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chouxsardine · 1 year ago

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Love is a four-legged word--Sam Kiszka x reader

Summary: Love comes in all forms, it is, afterall, a four-legged word--Sam and y/n met at a park while walking their dogs. The furry friends are their best wingman.

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 7418

Warnings: dogs, description of crying, allusion to death of pet, death of animals, mention of the name of alcohol (but no alcohol involved) (please let me know if I missed any!)

Genre: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Author's note: This is my longest piece so far and my first Sam piece (yipee!! exciting!) This was a Christmas gift to I want to @dannythedog thank her for hosting the gvf secret santa. But as late as it was… I hope it can still count as a New Year's gift? This took so long to write and I myself went through a pretty emotional journey while writing this. I have more to say, but I will save for the end if you care to read it. Enjoy for now.

“Come on, Rosie bug, it’s time for your walk.” Sam stood up from the sofa, raising his arm for a stretch.

Being the good girl that she is, Rosie was already waiting patiently at the door, sitting still while Sam put the harness and leash on her.

It was a sunny afternoon, warm and cloudless after consecutive days of rain. Taking advantage of the delightful weather, Sam decided to extend their daily walk and take Rose to the park. He has always loved this park. There’s just something so intimate about this public space that always draws him towards it. It is situated a few blocks away from downtown, a beautiful getaway from the hurly burly of the city. It has a large lawn area that turns into the most pleasant shade of green in April, around his birthday. The colour so lovely that it gives him the urge to touch the grass, hug a tree, and nuzzle his face into nature. It is also the best place to people-watch—college lovebirds, laughing toddlers, family picnics—it is like being in one of Georges Seurat’s paintings.

It seems that many people think the same way as Sam. The park was busier than usual. The duo took their familiar route, following the gravel path to the fountain where the running tracks start. They would take a break on the bench where Rose can enjoy some treats.

Sam has done a good job socializing Rose due to the need for frequently traveling on the road. Rose is a curious girl and is open to making new friends, but she always listens to Sam. When other dogs pass by either barking over-excitedly or stopping to exchange friendly sniffs, Rose generally remains unfazed. She knows that remaining her composure and staying close to Sam is going to warrant some loving pets and yummy treats. Therefore, when a black and white Pit Bull trotted up to Rose, Sam didn’t pay too much attention. The dogs are all on leashes in this area. If any of them stop for a little longer, Sam will usually exchange a friendly smile with the owner, then each side will go about their own business. However, Rose seemed to be especially interested in this new friend. She stood up and started wagging her tail softly, gently bumping nose with her newfound friend, learning their smell and demeanour. That’s when Sam noticed that this dog looked a little special. Instead of the common collar, it was wearing a blue bandana with the word “adopt” printed on the corner. Sam followed the leash and looked all the way up. He saw a pretty girl looking down at the two dogs interacting with a mesmerizing smile.

Sensing his gaze, the girl quickly looked up.

“Oh hi, so sorry about this. Klaus is a shelter dog; he doesn’t get to interact with other dogs a lot, so he got a bit excited.” She said apologetically.

Ah, so that explains the bandana.

Now it seemed that Klaus took an interest in Sam as well. Considering his lack of socialization, Sam thinks Klaus is doing exceptionally well. He was sniffing Sam’s jeans, nudging his ankles with his nose.

“No, no, don’t worry. I don’t mind.” Sam bent down and extended the back of his hand to Klaus. After receiving a lick and some kisses as signs of approval, he started scratching Klaus behind the ears. “I’m Sam, and this is Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam. I’m y/n,” y/n said before crouching down. Rose immediately moved towards her and started pawing her hand.

One thing Sam loves the most about Rose is that she has good taste in people. Come on, this girl chose Sam to be her handler. (Sam has always believed that it is Rose who came to him, not the other way around.) And based on Rose’s reaction now, Sam would like to boldly assume that y/n is a decent person as well.

“Come on, Klaus, let’s go.” y/n gently tugged the leash, but she was completely ignored. The two dogs were already playing together, bowing and bouncing just like puppies.

“They can play for a bit,” Sam said. He loves seeing Rose Bud making friends. “If you are not in a rush, that is.”

“No, I’m not. Thank you so much,” y/n relented.

“So, Klaus is a shelter dog, you said?” Sam asked as he scooted over and let out more space on the bench for y/n to sit next to him.

“Yes, today is his Doggy Day Out,” y/n kindly explained. “People can sign up to take a shelter dog out for a ‘field trip’ for a day. It helps them manage kennel stress and increases their chances of getting adopted.”

The thoughtfulness of the idea makes Sam smile. He has heard about similar programs before, but this was his first time encountering an example in real life. “So you chose Klaus?”

“Yeah, Klaus is one of the longest residents at the shelter.” y/n cupped the dog’s adorable face in her hands and cooed. “I mean, look at his face, how could I say no? Besides, people often have a misunderstanding about Pit Bulls, you know, about them being aggressive and all; so it’s harder for them to get adopted.”

As absurd as it sounds, that is sadly the truth. Sam remembers seeing more than once those distasteful comments under Rose’s account.

“Indeed. Sometimes we truly don’t deserve dogs.” He said.

