#I COULD EAT THREE GIANT BOWLS OF RICE!!!

[hitachiinlovebot]

samurai hitachiin twins ☆

ep 22

[austin-in-taiwan]

August 3 - Kaohsiung - Fo Guang Shan Monastery

This morning, we all met up at 8:45 a.m., as we were an hour's bus ride away from our 10:00 meeting with a Master at the Fo Guang Shan Monastery. Today was definitely one of my favorite experiences on the trip, as we got a rare personal tour. Professor Yeh's mother has been a volunteer for over 30 years at the Monastery, so we had the privilege of doing what we did today because of her. 

First, he toured us to one of the temple rooms, and we all offered a flower after our wish for the Buddha statue. We got to walk through the beautiful scenery and admire the architecture. Then, our guide took us to a classroom to learn how to eat at the silent lunch. There is a sure way you need to pick up your bowls of food closer to you to eat. If you moved your bowls back forward, the servers would automatically think you wanted more and give it to you, and there was a specific way to put your bowls forward if you were finished. The food was vegetarian. We had a plate of vegetables and tofu, a bowl of rice, and a bowl of soup. The dining hall was giant, with long rows of monks on one side and regular people on the other. Before and after the 20 minutes we could eat, there was a chant that we could participate in. When you walk in, eat, and leave, you have to be silent (no noise with your chair or plates) and not talk. Overall, this was one of my favorite experiences of the trip. Unfortunately, there was no photography, so there are no pictures below.

Next, we went to the Buddhist museum, where we got a tour by one of the volunteers. First, we walked around the garden and the eight pagodas leading up to the Big Buddha, which is 108 meters tall. She told us it's the tallest bronze Buddha statue in Asia. This courtyard with the pagodas and the Buddha at the end was stunning. Then, we went under the giant Buddha and tried calligraphy. Finally, we got to explore the museum for one more hour. The first thing I saw was the famous Jade Buddha Shrine, which is behind it is the Buddha's tooth relic. After some final exploring, we boarded the bus and rode back home.

Academic Reflection

During our guided museum tour, we were taught many topics, reflecting on Buddhism and some of Taiwan's history. First, I enjoyed learning about the national bird in the native animal/taxidermy section. The Mikado Pheasant is the national bird and can also be found on the 1000 New Taiwan Dollar bill. Two other endemic birds to Taiwan are Swinhoe's pheasant and Taiwan blue magpie. Additionally, I learned about Robert Swinhoe, an English diplomat who discovered over 1,000 different species. 

One phrase that stuck with me when learning about Buddhism today was the Three Acts of Goodness: "doing good deeds, speaking good words, thinking good thoughts." This phrase is such a strong lesson to teach everyone who visits the museum and anyone in the world. Overall, I find the Buddhist teachings and wisdom spread by Master Hsing Yun fascinating. Our tour guide told us that before his death, he wrote hundreds of books and only slept four hours daily to be as productive as possible! Overall, I find it wild but also very inspiring how not only Hsing Yun but also anyone who dedicates their lives to their religion or passion and spreading its knowledge.

[tarralin]

The Descendant

Chapter Seven

Be sure to see my Ayakashi!Kenshin brought to life by the amazing @cailann!

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Haruka's brow creased as she gazed over the sketch filled pages before her as the morning light grew stronger each passing minute. Her sleep had been filled to the brink with visions and her hands itched for a pencil the moment she awoke. Whether they were dreams or memories was still to be determined and she thought sketching out as many details she remembered would have answered the question but instead she found herself perplexed by the images in front of her… 

"Haruka?" 

Her bones nearly jumped from her skin at the voice until she saw who now opened her tent flap. "Oh, good morning Kenshin…" she started cheerfully until she noticed his eyes. He seemed somewhat surprised to see her. “Is everything alright?”

"Quite… I came to see if you were ready for breakfast."

Maybe it was her imagination.  "Breakfast sounds amazing, I feel like I haven't eaten in a week!" She grinned as she tucked her notebook away into her pack… only to notice a new wrapped bundle beside it. "Oh, this is new…"

"I… had them retrieved for you. I thought the journals of a kitsune priestess may shed some light upon the shadows."

"Really?!" With breakfast nearly forgotten she reached for the parcel but her fingers never touched the leather wrapping for Kenshin had scooped it off the table first. 

"Ah ah ah," he chided with a rather smug smirk as he held it out of her grasp above her head.

"Oh, come on! I'll eat while I read, I promise!" 

"No," he grinned as he ducked outside into the sun.

She couldn't help the giggles that bubbled up as she ducked out after him… and into the bustle of a much busier camp than yesterday morning. 

"Whoa, did more troops join us during the night?"

"No… we joined them."

"What?!" She squeaked. "How...?" How did I not wake from that? People saw me sleeping?! Oh God, I drooled didn't I? 

"A covered wagon was prepared so we could move on while you rested."

"I didn't stir at all? I'm not usually such a heavy sleeper."

"Your latent capabilities have only just awakened and you cleansed a spiritual gathering place after researching straight through the night without rest. Your mortality was bound to catch up to you at some point."

She didn't have anything to say to that. He had a point even if the comment felt like a slap in the face, souring the light-hearted mood of the morning. It also brought to mind yesterday's early morning confrontation and how he didn't approve of her learning to fight. She had originally thought it was because she was a woman but maybe it had nothing to do with gender after all… but the fact that because she was human then she’d likely never be good enough for anything. Anything. And here she thought they had shared a few special moments in the cave… must have just been exhaustion playing tricks with her mind. Damn, is it possible to mourn the loss of something that never existed?

"Lass!" The warm voice pulled her from dreary thoughts along with an even warmer smile as they neared the serving area where Masamune filled bowls and handed them to those in the breakfast line. "Welcome back to the Land of the Living, come get some food in you. No running off this time either."

Her mouth was already watering from the delicious aromas that pranced across her nose and the sight of seasoned vegetables with fluffy rice was enough to pull a growl from her stomach in anticipation. "Wouldn't dream of it!"

Masamune scooped an extra helping of seasoned vegetables over her rice before calling over his shoulder for the next bin from the kitchen tent. "There's plenty more where that came from." In the next moment, the flap opened and a giant bamboo serving bowl seemingly hovered from the tent. Only when it settled in front of a grinning Masamune did three blue orbs appear from beneath to Haruka's amazement. "They appeared bored of their own tricks and I noticed they were able to move things so I asked if they'd mind helping. I hope you don't mind."

She shook her head with a grin. "Not as long as they don't. That's amazing! And I'm happy to hear you finally made nice with them."

“That might be a stretch… but they have been a help to the villagers nearby, handy to have someone reach the high rafters. Enough of them, you’ve been out like the dead, Lass. You must be starving!”

“Famished!”

Kenshin settled at a makeshift table consisting of a barrel and a rickety slab of wood slightly bowed in the center but flat enough to do the job. She sat opposite of him and tried her best to ignore Masamune’s pointed glare until he was satisfied she was no longer a flight risk and returned to his morning routine. It was a morning like any other she had imagined taking place within an ancient army’s camp. Swords and spears were sharpened at the grindstones while armor was repaired and buffed at the armorers. Retainers tending to duties delegated by their lieges and couriers carried messages to and fro as needed. The bustle of a well-oiled machine… and yet she couldn’t ignore the growing unease within her. She knew the hearty meal sitting in front of her would be delicious but it did little to distract from the eyes she could feel all around her from the various warriors.

“It’s not you they’re staring at.” The barely familiar voice startled her from the building panic as its source joined the meager breakfast table. The tall-- and broad!-- red-head she remembered named Shingen made himself comfortable even as Kenshin’s eyes narrowed in the newcomer’s direction. “The men are not used to seeing our dear dragon here in the presence of a woman.”

“Shingen…” the dragon in question growled in warning.

“Such a shameful reputation he’s made for himself over the years,” the tiger continued with no regard for his safety. 

“I am not ashamed.” 

"Still don't get why they have to stare." Haruka grumbled. 

Shingen's brow rose with the corner of his lip. "You dislike attention? No, I find it hard to believe that one such as you hasn't charmed the whole realm."

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. "No, thank you. I enjoy my quiet peace just fine."

"Peace and quiet, hmm? Then, I imagine you wouldn't be interested in the festival the locals are hosting." Shingen turned his attention to the cup in front of him as if that were the end of the conversation. It would have been too if not for the sudden perk in Haruka's posture.

"Festival?"

"Hmm?" The sneaky tiger glanced back without a care. "Oh, yes. Quite the list of entertainment I hear. Music, dancing, games-"

Kenshin rolled his eyes. "Dreadfully boring to be sure."

"I also heard there is a merchant arriving in time with a supply of Fire-Brewed Sake…"

Haruka watched as one elegant, blond brow rose from the man in front of her. "Fire-Brewed?"

"The one and only. I hear the southern tiger clans have had a fantastic year and the new sake batch is the best in existence." The tiger continued to drink leisurely from his cup while Haruka watched with silent amusement and hid her own grin behind bites of her breakfast. "But, you're right. Likely to be dreadfully boring indeed."

Kenshin gave a noncommittal grunt at that.

"Well," Haruka perked while finishing the last of her bowl. "I think it sounds wonderful and would love to see it. But first… where might I be able to find something else to wear and maybe…" she trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was about to ask and couldn't bring herself to voice it in present company.

Shingen's eyes grew wide as he jumped from his place. "My apologies, dear one, we have been remiss in your needs. I will have a bath prepared for you and–” 

“Oh, no there's no need to trouble anyone. I’m fine with washing up in the riv–” the look Shingen leveled upon her told her not to finish that sentence. “... but a real bath would be nice?”

Kenshin rolled his eyes as he stood now. “There is a bathhouse at the edge of town that I’m sure would serve better than anything Tokugawa’s men could put together."

"Great!" Shingen allowed with a conspiratorial smile. "Off you go then! I’ll have a fresh change of clothes delivered. For both of you.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes, you are.” 

Shingen was not allowing any protest from the dragon and Haruka had to turn away to hide her amusement. “Oh, I’m sure Masamune wouldn’t mind pointing me in the right direction…” 

“Nonsense,” came a quick reply and the sudden chill at her side told her Kenshin had fallen into pace at her side. “Date has rarely stepped foot in Mikawa in years and would have you running in circles all day.”

Haruka glanced over her shoulder to Shingen with a conspiratorial grin of her own before turning back to her escort. “So… you’re in Mikawa often?”

“As necessary to continue peace.”

She couldn’t help the snort when the corner of his lips curled distastefully on the word. “Seems like a burden or a nuisance when you say it that way."

"I am meant to be on the battlefield, peace means no battle. The quiet is unnerving."

"You're bored!" Dawning realization stopped Haruka in her tracks so suddenly that several pedestrians stumbled off their course to avoid running into her. 

"Unendingly so!"

And you have no idea what to do with yourself. So simple yet so dangerous. Even if half the whispered rumors she'd heard in her time at the camp were true, Kenshin was practically raised to be a living weapon with no other purpose. But what's a weapon to do without a war to rage? Remain packed away in storage? Yeah that's fine for a sword but this was a living person! No wonder he seemed so happy striking down the Chompies, he was actually able to put his honed skills to work. However it was still only a temporary reprieve. What was he to do if she somehow managed to truly pass all the Chompies and Kitsunebi to the next world and fix their self-serve methods? 

She really had to return home soon and arrange more vacation time than she'd previously set up but that could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, her focus would be finding out what else interested a God of War.

[frogsandfries]

The progress so far

You can really tell the difference between the ones I've glued and the ones I haven't. Paper bag is really not quite the right media for this. But. It was the closest material I had on hand to achieve what I had in mind, and the paper bags were just sitting around waiting for me to do something with them.

I finished the other half of these top two layers, even the coloring. But I wanted to seal the gel pen on these pockets before gluing them down, mostly because there is. Just. So. Much. Glitter.

I randomly chose three pairs each of the primary and secondary colors, as well as a pair of silvers and a pair of golds, and some pinks.

One set of pairs were broken up and shuffled into random pairs. And I also chose four greens to be the "leaf" colors.

Two of the pairs are meant to be used in alternating fashion on these background triangles, as you can see, starting with silver, which you can't see, then red, one down and one to the right, another red, and so forth.

So I'm kinda stymied until tomorrow when it's daylight out, and hopefully a little warmer.

Apart from getting glitter all over me and everything and in my glue, I'm also concerned about, particularly the cheaper pens, reactivating when I put the mod podge over them. Thus starting with a spray sealant.

I think I might set this project aside for a while, or at least a few days, until seeing if I actually can pull off the extra, secret bonus pockets. I might also press it? Before adding the extra pockets? For science?

The thought of maxing out this project, just filling every pocket with layers of the next size down until you get to the main smallest size of pocket, is oddly alluring. How many pockets would that be? I probably would not do it with paper bags.

But doing just "half" of that will be satisfying enough for now. This wallet is going to be so thick before I even begin using it.

This really was just supposed to be a real quick project. Easily the part that has taken the most time has been coloring it.

Anyway, spray sealing it should be pretty quick, I can just do that first thing in the morning. Gluing down all the flappies on the tops of the smallest pockets will take a while, then I can glue down the second half of the second smallest pockets and probably finish coloring it.

So that's the story of how a real quick project ended up taking........uhhhh, well, today is the fourth day.

I bought some frosting. I should go make that Dr Pepper chocolate cake.

Or.........I could just eat frosting out of the can.

I also pulled the beef out of the freezer. I decided I'm just going to make like two or three meatloafs with like, instant potatoes and rice, maybe some beans. I have like four bread bags full of dried bread and still don't have a replacement bowl for my stupid food processor, which is honestly why I haven't been making meatloaf. I also have this stupid sloppy joe powder, so I might as well use that up too.

Additionally, I'm probably going to also make a giant batch of sloppy joe--with manwich, how capitalism intended, goddammit. I used the gift card from work (which I don't know why I got it) to buy bread and cheap ramen from the store. I couldn't think of how else to use a measly ten dollar gift card. You can't really buy something off like, Etsy.

Can I just say, I don't love Starbucks. I don't live for my Stargetbucks runs. It's convenient. It's right across the street. It's a hyper-sugarfied caffeine fix.

But the more I remind myself that Starbucks is making poor decisions, and I'm not supporting those poor decisions...........the longer I go without this simple convenience, the more often I want it? The next closest coffee place is not as close. It's more like a fifteen minute walk, and walking fifteen minutes one way, versus fifteen minutes round trip, is just not the same plan or execution. And that place is more like a pale imitation of Dutch Bros than Starbucks. Don't love that place.

Anyway. I think I'm gonna go lay down in my bed with my tablet and work on the Darger Project and unwind.

[ravewoodx]

Team 7: Kakashi imagine (pt2)

Part 1 

Kakashi Hakate has never been one to be over protective. He was easy, went with the flow. Let his student learn on their own. Even with you, he gave you space. Let you do whatever you had to because he knew you could take care of yourself. 

Maybe it was because you where just a civilian and never really faced the dangers of the ninja world up close. Besides working at the hospital where you where safe and sound, just like Kakashi liked it. He would always keep you from the real dangers of the world.

But now it was different. The second he found out you where pregnant he completely changed. He would hardly let you go anywhere by yourself and you weren’t even showing yet. He would absolutely fight you on anything when it came to doing anything around the house. 

Per Kakashi request you kept the pregnancy a secret for how long you could before it was noticeable. If it where up to him, he would’ve locked you up at home and not let you out until you delivered a healthy baby safe and sound. 

Team 7 only happened to find out by accident when they they where over for training. It got out a hand, Naruto went flying towards you. You froze but Kakashi was there holding you behind him as he caught Naruto mid air by his jacket.

None of team 7 seen Kakashi so worried as he held on to you checking your pulse. They thought it was a little silly, even if Naruto knocked you over it wouldn’t be anything serious. But that’s until his hand rested on your barley noticeable bump. 

Now that it was nearly your due date Kakashi was only taking small mission around the village, or small mission he thought the three of them can make do them selves. Most of the training was always done at the new Hakate Compound that Kakashi insisted to rebuild.

At this point of the pregnancy you where ready to pop. Everything felt so uncomfortable. Though Kakashi was rather found of your new roundness. He would not let you out of his sight, even followed you in the bathroom. 

“Y/N!” Kakashi voice startled you as you froze on the giant yoga ball. 

“What are you doing, you need to be more careful” Kakashi said rushing to your side not liking how unsafe bouncing on a ball seemed to him. 

“it’s suppose to induce labor.” You said swatting away his hands that where gripping your hips.

“Come on, I made you dinner.” He said helping you up. He couldn’t help his smile as he watched you waddle over to the dinning room. 

“I’m not hungry, I’m tried and uncomfortable and hot.” You complained as Kakashi lead you to the chair at the table. 

“I know, mama, but you need to eat, you need your energy.” He said helping you sit down. His smile grew even more as he tried to get comfortable moving your rounded belly. 

“I made your favorite.” He said leaning down pressing a kiss to your temple before placing a bowl in front of you. 

“Fried rice, thank you baby.” You said digging in without question. It was one of the things you wouldn’t throw up. 

“Baby?” You asked a little scared too look up. You felt wet, and not the good kind of wet. Kakashi easily picked up on your un easy feeling as he dropped the dishes and ran to your side, falling down to this knee by your side. 

“What’s wrong y/n?” He asked examining you, his hands traveling across your belly. 

“I- uh I might have peed myself again or my water broke.” You whispered out your heart dropping as you felt the warm liquid down your thighs. 

You didn’t get a chance to say anything else as Kakashi scooped you into his arms and transported with a puff of smoke. You peaked over your shoulder to notice your at the hospital. 

“I wanted to clean up first agh.” You groaned as he didn’t let you go just kept walking to the private delivery room that was already set up. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” You whined as Kakashi placed you in the bed as the nurses and Tsunade scattered around the room. 

“Shhh, I wont let anything bad happen. I got you okay.” Kakashi hushed you as he pushed back your damp hair form your face. 

It was so sudden but the contraction started coming in waves back to back. Tsunade would come back ever now and then to check on you make sure your dilating properly. 

Kakashi stayed by your side the whole time, either letting you hold his hand or he’d slowly stroke your hair as you leaned on him. He’s never seen you like this, he could tell the little amount of charka you had was very low even for a civilian. 

“How am I suppose to help? you know I would do anything for you and our baby.” He whispered as you let out another scream. You felt like your body was pushing on it’s own as Tsunade encouraged you to push. 

Kakashi felt like he wanted to cry as you looked at him with big eyes almost pleading for help. He felt your whole body shaking under his touch. Minutes felt like hours as he had to watch you trembling in pain. Soon the gloomy hospital room  was dead silent but the soft cry. 

“Congratulations mommy and daddy.” Tsunade said smiling as she brought over the bundle to you. You held the baby smiling not believing the small cooing baby was yours. 

Kakashi stayed next to your frozen as he watched you cuddle the small bundle. He was almost scared to get too close and all this disappears as if it was a dream this whole time. He knew you where going to be an amazing mother. 

“He looks just like you Kashi.” You whispered before pulling down your husband to sit with you. There was sliver hair in a mess as his little fingers where grasping for something. 

“No, he has your warm eyes.” Kakashi said looking down at the baby’s big y/e/c. But other then that, Kakashi can admit it was a copy and paste version of himself. 

“I want 10 more.” You whispered as you softly pushed your son into Kakashi’s arms. He was almost too scared to hold the baby, he was just so small. 

“As many as you want.” He whispered out knowing that you already had him wrapped around your fingers. Even if you said you wanted 100 more babies he would give you everything. 

[elysiadjarin]

Kill the Lights

Part 2: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/647758084188602368/kill-the-lights

Warnings: implied discussion of threesome? I mean, it’s a symbiotic relationship, literally. Poly at the most, but we all know that’s what we’re here for.

3: Furthering Feelings

Eddie started as he heard a knock on the door. A little puzzled, he went to open it. His eyes widened as he saw her standing on the doorstep, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi there,” she greeted. “I hope it isn’t a bad time...”

“Oh, no, no, come on in,” he managed, swinging the door open and shuffling aside.

She stepped in, and he could practically feel Venom drooling in the back of his mind. He could smell the soft, sweet smell of her natural scent and her perfume, and it washed over him like it always did.

She turned back to him, holding a paper bag. “I wanted to come visit you both, but I also wanted to bring you this...” She handed him the bag. “I tried out a new recipe and remembered that Venom loves chocolate, so I figured he could give me an opinion on it?”

He peeked into the bag. “Wait, you made these?” He looked up at her.

She flushed. “Well, yeah,” she laughed. “I am a chef. I like to experiment once in a while.”

Give me.

Eddie hastily pulled it out, opening the neatly wrapped box. “Sorry, he’s- Uh- impatient.”

