head defiantly. You weren’t sure how this had gone from a disagreement with your neighbor about his after-hours noise level to him punching a hole in your door and then marching inside to deliver the hottest kiss of your life, but here you were. You could feel embarrassing slick gathering between your thighs, and did your best to ignore it.
“N-no! And you need to leave,” You said hotly. “Before I call—” Another sharp slap made you cry out, jerking in his arms. “Ow!”
“Bratty little girls don’t make the rules,” His voice was a low rumble in your ear. “I do.” You sucked a sharp breath into your lungs as he walked you backwards toward your kitchen table. You hated him ordering you around—and more than that, you hated how wet the calm, firm delivery of each command was making you.
“You’re the one breaking into people’s apartments,” You snapped, struggling in his grip, the warm metal whirring as you flailed. This was crazy—you were crazy. You should have been screaming down the building; calling the building manager, calling the cops—but you didn’t. His blue eyes were locked on your face, and you were almost afraid to meet them.
“Only because you stole from me.” He pulled out a chair with his free hand, seating himself. The world flipped on its head as he grabbed you, turning you face down over his lap. Your belly hit his thighs and the wind rushed out of your lungs, leaving you in stunned silence. He clucked his tongue at you as his hands began unabashedly moving over the exposed cheeks of your ass. Your shorts were barely managing to help you retain even an inch of your modesty, and you shivered as cool air moved over the damp spot of cloth covering your pussy. He groped you unabashedly, massaging the cheeks of your ass with slow, satisfied movements, as though he had all the time in the world.
“I didn’t steal from you—” You protested, but your complaint was cut off with another resounding slap that you heard before you felt it. “Ow—stop that!” You whined, kicking your legs uselessly as you tried to wriggle off of his lap.
“You want another one for lying, sweetness?” He asked, his voice low and gravelly.
“I’m not—” SMACK. “Fuck! Stop it!”
He soothed the sting with cool, gentle circles of his metal hand. He ran his fingers through your hair affectionately, wrapping a curl tightly around his thumb before releasing it.
“Now doll. You’re never gonna learn manners if I don’t punish you when you break the rules.” He spanked you again, and the pained cry that tore from your lips ended in a strangled moan. Your face heated, and you pressed it against the leg of his joggers to hide it. You could practically hear the grin dripping from his words. “Oh baby, I think you liked that one.” He chuckled, his fingers dipping between the throbbing cheeks of your ass.
“I don’t need my loud neighbor to teach me manners—hey, no, stop—!!” Your protests came too late, and his cool fingers slid wetly against the swollen lips of your cunt. You were glad that in this position, you couldn’t see the smug, knowing expression you were sure graced his handsome features.
“No?” He asked mockingly, dragging his fingers up and down your slit to collect as much of your wetness as he could. “Could have fooled me.” Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even as your pussy clenched hungrily. He slid one, thick finger into your wet heat, groaning softly. “Fucking tight, too,” He cursed. “Gonna stretch you open on my cock, brat.” He curled his finger inside you, slapping your ass again lightly with his other hand. “Nothin’ to say, huh? Figured you’d shut that smart fuckin’ mouth when I got my hands on you.”
You wanted to tell him to fuck off, that he had no fucking idea what he was talking about—but currently your mouth was busy hanging open, your eyes squeezed shut as he alternated between slipping his fingers into your eager pussy, and laying quick, stinging blows on the soft flesh of your ass. You could feel his hard cock pushing into your belly through his pants, throbbing hotly against you as you squirmed. His calloused thumb circled your clit and you whined, pushing your hips back into his hand. He flicked it and you jerked, burying your teeth in his calf. He hissed, gripping your ass hard with his free hand.
“Fuck.” He hissed under his breath as his cock pulsed against your belly. You grinned, but your pleasure was short lived as he delivered a series of harsh spanks, forcing you to cry out. You pushed at his legs, hitting at them uselessly as he held you still, his fingers still damp with you.
“Looks like nobody ever gave you a proper spanking, sweetheart,” He growled. “But I’ll fix that.” You howled with pain, uncaring if any of the neighbors heard you. When you were sobbing softly against his leg, your pussy soaked and twitching, he righted you, spreading your legs across his lap. “You ready to be good for me, doll?” He asked, tilting your chin up for another kiss. You nodded breathlessly. He reached for the waistband of your shorts, the now warm metal humming against your skin as he tore them easily. He bit his lip at the sight of you, scrubbing a hand down his stubbled chin. “Fuck.”
He didn’t bother taking off his joggers, just sliding them down far enough for the fat head of his cock to spring out, slapping against his stomach. You clenched, suddenly aware of how achingly empty you were. “You want this dick, sweetness?” He asked, tugging your top down to expose your breasts. You nodded eagerly, your eyes flicking up to his and then back down. You reached for him, your hand wrapping around the base and working up to the tip. He grinned. “Then you better ask real nice.”
You swallowed thickly. “I want you to fuck me.”
“Not good enough doll. Try again.” You pouted at him. He slid the head of his cock against you, and you hissed, sucking in a sharp breath.
“Can you please fuck me, Mr. Barnes.”
“Mmm, I like that. Say it again.”
“Please fuck me, Mr. Barnes,” You moaned as he pushed the head of his cock against you, popping it just inside. He cursed, throwing his head back as his eyes slid shut.
“God fucking damn.” He fucked up into you, expletives falling continuously from his lips as he helped you ride him. “So good,” He grunted, his fingers tightening hard on your hips. “Should’a done this weeks ago.” You felt so full, and his hands were everywhere. Ghosting over your back, tweaking your nipples and slapping your already sore ass. You already felt heat building in your belly, tension forcing you to move your hips faster, angle him deeper—and he grabbed your hips, pulling your down hard against him. He swore, pulling you off of him.
You only had time to moan once in complaint before he bent you over the table, kicking your legs apart as he fisted his cock with his other hand, lining himself quickly back up with the tight hole he’d just been occupying.
“Shi-it,” He groaned as he slid in slowly, not stopping until his hips were pressed tightly against the curve of your ass. He fucked you hard, hard enough to shake the little vase of flowers from your table and send it crashing to the floor. Your eyes rolled in your head as your pussy clenched hard around him. So close—
“You gonna cum, baby?” He asked, his hand sliding up your spine to cup the back of your neck, pressing you harder into the table.
“Oh fuck,” You mewled, nodding. “Yes, yes, yes—” You clamped down around him like a vice, fresh wetness coating his cock and the table beneath you as you came harder than you could ever fucking remember—right on your kitchen table. His cock was twitching, his hips still moving against you as you felt answering sticky heat coat your insides. He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, his lips moving silently against your skin in what you could only assume were either praises or curses.
He pulled out of you reluctantly, and it took every ounce of your strength to turn around and look at him, your head still fuzzy. He sat heavily back down in the chair, dragging a hand across his sweaty forehead.
“So…” You asked, trying and failing to stand straight on your still shaking legs. “What’s, um… your name?” You asked, and he laughed.
“I hope you’re good with that stupid hammer, Bucky,” You panted. “Because you’re gonna fix my door.”
Headcanon : From friend to boyfriend
Author note : I’ve got nothing to say I’m fucking loser just enjoy it ♡ For my page setting I got the inspire from two blogs @/tokrev-roses and @/Tokyo-fukushu (go to see them they’re incredible they make such a wonderful jobs ♡ and if you guys saw it well I didn’t mention you because I didn’t want to bother you 👉🏻👈🏻) I didn’t know if it would work but I tried.
Warning : Swearing - mention of fight - child it might be dangerous to be a thug so don’t do it I guess ?
Manjiro Sano - 佐野 ( さの ) 万次郎
I can see him dating his childhood friend, I mean the man actually likes them protecting them ? He would even get extra attention if he is dating you so why don’t give it a shot ?
Obviously your relationship didn’t start like this (I mean not entirely)
You were living quite close to him I mean like on his neighborhood and one day you just saw him walking around probably getting back from school. A lollipop in his mouth, his hand behind his head the little boy was walking as if he was ruling the city (he might but you haven’t known yet), as a child you were kinda curious to know him since he seemed to be around your own age.
So you walked to start a conversation with him, as expected the little boy was pretty chill about everything so it was easy to talk with. You two talks about everything and anything at the same time until the little boy’s tummy was yelling for foods, laughing at his state you decided to buy him something since he was your very first friends.
After asking him what he wanted you moved into a Konbini
That you discover that his favourite was Taiyaki and Dorayki
You two started to hang on frequently (every day to be honest, each time he saw you leaving school he either ran into you or yelled to go home with him). People sorting to think that you two were in love with each other even though you both claimed that you were friends (even part of the same crew).
You even started to go into the same martial class as Baji, knowing it was his grandfather ruling everything, so you could spend more time with your new friends and get to know him more.
He never failed to amaze you, and took great pleasure of doing so many techniques just to see you getting all impressed.
He also enjoys seeing you working hard to do the same techniques he does previously
That was your label for a long time until you started to notice your own reaction around him.
It was pretty silly at first. When he was too close to you, you felt your cheeks coloured in red. When he was smiling at you you couldn’t help but smile at him too, you discovered you were weak for his pouty face. Also whenever he was touching you (brushing his hand at yours or even touching like when he is taking your wrist to look at him so he would pout to have his precious Dorayaki he was craving for).
Honestly you just thought that you were starting to be a fan or something which was a little bit embarrassing.
But nothing to be worried about
Then, You’ve started to feel that it was maybe more than just a friendship or at least you were loving him more than you should.
You realized one day that you were in love with him, when he decided to kick your bullies’ ass without telling you. Like you once told him about those teenagers who were bullied you and that you’ll work even more harder so you could kick their ass. But it wasn’t on Mikey’s taste like all he heard was « Y/N is in danger I must protect them » and so did he. He walked into your school looking for those bastards.
Once he found them it was already over for them, he quickly kicked them off and as expected they weren’t as strong as they thought they were just in groups. What he didn’t expect, was you looking at him beating the shit out of your bullies.
The way he was beating each of them, how he was easily taking them down, the way he was fighting for you to protect you. It was the last thing you needed to fall deeply in love with him.
Even if he was still a little boy, his aura was quite something from behind (though he is quite small) he looked like an adult. A true leader.
You couldn’t think more about it because he turns in head into your direction raising his brow « what are you doing ? Let’s go I’m hungry y/n » he then smiled at you.
During your walk into the closest Konbini he was acting as if he didn’t previously fight against teenagers while still being well a little boy. You two were as usual talking about everything and anything until you found the shop, then he proceed to whine about not having money to buy Taiyaki or Dorayki.
Since you couldn’t refuse anything at him when he was all pouting you proceeded to buy his favourite foods
But being the young baby you were you didn’t understand that all the feelings you were feeling, how you cheeks tend to be red around him, how nervous you were when you walked together, how worried you were sometimes when you saw him his covering with some bloods (even though you knew it wasn’t his).
It took you one year to actually understand that you fell in love with him, and that you might screw your relationship because of that.
In fact when you finally aged up to go into junior high school, you started to have other friends than Mikey (it doesn’t mean you didn’t talk to him anymore quite the contrary). And those friends were particularly interested on one thing « crush ».
