#it’s like 13 degrees outside right now!!! it feels like fall!!!

[inkykeiji]

some sage advice from co-star this morning (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

this is so true, but also so hard for me. i really want to forgive my father before he dies—not for him, but for me, for my own peace, so i don’t continue to carry this anger because it is so incredibly heavy—but i’m really struggling to do so ://

[heich0e]

When Umemiya and Mom get married, do they give Kosuke a little brother or little sister?

i think ume and reader are happy with their family as it is, and feel content not to have any more kids together. kosuke is every bit a son to hajime. he loves him unconditionally, with his entire heart. you have the conversation of course, but both of you are in agreement. you're more than satisfied with what you have. exceedingly grateful for it. you can't imagine anything more.

hajime graduates with his degree and qualifications as a child psychologist, and he starts his career soon after. most of his work is clinical, but outside his normal clinical role he volunteers with the alternative care sector: helping out whenever he can in group homes and family homes—just like, and including, the one he was raised in.

he comes home late one day, almost a decade into your relationship, dishevelled and clearly exhausted. kosuke (13 now, getting taller each day, and going through the phase where he only wants to hide in his room and play video games) has already gone to bed for the night, and you're left curled up on the couch waiting up for your husband's return. when he walks through the door he comes right to you, falling to his knees before you on the living room floor and burying his face against your tummy as he wraps his arms around you and holds tight.

it takes him a moment, pressed up against you with his grip still firm, but he tells you about the two little girls he met through the child guidance centre that afternoon: 4 years old and the other not yet 1, biological sisters, orphaned and facing separation since the youngest requires an infant care facility that isn't able to accept older children. hajime tells you with a strain in his voice how even when the baby gets old enough to transition to a family home, there's no guarantee the two will ever be reunited.

hajime's job is hard—he's seen countless heart-wrenching cases like this over the years, but he always endeavours through it because he knows that's what he has to do to help. you've seen him be others' strength so many times, seen him bear that weight without complaint or waver, but you can see how this time it's eating away at him.

it doesn't happen overnight. there are long, difficult conversations that have to happen: some just between yourself and your husband, and some with your son. there are meetings held in strangely lifeless playrooms in transitional facilities, where you get to know the two girls. meetings where you come to understand why hajime was so wholly taken by them, and come to care for them in just the same way.

and then, however unexpectedly, your family—the one you thought was perfect just the way it was—grows; two little sprouts appearing overnight after a rainstorm, who get to blossom under your care.

you never expected to have another child, let alone two of them, and certainly never expected to be raising another baby—especially not at your age.

you never thought you'd get to see hajime up doing midnight feeds, or diaper changes, or wake up to him dozing beside you in your bed with a teething baby on his bare chest because it was the only way he could get her to sleep. never thought you'd see your husband learn how to braid hair, or play dolls, or paint tiny little toenails.

you never pictured kosuke as a big brother, or anticipated how naturally he would take to it; reading bedtime stories, wiping away tears, and putting pink plasters on scraped knees he then kisses better.

but hikari and himari came home, changed everything, and from that moment on you couldn't imagine your life without them.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Ice Flowers Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)

[T/N: before reading the date, please read the prologue and event first. they're pretty short, plus the date references the event a lot and will make more sense with the event.]

✂———————–

✧ [Subbed Video Ver - Turn On CC!] ✧

✂———————–

✧ [Transcript Ver] ✧

—[Part 1]— Video Timestamp: [00:02]

The sound of the alarm clock wakes me up from my dream.

There is a faint sound of drizzling rain outside the window. I squint and glance at the dark and gloomy sky leaking through the gap in the curtains, then turn around to snuggle up to the soft warmth beside me.

MC: Lucien... the alarm is ringing…

My brain is reluctant to kick into gear, so I let instinct take over, wrapping myself around Lucien like a koala clinging to a tree.

Strands of my hair are gently teased by his breath, carrying a hint of nasal sound as it grazes past my ear.

Lucien: Do you want to get up now?

MC: Let me lie down a bit longer…

I bury myself deeper into Lucien's embrace, and a trace of warmth falls onto the tip of my ear.

(🥺 he's pecking her ear)

Lucien: But this Miss specifically instructed me last night to wake you up on time today to find the last specimen material.

Lucien: Do you plan to postpone the plan?

Memories struggle to surface in my mind, and I bury my head deeper in embarrassment.

MC: How about... ten more minutes?

He laughs softly, his hand gently patting my shoulder. Not sure if he's urging me to get up or coaxing me back to sleep.

Lucien: Collecting material shouldn't take that long. You can give yourself a few extra ten minutes.

His nearly indulgent tone makes me snuggle closer to him even more unscrupulously, and I rest my head in the crook of his neck.

MC: Today is perfect for lazing in bed…

Lucien: [hoarsely] After all, the temperature dropped last night, and now it's only four degrees.

Lucien: [whispers] Compared to the cold room, it's indeed more comfortable here.

MC: Hmm...? Wait, four degrees?

I open my eyes in surprise, reaching out to fumble around the bedside table.

MC: Didn't it warm up yesterday?

MC: I specifically loosened the soil in the flowerpots, thinking about planting the seeds I collected...

Lucien leans over me, fetching my phone and considerately opens the weather app.

Lucien: The cold wave is more severe than anticipated. The temperature dropped overnight yesterday. But if today's weather forecast is accurate, it should clear up by noon.

I stare dumbfounded at the plummeting temperatures on the screen. Instinctively, I shrink back into the blankets.

As if he has read my mind, Lucien smiles and tucks the blanket around me, snuggles close to me affectionately, as if he too is a little afraid of the cold.

Lucien: (whispers gently) Since the weather isn't cooperating, we can just stay at home today.

Lucien: I happen to have a few movies I've been wanting to watch with you. We haven't found the right opportunity before, but maybe today is perfect.

He looks at me with a gentle smile, his warm body heat enveloping me along with the soft blanket, inviting me to sink back into the gap between dreams and reality.

✂———————–

—[Part 2]— Video Timestamp: [02:28]

Staying in bed for the entire morning has provided comfort for both body and mind.

As noon approaches, sunlight begins to filter through the overcast clouds, signaling a clearing in the weather. The plan to go out and search for specimens is once again put on the agenda.

MC: Shall we just look around the neighborhood?

Lucien: Sure. Given the weather, there might be another rain shower later.

I retrieve two thick sweaters from the wardrobe, while Lucien brings matching scarves and coats.

This late spring chill is indeed quite fierce.

Despite the increasingly radiant sunlight, we still fully bundle up, and the air remains cold enough that I can't help but huddle close to Lucien.

As I nestle into my scarf, I scan our surroundings in all directions.

Although we're not going too far, I still want to try to find something sufficiently special to mark the end of this collection journey of over ten days.

MC: Those fallen leaves look quite beautiful! But considering we started with leaf specimens on the first day, wouldn't it lack a bit of originality?

Lucien: Hmm, plant specimens already make up a considerable proportion. We should indeed consider materials from other categories.

MC: Should we buy a butterfly specimen material kit to revisit the "original intention" of making specimens?

Lucien: But there's already a butterfly on the display shelf that you praised as special before.

Lucien: [with a hint of grievance in his tone] If your attention is taken by other similar specimens, it will hurt its heart.

The person next to me deliberately reveals a slightly distressed expression, yet he softly raises the corner of his lips.

Remembering the butterfly he made with clean and white fish bones, who knows how long it took him. I can't help but laugh and pull him away from the neighborhood.

MC: Let's go check out other places and seek some new inspiration!

Unfortunately, even after we leave the neighborhood, the situation hasn't changed much.

We went to our usual café, and took a stroll in the bookstore, but apart from getting a rosy nose from the cold, we came back empty-handed.

Seeing that it's about to drizzle again, I thought today's search might come to an end. However, Lucien quickly takes a couple of steps and leads me into the convenience store on the street.

The warm air, mixed with the aroma of cooked food, instantly dispels the cold from outside, like a small campfire amid a concrete jungle.

I relax my shoulders, which had tensed up from the cold, and lean in close to him as we walk to the counter, picking out a few skewers of fish balls, radishes, and other items for a warm hotpot.

MC: Convenience stores truly are an important part of the city…

MC: They provide warmth in winter, coolness in summer, and offer coffee and boxed meals for every working folks.

Lucien: It also serves as a resting spot for the little explorer who's been searching for a long time.

I hear the sound of a payment code being scanned. When I turn around, I see him grabbing two hot chocolate from the hot beverage section.

Lucien: Sugar helps activate the brain, encouraging people to make better decisions.

Lucien: After searching for so long without making a decision, do you have any particular thoughts about today's collection item?

He hands me one of the hot drinks, gesturing for me to sit at the bar table. Those calm eyes of his seem to have already seen through all of my thoughts.

I wrap my hands around the warm package, sipping the hot chocolate slowly, one gulp at a time.

The mild taste of milk softens the richness of chocolate, and the lingering sweetness dances on my lips and tongue. Normally, it might seem a bit too sweet, but at this moment, it tastes just right.

Perhaps because I’m back in a comfortable environment, the emotions that were lingering in my heart melt into the faint background noise, escaping from my lips with a shallow sigh.

MC: Do you think I'm too fixated on the idea of the "last specimen"?

MC: I always feel like what I find isn't special enough, and in the end, I come back empty-handed, spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing.

The light rain pitter-patters on the window, leaving long streaks of water behind.

Lucien also opens his hot chocolate, speaking softly.

Lucien: Although it may require more time and effort, I believe this kind of perfectionism is also an indispensable part of life.

Lucien: Since these specimens capture fragments of our lives, I'm not willing to compromise when it comes to matters related to you either.

A light and tender curve graces his lips as he reaches out to re-tie my scarf, forming a neat and beautiful knot.

Lucien: Moreover, better options might unexpectedly cross our paths in the future.

Lucien: Just like the surprises you've brought me time and time again.

He rubs my hair.

Lucien: So, stay with me a little longer on this road to the future.

I smile at him, then half seriously point to the convenience store loyalty card that came with the bill after he paid.

MC: If we still haven't found the right collectable by the end of today, let's turn this into a specimen.

MC: Let's use the blank squares to remind me that better things always await us in the future.

✂———————–

—[Part 3]— Video Timestamp: [06:35]

Returning in the afternoon, we add a new stamp to our loyalty card, and in our hands are snacks and drinks bought from the convenience store.

I was about to turn on the air conditioner when Lucien seemed to recall something and asked me to wait for a moment.

After a thorough search in the storage room, he brought in a small tea table with a built-in birdcage-shaped heater.

MC: What is this...? How did I not notice that we had something like this at home before?

Lucien: It's a gift from when the Bioultima Research Institute purchased machinery before.

Lucien: Thinking that you might enjoy the atmosphere of ‘gathering around a fire’ together, I stored it in the storage room. Finally, I have the chance to use it this time.

MC: What kind of machinery comes with a small heater as a gift?

Two completely unrelated things being connected caught me off guard for a moment.

Lucien: It’s from the manufacturers who provide constant-temperature incubators.

Lucien: During that period, they planned to expand their product line and started making electric blankets and heaters.

MC: Pfft…

I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched Lucien shrug his shoulders, plugging in the heater. I lay out a cozy "nest" with a blanket and waved him over to join me in one corner.

MC: Please step into the trap~

Lucien: I'm more than happy to fall into this trap.

He brought another blanket, further reinforcing our little corner.

The knob turns, and the heater lights up with an orange glow. The surrounding slightly damp and chilly air gradually warms up, becoming fluffy and cozy.

MC: Not bad, not bad. Indeed, it reflects the "scientific research standard"~ And using a small heater for warmth is much more romantic than turning on the air conditioner.

Under the blanket, I embrace his arm, his body temperature more comforting than the heater and snugly pressed against my side, we're all wrapped up tight under this flowery blanket.

MC: Since the heater comes with a small tea table, should we grab some things and warm them a bit?

MC: There's probably some oranges and snacks at home, and do we still have a big half-bottle of rice wine in the fridge?

Lucien: Mm. Besides the rice wine, there should be a jar of dried osmanthus in the kitchen cabinet.

MC: Sounds good!

I nod in satisfaction, already able to imagine how enticing this tea spread will be. Even the placement of each item is meticulously arranged in my mind, perfect in every detail.

Lucien: Aren't you going to get them?

Lucien's voice, tinged with confusion, pulls me back from the fragrant reverie to reality.

I sheepishly lift my head and stick out my tongue at him.

MC: It takes courage to face the cold head-on, and it also requires a bit of determination and time.

As I speak, I purposely blink at him and put on a pitiful expression.

MC: Or... could Professor Lucien do me a small favor?

Lucien: Well, that's a bit tricky. I'm reluctant to leave such a comfortable spot myself.

MC: Huh?

My tactic of being coquettish totally bombed, making me blink in a bit of surprise.

The gentle laughter ripples through the confined space. Under the blanket, he tightens his embrace around me, and with a sudden force, he lifts me to my feet.

Lucien: [whispers playfully] Since neither of us wants to leave the warmth of the blanket, why don't we just go together?

The blanket securely wraps us together as he takes slow steps forward, allowing me to move along with his stride.

His body warmth seeps through the fabric and onto my skin, providing a comforting warmth but this closeness also makes us stumble in our movements.

MC: We can't walk with you like this.

I laugh and try to poke him as usual, but almost lose my balance. With Lucien's quick eyes, his agile hands swiftly pull me back into his arms.

Lucien: For safety's sake, it's better if we stick together and move in unison.

He candorly spoke the childish suggestion, and as he looks into my eyes, they are sparkling with a bright smile.

I've always been helpless against him when he's like this, so I simply hug him tightly, raising a smile on my face.

MC: Then I'll take the lead~

MC: Left foot, right foot, left, right....

He cooperatively sways left and right with my "commands" as we move forward together.

The distance that was usually just a few steps away is lengthened as our body rubs against each other. Our laughter warms the blanket that gently brushes against our cheeks.

We move and drag our way slowly to the kitchen, teasingly hindering each other as we attempt to get the rice wine, fruits, and dried osmanthus.

With silent understanding, we wrap ourselves snugly in the blankets once again, nestling and rubbing against each other, as we slowly make our way back to the heater.

He doesn't release this prolonged hug until we both settle onto the sofa.

MC: It feels like you're exceptionally clingy today.

Lucien: [in husky tone] To ensure ample warmth, it's only natural to diligently protect the heat source.

MC: [laughs] Hmph, that's nonsense!

Although I say this, I happily share my body warmth with him, finding a more comfy spot as I lie down on his chest.

Snacks are placed on the tea table, carefully and slowly warmed. The mildly sweet aroma of heated rice wine mixes with the scent of osmanthus and citrus.

Lucien reaches out for a book, while I shelter inside his embrace and swipe my cell phone, allowing tranquility to sink and float along with the warm air in the room as we comfortably mind our own bussiness.

Occasionally, I take a few pastries and snacks to share with him, or pour two cups of rice wine. The delicate sound of clinking cups accompanies the smooth fragrance of the wine before it glides down our throats.

People are always particularly prone to indulging in sweet moments.

Whether it's the rhythmic flipping of book pages or the gradually equalizing frequency of sound in videos, my consciousness becomes entranced without me realizing it.

I don't know when I fell asleep, I just remember having a peaceful dream while wrapped in soft, cloud-like fabric.

As I stretch and yawn, I hear a soft voice coming from my side.

Lucien: Good Afternoon.

I look in his direction.

The late afternoon sun has sprinkled over the entire living room as if the previous cold and gloom were things of the distant past.

Amid all warmth and tranquility, beams of light shine generously and cordially, outlining his figure and casting a soft glow around him like a veil.

Lucien lazily props his hand against his face, the corners of his eyes and eyebrows gently curved into a soft arc.

The heater raised the indoor temperature, and his shirt was unbuttoned, showing off a lot of skin on his chest.

The blanket that was wrapped around him remains dutifully covering his body, cocooning him in coziness.

Everything is spread out in the sunlight, casting a sepia tone reminiscent of old movies.

Lucien: Why so quiet, are you still not fully awake yet?

He stretches out his fingers and waves them in front of my eyes.

MC: I'm already awake.

MC: I just woke up and was immediately greeted by a sight that delights the eye and warms the heart; I can't help but want to look at it a little longer.

I hook my fingers around his, letting the strands of my hair cascading over my shoulders slide down my back with the motion.

Lucien: Although I'd love to continue admiring you in front of me, I'm afraid I need to break this distance for now.

The unexpected answer left me momentarily stunned, just staring dazedly at him as his eyes unabashedly revealed a hint of grievance.

Lucien: You've been resting on my leg this whole time. I didn't dare to change positions at will.

Lucien: But it's really starting to feel numb.

MC: Pfft... You could've woken me up too, you know!

[a big fox who deliberately shows off his chest just to enjoy his lover’s stunned look and still uses the chance to openly ‘grieve’ as if he’s being ‘wronged’ pfft]

✂———————–

—[Part 4]— Video Timestamp: [13:14]

The rice wine is still warm, and there's still half a box of snacks left.

Sweetness fills the entire space, and I let out a contented sigh as I pour a small cup of rice wine for both him and myself.

As I taste the wine, my gaze curiously falls on the screen of Lucien's computer—there's a paper that seems a bit beyond my grasp, and beside him, there's also a book with specimen illustrations.

MC: What book are you reading?

Lucien: Literature on specimen preparation.

Lucien: Among the specimens we've made recently, the less conventional ones seem to make up the majority.

Lucien: Since there's such an opportunity, why not take the chance to brush up on some relevant professional knowledge?

MC: As expected of you! So, what has our Great Professor learned?

Lucien: I realized that my understanding of specimens may have some misconceptions.

He sets aside the computer and pulls me into his arms, flipping to a page in the book with illustrations of plant specimens, and starts to speak.

Lucien: In the field of collection, the significance of specimens mostly lies in preserving a particular moment of life forms, much like taking a photograph or recording a video.

Lucien: It can be understood as a record of the past.

Lucien: But from the perspective of scientific research, it mostly serves the research and analysis of relevant topics.

MC: From what it sounds like, it actually seems more like some kind of reserve for the future, doesn't it?

The person behind me nods and gently rubs his chin against the strands of hair on top of my head.

His scent, mingled with the fragrance of alcohol, fills my nostrils, as I attentively "listen" to his lecture, yet greedily rub against his neck.

Lucien: The side branches we prune from the hydrangea will encourage more lush growth, and perhaps the seeds you've brought will sprout someday in the future.

Lucien: There are still many spaces left on the loyalty card waiting for us to fill.

Lucien: Compared to keeping records, it seems that our collection shelf has also unconsciously left many expectations for the future.

Lucien: I should also learn from these specimens to find the presence in life that will make you pay attention…

There's a dark undercurrent in his eyes that lures me to delve deeper, as if there’s a river flowing with honey, making me willingly and wholeheartedly drown in it.

Lucien: Then I'll put what I've learned into practice, and bring back home even more things that can make my little lady happy.

Lucien: And not to end up like today, "spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing”.

A speck of warmth touches the tip of my nose, bringing back memories of the cold, wind-filled morning.

Not to be outdone, I pinch his earlobe. The blanket slowly moved, causing the book originally placed on me to fall to the ground.

MC: I thought you were going to announce some groundbreaking scientific discovery, how did we end up here?

Lucien ignores the fallen book and just grabs my wrist with his free hand, then firmly holds it with his fingers.

Our already close distance is further reduced, and I can almost feel his breath brushing past my lips.

Maybe it's from knocking back too much rice wine, but the heart pounding in the chest is loud and clear in my ears, yet I can't tell if it's his beat or mine.

Lucien: I thought this conclusion hit the nail on the head.

Lucien: After all, it's only through practical application that theory can truly prove its worth.

Our breath intertwines and circulates with each exhale and inhale, floating amidst the gaps of beautiful dreams, as the light, airy sense of haziness envelops my body once again.

I simply lean forward, closing the last bit of distance between us, and affectionately kiss his cheek.

MC: But for me, what leads me to look forward to the future is neither memories nor specimens.

MC: Rather, it's you.

His long eyelashes resemble the antennae of a butterfly, trembling ever so slightly as if confirming something, casting an alluring look.

MC: You gave me a hot chocolate, a little heater for warming the rice wine, a warm blanket, blank loyalty cards...

MC: And there's also an exceptionally clingy Professor Lucien.

MC: [smiles widely] It's you who brought romance and anticipation into my life.

Lucien's breath momentarily hitches, and then a warm sigh flows out from his lips.

Lucien: Then let's leave the last space on the shelf empty, we'll make this sense of anticipation our final collection. And together, let's wait for the next wave of happiness to arrive.

MC: Sure, leaving it blank does add a poetic touch.

Following my heart's desire, I kiss his eyelids. The gentle kisses and embraces weave a finely knit yet dense web, slowly making us fall into a light trance.

We enjoy the blurry and dizzying moment peacefully until a faint pattern on the window catches my eye in the hazy light.

I look towards the windowsill and find a delicate pattern drawn by ice crystals as if it were a fragment left behind by winter.

Lucien: What's wrong?

Sensing my distraction, Lucien softly pinches the nape of my neck, attempting to bring back my attention to what we were doing.

MC: I've discovered a happiness that has arrived unexpectedly.

MC: Lucien, look, there's an ice flower on the window.

With a smile, I break away from his embrace and casually pick up the book that had fallen aside for a long time, handing it back to him.

Lucien's gaze falls on that place, a hint of astonishment lighting up his dark eyes, which are even more touching than the view on the window.

MC: I didn't expect to see ice flowers. I'm starting to quite like today's cold air.

The gaze that had captivated me suddenly shifts, and the only thing reflected in those eyes is me, gazing back at him just as deeply.

Lucien: Then let's seize it.

His large hand covers the back of my hand, guiding me as our hands slowly glide along the window together.

The tips of his fingers seemed to shine with a faint, unnoticeable light.

Before I can ponder over it, starting from the point that we touched, ice crystals spread from the windowsill towards the center, spreading out into feather-like patterns.

I forget to breathe for a moment.

He continues guiding my movements until the entire window is covered with exquisite patterns we've drawn together.

MC: So beautiful!

I throw myself into his arms, my hands instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.

The tiny fragments transform into graceful patterns covering the entire window, imprinting the intertwined warmth and cold, weaving a flower that belongs only to winter in the spring.

I've heard that ice flowers on windows, just like snowflakes, each have their own unique shapes.

The beauty captured by him must indeed be a mark that belongs solely to him.

Lucien: Is this "material" enough to become our final specimen and deepen your anticipation for the future?

With a faint smile, he pulls the curtains further apart, allowing this scenery to be fully displayed before us.

MC: There won't be a better specimen than this!

MC: Thank you for personally "capturing" the future in front of me.

I tilt my head up and place a kiss on the side of Lucien's face, unable to suppress the smile at the corners of my lips.

MC: In that case, I'll try to give you more "now" as a gift in return.

A pair of slender eyes gently curve, quietly awaiting the words I'm about to say.

MC: I'm not as amazing as you, who is always able to see so far ahead...

MC: Always able to move forward with such determination, turning that mere anticipation of the future into reality, surprising me time and time again.

MC: But just like today, I can find various little sceneries around us.

MC: And then tell you, "Lucien, look, a flower is blooming over there."

The cold light outside the window filters through layers of ice crystals, refracting into tiny iridescent rainbows, and melting into his warm and flowing gaze.

A kiss, like an answer, lands on the corner of my lips, letting me taste a sweetness sweeter than all the drinks and refreshments in the world.

Lucien: [hoarsely] After experiencing happiness, people will naturally have expectations for the future.

Lucien: [x2] They’ll have the desire to relive the experiences they once had, again and again, or seek other happiness they haven’t yet experienced.

Lucien: [x3] But now, I feel that, compared to the distant future, the present moment is even more touching.

Lucien's lowered voice sounds a bit hoarse, reminding me of a big fox's subtle purring when it's in a pleasant mood.

Lucien: [x4!] After all, in the face of the immediate beauties, all hypotheses about expectations will seem too illusory.

Lucien: For example, the ice flower that bloomed in this window because of your attention.

The hand embracing my waist intimately confines me, and it feels as if the temperature inside the room has heated up again.

Lucien: And another example is you.

The heater emits heat that makes people cling to the warmth, and all the wonderful scents I can think of are blending and surrounding me.

Spring has just begun, and there are still many good days ahead.

✂———————–

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Coastal Shack

4. Looks like this is my new home -- wonder where the old one went?

SHIVERS - Westward, across the canal, towers the Whirling-in-Rags. Door #1 on the second floor is locked, behind it lies a trashed room. One floor below, behind a counter, stands an irritable man.

In a small shack in the fishing village, a baroque heater hums quietly, emanating a sense of comforting warmth. A washbasin lies on the table, the water inside reflecting the sombre face of the world.

Far away, on the corner of Perdition and Main, a nondescript building, obscured in a haze. It's vacant and lost, just like its tenant.

"This feels like a cozy hideout."

Thank you, strange sensation, for a fair assessment of the current situation.

No, wait, I changed my mind, I want to choose again.

SHIVERS - Who are you talking to? There is no one here. Not even cold.

2. No, wait, I changed my mind, I want to choose again.

SHIVERS - There is no going back.

Outside, the howl of the wind has picked up. The waves crash against the stilts again. It's as if you think the thought, but in someone else's voice...

LOOK UNDER THE FLOORBOARDS

MIRROR - An old mirror hangs on the wall. You see the reflection of your face in it -- adorned with *The Expression*.

[Encyclopedia - Formidable 13] Dig deep into your mind to locate the source of *The Expression*.

We don't currently have any clothing that increases our Encyclopedia. Still, with Actual Art Degree, it's not as though we're short on skill points...

ENCYLOPEDIA [Formidable: Failure] - Like the rest of you, it comes from a bad place somewhere in the past. That's all you know for now.

3. [Let the mirror be for now.]

BED - The bed is comforting, if a bit run down. Still you've earned a rest.

Go to sleep.

No time to rest yet. [Leave.]

BED - Across the room, the heating system hums its soft lullaby. The mattress feels soft and sheets warm. It only takes you moments for the world to fall away...

...

🎵 Tiger King

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - Thoughts, baby. A million little lights in the dark. You're one fine instrument, brother -- all those faces and all those names, all that laughter and screaming and scheming around... Every corner and every street...

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Recorded in you. Forever. On ferrotape.

Spinning in eternity.

Spinning on empty.

Spinning, spinning... tell me, am I dreaming?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - No. You're spinning tapes at the discotheque. The great, unceasing disco of the mind. The flash! The bang! The endless *learning* experience.

Spinning in eternity.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - On and on it goes, for untold hours. At the disco where you first asked her to dance. Rising -- rising! -- above the dark curvature. The great wingspan of sleep, studded with stars.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Behold, there are *millions* of them down there. The first time. The last time. The smoke in her mouth, the potted flowers, the faces: turning, changing.

*What* is it?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - It's the *world*, Harry-boy. And you're *made* of it. Every day you're out there you make more of yourself from it. I'm afraid you can't be *unmade* now.

You can never forget this shit.

The colors. The voices.

The rain, the snow... I don't want to. It's beautiful.

