#cw controversial topics

[themostop]

Y’know, the really fun thing about “AI”s like ChatGPT is that they’re free, easily accessible, and interactive. Like, I’ve had a lot of fun messing around with them and writing stories with them, but I wouldn’t really want to share most of the stuff I’ve made because a lot of it is just wish fulfillment/fan fiction stuff that I know I’m not gonna get anywhere else. And even then I end up having to just mentally ignore a lot of what the ai writes anyway. I basically just use it either to flesh out a few story ideas I have, write something quick but stupid to get it out of my head, or just have it do a bit of the leg work of getting started writing something when I’m too lazy to start writing myself. But none of its really that good. What I’m trying to say is, I wouldn’t want to pay money for it, at least not the price of movie ticket or streaming service subscription. Maybe, like, ten dollars fifteen tops if it had a lot of cool features. But even then, the fun comes from being able to push the story in whatever direction you want. It’s like if your action figures could move on their own, but just a little bit. I certainly wouldn’t want to pay money to see what someone else wrote with ai. Like, it’s already just okay and kinda cool, but the main appeal to me at least is being able to interact with it and make the story go the way I want it to go. If you take that away, why the heck would I pay money for it? Even if the ai improves and the quality of the writing goes up… it’s just not impressive. Like, I’d know (hopefully if we can get some proper laws and regulations in place) if it was written by ai that it didn’t cost that much time or money to produce. So why would I ever pay any amount of money to see it. At least when I go to see a Disney movie or watch a Netflix show I know there were some people who worked hard on it and my money is going to them. (Yeah yeah, I know a lot ends up in the higher ups pockets, but do you at least get the point I’m trying to make?)

The few times I do enjoy seeing what other people make with ai, like on YouTube and stuff, it’s with the older models that aren’t as good. The entertainment comes from how bad it is. And I still wouldn’t want to pay money for it. I’m only enjoying it because it’s free.

The point I’m trying to get at here is that even if movie and television companies tried to replace their writers with ai… why would we have any reason to support them. The biggest reason not to pirate something is so that the people who worked hard on it get paid, but if barely anyone worked on it and the work that was done was minimal… why bother paying for it? My real worry is that companies will start making ai written stuff but not say it’s ai written and then sell it at full price. But I hope people would still quickly notice something wrong with the credits or the money balancing or something, you know? And then people just would stop trusting companies. And besides, why go see Disney’s ai written remake of frozen 2 with deep faked cgi humans played by text-to-speech… when you can already make that yourself and better yet have it play out the way you want it to? Or even better, watch the free version someone uploaded to YouTube that’s written by someone who’s not afraid to write it for a queer audience.

I think the best way for a company to make a product out of ai that they can actually sell would be to make sort of curated ais that have been trained on a ton of works that all take place in the same fantasy/sci-fi realm and then you can write any story you want within that world. That might be something I’m will to pay a bit for. But even then, you’d still need writers to make all the works it’s trained on.

Now all of this is naturally assuming we get laws and regulations in place regarding ai. If something is made by ai, it should need to be stated clearly and plainly. AIs like Open AI’s ChatGPT should stay free for everyone. YOU SHOULD NEED TO GET PERMISSION TO USE SOMEONE’S WORK TO TRAIN AN AI AND YOU SHOULD HAVE TO PAY THEM FOR IT. And a lot of this (from what I understand) is part of what the writer’s strike is about. I’m only throwing this on in case you somehow thought I was saying that I think the writers strike is for nothing. I don’t think that. I fully support the writers strike. The point of this post is just to call out how unprofitable ai should be for companies. The only way they’re gonna be able to make money off of it is if they trick you into thinking it’s worth the same prices or more than a non-ai movie (don’t fall for it) sell lots of them at a cheep but still marked up price (once again, don’t fall for it. Think about who your money would even be going to), or the force you with no other options but to buy things that way because they make ai no longer publicly accessible and make it so that and independent writers can’t compete with their prices (don’t let them. Support indis if you can, pirate if you can’t.)

So yeah, I just don’t see how companies plan on profiting from ai when the largest appeal of it is it’s freedom both in terms of price and use. (Once again, unless they “cheat.”)

[loonfull-sonnetzz]

Incoming Harry Potter Rant

Okay so recently after hearing about JK Rowling’s atrocious h0l0caust denial tweet she had made and reblogged a post about her here on Tumblr, it got me wondering. 

Is it okay to interact with FANWORKS of Harry Potter?

Because for a month or so I kept having marauder’s content on my FYP on TikTok and it had sparked my interest since I’ve heard there’s good fics of it (such as ‘All the Young Dudes’) and I’ve gotten nostalgic about Harry Potter and missed the whole whimsical thing it used to have. I want to support smaller writers/artists rather than a billionaire terf.

But the thing about Harry Potter is that it was never good in the first place. The content inside the books is literal garbage (the goblins, werewolves as a weird metaphor for predatory gay men, the names of POC characters etc etc), all of it is fundamentally bad. Nevermind the fact, as I said earlier, that the author of these poorly-written books is a billionaire h0l0caust denying terf.

BTW I don’t plan on rereading the books, rewatching the movies, or buying her merch. But is it also bad to support anyone that stills writes and talks about Harry Potter (for example; fanfic writers and artists)? 

Genuinely, I want to know other people’s stance on this. I already feel guilty for entertaining the idea of indulging with anything related to Harry Potter as a transman, but I want to know.

[i-am-trans-gwender]

Internet discourse be like "Stop sexualizing the Iranian Hostage Crisis" and I'm like who the fuck was doing that in the first place?

[rainbowsky]

Sorry I've taken so long to address this, I've had a very busy day and didn't have time to finish this post (which I started yesterday).

I'm talking, of course, about the incredibly controversial situation surrounding DD right now. I've gotten some messages about it so I figured I'd give my thoughts in a bigger post so that I don't have to keep repeating myself.

(CW: racism, spoilers FPU)

I know that by now most people are aware of the situation, but I'm going to start from square one for those who are just catching up on the topic.

There is a scene in Formed Police Unit where Chinese UN peacekeeping troops need to rescue a group of citizens who are surrounded by terrorists. In order to accomplish this they disguise themselves as people from the community. This being Africa, the troops were disguised using blackface.

Yes, I am saying that DD and his castmates appear in the film in blackface.

I am not going to post a picture of that here. It's just something I can't post on my blog. I understand that many of you will want to see for yourself so I'll link a clip of the scene, which was posted on Weibo. Please be aware before clicking - this is full-on blackface. Always take care of yourselves, and if you think it might be upsetting to you don't click. You don't need to see it to be a 'good fan'.

Background

For those who may not know, this movie was filmed years ago, in 2021. During those years I have seen many anti attacks against DD, claiming that he is racist and has worn blackface. Here's the photo that was circulating back then.

At the time I thought the makeup that he was wearing was likely anti-reflective black paint or camouflage paint such as is used by snipers (which he played in the film). I assumed that he was wearing his own hoodie over part of a military costume, because he was wearing a cammo shirt and what might have been combat trousers.

I was certainly not expecting full-on blackface from this movie.

There's no getting around it - this is extremely difficult to look at.

Blackface is widely viewed as offensive and racist. It shouldn't be hard to understand why. Putting on another person's ethnicity like a costume is deeply insensitive, particularly when you consider that BIPOC (black, indigenous, and other people of color) are so frequently targeted, exploited and marginalized. For those in positions of privilege and power to put on the appearance of the people who they oppress and exploit... it's just shocking and awful.

Blackface is most frequently talked about in an American context, but it's actually a problem globally - including in China. More on all that here.

The film

I have not actually seen the film, so I don't know much about the context beyond what is being discussed in the fandom. As I said earlier, in the film a group of UN police officers need to infiltrate an area in the community, and they take on disguises in order to do so.

In promotional media this film is being presented as based on true stories from real missions*. It seems the situation in question really happened on a Chinese peacekeeping mission, and the UN troops disguised themselves as black citizens in order to infiltrate and extract the endangered captives.

*I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt on this because it doesn't change how I feel it should have been handled.

This is important context that is being conveniently left out of much of the backlash about this situation. People are outright claiming that DD plays a black person in the movie - that he wore blackface to perform a role that a black actor could have played. This simply isn't true, and people making these claims are antis and liars. There's simply no excuse for not knowing the full context.

Having said that, I don't really think it matters how it ended up in the film. I do not think there is such a thing as a palatable or appropriate use of blackface. In this day and age it is nearly universally understood to be racist, and it's extremely controversial.

I can understand if they were trying to be accurate to the mission that they were portraying, but surely there are other ways they could have accomplished this scene (perhaps with the clothing but not the blackface). 'Historical accuracy' isn't as important as cultural sensitivity, not by any stretch of the imagination. In the interest of respecting audiences they could have adapted the scene to make the use of blackface unnecessary.

I really see no excuse for anything like this in 2024.

Audience reactions

Chinese sensibilities around these topics are very different from what we are used to in the West.

According to fan repos audiences initially didn't recognize any of the actors, and once it became apparent that they were in disguise, laughter erupted around the room. In fact, most fans are laughing a lot at the photos and video even on social media (although some Chinese netizens have been upset by it and have voiced complaints to various stakeholders).

It is also being widely discussed on Chinese social media as an exciting scene of heroism in the film.

I feel the need to point out that the laughter and mockery is a huge part of the harm, here. As if it's not bad enough that these actors are performing in blackface and presenting a perversion of black ethnicity, it also becomes an opportunity for audiences to mock and disrespect black people. It's become an opportunity for social media to be filled with racist jokes and mockery.

Roadshow statements

There have been some clips circulating of PR and roadshow moments with black cast members and some black audience members who have spoken up in support of the film and to thank the cast and crew for telling the story. Here's one example.

International fans have been dismissing those statements as ignorant or coerced, which I think is offensive and deeply fucked up. There's no planet on which I'm going to - with a totally straight face - say that a black person's response to the movie is not legitimate just because it doesn't comport with my own view.

This is a complex issue and there are inevitably going to be a lot of different perspectives. I hope people won't exacerbate the problem by supplanting black voices on this issue with their own, no matter what's being said. If there's any manipulation going on, let's assume it was in their choosing supportive black figures to speak for the film rather than claim that the black spokespeople are insincere.

China has a lot of issues with racism, there's no doubt about it. It's a huge part of why so many people try to whiten their skin, or why they mock each other when their skin gets tanned/darker. There is a lot of sinister, fucked up stuff going on in China around race - both in the country and in their dealings with other countries.

But we can't claim to speak for black people in China, particularly when they are speaking for themselves! I would hope this is extremely obvious!

Where's DD in all this?

It's understandable that bystanders will react to what they're seeing and might immediately deem it unacceptable - and DD along with it. Their reactions are valid, but as fans I hope that we can look at him with a bit more empathy. I hope that we can take a moment to try to see things from his perspective.

DD has been interested in and an avid fan of black culture since he was a small child. We've all seen how much he immerses himself in hip hop, street dance and the accompanying music and fashion. And yes, he's been accused of cultural appropriation in the past for wearing locs and durags.

However, I think fans need a bit of perspective here to get a sense of where DD might be coming from. Here's a guy who loves black culture, who has close friends who are black, who regularly works with black artists and who supports black artists, in a culture where racism against black people is prevalent and often extreme.

I think DD would probably be amazed to hear the accusations of racism against him. He likely has very few people in his orbit who are anywhere near as supportive of or as closely connected to black people as he is. He likely stands out in his circle as being particularly into black culture and connected with black artists, and probably regularly faces ignorant questions or digs from people around him about his close association with black artists and culture.

Not just because of racism alone, but also due to the racist parallels the government tends to draw between black culture, street dance, hip hop, etc. and criminality/moral degradation*. It's likely that ignorant people in his orbit have expressed concern or wariness toward him because of these associations.

*That is, until breakdancing became an Olympic sport, then they were suddenly onboard with some of it.

I'm not saying that he doesn't have a lot of learning to do (and if this situation becomes what I think it might become, he'll have a big opportunity to do so), I'm just saying that his ignorance isn't mean-spirited. He's coming at this from a totally different angle than any of us are, and he is immersed in a totally different cultural perspective than our own. In his world, his interest likely makes him a bit of an anomaly.

So those painting him as a horrible racist... it's just not how I see it.

The element of choice

I've heard many people say that DD 'didn't have any choice' about this role, that turning it down would not have been an option or that he would be under some kind of threat if he didn't take this role. I don't agree with that characterization of things. I don't think it's quite as 'gun to the head' as a lot of fans paint it.

I think it's more likely that he simply didn't realize that the role would involve blackface when he accepted it, or that he thought that blackface in this context - to infiltrate a terrorist cell and save civilians - would be fine. We don't need to depict China as forcibly compelling actors to take unwanted roles if we want to make sense of this. There are simpler, more logical explanations.

DD wouldn't have been the one deciding how to depict the scene - he didn't have that power in 2021 - but I also doubt he would have had a major problem with it given everything we know.

We must overcome our Western tendency to see things only from our own perspective. This has a totally different cultural context in China, and the voices we listen to about it should not be issuing exclusively from white faces that are not at ground zero of this situation.

Final thoughts

This film has had me worried from day one. I think most people have been expecting it to be full of offensive portrayals and propagandistic fuckery. There are so many ways in which a Chinese film about the UN is potentially a sticky, tricky mess. This blackface thing is likely just one problem on a towering pile of problems.

However, I'm not going to sugarcoat this - this has the potential to be a real shitshow for DD, and I am concerned. Especially if this film gets an international release.

We need to brace ourselves, because I don't think this is going to just disappear. DD has endorsements with international brands, and this could definitely cause backlash for those brands unless the issue is addressed and the scenes removed. There's no planet on which brands like Chanel and Lacoste can afford to have one of their spokespeople plastered everywhere in blackface.

If this film gets an international release and those scenes are left intact, it's possible he will lose some brands.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but let's face it - things like this have consequences, and that's why it's so important for producers and artists to be sensitive about what they're portraying.

While I think there's some endorsement risk here for DD, and the potential loss of some international fans, I want to be clear about one thing: I don't think this will threaten his career overall. In China this just isn't an issue in the way it is internationally.

I do hope the film team addresses this issue in some way, ideally by removing the scenes. They just finished doing a massive edit to remove ZZH from the film, surely they can handle something like this. But let's not hold our breath...

Everyone has the right to make up their minds about DD. As I've often said, being a turtle isn't for the faint of heart. That's not just because turtles are frequent targets for bullies, or because we have to constantly live with uncertainty and doubt.

Being an international turtle also isn't for the faint of heart because there are a lot of cultural and political minefields to navigate, and many ideological differences to adapt to. There's a huge learning curve and a lot of unknowns, and turtles who want to survive have to make peace with the fact that we and the boys are from different worlds in many ways. We may never know where they really stand on issues that are important to us.

However, in this case I feel confident that I know where DD's heart is on this issue. He simply doesn't hold hatred, disrespect or disdain for black people. Quite the contrary.