She tilted her head, smiling. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

Venom’s head appeared over Eddie’s shoulder, and he opened his mouth to let his tongue flick out and grab a piece of the chocolate. Eddie grabbed one for himself. His eyes closed as he groaned, the taste of the sweet chocolate bursting on his tongue.

“This is... this is amazing,” he said, looking at her.

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” She clapped her hands.

It’s good. Venom gobbled another piece.

She laughed delightedly. “Success!” she cheered. “I’m so relieved you like it, both of you. I was worried the flavors were too strong.”

Venom extended his head toward her, getting close.

“Whoa- whoa Venom-“ Eddie reached out.

But as always, Rosemary didn’t even flinch, instead smiling brightly. “Hi Venom.” She reached out and gently placed the tips of her fingers on his cheek.

He growled, pushing his head further into her hand.

She laughed. “I’m so relieved you like it.”

Like you.

“I like you too, Venom.” She smiled at him.

Venom turned his head to Eddie. Eddie, tell her.

“Whoa, no, we talked about this,” Eddie hissed back, eyes flicking between Rosemary’s face and Venom’s.

“Tell me what?” Her head tilted.

Fine then. I will.

Before he could protest, Venom took over.

~

I stared up at Venom, his face a good few feet above me. Venom didn’t frighten me. He’d never hurt me, never seemed to want to. And something about him always made me wonder what it would feel like to just... sink into his organic matter. I swallowed back my feelings.

“Did you want to tell me something, Venom?” I asked, a little confused.

Venom stepped forward, his tongue flicking and head tilted. His large, milky eyes stared at me. Eddie’s a coward. He doesn’t want us to tell you.

“Tell me what?”

He took another step forward, but I didn’t flinch. We like you.

I blinked. “Um... thank you-? I like you too?” I responded. Though I’d always wished he meant a different way, I’d found out that Venom was always blunt about his likes and dislikes.

No. Venom closed the distance, reaching out.

My heart leaped into my mouth as his giant hands gently encased my waist. But I didn’t move, just letting the large alien do whatever he wanted.

His face loomed closer, until his forehead rested against mine. My hands found their way onto his forearms. His body seemed to almost suck me in, tendrils curling around my fingers. My breath hitched at the feeling.

Want you. If possible, his voice had deepened into a growl that echoed through my body. Love you. We want you to be ours.

I gasped. Head jerking up, I looked up at him, hope warring with fear. Did he... mean it?

“You... you like me?” I whispered.

Yes. Me and Eddie. Want you.

I closed my eyes and let the hope bloom. “Me? But I’m just... I’m just...”

Ours.

My fingers clenched. Venom’s organic matter started to curl around my waist, snake up my back, pulling me closer. My eyes fluttered closed as his mouth covered mine, moving across my lips. It felt strangely both warm yet cool, sending sparks skittering down my spine. His tongue flickered at the seam of my lips.

My lips parted almost automatically, and I muffled a gasp as his tongue slipped between my lips. My mind fuzzed, giddy. Everything about Venom felt so... safe. The way he was so much bigger than me yet molded around me, embraced me so fully. Even the kiss felt so different, so much more... intense.

I tugged away for air, chest heaving as I caught my breath. “Venom,” I breathed.

You like us? His eyes searched mine.

I managed to laugh a little. “Yes. Yes, Venom, I do. I like both you and Eddie,” I said shyly, smiling up at him.

Venom melted back enough to reveal Eddie’s head and torso, though his black matter still anchored us together by the legs and waist. Eddie stared at me.

“You do?” He sounded bewildered.

I tentatively reached up and touched his cheek. “I know it’s a little weird of me, but... I do. I’ve liked you for a while, Eddie. And Venom, too.”

“Then, you’ll... be our girlfriend?” he seemed to blurt. “Venom- I- we- have been c-crushing on you since the day we met. He won’t stop telling me to kiss you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining it. “I would really like to be your girlfriend, Eddie, Venom,” I addressed both of them, smiling. “If you’re okay with me...”

Eddie bent. His mouth slid against mine, burning hot compared to Venom. Still, he felt just as safe, just as solid. His kiss was different, less possessive, more... hesitant. But as I shyly responded, the hesitancy seemed to slowly melt away.

It felt like a dream.

~

His mind fuzzed as he pulled away reluctantly. Her breath tasted so good.

“You’re beautiful,” he blurted, staring down at her. “I... I can’t believe you’d date us.”

He’d long since accepted that Anne had moved on. He liked Dan well enough, and the man made Anne happy. His feelings for her had faded into memory.

But Rosemary... Rosemary was different.

She shook her head, cheeks flushed. “I’m not anyone special. I... I didn’t think you or Venom would ever think of me that way.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled. “You’re- you’re gorgeous. And you’re smart, and your cooking is incredible. You accepted both of us, chose to be our friend. I mean, I’m just a journalist with a-“

A what? Venom growled.

He corrected. “A symbiote. A weird one. Two losers.”

Rosemary reached up and kissed his cheek. “Then we’ll be three losers together,” she said. “Besides, you helped save me that night. And both of you have protected me ever since then. You’ve helped me feel safe again.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. “We’re lucky.”

Rosemary blushed. “And I’m lucky too,” she murmured.

Eddie lost himself in her kiss.

~

I pulled away from Eddie, then smiled up at him. “I love both of you, but that chocolate needs to go in the fridge before it melts.” I gently patted his chest, then skimmed my fingers across Venom.

No. I’ll eat it.

I shrugged. “Sure, Ven. But I thought I’d... well, if you don’t mind, I figured I’d stay and make dinner-?”

Eddie buried his face in my shoulder. “Please stay,” he mumbled.

I reached up and buried my fingers in his hair. It didn’t feel half as rough as I thought it would, and I could feel him shudder a little.

“For dinner, or just stay?” I half-laughed.

His hands tightened. “Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll stay.” I kissed his forehead. “But if you want dinner, you might have to let me go so I can actually make it.”

He groaned in protest.

“Okay, okay, deal.” I patted his hair. “Let me make dinner, and after that I’ll get on the couch.”

Deal. Venom decided to make the decision.

I laughed at Eddie’s disgruntled face, then went to the kitchen. Draping my scarf over the back of a chair, I set up my phone and hummed, going to the fridge. Finding some ingredients, I hummed to the music I put on and familiarized myself with his kitchen.

“You know, Anne told me to date you. Both of you.”

Eddie grunted and dropped something. “What?”

“She’s the one who encouraged me, actually,” I admitted, cracking eggs into a bowl. “She... guessed I had a crush on you both.”

“I- I guess that’s... good?”

I nodded absently. “I’m just a bit surprised she figured out that I was crushing hard on Ven,” I said thoughtfully, tapping the wooden spoon against my lip as I turned on the burner. I turned to him, holding the pan. “I mean, you’d think it’d be unusual. No offense, Ven, but I’m pretty sure I’m one of the very few people in the world that would crush equally on you both.”

Eddie quirked a smile. “He says he doesn’t care.”

“I figured.” I turned back to the stove.

“I worried about it. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” Eddie set something on the table. When I glanced back at him, he was staring at my scarf, fingers twisting nervously. “I mean, with Venom... it’s not like any relationship can just ignore him.”

“I guess I’m lucky, then.” I smiled. “I don’t have to choose, I can have both.”

“Venom, stop,” Eddie hissed behind me.

The eggs sizzled as I poured them into the pan, and I reached over to grab two plates. “Can you get the tots from the fridge, please, Eddie?”

He handed them over. “What are you making?” He peeked over my shoulder.

“Oh, you had the ingredients for omelette rice and bacon wrapped tots so I figured I’d just go with that.” I looked up at him. “Did you want something else?”

His eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Venom’s head darted out from his shoulder. I squirmed and giggled as his tongue licked across my cheek.

“Ven, that tickles! I take it you like that idea then-“

Yesssss. He hissed.

I kissed his head. “Sounds good, now let me actually not burn the eggs.”

Half an hour later I finished setting it all on the table. Eddie brought me a drink from the fridge, and we both sat down. Venom immediately launched off of Eddie’s shoulder to gobble down his plate of tots, while I smiled and took a bite of the omelette rice.

“This is so good,” Eddie said around a mouthful, tucking into the food as eagerly as Venom.

“I’m so glad.” I contentedly ate. After all, the greatest compliment a chef could receive was seeing people devour their food. I was no different.

Eddie loaded the dishwasher once we were done, and I went to go curl up on the couch. From what little Anne had said, Eddie had really taken an up in his life after settling into Venom’s presence and renewing friendship with her and Dan.

I sighed and grabbed a throw, pulling it over my legs and shivering slightly. Eddie came into the living room and shuffled over to the couch.

“Are you alright?”

I nodded. “I run cold,” I explained sheepishly.

He hesitated, glancing at me.

“Does Venom like... to cuddle?” I asked, curious.

He blinked. His eyes unfocused a little, listening to Venom. “No, it’s- it’s like hugging.”

I tilted my head. “I can show him.” I reached out my arms. “I’m a cuddler my friends always told me.”

Venom took over, and he hunched over me.

I laughed a little. “Okay, just... sit down, Ven.” I crawled into his lap, settling myself sideways and leaning into his chest. I pulled the blanket over our laps, then wrapped his arms around me. I snuggled into his chest, feeling his organic material begin to wrap around me in tendrils, making me sink into him a little.

This is... cuddling?

“Mmhm.” I nodded, then took his hand in my lap. His talons were long and pointed at the ends, and I laced them with mine. “I’m so tiny compared to you,” I laughed.

His fingers shrank a little, creating more of a glove around Eddie’s hand. Our fingers tangled together, and I hummed.

We like this. Venom’s head bent, his face barely brushing my hair.

I tilted my head up, leaning back against his huge arm. My nose bumped his face, and I smiled. His tongue flickered, his fangs bared. His breath washed over me, but I just closed my eyes and didn’t say anything as his tongue grazed my collar and flicked up my neck.

My noise of surprise was lost in his mouth as he abruptly kissed me, but I didn’t protest. Eddie’s fingers were clenching around mine, and I let my eyelashes flutter as Venom dragged his tongue across my lips.

I reached up with my other hand and cupped Venom’s cheek. His growl vibrated against my mouth and chest. I pulled away from the kiss, catching my breath.

“Ven, I do need to breathe, love,” I murmured.

He nuzzled me, a sort of purr rumbling through his chest. I melted at the sound, smiling.

“I’ve never heard you do that before,” I remarked, delighted.

He pulled back, head tilting a little.

“Don’t stop, I really liked it,” I pleaded.

His purr accompanied his eyes half-closing. I ran my fingers across his chest, feeling the odd texture. It felt more rubbery than slimy, but it had a sort of... pulse to it that made it so much more alive.

Ours. We will protect you.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Venom’s head darted down. I gasped but didn’t flinch when I felt his fangs prick at my neck. My head rolled to the side out of pure instinct, and I could feel him clearly needling a mark onto my shoulder. He let go, his tongue swiping over it as he purred.

Biting my lip, I pushed back the little prickle of pain. I supposed it made sense with him being a possessive being that he’d want to... mark me?

With one last nuzzle, Venom retreated his head to let Eddie have control of the talking, though his body still remained.

“Are you okay, Rose?” Eddie asked, eyes concerned.

“I’m fine, Eddie,” I reassured, smiling. “It’s just Venom.”

He blinked at the mark on my neck. “He did a number on you.” Reaching up, he brushed his fingers across it gently. “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head. “It just stung a little but it doesn’t hurt anymore. Really, it doesn’t bother me, Eddie, I promise.” I leaned into him comfortably.

“Ok. Ok, that’s... that’s good. Sorry about him.”

“Don’t be.” I ran my hand over his arm soothingly. Curiously, I looked up at him. “You know, it doesn’t bother me if you talk about Anne.”

He looked startled. “Wha-?”

“I noticed earlier, you looked uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to make it awkward, she’s a good friend.”

He sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. “You’re so perfect,” he muttered.

“Not perfect,” I protested. “I just know that both of you have moved on. I’m glad you’re both friends. I’d be sad if I weren’t friends with Anne and Dan.”

He leaned forward to gently brush a kiss to my lips. “I promise I only think about you. I’ve... thought about no one else for months.”

I could feel the blush rising. “I can’t say I’m not happy.”

~

Eddie stared down at her, just... drinking her in. How did he get so lucky? She liked both him and Venom equally, made them food, comforted them, even didn’t mind their being friends with Anne. And with Venom’s teeth marks on her shoulder...

Venom felt all too pleased about that in the back of his mind.

His breath shuddered a little at the feeling of her delicate fingers laced in his, her other hand pressed against their chest. She just felt so warm and fit perfectly in their arms. She hadn’t been wrong when she said she was tiny in comparison.

“I love you,” he blurted.

She blushed, but her smile lit up her eyes. “Love you too, Eddie. And Ven.”

Love her.

“He says he loves you too.” He pulled her a little closer.

She snuggled into him with a contented hum.

“Rose, does it...” He sighed, unable to push the thought from his mind. “Does my job bother you?”

She looked up at him with a confused blink. “Which one?”

It was his turn to be confused.

“Vigilante or Reporter.”

He had to snort a little, shaking his head. “Both, I guess.”

“No.” Her head tilted. “Should it?”

He glanced away guiltily. “I mean, I do tend to get wrapped up in work and obsess over things sometimes. I am a journalist.”

She laughed. “Sometimes I work a lot more too just because I enjoy it, Eddie. Besides, if you start to make me too lonely, Venom will bring you back to me. Right, Ven?”

She’s right.

He sighed. “He agrees.”

She smiled triumphantly. “Told you. But really, I’m proud of you for sticking up for what’s right. It’s how you met Venom. And how both of you saved me. It’s important to you.”

He wondered if she could get any more perfect.

She sighed wistfully, then. “Being selfish is one of my weaknesses,” she admitted. “I always want to just... I always think of my friends as being just my friends and no one else’s. I start to get possessive of their time with me, even though I know they have a life besides me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And I wish I weren’t so worried about my job. I always get so stressed worrying that things need to be absolutely perfect.”

“But that’s just the way you are.” Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. “Pretty natural.”

She smiled. “Well, it’s something to work on.”

He and Venom agreed that they’d follow her on the journey. As long as they could be beside her.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2.4k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

AO3 Link here 

Masterlist here

Their daughter enters the world squalling, tiny and pink and bloodied and somewhat wrinkled but healthy which is all that really matters), and Atsumu’s eyes widen before immediately filling with tears when the doctor places her in his arms.  

‘You did amazin’, darlin’ he whispers, running his finger against their daughter’s cheek reverently. ‘She’s perfect’. 

‘Make sure you count ten fingers and toes before you say that’, she manages to say before dropping her head back into the pillow, bone weary from her labour, and he laughs through his tears. 

They name her Shino, which means stem of bamboo. She reasons that if their daughter is going to take the Miya family name, she should in fairness have a name that represents her side of the family – and besides, she’d always been drawn to the whimsicalness of the tale of the bamboo cutter, but thought naming her baby ‘Kaguya’ might be a little on the nose. Atsumu’s grandmother isn’t terribly pleased, but her stoic father bursts into tears when they tell him, and immediately sends over a crate full of toys carved out of the bamboo from their family’s ancestral grove. 

The press has a field day when MSBY’s PR team releases news of their marriage and Shino’s birth, but thankfully the full weight of the team’s PR machine manages to twist the coverage to repackage Atsumu’s image as a wholesome family man, so the articles remain relatively positive. Still, they’re forced to sit through a number of photo shoots to keep the press happy, and she shudders at the office gossip she knows she’ll have to face when she returns back to work. 

His teammates crowd to greet Shino when she brings her out for one of their matches for the first time. Atsumu presents Shino proudly to his teammates - ‘look at what I made’,  he demands, dangling her in his hands so they can ooh and ahh over the little girl - ‘ I learnt it from one of  those kiddie cartoons I watched at night when she wouldn’t sleep!’ he tells her later when she scolds him for the precarious hold.

She has to shoo Hinata and Bokuto away when they try to hand Shino a volleyball, the ball looking comically big against the baby girl. Sakusa stands at a respectful distance away, but hands her an adorable onesie in MSBY’s black and gold, wrapped carefully in plastic. The corner of his eyes crinkle behind his mask when he tells her it’s so Shino can support them properly at their next game. 

‘Aww, Omi-omi! I always knew you liked me deep down inside’ Atsumu crows, bouncing on the balls of his feet and clapping his hands.

‘You’re insane to marry him’, Sakusa tells her, refusing to even acknowledge Atsumu’s tomfoolery.

‘Maybe I am’, she grins, warmth furling and unfurling in her chest. 

Despite her initial fears, Atsumu falls head over heels for Shino, and continues to allow their baby daughter to wrap him around her tiny finger. He wakes up without complaint for night feedings, spends nights pacing their little apartment coaxing Shino to bed, and straps her on his broad chest for what his pronounces ‘daddy-daughter’ adventures during the off-season when she’s away during the day for work. On weekends, they bring Shino to the park to watch the birds and the clouds in the sky, to the aquarium to watch the fish in the sea, and to the museum to marvel at dinosaur bones from a distant past. 

It’s at the museum that Shino says her first word, sitting between Atsumu’s legs in the museum sandbox, digging her chubby hands in the sand in search of fake fossils. 

‘Say that again’, Atsumu laughs wetly, pressing kisses to the top of their little girl’s head. 

‘Oto-san!’, Shino crows, the look on her face so reminiscent of Atsumu’s expression whenever he’s pleased with herself that she’s torn between feeling pride at her precocious little girl - and horror that she’s going to have her hands full with a mini-Atsumu. 

‘You’re daddy’s little girl, aren’t you, princess?’ Atsumu says proudly, and Shino claps her hands as he cuddles her close to his chest. He later tries his level best to empty out the museum gift store of toys to commemorate the day and she has to slap his hands from tossing in  ‘just one more toy’  into their checkout basket.  

‘Are you happy, ‘Tsumu?’ she asks him later, after they put Shino to bed. 

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he asks with a puzzled frown. ‘I have everything I need.’ 

‘Just checking’, she replies, her doubts forgotten when he tugs her into bed. 

For Shino’s first birthday, both their families squeeze into their apartment to celebrate by strapping a giant piece of mochi that Osamu made to her back, a tradition to rid young children of any impurities. Atsumu nearly trips over himself trying to capture a photo of the auspicious moment Shino falls over on her butt, and showers kisses on her proudly when she does not cry. 

They also carry out the erabitori ceremony, setting in front of Shino several objects symbolising the various paths she might choose in the future. Aside from the common items like an abacus, writing brush or books, her brothers insist on including a knife (sheathed, of course), earning raised eyebrows of Atsumus’s family. Osamu tosses in a kitchen spoon and Atsumu naturally places a volleyball right in the center of the spread. 

‘Cheatin’ pig’, Osamu mutters when Shino ends up picking the volleyball (attracted by its bright colours, he maintains), but Atsumu ignores him, tossing the little girl in the air in delight.

‘Darlin’, come take a look at this! Kageyama-kun’s playing his first game in Rome, and it looks like - I can’t believe this, why does his technique look better than before?! What - is the water he’s drinkin’ overseas magic or something? How’s he getting so good?’ 

‘Tsumu, could you keep it down? I just got Shino to bed, and I really need to finish the work I didn’t have time to do ‘cos I took over her pick-up today’. She replies wearily, typing furiously at her laptop. 

‘Sorry. I’ll pop over to chat with ‘Samu then, be back late!’

She nods distractedly as she hears the door click behind her back. 

‘I can’t believe I screwed up so badly at practice today’ Atsumu grouses, chin propped up on the wooden countertop of Onigiri Miya in between mouthfuls of food. ‘I kept missing my serves, and then that asshole Omi-omi dared to laugh when I ran around trying to get my head back into the game –‘ 

‘Tsumu’. Osamu cuts in, setting another onigiri in front of him. ‘As much as I want to listen to you complain about your no-good, very-bad day, could’ya help your poor wife out a little bit?’ 

‘Thanks ‘Samu’, she musters the energy to give him a distracted smile, juggling a bowl of rice porridge she’s trying to persuade Shino to eat and preventing said little girl from smearing rice grains all over the place.

Atsumu plops Shino onto his lap, and continues talking over her head. She takes the opportunity to stuff her face with food –  glorious food, and doesn’t notice when he maintains a sullen silence as they walk home. 

A hush ripples across the stands like a tsunami when Atsumu gets substituted midway during the last set of the match. She isn’t surprised, not when he started playing badly during the set – there was a little kid that screeched just as he was about to serve, and he’d hit the ball way out of bounds. That had been the start of his downward spiral during the game – his dump shots got picked up, his blocks weren’t quite on point, and worst of all – he’d somehow managed to misjudge the timing of a toss to Hinata-kun, the ginger haired spiker looking confused when the ball missed his hand. 

