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dinosaurtsukki · 3 years

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haikyuu!! team christmas parties

a/n: this is a suuuuper late christmas-themed post because it was kinda crazy here but i hope you guys enjoy these headcanons of how christmas parties are like with the teams

karasuno:

a very chaotic yet very festive christmas party

nishinoya and hinata especially are very excited for it you could tell by the way they hum christmas songs in the locker room

naturally sugawara suggests holding a christmas party in his house but the only one he sends invitations to is tsukishima because he's the likeliest one to back out

in fact, sugawara probably sends an invitation to tsukishima's house every single day and at this point both akiteru and his mom are anticipating 'kei's first christmas party with friends'

hinata was too excited that he was there at sugawara's house two hours early but they spent a lot of time decorating the entire place

yamaguchi was there just as early because he thought it would be polite and he even brought a box of chocolates for sugawara's family

all of them also decided to do a secret santa gift exchange to make things fun and so they wouldn't have to give everyone gifts

the only ones who gave everyone gifts though were asahi (HE MADE UGLY CHRISTMAS SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE) and yachi who gave everyone some cookies that she baked

everyone mentally thanked kiyoko for getting yachi as assistant manager

ennoshita's secret santa was tanaka and because he knew that ennoshita has been wanting a starbuck's planner, he enlisted noya's help in getting one

did this mean they both chugged 12 starbucks drinks all by themselves in one day? yeah pretty much

when ennoshita got his gift everyone understood why tanaka and noya were extra hyper that day

kageyama also got tsukishima as his secret santa

tsukki actually tried to exchange with yamaguchi but daichi caught him and said that there were no exchanges

he was also planning to get kageyama a plastic tiara as a gift but daichi also caught him (is2g he's everywhere)

eventually tsukishima settled on giving kageyama a volleyball cause he couldn't go wrong with that

kageyama was actually really happy with the gift but kinda pissed that it came from tsukishima of all people so he was just kinda squinting at tsukishima wondering what to say

anyway they didn't fight that's a christmas miracle

yamaguchi got daichi's name for the secret santa and gifted him a coupon for a free spa visit

daichi has a new favorite child

jk yamaguchi has always been his favorite child

hinata actually got KIYOKO to give a gift too and he was anxious for an entire week worrying about what to give her

he ended up asking natsu for advice and then gifting kiyoko a cute little phone charm

she thought it was sweet and still keeps it to this day

seijoh:

oikawa already had a group chat for a christmas party when december started hanamaki and matsukawa spammed it with memes and santa emojis for the first two weeks

finally when they got around to planning, iwaizumi offered to hold the party at his house

surprisingly, the earliest one there was kyoutani because ofc he's helping his senpai set up

imagine the both of them trimming the christmas tree i'm jlgkjalg

kyoutani even brought his own christmas decorations (they're little dogs with santa hats on them)

kindaichi and kunimi were next to come in and they brought a little gingerbread house that they made themselves

y'all oikawa came in last because of 'traffic' but iwaizumi's like 'bullshit, you live next door'

he was late because he was watching the doctor who christmas special

matsukawa and hanamaki are of course in charge of all the party games that last throughout the night

they have a newspaper dance game and they intentionally paired up oikawa and kyoutani

they were the first ones to lose the game because kyoutani wouldn't come a foot near oikawa and that's about how wide their newspaper was

iwaizumi and kindaichi easily won but kindaichi was flustered that iwaizumi carried him bridal-style

you can bet they also brought karaoke and yahaba surprised everyone with his rendition of 'all i want for christmas is you'

also matsukawa and hanamaki did a really good duet of 'baby it's cold outside'

oikawa wanted to make a speech about his friends being his family and them being his best christmas gift ever but hanamaki stopped him

oikawa ended up giving one anyway when the party ended up going on until much later and everyone cried

everyone except kyoutani who was wondering why everyone was crying until he realized that iwaizumi was going abroad for uni

shiratorizawa:

these guys are so close that they just had to have a christmas party together

goshiki ofc volunteered his own house and was deadset on making it the best christmas ever for his senpais

except tendou may have told him that ushijima's favorite decorations were mistletoe so ofc goshiki hung mistletoe ever

the funny thing is ushijima DOES like mistletoe. he thinks its classy and simple but he doesn't know about the kissing thing

meanwhile shirabu and tendou are on the side wondering if they should tell either of them

semi lost some kind of bet (probs with shirabu and kawanishi) and now he has to dress up as santa claus for some reason

lmao angry santa semi i love it already

tendou made some handmade chocolate truffles and half of them are delicious but the other half have a piece of onion in the middle

but the delicious ones are like REALLY delicious so everyone plays this sort of russian roulette game with tendou's chocolate truffles

semi kept on getting the onion truffles until reon felt bad for him and gave him his chocolate truffle

it ended up becoming a christmas tradition

ushijima actually gave everyone a gift and it's matching knee pads

shirabu actually loves them except he doesn't want to wear them out so he never wears them

also he gets cold really easily so even though the christmas party is indoors, he's wearing a sweater and a coat and a quilt on top of that

he honestly looks so cozy that by the end of the night everyone is cuddled up next to shirabu

EXCEPT USHIJIMA ALSO INVITED COACH WASHIJO TO COME IN

ushijima: he's our coach and therefore a part of our team so of course i invited him

no one can argue with him there

coach washijo was surprisingly a nice guest but everyone was extra courteous around him

semi served him some hot tea and shirabu even gave his quilt

goshiki was hiding in his bathroom because he might get lectured on his serves

they didn't know what activities to do with coach washijo around so tendou suggested watching their volleyball games (yes, goshiki has them all on tape) and coach washijo was all like 'i watch you play all the time why would i want to do that now?'

eventually they settled on watching Polar Express and it was nice

nekoma:

their christmas party is also a costume party because kuroo said so all of them came in christmas-themed costumes

AND THEY WERE ALL GROUP COSTUMES

the third years roped in shibayama and they all dressed up as the characters from 'A Christmas Carol'

shibayama was christmas past, kai was christmas present, kuroo was christmas future, and yaku was scrooge

kuroo: it's perfect because you're short and mean

it's funny because they all end up capitalists

okay but tbh the second years plus lev also went all out for their costumes because they come in as HOME ALONE

i'm clearly biased when it comes to my favorite christmas movies

fukunaga and taketora are the two robbers, kenma's kevin, and lev comes in as the house

it's basically a cardboard cut-out of a house that he and alisa made

the first twenty minutes of their christmas party is basically just them arguing about which group had the better costume

eventually they decide to actually enjoy the party

they end up playing a lot of parlor games and even though kenma hates how loud everyone is, he's still determined to win all of them

i swear, he ended up pushing lev out of the way during musical chairs, also grabbing the chair before sitting on it

but then after that kenma decides to play games for the rest of the night except kuroo confiscated his game console (again)

you can bet yaku and fukunaga cooked the christmas dinner for everyone

kai takes a million pictures for the memories but he's really a perfectionist about it and go crazy whenever lev moves two millimeteres too far to the left

when the pictures are developed kuroo has them developed on matching t-shirts and forces everyone to wear them during practice matches

tsukishima: nice shirt

kuroo: why THANK you

kenma: thanks, i fucking hate it

inarizaki:

ngl they're not SUPER into christmas but they're just mildly curious about the celebration

it's mostly the miya twins who initiate it as a way for all of them to have a get-together during the winter break

kita thinks it's a good idea and invites them all to his house

he's actually quite curious about christmas as a religious celebration so he reads up on it a lot and even starts to up his own nativity scene as decoration

he ends up asking his teammates if they want to bring anything to add to the nativity scene

suna brings his gundam figurines and atsumu has an acrylic standee of momo from twice

and now those are joseph and mary

aran and kita take one look at the nativity scene and go 'this doesn't look right' but atsumu looks so happy to have momo there that they just leave it be

osamu is in charge of food ofc but he can't make up his mind on what to cook so he ends up cooking a little bit of everything

ofc atsumu has to be the one to help him but he ends up tasting and eating a good portion while osamu's cooking

*insert fighting in the kitchen*

suna's just walking around taking pictures of everything and uploading them to his snapchat (which has a lot of followers)

"our chaotic team christmas party part 1 of ???"

aran and kita just want some chill time and drink hot chocolate while watching christmas specials

kita also hung up stockings for everyone and suna was expecting it to have candy but its full of fruit and healthy snacks

they still taste good though

suna’s also the first one to fall asleep right smack on kita’s couch

atsumu’s just about to draw on his face with permanent marker but kita has a disappointed look so he stops instantly

in fact, ALL of them end up falling asleep in the middle of kita’s living room

they look so cute aran is in the middle with each of the miya twins on his side. suna is sprawled all over the couch with his face buried in the cushions. kita is sleeping right next to the coffee table with his arms crossed over his chest

kita’s grandmother walks in on them in the living room and knows FOR SURE that she doesn’t have four grandchildren but she’s making them breakfast anyway

***********************************************

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love @waitforitillwritemywayout @kattykurr @tpwkatsumu

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missorgana · 3 years

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not without my muse

pairing: bucky barnes/sam wilson/steve rogers

fandom: mcu

rating: general

word count: 9259

warning: swearing, referenced (canon) character death

summary: Sam celebrates his birthday while on the run. He has a lot of feelings about being away from home, and a lot of feelings about two of his companions. (slightly canon divergent post-cacw pining)

(my best boy sam wilson’s birthday AND on bisexual visibility day 🥳 he is so important to me of course i needed to write something. this is for the lovely Samtember event by @samwilsonfest, and this is also my first time writing the all caps ot3 !! i want to thank my beta-reader for helping me out sm with this, and the horse gc on twitter for cheering me on as always 💖 hope you enjoy??)

read on ao3

This morning is just as the many, many other mornings Sam’s had since he became a fugitive from the government; waking up from relatively peaceful slumber on a stiff mattress and remembering the reality of the ship that is their only refuge. Better than stingy motels, though.

God. Yet another day.

It’s only been three months since Steve and him picked Bucky up; five months since Natasha joined them. Four of them now, harder to stay under the radar, but they’re making it work.

Naturally the blond is keeping an eye on his friend every waking moment, and Sam’s decided to do the same when Steve finally lets himself sleep.

The ex-Winter Soldier is quiet. He seemed happy to see them. Tired. Sam would be surprised otherwise.

And now they’ve landed for three days; that’s the maximum, of course, and they’ll have to get in the air as early as possible, stretching it an extra day isn’t the wisest, but resources are limited and they need to eat, obviously.

He blinks himself awake in the morning sunlight streaming in; the faintest of bird songs outside. Seems to be the first one awake.

Just another day on the run. Except-

Except it’s Sam’s birthday today.

It takes a minute for it to hit him, actually, funny; he’d almost forgotten it was coming up. That’s strange to think about. But as fugitives, that’s still just as much another day, because, well, what is he supposed to do?

What Sam sits up, stares into the empty space in front of him and thinks of, what he wants and needs so desperately is to go home. To his little sister, his nephews.

They have burner phones and it helps. But that doesn’t really feel like enough right now, it couldn’t. He hopes he’ll have the chance to have a phone call today, then, with any of them. Sarah’s voice always grounds him when he needs it, or hearing Cass’ laugh.

Even with burner phones they’re keeping contact short and limited, you can’t ever be careful enough. Maybe Nat’s too paranoid, or maybe she’s just too experienced with this thing. The latter, he’d say. They have to remain untraceable, unfindable.

Somehow, by his friend’s pained face a month ago, when she’d been humming American Pie to herself and he’d sat down, not really saying anything but rather just listened, a soothing sort of thing in the middle of this, he’s got a feeling she understands what he’s feeling right now. Missing someone so badly you can’t get yourself to do anything else.

Speaking of Natasha, soon enough she enters his line of vision and takes the rear seat, reminding him that he needs to get up already. Get ready. Get going. Yet another day.

“‘Morning,” he tells her while stretching, his back aching, which is to be expected nowadays, sadly. Last night was probably the most rest they’ve had in days.

She nods in acknowledgement; not a morning person, he’s aware.

For a split second Sam wonders if she knows what day it is, but perhaps it doesn’t really matter. He can’t remember if he’s told her. Or if she found out on her own with those russian superspy skills of hers.

Ah, well. It’s not like he expects a surprise party. Or gifts or cake or… whatever. He just wishes he’d had more sleep, two weeks of it would be sufficient. One can only dream.

As his friend wakes the Quinjet to life and he himself gets to work at the map, previous locations and small jobs pinned as they go, though, he feels a hand and arm briefly graze his waist as the person passes by behind him.

He reveals himself soon enough; Steve’s voice is hoarser than usual when he tells him, “Happy birthday, Sammy.”

The blond caught a cold recently, which he didn’t even know was possible with the super serum, but he passed by it quickly. Reminded Bucky of the old days, whatever that may have meant.

His friend remembered. And now said friend is standing next to him with a shy smile and looking at him in a way that puzzles Sam. Sort of like he wants to say more. Or like the greeting wasn’t enough, like he was ashamed. Or like he’s keeping something from him. That’s a lot he’s getting from just one facial expression, he realises, but spending every waking moment with someone else makes you familiar, more than they already were, that is.

The smile does make him feel instantly better about getting up at all this morning.

It reminds Sam of Sarah’s voice. That doesn’t make much sense, does it?

But it’s grounding. He likes Steve’s smile a lot; the bigger one even better, when it turns into a grin without all the self-righteousness he puts on when they get down to business, and he just looks wide-eyed and sunny.

And he smiles back easily, feeling his smile form like the warmth spreading in his throat.

God, his eyes are still burning. His friend’s hand hasn’t left his waist, he suddenly realises. Does Steve realise? Should he point it out? He’s probably as tired as himself, he reasons.

“You remembered?” The statement comes out as more of a question, and the man next to him soon turns the smile into a half-frown.

“Of course,” the blond replies, “It’s your birthday.”

His voice is ever so stern. Sam would laugh at his serious demeanor, if he wasn’t still blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to, man. Given our, uh… current situation.”

His friend’s hand still hasn’t left his waist. Huh. He isn’t complaining, though, the touch is… soft. Welcome. It just makes his brain wander, which is a little hard work at 6am.

“You should,” Steve says. He’s smiling again, and turns then, to look at the map lighting up in front of them, “It’s important.”

See, another thing Sam likes about him: the sincerity is overwhelmingly evident, clear when it’s coming from him. He nods, and bites his lip. Both of them seem to contemplate the visual in front of them for a bit. When Bucky’s footsteps sound behind them and he eventually appears on the other side of Steve, the blond still doesn’t remove his hand.

He doesn’t really want him to move it, to be completely honest. Sam likes it there. Perhaps he could touch it with his own. But that’d be weird, right?

A gruff mumble reaches him with its own lieu of a greeting, “Happy birthday.”

Sam finds himself blinking in surprise; slowly, twice.

Ah, well. Steve must’ve told him.

They’re not doing any odd jobs today; missions are there when they need to keep busy, and Nat’s an expert on undercover work. Rather the goal for the day is finding a new hideout for a night or two and stocking up on supplies. Still undercover work, kind of.

This is why they’re heading into the main street in sunglasses, caps and hoodies, keeping their heads low, weapons down and Bucky’s instinct to cover his arm sticks with him, clearly.

“Two hours,” Natasha told them, “We can’t afford to risk anymore. Meet back at the ship.”

They all know the plan, because it’s the same plan, time after time, day after day, yet they repeat it like a mantra. Soon enough, they’re split into teams, the brunette and blonde heading for the pharmacy while he and Steve look over the grocery store aisles.

Sam’s planning to call Sarah; hopefully catch her when she’s home from work, before going to bed, otherwise he wouldn’t know when he’d be able to get a hold of her again. Might be weeks. Going by the sugary cereals reminds him a bit too much of his nephews, in fact, he has to look straight ahead and keep going. He feels Steve’s eyes on his neck.

Speaking of Steve, once they’re in the queue, Sam feels a familiar hand going for his pocket and it certainly isn’t his own.

The blond doesn’t speak a word. He wants to ask, but his friend puts all his focus on paying with his only free hand, and a strange sense of calm comes over Sam, for some reason he can’t begin to explain. This birthday is stranger than he expected it to be.

And the moment disappears again before he knows it; like in the morning, on the ship.

Steve had to let go eventually. Sam finds himself wishing he didn’t.

Even stranger, the blond has an errand to run, he says. Alone.

“You sure?” he hesitates with the question, because surely if Steve wanted him to know he would say, but keeping secrets is sort of out of character for his friend, “We’re meeting Bucky and Nat halfway. We’ll watch your back.”

Steve shakes his head firmly, “I’ll catch up to you, won’t be long.”

He still isn’t saying exactly where he’s going. It worries Sam, just a little bit. Not exactly a fan of letting his best friend out of sight.