The endless visions. Erase them.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - All *stuck* on loop... Whirling, spitting out words and images.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - You're the son of the World again. Harrister -- a ceaseless agent picking up litter and old newspapers, collecting your little bubble gum wrappers and idiotic picture post cards. Meaningless, meaningless keepsakes.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Reading your awful letters and *recalling* things, aren't you? The endless names of the world... An address book, you are. The map of a city.

That's right. I *am* an agent of the world.

But what if I want to be the agent of nothing?

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - It's too late. You're not *made* of nothing anymore, you're something now, Harry. I tried to drown you in the black water but you re-emerged. Kicking and screaming. Running. And for what?

RHETORIC [Trivial: Success] - For the working class.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Solving your little crossword puzzles? Doing your tasks, crossing names off your lists? Trying to become some sort of world-detector... It won't make it *okay*. It won't put smoke back in her mouth...

I'm building communism for all. This time we won't fail… [Pursue thought.]

Forget politics. I'll never sleep if I keep on like this.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - There he goes again. He's a real political animal, our Harry. He still doesn't see that it's the world that's changing *him*...

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN - He's got no idea what he's in for.

Why?

Feel the pillow under your cheek.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - *Coz only love can break your heart...*

Feel the pillow under your cheek.

LIMBIC SYSTEM - Beep-beep-beep! The alarm is ringing, Harry. The disco circus goes on and on! You barely slept three hours last night.

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - You can do it. It's nothing. Do it for the city. Go.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Do it for the wind.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - Do it for the picture puzzle. Put it all together. Solve the world. One conversation at a time.

[Open your eyes.]

END OF DAY 3.

[tokiro07]

Undead Unluck ch.161 thoughts

[Enter the Dragon]

Tozuka, when I asked for “falling action” I didn’t mean the action of falling that we saw last week, I meant a moment to reflect on the events of the preceding arc. I really want an opportunity for Phil to interact with the group outside of the moments of tension, where we can see what kind of person he usually is and the life he usually leads. I’m sure we’ll get that sooner or later, I’m just a little sad that we’re jumping straight into the next arc

HOWEVER!!! This next arc is immediately shaping up to be a very exciting one!!! As you may have seen in the tag, folks are super excited to see the return of Shen, and to top it off, Mei is alive in this timeline!! I’m not entirely sure, but she seems to be older! She looks to be drawn about the same height and build as Fuuko, suggesting that she’s somewhere between 15 and 18 if I had to estimate. I guessed several reviews ago that Shen’s backstory likely happened in 2003 with him being about 13 so that he’d be 30 in 2020, but since his age was never established, he could feasibly be any age, probably pushing 40 if he’s around 18 in 1999. I guess he could have been born early this time, but I’m always hesitant to make that guess

The real significance to Mei being older here, though, is what it means for Shen’s backstory: SHEN DIDN’T DROP HER!!! Feng never pitted Shen and Mei against each other, he never pushed Mei over the cliff, and Shen never got Mei killed with Untruth! Not to say that they won’t end up in that scenario during this arc, but the two of them got to actually grow up together, and it’s all thanks to Fuuko!

Fuuko becoming the object of Feng’s obsession has led to him completely changing his interactions with Shen, though to what extent we can only guess for now. We know he still plans to kill Shen to prove to Fuuko that he’s stronger, but he still needs to raise him to become strong enough that doing so holds meaning. I can’t imagine that they’re on necessarily better terms, but at least murderous revenge isn’t on the table this time

Mei says that Shen needs to be saved, presumably from himself if I had to guess. I figure he’s gotten obsessed with being the strongest for some other reason than avenging Mei this time, and he’s pushing himself to a dangerous degree. Maybe it has something to do with Mui, this time? She’s almost definitely going to be coming into play during this arc (if for no other reason than convenience) so having her be a key player in Shen’s new backstory would be a helpful way to reintroduce her to the current loop

Fuuko’s fight with Mei also served as a great appetizer for this upcoming tournament arc, with Fuuko showing off a new Unluck technique! Using her long hair, she wraps it around her arms as bracers while also forming blades that should look familiar to everyone! They’re almost identical to Andy’s Dead Blades, further demonstrating not only Fuuko’s growth, but Andy’s continued influence on her! Makes me excited to see how Undead has evolved over the last four billion years, likely with some inspiration from Andy’s desire to see Fuuko

Jumping forward to the tournament, LOOK AT THOSE OUTFITS!!! Fuuko and Yusai really pull off those uniforms, and for some reason, I’m really liking how Billy looks. Maybe it’s wearing the jacket as a cape, maybe it’s that big ol’ smile, or maybe it’s because I’ve always had a bit of a thing for that style of pants, but that’s a good lookin’ man right there

Feng’s expression when he sees Fuuko is also pretty fun. I know it’s a self-indulgent read, but there’s...a weird sense of romanticism to anyone being that excited to see another person. I guess this is the feeling people get with hateships? Or yanderes? ...Huh, Fuuko pairs really easily with people whose appearances belie their ages, doesn’t she? Andy, Gina, Feng...wonder what’s gonna happen with Ruin...

As for how this arc is going to go, I’m hoping we get to have a little bit of time with Yusai specifically, as I feel like we haven’t gotten nearly enough development for her. Honestly, since she was the elderly master type like Feng previously, I can see her having a good rapport with Feng

Before I finish up, I want to just touch on the little details real quick, as I am wont to do

I’m glad to see that even without his sense of taste (I assume), Phil is able to eat thanks to Entruster. Wasn’t as much of a downside as it was presented to be, I guess!

Sean closing his eyes when he smiles turned him invisible. It’s always fun to see Tozuka pay attention to that, I’d probably end up forgetting half the time if it were me

Continuing Tozuka’s love of Gundam, the announcer for the tournament is a pastiche of the announcer from G Gundam, right down to the eyepatch and mustache

...Where did Gina get a smartphone in 1999?

While I’ve obviously been loving every arc in this loop (and every arc prior), I think this might be the most excited that the first chapter of an arc has gotten me for what’s to come since chapter 1! I anticipate it won’t actually be a tournament arc, but Negator vs. Negator is always the most fun match-up type for me personally, so any battles we get here are sure to be great! See y’all next week!

[sannflwrr]

How To Get Out of the Friend Zone: A (Chaotic) Guide by Jisung (Ch. 3)

Author: sannflwrr

Pairing: Jisung x MC

Genre: Frenemies(-ish) to Lovers

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mentions of smoking, weed, drugs, alcohol, homophobia (homophobics are not allowed on my page), some sexual themes, and of course - angst

Summary: Bae is obsessed with making the most of her time during college. She has a very colorful group of friends who make living life recklessly fun, and a dance team that throws all sorts of unparalleled events in her way. Along the way, she falls (hard) for many people, but what will it take for her to realize everything she’s wanted has been in front of her the whole time?

RULE 2: DON’T ALWAYS BE AVAILABLE.

November is spent watching the leaves die, sleeping in the library, and forgetting to shower. Truthfully, she could be doing better - taking better care of herself would help with this, but she had no motivation to do that, the only thing keeping her from spiraling into a depressive episode was drowning herself in school work and her dance team. So that’s what Bae did. 

She steered clear of the alcohol for a bit, seeing no reason for it since there was no occasion that called for it. She wasn’t going to any parties, small hangouts or not. Outside of seeing Mark in class, or going to her team practices, there wasn’t much social interaction in Bae’s life. Honestly, she was okay with that. 

Two weeks ago, her and Karina had been scheduled to get dinner together. A way of compensating for no longer living together - that made it easier to schedule things like this so that had a set date for every few months where they would go out and eat. It was a nice policy, but Bae had to cancel in the light that she had a paper due that evening. Now, two weeks later, she asked if tonight was a better time for Karina - it worked for her - so she was supposed to meeting her in a few hours. In the meantime, Bae decided to take a walk, and enjoy the sights in her silence. 

In the midst of her walk, she passed the skate park a ways off campus. This was where she first hung out with Jungwoo. She laughs to herself. This is the first time in a while that she’s thought of the man outside of practice. Seeing him in there wasn’t as awful as she thought it might’ve once been, maybe it’s because she doesn’t care anymore. She left her feelings for him at that bus bench where she cried her eyes out to Jaehyun, and since then, seeing Jungwoo or being around him isn’t…painful anymore. 

And she recognizes someone at the park when she sits down at one of the benches, Jeno. He doesn’t talk much about himself whenever she’s around him, so seeing him with his board surprises her, just because she hadn’t realized this was one of his hobbies. At the same time, she knows she shouldn’t. This seems like a hobby that was only natural for a guy like Jeno. 

He doesn’t notice her at first, which makes sense since she’s pretty far away from where he is, but eventually he does. And waves at her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

“I wasn’t either.” She admits, letting out a laugh. “I didn’t even know you skated.” 

He shrugs. “I’m a man of many mysteries.” He is definitely right about that one. She can count on her hands how many things she knows about him. Bae can assume that Jaemin would know the most about Jeno, since they’re always tied at the hip, but this makes her wish she did know more about him. But, at least does care about all of them to a degree - as seen when he got into a fight with that dude for Karina. Maybe that’s his way of caring, through actions rather than words. 

They exchange a few more words, Bae can probably mark this as the longest conversation she’s ever held with him, before he skates back to his group of friends. She’s noticed that they watched him talk to her curiously, and that they seem to be asking him about her when he gets back. That makes her laugh. 

She pulls out her earphones, and begins to listen to some music over the noise of wheels against the pavement. She still needs to go back and do her laundry, along with finishing her homework she allotted to herself for the day - so that by the end of week, she’s accomplished everything that needs to be done. But seeing that she only has a couple hours left, and the commute back home takes a half hour, and it’ll take her another half hour to actually get into the zone - Bae finds it more productive of her time to just waste it here at the skate park. She can probably finish her work once she gets home from the dinner. 

The music is loud in her ears, loud enough that Bae doesn’t hear the roll of wheels coming closer and closer to her until she hears a voice call for her attention. Standing in front of her is an orange-haired man. He wears a similar outfit to Jeno, but this man is a little taller, probably a little older too. His orange hair is messy, and it touches his neck. 

“Bae Chen?” 

“The one and only.” She hesitates before speaking again, trying to wrack her brain on who this man is. She doesn’t recall talking to him before, any guy who looks like him is someone she definitely would recognize. “I’m so sorry, have we met before?” 

“Not really.” He’s wearing a loose T-shirt that reaches past his pockets. The sleeves expose a few tattoos doodled across his arms, notably one of hello kitty on his wrist. “We took english 103 together last year on Zoom, I think. We were in the same final group.” 

Her lips purse. “Oh…Yuta, right?” Now it’s ringing a bell. She never saw this man in person, but she did recognize how to spell his name since Yuta Nakamoto in a black box was all she saw two days a week for a few months. They had gotten along really well, and even agreed to meet up sometime in the beginning of the year. Over the break, she forgot about it…as he did, probably. “Wow, it’s nice to finally see you in-person. How’s everything?” 

He shrugs. “Could be better, could be worse. I’m doing alright.” He pulls out a pack of Marlboro. “You smoke?” 

Yuta notices her hesitation and pulls it away slightly, trying not to come off as pressuring, but she shrugs. “Not often, but why not.” 

The first (and last) time she had smoked was with Jisung. Entering college, Bae had been extremely inexperienced with the smoking and drinking that so many of her other friends were accustomed to, to the point that she didn’t know how to smoke either. She had been embarrassed of the fact back then, looking back on it now she’s not really - it was better that she stayed shielded from something that could have corrupted her life so fast at such an impressionable age. Jisung also didn’t have too much more experience in smoking in comparison to her, but he at least knew the basics so he taught her. At least, after he made fun of her for being a priss. 

Yuta takes out his lighter to light the cigarette between her lips. Jisung taught her how to smoke one just for the art - as he worded it. Cigarettes looked cool, but they were so out of fashion lately. What a shame that Yuta also smoked them. Deciding that she doesn’t know him too well, Bae doesn’t comment on it. 

It doesn’t taste good, or feel good - she doesn’t really know how to describe the sensation - as she inhales the tar that burns from the rolled substance, but she pushes down the feelings, focusing more on the relaxed Yuta who stands in front of her. Maybe her type is guys who smoke cigarettes. Even though she hates them. 

“You know Jeno?” 

“We’ve talked a few times.” He nods. “Not really. He keeps to himself.” 

“That seems accurate. He’s like that with us too.” 

“How do you know him?”

“He’s friends with a good friend of mine. Over the years, we’ve hung around each other. He’s maintained the mysterious personality.” 

“Oh yeah?” Whereas Bae’s staring at the subject of their conversation, she notices Yuta’s still looking at her. That thought alone makes her insides flutter. In a way that had remained dormant after Jungwoo broke her heart at the arcade. “I get why he hangs around.” 

Bae doesn’t know how to respond, so she just continues to watch Jeno, who’s trying some trick (and failing repeatedly), and laughs nervously. Not in like nervously-please-stop, but like a hahaha-you’re-cute-but-I-don’t-know-how-to-say-it-without-being-weird nervous. 

So, she pulls out her phone. “Here.” It’s open to the contacts app. “I remember we said we should meet up, but never got around to it. This way, I won’t forget again.” 

He fills in his number with one hand, a smile spread on his lips. “One of my guys is having a party this weekend, if you wanted to go. I’m going to be there.” 

“Oh yeah?” Bae glances from his orange hair to her phone. This feels like new air circulating through her lungs. When Yuta hands the phone back, she finally makes eye contact with him. “I am actually free this weekend. So I'll see you there.” 

His smile is gorgeous, and if there was a word that meant more gorgeous than gorgeous, it was that. She had a feeling she would do anything to keep him smiling, it just made him that much more radiant. If Bae had a smile like that, she would always have her camera on in a Zoom class. She wonders why his was never on. 

“I’ll text you the address.” 

“Great.” She gets up, deciding to resume her walk back to the center of campus. “I should get going. I’ll see you at the party!”

He says goodbye as she’s walking away, but Bae doesn’t turn around to wave, afraid that he’ll see the huge grin on her face. 

Karina is the first to hear about Yuta, which then passes to Chenle, then Jisung, then to Jaemin, and finally Jeno. The flabbergasted look on Jeno’s face when he hears a name that he’s associated with is priceless, it’s the most amount of emotion she sees from him. Eyebrows scrunched, mouth hanging wide open. “Seriously?” 

“He invited me to a party.”

“And you went?” Jeno presses, still surprised. Karina snorts at his reaction. Bae nods. “Was I not supposed to?” 

“Wait, hold on.” Chenle holds out a hand. “Jeno, you’re telling me your little ring of skater friends have parties? And you didn’t invite me to any of them?” 

“They’re not your crowd.” He says simply, to which Chenle gawks at immediately. “Meaning they’re not your crowd,” He says again, gesturing to the entire group sitting on the couch. “That’s why I’m surprised when she said she went. You liked it?” 

“I mean…” She hesitates now, realizing that this is an invitation for her to explain exactly what happened. Karina’s struggling to look at Bae without laughing because she already knows everything that happened at the party. “I was there for like an hour max? It wasn’t too bad from what I saw.” 

“Well, I wanna’ know what’s up with these parties.” Chenle asks, still surprised that his friend had been holding out on him. “Jeno, you better invite me next time.”

“I hardly go.” That seems to line up, since Bae had been expecting to see him (but didn’t) at the party. “I brought Jaemin once.”

The other nods. “Yeah, they invited some underground band. There was a contemp dancer there too, shit was weird. I think everyone was on acid, so they didn’t seem to care much.” He laughs at Chenle’s expression, now knowing that Jeno had not only hid this from him but also brought Jaemin and not him. “It was a one-time thing, I’m pretty sure that’s the only time we’ve gone.” 

“That was the last time I went.” Jeno confirms. Then he looks back at Bae. “It wasn’t weird?”

“I mean people were doing stuff. I smoked a little. It wasn’t that weird. It was too dark mostly, I couldn’t really see too much.” 

“You smoked?” Jisung tilts his head. “I thought you don’t like to smoke.” 

“I mean not really. He offered so I didn’t really want to say no.” She notices his expression twist into something of a scoff, not skipping a beat to make fun of her. Bae rolls her eyes at him, not bothering to argue. If Yuta asked her again, she probably would, even if it was awful. That might be a bad thing, but Bae’s not too good at making the best decisions. 

“So why did you leave after an hour?” Karina asks, her smile betraying the fact that she wants to laugh. “What happened?” Oblivious to the tone underlying, Chenle also hops on, asking the same thing. 

Bae glares at Karina. She doesn’t really like to make her relationship history an open book, especially to all of the guys just because it’s weird…Jisung always finds an opportunity to make fun of her taste in men and tells her the guy she picked out is trash, Karina decides to agree with him and tell her that the guy she likes is probably ugly, and Chenle just laughs at her for even liking people in the first place. 

“Fine! I hooked up with him.” Those six words are enough to silence the entire room for a few seconds, and she watches as the guys digest her words, one after the other. Karina’s not surprised since she already knew - Bae suspects she had been plotting this from the start - Jisung looks the most taken aback, which he usually is whenever she mentions hooking up with anyone. Chenle seems to be having a silent conversation with Karina, slight furrowing in his brows as he presses the other girl for more information, he’s noticed that she already knew this fact. Jaemin is amused, like he expected this to be the outcome, and Jeno’s expression is unreadable. She can’t tell what Jeno’s means out of all of them - and his is the one she’s most curious about. 

“That’s why I left early.” She concludes. “To hook up with him.” 

“I mean, was it good?” Chenle blurts.

“I don’t…want to talk about that?” Bae flusters. Karina laughs immediately, again, she knows exactly what that means. Chenle spends the next few seconds trying to dissect what that means, while Jisung stares at the wall behind Bae. He’s probably trying to think of some way to tease her for this. What concerns her is that Jeno mumbles something in Jaemin’s ear after he’s recomposed himself. Out of them all, Jeno is still the one who knows Yuta the best, being a part of the same ring of friends. 

“Is that weird?” She asks carefully, directing her words to him. She wants to ask if she made a mistake, but it sounds a lot more vulnerable in her head than she wants it to come off as, so she retracts her words. He shrugs. 

“I don’t know.” Honestly, a yes or no could have been a better answer. But Jeno’s confusion makes her worried. She hopes she didn’t walk right into a mistake. But someone like Yuta couldn’t possibly be a mistake. That night had been amazing, in more ways than one. He was sweet to her even when they had class together. He had been great to her at the skate park, and even at the party. His attention had been mainly on her at the party, which felt great. It had been a long time since someone made her feel like she was on top of the world. 

So, even though Jeno seems to know something he’s reluctant to share, Bae doesn’t press him on it. Frankly, she doesn’t want to know. She’s too happy right now to care. 

Over the next few weeks, Bae becomes familiar with the woody smell of Yuta’s apartment, and his creme-colored bed sheets. Going to class becomes less of a distraction from her sad sad sad life, and instead is something she does out of the newfound happiness in her life. Mark made a comment at some point that she looked a little less dead, to which she responded to him with the same thing. He told her he started taking adderall, which might’ve done the trick. Bae knew very well what she was doing could be something along the lines of a drug. 

After her classes finished for the day, Bae decided to treat herself at the bubble tea shop on the way back to her apartment. It’s a campus favorite, and usually whenever she goes, she finds someone she recognizes - that’s how popular it is. The weather is getting colder by the day, but that doesn’t deter her from getting an iced oolong milk tea. As she takes her receipt, she recognizes Jisung’s mop of black hair sitting at a booth facing away from the door. Her sliding into the seat across from him surprises him, he glances up from his phone immediately to probably ask who the fuck is sitting across from him, but then relaxes when he realizes it’s Bae. To top it off, he rolls his eyes at her. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Am I not allowed to buy a drink for myself?” 

He raises a brow. “Not while I’m here.” 

“Ugh. And to think I was excited to see you here too.” Jisung had mentioned over text that there was this new girl he was seeing - his definition of seeing is just hooking up (he’s been in his hoe phase for several years now, if Bae had a dollar for every girl that made it into his hoe phase, she would be rich). “I was going to ask about Aeri Uchinaga. That’s her name right?” 

He looks away, and back at his phone. He doesn’t appear to be flustered, which makes her want to press further. “Yeah.” 

Her and Jisung follow basically the same people, so it didn’t take long for her to notice that user aeriuchinaga on Instagram was posting pictures of bubble tea dates, and outings to the arcade, all of which had hands that were very similar to the ones holding Jisung’s phone across from her. When she asked him about it, that’s when he finally decided to mention it to her. 

“So? Do you like her?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “She’s nice.” Bae‘s about to protest that he’s not giving her much to work with, but the barista suddenly calls for her order, so she leaves him with a glare to pick up her order. By the time she returns, Jisung’s already standing up. 

“You’re leaving?” She asks. Maybe she’s a little disappointed that he’s being so closed off when talking about his recent fling. Maybe not even maybe, she is definitely disappointed. She loves to get on his nerves by probing around his dating life and asking him all these questions, but at the end of the day she also is genuinely curious. As annoying as he is, she still considers Jisung a great friend. 

“I was just going to go wherever you’re headed.” 

“I’m going home.”

“Okay.” He tells her, pushing the door open for her. 

“So you guys matched on Tinder?” 

“You’re not leaving it alone?” 

She groans. “Jisung. Is it that bad that I’m curious?” 

“I'm not really asking questions about Yuta.” He responds. 

“Well, you and I aren’t the same. I just want to know…” She trails off. Bae is curious about who this Aeri Uchinaga girl is. She wants to know why exactly she and Jisung linked up, and if he really did like her. It would be nice to see that Jisung finally did get himself into a relationship after bouncing from one fling to another. Not that flings are bad, she just felt that Jisung deserved something more permanent. Bae knew that from time to time Jisung disappeared from the group, sometimes it ranged from a couple weeks to a few months. He never explained the disappearances, just said that he had “gotten busy” and had been “taking time for himself”. Maybe all that was true, but she knew Jisung better than that and also knew that he tended to brush off how deeply he experienced emotions. Typical toxic masculinity tendencies. It would be better that if he did disappear, he had someone who was more than a friend to check in on him. 

She mutters a “whatever” under her breath, probably too quiet for him to hear. If he really doesn’t want her to ask, then she won’t. Bae spends the next few minutes sipping through her straw. The silence is awkward, but not totally unbearable. With Jisung, this kind of silence that passes them happens all the time. Over the years, she got accustomed to it. Usually, he’s too far in his thoughts to notice that she’s gone silent. 

Honestly, sometimes she wonders what it is that makes her still hang out with him. And why he still lingers around her. He pisses her off more than he makes her laugh. Yet, she’ll still walk him back to his house if he’s too drunk. And she still wants to talk to him if she runs into him at a cafe. And if he’s hungry she lets him eat her food. 

It’s her tendency to care too much, she concludes. 

He’s on his phone next to her, presumably texting someone. When she glances over curiously, she can see the conversation history between him and someone named ‘Aeri’ in his contacts. At that moment, another message pops up, so he exits from their chat. She’s disappointed to find out that it’s just Karina who texted him. Somehow that girl always has impeccable timing. 

“What are you making for dinner?” He asks her, now responding to Karina. They seem to be talking about Lexapro - an odd topic. God bless her amazing vision.

“Nothing for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She scowls, nudging him with her shoulder. Jisung clicks his tongue almost immediately and puts his phone away. Seems like that was enough for him to finally start talking to her.

“Why not?” 

“I need to go grocery shopping. I'm not spending more grocery money on you. You still owe me from the other day.” 

“I’ll pay.” He offers. “Let’s go.” 

“Don’t think this lets you off the hook for the noodles.” She reminds him, shooting him a glare. “You’re paying for today, Park Jisung.” 

This makes him laugh for some reason, like a genuine relaxed Park Jisung laugh, which makes her also relax a little. His hand grabs onto her elbow, nudging her forward. “Okay okay, I got it. Let’s hurry then, it’s getting dark.” 

Shotaro kept mentioning some event that JUSA - Japanese Undergrad Student Association - was having was happening today. He’d mentioned it to their team during practice last week, and the week before, and the week before that, asking them to come. He had so much optimism for the organizations that he was a part of, which right now seemed to be their dance team and JUSA. He’d mentioned to Bae that she should really come, it was a carnival event of some sort. It was cold out so having an outdoor event in this degree weather probably wasn’t the smartest, but JUSA made it worth it by doing the term ‘carnival’ justice. It certainly looked like one.

Shotaro had also mentioned to her that he was looking to join the board, that he had a lot of ideas - typical eagerness and excitement from a freshman. She had just laughed at him when he told her this, he asked her what was funny and she brushed it off, saying it was nothing and that he definitely should go for it. So she’s mainly at this carnival wearing 5 layers of jackets just for him. They’ve occupied the field outside of the campus gym, many different booths and games in a large circle mapping the entire perimeter of the field. She finally finds him after a minute of scanning over the tables repeatedly. Bae‘s not sure how she missed that head of blond hair. 

“Bae!” He’s manning the caramel apples, and beams at her instantly. “Do you want an apple?” 

She’s not a huge fan of caramel apples, but she nods, just for his sake. “Sure. How long are you running this table?” 

“The entire time, so the next two hours.” 

“Oh shit.” Bae knew she could never be bothered to do that for that long, especially in this weather - she hates winter. “They better give you that board position then.” 

“Yeah, I was talking to Aeri, our VP, and she said they’d definitely want me on the board. Isn’t that so exciting? It’s only my first year but-”

“Wait.” She recognizes that name. “Aeri? Like Aeri Uchinaga?” 

He nods quickly. “Yeah. You know her? I think she’s in your grade.” He glances at a spot behind Bae. “She’s actually supposed to be running this table with me, since she’s on the board. And she’s heading our way right now.” Wow, her luck is amazing. 

The first thing Bae notices is her dark red hair, which really suits her. She smiles at Shotaro, then at Bae. “You’re Bae Chen, right?” 

Her brows rise slightly, it’s hard not to smile back. “Yeah. Aeri right?” 

She seems pleasantly surprised that Bae knows who she is, even though this would technically be their first conversation. “Yeah! You’re friends with Jisung? He’s mentioned you.” 

Bae wonders what conversations those two have that Bae is brought up in them. Considering that she remembers her name, and can even put a face to it, it must be more than once. She hates that she likes this girl already. Already starting off, she’s beautiful. She’s really sweet too. Already she seems to be too good for Jisung. He’s made plenty of awful choices in the past which she likes to make fun of him for, but Aeri clearly is not one of them. 

She nods. “Yeah. You guys did great with this whole event, it looks so cool.” 

Her smile is contagious, it makes Bae want to punch a brick wall. She opts for taking a hard crunch out of the apple Shotaro gave her. 

“Thank you! We’ve been planning this since the summer, I guess it paid off.” She directs her next question to Shotaro. “Have you seen Yuta? I swear he said he was going to help Shohei with the dunk machine but I can’t find him.” 

Yuta? That causes her ears to perk. He never mentioned he was in JUSA to her. Though it probably makes sense. Shotaro glances around the carnival. “Yeah…he came by a few minutes ago. I gave him an apple.” 

Bae realizes she’s lingering too long, so she waves at the two. “Thank you for the apple! I’ll see you at practice, Shotaro.” 