He’d stormed off the court the minute the referee’s whistle sounded, frustration and anger written all over his face and she’d made a beeline for the locker room, tucking a sleeping Shino into her carrier. She can hear him yelling (at himself, most likely) and the distinct sound of flesh hitting metal, and is about to burst in to comfort him when Sakusa steps neatly in front of her to block her way. 

‘Sakusa-kun’, she greets him, eyes darting towards the door. 

‘Miya-san’, he nods at her, face already hidden behind his usual mask. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea to disturb him just yet.’ 

She opens her mouth to object, but Meian Shugo, the team’s broad shouldered, good natured captain, plants a hand on her shoulder to gently steer her away. ‘It’s not a pleasant sight when he’s in a funk’, he tells her quietly. ‘Let us deal with it, we’re used to him. Do you need me to call you a cab?’

‘He’s my husband – I should be the one to deal with him’ , she wants to say – but doesn’t, because Shino jolts awake and starts to wail. ‘It’s fine’, she does say, hushing her little girl. ‘I’ll hitch a ride home with ‘Samu instead’.

She meant to stay up to wait for Atsumu, give him his usual kiss and listen to him talk about his day, but she’s out like a light when her head hits the pillow (it’s been a long day, in her defense) , and she has to leave in the morning for work before he wakes.    

‘Everyone has their off days, but you’re an incredible setter, you know?’ she does tell him that night over dinner. Shino squeals and smashes her hand into the bowl of food. 

‘Of course I am’, he frowns at her, almost as if he thinks it’s odd for her to even feel the need to say that, and turns away to ruffle Shino’s hair.

She waits by herself in the lobby of her office building for five minutes before she gives in to her impatience and calls him. 

‘Tsumu? Weren’t we supposed to meet for lunch today?’ 

‘Oh shit – I’m sorry, doll, I promised Hinata-kun that I’ll come in for extra practice today. I’ll make it up to you some other day, ok?’ 

She sighs through her nose. ‘Ok – have fun dear’, she replies reluctantly, and he ends the call before she can say any more. 

She can feel the gaze of her colleagues on her back, and plasters a smile on her face before marching off to her favourite dessert place, comforting herself with a box of mochi. She buys an extra box for Osamu (they had a specialty flavour just for the season, and she knows he’s been dying to try that) , and drops it off on the way back home. 

Atsumu complains about only getting one piece of mochi when Osamu sends him a picture of her gift – she can imagine him gloating even though the picture is unaccompanied by any text. 

‘You don’t even like chestnut!’ she scolds Atsumu, and he sulks. 

‘Tsumu! Could you come help zip me into my dress?’ she calls, checking her watch impatiently. The babysitter should arrive in five minutes to take care of Shino for the night while they’re away at the team’s annual gala party.

‘Yknow’, we’d get there a lot faster if you hadn’t sold your old scooter’, he tells her, as he steps into the room, immaculately dressed in his best suit. 

‘I told you – it’s not practical to keep a scooter around when we have a young child’, she answers, already weary of a conversation they’ve had multiple times before. 

‘I’m just sayin’, he says lightly. ‘Oof – sorry, darlin’, the zip ain’t budgin’. 

‘But it fit perfectly fine the last time I wore it’, she frowns. 

‘You must’ve put on some weight’, he says absently, the heat of his hand burning on her hip even after he walks away. 

‘Tsumu, seriously? I told you yesterday morning that we’re out of milk powder and diapers!’ she growls into her phone, cramming her way onto the subway. ‘Fine – whatever, you go for training, I’ll deal with it myself’, she ends the call, dropping her phone like a hot stone into her pocket. 

She runs to the supermarket during her lunch break, cursing herself for wearing heels instead of more comfortable flats, picking up two packs of diapers, a double can of milk powder, and a pack of wipes on discount - all things Atsumu should have picked up last night, but he claimed he was too busy with training and club events to pay attention to a simple errand like this – 

She’s so lost in her thoughts she doesn’t notice when her foot misses the curb and lands on her knees in the dust, the contents of her bags spilling onto the road. There are scores of people on the street but no one stops to offer their assistance, so she ignores the searing pain to pick her precious supplies up before they’re lost in the crowd. 

The blood from the cuts on her knees drips down her calves, and she limps her way back to the office.  

‘Trouble in paradise?’ Yuna-san asks with a curious smirk on her face when she heads back to her seat, eyes red, knees wrapped with white bandages. 

‘No, nothing like that’, she answers the office gossip, keeping her voice deliberately light. 

Atsumu only grunts when she asks him that night how his day went, kneeling down to greet Shino with a hug. 

‘Won’t be stayin’ for dinner, got a team event at night’, Atsumu calls out to her, one foot out of the door. 

‘What? You should’ve told me earlier, I’m already halfway through preparing dinner’, she shouts back, hacking at the vegetables on the chopping board with a vengeance. 

His only reply is a slam of the door, which startles Shino enough to cry. In her hurry to get to her daughter, her hand on the knife slips, and she cuts open her hand. 

The space beside her remains empty throughout the night, and she falls asleep pretending the only pain she feels is from the bleeding gash on her hand. She’s so exhausted she does not wake until her alarm rings, not even when the surge of rain overnight batters her windows and water floods the streets. 

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 6)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 3817

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: SMUT (18+, NSFW)

Terrigenisis (WIP) Masterlist

—————————————

The cabin is absolutely exquisite. No surprise since it's Tony’s, The kitchen is stocked with lots of shelf stable goods. The bedroom, the only bedroom, has a king size bed. You quirk an eyebrow when you see the bedroom but you know, if you asked, the guys would desert it for the couches covering the main room. The bathroom has a huge shower and giant tub. You are definitely taking a bath later. There is a hot tub on the back porch along with several rocking chairs. Beyond the back porch is a fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs not far from the creek. 

Bucky brings in a duffle bag and you give him a bemused look. “So, you packed some things for yourself?”

“Don’t worry, Doll. I packed some things for you, too.” He smirks at you. 

“How did you manage that?” You ask. 

“What if I told you I raided your room?” He asks.

"I'd probably laugh at what you could have possibly picked to bring." You say.

"Damn, knew I should have done it. I brought some extra clothes of mine. Use whatever you like." He says. 

You nod and a smile curls your lips.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky narrows his eyes at you. 

“That you just want to see me in one of your shirts.” You smirk at him. 

“Maybe I do.” Bucky puts his arms around you and pulls you in for a kiss. 

You break away after a moment, “I’m going to see what I can cobble together for dinner.”

Steve comes in from the back as you rummage around the kitchen. “I got a fire started in the pit. We can sit out there for a while.”

“Sounds good. I’m making some dinner.” You smile.

“What are you finding to make?” Steve asks as he comes up behind you. He brackets you in his arms and you turn to face him. 

“I think I can make a decent chicken and rice from this stuff. It’s canned chicken, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” You smile at Steve. 

“I’m sure it’ll be great, Doll.” Steve delivers a swift kiss. 

The three of you eat bowls of chicken and rice by the fire and talk. It’s easy and you stare at the two as you lean back in the chair. The turn today had taken you by surprise but it felt right, somehow. It wasn’t a relationship you ever pictured yourself in. This wasn’t the life you expected to live, but it was your lot. Maybe this was what you were meant to be, an Avenger, and the lover of the two kindest men you’d ever met. 

When darkness surrounded you and the fire had burned down low you say, “I’m going to head inside for a bath.”

“Okay, Doll. We’ll clean up dinner.”  Steve says. 

“Thanks.” You head in and run a hot bath for yourself. 

As you soak in the tub you can hear Steve and Bucky in the kitchen. At first, it’s just the clink of dishes as they clean up, but then they begin to talk. 

“Stop splashing the water, Punk.” Bucky says.

“Little water upsetting you, Jerk?” Steve taunts. “Where’s your head at? I can see something’s going on in there.”

“Relieved. I’m just glad we didn’t scare her away.” Bucky says.

“Yeah. Me, too.” Steve says. 

“I’m… I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, Stevie. I don’t want to tell her yet because I don’t want to push her, but I am. I love you both. I want this to work.” Bucky says. His voice is tight with emotion. 

“I feel the same way about her, Buck. When you said she was our best friend when we talked about this, I realized how true that is. We’ll make it work. Whatever it takes.” Steve says.

“Til the end of the line.” Bucky smiles and Steve can’t stop himself from laying a kiss on him. 

You are in tears sitting in the bathtub. You wonder if they know you can hear them or if they just forget how strong your hearing is. Whatever it is, you know you love them, too. They’re your best friends. Now, it was time to make them your lovers, as well.                                                                                                                      

You get out of the bath and towel yourself off. Your stomach is full of butterflies as you decide how to go about this. You grab a shirt out of Bucky’s duffle and pull it over your head. You gather your clothes and head to the washing machine on one side of the kitchen. 

“Whatcha doing, Doll?” Bucky asks from the couch. 

“I was going to wash my clothes so I have something to wear tomorrow.” You reach up to grab the detergent and can feel Bucky’s t-shirt ride up giving the guys a peek of your ass. 

“Need any help, sweetheart?” You jump at Steve’s voice coming from right behind you. How these two can move so quietly is beyond you. Especially with your hearing. Bucky is only a step behind Steve. 

You look between the two and your lips curve into a seductive smile. “I was going to ask if you wanted to throw your clothes in.” You bite your lip and look the two supersoldiers up and down. 

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Steve says as he pulls his shirt over his head.

Bucky follows suit but when he drops his shirt in the machine, he reaches up to cup your face. “You’re sure about this, Doll?”

You put a hand over his and lean into his touch. With your other hand, you reach out to Steve. “I’m with you. I’m with both of you til the end of the line.” You say, looking between the two. 

“You heard us?” Steve asks.

“I love you, too.” You whisper as the two supersoldiers stare at you in stunned silence. “So, um, when you’re ready I’ll be in the bedroom.” As you walk to the bedroom you pull off Bucky’s shirt and throw it on the couch as you pass. You can hear belts and flies rip open as you walk away causing you to smile despite your heart beating wildly. 

You sit on the bed and as the two walk in you slide yourself backwards towards the pillows. They each move to one side of the bed. Bucky to your right and Steve to your left. You watch their movements and study each of their bodies for a moment. Both men are beautiful beyond words and well endowed making you lick your lips. 

“We love you, too, Doll.” Steve says. 

“Both of us.” Bucky says. 

“I know.” You smile. 

Bucky puts a hand on your arm and looks at you, “You’re trembling.”

“Nervous.” You say. “Sorry. I’ve never done this before. Not with… not with two people.” 

“Neither have we.” Steve reassures you. “We’ll go slow. Just let us show you how good we can make you feel. Tell us if anything makes you uncomfortable.” 

Steve kisses you then and Bucky’s hand comes up to gently caress your breast as he kisses your shoulder. Steve’s tongue explores your mouth and his hand trails across your belly until he grasps your waist. His thumb rubs back and forth as he begins kissing down your neck. Steve’s lips find your nipple and your breath hitches just as Bucky claims your mouth. You trail a hand down Bucky’s chest and rub his thigh as he kisses you with abandon. Your other hand finds Steve’s head as he continues to leisurely kiss his way down your body. 

“Lay back, sweetheart.” Steve says. 

Bucky’s metal arm that had been draped behind you now moves to hold your neck as he gently lays you down. You feel Steve’s breath fan across your mound as Bucky kisses you again. He swallows your gasp when Steve's tongue licks across your folds. Steve finds your clit and makes slow circles around it while his finger pushes into you. You arch as Bucky's lips attach to your pulse point and he palms your breast.

Your hand finds Bucky's cock and trails up and down it with a feather light touch. Steve adds a second finger into you and your grip Bucky's cock.

"Fuck, Doll. You feel so good. You're so beautiful." Bucky whispers in your ear. "Watching Stevie licking and sucking on you is making me so hard. Feeling your hand gripping me. Fuck, you're perfect for us."

The stimulation is overwhelming. Steve's mouth and hands between your legs, Bucky's lips on your neck, hands squeezing your breasts, and hips pumping into your hand. And then the words Bucky said. You'd never been talked to that way and it turned you on more. You were near cumming already when Steve said "You're so wet, sweetheart. You taste so good." Steve's tongue begins working double time over your clit as his fingers slide in and out of you, curling into your g spot. 

You're breathing becomes ragged as you spiral closer to climax. Bucky sees you're close and begins whispering encouragement to you. "That's it, Doll. Be a good girl and cum for us. Cum all over Stevie's face. He wants it. Wants you writhing and calling out for us. Let us hear it." 

"Steve, Bucky, fuck!" Your mind flashes bright white as you cum harder than ever before. You felt as if you were flying into a million pieces. Steve holds your legs open as you shatter and licks over your clit until you are keening and grab his head. 

Steve moves up to lay beside you and kisses you. “You were so good, baby.” Steve whispers to you. 

Bucky turns you on your side facing Steve and begins kissing across your back and shoulders. You trail your hand across Steve’s chest feeling the hard plains until your hands meet the deep V leading to his sex. You encircle your hand around his firm cock as Bucky moves his body more firmly against you. You feel Bucky’s hardness press into the curve of your ass and you moan. Steve captures your mouth and pulls your leg over his hip. Your body tingles as Steve and Bucky’s hands caress your skin. 

“Is this okay, Doll?” Bucky asks.

“Yes. Please, Bucky. Steve, please.” You moan. 

Bucky and Steve exchange a look and Steve nods. Bucky positions himself against your entrance and gently presses in, his face against your neck. 

“You’re so tight, Doll.” Bucky's voice is gravelly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. God, yes.” You say. “More.”

Bucky begins thrusting gently and you stroke Steve in the same rhythm. Your eyes meet Steve's and you see lust mixed with adoration in his face. You lean in to kiss him and he devours your mouth. When you part he presses his forehead to yours. "You feel so good, sweetheart." 

Bucky's hand had found its way to your clit and you were feeling the coil in you tighten again. "She does, Steve. Feels so fucking good."

Steve reaches a hand across the two of you and grips Bucky's hip, encouraging his thrusts. "Give her more, Bucky. She wants it. Don't you, Doll?"

"Yes. It feels so good, Bucky." You would have agreed to just about anything in that moment but you really did want more. The two of them against you, wanting you, loving you was making you spiral. Bucky grabs your leg, pulling it up higher as he thrusts harder. You cry out your pleasure.

Steve stills your hand that's stroking him. "I want to be inside you, too. You're getting me too close, Doll."

"I'm sorry." You whisper. 

Steve smiles and kisses you. "It's a good thing. You're perfect." 

Steve's hand moves down to your clit and his fingers curl over it sending a jolt through you. That accompanied with Bucky's thrust are pushing you to the edge. 

"You gonna cum for us again?" Bucky says in your ear. "I can feel you tightening around me. Feels so good, baby girl. Cum all over my cock."

"Bucky." You moan out his name. Burying your head in Steve's shoulder you bite down to contain your scream as you shatter again. Your body shutters between the two and your walls flutter around Bucky. 

You hear him groan "Fuck, fuck, Doll. So good." As his hips stutter against you and his cock pulses inside of you with his release. Once Bucky is spent you feel him slowly pull out of you. Whining at the loss of him, you smile when you hear him chuckle.  

When your breathing slows a bit, you hear Steve whisper, "You bit me, Doll." 

"Scared of a few teeth marks, Captain?" You sass. You surprise Steve by pushing him on to his back and straddling him. You position his cock and sink down on him, moaning together.

"Jesus, that's hot." Bucky says as he watches you. 

"Don't worry, Stevie. I won't put any marks where they can see." You say as you lean down to nip at his chest. It wasn't hard enough to hurt or leave a mark but Steve's hips buck in response. 

"Our little kitten has some claws." Bucky chuckles. 

"Fuck, Bucky. She's so tight." Steve groans with his head thrown back and eyes screwed shut. You place your hands on his torso and work your hips harder. He grips your hips and begins thrusting up into you. 

Bucky leans into Steve and kisses his neck, rubbing his hand across Steve's chest. "She is, baby. Your cock looks so good going in her. You're taking him so good, Doll." Bucky's hand moves down to caress Steve's V and Steve's hips buck even more. 

"Steve, fuck. Yes." You roll your hips working him in and out of you, chasing your orgasm and his. "Cum for me, baby, please." You cry as you fall over the edge. Steve gives a long groan and pumps a few more times as he releases into you. 

You collapse on his chest, breathing heavily. Steve’s rubs your back while Bucky pushes the hair from your face. After a moment Steve turns you to lay between them again. Their hands wander over you and their mouths lay sweet kisses on your head, neck and shoulders. 

“How do you feel, Doll?” Steve asks. 

“Amazing and worn out.” You chuckle. “That was…”

“Perfect.” Bucky says when you falter. “I knew you were meant to be with us. I love you. I love you both.”

“Love you, Buck. Love you, Doll.” Steve says. 

“I love you, too. Both of you.” You sigh. 

The three of you lay in bed just wrapped in each other for a short time. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, Doll.” Steve says. 

“Sounds good.” You say as you sit up. You wince at the soreness between your legs. It had been over a year since you had had sex and you felt it. 

“Did we hurt you?” Bucky asks, concern etched on his face.

“Just a little sore.” You smile. “It had been a little while for me.” You kiss him and then scoot to get out of the bed. 

“I’ll start a bath for you.” Bucky says. 

“Let me go to the bathroom first.” You smile at his eagerness. 

When you return, Bucky goes in to start a bath. Steve comes up behind you as you rummage through Bucky’s duffle for some clothes and wraps his arms around you. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Steve asks. 

You turn to face him and twine your arms around his neck. “Yes. You didn’t hurt me. The opposite, actually.”

“How do you feel about… this? Us? Are you sure?” Steve’s face is earnest. His voice trembled a bit as if scared that you would change your mind. 

You pull his arms more tightly around you and press into him. “I want this. I want you and Bucky and all of it. I want to be with you til the end of the line.” You look at him for a moment, nervous suddenly. “If, if that’s still what you want.”

“Yes. You and Bucky are everything I’ve ever wanted.” Steve says, pulling you into a hug. 

“I love you, too, Stevie.” Bucky says. Steve pulls away and plants a kiss on Bucky. “And I love you.” Bucky says as he picks you up. “We have a bath waiting. Joining us, Stevie?”

“I think I’ll take a shower.” Steve says. 

“He hates baths for some reason.” Bucky murmurs. 

“At least we have a good view of the shower from the tub.” You whisper. 

“I like the way you think.” Bucky chuckles. Once in the tub, you lean back against Bucky’s chest. He takes a cloth and begins washing you. Gently rubbing over your breasts, belly, and between your legs. You squirm against him and feel his cock hardening. He sets the cloth aside and runs his hands up and down your torso from your hips to the swells of your breasts until he finally covers them with his hands. His head dips to lick and suck on your neck. You breath hitches from the sensation. “Do you see our Steve over there? He’s beautiful, isn’t he, Doll?”

“Yes. And so are you Bucky. Both of you. So beautiful.” You bring your hands up to cover Bucky’s hands over your breasts and you writhe against him. 

“Are you getting turned on again, Doll?” Bucky says against the skin of your neck. 

“How can I help it with you right here against me and Steve right there for me to stare at?” You say. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Doll.”

“You won’t. I’ll tell you if you do. I just want you so much, Bucky. I have for a long time.” You grind your hips against his hardening erection. 

“How long? Tell me.” Bucky puts his hand on your jaw to force you to look at him. 

"Since the first moment I laid eyes on you in that conference room. You looked at me and my insides melted. And then, you were always…" your breath hitches as Bucky's hand finds your clit, "always so sweet to me. Fun and caring. Even after I knew about you and Steve, I wanted you so bad. Wanted both of you. I just never thought you'd want me. Not like this." You whimper at Bucky's ministrations and rub against him. Bucky pinches your nipple and you let out a small cry. 

"Look at Steve" Bucky says. "He's watching us. Look at his eyes blown with lust for you."

"For us." You moan. 

"Look how hard he's getting. Watching us." Bucky growls against you. 

You see Steve’s cock swelling as he watches you and you moan loudly at the sight of him. You clench around nothing seeing Steve so turned on. Lifting yourself in the tub, You turn to face Bucky and straddle him. “Need you, Bucky.”  You groan against his lips. 

“Doll.” Bucky moans as you lower yourself onto him. You still to feel the stretch of him and kiss him. Bucky’s hands trail up and down your back. Each of your movements are slow. You look back at Steve. He has one arm above his head as he leans against the glass wall and the other slowly stroking himself while watching the two of you. There was something forbidden feeling about it. The voyeurism turning you on. You stare into Steve’s eyes as you ride Bucky. 