But when the blond’s set on a decision, there’s no way anyone can tell him otherwise. “Okay,” Sam decides, “Call me if you need me.”

“Always.”

In response to his explanation of Steve’s absence, he gets a simple tilt of Natasha’s head and Bucky’s face twitching so quickly he’d miss it if they weren’t huddled so close together. The woman doesn’t exactly look happy about it. The taller man, meanwhile, he has the face that Sam knows is his worrying face; he just recognizes it so instantly it scares him a little.

At least his other friends are behaving normally; well, not Bucky, because he’s been considering too many reasons why the ex-Winter Soldier would possibly know about his birthday, and all of them are logical. But it still makes him feel some sort of way. Like when Steve smiles at him.

It takes Sam a moment to register Natasha speaking because he’s stuck inside his head about the two other men, but, “Happy birthday, by the way,” she tells him, a crooked smile and hands in her pockets.

“Thanks, Romanova. Still hate birthdays?”

“Absolutely,” she huffs, “Mostly my own, however. Must be a disappointing one today, though, huh?”

Sam just has to move his eyes to Bucky for a second, who abandoned the bench for the flea market on the other side of the road. He has no idea why.

He wonders if his friend notices. He shrugs in response, “Could be better. I need to talk to my sister.”

Her nod is short, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s these types of situations where he knows better than to ask.

And while the brunette’s crossing the street back to them again, the blond also reappears behind them, which is clear by him patting Sam’s shoulder. He’s never been this touchy before. Has he?

What’s the most surprising isn’t that though, rather, it’s when Natasha eagerly continues on, right in the heels of Bucky, and Steve matches his own pace behind them. Then, he hands Sam a white box.

He doesn’t understand. His best friend looks at him expectantly, until it seemingly dawns upon that Sam needs an explanation.

“It’s for you,” he says, smile evident in his voice, no matter how hard he tries to whisper.

“For me?” he asks, because the gesture confuses him beyond words, “I- why?”

Well, this is a birthday present, isn’t it? It can’t be, though. Steve really shouldn’t. It’d be too much trouble to do when they’re literally running for their lives, and the guilt is already showing its ugly head inside his mind.

It’s Steve’s turn to look confused, “For your birthday.”

Right. Right, okay.

“You didn’t have to.”

His friend slows down his pace a bit, “I know.”

“But you still…” Sam doesn’t really know where he’s going with that sentence, to be honest. That feeling in his gut wishes Steve’s hand was touching his waist again. He could easily understand. Explain it away, act like it’s not making him feel certain things and think certain thoughts and making him overthink the blond’s eyes staring back at him behind the shades.

“I wanted to, Sam,” Steve tells him, speeding up again, they almost lost sight of their friends for a second there, “You deserve it. Well, you deserve more, but I- we can’t.”

It’s as if his heart does a somersault, runs a marathon and wrings itself inside out, all at the same time.

Oh.

Sam decides to look at him in question, and his friend somehow knows what he’s saying, “Open it.”

So he does. Inside, he finds a birthday cake. Or rather an oreo ice cream cake. One similar to the one he’s gotten for basically all the birthdays he can remember, all the way back to his childhood. It’s a tradition.

When exactly did he tell Steve about that? He must have, sometime, a long time ago, but he can’t recall when.

And because he’s getting a bit too overwhelmed by this gift, and this day that’s barely even started, he just looks at the cake in shock and tries for the life of himself to look casual about it. He also tries extremely hard to read his friend’s face, but it’s nearly impossible.

“My favorite,” is all Sam can come up with. He feels like a bit of an idiot. But also, he feels like someone needs to pinch his side. And he feels a lot like flying, no wings required.

“I know.”

Steve is doing things to him, and he probably doesn’t even realise.

He wouldn’t expect anything else, he’s a good friend, he’s Sam's best friend, yet the blond putting his hand in his pocket again and the box holding that cake is making his head spin.

He has to stop thinking about it too much. Sam just really needs to talk to Sarah.

Getting through the crowds of people, avoiding any possible surveillance cameras and eyeing suspicious suited men until they realise they’re just accountants or lawyers or bankers, it’s quite some work, but they make it back to the secluded woods where the Quinjet’s waiting - thank heavens for cloaking technology, huh?

He eyes his wristwatch, now might be the best time to try reaching his little sister. There’s coverage, too, it seems.

This is why Sam slows down and eventually stops in front of the entrance, the three of them all giving him a variation of confused looks until he holds up the burner phone as explanation. He hopes they’ll understand. They nod, so most likely.

“Don’t be long, Sam,” the woman warns him, but there’s still a hint of smile there. He returns it with a bit of relief.

The tone rings three times before someone answers. Sam is close to giving up until the sound shakes, and his sister’s voice comes through the speaker and washes over him with the greatest relief he’s felt in a long time, “Sammy?”

He can’t help the grin growing on his face. “Yeah, it’s me.”

Sarah’s giggles remind him of home. And God, does he want to see them again so badly.

He doesn’t regret standing by Steve, but being so far from the safety he knows is terrifying, sometimes. And lonely.

“You’re still causing trouble?” she asks, and yeah, she can always get a laugh out of him, no matter the situation, no matter how long they've been apart. It’s part of their connection, he guesses.

Sam also rolls his eyes, which she can’t see, of course, she’d only tease him more, “Trying to stay out of it, more like.”

His little sister sighs, “Happy birthday. I miss you.”

The relief and nostalgic happiness switches into something a bit more melancholic, the nostalgia frighteningly more heartbreaking. They usually avoid talking about, well, Sam’s current situation, whenever they communicate. It took him a long time of secrecy before breaking the news to his nephews, revealing why he couldn’t visit them at the moment.

“I miss you too,” Sam tells her, hoping his sincerity can be heard over the phone, “I wish I could see you.”

“Me too.”

Speaking of his nephews, it’s not long into their phone calls before some muffled voices in the background make themselves known, and Sarah laughs softly again, some movement can be heard, “It’s your uncle on the phone.”

He’s pretty sure she put him on speaker, because next thing he knows AJ is yelling into his ear, “Uncle Sam! Uncle Sam!?”

Sam bites his lip. He hasn’t got much time before they need to leave, and if he returns to the ship with tears in his eyes Steve will probably look at him with his big knowing eyes and say this is all his fault. He can’t have his best friend blaming himself this much, not right now, anyway.

Because, well, yeah, they’re on the run because of the Accords. He’d never sign that for the life of him regardless of Steve, but Sam also trusts the blond with his life honestly. Since they met Steve’s been by his side, unwavering, and he intends to do the same for him.

And he doesn’t know Bucky… he still doesn’t. He’d like to. But if Steve is willing to go this far for his friend, he’s just as willing.

He shakes the thoughts of his two friends out of his head, for now, sniffles and laughs through the tears threatening to escape his eyes, “I’m here, buddy.”

“Uncle Sam, are you crying?” Cass’ voice comes through this time, he really can’t hide anything from them, can he? “You shouldn’t be sad on your birthday. You’re beating up bad guys, right?!”

Sarah’s laugh overlaps with his own, “Not exactly.”

“Oh, all the time,” he retaliates, “Your mother’s lying to you, boys.”

His sister’s fake gasp sets him back to the lemonade stand they set up together when they were kids, Sam was certain he remembered their mom’s recipe right, and Sarah didn’t talk to him the whole day when he doubted her version. Of course neither of them were right, anyway.

He feels like a broken record inside his head, but the only thing he wishes for is to see her face. Kiss her nose because she found it so embarrassing, but she’s grown fond of it, he can just tell.

So Sam does try to narrate the odd jobs they’ve been doing, making it as dramatic as possible and leaving out all the existential fear and doubt and his tired bones repeating the same protocols over and over. The boys love every second of it.

He knows his sister is shaking her head at him when AJ excitedly interrupts his story of his first visit to Wakanda, “I could be a hero too, right? Right!?” “You can be anything you want,” he tells him, the tears welling up again. In the far corner of his eye he spots Nat returning to the walkway of the Quinjet, leaning against the opening expectantly. She can wait for a minute, he decides.

“Mom! Mom! Uncle Sam said I can be just like him!”

“You can, sweetheart, but that’s for when you’re older, okay?” Sarah’s voice is a bit quieter now, and his nephews both come through with some sad sounding noises, “Your uncle’s job can be- uh, dangerous.”

He nods. That’s an understatement. Of course, none of them can see this, he realises, once again looking towards his friend who’s waiting for him, looking up in the sky in search of who knows what. Redwing’s still checking the perimeter, so they should be safe for now. The blonde doesn’t exactly trust the drone, as she’s told him on many, many occasions, but she’ll warm up to him.

“Your mom’s right,” Sam finally answers, and although he’s not sure he fully believes it himself, he’ll make the best attempt he can to ease his little sister’s worries. God knows how much she’s got to deal with back home, “I’ll be careful, though. I gotta come back and check on you guys.”

There’s silence for a moment. Then, “You better.”

Sam smiles. He can hear the tears in her voice, too, “I promise. I intend to keep my promises.”

His sister sighs, she’s not agreeing or disagreeing or… anything, but she sounds a little more calm. A little. He’s trying, but he knows he’s giving himself away, tripping in place and laughing more nervously than anything else.

“I know you don’t have much time, Sam. Just promise me you’re taking care of yourself, okay?” “Always-”

“Did you have any cake, Uncle Sam?” AJ’s voice resurfaces once again, and he laughs at the interruption, “We always get cake for you… we want to.”

The disappointment is clear as day, and very much breaking his heart into pieces that he doesn’t know how to pick up or where to keep. Sam clears his throat instead, and looks toward his blonde friend once again, who gives him a crooked smile and shrugs one shoulder.

They should go soon. Nat’s looking at her watch, but she’s not rushing him, though.

“I know you do, buddy. We can have all the cake we want when I come to visit you, right?” he reassures his nephew, who giggles with his brother in excitement, before his sister’s half-joking disapproval, “I wouldn’t say all the cake, but we’ll see about it.”

He looks away from his friend on the Quinjet, looks at his watch, sees Redwing descending to the ground. Time’s up.

But for some reason, Sam can’t say goodbye before he finds a question popping up in his mind, one that’s been all there all day and confused him to no end. “Sarah?” he asks, she hums in response, “I have to go but I need to ask, does it- uhm… does it mean something if Steve got me a birthday cake?”

A moment of silence again, somehow seeming agonizingly longer than before. “I don’t understand what you’re asking, Sammy, sorry.” He thinks his sister might be frowning in question, but it’s hard to tell. She just sounds as confused as he’s feeling.

“I mean… I don't know. He remembered my favorite cake. And he went on this secret trip to get it?”

Sam laughs at himself, and the thoughts of his friend come back again. The friend he’s known for a long time now, the one who held his hand as they landed in Wakanda, something that he didn’t fully process then because of how the airsickness clogged his ears and made him feel like vomiting, but it’s all he can think back to, now.

He continues, “I just don’t understand why he’d go to so much trouble for me. One wrong move, a wrong person and he could’ve-”, of course, he abruptly pauses, remembering his young nephews still on the line, backtracking, “... you know.”

Sam doesn’t know how long he waits for his little sister’s answer, and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting either. She can’t exactly look into Steve’s head, and they’ve never met, anyway. Maybe she’ll tell him to stop worrying and focus on not getting arrested, or worse.

And yet, Sarah replies with, “You’re worth that risk.”

He furrows his brows, “Sorry?”

“You’re worth that risk and more, Sam. To me,” she says, voice confident and filled with the peace of the early mornings he misses so much, “And to him too, I bet.”

Huh. Sam cannot for the life of him think of a response to that.

“You still with me?”

He shakes his head at himself, nods at Natasha, who nods in response and retreats into the ship. “Hm? Yeah, yeah. I am.”

Sarah laughs at him, which is a bit rude, but he doesn’t mind. He’d like to listen to it all day and every day, if he could. In fact, he has to remind himself to make her laugh as much as he can when he sees them again.

He promised to get back to them. Sam Wilson keeps his promises.

“I love you,” his sister says, which is better than saying goodbye. Until next time, more like. See you soon, very, very soon.

It’s only then he feels like he can breathe again, “Love you too.”

See, being on the run in a Quinjet is much, much easier than Steve’s tragically tiny car - not only due to the advantage of having space and proper beds and not having to check in on questionable locations every three days under a new fake name, but also, it has a freezer.

Useful when your best friend decides to get you an ice cream birthday cake.

Sam actually finds it already placed in the freezer, one that’s heavily organized, all thanks to Nat. When he spots the box, he finds himself wondering if their two companions noticed it. If so, they aren’t addressing it.

A silence has settled over the ship now; it’s midday, sky’s clear save for the grey clouds lurking in the distance, and Steve’s taken over the rear so Natasha can take a break. They do it in shifts, because more often than not they have to keep on the move at night, as well.

And while their friend has resided to her bed and headphones, Sam lingers in the kitchen area, interconnected with the main cockpit.

The blond’s back is turned to him. He always taps his foot when he’s concentrating on something, and he’s put on the radio. Marvin Gaye, of course. Sam can’t help smiling to himself.

Steve’s hair has grown ridiculously long now- well, so has his own, not exactly much access to hairdressers at the moment. They could both match Bucky’s hairdo soon, he bets.

Speaking of the long haired man, this is exactly who soon joins him, almost sneaking up on him, his footsteps barely making a sound. Sam was a bit in his own world anyway, he’ll admit.

When he appears on his side, he stands for a moment and moves his gaze in the same direction as his own. Sam wonders if he should make conversation, but the moment’s gone in the blink of an eye when Bucky grabs a beer from the fridge and then comes to learn against the counter like himself.

It’s a rare kind of quiet on the ship.

It feels almost… relaxed. Calm unlike those many strained silences after almost getting recognized in public or nights when Sam finds himself unable to sleep, and somehow, a strange sense of knowing that all his friends are kept awake as well. Steve snores, so the lack of the sound is a giveaway, and Nat is restless, moving around the ship when she thinks the men don’t hear her.

Bucky’s bed is in his line of vision, however, so he knows the longer haired man rarely sleeps these days. At least, when he’s up at night, he’s noticed his friend staring at the ceiling, bedsheet abandoned at his feet and almost looking like he’s holding his breath.

It’s those nights Sam is eternally grateful for the locket his sister gave him; made sure to put her and his nephews on one side, their parents on the other. He can’t explain how, but having them close to his heart when they’re running errands, the anxiety that creeps up on him lessens, a little bit.

And Riley’s army tags. He left their pictures together back at the house, he bitterly remembers, and prays to all the higher powers out there that the agents sent after them haven’t touched that box. That it’s still on the top shelf of his closet, containing the polaroids and every drawing Cass has made him, and his mother’s favorite scarf.

Sam smiles to himself at the memory. She knitted him a million scarves and socks and hats, but that one, it keeps him connected to her. Like, he can put it under his pillow and close his eyes and he can almost see her and her warm eyes and hear her sing him and Sarah to sleep.

Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted, by the man next to him poking his side gently.

“I got you something,” Bucky tells him, his demeanor neutral, lips showing the slightest hint of a smile that no one would notice. Sam does, though. He does the same when they play chess to pass the time; secretive, trying his hardest to hide his enjoyment of the game.

He blinks at his friend, “Huh?”

The brunette shrugs, “For your birthday. It’s not much, but…”

“I…” Sam doesn’t even know what to say, one minute focused on Steve’s gift and now another gift for him to process, neither of which he expected at all, “Bucky, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

Bucky shrugs again. “Don’t care. I wanted you to have something.”

Okay. His friend’s face doesn’t change a bit, but the moment changes, and it’s much like the ship and everything else around them vanishes into thin air. It’s just the man next to him and his stoic face and messed up hair.

“Is that okay?” he asks him, and Sam can’t do anything else than nod. He has to take a deep breath, for some reason, as if his lungs grew three sizes. And it feels like someone lit fire sparklers inside his chest.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course it’s okay. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“Good,” his friend replies quickly, before turning his back to him and walking across the room.

He returns not long after, with a familiar white box in his hands, and offers it to Sam before grabbing the beer can again. Leaning back, taking a way bigger gulp than necessary, eyes seemingly avoiding to look him in the eyes.

He really can’t stop looking at Bucky, though. So he opens the box instead, and finds just how familiar it is. Inside it, an ice cream cake. His favorite. Also, the exact same as the one Steve got him just hours earlier.

This is why Sam looks up at the blond’s still turned back for a moment. He’s whistling to the tune of the music.

Then Sam looks back at Bucky, who still isn’t looking at him, and bites his lip. He finds himself clutching the box tightly, fearing it’s a dream that’ll disappear if he startles awake, but none of it fades away and instead he’s stuck in place because… so, not only did his two friends get him cake.

