#The bare wench project

[dark-ethereal-visions]

Samantha Phillips turns 59 today on February 25, 2025. She was born in 1966.

You might not know her name but you know her work!

[sevicia]

I don't have a joke to make I'm just in awe at these titles

[hopefulvittori]

Birds of Prey (AU) - Chapter 2

Carlo/OC & Romeo (AU)

Reposting my novel from ao3. Enjoy!

A tragedy struck when the father of puppets suddenly died in an accident. While the whole city of Krat has been mourning the engineer, the son of Geppetto only felt the sweet smell of liberation. What is he going to do now that the source of his hatred is gone?

An AU series where the puppet frenzy didn't happen, Carlo and Romeo didn't perish from the petrification disease. This is the story of a hawk, a falcon and an eagle about finding their purpose while they're uncovering dark secrets behind the origins of Krat's prosperity.

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Chapter 2: A falcon's despair

The girl has been sitting at the edge of her bed for almost an hour. She fought back some tears from dropping as she tried to calm herself by petting her cat. Pumpkin purred peacefully within the girl's arms. Although its hindleg was still hurting from the previous dangerous encounter, its main concern was to console her owner. It licked her hand as the orange cat heard her breath quietly hitching. Vittoria gave the pet a weak but fond smile as her appreciation.

Sadly, the tender moment between the girl and her cat was interrupted when an abrupt knocking was heard on her door. Without waiting for any answer, Marcello entered the room. The young adult looked at her sister with a faint smile. He wordlessly pointed at her bed, gaping a "may I?". Vittoria nodded and her brother sat down next to her. An uncomfortable silence lingered in the air. None of them had the mental capacity to start a conversation. Not after what happened earlier. How his wife's bewildered dogs chased Pumpkin through the house, injuring the poor cat's leg and ruining an old family painting in the process. They mostly held Pumpkin responsible for the cause of damage. The young girl tried to explain the dogs' bad temperament, but she was immediately silenced by the scornful gazes of the adults. Seeing that, she escaped with her cat into her bedroom, tending to its injury.

Yet, the older brother was there, trying to understand his little sister's opposing behaviour. He sighed deeply as his hand ran through his short raven black hair.

"Aria told me what happened." He started with a rough yet quiet voice.

Vittoria said nothing. She avoided his cerulean gaze as he tried to make her talk.

"Tori, you know why am I doing this, right?" He continued, placing one hand on her shoulder. She jumped a bit at the sudden touch. "Just bear it a little longer. As soon as my project is complete, we can finally be a fam..."

"...Don't lie to me." She interrupted him quietly, then flinched back from her brother's touch. 

The man raised his eyebrows questioningly. "...Excuse me?"

As she put down Pumpkin from her lap, she took a keen breath. Feeling its owner's rising vexation, the cat quickly hid under the bed.

"Marc, what is a family to you? This?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're barely at home! And even when you're here, you spend more time with this... this wench."

Marcello's nostrils suddenly flared as he gazed at his younger sister.

"Watch your tongue, young lady." He hissed. 

"Do you think mother or father would be happy seeing this...?" Vittoria looked at him with breath hitching. "What would the..."

He interrupted her with a booming voice: "They're gone, sister! If you really want to ask that question, ask that to yourself as well!"  

Marcello looked down at her judgmentally. At that moment, he wasn't the brother of Vittoria. He was Marcello of the Durante family's next ambitious engineer. Not even his kin could question his decisions. Not the way he gazed at her. 

"What would they think of you?" He asked monotonously. 

"M-me?" She asked with hesitation. Though with a hitched breath, she standed up from her bed. With a straight-back manner, she stood her ground against the young adult. Then she looked into his brother's blue gaze and said: "I'm going to be a Stalker." 

He furrowed his eyebrows in a belittling manner. "You? A Stalker?"

Vittoria blinked at him in surprise. "I don't see why I can't become one."

The brother suddenly fell silent. His eyes gazed onwards in an unpredictable way. He licked his dry lips as he avoided his sister's gape. 

The girl tilted her head slightly to the left. "...Brother?"

Marcello closed his eyes, then shook his head vehemently. 

"You know, Arianna was right, sister. You're living in a waking dream." He sighed deeply through his nose. 

The teenage girl looked away from Marcello. Her lips quivered from the new pain she had felt in her heart. Her shoulders slumped in a defeated manner. She stepped backwards from her brother in both shame and disgust. 

She should have realized this by now: this... this wasn't the Marcello she knew and loved so much. 

"The dogs will stay, Vittoria. You must get rid of the cat. As soon as possible." He said with a finality as he abruptly left her room. He didn't even close the door behind him.

Vittoria looked after him achingly. And when he disappeared from her sight, she fell on her knees. Her heart broke in two from the sharp sting of the betrayal that his own brother committed. 

By the next evening, she already asked the daughter of the head of the Monad Charity's house to look after her cat. She didn't have anyone to turn for help. If she could be honest to herself, she valued Lady Sophia more than her actual family. She called her "Matron" out of respect for her as a motherly figure.

She put Pumpkin into a large bag so she could move it as comfortably as possible. It was still injured, after all. As Vittoria was readying herself (and the cat) to the journey to the Charity House, she appeared before her. Arianna, wife of Durante Marcello, stood at the entrance door with a fake surprise written all over her face. The girl prepared herself with a long sigh then started moving towards the door. 

"I'm leaving, Aria." The teen girl said monotonously.

"Oh, already?" Her sister-in-law asked in a faked flabbergasted tone.

Vittoria blinked in confusion, then nodded curtly. "Yes. You asked me to do this after all."

The brunette woman chuckled as she waved her hand in dismissal. As she got closer to her, she caressed the girl's long ashen brown hair.

"Silly girl, you could've just done it tomorrow."

She shook her head. "No. It will be easier for me if I do it today."

As soon as heard this, Arianna's hand movement stopped. The teen could've sworn that her hands were shaking for a moment. The woman sighed deeply as she kept embracing the teen. Vittoria looked onward with confusion, before she mumbled: "...Sorry."

"It's not like I can change your mind." The woman said quietly as she stepped back. She gave her a serene smile. "You are doing a big favour for me and your brother, Tori. I appreciate it."

The girl hummed in response as she picked up her bag. She took a look at her sister-in-law as she opened the entrance door. The woman crossed her arms and gave the girl a satisfied smile. She nodded as a goodbye before the teen closed the door behind her.

──────────

"I..."

As she remembered the events of the past two days, Vittoria couldn't stop herself from shaking. Noticing her distress, the cat (quite literally) got out of its bag to cuddle to her leg as a way of comfort. Despite this small solace, the girl looked at Matron Sophia with a sad smile.

"I... I can't take it anymore, Matron. She always gets anything she wants. If not, she just tells everyone that I'm a lost cause." She said, rubbing her hands despairingly over her face. "I'm so tired of being her puppet.

She leaned onward, her face was still hidden in her hands. Seeing her distress, Sophia was already at her side. She gently pulled her into a warm embrace while the girl was still sitting. Vittoria almost immediately felt relaxed in her arms. She tiredly sighed as her hands encircled around Matron's waist. Despite this loving gesture, the youth was still struggling to calm her nerves.

"You have to be strong, my child. Even if you feel you are in the deepest depth of darkness, you have to find your spark in this life." Lady Sophia said warmly as she stroked the girl's back. "You don't have to be ashamed of who you truly are. After all, we are all struggling to find ourselves amidst these chaotic times." Sophia then looked beyond the door and gave a knowing look to Carlo.

The boy saw and heard everything. Luckily, Matron didn't blow his cover before Vittoria. While he felt gratitude, his heart was as empty as a shade. His legs buckled under himself, then he found himself sitting on the ground. With knitted eyebrows, he looked downwards with a hollow look in his amber eyes.

"I'm so tired of being her puppet."

A sense of familiarity rose within him. He knew all too well how people tried to take advantage of his ties to get closer to his father. Despite this, no one ever thanked him. No one ever appreciated him for who he was. No one ever loved him as Carlo. And now that Geppetto was gone, those people looked at him with scornful eyes. Such hypocrisy disgusted him to no end.

