still don't understand how such a pretty face has a body like that

How the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury

I’ve been wanting to make a post about this for a while, even though I might be the only person invested in this, but anyway, here we go.

I’ve seen mentioned several times, in posts about the movie and in fics that the Winter Soldier shot Nick Fury through the window of Steve’s apartment, and every time it makes me groan in frustration because no.

The Winter Soldier didn’t shoot Fury through a window, he shot him through a wall, and I don’t know about you, but it seems like a pretty big difference to me.

(bullet hole in the wall!!)

When I saw the scene the first time, I remember thinking holy shit??? that’s crazy, and for me that’s when the Winter Soldier really became a real, terrifyingly good assassin, that’s when his image as a serious threat solidified.

Read about the blogger getting carried away under the read more.

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anonymous asked:

thanks for being realistic. the fact u think of the % of how many real ships we might have within 7 guys got me. honestly, i ship km really hard, but sometimes the reality hits me harder. like i know many shippers are actually overhyped a specific km youtuber, but for me, half of her stuffs might be a little reach. don't you think jm is a little hard to read. i totally down for jk, but sometimes jm makes me think he's doing fanservice, or maybe not, bcz he's such a tease and unpredictable.

hi anon~, welcome back (I guess you’re the one who asked about that particular ask) ^-^~
I’m sorry for my late reply again, I’m so wrecked today too and I needed time to think about it.

Okay~, I dunno if it helps, but here is what I tell myself a lot (as much as I love them, ship them, basically root for them, want them to be happy together if possible of course): “My ship ain’t real until they confirm/say it themselves that they’re real”. And even until then, there’s still sth to consider, called “marketing strategy”, since this is the Kpop world we’re talking about (there have been idols dating simply for promoting their groups). However, with all my honesty, and my (biased) belief, BTS and Big Hit will never go that far. The members treasure the members themselves, and the members also treasure us fans.

This is getting so heavy somehow so lemme insert a gif to make things a little bit brighter 

Originally posted by rapmonsexpensivegirl

Okay I’m good to go. So does that mean they don’t do fanservice at all? Of course not. But they’ve toned it down throughout the years. I don’t follow other members as much as Jimin (it’s the truth, I’m a Jimin stan afterall), so I can’t really tell you about it. But for Jimin, I agree with some other people, that the Jimin now we see is more like the real Jimin, not less than the Jimin back in 2013-2014. That, by no means, implies that he was fake either. He could’ve been himself, but at the same time, he had to push himself outside his own norms too. It’s nothing unusual, since they just debuted, plus he was young, they needed attention, they needed to be entertaining, as rookies, they needed to do a lot of stuff. 

Back to our babies Jimin and Jungkook, to be honest and realistic again, of course 100% things they do to each other can’t solely be on their own accords, without being driven by what we call fanservice. However, honestly again, has Jikook/Kookmin always been a popular ship? No, not until recently. Imo, the more popular ship has the tendency to do fanservice more. I think Sajeon-nim also talked about this somewhere in her asks. And one more important thing, Jikook/Kookmin is mostly known for being subtle (but probably not until recently, thanks to our Jeon Jungkook-ssi being so whipped and seems to have no intention of hiding it or toning it down. Well, not that I don’t encourage you, keep up the good work, baby bunny ♥). Like you really have to pay attention to it to actually know it, but once you notice it, you notice it all the time, it’s like a pattern, a series that never ends.

All the “I got my (heart) eyes on you” here, here, here and there:

Originally posted by jikookdetails

Most of the time, there’s basically no reason for them to do fanservice at all, because it happens too fast (for a few secs, or not even 1 sec), and basically no one is really watching, they’re not in the center of attention etc. …

All the time Jungkook made fun of himself simply just to make Jimin laugh, and he even checked if Jimin actually laughed…

The time they got caught walking together in the back in Bon Voyage, ate with the same spoon (I’m sure they have plenty of spoons in airbnb houses) even tho Jungkook tried not to drink directly from the same bottle with others (no offense to any ship really, I just can’t find more examples in my rusty mind)

Originally posted by theseoks

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anonymous asked:

I'LL FUCKJN FIGHT THE UNIVERSE MYSELF TO GET IT TO START LETTING GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO THESE BOYS (20 fic continuation with 45 or 71 with "the best case scenario")

-Okay so I too am always a slut for angst, but I’m also a major softie so I’d die without happy endings. Pretty please do a part II of the #20 prompt??? Bonus points for Neil being a little shit about catching Andrew getting all mother-hen over him.

-Will you do a sequel to the Neil coma fic?

-I feel like reading your angst is like me asking you to step on my heart with stilettos on (but like in a good way?? somehow??) It’s like these boys suffered so much in canon that I feel bad wanting them to suffer more but like… the angst tho… But then again I’m always a sucker for a happy ending… So could you continue your prompt 20 post using prompt 59??

lmaoooo okay okay xD here’s the original post. I could only fit 45 and 71 in, but hopefully this is alright for everyone

#45 “What are you looking at?”
#71 “You don’t get to pick and choose. You’re stuck with me.”

Neil regains consciousness in increments, and it’s nothing like waking up. He feels like he’s floating, and then he feels heavy, and he’s aware that he’s in a bed but he’s not sure of anything else. He’s sure he’s forgetting about something, like there’s a scrap of information at the back of his mind but it’s hidden behind heavy boxes that won’t budge. He would need Andrew to move all of that baggage.


Neil becomes aware of someone talking to him, but it’s not Andrew. He knows that; it’s the only thing he’s certain of. 

He opens his eyes because he needs to know if Andrew is nearby. The first person he sees is a middle-aged woman smiling at him. Beside her stands a twenty-something man in polkadot scrubs. Neil frowns and turns his head the other way. Andrew’s eyes lock with his, and Neil feels less like there’s a stack of cinderblocks on his chest. HIs breath falls heavy from his parted lips, and for a moment he allows his eyes to close, knowing that Andrew is there to keep him safe.

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For thine is the kingdom

The first time Damian wears the Nightwing uniform he’s eighteen, the same age Dick was when he decided that Robin was his past and not his future anymore.

Or, his children are growing up, and Dick’s having a hard time accepting it. 

The basic idea for this AU is pretty much the original Morrison run with the addition of Dick and Kory being married and already having Mar’i when Damian came along in the picture. So when Bruce “died” and Dick replaced him as Batman, he and Kory just officially adopted Damian and raised him as their own, thank you very much. 

Two big inspirations I have to credit: Kingdom Come (…duh, I know, but I’ve recently reread it and god, I love it) and dar-draws amazing Dickkory+Damian&Mar’i fanarts

Written for Batfam Week, Day 5: Legacy

Read on AO3

The first time Damian wears the Nightwing uniform he’s eighteen, the same age Dick was when he decided that Robin was his past and not his future anymore. Dick tries not to make dangerous equations about the two of them and just pushes the thought aside. Damian’s not going through an identity crisis, he’s just filling in for a night per Dick’s own request.