A comfortable silence draped over them, except it was quite loud in y/n’s mind and chest right now. Y/n had been stealing glances at the man next to her in between conversations the whole time and she hoped she wasn’t being too obvious. There was no denial that Sam is outright gorgeous. He was wearing a navy blue t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned black plaid shirt, black pants, and a pair of Nike blazers. But what attracted her the most was his hair, the hair that suddenly made her self-conscious about her own (which really needed to get washed today). Sam has dark brown hair the length to his shoulder. The loose curls look lush and smooth, shining under the sunlight, which makes it a lighter flax colour. The strands that frizzes away are delicate and golden, swaying along with his breathing. Y/n bet they are silky and soft to the touch too. Plus, he has really pretty hands, with the pink leash wrapped around his palm contrasting against his olive skin. Slim, bony fingers, with nails that are clean, round and well-trimmed. Those are hands well-kept.

Maybe there is a grain of truth to what people say about first impression after all, Sam thought. A girl with Rose��s approval, a nice smile, and a sensible and tasteful take on Pit Bulls (She also looks cute). Sam thinks he quite liked her.

“So, what are your plans for the day? I mean, for Klaus?” Sam quickly corrected himself to sound less snoopy.

“We haven’t left the shelter for long. I was planning on getting him a pup cup first.”

“Pup cup! What a coincidence, that’s exactly what Rose bug and I have in mind,” (Liar. He didn’t). Sam put on his best smile. “Mind if we join you?”

Their conversation carried on smoothly as they made their way to the nearby bakery. Sam found out that y/n volunteers at the local shelter and works as a freelance photographer and a part-time dog walker. Y/n learned that Sam is a bassist and keyboard player who is in a band with his brothers (“That explains the pretty fingers,” Y/n thought to herself).

The bakery is a hidden gem in the neighbourhood, with a walk-up window inlaid into the white brick wall. A blackboard with cursive chalk writing was propped up beside it, displaying the menu. A separate hand-drawn poster on the wall sayid “puppuccino available for furry friends” in brush lettering.

“Do you want anything? My treat,” Sam asked as they approached the queue. “Please say yes so I have an excuse to ask for your number just in case you want to return the favour sometime.”

A bold move? Yes. But he felt like taking chances today.

Y/n raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. Sam held her gaze, silently restating his point.

“Fine, if you insist.”

“I do insist.” Sam stepped aside as it was their turn to order and let y/n go first. “After you.”

That’s smooth. Real Smooth. Y/n thought. Almost as smooth as his hair.

For the next few weeks, Sam and y/n has been talking on and off through text messages. Their chat history was mainly composed of Sam sending goofy dog videos and y/n replying with cute pictures she took of dogs at the shelter. Sometimes Sam spotted y/n holding multiple leashes, walking dogs on the sidewalk, and sometimes he went to the shelter under the excuse of dropping off donations just to see her. Occasionally, they would fix a date to meet at the park for a “puppy play date” when y/n took another dog on their Doggy Day Out. While the dogs rolled together or chased each other within their sight, they would sit on the bench with coffee cups in their hands and a box of cookies between them to share. Y/n found Sam to be a charming guy. She loves his brutal honesty and his humour with a witty tongue. He loves to hold her gaze while talking to her. At first, she hated it—the unrelenting stare from those captivating brown eyes makes her want to squirm in her seat—and Sam was never the first to break eye contact. But over time she had learnt to stare back nonchalantly, usually with a single raise of her eyebrow.

There was no lack of vocal banters as well, which usually embarks after one of them blurts out some controversial opinion. With some people, a debate over things like if pineapple belongs on pizza or should you pour milk before cereal can quickly lead to annoyances, but it’s different with Sam. Sam brings out the competitiveness in y/n just like she was back in her high school debate club. Backchat with Sam is fun; he makes one willing to takes all the steps—from gathering evidence to forming thesis statement—just to be rebutted by a single line of his ingenious comment; and y/n is not even mad about it. The cherry on top is that Sam always likes to push one step further by adding the flirtatious “What now, little mama, cat caught your tongue?”. She feels offended in the best possible way.

On the other hand, as composed as he seems to y/n, Sam feels that things always came out of his mouth without filters when he is with y/n. For example, he will never let go of that one time they argued about the right way to hang up toilet paper.

“It’s obviously under! Have you ever had times when you hang it over and it unrolls itself and you get this massive pile of toilet paper on the floor?”

“No, Sam, I have not. I’m pretty sure that’s because you got a bad roll or some mean spirit in your bathroom pulled it.”

“It’s a perfect roll, just out of the package!”

“Then it’s definitely some mean spirit. Burning some sage should fix it. Obviously, the correct way is over so that it doesn’t rub against the wall.”

“Bold of you to assume I have dirty walls!”

“How do I know? You probably do!”

“I will not stand any defamation to my name and my wall. You can only form such an opinion after you have checked it out!”

Y/n gave him an interesting look. Just before she could say something, Rose rushed back to their side, and for once, Sam was relieved that the debate withered away because as soon as those words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself.

Why would you say that, you freaking idiot? What kind of activities should you be engaging in that will lead to a situation involving you showing her the cleanness of your bathroom wall, which unfortunately is, in fact, kind of gross and stained with flashed pee?

But fate is a fickle little thing. Little does Sam know, it was not long before they did end up in that situation, just not in the way as he has expected.

Earlier that day, Sam has sent y/n a message asking if she wants to meet at the park the next day and received a brief message that reads, “Sorry, got caught up at the shelter”.

That is usually a bad sign because it means that there’s either a large intake or some kind of emergency. Y/n also ran a volunteer social media account, posting adorable pictures and short videos that she took of the dogs when she takes them out for a walk for temperament tests, adding visibility to help they find a loving home. Sam vaguely remembered y/n mentioning that they took in a puppy that was hit by a car. He secretly hoped it wasn’t any bad news. Sam debated between sending her a goofy dog meme with the caption “Take care” to lighten up the mood or asking further. He waited, but the three dots on the other side of the chat box never came up.