The both of them smile at her as she leaves, which makes her want to slam her head into the concrete pavement underneath her feet. She is so unbelievably pretty, like prettier than whatever she posts on Instagram. And she’s not in a relationship? Instead she’s in some stupid fling with stupid-Park-fucking-Jisung? It makes her sick. 

Maybe some people don’t want relationships. Maybe she’s one of those people. But still, with Jisung?

She reminds herself that now that she’s seen Shotaro, she can technically leave. But Bae remembers that she mentioned Yuta. Part of her wants to find him before she goes back to her place. But that’s too weird, isn’t it? Seeking him out? She’s been trying to play off their thing as pretty nonchalant, and she did see him last night so technically she’s had her “fix”, if she even wants to call it that. But, Bae really likes him. So she tosses her pride aside and continues along the ring of tables. 

JUSA really outdid themselves, she’ll say it again. Aeri must be extremely hard-working and passionate too, especially being in such a high ranked board position. She was able to pull this entire event together. Wow. Such an accomplished person and she’s hooking up with Jisung? 

She spots the dunk tank, where Yuta stands, just like Aeri had mentioned he was supposed to be at. He’s laughing at someone, specifically a somebody who emerges from the dunk tank soaking wet - she feels bad for him (especially in this weather?). He notices her approaching closer a few seconds later and waves light-heartedly. 

“Hey Bae.” She’s so glad she didn’t listen to her inner thoughts and step out in a pair of sweats, her layered outfit actually looks nice today. His eyes travel over her outfit. “You look nice.” 

“Thank you, I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

“I also didn’t think so either.” He shares a laugh with the soaking wet dude next to him, who’s busy drying himself off. “Aeri insisted, so I’m here. Don’t really take you as an extracurricular guy, right?” 

“Everybody has their moments, I would assume.” She responds. “Are you staying here for the entire time?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah. Shohei already got dunked once, so it’s my turn.” 

“You all wet? That’ll be a sight.” 

“I’m sure you’re familiar.” Yuta jokes back. Had it not been for the weather, her cheeks would have been aflame. Even with his friend right next to him, that doesn’t seem to deter him from flirting with her. One of their pillow talks consisted of him asking her to have sex in a campus bathroom, apparently he was into the whole sex-in-public thing. She’s not really there (and isn’t sure if she ever will be) and shot it down. He was mildly disappointed, and said something like he’ll convince her one day. Bae really doubted it.

“I’ll catch you later?” She tells him, then glances at the tank. “Have fun with…that.”

“You sure you don’t want to play?” 

“Yeah.” She grins at him. “Maybe we can play another time.” She waves at the other dude next to him, then takes off. 

And just like clockwork, as she leaves the ring of tables, her phone buzzes. It’s from Yuta.

How does tonight sound? I have a few games in mind.

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5 (coming soon)

[onmymasa22]

I am over the moon grateful to have been able to stay with family during the war. To be a jew anywhere is not simple right now, and its easiest to breathe in a home. And with that i am also really grateful to be If i wrote a book about falling in love with someone i cant have, the last lines would go like this:

You dont need to be angry with people. We have this idea that if someone wrongs ou, you are supposed to rave war. But just because i dont react, doesnt mean that what u did wasok. U r an idiot. I have moved on from that. How i react wont make you more or lessthat what i know u r. All it does is wastes my time. But make no mistake, kust be ause i choose not to respond to u,doesnt mean ur good.

And i told him, as chilly november wind blew, as we sat on the bus stop bench. 11am, a lit cigarette in my hand. I told him that i believed with my whole being that we would meet in a different lifetime. The feeling i got from him was that we knew eachother. An instant connection. He felt like a version of home. I knew that in a past life, we were married. We were so extatically happy together. That couple that disgusts you and simultaniously makes you believe in love. That kind of love. We were lying in bed, and you asked me if i thought we'd love eachother forever. And i promised that id love you for a thousand lifetimes. And here we are now. And i love you, im fulfilling a promise i made, but being with you is not going to happen in this lifetime

Im happiest when im there alone

Im in a mood of smoking weed with friends. Drinking vodka cranberry and watching a stupid movie.

Watch indiana johns something something lost ark... can someone explain to me why its known for being about good versus evil... the nazis are evil, but then the ark goes to the americans which is pretty mediocre... cuz indy wanted it to be something and america put it in the closet.

To everyone whos personality is empathetic but quiet. Where you're not going to post or talk about everyone you feel connected to. Those who fall apart from seeing pictures or images of people you dont eben need to know to feel as awful as anyone else. To those who are seasonally depressed anyway and the war doesn't help. To those who knowone will ever know just how many souls you connect to you because all you need is a voice, a picture, a video and you feel like you know them. To those who conside themselves a leg and the person who we lost an arm, who feel the loss, who understand how weird it is to be sorry for your loss,

I want a degree and then to get a job while looking for my dream job. I want a little apartment outside of the city.

Get a job

Live outside the city

Move in the summer

Get a job and work 4 times a week as a student

Live off of my money, start living my life

Work in rishon for the year- make up the classes

13&13 or 12&12

Weddings and funerals both have a special way of polarising people. You either know them or you dont. You were closer friends versus not so close. I always thought it was weird the feeling people get by being closer to an event, theres a justification that always happens where youre allowed to be extra happy or upset the closer you are. It sounds weird, but i always found the energies at celebrations and tragedies a curiosity. But for the empaths who feel it all but dont talk alot, who only need a video, a picture, a voice, to feel "unjustifiably" affected by a loss in our nation. Where you feel it all but noone says "im so sorry for your loss" cuz why should they. Where you find yourself wishing you knew them cuz then it wouldnt be so weird when you cry, people would just understand. Im gonna tell you: you are normal. Whether you knew the person, and whether you didnt know the person, wherever you are on that spectrum, i am so sorry for your loss.

You know as jews we kind of are a part of one body, and i might be a leg, and a lost person is an arm and i feel

Other girls might have been friends with a bunch of guys. Been really gross with guys. Bikinis on the beach, every night partying, friends and cars. India and sinai. Other girls might miss stuff like that. But do u know what i miss? I miss how i met ur mother marathons. I miss ordering pizza and eating way too much. I miss talking through greys anatomy about great scenes or whats medically correct. I miss going out to buy candy in onesies. I miss the one time drinking and watching the stupidest movie known to man. I slept so good that night. I miss the first time i ever smoked weed. I was in a bad mood, and the weed made me forget, and i stayed in a chill mood that whole night. I miss dancing on the kibbutz, we all secretly glt drunk at 10am and spent the day dancing. I miss the birthday party my pants caught on fire. We were under a bridge and it started raining and we were all soaked and just started dancing our butts off in the pouring rain at 3am. I miss the first day i felt pretty. The day i could look at myself and didnt want to hide in ramat gan. I miss the fireworks when the arab guy kissed me. The first guy i liked kissing me. Wjen he asked for my number. I miss my 21st birthday birthday where i felt so much gdly presence i was floating and gave out flowers at the hospital. I miss my first time in israel meeting the israeli soldiers. My life may not have the same amount of pictures as everyone. I dont care what i wore that day. But i had a spectacular life. Mostly i miss the calm of sitting abd eating pizza and watching tv with friends. Thats what i love the most. Ive had loud obnoxious in your face kind of adventure. Not the same adventure as everyone else. And maybe theure jealous of me- i had a crazy adventurous life. I lived in California knowing noone. I never really had an apartment- its too adulty for me. Its ok that their life seems so great. It isnt. I dint want it. I want my life. My life, with its regrets, is incredible. Its a story of a girl who knew it would get better. And then it did. It was spectacular.

A millionaire businessman needs to go to europe for two weeks. He goes to the bank and says id like to take out a loan for 500 dollars, im going to europe for two weeks. They need collateral so he says heres the key to my new jaguar. Ok, he goes to europe. Comes back two weeks later, back to the bank. He says whats the interest i owe they say 13.50. He gives them the 500 dollars back. He pays them the 13.50. He gets his keys back. The bank says mr businessman, if you're rich enough to have a jaguar, why did you need to take out a loan for 500 dollars? The business guy says where else could i have parked my car in Manhattan for 13.50 for two weeks

I want written on a teeshirt:

You can treat me like crap. You probably wont go up in flames or melt. Youll just have to deal with it in your next reincarnation while im in gan eden. But you are totally welcome to make the wrong decision. Thats you free choice.

I bought a perfume from giorgio armani a year and a half ago, my first time in italy. I wore it everyday and enjoyed smelling fresh- shampoo meets counter cleaner. I loved it so much that this past summer i finished the 80 dollar bottle. For me, perfume and mascara are an everyday thing that helps me feel alive and ready to go out. Before going out, i spray it on, and my favorite compliment is man, u smell good. I havent worn perfume for months. Definitely since the war started, its turned life upside down and i really havent thought about perfume. It seemed so vain. But for my birthday, i got a new bottle of the same lemon counter cleaner perfume, and i sprayed it today,and it just makes me so happy. Happy thati have t been in a while. Its like the perfume makes me feel ok. Like im ok. I can start the day. It just made me fall inlove with myself, and remember when life was just going about the day, hanging out with friends, late night car rides, dinners, sweaters, going to school, thrift shopping, beach days. When i felt ok. This is so important. It was a birthday that i wish i could tell myself the last like 4 birthdays- u will hve a birthday that makes up for all of it. Not because its some blow out birthday,but it actually was my favorite birthday since i was 20 and gave out fowers at the hospital. This birthday was just good. I took it gracefully. I wanted cupcakes and perfume. Guy texted me and that made me feel the best. Some friends wrote on my facebook page, some friends texted me. I just was quietly happy. Guy saying when can we meet up really made my day. I just felt loved by people likd i deserve the best. A guy will comd who deserves me. Who loves everything about me. Who will accept my faults and i can be honest with. Someone who sees me for who i am. Maybe i am someone who affects people around me. Im someone people remember.

Why do people have free choice to be an ass.

[marmutgembil]

Moving out, and lots of hugs (of goodbye ones and hello ones)

(this was originally written on August 30, but I forgot to post it)

Life currently, more or less, according to plan and one by one, my wishes slowly manifest into life.

I felt it in my guts that I will be (finally) in Bali around August or the most late is September, even though I still write in my daily manifestation about how I will found a new job at Bali in July, but my intuation said it's not that soon, but still not gonna be so later.

And I was right! I got a new job offer on some middle-up tier agency, where I would learn A LOT of new things, which is very exciting and I am giddy just thinking about it. (With better pay too!).

But I am not gonna writing about the new job—yet—but rather, on how I thought that this is gonna be another moving out to new city, since I do move out every year, since I was 19.

It is not the same.

Everything changing.

My home base, Bekasi, won't be my homebase soon. No longer would be the city I would reply everytime someone ask where I come from.

The realization that last weekend, is the last final time I lived in my own home in Bekasi, before my parents move to their retirement house.

I reminded myself that no matter how living in Bali near my partner is the ideal, I should live in the moment and savoring every seconds my own live too, like appreciating Bekasi home while it last.

I love our small garden and the old tree that has been there 10 years ago we moved there, undisturbed, despite it doesn't even grow fruits properly for years.

Or the ghosts of other plants that tried so hard to thrive, but alas, none of us has the warm hands to make them grow.

The memories of my guinea pigs that running around, both in the front or back garden, all of them happily munched on the fresh grass that no on bothered to keep it short, ended up being being feasted on by generations of guinea pig pets we had.

There's no part of the that house I dislike, except maybe the basement. But, even with all the ghost and some paranormal activity that sometime occured, the whole space fit perfectly for our needs. It has the right amount of bathrooms and bedrooms, the air flow and how it always feels cooler than the outside, even without turning on the fan.

And then—My sister asked, is this gonna be the last time my title at home is a mere daughter and sister? Soon, whenever I come home, it would be with my husband. How do you react with such question?

Change is the only constant, the only constant is change.

I said a big amount of goodbyes, hugs a lot and took so many pics, and it only means the people I love and that loves me grow bigger, something I was surprised I have, but definitely not complaining at all!

The promises of visitings, the thoughts of invites and coming to the future weddings, the promises to meet up again in the future whenever it's available, I would say those are the things that keep me wanting to continune this life.

And of course, mandatory coffee with my bestfriend of 13 years now.

We had some falling out, periods of us not speaking, small arguments and disagreement, us not agreeing each other's boyfriends, silent judging but still being supportives.

Honestly, I am worried about her, because she never left our town, and still trying to finish her degree. But at the same time, I also feels assured, because no matter I moved out to different cities and job hopping, she is always there, unmoving and unchanging, like your favourite mole.

I gonna miss her a lot.

But then, I've been only here for like, 4 days, but every morning now I feel so at ease. The weights that was always looming over me everyday, is now gone. I breathe easier, no more suffocated, fall asleep far more easier.

He is now no longer ouf of my reach, I can touch, hug, kiss whenever I want to, and I'd be lying if I am not over the clouds right now. Really. The weights I carry is vanished. Is this how everyone that's not in LDR relationship feels? Damn.

But at the same time, I am afraid that this is a temporary happiness, where I am way too happy, something dark will take turns.

The lack of never ending same ruko buildings also helps me a lot. On God, the live of Squidward in Squidward village really not for me, a nature girlie. The lack of green space that hasn't been commercialized, someone should be in jail for that.

I can't wait to see how much growth I would have later!

I watched a Tiktok, where someone said: You can choose any city, but ultimately, it is the city itself chooses you. You can moving in, but if the city doesn't choose you, sooner or later you'll be moving back anyways.

And that is not wrong at all! I am so grateful of my decision to be brave, moving out to different city each year, because all those experience really shaped me as a person, and have interesting back story to tell.

Can't wait to fullfill this era of more adventures too!

[rhythmandstrings]

2022

Here we go again!

1. What did you do in 2022 that you’d never done before?

Paddle the Whanganui River, finish a degree, get Covid, keep plants alive for over a year, knit a sock, hire an employee.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

Nah, still don’t really do those.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yep. One close friend, and one other friend, as well as several acquaintances. Living that early 30s life...

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Nobody close, but several friends lost parents this year.

5. What countries did you visit?

Just around NZ. Hopefully next year, now that the borders are open again!

6. What would you like to have in 2023 that you lacked in 2022?

I’m hoping by the end of the year to have a place of my own. Maybe even one where I’m paying my own mortgage, rather than someone else’s?

7. What dates from 2022 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

Whanganui River, Pukawa trip, Vanessa and Alister’s wedding, Milford Trip, Caitlin’s visit, Rakuira trip, Wellyfest, probably other stuff. Basically all the lovely travel away with friends.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Finishing a degree in Youth Development, definitely! With straight A+s to boot.

9. What was your biggest failure?

I don’t think I had any super major ones this year, which is really nice. Probably some work stuff around people management and communications of responsibilities.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Got Covid after the Milford trip. It was highly shit and I was down for two weeks, and still recovering for a further three months. 0/10, would not recommend.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Travel and rips away with friends. A new tramping pack. Some lovely artwork.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

I don’t know. I always find this question really hard. Most people deserve to be celebrated?

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

I also always find this one hard. A few of our ex-volunteers, Putin, and the general awful that is alt-right assholes.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Food, rent, travel, and the dentist.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Caitlin visiting. Also travel stuff, friends’ wedding, Jenny Mitchell concerts, and Vanessa starting at work

16. What song will always remind you of 2022?

I’m really not sure this year. Maybe Tug of War, by Jenny Mitchell

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? Happier

b) thinner or fatter? Oh, definitely fatter

c) richer or poorer? Richer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Going for walks outside, reaching out to friends

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Buying takeaways

20. How did you spend Christmas?

The usual combination of family and family friends. Lunch at family friends’ place, then an assortment of people over for dinner at my parents’ place.

21. Did you fall in love in 2022?

Nah

22. How many one-night stands?

Technically none, but maybe kind of one.

23. What was your favourite TV program?

Buffy. Binge watched it all for the first time, and can’t believe it took me so long!

24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Not really. I don’t really do hating people, and those that would otherwise fall into the category aren’t worth my brain space.

25. What was the best book you read?

Bonk - the curious coupling of sex and science, by Mary Roach

26. What was your greatest musical discovery?

I feel like I’ve done a lot of listening to new albums from artists I already know and like this year. Maddie Poppe?

27. What did you want and get?

A degree, a bit more free time, several good adventures.

28. What did you want and not get?

Jeans that fit right

29. What was your favourite film of this year?

I haven’t really watched many movies once again. Onward?

30. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Turned 31. Went to work and had dinner with my family.

31. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Sorting out my stuff enough to be a bit further along the house buying journey? I think overall it’s been a pretty solid year for the most part, though.

32. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2022?

Jeans, leggings, t-shirts, and a fair bit of plaid. Comfortable and clean clothes are still my go-to here, and really doesn’t change on a year-to-year basis.

33. What kept you sane?

Music, podcasts, friends, colleagues, monthly supervision sessions, naps.

34. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I don’t think I can even name someone for this one...

35. What political issue stirred you the most?

Probably the war in Ukraine.

36. Who did you miss?

Caitlin remains top of the list. Ireland is very far away.

37. Who was the best new person you met?

Marlene and Udit, I think

38. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2022:

Trusting others’ assumptions about the priority level of different projects is not the same as confirming them with the whole team, and it’s really a lot better to be sure of this sooner, rather than at the last minute.

39. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

“It’s just the way that it goes // sometimes the world feels awful slow // and it’s just the way that it is // we all go fishing, ‘til we’re sick of fish // and it don’t make no sense // we all dream of the green over that fence // but it comforts me to know // that it’s just the way it goes.” - Lucy, Jenny Mitchell

40. How did you spend New Year’s Eve?

Board games, pot luck, spa, and friends down the road at my parents’ place.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part III.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by @ravenclairee​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hello Tumblr peeps. I’ve had another parasomnia episode since I posted last. This time I thought there was a crack in the ceiling above my bed and there were gelatinous things falling through. Such fun! Hope you enjoy this chapter, please let me know what you think, and also if you want to hear more about my night time hallucinations. Have a great day, Saskia

Sandman Masterlist

------------------

You resurface with a nervous energy humming in your bones. You are lying on your side, facing the curtain shrouded window. Thick crusts of sleepy dust have accumulated along your lower lash lines and in the corners of your eyes. You rub them away carefully with an index finger.

A siren wails outside. Your stomach rumbles loudly. Rhythmic ticks emanate from the wristwatch that sits on your bedside table.

There is no doubt that you are awake now.

You exhale shakily, successfully dispelling a single ounce of tension. You immediately feel less anxious, and your following inhales and exhales provide further relief.

That was some dream.

You begin to piece the sections together. Night terror into hallucination, into dream... into whatever the heck that was at the end.

It was a complex beast, but so was your life right now. You were now up to 8 days in a row of these parasomnia episodes. It was getting silly now, you knew this, and you were tired beyond measure, yet you were completely unable to get sustained rest without some kind of subconscious interruption. 

And with your emotions in constant overdrive and showing no signs of letting up, you were certain that they were going to continue for a little bit longer. 

A frustrated huff of air escapes your lips; you know your swirling mind will stop you from getting back to sleep for a while now.

Your thoughts drift back to your mind-conjured images of the beautiful Dream Man with the ethereal voice. He was a whole other breed of night terror. 

You wonder if perhaps you are losing your grip on reality and if a visit to the GP was in order. It was a task for tomorrow though, as there was no way you could make contact in the middle of the night.

You roll onto your back and realise that your lamp is on. You guess you must have fallen asleep again before getting a chance to switch it off after the hallucination part of your night.

You turn another 90 degrees, further towards the warm glow that pervades the space around you. By this point, the energy saving bulb has heated up enough, not only to successfully cast light across your whole mattress but also illuminate the face of the 'Dream Man' who is sitting on the chair across the room.

"Oh fuck!" You exclaim, recoiling away from him.

Your heart rate picks up like a sprinter off the starting blocks.

The man holds his hands up, palms facing you in a show of peace.

His voice rumbles with the same rainstorm-like quality as it did before.

"I will not hurt you. You have my word."  

You're not listening to him in the slightest though. Your chest is pounding painfully and you are worried you may vomit. A stream of consciousness falls from your lips instead.

"You're real. You're fucking real. Fuck! And I'm wearing next to nothing. Fuck!"

You're looking down at your bare legs peeking out from the tousled covers and hastily rearrange them to regain some dignity.

You look back to him and fix him with an accusatory stare.

"You have some serious explaining to do."

"I agree. Where would you like to begin?"

Your eyes drift off to the left as you try and choose.

You know that you should probably start with something like ‘why are you here?’ or ‘how did you get in?’ but all you keep coming back to is the question you utter with trepidation:

“Who are you?”

"In the folklore and legends of your world, I am known as The Sandman, The Oneiromancer. Across the other realms, I go by many names. I am Dream of the Endless, Lord Morpheus, The Shaper of Form, Keeper of the Dreaming, King of Dreams, Ruler of Nightmares and Curator of the collective unconsciousness of the universe."

"Okay, Daenerys Targaryen." You stifle a giggle in response to your joke.

He doesn't react.

"Huh, not into Game of Thrones then? You should look it up. Although I would advise sticking to the books. The series got a bit lost towards the end."

He shifts ever so slightly in the seat, the moss green velvet fabric standing out against his dark clothes. You snap back to the present.

You fidget with the seam of the duvet cover as your cheeks flush with blood. His gaze makes you feel insecure. 

"Sorry. I didn't mean to start babbling like that. I haven't been sleeping well."

“I know. That is precisely why I am here.”

His hands steeple in front of him. He leans forward, blue eyes trained on you intently.

“It has come to my attention that you have become the recipient of a plague of vicious and unrelenting nightmares. I have also seen a drastic change in your sleeping habits, with a concerning decline in the amount of time that you are spending in the Dreaming.”

This was no surprise to you in the slightest.

You had been deferring your bed time to a later and later point in the hope that you could tire yourself out enough to bypass the nightmares and night terrors. But they would always be there within an hour of your head hitting the pillow and would prevent you from getting no more than two hours of sleep at a time.

The Dream Man rises slowly and fluidly from the chair. His expression is tinged with something you cannot interpret.

“I've been observing you for a number of nights now to try and ascertain the cause of your plight. The very idea that this is happening to you as a result of a defect or weakness in the fabric of my realm truly disturbs me. As of yet, I have been unable to pinpoint the exact reason, however I will do everything in my power to ensure my success.”

He’s close to you now, his glacial scent drifts over you like mist rolling off a waterfall. 

“To be unable to sleep is to suffer. I only have to look at you to see that you are suffering and I cannot allow it to continue.”

You know all too well what he is seeing. Your bruised and swollen under-eyes have been the focus of many of the people you have come into recent contact with.

“I don’t know what to say,” you finally speak in a whisper.

“You do not need to say anything, for now you must sleep.”

He turns off your lamp and takes a single step backwards.

“Wait,” you call to him. “I don’t think I can sleep knowing what I now know.”

“You need not worry. I have already selected a dream for you. All you have to do is let it take you.”

“But-.”

“Lie down. Close your eyes.”

You visibly hesitate.

“Do as I say, Y/N.”

You reluctantly recline on your side but do not fulfill his second request.

You gaze at him with glassy, tired eyes.

"I'm afraid."

"They will not come for you, I promise. I will watch over you until morning."

You can't help but believe him.

You re-arrange your pillows and curl into a foetal position.

The Dream Man takes this as a sign that you are ready to sleep, and begins to walk away.

He is wrong.

In your tired delirium, you begin to converse chaotically to his retreating figure.

"You know, I still don’t know what to call you. You said so many names but didn’t tell me which one I was allowed to use."

He turns his head to look back at you.

His reply is a soft intonation that causes shivers to run through your entire body.

“You may call me Morpheus."

-----------------------

"These are the days. These are the strangest of all. These are the nights. These are the darkest to fall."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes author's notes

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Chapter 13/?: Conduit

A treasured day dissolves into yet another moribund nightmare that has him awake for the remainder of the night. Once he’s managed to stop vomiting, he conceives that it was the memory of his brother that did it, or the trip to the memorial stone, or, most likely, both. Either way, he doesn't regret the afternoon into evening spent with Sakura here in the least, even as he scrubs his teeth and tiredly latches onto a cough drop as if his life depends on it to melt the taste out of his mouth.

The lamp works well for his deciphering work, he discovers. More tea helps ease his pounding headache in between bouts of writing, the turpitude of the past slowly easing away much like a high tide recedes from the shoreline, leaving behind bits of broken shells that catch the light of dawn.

Night filters into day as his washing machine completes its wash cycle, and sunlight casts its shine on the cherry blossom tree across the street, radiantly green. He takes one break to peer down at it before laying out his bedding to dry, and then another prior to preparing breakfast, once the appropriate hour has come.

He’s just managed to piece together the word crawl towards the end of the parchment, frowning as he swallows a bite of sencha ochazuke that feels good on his throat, when a raucous banging erupts on his door.

“TEME!” A raspy voice bellows from the landing. “Let’s spar before it gets too hot!”

Sasuke glances at the door, then at his bedding drying on the rack by the closet. He rolls his eyes as he rises to his feet. 

“Give me a minute,” he calls in agreement, eyes lingering on the scroll before he rolls it neatly back up and tucks it away. He then sets what’s left of the bowl of ochazuke in the fridge for later. He neglects to bring his sword this time; the dobe will probably force him to have lunch with him, after, since they both know Sakura’s occupied on Mondays with Ino, and he doesn’t wish to make an extra trip just to drop it off. Simple kunai practice is good from time to time; it keeps him from getting too comfortable using only one weapon.

He does pop a lone cough drop into his mouth prior to leaving. 

It’s blazing outside, but it’s still a solid ten degrees lower than it will be in a few hours, and there’s at least some small semblance of a breeze at their backs. The dobe chatters the entire way to their usual training grounds; apparently Hinata made him try grilled unagi for the first time, and now he’s hooked. 

“We’re thinking of having a grill-out soon! You and Sakura-chan should come over.” Naruto laughs, clapping his hands together as they meander into the clearing. “We could have a fire or somethin’, too.”

“As long as you’re not cooking,” Sasuke agrees, falling into an offensive position and smirking when Naruto squints at him in offense, right eye twitching. His first sweep of his foot, followed by a shove of his knee, sends the dobe skidding across the scant amount of gravel and into the grass. His friend backward somersaults into a standing position, pushing off from the ground into the humid air for a launched aerial assault.

Shadow clones materialize into existence, using the sun’s blinding beams behind them to their advantage, and the onslaught begins.

Another draw eventually emerges in the humid calefaction, kunai clinking in one final stalemate.

Sweat trickles a path down his spine as Sasuke gulps down water, Naruto doing the same a couple of feet away. It feels good on his throat, cooling and mollifying. He should have brought a few more cough drops in his pocket today, considering, but he's assuming he'll get dragged to Ichiraku’s after this anyway. Ramen would feel good, too, though it’s a sweltering day for it.

Sasuke is contemplating whether or not he’ll be assigned a mission this week and a potential trip to the market in the early afternoon when the dobe pipes up.

"Y'know, teme, we should sweeten the pot a little bit.”

