#sense but like a my style makes me want to hurl whenever i look at it bcs it's a constant reminder that it can only be what i can make it be

[jrueships]

tbh tho i think my art is fugly af LMFAO

[purplecrkl]

(Wrote this two years ago and never posted it. Now that I have free time, I want to practice writing again!! I have no idea where this was going, but it’s my first time writing something, so hopefully it makes some sense 💀)

Also I pictured Daniel as Aaron Taylor Johnson from that one BLACK AND WHITE AD URGH 😩 #freeATJ 😔✊🏼

—————————————————

(10 years earlier)

“Tell me to stay. Tell me, if I choose to walk away, you will never speak to me again. Tell me I’m making the biggest mistake of my life. Tell me-“

“Tell me you know how to start a sentence without using ‘tell me’, right?”

“Tell me you’re an asshole without *telling* me you’re an asshole. How’s that?” I say back. Daniel, unfazed by remark, reaches for a pillow on my bed, hurling it at the side of my head. Carefully dodging the laptop showing the unfinished script of my latest story.

“I’m just saying, you’re reaching. I mean come on, no one actually says this stuff. Let alone out loud in an airport. Imagine the looks you’d get if we held up the line like that at Heathrow. I’d barely have time to spit the second line out before security kicked us out. Not to mention the ‘No Fly List’ we’d be put on, and rightfully so.”

This has been our routine since we met in 8th grade. Now, both in college, Daniel remains the only person I share my stories with. The path to becoming a screenwriter is long and treacherous but Daniel had always been supportive of my dreams. If there was anything I could count on him for, it was his brutal honesty. He would never tell me what I wanted to hear, and was always careful to reel me in whenever I was too harsh on myself.

While I wrote, Daniel would sketch quietly on my bed. He had dreams of becoming an architect and could talk my ear off about the ingenuity of various finite materials, how brutalist architecture is his least favourite style and why he’d move to Japan in a heartbeat because timber burnt houses had proven to increase the lifespan of its tenants.

Truthfully I think his desire to create a home that stood the test of time had to do with the fact he hadn’t experienced one himself. Mr and Mrs Keating weren’t bad people per se, they were just bad parents. Daniel didn’t remember much about his childhood. Bringing up the past never bode well for him. A feat Daniel was cruelly reminded of when he was asked to recall his favourite part about his seventh birthday at school the next day.

“My Lego bike”, he said proudly.

“And when I saw daddy kissing mummy in the library.”

The kids in his class let out a chorus of ‘ews’, whilst sneaking glances at who they’d declare their love for in the playground later that day.

Mrs Keating apparently cherished that moment too, going as far as giving it its own highlighted section in the divorce papers she served Mr Keating with the following weekend. A memory she would have no recollection of, if it weren’t for Daniel’s reminder. And after both parties agreed to sell the house, cashing in a hefty cheque large enough to erase 7 years of marriage, Daniel had barely managed to pack his favourite toys before he was waving goodbye to the house he grew up in. To hell with that library, he thought.

Though I didn’t know him back then, anyone could have guessed using your child to communicate the failings of the other parent; then shipping him off to boarding school when he refused to choose a side would end in serious emotional unrest in said kid. To this day, Daniel refuses to subject himself to any notion of love in fear of repeating his parents mistakes.

“God, I cannot wait for the day Daniel Keating confesses his undying love in the middle of an airport” I say, while crawling my way into the space beside him. A loud scoff erupts from his chest and it’s my favourite sound I’ve heard all day. But then it’s silent for a beat too long and I’m afraid I’ve offended him with such a preposterous idea. Daniel, capable of love? Ha.

In a second he’s up on his feet, pacing the room with my laptop in hand. He studies my script for a few seconds and it takes all I have to not stare at him too long. But it’s Daniel Keating. And in the last six years I’ve known him, I’ve stolen enough glances to confidently recite every part of him in my sleep.

Almost, every part.

A quiet chuckle brings me back and I’m scared he’s finally caught me staring this time. He hasn’t. And although it’s impossible to see anything beyond the dark cesspool of cocoa in his eyes, I still catch that devilish glint when he stalks towards me.

“Tell me to stay Lex,” he says.

If his head full of curls weren’t brushing against his ears, I’m sure he would’ve heard my heart stop.

“Tell me you’ll never speak to me again, if I choose to walk away.”

That’s impossible, I want to say. You could walk away a million times and I’d welcome you back a million and one.

Daniel reaches me on the bed and I’m certain if I don’t take a breath in the next second my respiratory system will take ‘you’ll never speak to me again’ quite literally. Does Heaven give out ‘do-overs’ for misunderstandings like this? It’s not like I meant to stop breathing. Blame the boy currently intertwining my hand with his.

“Tell me, I’m making the biggest mistake of my life Lex.”

He cups my cheek, and I wonder if he’s noticed I’ve come undone in the palm of his hand. I wonder if he knows everything I’ve written up to this point has been about him.

About us.

I’m certain I’ve stopped breathing. But I’m not worried. There are worse ways to go out, than having Daniel Keating here with me, like this. So with my hand in his right, and my heart in his other, I make a vow right then and there. To love him with everything I have.

Daniel.

I will love you when you stay.

I will love you if you choose to walk away.

But most importantly, I will continue to love you even if it turns out to be the biggest mistake of my life.

And it is.

[360iris]

do you have any wips? sorry i’m just curious, i’m in love with your writing

Luv, Hold Me Down (Sirius Black x Reader, WIP)

Warning: Mature themes? I don’t know with this one.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: You’re gonna hate my ass because I have zero intention to finish the smut on this one shdhd. Maybe when I’m less busy I’ll come back and update it (although not atm). There are typos galore too so I’m sorry in advance!

—————————————-

The infamous Bubblegum Bomb Incident of 1972. Casualties: one.

During Year Two, Sirius had resolved to get revenge on Cissy’s insufferable boyfriend ever since he tripped him in the halls to get a laugh out of his Slytherin lackeys; and what better way to do that than ruining his precious platinum locks.

It was suppose to be a quick and untraceable procedure. He’d get to personally serve Lucius his own brand of justice and the job would be completed without having to suffer detention.

If only you hadn’t been rushing through the halls that day.

Lunch had just ended, and you were haphazardly ducking and dodging through the wave of students, on your way to visit Remus. He’d been sentenced to a strict, three day period of consistent bed-rest in the infirmary after a particularly bad transformation.

You’d just wanted to bring him a slice of his favorite Hogwarts style coconut cream pie, but one wrong turn and you were suddenly bombarded with three quick pelts of homemade exploding bubblegum bullets.

Sirius had designed them to be quick and lethal with their distribution of rubbery goo so that the target's hair was sure to be ruined.

The first shot sent the small plate in your hands completely airborne. The next two hit you square in the chest, knocking you fully onto your back.

The aftermath was so extreme that it took the combined effort of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and eventually, the guiding hand of Madam Pomfrey to free you from the sticky sludge and off of the stone pavement.

By the time they’d got to the infirmary, your entire head of hair had been deemed unsalvageable by sweet Poppy, and the only thing she could figure to do was shave it clean off by hand.

You’d spent the next two days unexpectedly alongside a tired Remus, confined in the sick bay, crying your eyes out hysterically. You’d had no idea who had done this to you or why.

That was until the third day, when Poppy finally allowed visitors in, in hopes of lifting your spirits.

Your guests included:

An empathetic Lily and Mary, both girls bringing you and Remus an abundance of flowers from the greenhouses, with explicit approval from Professor Sprout; alongside the homework you’d missed and plenty of junk foods.

An overzealous Marlene who’d spent the entirety of the three days drafting up and collecting signatures for a petition to permanently ban disruptive joke shop type inventions.

And lastly, an uncharacteristically stonefaced James and solemn Sirius who both quietly observed the crucially placed scarf on your head meant to distract from your current state of baldness.

“Go on then. Tell her, man. It’s only proper.” James said abruptly with folded arms, for the first time ever foregoing his usual impeccable home-taught manners and any form of courteous greetings altogether.

You watched confused as Sirius stood some several feet away, staring directly down at his shoes. After another coarse verbal prod from James, he stepped forward, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“I- You have to understand, I couldn’t have known, Y/N! It happened so suddenly and before I knew it, it was too late!” He pleaded desperately and you weren’t quite understanding what he meant.

“I don’t follow, Sirius. What are you on about?” You asked, watching as he began wringing his hands.

He looked over to James again, seemingly pleading for aid that wouldn’t come. James looked positively severe, intent on standing by his decision to have the boy do this by himself.

“I- I was the one who blew the gum bullets.” Sirius finally whispered, looking positively terrified of your reaction. “But I didn’t intend on hitting you, I promise! It was for that git Malfoy! Remember when he tripped me in front of all of those sixth years last month? I’d been working on a way to get him back ever since! You’ve got to believe me, Y/N!”

But you’d stopped listening after the initial reveal. Your blood ran cold and it was hard to focus on anything in particular before suddenly all of your senses came rushing back in, and you were furious.

And even though James and Remus had been gauging your response, neither could have been quick enough to match the speed at which you pulled off both of your slippers and hurled them at the older boy’s face.

Successfully managing to clock him so hard, he reflexively reached up to clutch his sore, but still intact nose.

After that day, you had deemed Sirius public enemy number one, he managed to outrank even the silver-spoon fed Slytherins and that antagonizing blight, Peeves.

While there were tonics for quickening hair growth, you cursed Sirius Orion Black, every time you had to awkwardly apply a plethora of random oils to your scalp and walk around campus bald for an entire semester.

When he looked your way, you glared back mercilessly. If he dared to even address you, your responses were far from being deemed PG-13.

He’d spent the first six months wearily but consistently trying to apologize, however the damage had already been done, and it’d destroyed any semblance of friendship he’d crafted with you beforehand.

So after a while, he gave up. If you were going to hate him regardless of his actions, he figured he might as well stand up for himself during the bickering matches that transpired whenever the two of you were less than six feet apart.

Over the years, you’d remained bestfriends with Remus and James, though they could never hang out with the both of you at the same time.

For example, if you were eating breakfast with the two boys in The Great Hall and Sirius arrived late after sleeping in, you’d promptly roll your eyes and slide away to talk with Lily.

——

“That most definitely is not healthy, James.” You grimaced, tilting your head back laughing. The book in your lap, long since abandoned from the moment your bestfriends entered the common room.

“Muggle five second rule, Y/N! You were the one who told me about it to begin with!” He grinned from his spot sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

You couldn’t help bursting into a fit of giggles, desperately trying to respond. “Rem- Remus! Please! Inform him that it doesn't apply to dropping a sandwich down an entire flight of stairs!”

“Believe me I tried, but he seemed pretty determined to eat it, hair and all after catching up to it.” Remus replied softly, a fond smile playing on his lips as you began making gagging noises of disgust.

“No! James Fleamont Potter, tell me you didn’t actually eat hair!” You laughed, extending your socked foot to shove him.

“I will suffice by just saying that, there may or may not have been a stray hair or two on it when I picked it up- Oh! Sirius, how was detention?” James trailed off to greet a certain boy and your demeanor immediately soured.

Your textbook on alchemical runes suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

“It was worth it. Mcgonagall must be getting tired of me because she had me choose a book and read for three hours. Don’t let me interrupt the fun though. Looks like you’ve finally coaxed the Ice Queen to defrost for a bit. Shame I wasn’t here to see it.” He remarks, and you didn’t need to be looking at him to know he was wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Don’t worry, Black. I’ll never be able to truly relax knowing you’re still out running amuck. Next time you get written up, I’ll be sure to beg Mcgonagall to keep you chained outside with the rest of the wild animals.” An acute look of disgust etches across your face as you close your book, promptly shoving it into your bag.

“If you’re so desperate to see me in a collar, the person you need to be begging is right in front of you, doll.”

You could not have rolled your eyes harder at his remark. In a huff, you tug the strap of your bag around your frame and stand indignantly.

“You’re actually right for once. James? Keep your mutt on a tighter leash, before I’m forced to be the one that puts him down.” You sneer, flipping your hair over one shoulder and striding up to the girls dormitory before he can get in another word.

Remus sighed, unhappily leaning back against the couch he was currently sprawled across. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Sirius watched as your figure disappeared up the stairs before turning to the boy, a dumb smile playing on his lips.

“She doesn’t hate me nearly as much as she tries to make you believe.” Was all he offered giddily before skillfully changing the subject.

———

Much like the infamous playboy Sirius Black, you were known for how frequently you broke the hearts of anyone you hooked up with. They found that sex with you was a spiritual experience, but were usually crushed when you made it clear you weren’t interested in recurring partners.

When Gryffindor’s Quidditch team won a mid-season match against Ravenclaw, James was relentless in persuading you to come to the after party. And though you weren’t originally keen on the idea, you figured it’d be an ample opportunity to relieve some stress.

The night had gone well. You’d garnered a nice buzz from the punch James made in his dorm and had your eyes fixed on Theodore Nott who’d been snuck in by Marlene.

Sirius, who was working his way onto his third cup of punch, watched you make eyes with the Slytherin boy from across the room.

He sat silently seething as you adjusted in your spot on the couch, crossing your legs while holding that snake’s gaze. In the end, all it took was the simple curl of your index finger for Theodore to hand his drink to an unimpressed Marlene and approach you.

Sirius watched as the two of you exchanged a handful of words before you sultrily dragged the boy away by his collar.

It took a minute for him to register that the styrofoam cup in his grasp was crushed.

After grabbing a napkin, he irritatedly ran a hand through his hair and his breath was ragged.

Why did he care that you were probably seconds from fucking a random guy? He definitely wasn’t one to judge, he’d been with plenty of people over the years.

However, no matter how many times he rolled the idea around in his head, he was getting angrier by the minute.

Remus approached him to spark up a conversation, but he was already slipping past him, towards the direction he watched you disappear to earlier.

He found you in the hallway, lip-locked with Theodore who had a grip on one of your exposed thighs. Meanwhile your hands were tangled in his hair.

Sirius’ body switched into autopilot, moving at such a speed that his brain couldn’t even keep pace.

He had harshly pulled the boy off of you, slung you onto his shoulder and made his way to his dorm. Partygoers standing confused as you beat his back, yelling at him to let you go. Once he’s on the stairs away from prying eyes, he delivers a sharp slap to the exposed skin on your thigh.

“Stop screaming bloody murder, Y/L/N.” is all he says and you bite your lip at the sting.

By the time he locked his door and tossed you onto his bed you’re looking at him like he’s insane. Scurrying to get off the mattress but he quickly grabs you ankle, pulling you back to where he dropped you.

“What the fuck has gotten into you!?” You hiss, watching him run a hand through his locks.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to stop being a brat and realize you like me. Tired of watching you hop on random dicks that aren’t mine. You want to get laid tonight? Fine, fuck me then.” He growls and you’re instantly overwhelmed.

“Did a screw come loose in your head? I don’t know what the hell you’re on but I’m not fucking you all people!” You respond by grasping a pillow from his bed and chucking it at his head. He easily catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since our first year, Y/N. And I’ve observed you long enough to know if you genuinely hated me or not.” He confesses and you freeze. His eyes were crystal clear and you’re at a loss of words so he continues.

He gently grasps one of your hands, bringing it up over his heart. You can very faintly feel his heart racing and your brows furrow. He was actually being genuine.

“You want fuck me so bad you’ve officially gone stupid?” You ask but he sees the tiniest smirk on your lips. And for whatever reason, you actually let him move in to kiss you.

He jumps a bit when you bite his bottom lip and you giggle before he’s pressing you back onto the bed.

It’s a fight for dominance, neither of you wanting to be the one that relents.

[straightlikewetspaghetti]

Demons of the Past

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: Mature language

Word count: 3074

Ch.1 Stranger Danger

Poppy Min Sinclair had to arch her slender neck to see her reflection from over the shoulder of Chloe, who had been testing her new artistic vision on her for a good few minutes. For some time now, Poppy had become a canvas for Chloe's magical hands as she tried her luck at running a beauty salon, along with Veronica, who was doing her best advertising.

"What do you think V?"

Veronica tore her gaze away from her phone and looked towards Poppy wrinkling her nose slightly. She usually did that when she was seriously considering something. "As far as I'm concerned she could use some plastic surgery."

"Asshole," Poppy laughed hurling a pillow at her friend, which missed and knocked over a decorative vase standing nearby. Three girls looked in that direction and soon the three of them burst out laughing loudly, curling up on the floor.

"Enough, enough!", Chloe began to shout when she noticed that Poppy wanted to wipe her eyes from crying, and she caught her hands, looking at her with a chastising gaze. She wouldn't let her hard work be destroyed so easily. Poppy rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face remained constant as she silently teased the shorter girl along with Veronica. "Why am I hanging out with you guys..."

"You love us," whined Veronica hugging a reddened Chloe with one arm, who lowered her gaze quickly to her hands nervously playing with the hem of her skirt.

Poppy made the sound of displeasure she made whenever the two girls started acting too cute. She was glad for their happiness, but deep down she felt an incredible jealousy, because she herself would like to share her life with someone too.

The couple sort of understood the blonde, pulled away from each other and looked at her docilely.

"Don't worry Poppy, I'm sure you'll meet someone at the party tonight. From what I heard Zoey invited some cutie from the old days...", Chloe smiled as she tried to convey positive energy with her words. "Besides, you're wearing my makeup, no one will be able to resist you!"

"Cutie you say..."

Ch.2 Party Fever

She was the most beautiful girl in the whole room.

No.

She was the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

Bea watched from a dark corner of the room as Poppy twirled effortlessly to the beat of the music, attracting the stares of drooling people with her movements. Her tiny skirt didn't leave much to the imagination either, but that was Poppy Min Sinclair's style; if she wasn't the main attraction, what was the point of her presence?

"You're acting like a creep," she was snapped out of her observation by Zoey who magically appeared next to her, making her almost gasp.

"You should have some kind of bell around your neck, Wade," Bea rolled her eyes at her friend's laughter.

"Wow, she has nice ass... Ets, yeah, nice assets," Zoey smiled innocently seeing her friend's murderous gaze. "You'd better come over to her eventually,"

Her gaze went back to the dancing blonde. "It's been five years, what should I say to her?"

"Maybe something like; Heya Pops I already have money, maybe you want to come with me for a little Macarena?", the black-haired squirmed as Bea's fist landed right in her stomach, almost knocking the air out of her lungs. The slight pain she felt didn't stop her from laughing at the tomato-like look that appeared on her friend's face. "Come on babe, she's at the bar now, this is your opportunity."

Bea nodded and straightened up, ready to attack. "You finally said something with sense."

Ch.3 Deja-vu

"One Old Fashioned and Sex On The Beach."

Poppy turned behind her with a ready biting remark, but her voice froze in her throat when she saw the person standing behind her. And it was none other than Bea Hughes herself, her first drink, crush, kiss, sex, love, but also her first heartbreak. She stood before her as casually as if those five years of separation between them had never existed. Her short brown hair, now shoulder-length, was whiter than snow itself. Her childlike facial features had sharpened and she could see tiny wrinkles appearing from the overworked late nights. Her style had also changed, from boyishly sporty and bad girl to formal and important. She looked like a millionaire ripped straight from the cover of Forbes. She no longer resembled the person she once was.

