#ill never escape. the ultimate couple to end all couples

[whatthefuckisasweep]

one thing i really like abt grimmons is, in a way, the only thing really in the way of it is their rancid communication skills and pathetic inexperience with romance. like, grif and simmons both know everyone else fucking knows. they also do couple-y things and they KNOW it. the thing is they just DONT fucking talk about it. they are ALLERGIC to feelings and talking it out. its NOT a matter of stupidity and ignorance — they just dont fucking know how to even BEGIN to navigate it, and it fucking kills me dead.

i LOVE that. i love how theres this really unspoken codependency that toes the line and breaks both of their brains.

its not quite pining in the traditional sense of the word. but its not like its unrequited. its like mutual emotional twister. how far can we go without directly tackling the issue? how the fuck do we even adapt traditional romance when we’re fucking 40 or something and all we’ve known is war and death and sarcasm? left hand red, right hand orange. LOL

[romanoffsbish]

Excavate My Love

Originally titled “Oh Honey… You Should go to Therapy” 😗✌🏼| Hurt/Comfort | WC: 2,384

Warnings: Abusive Parents | Homophobia Referenced / Internal & External | Self-Harm (Punching) | Intense Feelings | Parental Issues / Heavy on Maternal | Nat’s Parentless | Self-Loathing |

Natasha felt a tension in the air as soon as she entered your apartment, it was her home away from home since you were in it; she essentially lived here anyways. It had been only two months as a couple, but you'd known (and loved) each other for years by now. The words might not have left your timid lips yet, but you were feeling every ounce of joy and pain imaginable. The sensation was odd, to feel the conflicting emotions at the same time while also feeling that pure, raw love.

You were trembling with the need to say it to her, but you were petrified and having a nervous breakdown.

——

Natasha saw you pounding a fist into the side of your head as you sobbed and screamed incoherently. The redhead took you down with gentle precision. Her body pressing your thrashing one into the mattress.

"Detka, what's wrong?" Natasha slammed your arms into the bed and pressed your head into the pillow with her own, then she began to hum a soft, raspy lullaby. The thrashing came to an end when you felt her tear trail down your cheek, and mix with your sweaty hair.

You blinked rapidly and your mind came back to you before it escaped again, but now she was out in the open. The deepest of your fears came tumbling out.

"She won't love you back," you mumbled, mimicking your priorly echoing thoughts. "Don't say it dumbass."

Natasha was mortified, had she really not been clear enough? Her heart never stopped aching when she was apart from you, a side effect of the muscle finally being at rest unlike when it races beside yours everyday.

It sadly wasn't anything she did, and the same was to be said for what she could've done. This was inevitable, you were like clay, soft, fragile; destined to crack.

Fate, or more so, your childhood had led you here.

Your mother drowned her liver in booze and offered you tobacco stained cheek kisses as you were ushered out of the house in ill fitting clothes, hair sopping wet in the dead of a New York Winter. The chill froze your childish face, skin stinging as the warmth of your tears began to defrost your chubby cheeks. It was fitting.

Unlike your parents, with each other or parenthood.

Your dad only came around from time to time to see (use) your mother. They'd made your little brother while you played outside, the streets empty of kids as the lights flickered on, but you weren't alone, you had your growing family of broken rocks to talk to. And the neighbors to eat from because your mother gave up the grocery money so your dad could enter the lottery.

At school you'd do stupid things, like eat food off the floor with a shoe print as a dare, because just like every time before he lost, and you paid the ultimate price.

It was a wonder how you even got this far in life. That the ability to love another wasn't missing, but in the pits of the fire you wished it was. It was all too much.

You only learned how to love from shitty television like Grey's Anatomy and corny romcoms. Oddly enough, the contradictions brought you a sense of peace. The hope was vaguely flickering inside of you, but the looming tragedy was always just a breath away. It was oddly comforting to see love at both ultimate extremes.

It softened the blow of your life. Watching Callie and Arizona is what made you realize you loved women. That and while everyone was drooling over the odd McMen, the resident Christina Yang, held your heart in the palm of her hands. Unapologetically herself, with a middle finger up to society, and everything that you found charming in a woman; in your Natasha.

Meredith reminded you too much of yourself, as you too took the worst parts of your parents to make up your personality. Until Natasha, you too found yourself drowning your liver most nights, following in your mother's footsteps, then after you were seeing blobs instead of people, your fathers as you took women home for fun. Breaking their hearts, but unlike him, the rubber was fastened to your waist with efficiency.

You were cold, and downright sadistic. You'd whisper lusty things into their ears, along with the sweet, building up their hopes for something more. Then you'd kick them out, in the dead of winter—your cousins taxi service made loads of money off of you.

You didn't care; love had only ever left you bruised.

That's why you sent the women anonymous apology flowers, because you obviously didn't care. You were as cold as the ice that encased your parent's hearts, or you at least tried to be. Truth be told though, beneath the well polished, stoic surface you were just a fragile little thing in search of a nurturing kind of love.

The love of a mother one would suppose, alas...

You hadn't seen or heard from her in over a decade. Except for when she tried to hustle you out of money the moment they saw you with Natasha online. Up until then they hadn't called you, it was sickening.

Your parents had kicked you out at sixteen when they caught you kissing Lily; they weren't homophobic. That you knew because your mom used to bone your ex-godmother and your father had special toys and modern women ran in the opposite direction of him (his decayed, crooked smile was genuinely off putting).

Your father tossed you out, but your mother slammed the door. After midnight, once your dad had gone to sleep she exited her house with a bag of your things. Flashes of a group home raced through your mind and you felt the tears sting your icy cheeks, a tobacco kiss laid to your skin to be followed by a deafening silence.

Her loss stung more. With him it was expected, but not with her because it wasn't always like this, but when she lost her mind that ability to love unconditionally followed. She didn't need him, yet she let him call the shots, choosing a twisted affair over the everlasting love of a child—her instincts barren. You don't exactly remember everything, some of the memories have been buried deep in your psyche, but the core ones never leave, they haunt you endlessly. You'll never forget the image of your little brother crying, face pressed to his window as he watched you leaving.

Your parents were the nightmare that hid behind the fable that is the American Dream. They were vile and you reckon he's the only reason your heart worked.

Your heart that beat for only a select few people. One of them being the woman restraining you to a bed.

"Y/N," Natasha said your name for the millionth time, "I need you to come back to me now moya lyubov'."

Your lip began to tremble and she could feel the shake of your skin with her forehead pressed to yours. "Oh honey," she'd coo'd, which really only set you back off as you felt entirely too undeserving of her love.

You knew you were deserving of some love though.

"I deserved better," you mumbled and her heart froze as she hadn't heard the phrase clearly. "W-what?" The redhead had been trying not to blame herself but now she wasn't so sure if she heard your words correctly.

She hadn't, and you forcefully pushed her back some to repeat your prior words. "And so do you Nat."

"Y/N," she said in a plea, "You're making no sense."

"I'm not good enough for you Natasha! I am hellish!"

Natasha scoffed, "You are plenty good!"

"No, I'm really not."

"Knock it off!" Natasha was pissed, but not at you. It all was making sense to her now and she couldn't cope with the appearing reality. "I'm damaged goods Natasha, how could you ever want me?" I-If my own parents didn't want me, then neither should you."

Natasha never had parents, so she didn't understand. But as she felt you trying to hit yourself (again), making her—the Black Widow, actually struggle she's not sure she really wanted to. Alexei and Melina, who gave her back to Dreykov seemed better to her now.

"Detka please," the woman pleaded, the croak in her voice bringing you to a sudden stop. In a split second the woman had rolled off of you, which nearly made you whine but your body followed hers. Natasha now sat with her back to the headboard with you between her legs, your head gently cradled to her chest while her other hand cautiously pressed into your back.

The redhead said nothing, partly because she wanted to give you space, but also because she didn't want to scare you off. You'd just voiced your wish to leave, and for her sake nonetheless. Silent tears streamed down her face as she prematurely mourned your love story.

Tragedy was more fitting. Natasha was conditioned not to feel and you went from batches of numb to these moments of total despair that you usually hid well. So well even that Natasha is only just seeing it, there were cracks in your resolve before, but never to this extent. Natasha was rightfully worried, she also understood.

The world was a cruel place, with unfair rules and devious people in charge. You were both outcasts in terms of societal standards, but you shouldn't be because one's past mistakes, or moments of despair shouldn't make up the entire person's story. They deserved better than to be held with such ignorance.

"I never had anything to call my own before you."

You jumped, startled by her voice that was full of fatigue and pain after an hour of eery silence. It had you sitting up, against her push, and facing her more directly. Breaking you even further, if that was even possible, as you saw her unmistakably bloodshot eyes.

"Natasha," you whimpered, hand traveling up to clean her face of tears, she smiled fondly as her lips pressed to your palm before she lifted her head to hold eye contact more fiercely. "What I deserve is you, Y/N."

"I-."

"I deserve to hold you in times like these, and to get the chance to show you how much I love you. Because I do detka, with all of me, and it's okay: our love is safe."

"No love is safe," you chuckled bitterly and she sighed, "Ours is Y/N, because we will work to make it such. I promise you that I will protect you from the worst."

"You can't promise that."

"I can," she cut you off, "I can and I will because the option of you leaving is not one I'll ever align with."

"I'm messed up Nat." The redhead nodded, lips lifting into a pained smile. "I know honey, but that's okay."

"Is it?" Natasha nodded again, and pulled your body even closer, your chests now touching. "For now, yes."

"What about the later?" You brokenly inquired.

"I would be there too, but I hope the later is better," she murmured against your cheek, lips softly kissing your wet skin. "I'll do anything to make sure you are okay detka. You are my main priority, which is why I plan to move in, officially, and take care of you."

"Nat—." Your rebuttal was cut off by a sweet kiss. "None of that detka, just tell me you love me too."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you wondered if she felt the rumble too. If she did, she took no offense as she smiled at you, it was uncharacteristically timid.

You saw a flicker of doubt in her eyes; Natasha needed to hear them just as much as you needed to shout 'em.

Which is why you blurted, "I love you so much it burns, like if I took my shirt off my skin might be torched."

Natasha chuckled, unintentionally, because she knew you'd mistake the affection for mockery. "I love you so much that it feels like I'm without a heart when away. My mission's efficiency rates are so high because of it."

A sigh of relief left her when you chuckled, it was also in relief, she knew that much as your body stopped squirming; you stayed in her lap and pouted instead.

She chuckled, "What is it now lyubov'?" Natasha knew by the glow of your eyes that she could be playful now. You knew she already knew what you wanted, but you leaned up and stole a kiss on principle of being a brat.

"I'm sorry."

"No," Natasha softly scolded you. "I'm sorry detka, for not seeing you were in so much pain and suffering with your feelings. I should have made you feel my love."

"I did feel you Natty, I-I just couldn't believe in it."

"Why not?"

"It's never been true before, every person who's ever made me feel loved was only ever placating me," you solemnly said, "I know they didn't intend to do it, in the beginning they felt something, but it was a selfish fulfillment sorta thing. I have always been the person people go to in search of unconditional love, because I will give it without question, they'd twist it out of me. But you weren't twisting, and it's all so confusing."

"That's not love," Natasha grimaced, "I'm not an expert here Y/N, in fact I'm a late bloomer with the entire feeling, but I know now that I'd never give this up."

"Most days I feel like giving up, my mind is a void and you deserve a partner that doesn't come with that."

"Please stop pushing that," Natasha sighed, exhaustion obvious as she ran her free hand down her face. "I'm not going anywhere, you deserve someone that stays."

You mulled over her words for a long minute, both of you holding your breath, and only ever releasing it as you nuzzled into her warmth and whispered, "Then I'm glad it's you, my fiercest protector, my love, my Natty."

"My precious love," Natasha followed, "My beautiful, strong, resilient as one can be, detka—my Y/N."

[angelosearch]

Hooray Tumblr is letting me post this now!!

The following is a super intense, probably too personal essay about trying to process the overwhelmingly GOOD news that I got into grad school.

I wasn't sure about posting this, but ultimately, it is a story about never giving up, because you never know where you will be in a couple of years. So maybe this will help someone who is struggling with feelings of being trapped in their own lives.

It can get better, and it will.

I look at my life right now and I am so overwhelmed and grateful. I get to be creative every day. I am writing again. I am always learning new things about art and psychology. I have a lovely home and amazing husband and great dog that I cherish. I have met some incredible people that, now that they are in my life, I never want them to leave.

And now I have gotten into grad school.

It all seems impossibly fantastic and I wonder what I did to deserve this. There is also a part of me that is curious when I will mess it up, but in this big tangle of emotions I am feeling, I am trying not to dwell on those.

There is a cord of sentiment that is thicker and wrapped around the rest. Something that I can't put a name to, but it has a color the shade of something thankful. Every time I twirl it around my mind I start to tear up.

It is the feeling that I am living a life I never could have imagined in my darkest days and I am just... so so so happy I am still here for them.

In the winter of 2020, after a life-long battle with mental illness, I gave up. I didn't try to give up, I actually gave up. It is only by some kindness of the universe that I am still here to type this post.

Suicide is a permanent answer to a temporary question--but the problem is, when you spend a good portion of your life haunted by depression and trauma and a voice that tells you that you have nothing to offer the world, the question does not seem temporary. When I became unable to imagine an escape from a job that made me feel worthless, a chronic illness that put me in pain and left me in isolation, a blanket of guilt I could not shake, and a global tragedy with no end in sight, I took my own emergency exit. It was like jumping out of the window of a burning building on the 32 floor. I believed I would die either way, but the fall to the ground would require less suffering.

I was lucky enough to be caught on the way down - but I didn't feel lucky. They wanted to put me back in the building, and now the fire was hotter and had consumed my furniture.

I woke up in a very poorly run psych ward. So poorly run, my husband did not know where I had been taken for 18 hours after he called 911. I was given a roommate who was way too much like my mother, and I slowly became manic without the knowledge of the staff. They discharged me a few days before Christmas.