You’ve never heard about crush before, I mean you were aware of the attraction between two people but as a child you weren’t interested in him especially since your close friends (Mikey for exemple) didn’t give a damn about it, so you did the same.
Talking with those new friends made you realized that you had a crush on your best friends
Things started to get weird between you two
Cause whenever Mikey was around too and a little bit too close to you, you started to freak out afraid that he might discover your secret. So you tried your best to be a little bit distant with him
Which honestly broke his little heart, he kept wondering « why Y/N isn’t walking with me anymore ? » Why aren’t we sharing foods anymore »
It didn’t help that he started to really miss you, and was craving for well, attention from you
He never realized it but he was craving for your praise or approval. Like whenever you were sipping over him being so cool, he couldn’t help but to flex his chest with a smirk looking at Draken (as if he didn’t give a shit about your praise)
Also he was starting to feel a little bit nervous ? Everytime you were riding his bike and put your hand around his chest or waist for support he couldn’t help but feel nervous and relax at the same time.
One time when you were daydreaming as Mike was driving you home after school, you nuzzled your head on the crook on his neck. Smelling his smell, and his warmth you were starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t notice it, but when you put your head on his neck he started to shiver, his ears were a little bit red too, his heart was beating like hell.
He didn’t expect you to get so comfortable around him, but was he concerned ? Absolutely not, he even enjoyed it knowing you were so good with him
But then it happens, he started to dream about you. Every night he didn’t spend on thinking about his brother and what he could do to protect him, prevent his death, his night was decimated to you.
One time you two were driving together talking about everything, on other time you two were sharing some foods on the beach his hand around your waist as you were putting your head on his shoulder.
He even once dreamt about you two kissing, like you were on a picnic date together he did some funny face to make you laugh and just feel it. He wanted to kiss you, and being the blunt guy he is he just put his hand on your cheeks and then kiss you. To his surprise you hug him as one of your hand moved to his hair so you could kiss him more.
He woke up that night his face all read, his index on his lips (as if he could still taste your lips on his).
Those dreamt kept coming again and again
So he knew something was wrong so he talked to Draken who just looked at him as is he was dumbest man of the world « Mikey you’re just in love with Y/n »
What do you mean just in love ? He was the god damn leader of a gang, he was Mikey the invicible and yet he falls in love.
How he wishes his brother was still here to help him
Because he didn’t any idea how to handle this ?
The real issue according to Draken was to know if you were interest in such relationships especially since you two know each other since you were a child. They were a probability according to him that you weren’t interested on him but according to his sister Emma they were a high probability that you were in fact into him. She couldn’t prove it though.
It took him so many days until one day he had enough, he just wanted to talk about it so he could dream peacefully. No one knows about his « weird » dream and honestly he couldn’t take the risk of Draken knowing about it he wouldn’t see the end of it
So one day he just drives into your school and was waiting for you, to be sure that you won’t avoid him pretending of not seeing him. He parks right into of the gate and was making so noise with his bike. Everything so you would notice him.
Of course you saw him, and since he looked straight into your eyes, you knew you will go home with him (not that it bothers you quite contrary but it was starting to be more and more difficult to keep a straight face around him)
So you didn’t try to escape or anything afraid he might be sad or worst angry against you, and you moved behind him on his bike so he could drive you.
Much to your surprise, he wasn’t driving you home, in fact he was driving into that forest where he kissed you in his dream (something told him he must go here to succeed so). Which was starting to confuse you like where were you going ?
Knowing when he got something in mind you couldn’t fight you just decided to wait until he would park to confront him about it.
But again you couldn’t manage to say anything, as soon as he parked his bike he was already walking into that spot the one he saw in his dream to confess. So you had no choice but to follow him knowing you couldn’t get home until he decided so
When you two reached the spot Mikey was looking for, he finally turned into your direction looking right at you.
He looked very serious, he got that face you know ? The one he got when he was ruling a Toman’s meeting. You got Mikey the invisible in front of you, and even if you were used to see him leading you still were surprised (and a little bit scared) when you were confronting the leader and not your childhood friends.
Unconsciously you gulped which Mikey noticed and couldn’t help but chuckled a little bit
« You know it’s not funny to make fun of me Mikey »
« You’re just too tensed it’s funny »
« No it’s not *sigh* you’re just so serious right now what’s happening ? »
« Are you afraid of me y/n ? »
« Uh ? What are you talking about of course not »
« Then why are you avoiding me so much ? »
« I-I’m not I just »
« Don’t lie to me Y/N »
« I’m not I swear I’m not avoiding you Mikey I just got so many things in mind I-i’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway » (of course you couldn't just straightly tell him that you weren't seeing him as much as before because your heart decided to beat like a damn drummer each time you were closed to him)
« Well that’s good then »
« Good ? »
« Yeah I couldn’t scare the person I love it wouldn’t make sense »
« (…) Wait what ? »
Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, you’re face was all read you didn’t even notice you high-pitched voice.
All you notice was Mikey holding his stomach with both of his hands, laughing so loudly tears rolling on his chest, his smile was so big.
Damn, I wish I could see him more like this was all you could think at that moment
When he finally calmed himself he just looked at you smiling and proceed to repeat himself « You hear me y/n I’m in love with you »
Before you could even realized, you ran into his chest holding him for dear life. As Mikey didn’t expect you to literally jump into his arm he couldn’t managed to catch and to keep his balance at the same time, so you just ended up laying on the floor, you on the top of him. He didn’t mind though, having you close to him relax him more than he could realize.
As you were mumbling something against his chest, he didn’t have any choice but to stand up a little bit while holding you so you two could be face to face. He then asks you to repeat yourself so he could hear you two.
« I love you too Mikey »
« *chuckle* Guess we’re dating each other now »
He didn’t kiss you that but he promised himself to do things like his dream, he wasn’t worried anymore he got you by his side.
how about 4 from the prompts list? "I'm here, aren't I?"
okay fun fact when i sat down to fill this prompt and turned my spotify on shuffle the first song to come up was i'm here by sweet talk radio so like... that's appropriate lmao
thanks for the prompt!!
"i'm here, aren't i?" buck mutters under his breath. "stop looking at me like that! it's rush hour on a friday, i did the best i could with the traffic conditions i had."
"i know, i know," eddie whispers next to him. "i'm not mad at, you, i just—" he cuts himself off and sighs. "i was going to talk to you about something before we went in."
"why am i here, anyway?" buck asks, looking around at all of the parents and teachers milling around the foyer of christopher's school. "i mean, you know i don't mind, but you made it sound really—"
he's interrupted by the sound of a woman's voice, somewhere on eddie's other side. "mr diaz, there you are! and this must be the husband."
buck whirls to look at eddie, because—if eddie has a husband, this is the first he's hearing of it.
please, eddie's expression seems to say, desperate and cornered and a little hopeful. and buck's never been able to deny him anything.
he's always been quick on the uptake, and even if he wasn't, eddie's arm sliding around his waist would probably make the pieces slip into place. so he schools his features into his best approximation of what a husband probably looks like and turns to face the woman next to eddie.
she's bright and bubbly, the platonic ideal of a suburban california soccer mom. she holds out a hand, and buck grins as he shakes it. "that's me," he confirms.
"and are you mr diaz as well?" she asks, and buck breathes an internal sigh of relief when she doesn't add anything along the lines of i don't really know how it works with you people.
"buckley, actually," he tells her. "buck." then he drops his voice and leans in like he's sharing a secret. "makes it easier at work, you know, so our captain knows who he's talking to."
she laughs, and eddie squeezes his hip. "i've heard a lot about you," she says with a smile. then she inclines her head at eddie. "he won't shut up about you, actually."
buck grins. "is that so?" he asks, turning to look at eddie.
eddie rolls his eyes. "i talk about you a normal amount," he says. "don't go getting an ego about this."
the woman introduces herself as somebody's mother. next to him, eddie falls into an easy conversation about math homework and the upcoming science fair, but buck is only half-listening. he's mostly preoccupied by the fact that eddie, apparently, goes around telling people that they're married. which is definitely news to him.
he's also more than a little preoccupied by the warm weight of eddie's arm resting around his waist, and the casual way eddie's hand curls around his hip like it belongs there. before he can think better of it, buck leans further into eddie's embrace, and eddie adjusts his grip mid-sentence like this is something they do every day and not something out of buck's wildest daydreams.
eventually, the woman excuses herself to go and find some teacher or the other.
"husband, huh?" buck asks. "that's funny, i don't remember you proposing. or, you know, asking me out."
as he speaks, eddie detaches himself from buck. when buck turns to look, eddie is already wearing a guilty expression.
eddie sighs. "i was going to tell you," he says. "that's what i wanted to talk to you about before we came in."
"i mean, yeah, knowing ahead of time that i'm supposed to be acting like your husband would have made life a little easier," buck says. "also, uh, why am i supposed to be acting like your husband, again?"
eddie looks away, squirrely in the way buck knows he only gets when he's embarrassed. "there was a teacher a while back," he says. "she kept, uh, hitting on me? so i panicked and said i was married."
"okay, so, why me?" buck asks, and wonders if eddie can hear the unspoken question. why are you pretending to be married to a man? eddie's never given any indication that he's anything other than straight. it's the biggest reason buck has him firmly mentally labelled as never going to happen, buckley, you might as well stop dreaming about it.
it hasn't worked so far, but repetition is key.
"i guess christopher talks about you a lot," eddie says. "she asked if it was you, and it seemed easier to say yes than to invent some kind of fictional spouse that i'd have to remember details about."
"romantic," buck says, and eddie laughs and elbows him.
"so why didn't you just tell me?" buck asks.
"i was going to, if you'd been here when you said you would!"
"hey, it's not my fault the 146 didn't manage their pile-up scene properly and traffic backed up!" buck says. "besides, you could also have told me at any other point in time between now and—how long have you been telling people this?"
"uh... six months, give or take," eddie says. "that's why it was so important you come tonight—i've been making excuses for you at school events, but the other parents have started to question it and i don't want them thinking my imaginary husband is a shitty person."
"clearly you have better taste than that," buck agrees.
eddie sighs again, but it's good-natured. "god, i should have known you'd be insufferable about this."
"and yet you picked me anyway," buck beams. "so why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"i was worried you'd think it's weird," eddie says. "and i really needed you to be here."
"mm, being addressed as your husband out of the blue was definitely less weird," buck says.
"so it didn't go exactly to plan," eddie says. "thanks for just rolling with it, by the way."
"of course," buck says. "i've got your back, remember?"
"somehow, i don't think this is what either of us envisioned back in that hospital parking lot," eddie laughs.
and it's true—buck had envisioned doing a lot of things with eddie, back in those first few days before he'd realised he didn't have a chance, but fake marriage was never one of them.
"so is there anything specific you need me to do?" buck asks, in an effort to distract himself from thoughts of the things he did envision.
"just—sell it, i guess?" eddie says. "i'm pretty sure i've only told people things about you that are true anyway, so there's no elaborate cover story or anything."
"except that we're married," buck says.
"except that we're married," eddie agrees. "for—about a year now, i think i've said?"
"a year, okay," buck repeats. "cool, i'm on it." then he steps closer to eddie again and slips his hand into eddie's back pocket.
"buck," eddie hisses. "what are you doing?"