I think we'd all just feel a lot better if he had a good grasp on how to be a better ally.

And while we're waiting for that, I think we should put our money where our mouths are and learn more about these issues ourselves, both in China and locally at home. We want DD to be a better person; let's be better people too.

Edit: more on this here.

[genericpuff]

I'm not sure if anyone else has made this connection, but I've never seen it mentioned before. I think, similar to Lolita, RS was also inspired by the art of Trevor Brown. His work has a lot of young girls and medical fetish themes (to put it lightly) in a style reminiscent of RS's earlier stuff.

sigh

CW: medical fetish art often depicting children / child-like characters and medical equipment such as needles, gas masks, etc. seriously don't hit the jump if medical equipment or young girls in nurse's outfits or with open wounds makes you squeamish, I will not blame you for turning around now LOL

OP I was about to just... dismiss this. Wave it away as a funny coincidence that is indeed funny, but doesn't have any real evidence to back it up. I had a post typed up in response already declaring this, after which posting I was gonna move on with my day, work on Rekindled, play some XIV.

Because sure, there are a lot of resemblances between Trevor Brown's work and Rachel's old art, but nothing that can't be dismissed in good faith as a simple coincidence of being within the same genre of fetish art (first three are Trevor's, last three are Rachel's).

But then that little voice in the back of my head whispered in my ear, "Puff. You should double check. Just to be sure. Do your due diligence." And I once again found myself on the precipice of the rabbithole that somehow becomes deeper every time I jump. This time though, I knew it couldn't be that bad, I mean, I had enough confidence in knowing that there's no fucking way she listed Trevor Brown as one of her favorite artists-

God fucking dammit. How in the world did I miss this? I mean, I suppose I missed it simply because I'm not familiar with the works of Trevor Brown, but you can bet your ass I became familiar with it in my digging. Yeah, this guy is a supreme creep.

Again, I am not going to accuse Rachel of being a pedophile because that's just not an accusation that should be thrown around without undeniable evidence. What I will say, which has largely remained the same - though even more confidently now than ever before - is that she's clearly someone who took a lot of inspiration and influence from very problematic artists when she was young (I'm talking in her late teens which has me wondering if she started making medical fetish art when she was still a minor-) and then, BEST guess, she started to drop the medical fetish stuff around the time she went to college (which was also the same time she dropped The Doctor Pepper Show, which later got reworked into The Doctor Foxglove Show which was a lot less reminiscent of her medical fetish style from the early 2000's, but still had some of her usual preferences at play) and that's led up to today where she's drawing comics that look like they're for kids but tackle heavy adult subject matter in the worst way possible that straight up perpetuates grooming.

No matter how much experience I have with this already, no matter how much I think I've already seen, I always find more, and this time was no different. In fact - though unrelated to the original topic - thanks to this one fucking ask, I even found the full Mads Mikkelson comic with the completed caption. You know, that one.

And apparently Mads Mikkelson did very much replace her crush on Jeremy Irons.

Who's Jeremy Irons?

Oh yeah.

I just... y'all I can't. This is un-fucking-real. I'm gonna go take a shower, I need to scrub myself off of this 😭

[vesperane]

dirty little secret

cw: age gap. leon is 21 and reader is in her late 30s. sooo. yeah. potential cheating? probably. awkward flirting. no beta reading. idek what to add ;(

a lil note: controversial topic but listening to artemas’ song i couldn’t help but think of re2 leon and the reader in her late thirties who is an aspiring milf... so yes... here it is the first chapter of the series and idek how many chapters it will take me to finish this bc lately im just feeling intense disorientation?? anywayz i just want some angst and some yearning and it’s all about rookie leon with his questionable mommy kink & his sad big blue eyes.

chapter 1

“Leon, ventilate your stinking room!" 

The morning routine begins with a refreshing shower and Leon’s combing his hair when the voice of Giselle, the biweekly working housekeeper, jars him out of his thoughts. He huffs and puffs since the song he was humming got halved halfway through. 

“Jesus, man. It’s not like I’m running away,” he rants to himself. He dumps his comb on his bedside drawer, barely finding a gap between the volumes of books. Careless and haphazard.

The morning breeze caresses his face when he reaches for his window and cranes it open; the zephyr brings a sweet repose after his long slumber. 

The fresh aroma of autumn rain wafts through the city. It rained non-stop last night while he slept soundly all night. The best time of the year—Leon’s absolute favorite season—had come barging through the door. Lovely morning. Gives him a certain contentment. 

Leon’s eyes, lit by the pale blue and cerulean purity as he surveys the block, fix on the move-in truck. It had been rumored for a few days that there would be other residents moving into the neighborhood. His curiosity about this new family was naturally piqued, considering he hadn’t personally heard much about the new family moving in next door. But all he could see were men working, packing things into the lift, and a few weary groups of old and some young faces. 

Maybe he should go down and help them. Sounds like a good idea. 

He didn’t have much to do on the weekend anyway. Except that the rumbling, fluttery growl of his stomach thwarts his plan of introducing himself. Breakfast time. Shouldn’t be too much trouble to grab a bite to eat right now, and head downstairs, he thinks to himself as he flaps the window shut. 

In the kitchen, he helps Giselle with breakfast, pours himself a fresh cup of coffee, and there’s an empty seat at the table. Somebody is out of the usual, all-too-cloying family picture. His dad is the missing part. 

It doesn’t take long. Leon knows his dad has already gone out, probably to the station. 

“Wasn’t dad on patrol yesterday?" 

“Yeah, kid, but he didn’t show up yesterday. Tried ringing him, sure, but Mr. Kennedy didn’t pick up the phone.” Giselle ruffles Leon’s hair as she always does before she settles the breakfast plate in front of him. 

With a gruff retort, Leon smooths back the hair that has fallen in front of his eyes. God, he hates when they fuck up his perfectly washed hair.

Now don’t get him wrong, Leon sees Giselle as the granny he never had—she’s a part of the Kennedies and a sweet aunty who knows some good cookie recipes, but this kind of cuddly gesture is starting to grate on him now that he’s all grown up. It’s been like this for the last couple of years, since he hit puberty, so to speak. 

“Why are you talking to me like I'm a 12-year-old kid?” It’s hard to comprehend, really. Leon isn’t a 12-year-old kid anymore—he’s a goddamned adult, and he thinks he should be treated like one. 

“Because your hair is always soft, my sweet boy.”

“Whatever.” He waves it off abruptly, but his cheeks do flush. 

“The folk moving in the next door got a boy just like you. Oh, how adorable. Unlike you, he thanked me when I brought some cookies and didn’t pout at me like you always do." Giselle grouses to herself as she walks over to the sink, to the dishes. Typical and ungrateful grandma. 

“Giselle, have you ever heard of the term first impression? The guy probably did that so he’d paint himself as a good neighbor. Jeez!” Leon bites into his morsel of food with a know-it-all lecture. So dramatic, as per usual.

“That still makes him a better boy than you, Leon. Have I ever told you before that you’re growing more like your father as you get older?" 

“Oh, come on. Don’t play the granny card with me now,” Leon says facetiously, but inwardly he knows Giselle’s making a valid point. It’s as if it’s Leon’s instinctive nature to emulate his father, even if he doesn’t want to, not necessarily anyway. But the motivation to be a cop just like his dad is pressing, driving. Knowing that the world he lives in is laden with acidic and poisonous clouds in lieu of rosy skies, Leon never lost his dreamy streak; he was welcomed into a warm home by this very cop when he was a little boy, before he even knew his own name. 

Little by little, Leon treads a path he has decided to take so that every person in trouble, not least kids without a mother or a father, can emerge with that feeling of penchant. Sure, it makes him uneasy; sometimes it’s hard to walk, but it’s always better than nothing. For many more Leon’s to save, to protect. Call it Pollyannaism, call it overly optimizing, even a White Savior complex—Leon wouldn’t mind. He has a solid goal, and that’s it. 

The pandemonium he encounters when he comes downstairs after breakfast is more chaotic than he expected.

“Jesus, a hell of a mess,” he maffles, sotto voce. 

Leon paves the way towards a burly man carrying a vast television set, its screen packed securely in bubble wrap. His eyes, searching for the owners of the apartment, fell on you for the first time—a woman he had never seen before—when he was watching this blight from his window this morning. 

With your back straight to him and a notepad in your hand, you’re recounting something to another staff member. Pencil skirt, button-up shirt ensemble. Ohh, professionalism is talking now.

You must be the daughter of the proprietor of the house or something, in Leon’s opinion. Maybe he should introduce himself before jumping into the conversation. 

Without further ado, he approaches you from behind and calmly pays a detached ear to your conversation with the second worker, who listens to your every word with a perpetual tartness on his face, as if he’s constantly sucking on an acerbically godawful lemon. 

“As I said, the leather on the canapés is authentic, very very prone to ripping. All I ask for is your undivided attention, sir.” 

“Of course, ma’am,” the worker sheepishly gives partiality to the subject, and, relieved that at least your belongings are safe, you look over at the... boy who stands next to you. His powder blue, beaming eyes are the first thing you notice. 

“Hey,” he begins, confidently, to say the least. A sweet attempt. Who could this be? 

���Do I know you?” 

“Oh, yeah— I meannn...” He opens his mouth, and with your proverbial raised eyebrow and probing gaze, Leon simply freezes. He should have known from the start that he was about to engage in a conversation with a hard-ass girl. 

He clears his throat. Awkward tension is killing the both of you, but you do a better job of hiding your emoticons than he does.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Say hello to the boy next door. I’m Leon Kennedy.” Undeterred, precocious Leon still does what he has in mind: cracking a more sophomoric joke with a raised hand for a handshake. 

“Oh!” You draw on. No need to get rude now. 

His eyes twinkle and agleam. And you give your name to the boy you consider to be the next-door neighbor’s son, shaking his hand cordially. Piece of cake, baby; he knows your name now. 

“It’s been an exhausting day, Leon. Please forgive me if I started with a rude attitude.” You release his hand and then smack your forehead with the hand holding the notebook. Leon thinks it’s very amiable—the moue on your face and the way you switch off the bitching mode almost immediately. 

“No problem, no problem.” Leon raises his hands, palms open and facing outwards. 

“Man, where are your parents? Are they running off with all the work on you?” 

Your parents? Parents?

Aww, that boy’s got it all so wrong. Normally, if you weren’t so knackered, you would have burst out laughing. Anyway, keep it as a memory that you will remember later and laugh your head off. 

“My parents are on vacation in California, Leon." 

“What?” His jaw slacks open. “That’s cruel, damn.” He shakes his head in negativity, as though he has heard the world’s most insipid news. 

“Sure, of course, dear. Only, I must tell you, as the woman of the house, I can take care of a small house relocation.” You cross your arms beneath your chest, tucking them close. 

A pause.

Okay, did you really call him dear and, oh, so randomly? And why are you talking like you’re a character out of those grievous novels?

He’s tense. You’re making Leon reconsider everything he’s done and endured as the numskull he believes himself to be.

The what? The lady of the house? What’s a what? 

You’re married?

...

You’re married.

And most importantly, was Leon mindlessly flirting with a married woman? A chick, actually, just look at you! That, however, isn’t the point. 

His pupils are pinpoint; his blues are narrow and indigo spheres. The poor boy is in a state of sheer perplexity. 

“Holy shit!” His reaction doesn’t last long to be blurted out of his plump lips; it’s visceral, and the picture is unbelievably ridiculous to follow. 

“You’ve got to be kidding. You barely look in your twenties. Ahem! Well, you look great, ma’am.” He mumbles again and again; he’s rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Where is his initial and boyish verve now? 

Alas, you let him compose himself. Let the poor boy take a breath, right? 

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” you interrupt, so that the boy who’s fiddling uneasily with the fabric of his jacket sleeve will feel a little better. You don’t want to look like a scary and heartless witch in his eyes, anyway. 

“Heh,” he snorts, but futilely. It’s not a pleasant feeling—the guilt wracking fumes swelling deep inside his belly and clenching his muscles in a huge balloon that will eventually implode and burst. 

“Anyway,” he says resolutely; there’s no need to drag it out any further. Let this little talk be a funny, unforgettable, and endearing first impression for both of you. 

“There seems to be a lot of stuff here. Thought I’d drop by to help you out with those,” Leon smiles, all warm and sincere. Playing the role of a wonderful and helpful neighbor, a hero, is his favorite sport. 

“I never turn down a kind helping hand.” 

And you’re up for it. 

With your hands on your hips, you take a cursory glance around and tip your head at the rows of plants in large pots on the floor. 

“I’d be truly grateful if you could help me take these up to the living room. I’ll need them watered, those poor, poor lovelies.” Your eyes fall on his blues again, and it feels gratifying to capture that sheen of sparkle in them. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He... salutes you.

Alright... Boy with a goody-goody attitude. 

You don’t have to tell him twice. Carefully and effortlessly, Leon lifts two heavy pots (show off!), almost child-sized, and you follow him into the elevator with the tiny cactus succulents in your hands. 

part 2?

[the-guilty-writer]

So Much

Request from anon: Hi if your comfortable with it do you think you could do like goth teen reader who scared to come out as gay to her father or the group. Who their father is doesn't really matter. I can barely find fics like this, and if your not comfortable with the topic that's completely fine. Thanks

Aaron Hotchner x teen!reader

Summary: reader comes out to their dad as gay and his reaction is not what they expected.

A/N: *extreme sarcasm* Gill writes a character differently than expected… no way?! In all seriousness though, my approach to Hotch’s reaction might be controversial, but I wanted to capture how I think he expresses love. There is a happy ending of course <3 and Happy Pride everybody. Everyone is welcome here and I care for every single one of you.

This is a request, but is a contribution to the PRIDE CHALLENGE

CW: Haley is reader’s mom and she is in here a fair amount but no mention of reader’s appearance, lots of up and down emotions, Hotch’s reaction could bring up feelings about the sad reality of the safety of the world for the LGBTQ+ community

---

You looked yourself up and down in the mirror, trying your best to look casual. You forced your wringing hands to your sides, though they still trembled. A large exhale released some of the shoulder tension, but not enough. Any tell in your body language would be easily caught onto by your dad; Aaron Hotchner wasn't the BAU Unit Chief for nothing.

For weeks now, you’d been rehearsing the composition of your posture in front of a mirror while thinking about the words you were going to say. You had the speech perfected when you were staring at your bedroom ceiling in the dark alone. When you practiced it out-loud, you stumbled over a word or two, which was better than it had been at the beginning; your jaw would lock up in anxiety, unable to get out any words at all.

The first time they slipped past your lips, just for you, it had felt like freedom - in an empty school bathroom you looked yourself in the eyes.

“I’m gay.”

And just like that, the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders.

“I’m gay,” you had repeated to yourself, and that time it made you smile.

The time after that, it made you laugh. You said it until you were practically dancing alone in the space, feeling so light, so free after so long hiding who you were, even to yourself.

