#i went through all stages of grief during that shower

[priestfrommidnightmass]

when the long shower starts to feel like texting the guy i was in love with when i was 15

#i went through all stages of grief during that shower #i thought through it all and i will not be doing it #not because i don’t want to talk to him because i would like to apologize #but right now i think i might not have been doing it for the right reasons… #my life is pretty fine right now and sometimes when i lack toxicity or obsession i can just create it. so #i worked that one out

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Whomst Reviews: Ghost Doctor

(For those of you Kdrama Tumblrites who haven’t seen this masterpiece yet)

So you know how you watched an episode of Gray’s Anatomy and thought, this would be better if it was gayer and had more ghosts?

Have I got the show for YOU

Episode 1 Recap:

Once upon a time, there was a grumpy introvert heart surgeon named Cha Youngmin. He’s out here in his fancy little suits existing day to day for his work, being That Bitch to everyone to avoid feeling things, just him and his sugar glider son Man Du against the world.

Enter: one (1) naive but pure-hearted rich boy twink named Go Seungtak who loves drinking fancy coffee, showering people with gifts, taking naps, and avoiding real responsibility due to trauma-related anxiety and depression issues (so this is my drama debut tbh)

Necessarily, they clash! Bc Seungtak is the hospital foundation heir, his grandfather has decided that in order to manage the hospital, Seungtak should become a surgeon instead of using his MBA to manage things (not quite following the logic here but sure), and Youngmin, as an esteemed (if disliked) surgeon and all-around girlboss, does Not Like That.

Seungtak immediately falls in love becomes fascinated with Youngmin’s personality and impressed by his skills, and follows him around like the puppy-brained little shit he is. 

Unfortunately, as Youngmin simultaneously decides to make “tormenting Seungtak” his whole personality, this leads to a sad Puppy being first humiliated during a surgery then exiled to ER work. Mondays, bro. 

It’s the first warning we see that Youngmin can allow his emotions to sway his judgment (you know, that thing he bitches at everyone about doing? yeah), because:

1.) he let a first-year resident help with an operation on his first day at work,

2.) he immediately jumps to conclusions and publicly berates that resident for failures instead of assessing what went wrong, and

3.) he’s assigned as Seungtak’s mentor but jettisons him asap the next day after Seungtak witnesses him arguing with his ex (more on her in a sec)

It’s hard to say what would have become of the pair if not for a series of unfortunate and premeditated events brought to us by Hospital Mean Girl Han Seungwon and Corporate Asshat Jang Minho, and liberally edited by Bitch-Ass-Liar An Taehyeon. 

The grandpa-style chairman of a corporation thingy goes in for surgery that Youngmin is initially reluctant to try, as it has a low chance of success and would not give him much more time. We see multiple times that Youngmin will give up on a risky patient rather than spend extra money for what he assumes/judges to be futile efforts. However! Then his ex SeJin shows up, and surprise she’s the daughter of said chairman, who left Korea and now works in Seattle as a neurosurgeon at Seattle Grace Hospital

Having researched her dad’s condition, she doesn’t want Youngmin to do the surgery either; so naturally, Youngmin decides to do the surgery. 

This is ultimately what sets everything else into motion. The chairman’s surgery is an initial success, but then Youngmin gets a text from SeJin and leaves his resting  patient behind (we are told that a surgeon is supposed to stay and monitor the patient until they wake up).

Next thing we know, Youngmin has been in an accident:( and he’s having an out of body experience. We are talking full Patrick Swayze here. He gets rushed to his own hospital.

Who’s available in the ER to assess the patient? Yep, Youngmin’s played himself here, because Seungtak is on duty. Ghost Youngmin screams a lot at people who can’t hear him, realizes that he can’t touch anything in the physical world and thus can’t save himself with his ghost body, and cycles through stages of grief like he’s doing the Tour de France. Oops. 

After assessment, Seungtak takes him to the ER so some surgeon can perform a cardiac tamponade surgery—except the surgeons aren’t answering their phones. Like, none of them. What the hell is going on in this hospital??

So then our brave little toaster Takkie decides to pick up the scalpel himself, despite being visibly panicked. Youngmin, an eternal micromanager, automatically reaches to correct Seungtak’s grip and possesses him instead. 

We end the episode with Youngmin doing surgery on himself??

#whomst #tvn ghost doctor #whomst reviews

[homo-rashi]

Roommates (Original Work) Ch 2.

Caught (contains Omorashi)

Read it on my Ao3 here: Link

August knew he had to move fast. The average laundry cycle for something like bedding if he wanted them to be completely dry he estimated would take around 45-ish minutes. Less time maybe if he decided to make up two dryers to speed things up.

Having absolutely nothing to go on time wise for how long dinner or any meal took at this school, August was in full blown panic mode. He first stripped out of his wet clothes, wrapping them up inside of his dirty sheets. He quickly took one of his face towels from his toiletries stash and poured out some of his leftover water from his hydro flask and quickly washed off his legs and crotch before lipping on his loosest and most comfy pajamas. He deemed himself clean enough to leave his room, but not before sliding on his shower sandals and grabbing his shower caddy.

He managed to get out the door with his bedding folded up as neatly as time allowed, with most of the wetness concealed incase he passed by anyone within ten minutes. Thankfully, He remembers the way to the laundry room without getting lost. He picks the first machine he sees and shoves his sheet inside, clothes and all. There is no time to separate colors from whites. He is just glad he wore light gray boxers instead of his favorite red ones because his sheets being stained pink suddenly would be a dead giveaway.

He closed the washer and went to press the button to start it when he realized the machine did not start. At first he panicked that maybe the washing machines aren't working when school isn't in season, but he quickly realized that was nonsense, especially when he took three seconds to look at the small black lettering decaled onto the machine.

‘Tap student card to add funds’ He read it over half a dozen times hoping he misread it because, what in the name of god is a student card? August looked around frantically, hoping this laundry room was like a peter piper pizza and there would be a little machine he could shove cash into that would in turn spit out an illusive student card, but alas he only found more machines, all of which have the same decal.

In his frantic search he did notice that all of the dryers seem to be free, no scary black lettering in sight. He stood there for a moment contemplating it…If he dried his sheet they would probably still smell… He did drink a lot, and is always fairly hydrated so it's not like the sheets are stained, just wet. He could simply wash them tomorrow and deal with the slight smell by burning one of his aunts incense tonight. It would certainly give him enough time to actually, properly shower himself…

He makes the decision, grabbing his wet things from the washing machine and chucking them into the closest dryer. He could have thanked jesus himself when the dryer kicked on upon pressing the button. He paused for a second, thinking about the seven stages of grief he just went through.

“Everything okay here?” He jumps, actually jumps in the air at the high-pitched voice echoing in the white and green tiled room.

“F-fine! I'm fine, I mean yeah everythings fine, Just doing some laundry!” August turns around and is met with a familiar face, yet looking a lot more confused than before.

“Oh, August right? I was worried it was one of my kids attempting to use a washing machine for the first time.” Rowen walks in and leans against one of the washers, seemingly looking around at all of them, “um, August…How did you do laundry without a student card? I mean, you have one, it's just your ID that should have been given to you with your Uniform, but you can't load money on it during the weekends, not during summer at least.”

August looks down at the washers then back up at the dryer, thinking on hit feet, but this time taking a second to actually think out his lie, unlike before with the whole jetlag debacle,

“I'm just using the dryer! You know, fluffing my clothes and stuff before I put them away. They got so wrinkled.” August thinks he sounded convincing. Rowan just smiles at him in return, looking between August and the Shower caddy he is still clutching in his left hand.

“Oh okay! Do you want me to keep watch while you shower? It looks like you came prepared this time.” Rowan laughs, August looks between him and the Dryer, He really does want to shower, and if Rowan says things need to be watched, does that mean people steal from the dryers at this school? August cringes at the thought of someone opening the dryer and smells the warmed up piss smell he doubts the random old dryer sheet he saw inside and didn't remove before throwing his things in helped much.

“Shouldn't you be at dinner?” August asks, because genuinely the reason he was so spooked is because Max made it seem like if you miss a meal here, you go hungry.

“RA privileges, we get to take it to-go because you know we have duties to attend to… but In my case i just wanted to watch the new season of Queer Eye on the big common room TV while nobody is around to request we watch something else. Really it's fine, go shower.”

“If you wouldn't mind then, I promise I'll be quick!” August takes his leave, feeling so much better knowing it wasn't really putting Rowan off to have to do so. August feels a weird sense of relief, knowing for sure that not everyone at this place is as homophobic as his roommate. Nobody who is homophobic watched past the first season of the Queer Eye reboot.

The showers are big, Thankfully. There are alot of stalls, August goes for one at the farthest end of the showers, just in case someone comes in. He is more than eager to wash off. The wash cloth helped but nothing gets you really clean until you can use soap and running hot water.

August steps into the shower and turns it on. The hot waters hit him and before he can ever start scrubbing himself, he is peeing. He does his best to aim it down the drain just in case someone sees the water being slightly yellow under the stall door. Out of all his issues, this one is the most non-issue and also, completely not caused by his anxiety.

Water makes him involuntarily pee. It's been this way ever since he was a baby. When his mom was potty training him apparently, He was having trouble relaxing and letting go…Similarly to his other issues. His mom didn't know it was anything to do with being shy. She just thought it was because August didn't know how to pee properly yet, So she would let him sit his hand in warm-ish water until he let go.

The irony of later finding out that his mom did in fact pavlov doghim into having this issue was not something he wasn't happy about, but in comparison to pissing the bed and everything else wrong with him, This was easy. Sure he wasn't allowed in public swimming pools, at least ones where people knew about his problem and showering with other people will always be awkward, but everyone pees in the shower and the pool and the ocean so it could be worse. He has only accidentally triggered this particular issue two times outside of being submerged in water.

The first time was in science class in 7th grade. They had been working with some sort of chemical that kids probably shouldn't have been, but in the name of education, it was allowed. August has a best friend at that time. He was a foreign exchange kid from South Korea. Didn't speak a word of english, but they both had Diary of a Wimpy kid folders and bonded over that.

When August accidentally got some of the chemical on his hands, the teached forced him to sit at the hand wash station and flush the stinging part of his hand for ten minutes…It only took about two minutes for him to start peeing. Thankfully, Pyeong noticed and thought fast, promptly shoving August into the chemical shower and pulling the rope to activate it. The initaly got in trouble because August couldn't think of an excuse (lie) as to why Pyeong did it. But once someone got there who could translate for the kid, He was told that Pyeong noticed some of it got on August jeans and thought he needed to act fast.

The second time it happened, August didn't have Pyeong to save him. It was last year. Freshman year. An awkward time for everyone, Specifically, Highscoolers who are forced to take swim in replacement of regular gym. At this point, August has successfully hid the fact that he still struggled with this particular issue from his parents. It was that hard really, they didnt often pay attention to him when they would go to the ocean and he was too old to shower with them, obviously.

He figured it would be a bit of an issue at the pool, but also figured he wouldn’t be the only person peeing in the pool… He was wrong. Five minutes into his first swim session and the water around his person clouded up to be a deep shade of blue. He also learned that that supposed ‘fake chemical’ everyone on line swears is an old wives tale, is very much real, and very much was in his school pool.

He got scolded of course. He swore it was a one time thing and was let off the hook relatively easily. But then it kept happening. He would pee before he got into the pool, but once his bladder filled even a little, the water would make him release, surrounding him with the humiliating and incriminating cloud of blue. After the third time, He was in big trouble.

They actually threatened to expel him on grounds of purposely endangering his classmates, to which he caved and told them the truth. They didn't believe him, of course but once he called his mom and also came clean to her. She cleared things up and even had proof that a doctor once told them it was an ‘uncontrollable physiological response.’ August ended up getting off scot-free, except his file now had a section about how he shouldn't be allowed to bodies of water….A minimal punishment for apparently pissing on his entire class multiple times.

August scrubs away, letting the steam of the shower take away all of his problems. He washes his hair while he is at it. With how sweaty today got him he is glad he has the extra time to do it. Thirty minutes later and he feels like a new man. Feeling like he got away with the weirdest thing he has ever had to do, He dries off and gets re-dressed, making his way back to the laundry room.

The calm coolness the shower provided him with completely melts away when he walks into the laundry room to see Rowan, holding up his jeans from the dryer and inspecting them.

“What are you doing?” He asks, Calmly, as calmly as he can.

“Aren't these the jeans you were wearing earlier?” August can’t deny it, so he just shrugs, “And why fluff your bedding, it's just gonna get wrinkle-” Rowan sticks a hand into the dryer and pulls out one of the sheets, The rubber, waterproof sheet and freezes.

“They were stuffy too, probably sat on that only mattress for the entire summer till I got here, not if you will excuse me!” August grabs the sheet from their hands, not bothering to fold it. The second it's in his arms, he smells it, It's worse than before. A burt, ammonia smell that very distinctly is human pee. He looks up at Rowan, whose expression has softened,

“Hey, you can use my student card to wash these properly…It's really okay, It happens-”

“No! I mean,it's fine! They weren't that stuffy, I can just wash them properly with my own money tomorrow, Thanks though.” August ducks past them, grabbing his remaining items out of the machine and pretty much darting out there. August doesnt look back because Rowan knows. He knows that August pissed the bed. He knows that he planned on just sleeping in dried hot piss sheets and offered to help, and August kept lying and ran off like an idiot.

He should have taken up their offer, lied to Max instead, saying he spilled a drink or lotion on his sheets or something and then just hidden the rubber sheet in the wardrobe, resigning him to a night of no sleep so he did not piss the mattress but no. He didn't do that, he ran away leaving any chance of him not being a social outcast at this school up to some guy he met four hours ago.

He makes his bed in record time, the whole while realizing that its smells and its bad. He panics, thinking Max would be back any second. He frantically lights a the bundle of incense his Aunt got him, Shoving the ends of all the sticking into one of Max’s empty cans, figuring he could just say he didn't know it wasn't alloseed if Max gets mad, but he has a feeling he's not the type to care about a dumb candle rule.

The lavender scent is strong. It fills up the whole room in an instant, hiding any and all piss smell. August lies back on his bed to make sure its not noticeable. If he shoves his face directly into his sheets, its there, but Max would not be doing that, so he felt content with his job. He closed his eyes, finally feeling like he could relax.

* * *

August’s eyes shoot open to the loud sound of screeching and flashing lights filling the now dark room. He instantly shoots out of bed, feeling himself and the comforter below him, Thankfully it's dry.

“This isn't a drill, boys! Get out and get to the football field!” August swiftly starts moving, not really knowing what is happening, he throws on his shower shoes because its faster then his sneakers and opens the door,

“Whoa? What the fuck in going on?” Max is right in front of the door when he opens it, “Jesus, Were you smoking in here?” Max starts to fan the air around him.

“What- oh no!” August runs over to the can on Max’s desk and sees all the inscenes is almost burnt out. “Fuck, I lit this insense my aunt gave me.”

“What the actual fuck, you realise you are only supposed to, I dont know, lite one single fucking stick!” Max yells, grabbing the incense from the can and tapping out the orange tips on the bottom of his boot, shoving them into his pants pocket.

“Go, I’ll fuckin handle this, but you will owe me.” August just nods and follows the commotion in the hallway until he is outside on the football field.

“Okay! Buddy up! I’ll be coming around to take roll, stick with your roommate to make things easier!” August hears the familiar voice, and of course it's Rowan, making their way down the rows of guys, all of which have two people besides him.

“Okay, Where is Maxwell?” Rowan stops in front of him,looking tired and stressed.

“Um, Where are the Other R.A’s aren't you just incharge of the freshman?” August asks, not knowing really what to do, Max isn't here because he is ‘dealing’ with the incense.

“All the other RA’s went home for the summer, besides yours but he isn't back yet because our curfew is an hour later than yours. Where is Maxwell?” Rowan asks the second time in a more serious manner, tapping on his clipboard with the end of his pencil.

“I-I…” August doesnt know what to say, he doesn't know of a lie to tell, so he doesn't, He cant anymore, He is tired and emotional and annoyed that this was all his fault. He learns over Rowan bringing a hand up to rest on his chest so he can steady himself in the dark to whisper in their ear, But instantly, he pulls it away, feeling something he did not expect to feel.

“um-I- shit. Pretend you didn't just do that…” August nods, but proceeds to lean into them without touching their chest or well, boobs this time.

“I fuckin, I lit an inscense or maybe ten of them because fuck, I know your secret and i’m not gonna tell anyone so please dont tell anyone this please-” August pulls away actually tears starting to form in his eyes, “It smelled like piss in my room and It was the only way I could get rid of it, you know who my roommate is right? Does he seem like the type of guy who wouldn't tease me if he knew i-”

“Gotcha, got it. Don't worry I wont tell but, I still need to know where Maxwell is and…The fire department is gonna search the dorms so you might still get in trouble…I’m sorry.” August pulls away from his ear,

“Max is well, he is dealing with the evidence right now…” August says looking back towards the dorms, surprised to see a sliver of light flood out from the front doors for just a second.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was taking a dump when the alarm sounded.” August could see in under the slight illumination of the moon, Max throwing him two thumbs ups.

“Okay, looks like everyone in here, We can go back inside once the fireman give us the okay,-” Rowan leans over and whispers in Max’s ear, loud enough for August to hear “If I wake up tomorrow and the bathroom is flooded because you flushed ten incense down our 250 year old pipes, your gonna be on cleaning duty for entire semester.” Rowan walks away, heading over to a few adults who had made it over from wherever August assumed they sleep.

“What the fuck? You told manboobs about it? Why?!” Max gently punched August in the stomach. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to alert August to a feeling his mind must have been blocking out with adrenalin. He has to pee.

“What time is it?” He asks, ignoring Max’s question completely.

“Fuck, like, past midnight. I think I left where I was at like eleven but it took me a whale to get back on campus.” August ignores all the questions he has about where Max was, that it took him an hour to get back to the school and what he was doing, or the transphobic nickname he used Rowan, He to far too focused on the fact that he last peed at seven, when he was in the shower and now it's nearing midnight, possibly one in the morning. That's too long for him, way too long.

“Hey, was it easy to sneak in and out of the bathroom? I gotta take a piss.” August says, He doesn't have time to lie and devise some plan that won't work out anyways, He doesn't want a repeat of earlier but worse.

“Hah, good luck. I only just managed to make it out without getting caught. Hold it.” Max turns away and walks off, leaving a hostile energy behind. August doesnt have time to worry about that now. His first order of business is taking care of him before his body does it for him. He scans the crowd for the only other face he will recognize, His eyes meet with Rowan, and immediately he hates that he has to bring this issue up with them again.

“Hey, what's up?” they both shimmied through the crowd to get to each other, August immediately clammed up. “If its about the incense, I'm not mad. I don't think you could have hurt anyone, it was just the smoke-”

“That's not it! I-I mean I do feel really bad about it but, I also, I feel really really bad because I have to…” August cannot say it. He cant admit to it knowing what Rowan knows. So he just crosses his legs and wiggles his hips and little, hoping Rowan picks up on his genuine potty dance.

“Oh, um, I don't think I was ever told what to do in this situation, hold on-” August grabs his arm just as he is about to turn away. “I’m not kidding when I say I don't have time for you to follow the rules. I need help.” Rowan pauses before nodding. Grabbing his arm and moving through the crowd.

“Thank you.” August says quietly as the loudness of the other boys fades into the distance, He shoves his free hand into his pocket to discreetly hold himself so he can keep up with Rowan. Before he knows it they stop in front of a smaller brick building. Behind the dorm.

“The headmaster knows…so she lets me use the single stall bathroom in the teachers dorm. Nobody is supposed to know about this because nobody is supposed to know about me, so make it quick and never mention this to anyone, got it.” August senses the first tinge of anger in Rowan's voice but doesn't linger on, nodding and frantically reaching for the door handle.

The teacher dorms are much smaller, and He easily spots the restroom upon walking in the door. Thankfully Rowan doesn't try to follow him this time and he is in front of the toilet in a matter of seconds, pulling himself out and letting go with ease. Knowing nobody else should be using this toilet besides the teacher and well Rowan, eases his mind. He tucks himself back in, feeling pleased that his boxers don't even feel that damp. He walk back out knowing how badly this all could have ended if he didn't reach out to Rowan.

“Hey, thanks you have no idea-” August is cut off by Rowan grabbing his arm,

“I wasn't kidding, if you tell anyone I'm trans, you're dead! You hear me? I know you probably think it funny or even weird you touched my actual tit, but It's not. I'm not joking when I say this stays between us, its not some j-”

“Jesus! Rowan, Im fucking gay!” August pulls his arm back from their grasp, “I won't tell, I mean, even if I was a transphobic, homophobic asshole like Max, you have so much worse stuff on me after tonight…, Not to mention now you know I’m just as much hiding in the closet as you are…I won't tell.” He ends his rant with a smile, that is thankfully mirrored by Rowan.

“Wait…Why do you think Max is Homophobic?” August starts walking with Rowan, explaining the conversation he overherd earlier, both of them easily slipping back into the crowd without being notice.

#fictomo #original fiction #original character #original story #omorashi #male omorashi #omocute #soft omo #piss fic #fanfic #omo #piss kink #bed wetting #roomates

[intimidating-fettuccine]

OK since I’ve been seeing so many 5 stages of grief asks on this blog i’ve been wondering this, can you do for any of the three slender brothers and the reader who’s going through the 5 stages helping the reader get through it. (If it’s too long for three then any one of the slender brothers of your choice) 

I picked three of them and went ahead and condensed it, rather than giving the reader five separate stages like I do the creeps as every individual will handle grief a bit differently.

Slender:

Slender is quick to take some time off of work, even if it means the loss of some business so that he can provide comfort to you during this time. Handling grief isn't particularly easy for anyone, and he can't stand the thought of you going through this alone, just as he would hate to be alone during this time. Anything you need, space, comfort, a little vacation, time with relatives, to get out and do things, anything you need to take your mind off of this and receive some comfort, it's yours, you just have to ask. He can afford to give you anything you want, and he won't hesitate to do so if only to see a little smile appear on that gorgeous face of yours that he hates to see twisted in sadness. Slender is quite the comforting presence in this time, and he will always be there for you whenever you need him, no matter what it is you need him for, as he loves you far too much to leave you alone. 

Offender:

Offender tries his best for you during this time, even if providing comfort isn't necessarily his specialty. He does whatever he can to help you out and give you some time to relax and try and cope through all of these emotions of loss that you're feeling. He'll pick up the slack around the house, handling cooking and chores so that you can rest and have some time to just get through these difficult times. He spares no comfort and affection as well, constantly showering you with attention so that you know you aren't alone, that he's here for you, and you aren't going through this alone. He might not be feeling the exact same emotions that you are, but he's been there before, and he can't handle the thought of you drowning in grief alone. He'll be your rock, your shoulder to cry on, anything you need to feel solid, he'll provide it for you. 