"selling it," buck replies.
"where? in high school in the year 1987?" eddie asks, but he relaxes into buck's side.
"hey, no judging," buck says. "maybe this is my signature move."
"i mean, you do you," eddie says. buck doesn't argue, because he doesn't want to have to tell eddie that he's mostly doing it because this might be the only opportunity he ever gets to touch eddie's ass.
it's only as they set off to meet with the first of christopher's teachers that buck realises he might have miscalculated. because now his hand is on eddie's ass, and he's suddenly hyperaware of even the smallest twitch of his fingers. how much of it can eddie feel? is eddie going to think he's trying to make a move if he accidentally flexes his fingers a little?
it's not that he doesn't want to make a move. it's just that he doesn't think that eddie would be very receptive to it.
except eddie turns out to be a very affectionate fake husband. if buck's hand isn't in eddie's pocket then eddie is holding it. when they sit side-by-side listening to teachers talk about how smart christopher is, eddie's foot is hooked around buck's ankle. in the hallway between meetings, eddie turns to drop a kiss on buck's cheek, and a shiver radiates through him.
buck doesn't know what to make of it. he's used to a certain amount of physical contact from eddie—shoulders brushing together as they walk next to each other, working together so seamlessly their limbs might as well be extensions of each other on calls—but this feels different. it's not just that the touches are different—there's an ease to eddie's actions that makes buck wonder for the first time in years if maybe his mental label for eddie isn't quite as accurate after all.
he doesn't know how else to explain the fact that eddie keeps touching him. it's more than enough to sell their ruse—bordering on excessive, even, especially for a middle school parent-teacher conference.
and buck isn't exactly innocent himself, either. he wonders if a year into a fictional marriage is too far to claim honeymoon period, because that's the closest he can come to describing the feeling—like now that he has permission to touch eddie, the dam has broken and he can't keep his hands off.
they're still holding hands when they spill out of the school doors and into the dark warmth of the september evening. eddie makes no move to let go, and so neither does buck.
buck's jeep is clear across the other side of the parking lot, but he follows eddie to his truck anyway. they reach the car, and eddie brushes his lips against the corner of buck's mouth, closer than he has all night. buck freezes.
eddie pulls back, horror clear across his face. "i'm sorry," he says. "i didn't—i just—i forgot. that we're not inside anymore."
there's just enough wistfulness in his voice that buck makes a split-second decision. he takes a step forwards and takes eddie's face in his hands, stands still for two heartbeats just in case he's reading everything extremely wrong and eddie wants to protest, and then he's kissing eddie.
eddie kisses the way he does everything else, with a steadiness that keeps buck tethered to reality and a quiet intensity that bubbles just under the surface. it's a combination that's uniquely eddie, one that makes buck feel like he could take on the world and win and like he's coming home.
"i don't want it to be just inside," buck says, just in case eddie didn't get the message. "i don't want it to be fake. i mean, it might be a little soon to get married, but—"
"someday, though," eddie says, and buck laughs.
eddie grins at him. "in the meantime, do you want to come home with me tonight?"
"yeah, i really do."
send me a starter line from this list and i'll write a ficlet for it!
Lol that person made a big show about blocking you and they’re now on their 2nd day of throwing a massive hissy fit about how “people are being so mean to me” and “if this is how people are going to take my gentle, good faith posts then maybe I’m just gonna leave this website and stop talking about TLT.” They’re seriously threatening to leave tumblr. Man I don’t know how to tell you that calling random people racist for no reason does not tend to go over well.
Listen. I have never interacted with that person in my life, I haven't checked their blog since reblogging that post. I blogged a bit, went running, had cool conversations in my DMs and went to bed ✨
From my point of view, someone I don’t know hijacked my post and then immediately blocked me for choosing not to engage with their wordsalad wall of text. I think jumping on a joke post labelled as such, made a week ago by someone you never talked to, to #flex your intellectual prowess is a dick move. Their reblog wasn't meant to be educational, it was meant to scold me and to show off. I'll also say that the addition was incredibly dense, and doesn't actually come across as particularly smart or well written if you're familiar with literature on the topic. There’s a reason why academic writing emphasizes clarity, and I’ll leave it at that.
Also I find it hilarious that beating people over the head with the moral stick when they’re just having fun in fandom is like. The antithesis of everything Tazmuir has ever said. Creator is dead and all that, but if you’re reaching deep in the author’s backlog to validate your takes, listen to what they actually are saying. And what Tamsyn is saying is, usually, do fandom however you want & don’t be a dick.
Anyway, this is the last anon I'll publish on that subject because I’m behind with a TLT exchange fic treat and also genuinely do not care. Some people in this fandom have an intellectual superiority complex, I hope they have fun with it. I’m not responsible for whatever they’re getting in their inboxes. Happy weekend.
Bucky Barnes - Salvation
long and kinda slow-burn :)
“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.
“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.
I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.
I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.
Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?
“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.
“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.
“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.
“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”
I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.
“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.
Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”
I furrowed my brows. “What?”
He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”
“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.
He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”
“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.
“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.
“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.
I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.
“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.
“Nice place.” He complimented.
“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”
He nodded. “Anything special?”
I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”
“That would be...nice.” He smiled.
I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.
“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.
“You’re being very kind.” He said.
“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.
He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”
I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.
“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”
I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.
“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”
He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”
His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.
The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”
His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”
He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.
“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”
“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.
It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.
We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.
“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”
I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”
His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”
I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”
He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”
He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”
“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.
Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.
To James B -
Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N
I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.
From James B -
Hey! No worries. Heading over now.
I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.
“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.
James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”
“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.
“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.
After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.
“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”
James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”
“Thank you James.”
“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”
We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.
“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.
I cocked a brow. “No, you?”
“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”
I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”
“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”
“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.
“Why would you think that?” He frowned.
“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”
Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”
I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”
His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.
“I forgive you.”
Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.
“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.
“You aren’t.” I promised.
“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.
“Then do something good.”
His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.
“Please,” he mumbled against me.
Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.
“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.
“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.
His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.
“There?” I nodded at his question.
His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.
“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.
“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.
“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”
I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.
“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.
“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.
“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.
“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.
I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.
“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.
I bucked my hips. “Please,”
I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.
I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“
“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.
I nodded and cried. “Yes!”
“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.
“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”
“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”
My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.
“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.
“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.
We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.
“I already...just then...” he blushed.
“Really?” I giggled.
“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.
I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”
He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”
Puppet Master Chapter Five
MHA x GN!Reader
Previous chapter (4) Next chapter (6)
Table of contents
Warnings for this chapter: Mineta existing, Fighting, Language
A/N: This is like 3 1/2 mha episodes in one chapter, soo it's long. I start school next week:( Also I wasn't really sure how to end this chapter.
Everyone sits in their seats, waiting for Mr. Aizawa to show up and start class.
I sit between a girl with pink skin, who's name I learned to be Mina Ashido. The other girl has long green hair and resembles a frog, who's name is Tsuyu Asui.
Ashido leans over her desk. "Yesterday was nerve wrecking, huh?"
I shurg. "Yeah, I'm just glad nobody went home."
"I can't believe you almost threw that ball as far as Midorya and Bakugo did. What's your quirk anyway?" She sets her elbows on her desk and sets her chin in her hands waiting for me to answer.
I hold out my hands, my marionette controllers appearing. "Puppetry, I can manipulate and control living and non-living things."
Ashido nods. "Wouldn't that be more beneficial in villain work?"
I put my controllers away. "Can't you literary just melt through and disintegrate things?"
She shrugs and settles back into her seat. "Fair."
The classroom door slams open. "I am here!" All Might walks into the classroom. "Coming into the room like a hero!"
Everyone cheers at the sudden appearance as All Might makes his way to the front of the classroom. "Welcome to the most important class at UA High! Think of it like heroing 101! Here you will learn the basics of being a pro, and what it means to fight in the name of justice!" All Might flexes his muscles. "Let's get into it! Today's lesson involves real punches!"
I rest my head in my propped up arm. "Combat training? Already?"
"One of the most important things about being a hero is.. Looking good!" He points to the wall where metal boxes labeled 1-21 come out of the wall. "These were designed for you based off of your quirk registration form and the request you sent in before school started!" Everyone cheers as All Might carries on. "Get suited up and then meet me at the training grounds!"
(Remember you can imagine your hero costume however you want! But refer back to this for things you have to have on it!)
I walk next to everyone,wearing my hero costume, as we exit out of a hallway and into the training grounds that resemble a city, like at the entrance exam.
"They say the clothes make the pros young students!" All Might says. "And behold, you are the proof! Take this to heart, from now on you are all - heros in training!" We stop in front of him as he observes our new clothes. "This is getting me all ramped up! You all look so cool! Now, shall we get started? - You bunch of newbies."
All Might gives us some time to talk to each and get use to our new clothes since he realised we were still missing Midoriya.
"I love your costume, (L/N)!" Uraraka exclaims.
"Thanks, yours looks great too," I look Uraraka up and down. She's wearing a body suit with a ring around her waist and a helmet. "Though, isn't it a bit tight?"
She scratches her neck nervously. "A bit, yeah."
Behind us, followed by foot steps, Midoriya emerges from the dark hallway.
"Hey Deku! Nice costume, not too flashy, y'know?" Uraraka says as we approach. He gawks at Uraraka costume and blushes. "I should've been more specific on what I wanted, heh." She says shyly.
"I love this school," Mineta, who's also starring at Uraraka says.
"You look like you're wearing a diaper and you're the same size of a toddler, so I guess it's fitting." I say which he rolls his eyes at and walks away to some other girls.
Turning back I notice Midorya's green bodysuit paired with.. Ears..? And a mask. "Umm," He turns to me as I point to his..ears..? "What's going on there? Are you a rabbit?"
"Now that you're ready!" Everyone breaks from conversation to pay attention to All Might. "It's time for combat training!"
"Sir!" Next to me a boy - who I realized to be Iida - in a full body of armor, covering everything including his face raises his hand. "This is the same battle center we were in for the entrance exam, are we competing in battles again?"
"Not quite, I'm gonna move you two steps ahead." All Might answers holding up two fingers. "Most of the villains you see on the news take place outside, however statistically speaking, most encounters with evil doers take place indoors. Think about it - back alley deals, home invasions, underground lairs. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows. With this training exercise, you'll be spilt up into villains and heros and you're fight two on two indoor battles!"
Asui speaks up. "Isn't this a little advanced?"
"The best training is the training you get on the battle field! But remember, you won't just be able to punch a robot this time - you're dealing with actual people."
The class begins to ask All Might questions all at once.
"Sir, will you be deciding who wins?"
"How much can we hurt the other team?"
"Do we need to worry about the losers being expelled like last class?"
"Will you be splitting us up based on chance or compared skill?"
"Is this cape sparkly?"
All Might visibly twitches, annoyed at all the questions before pulling out a small book. "Here's the deal! The villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hide out, the heros must try and ruin their plans! To do that the heros either have to catch the villains or recover the weapon. The villains win if they protect their weapon or capture the heros." He puts the book away and picks up a box. "There is a time limit and we'll decide teams by pulling lots. Since there's an uneven amount of people - Young (L/N) will be participating twice, once as a hero and once as a villain - as requested by Mr. Aizawa."