"You remembered what I drink," the blonde choked out as the first wave of shock left her and the lump in her throat loosened. Talking to her seemed so unreal that she felt like she had lost consciousness and was now dreaming.

Bea smiled in response, though it was more of a tired smile than the beaming howl with which she had greeted Poppy daily in their school years. "There are some things that are hard to forget Pops," the white-haired girl shrugged her shoulders sheepishly as she slid the hundred across the counter towards the bartender, who with renewed vigor reached over and ran to prepare the drinks, nearly tipping over his own feet.

"Feeling generous tonight?", Poppy chuckled as she watched Bea tuck a rather thick bundle of bills into her pocket. In their teenage years, the white-haired girl had barely been able to make ends meet, but Poppy had always admired her ability to live from day to day and enjoy herself, even when an eviction order from her home hung over her head.

Bea laughed a throaty laugh that sounded almost like a cough. She nodded and tilted her head to one side, the way she did every time she got into a thoughtful mood. "There's nothing wrong with supporting the littles." Poppy's insides tightened to ask where she'd gotten all that money, but by some miracle her strong will managed to curb the urge and nip it in the bud. That would be tactless, and lack of tact is a trait that should not be associated with Min Sinclair.

"You can ask me anything you want," Bea looked her straight in the eye, making Poppy stop seeing anyone else but her. It was as if she had cast a spell on her and moved them far away, enclosing them in a safe bubble illusion. Even the music became just a distant rumble as the white-haired woman looked at her that way. The same way she had looked at her five years ago.

"I don't understand," the blonde cursed herself when she heard her own words, which sounded more idiotic than some of Chloe's wisdom. Bea seemed unmoved, by her clumsy attempt at pretending, in fact, a cocky grin appeared on her lips that she, oh so much, felt like tearing off now.

" Don't play games Poppy, we're not kids anymore," Bea reached for the drinks that had finally been brought in and handed one to Poppy, completely casually, fingertips brushing against the skin of her palm. "Drink up, it'll help you relax, and I know you have a lot of questions."

The blonde lowered her gaze to the drink and took a moment to look at the colors that danced on the surface of her liquor. How was Bea able to read her like an open book after all these years. Everyone said she had changed, but could it be that the change wasn't so great after all? And why was she always questioning herself in her company?

She was pulled out of her reverie by Bea, who unnoticeably slipped her finger under her chin and lifted her face so that they were looking at each other again. This time, however, she was closer, much, much closer. Poppy could without much difficulty smell the expensive perfume that didn't match the Bea of her memories, but did match the woman who sat before her. Just as in years past, Bea's thumb involuntarily stroked her cheek.

For a brief moment, the blonde let her selfish thoughts consume her and savor the touch, but it didn't last as long as she wanted it to. "N-no," she whispered and using all of her strong willpower she moved a safe distance away from the white-haired woman, who didn't object to her reaction. "I can't do it like this," she said as she walked away, escaping as quickly as possible from this cursed place, from this cursed past.

Ch.4 When It Rains, It Pours

When she left the building, it was already dark and chilly outside, and a light rain was drizzling from the heavy clouds hanging in the sky. At this point, however, she didn't care about ruining her expensive and designer clothes and makeup that Chloe had sat on for dozens of minutes. She needed to get some fresh air, cool down, and let her thoughts flow.

Why had she come back just now? Now that Poppy had put her life back together, without her and without thoughts of her.

"Sinclair!"

"You've got to be kidding me," she snorted under her breath hearing Bea's loud voice behind her, who as usual wasn't giving up. At least that hadn't changed. "What do you want Farmsville?"

Bea squirmed at that old nickname, but quickly imposed a stoic expression on her face and shoved her hands into her pockets. Even in this gentle rain and illuminated only by the slightly penetrating moonlight, she continued to look like a goddess, which annoyed Poppy immensely.

"You ran out so suddenly, I thought something happened and I thought..."

"Oooh now you thought?" snapped the blonde, who nervously shifted from foot to foot, almost ready to throw herself at the white-haired woman's throat. Years of pent up rage bubbled through her veins, making her skin almost burn with living fire. "Forgive my surprise, but I would never judge Bea Hughes for her ability to think!"

The white-haired woman watched her in silent contemplation, answering nothing. Her silence irritated the blonde a hundred times more than anything she could say. The atmosphere between them was becoming strained to the limit and all it took was one wrong move, one misspoken word, and the catastrophe was certain. The rain intensifying around them wasn't helping either.

"I don't understand what happened. We were talking calmly like we used to, and suddenly you run out and do one of your tantrums..."

"Ha! Like we used to...," she interrupted her again in mid-sentence, mimicking her and almost bursting into maniacal laughter, but her mood had nothing to do with amusement. "I guess you've already forgotten that you left me for five whole years and now you're back and you expect us to talk like old friends?", her voice wavered between anger and tears. "Someone paid you to come back here? That's where you got the money from, right? You were hired to get revenge on me..."

"What," the astonishment in Bea's voice was almost palpable as she stared at the blonde shaking with anger with her eyes wide open. It was Poppy's nature to explode and make arguments for any reason, but what she was saying now sounded irrational, even for her. "I'm the CEO of my uncle's company, that's where I get my money from," she corrected.

"What," this time it was Poppy's turn to be surprised and her face even softened. "What do you mean, what about your dreams of becoming a music star?"

Bea scratched the back of her neck nervously and lifted her face up, letting the raindrops wash her face of any negativity that had accumulated. When she felt ready enough not to explode, she looked back at the blonde and sighed, her face looking more tired than before. "Those were childhood daydreams. A music career would never make me the kind of money an accounting firm would."

"Childish daydreams? You spent your first earned money on a guitar and an amplifier, how can you call that childish daydreams...", the concern in Poppy's voice was sincere, probably one of the more sincere feelings she had felt in recent times.

"I needed real options and real money," Bea replied dryly, ignoring any emotion from the blonde, who was looking at her with a worried expression on her face.

"What for? Why did you need the money?" she asked, not yet knowing that she would light the fuse from the bomb with that question.

"What for? Is that really what you're asking?", Bea's so far calm expression bent into unnatural anger, her eyes misting over from the emotions gripping her. "And isn't that what you wanted? A girl who can fulfill your every whim, with a stable life, a job and a mountain of money?", a realization and simultaneous remorse appeared on Poppy's face, but it did not satisfy Bea. "Yes Poppy, I heard your conversation with Veronica the other night when you thought I was sleeping."

Poppy blinked several times, unable to formulate a response. She replayed that conversation in her mind, all the words she'd said then that she hadn't really meant, but under the onslaught of people around her, her perception was distorted. "It's not like that..."

Bea raised a hand to silence any explanation from the blonde. She didn't want to hear it. "No Pops" she shook her head, her hair wet from the downpour sticking to her face, masking any tears falling. "It at least gave me the motivation to change my life, for that I will be grateful."

Ch.5 Irreplaceable

"You understand that she still had the nerve to be mad at me? Like it's my fault for changing for her," Bea had been lamenting to Zoey for about an hour, who, like any patient friend, silently let her rant.

"And she's telling me that she changed for me... After all, I didn't ask her to!", Poppy nervously walked around the living room almost already trampling a path in the tiles. A worried Veronica and Chloe watched her in silence, letting her get all the negative emotions out.

"I know she didn't ask me to do this, but I wanted to finally be worthy of her, you know? I wanted to give her the future she deserved, and she wouldn't have it with me if I continued to follow my dreams," the white-haired girl slumped helplessly on the couch next to her friend, dipping her face into her hands. "After all, to a gorgeous girl like Poppy, it wouldn't be enough that I...”

"After all, she knew full well that she suited me the way she was, why did she take away the one person I..."

"Love."

"I wish I could be mad at her...", Bea muttered lifting her face and looking straight at Zoey who seemed to be in deep thought.

"But I can't," groaned Poppy leaning against Veronica's shoulder, who reflexively began to stroke the blonde's back, which slowly began to twitch from her silent crying. Chloe moved to the other side and snuggled into Poppy to give her her full support, knowing that no words could heal these wounds.

Zoey nodded and patted the white-haired girl's shoulder giving her silent support. Bea relaxed from her friend's touch. "Haven't you thought maybe it's about time..."

"To move on and find someone new? It's been five years," Veronica felt Poppy's whole body tense up and prepared for a burst of anger, from the blonde, but the blonde only raised her head and furrowed her eyebrows."

"No. She's irreplaceable."

Ch.6 Where Something Ends, Something Begins

It had been a week since the memorable meeting.

Since then, Poppy hadn't seen or heard from Bea who had sunk like a stone into water. Such disappearing without a word wasn't her style, but the blonde wasn't sure what her style was anymore. The days she lived as she always did, and the nights she sat curled up on the couch with a glass of wine and reminisced about old times while talking to herself.

"Thank you for coming Poppy."

Poppy slipped her sunglasses off her nose and looked over at Zoey who was warming her hands with a mug of hot coffee. "Believe it, I was surprised myself that I agreed," she lied. She agreed without hesitation because she knew it was about Bea, and inside she was dying to know what was happening to her.

Zoey giggled at the blonde's nudge and shook her head. Although her words were biting, there wasn't an ounce of incivility in them. Such a habit between them. "You can probably guess why I met with you."

"Is it about Bea?", Poppy tried to sound as formal as possible and not show that she was thinking about it day in and day out, almost unable to focus on anything else. How pathetic it would be if someone found out she couldn't control her feelings.

The black-haired woman sighed grimly and nodded her head. For a moment she began to search through her backpack and pulled out a strange little bundle. Poppy tilted her head and looked at the colorful paper that only her Bea could choose. She smiled at the surge of positive memories.

"The day she left, she told me to give this to her. I honestly thought about it for a long time, against all odds I wouldn't want you to suffer any more than you already have," Zoey's gaze drifted somewhere behind Poppy's back as she couldn't stand the pain in the blonde's eyes that grew with every word she said. "But I think this will help both you and her close a chapter in your life" Zoey pulled money out of her pocket and placed it next to the empty cup. Without a word, she placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, who stared at the package as if mesmerized. She squeezed it tightly and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

With trembling hands, she reached for the bundle and prepared to open it. Somewhere deep inside she knew exactly what she would find, but she hoped that it was only an illusion and that it would not really contain what she had in mind. Unfortunately, hope is the mother of fools and when she opened the package, a velvet box appeared before her eyes.

She opened it with tears in her eyes.

"Maybe in another life and another time we would have had a chance, but I will love you always."

[notnctu]

to jungwoo, my best friend ♡

To All The J’s I’ve Loved Before Series by notnctu ♡ kim jungwoo x reader ♡ genre - fluff  ♡ wc - 1.5k ♡ warnings - none   ♡ synopsis - in which you and your best friend form a pact ♡ taglist - @colpen​ ; @cestmoncoeur​ ; @hyucksberry​ ; @lexiluness​ ; @lovelycharm05​ ; @dearlyminhyung​ ; @classic-antifood​ ; @pikijaemin​ ; @whorefortaeyong​ ; @jaeismytamtation​ ; @skrtbeepbeep​ ; @justakpopstans​ ; @macaroni-sly​​ ; @neodreams06​​​ ; @sunflowerhae​​​ ; @bearboyunho​​​ ; @lxstinthxdream​ ; @lanadreamie​

♡ a/n: and this concludes the end of the series hehe thank you all who have kept up with it and expressed all your feedback!! we couldnt have asked for such a good turn out! pls look out for some future works :)) 

Jungwoo, 

This should not come as a surprise to me or you at all. At first, I thought you were just some dumb hall mate that was always dropping his shampoo bottle while his arms were filled with the rest of his shower necessities because he never bothered to buy a shower caddy. Two years later, and somehow, you haven’t found a new best friend to replace me yet. 

Remember our pact, the one we made almost a year ago? I’m sorry, but I broke it, not because I actually found another person worth breaking it for. I broke it because I realized some feelings I had been festering. So, I guess I’m not that tough after all.

I don’t even know if I love you, or even like you in that sense. But I know that I truly do value you in my life. Without you, I wouldn’t have anyone else to cry about midterms with, drink away the sorrow of failing grades, and even just eat lunch with. 

You just know me best. You know how I’m like and what I like. You tease and make fun of me all the time, but you’re always the first person that gives me a shoulder to cry on, motivate me to do my best, and cheer with me when I got my first internship. 

The small sparkles that blossom in my chest whenever you look me in the eyes must be temporary. It must be from your new hair cut and sudden sense of fashion. They’re only small subtle changes anyways.

Maybe a part of me does wonder what it would be like to date you. You already bring me so much joy as my best friend, how much happier could you make me as my boyfriend? 

But I think that my love for exceeds past wanting romance with you, but more so, for you. I am already thankful that you’re in my life, and I hope you continue to forever be in my life.

Instead of loving me more than you already do, I want you to find someone who will make you happy, who will love and cherish you in every way possible in the ways I can’t. 

I know I love you. You’re my best friend, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. 

-from your ride or die, y.n

“Jung Jaehyun?” Jungwoo exclaimed. “Are you an idiot? That’s her ex.” 

“Okay! Yes! I reali- ow!” Mark whines as your best friend hit his shoulder, knowing that scowling the boy was not enough.

“Hey it’s okay, it wasn’t even that bad.” You casually sip on your morning coffee. 

“You actually continued the date with him?” Jungwoo’s eyes widened, almost as big as bowling balls. 

“Yea, we’re friends,” You emphasize, “Especially since someone always leaves on the weekends and someone else is too popular and has many friends to attend to.”

Before Jungwoo can roll his eyes, Mark catches a glance of his watch, alarmed by the time being shown.

“Oh shit,” Mark hurriedly packs his things. “I’m late for class, I’ll see you guys during our two hour gap right?” You and Jungwoo nod in unison as you watch the rushed boy dash off towards the tall buildings.

Your best friend clears his throat, “so are you two planning on getting back together? I really thought you and that Jisung kid were going to hit it off. The guy looks at you with hearts in his eyes and attentive ears.” 

Scoffing, the morning sun is dazzling on Jungwoo’s eyes, nose, and lips. There is a brief moment of examination when you take in the change in his outfit choice, him wearing jeans instead of grey sweat shorts.

It’s almost as if Jungwoo styled his hair differently today as well, the part in his hair now sways slightly off the center. He looks good today, almost as if you were finding your platonic perspective on your best friend shifting to attraction.

Jungwoo peers over at you when you don’t answer his question and he waves a hand in your dazed face. With an immediate choke on your coffee, you snap out of it all.

“No! I told him we weren’t getting back together, as flirty as he always is. And Jisung,” an exasperated sigh draws from your lips, followed by a small pout, “the feelings I have for him are out of care, though I love spending time with him. Time just stops and we’re in our own little world, but to be together in the real world… it’s difficult for my heart to say.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes at the poetry that endlessly spews from your mouth.

“Okay, Shakespeare. Don't worry, you’ll find someone to grant your ridiculous fairytale romance one day. And since I know you best, I’ll make sure that the person comes into your life riding on a majestic horse to sweep you off of your feet.” 

The sweet smile does not match the teasing tone, but instead reminds you of sincerity. There is this unrecognizable tingly sparkle that runs across your chest when you two catch each other’s eyes.

A tiny voice in your head wonders, could it be you, Kim Jungwoo? Despite not knowing how to ride a horse, he did mention how he knows you best.

He knows everything about your interests, your taste, your habits. He’s the perfect balance of sweet and salty. Your number one supporter, your number one speed dial. Your best friend, as if he didn’t already play that role too perfectly. 

The happiness Jungwoo warms you with is already delightful, so could limits be tested to see if it would be better in a relationship? It is definitely an option to be explored.

“Let’s make a pact.” It’s music to his ears, the curious boy loves hearing a new proposal. A mischievous grin is noted, along with the gleam that glosses over his eyes. “If we’re both single by the time we graduate college, we’ll date each other.”

“On one condition,” your best friend starts, the evil smile not fading, “the pact is broken if one of us develops feelings for the other person before graduation.” 

Jungwoo proposes a challenge that might actually cause you to lose. The unsettling drop in your stomach makes you want to hurl, and it’s hard to swallow your pride.

“Like I would actually like you?” The quiver in your lip initiates Jungwoo to chuckle.

He sees right through your tough act, and knows exactly how to taunt you. “Sometimes I catch you staring at me like how Jisung stares at you.” Jungwoo playfully pushes your buttons, and before you can protest, his hands run through his hair coolly.

“Right, like how you look at me like how I look at Jeno.” It is semi-sarcastic and you cross your arms in defensiveness. Jungwoo shameless knows every person who has had your heart at one point, and has even teased you to the point of asking if he was your next J. 

He whines cutely, as he oozes every ounce of sweetness from his crevices. The dramatic pout, the puppy dog eyes, the hands pressing his cheeks together. “You caught me red handed! The condition is more for me than for you anyways.” 

The reaction he wanted is what he got when you stand speechless at your best friend’s comment. “Oh, shut up. Is it a deal?”

“Of course, my cutie pie (y/n)! You know what, I’ll stay single just so we can fulfill our pact.” Again, there is no seriousness in his happy, cheerful fun. Jungwoo is a bask in the sun, live in the moment type of person. And he sure as hell, does not think about the repercussions of his words.

“Then maybe, you can finally write about me in your little secret love letters.” Absolutely mortified, you cup his mouth quickly to avoid any other reference to your letters. You instantly regret letting him in on that secret, because honestly, you had just been giving him more ammo to use against you. 

“I told you to never bring it up!” As if you aren’t embarrassed enough, you can feel the vibrations of his laughter between your fingers. 

You are practically determined at this point, there is no way you are going to break the condition. 

You are tougher than that, you manage to get through a high school break up with your first love. You’ve rejoined a past crush, who still has the ability to make sparkles fly.

You became a guide to a lost freshman, who you’ve grown up to love. And you simply predict, that in the future, you are going to experience more hurts in greater magnitudes. 

And you’ll grow up through your experiences, but with Jungwoo right next to you. Through experiencing and learning different things about yourselves, there is no time to focus on your potential relationship with your best friend. 

So maybe, just maybe! You aren’t going to fall for your best friend and break the pact early, because you’re no sucker to Kim Jungwoo. 

However, you’re beginning to notice the small changes and even those have an effect on you. So possibly, it may be harder than you’d think. Because the one person that will be beside you through every heartbreak and passing crush, is always going to be him. 

[robron1609]

Robron Week 2021 - Day 1

Meet-Ugly + "That's not an explanation."

New Beginnings

(ao3 link)

Aaron’s eyelids fluttered like a candle in the wind, the hustle and bustle of the city pecking away at his head with a sledgehammer. The bitter taste of ale, the fruity taste of wine and all the combined spices of every spirit known to man were stagnant on his tongue as he peeled his damp limbs off the leather sofa beneath him.