It was around nine in the evening when Sam received another text from y/n.

Y/n: Are you busy right now?

Sam: No, just chilling. What’s up?

Y/n: My car broke down.

The three dots are still blinking when Sam’s finger flew through the screen.

Sam: location?

Sam: I’ll be there.

Rose looked up confused from her spot on the couch, when Sam rushed to the foyer, one arm already in his jacket and stuffing his feet into shoes.

“Hold the fort, Rose bud!” He yelled before locking the door behind him.

Y/n’s car broke down not too far away from the shelter. Sam saw the tow truck and the roadside assistance as he drove near. Y/n was talking to the truck driver. From the distance, she looked so forlorn and lost under the jarring redness of warning lights. The size different between her and the heavyset man towering over her makes her looked like a puppy soaked in rain. Sam had never felt such a strong sense of protectiveness towards anyone. He wanted nothing more than to rush to her side and engulf her in a hug, if she would let him.

He almost drifted as he swerved his car into an empty parking space by the side of the road. He ran to y/n’s side.

“Okay, Miss. The insurance company will contact you for further details,” the roadside assistance worker nodded to y/n. “The truck will tow your car to the garage. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yes,” said Sam before y/n could answer.

The man gave him a knowing look before he said, “Good. Make sure you take all your valuable belongings in the car with you.”

Sam helped y/n put her stuff in the backseat of his car before opening the passenger side’s door for her. Sam had noticed that y/n’s body was stiff and tense the whole time when she was standing outside, and it remained so as she plopped down onto the seat.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Sam turned to her eagerly once he had situated himself.

As soon as the words left his lips, the dam broke loose. Y/n’s shoulder visibly relaxed as loud sobs ripped through her body. She tried to purse her lips and contain herself but tragically failed. For a minute, she couldn’t make a single syllable other than frantically shaking her head and shoving her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle her crying. Y/n’s whimper filled the car, mixed with the loud beeping alert and yelling outside as the truck towed y/n’s car away.

“Oh, y/n,” Sam felt like someone had stamped on his heart. “Can I give you a h—”

Without a word, y/n almost knocked herself into his arms. It was only when he was holding her that he realized how badly she was trembling. This is their first proper hug, far from how Sam has imagined it. He wrapped his arms around y/n’s frame, one hand hugging her shoulders to him and the other rubbing her hand in wide, gentle stripes, tucking her head under his chin. Y/n’s hand held onto Sam’s arm, fingers digging into his biceps like a drowning person holding onto a piece of driftwood. Sam was firstly relived that y/n was not physically hurt; and then there were the emotions, which they could deal with. Whatever made her this devastated, he was determined to turn it around and make it better.

They stayed like that for a while, bodies squishing together uncomfortably over the middle console, until Y/n finally started to calm down.

She pulled away from Sam’s hug. Sam immediately reached to the backseat for the tissue box, from which y/n took a handful of tissues and turned her head to the side to wipe her face.

“It…it was Huxley,” she was fighting to speak without breaking down again. “He’s g—gone.”

Upon hearing the name, Sam’s heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. His former wish had fallen through after all. Huxley was the puppy that came to the shelter from a car accident. He was sent in by a Good Samaritan on Monday. From the photo y/n posted, Sam knew that he was a young Australian cattle dog. Sam thought he was out of danger as y/n updated the post on Tuesday, saying that there was a rescue willing to pull him.

Sam didn’t press on with further questions. He sat patiently, handing y/n more tissues as she needed and waited to piece together the story from snatches of her speech.

“They did an x-ray and found he has a fractured pelvis. A rescue tagged him…and he was supposed to l-leave the shelter today.”

“We thought he was f-fine until…until he suddenly deteriorated this a-afternoon. There was, um, internal bleeding and… the vet said, the in-injury was too serious to recover and, and s-suggested…”

It was taking all her strength for y/n to squeeze out the last few words: “…it…it was the kindest to..put him d-down.”

Y/n buried her face into her hands as she resorted to another burst of weeping. Her shoulders shuddered with every muffled sob. “He reminded me of Wendy…I couldn’t save n-neither of them!”

This was the first time Sam has heard about Wendy from y/n. He guessed that Windy used to belong to y/n. He had once saw a photo of y/n and a white puppy tucked in her wallet when she was paying for coffee. Y/n never talked about it and Sam never asked. He decided he was still going to be silent about it today. He wouldn’t want to force her to narrate whatever tragic event that had happened in the past again, knowing that she probably had already done it to herself over and over again in her brain upon seeing the loss of Huxley.

Sam mulled over his words. Platitudes like “you have already done your best” sounded superfluous. Y/n, and he believes that everyone at the shelter, did everything they could; but that doesn’t fix things, does it?

“Was he loved when he was gone?” Sam gently took y/n’s hand in his.

“I was too coward to stay until the last moment,” y/n looked at Sam through teary eyes, “and he couldn’t really stomach any food by then. But yes, we made sure he was surrounded by treats and toys.”

“Then that’s what matters,” Sam managed a smile and said softly. “Dogs are very grateful creatures, you know that. Now that Huxley has crossed the rainbow bridge, he must be thanking you for loving him to the end, to provide him with a warm bed so he didn’t have to go alone and scared on the side of some highway.”