I mentally groan.
All Might begins drawing teams.
Team A: Uraraka and Midoriya.
Team B: Shouji and Todoroki.
Team C: Mineta and Yaoyorozu.
Team D: Bakugo and Iida.
Team E: Ashido and Aoyama.
Team F: Koda and Satou.
Team G: Denki and Jirou.
Team H: Tokoyami and Asui.
Team I: Ojiro and Hagakure.
Team J: Sero and (L/N).
Team K: Kirishima and (L/N).
Everyone moves to stand next to their partner. I walk over to Sero and Kirishima, standing in between them. Sero has on a black and white body suit with a yellow helmet and yellow shoulder pads while Kirishima is shirtless with black pants and red rings around his shoulders that look like gears.
"Must suck having to go twice, (L/N)." Sero says through his helmet which I shrug at.
"Nah, they're getting the most training out of all of us!" Kirishima says, flexing one of his arms.
All Might draws the first two teams to fight, Team A as the heros and Team D as the villains. "Everyone else can head to the monterey room to watch!"
Everyone stays in the monterey room as All Might helps the two teams get set up. I stand next to Sero and Kirishima as we stare up at the big screen on the wall that'll show the fight.
All Might comes in and speaks into a microphone. "Alright, Let's start the fight!" Five screens pop up on the larger one, all different angles and levels of the building they'll be fighting in. "Team A and Team D, your time starts now!" He steps away from the microphone and looks at us. "Pay attention now, think about what you would do."
We watch as Midoriya and Uraraka enter through a window and explore the building, cautiously looking around corners before turning them.
Bakugo runs and jumps around a corner. Midoriya jumps out of the way, taking Uaraka with him. They both fall on the ground as Bakugo explodes a wall. When the smoke clears and the camera is clear again, I notice Midoriya's mask had been ripped, now only half of his face is covered.
"Sneak attack, Bakugo?" Kirishima exclaims from besides me, punching his fist into his other open hand. "What kinda man pulls a move like that?"
"It's a reliable move," All Might reasons. "He's playing the part, acting like a true villain."
"It didn't work, Midoriya dodged it!" I point to the screen.
Midoriya stands back up and Bakugo runs towards him. "I wanna hurt you so bad, they'll have to stop the fight!" Bakugo says over the static filled speaker.
He aims an attack at Midoriya, which he dodges and wraps around his arm and neck, flipping Bakugo over his back and onto the ground.
Everyone gasps as Bakugo stands back up and looks at Midoriya, small sparks flying off of his hand and vanishing in the air.
"You're so weak and pathetic, but you insist on fighting back!" Bakugo growls. "That's why I hate you!"
All Might turns the speaker off, forcing us to watch the fight silently. On a different screen Iida throws his arms around annoyed.
"I don't know who's talking to who now," I groan looking at the screen.
"Yeah, can we get the sound back on this video?" Kirishima asks.
"I gave them an ear piece so they can talk to their partners along with a map of the building," All Might holds up a roll of tape. "And some capture tape. Wrapping this around your opponent means they're out for the rest of the time."
"So there's a fifteen minute timer and the heros don't know which floor the weapon is located on, right?" Ashido asks.
"Then the heros are at a disadvantage, a big one."
"Real pros have to outwit villains on a daily basis," All Might says looking back at the screen. "That's life. Even when the odds aren't in out favor, we fight!"
"He's on the move," Aoyama points out and everyone turns their attention back to the screen.
Midoriya yells something and Uraraka runs away, down a hallway. Bakugo uses his explosions to boost himself and send a round house kick to the side of Midoriya's head, but he blocks it.
Midoriya tries to wrap some of the capture tape around Bakugo, once he notices he sends another punch which Midoriya ducks away from.
Sero pumps his fists in the air. "He's holding his own and he hasn't even used his quirk yet."
When the smoke clears from Bakugo's punch Midoriya stands up and runs around a corner. Bakugo runs after him but loses him which leads to Bakugo to start yelling.
"He's completely forgotten about Uraraka," I say.
"Correct," All Might studies the screen. "Without someone on her back, Young Uraraka has full range to look for the weapon."
Uraraka approaches the room where Iida is protecting the weapon. She tries to stay hidden behind the wall but Iida spots her causing her to walk out into the open.
Midoriya stops running on a different video and leans against a wall to catch his breath. Both him and Uraraka hold their hand up to their ear, signalling they're talking to each other through the ear pieces.
When they stop Midoriya stands up to find Bakugo standing behind him. Bakugo holds up one of his hands, pointing one of his grenades at Midoriya. He pulls back a piece of metal on them to reveal a trigger.
All Might holds the microphone up to his mouth. "Young Bakugo! Don't do it, you'll kill him!"
Bakugo pulls the trigger and flames explode out of the grenade, shaking even the monetary room.
"Whoa! This is insane!" Kirishima yells over the noise.
"Come in! Come in Young Midoriya!" All Might yells into the mic.
On the screen, the smoke clears and it shows a hole had been blown into the side of the building.
Midoriya's helmet is completely gone and his body suit is even more ripped up. He sits up as Bakugo walks through the smoke towards him.
On another screen Uraraka and Iida are running at each other until Uraraka makes herself float over Iida's head through the weapon. As Uraraka's falling down towards the weapon Iida uses his speed to move it out of her way before she can touch it.
Back on the other screen, Bakugo smiles while he taunts and threatens Midoriya.
"Sir, isn't this getting out of hand?" Kirishima asks.
"Yeah, Bakugo is acting crazy. He'll end up kill Midoriya." I add looking back at the screen.
All Might thinks for a moment before speaking into the mic. "Young Bakugo, use that stored up power again, and I will stop this fight. You're team will lose."
On the screen Bakugo looks up, signalling he can hear All Might.
"To deploy such a strong hit indoors is inviting the stronghold you should be protecting. It's a poor strategy whether you're a hero or a villain, the plenty will be a massive lost of points."
Bakugo looks down, his shoulders shaking.
"He's about to throw a bitch fit."
"Language, Young (L/N)."
Bakugo uses his explosions to give him a boost as he runs towards Midoriya, punching him. Midoriya blocks the punch and Bakugo flips over him, send an explosion into Midoriya's back.
Everyone gasps as Midoriya gets swallowed by flames.
"He doesn't seem like the type to have a strategy, but he's actually quite intelligence," Someone says behind us in a quiet voice. Kirishima, Sero and I turn to look at Todoroki.
"What are you talking about?"
"He changed his project mid air, using another blast as a smoke screen." Todoroki explains.
"An attack like that requires a lot of precision. He would have to know the chemistry and control he has over his quirk," Yaoyorozu adds on.
Bakugo uses a left hook, slamming his grenade into Midoriya's elbow before grabbing it and flipping him over his shoulder, slamming Midoriya onto the ground.
"All he has to do is wrap tape around him!" Mina exclaims. "Not kill him!"
Midoriya begins running away from Bakugo. Finding himself at a wall where Bakugo begins walking towards him. The both of them run at each other at the same time.
Flames come out of Bakugo's hand as Midoriya recoils his arm in a punch, no doubt about to use his quirk.
"They're gonna kill each other, Sir!" Kirishima yells.
All Might yells into the mic. "Both of you, stop right now!"
Right before the two of them touch Midoriya changes his position to punch upwards, changing the direction of the air. The ceiling above them cracks and breaks going through all the floors.
On another camera the floor breaks in between Iida and Uraraka sending rubble which Uraraka uses to float and send towards Iida as she floats towards the weapon. Landing on top of it.
With both of his arms broken, Midoriya falls down and passes out as All Might holds the mic up to his mouth before yelling.
"The hero team wins!" A buzzer rings out.
"What weird way for this to end," Kaminari says. "The losers are basically untouched and the winners are both on the floor."
All Might leaves to make sure Midoriya is taken to Recovery Girl. When he returns we review the match.
"Well it's clear," All Might says, pausing the video. "The real MVP of this match is young Iida."
The class looks at him confused. "Shouldn't it be one of the heros since they're the winners?" Asui asks.
"A valid question! Any guesses?"
I squint. "She asked you for a reason-"
"Sir!" Yaoyorozu raises her hand. "Iida was the only one who fully adapted himself into his role." Yaoyorozu goes into detail on her explanation and All Might nods
He holds a thumbs up. "You overlooked a few things, but other than that you nailed it!"
All Might walks over to the boxes. "Now let's start our next round. Remember what you saw last round and learn from it."
He pulls out two letters. "Team I will be the villains and team B will be the heros."
The fight between I and B team was over in under six minutes, resulting in B team's victory.
After reviewing the fight, It was Sero my turn as villains against team H.
Sero dispenses tape from his elbows all around the weapon. The room now looks like a spider web.
"Didn't know I was on a team with Spider man." I tease, summoning my marionette controllers.
"Har har," Sero walks towards the door leading out into the hallway. "What are you thinking?" He asks.
The weapon is located on the third floor in the back right corner.
"One of us has to stay," I state the obvious and he nods. "If one of us goes then it'll be a 1v2 fight, and we still don't have a strong understanding of their quirks which could put us a disadvantage."
"So you're saying we should just stay put until they find us? That could take forever, we're in a corner." He says.
"If the timer goes off, we win. There's no point in running out there to fight them with a chance we could just get captured when we can just wait for time to run out."
He sighs and covers the door way with tape, layering it a few times. I wrap all eight of my strings around the weapon, pulling on it. I stop when it makes a loud scraping noise against the ground.
"Nice going, Puppet Master."
"Hush, don't let your guard down."
I let go of the weapon and stand in front of it, watching the doorway. At least seven minutes have gone by when I hear thumbing below us.
"Sero!" I whisper yell. He looks at me and I point to the ground, he nods.
The ground cracks a little and I gasp as I feel it become uneven. I wrap all eight of my strings around the weapon, pulling on my controllers.
The ground cracks more. "(L/N)!" Tape wraps around my waist pulling on me. As I'm pulled away I pull on my controllers, moving the weapon away from the collapsing floor and slamming it into a wall.
I land in Sero's arms, he holds me bridal style for a second before setting me down.
"I'll try to move the weapon, fight them and waste as much time as possible," I say running towards the weapon.
When I reach the weapon, a box of tape covers me. Being trapped in the box of tape I stand on top of the now tipped over weapon. At least three minutes had to of passed, leaving less than five minutes remaining.
A tear begins to appear in the tape. I send four strings out, wrapping around the person breaking the tape. I assume it to be Asui because of how light the being is. I pull and push on the controller making it to seem like Asui is trying to get inside the box of tape so her partner, who I assume is fighting Sero, doesn't become concerned and intervene.
I pull Asui into the box and wrap the capture tape around her before releasing my strings.
"Sorry, Asui." I go to stand back on the weapon.
A buzzer sounds through the room before All Might's voice does.
"The time has run out! The villain team wins!"
I sigh with relief and put away my controllers before walking towards Asui and undoing the tape.
Asui and I meet back up with Sero and Tokoyami We both walk back to our partners.
Sero and I high-five. "I got worried when I saw Asui making her way towards you."
I wave my hand dismissively. "It's fine. Thanks for making that box of tape, don't know how we would've won without it."