"We are all struggling to find ourselves amidst these chaotic times."

These words echoed within the boy's mind. Over and over again. Carlo felt sick when he remembered the awful things he did to the girl. He couldn't live with that indignity at that moment. He abruptly standed up and ran away from the utter shame he felt. The words he heard that night kept looping back in his mind. He tried to sleep that night, but he couldn't. Not the same way as before. 

The next morning, he felt unwell due to the lack of sleep. During his daily sparring session with his classmates, some of the students noticed his lack of focus. Everyone at the House knew that despite his mischievous reputation, he was one of the strongest Stalker candidates. But on that day, he was an easy target for those who normally struggled against him. His movements were sluggish and weaker than before. Romeo, his only friend, also noticed this. At the end of the session, he tried to stop Carlo from challenging another student by grabbing him by the shoulder.

"You need to take a break, man. It's clear as day that you're not in peak form today." He said with a worried tone.

"Stop pestering me, I'm fine as a fiddle!" He snapped at Romeo, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. He stubbornly flinched away from his friend as he grabbed his sword. As he walked towards his next opponent, the blond boy shook his head in disbelief.

"He's going to regret this so so much..." He muttered to himself.

Romeo wasn't far from the truth. The one whom  Carlo challenged was Rocco, kindred of the infamous Black Rabbit Brotherhood. While he wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, his size compensated for his lack of brainpower. The twice as tall boy was eager to prove his strength against the mischievous boy. 

It was a tedious fight to say the least. Although Rocco's swings were pretty calculable, Carlo has been struggling. The way he moved to dodge was tiredly slow. It was a wonder that he didn't get hit by Rocco's two handed sword. Romeo knew that if he were in his best form, he would've ended this charade in minutes. Yet here he was, flailing his weapon in a doggy-paddling manner. Even Carlo himself noticed this too. He grew frustrated quite fast, which was his first and last mistake during the sparring match. When the boy saw an opening, with a last act of irritation, he spent all of his remaining energy to kick his opponent in the crotch.

No hesitation. 

When he saw Rocco's fist swinging towards him, he knew what was about to come. With a loud "twack", his face absorbed the impact of the powerful punch. He fell to the ground, drifting between consciousness and unconsciousnes. Although his vision was blurred, Carlo saw some students trying to hold back the agitated Rocco from doing more harm while Romeo tried to take him away. When his friend put an arm around the boy's shoulder to support him, he blacked out for a few minutes.

When he started to come around, the other youth had already dragged him away from the training ground. He groaned in discomfort as he tried to adjust his vision, looking for the form of his friend. The blond boy's face held urgency. Carlo knew that Romeo wanted to take him to a doctor. They were already inside the Charity House, walking through the familiar corridors to the sick-bay. As stubborn as he was, Carlo tried to struggle against Romeo's grasp, but the taller boy was stronger. Seeing the smaller youth's constant struggle, he suddenly dropped him to the ground. He yelped in surprise as he hit his back to the wooden floor.

"What was that for...?" The boy hissed, holding both of his swollen face and back in pain.

"I could've asked the same thing, Carlo." The blond boy said annoyed. "Could you elaborate what happened there?"

The boy averted his gaze in frustration. Romeo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, then sighed a watery breath. He dropped on one knee as he reached out for his friend with one hand.

"You know we're friends, right? You can trust me." He assured him with a faint but gentle smile.

Seeing this as a sign of trust, Carlo huffed quietly before accepting Romeo's hand. After he got pulled up, he dusted himself. When he felt the other boy's questioning gaze on himself, he closed his eyes in a way of resignation.

"Romeo... I think I messed up."

"What do you mean?"

The mischievous boy was hesitant to speak. Instead, he took out the black pamphlet from his sleeve and showed it to Romeo. The taller boy looked at it in a questioning manner, then his gaze shifted to Carlo. The amber brows eyes held a swirl of guilt and confusion.

"What made you change your mind?" He asked quietly.

"I heard her talking with Miss Sophia." Carlo replied in the same way, while avoiding eye contact with his best friend. "About Vittoria's... family problems."

"Oh? You didn't know?" Romeo blinked at him in surprise.

The brown haired youth tilted his head in confusion. "Wait, what?"

"Everyone knows why she's been visiting the Charity House. That's why no one bothered her, except well... you, man."

While Romeo has been scratching his head in discomfort, Carlo glanced uncomfortably at the pamphlet. Did he really go out his way just to bully one girl for months? Everyone else knew about her situation, except him. This news didn't make him feel any better.

"Well, this is kinda awkward..." He mumbled.

"Awkward is an understatement, my friend." The blond youth agreed.

The smaller boy looked at his friend and abruptly held out the pamphlet to Romeo. "...I think you should give it back."

"W-what? Absolutely not!" He shook his head vehemently.

"Please."

"No."

"Please, Romeo."

"Still no."

"Please or I'm going to die from shame!" Carlo whined.

"Then at least you'll die like a man!" Romeo said fiercely. His gaze held righteous anger. The sudden change of tone made his friend recoil. "If you could've shown some concern to others, you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place!"

The brown haired youth tried to give his friend a fierce look, but only winced in pain. The bruise was already flaring in red on the left side of his cheek. Despite this, the cause of the whole problem hurt him and his pride even more.

Remembering Lady Sophia's words, he sighed in surrender then mumbled: "...Fine."

Romeo took a deep breath and gave him a self-satisfied smile. He nodded as he held out his hand once again as an offer of support. Carlo shook his head in refusal. Rolling his eyes in disbelief about his partner's stubbornness, the tall boy gave up. They kept going between shorter and longer corridors until they reached the sick-bay. When they stopped, Romeo tapped his friend's shoulder. Carlo looked at him in a questioning manner.

"Okay, how about this? While you're taking a visit to the medic, I'll ask around where she lives." The tall boy said, tilting his head to one side. "Then you can give back her belongings."

The mischievous youth huffed in response.

"You have a plan, don't you?" He asked quietly.

"I always have." Romeo nodded confidently. "And I know certain people who can help me... besides with something else." He added mysteriously.

Carlo blinked in surprise, then a faint half-smile spread across his face. 

"You and your secrets, man." He said with amusement. The boy didn't pry any further with details. He wholly trusted this cool-headed yet passionate, theatrical friend of his.

As Romeo nodded and gaped a "see you later" to him, Carlo called after him: "Be careful."

The taller youth turned after him, grinning with opened arms.

"Hey, I'm always careful."

──────────

Here we go: family drama. I always pondered about something regarding The Boys. Romeo didn't have any parents to begin with. Carlo had his dad (his mother implied to have died very early on), but he neglected his son due to work. He was sent to the orphanage by Geppetto. Rather than taking care of the last vestige of his deceased wife. Carlo's dad was there, but not there at the same time. I can't imagine which is more painful: having no family at all or seeing your parents but they can't take care of you due to some other obligations? But hey, at least Carlo didn't have to deal with a toxic family background since he was sent to a fairly caring orphanage. This is why it hits him hard when he realizes that he bullied an already abused Vittoria. Romeo tho? Since he didn't have a family at all, he can empathize with other people's problems much more easily. I enjoyed portraying him as an emotional bridge and a social glue between Carlo and Vittoria. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, stay tuned for the next one!

[malscare]

oh my god speaking of which the bare wench project torrent worked its mine forever to ytp now

[lostcryptids]

i am sorry to disappoint if you didn't know but i was just simply saying the name of this movie that we watched because i couldn't form any word to describe how i felt about it

Bare wench project.

[cinemajunkie70]

The happiest of birthdays to Jim Wynorski!

[organicmatter]

can’t get over this blair witch project spinoff porno i got for $1

[catz4ever]

Brother Day x Reader

"Edge of Darkness"

The long awaited Chapter Three is here!

I'll finish the tags tomorrow I promise.

As always, please feel free to comment with your input or message me if you want to discuss this chapter!