I had been hypomanic before, but I never had a word for it. When I was crying at the sunset that night and feeling so energetic and happy (and telling the funniest jokes I had ever told, from my skewed perspective), I just thought I was happy to be alive. But I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep. My pressured speech and grandiose ideas scared my husband and I ended up in psych ward #2 (a much nicer one). I had to spend one night in the ER screaming and hallucinating, believing my heart would give out before I'd fall asleep, before I got there, though.

They called it "manic psychosis." I called it "the darkest timeline."

On Christmas eve, I was given the gift of a new diagnosis: bipolar disorder. I was too unstable to know what that meant or to conceptualize that the burning building was crumbling in some parts.

On the day I was discharged, I slept very little and was extremely lethargic. I had trouble moving and my assigned counselor had to prop me up to help me to his office. I don't know why they discharged me when I had to be taken downstairs in a wheelchair, but they did.

I was in urgent care not 24 hours later when I could no longer walk or sit up, and I even had trouble speaking. A nice EMT, who I remember had a name that included two US presidents, though I don't recall which, took me to my third hospital in two weeks. By time I made it to my room, I had trouble swallowing and was put on a liquid diet.

It is hard to say what the worst part of this terrifying saga was. However, laying in that hospital bed with no ability to regulate my body temperature, stuck awake and unable to move with relentless, restless, manic energy, without so much as the relief of distraction from the picture on the tiny hospital TV because I didn't have my glasses, was excruciating in ways I still have trouble coming to terms with. I watched a lot of basketball, I think, by the squeaky sounds of the shoes.

After being assaulted by a frustrated nurse on New Year's Eve, I laid in my hospital bed wishing for the release of sleep while hospital staff hooted and hollered distantly for the ball drop. 2021 had begun and I was in the darkest place I had ever been.

When I could eat by myself again and manageably push around a walker, I was discharged on a rainy January day. No one could say for sure why my strange, temporary paralysis happened. Could have been the benzos I had taken too many of. Could have been the adjustment to the Lithium that would chase away the mania. Most likely, it was the sloppy transition off of Effexor at the first psych ward.

I was finally back in my burning building. I was fired from my job as soon as I had the strength to hold a phone. I had to explain and apologize to friends and family who were stunned and afraid of my actions. And then January 6th happened. In a few days, I would have to start physical therapy and a Partial Hospitalization Program (group therapy school).

I looked at my disintegrating surroundings and thought they expect me to fight for this? Why? I wished I had been successful in my attempt but I had only succeeded in making my life harder.

I guess those who cheered me on could see the possibility of my happiness and success, but I had a lot of trouble catching a glimpse. I went to another psych ward at the beginning of 2022 and ended up in a residential care facility for Halloween and Thanksgiving that year. I had two different jobs, both I ended up quitting for treatment. I tried group therapy and different therapists. I switched medications countless times and even tried Ketamine therapy for a while. Up until April of 2023 (when I started EMDR) or so, it really all felt hopeless, but for some reason, I fought for the unknowable just beyond the horizon. I kept asking for help.

And now I am here, and I can't believe all of this almost didn't happen.

I look around my office and see pieces of art I would have never created. I would have missed concerts and weddings and road trips. There is so much music I would have never listened to! I would have never rediscovered my childhood passions and learned how to be myself. I would never have met some very important people in my life.

It almost never happened, but I was given a second chance.

I have so many feelings right now, some good, some bad. I am excited. I am anxious. I wonder if I can handle the challenge and I fear my bragging or arrogance. But the biggest feeling is my desire to go back in time and hold a version of myself that couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel and kept walking anyway.

Now we get to chase our dreams, and teach other people to hold on like you did.

[onewhoturns]

A-Z Challenge GAME 5

Starting D today, so here we have: E games!

This one is... hm. To be honest, with the first-person games I'm a *little* concerned that I might feel nauseous if I try to muscle through a couple of these in a short time frame >< The only one I'm sure won't make me sick is Erica, but I've played a demo of Eternal Threads and it was mostly okay, not sure what to expect from Escape Academy, but just might not be a one- or two-session knockout, if it makes me feel ill -.-'

I also would need to find people able to play a session with me for that game, cause some of those achievements are multiplayer, but not many

As always, more info on the games under the cut.

Do me a solid this round cause y'all have ignored all the other fmv games and all the horror/thriller stuff from last round and I want to play one

1. Erica (2021)

"Prepare to immerse yourself in an interactive live-action thriller, merging the world of film and game like never before. Erica is a young lady plagued with nightmares of her father's murder. With the traumatic events of her childhood dragged back into the light via grisly new clues, it's up to you to unearth the shocking truth. Explore the enigma of Delphi House where every choice you make influences how the game develops, with multiple endings awaiting you at the finale of the gripping branching narrative." Steam tags: choose your own adventure, fmv, interactive fiction, female protagonist, point & click, choices matter, puzzle, story rich, action

2. Escape Academy (2022)

"Welcome to Escape Academy. Train to become the ultimate Escapist. Solve Puzzles. Hack Servers. Meet the Faculty. Brew the perfect cup of tea. Escape Rooms in single player or co-op with a friend - local or online!" Steam tags: escape room, puzzle, multiplayer, online co-op, visual novel, adventure, casual, mystery, story rich

3. Eternal Threads (2022)

"Eternal Threads is a single-player, first-person story-driven puzzle game of time manipulation, choice and consequence. As an operative tasked with fixing corruption in the timestream, you have been sent to the North of England in May 2015, where six people died in a house fire. Prohibited from simply stopping the fire, you must instead manipulate the choices made by the housemates in the week leading up to it so that they all survive the event." Steam tags: choices matter, story rich, multiple endings, time manipulation, investigation, emotional, adventure, atmospheric

[notnights]

Random fun acetate ribbun fact? Good fic!!!!

As in this is your fun fact, or you're asking me for a fun fact? (Either way thanks hehe.)

Uh lets see fun fact. I mentioned this the other day but deleted it because I don't like giving away too much about a story though it's technically not spoilers either but like people to figure out the beats themselves. But ehh uhhh:

Its about Kinger and Queenie being the original hanahaki case in the in the story. I dropped a few hints about it, but I don't know how well it came across. It's hard to know what a reader's view might be compared to yours when you know all the twist and turns you put in ya know?

Since we know nothing about those two yet, I kind of threw them under the narrative bus in the sense I used them in whatever way I wanted to help with the story lol. One day we're gonna find out what their deal was, and my fic will be outdated as it possibly depicts them as completely inaccurate. (Imagine they're divorced.)

I was originally going to leave just a single hint in chapter one as a solo; Kinger mentioning he was vomiting up affection. As well as him explaining how yellow camellias symbolize longing; fitting for them in the Digital Circus. They long for an escape; it's their default flower. And then him gifting camellias to Queenie, was meant to imply he was also vomiting up those same flowers.

I however ended up adding more hints in chapter 3 and 4 though. I'll leave those as a surprise to reread for unless folks can't find them and want me to point them out.

This was meant to be evident to the audience, but not to the characters. As every time the couple come up I also have Gangle look at them as a frame of reference. She admires this love they had, that she never saw herself. How nice it must have been compared to this horrible love story she's experiencing now. But she is blissfully ignorant that Kinger and Queenie also had a rough start.

Admittedly NOT as rough of a start as Gangle and Jax did of course. I like to imagine Caine gave them the same prescription but, Queenie was neutral about Kinger before then, unlike Gangle who already resented Jax. And Kinger was kind to Queenie prior to his illness unlike Jax who's been nothing by terrible to Gangle even after falling for her.

So we can assume our King and Queen chess piece had a more typical hanahaki story. A bit reluctant at first, but ultimately became a loving couple. That the second Digital Circus hanahaki couple puts on a pedestal to compare themselves to, without even knowing they also suffered from similar (but less intense) problems.

I also like to think Kinger forgot the details of this event himself. He remembers being sick, Queenie nursing him back to health, him being very affectionate, namely in giving her a lot of flowers. But he doesn't specifically remember the case itself. Maybe doesn't even remember these being connected.

He has vague recallings, such as Caine taping up the door, Gangle showing him rare colored flowers then mentioning Jax is sick, but sadly it's not enough to bring the memory back in full. Just thoughts of "huh this seems familiar..."

Likewise, if Caine forgot, you know poor Kinger did, as I imagine Caine's memory is a lot sturdier than Kinger's. My excuse for Caine forgetting is that, if he's an AI, he still has limitations due to the computer he's attached to. Could be fantasy digital with endless memory and infinite terabytes, but for this lets say he only has so much memory to work with.

So finer unneeded details get deleted to ensure he continues to have space for new ones. Recognizes what hanahaki is, but doesn't have the specific name or exact reference for it until he looks it up again. Doesn't remember who was involved in the original case, or how exactly it was resolved. Just that "we had this before; this fixed it! Somehow!" He didn't delete the memory completely because, what if this happened again! Needs to hold onto a piece of it just in case.

So uh anyways there's the implied and hidden Kinger and Queenie lore in my fic.

And you also may be wondering how exactly was Kinger capable of throwing up you may be wondering? ???? ????

????? ?????? ?? ?? ???

[stickthisbig]

I don't enjoy bingewatching fiction, but sometimes I go on a tear and watch like six docuseries in one week. Here are some recommendations and non-recs for things I watched in the last two weeks! I've included trigger warnings under the cut but kept that kind of thing non-explicit.

Highly recommended:

The Billionaire, the Butler, and the Boyfriend (L'Affaire Bettencourt: Scandale chez la femme la plus riche du monde) (Netflix)

The English title of this French-language documentary about Liliane Bettencourt is godawful (he wasn't even her boyfriend???), but it was riveting. I LOVED how they let the story unfold and the totally unexpected places it went. Highly recommended if you're interested in modern French culture.

PSA for English speakers: What I need you to do is turn the audio track to French and the subtitles to English (NOT British English [CC]). The documentary's dubbing is incredibly distracting and poorly translated, and the British English [CC] subtitles are the subtitles for the English, not a translation of the French. They aren't the same, and the English sub track is a much better (though deeply imperfect) translation.

Jimmy Savile: A British Horror Story (Netflix) (TW pedophilia, sexual assault)

By far the weakest thing about this documentary is that it's two episodes and not three. The pacing has some serious issues, and a lot of really interesting stuff from the end of the story gets packed into ten minutes.

BUT. I did think it was excellently made. It lets the story breathe and builds the horror of the fact that he told everyone what he was doing gradually. Really scary stuff.

Fine

Desperately Seeking Soulmate: Escaping Twin Flames Universe (Amazon Prime) (TW homophobia, transphobia, coercion)

It's very much a "Damn, you see that shit? That was crazy" documentary without a huge amount of deep analysis. I don't really have any substantive complaints about this documentary and I cried a little at the end. It just wasn't the best one I watched this week.

Iffy

Keep Sweet: Pray & Obey (Netflix) (TW pedophilia, sexual assault, forced marriage, incest)

Keep Sweet is a good documentary that's well-made; it chooses its subjects well, and though they're all out of the cult, they have different opinions about what happened and different roles in what went down.

However, if you're the kind of person who'd watch this four hour documentary series, you probably already know a little about FLDS. If you already know about FLDS, you will know that Rachel Jeffs is one of the faces of anti-FLDS. She's not in this documentary, and I don't understand why. Not to get too in the weeds of what Warren Jeffs actually did, but Rachel made a series of accusations in her book about FLDS that go far beyond what he was tried for, and which to my knowledge haven't been challenged by other survivors. The story falls flat without those accusations, because you miss a crucial component in his characterization (which again I will not discuss here, because it's fuckin gross). The story never addresses her, her book, or those allegations. It feels like internecine BS. If you haven't read Breaking Free, you'll probably like this documentary more than someone who has.

Evil Genius: The True Story of America's Most Diabolical Bank Heist (Netflix) (TW murder, non-graphic mentions of sexual violence, mental illness)

So this is a well paced and obviously very well researched documentary, though there are a couple of connections I wish they'd made. This documentarian also feels uniquely equipped to tell this story due to the length of his association with the subject (and tbh, that would have been the better film).

However. The fact that the subject has bipolar disorder is central to the film. While I would say that the filmmaker ultimately doesn't make directly ableist statements about the subject, the whole nature of the film's treatment of mental illness is underpinned by an ableist worldview. The filmmaker expresses repeated surprise that the subject was so intelligent and so good in school but also has bipolar disorder, and like... my man the research into a potential correlation is inconclusive but bipolar disorder has been anecdotally been linked to high intelligence since before bipolar was a thing. People thinking mentally ill people are much more clever than they actually are just because they're erratic is fully its own trope.

This is finally addressed head on in the last episode where a judge basically says "cool mental illness, still murder" during a sentencing, but the filmmaker fails to engage with that in any meaningful way. It fully feels like if you told this man he should have had a real bipolar person do a sensitivity read of his script, he would be STUNNED that that was a possibility. There's an attempt to connect the unknowable crime with the unknowable psyche and like. I'm pretty sure you could have got a lot closer to knowing if you'd just asked somebody. (Like me, maybe. My rates are reasonable.)

Anyway I did finish it despite all that, because it was pretty good. I feel like this film also got screwed by Netflix's marketing team wrt its title and branding? Because like... that's not what it's about and it prejudices the viewer pretty badly? If you put someone in the thumbnail then set up multiple parties in a "which one lied", not so great.

Skip it

Escaping Twin Flames Universe (Netflix)

Yes, this is a different documentary than Amazon Prime. They use different informants, and I think they must have been made by different creative teams. I got maybe ten minutes into the Netflix one, which is an incredibly overproduced, schlocky mess. Just tell me about the cult.

[livelaughlego]

Lance has unexpectedly passed. We suspect he may have eaten a toxic plant when he escaped a couple times recently, as he had been vomiting nonstop and was very lethargic and hiding.

My mom also keeps her lily outside. If you know, you know.

All of the vets were closed, even the ER (only 12hr) so I decided to take him the next day. He did not make it to the next day. Around three am I heard him yowl loudly and I knew that was the end. I stayed by his side and so did Leo and Bella while he passed in my arms.

When I saw his hiding behavior and how he slowly moved from room to room, constantly accompanied by his brother, not responding to catnip and barely to pets, I think I knew. But I wanted to believe. To hope. He was still young, after all. But by the time a cat shows symptoms, it is often too late.