Bucky’s hands move to cup your breasts while his thumbs gently slide back and forth across your nipples. “You’re so beautiful, Love. Feel you clenching. Fuck, I’m close.”

You turn back to Bucky, “You’re close, huh, baby?” You put your forehead to his and, keeping your same slow pace, clench around him harder. “You feel so good inside me.” 

“Yeah. You’re squeezing me so tight. I’m not gonna last.” Bucky groans. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum inside me.” You whisper to Bucky. He grabs onto your hips and his breathing hitches as he shudders his release. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him for a few minutes allowing your breathing to return to normal. 

Bucky presses kisses to your shoulder and neck. After basking in his attention for a moment, you look back at Steve again and see him still watching the two of you. 

You kiss Bucky and say, “I’m going to join Steve for a bit.”

Bucky lays back against the tub, “I’m going to lay here and recover from you.” His chest rumbles with his chuckle. 

Steve watches you approach with a near predatory gaze. When you reach the door you look at him before opening it and ask, “Can I join you?”

Steve pushes the door open and holds a hand out to you in response. He pulls you into the shower and presses you into the glass wall where he captures your mouth in an intense kiss. His cock presses against you, rock hard and leaking precum. You wrap your hand around him and pump slowly.  

"You're so hard, baby. Can I use my mouth on you? Please?" You look at him with wide, innocent eyes as you ask the question. 

His chest heaves as he registers your words. He's so turned on he can barely control himself. Gently, you turn him so his back is against the wall and you sink to your knees. 

"Steve, is this okay?" You look up at him. 

"Yes." The word comes out of Steve strained and gravelly. The moment your mouth wraps around his head, he moans loudly. His hands wrap in your hair. You swirl your tongue around him and begin to push deeper. Your tongue laps at his underside and your hands caress his thighs. You bob your head, sucking him hard, taking him as deep as you can. 

"Oh, fuck, pretty girl. Fuck. I'm gonna cum. Where…?" Steve leaves off the rest of the question when you moan with him deep in your throat and palm his balls. The vibrations of your moan throws him over the edge and he spurts down your throat with a broken cry. 

You swallow him down and stand then gently pull him into the spray of the shower to wash him. Steve holds you against him as you rub your hands over his back. Your head is on his shoulder and lips against his neck. 

"I love you." Steve whispers.

"I love you, too." You tighten your arms around him. 

"You're exhausted." Steve says.

"Yeah. Good exhausted." You smile. 

"Let's get dried off and into bed." 

"Sounds amazing." 

Steve pulls you both out of the shower and Bucky joins you as you towel each other off. You lean on the two feeling ready to drop. Steve picks you up and carries you. Bucky and Steve envelope you in the bed. The three of you a tangle of legs and arms. 

"Good night, Loves." You manage to say before sleep claims you. 

Part 7

Permanent: @bubbabarnes​ @badassbaker​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @cherthegoddess​ @drunkbucky​ @sherlocksmanwatson​ @cap-n-stuff​

Terrigenisis: @dark-night-sky-99​​

Masterlist

[a-d-curtis]

The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Read on AO3 or Fanfiction.net

Chapter 1: Prologue, Chapter 2: First Impressions, Chapter 3: Stolen Glory, Chapter 4: Pawns & Princesses, Chapter 5: Scars, Chapter 6:Dissonance, Chapter 7: Frustrated, Chapter 8: Obligations, Chapter  9: Private Affair, Chapter 10: Holding on Tight, Chapter 11: Calculated Risks

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Chapter 12: Charged 

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“And how about you, Aang? How is your waterbending coming along?”

The sound of Firelord Ozai’s voice pulled Aang from his thoughts—thoughts that just so happened to have been about waterbending… or more accurately about his waterbending teacher.

“Oh, it’s uh, coming along great. I’m learning a lot.”

Ozai smiled from his place between his children at the head of the table. “Counselor Zhao reports to me that you are making astounding progress, my son.”

Aang ducked. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I just… have a great teacher.” Aang knew this wasn’t the best way to reply to the Firelord. Ozai didn’t like the natural modesty Aang was prone to, but Aang had never quite been able to shed the trait.  

Ozai, took a sip of tea and glanced at Azula. “I’ve been too busy to observe your lessons. But I understand that Azula has. What do you think, Azula? Of Aang’s waterbending?”

Aang looked at Azula a little nervously. Azula had never been one to pass up an opportunity to tear Aang down in front of her father. It didn’t help that as far as he knew, Azula had only observed one of his lessons with Master Katara, and not a very exciting one at that: one that had been little more than a long and failed attempt by Aang to water-heal.

Azula looked back at Aang while she answered her father’s question. “I’ve only observed once, and not long enough to make any concrete judgements. But I’m sure Aang’s progress is astounding as usual.” Aang was surprised by her response; his eyes thanked her for her broadly generous answer. 

The corner of Ozai’s mouth raised in approval.

For a time all that could be heard was the soft clink of chopsticks and the crackle of the fire in the giant hearth behind the Firelord’s chair. Azula pushed away a dish of lotus root stuffed with seasoned rice that she clearly did not care for. Aang didn’t mind. It moved the dish closer to him, and he liked it. It was one of the only vegetarian dishes on the table, plus it reminded him of something the monks used to make.

“And what of your studies with the Fire Sages?” Ozai’s voice broke the silence.

Aang shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Oh they’re… fine.”

Ozai’s eyes narrowed. 

Aang tried to clarify. “I meditate with the Sages nearly every day. And it’s… um…” How could he answer truthfully? Boring, mind-numbing, an absolute waste of his time? He opted for a lie instead. “I think it’s really helping.”

Ozai’s immaculate brow rose in interest. “Really? Do you feel that you are getting closer to learning how to access the Avatar State?”

Aang had a feeling this question would come. He knew how much Firelord Ozai wanted him to master the Avatar State—how much he had always wanted him to master it—but Aang had lied about this issue in the past, and he knew it was unwise to overestimate his progress in this particular aspect of his training. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know that I am any closer to unlocking the power of the Avatar State.”

Ozai’s expression turned hard. 

Azula glanced at her father, and then discretely at Aang. “Perhaps the Sages aren’t as sage as they claim to be,” she suggested derisively.

Ozai took a long inhale before releasing it slowly. The fire in the fireplace rose and fell with his breath. 

The Firelord then motioned once in the air with his hand, and three servants quickly approached the table, removing the royal family’s empty rice bowls. Three more servants immediately placed fresh bowls full of green-bean soup before them. Aang looked at his bowl. Among the Air Nomads, green beans had been a savory dish—here in the Fire Nation it was a dessert. At first it had been jarring for him to eat green beans in sweet soup, but now he could appreciate both dishes. 

They ate their dessert in silence. When the dessert bowls were cleared away, and tea was brought to the table, Ozai finally spoke again. “I have need for you both to travel to the Earth Kingdom.”

Aang and Azula both looked up in surprise. “What?!” 

A thrill zinged inside of Aang at the prospect of leaving the Fire Nation, of traveling the world again! Azula, on the other hand, looked clearly more shocked than excited.

Unflustered, Ozai picked up the elaborate tea pot and began pouring tea. “Aang, what do you know about… Zuko, Azula’s brother?”

Aang noted that Ozai did not claim Zuko as “his son.” Azula’s brow furrowed, her look apprehensive.

Aang cleared his throat before carefully choosing his words. “I… know that he betrayed you. That he… was banished.”

Ozai nodded. “Indeed. Zuko is a traitor to the Fire Nation and a dishonor to our family.”

This was the first time Aang had ever heard Ozai voluntarily speak about Zuko; the first time Aang had ever heard him say his son’s name aloud. It made Aang feel uneasy.

“I showed mercy to Zuko by banishing him. His crimes could have earned him a one way trip to the executioners. But I exercised restraint. Mercy. But in return for my generosity he has continued to dishonor me.”

Aang noticed that Azula’s jaw clenched.

“Zuko and my traitorous older brother are seeking to overthrow me. They have raised an army of rabble, of riff-raff and troublemakers from among the other nations that are opposed to order, justice, and peace."

“I… have never heard anything about this, Father.” Aang replied, trying to stay neutral. Trying to understand what he was hearing.

“I want you to go to the Earth Kingdom and find Zuko and his ‘rebellion,’” Ozai said, “and I want you to end them.”

For a moment Aang felt like he couldn’t breathe; like the air had been knocked out of him. Then a wide abyss slowly opened up inside of him, a pit of never ending dread. Never before had Ozai asked him to… kill.

“Surely there must be… another way. Perhaps we could talk to him? After all, Zuko is your son—“ 

Ozai slammed his teacup on the table, the fire in the hearth roaring into the chimney. “Zuko is no longer my son!” he spat. 

Azula sipped her tea calmly. 

Aang looked back towards Ozai, dread taking root and growing inside of him. The Firelord spoke again, this time with more composure in his voice. “Zuko is seeking to destroy me, my son. He wishes to usurp the throne from me, from your sister. He seeks to stir up war and discontent and violence. He is dangerous. The best way—the way that will preserve the most lives—will be for you to find him and use the power of the Avatar, the Great Spirit of Peace and Order, to stop him.”

Aang looked to Azula for help, for some guidance as to what he should do. But she simply sat across from him, back straight in her chair, sipping her tea. She didn’t look Aang in the eye.

“This is why I need you to complete your training as soon as possible, my son. Lives are at stake. We need you, Aang.”

The words reverberated in his brain, echoing through his skull in the voice of Gyatso. Guilt caught in Aang’s throat. His hand began to rub his forearm under the table, turning the skin there red from the friction. It hurt, but the hurt reminded him where he was. He was here. Not back in those dark memories, drowning in the grief and guilt his thoughts sometimes plunged him into.

“And whether you are ready or not, you and Azula will travel together to the Earth Kingdom at the end of the season.”

A look passed between Ozai and Azula; a heavy something communicated without words.

Despite the trepidation Aang felt, he unconsciously lifted his chin and pulled his shoulders back. Aang had spent his life mastering physical forms to bend the elements. He could shift from Earth to Fire to Air seamlessly. But he had spent the last years of his life mastering the art of body language, of deception, as well. The haughty lift in his chin was more a knee-jerk attempt at self-preservation than of real pride, but it was a way to buy himself time while he digested this new disconcerting development.

Aang bowed his head obediently. “I’ll… do my best, Father.”

“Yes,” Ozai said confidently. “I’d expect nothing less.”

…………….

Katara laid back on the palace roof. Even though it was long after sunset now, the red tiles were still warm from being baked all day in the hot Fire Nation sun. She closed her eyes and took in a large breath of the clean night air. She let the light of the full moon soak into her skin, the moon-rays filling her with a zinging energy.

Katara peeked one eye open when she heard a familiar gust of wind. Aang had popped up over the lip of the rooftop in his usual “upward fall.” He was carrying another armload of things (this was his fourth load). 

“Well I think that’s everything!” he said, kneeling down next to her to carefully set down a white cloth tied at the corners over something bulky. “Unless you want anything else?” he asked solicitously.

Katara looked at the abundance of the things Aang had brought up on the roof and laughed. “Nope, I can’t think of a single thing that I could possibly need that you haven’t brought already! I mean, how many throw pillows do you really think we need, Aang?”

Aang looked at the small mountain of items he’d brought and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “I just wanted you to be comfortable.”

She laughed again and sat up, pulling a pillow towards her and propping it up behind her back. “I am quite comfortable, thank you.” 

“It’s not everyday I get to sit under the full moon with someone I care about!” Aang said. “I just wanted tonight to be special… but then again, I guess anytime I get to be with you is special.” The bashful smile Aang sent her way made Katara’s breath catch. He was often saying things like this--things that might sound corny coming from anyone else, but somehow felt nothing but sincere coming from Aang.

“Well it all looks lovely,” she replied with a soft smile.

Aang smiled widely and pulled one of the larger pillows towards him and in front of where Katara sat. He then propped a wooden tea tray on the roof tiles and the pillow, making a sort of level table that accommodated for the slant of the rooftop. Aang then began untying the corners of the cloth bundle he’d just brought onto the roof. 

“Well, I hope you’re hungry, because tonight I brought something special!” He brought out a four-tiered bamboo steamer basket and set it on the make-shift table. “I’ve got some xiao long bao, a couple of banana-leaf zhongzi, a basket of shu mai, and some steamed walnut cake.” Katara wasn’t familiar with most of these foods, but the excitement in Aang’s eyes filled her with anticipation. “I also have dipping sauces, of course,” he said as he pulled the items out of the cloth and set them on the table one by one, “some pickled veggies, and a bottle of apple-vinegar to share!” Aang held up a dark bottle last and smiled.

Katara teased, “All of this for me?” 

The soft, affectionate look Aang gave her as a silent reply made her stomach flip a somersault. 

“Well it smells delicious,” she said avoiding his eye simply because his stunning dark eyes were making her blush. Katara then bashfully took Aang’s hand and pulled him up to sit next to her, the tea-tray table set before them.

The two of them sat side-by-side, laughing and flirting while they ate the delicacies Aang had brought. The moon shone brightly above them, like a large silver chandelier commissioned especially for this occasion.

“Why there appears to be only one walnut cake left,” Katara teased, snapping her chopsticks above it like a small shark about to capture its prey.

“You can have it,” Aang smiled warmly.

Of course Aang would give it to her. Aang was always like that, ever giving, ever kind. Katara realized that in many ways it was these small gestures that made her feel so cherished. 

“No, we can share it,” Katara replied, picking up the cake with her chopsticks and biting off half of it. She then held the other half out to him. He looked at it a moment before opening his mouth and talking the cake in his teeth from her chopsticks. She watched the way his lips closed around it… how his jaw flexed when he chewed… 

Katara forced her eyes to look away, a blush rising hotly in her cheeks.

When the food was all eaten, Aang folded up the dishes back in the cloth and pushed the tea tray away. He then pulled out the bottle of apple-vinegar. 

“Shoot!” he exclaimed, “I knew I forgot something! No corkscrew for the bottle! Wait a sec, I’ll be right back.”

“Give it here,” Katara said extending her hand for the bottle. Aang put it in her hand.

Holding the dark bottle in one hand, Katara coaxed the liquid inside upward with her other hand pulling back and forth in rhythmic circles above the bottle. The pressure at the top began to shake the bottle, until pop! the cork and half the liquid came shooting out! But Katara stopped the liquid mid-splatter, sending it instead back inside the bottle.

Aang reached out and caught the cork on its descent, his eyes bright with the trick of it. “Wow! Now that is a good use for waterbending! No wonder you’re a Master!”

Katara laughed and replied jokingly, “Because I can get a cork out of a bottle?”

Aang looked at her with absolute seriousness. “Yes. A move like that takes so much precision, such a high level of fine motor control! That’s harder than commanding a big wave for sure.”

Katara considered his words and decided that she agreed with him.

“The monks always taught us to use airbending for everyday tasks, celebrating if one of us kids came up with a new way to work with our element.”

Katara noted how easily Aang spoke of the other airbenders now. It hadn’t always been so. Back in the beginning, Aang had seemed to grow uncomfortable whenever his life from before was brought up—not because he seemed ashamed of his people—but because somehow he felt the topic was taboo. Katara loved how freely Aang spoke of his people with her now. 

Aang continued, a natural affection for his culture in his voice as he spoke. “None of our airbending forms were specifically designed for fighting; they were designed to help us befriend the Air, to partner with it in different ways.” A smug smile played at Aang’s lips. “If our airbending forms also turned out to be helpful in a fight, well that was just kind of a bonus…”.

Katara wondered what it would have been like back a hundred years ago, with all the monks and nuns and air-children roaming the world. The airbenders sounded like delightful people. Thinking of their teaching philosophy added yet another tally to the long list of reasons she was sorry the airbenders were now gone.

For not the first time Katara considered whether she should say something to Aang, about how the airbenders really died. The topic had not come up between them since that first night in Aang’s room when he had told her that he believed the airbenders had died in a plague. Katara wanted him to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth! 

But the information was dangerous… Not to mention how it could jeopardize her own reason for being here…

Aside from that, Katara also knew that she was selfish. She didn’t want to ruin the blissful moments of happiness she and Aang snatched together, stolen from an otherwise miserable situation. She didn’t want Aang’s smile to disappear… to burden him with even more pain… 

Still, she knew deep down that it wasn’t right to try to protect him. But before she could decide how to broach the subject, Aang spoke again, and Katara willingly let herself be distracted.

“I love all of the elements. But I’ve always preferred bending to fighting.” 

“Don’t we use bending to fight?” Katara asked.

Aang laughed once. “Sure. But fighting is just one use for bending. A narrow one too, in my opinion. Think of all the other ways we can bend! Construction, transportation, cooking, art! Airball for crying out loud! Those are all better uses for bending if you ask me.” Aang laughed, a touch of scorn in his voice. 

Katara considered Aang. The Avatar. The Fire Nation’s greatest Weapon. 

The fact that he was such a gentle soul made his current situation truly tragic.

The thought was deeply depressing. And Katara didn’t feel like ruining this night with Aang. So she opted for a diversion.

Katara held up the bottle in her hands. “So do you have glasses in your mountain of supplies?” she asked teasingly.

“Nope!” Aang said snatching the bottle from her and downing a long gulp. “We’re going to drink right out of the bottle like heathens!”

Katara laughed before taking the bottle Aang offered back to her. She drank a long swig. The sourness of the vinegar made her tongue tingle, her face puckering exaggeratedly.

Aang laughed. “It’s good, I promise. You just need to get past that first kick.”

Katara swallowed the liquid in her mouth, noting that the sweetness of the apple did make it go down smoother.

Aang smiled and reached for the bottle, taking another drink. For some reason the action reminded her of her family. Not her most recent family: Zuko and Uncle, since she’d never seen either of them drink straight from a bottle (refugees as they were, some proper aspects of their lives as royalty seemed to have stuck with them). But it reminded her of her real family. In the South Pole. In the springtime, when warm walrus-mare milk could be acquired from the wild herds, her family had taken turns drinking from the carved bone ladle; each drinking and then refilling from the bucket before passing it on to the next person. 

Katara thought of her family—her mother, her father, her brother, even Gran Gran. She’d lost them all. Most often when something reminded her of them, she would feel depressed, or even angry. But curiously, not right now. Sharing the apple-vinegar with Aang just brought a feeling of home; home without the pain.

Aang stretched his long body out on the roof, pushing the pillows he’d bothered to bring up here aside in favor of just laying on the red tiles, one arm up under his head. Katara did the same, laying next to him, noting that the tiles were a little cooler than they’d been an hour ago. “So you don’t want the pillows you hauled up here after all?” she asked teasingly.

Aang turned his head to look at her and smiled. “Naw. They were for you really. I don’t need much to be comfortable. Airbenders don’t really get cold, because we can control the air around our bodies, so I don’t need any blankets. And when we traveled as a kid, I usually slept right on the ground, or maybe on Appa. No need for a bedroll or anything. I prefer not having all of that stuff.” Aang gestured a vague hand towards the pillows.

They turned their attention toward the sky, the giant silver moon throned as queen in the velvety star-speckled blackness of it. Again Katara felt the vibrating energy she seemed to receive from the moon. She took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, relaxing more fully.

The action reminded her of something Uncle Iroh had taught her long ago. It had been rare for their little band of wandering refugees to enjoy any semblance of security in those early days of traveling with Zuko and Iroh. It had been dangerous to travel in such a small group and with so few supplies, not to mention that for a long time Katara hadn’t even completely trusted her Fire Nation traveling companions. Katara had begun to carry the worry and stress of being constantly on high alert in her body. It had started to take a toll on her ability to relax and to sleep.

But she’d noticed that Uncle Iroh never seemed to have any trouble sleeping, even in insecure circumstances. She’d asked him about it one day, and he had told her that as a seasoned war veteran, he had spend years in unsafe territory. Initially he’d been unable to let his guard down. But at some point he had had to learn to trust his safety to those around him, and give himself permission to let his guard down. He’d accepted that something might happen to him while he slept, but he’d learned to trust his companions to do their best to keep him safe, just as he would do for them when it was their turn to sleep. “I recommend that you trust me, Katara. Trust that I will do all in my power to keep you safe,” Uncle had said. He’d then taught her some relaxation techniques, including the deep breathing she had just done. He’d helped her learn how to put her guard down in all the small moments she could. She knew she was still prone to worry, but she had gotten better at being able to put it aside.

Katara breathed deeply again and felt her body relax even more as she laid next to Aang. The fact that she was on a towering rooftop, surrounded by enemies, was superfluous to this moment. She trusted Aang. And she could put the worry about other things aside for the moment. 

 She noticed that Aang seemed at ease as well and mentioned it. 