Splendor:

One of the best at being uplifting at even the darkest of times, Splendor is another one that will distance himself from work so that he can be there for you. For work, Splendor provides assistance to those in need, and right now that someone in need is you, and he'd never allow himself to leave you alone when you need help. No matter what you need, he's there, often one step ahead of you with how well he knows you, and he does whatever he can to keep your spirits as high as possible. He tries his best to keep you happy, and even in the smiles you send him are still twinged in sadness, even if tears still fall, he knows he's still breaking through to you and helping you to feel a bit of relief during the storm you're experiencing. He doesn't care how much time he has to take off, how many things he has to put off, he's not going to leave your side until this heavy weight has been lifted off of you, it's the least he could do for you who has done the same for him so many times.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta headcanons #slenderman #slenderman headcanon #slenderman headcanons #slenderman x reader #offenderman #offenderman headcanons #offenderman x reader #offenderman headcanon #splendorman #splendorman headcanons #splendorman x reader #splendorman headcanon

[dullahandyke]

Sympathetic Deceit: on Fanon, Tropes, and Unneeded Character

To those who were in the Sanders Sides fandom from 2018 to 2020, you should be familiar with the kind of simplistic moral hellscape it was. Personally, I recall the phrase 'Sympathetic Dark Sides' and go through all 5 stages of grief at the same time. I remembered it in the shower today and could not rest until I had written 2.2k about the phenomenon.

To those who weren't, I hope this is legible. Enjoy the shitshow!

Premiering in 2016, Sanders Sides is a web series by Thomas Sanders of Vine fame. Initially a light series about his internal logos, ethos, and pathos bickering over problems and coming to conclusions, the series soon integrated a plot, and eventually, tried its hand at moral complexity. Can’t say it didn’t try.

Along with the three initial sides, who were the unequivocal Good Guys, another side was soon introduced; Anxiety, an outcast and an antagonist. As the episodes went on, Anxiety was drawn more and more into the main group, until finally, the group learned his real name: Virgil. Learning the other sides’s names had been a benchmark of trust, and all the others had revealed theirs – Logan, Patton, and Roman. This symbolised that Virgil had become a part of them, no longer an outcast.

As Virgil revealed his name and joined the group, Roman said that he was ‘nothing compared to the others.’ Cue the introduction of the Dark dichotomy.

After this point, a line was drawn to retroactively define the way that Virgil had been an outcast. Roman, Patton, and Logan were the Light Sides, the good guys, the ones who were immediately trusted. Before he had begun hanging around the Light Sides, Virgil had been a member of the Dark Sides, a nebulous group that... the audience knows almost nothing about other than Virgil’s involvement and the existance of others. After that line was dropped, it was tabled. The four Light Sides blissfully bickered amongst each other with no further mention of the Dark Sides.

Five months later, an episode aired that, on its head, seemed to be another solely Light episode. For half an hour, the Light Sides argued. In the back end of the episode, however, Patton – the paternal figure of emotion and morality – had been acting less and less moral and emotional. He had turned almost calculating, and soon, the other Light Sides unmasked him as Deceit, the first Dark Side revealed with the knowledge of what they are. Thomas was panicked by this appearance, and though Deceit soon disappeared, he required reassurance from the Light Sides that despite Deceit being a part of him, he was a Good Person.

Logan, Logic, butted in and claimed that Good and Bad are relative concepts, but before he could continue, Virgil shut him up, reinforcing the dichotomy. Yes, Thomas, you’re a good person even though Deceit lives within you, believe in yourself and don’t let him get to you, etc etc etc.

After this episode, it was over two years before we saw Deceit again – saw him properly, saw him in more than bit parts. During this time, I’d like to swivel to the fandom’s reaction to Deceit, and the bullshittery to follow.

To someone familiar with fandom, it should be no surprise that Virgil was the most popular side. Once an outcast, now redeemed, the most obviously ‘complex’ character in the show. An edgy angsty side,  ripe to be woobied; babied, coddled, treated like a smol precious cinnamon roll.  Of course, if you want to draw out the woobie, first you need to damage it, to give it something to heal from. Hurt/Comfort needs the Hurt. However, all of the Light Sides were good – at this point, no reason had been given to question their morality, and the idea that any of them  would purposefully harm Virgil after his redemption was not a popular one at all. The Light Sides were not the only characters, though. There were the Dark Sides. There was Deceit.

Deceit, who had only gotten five or so minutes screen-time as himself, the rest of which had him imitating Patton. Deceit, who had been set up as the first serious antagonist and was not touched for two years. Deceit, who had a history. Who had bad blood with Virgil of all sides. It was almost inevitable.

The most common use of this angst was in Deceit’s capacity as a manipulator. He had many parallels to Patton, often considered to be the leader of the Light Sides, and this led to him being considered leader of the Dark Sides. Virgil had defected from the dark, and hey, he had to have had a pretty good reason to defect, right? Most often, it was written either than Deceit had turned Virgil against the Light Sides and that Virgil had realised this, or that Deceit had been a perpetrator of abuse of any kind conceivable. This second interpretation soon spread, into Alternate Universes and everything beyond, with Deceit as a stand-in for any sort of villain. If you wanted to write a story about Virgil recovering from being physically, sexually, psychologically abused, he needed an abuser. High School!Virgil needed a bully. Fantasy!Virgil needed an evil leader to betray. All through this, Deceit’s name was a point of contention. He was the only side thus far not to have one, and while there was no real consensus, one of the most common was Damien, a name commonly associated with demons and evil.

Eventually, however, Deceit appeared again in 2019, when he butted heads with Patton for a full 40 minutes. Though he was rebuffed again, this episode shifted the common perception of Deceit almost entirely. As opposed to his first appearance, during which he appeared unilaterally sinister after imitating a beloved character for the sake of manipulation, this Deceit was charismatic. He was funny, he had good arguments, and many fans welcomed the ‘dimension’ that this brought to the series. They agreed with him, or thought that he had been railroaded by the bias against Dark Sides, or simply liked the cut of his jib. Thus, the tide began to turn against the conception of Deceit as solid evil. However, this was to face a mighty challenge in the coming months: the same black and white morality that Deceit himself was fighting  against.

While Virgil had been redeemed, many fans were much less willing to give credence to Deceit. After all, they had just spent two years building him up as the villain of all villains! He wasn’t the only one: there was also a theorised third Dark Side, usually called Anger or some variation, to parallel Logan’s fits of rage. However, Deceit had been the star of the show, and realising him as sympathetic would leave them without an incorrigable villain. A schism formed between those who liked and those who hated Deceit, and this culminated in the beginning of the sympathies: Sympathetic Deceit.

It was incredibly jarring for many fans, who had written Deceit as an manipulator and an abuser and all manner of other evils, to see him suddenly being discussed as if he was a good person. A call to action came, asking that people tag Deceit content which wasn’t wholehearted condemnation. Sympathetic Deceit, they called it, not wanting to see this character be treated with any kind of mercy or dimension. If it sounds like I have a grudge, well, my past kinship with Deceit is business of mine and mine alone.

However, Sympathetic Deceit was not the only tag to come out of this. Soon, as the Deceit sympathisers were beginning to question the morality of Deceit, this doubt spread to the Light Sides. The character that this most prominently affected was Patton, Deceit’s Light counterpart. What had previously been a cute, optimistic, paternal character was being analysed more closely. People were noticing his toxic positivity, his possessiveness, his holier-than-thou moral attitude. Before this point, any fanworks featuring conflict between the Light Sides was the result of misunderstanding or attitudes that changed by the end of the works. However, many people were angry and frustrated with Patton, and they began to write him as manipulative, as an antagonist, as Bad. He didn’t get redeemed in those. Thus was born the tag Unsympathetic Patton.

Unsympathetic was not the same as Evil or Bad; after all, that would have just been recreating the Light and Dark dichotomy, which Unsympathetic Patton was meant to break! Instead, Unsympathetic Patton fics had a few key characteristics. Firstly, he harmed the other sides, be it through malice or ignorance. Secondly, he did not grow from it. He was not redeemed and he did not apologise, and thus, there was no  way to Sympathise with him, to see him as more than a nameless villain to attack and run when their time was up.

This convention also spread to other characters – Unsympathetic Virgil, used in tandem with Sympathetic Deceit to paint Virgil as the one at fault for their falling out. Unsympathetic Roman, with his arrogance and proclivity for cutting remarks. Rarest of all was Unsympathetic Logan, but his calculating nature and quickness to anger earned him more than a few works. However, even today, Unsympathetic Patton Sanders is the most common unsympathy tag, though this is likely due to the fact that the tagging trend only came about after the two years of Deceit Villainy, so many Unsympathetic Deceit fics are not tagged as such.

There are many reasons why Patton was the most popular unsympathetic side. He was stubborn and obstinately positive, often pushing the emotions of the other Sides to the wayside. He held a position as a fatherly Christian arbiter of morality that felt wrong to many of the series’s young queer fans. His position as undisputed cinnamon roll of goodness left him far to fall. What matters most, though, is the way that this represents the growing schism between the two groups of fans, which had more in common than they would like to admit.

On one side: the people who had built up Deceit in their heads as this big, scary villain, and clung to their unsympathetic view of him even as the series went on and he became a squarely ‘sympathetic’ figure.

On the other side: people who were on Deceit’s side, and, often in backlash to the other side (some of whom hated Deceit because they were Patton fans), wrote more about Unsympathetic Light Sides. To widen the scape of stories being told, to get back at the Deceit haters, whatever their reasons.

The very next episode, three months after the sympathism schism began, in came Remus. A Dark Side representing intrusive thoughts, he was always going to be a divisive and triggering character. I only knew a new episode had come out because the top post on my dash was reminding people to tag for Sympathetic Remus. I was squarely in the Sympathetic Deceit camp, so I imagine that there was more ‘Unsympathetic Remus’ content outside of my circle that fell more into his placement as a Dark Side, but in my eyes, Remus himself was not the most impactful part of that episode on the fandom’s perception of characters. It was his backstory.

Remus was introduced as a character who represented ‘dark creativity’, such as gore, fetish, and sexuality, in contrast to Roman, who was ‘light’ creativity; romance, fantasy, adventure. Roman and Remus are twins, and the popular fan conception is that they were once one Creativity that was then split. This split is theorised to have come around because of Thomas wanting to distance himself from his unsettling thoughts, viewed through a Christian lens of bad thoughts meaning bad actions. This view is continually espoused by Patton, who was already being cast as Evil by the fanbase. Thus, on came the idea that Patton was directly responsible for Creativity being torn apart and Remus being cast into the Darkness, and on goes more slack to the fire.

In mid-2020, we got an epsiode focused around combatting the idea of Unsympathetic sides, and it’s another one focused around Deceit vs Patton. In this episode, Patton turns out to be the bad influence and Deceit is the one who ‘saves’ Thomas, revealing his name as Janus in a show of trust as Roman berates Thomas for trusting a Dark Side. Patton and Deceit talk about how much one can make mistakes before you should cut them out of your life, and Patton apologises. If I recall correctly, this did calm down some of the Patton haters; after all, he apologised and promised to do better going forward. However, many Patton Unsympathisers did not feel it was enough, or had simply fallen far enough into the groove of Unsympathetic Patton that it was familiar.

Since this episode, there have been side-stories and gag episodes, but no proper plot. Well, TV Tropes tells me that that fabled Anger side has been foreshadowed, but that’s irrelevant for now. I don’t really know how to wrap up this essay, because it’s not like there’s been a conclusion to this. There are still people who hate Deceit and who hate Patton, though they are much lower in numbers than they once were. From what I remember, Unsympathetic Sides became seen as more of a story convention than a representation of true feelings. Sides are seen as unsympathetic for specific AUs where they fit the villains.

To this day, 3 years since its introduction, the Sympathy tagging system is still used. Out of the 20 most recent Sanders Sides fics on AO3, five of them were tagged with some variation of Sympathy or Unsympathy, a ratio shared by the most recent Deceit fics in particular.

I guess this acts as a word of caution against hiatus-brain and ignoring canon for the sake of fanon. Mostly, it acts as a place for me to vent the absolute shitshow that was the fandom. The shitshow that probably still is the fandom. Any current fans, feel free to correct me, I fell out of it around late 2020.

Don’t watch this series. It is not good.

#@fans hope u dont mind me trigger tagging in here. u can block me i dont mind #thomas sanders #sanders sides #see idek who my audience is aside from 'bitter ex-fans' and i dont think we have a support group or anything to tag so #also i barely proofread this hashtag soz

[theliterateape]

The Final Stage of Grief

by Don Hall

Prior to recording a recent Literate ApeCast, Himmel and I talked a bit about the Kubler-Ross Five Stages of Grief. In regards to the demise of my third marriager and subsequent demolishing of the life I thought I was living, it turns out that I have mixed them up some, skipped one step altogether, and am now in the final act.

The stages are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. I think I went through Denial and Depression at the same time during the four months hiding in my one bedroom apartment in Vegas. I skipped Bargaining altogether and only recently got to Anger. So, what does Acceptance look like?

Before Apple got all on top of things photos-wise, I used Google Photos a lot. I got rid of it a few years ago because Google has become a predatory feature in the world of data sales but apparently had not deleted the cache of pictures taken over the years.

My iCloud only goes back as 2012 with exactly one photo of me getting a key lime martini in a high end bar with Vanessa Harris. I don't know why I kept it but I like the look on my face as well as the odd spectacle of having a bright green cocktail in hand. Looking at the shot reminds me of a day when Harris and I were wandering around together, telling stories, getting drunk in the day with booze and words. It was a good day and I suppose this one photo expands in my recollection.

The Google Photos account is less curated and more like a giant photo dump. A fair amount of duplicates exist in this digital desk drawer or suitcase and there are over 8,000 pictures of bits both large and small littered in the mix. The timeline went as far back as 2006. Eighteen years of my path suddenly thrust in my face.

As I did eight months ago when the sordid details of my third wife's secret life blew up in my face like sewage suddenly shooting straight up out the shower drain, I decided to cull every photo of her, of any hint we had been together, a purge of memories that revealed to me what a sham the whole thing was in effort to do something that felt like emotional chemotherapy. Kill the cancer, grow your hair back, reframe existence.

I used to keep screenshots of plane tickets as a backup and, in this moment, each represented the beginning of a hundred little getaways and vacations, holiday travel, and work related journeys. Before 2014, there were a lot of pictures of me. An embarrassing treasure of Narcissus, gazing into the pool of selfies, reveling in my transformative weight loss of that time when I dropped 80 pounds in 2007/2008. Also in tow were hundreds of inspirational phrases laid out on stock photos as reminders I suppose.

"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." "Do no harm. Embrace possibility. Live to tell about it." "Live the Dream. Endure the Nightmare." and one of my favorites that seems to encapsulate both my desire for reminders to avoid being bogged down in convention and my tendency toward treating obstacles with unfettered aggression: "Life is Short. Can you really say you've lived if you haven't punched a stupid person in the face?"

A shot of my friend Matt sleeping on my couch the summer he crashed for three months waiting for his fiancé to return from France. Carl Kasell posing with a bunch of the Carl plush dolls I ordered to sell for Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me!. A panorama shot of me standing on a Michigan beach taken by Alice.

Countless pics of performances of The Moth, BUGHOUSE!, LitMash, and the myriad events I produced for WBEZ all around Chicago. Family photos from Christmas and the Fourth of July—the shock of seeing my nephew (who died from a fentanyl overdose in 2020) when he was alive and happy was bittersweet but lovely. Joe and I roadtripping it to Kansas for my grandma's funeral.

Apparently, from 2008—2016 I had some bizarre desire to take brochure shots of bathroom graffiti in seedy bars all over Chicago.

Along the way I deleted photos of people who were friends at the time but ended up enemies. "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." Up until 2014, I saw a lot of me, a lot of my friends, a lot of life as it unfolded in the form of events and shows and pledge drives and time in the gym. I had already culled through the Alice pictures but strangely managed to still have a few shots of Katie whom I only dated for six weeks.

Sunday, May 11, 2014 was the day things changed. All of the inspirational phrases, carefully set in creative fonts, became pronouncements of love.

"She's mad but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." "And suddenly, all the love songs were about you." "What we find in a soulmate is not something wild to tame but something wild to run with." "You're kinda, sorta, basically pretty much always on my mind."

The tone shifted in the Google Photos slog through nostalgia. All of a sudden there were scores of pictures of her. The third wife. The fiancé after three dates. Out of the 8,000 stored images, nearly 5,000 were of her or us.

One of her quirks, I'll call it, was that she seemed to be living every one of her failed relationships as if each one had ended the day before. She was still angry at the high school boyfriend who dumped her, the blonde dreamboat who moved to D.C. leaving her behind, the porn photographer who "lost his sexual mojo." She would routinely rant about the frequently homeless guy she dated before meeting me who fetishized her, had a horse cock, and tried to smother her with a pillow once out of jealousy. The frustration of thwarted expectations sat within her all the time to be dredged up in random moments on random days to foul her mood and revisit that which still felt fresh and bleeding in her mind.

I never really understood this quirk as I can barely remember any of the bad times in my past relationships to the point that, when I do think about them, the simple narrative of why it worked and why it failed obfuscates any remembrance of anger or pain. The first ex-wife and I married too young and out of sense that that was what we were supposed to do. We did our best but, in the end, couldn't sustain it. The second ex-wife and I got married out of a transactional artistic arrangement and when I stopped producing shows for her to direct, she found someone else. Alice, while not a wife but a four-year off and on battle, couldn't get enough of sex with me but fundamentally didn't like me much. I stopped ruminating on the specifics of how's and why's and could see more good than bad within each failure.

My past is represented in scars, I thought. Hers are perpetually bleeding.

So I culled my Google Photos of the memories as thoroughly as I could. Countless pictures of the two of us on vacation—Jamaica, St. Thomas, New Orleans, Paris, London, Edinburgh, places in Michigan, Reno, Flagstaff, Harrisburg. Countless pictures of family holidays. Countless shots of her playing drums with various bands in various venues around Chicago. Poetry readings. Storytelling events. Medieval Times. Cirque du Soleil. Pub crawls with flights of beer. House parties.

There were at least several hundred pictures of her nude modeling she'd sent me. At least several hundred of the two of us posing for a couples selfie all over the place. An entire album of our Vegas wedding.

Through it all, I kept expecting to be overwhelmed by grief or anger or disillusionment. I wasn't.

On the day after we decided to divorce but the day before she confessed she'd been working as a prostitute for nearly three years, I told her that, while things didn't work the way we thought it would, ours was the best marriage and the most loved I'd ever lived. I meant it, it apparently meant a lot to her, and we both cried. The next day she unveiled the unthinkable and all of that sentiment was forgotten.

That's the thing about shock. If you're at least a little bit emotionally healthy, it wears off. Sure, it takes time to heal up, to get those bloody cuts to scab over and eventually scar, but it does wear off. "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."

What I see was what everyone else saw. A strange but lovely couple. I was ridiculously and wholly in love with this woman. For five years in Chicago, we had an extraordinary partnership even with the personal quirks and curveballs thrown by life. What I see is a man in love and a woman doing her best to love him back. I see joy and laughter. I see mutual support. I see my family embrace her and she embrace them.

I see, for five years, between 2014 and 2019, the best marriage I'd ever had.

When my nephew died, I put together a video in memoriam for my sister. It included pictures of him from birth until shortly before he passed. One of the awful things I noticed in putting it together was that as his life got closer to the day of his death, his eyes started changing. He looked like someone going downhill. It was stark and obvious when no one really saw it at the time.

The Google Photos from the time we arrived in Vegas until the day I knew she decided to live her lie and then until we split reveal something similar. There are fewer pictures of her and the ones that were taken show her flipping the camera off or looking annoyed that I'm taking a picture at all. She starts wearing more and more makeup. Her clothing, which was always sort of a grunge 90's aesthetic, became more tattered and trashy. We took a day trip to Rhyolite, NV and there are forty pictures of the place and only three of her, six of me, and one of the two of us together. She looks unhappy in the four she's posing in.

Another quirk of hers was to subtly adopt the local accent of any place we visited. I first noticed it when we honeymooned in Jamaica. As soon as we got off the plane, her normal speech was suddenly musical in that Jamaican way. When she spoke to locals it became more pronounced. She did this in France and in London, too. Perhaps this assimilation was deeper than the accents but with the place. Las Vegas is a place of easy money, flexible morality, and an influx of tourists coming to have a fine, filthy time before going back to their homes and cubicles.

I'll never know what the truth was and it likely doesn't matter if I do. Getting rid of her photos from this specific digital dump felt more like packing up the clothing of someone who died to go to Goodwill. The woman for whom I collected hundreds of excerpts from Pablo Neruda and lovesick sayings died in February of 2020—I just didn't know until much later. I'll confess that I miss her but who she was rather than who she is and that's some Grade A mindfuckery.

I didn't see the change in her until it was long past the expiration date. I was looking but wasn't seeing what is now completely obvious through the photographs through our time together. I wouldn’t change a day with her for those first five years because I was in love and was with the person I was in love with. The person she chose to be once we got to Vegas is no one I ever wish to see again and so I delete all memory of her as completely as I can. I suppose that’s how all split ups are and the duality of our memories pervades the path forward.

Funny that, as I deleted thousands of reminders of her, I'm keeping all the inspirational sayings and even a few of the romantic ones because you never know who’s coming around the corner, right?

[goingmorry]

Hellooo I love your writing soooo much >>•<<

Could you please write headcanons of ASL sister introducing Smoker as her fiancé ? Thank you so much !

[One Piece Headcanons] ASL Brothers -> when you introduce Smoker as your fiancé

Characters: Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Smoker

Tags: female reader, overprotective brothers

Author's Note: Thank you for the cute request! I got carried away and added short scenarios for each brother's reaction and a little extra at the end. I hope you like it! 💖

PORTGAS D. ACE

Goes from 😯 to 😡 to 🤬

Ace.exe has stopped working.

He's the 2nd Division Commander of the esteemed Whitebeard Pirates; who in their right mind would think it would be a good idea for him — the son of the late Pirate King — to meet a Marine Vice-Admiral?

Cue war flashbacks of when Garp showered him, Luffy, and Sabo with his "fists of love" for sharing their childhood dreams of becoming pirates.

Goes through all seven stages of grief and complains to Sabo every single time.

Threatens Smoker every chance he gets. The Marine Vice-Admiral repays in kind when you're not around.

Doesn't warm up to the idea of you and Smoker as a couple except on your wedding day.

"Behave yourself," you whisper to your fiancé, soft hands tightly gripping his muscular bicep in warning.

"I'm on my best behavior. It's your brother who needs to behave," Smoker says bluntly, brown eyes observing the freckled pirate's reaction to you and your beau's interlocked arms.

Ace stares, and stares, and stares — at his little sister and the familiar white-haired man he encountered early on during his journey to Alabasta — dumbfounded at the scene before him.

"Fire Fist," the Marine Vice-Admiral calls out, breaking him from his reverie.

"You—" Ace yells, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers to rapidly engulf his entire first.

Before your fiancé can return your fiery brother's sudden display of aggression, you step in between their bodies, eyes alight with fury.

"Stop it!" you scold Ace, extending your pointer finger and thumb to pinch his ear in retaliation.

He frowns at you, but obliges, flames extinguishing from his curled fist. "We need to talk. Now."

Not waiting for your response, Ace saunters off toward his bedroom at the other end of the hallway, posture stiff and robotic. To anyone, outsider or not, it was evident from Ace's appearance and demeanor that the usually friendly pirate was clearly not in a good mood.

"Just wait here. I won't be long," you say to Smoker before dashing off in pursuit of your freckled brother.

When you close the door to his bedroom, Ace begins his tirade, arms crossed against his bare chest as he faces your more petite frame.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

You look at him in bewilderment but don't say a word, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Him! That—that big oaf! There are millions of men in this world! And it has to be him? I don't approve!" Ace doesn't stop himself from frantically gesturing at the closed door — the only piece of barrier, aside from him, of course — separating you from your fiancé.