This has devastated me and I genuinely don't know if I can keep going without him. He was like a child to me. When I held him, my wails of grief rivaled any sound he could make. I have never made a sound like when I saw him lying there before, nor did I think I was even capable of it. I've never even heard such a sound, except for videos of people in warzones holding their lost children. I have lost several relatives, pets, and friends, but I have never felt such a feeling. It's like I'm a ghost, drifting from room to room. I'm watching from the outside and often find myself staring at one spot for no reason whenever I'm reminded of him. I sleep with his collar nearby, and feel the phantom pressure of a cat on me. My limbs are always numb and my chest aches. My body isn't my own. I can't go into public yet, because I'll only burst into tears the moment his face crosses my mind.

He was buried yesterday morning. This blog will stay up in memory of him. I may post old pictures occasionally.

(most TWs mentioned in tags are right below cut. seriously, do not click if you don't want to read about my mental illness and grief.)

This is his last picture alive and well, taken a few weeks ago. (He loved feet and shoes)

And this is his last photo ever, before we buried him.

It's like he's sleeping. That's what I've told myself since he passed. He's just sleeping.

He was so soft. He was so warm. He was my baby, my son.

He was at the top of my list of reasons to live. I had picked three reasons. Now there are only two, both of which are substantially weaker.

I have people to care for Leo and Bella, and my affairs are pretty much in order. I will not kill myself (don't get your panties in a twist 🙄), but if I die from grief then I will die at peace, my final declaration of love. The ultimate proof that I loved him so much, that I physically could not exist without his love. I pray for death to take me as I sleep, for God to take me how he did Enoch. For this pain and void in my heart to be gone forever. For me to join him in eternal slumber.

We'll just be sleeping. But we won't be alone. We'll have each other.

We're just sleeping.

I love you.

[thisisbecausepolyvoreclosed]

Concept design for Jayden Shiba as he appears in discussions me and my friend, @dani-luminae , have about the AU we have going on Dani's fic, Love From The Stars.

Hailing from a family of pirates, Jayden Shiba like a-lot of pirates when Auradon was formed, was banished to the Isle of The Lost alongside his wife, Alexandria, something both hated and longed to be freed from and go back to travelling the world again. This hate and longing would lead to the pair meeting the imprisoned god, Hades, who recruited pirates like Jayden and Alexandria to help with a scheme to escape the Isle. It didn't work, of course. Plans like that never work on the Isle. But during all this, Alexandria would ultimately end up spending a night with Hades, something Jayden wasn't against, given the couples open relationship nature and therefore, list of lovers on both sides. But while both were aware due to lack of any good protection supplies on the Isle, both are caught off guard still by Alexandria finding herself pregnant from her night with Hades, with Alexandria caught off guard the most. And despite Jayden, after the initial shock, being fine keeping the baby, Alexandria ultimately feared the baby and its potential too much. And as a result of this, only a few hours after the baby was born, Alexandria would come to the decision to abandon the baby on Hades' doorstep, and while Jayden and her were iffy with each other for a bit after that, both still remained together as both still loved each other at the end of it all, but both after the baby were more careful with their lovers if they continued to have those.

But eventually during their time on the Isle, tragedy would strike when Alexandria became deathly ill and despite Jayden's best efforts to keep her alive, she would ultimately pass away, leaving Jayden bitter towards Auradon even when freed finally alongside everyone else on the Isle, unable to forget Alexandria's death and how it could have been prevented if they had the right medication on the Isle. Choosing to not join a crew, Jayden would travel the world like normal, but in a more slow way, unable to find the adventure in it anymore without Alexandria. One day though, Jayden finds himself being tracked down by that very same baby that had been abandoned with Hades, now a teenager going by the name of Reese, who in her search for answers on her mom, found Jayden...

[fotiathymos]

Quick hcs

Gender ones:

Galo is non binary masc

Lio just ids as a man

Meis is fluid non binary fem

Gueira is intersex and mostly calls himself butch

actual history hc and stuff:

Galo's parents are Yoko and Kamina and unlike what happens in Gurren Lagann they do get married and have a kid. Also Kamina is part italian now cause pizzZA

Lio's parents are Nia and Simon and similar to what happens in Gurren Lagann Nia dies first, in front of Lio unfortunately. And the Lio is taken to the Foundation. Simon wasn't home during this and Lio is told that his father was killed too. But in truth Simon is alive and wanders the world looking for his child in all the chaos but eventually dies from an illness a year before the earth is saved. Lio finds this out via Leeron who took Simon in during his final moments. (i have a lot to write about Lio's past and its mostly SAD)

And Leeron, of course, knew Yoko and Kamina so Leeron is now Lio and Galo's gay uncle lmao

If you've never seen Gurren Lagann dont worry about it.

Gueira grew up with lots of medical issues and became burnish in a fit of rage when he was told he couldnt follow his dreams of playing football due to ableist reasons. His explosion unfortunately took down his familys house so he rans away and was ultimately captured by Freeze Force and taken to the Foundation. After a couple years in the foundation being horribly experimented on Gueira's flames grew stronger and he managed to escape.

His goal was to find hope and meaning to becoming burnish and love somewhere and he thought if he just kept traveling in one direction he might find it. He went from Florida and moved west.

Once in Texas somewhere and storm happened and he went to find shelter in a barn. Meis comes across him and it was their family's barn. Gueira had been through it already in his travels of joining one burnish group only to have to disperse and lose some due to Freeze Force's attacks. Meis lets him stay secretly in the barn for a week. After Gueira witnesses some abuse from Meis father towards Meis he tries to convince Meis to leave with him. Theyre reluctant at first Meis isn't burnish just yet. One night Meis father catches Gueira and calls Freeze Force on him. Gueira is shot with frozen cuffs and is about to be loaded into the truck when Meis grabs him and they both ride off on horseback (cliché style) Meis doesnt turn burnish yet till theyre both off on their own after fleeing. Meis starts sobbing about abandoning their Mother and sister to the abuse of their father. As theyre crying their tears turn to flames. A year later is when both Gueria and Meis are now leaders of a Mad Burnish group.

If you listen to Ethel Cain's Thoroughfare and imagine Gueira and Meis with me pplease..

" And he said, "It's been a long damn time since I left Florida No one left to leave and no one left to love But now that I met you, I finally know just where I'm headin' "

After the movie events they both try to find their family's whereabouts. Meis learns his family wants nothing to do with them. Gueira does find his twin sister, and she ends up marrying the pizza boy from the movie hehe.

Meis and Gueria both got married several different ways and times over the years of meeting but everytime it was Gueira asking and Meis being various versions of 'lolok' to 'yes of course!' One year after the movies events, during new years Meis plans to propose to Gueira. Lio helps plan it and they go to the desert onto a cliff side to witness the citys fireworks from afar. Meis writes a song for Gueira, sings it to him as Lio films (knowing whats about to happen) and Meis proposes in the song. Gueira tackle hugs Meis almost off the side of the cliff and just cries for 5 minutes and forgets to actually say yes til Lio screams at him to answer. All three then light their own fireworks (no one tells Galo) and reminisce bout being burnish, cry, laugh and drink about it. Lio promises to officiate Meis and Gueira's wedding.

Lio drunk calls Galo, who is at work and very busy because during new years everyone is setting irresponsible fires, tells him the news and drunkenly flirts with Galo (they arent together yet) Galo reluctantly hangs up on Lio but not before getting their location. And hours later when the fireworks and fires in the city have calmed for a moment, Galo goes to where Lio called and finds them three passed out in a tent together from drinking so much. Galo drives them all home.

I wrote too much again.

GNIGHT its 230 am

[bakugosbratx]

Warning: NSFW 18+ Content. Sexual intercourse, angst, pregnancy, cursing, fluff, degrading, etc.

Words: 1.6k

Check out my other works here

A/N: I just realized there isn’t much talking at all. I’ll make up for it in part four. This shit is sad. I am sad so it’s fitting. I’m sorry in advance. I hope you enjoyed.

Part Two | Finale

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @lanarist @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @lil-miminini @tremendouswolfsaladranch @ssplague @vinny-likes-to-play21

Not every story has a happy ending. Y/N is learning this the hard way.

“CEO of Bakugo Industires, Katsuki Bakugo, shows off his new girlfriend at the Industry Ceremony tonight—“

You turn your phone off. Your red, swollen tear filled eyes could not look at the words and pictures anymore. The press sure did know how to capture the model’s perfect angles. A courtesy they would never give you if you were ever lucky to fill her shoes.

The way Katsuki’s muscular arm snaked around her tiny little waist made you fall ill. The flash of his glamorous smile filled your broken one with rage.

Your ears are filled with the salty liquid that flowed from your orbs. You are not even sure how you are still breathing. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t feel like this. You are just fuck buddies.

Were just fuck buddies.

The words will not stop replaying in your head. It’s been over a month. It’s spinning on a broken record player. All the emotions you felt in that moment intensify with each passing day. You should hate him for abandoning you, but your heart cannot do so. All you wanted was him.

You knew better than to fall for Katsuki. He told you to keep your feelings out of your sexual relations with him yet here you are, sobbing into your bedroom pillow, a growing fetus inside of you.

The room felt restricting of your oxygen supply. The ceiling fan sent chills down your warm spine. Your body aches and your throat feels dry. Katsuki’s cruel words along with his actions strangle you. You have not been able to see straight since.

The next couple of months of work are pure hell. You did your best to avoid Katsuki and he did the same. You noticed that Katsuki did not look at you as you were the only one in the room anymore. He seemed to look past you. If you dared meet those beautiful crimson eyes for even a slight moment, you were left feeling disgusted with yourself. Katsuki has a way of speaking without actually doing so. You adored and hated that about him.

Whenever he addressed you for business matters, you had trouble formulating sentences. Your eyes always seemed to be puffy from the endless nights of hysterical tears. Katsuki’s voice held more aggression than you are used to. Maybe you wanted him to at least have some sympathy, but that was nowhere to be found. He soon stopped inviting you to meetings.

You two did a wonderful job of finding the long way around the office building. Any precaution there was to take, you both did, but no plan is bulletproof and you are going to see each other at some point.

You two have not seen each other in over a month — almost two — and you have been feeling stronger than before. Less weeping nights, you are back to eating a normal diet, and you are more well rested. The bags under your eyes became less noticeable, but they still lingered longer than one would prefer.

You dried off your hands in the restroom — the one furthest from you and Katsuki’s office — and headed out to get back to work. The hallway is quite vacant around this time of day. Everyone is either on lunch or too focused on their work before packing up for the day. Your heels echoed amongst the marble floor. Looking up, your breath hitched.

Your eyes met the ones you desperately wanted to despise. Yours held sadness and desperation while he held anger and disgust. The way Katsuki viewed you, you started to view yourself. Even if it isn’t your fault.

The glance was only a maximum of five seconds, but those five seconds felt like a decade for you two. A period of time you would come to mentally plead for overtime.

You have not seen him for another three weeks after that. The cycle repeated: you sobbed, and sobbed some more, and then you started to cry less.

Then it happened.

You are coming into work late due to a doctor's appointment. The baby is healthy as are you so that is lovely news. Something you would love to share with Katsuki if he even remembered your name.

The elevator was taking its sweet time getting up to the floor where your office is located. You felt strong. How could you not? Your baby is going to be okay from the looks of it. A little human is excited to meet you and you are becoming excited to meet them.

Maybe things are starting to fall into place.

Elevator doors open. You begin to walk forward but come to a halt with the man standing in front of you; Katsuki Bakugo.

Your heart races with your bottom lip begging to quiver. You do your best to hide it though as you brush past one another. A jolt of electricity shot through you. The slightest graze of his calloused fingertips felt so rigid yet so soft. Your instincts force you to look up to see the stranger peer down at you. The stranger you used to know.

“See me, Katsuki. See me as the woman you used to know.” You mentally beg. You just wanted him to see you as somebody. Somebody he used to want.

Katsuki paused there, speaking to you through his eyes. This time, they did not hold as much disgust as before. Maybe it’s the hormones, but you could have sworn you witnessed longing within the roots of his irises. If Katsuki was capable of processing his emotions and allowing them to show, he would write them on his features. He remains stone cold, preventing his fingertips from latching onto yours. So, awkwardly they lay, both of your breaths caught in your windpipes until Katsuki decides to break free of the shackles.

You attempted to be in Katsuki’s space more. You knew him like a book just like he did for you. You both learned each other’s frequent routines.

Awkward encounters became more frequent and you both secretly looked forward to them. Long stares that withheld unspoken phrases. Katsuki’s gazes turned from disgust to softness. Especially with your stomach starting to show as the months rolled on. Still, not a word was spoken

The corporate office began to talk. Chatter amongst Katsuki’s employees disturbed his peace of mind. He knows he has to address you at some point, but what is there to say? What could Katsuki even begin to formulate for you to understand where he is coming from? You are due sooner than he is comfortable with. There is no hiding your stomach.

You never asked a penny from him. Hell, you have not even tried to speak to him since that night. You only spoke when formally addressed. Even that was rare.

Katsuki replays that night a lot while laying in bed. He claims what you two had was just two coworkers having sexual intercourse, but nothing can hide the way he moans your name when he masturbates or has sex with someone else. The way he sees you in every female he comes into contact with. Nothing can hide the way his natural rapid heartbeat stops by the mention of your beautiful name. Don’t even get him started on the way you purposely would get on his nerves. They are all part of the list of delicate little things he missed.

You have every right to hate him. Katsuki would not blame you if you did. His hatred for himself reflected in his actions which ultimately was passed onto you. You carried that burden. He would search for the reflection of his anger in your orbs, but they held none. They held nothing but sadness and love. Love he refuses to accept.

Katsuki laid in bed, alone, allowing his mind to wander. He cursed you for keeping him awake. He is a busy man with things to do yet your features haunt him. The thought of someone else touching you the way he does killed him. He knows he would have heard muttering by now if you went to his rival yet there is silence.

You are silent.

You are falling deep into your peaceful slumber. Something you have been doing more lately. You no longer need the lullabies of your heartache and unwanted whimpers for comfort. You are more at ease.

A heavy knocking at the door startled you. Groaning and gazing at your cell phone, the time read the time.