Y/n’s was still hiding her face in her palms, with her elbows resting on her knees, but Sam recognized a trembling nod from her. Now he felt tears stinging in his own eyes. He rubbed the area between y/n’s shoulder blades and carefully opened his mouth: “Look, y/n. I don’t want to sound like I’m taking advantage of the situation. But I am really worried about leaving you alone for the night like this. Would you like to perhaps crash at my place for the night? Rosie can keep you company.”

“Let me take care of you.” Sam closed his eyes for a second before he added, “As a friend?”

To his relief, y/n nodded again before turning her head slightly to face him, revealing half of her face, all wrinkled with red marks and tear stains, her eyes bloodshot and glassy.

“Sorry for being a bother.” She whispered through quivering lips.

“Never. Never a bother, mama,” Sam’s heart clenched again, hard. He reached out and gently squeezed the back of y/n’s neck before starting the car. “I got you.”

Y/n could hear Rosie’s claws clacking on the wooden floor before Sam turned the key in the lock. As he opened the door, they are welcomed by an excited Rosie, just as expected. Sam had taught Rosie well not to bolt towards guests or jump on them, so she was expressing her joy through a wagging tail that put her whole body into motion and repeated bowing; her pink tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth. The goofy gestures raised a chuckle out of y/n. The first smile that he had seen on her face all night.

Sam’s apartment is cozy and vibrant. It has rustic brick walls and exposed beams. A red oriental rug lies in the middle of the room in front of a light camel-coloured sofa. There are touches here and there where Sam lets his intrusive thoughts win—so a piece of decor that does not match the general style appears but ends up working nonetheless, such as the banana leaf wall paper that only covers one side of the wall. A long-neck floor lamp throws warm glow over half of the living room.

“Go sit, y/n. Make yourself at home. You want some tea?” Sam laid out a pair of slippers for her as he asked.

Y/n had half a heart to reject out of politeness but realized she was too tired to put on any facade, and it is unnecessary after all considering she had just bawled her eyes out before Sam. Her eyes were stinging from crying and her face must have looked like a mess now.

“Thank you. Can I borrow the bathroom, please?”

“Of course! It’s right there.” Sam pointed her the right door.

Closing the door behind her, y/n felt like her legs were about to gave out. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and closed her eyes, thoughts swarming in her mind. Now that the initial throbbing pain in her chest has subsided, she began interrogating herself. What was it that made her agree to stay here overnight? “Worry about leaving you alone”….You are used to being alone—heck, you have been for years. All the past experiences and rational judgements were reprimanding her in a motherly tone with a scowl, but her body was faithful to the ghostly touches and phantom breaths that he had left on her skin during their hug. She forgot when was the last time that she had received a hug that conveyed such empathy without blind assumption. She forgot when was the last time that she felt valid for her feeling sad and mourning. She forgot when was the last time that she was not forced to explain. Yet Sam came and reset the record for her.

Three gentle knocks on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I grabbed you a clean towel. I’m putting it on the handle, so just watch it when you open the door.” Sam’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Oh Sammy, Y/n thought to herself with a wry smile. The nickname naturally slips into her mind. This is not helping.

What it is about this man that makes you trust him enough to break down in front of him and then agree to stay at his place overnight? Was it because he was nice to dogs? Green flag. Nice hair and clean nails, perfect side profiled, chiseled like an Apollo statue? Green flag. Top tier banter and flirting? Beige flag (but has potential).

Her brain started hurting again. Her heart said fuck it, go wipe your face, drink tea, and pray that he’s not a patient serial killer three months in disguise who likes to collect dog memes. Y/n opened her eyes and the first thing she saw brought an untimely giggle out of her.

Toilet paper hanging from under? Red flag.

When y/n opened the bathroom door again, Sam was feeding Rose her dinner.

“There you are! Thought you fell in.” Sam looked up at her with a toothy grin.“Sorry,” he apologized for his joke before y/n even said anything. “I made you tea, I guess you haven’t eat yet? I can order takeout or whip something up real quick.”

“That’s very nice of you, Sam. But I really don’t think I can handle a meal right now. Tea will be just fine for me. Thank you.”

Y/n must have washed her face in the washroom. Now her face looked fresh, setting off her reddish nose which she rubbed a little too harshly. The bags under her swollen eyes made her looks droopy, much different from the energetic y/n under the sun in the park. She looked very….huggable.

Y/n took a sip from the mug Sam handed her. It’s lavender tea. She felt her nerves slowly stretched as the warm liquid slid into her stomach. Having finished her dinner, Rose wasted no time joining them on the sofa. She found the perfect spot between Sam and y/n, laying her head on her folded paws.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“Um-hmm,” y/n absent-mindedly hummed. “You take the pick.”

Absolutely nothing furry, nothing barking, nothing wagging its tail. Sam scrolled through the catalogue.

Y/n raised her eyebrows when she saw Sam finally settling on Vanderpump Rules.

“Surprised?”

“Surprised, amused, guilty as charged.” Y/n admitted.

“No way! Which season are you on?”

“Seven? I can’t remember much though.”

Sam couldn’t deny it, there’s just something about watching and becoming invested in other people’s cheating drama that gets you to forget about your own problems real fast, at least temporarily. When one of the girls made an especially spiteful comment and Sam got no reaction from y/n, he turned and saw her dozing off, her chin rested on her clavicle, one hand still resting on Rose’s back.