Tonight he’s supposed to meet with one of his lead regarding a big case GCPD’s been working on for a year now, but a long and less than thrilling chase through the sewers has left him with a sprained ankle, and his source will not talk to anyone else but Nightwing. Damian found it funny and accepted right away to replace him, if only to spend the night teasing him about how old and slow Dick’s getting (and Dick swats him around the head and laughs with him at every joke, but deep down he does wonder. Five years ago, this wouldn’t have happened at all, and even if it had happen, it wouldn’t have prevented him from doing his job anyway.)

Now he sits on the couch in the sweatpants he uses as pyjamas, fidgeting with his crutch and waiting for Damian to step out his bedroom. He has already a joke on the tip of his tongue about Damian’s ass not being up to the part, but before the kid finishes changing, the front door opens with a bang and Mar’i comes running in the living room with a grin spreading all over her face.

“Is he still here?”, she asks Dick, then she makes her way into Damian’s room without waiting for the answer. “Damian! I want to see!”

“What- Get out!”, Damian shouts back. “Dick!”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be a prude!”, Mar’i teases him, and Dick can’t see them, but he hears the beginning of a scuffle and sighs.

“Mar’i, let him change in peace!”, Dick calls out after his daughter, but he’s kind of smiling at Damian’s outraged protests and Mar’i delighted laughs. Also, he has no intention of getting up for now, so they better sort it out on their own.

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anonymous asked:

Do you know any fics where clarke overhears bellamy talking about his feelings for her or maybe you can write one if you don't know any ??

It’s not right to overdrop.

I’m pretty sure this is not what you had in mind anon, but I think they idea is pretty cool :) S/o to @asavelveteen for beta’ing this one!

Also, I want to dedicate this fic to my lovely friend Jess (@keller007​) and wish her again Happy fucking birthday! Love you girl <3

She feels herself coming back, but it’s harder than she thought it would be. Her whole body is in pain and it’s far too heavy for her to be able to move. And the only thing that feels heavier than her own body are her eyelids, which she can’t seem to open. So, she stays in darkness and just breaths.

How is she?”

Someone is close to her. Someone is asking about her.

She’s getting better with every passing moment. You stopped the bleeding before it was too late. Now, we just have to wait for her to wake up on her own.”

So, that’s what happened. She had been bleeding out and someone saved her life. But she doesn’t remember that at all. At least that explains why she’s so tired.

Hey. She’s going to be alright.”

Yes- I- I know- I just… I can’t lose her, Abby.”

Abby. Her mother’s there. That means she must be in medical with her and someone else, whose voice she still can’t recognize, but whose voice is hoarse with fear of losing her. Why everything is a blur in her head, she can’t really understand. She really hopes it’s because of the blood loss and not anything serious, anything permanent. There are a few moments in silence and then…

The blood- god, there was so much blood and it wouldn’t stop coming and I was so scared- I thought- she was still and I- fuck. This is all my fault. If I was-”

You saved her life, Bellamy.”

So the voice she couldn’t recognize was Bellamy’s and now it’s crystal clear because she’s heard the ‘this is my fault’ line one too many times from him. And every other time, she was there to take that thought and guilt away from him, to make him realize he can’t save everyone. Every time except now.

Now, she’s stuck in this situation, half-conscious, and all she can do is listen.

If I had saved her, she wouldn’t still be lying on that bed. It’s been a week now.”

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anonymous asked:

I saw you wrote that thingy about Trans!Will on his period and I was maybe wondering if I could request something like that? Like maybe... Will coming out to Nico or something like that? (I've never done this question thing before and its anonymous and my anxiety is urging me to press the cancel button and I don't know why 👀).

never be scared to send in an ask, on or off anon!! i love getting asks tbh… and i love writing trans will stuff!! i have another trans will coming out fic on my ao3 (willsolaceyall) so hit me up there if you wannu to!


Will didn’t hide any part of his identity - that wasn’t his style. He was a Loud and Proud kind of guy. Will Solace was the kind of guy to yell “I’m gay!” at the top of his lungs in response to any personal question. On top of that, he often wore the trans flag emblazoned on different jackets and shirts and even socks. On many an occasion, Will walked around camp with a giant pride flag draped across his shoulders as he zoomed around like a superhero and called himself ‘The Terf Destroyer’. 

So, he never thought he’d have to come out to Nico. But, apparently, he was wrong.

Nico’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, pretty dark eyes locked on Will’s blue ones. “Wait, wait,” he interrupted again. “You’re talking like you have that too?”

Will’s face scrunched up like he’d taken a bite of something both very sour and terribly alarming. “What, a period? That’s because I do. You know that, darlin’, don’t you?”

Bushy red hair came into Nico’s view and suddenly he was looking at Rachel with the same perplexed expression. “Are you alright, Nico?” she asks and suddenly Nico isn’t so sure.

“You’re a man..” his whisper came, quiet yet so loud to Will’s ears. No amount of sparring in the distance could drown out his voice. Not even the volleyball game that was taking place nearby. “How do you have .. that?”

Will blinked. He rubbed his eyes, stuck his pinkies in his ears and twisted to clear them. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry and was obvious. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t think I’m understanding you. Do you have amnesia or something?”

Nico shook his head. “I would remember this, believe me.”

“Nico… I’m not exactly quiet about being trans. You know I’m trans, right?”

Rachel took this time to excuse herself. Apparently a mural was carving it’s way through her mind and if she didn’t skip off to paint it right this minute, they’d all face the wrath of Phoebus Apollo himself. (”It’s always nice to see my dad.” Will snarked. Rachel left laughing.)

When Rachel was finally gone far enough away, Will nervously shifted towards his boyfriend, clearing his throat. “You do know I’m trans, right? Like, this is okay?”

Nico shrugged. “I don’t know what trans means.”

“You…” Will’s blond curls fall over his forehead messily and that he didn’t automatically bring his hand up to toy with them or move them out of his face said something very loudly to Nico. And then Will sighed, brought his hand up in one motion, and tugged all of his own light hair backwards, pulling it. His eyes were wide. “How has no one told you yet…”

And Nico just shrugged again. He said, “Will you?” and smiled a bit when Will agreed because, of course Nico, why wouldn’t I?

“Well, there’s a lot of ways to explain this,” Will murmured. “But, I guess that the easiest way for someone who was born in your time period is… I was born a girl.” He paused at the look of surprise on Nico’s face. “Well, not really. But everyone though I was a girl because of body stuff. You know how doctors are. Bunch of quacks.” It’s here that Nico laughed, bringing hope to Will’s heart like he always did. “It wasn’t until later in my life, when I figured out I could be a boy that I realized that I always had been, secretly, inside. So.. I’ve got all the funny birthing components, like a uterus, or whatever you need, but I’m still a dude. There’s intersex trans dudes who might have different stuff,” Here, Nico’s face grew more perplexed, which cue’d Will’s turn to laugh. “Okay, okay, we’ll save that for a different discussion. But, basically, I’m transgender, which means ‘identifying as a different gender than the one assigned at birth’. They said I was a pretty little lady,” he shrugged with good humor. “I say I’m a pretty little man.”