Sero takes of his helmet, his bangs sticking to his forehead because of sweat.
He smiles and scratches his neck.
No one has permission to post this as their own.
Take Your Daddy To School Day
This is my entry for the lovely @footballffbarbiex’s writing challenge 🤍 thank you so much for letting me take part, I hope you all enjoy it and please go and have a look if it’s something that you might be interested in - there’s some lovely prompts still to choose from x
It’s been a good what...seventeen, maybe eighteen, years since Trent was sat on the yellow table in the Hedgehogs Class? The classroom still has exactly the same name and layout as it did when he was there all those years ago. The same blue felt tip stain on the bottom of one of the walls from where the boy in the year above ‘accidentally’ wrote his name in his four-year-old squiggly handwriting, and the water tray still being full of the same plastic dinosaurs that he used to chase his friends with when it was time for creative play. The name pegs by the front windows are still where they used to be too. Teeny tiny wooden hedgehogs glued above the multicoloured hooks, a white label stuck beneath them with all of the children’s names on. And obviously your little girl’s coat and bag hang on the first peg, just like Trent’s used to, because they’re ordered alphabetically, a wave of nostalgia hitting him because he used to love hanging his belongings there as it meant he was the first to leave at the end of the day - and it just so happens that your little girl has also picked up on her daddy’s habits when it comes to wanting to get out of there as soon as possible.
“Put your knees under the table, daddy” she’s tutting as T does everything he can to squash them under the yellow-topped desk without accidentally flipping it and sending the pot of scissors, glue sticks and blunt pencils across the room. His cheeks turning a dark shade of pink when your little girl’s teacher spots him shuffling around awkwardly and trying to disguise the fact that he’s in absolute agony, only intensifying when your daughter insists on pointing out daddy’s ‘raspberry face’ to the little boy sat on the table behind. But eventually he’s managing to do it, although the little plastic chair he’s sat on is now threatening to collapse, the metal legs bowing slightly each time he leans more to one side to help your little girl with her work or has to turn around when one of the children gasps and points before not so quietly whispering ‘that’s the man that kicks a football’.
“Daddy, you can do this one” she’s announcing as they plough their way through the worksheet they’ve been given to complete by lunchtime. “But I’ve just done all of these ones” he’s giggling as he points to the group of maths questions he’s just answered because he knows your little girl struggles with her numbers and he’s too soft to let her sit and find the answer on her own. “But you’re cleverer than me” she smiles, hoping that her compliment persuades Trent to write the answer down, not that he needs any sort of persuasion because he’s already scribbling down the answer, but she’s already picked up on the fact that if you’re nice to people, they’ll be nice to you - something she definitely uses to her advantage.
They’re both managing to finish the work before the bell rings for lunch, a miracle really since they've been interrupted every two minutes by one of other dads having a fangirl moment or one of the mums trying their best to impress Trent with their very limited football knowledge, obviously hoping that he’s blown away by it and runs off into the sunset with them. But regardless, they’re getting it done in time and heading off to the lunch hall together hand in hand. Trent carrying both of their lunch boxes and politely waving to the screaming children in the classrooms they walk past, your little girl still too innocent to understand why daddy attracts so much attention, hence the string of ‘why are they shouting at yous?’ as they make their way into the dining hall.
They’re sitting opposite each other on one of the collapsible tables with little blue seats. The smell of whatever unappetising it is being served for lunch filling their noses and making Trent feel quite sick, acting as a reminder as to why he refused to eat school dinners and instead stuck to his cream cheese sandwiches that were wrapped up in his Spider-Man lunch box. “Cheers” your little girl’s giggling as she smashes her jam sandwich against Trent’s tuna one, both of them cut into tiny little squares which T had begged you not to do, but it’s not really a ‘take your dad to school day’ if he doesn’t eat the same as the children, is it? Which is exactly why the Liverpool shirt shaped lunch box he picked up from the club shop on the way home from training the other night is full of a packet of Mini Cheddars, a strawberry Frube yoghurt (even though he tried to pretend that he didn’t like them), two tangerines to try and balance out the sugar in the Mr Kipling angel cake, and a Capri Sun which he has no shame in admitting that he absolutely loves.
Their twenty minute playtime afterwards is consisting of Trent taking on the rest of the school in a football match, but obviously it’s not cool to be seen playing football with your dad in front of all of your friends, hence why your little girl is deciding to engage in a very in-depth discussion about last night’s episode of Peppa Pig instead, occasionally turning around to see if T’s still winning, which obviously he is, despite having about a hundred children slide tackling into him and pulling his shirt. “Are you not proud of me?” he’s saying jokingly as he makes his way off the pitch and over to your baby girl who’s pretending that she can’t see Trent leaping around in front of all of her friends, all because he beat a bunch of five year olds at his own job. “Daddy, stop!” she’s giggling, grateful for the few curls around the edge of her face that mask her blushing cheeks because seeing your daddy show everyone up is one thing, but now having him flexing about it is another.
They’re making their way back to the Hedgehogs Class when the bell rings to signal the end of lunchtime. A few parents leaping in front of the two of them on the way to congratulate Trent on his most recent performances and awards, causing even more confusion for your little girl because since when has the whole world known about daddy and his job? And why is Jacob’s mummy, who always causes a scene in the playground when she sees someone wearing a football shirt because it’s ‘tacky’ and ‘the most pathetic sport’, suddenly so interested in a game that she tells everyone she hates? Or is she just interested in Trent? Who knows.
The two of them are spending the rest of the day doing creative play, flicking between playing with the dinosaurs in the water table, to making you a card for no other reason than because they love you, to creating one another out of red and yellow PlayDoh - something Trent won’t be doing again because he’s convinced himself that he looks like the slightly disfigured model that your daughter has made - one foot three times the size of the other, an unfortunate bulge on the top of his head, and arms that are extremely long and skinny. And his doubts aren’t going away because your little girl keeps reinforcing the fact that ‘it’s you, daddy’, much to the amusement of all of the other parents who giggle away at how disappointed and awkward he looks after being compared to crusty piece of five-year-old PlayDoh.
“I had fun with you being a big boy at school today” she’s saying as she walks hand in hand with Trent over to her peg, his dad instinct coming out as he helps her put her coat on and pack her book bag. “Did you?” he’s asking, his heart melting into a puddle when she nods her head and gives him a little smile. “I had so much fun too, even if you did splash me at the water table” he’s saying, tickling her sides and making her giggle at the memory of the plastic dinosaur ‘accidentally’ dropping from above her head right into the water in front of him. “Shall we go and tell mummy about today then?” he’s saying as he reaches down and takes her hand in his before the two of them are stepping out into the playground together, your little girl bursting with excitement ready to tell you all about their day and how Trent now has a gold star stuck on the wall for being the ‘cleverest at knowing all of the dinosaurs’ names’.
Please recommend some of your fav Rio fics!
Of course, anon! Since you asked for Rio fics, I'm going to guess you meant Rio POV fics? If not, I'm sorry, haha, because that's what I've collated, but I hope you give these a shot regardless! They're all fics I think are pretty great. ;-)
Below a cut, because this got long.
But when he does reappear at the store—she still doesn't hear him coming, she needs to work on that—she's wearing a fuckin' dress, and he's glad she hasn't seen him yet because he can't stop himself from grinning.
Maybe it ain't for him, but given the fact that he doesn't think he's seen her legs since he came back—aside from that one night at the bar when she was definitely feeling herself—it seems like this is an intentional break in the pattern. Either way, he fuckin' loves the idea that she's been dressing up all week, not sure if he's coming but wanting to be ready if he does.
Now Use Both Hands by ms_scarlet / @mego42
6k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.
Ooooof, this fic causes me physical pain, but I love it a whole lot. Meg really captures Beth and Rio at their most acidic, their most sharp edged, while also managing to balance that with the feelings they desperately don’t want to have. It’s a bit magic, and the fact that she follows this up with another fave, Listening Through the Air Shaft is *chef’s kiss*.
- - - -
When he wakes, he's in a hospital bed, mouth dry as bone and he can taste blood, stale and metallic, on his tongue. The pain in his chest has been dulled by the drugs, but it still lingers, a persistent ache that spikes with every breath.
By all rights, he's a dead man walking.
Ten hours, they had him in surgery. From the look of his chart, he'd flatlined twice, and he can feel the consequences of that, see it in the bruises on his chest, the exhaustion lining the faces of his family. He'd woken to a little hand in his, Pop's cheeks damp with tears, and shit, it'd been close. Too close.
Bury a Friend by @ejunkiet
>1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.
Pivoting from 3.01, this fic is a wonderful, quiet character study that looks at Rio in the aftermath of the shooting before he explodes back into Beth’s life. It pulses with emotion and with the promise of catharsis, and it’s just a really special little fic. The Rio voice is terrific too.
- - - -
He finally gets what he needs one day when Elizabeth’s wearing this tight black sweater with a keyhole that shows off just enough to make Rio’s jaw rock. It’s so out of the ordinary, so unlike her ugly li’l sweaters or her surburban mama button-ups, he does a double take, head whippin’ around so fast that she catches it immediately. Then she catches where his gaze lands, where it keeps landin’ through their whole stilted, irritated conversation, and he sees her chest pinken til he can count her freckles. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, and her lips fall open just the smallest bit, and then she looks up at him.
Eyes locked on each other, Rio takes a step closer. Elizabeth doesn’t back away.
I Will Collect You and Capture You by @foxmagpie
17k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio S3 canon divergence.
I feel like I've recced this fic 1,200 times at this point, haha, but it really is one of my favourite fics in the fandom. It has this sort of grip on you as a reader that almost embodies Beth's grip on Rio in the story, and the way it builds and builds and releases only to build and build again is really delicious, affecting writing.
- - - -
“Com’n her and her lady friends were shakin’”
“Shakin’ about the lemon on the fuckin’ granite, sure.”
They chuckled as the car rolled on, the suburbs slipping away with the sun.
“Think they’ll pay up?”
There was a groan as Rio shifted in his seat, flexing his fingers along the dash.
“Neighborhood like this? Everybody knows someone who knows someone with a trust fund.”
Mick’s lighter flickered, followed by long, rasping inhale. “And a boat.”
Smoke swirled lazily through the open window up into the purple sky.
“And a boat.” Echoed Rio.
Drivin' through the Suburbs by gangfriend / @00gangfriend00
5k words. Teen+. Mick + Rio friendship, Beth x Rio. Canon compliant.
It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud in a fic, but this one does multiple times. It's just insanely fun, and captures Rio and Mick at their most boyish in a way I find utterly charming. It's really, really delightful.
- - - -
She’s got her crimes wrapped up and categorized in folders with labels and post-its. Wrapped up in gift paper with a big blue bow on it. And she’ll probably ask Turner do you want freshly baked cookies or some shit when they go raiding her kitchen.
Rio should really get it under control. Her, get her under control.
She opens the door and slumps onto the front seat, her eyes set angrily on him. Nineteen voicemails and she’s still got things to say: he sees it in the twitch of her hand, the restless, frustrated pattern. Any minute now she’s going to settle on new words to voice her complaints like he’s here to listen. Like he’s got the time— like he cares. Like he’d better.