He let out a dry cough and it felt like someone had shot him in the brain during his sleep. But other than that, he was as right as rain.

It took him longer than he would care to admit to remember that he did, in fact, not own a single item of furniture that had even an inch of leather on it, and he lived in the in the middle of bloody nowhere where the only thing (apart from his mother) that made him shake a leg in the morning was the bellows of Moira’s cows when their troughs were being topped up.

So, there’s that.

His brain caught up and he bolted upright, his whole face moulding into a sculpture of what, where, when, how and why. He took in his brand-spanking-new surroundings; a lavish penthouse overlooking London’s skyline, decked out from head to toe in a fusion of ultra modern and industrial pieces. Not really his style, to put it nicely. It looked like something straight off the front page of one of those overpriced interior design magazines on the top shelf of David’s shop that no one ever bought.

Aaron could only hope that whoever lived here was some bloke he’d pulled in the haze of last night, if it wasn’t then… what the actual fuck was he doing here?

When the room had stopped spinning on all its axis and Aaron was eighty-nine percent sure that he would be able to hold his vomit in if necessary, he braved the hallways in search of other life. He detoured to stand in front of a back-lit mirror that had beckoned him over, and he was introduced to his reflection. It gawked right back at him, dressed in nothing but a pair of neon yellow boxers and a Scottish flag that he was wearing as a cape. The flag was fastened loosely around his neck with a frayed shoelace and there was a big tear down the centre of it.

Jesus fucking shit. Absurd didn’t even begin to cover it.

Sweat dripped down his top lip when he heard a deep voice through the wall. He teetered around the corner until he was close enough to pick up most of the words.

“I won’t be in today.” There was a pause. “Does it fucking matter?” Nice manners, then. “Look, unless you want me hurling all over the new contact, I suggest you grow a pair and attend the meeting without me.”

Aaron gripped the glossed door frame, his clammy hands squeaking on the wood as he snuck a look at who the voice was coming from. The man was stunning. He was all sun-kissed skin, choppy blond hair, and a gorgeous mouth that dipped dramatically in the corner.

“Shit!” With a jolt, the blond dropped his phone and it landed on his face with a mocking smack.

“Sorry-”

“Why are you in my house?!”

“I’m Aaron.” No shit, Aaron.

“That’s not an explanation!”

“Sorry.”

Aaron cringed. All of a sudden he was big on apologies, apparently. Blondie was now sitting up, scratching the fluff on the nape of his neck as he shuffled out of bed and adjusted his duvet accordingly whenever it slipped below his waistline. He just glared at Aaron, waiting to hear something that made sense.

“I was kinda hoping you could tell me,” Aaron said, using all of his self-control to stop his eyes from drifting downwards. “My head’s mashed. I remember being on the train with Adam and Vic, and then-”

“Vic as in my sister Vic?”

Aaron just stood there, catching flies. “I- I dunno, I think so. Sugden?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ohhhh, Robert Sugden. Aaron finally put a name to the face and felt like giving himself a pat on the back.

…..

“Here you go. Extra strong.”

"Ta."

Aaron warmly accepted the cup of coffee, the steam flying off it and dissolving in his pores. He used the piping hot liquid to swamp down some paracetamol before tightening the strap on the dressing gown that Robert had lent him a little earlier with a side-eye and a grumbled, “Make sure you give it back.”

With the current cycle rumbling the machine into the ground, Aaron glanced at the digital timer displayed on the appliance. Just forty-eight minutes until he could grab his screwed up clothes, slap them on, and leg it to the underground with his tail between his legs. The longest forty-eight minutes of his life, no doubt.

Hoping to make a crack in the ice, Robert led Aaron to the scene of last night’s crime. Through the sliding doors, across the patio and up the spiral stairs, secluded in the corner and illuminated by the steady flicker of the firepit. Robert was surprised that it hadn’t burnt out in the early morning under the April showers.

The rooftop terrace was what sold this place for Robert. It was his haven, complete with everything that made his superficial heart weep. This morning, however, it looked how he felt.

He absorbed the aftershocks of his party (shards of glass littering the outdoor table, remains of finger foods welded to the deck, and a pair of nude stilettos abandoned on the bar) and sagged. Turning thirty was dismal enough without having to clean up after his colleagues. Or, as he liked to call them, a bunch of wound up, hoity-toity pen pushers who didn’t even know his middle name—just a sniff of free booze and they were squeezing into a Ralph Laurent polo that still had the label on, and patting him on back with a bout of boisterous laughter as if they were best mates.

Wow, he was in dire need of some proper friends.

Aaron propped himself up on the bar. “Bet you don’t get tired of this,” he said, looking out at the sparkling city.

“It’s a great hangover cure,” Robert said, nursing his Americano and watching the ripples dance over the surface as he lightly blew it. “It can be lonely, though,” he admitted, unsure as to why. This handsome and hungover stranger was just waiting for his ticket out of here, he didn’t want or need to become Robert’s agony uncle to fill the time, that was for sure.

“Why’s that?”

Oh. Perhaps Aaron, for one reason or another, cared. Or he’s got nowhere else he needs to be and Robert’s left him with no choice but to sit and listen because it's the polite thing to do. Aaron looked at Robert all doe-eyed and Robert wanted to stay here until he’d told Aaron every single intricate detail of his life up until this point. But that seemed a little crass.

“Don’t know, really. I just… don’t like to be alone with my thoughts, I suppose. And being up here, well, it’s a whole lot of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Aaron said. “How long have you lived here?”

"Nearly two years on the whole." Robert calculated, Aaron giving him an amicable nod in response. Robert licked the coffee froth off his lips, clearing his throat. "I've lived in London a while, though. Since I left the village, pretty much."

"And you never thought about going back?"

"I couldn't." That would mean looking back. And after the trail of destruction he'd left in his wake, that was never going to happen. They were better off without him. Or at least his Dad and Andy were. Vic and Dianne never stopped reaching out, however, offering their support through texts and unanswered voicemails.

Aaron changed the topic, sensing that Robert's internal trip down memory lane wasn't a smooth ride. "You heard anything from Vic and Adam?"

"They were both flat out in the spare room last time I checked," Robert answered. He'd been less than pleased to find them entwined together on top of the duvet, dead to the world as Adam slobbered away on the satin pillowcase like an excited dog, and Vic let out a mishmash of unconscious sounds from sniffles to whistles, her makeup crusty and her outfit dishevelled by a night's sleep in it.

"Vic had a whole itinerary planned. Some museum, Leicester Square, and then this ridiculous hipster coffee shop near the station," Aaron said with a dreary eye roll. "Even though our train leaves just after two."

"She's just excited. She doesn't come here often."

"'Suppose not."

"Anyway, I recommended that coffee shop so you better not miss it," Robert said. Aaron snorted because of course he did. "Come on."

Robert rose, perking up a bit as he stretched his arms until they clicked with satisfaction. Aaron followed in his footsteps, literally, but they stopped in their tracks, coming face to face with a rumbled Victoria.

She looked dead and alive all at the same time as she swung her phone about. "There they are, the newly engaged couple."

Robert choked on air and Aaron gave him a splash of side-eye before snatching Vic’s phone. "What are you on about?" And Aaron had to check that the digital date displayed in the top left corner of the screen wasn't April the 1st. Nope, it was indeed the 23rd. And under that was a Facebook post on his profile; a blurry, backlit photo of him and Robert flashing the camera with two rings that didn’t even match, accompanied by a slurred caption.

yayy ENGAAAAAGED! whoop whoop!! hears to many many many many many year <3

Aaron groaned, throwing his head back in sheer embarrassment when Vic grabbed a hold of his and Robert’s left hands. Sure enough, the rings were still there. “Oh my God,” she cackled, her voice like a siren in the middle of the night. “This is brilliant. A few more of those cocktails and you’d be halfway to vegas, ey?”

Robert massaged his temples, kneading roughly at his dry skin. “Whatever’s in them is lethal,” he grumbled, peering over Aaron’s shoulder as he watched him scroll through the comments and squeeze his eyes shut in disbelief at each one.

“It’s your bar, mate. You should know what it’s serving,” Aaron said. He had a point. “Let’s just pray we left it at cheap rings.”

(Aaron couldn’t even begin to fathom at what point during the party he and Robert had fled the penthouse and ended up at a jewellers of all places. Who’d thought a proposal was the perfect end to a not-so-perfect night? Who’d taken that photo? And who in their right mind was selling giant fabric flags in the early hours of the morning? It would be a miracle if he becomes sober enough to answer at least one of those questions.)

Robert pouted. “That’s a shame. I’ll cancel the tickets to Vegas, then,” he teased.

“I dunno, I could do with a holiday just to get over the shame.” Robert grinned at the younger man’s flirty tone.

“Cheers,” Robert scoffed. Aaron handed the phone back to Vic who watched the pair with a knowing glint in her eye, her head bouncing back and forth between them.

“Only joking,” Aaron said. “Could be worse.”

Vic pocketed her mobile with a yawn and tightened her ponytail. “Right, I’m gonna drag my lump of a boyfriend out of bed and start gathering our stuff. I’ll leave you two to plan the wedding of the century, shall I?”

Vic left the rooftop, her flats scuffing all the way down the metal staircase. Robert gulped down the remains of his coffee and turned to Aaron with a smirk.

“So, fiancé,”–Aaron shot Robert a fiery glare which, if Robert didn’t know any better, would leave a bruise on his ego–“I know a great place where we can get some brunch. Why don’t we ditch Vic and Adam and I’ll drop you off at King’s Cross after.”

Aaron pulled a face. “ Brunch? I’m not paying £8.99 for a plain scone.”

“My treat.” Robert offered, hoping that would seal the deal.

“Like a date?”

“If you want it to be.” Aaron paused for a beat, not that there was ever much to contemplate.

“Fine.” Robert didn’t miss the bashful smile taking over Aaron’s face. Robert bit the inside of his cheek when Aaron began to descend the stairs. He crammed his hands in his pockets, his heart going into overdrive as he kicked his feet into gear.

[goldenlaquer]

thinkING of the childhood au + broken MC... The whiplash errryone would get from remembering a horribly kind and selfless friend to a cynical, destructive stranger with the same face?? i mean same applies to shoUYO SENSEI but the A-n-g-s-t possibilities!! imagine Takasugi having another injury added to his heart! Gin's covered up disappointment! Gojo's anger! Sakamoto being hurt when he didn't expect the person who'd never spoken a word of contempt sneering at him and diggin where it HURTS

Fine material for sad boi hours. And If MC did that super-dramatic, super-cool reunion where they interrupt a battle, materializing out of nowhere and doing that slow-motion reveal of their face, and everyone is left shell-shocked to their very core, and at their surprise, MC’s mouth splits into a twisted smile and says “Miss me?”-- 👌👌👌( I dunno, I’m a sucker for that sort of theatrics). Anyways, I think everyone would be on guard. Previously thought dead and now MC waltzes right in and starts giving out verbal lashings like it’s going out style? An imposter. It has to be an imposter. This has to be the explanation. And when they do realize its the same person, Takasugi actually lets out a bark of hollow laugh. Turns out he’s not the only one who’s become a raging beast. Gintoki suddenly feels the weight of the world come crashing down. He’s tired and dull and in a sore need of a drink, but only after he gets his explanation. Sakamoto’s heart is this shattered mix of relief, hurt, anger, disbelief, despair, and guilt. He’s a very empathetic person. He doesn’t know what MC has gone through, but he feels the hurt behind each barbed word like his own-- and it makes him so fucking sad. And Gojo... he’s looks unshaken, processing and analyzing, and holding up that signature amiable conversation on his end. He’s still looking for any clues, any sign that this might actually just be a very good imposter. There’s uncharacteristic denial running through his veins, like he’s almost afraid of what it would mean if MC is actually who they say they are. 

Gojo feels the failure deeper than MC would ever think him capable of. He’s got a knife in his chest and MC’s hand is twisting it in deeper. He doesn’t let on how much of an ouchie it is whenever MC hurls those accusations, true or false, at him. He doesn’t make excuses. But he also doesn’t apologize. Call it pride or whatever, but the way MC is, could an apology could even ease their pains or the past? For the first time, he’s left not knowing what to do or say to patch things up. There’s not a big enough bandaid for this wound. Also, Gojo laughing away the insults-- maybe its all true, maybe it’s not-- but they sure are creative as hell. 

Oh my, imagine the only being MC doesn’t mind the company of is Sadaharu because in their eyes, Sadaharu is innocent and completely uninvolved in their suffering. Of course, they stay away from Sadaharu at first (as mandated by trope laws), but the dog’s sense of MC needing comfort keeps him coming and nipping at MC’s hair. Sadaharu is, at his best, a large fluffy pillow made of clouds and cotton, and smells great on the days Shinpachi manages to tie him down for a bath. MC briefly easing their insomnia by huddling (they refuse, refuse to call it cuddling) into the warmth of Sadaharu’s chest. “Don’t tell.” They mumble, burying their cheek deeper in the fluff. “Or I’ll kill you.” And Sadaharu reacts to this threat by lolling his tongue out in an endearing doggy smile. 

I crave the character development, but less through comfort, and more through tumultuous means. Maybe MC’s gonna breakdown and breakdown hard, so tired of everything, the insults, the implacable anger and bitterness. So fucking tired. Like a snuff of a candle. They’re exhausted. They want their old life back, back when things were simpler and happier and everyday wasn’t a goddamn war against everyone else and others. Or maybe even, someone else snaps first. Yeah, there’s guilt (whether justified or not), but to constantly experience venom left and right by someone who doesn’t seem to exist for anything other than hatred and punishment, by someone who blatantly refuses to accept any sincere forms apologies, by someone who brings a constant state of misery to everyone else-- they’re tired too. Someone’s going to rip off that duct tape and lay it on straight to MC that they ain’t the only one who has experienced suffering-- dunno if its gonna help or worsen things though, depends on the person I guess. I want to turn this bitch called angst all the way up. 

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (144/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before 66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

  [3 November, Age 762.   Earth.]  

"Luffa!   Can you hear me?   This is Trunks, calling from the Time Nest!"  

"I was wondering when you'd call," Luffa said.   "I was starting to wonder if this earpiece you gave me got damaged while I was fighting Nappa."

"You did fine with him," Trunks said.   "Gohan and Krillin survived, so history is back on course, but your mission isn't over yet.   My father... Vegeta, he's still possessed by that purple energy.    You'll have to help Goku defeat him to finish the job."    

"Help him?" Luffa asked.    She had been standing on a rock formation for several minutes, observing their battle from a respectful distance.  "First of all, Kakarot seems to be doing just fine on his own.   Second, I wouldn't think of dishonoring him by interfering in his battle.     That goes for your father, too.   We may be enemies in this situation, but we're all Saiyans here."    

"Luffa, you don't understand.   Someone already interfered in this battle by altering history.    Our job is to balance the scales and put things back to normal.    I understand that you don't like the idea of double-teaming an opponent, but it's the only way to restore the timeline."

Luffa didn't budge.    Overhead, Son Goku and Vegeta were battling through the air, and their blows sounded like thunderclaps whenever they connected.    

"You weren't kidding about Kakarot's training in the afterlife," Luffa said.    She pulled a chunk of Saibaman out of her pocket and took a bite while she watched.     "He's improved a lot since Raditz.   It looks like he leapfrogged Nappa while he was at it.    And without Nappa to get in the way, your dad shouldn't be too much trouble."

"You're wrong," Trunks said, his voice growing more desperate.     "Luffa, I know how this battle is supposed to play out.    My father has an ace in the hole.    You must have noticed by now.   He's got a tail, but Goku doesn't!"

"So what?" Luffa asked.   "He'd need the light of Earth's full moon to transform into a giant ape, and the sun hasn't even gone down yet!"

"He doesn't need the moon!" Trunks cried, "he can make his own--"

"Wait a minute," Luffa said before he could finish.   "What the hell is he doing up there?"

High above, Vegeta was ranting and raving about how he was willing to destroy the entire planet to win his fight with Goku.   Luffa could sense his energy building, and he brought his hands together on the left side of his chest.   At the same time, she could sense Goku increasing his own ki to prepare a countermeasure.   But this climactic struggle wasn't what had Luffa's attention.    She floated up into the air to get a better look at Vegeta's posture.  

"Luffa, you've got to do something!" Trunks pleaded through the earpiece.   "Goku barely managed to deflect this attack before, but with that dark energy multiplying my father's power, he won't stand a chance!"

But she wasn't listening to him anymore.     All around her, the skies trembled from the intensity of power Goku and Vegeta were preparing to fire at one another, but Luffa paid no attention to this either.   She simply flew straight towards Vegeta, and just as she reached him, he launched his attack.  

"Gallick Gun!" he screamed as he hurled a column of purple light down at the Earth below.   Goku responded in kind with his own energy beam, similar to the Gallick Gun, but clearly distinct.    Luffa ignored him completely.

"Hey!" she shouted at Vegeta.    "Are you making fun of me?!"

"Wh-what?!" Vegeta gasped as he finally noticed her approach.  

Luffa held up her hands to match Vegeta's pose.   "Don't screw with me, you royalist trash!   I never learned how to do the Galick Gun 'properly', and here you are imitating my style!    Right in front of me!"

"That's absurd!" Vegeta growled.    "This technique has been in my family for centuries!   I've never seen you before in my life.   Tch!   Why am I arguing with you at a time like this?   Who the hell are you?"

"Who am I?!   I'm the lady that's gonna tear you out of frame!"

"Begone, woman, before I--!   No!   No!"

It was this distraction that gave Goku the opening he needed.   Luffa sensed a sudden surge of ki energy from below, and Vegeta's Gallick Gun was  overwhelmed.   In mere moments, Vegeta found himself on the defensive, and finally he was engulfed in Goku's bright blue beam, which launched him higher and higher into the atmosphere.

"Damn youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" Vegeta screamed.

Luffa watched him disappear into the stratosphere and extended the middle fingers of both hands to express her farewells.  

"O... okay?" said Trunks through the earpiece.  "I guess that's one way to do it."    

"So is that it?" Luffa said, finally responding to Trunks.   "Wait, is he supposed to die in this battle?    Were you born before or after this happened?"

"That isn't the problem!" Trunks said.    "He's going to roll off of that Kamehameha wave--"

"Kamayhammy-what?"

"The blast Goku just shot at him!" Trunks said.  

"Hey, don't get mad at me for not knowing all this stuff," Luffa shouted.    "You're the one who wanted me to beat up your dad."

"He's... going... to come back... and transform into a giant ape," Trunks insisted.    "You need to keep Goku alive until the others can help--"

"I keep telling you, he doesn't need any help," Luffa said.    "And neither do I.   After taking a hit like that, Vegeta won't have enough power left to... wait, what is that?"