You frown at Ace's insult, adopting a defensive stance. "Don't call him that! And I don't need your permission, you know. Why are you acting like this?"

"You're my little sister! Of course, I'm concerned!" Ace adjusts himself from the desk he was leaning on. "Do you know what he's done to Luffy?"

You shakily exhale at his accusatory tone. "I know! We've talked about this. He's promised to look the other way when it comes to our family."

"And you believe him?"

"Of course, I do! He hasn't given me any reason to doubt him."

"He's not exactly husband material," Ace interjects, to which you roll your eyes. At this point, it was apparent to you that your big brother was grasping at straws, finding reasons — however shallow they may be — to make you reconsider this marriage.

"He dresses better than you, that's for sure," you say childishly.

Ace's eyebrows furrow, taking great offense to your statement. "What's wrong with the way I dress?"

"Have you seen yourself? You're always strutting around like you own the place. Shirtless and all," you comment, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "Have some common decency at least."

"He's not wearing a shirt either!" Ace says indignantly.

"No, but he has a jacket—"

"That he leaves open all the time, which basically makes it useless," Ace argues, "Why bother if you're not even gonna wear it properly?"

"Argh, forget it. I don't want to talk about this anymore," you say, burying your face in your hands.

Ace takes the hint, feeling guilty as he walks over to your defeated form to rub circles on your back slowly.

A truce, for now.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sometime later, when you return from Ace's bedroom, you find your fiancé calmly sitting on the corner of the couch. Without a word, you plop down beside him and rest your head on the crook of his shoulder.

Smoker takes a deep drag of his cigars, observing your distraught appearance and the lack of a certain cowboy-hat-wearing pirate. "Well, that went well."

SABO

Goes from 😟 to 😩 to 😭

Dies a little bit on the inside.

His precious little sister finally finds love, and who's her betrothed? The infamous White Hunter himself.

He expected this behavior from Ace, but you?

Discreetly pulls you aside to express his disapproval.

Learns to cope and eventually warms up to your relationship with the Marine. How can he not when you look so happy?

De-escalates arguments between Ace and your lover every single time.

"Sabo!" You pull your big brother into an embrace which he reciprocates.

When the blond Revolutionary notices the white-haired man standing behind you, he stiffens, gloved hand reaching behind his back to clasp his metal pipe.

Noticing your older brother's sudden alertness, you nudge his side in reassurance. "This is the fiancé I've been telling you about."

Sabo quickly puts two and two together. All those conversations you've had with him, and not once did you mention that you were engaged to an officer of the Marines. And not just any Marine officer, you were engaged to the Commander of the notorious G-5 base.

In an effort to remain composed, Sabo forces a half-hearted smile — appearing more like a grimace really, but an action you appreciated nonetheless - and extends his right arm to your fiancé for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you."

Ignoring the daggers you were glaring at the side of his face, Smoker hesitantly grips the blond Revolutionary's hand. "Pleasure," he grunts out, letting out a puff of white smoke from his cigars.

For a moment, the two men clasp at each other's hand in a show of fake camaraderie.

Choosing to ignore the growing tension thick in the air, you clap your hands together in mock enthusiasm.

"Great! Let's meet the rest of the family, shall we?"

MONKEY D. LUFFY

Goes from 😁 to 😊 to 🥳

The only one who's okay with your relationship with Smoker.

He's survived having Garp, the Hero of the Marines, as his grandfather; he can certainly handle an additional Marine in the family.

Gets along with your fiancé the best, though Smoker himself denies this.

"Woah, what's Smokey doing here?" Luffy says in awe, looking back and forth between you and the Marine.

You tap your feet in nervousness, gesturing between Smoker and your youngest brother.

"Luffy, this is my fiancé. Smoker, this is my little brother."

"I know who Straw Hat Luffy is," Smoker says impatiently, barely glancing at the pirate standing a few feet in front of him.

"You haven't been formally introduced to each other, have you?" you say indignantly, hips cocked to one side as you stare at your fiancé's tepid behavior.

"In a normal setting, I mean," you clarify, "You chasing him and his crew does NOT count."

Smoker shrugs at your accusation, and you sigh.

Luffy laughs at your scolding, looking up at the Marine. "It's okay. I meant what I said in Alabasta. I don't hate you, y'know?"

You smile at your little brother's statement. You could always count on Luffy to be accepting of your partner, whoever they may be. Also, he wasn't the type to dwell on the past, preferring instead to live in the moment. And that moment was your engagement to the Marine Vice-Admiral, the same man who used to hunt Luffy and his crew throughout the Grand Line for being wanted criminals.

'Tsk' is all Smoker says to the straw hat pirate's proclamation, earning a disapproving pinch to his side from you.

"Be nice," you whisper harshly to your fiancé's ear.

The sound of your little brother's joyous laughter is enough for the normally serious Marine to let out a small smile.

BONUS BELOW LMAO

MONKEY D. GARP

Goes from 😌 to 🥰 to 🤗

T H R I L L E D that his grandson-in-law is a respectable Marine.

The epitome of Proud Father Figure™

Compares the ASL brothers to Smoker every chance he gets during family reunions.

"Y'hear that Luffy? Smoker just caught a band of no-good pirates terrorizing the local townsfolk." Luffy picks his nose in acknowledgment.

Garp points an accusatory finger at Ace. "You damn brat, why couldn't you listen to me and become a Marine like I told you to?"

Garp gives a disapproving glare to Sabo. "And you! Why'd you have to join the shady Revolutionaries and become a wanted criminal like my son?"

Garp proceeds to give the ASL brothers multiple rounds of his fists of love. Meanwhile, he smooches your forehead in happiness for finding a suitable husband.

You and Smoker live happily ever after. The end.

#one piece #smoker x reader #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #sabo #asl brothers #monkey d. garp #one piece writing #one piece scenarios #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #mywriting

[xoxo-teddybear]

If This Is Wrong, Then I Don’t Wanna Be Right - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: DARK THEMES, INCEST, Smut, Filth, Cursing, not spell checked SORRY >w<

Summary: Ever since your dad remarried into the Bakugou family, your life’s been turned around. One incident with your step brother led to a plethora of problems that were so wrong but felt so right.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Another day, another confused Y/N. Y/N L/N, now Y/N Bakugou, has been going through it. Her mom leaving her family at a young age, her dad going through stages of grief and neglecting Y/N, and now the worst of it all. He’s been remarried.

That’s not the bad part. Y/N was happy for her dad, especially since Mitsuki Bakugou made him a better person and father. The bad part was her son. Bakugou Katsuki.

Don’t get it twisted, Bakugou and you got along great, but for reasons your parents didn’t know. Before you two became step siblings, you and Bakugou had huge crushes on each other and even slept together before at a party. It was safe to say those feelings never went away, especially now that you both lived with each other.

You were smart though. You couldn’t ruin this great thing for your dad. And you finally had a family again after all these years of just being a daddy-daughter duo. You couldn’t destroy this. However, Bakugou had other plans. He was very forward with his feelings towards you and always made attempts to pursue you. And no matter how many times you told him “we’re siblings now, what we feel can never happen,” he chose to ignore it.

Ever since you became his little step-sister, Bakugou’s love for you just grew stronger. He doesn’t care that you guys are legal family now, he wants you and only you and he refuses to move on. No matter how many times you deny him, he knows you both long to be together. Besides, Bakugou Katsuki always gets what he wants.

—

“Love you guys, see you soon.” You said hugging your parents goodbye. They were going on a work trip for Mitsuki’s job and were gonna be gone for about 3 months.

“See you soon sweetie. Be sure to take care of yourself, okay?” Your dad said.

“I’ll be okay dad.” You assured him. Mitsuki went in to hug you before she left.

“Don’t let Katsuki bug you too much, love.” She said.

“THE HELL DID YOU SAY YA HAG?!” Bakugou screamed.

“OH HUSH!” She said and walked to the car along with your dad. You guys said your final goodbyes and went inside. Once you shut the front door, Bakugou stood infront of you with a smirk and his hands in his pockets.

“Soo...princess. Whaddaya wanna do?” He said with a cocky grin. You gulped in nervousness. You knew his game. Bakugou always teased you with his touch or said dirty things in your ear when no one would look. Now you guys were home alone for the next few months. Who knows what would happen.

“Look Katsuki, I’m just gonna head up to my room to watch a movie.” You said and began to walk but Bakugou followed.

“Mind if I joined?” He asked.

“Join? In my room? In my bed? I don’t think so Katsuki.” You said with your arms crossed. Your arms only lifted your bust even more and Bakugou licked his lips at the sight of your chest in that tube top.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything....unless you want me to.” He teased as he walked up to you with his hand lifting your chin and his arm around your waist. He leaned in a little and smirked even more.

“You look like you don’t want me to stop,” he said that and your body naturally pressed in closer to his. His hand travelled to your ass to give it a firm squeeze which had you gasping, and just as your lips were about to touch you pulled away.

“Mm, no, Katsuki. Just- if you want to watch, you can come I guess.” You gave in and walked to your room and left your door open just in case Katsuki chose to join you. Soon enough, he walked in and sat next to you on your bed.

The movie progressed and Bakugou had made no attempts which shocked you. The whole time, you kept giving him side eye to see if he was sneaking some dirty looks at your body..but..nothing. He wasn’t trying anything and honestly..it left you a little needy.

Needy for his attention, for his touch...for him. The movie eventually reached a steamy scene and the whole time your face grew red. You and Bakugou both watched and whenever you glanced at him, he continued to hold a nonchalant look on his face. You however could feel yourself growing wet. You watched the scene and imagined it was you and Bakugou it that bed. You imagined how his hands would feel against your bare body again, and soon, you mind wandered off to the night you both shared when you weren’t siblings yet.

You missed the way his lips felt, the way his body radiated a comforting warmth, the way he dragged his cock in and out of you, bringing you to your euphoric release. You couldn’t help it. He was your crush after all. Without realizing, the movie came to an end and throughout the whole hour and 45 minutes, Bakugou didn’t make one attempt to touch you.

“Nice movie,” he began. “Gonna make some food. Want any?”

“Umm....no..I’m uh, all set.” You said with a little confused voice. Bakugou found it adorable and just walked off to the kitchen.

He almost died during that movie. He had to sit next to you, on your bed, HOME ALONE, as you wore a tube top and tight booty shorts, and not touch you at all.

“Settle Katsuki, geez. Just wait a little more,” he said to himself. Bakugou realized he was getting nowhere with him going after you, so he came up with this plan. Now, Bakugou was no dummy. You loved him the same way he loved you, but he knew you didn’t wanna ruin this precious little family, so he’s gonna push you to your limit. You’re so used to Bakugou touching you, feeling up on you, teasing you, and whispering dirty and sweet nothings into your ears. Now, Bakugou’s gonna stop with his pining, and wait for you to break. Wait for you to beg for him and his touch. He’ll wait for his little princess to finally come to him to settle her needy desires. Yes, it would be dreadful for Bakugou to be patient but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

Soon, you came out to the kitchen for some water. He noticed you looked a little flushed and had a little blush on your face.

‘Had she been toying with herself?’ Bakugou thought. The imagine of you playing with yourself and thinking of him entered his mind. It caused him to get riled up as he bit his lip to fight the moans attempting to leave his mouth. Bakugou had already seen all of you and even been inside you, but he craved for it again. But he wanted more than your body. He wanted you as a whole.

“You okay?” He asked. He noticed how you jumped at his voice and when you slightly turned to face him, he caught how your eyes looked him up and down, causing him to smirk the slightest bit.

“I’m fine, don’t worry Suki!”

‘Suki.’ He thought. That’s the name you called him when he completely rearranged your guts. He raised his brow at the name and you caught on to that. He saw you grin a little at the realization and he knew what you wanted. But you had to say it. You were only hinting at your neediness and he needed you to beg for him. Your little smirk wasn’t good enough.

“Alright. I made an extra plate for you. I’m all set so I’ll be in the shower,” he said. He noticed you staring at him, waiting for something more. Usually, after announcing he would be in the shower, he would usually offer you to join him. But not this time. He walked off and as he walked he heard you release the slightest whine. It caused his friend to painfully rise and once he entered the shower, he had to settle himself.

As you were left in the kitchen, you rubbed your legs together for friction. Bakugou hadn’t given you the slightest bit of attention ever since your parents had left. You won’t lie, when you found out your parents would be leaving for a few months, you had silently hoped Bakugou would take the opportunity to ravish you, but nothing came. Had he grown tired of waiting for you? Was he no longer interested? The thought scared you. He was your step brother, but you couldn’t stop the way you were feeling. You left to the privacy of your room to please yourself once more. And yes, it would be to the thought of Bakugou once again.

—

It was around 3 a.m. as you layed in bed, still awake and unsatisfied. The thought of Bakugou losing interest scared you. You couldn’t be together, but you still wanted him to want you the same way you do him. It was selfish and wrong, but you could help yourself. Eventually, your thoughts became too much and so you left to see Bakugou yourself.

You knocked on the door and after a minute, a shirtless Bakugou opened the door. It was obvious he wasn’t sleeping either. Must’ve been occupied with something else, the same like you.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” He asked.

“Y/N, huh? No princess, no love, no nothing?” He raised his brow with his head slightly thrown back. He laughed a little before speaking.

“Sorry am I missing something? Whaddaya need, princess?” He finally said. When the little pet name left his mouth, you could already feel yourself settling down the tiniest bit, but it wasn’t enough.

“Can we talk?” You asked and he only stepped aside and opened up the door for you. You walked in as he shut the door and you took a seat on his bed as he stood infront of you.

“Alright, talk. Need something?” He said.

“Sort of. I kinda just want to ask...what’s up with you lately.” You admitted.

“What?”

“You- heh, you’re not you.” You laughed out. He laughed too because he knew what you were talking about but he played dumb.

“Come again?” He asked. You released a tired sigh before continuing.

“What’s up? You don’t touch me anymore, you don’t tease me with your words, you don’t even spare me an extra glance. Why?” You asked.

“Aww, does princess miss my attention?” He teased.

“Maybe I do.” You said with a smirk and he mimicked your look and bit the side of his cheek. Suddenly, the tension in the room grew and you could feel heat rise to your cheeks.

“I’ve been pining after you for months, Y/N. I spoil you with my touch and comfort you with certain words and the second I stop, the princess gets replaced with a brat?” He said with a devious smirk. He leaned in closer to your face before speaking. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” You questioned.

“Stop acting like you don’t want me as much as I want you.” Your eyes went wide at his words.

“What?” You released with a breathy voice.

“You like me and I like you. A lot. Some would say it’s close enough to love, princess. And I know you better than you think. I know you miss the attention I give you and I know you miss the way my cock feels inside your sweet little cunt.” He said moving in as he spoke into your ear with his hands at your sides on the bed, caging you in.

You stood up and placed your hands on his shoulders and this time you got in his face.

“You’re right. I miss your attention and I definitely miss the way you took care of me that night. But we’re still siblings-“

“Step siblings,” he corrected.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re still legally related and so if we were to be together, no matter how bad we both want to, we both know it’s wrong.” You explained. Bakugou held your chin with his fingers and had his other hand press into your cunt, earning a moan from you.

“If this is wrong, then I don’t want to be right.” He said as his forehead was pressed against your own. His fingers continued to rub into you throughout your thin shorts. You released more moans and gasps as he smirked. “You’re not stopping me, Princess.”

“I don’t think I want to, Suki.” You said and your arms quickly wrapped around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, that he gladly returned. He smiled into the kiss as his hands went to grip and your ass. He squeezed it just enough for you to moan into the kiss and he took the chance to slide his tongue in, tasting your wet cavern. Your tongues fought for dominance until he eventually won, but you weren’t going down so easily. You turned yourselves around without breaking the kiss and you pushed him onto his bed. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist as you dove back into the kiss.

“Looks like my princess is finally taking control,” he smirked as you separated.

“Your princess?” You teasingly asked.

“Yeah. My princess. Like it?” He asked with a grin.

“Love it,” you said and then proceeded to kiss him. Soon, your bottoms came off along with your panties. Bakugou felt the smooth skin and smacked your ass and having you groan at the sensation. You felt his boner press against your bare clit and you both quickly discarded his sweats along with your top.

Now, your bare bodied pressed together as your hand went to Bakugou’s cock. You rubbed at his tip as he gasped.

“Ohh f-fuck princess.” You smirked from above him as your hand jerked his hard cock.

“You like that, Nii-San?” You giggled out. Bakugou opened his eyes and noticed your smirk. He watched as your tits jiggled right infront of his face and on instinct, his hand went right to grope it. You bit your lip as you moaned from his touch.

“You just love your big brother’s cock, dontcha’ huh sis?” He teased.

“Mm, yess Suki!” Bakugou smacked your ass with his free hand.

“Wrong name, Princess.” He rubbed at your ass that was now red with his hand print as you continued to play with his cock.

“Mm, Nii-San!” You moaned out.

“That’s a good girl,” he said as he pulled you in closer to suck on your chest. He flipped you over in the process and kissed down your body. He kissed your wet cunt before giving it a slow lick. You mewled at the feeling of his tongue and begged for more.

“N-Nii-San! Don’t stop! Please!” Bakugou smiled against your clit as he feasted on your sweet nectar. His tongue reached every inch of your pussy and he sucked on your little nub. His tongue entered you as your hands grabbed at his hair.

“Fuck yess!! Just like that! Mm..” your hips began to grind against his face as his hands wrapped around your legs to hold you steady.

“Gotta stay still for your big brother, Princess.” He spoke before continuing. He had your legs shaking around his head as he continued.

“S-Shit! Nii- ..Nii-San! I’m gonna cum!” You said while pulling at his soft locks. He held you down tighter.

“Cum, cum on my tongue Princess,” he said as he continued. He slurped at your sweet cunt as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. You felt your orgasm approach you as your released the white honey onto his tongue, and Bakugou didnt waste a drop. He left your cunt but sent two fingers inside of you, pressing against your g-spot. He stood above you, using his other hand to jerk his cock.

“You fucking ready for the main event princess?” He asked and kissed your cheek as you moaned at his fingers.

“Yess! Please,” you said. Bakugou went up to your ear and softly spoke to you.

“Then I want you to beg for it,” he said, “beg for Nii-SAN’s giant cock. Beg me to fuck you so good you forget your own name, slut.” His words had your hips grinding against his hand.

“Mm, please Nii-San! Please fuck me!” You begged. But Katsuki wasn’t satisfied.

“C’mon Princess, you can do better. Nii-San had to wait a whole day before he could touch you again. I wanna hear you beg a little harder,” he said. You gave in and cried out for him.

“Please! Please just fuck me. I want you- need you so bad! Please I need your cock to fuck me! Please Nii-San!” You begged. A blush adorned your face as you felt the heat in your cheeks burn due to embarrassment. You didn’t even realize Katsuki align himself with your entrance until he kissed your cheek to snap you out of your embarrassed state.

“That’s my good little princess.” He said and slammed himself into you. Last time, Katsuki gave you a second to adjust to his length, but this time he’s been waiting and holding himself back for months now. And today, he didn’t allow himself to touch you at all, and so he went right to it and began his hard, steady thrust. His speed was incredible and he was fucking you so hard the bed was hitting the wall. “S-Shit! My little slut like that? Does she like having her- fuck- her big brother’s cock balls deep inside of her?”

“Yes, Please! M-More!” You cried out. Katsuki wrapped your legs around his bare waist and slammed into you even harder. His hand went to grip his headboard as he fucked you into oblivion. His thrust had you seeing stars as he reached a sensitive spot. “Oh my god! Yes! Y-Yes Katsuki right there-“

Katsuki slightly smacked your face as your head turned to the side. You moaned at the tingling sensation and you felt his thrust become faster and his hand wrapped around your throat. He squeezed it as he spoke to you through shut teeth.

“Not my name, Y/N. Try again,” he warned. You felt your tongue roll out as you attempted to speak but his thrust only brought out moans. “Say it!”

“Nii-San!” You cried out. He kissed you deeply as his hand went to grab at your chest. Your pussy squeezed him so tightly his head dropped next to your shoulder.

“Fuck Princess! Oh god you’re squeezing me nice and tight. Mmmm, I’m gonna wreck this pretty little pussy. Ahh-“ Bakugou’s hips jerked a little as your cunt tightened at his words. His grip on the headboard got stronger until he broke it. He looked up to see the damage and cursed at it. He threw it to the side as he placed both hands on your rips.

“Shit, shit, shit...God yess!” He cried out with his head thrown back. Your hands went his back as your claws marked him. He was gonna feel that in the morning, but as of right now, it was nothing but pleasure.

The feeling in your stomach returned and you felt your high coming.

“I’m- IM CUMMING!” He sped up and went deeper, forcing your release. You came around his cock but Katsuki didn’t stop.

Due to the wait, Katsuki was much more sensitive that he usually would be. He knew he would be cumming quicker than he thought and sadly, his fun would have to end soon.

“Oh god, princess I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna fill up that sweet pussy with all my cum. You want that?,” he smacked your face again as his hand wrapped around your throat once more, “you want me to fuck my kids in you? Huh? Pump my load right inside your womb and give you my brat. Bet you would love that, right princess?” He said and smacked your ass once more.

His hips stuttered and his thrusts became sloppy as he met his climax. His hot cum filled your Pussy and you cried out at the feeling. He moaned with his head thrown back as he pumped you full. The feeling of his semen dripping out of you had you shivering. He stilled before he pulled out and watched his cum drip out of you. He smiled at the sight and went to lay next to you. He pulled you closer into his chest as you both allowed heavy breaths to be released.

As Bakugou almost settled he felt your hand grab his cock again. You began to pump his length more and he began moaning with teary eyes.

“N-No, princess please. S’too much. F-fuck, I can’t!” He cried out as you went faster. You smirked as you watched his blush grow stronger. His hard on returned again and his cock rose from the friction. You straddled his lap again and placed his tip at your entrance. You leaned in closer as you spoke.

“I’m not done yet, Nii-San.” You said and slammed down on his cock. Katsuki loudly moaned and cried out as you sped up your bounce.

“F-fuck! Fuck Princess I can’t! Oh god- I have nothing else! P-please!” He begged. “Too much! Too sensitive!”

You continued to bounce on him and ride his dick as he moaned in immense pleasure. The overstimulation had him going insane. Soon, he did a full 180 and begged for more instead of less.

“Ah..Ah! Fuck! Don’t...don’t stop Y/N! Yeeaahhh bounce on that cock! AH! God yes!” His hands gripped at your waist as you continued your movements.

“Mm, Nii-San your cock feels so good~” you moaned out.

“Yeah?” He asked as his face got closer.

“Mhmm,” you nodded as you both quickly went in for a desperate kiss. You both sucked at each other’s faces as you continued to fuck his cock. The thrusts kept on until your thighs began to shake and you both felt another release coming.

“Sh-it, cumming! I’m cumming! Ohh fuck! M’Gonna shoot blades inside ya!” You slid up and down vigorously until both of you released.

“N-NII-SAN!” You said with your hands on his shoulders and head thrown back. As you both finished, you grinded on his hips.

“Heh,” you both laughed out as you made out once more. You both stilled your movements as Bakugou pulled you off his cock but kept you in his lap. You both had heavy huffs as your breaths settled and a comforting silence overtook the room. You drew little shapes on his naked chest as he smiled towards the ceiling. He finally had his dream girl...sorta.