It’s a Work Thing by isoldewas
>1k words. Mature. Beth x Rio. 2.12 canon divergent.
I'm a bit of a sucker for a good canon divergent fic, and this one pivots the car break up in 2.12 in a smutty way that just works unfairly well. It's such a great little fic that really settles well into Rio's headspace during the messiness of s2, and I love it.
- - - -
They settle in their respective places and Rio takes the opportunity to give Elizabeth the same once over that asshole did. Her ass really does look great in those pants and she could fill out any shirt. Her eyes linger over him too, tracing his skin, the bar tattoos peeking out from under his t-shirt that she’s seen a million times but she devours at every opportunity. Then her eyes meet his and she gives him that small, crooked lil’ smile.
He’s not one for religion, but every so often he takes his mom to Spanish mass. All the viejitos and pious Catholic types think he’s a banger but his ma’s still excited to show him off. He sits with her in the pew and when the priest asks for the congregation to give thanks to God, he says a prayer for the riches that have come to him, the health and brilliance of his son, the vitality of the other little ones in his life now, and Elizabeth. And when he thinks of her in those moments, he sees her in his mind’s eye with this exact look on her face.
A Bit of a Stretch by @septiembrre
5k words. Teen+. Beth x Rio. Established relationship.
Beth and Rio do a yoga class together! There’s such a lived-in feel to this fic that it feels impossible not to fall a bit in love with it – their relationship is explored in a way that feels true to who the characters are, while sanding down the edges to create something that feels sweet in the way they usually aren’t in canon. It's a great fic, but more than that, it really just works in a way that's a lot more complicated than it looks, and it’s all the more charming for it.
- - - -
He’s happy to keep kissing her like this. To savour it. Realises she’s undone the last few buttons of his shirt at some point as she shoves it down his shoulders. Doesn’t have a second to think about his ugly scars pressed to her skin. Can just feel her little hot palms snaking up his back and grippin’ him tight. Refusing to let any light between them as they kiss for what feels like hours.
He realises these are the lips he’s been tasting. Searching for in other women when his night’s got too unbearably quiet, hunting for an echo of the thing he really wanted. Comin’ up short every damn time. Sweet and soft and lethal. Unique to her.
It’s longing in a way he’s never felt. This is the taste of it.
As Good as This by @riosnecktattoo
5k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. 4.05 canon divergence.
Okay, I know I just said how much I loved canon divergence fics, but it bears repeating – I love canon divergence fics, haha. This is such a great alternate take on how the wire scene in 4.05 goes down, and it simmers with tension from the opening line. The way it escalates as Rio navigates this newest betrayal works really well too, and it results in a pretty sexy and surprisingly emotional sequence. Magic!
- - - -
“Do we have a deal?” She asks.
When he turns to look at her she’s smiling, and that’s when he realizes he’s absolutely fucked. He’d just fucked himself out of almost a quarter of a million dollars. He lets his eyes drop down her body, licks his lips and nods.
“I choose the place,” he says and turns on his side to face her. “You owe me half - with interest,” he says and slides a hand into her hair. She’s damp, the sweat slowly cooling.
“That’s not what - “ she opens her mouth to protest and he takes that opportunity to slide his mouth across hers and lick into her mouth.
Long Nights by zetuslapetus / @querenaxx
2k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.
Rio and Beth bone while negotiating a deal! What's not to love, haha. This has such a fun checks and balances feel to it which just makes me want to peel my skin off, it's so good. It's exactly the way I like my Beth and Rio - hot and snarky and constantly trying to get a leg over the other, literally and figuratively. It's the best.
- - - -
He should go out and find someone to fuck. Maybe text one of his hookups. See if Jen’s working. He has options.
He knows what he should do.
But it turns out fucking other people is a worse hell than the one they create when they’re together.
And now that he’s yielded to this wicked ecstasy, he knows he’ll do anything to keep sitting in the fire with her.
To Sit in Hell with You by @daydreamstew
2k words. Beth x Rio. Explicit. s4 canon divergence.
Canon-divergent from 4.06 – Beth and Rio keep hooking up after the time at his grandma’s place. It’s fun and sexy while also keeping the complicated push-pull and lack of communication at the heart of them. Deeelightful.
- - - -
“Does it make it easier?” Maddie asks him once they’re spent, maybe emboldened because he has already brought her into their bed. Which may be unfair, because Lee had been in their bed from the beginning.
“What?” He seems lost in his thoughts, his arm behind his head. In a few minutes he’ll get up and get ready to get back to the factory. Like always, she’ll be looking for her keys so she won’t be late for work.
“Getting it out of your system before you see her.”
Rio glances at her. “I don’t always see you when I see her.”
It’s so rare for him to explicitly mention this woman, however tenuously, and Maddie waits for more. Rio’s gotten like this about a few women in his life but it doesn’t happen often.
Sure am Using You by aniara
2k words. Explicit. Rio x OC, Rio x Beth.
It's not for everyone, but I absolutely love fics that feature characters with other people in ways that tell you something about the characters' feelings about somebody else. In this fic, Rio's fucking one of his childhood friends, but it's all about Beth really, and the way both Rio and the OC negotiate that is really compelling writing, and feels so in character for Rio. I really love it.
- - - -
Rio dreams of her that night, again. It’s irritatingly pedestrian – Elizabeth’s kissing him deep and then, ah, suddenly his gun’s in her hand and she shoots him, with a double encore. It’s always variations on the same futile theme. When he wakes it’s not that he’s freaked, unaware of reality or his whereabouts. But he’s been soaked in anger for so long. He can’t think straight, not on her. It’s honestly terrifying. Cos stubbornly keeping his head on right is – that’s him. Maybe her entire raison d’etre is destroying every single one of his attributes though.
He ain’t sure if his subconscious is desperately screaming that he’s made the wrong move, letting her live. Or if it’s the total opposite. Could be fucking neither. It’s not – it’s not getting any easier. And that main reason for not biting the bullet, that he’d be mad as hell for being mad as hell at himself over killing her, it's not smelling any less idiotic.
Climbing up the Walls by s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe
8k words. Explicit. Beth x Rio. S3 canon divergence.
Another canon divergence from 2.13 and an interpretation of how s3 could've gone, and another one I really love. There's a throughline of chaotic frustration to this fic that rings true to Rio's character for me, and the way that that reverberates through his moments not just with Beth, but alone and with other women, feels really textured and interesting and real. It's pretty great.
Sooo… Superman and the Authority?
magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority
Give it to me...lol
Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.
Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?
This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:
* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.
* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.
* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.
* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.
* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.
* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.
Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.
* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.
* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.
* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.
* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.
* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.
* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.
* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.
* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile
@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”
* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.
* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!
* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:
"Now it's your turn, Superman."
* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!
* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.
* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.
* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.
* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.
* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.
* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:
"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."
"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"
* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.
* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:
Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.
* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)
Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*
* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.
Nightwing #80 spoilers
Okay. Okay okay okay - i thought my two cents were gonna be art related only, but there were some story/character elements that i also have comments about. That being said, this is mostly me gushing over the art
This is also insanely long. Enjoy!
First off, we have the gorgeous cover. The 'chalk' outlines swirling around Dick until they mash together into a tunneling circle under his torso gives the very clear vibes that he's falling, rather than sitting. The 'glitch' effect on both the outlines and Dick is a really nice touch (and tbh i'm getting Spiderverse vibes). It's all very impactful in a physical sense. It looks/feels like an out of body experience.
His eyes are closed, too...a small but interesting detail. The pose in general is makes him look really shocked as well, which is cool. Also? Bruno Redondo's grasp on anatomy & foreshortening is simply incredible. Look at that shit. Perfection.
The colors are bold and vibrant as usual. The cover has a lot going on, but not in a distracting way. Everything is clear and relatively easy to look at (even if it is a bit of a strain). I also love how the Nightwing symbol is actually in the title
I've said it before and I'll say it again - I adore how they're using stippling for things that aren't meant to be focused on even if they're in the foreground. It's really clever - along with how black lines are used for basic shading while the rest of him is in flats, the foreground is easy to look at without being eye-catching, so that the main subject (Bitewing) is the first thing the reader looks at.
Also i love the scarring details - the old bullet wounds are such a nice touch. Idk why it caught my attention so much but it did. This man has been through shit, and it's good to have a physical representation of that
And Bitewing's barks are in blue - that's so cute.
When I first saw this panel, the shading really stood out to me. It seemed weird that, after several issues of shading on faces being realistic, it would suddenly be angular and unrealistic to the current light source
And it's such a small detail that can easily be overlooked, but when I noticed it my brain went !!!!!!! because it's such a good fucking detail
The shading on his face is in the shape of his domino mask. It shows that Nightwing is bleeding through right here, that it's not just Dick Grayson who's reacting, and that's really, really, really clever
GORGEOUS. that’s all i have to say here
Not only is Bruno Redondo popping off with his general grasp of anatomy and such, he’s also flexing realistic facial expressions and body language. Just these two panels are absolutely phenomenal
I can’t think of the right word to describe his expression, but y’all know what it’s conveying. And it conveys it perfectly. We know exactly what Dick is feeling right now from just his face, and that takes fuckin skill.
And then his posture in the second panel - it’s defensive, but not overly so. It’s also what people do when they’re making an important phonecall with other in the room. He went to the furthest point from the cops while still being in view, then turned his back for extra privacy. Then he glanced over his shoulder at them as he was like ‘yeah im being accused of murder’, which is super realistic.
It adds another layer to the readers’ involvement in the comic - when the characters do these little actions and faces that are what we’d see in real life, it makes the comic feel more real. It makes the characters more real. It makes us more invested in them since we connect better
This. This made me happy tbh. I love that this implies that Dick recognized that him being a cop wasn't doing shit, and that it was too corrupt for him to fix, and he actually left. Love that for him.
I also love how he said that to the cops' faces lmao, you go Dick (if you’re confused, when he says ‘criminals’ he’s referring to the cops)
I’ve seen some other people point this out too - Dick is a novelty mug collector. I will be adding this to my fics promptly. I also love how these are mugs that exist in-universe. I mean, a Gotham Rogues mug? I gotta get me one of those
This whole page circles back to the incredible facial expressions and body language. As the conversation goes on, their faces change. And it matches the dialogue.
And the shifts in their expressions aren’t big - they’re subtle, which is even better. Just like I mentioned before, you can kinda see what they’re thinking/feeling. And just the way they fluidly change between panels is just UGH yes
Also Dick & Babs’ ‘its complicated’ faces. You can see the “honestly idk” and “we’re not putting a label on it”. The detail of how Dick’s shoulders raise right there is perfect. And them just being a total power duo right here - i’m thriving
Okay so the only Nightwing issues I have ever read in my life are #79 to this one. So I don't know if this has already been established. And maybe it's been said in the issues I've read and I just straight up forgot. If so, feel free to ignore this section bc I'm going to be overanalyzing this to hell and back - possibly unnecessarily
To my understanding, Dick has been living in this apartment for like, a while now. That's what I thought. Yet it looks like he moved in less than a week ago, if that.
The furniture is sparse and haphazardly strewn around. There are unopened boxes everywhere. The tables and cabinets have absolutely nothing on top of them. except for some basic stuff that can be shoved in pockets. There isn't anything...personal. The only sign of this place being an actual home is the rug next to the bed.
