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eurydicees · 3 years

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Never apologize for your long thoughts and tangents!!! Those take time and I appreciate the detail you go into. I'm sorry for not being clearer in my ask, I think my sleep deprivation got to me lol; I was actually asking about your thoughts on their friend groups/skills in university bc even though they have so much more...time and space to make friends, I always wondered how many they would really make in college and esp people like Hikaru and Kyoya

all good, all good! i’m glad you enjoy because i have SO much fun writing them out, even if you and i are the only people who actually click “read more.” anyways. thoughts. i have so many. oh god. i know you said not to apologize but. this is so much. and i only covered the friend thing, i didn’t even talk about skills. i will def think on that though because i have opinions on everything. well here we go i guess:

i think one of the things i experienced in college was just a huge influx of opportunity. like. i was living with people that i saw all the time and thus became friends with them, and then friends with their friends, and then people in my classes, and people in the extracurricular projects i did-- like. there were just so many new people, and i go to a relatively small school.

all of that being said, my experiences are (a) only my own, and i don’t think that everyone does this, and (b) very, very, very american. like. the quintessential “die over college apps and then thrive in college” american experience. i’m sure that a lot of my experiences wouldn’t apply in japan (just based on what i know from other media i’ve consumed / people i’ve talked to), but some of them are pretty universal, i think.

okay all of that out of the way. i think that haruhi is going to have a very similar experience to me in that she doesn’t have a huge world outside of the hosts while at ouran, but once she gets to university, she’ll really thrive and branch out and find Her People, you know? over the course of the manga, she progressively learns to take initiative in things, as well as keep herself from burning out over that, and i think that’s something she continues to work on throughout university.

tamaki would also be able to branch out a bit, but at the end of the day, the hosts are his family. the hosts are the people he cares about. he definitely makes other friends, and definitely cares about them, but he loves the hosts. i think he has trouble prioritizing anything other than the other hosts, which makes it hard to make new friends, at first.

once he figures out that you can like. have multiple friend groups, he’s great. he also, i think, has to really accept that the other hosts are at different universities and are going to be making new friends, too, and he’s not going to be their “king” anymore. they’re all going to have to find different paths, and he has a lot of trouble accepting that for the others, even more so than he has trouble with it for himself.

kaoru does a similar thing to tamaki, i think, where he has trouble making friends only because he has trouble accepting that everyone else is also doing new things without him. especially hikaru. we see him-- in both the manga and in the anime-- have trouble with the idea that their little family is going to break up, almost to the same extent that tamaki fears it. i think that really holds him back for a while, but once he accepts that, though everyone is moving on, they all still love each other, he’ll be able to make new friends.

and oh god once he starts making friends, kaoru goes for it. he branches out wildly in university. he’s spent his whole life just sharing everything with hikaru, and once he starts trying to find out who he is apart from hikaru, he tries everything. he dyes his hair. he dresses like an e-boy. he joins a band, and then quits immediately. he wears dresses. he learns to do make up better than anyone else he knows. he takes every class he can.

he also burns out, i think, probably during his second year of trying everything new and figuring himself out. once he recovers from that lapse, where he kind of gives up on everything, he then settles down into being a person that he’s happy with. jesus christ ok there’s this really good demon-megane post that i have been trying to find for AGES that i simply cannot find, about how kaoru and hikaru are when they get to university and have to work on their codependent relationship. i think about this post every fucking day. it’s so good and it’s so relevant rn. i’m gonna go looking for it again later.

okay and this is gonna be a hot take, but i don’t think that honey and mori figure out how to make friends at university either, at least not until everyone else has graduated ouran and is off to university. in the manga, it’s honestly like they didn’t even graduate-- they go back to ouran for a lot of lunches, and they see the other hosts all of the time. i don’t think that, if they’re doing that, then they’re going to be able to make many friends at university.

but once everyone has graduated, i think that they’d be able to branch out better. as soon as they don’t have a significant fear of missing out on host club shenanigans and their old friends’ lives, they can kind of move on and find other people-- which is just. gonna be so good for them. mori, especially, would have a great time in college trying out new things without worrying about honey (mori has eldest daughter syndrome, change my mind). honey has always been popular and charismatic, and once he truly moves on from ouran emotionally, i think he’s going to have a great time making friends.

and on the other end of the spectrum, i think kyoya would be. suffering. like. he’s friendly with people, but he doesn’t have friends. he’s so focused on studying himself to death that he doesn’t have time for emotionally valuable friendships, and i don’t think he really wants them either. like i said in that last post, i think he’s pretty satisfied with what he’s got, and he’s not going to want to branch out much. also i wrote an entire fic about this lmao.

similarly, hikaru would have the worst time trying to make friends. i think that he has one of the most impressive character arcs throughout the manga, but he still has a long ways to go in terms of his social skills. and if we’re talking anime-only, hikaru has absolutely no idea how to like. be a good friend. he’s so used to just using people that it’s hard to not do that. and even then, he’s so wrapped up in the hosts that he doesn’t really know how to find other people.

side note, but i think he’d also have a lot of trouble at ouran after tamaki + kyoya graduate, because he really just doesn’t know how to find people outside of the hosts. during university, he probably has a lot of trouble figuring himself out-- what he wants to do with his life, with his career, with people. he doesn’t like. seek out clubs, and just takes random classes, and doesn’t reach out to anyone. i love him so much, but he’s definitely a mess in university. he figures it out, i think, but it does take him a hot sec. he needs a year to learn how to stop burning bridges via anger issues, and how to not rely on kaoru for the social skill aspect of a friendship, and what he actually wants to do with himself. GOD. i’m thinking about that post AGAIN. every time i think about the twins i think about that post it is KILLING me.

but in conclusion, all of the hosts miss each other so terribly during university, and they have such a rough time trying to figure out new relationships. except for haruhi, who fuckin thrives in university, except for the fact that she’s studying all of the time and doesn’t know how to manage her time. but that’s just the #college life. anyways i am SO curious to hear other people’s thoughts on this bc it’s a very very interesting question!

#ask #ohshc #ouran high school host club #ouran meta

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krreader · 4 years

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on the same page.

pairing: min yoongi x kim taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: sex ; threesome ; oral sex ; dirty talk ; spanking ; dom!tae&yoongi x sub!reader ; language genre: smut word count: 1.8k+

summary: sometimes a look is all it takes for things to be set in motion.

a/n: haven’t posted a threesome fic in a while so why not today, please enjoy this piece of pure smut!

The topic had come up again and again, only that at first it had been something you had said as a joke. Like haha, imagine how funny it would be if I slept with one of your band members, only for Yoongi to say that he wouldn't watch, but join in.

And it continued on from there.

Jokes, hints and teasing, until the topic actually became a serious one.

“I'd like to try.. just once,” you had said one night, Yoongi's arm around you as his fingers brushed over your waist.

“If only so I can prove to you that I'm the best in this group when it comes to sex,” Yoongi had joked.

And that's how it all started.

You had began to evaluate who would be the best candidate for this thing.

Jin was the one where Yoongi didn't even dare to ask, maybe because he was older than him and was afraid that this topic would be 'disrespectful' to him, but Jin didn't really strike you as the kind of guy that wanted to have a threesome with you anyways.

Then there was Hoseok, one that you both would have asked in a heartbeat, if it weren't for him having started dating only a month ago. Same reason as to why you didn't ask Jeongguk, he also recently got a girlfriend.

Then there were only three, Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung.

But before you two could even decide on who to ask, it seemed as if it developed naturally.

You and Yoongi had decided to go out to eat tonight, you not having many chances to doll up these days, since you and him mostly had dinner at either his or your place, had decided to put in maximum effort to look absolutely flawless.

And when you walked into the living room, still putting on your jewelry, Yoongi saw the way Taehyung looked you up and down. He saw the way he licked his lips and let his eyes linger on certain body parts of yours. He saw how he started shifting in his seat, only to instantly stop doing that when he realized Yoongi was watching him.

But instead of a warning look, like he expected he'd get from him, Yoongi actually smirked at him.

The younger member thought this might be a trick at first, that Yoongi was trying to get him to be comfortable and do something that he'd regret later, but when he ended up mouthing: “She looks so good,” hoping that it comes across as an innocent compliment, Yoongi started chuckling.

Very, very darkly and very very intimidatingly.

“Did we miss something or why are they looking at each other like that?” Namjoon asked, walking out of the kitchen with his coffee.

“We should leave them to it,” Jimin said as he got up from the floor, “I'm headed out for dance practice.”

“Yeah, I’m going to the studio too. Taehyung,” Namjoon said, waiting for Tae to look at him, “When Yoongi hyung leaves you're the only one at the apartment, so don't forget to look the door.”

“Yes mom,” Taehyung grinned widely.

And it was only when both of them were out of the apartment, that you let out a sigh and dropped your bag, “You made your choice, didn't you? There won't be dinner tonight.”

“There will be.. just not the kind you had in mind,” Yoongi first looked at you, then at Taehyung, “The other members won't find out about this.. agreed?”

“I really didn’t expect my night to go like this, but I can’t say I’m complaining,” Taehyung was already undressing you with his eyes, probably already imagining what you looked like naked and beneath him.

Quite honestly, out of the three, you had wanted Taehyung the most, so you couldn't exactly say you were mad that it ended up being him who pushed you onto Yoongi's bed while your boyfriend watched with crossed arms and him licking his lips. You couldn't say that you hated it when Taehyung’s lips left a wet trail of kisses along your neck and his fingers managed to unzip and then pull down your dress and simultaneously, your panties. And you definitely couldn't say that you despised it when he started eating you out, while Yoongi unzipped his pants and took a step closer to the bed for you to wrap your hand around his hard dick and smile to yourself at how good you felt in that moment.

“Do you know how long I wanted to do this,” Taehyung chuckled against your thigh, then sucked on your clit which made you arch your back and tighten your hand around your boyfriend's dick, Yoongi sucking in a breath, “How often I heard Yoongi hyung fuck you and how often I wanted to be the one to please you.”

Yoongi chuckled, but quickly let out a moan when you got up on your elbows and took his dick in your mouth, his eyes closing and his head falling back, “Just how many times did you get off on that thought, Taehyungie?”

“I won't tell,” he chuckled, getting up but just for a moment so he could get himself a condom, undressing himself in the process. Only when he wrapped his dick with the condom did he say: “But after tonight, I'll always think about your warm and sweet pussy,” and with that he entered you and you couldn't help but let out a scream.

Because fuck.. his dick was so not what you were used to.

Yoongi was thick, to the point that he always stretched you out so much that you needed a moment to adjust to the size, whereas Taehyung was slim and long and instantly hit a point within you that made you see stars.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you, baby girl,” Yoongi joined you both the bed as well after he took off his pants, sitting behind your head so that you could easily slip his dick back into your mouth, “Taehyung is going to make you come real fast.”

Yoongi prided himself with pleasing you well, he could make you orgasm in less than five minutes too if he wanted to, despite his dick not having the same length as that of other members, specifically Taehyung. But he wasn't stupid, he knew that Taehyung had qualities that made you orgasm soon and hard.. and maybe that's even why he ended up choosing him. Because he didn't just want this to be any experiment, he wanted it to be one that you'd truly enjoy.

You had a hard and stressful week, you deserved to be treated like this.

And so you moaned, then whined with your lips still wrapped around Yoongi's hard dick as Taehyung spread your legs further apart and fucked you without mercy.

No, he didn't need to drag this out and no, he couldn't drag it out even if he wanted to, because you felt so good wrapped around him like this and you were taking him so well, that he had no other choice but to chase his height.

On top of that, the way your breasts bounced and the way his hyung's dick disappeared so deeply in your mouth and the way that his hyung moaned because of that made him want to go even faster, he wanted all parties to enjoy this.

With you deep throating Yoongi at this point, he knew that he wouldn't last long either, your tongue and mouth feeling so good that he couldn't wait to cum, the image alone of you swallowing all of it making him moan out loud.

And he wouldn't even have asked to switch positions in any way or form because of how well you were pleasuring him, but Taehyung had a pretty clear idea of what he wanted and so he pulled out and slapped two of his fingers onto your clit, making you scream out loud once again, “Turn around for me, princess.”

Yoongi just chuckled when you looked at him with big eyes, “You heard him, baby girl, better do what he says.”

And see, being dominated by one person was good and all, but being dominated by two was just a feeling that you couldn't even describe.

The way Taehyung grabbed your hips and pulled them towards him once you had turned around and the way he slapped your ass cheek before burying himself inside of you again. The way that Yoongi grabbed a fistful of your hair and made you look up at him, kiss you deeply, before he gave himself a few pumps and then pretty much fucked your face, that was an experience you would never ever forget and one that you would get you wet whenever you’d think about it.

With this new angle, it took only a few more minutes before you could feel your walls beginning to clench and your clit beginning to throb.

Taehyung's thrusts were getting faster, but not any less sloppy, he still managed to hit places within you that made you wish this feeling would last forever.

