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osamusriceballs · 1 year

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More than friends

Osamu Miya x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, dry humping, alcohol

Words: ~3.7 k

About: A night drinking with Atsumu and Osamu leads to an unexpected ending~

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“C’mn, just do it.“

“Shut it, Tsumu. I’m not gonna do it.“

You silently watch Atsumu laughing even louder than before and Osamu rolling his eyes with a huff. The three of you are seated comfortably in the spacious living room of the twins, a few empty bottles of beer between you, as well as a clear bottle of strong alcohol.

“You’re not doing the dare? Not even telling y/n what it was?“

“No, I’m not. Just keep quiet for once, will ya?“

Atsumu’s smug grin doesn’t falter for a second when he downs another shot and reluctantly gets on his feet. Osamu scoffs at his childish behavior and ignores his existence completely.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Got a practice scheduled early with Bokkun tomorrow. See ya.“

Atsumu waves in your direction and smacks Osamu’s shoulder before he abruptly leaves, his shoulders slightly swaying with each drunken step that he takes before you finally hear the door to his room closing. You doubt that he will make it to practice early tomorrow, and you take a mental note to send a text to Bokuto, warning him that he shouldn’t wait for the blonde setter.

However, right now you’re painfully aware of the situation that you now find yourself in. Your hand tightens around the bottle of beer that you’re holding, your gaze now flickering between the table and Osamu, quickly taking in his appearance. His hair is messy from the way he‘s been running through it ever since you three gathered to drink, his broad shoulders almost threaten to rip the tight black dress shirt that clings to his body, and his spread legs almost invite you to sit in between them. He doesn’t look at you either, his gaze absently focusing the wall behind you, and you feel the weird atmosphere like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

You clear your throat and try to overcome this moment of awkwardness, but it doesn’t seem to work.

Talking with Atsumu is easy. He’s always rambling about something, laughing, or talking about a certain Omi-omi that seems to annoy him very much.

Talking with Osamu on the other hand… He makes you nervous. He makes you blush, he makes your heart flutter, he makes you wonder about more.

“So… what’s the big deal? Why wouldn’t you do the dare?“

He groans and his eyes focus on you again. There is something about his gaze that never fails to send a shiver down your spine. He often has sleepy and heavy-lidded eyes, but when he directly looks at you and puts all of his focus on you- that‘s when your heart always stops a beat. This man will surely be the death of yours.

“You don’t wanna know. Trust me.“

“C’mon, don’t be a party popper. It can’t be that bad if it’s Atsumu’s idea.“

“You’re wrong. It is that bad because it's Atsumu’s idea.“

His lips curl into a smile and he looks down to your empty shot glass, clearly trying to change the subject, which only intrigues you more about it. “You want another?“

“Sure. Tell me about the dare first though.“ You grin and hand him the small shot glass, and he groans again, his head falling back in playful annoyance before he takes the glass out of your hand and starts pouring the clear liquid into it and then into his own.

“I just wanna make clear that it was Atsumu’s idea. He wanted me to kiss you. Told ya, it was stupid.“

The way he doesn’t even hesitate to say it, his voice not even trembling nor is his gaze nervously flickering. He nonchalantly states this without giving it a second thought- and it feels like he just punched you.

“Oh. Okay.“ You force a laugh out of your mouth, a laugh that sounds forced and fake and cringe, even to your ears.

You’re absolutely sure that kissing Osamu would be great. However, not that you would ever get the chance to try. He rolls his eyes and simply hands you the full shot glass, his hand not touching yours for even a single second, like you’d burn him through physical contact.

“Don’t think about it please.“

“Okay.“ You take the full shot glass out of his hand and down it without a second thought. He does the same with his shot, and you admire his side profile for a brief second before your gaze starts to roam through the room again.

It’s silent.

Very much silent.

Your own breathing sounds too loud in the quiet room and you nervously grab your beer once again and take a few sips, but Osamu doesn’t move. You can’t look at him though, your gaze now trained to your own hands. You feel somehow rejected, even though you didn’t say anything. Did the mere thought of him kissing you seem so absurd to him? Sure, you both never really showed that kind of interest in particular, but you thought some of your conversations resembled some kind of flirting, and the way he always looked at you never failed to send butterflies to your stomach. Seems like these feelings were completely one-sided though.

A few more moments of silents later that are barely manageable and you decide to call it a day.

“I’m gonna go too. It’s getting pretty late. See ya.“

You force a smile on your face, a smile that you hope looks neutral and not like you’re trying to get the hell out of the apartment, but you’re caught off-guard when he blinks in an irritated way.

“Already? You know you can stay as long as you want. You can sleep on the couch if ya want to.“ He nods towards the luxurious couch in the living room, the one that feels like heaven whenever you slept on it, but now you just want to escape out of the suffocating atmosphere. Every second in his presence just makes the situation more tense.

“No, it’s fine. Really.“ You abruptly get on your feet and quickly take some of the empty glasses and bottles in your hands, not wanting to leave him to clean up the whole mess you three created.

„It’s fine, y/n. I can clean up later.“ Osamu’s voice behind your back is accompanied with the sound of rustling glasses and bottles, and you know that he probably took the remaining dishes with him.

“I can’t leave you with such a mess. I’m sure Atsumu will be too hungover to help you tomorrow, so I don’t mind giving you a hand right now.“ You quickly place the last few dirty glasses in the sink and hurry towards the front door.

You’re sure that Osamu can quickly get rid of the remaining mess, so you basically run towards the front door before he can confront you about your strange behavior.

“Y/n!“

“Hmm?“ You just managed to pull on your coat and turn around- only to find Osamu right in front of you. You take a step back in surprise, but he follows you, one big stride and your back is pressed against the front door, and Osamu is towering in front of you. Your bodies are not touching, there is still some space between the two of you, yet, his sudden approaching sends even more heat to your cheeks, that have probably been burning red ever since you started to drink.