Of course, that could be due to the construction. It looks like Dick is putting floorboards in, maybe along with something else that's out of view here. But then again, if that were the case then the second floor would have a lot more stuff.
It's all just very...lonely. Then again, maybe he simply hasn't gotten around to unpacking/furnishing yet (ADHD Grayson lookin mighty canon rn folks), or he just moved in.
Also, how fucking low are Blüdhaven apt. prices? Like?? Fuck, bro, that place is HUGE. And Dick got this place before he received his part of Alfred's will, so either the apartment is super cheap, or his current job pays really well
y'all we are getting FED.
the fact that Bruce is in the group chat and at least sees what's going on, even if he doesn't interact, and decides to partake in the joke? And asked Tim to give Dick the wallet chain? FUCK, bro, i LOVE it. I lowkey hope this is a reoccurring gag that each character brings up if/when they get a cameo. The family dynamics right now...the crumbs...
Side note! Every time I see Tim in the Robin suit I want to lose my fucking mind and throttle the jackass that regressed him. that being said, I absolutely adore his uniform's design, it's just so good
I love everything about this panel. Specifically, how Dick is just casually jumping off of this roof without a grapple/escrima (i love how the two are combined) in hand, and how he looks like he’d just be jumping down to a lower level instead of hundreds of feet of open air.
Just the ease and grace and pure comfort he has. It’s little things like this that showcase how used to the vigilante life the Bats are, and how skilled Dick is
Also I can’t help imagining what that feels like...freefalling, watching the ground come up to meet you while the buildings whisk by...hearing the wind whipping around you...knowing that if you don’t catch yourself in time that’ll be it...knowing that you can catch yourself...yeah...
Woo train surfing bonding time for everyone’s favorite brother duo! The soft blues right now really add to the calm feel that this is a little bit of down time for them. They’re just hanging out and talking. No danger, no urgency. This right here isn’t main plot, so it’s not active, but it’s just as important
I appreciate how even in this wide shot Tim & Dick still have weight and momentum in their forms. It looks like they’re on top of a moving train, instead of just chilling on a stationary one
A meeting in Gotham, he says? I’m looking forward to seeing that - hopefully in the next issue
And boom, as soon as we’re back to talking about the main plot, the warmer colors are being used again. It’s the little things
Look at how in synch they are!!! Just from these two panels it’s clear to the reader that they’ve worked together a lot, and that they’re comfortable around each other. Again, it’s the little things
Dick had better fuckin not. If he ends up being unable to take care of the Bitewing, he should make sure that she goes directly to a loving home that can support her to the fullest.
Or...maybe Dick will end up giving Bitewing to Elliot if he doesn’t keep her. That’s an idea 👀
One thing I’m really appreciating with these issues is how they’re really embracing the fact that this is a comic. It has all these little accentuating things that add to the feel as a whole. It’s fun! Like this little cartoony Babs speech bubble - I can almost see it popping into existence and then rocking back and forth as she speaks, I dig it
Again, with the expressions! Look at Tim’s lil cringe! And his lil embarrassed blush! Love it
Tim being a social butterfly! We love to see it. Literally two panels ago he hasn't even talked to these kids yet, and an hour later he's in their little group. He knows their names! And they told him about taco night! And Tim actually had a chat with Elliot! I wish we could have seen at least some of that, it would've been interesting
In too many fanworks I see Tim as socially awkward/incompetent (i'm guilty of this as well, I'm trying to fix that in my fics - sorry Tim), when he's a social chameleon
Also, that shot of Dick on the rooftop...pretty. Love how the bg buildings are pink - I actually love how reds/oranges/pinks & purples/blues are main shades in these issues. You don't see that a lot in comics, I think, especially not in ones with a male lead. Not only is it gorgeous, but it also adds an emotional effect. It's not harsh. It's almost kind - yet still active and vibrant. I think there's something to be said about how the color palette reflects Dick as a person
All I have to say about this is 👀👀👀👀
Y’all holy FUCK. A villain. A male villain. A big manly male villain. A big manly male villain who’s weapon is PINK. Vibrant, aggressive, in your face pink.
holy shit??? Maybe I’m just being dramatic (likely), but male villains, especially male villains that look like this guy never have a ‘feminine’ color for their main accent/weapon. I have literally never seen that in my life. Adriano Lucas i’m in love with you, this is such a bold and perfect choice. Keep up the good work, king
Again with the classic superhero comic effects! This made me snort when I first saw it - and I still smile at it. It’s just...fun. The comic isn’t taking itself too seriously, and that actually helps the reader like it more and want more. Comics that act like they’re hot shit are, if anything, annoying. You need lighthearted and comedic stuff sprinkled in at the right places for a comic to be at its best.
So these issues are really like a breath of fresh air.
Oh, this shot is just *chefs kiss*. The moon, the light starry sky (i’m gonna talk about that in a bit), the angle, the fact that Dick is casually standing on a telephone wire, his confident smirk, even the shoes strung up there are a nice realistic touch
I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but the pink, guys. The pink. Even Electrocutioner’s action ‘bubble’ is completely pink. Love. It.
THIS IS SO COOL??? WHAT THE FUCK??? Dude Dick's escrimas connect? And then extend?? Into a functional staff???? I'm loving it!
The sequence looks like an instructions from a manual - it's a really fluid & fun way of showing exactly how the escrimas create the staff. It gives me the same vibes as a Lego booklet. I also like how the colors are flats, and the texture over them only enhances the instructional feel. I can almost hear the 'chk-click-schk'
Also Dick clearly notices that Tim is going into this battle weaponless. He immediately, like he wastes zero time in disarming himself to make sure Tim has the best chance at beating these guys' asses. And now I'm wondering if Dick purposefully designed the escrimas to connect so that Tim can have his signature weapon in a pinch, just in case.
These crumbs are starting to make a full sandwich
Oh, this. This is beautiful.
Pink is the primary color here (can y’all tell pink is my favorite color), which again, I feel like you never see that in comics, let alone male centric ones. And the streaky shading on the knives & ground adds a more dramatic & active effect to the scene.
And not a single part of this is calm. Every line is moving, every person is in a state of action, and it’s all clear-cut and blended in a really pleasing way
THIS. THIS THIS THIS. THIS A THOUSAND TIMES. I. Fucking. Love sequences like this.
Their coordination. Their efficiency. Their utter trust in each others' ability to take down their respective opponents. The way they don't even have to look at each other or have a battle plan to execute a perfect joint takedown. Simply immaculate.
The defined action in an engaging sequence that shows exactly what's happening in fluid movements is perfect. The tiny spiky bubble w/ stars in it when Tim kicks Brutale & the startled lines right before he kicks Electrocutioner? Fantastic. Brilliant. 100/10.
this panel...so gorgeous. Dick is back in a traditionally female pose, but not in a sexualizing way (tangent! i appreciate how he hasn’t been over-sexualized in these issues. And there hasn’t been any emphasis on his ass, thank fuck. Good job, artists). The first thing that pops into my mind isn’t “yeah yeah he’s sexy i get it”. I think about how he looks utterly graceful. His movement is fluid, and light. there’s a clear line of action here that’s pleasing to the eye. This is just a beautiful panel all around. Especially with the firelight reflecting off of him
That’s Damian on stilts, I just know it.
I’m thinking that maybe, mayhaps maybe perchance, that this guy is somehow connected to Flatline. Cause like...the coincidence of there suddenly being two characters in Batfam comics that have the shared habit/ability of ripping out people’s hearts is weird. And they’re both antagonists, too. Am I the only one who’s thinking that it’s not really a coincidence?
‘Cause there’s that, and then Brutale is hopping over to Damian’s comic, apparently, and it’s just...the parallels/connections are there, y’know? Idk, my brain is just squinting suspiciously at all of this.
Okay so earlier I mentioned I was gonna talk about how sky is always in light shades, even when it’s the sun has fully set.
So. In these issues, a huge thing is that Blüdhaven is never portrayed as dark and gloomy. Not once. It’s colorful, lively, and all of the shades are brighter than you’d expect.
Not only is it visually stunning, it reflects Dick’s relationship with Nightwing and the city.
Gotham is pretty much always gloomy. It’s dark, smoggy, and visually oppressive. And Batman blends in with it - he matches it. The city looks like it’s past saving, and it’s clearly consumed Bruce to the point where the two are functionally interchangeable.
But Blüdhaven? It looks like hope. Yeah, it’s a shitty city, but it’s not past saving. It’s still worth it. Dick hasn’t been consumed by it - he doesn’t look like Blüdhaven, and Blüdhaven doesn’t look like him. They’re not one in the same, there’s a separation. And Dick sees/knows that. Whether it’s consciously or not, he does recognize it.
“you don’t have to get up, I’ll get it for you” either Abigaar or nategaar...or all three if you so choose....
I have found a way to be okay with Nategail and it is through Skwisgaar, literally and figuratively.
“Skwisgaar. Abigail. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“We didn’t agree to meet with you.” Abigail raised her sweatpanted legs out of Skwisgaar’s lap and swung them to the ground, resting her arms on her thighs. “You asked what our ‘planzos’ for the ‘evening-a-roonie’ were, and when I said ‘probably staying in to watch home renovation shows’ you screamed ‘OPEN CONCEPT FLOOR PLAN’, sprinted in the opposite direction, and showed up to my home uninvited hours later.”
“It’s so important to make time for each other. May I sit?”
“I have been asking you to leave for the last 20 minutes.”
“Thanks.” He sank into a bright green accent chair that was not designed to support his or anyone’s weight. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m Nathan Explosion. From the band. Dethklok.”
“Why are you talking like you’re cutting a reel for a DEDTalk?” She paused, dread straining her features. “IS this a DEDTalk?”
“I’m ins dat bands!” Skwisgaar said brightly.
“Ever since the two of you got together—something I’ve been very cool with, arguably the most cool anyone has ever been about anything—“
Abigail opened her mouth to argue but Skwisgaar shifted beside her, arm sliding gracefully, comfortingly across her shoulders. Tension lifted from her muscles like steam sizzling off a summer-baked street. She settled into him and let Nathan continue.
“—it’s got me thinking about what I want. You guys.” His gaze softened. “You’re so good.”
Skwisgaar’s embrace tightened. Warmth clawed through Abigail’s circulatory system.
“You guys just get each other on a fundamental level,” Nathan continued. “You’re both so nice, and so smart, and so hot. And I uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh Want That.”
“Oh, Nathan.” She leaned forward to grip his thigh. “That was a very sweet and uncharacteristically earnest thing to say. And I think, someday, you’ll find someone who fulfills—“
“No.” He waved her off. “Maybe I’m not being clear. I want this, specifically. You have something special, and I want in.”
“I’m sorry, are you trying to negotiate into our relationship?”
“I’VE PREPARED A BRIEF.”
He withdrew a briefcase and slapped thick, individually labeled files onto the coffee table. Abigail scooped up the folder marked ABIGAIL. She thumbed through it, humming thoughtfully.
“This is a very impressive brief.”
“Thank you. I had a lot of help from Chaaaar—No one. I was helped by no one. No one acquiesced under threat of their pancreas being punched out of their body, why would you even ask?”