She’s bound to get a stiff neck sleeping that way. Sam gently pulled her shoulder to the side, resting her head on a cushion, and pulled the blanket over her. Other than making a few indistinguishable murmur, she didn’t stir; or if she did, she chose to relent to Sam’s touch. Now that her eyes were closed, she looked peaceful under the orange light of the lamp, one almost couldn’t tell she was crying so hard a few hours ago. Sam debated if he should carry her to the bedroom or at least wake her up, but in the end, he did neither. Instead, he sat down on the carpet, his side pressed against the sofa, putting his head on his elbow.

Whatever this is, it fels tranquil and nice. She is close and far, her silence remote and candid, still as a star*. It feels like love. He feels his heart heavy with love. She doesn’t know. Maybe she will, eventually. But not now. Now he just wants to have this moment, in case it is all he will ever have.

Y/n is woken up by the wetness of her face. “Rose, stop!” She managed to open her eyes under Rose’s kiss attack. She propped herself up on her elbow and saw Sam sitting on the floor next to her, still asleep. But that changed quickly as he became Rose’s next target. Did he just sleep all night like this? The light seeping through the curtains formed bright patters on the floor. Gosh, she must be really tired to sleep so soundly on the sofa.

“Morning.” Y/n pursed her lips, containing a chuckle as she met gaze with a hair-disheveled Sam, who was holding the side of his neck, grimacing.

Sam felt every single bone in his body crackling as he stood up. Actions have consequences.

The drive back to Y/n’s house was quiet. Y/n thanked him for letting her stay overnight, which he insisted that was no big deal. Then he cranked up the radio and let Stephen Stills take over.

“Thank—-”

“I swear, if you thank me again—-”

They almost said together as the car pulled up to a halt in front of y/n’s apartment.

Y/n smiled apologetically nonetheless.

“Hey, like I said, it’s really no big deal. It wasn’t so courteous of me not to offer you dinner and let you sleep on the couch anyway,” Sam said. “I am very sorry about what has happened. I hope you are feeling better now.”

Y/n chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. It was after several heartbeats that she said, “You know, your bathroom walls are dirty, Kiszka.”

Sam blinked and then barked out a laugh, throwing his hands in surrender. “Guilty as charged.”

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Sam watched as y/n unbuckled the seatbelt. He could tell that for a second, y/n was going to thank him again.

“I’m not guilt tripping you into this, but…the offer to co-dog walk always stands.”

“Sure. I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Y/n paused as she shut the door.

“Hug Rosie extra tight for me.” With that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

It was three days later that they met again at the park. The weather was starting to get cold. Sam would always choose the vivifying spring days over fall, but he also appreciates some delicious crunching of the leaves as one walks.

“I can really tell the season is changing when the benches feel a bit cold under the tush.” Sam commented as he sat down next to y/n.

“Oh, do we have to get you padded pants then?”

“Seriously, do they make those?” Sam gasped in feigned surprise. “Anyways, how’s your car?”

“I got a call yesterday, it should be ready to pick up by Thursday,” Y/n said. She was chewing on the edge of her coffee cup. “I feel so stupid losing it like that the other day.”

“But you don’t have to, though. There’s nothing wrong about feeling things, and emotions don’t lie.”

“Yeah, I guess. But in the end it’s not about me, it’s about them. There’s always more dogs that need help and always more to do.”

“I know you said not to, but I really need to,” y/n said as she turned to Sam and threw her arms around him, catching him in surprise. “Thank you, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt to have her nose buried in his shoulder. Talking about emotions don’t lie.

His hair smells nice too. And it is indeed so, so soft. Green flag.

Somehow, they fell back into the old rhythm after that. Sam guessed that when people say woman in a dream, they must be referring to their phantasmagoric nature. With each day passing, he became more and more inclined to believe that what he thought he had was nothing more than wishful thinking and self-deception.

Christmas was approaching. Their brother’s lack of contribution to the holiday preparation did not go unnoticed by the twins. Jake was first to approach Sam, saving Josh as the last resort. Although Jake doubted if they would really need him.

“Sammy boy, what are you sulking about?” Jake sat down next to Sam, who was lying facedown on the carpet.

“M’not sulking,” Sam mumbled. “You just interrupted my perfect nap.”

“No shit, wonder if you can even breathe lying like that.” Jake nudged him in the ribs, earning himself a smack on the arm.

“Have you asked her out yet?”

“Who?”

“Quit playing with me, brother. You’ve been spending enough time at the shelter and the park that we thought Rosie was going to the big sis this time.”

Sam flipped over with a groan, his hand laying across his forehead. “No. I think she probably doesn’t feel that way, honestly.”

“Okay,” Jake rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But how do you feel? Really smitten?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “You know the trend that goes, ‘one minute you are asking for her number, the next minute you are getting screamed at by her cat’? When I asked for her number, I was hoping so bad that we will be making advent calendar for our dogs every year.”

“Damn.” For a moment, Jake was struck by the weight of that statement; its authenticity and spontaneity echoed in the air.

“You really got some of Josh’s romantic shit, huh?”

“Don’t act like you haven’,.” Sam rolled his eyes. Jake couldn’t argue with that.

“Look, I knew you will tell her eventually. Come on, don’t give me that look. We both know that you will. But this is not like some assignment where you can just keep putting off until all the points have been abducted.”

“You have my permission to take the day off. But you better be making it up to me once you’ve got her. Do you have any idea how painful it is to untangle four strands of those lights? My fingers deserve better than that.”

Sam shot his elder brother a plaintive look. Jake raised his eyebrows provocatively, but the genuine encouragement still shone through.