“Oh I’m very good at living in the present,” Aang shamelessly bragged. “And in the present I am here, under the open sky, with you.” Aang reached out and took her hand in his; Katara’s body thrilled at the contact, loving the way he’d become unafraid to reach out to her. “I can’t imagine a better moment to live in.”

Katara squeezed his hand, and he smiled at her. But his eyes quickly became sober as he turned them back towards the sky. His voice was laced with regret when he spoke, “But sometimes I live in the present to avoid thinking about the future. Or the past. It’s not always a good thing.”

Katara’s mind was brought back to her own regrets. Which of course brought her thoughts to the rebellion. To Zuko. And Iroh. She missed them, her ‘found family.’

It had been some incredible luck to have even seen Zuko’s small life-boat out in the open ocean all those years ago. After the massacre of her town, Katara had salvaged her tribe’s best intact canoe and left the South Pole. She’d already been at sea for several days by the time she spotted Zuko’s boat. If the weather hadn’t been so serene that day their small boats would have certainly missed each other entirely. 

Zuko had called to her then, waving his hands desperately. Katara had been wary, not sure what type of sailor was calling to her. But his pleas for help had stirred her, and she’d ultimately turned her canoe and waterbent her way towards him. 

Prior to leaving the South Pole Katara hadn’t known how to propel a canoe forward with waterbending. But after hours of paddling and getting nowhere in the deep ocean, necessity had taught her, through trial and error, that there was a better way (funny how facing death at sea can bring out some wonderful waterbending innovation).

When Katara had gotten closer to Zuko’s life boat, however, she’d realized that the sailor who called to her was dressed in a Fire Nation soldier’s uniform. She’d stopped abruptly and turned to flee, to leave Zuko to fend for himself. And Katara would have left him there, if it hadn’t been for the desperation in the young man’s voice. “Please! It’s my Uncle! He’s… not responding. Please! I need your help! I’ll do anything!”

Katara had spared him a second look, noticing that the soldier was still a boy, not much older than herself. Compassion had sent her back to help him. 

And Katara was endlessly grateful it had. 

Katara had tied her canoe next to theirs and apprehensively climbed aboard their larger (although not by a lot) boat. Uncle Iroh had lain unconscious on the boat’s floor. Apparently he’d been drugged before being shoved off in the lifeboat with Zuko. By the time Katara had found them, Iroh showed signs of extreme dehydration. 

Katara had rushed back to the cooler box in her canoe. She’d filled the box with fresh snow (that she’d kept frozen through her rudimentary waterbending skills) and pulled a large handful out of it. She had then begun forcing small bits of snow into Uncle’s mouth, letting it melt down his throat. Iroh’s lips had been blue from the cold by the time he’d woken after several hours of she and Zuko taking turns forcing snow into his mouth, but at least the snow’s water was fresh, the ocean itself being undrinkable.

Katara recalled how she had also needed to force Zuko to drink the snow as well, but his mind had been so distraught over his Uncle, that it wasn’t until Iroh had woken that Katara had really been able to make Zuko drink.

“Do you know anything about Zuko, the Firelord’s banished son?” 

Aang’s words startled Katara back into the present. His question was so random and so on topic with her own thoughts that for an irrational moment she wondered if Aang had been eavesdropping on her memories.  

Katara’s guard suddenly shot up. “Why… do you ask?” she asked warily.

Aang shrugged one shoulder. “He was mentioned at dinner tonight,” Aang answered vaguely. But Katara noticed how he didn’t look at her, how he rubbed his forearm distractedly. “I just wondered if you knew anything about him.”

Katara had no idea how to answer, her mind recalling countless memories of Zuko over the last seven years. Finally she settled on something very vague. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him.”

Neither of them said anything more for a time, both lost in their own churning thoughts.

“I met him once, you know,” Aang’s voice broke the silence. “He’s the one who broke me out of the iceberg when I was twelve.” Yes, Katara knew that already. “I don’t remember a lot about him, just that Zuko did a lot of yelling and stomping. But his uncle was nice. He played pai sho with me.” Katara felt a pang imagining sweet old Uncle baiting an unsuspecting Aang with a game as they sailed off to lock the boy in prison. She had to swallow a lump that rose in her throat.

Aang jerked to sitting and rested his forearms on his knees. He picked up the cork he’d set nearby and started pulling little bits of it off with his fingers distractedly. Katara sat up as well, glancing at him, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He was clearly bothered.

“Why do you ask, Aang? About Zuko…?”

“No reason.” His reply was too fast. “He was mentioned. And I wondered.” Aang broke the cork in half and tossed the two halves away.

Again Katara wondered if she should tell Aang. About the Rebellion. The war. About what happened to the Airbenders. But she knew that to do so would likely cost her her life… and even more deterring was the fear that it might cost Aang his life as well. She’d always rationalized that she had time; she could tell him later if she decided to. Katara opened her mouth, wanting to speak. But not knowing what to say. Or how to possibly say it.

But Aang was suddenly on his feet before she could say anything anyway. Katara stood as well.

Aang began fidgeting, his hand rubbing harder on his forearm. Katara walked up close to him and took his arm, stopping the movement. His eyes locked with hers. “What’s wrong, Aang?”

“Do you know that I spent time in prison?” Aang asked seemingly out of the blue; his agitation making his attention sporadic. “I was there for four months. I looked it up once, just to know how long I’d been there. Because it had felt like eternity.” Aang’s voice broke on the last word and he looked up toward the sky, blinking rapidly. Katara could hear the shame and fear in his voice.

Katara’s eyes darted over Aang’s face. He winced, as thought something had hurt him. He jerked his arm out of her hand and began rubbing his wrist again. Suddenly Katara could see it. The chains were gone. But it was as though Aang still felt them there. Like he was trying to get them off.

“Do you know why?” he asked her, the question sounding like an accusation. The wind on the roof was picking up a bit; Katara’s skirt began to flap around her ankles. Was a storm blowing in? No, Katara realized. It was Aang.

“Why what, Aang?”

“Why they put me in prison?!”

She did. It was because he’s the Avatar and the Fire Nation saw him as a threat to their tyranny. But it was clear that he thought it was because of the destruction he caused in the bay while in the Avatar State. Katara’s chin began to tremble, imagining Aang as a scared little boy locked away in a cell. A boy who didn’t know what was going on and had accidentally lost control of an ageless Spirit of Power that lived inside of him.

“Aang,” Katara took his hand, trying to get his attention. To calm him down. She could see that he was beginning to hyperventilate. The wind began to whistle as it sped over the peaked roof. Katara remembered how high up they were, and a sudden fear gripped her. She tried to brace her feet more firmly on the smooth roof tiles.

“It’s because I killed people, Katara!” Aang’s voice croaked out. “And now they want me to…” A blinding white light flashed so brightly that it left Katara seeing spot-glimmers. She blinked, not knowing what had happened. 

When she could see again her hand was empty. Aang had walked several paces away, his back towards her. The wind had stopped—the air now unnaturally still. Katara swallowed, her heart pounding.

“Aang?” Her voice was hardly audible. She stumbled towards him and touched his back. “Aang? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, Katara.”

“Don’t be.”

“I don’t mean to burden you with my… crimes. I just want you to know. So you know what I really am. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’d understand.”

Suddenly Katara’s temper flared! What did he have to be sorry for?! Aang had never meant to hurt anyone! He’d been a little boy!

“Aang, look at me.” He didn’t turn. “Look at me!” she demanded again, pulling on his shoulder to turn him around to face her. Still he looked down and to the side, avoiding her eyes.

“You listen here, Aang!” Katara commanded, righteous anger in her voice.  She put one hand on his cheek to make him look her in the eyes. “I do know what you are! You are a beautiful person, inside and out.” A sob caught in her voice. Instead of trying to talk more, Katara just pulled Aang into her, hugging him tightly. He buried his face in Katara’s neck and gripped her back tightly. 

“None of this is your fault, Aang,” Katara soothed, stroking the back of his neck. Her next words came out in a whisper. “I know who you are. And I love you…”

Aang pulled back sharply at her words, a raw vulnerable hope plain on his face. His eyes glimmered intensely, the light of the full moon reflecting round orbs of light in their grey depths; his gaze an unconditional surrender as he searched her face. Searched for what? A lie? 

The Truth? 

And then he was kissing her, full and on the mouth! Katara's eyes opened wide for a brief elated heartbeat--opened in surprise, not objection. But in the space between one breath and the next—between indecision and certainty—she pulled him resolutely towards her, kissing him fully in return! He whimpered softly between their enclosed mouths, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Katara matched his hunger--her hands gripping his back, his shoulders, his hair. Aang’s touch trailed fire on her body, his mouth stealing her breath even while it gave her new life.

She wanted this! She did. She hadn’t perhaps realized it until this exact moment, but she had needed Aang to kiss her like this for so long now. 

This was Truth. The kind of Truth that you don’t realize until it’s standing beside you, inside of you and banging on your chest, screaming to be heard! Katara’s mind and heart and body were all present, all making this decision as one. Katara’s whole self kissed Aang back.

She didn’t know how she had let it happen. But in this moment Katara knew that she’d let herself fall, irrevocably, in love with the Avatar…

……………..

Aang breathed deeply, then lifted his arms and began the airbending form. 

He’d learned this one when he was around nine or ten, although most airbenders were not introduced to it until they were in their mid to late teens. Aang’s ability to pick things up quickly had sometimes also caused him to get bored easily, and when he’d gotten bored, he’d been more inclined to get into mischief. So Gyatso had not held back in teaching Aang the more advanced forms, to challenge him (if for no other reason than to keep Aang out of more trouble).

Having learned this form at such an early age, practicing through it now was almost as natural as walking. Aang closed his eyes, and let his body turn him, this way, then that—knees bent, feet light, ever ready to rotate if resistance presented itself. Aang let his mind turn as easily as his body, acknowledging his thoughts and letting them blow this way and that as they willed.

And of course, right now his thoughts swirled with Katara.

Last night Aang had kissed Katara in a euphoric, disoriented stupor. Over and over, without hurry but certainly not without urgency. The kisses were long and deep and somehow able to make time disappear.

Her words—I love you—had made Aang’s heart gasp, as though he had been submerged and drowning all these years, and those words, her words, had finally brought him up for a desperate gulp of life-giving air. To be loved—when he’d already loved her so fervently—was as much relief as it was elation. And he’d given himself over to it fully.

 I love you too, he’d said to her with every kiss. At least he’d thought he’d said it out loud, he honestly wasn’t sure. But out-loud or not the words had been infused in his every worshipful touch.

Aang wondered if they would have ever stopped kissing if it weren’t for how, in his elation, he’d begun to raise them off the tiles of the roof in a joyful, swirling wind. Katara had squealed into his mouth and jerked to get her toes back on the ground. Of course they hadn’t risen more than an inch or two off the rooftop, but the action had woken them both from their blissful daze and brought them back to where they were. 

Aang’s eyes opened from the glorious memory at the sound of the heavy wooden doors of the arena being hauled open. Aang turned towards the doors and waited eagerly for Katara to come through them.

It had only been a couple of hours since Aang had left her to attend his sunrise meditation with the Fire Sages, but the time apart had felt long. Funny, how that could be. But if Aang had his way, he would spend every waking (and otherwise!) moment of his life with Katara!

Aang fingered the note in his pocket as he trotted towards Katara. With all the happenings of last night, Aang had forgotten to give her Sokka’s note. But no worries, he could give it to her now.

But when Katara was finally near, he took his hand out of his pocket, her beautiful blue eyes causing him to forget pretty much everything.

“Hey,” he said, feeling an unexpected bashful, fluttering in his stomach.

“Hey,” she said quietly back, a playful tease in her eyes.

Aang stepped towards her, close, not hiding the warmth in his eyes. “I missed you,” he said softly. 

“Missed me?” Katara laughed, “We’ve only been apart a few hours…” 

“I know.”

Katara blushed. Then whispered back, “I missed you, too…” 

Aang reached out his hand, unable to not touch her. He reached up, just to tuck a stray stand of hair behind her ear…

When a sudden flare of blue flame cut between them, burning his hand and bursting into life at their feet! The surge of heat sent the pair of them jumping away from one another. Aang sucked in a hiss of pain and shook his hand—the one that had just touched Katara’s hair—as a searing red burn emerged on the back of it.

Aang and Katara looked up, and there above them on the second story balcony stood Princess Azula, her golden eyes raining rage down upon them. 

…………….

[thefaceman]

Runaway Chpt. 3 Sneak Peek

Mikey woke up with cold sweats, his hand clenching the strap around his chest as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room. His chest heaved as he tried to slow his breathing a little. A nightmare, something he hadn’t had in months, now plagued his thoughts and gave him an unsettling feeling crawling all the way down his spine. His breath shook slightly as he lifted his body out of his hammock and walked out of his room. A nap was a good idea until the pictures of possible outcomes his brother could be dealing with flashed into his mind as he slept.

A week.

Leo’s been gone for a week.

And it was killing Mikey on the inside.

He sighed. Despite the gaping hole his heart, Mikey knew he had to keep moving forward. Walking into the kitchen, he opened the fridge, taking out a package of sashimi and a bottle of sweet n' sour sauce. He reached into the cupboard closest to the stove and took out a box of rice, remembering the exact dish that Leo claimed was his favorite when the four of them weren’t shoveling pizza down their throats: Rice topped with Sweet n’ Sour Sashimi. The thought made Mikey smile, memories of family leftover nights where Loe would scarf down as much of the dish as possible.

Placing the pot of rice onto the stove to cook, he contemplated whether or not to make a cup of tea for Leo. He had to come home tonight. He just had to and Mikey was going to be fully prepared for when he does. So there he was, standing there as the stove began boiling water in the confines of a tea kettle. Sighing deeply, he turned to the fridge, grabbing a juice box and just barely noticed the swoosh motion of a rat tail from the kitchen doorway. “Oh, hey dad. Um, I'm making dinner if you’re hungry…” his voice trailed away, seeing the dark circles under his father’s eyes. His nose scratched up a tad, a smell of something he didn’t recognize lingering off of him. “Um, d-do you want some Rice topped with Sashimi?”

His father’s head jerked slightly, his gaze avoiding Mikey’s direction all together. “Thank you Orange...but no thank you.” The conversation stopped there, his dad now making his way to his room and closing the door behind him. Mikey let out another sigh, going back to his cooking and trying his best to not think too much of the state his dad was currently in.

Stress.

Stress was all it was.

They were all stressed, worries of a missing family member were bound to happen when said family member decides to run off.

And stress only causes strain.

The lair had grown quiet over the course of a few days. Raph had spoken a few times, just to make sure Mikey and Donnie were okay, but Donnie? They had stopped talking to their brothers all together. After Leo had been gone for longer than then three days, Donnie began to build walls around himself, angering the orange clad brother so much that it launched the two of them into a full-scale argument. Mikey stirred the pot of rice, the fight still fresh in his mind as the ach in his heart was getting more and more painful.

“What is your deal Donnie?! How are we supposed to find Leo if you don’t take the initiative to even help us look?!”

Donnie narrowed their eyes, their drawn on eyebrows showing the visible irritation on their face. “Maybe we shouldn’t even be looking..” They turned head away from the youngest, not really meaning their words but unable to stop themselves. But Mikey didn’t know that, his body shaking with anger.

“WHAT?!” The boom in his voice startled the inventor clad in purple. “Don’t you ever say that! Leo is a part of this family Donatello!”

“Why are you even getting pissy with me?! He’s the one that abandoned us!” Those weren’t the words they wanted to say. They wanted to cry, to break down and admit that they were scared that Leo wasn’t coming back. But that didn’t stop the words from escaping their mouth. Mikey’s eyes widened in shock, his anger only growing the more this heated conversation went on.

“Don’t you fucking dare blame Leo for this!”

“Mikey? Whatcha maken’ there buddy?” The gentle tone of Raph’s voice snapped Mikey out of his thoughts, turning his attention to the massive snapping turtle walking through the doorway of the kitchen. Mustering up a smile as best as he could manage, Mikey began setting up the table. “I’m making Rice topped with Sashimi. Would you like some milk with your food?”

Raph stiffened, knowing full well who’s favorite that was, but nonetheless gave Mikey a smile even though his eyes were laced with sadness. “Oh, um, yeah that would be nice. Thank you Mikey.” It was quiet after that, the air settling into well accustomed silence as Mikey began cutting the fish into mouth sized slices. He hummed to break it, tired of quietness that now became the norm. “Mikey? Would you like me to go fetch Don?” The stiffness in Mikey’s shoulders did not go unnoticed. He hadn’t talked to Donnie since the argument four days prior. He hated being mad at his siblings, but he wasn't ready to speak to Don just yet and maybe that’s why Raph asked to go get him. Maybe Raph was tired of the anger and sadness too.

“Yeah, I should be done with setting up the table by then.” he spoke quietly, his soft small voice barely making any noise but was heard by the gentle giant nonetheless, “I made cake before taking my nap so don’t over stuff yourself, okay?” Raph just let out a small laugh, the joy almost sounding foreign from all sadness that lingered over the home for the past week. Raph left their eating quarters, leaving Mikey all alone. He took this as an opportunity to mentally prepare himself, the guilt of screaming at one of his older siblings hanging above his head was just too much and he was worried that Donnie didn’t even want to be in the same room as him let alone talk to him. With a soft sigh, he finished slicing the fish and got to work setting the rest of the table with their dinner. He sat a cup of the boiling hot water at Leo's seat of the table, setting a tea-bag inside and placing his bowl right next to it. He smiled gingerly, the thought of his brother coming back in time for a hot meal running through his head as he put the rice bowl together. His breath hitched slightly as the two testudines walked through the doorway, noticing a small bruise on Raph’s left arm. “Everything alright?"

[catflorist]

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

The Time Being pt. 1: slipping

By the southern tip of Fire country, Sakura dropped her bags once she spotted two colossal rock formations jutting out of the ocean. Wood erupted from the ground, shaping itself the way she wanted. By sunset, a one-roomed house with big windows stood on the beach.

Days bled into one another. Sakura gathered stones to lay a path and explored the tide pools. Her cat, Hime, claimed a sunny patch on the kitchen counter as her own. The salt and humidity in the air curled the ends of her long hair. From her bed in the loft, Sakura watched waves crash against the rock formations, the giants resting in the surf. 

It was not long before he appeared. He arrived in the normal way, materializing from particles of air.

.

. 

On the eve of Sasuke’s seventh birthday, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he was half-asleep in bed. On the other end, he was standing in a bright kitchen as a tingle faded from his fingers.

A woman swooped into the room. Her eyes brightened. “Hello there,” she said, placing a hand on her pregnant belly. 

Sasuke’s mouth opened, scrambling to explain his presence. He did not want to scare her, especially if she was having a baby. But the woman’s brow remained smooth and unworried, like she was expecting him.

That’s how Sasuke knew he was dreaming.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“People can’t eat in dreams,” he scoffed.

She crossed her arms. “Why not?”

Sasuke shifted on his bare feet and shrugged. He didn’t know enough about dreams to argue his case, and she was clearly a dream creature. Her hair was odd—pink like springtime flowers—and her eyes were too green to be real.

The woman placed a bowl on the table, and he took a seat. She served a breakfast of miso soup, rice, and grilled fish. Sasuke’s stomach growled at the smell.

“Am I still in Konoha?” Sasuke asked as he ate. The view from the window looked familiar, but greener, somehow.

The woman touched a finger to her chin. “Yes. But not the Konoha you know.”

Sasuke nodded. It was a dream, after all. “What will your baby’s name be?”  

“Sarada,” she said, then her eyebrows shot up.

“What is it?”

The woman pressed a palm to her stomach. “She just kicked. Would you like to feel?” 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again. Chopsticks slipped from his grip. He frowned at his hands.

“Looks like you’re going, Sasuke-kun,” the woman said.

Sasuke had not told her his name, but her knowing did not startle him. He offered her a smile, but he was back in his bed. He drifted asleep. 

In the kitchen the next morning, his mother stifled a knowing look and set a fish on the counter. “Good morning. Will you help with the rice?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, but he measured and rinsed the rice like she had taught him.

Mikoto stopped halfway through deboning the fish. “Why’s that? Are you feeling sick?”

“I ate in my dream,” Sasuke mumbled, feeling foolish. He set the rice over the stovetop—he was tall enough to reach now.  

“Sounds like a pleasant dream,” Itachi said from behind. Sasuke turned. His brother leaned down to tap his forehead, wearing the smile he reserved only for Sasuke. 

Mikoto produced a plate of freshly-sliced tomatoes. “Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun.”

.

.

“Ichiraku’s?” Naruto begged, as Team Seven crossed the gate into Konoha. The setting sun bathed the village in a warm glow. After weeks of traveling, the noise of sizzling street food, wooden carts rolling over stone paths, and distant shouts overwhelmed Sasuke’s ears.