Nico scratched his chin. “Is that what those colors are for? The flag?”

“Blue, pink, white, pink, blue,” said Will with pride. “If that’s what you’re referring to, then yes. That’s the trans flag.”

“And.. the other word. The one you-”



Will smiled at his boyfriend happily. “You’re very open-minded for a guy in your 80′s.”

Nico rolled his eyes, but Will could see him smiling. “Just shut up and tell me what it means.”


aaaa hope you enjoy!! idk why it was so hard for me to keep tense through out this, i kept wanting to switch to present tense?? haha anyways, hopefully it’s alright! i’ll see if i can save it, edit and revise a bit, and then post on ao3 in its Final Form … thank you for sending the request!!! - mod will

anonymous asked:

Idk though... I was prepared to give Flocke a chance, but now he is openly criticising his superiors in a way that might threaten their position when all they really want to do is... I don't know? Save humanity and prevent more lives from being lost! Flocke simply doesn't understand what he is arguing... He does not even know Armin, so how on earth can he weigh his life over Erwin's? Anyway feel free to argue my points, he's entitled to feelings but his actions now are of no help to humanity.

Hi, thank you for telling me your thoughts. I’d still like to argue on Flocke’s side, though.

First I want to point out that the danger of threatening the position of superior officers had already passed…In comparison to EM, Flocke is being pretty level-headed here. I like that Flocke did all he could do for his views without resorting to insubordination.

It’s true that Flocke doesn’t know Armin. He doesn’t really know who Erwin is, either. This applies to all lives because no one knows better than the person’s close friends the value of the person. From a military perspective, however, it makes more sense to bring the experienced commander back rather than a new recruit.

Flocke has a clear view of his arguments and does so much to follow through with them—bringing Erwin’s 90kg body back, trying to talk sense into people, attempting to stop an angry Mikasa with her blades out, etc. His motto is to speak the truth. Flocke doesn’t hide that he initially wanted to kill Erwin. Sometimes honest single-perspectives speak out stronger than cold objective views (this would be just the military strategy). Flocke was revealing himself because he wanted EM to know that they weren’t the only ones feeling the pain, and that he too had to swallow up his emotions for what he thought was for the good of humanity. Although his speech in the end influenced Levi’s choice to let Erwin go, Flocke had chosen the logical path. If Levi wasn’t so devoted to Erwin, he would have looked at the facts and brought the commander back. Flocke had expected the captain to be reasonable. How could he have guessed the love Levi had for Erwin?

His assessments are definitely necessary to humanity in that he is trying to prevent the survey corps from becoming blind people who think they’re right all the time. EM obviously have eyes only for Armin and want to make it a fact that Armin is better than the Commander. Jean and Connie think that they are out of way of fire when Flocke points out that they had quietly let the insubordination happen. Flocke’s criticism on Levi is also just, and it’s what Levi had admitted himself—that he had chosen personal feelings over the good of humanity.

It’s true Flocke is also acting out of feelings—feelings of frustration that everyone is glossing over certain truths for their own comfort. Flocke’s view certainly isn’t the only truth, and he admits that. Other than when he speaks about the popular opinion of the people who read the report, Flocke labels what he says as a judgement of a single soldier. He is simply bringing in a different perspective on the characters. This is not just for the readers—Flocke is throwing (it felt more like sucker-punching haha) the comments at the faces of the characters themselves. With all the emotional clashes from the last expedition, I believe this is a required process for the characters to admit their mistakes and hopefully recover their sense of judgement.

I Don't Dream At All. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

They sit in silence. The sounds of the wind and nighttime bugs of Origae-6 can be heard. Thank God. The silent horror of the previous planet forever etched into her mind, the fact that their intended planet had a semblance of wildlife on it put her at ease immediately upon arrival.

Her nightmare now past, Daniels knows she has no reason to keep her face pressed into the soft cloth of Walter’s hoodie any further, but is loathe to look up or break this embrace for any reason. She knows her face is a mess and she is actively squashing the shame of having injured her friend so terribly in the wake of her nightmare.

But also, this is the first time in a long time that she has been held by someone; just held. The seconds stretch into minutes, but Daniels still feels like she is teetering on the precipice of falling back into a state of panic. Walter has been nothing but a steady presence, a rock in this storm to cling to, this whole time asking for nothing in return and what does he get for it? A fucked up hand.

Dani gives a spiteful flex of her right hand at the thought, forcing the sore, aching muscles to move, just to give herself a little of the pain back, she balls Walter’s hoodie in her hand so tightly her hand shakes, squeezing her eyes shut against the new wave of guilt and helplessness.

“Daniels,” Walter slides his still functioning hand around her torso on her back, now resting against the right side of her ribcage, embracing her fully. “Despite all instincts to the contrary, holding your breath while under emotional stress does not stem the tide.” He gives her side a gentle squeeze, “controlled breathing is the most effective way to diminish the acute emotional distress–”

Christ, Dani thinks and snorts against his neck. “Thank you Walter.” It’s muffled and slightly sarcastic, but she is grateful for the brief levity, even though it was unintentional.

With her ear against the skin of his neck, Daniels can feel the warmth his synthetic body produces and a steady thrum of energy too.

It made sense to Daniels that Walter would not be cold, he was a complex machine after all, and if her shitty laptop can get as hot as the surface of the sun after 5 minutes, Walter can certainly be warm too. But, whatever it was she was sensing inside of him that gave off that hum of energy was a surprise. One that she liked.

With a shuddering sigh, Daniels shifts in Walter’s embrace, still too mortified at her actions to look Walter in the eye, instead she rests her head against his chest and braves a glance down to his torn and broken appendage.

She immediately regrets it.

“Shit.” Lifting her head away from his chest, groaning, Daniels cradles his broken hand in her trembling ones, “Walter–” her chin shakes as her face begins to crumble at the sight.

“I believe Tennessee took stock of the damage while he was in here, and a cursory diagnostic of the area leaves me hopeful it can be corrected with relative ease.” Walter interrupted her before she let the sight of his hand send her into another meltdown.

“Why did you let me hurt you?” Dani looks into his face finally, her dark eyes demanding, “I shouldn’t have been able to do this to you.”

Walter responds without hesitation, “We have both been at the mercy of David’s violence; I know his strength and understand how he utilized that against you in direct violation of your autonomy. I didn’t think it wise to employ mine to stop or entirely restrain you while you were in such a vulnerable state, repeating David’s–his offense against you, especially since upon waking it was evident that you were still trapped in your dream.” A pause, “I didn’t want to cause you any more pain, or give you more reason to confuse me with him.”

“Is that how it’s done?” A whisper, as Daniels pulls in a sharp breath at the brief flash in her mind, his purring, accented voice disappearing as quickly as it appears, but not before she can stop herself reflexively retreating from Walter a few inches at the memory.

