#however it pops up in my mind whenever I think about mm cause it’s like- I still like it but it’s tainted

[no1ryomafan]

I’m only putting this here despite most of my tumblr following being out of the loop-for the better-about this but I said on Twitter I wouldn’t mention it a lot or at all anymore but often times I think about how despite the fact I’ve rebranded to a old anime/mecha account I can’t escape mega man being mentioned not just cause of mm LITERALLY being inspired off that stuff but because it’s so easy to trace my digital footprint back to “oh it’s that get bent person” and that will curse me for the rest of my time online

[hansolmates]

shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests​

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series  let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.” 

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not. 

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had. 

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good. 

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin. 

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.” 

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up. 

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.   

“Know what?” 

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”  

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around. 

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings.  Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become. 

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly. 

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him. 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.  

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.” 

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university. 

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting. 

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.” 

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.” 

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you. 

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?” 

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information. 

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.” 

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist. 

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years? 

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.  

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.” 

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits. 

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away. 

“P-please, Jungkook…” 

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?” 

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected. 

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come. 

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed. 

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year. 

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew. 

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore. 

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world. 

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.” 

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder. 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Blood Hungry: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

“His name's Eddy Mays and he’s twenty-one-years-old,” Sheriff Halls says.

Eddy is sitting inside the cell looking dazed and wild. All you can feel is the insanity coming off of him and see the angry red energy pouring out of every pore. He’s not well, but you think you can get through to him if you really try. This kind of person needs to be handled with delicacy, and you’re the only one who can do that.

“Wait, Mays?” you ask.

“Do you know him?” Hotch asks.

“Yeah. I just can't believe a boy like Eddy would do something like this. He was the nicest kid you ever saw.”

“He's mentally ill, sheriff. A boy like Eddy could truly use an insanity plea in a court of law,” Spencer says.

“You know, the ironic thing about psychotic illness is generally they're less violent than the rest of the population. But by the nature of psychotic delusions, when they do get violent…” you trail off.

“We're never gonna get anywhere with him. Not like this. Look at the guy. You can't read him is rights. You can't even process him,” Derek points out.

“I better call his mother. It's a damn shame. His daddy died just a couple years ago. This is gonna fall awful hard on her,” Sheriff Halls sighs.

“What's the family like?” Hotch asks.

“His dad was a doctor and Mary Gwathmey Mays comes from one of the oldest families in Tennessee.”

“I'd like to meet her.”

“We already have,” you say and look at Elle who just nods.

“Good get her,” Hotch says and leaves the group.

“I can probably get through to him. He needs to be handed with care, and I’m the only one who can connect to his insanity,” you whisper to Derek.

“Tell Hotch that,” he whispers back.

You push yourself off the walls of the cell and head over to Hotch who situates himself in front of a computer that has a webcam. He’s going to call Penelope to see what kind of dirt she could dig up on Eddy and his family.

“Hey, Hotch, I think you should let me talk to this guy. I’m the only one who can see what’s going on inside his mind. I might be able to relate to him more.”

“Fine, you’re the lead with this one,” he nods and clicks on the invitation for the video chat sent by Penelope.

“Hey, Garcia. Talk to me,” Hotch says once her face pops up.

“So, I got a hold of Eddy's roommate in college who describes Eddy as having an overprotective mom,” she begins.

“How overprotective?” you wonder.

“She called him, like, three times a day. And get this, one time she went up to Boston to break him up with a girlfriend she didn't like.”

“Wow,” you and Hotch scoff.

“Yeah. It seems like Eddy's entire college experience was some sort of post-adolescent rebellion. He partied like an eighties clubber. He suffered a delusional break due to methamphetamine and rock cocaine consumption.”

“Wow, that is partying like an eighties clubber,” Hotch grins.

“That basically describes my older sister’s life to the T,” you shudder at the memory.

“Right. So then, uh, he was admitted to a mental health facility in Boston. He checked himself out a week ago and then found his way home.”

“What was his major?” you ask.

“Comparative religion.”

“Appropriate,” you comment.

“Thanks. Um, how is it having Gideon around?”

“Uh, you can have him back whenever you'd like,” she says.

She tries to hide her annoyance, but you know it’s there. Hotch only laughs and says his goodbyes before ending the video chat.

“If we’re going to get anything out of him, he’ll need to be medicated. I can tell you right now I won’t be able to get anything in his state of mind. His energy is spiking everywhere.”

“Then call a doctor. Get him sedated.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod and head off to call a doctor.

While you did that, JJ and Hotch talked with Eddy’s mother to see if they can get anything out of her before it’s time to talk with her son. You didn’t go with them because you wanted to observe Eddy for a while to get a feel of how you’re going to approach him. It’s weird to say, but the crazier they are, the more you connect with them. Not everyone can see it, but the crazy ones leave themselves wide open for people like you to come in and read them like an open book. The more lucid a person is, the more they have control over their conscious mind. They are able to control how closed off they seem to other people. “Crazy” people don’t get that choice, so it’s an open invitation to people like you.

In all your years of doing this, you have never met another person who could do the things you can do. Maybe… no, you can’t think about her in a time like this. In fact, you’ve locked everything that has to do with her inside a steel room. You refuse to think about her.

Mary Mays needs to stay at the station while you talk with her son, so she’s waiting in one of the comfortable waiting rooms. The doctor just gave Eddy everything he needs in order to answer some questions even though that’s not why she gave him the medicine in the first place.

She exits the holding cells and walks over to you and Hotch who are waiting for her.

“I've administered the haloperidol to Mr. Mays.”

“How long until it takes effect?” Hotch asks.

“It's coming on now with the full effect in about fifteen minutes or so. You have to realize that while the drug will make him appear to be asymptomatic it will not necessarily remove his delusional state.”

“Will it make him more lucid?” you wonder.

“Possibly. But let me make this clear. I gave him the shot because he needed to be medicated, not so you could agitate him by putting him through an interrogation. That boy needs to be hospitalized.”

“Well, a jury might agree with you, but right now he needs to answer some questions 'cause there's a little boy we need to find. Thank you,” Hotch nods and heads into the holding cells.

You, Hotch, and Spencer approach Eddy, and your boss gives you the okay to begin questioning him. Both agents will be lingering in the background just in case help is needed, but this one is all on you. Eddy is sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest and his fingernails in his mouth. The medicine did help, but not by much. You carefully take a seat on the bed and stare at the man who couldn’t look at you.

“Hi, Eddy,” you say gently. “Do you know where you are?”

He shakes his head and stares at the ceiling, but he answers correctly.

“Jail.”

“That's right. Do you know why?”

“I was very bad. Before, I was very bad. But I'm... I'm much better now, much... much better,” he stutters.

“Eddy, do you remember hurting anyone?” you ask, and all he could do is stare at you. You don’t know why it was at this question that he can look at you, but you know he won’t answer it. You decide to go in a different direction. “Where did you go to college, Eddy?”

“Mm, Boston,” he smiles.

“Did you like Boston?”

“Mm-mmm. No. I don't know,” he stutters and bites his nails some more.

“What was your favorite thing about Boston, Eddy?”

“Harvard time square, I had cappuccino,” he smiles at the memory.

You nod and look at Spencer, and he hands you the picture of Wally. You take it and show Eddy the picture of the happy young boy whose life depends solely on you.

“Eddy, do you remember Wally? Wally Brisbane?”

“I know the Brisbanes,” he lights up as if you gave him a present on Christmas morning.

“You took this little boy. I believe you don’t want to hurt him, but you have him somewhere.”

“No. No. I did not,” he begins to point angrily at the picture and scrunches up his face angrily, “I did not do that.”

“Eddy, I know you’re uncomfortable, okay? I wish I didn’t have to do this, but a little boy’s life depends on this. Look at your hands, Eddy. They’re cut up and you have bruises on your arms. Do you know why that is?”

“Yeah,” he whimpers painfully after looking at them.

“You killed three people, Eddy,” you sigh.

“You killed three people, Eddy,” he repeats while making eye contact with you. “You killed three people, Eddy.”

You need to get on with this because it’s going nowhere. You look at Spencer again and he hands Eddy pictures of the crime scene for each victim. Pictures you know will upset him, but it’s necessary.

“Paul Thompson. Annie Stuart. Lynette Giles,” Spencer says each of their names as he shows Eddy them.

With every picture Eddy sees, he grows more and more agitated. He clearly hates what he’s done, but it’s like his mind doesn’t want him to know he’s the one who did it. However, the sane part of him is trying to break through to tell him he’s in a lot of trouble. There are two sides fighting inside his mind, and it’s clear he doesn’t know which side to listen to.

“No! No! Stop it!” he yells at himself.

“I tried, but we're not going to get anything out of him. It’s up to his mother to help us find Wally,” you sigh and get up.

You and the other two agents leave the holding cell while Eddy yells at himself. It’s almost as if he has two personalities and both of them are coming out to respond to the other. All of this is taking place in his mind, and you kind of feel sorry for him. He wasn’t always like this, and you have a feeling his mother had something to do with it.

“We need him to tell us where that boy is,” Sheriff Hall insists when you and the two men exit the holding cell.

“Sheriff, we're not gonna get anything out of him until he gets this latest episode under control,” you shrug.

“Agent Y/L/N, it's getting cold and dark. If that Brisbane boy is anywhere outside, he won't stand a chance in hell.”

“I understand that, Sheriff, but putting too much strain on his mind will cause him to have a complete breakdown. I’m telling you right now, we will not get anything out of him because he believes he’s done nothing wrong in the first place. There are two battles going on inside his mind. The rational side and the insane one. The insane is clearly winning. His rational side came out when we showed him pictures of the victims, but it’s too small to overpower the other side.”

“How do you know this?”

Before you can answer him, Deputy Long screams at everyone to come back to Eddy. Her screams are so loud that everyone in the station hears, including his own mother. Everyone heads over to see what’s wrong because something clearly is. You waste no time rushing over to her. Eddy is trying to hang himself by the small barred widow above the toilet with the sheets that were on the bed.

His mother completely freaks out and tries to go to him, but Elle holds her back. You, Hotch, and Sheriff Hall rush inside the cell and try to help Eddy down. He’s choking and trying so hard to end his own life, but you’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen. He’s lucid enough to want to end his own life, and you know the rational side of his mind drove him to it.

Like you said, you feel so bad for him.

When you met Mary Mays, you know she was kind of sketchy to begin with, and apparently, the rest of the team thinks so as well. Hotch gave you the rundown of his interview with her earlier, and apparently, she lied to him before. She didn't even mention that her son was in a mental hospital in the first place, and when you called the hospital, they claimed that he called her to pick him up but she never came. Why would she lie about that? She’s definitely hiding something; you can feel her deceit radiating from her body.

“Why weren't you straight with us, Mrs. Mays?” Hotch asks in the safety of the waiting room.

“Straight with you?”

“You never told us your son was in a mental hospital.”

“I spoke with a doctor at a facility in Boston. He said Eddy was released a week ago and that he called you to pick him up, but that you never came,” you say.

“You asked me if I knew if he'd come home, and I didn't. I... I thought he was in Boston,” she lies again.

“There was also blood on the floor of your utility room. Do you have any explanation for that?” you cross your arms.

When Derek and Elle went to check out her house, they found blood underneath her fridge that she happened to forget to clean up. Plus, the place smelled like bleach. Weird, huh?

“Well, sometimes I cut my legs when I prune the roses.”

“You prune your roses in winter?” you ask as you take a step to her.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she becomes hostile and stands up to get in your face. “When do you prune yours?”

“Mrs. Mays, I understand that you may want to do everything you can to protect your son, but that little boy may be dying right now,” Hotch intervenes as Spencer lightly pulls you away from her.

“I would like to help you, I really would. But right now, I've got to see about my son.”

“I think it's better if you stay here,” Spencer suggests.

Every agent leaves the room to let her cool off her own head, and you shrug yourself out of his grip. Eddy was taken to a hospital immediately when the Sheriff knew he wouldn't be of any help now that he tried to kill himself.

“She's definitely lying. I don't know exactly what she's lying about, but she's lying,” Hotch determines and looks at you.

“Don’t look at me. Her mind is so closed off, I can’t get a read on her. Whatever she’s hiding, she really doesn’t want anyone to find out.”

“You don't think she'd let that boy die to save her son, do you?” JJ asks.

“I don't know.”

“She drives a Cadillac, right?” you ask, suddenly getting an idea.

“Yeah, why?” Elle wonders.

“They got a GPS system in them.”

“So…?”

“So, let’s see where she’s been. Let me tell you, technology doesn’t lie,” you chuckle and head outside to her car.

Derek, Hotch, and Elle follow you to her car, and after Hotch demanded to see her keys. She thinks you’re searching her car when really, you’re going to figure out where Wally is. You unlock the driver’s door and slide inside, and Derek slides into the passenger seat while Elle and Hotch linger by the window. After you turn the car on, you look up her search history on her GPS.

“This thing has got every stop she's made and how long she spent there,” you scoff.

“You know, these things could cause more divorces than internet porn,” Derek jokes until he sees something very interesting. “Hey, look at that. That's interesting.”

“Apparently, she stopped at the same place on route three like six times. Wally’s there. I can feel it,” you nod.

“Then let's get Mary and take her to that spot. We can tell her that we're going to visit Eddy in the hospital.”

“I’m going. You’re going to want me to come,” you declare.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

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[anntoldst0ries]

Everything else is just the weather

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count: ~5.3k (I sinned!) Summary: Ethan takes Elle out on their “first” date. Category: Fluff Warnings: None

A/N: It has literally taken me ages to finish this fic. To the point that I couldn’t look at it anymore, but here it is. I had it in mind for a really long time and now that OH is back, I feel like I’m ready to show it to the world. As always thank you for your support and I hope you like it!

This fic is part 2 of birthday present for my friend, part 1 is the fan art which you can see here. Once you read the fic, the fan art makes more sense :)

This is my submission for CFWC Silly Love Stories, Day 12: Date night.

Loud knocks resonated throughout the room. 

"Come in!"

"Good morning, Mrs. Peterson.”

“Good morning, Dr Valentine. I think you are the only doctor in this hospital with some sort of manners, everyone else just waltzes in here as if it was a damn barn!”

“Hospital or no hospital, everyone has their right to privacy.”

“Thank you, child. Once again, please call me Faye."

"Alright Faye, but only if you call me Elle.” She smiled sweetly, and the whole room seemed to be suddenly lit by a thousand suns.

“How are you feeling? Are the meds making a difference?"

"They are. I am ready to be discharged today.”

"Not so fast. I am not ready to say goodbye to you yet."

“Why would you possibly like to be lumbered with an old nuisance like me for even a second longer than necessary?”

Elle just laughed and shook her head. The ‘nuisance’, as the elderly lady so lovingly put it, was exactly what she loved about her job. She loved spending time with her patients, she loved their stories and their worldly wisdom. It made her sad to see how many of them thought they didn’t matter or considered themselves and their lives boring. To her, they were anything but. 

Many of Edenbrook’s staff members kept asking themselves: what is it about her? She was a great doctor, no two ways about it, and she was a genuinely nice person. But what was the source of power she had over people? If she woke up one day and decided to start a rebellion, patients would have most certainly followed her, even if it meant they’d be leaving the premises of the hospital with naked butts or trailing their IVs behind them. Doctors, nurses, administration, cleaners and security would follow shortly. She only had to say a word.

And how on Earth was she capable of turning Dr Ramsey, the grizzly bear of Edenbrook, into a benign teddy bear with as little as one look? It was beyond everyone’s apprehension.

Had they spent more time actually observing her, rather than gossiping in the corners, the answer would have unveiled in front of them within minutes.

It was very simple.

Noelle was truly curious about people. She genuinely liked them and was determined to get to know their story, for it helped her diagnose them faster and also satiated the young doctor’s hunger for knowledge.

Patients never felt like “curious cases” or “numbers” in her presence. They were… themselves - people with hopes, dreams, fears, pet peeves and odd habits. They were human. 

So little and yet so much.

Those never touched by serious illnesses often failed to understand that sickness strips you of your dignity and becomes your identity. Your true self becomes covered by this weird, annoying sticker that wouldn’t come off no matter how hard you tried to remove it. 

But this young woman, despite the nature of her profession, somehow managed to notice what was hiding beneath this misleading layer.

Had all these gossipers spoken to her patients, that’s exactly what they would have heard.

"What's happening today?" The older lady asked with a flick of curiosity in her wrinkle-haloed eyes.

"What do you mean, Faye?" The young doctor sounded genuinely baffled by the out-of-the-blue question.

"Well, I am no diagnostician, but I believe I am rather observant and you radiate with happiness. Something special is happening today, am I right?"

"Yeah, you are right." Elle blushed like a teenager caught in a lie. "My boyfriend is taking me on a surprise date today, but he won’t say a word about it, so I'm super excited to find out what he planned for us. He usually isn't one for romantic gestures, so the secrecy is killing me."

"Do you think he's gonna pop the big question?" Faye’s eyes lit up with excitement.

"No, we're not there...yet." Elle faked a smile, but a tone of doubt and sadness coloured her voice. They probably never will be, those things weren’t in the cards for Ethan, as he already stressed once.

But once was enough and she didn’t dare mention the subject again.

"Well, I'm pretty sure he's got some big guns in store, I would if I had a lady like you." - a male patient lying in the bed adjacent to Elle’s patient added smiling flirtatiously. 

"Jerry, you were supposed to focus on getting better, not stealing my girlfriend." They all jumped when a deep baritone echoed throughout the room, hitting present company like a wrecking ball. She must have left the door ajar or Ethan could penetrate the walls soundlessly, because no one heard him coming.

Exactly how long has he been standing there for and how much did he hear?

"Dr. Ramsey, flirting makes your blood flow faster. Isn't it the very definition of life itself?” Jerry’s tone was brisk and lively.

"Well, it definitely isn't the definition of recovery after a heart attack." Ethan used his authoritative doctor’s voice but knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. Jerry had something he didn't: a couple more decades of life experience under his belt and even the best medical school in the country couldn’t compete with this.  

"Besides, Dr. Ramsey, I don't think that the beautiful Dr. Valentine here fancies old farts like me." 

"That's where you are wrong, Jerry, looks like this is exactly the type I fancy." The two women laughed, however Ethan was far from amused. "Dr. Ramsey is 10 years older than me."

"10 years? What is 10 years in these times? Nothing. When I was getting married 40 years ago, it was something. But today? Look at all them playboys with girls younger than my granddaughter. 10 years is actually a very healthy difference. Men are immature and slower with growing up emotionally. So I'd say you've caught up, Dr. Ramsey, and the two of you are emotional peers now.”

“Thank you for the fascinating lesson in human psychology, Jerry. To think I’ve wasted all this time and money on medical school and no one taught me this.”

“Dr. Ramsey, it’s because schools and useful knowledge are mutually exclusive.”

Elle and Faye were on the verge of bursting out in laughter, but managed to keep their composure and used the non-verbal communication of exchanging glances instead.

Once they made sure their patients had everything they need, Ethan and Elle wished them a good day and promised to stop by in 2 days, as the following day was their day off.

The moment the door closed behind them, Ethan crossed his arms on his chest.

"I lose you from my sight for one second and this happens. 5 more minutes with Jerry and I'd be single again."

"At least no one wants to poke your eyes out for being with me."

"And someone wants to poke yours?"

"Where do I start... nurses, who had a crush on you long before I even set foot in Edenbrook? Female interns? Anyone, who has a pair of functioning eyes and ever looked at you?"

She was adorable when she was doing this, her whole body overtaken by excitement and her hands waving. When she was talking about something really important to her she wasn't just conversing with her mouth, she was doing it with her whole body.

Suddenly, his pager painfully reminded Ethan that this was neither the place nor the time to lose himself in adoration.

"I need to go, I'm completely swamped today and I have my favourite cherry-on-top board meeting. In case I don't see you for the rest of your shift - I’ll pick you up at 7."

He was gone before she was able to form a response. Was it just her or was Dr Ramsey weirdly… nervous?

* * * * * * * *

At 7pm sharp, Ethan Ramsey curled his palm in a fist and gently knocked. The door opened in an instant, as if someone knew he'd been standing there for the past few minutes.

"Ethan! I mean Dr. Ramsey...please come in!" Sienna squeaked with nervous excitement as she let him in.