“I’m pretty tired,” Sakura said, hopping to adjust the weight of her travel pack. The three teammates all wore dirt, grime, and rumpled bandages as marks of their recent mission.

“It’ll be on me!” Naruto patted various pockets for his frog wallet and frowned at its contents. “Hey, sensei, can I borrow some money?”

Kakashi turned to face his three students. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What a shame—I don’t have my wallet on me. I’ll leave you to it.” Beneath his mask, his expression grew serious. “Good work, you three. Take the week off.”

Kakashi’s praise was hard won, and this time, well deserved. Team Seven’s assignment in the Land of Waves—their first serious mission as a team—had not gone according to plan.

Naruto spoke again, but Sasuke did not hear him. He was returning from this mission with two things: a newly-awakened bloodline trait and a near-death experience. He rubbed his forearm, dispelling phantom pricks from the memory of Haku’s senbon. 

“…so tomorrow, then?” Naruto said, drawing Sasuke back to the present.

Sakura blinked, dropping her eyes from Sasuke’s face. “What’s that?”

“Tomorrow we’ll train like normal. Kakashi-sensei said that’s fine!” Naruto said, pointing to Kakashi’s retreating form. 

“Great. Thanks, Naruto,” Sakura chided.

In solidarity with Sakura, Sasuke rolled his eyes, but he was not displeased with the change in plans. He liked training. He was used to his teammates.

“Yeah, no problem!” Naruto flashed his teeth. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Shouldn’t we drop off our stuff first?” Sakura asked.

“But I’m starving,” Naruto wailed.

“You don’t have any money,” she pointed out.

Sasuke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s just go,” he mumbled. 

Naruto’s eyes widened. He gripped his teammate’s shoulders. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Sasuke scowled and shrugged away Naruto’s hands.

“Can I please get an extra egg with my order? Please please please?”

Naruto ordered two extra eggs. And extra chashu. And gyoza, "For the table,” he insisted, situating the platter next to his own bowl. 

As they ate, Naruto sighed with contentment. “Sakura—you’re great and all—but Sasuke-kun is my favorite teammate right now.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and cast a glance at the vanishing gyoza.

“I’m very hurt,” she said cordially, then frowned. “Stop hogging the gyoza.”

Team Seven might always bicker and rub each other the wrong way. But traveling, sleeping, fighting beside each other for the past few weeks had forged a strange new bond between them. Somewhere they had crossed a line, and now Sasuke would protect his teammates without a second thought. In turn, they would protect him. They already had.

For a moment in that battle, Sasuke had closed his eyes, fully believing he would die and leave Itachi the last Uchiha. Instead he had woken to Sakura’s face. She had not let him out of her sight since. 

Sakura stole the last four pieces of gyoza, dividing them between her plate and Sasuke’s.

“You finished it,” Naruto complained. Sakura clicked her tongue in regret. 

Naruto lived suspiciously close to Ichiraku’s. After the meal ended, he darted home with a smile, leaving Sakura and Sasuke alone outside.

Sakura smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“The dobe wouldn’t shut up otherwise.”

“Naruto will never leave you alone now,” she teased. This was also new. 

“Whatever,” Sasuke said. But he did not mind footing the bill. In all likelihood, he would do it again.

“Where do you live?” 

“Near the Academy.” He did not know who had arranged his housing, but they had chosen well: a busy area full of shops and restaurants, walking distance from the Uchiha compound, but not within sight. “You?”

Sakura named a nearby neighborhood populated by working-class, civilian families. Sasuke inspected his shoes. “All right,” he said, and started walking in that direction. After a couple steps he scowled. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Ah,” Sakura exclaimed. She fell into stride beside him.

Sakura was unusually quiet on the way home. They reached her door, narrow and flaking with old green paint. She dropped her bag and sat on the stoop. Sasuke accepted the unspoken invitation and took a seat.

“It’s strange to be back, after all that,” she said, cupping her cheeks, elbows balanced on her knees. “It doesn't feel real.”

Sasuke understood better than most. No matter what happened, the world went on.

“I’m really glad—” She swallowed, lip trembling. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Sasuke mumbled, “Yeah.”

Sakura flung her arms around him. She smelled like the soap they bought in the Land of Waves, and also something sweet, like the fresh forest air around Konoha. Her elbow jutted painfully into his ribs, and pink hair tickled his nose, but he didn't move. After a breath, he grazed her back with his fingertips, so light he didn’t know if she could feel.

“I don’t think things should be this way. Don’t you think?” Sakura’s quiet voice was close enough to his ear that he had no trouble hearing. At his silence, she pulled away. “We shouldn’t have to fight this hard. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

“This is how things are,” he said. He didn’t know any other way. He had been fighting for so long.

“Why?” Sakura asked.

Sasuke had never thought to ask this question. He frowned. Somewhere down the alley, water was dripping upon stone.

“Okay, I’m done.” Sakura exhaled. “I’ll stop annoying you now.”

“You don’t annoy me,” Sasuke mumbled. His palms tingled as the words left his mouth.

Sakura’s eyes sparkled, but she did not comment, and Sasuke was grateful.

They rose and Sakura and placed a hand on the door handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, then scowled. “No thanks to Naruto.”

The door creaked softly as it shut, then Sasuke was alone. He dropped his pack at the door of his silent apartment and set out for training ground twelve. Secluded and near the woods, it was a place where he spent many sleepless nights. 

As Sasuke threw kunai at targets he could barely see, a shiver ran down his spine, and his head spun. The kunai slipped from his grasp. When the sensation passed he was no longer in the training ground. 

The first thing he heard was a small sniffle. Smooth wooden floors and walls came into focus around him. A figure sat on the ground with their head lowered. Even though he couldn't see their face, Sasuke knew who it was.

“Sakura?”

She looked up. Tears clung and trembled upon her eyelashes. “Hello, Sasuke,” she said, with a watery smile.

“You…you’re different,” he accused, narrowing his eyes.She was not the Sakura he knew so well. Short pink hair fell to her chin. Her limbs were longer, her shoulders straighter. She wore the uniform of a chunin. He wondered if he was dreaming. “How old are you?” 

Sakura wiped her cheeks with the heel of her palm, and the rest of Sasuke’s questions fled his mind. 

“Who hurt you?” Sasuke did not know why he assumed this. Sakura was not visibly injured, and there were plenty of things that might cause her to cry. But she drew a shaky breath, and he knew he was right. She was upset. She was in pain. His gut clenched in anger.

“Who?” he demanded.

Sakura’s lip trembled. “Don’t worry, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke sat. With his jaw locked, he threaded his fingers with hers. Sasuke hated unnecessary physical contact. But it was not the worst thing in the world to hold Sakura’s hand. His own Sakura would never know, and the loophole emboldened him.

Her eyes shut. After a long few seconds, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

It struck Sasuke that Sakura was not at all surprised by his sudden appearance. “What is this? What am I doing here?” he asked. She would tell him, if she knew.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She cleared her throat. “It happens, sometimes—us meeting like this. It will happen again. When you go back, it’s best you don’t tell anyone.”

“Why is this happening?” Another question occurred to him. “If you’re here,” he asked, “then where am I?”

Sakura said, “We love you, Sasuke. Kakashi, Naruto, and me. Always. I hope you know that.”

If these words had come from his own Sakura, he might have scowled and said something rude. But this Sakura would see straight through him. So Sasuke nodded. He knew. 

Sakura’s mouth curved up, and her eyes crinkled shut. It was a smile so soft and warm that Sasuke thought he imagined her earlier tears. Sasuke knew Sakura was pretty in the same way he knew springtime was pretty. But now, somehow it was more. It ached. 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again.

Through the ringing of his ears, he heard Sakura say, “Thank you for coming. I feel better.”

Moonlight glinted off the metal of an abandoned kunai at his feet. Cicadas shrilled in the darkness. Reaching for the kunai, Sasuke realized Sakura had not answered his last question. But the way she smiled at him, he knew that wherever he was, he was okay. 

Sasuke felt off the next day.

First, he was late to training. “I overslept,” he muttered. His teammates gaped, because when they traveled together Sasuke was always the first awake. 

Then there was the matter of Sakura. Sasuke was alarmed, because looking at her now set off a curious, soft pang in his stomach. He stared at her until a flush colored her cheeks, which somehow made everything worse.

“What?” she asked.

Something strange is happening. I saw you. You had short hair. You were in pain. 

“Would you ever cut your hair?” he could not help but ask.

Sakura frowned and touched the ends of her long hair. “I don’t know. Should I?” 

“Never mind.”

She grinned. “Why? Are you offering?”

Naruto appeared beside them. “What’s this about haircuts?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke grumbled.

“Are you cutting hair now, Sasuke?” Naruto asked.

“I don’t think you’d be very good at it,” Sakura kindly informed him. Sasuke scowled. This was not a skill he intended to master, but he was offended all the same.

Lastly, at the start of their lunch break, Sasuke leaned back against a tree and fell into a short, shallow doze. When he jerked awake his surroundings trembled in a perfect clarity. He could count the feathers of the hawk soaring above him.

“Sasuke?” a voice called. “Don’t you want to eat?”

Sakura knelt beside him. Her brow furrowed. She did not drop her gaze, looking straight into his red eyes. His Sharingan jumped to memorize every detail of her face.

Sasuke blinked hard. Sometimes the smallest triggers activated his new bloodline trait: a twig snapping, a cold breeze on the back of his neck, the motion of waking up from sleep. Sasuke’s vision swam as the scope of his awareness returned to normal. Naruto approached them, swinging his bagged lunch, and the movement made Sasuke’s head throb. He shut his eyes.

“Seven thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight,” he murmured, as Naruto sat beside him.

“What?” Sakura asked, voice soft.

After a beat of silence, Naruto said, “Sasuke-kun, you need a longer nap. You’re slipping.”

Sasuke experimented with opening his eyes and this time was successful. He fixed his teammates with a stern stare and jerked his chin up. “That’s how many feathers are on that bird.”

As one, Sakura and Naruto looked up to the bird circling over their heads.

“He’s right.” Kakashi’s shadow fell over them. Shading his eyes from the sun, he tilted his head towards Sasuke. “It gets easier to switch between, as time goes on.”

Sasuke stilled. Once, a whole clan shared in the dizzying experience of wielding a Sharingan. Now there was only Kakashi to guide him.

Kakashi wandered off, and the genin ate lunch together in the shade of the tree. They sat in their normal arrangement—Sakura in the middle, Naruto on her right, Sasuke on her left. As they traveled, this was the way they sat down to eat. It was even how they arranged their bedrolls at night. Everything was as it should be.

Except Naruto’s word stuck in Sasuke’s mind. Slipping. That’s exactly what it was. He had slipped through the cracks of his time and into another.

Sakura bumped her knee against his own. “Are you all right?”

Sasuke nodded.

He felt seen. It was not such a bad thing.

.

.

With training and preparing for the chunin exams, the slipping fell to the back of Sasuke’s mind. Then in the Forest of Death, he awoke to see Sakura with newly shorn hair. She was one step closer to the girl he saw in that waking dream. He had failed to protect her, and now she was in pain.  

The dark lines of his new curse mark leaked over his skin, and he unleashed all his power against the ones who hurt her, until Sakura begged him to stop. Only her touch brought him back to himself.

.

. 

Sasuke was leaving Konoha in the night when he slipped again.

It was sudden this time, violent, like the ground giving way to a pit beneath his feet. Daylight blinded him. His head spun. Pins and needles pricked his fingers.

“Sasuke-kun,” someone said.

Sasuke couldn’t speak. It had taken every last shred of his willpower to leave. And now she was in front of him again like it had been nothing.

“I see,” Sakura said. “You’re leaving now, aren’t you?”

She was taller than him. They were on a dark street, but he could make out the white coat she wore.

The worst part was the kindness on her face. The understanding. Like she knew.

His eyes stung.

With a jolt Sasuke returned to his own time. He was alone in the dark woods, three hours from Konoha. Still close enough to return. Sasuke touched his face and discovered he had been crying.

He wondered if Sakura was cold where he had left her. 

His curse mark itched, then it throbbed. Sasuke set off again.

Two days later, Naruto caught up with him. They confronted each other against the waterfall.

“Sakura told me not to come,” Naruto said. “She said you’d come back.”

“What does Sakura know?” he scoffed.

They fought. In the end, Sasuke was the one left standing. He left everything and everyone behind. He was strong.

.

.

.

. 

Up next: As he trains with Orochimaru, Sasuke slips to an older Sakura, who is living by the ocean. Other notes: -I started writing this fic in late July and finished in early October. When first playing around with the idea, I wrote "this cannot be another 40 page fic." Joke's on me because it became an 80 page fic, lol.

-I have not read/watched Boruto, so I am not aware of the specifics of Sasuke's time travel works in that verse. In this story, it is something he can't control. Please ignore any discrepancies!

-This whole fic was inspired by @theredconversegirl's fic The Red Loop, with art by myr_art. Thank you to them for their inspiration! 

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed :)

[chernobog13]

YOU KNOW YOUR SUSHI IS FRESH WHEN--

--they carve up a giant tuna on a table in the restaurant!

Just as I went to dinner at the Itamae Sushi Restaurant, on the first floor of the Shinjuku Toho Building, some men came in, dragged three or four tables together, and placed a freshly-caught giant tuna on the tables.

The sushi chefs then came out and started carving up the tuna right there in the middle of the dining area.

The meat was removed from each portion, leaving the skin.  All the diners in the restaurant (even me, the lone gaijin) were given small containers of rice and a clam shell.  We then took turns scraping the remainder of the meat from inside the skin into the rice bowls.  Everyone got free maguro that night.

The lady sitting next to me at the counter was so successful at filling her container with maguro that when the meal she ordered was served she could hardly eat a bite.

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 2

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: none... yet

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name,

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Jisung is waiting for fourth period to begin and homeroom announcements to be over when he overhears two girls discussing the play. He stops doodling in the margins of his notebook once he hears you being mentioned.

“She’s so lucky! She gets to kiss Hwang Hyunjin!” the one with the ponytail exclaims.

So that’s Romeo’s name. He makes a mental note to look him up on Facebook and Instagram later.

Her voice then drops to a whisper. “I heard they kissed during in-class rehearsal.”

Jisung snorts and quickly disguises it as a sneeze. Stage kisses in school productions are almost always fake; based on his experience, there’s usually a hand hiding obscuring the kiss, so the actors get as close as possible without actual contact.

“She’s so lucky,” the other girl sighs. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Why did you have to get the part of Juliet and not me?” she dramatically says.

Jisung silently agrees but for a totally different reason and goes back to drawing sunbursts when the conversation turns into a debate about who would be the second best choice for Romeo.

Jisung leaves his belongings in the green room after school and sits with Chan behind the soundboard while he waits for rehearsal to start. Chan is busy with testing new sound effects and new music choices, so Jisung scrolls through Hwang Hyunjin’s Instagram. He only finds food pictures and some videos of him dancing. Nothing incriminating.

“Hey, did you bring dinner today? Me, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin were planning to go to the convenience store during dinner break,” Chan invites.

Jisung has a bowl of instant noodles and a thermos of hot water in his backpack. “I’ve got food already.”

“Ah, next time then!”

“Actors! To your places!” comes through on the loudspeaker, and Jisung hurries backstage. The balcony is being pushed back to the center of the stage already. He shimmies through the gap between the wall and the main curtain, trying not to trip on any cables. Changbin is sitting with his giant binder open and his headset on. He points to another headset on the table, and Jisung takes it and puts it on. The comms are already abuzz with bad jokes and the sounds of turning pages.

The side door opens, and you rush in, adjusting the circlet in your hair. Your lips close and part, and Jisung can only imagine the swears you’re mouthing. He wants to shout something encouraging, but that would only delay you. He also has no idea what he would say anyway. The floor lights for the cyclorama tint your whole body blue as you hurry to the stairs for the balcony. You make it to the top just in time.

Ms. Park tells Hyunjin to start from “She speaks.” To Jisung’s delight, Hyunjin has not improved from yesterday, and his delivery only is slightly better than monotone. Meanwhile, you look as crestfallen as you possibly can. You rest your cheek on one hand and gaze into the distance, which turns out to be the back of the auditorium where the soundboard and light board are. Romeo likens Juliet to an angel, and Jisung agrees —  you’re beautiful, bright, and out of his reach.

Hyunjin ends his lines, and it’s your turn to say the most famous line of the entire play: “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?”

Your cries resonate with him; why did Hyunjin have to be Romeo? If he knew that you were going to audition for the lead role, he would have too. If the current Romeo managed to get the part, then he would have had no problem. He could have been the one looking up at you, telling the world how lovely he thought you were.

Though he’s far away and off to the side, he sees the way you glow as you recite your lines. Your passion radiates off of you, and Jisung gets a direct hit. He’s so enamored by you, he doesn’t even mind when Hyunjin poorly says his lines.

It’s like that for the rest of the scene. Jisung remains standing and watches you and Hyunjin flirt in Elizabethan English. Before the scene ends, Jisung detaches himself from the curtain and positions himself by the prop table. He pretends to be rearranging the props so that as soon as the lights go out and the tech crew members on stage left drag the balcony back into the wings, you speedily walk to the other wing where he is.

It’s strange to be excited by a mundane act, but that’s what love does, he supposes. He whispers, “Be careful of the cables,” at you.

“I know,” you whisper back. There’s no sharpness to it; it’s just a simple statement.

You brush past him, and your arm, raised from holding your skirt, knocks into his elbow. He stiffens, and you murmur an apology before leaving through the side door.

After a less than satisfactory scene four, the director decides it’s time for a dinner break. There’s a few cheers in the comms and an audible sigh of relief from the girl playing Nurse. Ms. Park reminds them that dinner will end at 6, so she expects them to be back in the auditorium by then. Changbin is already leaping out of his chair and running down the stairs on the side of the stage. Jisung imagines that Chan, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are just as ready to eat; they were discussing what to buy for dinner right when the scene started.

Jisung follows the other members of the crew to the classroom for dinner. The room is just as crowded as before, and there’s a long line to use the microwave. Jisung squeezes through the groups of people and gets out his meal.

“That’s a smart idea,” a familiar voice comments. When he looks up from his water pouring, he sees that it’s you.

He looks at the glass container in your hands and realizes that you’re one of ones waiting to heat up your food. “Your dinner’s probably better though,” he lamely responds. His face begins to feel warm, and it’s not from the steam.

“It’s the slightly burnt fried rice I made three days ago,” you smile. “Wanna trade?”

He wants to say yes so badly. But it would be better to play it cool, right? The panic must have shown on his face since you laugh and say, “Knew it.”

The line shuffles forward and so do you. He turns back to his food, disappointed that he didn’t take you up on your offer. He likes fried rice.

(And you, but that’s only the tiniest bit relevant to his plight.)

He is halfway through his meal when the chair in front of him is pulled out. You sit and set your container down. He smells kimchi with a touch of smoke.

“Hi,” you say. The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Any chance you’re willing to trade?”

Jisung shakes his head, playing along. “I’m half way through mine already, sorry.”

“Darn.”

There’s a moment of silence before he decides to break it. “Your name’s Y/N, right?”

“Mhm.” You swallow your rice. “It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but… I don’t actually know yours,” you slowly say. “And we’re eating together, which makes it doubly embarrassing.”

The way you say it makes Jisung’s heart pound. It’s like a date, but not really. “I’m Jisung.”

“The props guy, right?”

He shakes his head “I’m part of the floor crew. ”

“Oh! I saw you by the props earlier, so I thought you were. And you’re always watching the play, so I thought you were waiting for cues or something.”

A wide variety of curses appear in his mind. He can’t let you know the real reason why.

“No! I just really like Shakespeare,” he makes up. More unnecessary lies flow out. “Romeo and Juliet is a really great play. I love the plot and the characters. Speaking of, our play is going to be so great. You — I mean, the entire cast is perfect.”

You light up at the compliment, and Jisung swears he’s looking directly at the sun. “You think so?”

You’re far too amazing to be stupid, naive Juliet, but he nods his head anyway. “You’re a good actress.”

“How do you feel about Hyunjin then? Does he live up to your expectations?”

The brainless Romeo who only pursues Juliet out of lust? “Yeah. He’s exactly like Romeo.”

“Hyunjin will be happy to hear that,” you say. You glance at the clock, and Jisung does too. It’s only a few minutes away from six o’clock. “Dinner’s almost over. Darn, I need to get into costume, too.”

While you pick through the less appetizing portions of your meal, Jisung finishes the last of his noodles. Not a minute passes before you snap the lid back on the container and jump out of your seat. You hurriedly say goodbye and run out the door to the dressing room.