“Ya don’t have to rush.“

His dialect is thick now, his voice somewhat quiet. His eyes are focused on yours, and you forget to breathe for a second- when he looks at you as intently as he does, studying every single of your reactions, and it feels like he casts a spell on you that makes your heart beat faster. He looks so insanely handsome in the dimmed light, his disheveled hair falling into his face, the black strands healthy and smooth after he had stopped dyeing his hair a few years ago. It makes you want to touch them, to brush the hair out of his face to see his eyes better, to bury your hands into his hair, to grab his broad shoulders and press your chest against his-

“I’m not rushing. It’s just late, you know.“ You force another polite smile on your face, a smile that doesn't feel convincing at all judging from his reaction.

“Okay.“ He hesitantly nods after studying your face for another second and takes a small step back, just enough for you to be able to open the door. When you take a step towards his direction though, he suddenly grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him, with enough force to have you stumbling the single step, but his free arm quickly wraps around your hip and keeps you from falling.

You’re too shocked to say something, you probably look like a fish out of the water with your mouth wide open and your widened eyes, yet he doesn’t release you nor lets go of you. You’re painfully aware of the small distance between the two of you- or rather: the non-existent distance, and you feel your heart racing in your chest with your body pressed against his. His hand around your wrist is warm, his grip tight, yet gentle- but your brain just fails completely at understanding what’s going on.

He leans down and suddenly releases your wrist to cup your chin, tilting your face until your eyes directly meet- and that’s when you forget how to breathe. Your body feels stiff and hot while you’re being pressed against him, and you subconsciously bring your hands to his chest to create some distance between the two of you, but he doesn’t even budge the slightest bit.

“Are ya upset? That I didn’t kiss ya?”

“What- what are you talking about?” You wiggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter for a second. He brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips when he’s talking again, his voice deeper this time, more attractive.

“What would you have done if I kissed ya? Tell me, y/n.” You pause with your movements, staying completely frozen and unable to move.

“I- I don’t know.” Your breath come shallow, you feel like there is not enough oxygen coming to your brain and leaving you in a hazy and hot state- and it’s hot, oh, so hot, the way his gaze flickers to your lips and then to your eyes again.

“Wanna find out then?”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, but you’re not pushing him away. You can barely focus when he comes even closer, so close that his lips are slightly touching yours, and you involuntarily close your eyes and lean forward, just a little bit to close the distance between the two of you.

His hand on your hip freezes for a second, now it’s his body that seems surprisingly stiff, now that you simply decided to kiss Osamu Miya- but he quickly regains composure and initiates a deeper kiss- still soft and delicate, his hand gingerly cupping your cheek and tilting your face to kiss you in a deeper angle. Your lips move against his, the addicting feeling of him kissing you so tenderly slowly creating a feeling of hunger in your body. Your heart rate goes through the roof for sure, but you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing you like that, when he is holding you like you would break if he just applied too much pressure. “Samu-“ you gasp when he pulls back to let you both breathe, his forehead resting against yours, and his hand now moving to your lower back to hold you steady.

“Y/n,” he whispers against your lips and takes a deep breath. You’re barely able to comprehend what’s going on, and you feel your body trembling in his hold, yet you still don’t move back.

Osamu Miya just kissed you, and it was great. So great that you want more kisses- more of him, that you’re growing greedy for more.

“Would you have kissed me back in front of Tsumu?”

“Can we please not talk about your twin brother now?” You huff at his words, not believing that he has the nerve to talk about that when you’re still in his arms, growing hotter every second- probably also due to the thick winter coat you’re still wearing.

“I need to take off the coat, Samu. Or leave- what do you want me to do now?”

You look directly in his eyes while you say the words, knowing fully well that your words carry a second meaning. Does he want you to stay? Did the kiss mean something to him? Or did he just want to proof something to himself?

“I’m fine with whatever you decide. You can leave, or you can stay. You can sleep on the couch, or sleep with me. I’m following your pace, y/n.”

“I-“ you’re caught off-guard at his words, barely able to realize that he let go of you and just stands there without touching you, patiently waiting for your answer.

“I want to stay.”

“Okay.” He nods with a small smile, quickly stepping closer and helping you out of the coat like a true gentleman.

“Thanks.” You smile back, excitement but also nervousness making you shiver, but Osamu is quickly by your side again after putting away your coat and takes your hand to lead you to the living room.

“Where do ya wanna sleep? I can get the couch ready in a minute if ya want to.”

“I… I want to sleep with you.” You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, and you hope that you don’t look too flustered while you’re avoiding his gaze, but he squeezes your hand reassuringly and thankfully refrains from replying with a mocking comment.

“Your pace. Tell me when yer uncomfortable. I can always go and sleep on the couch.”

His words are reassuring, and that's what you admire about him. Osamu will always care about your feelings first- that’s just the way he is.

The way to his room is short, it only takes you both a few steps, but his hand holds yours softly until you reach his room.

“Here, I got a shirt for ya.” He hands you a dark, clean shirt from his drawer and nods towards the bathroom, signaling you that you can change there.

“Thank you.”

You quickly come back with his shirt on, a quite comfortable one thankfully, and decide that you will sleep with no pants- not daring to remove them already though. Osamu is already ready to sleep, sitting shirtless on the bed with the blanket covering his lower half, that you assume is only clothed in a pair of boxers. You probably shouldn‘t stare too much, but you can‘t stop your eyes from flickering down to his broad chest and to his strong arms, but he doesn’t seem to mind you eyeing him up.

He raises a brow though and smiles after scanning your figure for a few seconds, and his gaze heats up your cheeks once again. He suddenly nods and flicks a switch next to his bed, and the room immediately darkens. You can barely see his silhouette when you finally sit on the bed after quickly removing your pants.

“I’m just gonna lay here?” You ask, now slightly regretting not being able to see his face. An agreeing hum leaves him, and you quickly slip under the covers next to Osamu. You don‘t dare to move though, your body awkwardly laying on the edge of the bed.