1:03AM

The knocking picked up again. You are not expecting company at this hour so you take precautions. Grabbing the metal baseball bat you keep under your bed, you stroll to the door. The knocking echoed through your apartment complex much to your sleeping neighbors dismay. Your adrenaline rises with each step you take towards the door. Gazing out the peephole of your front door, you see Katsuki standing at the door.

Throwing the baseball bat to the side, you open the door.

“Katsuki, what the—“

Katsuki ushers himself in, not even giving you an opportunity to scold him or ask anymore questions. Instead, his lips are entangled with yours. Magnets desperately pulling towards each other. You attempt to push him away as you smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, but Katsuki is much stronger than you are.

Your mind is telling you to hate this, but your heart speaks otherwise as Katsuki pushes you against the beige wall, caging you in with his arms. You did not even try to stop him as he began removing any article clothing on your body. Your lips only disconnected for short seconds before meeting again. Now you are laid on the kitchen table, Katsuki’s thick erected cock deep in your pussy, begging moans escaping your parted lips.

Here we go again.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[words-for-holland]

Distractions

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N decide to work in the same room together. The problem...both of them get easily distracted and a whole lotta fluff comes with it.

A/N: Whoa its been awhile but here we are again! Thank you for 1,000+ followers it means the world! Surprises to come 😉

“Hello beautiful.” Tom greets Y/N with a cheeky smile on his face. He quickly pecks her soft cheek as he places his laptop across from his lovely girlfriend, who was currently focused on her work.

She takes a second to look up, returning his smile with a soft one. “Hey, good looking. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. Is it okay if I work here with you? I just want to be close to my girl.”Tom pouts.

Y/N’s heart could burst at the sight and reason he gave. An inaudible “aw” prolonging through her mind...until she quickly realized that there could be some complications with this as a slight frown starts to replace her dimpled smile. “Wait...are you sure?”, she asks. “Dont you have press interviews that require absolute silence? I doubt any of you will want to hear the constant typing in the background.”

“Yeah, your typing is horrendous with those lead heavy fingertips of yours.” Tom teases.

“Well these lead heavy fingertips aren’t leaving anytime soon, so youre probably better off working elsewhere.” She suggests, pointing off to the distance. Tom groans at the idea, using his one hand to put her finger down. He engulfs hers with his, lacing her fingers and holding on tightly.

“Noooo. Dont wanna be anywhere else. Please darling? ” He pouts once more.

She giggles at his plea, rolling her eyes. “Course you can, bubz.” Tom excitedly scoots his chair in as he rubs his hands together to prep for the work to come.

And work they did...for at least 10 minutes. Tom was getting antsy as he read through his next script. Occasionally his eyes would roll to the left, and observe Y/N as she continued to read through an article on her screen. Not that Tom didnt find his own work fun but he always found watching Y/N do her thing just a bit more interesting.

He hadn’t realized himself, but his body start to shift and lean more towards her. His arm extending to wrap her in, as it glided up and down in a steady motion. His thumb doodling hearts on her shoulder. Tom could tell it had an effect on Y/N, discreetly smirking to himself as he heard her audible shakey sigh.

He wanted to see what else could make her sigh like that, so instead of his thumb he used pointer and middle finger, running them up and down her shoulder. Tom could see the smile creeping on Y/N’s face and her little head shake. She knew what he was up to and yet, Y/N still wanted him to think that he was not gonna get her that easily. But God was it hard. Every touch felt like tiny fireworks against her skin, goosebumps forming all over her body with every touch. She to stay strong. No distractions.

Tom eyes perked up, at the action. He must go further, he thinks. Tom starts to trace his nose from her shoulder to her neck, leaving kisses at her jawline. “C’mon darling. Think its time for a break.”, he whispers in her ear.

She turns her head towards him as she smiles, leaving a quick kiss on Tom’s lips. “Its only been ten minutes.” She laughs. “Five if you want to count the distractions.”

He backs up, pretending to look appalled. “How dare you. I’ve been a good lad focusing on my script for the whole ten minutes.”

A playful glare formed on Y/N’s soft face which ultimately ended her up with a fit of giggles. She couldnt take him seriously, but then again she never did with anything. Tom has always said if they were kidnapped by a pair of robbers, her first reaction would be to laugh. As the laughter died down, Y/N paid her attention back to the screen which had been inactive during the playful banter and continued to type out those set of documents that she had been meaning to get to.

Tom on the other hand was still reading through his script, taking mental notes on how he was going to approach his character. This time he was completely engrossed in his work. His eyes moving left to right with every line he took in. Until...he felt something ticking his lower calves. Tom knew it was Y/N’s foot, by the way it brushed just as he had done with his hand on her shoulder. The movements never stopped, her legs now curling around his own. Y/N was trying to getting back at him, but one thing she always forgot was that Tom always wins.

Naturally he had to the same, and what once became a playful game of footsie, now ended up with Tom shifting Y/N to sit on his lap. Her legs now wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto her hips. Both of them connecting their soft lips, feeling every spark and essence of love. He looked up at Y/N with admiration, thinking how lucky he is to have her in his life. Yeah Covid sucked for the most part and limited their ability to even do anything exciting outside, but it gave them the opportunity to be with each other far more than they could have on a normal day. On a normal day, Tom would be jumping around country to country while Y/N would be home miles and miles away from him. Course, nothings changed with jumping from country to country, but Tom gets to bring Y/N with him now and thats all that mattered to them.

But work never stopped them from keeping busy. Just as their kisses were getting more heated, and their hands tangling each others hair both their alarms went off. The couple stopped their antics as they leaned their heads back, groaning in synchronization.

“Ughh. Thats my cue. I have to prep for an interview.” He mumbles as he nuzzles into Y/N’s neck.

“I know. I have to get ready for another business meeting. Whoo.” she speaks in a sarcastic manner, dropping her head.

“What time?” He asked pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Mm...3. Why?”

Tom plays with the strands of her soft hair. “Was wondering if you’ll stay with me through mine and Ill stay with you through yours.”

“As much fun as that would be. I dont think were allowed to —“

“Im not saying we have to be on camera for each others meeting. But if one of us will be off camera itll be all right.” He plans, still looking at his girl with pleading eyes. Y/N’s mouth twitches to the left, her eyes furrowed with suspicion.

“You’re doing it again.” Tom states, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Doing what?”

“You’re making that face again.”

Her expression quickly changes to confusion, not entirely sure of what Tom was noticing that she didnt about her own face. “What face?”, she asks.

“The one where you twitch your lips and make your eyes look angry. You only do it when youre indecisive about something. Its bloody adorable.”

Y/N snorts at his comment, and tries to get off to give him time to prepare, only to be stopped by his hands pushing her back down on his lap.

“I was serious about wanting to stay with my girl the whole day while doing work. Please?” He pleads again, this time bringing out the puppy face. “I’ll be good and do the dishes tonight.”

To be fair, Y/N knew she was always gonna say yes to Tom. Its pretty hard to deny her dorky boyfriend when hes asking so sweetly and just wants to spend the day together. More so, if the roles were switched, she would have done the same thing. “Go get changed movie star, before youre late for your interview.” She murmurs to him, kissing his cheek before she scrambles of his lap to sit across from him.

Tom whoops with victory as he runs out the room quickly changing into his shirt, fixing his hair, and adding glasses for that sophisticated touch. Sure he wanted to look his best for the Cherry Press, but he made sure his outfit was something Y/N would very much adore as well.

“How do I look?” Tom asked coming out of their shared bedroom.

Y/N looks up from her computer, and smiles widely. “Handsome as always.” She couldnt take her eyes off of him, admiring every detail of the clothing and how it perfectly complimented Tom’s feature. She eyed him from top to bottom, until she noticed something. “Uhh..honey....you’re not wearing any pants.” She asked a bit confused. Her eyes engrossed in the muscles of his thighs and the fit of his Calvin Klein boxers.

Tom smirks at her. “Its uncomfortable wearing pants. Besides no one will see...except you.” He teases, gently lifting her head up so that her eyes meets his. “Eyes up here love.”

“Youre something else.” She laughs, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Well...least we know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

Tom laughs loudly at her comment. He hooks the waistband of Y/N’s sweatpants and snaps them back to further prove her point. “That was a good one. Ill give you that.” Tom and Y/N high five each other, and then it was press time.

Y/N kept quiet and tried her best to minimize the typing unless it was really needed. Seeing Tom talk about his work and dedication was something that she had always admired about him. He loved his job and everyone can see that. Occasionally they’d steal glances from each other, smiling and holding each others hand under table so that no one could see. But it was just one of those moments that Tom and Y/N couldnt help themselves too. Two hours passed and Tom was free.

“You did so well.” Y/N praised Tom and awarded him with a quick kiss. “I love it when you talk about your passion.”

“Thanks. I love that you were there with me to sit through it all.” He smiles. “I believe its your turn now. It’s almost 3.”

Y/N frowns, knowing shed have to dread through hers. Instead of getting to talk about her passions, itd all be about business, business, business. “Ugh. Do I have to?”she groans.

“Come on now. Dont be like that, you’re gonna be fine. Ill be here with you the whole time.” Tom reassures her with kisses all over her face.

“No distractions?” She asks.

“No distractions.”

[mwolf0epsilon]

Don't Sell Yourself Short

Summary: In the aftermath of the fall of Kamino, Gregor has an important discussion with Echo on their way to meet with Rex's contact.

[I absolutely love both Gregor and Echo and I really wanted to see some interactions between the two. That said, TBB's execution of Gregor's rescue from Daro left me a bit bitter, so I also wanted to do something more hard-hitting. I feel like Echo specifically needs someone to talk to him about self-worth and respect.]

[THIS STORY IS NOW ON AO3]

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To say Echo was completely and utterly ashamed of himself, would be to understate the absolute cocktail of negative emotions that's been burdening his very soul since the fall of Kamino. Although technically, it had been pilling up since well before that.

No catastrophe of any kind should ever justify the appalling callousness of forgetting about a brother that was under Clone Force 99's (his) protection. Especially not on Rex's request.

Never leaving a man behind had been drilled into his brain since day one of his training. Team coordination had ultimately been the thing that allowed him to become more than a janitorial clone.

And yet...

He had failed spectacularly at that multiple times in the last couple of months. Starting with their initial escape from Kamino during the initial rise of the Empire.

Starting with Crosshair.

Something which wasn't entirely his fault, considering the circumstances they'd all been in. But, then again, he hadn't protested loudly when he'd had the chance to do so. He certainly hadn't badgered Hunter into forming some kind of rescue plan to save their vod'ika.

A guilty conscience had many ways of making him mull over things that left him feeling bitter and emptier than usual. Hypocrisy, he concluded, tasted tangy and sharp like bile.

Like with a great majority of the vode that he had known in his relatively short life, a part of Echo had always held something akin to pure resentment for Kamino.

It might have been his "birth-planet" (if he could even dare to call it that), but it had never truly been home to him or his vode. Not in the way that it mattered at least. Like how most natborns often expressed when asked about what sort of lives they'd lived in their home-worlds, prior to leaving in search of new pastures.

In all honesty Echo had been miserable there. Especially during his formative years, back when he and his batch-twin weren't as close as they'd been when they'd joined the 501st. Back when the very last domino had been one in five.

A tiny statistic.

In the eyes of the true people of Kamino, he and his many brothers had been nothing more than a resource. Another product of a larger scaled investment.

One among millions of his kin that were temporarily housed and trained within the suspended city walls of that dreadfully tempestuous ocean planet.

Not a true son of Kamino. Not a true son of Fett. Not even considered sentient.

Another lot of human-shaped cattle to be used as cannon fodder.

Burdened with higher purpose in the form of serving for a cause that turned out to be false, the more he looked at the implications of inhibitor chips and murderous backstabbing orders.

Unfortunately Kamino was also the source of a bittersweet kind of longing that had cemented itself in his heart since losing Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait and Fives. No matter how much he might hate the damn planet, it was the only place in the galaxy where he had fond memories of all five of them together, right at the very end of their training.

Not really enough to make up for the short lifetime of anguish, but just enough to feel the tremendous amount of loss when gazing upon the smoking wreck that had once housed his entire ill-fated batch. That had housed several hundreds of brothers lost. Some of which never even got to see beyond the stormy Kaminoan seas, and endless days of rain...

He thinks of old 99, kind and courageous even when dealt a poor hand of health, and then thinks of how his much older brother had likely never seen or felt the sunshine on his skin. That breaks his heart into just as many pieces as Tivoca City is currently in.

His frayed and tired mind threatens to sink under the waves, just as the heinous lab he'd been cooked up in sunk never to see the light of day ever again.

Abandoned and forgotten.

None of them are doing alright (that's for sure), but that little factoid certainly didn't excuse forgetting all about Gregor. Clone Force 99 (once again sans their sniper) is reeling from all that's transpired in the last couple of days. They've returned to Ord Mantell to mourn and recuperate, but there's never any rest for the wicked. At least not when it came to them. Hunter, as leader of their crew, has 5 mouths to feed, and the Empire presses harder and harder with each passing day.

Cid has jobs for them. Jobs they can no longer afford to skip out on. Jobs that will ensure whether they have food, fuel and much needed medical supplies.

It's time-consuming, mind-numbing, and takes up all their mental capacity. Rogue clones surviving in Imperial times have it quite hard indeed, especially when their youngest has a bounty on her head that doubles with each passing day.

And just like that they never address the Ortolan in the room ever again. Kamino and it's loss are archived away, like a forgotten footnote on a dusty old tome that no one will ever bother to look at ever again.

And this was driving Echo beyond crazy.

Luckily for him this minor nugget of forgetfulness (or perhaps indifference), rears it's ugly head back into the picture when the Batch returns after yet another mission, only to find Gregor serving tables at Cid's place.

That in itself is enough of a shock to startle all of them.