“Let me at least wrap your hand.” Daniels says, climbing out of the warmth of Walter’s embrace, trying to recover and give a quick reason for pulling away so suddenly, “You can’t get an infection, but it’ll be better to–to cover the injury. Until we can look at it properly in the morning.” Ducking her head, she begins to frantically dig through her first aid kit for an ace-bandage or wrap, but comes up empty. “I have like 10, where the fuck are they?”

Walter moves behind her, placing his hand on her upper back gently, not wanting to startle her, “Daniels.” She turns around to him, “It’s alright.”

“No, Walter it fucking isn’t ‘alright’, alright?” Putting her face into her hands, she takes in a deep breath and slowly releases it, “It’s not fair to you.” She looks up and takes in their proximity. He is kneeling closer to her than she thought he would be, his blue eyes bright and searching, but this time she holds her ground, refusing to let the ghost of her dreams make her do another shitty thing to her friend. “It’s not fair.”

Daniels has seen Walter curious, perplexed, determined, grateful, content, but she has never seen him this kind of concerned before, and as he is kneeling before her, cradling his broken and battered wrist to his chest, that is exactly the expression he wears on his handsome face–utter concern.

“Do you wish to talk about your nightmare?” Walter asks her gently.

Approaching the stone table, the shape of the creature morphs before Daniels’ eyes. Her heart stops and she feels her blood run cold.

“No.” the quickest response she has ever given. “Just, please, let me wrap your hand.”

Daniels sees a brief flash of something in Walter’s eyes as he studies her, categorizing her reactions. His expression doesn’t change entirely, but shifts into something like acceptance, “Okay.”

Daniels turns away from him, returning to the search in her kit for a wrap.

After a few moments, “Jake never let me treat his wounds.” This is the first time in a while that Daniels has brought up her late husband unprompted. “He always wanted them to scar, so he could have something to show for it… Sometimes I wonder if we would have still gone to that godforsaken place or not, if he were still alive.”

Not wanting to interrupt, Walter kept quiet.

Turning back to face him, bandage in hand, he holds out his left hand to her, watching her move, handling his hand with efficiency and care. “I am pretty sure we would have.” Surprised at that declaration, Walter lifts his gaze to hers.

“Had I not lost him in that fire, I am sure I would have on the surface. Not to speak ill of the dead, but Jake would have made the same dumb-ass call as Oram to check the planet out.” Finishing her wrap of Walter’s hand, pinning the lose ends in place, she takes in another deep breath and let’s it out slowly, her fingers resting gently on his.

“I am glad he died before we got there.” Daniels meets Walter’s eyes, “One less thing David got to take away from me.”

anonymous asked:

Hey, could you go the chocobros, cor, and ardyn(if you write for him of course) with a daughter who is a school idol in muse (like in love live (please don't judge me)) and them seeing her perform for the first time? Thank you, if you don't want to do this it is completely fine, thank you so much.

To be completely honest, I have no idea what ‘in love live’ is- except that it is a cute idol anime thingy! But, but, but! I am a huuuuuge kpop fan so I think I can scrounge up some short scenarios for ya! <3 Also, I want to be a versatile writer, so I’ll attempt to write anyone hahaha! Even… ARDYN *DUN DUN DUUUUUN* hehehehe


Tagging: @blindbae, @itshaejinju, @rubyphilomela, @lady-asuka, @joioliviapolaroid, @asendioncosplay and @stunninglyignis <3 <3 :D :D

Noctis: Noctis finds it a little odd that his princess wants to slave away in a cramped dance studio all day practicing dainty dance moves in front of a mirror. He can provide his baby girl with absolutely everything and anything her heart desires- there really is no need for her to pour blood, sweat and tears into something that wasn’t even necessary. Noctis found himself worrying when his daughter debuted with her girl group- ‘The Shiva Sisters’. She was bubbly and smiley and oh-so-kind on camera, but off camera she was serious, studious and absolutely dedicated to both her musical and performance arts as well as her role as the next her to the Lucian throne. Noctis can never forget the first time he witnesses his daughter and her bandmates perform live for the first time. He was utterly entranced by his little girl’s energy on stage, as well as her husky, melodic voice. She wasn’t group leader and lead singer for nothing after all. Noctis remembers scooping his daughter up into his arms and twirling her around playfully, still garbed in his kingly raiment after having come straight out of a council meeting to surprise his daughter at her first concert. He can’t forget how her face lit up and her midnight blue eyes teared up in sheer happiness at the sight of her father waiting for her proudly back stage.

“Dad… you came! I can’t believe you actually came!” Noctis’ daughter squeals. Noctis smiles against her sweaty shoulder and pulls her closer in a fatherly embrace.

“I’m here, aren’t I? You were… amazing. Simply the best.”

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I Don’t See What You See

A/N: An anon request for some Morcia. There aren’t enough Morcia pics out there. Thought they’re a BROTP for me, I totally get how people could see it as an OTP. This is one where Penelope struggles with body dysmorphia and Derek knows. He wants to confess how he’s felt about her, but he doesn’t want her to think that it’s solely to cheer her up. Little angsty, with fluffy ending. Enjoy! @coveofmemories


“Dammit,” she said softly, looking into the compact mirror and picking at her chin. Quickly, Penelope grabbed her coverup and went to contour the fuck out of her face. She had 18 double chins this morning and nothing seemed to want to help. It would help if I lost weight, she thought to herself. But here I am eating a breakfast sandwich yet again. Tears started to sting at the corners of her eyes as she thought about going home. Today was a really bad day and she didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Not even Morgan. Especially Morgan. 

He was everything she wasn’t, and every day she fought the idea that he could never actually love someone like her, not when he has women that looked like models practically worshipping the ground he walked on. 

“Hey, babygirl,” he said from the doorway, loving the way her blue hairpiece was playing off of her striking eyes. Yet again, she had her face in the mirror. He didn’t understand. She was his beautiful babygirl. Why did she always doubt herself?

Garcia spun around, snapping at him without wanting to. This is why I should just go home today. Here was the gorgeous, statuesque God of a man who actually wanted to be near her for some reason and all she could do was snap at him because every morning she looked in the mirror she hated herself. Correction, she hated what she saw. The rest of her was awesome, but even the greatest of everything else couldn’t overcome what she saw in the mirror. “Sorry,” she said, spinning back around for fear that he’d see her face half contoured. “I’ll be in the round table room in a few.” 

Derek sighed and left the room, once again leaving his words unspoken. For so long, he’d wanted to tell Garcia how much he loved her, was in love with her. He knew what she saw when she looked in the mirror. One night, when she’d had a few too many drinks, she’d confided in him how she felt, but he just couldn’t see it. Since then, every time he tried to go and tell her how he felt, he held back, fearing that she would see it as a way to make her feel better and not an actual confession. 

After Penelope came in to do the briefing, which she did with her usual pep and perkiness, her face immediately dropped back into the slump it was in before. “Babygirl,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to her lair. Enough was enough. He had to say something. He was about to burst inside, and whether or not she felt the same, he needed her to know that he didn’t see what he saw. “I’ve got some shit to say.”