"Outside of Edenbrook Ethan is just fine, Sienna. If you don't mind me calling you by your first name, of course."

"Mm..mme? No, yes, I mean... Elle is on the balcony." She tried to hide her embarrassment and motioned towards the tall windows surrounding the living room. Some time ago, he would have been oddly proud to have such an intimidating effect on people - nowadays, more than anything, he was amused. Has he really changed so much?

The answer to his question was leaning against the railing, glass of wine in her hand. Gauzy, flowery dress enveloped her frame and tanned skin. 

For Ethan, it was as clear as crystal: summer had the face and scent of Noelle Valentine.

Long before she started leaving her toothbrush in his apartment and sleeping in his old JH t-shirts, Ethan noticed that whenever he laid eyes on her, his whole body started acting in a very irrational way. His doctor’s instincts prompted him to think of all types of biological causes and chemical reactions in the brain. Then, when he sort of admitted to himself it’s not just pure science, Ethan leaned towards the forbidden fruit theory - the more he couldn’t have his drug, the more he was craving it.

But the feeling never disappeared. Whenever he wouldn’t see her for a while - be that an hour, a day, or just when she went to take a shower or make a coffee - the very moment her face came into his view again, he felt his stomach somersaulting.

Every. Single. Time.

It wasn’t any different now.

"Drinking without me?"

She almost dropped the glass when his voice stopped the train of thought in her head. But then she saw his face, the way too seldom relaxed muscles and a barely-there smile.

A perfectly tailored shirt clung to his torso marvellously. If not in medicine, he surely would have made a name for himself in the fashion industry. Fortunately for her, the idea never crossed his mind. 

The warm wind blew in her face, carrying the scent of expensive cologne which overwhelmed her nostrils. She didn’t know this one, so it must have been new. But she did know that smelling it for the whole evening while staring at his handsome face will be a pure torture.

Simply put, she was a goner.

"I don't know why, but I was quite nervous. Had to summon the courage somehow.”

“As you should be. After all, it's not every day that one goes on their first date."

She looked at him as if she’d just been told that a UFO landed on the roof.

“On a what?”

"Well, I was thinking a lot lately about how we never had a first date. Nothing was ever...typical with us. I promised myself I will do my best to fix things that caused you pain or deprived you of the things you deserved. Maybe I cannot fix some immediately, but this one I can, so I will."

Her eyes, overbrimming with affection struck him like thousand lightnings. Thank god a comfortable silence fell between them - had she asked him a question, it would have been clear that right now he is nothing but a simpering moron.

With this in mind, he took his hands from behind his back, holding a small bouquet of pink gerberas.

"These are my favourites." Her face instantly illuminated at the well known sight and smell. "How did you know?”

"I had some amazing helpers."

Elle instantly turned her head left and looked inside, where grinning, Sienna was showing her the thumbs up.

"Wow, now I actually wish I'd downed the whole bottle."

"I'm glad you didn't. I want to go on a date with a woman, not her lifeless body, even though the body itself is very appealing. Shall we?”

“King of compliments…”

* * * * * * * *

"You actually look like you are having a good time, Dr Ramsey.”

"Why wouldn't I? There is alcohol, sitting under the sky definitely has its charm and the company is acceptable." She playfully swatted his arm, the gesture a quick reminder of how comfortable they felt with each other, something he constantly remembered to never take for granted.

“Although I love this, I still don’t understand why you dragged me all the way outside Boston, I’m pretty sure the rooftop bars are pretty acceptable there, too. A bit more crowded though, that’s for sure.”

“Are you complaining about the fact that we have this entire place to ourselves? I know the owner and he was indebted to me.”

“Of course he was.” Looks like the whole town is indebted to Ethan freakin’ Ramsey.

“With regards to why I brought you here… you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Gosh. She couldn’t decide whether the mysterious side of Ethan Ramsey was hot as hell or annoying as hell. But she didn’t really have time to contemplate, because her companion asked her a question.

“Why did you become a doctor?” The ocean eyes pierced her to the core and she had a feeling that even if she was the best actress in the world, there was no way she’d be able to hide something from this man.

“That’s a terrible change of subject. Also, I must have told you like a million times already.”

“No, you never told me.”

When she looked at him and really, really thought about it… she suddenly realised Ethan was right. Elle told the story so many times she sort of… assumed she told Ethan, too. 

“Are you sure you want to hear it today? It’s a pretty sad story, a mood killer I’d say.”

“It’s what makes you you, so yes, I want to hear all about it - the good, the bad and the indifferent.”

“I’ll tell you, but I need to ask something first. Why now? We’ve known each other for a while and you just… I just sort of assumed this isn’t the type of conversation you’d like to hold.”

“You’ve hit the nail on the head.” Ethan’s expression was gentle, not a hint of irony in his voice. “I’ve known you for a while now, but there are still so many things about you that I don’t know. At first, I didn’t want to ask, because asking these questions meant admitting that there is something more between us. What a fail would that be, after I’ve mastered the art of denial.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a bitter or a nervous laugh, it was a genuine banter between them, as the British half of her soul liked to call it. “But you made me want to dig deeper.”

Was it the heat that made her catch her breath, or did it have nothing to do with the temperature?

“Plus, this is sort of what first dates are for, right? I’m sorry for skipping right to the more complex questions. It’s not that I don’t want to know what you were afraid of as a child, I want to know all the details… but it feels like the atmosphere calls for something…bigger.”

So she told him all about her friend, how she fell ill, how she couldn’t be saved and how the experience wreaked havoc on her whole life, tears glistening in her eyes at the mere memory of the events that shaped who she was today.

Ethan listened, his whole body tense and eyes transfixed. She was giving him one of the most fragile parts of her and he had to make sure his hands were there to catch, carry and care for this treasure.

“And that’s when I realised that if I focused on becoming the best doctor I could be, then maybe one day, I’d be that person who has an answer, who can solve a mystery and save a relationship that means the world to someone. Sometimes, people don’t realise that when a person dies, it’s not only them that’s gone. The part of someone who stays, who has to deal with the whole ‘me after you’ - that part is gone, too. So for me, in a way, this meant saving more than one life.”

For a couple of seconds he didn’t move. Then, without saying a single word and with an unreadable expression he got up and offered her a hand, which she silently accepted. He led her to the railing, where the sun was slowly sinking into the boundless waters of Quincy Bay.

His lips found the all too well known way to her forehead, placing a loving kiss on her delicate skin.

“I am so proud of you.” There was something so mesmerising in his whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

“As a mentor or as a boyfriend?”

“Both. I want you to know that your dedication to people who rely on you is astounding and hardly present in doctors your age. Or any age, for that matter.”

“Wow, Dr Ramsey, smooth. Trying to hit on me with a recycled pick-up line used on a national TV? No wonder you didn’t have too many girlfriends.”

“No, I didn’t. But I believe everyone has a limit of luck they can get per life. And looking at you, I got a couple of lifetimes worth of luck.”

This was enough to render her speechless. She smiled and at this very moment he knew he would do anything to make her smile like this. She wrapped him around her pinky finger and suddenly his whole existence revolved around finding ways of seeing her curve these breathtaking lips as often as possible and making sure he is the reason she smiles… not crying her eyes out.

Although the other didn’t know, because none of them said it out loud, they both thought the same thing.

This feels so right. 

There isn’t a hint of awkwardness in the fact that they can go from being serious or emotionally vulnerable to funny and teasing in seconds.

In one effortless movement, Ethan spun her and pressed her back against his chest.  Then, he started placing a series of tender kisses along her jawline and the crook of her neck, slowly moving towards her shoulder. 

Come on, just say it Ramsey. It doesn’t get any better than this.

He wrapped her palm in his and pointed them towards the sky. 

“There they are - the Little Dipper and the Big Dipper.” Their intertwined fingers were jumping from one tiny flashing point to the other, as if they were playing connect the dots. “And that’s Orion’s Belt.”

“I really don’t get why at this point I’m still surprised that you’re good at everything.”

Elle was drunk on his every word, as this annoying trait of Ethan Ramsey being the know-it-all was actually one of her favourite things about him. 

As for Ethan, he couldn’t help but think that life wasn’t perfect and was never going to be. But this - this moment - it was in fact perfect. Why take chances of ruining it, when so many things can go wrong?

What if she doesn't say it back?

What if she's just gonna laugh at him or tell him he had it all wrong.

What if he misinterpreted everything and she never thought about him this way?

He was terrified of being this exposed. The last person he loved so much left him without batting an eyelid and disappeared for 25 fucking years.

Maybe it was better to live in a perfect illusion than a reality in which there was even a 0.01% chance she doesn't love him back.

So they both drowned in the moment, drifted in the sea of rapture, lost in the illusion that it can all last forever.

It was her who broke the silence.

“I’m getting a bit cold, is it ok if we call it a night?”

“Right, of course.”

“Thank you for the first date, I loved it.”

Handing her his jacket (her favourite, the dark green leather one) Ethan was furious at himself. 

Maybe he was broken. Maybe he will remain broken forever. Maybe that’s the way it must be.

“Do you want to spend the night at mine?” The question slipped his tongue before he was able to fully reflect on it.

“At yours? Unless you have some secret place I don’t know about, just a quick reminder - I live there too.”

“Since this was our first date, I thought it was a gentlemanly thing to ask.”

“In that case… I am afraid I have the ‘after the 3rd date’ sleepover rule, Dr Ramsey.”

* * * * * * * *

The morning came all too soon and the hot, ruthless rays of the rising sun announced that Ethan is now way past his regular wake up and get up time. He barely slept, tossing and turning, replaying every second of the evening in his head.

His hand mindlessly reached for what he hoped to be the familiar curves and softness of the body he adored so much. 

But his palm hit the mattress with a loud thud. The bed was empty. 

The all-too-well known feeling of hopelessness slipped into the doctor's mind with ease. What did he expect? He was acting weird the previous day. First date, what a stupid idea. She must have realised something is wrong with him and finally left.

But before he was able to fully wallow in the mud of pity, the feeling was soon replaced by an old friend Ethan haven’t heard from for a long time.

Panic. 

Where was she? Is she ok? What if something happened to her and he was just sleeping like a log instead of being there to protect her. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing her… again. Something grabbed his chest in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. 

Scenes flashed before his eyes, vivid and bright. Their hands touching through the glass wall. Her hand cupping his cheek through the layer of hazmat suit.

He got out of bed at the speed of sound and started running around the apartment, but she was nowhere to be seen. 

Suddenly, he noticed.

The balcony door was opened wide. 

Shit.

Heart in his mouth, Ethan crossed the distance between his kitchen island and the balcony door in the blink of an eye. 

Elle was just serving pancakes outside. The goddamn pancakes. The only thing he couldn’t cook. The one thing she kept teasing him about and he rolled his eyes every time she did.

God, he promised himself he will never learn how to make them, if it meant she would just tease him forever.

She was smiling as widely as ever, putting the sun and everything else in the world to shame. Ethan was still a bit shaken and his uneven breathing gave him away. Elle finally noticed his presence.

“Good morning, I was just about to—“

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They both froze. 

The tension in the silence that had just set in was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But the silence didn’t last long. As one man, with eyes full of disbelief, they both murmured simultaneously:

“What did you just say?”

This time, he felt obliged to break the silence.

"I...I...I mean, I…" 

Damn it, get it together, idiot.

"I didn't mean to…”

Great, Ramsey, keep digging an even deeper hole for yourself, then crawl in and stay there forever.

"You didn't mean to say it?”

"Yes. No. I mean, damn it, I am making things worse, aren't I?”

She didn’t set him straight.

"The thing is, I wanted to say it yesterday. I had it all planned, I took you for a first date and I wanted to say it for the first time yesterday.”

"Why did it have to be yesterday?”

“Give me a minute.”

She just rolled her eyes, but Ethan didn’t have a chance to notice before disappearing inside. A few moments later he re-emerged, his face and torso covered by a neatly wrapped, rectangle-shaped object.

"What's this?"

"Something you should have unpacked yesterday, but then... life happened."

Elle sat down on cold tiles, her hands trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. And just like he did months ago, he took her hand in his, only this time he cupped his own cheek with her palm and placed the most tender kiss on the inside of her hand.

It was her favourite medicine, a remedy for all things wrong. 

He sat beside her and nodded at the mysterious package. With impatience growing inside of her, Elle has torn the paper up.

Inside was a dark blue, framed print - the colour of it an instant reminder of her favourite set of irises.

She studied everything with intent. A circle must have been representing the earth and the irregular dots and lines must have been the stars and constellations. 

"A map of the sky? That's beautiful, Ethan."

He knew immediately that although her delight was sincere, she had absolutely no clue what she was looking at and why she was looking at it.

“It's not just any map of the sky.” Ethan explained gently, hints of pride colouring his voice. “It's a map of the Boston sky from exactly a year ago. Well, a year and a day.” He smiled faintly, now a shade of sorrow in his enchanting voice.

Silence. Was she supposed to know what that meant?

“Aren’t you full of mysteries today? Ok, you need to throw me a lifebelt here. What's so special about the sky from a year and a day ago?”

“For the world? Probably not too much. For me? Everything.”

At this stage of their relationship, she knew a lot about Ethan’s behaviours, triggers, his body language. And not just a relationship as a couple, but also everything that came before Ethan became someone she was running through life with (the life of two doctors in one of the busiest and most prestigious hospitals was certainly not a walk in the park).

But it still fascinated her how his demeanour changed whenever the subject was serious, whenever he was talking about something that truly mattered to him. It was as if he’d stripped down of all the layers and let her look into his bare soul. These rare moments of vulnerable intimacy meant more to her than any night of passion they ever shared.

Her eyes turned to him in pledge, because as much as she wanted to, Dr Valentine still couldn’t fully comprehend the scene unraveling in front of her.

“Read the description below the map.”

Dear God, did she actually hear shyness in his voice?

She skimmed through the image again, and there it was, right at the bottom. Elle was so focused on trying to decipher the meaning of the image that she didn’t notice the words below. 

The words which explained everything.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THE DAY 

THAT MADE ME REALISE

YOU ARE THE SKY

EVERYTHING ELSE IS JUST THE WEATHER

Her emerald eyes brimmed with hot tears as the meaning dawned upon her. Words were very unnecessary, but now that he summoned the courage to speak, there was still a lot he wanted to put into words. He gently took the frame from her hands and leaned it securely against the wall.

Taking her palms into his, he placed delicate kisses on her knuckles, his lips tracing the shape of these two tiny hands, which held all of him. Everything he had, everything he was and was going to be, he placed in those two fragile palms, with an unspoken hope that they will hold him and catch him if he falls. 

“Look at me.” The words were pulsing with care and affection, even though his voice coloured them in serious and desperate shades.

“One year ago… and a day from today…” He smiled and she felt the warmth spilling inside of her. The power he had over her was beyond the limits of understanding. 

Little did she know that the object of her affection was lost in the same thought.

“I was standing exactly where we stand right now. It was dark and the view wasn’t that spectacular.” He freed one of his hands, but only to make contact with her cheek to caress it slowly. In this moment, he had to touch her any way that he could. With his hands. With his eyes. With his soul.

“But I always found comfort in staring at the sky. When I was at med school, I had countless moments of doubt, I wanted to quit more times than I can count. So I used to go to a secluded place at night and stare at the sky. It made me realise how, in one respect, I am just a grain of sand in the universe and how little my problems are. Funnily enough, this thought actually brought me a sense of comfort. If I am as little as I think I am, then what is the harm in being brave and taking chances? A wise man once said… There are some things that are worth any risk.” 

She giggled through the tears, the sweet sound soothing his shattered nerves.

“I was standing right here and I never felt more miserable in my life. And I couldn’t understand why, for God’s sake. I was thriving at work. I had everything figured out and planned. I was pushing you to be the best you could be and I watched you turn into someone who would one day be far greater than me. But you looked so sad, so… broken. You already know I can’t just gloss over you feeling down. The sadder you were, the more miserable I felt. One evening, I was having a glass of scotch and I remembered some tiny exchange we’ve had earlier in the day, literally a chit chat. No idea what it was about. But I remembered your smile and your laugh. Every tiniest move of your muscles, your eyes, how your hair set around your face. It made me happy. Even if it was just for 5 minutes, knowing that you are happy in that very moment filled my chest with lightness. That’s when I realised I want to be the person who makes you feel this way.”   

She blinked the first time in a while, as if she was afraid to make the tiniest movement, afraid it will all disappear and turn out to be a dream. Giant teardrops rolled down her angelic face, trailing the path of joy.

“Noelle Sky Valentine, I love you. I have loved you for a long time but I was too stubborn to let myself give in. And that, as you already know, will always be one of my biggest regrets.” 

“Ethan, I don’t… I’m so sorry, I just don’t know what to say.” Her voice was saturated with emotions.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for.“ 

“I love you too, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. You are by far the most complicated and stubborn person I have ever met. You are… everything I never knew I looked for in another human being.”

Once he heard her say it back, he couldn't get enough of it and a lifetime didn't feel like enough to tell her he loves her, as many times as he wished to.

“But I do have to mention this, Dr Ramsey… from the first date to a love confession in less than 24 hours? I’m sorry, I think this is moving too fast.”

“I’ll show you too fast…but I’m afraid we need to get inside, I don’t want the whole world and its wife to see how I teach you a thing or two.”

Ethan scooped her in his arms and carried her inside, despite her mock protests. He smiled and corrected himself. 

He wanted for the whole world to see.

Because the whole world was right there. 

In his arms.

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

If you’ve gotten this far, I need you to know you are absolutely amazing 💗

Tag 🏷 list: @jamespotterthefirst @romewritingshop @romereadingshop @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @mrs-ramsey @maurine07 @gryffindordaughterofathena @mercury84choices @lovingramsey @qrkowna @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations @lisha1valecha​ @oldminniemcg​ @iemcpbchoices​ @tsrookie​ @fayeswiftie​ @levinsdowneyy​ @brooks-eden​ @poudredevie​ @queencarb​ @caseyvalentineramsey​ @lucy-268​ @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend​ @alwaysmychoices-sideblog​ @whippedforethanfreakingramsey​ @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @the-pale-goddess​ @lem-20​ @wingedhairstylemusicweasel​ @liaromancewriter​ @ohchoices​ @archxxronrookie​

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Flames & Feelings — Zuko x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Zuko struggles to control his firebending whenever you’re around.

A/N: the idea for this came from the very first episode of ATLA, when Katara's frustration at Sokka caused the ice around her to crack. Emotions play a part in bending, but we really only saw anger in the show. What about love? Also, apologies in advance, I am so bad at figuring out how to end my fics 😅

Masterlist

Skich. Skich. Skich.

After finding those spark rocks in the market, Sokka insisted that he use them to start the campfire. Unfortunately, he was having no luck. He scraped and scratched them together, but the sparks they produced were pathetic.

Zuko sighed and dropped his head. Watching the non-bender try to do something that he could do instantly was aggravating. “Sokka, just let me—”

“No, no, I can do this!”

Everyone let out a groan.

“What’s all the fuss?” You asked, walking over to the group.

Skich. Fwoom!

“See, I told you guys I could do it! Now look who’s the firebender,” Sokka said proudly. Indeed, small flames had erupted from the wood pile.

“It’s about time! I can finally start cooking dinner,” Katara grumbled, not holding back her frustration. “Somebody hide those spark rocks from him, so he doesn’t do this again!”

“No! I bought them, they’re mine!” Sokka cried as he clutched the rocks to his chest. You giggled and shook your head at them, taking a seat next to Zuko.

As the water tribe siblings continued to bicker, Zuko tried to relax himself. That fire wasn’t started by Sokka; it was him. Whenever you were around, he seemed to lose control of his firebending.

He couldn’t help it; he really liked you. You were kind, funny, smart, strong, beautiful, and the list went on. Being with you made him excited. It also made him nervous.

What if [y/n] doesn’t like me back?

Zuko was all too familiar with rejection—his father banished him, his mother abandoned him, his sister hated him, and he was sure his uncle did too—but still, he was deeply afraid of it. At 16 years old, he finally started to make real friends. There was absolutely no way Zuko would risk ruining the friendship he so treasured with you.

And so, he kept his crush a secret...

...but his firebending did not.

Zuko didn’t know how long this problem had persisted for, but it had to have been a while. The first time he noticed it was when you stopped by to watch him practice firebending. Feeling pressured to impress you, he lost control of his flames and almost lit a nearby bush on fire.