Coming out to someone for the first time wasn’t even on your mind when your best friend walked into the bathroom to find you. You’d been so high on joy that there was nothing stopping you from telling them, and having them join in on your dance. You considered yourself lucky that the first time happened on accident. There was no room to hide from at least one person in your life. You were met with their support and it seemed like it would have been easy to tell the other important people in your life.

It hadn’t been.

You weren’t sure why— you’d grown up in an open-minded, loving family. Not once had a seed of doubt been planted in your head that they would reject you, but there was always the dreaded what if? that crossed your mind. The infinitely small chance that it wouldn’t be okay to them held you back.

It felt silly - almost stupid - how many weeks it had taken to look at the photo of your mother that sat on your nightstand and whisper to her in a trembling voice, “Mom, I’m gay.”

She had been dead for years. There was no risk of disapproval, being looked at differently, even of her ever loving you less. But it was the first time coming out to someone felt like it mattered.

All you could do was hold the frame to your chest and cry silently in the dark, imagining that she was there to wrap you in her arms, hearing her sweet voice speak the last words she ever told you: “I love you so much.”

That was the silent promise you held onto as you padded silently past your brother’s room and to the living room. You settled your hand on the outside of your pants pocket where you had been carrying around a small picture of her for weeks now. I love you so much.

“Hey, Jack’s in bed and you don’t have school tomorrow, so I was thinking we could stay up late and watch a new movie.” Your dad came into the living room, dressed in a casual tee shirt and shorts, just like it was any other day. It wasn’t just any other day.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You swallowed down bile.

“You want popcorn?” he asked.

Part of you wanted to explode - to forego the monologue you’d been planning for weeks now. How could Hotch not see the stiffness to your posture and worry in your eyes? Could the man who profiled people for a living truly not see how his own child wasn’t acting normal? But all you could manage was a “Sure,” and he left for the kitchen.

The anger dissipated when he left, and you found yourself sitting on the couch, fumbling with the remote in shaking hands. You scrolled through the titles, landing on the one you wanted and sat. Never had you felt so stiff in your own home.

Your dad walked in with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and two cans of soda in the other. He handed one to you and you took it, murmuring a thanks under your breath. That’s when he paused.

“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you and put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

In a sudden rush of anxiety, you grabbed it and wedged it into the small space between your leg and his, where it always was during movie nights so both of you could reach. Except now, you felt the need to have a physical barrier between the two of you. Maybe you felt the salty snack could soften the blow of what you were about to tell him, or maybe you just needed to feel that normalcy in case it changed everything.

“I’m uh-” the well scripted, even more well rehearsed words were nowhere to be found inside your head. You sighed. “Dad, I want to uh… tell you something.”

“What is it?” He was looking at you concerned. Still, Aaron Hotchner’s “look of concern��� was ever intense. You thought about your mom’s gentle eyes, her soothing voice...

I love you so much.

“I’m gay.”

A beat of silence.

Numb anxiety caused you to turn to face your father, but you couldn’t read his expression, not with the surge of fear that had taken over your brain.

That moment seemed to last forever - you, staring at him, searching the line of his brow or the curve of his mouth for any reaction. Him, staring back at you…

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked, taking a second to comprehend his words, working through the tension. “Uh, yes?”

“Has anyone tried to hurt you?” Your dad’s eyes shifted to gaze down your arms to your knuckles.

“What- no! Of course not.” You shifted in your seat and Hotch’s eyes came back to your face. “Dad, didn’t you hear what I just told you?”

“Yes,” he said. “I need to know that nobody has hurt you.” He paused. “The world isn’t always nice to people who don’t fit their ideals. You have to promise that you’ll call me if you ever feel like you’re in danger.”

And that was that - your father’s version of I love you so much:

I would die before I ever let someone hurt you simply for being you.

“I promise, dad,” you said, holding back tears, though a few must have slipped down your cheeks because he raised a gentle hand to wipe them away. “So you don’t- you aren’t-”

He shook his head. “I care that you’re happy, and that you’re safe.”

“I’m happy, dad,” you said, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “And I’m safe.”

He wrapped a gentle arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a hug; the place you would always feel and be the most secure in the world.

“I love you,” you told him quietly.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “So much.”

[pasteilian]

CARRD PLZ READ

My content may include disturbing imagery or gore, or it may include difficult subject matter. It may also discuss topics such as dealing with menstrual/mental health/depression, etc. These themes could also be evident in my writing. All tags will include appropriate content warnings (CW/TW).

All of my fan content is self-indulgent. I don't usually focus on canon much, so if that's something you're really interested in, you probably won't enjoy my type of art. I do my own thing, and that's basically all you're gonna get from me.

Please do not bother me with controversies or problems that don't involve me. I don't consider myself pro or anti-. I'm a grown adult with my own morals and thoughts on things, and I prefer to avoid internet wars. You can find more information about me on my carrd.

Art tag - #pastriesart💌 pastries fanart💌

Moot + chat tags - #welcome new pastry💌🧁

#pastrieschat💌 #​pastries moots💌 #​pastries Babbles💌

[sprinkleonthatcriticism]

Seeing the twitter dorks calling Jack out for "grooming" a minor is really annoying considering that I'm a grooming victim myself and I know for hell it ISN'T grooming Yippee-boi CW// Mentions of child grooming

It all started when Yippee shared a piece of fanart of Lucifer's oc, Idot-boy (who is a hypersexual sona like is meant to represent Jack's traumas just as his hypersexuality due to it's past experiences with SA and incest) so Yippee drew xe's hypersexual sona with it's sona.

I look at the image and yeah I can see where people got their "It's suggestive" from because Yippee's sona does look pretty suggestive but at the end of the day, it's just a sona that is use to cope with mental health just as hypersexuality.

And people are trying to use this comment as a catch 20 with Jack. Which, I don't see how that is grooming??? It's just

And then there's this (context: the person is Hyuuuuk who by judging from their profile, they happily call theirselves a huge Birdie hater which is pretty pathetic, oh and in the comment, they simply tell Jack to not talk to the minor and this was under this art which was posted before the hypersexual one).

People on twitter been using that comment as a "gotcha" but they don't actually do research and realize that "Hey, this comment is actually from the minor's different art piece NOT the other one" and maybe if they did, they would realize that Jack isn't being weird.

Like, maybe if Koish explain what the problem is Jack would understand because this isn't the first time where it didn't know he did something controversial until someone told him the problem.

But anyways, back on topic, the first screenshot is where Lucifer is simply complimenting the art featuring the two hypersexual sonas which yeah, like I said I can GET where you guys are coming from but again, Jack isn't being a groomer here or predatory. Is the comment weird? Yes, if people read it wrong and assume it's a suggestive comment somehow where to me, it's literally Jack saying that the art is "yummy" and then proceeding to type 'nom nom nom' jokingly eating it..

Now, this does not mean I won't call Jack out on one thing which is it shouldn't of spoken to a minor since the kid is like 15 and on Jack's tumblr's bio, it says 16+.

But I'm gonna give him the benefit of a doubt and assume that it thought it was fine since the minor was almost 16 which doesn't excuse it and I think that Lucifer should address it and that people need to stop calling it "grooming" or going on twitter comparing Jack's sexual assaulter to him which is....disgusting??? I myself am a victim of child grooming in the past and like I said, I know what is or isn't grooming and that wasn't child grooming because as Jack mentioned and the minor mentioned is that they both never dm'd or pm'd each other. Granted, they could both LYING about that but at the end of the day you have to just take their words for it unless someone comes out with evidence that yes, they were both in fact in dms and were both in fact being weird.

(Link to 15 yr old's response)

[tavyliasin]

Baldur's Date Open Creative Challenge!

Artists, Writers, Creators of All Kinds!

You are cordially invited to join a creative challenge!

You must be 18 years old or over to join, but there will be 2 categories, one for SFW works and one for NSFW works!

Accepted Submission Types

Please note all works must be your own and not made using any AI, including AI RP bots for writing.

Art

Comics

Valentine's Card

Fiction

Drabble collection (series of short fic, 1-5 paragraphs each)

Poetry

Song lyrics

Full songs/music

Podfic (With agreement from the fic writer)

Cosplay (No Nudes/NSFW/Explicit please)

Other Crafts (Puppets, embroidery, paper figure cut outs - whatever you like!)

For the Rules and More Details, please see below! Credit to Morb for the new event banner!

Welcome to the Baldur's Date Challenge!

Please be aware this event will include spoilers to characters, storylines, and endings, as well as NSFW content. Proceed with care!

The idea is to create something themed around a Date or Valentine Event. It doesn't even have to be romantic or positive, there are lots of ways to take this from Valentine's Cards from characters to slow burn romance to fully brutal heartbreak and violence. The choices are yours!

The Rules

By participating, even in the SFW version, you agree and confirm you are 18 years old or over.

All creators retain full rights to their works, subject only to the conditions of the platforms they share them on (ie, AO3)

Submissions must contain at least one named character from Baldur's Gate 3

Submissions must also be based around a date, valentine-type event, or similar

AUs, non-canon, alternate versions of characters are all WELCOME

You may choose your own prompt, or use the quiz to help you decide!

Poly Romance Welcome

Characters only, no actors or real people, other than using "Reader Insert" with 2nd person writing styles.

All works must be tagged appropriately for any CWs (please ask TavyliaSin for a list if required)

All characters must be 18 or over in the game as well as in the work you create

No characters in romantic relationships are to be related to each other.

Trans and gender-swapped characters are welcomed, unless it is only for the explicit purpose of making a canon homosexual couple into a heterosexual couple (eg, making Aylin a man so that the relationship with Isobel is straight) 

Deadline is 10th Feb to allow for time to check entries

Collections will go live just before midnight on 13th Feb so they are ready to be viewed on Valentine's Day

If you would like to help with the event running, please contact TavyliaSin on Twitter, Discord, or anywhere else you can hunt her down~

Dead Dove and controversial topics, kinks, and characters are allowed but must be properly tagged to give people a choice of what they engage with. This also means there is to be no shaming - Tavylia would like to support all creative works even ones she isn't personally fond of or would avoid.

How Do I Join?

You can either send your submissions directly to the AO3 Collections, or if you don't have AO3 you can wait until 14th Feb and reblog/retweet the posts I'll make for the collections on the day to add your contributions. It's open to EVERYONE who is 18+! Join in, give it a try! Submissions on AO3 close on 10th Feb 2024 (just before midnight GMT/UTC 0) so please try to get things in on time to be on AO3 so we have a few days to accept and check submissions. The collections will go live on 14th February for Valentine's just around midnight UTC0/GMT

Select "Post to Collection" to add your work! All works will be hidden until the collection releases on 14th.

Are there any Prompts?

Yes! Aside from the general theme there are prompts for art and writing (and anything else) on the following google form. You can roll dice to decide for you as each question has numbered answers and instructions on the dice to use! But you don't have to stick to the result you get - choose what you like. You don't even have to roll dice at all if you don't want to, just take a look at the selection for some ideas and choose what's interesting in it.

You can enter as many pieces as you like, so please use this to have fun and enjoy yourselves~

If you have any questions please drop them in comments, or contact me anywhere you can find me~

[lostplotbunniesbg3]

Welcome to the BG3 Plot Bunny Rehoming Centre!

Got a plot idea that you don't have time to write? Looking for new ideas for fics and one shots? You've come to the right place!

How It Works

I Have a Plot Bunny

Use the ask box to submit your plot bunny ideas - anonymously if you prefer! - and they will be added to the blog!

I Want to Adopt a Plot Bunny

Choose any plot bunnies that appeal to you from the blog and comment on them to let people know you're working on them, then once your fic is written reblog the original post with your fic or the link to it!

Is that it?

It really is that simple! If you have ideas you don't have the time to write you can send them here to find a home, or if you're looking for a new and fun idea to work on this can be a fun place to find which one calls to you!

More Details Below! Rules, Submission Guidelines, and Submission Format

Submission Guidelines and Rules

What is Not Allowed Here?

I draw the line at NSFW content containing minors or characters who only appear in the source material as minors. Pairings must also pass the Harkness Test - creatures must be able to communicate in a way all participants can understand clear consent, they must have enough intelligence and sentience to understand clear consent, and they must be at or over the minimum age of consent for their species. No sexual pairings are to contain characters who are blood related, with the exception of Sorn/Nym Orlith who may be in a situation with multiple other partners but as they state in game they will not interact with each other, nor will they be with only one other partner.

All Participants must be 18+ - Minors DNI with this blog! The game is rated 18+ and so is a lot of the fan content, please respect this and wait until you are old enough to safely interact with 18+ fandom creativity (for your own safety and that of the creators)

Controversial Content, Tagging, and CWs

Controversial characters, Dead Dove topics, and triggering content is permitted here on the understanding that you will appropriately tag all submissions and fics with the CWs and Tags that apply to it, so readers and writers have the choice of what they engage with.

You can find a comprehensive guide to tagging and CWs here along with a list of topics that require a tag!

As long as you have clearly marked your content, it's fine to post. Stories have all kinds of themes to them and have done since we first sat around the fires talking to each other about dreams and ideas - so let's keep it positive here too! If you don't like an idea or story, just let it pass by and move on to something you do like instead. We are all so much better when we support one another~

How Should I Submit My Plot Bunny?

You should try to give as much detail as you're able to, but we can try and help out a bit too! Try to have as many of these points as you can:

Character Names

Basic idea (a couple of sentences)

SFW or NSFW?

Are there any tropes/kinks you do want to see included?

Are there any tropes/kinks you do NOT want to see included?

Is this a one shot idea or a long fic?

Should the idea be treated seriously or like a comedy?

Do you have an idea of an outline for the story (eg, beginning, middle, and end)

Would you like the Rehoming Centre to expand on your idea? (eg, you have a rare pairing idea but can't work out how to put them together)

Do you have any other inspirations for the plot bunny to go with it in the rehoming package? (eg, a song, a piece of art, a game screenshot)

How Should I Adopt A Plot Bunny?

If you'd like to adopt a plot bunny and write something with it, scroll, search, or pick whichever bunny appeals to you! If possible, drop a comment on the post so we know you're working on it, then those looking to claim a bunny that has no home yet can look further for more. You can claim a bunny that already has a claim if you'd like to, of course! Bunnies need lots of love.

Once you've written your fic, reblog the plot bunny post so the blog, readers, and the person who submitted the post can find your work! We want to see our lovely plot bunnies hopping happily in their new homes after all~

Is that it?

I think so! If you have any questions, pop them in the comments to this post or in the ask box. I look forward to seeing all your plot bunnies and finding them some good homes soon!

Plot Bunnies Successfully Rehomed!

Our first successfully rehomed plot bunny and the attached fic~ We hope the bunny's former owner enjoys the result!

[naughtybg3confessions]

I really don’t get why polyamory is on tag list with all of those triggering topics. You have made so many positive changes to this blog, yet you choose to keep this because of one single anon. Why?

I understand your concern, anon. It was never intended to be a cw tag from the beginning, and after repeated exchanges with the community it was decided that it would remain a tag, but remain not considered a part of the content warning list. Just its own, neutral tag. There haven't been a lot of requests for other tags of that nature yet, so it can be easy to confuse the content tag list with the cw tag list.