Carefully controlled, Sasuke flicks his gaze in his friend’s direction.

The dobe cracks a smile that seems self-satisfied. 

“If you beat me, I'll tell you what happened in Earth."

Sasuke keeps his expression blank and uninterested, studying Naruto’s shit-eating grin, and almost instantly he gathers that there are strings of some kind attached to this offer. 

Still, he would like to know. Logic is often lost on his teammate, but it’s worth a shot.

“...I already beat you once.”

His friend’s grin momentarily morphs into a scowl, blue eyes narrowing.

“We didn’t have an agreement then!” He huffs, sticking out his tongue and folding his arms together.

Sasuke, meanwhile, rolls his eyes, contemplating ahead of his focus flickering back.

"...What's in it for you?"

Naruto's expression eases into something like a sneer.

"Whaddya mean? Do you want an alternative to going drinking or somethin’?” He unfolds his arms and takes another pull from his water in an effort to appear casual, when Sasuke knows he is being anything but. Tch. As if he hasn’t known the idiot long enough to recognize when he’s talking out of his ass. 

“‘...Cause that could be arranged, ya know!" He recites a little too cleanly, as if from memorization.

Suspicions confirmed, Sasuke narrows his eyes, looking off into the tree cover and refusing to take the bait. He’s sure he’ll find out eventually, anyways.

"Wellllllllll. You must not wanna find out what happened, after all. S'too bad, ‘cause Sakura-chan was totally awesome. Guess you'll never know."

Sasuke narrows his eyes further, directly at Naruto now, summoning an expression that will effectively communicate that his patience for this conversation is running thin. A deadlock glare session occurs before Naruto just grins again, which pisses Sasuke off further.

"Y’know…” His raspy voice trails off as he looks at him again in a way Sasuke doesn’t like. 

“...Kakashi-sensei and I are just dying to know what you got Sakura-chan for her birthday. Since you came back the end of March and all."

Sasuke’s eye twitches, a trickle of deeper annoyance siphoning into the corners of his consciousness on someone else’s behalf.

Nosy, indeed. 

"...You're both stupid." Albeit his increasing requiescence around Sakura, Sasuke plainly doesn’t care for the notion of directly vocalizing his feelings to others, which is exactly what explaining said gift would entail. It would make him feel inordinately exposed, he thinks, even to his best friend and teammate. Furthermore, Kakashi doesn’t need to know everything about him. The copy ninja can wonder about it indefinitely for all he cares.

The words don’t have their intended effect; instead, Naruto’s entire face lights up, and though outwardly he betrays nothing, inwardly, Sasuke groans. He’s waltzed right into a trap, giving the idiot some sort of confirmation through his few words that Sakura apparently has not.

“Aha! So you DID give her something!! What is it, what is it?!” The idiot starts shaking his good shoulder, fingers seizing brutally around a nasty splotch of a fresh bruise that encompasses almost the entire curvature of the muscle. “Jewelry? Kakashi-sensei thinks jewelry, but we haven't seen any on her. Flowers, maybe?! Girls love stuff like that!” Sasuke’s brows knit ever closer as his frown sinks deeper, completely unenthused. 

“None of your business, usuratonkachi.” He shoves Naruto away rather forcefully, because A, it actually hurts with the huge expanse of fresh bruise he's gripping onto, and B, the idiot is violating his most cardinal rule with nearly everyone in his life: personal space. He summons his most menacing glare that icily communicates drop it.

“Temeeee,” he laments, folding his arms together and pouting much like he used to when he was a child. “C’mon!! I’ve been bugging Sakura-chan for WEEKS and she hasn’t given an inch. She’s worse than Granny Tsunade when she wants to be.”

A strong surge of appreciation courses through him at Sakura’s consideration for their privacy, the dobe’s apparent pestering of her taking on new meaning. He wouldn’t mind necessarily if she told people about the gift eventually - it’s hers to do whatever she likes with, after all - but for the time being, he’s enjoying what’s between them as it is, the quietude of it. Other people knowing what’s in his heart to that degree would be wholly exorbitant as of yet, uprooting the framework of the small pocket of calm that is his slowness to adjust.

The feeling is shortly followed by Sasuke recalling teasing words spoken in Sakura’s kitchen. 

It’s fun to mess with him.

“...Sounds like your interrogation skills aren’t befitting that of a Hokage,” he drawls slowly, schooling his expression into blank facedness. He briefly considers tacking on some kind of jibe about rank, but decides against it since it could be turned back around on him just as easily.

The idiot surprises him by grabbing for his ear, clearly intending to pull it. Sasuke shoves him off with enough force to send him sprawling a few feet away instead, rising to his feet with a glower.

“You’re no fun!!” Naruto gripes, grumbling as he brushes more dirt off himself before trying to attack Sasuke again. Sasuke sidesteps the fist easily; Naruto’s movements are sloppy as they usually are when he’s whining about something, all bark but no sharpened bite to back it up. He shoves his left foot to sweep both the idiot’s feet out from under him. 

Once the dobe is sprawled out facedown on the ground and grumbling again, Sasuke gathers his things and begins to amble out of the training grounds, using Naruto’s back as the first stepping stone and inordinately pleased with himself for navigating his way effectively out of this conversation.

Naruto stays pouting behind him until Sasuke’s several yards away, so he pauses by the entrance.

“...Are we getting Ichiraku’s or not?”

He doesn’t stop to look behind him to see if the idiot’s coming; the scrambling sound of small rocks scraping against sandals at his back is confirmation enough.

They walk briskly once he’s caught up to him, making their way through hot streets just on the cusp of Konoha noon. They seem generally a little less busy than they usually are; he assumes it’s due to the heat. Trickles of sweat sear their way down his shoulder blades as Naruto whines exasperatedly.

“It’s hot,” he complains, picking at the collar of his shirt as if that’s going to help.

Sasuke nods in assent absentmindedly just so he’ll shut up as they turn the corner to the main stretch of restaurants, Ichiraku’s only a short jaunt away. There’s a sea of food smells attacking his olfactory senses now, and he’s actually worked up a decent appetite, considering his previous nighttime ordeal.

He’s mentally trying to deduce what dish at Ichiraku’s contains the highest number of calories when he blinks in surprise. 

Sakura and Ino have materialized down the road, too far away yet to greet; they must have just finished up with their weekly training. 

Sasuke then briefly curses his good eyesight. 

Sakura is wearing the outfit from the picture when she made Jonin, the one that bares her midriff, covered only by a thin layer of netting. Even from a league away, he’s immediately hyperconscious of it: the way the red fabric drapes over her shoulders, curves across her chest, stopping just at her ribs, and the flipped V shape framing her sternum, extending far enough upwards that a minute portion of her breast bindings show. The transparent portion of the material below the top covers her stomach like a second skin, slender waist sloping gracefully into gently curved hips and skirt stopping right above the middle of creamy thighs.

“SAKURA-CHAN!” Naruto bellows in greeting after Sasuke’s lost in the way the lineament of her thighs slides effortlessly down into feminine legs for a little too long. For once he’s appreciative of Naruto’s general lack of respect for the eardrums of anyone in their immediate vicinity. “AND INO!”

Green eyes perk up and meet Naruto’s with recognition, then his, smile forming on her lips.

Then she’s turning to Ino with a look that screams she’s out for blood.

Sakura yanks something from her ear - an earpiece, he thinks - with one hand as she shoves Ino. It’s not enough of a shove to hurt anyone nearby, but Sasuke thinks she still may not quite know her own strength at the distance it divides them. 

Ino appears unaffected, stumbling slightly only to let loose what can best be described as a cackle, resonating through the intersection in all directions.

“...Never not going to be funny!” Sasuke barely catches the tail end of whatever Ino is wheezing between laughs as Sakura glares her down. Sasuke wonders if Sakura needs to apply more sunscreen - her skin is kind of flushed - as he and Naruto close the gap between themselves and the two. Carefully training his eyes on her face only, he notices now that he’s closer and not as distracted by what she’s wearing that part of her hair is pulled into a braid, arching from the left side of her crown to the right before it blends into the rest of her pink strands. Three small yellow flowers are interwoven into the plait. It suits her, in an innocent sort of way.

As Ino straightens to her full height, clutching her stomach in laughter, Sasuke notices now that her hair is braided, too, miniscule blue flowers interwoven into her own plait, though hers is braided entirely back rather than just a section of it.

Sasuke thinks both hairstyles are somewhat reminiscent of the ones from the festival picture hanging on Sakura’s wall. He recalls clipped flower stems adorning Sakura’s front step, and possibly also from her balcony as he doesn’t recognize these ones. It’s an interesting thing to do with them, to be sure.

“You’re impossible,” Sakura mutters darkly, left eye twitching and purposefully yanking Ino’s hand up rather unceremoniously to press her fingers around the earpiece. They must have been listening to the same thing; perhaps Ino abruptly upped the volume and rattled her eardrum.

“Er, hi, Sakura-chan, Ino!” Naruto greets, voice dripping slightly with confusion at the scene before them, though still overly enthusiastic as always.

“Hey, Naruto,” Sakura responds, still glaring at Ino, though the animosity has mostly dissolved by now. Her expression clears fully prior to turning, briefly making eye contact with Sasuke. “Sasuke-kun.”

“...Sakura.” His gaze flickers to her companion, and he adds politely, “Ino.” 

“Didja just get done with training?” Naruto questions with way too much enthusiasm, stepping closer to the women as Ino brushes herself off. “Me and teme did, too! Bet ya won!"

Sakura’s gaze flits back to Naruto. “Eh. More or less,” she says, smiling now. He's not sure if she's referring to finishing training or whether she was victorious.

“She always does,” Ino sighs, rolling her eyes. “It’s exhausting to have to come up with new tricks all the time.”

Sasuke’s interest is further piqued - there’s an implication there, of new jutsu perhaps - but Naruto charges on, tactless as ever.

“We were just headed to Ichiraku’s, Sakura-chan! You guys should come with us!” Sometimes Naruto really does seem to have the discernment of a child, Sasuke thinks. They probably had plans that didn’t involve a loud-mouthed idiot or ramen on a ninety-five plus degree day.

“Ugh,” Ino complains, examining her cuticles now as if she’s bored, and Sasuke remembers that while Naruto lacks awareness for many social cues, Ino comparatively simply has never cared about them, unerringly blunt and the antithesis of social decorum. “Do we have to? Ramen is too hot for a day like today.”

Naruto looks bewildered, as if it’s the most shocking statement one could make. “Whaddya mean?! Ramen’s great anytime! Besides, other food is served hot, too, so I’m not sure what the big deal is.”

“It’s soup,” Ino intones, shooting Naruto a look that screams unimpressed.

“They’ll have ramune to drink now that it’s summer, at least?” Sakura tries adding helpfully. Ino sighs in a way that seems resigned. 

“I guess. Whatever,” she says flippantly, though it’s without any actual ill will. Ino turns on her heel, taking the earpiece out of her own ear and depositing the completed pair into a duffel bag hanging crossbody on her back.

Naruto cheers and Sasuke blinks, because this overall exchange occurred in only a minute, and he guesses he’s having lunch with his team and Ino now. He still hasn’t been around her for any extended period of time since returning to the village. It won’t be a boring lunch by any means, he supposes.

Sakura shoots him a smile and a shrug before she turns to follow behind the two blondes, leading the way in the general direction of the ramen restaurant.

He very quickly perceives that her outfit from behind is just as distracting as it was from the front, gaze locking briefly on the small of her back and beyond. It doesn’t leave much to his imagination, overactive as it is regarding her, so he makes an effort to take larger strides until he’s walking beside Sakura than trailing after her.

It’s a short walk to Ichiraku’s. Ino kicks her duffel bag beneath the counter nearest the end stool as if she owns the place, turning to Sakura. “Be right back. Order me a ramune? Raspberry.”

Sakura nods. “Sure. Food?”

“Eh, surprise me.”

Sakura dips her chin once again, taking the seat next to where Ino’s placed her things as the blonde woman scampers around the corner. Naruto takes his own seat on the other end of the group, so Sasuke takes the one between Sakura and the dobe. It takes a minute to put in their orders, as the restaurant is somewhat busy, moreso than Sasuke would have expected given the weather and the general traffic on the way here. As they wait for their drinks, Sakura drums her fingers slightly atop the shiny counters, not loud enough to make noise but enough that the motion garners his attention.

He recalls those fingers against the nape of his neck the night previous before looking away. 

“So, Sakura-chan! How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” Naruto asks good-naturedly as Teuchi’s daughter slides their drinks in front of them, icy cold judging from the condensation; mango ramune for the dobe, water for Sasuke, plum ramune for Sakura, and Ino’s requested raspberry ramune. The dobe downs a solid third of his bottle, making an exaggerated, “Ahhh,” and finishing his thought. “Hinata-chan made me try grilled unagi, and that shit is good.”

Verdant eyes, apple green in the sunlight, flick to Sasuke between them before she returns her gaze to her own bottle. 

“I had oyakodon,” she says, skin slightly flushed and lips pursed as if she’s trying to bite back a smile. Something turns over in his chest and burgeons into his throat, soothing the ache there.

“Eh? Was it any good?” The dobe is studying her curiously, as if he’s able to read the subtext of her body language enough to know she’s not strictly referring to food, but not enough to actually gain any intel on what’s in the undercurrent of her words.

Sakura takes a long draw on her drink.

“Probably the best I’ve ever tried,” she murmurs softly as Sasuke’s neck warms in a way that has nothing to do with the sun above them. 

The idiot’s brow creases further as if he’s now more confused. 

“I’m confused,” he echoes Sasuke’s observation of him rather loudly, expression perplexed and looking from Sakura to Sasuke. “Is that, like, code for something?” Their teammate squints at them suspiciously.

Sakura’s blinking and one pink eyebrow is arching as Ino’s voice returns from the direction she left in.

“Code for what?” She asks smoothly, sliding into her saved seat with a glass in hand.

Sasuke’s brow furrows as they all turn the other way, examining the glass in her hand because it looks very much like a hefty shot of alcohol, and it vaguely smells like it, too. 

Ino takes a long drag on her own ramune as Naruto answers.

“‘Having oyakodon’. Is that like a code girls use or something? Hinata-chan has never said anything like that.” Naruto scratches his chin, and Sasuke thinks drolly that all five of his brain cells must be operating at their maximum speed.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s code for magic mountain,” Ino responds without missing a beat, now taking the shot and pouring it into the bottle in front of her.

“Ino,” Sakura seethes suddenly as the blonde covers the mouth of her drink to shake its contents together, though Sasuke gets the sense that the warning has nothing to do with her casual consumption of alcohol. He wonders what magic mountain means; perhaps it’s referring to a location in Konoha, though it could also just be Ino messing with Naruto.

“What’s magic moun-” The idiot’s mouth falls open. “Hey, wait, is that a shot?!” 

Ino Yamanaka’s immediate answer is another sip of her drink. She swallows, setting it in front of her before speaking. 

“Uh, yeah? A double, actually.” She flicks her wrist in the general direction of the small, now empty glass the liquid came in. “What else comes in a glass like this, genius?”

Sakura exhales in what sounds akin to relief, barely perceptible if Sasuke wasn’t hyper aware of everything she does, as Ino looks at Naruto as if to dare him to speak.

The idiot scratches his head. “Uh. Not to be judge-y or anything, but uh. Why are you drinking at this hour?”

Ino snorts.

“Because I'm gonna need it to deal with your pompous father-in-law for the next hour and a half. He already says I live in sin; I might as well be buzzed to boot." She lifts her bottle again in a mock cheer. "But hey! Cheers to the ancient and decrepit. May we all be their peasants until they pass the torch to those more capable.”

Sasuke blinks, vaguely remembering an early childhood a lifetime ago. His father customarily had a grim set to his jaw on a day-to-day basis, but Sasuke recalls it was especially true on Mondays; he always made sure not to speak unless spoken to, those days. The actual full council with the elders met around once a month, if he’s recalling correctly, but the clans met weekly. On those days, his father was even more taciturn than usual. That makes sense, in hindsight, though he makes an effort not to dwell on it.

He hasn't thought about the council in a long time; not since about a year into his journey, now that he's reflecting on it. He hopes that's growth.

The customary weekly meetings of the clans of Konoha must still be scheduled every Monday like clockwork. Hiashi Hyuga would be the oldest clan head in the village now, he supposes, though he has to be getting up there in years. He must be of a similar age to what his own father would be now, with two daughters roughly around Sasuke’s age. It would make the man a little over fifty years, if his estimates are correct.

He’s never met Hiashi Hyuga, but none of what he’d heard in the past speaks to any sort of pleasantness; he finds himself recalling his return, when Naruto mentioned Hinata was no longer the heiress to the Hyuga Clan and was not the least bit upset about it. 

The manner in which Ino spoke is pretty scathing to say in a public place, though. The Hyuga are likely the largest clan in Konoha now, though no one in their immediate vicinity seems to care. Perhaps this Konoha is slightly different from the past Konoha, after all, if Ino can be so insouciant in public without fearing any kind of repercussions from those in power.

He notes as his thoughts drift that both Sakura and Naruto spend a long second looking at Ino as if assessing her, then glance at each other with something comparable to affirmation before small smiles erupt on both of their faces. They return their attention back to their drinks, apparently unbothered, as if Ino speaks like this all the time.

Odd, Sasuke thinks, taking another sip of his own water and chalking it up to just being a part of her personality.

Naruto waves his free hand rapidly as if remembering something mid-swallow, then sets his drink down.

“Wait, so what’s magic mountain mean? Is that like another code for something?”

The set of Sakura’s shoulders changes completely, stiffening and straightening.

“I didn’t mean anything in code; I was talking about actual oyakodon. Ino’s just messing with you-”

“Great question,” Ino declares simultaneously with a fiendish gleam in her eye. She sets her drink down on the counter and begins making gestures with her hands to illustrate her words.

“So you stack your pillows high, right? Like three or four on top of each other. Then the woman lays stomach-down across it, arches her back-”

“Stop. Talking.” Sakura slaps Ino’s hands down just after she begins to use her free one to apparently show the man’s role in this… instance. Sasuke carefully averts his eyes, noting Naruto is aghast on his other side, mouth hanging open in disbelief that she really just did that in a crowded restaurant.

“Geez, it’s from a book, Sakura. I thought you loved those, yet you never take any of my recommendations seriously!” 

“I do take them seriously; I just would prefer not to have x-rated conversations over lunch in public.”

“Have you forgotten that it’s basically my job to be outrageous?” Ino winks before her expression turns miffed again. “And anyways, that implies that there’s a time that you are open to having these conversations, and yet you won’t tell me a single juicy tidbit-”

"Maybe it's because I don't want private matters to be broadcast to the entire village-"

“I’ve gotta convince Hinata-chan to stop hanging out with you guys,” Naruto whines from his other side, finally closing his mouth. Sasuke busies himself with reading all of the flavors of ramune available off the overhead banner and sparing a second moment of appreciation today for Sakura’s care for their privacy. “You’re gonna corrupt her!”

Banana, blueberry, bubblegum, cherry, grape, green apple-

“Ino’s going to corrupt her,” Sakura agrees.

Lychee, mango, orange, peach, plum, raspberry-

“Yeah, yeah, every woman in Konoha is a traditional and demure little flower who only has sex in the missionary position. Give me a break. Variety is the spice of life, losers.” He sees Ino take a long sip from her glass from his peripheral vision. “This is why I love when Karui and Temari are in town. They actually give me something of substance to work with; international politics. I have so much dirt now, you don’t even know.” She looks to Sakura as Sasuke tries to work out what that statement means. “Though Choji and Karui are getting so gross. Did I tell you she’s thinking of moving here? Love makes people weird."

Strawberry, vanilla, watermelon, yuzu.

“I didn’t know that. Are they that serious?” Naruto interjects from the other end of the counter as Sasuke returns his focus to the conversation now that it is apparently centered around a topic that’s relatively normal. Though he isn’t really participating in the dialogue, he can’t deny he’s a little curious. He still doesn’t know who Karui is, and he didn’t realize Ino even knew who the sand delegate was, other than in passing from the Chunin Exams forever ago. 

“Mm-hmm,” Ino says flippantly. “He’s a fool for her. And her cooking. Probably mostly her cooking. They love their spices in Kumo. Suna, too; they both have better food than here. As I said: variety.” She gives a low whistle. “The Akimichis to come are gonna be gorgeous, though, if they have her for a mom.”

So she’s from Kumogakure.

“And prone to black eyes if they cross her,” the dobe says somewhat fearfully. “Her right hook is almost as nasty as yours, Sakura-chan!”

Ino raises an eyebrow as Sasuke tells himself inwardly that he shouldn’t be surprised that Naruto knows her, whoever she is; he knows everyone. 

“No one’s right hook comes anywhere near Forehead’s,” Ino proclaims emphatically. “Nor their left. What are you even talking about? When has she punched you?”

Naruto doesn’t answer, and Sakura simply sips her drink. They both look exasperated and simultaneously pensive for some reason.

“Well, you probably deserved it, anyways,” Ino says, apparently sensing a need for a slight change of subject. It bewilders him when the blonde turns her attention to him. “How are you, Sasuke? Choji still won’t shut up about how fast you can skin a duck one-handed, and Shika says your guys' missions have been going well.” She waves her hand flippantly before adding, “And Sai, obviously.”

Sasuke blinks slowly, a little surprised to have apparently been mentioned in conversations that don’t have anything to do with Naruto or Sakura. Naruto grumbles on his other side, mumbling something about a stupid copy ninja; it seems he’s still miffed that Kakashi hasn’t given Team Seven a mission together yet.

“...They have,” he responds honestly after some thought. 

“Hm,” Ino comments prior to taking another sip of her drink; she’s nearly drunk her way through half the bottle now. “How about things with Sakura? Also going well?”

Sakura shoots Ino a warning glance.

More than well, he thinks.

“...Yes,” he answers. It’s an understatement. 

Ino frowns, brows knitting together as if she was hoping to get more out of him than that. He barely has time to note the flush on Sakura’s cheeks before Naruto snickers on his other side.

“You’re never gonna get anything out of teme,” the dobe laughs. “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

“A brick wall that hogs my best friend,” Ino complains, though her eyes sparkle in Sakura’s direction as she says it and she doesn’t look a bit put off by it. "If I wasn't disgustingly happy for you both, you'd get an earful from me, Sasuke."

Sasuke doesn’t really know how to respond to that - Sakura’s words maybe I like being hogged come to mind - and he’s thankful when their food arrives so he doesn’t have to. He takes a first bite, savoring the feeling of the warm broth on his sore throat.

“Joy,” Ino says, attention redirected to what appears to be gochujang ramen with tofu.

“It’s what Sai always gets,” Sakura explains, twirling noodles around her own chopsticks. “It’s not bad. I’ve had it a couple times.”

The blonde shrugs, then goes about taking a first bite.

“Eh. You’re right,” she comments after she swallows. “Not bad, I guess. He is a nut for tofu.”

Sakura smiles through a bite as Naruto echoes the thought on his other side.

“Yeah, he’s fuckin’ weird about it. Once he brought Kakashi-sensei and I this caramelized pineapple thing with tofu at the Hokage’s Office for lunch. Weirdest thing I’ve ever eaten!”

I doubt that, Sasuke thinks, reaching for his water again and mulling that Naruto is the absolute last person on earth who should be critical of someone else being overly fixated on a specific food item.

“You don’t get to talk about weird food,” Sakura admonishes him from his other side. “You made me try strawberry ramen once.”

Sasuke snorts.

“Strawberry?” Ino asks while wrinkling her nose, clearly appalled as she leans forward to peer at Naruto from two seats down. “What’s wrong with you?”

The dobe frowns. “I thought it would be good!”

“Tell me you didn’t put garlic in it still.” When Naruto doesn’t respond, Ino’s disapproval becomes more palpable. “Or egg.”

Sakura merely shudders slightly before shaking her head, and Ino makes a show of gagging as Naruto pouts.

“Didn’t you just say variety is the spice of life or something?!” He tries to defend, but Ino’s not having it.

“Variety and being completely unhinged are two separate things. And trust me, I would know!”  

The dobe grumbles a bit more as Sasuke thinks to himself that it’s a good thing that, from what he’s been able to gather, the idiot has Hinata cooking for him the majority of the time. 

The sun beats down from overhead as Sakura, Naruto, and Ino proceed to visit back and forth for a bit as Sasuke eats and continues to listen. Ino seems unchanged by the alcohol; she must have a fairly high tolerance, which doesn’t surprise him. The conversation begins to center mostly around work towards the end of the hour. Ino is as loquacious as she’s ever been, and makes a point of asking Naruto about things going on at the Hokage’s Office, decisions on where the next expansions of Konoha’s boundaries will be happening and his opinion on dual citizenship; he assumes that has to do with Choji and the woman from Kumo. That does surprise him a little, because the way she asks him, despite her previous jibes and outspokenness, is fully respectful and laden with the implication that she completely trusts Naruto to be helping Kakashi with these sorts of things. Naruto really has earned everyone’s respect.

“Well,” the blonde says after finishing the last of her own food and reaching for the duffel bag beneath the counter, “I suppose I’d better go shower before this meeting, lest I give Hyuga-sama the ammo to take impeccable grooming off my list of pros.” The way she says Hyuga-sama is dripping with sarcasm; it’s incredibly clear she must loathe him. 

Naruto snorts on his other side, and it’s not the reaction Sasuke expected, given it’s the dobe’s father-in-law, so Sasuke looks to him with furrowed brows.

Maybe not everyone. 

“It was nice to see you, Sasuke,” Ino is saying, and he blinks in mystification, turning back to his right where Ino is scooting off her seat on Sakura’s other side. “You’re as chatty as ever. Quit being a stranger, yeah? We’ll have to drag you along to go swimming with all of us sometime this summer or something.” She neatly polishes off the very last of her drink prior to sliding the empty bottle across the counter. “You, too, Naruto. And Hinata, obviously.”

Sakura looks amused. “You just want more people to beat in the tournament.”

Tournament?

Ino smirks in response, punching Sakura’s shoulder lightly as she admonishes, “Shut up, Forehead. We have a title to uphold, remember?” 

Naruto groans for some reason. Sparing him a glance, Sakura rolls her eyes before grinning and rotating back towards Ino to punch her in return.

"Give 'em hell,” Sakura murmurs simply, voice nothing but encouraging.

Ino responds by flipping her hair behind her with the same self-assurance she’s always had. 

"You know I always do."

Sakura watches Ino with something that looks an awful lot like pride as she disappears down the street. She then returns her attention to her own nearly finished food, shifting atop her stool slightly to cross her legs.

Sasuke promptly realizes that the change in position, coupled with the length of her shorts, puts the freckle on the interior portion of her upper right thigh within plain sight. 

He manages to redirect his gaze away, but only after staring at it for a good three seconds.

XXX

The lily plants are small, still, but growing steadily. He tips lukewarm water over top of each of them with care before continuing his walk home from Sakura’s. 

He’s not quite tired just yet, so he retrieves the remains of his breakfast from the fridge and sets to ending his day the same way it began: eating amidst his notes and pen, piecing out more parts of the scroll by lamplight.