It’s silent for a few moments, and you internally debate whether he has already fallen asleep, or if he’s laying just as stiff as you. His breathing pattern sounds relaxed, but you can’t help but to wish that you were closer to him. Would he mind if you just slipped a little closer?

You carefully inch your body closer to his, trying to cause as few movement and sounds on the bed as possible, but when you accidentally touch his bare arm, you can hear his breath stock. His hand suddenly comes up and grabs your upper arms and before you know what’s happening, you find yourself under him.

“Samu-“ you gasp, but your gasp gets interrupted when you feel his lips against yours. Not in the same way as before- there is nothing soft about it. It’s hungry and needy, his tongue flicking against your lip to urge you to open your mouth for him- which you gladly do with a low moan.

It just feels right. To lay in Osamu’s arms, to have his lips on yours, to feel his bodyweight on top of you- it all feels so intimate and good-

“I like ya. A lot.” He suddenly rasps between your kisses, his voice now thick and clouded with lust, and he kisses you again, deeper with more fever. You deepen the kiss as response, your hands slipping under his shirt and roam to his wide shoulders, feeling his bare skin, feeling how the muscles tense under your touch. You slightly scratch him with your nails- not enough to hurt him, but enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck, yer drivin’ me crazy.” He pulls back and groans against your neck at the sensation of your nails against his back, his hips suddenly bucking into yours, and you arch your back at the feeling of his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

“Shit, Samu- do that again-“ you gasp, your head thrown back, and you moan his name again when he grinds against you a little harder, the friction sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your legs wrap around his body, spreading you even more for him, and you’re pretty sure that he will be able to feel how wet you are for him even through both of your underwear, yet it only spurs him on further and he props himself up on his elbows and thrusts his hips in a slow rhythm.

“Feels really good, Samu,” you let one of your hands wander to his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every thrust he’s doing, feeling his heartbeat that is just as fast as yours.

“Imagine how good it would feel without clothes. When I- fuck- when I fuck you as hard and long as you want. Make ya nice and wet for me, make ya cum on my tongue, my fingers- and then- thenI would fuck ya with my cock.” You feel your cunt pulsing with every single of his words- fuck- why is Osamu Miya so good at dirty talk? Who would have thought that the ever so calm and collected Osamu would have such a dirty mouth?

“Please, Samu- want to feel you, want you to fuck me.” You whine, desperately rubbing yourself against him, and you hear him curse, you feel him throb in his boxers, but he just goes harder- not faster but harder, as if he wants to force the orgasm out of you by sheer friction against your sensitive clit.

“C’mon, y/n. Be a good girl and show me what ya look like when yer cummin’. Want ya to cum for me now, pretty girl-“ his lips are attached to your neck now, greedily sucking and biting the skin, leaving a few marks for sure- but you don’t care. Not when he’s got you so close to cumming, not when you feel like you could burst any second.

And you do.

A few more thrusts later, and you feel yourself cumming, the friction against your clothed clit enough to send you to heaven, and you grab his shoulders while you scream his name. Your body arches up, your muscles deliciously tensing and contracting, the heat now almost consuming you. So much that you barely realize that he kept on groaning your name and whispers of praises, of how pretty you look when you cum for him, how you’re such a good girl for him, how he wants you to keep cumming just for him- and you do.

You don’t know how much time has passed, when you suddenly realize that he’s cumming too- that his body tenses and he suddenly grabs your shoulders with his body weight almost crushing you, but you don’t mind it. You feel his cock twitching against your core, and a wet sensation and you swear he makes the hottest sounds you have ever heard when he’s groaning your name and moans against your skin.

Both of your chests are heaving heavily, and you barely realize that he rolls to his side and presses you against his chest to avoid crushing you completely. Not that you would have minded that. You wrap your shaky legs around him and push him closer, not caring about the fact that you’re both covered in sweat. His hands rest on your back, his right one rubbing circles on your back and softly caresses your skin under the shirt you’re still wearing, and you contently hum against his chest.

He easily manages to make you feel comfortable and worshiped, to show his affection to you with his little gestures.

“Ya wanna eat somethin’? I have your favorite onigiri in the fridge. Or do ya wanna take a shower? Or a bath?” His chest vibrates against your cheek while he’s talking, and you feel your heart swell with affection at his caring words.

“I’m too worn out for anything. How about breakfast in bed tomorrow and then a bath together?”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you can basically feel his smile when he answers. “Sounds like a good plan. We also need to talk about “us“ when we get up.”

Your breath stocks for a second at his words, a sudden panic suddenly growing in your chest.

“So… that means there is a “us“ now?”

“I came in my underwear from dry humping ya. In case ya can’t tell, that makes us more than just friends.” You can’t see his face but you know that he’s rolling his eyes while he reassuringly rubs your back and still refuses to let you go.

“More than friends, hum?” You muse, while he keeps on rubbing circles on your back, and you know that he won't let you go tonight- or ever.

“Sounds good.”

#haikyuu fanfiction #smut #osamu x reader #osamu smut #osamu #osamu miya #well #first thing I wrote this year #happy valentine's day #!!! <3 #wishing you all a wonderful day!! <3 #feels good to write again <3 #I'm working already on a few other things!#so I'm sure I'll be able to post more soon <3 #i feel like I’ll get to my old level if I write some more #need to practice I’m definitely rusty 🥹🥹

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a-rabbit-obsessed-queer · 14 days

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Aspec men deserve much more respect and recognition in the aspec community than they receive. They often face a different form of aphobia specific to them ("men are naturally sexual they can't be ace" "all men are unromantic that's not unique") this rhetoric is spouted by many, even members of our own community and I hope for a day where that is no longer the case. As an ace and demiro woman (demigirl but that's beside the point) I want to encourage folks to take the time to give the aspec men in their lives support and to the aspec men reading, you are who you say you are no matter what people say and you deserve the world. I'm sorry for the ways in which toxic masculinity has harmed you. You are a valued member of the aspec community and the queer community as a whole. No ace or aro person is broken and neither are you. I'm sorry if anyone has ever told you otherwise.

