#and sorry for taking so long on this part. i am. lazy and procrastinate far to much

[sn-askblog]

Hello Yellow! Having a question for ya, why you make connection(with us of course)? Did you get bored?>.>

[dilly-oh]

Trashy Romance Novel

    “Naruto, you frigging idiot,” Iruka began hotly, barging into the hospital room, “of all the stupid, brainless things you could have done, this is by far the-”

    He stopped. 

    The person lying in the small bed was definitely not Naruto. It was a grown-ass man with messy gray hair and a faded scar over one eye, the sterile white sheets pulled up over his nose, apparently sound asleep. Iruka stared at him for a long moment, dumbfounded, before it clicked. 

    Oh shit, he thought. This is the wrong room. I'm in the wrong room. I need to hurry up and leave before- 

    The stranger's eyes cracked open and he squinted up at Iruka in confusion.

    “...Who're you?” he croaked out. Iruka managed a rather articulate gurgle of dismay, frozen in sheer mortification. He considered the distance between him and the IV drip, wondering if he could dose the man back to unconsciousness before he could scream or buzz for a nurse. “Are those for me?” the man asked, sitting up in bed to regard the bouquet of flowers in Iruka's arms. He opened his mouth to disagree, but then the sheet slipped off the man's face, and Iruka suddenly thought giving him the flowers might not be such a bad idea. He definitely deserved a thank you after gifting him with...that. He didn't even protest as the alarmingly handsome stranger reached out and took the bundle of flowers, opening the card on top. 

    “You're a dumbass. Love, Iruka.” he read aloud, then looked up at Iruka, batting his eyes. “Aww, babe, you shouldn't have.”

    “Whoa whoa WHOA!” Iruka finally blurted out, his face burning half from embarrassment at the situation, half from the thinly-veiled flirting. “I'm sorry, sir, there's been a mistake. I'm in the wrong room and-”

    “You mean you aren't my doting husband I tragically forgot about due to amnesia and now you have to win back my love by passionately recreating the story of our romantic union?”

    “Excuse me, WHAT-”

    “Sorry, I've been reading trashy romance novels. They're the only books this hospital has. Can't blame me for trying.” The man shrugged, then reluctantly handed back the bouquet. “Who's the lucky person they're actually for? Must be someone real special if you're calling them a dumbass to their face.”

    “My kid brother,” Iruka explained with a sigh. “He's here with a head injury.”

    “Ouch.” The man winced in sympathy. “Poor kid.”

    “Not really. He head-butted a brick wall.” 

    “...May I ask why?”

    “Because his stupid boyfriend walked into it and he had to, and I quote, 'defend his honor'.” Iruka paused, looking the man up and down. Despite being a bit on the pale side, he looked perfectly fine, pun very much intended. It was almost unfair how well he pulled off the hospital gown (although Iruka would much rather be the one pulling it off, wink wink, nudge nudge). “So...what're you in for?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Was...was it the crappy romance novels? Did they rot your brain?”

    “I have an extremely rare, aggressive form of cancer with only two weeks left to live and the only cure is a kiss from my one true love...” The man swooned back onto the pillow and looked expectantly up at Iruka, who rolled his eyes. 

    “Yeah they definitely did-”

    “Alright you got me. Broke my leg.” He pulled the sheet off his lower half, revealing his legs, one of which was wrapped in a cast, propped up on some pillows. Several encouraging words from friends were scrawled on the white surface in marker, one of them a jarring green highlighter. It almost hurt Iruka's eyes to look at it. 

    “...How did you break it?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity. 

    “I heroically threw myself in front of a speeding car in order to save the life of my beloved-” 

    “Okay how did you really break it?”

    “Tripped chasing after my pug at the park,” the man admitted with a weary sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. 

    “...Is the dog okay?” Iruka asked after a long pause.

    The stranger burst out laughing. It was a nice laugh, warm and contagious enough to elicit a chuckle out of Iruka, who was growing more and more intrigued. He couldn't deny the spark of attraction he felt for the other man, spontaneous as it was, and it seemed to be reciprocated. He didn't even know his name, but something about the man made Iruka want to know more about him. Maybe this was like some trashy romance novel, where the two would-be lovers met under unusual circumstances and fell instantly in-

    “Hey, Kakashi,” a man with short brown hair said, suddenly walking into the room, “I brought the next three volumes of your shitty porn series from the hospital library and a couple pairs of clean underwear, so you can stop fucking texting me the specific style and brand you want from home, you're so damn picky-” He stopped dead as he caught sight of Iruka, pausing for a beat, then glanced at the man in the bed, his eyes darting nervously between the two. “Umm...am I...interrupting something?”

    A cold pit of ice yawned open in Iruka's stomach. 

    Oh my GOD. Here he was, borderline flirting with some stranger in a random hospital room, when obviously the man already had a boyfriend and Iruka was just making a complete ass of himself. The flirting had probably been misinterpretation on his part anyway, and if not, the guy was a total dick. Either way, enough was enough. His face aflame with rage and shame, Iruka spun towards the door. 

    “I need to go.”

    “Hey, wait!” Kakashi or whatever his name was called after him. 

    Iruka was already out the door, ignoring the man's cries. Screw him, and screw Naruto, too. He was the cause of this whole mess. Iruka would just text him later. He was probably making out with Sasuke anyway and wouldn't even notice his brother hadn't popped in to visit. Iruka needed out of this hospital NOW. He turned towards the stairs, immediately got lost, and spent the next five minutes growing increasingly flustered as he stormed through the winding hallways, desperately searching for the exit. Why the fuck was the hospital so damn BIG-

    “Hey! Iruka! Hold up!”

    Iruka spun around to see Kakashi speeding towards him in a wheelchair, his boyfriend dutifully pushing him down the hallway at a dead run, IV dangling after him on its cord like a faithful dog. The wheelchair stopped with an audible squeal in front of him.

    “What- where did- did you steal that?!” Iruka hissed in outrage. 

    “Of course not, don't be silly,” Kakashi protested, sounding offended. “The guy it belongs to was asleep in his bed. I'm just borrowing it. I'll return it later. Anyway, Iruka-”

    “Were you flirting with me in there?” Iruka demanded, cutting him off. “Be honest.”

    “Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kakashi said without an ounce of remorse. “So can I have your number or what?” Iruka bristled. 

    “You're a piece of shit! I can't believe you, hitting on me like this right in front of your boyfriend! You have some nerve-”

    “Wait...boyfriend?” Kakashi cocked his head in confusion. “You mean Yams?”

    “The fuck do YAMS have to do with anything-”

    “Hi, that's me,” the short-haired man said, raising a hand. “Yamato, actually. 'Yams' to my friends. Which is what we are. Just...friends.” Iruka scowled at him suspiciously. 

    “Friends? Don't fuck with me. You brought him underwear-”

    “Really close friends,” Yamato reiterated. “Also, roommates. It's awful. I can't get away from him.” Iruka studied him for a moment, but couldn't spot any hint of deception. The man's almond-shaped eyes were surprisingly honest.

    “So you two...aren't dating?” he asked hesitantly. Yamato gave him a horrified look.

    “Dear God, NO. Kakashi is the WORST. He's lazy as hell, procrastinates til the last minute, is perpetually late to everything-”

    “You are a shit wingman-” Kakashi began. 

    “He needs to know what he's getting into,” Yamato snapped at him, then turned back to Iruka. “Seriously, though. You should run while you still can. There's hope for you.”

    “Don't listen to him,” Kakashi cut in. “I'm a fucking catch. Which is exactly why you should let your flaxen hair down, rip your shirt open to reveal your heaving bosom, and throw yourself into my arms-”

    “Will you cut that out?!” Iruka burst out impatiently. “Life is not a trashy romance novel.”

    “You sure about that?” Kakashi said, quirking an eyebrow. “Because I met you in a hospital through total coincidence. After really hitting it off, we had a misunderstanding brought on by miscommunication. Then I chased after you in a fucking wheelchair to declare my undying attraction to you. If that isn't a plot to a trashy romance novel, I don't know what the fuck is. At least it's not raining right now.”

    “I dunno, it might be drizzling,” Yamato said, glancing at a window.

    Iruka paused, considering.

    “I guess it...would make a pretty good book,” he admitted quietly. “The only thing is...I'm not sure what happens next.”

    “That part's for us to write,” Kakashi said, his tone eager. “Only we can complete the story.”

    “Aaaaand I'm going to puke,” Yamato stated. 

    “Sorry, we crossed the line from 'trashy' into 'sappy'.” Kakashi shook his head. “Anyway. Iruka. Please, I'm begging you. Let me sweep you off your feet. Just...give me a chance.”

    “I'll do you one better,” Iruka said after a pause. “I'll give you my number.” Stealing a marker from the nearby nurse's station, he bent and wrote his cell number on Kakashi's cast, then straightened and held out the bouquet. “Here, you can have these. The message works for you too, I guess.”

    Kakashi accepted the flowers with a laugh, taking an appreciative sniff. 

    “And now, I shall ride dramatically off into the sunset,” he said with complete seriousness. “Come, my valiant steed. Awaaaay!”

    “I will push you down the stairs,” Yamato grumbled as he spun the wheelchair around and started back down the hallway. Iruka watched them go with a fond smile on his face, giddy with anticipation. 

    He was eager to read the next few chapters in his life.

    Including the steamy bits. 

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Twelve Prompt: Hospitals)

[annetteblog]

Intro & My take on KM

Hi!

I’m new around here so it’s supposed to be (not so short) introduction, since I don’t know how to start a blog heh. I hope to sprinkle my 0.5 cents into the KM conversation and maybe to bring a new perspective from someone, who is not a part of the typical English-speaking West.

Who /the hell/ Am I?  

(please, consider it to be said with NJ’s voice from Intro: Persona :D)

I was born in Siberia (it’s in the Asian part of Russia), currently live in the European part of the country while studying at a Uni (European in terms of geography, not in terms of everything else i’m definitely not shading rn lolllll). English is not my first language, I’ve just kind of learnt it to some extent. Due to this it takes me more time to write a post; and I may (and will) make some grammatical & other mistakes. Plus I’m lazy AND busy with Uni, so I won’t even promise to be consistent in posting smth lol. But I thought I need more practice in terms of writing in English, so here I am, actually scribbling something. This feels weird, because I’ve been around stan Tumblr since 2015, but never ever interacted, just read.

How I ended up around Jikook/Kookmin (and BTS) & My (long&messy) take on this matter

Although I had heard of BTS before, I became an Army only in October 2018. I had kinda avoided them, because you know... boybands.... sing songs about romantic love and how they love girls.......... (+I had been around Twitter when 1D been at their peak and I remember a quite toxic community of fans, whom always had scared me). Shortly, hello stereotypes. Obviously, after I got engaged I felt terribly sorry that I had been sleeping on them, but what is done cannot be undone. 

Someone I knew back then reposted one of their MVs and I, during my sad hours of procrastination, decided to watch it. Then I saw their live performance with the same song. And I thought “wow these guys can sing and dance and the music is kinda cool, i need to check this out maybe??” 

Then a funny thing happened. One of the next videos I watched (the same person had it added to their page) was a 2016 BangtanBomb where JM and JK practiced their Coming of Age dance. 

Do you know this moment with Gina from the 1st episode of Brooklyn 9-9:

Well, that was precisely me after I watched it. I don’t even know how to explain this, it was kind of a gut feeling? Whatever you call it, I started to get suspicious and couldn’t even explain to myself why. /actually now a do have questions to this vid and the main one - why does everyone cringe that much? if it’s a girly choreo than they had done some “girly” moves before. why is there such strong reaction??/

I started to get deeper and went to some ru-shipper communities. Shipping culture among Russian speaking fans is... well, weird to some extent, but I maybe address this topic some time later. You need to consider that (as far as you probably know) Russia is quite homophonic country and sadly is not the greatest place for LGBTQ+ community at the moment. The non-frienly influential attitudes hanging in the society + the general shippers’ weirdness = the result is not that nice honestly. 

I struggled for some time in order to find more mature people (not just in terms of age but in general sanity), failed, ended up with some EXTREMELY toxic ru-fans of TK, which was/is the most popular pairing here, spent among them like 15 minutes and ran away horrified. After that I didn’t even try to engage with shippers or believers or whatever of any pair and just decided to enjoy the music and the content (which is a great idea, highly recommend!)

After a couple of days I discovered that JK makes videos. I love video, films and visual art so I immediately found them on YT, saw the titles with names of different cities from all over the world and was like “Oh that must be so cool, he’s visited so many outstanding places I’ve never been to, so I really need to watch it! I shall enjoy some beautyyy”. Then I clicked on GCFt.

Well, what can I say. I did enjoy some beauty, but not the type I had initially anticipated. The biggest clickbait in my entire life. JK should be proud of himself.

                                       /as I said - the beauty/

I had already known Troy back then and I known the song’s lyrics so it would not be an underestimation to say - the video just blew my mind. I was like - hold on is this real? seriously?? no really really????? he manage to get away with something THAT obvious?????? dude how

As a person who edited videos AND is not a native English speaker, I don’t buy the explanation “oh he mustve didnt get the lyrics lmao”. You just don’t do that. You don’t. DON’T. You google and translate every shit you don’t understand, every word and idiom you’ve never encountered, because otherwise the possibility of an epic failure is very likely. You wouldn’t want to give your mum a video as a birthday present and then discover that you used a song with WAP-ish lyrics, right? (well maybe that would be okay in your family, I don’t judge, but that’s not the case for people I know). So don’t you dare to degrade JK’s intellectual capacities; such assumption is really offensive. He is a smart boii, he knows exactly what he’s doing in terms of his art.

So I was shocked, but decided to look for the context - maybe I missed some previous events regarding this Tokyo thing (another great idea - always check the context). Well, apparently I didn’t, because the whole narrative with the trip for two, lovely selfies etc. made my poor brain lowkey explode. (I still don’t buy the rings theory thing though)

But I didn’t give up lol! I’m a bit stubborn and it’s very hard to convince me in anything, so I decided to search for more context, more of their interactions, moreeee. Remember, the late October 2018, there were no swan lakes, RB, and even MMA18 hadn’t happened yet. 

This time I ended up watching content in more or less consistent way, and when I saw all of these scenes with affectionate JM and a cool badass i-don’t-care-about-anyone-i’m-a-manly-man-with-no-feelings-whatsoever JK, I just hysterically laughed. 

Homophobic Russia, remember? I recognized this. Growing up here being LGBT myself, taught me the same type behaviour during my high school days. When a girl I kinda liked but didn’t what to admit it to myself was nice to me or (oh god) flirted with me, I did something similar. It’s like a huge panic mode. Being an introvert doesn’t help either. The funniest thing is that you may not entirely realise what exactly is going on in terms of your own feelings, especially at that age (16-18ish). In my personal case, I thought I liked her but as a friend, only later to realise that well not as a friend oops :DDD The second thing (already not so funny) is that you actually consciously or unconsciously try to avoid the subject as much as possible, as long as possible and pretend that nothing is going on. We’re just bros. Stop doing this stupid gayish thing and don’t look at me like that, you’re annoying. If you ever do this again I (gently) kick you. I’m straighter than a straight line in my math textbook. IDK, but probably that’s your brain is somehow trying to protect you. Again, in my case&position I knew that the consequences for any non-straight person being outed would be bad (TW not to the point of being killed bad, but to the point of being excluded from a big part of society). So for me it was a mixture of the internalized homophobia + lack of self reflection + just being a bit emotionally slow + very! straight community around. Shit happens, I was a teenager and made my share of mistakes, but that experience helps me to recognize the same pattern of behaviour up to this day.   

So coming back to KM, because the post is already waaay too long and I just ramble. It’s been 2+ years for me being a part of this fandom, and what can I say... Things become more intense and eventful with every year passing by ;) Funny how I felt that vibe from the 2016 dance practice video. Seeing the Black Swan performance a week ago almost had me choked, no joking. They are amazing.

                                                    Pure Art

However, and I would like to emphasize that, I do not incline that KM are 100% romantically involved and/or gay or whatever. I tend to treat people with respect and not to make too much assumptions about their private life. That’s not my business. However, I’m also not a fan of heteronormativity, so I’m just sitting here and observe everything that’s going on putting some distance and not forgetting being generally polite and critical thinking. But if they are just straightest besties please give them an Oscar before Grammy

Anyways, I hope this blog won’t kick the bucket from the very start and I will post something every now and then. You can always ask me questions about some BTS/Jikook related stuff or something about Russia and a Russian view on mass culture topics, since I’m pretty sure some of you have very stereotypical view of what is going on here :) However, do note that I’ve never been to America or Europe, therefore I may not be aware of something verrrry obvious to you or just have a completely different experience. 

P.S.  And yeah, I’m used to say Jikook, since it’s the name which is used much more frequently in Russian.  i like it better and what will u do haha

[mxbottleflip]

The Boyz - Son Eric [Smut] :^)

sorry i'm too uncreative for captions

heya ! after procrastinating for the last few hours i'm finally able to post my very first smut, yay ! enjoy, my loves ♡

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pairing: {brattamer/dom!eric (tbz) x fem!brat!reader}

summary: {eric is busy studying and you think of a way to get his attention-turning into smut obv.}

word count: {~1,3-1,4k}

warnings: {none really, issa smut lol}

requested: {yes, by anon ! dw i gotchu :D}

________________________________________

~tysm for the request !~

(also eric is still going to school in this au sksks felt like giving him homework to focus on fit pretty nice)

NOT PROOF READ BECAUSE I'M TOO LAZY MYSELF AND HAVE NO FRIENDS TO DO THAT FOR ME (:

ACTUAL START DOWN HERE

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the way eric licked his lips while working on his homework got you weak in the knees. he looked so incredibly hot whenever he was concentrating on something, you could watch him for years. "y/n could you please stop staring at me like that ? it kinda makes me nervous..", eric finally spoke up and turned around in his seat to look at you. you were sitting right next to him and probably haven't looked away a single time since he started studying.

your eyes were scanning his face, all of his features.. his damn good looking face almost made you angry. "what the fuck are you so handsome for ??", you yelled and let out a fake cry. eric just laughed at it and turned back to the bunch of papers infront of him: "yeah i mean if i had nothing good about me, i wouldn't have such a gorgeous girlfriend like you eh ?"

his words also put a smile on your face, but honestly you weren't in the mood for sweet talk right now. you've been extremely horny since you guys woke up in the morning and eric rather gave all his attention to his stupid homework than to his "gorgeous girlfriend".

"how long will that stuff take ? i've been waiting for hours and i need you right nowww", you whine. "mhm patience my girl, rushing me wont help you", he responds.

a sigh left your mouth and you let your hand fall on his thigh, resting it there for some time. he obviously didn't mind, so you started carressing it, giving it some squeezes in between. "y/n please, if the fact that you are staring at me all the time didn't make me nervous enough, this is, for sure.. i'll be finished very soon and will be all yours then, alright ?", he scratched his head and gently pushed your hand away from his thigh. flashing him the biggest smile and nodding at the same time, you stood up and walked over to his closet. you'd be getting what you wanted, one way or another.

you opened erics closet, looking for one of his shirts to throw on. after you found what you were looking for, you unclasped your bra and pulled your shirt over your head. tossing them both on the floor, you turned around to see if eric was looking - no chance. you groaned, took off your pants and threw them onto your other clothes. while quickly slipping his shirt over, you still kept an eye on him. honestly how could anyone look THAT hot while studying ??

you were now left with only his big ass tshirt and your panties on, making your way back to him. instead of sitting back onto your own seat, you let yourself down on erics lap. he let out a sigh once again: "you comfortable now, ma'am ?" you hummed in response and started to move around a little, trying to get even more 'comfortable'.

"if you insist on sitting in my lap, could you at least stay still ? listen, you're not the only person in this household who'd prefer to do something else right now, but i really have to get this done and having you move around on my dick is not helpi- is that my shirt you're wearing ??"

this time you didn't respond in any way, you just kept moving around and squeezing his thighs. eric tried to push you off of his lap, but you stayed stubborn: "is there a problem with it ? also,, your little friend's telling me you love having me in your lap.."

"no, there's not but.. please get up, i can't work like that ! and never call my dick 'little friend' again !", he complained. after he tried to push you away multiple times, you actually got up and were now standing next to him, looking like you don't belong anywhere.

"you know i'd love to spend my time with you right now, but i really have to focus on studying at the moment.. also, why the hell are you not wearing pants anymore ??", he groaned after seeing your bare legs poke out below his shirt, ".. you're really something else, you know that, right ? just let me finish my work now." you had to hold back a laugh at how annoyed he seemed, but compared to you, eric didn't think there was anything to laugh about. he rolled his eyes, concentrating on his studies again.

at this point you were becoming a little frustrated too, not understanding how he could still resist you and STILL prefer working on school rather than working on you (ehehe). all of the sudden an idea came to your mind, that one has to work for sure !you grabbed the pen he was currently writing with and threw it on the floor;

"oh noo, seems like you dropped something.. let me help you !"

you bend down in front of him, revealing half your ass and picking up the pen, when you're being pulled back onto his lap again. "enough of that, stop playing around already. you just wont let me study, will you ? fucking brat, you think you can keep acting up like that all day and expect me to stay calm ?"

out of shock you dropped the pen you just picked up again and immediatly felt your heat throbbing at his reaction.

did that really just work ??

now he was the one to squeeze your thighs, but he didn't go easy on you. he grabbed a handful of your flesh and roughly kneaded it until you felt a burning pain spreading in that area, the pain causing you to moan. "bet you just wanted me to snap at some point, right ? test how far you could push me until i go crazy ?" you hummed, slightly embarrassed at the fact, that seeing your boyfriend being annoyed of you turned you on that much.

after you admitted to that, his hands were quick to find their way to your core, rubbing your clothed clit. you let your head fall back onto his chest, "knew it.. ", he whispered. eric also murmured something else you didn't quiet understand, but you were just trying to enjoy the moment really. "all that teasing just for the tiniest bit of pleasure..", he then added, ".. you couldn't even be patient about it.. unbelievable."

after a good minute of him straight up teasing you, you started whining. "please, s-stop teasing me..", you stuttered.

"huh, what did you say ? weren't you the one to start all the teasing ?", he cheekily asked, and you just groaned in response. "come on, speak up baby, tell me what you want." "please.. just touch me eric god damn, i've been waiting for this the entire day, i really need you, please.."

that earned you a little chuckle from eric: "hmm i don't think you derseve to be touched at all, thinking of the way you acted up all day..", regardless of what he just said, he got rid of your panties and started properly rubbing your clit. his free hand went up to your throat, giving it a good squeeze, "you've been such a brat, not listening to me and teasing me all day.. shouldn't i be punishing you rather than pleasuring you now ?"

you shook your head 'no': "you just looked so good concentrating on your stuff and all and- oh fuck..", you were interrupted by him letting a finger sink into you, curling it upwards and squeezing your throat tighter. finally getting what you wanted just felt way too good..

"god, feels like you're soaking and i haven't even started yet..", eric panted and started moving his finger inside of you, soon adding another one. "feels.. so nice.. please keep going.." your breathing became even heavier as the hand that was resting around your throat now went down to your boobs, teasing your nipples and twisting them gently. by that time you could feel an obvious bulge poking at your butt, so you tried lifting your hips a bit and returning the favor. "don't even think about that, you're not getting to touch me", eric demands, increasing the speed of his fingers pumping in and out of you, "drop your attitude first."

"i-i don't know what you mean..", you panted and closed your eyes, to solely focus on his actions. "oh, so now you don't know what i'm talking about anymore ?", he mocked and pumped his fingers as far into you as he could, earning a surprised moan from you, ".. you don't remember dropping that pen on purpose just to show your fucking ass off to me ? was that someone else then ?" him bringing that up made you clench around his fingers and you couldn't hold back any of your moans anymore. you automatically pressed your butt against his bulge, hoping to get any kind of response to that.

even though he managed to hold back how horny he actually was pretty well, you could clearly hear him cursing under his breath now. "and also.. shit.. what are you gonna do about it, huh ? about me disrespecting you and.. n-not listeni-.." eric shoved his free fingers into your mouth, stopping you from talking. "shut your mouth already, am i not doing enough for you yet? needy little brat, once i've made you cum i'll throw you on the bed and fuck some sense into you, but you'd probably even like that, wouldn't you ?"

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if you read until here,, wow, tysm ! i hope you somewhat enjoyed it lol

i'm actually thinking about writing a part 2, if anyone would even be interested in that.. anywaysss

feel free to request whatever you like !

feedback is always welcome ~

stay healthy & stan the boyz ♡

honestly what a visual god wow

[bqstqnbruin]

Three times he said it as a friend and once as something more

Hello, hello. I’m still working on the Nick Robertson request but wow I don’t want you to hate me for it because it is actual trash right now and I’m sorry. But I’m also working on B&W part 3, so there’s that!

This was requested from that fluffs prompt list, which I think I’m done with now because honestly, it’s so far deep at this point, and I’m so lazy.

I hope you like it!

46. Why should we date?

47. Because we’re attracted to each other

48. I’m attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.

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one

“Next time I see you, I really do expect you to be a professional athlete,” you tell Charlie, the two of you laying on a blanket in his backyard, enjoying the last few hours of sunlight on his last night in town. The next morning, he would be leaving to go to BU to play hockey. It wasn’t even that far, but him not living at home, and you going to school in Vermont meant him no longer driving you to school each morning, you no longer going over with dinner your mom made when she knew he and his parents were running around because of his games, no more walking next door whenever you needed to talk to instead of calling him. The memories would last forever, but those moments were now just part of the past.