And Yoongi was simply enjoying not having to do anything today except for pull on your hair every once in a while when he wanted you to take him deeper.

That was the kind of sex he really loved.

And when Taehyung's moans began to become louder and he pushed so hard inside of you that your eyes widened, your moans nearly turned into screams if it wasn't for Yoongi's dick inside your mouth and tears began to pool in your eyes, you knew that your body would give up at any second.

Thankfully with you hollowing your cheeks like that, Yoongi came nearly at the same time as Taehyung did, slowly and in the most relaxing manner ever did he push inside your mouth a few more times before he pulled out and grabbed your chin to make you look at him, wiping at the corners of your mouth with his thumb and smiling when you gulped it all down, “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his entire demeanor changing from dominating daddy to sweet and caring angel.

But what surprised you was that it wasn't just him who changed.

“Don't move, I'll be right back!” Taehyung pulled out as quickly as he entered and returned only a few moments later with a wet, lukewarm towel that he used to gently clean you with, before Yoongi helped you sit up.

“Go to the bathroom, I'll prepare the bed for you.”

You were so tired that you didn't even fully realize just how caring they both were all of a sudden, if you had, you would have appreciated the moment a lot more then and there.

But you would do tomorrow for sure, when your mind was clearer and you were able to think straight.

And while you went to the toilet and quickly showered, Taehyung and Yoongi prepared the bed for you, both men incredibly well-spent and happy.

“Thanks for letting me be a part of this hyung..”

“Thank you for taking such good care of my girl. I knew I could count on you,” he grinned, his hand on Taehyung's shoulder, “Who knows.. maybe this can be a thing every now and then.”

“You know I wouldn't complain,” Taehyung sighed dreamily, “Her pussy tastes so good, hyung. I’m so jealous you get to taste her whenever you want to.”

“What can I say,” Yoongi pulled the blanket back with a proud smile, “I hit the jackpot with her.”

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commander-hanji-zoe · 4 years

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☀ Silken threads ☀

I wrote this for @lioru92 it’s a Hange Zoe one shot, but honestly I don’t really know what this is or how to describe it? It’s a collection of thoughts about Hange’s day really, reflecting on the things they think about, memories from the past with the other vets and the things that keep them going. A few things - there’s references to a kiss and someone telling Hange they love them - I don’t imply who this is, it is, in my mind one of the vets but it’s up to your interpretation to decide who it was. Secondly - it is a little sad/dark and poetic in places. I enjoy writing in a slightly off beat way occasionally and I feel this shows here. Thirdly - In this Hange is written as gender fluid and therefore use the pronouns they/them. I do a lot of research and am constantly learning but please let me know if I say anything problematic (or with any fics) ❤

Word count - 1,795

Hange wakes at 6am almost everyday, unless they have been drinking with the other vets the night before. That used to be a frequent occurrence, it’s not so much anymore. None of them notice. At least none of them speak aloud, but the void that’s left doesn’t go unacknowledged. In Winter Hange wakes a little later, fond of the season, but hating the cold, dark mornings, Hange learnt that they couldn’t always have their cake and eat it. They like to watch the sun rise and know that they’re up before almost everyone else, apart from those they are connected to. It’s unspoken but there’s invisible threads that tie them with Moblit, Erwin, Mike, Nanaba and now Levi.

It seems strange to Hange that once they had felt so alone and confused about their place in the world. When the others came along slowly these threads begun to appear and the path in front had never been clearer. When Hange vocalised this to Erwin he seemed sad, no, he had told them, you were already great and already had a place, you didn’t need us for that. But we love and appreciate you…all the same. There’s this crack, like a crack in a tooth and Hange knows what that means, knows over time it’ll get worse and shatter. Because underneath Erwin’s tough and determined exterior, Hange knows how much he cares, knows that he is just as vulnerable as the rest of them. Sometimes they curse how astute they can be, wondering whether ignorance really is bliss but knowing they’ll never know.

Happiness was as much a dream as it was a reality, perhaps more so. Research gave Hange purpose, the combination of purpose and keeping busy meant Hange had little to no time to think on what could have been or the dreams they had when younger. Childish dreams, delicate like a spider’s silk spinning through the air. Any gust of wind to disrupt it’s course and there had been far too many hurricanes since birth.

They think on their siblings, one alive, one dead. Hange misses them, blames themselves for the death of a brother, knows it wasn’t their fault but still the guilt sits in the put of their stomach. Hange pushes it to the back of their mind and focuses on their new family, like most of the cadets, this was found when Hange joined the scouts.

They thumb through pages of diaries, once so determined to keep a proper diary and to record not only military or Titan related information, but to keep a record of feelings and also the mundane. The small things like when Levi teases or makes cups of tea, when Mike knows they’ve washed their hair and detects and scent then compliments. The small things like the jokes Moblit tells or the time Nanaba and they had a pamper night just for the sake of it.

The feel of the sun in summer on skin as Gelgar splashed water in the other’s direction and Ness arguing with Charrete, Levi just watching from afar tutting and sighing. The sound of bird song before the sun rose and the stars that moved across the sky. The feeling of getting into bed after a long day, or late night chats with Erwin over a glass of wine, Erwin who Hange trusts more than anything and knows they would die for. But rarely does their diary reflect these little moments so consumed with their research it has become them now, it defines them.

Hange thinks of Bean and Sonny, it makes them cry. They don’t think about about them anymore.

There’s a book full of fairy tales, Erwin bought it for their 21st birthday, he believed Hange deserved to escape just as much as anyone. There’s a sketch pinned to the wall next to the bed, it’s a vase of peonies, something simple but beautiful. Mike did that for them one day when they were feeling blue. This was the side of the older scouts the younger ones would never see, it worked better that way.

Hange takes pride in their appearance, it’s one of the small things they do for themselves and a part of their morning ritual. After waking and watching the sun rise, they go over their schedule twice just to be sure. They drink a glass of water then a tea, brush their hair and tie it up, a quick splash of water on their face wakes them up and brings them from the world of sleep into the world of the living. Some days they bind their chest, some days they don’t, none of the vets ask questions but they’re always there if their dear friend needs someone to talk to, no judgement, just love.

Hange would argue their hair is their best feature, they like how it swings from side to side when they walk or run, they like how when the sun shines on it there’s little strands that appear almost golden. When younger, Hange had wished they had blue or green eyes, older now and wiser than their years they had come to love the deep earthy brown instead.

Hange sometimes misses being a cadet and green. They miss laying on grass listening to Mike name all the flowers he could smell. Or napping under trees and not feeling afraid. They miss the excitement, the real excitement that bubbled under the skin, rather than the obsessions that caused that excitement now. The fool’s gold of excitement Hange would call it.

The ghosts that haunt used to be frequent, they’re not so much anymore. Tragedy after tragedy and endless heartache it starts to become normal, it doesn’t surprise them anymore. The first death of a friend nearly broke Hange but they had to continue, had to keep beating on to fight the good fight and ensure their friends deaths were not in vain.

The greatest gift they have been given is purpose, driven by the need to help humanity and know what is beyond, that is what keeps Hange going and getting out of bed each day.

Though they miss the silly parties, miss how naive Erwin could still be, how he would tell jokes and his laughter which once was so infectious. They’ve almost forgotten what it sounds like now, it’s just an echo that fights against time and cries, ‘I was here’.

There’s the taste of wine on another’s lips, how many times had they kissed?

Only Erwin, Levi, Moblit and Hange remain of their little group and it hurts. When Mike and Nanaba didn’t come back a part of Hange never recovered, there were tears behind closed doors and staring at Mike’s drawing for hours. When Levi would tease about their smell, an affectionate tease of course, Mike would retort commenting that no one had time to wash that frequently and anyway Hange’s corporeal scent was earthy like rain on moss in November. Nanaba would agree and kiss Hange’s cheek for reassurance. Levi would pout but his lips would always curl into a smile, there had been so many in jokes and play fighting and love, more love than tea in Levi or Erwin’s quarters. Wish honestly, Hange would write in their diary, is really saying something.

Maybe those dreams Hange had weren’t exactly dreams at all, maybe it’s an alternative life they’re able to see glimpses of, another alternative reality. And maybe they’re all just spiders flying through the air on strands of silk, waiting to see what destiny has in store for them.

Hange shuffles their paperwork as Moblit enters the office, he looks concerned, he always looks concerned these days. Shuffling paperwork is a trick learnt early on in the days of being a section commander, you do it to look busy when your mind is distracted and elsewhere.

Just one more kiss.

Do you love me like I love you?

Love has no place within these walls.

If love has no place why are you so determined to save…

You.

The word ‘Others’ doesn’t leave Hange’s lips, it can’t, the other has spoken.

The other is all but a ghost now but still with you alway, a voice inside Hanji’s head speaks but the sound is almost drowned by suffering and blinding lights.

“Maybe we’re all just spiders flying through the air on strands of silk,” Hange says as they catch a glimpse of themselves in the mirror before they leave.

“Section Commander,” Moblit says, in a tone slightly confused if not a little concerned.

Hange shakes their head, “Nothing, let’s go see what Erwin has planned for us now.”

There’s a bright smile on Hange’s face and a spring in their step because that is what is expected and even they cannot deny that their mind is still curious and perhaps with the deaths of their comrades they are more determined than ever.

Mid summer, the date always stuck in Hange’s mind as there had been a year not so long ago where they took Mid summer off. Hange and Levi organised a picnic which was attended by Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Gelgar, Ness, Oluo, Petra, Rashad, Lauda, Nifa, Keiji…There was enough of them to make it a party, Hange never forgot Erwin’s smile or the taste of the strawberry cheesecake Levi had made with Petra and Oluo, who had insisted on joining in. It was one of the happiest memories Hange had.

It was the one Hange knew if they were about to die their mind would reach out to as their hands stretched forward to be welcomed into the arms of Erwin and the others. There had been too many nightmares in the early days, woken drenched in sweat somewhere beyond the walls someone was screaming, no howling in terror. It sounded like Mike and it always sent shivers up Hange’s spine. Mike, Nanaba & Gelgar didn’t die for nothing, Hange would make sure of that, they weren’t hurting anymore. They were free.

Hange tries to go to sleep early, though always waits for the sun to set even in summer, the sunset reflecting in the clouds or water or shining through windows casting a soft orange glow on the wooden floors. All these are some of those small things which are the big things, it was Mike that told them that, Mike who taught Hange to close their eyes and just listen, smell, feel the grass under their finger tips. Nanaba would lay with them, fingertips touching so the three were joined and knew they were not alone. Erwin, Levi and Moblit found them once and joined in silently so they were all laid in a circle, with fingertips and toes stretched outwards, Hange imagined they must look like the sun. Their limbs radiating truth and love and hope and…. There were so many ands, so many possibilities.

#Hange Zoe #Hanji Zoe #Snk vets #aot vets #Erwin Smith #Mike Zacharias #Nanaba #levi ackerman #Ness #Gelgar #aot #snk #writing #oneshot

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certifiedceraunophile · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’m your gifter for the Klaroline Gift Exchange! I wanted to check in and tell you my idea and see if I’m on the right track for your gift. I’m thinking about the following: Historical human AU - Caroline is the daughter of a powerful baron. Klaus is an artist under the patronage of Caroline’s father. Highlights: a dark secret, angst, multiple murders, betrayal and revenge. Also, some smut to to take the edge off. Does that sound ok?

Alrighty so first off, may I marry your brain?? Utterly serious, no joke. May I marry it?

I mean dude—

Are you kidding me?? This is bloody perfect, so fucking perfect. I mean I feel like you jumped into my brain and just frolicked around a bit and were like *picks overly biased tropes/tags my brain constantly screams about like picking flowers* and then weaved a Garland with all those flowers and put it around my damn neck. I mean Ik I haven’t read the fic yet, heck the fic isn’t even written out yet, but like if I saw this description in the summary or tags, I’d dive head first for the work.

Historical Human AU, with a class difference between Klaus and Caroline, scandalous baby. I mean I dig.

Klaus as the Artist under patronage, honestly why aren’t there more fics with Historic Artist!klaus, it fits in perfectly.

Caroline the wealthy daughter of the Baron, yes ma’am I believe you are taking this in the right direction, especially if I get to see this class difference between Klaus and Caroline turn their love forbidden-y or secretive.

Ok just tell me this, have you and I had a conversation like ever in my life? Do we know each other? Because anybody who has talked to me for even like two minutes knows that this, this right here “dark secret, angst, multiple murders, betrayals and revenge.” Is basically what my custom Pokemon’s aesthetic would look like. I mean is it perfect? Bloody yes. But I’ll still unpack all of it because I’m ✨extra✨ like that,

Dark secret; alright so here’s the thing, love love love fics when either Klaus or Caroline have a nice snug close-to-the-heart poisonously scandalous secret no one should know about, but, (yes there’s a but) if this is a secret either Klaus or Caroline are keeping from each other, and it’s the kind of secret that in a honest trusting relationship the other would know about it, because it’s important and crucial information, and yet one of them keeps the secret from the other for xyz reason, the person who was kept in the dark should please throw a MASSIVE fit about it, not silently uNdErStAnD why it’s was kept a secret, or accept that some secrets are best left secret, but like be really angry that the person wasn’t able to trust them, and be hurt about it, Am I making sense? I don’t think I am, basically what I’m saying is if KC are bluffing to each other make the truth hurt. Please Dont let the forgiveness be easy. Make my babies pay. 👉🏾👈🏾🥺

But if the secret is just something Klaus and Caroline are keeping from everyone else or everybody else is keeping from Klaroline, or is basically outside of Klaroline instead of between them, go crazy, hurt my babies don’t hurt my babies, totally up to you. But thank you for this dark detail, I shall cherish it with tender hands.