"What are you doing?" Echo's eyes are locked onto the tray of colorful drinks the commando is carrying around, seeming completely unbothered by such a menial task. There's a surprising gracefulness to his movements that are a stark contrast to the skips and sliding of his boots on durasteel, and the jittery trembles that accompanied those bizarre little giggles of his. A completely new picture of a clone Echo knew very little about, now that he thought about it.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Gregor smiles. It seems like he finds Echo's confusion to be a little funny, and his tone is one of amusement rather than bitter annoyance like he expected. Commandos are not known for their docile nature, and even Tech was often driven to scoffing if he thought a question was insultingly trivial. "I'm working."

".... Why?" Echo frowns.

"Well, got nothing better to do..." The other maneuvers around the Batch to pass a glass of something that smells like Corellian Whiskey to a rather sour-faced Pantoran man seated at one of the booths. The remaining drinks on the tray never threatening to spill over, and the presentation of colorful alcohol remaining unchanged. Gregor's hands are remarkably steady for someone that was hunted down by ruthless soldiers and taken a shot to the chest. "Since, you know... You bunch all kinda ditched me here since rescuing me from Daro..."

"You've been here." Hunter's face is unreadable, but there's a turmoil in his eyes. Especially in the way they sharply move to look directly at Tech who's own face remains passive while his ears flush visibly under scrutiny. "Serving tables."

"Yeeeeh-P." Gregor grins and sticks his tongue between his front teeth after popping the P in his affirmation. It's a rather comical expression that gets a lazy snort out of Wrecker and a small twitch of the lips from Omega. Both of them don't seem to know how to react to this situation.

"Why?" The question is directed at Tech, who's burying his nose in his datapad to avoid confronting an obvious error he's committed. Echo very much wants to ask the same thing, albeit with a little more heat behind it than Hunter.

He'd thought Tech had arranged for a pickup before they'd left to rescue Hunter. Apparently he hadn't.

"Hey, no need for that." Gregor gives a little wave of dismissal with his free hand. He turns on his heel, still keeping that tray steady, before moving to the next table in need of serving. The next drink served just as perfectly intact as the last. "Your boyos were busy bailing your shebs, and I much rather rest up and earn a little cash before I set off to meet Cap'n Rex."

In about five or six great big strides each glass is delivered and the tray cleared out. Bolo and Ketch raise their drinks in a surprising show of unusual high regard, calling out their respective cheers before downing their fill in one go. They hadn't seen or heard Gregor in the time between now and returning from Kamino, but he'd certainly made a name for himself in Cid's bar.

Echo's got to hand it to him, gaining favour with her usual crowd isn't easy. They don't take kindly to men in armour, or any sort of authority figures for the matter. Gregor seemed to have caught on to this and adapted to the situation.

"Where did you get the civvies?" Wrecker asks once the oddity of a commando finishes serving tables. It hadn't even registered that their fellow clone wasn't wearing the body glove and pristine white armour he'd come in. The slacks, utility belt, tank top and leather jacket combo, and sturdy looking boots should have been eye-catching on someone with a face usually covered up by semi-standardized GAR armour.

Echo briefly wonders what happened to his original kit. Hopes that he wasn't forced to strip the paint off of it. For some brothers, their armour was not just a protective shell. It was a form of remembrance.

"Bought 'em." Gregor grinned, making sure to play with the lapels of his jacket and strike a rather flashy pose. "You like it? I've been told I have the sorta physique that can work the sleeveless look... An' this jacket was just screaming 'Gregor come get me! Take me home big boy!' ya know...?"

"You bought clothes?" Hunter raised an eyebrow in disbelief. To Echo it sounds like he was wondering why he hadn't thought of that himself, despite he and Wrecker already having a set of their own while the ARC himself had his droid disguise. Omega only really owned her pair of civvies that she had on her back, and Tech was far too finicky about fibrous textures to settle on anything but his body-glove and armour.

Echo doesn't think Crosshair had had any civvies either. His skin was awfully sensitive.

"Well. Yeah...?" Gregor shrugged. "When you earn your keep, you get to spend credits how you see fit... Besides, the lads here didn't like the look of white shell on me. Got jumped a few times when I went to get these... I feel kinda sorry for having to knock quite a few teeth out of some folks. I don't really like to have to resort to violence when I don't need to..."

"And you just bought clothes? Nothing else?" Hunter asks again.

"Kark no!" This time Gregor laughs a throaty and earnest laugh that ends in those jittery giggles that make him sound like a keening fathier. It takes him a second to get those under control before he clears his throat and crosses his arms. "Bough a blaster and a couple o' bits an' bobs like vibroblades and medical supplies. Some climbing gear too... Oh and a repair kit of course, for when I wanna get busy with repairin' things that need repairin'... Which isn't often but hey, best be prepared. It's a wacky galaxy out there..."

That's a fair call really. You never really knew what life would throw your way, so having a mixed assortment of resources could be a life saver. And this clone was a commando. A fairly odd one at that, but still obviously a commando.

The rest of the batch look puzzled however. Likely asking themselves what exactly it was that Gregor had done for the last few days that would get Cid to pay him enough for both clothing and a fair amount of gear.

Omega on the other hand, seems completely fascinated with how cheery Gregor sounded despite the fact he'd stated without hesitation that they had all essentially abandoned him here on Ord Mantell to rot.

"You were trained as a technician?" She asks. Ever eager to learn, their darling little vod'ika. She often reminded Echo of his cadet days.

"Nah... Back when I was in charge of Foxtrot one of my guys, Trebuchet, was the team techie. Pretty decent slicer and repairman in one compact mass of muscle an' brains... But it doesn't do no one any good ending up stranded and defenceless..." Gregor explained. "I might have not been the picture of bravery back when I didn't have all my marbles in the bag, but learning came easily. You can try to take the commando training out of a clone, but you can't ever really... Unlearn the... Uhh... Hm. I don't know where I was going with this honestly, just... Instinct was there ya know?"

"Foxtrot.... That's... I know that name! That unit was completely wiped out!" Wrecker exclaimed as soon as he realized why that squadron sounded so familiar. "It was the big talk on Kamino for a while during our last month of training... How they got blasted to bits during a transport attack. Nasty stuff... Trainer Vau was not happy to get the news."

Echo winced.

Gregor's smile dropped and his expression became slightly pinched in what Echo assumed was a look of brief pain before he quickly tried to shake it off with an uneasy shrug.

"Ya heard about that uh? Yeah... I don't have all the details myself but..." Gregor chuckled nervously. "It wasn't... It wasn't great. Sucked majorly actually. But my team wasn't completely wiped. Lil' ol' me survived...Sans memories an' all that..."

"There was a report about the discovery of an amnesiac clone on Abafar, by one Colonel Gaskon and his team of droids." Tech offered, lowering his datapad to reveal said report. Because of course he'd stored the data when he found out about that particularly odd tale. "Presumed KIA in an explosion during an escape attempt. I am assuming that was you, as you've mentioned you were blown up once?"

"Right on the money there, boyo." Gregor winked at Tech and nodded eagerly, seeming more at ease now that the disastrous happenings on Sarrish, and the subsequent terrible fate that had befallen his men, weren't the main focus. "Got hit hard on the head when the Seppies attacked the transport. Ended up conking out an' waking up pretty much a blank confused slate."

"That must have been scary." Omega looked up at Gregor with wide eyes. She couldn't imagine what it'd be like to wake up in a strange place without any idea of why or who she was.

Echo could in a way. Only, during the brief moments where he'd been awake and lucid, he had known all too well who he was. And that had made it all the more terrifying. More so than when the days began to blur and his mind began to slip deeper and deeper into the web of data that had sung to him like a siren song.

Some things were worse than death. He wonders if Gregor ever concerned himself with the horrors that flashed behind drooping eyelids. If maybe he was afraid to forget again.

Echo doesn't dare ask.

"Honestly kid? Yeah it was." Gregor admitted without any sort of hesitation. Like Rex, he knelt down to talk to Omega at eye level. It was endearing. "I think... Well, I think if I had remembered who I was, I woulda been mad about it eheheh..."

"Weren't you?" Omega asks, cocking her head ever so slightly to the right while furrowing her brow.

"Not really." Gregor smiles. "The way I was living after I lost my memory was... Well a little aggravating at times sure, but I had a routine, a few friends in and out of town, and it felt good to have a bit of control over my life. Even if I spent a whole lot of it working and wondering why it was nice to have choices... Guess civilian Gregor wasn't too sure why he didn't feel like a civilian at all before then."

"Civilian..." Hunter hummed. "Who would have thought a clone commando could ever be anything but a soldier so easily?"

"I wouldn't say it was easy. If what he's saying is correct, it took a case of amnesia for Gregor to assume that the civilian life was the one he should be living." Tech shook his head in disagreement. "And even then something appeared to seem off."

"Oh it wasn't easy at all! In fact my boss was a bit of a slaver-sympathizer if the way he treated me was of any indication!" Gregor cackled, despite the fact what he'd just said was no laughing matter at all. "I busted my shebs working for his smelly PowerSliders, and then worked security at the nearby mining facility to make ends meet. All the while living in a damp basement full of roaches."

"Why didn't you just leave?" Wrecker asked. He seemed genuinely curious, rather than condescending.

"I woulda, if I had the funds at the time..." Gregor replied. "But I also didn't want to go without figuring out where I'd actually come from. Mister Borkus was, unfortunately, my best bet to find out... Good thing I didn't leave too. He had my kit."

The next few minutes are spent in awkward silence. No one knows what else to say, and Hunter looks anxious. Likely wanting to move on from all this idle chit-chatting and go rectify the glaring mistake that had been committed in his absence. Gregor gives them an opening to move on once his "kindly benefactor" calls him over to get to work sorting the dishes.

Smoothing back his hair, more out of habit than to neaten it, the commando adorned in civvies shakes his head and gives them all what Echo assumes to be his most disarming smile. It reminds him, painfully, of Fives whenever he went off to try his luck picking up natborns at 79's busier nights. That cocky bravado was something he still missed dearly. Even if back then it had driven him half-crazy.

"Boss is calling, no rest for the wicked uh?" Gregor rolled his eyes and saluted them on his way to the back room. "Good talk everyone."

---

It's sheer politeness and understanding of their previous issue pertaining Hunter's capture that keeps the blond captain's tongue from turning sharp. Echo knows his ori'vod to be a patient sort, but also highly defensive when it comes to having his brothers endangered by shortsightedness and (downright) insubordinate dismissals of responsibility.

Rex has grown to understand that Clone Force 99 is young. Inexperienced when it comes to really working with other clones outside of Cody's watchful eye, and a bit too cocky for his liking (which is saying a lot considering just how many of the men in the 501st had been so downright cocky that one could dare call them Rooster company rather than Torrent company).

Naturally the Batch had few reasons to trust Gregor when they'd first gone to rescue him, and it wasn't necessarily their fault that they had focused on saving their leader rather than carrying out the mission Rex had assigned them.

He had perhaps hoped that maybe Echo could set an example and show the boys that not all regs were out to get them. But Echo was just one voice among (five) four and still very much the new player of this isolated game they had been playing for a while.

Omega's arrival and Crosshair's departure had not changed this in the slightest. If anything Echo was actually losing more and more leeway the more time passed.

His vode'ika were too disorganised and startled by sudden change in their lives to listen to him consistently. And, quite honestly, Echo felt less and less compelled to try.

His moods were becoming harder to deal with as he no longer had Crosshair to serve as the natural buffer to his irritability. It was ironic how the snarky and grouchy sniper had been the one to help him keep the sharpness in his veins from spilling out and slowly nicking away at their brothers.

But, despite his own personal frustrations, Echo was nothing if not loyal to his vode. He wouldn't let Hunter and Tech take the fall for this.

"I know you're upset..." Rex had asked to talk to him in private, a request the others had wholly agreed to as they needed to get supplies and someone needed to watch the Marauder. It gave both ARC trooper and his ex-captain time to discuss pressing matters. "I accept responsibility for Gregor still being here."

"I'm not upset. Just..." Rex sighed, shaking his head as if to tell himself there was no use lying. "Ok, fine I'm a little upset. I understand that Hunter's rescue was of the utmost importance, and that what happened on Kamino hit everyone a little hard..."

Echo watched the pale blue digitised image of Rex pace uneasily, hand going from rubbing his tired looking face to smoothing out curls that were starting to grow out of their usually shaved cut. His ori'vod hadn't shaved in a while it seemed, as his jaw was coated in stubble that was soon to become coarse and noticeable even through the fuzziness of the holographic display.

"I just thought the boys would have at least remembered to send Gregor my way before things got as out of hand as they have recently..." Rex turned to look back at Echo. "Known commercial ship routes are being monitored more closely. This include spice routes, tourism routes and even the few meteorite fields and shipwreck zones the Republic used to turn a blind eye on..."

"It's been getting hard to get by on mercenary work. Hunter's... Nervous." Echo remarked, knowing fully well what the blond's concern was. It was one shared by the bandanna-wearing sergeant. "It wasn't just them forgetting. I forgot as well Rex... I should have been more attentive. Known Tech wouldn't have had the time to figure something out. I was second in command, I should have looked into it myself."

"Well, here's your chance." Rex shook his head. "My sources say that there's been some talk about pulling a few Imperial ships away from some of the more monitored lanes. That there's been some kind of incident the Empire's been looking into, which gives me a chance to secure some transport for Gregor."

"An incident?" Echo raised an eyebrow at that.

"I'm not sure what it is, some kind of internal affairs situation I think, but it works for us right now that they're focusing on that rather than keeping an eye on straying ships." Rex shrugged. "Give me two hours, and I'll give you a time and coordinates. You won't be able to meet my contact at port, you'll have to reach the extraction zone on foot."

"Just the two of us?" Echo guesses.

"Yes. The less noticeable you are, the better... And if the others are as affected by everything that's gone on as you've told me, then I think it'd be best to give them a break."

"I..." Echo nodded slowly, looking away from the console. "I understand."

"Echo."

The tired ARC trooper looked back up at his ori'vod's understanding eyes. The sad smile on Rex's equally tired face spoke volumes.

"Take it easy. I'm not mad at any of you... I'm just..."

"Exhausted thanks to all of this mess?"

"Yeah..."

That Echo knew the feeling of all too well. Only, unlike with Rex, he didn't feel like he had the kind of liberty to speak about what was bothering him. Not with the Batch at least... Especially not as it was now.