Luffa's had once been the Legendary Super Saiyan, but her power had been severely limited after an incredible battle on Planet Nagaoka.    She had no idea whether this change was permanent, but she had resolved to carry on at least as far as she could to help Trunks.    But the problem was more than just a loss of power.    Whatever had happened to Luffa had also affected her ki perception as well.   And this was a more dangerous affliction, since she wasn't aware of it.     Vegeta rocketed back to the battlefield like a rogue comet, completely catching her off-guard.    

"You two bastards have pushed me far enough!" Vegeta roared.  "As much as the form disgusts me, I can't think of a better way to finish you than to crush you both as a giant ape!"

Luffa was surprised by his speedy return, but she recovered quickly.     "Nice try, idiot.    It'll be at least an hour before it's dark enough for the moonlight to work, and I can beat you into the ground long before then!"

"Moonlight?"  Goku asked.   Luffa knew little about the man, except that he had lived most of his life on Earth, cut off from Saiyan-kind.   She was beginning to suspect that didn't even know he was a Saiyan until his brother Raditz invaded.

"Oh, yes, you thought you were very clever, Kakarot." Vegeta snarled.   "You destroyed this planet's moon so we wouldn't be able to use it against you.    Too bad for you that I have other ways to transform."  

With that, Vegeta began to yell.   He raised his right hand over his head, and curled his fingers as though grasping at the air.    Then a globe of ki energy appeared in his hand, and he made a fiendish grin.  

"What the hell is he doing?" Luffa asked Trunks.   "He put a big chunk of his  ki into that, but he can't hit us both with one attack.   Is he trying to blow up the planet again?"  

"I already told you--" Trunks tried to explain, but Vegeta beat him to it.  

"Burst open and mix!" Vegeta shouted as he launched the energy ball into the sky.   Luffa expected it to explode, or to fly back down and attack either Goku or herself.    Instead, it diffused into the air, and a curious glow appeared...

"It's artificial moonlight!" Trunks shouted through the earpiece.   "If you look at it, you'll turn into a giant ape!"  

But Luffa already knew.   She could sense Vegeta's power rising as the Oozaru transformation took hold.   Nearby, Goku didn't change at all.   He had no tail, and he also seemed to have no idea what Saiyans could change this way.   As for Luffa herself, she could tell Trunks was still talking, and she could hear Vegeta gloating, but she couldn't make out the words over the pounding rhythm of her own heart.

Real or fake, the light Vegeta had created was all Luffa could see.     She could feel herself beginning to change.    It was that... tightness in her skin, the sensation that always seemed to come just before her body violently expanded in size.    Just like the last time.  

On Nagaoka.    

When her body nearly tore itself apart!

A chill ran through her entire body, and she made a strange noise that might have been described as a wail.   And then, just as she felt the effects of the moonlight taking hold, she shut her eyes tightly and averted her gaze.    She wasn't entirely sure of her actions.   It was like her body was acting without her.   Like dropping a hot potato before feeling the heat.    

"No!" she gasped.    "No!"  

"Luffa, what's happening out there?"  Trunks asked.  

"Nothing!    I'm fine!" Luffa lied.   She reached for the earpiece to remove it, or at least turn it off.   But her hands were trembling too badly for her to get a proper grip.   In her frustration, she fired a small ki blast at the side of her head and fried the device.    She smelled burnt hair and electronics, but not burnt flesh, so she was satisfied that she still had at least some control over herself.  

"It's all in your head, you coward!" she snarled as she tucked her hands under her shoulders.  It didn't help.   She was shaking all over now.   It wasn't just the Golden Ape transformation on Nagaoka that haunted her.    She found herself recalling the Tikosi Hiveworld as well.     There, the insectoid scientists of the Tikosi conducted cruel experiments on her.   One in particular was designed to trigger her Giant Ape transformation, only to cancel it partway.    They would turn her back and forth, or simply leave her suspended between forms.   She thought she had worked past that trauma, but Vegeta had proven otherwise.    

Not far away, she could sense Vegeta chasing after Son Goku.    Trunks had told her that the mission depended on her keeping him alive.     Instead, she found herself running in the other direction, desperate to get control over herself.    As she moved, she fired wildly in the direction of the false moon, but it didn't seem to do any good.     Vegeta's technique was a substitute for a genuine moon.    It only made sense that it couldn't be destroyed as easily as the real thing.   She crouched on the ground and cursed herself for lying down in a fetal position while she took stock of her situation.    

"Shouldn't have blasted my own ear like that," she grumbled between rapid breaths.    "But at least the other one still works.    And I can open my damn eyes as long as I keep my back to that light.    That's easy, right?   So why won't I open my eyes?    Oh, you know why not, dammit!   Dammit!"

She wished that her wife was here.    It had taken so long for her to go to Zatte when these episodes happened, and sometimes Luffa wasn't sure Zatte had been able to help much, but at least it had been better than gutting it out alone, and this was worse than just about any nightmare she'd had.   But Zatte was gone, maybe forever.    Just like Dr. Topsas, and all of her other friends, and her parents, and her son... And it wasn't difficult to blame herself for that situation.     She had been too weak, too afraid, and too unworthy, and so she had lost them all, one by one.    And now Trunks was learning that lesson just like everyone else.  All that mattered about her was the Super Saiyan, and that was over now.    Without that thing, she was nothing special, just a woman teetering on the brink of madness.  

Instinctively, she curled her tail between her legs, and felt its fur in her still-trembling hands.   In her darkest hours, Luffa had taken solace in her tail, both for the Saiyan pride it represented, and for the intensive effort she had put into training it as a child.    From a young age, she had believed that if she could overcome the weakness in her tail, she could rise above any other obstacle.   It was why she had taken such offense at Saiyans like King Rehval, who encouraged their people to amputate their tails.    She could hear Goku's agonized screams, even at this distance.    Vegeta had kept his tail, and it was clear which one of them had made the right decision.    

There was a simple solution to her problem.   Luffa could cut off her tail, here, and now, and then she could fight Vegeta without worrying about the fake moon.  It wouldn't be that difficult.   One sharp twist and it would all be over.   It would hurt, but she had suffered far worse pain in her short lifetime.    It would betray her Saiyan pride, but Luffa didn't have much of that left anymore.    Rehval had shown her just how despicable the Saiyan race could truly be, and Raditz had shown her that there were even lower depths they could sink to.    Was this why Goku and Trunks had no tail?   Had they learned the same painful lesson that Luffa was contemplating now?  

Goku's howls grew louder, and Luffa's fear began to give way to rage.   She wanted Vegeta to pay for this humiliation, and if mutilating herself got the job done, then maybe it was worth it.  And then she heard another scream.    

It was Vegeta.    She could barely sense any power from Goku at all, but he had used what little he had to fire a parting shot.    

"Hah!" she whispered through clenched teeth.    "Kakarot, you dog."

Luffa rose to her feet.    

*******

"My eye!    How dare you!" Vegeta roared.  

At the ape's feet, Goku lay broken and defeated, but still defiant.  

"Heh!    Somethin' for ya to remember me by," he gasped.    

Vegeta raised his massive paw to crush his enemy, but then he cried out in pain once again.    When he turned to see who had attacked him, he couldn't help but laugh.    

"You again!" he chuckled.    "And here I thought you had lost your will to fight, woman!    Maybe you have.   If you transformed yourself the way I have, then you might stand a chance.    But it looks like you've come here to die instead!"

Luffa pointed her hand at him, still keeping her eyes shut.   Her tail waved behind her back.   "I don't need the Oozaru form to beat you down, Vegeta," she said.    "Maybe I'll take out your other eye and finish what Kakarot started."

"You filthy scumbag!" Vegeta snarled.   "You dare to challenge me, but you're too frightened of the moonlight to even open your eyes!     When I'm through with you, I'll make what I did to Kakarot seem quick and painless!"

Luffa waved her hand to encourage him to attack.   "Kill me if you think you can kill me," she said darkly.   "It's your only chance."

He rushed towards her, just as Luffa expected him to.    The fear had not subsided, nor had the trembling in her body, but Luffa still had enough in her to keep the Giant Ape busy.   She dodged his blows, and while she couldn't see which of his eyes was injured, it was easy enough to deduce it from his movements.    Luffa made sure to stay on his blind side and fired as many ki blasts into his flank as she could muster.    

It wasn't about beating him.    She would if she could, but she knew the goal now had to be to stall him.    From Trunks' perspective, this battle was history, and it had already been fought and won without Luffa's involvement.    All she had to do was keep Vegeta too occupied to kill anyone that he wasn't supposed to.   All she had to do was counteract the dark energy that still churned inside of him.    Luffa could sense this on top of his Saiyan power, and she knew that this alien power was her true enemy.      

As she ducked and dodged, she fought to overcome her terror.    It was just like it had been with Nappa.   Each time he hit her, she felt herself getting stronger.   Against Vegeta, she doubted that she could survive many of his attacks, so she focused on mental strength instead.  Each blow he failed to land was a boost for her confidence.    

This was the wisdom she had gained from her tail.    This was why she couldn't cut it off, even now, when it made all the sense in the world.   As a little girl, she had forced herself to overcome her weakness.   Not all at once, like some brazen Super Saiyan smashing her way through entire armies, but one step at a time.    She would survive this Vegeta, and then she would overcome him, and then she would surpass him.     That was the way of her people.   Maybe they had all forgotten, but she still remembered.  

And she always would.

*******

[February 25, Age 850.   Toki Toki City.]

Luffa returned to the Time Nest victorious, but badly hurt.   In the unadulterated history, the fateful battle between Goku and Vegeta was a mismatch to begin with.   Between the dark energy amplifying Vegeta's strength, and Luffa's mysteriously diminished power, restoring the timeline had proven just as tricky.  

"I'm just glad that fat guy with the sword showed up when he did," Luffa grumbled as she wiped the blood off her face.   "Your dad's one stubborn bastard, that's for sure."

"I'm sorry.   I should have retrieved you from the time jump," Trunks said.   He reached out to help Luffa up off the floor.    

She nearly waved him off, but thought better of it and accepted his help.   It wasn't because she wanted it, but she suddenly realized how little she knew about Trunks, or this world he had dragged her into.   Helping him had been almost automatic for her, after years of diving headlong into adventures as a Super Saiyan, but the fight with Vegeta and Nappa had forced her to admit that those days were behind her, at least for the time being.   This new situation called for a more cautious approach.   She wasn't sure she could trust Trunks, but it might work to her favor to get him to think he could trust her.    

"Thanks," she said, hoping that it sounded sincere.  

"It's the least I can do," Trunks said.   "I wish I could join you on these missions, but I need to stay here in case I get a bead on whoever's behind this."  

"Don't worry about me," Luffa said.   "I may look pretty banged up, but I got a lot out of that last scrap just now.    My power isn't back to normal yet, but with a few more fights like that one, and I'll be ready for anything."

"It's not that," Trunks said.    "You were chosen by Shenron, so I know you can handle it.    It's just... well, I wouldn't mind fighting with my father one more time, even if it's on opposite sides."

"I wouldn't know," Luffa mumbled.   She had killed her own father long ago, and found the experience disappointingly anticlimactic.   She wasn't sure if she envied Trunks or pitied him.

He led her out of the Time Vault, but before they could leave the Time Nest, he heard a noise from above, and they looked up to find a large bird soaring in the upper reaches of the Time Nest.   It suddenly occurred to Luffa that the entire structure of this place resembled an enormous birdcage floating in some sort of green cosmic haze.    

Then they heard the click of heels on the cobblestone road that connected the Time Vault to the portal leading to the city, and they looked down to see someone walking towards them.   It was a woman, even shorter than Luffa, with mauve skin and coral pink hair.   Her clothes were similar to Luffa's compression shirt and baggy pants, but over this she wore a purple jacket with a yellow sash tied around the waist.   The cut of the jacket was unusual, as the lower section billowed out around her lower legs, almost like a dress.    The upper section stopped at her torso and wrapped loosely about her arms, exposing her shoulders completely.    Her neck-length hair was styled in a way that revealed her pointed ears and a pair of large yellow gems that hung from her lobes.

"He-loooooo!" she said cheerfully.   As Trunks nervously returned her greeting, she noticed Luffa, and waved to her.    

"Er, this is the Master of the Time Nest," Trunks explained.    "She's the Supreme Kai of Time, and a very important person."

As he said all of this, the Kai stood behind him and began posing and making silly faces.    Luffa had no idea how to take this.  

"Kai," Luffa said.   "I've heard about them before.   They're like the kami, who oversee different planets, right?"

"Sort of," Trunks said.    "Only the Kais are on a level above that.     And the Supreme Kais are higher still.   She manages the flow of time throughout the entire universe, keeping a close eye on history and protecting it."

As he said this, the bird that had been circling above them chose this moment to alight on the Supreme Kai of Time's head.   It was at this moment Luffa noticed that the bird was  about the same size as the Kai.   Before she could ask what the bird was called, the Kai angrily shooed it off of her head and started scolding it like a child.    The bird cooed in reply, and it was impossible to tell if it understood her words or not.  

Luffa looked at Trunks, who seemed even more confused, if such a thing was possible.    

"Well, like I said, she's an important person.  Just trust me..." he said with an awkward chuckle.  

Luffa shrugged and nodded indifferently.    When it became clear that the Kai was no longer paying attention to them, Trunks resumed escorting Luffa to the city.

*******

Luffa's second visit to the hospital was much shorter than the first.   The Namekian healer, Pulmon, rejuvenated her just as quickly as before, and this time she didn't need to sleep.  After her discharge, she and Trunks began to roam the walkways of Toki Toki City

"I'm still waiting to hear back from Admin about your quarters," Trunks said.   "It's probably going to take a while to get you back home.   The Dragon Balls won't reactivate for at least six months, and that's assuming we won't need them for some other crisis."  

"Don't worry about it," Luffa said.   "I... I don't really have any pressing business waiting for me.   Besides, I can always take a spaceship."  

"We, uh, don't really have those here," Trunks said.  

"You can travel through time, but not space?"

"Pretty much," Trunks said.    "The Supreme Kai of Time created Toki Toki City as a base for the Time Patrol.   Most of us are from Earth, and Earth is pretty isolated from the rest of the universe."  

"That's pretty much what Pulmon told me about his own people," Luffa said.   "I was asking him about The Camelian Empire, trying to get a handle on how far it is from Earth, but he said he'd never heard of it."

"The Camelian Empire?" Trunks said.   "I've never heard of it either.   Is that where you're from?"

"No," Luffa said.    "I was born in interstellar space.   Never spent too much time in one place.   I lived on a few planets for a while, but none of them were what you'd call landmarks.   But Camelia's a big deal, with a lot of star systems under their control.   If I knew where that was in relation to Earth, I could get my bearings.    But it's starting to sound like this is a pretty isolated part of the galaxy, or maybe a whole other galaxy."

"We'll get to the bottom of this, Luffa," Trunks said.   "But I appreciate you helping us out in the meantime."

"Don't mention it," Luffa said.    "You've got Saiyan blood yourself.   So you know I'd go stir crazy without some action.   What I don't understand is how even the Saiyans I've been fighting could be so different from the ones I know," Luffa said.  "Nappa claimed that your father was the result of generations of breeding, like he was this ultimate warrior, but he wasn't that strong.   If my ki wasn't all out of whack, I could have taken care of them both without any trouble.   So what was he bragging about?"

"Well, my father was the strongest Saiyan of that era," Trunks said.   "From what I've heard, back on Planet Vegeta--"

"Yeah, Nappa mentioned a Planet named after your old man," Luffa said.    "I've never heard of it.   It's like there was this whole other population of Saiyans completely cut off from mine, with their own kings.   Could this be connected to whoever's been changing history?"

"Hmm... Well, it's not impossible," Trunks said.  "But the temporal incursions we've been seeing are all confined to a fairly recent period, a few decades at most.  I think the enemy would have to go back pretty far to change the Saiyan homeworld.    On the other hand, I've gotta admit, I know a lot more about time travel than Saiyan history.    Wait a minute... of course!"

"What is it?" Luffa asked.    

Trunks drove his left fist against his right palm as he spoke.    "I should have thought of this before," he said.   "We have a research division in the Time Patrol.    One of them could probably clear this up for us.    They might even be able to track down some planets you're familiar with."

"Perfect," Luffa said.    "Where do we find these guys?"

Before Trunks could answer, there was a beeping noise from inside the sleeve of his jacket.    He held up his left hand to reveal a wristwatch communicator.    

"It's the Supreme Kai of Time," Trunks said.   "She must have discovered another change in history."   He touched a button on the face of his watch and said: "This is Trunks.    Go ahead."

"What's the big idea walking out on me while I was dealing with Tokitoki?"  replied the agitated voice on the other end of the call.     "That's extremely disrespectful, you know!"

"I--!   I'm sorry!" Trunks said.   "I just... it seemed like you were busy, and I needed to see to Luffa's injuries and--"

"What sort of example does that set for a new recruit, huh?   Did you even think of that?   Look, just get back here, okay?   I need to show you something!"

"R-right!" Trunks said.    He switched off the transmission and hung his head.   "I need to go," he said with a sigh.  "It sounds like something important.   At least, I hope it is..."

Luffa began to crack her knuckles.   "If it's another mission, that suits me just fine," she said.   "I need to blow off some steam."

"No, if she didn't want me to come alone, she would have said so," Trunks said.  "And this might just be a waste of time.    You can talk to someone at the Research building while I handle this."    He pointed to a box-shaped building in the distance.    "Number 731.   You can't miss it.    Just tell them I sent you.    You can find me at the Time Nest when you're finished."    

With that, he turned and ran, leaving Luffa by herself.   She shrugged, and made her way to the structure.    As she approached, she stared at the large glyphs on its wall and tried to memorize them for future reference.    

*******

The inside of the Time Patrol Research Corps building looked completely different from the high-tech exterior.    The walls were stone and ceramic tile, and the lighting was produced by a series of long tubes that hung from electrical fixtures on the ceiling.   Along the halls were wooden doors with square glass window panes.     As Luffa couldn't read the room numbers or the placards, she simply peeked into each window, looking for an unlocked office with someone inside.    When she finally found one, she couldn't see anyone through the window, but she could hear voices from within.    She took five steps inside, and discovered a man and a woman leaned up against a desk, making out.    

"Whoa!" Luffa said as she averted her gaze.  

"Uh!    Can I help you?" the man blurted out awkwardly.  

"Right!  Yes!" the woman added.   "Can I help you?   Um, also?"  

They were fully dressed, but Luffa was unsettled enough that she held up her arm, as though afraid to look directly at them.    "I... I need a historian?" she said.   "Someone who specializes in Saiyan history, maybe?"  

"Oh!  Um... well I'm a dietitian," the man said.  

"I don't actually work here," the woman said.   "I'm with maintenance.  Here to fix..."

"The wiring."  

"Right!   Yeah, the wiring.    I should... really get back to that."

"Look, I just need to know where your history department is," Luffa said, "and I'll let you get back to... whatever you were doing."

"Dewar's still here, isn't he?" the woman asked.    