“Just get your ass up already, kid.”

Sam was going to see y/n that day anyway. The shelter was doing Christmas dinner for the animals and y/n had texted him earlier asking if he wanted to come help. The shelter around Christmas looked like a kindergarten. Garlands and ribbons hung from the ceiling. Cheerful Christmas carols played through the announcement speakers. Even the bulletin board were updated with the animals’ intake pictures with their new Christmas photoshoots.

“Y/n is at the big dog kennel in the back.”

The round-faced woman at the front desk warmly greeted Sam as she recognized him. He had been a regular; the staff had naturally associated him with y/n and had been secretly calling him the sexy Tarzan*. (Y/n burst out laughing when she first heard that nickname; she couldn’t deny the resemblance is uncanny.)

Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to do this. Yes, he was going to wing it but it’s not like he could just blurt it out. The place started to smell like food as Sam passed the reception area. He found y/n and her colleagues standing in the meet-and-greet area around a table full of buckets and a crock pot with the largest turkey he had ever seen. Y/n waved him in as she saw him.

“Thanks for coming! We’re about to start.” Y/n handed him an apron.

“There are separate bucket for veggies, meat, and broth. You just grab some from each into the bowl and pass it down, Sally and Theo will squeeze in the yogurt and puree, add the dry treats…and a bowl is done!” Y/n walked him around the table as they went through each step.

“This feels like I’m at a poke station.” Sam chuckled.

“It is, special Christmas edition.”

Suddenly, Sam felt more at ease. He was grateful that y/n volunteers at the shelter. It’s at least comforting to think that he would have nearly a hundred flurry friends as his wingman.

They walked down the corridor, stopping at each kennel, opening the door and sliding in the bowl. Some dogs were more timid and nervous, huddling in the corner and coming up to the food when they were left alone. Y/n made sure to skip those ones a few more beef jerky. But most of them were already wagging their tails like windshield wipers in heavy rain, waiting impatiently at the front of their kennel.

It took them nearly an hour going through the whole the dog area before the empty cart was wheeled back to the preparation room.

“They have special food for the smaller animals like the rabbits as well. But, by far, our job here is completed. Well done, soldier!” Y/n untied her apron and threw in onto the table.

“Are you doing anything after?” Y/n asked.

“No, not really. Why?” Upon hearing that question, hope and anxiety bubbled together in Sam’s stomach.

“I could treat you to a coffee for helping out today, or perhaps hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate sounds great.”

“Awesome, you’re in for a treat. I know a place that makes bomb hot cocoa.”

It was snowing heavily when they stepped out. The ground is already covered in a thin white layer. The snow was coming down thick and fast, Sam could hear it falling onto the crisp fabric of his jacket. They walked along the side road. The sky was already dark, making the snowflakes dancing under the streetlights all the more obvious. The cars passing by, their tires rolling over the splashing snow, made sounds like someone stirring the repeatedly pushing the buttons of a a fountain drink machine. As nice as it was, Sam soon realized his mistake of forgetting to wear gloves when he headed out. It was strange how he seldom felt cold amid the big snowfalls, it’s always the coldest the day before. It was always the build up.

“So….do you have any plans for Christmas?”

“Oh, yeah I do. I am going to this awesome party. I'm going to dance, have fun, raid the charcuterie board, get shit-face drunk, and then crawl back home. Giving the weather we are having now, I’m probably going to slip and fall, break my face on the sidewalk, and lay there unconsciously until some hobo finds me and steals my purse, but all he is going to find are handfuls of puke that I threw up earlier,” y/n finished with a mischievous smile. “How does that sound?”

Sam was speechless for a few seconds. “I’m only with you on the ‘raiding the charcuterie board’ part.” He finally said.

“Always appreciate a good humour, Kiszka.”Y/n threw back her head and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Quite the opposite, I’m doing nothing. Probably still going to drink, but definitely no party.” She made a stank face.

Y/n has mentioned that she had just moved here not long ago. Sam never heard her mentioning much about her family, and he did not want to blindly assume.

“Do you want to come to mine for Christmas?”

“Crashing your family gathering as a stranger? That doesn’t sound like a very courteous thing to do.” Y/n replied.

Sam tried to focus his sight on the tip of his shoes. Just say it already. He was suddenly afraid to look to y/n. It feels better just to hear the rejection, not to face it head on, right? And could they still have hot chocolate after this? He could really use one now.

“Well, wouldn’t be weird if you were going as my girlfriend,” he finally said.

It was taking everything in Sam to hold his gaze on y/n. He saw her head shot right up. Beneath the initial shock, Sam couldn’t quite figure out the emotion hiding in her eyes. It’s always the build up. Always the build up. But now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well just spill it out.

“I think I really like you, y/n.”

A smile crept up onto the corner of y/n’s mouth, and Sam saw it grew to a grin.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“Hum?” That was not what he was expecting. But he appreciated a question, any question, to redirect the attention from the….previous embarrassment.

“Did you forget your gloves?” It was only then that Sam realized that he has subconsciously managed to snake his hands into the opposite sleeves of his jacket and fold his arms in front of his chest in order to warm up his hands.

“Yes, and my fingers are freezing off,” he said through gritted teeth. “And I am dying of suspense and embarrassment.”

Unexpectedly, y/n sighed and took off one of her own gloves. “There’s no need to feel embarrassed,” she said as she pried Sam’s right hand out of his sleeve and delicately stuck his stiff fingers into the glove, as if caring for newborn ducklings.