They got him the same cake. Two of them.

His only guess is that they didn’t plan or… coordinate anything, because it’s not like they had much time in town. They made sure to get something there. For him.

Sam can’t quite contain the grin growing on his face.

And, well, his friend is still avoiding looking at him, so he nudges him with his elbow and hopes his, “Thank you,” doesn’t sound too hoarse or low or nervous even though his voice breaks in the middle. He wishes he could call Sarah again, and tell the boys he’s gotten two cakes this year. They’d be ecstatic. And he could forget his confusion for a bit.

Bucky shrugs once again. “It’s the least I could do.”

Hours pass by until the evening announces its presence, and Sam and his friends are each left to their own devices; Steve’s steering while Natasha’s navigating the map, and while he himself was searching for a podcast to shut the world out for a minute he rather just ends up listening to the rain pattering down around them.

One birthday out of the ordinary, that’s for sure. It’s around ten before he sees Bucky again, but he does appear, with a new can of beer and sits on the far end of his bed. His hair’s still damp from the shower, tied up in a bun.

Sam quite likes it when he does that; well, he likes his long hair, it looks like it would be soft. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but… he just knows.

But he’s always blowing strands of hair away from his face, and this way, you can see all his features, every little thing you don’t immediately notice, every tiny waver on his lips and every glint in his eye.

The glint in said eyes appears when they play chess, of course. When Steve shows him one of his drawings, or when he huffs to himself over the book he acquired on the last flea market he found, multiple states over.

Thing is, it was definitely in his eyes when he handed Sam that box. Maybe that’s why he avoided looking at him after the fact.

And well, it’s got Sam’s heart in a twist. This whole day’s got his heart in a twist, really.

Because he misses his little sister and his nephews and his parents. And Riley’s tags against his chest are pressing too fucking hard.

And Steve and Bucky, they… they’re making him feel… how Riley made him feel. Breathless. Light as a feather. Like he could just look at them and everything would be okay despite everything being very, very much not okay these days. They’re just- they’re like that.

Oh, this is bad. This is really, really bad.

Sam can’t be in love with his best friend. Or his best friend’s friend. Or… both?

He can’t be in love, period. Especially not with his partners in crime, so to speak. Yet, he can’t stop thinking about Steve’s smile and Bucky shrugging like it didn’t matter, but it mattered. It did to Sam. It does.

He shakes his head at himself and wonders if Sarah would do the same. Can you be in love with two people at the same time? It feels very real, but he doesn’t know. Maybe it just overwhelmed him. Maybe his birthday this year makes no sense, which he already knew, but regardless. Maybe they were just being good friends, or maybe they remind him of Riley too much, or maybe those feelings have been there all along and Sam’s been closing them off for too long.

Too many maybes. Way too many.

And apparently, Sam ponders over this for far too long, because the grey skies outside have turned significantly darker and Bucky has disappeared from his bed and instead sits down on his own. He already feels his heart jump into his throat.

“Hey,” the man says, a curious sort of look in his eyes, like he’s trying to read Sam’s mind. He can’t help returning the smile he’s given, instantly feeling at ease in the other man’s company. Steve’s still whistling along to the mixtapes in the cockpit, he can’t quite stop thinking about it, but that seems incredibly far away right now.

“Hey,” he answers. Sam’s trying to read the brunette, but he’s not sure how. Earlier, he grabbed a piece of each cake his friends gave him, and it’s an outstanding cake, almost as good as the one from his childhood, but he really couldn’t stop thinking about what Sarah told him over the phone. You’re worth that risk . “Bucky, can I ask you something?”

He nods. “How do you know it’s my birthday?”

“Hm?”

“I mean,” Sam’s lips feel dry as he speaks, “Did Steve tell you? I just don’t remember it coming up, so-”

“Not today.”

What… what exactly does that mean?

“I don’t understand.”

Bucky’s face morphs into an expression that seems like he’s thinking hard, trying hard to recall something from a long, long time ago. And that turns out to be almost true, “When you visited me in Wakanda for the first time. It was a month before your birthday.”

That is also true. Sam wanted to go back home, trying to think of ways both he and Steve could hide out there but ultimately deemed it too dangerous. He’d never be able to live with himself if he put his sister and nephews in danger. He just couldn't.

“...Right.”

“You talked about Sarah,” he remembers, and the smile on his face grows a little bigger, “I had a sister, too. Older. You said she worries about you a lot. That her laugh is the best thing you know, that she teases you all the time, but you deserve it most of the time, too. Steve said you guys were talking about going fishing when all this is over, that your parents got a boat, because of your family business, uh-”

“Wilson Family Seafood,” Sam blurts out, because he has no idea what else to say.

“That’s it,” the brunette chuckles low, “I’ve always wanted to try seafood. Never did. Stevie won’t because he’s a coward. But he really wanted to meet your family. I get it, they sound lovely.”

So. Sam is rather speechless. All he’s feeling is the heat rising in his cheeks and hearing the rain growing louder. Bucky’s just sitting there with this big smile on his face and he wants to look inside his head and figure out why he’s doing this to him.

“You… you remembered all that?”

The man shrugs. “I did.”

“We weren’t- we barely knew each other, then. We fought all the time before Shuri treated you,” Sam points out.

“I know.”

“But you remembered my birthday, and my family, and-”

“You had orange juice in the morning,” he interrupts, “Steve hates orange juice. It made you laugh, how much he hates it, it’s a whole thing. Your eyes get all crinkled in the corners when you laugh like that, you could barely breathe. You looked really happy and… carefree. I wished you didn’t leave, that first time. I wanted you to stay.”

Oh. Oh.

“Bucky,” he tries, taking a breath. Sam gets this overwhelming urge to not say anything, and instead lean over and close the space between them. Is he overthinking this? “Why did you get me that cake? And why- how do you remember all of this? I wanted to check on you while Steve was undercover but I wasn’t sure if you trusted me enough, without him.”

The man next to him frowns, “It was for your birthday, Sam, I told you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And I like looking at you.”

Sam thinks his brain might short circuit. He blinks in pure shock at the words, “What?”

“The sound of your voice is... calming. Beautiful. You know, I only acted like an asshole to get you to talk to me. I wanted you to trust me,” Bucky licks his lips, and although it seems like he wants to say more, he opens and closes his mouth within a few seconds.

The sparklers in his chest are nearly turning into fireworks, and Sam honestly doesn’t know how to hold them down. He doesn’t really want to. But he also doesn’t know if Bucky is… if he’s communicating the same feelings as the ones blooming inside himself.

He should ask. But the man next to him is blinking with his long lashes and a shy smile that makes Sam’s words fail him, and instead he feels compelled to ask something slightly different, “What- what are you saying? I mean what are you thinking about?”

They’ve also been inching closer to each other. And the sound of the rain has faded in his ears, because all he’s hearing is his own breathing mixed in with Bucky’s.

Sam can’t really breathe, maybe because he’s a little nervous that his reading of his friend is purely wishful thinking. It’s only been one day, but he’s fallen in love on his birthday, he doesn’t doubt it anymore, at all. Twice. At the same time, it feels like he’s finally breathing after holding his breath for over a year.

The brunette’s smile turns into a smirk that should probably annoy him, but it doesn’t. Just makes his heart beat faster.

“I’m thinking about kissing you,” Bucky says bluntly.

Oh, Sarah would be thrilled to hear this. But first things first, Sam thinks he might be going crazy.

But he’s not, you’re not . He hasn’t felt that swooping feeling in his gut since Riley, and… God. It just feels right, and he’d curse himself for never noticing this till now. But he’s too distracted by his friend’s statement, and how the fireworks in his chest are spreading to his entire body when he looks at Bucky’s face.

Sam’s already moving closer, “You want to kiss me?”

The other man huffs, “Pretty much. If you’d like that, that is.”

And well, he doesn’t need much time to think about that preposition, “I think I’d like that, yeah.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

They’re already practically nose to nose, it's been a long time since he’s rushed to act on something as fast as this, and he doesn’t even need to rush, because Bucky’s lips are on his before he knows it, and they’re chapped and slightly desperate but it’s just… perfect. Those fireworks, Sam’s seeing them under his eyelids and feeling them in his fingertips and it’s the best feeling he’s ever had, quite frankly.

His friend’s hand landing on his thigh is pretty good, too. Sam pulls back to catch his breath, and he feels lightheaded, all the way up in the clouds. Bucky frowns and pulls him back.

They kiss slowly, putting thousands of thoughts into every single one, and now, he can read the brunette like an open book. They fall into the same pace so, so easily. The hand on his thigh doesn’t move, just traces circles with his thumb, until it freezes for a second when Sam decides to hold it. His friend grins and their teeth clash, but neither of them care much.

It feels like forever and yet nowhere near enough time when they finally pull apart, and his companion runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Sam doesn’t want to let go of his hand. Bucky isn’t moving, either.

Now it’s definitely harder for Sam to breathe, but for a very different reason. He thinks it’s stopped raining outside. The brunette tilts his head and stares at him, not intensely, but a gaze that makes the fireworks reduce to a soft, everburning ember. He wishes he wasn’t lost for words. It all just makes sense.

“What are you doing?” Sam blurts out, eyes not leaving his friend’s. He’d like to keep kissing him, but he also craves a lot more sleep than last night. He was so very wrong about his birthday being just another day, this year.

Bucky’s smile isn’t shy anymore, “Looking at you.”

When Sam wakes the morning after his birthday, to the same walls of the Quinjet and the same hum of the engine and the same thin mattress, he feels like everything’s changed.

Steve’s still taking the helm and Natasha’s still cooking with her headphones on, but Bucky is giving him a sly smile over his coffee, which just makes him miss his lips. Too much.

He thinks the fireworks are changing into butterflies, sort of; he feels even lighter than yesterday, and he also fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The first thing when he opened his eyes being his friend messing up his hair definitely also contributed to the warmth still spreading in Sam’s body.

It does hit him, did their two companions see them? Realise what happened? They aren’t acknowledging it if they did, and the brunette’s throwing secretive glances at him every so often, which just makes Sam full out blush. Bucky smirks every time.

So, yeah, he’s pretty much floating on pink skies this morning, and his little sister would gag at his cheesiness, but he doesn’t care in the least.

He finds himself touching Riley’s tags with his ring finger, through his t-shirt. The metal’s cold, not burning itself into his chest anymore, like it did yesterday morning.

The bliss Sam’s feeling does hit a slight halt, though, when he opens the freezer to his two not yet eaten cakes. Steve.

It’s suddenly like his brain’s going in hyperspeed again, and the thoughts of the blond man echoes in him from the day before. And fuck . That ‘in love with two people at the same time’ thing? It might be true. At least, he feels it glaring at the back of his neck, begging him to not ignore it.

Maybe his birthday was a little, uh, complicated after all. Still sort of is. Sam can’t stop thinking of the brunette’s breath on his lips and fingers caressing his thigh, but he certainly cannot stop thinking of his best friend’s hopeful eyes as he gave him that cake either, the offended look when he told him he didn’t have to, as if not getting him a birthday present was equal to a criminal offense for the blond.

Just as he thought he had something worked out in the middle of this mess, his two friends are haunting his mind. Dammit.

Sam’s unsure if he should talk to Steve about it, if he should tell him and Natasha about the kiss or not, but coincidentally, the blonde woman decides to do a pit stop. Eerily similar to his friend yesterday, she doesn’t really tell them much about where she’s going, but promises she’ll be back in less than two hours. What the hell, they’re hidden in the thick woods, might as well go for a walk and attempt to clear his head when the opportunity hits.

Bucky brushes his hand with his own as they exit the ship, but the man also rushes to the nearest town (Sam’s got a feeling he’s looking for a bookstore) and so that leaves him with the blond himself.

Steve’s looking with the greatest interest at a squirrel collecting its food when he smiles at him, “Wanna join me for a walk?”

His friend looks up with a smile as big as the sun, nodding, “Sure.”

On the walk, they’re getting creative, let’s say. There’s lots of hiking paths in here, not many people, but they remember caps and sunglasses just to be on the safe side. Generally trying to steer in circles around the paths, circulating the ship, not getting farther away than necessary.

Steve whistles to himself, American Pie , Sam recognizes it from Natasha in an instant. And well, that takes him back to his friend humming to Marvin Gaye just yesterday evening, while Bucky kissed him.

They both gave him the same cake. Wait, wait- why is Sam only thinking about that, really, now? Did they plan it?

Doesn’t seem like it, though, considering they both were rather secretive about it. So they didn’t talk at all about it, and it was just an odd coincidence? He knows now that Steve didn’t have to tell Bucky it was his birthday, because the man remembered from that very first visit, and that still makes Sam a little breathless, to be honest.

But this prompts him to voice his thought stream out loud, “Steve?”

“Hm?”

Their arms brush as they walk, comfortingly close, but still… too far away. Perfect distance for friends, he thinks. But… his heart is obviously telling him otherwise. He can almost feel it getting ready for another marathon.

“The cake you got me,” Sam hopes he isn’t stumbling over his words, recalling Sarah’s reassuring statement within his mind. You’re worth that risk , “Did you and Bucky plan it together?”

He didn’t have much of an idea on how to ask otherwise, but he regrets the question when the blond’s face screws up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His suspicion was correct, it seems. Coincidence. “Uhm, well… I mean, why didn’t you guys just get me one cake together? I love them both, don’t get me wrong, two cakes is way more than I could ask for in our situation-”

“Buck got you cake, too?”

Steve looks rather shocked. He isn’t frowning, per say, but his brows are furrowed as he tries to process the information, and he slows his pace down until he comes to a full stop, back near the ship. Oh god, did Sam just do something very stupid?

“He did,” he replies, smiling hesitantly still, and his friend automatically smiles back, which makes it easier for him to carry on, “I- sorry. I found it strange that you both got me one and thought you must’ve talked about it. But Bucky didn’t say anything about yours either, so I mean…”

Once again, Sam feels his words falter. He also definitely knows he’s blushing again, hard, cause the warmth is rushing through, but the nerves are getting to him, too.

“I’m glad he bought you one, too,” his best friend decides, his face so earnest and honest and kind, it makes him want to scream, ��You deserve more than one. And so much more. I wish we could’ve celebrated properly. I know you want to go home, and I still want to meet your sister, you know.”

He sighs heavily, and Sam truly can’t hide his fondness.

“I think she’d love you,” he tells Steve, because he knows it’s true. Then, he’s unsure if he should continue the sentence. Sam’s thinking of Bucky and his stupidly perfect hair. Then he looks at Steve and his calloused hands, and the words hit him like a train before he can stop it coming out of his mouth, “Not as much as I do, maybe.”

There it is. There wasn’t really much denying, was there?

Sam can practically already feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, and the butterflies down in his gut are bashing in the rush of adrenaline and fluttering their wings way, way too fast for him to keep up.

His best friend kicks around a couple of pinecones on the ground before the statement hits him, then, he looks up again, wide-eyed and in an endearing state of total confusion.

“You… you love me?” Steve asks, bafflement evident in his tone.

Sam bites his lip. “Can I ask you something? Will you be honest with me?”

His friend nods immediately, confusion vanishing for a moment, “Always, Sam.”

He needs to take another deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Do you… do you think it’s possible to be in love with two people- or, more than one person? At the same time?”

To Sam’s greatest surprise both yesterday and today, the man in front of him takes barely a second to respond, no time to think it through, no signs of doubt, “Of course. I love Bucky, but I loved Peggy, too. I love Sharon. And I love you.”

Steve seems incredibly shocked at his own confession, just as much as Sam’s himself. Those butterflies must be on a fucking rollercoaster or something, at this point.

Strangely, this lifts the nerves within him so easily, just like yesterday. His breath still feels stuck in his throat, but holy shit, he just can’t stop himself from smiling. His cheeks must be burning hot.

The blond looks a bit confused again as Sam chuckles at himself. He has no idea what he’s doing right now, but the direction it’s going- once again, it just seems right. Feels right. He wants to reach out for his best friend’s hand, but waits, “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I just realised- well, I think I might’ve been in love with both of you for a while, but not realised it until yesterday. You and Bucky.”

Steve’s eyes are shimmering with hope, and so he decides to hell with it, he takes his friend’s hand. And to his precious luck, the blond squeezes his hand back, thumb tracing slow circles in his palm.

“You’re serious?” the blond asks, laughing in disbelief.

“I am.”

“ Holy shit. ”

Sam matches his friend’s laugh, and the forest almost bends to their conversation, wind softening and the trees surrounding them like a cocoon, almost. Reminds him of those fairytales his little sister loved so much, that she insisted on him reading for her because he liked making weird voices and changing the tale, much to her annoyance.

The silence between them is the most lovely thing, just like the one between him and Bucky yesterday, full of expectation but zero tension.