I don't publish every tag request, especially those made over DMs and not the ask box. Multiple people messaged me and requested it be tagged for their own personal reasons, and I was willing to accommodate that, since everyone seemed fine with it remaining a tag as long as there was no implication that it be treated as an overall controversial subject.

You can see a play by play of this discourse, and my consistent opinion on it, here, here, here, here, and here.

I do understand why it looks bad, having it beside so many controversial content tags though. At this point I will amend this, so that the confusion finally stops. The last thing I want is for people to think this blog is anti-polyamory in any way. I'm trying to respect the requests of my followers, but I also don't want to alienate anyone or make them feel like their relationships are somehow wrong or negative.

At this point, I'm getting tired. Not of you anon, your question is valid, but just in general. I will continue to use the tag as promised to the people who came to me, but I'm removing it from the tag index so nobody takes it the wrong way. It's really not necessary to have it up there, anyway.

[noirvette]

clyde and tweek! gen dating headcanons!!

cws: none! just fluff

♡ CLYDE DONOVAN

Was nervous to ask you out but he acted like he wasn't, but his awareness for how to ask you out smoothly was lacking.

He'd ask you out in class, him sitting in front of you. During work time he'd spin around to ask about a certain homework question and if you could tutor him/help him with the answers.

"Y/n? Hey can you help me?" "Yeah, uh... with what?" "Oh just what we're working on.. does Friday after school work with you? We could grab coffee?" "Clyde why do you need help on an 'About Me' essay?" "🧍‍♂️" "Sure though, I'd love to go out with you."

He spends the rest of the class time with his head in his hands bro, he's so embarrassed. He's stoked you agreed though.

Always puts his your needs and wants above his

He might "complain" about it but he's not actually complaining, he always wants to make sure you're happy

Loves PDA, but like enough for people to obviously understand you're together, but it's not over the top. He doesn't want to constantly be kissing you or something, just constant skin contact

He LOVES talking about you. He sits at his lunch table with his friends and the first topic he brings up is you, how good you look, how smart you are, as long as it's about you, he's talking.

Sends you random memes and reaction pics that just work?? Like he has a picture for EVERYTHING. Constantly texts too, he wants you to know he's engaged in conversation. Would and will respond in 2 seconds to anything you say.

If he doesn't it's because he's actually busy, which happens when his sports season rolls around (I see him on the football team w/ Stan and maybe baseball?), however he makes sure to text you before and after training/work outs/etc.

Maybe? controversial? But he's a little spoon. He wants to be held. Loves it.

Likes kissing the top of your nose or your temple. Like before you enter class, he pulls you into him, quickly kisses your temple, and off he goes to his own class.

Won't accept you paying. He pays for everything, he has to. He feels terribly if you end up paying, and if it does happen, he buys you something to make up for it: jewelry, coffee, something you eyed at the store last week, shoes, etc. WHATEVER IT IS, he bought it to "pay you back".

One time he thought you were ignoring him and he sent you an apple cash/venmo of like 10 dollars and was like "babe what'd i do, im sorry :("

When you're hanging out with his friends, he wants you attached to him, not out of jealousy or because he doesn't trust the guys he just loves you so much and wants you around him.

Arms wrapped around your waist as you sit on his lap you feel me?

If you leave for the bathroom or to get a drink or something, you come back and he's sitting still, face down on the table pouting.

Doesn't know how to respond to rants or vents though, like at all. Honestly if you send him a long message about how terribly your day went he'd very briefly scan it and respond with a "nta, divorce" and you're like "CLYDE WHAT???"

Atp it might be better to just call him and tell him your complaints.

♡ TWEEK TWEAK

Doesn't know how to ask you out at all. Is overwhelmed by the possibility that it could go wrong and he ends up psyching himself out every time he's about to ask you out.

Honestly unless you ask out Tweek or some invisible force pushes you two together, you guys wouldn't start dating.

Getting his attention wasn't hard, he finds himself often taking loving glances at you through out school.

Once you ask him out he kind've.. freezes and then pinches himself. He's gotta prove this isn't the dream he's had for the past week. Once he knows it's not, he agrees, a blush taking over his whole face.

I know I keep writing these guys as not big fans of pda but I swear I only see a few of the sp guys as fans of pda 😭 (Like I only see Kenny, Butters, and Clyde as the major pda guys mb guys). Loves just holding hands though. Having his fingers intertwined with yours makes him smile.

He's often less stressed out around you, finds himself coming to you when he's anxious about something.

If he's anxious about something all he wants is to be heard, not being told solutions (this is canon but yk gotta still say it). There are times where a solution would be best and he understands then, but it annoys him if all you give him is "how" to fix the situation rather than just hearing him out

Maybe? controversial? I feel as if tweek texts pretty clearly. a few typos (but who doesn't have typos), but he doesn't have constant typos.

Loves using emojis though, he likes how he can express himself easily with them rather than using just words. Especially because there are times where he just doesn't understand how to express himself and he sees an emoji that works perfectly

Likes music sharing. He makes playlists that are just dedicated to you and he sends them to you.

He also likes calming songs (? idk think like the neighborhood, tv girl, lana del ray, cigarettes after sex, etc.)

Is another small spoon when cuddling. LOVES cuddling actually. He can fall asleep so easily with you in his arms and he's never felt more at peace than when you guys cuddle.

Also likes facing you when lying down next to you. His arm draped across your waist and his face against your chest bro, he's knocked out.

Doesn't like really public dates, occasionally wants the fun amusement park date, but if you're going to do public dates, he likes a simple atmosphere, like at an aquarium or a museum.

I feel like his love languages are quality time and words of affirmation.

Sometimes he gets in his head and believes you aren't actually with him because you love him and it's some sort of prank or scheme.

Please reassure him :(, all he needs is a constant "I love you" and he's doing better.

[even-more-pro-fiction-jellicle]

What kind of comics does Eddie Munson read?

CW: many

In the behind the scenes video showing the Munson trailer set, we see a specific issue of Heavy Metal magazine on Eddie's bedroom floor, beside his bed

I managed to find and purchase a copy of this issue

So let's take a look inside, see what kind of stuff is in the cover story!

(Black box censors done by me, this is a graphic comic.)

Here's our heroine, Druuna, being forced to show her breasts by officials:

Here's superior lifeform mutant leader not really knowing or caring how to tell the difference between their daughters and their wives. Daughters and wives are possibly one and the same.

Just to show I'm not kidding about the superior lifeform bit:

The Mutant gets interrupted by a daughter/wife wanting to have some fun. Huge size difference, some "child-coding" you could say. Also, beneath that lower left black box is a penis. The Mutant has both breasts and a penis and testicles. I can't remember it right now but I'm pretty sure there's a specific term used for this in fandom stuff, and it's a controversial topic

Druuna engages in an exchange with a doctor to get medication. He uses some sort of unspecified device that seems to be painful:

She enjoyed it though:

Druuna immediately gets held up by thugs wanting her meds and things like this happen:

Woman gets attacked by monster and this is the response of the general populace as they all watch:

And after all this, the back cover of the magazine is an ad for a movie with teenage main characters and a child actor:

TL;DR Eddie Munson is the freak in your DNI

[mercifullymad]

okay i have a serious question. a few nights ago i posted (& then immediately quickly deleted) a rant about how every post i saw reporting on the words of the palestinian children, some as young five years old, who want to die (because of the overall situation in palestine and/or because all of their family members are dead) was being tagged "suicidal ideation tw" or "cw suicidal ideation" by nearly every user tagging it, & this deeply disturbed me for reasons i found difficult to enunciate. the closest i could come to enunciating the logic of this disturbance was that the function of trigger/content warnings is to protect the most vulnerable in our communities from being re-traumatized or reminded of their trauma unnecessarily, when they could otherwise choose to avoid triggering content had they the knowledge that allowed them to do so. and in this case, the most vulnerable in our communities are these children: children experiencing genocide, and children experiencing "suicidal ideation" (a term i think over-psychiatrizes and obscures the root cause of these feelings: GENOCIDE!!). THEY are the most vulnerable in our global community, and they are also the population in most need of attention and care. they cannot consent to the way their words are being distributed, interpreted, and framed (as a "suicidal ideation trigger warning" when they are. five years old.). and i think that ALL of us, yes even those of us who are suicidal, owe them this attention and care. if we are not actively experiencing genocide ourselves and their words leave us feeling triggered, we have the ability to call a warmline, talk with peers, text our therapists, etc etc. they do not.

i deleted this post because it seemed like too controversial a topic, & i am not palestinian and do not want to speak over others. but then aaron bushnell self-immolated and i am once again feeling angry at the double-standard. i have yet to see a post tagged "suicide tw" regarding bushnell's self-immolation, and he was a grown adult who made the choice to kill himself when he had nearly every other option of protest to choose from, especially as a white male army member (burn down/destroy whatever government buildings or weapons he had access to; burn important official papers; organize with other service members to engage in a mass movement of conscientious objection). aaron bushnell killed himself as an adult, freely, as a form of protest, and with many other options at his disposal as a white USA citizen. and yet nearly no one tags his posts "tw suicide" — in fact, i've seen many more posts about why we shouldn't consider self-immolation "suicide." meanwhile, palestinian children, who have no other protest options at their disposal, who are in a carceral situation, who simply SPEAK about wanting to die from the desperation of experiencing genocide and the loneliness of being the last member of their family alive — THEIR words are "suicidal ideation" trigger warning'ed to hell and back? i truly do not understand the logic. to return to my initial question, which i ask with sincerity: what makes these children more triggering than aaron bushnell?

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (39)

Author’s Note: UPDATE 10/22: Due to some recent controversy of this chapter, minor changes were made to emphasize the reasoning behind Sakura’s actions. In no way, am I downplaying the seriousness of suicide attempts or making Sasuke out to be a toxic asshole. This is new for him and new for Sakura, and for more of my rational behind this chapter, visit my tumblr account to see my full response. With that being said, please read this version first, and if you can handle more, read the AO3 version. I understand that I cannot make everyone happy, and it’s not my intention to, but I do want to depict the seriousness of such topics with care. Other than that, I wipe my hands of this chapter. If you don't like the direction of this story, please let it go and try some other sasusaku fics who might do the characters more justice for you. Thank you.

CW/Important Note, PLEASE READ: There are two versions of this chapter. This is the edited, non-explicit version. This version is a more poetic, fade-to-black version that adheres to site rules and guidelines. 

If you would like to read the full, unedited, absolutely unhinged-in-how-filthy-it-is version, visit my linktree anerdinallherglory, (located in my bio description) to find the link to the fic on AO3, where appropriate tags will be used. After reading the tags, you may have decided not to pursue reading that M version. I do believe that many would prefer this edited version, but I could be completely wrong for some.

!!BOTH VERSIONS have a depiction of a panic attack and intense emotions and discussion of a fake threat of suicide

*Songs for this chapter Black Sun by Death Cab for Cutie, The Hearse (Stripped) by Matt Maeson, Difficult by Billy Raffoul, Habits of my Heart by Jaymes Young, and Die Trying by Michl

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38

Chapter 39: On Behalf of the World

Sakura had been right. Kakashi had been positively miffed when Lady Tsunade and Sakura promptly reverse-summoned an entire group of ninja—via the slug express as Sasuke had so eloquently put it—and marched them all straight into his office at two-hours past sunrise. Kakashi and Shikamaru, who looked as if they had only recently returned themselves from their mini-vacation in Sunagakure, practically leaned over from behind each of their designated towers of late paperwork to drop their jaws in astonishment at the suddenly cramped room. 

Sakura smiled guiltily, Sasuke ‘hmphed’ humorously, and Tsunade, who had insisted on coming along to see the Sixth’s reaction, cackled loudly and pointed a finger at Kakashi who, in return, frowned at the former Hokage with obvious envy about life on the other side of retirement.

Tsunade’s laughter grew louder when Sasuke didn’t hesitate to activate his Rinnegan and reveal another twenty-five fear-stricken members of Zenshin who clung to their reunited acquaintances. Sakura caught Sasuke’s eyes with her own when the newcomers recoiled from the Uchiha’s presence in obvious traumatic fear, and Sakura suddenly became highly suspicious that they had endured a torturous genjutsu for at least a small length of time before they had been ejected into another dimension.

Kakashi sighed loudly for all to hear and leaned back in his chair in disbelief at the increasing crowd of convicts. To Sakura’s amazement, they all looked down at their feet in the Hokage’s presence, even the loudest of them, quiet now that they were among five of the most powerful ninja in the Leaf Village. They hadn’t even met Naruto yet. They knew their inadequate skills and ninjutsu would get them nowhere here. 

Sakura rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as she pushed forward through the gathering of people who had been intent on killing her just twenty-four hours ago. Some sneered at her as she passed while the newcomers stared openly at her in shock. She felt Sasuke’s narrowed eyes on her back as she made her way through the pit of vipers. 

“Please tell me you didn’t just bring fifty more criminals into my village,” Kakashi frowned at her. It was technically fifty-one, but she wasn’t going to add that additional number right now. It would have been fifty-two if they hadn’t woken up this morning to discover a member of Zenshin missing to the shadows of the Shikkotsu Forest. Toka had taken the risk after all, it seemed, rising at some point in the night to face the terrors within, gambling his life on the small likelihood he might survive the Forest for a chance at a future as a father. Sakura had silently wished him luck upon discovery, for Tabi’s sake, but she wasn’t going to be fool enough to provide him any sort of assistance—there was always the risk of him returning to whatever was left of Zenshin now, even though Sakura wasn’t too worried about it in the long run. She’d handle it as it came.  

Kakashi continued his scowling reprimand. “I had thought at least half of this group would be going to Sunagakure when I signed off on that.”

When she placed the mentioned scrolls with each of their names and sentencing on his desk, and smiled again, saying, “I sort of gave them the choice,” Kakashi gave her the most affronted look he had ever given his student. She knew he was wanting to respond with something like ‘on whose authority?’ but then she saw his next train of thought cross his face, register behind his eyes, and evolve into acceptance with another resigned sigh. Team 7 was as close as Kakashi would ever get to having children; the three of them took advantage of their old sensei at every turn, especially since he became Hokage with much more influence at his disposal. Just when Sakura thought Kakashi would finally put one of Team 7 in their place, Sakura could practically see when Kakashi weighed the request and caved like an overfond parent, deciding that there was very little he wouldn’t do for the three ninja he had almost lost at one point or another in the past. 

He pulled Sakura’s scroll across the desk like it was the heaviest thing in the world, unfurling it slowly, as if he dreaded the finality of the contents inside. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing Tsunade, since it says here that all twenty-seven—” he looked up at the assembly Sasuke had revealed—“double that, now—are to attend the Mental Health Clinic you are currently in charge of. In addition to any medical attention they might need beforehand.” 