@billyblackbirdrusso @0chemicalwaste0 @bang-kim-bap @purplerainiris @coopsgirl @omg-hellgirl @briefgalaxycat @bellevox @lafleurose @designfailure56 @curiouswildi

CHAPTER THREE

Several minutes after he left, you forced yourself to stand and find a dry towel to wrap around you. Using the wall for support, your limbs, still shaking from your encounter, lifted you to a standing position. Glancing up at the mirror you felt ashamed and violated; the sensory memory of his large hands caressing your body left you numb. Moments later, Esme re-entered the room, eager to help you dress into your clothing. Seeing your face twisted in distraught, she quickly walked over to you.

"My lady, what happened?" she asked, taking the wet towel from you, "here let me find you a new one so we can get you warm and dry."

"I, it's nothing, I'm still a little bit shaky from the jump" you replied, tears streaming down your face. Every inch of you felt dirty and ugly, and you couldn't help but shiver. She helped you dry off and get into your outfit for the landing on Trantor. She looked at you with an expression of disbelief, but decided not to press the matter. As you were tying the laces on your boots, you felt the whole ship shift as it touched down on the landing pad. You jumped slightly when the blast doors to the room slid open. In the doorway stood Obrecht with a pair of iron cuffs.

"Come along doctor, Empire does not like to be kept waiting," he said nodding for you to come over. You walked cautiously towards him, head bowed low. Without prompting, you willingly held out your wrists in front of you to be secured. He roughly latched the cuffs onto your wrists and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a similar blue vial to the one he used to sedate you back on Arcturus.

"I assume you know what will happen if you fight me again. I will not hesitate to put you out a second time, you little wench," he said, tightening the grip of the cuffs, nearly cutting off your circulation. His lip was still noticeably swollen from where you had elbowed him. After shrouding your head, he pushed you forward with his hand, firmly grasping your shoulder.

"Walk!" he ordered in a firm tone. You allowed him to guide you down to the landing ramp of the ship. The bay doors opened, leaving you blinded by clouds of smoke and steam as the ship's exhaust vents released their pressure. With the few feet in front of you barely visible, you made your way down the ramp.

[sgrayonderii]

nom de guerre

SSM21 Day 17: a gentle man

In which some titles are more accurate than others. Samurai-esque AU

It is common knowledge that for a noble title and a swath of land, her mother was sold to a warlord.  

Haruno Sakura had the great misfortune of being born as the daughter of a destitute samurai family. Their master had long been vanquished and their lands long sold to make ends meet. And yet still longed for days yonder. 

But her mother also had the great fortune of being born a beauty, so when the opportunity arose; a passing hegemon looking for a bride, Sakura’s parents took a chance. 

They say that the young warlord was so mesmerized by her mother that he immediately accepted the terms of the expensive bride price and took her as his wife. 

On their wedding day, mother was dressed in her finest robes while her father arrived late in a full suit of blood soaked armor. 

The ceremony itself was a soleum affair. Her parents pledged themselves before the gods and swear to their union.

And so Haruno Sakura becomes Lady Uchiha no Sakura, the wife of Lord Uchiha no Madara.

----

Sarada has faint memories of her father; more often than not her father is sent to the battlefield and only returns a few days to weeks at a time between campaigns. 

The Uchiha clan is one of the important noble families of the Konoha and known for its long history of bloodthirsty warriors. Her father is no exception. 

Whenever he returns home, Sarada hides behind her mother’s skirt. Her father is an imposing demon-like man, larger than life, and taller than a mountain. Someone more suited for stories and legends than real life. 

They call him a man more fearsome than Susanoo-no-Mikoto itself. So violent, so blood crazed, it is a wonder that Sakura lived as long as she did when a male heir had yet to be born. 

Thankfully, it seems that as a daughter, her father pays very little attention to her. Whenever he returns from the borderlands between here and Oto, he barely spares her a glance. 

However, whenever his eyes meet her mother’s through his helmet, he beckons her over. 

“Sakura,” he commands, voice deep and low, “bring some tea to my quarters.”

Sarada always remembers her mother looking angry but determined then. Sakura dutifully follows her husband into the inner chambers. She doesn’t emerge until late morning.

Sarada is usually having lessons during this time, but one day she sneaks out of her etiquette classes to find her mother. 

She searches almost the entire unusually empty manor before finding Sakura in the kitchen brewing tea. Her mother’s clothes are covered in blood and her hands are covering her tears. 

Sarada has never seen her mother sob so terribly before.

From then on, she decides that her father must be an especially cruel man. 

---- 

Whenever her father returns from war, her Papa also comes home. 

Today she finds him on the engawa overlooking the gardens. He is sipping some tea while looking over some scrolls. He appears injured, bandages wrapped around his torso, but otherwise in good health. 

If her father is the devil incarnate, then Sarada’s papa is a handsome devil. 

No wonder her Mama is so taken with him. Sometimes when she is supposed to be asleep, she can hear her Mama fuss over Papa. They hold hands when no one is looking and share secrets no other soul knows. 

Despite the cold manor they reside in, Mama is an affectionate woman at her core and her Papa is receptive to all she has to give. 

And Papa must be someone important too; after all he is allowed to leave and enter from the inner quarters that a normal Uchiha foot soldier could not. 

Sarada pads over to him, he looks up and beckons her closer. 

“Have you been a good girl, little peanut?” 

Sarada scoffs. “ I’m not a nut.” But she holds out her hands anyways. 

Her Papa chuckles and pulls out some dried persimmons from his sleeves. “Don’t tell Sakura.” 

Sarada smiles at their little secret before taking a bite. “What are you reading?” Her Papa allows her to climb onto his lap and drapes the scroll over her. Sarada squints, only understanding a fraction of the words on the paper. She points and reads aloud the characters she recognizes.

“Good girl.” He slips her another dried persimmon.

That is when her mother finds them. 

“Sasuke-kun!” her mama enters the scene in a huff, “I told you to stop that, you’ll ruin her dinner.”

Sarada quickly shoves both persimmons into her mouth. Her papa has the decency to look sheepish. 

“You can’t keep spoiling her like that! She is going to get an upset stomach!” Sakura continues.

“Do you want me to spoil you too?” 

Her mama sputters, all red and flustered. Her hands move to cover her flaming cheeks.

Sarada meanwhile uses the distraction to hold out her hands for another treat. Her gentle papa instead leans down and kisses her forehead.

---

For the past year, her father and his retainers had been defending the borders between Oto and Konoha. After the dissenters were finally defeated, a grand celebration is held in her father’s honor. 

She remembers that her father was hailed as the second coming of Madara, the legendary clan head from the distant past. The comparison is uncanny, both bloodthirsty and merciless but dauntless in the face of adversary. Soon it becomes her father’s mantle; Lord Uchiha no Madara, the slayer of the Orochi. 

Sarada hadn't been invited to the banquet due to her age but that night she is much too excited to sleep. She has never seen so many people gathered in one place in her life. And even though her father’s presence makes her nervous, she loves the tales about his exploits. 

The banquet hall is rowdy and the envoy’s drunken singing could be heard from down the halls. The fuzzy silhouettes of her father’s soldiers line the banquet hall, she has a hard time making out who is who. Everything is quite blurry even with the multiple lanterns.

The only one Sarada could identify for sure is her mother. Sakura’s features are distinct, like a lone flower against the night sky. Her mother sits obediently at the head of the table beside the man that is her father. 

He has forsaken armor this time, but there is still a sword at his side. From the distance, her father doesn’t look particularly like he was enjoying the festivities. 

He appears bored. Perhaps his blood is not used to peace, after all a beast belonged in the wild and a warrior to the battlefield. 

Sakura every once and a while would refill her father’s sake cup or serve him more of the feast in front of him. Occasionally, when her mother would lean over and her father would whisper something into her ear. 

Her mama would stiffen and her face would become strained. At first Sarada can’t make out the expression, until a small smile blooms on her mama’s visage. 

Sarada goes to bed soon after, not quite understanding their interactions. 

---

Her earliest memory of Papa is halfway past her fourth year. 