After a brief period of silence, you spoke again.

“Umm...Katsuki?” You asked. He opened his eyes and looked at you. He kissed your forehead before he spoke.

“Yes princess?”

“What now?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He said as he continued to look down at you.

“...what are we?” You said looking at him with doe eyes. He showed a small smiled as he held you tighter.

“Well, you’re mine now and I’m yours. That’s what we are.” He said with a comforting look. You smiled back at your new title. His. It sounded nice. But there was something else that obviously complicated the matter.

“But...but what about our parents...this family?” Bakugou sat up and had you look at him as you sat in his lap.

“Let’s run away, Y/N.” He said with all the seriousness in the world. Your eyes went wide at his offer.

“W-what?” You asked. There was no way he was being serious.

“Let’s run away. You and me. We’ll go somewhere where no one knows us. And we’ll get to be together without any problems.” He explained.

You continued to stare. Running away? From your dad? From a family you finally had after so many years. As you thought about it, nothing but Katsuki came into mind. You smiled as you realized you didn’t need them. You just needed him. Katsuki would be your family, Katsuki would be all you need. Were you going to stay for your family that you’ve only had for a few months? Were you going to stay for a dad who neglected you for a decade? Why do that when you could just run away with the love of your life and be together, be a family, and be happy?

“Run away with me Y/N,” he spoke, snapping you out of your trance.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Let’s go, Katsuki.” He smiled back at you and you both shared a kiss, filled with love and happiness. You cuddled into each other as you both fell asleep in pure bliss. He was your family, he was all you needed.

As the days went on, almost 3 months have passed. You and Katsuki have been together for almost 3 months, not as step siblings, but as a couple, and you’ve never been happier. On the Sunday of the last week on the third month, you and Katsuki packed your things. Throughout the months, you and Katsuki have found an apartment to stay in far away from this town and prepped everything to leave. You guys had finally packed your things and placed them in Katsuki’s car. You placed a letter for both your parents explaining you both decided to leave and that this is what you both really wanted. You also mentioned that you both would be fine and would prefer if they didn’t go out to look for you both. You grabbed your final bag and looked at your old home until Katsuki came and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Ready to go, babe?” He asked.

“Let’s go!” You both shared a quick kiss and then went to his car. He drove off and you were finally happy. Katsuki kept a hold of your hand as he drove, giving it a quick kiss from time to time, earning a little giggle from you. And you? You finally realized. Your relationship was so wrong. But you didn’t care. You loved Katsuki and he loved you. Now you were both together and happy after all these past months of living together as siblings and crushing on each other for years before that.

So if this relationship was wrong, then you didn’t wanna be right.

You both eventually arrive to the other side of the city and begin moving boxes in to the new apartment. It’s been a long day so you decided to just leave the boxes in the kitchen and living area and work on the bedroom. You both unpacked your clothing and set up the bathroom. You put your sheets on and finished styling the bedroom.

It was dark by the time you guys were done with the bathroom and bedroom and you and Katsuki had just finished washing up and getting in bed. You both cuddled in as some random movie softly played on the TV as background noise. This was..home.

“You know something, princess?” Bakugou randomly spoke.

“Hm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, im still gonna do it, but I realized I won’t have to put a ring on you to get you to change your last name,” he chuckled out.

“Uh!” You both laughed as you smacked his chest. He held you closer before he spoke again.

“I’m serious though, when I marry you, we won’t have to go through the whole ‘changing your name’ thing.” He said.

“You’re that sure you’re gonna choose me to marry?” You asked.

“I know for a fact that I’m marrying you, Princess. It’s never been anyone else but you.” He admitted as he got lost in your E/C eyes.

You awed at his compliment and cuddled in closer after you pecked his cheek. The room met with silence once more and a comforting aura filled the air. You reveled in the feeling and just smiled.

“Suki?” You spoke up.

“Yes?” He asked.

“.....I love you.”

Bakugou looked down to you, tilted your chin up so your lips could meet his. He sent his love through the small skin contact and when he separated, he gave you a sweet smile that was reserved just for you.

“Not as much as I love you, Y/N.” You both held loving looks as he tucked you back under his chin and wrapped you in his arms. Yeah, your relationship with your step brother was taboo, but you honestly couldn’t care less. You loved him and he loved you. You were away from all the problems that would come with the relationship and you both were the happiest you guys could have ever been.

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[interstellarflowers]

Professor Parker Ch. 1| Professor, Peter Parker x Student, Reader

a/n this fic doesn’t follow the marvel cinematic universe but assume that peter has been what he’s been through with the exception that tony lived, and bruce is still bruce, sorry but i just can't deal with endgame hulk/bruce rn emotionally or mentally. im sorry nat is still dead but dw i'll actually treat it with respect unlike endgame like goddamn where was her funeral, am i right? the stages of grief thing they did was interesting though. im sorry i digress, this is set in nyc (because heyo im a new yorka) and the avengers/stark tower is still a thing, peter is fucking traumatized and has turned kind of cold as a result. this fic may contain a smut chapter in the future? not sure yet, where this fic goes depends on the feedback, thanks for reading also sorry im not the proudest of this first chapter so ill probably edit it but promise itll only improve from here just not in the best mental state rn

University life wasn’t exactly everything that you imagined it to be. There was hardly time to do anything that people claimed was good about coming to university. The parties, the epic heartbreaks, and romances, they were just nowhere to be seen. In fact, there was nothing particularly extravagant about your experience thus far. You went to class, studied, and went to your internship. Your internship was probably the most exciting thing about your life at the moment, you were lucky to be accepted into the Stark Industries student internship, the company paid college tuition and only required around twenty hours of lab work a week, you couldn’t complain. Of course, the exciting part of the whole ordeal was the name attached to it, “Stark,” not that you had ever met him, but it was nice to have a unique feature like that in such an impressive student body.

So here you were on the first day of your third year of university. You lived off-campus, about a five-minute walk from the Stark Tower, but a twenty-minute subway ride to your campus. However, having an 882 square foot space to yourself was really nothing you could truly complain about despite the distance. The studio apartment being yet another benefit reaped from Stark Industries. Thank you Tony Stark, the unseen benevolent God in your life.

Typically you would start your mornings off quietly and in no rush, a shower, a cup of coffee, maybe some studying before heading off to your campus, but your phone had other plans for you today. Instead of your alarm going off like it was supposed to, you were woken up by the sound of a particularly loud car horn, and oh how grateful you were for that. As soon as you were jolted awake you shifted to grab your phone and turned it over to see an alarming 8:40am glaring back at you.

Holy shit. You were late.

You scrambled out of bed nearly face planting several times in your hurry to get dressed and only barely ran out the door with everything you needed at 8:47am.

By the time you managed to get to the subway and clamor onto the right train it was already 8:55am. Out of breath and panicking, you considered your options. You could explain after class, you could shoot an email, there were a plethora of things you could do but none of them seemed to justify being late as a third-year to a level 500 class. You had googled all of your professors while registering for classes as was common practice. You couldn’t find a RateMyProfessor on Professor...Parker? You were pretty sure it was Professor Parker, but you do remember seeing on the STEM department page that he was currently a Ph.D. student, so you could only hope that as a fellow student he would be at least a little understanding towards your lateness.

You stood outside of the lecture hall huffing and trying to catch your breath at 9:32am, psyching yourself up, you pushed open the door to the class and attempted to go unnoticed. The class was in a lecture hall despite being only composed of around thirty students, so if you were lucky maybe nobody would even see-

“Ms.(y/l/n), I presume?.” Shit.

“Professor Parker?” Shit.

“You are aware that class starts at 9am, and not 9:30am, would this be correct Ms.(y/l/n)?”

“Yes, Professor, it’s just that I had an emergency.” The lying route. Not exactly the highlight of your academic career.

“I regret to inform you that I only take valid excuses Ms.(y/l/n), please take a seat, and next time, don’t bother disrupting class halfway through the lesson.” Fuck. You mustered a quiet “ok,” and a small nod before escorting yourself to the back of the room, thirty-something eyes following you until you sat down.

You couldn’t focus for the rest of the class, it was just too embarrassing, time moved forward but you couldn’t help but be stuck on what had just happened. For the first ten minutes after sitting down you felt like dropping out of the whole class out of sheer fucking humiliation. This was of course before you reminded yourself that this class was a requirement to graduate in your field of study. You quietly bargained with yourself before sighing quietly and settling on the conclusion that Professor Parker was just a dick. A dick who certainly didn’t deserve the satisfaction of you switching out of his class. If he wanted to be like that, you decided, you would simply return the favor.

“I know, Ms.(y/ln), why don’t you tell us DeBroglie’s equation?”

“With pleasure, Professor Parker.” Yeah, you’d return the favor alright.

“Ms.(y/l/n), you stay.” Fuck that. You looked the other way and feigned ignorance as you kept making your way towards the door. About to leave, the door shut on your face.

“What the fuck!” You jumped before turning around and you felt your face heat up.

“Ms.(y/l/n), please refrain from using profanities in my classroom.”

“I’m sorry Professor Parker. I was just startled.”

“Mhm,” he took his glasses off and laid them on his desk, “Just don’t do it in the future Ms.(y/l/n).”

“Of course. My name is (y/n), by the way, Professor Parker, you can just call me that, actually, I prefer that people refer to me by (y/n).”

“Rest assured, I’m aware of your name, Ms.(y/l/n). My name is Peter, but you can continue to call me Professor Parker.” You could have sworn that you saw a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He knew what he was fucking doing, asshole. You held back from rolling your eyes into the back of your head.

“Of course, Professor Parker.”

“As you know, Ms.(y/l/n), I did request that you stay after class.”

“Oh? I sincerely apologize Professor Parker, I really didn’t hear you.”

“I’m sure, Ms.(y/l/n).” Fucking. Dick.

“Well, what exactly did you want Professor Parker? I do have another class soon.” Professor Parker narrowed his eyes at you in obvious distaste before reaching behind himself into a bin underneath his desk and pulling out a stack of papers,

“These are the handouts you missed from the beginning of the class. Textbook requirements, syllabus...Crucial information to have if you care to succeed in my class Ms.(y/l/n).” So coldly, so maliciously, Professor Parker placed the stack into your arms.

“I take my work very seriously, Ms.(y/l/n), I do my part as your professor so I only have the simple request that my students do the same.” You nodded feeling your face heat up again.

“Of course, Professor Parker, it won’t happen again,” you said with a tightlipped smile.

“Mhm,” Professor Parker turned around and began shuffling around some paper and without giving you a second glance said, “You are dismissed.” You nodded and hurriedly made your way out of his classroom. Of course, you had lied. You didn’t have another class until late in the afternoon. So you called your coworker instead,

“Hey, Harvey.”

“(y/n).”

“Wow, okay, don’t get too excited.”

“Sorry, just woke up.”

“Tsk, the early bird gets the worm, Harvey.”

“I don’t want a worm.”

“Fuck you. I’m headed to the lab, can I expect you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You had been working with Harvey for around four years now, he was quite the impressive specimen, having attended MIT and graduating Summa Cum Laude at age 20 was no easy feat, he was closer to Tony Stark than you would ever get, he was quite personable, and you couldn’t deny that he was quite good looking. You’d never tell him that though, he didn’t need another ego boost. Besides, you had some connections of your own.

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Banner!”

“Can we expect Harvey today?”

“Honestly, not sure.” You both knowingly smiled at each other before you made your way over to what he was working on,

“Do you ever get bored here?”

“With you and the other idiot always running around? How could I?” You laughed,

“No, seriously, like wouldn’t you rather be doing nerd shit with Tony or something? Isn’t it a little tiresome babysitting us?”

“Tiring? Maybe sometimes, but not nearly as tiring as doing ‘nerd shit’ with Tony. He’s exhausting,” Bruce smiled at his own joke, “I don’t mind playing babysitter at all kid.” He fiddled with the handle of a mug that read, “Don’t be so Na Cl,” which you had gotten him a year back as a joke, but he still used it.

You really loved Bruce for all he was. Since losing your family back in 2012 during the battle in NYC, you didn’t really have any familial figures. But since landing this internship you found yourself with a parental figure again, and you would never be able to put into words how much it meant to you, so you didn’t. Besides, you didn’t want him to feel pressured about it, especially after everything he had been through himself. Frying half your body and losing the love of your life in such a short span of time was really nothing less than horrifying. Yet, here he was, smiling, laughing...You loved him for it.

“First day of junior year? How was that?”

“Shit.”

“Huh?” Bruce stopped tinkering with the device in his hands and looked over at you, “I’ve never heard of a course being too hard for (y/n) (y/l/n), what is it? Aerospace? Quantum?”

“No, just one giant dick.”

“Pardon-”

“My professor, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“Ah, I see. If he’s really harassing you (y/n), I don’t mean to overstep, I really think we should alert administration, what’s his name?” Bruce took a sip of his coffee.

“Professor Parker,” Bruce choked on his coffee, “Oh my God, Bruce, are you okay?”

“Yeah-” he said, still coughing, “Just a little too strong.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce caught his breath, “What did he do kid?”

“He’s just a dick that’s all.”

“You sure you don’t want me to do something about it?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I don’t know what you could do anyways. Thank you though.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised.”

Sitting at your desk stressing over school work at 3am, it was nothing out of the ordinary for you. Everything appeared ordinary. The ordinary cup of tea, the familiar glow of your computer, and a morning chill creeping through your window. It was all so breathtakingly normal until there was a rap on your window. You took an earbud out of your ear, certain you were just hearing things, you looked to your window. Holy shit.

You opened your window wide so that he could crawl in.

“(y/n)?”

“Mr.Spiderman.” Still too in shock to fully process the situation you started to take in the scene in front of you,

“Please, it’s just Spiderman.”

“Oh-Oh my God, what happened?” Head to toe the suit seemed to have blood seeping through, tears in the body of the suit revealed gashes and a bullet wound.

“Bad guys. I know this guy-said he knew a medical student close by, you are (y/n)? Right?”

“Y-Yeah, but I’m really just a student, I’m not really a prof-”

“This guy, he said you might as well be.”

“I don’t know Mr.Spiderman, really, maybe I could take you to the hospital though.”

“-Spiderman, it’s just Spiderman, listen, (y/n), you know I can’t go to a hospital, it would ruin this whole secret identity thing I got going on here, and this guy, he’s probably the smartest guy I know, so if he says you can handle it, you can.” You swallowed and nodded,

“Yeah-” you wring your hands together, “Yeah-Sorry, let me go get my first aid kit.”

#tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #bruce banner #tony stark #iron man #idk #sorry #ill prolly rewrite this seven times

[astringofmadhousefloozies]

On Illness and Recovery, or: Sickfic, Baby!

You know the drill! Please let me know if you liked it, and check my Twisted Wonderland fanfiction tag if you want other shit I’ve done.

Contains coarse language and emotional whiplash.

~*~*~*~

Some things stay true no matter where you are; the truest, right now? Schools are disgusting fucking petri dishes, as your miserable cold will tell you. Your cough had only been getting worse as the days went on, with it came exhaustion and a chill that wouldn't leave your bones. You should probably be holed up in your dorm instead of going to class, but that had it's own issues that you were struggling to solve.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat." Grimm's nose, and little else, poked out from a pile of blankets on your bed.

"Nowhere close. Shh." You taped the last bit of plastic over the balcony entryway, and swapped the roll of tape for a heavy duty stapler. "Hold that right there."

The skull-faced ghost held a packing blanket over the plastic as you stapled it in place. By the time you were done, you couldn't see much, which at least meant you could no longer see your own breath. Maybe now, you would be able to feel your own fingers.

Ah, they joys of your own rotten, ancient place - you wake up with frost on your bedsheets and your washbasin shattered from the ice within it. There were other rooms in the place, but most had holes in the ceiling or were too big to heat effectively. So now, you were going to live in one room, that you'd yet to figure out how to run electricity to, and only leave for class or the bathroom. Even if you were ill, could anyone blame you for still going to class when your own home had a nasty quirk of being even colder than outside?

Anywho, it was time to do some homework. By the light of an oil lamp. In five layers of clothing. Curled up so close to a tiny fire you might as well be inside of it. While your not-a-cat complained the whole time.

Yaaaaaaay.

~*~*~*~

"You really should be resting."

You scoffed. "You just feel bad because you're the one who got me sick."

"You can't prove that, everyone's had a cold the past few weeks."

"No one else has been exploring my tonsils, dude."

Idia clapped a hand on your mouth, which you did not lick solely because you were wearing a cloth mask. "Quiet! That's secret intel."

"What? No it's not, everyone knows."

"I don't want to advertise. Then I'm a raid boss and you're the rare loot drop."

You elbowed him in his boney ribs. "No one's going to kick your ass out of jealousy. Just because I'm the hottest bitch in this place doesn't mean I've got universal appeal."

"You're still the only girl and people are weird about it." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and winced. "You're too warm."

"How can you tell? You've got gloves on."

"That's how bad it is. I'll make some tea."

"I'm not drinking anything out of the damned lab equipment."

He frowned. "I've never had anything bad happen, it's cleaned correctly."

"You're smarter than that. One of these days you're going to grow a tail due to residue in the glassware, and I'm going to haul you around in front of god and everyone by it, going 'I told you so' the entire time."

He blanched, knowing that that was not an idle threat, and someone laughed. "I think I should make that happen, just so we can see that."

"Jade, no. No magic mushrooms for my man, or any other concoctionary bullshit either."

Idia looked ready to die, so to take attention off of him you leaned over and poked Silver awake before he fell face first in the potion he was working on. Logically, you know his narcolepsy was debilitating. Right now, you wish you could have borrowed it last night. You don't remember walking up during the night, but you must have, because why else would you be so tired?

He started up, mumbled "thank you" and went back to stirring as if he hadn't been about to drown in dubious magichemicals. God, you wished that was you right now.

"Idia, deal. You help me get through this class, I'll grab some hot food and go home."

He made a show of hemming and hawing before saying, "Grimm needs to let me hold him when I drop you off, and I will."

Ordinarily, you would have just said "Ask him yourself and don't be weird about it," and Grimm would have simply told him no until sufficiently bribed. But Grimm was still in bed at home, saying you kept him up all night, so instead you bumped Idia with your hip and said "What, you can't think to ask for better pussy to fondle?"

Of course, you just had to say something crass at the moment where everyone went quiet. Even Crewel raised his head and both eyebrows at you. The only reason you didn't get a riding crop to the face and a week in horny detention (where, you assumed, they punished you for being a bad girl indeed) was Idia, rapidly going through every stage of confusion and grief, with a few currently unknown to man. You'd intended to tease him, but that sheer amount of confused, horny misery on his face was just too much, and you laughed so hard you bent over.

And coughed. In a short time, there was no laughter left, only miserable coughing from the depths of your chest that left you on the floor with your eyes watering. Someone thumped your back a few times, and when you yanked your mask off to catch a proper, if shallow breath, your mask was full of a red-streaked, pus coloured slime.

A fur coat was draped over your shoulders as everyone made various noises of disgust. "Class dismissed. Let's get you to the nurses."

~*~*~*~

"How in hell are you still mobile."

"Pettiness and a desire to not freeze to death."

Crewel narrowed his eyes at you. "Both lungs."

"That is what double pneumonia means, Professor."

You could see his whip fingers itching. "Yes, well. You can't come to class like that. And... Is it really that bad in Ramshackle?"

Idia raised a hand. "It was really cold the last time I was there."

"Ugh. I told Crowley we should have razed the place for an expansion on my dog run." He looked at you with a curious mix of genuine fondness and even more genuine disgust. "I'm not putting you up until your place gets fixed, you'll leak all over my furniture. Anyone here going to babysit?"

"I've done perfectly fine in my own dorm, I don't need to become the pet of another dorm."

"Those little fairies said that if you don't stay on bedrest and stay warm, you will die. I am not filling out that paperwork." He looked to you classmates. "Speak up or I'm docking a letter grade."

Silver raised a hand. "I think we could do it but I don't think D- Lilia would let me. Malleus would end up trying to play nurse and skip class."

"Oh god, no, we don't tell him I'm sick until I'm safely ensconced somewhere, he would lose his damn mind and I'd try to strangle him after a week of it."

"There are no spare rooms in Octanivelle. However, I could try some experimental medicines I've been-"

"Jade, no."

Idia was quiet, before speaking up. "I... I don't know if Ignihyde has a spare room, or would be good for healing."

He'd not left your side since your collapse, and gone so full of writhing, barely concealed anxiety he'd broke through the other side and simply shut off. You didn't get it, it wasn't actually anything serious. The nurses had pumped you full of medicine, you'd be up and about a week or two at the most, instead of the month's worth of hospital rooms and bad food it would have been.

Crewel sighed. "Time to start checking the files to see where you can be squeezed."

There was a cough, from the fifth student so quiet despite his size. Everyone had honestly forgotten he was there.

When he spoke up, it was to you, and not anyone else. "There's an unoccupied room down the hall from me. I think the weather in the Savannahclaw dorms will be good for your health. You shouldn't have to stay where you won't be wanted, or get sicker. Would that work?"

You looked at him, assessing. You and him hadn't talked overmuch, and he didn't seem to mind. But as severe as he looked? You could see the sincerity in his offer.

"That should work. Jack, right?"

His ears flicked, and his tail twitched. "Yes."

"Thank you, Jack. You're very kind."

~*~*~*~

Easy to see why the room was empty. You suspected it might have been a storage room, or that there had been a monastic order in the dorm at one point. A single bed just fit the far wall, with a chair, a desk, a bureau, and little else. But the far wall had a large window, and the room felt... nice. And a hell of a lot warmer than than your room in Ramshackle.

"It'll make an excellent sickroom." You set your schoolbag and an entire case of tissues on the desk. "Thank you again, Jack. You sure it won't be any trouble?"

"I've already cleared it with our dorm leader, he said he doesn't care as long as you don't rub phlegm on his things." Jack was a solid block of frown and muscle in the corner. "The window does open, you should keep it that way for circulation. There's a bathroom down the hall, there's showers in there. If you need anything or anyone tries to bother you, please let me know."

"Will do." You were already unpacking the few things in your bag, trying to get them arranged before another coughing fit took you.

"I can help get your things, if you need?" For a dude who was very do-that-shit-yourself, he was being very helpful.

"Idia's grabbing Grimm and anything else I'll need. He'll know what I want."

"I see." Silence, and more interesting ear flicks. "So."

"So?"

"You and him are..." He made a guesture with interlaced fingers.

"Yeah. Jealous?"

He snorted. "No. Just curious. He's a bit..." Hand wiggle.

"I'm a bit too. It works. Would have been nice if he'd gotten the hint before I had a ghost turn me inside out in front of him and everyone else."

"You know that's why you're so sick, right?"

You made a noise that was hard to decipher, that he used as cue to continue. "You never smelled quite right after that happened. Even after the healing. You're always a little..." He moved his hands, trying to grasp the right simile. "Like when a flower's starting to drop petals. Overripe."

How in the hell were you supposed to take that. What do you even say to that? Does everyone know you smell? Does - 

"Oh god, you all know when I'm on the rag."

A single, curt nod, and you put your head in your hands and groaned.

~*~*~*~

A knock on the door

"Who is it?"

"Your worst enemy."

"Get your ass in here, Vil."