Keys to ciphers, he knows, can often be puzzled out by focusing on apparent groupings of phrases. It’s easy enough to piece together word patterns when you try to separate the onslaught of characters and letters into phrases that seem more akin to the rhythm of common vernacular. Messages in code tend to be shortened slightly, intended to further obfuscate the message, but he’s been stuck on which vowel is which for a while. Other than As and Is easily clued by the shortest words in the selection, the remaining vowels can be difficult to place.

The last phrase in this particular scroll is strange in that it appears to end in some sort of I am statement, followed by a lengthy word. He’s managed a partial translation, he thinks, but it’s still not coming to him: “bjjsccgle” in accordance with what he’s managed thus far is “allsccgle”, but he’s not sure what word would fit. Perhaps he should try to find a dictionary and page through its contents to see if anything comes up. The rest of the message appears to have perfect grammar, so he has no reason to think it’s a misspelling; the style in which the text is written also contributes to that mode of operation, meticulously neat with not a single smudge.

He sighs deeply as he rises to make another round of ochazuke with decaffeinated sencha. If he’s destined to consume words until they become mindless, he might as well eat mindlessly, too. Perhaps tonight he’ll be able to keep it down, should he not be revisited by memories in the forms of nightmares, his brother poking his forehead with two bloody fingers before he coughs up rivers of red and collapses, over and over and over.

It’s macerating, to hear someone take their last breath and choke on it like that. The aftermath of it was somehow worse, though, the sickening crunch of skull hitting the concrete, then the crag of ground at his feet. Sasuke doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to smother the sound of it, nor will he forget the way his brother smiled at him. 

He grits his teeth until he thinks his canines must be ground to dull planes, boiling water even as his vision blurs, because he’s trying to be better.

As he cooks and thinks a mile a minute in his quest for distraction, he latches onto the idea of asking Sakura to have tea again at the shop this Thursday, if he doesn’t have a mission by then. He’s running low on the decaffeinated version especially, with as often as he’s been having it in the evenings while he pores over the scroll.

While he forces his mind to focus on something good - the freckle on Sakura’s thigh, or her fingers at the nape of his neck, threading through his hair - he twists the top of the rice bag into a more or less closed position and stops short.

H-E-B, the logo states at the top of it.

His brow furrows as he freezes, examining it with startling clarity. Then he’s setting it aside and moving back to the scroll. 

Many ciphers are written without punctuation with the intent of clouding the message further. It’s simple enough to piece together where the apostrophes are, even if they’re not actually included within the encoding, as any word that ends in s is suspect. This particular cipher appears to feature s as a direct translation, so that part was easier to piece together. A hyphen, however, is harder to put into place, and would throw the reader off if they don’t know the keyword.

I am allsccgle becomes I am all-sccgle in his notes.

All what? He questions inwardly, staring at it until the whistle of the boiling water pulls him from his rumination. 

He lifts the kettle from the stove top and pours it over his glass to set the tea to brew. As he stirs the rice once, then twice, he frowns. 

The “cc” has to be a vowel repetition, then.

It’s that thought that does it.

All-seeing.

For some reason it makes every hair on his arm stand on end, malefic and ill-intended.

He scrawls it down quickly and scans the source text, glancing occasionally to the rice atop the stove before filling in the remainder of the message, now that he’s got Es, Is, Ns, and Gs down.

Eventually the rice has finished boiling, and he finishes his preparation of the simple meal. Typically Sasuke is not hasty in his food preparation, but he is now, only half-draining the white grain into a bowl prior to pouring the sencha over it and taking it back to his table. He wishes he had his other hand in the sense that he could at least eat with one and continue writing with the other, but he makes do as he always does, barely tasting the food in his distraction.

It’s around midnight, ochazuke long finished, when a familiar twinge at the edge of his stump pulls his frown deeper; the heat and the barometric pressure change that accompanies it is beginning to bother his bad arm again. Possibly his lack of sleep, too.

He sighs, wholly irritated, ahead of rising to shrug off his shirt and grab a towel from the bathroom. He examines the residual limb in the mirror, but it doesn’t look red anywhere. Alternatively, the entirety of his right shoulder is a mess of a purpling bruise, sensitive to the touch. He rolls up the towel dutifully as he heads to the living room to quietly begin his routine of stretches, though he knows from experience it won’t help much: flexor stretch for five minutes with the towel propped beneath his stump, extensor stretch for six, then his shoulder for roughly the same stretch of time. It does somewhat help to detract from the concatenation that is his mind’s racing, at least, though the pull in his bruised shoulder as he moves through each exercise is far from pleasant.

He pops two pain relief pills chased with water before returning to the scroll.

It’s nearly three when he pieces the final bit of the message out, keyword identified and sentences chunked into a final legible message that doesn’t do much to detract from his increasing tension.

pjulocr dnr aboecrs trcbsurc sfgsn nljy bpprnxgkbtcjy bprgj tf tf  tn  fnurs gjjusgnl tcmflgquc vbry jnmbtgnl bs lccoco bjnle rnutc sn jnle bs tfcyrc nmmupgco bt bercco upnl tgkcs ynu wgjj rcmcgvc pbykclt ynu kby iccp wfbt ynu mbl ect bwby wgtf pbykclt wgjj ac pnstco rcebrojcss nd mbpturc bjrcboy stnwco gd ynu tbji cxpcmt rcvnmbtgnl mrbwj jcbos tn rcloczvnus pnglt wgtf pbykclt jnmbtgnl jnni dnr rcmcss rctrgcvc blo dnrect wfbt ynu sbw onuajc mrnssgle wgjj rcsujt gl tfc gldnrkblts cxpgry g bk bjjsccgle

Plunder for badger’s treasure. Shiso only. Approximately April 10th 20th. 800 to 1000 hours. Illusion technique. Vary location as needed along route. So long as they’re occupied at agreed upon times, you will receive payment. You may keep what you can get away with. Payment will be posted regardless of capture; already stowed. If you talk, expect revocation. Crawl leads to rendezvous point with payment location. Look for recess, retrieve, and forget what you saw. Double crossing will result in the informant's expiry. I am all-seeing.

Sasuke’s frown pulls deeper. It sounds awfully familiar, in more ways than one.

The keyword is bamboo.

As it doesn’t necessarily seem like an urgent emergency - all of the bandits are in custody, he knows, and will be for at least the next few weeks, meaning whatever their payment was will be sitting untouched - he resolves to see Kakashi first thing in the morning. He doesn’t typically set an alarm given his tendency to wake up generally when he intends to, but he does this time for just before six. He assumes his old sensei will be in by then.

Sasuke endeavors to clear his mind in the meantime, hoping to be able to sleep for at least a couple of hours. There’s one method as of late that has proven rather effective at aiding him in that regard, so he makes use of it with only a tiny bit of disinclination, closing his eyes and thinking of Sakura and how she gently pulled him back for a sixth kiss tonight prior to his departure.

…And the outfit. He doesn’t notice clothing on other people, but that has been branded into his ocularity all day, even after they’d hung out later and she’d showered and changed, face-framing braid and flowers abandoned for freshly-washed hair imbued with a raspberry scent.

In the crystal clear dream that follows, he’s peeling her clothing off of her as she whispers his name with increasing urgency. He drags the netting over her shoulders, then the shorts down her hips, and presses his lips to the creamy skin by her navel until she squirms, moans soft as silk to his ears. He redirects his attentions to the freckle on her thigh, and then-

He wakes up well in advance of his alarm, blisteringly hot and thinking about flushed skin and wondering the answer to an entirely improper question that's been bothering him since the advent of puberty, coupled with his knowledge of genetics.

He's in over his head, he gathers as he rakes his hand over his face in frustration.

XXX

“Kakashi,” he greets tersely as he steps into the Hokage’s office at six in the morning sharp, scroll and translation notes in lone hand.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi responds. There is no tone of surprise regarding the early hour, despite the fact that it seems they are the only people in the entire building as of yet. The silver-haired ninja’s focus only briefly flicks to what’s in his hand. “It’s early. I take it you’ve finished?”

Sasuke nods as he hands it over. “Keyword is bamboo.”

That statement appears to get his attention. The Hokage meets his gaze and blinks once.

“Curious,” he comments before unrolling Sasuke’s translation and reading through it in a manner that seems methodical. Sasuke lingers, wanting to gauge his sensei’s reaction. There is a very minute widening of Kakashi’s lone visible eye as he reads the concluding statement.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, laying the paper to rest on the desk in front of him, next to the scroll. “How troubling. Though I suppose I can’t say it’s entirely unprecedented.”

Sasuke nods. “The bandits were a diversion, then.”

“It appears so,” Kakashi agrees, peering out the window in a way that seems contemplative.

There is an extensive pause, and then Kakashi’s frowning down at Sasuke’s notes again. 

“I know you didn’t mention anything of the sort, but just to confirm: the bandits didn’t use any illusion techniques, did they?”

“...No.”

Kakashi taps his fingers on his desk, frowning. “Hmm. I thought that perhaps the way we came about that first scroll was too easy, though I suppose we had no choice but to intervene.”

“...Where did this one come from?” Sasuke knows it’s probably confidential, so Kakashi doesn’t have to answer him, but he’s disquisitive nonetheless. 

His old sensei is quiet for a long time, so long that Sasuke suspects he isn’t going to answer. It seems like he’s thinking, or perhaps planning, mentally positioning pieces in possible paths forward.

“...It was discovered by accident,” he finally divulges. “A civilian was harvesting some bamboo for their family’s dinner.” After pausing, Kakashi turns to him. “Allegedly they sliced off a long section of cane, and it fell right out.” He nods his head in the direction of the scroll. There’s a grim frown etched in the shadows of Kakashi’s mask.

So found in bamboo in addition to bamboo being the keyword. 

Something about this is making his skin crawl.

Kakashi sighs eventually, astriction fizzling out of him. 

“Well. I’ll have to discuss this with a few people before we act, but I’m guessing I have an idea of what’s going on, based on our other intel.” His gaze rises to Sasuke. “Expect to have a mission perhaps as soon as this evening; I have a feeling your skills are well-suited to what I have in mind. I’ll summon you once the course is decided.”

Sasuke dips his head in acknowledgement, mind going into planning mode as it always does when he knows a mission is iminent. He turns on his heel to head out the door, stump still aching at his side. 

“And Sasuke,” Kakashi calls just as he’s reached the threshold. 

Sasuke pauses, turning.

His old sensei is smiling at him now, wide and genuine. “Thank you for the translation. Your help is invaluable. I hope everything is going well… Sakura seems very happy.”

Sasuke blinks, slowly nodding once as a diminutive amount of tension eases out of him. He doesn’t say anything more before he departs, quiet footsteps echoing down the empty hallway and atop the stairs.

Sakura works until seven, he knows, and she said last night that she would be heading in a little early today to work on some other things, too - an appointment with a patient and research work. He mulls it over on his walk home in the already broiling air, thinking about an invitation to her office if he's hurting, the pain in his residual limb, and his dwindling supply of tea, in addition to their now null plans for later tonight.

Eventually he arrives at a decision. 

XXX

Sakura’s office is still as meticulously tidy as it was the last time he was here, though there's a stack of papers nearly ten inches high on her desk, followed by a few folders denoting some system of organization, bits of documents and what appears to be overflowing notes sticking out of them. It will work in his favor, he concludes as he strategically situates the iced tea out of sight, sweetened and flavored with the things he's learned she likes. It fits slightly behind the pile while still being far enough away to ensure the documents remain unsullied by any condensation on the outer portion of the cup. Most importantly, it’s placed at an angle that ensures it won’t be discovered until she sits at her desk.

Sasuke takes a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the room with Interlocking Maps, angled in a way in which he can read with the light from her large window, as he doesn’t want to turn the light on and possibly alert her staff that someone is in her office. He also doesn't flare his chakra; it's not an emergency, and he doesn't want to interrupt her day. He's sure she'll notice his presence regardless once enough time passes, and she'll have to come to her office eventually. There's some part of him that still feels a little hesitant in being here despite the pain in his residual limb, though he knows that Sakura means what she says.

Roughly half an hour passes - he’s in the concluding pages of the book - before he hears her voice down the hall, followed shortly by her chakra flaring slightly in what he assumes is acknowledgment. He flares his own in response, hardly enough for any other ninja in the vicinity to notice, marking his page with the faded petal prior to closing the book and setting it on the small corner table.

"Aoi," her voice calls from down the hall, punctuated by the sound of footsteps. "Do you think you could get Room 449 started for me? I need a general update from her, and she’ll need to drink the glucola so in an hour we can draw the blood to test. I’ll head in for the ultrasound in a bit.”

Sasuke blinks. He didn’t know she did ultrasounds.

“Of course, Sakura-san. I’ll get the solution mixed up now,” a female voice responds.

“Thank you,” Sakura’s voice calls, closer now. “I’ll be out in a bit.”

The door to her office swings open and in she steps, donning a white jacket and clutching a clipboard in one arm.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets quietly once she’s closed the door behind her, casting a smile in his direction.

“Sakura,” he murmurs just as softly as she appraises him as if to assess him for injury. She neglects to turn the light on, he notices, likely to ensure they will not be disturbed.

He raises his stump slightly in answer. “...Heat’s bothering it,” he supplies simply, then adds, hesitant, "...If you have time." 

She dips her chin in confirmation, eyes softening as if that’s what she expected. She pulls out the chair next to his slightly at an angle and takes a seat while Sasuke begins to roll his sleeve up to his shoulder in response, baring his stump to her on his left as she sets aside her clipboard.

“How bad?” She questions softly as her fingertips rise to meet his skin and he tries to school his brain into not reflecting on masculine wanderings from the night and early hours. “On a scale of one to ten?”

He reflects briefly, taking stock of the set of his jaw. “...Maybe a six.” It’s close to the truth.

Sakura nods as her fingers begin glowing green, and he exhales slowly in relief, tissue losing tension and ache nearly all at once.

“No redness? Or areas that feel warmer than usual?”

Sasuke shakes his head, carefully controlled and thinking while he works on his words.

“...If there was, I’d tell you,” he offers huskily after he’s mulled it over, voice barely a whisper. 

Brilliant eyes flicker up to his, slightly wide as her lashes skim her cheeks once, then twice. Then her gaze settles, a small smile threading its way to her lips as her focus falls back to the mess of severed muscle she’s working on.

“I’m glad,” she murmurs in equal volume. He thinks she looks very pleased. One of her thumbs makes an arch across his skin that he knows from past experience isn’t quite necessary.

Worth saying, then.

He swallows, forcing his mind fastidiously blank and trying to ignore what even the slightest touch from her does to his pulse. 

“...I’ll likely have a mission assignment today,” Sasuke tells her once he thinks he’s got it under control and she’s finishing up, chakra fading as she begins to rub her fingers in circles, pushing long-lasting relief into the sensitive nerve endings, edge taken off and then some.

Sakura peers up at him, blinking quizzically. 

“...Likely?”

He nods. “Kakashi said he’ll summon me this evening.”

Understanding dawns on her expression.

“Ah.” She smiles, apparently realizing that it will negate the plans they made the evening previous, fingers still arching patterns into his skin. “Thank you for letting me know. Any idea for how long?”

Sasuke frowns, reflecting on the rough number of days the bandit mission took. He's not entirely sure what sort of ground they'll need to cover. 

“...Maybe eight days, if Sai’s with.” 

A thoughtful expression overtakes her face as she continues to massage the underlying tissue. “Sai’s on a mission already,” she says. “Shikamaru, too. Probably won’t be your usual squad.”

His frown sinks further. Perhaps it’ll be a more run-of-the-mill squad then. He briefly pities Kakashi, and to a lesser degree, Naruto, for having to decide who to deploy with him. He’s sure the list of possible candidates isn’t a long one.

“...Longer, then, probably,” he surmises. He doubts there are too many people within Konoha’s ranks who can aid in group travel faster than Sai, other than perhaps Naruto and himself. He’s not keen on using the Rinnegan for that purpose with random ninja he’s not well acquainted with. 

Sakura exhales slowly. “Probably,” she echoes in agreement, releasing his bicep now that she’s finished. 

“If it’s longer…" She looks at him, inquisitive, as her voice trails off, biting her lip in a way that is profoundly distracting.

Then she adds, softly as she pulls his sleeve back into place for him, "...Is there anything else I should look at before you go?” 

Sasuke thinks it over, trying to ascertain if it’s feasible they’ll run into any kind of serious combat on this mission. It’s possible, he supposes, though he’s working with blank spaces in his rationale and scope.

After a brief moment of internal hesitation regarding the ramifications this choice will undoubtedly have in store for him later, he angles his torso differently, shifting his other arm towards her. It would be sensible to get it fixed while he’s here, if she’s offering.

Corrosion.

“...It’s just bruised, but Naruto got my shoulder pretty good,” he responds finally, meeting her eyes with trepidation, because he knows he’s unable to roll up his own main sleeve without doing something wholly undignified like using his teeth. If he was alone, he would simply take his shirt off, but he doesn’t want to do that here for reasons that are obvious. 

How different could it be, really, for her to roll his sleeve up instead of down? 

“Of course,” she says slowly, lips turned skyward sweetly. “I can look at it.” 

There’s a pause in which he simply sits there, waiting, and then he looks away, heat rising up his neck as he attempts to imprison his interior monologue into a metaphorical jar, tightening the lid.

She blinks several times - he can see it out of the corner of his line of sight - before she seems to realize why there is a lack of progress on his part in baring his shoulder. Then her fingers are at his other sleeve, brushing his knuckles in the process.

When he braves a glance, he notes her cheeks are cherry red, and it gives him some reassurance that she’s at the very least not entirely unaffected, either. Her fingers twitch against his, barely noticeable. Then it’s gone in the flicker of an eye, conquered by her professionalism, and she begins the process of shifting dark fabric all the way up his arm.

Turns out, it’s very different.

The air feels unmistakably charged as Sakura’s fingers drag ever so slightly against his skin. He is reminded of the way the strained honey at the tea shop flowed from the dispenser under the weight of gravity, dripping rich gold into a cup of sweetened peach tea and lemon slices.

He rapidly bottles another mental jar, this one containing all of his thoughts regarding removing clothing, and rolls it firmly away into the abyss. She’s careful in her touch even moreso once she gets to the shoulder, brow furrowing with clear concern as the bruise comes into sight. It is a particularly bad one, he supposes, turned fully splotchy purple and blue now, with a sickly yellow lurking at the edges.

Once the sleeve is situated out of the way, she carefully lays her hands atop the curve of his trapezius where it meets his deltoid and presses chakra there, urging the colors of damaged blood vessels back to normalcy along with any remnants of pain. Sasuke very carefully looks anywhere but her, fingers gripping where they’re resting against his thigh.

It feels almost as nice as it does on his stump. She really is good at what she does, to both his benefit and his detriment.

Minutes pass in which he counts the bricks on the wall, memorizing the exact shade of taupe they are painted with. By the time he feels capable of chancing a look again, the color of the skin on his shoulder has returned to its normal shade. 

“There,” she says softly, lifting her fingers, and he’d nearly forgotten that there would be no sort of massage following the healing of a simple bruise, nasty and all-encompassing as it was. She gently tugs the fabric of his sleeve back down his arm, lightly branding invisible fingerprints all the way down the expanse of skin that may as well be sacrosanct to the testosterone heavy part of his brain.

Sasuke exhales slowly in a way he hopes is discreet, profoundly coming to terms with the fact that, based on his jumping pulse alone, he is absolutely, pitifully doomed in this regard.

“Thank you,” he breathes as her hand recedes. 

Sakura smiles up at him like it’s preeminent praise. 

“You’re welcome,” she murmurs, the jade of her eyes dancing briefly before she glances at her clock. He follows her gaze, noting that roughly fifteen minutes have passed, though it felt hours longer to him.

She sighs as she rises from the chair, pushing it into its customary place against the wall; he follows her lead, as he doesn’t want to keep her from her schedule for too long.

“You’ll come by, once you’re back?” She questions, shifting her weight to her other side prior to reaching to collect her clipboard.

He nods, and her smile returns. 

“Good,” she says softly, dimple inking into existence. “Here’s hoping the heat breaks soon.”

He huffs his version of a laugh, knowing it will be at least a few days before they have any such luck, and her grin inches wider. 

There’s a lingering moment where her smile softens into a decidedly different expression, and he blinks, because she’s still just looking at him.

Then she’s rising to her tiptoes. 

Her lips are pressed softly to his right cheek sooner than he can process what’s happening, careful pressure lingering where she can barely reach. She pulls away after scarcely a second, sinking back to her heels with a shy expression. 

“Be safe,” she murmurs, casting one more disarmingly pretty glance in his direction. She turns and heads out the door, shutting it behind her with a soft click.

Sasuke gawks at it, disoriented and vision glued to the threshold as the cadence of Sakura’s footsteps fades down the hallway.

Once he’s completely sure she’s gone, he allows himself to raise his hand, sliding his fingers atop the skin where her lips have just been. Once, then twice, then thrice. 

His cheek feels warm even to his own touch. It’s a minute or two before he manages to let his arm fall away and he departs the way he came, blind to everything save mixed berry redolence.

XXX

The summons arrives as he’s finishing an early dinner, a large portion of pork curry donburi as he contemplates the ending of Interlocking Maps in lamplight. He’s somewhat glad he chose to do his dishes and organize his newly diversified tea cabinet beforehand; it’s apparently a more pressing summons, which means he’ll have little time to pack. 

He’s the first one to arrive in Kakashi’s office, and he’s not entirely sure that’s a good sign regarding this briefing, given he’s going to be assigned to a different squad. It’s rare, but not unheard of for Shinobi to refuse to take a mission. Kakashi is the sort who inspires a lackadaisical sort of devotion, though, so he tries not to let his frown sink too deep right from the get go.

“Sasuke,” his old sensei greets. He doesn’t look a bit concerned, so Sasuke lets his shoulders relax slightly as he nods in greeting. He notes as he comes to stand at his usual spot for briefings, a few feet away from the front of his desk, that a map, the scroll, his notes, and a few other documents of writing are spread before Kakashi; he assumes they must be for whoever is leading this squad.

“The other two are coming,” he mentions cryptically, eye crinkling at the edges, and that gets Sasuke’s attention. 

Two. Not three. 

It doesn’t take long for Naruto’s trademark gait, loud and thundering, to begin echoing up the stairs, though there’s none of the raspy speech that usually accompanies it. Sasuke briefly wonders why he’s so quiet; usually he’s boisterous with both voice and body.

He soon discovers why. Naruto shoulders the door open, chopsticks in one hand and a ludicrously large bowl of what appears to be ramen in his other, frantically chewing.

“Oi!” He mumbles a greeting through a half bite of noodles and what appears to be a sizable chunk of sliced eel prior to swallowing, and Sasuke’s eye twitches, because he knows in an instant that the dobe probably begged Hinata to combine expensive grilled eel with his favorite cheap food of choice. 

Naruto’s blue eyes bug out of his head when he realizes that Sasuke is standing there.

“EH? Teme?!” He looks from Sasuke to Kakashi, then repeats the motion with increasing speed, shoving another bite of whatever’s in the bowl into his mouth - Sasuke recognizes that yes, it is indeed grilled unagi ramen - and sauntering up to Kakashi’s desk. 

He chews thoroughly before he sets the bowl down somewhat gingerly on the edge of the surface, careful not to spill a drop of broth. He then levels their old sensei with a glare and swallows his food. 

“If YOU called me here for fucking guard duty reconnaissance with teme again-” 

Sasuke’s eye twitches again. 

Nosy.

“-Just when my wife has invented the GREATEST food to ever exist-”

Sasuke rolls his eyes.

“I’ll-” The dobe punches the air with his chopsticks as Kakashi smiles, completely unaffected, and really, that’s what cements it for Sasuke, in terms of who their third squad member is going to be. “I’ll-”

Naruto angrily shoves his chopsticks into his bowl again, fishing another ridiculously enormous bite out of his bowl and shoving it into his mouth to chew. 

The dobe swallows, then sighs exasperatedly. “WELL, I don’t know what I’ll do! But I’ll think of something!” Blue eyes flit from one filing cabinet to the next. “I know your stupid books are hidden in here somewhere. I WILL find them if that’s what this is; do you hear me?!”

His hand manipulates the chopsticks into the bowl for another bite, delivering it to his mouth before he picks up the bowl again and drinks some broth. 

Kakashi smiles, completely unmoved.

“Sure.”

A lone blond eyebrow twitches, annoyed, before he comes to stand in relatively the same vicinity as Sasuke. At least the dobe has apparently gathered that he’s not the mission leader. He must usually not be, for the missions he does get; he didn’t even ask about the papers or the scroll. 

Minutes tick by, Naruto chewing noodles and eel and chunks of green onions and wakame, vacillating between sipping and glaring at Kakashi. Sasuke becomes even more sure that his earlier inkling was correct - most ninja are not late without good reason - and sure enough, a lighter step pattern he knows even better than Naruto’s begins echoing up the steps.

Sasuke shares a look with Kakashi that is knowing as an ear-splitting grin erupts on Naruto’s face. 

“Kakashi-sensei!!” The dobe whoops, raising his chopsticks in the air. Sasuke notes he still grips the bowl carefully, not spilling a drop of what Hinata’s made for him. “Really?! Really, really?!?! You’re not fucking with us, right?!”

Kakashi bears the same smile he’s been wearing this entire time. “Really.” 

Even Sasuke can admit that his heart is at least a little warmed.

Sakura pushes the doors to the Hokage Office open a few seconds later, a wide grin on her face; it’s obvious she heard Naruto at least a floor down. 

“Sakura-chaaan! Team Seven reunion mission!! For real this time!” Naruto cheers, shoving another bite of his food into his mouth and chewing with renewed vigor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she supplies, gaze flicking from Naruto to Sasuke before she closes the door behind her and turns to Kakashi. “I was in the lab.”

“Usually that’s my line,” their old sensei says with amusement prior to pushing the small collection of papers to the outer edge of his desk. “...But I suppose I’ll let it slide just this once.” He motions to Naruto’s usual chair as well as the few chairs pushed against the far wall. “It’s probably best you all grab a chair. This is going to involve some map work to understand.”

Sakura nods, proceeding to grab a chair. Sasuke follows suit as Naruto grabs his usual one to pull around to the front of the desk.

Once they’re gathered around, Sakura in the middle, Sasuke on her left, and Naruto, still slurping from his bowl, on her right, Kakashi begins.

“Forewarning that this does get a bit complicated, so feel free to stop me if there’s something you need further clarification on.” He slides the scroll and Sasuke’s notes over the map, which Sasuke can now see depicts roughly the area in which they apprehended the bandits, along with some scrawled notes that look like Kakashi’s handwriting. “This scroll was shared with us by our Land of Rivers allies. A civilian found it within a cane of bamboo near their family’s farm field completely by accident; harvesting some cuts of bamboo for dinner. Essentially it wasn’t meant to be discovered, at least not by us; it’s simply our luck that the civilian reported it and our allies collected it.” 

Kakashi pauses long enough to roll the scroll open to compare it with Sasuke’s notes. 

