#i think about it a lot. i think some days i want to leave more than usual. i guess such is my fate. i've gotten. not *comfortable* but.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy!

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[fixyourself]

Just because you have anorexia doesn't mean you get to throw your life away and treat yourself like shit.

Take some time for yourself

Think about your life. You dont want to waste years being fat and depressed, instead you wont eat but you will think about food all the time? Either way you will just waste the "best" years of your life and think about it with regret at 40. Eat as little as possible but dont think about it all the time! You will start to enjoy life and it will make weightloss much easier.

Start to change yourself from the inside

Even though you don't eat as much as you should to be considered "healthy", start cleansing your body with what you put in it.

When you eat don't let it be junk or processed food. Choose high protein&vitamin superfoods, such as: tuna, salmon, chicken,almonds, chia seeds, green granny smith apples...

Cut the diet coke - i know it hurts but it just slows your metabolism, makes you feel more depressed and even more hungry. If you have already developed an addiction try to drink it as little as possible until you reach the possibility to not drink it at all and replace it with water.

Water has a very important role in weightloss, metabolism and mental health. Do you ever wonder why junk food and processed foods like chips make you fat? It's because these foods collect abnormal amount of water in your body which leaves you dehydrated.

Drink herbal teas with drops of lemon in them. I highly recommend green and spearmint tea. Green tea speeds up your metabolism because of its high amount of caffeine, while spearmint tea helps with bloating and digestion.

(comment if you want a whole post about food)

Take care of your skin and hygiene

Makeup only covers the top layer of your face, it doesn't change how you actually look. People think that confidence and good looks come from skincare but your hygiene actually makes the biggest impact on how you feel about yourself.

I know that many people on here don't shower let alone wash their hair or brush their teeth, so stop lying to yourself. We all have these rough days, weeks, months and even years, but it's time to grow up. Good hygiene - especially oral hygiene, makes you loose weight faster. Eating disorder also damages your teeth. I hope I convinced your ass to get out of bed and brush your teeth now.

After personal hygiene there comes skincare and body care. Stop using acids especially on young skin, even if you are 30 do not use retinol and anti-aging products YOU DON'T NEED THEM ! It may seem like they are working but they just make your eyes believe that they work while they actually make your skin even worse. Stick to a simple routine:

Wash your face with face wash and cold water. This kills the bacteria and oils on the surface of your skin.

Ice your face. This depuffs your face making it appear slimmer. It also helps with reducing buckle fat and water in your face.

Use a gentle cream with oils in it. This won't trigger your skin and will heal it from the previous creams and skincare products that you used.

I also suggest wearing face masks 4-7 times a week, they can be homemade as well. You can make them from yoghurt, honey, coffee, flaxseeds etc...

Read romance, read literature, read your homework JUST READ!

There isn't anything better than reading to pass the time while you're fasting. You learn from books, you go to another world and escape from reality.

It is absolutely fine if you don't have the money to buy them, in today's economy books cost a lot. You can always join your school's or local library.

Reading just 15 minutes a day improves your brain which is really useful and important since ED ruins your brain. Reading can get rid of your brain fogs and help you concentrate better.

Move your body

We all know that moving your body can do wonders for weight loss even if you eat as much as you would normally.

Finding a hobby such as dancing or running makes the journey easier.

You have to be careful with choosing your hobby because they can transform your body completely. For an example: if you start playing volleyball everyday and start to get good at it you will gain muscle and your arms and thighs will get bigger, but if you start doing ballet your body will get smaller and slimmer in general.

If you want a ballerina body but can't do ballet, do pilates. Pilates exercises are similar to ballet exercises. I also recommend slow pilates to people who are not active at all but want to build strength and get more active.

Walking is a wonderful and easy exercise that burns many calories in a short period of time. I think that walking is the easiest exercise there is to lose weight.

Meditate. This will help you collect your mind and thoughts. Meditate before bed to get a goodnight sleep. Sleeping 8 or more hours a night amazingly makes it easier for you to lose weight.

I hope you like this post, comment for more ideas!

[azrielbrainrot]

Under Your Sharp Teeth

Pairing: Vampire!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Vampire!Azriel, Blood Play

Description: Your curiosity about vampires leads you to a night you will never forget and a drastic change in your relationship with Azriel.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, a bit of edging, a bit of cockwarming, vampire bites, blood and blood play (some of this is definitely unhygienic), some dirty talk

Word Count: ~3,1k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: I still can't believe I'm doing this, but welcome to the first day of kinktober. Also there's a lot of filthy smut on here, don't get me wrong, but this somehow turned out a bit fluffy too and now I'm contemplating writing more of these two. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Holding onto sanity was proving to be more and more of a challenge with each thrust of Azriel's hips, slowly stretching you out and driving himself impossibly deeper inside you. Fingers lost in the black strands of his hair, probably pulling too hard as you desperately tried to keep yourself grounded in the moment, desperate whines and embarrassing moans leaving your mouth unattended.

His mouth busied itself with leaving marks and small bites all over your neck and chest, his sharp canine teeth caressing your supple skin ever so slightly - a preview of what was to come. Gods, he hadn't even truly started and you were already losing your mind.

If you had known asking Azriel more about vampires would lead to this, you would have swallowed your nerves and asked a long time ago. The fact that he was one was never a secret between you - it really was impossible for Azriel to be mistaken for a human when his eyes glowed red and his teeth were sharp enough that a simple smile would put them on full display, he also looked too otherworldly beautiful, unbelievably so, - but you were scared of overstepping since you hadn't been friends for too long.

All those worries seemed silly now. Azriel had let you ask him as many questions as you wanted, answering them all truthfully, until you asked him about feeding and what a vampire's bite would feel like. The words had barely left your lips when a smirk grew on his face, his hand coming down to hold your neck, a scarred thumb trailing down your throat as his red eyes followed its path before meeting your startled gaze once again, offering to show you rather than explain it. You had almost forgotten how to breathe, nodding quickly in agreement.

He kissed you in the next moment, taking you by surprise, but with a couple strokes of his tongue against yours and a few sweet words he quickly explained that he needed you to relax before biting you, so he didn't hurt you. There seemed to be some hesitation in his eyes as he did, maybe this had been more than you bargained for, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, grabbing his neck and pulling him back to you, kissing him again in lieu of an answer.

From the moment his lips touched yours, a hunger rose within you, overtaking your every thought, almost making you forget you were the one about to get bitten.

“Azriel,” you whine for what feels like the millionth time, desperately trying to get his attention.

As quickly as he had agreed to show you, he seemed perfectly content with playing with you, his hips setting a delicious but slow pace, making him go impossibly deep inside you, rubbing against every pleasurable spot, keeping you stimulated enough to make you want to beg him to just do anything, be it fuck you into the mattress or sink his teeth into your neck.

“I know, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, letting his teeth catch onto your skin, only enough to leave a mark, before licking the sting away with his warm tongue. He comes up to look at you then, searching your half lidded eyes before adding, “I told you I needed you to relax.”

“I'm more than relaxed, Az,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, hoping to at least keep him looking at you like this, even at his torturous pace you think you could cum if he kept watching you like you put every star in the sky, could bask in the way his brow scrunches softly with every thrust of his hips, knowing it's you who's making him feel good. Looking at him like this makes you wonder why you had never tried pursuing a romantic relationship with him before.

“Are you?” He leans down and pecks your lips. You nod as he moves even closer, your breasts pressing against his body. “There's something else you should know.” His hips stop moving as well, meaning he wanted you to pay attention, something you were somewhat unwilling to do in these conditions.

“Az,” you can't help but whine again, drawing out his name.

He shushes you with a kiss before continuing. “Vampires don't only bite someone to drink their blood.”

“Won't you drink mine?”

“I will,” he assures, voice deepening with hunger, hands tightening their grip on you. It looked like he was even more impatient than you, which meant what he needed to tell you was extremely important. “I want to taste you.”

“Then why won't you?”

“Vampires can feed off anyone, even animals. It's a clinical bite, meant to allow us to drink as much blood as possible without making too much of a fuss.” It's hard to follow along with his explanation while his hard cock is seated so deep inside you, but you do your best to understand. “That's the most common bite. That's not meant for you.”

Oh.

“It's not?”

“No. There's nothing common about us, love.”

Oh.

You let him kiss the momentary worry away, a funny feeling spreading to all your extremities as his words sink into your skin. “When a vampire bites someone, a venom is released from their teeth. It's usually used to numb them so they feel no pain or struggle too much as we feed, and to help the wound close up and heal quickly.”

Azriel trails off, leaning down to leave a sweet kiss over your skin, where you assume he wants to sink his teeth into. He keeps nuzzling your neck as he continues, looking almost scared of your reaction, “Vampires can bite their lovers too, and this venom will leave a mark behind,” he pauses, “I suppose it would be the equivalent of wearing a ring on your finger, one with my name on it.”

The weight of his confession sobers you, thinking back on all your memories with Azriel, all the times he made you laugh and held you when you cried, the advice he's given and asked from you, the way he's been by your side ever since you met, supporting and taking care of you. There isn't any doubt in your mind that you love him.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, you massage his scalp softly, trying to get rid of some of the tension that had built in his body while you thought through his words. Azriel lets out a satisfied sigh, relaxing against your body, and you take the opportunity to pry him away from your neck, holding his face in between your palms and meeting his gaze.

“You want to mark me as yours.” It's meant as a question, but it comes out sounding like a statement. He nods in response all the same, closing his eyes and giving you another kiss, as if he was scared it could be his only chance to. “I'd like that.”

“Need you to be sure about this,” he whispers against your lips.

“I am, Az,” you reassure quickly. “I want you to make me yours.”

The next kiss is significantly more passionate than any other you've shared that night. He explores your mouth slowly, tasting you thoroughly as his hips finally start moving again, grinding into you deeply, still keeping you on the edge. By the time he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips, you were already on the verge of begging once again.

Azriel adjusts your legs, wrapping them properly around him as he positions himself at your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin in a mix of excitement and a tiny twinge of fear. You trusted Azriel with your life, but it's not lost on you that you're serving yourself up on a platter to a creature that could easily kill you. Unfortunately, that only makes it so much more exciting.

“Try to stay as relaxed as you can, and don't hold your breath,” he mumbles against your neck, “I promise I'll make you feel good, love.”

His teeth sink into your skin as soon as the words leave his mouth, too quickly for you to properly react right away, stunning you for a second before the sharp pain registers and you can't fight a small gasp from escaping you. You can feel your body tensing, trying to distract yourself from the pain and relaxing like he told you to, his hand caressing you softly, helping you calm down.

The pain doesn't last long, in reality it might have only been a few seconds before it started dissipating. He hums against you when he feels your body melting into his, his thrusts speeding up a bit. That venom of his not only took your pain away but is also increasing your pleasure somehow, every little sensation just feels heightened.

It takes you a moment to notice the warm liquid running down your chest and likely dripping into the sheets, knowing it's your blood doesn't make you scared or even the slightest bit worried. In fact, the only thing on your mind are the muffled, little noises escaping his lips as he laps up as much of it as he can - he likes it, Azriel likes your blood.

Your fingers had found his hair at some point, hips chasing his as best as you can, movements becoming more sluggish as he not only fucked so deep inside you but also drank more and more of your blood. You were close, embarrassingly so, but with how long he had been teasing you before and the almost aphrodisiac reaction your body is having to that venom, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Azriel knew how close you were, whether from how much you were clenching around him or from the whiny, unintelligible babbles of his name and pleas escaping your lips, and right when you were about to throw yourself off that precipice head first, he bites deeper into you. It sends you into that orgasm even faster, your body conflicted on pushing away from the overwhelming amount of pleasure and pulling him in deeper when it hits you.

You wouldn't call your previous sexual experiences lacking in any way, but nothing could compare to what you were feeling in that moment. The sensations rushing through your body are indescribable, it makes you forget yourself, drowning completely in the pleasure.

It takes you a long time to even catch your breath as you come down, and it's only when he caresses your face as you finally open your eyes that you even notice he had pulled away, looking down at you with a satisfied look in his eyes even though he hasn't finished yet and barely got any stimulation of his own.

The moan that escapes you when your eyes fully come into focus is downright sinful. Nothing could have prepared you for the way Azriel looked in that moment, with his eyes glowing a deeper red, hair messy from your fingers twisting around it, and his canines on full display, covered in blood, your blood, as was the rest of his mouth and lips. The possessive look in his eyes as he watched you, already marked as his, didn't help either, it triggered your own possessiveness, knowing that it's your blood in his mouth, it's just a shame you can't bite him yourself.

What you could do was kiss him. Using every bit of strength still in your system to lift your face up, you try to meet his lips. Azriel stops you before you can though, pushing you away gently with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Let me wipe the blood off my face first.”

It was sweet that he was worried about you, but that was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted to taste him, needed to taste yourself on his tongue, and that's exactly what you did, grabbing the back of his neck firmly and pulling him down, meeting him halfway in a messy kiss.

You can feel the exact moment he realized you weren't worried about the blood, groaning into your mouth, a needy sound coming from deep within his chest, his hips stuttering into you. The kiss intensifies, sharp teeth clashing against yours, letting you taste yourself like you wished. You may not be able to sense the mark he left on you, as you were not a vampire like him, but the way he kissed you with your blood still in his mouth felt like a mark of your own.

Azriel pulls away after a while, letting you catch your breath, sitting up so he can properly look down at you. His red eyes took note of your entire body, starting on your heavy lidded eyes, still clouded with remnants of the intense orgasm, your abused lips, saliva and your own blood coating them, trailing down your neck, where he could see the puncture wounds healing thanks to his venom, but also his mark, the one that would let every vampire that came into contact with you know he was yours.

He had tried to not make too much of a mess, but it had proven damn near impossible when he tasted you, your sweet blood making him momentarily lose himself. Blood had dripped down onto your bed, thankfully he had put a towel under you beforehand, it also trailed down your neck, paving a delicious path between your breasts, pooling at your belly button, only a few drops managing to make their way down to your stuffed cunt.

There was little room for hesitation when you were looking up at him like that, basically begging him to do something. Azriel leans down for a moment, licking the bite mark once more, reveling in the tremble that runs through your body at the sting. As tempting as it was, you couldn't handle another bite. He'd have to do with the blood you had already let out for him.

He comes back up, gaze locking with yours, hands falling to your hips as he finally starts thrusting into you properly, a hard but slow pace, so he could still play with you without overwhelming you too fast.

“You're doing so well for me,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, but you hear him all the same, rewarding him with a sweet moan.

One of his hands abandons its grip on your hips in favor of running a thumb down the valley of your breasts, gathering the blood collected there and carrying it to one of your nipples, circling it slowly, making an even deliciously bigger mess, goosebumps running through your body as he does.

You looked unbearably close to another orgasm, the venom that heightened your pleasure still present in your system, but he wanted to keep you like this, you looked too adorable when you were this fucked out, letting him do every little dirty thing he wanted to you. He had always known you would be perfect for him, but you still managed to surpass his expectations.

Azriel switches hands and gathers up more of your blood, giving your other nipple the same treatment. His eyes constantly darted from the way you desperately tried to keep watching him, eyebrows scrunched together, to his thumb rolling over your nipple, and the way you took his thick cock so beautifully, unable to decide what sight was more enticing.

“Never thought ah- that you'd be so mean,” you manage between harsh breaths and needy whimpers.

He can't help but chuckle at that, stopping his movements around your nipple just to see the pout form on your lips. “I think I'm taking very good care of you, my love.”

Raising his thumb to his lips, he sucks the leftover blood on it, watching your eyes tracking his movements carefully, before offering it to you, breathing out a moan as you eagerly take it into your mouth, circling your tongue around it and sucking it clean with a devilish glint in your eyes - a payback of sorts, shame he had you in the palm of his hand today, maybe you'd get to try reducing him to the same state with your pretty mouth another time.

His finger comes out of your mouth with a pop, clean of any blood. That wouldn't do. Dipping right into your belly button he drags his thumb down to your clit, coating it in blood and rolling it around the same way he had done with each of your nipples, letting out sweet praises at how well you're taking him as he watches your body tremble under him.

The sight could have been enough to send him over the edge, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his control slipped and both of your moans got louder, more desperate. Not fucking you senseless had been a challenge ever since he first slipped inside you, stretching you out slowly until you fit perfectly around his cock, and now that you both got what you wanted, he had no patience left in his body.

Throwing a leg over his shoulder, Azriel starts fucking into you at a punishing pace, your moans rising in volume as you clench wildly around him, hands coming down to hold onto his wrists tightly, nails biting into his skin, both the venom and the way he's been teasing you for so long making you that more sensitive.

“Want you to feel you cum on my cock again, alright?” You nod quickly, fighting to keep your eyes open as another mind breaking orgasm approaches. “I'm right there with you.”

It doesn't take long for both of you to reach climax, your arms coming up to grab him down to you as you get lost in the pleasure once again, holding him so close even as you came down that Azriel felt his heart swelling in his chest.

This hadn't been how he envisioned telling you about his feelings, in fact he still needed to actually talk them through with you after washing away all the blood and cum off your body, but it ended up being perfect nonetheless, and as he kisses the mark he left on you one more time, he finds he has no regrets.

[jsfix]

Kinktober Week One - Ruined Orgasm

Pairing: x Reader

Summary: you send your boyfriend a mirror pic while he’s on patrol

Warnings: MDNI, this is my first time writing smut/kink, reader with a vagina but no pronouns or descriptions, reader wears their bfs shirt, oral + vaginal fingering (r receiving), teasing, lots of commas probably, sexting ig, he’s kinda mean, it’s not discussed but they do have a safe word, you don’t come.. obviously. I think that’s it pls tell me if i’m missing any thx

WC: 975

AN: this was originally meant to be a Tim fic but then I was like ‘thiiis doesn’t sound like him’ so it’s for whichever bat boy yall want it to be :) feedback is appreciated and welcomed!!

This was not your fault. Really. It wasn’t. Sure, you may have sent a slightly risqué photo to your boyfriend while he was out on patrol. But it wasn’t even that bad! Just a tasteful mirror pic of your upper half - messy hair, his favorite crop top hiding your chest but showing the expanse of your stomach down to where the picture cut off at your panty line. But you only sent it because that morning he had woken you up with a trail of kisses down your neck, hands wandering across your thighs inching closer and closer until - the alarm went off. He pulled away and, upon seeing your reaction, gave you a grin as he got ready for the day. 

That was fine. You got ready for work and went about your day. Until he’d sent you a voice message at the end of your lunch break that had you feeling really glad you’d decided to put on headphones before opening it. His moans flooded your ears, you could hear the wet sounds of his hand moving up and down his length, the hitch of his breath just before he was about to come. He came with a loud groan of your name. 

So, yeah. It’s not really your fault that you’ve been.. frustrated all day. One thing you could blame yourself for, you suppose, is forgetting that you can’t out-tease the tease. 

There was a glint in his eye, a slight smirk on his face when he came home. He found you on the bed, eyes raking up and down your figure as you smiled innocently up at him. 

“Hi, honey,” you said sweetly, “how was your night?”

“Fine,” he said, moving to take off his suit. 

You stood up to help him as you usually did. It was kind of a night-time routine. You couldn’t sleep while he was out protecting the city, your mind refusing to relax until you saw him again, safe and, mostly, unharmed. You’d catalogue any wounds he had before going to the first aid kit to get the supplies you needed. Tonight, though, he only had some bruises. Humming in approval, you looked back up at him. 

He took your face in his hands, smiling down at you before giving you a sweet kiss, then another kiss, rougher this time. You rested your hands on his bare chest as your kisses grew more and more intense. 

“Got my text?” You asked when you pulled up for air. He didn’t answer, that glint in his eyes returning as his mouth moved down to your neck. You sighed as he began sucking the skin there, hands reaching up to tug at his locks. 

His hands found your hips, pushing you gently until the backs of your knees hit the bed frame. He followed you as you laid back on the mattress, continuing to leave marks. He continued his kisses down your body to your clothed chest, taking a nipple between his lips over the fabric and sucking. You let out a moan. 

“Love you in my clothes,” he muttered, his hand coming up to cup the other side of your chest, kneading it. 

“I know.” His lips quirked as he switched sides, taking your other nipple into his mouth, hands caressing your hips as they jolted when he bit down. 

“Fuck!” You breathed out, moving your hips to grind against his before he pressed down on them, trapping you against the mattress with a tsk. 

“Slow down, baby,” he cooed, lips pressed against your stomach, leaving marks on his way down. He stopped right when he reached your underwear, avoiding where you needed him to suck at your thighs. You whined his name, fighting against his hands trying to find some friction. 

“God, you’re so needy,” he teased, biting down on your sensitive skin then using his tongue to soothe. 

“So desperate.. is that why you sent me a nude on patrol?” 

“It wasn’t a nude” you groaned out before deciding to mention his text from earlier that day. “And what about your-” you moaned as he finally brought his lips to your clit, pressing a kiss against it. 

“My what?” He smirked, this time licking against the wet patch on your underwear just as your lips parted. You gave up on trying to speak, moaning again sucked your clit through the fabric. 

“Please,” you moaned his name, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” He took off your underwear, fingers just barely pressing against your clit, making you whine as you tried to move your hips to make contact only for him to pull away. 

“Okay,” he snickered, moving back down to stare between your legs, parting your lips and watching you pulse, slick pouring out of you.  He let out a groan before taking your clit between his lips. 

The press of his tongue moving up and down your slit made moan, hand reaching again to tug at his hair, tugging harder as he slid a finger inside of you. He moaned into you, his own hips pressing against the bed to chase his own pleasure as he thrusted a second finger inside. 

The pleasure was overwhelming - your back began to arch, stomach tightening, hands tugging harder at his hair. Just as you felt yourself about to come, he pulled away from you with a groan. You cried out his name in frustration.

“Baby,” He ran his hands against your thighs soothingly, voice soft as he called your name, “You okay?” You nodded, your breathing calming as he wiped a stray tear from your face. “Maybe that’ll teach you not to tease.” He laid a kiss on your forehead before heading towards the kitchen to get you a glass of water. It wasn’t until he came back that you noticed the wet patch on the front of his boxers.

[capseycartwright]

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins)

Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.

Eddie couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he thought the words. If he couldn’t be a bit silly while having a sexuality crisis in a Catholic church – when could he? 

Christopher leaves for Texas, Eddie goes back to therapy, unearths an emotional lockbox he had been fourteen years old when he buried, and has a lot of thoughts about how Buck is sunshine incarnate. In hindsight, it probably should have been obvious he wasn't straight.

ao3 link

t’s been a long time since Eddie Diaz had set foot in a church – of his own accord, at least. He’d been to the christenings and communions and confirmations of all of his various nieces, nephews, and cousins, he’d sat stiff in the pew as he’d watched friends, and family get married, trying his best not to remember how own wedding day, the way Shannon’s hands had shaken in his grip as they promised to love each other until death do them part, both of them young, too young to understand the covenant they were signing up to. Eddie had been there, for all those occasions, but he hadn’t gone to mass, or even sat in a church, just because he wanted to in a very long time. 

He wasn’t even really sure if he wanted to be there today, but it was a Thursday, and Christopher was in Texas, and Eddie wasn’t working, and he’d been having an extended mental breakdown for the last few weeks, and before he knew it, he was sitting in the pew of St Brendan’s Catholic Church, listening to a softly spoken priest with an Irish lilt to his accent – faded, after years in America, Eddie presumed, but still there, noticeable in the inflection of certain words – recite the Our Father. 

Eddie had never been to St Brendan’s before, but it felt like every other church he’d been to in his life. They didn’t all look the same, necessarily, though they followed the same format, rows of uncomfortable wooden pews and an altar decorated in gold, as opulent as it was suffocating. Eddie had thought it beautiful, before, the way Catholic churches were decorated in gold and jewels, believing for so much of his life that the wealth honoured God – but living life had made him learn the grandeur and displays of wealth were nothing more than indicative of the wealth the Catholic church had hoarded while their devout followers starved, all in the name of faith and of God. True faith didn’t need to be gilded in gold to be sincere, he’d decided.

Eddie had never been to St Brendan’s before, but mass was the same. It didn’t change – though the wording of some of the prayers did. He’d sort of been checked out of being a regular churchgoer by time they had changed some of the prayers, only discovering the difference when he confidently started to recite it wrong at his youngest niece’s communion, his mother fixing him with a glare so icy hell might have frozen over under the power of Helena Diaz’s gaze alone. He’d never learned the new ones, not really, and so Eddie just recited the one’s he’d learned for his own confirmation, the words falling from his lips, muscle memory more than it was faith now. 

Our father, who art in heaven – hallowed be thy name . 

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, a little, as he murmured the prayer. Hallowed be thy name. He knew the prayer talked about God, their holy father, but the prayer had always made him think of his own father, of the way Ramon Diaz was a hallowed man in his own right, how he parented with an iron fist and expected to be obeyed. 