Another time, Zuko was meditating in his tent. He always lit candles when doing so to help him focus. Hearing that sweet, bubbly laughter of yours outside made his heart skip a beat, causing the thin flames to rapidly grow taller. Fortunately, he caught them in time before his tent set on fire.

And now, just sitting next to you at the campfire made him anxious, which caused the flames to reach a little higher, making him more anxious, which made the issue worse. It was like he was trapped in a continuous cycle of anxiety. The only thing we could do was slow his breathing, steady his heart rate and calm his mind, while hoping no one would notice.

“Zuko?...Zuuuuko?”

“Huh?” Zuko snapped out of his thoughts.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Okay...well I was just asking you how your day was.”

“Oh. Uh, also fine.”

As much as he wanted to talk to you, Zuko knew he couldn’t. Talking would make his situation worse. So he gave you short responses and hoped you would get the hint. However, that only made you worried about him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem, I don’t know, distant lately,” you said with concern.

“Yeah, just fine,” he gave you a smile. It was suspiciously fake.

You huffed. You knew something was up—it was so obvious—and it was frustrating that Zuko wouldn’t admit it. For now, you let it go. It was time to eat dinner anyway.

After a nice, hearty meal of soup, it was time to go to sleep. The sun had set long ago. Story telling, jokes and witty banter had been replaced by mather nature’s ambiance; crickets chirped and the campfire crackled. Everyone was tired.

Aang yawned, “I think it’s time to sleep.”

“Agreed. Last one to bed, don’t forget to put out the fire!” Sokka said as he got up to leave.

One by one, the Gaang members said their “good nights” and withdrew to their tents. Then, it was just you and Zuko.

“We should get to bed too. I’ll put out the fire.” He stood to leave, but you grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait. Can we talk for a second?”

Oh no. The fire grew a little. What does [y/n] want to talk about? Do they know I like them? Do they know I can’t control my firebending? Or is it something else? Are they mad at me?

Zuko hesitantly sat back down. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

You turned to face him. “Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You asked sincerely. Now that everyone else was gone, maybe Zuko would feel more open to talk about it.

Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the case. Zuko couldn’t find the courage to tell you about his feelings. Instead, he racked his mind, trying to find a way out of this conversation without being too weird. Meanwhile, the flames of the campfire flicked and danced wildly.

“I-I don’t know,” he replied bashfully.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I, uh, can’t tell you,” he stammered.

“What? Why?”

The campfire cracked and popped loudly. Not only was it becoming bigger, it was becoming hotter too. Zuko bit his lip trying to think of a good response. He had never been this nervous before.

“Because, umm,” he trailed off.

You leaned forward slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Because...?”

Now you noticed yourself feeling much warmer than before. Something big and bright caught the corner of your eye. When you turned to look at it, a gasp escaped your mouth.

“Zuko! The fire!” You cried as you backed away from it.

All the tension Zuko had built up inside turned the previously small campfire into one that was the size of a bonfire. Bigger, taller, hotter and brighter, it was out of control.

You grabbed a small bucket of water near you and splashed it on the fire. It wasn’t enough to put it out and barely did a thing.

“Zuko, do something! Put it out!” You hissed, trying not to wake up the rest of the team.

“I’m trying!” Zuko waved his arms trying to diminish the flames. He already had a hard time taming them when he was just sitting with you. Now that you were freaking out, he was really struggling. You ran to Katara’s tent to get help.

“Katara! Wake up!” You shook her body.

“Huh? What’s going on?” She said, wiping her eyes.

“Fire! Campfire! Out of control! Zuko can’t stop it!” You rambled while gesturing wildly with your hands.

Katara grabbed her waterskin and rushed out of her tent. With the wave of her arms, she guided her water to the fire and put it out within seconds. Smoke arose from the sizzling, burnt firewood.

“Phew, thanks, Katara,” you said with relief.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” She turned to Zuko and pointed at finger to his chest. “Next time you want to impress someone, why don’t you just give them flowers instead of firebending and burning down the whole campsite?” She scolded.

Zuko’s eyes widened in shock. How does she know I like [y/n]?!

“What? No! That’s wasn’t what I was doing!” Zuko said, pleading innocence. Katara pursed her lips and shook her head as she returned to her tent.

“Good night, you two,” she said cheekily before slipping inside.

You turned to face Zuko, jaw slacked. You were shocked and confused by everything that just happened. He whipped the swear off his brow and took a deep breath.

“I think I’m ready to tell you what’s wrong now.”

You gave Zuko a puzzled look. Now you were even more confused. Nevertheless, you sat down next to him, because you were glad that he would finally open up to you about it.

“This is going to sound weird, but I can’t control my firebending when I’m around you,” Zuko confessed.

“What? Why? Did something happen?” He shook his head.

Zuko’s inability to bend properly reminded you of when he lost his firebending in the air temple. It was because he was previously taught to fuel it with anger. If firebending can be fueled with anger, you wondered if Zuko was unable to control it now because he was upset with you.

“Did I do something?” You asked worriedly.

“Mmm-mm,” he shook his head again. “No, actually, you’ve done nothing at all,” he chuckled a little.

“I don’t understand. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No, I’m not. It’s the opposite actually. I like being with you, but I get so nervous, because...well, I don’t think you like me.” Heat pooled in Zuko’s cheeks. He looked away so you wouldn’t see it.

“Why would you think that? Of course I like you, Zuko,” you assured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He sighed. “I meant as more than a friend.”

“You do?” You asked in disbelief, blushing.

“Yeah,” Zuko mumbled quietly.

“I like you too,” Zuko turned to you with raised brows before you continued, “as more than a friend.”

“Really?” Now it was his turn to be surprised.

“Yes, really.”

You smiled, and Zuko smiled back. He brought a hand up to your face and gently cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth. Your eyes locked with his, and, for a second, you saw him glance at your lips. You knew what he was thinking. Slowly, you leaned forward, and he did too, until the gap was closed. His lips were soft and warm. You melted right into him.

When the two of you separated, you nuzzled your head in the crook of his warm neck. His arms wrapped around you to bring you closer. Instead of heading off to bed like everyone else, you both silently agreed to stay up just a little bit longer. And just like that, all the butterflies in Zuko's stomach flew away. He would no longer have any trouble controlling his bending.

[aquariuscurly94]

Heaven Disclaimer: I do not own LOK

Summary: She has to be honest with herself, before Bolin’s question last night, she had never really thought about heaven much or what it would possibly look like after they had all passed on. Bolin even played the song for her so she could get a better understanding to what he meant when he said that Opal was his heaven.

Everybody's talkin' 'bout heaven like they just can't wait to go They're sayin' how it's gonna be so good, so beautiful Lyin' next to you, in this bed with you, I ain't convinced 'Cause, I don't know how, I don't know how heaven, heaven Could be better than this, mm Heaven Kane Brown

Korra would be the first one to wake up in the mornings. Her blue eyes opening slowly, her arm muscles popping as she stretched them out above her head, yawning as she rub the sleep from her eyes. She chuckled quietly so she wouldn’t wake up her beautiful raven haired girlfriend Asami who was sleeping next to her, her hair spread out across the pillow that she was sleeping on with her mouth slightly open. She chuckled again because she wanted so badly to take a picture of her sleeping but knew that there would be serious consequences if she did that to her.

She sighed happily in content, still couldn’t believe that her and Asami have been together for a full year!

The two of them had decided when they first started dating to keep it a secret from their friends and family after they discovered their bisexuality. However, one of their friends Bolin had noticed that the two were dating right away but promised them both that he wouldn’t say anything until they were ready to tell people first on their own. Which to them, was a surprise because usually he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut most times.

Korra turned over in the covers to look at her lovely girlfriend once more, admiring her beauty, the way that her mouth was still hanging open as she slept. She was surprised that she was not talking in her sleep like she would usually do whenever they had a sleepover after a night out with their friends.

Speaking of her friends, her mind wondered back to a conversation that she had with Bolin last night at their bonfire hangout. She sighed as she wrapped her arms around Asami and looked up at the ceiling above her. It was a strange conversation she has to admit to herself but the more she thought about it over and over, the more she somewhat understood it.

Korra stared at Bolin as he blew out the burning marshmallow at the end of a stick that he was holding, shoving down the whole thing in his mouth and swallowed it without even chewing it first. She chuckled at him. “ Dude! Slow down! There’s plenty more in the bag!” she told him, pointing at the bag that was sitting near the bonfire. “You are going to make yourself sick if you keep doing that!”

Bolin wiped his mouth using the back of his hand before reaching down to grab another marshmallow from the bag and putting it on the stick and placing it near the fire, “sorry! It’s just so damn good and chewy!”

Korra rolled her blue eyes and shook her head at him, knowing for a fact that he won’t listen to her reasoning and he would just have to learn the hard way. She raised an eyebrow as he took another bite, smiling as he swallowed it, “whatever dude, I’ve tried.”

Bolin waved her off as he sat his stick down next to him, glancing over across from them at his sweet, adorable girlfriend Opal, who was laughing and talking to Korra’s girlfriend Asami, their heads close together as Asami told Opal something in her ear which made Opal laughed again. He smiled when Opal looked at him briefly with a huge smile on her face before looking back at Asami.

“Hey Korra,” he muttered, as he turned away from his girlfriend, looking deeply into the orange flames of the bonfire in front of him, “do you think about what heaven would be like after we all had passed away?”

Korra stopped mid chew of her marshmallow at Bolin’s strange and weird question. “What do you mean?”

Bolin shook his head in embarrassment at how strange his question had sounded just now, laughing nervously at the strange look Korra was giving him. “It’s nothing weird I promise!” he told her hurriedly, putting up his hands in defense. “ I know that you don’t listen to country music and neither do I, but, there’s this song by this singer Kane Brown and it’s called ‘Heaven’ and it’s a beautiful song!”

Korra raised an eyebrow at him, still highly confused about his question, still have no idea where this conversation was going at this point, “what is the song about Bolin?”

Bolin sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, clearing his throat before he explained it to her, “basically he talks about heaven and how everyone is so excited about going there because it’s supposed to be really beautiful. However, if you listen closely to the song, it’s actually about his wife, about how beautiful she was even more beautiful than heaven,” he sighed as he glanced back at Opal, who was still laughing and talking to Asami. “I think I’ve found my heaven Korra, and she’s so beautiful and kind.”

He sighed dreamily when he looked back over to Korra with and raised eyebrow, “my question for you is, ummm, do you see Asami as your heaven too?”

Korra remembered not answering his question right away when he had asked her that, unsure at how to answer him when she was put on the spot like that.

She remembers looking at Asami after that question, watching her as she laughed, watched when she gave Mako a giant hug when he finally showed up to the hangout. She had always told Asami that she had a beautiful laugh, always telling her how beautiful her smile was and how it would be always cute watching her talking in her sleep. She would always tell her that she had a lovely demeanor, always telling her at how thankful she was when Asami had taken care of Korra when she was sick a few months ago.

Korra blinked out of her thoughts at the soft sighing of Asami next to her. She looked down to see if she had woken up and smiled when she saw rear her eyes were still closed.

She has to be honest with herself, before Bolin’s question last night, she had never really thought about heaven much or what it would possibly look like after they had all passed on. Bolin even played the song for her so she could get a better understanding to what he meant when he said that Opal was his heaven.

“Korra.”

Korra looked down to see Asami looking at her with loving and adoring eyes, smiling at her as she snuggling up closer to her.

“Yes Asami?”

“I love you,” Asami whispered before going back to sleep, “so damn much.”

Korra gasped when everything had dawned on her at that moment just now, everything to what Bolin had said was true, everything to what he talked about Opal and how he explained the song to her was also true! She finally understood what Bolin was trying to tell her this whole time!

Korra bit her lower lip as she kissed the top of Asami’s head, smiling down at her, “I love you too, my beautiful heaven.”

AN: sooo this is my first fic of korrasami!! I truly love this pairing and I absolutely love Kane Brown so I decided to do a fic about his song Heaven! Truly hope that you guys loved it!!

[v-hope]

He finds out you bias a member from another group

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fluff... idk about crack and suggestive but... maybe like sprinkles of it in some?

Request by @incrediblybiased: “BTS reaction to finding out your bias from another group?”

A/N: Hello it me, still with a lil bit of writers block but I hope this is worth reading. Enjoy? Hopefully? 💞

Kim Seokjin

“Okay, who is this?” Seokjin asked out of nowhere, slumping down by your side on the couch as he held his phone up for you to look at.

At the sight of the picture his mobile was displaying, you could do nothing but roll your eyes. A picture of no other than Bang Chan being the one he had chosen to show you.

“Jin” you whined, “ever since I told you he’s my bias you’ve been–”

“Who is this?” he repeated, bluntly cutting off your words.

Although rolling your eyes again, a smirk curved up your lips this time. “A very beautiful man”.

Completely unfazed at such answer he had been expecting, he put the phone down and later pressed his wrists together, placing his opened hands bellow his face. “And who is this?”

“An absolute idiot who just so happens to own my heart”.

“Yah!” he scolded you, tilting his body back out of impression. “So he’s beautiful and I’m an idiot?”

“I literally said my heart is y–”

“No, no” he shook his head, grabbing his phone and unlocking it right then. “Let’s go again” he stated, showing you Chan’s picture again. “Who is this?”

“A very beautiful man” you kept your previous answer.

“And who is this?” he once again motioned to himself.

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as you replied: “The most handsome moron there is”.

That sounded more like it.

Nevertheless, he decided to push it just a little more: “Who you love dearly?”

You nodded your head in amusement. “Who I, for some reason, love dearly”.

Ha. Take that, Bang Chan.

Min Yoongi

“You know, when you told me Baekhyun was your bias, I didn’t expect… this…” Yoongi let out as his eyes remained fixed on the other end of your room.

Because one thing was for you to warn him Baekhyun had been your bias ever since forever before visiting your parents’ house back in your hometown, and a very different one was for you to have a life size cutout of him in there.

A cutout placed right next to your closet, which couldn’t help but catch your boyfriend’s eye first thing as he entered your old bedroom for the first time.

“I was a teenager!” you tried to defend yourself as you could already feel the burning heat reach your cheeks. “And anyway, it was way before I met you”.

Not really paying attention to your words and with puffed cheeks, Yoongi stared at the cardboard for a couple of seconds, seeming almost lost in his own mind before he let out the air he had been holding and took a few long steps towards it.

“What are you doing?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow after watching him lift your precious possession up and open your closet’s door.

“He needs to leave” he simply stated, messily shoving it inside before he closed the door. “I can’t have his cold eyes on us as we share a room... especially since we know each other”.

Well, that did sound pretty reasonable.

However, when you were back home and a life size cutout of no other than your own boyfriend arrived on the mail, you knew Yoongi was neither forgetting about said incident nor ever letting you live it down.

But hey, at least now you would have a cardboard boyfriend to replace the real one whenever he was on tour.

Jung Hoseok

“Ten?” he wondered with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips, not having expected that answer at all after having asked you if he was your bias. “As in, Ten from NCT, Ten?”

“Is there any other?” you couldn’t help but show your amusement.

“But–” as impossible as it may had seemed, his eyebrows furrowed even more.

“But?” you wondered, trying to give him the push you knew he needed after his mouth had been shut close.

Just like that, he asked: “Why would you bias him when you have me?”

“Huh?”

Hoseok sighed, resting his elbows on the mattress to get a better look at you. “I mean, like… he’s a dancer, his nose is pointy… his smile is like...” he shrugged, allowing you to understand where he was coming from. “I have those things, too”.

“Oh, sue me for having a type, won’t you?”

Both your words and the pretty visible roll of eyes you had given him had him rolling his own in a second, letting his body slump down on his bed.

“Okay, so you have a type, great” he huffed, causing a small laugh to escape your throat as you crawled over to him and rested your chest on his. “But I’m like… the supreme out of all the people who are your type, right?”

“Jung Hoseok” you tried to call his attention, not being able to hide the huge smile displaying on your lips.

“Yeah?”

“You are the definition of my type”.

Well then. As long as no one removed him from that spot in your life, he guessed he could deal with someone else being your bias.

Kim Namjoon

“Penny for your thoughts?” he wondered, taking a seat beside you as he tried to peek at what you had been staring at for the past minutes on your phone.

“Jae is so amazing” you said in a dreamy way, not giving your words much thought.

Namjoon, on the other hand, did have a lot to think about your words.

“Jae?” he questioned, tilting his head back for a second there before he was back at it again trying to look at your phone.

“Yes, Jae” you confirmed, shifting on the couch to make more room for your boyfriend; allowing him to rest his chin on your shoulder and turning the screen towards him. “Day6? Ring a bell?”

“Oh!” his mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. “Yeah, I know him. So what, you like him?”

“Mhm…” you hummed, not taking your eyes away from your mobile. “I’ve always had a thing for guitarists and he’s just…” not knowing how to express yourself, you let out a sigh instead, letting your head fall on Joon’s.

“What about rappers, though?” he wondered, taking his chin away from your shoulder so he could look you in the eye. “Don’t you have a thing for us, too?”

“Oh, I do” you affirmed with a determined nod of your head. “But guitarists… ugh, I love them. Besides, you know what they say about their fingers and their magic”.

Okay, you were full on taunting him now. But two could play this game, and Namjoon was not getting behind with the teasing. So, with a smirk making its way on his lips, he leaned in until his forehead was resting on yours.

“Okay, but have you ever heard of....” his hand ever so tenderly travelling down your body sent shivers down your spine, “rappers and their tongues?”

Not like you had not experienced that firsthand already… but being reminded of it wouldn’t hurt.

Park Jimin

“Wait, so you’re telling me I’m not your bias?”

The dumbfounded look in his eyes and the way his lower lip was prominently sticking out should’ve been reason enough for you to comfort him. However, you found yourself being tempted enough to tease him just a little bit more instead.

“Nope” you made sure to finish that word with a loud ‘pop’. “You’re my boyfriend”.

“Isn’t that…” he stopped for a second to recollect his thoughts. “Aren’t those two things like, connected? Am I not supposed to be your bias if you’re dating me?”

It was fair to say, he was not talking this brand new information pretty well.

“Mm…” you thought about it for a moment. “I don’t know? Either way it’s not that deep, baby” a light laugh escaped your lips, lovingly cupping his face in your hands.

You were right, he thought – that being the reason he softly nodded his head, contently receiving the chaste kiss you had just pressed down on his lips.

“Just for the record” he spoke up, being his turn to cup your cheeks to make sure you’d pay attention to his next words: “If you ever met him–”

“I’d make sure to let him and everyone else know I am happily taken by the love of my life” you reassured him, knowing what he would ask before he could even finish his sentence.

Jimin smiled brightly. “And that’s me, right?”

“The one and only”.

And that was all that really mattered to him. After all, being the love of your life did beat being your bias big time, didn’t it?

Kim Taehyung

Taehyung didn’t have a jealous bone in his body.

Or so he liked to think, because his heart speeding up and the overall unpleasant feeling in his chest as he looked at you and Kim Jungwoo comfortably talking a few meters away from him at the after party, said otherwise.

It wasn’t the fact that he had found out the night before that the NCT member was your bias, or the fact that you had let him know how bad you wanted to talk to him that night. No, that wasn’t it, for he trusted you with his life.

No, it was the heart eyes said guy was giving you what was upsetting him so much.

So, neither with a plan nor caring about looking like an idiot, he excused himself from Jimin and sprinted towards where you were, easing himself into your conversation by placing his arm around your shoulder.

“Hey” he greeted Jungwoo with a small yet polite nod before his eyes focused on you. “Baby, we’re leaving”.

“So soon?” you asked – disappointment written all over your face.

Taehyung simply nodded, later looking to the guy in front of you: “Sorry to take my girlfriend away just like that, but I need her to go home with me now”.

Your eyebrows knitted together. “Something happened?”

“Oh, no. No, just…” he bit down on his lower lip while he thought of his next words carefully, “there’s something I need your help with… downstairs”.

Now, if he hadn’t been so blunt about it, you might have not choked on air, and maybe then Jungwoo wouldn’t have had a clue about what Tae had meant. But now he sure did.

Saying your awkward goodbyes to a somewhat taken aback Jungwoo, you followed your boyfriend to the exit.

“I didn’t know jealous Taehyung could be so inappropriate”.

“Not jealous” he argued.