"Probably.   He almost never leaves his office.   He's down in the basement.    Room Number 034."  

"Look, let's just assume I can't read," Luffa said.    She didn't particularly want either of them to show her where to go, but she didn't want to waste time either.    

"It's the room with the foil on the window," the man said.  "You can't miss it."  

Luffa muttered a few words of gratitude and shut the door behind her.   Two minutes later, she stood before an identical door in an identical hallway, only this one was underground, and the door had aluminum foil covering the window.   She could hear people talking and laughing inside.    Having lost a good deal of patience, she didn't bother knocking, and simply walked right in.  

She found an alien inside, sitting in an old leather office chair.     He looked mostly humanoid, save for a thick tail that he had threaded between the back of the chair and the seat.   His feet were propped up on a bookshelf.     They looked like the toes of a bird, or some sort of dinosaur.    His hairless head had an odd shape to it, like a nut with a slight point at the top.    And his skin was a pale blue color.     He didn't even notice Luffa's entrance.    His attention was firmly on a small video monitor that was sitting on top of a file cabinet.    

"Ha!  That's what you get, Queen Trowel!   Next time, listen to your advisers instead of cutting out their tongues!   Huh?   Hah?"

He cupped his hand over one of the rimmed holes on the sides of his head and leaned closer to the screen.    "What was that, Your Majesty?   You say there won't be a next time, because Sergeant Prunshir shot you a hundred times?     Ohhhhh!   Who could have seen that coming?    Heh heh heh!"

"Are you Dewar or not?" Luffa asked, startling the alien.  In his excitment, he dropped the box of snacks he was holding.    

"Holy crap," he yelled, gasping at the chest of his tank top.   "Oi, what's the big idea?   The sign on the door says 'Do Not Disturb', doesn't it?    Can't you read?"  

"No, I can't," Luffa said.    

"Oh."   He put his thumb on his chin and considered the door behind Luffa.   "Maybe I should look into a pictogram.    Something with a picture of a guy knocking, because apparently nobody knows how to do that anymore!"  

"Oh, I know how to knock," Luffa said, "I just don't care.   I need a historian.   Trunks sent me here."

"Trunks?!"  he asked.   "Welllllll now, this just got very interesting.   The big shot Time Patrollers don't usually call down here for us little old researchers."   He reached for a holster that was lying haphazardly across his desk, and as he stood up to wrap it around his waist, his tail snaked into one of the desk drawers and produced a pistol.    

"What's the gun for?" Luffa asked.

"What isn't it for?" Dewar said as he held it up and admired the craftsmanship of it.   "I'm nowhere near as strong as Trunks, but I've done a few field missions from time to time.   Never let it be said that Dewar, pride of the Research Corps, can't hold his own in a fight.   But it never hurts to have a little insurance, eh?"

"Pride of the...?   They stuck you in the basement," Luffa grumbled.   "Look, this isn't a field mission, at least not yet.   I just needed to pick your brain for a minute."   She pointed at the monitor he had been watching.    "Maybe you can pull up some images from history, like whatever you're working on here."

"Oh, that?" Dewar said with a chuckle.   He reached out with his tail and pressed the "off" button with the very tip.    "This is just a TV set.  I was watching some old dramas from Ryno VII."  

Luffa put her hand over her face and shook her head.    

"What?" he asked.   "It's an important window into their culture!"  

"I need to talk to someone about Saiyan history," Luffa said.  "Do you know anything about that?"

"Saiyans?    Wellllll now, the plot thickens, eh?   Let me just get my notes and I'll join you both at the Time Nest."  

"No," Luffa said.   "Just you and me.  For now.   I mean... Trunks has a lot going on, right?    No need to pull him away from what he's doing."  

"Hmm, I guess he is a pretty busy guy.    Fine, where's your quarters?"  

"I don't have a room assignment," Luffa said.  "I don't know what the holdup is."  

Dewar threw his hands up.   "Those dopes in Admin!" he said.    "Always taking their sweet time.    Looks like I'll have to bail them out again!"  

Before Luffa could ask what he meant, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a  device that looked like a large pen.    He then powered up a computer terminal in the corner, and plugged the pen into an access port on the side.    

"What are you doing?" Luffa asked.  

"Admin goes through all these silly algorithms to assign living quarters," Dewar explained.   "It's all a lot of nonsense.   Somebody tried to rig it to match roommates by blood types, which only slows things down.    Fortunately, I, er, acquired a master access fob a while back.   Oh, I told myself I'd only use it in an emergency, but the bureaucratic wheels turn so damn slow, and there's so many poor souls like yourself who cry out for help.   I can't just leave you on the streets, now can I?    What did you say your name was?"

"Luffa," she groaned.  

"Ah, nice name.   Haven't heard that one before, but very Saiyan.     There we are!   See?  Now this was exactly what I was talking about.   They've got a dozen openings, but they're waiting on results from some personality quiz that you probably didn't even know you were supposed to take!   Wellllll now, I'll just fix that.    Favorite food...?  Cup noodle, of course.    Tree you identify with...?   Redwood sounds good."

"What's a redwood?" Luffa asked.

Dewar shrugged without looking up from his work.    "Never seen one before, but I'm guessing they're red.   And... blood type is XJ3.    A minute to process the data, annnnnnnd...  Bingo!"

He snapped his fingers and looked back to Luffa.    "Piece of cake!   Come on, Luffa, let's take a look at your new home at..."  He looked back at the screen to read the address, and his mood quickly deflated.   "Oh... oh nooo..."

"What is it?" Luffa asked.  

"Er, nothing!   Nothing to worry about!" he said cheerfully.    "I just noticed that you've got a roommate!   Nothing to worry about.   I'm sure you'll get along just fine.    Jayncho's a little anti-social, but once you get to know her, she's a really nice lady!   Heh heh!   Uh... yes."  

He shut off his computer and gestured for Luffa to follow him out of the office.   As she followed, Luffa noticed that he was still carrying his sidearm...

NEXT: Fitting In.

[rosaline-kei]

Under My Wing - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Boruto/Naruto nor the characters.

Fandom: Boruto: Naruto Next Generation.

Parts: 「1」 , 「2」 , 「3」

Chapter 3′s Title: Kakashi vs Sarada.

Synopsis: After her father had taken up Boruto as his student, Sarada began to feel a little... at a loss. Sure, Sasuke still teaches her some things, like how he taught her that Fireball Jutsu. But unlike to Boruto, he isn't her fulltime mentor. And now, she doesn't know who to turn for guidance in mastering her Sharingan. That is, until the Sixth Hokage came along. (Might contain Manga Spoilers)

Rated: T

Pairings (To note: Romance isn’t the main focus, though. But there will be some pairing moments): Boruto Uzumaki/Sarada Uchiha , Sakura Haruno/Sasuke Uchiha , Naruto Uzumaki/Hinata Hyuga

Read it also on / Leave a Review at:

Ao3 or FF net

Author’s Note (READ AFTER READING CHAPTER):

I made some minor changes in previous chapters; nothing too severe but re-read it if you wish. Thanks for reading this! I hope the fight between Kakashi and Sarada wasn't shit. I'm not good at writing fighting scenes. I didn't mean to make Sarada weak! Albeit, I do believe she still has lots to learn. 

I also hope I didn't get any Naruto/Boruto information wrong… if I did, please inform me, and I'll make changes right away! Please Leave A Review! (either here, personal message or on the fanfic webs stated above^^) Constructive Feedback would be nice :)

-

Now then." Kakashi said as he stood up, stretching his arms as he walked towards the spacious training ground. "It's still early. And there's one last thing I want to assess you on now that I know your mind has been cleared a bit."

Sarada quickly stood up after. "S-Sure…" She stuttered, "What is it…?"

"It's nothing too difficult. It's to help me get a closer assessment of your current skills." He had said, and as he got into a fighting stance, Sarada could've guessed what it was, but she didn't think for it to be true until he told her. "It's combat. Treat me as the enemy, and don't hold back."

---

The next thing Sarada knew, the sound of Kunais clashing against one another began to reverberate loudly around the forest.

Don't hold back.—his words were reverberating in her head too.

She wasn't holding back. She didn't plan to. Her opponent was the Sixth Hokage—who now decided to be her sensei—and the last thing she knew she should do was to underestimate him and the last thing she wanted was for him to underestimate her. She was going to give it her all.

Not to mention, after the mess of her earlier Kunai and Shuriken throwing demonstration that she had showcased to him caused by her troubled thoughts, she felt a great urge to prove herself to him. Especially now, when her mind wasn't as clouded as before.

Kakashi could tell this. He could tell she was no longer as troubled as before in regards to her clan and her Sharingan. After all, her movements and retaliations were smooth and quick. There was absolutely with no hesitation. And for one reason or another, it reminded him of Sasuke during his young Genin days.

He never really held back.

Sarada had activated her Sharingan from the start of her fight, and with each strike and counter that Kakashi shot at her, her eyes would absorb and analyse more information. They would search for openings. A chance to strike.

An opening… She thought as she blocked his strike. I need an opening. And her eyes widened when she finally spotted one. At his arm.

Over there! She thought. Without a moment to lose, while one of her hands busied with preventing Kakashi from landing a strike, her free hand reached in her back pocket, drawing out another Kunai as she swiftly swung it to his opening spot.

Or to what she thought was an opening.

"Nice try, Sarada." said Kakashi, who at the same time took out another Kunai as well to block hers. Sarada didn't even see that coming, her eyes had been too focused at only the opening. And now she was faced with the consequence of having to hold back both his Kunais.

Kakashi watched her Sharingan eyes shoot a glare at him, and he couldn't help but scoff. And to think she was all nervous and flustered earlier when I said I'd become her personal sensei, he thought with a sigh. Then again, I did tell her to treat me like an enemy…

He briefly thought back to the time when he had conducted the Genin test for her batch at the academy. At that time, he didn't manage to have a one-on-one with her unlike Boruto. And unlike Boruto at that time, he could tell she wasn't taking her opponent for granted.

But even so, she still has ways to go… He wondered. Anyway, it's about time she—

Kakashi quickly cut his thoughts off the moment he noticed the young girl's glare intensify. He immediately lifted his leg up to give her a kick to her chin, only for her to dodge and retreat back.

"Were you about to trap me in your Genjutsu when I got close enough?" Kakashi asked as he noticed a fleeting look of disappointment cross her face. "You've got to be quicker, and less obvious of your next move for that matter." Having battled previous Sharingan wielders, and having previously owned a Sharingan, it hadn't caught him by surprise when Sarada tried to pull off a Genjutsu on him. Not when they were trapped in that position where their Kunais trying to hold the other off, when she was close enough to meet his eyes.

Sarada remained silent, gripping both her Kunais tightly. She was thankful that her eyes saved her from that ruthless kick of his, but was upset that she wasn't able to use them to get him under a Genjutsu.

"You have to remember, your enemies might know that you're an Uchiha, a wielder of the Sharingan. And if those enemies are skilled, they'll be even more cautious and prepared as compared to me when encountering you and your eyes—the ones famous for a Genjutsu." He told her, "So be more subtle. It wasn't a surprise for me when you tried to use it on me earlier when I was somewhat trapped in that position."

Before Sarada could've had the chance to mumble a word of acknowledgement in regards to his advice, a few Shurikens came flying towards her face.

Unhesitatingly, she took out a few Shurikens of her own, throwing some at the ones approaching her to deflect them while dodging the others as she charged towards him.

To think she was struggling earlier to aim them properly with both her eyes opened and focusing on her target. Kakashi pondered, now her gaze doesn't even linger more than a second at the Shurikens flying towards her before dodging or deflecting them.

While charging towards him, Sarada began to weave some hand signs. "Lightning style! Lightning ball!" And the next thing Kakashi saw was a large lightning ball hurling towards him.

So she knows lightning style? He thought to himself, his hands already weaving signs to formulate a Jutsu to counter. Then teaching her that shouldn't be difficult.

"Earth style! Mud Wall!" He exclaimed once he finished weaving all the signs. A large mud-wall came rising from the ground, blocking the Uchiha's lightning attack. Albeit, it crumbled a little from the impact.

On the other side of the wall, Sarada was already preparing for her next attack as she ran towards where Kakashi supposedly was.

Don't hold back, he had to her.

But she did wonder, was he holding back? It wouldn't surprise her if he was. Even she, herself, was aware of the fact that she still had more to learn, more to master. There was absolutely no way she could beat him now, not at this stage, right?

Even with the Sharingan, she had learnt throughout all her missions that it wouldn't necessarily give her an edge. Not to mention, she was still stuck with one tomoe. After two years, she was still stuck with one in both her eyes.

She pushed those pestering thoughts aside before they could spread and cloud her mind once again. "Don't think about that now, Sarada…" She mumbled to herself as her hands rapidly weaved signs, "Just give it your all!" Upon reaching the other side of the wall, she was about to release her Fireball Jutsu that her father had once taught her, but stopped when she realise he was no longer there.

Damn it! She cursed in her mind as she turned to her left, seeing a familiar figure in a distance getting smaller as he jumped onto the trees leading west. Not wanting to lose him, she went for the chase.

Even if she was aware of the high possibility that she wouldn't be able to beat him this time round, she was still filled with the fiery spirit of not giving up, not wanting to lose.

---

It had been almost two minutes since Sarada began chasing him, and she still couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why he was running away from her.

He wasn't exactly in a vulnerable position so as to retreat, so that reason didn't make sense. Was he leading her into a trap? Or was he just trying to wear her and her Sharingan out? Or worse, was that just a shadow clone to trick her?

She couldn't tell, but decided it was best to remain a fair distance away from him for now until she could formulate a better strategy.

Leaping from branch to branch with her guard up, she reflected back to the earlier fight she had with Kakashi. To say that he was skilled was probably an understatement. Even with her Sharingan, it still took quite an effort and time to finally spot an opening.

There wasn't much to observe from his fighting style and technique with the Kunai that he displayed earlier. She thought, quickening her pace just slightly when her target did. He dodges and strike whenever he sees an opening… I don't see any pattern so far.

She pondered on briefly if she should use her Fireball Jutsu now, before he had the chance to pull any tricks on her. The forest was dark after all with all the large trees and its leaves blocking the sun —a great setting for him to pull something—and it wasn't getting any better as they ventured deeper into the woods. Plus, given the fact her Fireball Jutsu had improved to a great extent, there was possibility that its large flames could force out wherever the real Kakashi was hiding if the white-haired man in front of her turned out to be a fake.

At the same time, she knew she also had to factor in the other possibility that he was expecting her to use the Fireball Jutsu that he wanted to trap her.

He was the Sixth Hokage. The Ninja who became Chunin at the age of 6, and Jonin at the age of 12. The Ninja who had an especially important role in the great ninja war, so she heard.

And he was a Sharingan user who was also once both her parent's sensei. He knew her eyes' weakness, and maybe even an Uchiha's weakness at that.

It was risky to use the Fireball Jutsu now—Sarada was aware of that. But she wasn't sure what other options she had left. She could throw her Shurikens and Kunais at him, but she knew he'd be able to dodge them all. She could follow him to wherever he was going, but she didn't want to become a hunter turn prey if he were to lead her successfully into a trap.

I might as well force him into a fight, she thought. I need to see if he has any other weakness. Running isn't going to solve anything… and it's too late to hide myself…

"Sometimes you just got to leave it all to chance!" For one reason or another, Boruto's voice began to chime in her head. "Ya know, play it by the ear!" At that time she refused to ever become a person like that. A person that "played it by the ear". But in her years of training, she came to learn that there were times where it was a must to take uncertain risks.

"Tsk." She clicked her tongue agitatedly, her hands already moving on its own. I hope you're right, Boruto.

When Kakashi suddenly jumped off, and down from the branch, Sarada unhesitatingly followed after. Confidently, she exclaimed. "Fireball Jutsu!" before blowing out fire towards her sensei's direction.

Only for him to counter back with water.

"Water style! Water wall!"

Eyes widening, Sarada swiftly managed to catch her balance, landing on the lake itself as she focused her chakra on the soles of her feet. Steam began to emerge from the water and fire colliding.

There's a lake here?! He was leading me… damn it! She cursed as she shifted her legs a little on the water, readying herself for the next hit as she got into a fighting stance. I should've been more careful… no, if only I could have made up my mind quicker then maybe I—

Her thoughts were cut off by the sudden sound of buzzing, of electricity. It didn't take her long to figure out what Kakashi was planning—especially when her pair of Sharingan eyes caught sight of the water droplets falling around her after that water style counter.

She had been lucky enough to get herself away from the water in time and back on the land, before the lightning—that now used the droplets of water as its medium to conduct its flow—could electrocute her. If it hadn't been for my Sharingan I…

She bit her lip in agitation. It didn't take her long to figure out that she had fallen prey. Perhaps it had been carless of her to listen to Boruto's words, but the more she thought about it the more she found herself blaming herself for her earlier indecisiveness. If she had made the decision earlier to use her Fireball Jutsu when she saw Kakashi, then maybe she'd have some chance.

She hated this. This wasn't like her at all, and she knew that. Even after clearing her mind and erasing her troubles so she could truly showcase her abilities to her new sensei, she still found herself at the losing end and she hated it.

Was it because she was nervous? No it's not that.

Was it because her worries from before were creeping back? No it's not that either…

Or was it just because she was weak?

She bit her lip tighter at the mere thought of that. She didn't want to be weak. How can she be the Hokage if she was weak?

That aside, she didn't know how long this was going to last. Granted, she still had a fair amount of chakra left, but if he were to put her in a spot where she'd be forced into something exhaustive, she wasn't sure if she could hold up.

There must be something. She pondered, her hand clenching into a fist. I…

Her eyes trailed to her clenched fist, and that's when it hit her.

That's i—

Her thoughts were cut off when her eyes caught sight of something bright amidst the steam, hurling towards her. She recognized it in an instant. A Fireball Jutsu. She had anticipated this, of course an ex-Sharingan user would've used this famous Jutsu before. And fortunately for her, she had a perfect counter in mind.

Automatically, her hands weaved signs that her eyes had memorized earlier. In a second, she instantly exclaimed, "Earth Style! Mud wall!" And the ground rose to become her shield before the flames could scorch her skin. She wasn't sure how well it would hold up, it had been her first time attempting something earth-style related. If only I knew some water-styled Jutsus… she sighed.

This will buy me some time for that, at least. She thought, before fleeing. This has to work.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall, Kakashi's Fireball had penetrate her mud wall for the most part. Quick reflexes, he thought as he noticed her disappearance. Albeit, it didn't really faze him so much. Well, it's my turn to find her.

---

As Kakashi ran in the forest in search of the young Uchiha, he reflected back to the skills she had showed to him. And unlike Sarada, he didn't think any less of her despite the fact she hadn't landed a successful hit on him. There had been a few close calls, though.