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haemosexuality · 8 months

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i love life

#things that are coming out this next+next year #fionna and cake #adventure time #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #little nightmares #little nightmares 3 #silksong #hollow night #deltarune #the magnus protocol #just noticed i wrote the first tag wrong no one look at me #its supposed to be this year+next year

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seoafin · 10 months

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shoko x f!reader (main pairing); gojo satoru x f!reader x geto suguru 1.2k words; no warnings just general high school clownery!!! part of the summertime record series

There's an unsettling feeling that creeps over you as you approach the door to your classroom. It's so potent that you pause for a second, hand lingering in the air before you slide the door open.

You take in the scene before you.

It’s an unusual sight, but you’ve come to realize that unusual has become the norm when it comes to your new classmates. Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru, two powerful jujutsu sorcerers who had taken to each other immediately, for better and for worse.

Geto is gripping Gojo’s wrist, pinning the white haired boy’s outstretched right arm to the desk, the weight of his body hunched over and leveled against Gojo's own to ensure he stays put. Gojo is struggling to use his remaining hand to pull his other one away, but it’s futile against Geto’s ironclad grip.

There is a knife in Shoko’s hand. A regular knife for food preparation that must have been swiped from the kitchen.

The knife is poised right above Gojo’s wrist.

"Let’s just—” Gojo’s voice pitches high, “wait wait wait wait—"

You stare.

Three gazes turn to you. Gojo’s sunglasses are askew on his face, face feverish with a rising panic.

"Ah, perfect timing." Shoko smiles pleasantly. You stare some more. Then in a perfectly amicable tone she gestures to the katana slung over your shoulder. “We're testing Gojo’s limitless. Can I borrow your katana?"

You wordlessly slide the sheath off your shoulder and hand it to her.

"Sell out!" Gojo condemns, squirming and floundering underneath Geto’s body. You observe that he looks like a miserable fish gasping for air on dry land.

Shoko turns to you, straight faced. "This is for science."

Despite the arduous task of restraining the aforementioned male, Geto only looks slightly winded as his lips curl into another perfectly pleasant smile matching Shoko’s own. “Please,” he says congenially, in a tone that would suggest anything but the cold blooded torture about the ensue. He nods at an empty seat in front of a spare desk. “Enjoy the show.”

“This is my hand we’re talking about—!”

A particularly bony elbow slams into Geto’s chest as you take a seat. Geto remains unfazed. You sit with a wide yawn in an attempt to chase away the last stubborn dredges of sleep.

"I can reattach it." Ieiri says. You can sense the flow of reverse cursed energy in her fingertips as she flexes them. She shrugs. "I think."

Gojo balks, whiter than a ghost. "O-kay. I'm sorry. Hear that Suguru? I said I'm sorry! I won't do it again!”

Even to your ears, it doesn’t sound particularly sincere.

Geto must come to the same conclusion, because he pretends not to hear.

The apologies take a sharp turn. “It’s not my fault you tripped like an idiot into that curse’s mouth—”

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Geto interrupts.

He turns to Shoko who holds your unsheathed katana with steady hands. Light dances over the blade, sharp enough that a stray finger on the flat edge could easily draw blood. It’s a beautiful blade, on loan to you from the Kamo family. Your favorite one out of the many that have passed your hands. Most katana users you’ve come to find, are particularly possessive over their blades, like they would a lover, but you think this one looks right at home in Shoko’s elegant hands.

Gojo eyes the prized blade as if it’s the evilest thing to have graced his presence. You know this because it’s an even worse, beadier look than the one he used to give you. Now he only looks at you as if he doesn’t quite know what to say to you now that the two of you have settled into a tentative kind of relationship-not-friendship. You don't miss his antagonism. It's a welcome change.

Shoko levels the sharp blade of your katana against Gojo’s long index finger, above the knuckle. In response, as a last resort, the fingers curl against the desk, ensuring a messy cut.

"Hm,” a slow smile spreads over her face. “A finger? Or the wrist?"

Geto's smile is merciless. It comes easier to him than you would have originally expected. "All of it.”

There’s a yelp. Something utterly incomprehensible leaves Gojo’s mouth. You think it could be his spirit ejecting itself from his body, floating into the air.

There’s a glint in Shoko’s eyes. "Roger that."

A rush of cursed energy fills the katana, imbuing it with malicious intentions.

There is no clear indication of the infinity shrouding Gojo’s body other than the presence of his cursed energy, but you know it has to be in effect because as Shoko furiously saws at the appendage, the blade never sinks into flesh. Sweat forms on Gojo’s brow as he stares intently at the portion of invisible space right above his wrist.

With bated breaths, the three of you stare.

The sawing stops. “Huh, it really doesn’t go through.” Shoko remarks flippantly, stepping away with a shrug. “A shame.”

Geto sighs, loosening his grip.

Gojo springs away with a shaky bark of laughter, too far away from Geto and Shoko and you to be anything but the intention to maintain a distance.

“Of course it wouldn’t have gone through,” he snaps. The relief is evident on his face as he straightens his wrinkled uniform. He waves an accusatory finger at the three of you. “Now you’ve all had your fun!”

Geto and Shoko look too disappointed, without any hint of remorse on their faces.

“Pfft.”

It slips from your mouth before you can help it. Your lips wobble despite your attempt to stifle the laughter growing in your stomach by firmly pressing your lips shut.

Your loud laughter envelopes the room as Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko stare at you, slack mouthed.

“I’m…” the remnants of laughter wrack your body, “sorry…”

You hadn’t meant to laugh. You think it’s been a long time since you last laughed.

Gojo’s usual black sunglasses have slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing the wide blue expanse of his eyes. “You laugh?”

“I do,” you answer seriously.

Then you smile widely. The motion is still unfamiliar to your lips but you find it’s a bit easier now. There are things to smile about now. The friendly shrine cats, the warmth of the sun on your skin when you settle down to take a nap, Shoko’s laughter. There’s a raised empty bed of soil in front of the dorms. No flowers or plants. Yaga-sensei had told you that the contractors had been recalled before anything could begin. Then he handed you a book on horticulture.