Father had been back for a few days now, not that she had really seen him. And to be perfectly honest, her father is a scary man and she would rather not run into him. 

But Sarada is also curious so she puts on a brave face and finds herself outside her mother’s quarters.

Peering through the crack in the paper screen door, Sarada spots her mother’s figure and a man she doesn’t recognize. 

Her mama is leaning on the man’s shoulder while he serves her sake with his free hand. Back then, Sarada found it a strange role reversal that a man dressed in such luxurious robes was pouring her mama a drink. 

Sarada has seen some men in her father’s army throw a tantrum when a pretty lady wouldn’t attend to them. Even Sakura during official functions knows to serve her father first before anyone else can even eat.

But this man sat with her mama so nonchalantly and closely, breaking tradition as if it was nothing!

Her shock was audible to where her mother and the man turned to see her crouched by the entryway. 

Sarada felt as if she interrupted a private moment, but man’s expression morphed into something soft and Sakura giddily rushes over to pick her up. 

“Sarada! Come, come! Papa is here, see?” Sakura hands her over the stranger’s awaiting arms. She doesn’t want to leave her mama’s embrace but the man’s is just as warm. 

“Hello little peanut, have you been good while I was away?” 

How is she supposed to answer him? She opts for a nod and reaches for the familiarity of her mother.

“Sasuke-kun…” 

“It’s alright, she probably isn’t used to my face.” He leans over regardless and kisses her mother’s forehead. Then he looks Sarada straight in the eye. “I am you papa.” 

Sarada thinks she likes this ‘Sasuke-kun,’ this Papa. Someone so kind to her mother can’t be a bad man. 

----

As she gets older, Sarada becomes privy to the rumors about the current acting head of the Yamanaka clan. How her son looks nothing like her deceased husband but has the same eyes as the court painter. 

And Sarada has her own theories about her mama and the man that is her papa.

She just hopes that her father never finds out. 

---

Even though her mother is essentially the lady of the house, Sarada still hears whispers of her lineage. Even more so now that Sarada begins wearing glasses. 

Before her father leaves for his next campaign, he gives Sakura his inkan. 

As the wife of the lord, Sakura officially acts as his surrogate in any official business even if some of the family retainers aren’t happy about it. 

Fortunately, many would rather swallow their pride that incur her father’s wrath. 

All except one. 

Uchiha no Shin, a rather minor branch clan member, always disapproved of her father and even more so now that he left his wife in charge of the estate in his absence. 

It all comes to a head when Sakura denies him funding for a rather ill thought out building project. 

“You dirty wench! ” 

Sarada can hear the screams from her room. She rushes to the scene. Sakura is still standing her ground when she arrives. 

“I don’t see any benefit in this strategy and I doubt my dear lord husband would either.” 

“What do you know?! You are nothing but a plaything you stupid bitch, I’ll teach you some manners!” Shin chooses that moment to raise his hand at her mother. 

Sarada feels the anger seep into her bones but her mother chooses that moment to retaliate and punch Shin square in the face herself. 

Shin falls back unceremoniously. Sarada is slack jawed. 

“How dare you!” he seethes. Shin tries to get up only for another person to rush to her mother’s aid. 

Shin’s screams are agonizing and it takes Sarada a moment to realize that not only had her father returned, but he had drawn his sword and stabbed it clean through Shin’s arm, effectively pinning it to the tatami. 

“Sasuke-kun!” 

Sarada blinks once. Twice. 

“Are you alright Sakura?” Her father, her papa asks, completely ignoring their screaming relative. 

Sakura nods and he turns to her as well “Are you okay Sarada?” his voice deep and low but the same kind cadence up close as her beloved papa.

Suddenly her father’s mysterious and distant features that were always hazy to her meld with the papa in front of her now.  

Sarada adjusts her glasses. She feels really stupid in that moment. 

---

This time, Sarada is invited to the banquet. 

It’s an annual harvest festival and her father is the guest of honor. The local leaders once again announce him as ‘Lord Uchiha no Madara’ much to his chagrin. 

“I really hate when they call me that.” Sasuke tells them later when the food is being served and drinks are flowing freely. Sakura is on one side while Sarada is on the other. Habitually he is discreetly putting any sweets that make it his way and the tenderest pieces of meat onto their plates. 

“Anata,” with time Sarada notices that her mother only ever uses this term in public when her father needed more placating than usual, “they are just just in awe of how great you are!”

“I wish they had chosen something different, Madara was such a pain in the ass.” 

“Sasuke-kun!” Her mother tries to be scandalized but can’t help but devolve into a fit of giggles. 

As her father continues to look on adoringly at his wife, Sarada can’t help but agree with him. 

A name like that is unfitting of her gentle papa. 

A/N: Happy Sasusaku month 2021! My brain is mush right now so excuse the multitude of grammatical errors. Thank you for reading!

And just to note in historical Japan, men tended to change their names depending on significant life events. For example, Minamoto no Yoshitsune's childhood name was Ushiwakamaru.

@ssskmonth

[chocolatte-and-despair]

👀 Yo love your Hetalia stuff! Might I ask for yandere nyo Italy sisters and nyo Baltic trio?

Aph Nyotalia North Italy -  Feliciana Daisy Vargas

Feliciana is an obsessive yandere. She is a confident and flirty woman, that’s why she was surprised when you didn’t want to be with her. It made her feel a way that she never had felt before. Honestly, it was almost love at first sight. After that, she wanted to know everything about you, to try to be everything that you want her to be. If you would keep rejecting Feliciana, she would start to lose her confidence and that would start to be replaced with anger. She has been giving you absolutely anything and everything she had, and you are still rejecting her? Does she need to get angry!? 

Aph Nyotalia South Italy - Chiara  Vargas

Chiara is a possessive yandere. Similar to her male counterpart, she finds you to be very important to her, seeing as you were one of the few people that saw her for who she was and didn’t just find her body attractive. She has been spending a lot of time with you, telling you that she would get angry if you ever tried to leave her. And she isn’t lying. The amount of people she had to threaten away from you is insane. If you would reject Chiara, she would start using underhanded methods to try and get you interested in her. If her personality wasn’t enough for you, then perhaps her body was going to get the trick done? Just, please... Don’t leave her. 

Aph Nyotalia Estonia - Edith  von Bock

Edith is a stalker yandere. Like her male counterpart, she is very good with technology, that’s why it’s pretty easy for her to use her skills to install cameras around your place, to tap your phone, install a tracker on you, and of course, to hack your computer to be able to watch you from the webcam. Honestly, it’s really creepy how much she can do with just a lot of free time and her personal equipment. If you would reject Edith, she would act like everything is okay, but instead, she would use her stalking to spread rumors about you. She knows that is not a really good thing to do, but she loves you and wants to have you for herself. And she is going to do what she needs to achieve that. 

Aph Nyotalia Latvia -   Renate Galante

Renate is a harmless yandere. Because she is very shy and barely talks to people, she has gotten very attached to you because you make her feel very safe. She sometimes can act very possessive because of her fear of you leaving her all alone, but she will never actually hurt you or anyone else. She is mostly just very awkward and unsure of how to portray her feelings in a healthy way. If you would reject Renate, she would run out crying her eyes but that very day, she would come back to you, asking to not throw her away and that she will try to forget about her feelings, but please, don’t leave her. 

Aph Nyotalia Lithuania - Kotryna Laurinaitytė 

Kotryna is a protective yandere. Unlike her male counterpart, she stands up for what she believes in and wants to have you for herself. She might not stand up for everything, but she knows that she can fight for you and for her love for you. She will tell anyone who is harassing you to get lost and would threaten any friend you have to not try anything with you. She is quite violent too when she needs to be.  If you would reject Kotryna, she would outright just curse you out, saying that you were an ungrateful wench, and you better appreciate all that she has been doing for you, or she will get angrier and hurt you. 