“It feels kind of good to see even Mr. ‘beat-me-in-every-banter’ at a loss for witty comments when it comes to feelings. Just proves we’re all human, doesn’t it?” She then took Sam’s other hand into her own and placed them into the pocket of her coat.

“There. See how much better it is if we simply express ourselves?”

Sam could feel y/n’s thumb brushing his numb muscles. “I may not be the best person to lecture you on this because, well, I myself have done a pretty lousy job at it too. But, I can try to improve, as your girlfriend.”

“Can you give me the chance to try?”

Oh god, now she’s asking me.

“My honour, y/n,” Sam felt like he could breathe again. And his quick wit returned. “One thing is not true though.”

“What?” Y/n asked as they continued to walk.

“I didn’t beat you to every banter. I lost in the toilet paper one.”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“I guess you were right. I called a truce with my bathroom ghost the other day.”

A man who is not afraid to confess his feelings and admit when he is wrong? Green flag.

Easter Egg

Y/n did end up attending the Kiszka’s Christmas gathering as Sam’s girlfriend. Jake was smug about it the whole time (“Told you we don’t need Josh”.) He determined that Sam owed him big time and demanded that he repays him by taking down the Christmas tree and and moving it up to the attic after the holidays are over.

Of all, Rose was more than thrilled to have her over because y/n came bearing special gift for her.

“I brought dog beer.” Y/n said proudly.

“You brought what?”

“Dog beer!” y/n laughed, showing the package of four cans. “It’s just unsalted bone broth with oat and barley.”

“Shame on you for leading Rose bug down this dangerous path!” Sam pretended to be annoyed but was already reaching for Rose’s water bowl.

“Come on, Rose’s a good girl, she can handle it. Plus, she is under parental supervision.” y/n said as she popped open a can.

“Oh, is that what we are now, ‘mummy’? Dog parents?” Sam looked smug.

As Rose happily lapped up her new beverage, y/n affectionately patted her on the neck: “And you always remember, Rosie girl, beers over boys. Well, I guess your daddy can make an exception but… ‘a healthy amount of beer over any contact with boys*’”.

*1: adapted from I Like For You To Be Still by Pablo Neruda

*2: it is from here (once you see it, you can't unsee it lol

*3: a quote from one of my favourite Youtuber: Christines Snaps

Hey, you've made it!! thank you so much for reading!

here's something more I want to say.

Firstly, the two dogs mentioned are real dogs; sadly they have both crossed the rainbow bridge now. You can read more about them here: Klaus and Huxley. I changed Klaus' story here because I'd like to imagine that having pup cups, going on walks, and having fun with other dogs is the life that he should have been having before his life was unfairly taken away. And I want to honour Huxley. The inspiration for this piece came to me because I relay information for shelter dogs that are listed to be euthanized in high kill shelters. It is absolutely heartbreaking to see how many healthy dogs lose their life at no fault of their own. I have always believed in the power of writing; I myself have been healed by the writings of others in this community many times, and I would like to do something with my writing too. I hope to raise awareness through this piece: There are just too many homeless pups. Please spay and neuter- their lives depend on it; and if you ever want a pet, please always go to the local shelter and check out their euth-list. Saving one dog is not going to change the world, but for that dog, the world is changed forever.

Secondly, about the writing; this is my first time writing Sam and my longest piece. As many of you surely must have noticed there are some loose ends, I apologize. I was emotional while writing this and I dragged it out. Plus, I made the mistake of reading one of the most amazing fanfics ever while writing this. I became self-conscious and kind of defeated---emotions get in the way, so I think this is leaning more towards a cathartic experience. For those that have experienced the pet loss, I am sorry and I feel for you. Please know that they can always feel your love and you will meet one day at the rainbow bridge. I intend to dig into this piece further in the future: perhaps make some more changes and edits, perhaps writing some blurbs between this y/n and Sam. If you would like that, please let me know.

Lastly, sincerely thank you to @dannythedog for the gvf secret santa event. It may sound stupid but that event carried me through my finals and several mental breakdowns. It has not only helped me to connect with so many wonderful people in this fandom, but it has also encouraged me to write. I never would have thought picking up writing again would give me so much closure and comfort. Plus, she did an awesome pairing; I got one of my favourite writers here as my secret santa!! and I got to know Nina.

This is so much longer than I intended. If you have made it here, wow, I am giving you a big big hug. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my writings. I hope that there are many more to come.

More of my writings: Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Ticked (all my boxes) || The Lucky Ones

(do we want a masterlist or a taglist? let me know :))

#greta van fleet fan fiction #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fluff #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fic #sam kiszka fic #gvf #sammy gvf

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saltyyetbland · 5 months ago

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WARNING: THIS IS JUST THOUGHTS AND THEORIES NOTHING IS SERIOUS

---

I'm just thinking about if Campaign 4 is going to happen, I won't be surprised if it starts after the live shows. Cause I know the breaks between C1 to C2 to C3 were only like 2-3 months but like the C3 ending truly was an end of an era (plus the cast are so damn busy with their 2 animated tv shows, multiple game systems, touring, individual stuff etc.).

So for me, the most likely time C4 would start is maybe like late October-November 2025. So we'll get a 10 month break from C3 (9 months if you want to count from the Exandria wrap up in March) which means what will they do to fill that time (besides the tour)?

These are some ideas that I have that they may do besides C4 in this hypothetical 9-10 month break:

Candela Obscura returns (yipee!!)