Garcia really wasn’t in the mood right now. The team was going on the jet in a couple of hours. When they did, she’d take her laptop and work from home. That way she didn’t have to be seen by anybody. “What is it, Morgan? I’m so tired.” That was a lie; she just desperately didn’t want him looking at her right now. 

“I need you to know some things about me,” he said, grabbing her hands in both of his. “Things that I’ve felt for a long time. I love you-”

She knew that. She didn’t understand, but she knew that he loved her as one of his best friends in the entire world. “I know, Morgan,” she said before being cut off with a finger to her lip. 

“No, you think I love you as a friend, and I do, but I love you as so much more than that. I love you as the woman who always puts her friends before herself. The one who keeps us smiling even on our worst days. I love that despite how you see yourself, you still wear your heart on your sleeve,” he said. He was rambling - starting to sound like Pretty Boy. “I am in love with you, Penelope Garcia. I need you to know that. I have no idea if you feel the same way or not, but I needed to say it.”

“Why? And how do you know how I feel?” she asked softly. How could her best friend be in love with her when he could have his pick of any woman on the planet? Why her?

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. Even with a confession, she still didn’t get it. “You told me when you were drunk,” she laughed softly. God, seriously? How could I be so stupid? “And I’m in love with you because you’re you. I love everything about you, Penelope. The brain, the heart, the body - all of it. I don’t see you how you see yourself.”

The tears she’d cut back before boiled to the surface again. “Really?”

He nodded, bending forward slightly to kiss her forehead. “I am in love with all of you, Penelope Garcia.”

She didn’t get it. She wasn’t sure she ever would. “I love you, too, Morgan,” she said softly. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll ever be able to see what you see though.”

“Can we work on it? Together?” he asked, hearing Hotch down the hallway looking for him. “When we get back?”

She gave him a small nod and a gentle squeeze of the hand before he left. Turning back to her chair, she sat down and picked up the compact again to finish her contouring. This didn’t just stop because someone expressed an interest. She still didn’t understand how Derek could love her, but maybe, just maybe, she would stay in the office instead of going home. 

blue-eyed-fantom  asked:

I'm really into this new Drabble game! How about the feeling that first spark of affection with Jungkook?

I don’t understand what the spark feels like (but i’d feel it for you)

Genre: Fluff.

Words: 969.

I hope you like it!! Thank you for sending this in~ it was so cute :)

It comes unexpectedly.

The spark.

That obscure, indefinite concept you cannot even begin to understand. For you it had been nothing but a corny expression, used to extenuation in novels where the main characters—as if enlightened by a superior being—understand in the blink of an eye the feeling that has been making them act as idiots. It’s an overused concept, work away at the edges, incomprehensible—in your opinion, at least. It was almost as terrible as the butterfly metaphor. That, that was the worst.

What is the diagnosis for butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach? How is it supposed to feel? What are the symptoms? Do they fade away?

You need answers, because you have a test on Monday and you need to stop staring at him.

Could it be compared to nausea? The swirling in your stomach, the ways it twisted and pranced whenever he spoke, how your entire system seemed to be turned upside down whenever he sighed, or laughed or fucking sneezed. Was that… normal?

Could it be perhaps more similar to a panic attack? The constant pressure in your chest, the pit-a-pat at the back of your head, as the gears in your head tried to solve the puzzle of his existence, how had you been so lucky to have him as your friend. It could also be a headache, maybe you had not been wearing your classes enough. But you knew it was not a matter of wearing glasses or not, but the fact that you were trying to process the unfathomable, that you were thinking way too much about those feelings you could not understand, but that you were sure had been boiling deep inside you for a very, very long time—or, at least, for as long as you had known him.

Still, you don’t know how The Spark feels, but you’re surely feeling something, spark or not; and it’s new, and overwhelmingly warm and it somehow makes your body vibrate with his every breath. And you don’t like it, but you also like it very much.

In conclusion: you’re confused.  

“You look beautiful today.”

That has been the prompt for the confounding sensation that was the source of your every worry. Those simple four words, that had been muttered from under a fleecy scarf, that could barely hide the silly smile that invaded his face, the sudden warmth tingeing his cheeks with a pretty shade of pink, nor the unexpected galaxies shimmering in his eyes, which you didn’t remember to be so big, and round, and expressive.

What you can’t figure out, although you are trying, is why, why is Jungkook feeling so embarrassed. It’s not the first time he makes such a remark, but something feels different, and you can’t pinpoint what, maybe it’s the tenderness he impregnates every mellifluous note of his voice with, the way he pronounces ‘beautiful’, as if he would never be able to find a word that was enough to describe what he wanted to say.

There’s something different, indeed, and you love it.

However, it is then when it starts raining and Jungkook rushes to your side—with the sound of his high-pitched laugh enveloping you in a warm embrace; when he takes your hands and guides you away from the downpour and into the safety of a coffee shop; when he wipes the few droplets that have invaded your face and brushes his thumb along your cheek for just a bit longer that would be considered acceptable between to best friends when you understand that you don’t have to understand what’s going on. You don’t need to analyse that concept that has become more of a myth to refute it, you only need to close your eyes and follow whatever your stupid heart was asking you to do.

There was no spark glistening behind your eyelids when you closed your eyes, leaning against the hands that were so sweetly cupping your face, but still it shined. The no-spark was shining so damn bright you could have sworn your brain had just gone blind for a second.  

There was also no spark—and no rational thoughts, truth be told—when you leaned forward at the speed of lightning to place a peckover his lips, but, amidst the awkwardness and the nervous quivering, you could feel something that was not friendship. Friendship didn’t cover even half of it.

“What was that for?” Jungkook brought his fingers to his lips, where yours had just been.

“I… honestly, don’t know.”

I like you, I like you, I like you. The brain, especially yours, is very straightforward when it wants to, but the tongue doesn’t always follow.

“For someone who doesn’t know… you seemed pretty eager.”

“Jungkook shut up.”

As in cue, you smack his shoulder, but lightly, because all your strength is escaping slowly from your body, leaving you boneless and weak, and Jungkook smiling so wide is not helping you recover.


“Then I’ll do it again, and you’ll hate it.”

“Sure, bring it on. I’ll hate it so much I’ll have to torture you back.”

Maybe, and just maybe, you didn’t have to think that much, and just kiss Jungkook again.

And again.

And again.

“You can try, Jungkook, but I’m probably gonna win.”

“Never lost even once in nineteen springs.”

“Shut up.”

Against your stubborn rationality, you were starting to understand what the spark felt like. It was the sweetness of his lips over yours, and his hands on your waist. It was the faintest scent of petrichor lingering over his skin, when you nuzzled his neck. It was Jungkook, trying too hard not to smile too much, and you trying desperately not to melt in his arms.

It was corny, and it was naïve.

But god, it felt right.