You don’t know much about plants or flowers or gardening, but you’d like to start.

“You’re dumb,” Shoko directs towards him as she takes the seat next to you. “And you,” Shoko says to Geto. “You’ll catch flies.”

Geto’s mouth snaps shut. You find that he doesn’t meet your eyes, but Shoko easily leans her head against your shoulder and you don’t think much of anything but the weight of her and how good she smells.

In the next second, Yaga-sensei steps into the class, and levels the four of you with a suspicious look.

“Class is starting,” he says, raising an eyebrow when he sees Shoko pressed close to you. Before he turns to the blackboard, you catch a glimpse of a smile. “The four of you in your seats.”

For the first time in a long time, you stay awake through a lesson.

#this was one of the very first things i wrote jjk centered like 2-3?? years ago wowwwwww #in celebration of the first ep tmmr!#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #str #m.jjk

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embroid-away · 1 year

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What If: Captain America Were Revived Today? #44 (April 1983) by Peter B. Gillis and Sal Buscema; Original Image by John Romita Sr.

In this What If? Marvel tale, Captain America is unfrozen in 1983 rather than the 1960s. Without the leadership of Steve Rogers, The Avengers disband. Meanwhile, a Captain America imposter, who calls himself a "real American," has decided to use his newfound influential media status to publicly support a National Identity Card to "deal with illegal aliens,” to suggest that members of civil rights groups "ought to think seriously as to whether or not their actions contribute to the strengthening of communist enemies," and declare that if those groups tear the country apart with protests, martial law is justified "for the peace to find a solution.”

Neighborhoods with large black populations (e.g., Harlem) are walled off and forced into poverty, and one character even mentions that Jewish people are being “put back into camps.” The right-wing politicians make sure that things like this aren’t shown on television, keeping the majority of the American public ignorant of the horrors committed with their indifferent support. The public are simultaneously told that with some sacrifices, America can be free once again. The fake Captain America confronts a group of peaceful protestors, and he is shot by a sniper (in what reads like an inside job), allowing the police to have “reason” to attack the protestors. The imposter does not die and instead uses the attack to provide more reason for the violent crackdown against protesting groups.

When the true Captain America is unfrozen, he is horrified to see what America has become, especially with his emblem stamped all over it. He immediately seeks out the resistance forces (who clearly represent the Black Panther Party) and joins their cause, stating that "the wrongs [he's] seen will take much more than one man to right -- but [he's] got a name to clear, a costume to unsoil-- and a country to die for!!"

By the time Steve joins them, the resistance only has one chance left to stop the American downfall: a political convention where the "America First" party will be able to secure its support to sweep the national elections and allow them "to return America to the pure and great nation [the] forefathers envisioned."

The resistance strikes just as the convention begins. The Captain America imposter is no match in a fight against the true Captain America -- especially against a Steve Rogers who's fucking pissed. ("Get up so I can knock you down!!")

With the imposter knocked unconscious, Captain America addresses the convention crowd, warning that an America that does not represent all its people does not deserve to exist at all; that liberty can be "as easily snuffed out [in America] as in Nazi Germany" and "as a people, we are no different from them."

The crowd realizes that the man speaking before them is the true Captain America and cheers. Captain America holds his hand up and silences them, stating that he will not allow them the chance to simply replace one idol with another. He alone can’t undo the horrible damage, and he pleads that there’s still a chance for the people to “find America once again.”

Fascism doesn’t change its tune, just its singers.

A 2021 Marvel Trumps Hate ( @marveltrumpshate ) commission, completed on 22-count aida cloth with embroidery floss and watercolors on a 9" diameter bamboo hoop.

#captain america #Steve Rogers #hand embroidery #fuck fascism #if you don't think cap says 'trans rights' then you're a fascist #i reread the issue to write the summary and it is a powerful stand-alone story #40 years later and still relevant #a part of me was worried that it wouldn't translate well to current events and.... welp #the commissioner asked that i make one minor change of 'freedom of all men' to 'freedom of all people'#i think that is a very appropriate update and i think 2023 cap (and good cap writer) would support the change #i know this is a super long post with a lot of image text -- if someone wrote Image ID text for me I'd be super grateful and i'll reblog it!#embroidery art #textile arts #embroidery #needlework #needlecraft #comics #mixed media #my work #also just let it be known that the first thing steve rogers says when he wakes up is:#'all right nazis! what have you done with Bucky?!'#(the Bucky in the issue is a fake too)#(the real Bucky will still be dead for another 20 years :(((((( )

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

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swindled for the hole

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘hole’

wc: 404 | rated m | cw: sexual innuendo, implied sexual content | tags: modern au, established relationship, date night, Steve is actually very good at top golf but lies about it to win a bet

⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️⛳️

“And that’s…nothing.” Steve sighed. “How are we both so bad at this?”

“Well, I’ve never been good at sports. Not sure why you thought taking me to Top Golf would be the start of my shining golf career,” Eddie mumbled, chewing on a fried macaroni and cheese bite. “Food’s good, though.”

“But I’m usually good at this stuff!” Steve huffed.

“When have you ever golfed?” Eddie sipped his beer.

“Not golf necessarily! Getting balls in a hole!”

Eddie snorted so hard, beer came out of his nose. “Sweetheart, you have to know how that sounds.”

Steve clearly didn’t, the redness on his cheeks spreading rapidly down his neck.

“I do now.” Steve sighed, setting his club back in the compartment. “I have 4 points. And I don’t even think they’re supposed to be mine.”

“Well it’s better than my 0.”

Steve took a sip of his Long Island iced tea, then another, then drank the rest.

“Let’s make this interesting.”

Eddie glanced up from his mozzarella sticks and smirked. “Yeah?”

“Yep. I get one ball in the middle circle of any hole and I win. I win, I get in another hole.” Steve winked. “You win, you get the same.”