2p Aph Nyotalia North Italy - Lucrecia Raffaella Vargas

Lucrecia is a dependant yandere. Living the life that people expected her to do, she got attached to you, someone that she shouldn’t be with, just because she wanted to defy the life that her family told her that she needed to have. Sadly, because of her nature, she is also pretty violent when angered, and will use you like a toy whenever she is frustrated.  If you would reject Lucrecia, she would ruin your life, until you wouldn’t be able to live without her. It seems that you are a little bit too independent. Maybe if you understood how she felt, you would be more grateful and would accept her love. 

2p Aph Nyotalia South Italy - Mattea  Vargas

Mattea is a projective yandere. The reason that she got interested in you was probably that you reminded her of someone important. Because of that, chances are that she will try to train to become like that person or fall for what type of person you are. In both situations, you will have to deal with an obnoxious rich girl. If you would reject Mattea, she would get very angry. Just because she has been playing nice, it doesn’t mean that she is nice. Does she need to remind you that she is the oldest daughter of a famous mafia family? She can ruin your life if you keep giving her the answers she doesn’t like. 

2p Aph Nyotalia Estonia - Evelin  von Bock

Evelin is a possessive yandere. From the moment that she laid her eyes on you, she knew that you were going to be the perfect addition to her possession. She loved everything that you did, but she especially loved when you tried to run away from her, acting like you actually had a choice in the matter. It was always fun to play cat and mouse with you. If you would reject Evelin, she would stop playing nice. It seemed that you still haven’t understood the situation you are in. Guess a punishment would push the thought across, yes?

[lostcryptids]

Every time i see a gifset of the blair witch project i remember the equivalent to the scene from the bare wench project

[renee-writer]

Jamie's POV Chapter 5 Rent

AO3

To say I am relieved would be an understatement. To being leaving Castle Leoch and heading out to collect rents doesn’t bother me. I have, after all, just swore myself to Culomn's use. No, it is the thought of leaving Claire behind. To hear she is coming as a healer, well, I must force myself not to react.

But when I find out why Dougal wished me to come.. We are in the tavern after the rents are collected. My eyes are on Claire, sitting apart from us when Dougal starts to talk. He is thundering on about the English and the restoration of the true King. Then he mentions me. What they did to my back. I tense up, glad that he is speaking in Gaelic so Claire can’t understand. It is sudden. He comes up and tears my shirt open exposing my back.

I am mortified. The gasps from those gathered are barely heard over the pounding of my heart. To be humiliated thus in front of Claire! He goes on, telling them about witnessing the lashing, seeing me fall unconscious, worrying that I was dead, seeing my dad fall. Then the hats come out as he collects money for the true King.

After, he throws Claire my torn shirt telling her to see it up. I am proud of her response. She throws it back telling him to sew it himself. I grab it and storm off telling him that I will see it myself.

So it continues, night after night, village after village. I do start taking it off, saving myself the chore of daily mending. It gets to much. I confront him one night.

We argue. Getting right up in each other’s faces. Not that it matters. I know I will continue to allow it. He is my uncle and I am on his land. Out of frustration after, I punch a tree. I don’t know that my Sassanach is watching.

“He will continue to do it.” She softly says. I nod.

“It suits him.” She takes a seat on the log by me. I rub my aching hand.

“Why do you allow it?”

I shrug. Her closeness is bringing feelings up. It makes it hard to concentrate. “He is my uncle, eh. It is easier just to give in. He will do it as long as it serves him.”

She sighs. I just enjoy being close to her. Eventually she heads back after securing a promise that I won’t punch anymore trees. “The trees are safe Sassanach.”

Finding the men hung on crosses the next day sours everyone’s mood. That night it is them Dougal uses to raise funds for the Jacobites. There is a room where Claire can sleep. A grand thing until I hear some of the lads talking about ' visiting the Sassanach wench'. That will not be happening on my watch. I slip up and lay outside her door. They will have to get through me to get to her.

I fall into an uneasy sleep . They next thing I know I am being stepped on. “Omf!”

“What are you doing?” Claire, standing with a candlestick as a weapon asks.

“I was sleeping.”

“Why are you sleeping outside my door?”

I clear my throat, a bit embarrassed to talk about such, with a lady. “Well, the lads are awfully drunk and they were talking about coming up to visit you. I didn’t think you would what such attention.”

She nods. “After today, they aren’t thinking to kindly to the English.”

“Aye.”

“Thank you Jamie but, you can’t sleep out in the hall. It is freezing. Come in and sleep on my floor. It is warmer.”

I look at her, in shock. Has she lost her mind! “I can’t do that! It would ruin your reputation.”

“Why? I have slept by you and a dozen other men.”

“That is totally different.” Can’t she see how it is different?

“Well, will you take the blanket off my bed? If hat isn’t to scandalous?”

I blush. “No. That would be must welcome.” She smiles and turns to get it. When she hands it to me, our fingers touch and something primal passes between us. I see in her eyes she feels it too. The second of eye contact I will remember forever. Her eyes drop.

“Well, good night Jamie.”

“Good night Mistress.”

[malscare]

we're watching bare wench project soon ama

[marybethsjournal]

Always

Summary: Molly has hit a wall with Dutch and doesn’t know what to do; she feels completely lost. Not to mention that she has started to have complicated feeling towards another gang member.

Pairing(s): Dutch Van Der Linde x Molly O’Shea, Molly O’Shea x Sadie Adler (strongly implied)

Word Count: 1903

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265912

It was barely noon and the girls were day drinking yet again. This didn’t impress Molly much, but she had come to realize that nobody, not even Dutch cared about what she thought. Molly pushed the thought away. If she thought about how Dutch had been shutting her out and treating her badly in general, she would be driven to drink just like these harlots. And then she would be no better than them, which seemed to be the most humiliating thought possible at the time.

Molly was not surprised that Karen was leading the drinking charge of the day. That’s all the wench knew how to do, that and seduce men. She tried not to blame Karen too hard for that, though, because everyone knew Dutch was strongly encouraging her to put herself out there and if Molly verbalized her bias against working women, she’d have to implicate Dutch in the whole thing and she didn’t feel like doing that. Anything to exonerate her man from wrongdoing. What did surprise Molly was that that girl, Sadie, had joined the women for once. And not in the way Abigail had, coming over to get one drink and then gone back to her business (Molly didn’t blame her, she deserved a drink, especially since Jack had asked about 50 questions today already and the Marston man had tried to pants Bill and got a fist in his face in return). Sadie was downing the drinks faster than anyone else; she seemed to have no shame. Molly supposed that maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. Sadie had gone through a significant transformation over the past few months. When Sadie had been brought in by Dutch, Micah, and Arthur, she seemed weak and quiet. She had worn dresses and otherwise modest garments, although nothing too fancy. Now, she had the audacity to yell at the men and one day, when out on the town with Arthur, she had bought a shirt and pants and she hadn’t taken them off since. Quite offensive, in Molly’s opinion, but Sadie objectively pulled it off quite well. Molly had noticed herself staring at Sadie quite often, observing the woman. She couldn’t pinpoint quite why, but she assumed it was normal. Sadie was pushing boundaries and was overall quite an interesting woman, more interesting than herself. Not to mention, Sadie was very beautiful. Anyone could see that, it wasn’t an odd thing for her to think.

Molly found herself in the same situation yet again. She was staring at Sadie, who was downing another drink and laughing at some joke Tilly (or maybe it was Karen??? Molly wasn’t doing a very good job focusing on anything other than Sadie at the moment) made. Molly smiled, seeing Sadie throw her head back in laughter. Her smile was so huge and genuine. It was only recently that she had started smiling again. Sadie had taken it rough, just like any woman would, when her husband died. Molly knew the pain hadn’t gone away, but Sadie seemed to finally be letting herself enjoy life with little guilt. She thought about Sadie’s smile a little longer than she probably should have and her mind ended up drifting to a few nights ago when she and Sadie had danced. The whole camp was ambient with laughter and music, coming both from the gramophone and Javier’s guitar. Everyone seemed to have found a partner and was dancing: Mary Beth with Arthur, Jack with Uncle (their form of dancing was far different than everyone else’s slow dancing, the pair were waving their arms wildly and running in circles together), Karen with Sean, Tilly with Lenny. Hell, even Abigail and that fool John had put aside their differences for the night and were dancing up on each other, a bit too provocatively for Molly’s liking. Molly had actually been really excited about the spontaneous party that night. She felt the distance growing between her and Dutch the past few weeks and she was convinced that that night could make it all better. She had put on her finest dress, fixed her hair, and perfected before asking him. But to her surprise, he told her that he was too tired and maybe they could try another time. Her surprise had turned to horror when she later saw Dutch dancing with Susan. The worst part was, Dutch didn’t even seem to care when Molly noticed. It was like he didn’t even care about her feelings.