“Firsts” Drabble Game

anonymous asked:

Can you just maybe write like a continuation of the Band AU. Like maybe Tommy meeting Trinis mom and stuff and maybe fluff between the girls

On Trini’s mom, Tommy Is a Girl’s Name, Kim trying to be the favorite, and Zack’s attempt to summarize it all in song form:

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I know.”

“Really, it’s not.”


“So the pouting is… you being totally okay with it?”

Keep reading

Don’t Forget About Me - Chapter 2

Fandom: Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

Pairing: Simon Snow and Basilton Pitch

Summary: AU where Simon and Baz already had a thing before Carry On, but someone changed their memories and made them forget.

Wordcount: 2550

Warnings: freezing in the cold, almost dying, somebody collapsing, needing to go the imfirmary. Maybe swearing???

Genre: mostly angst, a little bit fluff (Well no not really they are thinking about fluff?)

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter 1 | chapter 2


The sunlight peeking through the window is what wakes me up. I groan and turn my back to the source of the light, burying my head in my pillow. I shut my eyes closer, trying to glide back to sleep. But no matter how hard I try, I feel myself waking up. The calming blanket of sleep leaves me and memories of last night come back to me in flashes. The forest, Penelope’s death, Agatha’s corpse, baz’s arms…

Baz’s arms.

I’m not sure whether I dreamt that. I’m pretty sure Baz woke me up, but I’m uncertain about the… cuddling. It’s not like Baz to wake me up from a nightmare, and it’s definitely not like him to hug me and hold me until I fall asleep. It’s not like him to put his chin on my head and rock me back and forth. To stroke my hair softly, to brush the curls out of my face.

I shake my head, trying to throw out these weird thoughts. I yawn, sit up and stretch my arms. I rub my eyes and when I open them I see Baz staring at me, one eyebrow lifted. I blink sleepily, feeling the heat rise to my head. What if it hadn’t been a dream? Baz would mention it, would he? Would it change something?

“You look disgusting.” Baz stated. With those words he walks out of our room, leaving me confused in my bed.

I let myself fall back onto my bed and sigh. I guess it was just a dream, then. But why would I dream something like that? I mean… Baz is my enemy. My nemesis. We will have to fight each other eventually - one of us will have to kill the other. It’s not really the best idea to think so fond of the other.

I rub my hands over my face and take a deep breath. My body is still tired from the nightmare, but my mind is racing. For a moment, I consider staying in bed, since it’s Saturday and I don’t have to go to classes, but then I decide to take a walk to clear my thoughts.

To stop myself from thinking about a certain boy with silk black hair and grey eyes.

Keep reading


Title: Maybe
Fandom: Shameless, Mickey/Ian
Rating: PG
Summary: I don’t fucking know. This just happened. It’s a continuation of the scene in 4x05 where Lip asks Mickey if he’s heard from Ian.

Lip’s not sure, really, what possesses him to turn back toward Mickey. He shouldn’t care, really, but something about the way Mickey had backed down so quickly and revealed his concern for Ian had gotten under Lip’s skin, and it makes Lip want to reassure him.

“You know, Mickey, I won’t tell anyone,” Lip insists. “I know you’re terrified of the world finding out, but you don’t have to worry about that with me.”

Keep reading

nerdywitchbun  asked:

You're one of the few people that don't hate Chris... that's pretty great, because I thought I was the only one who actually liked him. I like him, but I just can't explain the reason why. Would you mind explaining why do you like him?

Sorry for the late response. I kind of had to think a little about this one. Keep in mind that I am speaking purely from the Japanese dub of Sonic X, here. The English dub doesn’t count, as far as I look at it.

Contrary to what some may think, I like Chris because he can do wrong- but at same time he still doesn’t fall into the exaggerated stereotypes you normally see from child characters in fiction. He does not fall into either far extreme, Sweet Wittle Innocent Cinnamon Who Can Do Wrong Vs. Nasty Spoiled Demon Child With No Remorse For Others, ends of the spectrum. He falls in the middle of them, if anything. As far as child and Sonic characters, he is one of the more realistically, and dare I say complex, written ones. He acts more like an actual child his age likely would, if they met what we’re basically technicolor talking alien furries, poor, middle class, or rich.

He could be selfish, and not immediately realize what he already has- but at the same time, his more questionable actions we’re never done out of any premeditated malice, and seeing how his parents seem to act more like Chris was more their friend than their child, his feelings that drove him to ‘said questionable acts are understandable. He was just a kid who kept everything bottled up to himself, it built up over time with little to no outlet, and it all eventually blew up once the time came for Sonic and his friends to go back to their world- his parents not helping matters when their kid was clearly in denial about the reality of Sonic having to leave forever.

But you know what? At the end of the day, Chris is actually very selfless! He’s willing to put himself in harm’s way to help Sonic and the others, or even try to protect his friends. Even though he knows when things are out of his league.

Then there’s the very fact that he was willing to potentially to get himself in trouble with the government at the very beginning of Sonic X, by sheltering Sonic and his friends by letting them live with him. He could have just kicked them all out and not have it be his problem. But he didn’t.

He’s someone who actually beats himself up when he realizes he fucked up, even when he doesn’t even have to but he does anyway. He clearly respects other people’s personal space and needs. But sometimes it’s really hard and strong emotions for one’s own needs eventually overrode it when he couldn’t keeping things pent up anymore and against his better. But he’s still quick to try and correct his mistakes and do the right thing, even if it’s at his own expense.

He wasn’t a bad kid, or just a bad person, at all. Just a flawed, not perfect, one.

Also, looking at it now, I think having Chris revert back to his child body in the third season was actually kind of clever- even if unintentionally. As far as I see it, doing so makes it easier to see how Chris had changed and grown, emotionally and mentally, since then. As the the bias of seeing someone who’s physically older wouldn’t really be present, it makes it easier to focus on the change in how he behaves and handle things, instead of just a physical change.

I also think it’s actually a good message in that you don’t need to be physically strong, or have some special super ability or power, to still be able to help or assist others: Being resourceful or intelligent is just as, and maybe even more, useful.(And seriously let’s face it, it really would not have made a difference if Chris even stayed in his adult body. They were up against a bunch of pissed off trees in near indestructible armor. Sonic and his strongest friends/allies were barely hold them, and even then they needed outside assistance. Fucking nukes weren’t even enough for them!)

Honestly, as far as Sonic characters go, Chris is actually a fairly complex and realistically written character.

“I swear to god, he texts me one more time, and I’m going to curse him through his phone.” 

Evie looked at her friend in sympathy; god knows she’s been in that situation before. As Mal inwardly screams when her phone pings! once again, Evie shuts her book with a loud clap. 

“Tell me again why you broke up with him?” Evie says, “Because I think you’re crazy. Giving up a prince, imagine.” 

Keep reading

Don't Get Skinny, Okay?