The laughter did stop then as Tsunade opened her mouth and swung her head in Sakura’s direction, obviously not aware of that particular clause in Sakura’s sentencing. Shikamaru laughed under his breath when the Fifth released a sigh to compete with the current Hokage’s.

Sakura just giggled lightly, continuing to blush deeply and smile guiltily at her two former masters. “Um, well I will definitely help with that this evening, Lady Tsunade. I’d like to check up on Isao, as well. He did make it back here with you guys, correct?” She easily got distracted when her mind wandered to a patient she cared deeply for. And it was Isao, the young boy she had gotten quite attached to over the past few months; she hadn’t been this emotionally invested in a while. It was easy to spiral when her work was involved, and Sakura sometimes found herself completely forgetting everyone else present. 

“One thing at a time,” Kakashi sighed, turning to Shikamaru, who flinched under the Hokage’s sudden attention. It usually meant that he was about to have work to do—work that the Hokage was redirecting to him, and Sakura silently wondered to herself how anything got done between the two. And then she was thinking of Naruto, the soon-to-be Hokage-in-training, and was suddenly overcome with agita at the future ping-pong match of responsibility between the two laziest ninja of their year as Shikamaru continued his duty of chief aide to the Hokage.  

“Shikamaru, please escort this caravan to the prison-hold, for now. Arrange for them to be brought food and water, and whatever basics can be provided for them while we assemble a team of medics to see to them. I’ll have to think of where to house and facilitate them in the meantime. Lady Fifth, do you mind assist—”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Tsunade sighed, and Sakura laughed awkwardly at the former Hokage’s inability to take orders since she had been so used to dishing them out for five years. “Come on kid, let’s get this over with,” she said to Shikamaru, and he slowly rose to his feet with a sigh, mumbling something about his unfortunate lot with Hokages. 

“This way,” Shikamaru waved them all behind him and they filed out after him like ants, Tsunade on their heels. They must have heard the rumors of the Fifth’s temper and strength, then, Sakura thought, as nobody took a step out of line. Sakura couldn’t believe her luck as a few of them even looked back to her for reassurance, fear of the change in warden crossing their features. On her way out the door, Tsunade gave Sakura the ‘You’ll-be-following-shortly-to-help-with-this’ look, and Sakura nodded out of the teenage habit of student compliance. 

This left Sakura alone with a silent, brooding Sasuke in the back of the room, and a silent, exhausted Kakashi at the front. Sakura suddenly felt like an uncomfortable sandwich. 

She cleared her throat as Kakashi stood and made his way around his desk to stand before her, placing a hand on her shoulder, a different, relieved sort of sigh escaping this time. “I’m glad to see that you are okay.”

Sasuke immediately scoffed to himself at that declaration, an ejection of air from his nose, and Sakura and Kakashi both looked over at him as he stood perched against the wall as still as if he hadn’t just made a noise at all. 

Kakashi looked back to her, gripping her shoulder encouragingly before releasing her altogether. “Sometimes I miss the girl who fainted multiple times during that first bell test—where has she gone? She certainly isn’t before me, now. Hasn’t been for years.”

Sakura wanted to laugh at that and tell her sensei that if she remembered correctly, she was fainting because she thought Sasuke had been hurt and would probably do so again under more authentic life-threatening circumstances if they occurred in the future. And that she was still prone to fainting spells if she got worked up enough. But her sensei was giving her a compliment right now and she didn’t feel like reminding him otherwise at the moment. She smiled and thanked her sensei. 

“Is this all of them?” he asked. “Is the situation finally settled?”

“Not quite,”Sakura confessed. “I never learned the exact number, but we might have more luck with interrogations this time. I do know that there’s still someone out there—a man named Mozai, and who knows how many more.”

“Gaara got the same name from the Shade,” the Sixth declared, and Sakura’s eyes widened, not ever having expected the Shade to be the one to give that up. Mako hadn’t been given the name at all. “We thought he was the leader at first.”

“So did I, until Mako told me otherwise,” Sakura confirmed, but remembered her shock when Mako had told her that the organization worked in cells similar to the Akatsuki, the Shade being in charge of those who had attacked her back in the deserts of Suna. 

“We can investigate it further and send a team to handle it this time,” Kakashi reassured her. “In the meantime, I’m just glad the two of you are home.”

“No need. I’m sure they’ll either disappear or come for me eventually. And if I could handle the others, I’m sure I can handle a few more when the time comes.” 

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and she caught him glance over to Sasuke, whose stare she could feel straight into her back. 

She cleared her throat, “If that’s everything sensei, can I be excused? I just want to check on Isao now.”

Kakashi nodded emphatically, gesturing for Sakura to go ahead and take her leave. She turned quickly, making eye contact with Sasuke before she made to exit. He wasn’t moving to follow her, and Sakura realized suddenly that he was intending to hang behind to talk to Kakashi on his own. Her stomach turned a little at that, wondering what he might have to say without her, but he nodded and boldly said, “I’ll find you afterwhile.” 

And her mood instantly lifted, and she nodded back, trying not to grin stupidly in the presence of an everwatching sensei who always knew more than he should. It was like if Sakura smiled, then Kakashi’s sharingan-less eyes could still see straight through her like a parent who knew their child was keeping a secret. She cleared her throat and left them, saving her face-splitting smile for the hallway as she skipped to find Isao.

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.

Kakashi was back to sighing when Sakura left, and Sasuke’s eyes landed on him like sharp kunai. In contrast to Sakura’s ten-year change since the Bell Test, Sasuke was giving Kakashi that same hateful stare that made Kakashi reminiscent of the relentless youth who had always been determined, always had a purpose, and never really cared whether he came off as rude to anyone else. Kakashi was used to this Sasuke—had dealt with him a few days ago in the presence of the Kazekage.

“If I have to watch someone who I love die, sacrificing themselves for the sake of the Leaf Village, again, the person who I am now won’t survive it. What’s left of the shinobi world will either fall to the Otsusuki race in my absence, or it will fall to the person I will become. That will be its fate if you keep me here and she dies, Kakashi.” Those were the words Sasuke had used to manipulate the Hokage and Kazekage both when the Uchiha was being retained against his will. When Sasuke had uttered such words before the very ninja who had given him another chance, Kakashi had felt like a stone of foreboding had fallen into the pit of his stomach. 

After Sasuke had been allowed to leave, a very tense discussion followed. Gaara had raised his concerns once again about Sasuke, to which Kakashi had no immediate response, because Kakashi, himself, didn’t know if Sasuke would ever be capable of turning on them all once more. He was unpredictable, the Uchiha. His attachments either tethered him to goodness or dropped him right into the depths of darkness. Kakashi had believed Sasuke to be returned for good, had taken up his self-sacrificial role of a journey of atonement in order to ensure that no threat could be posed to the shinobi world again. But Sasuke’s response to the situation with Sakura contradicted his very goal, didn’t it? Where did his allegiances lie? Who could guarantee that Sasuke would never fall again?

Naruto had apologized to both Gaara and Kakashi on his behalf, saying, “You don’t have to worry. He doesn’t mean that. He’s just upset and concerned. He and Sakura, they’re—”

“Don’t make excuses for him Naruto,” Gaara had responded. “Threats like that have to be taken seriously. Especially from him.”

“He’s not like that anymore,” Naruto insisted. “He’s under a lot of stress. Think about what we’ve asked him to do for the world. He thought he’d never get a chance to pursue a happiness like this. And now you’re letting Sakura go and face a threat to her life all by herself.” And then Naruto was glaring at Kakashi, too. “You taught us about teamwork, remember? That was our very first lesson from you, and you let her go alone. Has being Hokage made you lose sight of that? He wouldn’t have had to make that threat if you remembered that lesson yourself in the first place.”

And it had felt like a punch to Kakashi’s gut. Gaara had frowned as Naruto spoke and he had turned back to the Kazekage and added, “I’ll handle it. It won’t, but if it ever gets that bad again, I’ll be here to stop him. However many times it takes. I have already made that promise to him, myself.”

The conversations had ended after that. And Kakashi had holed up into the guest quarters of the Sand, staying through the night before making the trip back to Konoha. The jinchuriki was boisterous and loud for the sake of their tag-along, Isao, who nervously chose the path forward into a new land, carrying his entire life’s belonging in one rucksack. He looked to Naruto as a sense of comfort, but the following night, after Isao had fallen asleep beside their fire, Naruto had dropped his faux excitement and stared up into the stars a long time as he quietly kept to himself. The following morning, as they stood outside the A N gates, Naruto spoke his next request lowly. “Don’t tell Sakura,” Naruto had breathed between them, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Whenever she comes back, don’t tell her what he said. She deserves this newfound happiness with Sasuke. I’ll talk to him.”

And that had been the end of it. Until now. Because despite Naruto’s assurance and his promise to talk to Sasuke himself, Kakashi was feeling responsible again. As Sasuke’s sensei, Kakashi had taken him aside before, explaining to the youth how he, too, had already lost all his loved ones to the shinobi way of life and that Sasuke should give up on revenge. And now, he felt the need to remind Sasuke of the hard lesson he had thought the Uchiha had already learned. 

“If you want to remain in the good graces of the Kages, you shouldn’t carelessly throw around threats. It wasn’t well received. Your reputation isn’t going to improve if you still come across as an insubordinate. Naruto and I had to do some damage control after you left.”

Sasuke scoffed aloud again, and Kakashi bristled when the Uchiha didn’t even seem to listen to the beginning of his lecture, falling straight into that sardonic voice as he said, “I hope this next threat is better received, because I don’t plan on breaking the habit today.”

Kakashi raised an unexpectant eyebrow at that statement. A threat to him? He shook his head as he prepared himself. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You sent her to a brothel.” Sasuke stated contemptuously, narrowing his only visible eye. 

Ah. That. Kakashi supposed he would be hearing about this from one of the boys; hadn’t quite expected it to be Sasuke, though. Kakashi had hated that part of Sakura’s plan. Was very tempted to force her to stay with them in Suna when she had confessed it to him. However, as both a Hokage and someone with a very fair estimation of Sakura’s capabilities, the plan had made sense. He had full faith that she would be able to protect herself and execute her plan flawlessly. When Kakashi had raised concerns, Sakura did specifically tell him that the bathhouse was just a stage and she didn’t quite plan on performing the entire act that went with that stage. She had walked him through step-by-step of it. And he trusted her, as a medic, to be able to excute the anesthetic approach to captivation flawlessly.

“That was her plan; it sounded foolproof, and she assured me she would be safe. No one here is forced or asked to do that sort of thing for a mission. It’s been a thing of the past since Tsunade became Hokage. She made sure of it. Except for the rare occasion, on a voluntary basis—"

“It ends,” Sasuke drawled, interrupting him once again. “For everyone. Today. No matter the occasion.”

Kakashi sighed, feeling like Sasuke wasn’t quite understanding that his former sensei wasn’t saying he condoned Leaf ninja using their bodies as a means of success in a mission. That wasn’t what Sakura had been planning to do; it was the illusion of that to get inside. 

“Or Naruto will hear more about Sakura’s recent mission himself,” Sasuke finished, finally delivering that threat he promised. And Kakashi really did feel more like a father than a Kage. An old man who had just had one troublesome son threaten him with the other, just as problematic, one. Meanwhile, the second son was yelling at him about sending Sakura (the daughter in this ridiculous scenario?) and foregoing all their training about teamwork. This entire thing made Kakashi feel like a figurehead, a reminder that Sasuke had begun his covert Kage rein long before Naruto would begin his official one, and Naruto, who acted like Hokage before he had even started. Not to mention Sakura forming plans on her own and expecting Kakashi’s approval to follow through with them. Ugh. If they only just saw him as someone to manipulate as they saw fit, then they should just relieve him of such duties and provide him the retirement check he wanted. But alas, he was still in charge. Kakashi loved the village and would die protecting it, but he knew the title of “Sixth Hokage” was a temporary placement holder until Naruto was ready to take over, and Sasuke and Shikamaru with him. 

“I agree that it shouldn’t be allowed,” Kakashi informed him, just so there was no confusion about this topic. “Sakura was successful because of the disguise. She assured me she wasn’t going to go as far as that. I never would have let her go if she had.”

“Do you think she would have told you if she had planned it? She did more than she should have had to simply because she was in that situation. And that’s my point.”

“What did she do? You’re not saying—" Kakashi asked, suddenly feeling like his stomach was twisting violently. Would she have lied to him? Had Naruto been right? Had he just sent Sakura without a team into a situation Kakashi shouldn’t have?

“You don’t get to know what,” Sasuke hissed. “Because if I hadn’t followed her, then no one would know.”

Kakashi’s stomach turned again as he thought about what Sakura might feel obligated to do to complete a mission she had proposed herself because it had been about her. Would she have done anything to ensure it was a success? Would she have felt like it was her personal sacrifice to make in order to obtain the members of the organization simply because she was their target? A part of the Hokage’s duties  came with giving orders and entrusting missions to the ninja the Hokage believed would deliver and follow through with those orders.  

He looked back at Sasuke differently, then. Kakashi always thought he might be the one to know his students best in the beginning. But Sasuke knew a great deal more now about personal sacrifice because he, himself, had taken that road as his ninja path. Maybe Sasuke understood Sakura in her most recent mission on a level the rest of them could not, simply because it was his own personal convictions being mirrored back to him in the girl who loved him. Maybe it was that particular fact that had Sasuke braving to threaten the Hokage again, because he somewhat felt responsible for her choice. Sasuke was doing more than threatening Kakashi; he was asking him to stop Sakura in circumstances like this in the future. To continue to look after her as he had always done as her sensei. Because he was going to be gone and couldn’t do it himself.

“And why do you suddenly care so much Sasuke?” Kakashi prompted, already knowing the answer but wanting to force the Uchiha to admit it. It was the truth Sasuke needed to acknowledge outright before Kakashi confronted the Uchiha further. “Naruto, I could understand, but until two days ago in the Kazekage’s meeting room, you’ve always acted like you couldn’t really be bothered—”

“There’s no point in telling you what you already know, so move on with it,” Sasuke interrupted and Kakashi nodded thoughtfully. So, he was past the point of denying his growing attachment to Sakura. Kakashi’s thoughts returned to that ever-growing connection. Just a few days ago, Kakashi had been beaming with joy at having caught his two students together in a shared room in Sunagakure. But now, after Sasuke’s threat, the Hokage was concerned about it. As much as he wished otherwise, maybe the opening of the Uchiha’s heart wouldn’t turn out to be a good thing after all. Sasuke cared about Naruto. He cared about Sakura. But she had become something more over the course of the last few months at the very least, if not before that. He suddenly thought of Obito and Rin, and what Rin’s death had done to Obito.

Would a matter of a few months change Sasuke’s bearings and weaken his resolve about a peaceful future in a worst case scenario? 

While Sasuke was complying with responses to his questions, Kakashi pushed further, “Naruto says that we don’t have to worry about the threat you made to the shinobi world in Sunagakure. Is that true? Being a shinobi comes with risks; Sakura is a frontline medic and more. There is always a gamble of her safety. As there is for me. And for Naruto, as well.” 