“Are you not gonna come see me play at BU at all? What about when we play UVM?” he says, turning his head to look you.

Turning to him, you roll your eyes, “Ok, fine. Then I expect you to be a professional athlete in the next three years.” 

“Whatever,” he says, laughing. 

You sit there in silence, taking in what is probably one of the last moments for a while that you two will be able to spend a lot of time together. 

“Remember how we became friends?” he asks, sitting up. 

You follow suit, laughing at the memory that he just triggered. You were neighbors since your family moved to Weymouth, but you weren’t automatically friends because of it. “Well, duh. We sat across from each other in Family Consumer Science. We, of course, always finished the work early because we’re great, and we played pencil hockey for like thirty minutes before Mrs. Grace yelled at us for distracting the other two at our table.”

“The fact that you ever finished your work fast in that class is still amazing. You get distracted by everything and can’t focus on anything.”

“Yeah, well,” you shrug it off. You sit there thinking of all the other good memories you had with him; sitting across from each other in US history and joking about all the mistakes you made while texting, the nights when you would walk around Boston Common once your parents trusted you out on your own, the last minute Bruins tickets he would get and force you to go along with him to the games.

“Did you ever think about what our lives would have been like if we dated?”

“What?” you ask, shocked. There was no way the two of you would ever date. He was destined to be a professional hockey player, traveling the US and Canada with whatever NHL team wanted him. You could never date someone that wasn’t going to be there when you needed them. And you couldn’t ask him to give up your dream for you. Yes, you were overthinking this, but best case scenario is that you had dated throughout high school and ended things tonight.

“Most people thought we were dating, anyway. What if we actually had?”

“Then we probably would have broken up tonight because long distance relationships from high school never work. Look at Andrea and Eric from last year, she went to Holy Cross and he only went to UConn and they could never make it work so they broke up. Or Josh and Maggie two years ago; he went to Ohio and ended up transferring to UMass so he could be with her and he loved Ohio State.”

“Too bad we never even gave it a chance.”

You look at him, shocked. “Did you want to?”

His only response was shrugging, a smile on his face as he lays back down on the blanket. You stay sitting up, thinking about what he just said. Did he want to date you all this time and never said anything until now? And why the hell would he do something like that anyway? You weren’t going to see him until at least Thanksgiving, which means that now you have to hyper fixate on this one memory until you see him again. 

“Hey,” he says, snapping you out of it.

“Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

two

Your phone lights up, causing you to tear your eyes away from the essay you had been writing that’s due in a few hours. Due to your great talent for procrastinating, you were, of course, finishing the paper at the last minute. The picture of you two in the Coyle’s front yard on your first day of school in six grade shows up on your screen, meaning Charlie was calling you. It had been forever since the two of you last talked; with you being in school and him trying to make it as a hockey player in Minnesota, your schedules never gave you a free moment to talk for more than a passing moment. 

“Hey, stranger,” you say, not hiding the smile on your face even though you were out in public. You hated showing any sort of emotion that would provoke someone to come up to you and start talking to you, but seeing Charlie’s name come up on your phone with something other than a text automatically made you smile. 

“Stranger? You know who I am.” You could tell by his voice that he was jokingly acting offended. 

“Yeah, you’re Zach Parise, right?” you tease.

You hear the laugh you miss so much on the other end, “How have you been?”

“Uh, stressed, lately, so nothing new.”

“Why?”

“Homework, papers, and exams.”

“Oh, my.” You both start laughing at the accidental joke he made, “Why so much stuff?”

“It’s midterms, babe.” 

“So I assume that you’re working right now?”

“Yep, it’s eight pm, the paper is due at midnight and I still have four more pages to write.”

` “I’m so glad that your work ethic hasn’t changed since high school.”

“Ok, rude! I have good work ethic, I just also have strong procrastination skills.”

“You probably have ADHD,” he says.

“Well, yes, but that’s a different story.”

“What’s your weekend look like? I want to catch up when you don’t have a lot of work to do.”

“Uh, I should be good.”

“Alright, get back to the paper.”

“I will. Love ya.”

“Love you, too.” 

three

“Oh, come on! We practically live together. You can’t deny that something is going on between us!” Charlie argues, pacing around the kitchen as you make dinner. This conversation between the two of you was becoming a weekly one, slowly getting on your nerves to the point where you would consider moving just to get away from it. 

“Because what happens if we break up? We’ve been friends since we were in middle school. Do you really want to throw all that away?” you say, turning to him, putting your hand on your hip. 

“I just think we should go out as more than friends just once.”

“And how would that be different than all the other times that we go out together?”

“Because then I could do things like hold your hand and flirt with you?”

“I’m like ninety percent sure you already flirt with me.” 

“Y/N.”

“Why should we date, Charlie?”

“Because we’re attracted to each other?”

“And I’m attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie,” you roll your eyes, turning your attention back to the stove. 

“You’re seriously equating me to pie right now? I have never seen you eat pie, therefore, that argument is invalid.”

“Since when do you say things like therefore, and invalid?” 

“Seriously, Y/N. You know I have wanted to date you since we were in middle school, but something always came up. You know I love you. You know I always have.”

You turn back to him, trying to make eye contact, but something in you just can’t. Your timing was never right. Once you were old enough to date, the two of you were never single at the same time. Actually, that isn’t true. You were both single for a brief period of time while he was playing with the Sea Dogs and you were still at UVM. This was the first time that both of you were single and in the same town. 

“Charlie, you know that I love you, too. But this can not happen. We can’t risk breaking up and ruining what we have.” 

He exhales, obviously disappointed. You were, too, but you couldn’t let that show. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, but you couldn’t let all those years of friendship go away if things didn’t work out between the two of you. “Fine.”

once

“Remember when you wouldn’t date me?” he asks over the sound of everyone around you.

“Remember when you were less annoying?” you roll your eyes. You look around to see so many other couples and families filling in the tables around you. Everyone looked so happy, just like you were. 

You and Charlie had been together now for a year, him finally wearing you down and convincing you to let him take you on a date. He promised you that even if you stopped dating, your friendship would never end because, at this point, you were in too deep anyway. He told you he had this whole evening planned for your anniversary, complete with a walk around the Boston Common like you used to do when you were kids, dinner at Terramia, your favorite restaurant, and for dessert, he was taking you to Mike’s Pastries for the cannoli you loved so much. 

“No, never,” he smirks, reaching out across the table to take your hand.

You had to admit, all the things he had said trying to convince you to date him were right; nothing was really that different between the two of you besides the intimacy that wasn’t there before. “You’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

“No.” 

You roll your eyes at him. You didn’t want to inflate the ego of the man who didn’t even know how to use the oven by telling him he was right that you two dating was fine. 

“Hey,” he says, like that last night before he went off to college.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You smile, thinking back to all those times you told each other those three words, them meaning something completely platonic. “I love you, too.” 

[mimzy-writing-online]

Hey!! I was wondering if you had any advice for a character concept I've been playing with? :) long story short, my character wasn't born blind, but throughout the story she progressively becomes blind from cataracts- cortical vision impairment to be exact. Is this inherently a bad concept? I really don't want to misrepresent this, and the last thing I want is to make people mad about it. Is there a way I should go about this? Thanks!!

Later message from same Anon: Hey! Just following up on my ask of writing a blind character in the Victorian era- sorry if I missed it

Note: in a message between the first and third, anon added that this story takes place in the Victorian era.

You certainly did not miss it, I’ve just been lazy (struggling) with blog maintenance and have been procrastinating answering several asks.  Historical fiction is out of my area of expertise, so this required more research than general advice.

Also, my first and second attempts at an answer were eaten away by computer/tumblr difficulties, so I had to rewrite a lot.

I think it is a fantastic idea to have your character go blind slowly over time. It is also ambitious, so it is something you need to be careful with, but it’s totally doable.

So the era throws me a little because I’ve never had much practice with historical fiction and history wasn’t a fave subject of mine. Most of my research into blind history has been after World War I, because the sudden surge of blinded veterans changed the course of history for the blind community. This and technology overall led to those huge changes.

So I did a little reading up on the recent evolutions of blindness and the world’s general understanding of it in the 1800s.

Conclusion: society was shit with disability, but I already knew that. There were some remarkable inventions and innovations for blindness in this century, which I will get to later.

 So this post will be: 1. The more personal aspects of going blind over time (instead of all at once) such as acceptance vs denial, life changes, and internalized ableism. 2. Speculating on society’s perception of the blind. 3. Innovations for the blind in that era and what comes after.

 So, part one. The Emotional…

As someone who has slowly lost vision over the course of years and has no idea how far this will progress, I can tell you that it’s an agonizing process of realization, denial, understanding, acceptance, adaption.

Realizing you’re going blind comes in small pieces that eventually add up to become a puzzle. And for this reason, adaption follows a similar pattern.

You identify a problem, feel conflicted about this change, wonder if you should ignore or investigate, and regardless of which path you take, you find a new way to adapt.

I’m going to use an example of my process through this, so you can see the actual thought patterns and how they circle between “this isn’t a problem” – “wait this is a problem” – “no I’m fine!” – “this is a problem.” – “I’m fine, what am I complaining for” – “I made this change and now my life is 100x easier??? Who knew? Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

Example from my life: Light is bright. That hurts but I’m fine. I get sunglasses. The pain with bright light is getting worse. Okay, that’s concerning, maybe I should talk to a doctor. Doctor says I’m fine but now I’m thinking I’m not okay. Why are my eyes doing this? Why do I hurt? Oh, and now bright lights at night are becoming a problem, and I get more headaches associated with light. I could wear sunglasses at night and indoors, but society has given me a negative and judgemental opinion of that, so I don’t want to do it. Best friend pushes me to give up on that negative view for the sake of my health. Finally I listen and life feels much better, but I’m still a little uncomfortable with this change. I feel very blind with my sunglasses, but that’s the only way to not feel pain. And now I feel blind when I’m not wearing any light protection, but I’m in pain this way. What’s wrong with me?

And this is just my internal argument with sunglasses and light sensitivity, from age 17-22. On the other side is my struggle with “do I need a cane” from age 21-22, which goes like this-

It’s August and I’m walking through a semi-familiar but gigantic and ridiculously crowded park with a group of friends. It’s bright out and I need to wear my sunglasses. And now I’m realizing there is a dilemma. I can’t see. My sunglasses are too dark to see. But going without is painful and just as bad vision wise. BUT I CAN’T SEE! I’m scared, I’m going to run into someone or something, I’ll get lost or separated from my friends and not be able to find them. I can’t see curbs or pillars or people and the only thing keeping me safe is holding onto K, who knows my current vision situation when no one else does

And I think to myself- this day would be so much easier if I had a cane.

But I haven’t needed one before, and I don’t ‘normally’ need one. Just every time I go outside on a sunny day. I don’t need it all the time, so I can’t have one, I’m fine.

But these things keep happening, where I’m outside and terrified but I think I’m still “sighted” and my only problem is some light sensitivity and not-super-great sunglasses. My glasses let me see 20/20 (or they did, which they did not a year later) so I definitely don’t need a cane at all.

Young past self, you were so wrong. You needed that.

Eventually I had a breaking point when one year later I’m seeing 20/50 with best correction (so, by legal definitions I’m not even visually impaired yet) but I’m terrified of leaving my house and can’t travel alone and am a literal danger to myself because I can’t see and can’t tell people I can’t see because of social anxiety and internalized ableism-

And the breaking point was that I finally got seriously hurt because I was in a situation where I couldn’t see and wasn’t brave enough to ask my current company to be a sighted guide. That’s the day I ordered a cane, and when it came two weeks ago, I finally remembered what it’s like to not be so terrified for my life every time I left my home.

Your character will over time find problems with her daily life that she didn’t have before, and she’ll deal with each one individually, but with all of them will usually be a repeating thought pattern that is unique to her. It depends on her internalized ableism and society’s ableism (and that era is full of it) and accommodations available to them at the time (also not great).

She’ll solve each problem at a different point that may coincide with other problems and yet still seem like entirely separate problems to them. Like how I wouldn’t relate my need for sunglasses and my need for a cane at the same time because they felt like separate battles to me with their own timelines and similar but still different thought processes.

You will have to decide on a case by case basis what accommodations or accessibility she can have at that time.

 Society’s view on blindness:

It’s shit.

It’s not great now, in the world of information available at your fingertips. It’s desperately worse in history.

 (TW: abuse of disabled people mentioned -thoroughly- in the next two paragraphs)

Everyone with a disability was treated like shit. Sensory disabilities (Deaf or Blind or Deafblind people) and mental illness were treated the worst. There is historical religious persecution against them, saying that they were made ill by the devil or a vengeful God. Which lead to abuse. They were seen as helpless or unproductive, defective, and so were treated as burdens upon their family and society. Because of this, abuse from parents and family members was horribly common for disabled people. Disabled people were often left in asylums by their family members because they were seen as a burden, where there was usually still more abuse to come.

There are still children with disabilities who are abused by their parents, families, care givers, or any facility they’ve been placed in. The cases of abuse are less, but by no means over.

 Ableism in general is just rampant and it’s only cured through the distribution of information. Most people (today) have never met a blind person in real life, had a conversation with one. Through the internet they can find information, but in pre-internet and media eras I can’t imagine how much ignorance runs about.

Most people think blindness is something that only happens with old age, birth defects, or tragic accidents. Or that blindness is obvious in a person. Not the case, as we both know, but certainly a cause for many misunderstandings.

 This section is where the development of technology and understanding of blind people begins, but there’s still some ugly history involving abuse of the disabled to come.

Technology and History

 (TW: abuse towards historical disabled people in next paragraph)

In 1785 the Institut National des Jeunes Aveugles, the world’s very first school for the blind was established in Paris, France. It was opened internationally to children who society had previously deemed unteachable. Valentin Haüy witnessed acts of bullying and cruelty done to blind hospice patients and it inspired him to attempt teaching a blind beggar. He taught the boy to read through raised letters (because Braille was not yet invented). The school he founded could better be described as a trade school, because its primary purpose was to teach work skills like letter press and weaving (going back to Valentin’s childhood, whose family worked as weavers)

Due to criminal activity (he was labeled as a terrorist related to the French Revolution and was a member of the Panthéon Club) he was forced to leave the school in 1802. He later moved to Russia (1806) and began a new school upon the request of Alexander I of Russia.

(TW: child abuse mention in next paragraph)

After his leave, the school had a change in leadership and location, and subsequently quality. Sébastien Guillié became the new director and was later forced to leave because of the inhumane conditions of the facility and welfare of the children. Those children lived in a French Revolution prison that was refurbished as an asylum/school for their education. It was cold and dirty. They were kept in the dark, only allowed to bathe once a month, and poorly fed. This went on until 1821 when he was forced to leave.

Louis Braille (the inventor of Braille) was a student of the school until Guillié’s reign of terror.

The school was later moved to Boulevard des Invalides, and it remains there today. Information with this school is hard for me to access. It doesn’t have the prettiest history, so I can only speculate how much was left out of the books to save the school, and what information I could access is in French.

However, back to Braille.

Braille was invented by Frenchman Louis Braille in 1824. Before his invention, he was taught to read through raised lettering, and he concluded that raised lettering was impractical because-

1.       It is difficult to read, the letters had to be printed in huge font to be fully felt out and printed on thick paper.

2.       Thick paper means higher quality, more expensive. Larger font means more paper is needed for a single text.

3.       This made it inaccessible due to expense and the sheer volume of a text.

4.       If today’s Braille books are hard to access and giant compared to traditional books, I can’t imagine how inaccessible those raised letter books really were

 Five years later The Perkins School for the Blind was founded in America, making education accessible to blind and deafblind children, and this time it focused on reading and mathematics, more education than trade school.

Though it would not have been possible for your character to attend the school herself, it could be possible that she became acquainted with a teacher or former student of either school, who might have passed on some O&M skills to her or some not so pleasant tales.

Side note: the Perkins Brailler (a typewriter machine for Braille) was developed by a wood working teacher at the Perkins School for the Blind – in 1951, so not applicable to your character’s time period, but I didn’t know this, so I must info-dump

 This is before the eugenics movement of 20th century America, when the belief that people with “poor breeding” should be prevented from breeding. The eugenics movement targeted not only the disabled, but lower class and people of color.

  The white cane as an accessibility tool was not “discovered” until the 1930’s by Philip Strong, who painted his walking stick white to make himself more visible. This piece of history is a little flimsy in my opinion. Techniques are discovered and lost and rediscovered all the time. You can’t prove he was the first person to “wave a stick” in front of him to find obstacles.

But he is credited for making the white cane something that could be a standard identifier to tell people (moving obstacles) “hey, I’m blind, don’t hit me with your loud vehicle” and made a movement of other people getting white canes to identify themselves.

I very much thank him for it, seeing as I’m so sighted-passing sometimes. If white canes weren’t standard everyone-must-know-what-this-means sort of thing, I think people would just watch me “wave a stick” around and think I’d lost my mind.

(TW: suicide of disabled character mention in next paragraph)

So when you see something like in Downton Abby (season 2) when Thomas and Sybil are trying to teach a blinded soldier how to use a cane to navigate… it could be possible, something that actually occurred to some people then. Although, now that I think about it, that character killed himself by the end of the episode and that still upsets me.

Downton Abby got the period-typical ableism right, I will give them that. Both the internalized ableism as well as how strangers treat you, they got that right. What they did to their disabled characters still bothers me (i.e. death and cure subplots)

(TW has been lifted, you made it past.)

But with World War 1, there was a huge number of blinded veterans entering the world and that did make way for big changes in the world of blindness-

Within a few decades guide dogs were being trained, white canes were becoming a thing, Schools for the Blind were thinking, “hey, maybe we should teach adults these skills too!” and life continued on until it eventually reached out modern world. Which, not applicable to your era, but I think it’s important to know what wasn’t available or common knowledge for your character.

If anyone has other information about historical fiction, the Victorian era, and historical ableism and disability, please feel free to reblog with your input and I’ll reblog it.

As always, this post can be found on my blog through the tags: reference, blind character, historical fiction

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Friday Night Tradition (a What He Wants AU short)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s first week at work with you comes to an end and you establish a sweet Friday night tradition. Set in the AU of What He Wants, which you can read HERE if you missed it.

Warnings/ Content: Primarily sweet fluff but there is implied smut and reference to a panic attack (not Bucky’s for once!)

Word Count: 1348

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! We’re back in the What He Wants AU :) I am so excited to start sharing a few little shorts with you all now that I’m back from vacation. I spent the past week on a beach just chilling, drinking, and letting my mind live in this little AU I created. I got this first piece scrubbed finally (sorry I’m a procrastinator!) and hope you all enjoy diving back in where we left off. Also, for the tag list peeps: I’m tagging all the original WHW tag list, if any of you want removed, or if anyone new wants to be added, just let me know. 

XOXO - Ash

Friday Night Tradition

“What a week.” Bucky groans as he flops down on your bed. It’s barely seven o’clock on Friday night and he looks like he’s ready to pass out. 

Everyone at the therapy center had been so happy for your return and they welcomed Bucky with open arms. It had still been a long week though. You were getting caught up on everything you had missed and the new patients who you had yet to meet while Bucky was slowly finding his place. He was eager to help out and his efforts were appreciated by everyone. Bucky was surprisingly adept with a tool kit and put himself to work without being asked, repairing little odds and ends that no one else had the time or knowledge to fix. He liked to stay busy and the small jobs made him feel like he’d really accomplished something by the end of the day. 

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him lying on the bed, concerned you’ve pushed him too far, too fast. “You were amazing, babe, really. I don’t think we would have had as much success with Brighton if you hadn’t been there.” 

Josh Brighton is a 21 year old vet who had lost his right leg in a land mine explosion eight months ago. He’s still getting used to his new prosthetic and suffering from PTSD, depression, and crippling anxiety. Josh had been a VA referral to the center and they had just started working with him the previous month. Earlier that morning he’d had an episode when a chair Bucky was repairing slipped and crashed hard on the tile floor. The sound had triggered something in Brighton, causing him to throw his own chair and pull a table back into a corner to shield himself from some unknown assailant. The counselors had come running but Bucky held a hand out, stopping them. He knew from painful experience what the younger man was going through and had talked him through the episode with soft, measured, tones, repeating his name, the date, where he was, and that he was okay. After a few minutes Bucky had helped Brighton up and they took a long walk around the grounds until it was time for his appointment. During his session Brighton had openly spoken about his triggers for the first time and the therapist called the progress he’d made remarkable. 

Bucky nods and sighs hard, remembering the anguish in the younger man’s eyes when he had gotten past the blind fear and realized he’d had another panic attack. Bucky is thankful he was there to help him but knows it’s going to be a long recovery process and he hopes that Brighton takes his advice and comes a little early next week to walk with him again. Bucky rubs his right hand across his forehead like he’s fighting back a headache. “He’s a good man, he just needed a little space to get back to himself.”

“Yeah, and you recognized that.” You climb onto the bed next to him, wrapping your body against his and pressing a kiss against the cool metal of his left bicep. “I know it was a lot, especially for your first week, so if you want to take a long weekend we can. Or if you think you might want to start out part time and drop down to two or three days a week that would be okay too. Just tell me what you want, Buck.”

Bucky opens his eyes and rolls so his body is pressed up against yours, wrapping his right arm tightly around your waist. “What I want is to stay right here in this bed with you for a little bit longer, order some delicious, greasy, Chinese food, and watch that new Disney movie with the blonde chick and the snowman.” 

“Frozen isn’t considered new anymore.” You chuckle.

“Hey, I remember when Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs came out. As far as I’m concerned, anything after Bambi is new to me.” 

“I forget sometimes that you’re just a little old man.” You tease him lightly. 

“Oh come on, I’m only a hundred and six.”

“And you look damn good for your age.” You plant a kiss on his forehead and then wiggle to pull your phone out of your back pocket without moving out of his embrace. Bringing up the menu for your favorite Chinese place you scroll through the options hunting down your favorites. Your wiggling had some unexpected consequences however and Bucky grinds his hips against yours, pressing his hardness against your hip. 

“Hey, mouse.” He whispers against your shoulder, “I thought of something I want more than dinner.” He rolls his hips again, pressing as firmly as he can against you.

You roll your eyes and turn off your phone, knowing exactly what he’s doing. You can’t really be annoyed with him though, he’s been so much better about telling you what he wants and asking for things. Every little request is progress; Bucky taking control of his life and no longer being bound by circumstances beyond his control. You watch the mischievous glint in his eyes as you ask, “And what, James Buchanan Barnes, do you think you want now?” You bite the inside of your cheek trying not to smile. 

Bucky’s lips curve upwards in amusement. “You know what I want.” He captures your hand in his, pulling it close and pressing it against his chest so you can feel his heart beating wildly. 

“I don’t think I do.” You’re smirking now, unable to help yourself. 

“It’s what I always want.” Bucky hisses out a breath as you push your hips back against his when he rolls them again. 

“And what is that?” You’re all but panting now, ready to end the silly game you’ve started.

“You.” Bucky crushes his lips down on yours at last, pulling you impossibly close, and then running his right hand up your shirt. “It’s always you.” He says while he trails kisses down your throat. “From the minute I wake up to the minute I fall asleep, and in every dream. It’s always you.” 

You moan, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Your body ignited by his words and the feel of his lips against your skin. The plans for Chinese food and a Disney movie are quickly forgotten as your clothing is tossed the floor and you discover that Bucky’s way of unwinding after a long week is exactly what you needed too. 

Hours later when you’re sprawled out across your large bed, breathing heavily, limbs tangled together, Bucky remembers he’d had other plans for the night and pulls up the menu for your favorite Chinese place on his phone. He calls in an obscene amount of food and grumbles when he discovers Frozen is no longer on any of your streaming services. He finally settles on Moana right as the food arrives and you curl up with him to eat dinner on the sofa. Bucky looks inexplicably happy perched on “his” end of the sofa, sitting with his legs crossed under him, sex-mussed hair falling around his shoulders, and a ridiculous plate of Chinese food on his lap. “What’s up, doll?” He asks after he swallows his giant bite of crab rangoon. 

“You seem happy.” You say honestly. 

It catches him off guard and he pauses for a moment to think over your words before responding. “I am. I think I like working at the center. Especially if we get to do this every Friday night and then have a whole weekend to be lazy.” 

“I think that can be arranged.” 

And just like that your Friday night tradition is established. It doesn’t matter if it was a good week or a bad one, every Friday night you head straight home from work to relax for a bit, order take out, and find a different Disney movie to watch. It’s quiet and simple, exactly what you want in your life, and you’re forever grateful that it’s what he wants too.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty@ladyemofhousestark@abswritesfandoms@rupestria @dark-night-sky-99

[sun-summoning]

Hi! Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering what happened to the fic the grad fad? I loved it but I can't seem to find it on FF. Thank you! :)

you know what i read this and had a moment of “wtf is the grad fad” followed by “it sounds SO FAMILIAR” then i looked through stuff on my computer and found a doc with that title that was last updated in 2013 and thought “oh god that’s when i graduated university wtf was this fic about???” i assume i deleted it off ffn back in the day bc i knew i’d never finish it.

anyway here’s all that i found:

-

Note: This is my last year of university and I’m actually quite sad, so this is mostly for my lawlz. But I promise I will have a plot.Warning(s): AU, going by my own university’s calendar Pairings: SasuSaku, NaruInoDisclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

-

SEPTEMBERi need a place to live

-

“Can I live with you?”