It’s the usual family gathering for Christmas. Tons of food, opened presents, happy kids, and drinks. However, you noticed that Mark seemed different. The times you wanted to hang out with your favorite cousin before the holidays decreased. He was either sick, busy, or the combination of the two. But you still look forward to seeing him today, he has no excuse now.
The doorbell ring and you little nephew went to answer the door.
Standing there was a rather large, rounded human figure, belly hanging out of the black shirt a little. Arms are laying perfectly on the sides of the body, sticking out in the visual of a triangle.
“Marky!” Your nephew said while running to the figure and squishing his head on the soft, gluttonous belly.
Mark got
Like, SUPER fat.
Heather always had a crush on him for years, but of course they were cousins. But now this is different.
Still, she isn’t disgusted by it for some reason.
After Mark greeted everyone he then came to Heather on the couch.
He sat down, causing ripples to send through his belly and Heather lightweight body to go up on the couch a little.
Mark used to be just as little as her.
Question is, what happened?
“Hey heather!” Mark greeted while hugging Heather. Caught her off guard, her face sucked in between what she felt was moobs, while the rest of her body sucked into his huge gut.
“Uh, hey Mark” she finally answered.
After a long conversation, Heather still couldn’t understand why he is so fat.
Since nobody was around them, she had to ask. She had no choice.
“Mark, um why did you- well, how did you get so-”
“Big? That’s what you mean, right?”
She nodded.
“Well,” Mark exclaimed, “it’s pretty obvious I know but…I’m comfortable with it. I mean, think of all the healthy shit we used to eat. Get punished in a way when we are a burger , or fries, or fried chicken or something you know? Well, I just started to give in and the aftermath is …so cool. Heather, I’m just basically a comfy ass pillow.”
Heather giggled. He always wanted to be the jokester.
“You wanna test it out yourself?” Mark insisted and moved his arm from resting on his belly.
“Whatever,” Heather said while laying her head on his enormous gut.
It was…soft. And comfy. She moved her position so she was sideways, back facing the couch. She laid one of her hands on his belly, which caused him to shiver a little.
“Sorry, nobody else touched me but you so far,” mark said while letting Heather feel his belly. She liked it, or did she? It was so weird. Suddenly his belly growled.
“Um, mark, we- didn’t we just eat?” She asked.
“Yeah, um, I have a bigger appetite now tho. I guess you can call me a grizzly bear.”
She giggled. They are soft and big.

Later, during the Christmas dinner, Heather was sitting next to mark at the table eating ham, green beans, yams, mac and cheese, the works. Heather noticed marks plate was at least twice the amount of hers. Nevertheless he was eating it all. Heather got…hot. She was wearing a sweater, though. Mark was breathing heavily in and out, forcing one bite to the next. However, Heather noticed he was wearing a belt. A belt that looked if it was going to burst. Without anyone looking, she tapped mark on the arm and whispered in his ear: “do u want me to unbuckle your belt?”
Mark face got beet red, but then he nodded.
Heather then reached under his huge gut, which took some effort, and unbuckled it. The force of his belly pushed out…or was it his belly? It was fat, but she didn’t know what it was.
Afterwards, Heather and mark went back to heathers room.
She left for a moment and came back with some sweatpants.
Mark looked confused.
“I , Um, I think you need this. Your , your belt is um too tight now.”
“Ain’t that the truth? Thanks,” he said while switching his pants in front of her.
Heather really couldn’t closed her eyes it was too late. But once he took his pants off , she noticed another..blob of fat under his belly. Was that..?
“OH, I’m, yeah that’s what u probably felt. My bad by the way.”
“Can I feel- I mean, what is tha-”
“Yeah, u can feel it, I don’t care,” he insisted while grabbing heathers arm with his chubby hands.
Then he placed her hands on his fat pad.
“Wow, you are …fat. But- OH, wow I can barely see your-” Heather instantly turned red.
“Haha, yeah that’s what the pad does once you become a fatty like me.”
Heather’s hand slipped down to his tip by accident, causing his dick to get hard.
“Mark, oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”
“Heather, jeez, come on we used to like each other. I mean we can’t date but you can feel on me. I don’t mind.”
Mark inched a little closer to Heather, while taking his tight black shirt off. His belly and his tip touched Heather.
“Actually, I want you…to feel on me.”
She gave in, she stroked his dick under his padding, while mark reaches in for a hard kiss. They both grunted and groan, while mark lead Heather to her bed. Him being on the bottom, all of his fat seemed to spill on her bed. She was loving it, she threw off her sweater and jeans and hopped on marks body, causing his whole body to shake. She kissed all over his belly and moons, causing him to moan. What got over her, nobody knows. She know it’s wrong to be fat, but she love marks body …more than ever.
Mark reached in for a harder kiss while placing his chubby fingers inside her. Considering the fact one fat finger of his seems like two fingers to her, Heather was enjoying the moment of her life. She groaned , begging for relief once he put two fingers inside. Mark loved the sound of her cum moving back and forth inside, so he continued it while sucking on her nipples.
“I wanted you for the longest,” mark moaned out while kissing all over her.
“I want you now. Don’t, don’t get skinny, ok?”
“Trust me, i won’t” mark whispered while placing her body on top of his. She tried to find his dick so she could get ready for the best sex she ever had in her life.

Scandal Inspired Sentence Starters
  • "Tell it to me straight. What do you want?"
  • "I was willing to give it all up for you."
  • "You didn't save me. I'm on my own."
  • "I was pretty sure somebody hacked you into pieces and burned your body. I'm really glad that's not true."
  • "You are precious to me. Do you understand?"
  • "You can take your flowers and daisies and your hope, and you can choke on it!"
  • "The question isn't what I want. It's what you want."
  • "Do you hear me? No one is going to help you."
  • "I'm fine dancing alone."
  • "It is your life that is sad. It is you who cannot be normal. It is you who has no comprehension of love."
  • "You only know how to lie and call it love."
  • "You're not leaving. You were never leaving. You can never leave me alone because you have no place to go."
  • "Say the word. We will pack up and leave all of this behind."
  • "You could write a book. Sell it to Hollywood."
  • "Ironic, isn't it? It's always the ones closest to us, the ones who say they care. They're the ones who do the most damage."
  • "You can cry if you want to."
  • "We both know in the end you're not going to choose me."
  • "You are poison. And everyone who touches you pays the price."
  • "We have to stop doing this to each other."
  • "I just wanted you to be happy. That's all I ever wanted."
  • "I'm going to hug you now. Don't tell me not to. You're going to stand here and take it."
  • "After everything I just needed to be alone."
  • "You make me feel...small."
  • "I yelled at you. I owe you an apology for that."
  • "You ever get lonely? I'm freaking lonely."
  • "Call me later if you want me to do that thing to you."
  • "Somehow everything is different. Everything is...colder."
  • "You're not even a little concerned?"
  • "Don't you think you owe me at least this much?"
  • "I am now broken. I'm not me. I'm forever changed."
  • "You make me angry, you make me mad. I want to kill you and have sex with you at the same time."
  • "I can never trust my gut when it comes to you."
  • "I have looked at it from every angle, and I have hoped and prayed that I was wrong."
  • "How did we get like this? When did we stop being people?"
  • "Try and protect your soul if you still have one."
  • "I am going to marry you. We are going to have babies. Two babies, I think."
  • "Tell me you felt it, too. Tell me I'm not crazy."
  • "But then a moment like this comes around and it makes me feel like it's all worth it."
  • "I asked you to save me, and you said no."
  • "You don't tell me to do anything, because I'm not your bitch."
  • "Can you just — I don't know — be nice to me for a minute?"
  • "You should've never given me someone to love."
  • "Girls like to be kissed first, right? Romance them a little before you dive right into their pants."
  • "You think you don't have a weakness. But you do. Me."
  • "Don't patronize me like I'm some hysterical teenage girl at the beginning of my cycle."
  • "You've been coddled and cared for, pampered and hugged. For you, it's always summertime and the living's easy."
  • "It hurts until it doesn't. You think it's going to break you, but it won't. You will be fine."
  • "What's that stupid thing the kids are saying? YOLO?"
  • "You're just a bundle of dirty little secrets."
  • "I'd say this is a new low."