Molly had run into the nearby forest to cry. She knew her makeup would smudge and usually she would refrain from crying to the best of her ability, but she didn’t care anymore. It only took a few minutes before Sadie had snuck up behind her and asked her what was wrong. She had been sitting on a rock nearby, not in a party mood, when she had heard Molly crying, she explained. How embarrassing.

“So, are you going to tell me what happened so I can fight a bitch?” 

Molly, despite her sadness, laughed. “It’s not really a bitch. It’s Dutch. Wouldn’t dance with me but he sure is dancing with Susan right now.”

“That old fart? Ah you can do better than him.” Sadie seemed to get an idea and clapped her hands together. “In fact, let’s show him what he’s missing. I’ll dance with ya.”

Molly was taken aback by Sadie’s proposal. 

“I’m not too sure that’ll make him jealous. Maybe if I danced with Charles or something…”

“Oh come on! Sorry I’m not Charles.” Sadie grabbed Molly’s hand and drug her back into camp

Molly was confused as to why Sadie seemed so insistent to dance with her, but she was certainly pleased by the attention. She rarely got attention from this gang.

The dance went wonderfully; Molly almost felt something resembling butterflies in her stomach, which she dismissed as simple indigestion. It was perfect until Molly apparently got too close to Sadie and she asked, “Miss O’Shea, do you expect me to kiss you or what?”

Molly was horrified. She gave some phony excuse and ran away from the situation as fast as she could, ignoring Sadie calling after her. Things had been pretty awkward between them since then.

Molly was startled out her daydreaming when Karen yelled at her, “Hey Molly, what are you looking at? You wanna drink or something?” Oh great, Molly thought after realizing she had been staring this entire time.

Molly walked over to where Karen was and for just a brief moment, allowed herself to look at Sadie again. Unfortunately, Sadie seemed to have the same idea. Their eyes locked and Sadie subsequently excused herself to go talk to Abigail. 

“What the Hell is her problem? Anyway, wanna drink? I’ll share mine. It’s the good kind of whiskey.” Karen offered some strong whiskey to Molly. There’s nothing Molly wanted less than to drink after Karen.

“I try not to drink outside of social settings.” Molly informed Karen, politely declining.

“Then WHY were you looking at me earlier?”

“I wasn’t.” Molly responded curtly.

“Then you were looking at Sadie. Cause I know you weren’t looking at these here two fools.” Karen made rude gestures at Mary Beth and Tilly. 

“I wasn’t looking at anything, Karen. Just thinking.” Molly couldn’t find it within herself to look anywhere besides her feet.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you. You two, get out of here. I need to talk to Miss O’Shea alone.” Molly tried desperately to get the other two girls to stay but Karen insisted they leave. Apparently, Karen had much more pull among the other women than Molly did. That wasn’t one bit surprising, but it still seemed wrong.

“Wow, you really don’t wanna talk to me. My feelings are so hurt.” Karen took another swig of her drink before continuing. “Listen Molly, you know just as well as everyone else that I think you’re lazy and entitled. Just all around a nasty person.”

Molly nodded. Karen generally was straightforward and rude when she wanted to me, but it still seemed the drink must be doing a number on her for her to be able to say what she just had said.

“But for some reason my the dumb bitch in me has started to care. I didn’t think I had an angel on my shoulder, but here she is, annoying as ever, telling me, ‘Karen, you have to warn Molly. You don’t wanna see her get hurt.’ And then I tell them back that I don’t care if you get hurt but I still feel like I do care afterwards.”

It didn’t take much of an intellectual to make the observation that Karen had had too much to drink. Molly honestly couldn’t understand what she was saying: it sounded like a whole bunch of incoherent rambling in which she said a whole bunch, yet nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t have a heart of gold like myself. But at least you do have a heart. Listen, I just wanted to let you know Dutch don't care about you.”

‘“Leave me alone, Karen. You’re drunk and I won’t hear anymore.”

“See, you know it’s true! He sees you as a toy more than anything. You’re gonna end up hurt and he’s not going to care one bit.”

“If you think he’s so bad, why are you still running with him?”

“A lot of us don’t have a choice, miss society lady. Besides, I know better to get involved with him.”

“Sure, Karen. Thanks, I guess.”

Molly had walked away and pretended like she hadn’t cared but even days later, the short conversation haunted her at every turn. Even late at night, lying in bed next to Dutch, she replayed the whole ordeal over and over again in her mind. She hated to admit it, but Karen was right. The man lying next to her didn’t feel much for her anymore, if he ever had in the first place. It was just cold lying next to him. Like sleeping with a complete stranger.

She had spent several consecutive nights not being able to sleep out of worry. Late into the night, she would search Dutch’s face for any sort of sign that maybe he cared about something, maybe not even her. She always came up with nothing.

It had become all too much for Molly. She found herself crying yet again. She had never known herself to be this emotional. Part of her wanted Dutch to wake up and see her in pain, but she knew in her heart that he wouldn’t care. He would just be irritated that someone interrupted his beauty sleep.

One night when Molly couldn’t control her crying any longer, she left their tent so as not to disturb Dutch. She walked towards the rock that she usually sat on while she read a book during the day. On her way, she noticed that Sadie was sitting on another rock on the other side of camp. What was she doing out this late. She supposed she would have to find out. Now was her chance to finally talk to Sadie and apologize for whatever had happened between them.

“Can I sit here with you?” Molly asked Sadie when she approached her.

“Always.” Sadie smiled at her.

“That would be nice.”

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets I

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (Slow Burn)

A/n: This is my first stranger things fic, I’ve done other fandoms, and i’ve been itching to get this idea out, let me know if you liked the first part, and if you want to be tagged! (Pls be nice, i’m shy lol) (Also, I had this on a side blog, that I decided to bring to my main blog)

•••

The 1980’s were weird, that was your final opinion. Mainly because it was so much like home, they had phones, they dressed almost like you were used to, they had music you’d grown up on, like The Clash and Elton John, but a lot of the songs that were decades older than you, were new to them.

And while you knew every lyric to ‘The Safety Dance’ and ‘Come on Eileen’ everyone around you was still trying to learn them, and would jumble them from time to time. But at the young age of two, you were dancing along to The Clash while your dad laughed and danced with you.

Knowing that some songs you loved wouldn’t come out for up to twenty years later made you upset, not being able to listen to Nirvana. Suddenly you wanted to be in the car, listening to your dad try to sing along to Ed Sheeran or Taylor Swift. It was always amusing seeing his reaction to the newest songs on the radio while he drove you to school.

There was another thing about this time period that you found weird. They actually had lockers. All of the lockers from your school had been taken out in the late 90’s when a kid hid a gun and drugs in his, so no one had lockers except for in the locker room. So having to remember two different combos was a pain in your ass.

“L/n!”

A heavy sigh escaped your nose as your lips went thin in fake annoyance even though he hadn’t fully approached you.

“What do you want, Harrington?” You questioned, turning from the open grey locker to see him just a few feet away.

He gave you a look of fake offense as he leaned against the locker next to yours a hand over his on his chest, sadly were the latch of your own was, so you couldn’t use the door as a shield,

“Hey, now, who said I wanted anything? I just wanna talk to my friend.”

You were kind of friends. He was nice, at least to you. Though you’d seen him be a douchebag to other students. The cliche you’d seen in a movie of highschool. The popular guy who only cared about popularity and the people he was around. And you didn’t know why he thought you were a good person to be around, because when you were six you accidently set your curtains on fire while the babysitter fell asleep. And you were pretty sure you gave off ‘crazy bitch’ vibes.