Sakura needed a home.

She was luckier than most people with her parents living just an hour and a half’s commute away from Konoha University, but she would rather pay rent every month than go through the two trains and two buses and twenty minute walk she spent her entire freshman year dealing with. She spent her second and third years living with Tenten, but that recently-graduated, totally lame, Judas loser decided to take the Next Step in her Relationship and Move In with her boyfriend, hence Sakura’s problem.

Sakura was homeless. Sort of.

Karin only raised an eyebrow at her before eyeing her one-bedroom apartment. There was a solarium, yes, but those doors were see-through and offered no privacy. “Seriously?”

But Sakura would not be moved. She nodded eagerly. “Honestly, I’d be down for a closet. Please? Lend me that room?”

“Fine.”

And so that was that.

Except it wasn’t.

It worked well enough, Sakura supposed. At the beginning, that is, when Sakura was still enjoying the remaining bits of frosh week and the constant keggers going on. On the first week of class—when all that happened was syllabi-reading and maybe an introductory lab or two that Sakura didn’t need—there were Mojito Mondays and Because I Freaking Feel Like it Tuesdays to go along with the traditional Thirsty Thursdays. For the first week of class, Sakura mostly came home to her glass room at Karin’s home in a lovely state of drunk or delirious.

But then she started coming home sober.

Second week struck and so did its readings upon readings upon readings. Sakura scrambled from the KU Bookstore to the shop for cheaper used books a few blocks away from the university where all the hipsters lived. She would then go to the printing press on the other side of the city for that course pack, and then to another printing press on the other side of the city for another course pack. Then she would settle down in the library with a chai tea latte and lemon poppy seed muffin and shut off her phone and get her readings done.

(Not that anyone was texting her, of course. Ino was basically ignoring the world and Naruto still felt like it was move-in time and Sakura knew for a fact he had a keg at his house and Sasuke and her basically didn’t talk unless they were forced to.)

In her second week of September, Sakura would come home extremely late, with aching shoulders and arms full of books.

In her second week of September, all Sakura would want to come home to was a cozy bed and ugly bunny slippers and Netflix. Instead, she came home to Karin’s bra on the sneakers Sakura left by the door and the beautifully permanent sight of Karin and Shikamaru doing the deed on the couch.

Sakura just sighed. “Guys, like, I eat my breakfast on that couch!”

They barely noticed her before Karin let out a squeak and they casually moved their canoodling over to her bedroom.

“Seriously?!” Sakura yelled, dropping her book bag and mourning the sight of the beloved Lazy Boy, forever tainted by Shikamaru’s naked ass, cute as it may have been.

Sakura plopped down on the carpet, sitting right in front of the recliner.

This wasn’t going to work.

-

“Can I live with you?”

Sakura twitched when she got no response. Ino had been like this all summer. She was in I’m-taking-my-LSAT-therefore-nothing-exists-but-these-LSAT-notes mode and essentially drowning everyone and everything. There was no time for double fisting the red sangria and the white sangria at Red Room after a long day of class, nor was there time to listen to Sakura propose potential research paper topics. Ino had quit her job and her social life in favour of studying, studying, studying.

“Ino?”

Ino had a pretty swanky place, actually – for a studio apartment, that is. But it was surprisingly large for a kitchen-living-room-bedroom hybrid monster. It even had a balcony!

“Yo! Blondie!”

Finally, Ino looked up. “What was that, Sakura?”

Sakura pouted.

They were at the coffee shop near the Bio labs on the west end of campus. Ino had only agreed to Sakura’s invitation when Sakura offered to buy her sleepless friend some coffee. Apparently the implied “you’ll have to listen to me when I speak” part of that deal went unnoticed, however. Great.

“Can I live with you?” Sakura repeated.

Ino didn’t miss a beat. “No.”

“What?” Sakura couldn’t help it. Her jaw literally dropped. She was ready to prepare some grand speech about friendship and bonds and love and all that jazz that Naruto would have been super proud of, but Ino waved her hand – granted, she looked more like she was trying to swat away some irritating bug.

“Sakura,” she said flatly, “consider the size of my apartment.”

“It’s fun-sized,” Sakura reasoned. “Super fun-sized.”

“No.”

“But I’m homeless!”

“You live like an hour away—”

“AND A HALF.”

“—you’ll manage.”

“But I’m homeless!” Sakura repeated pathetically, hoping that if she pouted Ino might have been moved.

But that was not the case. Ino’s eyes were already back on her binder of notes for her LSAT studying. “Nope.”

“You’re a heartless, wretched beast,” Sakura said. She gathered her things and made sure to grab the caramel macchiato she spent a grand four dollars on for some traitor. She stuck her tongue out when Ino let out an indignant cry for having her coffee stolen. “Sorry, I don’t buy drinks for jerks!”

“Just commute, you lazy baby!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU.”

-

“Can I live with you?”

Naruto didn’t look even remotely surprised to see Sakura on his front porch with a bright pink gym bag full of her clothes and a backpack that looked ready to burst at the seams. And he didn’t even want to think about how heavy that other bag pulling at her left arm was, considering all the textbooks sticking out of it.

Like the good friend he was, Naruto grabbed the bag of books and the bag of clothes.

“Come on,” he said, moving to the side so she could enter the house.

“You’re the best, Naruto!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Sakura had been to Naruto’s place many times. It was a house in the so-called “student ghetto” just off of campus with an open-concept main floor and a fair number of bedrooms. If Sakura remembered correctly, Naruto had the big room in the basement, Suigetsu called dibs on the attic, and Sasuke and Shikamaru had rooms on the second-level. But now that Neji had moved in with Tenten—

“Am I getting Neji’s old room?” Sakura asked.

Naruto nodded, guiding her up the stairs even though she already knew where to go. “Yeah, I figured you’d be here eventually.”

“What?” Sakura felt tears spring in her eyes. She couldn’t help it. She was tired and stressed and her shoulders were killing her. “You saved a room for me?” She was in awe of how sweet he was.

But Naruto just shrugged and looked away. Sakura saw the way his cheeks reddened though. “It’s not a big deal. We just didn’t bother looking for another guy. I had a feeling things wouldn’t work out at Karin’s when Shikamaru basically stopped coming home all of first week…”

Sakura still tackled him into a hug, forcing him to drop her bags. She pulled away and smiled. “You are literally the best, did you know that?”

He grinned back. “Obviously.” But a thought came to mind and his smile waned. “Um… there’s just one thing…”

“Yeah?” Sakura was too busy marvelling at the fact that her new room came with walls (and a bed and drawers and a closet and even a calendar) to notice his frown. “Don’t worry about rent. I got my job at the registrar’s office again so I’m good.”

“It’s not that.”

Sakura finally looked at him. “What is it?” She suddenly looked equally as frantic. “Oh.”

“Are you okay with living with your ex?”

“Obvously.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“I figured.”

“Meh.” Sakura shrugged. She took her bag from Naruto and opened it up to beginning the process of moving in all over again. “I’m kind of homeless, so I’ll make due. And you know how I am during school. I basically just live at campus during the year.”

Naruto laughed and ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry,” he told her, “we just have one more year of this crap, right?”

Sakura glanced at the calendar and nodded.

“Just one more year.”

-

OCTOBERi need reference letters

-

So it was October.

October came to mean a lot of things to Naruto: midterms, essays, Thanksgiving a.k.a. Turkey Day, pumpkin spice everything, breaking out the awesome orange scarf Sakura knitted for him years ago, pretty leaves, and so much more.

Now the boys didn’t usually maintain their house unless someone was coming to visit. Fine, the tiny front lawn would see a mowing every other week or so, and the backyard was only managed if there was going to be a party. And then the inside was divided that every man would take care of his own place, the kitchen would always be cleaned by whoever made whatever mess, and the bathroom would go through a weekly cycle of sorts. But things like the broom and the vacuum were only broken out for special occasions.

“Guys!”

In the living room, Sakura was sketching silly outfits on the bare bodies in her anatomy textbook in lieu of studying, while Naruto made his own efforts to procrastinate pretty obvious as he made a tower of all the novels and plays and poetry anthologies he had to read for the semester. So far, his stack was balancing at a rather noteworthy twenty-two. Shikamaru, on the other hand, was making paper balls with his notes and throwing them at Naruto’s tower.

They all looked up at Suigetsu’s frantic shout.

“What is it?” Sakura asked. She had the grace to look annoyed by the interruption to her ‘hard work.’

“Sasuke’s mom is here!”

Immediately, Naruto and Shikamaru rose, their eyes wide and their arms near flailing. Sakura raised an eyebrow when Naruto shrieked. His book tower had fallen over when he stood up so fast.

“Clean that up!” Suigetsu yelled, pointing.

Naruto anxiously did so by pushing all of the books under the couch. At the same time, Shikamaru was taking all the randomly strewn about mugs and plates and – oh god – beer bottles and hiding them in the video game drawer. Suigetsu was keeping a careful eye on the driveway from the window by the stairs.

Sakura could only frown. “What are you guys doing?”

“Sasuke’s mom is here,” Shikamaru pointed out.

Sakura looked at the boys like they were idiots and, for the most part, they returned the look. Suigetsu finally sighed. “Sakura, have you ever seen Sasuke’s mom?”

“Yes,” she said. “In fact, I—”

Naruto shushed her. “Sakura, haven’t you heard? Sasuke’s mom has got it going on!”

Sakura did not look amused, but that didn’t stop Naruto and the other boys from opening the door and yelling their hellos. They all ignored Sasuke’s knowing glare as they took his bags from him and all warmly greeted the lovely Mikoto Uchiha. They exchanged pleasantries and thanked Mikoto wholeheartedly when she graced them with a whole turkey for the house – her little Thanksgiving present to them.

“Oh, Mrs. Uchiha, you didn’t have to do that,” Suigetsu told her sweetly.

But the older woman just smiled and waved the matter off. “Oh, but you boys need to be properly fed!”

Sakura could only pray she had that kind of decency when she was older and sending her son off to live with his fellow cavemen. Sakura eyed Mikoto Uchiha’s beautiful cashmere sweater and her form fitting skirt and could actually kind of understand why her friends were all salivating like dogs. She suddenly felt incredibly insecure in her yoga pants and the sweater she ninety percent belonged to Shikamaru. God, she was such a mess, Sakura realized. At least she wasn’t wearing her UGGs…

Dammit.

“Sakura Haruno, is that you!”

Sakura blinked. “Huh?”

Finally, the boys got out of the way and Mikoto rushed over and hugged her. “Oh, darling!” Mikoto let go enough to look Sakura over and frown disapprovingly. “You’ve lost weight!” she pointed out gravely. “Why haven’t you been eating, missy? This better not be over some stupid boy, because let me tell you—”

Sakura flushed. “Nope!” she interrupted. “I just…” Sakura laughed awkwardly and took a step away from Mikoto. “I just, um, have been busy and haven’t really been sleeping properly…”

Mikoto immediately turned around to face the boys. “And why haven’t you all been making sure Sakura is eating correctly? Hm? Shikamaru? You’re the responsible one!”

Shikamaru froze for a moment with the attention on him. “Um.” He chuckled. “Well, I haven’t really been around either, Mrs. Uchiha. But I’ll definitely make sure our little Sakura eats three square meals a day.”

“Yes, you better!” Mikoto took her turkey out of Naruto’s hands and deposited it into Sakura’s despite the blond’s protests. She winked at Sakura. “Eat up, sweetie.”

Sakura smiled. “Thank you.”

Mikoto gave her son one last kiss on the cheek before saying her goodbyes to everyone. When she was finally gone, Naruto let out a low whistle and made some flattering but inappropriate comment that led to Sasuke punching him in the stomach and stomping away. Still wincing, Naruto hurriedly stole the turkey away from Sakura and brought it to the kitchen.

That was one last thing October meant to Naruto: Mikoto Uchiha sending over a whole turkey for their little house of broke students.

.

.

But the gesture of turkey-giving didn’t arouse the same happy feelings in Sakura. As Suigetsu thoughtfully took a bag of Sasuke’s on his way upstairs, Shikamaru volunteered to walk Mikoto to her car, and Naruto took the turkey for some “alone time,” Sakura went back to her anatomy textbook and suddenly felt incredibly lonely.

Sakura had spent Thanksgiving dinner with the Uchiha family once, back when she and Sasuke were still together. She got along with them all to the point that Mikoto would literally text Sakura at least every other day just to make sure she was okay or to talk. Ino thought that was weird, but Sakura justified things with that Ino had never been in a real relationship – not one that included bonding with your partner’s parent. And when Sasuke dumped Sakura, Mikoto immediately asked Sakura if she was okay. But Sakura soon began to distance herself from the woman, mostly out of propriety, and seeing her in person today made her feel horrible.

Sighing, Sakura picked up her mug of sangria and whined when she realized it was empty. She grudgingly went to the kitchen and took the bottle out of the fridge. After a moment of consideration, she decided to learn from past mistakes and drink from the bottle and skip the mug.

“Well done,” she told herself after a sip.

“Sakura, it’s ten in the morning.”

She joked and spun around. Sasuke was leaning against the counter with a cup of tea and judgemental frown.

“Um.” Sakura lowered the bottle and reconsidered her mug. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

He then took an economics textbook out of his backpack and went over to the couch, sitting beside her scrawled dresses and flower hats. She cringed, but he didn’t seem to notice her doodles. Sakura slowly made her way back to her book and sat as close to the edge as she could, at this point gulping down the sangria.

Seriously? Sakura thought. That was how he wanted to go about things? He wanted to ignore what happened three weeks ago that essentially set the shroud of awkward that hung over them whenever they saw each other in the kitchen or the hall or the living room?! What the actual fu—

Ugh.

When the silence became too much for her to concentrate in, she turned to Sasuke and found him already looking at her.

“How was your break?” she asked. Granted, KU didn’t really offer a “break” so much as one single day.

“Good.”

“What did you do?”

“Helped my mom cook,” Sasuke said.

Sakura grinned. “Since when do you cook?”

“Excuse you, but if I recall correctly, I’m not the one who set off the smoke alarm from boiling water.” Her eyes widened and he smirked.

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” Still blushing, she kicked him, but he only grabbed her ankle to steady her. “Hmph. Well, what did you cook?”

“Mashed potatoes.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and that’s just such a feat. Look at you Top Chef Wonder.” She giggled at her own not particularly funny joke and told herself it was way too early in the day to already be tipsy. But from what she could remember, Sasuke actually was a great cook. “Is that all you made?” she continued.

“I made a pie, too, actually,” he said. Then he pushed her leg off his lap and went back to the kitchen. The bounce of her foot on the cushion was what made her realize the Sasuke had actually been drawing nonsensical things on her calf andandand—

No. No, she told herself. This. Is not. Allowed.

Finally, he came back with a Tupperware and a fork, handing them to her.

“What is this?” she asked, drawing her legs in and sitting up straight.

“Pie.”

“Huh?”

“Pie,” he repeated. “I made pumpkin pie. It’s Itachi’s favourite and I remembered that it’s yours too so I brought a slice back for you.” Sasuke shrugged and all but buried himself in his economics textbook.

Sakura smiled at the gesture. “Thank you,” she mumbled, poking at the pie.

He glanced at her but saw her focused on the dessert. “You’re welcome,” he replied into his book.

And after finishing the slice, Sakura picked up her own book. The two sat on the couch for a few hours simply reading in a comfortable silence.

.

.

October also came to mean sucking up. October meant heading over to office hours (even the ones that started at 9AM) and making an impression and getting on your professor’s good side so that at the end of the semester, when they were determining Naruto’s participation grade, they would remember his bright hair and bright clothes at each and every lecture.

But this year, their final year, meant going to office hours would no longer just be about proposing separate essay topics or clarifying anything said in class.

This year meant reference letters.

Reference letters for grad school.

But those also meant office hours, which, with Naruto’s luck, meant 9AM with Dr. Kakashi Hatake – which actually kind of sort of meant 10AM considering the man was always late…

Still, that was early considering said hours were on a Friday.

“Let’s move, lazyass!”

“But I’m tired,” Naruto whined, lagging behind Sakura. “Can’t we just be death eaters?”

“No!”

“Or we can just be homeless,” he pointed out. They were on their way to the Humanities Building where Sakura was going solely as Naruto’s moral support while he asked for letters of recommendation. Naruto Uzumaki was going to graduate school, but… well, he was sort of too much of a wimp to approach his favourite professors alone. Likewise, Naruto may or may not have treated her to slash bribed her with a delicious lemon poppy seed muffin and chai tea latte for breakfast.

“I have worked too hard all these years to be homeless,” Sakura said between sips of her drink.

“Fine, not homeless, per se.” Nevertheless, Naruto continued along to the Humanities Building. He stopped the oblivious Sakura from walking into the doors, knowing that for whatever annoying reason, the automatic doors weren’t so automatic. He knew. He may or may not have walked into said doors before…

“Oh?”

“We can live in a box,” Naruto told her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes. “Just ask for your letters, Naruto.”

“I don’t know what to say!” But they were already in the elevator.

“You say ‘Hey, Kakashi, I really want to come back to KU for another year to do more readings and write more papers and lead more seminars yada yada yada.’ He’ll love it.” The sad thing was that Sakura wasn’t joking. She’d had Dr. Hatake in her first-year “Literature for our Time” course with Naruto and from her own visits and talks with the man, she’d come to know what he was like.

And well… Naruto looked like he was considering.

“Do you honestly think that would work?”

“I have full faith.”

She genuinely did.

Sakura herself had been going with the more formal approach of: “Dr. Whatever, would you be willing to write me a positive letter recommendation for X Med School?” Most of her professors were very familiar with her and her study habits and her amazing work, so Sakura didn’t actually need to put the operative “positive” in her requests, but it didn’t hurt to stay safe.

But with a professor like Kakashi, things would work out fine for Naruto.

They stood outside of Kakashi’s office and Sakura gave Naruto a pat on the back. “Do you have any idea what you’d want to research though?”

Naruto nodded. “Gothic literature!” he told her eagerly, looking ready to actually tell her more. “I’d like to look at the late eighteenth century and then maybe at the revival of Gothic literature in contemporary times. I mean, Gothic work is just so prevalent nowadays and—”

“Don’t tell me this stuff,” Sakura interrupted. She pointed to Kakashi’s open door. “Tell him!”

“Oh, right…” Naruto laughed awkwardly. “Okay. I can do this.”

“You can do this.”

“I can!”

“You can!”

“…I CAN’T.”

Fed up, Sakura pushed him into Kakashi’s office.

.

.

“Okay, so that went better than expected.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. “I told you.”

“Yeah, I know…” Naruto shrugged. “The entire asking-thing is just… nerve-wracking, I suppose.”

The two were at one of their favourite off campus haunts that served Sakura’s favourite sangria and made some of the greatest ramen Naruto had ever tasted. Sure, it was only noon, but it was never to early for wine and whining – at least, that was Sakura’s philosophy. And well, it had served her well for the past three years so…

Besides, it was Friday. Why not get nice and day drunk?

“So what schools are you applying to?” she asked Naruto.

“KU, of course,” Naruto listed through a grimace. “But… I don’t think I’ll get in. KU is so evil, Sakura-chan!”

She nodded. “Oh, I know.” While completing an undergraduate degree at KU was a magical feat in their humble opinions, to complete one and be accepted into the university’s graduate programs would be hard considering the CGPAs most KU students usually escaped with. While Sakura knew she wouldn’t have any problems, she did know that Naruto might. “Where else?”

“Not sure.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow. “What? Naruto, don’t just apply to one grad school if you’re set on doing your Master’s!”

“You don’t think I can get in?”

Sakura sighed. “It’s not like that,” she said, “it’s just that these are competitive programs. You should at least apply to more than one. I mean, what would you do if you didn’t get into KU?”

“…become a death eater?”

“You are so—so—” She sighed again and finished off her sangria. She poured another glass and sipped on that. “You’re like Ino.”

“What? I don’t like Ino!”

“Huh?” Sakura laughed. “No, I said you’re like her, not that you like her. That’d be weird.” In her semi-drunken state that was starting to become Sakura’s default state, she missed the red on Naruto’s cheeks.

“Well, how is Ino, anyway? I haven’t seen we had that kegger in September.” Both of them cringed, remembering their own personal awkward mistakes from that night. Naruto made a face. “Yeah. Ino.”

But Sakura snorted. “Who’s Ino? Oh! Did you mean Ino, the girl who’s apparently my bestie?” Sakura looked a little bit bitter. Maybe she was. Maybe she’s been in dire need of a girlfriend for the past two months but Ino hasn’t really been that great of a friend. “Yeah, she’s studying. She basically won’t have any human contact aside from lectures until she takes her LSATs in December.”

“I see.” Naruto noticed the sad look on Sakura’s face and wasn’t sure if she wanted a serious attempt at comfort or some kind of joke. “Well…” Naruto shrugged. “At least she has plans?”

“Yeah,” Sakura said with a nod. “I guess I just miss her.”

“What law schools will she apply to?”

“I DON’T EVEN KNOW THAT!” Sakura yelled. Her face crumpled and she took a long swig of her drink. “I miss her, Naruto. I know I’m being irrational and that my period is probably coming—”

“Thank you.”

“—but I mean it’s like she just doesn’t care about anyone right now!” Sakura refilled her glass and finished that in one go. Naruto subtly ordered another pitcher and Sakura continued: “I mean, I’m not trying to be clingy. I get it. She has stuff to do. But like, I’m living with Sasuke! HOW HAS SHE NOT EVEN ASKED ME IF THAT IS REMOTELY OKAY?!”

“Huh?” Naruto blinked. “I thought you said that you were okay with that… Sort of.”

“I am!”

“What?” God. Why were women so confusing?!

“I don’t care about Sasuke, Naruto!” Sakura looked at him like he was the one acting crazy. “What I’m saying is that Ino—my Ino—would have texted me the first night asking if I reacquainted myself with Sasuke, followed by an unnecessary amount of wink-faces! Current Ino responds to my text messages days late and never wants to hang out. Like I’m not even allowed to go to the library with her because she thinks I’ll distract her!”

“…you kind of are a huge distraction.” Which she was. As surprising as it was, Sakura was actually the one between the two of them that could be found not working (but still, unfairly enough, maintaining a 4.0 CGPA, so like what the hell).

“NOT THE POINT.”

Their next pitcher arrived and Sakura’s face lit up. “I’m just sad, I guess,” she admitted forlornly. “Or tired. A bit of both.” She sighed and suddenly looked a bit bashful. “I’m sorry. I’ve been ranting all this time. How are you and Sasuke doing?”

Naruto levelled her with a flat stare. “You make us sound like a couple.”

“Aren’t you?”

“SAKURA-CHAN!”

She giggled and Naruto let her. Mocking his “bromance” with Sasuke was always something that could make Sakura smile so he let it go. But suddenly the smile fell and she adopted a serious look. A bad serious look.

“Hey!” she yelled, grabbing his hand on the table. “Are you single?”

Naruto felt very, very uncomfortable with her hand on his. “What?”

“I have this friend,” she clarified. “She’s seen you in a lot of my photos and has probably stalked you on every possible social network. She thinks you’re really good-looking. She’s a super sweet girl and I think the two of you would hit it off really well.”

“Are you…” The words felt weird coming out of his mouth. “Are you trying to set me up?”

“No. Maybe. Yes.”

“What?” Naruto laughed at the mere idea. “What’s her name?”

“Hinata Hyuuga. Really smart, really sweet, really pretty. You’d like her.” Sakura pulled out her phone and logged into her Facebook to find the girl’s profile. She was about to show Naruto a picture but he covered the phone and placed it face-down on the table. “What?”

“I trust your judgement.”

Sakura blinked, utterly astonished. “So… you’ll go on a date with her?”

Musing over all the nothing that had been going on his life as of late, Naruto nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go on a date with her.”

-

NOVEMBERi need to go to sleep

-

November was the worst. November was when you got back your midterms or assignments, cried, rechecked said midterms or assignments, cried again, and then drowned your sorrows in your alcoholic beverage of choice.

For Naruto that was beer.

And as Naruto whined over the grade he got on the paper he wrote the morning it was due, Sakura rubbed his back with one hand and scrolled through the Recently Added section of Netflix.

“It could be worse,” Sakura said.

“How could it have been worse?” Naruto asked her, his eyes still trained on the bolded 72 at the bottom of the page.

“Naruto, a 72 by KU standards is actually pretty damn good!”

“Oh, shut up Miss 4.0. Leave me alone. Leave me to wallow in my sorrow and beer. There is nothing left for me. Alas, woe is me!”

Sasuke, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as comforting. “Listen, dumbass. You passed. Passing is good, remember? You’re fine.”

“PASSING ISN’T ENOUGH FOR GRAD SCHOOL, SASUKE.”

He sat down beside Sakura, leaving her between the two boys. He handed her a mug of sangria and passed a brand new beer over to Naruto, letting him drink it between awkward whining noises that mimicked some sort of dying animal. Sakura looked ready to say some more words of consolation but Sasuke shook his head, signalling for her to stop. “Leave him be,” Sasuke said. “He’s always like this when he gets back a grade.”

“I know but…” Sakura glanced at Naruto. “He looks so pitiful.”

“I AM LITERALLY RIGHT BESIDE YOU, SAKURA-CHAN.” Naruto sat up straight, letting the blanket he’d wrapped himself in fall back a little. He stole the remote away from her and began to look through the files of movies and shows from Suigetsu’s hard drive that they had connected to the television. “My life is over.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Your life isn’t over.”