Jisung stays seated, processing what happened. Was it a friendly conversation or flirting? Did you eat dinner with him because you felt bad for him or because you were interested in him? He replays the last few minutes in his head. You started the conversation and chose to sit at his table, so it had to mean something. You joked with him and beamed at his compliment, but you also brought up Hyunjin and no one else. He sighs and leans back in his chair before someone yelling the time makes him jump out of it.

He helps set up the next scene before watching the play from stage right like before. He feels strangely betrayed when he hears how desperately you, as Juliet, want to hear Romeo’s message after getting his hopes up at dinner. His brain knows it’s not real, but his heart thinks otherwise. He paces in a small circle to try and get out his nervous energy. He stops after a minute and forces himself to think of something else. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s him that you’re referring to; he’s the one you want to marry.

In his daydream, you stand in front of him in a white dress and a circlet instead of a veil. The bouquet of roses in your hand matches the glowing blush across your cheeks. You look up at him through your long lashes, and Jisung can barely hold himself together at the sight of you. His hand covers his mouth to stifle his soft sobs. You’re no different. With shaky breaths, you hold a piece of paper in front you and read your vows.

“... in sickness and health. I promise to love you until death do us part,” you manage to say through your tears.

The minister pronounces you husband and wife, and Jisung reaches out to cup your face. In reality though, he is only able to touch air. The pretty stained glass of the church is soon swallowed by the darkness of backstage. There’s no organ playing, only Changbin yelling at him in his ear to get ready for Act III.

The first scene of Act III features a poorly choreographed sword fight, two deaths, and not you. In other words, nothing of Jisung’s interests. Rehearsal ends after the scene is finished, and Jisung halfheartedly listens to the tech director’s notes. Like yesterday, he gets called out for not paying attention enough to calls. He once again promises to do better, but Mr. Gi and Changbin don’t look like they’re buying it. He really has to do better tomorrow.

When everyone is finally dismissed, Jisung goes back to the classroom in hopes of seeing you before he goes home. The actors are still receiving notes from the director, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to be done soon. He tries to catch your eye while he grabs his belongings, but you’re fully listening to Ms. Park. To add to his disappointment, he notices that Hyunjin is sitting by you. Thus, Jisung “accidentally” opens his textbook, sending all his papers to the floor, hoping that you take notice. You do and give him a sympathetic smile.

He plays “Marry You” on the drive back home and sings along, thinking of you.

~ ad.gray

[sage-sunset]

sunflowers in the rainy winter  - akaashi bday special

this is an aged up, post-college au for my akaashi simps out there

warnings - not much, total fluff, a bit suggestive at the very end 

recommended - 14+

wc - 2.2k

______

“Happy birthday, baby!” He looks you up and down, rubbing his tired eyes. You’re standing there in that pastel blue puffer coat that he bought you a month ago, shaking from the cold with raindrops stuck to your eyelashes. It’s pouring outside, and you’re holding your umbrella in one hand and a box in the other.

“y/n… love… it’s 12:07. In the morning.”

“I know! I wanted to beat Bokuto this year, he probably won’t get here until two!” “...until?” “You must be tired. Let’s go to bed!” You set the umbrella in the bag and put it in the little stand he has before taking off your coat. You’re wearing fuzzy flannel pajamas, the set Bokuto got the three of you last year. You’re still shivering when you put the box into the fridge and then pull him into the bedroom.

Normally you like to hold him, but since you’re freezing like this, he wraps you into his arms and you flop onto the bed together to huddle under the blankets. Your feet are like ice cubes, and he kisses your forehead and smiles into your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. 

He may have been woken up at midnight, but you being here already makes it the best birthday ever.

_

He’s barely dozed off when the door bursts open, and the telltale “HEY HEY HEY” rings out. He rolls his eyes and sits up to see his best friend, standing there in his soaked glory. You’re somehow still asleep, hands clinging to his shirt.

Bokuto is covered in rain, his silvery hair plastered to his clammy forehead. It’s so cold outside Keiji is surprised it’s not snowing.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BRO-” “Bokuto-san, please keep it down. Y/N is still sleeping.” “My bad! HAHAHA-” “Loud.” “Sorry!” He whisper-yells, and Keiji rolls his eyes again. Why did he give this doofus a house key? “Anyways, if you’re this adamant about being here, you can crash on the couch like last year.” “Nah, I’m gonna go home. It’s cold as balls outside, and I want my blanket!” Just like that, he leaves. He spent a good 25 minutes walking over to Keiji’s house in the freezing cold rain at midnight, and he literally just yelled for thirty seconds and then left again.

What the fuck? He tries not to think about it, and goes back to letting you curl into him.

_

This time, he wakes up by himself. The curtain’s open, light filters through, and he sits up. You’re not there, but the smell of something delicious wafts through the apartment.

He rubs his eyes and checks the time, it’s only a bit past eight. He smiles when he walks into the kitchen to see you making something, obviously the source of the smell.

“Love, what’s this?” “Making waffles for my waffle!” He stares at you.

“That sounded much more romantic in my head.” His waffle is just the way he likes them; crispy but still soft and fluffy inside. He stares at it, a warm fuzzy feeling bubbling inside at the little message you’ve spelled out in syrup over the whipped cream; “HAPPY BIRTHDAY”. Jesus, he needs to marry you soon.

“Do you want coffee or tea?” “Coffee, please.” He takes a bite once you’ve sat down. It’s perfect, and as he eats he stares at you. You’re perfect too. 

“So, I’m sure you’ve already booked my day full. What are the plans?” You giggle, and the sound makes him feel even warmer.

“I remembered last month that you said that that new gallery was opening up at the museum. And Tsukishima-kun told me that there’s a big shark exhibit opening at the aquarium. So I figured-” “We go to the gallery, get lunch at that cafe we love, and see the sharks?” “You read my mind! Do you want to do that? If not, we can plan something else-” He takes one of your hands in his, and gently presses a kiss to your knuckle, right on your little silver band.

“It sounds absolutely perfect.” He starts to gather up the dishes, but you swat him away.

“You’re the birthday boy, go get ready! Oh, and I forgot to mention, Kuroo-san said that he and a few others are coming over around seven. So we should try to get back by five or so.” He pecks your cheek as you wash the dishes, and you giggle again.

“That’s fine. Do you know how long they’ll be over?” “Not sure, but it won’t be too late, trust me. I’ll have plenty of time to see my birthday boy in his birthday suit…” He blushes, and you turn back to washing the plates. 

“Go take a shower. I’ll join you in a bit.”

_

The gallery is incredible. You seem to agree, staring into each painting with focus and intent. The good thing about you both being artsy is that you can enjoy this kind of thing together.

He holds your hand gently as you lead him to the centerpiece. It’s nothing short of breathtaking. A huge, sprawling field of sunflowers in the middle of summer. The sky is the purest blue you can imagine, and puffy clouds float in the sea of azure. There’s a pair of hot air balloons floating among the clouds, one decorated in oranges and one in purples. In the distance a little farmhouse sits on the hill. The painting is oil, and it’s huge, taller than him. 

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it, Keiji?” He says nothing, staring into the flower field. He imagines for a second that it’s real, that you and him are standing in the ocean of sunflowers, under the summer sky.

That farmhouse could be yours. He can see it, a quiet life there with you two. He’d spend the day writing, you’d spend the day playing the piano and singing with that little fairy voice of yours. 

You’d take a picnic basket down into the field, lay down a little blanket and watch the sunset on the hill. Just the two of you, safe and calm and warm as the sun fades away.

“Keiji?” He’s startled out of his fantasy to see you looking at him, a smile playing at your lips.

“Did you hear me?” “Sorry, what did you say?” “I just said that you’ve been staring at that painting for the past fifteen minutes. I’m starting to get jealous,” you tease.

He smiles at that notion. The painting may be beautiful, but it fades in comparison to you. But then again, so does everything else.

“Let’s get lunch, love. We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch those sharks.” -

This cafe may well be his favorite place on earth. Simply put, it’s where you met. You worked there part time, and he’d stopped by every day after class to get his work done. Once he’d first seen you though, he began to focus on you, rather than his homework.

It took him a month to build up the balls to ask you out. You’d said yes, and your very first date was dinner and a planetarium show. Much more romantic than a movie, you’d said when he asked if it was lame.

And now here you were, about to eat lunch here after being together for two and a half years. There you are, ordering him a Hokkaido bubble tea and red bean toast, the two things you spent weeks writing down his order for. Before he’s even pulled out his wallet, you’ve paid, and he’s barely able to scold you for not letting him pay because you sit him down.

“That painting was really something else, huh?” He nods, gazing into your eyes.

“Don’t stare, you’re making me self-conscious.” “Shush, let me admire my beautiful girlfriend.” Since you’re in public, the most you can do without getting looks is hold hands, which you do even when the bubble teas and pastries are set down in front of you. His thumb gently strokes the band on your finger.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as you walk into the aquarium. He doesn’t let go as you walk past the giant tank, staring at the colorful fish and little crustaceans. He doesn’t let go when you ask the kind older woman to take a picture of you two in the shark’s mouth, and he most certainly doesn’t let go as you gently stroke the bamboo shark’s back in the touch tank.

Neither of you want to leave, but he knows that his friends will be coming over soon and you’ll want to have the cake and stuff ready. So before you leave, he buys you an adorable stuffed shark plush from the gift store.

Once you’re home, you decide to eat a little something so that you won’t be having only cake for dinner. He sets out some leftovers; the braised eggs from yesterday morning, the cucumber salad you made a few days ago to go with the katsu bowls, and he heats up some rice and leftover chicken.

While the love of your life sets out some food, you take the cake you brought over last night out of the fridge and place it out on the table. It’s simple, swirled with purple and blue with macarons on top. You also bought a 23 candle, a little golden one. 

It’s perfect.

You eat quickly, only having a little bit but enough to satisfy your stomach. Before you two know it, there’s a knock at the door.

The only person who’d knock, it’s Tsukishima. He may be a sarcastic little shit, but he’s tolerable compared to the other people coming over tonight.

“Good evening, y/n-san.” “Hey, Tsukki-kun. Come on it, it’s chilly outside.” In a little bit, Kuroo and Kenma show up. Then come Yukie and Kaori, Komi and Konoha, and of course the ace himself.

“HEY HEY HEY! HOW’S THE BIRTHDAY BOY DOIN’?!”

You smile at Yukie and Kaori, shaking your heads at the tall man who’s currently hugging your boyfriend so tightly you think he might burst.

“I’m doing well, Bokuto-san. Would you mind putting me down?” “Sure thing, birthday buddy! n/n been takin’ care of you today?” “I’m sure she has, in quite a few ways,” snickers Kuroo, and Bokuto guffaws as Kenma elbows the rooster-headed asshole.

“Don’t be crude.” scolds Kenma as he scrolls through his phone. You assume that Kuroo made him leave his switch at home.

Two hours into the evening and a bottle of champagne later and the cake is almost gone. Yukie and Bokuto are having an arm wrestling contest on the coffee table with Tsukki as the referee, Kaori is passed out on the couch, Komi and Konoha are giggling like second graders for no reason, and Kenma is crying into Kuroo’s shirt about his village and how he needs to get back to the island, that shit ain’t gonna build itself. Keiji is sitting beside you, his head buried in your shoulder.

“You tired, baby?” He nods, his hand gently rubbing your thigh.

“Okay, I’ll call a cab for these idiots. Sit tight.” You stand to go grab your phone, and before you know it the living room is clear of the eight stooges. Keiji walks up behind you, his face slightly flushed, and wraps his arms around you. You can tell he’s a bit tipsy, but he’s not falling over or anything.

“Baby, go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. I’ll clean up in here.” “I can help, love-” “No. I’ll only be a minute. The birthday boy still has one more gift to open.”

With that, you unlatch him from you and go to clean up the glasses and plates. It was nice to catch up with everybody, especially the girls. There were only ten of you, but it was nice to have company for the first time in a while.

You set the leftover cake into the fridge before going into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and you can feel a pair of eyes on you as you wash up and change into one of his shirts.

“Come here, love.”

“In a second.”

“You’re spending the night, right?”

“Of course, baby. I’m yours for the night.”

“You’re too good to me.” “You’re one to talk, prince charming.” He smiles and takes you into his arms. The kiss he pulls you into is just as dizzying and passionate as all of his kisses, but just a bit more fervent. He’s excited, and so are you. 

He pulls away to take your hand, his favorite place to press gentle kisses to. His lips brush over the little band for what feels like the millionth time today, and you remember the promise that the ring means. So does he, and he can’t wait to replace it with a diamond one.

He kisses you again, and you melt into it. He’s so gentle, impossibly so, but despite the gentleness he’s still trapping you there. But trapped against him as he presses a kiss to your forehead and holds your hand in his isn’t such a bad place to be.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispers into your hair. “Mm, how much?” “To the sunflower fields and back.”

(a/n - the “silver band” is supposed to be a promise ring. I’ve always thought that he’d be the kind of guy who would buy you a promise ring.)

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter one: double deuces

chapter one of book three, of course ;)

"tell me a story (will ya, will ya) a real good story (I won't leave till ya) spill your guts old man; leave out any secrets, hiding in the... any skeletons, and all your other sins any skeletons, in the closet! any skeletons, any misfortunes any skeletons, hiding in the closet! any skeletons, any skeletons in the closet!"

“Happy birthday, my dear friend.”

Aurora had taken Sam out to that Vietnamese restaurant for lunch on her birthday. Twenty two years old and she could feel the very essence of age over her head. In New York for two years and it all felt like a blur and the clear real thing all at the same time. In a year's time, she would be on the brink of her mid twenties: it all felt so ephemeral and so quick at the same time. It felt so odd to think that not even four years ago she was still in high school and she had gone into a strange brand new place in the meantime.

Four years felt like a lifetime ago, especially since she looked on at her black hair and she swore it was growing lighter over her temples. It could have just been the reflection of the glass in the mirror for all she knew, but when she went to brush her hair, she swore there were some light tendrils near the crown. As long as it didn't turn into a striking pearly white silver color, she knew she would be fine.

Aurora raised her white china tea cup for a toast to her. The soft aroma of the green tea comforted her, and she followed suit with her own cup.

Ever since she and Emile had gotten together, and ever since she had gotten that dress for Kirk's wedding the next weekend, Aurora had been dressing up more nicely: at the moment, she had a rich deep purple velvet sweater wrapped around her body and a little red rose tucked behind her ear. Despite the bitter New York cold, she started wearing more floral print tights to go with her skirts; Sam had to take a second look at her face to make out the sight of the black eye liner about the smooth edges of her eyes.

Sam herself meanwhile found herself drawn more to black—Aurora said it was because of her hanging out with Testament the past couple of weekends as well as Joey on certain days after school.

“I think it could also be because I'm in the arts,” she told her the day before. “Marla wears a bunch of black and Belinda has been wearing a lot of it, too.”

“Hangin' around the arts and hangin' out with a bunch of heavy metal dudes,” Aurora chuckled.

The art scene seemed so far away from her given she was a student and she even began to struggle with classes in recent days. Indeed, the thought of forfeiting college itself to live down in the real bohemian side of New York City was more tempting than ever to her. But she had nestled in the Bronx, three floors over Frank and down the block from Charlie and Marla. It was either pick up and go live alone in another part of town or stay there and continue to do what felt like spinning her wheels day in, day out. Sam tried to not let her thoughts cast a shadow on her own birthday, but she couldn't help but look at her own reflection in her tea cup and frown.

“Maybe it's all the doing stuff after school that's getting to you,” Aurora told her. “We haven't really seen Marla in the past few weeks.”

“No, we haven't,” Sam confessed as she gazed out the window at the snow drifts along the sidewalk.

“Well, if it's any comfort, I've been getting antsy myself,” Aurora said. “Emile wants me to move in with him but it's gonna be hard to do it especially if it's just him who's helping me with the move.”

“And you're going from Long Island up to the Bronx, too,” Sam added, “it was bad enough for me to get my bed up the stairs in that building.”

“It was tricky for me, too,” Aurora continued. “And you and I also moved across country, too.”

“And how—from around the same area, no less. Well, San Diego is way further south in comparison to Lake Elsinore, but it's near the same range, though.”

“It's all within range of L.A., that's for sure. L.A. and Riverside.”

“Hey, if Greg, Eric, and Louie can talk nonsense while they're in the studio, we can, too,” Sam pointed.

“Makes sense—Southern California exiles, the both of us.” Aurora raised her cup again to her and they clinked them together before they took a sip in unison.

“When's your birthday, by the way?” Sam asked her as she held her cup close to her mouth. “I can't remember if you told me or not.”

“May twenty ninth.”

“Oh, I see. I kept thinking it was in October for some reason.”

Aurora chuckled at that. “Well, I haven't really made it much of a point because my parents always treated birthdays different in comparison to that of American culture. I always wanted an American style birthday party growing up in San Diego but that's probably the one thing they brought over from the Korean peninsula is the way birthdays are treated.”

“And how's that?”

“When we reach a certain age, they have different celebrations for them. Like your first birthday is 'dol' or three hundred sixty five days since you were born, and that came from the fact Korea didn't have as good of protection on their newborns as we do here: so when you made it to your first birthday, it was significant. The family says a prayer for the kid and then they eat rice, seaweed soup, and rice cakes—my mom has a photo of me from my 'dol', I'll have to show it to you if and when we go out to San Diego together. They have cake and candles just like Americans, but the cake is far different—it's a lot more savory than it is sweet. And on New Year's, they eat a soup so they can finish up the age they are for the certain year. So you're actually considerably older on the peninsula than you are here. If you're ten years old, in Korea, you're considered eleven or twelve.”

“Wow.”

“And when you reach fifteen years of age, and you're female, you're considered an adult. That said, I'm glad I'm a born American because I can't imagine coming to New York City as a fifteen year old.”

“I can,” Sam said.

“You can?”

“As a boy.” She thought about Alex right then.

“Now, boys have to wait 'til they're twenty before they're considered adults.”

“So Alex would still be considered a boy right now?” she asked her. “Being eighteen?”

“Yes!” Aurora then burst out laughing and clapped her hands at that. “Oh, god, I just pictured him in the traditional horse hair hat that boys have to wear on their twentieth birthday, and I also just pictured him picking up a giant rock and lifting it over his head, too.”

“How giant are we talking, exactly?”

“One that dwarfs his entire body.” Aurora raised an eyebrow at that.

“I dunno, Aurora,” Sam confessed with a shake of her head, “—he's pretty thin but he's also got that little bit of baby fat left on him. He looks pretty soft.”

“Bet you he's way stronger than he looks.”

“Joey is,” Sam continued as she brought her cup back up to her lips.

“Joey is!”

“Mr. Hockey Player—yeah, that boy's tougher than nails.”

“Well—we are going to be in the Bay Area next weekend,” Aurora pointed out. “A whole weekend of doing stuff while Kirk and—Rebecca, I think is his fiancée's name?—while they're getting married. We all can just hang out and be a bunch of genuine friends together for a couple of days.”

Sam squinted her eyes at that.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked her in a low voice.

“You'll see. And maybe Exodus and Death Angel will want in on the fun, too. Fun with the 'little four'.” She flashed Sam a wink as she sipped from her tea once again. Right then, the sole waitress in the restaurant showed up at their table with their bowls of pho: chicken for Sam, vegetarian for Aurora. One more toast and they both dipped into their bowls of fresh hot soup.

At least that night she was to have cupcakes courtesy of Marla, forty dollars courtesy of Belinda, and a jovial phone call from her parents that night. Nothing more, nothing less, but at the same time, she wished for more and she knew that her flight back out to California that next Friday was the start of something for her. Something big and grand, like that next weekend in the Bay Area. It would take place on a day that wasn't her birthday, but it would be something.

Since it was Wednesday, after lunch, she headed back to school for the rest of the day and then back to her place in the Bronx. She stepped in through the front door: the first thing she noticed was the vase of yellow tulips on the table. They had lasted so long, and for so long in the heart of the first winter following Cliff's passing, but she noticed the wilt as it began to settle in on the yellow petals.

She would keep them there on the table until the pure yellow color vanished and they lost their smell, much like with the black hat Cliff had given her.

Sam took her seat on the couch with her drawing pad rested upon her lap. She was an artist in New York City, and yet she lived so far from the actual art scene. The boots still on her feet and yet she had no means as to how to look for it outside of her school work. Marla and Belinda had their way, for sure, but there had to be something more. There had to be, especially since she began to put her head down and put more work into her art for her classes. The struggle still came down on her, even as she gave her fish tails more scales and her humans more of a shading around their heads. It all seemed to slip away from the in between her fingers.

Everyone seemed to be doing better: her classmates received more praise, even Belinda who, at one point, admitted that graphites were a challenge for her as well. And yet, when Sam drew a self portrait surrounded by roses and water lilies, one of the comments Miss Estes left for her on the back side of the heavy grained paper was “lots of effort.”