Things were getting better now, with his dad. Maybe – maybe that was part of the fear. Eddie had always been afraid of letting people down, but more than anyone, he was afraid of letting his father down – of seeing that look of disappointment set into every crease of his father’s face, an expression he’d been on the receiving end of for more of his childhood than he’d like to admit. Eddie had tried so hard to make sure he was never on the receiving end of that look again, but nothing he had ever done was good enough – not marrying Shannon, not the way he had tried to take responsibility for his young family, not the army, not the man he had been when he’d come home from Afghanistan. 

Distance had lessened the number of disappointed looks, but Eddie knew that was because he was simply not seeing them anymore; he was sure his father sometimes frowned at the phone when they’d finally call, silted conversation about Christopher and life at the firehouse the best either of them could muster. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was getting better. 

At least it had been, until his parents had taken Christopher with them to Texas. It hadn’t helped their relationship – but it hadn’t hindered it as much as Eddie had expected either. He was never going to thank them, for the way they had swooped in, ready to take Christopher at a moment’s notice, but he could thank them for giving his son the space that he needed to process. Eddie couldn’t give him that space, right now, but he was grateful someone could. Still – he would be ready to drive to Texas at the drop of a hat when Christopher decided he was ready to come home.

Things were getting better, that was the thing. His dad called, every night, to update Eddie on Christopher’s day. Eddie could hear the familiar sounds of the Diaz backyard as his dad softly spoke, telling Eddie about how Christopher had been to the lake, with his cousins, and how he’d finished another book, and how he was helping Helena to make dinner, right then. It had filled the gap until Christopher had started to call Eddie himself, his voice tinny as he mumbled over the phone, things not quite back to normal, Christopher not willing to talk to him about anything except Marvel and Minecraft and how abuela’s tamales were better than Eddie’s, but better than they were, at least. 

Every time they were on the phone, Eddie reassured his parents that he was working on himself. He was back seeing Frank, every week, and at Frank’s encouragement, he’d joined a veteran’s support group. Eddie wasn’t exactly the picture-perfect military veteran he assumed he needed to be, to join a veteran support group, but the rag-tag group that met at his community hall every month weren’t exactly the flag-wearing, gun-toting veterans he’d expected them to be. James was a 63-year-old man from Massachusetts who ran the group – he had moved out to LA to live with his daughter after he retired and referred to himself delightedly as a stay-at-home grandfather. Luisa was a vet around Eddie’s own age, and she’d gone back to university after she got out of the army and got a fine arts degree. She liked to paint, and talked about her wife with a reverence and openness that Eddie could only admire. 

He hadn’t said a word the first time he went, and Buck had sat in the Jeep in the carpark, a ready-made escape plan for Eddie in case he decided it was all too much. Eddie had sat quietly as the group had chatted, drinking tea and coffee out of flimsy paper cups, and eating homemade biscuits – made by James, who, as it turned out, was quite the prolific baker – and he’d watched. He’d watched as the group had talked about their bad days, and their good days, and how they were coping with life after the military, and not a single glorious war-story was exchanged. 

That was when Eddie knew it was safe to keep going. He was never going to be a man who was proud of his service, and he didn’t want to have to attend a support group of people who’d talk about their time in the military like it was the good old days. He had spoken a little more, the second time he went – Buck doing his groceries, two streets away, rather than sitting in the carpark – and he’d introduced himself, his voice gruff as he tried to figure out what version of Eddie he wanted to present to the world. 

Eddie was still figuring that part out – the version of himself he wanted to be, that is. 

He was figuring himself out. That was the point. He was trying, he was really trying – and people could see that, Eddie was sure. His parents said they could, at least.

Which was why he was here – in a church not dissimilar to the one he’d attended every Sunday in El Paso growing up – on his knees, praying to a God he wasn’t sure he actually believed in for guidance. 

read the rest on ao3

[glitterjay]

— AND LIFE STARTED SOUNDING LIKE A PIANO | LHS

﹒ꕀ﹑je te laisserai des mots

GENRE fluff, college au SYNOPSIS heeseung's life seemed to be a lot darker and more depressing than usual. after his previous girlfriend broke up with him, all he did was sit around and do nothing. if he could describe what was going on inside him, he would probably use the sound of crashing waves in the middle of the night to represent the disaster within him. but who would have thought he'd find comfort in a girl who was trying to learn how to play the piano? WARNINGS not proofread

it had become routine for you to spend time in the music room that housed a piano. it had always been your dream to learn how to play, and now that you had one within reach, you couldn't let the opportunity slip by.

no one was ever in that room unless there was a class going on, and no one really bothered to go in when they heard the instruments being used. it was perfect for a single girl to learn at her own pace.

heeseung, though, had lost any interest in instruments and singing. knowing he’d spend hours in front of that same piano last semester, writing or learning songs for his now ex-girlfriend made him sigh in frustration. sometimes relationships just don’t work, and he understood that. but damn did it hurt once it was over.

it was the weekend, which meant you could spend even more time trying to learn, "lights are on." It was a simple yet beautiful melody that could get you used to using both hands on the keyboard.

heeseung was just passing by at the time you started playing. wearing a simple, loose white t-shirt accompanied by gray sweatpants and slippers. if he was honest, he really didn't feel like going to sunghoon's dorm, but he knew he had to get out of his own at some point.

the melody had caught his attention for a second, and he shook it off. just as soon as he was about to turn the corner, he heard you smash all the keys at once—a sign of frustration he knew a little too well.

his body had stayed still for some reason, still listening to your attempts at getting the chords right. after the breakup, heeseung felt like all he could hear was static noise. sometimes it even felt like waves crashing over his ears, preventing any other type of sound from being heard.

but as soon as he heard the melody of the piano coming from the room, his point of view had changed a little. it was a nice sound that didn't make him feel like he was drowning.

once again, you hit all the keys at once, releasing a very loud sigh right afterward. heeseung walked back to the open door that was allowing him to hear everything. sunghoon and his friends could wait after all.

he stood there for quite a few minutes until you noticed his figure. it was then that you offered him a smile and a small wave. heeseung smiled back without even thinking about it and nodded in response.

"you play the piano?" he asked. simple and obvious question, but a great conversation starter.

"would you believe me if i say no?"

"no."

"then, i guess i do know how to play the piano."

he smiled and pointed at your hands resting on the keys. "press any of those," he said. you found his request quite strange, but you pressed one of the notes nonetheless. "see, you do know."

and without even noticing it, heeseung had spent the next couple of weeks helping you master the song you were learning. he would joke about why you didn’t pick an easier song like “married life,” and you’d simply tell him that you wanted to go above and beyond.

when he knew he'd be too busy to be with you, he would go to the music room at night and leave notes for you to follow the next day.

to you, it was a great way of interacting with new people outside your friend group, and it was nice to finally have someone with the same passion as you. on the other hand, heeseung felt like his life was starting to come back to him. It started to sound like the beautiful melody of the most expensive piano.

© glitterjay | tumblr

happy semi c comeback :]

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and Being a Pseudo-Father

So, I know some of you probably saw the father thing and were like- Woah, another Billy and Connor thingy? Nah. Two words: Wonder Girl.

Anyways, the specific Wonder Girl I’m talking about is Cassandra Sandsmark. If you’ve watched Young Justice, you’d know she’s there. Also, in this alternate universe, the JL doesn’t know Billy is like 12 years old.

It starts off Marvel, I don’t know, eating or something. Then, Cassandra walks in the room, and all of a sudden in the divine twitch chat, he just hears Zeus talk about “oh my daughter!” So Billy pauses mid bite of cereal and just stares at her for a bit. He’s sort of confused because he thought Diana was the only daughter of Zeus as far as he knew. Let alone the only daughter of Zeus associated with the Justice League.

Meanwhile, Cassandra is like, “is that the dude is supposed to be watching over us?” She walks over to him and introduces herself:

Cassie: “Hey, I’m Wonder Girl. You’re the dude who fills in for Black Canary when she’s not here, right?”

Marvel: *Finally finishes his bite of cereal.* “Huh, oh, yeah. I’m Captain Marvel. You can just call me Cap, or Marvel, or any other variation you can think of.”

Cassie: “Wait really? Wonder Woman told me about you. She said you were her sort-of older brother.”

Marvel: *Almost regurgitates his cereal* “She said that?” *Pauses to actually think about it* “I mean I guess we are, huh? He’s one of the gods that sponsors me. He also kinda had a hand in making me.”

Cassie: “He had a hand in making me too!”

They hang out a whole lot more times after that and soon they develop a big brother/little sister relationship. And then one day, while they’re, let’s say training or something.

Marvel: “Hey, I was wondering if you want to help me kill a bunch demons.”

Cassie: “That sounds… amazing. Let’s do it.”

Cue the two going to some place in the Himalayas where demons keep crossing over. They then brutally massacre them all. Marvel even offers Cassie his cape to wipe the blood off her face, much to the outrage of a few of the gods in his head. They then go get ice cream from a random little stall in China, where Billy spends around 15 minutes trying to see if he could use magic to convert his few measly dollars into yuan. They eventually do and they end up sitting on a bench, ignoring the many people taking pictures.

Cassie: *Eating her ice cream* “Hey… uh- I wanted to thank you for doing this.”

Marvel: *Pauses eating his own ice cream* “Huh? What do you mean? Getting you ice cream?”

Cassie: “Nah. For- uh, I don’t know? Doing stuff with me?” *exudes awkwardness* “God, this is- So like, I never really get to spend a whole lot of time with my mom cause she used to like, leave me on my own a lot because of business trips. She was an archeologist. So she used to fly around the world and stuff. So you doing stuff like this, taking me to fight demons, taking me to fight monsters, taking me to fight ghosts, it really means a lot to me? I think?”

Marvel: *Looks super surprised by her words* (not even by the whole thing. Just one sentence) “Your mom was an archeologist? Dude, my parents were too.”

Cassie: “Wait really?”

The two then go on the completely forget everything Cassie just said as the topic about archeologist parents soon spiraled into multiple different conversations.

[ma1dita]

ready your position

part 1 of 5 - SET IT UP!

spencer reid x gn!HRT!reader

summary: [3x9: Penelope] Sometimes second chances feel like shots in the dark. You just really wanted a cup of coffee. (set between seasons 3 & 4, loosely based off of set it up on netflix--reader is nicknamed ripley)

wc: 6k

content warning: signs of substance abuse, reader gets shot, side character death, unhealthy coping mechanisms & thinking

a/n: so sorry for the delay! i had a lot of insecurities about putting this out but well, here it is! lots of plot set up but pt 2 won’t take as long haha, please please please leave feedback or i might cry lol

—

[NOVEMBER 2007]

"So what are you in for today?"

A scoff leaves your lips in the dim light of one of the HR offices in the Employee Assistance Unit on the 6th floor of Quantico on a dreary Monday evening and it's intentionally disruptive, like you want the terse breath to catch your therapist off-guard. This routine of yours has you feeling like you're being examined under a magnifying glass but after countless hours of your ass getting pins and needles on the worn leather loveseat, you're still not entirely sure what else there is for Ms. Stevens to discover. Every psychological stone is never left unturned with her, but some burdens you still hold close to your heart. They feel like boulders that you choose to carry, and no one can take them away, lest you leave yourself exposed and vulnerable in front of a woman who can read you to filth.

"Agent?"

"Come on now, we're past the formalities, Miss. S'been more than half a year of us meeting like this. Think I deserve a reward at this point," the joke chokes itself out past your chewed bottom lip. Eyes scanning the ceiling, you mentally count the tiles until you can find a plausible enough answer to the question she's positively dying to ask about the monumental blow-up that could make or break your career, and maybe if you skate by with something noncommittal she'll let you out of here early. 30 salt and pepper sprinkled ceiling tiles, just like this time last week.

"Ripley, then," Ms. Stevens murmurs over a sip of her tea. The smell of ginger pierces your senses even from your spot against the wall. Your eyes meet over her FBI standard-issue mug and she's waiting for you to fill the silence and confirm her thoughts. You hate this game; being hyper-analyzed by the way you lean against the chair, or the tapping of your fingers on your thigh. 

Every move means something. Being a member of the FBI's Hostage and Rescue Team meant that you've been hardwired to always find a way out of any space you're put into, and somehow the job has translated into your day-to-day coping mechanisms as your eyes flicker towards the door.

Coping. Right. That's what you're supposed to be doing.

Sometimes you forget the reason why you're here every week— but no matter how painful or teeth-grating these appointments feel, they're the only constant you have right now. And they're mandatory, or else there's no going back to normal; any more time sitting at a desk makes you more anxious even if it's what's been prescribed by professionals like the one sitting across from you.

"You already know why I'm here. I know the big boss man already told you, and if not—office gossip spreads here like wildfire," you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. Ms. Stevens takes note of that and writes something down in her notepad. "It's not what you think."

"You shot an unsub point blank and cost the FBI $4000 in damages."

Chuckling lowly, you run your hand through your hair, "Sheesh. You'd think for glass that expensive it'd be bulletproof, huh?" She's not laughing though, instead scribbling down more words and you think she's signing away your rights to rejoin your team. It wasn't supposed to be a big deal— you were just at the right place at the right time, and although you haven't been in rotation since your mandatory leave and the higher-ups put authorization holds to stop you from being on operations, that didn't mean you were just sitting around doing nothing. You still knew how to do your job, whether Ms. Stevens believed it or not. The shot you took made the weekly newsletter. Agent Fuchs and his family sent you a fruit basket this morning. Agents Hotchner and Rossi know your name now, for better or for worse. 

It was a bit of an odd way to end the weekend.

If anything, it was proof that you were ready to get back in action. But the subtle frown on her face says otherwise, and you swallow harshly, a lump in your throat feeling heavy like the truth— Ms. Stevens probably won't let this one go.

You realize she's staring at you for a better answer now as your eyes refocus on her fingers tapping on her desk. Nodding your head, it prompts her to ask the question that she's been holding back since you sat down. One could almost feel bad for the amount of paperwork that probably goes into your weekly sessions. 

Almost.

"How did you find yourself involved with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Ripley?" she emphasizes, finally getting to the point. Sucking air through your teeth, you tuck your legs underneath your bottom on the uncomfortable seat. This is going to take a while to explain.

"I just wanted a cup of coffee, man."

—

A WEEK AGO

No one can deny that Dr. Spencer Reid's best asset is his brain. 

He knows it too— the fact is one of the few things he's sure about himself. Other people are much easier to figure out to be honest; case details scrolling through his brain like a frenzied catalog and each input has an output, each symptom with a diagnosis, and so on. The neocortex of the brain has about 300 million pattern recognizers that crave data able to turn into patterns or rules, and Spencer is used to staying late after cases conclude to write down all of the reasons why. Something about unraveling the unsub's methodology in case files is just as exciting to him as when he's in the field figuring out the why—mind the fact that he can read 20,000 words a minute. 

In his periphery, he can see the rest of the team settling into their desk chairs, but he's traipsed straight over to the office kitchenette for something to fuel his brain to be able to mince through the stack of paperwork on his desk. He's ignoring the fact that Emily slips a few more onto his pile, but what he can't ignore as he stands over the counter stirring in way more sugar into his cup than there is coffee, is you, walking through the glass doors virtually undetected by anyone but him.

The metal of his teaspoon clinks against his mug, and a side glance at your form reveals a lot to him— but not quite as much as he would like to know about a person at first glance. Stiffness in your posture indicates some sort of military background, there's a slight tremor in your hands as you reach for the mug on the top shelf—probably attributed to nerves? Most likely since he's never seen you on this floor before. You blink slower than average, and Spencer thinks it's a sign of exhaustion which checks out since you're blatantly stealing coffee from the BAU.

Sending a soft smile his way, Spencer quickly eases up and nods at you, sipping his coffee as he watches you move about the small space. Okay, stealing is a vast over-exaggeration, but in an office filled with FBI agents, it's a wonder that he's the only one noticing these types of things. He's also staring at you very intently, which might affect things.

That or the caffeine's already hit him like a punch in the face. 

You're pouring some of Penelope's homemade oat milk creamer and he observes the way you play with a fray on your knit sweater. There's something that clinks in your jean pocket and it's too small to be a gun, too big to be—oh! You're saying something to him.

"You mind?"

Spencer clears his throat, ripping his eyes away from your crotch as a blush rises upon his cheeks—shaking his head anyway until he realizes that you've taken the spoon out of his hand to swirl into your own mug, sipping at it and frowning.

"You're not from this floor," he states, and it's not a question because it's rare to have people break patterns around here at the BAU and you're far too comfortable to be a civilian but still on edge enough for him to think you must be an agent. Humming, he notes the furrow in your brow as you grab the sugar canister from in front of him, stirring in your preferred amount and tasting it, then adding more again, "Yeah?"

"There are 12 desks in here; 2 executive offices not including our section chief's, liaison's, and higher admin surrounding the bullpen, plus 6 members of custodial staff and the auxiliary agents that run in from different departments—I would know a face like yours," he blurts, blinking when you grin at how that sounds. Dismissing his blunder, you lean back against the counter and chuckle, "You're protective of your turf. I get it. That's good. I'm just here for a cup of coffee. Smelled the good stuff wafting through the glass doors," Handing him back the spoon, he can't help but stand there and hold it out like an idiot as you continue, "You want my credentials or something…. Doctor?"

"No, not at—" "Ah, perfect!"

Rossi grabs the mug out of your hand and takes a big swig as he looks at something on his phone distractedly, "Anderson was supposed to have a cup ready for me as soon as we got back… Why is this uh….watery?"

"Oat milk, sir," you say, taking it in stride as the older man crinkles his nose, mumbling his thanks, walking back to his office. Your eyes meet Spencer's with an amused expression and he sighs. The watch on your wrist beeps and you give him a two-fingered salute as you make your way out of the glass doors behind you eastbound; his gaze doesn't break until you're out of sight.

A hand claps him on the shoulder and it's Morgan with that look he gets when he sees the resident pretty boy with a person of interest (also known as when Spencer is caught talking to anyone, ever), "Now who…" he chuckles, squeezing him so hard that his drink spills a little bit, "was that?"

Spencer blinks, pouring more sugar into his mug and stirring it with the spoon, "Definitely not a secretary like Rossi thinks…." He takes a sip before realizing he's made a mistake. Besides the fact the mug he drank from is contaminated now, he's forgotten to ask for your name.

"At least that's what I'm trying to figure out."

—

It has been exactly 8 and a half months since you've been an active operator for the HRT's Red team. 37 weeks of trying to come to terms that Special Agent Charlie Young is dead. 258 days since your childhood best friend Harper was made a widow and her baby left without a father. And no matter what way you put it, it was your fault. Or at least no matter what everyone's been trying to tell you, it still felt that way since he took a bullet that was meant for you.

You spent your 6 months of paid mandatory leave in the confines of your apartment nursing bottles of Jameson, watching old telenovelas, and avoiding phone calls from anyone who would try to reach out. But in the space that Charlie's absence left behind is the reality that everything in life keeps moving on whether you like it or not. You caught yourself craving your old routine to prove to yourself that nothing's changed; that you're still capable of being the elite agent that worked your way onto this prestigious team in the first place.

So as you lie in wait in an unmarked car outside of 107 Leavensworth, you plan to do just that—follow through with the mission, this second chance—and prove that nothing can shake you. The next operations cycle starts soon and you have to make this count. Your eyes lock with Agent Morgan's as he crosses the road arm in arm with Penelope. Nodding at him, you slink further into your seat. There's a long night ahead, but hopefully, the only thing that will be bothering you tonight is your thoughts.

When they pass the courtyard, your eyes flicker back towards the empty street, checking every which way for possible suspects. It's quiet, and the air is a bit chilly, the wind sweeping through the street like a frosty vacuum. Your phone buzzes with another text from Harper, a voicemail from your mother, and unread emails.

[From Harpy: Have an extra table setting out for Thanksgiving. Your two favorite girls would love to see you if you can make it! Miss you Rip.]

[Missed call from Mama: Hi honey, I know you're probably busy but I'm worried about if you're eating enough. You're overw—]

The sounds of footfalls on pavement draw your attention away from the voicemail as a man comes near, swiftly passing the direction of your car with the purpose of walking into the apartment courtyard. You slide out with ease, throwing your phone to the passenger seat before making your presence known to him, "Can I help you with something? What’s your bus—"

BANG!

Gunshots are so much louder when you're the one being shot at. 

You swear you feel your heart stop beating as your body hits the ground, ears ringing from the shock that ravages your being and you just…lay there in the smoke of his revolver. The spinning view you have of the stars is interrupted by the sound of Derek Morgan's voice yelling into your walkie, "WE HAVE A FEDERAL AGENT DOWN, I REPE—"

You swallow hard, fingers sliding over the breastplate of your bulletproof vest and feeling the gaping hole left behind.

Fuck, can't even die right. 

Pushing yourself up and feeling nothing but the gravel in your palms, you wheeze, "He's getting away…Two blocks northbound. GO!" The man tweaks his head at you before springing into action, "I got her, GO!" And then his body moves as fast as you suppose that bullet did— surging towards the assailant's direction as you clear your throat and dust yourself off and look up at Penelope's window, her beaded curtains shuffling against the glass.

"Disregard. 10-78, Agent Morgan is pursuing, I have eyes on the vic…"

Rushing up the stairs, there's a tremor in your hand that slides along the banister. You need to push through the shock before the adrenaline wears off, but the faster you fly up the circular staircase, the memories hit you like a tidal wave. The sound of Charlie singing to his baby girl, Harper's smile when you first introduced them at the Academy a few years ago. Lactic acid builds up in your calves and your chest feels tight—your joints feel stiff as you stumble through the door blowing air out in puffs like someone does when they get burned. In the dark of the apartment, moonlight shrouds you like a spotlight and the singing and the laughter turn into blood and tears.

You'll never forget the way Harper looked at you in that hospital waiting room. It should've been you. Weaving through the fallen furniture, your eyes scan the perimeter for any movement; she was last near the window, and then where did she go? It should've been you. Turning the corner towards the alcove of her bedroom, Penelope Garcia's scream pierces through the darkness, and a gun is pointed towards your chest for the second time tonight as you stumble back, bumping a sparkly cat statue off her side table. It should have been you.

"Don't s-shoot!" you stutter, hands in the air and now the colorful woman is sobbing into your arms, blubbering, "Why is this happening to me?"

"I don't know…" you sigh, asking yourself the same question and holding her up—at least her hug is tight enough that it squeezes the truth out of you. You don't want to die. 

But why didn't you?

Your second chance at fixing things was looking more and more like a second shot in the dark.

—

By the time Spencer and the rest of the team show up, he's pleasantly surprised to see you making coffee in Garcia's kitchen. You're a shadowy figure against her counter, sipping honey tea from a TARDIS mug and minding your business. The BAU has staged themselves across every open seat in her living room, almost looking like a part of the bits and bobs that occupy the space—different personalities contributing to help out one of their own. 

Hotch looks at you, introducing you to them and Spencer holds back a smile when your eyes meet again. It's awkward, like when the teacher introduces a new student to the class. You shuffle your feet towards the group, nodding and biting your lip when you hear your name, "Call me Ripley. S'easier that way. I'm on loan from HRT."

"Glad you were available. The rest of your team was deployed," his boss says, and there's something in your expression that signals to Spencer that you're upset about that fact. Maybe it's the way your hands graze over your abdomen repeatedly, like checking for a wound or the way your eyes are consistently downcast. Even after your empty mug is placed onto a sage green doily, he watches you clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest as if blocking yourself off from the group. 

"It was a favor from Otis. My night was going to look like this or catching up on Days of Our Lives, so… Anyway, you guys are held in high regard in our area. For good reason."

"And so are you," Hotch actually smiles, soft enough like a father softens a blow, "Head back to the office and I'll tell Agent Otis that you did a great job."

"Um…Ripley can stay. We're friends now," the bubbly analyst says as she pushes her glasses up and grabs your arm.

"I don't want to intrude on your process—" "You won't be intruding at all," Spencer interrupts, "In fact, you might be more of an asset in helping us figure this out."

The pieces fall together as you watch the BAU work together like different organs that make up the same body, each with its own function and essential to their success. You take a seat next to him on the sofa, your eyes ricocheting off of the person who speaks like ping-pong balls and he knows it's overwhelming to some, but it works. 

"I told you I'm tired of this jag-off getting ahead of us," Rossi grits as he walks out of the apartment after grilling Garcia. There's an awkward silence once the team splits off and you don't move from your spot after the door closes, "He always like that? Looks friendlier in his author's headshot." Emily chuckles, hair brushing Garcia's shoulder as she leans over her laptop, and Morgan is pacing across the hardwood floors, fingers touching every little trinket to distract himself while his Babygirl works her magic.

"He's newer to the idea of a team."