There was silence as Sasuke stared beyond Kakashi and into the faces of the Hokage Mountain at his back. Kakashi wasn’t certain if Sasuke was going to even respond at first, but then he reached some sort of conclusion in his mind, “If Naruto exists, the world will never have to worry. We have the same goal. I will protect the Leaf. More so now than ever, I must find out everything I can about the Otsusuki. I’ve sacrificed everything for that.”

“Not everything, it seems,” Kakashi said aloud and Sasuke’s scowl deepened. 

“Everything and more,” Sasuke corrected. “My future and hers.” It was a brutal truth that made Kakashi frown in contemplation. Being connected to Sasuke would bring Sakura a future of suffering and sacrifices of her own. 

And then Sasuke was making his exit, excusing himself as he always did. And as Kakashi watched him leave, he thought of something else. Even more than Sakura, Kakashi was suddenly concerned about another unspoken factor. The Uchiha may not go to such lengths again on behalf of his current bonds, but the ultimate attachment to those who might be born from this “newfound happiness” between teammates—that might different. The loss of a friend is one thing. The loss of a spouse another. But the loss of a child was a pain more terrible than the first two. And definitely one to seek vengeance over. Would anyone truly be able to stop him then? But Kakashi didn’t say this aloud to Sasuke, hoping that Naruto would always be the insurance the shinobi world needed to keep the Uchiha in the light.

“Use the Uchiha compound,” Sasuke called back to him as if he had just thought of something else to add. “Build the clinic, the wards, or a prison. I don’t care. Whatever she wants, you can build it there, but put the Uchiha crest on it. I leave tomorrow to hunt down the rest of Zenshin, so there will be more coming if I don’t end up having to kill them, first.”

Kakashi rose an eyebrow at Sasuke’s parting words. The Uchiha had just given him permission to use his ancestral clan territory to expand Sakura’s professional reach and display the symbol of Uchiha pride once more. And told him he would have even more prisoners to take care of. Kakashi sighed.

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.

.

The sun was high and bright over the ninja academy when Sakura finally found Isao and Naruto. They stood just outside the red doors of the building, that leaf symbol towering above the entrance crippling Sakura with nostalgia as she approached. That same lonely swing hung from the tree just outside. She was glad to not see Naruto sitting in that swing anymore. Now, he was serving as a personal tour guide, introducing Isao to Iruka Sensei, who had been promoted from homeroom teacher to Konoha Academy headmaster. Iruka was teasing Naruto’s past behavior lightheartedly to which Naruto was guffawing loudly over or cheesing bashfully at the accusations. Konohamaru was also among the group and Sakura was shocked at how much he had grown as well. Full of reminiscent wistfulness, Sakura hung back a moment despite how much she wanted to rush to them. Isao’s wide smile was just as vibrant as the others and Sakura felt relieved to see him surrounded with a group of men who had a history of supporting and looking up to one another. It was such a contrast to the treatment he had grown up with, and Sakura’s concern for Isao’s adjustment to life in the Leaf lightened considerably knowing that this group of ninja would be there for him. 

Isao’s small voice carried to her on the wind. “What if no one likes me? What if I am alone?”

And she saw Naruto crouch down in front of him and grab each of his shoulders. “Impossible. But even if they don’t like you, that’s okay. Even if you feel alone in the beginning, friends will find you.”

And Sakura heard Naruto’s reflective laugh before continuing, “And if they don’t come to you, you go to them. Find the person who is also alone, and in them, you’ll have a lifelong friend. My best friend is often still alone, but we find our way back to one another, because we are each other’s closest friend to this day. He needs to be punched occasionally, but he is a good guy.”

Sakura chuckled to herself at that, then revealed her snooping by acting as if she were catching Naruto in a love confession. “Never thought I’d ever hear you admit that aloud.” 

And Naruto turned to her, looking as if he had been caught with his pants down. He rubbed the back of his head, “Oh, hey Sakura! Don’t tell Sasuke I said that, ‘kay?”

When Isao finally caught her standing there, Sakura raised her hand and waved, revealing her own jovial smile. The child abandoned the party and sprinted toward her like no child ever had. He clutched her around the middle and Sakura had to summon chakra to her feet just to keep from sprawling on the ground from the force of his hug. 

“You’re here!” Isao was mumbling into her side, large tears brimming along his bottom eyelids and Sakura realized suddenly that despite his smiling, this was the moment where he felt safest and was letting all that pent up stress directly fuel that sniffling. Sakura hugged him tightly back, catching Naruto’s giant grin as he walked toward them with his fingers laced behind his head. 

“I’m glad to see you well,” Sakura admitted to Isao truthfully, her own emotions beginning to make her throat swell. She did her best to swallow them, coughing out, “How are you enjoying the Leaf so far? Naruto isn’t pushing you too hard, is he? He can be a bit oblivious, so telling him directly is what always works best for the rest of us.” She teased her friend, who grumbled, “not you too, Sakura.” Iruka and Konohamaru were laughing again. Sakura waved at them, too. 

“It’s so lively here,” Isao admitted. “It’s a lot to take in. But everyone has been so nice.”

“I was just trying to convince Iruka to take us all out for Ramen since it will be Isao’s first time!” Naruto confessed as he came to stand beside her. He nudged her with his elbow. “But it’s not working. Your treat Sakura?” 

Sakura wanted to habitually threaten his life like she had always done as a genin, but found herself sighing and nodding instead. She’d buy Naruto a hundred bowls of ‘Miso Ramen with extra pork!’ just for the kindness he showed Isao in her absence alone, not to mention everything else he had ever done for her. And besides, the last thing she had eaten was a stick of slimy eel fish, so Sakura was beside herself with hunger. At Naruto’s ‘huzzah’, Sakura placed a hand on top of Isao’s head after he let her go and wiped his eyes. “I was just coming to retrieve you for a short health check, but let’s get you some food first.” 

Together, the three of them headed for Ichiraku, and Sakura watched with a smile as Naruto explained to Isao what the best ramen order was. Eager to please, Isao did everything Naruto was telling him to do, and Sakura elbowed him sharply. “Let him pick out what he wants.” She grinned innocently when Naruto overdramatized his new pained ribs. But Isao only nodded his eager approval at the food when it finally arrived. 

When Isao began to eat enthusiastically, Naruto elbowed her back privately, saying, “Congrats by the way. It was about time that you two—”

And Sakura’s hand found his mouth to silence him as she looked back to her left at Isao to see if the child had heard her obnoxiously loud friend, but Isao played it off as if he hadn’t, turning back to his food and slurping loudly. Perceptive child.

“Geeze, Sakura. I wasn’t going to say that, but that too, huh?” Naruto whispered and grinned cheekily and Sakura dropped her jaw in absolute shock at his bluntness. 

“Na-ru-to,” Sakura seethed, steam to compete with the ramen once again coming fresh off the planes of her too-large forehead. 

“Alright, sheesh,” Naruto sighed, raising two hands to ward off her temper. “I just wanted to wish my two best friends a lifetime of happiness together.”

“So now I’m your best friend, too? Not twenty minutes ago, you just told Isao that you had only one best friend. Being the third wheel is starting to get old, you know.” She pretended to pout with her chin in her palm.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re much of third wheel anymore, to me.”

And Sakura immediately asked, “What did he tell you?” Because Sakura was trying to fit the information together. Sakura hadn’t told him; she had confirmed it for Kakashi, but Naruto had purposefully been kept in the dark. She took a calming breath because she certainly hadn’t told anyone about how official things seemed to have become just in the last twenty-four hours. 

Naruto glanced over her shoulder to catch Isao strategically ordering another bowl of ramen while they talked, and Naruto stopped mid-conversation to say, “Make that two, old man!”

And then lowly, he said, “I’m not as dumb as you two believe me to be. I have eyes, too, sometimes.” 

“Emphasis on the sometimes.”

“I’m happy for you two,” he nodded, leaning across her to ask Isao if he had ever had Naruto fishcakes in his ramen, to which Isao had replied that he had never had ramen, which sent Naruto into hysterics. Sakura was near-hysterics herself because talking about her relationship status with Naruto was not on her to-do-list and it took her by complete surprise. She didn’t even know what to say. 

“Thanks, Naruto,” she ended up whispering to him, “for everything you’ve done for Sasuke. And for me. You kept your promise, you know. You brought him back.”

“And I always will. You have my word.”

Sakura shook her head. She wouldn’t ever burden Naruto the same way she had as a genin. “No, I’ll never let you make that sort of promise again, Naruto. You have a family now. A baby on the way. I’ll be there for Sasuke now. Keep him in line. That sort of thing.” She grinned as she raised her fist in an illustrative threat. 

But, in response, Naruto reached out an arm and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “We can take care of him together. Take shifts, since you’re right. I do have a baby on the way!” It was a celebratory statement, at such a volume that revealed that Naruto had reached his limitations on whispered speech for one evening. “But I’ll trade you night shifts when the baby gets here.”

Sakura laughed at that intrusive picture. An exhausted, dark eyed Naruto showing up on her doorstep with a baby in his arms and handing him to Sakura, while heading toward her room where Sasuke slept, curling up next to the Uchiha as if he were the baby that needed snuggling, except Sasuke was a prickly porcupine who would kick him straight off the bed. Maybe she could rope Kakashi into it somehow and it would be like Team 7 was raising a baby together. Well, when Hinata needed a break, of course. She wasn’t the sort to hog a newborn baby that didn’t belong to her—those sort of people were odd. But helping when asked—Sakura wasn’t bothered by that notion. She thought back to her and Sasuke’s mutual understanding about a delayed family start, if they even got that point. So, if Hinata felt up for sharing, Sakura would spend every night awake with her and Naruto’s sweet child. Unlike Naruto himself, this baby would be surrounded by a family who loved him. 

“You’re having a baby?” Isao suddenly chimed in as he leaned across Sakura to talk to her boisterous shinobi friend, no longer pretending not to hear their conversation. “I love babies. I always wanted a brother or sister.”

“Really?” Naruto asked him, “because I’m sure that Hinata and I could use all the help we can get!”

Isao’s face brightened as he smiled at Naruto, and Sakura was suddenly seeing another copy of an adoring Konohamaru in Isao, who was essentially a copy of Naruto. Not to mention the copy yet to be born. This world was going to be full of Narutos, Sakura thought to herself, but she also found herself smiling and admitting that it wouldn’t be a bad thing.

Long after Naruto left them in pursuit of Sasuke, Isao glanced over at her as they walked back toward the hospital. Curiosity getting the better of him, Isao questioned, “His best friend, the one he was talking about… That’s the man you love? The one who was in Sunagakure with you?”

Sakura didn’t know why exactly he was asking, but she nodded, suddenly nervous about Isao’s perception of Sasuke and what her choice in him might mean to the young boy. His father had been cruel to him, his mother lost forever. She felt the weight of her choices in the contextual lens of a young person’s impressionable viewpoint.

But that feeling went away when Isao said, “Why’d you and Naruto breakup? He said something about you two dating in the past—”

Sakura dropped her chin, and her face turned red, “Narutoooo,” she growled. “Don’t believe anything that idiot tells you!”

Isao’s laughter was sharp and bright and Sakura realized that for the first time, she had never heard him truly laugh before until now. As a medic, she knew it was a good sign that came with a change in environment. As someone who cared about the youth, her heart felt such peace.

.

.

.

The August cicada song of Konoha summer evenings was a comforting sound to Sasuke. It was loud, definitely, but not near as loud as the deafening roar of life in Shikkotsu Forest. It was warm and humming, and it was also a sound that Sasuke had once associated with his birthday. Being in Konoha for the first time since May, he realized his birthday must have passed under his nose without his remembering. That’s how it was when one got older, but for Sasuke, he had forgotten his birthday and age altogether the moment his family, the people who celebrated those things with him, were murdered. All dates of celebration were eclipsed in his mind by anniversaries of death. It was probably the same for many shinobi who’d lost their loved ones to a world of war.

After Sasuke had forgotten about his birthday, the cicada sound became attached to new memories other than his birthday. It was the sound of conversations between friends, camping by a fire in the forest, D-rank missions, and competitive sparring. Pairing it with the smell of street vendors and the Konoha evening dinner crowd made Sasuke suddenly overcome with nostalgia. 

“Is that everything you need dear?” came the vendor’s question and Sasuke suddenly realized he was spacing. 

He nodded, accepting the bag of supplies from the older woman, a face he recognized from his youth, but she didn’t seem to recognize him. Speaking to anyone in Konoha was sometimes nerve-wracking because Sasuke didn’t know if he was going to be receiving a fearful reception or indifferent one. 

Sasuke was walking back in the direction of the Uchiha compound when that idiot blonde’s voice became louder than the cicada song. “Yo. You need help with that? Unlike you, I’ve got two arms now.”

Sasuke closed his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t you have anything better to be doing loser? Aren’t you about to be a father? Won’t your wife be angry if she catches you goofing off?”

“Hinata doesn’t get bent out of shape easily. Your wife, on the other hand.” Naruto countered and pointed at Sasuke square in the face when the Uchiha snapped his neck in his direction. Naruto laughed. 

After a minute of solid glaring and no denying on Sasuke’s part, Naruto stopped mid-step and dropped his mouth. “Wait just a second! Are you serious? You two are married!?”

Sasuke turned on his heel and continued to make his way into the tree line. 

“Why didn’t Sakura tell me that!? And here she was going on about a third-wheel, but you two are leaving me out of the know!” 

Sasuke sighed again, not sure if he was relieved or frustrated that Naruto had discovered that secret. Well, maybe. He could still patch it, possibly. If Sakura wasn’t saying anything, then Sasuke sure damn well wasn’t confirming anything. He would let her tell it in her own time. “There’s nothing to tell. So shut up before the entire village hears you.”

“So you’re not? I need to know! Spill!”

“Why do you need to know anything? It’s none of your business.”  

His joking voice changed, that quiet solidness it sometimes took on when Naruto was trying to get on Sasuke’s level. “It is my business when you go and threaten the Leaf and shinobi world again.”

Sasuke stopped walking then, turning to Naruto once they were both under tree cover. “Kakashi already gave me the lecture, so you can save your breath.” He sat, unfurling his scrolls and dumping the bags contents on the ground beside them with the purpose of restocking his summoning scrolls. 

Naruto leaned against an opposite tree, arms crossed and eyes upward to the treetops. “I know that you don’t mean those things. That you only said it because they allowed Sakura to walk into danger alone. It makes more sense, knowing the scale of what she means to you now.” 