“Oh, come on. You even suggested we were going back home to have sex just for him to know we’re together”.

This time, a proud, playful smirk was soon to form on his lips as he leaned closer to your ear. “You’re right, I might be jealous, but I didn’t lie about what we’re doing when we get home”.

He did need some physical reassurement after all.

Jeon Jeongguk

“Guk-ah, please, please, please let’s go talk to him” you begged as you wrapped your arms around his bicep and pulled him closer to you.

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, glancing over the guy you had recognized a few seconds ago, before he focused them back on you. “I’m not sure I want you to meet the guy you just called your bias…” he sheepishly admitted.

A pout was quick to form on your lips. “Come on” you gently caressed his arm. “How come you’ve talked to IU before and I’ve said nothing about it?”

“It’s different” he stated immediately, earning a questioning raise of eyebrow from you that made him continue: “You know I would never actually go for her… and besides, she’s older, she wouldn’t look at me that way either”.

“Oh, so you’re saying I would leave you for Jaehyun?” the cold tone in your voice had him shaking his head no in a heartbeat.

“No! But–” he shrugged, looking at the guy on the other side of the venue, “nothing would stop him from going for you”.

This time, a defeated sigh escaped your lips. Although you didn’t think that was completely true, you could see his point, which is why you unwrapped one of your arms from around his and raised your hand to cup his cheek to make him look at you.

“Not like he actually would, but… have a little faith in me?” you smiled softly, loving the way his doe eyes were staring at you right then. “I would never leave you for anyone else, no matter who they are”.

Jeongguk smiled sweetly, puckering his lips for you to lean in and close the space between your mouths; which you didn’t hesitate to do with a smile already curving up your lips – one that only grew wider the moment he managed to steal another brief peck from you.

“You think he saw that?” he mumbled when your lips were no longer attached but faintly brushing over each other.

You scoffed at his question. “Why don’t we go find out?”

Entirely losing your touch on him and starting to walk over Jaehyun to say ‘hi’, you couldn’t help but tilt your head back and let out a throaty laugh as you felt a whiny Jeongguk follow hot on your heels to try and stop you from it.

Well, at least he tried.

[sxveme-2]

hidden // din djarin

description: the life of nobility wasn't one for everyone. some would rather duck under the shadows around them, especially after a great betrayal to the name of a planet but despite being hidden, not everyone can avoid the blinding lights of danger. whether it be those after those who had escaped, or the poor bounty hunter who ended up picking her up. both with a large bounty on their heads.    follow Cloak as she lives the days as an escaped noble, hiding from the eyes of serenno after the fall of count dooku, shacking up with one of the most sought after child and the mandalorian unfortunate enough to have a big heart.

chapter four: the one with a new title

warnings: violence, fight scenes

word count: 3000

     "you know I shouldn't be teaching you these ways, princess." the commander chuckled as the young girl jogged towards him after the proper training session of new recruits was let out.

      "commander boudir, what am I supposed to do if the castle is attacked though?" she sighed, placing her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side.

      "allow the guards to do their jobs, princess." he sighed, looking down at the young girl, "your father would have my neck if he found out I had even considered teaching you the ways of the soldiers." the man huffed, turning his attention back to bandaging his knuckles.

      the tan skinned girl lowered her eyes and shook her head, loose brown curls dancing across her shoulders. she was prepared to train. she wore a pair of brown cargo pants and a simple white top, comfortable combat boots covering her feet. she was gifted the garments from a few of the vendors she would go see whenever she escaped from the castle or when the royal family did their rounds into the local village. they were her favourite things to wear, but she wasn't allowed to wear them around the royal family. she'd be absolutely shunned if she was found in something other than an unbearably heavy and uncomfortable dress.

      widening her eyes and giving a signature pout, "please?" she asked, rocking back and fourth on the balls of her feet.

      sighing, the man nodded and glanced down at the girl,  "alright then. not for too long though, alright?"

      grinning, the young girl took a few steps back and standing in the stance that he had taught her before. she had come to learn over the past while they had been training that she was quite the acrobat. and he had helped her hone those skills and use them to advantage when they would spar or practice. she just wanted to know how to defend herself for possible future instances, because maker knows that her father had a tendency to upset people. it wouldn't surprise her if there was an attack on the monarch.

        "have you been practicing, princess?"  he taunted.

        the nineteen year old shrugged and tucked a stray piece of hair that had fallen from her braid, grinning up at the man. she loosened her shoulders and gripped her hands into fists. and the sparring began. the man went to strike and she ducked down, summersaulting between his legs, kicking the mans tailbone. she grinned as he stumbled forward, only catching himself on his hands. a laugh escaped his lips as he turned and looked over at the dark haired princess.

       "not bad. you've always been good at thinking quickly." he taunted, motioning her forward, "alright, you haven't won yet. you know the rules, princess, you've gotta get me to fall."

-----

      her eyes fixated on the dark pools of the attackers eyes. putting aside any reservations, she launched forward into action. she grabbed the woman's forearm and yanked her forward, stretching her opposite arm, pulling the serennian directly into the crook of her arm. the other girl hopped back up and kicked at the back of her knee, causing her to stumble forward. letting out a huff of annoyance, she turned back towards her. loosening her shoulders and gripping her hands into fists, she cocked her head in a menacing and taunting way.

      rushing forward, the cloaked woman dropped down and swiped her legs sideways, taking the girl down as she grabbed the blaster on her hip, tossing it over her shoulder and out of her reach. she was quick to recover however, and jumped up and went to grab at her waist. but she was quicker, and gripped the commanders arm and twisted, snapping it over her shoulder before bending down and tossing her over her shoulder. flipping forward, she slammed the heel of her foot down into the olive skinned girl's back, a sick crack echoing through the area.

       "you're good." the woman spat, coughing as she struggled to stand. using a magma rock to heave herself up, she chuckled, "you fight like a serennian."

       lowering her eyes beneath her goggles, she launched once more. the other woman went to punch, but she took the opportunity to summersault between her legs and kick her lower back. but she didn't fall, but caught herself on the same magma rock that had helped her stand. muttering a curse, she used the rock to gain leverage and wrapped her arm around the others neck, kicking her leg around her waist and flipping forward, ending with tossing the dark haired opponent into a rock. not hard enough to kill, just hard enough to maim.

      a sputtering cough came from the girl, as she struggled to stand once more, "maybe a bit dirtier than a serennian." she whispered, rolling onto her butt and leaning back against the rock, "seems like your pals may be having  a few more issues though."

      glancing over her shoulder, she scoffed at a few of the guards heading towards cara and mando with their backs pressed against one another. but luckily, there were only five soldiers left standing. glancing behind her, and then over at the child once more, she went charging forward. she slid forward on her hip and kicked out the back of one of their knees, before twisting and grabbing at his ankle, snapping it forward. grabbing a blaster that had fallen, she jumped onto her feet and shot it in the fallen soldiers chest. this caused a bit more of a distraction, and gave cara and mando a moment to attack the others.

      before long, the only living member was that of her sister from the past. the woman that used to be her sister, more so. someone who she left and forgot about. a beacon of venom that followed her around like an unwanted pet. someone that if she could wipe from her memory, she would. and that sick, poison filled laugh echoed through the field, catching everyone's attention as they turned to her.

     "what's so funny?" cara asked, placing her hand on her hip.

     "mm nothing." she sputtered, wiping the blood from her chin, "she just fights like someone I haven't seen in a while." leta sighed, gesturing towards the cloaked girl standing next to mando.

     "alright, let's get you off this planet." greef karga muttered as him and cara walked forward to handcuff the girl.

     she lowered her eyes at the serennian's gaze. it sent a shiver down her spine, despite the multiple layers she wore to hide her true identity. clearing her throat, she wandered over towards the child, popping his hatch and smiling slightly under her mask at the beaming face that looked up at her. bending down, she plucked the small green creature from his blankets and cradled him into her shoulder, rocking back and fourth as he cooed softly at her.

      "you're a good fighter." mando's voice echoed through his mask, as he walked up behind her, "why don't we update your job title."

      turning, she looked up at the man with a quizzical look hidden underneath her mask, "and what would we update it to? ass kicking nanny?"

     "how about partner. you can help me with the kid obviously, but also with the jobs. you're quick, you move quieter and faster than I do. it could be a benefit for everyone." he answered.

      nodding, she agreed, "alright. doesn't sound too bad. do I get a pay raise?"

     "don't push it."

     "it would make sense!"

-----

      "so what do you plan on doing with her?" mando asked as the two were walked back to the razor crest the day after the ambush.

      apart of her wished she had spoken up and said that they would take the leader of the attack. that they'd turn her over to serenno, but she also knew that there was no punishment on that planet for leta, especially. the only real repercussions would be because of her failure to raid the area, and the loss of men. but they'd quickly move on, and begin the planning of the next raid. planning the next lives they'd take on their attempt to regain empire territory. but instead, she was only left to trust what the two had in mind for her sister. no say or opinion in the matter. which, she was slightly grateful for. since her emotions may cloud her judgement.

     "might turn her over to the resistance," cara sighed, leaning on her left foot, "but she's serennian royalty. there might not be much that can be done."

     "how do you know?" mando asked, shifting his own weight at the new piece of information.

     "she has the tattoo on her arm," karga explained, "the house symbol of her father, and then an image depicting the meaning of her name. hers means joyful, though she seems to be anything but...why don't you guys take her? if you're heading that way."

      she tensed up as he beckoned a few people forward. two men were holding onto the bruised princess, who had a sick grin still on her swollen lips. she shifted slightly where she stood, unable to meet the eyes of the raven haired girl that was being brought forward. she knew that she would be able to overpower her if she tried to step out of line, if they did take her with them in the end. but still, it created risks for her identity to be found out. especially when it was someone she had spent fifteen years with before she escaped. someone who probably knew even she smallest of her mannerisms. from the picking at her gloves to the touching of her covered cheek.

      "sure. but if she acts up or mouths off I may have to put her in carbonite." mando sighed, grabbing the girls arm and tugging her over towards the ship, "thank you. we'll be off then."

      waving one last time, the small group wandered up onto the ship. she wanted nothing more than to immediately shove the girl into the carbonite and keep her silent. but she knew that wouldn't end with a very pretty scene on serenno. if they were to return with the sole princess left, and the next heir to the throne since her own absence, she and mando would be in for a whirlwind of problems. serennian's aren't known for their kindness and their mercy. especially when it came to the already fragile system that was their new monarchy.

      "you ever been to serenno?" mando asked as the lot climbed up to the upper story of the ship, all walking into the cockpit.

      "no." she stated simply. if she talked too much, she knew that leta would pick up on her familiar tone. the melodic sounds of words and her accent.

     but knowing mando, he would make her life a living hell for the trip and actually talk to her. something she despised. it had only been a few days since the two began their travels together, and already, she hated being in the same room as him without grogu or something of similar interest to discuss. she wasn't sure what it was about him, he just rubbed her the wrong way. and she'd be damned if he would make conversation with her the one time she needed to be silent. because that's just who he was.

      "maker, you two should just have it out at one another with the amount of tension in this room." the princess huffed, readjusting her wrists in the shackles.

      both crewmates whipped out a blaster and pointed it at the girls head. neither seemed to be in much of a joking mood, especially when it came to something as outlandish as the two of them getting together in that way. typically, it wouldn't be too big of a deal. but there was truly just something about mando that made her want to shove his own beskar staff right up his behind. maybe it was their first interaction with one another, or their seemingly similar personality types. she wasn't sure. she just knew she'd never view him in that way.

       "alright let's relax there. wouldn't want whatever that womp rat thing is to see you two kill someone." she chidded, rolling her eyes.

        "he's seen worse." mando retorted, starting the ship. he fell silent after that, as if waiting for the insult from the masked girl to come flying back, "wow. now sarcastic comment. is this growth?"

       lowering her eyes beneath her goggles, she stood. her hands wrapped around grogu's torso and lifted the child from his carrier, tucking him into her side. sending a quick  middle finger to the back of mando's head, she left the cockpit without a single word. she wanted to give him a jab back, it pained her she couldn't. but she did have a fairly noticeable tone to her voice, one she was sure the princess would pick up on. five years, she had gone without a single scare of who she was coming to the surface. but the moment she becomes connected to the one and only mandalorian she had seen, things start popping up. the first being her sister, and she could only guess what would be next.

       "why don't we get you fed." she whispered when she was sure she was out of range of the others. she chuckled at the noises the child made in agreement with her statement, "what're we feeling today? portion bread?" she teased, grimacing at the idea of it. nodding at his obviously disgusted face, she turned back to the food storage, "how about some food rations?"

      with a grin in return from the child, she sat him down and took out the container, straining her ears to try and pick up if any conversation was happening in the cockpit. but with the hum of the razor crest and the distance, she knew it was a long shot. the thing that pulled her back, however, was the small tug on her thumb from the child, urging her to continue feeding him.

      "you're a needy little one aren't you buddy?"

-----

       she knew it wouldn't take too long to arrive on serenno. but the day it took wasn't enough to prepare her for what she was going to see. it wasn't much different from when she left, which may have been the thing that set her on edge the most. she wanted to see some sort of change, that her father may have taken her leaving as a wakeup call. to change the ways of the monarchy, and better the system. but instead, it was the same. same guards, same poverty issues. the same dictatorship her father had sworn to change when he created the new system.

       "you seem tense." mando stated, coming up behind the girl as she readjusted the light green cloak she would wear for the day, deciding the dark blue could cause a head or two to turn.

       "well I heard your voice and it ruined my day." she retorted simply, glancing over her shoulder at him, "how is she?"

      "surprisingly more enjoyable to sit in silence with than you." he quipped, closing the child's hatch and opening the ships.

      "mm maybe you should make her your partner then. would you pay her more?"

      "probably."

      "mee waba u two doe best." I wish you two the best, she remarked in huttese, winking at the taller man before pulling her goggles over her eyes, walking down the ramp with the child's carrier following close behind her.

      the air of serenno smacked her in the face like something from a nightmare. one of her reliving the days she would have while running through the trees after escaping from her father's intense control. the feeling of the soft land beneath her feet caused a wave of nausea to hit her like a train, knowing that she never planned on returning back to this place. she swore to live in isolation away from the horrid planet for the rest of her days. as far from the life of a royal as she could get, which is why she had landed in tatooine. but now...the same planet that had saved her, lead her right back home.

     "seem familiar?" the sick voice of leta cooed as she walked down the ramp, being led by the mandalorian, "you seem a bit awe struck." she tanted, chuckling as she grabbed at her blaster.

     "don't. you'll be executed if you kill her here." mando chidded, gesturing for her to follow him towards the large castle that stood at the top of the highest point in the planet.

     "mee'd prefer da than hearing cheekta speak." I'd prefer that than hearing her speak, she scoffed in huttese once more. hoping the foreign language would mask that of her typical voice and accent.

     "if you're going to keep speaking huttese I may just drop you off back on tatooine." mando threatened, earning a shrug from the girl. without another word from anyone, the three began their walk through the vast forest towards the large building.

     where hopefully, they'd have a peaceful drop off. but then again, when had she ever gotten what she wanted? from being an escaped royal, to landing on a burnt planet with a destroyed ship, and then being unable to properly make a life on the planet, and then being picked up by a mandalorian and having her sister pop up. and now, she was back on her home planet. somewhere where she had nightmares about. reliving the traumatic experiences she was forced to live through at a young age. the same traumatic events she found herself reliving any moment she could. because they hurt more than any wound she may have felt throughout those same years. or any hunger pain she felt on tatooine, struggling to help peli provide and live.

     so yeah, she wasn't expecting things to go well.

[shandidellamorte]

~Getting Off~

So heeeey remember when I said ‘how about another AU that nobody asked for’? It’s been in the back of my head for a while but I hadn’t found the proper pictures to motivate me. Now that I have..here it is! Enjoy, babies! <3

~Shandi

Paul discovers some..interesting things about himself when he accepts a ride from a handsome biker named Nikki Sixx~ {told from Paul’s POV}

My parents always told me. Stay away from bikers. They were violent. They were dangerous. Their influence corrupted anyone they came into contact with. But there was one thing dear old mom and dad never prepared me for. 

Good looking bikers. Really good looking. 

Honestly it’s a nightmare. It's bad enough I’ve been..questioning my preferences since I started high school. And now they’ve come into the picture. A group of..less academically inclined guys from school decided to get together and form a kind of biker gang. I’ve heard people talking about them more and more. In between classes. In the lunchroom. Outside the school. And once they decided on a name, the Motley Crue was all anyone talked about. Big deal. They were just a bunch of delinquents with affinities for leather and motorcycles. Nothing I should be fascinated with. Until I met Nikki Sixx. 

Nikki Sixx.

I just..can’t seem to get away from him no matter where I go.

He’s younger than me. He’s loud. He’s rude. He drinks. I’m pretty sure he sells drugs to other kids in school. He’s the sexiest guy you’ve ever seen~ He’s dangerous. I can’t allow myself to fall for him. I can’t. But you want to~ 

I try to avoid him whenever I walk home. Today..I’m not so lucky. He and the rest of his gang are out in front of the school sitting on their bikes, trying to get a group of girls to accept their offers for a ride. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what they’re really after. I scoff. At least they’re distracted though right? Makes it easier to get past them. So I take a deep breath and I start walking. The blond guy..I think his name is Vince. He’s a smooth talker. I’m sure he could get a girl to drop her panties on command. He has no trouble getting one of them to say yes. She climbs on his bike behind him and they ride off. I say a silent prayer for her. Almost there. Just a few steps more. I hold my notebooks tightly against my chest as I walk past him. Nearly there..and then.. “Hey~ Where ya goin’ pretty thing~?” 

Just keep walking. Don’t look back. Don’t answer him. “Aw c’mon! Just tryin’ to be friendly~” 

Sure you are. I'd be a fool to believe you. I hear an engine start. Is he going to come after me? Should I run? No..he’ll just chase me down! I don’t know what to do!

“Why ya runnin’ from me? Scared~?” 

YES!!

“L-leave me alone..” 

“What’s that? Can’t hear ya over my loud ass engine!!”

“I s-said..leave me alone!!” 

“Got a mouth on ya don’tcha? Is it that time of the month? I can try again in a few days~” He laughs as he turns his bike around and heads back. Jerk. He thinks you’re pretty~

~*~

The rest of the week is blessedly peaceful. I never expected him to actually keep his word. The week after however..he comes back at me full force. He tries to flirt with me while I’m taking books out of my locker. It’s so much harder when he’s so close. The look in his eyes. His smile. The smell of his leather. Those damn pants of his are so tight I can see..everything. Oh god why am I looking?! “I..I have to go..” 

“Take ya home later~?” 

I don’t answer. I just get away from him as quickly as possible. Damn he has beautiful eyes…

When the last bell rings I pick up my books and sigh. I have to be ready for him this time. I have to be firm with him or else he’ll walk all over me. Just accept his offer! It won’t kill you! Yes it will! Besides I only live a few blocks away from the school. I have no practical use for a ride. And what would my parents say?! You may not need a ride..but you want one. From him~ No!! I don’t like men that way!! Dammit I need to get out of my own head!! Maybe I should..call Gene when I get home and see if he wants to hang out for a while.. He’s good at taking my mind off..troubling things. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. I put my books into my bag and head out. 

All my hopes to avoid him are thrown completely out the window as soon as I leave. He’s sitting on his bike waiting for me right outside the door. “There you are~ Ready t’go?” 

“I…” 

C’mon..I’m not gonna bite ya..unless that’s what you’re in to~” 

Be firm! “Now you wait a minute! I never said yes!”

“You didn’t say no either~” 

He’s right~ I would have if he hadn’t frustrated me! “L-look..I don’t even live very far..so thank you for the offer..but no.” 

“All those books you’re carryin’ have got to be heavy..” 

He’s right again~ “I can handle them.” 

“But y’don’t have to. I’m right here.” 

“I…” Oh dammit..why does he have to have good points?! I can’t argue any further. He’s got me. I shake my head. “A-alright..fine.”

“Finally! Y’got some sense in that curly head after all!” He pats the seat behind him. “Hop on, pretty thing~” 

I roll my eyes. “I have a name. It’s Paul.”

“Pretty Paulie then~” 

What have I done..?