“What’s significant about this is the timing and locale. We received a report regarding a missing child, a few months back, from the Land of Rivers.” Kakashi points to what must be the rough location, still visible on the map below the other materials, and very near the border of the Land of Fire. “Here, roughly. Now…” His finger trails upwards, to the Land of Fields, and Sasuke frowns. “Here, another child went missing. Roughly the same age, and roughly the same story, though Fields has been less overflowing with their information than Rivers has. A boy, about eight. What they have in common, from what we’ve gathered aside from their age, is that both children were born to civilian parents, but had a solid amount of chakra respectively, and thus good potential to become ninja.” Kakashi points to the town nearest to the disappearance location in the area of the map that denotes the Land of Fields. “This one was from a more populated area - a town rather than the countryside like the other one - but his mother was calling upon an elderly neighbor when it happened, so he was alone at the house. That also happened a few months ago, before the Land of Rivers kid disappeared.”

“There’s been no sign of either of them?” Sakura questions, looking troubled.

Kakashi shakes his head. “No. Nothing.” There’s a brief pause before he continues. “So back to the scroll. Sasuke helpfully finished translating it this morning. His notes correspond as follows: Plunder for badger’s treasure. Shiso only. Approximately April 10th 20th. That’s the first part. We’re working on the assumption that this means something was going to go down April 10th through the 20th. Now previously-” Kakashi leans to open one of the drawers of his desk, procuring another familiar-looking scroll. “Sasuke also translated this one.” 

“Hey! I helped-”

Kakashi throws Naruto a look that causes him to close his mouth, grumble, apparently think better of whatever nonsense he was about to say, and take another bite of his food.

“As I was saying. Not easy by any means, but not nearly as complicated a cipher as the one before you. This one detailed three specific locations that were about to be plundered by bandits, all occurring within that range of time. Stealing valuables of farmers from their houses while they were away trying to sow the fields. Seems simple enough at first, without the context of the second scroll, right? Your basic cut and dry thievery.”

“And nothing to imply that the two scrolls are even related,” Sakura notes, apparently clocking the stylistic differences between the two types of paper.

“Exactly. The newer one’s only become suspicious in retrospect.” Kakashi smiles at her prior to continuing. “So circling back to plunder for badger’s treasure. Based on our intelligence, we believe plunder to be referring to the reward offered to these bandits in exchange for whatever badger’s treasure is, leading us to think that they were not working solely off the motive of stealing cheap valuables from smallfolk, but rather that that was the cherry on top of another promised, more lucrative reward.” The silver-haired ninjai pauses, directing a lengthy glance at Sakura, and when he follows the look, Sasuke sees Sakura seems additionally distraught now, concern painting her face. Naruto, meanwhile, appears to still have gears turning as he tries to follow their old sensei’s logic.

“That’s what I thought at first, too, given the missing children, but I don’t think that’s it,” Kakashi says simply, and the severity of her expression lessens a bit; Sasuke frowns deeper, now reading the implication of her line of thought. “Which brings us to the next portion of this message: illusion technique. Vary location as needed along route. So long as they’re occupied at agreed upon times, you will receive payment. Except here’s the thing. I reread the mission reports, and confirmed with Sasuke, our resident expert in the field on illusion ninjutsu, and none of the bandits used any such techniques. Thus whoever wrote this scroll was the one casting some kind of illusion while said bandits were creating a diversion. Their goal was obviously to focus ninja response in the area on the bandits, and also to lure some of the farmers away from their fields for a bit. I’m working under the assumption, then, that the illusion technique was cast to make something in the fields look like it belongs there when in reality it does not. Obviously that is interesting, because there isn’t a whole lot that one can hide in a freshly tilled field, and furthermore, simple farmers aren’t going to be expelling genjutsu anyways. In addition to that, how many ninja pass directly through fields of crops? Whatever is there, the person behind all this really doesn’t want to be found.”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“So then, you may keep what you can get away with is fairly straightforward. Payment will be posted regardless of capture; already stowed is what is currently in question. Thus far, none but one the bandits have talked. For the lot of them, I’d chalk it up less to any sense of loyalty and more to plain lack of knowledge about what they were actually creating a diversion for in the first place. The one that we did get to talk - one of their leaders - didn’t know much, either; just vague hints about badgers being tricksters and shiso fields, so I’m not quite sure they even knew anything other than the location. And if you talk, expect revocation; also straightforward. Crawl leads to rendezvous point with payment location. But crawl where? Into the homes of the farmers? I doubt it. It’s the look for recess, retrieve, and forget what you saw that cemented it for me.”

“Even to a novice ninja, this agreement sounds sketchy,” Sakura comments, and Kakashi nods immediately. 

“Very true. And all of the bandits in our custody, as well as our allies, seem to be… well.” He smiles. “They’re idiots. Which leads me to a creeping suspicion that said payment doesn’t actually exist.”

“Wait, wait, wait. If they’re dumb,” Naruto says, swirling his chopsticks into his bowl, “Then how were they supposed to translate this scroll in the first place?”

For a moment, Kakashi folds both of his hands in front of him. “That’s simple: barring their leader, the majority of them weren’t meant to translate it. This scroll in itself was insurance, in case the one leader sent to ‘collect’ somehow did manage to find its location.” 

“The location of the ‘plunder’ is a trap designed to eliminate the one who knows the most, so that there’s no trace of whatever it is they’re hiding,” Sakura observes, and their old sensei nods.

“Yes. Insurance. No payment needed until the end anyways; either Konoha or our allies will detain them, and if anyone did manage to escape our grasp, it would be the one who’s the most knowledgeable on the situation and helped to organize the others. In which case… should they be able to even find the ‘plunder’s’ location, they would be swiftly eliminated.”

“Wait. So how did the idiot bandits even know the dates, then?” Naruto asks, looking puzzled as he leans back in his chair.

Kakashi waves his hand. “Different scrolls, copies of the initial one that tipped us off about the bandits in the first place. Those ones were more necessary to deliver, to ensure the diversion was created.”

“Hmm.” The dobe nods his head emphatically, taking another bite.

“So. Back to look for recess, retrieve, and forget what you saw. Double crossing will result in the informant’s expiry. Nice message to lull the reader into a false sense of security, that single crossing will turn out as planned. And then, of course, the ending.”

“I am all-seeing,” Sakura reads, brows furrowing together. She meets Kakashi’s gaze steadily. “Not sure I like that.”

“I’m not, either,” Kakashi murmurs, and Sasuke suddenly thinks the man sounds very tired. “And I’m hoping against hope that this has nothing to do with any sort of business of trying to undo seals, but… Well. You can’t be too careful.” He shrugs - Sasuke thinks in an attempt to lighten the mood - before moving the scroll aside so it’s just the map, Sasuke’s notes, and the few remaining documents.

“So wait,” Naruto blurts. “What’s the mission? Like, what are we doing? Do we know where the kids are?”

“Getting there,” Kakashi admonishes, spreading the documents further out so that the writing is easier to read from their vantage point. “These are a couple reports we’ve had about strange rocks and materials showing up in well water. One from Fire Country, and another from an outlier community in Rivers.”

“Well water,” Sakura echoes, frowning as her green eyes flit amongst the words at the tops of the pages prior to turning focus on the map. Sasuke follows the trajectory and realizes she’s trying to place the locations specified, so he follows suit.

His own brows furrow, because he’s somewhat familiar with the geography of the area from his travels, and he believes he’s now come to the same realization that Kakashi has.

“Badger’s plunder,” Sasuke murmurs, staring at the map as the words he’s translated gain new meaning. 

Badgers are tricksters. It’s a common message in folktales, and their main pastime is... 

“...They were digging tunnels.” 

“Ah, the magic of teamwork. I’m a proud sensei.” Kakashi grins at Sasuke now, before shifting his attention to Sakura. “So the shiso bit…?”

“...A field of freshly tilled dirt will camouflage any tunnel entryways as long as they’re kept small. Shiso will grow dark in color by the time the dirt is more densely packed, following the season’s growth. It’ll camouflage any entrances better,” Sakura supplies.

Ah. 

“The bandits were specifically instructed to mainly hit farmers planting shiso, so they were away from those fields specifically while the areas were barred with genjutsu and they worked on tunnel construction,” Sasuke finishes, looking briefly at Sakura with something like silent approbation. 

“And thus I assume you can see where I’m going with this.” Kakashi tucks his hand beneath his chin, observing years of his own work unfold.

“You want us to investigate the tunnels, fast…” Naruto begins thoughtfully, apparently quicker on the uptake than Sasuke remembers.

“Neutralize any threats, inclusive of the trap. Retrieve the children if they’re there, and then collapse the entire system,” Sakura finishes with a tone of finality.

“Precisely, and within a short time, too; you’re probably going to need several rounds of caffeine pills. No sense in spreading out the devastation on the chance that you’re discovered; once you collapse one, you don’t want to wait too long to do the others, though I’m guessing they probably connect at some point. You can see why Team Seven’s skills would be uniquely suited to this sort of mission. All of your battle capabilities are obviously invaluable should you run into trouble, as well as Sakura’s healing talents, but your other skills should also be especially useful for the main task I have in mind.” Their sensei’s lone visible eye flicks over each of them in order, beginning with Sasuke. “I imagine that snake summonings will be effective in locating the tunnels in the first place, and any sort of knowledge on the terrain is obviously great. Rinnegan transport could be used occasionally, if you know the path before you from Naruto’s clones. You can also destroy any belongings we don't want whoever this is to have without leaving a trace.” His focus moves to Sakura. “You can collapse a tunnel with your pinky.” Lastly, his dark eye lands on Naruto. “And Naruto can transport groups quickly, too, in addition to making hundreds of shadow clones with which to search the premises, and poof them out of existence as you travel behind them, transmitting any intel back to the real Naruto. It’ll be easy enough to disable possible traps preceding the real you with a clone.” The Hokage scans all three of them in order again. “And then once it’s done, you can vacate the immediate area as quickly as you came, then come home the rest of the way normally so it appears as though you’re just returning from a routine mission.” Kakashi begins efficiently rolling up both the scroll and Sasuke’s notes, returning the items to their pile, though he leaves the map open. “I think it will be quite obvious to whoever we’re dealing with here that trying to operate under our nose won’t be tolerated, but there’s no reason to not go about it all with stealth and finesse nevertheless.”

“But where do we search?” Naruto questions, and Sasuke looks on curiously, because he is also wondering that very same question. It’s more than a needle in a haystack, even if he summons all of the smallest snakes he can request Aoda to gather for him at Ryuchi Cave and they only search around fields planted with shiso. They’re talking leagues and leagues of farmland. This sort of mission could take weeks if not months, unless there’s another clue somewhere within the translation.

Something nags at the corner of his mind, and he forcibly yanks it out, glancing at three areas circled in red on the map.

Unless…

“The scroll was found within bamboo, and the keyword is bamboo,” he realizes aloud.

Kakashi smiles like a cat. “It absolutely is. And for whatever reason, I have a feeling you should take badger’s plunder literally. Start with a search for what appears to be an actual badger burrow, in a shiso field, within the line of sight of a bamboo grove.” He folds the map and slides it into Sakura’s hands. “There are three bamboo groves near fields planted with shiso this year, according to my intel. Interesting that it was the same number of bandit hits; I’ve marked them for you. And Sakura: please send a summon once it’s done, and don’t leave the helpless little Genin unattended, will you?”

XXX

He’s the first one to arrive at the gates. They’re leaving tonight, with the hopes of getting on location at the first site before one; night travel will grant them some cover. Sakura gave them three quarters of an hour to gather their things prior to congregating for departure.

“I’ll take care of things while you’re gone. Teamwork, remember?” Kakashi had finally said once Naruto was done cheering in untempered excitement at the prospect of their mission together. Their old sensei had smiled at that in a way that Sasuke felt was primarily directed at Sakura, then at his other teammate; probably assurance that Naruto’s projects and the hospital’s day-to-day will be dealt with in their absence. Perhaps there are a few particularly pressing things the both of them are working on. 

Sasuke will admit that his old sensei makes for a rather astute Hokage, though his eye is still twitching at the sentence involving guard duty reconnaissance. Really, though, Sasuke reflects, this is probably the absolute best excuse for Kakashi to get Naruto off his back about a Team Seven reunion mission, but in actuality it is also remarkably well-suited to their abilities. 

He watches the clouds drifting across the sky as the sun sinks lower in the west from his vantage point leaned up against the gates, trying to gauge how long this mission will take, given his and Naruto’s abilities enable faster travel. They’ve been instructed to move at a normal pace for the first hour outside of the village, and then to make use of Naruto’s Body Flicker Technique and his Rinnegan portals to make it to the first location. It all depends on how quickly they can locate and search the tunnels, Sasuke supposes. Being underground again isn’t something he’s necessarily looking forward to, having spent several years cohabiting tunnel systems while under Orochimaru, but it will at least be a bit cooler beneath the earth, he thinks as a bead of sweat works its way across his shoulder, pulled downwards by gravity.

He’ll admit he’s excited. It will be good to work as a team again. They’ve always had his back; now he’ll have theirs once more. 

Sakura appears down the road just a couple of minutes before their agreed-upon time, mission pack thrown over her shoulders. She’s wearing the midriff outfit again. It’s the one that makes the most sense, given the heat, but he carefully trains his vision on her face only, thinking this mission will become a test of forbearance in that regard.

“Sasuke-kun,” she murmurs in greeting, laughing a little as she gets close enough to speak. “No Naruto yet? He was excited enough that I thought he’d be the first one here.”

Sasuke snorts, rolling his eyes. “...I’m sure we’ll hear him before we see him.”

Sakura chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure we will.” She pauses, scanning the village behind them prior to turning to him again. 

“Was that unagi ramen he had?” She questions, tone sounding somewhat incredulous.

“Pretty sure it was,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes again.

Sakura heaves a sigh, grinning as she folds her arms together. “Bless Hinata’s heart.”

Sasuke nods in agreement. 

There’s a lengthy pause in which Sakura seems like she wants to say something else, but before the words leave her mouth, a baritone is echoing through the streets.

“Sakuraaaaa-chaaaaan! Teme!” 

The dobe blasts into sight down the road, arms extended outwards on either side as he zooms down the gravel in a pose reminiscent to that of a child, weaving to one side of the road and then the other. Sasuke takes the opportunity to glance at Sakura and sees she’s smiling fondly.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything!” The dobe laughs once he’s closer, a megawatt smile on open display as Sasuke’s eye twitches. Naruto then throws an arm each around both Sakura and himself, gripping them closer, and Sasuke promptly begins work on shoving him away halfheartedly while simultaneously realizing the dobe smells more like sweat than he does, despite him being the first one here. 

Gross, Sasuke thinks as he surmises the presumable reason he was the last to arrive.

“Man, this is gonna be so great! Team Seven’s BACK!”

Sakura laughs, seemingly unaffected by the dobe’s insinuation as Naruto struggles to pull Sasuke into their circle and he endeavors to swat him away. Despite her calm outward demeanor, Sasuke can tell she’s just as happy about this particular assignment. She doesn’t push Naruto away at all. 

Conversely, actually, because not only does Sakura embrace their teammate despite his smell, but she also shifts her stance, reaching for Sasuke with a grin to pull him back into the semi-circle. 

The touch feels unsure, even though her outward expression doesn’t seem hesitant at all; merely a light dusting of her fingers at his shoulder, rather than the full-on rowdy hug Naruto tried, as if she’s not totally sure if he’ll let her.

There is a split second where Sasuke recalls a flurry of occasions on which he rebuked such touches from her in their early Genin days, even the times when they were intended to be platonic and within the context of celebratory teamwork, an effort to try to bring the three of them together rather than apart. 

He was such an idiot back then, trying to drive them both away with feigned indifference and irritation. If he had simply let them in, his adolescence could have turned out very differently. Perhaps Itachi’s death and the nauseating crack as he hit rock and concrete, fingers bloody, wouldn’t haunt him like an old house, and they all would have been spared the disaster at the Samurai Bridge, so he wouldn’t have to live with the atrocious knowledge of what it feels like to be the object of Sakura’s fear, what her eyes look like when she’s terrified of him.

He also wouldn’t have made her cry on a dark night, knowing him far too well despite his constant facade of acrimony, not far away from this very spot.

No time like the present.

So Sasuke concedes a step back closer to them, allowing smooth fingertips to guide him into place, though he still keeps the dobe at arm’s length for the sake of his nose. 

The touch at his shoulder grows just a smidgen more confident.

“We sure are,” Sakura agrees, grinning unabashedly now. “It’s good to be back; I haven’t had a mission in a while.”

“HELL yeah! It’s gonna be totally awesome! Those badgers are never gonna stand a chance!” 

At heart, Sasuke agrees.

XXX

They manage to make the first bamboo grove, the one where the second scroll was initially found, just after midnight. Quietly, they begin to poke around the freshly tilled soil. Around five hundred small snakes aid their efforts, scales slithering silent through the dirt in search of entrance to a larger tunnel system. 

“What’s that saying?” Naruto asks a few feet away, examining the edges of the field. “Beetle in a haystack?”

Sasuke snorts before he rolls his eyes, not answering. For all his idiocy, at least the dobe is proceeding forward somewhat quietly for once. No sense in starting a fight with him.

“Needle,” Sakura corrects from farther away, where she’s also crouched, using her hands and occasionally her feet to sift slightly through the dirt in the search.

“Huh?”

“Needle.”

Naruto scratches his chin, smearing dirt all over it. “Wait, why would you lose a needle in a haystack? That has nothing to do with hay.” The sits up, focus withdrawn from a patch of weeds. “And what if the cows accidentally eat it?! Ouch!” He asks as an afterthought in a harsh whisper, looking horrified. 

“It’s just an expression,” Sakura says impatiently. 

“A weird one,” Naruto mutters back as he adjusts his position slightly to the left. 

It’s a few more minutes before one of his snakes returns to him rather insistently, coiling around his left leg where it’s crouched. 

“Over here,” Sasuke calls quietly, giving the silent creature two strokes across the head in thanks. The snake then uncoils itself and slithers through the dirt, about forty yards deep into the field.

“Watch your step,” he instructs Naruto more than Sakura behind him as they come upon where the majority of Aoda’s smaller neighbors are congregating. He doesn’t want the dobe to step on any of them accidentally. They’re circling around what appears to be some simple soil and rock, expertly placed. 

As his teammates come up behind him, Sasuke murmurs a quick word of thanks to the reptiles; they spread to allow him a pathway to where he assumes the hole is, before poofing back to whence they came. He then murmurs a quick, “Kai,” followed suit by Sakura and Naruto behind him. Sure enough, the badger hole is there, inconspicuous even without the genjutsu.

“Y’know, teme, your snakes give me the creepy crawlies, but I gotta admit that was useful. We’da been searching for hours, otherwise.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes again, crouching now to gain a better grasp on the rough width and height of the hole. It’s not much bigger than a typical badger hole; definitely not big enough for a normal-sized person to fit through, though perhaps a child could squeeze by.

Naruto whistles as he gets closer, butting in beside Sasuke. “The fuck? Whoever got in here must be really fucking tiny.”

Sasuke rises, frowning at Naruto prior to taking a step back so the idiot has space to do whatever he’s about to do. When he glances at Sakura, she’s also frowning, dusting dirt off her knees. 

Naruto makes the appropriate hand signs for Shadow Clone Jutsu, several much smaller versions of himself poof into existence beside him, roughly two feet tall. The clones all but dive head first into the tunnel. 

There are several dull thuds, and then a moment of silence. The three of them listen with bated breath; they had assumed based on their intel that the pickup location of the promised reward, or rather, the trap, would not be at the same entrance within sight of where their scroll was found. It would be too easy.

“Yep!” Several voices eventually call up, and Sasuke strains to hear a variety of soft tapping noises as if the clones are sliding hands along the boundaries of the space and kicking in search of pressure release traps or punji sticks. “This is it. No trap at this one that I can tell. Hang on…” 

The real Naruto flurries through hand signs and about twenty additional small scale clones of himself arrive, dropping into the hole one by one. Then, there is the sound of raucous digging.

The dobe rises as both Sasuke and Sakura close in. Sure enough, several small blond heads of hair poke to the surface, scrabbling dirt from the boundaries of the hole to make the entrance wider. It’s soon doubled in size, which is probably big enough for Sakura to squeeze through, and then shortly thereafter triples. 

They slide down one after the other as Naruto’s shadow clones scatter forward into the darkness of the tunnel. Sasuke rises to his feet slowly, trying to gauge where the ceiling of the tunnel is, while simultaneously he hears Naruto rise too fast in the dark and crash his head against the low ceiling.

“Ow!”

Sasuke rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time today as Sakura flips on what must be the flashlight from her own pack. Sasuke situates his own to offer more light. Naruto follows last, grumbling at the low ceiling. 

Sakura fits below it without crouching, he sees, but not by much; the ceiling’s maybe got three inches on her. It’s going to be a long journey for both himself and Naruto, if that’s the case the entire way.

They shine their trio of lights down the tunnel, and Sasuke’s brows furrow, because it appears to go on for miles, as evidenced by all of Naruto’s clones’ footsteps already out of their hearing range. It’s well-constructed, no evidence of leaking dirt anywhere, and reinforced with posts as far as the eye can see.

Sasuke finds the same look of concern painting the faces of his teammates when he spares them a glance before they start the path forward. 

Sasuke activates his Sharingan just in case. 

XXX

They find absolutely nothing for the majority of their trek through the tunnel. 

Preceded by clones, there’s a relative sureness in their exploration of the tunnel system in regards to safety, but all they can really gather is that it’s lengthy and that there’s occasionally spots where the system widens to a larger room and a taller ceiling, deeper underground, before the tunnel narrows and slopes upward again. Naruto puts upwards of five hundred clones to work ahead of them, circling the ceilings and looking for traps to disengage as they travel behind them at a brisk pace. The dobe pulls them along with his Body Flicker Technique for the most of it; it’s more reliable for speed and safe transport given Naruto knows the route ahead from popping a clone out of existence every so often. Sasuke’s Rinnegan portals work if they know the path ahead is fairly straight, but he doesn’t want to waste chakra taking them straight within a dirt wall if the tunnel curves. Every couple of minutes, they have to stop so Sakura can turn behind them and level a chakra-charged fist at various points of the infrastructure to collapse the ground they’ve covered already. There are no branching pathways to be discovered, and no inhabitants to be found; simply mile after mile of earthen pathways to level in their wake, with occasional actual badger tunnels decorating the nullity of the dirt walls and intermixing with the new system.

There’s no furniture in any of the larger rooms, either; no evidence of people inhabiting the area, or even any hiding spots. They mutter a chorus of kais every five minutes of travel or so, but nothing. Just dirt. It doesn’t take long before they’re all covered in it.

It is very apparent that whoever constructed the place, they were confident that it wouldn’t be discovered.

Eventually they reach what appears to be the end of the first tunnel system. Judging by the time they’ve spent traveling thus far, they know they’ve been inching closer to the second location. Another pathway branches off from it, dirt scattered everywhere and no bit of light peeking through that would denote an entryway to the underpass. 

They approach it carefully, as Naruto already knows from a clone’s demise that this is where the trap was. 

It was a bomb, and one large enough to leave a small crater in its wake. Designed to kill whoever entered immediately upon impact, as well as to completely collapse that entrance to the tunnel, effectively closing it off but still leave the remaining system connected to the previous one. 

They take a short break just past it, hydrating and shoving down much-needed food pills and caffeine pills. Sasuke takes two, given he hasn’t been sleeping the best already, and stretches his back, as it’s cramped from crouching near constantly. Naruto deposes a couple of his clones to gain intel on the path forward: no more traps, though apparently there are a few additional larger ‘rooms’.

“I’m going to have you use your Body Flicker Technique again with us to cover the ground faster, though we can’t cover too much with me collapsing everything behind us,” Sakura says to Naruto. “Sasuke-kun, your Rinnegan, too, if the path is straight. I don’t like any of this.”

Inwardly, Sasuke echoes her thoughts. It’s well past sunrise by now, probably closer to noon - there are probably farmers walking on the ground above them, though they can’t hear them - but the system is deep enough that there’s not even a trickle of sunlight. It reminds him a little too much of Orochimaru’s network of hideouts, where it often felt as if the walls were closing in, given the pressure he was under at that time and how many days on end were spent in darkness.

The distance to cover between the second to the third location is longer than the span from the first to the second. Even with Naruto’s Body Flicker and occasionally Sasuke’s Rinnegan portals speeding up the process, they still have to stop far too often for his liking. Sakura’s fists are coated in dirt, and it’s also smeared all over all of their clothing. The dobe’s had some painting his left eyebrow for at least eight miles now. 

They change the flashlight batteries once they flicker out one by one, circumnavigating through three more of the larger rooms over the course of miles.

It’s the fourth one that gives them pause. Naruto walks to roughly the northeastern corner - it’s hard to tell due to being underground this long, though generally Sasuke’s navigation is pretty good - and points out a piece of machinery that juts out of the wall that one of his clones forewarned them about, though he scratches his head as he does so as he, “Hasn’t a fucking clue,” what it is. It’s a flat brown in in exterior finish; someone traveling through the tunnels in a hurry wouldn’t notice it, as the color camouflages it somewhat, apatetic to the dirt walls surrounding them on all sides. It’s also huge, almost Sasuke’s height and at least another five feet wide.

Sasuke runs his hand over it, checking to see if it’s still warm. 

“Not recently used,” he murmurs. Though he’s pretty sure he knows what it is from past experience, frowning in recall of Orochimaru’s labs, he looks to Sakura in question, as she is the mission captain and, more importantly, their resident hospital expert.

Sakura aims her own flashlight upwards as if she knows exactly where the logo will be.

Sure enough, there it is. Hokuetsu Industries, Gen 3 written in white over red, caution symbols, and a control panel.

“It’s a generator,” Sakura confirms quietly. “Hospital grade.”

XXX

All in all, they burn through another two rounds of food pills and caffeine stimulants before they finally trudge out the last hole entrance, roughly ten in the evening of the following day, generator reduced to nothing in the flames of Amaterasu behind them. There was no trace of either of the missing children. 

They’re all exhausted from roughly forty-eight hours of near non-stop travel, running on food pills and stimulants and emerging into a humid mess of a night across treetops. They’ve also utilized a significant chunk of chakra between the three of them. Still, it’s important that they get out of the immediate area as quickly as possible to avoid being seen and leaving any trace of their passing, so immediately following Sakura’s collapsing of the final tunnel, Sasuke and Naruto alternate between their transport abilities. They’re well into the central portion of the Land of Fire now, far away from farmland or border and surrounded by thick forest. They even go a touch further north, to make it appear as though they could simply be returning from an assignment to the Land of Rice or beyond.

“That,” Naruto gripes through a yawn as they begin to make camp, “Was fucking exhausting.” For once, Sasuke doesn’t think he’s complaining too much. Between the two of them, it was much faster than Sai’s birds, but repetitive use takes its toll, and his back is aching from maintaining a stooped position for such an extensive time frame. 