The worst part, Gai laments to Kakashi three weeks after the war ends, isn’t the loss of mobility. It’s the loss of vision.

Kakashi, naturally, doesn’t ask Gai to elaborate on that. Gai, naturally, does so anyway.

“As a shinobi, you spend so much of your time on rooftops, in trees, on the backs of Summons,” Konoha’s ex-Green Beast reflects mournfully from his hospital bed, staring off into the distance like some old sage. “You get used to seeing the world spread out for you, seeing every aspect. Like this, however—” Gai looks morosely down at his hands, curled tight in his lap, “you see only a Speck.”

Kakashi heaves a long sigh, and with great effort, drags his eyes up from his book, which he’s been looking forward to finishing for weeks now.

“Gai, I’m here so you don’t drive the nurses crazy with your regretful monologuing, not so you can annoy me with it.”

Gai turns to him with impossibly big, liquid eyes. “You understand, of course, Kakashi,” he says, lips trembling. “How small the world seems, now that you no longer have the Sharingan?”

Ah, shit, Kakashi thinks. He’s never going to finish his book at this rate.

With many regrets, the least of which involving his decision to spend the night babysitting a stir-crazy manchild, Kakashi sets the book down on the table beside Gai’s hospital bed and stands, holding out his arms impatiently.

Gai’s eyebrows furrow. “My Eternal Rival?”

“If being on rooftops again is what it takes to shut you up, then being on rooftops is what we’re gonna have to do,” Kakashi tells him.

To be honest, by this point he should probably be used to the feeling of holding Gai in his arms, and vice versa. The lives they’ve lived have the inevitable side effect of gross injury, of the tight grip of fear around your heart, of holding your dying friend’s hand in yours and whispering ’no, no, no,’ as the blood spreads and spreads under your palms like it’ll never stop. And it’s not like the feeling of Gai next to his chest is unfamiliar; not like his body being limp and deadweight is anything new.

Except Gai’s eyes are open, and he still can’t move.

Kakashi carries Gai up to the hospital roof, and leaps on top of the tallest water tower with the hunkering ex-ninja clinging to his arms. It’s a good thing the hospital food tastes like dead things, because Kakashi’s lost some muscle mass from his own extended hospital “visit” and Gai isn’t exactly a ballerina. He sets Gai down on the expansive lid and drops down next to him, swinging his legs to dangle over the edge.

“So?” he asks after a minute. “Any better?”

Gai is quiet. The silence stretches between them, a black and growing thing. “It’s dark,” he murmurs at last. “I can’t see.”

“Gai, it’s ten at night, what did you expect?”

“People,” Gai breathes, and suddenly his head jerks down and his eyes squeeze shut tight, and a flash of memory runs warm under Kakashi’s ribs.

The words that burst past Kakashi’s lips without volition are echoes of an answer long past: “Gai, I challenge you.”

Gai’s head whips up in utter shock. “You what?

Kakashi’s mouth quirks. “You heard me. I’m challenging you. I’m one ahead, right? This is your chance for sweet revenge.”

Gai is at a loss for words for a few seconds. “Why?“ he manages finally.

Kakashi shrugs. "Because you would do the same for me,” he says, and the way Gai startles lets him know his friend is remembering, too; remembering dead teammates and worried comrades and senseis too afraid to even touch for fear of breaking. Remembers a loud, booming voice, fearless in its intensity, the sound shattering and healing all at once. Remembers the first challenge, and the last challenge, and how Gai somehow always manages hold Kakashi together, even in the midst of ripping apart every mask Kakashi has ever owned.

“It's—it’s your turn to pick,” Gai stammers, choosing, apparently, to roll with it. Kakashi’s eyes arch in a grin.

“Well, racing’s out,” he pretends to muse. “Taijutsu, too. Eating contest would throw off your medications. I guess there’s always Jan-ken—”

No,” Gai cuts in quickly. Kakashi has to swallow a laugh.

“Fine. I choose the only thing that’s left, then: arm-wrestling.”

Secretly, Kakashi has kept a pretty good count on their running rivalry. Out of 172 challenges, arm-wrestling has been featured in twenty-one of them. He can see Gai waver a little; then, reluctantly come to the conclusion that, like so many other aspects of his life, their challenges will also be severely limited from now on. He nods, and holds out his hand.

Kakashi grips it solidly. “Ready?”

Gai hesitates. “Kakashi, please don't…” but his voice trails off and he doesn’t finish the sentence. Kakashi doesn’t press. He tightens his grip on Gai’s hand. “Ready,” rumbles the deep voice, composed once more.

“Alright,” Kakashi says. “On the count of three: one, two… three!”

Bam! Gai slams Kakashi’s hand to the concrete with blistering force. The pain thuds through Kakashi’s skin, and the thin membranes on his knuckles begin to bruise almost instantly. Kakashi lets out a shaky little laugh.

“Haa, that was fast! Looks like you win, Gai. Good work. I guess we’re tied again.”

Gai is silent for a long moment. Kakashi narrows his eyes, concerned.


“Kakashi…” There’s a thin prickle of rage seeping out from the creases in Gai’s face, and underneath that, a raw, wounded hurt. “I thought you had more respect for me! To let me win, as though I’m a child to be—” He attempts to rip his hand from Kakashi’s grasp; freezes when it abruptly becomes clear that he can’t.

Kakashi looks up at the sky, their fingers still neatly intertwined. “Maa, the stars sure look nice tonight,” he says wistfully. A look of muted horror comes into Gai’s eyes as the realization slowly dawns.


“No moon, though. But I think that makes the stars seem brighter, don’t you? Ever wonder how many there are out there?”

Gai tries futilely, desperately to remove his hand from Kakashi’s. “My Rival! No!”

“I wonder if we could count them. Maybe that should be our next challenge, now that we’re tied. Hey, look, a shooting star! Beautiful, isn’t it, Gai?”


Kakashi grins beneath the mask, and holds Gai’s hand a little tighter.

Above their heads, the stars grow endless.


Mending Fists | ao3 |