Steve clears his throat, “Sammy, I- sorry, you're just the best person I know, this is too good to be true. I didn’t know if you felt the same… I’m not good at that. Uhm, hinting. Or flirting, I guess. I don’t know what to say.”

His best friend is blushing as much as himself. Naturally, there’s only one thing Sam can think about, “Then come here and kiss me.”

The blond doesn’t need to be told twice, and he loves him even more for it. And Steve’s lips are softer than Bucky’s, but that’s in no way… better, or, like. It’s different. But it’s the same fireworks popping up in the dark under his eyelids again, and that’s a sign.

He’s in love with his two best friends. And they love Sam back. And his racing heart hums softly, like it’s breathing out as much as he is, a calm from all the way back home settling upon him. His friend hums against his lips and moves his hand to the hair at the nape of his neck, gently pulling. It gives him a sort of tingling feeling in all his limbs, to be honest.

They do have to pull apart when the sound of twigs crackling on the ground is heard, they have to stay alert, after all, even it could very well be another squirrel. Instead, it’s Bucky, carrying a book under his arm.

He’s giving them that sly smile again, “You’ve gotten smoother than the old days, Rogers.”

Steve blushes profusely. Sam finds himself laughing again, his nerves long gone, and touches his cheek. His friend clears his throat a little more, “You got the same idea as me, Buck. With the cake.”

The brunette joins them in the clearing, lifting a brow in question, “You mean my idea?”

“Shut up!”

“No, no, you learned from me punk, I’m proud of you,” Bucky laughs, and Steve’s about to slap his arm, if their friend didn’t grab the blond’s hand mid-air, “You’re an asshole.”

Bucky looks at Sam in question, and he answers, “He’s not completely wrong.”

His friend shrugs. “You both love me, though.”

“I do,” he nods, and Steve chimes in with, “Sadly, yes.”

Of course, their companion grins like an idiot, “Now we got that settled, will you kiss me again, Sammy?”

Sam is so fucking lovestruck right now, he’s not scared to admit it. Steve’s hand is still on his neck and Bucky’s taking his hand, and it’s nothing less than perfect. Just like a happily ever after, although he has no idea where they’re going after this, but it only matters to him that they’re together, really. He thinks Sarah will love both of them. He hopes they’ll meet someday, at least. And AJ and Cass, they’d be thrilled, oh my god.

The blond interrupts as Sam’s already leaning in, “Hey! I want a second kiss too!”

He rolls his eyes fondly, “Of course, Stevie.”

Well, it’s almost perfect, until a fourth voice makes them all jump, “You lovebirds need a minute before we take off?”

Nat’s smirking, Steve looks embarrassed and Sam laughs, his air mixed with his two companions and the butterflies’ flutter making him warm and tingly, still. Bucky flips her off. Guess some things never change.

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kolmogorov-is-sad · 3 years

Text

The Swan. Harmony under the starry sky.

Translator’s note: Today is Yuzuru Hanyu’s 26th birthday. To celebrate the date, wonderful Yulena gave us this technical and emotional analysis of the Notte Stellata, that I would like to share. Yuzuru has become an inspiration and has brought hope to so many people. And in the times of adversities, I cannot think of a better program to keep in heart than Notte Stellata.

Notte Stellata (”Starry night”), a program choreographed by David Wilson, is one of the best exhibitions of Yuzuru Hanyu. A song by Italian trio Il Volo set to the music of Saint-Saëns’ The Swan and of the same name became an unexpected gift to Yuzuru.

In April of 2016 renowned Russian coach Tatiana Tarasova told Yuzuru: “I have a song for you, a song I would like to see you skate to very much”. And she gave him a recording.

“I was very happy that coach Tarasova reached out to me. I admired the rivalry between Plushenko and Yagudin that made me desire to get serious with figure skating and to become Olympic champion. That’s why I was truly happy to receive music directly from the coach of the sportsman that once stood at the very top of the victory podium in Salt Lake City.” (c)

Yuzuru has already turned to the swan theme in his short program White Legend. With this beautiful program set to the music from Tchaikovsky’s ballet Swan Lake arranged by famous Japanese violinist Ikuko Kawaii, Yuzuru competed in 2010-2011 season. In the first part of the autobiography Aoi Honoo (Blue Flame) Yuzuru shared that the melody of the White Legend is sorrowful but despite that it gives a feeling of setting wings free and brings strength to fight the adversities. After the Great East Japan Earthquake, this program for him became connected to the restoration after the disaster, that is why Yuzuru chose that program for the first charity show in Kobe (in April of 2011) and as the exhibition program of the season as well as the exhibition in Olympic Sochi.

youtube

Japanese papers named that program 星降る夜 (“The Night of the Falling Stars”)

Yuzuru’s recollections of the first days after the tragedy spent in the evacuation center come to mind. All the lights were cut off the night following the earthquake, and the sky full of stars could be seen above.

Even though both programs share the same theme, Notte Stellata shows us a different Swan, delicate and fragile. A symbol of light, love and hope.

This symbolism can be seen in the pattern on the rink and in the skating elements, in the choreography’s delicately reflecting the lyricism and gentleness of the music, and the dynamic accents of the vocals.

The composition of the program consists of several key elements that come together with the music to bring laconicism but also sophistication to the choreography. Prolonged lobe on the left foot, multirotational twizzles, Ina Bauer, hydroblade, spread eagles with the change of edges and sit twizzles are scattered across the program as if they were pearls on the thread of the melody. Those elements create unique harmony between the music and the movements.

Composition-wise, there are two main ways in which choreography is used to highlight those central elements: execution of the elements at the peak of the melodic phrases and the execution of the elements as accents to the rhythmic patterns of the music.

This new Swan image is also shown through the shining white costume with deep-cut neckline both at the front and at the back, that might represent the purity, delicacy and fragility of the beautiful creature.

Starry night on the forest lake. A swan glides across the water...

The program starts with a soft intro and laconic choreography highlighting the tranquility and serenity of the music. There is some choreography posing into back inside three-turn, followed by a couple of running steps and a prolonged forward-outside lobe on the left foot.

The LFO lobe last through the last two parts of the melody. This lobe and the right arm softly going down at the end speak of tranquility.

The vocals come in to three variations of the half-lunges, gentle and ceaseless movements of the body and hands in harmony with the soft intonation of the melody.

Guarda che lago che luna c’è.

The image of a beautiful bird is created with the vocabular made of delicate movements of the body, the head and the arms, even with the simplicity of the basic running steps.

The main element of this part is the multirotational RFI twizzle at the peak of the musical phrase, that brilliantly highlights the prolonged vocals.

In the next part, choreographic accent is put on the expressiveness of the body and arms. There is a mazurka jump at the change of the musical phrases into a lunge and a knee slide with soft “enveloping” arm motion.

The elegant pose in the lunge with the lowered head and the smooth line of the outreached arms with the loose wrists evoke the image of a bird spreading the wings.

What a pity that this lunge lasts just a second!

Arms wrapping and enveloping the body in the knee slide highlight the tenderness of the melody and the softness of the vocals. Yuzuru melts into the music, his expressiveness incredible.

At the end of the phrase there are two crossed chassés, followed at the beginning of the new phrase by a waltz three (вальсовая тройка) on the left foot into a rittberger three turn (BO three turn with the free leg in front of the main one) set right to the music.

Then, at the culmination of the melody, Yuzuru executes his signature Ina Bauer, the key element of this part of the program. Arms spread softly become the main feature of the element, their movement lasting through all the long vocal part. Those arms speak in the very language of the music.

Beautiful bird sets the wings free and then folds them again gently at the end.

The next phrase of the music is accompanied by a series of similar choreographic elements that highlight the rhythmic structure. After a LFO three turn with prolonged exit lobe set to the vocals, Yuzuru executes four side half-lunges together with delicate arm movements of a beautiful swan.

Despite choreographic simplicity, you can watch and re-watch this part forever.

Then comes a combination spin set carefully to the music. Once again arm movements draw the attention during the spin with their nuanced musical interpretation:

a feather-like swing of the right wrist and rounded soft lines in the camel spin;

arms being spread open smoothly in the sit spin;

soft movement of the left hand before the Biellmann;

both arms being gracefully spread after the Biellmann at the spin exit, accompanied by the tender sound of the cello.

Difficult variation of the Biellmann at the culmination rightfully becomes the highlight of this spin.

Exiting the spin, Yuzuru does some choreographic posing at the beginning of the new musical phrase, a three turn, a slide on both feet with accentuated arms movements, and a waltz three turn, and then dives into a gorgeous hydroblade at the peak of the melody.

And once again during the prolonged vocal part there is the right arm’s expressive movement of a wing being softly spread open. Incredibly subtle motion of the same hand’s wrist becomes a choreographic touch at the end of the musical phrase.

Flight of the beautiful swan.

At the beginning of the next part the structure of the musical phrasing is highlighted by three inside spread eagles.

Guarda che notte stellata!

Yuzuru wonderfully expresses the music with the intensity and the duration of the spread eagles that fit the rhythmic pattern. Every element is accompanied by one arm softly moving up to the high notes.

Then there come a Jackson, a LFI bracket, a crossed step and a double back outside choctaw into a half-flip. And then a signature half-sit twizzle into inside Bauer with both arms elegantly going up.

This skating transition reflects the growing intensity of the music. The intricacy of the arms and body movements expresses the nuances of the phrase and adds complexity and volume to the choreography.

Then there are a waltz three turn on the right foot and three crossovers in preparation to the culmination of the phrase - a gorgeous choreographic combination of the delayed and triple axels.

The delayed axel and the following triple axel out of the twizzles and into the twizzles excellently highlight the change of the musical intonations, they are performed in complete harmony with the soft and lyrical vocals. Both the take-offs and the landings of the jumps in unison with the lines: Guarda che notte stellata! L'amore per noi...

Incredible composition and performance.

There is a half lutz after the twizzles at the triple axel exit and into some turning steps.

Yuzuru’s body and arms language expresses tender motives of the final musical phrase with the words of choreographic accents.

A half-sit slide creates another bird image.

The swan folds his wings.

Beautiful final spin perfromed to the music fading away, and to the deafening applause of the audience, makes the perfect ending of the program:

an incredible camel spin with accentuated change of variations as the musical parts change;

a sit spin in the difficult variation “leg behind”, the rounded shape of the arm position resembling wings.

In the deeply touching final pose, Yuzuru’s arms and eyes are turned to the sky above. To starry sky of his.

“This is not just about being harmony with the music by one hundred percent and about emphasizing with it, not just about the most difficult elements that fit every single note this is some completely incredible unity of the human soul and the music. I have seen something like that only twice in my whole life, and not on the ice, but in the ballet: when Maia Plisetskaya danced to "The Dying Swan“ under the accompaniment of Mstislav Rostropovich, and in the New York dance studio where Diana Vishnyova danced with Valery Gergiev as conductor. Yuzuru Hanyu’s skating is a phenomenon of that same scale.” Tatiana Tarasova

On the 7th of December Yuzuru celebrates his 26th birthday.

I would like to with him all the very best and bright that there is on the whole Earth. Most of all - to be in great health. Then there will be power to fulfill all of the plans. Fly high, beautiful and strong Swan! Those wings behind your back will carry you lightly and freely. Fly towards your dream that will definitely come true.

At the Continues With Wings show Yuzuru once said to the audience: “Your eyes are like the stars to me”. The source of that light are all the incredible emotions that Yuzuru’s skating brings us, his skating where the technical mastery intermingles with art.

Yuzuru Hanyu is the brightest star on the figure skating horizon.

#yuzuru hanyu #notte stellata #translation #happy birthday yuzuru

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theblackberrygirl · 3 years

Text

Dead Hearts

Summary: The Red Room is destroyed and Natasha has some unresolved goodbyes to say.

Author’s Note: alright I wasn’t super happy with this bc I felt like it was kinda OOC but my beta reader said she rly liked it so here it is!

Warnings: torture, death, death of children, hypothermia, grief. It’s sad alright

This is a song fic and it’s inspired by Dead Hearts by Stars

Tell me everything that happened

Tell me everything you saw

They had lights inside their eyes

“JARVIS, show me the article,” Nat asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Of course, Ms. Romanoff.”

The headline streamed across the TV in her room. Russian training academy, Red Room, has been destroyed and burned by the US government.

Her stomach dropped. No. It can’t be true. The Red Room doesn’t just get destroyed. That’s not possible, it’s not true.

But it was. It was true. The Red Room had been reduced to a pile of burning cinder blocks.

She felt a strange feeling in her heart. She definitely wasn’t nostalgic. The Red Room had kidnapped her from that house fire when she was 4, leaving her parents to die. They tortured her, made her into a killer, messed with her mind and memories.

They made her kill her friends.

When she had escaped when she was 16 and Clint had found her, she never looked back. She ran and ran because running was what she knew, it was all she knew.

But now, she couldn’t run away. No, for once in her life, it was time to run towards something.

“JARVIS, is the quinjet fueled up?”

“Yes, Ms. Romanoff, but-”

“Get me 29 roses please. I’m leaving in 10 minutes.” JARVIS didn’t answer her, but she knew he was listening.

It was late, around 2 in the morning. Tony would be in his lab. The others would hopefully be asleep. Clint… well, he was a wild card at night. He could be anywhere. But she had known him for years. She knew how to avoid him.

She threw some essentials in a bag before heading towards the quinjet. JARVIS had been listening, because a bundle of blood-red roses laid on the countertop.

She picked them up on her way out to one of the jets. She needed to do this. Not just for herself.

But for them.

Did you see the closing window?

Did you hear the slamming door?

They moved forward, and my heart died

“Mr. Stark, Ms. Romanoff has just entered the roof.”

“What? Why?” Tony asked, actually pausing his newest project to listen to JARVIS.

“She asked me to make sure one of the quinjets had fuel and to get her roses.”

“That’s helpful,” Tony grumbled. “Is Barton still up?”

“Mr. Barton is currently downstairs in the archery range.”

“Typical. Tell him to come up here, will ya J?”

“Right away, Mr. Stark.”

Tony didn’t go back to his tinkering. He wanted to give Natasha her space, since she’d probably kill him if he didn’t. But at the same time, if this was something important, he didn’t want her to be alone.

“Tony? What’s up?” Clint had arrived in the lab, his bow on his back.

“Hey, do you know if today is anything important for Nat? An anniversary or something?”

“...no? Not that I know of anyways. Why? She alright?”

“I’m not sure, Katniss. JARVIS just told me that she was going up to the jet with roses.”

“Where is she going?”

“The GPS coordinates are set for an area approximately 50 miles West of Vorkuta, Russia.”

“Russia? Why would she be going back to-”

“JARVIS, how many roses did she want?” Clint interjected.

“29, sir.”

“That’s specific,” Tony commented.

Clint didn’t say anything. He wordlessly picked up one of the laptops Tony had laying around and typed something into the search bar.

“Oh no, Tasha… I knew you talked about it doing something, but...”

“What? What is it?”

Clint spun the laptop around for him to see. “The Red Room. It’s gone. And I think I know why she’s going back”

Please, please tell me what they looked like

Did they seem afraid of you?

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew...

Even in a quinjet, the ride from New York to Northern Russia was pretty long, giving her plenty of time to think and contemplate.

She did not want to think. Not about the Red Room, or Madame B, or the other girls, anything.

You owe it to them to remember.

All of her memories before 16 were jumbled. But some things… some things can’t be erased or altered by drugs.

She remembers their names. All of them. All 29.

She had been the youngest girl in her class of Black Widows. Some said that was a weakness. Others said it was an advantage.

But when they brought little Natalia Romanova to that place, still covered in burns and ash, she didn’t care about becoming the Black Widow. She wanted her mother, and father, in their little one-bedroom apartment, with her stuffed rabbit Alexei. It was always cold in that apartment, but when she was snuggled between her mother and father, she felt safe.

She learned quickly that safety was not a feeling in the Red Room. That was something for children, and she was not a child. She was Natalia, made of marble.

On her first night there, when she had silently cried from the pain of cold metal handcuff cutting her wrist, one of the older girls had helped her. She was 8. Her name was Nadia.

Nadia had stolen one of the handcuff keys from the guards. She had unlocked the cuffs and hugged her. Made her a makeshift doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Told her stories of magic and heros.

In the morning, they found out about what Nadia had done. They punished her until she couldn’t scream anymore. Just before they killed her, she looked at Natalia. “It’s ok”, she whispered. Just before they pulled the trigger.

Magic had not been in that place in a very long time.

After Nadia had been killed, Natalia funneled her grief and fear into her training. She rose to the top, taking down girls who were twice her age and twice her size. She used untraditional methods on the mat, using her legs to take them down since that was where she was strongest.