“You got a deal.”

Eddie chugged the rest of his beer and stood up to take his next turn.

He randomly chose the driver, figured maybe if it was bigger, he’d have a better chance of getting the ball further.

On the first swing, it did actually manage to go far, but it landed in the grass and got stopped by another ball.

He could feel Steve’s eyes on his back, but didn’t turn around, didn’t want to be distracted from winning.

He had two holes to get into.

His second swing was slightly better, and he managed to get the ball into one of the outer rings.

His third and final swing was terrible. His confidence was gone.

Steve brushed past him with a mozzarella stick in his mouth, smirk on his face.

“Wedge? Or nine iron?”

“You don’t even know what that means.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

Steve raised his brows in a challenge before grabbing one that looked smaller than the driver, but bigger than the first one Eddie used.

Steve swung.

The ball flew through the air.

It landed directly in the center of the middle circle.

He turned to Eddie with a smile.

“One hole down, one to go.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #established relationship #innuendo #modern au #so glad this is the first thing I wrote this year

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knifeforkspooncup · 23 days

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Additional Tags: Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Touch-Starved Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley is Angry at God (Good Omens), Scared Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Mutual Pining, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Song: Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want (The Smiths), Romantic Fluff Summary:

A soft footstep falters close behind him, signalling he’s not alone. Aziraphale.

Crowley knows he should pull himself together, turn to the angel with an expectant smirk, inviting him to start their next round of banter on the merits of modern music.

Let himself be carried into the afternoon on a river of wine and good conversation, muffling the anger and longing under his friend’s expert guidance. Follow Aziraphale’s cautious lead like he’d promised to 18 years ago, you go too fast for me, Crowley.

It was enough most days. It had to be.

But Crowley can smell the lavender and mint notes in his cologne, can picture his hands grasping the wine bottle at the neck, the soft way his waistcoat wrinkles when he sits. He’s not sure it’s enough today.

--------------------------------------------

It's 1985 and Crowley is settling into what promises to be another afternoon of excessive drinking and banter at the bookshop. Both he and Aziraphale are tenderly getting back to a shaky semblance of normal after a century and a half of renewed terror and revelations about their relationship. But it's a fragile existence.

And they want more.

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Oh hey look! It’s my first fic!

Thank you to my amazing beta reader and DM debauchery gremlin @aspiring-pansy. I probably wouldn’t have finished this without your hype.

I hope y’all enjoy this little emotional rollercoaster!

(Also none of you music kids come for me about the music notes ok, I don’t know anything about anything about music notation)

(Also also shamelessly tagging anyone and everyone who said they wanted my ao3/wanted to read this fic last week - NO PRESSURE TO READ)

#holds out my bleeding heart with shaking hands #I hope you enjoy #I just wrote what I wanted to read idk guys #the next one will be smut #this is the first thing I've really written in 7 years be nice #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanart #good omens fic rec #good omens fic #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #Ineffable Husbands #crowley #Aziraphale

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ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 27 days

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AU where Zane Ninjago is the previous master of ice. like when he transferred his elemental powers over he also transferred his soul and he low-key reincarnated into this robo-body. cool beans. this means there's the potential of Zane starting to glimpse bits and pieces of past and not knowing why he can see it. the things master Wu talks about--why can he see them as if he were there?--he feels like he has experienced personally. give Zane a whole other crisis on top of after he finds out he's a nindriod not a human. this also means Zane in old clothes and styles from Master Wu's time whenever he has flashbacks which is a neat visual. like heck you could have someone other than Wu have previous villains that show up! you could balance that out a bit! Master of Ice's previous nemesis shows up ready to throw down when they discover he's technically still alive but also not. Zane questioning if this is his life at all. if he's Zane or someone else. If he was Zane before or if he was nothing. If he's Zane now or if he never was to begin with

#knox rambles #Zane Julian #Zane Ninjago #LEGO Ninjago #this'll probably not become anything big <- has said that for every au #just in case tho what are we calling this uhhh #Master of Ice...? no that makes no sense he's already the master of ice uhhhh #ice is another form of water it can never really be destroyed it just becomes something else ohhh that's good if i wrote a fic that would b #like the summary or first line talking about the different forms of water #water holds memory or whatever this would be a heavily Nya and Zane thing i can feel it #Glaciated Memory AU #because i'm needlessly fancy lets go with that yeah #WELP THERE WE GO Glaciated Memory AU good morning y'all #i haven't looked at ninjago stuff for years so the chances that someone has already made this au is high WHEEZIGNSD;FLKM

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sacchiri · 28 days

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Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

#hellsing #alucard #kouta hirano #translation was found in a comment by u/lazyfoxheart on r/Kurrent #fun fact this is the highest quality version of this image that exists online #i know because i've been looking forever for a version that's clear enough to actually read what hirano wrote under '1443'#but there weren't any so i had to take matters into my own hands #the real image on the back of the guidebook is only 2 inches tall so i had to take this with my smartphone and will my hands not to shake #anyway i'm pretty sure it's supposed to say Eğrigöz (the location vlad was imprisoned) so yeah. thank you hirano very cool #if i might rant for a sec it took me an embarrassingly long time to figure that out because i didn't have the guidebook at first #and in the images i could find online that part was just a blur that looked suspiciously like a person's signature and i was like. who tf #i was thinking matthias corvinus since he issued some political propaganda against vlad iirc but it didn't match his signature on wikipedia #then i thought it might be vlad II dracul's since he probably had to sign an agreement to send his sons over as hostages at some point #but that didnt seem right either so i kept skimming vlad's wiki page #and then i was like goddammit...hirano.....you just misspelled Eğrigöz didn't you.. ....#i maybe should've made a separate post dedicated to this instead of writing a novel in the tags but eh #the hellsing brainrot runs deep #also- i put it in the source link at the bottom of the post but the german inscription is copied off a real woodcut of vlad from 1491 #except instead of depicting him as an adult hirano drew him as a child which gives the inscription a very different feel imo #the one final thing that interests me about this is the fact that hirano published this calendar in 2002 #which is REALLY early in the series. like this was before volume 5 came out??#i have no idea why he decided to do a massive spoiler drop in a random piece of japan-only merch #sandwiched between a drawing of alucard as john travolta from saturday night fever and integra as a fish no less #it makes me really curious to know what the fan response to this was back then. like did people even know who this was #maybe im just an idiot and everyone back then was like 'ah yes its alucard as a 12 year old. how very informative'