~*~

I admit it. I’m scared. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before..never even considered it. Especially not..with someone. I don’t even know if I can trust him. What if he..does something to me..? Hmph. Just let him try. It’s not like I can’t defend myself. Unless he..has a weapon..which he might. Why did I agree to this again? Oh yeah..these damn books that weigh a ton and are killing my back! I sigh and sit down behind him. This feels strange. I have never wanted to be this close to Nikki Sixx ever in my life. That’s a complete lie. You totally have~ He takes his helmet off the handlebar and hands it to me. “Take it. I’m sure it’ll make y’feel safer~” I doubt that. I’ve seen him drive this thing. But I take it anyway. Ugh this is going to murder my hair. 

The engine roars to life and he revs it a few times before speeding out of the parking lot. I immediately grab onto his waist. Why does he have to go so..fast?! He just laughs. “Easy there! You squeeze any harder you’re gonna make me pop!” That is not funny. This was such a mistake. “You gonna tell me where to go or what?” That’s..probably a thing I should do isn’t it? “Like I said I don’t live far. Just keep going down this street until you reach the park then take a right and my house is the fourth one down.” 

“Talk about boring. I’ll tell you what. I’m gonna take you home, you’re gonna drop off those fuckin’ books and then I’m gonna take ya for a real ride.”

“I’ve got homework to do!”

“That shit can wait!” 

“Listen here, Sixx..you may not care about your grades but I do!” 

“And when’s the last time you had any fun?” 

“....”

“That’s what I thought. Trust me, pretty Paulie..I’m gonna show ya a good time~” 

Is that a promise~? Shut up, brain..

So like the complete idiot I am, I do what he says. Once we pull up to my house I go inside, go up to my room, drop off my books.. Make yourself look prettier~ ..and head back out. He has such a smug look on his face..like he’s won some kind of prize. And it’s hot~ I just put the helmet back on and take my seat. Well..here goes nothing. “You better hold on tight baby..cause you’re goin’ for a hell of a ride~” Oh, he’ll go anywhere with you~ I grab his waist again as he revs the engine and takes off down the street. It’s quickly setting in that my life is now in Nikki Sixx’s hands. 

~*~

I still have no idea why I agreed to this. But..as I lay my head against Nikki’s back and watch the world fly by, so much of the fear I used to feel has gone away. He never does any stupid stunts. He actually looks out for the safety of his passenger. Maybe..he’s not so bad after all… The revs of the engine whenever he picks up speed trigger a sensation in me that I’ve never felt before. It’s like..a constant vibration directly between my legs..making me feel.. Aroused~?

Yes..that’s exactly the right word. 

The anticipation is there any time he stops at a light. I can’t wait to feel it again. It’s good..so damn good. I could.. Totally get off on this~ 

Dammit yes..!

I’m more relaxed now. I absently stroke his back and loosen my hold around his waist. “You finally gettin’ comfortable back there, baby~?” 

“Faster..”

“What’s that?” 

“Please..go faster..” That’s more like it~

“Heh..whatever you want~” 

He guns it, and the engine roars, sending a million jolts of pleasure through my body all at once. “Ohhh yes~!!” 

D-did I say that out loud..? I did. I can hear him laughing at me. I can already hear his friends laughing at me too once he tells them. “Damn, baby..is this gettin’ you hot~?”

Say yes~ “I-I…”

“Want me to do it again~?” 

Say yes!! “Y-yes..do it..” 

“Mm..anything to hear that again~” As he speeds up and drives the engine harder, it goes straight to my aching core. God I can’t take much more of this! I throw my head back and moan, making the helmet nearly fly off my head in the process. “Havin’ fun now, arent’cha baby~?” He pulls over onto an empty dirt road but keeps the engine going. That same smug look is on his face when he turns around to face me, pulling the helmet off of my head. “Wh-what are you doing..?” He takes me by the waist and pulls me closer. “I know you’re just seconds away from cumming. I’m not gonna let my bike do the job for me~” 

“Nikki..”

This is what you’ve wanted~

Once his lips are on mine..I can’t even force myself to argue with my brain anymore. It was right all along. Sorry, mom and dad..but I’ve got needs that only a biker can satisfy~

~END~

[losingmymindtonight]

Tony knowing Peter's order (coffee, ice cream, whatever) without having to ask

Peter really, really loved Friendly’s.

Like, really loved it.

Tony didn’t really know why, exactly. It wasn’t like he saw anything exceptional about a chain restaurant selling sub-par diner food. And yet, the kid’s face always lit up whenever they drove past one.

And that’s how Tony Stark found himself frequenting nearly every single Friendly’s on the drive from Midtown to the Tower.

It was their thing, a mode of unspoken communication. Peter would slip into his car, radiating the brand of exhaustion that only stems from some shitty high school drama, and Tony would wordlessly pull into the closest Friendly’s.

The kid was give him a tentative smile, and by the end of the meal, he’d be motor-mouthing his way through some random story. He couldn’t really tell if it was the food, or the atmosphere, or, and this was an option that he only dared to consider after Pepper pointed it out, Tony’s presence in and of itself.

He couldn’t help the hope that it was the latter. That the kid just enjoyed spending time with him.

But either way, Friendly’s belonged to Tony and Peter. It was their turf. A fail-safe place where Peter felt relaxed.

So when Rhodey practically demanded to meet the kid, Tony knew exactly where to take them.

“You can help me pick him up from school tomorrow.” Tony offered, pulling out his phone. “Then we can get some early dinner. Kid’s always half-starved by the last bell. They don’t feed him enough for lunch.”

“Weird that you know that, but sure.”

“Oi.” He shot a glare at the other man. “Do you wanna meet the kid or not?”

“Oh, I wanna meet the kid.” Rhodey smiled at him in a way that made his next words seem a lot less sincere. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Sure you do.”

He opened Peter’s messages and shot him a quick text. Kid deserved a fair warning, after all.

TS: Mind having an after school snack with Rhodey tomorrow? He’s dying to meet you.

It took the teenager all of five seconds to reply.

Kids these days.

PP: mr. rhodes??? yes!!! yes yes yes!!! !!!

God, he really hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

Peter slid into the back of the Audi with a shaky smile on his face. Tony gave him what he hoped was a calming glance before pulling out of the pick-up line and onto the road.

“Hey, Pete.”

Rhodey blinked at the nickname, then added his own greeting. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”

“H-Hi Mister Rhodes, Sir. I, uh, I’m, well I’m Peter. But you… already knew that cause you said my name, so…”

The Colonel chuckled, glancing at Tony. “Do you really scare the kid that much?”

“He doesn’t scare me!” Peter blushed at his outburst, shyly dropping his eyes to his knees. “I-I mean, I, uh, I just…”

“He stutters when he’s nervous.” Tony switched lanes and glanced at Peter fondly in the rear-view mirror. “He’ll get over it in a second, don’t worry.”

Peter blinked. “I-I don’t, I don’t stutter, Mister Stark.”

“Sure ya don’t, kiddo.” He took note of how red the poor kid’s face was and sighed. “Take a breath. You’re alright. I promise that Rhodey’s entirely un-threatening.”

“I’m not nervous.”

Teenagers: the most stubborn brand of humans on the planet.

“Mhm.”

“I’m not.”

“I heard you the first time.”

Rhodey intercepted the conversation with a strange look in his eyes. Tony tried not to dwell on it. “So, Peter, got any plans after high school?”

Smooth one, Rhodes.

The kid blinked. “I mean, uh, college? Engineering. P-Probably something biochemical. B-But Mister Stark thinks I should do electrical.”

“That’s because he did electrical.” Rhodey nudged his friend’s elbow. “He’s biased.”

“Oi,” Tony shot back, “don’t tell me you wouldn’t be trying to recruit him for the military if you’d seen him in action. Kid’s brilliant.”

Peter flushed again. “Mister Stark.”

“Don’t ‘Mister Stark’ me. It’s true.”

Rhodey twisted in his seat as best he could, braces whirring. Tony caught him winking at Peter out of the corner of his eye. “So tell me, kid, ever thought about serving your country?”

“No.” He didn’t mean for his voice to come out so firm, but the concept of Peter in an active war zone made his heart swoop down to his feet. “Hands off, Rhodey. Get your impressionable youth somewhere else.”

“Oh I’m sorry, Tones,” his best friend stared directly at him, a contemplative look on his face, “didn’t mean to rob your nursery.”

Oh, yeah, Tony thought, I’m definitely going to regret this.

Peter’s face lit up when they pulled up by one of their usual haunts. As soon as they were out of the car, Rhodey dropped back to Tony and nudged him in the side.

“Friendly’s?” Thankfully, the Colonel saw Peter’s excitement and had the good grace to whisper. “Really?”

“He loves them.” He shot him a look. “Don’t ruin it.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of Rhodey’s lips as Peter practically skipped through the doors. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Their waitress was a friendly older lady who seemed to have no idea who Tony was. She led them to their table, and Tony pushed Peter into the booth first, eyeing the closest exits silently.

He always put Peter farthest from the door, in whichever spot had the most immediate cover. And today, since Rhodey was here, he could use himself as a human shield.

He’d be between Peter and anything dangerous. Good. That’s exactly how he wanted it to be.

They ordered their drinks and sat quietly for a second. Rhodey seemed to be silently contemplating him and Peter, much to the kid’s obliviousness.

Tony, meanwhile, watched the kid fidget for all of three minutes before sighing heavily and sliding out of the booth.

“Go on, kid.”

Peter just looked at him. “What?”

“Don’t act like I can’t tell you need to pee, bud. So go.”

Tony set an internal reminder to let the kid do something very unstressful when they got back to the Tower. He could practically taste his anxiety. “I-I’m good, Mister, uh, Mister Stark.”

“Go, Pete.”

The kid relented, awkwardly shuffling away while running a nervous hand through his hair.

Rhodey had half-opened his mouth to speak when the waitress returned, setting their drinks down and addressing them with a too-bright smile.

“Are you ready to order?”

Rhodey glanced at Peter’s empty seat. “Actually, I think we’ll need-”

Tony, however, was already gathering up their menus from the suspiciously sticky table. “We’re ready.”

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t protest.

The waitress pulled out her pen and flipped her order pad to a fresh page. “Would you like any starters?”

“The mini mozzarella sticks, please.” Tony smothered a stupid smile at the memory of Peter stacking them into a small tower.

“And what else can I get you?”

“I’ll get the Reuben.” He gestured to the empty spot beside him. “The kid’ll have chicken tenders with fries, and a grilled cheese.”

The waitress laughed a little. “Big appetite, huh?”

Tony shot her a charismatic smile. “Oh, you’ve got no idea.”

She straightened, a wave of motherliness swooping over her face. “Kid’s are like that, huh? But we love ‘em anyway.”

He bit his lip briefly before shrugging, passing his and Peter’s menus into her outstretched hand. “Sure do.”

She gave him another gentle smile before redirecting her attention to Rhodey. “And for you, Sir?”

He seemed to flail for a minute, still blindsided by Tony’s easy agreement. Then, he shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh. “I’ll, uh, I’ll just have the All-American Burger.”

“Lovely.” She flipped her pad shut. “It’ll be out shortly. Oh,” she shot Tony a wink, “and be sure to flag me down again when your youngster demands his ice cream.”

Tony winked back, enjoying the way it seemed to further his best friend’s slow decent into madness. “I will.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Rhodey fixed him with a serious stare. “Holy shit, Tones. The kid’s, what, thirteen?”

“He’s fifteen. We picked him up from a high school, Rhodes. Get your math straight.”

“Like I know what age kids are in high school these days.” After a moment’s hesitation, the man pressed on. “You shouldn’t, either, by the way.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Tony Stark.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “So, spill. How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“About Peter.” Rhodey gestured at the faded backpack sitting by Tony’s feet. “Why didn’t the mother come clean when he was born? Or did she, and have you been hiding it this whole time?”

Suddenly, his best friend’s thought process dawned on him. “He’s not mine, Rhodey. Jesus. Not biologically, anyway.”

“You know his order, Tony. That waitress just insinuated that he was yours and you didn’t correct her.”

He sighed, already tired by the conversation. “He’s not mine.”

The Colonel didn’t look convinced. “Then what is this?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, alright? It’s just… the kid’s my responsibility.”

“Why in the world would he be-”

“Hey, Mister Stark.”

Tony shot Rhodey a look that clearly conveyed a message of shut it, and slid out of the booth to let Peter in. “Hey to you too, kiddo. Enjoy yourself?”

The kid scrunched up his face. “That’s gross.”

He laughed, ruffling his hair a bit as they settled back into their seats. “So, tell Rhodey and I about school today. Learn anything groundbreaking?”

“It’s high school, Mister Stark. I can’t think of anything less groundbreaking than high school.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” He smirked. “Guess I’ll have to teach you something revolutionary in the lab to day, as compensation.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter gazed up at him with adoring eyes. “What?”

“Dunno.” He forced himself not to shift under the weight of trust he could see on the kid’s face. “I’ll think of it on the spot.”

They were interrupted by their waitress setting down a plate of mozzarella sticks at the center of the table.

“Oh, cool!” Peter popped one into his mouth, then winced when it burned. Tony just rolled his eyes and shoved his lemonade into his hand. “Did you order while I was gone?”

“Yep. Don’t worry. I got you your chicken tenders.”

“Mm.” He smiled brightly as soon as he’d swallowed his mouthful of stringy cheese. “I knew you would.”

He elbowed him in the side, careful to be gentle despite the kid’s super strength. “You want ice cream after?”

Somehow, no matter how much Tony spoiled Peter, every new offer lit up in his eyes like starlight. “Can I?”

He gave Peter a fond smile, the one that he never seemed capable of replicating when the kid was absent, forgetting all about Rhodey’s watchful gaze. “Of course, buddy.”

“Awesome!” Peter broke one of the mozzarella sticks in half. “Are you gonna get some, too?”

If he was being honest, he didn’t really want ice cream. But he also knew that Peter would feel more comfortable asking for it if Tony did too, so ice cream it was. “Duh.”

One glance at Rhodey affirmed that he’d be going through some rigorous questioning later.

But than again, he’d sit through a thousand interrogations if he could make Peter smile like that again.

He blinked at the thought.

Damn it. I’m in deep, aren’t I?

[chrysolina]

Our chance

Ask - @glitterquadricorn Can I request something? I want one with chris evans and a baby. Maybe his wife telling him that they're finally pregnant after a couple of years of trying. Him with babies makes my heart flutter!

Gurll you and me both!! Here it is, I hope you like it 💕💗

Summary - after years of being unsuccessful in stating a family, maybe your chance to have one was over..or is it?

Pairing - Chris Evans x reader

Warnings - brief SMUT (18+), crying, floof

M A S T E R L I S T

The quiet lull of the passing cars echoed around the silent, sleepy private estate in Sudbury, every house in the exclusive estate dead silent with the promise of sleep for every individual - all but one house.

The grandest house in the estate - the Evans house - wasn’t lit up with the signs of life but within the house, nobody was sleeping. The sounds of grunts, heavy moaning and skin slapping against skin reverberated around the house, as muffled at it may be, it was still loud enough to hear.

The two of you had lost all sense of discreetness and mindfulness for poor Dodger after round two and were still going at it like animals. On what could’ve easily been round five or six even, you felt that tight bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach unravel for the sixth time tonight and begged Chris with his release by slamming your ass into his thrusts and tightening your pussy around his incredible length.

To your pleasure, Chris thrust his hips into yours a final few times and gave you his release at the same time as yours, stuffing your already overfilled pussy with his cum again, begging it worked this time.

The two of you were indeed very eager to start a family of your own after seeing so many of your friends and family with their own bundles of joy. Both yours and Chris’ parents didn’t help either wondering if you were considering giving them more grandchildren and were always keen to praise yours and Chris’ natural parental ways whenever the time came up.

After a long talk on your honeymoon, you and Chris decided that after a year of work and finishing filming projects off, you’d start trying to conceive.

That was three years ago and you still had not one positive pregnancy test to this day.

You spoke about everything with your trusted GP, who only reassured you these things are temperamental and take time. She even checked your insides to see if everything was in order - and it was.

After another year of intermittent trying and no luck, you went to her that same morning, asking for anything you could take or do to help the process along. She understood your feelings of disappointment on a personal level and prescribed you a small packet of fertility pills that’d help boost your fertility - only for a maximum of seven to eight days.

As soon as you got out of the clinic and back in your car, you rang and told your husband about the pills - asking for his opinion on whether you should have them - he agreed profusely and suggested you take one straight away.

He didn’t warn you, however, of how well he‘d test the pill once he got home.

The pasta bake you made that night wasn’t touched; Chris didn’t bother eating that night instead he kissed you passionately, hauled you over his shoulder and ran upstairs to bedroom, a raging boner painfully straining his boxers. And that’s where you spent the rest of the night.

To take extra precautions, before allowing you to cuddle to sleep Chris ran to the drawer, pulled out his favourite butt-plug and shoved it snug in your pussy to almost guarantee conception. Believing he did a good job, he cleaned you up and joined you under the covers holding you close as the two do you fell into a warm slumber.

You woke the next morning with an incredibly well sculpted chest littered with little dark hairs in your face. Instead of the usual morning kiss, you chose to trace patterns all over Chris’ chest with your fingers, ghosting maticulously over certain areas like Chris’ tattoos.

A rough grunt resonated around your bedroom and quickly found your face smooshed into Chris’ chest, his large hands snaking around your shorter frame welcomely.

“G’morning handsome,” you sighed dreamily at your snoozing husband and popped you head up to look at the sleeping beauty himself. ‘Too dreamy to be real’ you thought to yourself. Chris only hummed in return and placed his hand suspiciously over your lower stomach, as if he was...cradling it.

“Chris, what are you doing?” You sighed with deep suspicion laced in your morning voice.

“M��nothin..just saying good morning to my two favourite people..” your breath caught in your throat and his touch on your stomach suddenly felt more sensitive and warm at the hint of conception, but you laughted it off as shock.

“Ha, ha..very funny Chris” you rolled your eyes at him, not knowing he was watching from one slightly open eye, smirking incredibly smugly at your faithless response. You may not had believed him but Chris was, if not 100% certain something had happened last night. He could just feel it.

The rest of that week consisted of relaxing, catching up with old friends and walking dodger around the local parks and trails. Since you rarely got to have this amount time off as an actress, you relished in the change of pace even if it was without Chris.

It wasn’t until one night after having a takeout curry you quickly began to feel unwell. Your stomach felt like it had been punched from the inside out several times and your curry and naan bread were gonna make a reappearance pretty promptly.

You bolted to the downstairs toilet and threw up the contents of your stomach quicker than you could comprehend, leaving a very confused Dodger alone on the couch.

The trips to the toilet became more and more frequent as the days went on and you couldn’t stand it much longer. Chris had been in Atlanta for a week doing final touches to a film out there and you were all alone heaving your stomach up.

You couldn’t bring your teary self to call Chris, you knew that he’d bolt straight home to be with his wife, you also knew how important his job was and instead of being the incredibly inconvenient wife of major actors you stayed calm and quiet. For his and your own sake.

The sickness lasted for another three days, to your great discomfort. To your shock, you also found that your favourite lace bra’s were becoming more snug and sensitive as the days went on, not to mention the bouts of fevers you’d been experiencing.

There was only one explanation left in your mind as you drove to the nearest 7/11 early one morning and picked up three different pregnancy tests, all varying in prices and specific jobs. You discreetly paid for the items and drove back to your loved home, quickly greeting dodger and hurried to open up all three, reading through each instruction manual carefully.

You were halfway through reading the sticks when you heard your phone go off, someone had text you. To your surprise, Chris had text telling you he’d be back by this evening and that he couldn’t wait to see you. ‘What a man’ you smiled to yourself and bolted back to the bathroom to pee on those sacred sticks.

What could’ve been the longest four minutes of your life, the timer on your phone went off and you ran to the bathroom to see what the sticks read, Dodger eagerly dashing behind you too. Closing your eyes, you grabbed the sticks messily and peaked at them with one eye open, the other eye flying open in shock.

‘Positive’

‘Positive’

‘2 weeks pregnant.’

Fuck, it was finally happening. You were pregnant.

The barrelling shock that you had a life, a baby inside of you knocked the wind out of you causing you to sit on the toilet seat shaking on shock. This was it, you were finally going to be a parent and Chris would be.. “CHRIS!” You yelped out and rose to your feet, stumbling through the bathroom back to the living room.