“It is.”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“Listen, Princess,” Naruto hissed, now glaring at Sasuke. “Not all of us have names that all but grant entry into programs and internships and all those other pretty things.”

Sasuke took offence to that. “I still need to maintain a good GPA to get in, Naruto. My name isn’t everything.”

Naruto didn’t seem to have any proper response to go with that so he simply stood up, tightened his burrito of a blanket, and waddled away. He came back a few seconds later to grab his beer, but still gave Sasuke and Sakura one last look of contempt before leaving.

“Such a baby,” Sakura mumbled when he was gone.

---

ALRIGHT AND THAT IS WHERE IT ENDED. i did find this though. i assume it was supposed to be part of the november chapter, which i never finished:

“Oh,” she said, understanding his look of awkwardness. She rolled her eyes. “No, this isn’t a gift with some meaning behind it, Sasuke. I mean, you made me pie, remember? It’s not like it had some implied Sakura-you-goddess-please-take-my-unworthy-self-back between the bites, right?” When he failed to reply, Sakura only frowned before shrugging the matter off. “The point is, this is a gift for you from me, Sakura the Friend.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Friend?”

She nodded. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?” She preferred ‘friends’ to ‘two people stuck being around each other despite lingering awkwardness simply because they had way too many mutual friends.’ “Sasuke?”

“Yeah,” he eventually replied. “We’re friends.”

Sakura grinned and patted the tablet. “Then accept my gift, friend.” She winked, emphasizing the word weirdly.

“Okay, don’t ever do that again.”

and then this the outline:

December: i need to study

Go sledding at the university 

Have a snowball fight on the field 

Everyone goes out to celebrate after Ino’s LSAT and get unbelievably drunk 

Sasuke and Sakura have gotten back together, which Naruto knows but doesn’t call them on 

Goes to his house for Christmas because her parents are travelling

Ino and Naruto hang out 

NYE party at the house 

Ends with Sakura checking her KU email and realizing there is a problem with her potential graduation

January: i need another vacation

Sakura ends up being in a Jane Austen course with Naruto because she was told she needed a humanities credit

February: i need to fix my habits

Go on a road trip for Reading Week

Come home Sunday night and scramble

March: i just need to graduate

Naruto and Sakura discuss their Big Boy/Girl jobs and the likeliness of them 

Naruto reveals that he’s seriously dating Ino 

Sakura is happy for him and tells him about Sasuke 

“I know. It’s not hard to tell. Why do you think rent isn’t so bad in that house? The walls are paper thin, you bitch.”

Dread paying back student loans 

Sakura tells him she’s nervous because Sasuke is studying abroad next year whereas Sakura’s dream school is KU’s med school – will they break up again 

Doesn’t tell him she plans to backpack for the year

“Do you realize this is like… the last time?”

April: i need to get in

Acceptance letters

May: i need my damn grades

Go on another road trip to unwind

June: i need to go back

Convocation

and i found this, which i think is meant to be in the january chapter:

“There is something very, very wrong with a situation if you are taking a class to bum notes off of Naruto.”

Sakura merely laughed as she spread out some sheets of paper and pretended to read them. She still had another two hours of work and she wasn’t particularly inclined to, well, work, and Tenten—the girl she shared the front desk with—didn’t really care whether she did anything or not.

“I know that sounded really bad,” Sakura said, “but I just need a Humanities credit.”

“Still!” Tenten urged, not even looking away from her computer screen. “Naruto.”

“He’s not as dumb as everyone thinks he is, you know.”

Tenten considered this before shrugging. “I suppose. He has been at KU for the past four years and is even graduating on time.”

“Exactly.” Sakura moved onto the mug of pens on her desk, testing each one to see which still had ink. “And he’s actually really good at Lit courses.”

“He should be,” Tenten replied with a snort. “I mean, that is what he’s specializing in.” Her chair squeaked when she leaned back and pushed away from her desk to roll over near Sakura. Their desk was L-shaped with each of them on one side. “What course is it again?” she asked. But being the fidgety person that she was, Tenten moved to put away some student files. She climbed onto the stool and alphabetizing. “It was something cheesy.”

“Austen and Her Contemporaries.” Sakura hadn’t gotten past her first word before Tenten burst out into giggles. She couldn’t help but smirk when another thought came to mind. “Want to know something even better?”

Tenten gave Sakura her full attention. “Um, obviously.”

“Sasuke’s taking it with us too.”

oh man.

thank you for asking about this fic because i had absolutely no recollection of it but as i read all these docs, i realized how trashy i was in undergrad. and how frightened i was of graduating! just reading this makes me remember how afraid of growing up i used to be -- of not being a student and having to get a job and running out of time. but man i’ve been so much happier since then. the fear of “running out of time” is always around but i also have lost the will to care about people and/or things as the years have gone by. 

ok sorry that totally wasn’t your question lmao. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE ROLLERCOASTER OF THAT OUTLINE. 

how did it end? well, everyone graduated. presumably everyone got into the post-grad programs of their dreams (although funding??). the naruto arc was totally based on me in my 4th year and his plans are NOT where my future went lmao. although to be clear, future him is definitely satisfied with where his life took him. ss and ni double dated happily ever after. maybe. probably.

[sneakysnakediet-blog]

Day 0: The Snake Diet Review - Death Fast

I’m fat. I’ve been fat for a long time. I’m a 5′2″, 45-year-old fat female. I love soda, potatoes, pasta, rice and bread. Anything white, really. I hate water.

I’m also fairly healthy - so far normal BP, normal sugar, no cancer.

I have had plantar fasciitis (which means I stretched out my ligaments because I have too much weight on my little feet) and do get gallbladder twinges when I overdo on fat, but Apple Cider Vinegar (ACV) takes care of that in 20 minutes. I thought I wanted a baby but my husband and I never got pregnant on our own and IVF at my weight is unrealistic. So, I’ve just told myself I don’t really want one. But, even if I do want a kid, that choice is off the table right now.

I realize I have been lucky and am playing with fire - my family history reads like the manual to a genetic time-bomb, filled with cancer and heart disease. 

I have tried many diets over the years but have never been able to stick to one. I’ve tried (chronologically): low-fat, low-carb, no-carb, carnivore, Keto, water fast, OMAD, Snake Juice water fast, dry fast. 

I have zero will power. I’m lazy. I procrastinate - “I can always start tomorrow” is one of my favorite things to tell myself. I am also someone who needs instant gratification to stay interested - putting in the work now for a long-term payoff blows. Also, did I mention that my husband loves big women? So, no motivation there. I also avoid cameras and mirrors - until my friend took photos of me earlier today I had no idea I looked this bad. I knew it was bad, but this bad? Nope.

I live with other people who eat. They can’t help it and aren’t sorry for it (bastards!).  I also work from home and my husband does not. Therefore, he expects me to shop for and cook dinner (I know that’s not unreasonable on his part and I’m also a really good cook). It’s hard to cook for others when you are dieting or fasting. Unfortunately, I’m easily thrown off course by (very mild, really) peer pressure such as  “eat this now and jump right back on the horse tomorrow.” Or, “we are taking Sam out for his birthday Saturday - why don’t you wait and start on Sunday?” I also travel for work - I tell myself it is impossible to diet on the road. I am a great listener to all of these cop-outs.

This time I am trying the Snake Diet, death fast style. And this time feels different. I feel like there is nothing left to learn and I have discovered the fastest way to loose weight without outside intervention (or much effort, if I’m going to be honest - I’m still lazy and that won’t change).

The inventor of the Snake Diet, Cole Robinson, is a foul-mouth Canadian tyrant whose sole purpose in life is to help people stop being fat. His YouTube channel is a trip and not for the thin-skinned.

I won’t bore you with the details of the Snake Diet (you need to watch his videos!) but I will summarize his theory for you (or the part of his theory I have adopted) - our bodies are expert at extracting water and energy from fat cells. Thus, the more fat you have, the less external food and water you need (although you do need external salt and potassium to stay coherent and energized - this is called “snake juice” ). 

There is a catch, however. This is an all-or-nothing game. Our bodies will provide adequate amounts of food and water by breaking down fat cells (during ketosis) but only if it truly believes there is no external food or water on the horizon. This is a critical point to understand - if you simply reduce your food intake (like low fat or low carb) your body will not throw the fat burning switch to the full “on” position and it will eventually become dehydrated and starved, waiting for the meagre amounts you are ingesting. You need to FAST. And plain water fasts don’t work either - we need to supplement with salt and potassium as the fat cells do not contain enough electrolytes to keep us going. 

I have tried the Snake Juice fast (water fast with electrolytes) and the dry fast (4 days with no food or water). Dry fasts make the body break down fat more quickly to get to the life-saving water - this was easy to see on the scale. I’m now adding “death” to the mix - I will be doing dry fasts (with occasional electrolyte replenishment) AND activities designed to make me sweat. If your body breaks down x amount of fat cells to get you enough water during a sedentary day, it needs to break down x PLUS y on a day where you also do some slow cardio or dry sauna. 

In order to get Cole to be your coach, you have to post full-frontal photos of yourself (including your face) AND attach your name to them. His position is that you will not lose weight without taking this step. My aim is to prove him wrong - I want to encourage others but do not want to further humiliate myself in the process. It’s already humiliating enough looking like this. 

Based on past experience, the biggest issue is going to be bad breath and a constant rotten taste in my mouth. When I’m face-to-face with other humans I may have to suck on a tic-tac (my best friend has no sense of smell so she can be my “person”- my husband smells everything so I wish him luck). Other than that, no food and only enough water to ingest my salts, until my body tells me I need to re-feed/hydrate (but no more than 25% of what I have already lost), rinse and repeat.  

Tomorrow I will post the photos from today and my starting weight (you didn’t really think I’d start today, did you??). Each day I will post am weight, food/water/salts consumed (if any), activity, pm weight and overall observations. 

Thank you, Cole Robinson. You have inspired me to change my life in the most drastic and dramatic fashion.

Let’s Begin!

[minnuet-archive]

I’m Sorry, Logan

(I'm not talking about Logan Sanders, but I do have a character named Logan that’s based loosely off of him. TW: Suicide)

I wake up to my alarm blaring in my ears. My eyelids refuse to lift and the world is a blurry mess.  I stumbled into my uniform, the alarm still blaring.  Eventually my patience ran out and I shut off the alarm. My backpack is lying in the corner and I shove it on. I grab a granola bar from the pantry and run to the school bus that’s already parked outside.  

I jump into the bus. I walk down the aisle and all of the noise, ranging from random conversation to yelling and fighting, fill my ears and overwhelm my mind. I almost want to plug my ears, but someone’s bound to take offense. As I sit down in a seat next to the seemingly quietest kids, the horrible stench of  7 year old raisins with a generous side of sweaty gym socks permeates my nose.  I hate the bus. I decide to try to space out.

When I arrive at the school, I went into the girl’s bathroom and wait until everyone had left the bathroom. I look really weird waiting for people to leave, and I kind of care. I kind of don’t though. Once everyone had gone, I slipped out of my catholic school uniform skirt and into pants.

My mother had refused to get me anything but the “girl’s” uniform which consisted of a tight, long skirt and a blouse. I hear the bell and run to class. I burst into the classroom and slide into my seat directly after my name is called.

“Late.” I  groan and get out my homework. Why must it be me?

Vanessa and her friends snicker across the classroom. “Hey look, the plant’s here.”

My ears burned and I clenched my teeth. Those assholes. I’m not a plant. “My name’s El-” My eyes widen as I catch myself. “-Ellie.”

Vanessa gasps overdramatically and then says, “It can talk?!”

I don’t respond and give her what she wants, but it takes all of my strength not to. God, how am I so stupid? I don’t care if I’m using the Lord’s name in vain. I already let them know I was asexual! And if I let it slip? My name’s Elliott. I could just imagine the crap they’d do and say to me. What would I tell them? Oh yeah, by the way, I’m pangender. That would totally work.

I take deep breaths. I look at the teacher and zoning out is easy for me. The lunch bell rings after a while and I walk towards the courtyard, finding one of the trees in the corner that no one ever sat by. It’s kind of sad and droopy, just like me.

“Hey Elliott!” I flinch at the noise. He smiles and sits down next to me.

I relax and say, “Hey Logan. How was the class?”

“How was class? Class was bull crap,” I crack a smile and when I do, he adds “as always. I love how you did your hair today. It’s pretty.”

As I eat my brought-from-home lunch, I look at him and blush. He’s way too cute. I now turn even redder and look away as I shove my sandwich farther into my mouth. Too far. The lunch bell rings after a few minutes. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Logan. Bye!”

He high fives me and starts walking towards his classroom. I walk towards mine. After Mr. Simon takes role call and I answer one question, I figure I’m safe and promptly space out for the rest of the day.

The bell rings and right as I’m about to walk out of the door, I heard Mr. Simon say, “Eleanor, may I speak to you?” A collective ‘oooh, you’re in trouble’ type sound comes from what’s remaining of the class as I walk up to his desk.

“Can I help you Mr. Simon?”

“Do you remember the dress code guidelines we went over at the beginning of the year?”

I start to panic. “Uh, yeah.”

“Then you remember that girls are to wear skirts and a blouse and that boys are to wear a button down and pants.”

I mutter that I might remember something like that. “Why can’t I wear pants? I’m not wearing anything completely out of school uniform.”

“Yes, but we have a strict dress code and you, as a girl,” I flinch at the word girl. Of course, I can’t correct him. “are to wear a skirt. If you come to school tomorrow wearing pants, I’ll have you change back into a skirt, confiscate the pants, and then call your parents.”

I nodded my head as if I understand, which I don’t, and then walk out of the classroom. I know he hates me, but I had no clue he would go to these lengths to get me in trouble. I really don’t want to wear a skirt and that was only the first time I wore pants. On the other hand, I don’t want them to get taken away because I had to save up for months to get them and I don’t want to have to deal with my parents.

As I walk home, I approach the entrance to the Golden Gate Bridge and smile. It’s so beautiful. Late afternoon fog is quite unusual this time of year and most people don’t like it, but I’m secretly happy about it. Walking the bridge is a really nice way to clear your mind in the morning. The breeze makes my clothes flow in the wind. The smell of salt water in the air fills my nose as I approach one end of the bridge.  

I start to cross the bridge and into the fog. It’s peaceful and the moist air feels cool and nice against my skin.

After around 45 minutes, I come out on the other side of the bridge. I continue to walk towards my house.

I can’t wait to lay down on the couch and not worry about homework.  Not because I finished it, but because I’m a procrastinator.

I turn down my street and see my house. As I approach it, I realize that my house has been egged. I see a note on the door and run up and grab it. Leave our school, you faggot. You don’t belong here.

Vanessa, her boyfriend, and their asshole friends were right about the last part. I don’t belong here. I wish I could leave, but it isn’t exactly possible. I rip up the note and look up at the eggs that are covering my home.

Ugh, I don’t want to clean this up… but my parents will ask why it happened if I don’t. Plus, they’ll make me do it anyway. I sigh as I slowly walk inside to grab a mop and some other cleaning supplies.

I open the closet door and grab everything I think I might need. I’ve never cleaned up eggs, so I’m just guessing.

I walk back outside and start to wipe the door with a random rag that I found. Once I finish cleaning everything that I can reach from the ground, I place all my supplies on the roof overhang. I awkwardly climb onto the overhang. P

I got on my knees shakily and started to clean the roof. Damn, could these kids throw. It takes what seems like years, but was really a couple hours to finish cleaning the house.

I take a risk and jump from the overhang. I didn’t break any bones! Yay!  I grab all the cleaning supplies and shove them in a closet as I walk to my room. I get changed into some paint stained jeans and a band t-shirt that my parents begrudgingly bought me for Christmas.

I walk back out and throw myself on the couch. I log into an app that’s similar to tumblr except not as widely known. It has less asshole-ish people. I open a chat with one of my best friends,  AchillesWasTheOriginalGay™ also known as Bentley or Ben. Sometimes I call him Benjamin because he hates when people assume his name.

Me: What’s up, Benjamin?

He responds almost immediately.

Ben: You’re an ass. But not much. You?

Me: House got egged. Assholes at school.

Ben: Oof that sucks, dude.

Ben: Hey I gtg do homework. Talk later?

Me: Sure.

I turn off my phone and put it down. I hear my mom pull up so I sit up and take out my school binder. I place my homework from yesterday in front of me so I look like I’ve been doing homework since the second I got home.

Directly after I finished setting up my fake homework station, she walked in. “Hey, mom!” No, too cheery. Calm down.

She smiles happily, “Hi, Ellie!” I cringe at my old name, but she didn’t seem to notice my overly excited greeting. “How was your day?” My little sister, Adia follows her in and then runs to our room.

I consider telling her that it wasn’t great for a second but decide against it, because she’d just ask questions. “It was good. Yours?”

“It was fine. Busy as always.” I give her a knowing nod and then I see her smile slowly fade. I tilt my head in confusion. “What did I tell you about those jeans? You can only wear them when you’re painting. They’re disgusting and baggy. Wear some nice tights next time.”

I roll my eyes and she scoffs as she walks into the kitchen. She puts her bags down. Adia runs back out of our room with a stuffed animal in her hands and she sits down next to me.

“Hi Adia. Did you have fun at school today?”

”Yeah!! I played with Sammy.”

“That’s fun.” She smiles proudly as if having a friend was something to be proud of, which in my case, is true, but in her case, not so much. She has lots of friends.

I’m contemplating this when I hear my mom start to reheat leftovers from last night. She slaps all of the food on three plates and we trudge over to the table and sit down.

My mom turns on the T.V. and we watch a sitcom as we shovel food into our faces. Eventually, the episode ends. We're too lazy to change the channel, so we leave it.

My mom is seated facing the screen and I watch her chuckle. I turn to the T.V. and freeze. It's a pride parade. All of a sudden I hear Adia’s excited voice.

“Ooooh! Rainbows!” I look at her and smile a little bit. She doesn’t even know. Sometimes I wish I don’t know about LGBTQ+.

“Those rainbows are for gay people.” My mom says gay as if it’s the worst thing you can be.

Mom continues, “You don’t want to be gay. Being gay is bad. You’ll go to hell if you’re gay.”

Now she just looked confused. “Why is it bad?”

“Because a man is supposed to be with a woman. That’s how God created us.” Mom says.

I finish eating my food as fast as I can to escape this horrible conversation and then interrupt. “Can I be excused? I’m getting tired.”

Before my mom can respond, my father swings open the front door.

This time, it’s not just me who’s frozen. He’s holding a beer bottle. His tie is loose. The top button of his shirt is unbuttoned and it’s stained.

What makes it most obvious that it’s happened again is his eyes. They’re huge. And not in the caring way.

He smiles goofily and stares at Adia and I. “No hug? No ‘Hi daddy!’ or ‘Thanks for working your ASS off every day to provide for us’ ?”

My first instinct is to pull Adia closer to me and step one foot in front of her. My second instinct is to throw something at him so we can all run.

I hold back. Mom’s too close to dad. She would never be able to run away in time. He could hit her. Even break a bottle over her head and kill her. She’s not a good person, but she doesn’t deserve that.

“Go. To your rooms. Now.” I turn to my mom in utter surprise.

“But mom-“

“GO. NOW.”

I grab Adia and make sure she’s safe and locked in her room before running to mine. I press my ear against the door because I might be able to get an idea of what’s happening. I can’t hear anything.

I slump down and hang my head in my hands. Holy christ, what is wrong with my family?? Why doesn’t she just kick him out when he’s hungover? Why don’t WE leave?

I can't deal with this.

I'm sobbing now. I clench my teeth to trap the noise in my mouth.

Over the course of a few minutes, I draw myself up onto my knees and then stand up, walking over to sit down at my desk and start to scribble words that seem right on a paper. After a minute of writing, I reread it. It's not good enough. I crumple up the piece of paper and throw it in the trash.

I hug my knees tightly, trying not to make any form of sound. My breathing slows back to normal the longer to sit there and I grab another piece of paper. I start to write once again, this time neater.

I wake up the same way as yesterday. I put on my pants and blouse. I don’t care if Mr. Simon tries to force me to wear a skirt. I’m not taking any bullcrap on my last day of school. And life.

I walk onto the bus and don’t even pay any attention to the kids that are already on it. I hear a kid yell “Get off, dyke!” and I resist flipping him off… well, I try to resist flipping him off.

   I take my time walking into the classroom and I sit next to Logan. A kid comes up to me.

“You’re sitting in my seat.”

“Yeah. I know. My seat’s over there. Feel free to take it.” He looks as if he’s about to say something more, but he turns to walk towards my actual seat.

   Logan looks at me. I wonder if he knows something off. That taking some other kid’s seat isn’t something I’d normally do.

   If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Hey. How was your day?” He laughs and then adds, “Holy crap that was such a mom question.”

   I snort and answer, “Oh my god, you’re right. But it was good. I’m tired as heck though.”

   “No kidding.” I grin at him as Mr. Simon looks at us again. I don’t really pay attention in math. I just talk to Logan. It’s relaxing to not have to care. To not have to worry about the consequences to my actions.

   When we walk to lunch, I start complaining to Logan about how much of the day we have left.

   “Uhh, you know that we have an early day, right?”

   “Oh! I do now.” He chuckles and smiles. I feel my cheeks get a little bit warm. He starts to talk about some fandom of his and I try my hardest to pay attention.

   I don’t really know what triggers this, although I have an idea, but I realize something. I’ve never kissed someone. Ok, this needs to change. Dying a virgin is one thing, but never having kissed someone? That’s a whole other level of sad. I feel weird thinking this, but I know exactly who I want to be my first and last kiss.

   He’s about to start another thought, but I interrupt him. I don’t care. “You’re amazing.”

   He looks at me as if I said the strangest thing that could possible said. “I mean it. You’re always there for me and you talk to me about things we like. I feel I don’t thank you enough for that.”

   He still looks weirded out but smiles warmly. “Right back at you,” he responds as he fidgets with his hands and looks down at his shoes. I gesture for him to continue and, without hesitation, he does.

   Logan sighs and packs up his lunch as the bell rings.

“Hey, will you walk home with me? I know you normally hang out here for a while but I want to talk to you.” I know this is a risk.

   Just like before, he doesn’t say anything, but now I’m sure that we both know something’s wrong. “Yeah, of course.”

   We grab our stuff and we start walking. He starts walking faster and gets ahead. This is not acceptable.

   I break into a full sprint and he starts to chase me. We’re laughing so hard we can barely breathe. When we reach the bridge, were both out of breath. We bend over and start panting like dogs on a hot day.

   I break into a full sprint and he starts to chase me. We're laughing so hard we can barely breathe. When we reach the bridge, were both out of breath. We bend over and start panting like dogs on a hot day.

I stand up straight again and look at him. His face is glowing and his brown eyes are big and happy. He runs his hand through his slicked back (with both gel and sweat) hair and adjusts his glasses. He even tightens his tie. What a dork.

I know this is the moment. I move closer to him and pull his tie towards me with one arm and put the other around him as I kiss him.

The salty air blows through my hair and I feel on top of the world. After a couple of seconds, I step away. He looks confused. He wasn't ok with it. Oh god, what have I done? I'm about to keep running down the bridge when he hugs me.

This time, I'm the unprepared one. After a minute, he lets go and slides his hand into mine. We continue walking across the bridge. There's nothing we need to say and it feels amazing.

We don't have to explain ourselves. We can just walk quietly together. And it's not awkward.

   My happiness fades away as I realize this is the first and last time I’ll be able to do this. I couldn’t change my mind if I wanted to. I already taped the note on to his backpack when he hugged me. This has to be the last time. Nothing good can last forever. Nothing can last forever.

   We reach the other side. “Goodbye, Logan.”

   He laughs. “You say it like this is the last time I’ll ever see you. This is just goodbye for now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   I feel my heart shatter a little bit more than it already had but I cover it up with a soft smile. “Yeah. It’s just goodbye for now.” He leans in and kisses my cheek and then whirls around.

   He starts to walk towards his house. I turn towards the water.

Tears spill silently down my face. I put my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs. I want to run to Logan and scream his name, but I can’t. This has to be done alone.

I lift one foot onto the railing and then the other. This is it.

One last tear slips down my face as I whisper raspily, “I’m sorry, Logan.” I know it will be peaceful. A quiet ending. Not that I deserve one, but I guess it’s a favor to myself. I let go of the pole that I had been holding onto.

And then I’m falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Gone.

[xoxoendoh]

A Prickly Pair

Prompt: Temari Week / Month 2018, Day 1: Hourglass ⏳ (Sorry I’m late!)

Summary: Shika tries his damnedest to ensure Tema’s first birthday they spend together is perfect…but life has a way of turning the best intentions upside-down. ;) Ninja-verse + all the Naruto crew!

Also, if my god-awful 🌵 pun of a title didn't give it away, lemme just say this: prepare yourself for a long fic with major fluff and cracky humor! 

Rating: T; colorful language, birthday booze, some suggestive themes 😏 There are two f-bombs—two!—but they are well-deserved, so I'm leaving this fic as T.

Soundtrack: “Magic in the Hamptons” by Social House (ft. Lil Yachty)—it's so damn catchy!

Also: Hanakotoba is the art of conveying messages / sentiments through flowers. For example, you might send yellow camellias to a SO who's been away on business as a way of conveying "longing." 💐

Read on FF.net here + this will have a Part II / continuation...soon-ish!