Angst;

Ok Hi have you met me?

If no then here’s your answer,

YES

No wait like

YES

Gimme gimme gimme.

But, yes again there’s a but, (I’m so so sorry if I’m being very picky and hard to please not my intention at all, I just want to make things clearer for you, but at the end of the day you have total creative control, so like go crazy for me, I will fully appreciate it.) But back to the point at hand, I love love love angst between KC, I adore it, i mean KC canon or otherwise are not a flowery sunshine fluff couple, they’ve got problems and issues and are far too alike and way too different to even logically be together without constantly stepping on each other’s toes, I usually like angst when one of em fucks up and there’s a lot of grovelling involved, or angst due to conflict in between them, or angst due to misunderstandings, but what I do not appreciate is the abusive nature/toxicity/hurtful nature of the conflict or angst creating action forgiven easily, or not being dealt with, basically I want the closure to the angst to be reasonable to both characters, and no one is being a pushover, the Klaus and Caroline dynamic is built upon calling each other out, not taking each other’s shit and zero tolerance for each other’s toxicity, so I would very very much appreciate that to be included here.

Betrayal and revenge;

I mean ma’am you are waltzing straight up my alley and owning it like a mafia mobster, when I say angst, I usually mean conflict and what other better way to bring in conflict than betrayals and revenge. Oh the blood and the lies and the schemes, 10/10 ik I will enjoy, but I’d just like to say, that if betrayal in any way means infidelity, I will not enjoy it, fics with cheating in between Klaus and Caroline are squick for me, so please take this into consideration, and lest I sound awfully repetitive, like I said if the betrayal and revenge (conflict) is between KC don’t let them go easy on one another. And if the revenge and betrayal is not in between KC and with outside forces, just know that I appreciate it bloody.

Multiple murders;

Ok so I’m confused, are these sad murders, like good characters who are close to Klaroline dying, or douchecanoe asshats being hacked to pieces good fucking riddance murders, because like I usually don’t appreciate the former, when I say angst it means conflict (I’m really really sorry if I failed to mention that in the original assignment that was stupid of me) and not pure grief, it leans towards anger and despise and remorse and hurt more so than just grief, grief is a pretty straightforward emotion, there’s less room to play around with unlike the others I’ve mentioned, so please take this into consideration. So like if you’re killing off characters, please let it be Damon or Stefan or one of the eight hundred other dipshits in the Tvd universe, and please leave my other precious babies alone.

Smut; here’s the thing, I am constantly horny, like no shame, smut is my go to stress relief, I will ways always always ENJOY some good plot with porn, and the plot here is good, so the porn is just delicious vanilla (or not, iykwim) icing on top. So please yes. *insert audio of a person being very very agreeable during sex* please do so, I am absolutely one hundred percent behind, over and under this idea.

Thank you so so much for reaching out to me, I think you are going in the perfectly right direction, continue further down this path and you will make it straight to my heart.

I am again so so sorry if I sound lazer specific and am not giving you enough room to work with or to allow your muse to wander, please know you can always break and make a few rules of your own, this at the end of the day entirely your work, and I don’t intend to take your creative control from you at all, all I ask is please be mindful of the things I feel squick about. Other than that, all I can say is I cannot for the life of me bloody wait for this baby to come out, I am jumpy up and down excited, and I am again so sorry if this is putting too much pressure on you, not my intention, but this is like my first gift exchange ever so I’m extra screamy, anywaysss long story short, thank you so much for doing this for me, again sorry for writing you a whole ass Drabble when probably all you expected was a binary yes or no in answer, but like to answer your question, is this ok? If you haven’t figured it out already

Ahem

✨ YES ✨

This is perfectly and exactly ok, I love it already and I can’t wait to fall in love with it more, please continue to send me asks regarding this if you want something clarified or if you can’t make sense of the chaotic monstrosity above, my inbox is always yours to blow up.

All the love and peace and writerly inspiration in the world being sent to you.

Srishti ❤️❤️

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doodlelolly0910 · 6 years

Text

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N: So here we are at chapter 14! I cannot believe how far we are already! I have about 5-6 more chapters planned for this fic, but we will see how it goes lol. This is a really pivotal chapter not only for Hook, but for the development of things moving forward, in a few ways. As always, THANK YOU to every single person who reads, reviews, reblogs, or even looks this piece's way. I appreciate all of you more than you know! A very special thank you to @kmomof4 (it's her birthday today!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KRYSTAL!!!!) who is the best beta I could have ever asked for this fic, and thank you thank you thank you to @courtorderedcake for the gorgeous art banner she put together for this piece. 14 chapters in and it still blows me away every single time. Hope you guys like the new chapter!

Chapter 14

The world was black and Emma was blind.

“Emma.”

A voice rang out in the darkness. She knew that voice.

“Emma, it's time to wake up, lass.”

Wake up. Yes, that was a good idea. Maybe she couldn't see because her eyes were closed.

“Killian is waiting for you.”

Killian? Oh, yes. Hook. But why was he waiting for her? Right. Will Scarlett. At Gold’s place.

“Wake up, Emma.”

No, that wasn't right. She just saw him at the docks, didn’t she? And then the call from Gold…

“Lass. Come back.”

A ringing started in her ears. It grew louder and louder until she thought her eardrums might burst.

“Wake up.”

A face flickered in her vision, the first thing she'd been able to see, curly copper hair, soft blue eyes, stern, handsome features. The ringing drowned out everything but his voice. She tried to call out to him, his name passing her lips on reflex, but she couldn't even hear her own voice.

“Wake up.”

“LIAM!”

Emma bolted upright, drenched in sweat and her heart pounding so hard she feared it might break a rib. Her hand pressed to the skin above it, almost as if to hold it in her chest.

“Easy, Swan, easy.” She heard someone say and her head snapped to the side. Her eyes connected to Killian's like a magnet to metal.

Then the consequences of her sudden movements caught up with her.

Her shoulder and hip felt like they were on fire and Killian crouched beside her was the only thing in her line of sight that was in focus. She was definitely going to be sick. She must have paled or turned green or some other indicator that the very little she had eaten in the last day was about to make a reappearance because in the moment her body decided to heave, a small plastic trash can was shoved under her face.

“Oh, God,” Emma groaned, her voice sounding hollow bouncing from the sides of the receptacle. She spit into the container and lifted her head. Once he was sure she was spent, Killian removed the bin and stowed it beside the raggedy couch she was on.

“Back in the Fun Room, I see,” she said as her surroundings became a little clearer, recognizing the couch, the metal desk with the hole in it, and that fucking beam. The throbbing in her head was no less, though, and she realized the ringing in her ears, while not as loud as before, was definitely going to be there for awhile.

“I wasn't sure if I'd have to tie you back up or not,” Hook replied with a nonchalant shrug as he stood and Emma's head screamed in protest as she jerked her gaze to his again, a chill running down her spine. “You hit your head quite a bit harder this time, though, so I thought I might take my chances.” Killian walked away back towards the desk and Emma's hand went up automatically to find the wound on the crown of her head had reopened and there was freshly dried blood in her hair again. She winced and hissed as her fingertips grazed the area, her eyes looking to where Hook was now, leaning against the desk with his arms folded across his broad chest.

As before, he had a few things laid out on the surface next to him, that ridiculous knife, a binder, black this time, and something else that made her heart stop. She felt all the blood drain from her face and her arm lowered slowly from where it had been inspecting her injury.

A gun sat well away from the rest of the objects, like it was on display, which it probably was, considering it was her gun, her badge propped neatly against it, along with her keys.

“I do believe we should have a chat, Detective Nolan.”

Emma swallowed hard, feeling the action sharply in her temples, and a rush of jasmine billowed around her, almost making her feel like Milah was trying to protect her. Of course Milah was here still.

“What do you want me to say, Hook?” Emma's voice was barely audible, the tightness in her throat strangling the words as they came out.

“Let's try the truth this time, shall we?” His voice was dark and calm, like the sea before a storm, a malevolent gleam in his darkened blue eyes.

“Alright,” she said and turned to place her feet flat on the floor. She grimaced at the pain flowing through her body as she moved.

“Alright. So, you're a police officer.” It wasn't a question.

“I am. A detective in missing persons, to be specific.”

“And Gold?”

“I'm undercover right now investigating a string of missing women and at least one body that we've been able to link back circumstantially to him,” she told him honestly. Honesty was probably going to be the only chance she had at leaving here intact.

“And that's how you found me and how you know so much about me and my life, your research into Gold,” he prompted.

“No, the only thing that turned up when I searched your name that connected you to Gold was a slew of charges you were arrested for back in 2010 when you were fresh off the boat. Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be the mysterious ‘Hook’ as well.” She leaned forward, the bruised muscles in her shoulder and hip sparking with pain at the motion as she settled her forearms on her thighs.

“So my name and my more colorful moniker are not yet synonymous. Good to know. How did you learn of me before Gold, then? My name, that is. What prompted you to search for me?” His words were genuinely curious, as if he were solving an equation.

“Ah,” she said, clearing the tightness from her throat again. “That was Milah. And Liam. The medium part was true. I never expected to find you in the middle of all this.”

“Oh, not this bit again,” Killian scoffed.

Emma felt her temper rise up in her chest. "You know what, Hook?” she snapped, struggling not to wince as she pushed herself to standing. “I don't give a shit if you believe me or not anymore." "How can I believe anything you say?!” He stormed towards her, his own anger slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed facade. “Please, enlighten me, love. What brilliant bit of wisdom have the fates imparted upon you just now? Hmm?"

Stubborn arse, Milah said irritably. Emma snorted a laugh. "I don't know about the fates, but Milah thinks you're a stubborn ass." Killian did an almost comical double take. Idiot, the disembodied voice added. "And an idiot," Emma repeated with a smug smirk. "I am not stubborn, nor an idiot," he protested, sounding much like a petulant child, to Emma's great amusement. See. "She thinks you're proving her point," Emma replied, raising an eyebrow. "I kind of agree." "Oh, just bloody perfect. Gang up on me with a figment of your imagination." Hook ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends, frustrated. Listen, agrà, Milah murmured. "She wants you to listen to me, and she said that agrà word again." Emma folded her arms over her chest and stood her ground. "How the fuck did you learn that word?" he growled, stepping towards her and into her space. His chest almost brushed hers with every deep breath he took, and she could practically feel the tension vibrating off of him. "Milah," she replied with a nod, slowly enunciating the syllables and widening her eyes exaggeratedly.

He held her gaze, silence extending between the two of them, like he was willing her to say something different. Something he could accept as the truth. He let out a growl of irritation when she didn’t budge, turning and veritably stomping away from her. "Alright, let's play this game, then, Swan. Tell me something only she would know,” he snapped, leaning against the desk again and fiddling with his hook, rubbing the prosthetic like it was bothering him just as much as this whole discussion was, an action that did not go unnoticed by Emma. This exchange was going just as she expected it would have with anyone she revealed herself to, but it also still stung, no matter how she'd prepared for something like this her entire life. "You mean besides the ring thing and the nickname?" she pointed out. Killian glared. Cock and bull, Milah interrupted the rising hostility between the two. Emma flushed red at Milah's words and Killian visibly took notice of her change in demeanor. She knew it meant something different, but she couldn't help wanting to curl up in a ball and die at the thought of saying that word to this man, especially with the strain in the air already. She felt like a 15 year old girl. "What is it now?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and drawing her attention away from her own self loathing and embarrassment. "Uh, cock and bull," Emma muttered, reddening further. Killian's other brow swiftly made the climb up his forehead to join the first, his mouth dropping open slightly in sheer shock. He snapped it closed and narrowed his eyes, studying her. "Are you... embarrassed, Swan? You know it doesn't mean..." he gestured in front of him and she made a noise of exasperation. "I know, jackass," she snapped. "Get your mind out of the gutter." "Seems you had already beaten me to the gutter on that one, love," he teased, like he couldn't resist. "Whatever. Does it ring a bell or not?" He paused. "Aye." "So you believe me." "No." Stubborn mule pig headed arse. Emma laughed out loud, clapping a hand over her mouth immediately against the sound as pain exploded through her tender head, and Killian raised an eyebrow in question. Emma rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to stamp her foot. Apparently she was pulling out all the stops on the Teenage Angst Express today. She dropped her hand carefully, as not to jar her injured shoulder further before speaking again. "She's making a colorful point. About you." "Enough of this!" he roared but this time, Emma wasn't afraid. She was getting madder herself, in fact. "She says you're stubborn, again. A mule. A pig headed arse," she said, ignoring him and affecting a sarcastic British accent for the last bit. He gave her a dangerous glower and came to stand toe to toe with her once more, his hand balled into a white knuckled fist at his side, clearly trying to intimidate her.