Spencer has a heart-shaped throw pillow on his lap and he absent-mindedly plays with the sequins. He watches you chew on your lip before nodding, "Can imagine what that change feels like. Never easy. You guys are something else though—my Reds could never…get together like this."

"Isn't that the whole premise of the Hostage and Rescue Team? To be part of something?" The raven-haired woman pipes up, looking curiously at you. 

"Well, really it's to s—"

"Servare vitas—that's Latin for the HRT's motto 'to save lives'," Spencer hums, and you nod. There's a distant look in your eyes as you look off towards the window before speaking, "We just follow orders, I guess. In and out. It's funny how we're called operators when in reality we're the ones being ordered around." Your voice is wistful, going hoarse and you clear your throat. 

"Anyways, didn't Agent Rossi have three wives or something? Maybe he just needs to focus on finding a fourth."

The subject change lifts the tension that fills the room, everyone having a bit of a laugh at that. Morgan admires a blown glass ornament from Garcia's mantle before he moves his gaze to you, "He got it wrong three times, you think he'll find someone to lock it down for a fourth?"

"Actually, did you know that studies have found that the rate of divorce in the US is about 35% to 50% for first-time marriages and over 60% to 70% for second, third, or fourth marriages and beyond?"

No one moves a muscle at the statistic that spews out of his mouth like something from a well-oiled machine and you turn to him, full attention and tucking your legs underneath you with eyes full of wonder. He doesn't remember the last time someone's ever looked at him with anything other than mild unease.

"Really?"

"Really," he continues, "so even if you knew someone who could…" "Match his freak?" You suggest, interrupting him this time, and your choice of words makes Garcia giggle over the chatter of her keyboard, "I knew you were a cool cat."

He doesn't quite know what to say to that, always fumbling for words in front of attractive people, making Morgan send him a sidelong glance. Spencer goes back to playing with the sequined pillow instead.

"I got someone like that too. Hard to prove yourself when they don't give you a chance. It's like credentials, seniority, all that training goes out the window when I'm in front of them."

"Your boss?" Spencer mumbles, and you shrug, "Something like that." You sound like you don't want to share more, so he nods, saving your words for him to scroll through in his mind later, "He's definitely not Gideon." 

'Who's Gideon?" You ask, finishing off your cup of tea and leaning against the back of the sofa. It's comfy enough that all of your limbs sink in slightly, and he watches your eyes flutter with fatigue. Spencer tries not to get distracted by the way your eyes sparkle in the twinkly lights that hang from the walls of Garcia's apartment.

"He was…before. Before Rossi. Taught me everything I know."

"Must've been a good guy then, if you're this good at your job," you smile. It's the same smile you sent his way in the office kitchenette, soft yet like a shockwave, and he thinks that even without his eidetic memory, he'd remember your words forever.

"Mhm…" you muse, putting the cover of the TARDIS mug back where it belongs and standing up, "I should get back to the office. It was nice meeting you all, despite the circumstances." You nod at them, passing Garcia and patting her head before humming a tune on your way out.

"Ripley's kinda great, huh?"

Spencer nods, a small smile gracing his features. When he looks up, Garcia's staring right at him. Only the two of them recognize the Doctor Who theme song, after all.

—

You desperately need a drink.

You're sitting on Anderson's desk staring at the mess you've made of the BAU's bullpen, shattered glass sparkling like little fractals of light on the floor beneath your feet and this night just got longer. By the time they process your gun and get your official statement it'll be sunrise, you think. You can't look at the body even after they cover it with a tarp, the rest of the team tiptoeing through the debris in the entryway. This one's gonna be tough to explain to your superiors.

"Ripley!"

Penelope Garcia is rushing over to you and hanging off your side in a second, making the empty feeling in the pit of your stomach go away for a moment with her eyes shining like tinsel on Christmas morning and the guilt feels a bit lighter. You did a good thing. Then why…why won't your hands stop shaking?

"I never wanted you to do something like that for me," she starts, rubbing your arms and looking up into your eyes, "Do you hear me? Ripley."

You didn't even blink when you shot him, and you don't know if anyone would consider that the best or worst part of it all. Shrugging and placing your cheek against the hand that remains on your shoulder, you purse your lips, "I hear ya. I'll be okay now that you're gonna be okay," You sniff, blinking slowly as you watch your boss walk in, exchanging words with Fuchs and Hotch. "'Sides. We're friends now. You do what you have to when protecting your own." Your voice shakes a bit as you trail off, torn between the grateful smile on Garcia's face and the unreadable expression on your boss'.

"I had some time earlier, during everything going on—I work quick you know? And I do little crafts when I get stressed, so…" You feel a familiar piece of clothing being pressed into your hands, and it's your jacket. You didn't even realize you left it at her apartment, ripping it off after getting shot. A small embroidered pink flower now occupies the space where the bullet hole was. She giggles, squeezing your hand as you run it over her handiwork, "Sorry I only had pink thread."

"Pretty. Even better like this. You're a genius, you know that?"

The look on her face reminds you of a little kid who gets told their drawing is a work of art, but you revel in it. Despite the fact you might lose your job for insubordination, or whatever else Ms. Stevens can tack on—Otis is still looking at you from across the room, a talk imminent for your behavior. The HRT is risk intolerant, and though you saved a life today, you took someone else's.

"I read through your file."

Your eyes rip back and meet Penelope's as she stares at you hard through her glasses, "Uh…"

"Don't worry, just me. I just… get it now. The way you walked into my apartment earlier and you couldn't catch your breath, why you're the only Red left behind. I mean I'm like that after any type of cardio, and totally get it too, I…" she stops herself, and grabs your hands, "I get it. I've been there. I just want you to know I'm here if you want to talk, without the dark office and psych evaluation."

"You sure you're not a profiler?" you say simply, smirking. She laughs more freely than she has in days, patting your cheek, "Ripley, if I was, I wouldn't have been able to pass along your reinstatement papers. Your boss will see that soon enough. Again, thank you." 

You can't do anything but laugh—any type of unease lifting from your system before you catch a certain spectacled analyst staring at your new friend, and you nudge her, "You know, with all the heat I'm getting right now—No one's looking at me like that." Garcia grins, looking over her shoulder and then back to you.

"Do you believe everything happens for a reason?"

As you watch her saunter over and talk to the guy, you start to believe it too. 

A steaming cup of coffee is placed next to your thigh and you look over to see Spencer leaning against the other edge of the desk watching you.

"Just the way you like it."

You beam at him, leaning over to gulp the scorching liquid. The steam spreads in the short distance between you as you cock your head at him, "You remembered!"

He shrugs like it's nothing of the sort, the small gesture warming you just as much as the coffee does as it travels to your stomach. 

"Do you know how hard it's been to get a cup of coffee around here?"

And then the two of you are giggling like schoolchildren, hiding behind furtive glances and shaking hands like there isn't a dead body covered by a tarp 10 feet away from where you sit. He nervously scratches at the pit of his elbow, unsure of what to say next but the moment is broken when Otis and Hotch walk over, effectively silencing your laughter. Spencer walks away quickly.

"Listen…"

Your boss sighs, rubbing at his bald head as he looks at you, "Let me guess, I'm not gonna believe what happened?" Hotch raises his eyebrows, "So you weren't kidding, Otis. That's why this agent goes by Ripley."

"You always have a way of doing things your own way, Rip."

Grimacing, your hands tighten around the mug as you look at your superior in the eye, "I followed orders and saved a life today. The rest.. was just because I really was trying to get a cup of coffee," The two men stare at you curiously, almost forming a blockade around your position on the desk, "Penelope adds vanilla and cinnamon to her oat milk." Otis looks unconvinced, still not blinking. 

"I'm serious! It's delicious!"

Otis pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. As he goes, he calls out, "You're back on for the next cycle." You spring up almost as if electrocuted, "Seriously? Can't take that back!"

"Don't do anything to make me want to," your boss says when he gets to the entryway, sweeping glass with the sole of his shoe, "No more surprises. I mean it, Ripley. Keep it up."

"Congratulations are in order then," Hotch says, shaking your hand, "I'll get the detective over to speed up your clearance. We all need a good night's rest."

"Thank you, sir."

Nothing can take away the elation that runs through your veins—like being brought back from the dead. You did what you set out to do, you made your second chance count and now you're an operator again. The type that saves lives and is in action instead of just filing paperwork and watching day go to night without feeling fulfilled. Excitement blurs your senses, your knee hopping up and down and it's not the coffee but the feeling of being useful again after all this—

"And Agent?"

"Sir?" you blurt out, looking up at Hotch, face falling at his next words, "I'm sorry for your loss. Agent Young would be proud of you." You smile at him and the emptiness sets back in when he turns away, immediately taking a big gulp of your drink as the muscle memory sinks in. 

It's not his fault of course. But how foolish of you to forget why it all happened in the first place. Your quest for redemption and who you've lost on the way here. Would Charlie be proud? Looking around the room for prying eyes, you twist off the cap of the flask that sits in your pocket with nimble fingers, slipping it into your long sleeve and pouring the contents into your mug until it's empty. As you take a sip, your eyes meet Spencer's over the brim and your heart lodges itself in your throat as you try to wash it all down. He nods anyway, scratching the nape of his neck and averting his eyes as he comes back to sit next to you.

"It all makes sense now."

The whiskey acts as a security blanket, protecting your feelings from what he might say next. It'd be better to pretend to not care what the doctor thinks of you, but when his shoulder nudges yours, you realize you do.

"Hmm?"

"Ripley. Did you know Robert Ripley originally titled his sports feature Champs or Chumps when it premiered in the New York Globe in 1918?" Spencer says like he didn't just catch you in the act. 

"You don't have to do this, y'know," you sigh, your mouth wavering over the now-cold beverage. Being patronized over your alcoholism might just send you into a bender if we're being honest, but then he scratches at his elbow again, sleeve rolling up slightly—and then you see the dots along his skin. Faint traces of fights neither of you bring to the surface go unspoken and for the first time in a year, someone sees you—vices and all and doesn’t recoil. There’s a wave that passes between you, hidden from the people that scatter the room and you can feel something crash over you in his presence. You think you might like it, even possibly sure of it when he speaks again.

"Why not? Obscure facts are right up my alley."

The sun rises on Quantico in the big windows behind you, framing everything in a new light.

—

"So are you?"

You blink slowly, torn from the reverie. It's been almost an hour of piecing together the parts you want to tell Ms. Stevens about how last night led to getting reinstated and earning your spot back on your team. The rest…you left out to not overcomplicate the situation. Come on… everyone lies to their therapist even a little bit.

"Hmm?"

She looks at you intently from a sentence she scribbles onto her notepad, "Are you ready to go back to work?"

Glancing at the ceiling, and then to the placard on her desk, Kirsten Stevens, EAC in blocky white font—you put your thoughts into words, "I mean even if I wasn't, I have to. This is my job. I have to do it well."

"But are you ready? Do you feel… able to do it well?"

Your eyebrows furrow, "I feel like you think I'm not—even if I've already proven I can." Ms. Stevens sighs, pulling her hair back into her claw clip and clasping her fingers together. Disappointment reeks from her stare, and you can't get to the bottom of why this woman seems like she's out to get you. You do the training, you perform well on the job, what else is there to worry about? The timer beeps, signaling the end of your session and you push off your knees, getting up from the couch. Your joints creak, frowning as you're still waiting for her to say something.

"Ripley. No one's saying you can't do your job well. What I am saying is, that until you admit to yourself that something's wrong…that feeling won't go away. You can't just run from your past," she says calmly. It's almost irritating, and a part of you wishes she'd yell at you instead. 

"I'm not running. I'm facing it head-on by doing what he would want me to do. Charlie would want me to get back to normal and be back at work." 

And she nods at you, turning back to her notepad and handing you a sheet detailing the inner work you have to do before your next appointment, "I can agree with that. We'll move you to every two weeks now since you're heading back to work. I hope to hear from you about any new updates…" Ms. Stevens says, continuing but the rest you don't listen to. She didn't even mention Charlie and he's all everything comes back to. If this is the help she’s prescribing, why does it still feel like you’re drowning?

You walk out of her office with the paper in your clenched fist and your phone in the other as you shoot a text to Penelope.

[To PG: Hey, I hope you're feeling better! Can you send me Dr. Reid's number? I need to ask him something. Also, Rossi's definitely single right? Asking for a friend (not me).]

—

"Let's say you've swallowed a bad thing and now it's got its hands inside you. This is the essence of love and failure." - Richard Siken

[ask to be added to taglist]

[collaredsoldat]

Cold Metal.

summary: Soldat's arm gets cold. You are the solution.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Bucky is still in the mindset of Soldat | Medical treatment | IVs & needles | Malnutrition/re-feeding | PTSD | Post!HTP | Brief mentions of past SA and abuse | Past S/H & Scars | Trauma | Roughly translated Russian, might not be accurate

a/n: Yeah so this turned into a lot, I wrote more than I expected to. This is also my first 'fic' of him wooo. I always had this hc that his arm gets cold and it hurts him. The scars being more sensitive to the cold and cause tension around his arm. So I thought something like this would be nice. He deserves it okay ;; wc: 3.6k

At first, it was hard. Harboring a literal assassin from the government was not an easy task, especially with one as unstable and deadly as the fucking Winter Soldier.

How you ended up doing this, you had no idea. Someone like him wasn't easy to just stumble upon, yet here you were. Maybe your heart was too good, but seeing him curled up in that alley a few days ago, shivering and soaked to the bone, a dislocated arm and bloodied from what you assumed was some kind of assault, you couldn't just leave him to the elements.

He had looked so scared, his eyes so full of confusion and apprehension when you initially approached him. He instinctively reached for a weapon at his side - a gun, a knife, anything - but found none, and the panic of a wild, cornered animal spread on his face. He even attempted to stand to fight you, like you bored any sort of threat to him. You just put your hands up in a manner to try to calm him, something as simple as standing caused him pain. He clearly had more injury than what your eyes could see.

You weren't sure how, but you had convinced him you were a safe person and that he could stay in your home. You were just trying to be a good person. He looked so scared, pressed into the wall of the old building and trying his best to look intimidating despite all the injuries that covered him more than the rain soaking his clothes. Ironically, you didn't know just who he was until you had began to delve into the news...a day after you let him into your house. Everything about him being wanted, his crimes, who he was. A sleeper agent, an assassin, the deadliest in the world. And you brought him into your home. Willingly.

Sure, at first you didn't know what to do, the fist of HYDRA sitting in the corner of your spare room, lashing out like feral dog if you came close, or god forbid even stand in the doorway. With how deadly the news made him seem...to you, he didn't appear that way. He just looked hurt and scared. His defensive behavior easily mistook for aggression.

But, none of it scared you away. You didn't care. You might've just been a regular civilian, but you were far from ignorant. You were sneaky, you knew a lot about both parties, SHIELD and HYDRA. You immersed yourself in research, learning as much as you could about HYDRA to get more information about this sleeper soldier.

Despite your efforts, you only scratched the surface.

Honestly, you didn't want to dig too far. You didn't want him to grow suspicious or think you couldn't be trusted for any reason. He already holed himself up like a hermit, it was literally like placing a feral animal inside a home and watching it search around curiously but anxiously, then hide away in a small, dark place for safety. Besides, what HYDRA had on him was disturbing enough.

He was quite aggressive defensive at first too, he didn't want you near him whatsoever. He had a lot of wounds and you knew he'd need to see a doctor, despite the physical ones you saw, you could also tell he was underweight and malnourished a little bit. You weren't a doctor yourself, and you didn't want to attempt to do anything without some kind of advice. Problem was, he was wanted. You couldn't just take him to see a doctor.

"Must things be so complicated with you?" You sighed as you spoke to him while he practically barricaded himself in your closet. You didn't mean anything serious, you were just a little stressed and frustrated, thinking of what you could possibly do to help.

In the midst of your thinking, you remembered you had a close friend who worked in the medical field. They might have done some...questionable things...but that's honestly what you need right now. Someone who wouldn't blabber, and all above and below, you kept some pretty serious secrets for them in the past. You didn't talk anymore, not very often anyway, but they were always down to help you out if needed. It would be much better than trying to drag him to an office where he'd be discovered and you'd have to wrestle him down, which would be a pathetic attempt to restrain him.

Long story short, a quick home visit pursued with stolen medical equipment and a basic check up, it was confirmed he was malnourished like you suspected. He wasn't terribly thin, but you could tell someone his stature shouldn't be so skinny, his ribs protruded too much for your liking. He was also dehydrated along with having an extensive amount of old and new injuries, an untreated dislocation, and some minor infections.

The soldier surprisingly didn't fight that much when he was getting checked out, his blue eyes glued to you the whole time, only averting to watch the 'doctor' as they moved around him. But nothing could be too easy, when the needles came out, he became a bit adamant and aggressive. He spoke in Russian, which you didn't understand. He shouted and sounded angry, backing himself into a corner as he prepared to fight like his life depended on it. His body trembled with adrenaline and he watched the two of you with an unblinking, cold gaze.

You realized it was bad. His treatment prior to you finding him. He acted like a needle was a raging hot blade about to cut his other arm off. Patience and waiting him out proved to be the best way to approach this. He was stubborn and stood his ground for two full hours before he slowly relinquished and he allowed the needle to go in for the IV. With a quick rundown from your comrade, some supplies, and promised confidentiality, they left you both alone.

You also learned how to place an IV, thanks to the instructions left with you and some YouTube videos, since you had to do it every day for two weeks so you could feed nutrients into his body. Everything he ate he just threw up, his body rejected food otherwise. Broths and mashed potatoes were all he could eat. Sometimes his body would tolerate bread and heavier, more filling foods like chicken. He eventually got to eating some veggies like soft carrots and zucchini if properly cooked too.

You still had to feed him carefully. Sometimes his body would still throw it all up and he'd get sick again. It was a grueling process.

You stuck it out and now he could slowly eat again, which was a relief. No IV necessary. He seemed glad about that too.

Besides refeeding, there was an array of issues that came along with being his unofficial caretaker. The Winter Soldier, or Soldat, as he referred to himself as, it was better than asset, was pretty difficult to care for. He was wary of just about everything, you specifically, he didn't know why you were so nice to him. He wondered if you had an underlying motive, his scrambled brain so torn apart tried to connect the dots.

Rewards came with good behavior, rewards being basic human decency and kindness. Good behavior meant pleasing his handlers.

You never wanted to be pleased. You never asked.

Was he supposed to do it anyway?

He watched you as you cooked something in a big pot on the stove. He saw you chopping carrots. He liked those. He liked the broth you made him too, and the potatoes. Good, this was safe food. Another reward? Was he supposed to do something?

You walked over to where he sat, his icy gaze watching you carefully. He was thinking behind them, you could tell, but he barely ever spoke besides simple Russian words that you learned either meant 'yes' or 'no,' or other things like 'please' and 'thank you.' While you set down a glass of water for him, he reached out and grabbed your waistband, leaning forward suddenly. The touch surprised you and made you bristle, your hand snatching his wrist instantly. "Soldat! No, no." you pulled his hand away, it nearly melted off you. Your sharp words startled him, her flinched back a little, his gaze still dull but now held a hint of confusion.

He tilted his head, frowning. "Позвольте мне служить вам." he grunted, his voice rough and raspy like he had swallowed broken glass, so unused, it was the most he had ever spoken to you at once. And you had no idea what he said.

"Don't do that, Soldat." you reasoned, speaking gently, you weren't angry, just a little shocked. The confusion on his face was clear, and fear that flashed in his eyes made you swallow the sudden lump in your throat. Why had he done that? He had never tried to touch you in any way before, in fact he avoided any kind of touch possible. Now he had tried to...you weren't sure. But the cool metal that hooked into your waistband made you shiver.

He leaned back into the couch, looking scolded and anticipating something, he was tense and stiff. You watched him, he said nothing else, his eyes glued to the floor, not daring to tear away from the spot on the carpet to look at you. He seemed scared.

"It's okay," you spoke up after a few silent moments, "You don't need to...do anything." You had a good idea of what he was trying to do, perhaps some sick mindset or conditioning had trained him to serving people before you. You knew HYDRA well enough, it wasn't a long shot to assume. The agents there were barbaric and inhumane.

He ate his food quickly and quietly, refusing to look at you the whole time, then retreated to the guest room like usual. He locked himself away most nights, you were fine with that. He was eating and sleeping, two things he desperately needed.

You sat on the couch watching a show you enjoyed, it was well into the evening by now. The bustling city now quieter and dark, the sun had set hours ago. The door to the guest room slowly opened, your attention drawn there and away from your show. Soldat nearly stumbled over his own two feet, he appeared visibly irritated, in pain somehow. It made you sit up, his expression wearing how he felt as obvious as day. "Hey...what's going on? Are you hurt?" You stood and padded over to him, to your surprise he hadn't backed away.

"Да..." he replied in a groggy, rough voice, the strain dominated the sleep and you felt more worried. For the most part, he looked okay, no obvious injury that you could see. You still tried to look him over just in case there was something he might be hiding, or maybe he hurt himself? He wasn't wearing a shirt, his skin looked fine, all old injuries as far as you could tell. Healing wounds and scars, nothing looked new or irritated.

His metal arm was cradled slightly, so you paid more attention to it. "Your arm hurts?" You asked gently, your eyes scanning it. You weren't entirely sure how his metal arm could hurt, but the tech was advanced so maybe there were some nerves somehow integrated in there. He gave a sharp nod, securing your suspicions.

"Okay...where?" You hoped maybe he'd give you more of an idea, but you doubted it. If he did speak, you didn't know Russian, it would be pointless.

He pointed to his shoulder, where metal met flesh. The nasty scars there were swollen, but that didn't look any different than usual. You observed the area regardless, looking over it for several minutes before you frowned and leaned back. You couldn't see anything that would give away any sort of pain. "How...does it hurt? It looks okay, is it internal?" You questioned slowly, hoping he would tell you, in English...

He shook his head sharply again, jerking side to side. His brows were tightly knit together and a hard breath huffed out of his nose. He reached up with his right hand, his fingers carefully touching the scars. He was so tentative, like the scars were scorching hot, or like he was afraid to touch them at all. "Холодный." His voice came out with underlying discomfort, he had to force himself not to wince.

You frowned. Of course not.

"Uh...-"

"Холодный," he repeated, his tone more firm this time like he thought repeating the word would make you understand. The expression on your face just made him feel frustrated, he grabbed your wrist with his right hand and pulled your hand up to his scarred shoulder. You weren't sure why you flinched or tensed like you expected some sort of pain, but you did.

Under your palm, you felt the stark contrast between the hot, irritated scars and freezing cold titanium.

Cold.

Was that what he was trying to say? That couldn't feel good.

"Is...your arm...hurting because it's cold?" You asked slowly, trying your best to read his face. He nodded once, grunting.

You felt stupid now. Damnit. "I see...okay, let me see what I can do." You pulled your hand off his shoulder, walking over to a small storage closet you had down the hall. Your eyes scanned the shelves until you spotted the heat blanket you had stored in there for the colder months. You grabbed it and walked back over to him, "Here, if you plug this in and drape it over your shoulder, it will keep you warm."

You offered the blanket to him, he stared at it for several seconds before he stepped closer to you, his hand around your wrist and pulling your palm to his shoulder again. You frowned a little and looked at him, "Your shoulder was cold...right? This will help, I promise." You didn't move your hand, you weren't sure what he wanted other than to warm up his arm. "The blanket will be warm."

"Нет." Soldat stared down at you with an empty expression, his eyes had heavy, tired bags under them and showed his clear lack of sleep. You weren't sure what he wanted other than the blanket, since he was refusing to accept it. Instead, he held your hand over his shoulder, sliding it gently down towards the front where his scar was deepest. You could feel his chest rise as he breathed evenly, his eyes almost closing completely.

Did he like how your hand felt?

You remained silent as he gently guided your hand along the length of his scar, where the unforgiving metal pierced his flesh and embedded itself beneath the surface. Your own breath hitched feeling it, the cold, rigid tissue gradually warmed under your delicate touch, responding to the gentle friction of your fingertips. As he continued moving your hand in a soothing motion, you noticed his tense features begin to soften, the lines of worry etched across his face slowly fading away.

The soft intimacy of the moment hung heavy in the air, you found yourself captivated by the subtle changes in his expression, each twitch and relaxation of his muscles didn't go unnoticed. Maybe he was finding comfort in your presence after so long. He had never been this vulnerable with you, and yet here he was, literally grabbing your hand and making you touch his most delicate wound.

"Do you like my hand there...?" The words escaped your lips in a whisper, barely audible. Your eyes, fixed intently on his face, sought to decipher every nuance of his reaction. You watched closely, noting the slight parting of his lips, the flutter of his eyelids, and the almost imperceptible nod that followed your question.

He was so tired, somehow still standing. "Да..."