Shikamaru knew he was in trouble. One way or another, he knew he was going to have his ass handed to him. As that notion wasn’t exactly incentivizing, ...his lazy ass had procrastinated: now he had one day.

“What a drag…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, both elbows resting on his thighs.

If there was one thing he knew about the other troublesome women in his life—his mother, Ino, Sakura, even the Godaime—it was that their birthdays might as well have been national holidays.

But if he did what his troublesome woman claimed she wanted, he’d literally be doing nothing. For her birthday.

When he’d seen Temari last month, he had manned the hell up. He’d gritted his teeth, grumbled out of the corner of his mouth, and eventually inquired about her looming birthday. Her response, of course, had been less than helpful. She’d crossed her arms in a huff and flicked her blonde head in the opposite direction. He couldn’t see her face, but he heard her loud and clear: “Shikamaru, you idiot. It’s just a birthday. Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay?”

Easier said than done, you impossible woman! he thought, shaking his head.

Because what if she was just saying that? What if she wanted the whole dog and pony show and he was just supposed to know? What if she was playing at one of those stupid female mind games?

Even worse, this wasn’t just any birthday. Oh, no. Of course not!

This year, she’d be stuck in Konoha for the next Chunin Exams planning conference—far away from her family and working on official Suna business. On top of that, this would be their first ‘big event’ or ‘anniversary’ or ‘milestone’—or whatever the hell it was birthdays actually were!—since they became a couple. It had only been three months since they’d made it official, …and that feat had been a special sort of excruciating in itself.

At the memory, Shikamaru face-planted into his folded arms, a feeble effort to hide from the lingering embarrassment. Taking her off the market should’ve been the hardest part! How the hell was he supposed to know it only got more confusing from there?

Because what if she really wasn’t big on birthdays? What if he wrecked it by going all out? Did she want it to be just the two of them? Did she want to pretend birthdays didn’t exist?

“Damn it, I’m hopeless with this stuff…” he grumbled into his elbow, before letting out a long groan. “I’m so screwed, I should have just sent word to her brothers and asked!” He felt a drop of sweat bead under his ear and trickle down.

Too late for that now, genius.

But he was a genius, and there had to be a way to not screw this up! He couldn’t afford to, not so early on in the relationship, not when he didn’t have enough—or any—romantic capital stockpiled to make up for it! But no matter how many different scenarios he ran through, they all played out the same way—painfully. He could see it all so clearly:

Temari backhanding him into next week. Temari grabbing him by the collar and chucking him out a window. Temari launching him airborne with a single swish of her fan. Temari summoning Kamatari to bite his ear off.

Damn, his girlfriend was scary. The thought made his frown falter….

That huffy little pout. The way her blonde pigtails bounced when she stomped over to him, her little hands twitching and ready to slap some sense into him. Her eyes getting that scary teal-fire glow…

He sighed and shook his head, utterly defeated.

Damn her, he thought, grinning despite himself. She’s beautiful even when she wants to wring my neck. He sat up to look across the Nara land, noting the sun’s angle in the melting sky.

If he was going to get his teeth kicked in no matter what he did, he might as well try to do something nice for his girl, …right? He seized the moment of motivation, forming an oval with his fingers, and closed his eyes.

Take her at her word and just find a happy medium! he ordered his brain. Surprisingly, the conclusion came to him a moment later: Dinner with the crew. No one hates a dinner party, and everyone loves her. Done. Easy.

Shikamaru let out a satisfied yawn and crossed his arms, pleased to have settled the matter.

Hold up, genius. Her birthday present!

His hands flew back together.

Damn it, jewelry?

No, he’d never seen Temari wear any, and jewelry would probably breach her “big deal” rule.

Chocolate?

No, they were going to a dinner party. Food on food would be stupid, right?

What do you want, woman?? he wondered bleakly. This is worse than getting Naruto and Hinata’s wedding present! He’d be willing to shell out whatever it took if she would just like what he got her….

Losing the iota of motivation he’d mustered, he lowered his head in another trademarked Shika-sigh.

Times like these, he wished Asuma were still around.

He wished the same for his dad, of course…but Shikaku would have just shrugged noncommittally and told him to ask his mother, anyways. He’d already tried that. His mom, however, had been no help at all. All she’d done was gush about how ‘talented’ and ‘lovely’ Temari was until he’d fled the damn house! Like he needed reminding...

But Asuma…

Well, he would have loved Temari, too. But he would’ve had at least something helpful to offer!

Who am I kidding? Shikamaru couldn’t help the chuckle he felt in his chest. Like Asuma had any moves, anyway! Kurenai-sensei just took pity on the guy. He’d just tell me to get Temari flowers, like it was that simple.

Shikamaru sat up straight, struck by the sheer simplicity of it. Maybe it was that easy, maybe Asuma had it right! Flowers wouldn’t be too flashy or too much of “a big deal” or whatever Temari had called it.

Alright, Dad, Asuma-sensei..., he thought with a faint smile, standing to shrug his hands into his pockets. Let’s see if that famous ‘Ino-Shika-Cho teamwork’ can conquer this.

Game-face on, he trudged his way to the Yamanaka Flower Shop.

If he had thought he’d be prepared for Ino’s excitement, he’d have been dead wrong. Of course, he knew Ino better than that.

“So, uh, do you have any, uh…” he trailed off, unable to look her in the eye, feeling his entire body go tomato-red. Clearing his throat, he tried again, but every word combined into one: “DoyouhaveanyflowersfromSuna?”

Somehow, she deciphered the question he’d asked his feet.

“Shikamaru!” she screamed. “I have been waiting for you to drag your lazy ass in here and get her something! You really know how to wait until the last minute, huh?”

He could hear the haughty smirk in her voice.

“But really, Shikamaru, it’s so sweet!” She sighed dreamily. “You and Temari are perfect together…. And flowers from her home country…”

He looked up just in time to see her eyes glassing over as she clutched at her heart.

“Of course we’ll help you!” Abruptly, the honey left her voice and she traded her doe-eyes for her signature scowl. “Right, Choji?” she growled, smacking Choji’s hand as he reached for the last morsel in her bento,

“Y-yeah, Shikamaru!” he piped up, his red hand floundering until it landed on the back of his neck. “We’ve got your back, bud. You know we love Temari.”

Shikamaru felt relief surge through his system: these two would always save his ass.

Not wasting any time, Ino leapt over the counter, apron strings trailing behind her, and bodily dragged Shikamaru after her. Ignoring his grousing, she wound them through the rows of greenery and fragrant blooms until they reached a partitioned-off portion she called “The Suna Section!!”

“We actually have a pretty good variety of desert plants,” she declared proudly, sweeping a hand out before four tables overflowing with vegetation.

As Shikamaru bent his knees and gaped at the selection, his teammate prattled on, getting more excited with every question:

“So what else are you going to do for her birthday? It’s tomorrow, right? When does she arrive?”

Shikamaru knew she needed answers, but all he could do was gawk at the array of…things…in front of him. There were some squat little plants with ungainly, fat leaves…but they were kinda pretty in their own way: the stupid little leaves fanned out like petals, and they came in purple or a greeny-blue. Above those, he was pretty sure he recognized aloe stalks. Then there were a series of lethal- and ugly-looking things—the sort of things Shikamaru was positive would end up impaling him if he dared to present them to Temari. Spiky barbs, serrated leaves, deceptively plushy-looking fluff guaranteed to needle under the skin… There was nothing even remotely attractive about them….

“Helloooo? Shikamaru?” Ino flicked his ear. “Don’t ignore me when I’m trying to save your ass! What are your plans for Temari??”

“Oh,” he jerked his head up to face her. “Uhh…”

Her hands were on her hips, and he’d learned long ago that was never a good sign.

Laughing nervously, he rose. “Heh, I was kinda, ya know, hoping you’d help with that, too, Ino....”

Exasperated, she groaned. “Ugh, remind me to kill you later.”

Waving his hands in placation, he tried, “But you’re so good at this sort of thing!”

She got that creepy feline grin on her face again—the one that meant she saw through his lame ploy, the one that meant she was plotting—and gave him a wink.

“Fine, I’ll bide my time,” she conceded with an innocent smile. “But watch your back, ‘kay?”

Shikamaru shrugged and rubbed at his neck. He’d worry about her vengeance after he solved the birthday equation.

“Yeah, yeah. So anyway, Temari told me not to make a big deal out of it, but I figure I can’t do nothing.”

“Damn straight, Shikamaru.” Ino nodded sagely. “Damn. Straight.”

“So I was thinking just a simple dinner with the usual group…?”

“That’s perfect!” she squealed.

Shikamaru sighed, grateful for Ino’s stamp of approval.

“Casual and low pressure, but it shows that you thought about it and planned ahead. Well...,” Ino paused to throw him a glare, “that you should have planned ahead—but whatever!”

Ino turned on her heel, clearly satisfied with the intel she’d gleaned.

“W-wait! Ino!” Shikamaru had never sounded so desperate in his life. “Hey, c’mon! Don’t leave me with the plants!”

“Oh, calm down,” she smirked from over her shoulder. “Look them over, read the little descriptions, and just choose one you think she’d like! But actually read the tags, Shikamaru. ‘Cause some flowers have special meanings…and some species are poisonous!”

“Poisonous??”

He gaped at her.

Ino giggled at his appalled expression. She was enjoying his pain. So much.

She’d started out the night as his second favorite blonde…but Naruto had just made the leap up to silver.

“You’re a ninja, you can handle a few thorns! …And it’s not like the poisonous ones are fatal or anything.” With that, she was off, sliding open the screen and skipping through the rows and rows of flowers. “Oh, Chooooji!” she sang for the whole shop to hear. “We’re going to make Shikamaru look real good for his girlfriend! You’re in charge of the dinner reservations, and Sai and I will call everyone to get them on board.” She clapped her hands together like she’d never been so delighted in her life.

“How about that place with the little courtyard in the back? Best barbecue pork in town, great for a party!” he heard Choji offer.

Were they inviting all of Konoha to this thing, or were they just aiming for death by embarrassment?

“Oh, perfect! You’re their best customer, they’d totally pull some last-minute strings for you!”

Shikamaru could almost hear her bouncing in excitement. So maybe she was still his second favorite blonde, but did she have to be so loud?

“Shikamaru,” she called on cue, “we’re off to go plan your girlfriend’s party! Just leave the cash on the counter once you decide, my mom will be down in a bit to close up!”

Shikamaru grimaced as the door slammed. Choji wouldn’t let him down, and Ino was undoubtedly his savior…but he didn’t know a damn thing about plants. He didn’t want to know a damn thing about plants. Griping to himself, he knelt before the green things, cautiously shifting a few pots out of the way to see the full assortment, …waiting for a scorpion or something to lunge at him.

“Pick a plant, pick a plant…,” he droned miserably to himself.

Something not-hideous at the back caught his eye. As he reached toward it, the mesh of his sleeve dragged against some spikes. Glancing down at the culprit, he realized it was a furious-looking—yet somehow beautiful—cactus. Complete with a single, white bloom of multilayered petals, it looked rather like someone had glued a lotus to some wild desert thing. The more he looked at it, the wider his grin grew. It was just like Temari—as gorgeous as it was troublesome—and it was like it had chosen him! As he tried to disentangle himself without catching the spines of any other friendly Suna flora, he knocked over the small ‘Hanakotoba’ card in front of it.

My bad, Yamanakas. Like he was going to risk life and limb to pick up a scrap of paper!

But as he rotated his arm to dislodge the thorns from his shirt, he nicked his wrist.

“Damn,” he muttered, finally succeeding in freeing himself. It wasn’t a grumble this time: “Oh, shit!” Is this one of the poisonous ones?!

He extracted the cactus from the deathtrap of a display and snatched up the description tag staked near its base, frantically scanning for the mention of ‘poisonous’ or ‘toxic.’ Thankfully, it just said ‘See reverse for Hanakotoba Symbolism: Saboten’ and listed the care and lighting instructions. Relieved, he backed away with his hard-fought prize.

“’Symbolism’?” he scoffed, tucking the tag back into the pot. “Pffft. Like Temari cares about that!”

Mission completed, he marched triumphantly to the cash register, slammed the appropriate bills down on the counter, tore off several feet too many of red cellophane wrapping, and vowed never to set foot in the “Suna Section!!” again. 

Temari was all the desert he needed.

–

Temari’s birthday evening was off to a solid start. She’d arrived safely and seemed genuinely pleased with the dinner party idea.

“So you do pay attention every now and then, huh?” she’d purred, smirking at him. Then her lips had softened. More quietly, she’d said, “It’s just what I wanted. A nice evening with my friends and my idiot boyfriend.” She’d kissed his cheek then.

Blood rushed to his face, pride swelled up in his chest: he hadn’t let her down.

Not yet, at least.

But as he went down the ‘gentleman boyfriend checklist’—a set of rules Ino had long ago hammered into her male teammates’ heads—things seemed to keep going smoothly.

They’d parted ways so she could settle in and clean up after her long trek. He’d meticulously mummified her present in that red florist wrap. And he’d done it in a way that would preserve the flower at the top, protect the recipient from the spines, and lead to easy unveiling. Then he’d shown up on time and remembered to bring the stupid plant, just like Ino had instructed. He was actually feeling pretty proud of himself….

And when she exited her hotel, he’d managed to compliment her with a straight face—no fumbling for words or blushing or inappropriate glances!

“You look amazing, Temari.”

It had been no easy feat, however. Seeing her there in the soft glow of the streetlamps… She’d gotten all dolled up in a jade sundress, simple but stunning against her eyes and sun-kissed skin, clinging to the perfect hourglass of her body.

“And you clean up pretty nice yourself, kid,” she retorted, clearly hoping the jab to his sternum would distract him from her rosy cheeks.

It didn’t.

“Glad you didn’t wear a tie, though, or I’d be underdressed!”

Her dark eyes spotted the bright package resting in the crook of his elbow. She quirked an eyebrow and couldn’t quite keep that half-smile of hers from surfacing.

Her voice dripped of sarcasm as she pointed at it: “Should I be scared?”

“Yes,” he said smugly before offering her his arm, like a gentleman.

Hand in hand, they started off for the restaurant. For once in his life, he stood up straight, rolling his usually-slouched shoulders back. He was escorting a bombshell to dinner, so he should at least try to look the part, right?

Halfway to the restaurant, the wind picked up. Shikamaru mentally crossed ‘chivalry’ off his checklist and shrugged off his blazer to drape over her shoulders. She blushed prettily up at him with a sweet smile on her lips.

Keep it up, Shikamaru, he told himself, grinning down at her, and you might just live to see tomorrow!

At last, that lingering sense of dread was fading, and contentment rose to take its place: if there was something he hadn’t thought of, he was sure Ino and Choji had.

When they walked through the courtyard gate, they were greeted with woops and calls of Happy birthday! Temari squeezed his hand and beamed up at him.

Ino rushed over, towing Sai along by the hand, and kissed Temari on both cheeks. “Happy birthday, Temari! You look beautiful—teal is definitely your color.” Not waiting for a response, she snatched the birthday cactus, wrapped shiny and red, from Shikamaru’s hands and transferred it to Sai, who accepted it with a pleasant smile. “We’ll put this with the others. Now, come on and get something to eat!”

“Okay?” was all Temari had time to manage as Ino dragged her off.

As he and Sai followed Ino under the string lanterns, Shikamaru noted his team’s handiwork.

Choji had been right to choose this venue; it was perfect for a private party: the stars were shining, the moon was bright in the sky, the spread was mouthwatering, the barbecue tables allowed for easy mingling and warmed the cool night air. And the turnout was impeccable, considering the literal last minute notice of it all. Everyonewas there. Then again, he knew better than most just how difficult it was to refuse Ino. No doubt, she had personally corralled any stragglers.

“Shall we get a beer, genius?” Sai offered mildly, placing the cactus with the other gifts.

“Beer?” Shikamaru questioned and followed along. He was no longer fazed by Sai’s odd nicknames, but beer piqued his interest. Temari won’t mind, right? Nobody will go too crazy, …right?

On cue, Kiba and Choji appeared, frothing cups in hand, and regaled him with the tale of their labors:

Like mushers with a sled dog, they’d actually strapped a keg of beer to Akamaru, transformed it to look like a crate of sparkling cider, and casually hauled it through the streets. Clever, convenient, and a party trick in itself—Shikamaru approved, giving them sequential high-fives before raising a glass to his girl across the courtyard.

Ino had led her to a yakitori table, and she was immediately surrounded by some of the world’s finest kunoichis. Hinata and Sakura brought over the grilling meat, Karui—who must have been in town for the conference, too—took care of the veggies, and Tenten delivered the all-important beer. Assorted plates of barbecue fodder and plastic cups before them, they were more than prepared to catch up, drink up, and chow down.

Over the foam of his beer, he couldn’t help but appreciate how she was swimming in the blazer he’d draped over her shoulders.

She gave him a little wave, and that was all the permission he needed to take a hefty swig. Kiba and Choji were the true geniuses, he decided. But it wasn’t just Team 10 and Kiba’s keg: despite the last-second notice, everyone had gone all out for his girl. Thanks to them, this was going better than he could have hoped.

As Temari was chatting with her girlfriends, Shikamaru walked with the beer smugglers towards the central fire pit, where Naruto, Shino, and Lee had set up camp.

“Shikamaru, Sai,” Choji sniggered, pausing before they got into earshot of the others, beckoning them closer conspiratorially. “So we’ve got this thing going.”

“Oooh, I forgot!” Kiba butted in, barking out a laugh. “It’s brilliant.”

“We’re calling it ‘Did You Hear Naruto Got Married?’: The Drinking Game.’”

It was Shikamaru’s turn to snicker. Oh, this was going to be good.

“So every time Naruto says something about Hinata or being married or in love or whatever,” Kiba explained, “you have to take a swig.”

“I like games,” Sai agreed happily.

“Everytime,” Kiba emphasized seriously. “Them’s the rules.”

Any idiot could see this was going to go sideways and fast, but Shikamaru just shook his head and let a stupid grin fall on his face.

–

And sure enough, they all would’ve gotten hammered off Naruto’s marital bliss…if Sai hadn’t eventually asked why Naruto himself wasn’t drinking every time the blonde started mooning over his wife. But as it stood, they were all pleasantly buzzed. Naruto—who was somehow closer to plastered than those actually playing the drinking game—had almost fallen out of his cushioned patio chair when Sai had burst the bubble. Lee had a proposed a toast to “YOOOOUTH…ful love!” and even Shino had chuckled behind his turtleneck.

I’ll have to thank Sai later, Shikamaru thought, chuckling to himself. Could’ve gotten troublesome otherwise.

From there, Shikamaru was content to slowly sip his drink and just enjoy the company. He could see Temari was enjoying herself, she didn’t need him attached to her hip. So he watched the evening play out from his overstuffed armchair, foot occasionally tapping to the summery, chill tunes Lee had put on. Lee, he noted, had really good taste in music.

Two beers later, the mountain of barbecue fare had diminished, the groups had dispersed and mixed, Tenten had changed her camera’s memory card at least twice, and everyone had paid their respects to the guest of honor.

By the time Naruto brought him another sudsy cup, Shikamaru looked up to find his girl standing before him, hands on hips, an eyebrow arched expectantly.

“Didn’t save the birthday girl a seat, huh?” she teased, a faint alcohol flush on her cheeks.

He grinned and patted his thigh. “There’s room for both of us.”

Her mouth fell open.

Oh, shit.

He’d just said that. Out loud. This blew right by simply putting his foot in his mouth! No, she was going to put his foot in his mouth! “Tema, I—“

His jacket flew from her shoulders and hit him square in the face.

Someone gasped from behind him.

‘Liquid courage’? More like ‘liquid stupid’ in my hands!

A punch was sure to follow. He braced for impact.

I should have known I’d find a way to screw up tonight—it was going too perfectly!

A second went by, then another, …but nothing happened. All the warning he had was a sweet smell on the crisp air, and then he felt the weight of something warm and toned on his lap.

Wait, really?!

Stunned out of terror, he yanked the blazer off his head, and, sure enough, there she was. Arms and legs crossed, lips pursed, and blushing like mad—but she was perched on his knee.

A few Awww’s rang out from around them.

It must have been the liquid stupid or maybe their friends’ encouragement, but he decided to push his luck a little further. Flinging his coat out like a matador’s muleta, he let it fall over her legs—he was nowhere near drunk enough to risk revealing a wardrobe malfunction—and he pulled her up into him.

She let out an indignant yelp and flailed in momentary surprise…but she stayed put.

“Idiot,” she grumbled, fidgeting with his blazer blanket.

Yet she rotated in his arms to cuddle into his chest, tucking her legs up under his coat.

“Maybe, but I’m your idiot,” he laughed, tightening his arm around her bare shoulder. Apparently, beer turned him stupid…and really sappy. He was better off changing the subject. “You having fun?”

“Mhhmm.” She nodded against his shirt.

“Good.”

Basking in the glory of success, he ran his hand up and down her bare arm, keeping the chill off, and looked up to the cloudless night. Sitting there with his girl, fighting off a contented yawn, he realized he could get used to this. Maybe ‘Did You Hear Naruto Got Married?’: The Drinking Game’ was catching up to him in more ways than one….

A touch on his chest drew him back to the present.

“Shikamaru,” Temari murmured, tugging shyly at his dress shirt, “This is perfect. Thank you.”

Was she pulling at his shirt or his damn heart?? He could practically see it in her little hands! …And he knew he wasn’t getting it back.

Damn it, why am I so lame tonight??

Smiling despite himself, Shikamaru did the only thing he could: he tilted her chin up, thumb running along her jaw, holding her eyes for just a moment, …and stole a quick kiss.

Woops and catcalls and flashes exploded from all around them. 

The hell? he thought, startled out of their kiss. 

Temari almost jumped out of her skin when she looked up to see Tenten clicking away on her camera just a few feet away, but Shikamaru only grinned and hauled his girl into place for the picture. He was too damn happy to bother with the awkward, even when he realized all of them must have been watching his every move with Temari, ninjas lying in wait…. He chuckled and released his favorite blonde, who launched herself at Tenten to threaten her into handing over the camera.

“Teten, I swear I’ll—!”

Ino, socialite extraordinaire, stepped out of Sai’s arm to diffuse the situation.

“Presents!” she proclaimed loudly. Since Temari was conveniently already in the center of the party, she added, “Temari, stay right there!”

Ino’s order seemed to have startled the blushing birthday girl into obedience.

“You have to open Shikamaru’s last. Actually, open ours”—with a wink, Ino thumbed at Sai, who waved amiably—“after Shika’s! But the rest can go in any order.”

Tenten took advantage of her proximity. “Me first!” Beaming, she held up her camera. “My gift will be the prints, of course! Temari, they’re so cute, I swear!”

Tenten’s announcement was met with Aww’s…and few knowing smirks. She’d already captured some solid gold, and she was bound to get some more, if Kiba had anything to say about it.

Reluctantly, Temari acquiesced with a shrug, …one corner of her mouth barely rising. “Fine, fine. But for my eyes only.”

Next up was Shino, who emerged…from somewhere…to stand before Temari. He extended a small box.

Shit, it’s probably a live scorpion or something! 

Shikamaru leapt from his patio chair, preparing to weave a Shadow Possession and intercept the container. He wasn’t about to let Shino ruin her night with some creepy-crawly thing!

But Temari’s dark eyes glimmered with interest, and she shucked off the brown paper wrapping before Shikamaru could act.

Damn it, too late!

But to his surprise, she gave Shino a broad smile.

“Antheraea yamamai,” he declared proudly, erudite.

The evening crickets chirped their entomological approval…but no one else made a peep.

“Shino, c’mon, man!” Naruto whined good-naturedly, arm looped around Hinata. “Translate!”

“A silk moth,” he sniffed, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “It perished naturally, so there is no harm in appreciating its beauty behind glass.”

It was then Shikamaru realized that his desert girl wouldn’t have been fazed by a damn scorpion—or any other of Shino’s insects, probably—in the slightest. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried feebly to make like he’d lurched up for some reason other than saving Temari…from a bug.

“It’s lovely, Shino,” Temari said, holding up glass-top box for everyone to see her moth’s impressive wingspan. “Thank you.”

Sitting back down, Shikamaru had to admit it was pretty classy gift. Maybe I’ll go to Shino for next year….

From there, Kiba and Choji took credit for the ‘Konoha hospitality’—the keg—and Choji dragged Karui out by the hand.

“She made a chocolate cake for everyone! Trust me, you’re gonna love it. Sooo let’s hurry up with the presents, guys!”

“Yeah, his ‘taste test’ left me just enough batter for the cake!” Karui grinned and poked her boyfriend in the stomach.

Hinata rose to offer Temari a book on Konoha’s history and customs, stating with a smile, “From Naruto and me. Since, umm, your work brings you here so often, we hope Konoha becomes your home away from home.”

“’Home away from home,’ huh...?” Temari flipped through it with a sly smirk. “Thanks, Uzumakis.”

Shikamaru felt like he was missing something, but he wasn’t about that troublesome life.

“You’re already wearing my gift!” Sakura yelled from her post near Akamaru, sending over a wolf-whistle.

So that’s where she got the dress. If Shikamaru had been wearing a hat, he would’ve tipped it to Sakura; he made do with a grateful nod. Might have to send a thank-you note for the first and only time in my life…. He smirked.