“So I should just believe you because you knew about some pub I was going to open with Milah, then?” he growled.

“You should believe me because I'm telling you the truth! Think about it, Hook. How else would I know about these things?” Emma stared him down, not giving an inch.

His wild blue eyes should have frightened her, and they probably would have a few days ago. But now, she just felt understanding for him. She couldn't explain it, but she couldn't bring herself to be afraid. Her temper didn't help, her own anger dimming all other emotions in her brain. Seconds ticked by, the muscle twitching in his jaw keeping time as Emma's eyes bored into his. "Bah," he growled and turned away from her, pacing back to the metal desk, hand clenching and releasing, reminding Emma very much of an angry panther. It was then that Emma knew that he really wasn't going to hurt her. Tell her the truth, agrà. Emma froze at Milah's urging. "The truth about what, Milah?" she answered out loud, her eyes glued to Killian and he stiffened and spun back around on his heel. "What is she saying?" he asked with genuine curiosity and a sliver of unease, seemingly at the question itself.

“Oh, now you believe me,” Emma huffed in exasperation. Killian looked like he was going to refute the notion again but snapped his mouth shut and pursed his lips against the words, urging her to continue with just his eyes. Stubborn. “She wants you to tell me the truth.”

About Gold, Milah added.

“About Gold,” Emma repeated, her senses on full alert now. “What are you not telling me?”

Killian's jaw ticked again, and he didn't speak.

“Truth and trust run both ways, Killian,” she said and he inhaled sharply, his eyes searing into hers.

“It's a day for the names of the dead, it seems,” he said darkly. Emma blinked at that.

��That's your name, isn't it?” she said, flustered for words. Killian chuckled, a disparaged sound.

“That man is gone. He died with Milah and Liam,” he spat, tracing his finger along the edge of his prosthetic. “Hook is what has risen from the ashes.”

“God, you are so dramatic,” Emma laughed out a reply. Hook looked offended, surprised, and even slightly impressed in one fell swoop.

Always dramatic, Milah added and Emma snorted again.

“Milah says you've always been this way,” she filled him in.

“Oh, yes, as she's one to talk. She once screamed the bloody house down over a spider,” he shot back and Emma almost fell over at the acknowledgement of Milah's presence.

Jasmine swirled around her, a happy little flush of fragrance.

Big spider. Deadly. He went to hospital for a splinter.

“You went to the hospital for a splinter?” Emma raised an eyebrow and the pointed tips of Killian's ears flushed pink, in embarrassment this time, rather than rage. His hand came up to scratch behind his ear, giving him away completely.

“My foot went through a rotted board on the dock! I was impaled by a half the bloody plank!” he defended.

Splinter, Milah reaffirmed and Emma had had enough.

“Can we have this little lovers spat another time?” Emma near shouted, her eyes screwing shut against the throbbing in her temples and crown of her head. “What are you not telling me about Gold?”

“Why did you scream my brother’s name when you woke up?” he asked, refusing to answer her.

“Because I had an encounter with him while I was unconscious. He visits my dreams a lot. Now, tell me about Gold,” she demanded, trying to pull the focus where it was important.

“Is Liam here now as well?”

“No. Are you going to tell me about Gold?”

“I didn’t intend to, no.”

“Then I'm fucking leaving. I'm not wasting any more of my time here.” Emma marched over to the desk, intent on retrieving her gun and badge, but she should have known he was going to stop her. His hand closed around her bicep a moment later.

“Wait just a second.” The muscles of his jaw worked beneath the skin and scruff there, as if he were trying to work out the words to say.

“I don't have a second. I have to call my handler and sort this whole mess out. I don't have time to play games with you. I told you the truth, you don't believe me, that's your problem,” she snapped and tried to move around him again but his grip tightened, holding her in place.

“I've already texted him from your phone. Chapelle, right?” he replied. Emma's heart dipped into her stomach. “I spoke as you, let him know you were safe and that you'd call when the job was done.”

“Why?” She couldn't tell if the breathless quality of her voice was from fear or awe.

“Because we needed to talk.” He shrugged.

“And yet all you've done is argue with me, and Milah through me, and we've gotten exactly nowhere.” She yanked her arm from his grasp and stormed back to the couch, sitting down in a huff and massaging her aching skull.

She felt a dip in the cushion beside her, taking her by surprise. She peeked at Hook from the corner of one eye. He was gazing at her with a soft expression, his breathing more calm and even and he scrubbed a broad palm over his face, his jaw relaxing as he rubbed at it.

“You're right, Swan. This is just… it's just a lot to take in. And I've worked too hard to protect myself and take down Gold once and for all for it to be ruined because I got tangled up with the police.” Emma looked like she might interrupt him but he cut her off. “What I'm saying is I believe you, love. Despite my better judgement, I trust you're telling me the truth. And I think we can take Gold down together.”

Emma was sure her jaw had hit the floor. She stared blankly at him, periodically stammering out a few vowel sounds and he chuckled, reaching up slowly and tipping her mouth shut with a knuckle under her chin. He skimmed his thumb over the flesh there, just under her lip, and she felt heat unexpectedly rush to the surface of every inch of her skin even after he withdrew.

Work with him, Milah urged, interrupting whatever had just passed between them. Emma schooled her features into something more controlled and cleared her throat.

“What did you have in mind?”

Hook grinned at her acquiescence and stood, making his way back to retrieve the binder on the desk. He sat beside her and propped the binder on his hook, flipping it open and scooting so his thigh was pressed against hers. She felt dizzy. It was probably more the head wound than his closeness. Probably.

“Here, this is a shipping yard that Gold works out of,” he tapped on the page with dexterous fingers, showing several highlighted sections of an aerial map. “We have mapped out shipment processes and schedules, as well as security and entry points. We often use it to take shipments and keep ourselves afloat, but something big has been happening lately. They're moving something that has significantly more value than black market art and finery. Security has nearly doubled.”

“What does that have to do with my case?” Emma asked, leaning in to get a better look.

“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.” He shrugged, his shoulder brushing hers, and she stiffened slightly at the innocent contact. The spicy scent of his cologne invaded her senses and overwhelmed the jasmine that usually took residence there. “Fact is, if we can find out, you have leverage, darling. You can use it to find your women, if they are truly connected to him.”

Emma thought about this for a moment. Now that she was clearly out with Gold, this was her best option. Maybe she could work out some kind of deal for Hook as well, since he was being so cooperative. She could take down Gold, save these women, and save Killian Jones, all in the same instance. This would work. It had to.

“Alright, Killian,” she felt his breath hitch again beside her when she said his name, “I can work with this. You've got a deal.”

She looked up from the page at him and realized just how close he was. She could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over her cheek, and the blue of his eyes was even brighter up close, like two glittering pools of ocean water drawing her in. If she wasn't careful, she was afraid she could drown in them. His tongue poked out, tracing the inside of his bottom lip slowly, and she didn't even realize that she'd tracked the motion with her eyes until the corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk.

“Aye, love. I think we'll make quite the team.”

#Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind #Monday update #chapter 14 #csff #cs ff au #cs ff #CSSNS

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mercuriallycooperative · 6 years

Text

One of my long belated Steven Universe rewatch/reaction posts! Wow, I really did have lotsa thoughts about “Alone at Sea”, I can see why this stalled other posts. Also, it’s really long. Again, below is reproduced the unedited text of that reaction two years ago, typos and all. Blast from the past, isn’t it? I’m in no way caught up, so for all I know all these Jasper and Lapis issues have all been tidily dealt with in the meanwhile. I keep seeing other spoilers floating around whenever I browse my dashboard, ehehe... Something about one of the old theories being proven super super legit and ‘it was the truth all a long’ and revalidating some of the early speculative fic? Well, anyway. I’ll get to know the truth in time, I suppose. For now:

“Rewatching Steven Universe: Summer of Steven Edition”

Featuring: More Things I wrote before I did the first week’s worth of episodes!

(I wrote this second, immediately after the one for Monster Reunion. These are being posted in order now, though, finally.)

Week 2/Episode 9 of Summer of Steven (Thurs, July 28)

Alone at Sea

After watching for the first time:

Well then. That happened.

As much as I absolutely adore Lapis Lazuli, I do honestly like the fact that she is upset about what she did in the past, is guilty about the drawing away the ocean and the breaking Greg’s leg and the keeping Jasper trapped in a toxic fusion. Because yeah, those are things that are serious and need attention.

Like, I generally get the impression that during Ocean Gem and the taking of the sea that whole bit was a lot of panic and she probably severely mis-estimated the durability and strength of Steven, Connie, and Greg, because none of the things she was firing at then would have likely killed a gem, maybe poofed them or detained them, and Lapis strikes me as the oh-shit-that-was-overkill-wasn’t-it type. And while an actual “Sorry” to those involved would probably be good, and at the moment I think Lapis is kinda eaten up inside about a load of stuff, I think it’s generally good that she- I think what I’m trying to say is it’s good to see that Lapis is aware about how her actions have affected people.

Okay but Jasper though. I really, really appreciate the show did go into the fact that Lapis was wrong about the Malachite thing, that she acknowledges that she was doing it just to take out her anger on someone she was in control of, who she could feel like she had a reason to kick. I think they probably could have made that a little- not clearer, but maybe impressed the gravity of that a little more, because it did seem a little brushed off and a little like blame was deflected from Lapis there. I think maybe this will be addressed more in the future, though, next time we see Jasper maybe. Because on one hand, Lapis, that was super not okay. But on the other hand-

I get the impression that Lapis was terrorized at least a little on the way to Earth with Jasper and Peridot. Peridot mentions it was her that did the interrogating of Lapis, and “interrogating” puts me on alert right there, but like. There was something about Lapis’ body language, as it relates to Jasper and Peridot and her time on the Homeworld ship that, both now and at the time, made me really uncomfortable. Like. I dunno, my thoughts on Jasper are super nondescript, but she definitely makes me nervous, and coupled with Lapis’ experience trapped in a mirror for 5000-odd years, It’s not unreasonable to think that that is a reason Lapis acted so destructively, self destructively, and seemingly disproportionately.

Not a reason that excuses trapping someone in a shared mindspace so that you both basically kill eachother every day for months and give you both even more trauma. But it all does hint at the sort of rushing-headlong-into-this-is-TOTALLY-A-GOOD-IDEA-RIGHT-oh-god hysteria of decisionmaking that is not born of maliciousness, exactly, not the calculated kind. Just. A lot of bad stuff that ends up hurting everyone around you.

So like, we definitely need to see Lapis deal more with what happened with Jasper, and I think the show could do with impressing the idea that what happened was Not Okay a little more strongly. Like, in a Lapis and Jasper episode of Too Far+Back to the Barn+Friend Ship in terms of real talk, when (I hope) Lapis and Jasper are eventually both on the Side of Steven and Co., maybe.

Now, re: Jasper herself. Holy crap, that was moderately disturbing. Like, I’m worried about her now. (Also, she’s definitely not on Neptune- but definitely well within finding-the-gems-again range. I predict seeing her again before the Summer is out...) Like, she definitely doesn’t have her shit together. And I think- I get the impression that it’s a really unhealthy combination of power-drunk from any of the times she wrested control of Malachite from Lapis for moments, plus the trauma of Lapis using her considerable mental discipline (re: being able to control her hydromancy so well and at such volume) to take out her pain and anger on Jasper.

At the same time- I don’t want to be excusing Jasper any more than I want to be excusing Lapis. Jasper, most recently, immediately turned to threaten Steven after Lapis refused to re-fuse. During Jailbreak, the whole let’s-dangle-Lapis-in-the-air-and-tell-her-”Fuse with me”-and-”Just say yes” set off a number of alarms, and in a meta-sense, given that the Crewniverse has been good about what vibe comes across as a precursor to what information, I’m really getting the feeling something was up there.

It’s just, we haven’t really seen much from Jasper. She’s a threat (an old general) because she was sent by Homeworld (the oldest enemy) and of course some of that (must be) is a product of Homeworld and what they are but the question (one of them) is how much we can say Homeworld has super brainwashed her- because like. With Peridot, we’re getting the impression she’s young. She’s said it- that she’s one of the new Peridots. Presumably fairly recent, after the Rebellion, during the reign of this New Homeworld. And a lot of her, her lack of scope, her loud, bouncing-around superiority and her everything-in-its-place, it may come from the Diamond she served under, but it’s as likely it comes from the Homeworld that she was created in. But Jasper? She’s of the Old Homeworld. The likes of which created Centipeetle and Lapis and so much has changed, we’re told, between the new and the old.