Sasuke wanted to correct him. He wanted to tell Naruto that before and after he was consumed in darkness, Sakura had always been important to him. The only difference was that his goal had changed and that he was on the right side, the side that allowed him to admit and develop his attachment to her. Essentially, only after Sasuke had experienced death, that zone of in-between where he could still talk to Naruto and their souls collided, did Sasuke see that whatever goals he had in life, the only way to reach them was with the help of Naruto and the multitude on his side. While being the only one cutout for his solitary role, Sasuke had still tried to keep that distance from Sakura, but because he had believed it to be for her own sake. Not because he didn’t care for her on the same measure as now. Making her his wife didn’t mean he had cared less before. It was just a little different now, because he had finally admitted it to himself, something he had never done before. For both of his friends, Sasuke had denied their bonds to spare himself of the pain of losing them. And there was another factor that altered the situation. If Sakura were targeted because of their marriage and killed because of the Uchiha tie, then yes, Sasuke would avenge her. He would avenge her regardless, but it would be an entire new level of vengeance. A intense and dark sort of retaliation.

Which had Sasuke considering his threat. Despite what Naruto believed, Sasuke had meant every word of it, and even though it scared everyone for him to say those words, it also scared Sasuke. Because he didn’t want to fall, didn’t wantto pitch back into darkness. He had tried to stay far away from the edge of it for the last two years, but falling in love with that pink-haired Kunoichi… it just might make him stagger. Because that’s what love did to an Uchiha and Sasuke was well aware of that. Had faced it very recently with a display of Amaterasu on the prick who had marred Sakura’s skin with her own blood.

However, this time, Sasuke had the confidence that he wouldn’t fall to such depths again. Because of hia closest friend across from him. Because of Naruto. Where Sakura had become a tether to sanity and happiness, Naruto was still the savior when that lifeline snapped. The person who dove after the falling and careened over the edge along with them, and just when you thought their strength would run out and they would let go or fall too, they somehow managed to pull you both back to safety.

“Your promise still stands?” Sasuke asked aloud, glancing up at Naruto through his eyelashes. “To stop me no matter what?”

Naruto held his eyes as he nodded. “Hell yeah. Always.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about. The future remains bright.”

“What are you two going to do now? Are you staying in the Leaf?”

“No,” Sasuke admitted bluntly, resuming the task of sealing each item into his travelling scrolls. “I know my mission. This doesn’t change that.”

Naruto frowned. “Then Sakura.. is she—”

“Staying here. She has her own goals, and her work is essential to the Leaf. She belongs here.” 

“We can think of a different plan, Sasuke,” Naruto sighed, a sound that was both frustrated and sorrowful. “We can do this thing together.”

“We are doing it together,” Sasuke countered. “This is the only way to do that. The three of us—we each have a role to play. Think of it like stars and orbits.”

“Hmm,” Naruto hummed, that blank squinting confusion passing his features. “What was that now?”

Sasuke tsked. “Forget it. Should have known it would be too complicated for you to understand.”

Naruto started his fake nod, like he was following, even though he clearly wasn’t. “Something about space, got it. I can be a part of this space thing. Because I’m out of this world. Get it?”

“Definitely spacey,” Sasuke deadpanned, smirking at his own joke that still went over Naruto’s head.

The cicada song in Sasuke’s heart grew louder.

.

.

.

“We need to talk.”

Sakura turned from her work of capsulizing the newly aquired H. Perforatum to find Shikamaru there. She was finishing reviewing the anti-depressant’s trial period and clinical practice schedule with Tsunade, smiling as her old mentor assisted and simultaneously tried to pry the details of her last couple months of travelling with Sasuke. Sakura had been blushing furiously from that last very personal question her mentor had boldly asked just before the door had opened.

Tsunade and Sakura had turned to one another in surprise at Shikamaru’s interruption, and big-eyed, Sakura had answered, “okay?” already nervous about the tone of voice delivering that declarative statement.

“What’s got you worked up, Shikamaru?” Tsunade crossed her arms, before leaning in Sakura’s direction and whispering, “Probably overworked. Shizune used to get cranky, too. Or his ponytail is too tight, either one.”

But Shikamaru ignored the loud whispers, staring only at Sakura. “We need to talk about Sasuke.”

Both the sanin and her pupil got very still at that. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” announced Tsunade immediately, ditching Sakura not because she wasn’t going to be the sort of mentor to take Sakura’s side, but because she was the former Hokage, and Sakura knew that Tsunade had had several uncomfortable conversations about the Uchiha with the rest of Team 7 over the years; Sakura suspected she was either staying out of it completely or she believed the conversation might be a necessary one, whatever it was about.

Sakura caught the unwavering determination in the set of Shikamaru’s shoulders. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Sakura tried her best not to immediately bristle or react in Sasuke’s defense. She had a strange sense of deja-vu, recalling that time Sai and Shikamaru had come to talk to her about what needed to be done about Sasuke. The Konoha 11 had decided to take it upon themselves to eliminate Sasuke because Naruto’s defense of him was causing strain with the Hidden Cloud. At the time, it was believed to be essential in avoiding a war with the Hidden Cloud. In the end, Sakura had been the one to try to shoulder it alone, and she had failed. And after all this time, here was Shikamaru, approaching her in the same manner he had done back then, and it made Sakura’s stomach turn violently.

“What about him?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the table. 

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Naruto didn’t want us to tell you. But considering Sasuke’s past, and the importance of our present peace, I feel you ought to know.”

With every word, Sakura’s heart was sinking until it hit the floor. No. It hit the first level of the building. “What? What happened? Whatever it is, I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

Shikamaru sighed before looking her dead in the face. “Sasuke threatened the Leaf, Sakura. Again. He threatened to personally become Konoha’s—no, the entire shinobi world’s—enemy again.”

Sakura froze and her arms fell from their rigged position and her entire body went numb as those word registered. “When? What are you talking about?”

“Back in Sunagakure,” Shikamaru explained brusquely, not pulling the punch of the truth of it. He gave it to her frankly and quickly. “After you left, the Lord Hokage and the Kazekage denied him permission to follow you. Him and Naruto, both. Because that’s what you had asked.”

“And?” Sakura asked breathlessly, not sure why Sasuke was being singled out if he and Naruto had both reacted how she had expected them to. 

“But Sasuke didn’t accept the Hokage’s orders,” Shikamaru continued, like this choice alone was Sasuke’s noose. “Unlike Naruto, he threatened his way out of that room.”

She fell silent, because she didn’t know what to say to that. 

“And Kakashi—not just Kakashi—we all knew he meant it. Every one of us. Kakashi let him leave because of that threat.”

“I’ve talked to him,” Sakura rushed out, panic gripping her chest. Her words came out choppy like the floodwaters of that cave she was suddenly remembering. “He promised…Well, I promised. We will take care of him. Naruto and I will stop him if he ever—"

“Will you?” the shadow-wielder asked incredulously. “Will you two always take the fall for him? Will you always live in fear of his derailment? You two will spend the rest of your lives trying to keep him in line. He ran out of second chances this last time; there aren’t any more.”

“He’s not going to need another one, Shikamaru,” Sakura rushed to reassure him. She was remembering her and Sasuke’s conversation in the black abyss of a fire-lit cave just three nights ago. Right after she had just witnessed Sasuke try to de-limb someone, she had confronted him. “I don’t want to become a detriment to you, Sasuke. I don’t want to be what breaks you,” she had said. To which he had responded with: “It’s a part of me. No matter how hard I try to eradicate it, there’s a monster in here. And we both know what he’s capable of. Even now, I don’t feel regret when I should. I have absolutely no desire to apologize for my actions tonight. But that look on your face is the same expression you looked at me all the times I’ve been lost. I don’t want to see that anymore.” Sakura had promised that she and Naruto would not let him become a monster again and he had told her he could choose her because of it. 

Sakura sucked in a breath, before adding, “It won’t get that far. The world needs Sasuke if there’s to be a future at all.”

“Let me ask you this then,” Shikamaru questioned without delay. “Do you need him more than the world does? His threats were concerning you, Sakura. Naruto told us you two were together now. And whatever. I don’t really care what you two are. What I do care about, is the ninja world, Konoha, and our current peace. That should be your priority as well, Sakura. If cutting Sasuke off is something that will save all of us, I am begging you on behalf of the world to do so.”

.

.

.

It was dusk by the time Sakura finished helping settle the new group of convicts she had delivered this morning and made her way toward her apartment on the outskirts of town. She didn’t know where Sasuke was, but she imagined he was caught up with Naruto, the two probably knocking each other’s teeth out or something somewhere. They had that annoying habit of having to challenge one another to a duel every time they reunited. And to be quite frank, Sakura needed a few minutes to herself just to think. 

She revealed her copy of the apartment key from a hidden jutsu she kept it under when she was away on missions. It materialized into existence on the ground before her, like a stepping stone into a sanctuary. 

Everything was exactly how she had left it. Clean, but bearing evidence of her quick departure. Sasuke’s pallet on the sofa was still there as if it had only been yesterday when Sakura had forced him to stay over. Her father’s clothes that he had borrowed were folded neatly and placed on the arm. Leftover—now expired—Onigri in the fridge. Their clean dishes stacked to the left of the sink. It was incredible how the official beginning of them was right before her face, preserved by the time capsule of four private walls. And yet, despite their previous time of residence, the house had returned to the odor of its original making, the familiar scents of fresh tea and herbal concoctions no longer attaching itself to the walls simply because she had vacated and taken them with her. It suddenly reminded Sakura of the fleetingness of life and of the impending departure of Sasuke once more. The evidence of his presence in her life would be there, but suddenly, hewouldn’t. And he would take his scents, his smirking confidence, his ridiculous stoicism with him. It hadn’t even been twelve hours, and Sakura’s heart already ached for him. How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to accept his leaving again? She couldn’t even bring herself to let him leave, let alone choose to suddenly live without him. Shikamaru had asked her to choose the world. As ridiculous and weak-natured as this self-confession made her, Sasuke was her world. Shikamaru had asked her to make a selfless decision and impossible choice. Shikamaru was asking her to live without her world, so everyone still had theirs to live for. Just as the Konoha 11 had once done years ago.

And Sakura would do it this time, wouldn’t she? That’s what she had told herself the entire walk here. For Konoha, she should. As a Leaf Shinobi, it was her duty to put the village first.

Like a pinprick of light, her eyes found the extra copy of the key on her kitchen counter, the one she had given Sasuke the night she had asked him to come to her as a friend while he was resting in Konoha. The very key he had given back to her, saying no and that he refused the life she offered. It still sat where she had tossed it in dismay several months ago, a cold key that bore no evidence of Sasuke ever holding it. And Sakura suddenly realized that this is what her life would be like, what she had chosen. A home that bore no witness of him being there. It wouldn’t smell like him; it wouldn’t feel like him. It would be hers and he would be a passing star whose light became too far away to even see anymore. And all that was expected of her from everyone else was to not prevent that star from playing its crucial role in the universe. She was to move along on her own orbital path, trying not to prevent their inevitable separation. To be indifferent to their fate. 

But Sakura wasn’t indifferent. She would never be able to be indifferent, and she didn’t know why Shikamaru had tried to tell her to be, because everyone knew how selfish she and Naruto were when it came to Sasuke, didn’t they? They would do exactly as Shikamaru had predicted them to. They would spend the rest of their lives clinging to his sanity forhim. 

Sakura fretted over Sasuke hours into the night as she held on to that key. On her sofa, with tea brewing as an attempt to make her home feel like its old self, Sakura finally realized that it might never feel like home again. Not after being with him these past few months. And she stood from her sofa, the scream of the tea kettle a perfect depiction of what she was suddenly feeling like on the inside. She had to go and find him. Because every second mattered. They were separating, their orbits spinning away from one another, and she needed every minute left of it. And then a myriad of unwanted thoughts came with this most recent realization: What if he already left? Maybe he was late because he wasn’t coming back. He had brought her back to the Leaf and left the first chance he gotten before she could follow him. 

And just before she exited her home in pursuit of the Uchiha once again, she swung open the door to see the man in question raising his hand to knock against the frame. He was shocked for a moment as he unexpectedly came face to face with her, and she stood motionless in the absolute relief of seeing him there. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Then sighed nervously. “I’ll take that key, if it’s still being offered.”

And she almost threw it at him. But she found herself helplessly reaching out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she began to sob uncontrollably. He stiffened at first at the suddenness of her grasping, confused as to why she was crying to the point of hysteria. He pushed her through the entryway and kicked the door shut behind him, wrapping his arm loosely around her waist as his body thawed of his initial embarrassment. “What happened?” he asked lowly, a worried rumble through his chest and throat. “Why are you suddenly crying?”

Sakura’s words came out through rattled breaths, and she pushed back against the surge of panic with an explanation. “I thought—” inhale, “thought y—you’d—” inhale, exhale, inhale, “left.” She cried some more, before attempting to say, “I thought you must have left again.”

He got still. “I promised not to do that anymore, remember?” he automatically reassured her. “We both did. I said I’d find you later, so you’d have no doubt.”

“Yeah,” she found herself exhaling, slowly counting in her mind the way she had taught small children to when they were upset. The tea kettle continued to squeal, and it was deafening, but so was her own thoughts. She clung to him and wouldn’t let go until he led her to the sofa. He walked over to remove the kettle, and like the metaphor to her internal frenzy, the kettle began to quiet as a direct result of his mediation. 

“This is yours.” She reached out her hand to drop the key into his single palm when he came to stand before her once more. “It always has been. Even before you wanted it.” She stared down as he took it from her hands, and she didn’t see what he did with it, but heard the rustle of his clothing as he tucked it away somewhere. 

His silence felt unsure, and Sakura knew his mind was probably spiraling, afraid he would say something else to set her off. And so Sakura whispered, “It’s not much of a home and it’s small, but when you’re here, it can be yours, too.”

He nodded, attempting to ease her concerns about their mutual habitation needs by saying. “I won’t be in your way. You can live wherever you like.”

She began to cry again at that, and Sakura could tell by his stricken face that he suddenly realized it had been the wrong thing to say after all. It broke his hesitancy, and he reached his palm forward and ran his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone, wiping the tears there. “Don’t cry. I’m saying that you will be home to me.”

She nodded, trying to calm herself, which his soothing gesture was helping immensely. She leaned into it, hoping he never moved it away. Sakura was comforted immensely at the thought of being Sasuke’s home to return to, even if Sakura spent a lifetime waiting for her home to return to her. “I’m sorry. I’m always crying.”

“And I’m the one always making you, it seems like.” He confessed with a frown. “I hate that.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s just been a day.” 

Sasuke didn’t respond to that, so Sakura asked the next looming question on her mind, “When are you leaving?”

He sucked in a breath, not quite ready to tell her, but then exhaled. “Tomorrow. In the morning.”

Already? She wanted to cry again. Her tears rushed to her eyes the longer he refused to clarify, modify, or ask her to come with him. “So that was it, then? Our time together has stopped?”

“I’m going to continue to find the leader of the organization who is after you. I’ll find him first before I continue to pursue the Otsusuki. There’s not much more time to delay. We’ve delivered the rest of them to Kakashi. I must continue on, now.”

“I can help you,” she tried, knowing he would deny her anyway. “I can help you with the Zenshin leader and make more chakra pills for you when you run out.”

He was looking down between them, at the careful space kept between them on the auburn-colored sofa. “After what you’ve recently done, you deserve to rest. You’ll be safe here, and I’ll have peace knowing that, while I do the mission only I can do.”