‘What do I tell him? How do I tell him? What time is he coming home?’ You were quick to text a response back to Chris, wishing him a good flight and asking what time he’d be home - to which he replied ‘5pm sharp, can’t wait to see you babygirl (; x’. You giggled knowingly at his tone and set about thinking of how you’ll break the news.

Ideas evaded your mind for a solid hour at least. You paced the whole length of the house twice and even took to sitting out in your backyard pool, your feet absentmindedly sifting through the cool turquoise waters for longer than you imagined. You were running out of options until an idea struck your mind - the perfect lightbulb moment.

You locked Dodger up in the house and dashed off to the nearest Toys-R-Us incognito-style and bought a white-cream baby-grow with the words ‘my daddy is the best in the world’ - it was cheesy, yes; but it got the message through. You paid for it and left quietly, returning home to wrap up the gift and make a nice homecoming meal for your beloved husband.

As by his word, Chris’ voice echoed from the front door at exactly five o’clock and you hurried down the stairs with his gift swaddled up in a beautiful white box and bow clutched tight to your chest, the slight rattling from inside made you squirm uncomfortably.

“God I missed you Y/N,” he sighed lovingly and yanked you into his arms, the gift placed gently on the hillside by yourself as you got embraced by Chris.

Before you could welcome him back, his lips found yours in a smouldering and sobering kiss and quickly brought you back to reality. “Mm honey, I got you a present..you might..” he chased your lips and met them again in a smiled kiss. “You might want to sit down to open,” you pulled yourself out of his grip and picked up the present, holding it out to Chris giddily.

“What is it, baby?” He looked you suspiciously, dropped his suitcase handle and bags and took the box off you. Tentatively he unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box up, only to find a pile of tissue in his face.

“Just open it Chris,” you whined with a grin and continued to watch him get to the bottom of the box and pull out he baby-grow. “What’s this?” He placed the box down with a rattle and unfolded the baby-grow. “my daddy is the best in the...world...” Chris stopped and looked to you with tears welling in his eyes. “You’re not..?”

You nodded to the box with as much of a tight-lip you could muster. He dug under another pile of tissue and tears began to roll down his face once he reached the bottom of the box. There they were, three positive pregnancy tests staring right at him.

A strangled cry of your name passed his lips and in an instant Chris was hugging you with all his might, sobbing softly into your hair.

The similar happy tears you’d concealed had finally come to pass and you found yourself crying into his soft t-shirt, your hands clinging on for dear life.

“You’re really..we-we’re gonna..” you beamed into his shirt.

“Yes Chris, we’re gonna be parents.” You squealed as he lifted you into his arms, your lefts immediately locking around his tiny waist. Hot wet lips immediately found your own in a searing exchange, an unknown promise tangled up in the kiss. “Thank you Y/N/N..” Chris sighed into your neck and sucked on the crook of your neck tenderly.

“No Chris.. thank you, for everything.”

[resetmypatientviolence]

Call Me Walker (Drake x MC)[NSFW]

Note: I apologize for the angst I’ve been putting out. To remedy this, please enjoy some pure af FLUFF & SMUT (Flut? Sluff?) of Drake x Jaela as they deserve some happiness in one of their many AU’s they can exsist in outside of the Supposed To Be series. This is directly inspired by this post by @lilywoood.

Word Count: 2,204

Pairing: Drake x Jaela

Rating: M

Warnings: Some smut, nothing crazy. Lots of fluff.

Summary: “Is Drake going to call us Walker after we marry him or is he going to call MC by her name?” - @lilywoood

Suggested Song Accompaniment: The Walker-- Fitz and The Tantrums (just cause)

“Drake, no, I’m serious. This is a serious question,” Jaela says, leaning over the bar, unable to keep a straight face. Drake laughs, pushing hair out of her face, fingers trailing down her cheek. His face is red from whiskey and laughter of the night.             

“You can’t be serious, Abdi. What kind of question is that, even?” Jaela sips whiskey, leaning forward even more. She smirks when Drake’s gaze falls to her chest and he groans under his breath. That and he’s putty in her hands.

She reaches and grabs his hand, her engagement ring flashing under the dive bars warm light. The music is loud, but all she focuses on, as always, is Drake. “I am. What are you going to call me when we’re married? Walker? Abdi?” 

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes, just like she likes. The bartender makes a drink behind her. He doesn’t mind; or at least he didn’t tell Drake or Jaela that he didn’t. They’re always here after all. It’s their spot in Cordonia, when they could finally have their spot. “You know, I haven’t thought about it much.”             

Jaela clicks her whiskey-laced tongue, eyes glittery with intoxication. “Oh, just like you weren’t thinking about anything the night of the Ball?” She jokes, but her smile falters. The Homecoming Ball. The night she thought he lost him, forever. “Sorry…”    

  Drake shakes his head and squeezes her hand, sipping the last of his whiskey. “Well… I was lying then. But now…” Drake’s thumb runs over his grandmother’s ring, a perfect fit on her finger. Jaela still didn’t—couldn’t—believe it. “You’re still going to be Abdi, Abdi.”          

“And Walker,” she corrects, walking back around to sit next to him at the bar, pulling the stool and nearly sitting on his lap. Drake sucks in a breath, eyebrow raised. She grips his knee, drawing circles on it. “Duchess Jaela Abdi-Walker of Valtoria… has a nice ring to it, huh?”           

 “Oh, very. Maybe except for the Duchess part… but I’ll manage.” Drake pulls her into a kiss, nipping her red lower lip, sending shivers up and down. Right when he deepens it, Jaela’s hand sneaking up his thigh—their telltale sign that it’s time to go home and to the bed, or table, or shower… or bar… the door slams open and Maxwell’s voices rings out. Together, they groan, brown eyes opening at the same time, lips still locked.             

“Called it!”            

Drake and Jaela separate, smiles returning as Maxwell, Hana, Liam, and Olivia surround them. Hana immediately loops an arm through Jaela’s. “Hmm… that obvious where we’d go?” Jaela says, standing up and straightening out her dress, stumbling in her heels for a second. It was only three glasses… after all that champagne….           

 “Just a bit,” says Liam. “It did take a while to realize you two had disappeared from your own rehearsal dinner without Bastien noticing, somehow.”  

“I’m even impressed,” Olivia says, interlocking her hand with Liam, hip popped.

Jaela smirks and locks eyes with Drake, her fiancé. Husband, tomorrow. They both knew a wedding of this scale would be all too much—but promised each other from the start that they’d find times to make it their own. Escaping the rehearsal dinner, barely keeping their clothes on in an alley, and settling in at their bar was one of the many moments stolen and secured for their enjoyment and joyous memories of their time planning their wedding.             

“Now… you know tradition… it’s time to get you two to bed.” Jaela rolls her eyes as Hana and Olivia lead her away, stealing one glace at Drake, bartender already preparing three glasses of whiskey for the boys.             

“Since when have we been traditional now, Hana?” Jaela giggles and trips, still looking back at Drake. Olivia rolls her eyes and loops her arm with Jaela’s. 

“Hana, you’re on water duty this time. This night is not going to be a repeat of the bachelorette party.”            

“Night, Abdi,” he says, holding a glass high. Jaela beams, blowing him a kiss, blushing like she did the first time he called her that—though that might have been from anger. She can’t remember anymore, but that doesn’t matter.            

Tomorrow she marries Drake Walker. 

*            

“Say it.”            

“Say what?”            

“Oh, you ass!” Jaela laughs, shoving Drake in bed. They’re tangled up the white sheets; dawn peeks over the horizon, light pink and blue and perfect and she can’t believe it’s morning after their wedding. She’s tired, but her eyes are still bright. Maybe they’re both a little whiskey drunk from their sleepless night.

  Drake grins and rolls on top of her, pinning her wrists down. Her smile falls and she bites her lip, warmth and chills running through her at the same time. He, however, doesn’t lose the smile. “Hmm… what was your question, Abdi?” He kisses her neck and she groans. His naked body is warm—and marked with her bruises from the night—and his lips are trailing soft kisses exactly where she likes them.             

“I don’t think I asked a question…” she murmurs, capturing his lips once they reach her jaw. A hand frees her wrist, running down her curves, squeezing the flesh, fingertips kneading, until he grips her thigh and hitches it up, Jaela gasping in surprise. They deepen their kiss, biting and sucking on each other’s lips, sloppy then expert, hips rolling, but not touching—only teasing of what to come. Finally, her free hand grips his hair, pulling his head back. She’s breathless and so is he.             

“Again?” She licks her lips, anticipation building the longer they stare. He nods, going for another kiss, hip thrusting, but Jaela moves her leg, brushing against his hardness. Drake gasps, nearly losing grip of her thigh. “Mm, but first—”       

She easily pushes him over, straddling his waist in seconds, hands on his chest, nails pressing. She hovers over him, smirking. Oh, she wants him. Her core is burning, breathing unsteady the longer she draw this out. His eyes darken with desire. “You’re killing me Abdi.”            

Raising an eyebrow, she runs her nails down his chest, Drake sucking in a breath. “Call me Walker.” She lowers, slightly, but enough to feel him brush against her. They shudder together—she can barely keep it together, but she needs to win this battle… somehow.             

Drake takes her hands in his, supporting her. “You’re such a tease, you know that,” he whispers, looking her up and down. He licks his lips in his pause, eyes flashing before he grips her hips, Drake and Jaela meeting each other at the same time. “Walker.”

 *            

She likes the social engagements far more than he does, but Jaela can’t help but think some of him rubbed off on her. To be fair, they’d been married only but a month. She still wants to be locked up in their cabin like they were two weeks ago, but duty calls.             

Jaela sips her drink, eyes darting around the ballroom. Hadn’t she done enough mingling? Where was Drake? Enough reasonable time had passed where they could slip out and not be noticed.             

“Walker,” says a voice in the crowd, but she just sips her drink again, leaning against the wall, royal blue dress brushing the floor. “Walker,” it repeats and Jaela finishes her drink.             

“My god, Walker.” Drake’s breath in her ear makes Jaela jump, nearly dropping the glass.             

“Shit, Drake! You scared me!”            

He laughs, winding an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “I thought you liked it when I called you Walker, Abdi.” Jaela cracks a giddy smile, like she always does, whenever he says it. Her heart flutters, pressing her leg on his inner thigh. Drake downs the rest of his whiskey.             

“Oh, you know I do. Still have to get used to it. Took me a while for you when you called me Abdi.” She rests her head on his shoulder, looking out at the people, all the nobles. Somehow, two commoners became Duke and Duchess of Valtoria. The Walker’s. A pleasant chill ran through her.             

“Heh. Knew you always hated it at first.”            

“Hate? Nah,” she says, turning to face him, a devilish smile on her lips. She grips his tie. He gulps. “Made me want to get to know the man who refused to call me by my name. You have horrible deflection skills, you know that, Walker?” Their lips are a hair apart, pupils dilated. Out of the corner of her eye, Jaela notices Liam shaking his head.             

“Yes, but thankfully, I have better sneaking the hell out of here skills.” Now, their lips are brushing together.             

“Mm, that you do.” Jaela’s tongue flicks out, touching his lips. A small moan escapes from his throat, Jaela feeling him grow against her leg.            

 “The secret passage?”           

 “If we can wait that long, Walker.”

*            

Jaela strokes her daughter’s hair, the three-year-old curled in her bed, sound asleep. Drake, carefully, puts away the book they read to her that night. He reaches the doorway and shuts the light off, the only light coming from the night light, shaped like a fairy princess in the corner.             

Holding her breath, Jaela tiptoes out of the room, filled with everything imaginable and more for her. Drake shuts the door, both letting out a breath. It was the nightly routine, made better when they both could be at home, but it only worked half the time. Typically she’d cry out and demand they read her another story, and so forth. Tiring, but worth it.             

“She’s getting better at that,” Drake says, picking Jaela up and carrying her to the living room. She stifles a giggle, arms securely around him as he whisks her away.             

“It’s cause she’s growing up, but you won’t seem to acknowledge that.”            

“Ah, no. She ain’t growing up, ever.”            

“Just think of the day we don’t have to deal with Dr. Seuss ever again.” 

“The Cat in the Hat is a masterpiece, Abdi.” Jaela rolls her eyes and he sets her down on the couch, the sun sinking low, twilight at hand. She looks outside, smiling. The forest looks stunning. Life is beautiful. Perfect. 

She picks up a book from the coffee table, pausing to look at her wedding band. How far they’ve come in six years… and how much more to go. Drake returns, two whiskeys in hand. Jaela shakes her head, holding up her water.

“Not tonight, I’ve got that meeting early, remember?” Drake shrugs, setting the second glass on the coffee table and sitting down, picking her legs up to rest on his.

“Can’t complain. I’d rather sit here longer with you, anyways, Walker.” A familiar smile curves on her lips. Every time he says it, Walker, her heart soars. He matches her expression, their eyes locked, lost in the moment. Sure, she’s called Duchess Abdi-Walker, sometimes just Abdi or just Walker by others—but nothing gives her the greatest pleasure than hearing that name off of Drake’s lips, taking her back to their wedding day. Crowded—too crowded—with nobles but she doesn’t remember that. All she does remember is the first time he called her Walker, whispering it the second after they kissed, husband and wife. She loves him so, still. And more, everyday. 

Jaela removes her glasses, a new feature of her thirties, eyebrow raised. “You know what Lia called me today?” Drake sips the whiskey, a smirk on his lips.  “Don’t you look at me like that!” she laughs, playfully poking his stomach with her foot.

 “Okay, okay… what did she call you?” 

“Abdi!” Drake laughs, loud, then covers his mouth, glancing down the long hall towards her room. Jaela snorts, grinning, eyes bright. He lowers his hand, smiling wide too and rests a hand on her ankle, thumb rubbing against the bone.

 “Okay… that might be my fault there. This time. Her learning how to climb counters was all you.”

She waves a hand, heart swelling the more she looks at him. “Pst. That was one time. She’s just smart.” Jaela bites her lip, locking eyes with Drake, a smile that she kept trying to contain for the past week breaking through. “All I’m saying is… you’ve got to be careful. I don’t want our kids calling me Abdi or Walker in public.”

First, he does nothing. Then, Jaela sets her book on the floor as the realization dawns on him. “Did you say kids?” He nearly spills the whiskey and they scramble to meet each other on the couch, faces in each others hands. There are tears in both of their eyes as Drake stares, jaw dropped. “You’re?”

She nods and they kiss, Drake pulling her close, arms tight around each other, lost in the world of joy. Of growth. Of love. Finally, they separate, Drake nearly speechless. Jaela wipes away his tears.

“Just a few weeks,” she whispers. “But I’ve got an appointment in the morning. I’ve already made sure you were free. You wanna see our baby tomorrow?”

Before he could answer, hand already on her stomach, a door opens and there’s a pattering of feet. They pull apart, smiles contagious. Tenderly, Drake kisses her cheek as Lia draws closer. “It’s your turn tonight, Walker.”

[janeofcakes]

Chapter 78

**I’m back! And here’s another chapter for y’all.**

(Two days later and John is scheduled to go home the next day. While he has been dying to go home to familiar surroundings and his own clothes, his own things and the life he shares with Sherlock, his thoughts are also full of nervous energy. He and Sherlock have spent a significant amount of time in his hospital room, readjusting to one another. In fact, Sherlock has seldom left his side - talking, laughing, bouncing ideas off one another. It’s been wonderful. Sherlock told him about Jim’s plan to explode Mycroft and a piece of Parliament along with him in more detail than Jim gave him, as well as other foiled schemes. He stops every so often and worries that he is talking too much, but John always assures him that he is talking the perfect amount. Each time, Sherlock smiles shyly and blushes and kisses John softly.

Sherlock catches him up on Mrs. Hudson, who has caught him up on Sherlock in return during her visits. Even though it was clearly a very difficult time for his flatmate, Mrs. Hudson manages to put a positive spin on every story and John can’t help but smile because she sounds much like she is talking about a son, not just a tenant. Likewise, John smiles during Sherlock’s stories when he refers to Greg and Molly with more friendship and affection. He rarely mentions Mycroft and, even though they were not on particularly good terms before the kidnapping, John is certain something happened between them while he was away. He makes a note to himself to ask Sherlock about it at some point.

In any case, the sum total of his days in hospital have assured John that he and Sherlock will be just fine when he moves back in. Better than fine. Being with Sherlock is not what worries him. It’s BEING with Sherlock that troubles him. They have shared many kisses and touches over the last few days, some quite heated, but they have not gone beyond a certain point. John has been shirtless the whole time and Sherlock has touched him, but has not ventured passed his belly. Even that has been hesitant, and any lower is off limits.

This is both a relief and cause for concern to John. First, while he definitely wants Sherlock to touch him and fully intends to have sex with him again in the future, he does not want to now. The fact that Sherlock is clearly more than willing to give him all time he needs is a comfort. However, John has no idea when he will be ready to resume a proper physical relationship and, as patient as Sherlock can be, he can also be a brat. How long will the man be able to wait? What if he gets tired and wants out? Suppose he brings home another man some night to make his point. God, that would kill John. He knows he should just talk to Sherlock about it, but that makes him nervous too. So, he keeps all of his feelings to himself and muddles through.

John sits silently in the hospital bed, gazing at the wall across the room without seeing it. His eyes are wide and a few small steps from panic. It is early afternoon. Sherlock left nearly an hour earlier after they finished eating lunch. He was somewhat vague about what he was up to, but John knows it has something to do with the flat. Perhaps he feels obliged to tidy it before John’s return. Whatever it is, John is thinking about being back home now and his mind is charging full-on into every fear of what could happen.

While he may be, in many ways, scared out of his mind, John is frustrated. He has never been one to panic, has always been solid as a rock and calm under pressure. Even before all the catastrophe that is war, John was well prepared for stress. Being a combat medic only solidified his resolve. So what the fuck is wrong with him? He has never worried like this. He has always taken things as they come and look at him now.

He knows the answer, of course. So does Sherlock. That’s why neither of them has said anything about it directly. PTSD.)

G: Hey.

(John jumps in surprise and nearly tumbles from the bed. Greg rushes to his aid.)

G: Shit! Sorry. I didn’t realize you were that distracted. I mean, I could tell you were thinking, but…

J: No trouble. It’s nothing. I was just...somewhere else, I guess. (clapping his hands on his thighs) So, what’s up?

G: Mm. (with a knowing look) I had some time and thought I’d pop in. See how you’re doing.

J: You heard I’m going home tomorrow.

G: Yep. You’re nervous?

J: Is it that obvious?

G: I wasn’t made detective inspector for nothing.

J: (with a little laugh) Right.

G: You wanna talk about it?

(John looks at him hesitantly. He’s not sure how to explain or even where to begin. Greg just waits, looking at him with kind, brown eyes.)

J: You have to understand. I have no idea how I’ll react. It was a disaster last time. I could’ve killed him so many times and this was for so much longer and was so much worse.

(Greg nods thoughtfully.)

J: He’s been nothing but understanding. I just don’t know...  I’m afraid I’ll punch him in the throat the first time his hand strays below the waist.

G: I see where you’re coming from. After your last experience, it makes sense that you’d feel this way. (John looks at him expectantly, seeing that he isn’t finished. He continues with the most genuine expression John has ever seen on him.) Honestly, John, that’s not what I see.

(Greg scoots his chair closer to the bed and leans in as if to emphasize his words.)

G: Your demeanor is nothing like it was last time. There’s no comparison. You’re not afraid to touch Sherlock and you don’t hesitate for a moment to let him touch you. You shared a very intimate moment in front of me, Molly, and Mycroft. Bloody Mycroft! And didn’t give a rat’s ass.

J: (looking pensive) Okay, so maybe it is different somehow, but I don’t know that any of it means the nightmares won’t start. That I won’t start to pull away again.

G: How does that make you feel?

J: You sound like my old therapist.

(Greg shrugs and revises the question.)

G: How does he make you feel?

(The words spill from John’s mouth before he can even think about them.)

J: Free. Like I’m home. I feel safe in his arms and I don’t want to be anywhere else.

(Greg has a pleasant and surprised smile on his lips when John’s mouth snap shut in embarrassment. The doctor’s cheeks flush pink when he sees his friend’s face and he looks away, then back. A moment of silent understanding passes between them. So absorbed in this wordless communication are they that they are both startled when the door to the room flies open and a certain tall consulting detective strides in.)

S: I’m sorry I’m late. I wanted...Greg. I didn’t know you would be here.