Lapis was trapped in the mirror. Time likely passed so strangely, for a trapped, cracked gem whose purpose was to be a seeing-glass. And Centipeetle was corrupted, her mind trapped in mazes and probably either some amount of pain or some amount of- of insensibility, of hazy dissociation, but living ages and ages on Earth. And the Crystal Gems of course had their post-war cleanup mission of the world, and all the little history contained therein.

They were all, bar Steven and Amethyst, born of old Homeworld and the fires of the Rebellion.

So was Jasper. And of course Jasper had the added something (I won’t say benefit nor will I say misfortune) of seeing Homeworld change before her eyes. The changes that so shocked Lapis were ones that Jasper likely experienced firsthand. Jasper is old enough to have been an adversary on (what seems to be fairly) even keel with Rose Quartz.

Honestly, while I think Jasper is certainly more complicated than The Big Bad Evil Gem and that she’s certainly not to blame for all the badness that’s been going down, not least of which I mean Lapis and the choices she’s made...

I think that it doesn’t give Jasper enough credit, to say “Oh well she’s a product of The System and as soon as we get a chance to say things to her she’ll be toast legit Cheetomom”. Like maybe there’s a whole lot Jasper just doesn’t have the context for because Homeworld sucks and has toxic messages fucking everywhere but like. Jasper still has her own agency. And as far as I can tell, she’s old enough (experienced enough) to know that, the same way Pearl (when she’s not flipping her shit) knows that, the same way Garnet and Lapis know that.

If we respect her at all, Jasper needs to get the same responsibility for her actions/behaviour/personality that all the other characters get shit for when they act mean, or coercive, or otherwise threatening.

We dissect every second of, say, Pearl’s behaviour, or Amethyst’s, or Lapis’, or (a little less) even Garnet’s and Steven’s. And we pick out their traumas and neuroses and pasts and biases and some of the internet screams YOU ARE SHIT FOREVER BECAUSE OF THIS and some of the internet screams YOU ARE A PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL WHO CAN DO NO WRONG but the other parts of the internet (of the SU side of Tumblr) are pretty careful about saying, “Okay you have a reason for this thing, and I get that, but it doesn’t excuse you for the thing, and so accept responsibility, and we’ll move on and love you still”.

Jasper should be treated likewise.

... okay so that descended into a rant about ~70% of my Jasper related thoughts. I’ll probably have more after I end up reading the contents of my dashboard since last night. I’ve totally lost track of the rest of the episode.

Time to rewatch it and pick out more interesting bits!

1) Lapis looks happier, at the beginning of the episode. I like the little bit about Steven reminding her to close her eyes, on account of the last time Lapis could totally see through her wings.

2) It’s interesting how Greg is still keeping himself so friendly, even as his introduction is an awkward you-broke-my-leg-that-one-time. It’s very much the same way he greeted Marty, actually- very cordial even though he was uncomfortable. Very much just being the bigger person, not to be superior, but just. Keeping everything friendly-like.

3) For that matter, regarding introductions, Lapis looks very awkward receiving that introduction- it looks to me like both the okay-I-was-not-expecting-that-introduction-that-was-weird-how-do-I-respond-to-this and the sheepish-kinda-guilty sort of awkward. This is how I interpret it, of course, but...

4) “It was more than one [bad experience” says Lapis, regarding her time at the bottom of the ocean with Jasper. I’m curious what she means by this. More than one bad experience, yes, but- more than one bad experience with Jasper at the bottom of the ocean? More than one with Jasper, including time on the hand ship? I might be forgetting something in the rush of new episodes, but, this seems interesting to me. Or was she referring, there was more than one bad aspect to her experiences as Malachite, both the damage Jasper did fighting her, and the damage Lapis did fighting Jasper, and, in that last one, the damage Lapis hints later at having done to herself in terms of becoming someone she doesn’t want to be?

5) “I don’t deserve this.” Lapis definitely knows she’s done some stuff that’s not on. And she’s had time enough to work through some of the things that’ve happened, and to her credit she’s being fairly open with Steven despite what I see as some very reticent tendencies.

6) Actually, those kind of make sense. Lapis spent over 5000 years in a mirror, as an object, meant for the express purpose of revealing personal information without her consent. Even used as a general information device- or perhaps it was only that Pearl assumed that was her purpose- that’s a long time with very little agency about how she could communicate with others. So long spent having to communicate what she doesn’t want to, unable to communicate what she does, and then shortly after her release being interrogated (in one way or another) by Homeworld, is it any wonder that Lapis wants to work things out for herself and not spill all her thoughts with others? Is it any wonder that she has a hard time doing so?

7) It’s interesting, Steven just brushes aside the “I don’t deserve this” with an “Of course you do!” I think that for a lot of Steven’s life, he was able to solve a lot of problems this way. And a lot of the time, that’s because the problems he was fixing, the personal ones, were because of personally directed aggression without anything to back it up- intrusive thoughts, the perpetual self-esteem gremlins that are made of unsureness and the ghosts of a thousand poisoned thoughts. It’s less common that he’s really had to deal with people who have seriously done a thing wrong some time where he hasn’t been around to see it- he saw Amethyst shapeshift into his mother, he say Pearl’s deception about Sardonyx, he saw Peridot working for Yellow Diamond, and so he can understand that sometimes things need working out. But Steven- he also sticks so staunchly with people, believes so firmly that people default to good- as with Lars, I think in some ways Steven is still naive. And recently, he’s been going through stuff that pushes him to work on that.

8) Who the hell names a boat the S.S. Misery?

9) I do appreciate that Lapis finds the name of the boat and their poor attempts to cover it with a moniker based on her own amusing. I appreciate a sense of humor like that.

10) “Don’t put me in charge!” “You shouldn’t trust me with the boat.” Again, picking through this episode I do see evidence that Lapis is working through a lot of guilt regarding her fusion with Jasper. I think she needs a talk with someone who’s not Steven- but I’m at a loss as to who would even remotely be a good person for that. Amethyst has a 50-50 chance of brushing it off like Steven or being legit serious about it, Pearl would commiserate and have a 50-50 chance of having a guilty-spiral party or giving some good advice, Peridot doesn’t have any of the fusion-related context for this and would likely brush off the whole thing, and Garnet would be great except there’s a 90 percent chance of something in the conversation being horribly upsetting to her, and a non-zero percent chance that Lapis would end up seriously on the shit list. Like. All together with an open dialogue, they’d likely get a good problem-solving issue-addressing dialogue going, but that’s always the case. And how often does that sort of conversation happen.

11) I just noticed Lapis hydromancing the orange juice in her champagne flute idly, and it’s great.

12) Also, actually, when Lapis answers “I’m not putting that on my body” all bluntly about the hat and Greg just takes it in stride, it occurs to me that he’s probably used to that exact reaction from Pearl about all sorts of human things.

13) While I think that Steven is really good at just- being a good balm for grief in the soul, making people a little happier, just for a bit, I think maybe the fact that he keeps interrupting Lapis whenever she starts reflecting is kind of a double ended spear. Like. I think she does need time to reflect and come to conclusions and start figuring out where she stands- as in Barn Mates where it’s pretty clear that she needs some space. On the other hand, it’s likely she’s been spending a lot of time since then brooding, so one day of lightness would probably do some good. Just. It has to be a day when Jasper shows up and the starts of the breach of all the issues floating around. Well, it had to be sooner or later I guess.

14) I honestly can’t tell if Lapis and Steven’s enjoyment of the boat’s foghorn is because it’s a loud, moderately obnoxious noise, or if it’s because it’s a loud, moderately obnoxious noise that’s kinda reminiscent of the humorously timed fart noises they bonded over.

15) Lapis just really wants to help and to impress Steven. Even if it’s in ways *cough* floating water sphere of fish *cough* that are moderately alarming. I think even as we delve deeper into the less pure-cinnamon-roll aspects of Lapis’ character, it’s important to remember that, regardless of the rest of things, the be-helpful/impress-Steven thing is a really big part of her personality now.

16) And, despite the control Lapis must have to do so much of what she hydromances, I think she kinda needs to work on the smoothly-putting-things-back part. Although given, I suspect that may sacrifice speed to some extent.

17) It’s interesting that Lapis quiets Steven when he’s about to start gushing over her powers again.

18) The description of how-to-fish seems very much like some sort of meta-commentary or subtextual information about the current state of affairs.

19) Also, the entire fishing part was just me waiting for something to trigger somebody’s wave of discomfort/trauma about something related for the catching/eating of the fish. Although actually, description of the fish-catching as a metaphorical construct aside, it occurs to me that gems who aren’t heavily human socialized (so, anyone not Garnet, Pearl, Amethyst, or Steven) would probably not see have any immediate unsettled response to any flesh-ilfe-form’s blood and internal workings beyond “this is messy”. Like, they’d have no reason to have the awkward sympathetic discomfort that I think a lot of humans get about such things, because of course gems aren’t flesh-life-forms.

20) When the boat starts shaking, I love the fact that Lapis immediately asks Steven what’s going on, like, Yes Lapis the Boat Shaking is a Very Important Human Boating Ritual, Perfectly Normal. It’s great.

21) Okay so wait. There was trouble with something (presumably Jasper) fouling up the rudder somehow (I’m imagining her accidentally getting her hair caught in there to be honest) and that’s legit okay plot is happening. But like. The engine also gave out. Is that a that thing fouling up the rudder can even do, or did Greg just happen to rent a boat that would have a) possibly gotten someone with no gem powers at hand stranded in the middle of the ocean to maybe starve to death and b) stuttered to a stop possibly forcing awkward conversation and weirdness even if plot wasn’t happening around it?

22) “It’s my fault. I’m the one to blame.” For the boat breaking, Lapis? “I can’t stop thinking about being fused as Malachite. How I used all my strength to hold her down in the ocean, how I was always battling against Jasper to keep her bound to me.” Okay, that’s guilt, I’m getting, that’s guilt, and probably some pain of injury, and what were those two throwing at each other down their in their minds? For that matter- did Malachite the fusion have even any chance to form a mind for herself? (Maybe it would be better if she didn’t have.)

23) “But it’s not like that anymore,” says Steven. Oh god, I didn’t notice this the first time. That’s the same thing Peridot says when trying to make up with Lapis before she’s ready. And the same point applies here- maybe it isn’t like that anymore, but the past still matters, what’s happened to us and what we’ve done still matters. And I think that Steven, who forgives (people who aren’t Marty or Kevin or Jasper) so very easily, who loves and (almost always) lets go of bitterness (particularly recently as his powers have started working and he doesn’t have to be afraid of not having them) and who’s succeeded (often enough that he’s trusted to do his thing) so much that he assumes his way is the correct one, Steven doesn’t necessarily get so much that even when a thing is done, it takes more than a skip, a hop, and a song to make the past better.

24) “You don’t have to be with Jasper.” Steven, oh Steven. I don’t think that she ever really did. And Lapis knows that.

25) “That’s not it. I miss her.” It occurs to me that her time as Malachite is probably the longest time, the first time, she’s spent in a stable (by which I mean ‘not likely to randomly change without her input’) situation over which she had any control at all for the last 5000 years. Trapped in the mirror, she had no agency. As Homeworld’s/Jasper’s/Peridot’s prisoner, she had no agency. But as Malachite, Lapis was a driving force bolting them together; as long as she didn’t let go, she had a lot of the power. It isn’t an excuse and it certainly isn’t right, but, is it any wonder really that Lapis misses the certainty of a fight against someone she had a reason (and an excuse) to fight, the certainty of a fight that she, for a long time, was winning? “We were fused for so long...“ Longer than any fusion bar Garnet that we have any precedent about.

26) “But- she’s terrible!” Steven only knows Jasper as an enemy, who, you know, knocked him out and also poofed (killed part of his mind probably insists in nightmares) one of his mothers in front of him. And that was his first experience with her- even Peridot, with her robonoids and suchforth, left a more neutral impression (even if this was partially because it happened before Steven had much context at all for Homeworld and what an invasion might mean). Jasper’s alarmingness (see a few points down) and sudden let’s-attack-Steven from this episode probably did not help that impression at all. I think Jasper might be Steven’s next big hurdle of understanding-folks. I hope we get a Jasper redemption, but I also hope we see Steven’s processing the way he distrusts Jasper, and see him (hopefully) decide to give her the chance he’s given others.

26) “I’m terrible! I did horrible things- I broke your dad’s leg, I stole Earth’s ocean- Go on! Tell me I’m wrong!” Honestly, even without Jasper’s sudden appearance, I feel like this episode could have got a whole lot done. Like. This conversation with Steven and Lapis definitely needs to happen. As much as Lapis needs Steven’s optimism and love and brightness, she needs him to stop brushing what she did under the table, she wants him to stop brushing it under the table. It probably makes her feel like she’s deceiving him, like she’s hiding things from him in order to have his support. And Steven needs to stop brushing it under the table so he can better help Lapis, and for his own safety- not from Lapis but in general. This black-and-white view of good-bad, even heavily skewed toward white, could well have him walking into a situation that just needs him to leave it alone for a little, to address very real issues and dangers.