“My gift will compliment Sakura’s!” Lee shouted with a thumbs-up, tossing her a small package. “What luck!”

A moment later, Temari held up a pair...of violet legwarmers. 

Somehow, she managed to keep a straight face—even as Lee lifted his pant leg in a wild kick to demonstrate just how versatile a garment legwarmers were—and thanked him, placing them with the rest of her bounty.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, had to pretend he’d choked on a nonexistent bite of beef. Tenten gave him a solid thwack on the back, but the reproachful look on her face told him she wasn’t particularly concerned about food being lodged in his throat.... 

But he's wearing legwarmers under slacks, Tenten! Shikamaru pled silently. 

Temari’s words, however, dissipated Tenten’s glare.

“Everyone, thank you.” Temari was looking down, suddenly shy again. “I’m really… I’m feeling the Konoha Hospitality, I guess!”

His girl looked so happy, just in time to unveil the cactus.

Choji was closest to the bench where Sai had left it. “I got it, Shikamaru,” he said and set it on the yakitori table nearest the birthday girl.

Temari raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend, fiddling with the note he’d slipped between the twine, but he just shrugged with a grin. She seemed so pleased with the rest of the night, it probably didn’t matter if his stupid plant didn’t wow her like Shino’s moth had.

“Read the card!” Naruto shouted, another beer in hand.

Shit.

He’d forgotten about that. And how was Naruto still observant with all the alcohol he’d knocked back?

“Uh, maybe not?” Shikamaru tried sheepishly.

Ino had told him to, but nobody else had gotten her a card. On top of that, she’d told him it would be ‘so, so, sooo cute’ to use a ‘term of endearment’ in it. Shikamaru grimaced. He hadn’t exactly planned on everyone hearing it...but maybe it wasn’t a big deal. They were at that point in their relationship, right? It wasn’t weird to call her a petname after a few months, right??

“Read iiiiiit!” Naruto bellowed.

“Alright, alright,” Temari laughed, either not hearing or simply ignoring Shikamaru. “Pipe down, blondie!” She cleared her throat and opened the simple Nara stationary. “’Happy birthday, babe!’” she quoted, smirking around babe. “’I’m a lucky man to have you in my life.’”

Hoots and Awwww’s echoed through the assembled ninja. A peach flush coloring her high cheekbones, his girl blew him a kiss with a wink. Lee clapped him on the back and sparkled a thumbs-up at him.

Shikamaru definitely hadn’t imagined Babe trying out her new petname…on herself—his ears were still burning to prove it—but he nodded in calculated appreciation:

Temari and the girls approved, and the guys were having fun with it. At his expense, sure, but fun nonetheless. He let out a sigh. Even if her brothers couldn’t be there, even if she was in town for work, even if he’d put it all off until the last possible moment… Temari was laughing and surrounded by friends. Was it too early to call the night a success?

Well played, Shikamaru. Best boyfriend ever, he congratulated himself with another satisfied nod and a swig of beer. “Careful unwrapping it, babe!” he called, letting out a smug chuckle after babe. He liked the sound of it.

She untied the twine holding the florist wrap together, peeled back the ruby plastic he’d so carefully arranged to spare her skin, and revealed the pretty plant he’d picked out just for her.

He swished his beer and waited for the sort of reactions all the other gifts had gotten.

But there were no girlish giggles, no excited coos. Even the legwarmers had gotten a warm reception, …but his plant couldn’t even get a cricket chirp?

And Temari… She was just staring down at the cactus, ominous in her silence. Her bangs were hiding her eyes; he couldn’t see her face.

Doesn’t she like it? he wondered nervously.

Then, all at once, static surprise gave way to dynamic reaction: Hinata fainted against Naruto with a squeak, her face beet-red. Sakura’s mouth fell open, and a The hell? slipped out. Karui was alternating between coughing up the drink she’d just inhaled…and snickering as Choji patted her back.

“Hina!” Naruto wailed, cradling his passed-out wife.

What’s happening?! Why are the girls freaking out, and why are they looking at the plant like that?? Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed as he tried to puzzle it out through the alcohol haze. Temari’s skin was turning pink! Oh, no! Was it poisonous?! He sprang up, ready to slap the offending thing out of her hands. No, wait. I would have felt it earlier, and I checked the tag!

“Tem…ari?” he tried, no hint of smugness left in his voice. Sweat was pooling between his shoulder blades.

Temari didn’t respond, still gaping down at the prickly plant.

Where the hell had Ino gone?? She’d know what was happening, and she’d tell him!

By then, Kiba had eagerly sidled up to a cherry-red Sakura for an explanation. Shouldering his wife’s limp form, Naruto hurried to follow suit.

To his left, Tenten was pink in the ears, trying and failing to stifle her giggles with her hand while Lee begged her for enlightenment.  

As he tried to shake the truth out of his teammate, Lee voiced what every male in the place was wondering: “What!”—shake—“Is!”—shake—“Happening!” Shake.

The brunette only laughed harder.

Damn it! What is it?!

Sakura, however, finally found the words to describe the indescribable. Once the breathless secret left her sniggering lips and hit their eager ears, Kiba howled, a wolf at the moon, and Naruto boomed a guffaw, nearly losing his grip on Hinata.

What? No! It was a thoughtful gift—even Ino said so!!

He felt panic welling up in the pit of his stomach as his fingers dug into the wood of the nearest table.

What. The. Hell. Everything was perfect until the girls saw the stupid cactus!

Akamaru joined Naruto and Kiba’s barks of amusement.

Et tu, Akamaru? he thought dismally.

Without a word, a glance, or a discernable emotion, …Temari grabbed the nearest beer and sank it, downing it in one go.

Oh, no.

He didn’t need to be a ninja to sense the danger in the air.

Though on opposing sides of the courtyard, Sakura and Karui gave into fits of uncontrollable mirth at the same time, well past words.

Damn it, no help there. This is bad. This is so bad!

He turned to Choji, who—judging by the tears streaming down his face—had clearly been filled in by his girlfriend. …Yet all Choji could manage was to mouth Dude! through hoots.

Some ‘best friend’ you are!

Shikamaru gritted his teeth, nerves eating away at his composure.

“Guys, come on,” he begged.

At his pitiful plea, Kiba fell to the ground, gasping and rolling in delight. Naruto, on the other hand, retained just enough self-control to recline his fainted wife safely against Akamaru…before he completely lost it and doubled over with Kiba.

“Shika—haha! …Shikamaru!” Kiba rasped out from the grass. “You-you—haha!”

Spit it out, man, jeez!

Since breathing was too much for Kiba and Naruto, Shikamaru turned to Shino, who only shook his head and shrugged, sunglasses glinting in the lantern light. Beyond desperate now, Shikamaru turned to Sai, who just smiled placidly, happy to see his friends enjoying a joke…even if it flew miles above his head.

Temari’s hands clenched into tight little fists of rage, snapping the emptied plastic cup in half.

What did I do?!

“Beautiful!” Sai cheerfully announced Ino’s return, pulling out her chair.

Shikamaru did a full 360 and finally found the person who could clue him in. Lips freshly glossed, she must have just come back from the bathroom inside.

As Ino’s blue eyes scanned the scene, all she could manage was: “What…the hell?”

“Ino—somebody—please just tell me what I did!” Shikamaru shouted, nearing his wit’s end. But his request only sent a fresh wave of hysterics through the party.

At last, Ino was by his side, yanking him to her by the ear. “Shikamaru!” she screeched in a pitch high enough to shatter both eardrums and glass. “I told you to read the descriptions on the plants, you idiot!” she hissed through clenched, white teeth.

“But it’s not poisonous, I checked!” Shikamaru defended weakly.

At that moment, another woman recovered her verbal faculties.

It was Temari, growling low and fearsome: “Shikamaru…”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

“Hanakotoba, moron! I told you some flowers have special meanings!” Ino ground out mournfully. “It says it right there on the tag.”

“Says what?!” Shikamaru demanded in a moan, drowning in trepidation.

He heard a sudden clickclickclick and dimly realized Tenten had recovered enough to start snapping photos through the giggles, forever preserving his abject horror. To her side, Lee’s complexion had changed to match the green of his dress shirt, clearly informed and clearly scandalized.

“It’s a plant! What the hell can it ‘say’ that’s so terrible?!”

It was then that Sakura regained the ability to string together a sentence: “Shikamaru, you-you gave her a—!”

Kiba’s snort from the ground, however, cut her off and sent her stumbling back into giggles.

So Kiba took it upon himself to fill in the blank, a roar of rapturous merriment:

“A sex cactus!” He choked on another howl of laughter, eyes tearing up in sheer joy, unable to believe the words as they left his mouth. “Y-you gave her a fucking sex cactus, man!” he wheezed.

Convulsions took him once more, his fists beating the blameless grass flat.

“The fuck?” Shikamaru breathed, brain backflipping in despair.

Someone must have spiked the beer, he was tripping. That was the only explanation for what he’d just witnessed.

“Damn it, Shikamaru!” Naruto yowled before joining Kiba in breathless grass-slapping. “At her birthday party, too?! She’s…she’s going to end you, bro!”

Shikamaru couldn’t take it anymore. High or not, this obviously wasn’t something he was capable of decoding! He lunged at Ino, hands grasping her shoulders like a lifeline.

“Ino, please!”

She shook her head sorrowfully. “Saboten, flowering cacti, are given as sexual gestures! Like, with that”—pointing with one hand, she squished up his cheeks in the other to wrench his head back toward Temari…and the obscene cactus—“you’re telling Temari—and anyone here with eyes and half a brain!—that you want her.”

“Whuh? Nwoh!” Even with Ino’s fingers distorting his words, he could hear the shrill of panic in them.

Ino released his face to massage her brow, wholly disappointed in his stupidity.

No longer obstructed, his voice was no less hysterical: “But that’s not a thing! How can that be a thing if only girls know about it?!”

Another reverberation of laughter.

Ino just groaned and face-palmed.

Shikamaru dared to glance back at Temari’s face, imploring. “Tema… I… I…!”

He couldn’t make the words happen. What could he say to erase a screw-up of these proportions?! They’d only been together for a few months—a few long-distance months! They hadn’t had the chance to get anywhere close to sex—they hadn’t even made out yet! Tonight had been the most physical they’d ever been!!

And I just propositioned her…for birthday sex…with a cactus…in front of half the village?!

His fingers rose to rake at his scalp, eyes widening in true realization.

“Oh,” Temari began darkly, taking a predatory step toward him, fingers tightening around the rim of the vulgar cactus’s pot, “it’s a thing, babe.”

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Oh no.

There was fury flaming in her eyes.

Oh no.

He felt his stomach fall through the earth’s crust: she picked up the indecent cactus.

Oh no!

He felt his stomach hit the earth’s core and combust: she was coming at him with the cactus.

OH NO.

This was it. He was a dead man. He was going to die a virgin…because his girlfriend was going to eviscerate him with a plant. A spiky, evil plant.

But then another thought hit him. A thought even more horrific than the obituary reading, ‘Cause of death: proposition by cactus’:

She’s going to break up with me—she’s never going to speak to me again!

Just then, Ino bravely flung herself between him and the wrath of his sex-cactus-wielding girlfriend.

“He didn’t mean anything by it, Temari! Your boyfriend’s just a moron and didn’t”—she turned to give him the full force of her glare—“read the damn tags like I told him to, so he had no idea! He just wanted to give you something pretty from Suna, you know, to be sweet. Since you had to spend your birthday away from home and all.”

Temari’s glower softened, but only slightly, the sex cactus still firmly in her grasp.

Laughing to herself, Ino continued in practiced sarcasm: “Of course, I figured he’d get you a tiny desert rose or a little echeveria. You know, something you could actually take with you after the conference.” She turned to scowl at Shikamaru again. “I mean, really. You expect her to take a cactus with her on the three-day hike back to Suna?”

Shikamaru moaned, the heat of shame was melting him into the grass. “Temari, I’m so so—“

Realizing she had accidentally fanned the flames, Ino cut him off: “I know! Why don’t you open your present from Sai and me? I can guarantee it’s better than Shikamaru’s.” She chirped out cheerfully, “Sai, darling!”

Sai materialized from the darkness, gift bag in hand, and smiled serenely.  

“Happy birthday, Temari!” he remarked and extended the bag, blissfully unaware of the murderous tension surrounding him.

Slightly stupefied, Temari lowered the x-rated cactus to the table at her side, and Shikamaru let out a quiet, shaky breath.

Ino, grab it while you can! He glanced frantically at his teammate, begging her to hear his thoughts, but she was focused on Temari.

Peering around Ino, he could see Temari raise an eyebrow.

As she accepted the proffered gift bag and parted the tissue paper, revulsion spread across her face. “Another one?!” She dropped the bag to the table with the rejected, dirty cactus in a heavy thud.

Ino, what the hell?!

“No, no…” Ino grinned, eyes twinkling gleefully back at Shikamaru. “You see, this isn’t traditional hanakotoba….”

Genius intellect or not, this was beyond Shikamaru’s understanding. How could he have foreseen any of this? All he knew was it was a miracle that he didn’t have a hundred new piercings to accent the ones in his ears. Hell, it was miraculous he still had a head on his shoulders! No... The true wonder was that Temari hadn’t shouted “We’re done!” and stormed off ages ago. He’d rather Temari skewer him with the stupid, debauched cactus and throw him on the yakitori….

Curiosity got the better of her, and Temari reached in. She slowly, gingerly retracted her hand, revealing something green and plant-y.

What is that thing?

Between Temari’s forefinger and thumb hung a frilled stalk of leaves…attached to a spiked, oblong fruit. She lifted her prize for all to see. 

Ire and mortification forgotten—perhaps replaced with utter confusion—his girl’s black-emerald eyes met Ino’s.

“And what, exactly, are you trying to say with a pineapple?”

The question was saturated in sarcasm, but Shikamaru detected the slightest hint of playfulness coloring Temari’s words. He felt his lifespan slowly extending, not even noticing as Ino attained the sweet vengeance she’d promised….

“Oh, it’s simple…. Don’t you see it?” Ino waved a dainty hand, only just able maintain her casual façade, brimming with barely suppressed anticipation. “It’s Shikamaru, of course!”

It took only a second for the joke to hit, before the outburst of obnoxious, tipsy titters echoed through the night. 

Ino nodded to herself, clearly satisfied with her delivery.

A fruit? Shikamaru thought dumbly, genius brain fogged with beer and total humiliation. She named a fruit after me?

“It-it’s perfect!” Naruto choked out from the lawn. He ripped up a handful of grass—dirt clods, roots, and all—and held it to Kiba’s head, miming...a ponytail.

Then a sidesplitting cackle rang out over the din. It was Shino, he’d finally cracked.

I am…a pineapple?

If Shikamaru had any blood left elsewhere in his circulatory system, it joined the rest in his face then.

Temari bit down on her lip, face twitching slightly. She closed one eye and slowly raised the fruit until it was perfectly parallel with her distraught boyfriend…and his pineapple-shaped head. Her teeth sunk in further. Her hand quaked, ...then her whole body.

Aliens had failed to kill Naruto, …yet Shikamaru was beginning to think the Child of Prophecy would laugh himself to death before the night was over.

“I chose a really green one, so it should be perfectly ripe by the time you have to head home,” Ino piped with yet another wink. “Figured a memento would keep you from missing him too much on the road!”

That was it. It finally happened. 

Temari laughed. 

And it wasn’t a snigger or a chuckle. Oh, no. It was a full-blown belly laugh. It bent her spine and sent the Shikafruit bouncing to the ground.

“Careful, you’re going to bruise him!” Choji roared, fueling the chorus of guffaws.

Shikamaru was too relieved to notice the embarrassment. Temari was laughing, and she couldn’t hate him if she was laughing! Hell, he’d answer to ‘Kiwi’ if that meant she’d forgive him! The corners of his lips started to turn upward.

From the corner of his eye, Shikamaru could see Lee was crying tears of youthful jubilation, and Hinata had finally awoken to Akamaru licking her face, blinking slowly.

About damn time for someone else to be the clueless one, he thought dimly.

Temari straightened halfway and wiped at her eyes, gasping out, “G-get over here, idiot!”

Shikamaru had already accepted that he had no retort, no defense. It was probably better to just get it over with, so he did as she commanded and loped over.

“Temari, I’m so sorry! I—“

She slapped him upside the head, latched onto his collar, yanked him close…and kissed him.

He had not seen that coming. He’d expected—at minimum—a bloody nose or Kamatari to join the party…. But this…

Just as he realized what was happening, just as his hands rose to cup her face, …she leaned back.

“No more plants,” she deadpanned under the catcalls, fingers tightening menacingly in his shirt, ocean-blue eyes glaring up into his.

“Never again,” he vowed in a murmur, trailing a set of knuckles down her flushed neck.

“Good!” she huffed, releasing him and swatting his hands off her skin. “Now hand me my pineapple.”

Finally, it was Shikamaru’s turn to laugh: “Yes, ma’am!”

Shaking his head, he stooped to retrieve his stand-in. Troublesome woman… he thought, placing it in her expectant hands.

He realized then that they were standing in the middle of the uproarious group—they were the literal center of attention—and he decided to give in to the liquid stupid just one more time.

“Alright,” he grumbled, face caught between a frown and a smirk, “you’re coming with me.” It’s not like I can get into any more trouble, right? I mean, I set the bar pretty damn high….

Before she knew what was happening, he had her scooped up in his arms, stupid pineapple and all. Careful to hold the hem of her dress in place, he carried his indignant girlfriend back to the abandoned armchair and sank into it.

Temari punched him in the shoulder but couldn’t keep a scowl in place…and collapsed into giggles.

“Okay, show’s over, folks! Someone cut the damn cake!” he announced, leaning one elbow against the armrest and finally allowing himself the solace of a nice face-palm. There was only so much humiliation a guy could take in one night, and he was never going to live this down—this was the stuff of legend around here!

Once she caught her breath, his girl scooted herself from his lap and up to the open armrest. Reclining against the backrest, she crossed her legs...and extended them to the opposite side, one foot dangling. 

Peeking out between his fingers, there was a mile and a half of leg stretched out before him….

NopeNopeNope! he chided. Look alive, idiot! You’re living on borrowed time as it is!

He jerked his chin up…and found her smiling wickedly down at him.

It was a devious purr: “Attaboy…”

Fear slapped his face the in the opposite direction, eyes wide and cheeks flaming.

ShitShitShit!

“Birthday girl needs some cake, I said!” he crowed to no one and everyone.

“Chill, Shikamaru,” Ino teased, already on the move. “We’re on it.”

Temari flicked his ear but draped her arm over his shoulders. “What am I going to do with you?”

Moping and mortified, Shikamaru’s right hand returned to shield his burning face, while his left slid around Temari’s waist.

Then—as if the heavens had decided to prove to Shikamaru he wasn’t the only one capable of humiliating himself that night!—Sai opened his mouth:

“Beautiful,” Sai inquired of the woman in charge of dessert, “when would you like a cactus? Perhaps there’s a hanakotoba book you c—”

“Oh, Sai…” Ino groaned, flushing crimson, and pulled his wrist.

Shikamaru allowed himself one snicker, but just one. He figured suffering through her stupid pineapple revenge had earned him that much.

“We’ll talk about this later, handsome,” Ino assured, kissing Sai’s palm. “Now let’s shut them up with sugar before some other calamity happens out here!”

Then, only a few steps closer to Karui and the cake, she grumbled, “Well, your odds are a hell of a lot better than Shikamaru’s are right now….”

“Okay!” Sai concurred agreeably.

Temari’s laughter vibrated through her body directly into his.

Yup, Shikamaru concluded, the universe definitely had it out for him….

As he tried to disappear into the cushions, he heard something interesting off to the side.    

“Hey, future hokage,” Sakura started, offering Naruto a hand off the ground. “Do you believe me now?”

The terrifying look in her seafoam eyes, the sarcasm in her voice—maybe the universe had moved on to another target, after all!

“Believe what, Sakura-chan?” Naruto squeaked out, one hand trapped in her vicelike grip, the other scratching nervously at his head.

“Wasn’t I just saying the Academy needs to teach cultural practices—like hanakotoba!—to all students, not just the future-kunoichis? Just think, we could have avoided this whole idiotic display…if”—her eyes blazed dangerously, her deathgrip tightened—“the curriculum were...corrected.”

Sheepishly, Shikamaru’s third favorite blonde gave the only response he could:

“You right.”

Against his better judgement, Shikamaru decided to run with Sakura’s reasoning, pivoting his head towards his girl with a smirk.

“See, Temari? It’s not my fa—“

Another slap upside the head cut him off. “Don’t even try, pineapple,” she scoffed.

Birthdays, women… They were all so troublesome.

...But maybe he liked a little trouble?

–

The Chunin Exams were planned, the conference was over, the sun was only just starting to rise…and Temari was standing at the village gate, about to depart for Suna.

“Guess you’re gonna tell the kazekage and Kankuro about your birthday, huh?” Shikamaru asked, hands stuffed in his pockets, absently kicking at a rock.

The days after her dinner party had gone by smoothly and without incident, but now that she was leaving….

“What, and start an international incident? Nah.” She winked. “They’re definitely getting a slice of Ino’s pineapple, though—don’t get too many of these babies in the desert!” Grinning wide, she patted the bottom of her overstuffed backpack. “Besides…” She lowered her voice, narrowed her eyes, “I’m sure they’ll hear all about your exploits soon enough on their own.” She shrugged theatrically. “Shame your present couldn’t travel, huh? Then I could’ve shown them how it all began….”

“Yeah, yeah…” Shikamaru pouted and scratched the back of his head, knowing he’d be catching shit for her birthday for the next decade or two. From Temari, from Konoha, from Suna… Hell, even from Kumo since Karui was there!

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! And speaking of my present... It better still be alive the next time I’m in town!” she snarked. “Anyways, I’ve got something to show you before I hit the road.”

She smiled that wicked smile of hers as the ascent of the morning sun cast a golden halo around her face. It made for a surreal combination….

“Tenten brought you the prints, didn’t she?” he groaned, throwing out an unimpressed hand. Why, Tenten, why?

“Sharp as ever.”

She withdrew a thick envelope from her weapons pouch and slapped the first two rectangles into his hand, one on top of the other.

“We don’t have time to go through all of them—whether you like it or not, we’re going to someday!—but these two are my favorites.”

Of course she’d organized them by favorites. No doubt, in order of how stupid he looked. Grudgingly, Shikamaru looked down. There was no point trying to avoid it, no matter how much he might have wished to forgo reliving his disgrace….

“First, we have the ‘Before.’ Like Tenten’s caption?”

Shikamaru had to smirk, he couldn’t help it. The ‘Before’ showed him grinning big with his arms wrapped securely around a pink and pouting Temari. Her tanned legs were tangled up in his blazer as she fought to escape his grip…and destroy the camera.

Beautiful, he thought, and deadly.

Underneath the photo, Tenten’s neat handwriting read:

‘Yeah, I’m the man.’

Shikamaru nodded in appreciation. He had to agree with Tenten’s assessment: he sure as hell looked the part. He slid an arm around Temari’s shoulders and leaned in to admire his handiwork. Even knowing what the next picture would show, he had to tease her: “Look what one little kiss did to you, you’re all flustered and sulky!”

Not even bothering to glare at him, she deadpanned: “You know you’re about to eat those words, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he muttered, sullen again. “I know….”

“Let’s take a look at the ‘Post-Cactus’ photo, shall we?”

Gleefully, she brought forth the monument to his eternal shame.

He wasn’t mentally prepared to look at the actual image yet, so his eyes fell on Tenten’s caption:

‘The Queen and her Pineapples’

Yup, he conceded, that sounds about right.

“So what do you think, Shikamaru?” she goaded, looking up at him so sweetly. “Personally, I think it might be Tenten’s magnum opus. I just don’t think she can top it!”

Oh, grow a pair, he scolded himself.

Grumbling and fighting off a blush, he finally looked at the image. They were in that armchair again but…

Whoa.

Temari looked like a goddess gracing a mortal with her presence. She was smiling triumphantly in the firelight, showing off her perfect teeth. Perched elegantly on the armrest, she had her long legs crossed demurely.…

Hello.

And he’d thought they’d looked good in the first photo! He was afraid she’d somehow catch him staring like a perv, so he tore his eyes away and finally faced the first jab to his ego. Temari had one hand proudly supporting that menace of a cactus in her lap. The second jab, of course, was dangling the damned pineapple above his hunched shoulder…for comparison. 

He sighed. She looked amazing…and then there was him.

He, a mere mortal, was slouched over, hiding his red face in his hand. Though only a grimace and a single eye were visible, it was more than clear he was glowering at his fruit look-alike.

He’d seen enough. He closed his eyes, shaking his head with a reluctant grin.

If I didn’t have that arm around her, I’d look one-hundred percent whipped…instead of, ya know, just ninety….

He reopened his eyes at the sound of Temari’s voice.

“I almost forgot. Tenten left a little note with the pictures,” Temari went on, voice noticeably softer.

Evidently, she’d decided she’d tortured him enough for one trip.

“Look, everyone signed it.”

She withdrew a slip of paper from the envelope and unfolded it for his eyes:

‘We’re all so sorry about the other night, Temari! We weren’t laughing at you, just at your boo! You guys are ~perfect~ together and all of us ship you so much!! Please don’t be mad. We love you. Come back soon.’

Smiling faintly, she carefully folded it up, slipped it in the envelope, and stowed it safely in her pouch.