Her handlers were very impressed with her sudden prowess. She became the best dancer, best fighter, best liar. She picked up the languages quickly. She was as stoic as stone, never flinching or backing down from the threat of a punishment.

They never knew what fueled her excellence. Never knew that she was motivated by rage and grief. For her parents. For Nadia.

When she turned 9 years old, she decided that it was time to repay her debt to Nadia. There was a new girl, the last one for their class. The thirtieth. Sasha.

No one knew what had happened to Sasha. But they did know that she was good. She was unwavering, unmoving. During the day, anyways.

At night, Natalia could hear the girl in the bed next to her trying to muffle her cries. She took out the key that one of the guards had foolishly left in the washrooms. She carefully unlocked her own cuff and Sasha’s.

She rubbed her back silently. Rebraided her French braids that had come undone in the night. Made her a crude doll out of an old sock and toilet paper. Just as Nadia had done for her.

The next morning, Natalia had waited all day for someone to take her to a room to be killed. But they never did. They hadn’t been caught.

Sasha and Natalia continued their routine every night. It was nice to have a friend in a place where friends were a myth.

They were friends for 2 years. They learned to master sneaking around. When Sasha turned 11, someone took her into a room alone. They did this all the time for training, interrogation practice, or just a mental test.

When Sasha didn’t come back that night, she knew something was wrong.

She never saw Sasha again. She didn’t know what happened to her. She still didn’t.

“Landing in 10 minutes,” the jet intercom told her. A wave of anxiety washed over her. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to turn around, go home, and never come back.

She hated the memories associated with this place. This was the closest she had ever been in the 12 years since Clint saved her. She avoided it like the plague.

The clearing the jet had landed in was still about 2 miles from the old academy. She pulled her coat and hat on and began her march through the barren fields and forest.

Tank tops and shorts. No shoes, she thought to herself. When she was 13, Madame B had given them all black tank tops and shorts. She took away their combat boots and forced them out into the bitter winds.

“Only the strongest will survive this challenge. Only those worthy of the Black Widow title will make it through this. If you are not ready, well, hypothermia isn’t a bad way to go,” she had told them. 2 girls out of the remaining 18 had died that day.

Then they had gone inside to train. The cold made their muscles achey and stiff, but the Red Room was not a place for complaints.

Then they did it all again the next day.

By the end of the week, 7 of the remaining 18 girls were dead, either from exhaustion or the cold. 11 remained from a group that was once 30.

Anastasia. Irina. Svetlana. Alina. Manya. Eva. Kyana.

Their dead hearts were everywhere. The lights inside their eyes extinguished. They’re still out there. And she still cares.

She always will.

I could say it, but you won't believe me

You say you do, but you don't deceive me

It's hard to know they're out there

It's hard to know that you still care

Pepper, Tony, Clint, Bruce, Thor, Steve, and Fury had all boarded a jet to Russia as soon as Clint told them what had happened. They weren’t going to let her go through this alone.

Natasha Romanoff liked to pretend she didn’t feel things. But they were her family. And family helped each other.

They all sat in silence. Natasha only had an hour on them, but that was still an hour where she was alone and hurting. Even Tony didn’t say anything.

Clint was playing with the spider necklace he always wore. Natasha had a matching one with an arrow. It was a symbol of how deep their friendship went.

Fury was completely still. He had his arms resting on his knees, looking straight ahead. His lips were more downturned than usual, and his forehead was more tense. You could only tell if you had known him for a long time, but Fury was upset. Upset that the woman he looked at as a daughter had to relive this. That she even had to live through it at all.

Clint and Fury were probably getting hit the hardest. They knew the most about what went down in the Red Room. They knew the most about how painful this had to be for their friend.

As the jet lightly set down in the field near the jet that Natasha had taken, they all prepared to walk the 2 miles in the cold weather.

The ground beneath their feet was completely frozen. Permafrost. Snowflakes rushed around their faces. It was painfully beautiful.

The sound of dried grass and leaves under their feet was the only sound on their walk. The wind whistled in their ears. The cold air bit into their exposed skin like needles.

Clint’s breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

She was standing on a pile of rubble with her back to them. Her flaming red hair was flying in the wind. In her arms was the bouquet of roses. Each rose had a note attached, written in Natasha’s small, elegant penmanship.

As Clint looked closer, he saw what the notes were. Names. All of them.

If Nat had realized they were there, she made no move to acknowledge them.

She just stood there. As if she was in shock. To be honest, she might’ve been.

“Sometimes, I swear I can see them,” Natasha spoke. She sounded so… broken. “Everywhere. In the reflection of a window. When I heard a door slam, it was like they were right there like they used to be. Like how they were in here.”

They all stayed quiet. She needed to get this out.

“It’s like they’re following me. Protecting me. I miss them. I miss them all.”

“Inna, Katrina, Larisa, Polina, and Oksana were the first 5 to go.” She held the 5 flowers tightly in her hand, like if she squeezed it tightly enough, she could bring them back. “5, 7, 6, 4, and 8. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she whispered. Her emotions were coming to the surface, hidden by a thin veil of control.

“Raisa, Sonya, Ulyana, Vanka. I didn’t know any of you. Not personally. But all of you deserved so much better than what you got.”

“Luda, Lubov, and Klara. You were 8 years old. Triplets. Nothing could come between you three. Not the Red Room. Not even death.”

Clint started to move closer towards his best friend. He could see the way she was shaking.

“That week when we stood outside for hours. The cold and exhaustion took 7. Anastasia, Irina, Svetlana, Alina, Manya, Eva, Kyana. I hope that you weren’t in pain when you died. I hope you’re finally resting.”

Only 10 roses were left in her arms, the other 19 laid out on the ground in front of her. The bright red petals contrasted sharply with the grey cinder blocks and white snow.

“Yelizaveta. Liz. We were in actual hell together, and yet you somehow managed to make me smile with your fucked-up sense of humor. In a place like that, dark humor is the only kind you have.” A small smile joined the tears running down her face. “I hope I’ll see you again one day.”

“Taisiya, Sonechka, Nikita, Mischa, Maya, Luda. You were all so smart. And so strong. You fought harder than everyone. Even now, I have yet to meet someone as smart as you six, and 2 of my best friends have more than one PhD,” she laughed.

She was down to the final three roses. Clint put his arm around her. The dam was threatening to break any moment now.

“Nadia.” She let her tears fall for Nadia. “I wouldn’t be alive without you. I wouldn’t have gotten to meet my family. I wouldn’t have gotten to become an aunt without you.” Clint had already been crying, they all had, even Fury, but that had struck him deep in his heart. “I owe you. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she choked out. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she gently set the rose down on the ground.

“When I was 14, we had to do torture training.” Pepper let out a small gasp. “After I had finished the whipping and electrocution day, Anya split her bread with me. She cleaned the cuts that I couldn’t reach. In the morning, I-” Her voice began to crack. “They made me be the one to kill her. She was 15.” She set Anya’s rose on the ground next to the others. “You didn’t deserve it, Anya. You were always so good. Better than I ever was.”

“Sasha. Sasha and I were best friends,” she let out a small bittersweet laugh. “When I was with her, I felt like, maybe, we could lead normal lives. Escape. Be happy. One day, when we were 11, they took her away and never brought her back.” She held the rose with Sasha written on it in her hand. “I’m sorry, Sash. I’m so, so sorry. For everything.”

“You forgot one,” Clint whispered. He held out one more red rose. “Natalia Romanova. A little girl orphaned in a fire, who did what she had to do to survive. Who walked through hell and back and still found herself a family and a home.” He set the rose down with the others.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she cried. Clint hugged her tightly as they sank to the ground.

“We were all so young. We were all kids. Just kids,” she sobbed into his shoulder.

Years upon years, over 2 decades worth of grief, sadness, fear, rage, and pain came pouring out. She had been bottling these feelings up for 24 years, shoving them down, and now they were finally being released. Finally being set free.

“They were kids that I once knew. They were kids that I once knew...”

Now they’re all dead hearts to you.

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you

They were kids that I once knew

Now they're all dead hearts to you...

#shut up elle #clint and natasha #platonic clintasha #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #Natasha romanoff fanfiction #red room #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #black widow #black widow fanfiction #clint barton #Hawkeye #tony stark #iron man #nick fury #I only wanna add tags for characters that like actually talk and stuff yknow #my writing #Spotify

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thefallennightmare · 4 years

Text

Dorogaya-Prologue

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst.

Summary: It has been sometime since Y/N and Bucky went into hiding but now their past is returning. Can this new relationship survive the Civil War that’s about to happen?

A/N: Here is the prologue for the Soldat Sequel called Dorogaya(darling in Russian). Not a whole lot happens in this but I wanted to give an update on how Bucky and Y/N were doing while in hiding! The first chapter will be out soon and let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters! I’m not sure how long this one will be and it will take place during Civil War.

Letting out deep breaths, I continued up the stairs to the sixth floor of the apartment complex I had called home. It was after midnight but that didn’t stop the neighbors from blaring their music or have yet another argument. My nose scrunched up in disgust as the familiar smell of garbage and body odor filled the air and after finally making it to my floor, I knew I had one more obstacle to cross before making it inside safely.

The next door neighbor that every single night for the past week had tried asking me out. My Romanian was a bit rusty but I knew when a guy was hitting on me.

“Hey beautiful.”

Groaning at the gruff voice, I turned on my heels and gave him a curt nod. “Hi.”

I went to unlock the door but could feel his presence creep closer towards me. My fingers slipped into my pocket and slowly pulled out my knife.

“Fundul tău arată bine în blugi acei.” He placed his arm against the door frame to my apartment, trapping me between him.

I scoffed. “I may not know much Romanian but I don’t need to be fluent to know that when someone is talking about how good my ass looks in my jeans.”

His mouth opened to speak but the door opened behind me. I didn’t have to look who opened the door, I could tell from the heat radiating off the body. And the feelings that weren’t my own of jealousy and rage filled my veins.

“Totul in regula?” Everything alright?

I looked over towards Bucky and nodded. “I’m fine, Bucky.”

The creep took in one quick glance of Bucky before retreating back into his apartment, clearly not knowing I was living with a man twice his size.

Bucky remained blocking the doorway and when I looked into his eyes, I found myself sucking in a breath. In the week we’d been in hiding, he had let his beard grow a bit more and it was now that I realized how blue his eyes were; a deep ocean. Licking my lips, I stood taller after realizing how close we were standing and nodded behind him.

“Are you going to let me in?” I joked.

After giving me a small smile, he stepped to the side allowing me to walk past him inside. He did a quick glance around the landing and staircase before shutting the door behind us. The sound of locks clicking together sounded behind me as I looked around our new home.

It wasn’t the best apartment by any means. I did have money saved up, enough to get us by for a while, but I had to do what I could to save it. Bucky had no money so it was up to me to provide for us. I didn’t mind at all but we had to make some sacrifices and a nice apartment was at the top of the list.

Newspapers lined all of the windows, not allowing anyone from the outside to look in, even though we were on the sixth floor. There was the bathroom to my left and the only thing good about it was the bright blue towel we had hanging on the almost broken towel bar. The paint was peeling all over the apartment but it didn’t bother us. We only had one bed, well mattress, and it laid on the floor of the apartment. We each had one pillow and there was only one blanket. We were also able to find a couch for pretty cheap at the local market in town and that’s where Bucky slept every night.

He still didn't feel comfortable with sharing the bed with me and not wanting to push him, I agreed that he could have the couch. I did have to admit, it was adorable seeing how small he made the couch look while laying on it.

The kitchen would become cramped when both Bucky and I tried cooking something at the same time; which wasn’t often since we had opted for getting food delivered.

For the first few days of living here we tried our best to stay inside, opting to go out into public if we absolutely needed to. And when we did, we wore anything to help conceal our identity. I went out more than Bucky would, him being afraid someone from his past would recognize him.

It was then that I noticed he had made a make-shift shelf with a few two by fours and cement blocks.

“You love to read so I thought I could make you something that you could put your books on,” he spoke when he noticed me staring at it. “It may be a bit shaky.”

Immediately I waved him off. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

We both stood in our respective places, staring at each other, and the feeling of desire warmed my insides. Bucky must have noticed because he shook his head, letting out a quiet scoff.

“Stop that.” Was all he said.

“It’s not my fault!” I defended myself. “I can’t help it that I can not only feel your pain but your feelings too!”

“I’ve been thinking,” He started, immediately changing the subject.

“What about?” I questioned while putting away the groceries.

Bucky’s hands grazed over mine as he took the box of spaghetti from me and placed it in the top cabinet; the one I couldn’t reach. His back was to me so I could see the way his shoulders tensed and I felt fear cloud my mind.

“Bucky,” I spoke softly while placing a hand over his flesh arm. “What’s wrong?”

He remained silent but gave a quick look over his shoulder to the door, eyes trained hard against it. His eyebrows scrunched together and he tilted his head to the side, almost mimicking an animal that heard something off in the distance.

Oh.

“Do you hear something?” I asked.

Every footstep or every voice put Bucky on high alert, especially with the super soldier hearing. He found himself staying up way after I had gone to bed, sitting on the couch with his eyes and ears on the door. He wouldn’t admit it to me but I knew he was terrified of Hydra finding him again, turning him back into Soldat.

“It’s nothing,” he reassured me before busying himself with unloading the rest of the stuff I had picked up from the store. “I still don’t understand why you have to go late at night.”

I shrugged. “Less people and less chance of someone recognizing me.”

“More creeps,” Bucky reminded me.

“I am more than capable of taking care of myself,” I stated back with a smile. “You’re not the only one that’s good with a knife.”

And if that wasn’t enough to reassure him that I could handle my own, I snapped my fingers together causing a small flame to spark between them. Bucky held his hands up, knowing when he lost the argument and we continued to put everything away in silence.

“Bucky, I’m home!” I called entering the small apartment.

Soft music came flooding into the room from the outside and I followed it to the balcony. A smile spread to my lips as I took in the sight in front of me. Bucky was sitting in one of the fold up chairs with the leather bound journal in his lap. It could see that there were sentences upon sentences written. The soft tune of a song from the 1940’s played on his phone but what warmed my heart the most was ewing Bucky finally using the journal I had bought him.

I bought it shortly after we settled because I thought it would be a good idea for him to write down anything he would remember; a memory or even him remembering that he loved plums. This was the first time in six months that I had seen him open it.

“Keep staring at me and your eyes are going to be glued stuck.” Bucky joked while closing the journal.

Oh, I don’t think I would mind one bit.

“I really hate your super hearing. I bet you could hear me the second I stepped foot into the building,” I smiled while sitting on the chair opposite of him.

“How was work?” He questioned.

He went to turn off the music but I stopped him, saying that I didn’t mind it.

“It was okay. The really bad bar creeps seem to come out in the day rather than night,” I shrugged.

I had been bar tending at the pub across the street for a few months now and while it was true that the daylight seemed to bring out the worst of the creeps of Bucharest, the money was really good so I tried not to complain too much.

Bucky’s heart rate sped so I placed a hand on his knee, letting him know that I was fine. “No one bothers me, Bucky.”

I kept my hand on his knee when I realized that it wasn’t making him uncomfortable. Even though we had been with each other every day for the last six months, we still had yet to make a move on taking whatever relationship we had to the next level. I promised him one night that I wouldn’t push him, let him find himself first, then we can talk about our relationship. We were friends living together.

“I’ll let you get back to writing,” I motioned towards his journal while standing up.

“You’re not going to ask what I’m writing?” He wondered, confusion on his face.

I mirrored my own confusion to him. “Why would I? Those are your private thoughts, Bucky. I won’t read them unless you want me too.”

Turning my back to him to enter back into the apartment, I felt cold fingers lace with my own and tugging me back towards him. “Hm?”

He remained silent, only bringing my hand to his lips and I felt warmth spread through me when he laid a soft kiss on my knuckles.

“Thank you, Y/N” he breathed against my knuckles.

“Anything for you, Bucky.”

I tossed and turned on the mattress, a quiet groan slipped through my lips. My fingertips padded on the mattress next to me for my phone and when I saw what time it was, another groan slipped out. It was after two a.m and I had been trying to fall asleep for the last 3 hours. Bucky and I had spent the last few days finally getting our apartment settled after I had worked three doubles in a row. Needless to say I was exhausted.

Forcing my eyes shut, I placed a pillow over my face, hoping that would help. However, I sat up with a start as I heard whimpering coming from the body next to me. Bucky was fast asleep on the couch; or so I thought.

His large body twitched and in the dim light, I could see the lines of his mouth pulled together in a hard line. The feeling I had surging through me told me one thing; he was having a nightmare.

In the year of living with him and sleeping next to him, I had yet to notice him have a nightmare. I knelt on the mattress and gently placed my hand on his metal arm while giving him a quick shake.