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anna-scribbles · 27 days

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h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

#in some ways it IS the move to go to grad school right out of undergrad #because your body can still sort of operate like a college kid #i’m on about 3ish hours of sleep rn and this morning it felt SO over but now i’ve eaten something and we’re so back #i also don’t really do caffeine. except sometimes i’ll go get one of those panera death lemonades #i might be able to snag a short nap before work #but anyway about seventeen year old emilie. i was thinking abt how she was in that movie solitude and adrien said she was seventeen #WAIT. NO. HE SAID SHE WAS SEVENTEEN IN THAT PHOTO ON HIS DESKTOP NOT IN THE MOVIE #well. okay whatever i’m gonna tell you what i was thinking about anyway #OKAY i’m back i just checked the wikipedia page and then i watched the end of gorizilla. to make sure i’m not lying. because i’m normal.#anyway i was thinking about the solitude film and how it’s super rare and old and obscure and whatever. and how apparently #emilie wrote it herself and andre produced it #and i’m thinking about how gabe was discovered by audrey and that’s how he got his start in the fashion industry #so now i’m like?? did gabe and emilie first meet on the set of solitude? because gabe was designing costumes or whatever?#and that’s how audrey found him? have people already thought about this??#also i just checked and it doesn’t say emilie’s last name in the credits and also it’s ‘graham films’ with the twin rings logo m #so i’m assuming she’s still emilie graham de vanily at that point #anyway it comes back to seventeen year old emilie because i started imagining seventeen year old runaway emilie having her new life in pari #after escaping her british nobility life #and the first thing she does is write and star in an original movie. of course.#and she meets this repressed bisexual punk upstart costume designer who is so the opposite of everyone she’s ever known #and he’s immediately so unhealthily obsessed with her. which she appreciates.#and then they proceed to have the most toxic doomed evil relationship of all time #also she gets cheated because once gabe gets money he represses himself SO hard that he is now exactly like all the people emilie grew up w #but at least he’s still obsessed with her #this is what i was thinking about during class today. i don’t know how i get anything done either.#ml #anna rambles #asks

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bodhimcbodeface · 5 months

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I wrote a song!

The chords are an approximation; I found a four-chord loop on an app I don't really know how to use.

Anyway, here's wonderwall (no it's a song about OCD sorry)

lyrics:

I got your message at quarter to four in the morning I’d been trying to keep you away since dawn Cause if you knew what was crawling its way through my brain You’d want me gone as bad as I did. But I was tired of them dancing in front of my eyelids So I told you a little, only what you knew You told me I wasn’t going insane. I said, “I guess that means I’ve got no excuses left.”

Breathe out, Breathe in, Try to drown in cleaner water.

And it wasn’t the worms in my head But that I liked the way they slithered and I thought of them in bed And it wasn’t the dirt on my hands but the scalpel I used to clean out under my fingernails. I got tired of them swimming upstream through my veins. I got mad they wouldn’t open me up and bleed me dry You told me that I wasn’t going insane. I said “Please god, let me call it any other name.”

Breathe out, Breathe in Try to drown in cleaner water.

When you knocked on my door it was almost dawn And your fingers were candy cane colors from the cold I was sure when you pushed your breath into my lungs I’d reject it like a transplant And I’d already done wrong just by leaving you a handprint Stubborn like blood on your favorite jeans When you said you were scared I was going insane, I said, “I just want to…

“Breathe out, Breathe in, Try to drown in cleaner water.”

#this one was Alpine Caprine inspired!#the first verse is from a song I wrote ten years ago #which was a VERY different song #also somewhat goatsy #my music #sometimes I write things #ocd

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makotonaegiunderstander · 1 month

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something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

#makoto naegi #Danganronpa character analysis #Danganronpa #danganronpa thh #danganronpa future arc #I fucking love Makoto Naegi man.#I think there’s a fine line of nuance to Makoto that’s easy to miss bc he doesn’t really make it known #he’s not a pushover and he’s not overpowered. he’s a people pleaser but he will say what needs to be said #he’s an immovable object and the exact opposite of Junko but he’s also just a normal guy who’s optimistic and (un)lucky #he isn’t invincible but he has immense power to his words the same way Junko did #if anything his superpower is being kind above all else. he’s compassionate to some of the worst people in the world.#he was even conpassionatr to an extent to Junko. he didnt want her to kill herself despite everything she’s done #and he still acknowledges that for years she was a classmate and friend.#I do think the more he learned abt what she did the more he’s come to actually hate her though #post the first game he always refers to her without a suffix to her name which is one of the most subtle rude things you can do #it means you have zero respect for the person you’re referring to #and he speaks about her with some venom he doesn’t use for anyone else in the future arc #he’s not incapable of feeling negative emotions #I really liked the future arc scene bc it showed that Makoto DID experience enough despair to have overcome him if he didn’t refuse #and that it still affects him deeply. people treat him like he’s either this perfect ideal Chad or this baby chick who’s so delicate #and no one really focuses on how makoto shoulders so much and yet is still vulnerable.#honestly that guy was DUE for a mental breakdown even without the tape. it would have happened eventually #I actually wrote one based on him finally hitting a breaking point after giving so much of himself away and keeping nothing for himself #that his issues that he shoves down constantly finally can’t be held down anymore. Hajime helps him bc he knows how that feels #it was a LONG time ago that I wrote that but honestly if I can remember where i was going w it I might finish it #it was initially an rp but I could make it a fic #anyway. the point is Makoto is SO much more complex than people give him credit for #the most fundamental thing about him is that he’s normal and that’s ok! that’s what helps him rise!