27) Jasper appears, and her expression is moderately alarming. Like, all that fan art of how Jasper smiling friendly-like is still alarming? That alarming, but moreso because in this context it makes her look... like she’s been upset somehow. Like, in the literal stirred around until her behaviour is all in odd order way.

28) Also, given the rest of the day, I’m wondering how much Lapis may be thinking am I hallucinating did my thinking about her so much summon her wait are we still trapped somewhere am I still trapped somewhere is this reality Steven do you see her too? or stuff like that.

29) Okay the Lapis flinching as Jasper approaches does lead me to think that Jasper did something at some unspecified time that made a large mark on Lapis’ Afraid-Of-This meter.

30) “She’s the one you should be afraid of.” Jasper, are you implying you are afraid of Lapis? And hiding it (working through it) because as an old general (an old soldier) you’re used to that much? Also, Jasper, even sharing space with Lapis for months hasn’t taught you that Steven is not his mother? (Then again, it could be deliberate stubbornness as a reaction to any point of view Lapis has...)

31) “That’s not true.” I think, what Lapis means it that Steven specifically has nothing to fear from her.

32) “I thought I was a brute. But you, you’re a monster.” What the hell happened down there guys. What the hell. (Also. Is Jasper meaning particularly things Lapis did to her, while keeping them trapped together? Or is Jasper meaning that she’s seen bits of memories of things Lapis has done in the long-past, before or during the war? During Lapis’ much obscured history.)

33) Okay, the hitting Steven so hard he goes flying (or, for that matter, at all) is just not on. Jasper, we know Lapis wronged you, but that’s not how you continue this dialogue. (On a meta level, with that move that is clearly not okay, is the Crewniverse trying to make two wrongs don’t make a right very, very clear? And also, for that matter, keep Jasper established as Not Yet Good At All but More Complicated Than You Think? There was that magic the gathering color identity tweet or post or whatever by someone of the Crewniverse who also said we’ll be seeing some of that Complicated later, so...)

34) Where is Greg during all this, how much does he see, how much does he hear?

35) “Let’s be Malachite again!” “Why... would you want that?” It’s really, really alarming actually to see Jasper in that position of supplication. Like. Holy shit. None of these kids are okay. And Lapis’ expression seems to put across the same what the fuck oh shit you’re not okay are you.

36) Jasper’s whole Fusion Is Great Now We Can Be Super Strong! Stronger Even That Either Of Us! is really rather disturbing when put into both the context of Homeworld and it’s gem experiments thing and its cross-gem-fusions-are-an-abomination-that-must-all-die thing and in the context of Garnet’s major issues with fusing just to be stronger.

37) But. “We could fly!” I can understand that. We only saw the short shot of them flying in battle against Alexandrite, but, is it possible that between trying to mentally kill the fuck out of each other, that Malachite (how much of her independently there ever was) or Jasper and Lapis just. Flew somewhere as fast as they could go, trying to escape themselves?

38) For that matter- obviously Malachite is a very literally toxic fusion (google malachite gemstone toxicity for more information on that fun symbolism). But in other cases, what’s the difference between fusing solely for power, and fusing because you become someone you enjoy being because you can do such wonderful things which include, yes, flying and being extremely strong? Isn’t that what Sugilite has been, when we’ve seen her? As long as all parties are cool with each other to begin with, seriously, where are we drawing the line?

39) The whole dialogue between Lapis and Jasper is just really, really twisted up. “It’ll be better this time! I’ve changed! You’ve changed me!” promises Jasper, who by Lapis’ own account was the one so much was being taken out on. It’s like. Two abuse narratives being twisted back around upon one another, compounding each other. Yeah... none of these people are okay.

40) “I’m the only one that can handle your kind of power!” It’s tugging at my memory, but I’ve heard this line before. Read it somewhere, in a situation like this... An old Xena fanfic, a Buffy fanfic? Whatever it was, it was not of the good, and both people involved were hurting eachother in exactly this way.

41) Okay so people keep giving Lapis shit about punching Jasper off the boat without apologizing or actually fixing any of their issues beyond airing them a bit, but might I just point out that Lapis punched Jasper off the boat and far away immediately after Jasper began charging Steven and shouting “I’ll shatter you!” ? Steven is still squishy and not at all up to any sort of combat with Jasper, and it is certainly not wrong for anybody’s first reaction to be Keep the threat away from Steven!

42) Is this a new ending song? Like, a new part of the ever-progressing ending song? Huh. Cool.

Well that got long. Lots of thoughts and conclusions. See you next time, folks.

#steven universe #su spoilers #spoilers #steven universe spoilers #Alone at Sea #Lapis Lazuli #Jasper #my contribution #rewatch #rewatching steven universe

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drizzitwrites · 5 years

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Football RPF Challenge - Day 27: Compromise

I had less time to write than I would like today, but life goes like that some days. After not getting anything meaningful (I thought about writing and sketched some things out, which counts as writing time because it's all valuable to the process, but produced no new words) done the last two days I was really hoping to make something out of today. It's weird, because for both Sunday and yesterday I had scenes in mind, but for whatever reason they just didn't go.

Today's theme is "compromise," which is a fairly broad theme and I had a hard time calling up any specific scenes where this needs to happen. I mean, it's another thing where it's weird because they sort of do this all the time with things, because that's how stable relationships work, but I was thinking about upcoming things and it's a lot of all-or-nothing. I mean, in some instances Vincent's literally not in a position to do anything about anything either because he's waiting on news about his future or because he's injured and not allowed to put any weight on his foot, so he doesn't exactly have any credibility when he's trying to insist that Christian stop fussing over him or bringing him food or making him a bed on the sofa or anything, because he can't actually do any of it himself.

This led me to a thought about my next fic in a scene I've made mention of in another scene I wrote. Where it's the night of Vincent's injury and he's decided to sleep on his sofa so he doesn't bother Christian, but then wakes up in the middle of the night and is trying to get down the hall to the toilet and is of course making ALL MANNER of noise, which wakes Christian up anyway. Vincent feels badly that he's woken Christian (it's the night before a match), but Christian just wants to make sure Vincent is okay, so he ends up staying up to help Vincent and when Vincent wants to go back into his room and tells Christian to do the same because he's sure he'll keep him up if they're together, Christian fights him on it and what happens is that Vincent ends up in the guest room because it's closer to the bathroom if he needs to get up and Christian insists on sleeping in there with him even though Vincent thinks he won't get good rest. But Christian says that he's not getting good rest alone in his bed worrying about Vincent so this way at least he'll be here and know if Vincent needs anything. Compromise.

But! As convinced as I was that this was the scene for me to write today, I changed my mind just as I sat down to start. It's still a scene that's set the same evening, but it's about Christian wanting to stay home with Vincent instead of going to Friday night dinner at Toby's house and Vincent insisting that he goes because he should see his friends and not just sit home and watch Vincent sleep (he's on some fairly serious pain medication at this point so all he does is sleep and feel generally horrible with very little else in-between). It ends up also being a compromise and is another key scene around the main theme of the fic of Vincent being glad to be there in Christian's company, but also being generally angry and sad and not wanting to bring Christian down or take him away from his life, so he begs out of a lot of things and sends Christian away to live his life a lot even though they'd generally both rather just sit inside Christian's house and appreciate their time together more often than not.

Despite me not really having a solid grip on things going into this and thinking I’d only be able to write for an hour, I actually got really into this scene and pushed aside some other tasks tonight so I could finish it. I’m quite pleased with how it’s come out for a first draft.

Content warning for illness and prescription pain relievers in case anyone needs it.

Christian's phone let out an insistent buzz that seemed to shake the entire sofa and drill its way straight into the centre of Vincent's brain.

Too sick and exhausted to do anything about it, even if he <em>could</em> manage to figure out where the noise was coming from and make it stop, Vincent let it ring.

And ring.

After the third cycle, Vincent risked flicking his eyes open and shifting around to locate the phone. He regretted it immediately as once again the room tilted around him, his stomach lurching and swooping along with it. He slammed his eyelids closed, sucking in deep breaths and swallowing down the nausea for what felt like the hundredth time that day, and buried his face into the comforting fabric of his sofa.

Another ring, and Vincent was close to saying fuck it all, fighting back the waves of dizziness and sickness until he could locate the source of the sound, fling his arm out to grab hold of it, and throw it across the room as hard as he could. Which, all things considered, probably wasn't that far. At worst, he figured, it would topple to the floorboards at the foot of the sofa as he shoved it away. Probably wouldn't even scratch the screen.

Thankfully, Vincent heard Christian's soft footfalls on the stairs just before he resorted to anything drastic.

"Christiaan," he yelled out. Or, tried to yell out, but his face was still jammed into the sofa cushion so it came out as more of a muffled groan.

"Vince?" Christian's voice immediately rushing closer, laced with the same concern Vincent had been hearing there all day. Ordinarily, he'd fight back about it, telling Christian he was fine and not to worry about him, he could take care of himself, but in this case he found he didn't mind a little bit of sympathy and coddling.

"Your phone," Vincent said, still not bothering to move his face out of the sofa cushion.

"What?" Christian asked, voice closer now, just beside Vincent's ear. His hand rested warm and heavy on Vincent's back, just between his shoulder blades.

"Phone," Vincent said again, this time managing to lever himself a few centimetres upward as he spoke the word before crashing back to the sofa.

"Wha...oh."

Christian's hand pressed down harder against his spine for a few seconds as he leaned over to retrieve his phone from where it rested on the arm of the sofa nearest Vincent's head. He settled back down, crouched on the floor beside the sofa, his right hand now absentmindedly rubbing small, soothing circles into Vincent's skin.

"Ugh," he said after a moment. "I think he's just going to keep calling until I answer him. One second, okay. Just let me tell him I won't be making it tonight and then I'm all yours, okay?"

At this, Vincent shifted, lifting his head and dropping it to the side so he could look over at Christian through heavy-lidded eyes.

"Who's there?"

"Hm," Christian said, still staring down at the screen of his phone. "Oh. Toby. I imagine it's about...well I imagine it's about a lot of things, but mostly--"

"Dinner," Vincent said, cutting in before Christian could finish. He wasn't quite sure why or how he'd come to it, but somewhere in the back of his drug-clouded brain something clicked.

Friday night. Weekly dinner with the Eredivisie contingent.

"Yeah," Christian said. "That, and probably he's wanting to know if everything is okay since I sort of ran away from training without warning and never turned back up again. I sent him a text to let him know what happened, but I haven't checked in since we've arrived back home. I'll call him back and let him know I won't be making it and they should go ahead without me."

He leaned in and pressed blessedly cool lips to Vincent's forehead then stood up, fingers already swiping at the screen of his phone.

Vincent looked up at him for a second then squinted his eyes back shut against the harsh glare of the overhead light that haloed Christian--silhouetting him against the brightness and casting his features into vague, indistinct shadows. A second, and then Christian's words clicked through the fog in his mind.

"Why aren't you going?"

"What?"

"Dinner. Why aren't you going?" Vincent repeated, speaking slowly this time in an attempt to force his words to come out a bit clearer.

"Why am I not...what kind of question is that?"

Vincent sucked in a deep breath then pressed his hand into the sofa cushion and levered himself upward. He held the pose for a second, then gritted his teeth against the pain and the wave of nausea he knew was coming, and dropped back down to lay on his side, facing outward into the room.

He took a moment to regain his bearings, drawing and releasing a few more deep breaths until the sensations subsided and he could at least somewhat competently form words again.

"You never miss dinner," he said. "It's a thing. All of you. Unless someone is literally on their deathbed your presence is expected."

Christian let out a breath of a laugh and then dropped back down to sit beside the sofa once more. In his hand, his phone once more took up its insistent buzz and he swiped at the screen until the noise ceased.

"Wacht even, Toby," he said, frowning down at the screen before turning back to Vincent.

He reached up and ran a hand through Vincent's hair, brushing it away from his forehead. "Liefje, this is as close to 'on your deathbed' as I'd like to see. I think everyone can forgive me one dinner."

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself relax into Christian's soft strokes smoothing at his hair. It had to feel horrible--stiff and greasy with long-dried sweat and the styling paste he'd used earlier that morning--but Christian didn't seem to mind.

He'd nearly drifted off, lulled to sleep by the soothing sensation of Christian's warm hand in combination with the pain relievers and the bone-deep exhaustion that had set in after the constant chaos of his day. He felt like he could sleep for days, and, honestly, that sounded like the most pleasing option of all--sleep right on through the weekend, blissfully unaware of the throbbing in his foot or the brain fog and illness from the drugs and especially the periodic realisation of what this all meant.

No Fener. No football. Not even allowed to put weight on his foot for weeks. Ready to go by January if he was lucky, but what team would want an out-of-form striker who hadn't played a full match in over a year?

Here in London, wrapped up in Christian's life for at least four more months, but at what cost.

Maybe he could fall asleep and wake up to find out this whole, horrible day had been nothing but a nightmare.