“Buck? Are you alright?” I whispered.

Bucky’s eyes snapped open and the fingers of his metal arm wrapped around my throat cutting off my airway with a gasp. My body fell onto the mattress while Bucky straddled my hips. His eyes were gone, almost black, as he stared into me. I could feel his heartbeat quicken as the grip on my throat tightened.

“Bucky,” I tried to cough out.

My hands scratched and smacked his arm but failed. I didn’t want to have to use my powers to stop him, refusing to use it against him, but I knew if I didn’t, he would kill me. The air within slowly started to leave my body and I felt the darkness looming so with a quick snap of my fingers I felt the warmth spread through my hand.

Wrapping my hand around Bucky’s flesh bicep, his metal one released my throat as a loud hiss escaped his throat. The air returned and I coughed loudly a few times, trying to swallow as much air as I could. Curling my hand into a fist, the fire evaporated and I felt Bucky’s body still on mine.

“Y/N?” He asked, voice trembling. “What did I do?”

He could tell in the dim light that marks were starting to form around my throat, guilt pulling at his heart.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him. “You were having a nightmare and I made the mistake of trying to wake you.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head while climbing off of me. “I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”

I knelt in front of him and reached for his hand however he snatched them away from me. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I should go-.”

“Bucky, stop! I’m okay!” I gripped his hand to keep him in place. “Call us even, okay?”

I motioned to the red mark on his bicep when he looked at me confused. “I’m sorry for waking you. They’ve never been this real before.”

“You’ve had nightmares before?” I questioned.

We slept next to each other for the past year and I hadn’t even noticed that he was struggling with this.

“The screams. It’s the screaming of them that haunt me.” He stuttered.

I felt the sadness drowning me so I placed my hands on the sides of Bucky’s face and made him look at me. “It wasn’t you. What you did, that wasn’t you.”

“But I did it.” His shoulders raised and slumped down with regret.

Ignoring the voice of doubt that resided in the back of my mind, I knelt up closer to Bucky and laid a gentle kiss on his forehead. His hands immediately grasped my hips and squeezed.

“C’mon, lets get some sleep.” I motioned for him to lay on the mattress next to me.

Bucky refused, afraid that if another nightmare took over what he would do. But I wouldn’t take no for an answer and pulled him down next to me.

“Is this alright?” I asked as I laid my head on his chest.

His heart pounded against the cage of his chest and I placed my hand on top of it, almost trying to calm him. Bucky’s breathing slowed and his metal arm wrapped around my back pulling me closer to him, letting me know that he was in fact fine with it.

That night was the last time we slept separate and the last time Bucky would have a nightmare for a long time.

“My God,” I gasped while my eyes scanned the article I was reading on my laptop.

Avengers cause destruction in Sokovia.

The article was a handful of months old, me just now getting my hands on a laptop. Bucky and I had spent the entire time here in Romania trying to stay away from the media, not wanting to know what was going on in the world and not wanting to be in the spotlight

Scrolling farther into the article, I read that Tony Stark and Bruce Banner had created Ultron who now was on a mission to destroy everyone on earth; only wanting metal to live here. The Avengers, along with these enhanced twins, were trying to stop him.

I couldn’t help but feel sadness and jealousy when I continued to read how the Avengers fought together against this Ultron. I could have been fighting alongside them, saving the world. But I knew that my place was here with Bucky.

The mouse ghosted over a video on the article and after looking around the apartment to make sure Bucky wasn’t around, I clicked it open while holding my breath.

Everyone from my former team was fighting these robot soldiers for the first half of the clip but when it cut to a different video, I sucked in my breath. Steve’s face popped up as was shown saving so many people, leading them to an old SHIELD helicarrier.. My heart ached wanting to be with him, fighting with him, and wanting to feel his body against my own once more.

For the first few months, Steve’s face would cloud my dreams and I found myself missing him terribly every night. I told him to not look for us but a part of me knew that he wouldn’t abide by my wishes. I knew him and Sam were doing everything they could to find us.

But now, over two years later, I found myself regretting my decision to leave; only slightly.

“What are you watching?”

Jumping at the voice, I went to close my laptop but a metal hand stopped me. Bucky’s eyes scanned over the article before he watched the video I had just finished watching. His face was unreadable but what scared me the most was that I could feel what he was feeling.

Maybe I was having an off day.

“Stark? Why do I know that name?” He wondered, mostly to himself.

“He’s one of the richest men in New York. He also helped find The Avengers.” I said while placing my laptop on the kitchen table.

“The Avengers?” Bucky asked.

“I know, it’s not that great of a name. But what we did made up for it.” I defended myself.

Bucky placed his journal on the counter and shook off his jacket, placing it on the chair in front of him. He then sat on the couch next to me.

“We?”

Biting my lip, I gave him a small nod. In the last two years, we were so focused on getting him better and figuring out his past, that I hadn’t given him any details about mine. Since the night of his nightmare, we became incredibly close. We still haven't made ourselves official but we shared the bed each night, tangled in each other's arms, and soft kisses on forehead and hands were as far as it got.

I never complained once.

“Um, I used to be a part of the team. That’s how I met Steve actually. We first came together to help defeat the Chitauri; some alien species.” I started.

“I remember reading about that a few months ago,” Bucky admitted.

A few months ago he spent an entire weekend reading old news stories that he had missed out on.

“Ever since that day, I had decided to stay on Steve’s team. Now, it seems like they’re still working together.” I said with a hint of jealousy.

“Doing what?” Bucky asked, passing me a plum.

Taking it with gratitude, I tried the best way to bring it up without triggering him. “Uh, I guess the last few months they’ve been taking down Hydra bases to find this special scepter and they nearly leveled Sokovia trying to stop this Ultron guy.

Bucky was silent, body rigid when I had mentioned Hydra. “I thought Hydra fell?”

“Apparently not,” I sighed.

We sat in a tense silence and noticing that his shoulders were straight with rage with the thought of Hydra still being a functioning terrorist group.

“Hey,” I spoke softly. “They won’t find you. It’s been almost two and a half years. We’re going to be fine.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I, uh, added more to my journal.”

“You did?” I smiled.

“Those stories about the war in the 40’s helped me remember some stuff, not a lot though.”

The disappointment in his voice broke my heart so I placed my head on his flesh shoulder, not daring to place it on the other. Every night when we would lay in bed together, I had refused to touch the scars on that shoulder. Bucky was still reserved and uncomfortable with it.

“So,” I started, immediately wanting to change the subject. “Anything you want to do tomorrow?”

Bucky nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. “Can we go to the fruit market? We’re out of plums.”

“You and your plums,” I giggled while wrapping my arm around his midsection. “But anything for you, Buck.”

“Thank you, dorogaya.” He breathed against my forehead.

We both enjoyed this new normal for us, settling into this routine fairly early on while we were in hiding. But nothing would prepare us for what was about to happen tomorrow and how it would affect the rest of our lives.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #the winter soldier #soldat #sebastian stan #chris evans #avengers

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non-sequitura · 3 years

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Sequitura’s guide to Kpop if for some reason you want to get into it

(Not recommended, the fandom culture is insane, though there are some nice songs)

These are songs that I really liked on the first listen and continue to like. Some songs take a while to grow on me, like “TT” by Twice. Those aren’t on this list.

They're not my top 100 - those would be too particular to my tastes and I tried to cover a range of musical styles.

* means that the song is a b-side (not the primary promoted song in an album) and thus probably doesn’t have a music video.

Oh My Girl (cheerful group with KILLER catchy melodies) -Windy Day -Dolphin -Coloring Book -Closer -(optional listening) Secret Garden if you really liked Closer -(optional listening) Nonstop if you like catchy dance tunes, but after some of their really good stuff it'll pale in comparison. It's good gateway Oh My Girl, though.

Blackpink (they do a lot of hype songs; cool vocal colors; actually not bad rapping for kpop) -As If It's Your Last -Playing With Fire -Lovesick Girls

f(x) (experimental girl pop) -Rum Pum Pum -Nu Abo

KARA (exhilarating dance tunes) -Step

Brown-Eyed Girls (they've covered pretty much every genre at this point, but boundary-pushing is their main theme) -Kill Bill -(optional listening) Abracadabra (not personally my thing, but the EDM bassline was super fresh at the time and still is) -(optional listening) Warm Hole (really catchy 60s-esque bop)

Taeyeon (former main singer in Girl’s Generation) -4 Seasons -(optional listening) Spark (not the greatest song in the world, but the lead-in to the chorus is great.)

T-ara (ridiculously cheesy dance tunes) -Roly Poly -Sugar Free -(optional listening) Lovey Dovey (if you loved Roly Poly)

Mamamoo (originally jazz, now... something else) -Piano Man -Um Oh Ah Yeah -(optional listening) Woo Hoo (the harmonies will blow your mind) -(optional listening) Decalcomanie (GREAT for early 2000s rock Amy Winehouse-esque fans. I'm only mildly a fan of that style, but even I can admit the vocal pyrotechnics are incredible.) -(optional listening) Pride of 1cm (a rap diss track about each other’s heights) -(optional listening) Girl Crush (HEY YOUUUU)

Spica (sadly short-lived group that was *really* musical; did jazz authentically and well) -You Don’t Love Me

IU (soloist whose style has run the gamut, but she mostly writes her own music, now.) -Eight -The Red Shoes -Blueming -23

AOA (originally a band concept who came back with uh... sexy, which isn’t a genre, but they still have good songs) -Heart Attack -(optional listening) Like a Cat -(optional listening) Elvis

Wonder Girls (retro who came back with a band concept) -Why So Lonely

Sunmi (her stuff can take a while to get under your skin. It’s quite dark under the surface, which I like.) -Heroine -Pporippipam -(optional listening) 24 Hours -(optional viewing) Noir, for the music video mainly

Yubin (former rapper for Wonder Girls) -Lady -Thank U Soooo Much

Girl’s Generation AKA SNSD (one of the original icons. You won’t find a more polished group anywhere.) -Paparazzi -(optional listening) Lion Heart (for those who love the 60s sound)

BoA (original soloist icon. Watch her dance and sing live.) -Mannish Chocolat -(optional listening) Woman

Itzy (currently conquering the “teen rebels” genre) -Wannabe -Don’t Give a What -(optional listening) Icy (it’s divisive, but personally I find the attitude super charming and the instrumental fresh and unique rather than irritating.)

Red Velvet (have some great RnB songs, as well as some lovely summer ones, as well as some “lol wut” ones) -Psycho -You Better Know* -Body Talk* -(optional listening) Russian Roulette (slightly off-kilter pop song and catchy af) -(optional listening) Look* (AMAZING 80s throwback) -(optional listening) Swimming Pool* (one of those super cheesy pop songs that becomes transdescent in the chorus) -(optional listening) Sassy Me* (this song is crazy) -(optional listening) Mr. E* (if you loved You Better Know) -(optional listening) Sunny Side Up* (if you loved Body Talk and Psycho)

2NE1 (one of the first “badass”-themed girl groups.) -I Am the Best -Fire -(optional listening) I Don’t Care (tackling slow/emotional)

Hyuna (a great performer who sells any song she’s in) -Trouble Maker -365 Fresh -Bubble Pop

CLC (they’ve unfortunately probably broken up now. Super talented group who’s bounced from genre to genre trying to get something to stick, leaving bops along the way.) -Pepe -Show* -No

Weki Meki (they’re slowly finding their niche, which is likely to be smooth club stuff) -Crush -(optional listening) Cool (I recommend watching their relay dance/dance practices and giving Lua some attention)

BOL4 (“indie”-ish band; not a big fan of most of their stuff) -Travel (but they did strike addictive gold when they went more rock)

Gfriend (Strings, guitar, and some of the best/most consistent vocalists in kpop right now) -Navillera -Mago

Dreamcatcher (a very unique, metal-influenced sound. Amazing dancing. Probably supported by the most humane company in kpop right now.) -Scream -Over the Sky* -Black or White* -(optional listening) And There Was No One Left* (idk why but this one hits me. It’s so sparse and yet makes you feel so disconcerted.) -(optional listening) Silent Night* (if you like the musical aesthetics of the song “Everytime We Touch”) -(optional listening) Can’t Get You Out of My Mind* (if you liked Silent Night)

Twice (“The Nation’s Girl Group”) -Fancy (kind of the only song of theirs that I adore; ask me for more recs if you really like them.)

Ailee (known as the Beyonce of Korea) -I Will Show You (an unironic “yasss” song) -Heaven (gee, this song is sad but never lets up with the power vocals as well, which I think works better than a straight-up slow ballad)

Loona (I don’t really click with them, but a few songs have hit me first listen) -Voice* (it sounds like a beautiful, brisk skate across a mile-long lake) -New (by Yves – it’s super flowy) -ViViD (by Heejin – I love sassy swing tunes what can I say) -(optional listening) Heart Attack primarily for the music video

EXID (power vocals + brass + hip-hop? I don’t really get it tbh but good singing can sell me anything.) -Ah Yeah

After School (I don’t know this group but this song is a bop. Might be one of my top 20 favorites of all time and I only heard it yesterday.) -Bang!

Sunny Hill (very unique social commentary music) -Pray (warning: one of the most disturbing music videos I’ve ever seen, but definitely worth a watch if you have a strong stomach) -The Grasshopper Song (music video is nicer)

(now we move into territory with guys in it. I personally think male artists in Korea release fewer great songs than female artists, beccause the general trend is to be “dark” or “moody” compared to the more melodic trends in female groups. If you like strong choreography or braggadocio vibes, though, you’ll probably like them better.)

AKMU (singer-songwriter sibling pair and probably my favorite composers in Korea right now.) -Dinosaur -How People Move -(optional listening) Happening (somehow gives coffee shop music a driving rhythm) -(optional listening) Like Ga Na Da (this is a song about the alphabet. It is still insanely catchy.) -(optional listening) Melted (sad ballad)

TXT (this group has other songs, but I don’t like any of them nearly as much.) -Runaway (like the classic boy group sound set on fire. A really nice pre-chorus of all things. Love the guitar.)

Ateez (they might become the next BTS; not sure.) -Wonderland (like... pirate hip hop/rock. Watch with choreography.) -Wave (a surprisingly potent summer song) -(optional listening) Say My Name

Shinee (some of the most talented dudes in kpop) -Lucifer (probably the only kpop song to pull off a one-note chorus well. Sounds like it was produced by people who evolved in a different universe.) -View (super smooth, groovy deep house song.)

Oneus (their good stuff goes hard) -A Song Written Easily -Valkyrie

Stray Kids (don’t know the group; song is great) -Miroh

A.C.E. (one of the only kpop groups doing hardstyle and surprisingly enough, I like it.) -Goblin -Cactus

Seventeen (don’t really know the group; song is great) -Mansae

-1/6/21

#blog #non-sequitura-blog #list #1/6/21 #january 2021 #2021 #longform

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shorkbrian · 3 years

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ASKS

Hello again, asks are compiled under the cut. Please block the tag #shorkbrian answers a lot of asks# If you’d prefer not to see these types of posts from me. If I haven’t answered your ask, it’s because I’m saving it for a thirst, drabble, or fic.

I don’t ignore asks, but sometimes getting around to them overwhelms me lol. pls accept my apologies lol k here we go

I am very glad, I legit was so scared that it was too long and that it’d be disappointing bc the smut wasn’t super IN YOUR FACE yknow? But man am I glad to hear that.

I’m looking directly @ you

Someone noticed omg!!! A lot of times I just put whatever song I played on repeat while writing that fit, but I have a *yandere* playlist that I listen to and it gets me going. Ty for noticing!!!

I’ve considered opening them permanently but I just... idek. I’d have to start deleting or ignoring the requests I don’t vibe with and Idk how to handle that lol. But thanks for the well wishes, hope your next few months treat you well friend!

Watermelon sugar why

Srsly you’re sweet but just wait until I start to really get going with all my nasty kinks okay, then you’ll be rethinking this strategy hunty lol!

I literally stalk @.vermiliren and @.kazooli and @.seita lol. Maybe when I get my blog more cleaned up, I’ll create a list of creators that I enjoy, along with fic recs. For now, here’s a link to my AO3 bookmarks which I read one like almost every single night bc I’m a horny gremlin.

I am the shark king. Sharks are my thing bro u don’t even know. I love them so much, they're dumb and big and beautiful and yeah I wish I was a mermaid who got to swim with them. Also I changed it bc I’m trying to make my blog more *professional* and all that so I can start being taken seriously askjakjdf

Compliments suck, if I'm being down and out honest. This does not bother me at all, I’m just unsure how to respond. I think I would prefer no comments, but I’m trying really really hard to just say “thank you!” and move on before I get uncomfortable. Having to fight with someone about how I perceive my self worth is exhausting, and especially so for the poor person that was just trying to say something nice and be nice to me.