He loved his little brothers. Echo really did. But they didn't really understand his situation all that well. Didn't give any indication that they wanted to understand beyond a surface level, actually.

And he was reaching his limit.

Maybe a few hours away from them might do him good. Fives did use to say taking a stroll to cool his head was nice instead of always resorting to going to 79's whenever they had some shore-leave to enjoy.

Echo assumes that might have to do with the tattoo his twin came back with once, than any actual wisdom on his part. Fives only ever learned the simpler things after falling face first in the mud.

Just as requested of him, Echo gives Rex his two hours to sort things out. When the chrono chimes, so does his comm. Thirty minutes later the ARC is waiting outside Cid's for Gregor to quickly pack up. Life certainly had a way of moving quickly these days...

"All done!" Gregor walks outside, two large bags slung over his shoulder. He's wearing different slacks and a grey tank top with a PowerSliders logo on it (which is kind of ironic all things considered).

"Took you long enough..." Echo sighed, staring at the two glaringly obvious bags. He supposed they could just look like an odd pair heading off to camp. Hopefully no one would shrug at the idea of some guy taking his "protocol droid" camping. The notion makes his face heat up a little more under the helmet of his disguise.

"Had to find a way to take that lame shell without making it obvious, now didn't I? Was lucky these two bags are big enough to carry all of my gear." Gregor retorted with a smile. "But if you're pressed for time, I can get us a hovertaxi if you'd like?"

"Pass." Echo shoots his head. "Lets get going before your ride bails on us... I am not explaining to Rex how you missed rendezvous not once but twice on my watch."

"Oof, that'd just be awkward wouldn't it?" Gregor snorted and simply began to follow Echo without a fuss.

Most of the initial leg of their journey out of the city and towards the arid desert outskirts is spent in silence. At some point Gregor starts humming a tune and then whistling a jaunty jingle he'd likely heard in some radio broadcast, but he never really initiates a conversation.

Echo doesn't either. He just keeps his eyes on the coordinates Rex sent him, and keeps his one hand near his holster when he sees distant movement. It was never a good idea to get distracted out here. Not when it was so easy to disappear people out in the desert.

When he's not keeping his eyes glued to his comm or glaring daggers at someone watching them in the distance (as if daring them to try starting something), his helmeted face does turn to keep a silent vigil over the distracted commando who's nodding to some musical beat only he can hear. The relaxed smile on his face is very puzzling.

Echo didn't have a lot of experience with the typical commandos that had done the dirty work that the GAR didn't bother signing the common CTs. Clone Force 99 were commandos, of course, but they were very much doing their own thing. Not at all like the other commandos. You could say that maybe the ARC had imagined something different when Rex told him he was sending them off to rescue a highly trained clone commando.

In his mind's eye he'd envisioned a sour-faced tower of a clone, nothing short of Alpha-17ish levels of imposing. What they'd gotten was Gregor.

It still made his head spin trying to figure out if his perception of this class of elite soldiers was a little warped from word-of-mouth, or if maybe he was just not seeing something that Rex had. Gregor's lack of prejudice against the batch on first meeting, and his good disposition towards them despite having been forgotten about, certainly made him a better man than Echo felt.

"Not to be nosy or anything..." The cyborg startled as he realised the other clone had turned to look at him, catching him mid-stare. "Your crew... Are they... Doing ok?"

"I... I beg your pardon?" Echo shook his head, trying to clear his reeling mind. He was embarrassed for being caught staring so blatantly.

"Are your guys doing ok? And the kid too." Gregor repeated himself. "You lot didn't seem all there when we met again at the bar. I figured maybe you were going through some stuff."

"I.... Yeah... We're." Echo cleared his throat and straightened his back. "We'll manage."

"Hm... Noted." Gregor nodded to himself, seemed to understand, before his face turned a little more serious and he stared straight at Echo. "What about you?"

"What?"

"I can practically hear the gears turning when you think, if you'd pardon the rather unfortunate turn of phrase." The commando's eyes darted to the scoop-link arm and then back, his expression softening considerably in what Echo recognised to be something he hadn't seen in a while.

Honest to god compassion.

Not curiosity. Not horror. Not disgust. Actual compassion...

It was startling.

"Are you doing ok?" Gregor repeated, this time more emphatically.

"I... I'm ok." Echo gulped. It could just be the sun getting to him in this stuffy droid disguise, but he swore he felt warmed. He was starting to sweat even.

"Yeah that's a load of banthashit." Gregor rolled his eyes. "Vod, I can read your body language ya know? You're carrying yourself like a dead man marches towards the grave... Good old Codes used to do the same after a battle ended poorly..."

"Codes...?" Echo frowned. "You mean... You mean Commander Cody...?"

"You catch on fast." Gregor smiled. "Yep. Rexy probably didn't tell you, but I'm 212th... The big guy figured out pretty fast who I was when I mentioned my crew, so I guess the vode'ika on Kamino didn't forget us immediately. If Vau trained them he probably made their life hell afterwards even... Never did take losses too well. Figure it meant his training techniques weren't up to scratch... Musta' been real insulting in his opinion."

There was a chance he'd met Gregor before. He just hadn't recognised him. Echo, who was a clone that had been rendered near unrecognisable hadn't recognised a vod.

That somehow felt worse than thinking that maybe something was just off about Gregor. Or maybe it just made both thoughts equally as bad.

What was wrong with him?

"How come... How come I never heard of you?" Echo frowns. "Rex would have said something..."

"Probably did. Only, I only took the name Gregor after Abafar." Gregor shrugged. "It took me a while afterwards to realise that ol' Captain '39 picked a name a little before leaving for that kriff-up that was Sarrish... One that fit HIM and not ME. Because, if there's anything I've learned the past few months, is that '39 an' I are very different men. Made of the same stuffs but different..."

Echo glanced to and fro to make sure there was no one around before lifting the visor of his helmet. He was definitely sweating, but it felt wrong to keep his face concealed when Gregor was speaking to him so openly.

"I'm asking you again." The commando's face hardened once more. "Are you ok? And be honest... Because I think you could use some open honesty right now..."

"..." He considered it. He really did consider it. But Echo chose what he always would. Loyalty above honesty. His brothers above himself. "I'm ok."

"....I thought so." Gregor sighed and shook his head. "Your choice boyo... Just know you're gonna have to confront it one o' these days..."

"Did you?" Echo shot back. Brows furrowed in mild irritation and face burning from both the heat and shame.

"Me? Had to." Gregor's smile was bittersweet. Something sharp, angry and bitter hid behind it, but the commando was stronger than Echo. He didn't need someone to help leash those terrible emotions. Not in the way the ARC had relied on Crosshair to do for him. Trauma certainly was a cruel resentful mistress "Had to because ol' Captain Ballista marched on to meet with his brothers and left me behind to deal with his shit and my own problems to boot. Dead lives, new lives, a whole lot of psychological damage that can barely be managed with anti-depressants I can't afford, and a massive dose of imposter-syndrome..."

The two lapse into silence once more. Gregor walks ahead of Echo, not really knowing where he's going but following the general direction the ARC had been headed in.

There's an urge to scream in frustration. To kick up the sand and curse out the intrusive shabuir. A burning ache in his arm and legs where phantom pain will always bite away and wear him down. But Echo chose to lie and now he'll have to deal with it like the grown-ass man he is.

He follows Gregor, overtakes him, and carries on guiding him towards the transport that awaited him.

They're greeted by a U-wing. The face waiting for them is a familiar one, but the bone-tired empty look in chocolate brown eyes and the short dreadlocks are completely new. Echo doesn't have the courage to greet Mae. She opts not to speak to him either.

Before the ship leaves, Gregor gives him a sad smile, a heavy pat on the back and a sloppy salute.

Later, on his way back, Echo discovers the commando left a slip of flimsy between his pack and his back armour. It's a comm number and a promise to offer an ear whenever he felt comfortable actually talking about what's eating away at him.

The words 'Don't sell yourself short' are carefully written on the back.

Echo throws away the flimsy once he's added the number to his comms permissions. There's no guarantee he'll ever use it. But maybe there's hope he might.

[eddysocs]

Homey Hanukkah (Alfie Solomons x OC)

Summary: Alfie is recovering from a fight and recent bout of illness and Angelica is just trying to make him feel comfortable, and make sure Hanukkah isn’t forgotten despite it all.

Word Count: 1,259

Warnings: Possible minor inaccurate representation of Hanukkah, but it’s not supposed to be super traditional, so 🤷🏼‍♀️

Plans had fallen to the wayside after Alfie's latest skirmish with the Blinders, and such halts to his annual Hanukkah get together had only served to agitate his recovery. His wounds, alongside the chill in the air that winter, had teamed up to make Alfie absolutely miserable. Angelica had assured him that everything was in hand for the company party, but she’d lied. Not intentionally, at first, but with her efforts focused on Alfie's recovery, time had gotten away from her in the end.

Alfie didn’t yet know that the company party was cancelled, that she’d failed to dispense the formal invitations Alfie usually insisted upon and that the most important holiday of the year to him would be little more than a flash in the pan this season. Her reassurances had served their purpose, and allowed Alfie to take it easy and focus on regaining his strength and allowing his wounds to heal. As much as she wished for him to be back on his feet, she had to admit she was somewhat thankful that he was still bedridden so that she was able to escape his inevitable disappointment.

She had to think of some way to recover from her lapse in preparation. They could still manage a lower scale party, but if Alfie wasn’t well enough to attend it in his usual high sprits, it may set him back. Perhaps she should just break the news to him softly, and promise to double their usual efforts next year. Now or never, Angelica told herself.

"Alfie," she broached softly, tentatively, in case he was resting.

"Angel," Alfie greeted warmly, though not quite with his usual luster. He sounded more himself than he had in the past couple of weeks, however, which was a nice change of pace.

"Would you be terribly disappointed if we weren’t having your Hanukkah party this year?"

Alfie contemplated a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh that Angelica couldn’t quite determine the meaning of. "Relieved, actually, I think," he finally settled on. "Knew you weren’t planning when I asked. Too damn worried about little old me." The fact that he’d thought to tease her was a great sign of his improvement.

"Are you sure you’re not angry?"

"Far from it. I need the rest, and frankly, so do you, my girl."

Angelica smiled. "I won’t let the holiday pass us by," she insisted, "just perhaps something smaller is in order this year, don’t you think?"

Alfie nodded, both in confirmation and dismissal. Angelica took her leave of him, let him get some more shut eye so that he’d continue his path to wellness. Meanwhile, she spent less time at his side and more in the kitchen. She wasn’t an incapable cook, but she was no gourmet either, and she wanted their Hanukkah dinner to be one to remember, preferably in a positive light if she were able to manage it.

A few failures and near successes later over the following days, and Angelica felt she had a decent handle on the dish she put it upon herself to master. She looked to the time and realize she’d been slaving away at her task for hours, not even realizing night had fallen. In fact, it was nearly morning, only a couple hours off of daybreak. She really should sleep. And clean. Angelica surveyed the state of Alfie's kitchen, an utter disaster if there ever was. It almost looked worse than Alfie had when he returned from that nasty fight with Thomas Shelby.

A yawn signaled her ultimate decision. The kitchen could wait. She was going to end up bedridden herself if she caught cold, so it was advised that she get her rest if she planned on not entirely ruining Hanukkah for Alfie this year. With a regretful sigh, she went off to bed.

When she woke it was nearly midday. She’d have to resume a normal schedule eventually, but this was too important to her to worry about sacrificing a few hours here and there. With the beginning of the holiday just around the corner, Angelica doubled her efforts. Her cooking improved, but her baking was still quite lacking. Then she realized, there was no reason for her to bake herself. Alfie had his own bakery, and she was almost certain his workers would be willing to help her out, especially when they caught the state of her.

Her glance in the mirror before heading out was enough to confirm her suspicions. She looked as frazzled as she felt. Yet she smoothed down her hair, grabbed a relatively clean cloth from the kitchen to wipe off her makeup that had ran in the heat of the oven the night before and escaped her notice. Once she deemed herself suitable enough for the public, she went to put in her request.

Alfie's staff were quite agreeable to her plight, even without her having to mention Alfie's recent state of health and spirit. They promised her a fresh loaf of Challah bread and a handful of knishes for their cozy observance of the holiday. That just left her the brisket. Manageable. Angelica let out a sigh of relief on her way back to Alfie's.

The daunting task of the uncleaned kitchen faced her upon returning. She made quick work of it, leaving out only what she’d need for the brisket. It may not have been the tidiest, even after she’d put everything away, but it looked much improved. Then she began to cook. It was time consuming, but relatively simple after some days of practice. Most of it was simply a waiting game, but she felt confident it would be ready in time for the following day.

When the time finally neared, she quickly ran out to grab her goodies from the bakery, and they looked amazing. She just hoped her brisket would hold up when compared. With luck, she hadn’t burned down the house when she left. It was only fifteen minutes she’d left it unattended to, so she figured not much could go wrong. And it hadn’t.

The meal came together well, and after plating it up for both her and Alfie, she went to his bedside, surprised to find him out of bed and up reading in his chair. "Feeling better then," she asked, happy to see him upright. "Hope you’ve got an appetite. I cooked."

"I smelled it," Alfie informed, and she would be a fool of she thought he hadn’t. "I’ve been smelling it for the past week," he joked, and she realized he must have been sick of it by now. "Mouth's still watering though," he added and she broke out into a smile.

"I hope I did it justice. The rest came from your bakery. They were nice enough to assist." Alfie nodded what she assumed was a sign of appreciation, though sometimes his nods were hard to read into. Either way, he accepted the plate eagerly.

"Angel," Alfie began, mid bite, "you ought to stay here. Permanently. Lord knows I could use someone around here to keep things in line. What do think?"

"I’d love nothing more, Alfie," Angelica replied tenderly, reaching out and brushing her hand down Alfie's untrimmed beard. She made a mental note to do something about that now that he was up and moving. Despite nothing being formal nor all that traditional, the two of them seemed to find a way to enjoy the time together in relative good health and cheer, and really, that’s all either of them could have asked for.