Vil had on... good lord. Mask, gloves, face shield. An absurdly fashionable CDC agent. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Vil. Means so much coming from you."

He stayed by the door, ready to flee if a spare germ came floating towards him. "Heard you're out of commission. Thank the seven, I'll get some peace in my life."

You flipped him the bird, but smiled as you did. "Don't say that. I'll made a sheet ladder and mix sputum in your cold cream."

"If you do that I will personally burn your clothes and replace them with something decent that you will hate."

"Try. Come to gloat?"

"Just a bit." He set a large cup with a straw at the very edge of the desk, straining at arm's length as he did. "This should unfuck your throat somewhat."

"Such language!" You waited until he retreated to the door before you took the smoothie. It was... very, very purple, and smelled minty. "Trying to poison me, finally?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I decide to poison you, it's not going to be through something that obvious. You will never see it coming, and then I'll sell your corpse to Floyd and everyone will just think he finally decided to go full crazy and Riddle is next."

You snorted. "Honestly? I think he'd shit his pants if I actually returned the affection. One time I saw Riddle give him a genuine smile and he had to go sit down because he started shaking so bad." That might have been because the smile was caused by Floyd cracking his head on a doorway and falling flat on his ass, but the point still stood.

When he stopped laughing, he turned to leave. "Take at least an extra week to get better, for my sanity. And don't give the creature any, it won't agree with him."

"Shh, I just got him down for his nap-"

Grimm made a horrible snort from your feet and say up. "Food?"

You made a look-what-you-did guesture at Vil, but he left instead of helping you deal with your beloved yowling idiot.

~*~*~*~

You woke up coughing in the dark. It took entirely too long for you to figure out where the hell you were, and why, and you took the offered tissue with great-

"JaySUS FUCKING CHRIST" You jumped back so much it was only Malleus's grip on your arm that kept you from going through the open window.

"People are sleeping, please do not yell."

"Don't yell my ass, how long have you been there?"

He shrugged. "Since before sunset. Ortho was here first."

You leaned around Mal, to see Ortho sitting on the desk, scritching the belly of a drowsing Grimm. "Hello, Yuu. Your fever has gone down half of a degree since I took over."

The audacity of these idiots, you swear. "Both of you go home and go to bed."

"No. You need watching." Mal had not blinked once since you'd woken up, and how about that? His eyes glowed in the dark, or he had very strong eyeshine; either way, there was no iris around the blown out pupil. "You are very ill and need taken care of. I can do that, I took care of Silver when he was ill."

"Mal."

"Yes?"

"Do we need another boundaries talk?"

He frowned. "But you are ill."

"Mal, I will call Lilia and tell him what you are doing right now. I will personally write your grandmother and tell her you're neglecting your studies. I will get Leona down here and he will call you a simp until you go outside and fight him on compulsion."

"Those all sound terrible!"

"Ortho, don't kiss up because you're next. Why are you here and not home charging?"

"Idia wouldn't go home to sleep until I said I would let him know if you got worse."

You opened your mouth, and shut it again. Why's he so worried? You had to physically shove him out the door to go to his next class, looking like his heart would break, and he'd still skipped board games to fidget miserably in the chair Mal now sat in, looking ready to burst into tears every time you coughed.

Ortho seemed to read your mind. "He gets worried when people get sick. I got sick once."

Ah. That explained a hell of a lot that you were too polite to ask.

"... Okay, you can stay."

Mal perked up.

"You go home. I'll never go back to sleep if you keep staring all night, and you do need to sleep some."

Mal's face fell.

"You can come back tomorrow, after class."

He perked back up. "Goodnight, Yuu. I will see you tomorrow!" A brief kiss against your sweating temple, and he was out the same window he most likely came in.

"Hey, Ortho?"

"Yes?"

"If you can dim your lights a little, you can come lie down with me."

~*~*~*~

You were rudely poked awake by a giant asshole.

"Why are you in my nap room." Leona hovered over you with obvious displeasure.

You blinked and sorted yourself. Ortho was crammed between you and the window, hopefully dreaming of electric sheep, and Grimm was still dead asleep, the little bastard. "Jack put me up here because my dorm's a block of ice and I can't stay there on doctor's orders." Crewel might have a doctorate, it's not a lie.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I did." Jack was behind him, his own link in a chain of hovering displeasure. "You said it was fine as long as she didn't make a mess. I brought yogurt."

"Thank you-" More miserable coughing, with now everyone either rubbing your back or passing you tissues. Except Leona, who simply held back and watched. By the time you were done, he just nodded.

"I'm not moving you, but..."

"What."

"I'm calling in a favour next time Cheka gets pawned off on me. He likes you."

You'd argue that, but you liked the kid. "Aight. Everyone get out, there's too many fucking people in here and I'm discovering new and interesting depths of claustrophobia."

Leona didn't need to be told twice.

"I'll be back after class with your homework. Maybe at lunch with something. Not before then. Stay put."

"Oooo, oo. I'm going with you, big guy." Grimm scampered over. "I'll get bored here all day. You can just nap."

You rolled your eyes "I can just nap. Jack, if he sticks with you, he's going to want to eat everything you do."

"I'll manage."

"Would you like me to stay?" Ortho was finally up, or maybe you hadn't noticed him exiting screensaver mode.

"I'd like you to tell your brother that I'm not going anywhere. Use those exact words."

He nodded, a faint whirr as he did.

"I'll see you guys later, okay? I need more sleep."

~*~*~*~

Someone gently shook you awake, and said someone was leaning in the window.

"Hey, Kalim." Why'd you have to be the center of attention when sick, and therefore couldn't kiss anyone to thank them for said attention.

"Hi! I asked Jamil to make extra lunch for you!" He set a covered dish on your knees.

"Thank you. Was he okay with that?"

"He was when I said it was for you. Everyone's heard that you're laid up!"

"News travels fast. Am I about to get even more popular?"

"You're always popular because you're great. Feel better! Jamil said he'll have extras tomorrow too. See you!" And off he went.

You needed to tell Jamil thank you, but he would probably just tell you to just stop talking about abolishing the monarchy instead. (Not because he didn't support the idea, but because he didn't want to be punished for not keeping the idea from Kalim.) What did he make, anyway?

"Oh, curry. Sweet."

~*~*~*~

The days progressed roughly the same. Drowsing most of the morning, lunch, more drowsing in between laptop stuff, maybe actual sleep. Coughing up far less gunk as the days went on. And entertaining an absurd fucking amount of people. Everyone seemed determined to check on you, even people who you'd never seen before in your life; Ruggie made something like 10k madol charging people to try and see you through the window before you cursed him out. Your Heartslabyul boys dropped in every couple of days to relate shit that they hadn't simply texted you (along with a pile of pastries from Trey and handwritten instructions on recovery from Riddle, the latter far less appreciated than the former). Floyd dropped in once to mostly complain about how you weren't around to eat the mushrooms he picked out of his food, tried to convince you to let him carry you over to the Monstro Lounge himself, and when you refused, kissed the tips of your fingers and left pouting. Jack, true to his word, dropped in at least twice a day to deliver food and homework, and once spent forty-five minutes glowering at anyone approaching the bathrooms while you took a shower that ached on your oversensitive skin.

Some people were far more regular. Every day like clockwork, Malleus perched in your window and was the world's friendliest, most affectionate vulture. Twenty minutes after that, Idia would come in, sit in the chair, and exude such concentrated grief that you were at a loss for what to do beyond asking if he wanted to talk about it, to which he would shake his head and simply resume sitting there, tapping away at his screens until the next panicked flurry of activity every time you made a unhealthy noise.

"You are allowed to go home. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm much better than I was."

He just shook his head.

"I will come get you if something happens," Mal offered.

More head shaking, and a "no" from his tablet, before adding, "Never again."

"I'll call Ortho and make him tag you out."

"I said no. And Ortho is with Lilia."

Lilia, small, beloved pest, has what you like to think of as a compulsive need to parent. He was god knows how old, had raised at least three of your classmates that you know of, and seemed to consider you his newest fledgling. After hearing about what happened, he'd taken it into his own hands to fix Ramshackle to... well, not OSHA compliance, but you wouldn't be cold.

"Does he know how much I appreciate it? Appreciate all of you, really?"

"Of course he does. He loves talking about you. He wears that shirt you made all the time."

"Which one? I've made him seven so far."

"When do I get one?"

"When they make T shirts that'll fit over your horns." Something drooped in the corner of your eye, and you looked over to see Idia shaking himself upright. "Hey, babe. When was the last time you slept?"

He took an embarrassingly long time to lie through his teeth and say "Last night" through his tablet.

"Yeah, no. Get over here." You took a moment to drag Mal's hand down before he could just do a sleeping spell, or something equally well meaning but deeply inappropriate.

"No."

"Please?"

You held your arms out until he couldn't resist, and soon you'd arranged his head on your chest.

"You hear anything more sloshing around in there?"

He shook his head.

"I am on the mend. I... don't really know what happened before. And I sure as hell don't know what you did to get him back. But I'm not going anywhere. So rest." 

He gave a faint nod.

"I will wake you, if need be?"

To both yours and Mal's surprise, Idia answered him with a pat on his leg.

"Thank you."

Idia was already asleep.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what 'cyanosis' is?" You’d been stroking Idia's head for hours. Or minutes. Time flies, and you could not tell the difference.

"Not immediately, no."

"It's caused by a few different things. Hypoxia, hypothermia, that sort of thing. The blood in you doesn't have enough oxygen. So little that, instead of red, parts of your body turn blue or grey due to the lack of oxygen."

"I see." He looked intently, much as you did, at Idia's greyish nails and blue lips. "That doesn't seem survivable."

"Not if it's severe, no." The flames from Idia's head curled around your fingers, grasping at you even when he's not aware of it. "It's not something you see on someone as... lively as him. It's something I think about a lot. Whether it's to do with his magic, or that curse he won't elaborate on."

"I've heard rumours."

"Oh?"

"The Shroud family curse. Nothing concrete, for an origin. Madness, misfortune, and illness have plagued the family throughout history. Add in a trend of cousin marriage beyond the norm for upper-class families due to people not wanting to subject their loved ones to a cursed bloodline, and the tree is more of an notorious, ingrown shrub."

"That just sounds like shitty genetics and what happens to every family as the years go on, not a curse."

Mal shrugged. "is there a difference? Even in the sleeping curse my grandmother bestowed so easily, much of the power came for the fear of it. A girl grew up without her family because of the fear of it."

"True." You leaned down and kissed the top of Idia's head, feeling an unconscious smile as you did. "There must be a little hereditary something. He gets so anxious about this beautiful hair! He hates people looking at him, and he doesn't even realize it's because he's the most beautiful thing in any room he walks in."

"Thing?" Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Even the finest art in a museum doesn't have the benefit of being actually alive."

"Your capacity for love and beauty is enviable. Hunt would be jealous." He reached out and brushed a stray lock away from Idia's face, and you could feel another smile against your chest.

~*~*~*~

"Aight, so we've patched up holes in the walls, insulated the windows - Idia here," Lilia clapped Idia on the small of his back, causing him to make a distressed squeak - "smart boy, found some solar panels and we've got electricity up in your room, the kitchen and the bathroom by your room, not just the front room anymore! The rest we got the ghosts to help seal off to hold the heat in. I got you a space heater for your room, so you don't have to do a fire the whole time, and as long as you don't open the windows back up before spring, you won't freeze."

"Thanks, guys. One question."

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to my room."

Lilia smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a walking prank and can't keep out of there, what did you do."

"Nothing this time! I promise!" He held his hands up. "At least you can stay home for the next few days, Crewel says you gotta be back Monday or he's going to start making funeral prep."

"I'm literally better, but if he does that I get to help. Always wanted to plan my funeral, I have very specific ideas about what flowers to use and preferred corpse disposal."

"Maybe you should go upstairs and not talk about funerals and their associated things."

"Sure thing, dear."

After settling in your room, most everyone cleared out, even Idia. The only person still there was Jack, looking this way and that with a stern look.

"Hey, Jack?"

He grunted in assent.

"So like, why'd you put me up and help take care of me? We've hardly talked before then."

He sighed. "You've been very nice to me."

"You sure? I'd remember you."

"Uh."

"Jack?"

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day, if chilly in the wind. The sun was warm, the trees turning, and you just came across one of your best friends.

"Hi buddy! Are you lost today?"

The very large dog shook it's head and pressed into your knees.

"Okay, you wanna walk with me? Come on."

You'd found this enormous white Malamute wandering campus the first time a few months ago, and after checking in with a few other students who kept laughing when you asked if he was their dog, simply decided to enjoy your new friend and run and play. He was very smart, and initially standoffish, but could not resist a friendly face and good ear scritches. Today, you and Buddy here simply ran around like a couple of idiots after a lost soccer ball until it was time to go eat.

"I'll see you later, buddy. Bye!" You held out a hand, and after a firm shake, kissed the point where his snout met the rest of his face. "Stay safe, I love you."

Buddy made a low grumble and rubbed his paws over his face, and you went off to supper.

~*~*~*~

"You couldn't have told me?"

"How do you explain that? 'Hey, I run around as a wolf sometimes and you mistook me for a lost dog so you lovebombed me and I was at a loss and by the second time it was too awkward to say anything'?"

"I've been playing with you for months! I let you run with Crewel's dalmatians!"

"I run with them as a person, too, that's nothing special."

You pinched your nose. "Everyone must think I'm an idiot."

"I'll deal with them. I'm sorry, Yuu."

"I know. You are my good boy, after all."

His tail started wagging in spite of itself, and you laughed.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #jack howl #idia shroud #malleus draconia

[morceid]

Apple Cider

SPENCER REID X DEREK MORGAN

Summary: Derek makes apple cider while Spencer sleeps through a nightmare

Word Count: 1040

Category: whump

Content Warnings: grief, kidnapping, loss, spoilers for season 2-12, drug use, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i told you i was making apple cider

Spencer had nightmares. It was something common within the BAU. You spend all day chasing murderers, you’re gonna have dreams that they’re chasing you. Night terrors might have been a better word for what Spencer experienced. He went through five different stages during his dreams. Impending fear, the calm before the storm, downfall, false hope, and finally, he has to let go of it all.

Spencer knew that the nightmares were a metaphor for his life, but it was something he knew he would be working on forever, and that at the moment there would be nothing to do about it.

Usually Derek was there to wake him before downfall, but sometimes Spencer was too far into REM to be awoken and had already dissociated from the reality that he normally awoke to, which brings us to now.

Derek and Spencer decided to use their vacation days and rent out a cabin. It was nearing fall and the trees were turning orange, and the Virginia winds became colder. When they entered the cabin around noon after an entire night of driving, Derek decided to make some apple cider for the two of them. Spencer, who hadn’t gotten any sleep despite his position in the passenger seat, went straight for the bedroom and settled into the clean sheets, falling asleep instantly.

He was sitting in the passenger seat of a car again. He was smaller and felt more uncomfortable than before. Looking forward, the only thing for miles was the Las Vegas desert. A metaphor for his childhood and the impending fear he felt all through it.

Nothing really happened in this part of the nightmares. There was never anybody driving the car, just him sitting, waiting for the heavy machinery to swerve into the desert full of cacti and huge ravines that hid in every dune of sand. Occasionally he would begin to talk to himself. The only noise that he heard was “No Children” by The Mountain Goats blasting from the car radio. He usually turned it off after the song cycled through around three times. Lately he had just let it play, knowing and hoping Derek would be there to wake him soon, and he did this time too.

The calm before the storm was much quicker than impending fear. It mostly consisted of watching moments during college and his early years at the BAU. High school graduation, late nights studying, joking around with Derek and Elle in the bullpen, his date with JJ, and staying the night with Derek after he brought chinese food to his apartment. Everything he had grown to love about his life passed by as if on a screen in a movie theatre as “Dramamine” by Modest Mouse played in his head. It was Spencer’s muttering of familiar words that were in past conversations with Derek that caused him to be woken up by his partner on most nights, but now Derek was in the shower, the flowing water too loud to hear the words that had escaped Spencer’s mind through his mouth.

Downfall was the worst of them all. It seemed as though he was actually descending into a bottomless hole in the bed, much like the feeling you get right before drifting to sleep. Around him, seemingly on computer screens much like thrones in New York City, his memories of the shack in the graveyard played. HIs whole body panged with hurt all over. In the crook of his elbow, the soles of his feet, and the sides of his head. His stomach hurt and turned and twisted. He was cold and just wanted the warmth of his team to be there. This was when he thrashed in his sleep. He often woke up to Derek screaming his name in reassurance, but not now. Derek was at the dollar store they saw on the road to the cabin getting ingredients for an actual dinner that could be prepared and served with the cider. The images floating around Spencer began changing, to the first time he overdosed and Derek had to bring him to the hospital, to when he openly compared an arsonist to a drug addict in front of a police precinct full of officers, and to when he lashed out at Emily outside of a homeless shelter.

And then he was in a field of flowers. He wasn’t here very often but when he was he knew it wouldn’t last long. “pity party” by lovelytheband played on a loop, coming through nonexistent speakers. All the moments he had shared with the people in his life flashed through his mind as he walked through the field. All of the nights he had cuddling on the couch with Derek watching new episodes of Doctor Who while Penelope sat on a nearby chair, cooing at their closeness. All the times Emily got bored during a long night at work and threw Spencer a paper ball with her scribbly handwriting detailing what she was thinking about. Most of the time it was the dates she wanted to plan with JJ.

Spencer stopped walking and looked up. A cobblestone arch was before him. The last part of the nightmare. “LETTING GO” was in big block letters was written on the arch in russian. He looked down at his shoes. He had never gotten this far before, but he walked through the arch anyways. It led into a cemetery. Each headstone had the name of someone who had betrayed or abandoned him at some point. Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, William Reid, Maeve Donovan, and Alex Blake. There was a chess table in the middle of the six headstones. He walked over and sat down. He moved a white pawn, and a black pawn was moved on the other side of the table by no one. The game went on, and it seemed never ending. And it was.

“No, no, no!” Spencer cried out. He felt Derek’s hands on his forearms as he began to wake up.

“Hey, hey. Spencer, it’s okay.” Derek’s soothing voice gently rocked Spencer fully awake and calmed him down.

Then Spencer remembered. How could he forget the one good part of his nightmares?

“I finished the apple cider.”

The aftermath.

#moreid #spencer reid #derek morgan #jason gideon #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #william reid #maeve donovan #alex blake #jennifer jareau #jemily (mentioned) #spencer reid x derek morgan #tw grief #tw death #tw drug use #tw kidnapping #tw anxiety #tw nightmares #criminal minds #criminal minds whump #spencer reid whump #derek morgan whump #fanfiction #fanfic #moreid fanfic

[magnetictapedatastorage]

I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

Full text of the (excellent) article is under the cut. (The Atlantic, March 8th, 2021)

I first became aware that I was losing my mind in late December. It was a Friday night, the start of my 40-somethingth pandemic weekend: Hours and hours with no work to distract me, and outside temperatures prohibitive of anything other than staying in. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to fill the time. “What did I used to … do on weekends?” I asked my boyfriend, like a soap-opera amnesiac. He couldn’t really remember either.

Since then, I can’t stop noticing all the things I’m forgetting. Sometimes I grasp at a word or a name. Sometimes I walk into the kitchen and find myself bewildered as to why I am there. (At one point during the writing of this article, I absentmindedly cleaned my glasses with nail-polish remover.) Other times, the forgetting feels like someone is taking a chisel to the bedrock of my brain, prying everything loose. I’ve started keeping a list of questions, remnants of a past life that I now need a beat or two to remember, if I can remember at all: What time do parties end? How tall is my boss? What does a bar smell like? Are babies heavy? Does my dentist have a mustache? On what street was the good sandwich place near work, the one that toasted its bread? How much does a movie popcorn cost? What do people talk about when they don’t have a global disaster to talk about all the time? You have to wear high heels the whole night? It’s more baffling than distressing, most of the time.

RECOMMENDED READING

There’s No Real Reason to Eat 3 Meals a DayAMANDA MULL

The Pandemic’s Future Hangs in SuspenseTHE COVID TRACKING PROJECT

A Quite Possibly Wonderful SummerJAMES HAMBLIN

Everywhere I turn, the fog of forgetting has crept in. A friend of mine recently confessed that the morning routine he’d comfortably maintained for a decade—wake up before 7, shower, dress, get on the subway—now feels unimaginable on a literal level: He cannot put himself back there. Another has forgotten how to tie a tie. A co-worker isn’t sure her toddler remembers what it’s like to go shopping in a store. The comedian Kylie Brakeman made a joke video of herself attempting to recall pre-pandemic life, the mania flashing across her face: “You know what I miss, is, like, those night restaurants that served alcohol. What were those called?” she asks. “And there were those, like, big men outside who would check your credit card to make sure you were 41?”

Read: Sedentary pandemic life is bad for our happiness

Jen George, a community-college teacher from Cape Elizabeth, Maine, told me she is losing her train of thought in the middle of a sentence more and more often. Meanwhile, her third grader, who is attending in-person school, keeps leaving his books, papers, and lunch at home. Inny Ekeolu, a 19-year-old student from Ireland, says she has found herself forgetting how to do things she used to do on a regular basis: swiping her bus pass, paying for groceries. Recently she came across a photo of a close friend she hadn’t seen since lockdown and found that she couldn’t recognize her. “It wasn’t like I had forgotten her existence,” she told me. “But if I had bypassed her on the street, I wouldn’t have said hi.” Rachel Kowert, a research psychologist in Ottawa, used to have a standing Friday-night dinner with her neighbors—and went completely blank when one of them recently mentioned it. “It was really shocking,” Kowert told me. “This was something I really loved, and had done for a long time, and I had totally forgotten.”

This is the fog of late pandemic, and it is brutal. In the spring, we joked about the Before Times, but they were still within reach, easily accessible in our shorter-term memories. In the summer and fall, with restrictions loosening and temperatures rising, we were able to replicate some of what life used to be like, at least in an adulterated form: outdoor drinks, a day at the beach. But now, in the cold, dark, featureless middle of our pandemic winter, we can neither remember what life was like before nor imagine what it’ll be like after.

To some degree, this is a natural adaptation. The sunniest optimist would point out that all this forgetting is evidence of the resilience of our species. Humans forget a great deal of what happens to us, and we tend to do it pretty quickly—after the first 24 hours or so. “Our brains are very good at learning different things and forgetting the things that are not a priority,” Tina Franklin, a neuroscientist at Georgia Tech, told me. As the pandemic has taught us new habits and made old ones obsolete, our brains have essentially put actions like taking the bus and going to restaurants in deep storage, and placed social distancing and coughing into our elbows near the front of the closet. When our habits change back, presumably so will our recall.

That’s the good news. The pandemic is still too young to have yielded rigorous, peer-reviewed studies about its effects on cognitive function. But the brain scientists I spoke with told me they can extrapolate based on earlier work about trauma, boredom, stress, and inactivity, all of which do a host of very bad things to a mammal’s brain.

“We’re all walking around with some mild cognitive impairment,” said Mike Yassa, a neuroscientist at UC Irvine. “Based on everything we know about the brain, two of the things that are really good for it are physical activity and novelty. A thing that’s very bad for it is chronic and perpetual stress.” Living through a pandemic—even for those who are doing so in relative comfort—“is exposing people to microdoses of unpredictable stress all the time,” said Franklin, whose research has shown that stress changes the brain regions that control executive function, learning, and memory.