He flicked his eyes open to see Christian's face, eyes still laced with concern and fixed on his. His phone, back to vibrating with Toby's call once more, lay in his lap, ignored.

"'m so tired," Vincent mumbled, and Christian gave him a smile.

"I know. Sleep, Liefje. I'll be right here."

Vincent made a sound that was something between a snort and a groan. "You can't sit on the floor all night."

Christian's smile widened and he let out a small laugh. "No. Probably not. My feet are already getting pins and needles. Go to sleep and I'll go call Toby back and bring up a chair to sit in."

"No," Vincent said. He tried to put as much force as possible behind the word, but it still came out as a feeble whine.

"Vincent," Christian said, with all the gentle insistence of a parent trying to reason with a small child, "Go to sleep. It will be okay. I'll only be downstairs for a few moments and then I'll be right back here with you if you need anything."

Vincent felt like he was swimming through cotton wool, desperately trying to pull the thoughts and words out of his brain. His eyes fell closed once more and he fought against it, forcing them wide so he could stay awake and stay focused on Christian.

"No," he said again, though with somehow less force behind the words than previously. "That's not...I don't...Godverdamme I hate this. I can't think straight."

He lifted a hand to his face, his arm feeling like a dead weight as he dragged it towards him and jammed his thumb joint into his forehead as though somehow he might be able to press the thoughts in his mind into some kind of order.

"Shh," Christian said, his gentle strokes through Vincent's hair now faster as he worked to soothe Vincent. "Liefje, everything is going to be okay."

Vincent let out a long, low whine, but dropped his hand back to the sofa.

"No, Chris. I know. I'm just..." his voice weak and fractious in his own ear, and he hated this. Hated that he could do nothing but lay here, helpless, not even able to communicate his thoughts with any sort of coherence.

Deep breath, and he let it out slowly.

In front of him, Christian's phone once again resumed its insistent buzzing.

"In godsnaam, Christiaan, answer your fucking phone."

Christian's eyes went wide at Vincent's sudden outburst and he shifted back, a miniscule movement, but enough for Vincent to see he'd caught Christian off-guard.

"Yes," Christian said, voice soft and calm. "I'll just..."

He held up his phone then scooted away from the sofa, his hand leaving Vincent's hair and dragging across his cheek with the movement.

"Christiaan," Vincent said, calmer now, and Christian stopped.

"What, Vincent?"

"I'm...trying to say..." Vincent sighed and tried again. "Go to Toby's. Have dinner with your friends."

"But you're--"

"I'm tired and I don't feel good and I honestly just want to sleep for the next year and wake up and find out this was all a horrible dream."

"Oh, Liefje," Christian once again reached for him, but this time stopped short of his head and instead wrapped Vincent's hand up in his.

"No," Vincent said once more. "It's not...you don't have to stay. You shouldn't stay here and watch me sleep. Go out. Be with your friends. I'll be fine."

Christian shook his head, the movement making Vincent's head spin until he squeezed his eyes shut.

"The doctors said someone should stay with you. To make sure things are going alright with the pain medicine. You've already been sick from them, I don't want to leave you here alone."

Vincent let out another half-groan, half-whimper.

"Chris, I'll be alright. The worst of the sickness has passed and I'm just so tired. If you're worried about the floors, then leave the bin by the sofa. I'll call you if it gets really bad. Honestly, I'll probably just sleep the whole time and won't even notice you're away."

"It's not that, it's..." Christian trailed off. "I'd rather stay. I'll feel better if I stay."

"It's not..." Vincent sucked in another breath as he worked to unjumble the words on his tongue. "It's not that I don't want you here. I do. I don't know what I would have done today without you, but... you have your life, too. The dinners are important to you and with Toby's plans still uncertain..."

"I'll see them all tomorrow," Christian cut in, but Vincent shook his head, the movement once again setting everything to rocking and tipping.

"Go. There's no sense you sitting around here on a Friday night watching me sleep. Tell everyone I said 'hi' and good luck in tomorrow's match."

Christian didn't say anything for long moments, and Vincent had to fight to hang onto his consciousness in the heavy silence of the room.

"You'll call me?" Christian asked. "Anything at all, and you'll call me? I'm just up the street at Jan's, I can be back here in ten minutes."

"Go, Lieveke," Vincent said, forcing his eyes open once again so he could stare over at Christian. "I'll call you, I promise."

Another long silence, Christian worrying at his bottom lip, Vincent's hand still firmly clasped in his, and Vincent did his best to give it a feeble squeeze.

Eventually, Christian let out a strangled noise, then climbed to his feet. He shook out his legs a bit, first one, then the other, almost certainly trying to work the feeling back into them after spending the past several minutes sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor.

"Okay. I'll go. But just for dinner, I'm not staying for the board games or any of it. Two hours, tops, and then I'll be back."

He stepped away from the sofa, then lifted his phone, jabbed at the screen, and held it to his ear before ducking out of the room and into the hallway.

Vincent let his eyes fall closed once more, but he kept up his battle against the sleep that threatened to overtake him. He wanted to at least be awake to see Christian off, if he could.

Christian's half of the phone conversation drifted in through the door, his voice hushed and low. Vincent tuned in on it, trying to discern which of his friends Christian might be speaking with. It had been Toby who had kept up the insistent stream of phone calls and messages, but from the sounds of things, Christian was speaking to one of the others instead.

"...fine," Christian said. "He's...well, honestly I don't know. Physically it's...not good, but..."

A pause and then.

"Yes. But only for dinner. I don't want to be away longer than I have to."

"No. He's actually the one insisting that I go."

Vincent smiled at that, picturing the exasperated eye roll he could hear in Christian's voice.

"Yes. I hope you don't mind that I'm not exactly dressed for dinner. I just about managed to get a shower in earlier. Things have been...I'll tell you about it later."

Another long pause and then. "Right. Speak soon."

A second later, Christian slipped into the room. Vincent flicked his eyes open once more and gave him what he hoped was his most encouraging smile. "Go, Lieveke</em>. Have fun with your friends. You deserve it after today."

Christian laughed at this, then shook his head. "You're the one lying there sick and in pain and you're telling me I deserve a night out? You're really something."

Vincent tried to return the laugh, but all that came out was a weak cough. "Oh. I deserve several nights out, but I don't really think that's in the cards for me this evening. Anyway, it's the least I can do for you after probably destroying the interior of your car."

"Ugh," Christian said, wrinkling his nose at the memory of their harrowing drive home a few hours ago. "How could I have forgotten that? I can't go out. My car is..."

"You can take mine," Vincent said. "Keys are...somewhere. Fuck if I know."

He let his eyes slide shut once again, and Christian bent down and pressed another cool kiss to his forehead. "I'll find them. Sleep well. Call me if you need anything."

"I will, Christian. I promise. Just go. Have fun. Tell everyone I said hi."

Christian leaned into the kiss for a second, smooth lips pressing a wet mark into Vincent's skin, then ruffled a hand through Vincent's hair one last time, straightened up, and stepped back.

Vincent heard him rustling around in the corner of the room for a bit, presumably looking for Vincent's keys. He tried to break once more out of the grip of sleep, but it was clear he was about to lose the battle this time. He mumbled a sleepy "Ik hou van je." in Christian's direction, and slid into darkness before he heard Christian's reply.

#football rpf #cw: illness #30-day football rpf challenge #30-day writing challenge #30-day challenge #christian eriksen x vincent janssen #writing #drizzit writes #november writing #thoughts on writing and life

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kuriquinn · 7 years

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Miso Soup Everyday

Summary: This is supposed to be a certainty – the one sure thing in his entire life. Yet he can't fight the same mounting apprehension he experiences when crossing into a dimension he's never visited before.

Disclaimer: This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the fandom. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organisations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelisations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016—)

Warning: Spoilers for everything in Naruto (up to Chapter 700).

Canon-Compliance: This work is loosely part of the Legacy of Fire series. It is and is not canon-compliant (for reasons that will be made clearer in my as yet unnamed and unwritten Sakura/Sasuke Blank Period Pre Pregnancy Get Together travel fic. Yes, it’s kind of complicated.

Beta Reader: Sakura’s Unicorn

Honestly, it’s a bit of a role reversal.

When they were children, Sasuke was the aloof one—cool and confident, perpetually at ease in his role as the storied prodigy of Konoha. He was the genius of Team Seven, overshadowing Sakura’s presence as if she was only an afterthought. Naruto and he had their rivalry between them, so it was all too easy to consider Sakura as a barely requisite third wheel. Insecure and needy, she trailed after him like a puppy.

That’s no longer true.

These days, it’s Sakura (alongside Naruto) who is the beacon of hope in the community, the hero little children crowd excitedly around when she walks through the streets. Sasuke is the one people don’t think of—or rather, prefer not to think of. He’s the third wheel of the Sannin’s heirs, whose reputation is maintained only by his connection to the other two. He might have helped to save the planet, but it’s Sakura’s name that opens doors.

And if that doesn’t work, her fist splinters them.

Since returning to Konoha, Sasuke has noticed the whispers and stares that follow them when he and Sakura go anywhere together. Initially, he thought the behaviour was directed at him—judgement for his past deeds and the dark legacy that will hound him until he dies. Except, the general tone of the whispers is usually deferential. He knows from years of wandering that people are more likely to avert their eyes than risk his attention. Thus, it’s Sakura to whom they look—she holds the admiration of every inhabitant of the growing village.

What’s surprising about it, though, is how much he doesn’t mind. As a child, the idea of being second to anyone was unacceptable, especially compared to his teammates: Naruto, because he was the village screw-up, and Sakura because she was just support—an admirer to cheer on his successes and, in the early days of their team, to highlight just how far Naruto was beneath their collective skill level.

It’s all different now.

Sakura is the one who stayed in Konoha, working hard to earn the respect and awe of the village. These days she walks confidently in the sun while Sasuke is content to watch her from the shadows.

It’s ironic, actually. In three short years, a civilian-born girl with no bloodline talent to speak of achieved more widespread respect than the Uchiha clan did in three generations.

He wonders what his parents would have made of Sakura. He likes to think they would have approved.

Father would have been terse and silent, but even he wouldn’t be able to deny her incredible talent. Mother would warm to her instantly because her temperament was rather similar. And his brother…

Sasuke can’t help a rueful, bitter smile at this. Itachi would have probably figured out Sasuke’s feelings for her before Sasuke himself did.

He’s aware enough of his shortcomings these days that the admission comes easily. He understands that he’s cared for Sakura since their Academy days—lack of natural talent aside, she intrigued him, even if he didn’t show it. Humans are visual creatures, and her hair alone meant he couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist the way he could with other kids. On top of that, she was intelligent enough to beat him on every written test, though she never sought to compete with him.

This, too, is ironic. Perhaps if she’d approached him as a potential rival, he would have seen her value earlier on.

Instead, his childhood memories of Sakura are of a pretty and shallow (yet kind) girl trailing behind him. Even then, she had a remarkable tenacity and dedication, bringing him Valentine’s Day gifts every year and patiently enduring his constant rebuffs. Sasuke didn’t even realise until much later—until that last fight with Naruto—that with every passing year, another chunk of his heart fell into her waiting palm.

Knowing that should make his plans today easier, but it doesn’t.

He’s had nightmares since the end of the war—dreams which take up the space in his head where revenge was once so prominent. Most often, they are of that day long ago when he almost snuffed out her light. Sometimes, Sasuke still feels the phantom heat of the Chidori in his palm, can still see her back bared to him as he moves closer.

He knows now that if he’d landed that blow, he would not have survived the war.

As mad with grief and rage as he was, having Sakura’s blood on his hands would have shattered his already damaged psyche beyond repair. The loss of Itachi coupled with the truths about his brother’s life had thrown him off the deep end; responsibility for Sakura’s death would have kept him there.

He doubts she realises this, even though they’ve spent more time together since his return—partaking in quiet dinners or long walks when her schedule allows for it. There’s even the rare sparring match that leaves him bruised but proud. She doesn’t ask him why he’s around so often or allude in any way to how she feels for him.

If she still feels for him.

She as good as told him in her letters that she was tired of waiting. Likely, it’s too late for anything, regardless of his belated hopes. And yet, despite this, Sasuke has been vacillating about the matter since he came back to Konoha. Until today.

At least he hopes.

It’s become habit to pass by the clinic to pick Sakura up after work. She falls into step with him with more ease than she ever did when they were young. Sometimes, they meander through the town while she chats about her day. Sometimes, they find an out-of-the-way restaurant to get a bite to eat. Sometimes, when she’s exhausted, he simply walks her home.

Today, though, he leads them along the river toward the lake. They’ve walked this way before, but he’s never led her down the embankment. She doesn’t ask where they’re going, which he takes as encouragement.

The dock where he spent so much time alone as a child looks almost exactly as it did then. The wood is slightly warped, causing it to tilt downward toward the lake a little, but it’s still sturdy. There are burn marks on the edges from lessons long ago. He stares at them for a beat, allowing memories to take him out of the present for a few moments.