Angelica Morley: @borg-queer, @chickensarentcheap, @tropetember

[hualianff]

Ice Skating AU

The road to the Olympics was quite lonely for figure skater XL. XL’s parents supported his dreams at the expense of his health and mental wellbeing. XL’s coach, JW, purposefully isolated XL from other competitors, which further distanced XL from the peers who were envious of his talent and achievements.

After the Olympics–XL winning silver, much to the public’s pride–he suffered from detrimental injuries as a result of being overworked and malnourished; JW had put him on a strict diet and training schedule that was ultimately unsustainable. It took over a year for XL to successfully settle a lawsuit with minimal media coverage and monetary consequences. 

Three years have passed since he retired. XL currently owns his own rink, teaching kids and adult skating classes on the side.

When XL competed, everything was so stiff and uptight. It got to the point where he wasn’t enjoying it and came to resent the sport in the end. When XL teaches, however, he gets to laugh with his students. He happily lends them a hand when they need it (unlike JW, who was harsh and trained him as if he were a machine). He celebrates with a student every time they land an improving pirouette, relishes in the pure joy in their eyes. 

That’s how ice skating should be. Challenging but always fun. 

Now, XL truly loves the managing and teaching aspect of the new role ice skating plays in his life. Owning a rink also allows XL to occasionally indulge in his old skills and routines. With no pressure to perform for anybody but himself, XL is free.

HC, a film grad school student, is forced to take a skating class after losing a bet with HX. HX’s partner, who had come up with the consequence on HX’s behalf, suggested a place called Wings, claiming they are “just trying to promote a fellow friend’s business.”

HC almost didn’t follow through with the penalty. He already knew how to skate. (His natural ability to quickly pick up any athletic activity is envied by all his friends.) Upon seeing just who the teacher was, however, HC reconsidered.

After all, losing a bet is no joke.

HC attends the evening class. He wears tight-fitting jeans and a maroon, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. The film student asks for extra help on his form despite knowing there’s not much to fix. 

Understandably, XL is a bit baffled how this one tall, handsome stranger keeps asking to be guided into the correct position and spotted while skating across the rink when it seems he’s capable of balancing on his own. But XL is in no way complaining! And if XL happens to stare directly at HC’s small yet perky ass as he skates behind the taller man in case HC crashes, no one has to know. 

One week passes. Then another. And another. 

One month later, HC keeps coming back for classes.

“San Lang, you don’t have to pay for any more classes. You already skate well enough on your own!” XL informed his newest regular with a knowing smile. 

“But then I won’t get to see Gege as often,” HC insisted with that charismatic smirk of his. XL hoped his face didn’t give away how flustered he was on the inside.

“W-well, the rink is not very busy one hour till closing time. You could always come in to practice. And I can watch you from the side!” XL said, looking off to the side. “Free of charge,” he added.

HC tilted his head, pondering. “Hmm, that sounds lovely. You’ll skate with me too?”

“Haha, sure! If there’s no one else on the rink,” XL laughs. 

HC nodded. “Fair enough. However, I will be paying the amount I owe Gege. You cannot convince me otherwise.”

“San Lang-“ 

“No exceptions, Gege!”

They’re so close, XL realized. HC leaned forward on the counter which is the only barrier separating them from touching chests. XL allowed himself a couple glances at the muscled pec straining against the fabric of HC’s shirt.

“Well, San Lang can pay me back in a different way, m-maybe?” the former Olympian suggested. HC quirked an elegant eyebrow. He really was too pretty for XL’s poor heart to handle. 

“Oh? What does Gege have in mind?”

Ignoring how suggestive HC sounded just then, XL built up the courage to utter one word: “Dinner?” 

Much to XL’s surprise, HC visibly malfunctions by choking on his own spit, as if he hadn’t expected XL to be so forward. HC clears his throat right after, sputtering a measly, “O-oh?”  😳

XL doesn’t say anything else. He stands motionless while waiting for the younger man’s answer. 🥺

Luckily, XL doesn’t have to wait more than ten seconds before HC composes himself, standing back and placing his palms on the counter, satisfied.

“Dinner is perfect.”

XL: 🥰

HC: 😇

Things only got better when HC came around. Suddenly, XL wasn’t alone every night he closed. HC diligently visited every night he could when school and work permitted. They skate together as promised, HC commenting how generous XL is for offering special “private lessons.” XL is positive HC makes these innuendos on purpose and selfishly hopes HC doesn’t say them to anyone else but XL. 

Funnily enough, XL has made his own fair share of innuendos–though completely unintentional. 

(XL while skating with HC: “You’re doing so well, San Lang. Go faster!”

HC, raising an eyebrow: “Gege likes things faster?”

XL: 😳😳 “EEEK, I mean the speed you’re going at. I-it’s too slow-“

HC: *nods* “Whatever Gege wishes.” *winks at XL before zooming away*

XL, chasing HC: “Wait, how are you moving so quickly!?”)

(HC falls ill on a Friday when he would normally visit the rink. With no meds and a killer headache, HC texts XL to cancel their lesson. 

XL: “San Lang, do you need medicine? I’ll come for you”

HC: “Gege 😳😳😳”

XL: “TO***** My finger slipped 😅”

HC: “Gege is getting quite bold now, isn’t he?”

XL: “San Lang!”)

***

It all boils down to a game of tag that got a little too competitive. It’s HC’s turn to tag XL. They’re zipping around the rink like flashes of light, the sound of their laughter echoing throughout the open space. Where XL is elegant yet sharp as he evades his pursuer, HC is aggressive and heavy as his skates dig into the ice in his haste catch XL. 

“Gege is too fast for this poor San Lang. It’s too unfair,” HC complains, though he has no reason to as he gains up on XL for the third time.

“Ahhh, no no noooo!” XL shrieks as he’s chased into a corner by a sneaky HC. In his attempt to turn around to escape, XL is crowded against the clear divider between the rink and the lounge space by a smirking HC. One last duck is countered by HC rushing forward to lightly secure his hands around XL’s waist. 

XL’s breath quickens as HC slowly leans down, a certain tenderness behind his eye that makes XL positively melt inside. 

“Caught you,” HC mutters, his long braid falling haphazardly down his right shoulder. XL shyly looks down, pinned by HC’s inquisitive stare. A large hand comes to gently grip his chin, lifting his head to meet HC’s face. “Do I get a reward?”

“What does San Lang desire?”

HC’s eye flickers down to XL’s lips. XL’s eyelids lower in understanding. And relief. Then, under some unknown source of confidence, XL lifts his chin invitingly. 

“It's your reward to claim,” he whispers. HC’s face splits in shock before morphing into an awed expression. He cautiously nudges XL’s nose with his own, making XL instinctually smile. 

“Gege has indeed become bolder,” HC utters.

He promptly seals their lips, which curiously meld together before separating. A tentative peck. XL is the one to slant their mouths together again, pulling HC down by the lapels of his jacket. They experiment as they press together, pull apart, then meet once more in delicious bliss.

XL hums as HC takes control of the pace. The taller man holds XL close, caressing his waist as they languidly make out against the divider. XL whimpers as HC cups his cheek lovingly. There’s a warm brush against the seam of XL’s mouth. He gladly parts his lips, welcoming the sensual slide of HC’s tongue inside. HC doesn’t let up, eagerly licking along every hollow and crevice of XL’s mouth.

When XL playfully nips at HC’s upper lip, HC firmly presses XL against the divide, grunting as he’s provoked. Another cheeky nibble has HC pulling away, raising a challenging eyebrow at XL. Using the diversion to his advantage, XL surges up to wrap his arms around HC’s shoulder, running the flat of his tongue over HC’s lower lip before coaxing him into another sweet kiss. HC smiles approvingly, allowing XL to lead. 

HC gradually shifts their weight so he skates backward, guiding them around the rink as they unhurriedly explore each other’s mouths. The scuffling of their skates paired with the slick sounds of their kissing serves as their own music and rhythm. XL surrenders to HC’s movements by resting most of his weight against the taller man. 

“I knew you knew how to skate this whole time,” XL murmurs against HC’s lips. HC chuckles as he traces XL’s cupid’s bow, then places a chaste kiss to XL’s cheek.

“Always so perceptive, gege.”

“Hmm, it’s hot,” XL says without thinking. HC smiles in amusement as he switches to skating in circles, gaze never leaving XL. 

“What is?”

“You skate with the confidence of a pro,” XL answers. He steals another kiss to HC’s lips, eyes crinkling as he smiles happily.

“Good thing I had the best teacher.”

“Oh, stop it, San Lang-“

“Make me.”

XL puffs his cheeks out in faux annoyance. But he can’t hold back a beaming grin as HC mimics his expression, over-exaggerating the pout that makes him look like a child whose candy was snatched out of his hands.

“If you insist,” XL sighs. He gives no other warning as he pounces, winding his legs around HC’s waist. HC effortlessly catches XL by underneath his thighs, pliant as XL crashes their lips together, hungry for much more. 

(Brainchild with @no-one-says-hi)

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2020 days 12 & 15 - gimme shelter // recovery

title: her dear friend

summary: Set after their mission at Redaku – Sasuke and Sakura are finally going back home after their latest discovery when they’re surprised by a storm. She’s worried about her best friend, and he knows he has to do something before she puts herself at risk.

a/n: So, if you’re tired of seeing Sasuke caring for Sakura, this story is definitely not for you. I had this idea a while ago and of course I used it as an excuse to re-read Sasuke Retsuden (everything can be an excuse for that XD). I had initially planned to post this for the SasuSaku Month, but life happened and... Well, enough of me, I hope you enjoy this one, and if you want, I would love to hear your opinion on it!

(also, this is un-beta’d. Please, go easy on me)

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.

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Redaku continued to prove itself as a strange land even now that they were just a couple of miles away from the border with the Fire Country. Dark clouds had been announcing a storm ever since they left the Tataru Astronomy Research Institute— or at least what was left of it—  and even if there were still a couple of hours left of sun-light, the forest where they were had been enveloped by a shady atmosphere. Birds were coiled up inside their nests and squirrels hid in tree-trunks as an ominous wind swept the leaves beneath their feet. 

All the signs around them indicated that Mother nature was about to unleash her fury, and neither of them wanted to be out in the clear when that happened. Even if they were in a hurry to return home with the new info they had gathered regarding Naruto’s condition, they knew better than to defy the natural forces.

For the storm was due to any moment now, they decided that it would be better to deviate from their original route so they could seek shelter in a safe place. It sure took them a while, especially because they didn’t really know the area, but eventually, Sasuke managed to spot an empty cavern. It was damp, cold and filled with bats; but it would have to do for the time.

It was not like they had any better options.

As soon as they verified the cave to make sure it was safe, his wife was the one who used her fists to gather some dry wood, and by the time he had started the fire with his fire jutsu, the downpour began. It had been years since he had last seen a storm so destructive and powerful like that, and for the moment, he was just glad to have found a place where they could stay.

They had fire to keep them warm, enough food and water for the night, and—well— they also each other so they wouldn’t feel lonely. All they had to do now was wait.

However, for his wife, waiting seemed to be a lot harder than facing the storm.

Once they had settled inside the cave, the male Uchiha couldn’t help but notice how restless the pinkette was. While he was calmly sitting by the fire, she was standing up, pacing around and looking outside. Her arms were crossed across her chest, and he had already lost count of how many times she had already sighed or cursed the heavens for the rain outside.

Sakura was pissed, he could tell. Her shoulders looked tense and she had barely said a word ever since they were forced to stop. He knew she wanted to go home as fast as possible, and being stuck inside a cave had certainly not been part of their plans when setting the fastest route home earlier that day. More than anyone, he knows how much she hates the unforeseen, and at that moment, of all times, anything slightly different from their original plan was enough to give her a huge headache. 

They needed her back in Konoha. Naruto was slowly getting worse, and even if they hadn’t really found the cure in their mission, they had found new and relevant information that could lead to something— anything, really. Ever since the blond had fallen ill, she had been on the edge, reading countless medical books and ancient scrolls, looking for a cure or at least a way to slow down its progression. She might have found a thing or two during the many nights she has spent up, but it was still not enough.

Naruto was still sick at the end of each day, and the only difference now was the she wasn’t by his side. And even if she knew that what they had done in Redaku was also very important, he knew better than to believe she wasn’t bothered by the fact that she was miles away from Konoha.

In fact, the guilt of being away was slowly eating her alive, and if she continued to put herself under so much pressure, it would be just a matter of time before she had a mental breakdown.

He had to do something. Just like in the past, he would have to take care of her so she could take care of the others.

“Sakura.” He started, his voice soft as her name rolled out of his tongue. “It's no use. You know the storm won’t just stop because you’re glaring at it. Come sit by the fire.”

“Don’t even try. You and I know I don’t want to sit.”

“So are you just gonna stand there all night?”

“Maybe I will, so what?” She turned to him, her hands balling into annoyed fists as her voice came out an octave louder. She forcefully closed her eyes for a second, then, sighing exasperatedly before her stiffened expression melted into a worried one. ”I’m sorry, Sasuke-kun. I just…I just want to go home.”

He knew she didn’t mean to sound rude. It was just the stress getting the best of her, and even if he hated to see her like that, Sasuke knew there was nothing he could do to solve her problem at that moment. For he was still feeling a bit drained after what had happened at the Astronomy Institute, he knew he didn’t have enough power to use his Susano’o all the way back to the village, and anything other than that would be useless— irresponsible, even.

There was really no way out of that situation.

Still, it was not like their friend was facing an imminent threat at that moment. Even if he really was getting worse, all of his vital parameters were stable and the progression of the disease didn’t seem to be so fast that his condition would suddenly become life-threatening. A day or two wouldn’t make any difference, both Shizune and Shikamaru granted that in a letter they had sent on the previous day.

Naruto would still be okay by the time they got home. And however logical that sounded, it would never be enough to calm her poor heart.

“I know you do.” He said, his voice offering her some sort of comfort. “But we both know we can’t do anything right now. Not with this storm out there.”

“But…but don’t you think we should take the risk?” She spoke, her green eyes now looking at him with a serious expression. “We have experience in field missions, and if we are careful, we can escape the storm. It will save at least a day of journey.”