If anything, he saw good potential in her—A Shinobi potential— a potential that was maybe even more than what he saw in Sasuke back in his young Genin days. And this was mostly because unlike her father back then, her heart wasn't corrupted with hatred to the extent it'd blind her from making the right choices. She wasn't seeking revenge. She wanted to become Hokage. Even if she were to find out about her clan's dark past, he doubted she'd be consumed by the Curse of Hatred, right?

After all, she was Sakura's daughter—and that pink-haired woman had nurtured her with so much love during her father's absence. And when he had returned back home, a father's love was what she received.

As of now, he wasn't worried about this Uchiha in regards of her straying away from the Will of Fire. The only thing he was worried so far was about her opinion of herself. He hoped she wouldn't beat herself too much over this, if she were to lose to him.

She was only thirteen, and she still had many years to grow and nurture her strength.

For all he knew, she could possibly surpass Naruto—who she seemed to look up to as she walked the path of the Hokage.

He was aware that while the vast majority of Konoha had forgiven Sasuke and his sins, there were a few who were still sceptical, but kept their silence due to their respect for Naruto. As for the villages outside of the leaf that had been either indirectly or directly affected by Sasuke's past mistakes, he wasn't so sure.

On a different note… I wonder how far she ran off to… He thought with a sigh, I could be reading Icha-Icha while I search for her. Then again, I've reread it so many times that I practically have that whole series memorized…

The faint rustling sound of the trees had cut off his thoughts, and had made him halt in his chase. He took a glimpse at his surroundings. "Come out." He said nonchalantly, as he leaned against one of the tall-standing trees. "I know you're here." He spoke, "There's no wind blowing here blowing the trees after all."

And the next sound he heard once again was the clashing of Kunais. Upon having her hiding spot exposed, Sarada had left the camouflaged space provided by the large leaves of the trees, and shot herself towards Kakashi's back with a Kunai in one hand—only for it to be countered with his own.

"If the wind had been blowing, you might have caught me off guard. Be more careful next time." He commented as he swung his Kunai towards her, for her to only dodge and attempt a retaliation. She didn't reply, her eyes that flashed her Sharingan only focused on the Kunais that battled one another. She thought of placing him under a Genjutsu, but it was a struggle given how fast he was moving, how fast he was retaliating.

Kakashi didn't hesitate to bring up her sudden change in style, "Your fighting is becoming a little hasty." He remarked. "Just like how Boruto was during the Genin exam." He sighed, recollecting how that child was brimming of overconfidence. Although, he sure he wasn't so hasty anymore, right? It had been two years after all.

"Don't compare me to—" Kakashi's abrupt kick to her stomach that had sent her flying towards the tree had cut her off. "Don't just focus on the Kunai." He spoke.

"T…Tsk…" She clicked her tongue agitatedly, rubbing her eyes a little as she forced herself to stand up. And right before her eyes, Kakashi had vanished.

"Where did he—"

"Earth style! Head-hunter Jutsu!"

"What the—?!" was the first thing that left Sarada's lips when she felt something wrapping around her leg, and a loud yelp soon followed after when that something pulled her down into the ground, leaving only her head on the surface.

"You're suddenly being quite careless, Sarada." Kakashi said, emerging from the darkness as he walked towards her, looking down on the Uchiha who had a familiar look of frustration like her father when he had gotten trapped too. "You were doing well at the lake earlier… I—"

The smirk that slowly grew on her face had cut him off, raising some suspicion. However, before he could've gotten the chance to react, he heard an awfully familiar voice shouting. "Don't underestimate the Uchiha!" Another Sarada came forth towards him, and the buried one disappeared. It had been a shadow clone.

With her fist clenched, Sarada aimed her fist at the ground. Mama, give me strength. She thought silently.

And once her fist came into contact with the ground, everything came falling, breaking, and destroyed— all with one monstrous punch.

Small dirt and dust particles floated and filled the air. Even if Sarada was sure that that punch to the ground definitely caught Kakashi, her guard remained up as she walked through the dust, avoiding the new large cracks on the ground that her fist had caused.

Taking a few steps forward, she spotted Kakashi lying on a tree that had fell due to Sarada's punch and its impact.

"You got your mother's strength alright…" He groaned, briefly recalling the time he nearly suffered Sakura's fist, directly. Nearly. And now here he was, facing the impact from a 'Mini Sakura'. He slowly sat up. "Honestly—"

Sarada—or rather, her Kunai—had interrupted his reply, with it nearing his neck. "Had this been your plan along?" Kakashi queried, shifting his head backwards away from the knife, to only be stopped from going back any further by the tree behind him. "You told me not to hold back." Sarada responded calmly, her grip tightening on her Kunai slightly. Despite her 'victory' she didn't seem too overjoyed. Something just felt off.

Taking a risk, her Sharingan eyes glimpsed towards her right a little, and widened in fright.

No—!

She turned, about to counter, but to no avail. Her Kunai flew in the air briefly before dropping down a distance away from her on the ground. And now, it was Kakashi's Kunai against her neck.

The one behind her had been a shadow clone. And she had spotted and sensed the real one's chakra a second too late.

Carefully, Sarada quickly reached for her Shurikens in her back-pocket, only for Kakashi to take a step back and spoke, "That's all for today."

Huh?

"I had enough of a close view of your abilities, Sarada." He smiled. "Besides, any more fighting, and the whole forest might be destroyed." He joked light-heartedly.

"Oh…" Sarada bit her lip slightly, as her eyes reverted back to its black colour. "Yeah…" She replied to his little joke, albeit a little sullenly.

Kakashi raised a brow. He would've asked her what the matter was if he hadn't know the answer. "You done well today." He spoke, and it was the honest truth. "I had expected for you to be a little more frazzled when facing a Jonin like myself, let alone by yourself, since for the most part you worked in teams more often to take down a criminal or criminals. However, you proved me wrong."

"Of course, there are some areas of improvement that you can still make—but you're only thirteen, and still a Genin. You will make mistakes along the way. It's natural. And once you mend those mistakes, you'll eventually be a great shinobi in due time." He assured.

"I know… it's just…" She hesitated briefly, debating whether she should lower her guard and share some parts of her vulnerability to her new sensei. Eventually, she did. She wanted to build trust with him. Plus, it wasn't like it was a mystery to him anyway. And she had already opened up to him a little earlier. "Two years, and my Sharingan is still like… this. Under-developed. Only one tomoe in each eye. If I had two… or maybe even three, then maybe I wouldn't have struggled so much in the beginning…maybe—"

"Maybe," Kakashi interrupted, as he shifted to stand in front of her. "You shouldn't reduce your self-worth to just your Sharingan, Sarada."

Sarada's eyes widened. What Kakashi said, about her reducing her self-worth to just her Sharingan, had just dawned upon her. It was as if she had just finally been made fully aware of it. But even so, that dissatisfied feeling lingering within her stayed stubbornly. And unknowingly, she expressed a troubled sort of look.

"If that had been me instead of a shadow clone, that fist of yours would've killed me." He joked, upon noticing her troubled look. His eyes had softened slightly. "You are more than your Sharingan. I know that you want to improve, especially in the areas regarding your Sharingan… but you mustn't think that it is all your power is worth." He said. "Many Ninjas who were born without gifts, have succeeded well in their life—have proved their worth. Take your mother for example."

A soft sound of bells jingling echoed around. "Remember these?" Kakashi queried, having taken out the bells he used for her batch's Genin test. "Just between us, Naruto and Sakura were successful in retrieving the bells from me. Sasuke… hadn't had the chance." From how her expression changed from troubled to surprise, Kakashi figured she hadn't expect her father to not be able to retrieve the bells when the other members of the original Team 7 could. Of course, he hadn't been there to take the test due to some… circumstances. And the reason for Naruto and Sakura's victory was because they used his beloved Icha Icha against him…

Though, she didn't need to know any of that, because that fact still stood as the truth. And although he wanted her to embrace the eyes she was gifted it, as well as have her hone its skills, he didn't want her to grow so absorbed of it to the extent where she'd go… crazy.

Before Sarada could respond, Kakashi gave a pat on her head. "You done well today. Better than the Kunai throwing you showed to me before." He praised once again, "Well, that's it for today. I'll see you tomorrow, 9.30 a.m. sharp on the bridge." With that, Kakashi left.

Sarada stood there quietly, her hand reaching out and resting to where he had patted her head, watching the Jonin disappear into the darkness that the forest provided. Her mind briefly drifted off, pondering on what life and fate now had in stall for her now that Kakashi was her new sensei.

Sensei. Another thought came crashing in. Konohamaru Sensei.

How was he going to react to this? Or had Kakashi informed him of this already? And if he hadn't, what was she going to say to him?

It was no doubt that Konohamaru had been an amazing mentor to Team seven, to her. In the two years, he had indisputably helped the whole of Team 7 in their growth of being a Ninja. She was afraid that he might think he wasn't good enough if she told him that she accepted Kakashi as her new mentor—another sensei, to personally train her. A sensei that wasn't him. Moreover, there was already another member of Team seven that had another mentor to train him, another mentor that wasn't Konohamaru.

How would he feel? Thought Sarada. About his own students and team members wanting to train with someone else too…? I mean, it's not that I look down or doubt Konohamaru-sensei… but for my Sharingan…Kakashi-sensei would be the… but will he feel sad? Disappointed with himself? About the fact that his own team, own students are looking to others for guidance…?

"I tell ya Mitsuki, Sasuke-san is tough! I'm surprised he even let me off early today." Speak of the devil.

Turning to her right, she spotted two familiar figures walking towards her direction. Boruto and Mitsuki.

"Well, you did tell him you wanted to—oh, Sarada." Mitsuki noticed, greeting the Uchiha.

"Eh? Sarada? What are you doing h—" Boruto had cut himself off, upon noticing the destruction that surrounded Sarada, the destruction that was caused by her deathly fist. "What happened here?! Did someone attack you?!"

"It's nothing. I was just training." Sarada reassured with a sigh following after as she walked past the blonde.

"T-Training?" Boruto murmured, stuttering slightly as he grimaced at the damage she caused. He internally prayed that he wouldn't have to one day face the wrath of her fist.

"Afraid?" Sarada turned towards him a little, a small smirk that had spread across her lips upon noticing his stutter. She found her mood lightening a little after playfully taunting him, albeit she didn't know why.

"Am not!" He defended.

"Then why are you being so defensive?" She pestered, taking a step closer to him.

Feeling slightly intimidated of her—or maybe more so of her fist—he instinctively took a step back. "I—"

"You two make a good couple." Mitsuki cut in, smiling a little more when he noticed both of their cheeks reddening. Even after two years… that opinion of his had always remained the same. And neither Sarada nor Boruto could think of the reason why. However, before either one retort or dispute, he continued, "Anyway, Boruto and I were going to visit Konohamaru-sensei. Since you're here, you should come along—you're a part of Team 7 after all."

Sarada's cheeks were fast to fade back to its original skin colour when Mitsuki brought up Konohamaru-sensei. She managed to not express her earlier distressed look when she had been thinking of how Konohamaru would react to this new news. "Sure." She managed to reply, a smile forcing its way to her lips.

She had to tell Konohamaru-sensei sooner or later anyway, should he be unaware of Kakashi being her new personal mentor—sensei. Plus, she did want to check on him and how he was recovering. "Let's go then."

[pixelburied]

excuse the cropped weirdly pictures; my family/pet's foster parents are great at snapping a sneaky picture of me curled into an unattractively slouched (relaxed) fetal state. which i'm self-conscious about because it's an unattractive position for pictures even tho i am quite pretty (but they are also cropped because im just also private as hell, sorry lmao). 

bonus tho: said pet is laying ontop of me, face buried in my shoulder, twitching in her sleep as we speak!

--- but anyway. onto the actual submission:

so yeah. i saw your post! i'm here to address your call for dogs. but i dont have anymore pictures of my dog, Cash. however, i do have stuff about my cat, Allegra. 

i dont have any of them together cuz Cash lives at my family's house and Allegra lives in my apartment. and we're p sure he'd try to eat her and she'd scratch the hell out of him, so we don't try to let them meet. but, just like how Cash continued the legacy of us adopting another big slobbery dog with possessive seperation-anxiety, Allegra does fit all the criteria of those same personality traits we are such a beacon for. so i hope youll accept it as comfort nonetheless

here's a story about my cat who acts just like a anxious, cuddly, and slobbery pupper. i even bought her a pet ID tag that's shaped like a bone to honor that joke lmao) Allegra: "the honorary and tiniest mastiff" and named after the allergy medication

i got Allegra just this last year. she was a stray. now, for context: there are lots of outdoor cats in my neighborhood and they all hate strangers (they aren't feral tho, they have collars). but they all avoided my old house though because of Cash. so Allegra, newly abandoned, took advantage of that safety(?) by constantly hiding out around my family's house whenever she felt endangered

before that point tho, where i vaguely realized she existed but had no idea of what her strategy had been: i knew the cats of the neighborhood would run 15 miles away at the sound of people. but i am a small bean of cliches, so i always say "Hi kitty" anyway. even if them running away breaks my heart. and on that day, i was on my way to work for the opening shift, not early per se but i had enough time for starbucks if i wanted (and i did want) and i saw the vague mass of a cat on the lawn. predictably, i went "Hey kitty". but i also kept walking to my car due to said expectation of cats running and not wanting my heart to have that little break

and allegra did run. she just ran at me, full speed. i almost kicked this sudden HURLING THING in my peripherals like a football out of fight/flight + anxiety, except i have the aim of Charlie Brown so i thankfully missed her terribly. she was purring up a storm and crying pathetically. tho she's a Siamese, so they talk (read: complain) a lot anyway so maybe she wasn't crying. i always call her talking "crying" anyway tho cuz of the whiny pitch of it so such is a moot point. the real point was: she was ridiculously friendly

then, one morning, she was especially incorrigible. she wouldn't let me go into the car without her jumping inside too and kept scenting me, my car door, and all my equipment for this art class i was going to use for my presentation. a presentation that was a huge chunk of my grade that i couldn't be late for and Allegra was going to make late for. i had to trick her into thinking i was going to run away from my car, to which she zoomed ahead to cut me off, except i had actually done a fake-out and had really ran into the driver's seat and was already starting to slowly reverse out of the driveway. she had the sense to not go after a moving vehicle, thank god. my family texted me she cried outside our front door for hours later though. my art class that semester met once a week, so it was a 4.5 hour class that started at 7AM. and even tho that day had been a presentation day and we had less than 15 students, we still went over 3 hours. she cried during all of it. i used the "free time" to make sure i bought a cat leash and a cardboard cat carrier. but when i came back, heard no crying

i tried to get one of my neighbors to hold onto her for the afternoon. i couldnt leave her in my old house; i had family members i lived with who were terribly allergic. but i swore, so long as someone held onto her for my shift, i could take her to a shelter after. she was just so friendly and obviously new here, i just needed someone to put her somewhere safe (we lived by the freeway, by a train, by the main alternative to the freeway, and by two dog parks). but nobody really could hold onto her, so i had to hope she'd show up again when i came back from work. she didn't. i left her food out anyway.

i took her to the Humane Society Shelter closest to us because they have a microchip scanner. and she did have a chip! that was completely empty! apparently, that's a thing!! the guy there asked if i was going to keep her then, and i hadn't really thought that far. i had made the mistake of naming her and thinking she was cute, and she had done the legwork of being a cuddly motherfucker who purred constantly whenever i was around

she'd only ever appear in the early morning, when i was on my way to my shift or a midterm. about a week or two passed like this with me having no idea where she was for the rest of the day. turns out, according to said allergic family members, Allegra actually never left the house. she would hide on our roof or on our back porch's clutter or in our droopy lawn plants (like our sweetgrass) to hide from the outdoor cats or other dangers (she's a smart cat who hates the sound of cars and would hide whenever any one was particularly loud)

i'm pretty sure she's plenty well-cared for tho. in fact, i'm almost positive she's a very spoiled cat. for example, i have backups of everything x2. i have one of everything in my living area and a copy in my bedroom, should i need to close her in there when allergic family members are over (i also carry all the big allergy medication brands as a back-up in case i get a visitor who forgot to take their medication, which includes me being stocked with allegra the medication lmao) and then i also have a back-up of all her stuff in my closet should anything break. i always make sure all my windows are open when i leave for class/shifts so she can have "Cat TV" since birds do fly around the area. she has a ton of toys (she has a toy box actually) and i bought her multiple hideaways (like her shark pictured here; she also has a cactus that's pretty cute). also, ontop of having a good breakway collar, her microchip now reads my information. but yeah, im still working on the money to get her one more of everything for the house we visit for the holidays so i don't have to carry everything. i do a lot of research still-- on both cats and Siamese-- to make sure i am doing everything to make her happy, since her world is just me and our apartment now

i called out for her-- i had long since started calling her Allegra as a joke, because its a name of a popular allergy medication and so much of my family was allergic-- and shrugged sadly when she didn't come out. i had just put my stuff down to get my key out when i heard a familar crybaby. turns out, she had been sleeping in our sweetgrass and i had woken her up. she ran over and i called my family to take my things inside while i used the rest of my day to get her to a shelter. i put on a cat harness+leash before trying to out her in the cardboard box. don't buy cardboard boxes from Pet Co. they're shit. she broke out of it Alien style before i had even fully reversed out of the driveway. i had to improvise her leash into a seatbelt instead

but yeah. i say my favorite gremlin is dog-like because:

she has an overbite, so she looks like she's got her lip jutted out in a pout all the time. what's dog-like about it is this makes her slobber whenever she's excited or content (and i've grown up with mastiffs, who slobber so much you need 2 rags per room dedicated to their slobber)

hesitatingly, i called my only family member that was semi-local to see if he would be okay with fostering her until i was going to move (which was less than 6 months away) because, otherwise, i wasn't going to be able to keep her. and she was definitely going to be adopted immediately. he and his wife said of course, without hesitation. they were both huge cat lovers and they were, emotionally, my closest family members; so i had kept them in the loop about my cat quest. and they had already discussed potentially fostering Allegra, knowing my request was a possibility (read: probability). he drove over from his workplace to pick her up, with his own carrier, and drove the roughly 2 hours from our house back to his

she meows when people are at the door and greets them by begging for pets

she loves shoes. she steals my tennis shoes because she loves the laces and she will try to swat at them when im tying them. her claw getting stuck and forcing me to not continue has worked to make me late multiple times. but she also will lay down around my friends' feet and rub her face against their shoes, flipflops, and toes. one of my friends likes to joke that allegra has a foot fetish. she also can and will put her face into my tennis shoes and try to sleep like that. that's my bastard baby

i visited their house about once a week. except during finals, where i didn't visit for two or three weeks since i didnt have any exams so much as i had projects. (allegra was PISSED at me when i came back, my cuddly kitty refused to come near me and would run away when forcibly placed on my lap. she even swiped at me. by the next visit, she was grumpy but happier. by the one after that, everything was back to normal) i really liked visiting those family members too; it made us even closer. though it still annoys the male how much research i do about cat-care (as opposed to just accepting everything everyone tells me as gospel). i researched even down to "how to best pet a cat". i did this since, due to said allergic family members, i had never owned a cat and therefore didnt osmosisly process how to best care for one. i've also never been fully fauthful of people's advice that's based on "This is how we've/the media always done it". my history with mastiffs showed that not all breeds are the same and that you do have experts to utilize within your phone, and they are experts over peers for a reason. so i looked up dumbass questions like "how to best pet a cat" since i'm not an expert and Jackson Galaxy and friends are right there in my phone

she wants to play constantly. she loves tug of war the most, but anything involving chase has her going at full-speed

ive spoken to fellow cat-owners and mastiff-owners about this, and i thought this was interesting: when she isn't playing, she's sleeping. which is what mastiffs and cats do. and when i get up, she follows me. which is what our mastiffs do. and while i do stuff, she sits and waits by the doorway or else walks around my feet until i tell her to sit out of the way. which is what our mastiffs do. and then i go to sit down again, and she lays down as close as she can and goes back to sleep, which is what our mastiffs do. apparently, none of my friends cats do this; their cats just, at best, wake up to watch them leave and then their cats go back to sleep in the same place regardless of if they come back