She was eager for the flight out to the Bay Area by the time that early Friday morning rolled around, and she and Zelda were seated next to each other. She had packed that copy of Siddhartha with her but she had no idea as to when she would get to crack it open over the weekend.

Zelda had put on a plain white T shirt and fitted black jeans, and she had combed her short bob of black hair back for the flight. Apparently all she had packed with her were white shirts and black jeans.

“Don't you wanna look nice like at Cliff's memorial?” Sam asked her with a chuckle.

“I've got some suspenders and a tie to go with them,” Zelda replied. “It's a wedding for a friend of ours, and he said that we can wear whatever we like. So I told him that I'm gonna be full punk chick there. I'm guessing you'll be the artist?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, “the full black, baby.”

Zelda raised a hand to her for a high five and the light for the seat belts flickered on right then.

“I'll tell you this, Zelda,” Sam began.

“What's that?”

She peered over her shoulder to make sure Marla and Charlie paid no attention to them, given they were right across the aisle from them. Sam then gestured for Zelda to move in closer to her: beyond her and outside the window, she noticed the first few flurries of snow against the pane. She hoped they would take off soon.

“I'm getting kind of bored of New York,” she whispered to her.

“Really?” Zelda raised her eyebrows at her.

“Yeah. It's just—falling into the whole 'same old, same old' thing. I'm an artist, I should be able to go places with it all.”

“Absolutely, absolutely.”

“And I just—” Sam shook her head. “It's a great big city but I feel like there's nothing for me there anymore. Two years there and I'm not feeling it anymore. I'm glad we're going back out to the Bay Area for just this one weekend because I feel myself slowly going insane.”

“And why are you telling me this in a whisper?” Zelda asked her in a soft voice.

“Because—I don't know how to break it to Marla yet, or Belinda for that matter. Aurora kind of knows, but not in that sense, though. I made note of it to her but she didn't really suggest anything to me.”

“You can come to Providence,” Zelda suggested, “there's tons to do in Providence. Narragansett and Natick, too.”

“I guess what I'm trying to say is I feel trapped. Two years ago, I came here to the Northeast for a change of pace and it feels like it's trapped me sideways. There's no way out unless I really genuinely leave. The downside of course is—leaving you ladies behind and leaving Anthrax behind.”

“Yeah, and—we kinda like you, Sam. I do, especially. And I know Aurora does, too. And Marla.”

“Aurora is one of my best friends. Her and Frankie. They're my best friends. I don't know how I would handle leaving them both behind for a change of pace. I feel me and Marla drifting, if I'm honest. Can't really blame her, though—school's getting hard on her.”

“Well—whatever you do, Sam,” Zelda started again, “I'll support you on it. If nothing, you'll get the full support from me.”

“Thank you, Zelda. That—that means a lot to me.” Sam showed her a friendly smile.

Zelda shrugged. “I'm from Rhode Island,” she replied. “Moreover, I'm a punk rocker from Rhode Island. We look out for each other more so than these metal boys.”

They touched down in the Bay Area at five in the morning, and right as the sun began to rise right behind them. The thick fog surrounded the airport and Sam thought about the one and only Christmas she and Cliff spent together.

“Looks like San Francisco,” she muttered. “Feels like it, too.” She closed her eyes as they rolled up to the gate. She and Zelda stepped out of the airport first and she breathed in that marine air. She swore that New York was in fact her one true home, but there was just something about California that brought her more so into that feeling. That feeling that she needed to be there. All the fleeting thoughts led up to that moment there on the sidewalk.

Cliff's remains were not very far away from there, either.

She, Zelda, Marla, Aurora, and Belinda all stood at the curb as Charlie and Emile fetched their rental cars. All those men awaited them not too far from there, and Sam was eager to see Joey again given he flew in from Syracuse. That morning in which he and Belinda woke up before her and flirted with each other went through her mind every now and again. She never realized how much she wanted him until he put his arms around her and they locked eyes with each other. She needed to at the very least see him again: he also promised her a birthday gift.

Within time, Emile showed up with the little black car for himself and Aurora, while Charlie rolled up to the curb in a short dark green van. The four remaining girls piled inside away from the damp cold; Sam wanted to refer to him and Marla in the front seat as “Mom and Dad” again but she decided not to as she shivered under her jacket.

It wasn't New York, but Sam had forgotten how cold San Francisco could feel once the winter time set in.

“Okay, so we're going to a place called Marin Heights,” Charlie told them. “I think that's where the guys—Metallica—got the loft for us.”

“I've heard of it,” said Belinda from the middle seat.

“Me, too,” Sam added from the way back; Zelda huddled next to her and shook her head about. Sam had no idea as to why she didn't bring a jacket with her given it was winter in California. But instead, she peered out the small notch of a window to the Bay itself. She remembered that Testament were to film a music video out in Alcatraz, and those cold yellow lights from the island itself pierced through the foggy darkness. She wondered if they had finally wrapped up the recording of their first album since she wasn't able to sit in with them over the past couple of weeks because of school. She also wondered if she would receive any credit on it like with Stormtroopers of Death.

Charlie wound through the city until they reached the freeway, which in turn brought them up to Marin Heights, nestled back in the hills on the north side of town: they reached a switch back on the hillside so Sam was able to see the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge as it rose through the fog. The clouds themselves split apart so as to let the first rays of sunlight through and the metal of the bridge shone that bright amber color with the sunrise.

No wonder Cliff loved it there.

She sighed through her nose and turned her attention back to the road ahead of her as it turned away into the hills. Within time, they reached the top, and a small villa of little brick two story houses nestled back in the trees. She wondered if the wedding was going to be there as Charlie pulled up to the gravel driveway and stopped before the one closest to the street.

“I think this is us,” he informed them. “Or it might just be check in, I dunno.” He climbed out and then Sam and Zelda followed suit. The latter raised her lanky arms over her head and closed her eyes. Meanwhile, the former spotted a tall lanky boy with long black hair perched on a stone post on the other side of the driveway. He faced the other way but she knew those rich jet black curls anywhere.

“Joey?” she called out.

“Hm?” Zelda asked.

“Joey's over there.”

Zelda peeked around the rear end of the van and she nodded at her.

“Yeah, he is! Go get 'em!”

Sam then ducked around the end of the van and hurried over to him.

“Joey!” she called out. “Joey!”

He turned to face her with his eyebrows raised. He had lost a little weight so his waist was rather slim like Joey's, and the black hair dye held up, but she knew those deep eyes anywhere.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted him as she skidded to a stop before him.

“Hi,” Alex replied back to her with a thoughtful look on his face. “What's happening?”

“I thought you were Joey for a second.”

“You thought I was Joey?” he laughed at that.

“You have similar hair to each other.”

“His has more of a pile, though. Like right on top of his head. That big pile of ringlets atop his head.” He gestured to the crown of his head. “Even though I'm sitting down, I think he's a little bit shorter than me, too?”

“I think so?” Sam shifted her weight right there. Stray strands of his black hair lifted off of his shoulders in the wind and he ran his hand over the back of his head. He shivered from the feeling over his skin.

“God, it's cold out here,” he muttered as he adjusted his jacket.

“Yeah, it's pretty nippy. Not New York, but it's that California cold, though.”

“You know, both my parents are from New York,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Both obscenely smart Ivy League professors. They came out here before I was born to teach over at Berkeley.”

“Is that why you had the gray streak?” she asked him.

“Nah, I have no idea where that came from.” He shifted his weight yet again on that post. He seemed uncomfortable sitting there but Sam had no idea where to go right then. Charlie's voice behind her caught her ear and she peered over her shoulder at his talking to James.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Alex told her as he shifted his weight a fourth time. “Aurora told the five of us last week that it was her assistant's birthday and she didn't know what to get you.”

“Aw, thank you—it was back on the twenty first, though.”

“Happy belated,” he corrected himself, and she swore he winked at her. Someone called his name and he looked off to the distance.

“Hang on—” he said, and he darted past her towards Charlie.

“Sam?” Zelda called out to her, and she jogged back to her. Aurora had climbed out of Emile's car right next to them and she shivered inside of her windbreaker.

“What's up?”

“Apparently the wedding is today,” Aurora announced.

“Today?” Sam was stunned.

“Yeah. Three o'clock. I guess Kirk's lady couldn't wait for it a second longer so they're doing it today.”

“So we get a full weekend of good ol' fun,” Zelda added as she clasped her hands to her upper arms.

“Exactly!”

Sam turned her attention to Alex, who was talking to Charlie about something. His black hair twirled in the cold winter winds. Even from a distance, he had such a grave expression on his face that it made Sam think he was much older than in reality.

Belinda had the right idea: he was very precocious. But now she had a little bit of insight into the boy in that he was raised by intelligent parents. It was a start with Alex and she could only wonder from that point onward.

Aurora and Emile led her, Zelda, and Belinda into the cabin behind Charlie and Alex, and once they stepped inside of the cozy foyer, Zelda was eager to turn on the heater.

“Terrible idea not to pack a coat,” she muttered as she hurried down the front foyer in search of the thermostat, “terrible idea not to pack a coat!”

Sam and Belinda meanwhile took to the narrow stairwell in front of them, and they made their way up to that second level: to the right stood a couple of rooms, while to the left was the bathroom and two more rooms. The door at the far end stood slightly ajar, such that when they reached the top, they spotted that head of black curls outside the doorway.

“Hey, Joey,” Belinda greeted him. That lopsided grin and those big brown eyes returned the favor, and Sam's heart skipped a couple of beats at the sight of him. He didn't appear to be ready for a wedding at all with his plain white shirt, extra tight blue jeans, and ragged white socks.

“There are my girls,” he said as he padded closer to them.

“Oh deary me, you're gonna be down the hall from us?” Sam teased him.

“Yup, me, Frankie, and Charlie and Marla. We're gonna be all here at the end of the hall if you need anything.”

“You know the wedding is today right?” Belinda told him.

“Oh, shit, is it really?” Joey raised his eyebrows at that.

“Yeah, Aurora just told us,” Sam added, and her heart sank at the thought of him barely being in the know of these things. “Three o'clock. So Bel and I are gonna get settled in and get dressed.”

“Oh, damn, thank you,” he told her, and his brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her. Cold as the earth and as engulfing as venom. He doubled back to his room and Sam pushed open the door in front of her. Inside stood a small bunk bed and a heavy wooden dresser underneath the window.

“Top or bottom?” she asked Belinda.

“You're older and got way more inside, so top,” she replied as she lay her purse down on the faded blue comforter upon the bottom bed. Even though they had plenty of time before the wedding, Sam wanted to clean up, and change her clothes and look her best. She hadn't been to a wedding in what felt like forever: there was one from when she was three years old, but she had no memory of it and she had no clue as to who even got eloped then, either.

Belinda offered to curl her hair and do it up extra nice, but she promised her there was very little to actually do up given her hair sat flat on her head. If only she could make curls into a crown like with Joey, but she had what she had in the form of a red wine colored dress and a thin black sweater over the top: the dress was a bit snug around her hips but she need not obsess over something as trivial as that when she remembered what Joey wanted to give her.

She was about to head on back inside of their room when she spotted him on the other side of the hallway with the five men from Death Angel, if she recalled correctly. Once again with the quintets and she would learn all of their names in the meantime. But he had a box wrapped in old faded red wrapping paper tucked under his arm and she hoped it wasn't just a wedding gift, especially since he still hadn't gotten dressed.

He laughed at something one of them said and he turned around.

“Oh, there you are!” he called out to her, and he scurried towards her. The tape on the edges of the box and the crooked look of the paper itself told her he wrapped it in a hurry, but she didn't mind at all once she slid her fingers under the edge of the paper closest to her. Careful not to tear it, she unwrapped it and lifted the lid. Inside was a pair of black leather gloves and a red and white knit scarf, the latter of which she ran her fingers over to find it softer than anything she had felt before. It was as soft as a cat.

“It's your own pair of gloves plus a scarf,” he declared. “I just think about how cold you always get upstate.” He shrugged at that.

“I love it, Joey! It's so soft.”

“It's cashmere.”

Sam gaped at him. “Cashmere,” she echoed him.

“Yeah—it was marked down, though. But it's cashmere. I wanted to give you something nice and good and good and nice.”

She slipped the gloves on and they fit around her fingers as if they were made for her. Joey offered to put the scarf around her neck; he stood before her, a country boy in a plain white shirt before a California girl in a dark red dress, and he wrapped the scarf around her.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered to her. “Happy birthday. Double deuces as of ten days ago!”

“Thank you—” She put her arms around him and she held him close. His slender little body was as soft as that scarf, and he smelled of fresh baked bread, something she would be willing to experience as long as he didn't have a drop of alcohol on hand.

Maybe there was in fact something more to life than being in that groove all the time. Maybe she could find a way to break out of her shell, and she could owe it all to him.

And she still hadn't told her parents about him.

[misc-headcanons]

First of all, I love you. 😍 Second, congrats on the followers! Third, puh-lease NSFW Law & female s/o after a night out with the Hearts & Strawhats? Pleeeease!

(First of all, I love you too! Second, thank youuu

The two crews had decided to celebrate their new alliance together on Zou with a party to celebrate, but…Law wasn’t really the partying type. That didn’t stop him from getting dragged to Luffy’s table by Zoro, who handed him a bottle of sake and told him that Luffy wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to having fun with Torao. “Can I at least sit next to someone less…loud?” He was currently sandwiched between Usopp and Luffy at the banquet table, and he could already tell that his ears would be ringing by the end of the night. A familiar voice behind him laughed softly, and he turned around to see ____ smirking at him with a glass of rice wine in her hand. 

“Mind if I squeeze in?” Luffy immediately scooted to the right to let her sit next to Law, and she squeezed Law’s hand under the table. “If you want, I can pretend to get sick so we can go back to the ship early,” she murmured. “Still, we should stay for a little while, just to be polite…They are our allies.”

Law took a gulp of sake and nodded. “I just want to stay long enough to eat some of their Ero-Cook’s beef stew and then go,” he replied, squeezing her hand back. When she looked at him quizzically, he shrugged. “I had it in Punk Hazard and I liked it,” he replied nonchalantly. “The guy’s weird when it comes to women, but he’s still a good chef.”

____ leaned closer to Law and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Promise to keep me safe from that Ero Cook, then?” Her tone was playful, and she brushed a few fingers against his upper arm. 

Law let out a small chuckle and reached for two bowls of stew and some spoons. “If he starts to get a nosebleed after looking at you, just let me know,” he replied with a small smile. 

The two of them ate and drank together, and by the time their bowls were empty, so were their glasses. Law’s cheeks were the subtlest shade of pink, and he was smiling more often than he usually did around Luffy and his crew. He also had an arm around ____’s waist, and every so often his hand would wander lower and lower towards her thighs. When he pulled her closer to him and nuzzled her cheek, she laughed at how his goatee tickled her skin. “Only one drink and you’re already this handsy? Usually it takes way more than that for you to get like this,” she teased. Law’s hat slipped to the side a bit and he gave ____ a tipsy half smile.

“You’re looking a little inebriated yourself, you know,” he replied. “Your face feels like it’s on fire, and I can still smell the sake on your mouth.“ 

"Once we get back to our room,” she said, resting her hand on his thigh and kissing his cheek, “Maybe you can see if you can taste it too…”

Law immediately felt his face get warmer, and felt his pants tighten around his waist. He quickly stood up and grabbed ____’s hand. Luffy swallowed the giant bite of mutton he was currently devouring and looked back at the two of them while they stumbled away from the party. “Oi, Torao,” he called out, “Where’re you going?”

Law called back to him. “____-ya’s ship, I gotta take her back to the sick,” he called back. He blinked and frowned when he realized his slip-up. “Shit. I mean, she’s sick. Gotta check up in her–on her. Gotta check up on her.”

____ snorted and the two of them made their way back to where the Polar Tang was docked. Once they made their way to the main hallway, ____ couldn’t control herself until they’d made it to their shared bedroom; she pinned Law to the wall and feverishly kissed him, giggling whenever he responded by squeezing her ass and biting her bottom lip. When the two of them pulled away to catch their breath, Law held out his arms and ____ frowned in confusion. “What’re you–”

“Shambles.”

Suddenly, ____ found herself in his arms and Law made his way to the bedroom before he just decided to take her in the middle of the hallway. Thankfully the door to his room was only a few feet down the hall, and after slamming the door shut with his leg he tossed her onto the bed; she landed on the mattress with a squeal and felt the mattress bounce underneath her. Law tossed his hat onto his desk and pulled his clothes off, and ____ hastily did the same. Their clothes and undergarments littered the floor, and Law climbed on top of her before letting his mouth wander from her neck, to her breasts, and finally to her thighs. 

Before ____ could beg for Law to go lower, she moaned his name as he buried his tongue in her cunt. “Fuuuuck, Law,” she whined, rolling her hips and running one of her hands through his messy black hair. He looked up at her, smirking at her as her chest rose up and down from her having breaths. 

His voice was muffled slightly when he took a short break from eating her delectable cunt, nipping and kissing her thighs. “You always look so pretty like this,” he breathed, slowly circling her clit with one of his fingers and grinning when she whined desperately for him to go faster. “All spread out for me. God, you’re already so wet…”

He held out his other hand and used his Devil Fruit to retrieve his hat, and ____ smiled impishly when she saw that he was holding it; seeing her wearing his clothes always drove him wild, and she knew why he’d grabbed it. She moved her hands down to snatch it from him and set it on her head with a cocky grin. “Thanks for the hat, captain,” she drawled, subtly rocking her hips and playing with one of her breasts. “Tell me…do I still look pretty?”

Law chuckled as he groped her thighs before spreading them apart and diving back down between her legs. “You’ll look even prettier when I make you cum,” he said in a low voice. He smiled to himself and glanced up at her for a moment. “Say ‘ah.’”

____ raised an eyebrow. “What?" 

Law swiftly flicked his tongue around her sensitive bud without warning, and he felt her entrance clench and squeeze around nothing from the sudden stimulation. ”Ah~!“ She heard Law laugh again, and the slight vibration of her voice made her shiver. She rolled her eyes and let one of her hands rest on the back of his head after giving him a light smack. "You are such a dork sometimes,” she sighed with a smile.

Law moved his mouth off of her clit with a wet pop and kissed the inside of her thighs while his fingers continued to play with her stiff bundle of nerves. “Love you too, ____,” he replied sarcastically. 

____ cocked her head and bucked her hips as Law circled her clitoris at the perfect pace that left her seeing stars. “Mmm, n-no ’-ya’ this time? Guess we–fuck–guess we really are close…" 

"Can’t get much closer to you than this,” he murmured, using his other hand to pump a few fingers into her entrance. She arched her back and threw her hips forward, feeling the pressure inside of her building more and more. She pinched and rolled her nipples in between her fingers, and Law could tell she was about to cum by the way her moans and sighs were getting higher and higher in pitch. The second he saw her toes beginning to curl, he immediately removed his hand from inside her and she let out a frustrated growl. 

“Law, quit being such a fucking teaaaaase,” she begged. Law crawled on top of her and immediately quelled her frustrations when he lined his stiff cock up with her entrance. Her face burned with excitement and arousal when she saw his glistening fingers curl around his shaft, coating his member with her slick juices. She reached up to cradle the back of his neck, and Law sloppily kissed her neck before entering her with one thrust. 

Their usual slow and sensual form of intimacy was thrown to the wayside as the two of them writhed against each other at a passionate and rough pace. The lingering scent of sake combined with their sweat, and whenever ____ kissed Law, she could taste her own arousal on his tongue as well. “Law, fuck, yes,” she moaned, moving one of her legs up so he could hit every deep spot inside of her. He hiked her leg up around his waist and pounded even harder into her, and the heat radiating from their bodies left him feeling dizzy (though that might have been the remnants of his buzz…). He felt her gummy insides constrict around his cock, and the two of them moaned in unison as they rode out their climax.

Law’s cock twitched once…twice…three times inside of her as he came, flooding her with his cum while she milked him for all he was worth. He looked down at her while her eyes were still rolled up, clearly enjoying the lingering aftershocks of her orgasm. There really was nothing prettier than her when she came… 

He sighed contentedly and gave her one more kiss on her collarbone before slowly pulling himself out of her. The two of them lay face-up, with their arms and legs entangled with one another as they panted and felt their eyes starting to close.

“What a…great party,” ____ breathed, turning her head to the side to smile at Law with her eyes half-closed. “Hope everyone else had as much fun as us.”

He looked back at her and tucked away a stray piece of hair that was stuck to the side of her face, and caressed her cheek before his eyes slowly shut. “Heh, I doubt it…”