She wasn’t ready to give this topic up. She argued anyway, Shikamaru’s voice like a ticking clock in the back of her mind as she approached the discussion she needed to have with him yet again. “What if they come for me here? While you’re away, Mozai could come. It would be his next logical step.”

“He wouldn’t come here and risk having to deal with Kakashi and Nar—"

She pushed on. “What if they find and kill me? What are you going to do if that happens, Sasuke?”

He got very still as those words registered, not because he was angry at the idea of it or fearful of it becoming true. He froze with a staring sourness of narrowed eyes, because he had caught on to the direction of her conversation. She suddenly knew that Sasuke had just learned that she was told about his choice words of a threat back in Sunagakure. 

She steeled herself at that stare, swallowing back the discomfort of the confrontation. “Are you going to avenge me? Are you going to become an enemy of the world again if someone else is taken from you?”

Sasuke stood from the couch at her words, turning his back on her in the darkness of the room. “I’m getting really tired of this conversation,” he retorted scornfully. “I have already had it twice today.”

“So it’s true,” she laughed mirthlessly, standing up along with him as she stared at his bowed head and bent shoulders. “You really said that? Why? You never would have said something like that as far as I was concerned in the past. You’ve risked everything you have worked toward over the last two years by doing that!”

He had started to walk away from her as she spoke, every word stiffening his posture. His only response was, “Who told you what I said? Was it Naruto? Kakashi?”

Sakura ignored his redirection, because she had to say this. She had to do this so when the time came for her to be accountable for her own actions in the world, Sakura could use this conversation as an excuse for why she couldn’t do more than this. She continued. “Why did you say that? Why go to that extent because I went on a mission of my ownvolition? In the past, I was always the ‘annoying’ person who was in your way, and now you’ve made me a liability to the world?”

“You’re being annoying right now,” he droned, using that tone of voice that always made her body fill with ice. Instead of the playful connotation of that word, it now reminded her of all the times he had chastised her and been cruel on purpose. It still hurt when he used it that way. He sighed and turned to face her then at her silence, and Sakura could see the small regret of those words. So he clarified. “You’re my wife. I’m allowed to say that I will avenge you, and I’ll make sure the world knows that I will.”

“We had made no vows when you said that. We weren’t serious yet—"

He was getting angrier every time she tried to speak. It caused him to spill secrets he had kept for a long time, words that would heal Sakura’s pain from the past and sustain her like fodder throughout her future of loneliness. “I knew where it was headed. I’ve known for a long time. Since before I left the Leaf, I knew what you would become to me. It’s why I said and did those things to you. To keep you away from me. You were supposed to hate me so this would never happen. I would have avenged you when we were genin together on Team 7, maybe even after at some points. And I would do so now. As I would for Naruto, or Kakashi even.”

After a moment, more tears streamed down her face, because Sasuke didn’t know the gravity of what he just confessed. She still hadn’t gotten to the hard part, because Sakura had been asked to do everything she could to protect the world, but she just couldn’t give Sasuke up. Her and Naruto both; he would be their weakness for life. So, she had to do the next extreme, and very gutsy thing she could think of. “I need you to add it to your vow to me. Right now. That you neverwill. If I am killed tomorrow—or Naruto, or Kakashi—you’ll never choose revenge again. You told me that night that the world will not pay for us loving one another.”

Sasuke laughed, scornfully. Like she had just said something funny, and Sakura had never seen him laugh except for when he was wrapped in darkness. He laughed again in utter exhaustion, rubbing his palm down across his face. Maybe it was the trauma of the past coming back to haunt her, but it made her blood run cold at the familiarity.

In a flash of panicked anger, Sakura pulled out her kunai and angled it toward her heart. There was a sound of metal, and Sasuke’s laughter died immediately at the sight of it, and a still rage filled his eyes as they widened at her actions. She wasn’t swayed by that wrath, and when he instantly made to make an interfering step toward her, she drew it closer to her chest, stilling him straightaway.

“Now you’re the one making stupid threats, Sakura.” He sneered lowly and she could see the flash of his red Sharingan. She was going to run out of time to make this stupid bluff of a facade count. It was an extreme thing to do maybe, but she couldn’t think of another way to get him to see what he had done by putting her in a position of choosing him or choosing Konoha. “Shikamaru said I needed to cut ties with you,” she explained. “That being with you was a risk. But I can’t do that because I am selfish. What I should do is end myself now for the sake of the village, because my life is not worth the risk you pose to the world. That’s what you will be asking me to do if you continue using my life as the rationale for your recent behavior. If you keep making threats like this, then it will be the only thing I can do to save it.”

“That bastard didn’t tell you everything I said,” he hissed, furiously, a quiet sound that still jarred her nerves just as much as the screeching tea kettle had. “I also said that I wouldn’t survive it. I said the world would just as likely fall to the Otsusuki in my absence. And that’s the truth. You dying will make a shell out of me, if not outright kill me, too.”

Her hand lowered at those words, and the Uchiha saw it with his Sharingan, and the next thing Sakura knew, she was no longer holding that kunai as it was transported places with the handle of that still-hot tea kettle. The metal singed her skin as it swung in the air and she winced before dropping it. Sasuke rushed forward and caught the handle himself before it could hit the ground, and he glared at her as he placed it on the table before the sofa. 

“Cheap trick,” she chided, as he came very close to stand before her. He held her eyes with red and purple irises. She didn’t look away.

“Don’t you ever do that again, even to make a point. If you don’t want to be with me because you choose the world, fine. None of your choices change what we are to one another.” Every word was sharp and stony. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, believe me, but you would have to erase our past. I tried that. And you fought to make me remember. All of you did. So now you have to live with that choice.”

“Tell me what do,” Sakura pleaded. “Tell me how I can love you and still protect the world from you.”

“You just have to live. Because of you, I will continue. I will find the Otsusuki race and eliminate them as a threat so that I can return to you, just like I promised. And if someone ever dared to touch you, they would die for it, and Naruto would prevent it from going beyond that. And if Naruto dies, it will be you who I have to cling to. You all just have to accept that.”

“I can’t stop you, Sasuke. And I can’t kill you. I’ll never be able to kill you. Even after you tried to kill me, yourself, I couldn’t follow through. I’ll never be able to stop you from another path of destruction because, like I said, I’m selfish. Despite what Shikamaru said, I can’t choose the world over you. My choice will always be you. Just as it was the day you left me the first time. I’d even go as far as to help you with revenge. As always, I’m pitiful. I’m hopeless. I’m in love with you. I love you more than the world. What kind of ninja does that make me? It makes me a traitor.”

His irritation faded as she confessed this long stream of thoughts to him. He reached forward and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her the rest of the way to him. “No. It makes you an Uchiha.”

More tears fell down her cheeks as he pulled her mouth the rest of the way to his. And he was pushing her toward the couch. Down onto the surface of it as he claimed her mouth with his. And it was a frantic exploration with his tongue, a touching that was high with the intoxication of tormenting truths, threats, and confessions. A type of kissing that came after you thought you might never get to do so again. In a way, he made it bruising and punishing, for having even dared to do what she had.

He pressed her body deep into the couch as he straddled her waist and Sakura reached up and desperately clung to the collar of his shirt. He leaned over her, fist tangled in her hair as he pulled her head flush against the headrest of the sofa to reveal her throat. Sakura’s skin prickled at the roughness. 

“I told you there would be no going back for us,” he breathed against her jawline, sending gooseflesh into the scalp of her head and along her arms. “It’s too late, remember? We get to choose each other, and I’ll even vow to you that the world will not pay for this. I have already chosen the world for all of us. You get to choose me and not live with the guilt of it. I won’t become who I used to be. Because I don’t want to see you look at me like that.”

She nodded before his mouth found hers again. It was hot, sweltering, fueled with the fire-nature of his chakra. He meant to burn her up, completely. So that when he had to leave tomorrow morning, she could still feel the heat of him. She would allow herself to be burned from his heat because then at least something would remain of him.

He pushed her clothing down around her, pulling the shirt up and over her head between kisses, demanding the attention of her mouth. In the next instant, he was pulling something from his cloak. A red bundle the size of his fist. Still straddling her lap, he unfurled it in front of her face. An Uchiha crest, front and center on the backside of a perfect rendition of the shirt she had just been wearing, hung before her like a territorial flag. She outright gasped.

“For a second, you had me thinking you were done with me, and I wasn’t going to get to give this to you,” he sighed between labored panting, his heart still beating loudly from their heated proximity. “I had it made today. You’ll wear it in my stead, won’t you?”

Sakura’s face hurt at this point from crying so much, and she was sure it was splotchy and red, but it didn’t stop her from crying more. She nodded through tears and Sasuke showed her his rare, sporadic smile. She slipped it over her head and he stood, pulling her with him and spinning her so he could see it on her. She blushed at the scrutiny, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her shyness melted away when he abandoned his own, tilting her chin up to claim her mouth once more. 

“You’re now the only Uchiha woman in this world,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve never seen someone look as beautiful as you do right now. Wearing that.” 

Okay, maybe her bashfulness hadn’t completely vanished, because she was blushing furiously after he said that. And with it, she experienced a sudden moment of disassociation. Could this even be real? Just moments ago, she was dramatically threatening her own life, and now she didn’t care about anything else other than simply just living for him. To have more of him. Every second, even in madness, she would take it all. Because she was selfish. Because she didn’t care about anything else and never had. 

But his hot mouth on hers grounded her. He was real and she could have him. And she could look Shikamaru confidently in his face from now on, regardless of her choice, because he, too, was a star locked in his own orbit of destiny, but Sasuke was the sun of her life and meant to burn her. And he did. 

The steam of herbal tea intensified that heat, searing the press of him, the feel of him, his mouth on hers into the memory of ‘home,’ and it lingered long into the blissful after. And at some point during their kissing, Sasuke reached above her head to crack open the window behind her, letting in the nighttime fading sound of hot summer cicadas and crickets. “I want to hear them. I want to remember this when I hear them.” 

She felt for him, pulling his shirt away from his muscular back, and he felt feverish, but they both knew he wasn’t sick. Just intoxicated with adrenaline and need. Sasuke continued to push her down into the very couch where she had been sitting in despair moments ago, and when he became parallel with her own body, reaching into her waistband, she hooked her leg up and over his hip so he could reach exactly where he was aiming. 

Before things escalated further and they lost themselves to the mindlessness of burning a second time, Sakura pulled back and reached into her pocket, revealing a tiny vial of citrine tinted liquid sloshing from the movements of its revelation. “Take this. So that there’s no uncertainty,” Sakura explained. “Tsunade helped me make it today. Its common here for men to take a contraceptive, as well. We’ll both be covered.” His euphoric expression of concentration turned into a frown as he met her eyes in understanding. He looked at it and then looked at her. 

. . .

Sasuke held that concoction with pure hatred. Shikamaru and Naruto, both, could take a damn hike and take their holier-than-thou lectures elsewhere. Because they got to stay in the Leaf and fuck their women, plant themselves with abandon in order to take root in the woman of their dreams and watch their children grow inside of them. Sasuke didn’t get to do that. He got a few moments of blissful ecstasy with years to divide them, and watch their families grow like mocking gardens of happiness while he dragged Sakura into the deep dark earth of a baren family tree. She would be the only branch of his dying lineage unless he could complete his goal, first. 

Which is why he had to leave tomorrow, so he could come back to her free of conflicting obligation.

Their eyes held one another’s as he pulled the stopper. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, swallowing that putrid mixture of protection that was simultaneously a death sentence of a future disguised as responsibility. It was a choice he had to make for the both of them, and it killed him to do it. But he told himself that Sakura was enough for now. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits. 

Sasuke didn’t have time to evaluate the effects of such a potion, to see if it dulled his need, because his wife was now rising from the sofa and sinking on to the floor. And those knees hit the ground and he realized what she was planning to do as she tried to rotate his body in the direction of her face. Oh hell no. Not like that.

“Get up,” he instructed.

“I want to,” she confessed, thinking he was stumbling over his own nervousness as she had done back in the cave. He most certainly was not. 

“No,” he said in finality, pulling at her. “Get off your knees. Uchiha women don’t get on their knees for anyone. Not even their husbands.” 

Her eyes widened at that statement, and she allowed him to pull her from the floor. “How would you even know that?”

And Sasuke specifically remembered his father snatching his mother’s cleaning rag from her as she stooped on the ground to clean the dirt that had been tracked in. “Get up,” he had told her as he took the chore over himself. “You have two sons who are more than capable of doing that. I better never see you on your knees again.” When it had happened, Sasuke had been shocked by the angry reproach from his father, but his mother had only laughed and walked out of the room brightly. Sasuke hadn’t understood such context at the time—well, other than the fact that whatever had just happened meant he would soon be having to scrub floors. But he understood now, in this moment, what his father had been doing. And even if the situation had some sort of different context he wouldn’t ever have answers to, he suddenly knew that it was going to be a rule in his relationship from now on. Because he would set the precedent. He was the only one left to make those rules. 

He didn’t explain it to her in that moment, because time did not allow for it. Instead, he copied his father’s tone to the best of his ability. “Just stay off your knees.”

He was really leaving tomorrow. He was going to be walking away from this again. That’s what Sasuke was thinking as he captured her mouth. Sasuke was selfish and despite what he had told her moments ago, he wanted to ask her to come with him on his mission. He held his tongue, because then she wouldn’t be safe in Konoha anymore. She would be sacrificing her own dream and her own work here. But as their bodies found home in one another, Sasuke lost his will to hold back that request. He had changed his mind. She could come. He would let her come with him. Stay beside him for the whole of it if she didn’t care to sacrifice her own important work here in the Leaf. He could take her up on her promise from all those years ago, because he couldn’t stay, but maybe, just maybe he could take her with him. 

Sakura let out a surprised yelp when their bodies dematerialized and reappeared on her (their?) bed. A new array of scents greeted him with the change, and this room felt sacred. Because it was where she had slept every night for the last several years without him. The bedding emitted the very essence of her sweet fragrance, as if it were the concentration of all things her. This bed had just become the ribcage of his new home, where the beating heart of it would sleep waiting for his return. 

When he had replaced the two of them on the couch with the pillows of her bed, Sasuke had flipped her onto her stomach. He wanted to see the Uchiha crest. He wanted to truly be with her as she wore that symbol of his. 

They came back together, and Sasuke voiced what he had once wanted to say to her back then and what he wanted to say now. “Come with me.”

In the heat of things, she didn’t catch the true meaning of his words, interpreting it for its double entendre.

“No,” he clarified, when they lay next to one another and panted shallowly. “Come with me. I am asking you to come with me.”

“What?” she asked, her head shooting up and she raised onto her elbows to look at him. “You’re asking me to come on your mission with you?” Were those more tears? He hated seeing her cry. 

“Yes. Come with me, Sakura.” It wasn’t time for their orbits to separate yet. Maybe they could hold on just a little longer.