Allegra likes to sleep at the foot of my bed for bedtime, at least for a majority of it

but, regardless if my worries, allegra seems happy! she cuddles with her claws out all the time (not sticking into my skin, just out) which is a sign of contentment. she'll also use her claws to keep me in place, like a fucking seatbelt (example pictured in post); it's where her claws will dig into the furniture and i cannot get up because of her, the possessive piece of shit. but she also gives me tons of Slow Blinks of I Love You. and she always runs to greet me at the door. and it's really funny how, anytime there's guests over, she tries to make it obvious that she's my favorite over (usually through politely tapping my leg with her paw to ask and recieve pets, and then giving everyone a very Cat Surrounded By Knives grin cuz i havent petted any of THEEEMMM lmao) she's hilarious

she doesn't like to be carried unless it means she's going with me somewhere outside the house. then she's as well-behaved as a chihuahua in a purse

she licks my hands all the time. and she licks my face to wake me up (at 4AM, Allegra, go aWAY)

she loves smelly clothes. the shoe part should tell you that much tho. for our mastiffs, we would leave them a smelly piece of clothing between washes to comfort via smell. Allegra, in a similar vein, was not impressed when i bought a laundry basket with a lid (almost carrying her to the communal laundry room once was enough, thank you!)

in the same vein as the clothes: she also loves blankets too. the more Me Smelling the blanket, the better (aka she doesn't like brand new blankets until its been like. month two or three of use). this is largely because i love blankets. but she kneads them, purring, even if im not using them. and when i am, she takes my using them as an invitation for cuddles

she sits whenever i tell her "NO" like 'who me? i was not doing a bad. i am but small creature'

she asks for a daily walk. she doesn't like the idea of being an outdoor cat. she just wants walks. like, she has lived several months not going outside and has been super happy. she made it clear on her adoption day that she was done with outside. she was perfectly content with being an indoor cat! still is, in a way! i ruined it. for myself. me. i was worried she wasn't being stimulated enough, so i experimented taking her on a walk and now i have created a monster. now she sits by the door and cries until i get out her harness and leash. which she hates her harness in a "no ball, only throw" kinda way. but she has also proven hates going outside alone since she is now ALSO scared of everything (remember those outdoor cats Allegra The Stray would hide from? how they would run away from strangers?? yeah. now that she has a Person, Allegra's turned into one of Them now). yeah.. she runs the fuck away (or as far as she can with a leash) from people she sees on her walks now. and it is pretty obvious she hates cars and dogs too, because when i have walked her outside of our new complex she is too petrified to move. like, she freezes even when just being close to a street. she likes our complex's janky carpeted hallways between the apartments, and she likes the ability to hide behind my legs. being an outdoor cat is something Allegra has decided she is not a fan of. if i try to change things up scenery-wise, she always asks to go home as soon as possible and runs into the apartment if our walks turn too much into what her life was before being adopted (aka. streets/cars, lawns, people walking). she wants walks. she LOVES and BEGS for walks. but not be outside. walks. even though she still hates her harness lmao

and that's Allegra! she's aproximately 2 years old, i've had her for less than a year, and she's assumedly a purebred Siamese cat. and she's also my ESA, or Emotional Support Animal. if applicable, a cuddly and loving pet is helpful for keeping mental health more stable. in my experience of getting one, it was fairly easy to get it permitted; especially a cat because they're super easy to get registered as compared to a dog. i am lucky enough to have regular physician as my doctor that empathizes with mental health and knows it not to be her area of expertise so much as the patient+their therapist (but also i have a history of attempted treatment on my medical record since i was 16), so my getting registered was literally just me asking for a doctor's note and her giving it to me near immediately. i can't take Allegra with me to classes or resteraunts or anything, nor do i even want to, but it forces apartments/hotels to HAVE to let me board with my ESA and to do so without an additional fee. however, i don't know if that's how ESAs work internationally or even in all of the states of America, the country where i live. but it definitely helps to have someone who needs me to get up everyday, who can never trigger me, who makes me laugh with their hijinks, and who cuddles with me regardless of if i have had a good day or bad day. Allegra is especially good at her job by being especially attentive whenever i am anxious. even if it's just me getting a little bit anxious because i'm late in turning an assignment in but have logically decided it doesn't matter because the assignment is only 2 points anyway, just turn it in late and don't focus on it; and she starts patting my leg almost continuously asking for pets inbetween rubbing herself on my legs. it's why i let her get away with never paying rent. i'm really glad she chose me. we both got really lucky with that decision ♡

i don't want to assume your situation, so i won't recommend an ESA for you so much as just remind you that they exist. i hope this all helps you feel supported and encouraged to continue to find the small wonders ♡♡♡

[drkandraz]

Professor vs Lawyer vs Bear: An Analysis of Narrative Puzzle Games

Note: For what I mean by aesthetics, you can check out my FAQ page here. For what “ludic” means, use Google.

Narrative puzzle games are and always have been a rare breed. Yet they perfectly encompass the ludic aesthetic of mystery, a very prevalent aesthetic in other mediums. They deliberately deliver on the holmesian feeling of cracking a case wide open unlike any other genre. However, as I pondered the rarity of such games, I noticed the subtler mechanical differences in the genre’s three largest representatives: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Professor Layton and Danganronpa. In a large sense, they all seem identical in style at first. Yet taking a more in depth look at the mechanics, the three games deliver largely different experiences based on the themes they encompass. Strangely, the games seem to spell it out for us in some oft repeated mottos: “To turn this case around,” “This reminds me of a puzzle” and “Thrills, chills, kills!”

The Professor Layton games were originally made with the puzzles in mind; the story came later on. Therefore, the games have a traditionally dissected structure: the narrative component, and the gameplay component. The Professor Layton games are usually played for their IQ test-like puzzles, which are discovered randomly when talking to some characters or when advancing through the story. The narrative has, since the beginning, taken a backseat to the gameplay. As such, the story could be a simple saturday morning-style cartoon plot, following a holmesian figure through a fascinating mystery, while the player solved puzzles. The Layton games take the player along for the ride rather than let him be a part of the story. However, as they went on, the puzzles tied more into the story and the game could finally be called a Narrative Puzzle game.

Layton’s approach to puzzles is a lot more ham-handed than its brothers, not trying to tie them into the story or characters whenever it is not necessary. But because they are smaller in scope, they are accompanied by the need to utilise more direct deductive and inductive thinking rather than thinking by contradiction, which are more prevalent in the other two games. Unlike the other games, Layton never cares about how you arrived at a conclusion more than it cares about the conclusion itself.

Layton never aims to have that big cathartic holmesian moment, rather opting for smaller puzzles and having the larger mystery be solved by the titular character as a cutscene-type reward. That aesthetic is never aimed at throughout the series as a ludic component, but only as a narrative one, expressed through the language of film rather than game.

In the Ace Attorney series you play as a lawyer (mainly Phoenix Wright), where the main mechanic of the game is catching contradictions in witnesses’ testimonies. There is no time limit for these, only a health penalty for failing to catch the contradiction. This mechanic is complemented by investigation segments, which serve to make the player understand the case before the trial. Phoenix’s bluffing has become a running joke in the series because it is a common writing tool to guide the player’s abductive reasoning (which is not as commonly used as deduction or induction). Therefore, the Ace Attorney series encompasses the basest definition of the Narrative Puzzle game. It interweaves the plot and gameplay beautifully in order to deliver its big detective story climax, making the player feel like the Great Detective himself.

Its mechanics try to deliver on the themes of conviction and trust between lawyer and client, as well as the importance of dialectics. To do this, it is patient, with penalties to incentivise the player to be patient and thoughtful, while its visual and audio design deliver on the feeling of excitement necessary from a mystery story (Consequently, Pursuit~Cornered has become one of the most iconic video game tracks of all time). To sum up, what Ace Attorney wants to be first and foremost is fun to play.

On the other hand, Danganronpa is a game that wants you to be constantly uncomfortable. It is a game about high school students that are “Ultimates” in their fields being forced into a killing game seemingly coordonated by a robotic black and white teddy bear that claims all it wants is...Despair (And yes, it is just as all out bonkers as you imagine it to be). After each killing, the participants are forced to take part in a Class Trial in which they have to find the killer to survive. 

The game takes a lot of its mechanics from Ace Attorney, but adds its own twisted style to the proceedings: the testimonies are now all the students hurling theories, deductions and swears at each other on a time limit and the contradiction is not punctuated by an objection, but by a bullet blowing apart the words. However, HP (or rather, credibility) reaching 0 is usually accompanied by a simple “Try again?” prompt, because strangely, the game wants you to succeed. Usually at the end of the trial, you have to play a rhythm mini-game in which you argue with a participant who is desperately denying every accusation thrown their way. The feeling of unease is only made deeper by the bonds you are able to make with the other students during the free time events, who are always liable to be murdered or become murderers during the killing game. In the end, Danganronpa is a game that wants you to feel fundamentally uneasy and distrustful of everything around you, that hits you when you’re the most relaxed. It is a game whose themes of Hope and Despair come through beautifully within the mechanics themselves.

To be perfectly candid, after so much thought and consideration, I am starting to question whether all of these games belong under one umbrella. All of these subtle differences in mechanical design change the feel of the games tremendously and manage to deliver on very diverse aesthetics of gameplay, from simple fun to complete despair all on the backdrop of mystery, puzzle solving and complex plots. This is a genre brimming with storytelling potential and I am awaiting more and more quality from it in the future.

[donttellpeterparker]

Art Studio

Can you write an imagine where you live with Harrison and you’re an artist and one night he comes home late and doesn’t find you home so he drives to your art studio just to find you asleep on the floor with paint and art all over you? Thank you love!!! You’re the best❤️ -Anon

Summary: Harrison comes back from press conferences and interviews to notice you fell asleep at your Art Studio. (crappy description sorryyyy)

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 1.3k

Note: Thanks for the request Anon! Hope you enjoy :))

Warning(s)?: none? Just fLUFFFFF

masterlist (x) requests (x)

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

Art Studio

You stayed late at the art studio to finish off your painting. The Gallery was opening up in a few days and you had to hand your piece in to be hanged by 9am tomorrow. You were stressed to the max cause your creative doesn't run to a schedule but sucked it up, knowing this was a huge opportunity for you. Ever since you can remember you've always wanted your art to be displayed in art galleries. You were currently attending College, being an Art major and all had it perks. Apart for one of your assignments you got to battle it out with your other classmate for a spot for your work to be shown in the new Gallery that was opening. It was a tight race but you won but half a mark and you couldn't be prouder.

With one last brush of red pain across the canvas you could feel your eyes begin to close. You glanced over to the wall to notice the clock said it was 2:36am. Great, you were supposed to be home a few hours ago. You said to Harrison that you would be staying late at the gallery so you could get your work finished. He smiled and nodded, offering to pick you up when you were finished. You declined politely, knowing he had to be up early the next day to head to a photo shoot with Tom. He was Tom's P.A so he pretty much went wherever Tom went. It kinda sucked at first cause you missed your best friend a lot. All those nights where you guys would sit on the lounge and snuggle into each other, watching some ridiculous t.v show cuaing you both to go into fits of laughter. Attending college parties together, though sometimes those weren't all that great. 

They seemed to be for Harrison cause girls seem to be hanging off of his arm at every single one. You weren't jealous, no way you would keep reminding yourself. It was just annoying that you guys would come to the party together and he would always end up with someone else. He wasn't a fuckboy in the sense, but occasionally he would pick up a female and then tell you all about it the next day. You wanted to hurl. 

''I don't need to know about your raging sex life Haz!'' You would yell at him, trying to cover your poor innocent ears from the vulgar information tumbling out of his mouth. 

''Awww but that's not even the best part'' He would whine, wanting to continue. Why couldn't he do this with Tom? Why did he seem to always bother you with this stuff.

''She does this thing with her tongue that-'' You cut him off. 

''Enough Haz! Please! Virgin ears you moron!'' You would yell back at him, covering your ears. He would just laugh in response and stop, noticing your flushed face whenever you guys talked about this stuff. He secretly loved to do it because he always loved winding you up, he thought it was adorable whenever you got hot or flustered.  

Laughing softly at the memory you put the paint brush down. You hadn't noticed a tear had slipped so you quickly wiped it away, confused. You drew it down to you being up so late and you were exhausted and sometimes your eyes watered whenever you were overworked or tired. You looked up to your artwork and felt very proud at what you had accomplished. 

''I'll just close my eyes for a few moments..'' You told yourself, beginning to rest your head against the desk on top of your crossed arms. Only for a few moments so that you could get up and re-focus.

Harrison's pov#

I dropped Tom off at his apartment before heading back to my shared flat with Y/N. I was beyond exhausted from the very long day with press conferences and interviews. Parking my car I hoped out, walking up to the front door. I unlock the front door and walk through, noticing all the lights were off.

She's probably already asleep.

I decided to walk around the apartment, seeing if I can see any signs of her. Nothing. I began to walk over to her room, softly knocking on the door. With no response i pushed the door open slightly, noticing her bed was untouched. Shit, she must be still at the studio. Reaching out to grab my car keys I decide to head over to the studio.

~Studio

I walked into the dim light room, noticing the amount of arts and craft that littered the rooms walls and tables. I glance around, walking into a workshop where Y/N usually was. Opening the door slowly I notice a figure snoring lightly, the body leaning against the table. I couldn't help but to let out a smile. I walked into the room and over to Y/N, noticing her lips were slightly parted as she slept. I looked down to see she was wearing her 'art' clothes, the ones that were always covered in paint. Glancing over her arms and face I also noticed specks of pain coating her aswell. Holding in a laugh I gently begin to shake her, waking her up. 

She didn't stir at all. She must be really tired. 

I decided to pull out my phone and capture this moment. She was too cute not to take pictures. Sliding the phone back into my back pocket I reach over to Y/N, beginning to move her body off of the table and into my arms. She stirred slightly, snuggling closer to my body for warmth. I could feel my cheeks begin to get flushed as I picker her up bridal style. Making sure there were none of her belongings left in here I headed for the door, not bothering to close it after me. I left the studio, walking over to the car and gently put her into the passenger seat. Again she stirred but just snuggled into a more comfortable position. I hoped around and into the driver's seat and began the car, heading home. 

Once we arrived home I went around  to her side again and picked her up again. I could have just woke her up but I didn't want to. Carrying her in my arms bridal style again I head into the apartment. I put my keys onto the kitchen table, turn around and begin to walk down to her bedroom. I opened the door slowly and turned the light on. I walked over towards the bed and gently laid her down, grabbing the blanked at the end of the bed to drape over her. She stirred again and reached for some warmth. Unknowingly she grabbed my arm and tugged me closer, pulling me down onto her bed.

''Y/N'' I said between laughs. She kept pulling on my arm till I was laying down beside her. She snuggled her body into my front and let out a sigh.Deciding not to bother fighting it I stayed, wrapping my arms around her bringing her closer. She always seemed to smell of vanilla. Snuggling my face into her hair, enjoying her scent I began to drift off to sleep. To tired to care that we were practically spooning like a couple. 

~Third person

Unknowing to Harrison and Y/N the next morning as they slept through both alarms they had been caught. Tom was over at the apartment, ready to scream at Harrison for being late but stopped short once he made his was over to the open door of Y/N'S room. He let a smirk cross his features before pulling out his phone to snap a pic.

'''Not in love with her' my ass'' He said as he decided it was probably time to wake the both of you up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @cutie1365​ @luke-the-princess​ @that70skiwi​ @mang0fruitblast​ @kawaiianime03​ @fortheloveoflamp​ @jamesbuckybananabarnes​ @queen-zpidey​

A/N: Thanks for this beautiful request Anon! I had so much fun writing this omg I hope you like it :)))

[doomfisthero]

A Wolf and a Whim: A Prologue to Love

“Garu, let’s do this again sometime.”

“Yeah, let’s do it! But let’s keep it from Hammie next time.”

As Hammie pulls Garu and Champ away from their sparring, and for a while after, that brief exchange continues ringing through Garu’s head. He doesn’t think much of it at first—Champ is a great sparring partner for him, slow and strong whereas Garu is quick and agile. Their sparring is an excellent opportunity to not only understand how to fight a similar foe, but to recognize synergy in their fighting styles.

And plus, the two of them simply enjoy fighting, and that’s enough reason to keep things going.

That night, Balance throws his arm around Garu’s shoulder in his usual joking demeanor, and Garu feels dissatisfied. He isn’t sure why he would feel that way.

In the interim between missions, Garu finds his focus drawn to Champ whenever the two are together. Whether the bull is lifting his barbell with fittingly mechanical rhythm, or engaged in dynamic discussion with another, Garu thinks about him more than before.

A few days later, Champ and Garu are selected via Kyulette for a supply run, and Champ lumbers up and pats Garu on the shoulder, assuring the wolf that he’s in good hands. This time, Garu feels a rush of joy.

The question of ‘why’ plagues him as he departs in his Voyager for the nearby planetoid. He hasn’t known Champ for long, but the bull has shown much of himself in that time; his steadfast loyalty, his boisterous passion, his unending confidence, his incredible strength, and above all else his unwavering belief in justice. Like Lucky, he sets the mood wherever he goes, pulling people in and giving them strength and energy. It’s admirable, and Garu can’t deny that he feels…better with Champ around.

But this is different from Lucky. The two are similar, but there’s some quality about Champ that draws Garu’s focus in a way other than mere admiration. As Garu sets down upon the planetoid with the others, he considers what that could be.

The Rangers—himself and Champ, as well as Lucky, Hammie, and Naga—make their way into the city, and as they perform their business, Garu hangs back—a departure from the norm—and continues to think. When did his thoughts of Champ change? They hadn’t known each other for too long, but they’d been on a few missions together, and spoken a bit on the Orion. And then there was that sparring mission a short while ago…

Wait…maybe there’s something to that. They’d fought like men, almost reached a conclusion before Hammie showed up and made them hug things out. Garu’s thoughts drift to that hug, how it felt to have those arms wrapped around him (very nice, even if Champ had been a little rough). He felt good, protected…loved.