Shikamaru rubbed her shoulder, unsure of what to say.

Even though they literally cackled at his misery…documented it in photos…and would never, ever let him forget it… He had the best friends around. 

And they’d become her friends, too.

Damn it, she’s turning me into such a sap!

As if on cue, it finally hit him:

There was no way all their friends just happened to have Temari’s birthday off! And the gifts they’d supposedly gotten or baked or whatever with one day’s notice…!

Ino and Choji… He shook his head with a grin. And probably Sakura, too.

They must have known he’d eventually get his act together and had just planned around it!

“Anyways,” Temari continued, “those two are for you to keep, but don’t worry: I have my own copies.” She snatched the pictures from his hand and slowly unzipped his vest. Slipping them into the mesh of his undershirt, she whispered, “Keep these close to your heart, babe.” She gave his chest a firm pat, clearly recalling how much she loved to torture him.

He was the least manly shade of magenta, he was sure of it. Troublesome woman…

Noting the sun’s position in the sky, she sighed, resigned, and looked away. “I have to get going.”

“Yeah, okay,” he frowned. 

One week was only enough to make him miss her. At least they’d both be in Suna at the same time next month.

“But before I go, I have a favor to ask, Shikamaru….”

Her voice had brightened, it sounded…dangerous. Her stormy-hued eyes were wide with contrived innocence, looking up at him so fondly.

Shikamaru stiffened. He knew the signs, he just didn’t know what was coming.

Temari leaned into him. Standing on pointed toes to reach his ear, as if to whisper sweet-nothings, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Kill my sex cactus,” she threatened in a honeyed coo, “and I’ll kill you.” With a firm pat on the cheek and a kiss on his lips, she turned on her heel. “Bye, boyfriend!”

As his hand rose to where hers had been, as he watched her stride off toward the desert, a chill ran down his spine. 

Damn, his girlfriend was scary.

Birthdays, man! So troublesome! ;)

🌵 Sooo this was my first time writing Temari or Shikamaru...or ShikaTema...ever! And fluff is new for me, since my default setting is dark and twisty…. I blame the sangria that 💯 fueled this marathon of a speedwrite. 🍷

🌵 I tried really hard to do them justice, and I hope this turned out okay!! If you liked it please let me know! ‘Cause that reblog / comment button is actually the “validate button.” ♥ Thank you for reading.

🌵 I hope to write a very NSFW continuation of this, also for Temari Week / Month. Let’s just say Shika manages not to kill the birthday sex cactus.... 🎂

🌵 Might continue this fic if there's interest! Beyond the smutty/fluffy Part II, mean. I do have several ideas! Might also be tempted into a possible SaiIno spinoff...?

🌵 Find my other fics on FF.net here; I write mainly SasuSaku + ItaSaku.

🍍 Shout out to @toondoon1010​, @angrypisces​, @thepiestperson for their support! Thanks, guys! ♥

–

XOXO

Endoh

🌵🍍🌵 UPDATE 11/16/18: NSFW SEQUEL COMING FOR SHIKAMARU WEEK 2019! 🌵🍍🌵

[calumisgod]

Teach Me (Michael Clifford Smut)

Summary: Y/N is a confused virgin who has never done anything but kiss, and Michael is her hot experienced friend willing to show her the ropes. 

A/N: SPOILER ALERT: There’s no sex. Sorry for the disappointment fam, but there is plenty of other dirty things to fill your needs. I was really planning to write sex, but the way the story went changed my plans. I am willing to make a part 2 if y’all want that but otherwise please enjoy! I find Michael gives me the least inspiration when writing smut but I’m actually liking how this turned out and I hope you do to. 

Requested: Nope, just something I worked on for awhile and recently came back to.

Word Count: 5k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN PLEASE MESSAGE ME IM LONELY AND LOVE TO WRITE

You’re home alone, and incredibly, unfathomably bored. After seven episodes of Chopped, you decide to further ignore your homework and everyday responsibilities, and invite Michael over to hang out, because you’re pretty sure he’s also avoiding school work at all costs. You send him a quick text, and the reply comes almost instantly.

I’ll be over in ten.

You toss your phone aside, and sure enough, Michael arrives ten minutes later.

You open the door for him with a smile, and he quickly steps through the door and pulls you into a hug. You nuzzle into his neck and squeeze his waist tightly before pulling back.

“I thought we could watch a movie in my room,” you suggest, leading him up the stairs.

“I will do anything that furthers my procrastination.”

“Perfect.”

Once you get to your room, you pick a movie out and Michael makes himself comfortable in your bed, as you fiddle with the dvd player. You pop in the movie and turn out the room lights, before heading over to join Michael on the bed. You slip in beside him, and because he’s Michael, he tosses a lazy arm around you and pulls you right into his side. You recline into his touch and can’t help your arm drifting over his torso, bringing you closer. This would be weird for most platonic friends, but it was you and Michael! Cuddling is constant in your friendship. He rubs your back lightly and enjoys the movie in silence, content at enjoying your company. After the movie, you sit up slightly, and Michael leaves his arm. He yawns and stretches a bit, before settling back into his seat.

“What now?” he asks. You shrug.

“I can get some ice cream and we can find something on my computer.”

“Okay!” he agrees. “Is your password still-”

“Yes. It’s still password.”

“Oh my god, you’re definitely going to get hacked and become victim of identity theft or some shit.”

You stick out your tongue at him, and he chuckles, as you head downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, you scoop out generous heaps of ice cream into the blue and green bowls and also, quite adorably, assemble tiny cups of sprinkles and different sauces. After finishing the dairy masterpiece, you carefully walk upstairs with the tray. You turn around to push the door open, and after setting down the tray, you notice Michael acting a little off.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, pulling his eyes away from the laptop screen.

“I didn’t mean to pry or anything-” he begins, “But this was just open when I logged in.”

He turns the screen around and it reveals your browser open to your last google search:

How do you french kiss??

And just like that, your face turns a million shades of red.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not going to make fun of you.” he assures. “M’just surprised is all.”

“Surprised I’m dumb enough to leave embarrassing shit on my computer?”

“No… Surprised you’ve never kissed before.’

You frown out at that. ‘Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve kissed plenty of boys… just not past closed mouth.”

He raises his hands in submission and clicks the tab away.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly.

“No it’s not.” you respond with a grimace. “It’s embarrassing.”

He shrugs.

“Want to just forget about it?’ he asks, opening his arms up to you.

You nod and crawl into the bed with him, cuddling yourself into his arms. He chooses another movie to watch and finally you move past the awkward issue.

Or so you thought.

“It’s not hard y’know.” he says, stroking your hair.

“What?” you ask, lifting your head from his chest.

“French kissing.” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “You don’t really need an article to show you.”

I laugh dryly.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve done it a thousand times.”

He goes quiet again for a minute, and then offers, almost as if he can’t help himself,

“I could show you.”

You look up at him, with wide eyes, the only light between you being the faint glow of the laptop.

“Are you messing with me? Cause that’s not funny Michael.”

“No I’m not,” he swears, “I just thought I could help you.”

Without thinking, you reply, “Um okay.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Really?’

You nod slowly, as if reassuring yourself. “Yeah.”

He pauses the movie and sets your laptop aside. He sits up, and you follow suit, heart pounding as you look into his hazel eyes, completely unaware how the situation escalated this quickly.

“Um I’m going to put my hands here.. If that’s cool.” he mumbles, sliding his calloused hands along your waist.

“Uh yeah totally.” you stammer, wondering why you’re so nervous all of a sudden. You drape your arms loosely around his shoulders and suddenly you’re so close. His nose presses lightly against your own, and gently, his lips ease onto yours. You relax a little into it, as you’ve done this before, but you can immediately tell that Michael’s the best kisser you have ever kissed. You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, and you feel yourself melting into his kiss, in a way you haven’t before. His tongue urges against your bottom lip, and you immediately pulled back.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing circles on my hips, “just open your mouth when you feel comfortable.”

You nod nervously. He can sense your hesitancy, so he tries to make you feel as relaxed as possible.

“Hey,” he says, squeezing your waist, “It’s just me.”

That gets you. You surge back in and connect your mouth to Michael’s. The second time his tongue presses against your lips, you cautiously open them, and Oh that feels really good. You follow his lead, and your tongues almost dance between each others. After a while you are definitely getting the hang of it. Michael makes it flirty and playful by, drawing patterns on your hips and hooking his teeth onto your bottom lip, pulling on it a little before pressing back into you, and you can’t recall ever being this attracted to him.

You tug on his shirt collar, desperate to feel closer to his kiss, and before you know it, he’s looming over you. He slumps just enough to press his body to yours, and it automatically deepens the kiss. Just as you think this kiss will never end, MIchael pulls back, and stares at you. He freezes for a second and then quickly shifts over to lay beside you.

“See,” he breathes. “Easy.”

“Yeah. thanks.”

*

After that night, things are.. weird. Obviously Michael acts like everything's the same as it was before, but you can’t deny that your feelings towards him have changed. He was so sweet about you being inexperienced, and he wanted to kiss you so that must mean something right? And you can’t put aside the fact that the way he kisses makes you want more. It’s like the movies. When your skin connects, even for a brief second, you feel butterflies.

It’s been three days, and after struggling internally for far too long, you confide in Ashton and ask for advice.

“Come on Y/N, what is it?” he asks, after you’ve dragged him to your locker.

“I need your advice.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

You take a deep breath and just come out with it.

“I sort’ve made out with Michael.”

His eyes light up, and he offers you a high five.

“That’s awesome!’ he grins. “He’s got a huge penis.”

You wrinkle your nose, and return Ashton’s high five weakly.

“But I think he thinks of it as a hook up, but I think I might like him?’

“Then ask him out.” he says flatly. “It’s not that hard of a concept.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to go out?”

“Believe me. He wants to.”

With Ashton’s advice, you ask Michael to hang out later that day and he agrees. When the clock strikes four, you hear a knock at your door, and you immediately feel that fluttering in your stomach. You head over and pull it open, and before you can think, Michael surges forward and attaches your lips to his. He kicks the door shut behind him, and all you can really do is kiss him back, all thought of conversation and relationship flying out the window. Without breaking contact, he somehow makes it to your couch and easily, pulls you into straddling him, and you can’t deny how good he feels against you. It’s not long before your head starts to get dizzy with his kiss, so you pull back to look at him.

“Hey,” he says, sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

“S���fine,” you mumble. For some reason, you can't bring yourself to talk to him about your feelings just yet, so you resign to pressing a kiss to his pale neck.

“Could you teach me a few more things?” you ask, in between butterfly kisses, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

“Whatever you want.” he says, his breathing getting shallow as you continue to trail your lips down his skin.

You reconnect your lips and you feel every part of your body reacting to him. His touch is electric. You can’t tell if it’s because it’s Michael, or if it is a result of never being like this with someone before, but either way, you feel more sexually charged than you ever had in your life.

His hands ghost up your sides, and he pulls back slightly, lips still on yours.

“Can I?” he asks, thumbs on your chest.

“Please.”

His hands force you apart so he can grope at your chest. You squeak as he does so, producing the first outright noise you’ve ever made with him.

“That's what I like to hear.” he smirks, brushing a finger over your nipple, hardening against your bra. You experiment with biting down on his lip, which elicits a low drawl from within his throat, muffled by your mouth on his.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks. You know what you want, but you’re nervous to admit it. You’re not going to pretend he doesn’t intimidate you sexually.

You don’t respond for a second, which worries him.

“Babe?” You bite down on your lip at his use of a  pet name, and fiddle with the ends of your hair.

“Are you done for today?”

You shake your head.

“Then what do you want?” he asks, lifting your chin.

“It’s embarrassing.” You say, a blush heating up over your face.

“S’not,” he assures, “you just want to feel good and I want to help.”

“Could you,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, “give me head?”

He inhales deeply, then presses a kiss to your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, I'd love to”

“Can we move to my room?” you ask him.

He doesn't reply, just simply curls  his hands under your thighs and lifts you up. You tighten your arms around his neck, as he kisses down your jaw on the way your room. He sets you gently onto your bed, and climbs on in front of you. He leans over your body to kiss you and further your physicality by pulling your leg up over his hip. Your dress rides up your thigh and for the first time, you can feel Michael against you. Really feel him. Your untouched body writhes under his touch, desperate for contact.

“Michael,” You whine, breaking the kiss.

“Do you want me?” he asks, voice like gravel.

“Yeah,” you manage, trying to ignore the way you involuntarily shuddered at his words.

He gives you one last lingering kiss before sliding down your body and pushing your dress up completely over your hips. You hold your breath as he runs his hands up your thighs.

“For this, all you have to do is lay and relax.”

You nod, and let your eyes flutter closed as he begins pulling your underwear down. He slips it gently over your ankles and spreads your legs ever so slightly.

“Have you ever had an orgasm,” he asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you  sputter, “masturbation, y’know.”

“But not by any other guys?”

“No. Just you.”

He moves up close and tentatively presses his lips against your core, earning a gasp from you. His tongue slips through his parted lips and slides along your wet slit, making you feel so hot, in a way you’ve never felt before. He slide his hands up your body till he finds your hands, and interlaces your fingers together. As he continues to sweep his tongue over you and nip at your sensitive spots, you began to moan, like you’ve never have before. You unintentionally grind yourself onto his mouth, and it becomes almost impossible to stop Michael’s name from falling from your lips.

“Feel so good Mike,” you sigh, gripping his hands tighter.

“Tastes even better,” he groans, pressing his face deeper into you. He latches his lips around your clit and his teeth drag ever so slightly around it, making your back arch off the bed and that’s when you feel pressure in the pit of your stomach.

“Close,” was all you can say, before pressing down onto Michael. He quickly speeds up his motions and you continue to build. It’s happening so quickly and with one last flick, you release, in pure ecstasy. He pulls you through it with gentle licks, and all you can think about is how much better it was when he does it than when you do it yourself.

He resurfaces once you calm down, his chin shiny and his smile bright. He pushes the skirt of your dress down and climbs into the bed beside you, slinging an arm low over your hips.

“Was that alright?” he asks, snuggling into your neck. You steady your breathing and let your arm fall to rub his back.

“So good,” you tell him, “So fucking good.”

He laughs a little.

“You taste really nice.”

You bite your lip. “Thanks.”

The two of you lay in silence, just Michael massaging the curve of your hip, and you relishing in the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

“Y’know, it's really hot when you swear.” he says, looking up at you. You  almost feel like laughing, but Michael finding something about you hot, pushes the humor of the situation away.

“It's hot when you do anything,” you blurt out. You think he’s going to laugh at you, but instead,  he leans up and gives you a warm open mouthed kiss.

You hang out for a little over an hour before Michael’s mom calls him home. He gives you a tight goodbye hug and leaves, leaving you more confused about your relationship than when the day started.

*

“You did what?” Ashton asks, clearly in shock by this new information.

“We went to third base, and I didn't tell him I like him.”

“How have you gone to third base without telling him you like him?”

You shrug and put your face in his hands.

“It didn’t seem like the right time.”

“Well clearly if you were balls deep-”

You slap him in the arm. “Don’t be gross. And I wasn’t balls deep.”

Throughout the rest of the week Ashton continues to tell you to actually go after Michael for a relationship, but without knowing where he stand, you don’t feel comfortable admitting your feelings to him. But the problem is, you can’t stop thinking about him or his feelings for you, if there are any. It’s just… why does he continuously offer to help you with all the physical stuff? It could be just because he wants sex, but Michael isn't like that.

It’s Thursday of the next week when he reaches out to you again.

Free after school? he texts. You smile at your phone and respond immediately.

For you… Never.

Aw come on, please?

I guess I can make time :)

I'm glad. I'll meet you in the parking lot.

After school that day, you’re excited and nervous for the night ahead. You make your way out to the parking lot to see Michael leaned up against his car, and you wish it didn’t, but it gives you butterflies. You run up to him and tackle him in a hug. He quickly engulfs you in his arms, laughing into your shoulder.

“Hey babe,” he grins, pulling back to see your face.

“Hi,” you smile.

He heads around to the driver’s seat and you follow suit getting into the passenger seat.

“Hey, could we get some food first? I'm starving.” He asks, shoving the key into the ignition.

“Sure, Mike.”

He drives to a little diner near school and you sit at a small booth in the back. After ordering, receiving, and finishing your quick meal, the waiter returns to grab your plates.

“Would you like me to split the check?” he asks, setting a fork onto his stack of plates. Before you can respond, Michael cuts you off.  

“No thank you sir.”

Once the waiter leaves,  you eye him suspiciously.

“Michael even though it's easier for the waiter, doing that makes it so much more difficult for us to pay.”

He waves your words away.

“I'm paying.”

You try to object, but he ignores you.

“I made you come out with me, so I'm paying. It's not a big deal.”

You tug your lip between your teeth and allow him to pay, trying not to overthink his kind gesture and turn it into something more.

After a short drive to Michael’s house, he parks the car, and the nerves fully hit you. This will be the first time being at Michael’s house without other people being there. After he unlocks the door he tosses an arm around you and thankfully that calms you a little bit. Seconds after entering you’re  surprised to hear Michael’s mom’s voice greeting him from the kitchen.

She heads into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. When she sees Michael with his arm around you, her face seems to light up.

“Oh hello Y/N!” she smiles, “So nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too Mrs. Clifford.” you say, offering her a wide smile.

“Michael didn't tell me he was having anyone over.” she says, untying the apron around her waist. “No matter, I was just about to leave anyways.”

Michael offers a sheepish smile and Karen makes quick work of  getting her things together. As you  go to take off your shoes, Karen leans over to whisper something to Michael and he just grins stupidly and wiggles out of her grasp.

She waves goodbye to you and leaves happily.

“Sorry about her. She can be so motherly at inappropriate times.” he says, coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It's no problem, she's so sweet.” you assure him. “What I want to know is what she says to you when I was over there,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He scrunches up his nose and rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“She said I made a good choice because you are very pretty.”

I giggle.

“I'm glad Karen approves.” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. “But I doubt she would approve of what I'm about to do to you.”

“And what is that?” he asks, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

“I wanna give you a blowjob,” you say just above a whisper. With your words, he grabs your hand and pulls you to his room. He shuts the door and quickly, and immediately has you pressed up against it.

“I'm blind in this area,” you warn, in between his kisses, “I'm going to need you to talk me through it.”

He moves the object of his kisses to your forehead and nose and cheeks, turning from passionate to sweet and loving in a second.

“Don't worry.”

You pull him to the comfy chair in his corner and kiss him, but it seems different than before. It’s a lot softer and sweeter than before.

“What do I do first?” you ask, sitting yourself down on Michael's lap.

“You have to uh, get me hard.” he says, running his hand through your hair.

You make a face. “I don't know if I can do that.”

He nips at your neck. “Oh I’m very confident you can. Just, do what feels right.”

You’re sure you look like a deer in headlights for a second, but you quickly regain your composure, and pull your shirt over your head.

“Is that a good start?” you ask, making sure your breasts were at level with his eyes. He chokes a little and looks back up at the little smirk on your face.

“A very good start.”

You slip your legs on either side of Michael and pull him by the collar into a kiss. You’ve gained so much more confidence in your body since the first time you kissed Michael, and right now you’re pulling it out. You don’t even flinch when he slides your bra straps down ever so gently. Using some context clues, and what you’ve seen in porn, you slowly begin rocking yourself against Michael.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as the friction between you increases. He pauses kissing your lips to attach his lips to the tops of your chest. You love the feeling of him, but you can’t help but want more.

“Could you?” you ask, motioning to your bra clip, slightly out of breath from the grinding taking place.

He makes quick work of your bra, and pulls his own shirt over his head to make it even. Your chest only presses against his for a second, before he’s connecting his mouth to your nipple.

“Wow,” you breathe. Not only does his mouth on you feel amazing, but you can literally feel him growing beneath you. The fact you have that effect on him is incredibly sexy to you.

“Your tits are amazing,” he says, kissing you again.

“I knew you'd love them,” you laugh, pressing your chest against his.

You rock particularly rough against him and he groans.

“I’m sure you can tell, but I'm hard,” he tells you, sliding his hands over your bare waist.

“Okay,” you say, climbing off his lap, and settling in front of him on the ground.

Your eyes zero in on his bulge, and you can feel the wetness growing between your thighs as you look at it. You sit up on your knees and reach for his zipper, before sliding his pants down and then it’s just thin fabric between you and Michael’s dick. You run your hand over it, and Michael ruts against your hand.

“Sorry,” he breathes, opening his eyes to look at you. You reach for his waistband and with a single tug, his cock springs free.

You whimper at seeing him for the first time, and you had no idea seeing him would turn you on so much. You take a deep breath and grasp him in your hand.

“What do you want from me, M?” you ask, the situation turning serious.

“Your mouth, baby.” he pleads.

“What do I do?”  

He sits up closer to you, and pulls your hair back, as you start pumping him in your hand.

“Start sort of like kissing,” he says, “don't use your teeth, and just go with your gut.”

You sit for a second, as those weren’t the best directions in the world, and Michael quickly senses your fear, leaning down just enough to kiss your forehead. You know you want to make Michael feel good and that is enough for you to wrap your lips around his head and go for it.

You drag your lips up the side and take a little bit more of him into your mouth, and surprisingly, it’s not as bad as you expected it would be. You start to slowly bob push and pull him back into your mouth, and the groans and little whispers he starts up, fuels you forward. You have a gag reflex, so you can only go so far, but each time you hit your limit, he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls at your hair, which is completely worth the momentary loss of breath. Watching him is so hot to you, you can’t help but reach down to rub yourself lightly through your skirt. It’s an overwhelming amount of pleasure, and it makes you moan around Michael. You can tell he’s trying to keep from thrusting up into your mouth so it’s grateful for that. Getting him there seems to take forever, but when you feel him start to twitch in your mouth, relief washes over you.

“Babe, you can pull off now,” he chokes out. You look up at him and shake your head. You’ve made it this far, you’re not going to quit now.

“Gonna come for you,” he warns, voice ragged. At the sound of his voice, you whine around him, and that’s what sends him over the edge. He jerks up into your mouth, and all you focus on is swallowing quickly and watching his face as he comes undone beneath you.

When you’re sure he’s finished, you pull off, wincing a little at the odd aftertaste in your mouth.

You help him back into his underwear, and he grabs his balled up shirt and uses it to wipe off your mouth before pulling you back into his lap.

“How was that?” you ask, resting your arms over his that are draped around your waist.

He nuzzles into your shoulder and you can see him holding back a smile. You rested your hands on his cheeks and pull him up to look at you.

“That bad, huh?” you laugh, placing a kiss on his nose.

“Nah,” he smiles, a blush rising on his cheeks. “It was so so good.”

“Don't flatter me.”

“I'm not babe, I'm just stating facts.”

“I like it when you call me babe.” you say, before you can help yourself.

He doesn’t reply, but rather pulls you closer to him. And having him hold you is something you don’t see yourself getting sick of anytime soon.

*

For the next month, you and Michael hang out more, beyond sex stuff; and him buying you dinner and taking you out places becomes a more frequent occurrence.

And you continue to not talk about your feelings for a long time, but it all comes to a head when the two of you are stretched out on a blanket on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars.

There’s a lull in conversation when Michael turns onto his side to look at you. Noticing his change in physicality, you turn on your side as well to look at him. He puckers his lips at you, and you roll your eyes, but lean in to him and kiss him. You kiss casually, your tongues intertwining, and your hands on each other, but you pull back abruptly before you can stop yourself.

“Have you been thinking about sex?” you ask, bluntly.

He stiffens. “What do you mean?” “Well, I guess that’s the logical next step for you to teach me, and I was just wondering if you’ve been thinking about it or not?”

He studies me for a second, before pulling away from your gaze.

“I guess I’ve been thinking about it, but I don’t think I would be the best teacher for you.”

You furrow your brows. Why after all that you’ve done is he trying to pull out now?

“Why not?” you ask, pulling back from his touch. He can tell he’s upset you, so he quickly reaches for your hips and pulls you back.

“It’s cause I’m a virgin, Y/N.” he states, and you are utterly taken aback that.

“Seriously?”

He makes a face. “Why is that so weird?’

“You kind of put up a facade that you’re a sex genius, so I guess I just assumed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” he says, his fingers absentmindedly tapping at your hips. “So I should probably leave sex to the experts.”

You bite down on your lip, and he before you can formulate a response he continues.

“I don’t know I’ve always hoped I would lose my virginity to someone who really cares about me. Like that’s stupid, but you know what I mean.”

“I care about you.” you say, before you can stop yourself.

“I know, Y/N, but I mean like... romantically.” he says, cringing a little at his own words.

“So do I.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“I like you Michael.” you say, and then it all comes out. “I’ve liked you since we started all this stuff, and I was going to tell you, but doing this was basically like dating anyways, so I just let it slide.” And you can see his face shifting into a smile. “But the bottom line is I like you.”

“Good.” he mumbles, tugging you into a messy kiss. “Because I thought I was the only one catching feelings.”

“Well actually,” he continues. “I kind of caught feelings before we started doing all this, but definitely watching you blow me made the feelings deeper.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“No, you’re stupid.”

You open your mouth to send back another retort, but he catches your lips in a kiss, melting away all negative thoughts from your brain.

And while you kiss, Michael’s thoughts ring in your ears, about wanting to lose his virginity to someone who cares about him, and you smile against his lips, knowing that if that someone is you, you’ll make that wish come true.

[soft-sarcasm]

mark lee: almost-almost.