"Ah...I see. You like my hand there? Does it feel good to rub the scars?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes traced his features, taking in every detail as you gazed up at him. Those dark locks of his hung slightly in his face, creating a disheveled yet alluring frame around his eyes. His hair was messy and tangled, clear evidence of disturbed sleep. The dim light from the tv caught the stray strands, making them stand out against the dark.

He gave a quick nod once more, his body inching closer to you in a subtle yet deliberate shuffle. His eyes, filled with an unmistakable longing, conveyed that he desired something more from you - perhaps your touch, your warmth, or simply your continued presence. "You know," you reasoned gently, your voice soft and caring, "the blanket would help warm up your entire arm, much better than my hand. Plus, it would make you much more comfortable if you decided to rest in bed..."

Even with your logical suggestion, it was clear from his intense gaze and body language that he was far more interested in you than in any blanket or physical comfort you could offer. His focus remained fixed, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him in that moment.

You exhaled deeply, slowly withdrawing your hand from his body. A fleeting expression of panic flickered across his features before quickly fading. His gaze then fixed upon you, tracking your movement as you made your way towards the couch. You reached for the electric blanket's cord, plugging it into the nearby wall outlet. The cord snaked across the floor, a thin line connecting comfort to power. Your hand then moved to pat the cushion beside you, a silent invitation.

Maybe his earlier behavior wasn't rooted in discomfort or mistrust, but rather in a more fundamental human need.

Maybe he craved companionship, but it was hard to tell for sure, he was a stoic stature 99% of the time.

He approached with hesitation, his feet dragging across the floor as if each step required immense effort. His eyes darted around, scrutinizing the spot as though it were an elaborate trap waiting to be sprung. After a solid few minutes of tense silence, he finally lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his movements slow and calculated.

You opened your mouth, ready to suggest he cover himself with the blanket for warmth, but before the words could leave your lips, you found yourself gasping sharply as the heavy soldier unexpectedly collapsed against you.

His full weight pressed down, pinning you to the couch as he sprawled across your body. The shock of his ice-cold metal arm against your skin sent a jolt through your system, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Desperate for warmth, he burrowed his shoulder into your side, seeking out your body heat with an almost primal urgency.

The blanket, forgotten in his sudden move, lay crumpled beneath you both as he clung to you, his form trembling slightly as he absorbed your warmth through the layers of clothing between you. He certainly favored you over it.

"Ah, Soldat...-" You began to speak, but your words were abruptly cut off by a sound that was equal parts growl and whine emanating from him. His head found a comfortable resting place on your chest, and you could feel the gradual warming of his arm as it pressed against your body. He made it abundantly clear that he had no intentions of shifting his position anytime soon. Recognizing the futility of any attempt to move, you resigned yourself to your current predicament, secretly relishing the closeness.

Despite your newfound role as a human pillow, you still managed to reach for the heated blanket nearby. With careful movements, so as not to disturb his apparent comfort, you gently draped the warm fabric over his form. This additional gesture didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He sunk even further into the embrace, clearly content as long as he maintained his position pressed firmly against you. The combination of his body heat and the heated blanket created a cocoon of warmth that threatened to lull you both into a peaceful slumber.

You knew he had settled and probably wouldn't move from this spot, he had gotten too comfortable and he was asleep by now. His heavy eyelids having closed almost instantly after maneuvering into you like a demanding cat. His messy hair smelled like your shampoo, since that was all you had to use for him.

Since it was apparent that he wasn't going to get up from his spot anytime soon, you resigned yourself to sleeping on the couch with him for the rest of the night. His cold shoulder and arm were now buried against you, your body heat gradually warming the metal and soothing the sore scars he had accumulated over time. You let your arm rest gently on his back, a bit cautious at first since you weren’t sure if he was going to react, luckily he didn’t. Your head was supported by the arm of the couch, which was quite comfortable. You were happy and relieved that you had settled on the comfier set when you bought the furniture, it made the situation more bearable.

With the soft sound from the show playing, you let your eyes close and you both slept on the couch. Before sleep overtook your mind, you wondered if this was a one time thing, if he'd return to his usual behavior tomorrow, or if this would become a regular gesture he'd want from you. Had he been silently suffering from this the whole time? He's a little heavy...but he's sleeping and that's good. You're helping him sleep. You're helping his pain. If he began seeing you as a source of comfort, then so be it.

Better that than anything else.

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover images from Pinterest. I do not claim them as my own.

[jaeminify]

synopsis ☆ jaemin tries his very best to make sure you're included in every one of his plans, even if it means travelling for a day and spending most of your evening in the hotel. jaemin, however, makes it up to you and makes sure you know how much he adores you.

inspired by the live mark and jaemin had. thank you leo boys <3 not much plot and there might be some details that don't add up, but it's just porn without a plot. suggestive at most! jaemin is a bit of an exhibitionist... horny af too

"Yeah. Yeah, no I know... No, I didn't say that."

Jaemin is on the phone when you slide in the key to your shared hotel room and he isn't alone. To his left he has his close friend, Mark Lee, a mutual friend of yours through Jeno Lee, who was your close friend and a sibling to Lee Donghyuck.

You were sure the two of them had just finished up discussing plans regarding the new business they were planning to open the following month and had taken up quite the time of your evening (that was meant to be shared with you). Mark seems to get the idea. He doesn't have to be told twice to know when to get out of a couple's room, simply because his girlfriend had been the one to remind him to leave the second they were done talking about business.

Well, Jiyeon wasn't exactly Mark's girlfriend anymore. As of last week she had been upgraded to fiance with an engagement ring that blinded anyone that glanced at it. You helped Mark pick it out because you were her best friend, you were happy to see the happy could thriving.

Mark sends you a small wave when you slip on the room slippers and walk into the living room.

Jaemin never travelled anywhere without booking the best of places for you. Had he travelled alone he would get a room facing the building opposite, but with you, he called the hotel owner personally to make sure he had the view of the city. He was ready to book the penthouse suite but settled with the honeymoon suite when you caught him looking at the website. You weren't sure what he was booking them for— you assumed it was an early anniversary gift for his parents, so you chimed in and pointed out the view from the honeymoon suite was just as beautiful as the penthouse, so Jaemin didn't think twice when he confirmed his reservation.

You were surprised that he wanted you with him during his conference, but you were relieved when he told you that you didn't need to attend any major events.

You enjoyed being Jaemin's plus one, and you knew that Jaemin loved being yours. It made any events you attended a lot more enjoyable, but if your presence wasn't necessary, or if a plus one wasn't really required, both you and Jaemin knew when to take a step back to let the other shine.

Jaemin owned multiple businesses that his father passed down to him whereas you held multiple shares and owned three different buildings that your mother was considerate enough to give willingly, considering she refused to let your elder sister chip in when she wanted the buildings you, now, owned.

"Did you guys just finish up?" You whisper softly to not interrupt Jaemin's call. Your boyfriend had his back to you and Mark, standing out at the balcony while trying to keep his voice levelled.

Mark nodded, "Barely. He's on the phone with Jung now," Mark made a face. "I think he's still trying to convince Jaemin to endorse his company."

You scoff at the information Mark tells you, "Jaehyun had his chance six months ago to come up with a plan but he fell flat on his ass when he stole the copies from Suh & Co." You shake your head, "The nerve he has."

"You're telling me," Mark runs a hand over his face. "I think Jaemin and I can continue this tomorrow with the law firm. It's getting late and I don't want to take up your time too."

"Thanks, Mark." You smile at Jaemin's friend and give him a polite hug, wishing him goodnight as you shut the door behind you after Mark leaves.

"...That's not going to happen." You catch bits of Jaemin's words as he speaks to Jaehyun on the phone, trying to not get irritated on behalf of your boyfriend at the pile of stress Jaehyun's adding.

You decide to comfort Jaemin with a small hug, if you could even call it that. You simply hook your arms onto his shoulders the kiss the back of his neck. As you slide your hands down from his shoulder you feel rather than see, that he has his shirt unbuttoned. You move to step away from Jaemin but your boyfriend is swift when he catches your hands with his free one and laces his fingers with yours.

He turns around so he's facing you then pulls you in closer to wrap an arm around you. While eh talks to the person on the phone, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead as if to say hello, i'm glad you're back.

That was the beauty of being with Jaemin. Even if he was busy, even if he was caught up in something he would never let you go unnoticed. Or rather, he'd never make you feel as though you had to beg for his time or for any effort, because he did it as if it was as easy as breathing. Adoring you, loving you and cherishing you was something Jaemin mastered in.

You cling onto Jaemin, wrapping your arms around his middle and looking up at him with your beautiful doe eyes that makes Jaemin smile even if his words are ugly as he speaks to Jaehyun. He holds his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he uses both hands to cup your cheek.

"You're so beautiful," He mouths to you as his thumb grazes your cheek.

Before you can even respond, Jaemin's right hand is quick to grab his phone then you hear, "Listen, Jung, I could stand here all night and pretend that I'm thinking about giving you another shot, but I'm not. So, thank you for trying. I hope Donghyuck is a lot more understanding than I am."

Jaemin hangs up and places his phone on the table behind you on the balcony. There's a lovely breakfast table for you both to sit on, but it was nearing midnight and all you could see was concrete jungles of buildings and the sound of heavy traffic increasing as the night was young.

You smile when Jaemin wraps you in a hug and nuzzles his face against your skin.

"Missed you so much baby," He whispered, when he pulls away, his hands slide to your waist. "Where'd you go?"

You stretched your arms and grinned, happy to share all the details of your night with your lover.

"I managed to get the last slot for a good massage then hopped into the sauna before coming back to the room."

"God, a massage sounds so good right now."

"You're not getting it from me," You laugh when Jaemin pokes your sides, you can feel the grin on his face.

"I'm thinking about something else that's a lot better than massages, baby."

"It hasn't been that long since the last time we had sex, Jaemin." You whisper against his lips, knowing that the harder you try to resist Jaemin's advances, the easier it'll be for him to make you crack.

You feel your knees weaken when his hands start to caress your lower back, teasing touches that feel so light you aren't sure are even there, but the rough pads of his fingertips that slide under your skirt is enough to confirm that his touch, is very real. Jaemin isn't the type to rush in to anything he does. He's witty and tactful. He acts when he knows there'll be a reaction, and with you, he knows every little thing that makes you tick, moan, and scream.

"Hasn't it?" Jaemin's breath is hot against your lips as he teases you. Leaning in with his head tilted as though he was ready to engulf your lips with his, before pulling away to trace your cheekbone with the bridge of his nose. "You're just so irresistible, doll."

Jaemin's hands are now completely under your skirt, lifting it up to expose your laced underwear, not caring if the two of you were standing on the balcony with opposite buildings standing parallel to the hotel. He didn't care who saw you two. All that was in his mind was your pretty face and the way your skin felt against his.

"Did Mark leave?"

You nod breathlessly, subconsciously gripping the front of his shirt to pull him closer when you feel him knead your skin. Jaemin pouts, confusing you for a second until a flush of arousal returns at his next words.

"Shame," He tutted, "Could've let him watched how good of a girl you are for me."

You almost moan at his words, nearly collapsing to your knees to suck his aching cock. You feel it throbbing against your thigh. Jaemin was just as turned on as you were but did his best to now show it.

"But," He starts again, "I don't like the thought of sharing you with anyone, pretty girl." Jaemin smiles, you aren't sure what he's thinking but he seems satisfied. "You're mine, right? Aren't you angel?"

"Yours. . ." you breathe out, clinging onto his skin now, latching your lips to his neck as you desperately beg for more. Jaemin hums in satisfaction when he feels you suck his neck. He loves to mark you up but it feels more fulfilling when he wakes up to the scratches you left on his muscled back, and the marks you leave on his neck. "Only yours."

"That's fucking right." He growls, leaving a hand on your waist while the other reaches up to cup your jaw, leading you up to his lips.

He pulls away without any warning but slips his hand into yours to let you know he isn't going anywhere far. He knows how needy you get, especially when you're riled up, the last thing he'd want is to upset his baby or make you think he was going to leave you high and dry. You can't think straight so you watch Jaemin with heavy eyes, admiring the way his physique looks under his dress shirt.

You hear him slide the door leading back into your room shut, before another click. He's locked you both outside.

Before you can say anything, Jaemin sits himself on the chair by the breakfast table and guides you to straddle his lap. There's a slight wind that brushes against you two, but Jaemin doesn't seem to care when he cups your face to let you rest your forehead against his.

"I'm gonna fuck you on this table until we're both satisfied, that sound okay, angel?"

If you weren't riled up before, you definitely were now. Jaemin smiles at your eager nod, enjoying the way your hands work your way to unbutton his shirt while he plays with your tits over your shirt. It's his, but he likes you in his clothes. His cock rises even more at the thought of him getting to fuck you in his clothes.

"That's a good girl," He cooed when you slip his shirt off his shoulders, revealing his buff shoulders and toned body. He'd been working out recently, mostly to keep his mind occupied from work, but it's paying off because you get to ogle him and he likes being the centre of your attention.

Jaemin flexes his pecks and rests his hands on your hips to guide them. He feels you start to grind your pussy onto his cock over his jeans and he bites back a moan. "Naughty baby, so eager to have my cock inside you aren't you?"

He kisses your cheeks, nose and eyes then neck.

"Taste so good, I'm gonna be taking my time with you doll."

And he does. The whole, damn, night.

[lukesvangelista]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐄'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍ᵃᶠ¹⁹

in which adam’s deepest regret is loving you too deeply.

warnings; argument between a couple, angry adam, allusion to the events that happened about a month ago

Adam Fantilli had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. The two of you had met in New Hampshire, when Adam had decided to follow Luca to boarding school to play hockey. The two of you had hit it off immediately, meeting in history class his first year there. Within a few months, Adam had asked you to be his girlfriend.

Over sophomore year, he had decide to take some advanced classes, graduating a year early before heading off to Chicago with Luca. You stayed behind in New Hampshire, finishing out your junior and senior year at the academy. Adam ended up playing with the Steel for two seasons, and despite the distance, the two of you remained strong. You'd come visit him over long weekends and holiday breaks, even visiting his family in Nobleton a few times.

Everything was perfect, and continued to be when he signed at Michigan.

You didn't follow him to Michigan, choosing to go to college in Chicago after falling in love with the city. And as much as it sucked, the two of you were used to the distance by then, so it didn't affect much. FaceTimes and phone calls were constant, and some of the boys would even tease Adam about how whipped he was. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn't deny it.

He finished the year out at Michigan, declaring for the NHL draft after just one season. You were extremely proud of him - winning the Hobey Baker award as a freshman was no easy feat and he deserved nothing more than to play in the NHL. When he was drafted to Columbus, he finally asked you to follow and move in with him.

So you did. As much as you loved Chicago, you would drop everything for him. Instead of transferring, you talked to your advisor and decided to go virtual for the remainder of your time at college. And as you settled into Adam's apartment in Columbus, everything was perfect.

But now, the apartment was suffocating with tension, the air thick with words unspoken and emotions bubbling too close to the surface. You stood near the kitchen counter, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to shield yourself from the storm that was building between you and Adam. You'd been through a lot together - much more than most couples your age - but tonight, things felt different. It wasn't about the little things you guys usually bantered about, like leaving clothes on the floor or who was supposed to take out the trash. Tonight's argument ran deeper.

You knew he was having a hard time with the start of the season, especially with what had transpired over the past few weeks. The air inside and outside of the locker room was different, and not in a good way. It was understandably taking its toll on Adam. You tried to be there for him, you really did. But he had shut you out, the distance between the two of you increasing even though you were standing right there in front of him. You guys weren't 15 hours away from each other anymore. Hell, you weren't even four hours away from each other anymore. But right now, it sure felt like you were.

"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" Adam muttered, his back turned to you as he stared out of the window, watching the rain patter against the glass.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, "I make things difficult?" you echoed, your voice a little higher than you intended, "You're the one who's been avoiding me for days! I just want to know what's going on with you, Adam. Why won't you talk to me?"

Adam turned around, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion, "Because I'm tired, Y/N! I'm tired of always being the one holding everything together. I can't do this all the time!"

Your heart sank at his words, "You think I don't feel the same way? You think it's easy for me?" your voice cracked, and you bit your lip to keep the tears from falling. "I get it, Adam, I do. You're under a lot of pressure with hockey, and I know you're grieving. But that doesn't mean you get to shut me out! All I want is to help you."

His jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides, "I'm not shutting you out."

"Yes, you are!" you snapped back. "You haven't said more than ten words to me all week unless it's about something trivial!"

"Maybe I don't have the energy to talk about the heavy stuff right now!" Adam's voice rose, echoing through the apartment. His eyes, usually soft when they looked at you, were now filled with a fire that matched your own. "Maybe I just need some space without you always breathing down my neck, waiting for me to fall apart.

You felt like you had been slapped. The weight of his words hit you square in the chest, making it hard to breathe, "So that's what you think of me? That I'm just... waiting for you to mess up?"

Adam groaned, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration, "That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?" your voice was softer now, trembling slightly. You were tired of this, tired of the fight, tired of feeling like the two of you were on the verge of breaking.

Adam looked at you, his expression torn between anger and regret. His chest heaved as he tried to find the right words, but in the heat of the moment, he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish I loved you less!"

The words hung in the air like a weight neither of you could lift. Time seemed to stop, and the silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, your heart shattering into a million pieces as his words echoed in your mind on repeat.

"You... what?" your voice was barely a whisper, but the hurt in it was unmistakable.

Adam's eyes widened, as if he hadn't fully realized what he's said until it was too late, "Y/N/N, I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me," you whispered, your voice dripping with pain as you shook your head, taking a step back from him. "No. Don't you dare. You don't get to take that back."

He tried to reach for you, but you pulled away from him, "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean, Adam?" your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. "Because it sure sounded like you meant every word."

Adam's heart sank as he watched you crumble in front of him. He wished he could take it back, but the damage was done. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your crying, "I'm so sorry."

You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your sweater, but the tears wouldn't stop. "Do you even hear yourself? You just said that you wish you didn't love me as much as you do. What am I supposed to do with that?"

He stepped closer, desperation lacing his voice. "I didn't mean it that way. I just... God, Y/N, I love you so much it hurts sometimes! And when things get hard like this... I don't know how to handle it. I feel like I'm failing you."

Your breath hitched at his words, but you still couldn't look at him. "You don't have to be perfect all the time, Adam. I don't need you to have all the answers. I just need you to be honest with me."

He nodded, his heart aching as he reached out and gently touched your arm. You winced, pulling away slowly. The hurt in his eyes mirrored your own, and he continued, "I am being honest. That's the problem. Loving you is everything to me, but it scares me too. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. That's why I said what I said. I wish it didn't feel so... all-consuming."

You finally looked at him, your eyes red and filled with pain. "You don't get to say you wished you loved me less, Adam. If this is too much for you, then maybe-"

"No," Adam interrupted, panic flashing in his eyes, "Don't say that. Please. I don't want that."

You sighed, shaking your head at his words. "I don't want that either, Adam. That's the last thing I want. But I can't be here right now."

His face twisted in heartbreak, but he let you continue. "I'm going to call Odette and see if I can stay with her and Zach for a bit. Call me when you figure it out."

With that, you left to go to your guys' shared bedroom. Adam whispered your name over and over again in protest, but you ignored him. As much as you wanted to turn around and hug him, you couldn't be around him with that he just said.

You slipped into the shared bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you, your back resting against the cool wood as you took a shaky breath. The silence in the room felt suffocating, and stark contrast to the muffled sounds of Adam moving around in the living room. Everything between the two of you felt frayed, like a thread pulled too tightly, on the verge of snapping. You can’t bear to look at the room you’ve shared for so long — every inch of it filled with memories, good ones, but also the ones that now haunted you.

Your hands trembled as you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your contacts, hovering over Odette's name. You hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on your chest. Should you really leave? Could you even explain what happened to someone else when you barely understood it yourself?

But you needed space - space to think, to breath, to not have Adam's face constantly reminding you of everything you guys were struggling through. So, with a deep, unsteady breath, you tapped Odette's name and listened as the phone rang.

"Hey!" Odette's cheerful voice came through the line after a few rings. The brightness in her tone felt like a stark contrast to the dark cloud hanging over you.

For a second, you almost lost your nerve. How could you drag someone else into this mess? But you forced yourself to speak, your voice barely more than a whisper, "Hey, Odette. I, um... I need to ask you something."

Immediately, her tone shifted. "What's going on?" her voice was gentle now, concerned. "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I... I was wondering if I could stay with you and Zach for a few days. Just until I figure things out."

There's a pause, a heavy silence that filled the space between the two of you, and you worried for a moment that you've overstepped, that you asked for too much. But Odette finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Of course you can, love. But what's going on? Why do you need to leave?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, a tear slipping down your cheek as you wrapped your arms around yourself, curling in on the bed like you could hold yourself together. "It's Adam," you admitted, your voice breaking. "We had this fight... I don't even know how it started, but it just kept spiraling. It feels like everything's been spiraling, and I just... I can't stay here right now. I need space, and I don't know how to get it when he's here, constantly reminding me of what's wrong between us."

Odette's sigh was audible through the phone, and when she spoke again, her voice was laced with empathy, "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. I know how much you care about him."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sob that was clawing at your throat. "It's so hard, Odette. It feels like I'm drowning, and I don't even know how to make it stop. I love him so much, it hurts. But I don't know who I am when we're constantly fighting."

"You don't have to explain it all right now," Odette assured you, "Just pack a bag and come over. You're welcome here for as long as you need. I'll be here, and we can talk whenever you're ready, okay?"

You nodded, even though Odette couldn't see you, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaking, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do this alone, Y/N," Odette said softly. "We'll figure it out together, okay? Zach and I will be here. Just come over whenever you're ready."

The call ended, and you stared at the phone in your hand, the silence in the room feeling even heavier now. Your eyes drifted to the framed photo on the nightstand - you and Adam, arms wrapped around each other, smiling like you didn't have a care in the world. It felt like a lifetime ago, like you were different people back then. Maybe you were.

With a shaky breath, you rose from the bed and started packing a bag, each item a reminder of the life you're stepping away from, even if just for a little while. Every drawer you opened, every glance at the room you shared, made your heart ache. But you couldn't stay. Not like this.

As you zipped up the bag, you paused for a moment, glancing toward the door. You know Adam is just outside, probably sitting on the couch as he pretended that everything was fine, that the two of you hadn't been drifting apart for weeks. Part of you wanted to go to him, to tell him everything you're feeling, to fix it. But the other part - the part that'd been breaking under the weight of the unresolved tension, the part that Adam said he wishes he loved less, knew that you needed to leave. You needed to find yourself again before you lost everything, including your own sense of who you were.

With one last glance at the room, you grabbed your bag and quietly opened the door, slipping out before the weight of it all pulled you back in. "I'm going, Adam. Call me when you're ready to have a civil conversation."

Adam just stared at you as you left. There seemed to be no reconciling what he had said.

He sat on the couch, his leg bouncing restlessly as the reality of what just happened hit him. He could still hear the hurt in your voice echoing in his head. He'd said things he didn't mean, and the look in your eyes before you walked away... that's something he would never forget.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the knot of panic tightening in his chest. His first instinct was to call Luca, but as he thought more about it, he realized he couldn't do that. Luca was too much like him - impulsive, emotional. He'd tell his younger brother to stand his ground, but Adam knew that this wasn't the time for that. He needed someone who'd be calmer, more rational. Someone who could actually help.

There was only one person he could think of.

Without overthinking it, Adam scrolled through his contacts and tapped on Kent's name. It was late, and for a moment, he wondered if he should even be calling him right now. But the phone rang, and Kent picked up, his voice groggy on the other end.

"Adam? What's up, man? You okay?"

Adam swallowed hard, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He felt like the air in the room was pressing in on him. "I screwed up, Kent. Big time."

Kent was quiet for a second, but Adam could almost hear him sitting up, fully awake now. "What happened?"

Adam took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut like it might make the guilt a little easier to bear. "Y/N and I had this fight. I don't even know how it started, but it just... got worse and worse, and I... god, I said some things I shouldn't have. And now she's talking about leaving. Like, actually packing a bag and going."

He expected Kent to immediately start calming him down, to say something reassuring, but instead, there's just silence on the other end of the line. The longer Kent said nothing, the worse it made him feel.

"You're telling me she's leaving?" Kent finally said, his voice more serious than Adam was used to hearing. "Like, leaving for good?"

"I don't know," Adam admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "She called Odette to stay with her and Zach for a few days. I didn't mean for it to get this bad, Kent. I didn't think it would ever come to this."

"Well, what'd you say during the fight that could've made her leave?"

Adam paused, not wanting to repeat the words that caused so much damage.

"I said that I wish I loved her less."