That stress doesn’t necessarily feel like a panic attack or a bender or a sleepless night, though of course it can. Sometimes it feels like nothing at all. “It’s like a heaviness, like you’re waking up to more of the same, and it’s never going to change,” George told me, when I asked what her pandemic anxiety felt like. “Like wading through something thicker than water. Maybe a tar pit.” She misses the sound of voices.

Prolonged boredom is, somewhat paradoxically, hugely stressful, Franklin said. Our brains hate it. “What’s very clear in the literature is that environmental enrichment—being outside of your home, bumping into people, commuting, all of these changes that we are collectively being deprived of—is very associated with synaptic plasticity,” the brain’s inherent ability to generate new connections and learn new things, she said. In the 1960s, the neuroscientist Marian Diamond conducted a series of experiments on rats in an attempt to understand how environment affects cognitive function. Time after time, the rats raised in “enriched” cages—ones with toys and playmates—performed better at mazes.

Ultimately, said Natasha Rajah, a psychology professor at McGill University, in Montreal, our winter of forgetting may be attributable to any number of overlapping factors. “There’s just so much going on: It could be the stress, it could be the grief, it could be the boredom, it could be depression,” she said. “It sounds pretty grim, doesn’t it?”

The share of Americans reporting symptoms of anxiety disorder, depressive disorder, or both roughly quadrupled from June 2019 to December 2020, according to a Census Bureau study released late last year. What’s more, we simply don’t know the long-term effects of collective, sustained grief. Longitudinal studies of survivors of Chernobyl, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina show elevated rates of mental-health problems, in some cases lasting for more than a decade.

I have a job that allows me to work from home, an immune system and a set of neurotransmitters that tend to function pretty well, a support network, a savings account, decent Wi-Fi, plenty of hand sanitizer. I have experienced the pandemic from a position of obscene privilege, and on any given day I’d rank my mental health somewhere north of “fine.” And yet I feel like I have spent the past year being pushed through a pasta extruder. I wake up groggy and spend every day moving from the couch to the dining-room table to the bed and back. At some point night falls, and at some point after that I close work-related browser windows and open leisure-related ones. I miss my little rat friends, but I am usually too tired to call them.

Read: The most likely timeline for life to return to normal

Sometimes I imagine myself as a Sim, a diamond-shaped cursor hovering above my head as I go about my day. Tasks appear, and I do them. Mealtimes come, and I eat. Needs arise, and I meet them. I have a finite suite of moods, a limited number of possible activities, a set of strings being pulled from far offscreen. Everything is two-dimensional, fake, uncanny. My world is as big as my apartment, which is not very big at all.

“We’re trapped in our dollhouses,” said Kowert, the psychologist from Ottawa, who studies video games. “It’s just about surviving, not thriving. No one is working at their highest capacity.” She has played The Sims on and off for years, but she always gives up after a while—it’s too repetitive.

Earlier versions of The Sims had an autonomous memory function, according to Marina DelGreco, a staff writer for Game Rant. But in The Sims 3, the system was buggy; it bloated file sizes and caused players’ saved progress to delete. So The Sims 4, released in 2014, does not automatically create memories. PC users can manually enter them, and Sims can temporarily feel feelings: happy, tense, flirty. But for the most part, a Sim is a hollow vessel, more like a machine than a living thing.

The game itself doesn’t have a term for this, but the internet does: “smooth brain,” or sometimes “head empty,” which I first started noticing sometime last summer. Today, the TikTok user @smoothbrainb1tch has nearly 100,000 followers, and stoners on Twitter are marveling at the fact that their “silky smooth brain” was once capable of calculus.

This is, to be clear, meant to be an aspirational state. It’s the step after galaxy brain, because the only thing better than being a genius in a pandemic is being intellectually unencumbered by mass grief. People are celebrating “smooth brain Saturday” and chasing the ideal summer vibe: “smooth skin, smooth brain.” One frequently reposted meme shows a photograph of a glossy, raw chicken breast, with the caption “Cant think=no sad .” This is juxtaposed against a biology-textbook picture of a healthy brain, which is wrinkled, oddly translucent, and the color of canned tuna. The choice seems obvious.

Some Saturday not too long from now, I will go to a party or a bar or even a wedding. Maybe I’ll hold a baby, and maybe it will be heavy. Inevitably, I will kick my shoes off at some point. I won’t have to wonder about what I do on weekends, because I’ll be doing it. I’ll kiss my friends and try their drinks and marvel at how everyone is still the same, but a little different, after the year we all had. My brain won’t be smooth anymore, but being wrinkly won’t feel so bad. My synapses will be made plastic by the complicated, strange, utterly novel experience of being alive again, human again. I can’t wait.

ELLEN CUSHING

is the special-projects editor at The Atlantic.

#health

[behindheremeraldeyes]

title: duty calls chapter 2

[ch.1] [ffnet] [ao3]

summary: It’s been a while since the Uchiha moved out of her apartment, and so far, living with his best friend has proved itself to be quite the challenge. The pandemic was still far from over, and though they were both following the orders and staying inside, their hearts ached for the one who had to stay out there.

.

a/n: It’s finally here! Chapter 2 of Duty Calls, as we were all expecting it, and I just gotta thank you all for the wonderful feedback I’ve received after posting chapter 1! Here in Brazil, things are still far from being controlled, and though my family is fine, It’s still overwhelming to see all the numbers rising every day. I’ve tried to use a bit of my experience to continue this story and even if I know it was my way of coping, I understand that, for someone else, it might be too much, so take it easy, ok? Times are though, for sure, but we’ll get through this! Again, I hope you enjoy this fic, and as always, I would love to know your opinion on it! 

.

.

.

And in a matter of 3 weeks, the city of Konoha was no longer the same.

Though safety measures had been taken and people had been careful, it all proved itself pointless once the first case of the new coronavirus was confirmed. The patient was a young man, around his thirties, who had just returned from a business trip to the Sand Country. The protocols were followed and he was isolated from the rest of the society, but by the time the sanitary agents had finished talking to his neighbours, the second case was confirmed, and eventually, the third, fourth, tenth and the hundredth. The numbers wouldn’t stop as countless new cases were popping up every day, and it was possible to see the silent fear that had taken over the city.

At first, the infection was nothing but a faraway reality to most citizens. It was just something people were talking about on the news and no one really felt like it had anything to do with them. They thought it would never happen to them. However, the virus got closer, to the point where everyone knew of someone who tested positive. Most stories, sure, were about asymptomatic people who had nothing more than a headache, but whenever those stories escalated— whenever someone they knew ended up unconscious and with a tube down their throat— that was when people got really afraid.

In every district, rough metal doors now decorated the streets, and instead of colourful shop windows inviting the costumers to come inside, only closed signs and motivating messages could be seen. “It will pass”, “we will get through this”, “stay inside” and so many others that would only be seen by those who had a good reason to leave the safety of their houses. Those messages— and so many other entertaining initiatives suggested by digital influencers and famous artists—, for sure, were very uplifting at the beginning of the whole pandemic, when most people actually believed everything would be solved in a week or two.

Up until then, the COVID-19 was nothing but a global adventure for those who weren’t sick— or at least didn’t know they were—and it would be over before anyone got the chance to even become bored. It would be a chance to take a break from everything and sleep until noon for a couple of days before life returned to normal.

'Soon it would all be over', they said, and people were truly satisfied with just that.

'Soon'.

But as the days went by and the situation started to go south, people realized that their precious ‘soon’ would take longer than any of them had initially planned. 

By the end of March, people weren’t as excited as they used to be, and now, as everyone watched as Spring went by through closed windows, hope was no longer a familiar feeling and fear had invaded most of the residences around the city. The citizens had turned pessimistic regarding the uncertain future, and some of them were even going through the 7 stages of grief as they mourned their long-lost life.

Times were tough. For those who could stay at home and for those who couldn’t but forced themselves to, times were really tough. 

Even for those who don’t usually go out that much, staying stuck inside 4 walls was proving itself to be quite the challenge. Staring at the same things and at the same people— if there even were people— was starting to take its toll on everyone, and there were days when it was just too much. Sure, every case was a case and people reacted differently to the current situation, but eventually, everyone was due to get sick of that life.

And Uchiha Sasuke was no exception. 

After his girlfriend kicked him out in order to protect him, the raven haired boy ended up staying with his best friend. For they were always together, Naruto’s guest-room was basically the Uchiha's spare room, and it’s proven itself quite useful whenever he and the pinkette engaged in one of their lover’s spat. 

They didn’t fight much, but when they did—well— it was better to stay out of it.

Still, even if he didn’t have to spend two months sleeping on a couch, to say sharing the apartment with the blonde was easy would be a huge lie. They’re too different, both of them. Though best friends since they were in their dippers, both Sasuke and Naruto have very strong personalities and it doesn’t take much for them to start a fight. They’re stubborn, hot-headed and neither of them would even dream about admitting to be mistaken. In other words, chances were that they would end up killing each other before the end of the quarantine.

The Uchiha needed space. He needed a full day without listening to that annoying ‘dattebayo!’ or seeing those ramen cups pilling up all over the sink. The blonde wouldn’t move a finger to help with the chores, and if it depended on him, the trash would stay there until it decomposed itself. Naruto is a slob and living with him has made Sasuke reconsider his early life choices. 

How could someone who leaves his unwashed clothes all around the place be his best friend? 

Their friendship, as the Uchiha concluded, was not meant to be put to test like that. They should have never been forced to share the same roof for more than 7 days and the pandemic was nowhere near its end.

There was no way both of them would survive another month together. They had to do something. They had to talk things through and establish some rules in order to make that whole experience less traumatic. Sasuke was more than aware of that, but there was just no way he would be the first to suggest anything, no.

Naruto would have to grow up and admit to be a failure as a productive member of the society.

And until that happened, the only thing the raven haired boy could do was sulk. Sulk and take long showers so he could completely ignore Naruto’s existence for a while.

Yes, those long showers were probably the one thing keeping the Uchiha from murdering his best friend, and right now, he was really glad to be taking one. The warm water running down his skin, soothing his muscles and taking his mind away from the messy apartment. During his showers, he could, for once, think clearly about what was happening in the world, and most importantly, what was probably happening to his girlfriend.

What could she be doing at that moment? Was the hospital already crowded? Was she okay?

Though they face-timed every day, it still wasn’t enough for him to ask all the questions that haunted his dreams and to just talk about nothing in order to make up for the lost time. Day after day, whenever her pretty face showed up on his computer screen, Sasuke could feel a heavy weight being lifted from his chest. Normally, she would be smiling and her bright, emerald eyes would shine brighter whenever he said anything about wanting to kill Naruto in his sleep. 

After talking about their respective days, he would ask her if she was eating and sleeping properly, and even if she would always try to change the subject at that point, he would glare at her until she talked so he could scold her for being irresponsible. He would, then, ask her if she needed anything and tell her to go get some rest before the call ended. They never parted with a ‘goodbye’, choosing, instead, to say ‘I'll see you soon”. Even though they had never really talked about the reason behind that choice of words, through the silent glances exchanged by their eyes, it was possible to tell they both knew it.

Oh, they knew it too well. For she is a front-liner and he is no fool, they knew better than to just believe things would be solved in a matter of days. It would be long until they could finally meet face to face again— until they could feel their hands brushing against one another and the scent of their bodies pressed tight— so they figured that, in the midst of the chaos that was now wiping the world, they could allow themselves to be fooled by a white lie. 

Their soon would come. When, they didn’t know, but it would come before either of them could say goodbye.

Though the hot water was doing wonders to both his body and soul, the Uchiha knew he couldn't stay there forever. After releasing a defeated sigh, he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. Water was still dripping from his hair as he dried his body, and the steam surrounding him clouded the mirror and every glassy object inside the bathroom. Apparently, he had spent too much time in there this time, he thought, but couldn’t find it in himself to care. He ran his fingers through his soaking, dark locks, ruffling them a bit as to prevent them from sticking to his face. He took a deep breath, then, and finally decided to leave his private, sacred shrine.

With no rush or excitement, the door finally opened and all the steam came out with him. The towel was still wrapped around his hips, and silently, the Uchiha started to make his way towards the bedroom. The apartment was quiet, at first, and he wondered if the Uzumaki went to the convenience store in order to buy more of that industrialized ramen he loves so much. Even if both him and Sakura were always telling him that he shouldn’t leave the house unless it was very important, Naruto apparently considered ramen a vital necessity.

He really is an idiot, Sasuke thought, as he was getting closer to his room. His hand was about to reach out for the doorknob, but before he could turn it—

“Ha! You look really funny like that-ttebayo! Have you ever worn so many clothes? And can’t you take some of them off?”

The Uchiha stopped. It was Naruto’s voice, and apparently, he was talking to someone. Dark eyes widened for an instance when he realized that it was coming from inside of his room, and before he could act on that, Sasuke allowed his best-friend the benefit of doubt regarding his reasons to be there.

Could the dobe be having a private conversation with someone? Was it work related or could he be chatting with a girl? That idiot should better not be doing anything disgusting or—

“Okay, I see that you have to go now. As soon as he leaves his beauty shower, I’ll let Teme know you called. Bye-bye, Sakura-chan!”

Sakura, Sasuke thought, as his heart skipped a beat. Why was she calling at such hour? It hadn’t even been 5 hours since her last shift had ended, so what was she doing awake at that moment? There was something wrong, he thought. He really should ask her and—

Shit.

His mouth went agape as soon as he remembered Naruto’s ‘bye-bye’ and before he could even think, the door was already flying open.

“Oi, Naruto, don’t hang up—“

“Ah!” Naruto screamed, blue eyes widening as he rolled over the bed and fell on the floor. Luckily, he was wearing wireless earphones, so the computer— Sasuke’s computer— didn’t share the blonde’s fate. 

“Tch.” Sasuke scoffed, clearly not caring if Naruto was fine or not. He walked pass the blonde in order to reach his computer, but his efforts proved useless for the call had already ended. The Uchiha closed his eyes in annoyance, cursing himself— and Naruto— for not being able to talk to the pinkette. For a couple of seconds, he kept staring at his computer screen, wondering if he should call her back or not.

What if it was an emergency? No, Naruto wouldn’t have been so calm if that had been the case. Maybe she just needed something from him? But that could wait until after she had slept. Thanks to his current state of overprotection towards her, his mind was playing tricks on him and nothing seemed logic.

What could she possibly want from him? And why wasn’t she calling from her usual ID? Could it be that she had been robbed or—

“Ouch!” The blonde said, sitting with his legs crossed on the floor. “Why the hell did you scare me like that, teme!? That hurt-ttebayo!”

“Stop whining like a child, Naruto. Why the hell didn't you tell me Sakura was calling?”

“Because you were taking your precious shower.”

“So what?”

“Last time I interrupted your you-time, you scolded me for hours and told me never to do that again!”

“But this was Sakura calling. It was important!”

“So was that documentary about koalas!”

“You are an idiot, Naruto!” The Uchiha sighed, walking towards the desk near his bed to reach out for his phone. He was clearly aware that trying to discuss that matter with the blonde would lead to nothing, so he decided to just skip all that nonsense. “I'm just gonna call Sakura and ask her myself.”

“Don’t sweat it. She won’t answer you-ttebayo.”

“And why not?”

“Because she’s finally opened her eyes to see the big jerk you are.”

“Naruto!”

He giggled. It was always too easy. "She's busy right now.”

“Busy?” He lifted his brows in confusion, checking the hour on his phone just to make sure. “Why is she busy right now? She said she wasn’t be going back to the hospital until later tonight.”

“Yeah…about that” Naruto started, scratching his cheek with one finger. “She said there was a problem at the hospital and she had to go cover for someone who tested positive.”

“What? Did she have to go now?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “In fact, she even called from the hospital computer. I barely recognized her with all of those masks and glasses. I took a screen shot of her for future blackmail-ttebayo!”

“Fuck.” He cursed, closing his eyes in pure annoyance and using his fingers to massage his temples. Apart from the dobe’s stupid idea of fun, knowing his girlfriend was already back in the hospital made his heart feel heavier inside his chest.

If they were asking her to get back and cover for someone, Sasuke figured things were probably getting worse out there. It was expected for some health professionals— if not most of them— to be contaminated, but seeing a person who’s always working so close to other various diseases being defeated by this virus was never really easy. In fact, whenever that happened, the entire world was silenced.

Another soldier was down. Another health worker, just like Sakura, who would be lucky enough if they were able to stay home and healthy for 14 days.

Knowing things like that were happening so close to his girlfriend and knowing she would be the one suffering the consequences left him even more worried. She was probably still tired from the previous night, and knowing her like he does, Sasuke was sure she wasn’t even aware of that. Haruno Sakura is a workaholic, has always been. She loves her job and she’s one hell of a good doctor, but all that love and dedication has taken its toll on her life many times before.

For working has become her coping mechanism, Sakura tended to forget about herself whenever the hospital demanded more from her, and now, during the pandemic, things were no different. In fact, they were getting worse and worse by the day, and even if Sasuke called her every day to guarantee she was doing well, it was not the same as when he could actually be there.

She was ignoring herself, he knew. On March 28th, when they called her in order to wish her a happy birthday, the pinkette didn’t even know what day it was. He had scolded her for that, sure, but he knew it was useless. She was going to keep working herself to the bones, and the only thing he could do was face-time her during dinner time.

Really helpful, he thought, bitterly. Still, it was better than nothing. Every victory against workaholic Sakura was already a great victory, and considering the current scenario, it was all he could do.

Almost all.

“Did she say anything else, Dobe?” He asked, his voice filled with displeasure. 

“Oh, right!” He nodded, eagerly. “She also asked you to order her some groceries online since she won’t have time to go to the supermarket herself.”

“Hn.” The Uchiha started, sitting on his bed and getting his laptop in order to access the website of her usual grocery store. Since the beginning of the pandemic, that small shop near her apartment has developed a delivery service for usual customers, and they were even making a special offer for people who were still out there. It was really nice to see so many people looking out for each other, and on behalf of his girlfriend, he could only thank those kinds of initiatives.

“Oh! And she also said not to pay for her. She told you to use her credit-card or else she will be pissed like last time-ttebayo!”

“Tch. That audio she sent me was unnecessary.”

“I thought it was very hilarious.”

“Shut up.” Sasuke pouted, his eyes staring at the screen and choosing the items. 

“Heh” Naruto smirked, crawling so he could approach the Uchiha. "What are you gonna buy her, Teme?”

“The essential, of course.”

“Essential?!” The blonde repeated, a bit exasperatedly. “Jeez, teme! Let me see it.” The blonde stated, reaching for Sasuke’s computer in order to see what he was adding to the cart.

“Oi, knock it off!”

“Onions, tomatoes, vegetables, raw meat… You really don’t know how to buy food, bastard.”

“What? I don’t see what’s the matter with these things. It’s what I usually buy for us. It’s enough to prepare good and healthy meals.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they are, but you’re forgetting something very important.”

“Oh, really? And what is it?”

“We have time to cook. And when I say we, I mean you.” He started, with a grin on his face. “She probably gets home exhausted most of the days and she definitely doesn't have enough energy to cook, so you have to buy something easy to prepare."

“Are you saying we should buy her a stock of frozen food and instant ramen; and ignore all the rest?” He said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. 

“Well, not a stock, but she definitely needs some frozen food and some bowls of instant ramen."

“She needs to eat properly, dumbass!”

“She needs to eat, bastard!” the blonde started, and even if the tone of his voice didn’t change much, somehow, the Uchiha could see the concern hidden in his words. Though he knew he wasn’t the only one worried about Sakura’s safety, sometimes, he tended to forget Naruto could also be a decent person in times of need. “Once she has enough energy and time to prepare decent meals, then we will worry about the properly part.”

“Hn.” Sasuke closed his eyes for a second before giving the blonde his usual stoic face. “I’m gonna put on some clothes. Don’t spend too much on this crap or else she will be mad and I will blame you.”

“Yosh!” A smile showed up on the Uzumaki’s face as he scrolled around the shop’s website. After spending some time isolated and helping his older neighbours with the groceries, Naruto knew exactly what he should buy for his girl-best-friend and he knew she would be thankful for a bowl of ramen whenever she got home and didn’t feel like cooking.

And so, even if leaving Naruto unsupervised around his things was quite a risky decision, Sasuke put on his clothes and left the room. He had his phone with him, and as soon as the blonde said he was finished, the Uchiha sent his girlfriend a message.

‘Groceries Ordered. Call me when you get home.’

After sending it, his dark eyes kept staring at her picture, a longing feeling taking over his heart. Sasuke remembered when she took that picture of herself, and mostly, he remembered how happy they all were while having dinner at Naruto’s favourite restaurant. It was just the three of them for the night, and even if he normally hates crowded places, for the first time, he hadn’t been bothered by the people around them. They were all laughing and her smile that night was brighter than all the lights of Konoha.

Her smile…

At that moment, in the middle of that mess, he couldn’t really recall when was the last time she truly smiled. In a matter of weeks, not only the pinkette, but all of them were deprived of reasons to be truly happy. They were worried, scared and too immersed in this pandemic to even think about happy.

Happy would happen after life got back to normal. Or, at least, as normal as it could get.

Without noticing, he took a deep breath, locking his phone screen and heading towards the kitchen so he could start preparing lunch. Waiting for a fast reply would be useless, he knew. Sakura barely had time to breath, let alone text someone; and using her phone at the hospital was yet another risk of taking the virus home. She would answer him when and if she could. And until then, he would do what he had to do.

As a normal citizen, he would continue to do his part. 

–––––––––––––––––––

Her reply didn’t arrive until later that day.

The clock was already striking past 11pm and the blonde had long succumbed to his dreams. The midnight edition of the national news was about to start, and if the Uchiha had to be honest, he didn’t even know why he had left the tv on the news channel in the first place. The stories were all the same, the cases were growing and people were being hospitalized. They were all the same— and he knew it— but he had decided to leave that on anyway, and right now, after his phone had buzzed inside his pocket, he realized he had probably drifted off at some point.

His eyes blinked slowly as they adjusted to the bright screen, and though he had just woken up from a nap, all of the sleepiness had disappeared as soon as he read the notification with her name. 

At last, he thought.

He used his fingerprint to unlock his phone and slowly, he stood up from the couch. He turned off the tv, and as he had started his way towards his room, he read the message she had just sent him.

‘I'm home. R u still up?’

‘Yeah' He answered, shortly, opening the door.

‘How about Naruto?’

‘Fast asleep.’

‘Ok. Is it too late for me to call you?’

Tch. Silly girl, he thought, clearly not even considering her concern. ’Turning on my computer. I’ll call you in a minute.’

‘Ok.’

While his computer loaded, the Uchiha made sure to connect his ear pods so they could have a private conversation. Though he was glad to know she was already home and answering his texts, he couldn’t seem to ignore that odd feeling growing inside his guts. He tried to shake it off while clicking the face-time icon, but it was of no use.

Maybe, he thought, it had something to do with the fact that he had just woken up. Maybe he was still a bit sleepy or, maybe, it was just a side effect from the pandemic playing tricks on him.

Yes, he was definitely overreacting, he concluded, as his ears were filled with those continuous beeps. Sakura was fine. She was certainly—

Oh, fuck.