His eyes widened at her statement, and it worried him to listen to her talking like that. She was actually serious about that— serious about walking aimlessly in search of a new way back home in the middle of the pouring rain. It was possible to see that her thoughts were now clouded by her sense of guilt, as she was clearly considering putting herself at risk out there just so they could try to arrive a day earlier or two.

 Sakura was acting recklessly. And he had to stop her before she did something stupid. 

“We’re not going anywhere in the middle of the storm. It’s not worth the risk.”

“What? Why not?”

“What do you mean why not? Tch, you know very well how hard it is to move in such terrible conditions. It’s dark, we don’t know the area and the storm is too strong.”

“I-I know it’s dangerous, but this is an emergency, right?”

“It's not an emergency yet. They said his condition is stable and we still have time to get back to Konoha.”

“They don’t know for how long it will be stable, Sasuke-kun. It might get worse.”

“You don’t know that, Sakura. This is just speculation.”

“Of course it is. We don’t know anything about this stupid disease.” She started, her voice now growing irritated. “He might as well be better by the time we arrive, but he also might drop dead before we get the chance to use what we’ve discovered in Redaku.”

“Hn.” He nodded in acceptance, closing his eyes. “I guess we will just have to wait and see, then.”

“Wait and see?” She said, turning to face him. He watched as her green eyes were now glaring at him with vivid fire, and at that moment, he suddenly remembered how intimidating his wife could be. “Are you perhaps suggesting that we should just bet on his life? He is the Hokage.”

As he watched the pinkette growing angry at his words, Sasuke realized that, apart from his efforts, she had finally lost it. She was now using their official positions at the village as an excuse to her behavior, and though she has always respected the shinobi hierarchy, that was probably the first time he ever heard her calling Naruto 'Hokage' when they were just the two of them in the room. His words had been completely misunderstood by her, and at that moment, even if she wasn’t really using words to describe it, he knew exactly what was going through her head.

Sakura was angry. Truly and inexorably angry.

Guilt was taking over every fiber of her heart and even if she knew it wasn’t her fault that Naruto was sick, she was blaming herself for not being there by his side. It was not like she didn’t trust the people back in Konoha to take care of him, but she knew she was the only one really capable for a job that has always been hers. 

Whenever one of them needs her, she’s there. Whenever they’re sick, she finds the cure. That has been the ultimate rule of her life as a medical ninja, and even if they’re all grown ups now, it was still hard for her to let go of that motherly part of hers. 

She has always been overprotective towards them. She has always tried her best to make sure they were both safe, and after marrying the Uchiha— much to her husband’s surprise— she grew even more worried about the blond. Perhaps it was the fear of losing her bonds with him or even the fact that they were each other’s closest fraternal connection, but whenever Naruto ended up at the hospital, she wouldn’t sleep until he was feeling better.

They’re too close. They have always been, especially after all of the time that were just the two of them. They’ve shared memories, promises and dreams; and it would be impossible for her to just ignore all that and not worry about him. It was stronger than her, and fighting against that would be useless.

He couldn’t change that part of hers even if he tried to. All he could do was make sure it didn’t hurt her like it was hurting at that moment.

Sasuke stood up, then, his heart beating as calmly as before. He knew better than to be mad at her for letting her feelings rule her thoughts, especially when his own emotions almost made him destroy Konoha. Just like all the times when she has showed him compassion during his times of pure rage, he owed her the same kind of reciprocity. 

His wife deserved to be heard, and for she has always been more technical than him, he knew she would eventually give in to reasoning if he presented it to her in a way she could understand.

His feet slowly took him closer to her until his body was towering over hers. For she has never been the kind to be intimidated by anyone, Sakura kept glaring at him with the same intensity as before. He was holding a serious expression, and his voice didn’t change when he started his speech. “Stop pretending you care about the Hokage.”

His mismatched eyes watched as her expression changed. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and slowly, she grew even angrier at him. “What did you say?” He could tell she was really mad at him, and if he didn’t choose his words correctly, chances were she would end up beating him to dust.

“I told you to stop pretending you care about the Hokage, Sakura. If you really want to go out there in the storm, at least be a little more honest about your reasons.”

“How dare you say something like that to my face? After everything I did and after leaving my daughter alone so I could help you gather new information, are you really saying I don’t care?”

“Aah.” He confirmed, his voice still as calm as before.

“Screw you, Sasuke.” She said, finally looking away from him. “I'm going. With or without you." At that moment, he realized he had driven her to the edge, and that was the right time to act on their problem.

That was the only way he could ever talk some sense into his wife. And even if he could end up with a broken rib or two, he figured it would be better than letting her get hurt. 

She was fast to take her backpack from the ground, and as she was making her way towards the exit of the cave, Sasuke took a deep breath before giving her a decent answer. “At least admit why you’re leaving.” At his words, she stopped in her tracks, turning one more time to glare at him. Sakura opened her mouth to talk, but before she had the chance, he continued. “At least admit that you’re doing this for your best friend. Admit that him being the Hokage has nothing to do with this.”

Her eyes widened once more, and he watched as she bit her lower lip before balling her hands into fists. “Stop with your silly games. You know it makes absolutely no difference right now.”

“Of course it does.”

“Oh, and do you care to explain how?” She crossed her arms across her chest, her legs now slightly parted as a sign that she was standing her ground.

“You wouldn’t be acting like that if Kakashi was the one sick.”

“Bullshit. You know I would–”

“You wouldn’t.” He said, firmly, and he realized she was taken aback because of his words. At that moment, he used that opportunity to get closer to her. “If the one sick wasn’t that idiot, we both know you would be a lot calmer right now. It has nothing to do with his position as the Hokage. It never had.”

“Tch, and so what, Sasuke-kun?! Am I that wrong for caring?” She started, her eyes now tearing up. At last, his wife was admitting the truth to herself and it was relieving to see the walls she had built around herself crumbling down. If he wanted to help her— and he certainly did— he needed to be able to reach her first. ”What if I really am worried about my best friend? He’s sick, okay!? He’s sick and I have no fucking idea of what’s happening with him! I’m scared that something bad might happen and I won’t even be there by his side. And though I know there are very capable people back home, I don’t know if any of them would go far enough to keep him alive like I would!”

Her arms were now embracing her own body, making her seem smaller than she really is. She was bitting her lower lip, and even if it hurt him to see his wife like that, unfortunately, it was the only way he knew to calm her down. Thanks to that depraved shinobi system they grew up in, it was only natural for her to keep it all to herself. According to that system, her fears, her thoughts and her emotions meant nothing in times of crises, and there was no reason to prioritize them over their mission or their Hokage. She’s a medical ninja, trained to heal and not alarm those around her, even if it meant she would be haunted by her own secrets for the rest of her life.

No wonder why the previous generations of shinobi suffered so much. More than anyone, he knew how destructive emotions can be when they’re kept inside for too long, and he was not going to let her go through that kind of suffering. 

Sakura had to let it all out. That was what Naruto would tell her if he was there. That was what he has always fought to protect.

And now that she did, it was time for her to pull herself together. He has seen her doing it before, and for she is this brave woman, he knew she could do it again. She just needed to be reminded of that.

“Sakura, look at me.”

“Leave me alone, Sasuke-kun.”

“I'm serious.” He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Look at me.”

Though she refused to do as he said at first, her worried eyes eventually gave in to her husband’s words. Her cheeks were puffed in anger, her eyes were turning red due to the unshed tears and he could see that her teeth had already left their mark on her rosy lips. His wife was sad, but it was inevitable for him to think about how beautiful she was, as her true colors oozed from her every pore.

“Let me go to him.” She said, her voice low, almost as if she was begging him.

“I can’t do this. I can’t let you risk yourself out there.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re his only hope, Sakura.”

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise, and her lips went agape. She was certainly not expecting those words, and he knew he had to take advantage of her state of bewilderment to tell her the one thing she needed to hear.

“Just think about it. You are the only one who can actually save Naruto. Shikamaru, Kakashi and I can search for things that are related to his condition, but you are the only one who can actually do something about it. You will put all the pieces together and you will find a cure, I’m sure of it.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if I can’t do anything and he dies before we get the chance to get to him?”

“I'm not wrong.” He said, his voice powerful and with no hint of doubt. “I know you can do it. We all know it, and that includes that idiot. He understands why you had to leave, and right now, he’s also doing his best to make sure you have all the time you need. He’s not going to die, Sakura.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not.” He said, his voice soft and delicate as he spoke to her. “But I trust him. He’s strong and he’s too stubborn to lose before using his best weapon.” His hand moved, then, slowly climbing up to her neck until he was cupping her left cheek. He brushed his thumb against her soft skin, and he offered her a tender smile before continuing. “And right now, his best weapon is you, Sakura.”

At his words, a delicate silence took over them as he simply watched as she made peace with her mind. Knowing his wife like he did, Sasuke knew she was probably thinking about a million ways to refute his arguments, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to be finding any. He felt as she allowed her head to rest against his palm, and she carefully placed her own hands over his as if to indicate she was welcoming the comfort he was offering her. She closed her eyes after that, letting go of all the tension that was taking over her shoulders, and he sighed in relief after that.

“You're right.” She nodded, slowly, as she opened her green eyes to face him. “He's strong and…he’s gonna make it.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“It’s gonna be hard, but I have to trust Naruto on this.” She giggled, finally moving her head away from his hand so she could wipe a tear that had dared to fall. “Shannarou, when did he become such a dependable adult?”

“Hn, he didn’t. Don’t forget that Kurama is the one doing it all for him.”

“Yeah, that’s the only possible explanation.” She blinked, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you for helping me see things through.”

“No need to thank me. You already knew everything I said.“ He reassured her, their eyes still connected. "You were just a bit confused because of your maternal instincts towards that Dobe.”

A chuckled escaped her lips at his words, and slowly, a smile was decorating her face. It was good to see her like that again. "I guess you’re right. “ She said, scratching the back of her head. “I should probably start worrying more about my husband, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” He started, turning away so he could walk back to where they had placed their belongings. The night was getting colder because of the storm, he was tired, and after all of that commotion, he just wanted to sit by the fire with his wife. “Now come. It’s been a long day and we need to rest for tomorrow."

“You’re right.” She agreed, instinctively following his steps. “Help me heat the water, then. I’ll make us some tea to keep us warm.”

“Aah.” 

And so, after the raging thunder in her heart dissipated, the Uchiha couple could finally settle down by the fire. The water she had collected from the rain was now boiling inside an old kettle with some herbs, and while they waited for their tea to be ready, both Sasuke and Sakura sat next to each other, finally sharing a moment of peace. Her back was pressed against his chest, her head lingered near his chin and he could feel the way her muscles were relaxed against him. The sound of the rain outside felt like a serene symphony, invading his ears and allowing his heart to beat slower.

In a couple of hours, he knew they would both be up and back on their way back home, and perhaps, they would have to face some challenges. The near future seemed to have a lot of uncertainties that they would have to deal with, but for the moment, he figured he could let himself rest while enjoying his wife company.

He really had missed her, after all.

With that in mind, Sasuke closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Her sweet scent invaded his nostrils, and slowly, he could feel his thoughts disappearing one by one, until it was just them, the fire and the rain.

the end

[theophagie-remade]

I assume some of the major differences between The Tatami Galaxy's novel and anime can be easily justified with something like "the novel is very short so, to get more episodes out of it, it was necessary to give Watashi only one major experience (ie circle/association/whatever) per timeline, and to even invent a couple of them", to which I answer you know what, fair, less realistic but fair. But then the anime never even mentions the Colosseum part of the fortune teller's prediction(s) nor Watashi's wisdom tooth, which is... a bit of disappointing since it's thanks to them that he manages to escape the - it is appropriate to say - tatami galaxy where he ends up in the first place.

I do agree that making the swarm of moths make an appearance only at the very end makes more sense than it flying by every single time, though. Its impact is much more prominent and it also accompanies Watashi's growth in that way. The way the timelines influence one another is also an anime-only thing for the most part, which is kind of weird (Watashi and one of his past selves never see each other while he's stuck in the tatami galaxy in the novel, for example, and the money he gathers there is not used to buy the Kamenoko brush).

Something else that I find very weird, and which also defies the whole point of the novel in my opinion, is the way the anime frames getting together with Akashi as Watashi's key to breaking out of the time loop, because the two of them actually... ended up together in every timeline already. Watashi's dissatisfaction resided in him always looking back at his past mistakes, in his "what if"s, all things Akashi has little to do with. And after months of wandering and isolation, that's when this happens:

[...] I didn’t feel like doing anything just yet and rolled back into my futon. I picked up the worm-eaten wisdom tooth that lay near my pillow. As I held that ill-omened, rotten tooth up to the light, my thoughts returned back to the old fortune teller in Kiyamachi.

I was still convinced that this whole baffling situation traced back to that old woman. She cajoled me with words like, “You have much earnest talent in you”, and laid this curse upon me, who was already struggling with hopes of escaping to a better life.

“Colosseum.”

What nonsense.

I no longer required that meaningful rose-colored campus life, that ultimate asset I had so coveted.

This was a frightening tooth, and I was amazed at how long I had resisted urges to get it checked out. The top of the tooth was hollowed out, and I could see its internal cross-section, as if it was a scientific mannequin. The more I looked at it, the less it looked like a wisdom tooth; it more closely resembled an ancient Roman construction… “Colosseum,” I breathed.

Suddenly, the sound of rustling came from the window.

Before I knew what happened, a squirming black cloud came pouring through the half-open window and into the room.

The swarm of moths that migrated throughout this world apparently passed through Room 0 on its route. [...]

I started to panic and attempted to escape to Room 1.

As I opened the door, the cool air of the corridor flowed by my cheeks.

The dusty wooden planks of the floor stretched before me into the darkness. On the ceiling, scattered electric lights dimly shone, and in the distant entrance hall, the white fluorescent lights gleamed in the darkness.

[...]

What was this feeling?

The night was alive.

It was like the Gion festival had come.

I breathed the fragrant atmosphere deep into my lungs, and stared up at the sky, which was slowly fading from peach to indigo, finally crumpling up my face, before unleashing a raw, primitive yell.

... And so he managed to escape to the real world. Of course he accepts life as it is in the anime too, but I just feel that it was reductive to use love as the catalyst for his development, that's all.