You turned back to the locker and shook your head, grabbing your English textbook and looking back to him, a hand holding onto the door while you leaned into it. “Okay, why do you want to talk to me?” You questioned with a fake smile.

“Alright, grumpy. Tommy H, Carol, and I wanna hang out at yours tonight. My parents don’t leave for three more days, and  Carol’s mom hates Tommy, and you know how Tommy’s dad is.” He explained, looking down at you.

You hummed in amusement. “Not happening.” You responded, grabbing the hood of his hoodie and placing it in his locker, closing the door in on it. “Have fun.”

“Y/n!” He exclaimed in a sudden panic at being stuck in your locker, not being able to pull himself loose. “This isn’t funny, I will tell Mrs. Click!” He threatened as you stepped back, a genuine grin on your face as you looked up at him.

“A tattle tale? Didn’t think you’d stoop that low, and also, Mrs. Click? You think I’m scared of my History teacher? She’s afraid of saying ‘Wench’ out loud while we reading historical texts. She’s not intimating.”

Steve nodded a bit in thought. “Yeah… Okay, maybe I didn’t think that through, I’ll go to principal-”

“If I get suspended, I get suspended.” You shrugged. “Find a way to get me something to listen to music on, and something that has music on it, and then I’ll let you go.”

“Are you… Are you bribing me? Y/n L/n is bribing me? The new girl is bribing me.” He said in awe, still grasping onto his hoodie, looking at you with his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised.

When you only tilted your head he groaned, pulling on the cotton material. “Fine, Walkman or Record Player?”

“Hmm… Walkman.” You replied.

“Queen or Blondie?” He questioned, a smile coming across your face as you reached up to the lock.

“Both.”

Steve rolled his eyes as you unlocked your locker, setting him free. “That wasn’t fair, you look innocent.” He grumbled.

You mimicked his eye roll, closing the locker and walking away through the hall. ‘Fair’ being repeated in your head. Nothing was fair anymore to you. You’d been normal, just an annoying kid who was obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy, and history. That was what you had to your name. Your friends had once watched the bad uneducational tv show with you just to try and understand your obsession, you dad even had given it a chance, only saying that most of the characters were annoying.

But you only had history now. And some of the things you were supposed to learn in AP European history haven’t even happened yet. And it was freaking you out.

What was freaking you out more? Knowing you had a ‘classmate’ in your History class, who sat next to you, and was your relative. Your dad’s brother.

Sitting next to him was strange. Because he was your uncle. He’d been the one who bought you your first bike, and watched you fall off and break your wrist after your dad had let go of the bike.

To say that being his partner on a history project was weird, was an understatement. Because the entire time you felt like hitting your head against the desk, because he didn’t really change.

“What’s so important about a quote?”

“Are you serious?”

“As serious as the Titanic.” You responded, brows furrowed.

He stayed quiet for a moment. “I don’t know.” He admitted, receiving a chuckle from you as you watched him flip through the book. “I don’t even understand this project.”

“Come on, we have to choose a quote from a historical piece of fiction, We were assigned Romeo and Juliet.” You said grabbing your book and flipping to a certain page. “Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” You teased, knowing that the page you were on didn’t have that in there.

The boy was technically older than you, but right now, you were the same age, and he was shaking his head with a smile. “It’s like she wanted him to be stalking her.” He responded.

“What?”

“She’s asking where he is.” He shrugged. “It’s weird, cause he still doesn’t come out when she asks that.”

“That’s not what she means. It’s early modern English. Phrases were different. She’s asking why he has to be Romeo. In modern words it’d be ‘Romeo, oh Romeo, why does it have to be Romeo.’ She’s upset because the guy she likes is in the enemy’s family.”

The boy looked at you, eyes scanning your face for a moment, looking for any hint of you joking, but he didn’t he finally spoke. “You could teach this class better than her.” He said in a hushed voice to make it so Mrs. Click didn’t hear.

“No-”

“L/n!” The two of you snapped your attention to the older woman who was scowling. “Back to work!”

You rolled your eyes and looked back to him as the bell rang. “That’s our cue.”

The 80’s were weird, and you didn’t like them. What with being so similar to home. With your uncle in the same history class as you, and being close to your dad, but older than him and not seeing him as your dad. And knowing people around you who were almost Baby Boomers, and in your time, would reprimand you for the jokes you made and your views of the world.

Being 16 in your time had been easier, able to cheat off websites for homework, and texting, which seemed to have been taken for granted by you.

Here, you couldn’t say you didn’t have a mom, but rather two dads. Because it was the 80’s and you knew the comments you’d get. You also couldn’t say your full name. That the dad you were genetically related to was the one who gave you the second last name that your uncle had and everyone would question it, and it pained you not being able to go by it, because he’d taught you more things than anyone else ever had. He’d taught you how to ride a book, and said that he’d be disappointed if you ever got ditching class, and that if you were going to do it, not to get caught for his sanity.

You would regret ever coming to this town with him, and you would regret the choice to ever run out of Enzo’s after your other dad yelled at you for being drenched from the rain after you ran in, finding that it was a formal restaurant and not a casual one. You’d regret going into the woods and getting lost, because all you wanted, was to be held by your dad and have him tell you it was going to be okay, You wanted to hear him walking down the hall late at night when he couldn’t sleep and you were hiding under your blankets with your phone, tying not to get caught for being up late.

But you had the fear that you’d never see your dad, as your dad. That you’d have to continue growing up in a time that has been written in history books. That you’d have to watch as technology progressed, and that you’d be conscious and aware for the year you were born.

You were still a kid, even if you didn’t look like it. Just six year ago, you’d been in elementary school, and you still got nightmares and went to your dads’ room because you were still scared of sleeping alone. You hadn’t been since, until now. You could barely sleep at night in the unfamiliar room of the motel you were living in, without your parent’s room down the hall.

But you were trying. And you wanted to redo everything, if you could build a time machine, you would. But that hadn’t even been available in your time, let alone 83’.

[smmahamazing]

“I’m not gonna make you take the medicine, but it’s there.”

Ayyyy only about a month later and I finished it! At first, I was going to try and incorporate this into the CB universe, but I had a cute little canon idea for this, so I went with it! Thanks for the prompt @superpixie42 , hope you like it <3

"I'm a youkai, I don't need any human medicine. I'll be fine by tomorrow!"

'If I have to hear that sentence one more time, I'm going to explode,' Kagome thought, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

Kagome was at her wits end. It had been a long week for the group of travelers. Absolutely no news of any Shikon shards or Naraku had put a damper on everyone's mood - feuling Inuyasha's already irate grumpiness to add to the mix of emotions. To top it all off, it poured the last two days of their travel back to Kaede's village. It wasn't quite winter yet, but the temperature had begun to steadily drop, turning the once warm droplets into freezing ice water.

The chill in the rain did not deter Shippo, the youngest in their group, from deciding to play in the rain. Kagome attempted to keep him distracted and amused so that she could keep him warm and dry, away from the chilled rain. She even went as far as telling him he would regret getting soaking wet, but the young kit would have nothing to do with it, deciding that jumping in mud puddles and catching rain drops on his tongue was a far more pressing matter.

The regret came the next morning in the form of sniffling and coughing, the obvious signs of the common cold. They were still a few hours away from Kaede's village, even if they rode on Kirara and Inuyasha, respectively. She bundled the kit up in the light jacket she had brought for this trip, foregoing her own warmth, and attempted to give him a dosage of children's cough medicine that she kept stored in her first aid kit. Attempted, but not successful as Shippo refused to take the medicine.

His refusal to take the medicine wasn't a complete shock to Kagome though. She could still remember how when Souta was around Shippo's age, he would whine and moan to their mother whenever he would end up with the cold, not wanting to drink the foul liquid that paraded itself as “bubblegum” or “grape” flavored, despite the fact that it would make him feel better. Even she used to put up a fit about taking her medicine - according to Mama anyways. And Shippo was still a child, so the unwillingness to take the medicine was natural.