They do make me quite uncomfortable my dear lad/lassie/lasso. Say what you wish in the tags tho ! I don’t really reply to those, so there’s no pressure on me to have to say something back. I do however, see all the tags ppl use and some of them make me laugh so hard cause they’re so spot on, and it makes my day. like “Mark me down as scared AND horny” and “Bakugou better be able to bench 165 cause imma throw my fatass in his mf lap” and it kills me.

I SCEREAMED AKDHGSYDGASJSD this is the only format I'll be taking asks in now, no compliments just a yes/no answer to if my works help u cum god bless

you used the /gen!!!!! IDK what these are called but the /S and /gen and /J save my life!!!!

Frick you’ve figured me out, I do try to put like a nail-in-the-coffin sentence at the end. A lot of times it never works right, but I cannot for the life of my figure out how to end a single post ever. If anyone knows hmu pls ty

(Also ps I checked out ur blog cause yans are my jam and it is very much Not garbage!!)

That’s very kind of you, but pls don’t stay up past midnight it’s bad for ur Brian you’ll make bad decisions bro trust me all of my stuff is written after midnight

You will lafff..... but I will tell anyways..... I was prescribed a “life coach” after I got out of the hospital, which was really just a poorly disguised softcore “make sure u don’t yeet urself” type of thing. He had me write down things I liked about myself, and when I returned the sheet of paper still blank, he wrote stuff down for me. Like five sentences of “My hair and skin are unique and special” “I like animals and enjoy being kind to them” “I am worthy of respect” etc etc. and I had to look in a mirror twice a day and say those sentences to help “boost my self worth”. It sucked so bad dude, and I like got upset about it every time it came up, until finally my therapist was like “... this aint doin this sad bitch no good” and my parents got designated for yeet watch instead.

I know, logically, that (the majority of) people are not purposefully taking time out of their day to make me feel bad. They're trying to be encouraging and loving, and I appreciate it so much. But like... what do I say? If I say thanks, it’s almost like acknowledging what they're saying as true, and I can’t live with myself thinking I’m more than I am. I’m sorry you’ve had experiences that make compliments difficult for you also, I understand bro and I hope that your future holds healing and peace for you.

Hopefully I won’t vent as much anymore lol, I’ll try to do that on my sideblog where I reblog really trigger-y memes akjdafhkjf. But thank you for your kind words bro, they’re appreciated and put in a nice lil jar.

Ah dw! This doesn’t sound like a jab. I think all of us r so sad n depressed and feel unworthy of love, so the fantasy of a Yan coming and forcing it on us and not leaving even when we lash out is just..... so attractive my heads gonna explode

me, thinking about kiri at any given moment like:

I have the next Hybrid! Kiri fic like lined up, but I’m so demotivated be I was SO CLOSE to finishing, and then wiped my computer like an IDITO

Waso, I’m taking horseback riding lessons bc my mom went:

and my grandpa told me that one of his horses was named Awaso and I immediately thot of u fun fact. But you’re so very kind, and I enjoy seeing you in my inbox. I’m never tired of u homie. You are loved and important, and it’s not an illusion. Even random strangers on the internet can feel soft towards you bro, and dats me, I’m the random stranger that likes u.

So I took Russian for a year, my dear friend, because I wanted to see if the language myth of “Russian is the hardest, Korean is the easiest” was true. I would say yes. So instead of like translating this and typing out a coherent response, I’ve resorted to google translate I’m so sorry but Виктор мог плюнуть мне в глаз, и я бы поблагодари�� его. Also, the way Vitya is written in cryllic makes my heart swell it looks so cozy idek what I mean by that but it does? I treasure you man, hope to see you around in the new year and maybe??? we be good friends

Can any year be good when Kirishima Eijirou doesn’t exist?

cryface;;sad.jpg

I just imagine anyone who comes across my stuff, sitting at their computer shocked and slightly horrified, maybe turned on like

Daddy Aizawa makes me

Wait!! I have something to aid your troubles!!

ur welcome now u can be horny whenever you’d like

pls every time we talk about Kirishima I have to act surprised like

LISTEN BBYGORL I have had therapist Suga in the works since *checks notes* November. I am excited for it yeahhhhhh but sadly, I don’t think I will be continuing piano teacher Suga. The story is petered out in my mind, idk where it would go. Therapist sugarbird tho? We have some thots about this. Coming soon to theaters near you

#shorkbrian answers a lot of asks #pls block that tag if you don't want to see these kinds of posts #inbox was getting fulll #tysvm for continuing to support me

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silence-thw0lv3s · 3 years

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I knew exactly what love looks like when I was 12

Even if I hadn't met love yet

If love had wandered into my house

I would've recognised love instantly

Love wore a sexy dress

Love knows what I like to have in my palate

Love knows who Dragonborn from Skyrim is

Love doesn't get on my nerves

And I knew that maybe it was all just in my imagination

I'm sure it was

If only I could find her

And when love finally arrives

Love has a cute little mustache

But always slept in until 10am every morning

Love has a weird 'tsk' tongue click

And a cocky laughter

Love has a slightly broad shoulders

But didn't know anything from Skyrim, let alone the main character

Love chews with her mouth opens

Love is a terrible kisser

And every time we kiss, love always bite my lips!!

Love became the reason why I get jealous of cats

Love has horrible memory but makes sure we never forget important things

Love always pampered cats but makes sure I always get enough affections I need

Love at times gave me doubts like being in a Russian roulette game

Love made me thought that love wasn't going to last

But love grew

Love changed

Love stretched like a Chinese string of noodle

Love has songs that reminds her of someone else

Songs she didn't like to hear

And so did I

But we found songs that both of us can enjoy

We found places we both like to visit

And now love sometimes will buy me cakes

But will probably finish most of them for a quick snack

Love looks great in croptops

But still likes to wear her oversized Marvel t-shirt

Love is a terrible navigator

But a decent driver

Love knows how to use Google map but will probably take twice the time more than she had planned

Love is messier now

Not as simple

Love makes her signature tongue-click that drives me nuts

Love chews too loudly

Love hates doing the dishes

Love moves forward to leave the past behind her

Love sometimes gets selfish towards the smallest things

All that matters

Is that I love love enough to remember all these little things

Je t’aime, mon amour.

#silencethew0lv3s #stwpoemslits

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pongnosis · 4 years

Note

I’m sorry to bother you again but are there any little scenes/headcanons that you never got to add into Devil? What are your favs?

It’s absolutely not a bother! The answer will probably be a little disappointing, though. There were a ton of ideas that never made it in, but the vast majority of them remained a line or two in my notes. Of the stuff that actually got written ... most of what I never got to add in was stuff where the plot took a different turn - things like the bare bones/main scenes of the alternate ending where Alex chose the CIA options, or snippets of an AU where Yassen chose to break Alex and turn him entirely into Orion after Santa Catarina. Bits of some of it got reused elsewhere if possible, and the rest of the discarded scenes are generally stuff that just ... didn’t fit in. It was too slow, too detail-heavy, or just didn’t quite fit the flow of the chapter. Most of the important scenes and headcanons made it in (with the exception, I believe, of the undercover agent on Santa Catarina - that was Nathan, Johann’s bodyguard, who was with the CIA, but it never fit into the fic to mention it.)

If you do feel in the mood for Yassen deciding to break Alex ‘for his own good’, I’m happy to share! It’s less of a rough first draft and more a collection of main scenes that I had to get down in writing before it would leave me alone. It’s somewhere on the discord server, too, but ... way, way back. God knows where. Warnings for Yassen deciding to break Alex through isolation:

Alex wakes up in an unfamiliar room wearing nothing but loose trousers and a t-shirt. His last recollection is leaving Malagosto with Yassen; refusing to stab someone to death, accepting however many weeks in Dr Three's care, and Yassen telling him he won't have to -

- And nothing. Drugs do weird things to memories sometimes; resistance to interrogation taught him that. It could have been days ago. It could have been hours. He has no way of knowing.

There is no daylight in the room, no windows, just the constant, low, artificial light of the lamps. There is no running water anywhere. There's a toothbrush and toothpaste and a sink, but no tap. There's a chemical toilet and disinfectant gel with a horrible, hospital-like smell to it, but nowhere to actually wash his hands. No shower. Nothing but a plastic jug of water and a cup that goes with it. To Alex's best estimate, it's enough to last a day and not much more.

The door is locked. Alex tries it twice, just to be sure. He can probably fit a single sheet of paper between the door and the frame but that's it. The walls are solid and probably soundproof.

It doesn't feel like Dr Three's style, though Alex could be wrong.

He has no idea of the time but he stays stubbornly silent. He won't beg to be let out, he won't talk, and whoever is behind this – Yassen, it has to be – can just go screw themselves.

With no shoes on, he's smart enough not to kick the door.

Eventually he settles down, resting against the wall. There's nothing else to do. The floor isn't comfortable but then, neither is the wall. His mind, already bored, is happy to supply any number of horrific possibilities as to why he's there. Alex is sure that's Yassen's plan in the first place and makes a pointed effort to ignore them.

He starts by mentally reciting every country and capital he can remember. Then he tries in alphabetical order, followed by doing the same in French, Spanish, Russian, German.

He can remember a surprising amount of song lyrics when he thinks about it, which just makes it all the more annoying when there's part of a single verse that he can't recall.

Alex spends a long time trying to remember the first lines to Total Eclipse of the Heart, and considering how many times Jack's played the damn thing -

Alex has just started on his third attempt at trying to remember all of Bohemian Rhapsody when the door opens and Yassen steps inside. Alex is on his feet seconds later, stiff and sore and furious.

Then he takes a closer look. There's something about Yassen's body language that has Alex instantly on edge. Something that reminds him of … he's not sure, but he knows it's nothing good. Gentle, almost.

“Orion,” Yassen greets, breaking the silence.

“Alex.” Probably not the best time to be stubborn, but Alex doesn't care.

There is something in Yassen's eyes – pride, pity, resigned determination – and he touches Alex's chin lightly. “Not anymore.”

Alex sneers. “What, you didn't have the heart to just shoot me, so you'll lock me up?”

“Something like that,” Yassen agrees.

----

Alex gets the point when he lets his anger get the better of him and hurls the jug at the door and calls Yassen every name in the book.

There is no food or water that evening, night, whatever time it is. The floor is still damp but dries fast in the dry, air-conditioned atmosphere. Alex goes to sleep thirsty and wakes up with a mouth that feels like sandpaper and saliva that acts like glue.

He doesn't work out that day, just does slow, careful stretches that won't make him sweat.

He's hungry, too, but the thirst is overwhelming. When the door finally opens sometimes in the 'evening' and Yassen appears with a new jug of water and a plate of nutrition bars, Alex doesn't move.

Yassen doesn't put it down but arches an eyebrow in a silent question, and Alex knows without being told that if he gets it wrong, Yassen will leave again.

A healthy adult can go for a week or more without water. Alex isn't an adult but he knows Yassen will have a good idea of what he can handle, and two days without water probably won't kill him.

Yassen's words to him before his first meeting with the executive board comes back to him, unwanted.

Be respectful, obey, never argue.

Yassen doesn't care that he's the one that locked up Alex. He doesn't care that Alex has every right to be angry and throw a fit. He doesn't care that Alex is a teenager and not exactly known for forethought and rational actions.

Thirst battles with pride. Yassen never moves. Finally the man seems to lose his patience. It's more a minute shift of muscles than anything else, but Alex can read it just fine.

Alex swallows. “- I'm sorry,” he says before he can stop himself, before Yassen can leave, and his words sound hoarse to himself. They make his throat hurt, too.

Yassen nods and holds out the water, and Alex accepts it very, very carefully. He forces himself to drink slowly – there's plenty, but he doesn't want to waste it – and when he puts it down, the plate is on the floor, and Yassen is gone again.

--------

The nutrition bars are vanilla flavoured; the cheap sort that's made of chemicals in a lab somewhere and added to everything from discount candy to the sort of milkshakes that come in plastic jugs.

By day five. Alex is ready to throw up from just the smell of chemical vanilla. It takes longer to eat those bars every day. The only reason he manages is because of hunger and the fact that if he doesn't, the smell will stick.

He dumps them in the chemical toilet in a fit of anger on day six. He gets no food on day seven. None on day eight. By the time day nine rolls around and he finally gets food again, that vanilla smell is the best thing ever.

Alex gets the lesson loud and clear.

Be respectful.

------

Yassen greets him with 'Orion' every time but says little else. He answers if Alex asks, but only sometimes. If Alex gets angry, Yassen will leave. If he stays respectful, he will have company for at least a little while.

Yassen calls him Orion. Alex corrects him. It becomes a habit, though Alex's heart isn't really in it. He's tired and bored and lonely, and it's not like Yassen doesn't know about his objections.

On day eleven, Yassen appears with the usual food and drink, for a given definition of the term.

“Orion.”

Alex wonders why he bothers. For the first time, Alex can't be bothered to correct him, too tired to care.

“... Whatever.”

-------

The reading material that appears is Dr Three's most recent work, a two-thousand page monstrosity on torture.

Alex doesn't want to read it but the boredom has become a creature of its own, gnawing slowly at his sanity.

He opens the book.

It takes him three days to finish it. When he does, Yassen spends a long time testing him, question after question on what he's read, and Alex answers to the best of his ability. It's better than the silence.

There is fresh fruit with his dinner that night; apples, grapes, sweet oranges. Alex forces himself to eat slowly and savour it. He eats everything but the stems and peel – and honest, he even tried a bite of that. At least it's not vanilla.

He loses track of the days eventually. He's not sure how. He got to twenty-something and then … forgot. Lost count. Was it twenty-two or three? His mental calendar break down after that. It's not like that matters, either. He's not getting out any time soon. Maybe never, some deep, dark part of his mind acknowledges.

#my writing #alex rider #common--ghost

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shieldwinter · 3 years

Text

At the Garden [Stucky One-Shot]

So this was suppose to be a drabble but then it turned into a short one-shot and I’m not even sorry. To celebrate the NHL coming back, here is Steve taking Bucky to his first Rangers’ game! I am not a Rangers’ fan, so I apologise if anything about MSG or the team doesn’t line up. I tried to keep details of the game to a minimum. It also hurts that I had the Penguins’ lose, but I couldn’t have their first game together be a losing one!

Steve was having trouble containing his excitement as he and Bucky crossed the threshold into Madison Square Garden. In his hand, he held a ticket for the night’s Rangers’ game. A jersey rested on his person, the crest of the team over his chest, with Lundqvist being the name on the back. A Rangers’ hat concealed his hair, and hopefully offered him a bit of disguise.

He offered a glance back at Bucky, who was wearing a Rangers’ jersey himself, Panarin the name adorning it. Steve had picked up the jersey when he bought the tickets, knowing Bucky wouldn’t have something to wear, and wanting them both to blend into the crowd better. His hair was pulled back neatly, and when he caught Steve’s eyes, he offered a smile. “You’re excited,” he pointed out, and Steve felt himself flush, ducking his head down briefly, before focusing on walking through the metal detector, passing easily and handing his ticket off to be scanned. Bucky followed suit, and Steve watched closely as he passed through just fine — his now vibranium arm passing through undetected.

“I had a lot of free time when I wasn’t running missions. Football was never my thing, and with the Dodgers moving across the country, I kind of found myself liking hockey more and more. The dedication, and resilience the players have is unlike anything I’ve seen before,” he explained, stepping to join the crowd moving towards their section. Bucky made a humming noise as he fell into step beside Steve, their shoulders bumping once, then twice. “We had hockey when we were younger,” he supplied, an eyebrow raising as Steve let out a burst of laughter.

“We didn’t have the means to go to games back then, plus it was nothing like it is now. It’s fast, and exciting. Never a dull moment.”

Bucky was smiling at him. The smiles were coming easier for him, and Steve was so happy that he was on the receiving end of many of them. It made him feel elated, and an ease settled over him every time he got those lips to lift up. Up the escalator they went, rising into the upper bowl. The best seats in the place, if Steve had anything to say about it. Hockey was a game you could watch from any angle, but he preferred to be high up compared to sitting against the glass.

“We’re down against the rail,” Steve explained as he led the way to their section. When the usher asked if they needed help finding their seats, he waved him off, and set down the stairs that pitched at a steep angle. The chill off the ice rose up to them, even from this height. The grand scale of the arena opened up to them, the scoreboard at center ice, displaying the countdown to puck drop. When the two found their seats, they plopped down, and Steve breathed in a deep breath, feeling the chill used to keep the ice.

Bucky leaned into him slightly, and he pressed back, glancing over at the other. “It’s pretty,” he commented, eyes glancing around the arena, watching as people filed in to find their own seats. “Who are we playing?”