A rabbit emerges cautiously from the bushes as they line the premises in near exactly the same routine they did as Genin; with a well-aimed kunai, Sasuke pins it to a nearby tree mid-hop. Pausing briefly to ensure it’s been killed, he leaves it pinned there as they finish up. Sakura’s working dutifully on some traps at the edges of the perimeter as he finishes his own tasks. Using his Katon, he puts together the smallest amount of fire possible to cook with. 

It’s not a large kill, but it’s fresh. They should all eat at least a little bit of something that’s not food pills tonight, and it’s definitely better than rations.

He’s just started skinning it and has cleaned the first front leg when the dobe conks out a few yards beyond the other side of the fire, having been uncharacteristically quiet for the past five minutes as his eyes drooped. Naruto barely finishes crawling into his sleeping bag before his trademark snoring starts. It’s at least slightly quieter now than when they were kids, Sasuke supposes.

Sakura returns to the center of their camp around the same time, dusting her hands off and rolling a spool of clear trip wire back up prior to stashing it in her pack. She bites her thumb as Sasuke spears the first clean portion of the meat onto a wooden spit, putting it over the fire to start roasting.

A tiny slug appears on her shoulder, greeting softly, “Lady Sakura.” If the summon is surprised by the dirt caked to one of her cheeks, it doesn’t say so.

“Lady Katsuyu,” Sakura says quietly. “Please tell Kakashi-sensei that it’s done, and that we’ve made it out of the immediate area.”

The slug nods just once before poofing out of existence. 

Sakura then sighs, and comes to claim a seat on the ground near him, legs folding criss-cross and pulling out a kunai to help with the skinning and cleaning.

“That was a lot,” she breathes, echoing Naruto’s sentiment from earlier as he pops the joints of both back legs and hands them to her.

“It was,” he agrees, returning his attention to the task in his hand and far away from the netting clinging to her midriff, damp from sweat and humidity.“...Made good time, though.”

“We did,” Sakura agrees, slicing near a leg to peel the remaining bit of skin and fur off like a sock before adding it to the discard pile he’s started. She glances at Naruto briefly, body folded half into his sleeping bag in a position that can’t be comfortable. “Doing the advanced Body Flicker that many times must take a lot out of him. It’s disorienting to travel that way, I’ll admit. Your Rinnegan, too.” She pauses, then adds, “Still. Just like old times, huh?”

Sasuke nods in agreement, taking in her thoughtful expression. Despite the mission being relatively successful, he thinks she’s probably still worried about the missing kids. He is, too.

“...His snoring isn’t as loud anymore.

Sakura laughs a little, then heaves a sigh. 

“No. It’s not, thankfully.” She skins the other leg, chuckling again. “It got worse for a bit, actually; missions when we were sixteen were a horror. Kakashi-sensei used to stick those anti-snoring strips on his nose after he was out for the night.” She shrugs. “They work decently well. I think I still have one or two at the bottom of one of my mission bags, come to think of it. He sleeps lighter now than he used to, though; that might be why.”

Sasuke snorts and Sakura grins at him before she proceeds to clean the two legs she’s cleared of excess. He himself gets the other front limb he’s just finished cleaning on the spit, and rotates the previous one so that the flame can proceed to cook its other side. 

It’s nice to be out here with the both of them, even with the dobe sleeping, nostalgic crickets chirping in woods that look familiar as they recuperate a smidge beneath starlight. He makes the incision into the chest cavity of the rabbit and efficiently begins removing the innards. Sakura had disliked this part when they had begun to take missions outside of the village, he recalls in a moment of nostalgia, though after a few months of missions passed, she had gotten more accustomed to it. It’s somewhat ironic to think about that now, given she moves around body parts regularly as part of her work.

He makes sure to check the liver for spots when he finds it. There are none, thankfully. He’s hunted and prepared quite a few rabbits one-handed over the past couple of years, so it doesn’t take long to slice into the ribs and prepare the rest of the meat. He hands sections of it off to Sakura for cleaning as he slices away the surplus fat and bits.

Pretty soon they’ve finished the job, and have a small amount of meat in total to rotate over the spit. It’s not much to split between three people, but it’ll be good. Perhaps the smell will wake up the dobe; he always did stir at any smell of hot food when they were kids, even from the deepest of sleep.

He rises briefly to move the remains to a bush on the edge of their camp, left for whatever creature finds it. Some people eat the kidneys or livers of rabbits, he knows, but he doesn’t much care for them, and recalls from when they were kids that his teammates don’t like them, either. They’ll make a good snack for whatever animal happens upon them.

They then wash and sanitize their hands with supplies from their packs before resuming seats as far from the fire as the spit length will allow, on the opposite side of their previous spots so that they’re not sitting in any remnant entrails and Sasuke can turn the spit from its as yet untouched end, free of germs. It’s still much too hot, but Sasuke inwardly is just thankful that he’ll soon have a few bites of real food and also that his arm’s not aching again as of yet. He had thought coming out from the tunnel to the higher temperature might cause it to flare up again.

Naruto’s snoring has quieted more, now at their backs. Sasuke alternates between rotating the meal over the fire, the aroma of seared meat drifting into his nose, and taking drags from his canteen a few times before Sakura speaks.

“...Thank you for the iced tea,” she intones softly.

He blinks prior to looking her way, spit still in lone hand. She’s looking at him fondly, a small smile playing at her lips and light from the flame licking its way up her cheek. Her eyes look almost yellow in this lighting.

That smudge of dirt is still there, nearly covering up the freckle. It takes him a second before he remembers to finish what he was doing, turning the meat. There’s a sort of unplaceable tension saturating the air, a pleasant languor with which to stretch the muscles in the mirk. 

“...You’re welcome,” he whispers into the humid forest air, setting down the end of the spit to splash a little water on his thumb.

Her fine pink brows furrow as he reaches towards her cheek. He thinks her face reddens, too, and her eyes definitely widen, following the movement as he swipes the dirt away in a couple of strokes against her cheekbone.

Better, he thinks as he lets his hand linger there.  

He’s just about to pull back when a raspy voice clears its throat behind them.

“Hey, uh… guys?” The dobe questions, yawning halfway through the statement as Sakura flushes further, pupils flitting to where Naruto’s stretching upwards behind them. 

Sasuke drops his hand hastily, gaze rebounding to the small fire to rotate the spit again and hoping that the heat of it disguises the flush that’s creeping up his own neck at having been caught, despite it being entirely innocent.

“Hmm,” Naruto starts with a tone of voice Sasuke already knows he abhors. He sidles up to Sasuke’s other side so he’s within his line of sight and fucking winks at him. 

“Seems like I interrupted something, eh?” The idiot chuckles as Sasuke levels him with his most murderous scowl and uses his foot to shove him away, churlish. He then returns his focus to the meat nearing its completion, refusing to dignify what he said with a response. 

Naruto only laughs louder while somehow still sounding sleepy, sealing his fate, because Sasuke is going to make sure the idiot is eating his share of the rabbit last.

“Oh, man! Teme, your fucking FACE! Just wait until Kakashi-sensei hears about this!”

XXX

The journey back to Konoha is a grueling few days in the heat. They shift into mostly early evening traveling through the night to make use of the slightly lowered temperature, having slept in a bit to recover after that first night of camping in the woods. 

It’s hugely refreshing when the heat breaks in exchange for a quick rainstorm at the tail end of their trip, clysmic, late Saturday night turning into early Sunday morning. The mizzle washes away a minuscule portion of grime from the past few days. They cross through the vaguely brumous to a quenched forest on the other side, humidity finally easing into something more bearable. It would have been nice if it had happened sooner, but Sasuke supposes he’ll take what he can get. 

A dog - he suspects it is one of the Inuzukas’ - howls when they’re a mile off, lazy and echoing atop the whispering of the breeze through the leaves. 

It’s extremely fulfilling to return as part of his original team, Naruto's tendency to get on his nerves aside. He pays close attention to the way each of his steps feel, firm and grounded, as they pass through the gates. 

It’s well beyond two in the morning, but it’s possible Kakashi might still be in his office as of yet, so the three of them make their way to Hokage Tower to report in.

Sakura pauses for a moment once she's opened the door, leading the way. It doesn't take her much time to recover; she's foraying into the room, and as Sasuke trails after both her and Naruto, he sees why.

Shizune, apparently, has returned from wherever she was to assist Kakashi again. It's of interest, given it's so late, though Sasuke wouldn’t put it past their Hokage to have become detrimentally behind on paperwork. She sits across from Kakashi directly at his desk, in a spare chair instead of at Naruto's usual spot. If he didn't know better, he'd say they were having a debriefing rather than working on matters of office maintenance.

"Shizune!!" Naruto greets cheerfully, bounding forward in greeting. “I haven’t seen you in forever!! How long are you back for? Does this mean you’re gonna help Kakashi-sensei with all his paperwork so I don’t have to anymore?!”

"Shizune," his other teammate echoes, more calm and not seeming surprised in the slightest to see her here. Perhaps Sakura has kept in touch with her, wherever she’s been.

The brown haired woman returns his smile, pen in one hand and a document in another. "Sakura, Naruto. It’s good to see you both. And yes, I’ll help a little, while I’m here." Her eyes linger on them before she addresses Sasuke, also, which surprises him given he's never spoken to her outright. "Sasuke."

"Ah," Kakashi drawls. "Welcome back. I thought you three might return tonight." He motions to Shizune and the papers between them. "Shizune just got back this evening, also. We had much to discuss, regarding pursuits in Wind. Lost track of time."

Wind? 

"Yes," Shizune says, twirling the pen in her hand and eyes lingering on Naruto and then Sakura. "Things are going well. Hokage-sama says the same of here." The woman pauses, briefly seeming to take in all of their state of dress, dirty clothes still slightly damp from the brief rain, prior to adding, “I have some things for you, Sakura, from Tsunade-sama, but I’ll get them to you later since you just got back.”

Sakura nods before procuring the documentation and the scroll from her pack to return to Kakashi.

“I’ll have my report in tomorrow,” she murmurs as she hands them over. “But everything went well. No trouble.” She frowns. “No sign of the kids either, though. We did find a generator. Hospital grade.”

Shizune seems befuddled. “A generator?” When Sasuke briefly shifts focus to Kakashi, he seems entirely unsurprised by this information.

Sakura nods in the affirmative in Shizune’s direction, then returns her attention to Kakashi. “Sasuke took care of it.”

“I see. Well, hopefully we’ve nipped whoever it was in the bud.” He smiles beneath the mask, making sure to make eye contact briefly with both Naruto and Sasuke as well before moving his attention back to Sakura. “Your reports are always thorough, so I won’t keep you too long. Thank you all for taking care of this so swiftly and efficiently. I doubt such a quick response would have been possible, otherwise.”

The three of them nod in unison, and Kakashi’s smile shifts wider. 

“Well done, Team Seven. Dismissed.”

Shizune makes no effort to rise and leave with them; whatever’s going on in Wind, they must have additional matters to discuss. Sasuke hopes it’s not anything bad; he’s coming to rather enjoy peacetime.

As the doors close behind them and they begin to make their way down the stairs, Naruto bounds ahead of them. 

“Well, this was pretty much the best mission ever aside from not getting to fight anyone and my back basically being broken from stooping like an old man, but I gotta get home to Hinata-chan; she’s probably kinda worried since I didn’t know when we’d be back.” He turns around to face both of them, angling around the second floor landing briefly and waving. “See you guys later!”

The dobe then flies down the last flight of stairs and out the door as they continue behind him at a slower pace. Sasuke’s not sure where Naruto still has the energy for that, following a mission. He himself is pretty enervated, though more in the sense of his body is fatigued than being tired enough to sleep.

Sakura shakes her head as they make it to the main floor, catching the door in their teammate’s wake just before it closes. When they step outside, Sasuke sees Naruto’s already all the way down the road, blipping out of sight.

“I don’t know where he has the energy, after all that,” Sakura remarks from his right, wearing a bemused expression. 

“...I don’t, either.” They step into the street, taking the main road the short direction east. It seems to him that they’ll walk together until they reach the road that splits in direction to their respective apartments.

“At least the heat has broken, it seems,” she says somewhat conversationally. Sasuke nods, blinking, because he figured she’d be in a hurry to get home, but the pace she’s setting is kind of slow. This is far beyond her normal sleeping hours. At least it’s Sunday; she’ll hopefully still have the day off despite missing the majority of her work week. He frowns, then, because he hopes she doesn’t have too much she’ll have to catch up on. 

“...It has,” he murmurs finally, agreeing. It’s actually kind of nice outside now, faint stars dotting the darkened sky. There’s a hush blanketed over everything this late that’s incredibly calming when paired with the feeling of coming home.

He thinks he can see gears turning behind jade eyes as they amble on in the quiet, desaturated in the small amount of light cast from the occasional streetlight every block corner. The moon is a thin crescent above them, offering little reflected luminescence.

Sakura looks up at him, then, and suddenly her expression has turned both shy and evocatively familiar; he’s pulled disorientedly to childhood, to their Genin days, and the things Sakura would always ask him following the completion of missions.

“I was thinking… Maybe we could do something. If you’re not too tired, that is. Or…” Her voice trails off, set of her mouth shifting as she looks forward.

“...You’re not?” He questions softly, hopefully, as his pulse quickens. 

She shakes her head, flyaway strands of pink hair spreading outward slightly from the distance they’ve just traveled and the breeze. Her gaze is still locked forward. “No, I’m always too wired to sleep after missions that go late like this. I’ll be up for a while,” she divulges softly, barely audible in the slight breeze coupled with the sound of crickets rubbing their wings together.

For some reason, the way in which she speaks catches his attention even more than it usually does, as if something is special about whatever she’s thinking of saying. 

It then occurs to him that she might be expecting him to say no, whatever it is.

“I will be, too,” he admits, in near a rush to get the words out now. It’s the truth, unless he were to… indulge. Though now that he’s thinking of it, he thinks days’ worth of dirt and sweat rinsed by a short rain presumably still doesn’t smell the best. “...I should shower first,” he adds quickly, before questioning quietly, “What were you thinking?”

Her gaze flickers to him hopefully, and he relaxes a little, thinking he’s gotten the message across. He expects her to challenge him to chess, or perhaps to invite him to watch another bad movie on her sofa. 

“It’s nice out,” she observes softly instead, looking briefly to the sky. In the pause that follows, nearing the ever-closer intersection where they’ll part ways, he comes to predict perhaps another short hike to the place in the woods where they stargazed previously, or maybe a trip to the training grounds they sometimes eat at.

“We could…” she begins, gaze traveling to him and then away as her cheeks darken further. “...Have tea on the balcony. If…” 

Her voice tapers off again, and he tries to smother his heart’s rampant pumping through sheer willpower alone. 

“Just… if you want to, that is,” she finishes, a diffident expression painting her face as she shifts her shoulders slightly in a way that seems anxious.

“Yes,” he agrees promptly, barely allowing the pause normally appropriate for wait time, unwilling to give her any doubts of his assent. He further cements it by adding, “I would.”

Her focus shifts back to him, and the unsureness is gone; in its place, a breathtaking smile overtakes her features. Sasuke is, for about the millionth time in his life, struck by the thought that the choices he made when they were younger, driving her and everyone else far away, were incredibly fucking stupid.

“Okay,” she says softly. “I’ll go shower, too, then. You can come over when you’re done.”

He nods, feeling winded in a way that has nothing to do with the fatigue of the miles they covered over the past few days.

It’s difficult for him to quite recall the movements that follow, in retrospect. He knows they make it to the far intersection in an easy, short-lived silence, splitting ways at the library with her heading south and him heading north, and then before he realizes it, he’s at his door already. Stripping off his gear and clothing seems to happen in the blink of an eye, and he’s in the shower. As he scrubs away the grime and sweat, his mind travels to the recent past, a lengthy ablution at an inn just upon returning. It feels a little like that at present, as if something has been dislodged and is in the process of falling away. He breathes in deeply, then exhales, over and over and over until he thinks he’s perhaps carved a foothold. 

Once he’s toweled off, he redresses in simple black clothing as always, though it’s a clean pair. He brushes his teeth, too, though he barely feels the bristles against his gums with how unsteady he is in anticipation. It reminds him of being a passenger on a boat, the changing center of gravity the waves bring as the vessel departs from the relative safety of the shore. 

It feels like he’s about to do something important, he realizes once he’s past the diamond window, now faced with the stairs that ascend upwards to her doorway and sea of thriving plants. 

It’s just her room, he scolds himself inwardly, inhaling deeply and exhaling with his lone hand on the doorknob prior to letting himself in.

“Sakura,” he calls quietly in greeting into an apartment lit by only one lamp instead of its customary three; the one in the living room is scattering soft golden light across the light wood.

A damp head of pink hair pokes out from the kitchen area as he shifts his sandals onto the rug. 

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets, eyes swimming with affection. “I’m almost done heating the water. Is Earl Gray okay?”

He nods, making his way nearer the kitchen and not adding anything further; she knows how he takes his tea. Her small form disappears back to the kitchen, and he stands in the space at its edge, the precipice between it and her living room, nerves choosing now to begin eating him alive.

He absently looks out her dining table window, but it doesn't help; he sees now, hyperaware in a way that he wasn’t on the walk here, that the lights are off in all of the windows of the surrounding buildings. Not a soul is up, and there is almost no light outside, given the waning moon. He feels timid, alone with her in her apartment this late at night after all of her neighbors have gone to bed. Sasuke has often sought the comfort of being a creature of routine, having found over the years that it helps to ground him, a cautious way of coping. This is new territory. 

It’s just her room, he thinks again as he watches Sakura shuffle around her kitchen in clean lounge clothes, pouring coconut milk cream and sugar into her own mug of Earl Gray. He knows this is entirely innocent, but his neck warms all the same.

She passes his mug to him once it’s ready, smiling and smelling of mixed berry soap, and then turns the corner, heading down the hallway to her room. He shadows her tentatively, struggling to swat down the nervousness in his ribs; it feels like a wolf’s mouth has opened up there to consume him.

Three things become conspicuous to him as Sakura shoulders her bedroom door open and the internal snarling quiets.

One: it is so utterly, predictably Sakura to paint the walls of her bedroom the exact same color as her front door. He should have known; hadn’t he recently speculated that she wears her heart on her sleeve? The mid-tone sage green coats the interior, calming as ever. He finds he likes the color here even moreso than he likes it as the adorning color of her door. 

Two: the general layout of the room is simple, organized pragmatically as he’d expected. There is a closet to the left, and white furniture that looks aged: a white dresser, several small shelves mounted on the wall, as well as a small vanity with a chair towards the corner, just to the left of what must be the balcony doors.

Three: the ability to breathe has vacated his body, and it is not just her room. 

He's overcome by such a sudden surge of affection and devotion for her that he almost can't see straight, tempestuousness of something else, something profoundly deep-seated and absolute, arching into his throat from where it’s been aching to grow for the better portion of eight years, weighted down by blood and tragedy. He has to blink to clear his eyes and snatch his lower lip with his teeth before it trembles in full.

The uchiwa fan sits there, not at all stored away in a box, but instead on salient display, carefully balanced atop a traditional-looking stand she must have found for it.

It looks like it belongs there.

He had worried for months, prior to returning and giving it to her, tracing the place where her name was engraved and the empty space above it, that it wasn’t right; that it was an entirely impractical gift, too teeming with history and unfair to saddle her with.

To have it displayed so prominently signifies that it is of grand importance to her. A comb of a similar color - it’s hard to tell in the low light - lies on the opposite far side of the furniture's surface, and he knows instantaneously that it means the fan is in view always when she sits there, that she gazes at it every time she brushes her hair.

It thus dawns on him why their team photo appeared in her living room, the second time he'd been over. He bites his lip back again.

Oh.

I'll treasure it. Always, she'd said, and she'd meant it. He hadn't doubted the truth of her words by any means - he knows that Sakura means what she says, and always has - but seeing the evidence and action of it is acutely saccharine. He knows what that photo means to all of them, so for her to replace it with his gift for her is…

It's tremendously difficult for him to focus on anything else in the room after that, but he does try, because if he doesn’t, the blur in his eyes is going to escalate. 

The far wall has a single window, along with the balcony's sliding glass door; both are covered with gauzy white curtains, thick enough to offer privacy but thin enough to allow a little light in during the daylight hours. Her bed is to the right, framed by white end tables and small lamps; a book sits atop the one on the right side. 

He notes her bed is large, big enough for two people and overlaid with a textured lavender comforter.

For now. The words echo at the edge of the ossuaries that are his memories.

He looks away from it after that realization. 

Sakura crosses the room and shifts the curtains out of the way of the balcony sliding door. As she opens it, she casts jade eyes back at him, smiling, so beautiful; he can barely make out the curve of it against the edge of her cheek in the dark. 

Sasuke follows.

Her vast array of potted plants line the balcony on all sides, daisies and azalea and others he’s too distracted to identify, though he notes there’s also a bird feeder in the left rear corner closest to the building. The greenery encloses the railing nearly entirely all the way around, overgrown in full now that summer has arrived. This doesn’t affect the view when standing, but he realizes that if someone were to sit down, it would effectively block the light from the streetlights on the corner, eliminating light pollution to view the sky unencumbered. There’s scarcely enough room for two people to sit with some leverage to stretch their legs forward.

Sakura picks up two sizable outdoor cushions propped against the building and lays them out, then sits down on the right side. Placing her own tea on the concrete next to her, she holds her hand up to take his mug, offering him a small smile, one that he also thinks looks a little nervous. 

He hands it to her and wordlessly takes the cushion next to her, submerging into a desaturated world of celadon and viridian, the smell of raspberries and verdure cocooning them both. It's closer than they usually sit, but he’s more than okay with it at the present.

Sakura casts a pleased smile his way, handing his mug back ahead of a sip from her own, eyes turning upward.

He’s too out of sorts to drink something right now, so he sets down the mug in favor of following her gaze, and normally he would enjoy this as its own dedicated activity, but he's still reeling in the grandest way from seeing the fan displayed in her room, as if it's something of great pride, a treasure. 

She really loves it, he realizes.

And…

She’s already looking at him when his gaze floats back down to her of its own accord, as if drawn like a magnet.

She wants to say something, he thinks in the pause. She flushes a little, but maintains eye contact. 

"It’s good to be home," she breathes finally. Her eyes are so lovely, even with no light, alive and looking at him with adoration. 

I’ll treasure it. Always.

"...It is," He agrees quietly, voice thick, before leaning in. 

They share a kiss under constellations rolled atop burnished and blackened silk, his hand rising to her cheek. He thinks he likes this particular activity better than looking at them, though he finds himself remembering his first night back in the village, observing the stars and how he thought they appeared the same as everywhere else.

He was wrong, he understands as her hand traces its way up his nape and into his hair. They are better here with her on her balcony than anywhere he's traveled.

When they part for air, he stares at her unabashedly, admiring her and trying to steel his resolve, as he has never done what he’s about to do and has no concept, really, of how to go about it correctly; he just knows that he wants to, and if he doesn’t, his chest is surely going to combust under the sovereign pressure of it, the sensation of words he’s long swallowed trying to fight their way out. Sakura’s cheeks darken further under his continued gaze, and he wonders unbidden if she’s thought about kissing him more than chastely. Women must think about this sort of thing, too, right?

Her fingers dwell in place, leaving fingerprints against his occipital. But no, not really. Any occasion she touches him, it’s never been about that. 

It’s been his heart she’s touching, every time.

Her eyes, trusting, flicker briefly to his mouth, her own lips parted, and that’s what sparks him into action. 

He slots his lips to hers anew. There’s a bit more pressure this go-around; he’s still gentle, but more assertive, aspiring to summon the confidence he lacks. Sakura exhales a little through her nose, fingers finding further purchase at his nape.

He keeps it chaste for a second longer as his heart threatens to crack out of his sternum.

Then, he hesitantly opens his mouth a little against hers, tongue probing her bottom lip gently as his thumb swipes against the freckle atop her cheek.

Her lip arches upwards after only a millisecond of delay, akin to ages according to his frayed nerves, tongue meeting his, yearning reciprocated with clearly equal intensity and shyness. The degree to which it affects him physically throws him; his heart doubles its previous pace, which is a feat, and his neck burns, too, as if he really has burst into flame. It’s more sensual than their other kisses, tender and much better than he’d imagined. She tastes like her cup of tea, novitious, mellifluous fruit and rind and malty dashed with coconut milk creamer and bergamot.

Their noses bump together, because the angle isn’t quite right for this type of kissing. Parting for a breath, Sasuke angles her cheek a little more intuitively, still careful and without enough push that she could pull away if she wanted to. 

She doesn’t, though. Their tongues meet fully this time, and he begins to burn in a different way, because this kiss is incandescent, intimate, much like the ones he shares with her in dreams he’ll never admit to anyone he has, the ones where he wakes up panting with the compulsion to kiss her, down, down, until she cries out. It’s passionate yet gentle all at once, but principally, it is all-consuming. He knows in an instant, the thought fleeting as he has more important things to consider at the present, that this will only serve to add fuel to the fire, ensorcelling him into a dire appetence for more.

The pressure at his nape increases as Sakura pulls him closer, tongue dancing fervidly against his, boldly venturing a little further into his mouth before drawing back. He involuntarily makes a low noise in his throat, and she grips him tighter for it, pulling him to her again, fingers threading through his hair as if she can’t get enough.

They’re both out of breath when they finally part for oxygen. Sakura’s pupils are blown so wide that there’s hardly a speck of grayed out green to be found in them, and even soaked in scant silver light - he briefly praises his good eyesight - it’s clear that she’s wearing a lambent blush that rivals even the richest of rutilant reds, highly contrasting against closed daisies and flushed azaleas.

The stars and his brother’s eyes lend him some confidence, he learns as he leans down again for more, nose nuzzling hers briefly before their lips reconvene. 

Sakura exhales breathily, and it’s incipiency, lashes fluttering, so close he can feel their whisper against his own cheek. He moves to slide his fingers through her hair, weaving through silken pink still slightly damp. Her breath hitches at the touch, and that is something else entirely, a sonance that seems to reverberate down the catacombs of his spine through her fingers at his atlas as she nips at his lower lip from a new angle. It feels like something in him is unraveling, her tongue tugging snared knots from a red thread cordiform.

He leans down again and again, until they’re not parting at all, really, dizzily sharing each breath and something adamantine that he knows he feels but is afraid to put into words. 

The tea sits beside them, long since cooled and almost entirely untouched, even when the barest hint of the dawning begins to augment across the horizon. 

They are too busy kissing to care.

[sakura-ame-no-ai]

"bring a jacket next time."

pairings: tetsurou kuroo x reader

genre: fluff

notes: in japan, their way of checking the time is much different than america. they use 24-hour clocks. so if it was 1 in the afternoon, it would be counted as 13:00 for them.

a/n: it felt like some special holiday for me today and i don't know why... but seriously, how is my last kenma fanfic getting so much love istg- anyways, enjoy this fanfiction! i couldn't think of a good title for this on... :sob:

you sneeze suddenly when a gust of wind blows against your legs. it is indeed cold outside, but the shriveled leaves scraping their way down the street makes it seem much colder.