As her image finally showed up on his computer screen, his eyes widened in pure shock and he was sure his sudden reaction didn't go unnoticed by his girlfriend. His lips slightly parted and he could feel his heart sinking inside his chest. Her face was red— swollen, even— and her eyes were bloodshot, emptied of any glimpse of light. Red, prominent lines were drawn across her face, going from the bridge of her nose and down until her chin, as they perfectly delineated the marks of the masks she had to wear during the whole day. Her lips were pale, filled with cracks, and though there were no tears at that moment, he could tell they were brimming her eyes.

The girl with the prettiest of the smiles and the brightest of the eyes was, at that moment, in the brink of a breakdown. She was biting her lower lip as if to hold back more tears and he could see the way her eyes fidgeted from the screen.

It was as if she couldn’t look him in the eyes, as if she was ashamed, guilty or even both. She looked so frail and uncharacteristic that, for a split of second, it felt as if that girl— that destroyed image that was meant to be Haruno Sakura— wasn’t her at all. He had never seen her like that, not even on her worst days. 

Sakura…What on earth had happened to her? 

After a couple of seconds spent in a deafening silence, the Uchiha bit the insides of his cheeks, forcing himself to break that state of pure horror. He blinked a couple of times, and then— only then— he was able to let his voice out. “What happened?”

No reply. Her lips started to tremble as she looked away from the computer, trying her best to recompose herself.

“Sakura.” He pressed. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, my, I can’t do this.” She looked at the screen, her body language growing anxious by the second, her hands reaching for the mousepad. “I-I knew I shouldn’t have called you, I’m sorry. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep.”

“What!? No! You’re clearly not fine. Don’t hang up!”

“I’m sorry, Sasuke-kun, I—“

“If you do, I’ll take my car and drive to your place right now, Sakura! Don’t hang up.” He said, firmly, and thankfully, that made her stop.

“I-I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“Tch, don’t be stupid. I told you to call me if anything happened.” His voice held somewhat of a rough tone, and for a second, he could see that roughness had managed to make her listen to him. He took a deep breath, then, and after what felt like an eternal pause, Sasuke decided to be the one to start the conversation again. “First of all, just answer me this…Are you safe?”

She nodded, slowly, as if her head felt too heavy above her shoulders. “Yeah.” Her voice came out as a whisper, and though it was too fast, it just felt too much. It felt troubled, and if he dared say, ashamed, as if her safety was something unfair. Condemnable, even.

“Talk to me, Sakura.” His voice got lower, though anger still boiled inside his veins. Sasuke knew better than to let those emotions get the best of him, but he couldn’t help but what to blame someone— the whole world, for all he cared— for the pinkette’s current state. She was falling apart, and though he could see her in a screen less than 30 centimetres away from him, it pained him to know she was miles away from his reach.

Her eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened again, it was as if she had gathered some courage to finally put her feelings into audible words. She breathed in and out, but still not really looking into the webcam of her computer. “We’ve registered the first deaths today.” She started, her voice was rough, and though she was trying to sound professional— one of her many coping techniques— her emotions were taking the best of her.  “And though it’s never easy to lose a patient, this time…Geez, It was so much worse.”

His heart skipped a beat at her words, and though he had listened to many of her hospital stories before, this one felt different. It felt heavier, macabre. “How worse?”

“We were making the rounds around the ICU when this guy, around his 70s, started calling our names. He sounded breathless and his oxygen levels started to drop so fast…” She bit her lip, her hand reaching out to her chest, clinging to her shirt. “He had been stable for three days already. He was making jokes and we even helped him call his wife yesterday because we were going to send him to a normal room, Sasuke-kun…But then, he suddenly couldn’t breath and—“ She paused, trying to find the next words as a tear slipped from her right eye. “—and when I saw it, my colleague was already intubating him and I was doing compressions because his heart had stopped, just like that.”

He could hear the sound of her exasperated breath, and for he knew she was still not done yet, Sasuke remained silent, giving her time to recollect her thoughts. There was still so much she had to let out. So much she had bottled up inside her chest and was now getting the best of her.

Such a strong woman. He wondered how much she had endured until it got that bad.

A muffled sob escaped her lips, and he knew she was ready— or anything remotely close to that— to continue her narrative. “He didn’t make it…We attested his death after half an hour or so, and now I remember looking at the people around me and we were just so…so taken back, you know? We weren’t expecting that outcome from that man, no. He was—“ Another tear slipped, and her voice cracked. “He was fine. He was recovering and he told his wife he was gonna go home. God, she cried so much on the phone when I told her.”

“Oh, Sakura…”

“But that was not all.” She swallowed, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Right after the impact of his death, a nurse called from the hallway, saying there was another patient in need of immediate assistance and… And we just left him there and it was as if we were relieving that whole thing, but with a woman around her 50s, instead.”

“And what happened to her?” He asked, lowly, though he was already sure of what her answer would be.

“We lost her, too.” She closed her eyes, dropping her head in mild despair. When she lifted it back, more tears were streaming down her face. “I knew we would not be able to save everyone from this virus and I knew there would be deaths, eventually, but…But I never thought we wouldn’t have time to mourn each of them. I thought we would have had time to think and to pay our respects before we were summoned again.” She gritted her teeth, anger now visibly spread across her exhausted featured. “Sasuke-kun, I thought things were going to be more humane even with those who died, but I was wrong! Now, they’re just numbers and there will be more like them soon. And their deaths will be on us!”

“Don’t even go there. It was not your fault and—“

“Yes, it was! We couldn’t save them, Sasuke-kun! And worse, we’re probably the ones spreading this crap out there! When we come home and when we go check other patients…This is on us."

“You’re wrong!”

“No, I’m not! People are scared of us, Sasuke-kun!!”

“What!? Who the hell would be stupid enough to be scared of you!?”

A smile filled with scorn and mockery took over her lips as she lifted her right hand. She was holding a white, small paper that looked like a post it, and as she turned it to the webcam, Sasuke just couldn’t believe what he was reading.

‘You’re gonna kill us all! Get out!’

His lips went agape as his mind tried to find the right words to describe what he was feeling. Seriously, how could people be so low? How could they be so cruel and insensitive towards another human-being who was just going home? These people really are beyond any salvation, he thought.

“I’ve found this note on my door when I got home today… And even if I don’t know whose handwriting is this, most of my neighbours are averting their eyes whenever I see them from afar… So, yeah, I guess I’m not imagining stuff."

“Sakura, you can’t let it get to you. These people don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Yes, they do, Sasuke-kun.” She spoke, a little louder now. “They’re trying to protect themselves by staying at home and I’m the one bringing the virus to them! They will get sick, and then…And then they will be just number, too.”

Bitter tears were now flowing down her face and he knew she had finally let go of the very last string that held back her emotions and her anxieties. She was sobbing furiously, now, and at that moment, he really hated himself for not being there with her. Though he understood everything and was even tired of hearing her voice lecturing him about staying away, fuck, he just wanted to stomp out of the apartment and go to her. There wasn’t much he could do, for he couldn’t really give her the answer she wanted, but watching from afar as she crumbled apart was just too painful.

It wasn’t fair. That virus wasn’t fair to its victims and it sure as hell wasn’t fair to the front-liners who had to see such horrors repeating themselves day after day. The lack of a cure, the pressure to save lives and the uncertainty of the days that were to come. Just like her, many health workers were feeling powerless and lost in the middle of that chaos, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. In fact, even though people on Tv were showing their gratitude towards those who couldn’t stop working, reality showed how fear corrupted the human heart to the point where they didn’t think twice before being assholes in order to try to protect themselves. 

Those were certainly rough times, where physical contact was banned, certainties were non-existent and there was no guarantee that anyone would find a solution before the next tragedy occurred.

The world was hurting. People were hurting.

But more importantly, for him, his girlfriend was hurting. And even if his heart was breaking for her, he knew he had to say something— anything— to help her get back on her feet. That was why she called, after all. She wanted his help since she was clearly not being able to manage it on her own. He had to help her. He had to be strong for both of them so she could once more be strong for those out there.

For she’s a practical and strong-willed woman, the Uchiha knew better than anyone that simple and heart-warming words would be of no use in order to calm her down, no. He would have to appeal to her good sense and her logical side. He had to remind her that, even if she was losing the battle, she was also the only one between them who stood a chance to win.

“Sakura.” He spoke, sounding firm so she could look at him. Her face had turned even redder due to the tears, and for an instance, he swore he saw her younger version who used to cry whenever the other kids were mean to her. He really had to bring her back. “What are you going to do now?”

“…What?”

“I've asked you, what are you going to do now?”

“I-I don’t know, I—“

"Are you going to give up?”

“Give up? No, I—“

"No doctor is forced to work during a pandemic if they don’t want to. You can quit, spend 14 days without leaving your apartment and then you can run back to your parents’. That’s an option.”

“Run back to my parents?” She asked, and the indignation behind her words gave him a certain hope that he was following the right direction.

“Yes. To be honest, I would feel quite better if you did it. Knowing you would be safe would spare me a lot of negative thoughts. We could even be together. That would be a good option, right?”

Through the cameras of their computers, they stared into each other’s eyes, and he made sure not to let his serious expression melt into a soft one. Dark eyes clashed against emerald ones, taunting them and daring the girl to take a stand. He was offering her a way out of that whole thing. He was showing her that there was another option if she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore.

Sakura could always give up and he had to make that option clear for her.

Clear enough so she could take the next step.

“Fuck you, Sasuke.”

Bingo.

Her eyes, though still red and a bit lifeless, were looking at him with a condemning stare. Though she had been looking like a child for the past hour or so, now he could finally see the traces of the mature woman she is. And even if it was still not enough to consider his job done, Sasuke could now hold onto something in order to bring her back.

“What? I’m just giving you an option.”

“No, you’re not.” She scoffed. “You know exactly what you’re doing, you jerk. You’re giving me a stupid option we both know I would never take just so you can make me feel less shitty.”

“Well…is it working?”

“…Maybe.” She said, softly, the tears now slowing down. “What will you do now?”

“Me? Hn, I should be the one saying this, don’t you think?” He looked at her with warmth in his eyes and he hoped she could feel it. “What are you going to do now, doctor?”

At first, she just stared at the screen, but slowly, her head started to move until she was nodding it up and down. Tears were still coming and her lips were still trembling, but she didn’t look that desperate or broken anymore, no. Sakura was slowly gathering her pieces, and he felt more relieved to see her like that. The pinkette took a deep breath, then, and he knew at that moment she had finally made up her mind. 

“Probably something stupid.” Her voice came out, softly and unsure.

'Now that’s the Sakura I know.’

“I'm going back.” She continued, lowly at first, as if to taste the sound of her words as they were thrown into the universe. “Shannarou, I’m going back to that hellhole because that’s the only place in the middle of this mess that makes me feel slightly better with myself. I’m going back because that’s my job.” Her voice came out with all the confidence he knew she would be able to muster that night, and he figured that was their small victory of the day. She didn’t look that scared anymore, and perhaps, she was getting ready to move on for the night.

“Tch, there’s something definitely wrong with you, Sakura.”

“Yeah…I guess there is.” She said, softly, wiping the last tears that were falling from her eyes. “I guess not even a pandemic will keep me from working too much.”

“You're probably right, but…” He offered her a comforting smile, looking away from the webcam for a second before returning his attention back to her eyes. “I'm proud of you.”

Judging by the way her emerald eyes widened, it was possible to say his words caught her by surprise. Apparently, tears started to pool around her eyes once more, but she stopped them before they could fall. Her lips slightly curled up at that, as in a shy reaction, and even if he normally wouldn’t have said that, well, he figured she was in need of those words.

“Thank you, Sasuke-kun. I don’t know what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for you.”

“Hn, that’s easy, you would’ve been stubborn like always. And though I’m sure you would’ve figured out what to do on your own, it might have taken you a little longer to reach that conclusion.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She started, tugging a strand of her pink hair behind her ear. “Damn it, maybe I really do need to start listening to you.”

“Better late than ever.”

Better late than ever, indeed. Slowly, she was coming to her senses and he knew there was nothing left for him to do. From that moment on, it was up to her, and more than anyone, he knew she would pull through it.

“Yeah…”

“Oh, and now that you’ve mentioned it, have you eaten anything already?”

“I guess not.” She bit her lip, her demeanor clearly showing she hadn’t even considered that until that moment.

“Tch, you’re worse than Naruto. Go eat something, will you? You need to refill your energies."

“Fine.” Sakura said, taking her laptop in hands as she started walking down her hallway and towards the kitchen. 

“Do I want to know when was the last time you ate?”

“Probably not.”

“Tch.”

She placed the device on her kitchen island and turned around to open her cabinet to grab a pan. “Come on, you’re the chef here…What can I do that is easy and good enough for your standards?”

At that moment, though he knew she was clearly teasing him, the Uchiha couldn’t help but remember the Dobe’s words earlier that day. And though he would normally not care about those things, he figured he could make an exception. It had been a rough night, after all.

“Do you have instant ramen?”

“Instant ramen?” She asked, confused. “Are you really suggesting that?”

“Aah.” He nodded, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. “I'm getting hungry, too and I think there’s still one bowl left. What do you say?”

Her face was a bit surprised, at first, but eventually, her expression changed and a soft, grateful smile took over her lips. In a swift move, she put back the pan and got herself a bowl of instant ramen. “Instant ramen it is, then.”

“Hn, I’ll go get one for me, too.”

“Okay…” She began, and he watched as she started to prepare the noodles. He was making his way to the kitchen with his laptop in hands, and it didn’t take much before they were both waiting for the water to boil. “Now we just wait, right?”

“I guess…Naruto is the expert here.”

“He certainly is.” She agreed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand. Her eyes were half closed, her head tilting a bit to the side. “Sasuke-kun…?”

“Uh? What is it?”

“I know it’s late and you must be tired, but…Can you talk to me for a bit longer? Just tell me about your day, I don't know.”

Her voice was soft at that moment, and he noticed the way she was genuinely curious about his day. Though she was still far from normal, Sasuke figured that was the closest to normal she would get in a situation like that. For the first time during the quarantine, he saw her, not as a doctor working bravely on the front lines, but as a young woman who had the right to feel insecure and scared.

They were all scared, after all. Why couldn’t she be, too, right? Just like everyone else, Sakura had the right to feel everything, and sometimes, feeling came with an overwhelming price. It hurt, it made her cry and doubt herself, but mostly, it made grow. As a woman and as a doctor, Haruno Sakura was growing and blooming like the flower she is.

For the better or the worse, that was how things were now.

And no matter what the future had in stock, they were going to face it together. Even if they were separated because of the virus, their hearts would be connected, always. 

“Of course.”

“Good.” She smiled, weakly, and at that moment, they knew that, in the middle of that mess, they could finally allow themselves to enjoy some good, instant ramen for dinner.

––––––

a/n: Okay, so… was it too much? From the beginning, I had this angst prepared for this story, and believe it or not, most of Sakura’s lines were based on real conversations shared by doctors. The note, too, was very real. It happened to a health worker here in my country and it just broke my heart when she told that to the press. Times are really weird right now, and it’s ok to be scared, but we can’t turn against each other! We need to spread love and empathy, not the other way around. If you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here! I’m a bit of a mess and I take a long time to answer, but believe me, I AM HERE! Anyway, thanks for reading it! Hope you’ve enjoyed it! Stay safe and stay inside!

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #ssfanfic #Naruto fanfiction #myssfics

[riotfuckery]

Shattered hearts and clean shirts pt 2

Sero Hanta x F!reader

A/N: Hello my beautiful readers! It’s your friendly neighborhood big tiddy goth gf here with shattered hearts and clean shirts pt2! It’s all fluff this time with some tones of flirting so please enjoy!

Taglist: @thedreadthread @queensynderella @trafalgar-temptress @kingtamakimurder thank you for all the love and support senpais 💖🥺💖

»»————-　♡　————-««

It’s been a few months since things ended with Bakugo. The sharp pain in your heart now down to a rush of anger whenever you were near him. The squad (formerly known as the bakusquad) was still there for you. Always being their friendly and cheerful selves while comforting or calming you down when it was needed. The grinning boy being the main reason you didn’t go ballistic on the blonde during class at the regular rude comments he yelled.

All the stages of grief went through normally but you were still stuck on anger. You pulled yourself together after getting played by the blonde toilet brush with a bad attitude. Including going to train more, eating healthier, and healing your heart with the help of your lovely friends. You could rely on Sero the most when it came to emotional stuff.

‘HOW DARE HE PLAY ME LIKE THAT? LIKE I WAS SOME STUPID PRIZE TO BE WON. I AM A PERSON GODDAMNIT. I AM A PERSON WORTHY OF LOVE AND CARE LIKE MOST GOOD PEOPLE. I HOPE HE ROTS!’ you angrily yelled in your head as you took out your frustration on a training dummy.

Letting out all of today’s anger out on the dummy with the last slice of your blade like thorn, you sliced it so hard at the neck that you decapitated it. ‘Oh shit, went a little too hard I guess.’ You thought with a shrug while breathing heavily from your workout.

“WOAH! THAT WAS SO MANLY (Y/N)! YOURE SO STRONG!” Kirishima exclaimed loudly from the other side of the room where he had his own training dummy. He was your workout buddy now, everyday you met him at a small gym down the street from the school to hone your skills and practice your hand to hand combat. You smiled at him brightly and gave him a loud “THANK YOU KIRI, BUT I CAN’T COMPARE TO THE MANLIEST MAN IN THE WORLD!” You shot back at him.

He blushed at the compliment, stopping his own workout to catch his breath. He shyly put a hand to his neck for a moment before walking over to where you were. His eyes widening at the damage you caused and sweat dropping.

He lowly whistled before he spoke. “Woah, that’s a lotta damage. You really tore into that thing like a wild animal. But that was super manly (y/n)!” Kiri commented excitedly as he did his signature red riot pose to emphasize on the manliness. The sweat on your skin started to become sticky and you wanted nothing more to take a shower.

“That’s the 3rd one this week, I’m broke from how many dummies I beheaded!” You moped dramatically. “Hey, at least you’re getting super strong!” Kirishima replied with a smile and a pat on your shoulder. You smiled at the statement. After training for another 30 mins, you and Kiri packed up your stuff and headed to the dorms.

The walk home with Kiri was always filled with laughs and smiles. He was such a nice boy that you couldn’t help the happiness that filled your heart. The two of you arrived at the door and keyed yourselves in. You both were walking through the common room when you heard Sero speak up.

“Hey gym rats, how was training?” He jested with his signature smile. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but smiled nonetheless. You each had your thing with the squad. Kiri had training, Sero had study sessions and movies, Mina had a few days of the week allotted for girl time and gossip, and Kami would just join in whatever he felt like. Some days it was study sessions, other days ‘girl time’ but very rarely training. (Damnit Denki, you could be the next ZEUS if you put enough work into it bby!)

“It was good, decapitated another dummy today, ya know the usual. I’m gonna take a shower and then we can study yeah? ” You spoke nonchalantly while walking towards your room. You took a glance at Sero who gave you a bright smile and a loud “Yeah”.

You set your stuff down and grabbed a change of comfy clothes to wear after your shower. Pulling out a random shirt and a pair of (f/c) sleep shorts. You folded them nicely before grabbing your shower basket and towel. On your way down the hall to the girls showers, you realized it was the shirt you accidentally stole from Sero. Your face heated up intensely as you tried to shake it away.

You developed a crush on the dark haired boy during those months of healing. The first few weeks, you tried to isolate yourself from everyone. Keyword: TRIED. Sero wouldn’t let you though. He always seemed to find you and he always seemed to soothe the ache in your heart.

The reassuring words spoke softly to you during lunch on the rooftop of the school and the comforting little touches he would give made the small spark of comfort turn into a small flame. That little flame he unknowingly added to until it became a full fire coursing in your veins. The thoughts about your crush continued even while you were showering.

‘He’s so kind, patient, and smart. Plus he just smells so GOOD! He’s cute and gentlemanly while still being fun and exciting. Heavenly beings only knows we have enough excitement in our group so I’m thankful he’s so chill and rational. He’s like the balance between everyone. I don’t see why he doesn’t see himself as special! He’s the most special out of all of us! He’s got a useful quirk (not that it matters) and a good heart! Plus he’s handsome! What more could you want in a guy?” The monologe continued in your head while you scrubbed away all of today’s dirt.

You soon finished, your body and hair now smelling like (f/s) and being squeaky clean. You stepped out of the cubicle (?) and wrapped your towel around yourself. Humming a random tune as you got dressed and brushed your hair, putting in all the usual products. Exiting the girls shower and making your way up to your room. You did your skin routine before swiping on your deodorant and spraying a bit of perfume after blow drying your hair.

Taking a good look in the mirror you have on your door, you gave yourself a smile and a approving nod before grabbing your bag and heading to Sero’s room. Nervousness was setting in as you neared his dorm.

‘You were wearing HIS shirt to your weekly study sessions! Did you want him to notice? Is it too late to go back and change? Oh god why didn’t you think about this earlier! Why did your stupid butt only remember this after you did everything?!?!?’ The little voice in your head scolded.

You knocked on the door three times, the nervousness weighing on you like a heavy blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to clear your mind of any nervousness and worry while putting on a small smile to keep up appearances. The door opened to a brightly smiling Sero, which made you internally scream.

‘Oh god that smile! I’m already nervous about wearing your shirt around you and then you have to greet me so happily I feel like I’m going to have a SEIZURE!’ The same voice in your head was screeching.

“Hey Sunflower! You ready to study?” He asked happily. You could only manage to give a nod while you felt your face heat up. ‘God why does his voice sound so good’ you whined internally.

He stepped aside to let you walk through the door and left your slippers next to his at the entrance. You made your way to his hammock and set your bag down beside it while you made yourself comfy in the oversized sling. He went and pulled out all his materials before making himself comfy next to you.

You studied like you would normally with him, taking notes and him asking you questions. Always answering them with a smile and explaining them thoroughly. He was surprisingly smart, but he just needed it explained differently than teachers and textbooks showed. That was another thing you loved about him.

The nervousness you felt was gone by the end of your study session, mostly thanks to his jokes, memes, and overdramatic whines of why math was needed to be a hero. He made you laugh so easily, the thought popped up that he might have a second quirk. Another thing you added to the list of why you had a crush on the dark haired boy.

“You did great today Sero, lets pack up and then we can watch whatever movie you want!” You happily said as you gave him a pat on the head, a habit you picked up from All Might. ‘His hair is so SOFT! I don’t regret doing it but I know I’m gonna think about playing with his hair all the time now’ you scolded yourself.

“Sure thing Sunflower! How does a bad horror movie sound? We can roast the hell out of those dumb teens......” his tone turned from his normal excited friendly to silence accompanied by a contented sigh leaving his lips. He felt like he was in heaven. Your smooth voice humming a sweet song he didn’t know just added to his fantasy. Your hands were so soft and felt so good, that his body melted as his dark eyes fluttered close.

Your hand was now playing with his hair, focused on feeling it now while you still could. You softly pet his hair, moving your hand down to play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The short nails on your hand lightly scratching his scalp on instinct. You hummed a song, “Can’t help falling in love” cover by twenty one pilots. The song subconsciously chosen purely for the fact that you were so in painfully love with him.

You both sat there for a moment, wishing it wouldn’t end. Then your love dazed state was blown away and your actions hit you with like a BUS. You stopped humming and pulled your hand out of his hair as gently as you could while you were panicking. The embarrassment and guilt creeping in your body like a unsuspecting wave.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t ask and my hand just moved on it’s own, I-i...” you waved your arms around wildly, as if trying to make yourself fly away from this painfully awkward situation. The heat on your face climbed up to your ears in embarrassment. You were cut off with a chuckle from none other the man himself.