But then, he proudly proclaimed a single sentence that would soon become the bane of Kagome's existence. 

"I'm a youkai, I'll be better by tomorrow."

She had been giving the inu hanyou of their group the iciest of glares ever since her young kit spoke the words. This new development was all Inuyasha's fault. How many times had young, impressionable Shippo heard Inuyasha say just that? About how he wasn't a 'weak human' and would heal in less than half the time? It didn't matter that Inuyasha was talking about physical wounds and not about viral diseases. Despite their ability to heal quicker than humans, Kagome knew youkai could get a common sickness like the cold. There were plenty of times that even Inuyasha would get the sniffles after a week of crazy weather patterns. Inuyasha even had his mother's recipe for medicine that he took as a child when he was sick.

Even if youkai could recuperate from a virus faster than a human, Shippo's youki would still be too little to really help with that.

‘If only he wasn’t as stubborn as Inuyasha.’

Currently, Kagome and Shippo were hunkered down in an old, unused hut that sat towards the back edge of the village. It was a little run down; the thatching in the roof was thinned out from the weather over the years, and the reed flap that served for a door had been ripped off. Kagome took a quick trip through the well, and thanks to her mother, came back with a variety of thick comforters that she hung on the walls, serving as a makeshift door, and covering the few holes of the "windows" the hut had. There was a small fire going in the middle of the hut, working collectively with the comforters hanging from the walls to create a warm space from the colder temperature outside. Kagome still had Inuyasha's fire rat fur draped over her shoulders,  given to her when she gave up her jacket for Shippo earlier that day.

Shippo laid on a long, plump body pillow, covered in an old crochet project of Mama's. His face looked a little pained, even as he continued to shrug off any medicine Kagome tried to give to him. In his hands, he held a small plush fox toy, the "fur" striped red and white, wearing a green elf hat. It was an old Christmas toy of Kagome's that her father had given her years and years ago. Most of her old toys ended up being donated, some saved in the attic for any future grandchildren of Mama's that might come to visit. There were a few, though, that Kagome kept around her room, toys that she saved because of an extreme emotional attachment. Kagome had locked eyes at the toy fox that sat on her desk when she went home to grab all those blankets. She knew that canid youkai, like both Inuyasha and Shippo, used their sense of smell in many ways, one way using certain scents to calm themselves. Kagome knew the tiny fox would be coated in her scent from all the times she would hold it close to her - a way for her to be close to her late father - and hoped that having her scent so near him would help to speed his recovery.

She didn't know what she wanted to do more; cry or scream. Truth be told, Kagome was scared.

She was aware of how something as small as the common cold can turn into something bigger or worse. Especially in these times, with no practiced modern medicine or hospitals, it was easy for someone to succumb to illness. Especially a child like Shippo. 

And no matter how much she pleaded and yelled, Shippo would simply not take the medicine. Kagome was even able to persuade Inuyasha to make that nasty tasting antidote he had her drink back when she got sick. She had hoped that if Shippo saw that Inuyasha had made the medicine - and even armed with the knowledge that he used it on occasion as a child - he would be more inclined to take it; she wanted to use Shippo's unspoken adoration with the hanyou in her favor. But the kit would not budge.

Inuyasha could smell Kagome's rising anxiety. Hell, he could see it in her face, she was never good at hiding her emotions. He was currently seated by the door, watching the exchange between the young woman and her young kit. She was getting nowhere with the runt. Inuyasha kept his face cool and unfazed, despite the lingering guilt that had begun to seep into his chest. It wasn't hard for anyone to see where Shippo was getting his skewed ideas about youkai and illness from. Even if he was as dumb as a board, the heated glares from Kagome sure could point him in the right direction.

'Keh, it's not my fault the runt is too stubborn for his own good,' he thought. Hell, he'd even gone out of his way to collect everything he needed for his mother's antidote, a surefire cure for the little cold he had, and the runt still was refusing it.

And as every minute went by, every sniffle, every sneeze, every slightly wheezing cough caused that sour, tangy smell to seep from Kagome's pores, the one that Inuyasha hated with a passion. The damn wench was going to put herself under the weather if she didn't start taking care of herself, and Inuyasha was sure that she wouldn't until Shippo took that damn medicine.

'At least she's still wearing the fire rat.' One small victory he supposed.

"Kagome," he said, startling the young woman from her rampant thoughts. "Go down to the baba's hut and grab something to eat."

It wasn't a question, or a suggestion; it was an order. Inuyasha took on a tone of voice he used when he was serious about something. If he thought about it enough, it was the voice of an alpha talking to his pack, but that was a thought for another day.

"Inuyasha, I can't - "

"And you can grab something for Shippo while you're there. He'll want something to chase down the medicine," he said, moving from his place by the door to a spot on the opposite side of the hut, closer to both the fire and Shippo.

"I told you I'm not - "

"But what about - "

A sharp growl cut both of them off, saying in no uncertain terms that his demands were to be taken seriously. Shippo began to cough some more while Kagome continued to stare him down, challenging him. Inuyasha could have responded with a deeper growl, which would have been his original comeback, but instead he softened his gaze, to tell her without words that he could take care of the kit while she was gone.

Not like he wanted to show her he could take care of kids mind you. He was just trying to be a decent friend.

Yeah.

Understanding his good intentions - only she could read him like an open book - Kagome rose with a quick nod of her head. She whispered a few words to Shippo, a soft promise to be back with food and for him to rest, and left the hut. Inuyasha could just barely smell the salt of her tears she most likely was shedding on her way to Kaede's, finally succumbing to her distress and anxiety.

Now, the only sounds in the dilapidated hut they hunkered down in was the crackling of the fire and the faint sniffles and coughs coming from the stubborn kit laying in the most luxurious bed the kit has probably ever seen. Inuyasha wanted to strangle the runt, to beat into him with just how lucky he was to have someone like Kagome. Someone to worry about his health, to feed and shelter him - both with love and home. But Inuyasha knew that Shippo knew all these things. He knew how Shippo felt about Kagome, since she was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever have now. All of his stubbornness to not take the medicine was coming from his pride as a youkai, to reaffirm to his human mother that he was strong.

It was a feeling Inuyasha knew all too well growing up. Most of his childhood was spent proving to himself that he could survive no matter the challenge - whether from hunger, fighting demons, or surviving any encounters from humans he might come across - but it was also a feeling he experienced with his own mother before her demise. Back then, he wanted to become a strong demon, like his father, so he could protect his mother from anything. 

No matter how much Inuyasha could relate to the young kit, taking that medicine was Shippo's only option if he wanted to get better. And Inuyasha was going to be the one to make him see it.

He grabbed the cup that held the antidote and thrusted it in front of Shippo's face.

"Drink," he ordered.

"I told you I don't - "

"Yeah yeah, I know what you said, and I don't give a damn. You're gonna drink this and get better you little runt."

"But - "

"No buts!" Inuyasha slammed the cup on the ground in front of him, a bit of medicine spilling onto the ground from the jarring movements. "Do you have any idea how worried Kagome is about you? This cold may be messing with your nose, but mine sure as hell works fine, and even a low class youkai could smell the anxiety coming off her. I know you're trying to show off to everyone, to show them you can handle something like this, but you're still just a kid. So you need to quit being a pain in my ass and let Kagome take care of you properly."

Silence once again filled the hut. Shippo stopped coughing, but Inuyasha could hear the sniffling of an almost crying child.

"Is….is she really that worried about me?" He asked, burrowing even farther into the blankets and pillow he rested on. Inuyasha didn't answer him, simply standing from his spot on the ground and moving towards the door.

"I'm gonna go help Kagome grab the food. I'm not gonna make you take the medicine, but it's there. You can either take it and get better to show Kagome the kind of youkai you'll grow up to be, or you won't." Without another look, Inuyasha lifted the heavy blanket and exited the hut.

He wasn't far from the hut when he swore he heard the sound of his young pup grimacing from the less than stellar taste of his mother's special cold medicine.