Steve glanced down at his program, looking at the cover where Chris Kreider was pictured mid-shot. “The Pittsburgh Penguins,” he answered, an eyebrow raising as he flicked pages to the team rosters, looking at the opponents. Bucky’s nose wrinkled, a sight Steve caught from the corner of his eyes. “Pittsburgh? They got a player named Malkin, yeah?”

Steve was surprised, his eyes blinking as he nodded. “Yeah, they do. How’d you know?” “He’s Russian,” Bucky replied simply, leaning over to stare at the roster page opened up, easily finding the player Evgeni Malkin on the page. “I remember hearing his name a few times. Same with other famous Russian ice hockey players. Datsyuk, Ovechkin, maybe a few others. I can’t remember completely.”

Steve felt himself wilt in his seat slightly. He was banking on showing Bucky the ins-and-outs of the sport, but it never occurred to him that he might know some things. Hockey was a famous sport in Russia, their history in the game incredibly important even in modern hockey. Some of the best players in the NHL today were Russian born, and it never crossed Steve’s mind that Bucky might have picked up a thing or two over the years. As if sensing his slight dismay, Bucky looked up at Steve with a signature smirk.

“Don’t get down. I don’t remember ever seeing a game. There’s definitely things I’m not gonna know, if I even know anything. I’m excited to see what’s going to happen, and I want to learn what your supposed new favourite sport has to offer.” And how could Steve not smile at that? He raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, and gave a quick shake of his head. “Nothing will beat baseball, but I’ll be caught dead before I’m a Yankees fan.”

He was greeted by a burst of laughter, which made a grin spread to his lips. “Better not, pal. I can forgive you for a lot of things, but that? I don’t think I could,” Bucky told, straightening back up into his seat as music began to play through the arena, signaling the players were about to skate onto the ice for their pregame warmup.

From there, it was a flurry of ups and downs, from puck drop to the ending buzzer. There was little time for the two to talk outside of intermissions, and even then, between standing in line to get food and an overpriced beer, to watching the screens on the scoreboard play intermissions games, and activities, talking of anything outside the game was small. Near the end of the first period a fight broke out, and Bucky rose out of his seat with a shout, and all Steve could do was watch, enamoured. There were great goals, great plays, and great stops on both sides. Crosby scored, followed by Rust in the first period, but Panarin clapped back with two goals himself early in the second. Bucky was grinning, standing to the goal song each time. In the third, it remained tied for most of the period — until with a little over two minutes left, Zibanejad shot from the point and went high shelf.

Steve rose with Bucky this time with a yell, clapping to the goal song with a grin splitting his cheeks. The crowd around them was loud, and that would be the last goal of the game, the Rangers coming out on too 3-2. It was all they could’ve asked for, a close, high paced game with a fight, and penalties on both ends. The adrenaline was high running even after they left their seats, after they got on the escalator down to the ground floor, and out into the cooling air of downtown Manhattan. Bucky seemed to have an ever present smile on his face since the last horn went off. When the crowd dispersed around him, he turned to face Steve, a shine in his eyes that hadn’t been there in a while.

“That was fantastic,” Bucky said, reaching out to grip at Steve’s forearm. “I loved every second. You were right, I can see why you took a shine to it.” Steve felt relieved with how much Bucky enjoyed himself. It was a gamble, that the bright lights and crowd wouldn’t be too much for him, but he was grateful he took that gamble. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself. It helps that they won,” he responded, laying his hand over Bucky’s.

There was a moment, where they caught each other’s eyes and Steve’s breath was stolen, stuttering in his chest when Bucky leaned forward and rose up on his feet, to press a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said, voice soft. “For thinking of me, and bringing me. I know you had your options open. Clint probably would’ve enjoyed it.”

Steve, flustered beyond belief, shook his head. “Nah, I bought these tickets with you in mind. You’re always gonna be my favourite plus one.” A softer smile this time, appeared on Bucky’s lips. One that was almost shy, one that was definitely reserved for just Steve.

“Damn right.” He responded, before dropping his hand to lace his fingers with Steve’s, and offering a tug, heading down to find themselves a taxi to take back to the tower. All Steve could think was that they had to do this again. They had to, because he wasn’t sure Bucky smiled this much in such a short span of time in so long.

#stucky #stucky fic #stevebucky #wintershield #starbucks #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #the winter soldier

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projectomerta · 3 years

Text

DBH Bodyguard - Chapter 4: Blood Bath

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human

Words: 2674

Although it felt like an eternity from the outside, it only took a second for gunshots to go off inside the fake restaurant. As the shots started, Layla counted the ones coming from Connor’s glock. He used the exact same gun she had used for a long time now, so she could easily tell the difference, especially since the Jins never used Glocks. She was glad to hear Connor firing the first shot.

One. Two. Three. There was a pause, as continuous machine gun sounds went off. He’s fine, he must be taking cover, somehow… She got closer to the restaurant door so she could hear better, and Connor

started shooting again. Four. Five... Six. Seven. A cold sweat ran down her cheek. He should’ve already killed all of them… There are supposed to be six people inside the restaurant, I didn’t see him miss a single shot at Cyberlife… Did that fucker lie to us?! Layla gave up on counting and decided to just wait.

The blonde started pulling her collar away from her neck, as it stuck due to her sweating. Her clothes were too far too warm, but she couldn’t bring herself to complain about Connor’s clothing choices at that moment. She pulled her sleeves up and started pacing around, ignoring the slight pain in her gut. She was taking deep breaths and exhaling as hard as she could. Now her legs were sweaty and the sweatpants did nothing to stop the small gusts of wind to make her feel cold.

Silence. The gunshots inside the restaurant finally stopped and Layla felt like time had stopped. It was like nothing was happening now, which somehow worried her far more than the bullets flying around in a building just in front of her. The silence didn’t last long as she started hearing police sirens going off. Fuck. Just what we needed. Her heart was going twice as fast now. Layla Jane Evans! Calm the fuck down! The police want nothing to do with gangs and you know it. I sure hope none of’em are dumb enough to stick their noses in our business.

The restaurant door finally opened, and Layla reached for her knife. A figure came out and she recognized him as soon as she saw the flickering LED on his temple - it was Connor, of course. Without giving it any thought, she immediately hugged him, wrapping her arms around him - it just felt natural. A bit too natural. She chuckled internally. A month ago she was yelling at her father for replacing Andrew so quickly after his death, and now look at her… I sure moved on fast, huh Andrew? Was it even love? Connor is an android, he doesn’t feel anything.

“Miss!” Connor yelled, shaking her by the shoulders.

“Ah! What?!” She asked, startled.

“Hurry! We need to interrogate Peter Song before the police get here.”

“Huh?! Who the fuck is Peter Song?!”

“The man who knows about Kwan!” Without delay, Connor storms back into the restaurant.

“How the f-” She whispered, giving up midway and going after Connor. On the inside, she saw a bloodbath. So that fucker did lie to us… She expected to find five corpses and a restrained man, but Connor had drenched the whole place in blood. There were at least twelve people lying dead on the floor with no more than one bullet in them, a view reminiscent of the previous month’s incident. The smell of blood in the air coated her nostrils and it was sickening. At the back of the restaurant, tied to a chair with a naked woman by his feet, there was a man struggling to set himself free.

Layla looked at the woman’s terrified expression and realized that, not only was she dead, she was an android. “Connor, did you kill her too?”

“I didn’t do anything to her. But she isn’t dead, Miss. Androids don’t die.” Connor’s eyes quickly moved from Layla’s figure to the man on the chair. “Peter Song, tell us everything about the android named ‘Kwan’.”

The man spat on Connor’s face, though the android didn’t even flinch, but Layla reacted more than enough for the both of them. She swiped one of the guns Connor was holding and shot Peter on the left foot, making him scream in pain.

“Kwan killed Andrew Willem, right?” She coldly asked.

Peter gritted his teeth in pain. “You bitch!” He managed to say. He felt brave right up to the moment when Layla shoved her glock right up to his forehead.

“Don’t try me.” She said, she threatened. “Answer my damn question.”

“Yes, he killed Evans' bodyguard…”

“Now, what about Kwan?” Connor questioned. “Who sent him to you, and why?”

Peter was now looking at Connor, but even in all the pain he was in he didn’t move anything but his eyes - the gun pointed to his head made sure of that. The man was profusely sweating now, and the only thing he felt more than pain was fear. So much so that you could see it in his face.

“He was sent by a Russian man, but I’ve never seen him,” Peter sighed in pain.

In the corner of her eye, Layla noticed Connor’s LED flickering and turning yellow for a bit, but didn’t think twice about it.

“What’s his name, Peter?” Connor asked.

The korean man took a deeper breath before talking. “We call him Mr. Orlov, but I don’t know his first name, I promise!”

Connor’s LED lit up in a red light as he looked at Layla. She had only seen his LED light up red in dangerous instances, so why during an interrogation? She was somewhat frightened and wanted to ask Connor why he felt like they - or at least he - were in a dangerous situation, but he left nothing to the imagination. As soon as they’d looked at each other, the android started talking.

“Orlov is my handler’s last name as well, Miss. Unless this is a coincidence, Dimitri is playing both sides of this war.” He said, as his LED turned blue.

Layla had a thousand things going through her head at that moment, it was like a storm. She wanted to shoot Peter, but she heard the police coming. She wasn’t worried about getting arrested, her last name would probably be enough to get her out of it and the police wouldn’t. The real beast was Dimitri who had apparently betrayed them, or at least wasn’t on anybody’s side. She kept mulling over everything but she just couldn’t find a solution.

It was then that the volume of the police cars’ sirens peaked, before completely halting. They could hear the police talking outside and with his LED flickering red, Connor started making his way outside, cocking his gun, but Layla put a hand on his shoulder and called out to him, making the android stop.

“Why are you stopping me? I should neutralize the threat before it becomes a problem.” His LED turned yellow.

By putting her index finger over her lips, Layla told Connor to stay quiet, as she took a few steps towards the entrance and bid her time. A minute went by before they could hear any sound, which was a sudden burst of cursing and questions. “Fuck!”, “Why?!” and “Why the fuck not?!” were the major expressions coming from the policemen outside, which gave the blonde some hope. Their higher ups probably won’t let them take action unless they know they can catch some big fish. After the cursing settled down, they heard the police cars driving away, now with no sirens on.

Peter let out a groan attracting the duo’s attention. He was frustrated that he couldn’t clutch his foot, due to being tied up and his gritted teeth were a clear sign of what he was feeling. His grunts were the only sound filling the room up, and the lack of overwhelming noise, or even talking, let Layla calm down and settle down on a course of action. She lifted her arm up, pointing her gun at Peter. She aimed and was ready to fire. With a short sigh, Layla let her arm down, turned around and handed Connor her gun. Then, facing Peter once again, she directed a few words at the android.

“You do it, the recoil fucked me up earlier.”

In a smooth motion, Connor pointed Layla’s gun at Peter’s head and shot it immediately, killing the man less than a second after being ordered to do so. Layla watched as the android robotically killed Petter, every single one of his actions leading perfectly to the next one. ‘Soulless like a corpse and precise like a metronome’ - that’s how Layla saw him then. Upon looking at Peter’s corpse, however, her eyebrows went as far up as they could go from the surprise of what she was seeing. There was a bullethole in the middle of his forehead, but that was normal, what really surprised her was his expression: Peter Song had died with a smile, maybe a smirk, on his face, much to Layla’s annoyance.

With a bad taste in her mouth and the iron-like smell of blood now coating the insides of her nostrils, Layla left the restaurant with Connor, exchanging no words with him in the process - not until they had gotten to the car. Layla sat on the passenger seat once more, forcing the android to break the silence by asking her where they were going.

“We’re going back to see my father. We need to know about Dimitri.”

“Miss, it’s 8 PM. According to Mr. Evans’ schedule, he should be home by now, not at the office.”

“He’s probably fucking Sharon right about now.” She pouted. “We have more than enough time to get there before he goes home…”

Connor’s LED blinked for a second before he tried asking something. “Mr. Evans-”

“Connor, just drive.” Layla ordered. Much to her pleasure, Connor drove off almost as soon as he was told to, taking them to get answers, once more.

…

It was now 8:27PM. They were now inside the Evans Corporation building. It was eerily quiet, especially without Steven and the other receptionists there to greet them. Both Layla and Connor knew that the elevators shouldn’t be working by then but the blonde still insisted they checked it out in case her father wasn’t feeling like walking down all the way to the 26th floor. To her surprise and the android’s as well, the elevator was working. There was nothing else to do but accept their luck and go up the elevator.

Layla raised her eyebrow in confusion when the small screen by the buttons displayed an arrow that indicated that the elevator was coming down. What the fuck? Who’s visiting my dad at this hour? She simply brushed it off. Someone could’ve just forgotten something, afterall.

The elevator made a “ding” sound as it stopped at their destination -the 26th floor. Connor and Layla walked straight to Oscar’s office, as fast as they could. As they got to Sharon’s desk, Layla expected to find it empty, and empty she found it. Sharon was nowhere to be seen, as fucking expected… The carpet covered the whole floor but, for some reason, Layla’s eyes were dead set on the part around Sharon’s desk. Meanwhile, Connor knocked on the door.

“Mr. Evans. It’s Connor. Me and your daughter have something we need to ask you.”

Layla looked at the door for a second, while they waited for confirmation, but quickly looked back at the carpet, as their only answer had been silence. Jesus, does it take that long for him to pull his pants up?! Resigned to waiting, she walked closer to Sharon’s desk, until she finally noticed what had been drawing her attention to the carpet, the whole time. It was redder than usual. Maybe the cleaners messed up here. She crouched down and touched it, touching her fingers in the process. She gasped. There was no need to think twice about it - it was blood. Layla went around the desk, making her gut ache in the process. There, she found Steven, lying dead on the floor, with a bullet hole in his chest.

To say her heartbeat became erratic was an understatement. Adrenaline kicked in and she was terrified of what could possibly be going on, on their own turf, of all places. In the midst of all of that, she managed to make a rational decision. Gritting her teeth in pain, she pulled up Steven’s body in order to warn Connor without making noise.

“Connor!” She whispered.

The android turned his head and noticed the body. His LED flashed a couple of times before becoming a vivid red color, matching the carpet. He looked at the door, as if examining it, and with little to no momentum, he kicked it down, and then, chaos ensued.

As soon as the door went down, Connor spotted someone on the other side, and pointed his gun at them, but before he could react, a bullet hit his shoulder, making him drop his glock. Before Connor could get his gun back, another gunshot was heard, which alerted Connor, making him look at his assailant. Before he could make out a face, he was tackled down, with strength he never thought possible, coming from a human.

Layla, startled by all the sounds coming from the office, planted her eyes and her gun at the entrance, where Connor once stood. As he exited from the office, Layla managed to make out who it was. Conn- no. Kwan. Even though he was running, she was weirdly aware of every detail. Instead of shooting, she simply followed his head with her gun, unable to shoot someone who looked someone so similar to Connor. As Kwan went around the corner in the direction of the emergency stairs, Layla felt like time had stopped.

What she saw in that split second was enough to give her all the courage and detachment she needed to shoot him. She found a difference. His eyes were grayish blue. So, with no more hesitation in her heart, she shot at Kwan, hitting him on the knee. The first shot made him trip and hit the wall, so she kept shooting at the same spot until his leg gave out. He tried shooting back but Layla shot his gun out of his hand.

Connor came out of the office and looked both ways, his LED was red, but it quickly flickered to yellow as he confusedly turned his head left and right, looking at Layla and Kwan each time. Finally accepting that Layla had single handedly taken out an android, his LED became blue, and he turned to Layla.

“He killed Mr. Evans and Sharon. Good job taking him alive, Miss.”

What?!

She couldn’t process what she had just heard, so she stormed into the office as Connor made his way to Kwan. Upon entering, her heart, her head and her stomach all sunk in perfect synchrony. Her father sat lifeless on his chair, with a bullet hole on the left side of his chest, identical to Steven’s. Sharon’s body was on the floor, with blood pouring out of numerous bullet holes across various parts of her body.

Seeing this, Layla couldn’t help herself but to cry out uncontrollably. Her eyes turned to waterfalls and the sobs and heavy breathing became screams and desperate pleads. She knew what a life of crime entailed, but to have possibly been betrayed by a business partner made it even worse. For some inexplicable reason, this solidified Dimitri as a traitor, in her head, and she was dead set on finding him.

Wiping out the tears from her eyes and putting on the bravest face she could, she got up and steeled her nerves. She was now the leader of Evans Corporation - of the Evans Family. Crying can wait, I’ve done more than enough of that. First, comes revenge, mourning can come later.

#DBH #Detroit Become Human #oc #original character #fanfic #fanfiction #Connor

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