Beside him, Sakura is still as well, but it’s a comfortable quiet. Now that they’re older, she’s more intuitive about his reticence. As children, she would talk his ear off as if terminally afraid of a drawn-out silence, filling it by any means. Sometimes, he appreciated this because it saved him the effort of having to maintain a conversation (especially when they were around other people).

Most of the time, though, he just wanted her to leave him to brood in peace.

These days, whether it’s because of her own wartime experiences or her work with those who have suffered its effects, she knows exactly when to simply linger quietly. And, as usual, he appreciates her waiting for him to open the conversation. It takes a little more effort today to find a way to start.

“This where I learned to perform Katon,” he tells her finally, his voice even, despite the way his stomach spasms with nerves.

“Oh?” she inquires, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees her look up at him, surprise and curiosity flickering across her features. He seldom, if ever, talks about the past—even more rarely does he speak of the time before they were genin.

Sasuke nods, staring out across the calm waters. “My father taught me. It was the only thing he was able to show me before he…died.”

Even so many years later, the pain is still as raw as it was the day of the massacre. The blinding rage is gone now, however. When he notices small, strong fingers tentatively wrap around his right hand and give a brief, reassuring squeeze, his instinct is to return the gesture, instead of pulling away.

“The technique was created by the Uchiha clan,” he goes on, sticking to facts because this is what he knows for sure. Facts are unchangeable, not hinging on chance and sentiment. “My family honed it over the years and, even though others have learned to master it, they could never achieve the exact effect that we could.”

He perceives her nod at this, but senses confusion as to why he’s bringing this up right now. She won’t ask, though, intuitively accepting that he has some purpose. Not for the first time does he think she trusts him far too much than he deserves—far more than he even trusts himself.

But today there is a purpose, and if he could ignore the nagging doubts at the back of his mind, he might be able to get to it. This is supposed to be a certainty—the one sure thing in his entire life. Yet, he can’t fight the same mounting apprehension he experiences when crossing into a dimension he’s never visited before.

“Would you like me to teach you?” he asks, inwardly cringing at how tentative he sounds, despite his efforts to be casual.

Luckily, Sakura is too caught off-guard to notice. “You’ve never asked me that before.”

“I never recognised the opportunity,” he admits. Too blinded by rage and revenge, it never occurred to him as a kid that the teammates he considered dead weight might improve faster if he helped them.

Sakura knows this too and doesn’t argue the point. Instead, she says, “I’m not a fire type, though.”

“That shouldn’t stop the apprentice of the Fifth Hokage.”

Sakura scoffs. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Hn.”

“All right! You’ve got it!” Sakura declares, making a show of rolling up her sleeves and facing the lake. “Stand back and watch me! Shannaro!” She flexes her fingers, preparing to form the requisite hand seals, and then glances back, a ghost of doubt on her face. “Um…any pointers?”

Sasuke’s mouth twitches at this.

He gives her a demonstration and the same advice his father offered.

She masters the technique faster than he did. Not on the first try, like Itachi, but within hours. He puts that down to her excellent chakra control and the fact that, as a jōnin, learning to master new techniques quickly is a prerequisite. There’s a huge difference between her abilities and those of a seven-year-old with self-esteem issues.

Thanks to her instant healing, there’s no obvious signs of damage—her cheeks aren’t burned, and her lips haven’t chapped from the flame. But the tips of her hair are singed a little and her skin is rosy from the heat.

After expelling the last fireball, Sakura coughs, smoke wafting briefly from mouth and nostrils, but when it dissipates, her eyes are dancing.

“How’s that?” she challenges, hands on her hips and chin jutted out.

Sasuke smirks. “As expected.”

“Oh, come on! That was amazing and you know it! Mine might even be better than yours!”

“Tch.”

She laughs at that.

“I think I burnt my tongue. My taste buds aren’t going to work properly for a week!” Her face becomes inquisitive. “What’s the occasion, though? Or did you really just want to avoid another gourmet dinner at Ichiraku with Naruto?”

As Sasuke has come to expect from her, Sakura provides him with an out. He’s not entirely sure how long she’s been doing that, or even if it’s intentional, but he appreciates it all the same. Today, however, he will not make use of it.

“That’s an extra benefit,” he allows, earning an amused, somewhat conspiratorial grin. He pauses, momentarily at loss of how to say what he needs to say. Eyes trained on the surface of the lake, he steels himself and continues. “This technique…in my family, it’s a rite of passage.”

He lets that sink in.

“Oh, yeah. I think you mentioned that once,” she says thoughtfully. “Or Kakashi-sensei said it. It’s like a coming-of-age tradition, right?”

“Aa,” he affirms and, trying to lace his words with meaning, confides, “It’s only passed on by close family members.”

“Right. That’s why your father taught you. I think that’s a nice tradition.”

Sasuke winces inwardly because she clearly doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say. It’s not a failing on her part, but his own inability to articulate the point properly. The words are there, but for some reason, they die somewhere between throat and lips. Demons and malevolent gods he can take, but this five-foot-four woman with pink hair makes Sasuke nervous. And it’s not because she can crush his skull with her little finger, either.

“Until one can perform the technique properly, one cannot truly claim the name Uchiha,” he explains, hoping the inflexion of the words conveys his intended meaning.

But Sakura still doesn’t get it.

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on a child,” she says lightly. She’s probably imagining him struggling to learn the technique, terrified of failure. She wouldn’t be wrong, either.

The knots in Sasuke’s stomach get worse and, if she doesn’t realise soon, he’ll have to spell it out for her. He’s half-angry about that because she’s supposed to be smarter. She should intuit what he’s trying to say and save him from making an utter fool of himself.

“Not only a child,” he corrects, again elaborately casual. “You performed it perfectly.”

Please…just…listen to what I’m trying to say.

There’s a heavy pause, and then Sakura’s breath catches in her throat. The silence between them suddenly isn’t so companionable now, but fraught with a tension like the entire world is holding its breath. Sasuke doesn’t look directly at her as she parses his words, using that blinding intellect of hers to understand what he’s trying to ask. Still, he glimpses her face from the corner of his eye and this is how he watches her expression blossom with understanding.

Success.

He turns to her.

“I have no right to ask anything of you,” he says plainly. “Not after everything.”

“Sasuke—”

“Sakura, let me…” he trails off, jaw working and his own voice catching as the words get lost again, but damn it, he has to get this out! “I don’t know if I can be what you want, what you’ve hoped for. Or if I can give you everything that you deserve. And it’s possible I’ve waited too long.” He swallows. “But when I think of family—even at my lowest point, where I’d given up on the idea—you were the only one I could ever see myself with. The one that I…”

Again, words fail him, and Sasuke wants to swear in frustration. He needs her to know because maybe the faster he gets it out, the better the odds will be. Sakura deserves so much better—always has—and could have anyone else. She should have anyone else, but he’s still hoping that she won’t want anyone else.

“Say it.”

Sasuke is rather jarringly brought out of his rambling, insecure thoughts by a cracking whisper.

Sakura stares up at him, tears welling in her eyes. Why is it him who always makes her cry? He expected her to be flustered or awkward, but instead, she looks the same as she does when bracing for a physical blow.

This confuses him. “What?”

“I need you to say it,” she tells him, barely above a whisper. “Just once. Say it and mean it.” Her fists clench. “I’ll never ask to hear it again, if that’s what you want. But before I can say yes—to the future, to trying, to…to all of it—you have to say it.” She takes a shuddering breath. “If you can’t, then I…I…”

She trails off as if the idea is too hard for her to even enunciate, too painful to consider—for either of them.

Sasuke has never been good with words. What he feels for Sakura, he doesn’t want to—can’t, really—put into words. There is no collection of syllables or sounds that are accurate enough to describe the girl who gave him her heart when they were children. The woman who waited for him for years, who forgave him for trying to kill her, their best friend, and their entire village. He’s wandered the world, looking for redemption, and it’s only since returning here that he’s realised he had it the whole time.

He wants to tell her all of that, but he doesn’t think she’ll understand. Not now, not yet—not while they’re still getting used to being around one another. Maybe after a lifetime, if she’ll give him that, it will come easier—his words and her ability to trust in him.

But for now, she wants something so simple, something almost infantile, as if a set phrase is a guarantee, a safety net, or a reward of some kind. He knows this, but struggles to give it to her, because it’s so insufficient. And everything about him to date, when it relates to her, has been insufficient.

If he does this wrong, she’ll turn away—it’s why she’s giving him this ultimatum in the first place. In their time apart, she’s developed into a strong, independent individual with unapologetic self-respect and unmalleable resolve. She knows what his hopes are, the unspoken wish behind one of his ultimate goals. But Sakura won’t become the vehicle for his happiness unless she’s sure she’ll benefit from it as well. It’s only fair and Sasuke admires her even more for it, but right now, it’s making him want to turn tail and run.

“Sakura…” He really, really wishes he was better at this.

Just do it already, you ass.

And why isn’t it surprising that, in this moment where the rest of his life might change for better or worse, Sasuke can clearly hear the voice of his idiot best friend telling him what to do? It almost makes him want to check to make sure the halfwit isn’t lurking somewhere nearby.

Regardless of its source, the advice is right. No more good can come of waiting.

Sasuke bends down so that his forehead presses against Sakura’s, bringing them eye to eye. She tenses up and her pale cheeks flush with colour, her lips parting in surprise. If this position prevents Sakura from seeing the colour rising on his own face or noticing that his hand is shaking as it gently takes hers, all the better.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” he says in a low voice, “but I want to spend it with you.”

Her lower lip trembles at this. “Because…because you love me?” Sakura prompts, the question a whisper but with a mettle to it. It’s a firm reminder that she will not let him off easy in this moment.

Sasuke exhales through his nose in defeat, eyes closing in affectionate resignation. “Because I love you.”

When he opens his eyes, Sakura’s are (if possible) wider than he’s ever seen. The utter shock etched into every other feature is simultaneously amusing and worrisome. He wonders dimly if, against all odds, this is finally what breaks her.

Putting some distance between their faces, he gently taps two fingers beneath the rhombus-shaped seal on her forehead—partially to make sure she’s still cognizant, but also to drive the message home. Sakura has never completely understood the gesture before in the handful of instances he’s demonstrated it, but now understanding flickers into place—that this is not just today, and not only because she asked him, but that he’s wanted this for so much longer.

Glassy green eyes are now overflowing with tears, the droplets winding down the curves of her cheeks and quivering jaw. Mild panic sets in—why is she upset? Shouldn’t she be happy?

“Sakura, why are you cry—mmph!”

Fingers fist in his shirt and a pair of soft lips are planted very firmly against his own.

Sasuke stands frozen for several seconds. Dimly, he supposes he should’ve expected this, because isn’t this what’s meant to happen when two people acknowledge feelings for one another? Essentially, he asked Sakura to spend the rest of her life with him, so it shouldn’t come as a shock that there would be a physical confirmation of this. Only, he didn’t quite expect it to happen so fast. Well, fast, he thinks, is relative. They have been building up to this since childhood, but he’s still not sure—

“You’re supposed to kiss me back,” Sakura mumbles against his mouth. If he wasn’t blushing before, the embarrassment hits fully now.

Still, the permission takes at least some of his discomfiture away.

Slow and tentative, Sasuke returns the kiss. It’s clumsy and uncertain because he’s never done this before, but she makes a small, approving noise at the back of her throat and he guesses he’s doing something right. Sakura tastes like smoke from the Katon and something sweet he doesn’t have a name for. He suspects he could spend the rest of his life trying to figure it out without success, an idea doesn’t bother him at all.

She fits her mouth over his, softly pulling his bottom lip between hers, and Sasuke’s senses fade out. Something like relief passes over him, as if a weight has been pulled from his very soul. The last, tightly coiled vestiges of doubt and anxiety which have gathered in him for years are now gone, and the only thing in the world is her. That, in itself, is mildly terrifying, but in a good way.

Achingly slowly, Sakura pulls away from him, reaching up to brush his hair away from his left eye. Her fingers stay in place, keeping the strands from falling back while her thumb traces a gentle arc from eyebrow to temple. He leans into the touch and she grins at him.

“Well?” she prompts. “What do you think?”

“…Hm?” It should concern Sasuke that his brain takes a second or two to catch up.

“Better than Naruto, right?” she wants to know.

The post-kiss haze vanishes. Sasuke sputters out a wordless response because that’s not how these things are supposed to go. His people skills might be rusty, but he’s pretty sure it’s far from normal to remind the man who just confessed his feelings for you about his (very unwilling) first (and second) kiss with their mutual best friend.

Sakura is laughing, at him or at the situation, he doesn’t know. He should be annoyed about this—and if she ever tells anyone about it, he will be—but the tears in her eyes are from mirth, not pain or sadness and, for once, he doesn’t regret putting them there.

“Yes, by the way,” she tells him happily, leaning into his chest. “Yes to all of it.”

終わり

Thanks for reading my story, and I hope you enjoy it! Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome! If you want to support my writing, I accept ko-fi donations and have started posting original fiction on my patreon account, Kuriworlds I encourage you to check it out!

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