Kent exhaled sharply, and when he spoke again, Adam could hear the disappointment and anger laced in his tone, "What made you think that that was ever okay? Adam, man, you fucked up. Big time."

Adam's heart dropped into his stomach, and he leaned against the couch, letting KJ's words hit him full force. He expected it, but hearing it out loud still stung.

"I know," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "But what do I do now? I don't want to lose her."

Kent paused again, clearly thinking through his words carefully before speaking. "If she's walking out like this, and understandably so, may I add, you can't just sit there. You need to do something. Sooner rather than later."

Adam's throat tightened as the weight of Kent's words settled in. He knew that Kent was right. Y/N was not just upset. She was on the edge of something bigger, something that could end everything between them. And if he didn't act now, he might lose her good.

"But what if..." Adam trailed off, staring blankly at the floor, his voice barely audible. "What if it's already too late?"

Kent's voice softened, but it was still firm. "It's not too late if you don't let it be. You've got a window, but it's closing fast, dude. You need to talk to her - really talk to her. No more fights, no more letting things spiral, no more saying stupid fucking shit. If you love her as much as you truly do, you have to prove it, Adam. Right now."

Adam nodded, though he knew Kent couldn't see him. He knew what he had to do, but the thought of facing you right now, of admitting how badly he'd messed up, terrified him. The hurt in your eyes was burned into his memory, and the guilt felt like it was choking him. But if KJ's right—and he knew he was—then waiting isn’t an option.

“Thanks, Kent,” Adam said, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ll fix this. I have to.”

“Yeah, you do,” Kent replied, his voice softening again. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? You can’t afford to.”

With that, Adam hung up. His heart raced as he stood up, his feet feeling heavier than they've ever felt as he walked toward the bedroom door. His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a split second, he wonders if he should give you more time. But Kent's voice echoed in his head - "you can't afford to wait."

His heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn't bring himself to walk inside your room. The weight of your fight, of everything he'd said in the heat of the moment, felt like it was too much to face right now. You had gone to Odette's anyway, and he knew that you needed time.

With a heavy sigh, Adam pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, the blank text message to you glaring up at him. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to say. He wanted to fix it, but he'd never been great with words when it came to you. Maybe giving you the night, letting you breathe, was the only thing he could do right now.

i'm sorry. i know you need space, and i'm giving it to you. i don't want to make this worse. but when you're ready, i'm here. i'm ready to talk in the morning. i need to fix this. i love you.

He stared at the message, reading it over a dozen times, wondering if it was enough. He didn't want to sound desperate, but he also didn't want you to think he’s not willing to fight for you. With a shaky breath, he hit send.

As the message went through, Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair. The silence was deafening, and the absence of your presence was suffocating. He couldn't help but wonder if this is what it would feel like if you left for good.

All he could do now was wait for the morning, for you to text him back, for the two of you to finally talk civilly and try to fix the cracks that had been growing between you. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but the thought of losing you was more painful than any fight he'd ever had.

To his surprise, you texted back almost immediately.

i'll meet you at the apartment tomorrow night. don't screw this up, fantilli.

The next day, Adam waited impatiently for you to come back home. He knew you weren't going to be happy to see him, as Kent had repeatedly reminded him at morning practice. He could tell he fucked up badly when Zach glared at him through almost the entire practice, too.

But now, Adam's back was against the window as rain pattered against the glass, his eyes staring firmly at the door, waiting for you to walk through. It was as if you read his mind. Not even a minute later, you walked through the door, hair messy and dressed in a Blue Jackets hoodie.

He smiled softly at you, but you didn't return it. Instead, you took a seat at the kitchen counter, your eyes focusing on him as he slowly made his way over to sit down next to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I am so fucking sorry for everything," he started immediately, emotion lacing his voice, "I don't want to break up. I don't want you to go."

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't want to go either, but the truth of the matter was that he had hurt you. His words had cut through you like a knife, stabbing you right in the heart. It felt like five years had been flushed down the drain.

"Then what do you want? Because I can't keep doing this if you're going to push me away every time things get tough."

Adam took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he finally let down the walls he’d been holding up for so long. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, Y/N. I just… I’m scared. I don’t know how to balance everything.”

Your face softened slightly, though the hurt was still there. “Then let me help you. We’ve been together for so long, Adam. Don’t shut me out now.”

He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. You resisted at first, but eventually melted into his embrace, your face buried in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Adam whispered again, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry.”

You nodded against him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “I’m scared too, you know,” you admitted quietly. “But I’m here, Adam. I’m not going anywhere. But you cannot do this again. I deserve to be treated better than that."

Adam nodded profusely, "It won't happen again, I promise. Kent drilled that into my head all of last night and today. I fucked up, and I realize that. I love you so, so, so much, Y/N. More than you will ever know."

You nodded, and he rubbed his hand along your back, trying to make sure you were really there in front of him.

"I love you too, Adamo."

For a while, the two of you just stood there, holding onto each other as the rain continued to fall outside. The fight wasn’t over - you still had plenty of things that needed to be talked about - but for now, you were okay. You had each other, and in the end, that was what mattered most.

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Shanks with a Female Marine S/O (Imagine)

Author's Note: I made a post mentioning this idea and it got a lot of attention. Hopefully it'll be talked about more down the road.

Links: {Masterlist}

When it comes to a marine reader, I can't picture them as this shy, weak little thing. I like to imagine reader as a well respected vice admiral, known for their heroism and determination.

I can see you meeting Shanks when he was a rookie. Just entered the grand line and is starting to get attention, but he isn't quite as big as he is now. You weren't new to the marines by the time you met Shanks, probably a captain, and it actually took a little bit for Shanks to truly see your potential.

You met him in some random bar him and his crew were drinking at. You were given orders to keep an eye on him, since the marines wanted to know just how much of a threat he was at the time. You decided fo go undercover while keeping a few lower ranked marines you were in charge of outside to keep post.

Shanks, being the flirt and charmer he is, immediately started conversation with you the moment you sat down next to him. You couldn't deny the fact he was friendly, offering to pay for your drink and even making you laugh a couple times, but you never once allowed yourself to be blinded by his antics. He was a pirate, and a possibility dangerous at best, you couldn't let yourself be blinded by his good looks and charm.

Despite Shanks being drunk when he first met you, he could see right through your duguise. The look in your eyes told him everything he need to know. However, he continued to act as if he was oblivious to that fact.

However, despite your better judgement, you ended up falling for his charm. The two of you ended up sleeping together in one of the island's many inns. You can't deny that he was probably the best fuck you've ever had, but the moral turmoil he threw in did not make it worth it.

You knew he was going to be trouble later down the road, and in all honesty, you wanted to see just how far he'd go, especially since the two of you were so close in age.

Not only did he leave an impression on you, but you left an impression on him. After meeting you, he was talking about you to Beckman.

"A beauty that woman was, Benn. A real beauty, a fierce one too," Shanks said as he poured him and Beckman a glass of whatever alcohol they stole from the island.

"You say that about every woman you've been with," Beckman said as he picked up the glass, blowing out a puff of smoke as he looked out into the ocean. "But you think she'd different, don't you?"

"She’s gonna be a fun one, Benn."

"What makes you so sure?"

"She’s a marine! A captain no less."

Beckman sent Shanks a glare as he drank his glass. "And you still slept with her? Captain, we're still rookies, I wouldn't be taking a thing like this as a game."

"She ain't going to do anything yet."

"...How'd you even know she was a marine?"

"The look in her eyes, and the fact that marines were scattered all over the island," Shanks replied confidently before chugging down the bottle. "I want to see where she ends up."

The two of you wouldn't interact again until a few years later. You've risen in ranks and have now became a Vice Admiral, and Shanks is now considered a major threat to the government.

Both of ships had crossed paths while at sea, and you decided to see if you stood a chance. You didn't have a devil fruit, but you were starting to master haki during this point in time.

"Long time no see, Shanks," You said as the two of you stood in front of each other. "I see you've made it big."

"I can say the same to you," Shanks responded, a smirk on his face as he checked you out. "Damn, still as beautiful as the day I met you."

"And you're charming as ever. Let's see what you got, don't go easy on me."

"Oh don't worry baby," Shanks reassured as he pulled out his sword, "I won't. "

Its safe to say that Shanks won that fight, but that wasn't the last time you guys would meet.

After that the two of you would constantly cross paths, and Shanks would never fail to make you blush. Constantly throwing flirtations your way as the two of you fought.

"You sure you don't want to join me?" Shanks asked, dodging your punch.

"Yes I'm sure, I don't think I wanna be couped up with smelling pirated all day, especially you."

"Well, this smelly pirate was the best dick you've ever had," Shanks teased, laughing as your face became one of embarrement.

The tension between you two was thick. And you wanted to beat him more than anyone. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, but anytime you'd get close, he'd knock you down faster than you could blink.

"What is this, 51-0?" Shanks asked as he pinned you down on the floor, the tip of his sword grazing your neck as he looked down at you.

"Shut up."

"Come on Baby, you're better than that."

The way Shanks asked you out was oddly romantic for a playboy like him. He has caught you while your ship was stationed at one of the islands in the Grand Line. You were in the woods, admiring the night sky as you came up with possible ways for your crew to get stronger. While you were thinking, you heard footsteps approaching.

When you turned around your gun was already out, and standing in front of you was Shanks, holding a bouquet of you favorite flowers. You were immediately caught off guard, just what the hell was going on.

"Shanks? What are you doing here?" You asked, lowering your gun slowly but still keeping your guard up.

"Hey, I'm not here to fight," Shanks declared. "Y/N, we've known each other for years, and the longer I've known you the more you've won over my heart. Everytime we part I keep finding myself longing for your return, waiting for our paths to cross again, even if it's for a fight I'll know I'll win."

The last sentence was a purpose jab at you, which helped in lifting up both his and your nervousness.

"I realize now that you're what I want," Shanks said as he handed you the bouquet of flowers.

"Shanks," You whispered, taking the bouquet as you tried to concele your excitement.

"Will you be my girlfriend/boyfriend?"

For the first time, Shanks saw you break your strong, cold marine persona. Before he could react you were hugging him, kissing his face more times than he can count.

"YES YES YES! FINALLY, I'VE BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR THIS!"

The two of your guys relationship is kept secret from the government, nobody outside of Shanks' crew knows about your little relationship.

Whenever you're on the battle field the two of you act far more cold towards each other than before, just to keep appearances. But, after the fights, the two of you are cutest couple to the point it's sickening, and everytime the two of you guys meet, you always end up in Shanks' Cabin.

I'd say Shanks with a Marine/Vice Admiral S/O is by far the cutest thing ever. Two strong people who constantly fight each other secretly dating, how scandalous.

Oh, and don't get me started on what your marriage would be like. That's when word gets out.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 84

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

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Friday, July 1st; 8:30 AM – Ona and Lucy's apartment.

I hum while cooking my pancakes in the pan. It's early, but I couldn't sleep anymore. Instead of waking Lucy, who was peacefully sleeping, I decided to make myself useful. So, here I am, in front of the stove. After several mornings of Lucy teaching me how to make pancakes, I finally decided to try it on my own. It was the perfect time while everyone else was still asleep. At least I knew no one would disturb me or offer their help, thinking I wouldn’t succeed. For once, I wanted to do it all by myself. This solitary moment is deeply relaxing for me. I feel good, with only the sounds of cooking and the TV in the background. The music coming from it puts me in a good mood. I sing along, swaying my body to the rhythm. When my pancake is ready, I remove it and start on the next one. That's when two arms gently wrap around me.

"What a lovely sight this early in the morning," I hear Lucy whisper in my ear.

I smile and stop moving my hips to feel her press against my back.

"Good morning," I murmur.

"So, how dare you leave me alone in bed?"

She takes advantage of my hair being tied up in a messy bun to plant a kiss on my exposed neck. A shiver runs through me, but it's a delightful way to start the day.

"And you have the nerve to complain? You don't think twice about leaving me alone when you go for your runs."

She laughs, tightening her grip around me. My stomach flutters in response. Yeah, I could definitely get used to this kind of morning.

"You're right. Forgive me for putting you through that."

"I’m adapting. You’ve got to make some sacrifices if I want to enjoy my girlfriend’s athletic body."

Lucy laughs again and kisses my cheek. Then she steps aside to lean against the counter with her arms crossed.

"True."

"So, where’s my kiss?"

She smiles and leans in to meet my lips. I close my eyes to savor our first kiss of the day. These tender moments between us mean a lot. They're spontaneous, which makes our relationship even more special. I sincerely hope they will continue and help our love last.

"Are you satisfied now, princess?"

"More than ever."

"You make me so happy. But why didn’t you wake me?"

"You were sleeping so deeply. I didn’t want to disturb you, especially since you so rarely sleep in. Besides, I wanted to use the time to make breakfast by myself."

"I see. It smells delicious."

"Thanks."

I blush softly. She runs her hand along the back of my neck as she straightens up, glancing at my plate full of pancakes, ready to be eaten.

"I suppose I can’t have a taste yet?"

"No," I giggle. "We’re all waiting for my mom and Joan to wake up."

She pouts, but I stand firm.

"Alright, but you should at least cover them," she says as I add another pancake to the pile. "They’ll get cold by then."

"Can you do it for me, please?"

"Hmm."

Her hand slides down my back before her touch fades away. She covers the plate and starts setting the table. She knows I’m not in my usual state. In an hour and a half, I’ll finally find out the result of my exam. I’m grateful that she’s not pressing me about it. I finish the last pancakes, and just in time for my mom and Joan to make their appearance. Lucy has also finished her tasks. She’s prepared freshly squeezed orange juice and is getting the hot drinks ready.

"Good morning, girls."

"Hey. Did you sleep well?" I ask them.

"As well as ever. I could get used to this place, especially if we’re treated this nicely every day."

"Uh… I like you, but no thanks."

"Ona!" Lucy scolds me.

My mom chuckles. Even though things have mostly been patched up, if I leave home, it won’t be so she can stay here.

"No, Lucy, she's right. The two of us under one roof, it’d be fireworks."

"Maybe, but that’s no excuse."

"It’s fine, I’m just joking."

I stick my tongue out as I place the plate on the table, where everyone is already seated.

"Well, this is quite a feast."

"Ona made it," Lucy points out.

"Really?"

I nod, visibly embarrassed. Lucy, sitting next to me, places her hand on my thigh as I take my seat.

"You're barely showing any signs of stress," she teases me.

"I knew something was off—I hadn't heard a single jab from you yet."

"Oh, don’t take it like that, honey."

My mom chuckles as she serves us, while Joan makes it clear he's hungry. They’ve been here for almost a week, and it seems like they've settled in. Their return to Barcelona later this afternoon is going to feel strange to them. One thing's for sure, I’m glad my mom finally got to see my life here. I'm not the rebellious kid I was when I left Barcelona. She can see I’m building my life successfully. She loves our apartment and, of course, has fully embraced Lucy into our family since our commitment to each other. She’s kept the promise she made at her wedding, and I don’t think that will change anytime soon. At least, I hope not. Lucy has helped me understand the importance of family, and even though I no longer have my father, I still have my mom.

"I can finally have a taste!" my girlfriend rejoices when her plate is served.

I’m nervous about her reaction. In fact, I haven’t even told her that I didn’t taste them myself. They look good, but we all know appearances can be deceiving. Lucy, however, seems completely unbothered. She’s totally calm as she takes the first bite. The tension rises in me as she chews slowly. Everyone waits for her reaction, which doesn’t take long. A hum escapes her soft lips.

"Hmm... not bad at all, my love."

"Really?" I ask, surprised. "You’re not just saying that to be nice?"

She laughs, shaking her head. I relax as she takes another bite. I’m happy to know it's at least edible.

"No, really, it's good. You didn’t even try it beforehand?"

"No," I admit, embarrassed. "I was scared of the result."

"Well, go ahead, taste it."

She cuts a piece and holds the fork out to me. I accept it without hesitation. My mom and sister have also started eating. I take my time to savor all the flavors of the dish, and I have to admit it turned out pretty well. For a first try, I did really well. They’re not as good as Lucy's yet, but I managed to make something. Just a few days ago, I was redoing the batter three times over, so I guess I’ve improved.

"It’s not bad at all, actually."

"I never imagined I'd eat one of your dishes one day," my mom confirms.

"Well, thanks!" I giggle.

"Oh no, it's a compliment. I never took the time to learn how to cook. That’s why I have Samuel at home."

I laugh, nodding. Indeed, I remember her as a walking disaster in the kitchen. Since she worked a lot, it was rare for her to cook for me, and yet, I vividly remember her burnt meals when she did. I was always relieved when my dad or grandmother stepped in to save the day. And if neither of them was around, I knew Nick's mom, our neighbor, would gladly serve me food discreetly after my mom’s meal. I focus on Joan, who also seems to be enjoying the food. He confirms this by asking for seconds twice before being refused a third helping.

"What time do we need to be at school?"

"The results are posted at ten," Lucy responds. "So, a bit earlier would be good."

"What about Mapi and Ingrid? Are they meeting us here?"

"Yes, that’s the plan," I confirm. "Have you heard from them?" I ask Lucy.

"They just left their place. They should be here soon."

"Okay," I reply with a shared smile.

Mapi came back with us a week ago. It feels really strange having her so close now, but I’m not complaining. For now, she seems to be enjoying her life here. We’re all on vacation, so we see each other regularly. Ingrid and she are helping out at the gym, where we’ll all start working next week. Jenni finished her contract at her previous job and will be wrapping up the major renovations. This summer is going to be intense as we try to finish everything before the start of September. There are six of us helping now, including the rest of our friends. I have no doubt we’ll get it done.

"Go get ready. We’ll take care of cleaning up."

"Are you sure?" Lucy asks.

After several months, she’s finally comfortable enough to use informal speech with my mom, although you can still tell she’s not entirely at ease with it.

"Of course. Your friends are arriving soon, and we’re already ready. We don’t want to be late."

"Alright."

I wasn’t going to argue since she was offering her help. Lucy shoots me a look, but I just take her hand, ignoring it.

"See you later."

I lead her with me to our room, which is still a bit of a mess. My mom had brought over a few more things I had packed up at their place before I left. Since we’ve been out with them all week, I haven’t had time to sort it all out.

"We could’ve helped first."

"Stop complaining. We’ve been serving them all week. They can clean the kitchen for once."

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything else. I start changing into the clothes I’d laid out the night before. Lucy smiles when she sees my school jacket.

"Already missing it?"

"Hey, I’ve always said I liked it," I defend myself.

"That’s true. It does suit you."

She winks, and I laugh. Once we’re both changed and have made the bed, we head to the bathroom to do our makeup. When we return to the living room, Mapi and Ingrid have arrived. We heard the doorbell ring earlier, but didn’t pay much attention since my mom and Joan were already in the living room.

"Good morning!" I greet them as we walk in.

"Ah, there you are. You look less stressed than what we were just told," Mapi teases.

"That’s because she cooked for the first time on her own this morning," Lucy announces from behind me.

"Hey!"

"Yeah, she’s not quite herself today," my best friend jokes.

I’m about to respond, but Lucy gets there first, turning me around and kissing me.

"We’re just teasing, love. It’s okay."

"Hmm..."

"Anyway, it’s time to go."

"Yeah..."

"Let’s head down," Ingrid says.

Lucy nods. They head out since they’re already ready. I sit on the couch to put on my shoes. Lucy, having slipped on hers quickly, crouches down in front of me.

"Everything’s going to be fine, okay?"

"What are we going to do if I didn’t pass?"

I feel a knot in my stomach just thinking about it. Lucy smiles, lifting my hand to her lips to kiss it.

"Well, you’ll repeat the year, and we’ll push back your art school plans to the following year. Grace said she’d wait for you, though she’d be a bit disappointed."

I nod, looking down. She strokes my cheek.

"Come on, babe. We don’t know anything yet. What matters most is that you gave it your best."

I smile softly and nod again. I then lift my head to meet her loving gaze.

"I was just wondering how you wanted to handle things once we’re there. Do you still want to introduce me to your friends tonight?"

I take a deep breath and shrug. I’m not sure, really. Lucy has officially left her job as an instructor, so I know we could go together. I had thought it would be more intimate to do it with just a small group. The other students don’t need to know about our relationship.

"I guess," I mumble.

She chuckles and stands up, kissing my forehead.

"I’ll probably meet up with my colleagues who will likely be there. I suggest we go separately at first, and we’ll figure it out if needed?"

This idea lightens my heavy heart. To be honest, I was mostly worried about keeping it together if I passed my exam.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Alright. Then I’ll ride with Ingrid. You can take my car if you want."

"You’re letting me drive?" I ask, surprised.

"Well, yeah. You’ve been driving it these past few days."

My smile widens as I take her keys. It’s true she’s given me the opportunity to drive her car. Lucy wants me to get used to driving again before we buy a car for me next year. It’s been great practice. Plus, it’s little gestures like this that boost my confidence. I’m starting to become independent, and it feels good.

"Thank you."

We kiss one last time before leaving the apartment. We stick to our plan and each drive separately. In front of us, Ingrid leads the way, though I know the route well by now, having done it many times with Lucy. She only lives a few blocks away. As we get closer, it’s clear today is a special day. There are so many cars parked outside. The street has never been this full. I take my time parking the car, just like Lucy taught me, in the first available spot. Then we step out. From a distance, I can see Lucy and Ingrid walking toward the entrance of the building.

"They’re not waiting for us?" Mapi asks.

"No. They’re going to see their colleagues first, and we’ll catch up with them later."

"I see."

She gives me a look that clearly shows she’s teasing me.

"What?"

"You know you won’t be able to hold it together, right?"

"Shut up."

She laughs heartily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Come on, I’ll escort you then."

I smile and nod. That works for me. With my free hand, I grab Joan’s, and we head toward the entrance. Unlike the first time I came here, the gate is wide open, although there are people there to greet us. In fact, it’s Wiegman herself, along with several professors I didn’t have.

"Abby! What a surprise to see you here!" she says as we approach.

"Well, I couldn’t miss my daughter’s results, could I?"

They exchange a friendly hug before she shakes all of our hands.

"Is this your youngest?" she asks, noticing Joan.

My brother immediately hides behind me, making me smile.

"Yes, this is Joan."

"He’s grown so much!"

"Oh, yes."

"Let’s hope we don’t see him here."

"We’ll make sure of that."

"And how’s Marcus doing?"

Not wanting to get caught in a long conversation, I quickly say:

"We’re going to head off without you, if you don’t mind. My friends are probably waiting for me."

"Oh, sure, no problem," my mom replies. "We’ll meet up later. Are you taking Joan with you?"

I glance at my brother, who nods eagerly. I chuckle and nod as well.

"Yeah, I’ll take him. He can stay with Mapi."

After agreeing, we continue. The anxiety rises as we walk down the path.

"Come on, relax."

"I’d like to see you in my shoes. If I don’t pass this exam, I don’t know what I’ll do."

"Lucy said it’s not the end of the world."

"No, it’s not, but it would push back a lot of plans between us."

"I’m sure you’ll pass."

That’s not even the question. I *have* to pass. It’s crucial. As we reach the end of the path, we finally arrive at the central building. It’s packed. We can’t even see the entrance. Luckily, it’s a beautiful day. There’s a light breeze, but it’s not bothersome.

"Wow. This place is huge. So this is where you spent your year?"

"Yeah," I reply with a small smile. "You haven’t seen anything yet. I’ll check with Lucy if we can take a tour later."

"That’d be cool! Is that where you did those famous laps?" she asks, pointing to our left.

I chuckle, nodding.

"Yeah, I know those pretty well, if you want to know."

"I bet you do," she teases.

- Over there, those are the classroom buildings, I said, pointing them out to her.

- And next to the fields?

- The gym. That, I said, pointing to the building in front of us, is the administration building. And the two buildings you see on the right are the dormitories.

- Wow. Which one was yours?

- The one in front. We were on the first floor. There's also the cafeteria behind it, but according to what Lucy told me, there will be a snack bar there soon. You'll get to see it.

She nodded with a smile. I could tell she was excited to be here. I understood her. After everything I'd told her, I'd have been in the same state. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. I did the same, but mostly to find my friends. There were so many people. I was surprised to see how many had come with someone. Lucy was probably right. It's an experience that marks the students, and they're proud to show where they were. That's how I felt with Mapi. My eyes eventually landed on Alexia, who was waving wildly until she reached us.

- You’re finally here. I saw Lucy and Ingrid arrive without you, and I was starting to wonder.

- Ona doesn't want to be seen with her just yet.

- For how long? Alexia giggled.

I rolled my eyes as they laughed together. Those two were getting along just a little too well.

- Where are they anyway?

- What, you want to join them already? Mapi teased.

- No. Just testing the waters. So?

Alexia smiled and nodded her head toward something behind me. I turned around to see Lucy with her former colleagues, and even Jenni was there.

- She ended up coming with you?