“It’s fine sunflower! It actually felt like- uhhh really nice.” His normal friendly grin returned also with the addition of a light pink blush on his cheeks as he shyly put a hand to the side of his neck while looking the other way. Your heart that was beating wildly calmed down at the friendly tone but picked back up when he said he liked it.

“O-oh! So it’s okay?” You questioned shyly. You received an equally shy look and nod from Sero in reply and sighed out a breath in relief.

“Go and pick out the movie while I clean up, and then we can watch while I play with your hair. If that’s okay with you?” Your shy tone never leaving as you took another shot at being closer to your crush.

“That’s sounds great! Bad horror movies still good with you?” He asked. You hummed in reply as you cleaned up both of your stuff. The excitement heating up your body as you neatly stacked his books and papers and set them on his desk.

Sero couldn’t tried picking out a movie if his life depended on it right now. His focus only on you as you gracefully moved around to clear the space you were both previously in. His mind drifted back to how you were so warm and inviting, like a freshly dried fluffy blanket on a cold day. How you cute you looked as you wildly flailed around when you apologize, not that you needed to. Plus the adorable blush on your face kissed the tips of your ears.

He shifted back his focus to movies and picked a random one while he put in the DVD player. When he turned back, he saw his floor clear and you laying down on his bed. The red on your face dimmed down to a soft pink that scratched at your cheeks. He made himself comfortable as you watched the start of the movie.

He decided to lay on his side with his hand supporting his head. His pining heart sang in joy because of the closeness and thumping in his ribcage like a overjoyed bird. He wanted to be closer, fuck he needed to be. Alone time with you was rare and he needed to take advantage of it. He summoned all the courage in his body and slung his free arm over your waist, pulling you closer.

You jumped at the sudden contact and then melted into his embrace. Platonic cuddling wasn’t new to you and the squad, always cuddling up with someone while the whole group watched a movie until all of you passed out on the common room couch. This felt different from all those other times. It’s because both of you were ALONE TOGETHER.

The movie playing on the small tv in his room was the farthest thing from your minds right now. The thumping of both your synched heart sand the pink blushes on your face were the only thing on them as you hoped the other couldn’t see it. You were just struggling to breathe normally.

Sero was feeling the same way, his brain tunnel visioned on you. There you were so painfully close to him. The smell of your perfume mixed with the floral scent of your shampoo drove him absolutely insane. He took his position behind you to his advantage, his eyes trailed your body slowly.

His dark eyes started at your plush thighs, they looked so soft and so warm that he had to hold in a groan. The sleep shorts you wore just accentuated your hips and backside, the tight shorts with yellow and white stripes on the side tempted him sinfully. He moved his gaze to where his arm was, slung over your tiny waist.

‘It fit so perfectly, it was almost like you were made for him.’ He thought with dazed sigh. His mind stopped dead in its tracks when he realized you were wearing his shirt. His heart kickboxed in his chest, his subconscious screaming at him to make a move now or get over it.

“Sunflower?” He tried. You gave a hum in reply, not trusting your own voice. He paused for a moment, trying to decide if he should ask you why you were wearing his shirt. He loved you wearing his clothes so he just decided to spit it out. To see if he wasn’t just imagining things in desperation for you.

“Is that my shirt?” He teased, pulling your back closer to his chest. His deep voice was right next to your ear as his breath tickled your neck. He knew what he was doing, the cheshire grin overtaking his handsome features as his eyes twinkled mischievously.

You’ve been caught red handed. The muscles in your body froze as a burning hot blush erupted from your cheeks. The organ in your chest nearly ripped itself out when he pulled you closer and it stuttered when he spoke.

“Y-yeah, it is. I just threw it o-on after taking a shower. I can give your clothes back after I do laundry.” You managed to speak out in your overwhelmed state. He was so close to you and the way his voice dropped had you nervous.

“Keep it sweetheart, it’s looks better on you than it ever did me. Plus you look so cute in it, how could I say no?” His friendly causal tone was back, but the impish grin on his face never left. ‘When did he get so smooth? And sweetheart? He called me cute!!!!’ Your brain scrambled trying to comprehend what just happened.

Something ignited within your spirit. A mischievous grin spread across your face as you thought of a battle plan. ‘Oh he wants to play like that does he??? Aight bet. Let’s see if he could take what he dishes out.’ You smirked at the thought.

You turned so you were facing him. Mustering all the innocence in your being, you pushed your chest against his and craned your neck up so your noses were brushing. Your eyes peeked up at him through your long lashes and a playful grin overtook your face.

“Sweetheart huh?” You teased as you ever so slowly got your plush lips closer to his. You felt his breath hitch before it stopped completely, the rapid beating of his heart thrumming against your chest. His dark eyes were locked on your soft lips and you decided to test his patience by biting your bottom one softly. The strong arm around your waist tensed and you felt his body freeze.

“If I’m so cute and your sweetheart then why haven’t you made a move yet, cellophane~?” You spoke softly before you actually reached his lips. You heard a strangled groan from the back of his throat and smiled playfully before you moved away and back to your original position. An evil smile on your face as you pretended that you didn’t even do anything.

A soft and frustrated “fuck it” came from him and suddenly and you were pinned down on the bed by your wrists. Sero was straddling your hips as he held your wrists down with a tight grip. You looked up at him and saw the bright red blush on his face as he breathed heavily. The shocked and doe eye look you gave him only seemed to make it brighter.

“f-fuck, I’ve liked you for the longest time sunflower so will you be willing to go out on a date with me sometime soon?” His tone and gaze was nervous despite his dominant position over you. He let go of your hands and moved so he was sitting in front of you with his leg folded.

He shrunk a bit under your surprised gaze, but despite his feelings his eyes stayed stayed on yours. You propped yourself up and sat in front of him in the same position. A wide grin and the shine in your eyes ever present as you looked back at him.

“Of course I would love to go out with you Hanta! I’ve liked you for a bit now but was nervous asking you out after that whole ‘situation’.” You grinned brightly, cheeks flush pink and eyes slightly crinkled from how happy you were. He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled back as you just as brightly.

He tackled you into a hug, the joy in his heart keeping him from being polite with you. The sweet giggles that rang around the room just made his love for you shine brighter than ever. With his face buried in your neck and his arms snaked around your waist, he squeezed you like a teddy bear.

You audibly let out an “awwww’ at the boy. He just so sweet you couldn’t help it. Your hand found it’s way to his hair once again, running your fingers through it and lightly scratching his scalp while the other rubbed his back soothingly.

Both of you spent the rest of the night cuddling and making plans for your date. Laughs and the soft sound of whatever movie playing in the background just made everything feel so warm and comfortable. It felt like all the pieces had come together and placed you with Hanta Sero.

He was feeling just as warm and fuzzy with you. As he cuddled and snuggled you through the night, he couldn’t help the adoring smile plastered on his face.

Who knew he would not only tape the last pieces of your shattered heart together but made it feel full as well?

#sero hanta x reader #sero imagine #sero fluff #sero x reader #bnha sero #bhna fluff #bhna imagine #mha fluff #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bhna x reader #pt2 babyyyy #mha hanta sero #my hero academia #kirishimaeijirou #bakusqaud #mina ashido #denki kaminari #mha fanfiction #bhna fanfiction #sero x you #sero x y/n

[god-save-the-keen]

Daughters of Rheya

Chapter 1

Summary: After the final battle with Reyha, a new enemy rise. (Based in Serafine's finale of you don't do the diamond)

Pairing: Adrian Raines x mc (Amy) / Participation of Kamilah and Jax / Mention of Lily.

Words: 1.379

Warning: This serie will contain death or mention of it, nsfw and swearing.

Note: I'm going to use my permanent tagg list and Adrian x mc tagg list so let me know if you want to be removed or added for this serie.

Permanent tagg list: @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @violinet @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04 @simplymissjulia @luckyferrero

Adrian Raines x mc tagg list: @senator-adrian-raines-wifey @alesana45 @choicesfannatalie @mattrodriguezmylife @bigmemesplz @perriewinklenerdie @x-kyne-x @livingpurpose @adriansbiss @badgoodfishes @amyraineshessa @queencordonia @bloodboundismylife @theitcaramelchick @bloodboundhoe

She woke up. Her head hurt and her body was sore, she definitely wasn't expecting Amy to be this strong. Everything around her was too quiet and dark, something wasn't right. She stumbled, going to the front part of the theatre expecting to see her Goddess, ready to drop to her knees and serve her, in whatever way she wanted, as her soldier or something more. She could almost savor the taste of her skin in her mouth or her sweet smell. Her Goddess was everything to her and she would do anything for her.

She finally reached the stage, empty and dark, in the middle of it a pile of ashes lay and the truth hit her. Somehow she knew that those ashes were everything that was left of Rheya.

"Nooo!" A strangled, angry and pained cry came out of her lips as her eyes turned red and her fangs descended as her fist went through the floor leaving a huge crater.

"Serafine?" A shy voice said behind her. She abruptly turned around, ready to attack whoever dared to interrupt her in this agonizing moment until she saw Lori, another of Rheya's followers, come out from the shadows. She was crying looking at the ashes.

"Lori, you saw what happened?"

"Yes… Rheya was fighting with the traitors and that girl, the one who knocked you out, sh-she--" She interrupted herself sobbing.

"She what?!"

"She must have done something with our Goddess' mind, she touched her for a moment and then cut Rheya's head off." Serafine wobbled to a nearby wall until her back hit the hard surface as she slipped to the floor. Amy, the new blood, that little bitch had killed her. Her Goddess was dead because of her. Her head started to spin, her blood boiling inside her and her sight was red with fury. She couldn't and wouldn't let things happen like this.

"Tori, go find the rest of the true followers and believers and take them to the cave I told you about, I'll meet you there in a few hours."

"On it." The young vampire took off running to the entrance of the building and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Serafine stood up and started to walk backstage until she found a beautiful ornate gold box. With a heaviness in her heart she went back to Rheya's ashes and, carefully and respectfully, collected them, placing them inside the box. "We are going to make justice for you, my Goodness. I swear." Amy's face popped in her mind, mockingly smirking. That Bloodkeeper, facing her Goddess as if she were her equal, to think she had helped her to master part of her powers. She thought of all the traitors, Adrian and Kamilah, the fact that at some point in her life she had loved them made her feel sick, and that shameless clanless fighting alongside with them. They were all going to pay with their blood. And she knew exactly where to start.

.

.

.

Kamilah hugged Amy, holding her tightly one last time for the night, before standing up. Jax, taking her cue, also wrapped her in a long hug, his eyes burning and his heart broken. He stood up and followed Kamilah to the front door as they were accompanied by Adrian.

"Call us if you need anything, brother." She said, giving him a brief hug.

"Thank you." He responded, returning the gesture.

Jax clapped his shoulder, his gaze on Amy, curled up on the couch, still, pale and with her stare lost. "Take care of her."

"I will, don't worry. I'll let you know any news." Jax nodded and they left the penthouse. Adrian returned to Amy's side, worried for her and sad for what had happened. What should be a celebration of finally defeating Rheya, was a night of mourning Lily's death, especially for Amy. He could see how broken she was, they had won, sure, but the cost they paid was too expensive. "Amy." She stood indifferent to his voice. Her hands held the remainder of Lily's ashes, her eyes fixed on her palms, red from crying, and she was still wearing her battle clothes. He enfolded his arms around her, softly bringing her to his chest as her eyes filled with tears once more.

"Why did she do that?" She asked after a long time, her voice hoarse and weak.

"She loved you. She saved you. Any of us would do the same for you as you did it for us at the Met." He knew that memory would haunt him for a very long time.

"I just can't believe she's gone. That she left me." She looked at him. "It hurts so bad."

"I know love." He hugged tightly. "And it's going to hurt for a long time but everyday is going to be a little less painful, I promise." After a long moment, and when he felt her crying had stopped, he caught her attention with a sweet squeeze on her arm. "How about you take a shower and I make you something to eat? If you feel up for it."

"Yeah… Maybe it's a good idea." He kissed her cheek and she stood up, going to the bathroom. The last few months had been so hectic that she barely went to the apartment she used to share with Lily, all the clothes she was carrying with her were damaged, dirty or were uncomfortable to just relaxing after a battle. She found a pair of clean panties and black leggings in her belongings and, after a little bit of looking around, a gray t-shirt of Adrian's. The shower was more calming that she had expected, the hot water falling to her hair and back, warming her body and soul, the soap like a soft caress and, even though she felt broken inside, for just a moment, she was at peace.

During that time, the apartment filled with a delicious smell. Adrian was in the kitchen, his jacket off and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. She hugged him from behind, leaning her head against his back.

"How was the shower?"

"Good… I stole one of your t-shirts." A tiny smile creeped on his face as one of his hands held hers on his waist.

"There's blood in the fridge if you want some."

"I'm okay." She kissed his nape and sat on the counter. She looked as destroyed as she did an hour ago but at least she was calmer. "Do you need help?"

"No, it's almost done." He served two glasses of wine and passed one to her, that she gratefully took. Amy sipped it and smiled.

"You know, a while ago I was talking with Lily about the day I woke up and I told her you had cooked for me… She was so astonished." She made a sound between a laugh and sob. "She said that she was expecting you to have some sort of cooking robot." Adrian chuckled a bit, turning off the burner.

"I recognize it's not an activity I do often." He stood in front of her, his hand brushing her cheek before gently pressing his forehead against hers. "But I would do anything for you."

She was about to answer when a weird sensation peaked her attention. She jumped off of the counter and took a few hesitant steps forward, her brows knitting together and her senses aware.

"What is it?"

"I don't know… I had a strange feeling, like some energy or power…" She suddenly headed to the front door, running down the stairs as Adrian followed her. She went outside and slowly looked around.

"Where do you feel it?"

"For a moment I sensed it there but I think it's gone." Adrian looked to the place she was pointing, sharpening his senses but coming up empty. The sky turned a light blue, indicating that the sun would come up soon.

"Come on, love. Let's go inside." Adrian took her hand and headed to the building, she looked around one last time and followed him, convinced that the tiredness and grief had confused her. Neither of them noticed the black curly hair that was centimeters away from the place that Amy had pointed at, disappearing in the shadows.

❣️

#bloodbound mc #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #adrian raines x mc #choices adrian #adrian x mc #adrian raines #kamilah sayeed #choices kamilah #choices jax #jax matsuo #bb serafine #serafine dupont #bb rheya #rheya apostolous #daughters of rheya

[gulfportofficial]

Anyway, here’s some more WIP GP (I think some of you may have seen bits of this before? I told you it was taking me forever).

I loved how he looked when he woke up. Cranky and rumpled and soft all at the same time, his black hair messy and his skin warm from the bedclothes. It seemed to take him a minute or two to hear me well enough to respond to me. How human he was, still, that even now with his impossible strength, he woke up groggy. I climbed onto the bed, and then onto him, and kissed him on the mouth.

He smiled against it. He put his arms around me. “Has the paper come?”

Typical, I thought of saying, but did not. I wasn’t really annoyed by it. That clever little occupation of his, that too, was part of his sweetness too. “Yes,” I said, “and I’ve got the Picayune.”

Louis shuffled up and arranged his pillows fussily, so he could lean back onto them. “You’re very good to me,” he said. “Was it a nice walk?”

“Entirely uneventful,” I said. “Kiss me again and I’ll let you read your papers.”

He did. “Will you tell me the shape of the evening so that I know how long I have to read them?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, did your mother mention what time she was arriving? Do we need to go out before she comes?” he asked. “I don’t mind doing that.”

It would be entirely wrong to say that I had forgotten she was coming. I had thought about nothing else since her call. I had thought about it in my sleep and upon waking and during my walk and while he was kissing me. But I thought about it so hard it didn’t seem to be present in my real life. I swallowed, and Louis looked at me strangely.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She might want to go out together.” “It’s a shame you just can’t call her to check,” Louis said.

I didn’t bother to answer that. Such a pointless dig. Was that the shape of the evening then, something structured by Louis’ painful and barbed asides catching at my flesh? I rolled off him and fished out my laptop computer. I took my notebook and glasses from the bedside table. He didn’t comment.

There wasn’t much for me to attend to on the internet. A few emails. Facebook nonsense. I had been tagged in some photographs and proceeded to vet them. I do like candid photographs, but there are limits.

Louis had picked up the Press-Register. “Why don’t we go out just in case,” he said. “If she wants to, we can go again.”

I don’t think he was thinking this through. As a general rule, we do not hunt so close to where we live, unless we can truly be sure it is a little drink only and nothing more. We didn’t have time to go far enough afield. At least I felt we didn’t have time. He was right that I couldn’t call to check.

“You go,” I said. “I’ll wait.”

“That’s alright. If you want to wait, we’ll wait. I’ll survive.”

“Won’t it drive you mad?” I said. I’d opened up my Notes document and begin to transcribe.

“You forget to whom it is you’re speaking,” Louis said, and I was about to tell him off, but he was right. Anyone who could live on rats for as long as he had could skip a night. Just one though, allowing for the precedent of the consequences of his doing that.

“How’s the Gulf?” I asked, deliberately.

Louis gave me a look, but it worked, as I knew it would. “Thad Allen’s leaving,” he said.

“I don’t know who that is.”

“The Coastguard National Incident Commander. He actually stepped down moths ago but…”

I sighed. “Unlike you, Louis, I have better things to do than read everything about the fucking oil spill, so obviously I don’t know what that is either. When you tell a story like this you must structure in a referent or two so I am able to orient myself.”

I regretted saying that. I regretted saying anything that could stop him from focusing on the spill instead of my mother. “It’s called glossing,” I said, hastily. “One should gloss.”

I wonder if he took pity on me then, because he went on with only the slightest air of annoyance. “Admiral Allen,” Louis said, “is a Coast Guard official and the man appointed by President Obama to oversee responses to the disaster. He has a most distinguished career, actually, and…”

“What did he do?”

“Many things, but…”

“No, I mean, why is he stepping down? What did he do? Did he get caught taking a bribe or something else scandalous?”

“I think he’s just retiring.”

“Oh,” I said. “That’s dull.”

“He’s responsible for most of the online mapping.”

“The what?”

“I showed you,” Louis said. “The computer map of the spill and how it was spreading. On the internet. That was his idea, to make that map public.”  

“Oh yes, I remember,” I said. I didn’t. I was bored with the internet now anyway. I hopped out of bed, and started to flick through my wardrobe. I’d shower and dress, I felt better equipped to face the evening showered and dressed. I felt the need to cement things with a lot of ritual. Prayer. I thought I might do something to my face and slipped into the bathroom.

“What’s that on your face?” Louis asked when I slipped out. “Supernatural late stage leprosy?”

“Shut up,” I said, then I read off the jar for him, “it’s a Green Clay Masque with Rice Enzyme.”

Louis opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. I supposed I knew what it was – you don’t need that, it will have absolutely no effect on you – but I wondered why he decided not to lecture me. Perhaps he couldn’t be bothered.

He could think what he liked anyway. I felt the stuff drying on my face and I liked the sensation of it, it felt redeeming in some manner. I set the jar down and sat back on the bed and pulled out my laptop again. Nothing on Facebook had changed and it was all still boring. I trawled through it anyway. One feels obligated, or else compulsion. That,too, is like a naturalized little prayer against disaster.

Louis ran a gentle, distracted-seeming hand up and down on my back as I did. “My mother…” he said. I looked up.

I wasn’t sure if he’d trailed off out of discomfort, or simply because he didn’t intend to keep speaking. “What, Louis?”

“When my brother died…” Louis said, and that was surprising enough that I had to actually turn around to look at him. He never spoke about this. Never. And it didn’t precisely seem buried, not on his face now, nor in the fact that he’d stuttered himself out of speaking. Once turned around I held perfectly still.

He began again. “When my brother died,” Louis said, “well, you probably remember my telling you this, but we’d argued. Almost immediately before. Moments before. And my mother blamed me.”

“That’s not kind,” I said. “And it’s not true. Brothers exchange harsh words sometimes.”

“No, you’ve misunderstood,” Louis said. “I mean that she believed I’d committed the act. She asked the police to question me.”

Oh, Louis, I wanted to say. How horrible. How cruel. “Is that why you can’t understand a mother caring for you, or being your friend or being intimate?”

“Perhaps it is,” Louis said. “My mother and I were never particularly at odds before then, but we weren’t close either. I don’t know. I don’t know what she thought.”

“Why didn’t you ask her?”

“You’re correct that we didn’t have that sort of intimacy. I don’t recall ever asking her much of anything.”

How quickly I regretted this Green Clay Masque with Rice Enzyme. It had already started to itch and I wanted it off me, but I could not move to interrupt what Louis was saying. My heart wouldn’t let me do that.

“I don’t think my family in general liked me very much,” Louis said, his solemn white face still and his eyes far away. “Furthermore, I’m not sure I deserved being liked, since I don’t recall I was very kind to them. My father died and I focused on management, and I don’t wonder if that’s all I did. My sister said as much, after… well, after you and I… after I sent her to the city.”

“Did she really just announce that to you,” I said. “That she didn’t like you? That’s an awfully rude thing to say to the person funding your lifestyle.”

Louis raised an eyebrow at me. I took the point. However, there was strangely little malice in his expression considering how much room in it for malice there was. That was curious and I waited for him to continue.

“Yes she did,” he said. “She and I did become close then. When I visited her, we did talk, and with a great deal of frankness and intimacy, and she said very directly that I had become kinder and that she had begun to understand and to like me. So perhaps my mother simply knew an unkind person.”

But the real you must have shone through, I wanted to say. It seemed impossible to me that anyone could have met Louis and not instantly fallen as fatally in love as I, even, if not especially, his mother. Someone so beautiful, so passionate, so gentle and particular and odd, you’d need a heart of stone not to love him. But perhaps all of his reservations with me had come from this. Perhaps like all of us, Louis had been irreparably shaped by the first person ever to hold his vulnerable mortal body as it came into this world, forever formed by whatever definition of love was taught to him.

“Your mother was crazed with grief, chéri,” I said. “That’s all it was. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Well,” he said. He opened the paper again. His face was flat now. He’d finished. Any grief of his own that lingered, he wouldn’t show me.

I tried, subtly, to scratch my face, but I stopped before he looked at me. If he noticed he’d say something pointedly right about the masque and I didn’t want him to do that. “Whatever happened to that man your sister married,” I said. “She married that… I forget, but there was something about him…”

It was desperate. But I hoped it at least sounded conversational.

“There was nothing about him,” Louis said. “Unless you mean the fact that he was profoundly inbred, which yes, I suppose, is notable from a certain point of view.”

I snorted. “You’re a snob, chaton.”

“I’m nothing of the sort. It’s your kind who inbreed. The middle classes marry out.”

“You are…” I said, but I didn’t know what he was. Terrible, at least, I wanted to say. Absolutely appalling. I felt myself smiling, preparing to tease.

“Listen, Monsieur,” Louis said, and I stopped. He said it firmly, a stately little command, and it worked on me instantly. I listened, I waited.

“Listen, Monsieur,” he said, again. “I intend to be an asset to you in this, not a obstacle.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“That’s all,” he said. “Go on. Go on about your strange ablutions. I’m going to finish these papers.”