And he feels happy again.

His eyes open wide. “HUG!” Garu blurts out, forgetting for the moment where he is. Everyone gives him an odd look, and then the shopkeeper shrugs, hurls their arms around Lucky, and then the Kyurangers are walking away with everything they need and then some—apparently, Garu helped facilitate a sale.

(“Talk about lucky!” Lucky exclaims, and Garu can’t disagree.)

Later, Garu catches Champ alone by the bay as the robot loads the last of the supplies; the heavier things that no one else can move. “Uh, Champ?” Garu begins, scratching the side of his head nervously. “Can I, uh, ask you for a favor?”

Champ drops the crate he’s carrying and turns to the wolf. “It depends. I gotta finish loading up this cargo. What do you need?” He asks.

Even through his fur, Garu is certain he’s blushing, and he covers his cheeks with his paws. “Remember our fight? When Hammie made us stop and hug things out?”

“Yeah. So?” Champ grunts. “You wanna fight again sometime?”

“No—well, yeah! But, not now,” Garu stammers. “I kind of wanna…” He moans, no longer making words for a moment, then blurts out, “Will you give me another hug?!”

Champ leans back in surprise. “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

“I…I really liked the first one!” Garu shouts, going all in. “It felt really good, and I don’t know why! I just want another one! Please!”

As silence reigns, Garu covers his face with his hands, mortified. He can’t bring himself to just walk away.

Eventually, Champ makes a chuffing sound. “So that’s how it is,” he mutters. “I’m not really a hugger. Never been good at it.” He pauses, and Garu is about to hurry away when Champ adds, “Alright, fine. Let me try something. Maybe we can make this work.”

Garu pulls his hands down, and Champ is looking at him with calm sincerity. “R-really? You’ll do it?” Garu exclaims.

Champ nods. “I’m, uh, not really built with handling fine pressure in mind, but as long as I’m just touching you, it should be fine.” He waves Garu closer. “Get over here.”

Garu, still not entirely sure this is happening, wanders over to stand before the metal bull—who is so much bigger than he is, it’s never been this obvious to the wolf before. “So, I just…put my arms around you?” He asks.

Champ grunts in approval.

A bit hesitantly, Garu extends his arms to either side and brings them together around Champ’s broad waist as best he can. His claws rest on the small of Champ’s back, several inches from each other and not fully coming together, and he rests his head on the robot’s pecs. It’s about as comfortable as he should have expected—beings made of metal aren’t usually designed for comfort, after all—but Champ’s chassis is surprisingly warm, and Garu can hear the whirring and clicking of fans and computers through the metal shell.

In a less nerve-wracking scenario, Garu thinks, it might actually be soothing.

Slowly, delicately, Champ brings his arms around Garu and rests them against his upper back. His hands just barely press into Garu, enough to say that he’s holding the wolf, and his movements are unsteady and uncertain. Garu doesn’t understand exactly what “fine pressure” means, but he suspects that Champ’s sheer strength means this sort of thing is dangerous for him—or rather, other people.

Even so, the fact that he agreed to this makes Garu feel really nice. In fact, this whole thing isn’t so bad. Garu exhales slowly, and ponders the thought of staying this way forever, sinking deeper and deeper into Champ’s embrace. Leaving the rest of the universe behind and surrendering to this sense of bliss that he’s never felt before. How had he never known that anything could feel so perfect, so right?

Champ shifts in Garu’s grasp, pulling his arms away, and the illusion breaks. He pulls away as well, distracted by those strange thoughts. Why would he forget what Jark Matter did to his tribe? Or the friends he’d given his life to? Or the Kyutama he’d carried with him for so long? It makes no sense.

Champ restarts his voice box, and the sound—like a throat being cleared—brings Garu back to reality. “Alright, that enough for you?” Champ asks. It sounds good-natured, but Garu isn’t sure.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks,” Garu says, stumbling away into the Orion, lost once again to his thoughts.

Later that night, as Garu rolls around in bed, still lost to the foreign feeling in his chest, he thinks of the wisdom of his late elders, who spoke of many things: strength, family, beauty, and much more. Garu has witnessed some of these things for himself, but for many of them, he lives by their words. Through those words, Garu finds some release from the confusion plaguing his mind.

Through those words, it dawns on Garu at last that he may very well be in love with his robotic friend.

His first thoughts are to Lupus, begging for guidance and aid.

His second thoughts are, “At least Hammie wasn’t there this time.”

[buffylikescoke]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 11#6

"Oh, I don't have the willpower for this." ~ Willow Rosenberg.

I love "Back to the Wall"! Although nothing particularly shocking happens in this issue, it captures the style of classic Buffy episodes perfectly. Action, dialog, characterization - this is 100% pure Buffy the Vampire Slayer! I recommend it!

The issue opens with another one of those disgustingly sweet scenes with Buffy and Spike being all coupley and in love and I have no idea what Spike's referencing either, yes, laugh at me, I'm a cultural plebeian. After the seemingly obligatory kissage Buffy meets Willow who still has doubts concerning the draining of the Wiccans. Buffy reassures her that she's doing the right thing and goes out to patrol the camp. This is where ogre and his gang ambush her. I love this fight scene - it's dirty, it's brutal, the "Helpless" reference is awesome, Buffy looks ridiculously hot and ogre's gang, half of which Buffy ultimately slaughters, is interesting visually, look at that octopus...land octopus...no, that doesn’t sound right, a tentacle demon, just like in my Japanese hentais, perhaps? You know what, land octopus demon it is. And peeper was cool too! Anyway, I like that Ogre's plan is sound ( poison and ambush ) and that Buffy doesn't just decimate the attackers effortlessly. She, of course, wins and survives but still gets some serious shit kicked out of her! In the end slayer defeats the ogre and makes him spill the beans. We learn that the ogre works for the guards. Buffy promises to keep quiet about it if he stops cooperating with them and tells Buffy everything he knows about the project the crews work on. Ogre doesn't know much, apart from the fact that it's about combining science and magic. You know what I want to know? Whose idea was it to try to kill Buffy? Ogre's or the guards?

Meanwhile, Willow, dressed in an absolutely gorgeous black dress, is draining magic out of the Wiccans so they can go home. This scene provides the context to Willow's doubts expressed earlier. "Goddess, did you see them? Their eyes...like something's been snuffed out", mentions Calliope. You want my take on this? I understand Willow's doubts. The magic is a natural part of a person and taking it like that? Kinda barbaric. However, it was the Wiccans’ decision and when you consider that some of them have kids and families outside of the camp, it becomes quite understandable. Not everybody needs to be a martyr for the faith, right? I think I'm with Buffy on this, it is right-ish. Not every Wiccan decides to go through with the process though, Calliope being one of them. I don't think I could bear that. But I also couldn't survive in here if it wasn't for you. Willow..., she says and kisses our witch. Willow, as you would expect, kisses her back, H.G.O.G.A. ensues and...no, that's not what happens. Willow actually stops her. Calliope assumes that Willow's just tired after draining all that magic but Willow's quick to babble out an explanation - It's not that. You have a girlfriend...whose name escapes me at the moment...and I really like you, and draining their magic doesn't make me weaker, it makes me more energized, and I have to control myself and--look, maybe you should just go, okay? Obviously, I'd prefer kisses and gay love but this outcome is fine too as, in my opinion, it displays growth. Also, the part about energizing is interesting, I guess the witches that wanted to drain Willow's power in season six weren't exactly doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, huh? Anyway, Calliope takes the hint and goes away, but a minute later somebody knocks on the trailer door. It's just Buffy, however. A limping, bleeding, beaten, still poisoned, using-the-scythe-as-a-cane, positively trashed Buffy. Willow patches her up and uses the extra magic to heal her wounds. I love that scene! Willow's usually the character that tends to Buffy's wounds and this is one of those nurse Willow scenes. Also, remember the opening scene from "Killed By Death" ( who came up with this title, seriously, I know that it makes sense in context, but come on, killed by death? ) where Buffy's patrolling when she really shouldn't and Willow's kinda miffed about Buffy's insistence that she's OK when she's barely standing? This scene is quite similar - you are not fine. sit. rest. Let nurse Rosenberg take care of you. It's funny and cute, possibly subtext-y if you're into that sort of thing. Buffy tells Willow about the science/magic project and they decide to learn more. Problem is, even though Buffy can access the work areas outside of the camp and spy to her hearts content, she can't figure out what's being done because she's a magically-illiterate dumbass. I told you Buffy, learn magic, just the essentials, for goodness' sake, learn how to float a stupid pencil at least! Willow could figure it out but since she can't leave the zone the gang needs to get creative.

Time for a plan! Here's the sitch. The force field blocks any magic from getting through. Even teleportation energy. A separate spell blocks any dimensional doorways or gateways being opened in here, explains Willow. However, as Buffy points out, the field is being opened to let the workers, and Buffy, through the gate. Problem is, there are sensors near the gate that detect any magic passing through. So Scoobies play it smart! Next morning, Spike walks Buffy to her work. Yes, during the day but in protective clothing . Buffy and Spike pretend to have an argument, yes, pretend, how will the haters even recover, in order to, using, dare I say, her own prejudice, fool Jordan. When they arrive at the gate, Spike grabs one of the worker demons from Ogre's group and, feigning vengeful anger, hurls him at the detector, destroying the device. Smart! Thus Willow, using invisibility spell, can pass through the gate undetected. Willow stays close to Buffy so the scythe's power masks her spell from any additional magic checks and following Buffy, enters the work areas. Very smart! The plan works and I love it! Scoobies are so competent in this issue and of course they are, they've been doing this for ten seasons!

Later on Willow reveals what she figured out. The government is building a large machine to drain magic and then store it, like Willow did in this issue, just on a massive scale. Slayers and witches, as Willow explains, will only lose their powers but the inherently magical beings will get crippled or, like the undead, outright die because their magic is what keeps them alive. Basically, this is a genocide in the making and Hulk-Buff plans to stop it, preferably immediately! Wreck it, destroy everything they've made, whenever it's actually located, they'll just rebuild it, points out Spike, expose the government's plans to the world, they'd deny it. And I hate to break it to you, Slayer, but a fair chunk 'o the world might think it's a brilliant idea, he says. That's bleak but true and honestly, I don't know what I'd do in Buffy's place, I mean, aside from washing my hands and relocating like Andrew. Neither does Buffy at the moment, but first, she needs to break out of the safe zone. One question remains. What does the government plan to do with all that magical power? Well, If I'd have to guess, I'd say that they want to build themselves a machine god, a hybrid of magic and technology, think Adam 2.0. What could possibly go wrong?

Yes, this is another fantastic issue! It's well written, it looks incredible and it absolutely feels like Buffy! Anyway, we're halfway through the season and so far, every single issue has been pretty much amazing! Read it people!

[kellyinboston]

WHAT Wednesday

Hi folks. WHAT is up? I feel a bit out of sorts today and I don’t know why! I am all over the place attention wise and I just feel restless. Strange.

Everyone excited for the 3-day weekend? It sure doesn’t feel like the end of May to me. The weather hasn’t been great (here I go again with weather talk). We had a 5-day stretch of nice weather last week and now it is back to cold and rainy. A bit annoying. Also, I think I smell like skunk. Last night someone got sprayed big time right outside our condo and I think it trailed in and our unit smelled and I think I still smell like it (or maybe my nostrils just have permanent skunk smell in them)??

Anywho.

There are a few things I would like to talk with you about today, so let’s get to it!

WHAT am I reading?

I finished Hillbilly Elegy. This book was sold (not literally) to me as part memoir part sociological study on a certain population of people that I do not know much about (white working-class Americans). So, I was looking forward to that analysis. Well, what I got was more memoir than I expected/wanted. I did like the stories the author told about his family, childhood, etc, but I didn’t love it. I thought the flow was a bit off and he wasn’t the best storyteller in regards to transitioning, depth…it is hard to explain because I did find it fascinating. I think that if you knew nothing about the book and just read it then you would like it better. I wanted more sociological talk!

Anyways, I am now reading Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein and listening to LaRose by Louisa Erdrich.

Code Name Verity has been on my list for a few years and I actually *gasp* bought the book. I have not bought a physical book in who knows how long (unless it was Harry Potter related). I decided a month or so ago that I wanted to start buying books again. Not in bulk, but a few here and there to support the industry. Anyways, I am maybe a little over half way through and I am enjoying it for the most part. It is written a bit different and so it took me a while to get into the flow of the writing. Here is the description:

Oct. 11th, 1943-A British spy plane crashes in Nazi-occupied France. Its pilot and passenger are best friends. One of the girls has a chance at survival. The other has lost the game before it's barely begun.

When "Verity" is arrested by the Gestapo, she's sure she doesn't stand a chance. As a secret agent captured in enemy territory, she's living a spy's worst nightmare. Her Nazi interrogators give her a simple choice: reveal her mission or face a grisly execution.

As she intricately weaves her confession, Verity uncovers her past, how she became friends with the pilot Maddie, and why she left Maddie in the wrecked fuselage of their plane. On each new scrap of paper, Verity battles for her life, confronting her views on courage, failure and her desperate hope to make it home. But will trading her secrets be enough to save her from the enemy?

Then, this morning, I started the audio book LaRose which came out last year (I think). I literally just started (like 15 minutes of a 14 hour audio book). But, I have to say, I like it so far. It just jumps right into to the story. Here is the description:

North Dakota, late summer, 1999. Landreaux Iron stalks a deer along the edge of the property bordering his own. He shoots with easy confidence—but when the buck springs away, Landreaux realizes he’s hit something else, a blur he saw as he squeezed the trigger. When he staggers closer, he realizes he has killed his neighbor’s five-year-old son, Dusty Ravich

The youngest child of his friend and neighbor, Peter Ravich, Dusty was best friends with Landreaux’s five-year-old son, LaRose. The two families have always been close, sharing food, clothing, and rides into town; their children played together despite going to different schools; and Landreaux’s wife, Emmaline, is half sister to Dusty’s mother, Nola. Horrified at what he’s done, the recovered alcoholic turns to an Ojibwe tribe tradition—the sweat lodge—for guidance, and finds a way forward. Following an ancient means of retribution, he and Emmaline will give LaRose to the grieving Peter and Nola. “Our son will be your son now,” they tell them.

LaRose is quickly absorbed into his new family. Plagued by thoughts of suicide, Nola dotes on him, keeping her darkness at bay. His fierce, rebellious new “sister,” Maggie, welcomes him as a coconspirator who can ease her volatile mother’s terrifying moods. Gradually he’s allowed shared visits with his birth family, whose sorrow mirrors the Raviches’ own. As the years pass, LaRose becomes the linchpin linking the Irons and the Raviches, and eventually their mutual pain begins to heal.

But when a vengeful man with a long-standing grudge against Landreaux begins raising trouble, hurling accusations of a cover-up the day Dusty died, he threatens the tenuous peace that has kept these two fragile families whole.

I am trying to get more involved in the online book reading community. How to do this…I am not sure. I am following a lot of book readers on Instagram and liking a lot of those photos, hoping they will follow me in return. I am reading more book blogs. I am not sure what my end game with this is…maybe to have more book friends because, to be honest, a lot of my friends (most) do not read or really care about books…so I am sure this section of WHAT Wednesday is not enjoyable for many of you. Sorry.  

WHAT are we watching?

Basketball. I am just not really into the playoffs this year. I guess most years I am not. I have started The West Wing again, I have watched maybe 12 episodes (of like 150) and I do like it. I have just been on a reading kick lately so watching shows have taken a back seat. I do want to see the movie Dunkirk when it comes out in July.

WHAT is going on with the family?

Ha. Snoop is something else I tell you. She is not allowed on the couch. Neil doesn’t want her “dirty butt” on it. Fair enough. So she doesn’t come up on the couch…but look how she sits ALL THE TIME.

Not technically on the couch but she pops a squat on that corner with her big, dirty butt. What Neil was trying to avoid…she found a way around it. Pretty funny if you think about it because if we would just let her on the couch there would be less dirty butt than how she sits now. Did that sentence make any sense?? Also, wanted to share ANOTHER photo of her sleeping. It just cracks me up.

Finally, whenever Snoop wakes up from a quick nap she jumps up so quick like she is embarrassed that we “caught” her sleeping. Hard to explain but we get a kick out of it.

And just another picture of Snoop hanging out on the patio under the table!

The walk this morning was interesting. I was talking to another dog walker and Snoop laid down during our conversation…right in dog poop. So… she had dog poop on her hind leg, yuck. When we got back to the condo I picked her up and put her in the shower to give her a quick bath. This resulted in my cleaning out her behind area because there was stuff there that needed to be cleaned. Don’t need to get into the details but it was gross. She gets a haircut in two weeks so she will be nice and clean again!

Neil is good. His friend (my friend too) David is in town for a week, he got in town last night. He got to our place around 10:45pm so I was getting ready for bed but him and Neil stayed up talking architecture until 1am. He bought his ticket to Copenhagen – he will be on his own a couple days because I have to work, so he is putting together a list of places he wants to visit. He got his cowboy boots in the mail the other day and wore them to work. They are not my taste but if Neil likes them then I will support that?? He is still deciding if he likes them or not. He goes through interesting fashion phases and I am assuming that this is just one of them?

WHAT did we do this past weekend?

This last weekend was a grade A weekend for us. On Friday night we met up with Mike and Cheryl at a new restaurant in East Boston called The Reel. It is right on the water and has amazing views. We were celebrating Mike’s birthday and the end of his training. On Saturday morning I went for a run (I am out of shape) and then in the afternoon Neil and I met Kate (her husband, Zach, was out of town) at the Fells (dog park/trail). We took Charlie with us because Mike and Cheryl were out with family and Snoop wanted her buddy to be there. The car ride was funny – 2 big dogs in the back seat of our small car.

The weather was perfect for a walk (probably around 3 miles).

After that Kate came over to our place to hang out and eat some dinner. It was a lot of fun.

On Sunday I went for another run (still out of shape) and then Neil and I went to home depot to get some flowers for our porch. I potted them (is that the correct terminology??) and I think they look nice!

After that Snoop and I went to the library to return a book and then we took a nap and relaxed on the couch (well me on the couch and Snoop’s butt on the corner of the couch) the rest of the day. It was a great weekend!

WHAT else is on my mind?

I need to switch my shampoo and conditioner. I feel like my hair has been SUPER frizzy lately so I figured I would try some new product. I suppose I could just do my hair, instead of throw it up every day, but that sounds like too much work.

So off the shoulders tops are in style. Huh? Not for me.

Still trying to raise money to open an independent book store. Snoop was sniffing like crazy the other day on our walk, which usually means she found something really gross and will start rolling in it, but not this time – this time she was leading me to $0.17 on the ground (3 nickels and 2 pennies). So I am $0.17 closer to my goal of what, like $500,000. Slowly but surely!

Thanks for reading!