- Thankfully. She wasn’t too thrilled, but I didn’t give her a choice.

- Poor girl, Mapi teased.

I laughed softly and nodded. I got it, but I also understood Alexia perfectly. I felt the same way. I turned back to them, but this time I saw Lucy looking right at us. The others around her were deep in conversation, but she was fully focused on me. We exchanged a smile. I would’ve given anything to be by her side, but it wasn’t time yet.

- The others are over there if you want to join, Alexia said, grabbing my attention again.

- Yeah, good idea, I replied. I’m happy to finally see everyone again.

- They’re excited to see you too. Honestly, we were just waiting for you.

- Well, here we are.

We followed Alexia as she led us to the others. I ended up carrying Joan since he got shy around my friends. I couldn’t blame him. It was a lot of people, after all. It was the first time I’d been surrounded by so many people, but I wasn’t complaining. I liked my friends, and I planned to keep them close now that I was staying here.

- Ah! We were wondering if you’d come over, Alba greeted us.

- As if I’d ignore you, I chuckled. Hi, everyone.

- Well, you never know. You didn’t want to be friends with us at first, so we were wondering if you’d still talk to us now that classes are over, they teased.

- Fair point, but times have changed.

- That’s true.

I took the time to greet everyone individually. Mapi did the same, following behind me. She might have only met them once before, but she was so at ease with everyone.

- How did you accept your sister’s girlfriend? I teased.

- You knew? She seemed surprised.

- Like She wouldn’t? Alexia responded.

- Wait, so you know her?

- Well, yeah, I chuckled.

- Whatever, that’s not what’s important, Patri interrupted.

- Oh really?

I tilted my head as she nodded.

- We heard this is Bronze' last year. Since you were always with her, maybe you know something?

- Where did you hear that? I asked, frowning.

It was true, of course, but I was supposed to be the only one who knew. As far as I knew, I hadn’t told anyone. Did someone overhear us, or worse, see us together? Well, at this point, I guess it didn’t matter much anymore. Lucy wasn’t my supervisor anymore. She was just my fiancée now.

- Well, people came up to us thinking you were already here, Claudia continued. They saw her packing up on the last day, so now there are rumors.

- Oh, um...

I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, just then, a commotion started around us. Everyone rushed toward the notice board where the exam results were being posted.

- Oh! They’re putting up the results! Alba announced.

- Finally, her sister replied.

It had been a while since I’d felt this anxious. I felt sick to my stomach. Even back in high school, I hadn’t felt this way. Most of my friends rushed over to get a front-row view. Only Mapi, Alexia, and Leah and Alessia stayed with me.

- I feel sick, I confessed.

Leah burst out laughing.

- Come on, princess. It’s all done now anyway.

She was right, but I couldn’t help it.

- Well, I’m going, Alexia announced.

She led the way, and everyone followed. I turned to Mapi, who was happily playing with Joan, who I put down.

- Go ahead. We’ll wait here for you.

I smiled softly and followed the others at a slow pace. People were already reacting—some were exploding with joy, while others were crying. I didn’t know where to look, feeling completely lost. My eyes scanned the crowd, and I realized I was unconsciously searching for Lucy until our eyes locked. I relaxed instantly when I saw her walking toward me with a reassuring smile.

- Don’t be scared. I’ll go with you, she said as she reached my side.

- Thanks.

I bit my lip and let her guide me with her hand resting on my lower back. We walked together to my section, where I saw Alessia, Leah, and even Lotte screaming with joy. I figured everyone had passed. I would feel so awful if I was the only one who didn’t. We made our way to the front of the list as most people had already seen their results, making it easier to approach. I grabbed Lucy’s hand, squeezing it as hard as I could as I scanned the list for my name. I could feel my heart pounding, and finally, I spotted my name. I shifted my eyes slightly to the right, and as soon as I saw the result, I started to cry.

- I can’t believe it... I whispered.

- So? Lucy asked beside me.

- I... I passed! Oh my God, Lucy, I did it!

I literally jumped on Lucy, who wasn’t expecting it at all. She laughed as she caught me as best she could. Without thinking and not giving her time to react, I kissed her passionately. At first, she was so taken aback that she didn’t kiss me back. I almost regretted it, but she eventually responded, wrapping her arms around me. I hugged her back, burying my face in her neck.

- Oh my God. I can’t believe it. It’s all thanks to you!

- I wasn’t the one taking the tests.

- No, but without you, I wouldn’t have come this far, I said, pulling back to look at her. Thanks to you, I can now chase my dream and get into art school. And also, we can finally start our life together. I never imagined ending the school year like this.

Lucy smiled and kissed me again. I was sure everyone was watching, but I didn’t care. I was so happy that all that mattered was the two of us. It had always been like that from the beginning. Lucy took my hand and led me out of the crowd. Everyone was staring at us. At first, I felt a little self-conscious, which made Lucy laugh.

- I would’ve preferred to spare you this, but now we’ve got to own it.

- The last thing I’d ever be ashamed of is you, my love.

She turned with a smirk. I stopped in step and eagerly accepted her next kiss. She knew those words meant everything coming from me. A few months ago, I couldn’t even fully accept myself. When we finally made it out of the crowd, we rejoined Mapi and my sister, who had found Ingrid and Jenni. I left my girlfriend to jump into my best friend’s arms.

- "Guess who got their diploma, guys?!"

- "Yeah! Now that's some great news!" she exclaims.

I laugh with relief in her arms. All the pressure has finally eased away, making room for joy. I still can't believe it.

- "You really surprised everyone. People haven't stopped staring at us," Ingrid giggles.

Indeed, the stares don't stop. Not just from students, but even the staff. No one knew, but Lucy doesn’t seem bothered. She just shrugs.

- "As far as I know, we’re in the clear. I’m no longer part of this school."

I nod and savor a final hug from Mapi, which she surprises me with. She whispers in my ear:

- "I’m so happy for you, darling. You really deserve this."

- "Thank you," I whisper back.

Before I can fully part from Mapi, Alexia jumps on me next. I see our friends following, but for now, I’m waiting for her reaction.

- "We all made it!" she shouts. "We're going to have a blast tonight!"

She keeps screaming with joy as she runs over to Jenni, who struggles to catch her. And she, too, doesn’t hold back, kissing her girlfriend in front of everyone. After all, school’s over now, and nothing else matters. I also turn back to Lucy and kiss her again.

- "About time you two made it official," Leah teases. "Now we can finally get to know the commander for real."

- "You knew?" Alba says, surprised.

- "Come on, Alba, it was so obvious, »Misa tell her . "They were practically eating each other up with their eyes every chance they got."

I chuckle at her shocked expression while still clinging to Lucy’s neck. I exchange a knowing smile with Misa. I kind of suspected she had figured it out. In the end, not many people hadn’t. From what I can see, it’s only Alba and Patri who didn’t see it coming.

- "Maybe we weren’t as discreet as we thought," Lucy comments, noticing the same thing I did.

Everyone laughs because, honestly, I think by the end, we really weren’t. Still, when I went to see her in her office, it was genuinely to study. I worked my butt off, and it looks like all my effort paid off.

- "So, she’s the girlfriend you’ve had these past months?" Alba asks, still in shock.

- "Indeed. I said I’d come with someone tonight to introduce you all, but… well, I couldn’t hold back."

- "We called it! Mapi and I saw this coming ages ago," Alexia teases.

- "You’re dating Bronze. I can’t believe it. That’s insane!"

- "I’m not your instructor anymore. You can call me Lucy after all, we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other."

- "Oh my God..."

I burst into laughter at her reaction.

- "What’s with all of you dating instructors?"

- "Hey, they’re pretty sexy," Mapi chimes in.

- "Wait, you too?" Patri exclaims, seeing my best friend hanging on Ingrid.

- "Yep. But I was never part of this school," she giggles.

I smile as Lucy kisses my forehead. I’ve finally introduced her. It was about time. She doesn’t seem as nervous as she thought she’d be. I imagine the situation feels strange for her, but thanks to Jenni and Ingrid, she’s surrounded by her friends.

- "What about the rumor going around?" Claudia asks. "Is it true you won’t be here next year?"

- "Yes, it’s true."

- "Really?" Leah says, surprised. "Did Wiegman find out?"

- "Yes, but that’s not why I’m leaving. I’m opening a gym with Jenni. And by the way, thank you, Alba, for your help. It was invaluable."

Poor Alba doesn’t know what to say. She’s just come to terms with Jenni and her sister, so I imagine it’ll take her some time to accept Bronze and me as well. But I have to admit, they’ve done a great job with Jenni. The kitchen was installed in the break room, but they’ve made the most progress in the locker rooms. They’ve revamped everything, installing new tiles, new shower cabins, and changing areas.

- "You’re opening it with Jenni?"

- "Yes," she replies with amusement. "So, if you really plan to lend a hand this summer, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me."

She’d been pestering Jenni to help, but from the look on her face, I sense he might change her mind soon. I can understand her reaction. Lucy is known to be intimidating here. At first, it won’t be easy for her to be accepted as my girlfriend. Or maybe... She finally smiles.

- "Well, at least I know my sister was in good hands all along... I guess I owe you a lot, too."

Lucy chuckles softly.

- "No, you’ve got it wrong. I hated your sister for a long time because of Jenni’s dismissal. It’s my relationship with Ona that made us friends, since they’re so close. But I can assure you Jenni takes great care of her. You have nothing to worry about."

She nods appreciatively, then looks at all six of us. I think she’s realized her sister is in good company now. She finally looks at me with a small smile.

- "You really don’t do things halfway when it comes to making changes. Making the commander bend, seriously."

I laugh, shrugging.

- "We both bent to each other. What can I say?" I reply, snuggling into my girlfriend. "I’m just glad you’re all okay with it."

- "Of course, princess. But now it’s time to let us into your little bubble."

- "No problem with that," Lucy responds. "We’ll start with tonight’s party."

They nod eagerly. In the end, everything turned out great. I’m so happy. Well, they don’t know yet that they’re now tied to Lucy for life after our engagement, but that’s a story for another time. They don’t need to know just yet. Lucy and I haven’t even picked a wedding date. Ideally, it would be next year, but with all the current projects, it might get pushed back. Neither of us wants to rush into it. What mattered was the commitment we made to each other. We wanted to make it official because we know we complete each other, and there’s no question of looking elsewhere. For now, the most important thing is to enjoy this moment together. We still need to pick up our transcripts, then grab a drink in the cafeteria to celebrate. After that, it’s time to unwind at tonight’s party at Leah house, but more importantly, to celebrate the beginning of our new life—life after Camp Wiegman. It’s clear everyone’s excited about it. I know I am. I can’t wait to live out my dreams alongside the love of my life. 

[sevenboarproductions]

[IDOLiSH7] [Part 6] Chapter 13: Towards the Promised Hour

6.13.1. - Those days passed by

Takanashi Tsumugi: And thus the day of “Black or White Live Showdown” has come. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: Good morning, everyone.

Nanase Riku: Good morning, manager.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Morning!

Rokuya Nagi: Good morning! It’s finally the long-awaited morning, isn’t it? 

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes! Today, it will finally be time for “Black or White Live Showdown”. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Yeah.

Izumi Mitsuki: That’s true.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Ever since I learnt about “New Black or White” until now…

Takanashi Tsumugi: There was no time when I didn’t think about this day.

Takanashi Tsumugi: I was wondering if everyone else actually felt like that, too. How is it for you? 

Ousaka Sougo: That’s true… For me, it was especially about the new song. In the back of my mind, I was always thinking about it.

Izumi Mitsuki: Aah, I get that. Even while going about my life, I’d be like, “Aah, that idea just now might be nice”. 

Izumi Mitsuki: I was thinking “I might be able to use that in the live” a lot.

Nanase Riku: I was imagining it before I went to sleep, too! In my head, I’ve done this year’s Black or White about seven times already! 

Rokuya Nagi: Me, too! We won and everyone congratulated us!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Me, too, me, too! Sometimes, the setlist changes too. 

Izumi Iori: Please don’t change it for no reason.

Nikaidou Yamato: You’re worried because the time where you can’t change it anymore has come. Like “Is this setlist fine…?” 

Ousaka Sougo: I get that. I changed up the order in my head and did some trial and error… 

Izumi Iori: It’s a perfect setlist. It’ll be fine.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Riku-san, Tamaki-san, please try to recall the stage the two of you imagined. 

Nanase Riku: Uhm…

Yotsuba Tamaki: Like this?

Takanashi Tsumugi: Tonight, IDOLiSH7 will be on a stage that’s even more wonderful than that one.

Nanase Riku: Manager…

Takanashi Tsumugi: That special stage performance that everyone took their time to create… 

Takanashi Tsumugi: I’m sure it will be a live that reaches the fans’ hearts! 

Takanashi Tsumugi: To everyone who’s been attending our lives with so much love and enthusiasm… 

Takanashi Tsumugi: I am so grateful! 

Takanashi Tsumugi: The real event is today, but the days leading up to it were a very precious time to me, like an irreplaceable treasure. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: I learned a lot from being able to create a live from scratch together with everyone. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: More than anything, it was really fun and I’m so happy we were able to do this! 

Rokuya Nagi: OH… Me, too. I am very, very happy. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Me, too. Coming up with everything from the theme of the live to the setlist together was fun. 

Nikaidou Yamato: It might be an exaggeration since the competition hasn’t been decided yet, but I have the feeling that we are creating the culmination of who we are. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yamato-san… 

Nikaidou Yamato: I remember how we got started. 

Nikaidou Yamato: When I heard it was gonna be an audition, I was planning to walk out that door.

Izumi Mitsuki: That’s right… You tried to leave as if you were just letting us pass. 

Nikaidou Yamato: I didn’t want to become an idol… But it’s different now. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Thanks for stopping me, manager.

Nikaidou Yamato: I should be thanking you, but… 

Nikaidou Yamato: Tonight, I’ll make these guys win. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: …Yamato-san…

Nanase Riku＆Yotsuba Tamaki: Waaah…！

Rokuya Nagi: Oh my god… 

Ousaka Sougo: Wow, Yamato-san’s cool…! 

Nikaidou Yamato: Now, now, don’t get too excited.

Izumi Mitsuki: This old man finally said it.

Izumi Iori: Seems like he is finally realizing his role as the leader.

Nikaidou Yamato: Please be a bit nicer, Izumi brothers. Well then, getting back to the point… 

Nikaidou Yamato: I’ll show you how the idols you, as our manager, named IDOLiSH7 become the number one in Japan. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Thank you for putting all your effort into planning and preparing for the live despite being so busy. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Once we go on stage, it’s our job. Leave it to onii-san. 

Takanashi Tsumugi: …Yes…!

Takanashi Tsumugi: From the bottom of my heart, I am proud to celebrate this day together with everyone! 

Nanase Riku: Manager! Give us your support until the end!

Nanase Riku: The one who first told us to do our best was our manager, right? 

Nanase Riku: Please cheer us on like you did back then! 

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yes… I will!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Iori-san!

Izumi Iori: Yes.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Yamato-san!

Nikaidou Yamato: Yeah.

Takanashi Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san!

Izumi Mitsuki: Yeah!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Tamaki-san!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yo!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Sougo-san!

Ousaka Sougo: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Nagi-san!

Rokuya Nagi: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Nanase-san!

Nanase Riku: Yeah!

Takanashi Tsumugi: I love IDOLiSH7 more than anything in the world! Please do your best…!

IDOLiSH7: Yeah…!!

–

Woman: Waa… So many people…! Aah…. So that’s what it feels like at a live?… 

Woman: This is not the time to be impressed! I wonder if I can still get live goods…

Woman: Ah, that person might be a fan of Riku-kun. And that one seems to be a ŹOOḼ fan! 

Woman: Everyone is smiling… Everyone looks really happy! …I’m getting excited as well!

Woman: I decided on it on a whim, but I’m glad I applied for tickets and got to come here… 

Passerby A: I’m glad I could come today~! I’m looking forward to it so much I could die!

Passerby B: I’ve kinda been too nervous to sleep for a week! 

Passerby A: Ahaha! For a week!

Woman: Fufu… Everyone’s saying the same thing. I’m kind of relieved.

Woman: We like the same things and we’re looking forward to the same thing; it’s like everyone here is friends. 

Woman: Alright! Let’s have lots of fun! I hope everyone else does, too…!  

Woman: So that everyone here moves toward the most happy new year!  

--

Mage Takara: Haa… I couldn’t sleep…

Mage Takara: Thinking that TRIGGER is going to sing the song I wrote today… 

Mage Takara: Oh my god… I said it… Even though it’s top secret information…! I gotta stop breathing!! 

Mage Takara: …Waah… I almost died…. Kujou Tenn… 

Mage Takara: Yaotome Gaku… Tsunashi Ryuunosuke… Okay, I calmed down… 

Mage Takara: When I’m nervous, saying TRIGGER’s names is the best… Oh my god… I might die…

Older Sister: Oh my god, I might die… Do you think ŹOOḼ will win today!? Torao-kun is so cool! 

Girl: Are you okay, onee-chan!? The one who will win is IDOLiSH7! I’m glad I get to see Riku-kun…! 

Mage Takara: …Those sisters are amazing… They’re able to hold a conversation on the edge of that line… 

Nervous Man: I feel kind of bad… Even though you invited me… 

Sunohara Ruri: You’re fine, you’re fine! Please support your future brother-in-law! I want to introduce you later. 

Nervous Man: W-we can do it another time. Since it’ll be right after a big job. 

Sunohara Ruri: But Yuki-san wanted to meet you as well.

Nervous Man: I’m a stranger to Yuki-san, so why…

Sunohara Ruri: I’m looking forward to Re:vale-san’s live! I hope they can stay Japan’s number one! 

--

Mage Takara: …They have matching rings… I’m a fan of Re:vale as a couple… 

Mage Takara: It would’ve been nice if I could’ve brought my girlfriend. I don’t have one, though. 

Mage Takara: Ah… a beautiful blonde IDOLiSH7 fan. Maybe a RabbiTuber… 

Thorvald: ＜Well then, Prince Seto. Until I enter the venue, I will continue to provide live coverage.＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜Yeah. I’ll leave it to you.＞

Thorvald: ＜This is the venue where today’s “New Black or White” will be held. There’s a takoyaki shop over there.＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜Oh. Is there a any connection between lives and takoyaki?＞

Thorvald: ＜There isn’t- This is the live t-shirt. Later on, I’ll show you how it looks when it’s worn.＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜This is a beautiful design. I appreciate it.＞

Thorvald: ＜Thank you very much. On behalf of the merchandise production team, I would like to express my gratitude.＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜Yes.＞

Thorvald: ＜This an item used to cheer people on. It lights up when you bend it, but I will not do that yet. ＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜I know that one. It’s because the light slowly starts to fade, right?＞

Thorvald: ＜That is correct. By the way, Prince Nagi’s color is yellow.＞

Seto Ranvalt von Northmeir: ＜I know that, too. For his next birthday, I’m planning to give him a yellow sports car.＞

Thorvald: ＜That’s wonderful. I’m sure His Highness Nagi will be very pleased as well. The next thing I’d like to introduce to you is an uchiwa fan…＞

Mage Takara: He’s showcasing the live goods… What a way to spread word about IDOLiSH7 to the world! 

Passerby C: Aah, my heart’s pounding! Since I have a great seat today, maybe ŹOOḼ will notice me!? 

Passerby D: They’ll notice you for sure! I mean, you talked to them before, right?

Passerby C: Yeah! I even gave them a letter directly…! 

Mage Takara: …Directly!? That’s amazing. But to take it properly from them, ŹOOḼ must be surprisingly serious… 

Mage Takara: Ah… I wonder if the tough-looking old men over there are idol fans, too…? 

Passerby E: But it’s surprising~! Didn’t expect big bro Kuma to be interested in idols! 

Passerby F: Yeah! My oshi is the reason why I rediscovered myself as an illustrator! 

Mage Takara: Ah, an illustrator, huh? You shouldn’t judge people by their appearance. 

Mage Takara: A lot of people are here. Ah, oh my god, my heart is pounding… My song will be sung in front of everyone… 

Mage Takara: What do I do… If Kujou Tenn suddenly said that he will dedicate this song to Magechon… 

Mage Takara: …No, I offered it. Calm down, come to your senses… Aah, I can’t stop imagining stuff like that… 

Mage Takara: Start quickly!

Mage Takara: No! Don’t start yet!

Mage Takara: Even though it feels like the best right now, even better things are still coming up…! 

Mage Takara: It’s the last day of December, but it’s not cold at all! 

Mage Takara:  “New Black or White” is the best…!! 

~ to be continued ~ 

--

6.13.2. - To that place we longed for

Isumi Haruka: Haa…

Isumi Haruka: Finally, it’s time for “New Black or White”... 

Inumaru Touma: Don’t be nervous, don’t be nervous!

Natsume Minami: You’re the one who’s too tense, Inumaru-san, your shoulders are too stiff. 

Midou Torao: Even Minami is blinking a lot. 

Isumi Haruka: And Torao is looking at the clock too much.

Utsugi Shirou: It’ll be fine. Everyone, please relax. 

Isumi Haruka: What will be fine?

Midou Torao: How can you know that?

Inumaru Touma: Relax…

Natsume Minami: I would if it was that easy. 

Utsugi Shirou: It is difficult, isn’t it… First, let’s go with a smile. Try smiling, please. 3, 2, 1… 

ŹOOḼ: …Haha…

Utsugi Shirou: …That’s fine! Okay, this is the waiting room.

Isumi Haruka: Wah… look at all those flowers! 

Natsume Minami: There’s enough to fill the room…! 

Inumaru Touma: We also received some from the “BLAST” team and music programs, but most of the flowers in this dressing room are…

Midou Torao: They’re from Moonlight Ichirou… 

Inumaru Touma & Natsume Minami & Isumi Haruka: …

Isumi Haruka: …Ahaha! Ryou-san, you’re overdoing it! 

Natsume Minami: All the flowers look expensive. It seems like a thing Ryou-san would do. 

Inumaru Touma: Ahaha! That sure is a surprise, but they’re pretty. What’s up with this Moonlight guy… 

Inumaru Touma: …A lot of things happened, but if that guy hadn’t been there, we wouldn’t be here right now.

Inumaru Touma: I hope he’s watching us from somewhere tonight. 

Isumi Haruka: I’m sure he’s watching. He’s calling our names. 

Natsume Minami: That’s true… Let’s deliver our victory all the long way to that person. 

Natsume Minami: We had enough defeats. We won’t lose again. 

Midou Torao: Yeah. …That’s true. Should we at least take a photo and send it to Ryou-san? Utsugi-san, will you do it? 

Utsugi Shirou: Of course. Everyone, please gather around here. 

Isumi Haruka: Got it. How do we do it? Do we glare at the camera?

Inumaru Touma: No, it’s not a work shoot, isn’t it fine if we smile? 

Midou Torao: That’s true. Since we only might be smiling for now… 

Natsume Minami: Please stop. With the negative talk, I mean. We will be smiling in the new year, too. 

Midou Torao: Surely. There’s no way I’d lose, after all. 

Isumi Haruka: We will win for sure! Yay!

Inumaru Touma: Oh, that’s nice! Ryou-san, we will win! 

Utsugi Shirou: Let’s go, one, two… 

(click)

Utsugi Shirou: I think I got a good shot. 

Natsume Minami: Thank you very much.

Utsugi Shirou: Even though he couldn’t come here, Ryou-kun did a good job. He made everyone smile. 

Isumi Haruka: Haha… That’s right. 

Isumi Haruka: When we stand on stage, we have to make the fans waiting in the audience seats smile, too. 

Isumi Haruka: We will give ourselves our own applause and flower bouquets. We’ll swallow both wins and losses alone. I am prepared for that. But…

Isumi Haruka: When we stand on stage, I want to see dazzling smiles and cheers. 

Inumaru Touma: Haha… You’ve changed. The old Haru never cared about the fans…

Isumi Haruka: I wanted to be acknowledged by Kujou. I wanted him to praise me, I wanted to be told I was amazing.

Isumi Haruka: After my affection for him ran out, I was singing to stick it to Kujou Tenn. But since both of those things are gone now... 

Isumi Haruka: The ones in front of me as I sang were our fans.

Isumi Haruka: Even though I don’t like it all, and I don’t care. Obsessively calling my name…

Isumi Haruka: You’d fall in love with that, right? Saying thank you, thank you, you’d want to reward that, right?

Inumaru Touma: …That’s true… 

Inumaru Touma: I was happy that they smiled in front of me… That’s why, when they turned their backs, I was anxious and sad, and I couldn’t do it. 

Inumaru Touma: I was scared of being abandoned. But… That is a small matter. 

Inumaru Touma: It’s not about me being thrown away. Rather, I won’t abandon anyone. Not you guys, not the fans, not this dream. 