33. “Be a little quieter, I’m trying to take your makeup off.” + 44. “I can hear your smile through the phone.”+ 15. “I love just being around you.”

Pairing: mark lee x reader.

Request: Anonymous: Hello, i know youre not writing for the dreamies but do you write for mark...? If so can i request a drabble with prompt 33? Thank you so much and have a great day! + @anothernctzen: Helllooo can I have mark lee with 15 and 48 for the drabble game? Thanks in advance! 💞

Genre: fluff, sleepy and pouty mark.

Word count: 2+k.

a/n: so obviously I don’t know what a drabble means because I literally am only writing pieces over 1k but oh well, hopefully you guys aren’t sick of them yet. I had yet to do one of these drabbles with over two prompts so this was definitely an experience but when I was writing the storyline just seemed to meld together. Anyway, hope you guys like it and feel free to request if ya’ll want. (also i’m tagging you @kaylee-jade-camp and this has it’s own title because three pompts is too long.)

request a drabble.

  In theory, it is far too easy to say you’re going to do a multitude of productive things. The difficult part is even the completing of these tasks but rather conquering the ever-menacing foe of procrastination and actually gearing up to do the 101 productive things you list for yourself to do every day. The feat is made especially difficult when one is not just combating laziness but also the struggle of being pinned down by another human onto the bed you’re already having to coaxingly convince yourself to leave.  Everything becomes even more strenuous and taxing when the aforementioned human looks incredibly peaceful as they continue to sleep on, most likely oblivious to how inconceivably difficult they’re currently making your life.

Just the peaceful expression on Mark’s face was enough to make you want to throw in the towel and just stayed curled up with him in bed for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, despite the endearing, unconscious pout on his lips and the smudges of day-old makeup that was a side effect of him coming straight to your apartment (and in turn straight into your bed) after a music show; you needed to get up. As reluctantly as ever, you extracted yourself from his grip as carefully as possible, wincing at each and every creak you made as you tip-toed away from the bed.

Wednesday was the only break in your class schedule which meant that it was also the only day you had to catch up on all of the non-school related work that you had otherwise been neglecting. This meant the mundane things like washing and folding clothes, scrubbing your apartment of the dirt that Mark always teased was ‘nonexistent’ due to your near obsession with keeping your living spaces permanently immaculate and food shopping because your fridge was just depressing at this point. Thankfully for you- you had always been an earlier riser which meant it was usually easy to lug yourself out of bed at the latest 7:00 in the morning. However, as previously stated, adding Mark into the mix usually made the parts of you that wanted to be productive so you could relax and the conflicting opposition that much rather procrastinate and cuddle with Mark battle it out in the early hours of the day while he simply slept peacefully on; unaware of the internal war that was happening within the person he had cuddled to his chest.

Today productivity had won which meant you were grabbing a discarded hoodie from the floor over your oversized t-shirt and leggings that you most definitely had not worn to bed the night before, never. After having something to shield you from the cold that you were now so painfully exposed to due to the lack of having the perpetually warm Mark Lee wrapped around you, you grabbed for your phone that had been dutifully charging throughout the night before scampering out of the bedroom as quickly as possible so to not further disturb it’s unconscious inhabitant.

Your next course of action was attempting to fill your washing machine and clean the lingering dishes in the kitchen sink with as little noise as you could muster. Every small clutter of plates or silverware made you cringe and your spine prickle as you cursed the paper thin walls of your shoe-box apartment. Finally, you pressed the button labelled ‘Regular Cycle’ on the machine and listened carefully for the quiet mechanical wire before sighing in relief as no noise of consciousness emerged from your bedroom. Now that the most pressing and time-conscious tasks were done, you were able to complete your venture in acquiring the true necessity of life; food.

You could only hope as you scrambled to grab your handbag and slip out of your apartment that the previous day’s workload would be enough to keep Mark asleep until you returned home from the shop that was thankfully in walking distance from your building. There had been once when you had snuck out to grab two lattes from a coffee shop on one of the few mornings he had actually slept over and you had received a stern talking to when you had returned back as Mark had awoken to your absence. It had been a tedious thing, taking him seriously that day while he stood before you, shirtless and hair ruffled by sleep as he attempted to berate you for giving him no warning of your departure. His gripe was made all the less convincing when he had conceded to your lax apology of a pout and a kiss on his lips.

 Your body was half but half inside the seemingly endless meat-filled freezer as you painstakingly searched for the cut of beef you both wanted and could actually afford. Your fingers pried petrified package from petrified package only to be halted by the shrill sound of your ringtone that made you instantly recoil from the frost-bitten produce. Instinctively, you grappled for the cellular device, mindlessly running your near frozen finger over the ‘Answer’ button with no inherent caution.

“You left without telling me again.”

You could almost feel the sulky pout that accompanied Mark’s opening statement and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, going back to surfing through meat packets as you kept your phone pressed to your ear, “I’m getting you food.”

The pout most likely increased, “But you didn’t tell me- I would have gone with you.”

“Yeah right,” You scoffed, having to concede to a cut that was not in your usual price-range for the sake of your sanity and your fingers, “And have my trip take at least twice as long because you’ve gotten distracted? No thanks. Besides, you were asleep.”

“I’m not anymore,” He further brooded and you could hear the distinct rustling of sheets that meant that he was still in bed, “And I take great offence to that previous comment about getting distracted.”

“Good,” You snarked, a taunting smile twisting like smoke at the corners of your lips as you reached for a bottle of Mirin, checking the price only briefly before throwing it into the cart that carefully peddled along under the guidance of your hand. “But anyway- you had no reason to mope, I’m almost done anyways.”

“Almost done or almost-almost done?” Mark pestered like the persistent idiot he was and you had to suppress the chuckle his adamant childishness summoned, “And stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” You instantly rebuked, attempting to smoother your grin to no avail as you joined the line that thankfully only contained two other sleepy-eyed customers besides yourself.

“I can hear your smile through the phone.” He stated all too dryly and you could help but squawk out a laugh that resulted in you getting side-eyed by the clerk who was busy restocking the shelves to your right.

“Don’t worry love,” You soothed, placing your chosen items onto the counter, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You better- otherwise I’m leaving you.” Mark declared adamantly, “But only after I eat breakfast, might as well get some sort of compensation.”

 “Honey,” You crooned as you pushed open your door, a task that proved rather difficult as your hands were currently occupied by heavy-weight shopping bags, “I’m home.”

Mark’s only sign of recognition from his spot at you the tiny table you had purchased for the sole purpose of not being falling into the student trope of eating dinner at your coffee-table was a disgruntled hpmf. He scowled at you as he further cocooned himself in the comforter he had completely wrapped around himself, nursing the cup of coffee you had left for him in the microwave in the hand which was also the only part of him besides his face that was visible.

“Finally,” Was all he curtly grumbled out as you shuffled past him in the direction of the adjoining kitchen, “I see you meant almost-almost instead of almost.”

“Is that a Canadian thing or is it just a Mark thing? Because I have no idea what the difference between almost and almost-almost is.” You questioned as you began to distribute your purchases into their designated positions.

“Almost means that I’m two minutes away, almost-almost means that I’m almost, almost ready to leave.” He clarified while begrudgingly trailing after you into the kitchen where he took a seat on the counter.

You took a moment to glance back at him, placing down the sugar you had been busy pouring into its container so that you could quickly scamper over and press a kiss to his jutted out lip, “You learn something new every day.”

His glower only increased at your taunting as you resumed your previous task and left him moping in his blanket on the opposite counter, “I really don’t like it when you leave without telling me.”

“Sorry,” You gave an uncommitted shrug, “I didn’t think it would be necessary because I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

“I can’t sleep without you,” He griped and you couldn’t help but coo at his endearing admission.

“Well then I’m actually sorry,” You said in complete sincerity shutting the fridge after you had successfully finished resuscitated its contents, quickly swiping one of the few remaining packets as you toddled back over to Mark. “I thought you would want some food seeing as I didn’t have any and you love food so much.”

“We could have ordered,” He countered, only half watching as you began to extract a makeup wipe from the freshly opened packet, “And anyway, I would have been fine without food anyway if it had meant you being here when I woke up. I love just being around you.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, shaking the makeup wipe slightly before raising it to his face to work at the remaining smudges of eyeliner and concealer that still littered his skin, “You’re being awfully confusing you know. I don’t know if you’re annoyed or hopelessly in love with me.”

“Both,” He simply summarised, blinking furiously as you attempted to remove the faded black line from the corner of his eye, “But you know it is rather rude to just leave with no warning, I mean what if one of these times you’re kidnapped and I just think you’ve gone out for some coffee. I mean really you should-”

“Be a little quieter, I’m trying to take your makeup off.” You butted in after you missed a particularly resilient spot of mascara for the second time due to the amount his head was wriggling as he continued to spew out his rambles, “And I already said I was sorry, are you really going to keep whining?”

Mark’s lip jutted out just in time for you to swipe the applicator across it causing him to recoil at the chemical taste and for you to grin at the disgusted look on his face, “Fuck that’s disgusting.”

“Well they aren’t really for eating,” You cooed, giving the left side of his face a final wipe before pulling back, satisfied with your work, “That’s what the food I just went and got you is for.”

Before Mark could voice any further complaints, you smothered his gripes with your lips on his and you couldn’t help the feeling of coy satisfaction as you felt him gradually melt under your presses. He was further sedated when you pulled back, reaching out from his blanket fortress to grab for you when you attempted to step back.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done yet.”

You allowed yourself to be pulled back, wrapping your hands instinctively around his neck, “I thought you were annoyed with me.”

“I am,” He clarified, a content smile threatening the edges of his mouth, “But I’m also hopelessly in love with you.”

“As you should be- I’m a catch.”

“Alright, maybe I’m just annoyed.”

DRABBLE MASTERLIST. 

[plasmagoblin]

(Addressing important things about my blog and where its going under the cut)

Hey again guys!! I’ve been thinking a lot about my blog lately and how badly I need to explain so many things. I put it under the cut since there was just so much and I didn’t want to spam someone’s dash who didn’t care ahh.

1.) ABOUT MY BLOG LAYOUT:

My blog layout has always been something I’ve struggled with. I always want to change it the next day because I end up hating what I loved at first. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to fix this part of me since I am a major perfectionist, but I’m seriously trying to find something I’d be comfortable settling with, at least for a little while. 

2.) MY EDITING:

My editing? Yikes here’s a long one. When I first starting editing my photos I was using an online editor called Pixlr, which I still use for small things like headers, but I was using it religiously. Then, when I got more serious with my simblr, I bought PhotoShop. I thought this would make me want to post higher quality posts in a bigger quantity, but it made the opposite. I starting procrastinating uploading photos and stopped caring if it was high quality due to me being too lazy to take the 10-20+ minutes it took to edit one photo and make it actually look good. I’m still trying to avoid taking a hiatus because I love this community so much, but there’s a slight chance it might eventually lead to that. Luckily with my NSB challenge starting soon every day im getting more and more motivated because I’m obsessed with the concepts of the sims I’ve created. Hopefully you guys will love them too:oD

3.) MY NSB CHALLENGE:

I’m so sorry about my NSB taking so long!! It’s just super stressful for me. I have to go man-hunting for my poses, the proper cc. Not to mention continuously adding things onto the story. I know that most simmers do this all the time but this is all still very new to me, so please try to understand.

4.) MY MILESTONES:

This is another thing I’ve seriously been procrastinating on, but I really want to make all the milestones I was supposed to have into one big post. (which would be my 250-350 milestones). I’m still deciding on what I should do, but it will come soon along with me being more active, so stay tuned!!

Now that all this is out in the open I’m really excited to turn over a new leaf and be content with the feed I’m putting out there. I hope you guys are too!! 

Thank you if you’ve made it this far and actually read all my rambling, you’re an amazing human being.💞💞

[voidselfshipp]

Proud

Cw: none? Ask to tag

Moots only ok to rb.

Summary: jerico thinks shes gonna have a good nights rest after a particular rough day, her ba has other ideas.

A/n: took absolute creative liberty with hatshepsut. Dont @ me. /hj

Jerico thought she was going to have a goodnights rest, she was looking forward to it. Specially after a long day of non-stop work.

First, she worked on the path she was following,that being the path of thoth, then she helped around the brooklynn house and after that, she got to work on her notes for her upcoming test.

Truthfully, she had no strenght to Keep working hard, she considered procrastination. But no, she figured, she was trying to break out of that bad habit.

But still, she was very much exhausted, as if she used all her magic reservoir, completly burnt out.

As she laid down in bed, her mind pondered if her ancestors were watching over her...

She was a descendant of hatshepsut, one of the most powerfull magicians, she hosted isis, she was able to use a Word of power, "ma'at", the very concept of order, and not die.

And here was a part of her bloodline,feeling Like she cant do anything more, wondering if shes just being lazy.

Jeri's heavy thoughts were giving her a headache. She decided to take a deep breath and close her eyes, hoping she would

1) get some shut eye

2) her Ba would not decide to make any trips.

But of course, her Ba had other things planned.

She found herself in a Palace, in the throne room.

--Jerico, youre finally here...im so excited to be able to finally meet you!-- a womans voice called behind her.

Jers head Turned towards the source of said voice. And there, in a throne was hatshepsut herself, smiling-- come closer, dear heir-- the pharaoh said.

Jerico Walked towards her ancestor, who hugged the living daylights out of her-- oh look at you! Arent you just beautiful!-- hatshepsut pinched her cheeks-- you have beautiful eyes!, oh,and that big brain of yours, arent you a Smart cookie!

Jeri was astonished at her ancestors behavior-- I uh...nice to meet you?

The pharaoh laughed loudly putting her hands on her heirs shoulders-- I am sorry if I catched you off guard-- she said with a smile-- im just happy to meet you! Youre doing my bloodline very proud!

--but...I feel like I havent done enough

Hatshepsut looked at jeri as if asking "are you kidding me" and upon realizing that she was, in fact, not joking, only sighed-- dear gods no! Youre doing enough!

you have your life ahead of you,youre still young, and,so far, youve done nothing but make me proud, every battle, every struggle you conquer, I think to myself, "yep, thats my heir!". The blood that once flowed through my veins now flows through yours, and I couldnt be more proud of having you as part of my family....

Jeri teared up hugging hatshepsut,who hugged back equally as hard--...Thank you, hatshepsut

The pharaoh smiled and ruffled her hair-- I see this spark in your eyes, youre a fierce warrior, since you were born, life threw obstacle after obstacle. Chaos tried to make you give up! But time and time again you've raised from the ground and stood tall, even in the face of danger itself, you were there, ready to give your life so others might live.

And who cares about geography, or failed subjects! That is, in my book, not as important as the courage and kindness you give for and to a world that has shown you nothing but pain and hardship all your life, I am proud of you jerico,nothing Will ever change that...

Jeri started bawling her eyes out, as if her tears were the nile itself. She hugged her ancestor with all her might,and hugging back, hatshepsut comforted her heir.

--Next time youre here, youll catch me up on your life yeah? You need to tell me how you managed to romance 5 gods and the chief lector!

Jeri giggled-- okay, okay i Will..., thank you hatshepsut

The pharaoh shoo her head-- thank you, for being so amazing..., now, you May awake now..

And with that everything went blurry...

Jerico woke up feeling dizzy, Ba trips always fucked her up, specially long ones.

But with a small smile she got out of bed and started her day.

Luckily she could rest, wich meant a quick shower, quick breakfast and a trip in Freak Airlines to Memphis, Tennesse to visit thoth.

The god of knowledge welcomed his parter with Open arms, hugging her like a kid who hugs a plushie they just got.

--Hello, my love-- said the god kissing his girlfriend-- how are you?

--im great!-- she said-- is that pancakes I smell?

Thoth nodded-- yep --he answered--youre in a good mood!

Jeri proceded to tell him about her encounter with hatshepsut, and the loving words she had said to her.

Later that afternoon, she visited amos in the first nome.

She Gently knocked on the Chief Lectors room-- im busy !-- replied amos.

--busy enough to not spend time with me?-- asked jeri

And in a matter of seconds amos opened the door and hugged jerico.

--i always have time for you, my dearest...-- he said making her enter his room and closing the door for some privacy.

Jeri clings to amos as he sits on his bed, his arms wrap around her waist, burying his face on the crook of her neck.

-- I missed you-- said the chief lector with sadness in his tone-- I missed you so much...

--i missed you too ami...-- answered jerico kissing his cheek.

They spent the rest of the day cuddling.

And finally she visited Khonsu.

The moon god was appreciating the view of his appartment in Los Ángeles, looking down at the city.

-- Now thats a view!-- jeri cheered standing besides khonsu.

The moon good looked at his girlfriend and whistled-- this view is alright, you are the Real view

Jerico was wearing a black short under one of his button ups. -- oh come on! Im just wearing my indoor clothes!

-- i do recall that being my shirt youre wearing but no, dearest, youre beautiful! -- he hugged her waist and pulled her closer-- youre in a good mood, I like it!

--well..I had a little chat with hatshepsut last night, and she said some things I needed to hear...

Khonsu nodded-- she was an outstanding figure, and you are an astounding young woman, my love...

--oh arent you a charmer!-- Flirted jerico leaning closer to him.

The Man chuckled and leaned in too, hugging her waist with his other arm-- maybe I am... and youre falling right into my charm..

--as if you werent madly in love with me, khonsu-- jeri teased-- either way...im not complaining

--neither am I, moonlight-- he kissed her and pulled her closer.

That night, jericó rest easily, knowing she made her family and loved ones proud.

[fanfictrashdump]

Queening a Pawn, 20

If you’re new: this is my procrastination fic. It is what I drabble around with when I’m being my worst self, and ignoring all my other WIPs and responsibilities! Enjoy!

X

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Warnings: language, suggestive content (I think nothing terrible), soft fluffiness, two idiots in love.

=

Loki awoke with a sharp inhale. Wild eyes hopped form place to place, taking in the moody lighting and dark woods of his own living quarters. He did not remember getting here. He certainly didn't walk, which meant that, more than likely, Banner had carried him to his room while he was unconscious. He didn't know whether or not he was OK with the idea, but the pounding in his head did not allow him to focus on the quandary. Atop the sheets, Delilah was kneeling beside him, her fingers gliding gently over the collection of scars marring his pale skin.

Despite the fact that he had awoke quite violently, she did not seem to have noticed him. Instead, she was intensely focused on prodding at the circular areas of shiny flesh. His chest felt heavy with sorrow that was not his own and a fear of the unknown prickling at his skull.

His long fingers closing around her own made her start, and she glanced up, cutting her eyes at him, instantly. A lazy smile tilted his mouth at the wide-eyed gaze. "Counting scars to see how many are new will not make you feel better, dove."

"You don't know. Maybe I'm a secret sadist."

"Oh, there is no secret about that, but I rather believe that you enjoy my pain more when it brings pleasure," he riposted without missing a beat. "I have the bite marks to prove it." Delilah did not respond. Instead, she stretched out alongside him and buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. Loki chuckled, turning his head just enough to press a kiss to her crown. "I do not die so easily, darling. Many have tried, none have succeeded."

"That's not true."

"The Titan did not kill me." He drew a finger beneath her chin to cast her eyes up to meet his. "I will always make it back to you, I swear. Even if just to die at your feet."

"Don't… don't say things like that," she mumbled, trying to blink away tears.

"Darling," he whispered, brushing her hair back away from her eyes. They were so terribly vulnerable and open and their emerald hue glinted with her tears. His heart, a part he had foolish thought dead for hundreds of years, twisted painfully. How could he keep her from feeling this way? "My purpose has never been to be safe. Even on Asgard, my well-being was unimportant in relation to the good of the realm. In some cases–"

"No."

When Loki glanced down, Delilah looked like she was livid and his eyebrows slowly rose in a surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Stop… stop talking like you don't matter."

"Love–"

Tears were streaming down her face at this point. "You fucking matter to me. If you died because you decided the greater good was more important than you I would raze the Earth in vengeance. Do you understand?"

Swallowing at the lump in his throat, he nodded.

"Say it."

"Say what, my Queen?"

"Say you're important," she demanded, heatedly. "I need to hear you say it. I know how easy it is for you to ignore what you don't acknowledge. So, say it."

"You know me far too well, I must say." Taking Delilah's hand in his, he raised it to his lips. He kissed her palm and sighed wearily, like a heavy load was set on his shoulders. "I am important, if to no one but you."

"Is that not enough?"

"On the contrary. I'll have to start taking care not to accidentally die. I'd never want you to be upset… or to raze the Earth for my sake." He continued pressing kisses to her palm, seeping in the warmth of her hand and taking solace in it. She was fiery, electric and obstinate. He adored it more than life itself. He coveted her protective nature more than he ever did a throne.

"Hey," she whispered, pulling away from the dungeon he built in his mind. "Where did you go just then? I'm sorry if I upset you."

He smiled "You could never. I just… find it hard to believe I've earned your protection and it throws me for a loop, as it were." With a groan, he sat up against the headboard, pulling her along with him. "I'll make you a promise. For as long as you wear that ring, I'll do everything in my power to come back to you. I can't guarantee I won't take stupid risks for the sake of what is right, but–"

"I'll take it." Delilah brushed his shaggy hair back, undoing knots with her fingers before grasping the dark tresses to pull him towards her. "I don't want to keep you from doing whatever it is you want. I just want you to make sure you spare a thought about whether or not you'd survive afterwards." As if remembering herself, she started. "Oh, one moment."

With another kiss, she hopped off the bed and out the door before he even had the sense to question her. The sound of the front door closing irked him enough to debate whether or not he could physically chase after her. He was Aesir and had improved healing over Midgardians, but that building had done a number on his form and every bone in his corporation ached. The door opened and closed once more before Delilah scurried into the bedroom.

She hopped back onto the bed with a giddy leap, crawling up to the head and sitting back on her heels. "So, between days six and eight of you being entirely MIA, I got antsy and sat down with Tony in his lab. I was going through some of your old files and noticed that we had data about the specific signature your magic leaves behind."

"That is interesting." It sounded like a question rather than a remark.

"That's not the point, Lo. The point is that since we could tell the specific signatures it left behind, maybe we could predict what the magic looks like. Then, if we could do that, the next logical step would be find a way to amplify it."

Loki bobbed his head side to side, weighing out the probabilities with a serious frown. "I suppose it's possible. How would you validate it?"

"Oh, we used Strange's signature as a base model. It worked well to predict his energy." Her expression brightened with the small smirk of pride blossoming at the left corner of his mouth.

"Very clever, indeed, but I am still unsure as to what it all means." For a moment, she fidgeted and the excitement that had been brimming within her a second ago is dimmed with nervousness. "Delilah?" He rarely uses her full name, so it has the desired effect of forcing her to look up, instead of her knotted hands.

"It's stupid…," she trailed off.

"That is invariably untrue. You were excited. Tell me… or perhaps show me is the appropriate request," he amended, seeing her hands twitch tighter around something.

Her fingers loosened fractionally, a golden chain tinkling through her fingers for him to see. He waited patiently for her to reveal her secrets.

"You don't really wear anything, so I didn't… I put it on a chain, but it can also clip onto your lapel or go around your wrist. It just needs to be on you somewhere."

Loki grinned excitedly, leaning forward. "Go on, show me."

With a reluctant groan, she gripped his wrist and deposited the object in his palm, immediately looking elsewhere as she burned red. Along the gold chain rested a golden ring, etched in simple geometric designs like a circuit board. It consisted of a longer circle, twisted and doubled upon itself. He could slip the two bands apart just the slightest bit to slide it onto a lapel or the chest plate of his armor. Small pin mechanisms belied the ability of pulling it apart and expanding what he now noticed were two twin snakes.

"I'm gonna go," Delilah irrupted, suddenly, flushed from head to toe and feeling awkward at his quiet contemplation. Loki pounced from bed, tackling her onto the floor before she had even made it to the bedroom threshold. Caged between his arms, he trailed kisses from her neck to her jaw until ending on her lips, giving a contented sigh when she responded in kind.

"How would you prefer me to wear it?" She shrugged, looking awkward again. He nipped at her pulse point in protest for the shift. "Certainly you had an initial design in mind." He hummed against her throat in thought. "You're practical, which is why you've added the chain. Easy to keep around, minimal effort in minding it. While on the lapel offers visual advantages, it would look out of place with the clothes I've been wearing as of late." An open-mouthed kissed burned the hollow of her throat. "And while you are all for practicality, you are also fiercely possessive. Don't bother, you know you are," he added in a haughty tone when she went to protest. "So, your initial design was for my hands–visible and apparent. The others were an afterthought."

Another nip, much more forceful landed on her collarbone and she bucked into him in surprise. He repeated the action with a growl, pressing into her. "A ring. It was a ring. I didn't want your wrist to get caught on anything, Jesus!" A moan cut through her defense. "You don't wear jewelry and I didn't want you to think I was being stupid and sentimental with a ring, so– oh god." Delilah shuddered against him as Loki hitched one of her legs over his hip.

"I love stupid and sentimental," he husked. "Our whole relationship can be described as stupid and sentimental." He pressed a kiss behind her ear. "You're going to put that ring on me and then I'm going to take you like I almost died on what should have been an easy mission. Yes?" Delilah barely nodded before Loki eased off, pulling them up to sit beside each other. With shaking hands, she freed ring from chain and slipped it over his finger. With a wicked grin, he swooped down and threw her over his shoulder, gracefully slipping onto his feet and towards the bathroom. There was a warm bath with both their names on it.