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dootznbootz · 3 months

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Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

#I wrote this last night. I'll do the asks I got later. don't worry! :D #I am the cheese god remember?😅#I think these two would try to “out-cheese” each other and whoever is left speechless first loses #“I would forget my own name before I would ever forget you” bullshit. CHEESY #And yes. “I sleep in our nest with you or outside on the dirt” stupidity >:D #I plan for Odysseus as a beggar to ask why she waits so long. As he's been gone a longer amount of time than the time they had together #(Simply asking as reassurance. He knows his answer. Calypso asked him. but what about Penelope?) but she gets mad at the #“Beggar” and pities him as he must be telling the truth about having a miserable life if he never got the chance to know such devotion #How what they have could never be sullied by #something as trivial as distance and years. How the years with him were the best in her life. Only made better by their son.#'My dear Joy made songs and poems about love a reality as that was simply the life we shared. Even separated our 'song' will always echo #no matter how long it's been. I'LL make sure it always does. And I know he's doing the same... That strange man used to say that #even if he died his corpse would drag itself back to us before he'd ever give up.'#...I'm not one for 'odyssey zombie au' but when I first heard it yeah. :'D Came up with this back then #“His eyes as hard as flint or horn-” Bullshit! The sad lil fuck is hiding sobs with coughs and telling her to keep away for fear of her #catching whatever “illness” he has. The nice thing about being disguised as old means sickly old man works.#...#I'm noticing that Odysseus has a lot of silly oneliners while I write Penelope with a shit ton of set up :'D #They are so silly and I love them so much #...I wrote a lot :'D #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #my headcanons #odypen #yahoo!!!#sometimes I wonder if I should tag this with more things but I don't want to taint the regular tags with my bullshit :'D I KNOW I'm insane

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imaredshirt · 6 months

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“I should have killed you that night in Mexico City,” Ernesto says to Héctor as he holds up a half-empty bottle of tequila. “Should have killed you the very moment I had the chance.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t have had the guts,” Héctor says without missing a beat.

He never takes Ernesto’s grouchy threat seriously. Not when his friend has growled and grumbled and groaned the same empty words for years over any little inconvenience or annoyance he blames Héctor for.

When Héctor wakes him up to early to practice – “I'll kill you if you poke me again,” Ernesto gripes.

Héctor drinks all the coffee before Ernesto can get to it – “I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Ernesto whines in the middle of the kitchen.

Héctor embarrasses him in font of the Rivera family with another sappy tale of their childhood when Ernesto had moved Heaven and Earth to make sure his hermanito had something to eat at night – “Gah! I should have let you starve!” Ernesto groans into his hands before adding a thousand embellishments to the story to make himself seem grander because his ego is just that big.

It’s an empty threat. It makes Héctor laugh sometimes.

Like now. He chortles to himself and nudges Ernesto’s empty shot glass closer to him. The movement sends Ernesto’s losing hand of playing cards sliding to the edge of the table. “Go on, you loser, drink up!”

Ernesto grumbles and pours himself his nth shot of clear liquor for the night.

Héctor can see Imelda over Ernesto’s shoulder, sitting at her desk by the window, head bowed over neatly arranged sheets of drawing paper. She’s singing to herself under breath as she works, sketching improvements to existing boot designs. A strand of silver hair falls over her brow.

Héctor begins to hum along to her beautiful voice until he hears Ernesto mutter, “I was planning to, you know.”

“Huh?” Héctor turns to him.

“Kill you,” Ernesto says. He’s shuffling the cards, lips twitching into something that’s not quite a snarl but close to it. “I planned it all for that night you left.”

Behind him, the sound of Imelda’s brothers laughing with Coco in the garden only vaguely catches Héctor’s attention. He leans forward on crossed arms, eyes the cards that Ernesto flicks across the table towards him. “The night I left?”

“When you left me in that cheap hotel in Mexico City ten years ago,” Ernesto says. “And took all your songs and your pinche guitar with you.” He’s done dealing out the cards when he meets Héctor’s eyes again. “I was going to kill you and take all of it for myself.”

Héctor narrows his eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes. With rat poison, of all things,” Ernesto says. “But luck wasn’t on my side that night.”

Silence.

And then, as if on cue, they laugh. Héctor hugs his middle and tries not to send his cards flying. Ernesto’s shoulders are shaking and his head is bowed, laughing in that wheezy way of his that he’s only ever comfortable doing in the presence of people close to him.

Héctor says through his laughter, “I really piss you off that much, eh?”

“Every day,” Ernesto says. “Back then and even now – even now I still want to poison you.”

Any other man, and Héctor would blame the tequila for the harsh words. But this is Ernesto. The man just says things like that sometimes. Even his ridiculous jokes -even ones about abandoned murder attempts, apparently- sound charming with the way he speaks.

“You can try. But would the world really forgive you if you silenced this beautiful face forever?” Héctor gestures at his face with a flourish and gasps when Ernesto flicks a card at his nose. “Hey! Ouch!”

“Forget it,” Ernesto grouches. “I think if I try, Imelda will kill me a dozen times over.”

“I would enjoy that,” Imeda says without looking up from her work.

“I know.”

“Ah, well,” Héctor says. He pours them both shots of tequila and holds his glass up. “To failed plans and bright futures. Or, at least,” he adds, grinning lopsidedly at his friend. “At least to another ten years before you try again?”

He's had enough of the joke. He wants to end the night on a good note.

Ernesto stares at him for a long second before rolling his eyes with a scoff and raising his glass. “To bright futures and no more poison, I suppose. You’re too annoying to even get rid of at this point.”

“To being too annoying to get rid of!” Héctor crows and clinks their glasses together.

They drink, and get back to their game. Outside, the sun sets on a quiet evening at the Rivera home where everyone, at least for a good long time, lives happily.

#based on something i think I posted to discord a few years back #coco #héctor rivera #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #heeey first coco fanfic in years aw yess #look i wrote a thing

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