“I’m failing to understand the pitch.”
“The pitch.” He straightened, grin widening. “You’re both aware of my skillset.”
“You do not miss an opportunity to remind me.”
“So what if I did that, in addition to other stuff, for you, forever.” He rose from his seat, subtly flexing. “I’m very strong. Check this out: Do you need a refill? Don’t get up, let me get you some more wine.” He scooped up their empty glasses. “Where is the wine?”
“It’s in the wine room.”
“You have a wine room?””
Skwisgaar beamed. “It ams a mud room whats she convoirted!”
“You would not believe the zoning laws I had to plow through—
“HAHHAHA WOW!” Nathan was already slinking toward the back of the house. “Hammers, and the like! You stay there and we’ll talk about this more! Great? Great!”
He vanished. A long moment passed.
“…what kind if co-dependent polyclue did I just latch myself to?”
Skwisgaar kissed the roots of her hair. “De best ones.”
don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 2]
CHAPTER TWO: see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night
excerpt below, read whole thing on ao3
Amy doesn't return to the office until after she's spent a good hour at home. First, she showers, washing off yesterday's old makeup and grime and letting the warm water run over her shoulders as she lets the sweet scent of raspberry shower gel replace the vague smell of old beer and sweat. Her back is sore; probably thanks to Jake's lumpy mattress, she thinks, and wonders for a second if she should add buy new mattress to the contract before deciding it’s far too much. That's relationship stuff, and that's point one of the contract; that's not what this is.
She blow-dries her hair and replaces her makeup, taking extra care to try and cover a pink mark that sits just a little too high on her chest before giving up and picking a different shirt instead. Then she fills the biggest coffee cup she has, eats a buttered slice of toast standing up, and feeds her pet fish before rushing back out the door.
She probably looks fresher than most days once she's done, but she's still worried Gina can sense something from her secretary desk as Amy walks in. She raises a brow in greeting like she's actually interested, which is rare in itself, and Amy can feel her eyes on her as she walks into her own office and closes the door behind her.
Amy starts regretting her decision as soon as she's opened a new document. What is she even supposed to name it? Friends with benefits contract is too obvious. FWB-C sounds like code for something. Sex agreement makes her sound like someone who’s read Fifty Shades Of Grey too many times (which really is just once). Jake and Amy is a wedding invitation, Rules too general. She puts her head in her hands, staring at the blinking line, and groans. Then she writes in Jake, looks at that for a moment, and adds stuff after. Not her proudest, but it'll have to do.
Amy’s relieved she doesn't have much work to do today, because she spends every free minute she can come across tweaking details on the document, adding and removing sections to suggest. When she's finally happy with the result, she saves it in a personal folder she can be sure no one’s ever going to open, and praises the office-gods for the fact that she has her own printer.
There’s a faint smell of artificial lemon in the air of Jake’s apartment as he welcomes her in, and the thought that he might have cleaned for her makes Amy blush. It seems unlike him, but the living room area does appear less cluttered to her than it did this morning, so maybe he isn’t totally incapable of it. She still doesn’t want to check his cabinets.
“You cleaned,” she says instead, nodding to the couch that looks almost neat now. “You expecting to get lucky tonight, or something?” Jake’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but then he shakes his head and points to her outfit. “You’re one to speak.”
All Amy’s done is put on a maroon floral blouse with lower cleavage than she’d ever do for work and put on a touch of pink lipstick, but he’s not completely wrong. She still chooses to ignore him. “I’ve got the contract. Should we do this, then?”
He offers her an orange soda, which she declines, but accepts a mug of Earl Grey tea from a package that seems to have remained unopened since before the brand last changed its design. A hot drink might calm her nerves, she hopes, but it ends up being quite the distracting experience to watch him make it for her. She tries to read through the contract one last time while searching for spelling errors she knows aren't there, her eyes keep being drawn to his hands as he holds the label of the teabag between his thumb and index finger, bobbing the bag a few times with focus once he's finished pouring the water into a New York Knicks mug. It's hard not to think about how those fingers felt dancing across her skin yesterday, massaging the sides of her breasts and holding on to her inner thighs, and it's harder not to imagine what they'd feel like another time –
“Tea,” he interrupts her thoughts by placing the mug in front of her. “Thought maybe you wanted a cup that didn’t say NYPD on it.”
“Well, you're right in that.” She brings it to her lips, almost burning her tongue and hoping he didn't see. “You want to read it on your own, or should I read it to you?”
Jake sits back in the massage chair closest to her, spreading his legs and putting his palms on them before shooting her that disarming smile again. “You read it.”
Amy swallows hard. “Okay. Section one: relationship status. This arrangement only works if we're both single. We’re not bringing more people into this.”
“What about an open relationship?”
“No. Still complicated. This is complicated enough with just us. If either of us gets in an actual relationship, it's over.”
Jake nods. “Cool. Next rule?”
“Section two: appropriate behavior. We're not dating,” she says, pointing first at herself and then at him with the ballpoint pen she brought from work. “So we can't behave like we're dating. Outside of our apartments, we're strictly friends. Or acquaintances. Honestly, it's weird we're even friends.”
“But you admitted we're friends.”
“Sure.” She takes another sip of the tea. “But that means no public flirting, no inappropriate comments, no like, commenting heart or fire emojis on Instagram pictures –”
“Are these rules for you or for me?” Jake winks. “I know my selfies are stunning, but I’m sure you can control yourself.”
“For both of us. Section three: we part in the morning. No exceptions. Staying overnight is okay, but once we wake up, we’re done.”
“What counts as morning in this scenario? I’m not going to have to get up at six a.m., am I?”
“Not unless you stay at my place when I have work.”
“I’ll remember not to do that, then.”
“Great. Section four – protection.”
“You have an entire section on that?” Jake looks like he’s trying not to laugh.
“It’s important!” She exclaims, feeling herself getting defensive. “I have an implant, so we’re safe from pregnancy, but it’s either condoms or you need to get checked.”
Jake nearly spits out some of his orange soda, coughing slightly. “You must be fun at parties.”
“I’m actually a nationally accredited and registered chaperone.”
“What is that?”
“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to do it or not?”
“Fine. You, then?”
“I will if you want me to.” Amy shrugs. “But I haven’t slept with anyone since my ex, so we should be good.”
Jake’s eyebrows fly up. “Really?”
“That so surprising to you?”
“A little? In the least jerk-ish way possible, you must get, well… offers.”
“People don’t flirt a whole lot with their lawyers,” she says, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs. “And it hasn’t been my focus. Are we good with the contract?”
“Actually, I want to add one more rule.”
Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”
Amy looks at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he’s joking, but he doesn’t waver, so she leans forward and draws a fifth section sign on the blank space left on the document. No developing feelings or this ends, she prints out in capital letters, signing her name on the allotted line.
“Won’t be a problem.”
Jake signs the contract, and Amy tries not to grimace at how messy his signature is as she places the document in a thin plastic folder, promising him a copy tomorrow.
“Cool,” Jake nods. He’s messing up his curls with his right hand again, the way she’s noticed he does when he’s trying to flirt. She wonders if it’s strategy or nerves. “So, are you doing anything else tonight, or...”
“What, contract signing’s got you all hot and bothered?”
“I mean, seeing you in full lawyer mode. It’s not, not hot.”
“Double negation?” Amy scrunches her nose. “Oh, you’re going to have to make that one up to me.”
“Maybe I will,” he says, and she needs only to notice the way his eyes darken to know that it’s on.
Amy can feel her legs still shaking a little as she hails a cab outside Jake's apartment just after, and she closes her eyes in the backseat and wonders how it's possible to feel this amazing, this satisfied from a cocktail of what she knows is mostly dopamine and oxytocin. It still makes her feel all giggly, like she can't stop smiling to herself.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she picks it up to read a text from Jake.
Fucking hell that was SO GOOD.
Maybe this friends with benefits thing won't be so bad after all.
DIY CD - Part 2
CD Tutorial directory // Part 1 (burning the CD) // Part 2 (designing booklet & cover) - here // Part 3 (printing & assembly)
Official references (skip if designing your own)
Here's a quick reference for what the different series' album covers look like:
It’s hard to find pictures of the actual CD cases, so imitating the official will mean a lot of winging it. Flex your creative muscles and design a cool album layout! At the moment (July 2022), here’s some image references I can find for different series. Yes it favors my favs.
Unit CD series:
Spines for 1st Unit series, and outer spine band
Front and back for 1st Unit series, Ryuseitai
Spines for 2nd Unit series (with the spine band)
Front view of 3rd Unit series for Ryuseitai and Knights (no outer spine band, but spine is hard to see)
Front & CD, 3rd series Ryuseitai and Knights - shows how certain accents are in a separate plastic layer, and the image & color background is on the booklet itself
Front of Crazy:B and Alkaloid, inside of Crazy:B
Back of Crazy:B
Album series - see here, or watch waterfudge’s Ra*bits or Ryuseitai unboxings
Anime & Idol Song series:
Front view of the 4 most recent series (Anime, Idol Song season 1, Fusion units, Idol Song season 2)
Spines for Anime series
Front view of all Idol Song Season 1 cases (with outer spine band)
Inside & CD for various Idol Song season 1 series
Full detail of Idol Song season 2 Crazy:B
Shuffle unit series:
Front & art print, set 1 (AtoZ, XXVeil, Branco)
Front, Branco and back of set 1
Front & art print, set 2 (Getto Spectacle, Ring.A.Bell, La Mort)
I found these by scrolling through a lot of image search results for “あんさんぶるスターズ! CD”, sometimes with a unit/series name. Here’s the series names in Japanese for easy copy-pasting:
Unit CD (replace the  with 一, 二, or 三; for Crazy:B or Alkaloid, replace it with “Extra”) - ユニットCD第弾
Album series - アルバムシリーズ
Anime series - TVアニメシリーズ
Idol Song series - ESアイドルソング and add “season 1” or “season 2”
Shuffle unit series - シャッフルユニットソング
Fusion unit series - “FUSION UNIT SERIES” is written in English
Pretty much just watch A Crafter In Training - if you want the same tutorial I followed (there’s other ones for slip cases, CD jackets, all kinds of customization), watch this video in particular. Here’s some tips I found while testing:
The template from this video is huge (1000 dpi). EnStars rips are not. I made new templates at 350 dpi - download them here.
On that note, construct patterns yourself, find high-res versions of imaes with Google image search, and upscale with waifu2x if you like that look (I preferred upscaling right in my art program, felt crisper)
Use this website to help make sure your text will be readable. I went for at least 6.00, and it’s easy enough for me to read (using Montserrat, 6pt).
Lyric booklet specific tips:
Optional: If you have an even number of spreads and you’re done with lyrics, make another spread - maybe full character profiles, CGs, your art, “ads” for other merch you’ve made or will make...
English lyrics take up more space, so each song will be 2 pages at least.
Decide on your formatting standards ahead of time. When there’s multiple voices for a line, should it use & or /? Spaces between (Rinne / Niki:) or not (Rinne/Niki:)? When there are multiple lines by the same voice, do you repeat the label each line or only put a label when the singer changes?
When you're done designing, go on to Part 3.