"why does it have to be so cold on a beautiful night like this..," you mutter to yourself, wrapping yourself with your arms.

too bad you didn't contemplate on bringing a jacket with you before bursting through the door with kuroo calling behind you.

well, now you feel a little guilty remembering that you lied to kuroo that you were going to buy some snacks at a nearby konbini. in reality, you just want to spend most of the night searching for some shooting stars.

you make a brief trip to the park, to which you find everything abandoned. that one big red slide that you always see children fighting to have their turn on is now empty and lonely. the swings seem motionless, too. however, they still rock back and forth every now and then when a chilly breeze rushes by. the seesaw is tilted down at an angle, making one side touch the ground full of woodchips.

you search for that favorite brown bench that has legs made out of an elegant black metal of some sort. soon, you discover it sitting under a big maple tree silently. it faces a metal fence that is as high as your waist, which a beautiful view of a huge lake stretches out on the other side of that fence. you don't hesitate to plop down and make yourself comfy on the bench, admiring the wavy reflection of the glittering stars and moon on the water's surface.

you could stare at such a view all day...

well, you would if you had brought a jacket though.

the cold night air wraps around you, trying to embrace you in a friendly way, but all it does is make you shiver and lift your feet onto the bench. you hug your knees and bury your mouth and nose inside your arms and knees, cursing to yourself about why you were stupid enough to not bring some warm clothing before setting out.

"just like i thought," a voice that sounds very familiar booms out from behind you, making you flinch.

you turn your head around to see a bedhair walk up to you with a cheeky grin.

"tetsu?!" you squeal, a little shocked that he actually know exactly where you were. "how did you know i'm here?"

kuroo is bundled up in a scarf and his nekoma jacket. he also has a thick piece of folded cloth draped over his right arm, making you assume that it's probably a blanket.

"i've never seen you that eager to do some shopping at the konbini, kitten," he replies, taking a seat next to you.

"you've always been a fan of sceneries outside, so that gave me an idea."

you give him a look of amazement, awed by the fact that he knows you very well like you're his child or something. however, it isn't long before kuroo bonks you on the head.

"you little rascal~ why didn't you bring a coat? it's like below 25 degrees celsius, and here you are, hanging out at the park, short-sleeved, and without a jacket or coat."

you whimper at his remarks.

"well, you know i was excited, tetsu..," you pout, puffing your cheeks out.

he chuckles, "nobody was blaming you, ok?"

kuroo takes a moment to peel off his nekoma jacket and place it over your shoulders. you gratefully hug it over your shoulders. other than the fact that it smells strongly of that lavender body soap you gave him, the jacket felt warm from kuroo's body heat, making you feel safe.

an unintentional smile slips onto your lips and you readjust your gaze to the sky.

"say... do you think there will be any shooting stars tonight?"

kuroo lifts a brow before fixing his gaze at the sky as well.

"oya? hunting for shooting stars?"

you nod eagerly, continuing to look up attentively.

"mhm! you told me that it's shooting star season!"

the branches of the maple tree above you sway gently, swishing its leaves together to create gentle rustling sounds.

kuroo smiles and points towards one of the stars.

"do you know how stars are formed, n/n?" he asks you, his finger directing your gaze towards the appointed star.

you squint to make a more intricate observation of the star while racking your brain, trying to remember your astrology lessons at school.

"well... don't stars form from accumulated gas and dust in space?" you finally conclude, remembering one fact your teacher has emphasized back then.

kuroo nods happily.

"yep. stars form when the gravity of the dust and air collapse together, which makes them heat up out of pressure."

he continues to ramble on about how stars mostly contain hydrogen and helium, the lightest elements to exist in the universe, and how stars are, in reality, exploding balls of gas.

you listen patiently as he explains. you are always interested in his nerdy science talk, as well as the way he is invested in his own world when a discussion related to a scientific topic arises.

it takes him a little bit to finish his explanation with a sneeze.

of course, he's not wearing his jacket. that's why.

you take off the jacket you were wearing and hand it to him.

"you're gonna catch a cold, so take your jacket back."

however, he pushes it back into your chest.

"no, kitten. you have it. i'm worried about you more."

you begin to pout, angry that he's always caring for your health instead of his own.

"no, kuroo," you say with an upset look. "this is not my jacket."

you two begin fighting about who should wear kuroo's jacket, exaggerating the possibilities of not wearing one and lecturing one another.

"that's it," kuroo sighs, looking troubled.

at first, you are confused by his words.

"what do you m-"

it was at this moment that kuroo covers the blanket that you forgot he had brought onto his back and then trapping you inside his arms, wrapping your body inside the blanket.

"there, now we're both warm," he smirks.

you take a while to understand the situation you're currently in before blushing madly. you look up at him, only to see that usual proud smirk on his face. he obviously did this on purpose.

"tetsu?! what the actual hell?!" you scream.

"oya? anything wrong?" he asks a little too 'innocently', pissing you off.

you growl back, "of course, you dumbass! people might see us and take this to like a million different wrong directions!"

"kitten, it's almost half-past 23:00. it's really unlikely that we'll be seen since most people are asleep."

you can't counter back, because that sly cat is right. most people are asleep at this time, so it's highly unlikely that you'd get caught like this with kuroo.

you have no idea how to react, so you decide to lean your back against kuroo, resting your head on his chest. at least, you realize that you feel much warmer than wearing his jacket. in the end, you start to relax, paying closer attention to the steady rise and fall of his chest while he breathes.

"do you ever see stars as memories when you look at them?" you ask kuroo, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze.

"sometimes," he smiles, looks at one of the stars.

"like that one near that giant cloud reminds me of when i stole your meat from your lunchbox."

you cough.

"do you think this is a great time to bring this up??"

he only smirks at you. "you asked if i get reminded of anything when i look at a star."

you pout a little and fix your eyes to another star and point your finger towards it.

"well, this one reminds me of when yaku beat your ass for stealing meat from my lunchbox."

you two begin talking back and forth, saying which star represented which memory, laughing about the old days, and fighting about various things, like who should've gotten to eat that scrumptious piece of steak.

as you come back to argue about the lunchbox situation again, a white streak catches your eyes, snapping your attention back to the sky.

"look, tetsu! shooting stars!" you exclaim.

what kuroo turns his head to look at the sky with you.

sure enough, more streaks of white rain down like a slight drizzle.

"hurry up! make a wish!" you tell him before clasping your hands together before your face and close your eyes.

kuroo looks at you, then back at the sky. after a while, he closes his eyes and makes his wish.

i want to stay by y/n's side, even after i graduate.

however, he doesn't say it out loud. instead, he wraps his arms around your chest after you have finished making your wish.

for the first time in forever, kuroo gives you the most genuine smile that you've ever seen, which surprises you since you're so used to his cheeky smirks. it reminds you of honey and its sweet flavor.

"you know, kitty, we could do this next time," he coos in the sweetest voice you've ever heard him use.

"did you think i'd stop you?"

"ummmm..."

you look side-ways towards the tree beside you before give him your honest response.

"weeeeell, i thought you'd tell me it'd be too late into the night to do something like this and that i wouldn't be able to wake up if i stay up star-hunting."

kuroo chuckles, petting your head lightly with that big hand of his

"things like this are exceptions."

your eyes light up to his words. he has officially announced the permit to stay up searching for shooting stars that you adore a lot. it makes you very happy that you smile back warmly.

"thank you, tetsurou," you sigh, leaning into his chest comfortably.

"it's nothing, y/n."

he continues to stroke your hair in a soothing way as he maintains that genuine smile on his lips.

"just bring a jacket next time, or star-hunting will be off-limits."

[stardustedknuckles]

13-linking hands together during sex for Beau/Yasha?

Uhhh probably more than 1k, set after the Stone Coffin fight so obvs emotional hurt/comfort, operates under my personal favorite headcanon that they've been fucking on the sly since the getgo. No strings etc. Rated E for emotions (and also explicit).

Beau's resolve to turn Yasha down for her own good flares and fades at the first timid knock on her door.

If she's being honest with herself, she's known it was a non-starter since she first told herself it was for the best. The ethics of fucking someone who let themself get beat bloody like today - she could talk herself in circles but at the end of the day there's a huge part of her that's worried Yasha might just hate herself so much that she'll never let Beau touch her again. And right now, when she's in most need of comfort, the thought is unbearable.

She pulls the door open and leans on it a little, looking up at Yasha but not letting her in just yet. Her face is lightly bruised, her torso even worse outside the confines of her breastband. At the sight of Beau's expression she looks conflicted, like maybe this was a bad idea.

Then her eyes flick down to the knit line of pink flesh protruding from under Beau's breastband and she looks like this was definitely a mistake, but Beau's already let down her wall and she's got just enough fight to reach for Yasha's wrist when she shakes her head and looks at the floor.

"Hey." She keeps her grasp light - not because Yasha couldn't break her strongest grip, but because it feels important that she shouldn't have to. "I won't talk if you won't."

Yasha's stare lingers listlessly on Beau's touch for a moment before she drags her eyes up. "I think we have to."

They're quiet after that. Beau undresses Yasha with touches more careful and reserved than she ever has, and Yasha lets her. She says nothing when Beau raises up to kiss her, nothing when Beau pushes her gently, mindful of the bruises and the fading cuts from...whatever she'd been made to do, onto the bed.

"Yeah. But not tonight. Not if this helps." She hawks the next words quietly out of her own throat, an obstruction she has to clear to breathe. "It helps me too."

After a long moment, Yasha nods.

But she's not blank, either. She responds, even if she doesn't smile. She lets herself fall into Beau's hands and the difference between where they are now and where this all started - a boot in Beau's chest and the understanding that she was Yasha's to use - will stagger her if she thinks too hard about it. They'd been heading here by degrees before Yasha had been taken. A slow shift from domination into something shared. The last time they spent a night like this, Yasha had been terrified. "He's back," she'd whispered to the ceiling.

"I don't know what that means to you but I'm pretty sure we can kick his ass," Beau had replied, far too flippant and focused almost entirely on the promise of getting to put her mouth on Yasha.

And well. Hadn't that whole thing just gone to shit.

But somehow Yasha's here now and they're not talking, so there's nothing for Beau to promise that she can't keep. There's just Yasha spread before her in the low lamplight coming from the wall behind the bed, the faint eyeshine following her every movement not from suspicion but something approaching interest. She's too thin - still so powerful, but her skin clings to her muscles in a way that makes the slim part of Beau's mind not focused on the here and now rumble with fantasies of resurrection just to murder that dead demon fuck again.

Knelt between her legs, Beau can feel her mouth watering at the welcome sight of Yasha's cunt, drool the mirror to the shine of it through her curls. She's not sure what it would take to break either of them beyond the comfort sex can provide but thank the gods they haven't found it yet.

She slips her hand gently along the inside of Yasha's thigh, and after another moment of deliberation leans forward to press a kiss to the angriest of the bruises on that pale stomach. Yasha's watching her when she flicks her eyes up and when Beau ghosts to the next and waits, she nods. Hesitant when it comes to kindness, always, but the permission is given.

Beau's hand keeps a steady, slow rhythm between Yasha's legs as she maps the constellations of wounds new and old with her lips, and it isn't long before Yasha's breathing begins to hitch in a familiar way. She hears Yasha shift with the quietest of sobs and only just manages not to flinch when long, trembling fingers reach to brush over the puckered scar across her chest.

There are rules to this thing they do, mostly spoken but sometimes understood. The gentleness Beau is giving is already on the edge of what's agreed, but so is the fact of Yasha allowing it. Still, it's the most natural thing in the world to take the hand brushing knuckles over her skin in hers and push her weight forward so that she's leaned over Yasha and inches from her face as she keeps fucking her gently and searching for any indication that it's too far, too much.

Yasha's eyes shut tight with a whimper, and Beau might have retreated but for the way the hand under hers against the sheets spreads and - she hardly dares to breathe - threads her fingers between Beau's. Yasha doesn't hold on, just rests them there, but Beau is already closing her fingers around them and in the next moment the two of them are interlocked as Yasha's quiet sips of air get shorter and harsher.

She whimpers Beau's name when she comes, body taut and tears in her eyes. Beau kisses the salt and the damp of her away as softly as she dares, knowing that at any moment Yasha might catch her breath and stop her - return to her room as silently as she'd come as she has so many times before.

She doesn't, though. Her free arm releases her grip on the sheets and drapes across Beau's back, pulling her in as gently as Beau had grabbed her wrist. She could pull away if she wanted. Choice.

Except it's hardly a choice at all because when - when has lying on top of Yasha and pulling her close been an option? What's changed, that she would bury her face in Beau's neck and roll them sideways, let her ever-steady arms tremble around her and make the sort of noise she makes in her throat when Beau shushes her gently and strokes her hair? There is no choice. There is no other option but to be this - whatever this is - for as long as Yasha lets her.

It's minutes and a small, precious eternity before Yasha lifts her head to rest her chin on Beau's shoulder, before one of the hands holding her so tightly leaves to slide down her thigh and hook Beau's knee up over her legs. She makes a wet sort of questioning sound against Beau's ear and waits for the return nod before teasing her apart at the center, all without once letting go.

She doesn't leave, after, but neither does she cry and shake. Yasha's breaths even out in Beau's ear, the only indication she's still awake the thumb that rocks back and forth over Beau's shoulder. When they do finally roll apart, she reaches for the lip of the blankets and watches Beau, looking impossibly young and hopeful.

"Course," Beau whispers, forgetting herself for a moment but comforted in the knowledge that technically they each got one word. Besides, tonight's apparently the night for rule breaking - or maybe, she hardly dares to hope, a precursor to change entirely. Maybe after Kamordah, that specter looming in the back of her thoughts and making any thoughts of permanence possible. Maybe then, if it's not her nudging Yasha for this comfort or throwing herself into a fight just as brutal.

The point is, where they are now is not where they started. Where they are now, physically, feels the closest thing to right that Beau's known in a long time. For tonight, that's more than enough. Beau squirms a little closer and relaxes at the feel of Yasha's arm tightening around her waist, and she drifts off to the throb of her heart steady under her ear. Alive, alive, alive.

[jobean12-blog]

About to Blow

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 818

Summary: You really need to use the bathroom but Bucky is in the shower. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the fun prompt below! So when I first saw this prompt I thought it was so cute and funny but I couldn’t figure out how to approach it then I saw this wonderful and amazing piece of art below by @monobuu Thank you for allowing me to post it with my fic! It is such an inspiration! I love it so much! Hope you all enjoy this and it makes you smile, thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: funny fluff, sweet fluff, Bucky is a tease but it’s soft and sweet :) 

“Doll, why are you pacing outside the bathroom?” You take a sharp inhale and flatten yourself against the wall, doing your best to remain quiet. “Doll? I know you’re out there.” You’re squeezing your legs together so tightly they hurt, and your bladder is about to pop so after letting out a huff of frustration you burst in yelling, “I HAVE TO PEE BUCK!”

You can hear him laughing, the sound carrying over the pounding water, “it’s not funny! HURRY UP!” He’s still laughing, and it makes you angrier. “Just go baby girl. You don’t have to wait for me to finish.” You narrow your eyes at him even though he can’t see you, “now? With you in here?” Bucky’s head pops over the shower curtain, a large mound of soapy hair sitting atop his head, “uh yea.”

He disappears behind the curtain again and you start pacing, your bladder screaming at you with every step. “Ok fine. But don’t you dare look at me.” Bucky nearly chokes on his laugh, carefully moving the curtain aside and peeking around it, “I’m looking at you.” You have your pants half down your legs but waddle over to shove the curtain shut. “You’re the worst!”

When you sit on the toilet you’re all of a sudden afraid to start peeing, your eyes locked on Bucky’s form, “now I can’t pee!” Bucky starts singing jingle bells and you can’t help but laugh, some pee trickling out. You let out a breath and keep going, unable to stop the contented sigh from escaping past your lips. “Better right?”

“BUCKY! Don’t talk!” you scold, glaring his way again. “Wow doll, it’s been over 30 seconds already. You must have really had to go!” If you weren’t on the toilet you’d be getting in the shower to punch him. As if he knows it he keeps going. “We’re nearing a minute now. This might be a new record.” You don’t answer him, instead resting your head in your hands to try and concentrate on getting it all out.

“A minute and 10 seconds. Impressive baby girl.” You yank up your pants and flush the toilet, laughing when Bucky starts to hop around under the hot water, “ouch, shit!” “Serves you right babe! You’re such a pain in my ass!” He turns off the water and flings the curtain open, standing there in all his naked glory. “Please pass me my towel doll face.”

Throwing it at his face you start to walk out but he grabs your arm as he steps out of the shower, “where are you going?” You smirk, “you have to hurry and get ready or we’ll be late.” You take the towel and start to rub it over his hair, giggling when you pull it off and it’s big a mess. “Make sure you dry your hair, it’s cold out.”

“I never dry it; it will dry in the air!” You spin around, “or freeze as soon as we go outside! It’s like 20 degrees today!” He shrugs it off and pulls on his clean boxer briefs. “It’s fine.” You groan and push him down onto the toilet seat, grabbing your hair dryer and brush. “I’ll have it dry in no time. Just relax.” He raises a brow but doesn’t stop you, getting comfortable and watching as you set up the dryer.

First you brush his hair, carefully getting out any knots and scratching over his scalp with your fingertips. “Mmmm that feels good baby girl.” He closes his eyes and leans into your touch and you kiss the top of his head, taking the hair dryer and blowing it over his hair to get most of the dampness out. You continue to run your fingers through his long strands, now standing between his legs and brushing it from his face, “ok, now I’m just going to style it a little. It always falls nicely but this is fun.”

He nods and keeps his eyes closed as you work the brush through his hair and follow it with the dryer. A few minutes later his hair is dry, soft and shiny and you tuck it behind his ears. “There you go Buck. Now you’ll be nice and warm.” He takes your hand and kisses your palm, pulling you down into his lap, “thanks baby girl, that was really nice. Good thing you came in here to pee.”

He grins after that last comment but kisses you before you can get sassy. When you finally break apart your cheeks are flushed, and your lips are swollen. “Will you do it for me again sometime?” he asks, so soft and sweet you nearly melt again. “Of course, baby, I’d love to!” He stands, smiling and taking you in his arms, “I can’t wait! I’m gonna get dressed so we can get out of here and get home. I’m not done with you.”

@addikted-2-dopamine​ @bugsbucky​ @buckys-henley​ @buckstaybucky​ @bisousbucky​ @book-dragon-13​ @breezy1415​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jewels2876​ @lorilane33​ @lokilvrr​ @lookiamtrying​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @yansi1923​

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.

[steve-rogers-ruined-men-for-me]

Teach Me

Summary: Bucky’s worried about you overworking yourself at your teaching job. 

Warnings: some swearing, cute couple shit

Words: 2014k

A/N: this is my first full fic! I’ve really missed writing just for fun and I have a few more fic ideas and hc ideas in the works! please please please comment and let me know what you think! 

No matter what, you always came to bed when Bucky did. Sometimes you stayed up on your phone or reading but you always at least sat on the bed with him. He knew that you had a big week coming up, with your principal coming to observe you, midterms drawing closer, and your students struggling with the new curriculum the district was imposing. 

You were a high school English teacher and Bucky had met you when your school had put on an assembly about the history of the Avengers. He had noticed you in the back of the auditorium, wearing a soft blue dress and encouraging your students to ask him questions about his prosthetic. He shyly asked Tony to see if he could contact the school later and get your number. He had rolled his eyes at him and had walked up to you and asked in plain English, “The Manchurian Candidate over there wants to take you to dinner. If I set up the reservation and promise to make him show up, will you go?” Your jaw had dropped and you had numbly agreed. James Buchanan Barnes wanted to go on a date with you? Despite your doubts regarding the reality of the situation, you showed up outside the quiet Italian restaurant and the rest was history.

Bucky smiled at the memory of you dressed in a red silk jumpsuit with your hair braided back. You looked like a modern version of the girls he flirted with during the forties. Only, back then, he had been wondering how to get up their skirts but now he was more concerned with taking his time getting the jumpsuit off your gorgeous body. He felt a twitch between his legs and, smirking, shook the feeling off. He padded down to the kitchen, thinking you had gotten hungry. When that search yielded no you, he wandered through the rest of the downstairs. He noted that your car hadn’t left the driveway and checked the calendar on the fridge to see if he had the opening shift at the mechanic’s tomorrow (he mercifully did not). But he took note of how small your writing was on your to-do list for Monday. 

Feeling a pang in his chest, he remembered how he had begged you to let him have your full attention on Friday and Saturday.  While you’d reveled in your domestic bliss, by noon on Sunday, you had been buried in your office with your laptop, surrounded by books, papers, and highlighters. Smiling to himself, he realized where you were. He headed up to the attic loft, converted into your office. The walls were a soft gray and the couch the two of you had bought for your tiny first apartment was squeezed against one wall. 

Bucky’s heart tightened as he saw you sprawled on the couch, wrapped in one of his massive flannels. Your desk light was on and the desk was messier than he’d ever seen it. Your blinking phone alerted him to the fact that you’d set an alarm for midnight, but had been so tired you’d slept through it, a given considering you were working yourself to the bone and it was two a.m. Afraid to ruin your organizational system on your desk, he returned the pens and highlighters to the little decorative cups you kept them in, saved every file you had open on your laptop before closing it, and pushed the papers in imminent danger of falling onto the floor farther back on the desk. 

Content that he had lessened the burden of cleaning you’d have to do tomorrow, he crouched next to the couch. Gently smoothing a stray hair out of your face, he whispered, “baby...come on, get up, let’s go to bed.” You opened your eyes slowly and then jerked upright, sending your phone flying and Bucky scrambling backwards. 

“What time is it!” you cried, frantic. You ran towards your desk, frantically pinging your phone from your Apple Watch. Your clock on your desk blinked back 2:05 a.m. at you. Bucky picked up your incessantly beeping phone and handed it to you as you slumped in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

“I just wanted to get this stupid assessment plan done,” you whispered. You hugged his flannel tight around you as tears started to fall. Bucky turned your swivel chair so you were facing him as he knelt in between your legs. You dropped your upper body and rested your forehead on his shoulder as you sobbed. The weight of turning in grades, making assignments, checking in with your students to make sure they were doing okay, it was weighing on you. Bucky had noticed you sleeping less and drinking more coffee but hadn’t truly realized the toll it was taking on you. Kicking himself for making you spend time with him instead of alleviating your burdens at work, he pulled you out of the chair to sit between his legs, curling you into him and rocking gently. After a few minutes, you tilted your chin up and scooched back. Sitting criss cross between his legs, you cupped your chin and closed your eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck,” you said sadly. You tugged on a loose button on your sleeve, looking like a lost puppy. Bucky knew how much you adored teaching and how much you loved your students. You were always baking treats for them when they did well on exams, buying bagels so that they could eat breakfast, and extending deadlines for the kids who worked. He knew that the American school system had changed since the 1940s and when you had shown him what you had to teach in a week and just how much time and energy went into lesson planning, he almost formed his own teachers union to advocate for you. 

When he found out your dismal salary, he had to take a walk. He spent an hour with Tony railing against your pay and the administrators who punished you for the test scores of students that you had no control over. Tony sat him down after an hour of not being able to get a word in edgewise and finally pledged to harass the local school boards (and the Board of Education if they would call him back) about raising teacher salaries. Bucky had walked home to you pouring over birthday cards your sixth period juniors had given you because they’d gotten a tip that it was your birthday. (Peter helped Bucky hack your Google Classroom). He felt a wave of pride come over him as he looked at you, his selfless girl, thrilled that she was having an impact on the kids she loved the most. You getting so down on yourself broke his heart. 

“What’s wrong with your assessment plan?” he asked, intertwining your hands with his. You looked up angrily. “What ISN’T wrong with it is a better question!” you cried. “The district made the test up and it’s on a fucking scantron because what fucking isn’t these days and it’s not taking into account the fact that school is not the main focus for so many of these kids that have to fucking work and help support their siblings and all they are is numbers on a fucking piece of paper that tells you nothing about the effectiveness of my teaching or the district’s ability to educate them as a whole!” Bucky blinked rapidly as you huffed. You didn’t get angry very often, but when you did and you started to monologue, he understood why you received a distinction with your English degree. 

“Baby,” he started gently, “can I ask you something you may not like?” He knew that you were a planner and that the odds were you were beating yourself up about a task that had taken your coworkers thirty minutes to do. You always wanted to do right by your kids but if you didn’t start sleeping and taking care of yourself, you were useless to everyone, including yourself. You looked up at Bucky through teary eyes.

“Are you going to ask me if the plan’s done and I’m just being picky?” you asked in a small voice. Bucky stood up, taking you with him. He pressed your frame against him, putting your arms over his shoulders and resting his hands on your waist. He stayed to sway slightly, trying to lull you back to sleep and to try to help quiet your mind. “I wouldn’t say picky I just...look. I’m being selfish. I want you to come to bed with me. I want you to play with my hair and whisper that you love me when you think I’m out cold asleep,” he gushed, noting the slight blush that crept up your cheeks. “You are incredible. Your admin are literally fucking stupid, doll. Nothing you do will change that. You are trying your best and if you think that your kids won’t benefit from the 12 different plans you’ve cooked up, then you’re crazy. Your kids don’t need a version 13, baby. They need you whole, in one piece, and ready to fight for them if they need.” He kissed your forehead, trying to ease your creased brow. Giving in to his ministrations, you sighed. You thought about how this plan should’ve probably only taken an hour. But then you rewrote the plan for the week based off of if your kids took a lot of time on the test, a little time, got anxious during it, caught on fire during it, committed larceny during the test and you had to contact the police. You knew it was overkill but you also knew that budget cuts were coming, contracts were up at the end of this year, and you and Bucky were saving to buy a house instead of living in a condo forever. 

“Buck?” you whispered. He lifted his chin off your head and looked down.

“Yeah, doll?” 

You felt the exhaustion settle into you all at once. “Can we go to bed?” 

Picking you up and putting you in a fireman’s carry, Bucky held you the whole way down to your bedroom. He pulled out a shirt of his for you to sleep in while you brushed your teeth and rinsed off in the shower. He walked in right as you were towelling off and he slipped it over your head with ease. He offered to blow dry your hair but you declined, favoring slipping into a warm sleep with him. He cuddled you close, forgoing asking you to play with his hair in favor of trying to hug all the pride he felt about you into your body via osmosis. Your head was resting soft on his chest, one arm curled protectively around his torso. His metal arm was tucked up and around your shoulders, keeping you comfortable. His flesh hand caressed your arm around him to remind you that he would always be there for you. He loved you more than anything. As your breathing evened and his hand on your side rose in gentle time with your breath, he decided that he was going to call Tony tomorrow. He knew a few people who owed him from his time as the Winter Soldier and if they didn’t want their dirty laundry exposed, dammit he was going to make someone in the district fix the stupid test until it worked how you wanted it to work. He hugged you closer to him, giving you one final squeeze before he started drifting off to sleep. He slipped into a dream where he was a professor and you a naughty schoolgirl and he had just convinced you to bend over to pick something up behind his desk when...a loud snore from you jolted him back to the reality of his exhausted teacher girlfriend wearing his baggy shirt, with hair going every which way. There was no plaid skirt here. Only love and admiration. Bucky kissed your temple and willed sleep to come again.