G: (standing) I thought I’d pay John a visit and congratulate him on going home tomorrow, but I was just on my way. If you two need anything, please let me know.

J & S: (talking over one another) Thank you. Thanks, Greg.

(Sherlock turns his head toward John and smiles. He quickly removes his coat and scarf and sits in the chair Greg just vacated.)

S: As I was saying, I meant to be back earlier, but I wanted everything to be ready at home and it took longer than I expected. I should have called you.

J: It’s fine. (sighing and taking the man’s larger hands in his own) But we do need to talk before tomorrow.

(Sherlock steels himself for what is to come, for the worst possible circumstance. While John has been very receptive to him, he knows it guarantees nothing and he can see in John’s eyes that something is troubling him. His next words come out as more of a statement than question.)

S: About the events of the last 65 days.

J: (slowly) Yes...and about living together again. I need things to be...different for a while. I don’t know how long. I just… I have some requests.

S: Oh. (trying to hide the disappointment in his voice and the flicker of despair in his silver eyes) Of course. I can move my things into your old room tonight if you’d like. You can have as much space as you need.

J: (brows shooting up to his hairline) What? No. God, no. That’s not what I’m talking about. Not at all.

S: It isn’t?

(John shakes his head with a smile of endearment on his face. Then the smile fades and he bites his lip, looking down at Sherlock’s hand and giving them a squeezes before continuing quietly.)

J: The only way for this to make any sense is for you to know what happened to me while I was with him. (meeting his eyes) Are you up to that?

S: John, I once said I would listen to all you want to tell me and help in any way I can. That still holds true. Whenever you are ready, whatever you want to say, I am here. The decision is yours.

(John looks at him in silence. He had thought about what to say, how to begin for the better part of the night while he lay awake in Sherlock’s arms. He thought he was prepared, but now the words fail him. He can only look at his flatmate’s face and imagine what it will look like once he starts talking. The thought is too much to bear, but he can’t go back now. He doesn’t want to go back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes are already moist and he lowers them in shame. Before he even notices Sherlock moving, his arms are wrapped around John and pulling him close. Sherlock wants to tell him he doesn’t have to say or explain anything, but he knows how John Watson works. He not only wants to tell Sherlock, he needs to tell him. Keeping it bottled up will crush him, give Moriarty power over him, and there is no way John Watson will live under that man’s thumb.

Sherlock loosens his hold a bit and looks into John’s eyes, deciding the best thing to do is try to prompt John so he feels he has a place to start from. He slides his hands back down to hold John’s and speaks quietly.)

S: He sexually assaulted you.

(From the pain in his eyes to the way his voice caught in his throat over the word “assaulted”, John can imagine every torturous thought and feeling in Sherlock’s mind.)

J: (whispering) Yes.

(Sherlock’s eyes well up.)

J: Every night.

(An uncontrolled breath of shock escapes Sherlock’s lips, his eyes wide in despair and disbelief. John watches as his face crumbles. He is powerless to stop it, but he opens his mouth to try. Before he can, Sherlock suddenly jerks his hands away and rubs them furiously over his own eyes. John looks at him with wide eyes, feeling every fear is coming true. Sherlock doesn’t want him anymore, not after all that has happened. His soul is cracking and falling apart piece by piece, never to go back together again.

John feels as though he’s dying a little more with every passing second and it will only get worse, but he can’t stop now. He must tell Sherlock everything or it will haunt him the rest of his life and he won’t, he won’t let Jim control him.)

J: He...he started by drugging me. Then he used threats. It became very violent the last couple weeks.

(Sherlock’s breath catches and John stops. Tears are streaming down both men’s faces. Visions of the last two months play out in John’s mind in seconds and he is suddenly crushed under the burden he has carried. Guilt and shame, betrayal. Everything he has tried keep from destroying him since the night he broke and succumbed to Jim’s demands presses down on his chest and his head. The pain of it is incredible. And Sherlock doesn’t want him anymore, not after what he has done. John would have thought he’d be rendered mute by all of his feelings, but instead, words begin to pour from his mouth like a dam that burst.)

J: I’m sorry, Sherlock. God, I’m so sorry. I said I would never go to bed with him willingly. I promised myself. I promised you! And then I...I did. I didn’t try to stop him. I didn’t fight. I even fucking kissed him when he told me to. He came back again and again, night after night, and he never let up and I just went along with it and wanted...I wanted to die. But he was always there and he said he would kill… (stopping abruptly and shaking his head) And I did NOTHING! HE FUCKED THE SOUL RIGHT OUT OF ME!

S: John!

(Sherlock grasps his arms firmly, but gently and looks deep into his eyes, hoping with all his might that touching John this way doesn’t upset him. John goes silent. He looks lost and lonely, so lonely. Sherlock speaks steadily and quietly and makes sure never to break eye contact with his flatmate, the man he loves, the man he must comfort somehow.)

S: You did not allow him to do anything. You were not willing and coercion does not change the fact that he forced himself on you. It was emotional torture and it was vicious. You are not at fault or disloyal or damaged. He used your greatest loves against you and he relished it like only a madman would.

(John shakes his head and bites back sobs, wanting to believe Sherlock, but fearing that he is just hearing what he wants to.)

J: I can’t tell you anymore. I...I can’t.

S: (exhaling in quiet anger before responding, seeing it all clearly) He didn’t threaten you. He threatened me. He used me and you are afraid I will blame myself for that.

J: Yes, yes. (breath shuddering in his throat, misinterpreting Sherlock’s anger) And that you...won’t want me. You don’t want me anymore.

S: (eyes wide) What?

J: I’m...I… You could never want me after the things I’ve done. It’s okay. It is. I understand.

S: No! No! Listen to me, John. I love you as much as I ever have. I want you. I want to be with you. Now and for my whole life. I want to marry you.

J: (quiet, in disbelief) You don’t.

S: I do. (He cups John’s face in his hands looks at him with the most serious eyes.) I love you, John Watson. Nothing that has happened or that ever will happen is going to change that. You are the other half of my heart, the part of my soul that was always missing. No matter what Moriarty did to you or persuaded you to do, my feelings for you, my opinion of you will not change. I admire you and trust you and respect you...and I love you. Please believe me, John, because it’s true. Every word.

(John is sobbing openly now and nodding his head, bobbing in and out of Sherlock’s warm hands.)

J: I do. I believe you. I believe you. (He buries his face in Sherlock’s neck and cries, his whole body trembling.) I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

S: You have nothing to be sorry for, John.

(He wraps his arms around John and holds him tightly, tucking John’s head under his chin and kissing his head. John clutches at his body and sobs almost uncontrollably. The two men remain this way for some time. Sherlock comforting his doctor silently until the sobbing begins to lose its intensity and the quaking of his body lessens.

Sensing John’s need for a break, Sherlock shifts his body and John’s with it so they are both lying on the bed. His arms are still wrapped around John, who rests his head against Sherlock’s chest. Half of his body on Sherlock’s body, John feels warmth spread through him, making what was once cold, what he hadn’t even realized was cold, warm again. Alive. He blinks slowly, a serene expression on his face. Somehow, in spite of everything, John feels safe and loved. As the last tear falls, he feels something stir in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt since he was taken from Sherlock’s side. A small smile finds his lips as he snuggles in closely to his detective and lets his body relax completely.)

S: John? (He pauses a moment, stroking John’s hair softly.) I know there is more you want to tell me, but give yourself some time. I’m not going anywhere. Get some rest now. We can talk again when you’re ready.

J: (very quietly) Thank you.

[lifeofgroffsauce]

Miscellaneous papers spilled from a crisp manilla folder held lax and haphazardly, clattering onto the apartment's hallway floor to cause a groan from the actor. Various safety waivers and film contracts now mixed up and out of the ascending order of dates he'd meticulously placed them in, was a hell of an end to the night. Crouching down to gather them, grumbling irritably as he did, he tried his best to reorganize the mess before knocking on the door.

“Jon Groff! My faaavorite client!”

The shrill ring of his, uncharacteristically drunk, agent Kelly hit his ears. It was her cheery smile that was infectious and suddenly he matched her enthusiasm, despite his previous misfortune seconds ago.  

“Oh my god, you're such a little liar!” He accused playfully then gestured to her relaxed posture against the wood slab that seemed to hold her up, having it half way open. “What are you doing on a Monday night, missy? Don't you have special agent things to be doing?”

Freshly manicured nails, tips too boxy in Jonathan's opinion, tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. He noticed they both suffered the same fate when it came to alcohol flushing their cheeks. Hers, however, wore only a faint blush peeking through her artificially tan skin. “What?! Why are you- did you not get my email?” A gasp fled from her lithe form, soon swatting his arm. “Check your fucking emails more than once a year! Jesus, I sent you an e-vite!”

Just as he rose an inquisitive brow, she swung the door fully open, bright cerleans catching the light of the Brooklyn bridge out of gigantic panoramic windows lining the living room wall. A small group of people congregated about the space, all mingling with each other. They all appeared to be close friends and work connections.

“You're having a party? Oh my goodness,” He laughed almost nervously and mustered up a sheepish grin. “I'm super sorry. I wish I had known! I'll make a better habit of reading those but, it's really late and I just needed to-”

“Jonathan! Nooo, don't be sorry! Come in, come in!” To her urging, his lips parted to object but she quickly silenced him with her shushing, coiling her nimble digits around his larger ones. /Don't argue with Italians, even the five-foot-two short shits like Kelly./ He smirked at his own thought and walked in.

“You know Drew Gehling, right?” The boozy Kelly slurred her way through each introduction like a proper hostess. A striking baritone voice flooded the space with his drawl, steps moving toward the agent as they circled around the dining table. “Why bother asking, Kels. Tall, dark, handsome. Fits Jonathan's type perfectly. Of course they know each other.”

Jonathan's muscles tensed slightly, his mouth pulling a tight-lipped grin. “Though I guess the 'tall' box has been unchecked. New boyfriend's on the vertically challenged side.” Zachary offered a sassy smirk to Jon to let him know he was joking and calm him down; unfortunately, it did the opposite. He was painfully reminded of where he should  be versus where he was.

“He's flexible; that's all that matters,” Flew from his lips faster than his brain could register. It earned him a chuckle from his ex-boyfriend. J shrugged.

Kelly, the serial gasper at this point, followed with a grip of Jon's bicep. “Oh my god, I fucking meant to talk to you about all those Instagram posts! Stop with the lovey crap or Jeana will actually have a job to do- and Jon- I'd rather keep her on standby and not pay her an exorbitant amount of money because you're in your feelings...” She continued to scold him, but he had long since tuned her out as, in paranoid fashion, his focus was on studying Quinto until the tall male left the room to go refill his oversized glass of chardonnay.

Another theatre family member (he remembered as Lin's “cousin”) joined their conversation and began a debate regarding the proper use of social media. Jonathan eased up a bit when he saw Zach return but rather than engage, turned to his own huddle of friends on the other side of the room. /I'll stay for a little while longer, I don't want to be rude./

Before he knew it, a blush colored wine glass was being thrust into one of his hands he was animatedly driving his point home with. Without thought, he accepted it, not aware it was Zachary that had given it to him until several moments after. Naturally, the thirty-three year old regarded him with a polite nod, watching as he seamlessly dove into the topic at hand.

“I just don't see the point in lying on social media about who you are or what you do. Why try to make someone believe you pop bottle of Dom every weekend and prance around on a private beach every holiday? Stop stunting.” One actor in their bundle scoffed.

While Jonathan's eyes were taking in the many that had swarmed around their expanded circle, Zach spoke up. His left arm leaned against the kitchen's accent wall. “I take it you've never heard of 'escape theory'? Mm, what a shame, Brandon.”

A click of his tongue snagged Groff's attention, wine kissing his lips, attention on Quinto. “All of us here; we're trying to find an outlet to help us step outside, escape- if you've put two and two together- who we are for a fragment in time. It can be as simple as that evening glass of cheri you have in your underwhelming studio apartment, or as large as the theatre audience seeing you stripped down, bare-assed, utterly exposed for eyes to feast on your body. You don't think posting photographs on social media does that as well?”

He was met with silence; the group stealing glances but not quite knowing how to move forward. Quinto took that as a que to continue speaking, this time with a tone that was introspective. “We can project anything out into the world... put out... anything, but the hardest thing to do is show it who we are. To the core. That's why people 'stunt' on social media. Maybe, after a while, we'll start to believe it, too. We'll start to believe we're something more than we actually are.”

Another pause. “Here I just thought everyone had Cartier bracelets and endless frequent flier miles.” Jon deadpanned, earning laughter from everyone, as well as a slightly grim smile from Zachary. The older actor excused himself, accidentally (intentionally?) brushing his front against the Hamilton star's chest when he passed.

“Jeez, Zach!” Kelly coughed, senses overloaded at the trail he left in his wake. “Use more Bleu de Chanel, please. I don't think they can smell your bougie ass in Chelsea!”

Two hours later...

“Drive safe. Take back alleys. The scenic routes. Turn on your Friends app so I can see when you're home.” The demands came at lightening speed from his drunk agent, whom he was sure peppered some Italian expletives in there. “Kelly Bean, I'm good. Three glasses of wine. Solid as a rock. Go to bed.”

He watched the petite woman tuck herself into the Pottery Barn sheets then began his quest for the door, stopped only by the sound of glasses clanking together. Everyone was gone with the exception of two. While the first was exhausted beyond belief, seeing the second clearing the glasses off the table alone guilted him. “Do you... do you want help with this?”

The onyx haired man shook his head no. “I'll have you know, I'm very domestic now, Groff. I got it. Go home,” He insisted. “I would just feel bad if I left this for her because honey, with that hangover she's going to have tomorrow, she's going to be wishing for death. Dirty crystal will be the catalyst that pushes her over the edge; the Brooklyn nutcase. That's why you don't get involved with Virgos.”

Jon nodded slowly as he spoke, semi-entertained though far away in his mind. It caused him to approach his next set of words with caution. “Hey, do you remember... I know this was a long time ago and it's probably super unprofessional because of, you know, the show, but...” A sigh. “When we were together, maybe the first six or so months, we- we did a scene. It was super intense...” He was gaging Quinto's, so far, anti-climactic reaction. “I threw up...” An embarrassed laugh leaked into the air.

“Which time? I remember that you had the weeeeakest stomach,” The laugh that followed from Zachary was filled with nostalgic amusement. After diving up the glasses in even rows into the dishwasher, he spun around to pin his broad back against the pantry door, raising a finger. “I think you may have cried once, too. I don't do crying so, kind of let you do your thing on that one. A little dark, in retrospect.” His hand waved back and forth, not too sold on the idea that he added, “To be fair, I mean; we did a lot of intense stuff. We were intense stuff.”

The gears in Jonathan's brain were turning. An odd comfort came from hearing him stress were. Mentally noting to keep that in his arsenal when he had to balance his career and relationship. As if that justified him being there talking to him, instead of at home, spooning Lin as he promised. The lyricist was never far from his mind, especially as he stood in the warm cast of light in the otherwise empty home, staring at the distant embodiment of someone he cared about.

Zachary was a walking memory; an old polaroid that had discolored and aged with time. Circumstances were what they were. No amount of positive narration would change the way something was. Not even the comfort a lie would provide. There was ice and the bite of winter whenever he looked at him.

He greatly preferred Lin, who was a photo album with more promise and opportunity for happiness. A radiating warmth that flowed from a steadily burning fire. Thoughts, the splitting wood and radiant embers that transformed into something beyond what is expected. In life, he'd found another soul he believed shared a part of his. They were intertwined in some cosmic way, and life was too short to not pursue that. Even if that meant he had to intervene in the man's own marriage to make it happen.

Still, none of this quelled the incessant internal squabbling that came with trying to piece together... the reality. /To weed through the lies of the past is necessary to have a better understanding of the future's truth./ Some shit his therapist told him that he wished he hadn't. Now he couldn't stop trying to remember.

Lingering whispers of anxiety multiplied into an fierce entity that occupied his headspace long after he'd left. Two small pills were his savior, dissolving into his Rosé-filled gut.

Finally, he made it home.

Luckily, his boyfriend was out cold. Feet weren't as coordinated as they could have been, stumbling while attempting to take off his jacket. The blunt hit of his kneecap on the night stand caused his hiss before he whispered apologies to the offending piece of furniture. Resuming his place with the Puerto Rican in his embrace, a smile graced his lips. He could only hope his aura remained as peaceful as it did in this moment.

[eighthcakeimagines]

What Matters Most

Genre: Writer!Jungkook, fluff fluff fluffity fluff fluff fluff

Summary: After the success of her last drama, Y/N is consumed with thoughts of the public’s expectations and wonders if she has to feel the pressure of making her latest drama better. Her writer boyfriend offers her sincere advice, and a bit of cockiness and lots of fluff ensues.

A/N: I got inspired about reading some more fanfics at 3 am, and now the drabble series is back (and hopefully better than before lol)! I hope you guys enjoy it and if you’d like to see more with this AU, leave a request!

Drabbles: 1 2 3 4

Stars shone down onto the night landscape of the city of Seoul, their light illuminating through the glass window pane of Y/N’s apartment. The sound of keyboard keys clicking and mellow music playing in the background were the only sounds that could be heard as Y/N continued to pour out of all of the ideas that she had for the final scene that she was working on.

Stretching her hands out to the ceiling, Y/N sighed as she finished her last script for the drama that she was writing, taking a breath of relief now that her work was done. But as she looked around and only found herself in the middle of her living room, she couldn’t help but feel a bit empty.

Deciding to take a break, she saved her work and left her work space as she made her way to her window. She looked outside to see the bustling nightlife of Seoul below her. The lights were as bright as they always were, and she could hear all of the noises that came with it. The cars honking, the loud chatter, and the pop music that played throughout the streets came together to become an organized mess that Y/N somehow found comforting.

But despite all of this, there was still one question that ran through her mind.

During the press conference for her new drama, she was asked so many questions about the success of her last drama, which ended up being such a smash hit that it became a huge trend in all of Asia and in the world.

However, one reporter asked her a question that almost rendered her speechless.

“Y/N-ssi, after the success of your last drama, do you feel the pressure to make your new drama as good, or even better, than your last?”

Y/N never really thought about the public’s eye or their thoughts whenever she wrote. She first started out in the business just wanting to write whatever she wanted, whatever ideas and stories that she wanted to bring to life. But now that she now had a story of success in her hands, she was also holding the story of pressure as well. And she knew for sure that she had felt the pressure, but she didn’t know if she had to give in to it.

All of these thoughts consumed her to the point where she didn’t even notice the door unlock and someone come into her apartment.

Hearing a sudden rustling noise,  she turned around to see an exhausted Jungkook, taking off his dress shoes at the front steps. Instantly, she was overcome with excitement as a bright smile appeared on her face.

“Jungkook!”

Rushing to him right away, she pulled him into her arms and held onto him tightly.

Although he was tired from all of the meetings and conferences that he had to go, he wrapped his arms around her gently, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck.

“I missed you so much,” Y/N told him, closing her eyes in bliss as she began to feel peaceful in her boyfriend’s arms.

“I missed you too,” he chuckled, giving her a small kiss on her neck before pulling back to look at her.

Brushing the stray hairs that covered her face away, he caressed her cheek softly and held her face in his hands. Y/N reached up to do the same, brushing through his brown locks and fixing his hair so that it didn’t cover up his face.

“Did you survive without me?” he asked jokingly, causing Y/N to smile.

“I guess I did,” Y/N replied, “I mean, I’ve been working on my day off because I wanted to wait for my boyfriend to come back from all of his meetings-”

“But you didn’t take a break?” Jungkook asked, concern starting to come over him. He knew very well that whenever Y/N worked, she would become so consumed in her ideas that she’d end up toiling for hours without rest.

“No, I did, but I was kind of trying to distract myself from something,” Y/N said.

“What were you trying to avoid?” Jungkook asked, bringing his hand up to hers and interlocking their fingers together. He then motioned for her to walk with him to the couch. He took a seat and held her hands in his, looking up at her with concern.

“I don’t know what it was about it, but I was asked something at the press conference the other day.”

“For the drama?” Jungkook asked. Y/N nodded her head, looking at the view that was seen from the window.

“Mm, it was something that one of the reporters asked. They asked me if I felt any pressure to make the new drama good or even better than the last. I don’t know why, but at that moment, I didn’t know what to say.”