Inumaru Touma: I will love everyone who loved me, even if it was just for a moment. Even if it’s unrequited love, I won’t throw it away. 

Natsume Minami: Easy for you to say, ‘unrequited love’. Aren’t you the one who made us feel that, Inumaru-san? 

Inumaru Touma: Uhm, when?

Natsume Minami: Are you saying you don’t know?

Utsugi Shirou: Can he be that dense…

Midou Torao: See, that’s the kind of guy you are. Even though you didn’t notice, there might have been people who had feelings for you. 

Midou Torao: Even when NO_MAD ended, there may have been fans who would continue to always think of you. 

Midou Torao: Maybe even now.

Inumaru Touma: That’s crazy… That’s almost an eternity already. Even if I lost my form, they still love me. 

Natsume Minami: Even if we lose our form, the feelings remain forever. As long as this unforgettable scenery remains in our hearts, we will not lose anything. 

Natsume Minami: Sakura-san was who I admired. Even when I couldn’t meet him, even when were far apart, I thought about him and admired him. 

Natsume Minami: And if that’s the case, isn’t it the same now? Even if he was in North Meir, even if he’s in heaven… 

Natsume Minami: A slightly wicked old man I admire, I support, and don’t see very often. 

Natsume Minami: It’s because I was able to meet Sakura-san, that I am here tonight. 

Natsume Minami: Hey, I… This year, I want the Black or White trophy. 

Midou Torao: I’ll listen to your request. We’ll take it away and make it ŹOOḼ’s. 

Inumaru Touma: That’s right! This time, it’s our turn to win! 

Isumi Haruka: We’ll win for sure! That’s what we came this far for! Let’s do this! 

Midou Torao & Inumaru Touma＆ Natsume Minami: Yeah!

Utsugi Shirou: You can definitely win. Here’s one last thing before the big showdown: let’s do image training.

Isumi Haruka: Image training? 

Utsugi Shirou: Yes.

Utsugi Shirou: ŹOOḼ, congratulations for winning today’s “Black or White Showdown”!

Inumaru Touma: Image training for winning!? Even though we just arrived at the venue!?

Utsugi Shirou: Although it’s presumptuous, I’ll lead with three cheers for you. ŹOOḼ, hurray! 

Midou Torao: We’re doing this to the point of the cheer!? 

Natsume Minami: If someone hears us from outside, won’t people think it's a provocation!? 

Utsugi Shirou: Of course it’s a provocation. Let’s go to the point of no return.

Utsugi Shirou: Because it was our company that was at fault, over the past year, I was busy bowing my head to the other agencies to apologize. 

Utsugi Shirou: I think it’s natural, I feel how big of a responsibility that is. However…

Utsugi Shirou: On the last day of the year, with your victory, please let me feel some relief.

ŹOOḼ: …

ŹOOḼ: Hurray!

Utsugi Shirou: Hurray!

Everyone: ŹOOĻ, hurray!

Okazaki Rintarou: They’re doing three cheers for ŹOOḼ… They’re really provoking us, huh? 

Yuki: We won’t lose to something like provocation, though? Should we do something, too, Momo? 

Momo: …

Okazaki Rintarou: What’s wrong? Are you scared, maybe? 

Okazaki Rinto: Hey, president…! Momo-kun can be quite delicate to the point of losing his voice, okay!

Okazaki Rintarou: That’s not it! He won’t provoke them! I just thought it was rare. 

Yuki: Momo, are you okay?

Momo: I’m okay…

Momo: I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay. I’m okay, I’m okay. Invincible, invincible, invincible, invincible, invincible.

Yuki: …Are you really okay?

Momo: Yeah. No, aah… Ha—... 

Momo: This is bad, I’m so nervous. What should I do? Aah, I shouldn’t think that. I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t… 

Yuki: It’s not bad. I’m here. I’ll make you relax. 

Momo: How… how will you?

Yuki: An old story.

Yuki: Actually, there was a time I thought about quitting music and no longer going on stage.

Momo: …That’s about Ban-san, isn’t it?

Yuki: Wrong. It’s like… When things didn’t go well… 

Yuki: I was anxious and wondering if my music is really reaching anyone.

Momo: Something like that happened to Yuki… 

Yuki: But during that time, I received a certain letter and got back on my feet. 

Momo: A certain letter? What kind of letter…? 

Yuki: That’s right… 

Yuki: It’s embarrassing, so I won’t tell after all… 

Momo: Eeeeeh!? Now that I’ve heard this much, I wanna know…!! What is that certain letter!?

Yuki: Next time.

Momo: Haaaa!? I feel jealous when I hear such a special story, though!?

Okazaki Rinto: Ah, Momo-san started to feel better. 

Yuki: I’m glad.

Okazaki Rintarou: The letter that brought Yuki back to his feet. Maybe it has something to do with me?

Yuki: It doesn’t.

Okazaki Rintarou: Actually, I wrote it. I’m the type of person who writes well. 

Yuki: Don’t think so.

Momo: I’m super curious…!! Yuki, if we win, tell me! Who the letter was from!

Yuki: …

Yuki: Haa… Fine…

Momo: Why are you so shy!? Aah, this is definitely Ban-san’s! Momo-chan’s jealousy is erupting!!

Yuki: Momo erupting from jealousy, that’s cute.

Momo: It’s not cute! Sorry, IDOLiSH7!! I’ll definitely beat you!!

Yuki: Nice. With that momentum, we’ll beat TRIGGER and ŹOOḼ as well. 

Momo: Of course! Re:vale are the eternal champions!! 

Okazaki Rinto: Haha, that’s reassuring! 

Okazaki Rintarou: Losing is fine, too. As long as you show us your stage, that is enough. 

Re:vale: We’re saying we'll win! 

Okazaki Rintarou: I get it, I get it. I said it to relax you.

Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, Momo-kun. Re:vale continuing to win until now wasn’t a coincidence.

Okazaki Rinto: Because it was the two of you, you were able to keep winning. Re:vale is the best duo. In the past, present and forever in the future. 

Momo: Okarin…

Okazaki Rinto: IDOLiSH7, TRIGGER and ŹOOḼ are aiming to defeat Re:vale… 

Okazaki Rinto: Doesn’t that sound king-like? Please be prepared to make a stand. 

Okazaki Rinto: Only you two know the pain of constant victory. 

Okazaki Rinto: The confusion of your adored kouhai becoming formidable rivals, too. 

Okazaki Rinto: However, you are being attacked by tremendous obstacles, rivals and pressure… 

Okazaki Rinto: And re:vale will definitely enjoy it and overcome it. 

Re:vale: …

Okazaki Rinto: Leave the role of taking stomach medicine to me. 

Okazaki Rinto: Enjoy what lies beyond that stage, whether it’s heaven or hell. 

Okazaki Rinto: Please show me your coolest Re:vale. 

Yuki: Haha… Because Okarin likes us being cool.

Momo: Then… Let’s show you our cool parts, shall we.

Momo: Thank you, Okarin.

Okazaki Rinto: No, right back at you. 

(knock knock)

Okazaki Rinto: Ah… Seems like someone came to check on us. I’ll go and check. 

Okazaki Rinto: Ah…You are… 

Yuki: Ah…

~ to be continued ~

--

6.13.3. - With each step closer

Anesagi Kaoru: Well then, you guys! The long-awaited “New Black or White” is here! 

Anesagi Kaoru: Don’t get too nervous, but do give us your best performance! I know you three can do it!

Anesagi Kaoru: After all, you came all the way back here using your own strength, 

Kujou Tenn: Anesagi-san…

Anesagi Kaoru: I know you were told this before… That we’re in uncertain times right now, so people choose safe things to love. 

Anesagi Kaoru: That they don’t even look at those who are hurt. That they are scared of getting hurt themselves, so they let go of them.

Anesagi Kaoru: But that is wrong. 

Anesagi Kaoru: There was an incredible number of people who never let go of you and kept cheering you on.

Anesagi Kaoru: It’s because you guys were the real deal. Even the people who were shaken by doubts and anxiety believed in TRIGGER and came back.

Anesagi Kaoru: You were born in the light, then swallowed by the darkness… And once again, you have obtained the light.  

Anesagi Kaoru: You are the only idols like that. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Ryuunosuke.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Yes.

Anesagi Kaoru: On that stage at the Tokyo International Music Festival, you didn’t run away and sang by yourself. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Because you sang there, TRIGGER exists as it is today. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Everyone’s hearts were moved by your courage and resolve then, by you saying that you wouldn’t ever let this go to waste. 

Anesagi Kaoru: They felt like as you connected from there to the future, there was nothing to be afraid of. 

Anesagi Kaoru: It was an amazing performance. You did a good job. 

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: …Thank you so much.

Anesagi Kaoru: Tenn.

Kujou Tenn: Yes.

Anesagi Kaoru: Even now, I clearly remember the street performance on that rainy day. I was crying out of frustration.

Anesagi Kaoru: But as you sung in that hell-like rain, you smiled and told your fans this: 

Anesagi Kaoru: “I’m glad I sang this song.” I still remember your face, your voice that day.

Kujou Tenn: …This is embarrassing.

Anesagi Kaoru: There's nothing to be embarrassed about. At that time, I was thinking I will definitely take you back to that dazzling stage again. 

Anesagi Kaoru: An idol who says he’s glad he sang, even while singing in hell. 

Anesagi Kaoru: It felt so wrong that a kid like that couldn’t stand on stage in this world. 

Anesagi Kaoru: It was like your crying face lit a fire within my and the fans’ hearts. We decided to start a revolution. 

Anesagi Kaoru: It’s like the tears of that day are connected to the present. 

Kujou Tenn: Thank you very much. Anesagi-san… 

Anesagi Kaoru: Gaku. You did a good job on both “Crescent Wolf” and “Zero”. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Regarding what happened to you guys, you must have been the one who was the most frustrated and hurt. 

Anesagi Kaoru: You’re straightforward, you have a lot of pride, and get agitated easily, after all. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Even though you were the one who was against Yaotome Productions’ aggressive sales tactics the most, you became a victim of that promotion. 

Anesagi Kaoru: We made you go through a hard time.

Yaotome Gaku: That goes for you as well. You must’ve had a hard time, too, Anesagi. 

Yaotome Gaku: But no matter what, there was no giving up. 

Anesagi Kaoru: That’s true. You never gave up. Even though you were hurt head-on, you didn’t avert your eyes; you just kept looking straight ahead. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Whether in an agency or independently, your strong pride and your competitive spirit never changed. 

Anesagi Kaoru: You’ve always been the real thing. Even when you were hurt and beaten down, there was never a moment of misery. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Seeing you unchanged, everyone started believing in TRIGGER once more. It was what made them want to come back. 

Anesagi Kaoru: Tonight… Lead TRIGGER to victory. You’re the leader. 

Yaotome Gaku: Of course. Together with these guys, I’ll definitely win! 

Yaotome Gaku: I’ll hold up a huge trophy and show it to the fans who came with us…!

Anesagi Kaoru: That’s the spirit! This era belongs to TRIGGER! 

Anesagi Kaoru: Idols who know both the top and the depths of hell. That’s you guys! 

Anesagi Kaoru: Before long, people will start saying that idols who only know what’s in the light are outdated. 

Anesagi Kaoru: TRIGGER can reach for glory already! Go ahead and do it to your heart’s content…! 

Kujou Tenn: Yes!

Yaotome Gaku: Yeah!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: I’ll sing as best as I can! 

(door opens)

Yaotome Sousuke: How are you guys doing? 

Anesagi Kaoru: My, it’s the President!  

Yaotome Gaku: Dad…

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: President, you came!

Yaotome Sousuke: TRIGGER will be joining the battle for the top spot, after all.

Yaotome Sousuke: I’ve never seen Black or White at the venue, but I felt like I wanted to be there today and cheer you on.

Yaotome Sousuke: I will witness the moment history changes in person. 

Yaotome Gaku: Yeah, leave it to me!

Yaotome Sousuke: And also…

(door opens)

Kujou Takamasa: Hey.

Kujou Tenn: Kujou-san…

Kujou Takamasa: I’m looking forward to seeing you guys on stage. Do your best.

Yaotome Sousuke: Originally, Kujou-san was supposed to be the head judge. But he declined.

Yaotome Gaku: So that’s why the special judging system was removed. 

Kujou Tenn: Why did you refuse?

Kujou Takamasa: Because I am biased and I would end up voting for TRIGGER.  

Kujou Tenn: …

Yaotome Gaku: Seriously? Even though you called us second-rate.

Kujou Takamasa: That was my mistake. I apologize. I am very sorry. I just didn’t want to lose Tenn.

Kujou Takamasa: You’re all first-rate idols. You sincerely love your fans, never stopping to improve yourselves, and you sincerely believe in both yourself and your teammates. 

Kujou Takamasa: You’re a great team. To the point where I am jealous. 

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: …Thank you very much. Hearing that the creator of the Zero era is jealous is the greatest compliment.

Kujou Takamasa: Likewise. Since I am a TRIGGER fan, too.

Kujou Takamasa: More than anything I am just happy to see your new live tonight. I’m looking forward to it.

Kujou Takamasa: May you three be left with no regrets. Winning or losing can come after. Do your best.

Kujou Tenn: Yes… Thank you very much. I’m glad you came to show your face. 

Kujou Takamasa: Yaotome-kun invited me. I assume it was difficult for him to come to the dressing room by himself. 

Yaotome Sousuke: Wha—… That is not true. It is because you said you had free time during the New Year holidays. 

Kujou Takamasa: You invited me.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: It’s heartwarming to see how well the old guys get along. 

Kujou Tenn: Do they?

Yaotome Gaku: Really?

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You don’t think so…? 

Anesagi Kaoru: Anyway! The president and Kujou-san both came to cheer you on!

Anesagi Kaoru: Give it your all in your own way and enjoy yourself to the fullest!

TRIGGER: Yes…

--

Nanase Riku: Ha…

Izumi Iori: Are you okay, Nanase-san?

Nanase Riku: I’m fine. I ended up being really nervous, after all… 

Izumi Iori: You probably didn’t get much sleep, did you? You woke up several times last night. 

Nanase Riku: If you know that, Iori, that means you couldn’t sleep either. 

Izumi Iori: Well…

Nikaidou Yamato: I always end up wide awake before a live. Especially since it’s “New Black or White”... 

Izumi Mitsuki: Don’t worry, don’t worry! Let’s overcome this with enthusiasm! 

Rokuya Nagi: Are you ready!?

IDOLiSH7: Yay!!

Yotsuba Tamaki: King!

IDOLiSH7: Pudding!

Izumi Mitsuki: We can do this, we can do this, we can do this!

Ousaka Sougo: Forget about the sleep deprivation and pretend you’re in your best condition! 

Izumi Iori: I assume the other groups are similar to this, too. ŹOOḼ in particular are the type who can’t sleep in this kind of situation.  

Ousaka Sougo: TRIGGER seem to be the type who sleep properly. The kind who gets up early so they can sleep well. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Re:vale are probably used to this kind of thing, after all. 

Izumi Iori: Speaking of which, Momo-san seems to be really motivated this year. 

Nanase Riku: A Momo-san who’s this motivated seems like trouble! Aah, stop scaring me! 

Izumi Iori: No. Change your way of thinking. 

Izumi Iori: There is no doubt Momo-san is a formidable opponent, but it is because he felt we were formidable opponents that he was fired up and took lessons. 

Rokuya Nagi＆Izumi Mitsuki＆Nanase Riku＆Nikaidou Yamato＆Ousaka Sougo＆Yotsuba 

Tamaki: …

Izumi Iori: We are the ones scaring Re:vale.

Yotsuba Tamaki: …A-Aren’t we kinda cool…!? 

Nanase Riku: We are!! They think we’re tough! 

Izumi Mitsuki: Alright! We can do this, we can do this, we can do this!

Rokuya Nagi: Burning! Our fighting spirits are burning! 

Ousaka Sougo: I think I’m feeling more confident!

Izumi Iori: Nikaidou-san, please tie things up cleanly as our leader. 

Nikaidou Yamato: R-Right… Alright! 

Nikaidou Yamato: Listen, you guys!

Rokuya Nagi＆Izumi Mitsuki＆Izumi Iori＆Nanase Riku＆Ousaka Sougo＆Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah…!

(door opens)

Yuki: Yamato-kun. I brought Shizuo-san… 

Nikaidou Yamato: Let’s beat Re:vale and have IDOLiSH7 take over the world! 

Rokuya Nagi＆Izumi Mitsuki＆Izumi Iori＆Nanase Riku＆Ousaka Sougo＆Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah…

Izumi Mitsuki: Ah, Yamato-san, behind you… 

Nikaidou Yamato: Your voice is too quiet!

Izumi Mitsuki: Sorry.

Nikaidou Yamato: Are you listening!? We’ll crush Re:vale and get the whole world to call for IDOLiSH7…!

Rokuya Nagi＆Izumi Mitsuki＆Izumi Iori＆Nanase Riku＆Ousaka Sougo＆Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah…

Nikaidou Yamato: What’s that “Yeah…”? Put your energy into it like last time and say, “Yeaaah!”... 

Yuki: Yamato-kun.

Nikaidou Yamato: Whaaaaat!?

Chiba Shizuo: That you, Yamato, would want the world to call IDOLiSH7’s name… 

Nikaidou Yamato: Whaaaaat!? What are you doing here!?

Rokuya Nagi: OH! Chiba Shizuo!!

Izumi Mitsuki: Hey, hey, hey! You’re Chiba-san, right?!  H-hello.

Chiba Shizuo: Nice to meet you. I am Chiba Shizuo.

Izumi Iori: I am Izumi Iori.

Izumi Mitsuki: I’m his older brother, Mitsuki.

Yotsuba Tamaki: I’m Yotsuba Tamaki.

Ousaka Sougo: I am Ousaka Sougo.

Rokuya Nagi: My name is Rokuya Nagi! I am your fan! Nice to meet you!

Nanase Riku: I’m Nanase Riku! Yamato-san is a great leader to us!

Chiba Shizuo: Likewise, you have also been a great help to Yamato. I’m sorry for how sudden this is. Yuki-kun brought me here…

Yuki: Look at you talk. Wasn’t that your intention?

Yuki: You came to Re:vale’s dressing room, so we brought you here. Come on, Yamato-kun. 

Nikaidou Yamato: What…

Yuki: He’s your dad. 

Nikaidou Yamato: I know…

Chiba Shizuo: No, I’m sorry for bothering you before such an important event. I think it’s time for the older people to leave. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Ah, sorry. It’s just… It’s not that I don’t like that you came. I was just surprised, so… 

Chiba Shizuo: I know. Yamato… 

Nikaidou Yamato: …

Chiba Shizuo: Please take over the world with IDOLiSH7. And make them call your name. 

Nikaidou Yamato: Please forget that I said that.

Yuki: I’m glad I didn’t bring Momo. You said you were going to crush Re:vale. 

Izumi Iori:  But that is certainly not a lie, because we will do it for sure. 

Yuki: You just declared war politely, huh.

Yuki: We won’t lose, either. Since Momo would be sad if we lost. And I don’t want to make Momo sad. 

Nanase Riku: We won’t lose, either! So we can become the greatest IDOLiSH7! 

Nanase Riku: Isn’t that right, Yamato-san!

Nikaidou Yamato: Ye… Yeah!

Rokuya Nagi & Izumi Mitsuki & Izumi Iori & Nanase Riku & Ousaka Sougo & Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah…!

Nikaidou Yamato: We are the ones who will stand at the top! 

Rokuya Nagi & Izumi Mitsuki & Izumi Iori & Nanase Riku & Ousaka Sougo & Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeah…!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Yama-san, you’re so cool!!

Rokuya Nagi: Yamato! You’re the hottest! 

Yuki: Oh? I’ll be sure to remember that.

Chiba Shizuo: You’ve become an adult… Win or lose, you’ve grown up splendidly.

Yuki: Shizuo-san. Please cheer me on as well. We’re friends, right?  

Chiba Shizuo: Of course, I want both of you to win. Yuki-kun, do your best. Yamato, do your best.

Rokuya Nagi: Good ahead and enjoy it! Here’s a penlight with Yamato’s color. 

Chiba Shizuo: Thank you. Looks like I could use that to strike someone down.

Nikaidou Yamato: Stop making that kind of joke!

Nanase Riku: Ahaha! Chiba-san is funny as well! 

Nanase Riku: It’s 12 o’clock… The venue opens in seven hours, huh… 

Nanase Riku: A new music festival, “Black or White Live Show Down”, begins!

Nanase Riku: Please make it so we can put on a performance we won’t have regr… (coughs) 

Nanase Riku: We won’t have regrets with!

Rokuya Nagi & Izumi Mitsuki & Izumi Iori & Nikaidou Yamato & Ousaka Sougo & Yotsuba Tamaki: Yeaaah…!

Izumi Iori: …

~ to be continued ~

--

6.13.4. - With our unwavering hearts

Mr. Shimooka: “Backyard MAGIC”.

Mr. Shimooka: I had to do the title call by myself because Mitsuki-kun isn’t here, how lonely~!

Mr. Shimooka: Now, time to pull myself together… Everyone! There’s only a little time left this year! 

Mr. Shimooka: Everyone knows the reason why Mitsuki-kun isn’t here, right?

Mr. Shimooka: The long-awaited “Black or White Live Showdown”. The male idol division finals!! It starts in one hour!!

Mr. Shimooka: In this program, we will be showing you the real faces of the idols who will be competing! 

Mr. Shimooka: Everyone, thank you!

(clapping)

Mr. Shimooka: Wow, this is so exciting. Re:vale, TRIGGER, IDOLiSH7, ŹOOḼ are all really fired up.

Mr. Shimooka: Mitsuki-kun should be at the venue right now, too. Good luck, everyone~! Then again, they probably don’t have the time to watch this? 

Mr. Shimooka: Well then! In this program, we would like to give you some advance information so that you can “Black or White” to the fullest! 

Mr. Shimooka: Here's the one who will give the explanation!

Mr. Shimooka: It’s Producer Matsunaga, the producer of this show and the person who started "New Black or White"!

Producer Matsunaga: Thank you for having me.

Mr. Shimooka: Well then, let's get started! Can you tell us about the rest of today's schedule?

Producer Matsunaga: Yes. Since you will be the host, Mr. Shimooka-san, I'm sure you already know…

Producer Matsunaga: The show and streaming will begin at 7 P.M.. The opening ceremony for "Black or White Live Showdown" will then begin.

Mr. Shimooka: The opening ceremony! I'm looking forward to it! It looks like it's going to be very exciting!

Producer Matsunaga: Yes! Please be sure to check out the idols' performances as well.

Producer Matsunaga: And then the mini lives begin. The mini lives consist of four songs. Please pay attention to the stage set and costumes.

Mr. Shimooka: The set list is still a secret, but the order in which each group will sing…

Producer Matsunaga: Has already been decided. It was decided by drawing lots the other day. There is also a video of that.

Mr. Shimooka: Ooh, let's take a look!

–

Staff: Inside are sticks with numbers from 1 to 4 written on them, please draw one.

Kujou Tenn: Understood.

Nikaidou Yamato: Who’s going to represent us?

Nanase Riku: Someone who’s lucky should go! Someone who drew a great fortune this year!* 

Nikaidou Yamato: Eeh!? I don't remember anything about the beginning of the year, though.

Izumi Mitsuki: Leader, leader, go!

Nikaidou Yamato: No, at times like this, I end up being the last one to perform…

Rokuya Nagi: Tamaki, you had great luck in the gacha the other day!

Yotsuba Tamaki: Right! I did a 10-pull and got 3 SSRs! Isn’t that amazing!? 

Ousaka Sougo: How amazing is that?

Yotsuba Tamaki: It’s an amazing probability! Almost as amazing as winning the lottery!

Izumi Iori: I wish I would win the lottery…

Rokuya Nagi: Tamaki, you're my angel!

Ousaka Sougo: Riku-kun, didn't you win the convenience store lottery?

Nanase Riku: I did! I won an Usamimi Friends pencil case!

Nikaidou Yamato: So it's Riku or Tama. You’ll play rock-paper-scissors and whoever wins can go.

Nanase Riku＆Yotsuba Tamaki: Rock, paper, scissors!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Which one of us is going?

Kujou Tenn: Isn’t Gaku fine for that? He seems like an auspicious guy.

Yaotome Gaku: Alright. Leave it to me.

Kujou Tenn: You didn’t ask "Why?" or anything.

Yaotome Gaku: I also think I'm an auspicious guy.

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: You’re so dependable! Let’s put our hands together.

Yaotome Gaku: Hahaha. Looks like a jizo!*

Yuki: Momo, you can be the one to draw the straw. 

Momo: U-Understood. Yuki, which one do you like best?

Yuki: The final act.

IDOLiSH7＆TRIGGER＆ŹOOĻ＆Momo: Ooooh…

Yuki: I don't like being first because I don't think I'll be mentally prepared in time.

Isumi Haruka: I don’t wanna be the first either… I’ll definitely be nervous… 

Inumaru Touma: Let’s aim for anything other than going first! Who’s going? 

Natsume Minami: Wouldn't Midou-san be a good choice?

Midou Torao: Why?

Natsume Minami: Somehow, I sensed an aura similar to that of an animal mascot beloved by the New Year deity once every 12 years from Midou-san ...

Natsume Minami: I think it might be Midou-san this year.

Midou Torao: I’m not sure, but if Minami who’s into fortune telling says it, I’ll draw the straw.

Staff: Then, please.

Nanase Riku: Here I go! Then, this one! 

Yaotome Gaku: I’ll take this one.

Momo: That one!

Midou Torao: That one! Please!　

Staff: We’ll pull after I say “go”. Ready… go.

Nanase Riku: …Second…！

Yaotome Gaku: Third!

Momo: Whoaaaaa! We’re the final act!　

Midou Torao: Whoaaaaa! We’re first!　

Isumi Haruka: That makes us the opening act…! 

Yuki: Good job, Momo.

Nanase Riku: Second! Second is just right!!! 

Izumi Mitsuki: Just right, just right! 

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: Isn't being third nice! We're three, after all!

Izumi Iori: Ah… It's in order of who debuted last, from the newest, ŹOOĻ-san, up to Re:vale-san.

Ousaka Sougo: That might be true… It's like the idol eras are going backwards.

Natsume Minami: That might be interesting, it's like following the feeling of history.

Isumi Haruka: But we're first…

Inumaru Touma: Don't worry! It’s when the audience is the most pumped up! And you can just go out with a bang!

Nanase Riku: I'm sure the audience will be all warmed up after ŹOOḼ, so things will be easy, thank you!

Inumaru Touma: Y-Yeah.

Yaotome Gaku: Perfect, we're in the right distance to pull the trigger on the champions. This year, we'll take the win.

Yuki: Fufu. We won't let you have it.

Momo: We definitely won't lose!!

Yotsuba Tamaki: We won't lose, either!!

--

Producer Matsunaga: …That's the result of it. 

Mr. Shimooka: Oooh! I see!  

Mr. Shimooka: There will be mini-lives with four songs each in the order of ŹOOḼ, IDOLiSH7, TRIGGER and then Re:vale; it'll be the best singing contest of all time!

Mr. Shimooka: Isn't that right, Matsunaga-san?! 

Producer Matsunaga: Indeed. For the specific times, please look at this.

Mr. Shimooka: From 7 p.m., the opening ceremony begins. ŹOOḼ’s live is at 8 p.m.. IDOLiSH7’s live is at 9 p.m…

Mr. Shimooka: TRIGGER’s live is at 10 p.m... Re:vale’s live is at 11 p.m…. And at 11:45 p.m., results will be announced!

Mr. Shimooka: It seems like it will become an unforgettable New Year's Eve!

Producer Matsunaga: Before the lives, there will be a video message from each group. 

Producer Matsunaga: Everyone at the venue, everyone in front of their TV, everyone watching this show; please feel free to listen to the idols’ enthusiasm! 

Mr. Shimooka: This is the first time and all, but seriously, I really cannot imagine which group will win!

Producer Matsunaga: That's true. Every group has the skills deserving of winning.

Mr. Shimooka: I will explain how the winner is decided once more!

Mr. Shimooka: There are three ways to vote! You can use the special “New Black or White” app to vote! You can vote via your TV menu!

Mr. Shimooka: And you can vote by dialing our dedicated phone line!

Mr. Shimooka: From now on, there will be no special votes by the judges, right?

Producer Matsunaga: That's true.

Producer Matsunaga: I considered having them, but the person I was considering for the position of head judge rejected, and….

Producer Matsunaga: He said that if we are judging the live itself, all people who have seen the live should have an equal right to do so. 

Producer Matsunaga: It is as he said. They came this far because they treasured the perspective of the viewers; the perspective of the audience the most.

Mr. Shimooka: A new era of Black or White… It's a very “Black or White Live Showdown”-like initiative!

Mr. Shimooka: Well then, before we show you the messages from the idols…

Mr. Shimooka: We are showing you a message from the people involved in the lives!

Mr. Shimooka: Behind the beautiful stage, there are many people, many talents sparkling just as much as the idols!

Mr. Shimooka: Built up by many people, today we finally have this stage! 

Mr. Shimooka: So that even more people will love this stage!

Mr. Shimooka: Let's take a look at the backyard of “Black or White”! There you go! 

--

Concert Promoter: Congratulations on the "Black or White Live Showdown"!

Concert Promoter: The idols on stage, the audience at the venue, and everyone watching via live stream…

Concert Promoter: From the bottom of their hearts, all of our staff will work together to do our best to provide you with the best possible experience!

Concert Promoter: So many talented people have come together with the honest aim of making someone happy and inspire them.

Concert Promoter: It will be the best New Year ever. You definitely won't regret it! Look forward to it!

--

Re:vale Costume Designer: Congratulations to everyone on the "Black or White Live Showdown.”

Re:vale Costume Designer: I am really happy to have the opportunity to be involved in this huge festival as Re:vale's costume designer.

Re:vale Costume Designer: I'm a bit worried about whether I did a perfect job, but they really liked my costumes…

Re:vale Costume Designer: How can I put it.... I think Re:vale wearing my costumes is the coolest thing in the world.

Re:vale Costume Designer: Ah, I'm getting too cocky. Fufu…

Re:vale Costume Designer: We've been making adjustments to match the atmosphere of the song and the choreography, so please look forward to it.

Momo: Please look forward to it!

Re:vale Costume Designer: Ah, Momo-san.

Momo: Ahaha! Sorry, I was listening there!

Re:vale Costume Designer: It's super embarrassing….

Momo: Not at all! You're so handsome! Ah, after Yuki, that is! 

Re:vale Costume Designer: Fufu, I know. 

TRIGGER Stage Designer: Well… Congratulations on the "Black or White Live Showdown.”

TRIGGER Stage Designer: Looking at the set design, the set design... What can I say in one word? I shouldn't give away any spoilers, right?

TRIGGER Stage Designer: ...That's difficult…

TRIGGER Stage Designer: This time there are four songs… That is less than 30 minutes long. And what's more, they have to perform within that short time.

TRIGGER Stage Designer: So I tried to create a sense of immersion and a worldview that was on par with what you'd get from watching a two-hour movie or a three-hour play.

TRIGGER Stage Designer:  I think we were able to create a stage worthy of TRIGGER. Please look forward to it.

TRIGGER Stage Designer: ...Hmm? Who will I root for? TRIGGER, of course.

TRIGGER Stage Designer: Ahahaha! 

--

ŹOOḼ choreographer: Congratulations on the "Black or White Live Showdown”—!

ŹOOḼ choreographer: Wow, it's quite exciting... I want ŹOOḼ to win, but even just entering the competition is impressive.

ŹOOḼ choreographer: That alone is enough… No, I really want them to win after all!

ŹOOḼ choreographer: Everyone at ŹOOḼ has strong fundamental skills, is clever and highly technical... And what's more, they're not afraid of challenges.

ŹOOḼ choreographer: It's an honor to work with them! I'm sure tonight will be another great night!

ŹOOḼ choreographer: ŹOOḼ! Do your best！

Inumaru Touma: Wah, what are you doing？

ŹOOḼ choreographer: Touma-san！

Inumaru Touma: I just heard you tell me to do my best.

ŹOOḼ choreographer: The interview! The BackMagic one!

Inumaru Touma: Ah! Thanks for your work.

ŹOOḼ choreographer: Do your best at winning Black or White! ŹOOḼ! Do your best!

Inumaru Touma: Yeah. I'll do my best.

--

IDOLiSH7 producer: Congratulations on the "Black or White Live Showdown”!

IDOLiSH7 producer: I'm very happy to be able to take part in this wonderful stage with lots of tradition.

IDOLiSH7 producer: And the members of IDOLiSH7, whose stage production our team was able to support…

IDOLiSH7 producer: As well as TRIGGER, Re:vale, and ŹOOḼ are all truly wonderful people who love and are loved by so many people.

IDOLiSH7 producer: Tonight, I believe that the greatest stars will bring their best smiles and their best sparkle to see your smiling faces.

IDOLiSH7 producer: Let's keep this miracle-like sparkle in this world just a little longer, stronger…

IDOLiSH7 producer: I will do my best to make sure that many people can see it and that these wonderful people receive more love.

IDOLiSH7 producer: Please, please, look forward to it…! 

--

Oogami Banri: The opening ceremony is about to start in 30 minutes. Is everyone ready?

IDOLiSH7: Yes!

Takanashi Tsumugi: Do your best!

Takanashi Otoharu: Everyone, do your best!

Izumi Mitsuki: Yes! Everyone, we’ll do it!　

Yotsuba Tamaki: Whoaa！Let's do this!

Rokuya Nagi: Let's enjoy the best New Year's party!

Nikaidou Yamato: That's right! Let's forget about winning or losing for a moment and let's entertain the people watching!

Nanase Riku: Yes! I'll do my best…!

Ousaka Sougo: …

Izumi Iori: Ousaka-san, what's wrong?

Ousaka Sougo: Ah, no…

Oogami Banri: Sougo-kun, can I talk to you for a second?

Ousaka Sougo: Yes…

Oogami Banri: I just checked the seats, and there's no one there in the ones reserved for your parents.

Ousaka Sougo: …Is that so…

Oogami Banri: I thought it would be bad if you got upset when you get on stage. If anything changes, I'll let you know.

Ousaka Sougo: No, it's okay… I don't think they'll come.

Oogami Banri: Sougo-kun…

Ousaka Sougo: It's better this way. Thank you for letting me know. Thanks to that, I feel better now.

Yotsuba Tamaki: Sou-chan, are you alright?

Ousaka Sougo: Yeah. Let's do our best, everyone!

IDOLiSH7: Yeah…！

~ to be continued ~

--

6.13.5. - Up on that stage

Woman: …It's about to start…

Takara Mage: …My heart is pounding…

Kujou Takamasa: …

Kujou Aya: …Kujou-san…

Kujou Takamasa: Aya… I thought you wouldn't come.

Kujou Aya: I was hesitant, but… It's my big brothers' big day.

Kujou Takamasa: That's right. It would be a shame to miss it.

Kujou Takamasa: We are witnessing the beginning of a new tradition, after all.

--

Audience: Kyaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Welcome to “Black or White Live Showdown”...!!

Audience: Kyaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: The renewed monster show has powered up and descended upon the country tonight!!

Mr. Shimooka: I'm your host, Mr. Shimooka! I’ll be in your care!

Audience: Kyaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: As you all probably know, this is the venue where the top male idols will compete!

Mr. Shimooka: It's up to you all to decide who will be the winner...! Please cheer as much as you can so that there will be no regrets!

Audience: Kyaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Are you ready!?

Audience: Kyaaaaah...…

Mr. Shimooka: Ready!?

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: So, let's invite them in! The four groups aiming for the throne! First off...

Mr. Shimooka: ŹOOḼ……！！

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Here they are, ŹOOḼ! They're appearing in the costumes they wore for "Poisonous Gangster," their stunning debut song!

Isumi Haruka:: …

Audience: Haruka! I love you…!

Inumaru Touma: …

Audience: Touma! I'll always cheer you on!

Natsume Minami: …

Audience: Minami-kun, you look cool...!

Midou Torao: …

Audience: Torao-kun, you're the best...!

Mr. Shimooka: The event started with some intense music! The opening dance performance!

Mr. Shimooka: Perhaps with their debut song in mind, they've done some intense dancing with a gangster-like story! Cool, isn’t it...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Audience B: ŹOOḼ's dance is so cool...! I wonder if we'll be able to see all the other groups too!?

Audience A: Oh my god!　I’m about to cry…！

Audience A: Everyone at ŹOOḼ… Even though you're surrounded by amazing idols, don't be intimidated, just do your best in your own way...!

Audience A: So cool and gangster...! ŹOOḼ, I love you...!

Inumaru Touma: …Ha…

Inumaru Touma: ŹOOḼ！We’re in your care!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Thank you to everyone at ŹOOḼ! The next group to appear is...

Mr. Shimooka: IDOLiSH7！

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: IDOLiSH7 appear in the costumes, which they wore when they won in their first Black or White competition as challengers singing “MEMORiES MELODiES”!

Nanase Riku: …

Audience: Riku-kun…！Riku-kun, I love you…!

Izumi Iori: …

Audience: Iori~! Do your best~!

Nikaidou Yamato: …

Audience: Yamato-san...! He’s cool...!

Izumi Mitsuki: …

Audience: Mitsuki~！　I love you…！

Yotsuba Tamaki: …

Audience: Tamaki...!! He’s the best...!

Ousaka Sougo: …

Audience: Sougo-san...! I love you...!

Rokuya Nagi: …

Audience: Nagi-kun! I love you...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: A dance performance by IDOLiSH7!

Mr. Shimooka: A refreshingly prince-like, poppy, light-hearted dance to go with the aristocrat-like costumes!

Woman: ...It’s R-Riku-kun.... I finally got to meet the real Riku-kun...

Woman: ...That's amazing, so amazing.... We're in the same space right now... I was so happy that tears came to my eyes...

Woman: I'm glad I got to know Riku-kun. I'm glad I could come here today.... I'm glad I did my best up until today...!

Woman: I was anxious and confused, but all that was blown away! I made a decision and it was great!

Woman: I love Riku and everyone else...! I love everything I can see right now...

Nikaidou Yamato: …Ha…

Nikaidou Yamato: We’re IDOLiSH7! We’re in your care…!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Audience: Yamato...! I love you...!

Audience: Nagi-kun! I love you...!

Mr. Shimooka: Wow, the cheers show no signs of dying down! Thank you to everyone in IDOLiSH7...!

Mr. Shimooka: Now, next up is this group!

Mr. Shimooka: TRIGGER！

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: TRIGGER will be appearing in the costumes from their shocking debut song "DIAMOND FUSION" that shook all of Japan!

Yaotome Gaku: …

Audience: Gaku-kun…! You’re the best…!!

Kujou Tenn: …

Audience: Tenn-kun！I came to see you...!

Tsunashi Ryuunosuke: …

Audience: Tsunashi-san！I will always, unchangingly love you...!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…

Mr. Shimooka: A dance performance by TRIGGER!

Mr. Shimooka: TRIGGER's sexy and mysterious dance feels like an invitation to a secret evening party!

Takara Mage: Whoaaa……！TRIGGER is so cool...!!

Takara Mage: I think I just made eye contact with Ryuunosuke...!

Nearby Woman: Oh my god! I think I just made eye contact with Ryuunosuke-san...!

Takara Mage: …

Nearby Woman: …

Takara Mage: Whoooooa…! 

Nearby Woman: Kyaaaaah…! 

Yaotome Gaku: …Ha…

Yaotome Gaku: We’re TRIGGER! Let's enjoy the last hours of the year!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: A thunderous cheer...! Thank you to everyone at TRIGGER...!

Mr. Shimooka: Next up is this group!

Mr. Shimooka: Re:vale！

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Re:vale are dressed in costumes from “SILVER SKY,” an anniversary song released on the 5th anniversary of their debut!

Momo: …

Audience: Momo-chan, do your best...!

Yuki: …

Audience: Yuki-san, you're the best!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Re:vale's dance performance!

Mr. Shimooka: From stillness to motion, these are stunning entertainers! After a stunning debut, they quickly rose to the throne, showing off his charisma!

Sunohara Ruri: Kyah…！Momo! Do your best...!

Sunohara Ruri: Yuki-kun, do your best, too! Re:vale will definitely win again this year...!

Man: Do your best, please—...!

Momo: …Ha…

Momo: We’re Re:vale! Everyone, we’re in your care~!

Audience: Kyaaaah…!

Mr. Shimooka: Thank you to the two of you from Re:vale!

Mr. Shimooka: Now, at last, all the young people competing for the crown are gathered! Who will the goddess of victory smile upon?

Mr. Shimooka: Is it ŹOOḼ!?

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: IDOLiSH7!?

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: TRIGGER!?

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: Or Re:vale!?

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah…

Mr. Shimooka: We'll find out the answer tonight!

Mr. Shimooka: "Black or White Live Showdown", Male Idol Division, Opening!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

Mr. Shimooka: The first act begins at 8 p.m., which is when ŹOOḼ's live will start!

Mr. Shimooka: While we set up the stage, please enjoy a video message from ŹOOḼ!

Mr. Shimooka: Well then, everyone! Let's enjoy the hottest New Year's Eve in the world!

Audience: Kyaaaaaaah...

~ to be continued ~

--

TL notes:

* Riku is talking about getting “great fortune” in the omikuji you got during hatsumoude * This is a jizo, a common statue. Hello, it's mod Riku again!

This was a long one... and the next one will be even longer (6 sub-chapters), so don't expect it for a while, haha. On the plus side, it is the last one, and we will finish this year unless I literally get hit by a bus! ᴴᵃʳᵘᵏᵃ⁻ᵏᵘⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

First TL note courtesy of Haruka-kun btw, thanks for that!

[swaps55]

When does Anderson realise what's going on between Sam and Kaidan?

After the Normandy goes down he glimpses into Kaidan's grief. When Kaidan starts fighting his way back after that he gets to know him better. When does the other shoe drop? He knows Sam so well, shouldn't be taking him forever ..?

This is a FANTASTIC question, and one I have given a fair amount of thought. I'd claim "spoilers!" and keep the answer close to the chest, but it'll be a hot minute before I get to it, and who knows if anyone will still be reading by that point. XD

Still, I'll put it under a spoiler for anyone who doesn't want to know.

I initially asked myself the same question: why hasn't Anderson figured this out yet?

And here's the answer I came to: Anderson is not just grieving a soldier, he's grieving a son, and I imagine he feels very alone in that grief. Plenty of people knew Commander Shepard. Not many people knew Sam. In Kaidan, Anderson has found a rare person who understands his grief. That's a powerful thing. My guess is that he wouldn't take the time to ask why or examine it very deeply - all his emotional and mental energy is going towards burying and moving on for someone he loved like his own child.

When Sam comes back, I don't think it occurs to him to ask, "why do you care so much?" when "thank god you care as much as I do," is all that really matters.

So with that said, when does he figure it out?

Originally, my answer was: he doesn't. I was going to leave it at, "he never figures it out on his own, and Sam doesn't get the chance to tell him." It was going to be a huge regret for Sam that his father figure never knew he'd found someone.

But as I've gotten deeper into Opus and deeper into Mezzo, I'm no longer happy with that. It feels like pain for the sake of pain, rather than pain that's meaningful to the narrative or to the characters.

So toss that one in the garbage. So what does happen, then? Sam and Anderson don't have a whole lot of opportunity to interact before the reapers come. When Sam is in lockup, he's not exactly going to be chatty about his fraternization history. We've already walked through that he doesn't really clock it from Kaidan, because the role Kaidan plays in Anderson's own complicated feelings for Sam's death and resurrection give him a pretty big blind spot.

My working premise, then, is that Anderson does find out, but not because he figures it out.

It's because when Kaidan gets injured on the final push, Sam pulls his helmet off and lays one on him right in front of Anderson before they say goodbye, and Anderson has a bigger "oh" moment than either Sam or Kaidan ever had, lol.

I've written a snippet of the conversation Sam and Anderson might have about it in Anderson's final moments. It's less a snippet and more of some passing dialogue in my head that I scribbled down so I wouldn't forget it:

~

"Tell me about him. About...you and him."

"What about it?"

Anderson gestures with a weak hand. "Any of it. All of it. I...missed everything, and it was right under my nose."

"No," Shepard says softly. "You didn't. It just sort of...grew up around us. Like it never started and just always...was."

"Tell me."

At first Shepard is silent. Fear strikes Anderson's heart, but then he shifts, exhale coming out like a rattle. "Ever just...meet someone, and then turn around one day and realize there is nothing you wouldn't do, no bridge you wouldn't cross, no sin you wouldn't commit...for them."

A faltering smile touches Anderson's lips as he remembers the lost boy playing in the fountain, the kid who was determined to bend physics to his will, the man who laid in a hospital bed after turning the N7 test on its head and asked if he'd done enough.

"Yes. I have."

[di-42]

September's Scrumptious Fictions

Another month where I wish I could have read more fictions! But definitely some gems in the ones I did read, among which a couple of stories that touched me at a very a deep level, and I'm so, so glad I read them!

As usual I will tag the writers whose Tumblr usernames i know, so they can know they bring joy to their readers. Hope you enjoy these lovely stories as much as i did! If you do, please, please, please, let the writers know!

WIPs:

Wavelengths & Frequencies by @shadesofecclescakes and imposterssyndrome @maaikeatthefullmoon (Rated E, chapters 9/?)

If you feel like you're going through one of those phases where you need to curl up on a sofa with a cup of hot chocolate and something good to read, something safe and reassuring, then this fantastic fiction is for you. It's a human AU enemies-to-lovers fiction where Aziraphale and Crowley can't stand each other, but work for the same media corporation as radio DJs and have to attend charity events together. The characterisation is spot on and the humour great. And what an incredible soundtrack! I honestly can't tell you how happy each notification of a new chapter of this story makes me!

You're The Bad Guys by Nebz_AlphaCentauri @alphacentaurinebula (Rated E, chapters 12/?)

Cold War human AUs in which Aziraphale is an MI6 agent ans Crowley a KGB agent. They get assigned to the same mission in Berlin in 1981. They're on opposite sides. Great characterisation and suspense! And great nods to canon!

Love Lost Is Sweeter When It's Finally Found... by Hopeless_old_romantic_67 (Rated E, chapters 13/?)

After the Second Coming has been averted God allows Crowley and Aziraphale to live as humans for as many loves as they want, but with no memory of who they really are. Welcome to a Quantum Leap-y fiction, inspired by the video Past Loves by Børns. Unlike me, most of you will probably get all the names refernces!

My own WIP And I Did (Rated E, chapters 9/14)

Post season two fiction featuring Supreme Archangel Aziraphale and Grand Duke of Hell Crowley. Satan tasks Crowley with leading Hell to the End of the World. God tasks Aziraphale with leading Heaven to the End of the World. They both have made their choice and they were never going to make a different one.

Complete works:

Wrong Turn by anticyclone, D20Owlbear (Rated Teen, 37,565 words)

Honestly, I don't know why this fiction touched me so much. I just couldn't stop thinking about it for days after I finished it. It's a post season 1 fiction where Crowley suddenly finds himself in a parallel universe at the time the apocalypse is just about to happen. The Crowley and Aziraphale in that universe have a different history to our Crowley and Aziraphale. All our Crowley wants to do is to go back to his universe and his very own angel, but how? As you follow the main plot and focus on Crowley's thoughts and actions, you'll start slowly feeling the other story get hold of you, and it won't let go until the very end and beyond.

Happiness, More Or Less by mllekurtz (TheKnittingJedi) (Rated M, 21,445 words)

If you read only one story out of this list, make it this one. This human AU moved me so very much I cried. Crowley moves into his new flat in Soho, only to discover the flat in haunted by the ghost of the owner of the bookshop downstairs. I won't tell anything else about the plot other than it does have a very sweet happy ending, and it gets there via a rollercoaster of emotions. This is really one of those fictions that leave me in awe of the fandom's talent and creativity. Read it, read it, read it!

Time Marches Forward by @bellisima-writes (Rated M, 129,182 words)

Post season two story with an incredible plot! This story has multiple POVs, including Adam's, who's one of the main characters, and rightly so! Aziraphale is in heaven as supreme archangel, while on earth Adam and Crowley form a very strong bond. We follow their journey in the two years between the end of season two and the second coming. Lots of angst with a very happy ending!

One Shots:

Accidental Sleepover by MetalMiez (Rated Teen, 11,525 words)

Set after season one, this fiction is a sweet account of how Crowley and Aziraphale get to confess their feelings to each other. There are references to season two, but in this what-if universe it never happened.

We Keep Love In A Photograph by @itsscottiesstark (Rated G, 2,066 words)

A very sweet and credible account of what might have happened next on that night in 1941, and what Aziraphale and Crowley's thoughts might have been.

One Perfect Day by PirateFanatic (Rated Teen, 4,821 words)

Canon universe story where Crowley and Aziraphale are safe. In fact, they are about to go to a wedding. As Aziraphale dresses up, Crowley moans that he doesn't want to go, but Aziraphale doesn't give him a choice. And, in the words of the writer, with good reason.

The Bentley And The Pumpkin by graywings @smua70 (Rated G, 1,559 words)

Such an incredibly sweet and fun story, told in the Bentley's POV! The poor car was feeling lonely there in the South Downs, away from the hustle and bustle of London. But not to worry, she'll have her happy ending!