Y/N turned to look at Jungkook and asked him intently, “Jungkook, am I supposed to feel pressure?”

He took a moment to think about the question.

“Hmm,” he pondered, “Well, it really all depends on who you are as a writer. I’ve never seen you feel pressure in your life. You’ve always just gone with things and never let what other people’s thoughts and opinions bother you and your stories.”

“But this time, I’m worried,” Y/N confessed, “I’m worried about what people think now. After they asked that question, it kind of just hit me, you know? I realized that now that I’ve made something that people liked, I have to make my next thing better, and I’m afraid that I can’t do that, Jungkook. What if I’m not capable of meeting their expectations?”

Jungkook gave her a small chuckle before standing up and taking her into his arms.

“Y/N, is that what you’re so worried about? Meeting the public’s expectations?”

She nodded her head, embracing him tightly.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at her cuteness as he stroked her hair lovingly.

“Why do you sound so happy?” Y/N asked, her voice slightly muffled.

Jungkook pulled away from the embrace only to pinch Y/N’s cheeks.

“Because you’re just so adorable.”

Y/N scoffed, a smile unconsciously appearing on her face.

Jungkook then held her shoulders in hopes to reassure with his advice.

“The public’s expectations shouldn’t matter when you write. Of course, you can think about them and what they would like, but it is not their decision to dictate the words that you write or where your story should go. Because in the end, it was your idea and your story. You’re the creator, so you know it best right?”

Y/N nodded her head.

“And that’s why the expectations that you have for yourself as the creator should matter most. Not the public’s, not your director, not your boss, no one’s. And it’s okay if the feedback isn’t as great as you thought it would be. It’s okay to fail at times, but in the end, if you enjoyed writing your story and had fun throughout the whole experience of the drama, then that’s more important.”

Y/N smiled before bringing Jungkook back into her arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you Jungkook,” she said earnestly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Jungkook cockily replied, only to see Y/N look up at him unamused.

“I’m kidding!” he chuckled before bringing her back into his arms, stroking her hair gently.

“Why is it that everytime you say something serious, you say something arrogant right afterwards?” Y/N asked.

“Because I’m just that kind of person you know?” Jungkook replied, “But you know what this arrogant guy needs?”

“What is it?” she asked out of curiosity, peeking up to see Jungkook puckering his lips obnoxiously, obviously expecting a kiss.

Y/N scoffed at the sight before cupping his face and planting a small kiss on his nose. Jungkook opened his eyes and instantly pouted.

“That wasn’t the spot though,” he said.

“Well, you looked so obnoxious doing it that I couldn’t help but not give you a kiss there. But I can give you a kiss in other places.”

Then standing up on her toes, she planted a kiss on his forehead before kissing both of his cheeks and then back to his nose.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at how adorable that she was being, giving him all of these signs of affection, but he still felt unsatisfied.

“I appreciate it, but it’s still-”

Then suddenly, his wish was granted when he felt her lips on his, giving him a sweet yet short kiss.

Pulling away, Y/N asked, “Are you happy now?”

“More than happy.”

Then before she knew it, he had pulled her back into a passionate kiss. She felt her breath being taken away as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer to the point where it felt like there was no distance left between them.

There was no way to describe all of the emotions that she felt with his lips on hers. Her heart began to race, and she felt like he would be able to hear how loud her heart beat for him. All of the worrisome thoughts that she had pondered about so much before just seemed to simply vanish.

He pulled away gently, continuing to hold her in his embrace. Smiling, he gave her one last peck before he said, “And regarding that thing you said earlier, I don’t know what I’d do without you either.”

Y/N chuckled before saying, “Of course you wouldn’t.”

[isilie-kins]

We’re back everybody (and once again, I’m absurdly behind in my reviews)! After a brief and glorious respite from the heavy formation choreography and the blatant pushing of an Ace member – it’s all made a comeback in Brand New Morning, Momusu’s declaration of war on 2017.

Ok, well it’s actually not a war declaration. It’s an uplifting song about moving forward in confusing times and using all your power for good and so forth; it’s the usual morning fare with perhaps a whiff of politics (although to say this song is about Trump seems stupid to me). But this is a BRAND NEW morning (get it?) and we have two fabulous new members to shake things up.

I didn’t expect this kind of a pv though. I mean, it certainly suits the song, but this is taking the formation dance thing to an absurdly literal place.

The last couple of singles haven’t struck me as heavily formation the way Help Me or Brainstorming are, and there hasn’t been any Ace to push either. They gave Maria a chance to center in Sou Ja Nai and BOSS, Masaki-kins, Fuku-hime and Oda have all had their moments. Mostly, 2016 was a year of unity for Momusu; I was just getting used to the idea of ‘no ace’ and enjoying how much everybody has grown (except maybe Haga, who just is kinda there – adorable, but not really a big part of things yet).

But as soon as I saw this face:

I thought, “Yep. Yokoyama’s gonna be the promoted one, for sure.”

You know how I know? It’s not just because she’s younger and has the kind of generic idol face the Japanese public loves (settle down – I’m not saying she isn’t cute because she definitely is), it’s because I ALWAYS like the one they don’t promote as much better than the Ace.

And I LOVE Kaedi. I think she’s fierce and poised and has strong deep vocals that are really going to add a lot in the future. Besides, she’s demonstratively worked her ass off to be here. We already know she has drive and ambition and you can tell me that the fruits of her labour aren’t clear in her fabulous debut, but I won’t believe you. More than possibly any new member I’ve ever seen, she just blended into the group like she’d always been there. I still notice her, look for her, appreciate her, but she fits in so well that you can only tell she’s new when she’s answering questions; when performing she’s all in and on fire.

Yoko, on the other hand, got in after barely three months of work. Which is fine, I mean, good for her, but if we compare them to each other, I’m not seeing why Yoko deserves to be pushed more. Maybe because of her lack of experience/exposure, but I doubt it.

I also need to point out what many people have pointed out: that she has the same confidence and sly ambition as Riho and that she sings EXACTLY like Zukki. And her name is Reina.

I mean why don’t you just punch me in the FACE, Momusu!?

WOA! Ok, sorry! Also: perfect solo line is perfect. I love her voice. Duet with BOSS about who is more ikemen – now!

You know as much as I complain about one being promoted more than the other, I love the dynamic between these two. Kaedi worked hard for years to get a major debut and now that she has it, she still seems so floored with her victory that she’s perhaps a bit absentminded when she talks. However, her background with H!P Eggs (they will always be Eggs – don’t bother correcting me) has given her confidence and poise in both singing and dance. There’s a real ikemen feel to her even though she has an elegant stature. After working for years for this chance, I seriously doubt she’ll let Yoko just take over.

Yoko, as I’ve said, reminds me of debut-age Riho: she’s absolutely ambitious without alienating anyone  (she has that cute, reassuring smile, after all), she has a background in dance, with singing being a bit more difficult for her, and she’s instantly getting a ton of close-ups and attention from the Japanese fans. Her smirk is the same debut face as Riho. When given the chance to talk, she’ll talk a ton. Have you seen her replies in the Pocket mornings?? Then there’s the crooked-baby-teeth-super smile…

As I mentioned before, they have such an odd senpai-kouhai paradox: Kaedi is the senpai but now they’re part of the same generation, so they’re equal. Kaedi has worked diligently while Yoko (I can’t call her Reina; it’s too traumatic) got into a group quickly on some mysterious charm. The other members cried in happiness that Kaedi had finally gotten in, while they are now constantly mentioning and promoting Yoko in their blogs…Our 13th gen seem to be on good terms, but they definitely get their digs in to each other.

It’s gonna be a fight indeed…in fact it looks like Kaedi kinda punched our little Yoko in the back of her head. Oooh that smarts.

After all, isn’t this pv all about aggression? It’s absolutely saturated in red. Red is an aggressive colour; it means passion and fire and no-time-to-mess around. Coupled with that militaristic marching, what else are we supposed to think about?

Also did anyone else notice this thing:

This red flash happens a few times and I really have no idea what it is. Some angry swiss cheese?

My first thought was, “blood cells”, which it isn’t. There is something biological about that image. Unless, it is angry cheese, in which case, colour my face… red.

*rimshot*

Fuku-hime mentioned the theme is “marching band” and since Momusu have had a few years to get used to formations, they seem to form their X, circle and triangle shapes effortlessly. The costumes are the right mix of cute and strong, although I was hoping for a revival of the Rival Survival concert gear. I suppose I’d have to wait for a concert for that one.

Since the theme is marching band, we gotta have some flag-bearer action! BOSS!

BOSS seems pretty excited in this one, although I honestly didn’t notice her much until her solo lines.

B: “I don’t care if you didn’t notice me – I’m INVINCIBLE.”

B: “RISE MY FANGIRLS AND SWEEP THIS STAGE CLEEEEAAAAAN-“

The terrifying power of our Ikemen: everyone is swooning and they don’t even know why! Look at her eyes people; she’s losing it!!

I love everything about this cap, especially Maria’s very matter-of-fact way of punching the camera. And what’s with that extra hand on Ayumin’s shoulder??

Seriously though, good luck competing with Kaedi for who’s the most boyish, Boss. She’s already protested that her and Kaedi look too much alike and their interests align and therefore clash too. If you notice in some of the performances, Kaedi started to part her hair on the other side…

Y: “Haaaaay, guuuuuuys. Dis about me?”

No, Yoko. No, no. I’ve talked about you already. Just cause there’s a million shots of you doesn’t mean you can just keep popping up like this.

Y: “Whatevs.”

Ahem.

Moving right along…

Today she isn’t Fuku-hime…she is RIIDA!

Honestly, Fuku-hime seems so leader-like in this pv, in a way I haven’t really seen before.

F: “Don’t you steal now. As your princess, I simply don’t approve.”

As far as her performance, it’s pretty much flawless as always. The only thing close to a complaint I have is how quietly she sings during lives. Some times she just doesn’t project enough. I mean, that could be the sound guys screwing up, but since it’s happened so often, I don’t think so. I hope she’ll really belt it out in concert, because you can’t just be ‘cute’ in this kind of song.

…Ok, fine, maybe you can.

F: “Hail to da riida, baby!”

Case and point about cuteness: Haga-chin, who is so adorable whenever she pops up that I don’t even mind how I keep forgetting she exists.

Look at that little face – how can you get mad at her??

Y: “Dat’s just like meeeeee!”

HEY! What did I say, Yoko?! Get outta here! And you STOP that winking!

Ikuta brandishing the MM flag like a weapon! That outta keep them haters away.

Does anybody actively hate Eri-pon? I’m planning a post about her so I won’t go into it too much, but I’ve noticed she’s gotten a lot more sullen in the past few years. She’s still trying really hard, she’s still smiling and being adorable and being the most photogenic of all the members (except maybe Oda, who is so freakin’ gorgeous this year that I can’t even sentence make!), but there always seems to be a frown in her eyes.

But let’s talk about her solo part please!

She gets the second bridge line and I don’t think she’s ever sounded better. It’s a bittersweet line and she delivers it with that unique, but rarely seen Eri-pon vulnerability; I even hear some of that vibratto she’s developed. It was just such a sweet delivery. I nearly teared up I was (am!) so happy for her. I feel happy when members we never hear from get solos, but I’m almost never emotional about it! Eri-pon just wants it so badly! >_<

I think a lot of the girls, despite speaking in rather high registers, don’t have the singing range for super high-pitched melodies. You could also argue they aren’t sure how to hit those notes without bellowing.

I have said it before and will continue to say it forever: singing is a skill and your voice is a muscle as well as an instrument. Using it properly, so that it won’t crap out in three years or get ruined forever, is critical for girls who sing constantly and sing LIVE. We laugh at singers who take ridiculous precautions before their concerts: drinking odd herbal concoctions or not speaking at all until the performance or making ridiculous noises repeatedly to “warm up”, but then these people sing and we shut the hell up because all those preparations WORKED.

This range is somewhere between low and high; it’s easy to sing, just girly enough.

I’ve seen Eri-pon perform this line on shows and she’s clearly not used to getting a center part, but I hope her shyness and insecurity won’t get the better of her. She’s probably the Musume I’m rooting for most, even if she isn’t my favourite.

Y: “Haaaaaay, I’m totally fiiiiiiine with center parts, ne?!”

Yoko, for fracks sake…

ERI-PON WILL ROUNDHOUSE YO’ FAYCE IF YOU DON’T QUIT IT!

Let me just mention here again how amazing Kaedi is during her solo moments.

*dies*

Close-up shots are usually a clear indicator of how much improvement is needed, or how much the girl’s confidence has developed. Kaedi is wonderful to watch. I didn’t get any of the derp I usually find in 12th gen, or the wide-open mouths I find with the 10th. Kaedi seems to already be able to feel the song and not fuss about whether or not she’s enunciating a lot.

Plus there’s the fact that she’s so gorgeous and elegant.

K: “Don’t forget the guns.”

Epic elegance.

I’m not actually sure if that is Kaedi or BOSS…

B: “I-I can’t remember either!”

B: “Who….who am I?”

Boss, settle down. This is Kaedi!

Y: “Hey…hey MOVE KAEDIIIIII-“

An example of both derp and the wide-open-mouth-syndrome. The struggle is real.

I had to include all three of the best shots of Maria, because if you can’t cap Masaki-kins, Maria is where you’re going to get all your unbashed joy. She doesn’t get to do much in this pv, but I always notice her and she always has at least one moment like this one.

…Then she’ll turn around and be gorgeous. She’s totally won me over folks, even with all the Loverinrinwhateveritis nonsense.

Y: “Haaaay, listen, I won’t evar do gags like that, ok? I am an ace.”

Well Kaedi will give us a random Aiiiii~n fail-face in the middle of pwning the choreography. I think you can afford to give us at least one fail-face.

If you’re gonna keep popping up, at least you can give us a renewed Reina-fail.

Y: *random goat noises*

…Okay.

Let’s move on to a completely different kind of awkward and talk about Ogata now.

Ogata has finally gained enough weight to be able to hoist the MM flag. Well..hold it anyway…well mimic holding it. They probably CG-ed in the actual flag…

O: “Look, I didn’t come here to grow an angry Riida out of my head and listen to insults, ok?”

It’s not an insult, really. I’ve just noticed how skeletal she looked in the past few years and now she looks a bit more healthy now. That isn’t really the point though. The point is that there is something about Ogata that means I keep noticing her. It’s probably because she’s just so damn odd.

There’s something odd about that whole 12th gen, isn’t there? Haga is like a stuffed-animal, but can be a bad-ass when she gets the idea; Maria is s giant-smilie-face come to life, but is incredibly versatile as a performer (even if her voice is still pretty rough); Nonaka is derpy even though she’s the most composed out of all of them; and then there is vacantly smiley Ogata who can’t sing and always seems awkward until you strap a pair of skates on her (seriously, look it up – she’s quite capable and looks very comfortable on the ice).

What is this expression? I DON’T KNOW!

Ok…we’ll leave on that note.

Perfect Oda is perfect. Wait…that IS Oda, right?

HAH! Found you!

O: “Woa, center again! No waaaaay!”

I confess 2016 was all about Oda for me. Once I discovered her strange tension with Ayumin and her ‘bullied’ character, I was intrigued. I’d been thoroughly blown away by her birthday solo performances, but I’d never quite seen her as an ace, or potential ace. She’s kept powering up, and I’ve kept wanting to learn more about her. Ultimately what I discovered is, I really like her.

I think she’s gorgeous and I love her voice. I feel like she didn’t really have a character before last year. She was just sorta there as a pleasant back-up. Then one line from Ayumin in a dvd magazine (“I don’t wanna be on camera with Oda.”) led me to discover that they bully her a bit. And rather than shrinking away, she loves it. She requests that they bully her more. It’s like finding her place has given her the confidence to really push herself in performances. Yasuda Kei was a bullied character and it turned her into probably the most infamous member of them all! Being bullied can be a gold mine!

Before the Sexy Cat business, I really couldn’t say she was a potential ace, but that single felt like a starting point. Even if Yokoyama is gonna be pushed, I doubt Oda will stay on the sidelines for too long.

I couldn’t honestly say she’s my favourite member though; I don’t really have a favourite, which is another strange and wonderful thing about this lineup. I feel like I’ve always had someone I’m watching or noticing more than others. Sure, Oda has my favourite voice, but I also love Fukuhime’s voice; I love BOSS’s ikemen stuff and the craziness of Masaki-kins; I’m rooting for Eri-pon and I adore Maria’s nonsense. I simply can’t decide.

There isn’t anyone to really dislike either. Call me boring, but I like that.

Y: “Oh, so dis means you like me? Oooooh…”

Sure, Yoko. Now please be quiet. *sigh*

Turning around is apparently Ayumin’s specialty. I don’t get it any more than you do…

Ayumin has changed so much. I still get that Daichi feeling from her, but now that I know she doesn’t get along with Oda (“they don’t ‘match’ well” – however you wanna say it), she seems a bit more cut-throat to me.

You can call it bias if you like, but I don’t think she’s really shown that side of her. All that aggression in her dancing is finally coming out in her personality. It’s like Riho’s exit finally freed her to aim for center. Or maybe I’m just more wary of her because this Oda thing doesn’t feel like it’s just for tv. Played up some times, sure, but it feels pretty real.

I certainly don’t dislike her and some tension in the group doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It’s not like Oda and her can’t do variety together, it’s just pretty tense when they do. I guess I didn’t think Ayumin was that kinda girl.

Hey, sometimes when you’re wrong, you’re pleasantly surprised.

If she’s pushing forward, I’m loving it. Her voice isn’t my favourite but I respect how much work she’s put into her singing. I love that they’re finally using her rap skills (not in this song, but in Jealousy, Jealousy – the Tsunku addition to this lovely single) and I hope that will become a permanent thing.

Be honest: H!P rap is usually a sad, albeit cute, failure, with lots of ‘uh’, ‘like dis’, and ‘you know?’s. Let’s not forget ‘yo, check it out, yo’.

*facepalm*

Speaking of facepalms, who are the derp-iest derps who ever derped?

Both: “It’s YOU!”

That’s correct!! Both: “Hooray!”

It made me laugh so much when I saw they’d paired up Mega-Derp Iikubo and Derp-chan Nonaka. The two Derps sound great together, blending surprisingly well. It’s fitting as they both seem to cycle from derp-to-cool over and over. Iikubo has fewer instances now, but she’s probably the originator of the derp-face. I was so happy they were together here.

It’s nice to see them get some play. Iikubo felt oddly absent last year, I think suffering from some health issues (please correct me if I’m wrong here) and when she was around she’d sorta fade into the background. There wasn’t even any of her “sweet, sweet honey time” in backstage moments.

Nonaka has been moving up steadily. I read a few rants about how her English-speaking was going to alienate Japanese fans. I don’t know if that’s true, but whether the fans are intimidated or not, she’s gotten a lot of opportunities with those language skills. Her singing has improved every year and her confidence never seems to waver. She always looks so comfortable, even when she says she’s nervous.

N: “Haaaaay, man, don’t like- don’t -no, I’m not that – no…”

I: “Oooh, I’m not derpy at ALL in this!”

True enough, Iikubo, but you’ll always be Mega-derp to me, no matter how many sweet-sweet-honey-times you have.

LOVE the dance-break! So much fist-throwin’ and stompin’ goin on!!

That’s really all I got here. Two new members kill it.

*squee*

So 2017 is starting to take shape as a year about unity. Everything about this slams strength-in-numbers into your face: the formations, the militaristic feel, the flag brandishing. After all, the idol-business is a war for fans and sales and how does Momusu compete?

By dancing and singing…

Together, in unity!

And of course, they want all the fans to move forward and do positive things with whatever strength they have. It’s a lovely message at any time, but I suppose if you’re taking it as a political statement, it’s particularly fitting right now.

This is ‘brand new morning’, pushing forward with their new members, their long history, and their strong unity holding it all together. You could argue the song is “too strong”, but after last years Mukidashi de Mukiatte I feel they are at a level to pull this off. The new members don’t slow it down one bit.

Y: “I’m da ace. Dats why.”

I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Yoko.

~Isilie

Brand New Ace Formation We're back everybody (and once again, I'm absurdly behind in my reviews)! After a brief and glorious respite from the heavy formation choreography and the blatant pushing of an Ace member - it's all made a comeback in Brand New Morning, Momusu's declaration of war on 2017.