Daggerheart mini series (not in Exandria nor the existing series that they have)

Tying up loose ends oneshots (Caleb and Essek's Aeor adventure, the Hells trying to find FCGs coin, Dorian and Opal finding the Spider Queen baby etc.)

Maybe an EXU??? (prob will be set in the near future in this new age but will be before the main time period of C4)

Random funny oneshots (the cast as the De Rolo siblings, campaign characters in Drag Race (thanks Talegate party), ANOTHER freaky thursday (cause that stream was the hardest I've laughed in a while), the gods as toddlers in a daycare etc.)

But yeah, I'm just spewing ideas, who knows maybe they'll come back in May and I'm just gonna be completely wrong

#critical role

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glowingmin · 9 months ago

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the glowverse masterlist

so i may or may not have too many four swords au's. here's a masterlist of all the ones that i can remember off the top of my head. some of them are au's of au's, and it'll be noted as such. also most of these are rp's so Yeah.

All of these are stemmed (at least in part) from Rainbow AU. In this AU, the Link in Minish Cap, Four Swords, and Four Swords adventures are all the same. This is because at the end of FS, Link is sealed into the Four Sword alongside Vaati. The events of Ocarina of Time and Twilight Princess come to pass, and it is Shadow Link who draws the Four Sword at the beginning of FSA. Their time with Vaati has ripped every memory from the Colors, giving them amnesia so thorough that words and common sense have been evaporated.

Four Squared: Two versions of Four meet up. Chaos follows as the era of two wielders of the Four Sword begins, whether the world is ready or not.

Patchwork: Three sets are put in a dungeon together. One set is Red and Zelda, one set is Vio and Green, and the last is Blue and Shadow. The three sets are forced to become one.

Mishmash: Patchwork AU spinoff. All the Colors from one set reunite after the dungeon rather than going off with their new sets.

Foursaken: Four wakes up in an entirely different era where there's already a hero of the Four Sword... who barely acts better than an ungoverned toddler thrown out on the side of the road. He sees to fix this injustice.

Fourgotten: Foursaken AU spinoff. Four wakes up with amnesia, and it is the Colors who are barely better than toddlers themselves who have to deal with 2 Ganons roaming free, possession, three Zeldas... and a whole lot of chaos.

Corruption: There are many issues that stem from putting the literal embodiment of darkness into the vessel of your soul. Now the Colors have to work to find a way to ensure their continued survival without freeing Ganon.

rainbow_slices.exe: @rainbow-slices-exe

Diminished Fourtitude: Link from the Minish Cap gets sent to the events of FSA and is put in charge of four amnesiac Colors.

Elemental Convergence: The Colors wake up as elder dragons in the New World of Monster Hunter.

Creechur: Technically a Four Squared spinoff. The cult from Four Squared snatches the Colors immediately after Shadow pulls the Four Sword.

Time Loop: Blue and Vio wake up and have to run through the events of Ocarina of Time. Red and Green, meanwhile, race against time in the events of Majora's Mask.

Mac and Cheese: Mishmash AU spinoff. The Colors are teleported to New Hyrule by Vaati's ghost and are dropped onto Zelda and Spirit Tracks Link. Chaos ensues.

Dream AU: Technically a Four Squared spinoff. Ever since Link was little he's had dreams of talking to an older version of himself. AKA the Link from Minish Cap gets to talk to Rainbow AU Link via dreams, hooray!

Reincarnation AU: Zelda curses Green, and an injury turns to an infection and kills him. Four years later, the Colors find a young boy that they know, deep down, is their reincarnated brother.

i will. probably add more later but For Now this is what I got. Yipee, hooray, etc etc

#glow whispers and junk #rainbow au #4 squared rp #patchwork rp #mishmash au #yeah this is just. bullshit. yipee.

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giantchasm · 2 years ago

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Random Kirby Headcanon #12

When it comes to ages, there’s a pretty big variety amongst the Kirby cast. Obviously, when discussing them, it’s hard to put them into the context of literal years, though, since I’m sure every species ages differently. Still, it can be roughly mapped out about just how old each of them are equivalent to being by our standards.

King Dedede and Meta Knight are early-thirties and mid-thirties equivalents respectively. I think when the Kirby series first started Dedede was a admittedly a lot more stubborn and inexperienced— closer to a young adult at the time, but he’s since grown and mellowed out.

Bandee is one I wibble-wobble on a lot, but I think ultimately I envision him as a young teen. Something equivalent to the 13-14 range.

Rick Kine and Coo are in their ‘mid thirties- ‘ just a little bit older than Dedede. Nago is in his late twenties or early thirties while Pitch and Chuchu are probably around elevenish.

Gooey is a hard one to pinpoint. I definitely interpret him as a child, but as for how I’d describe his age? Uh. I’m not sure. He’s just kind of Gooey.

Marx, Magolor, Taranza and Susie are all in their early twenties. Peak stupid psychologically damaged young adult energies. Marx and Magolor especially are like… very irresponsible college frat bro type of guys who will light a couch on fire in the alleyway for fun. Taranza and Susie are a little bit more responsible, but still generally getting their grasp on actual adult life and what it entails.

(Similarly, Sectonia was in her early twenties when she died. She was only a year older than Taranza by Arachnid standards. She died YOUNG, the poor thing.)

Adeleine is 14ish and Ribbon is about 12 or 13.

DMK is about the same age as Meta Knight, as are all Mirror Worlders to their counterparts.

Daroach is in his early or mid thirties. About the same age as Rick, seeing as how they were childhood friends. A fully grown adult, and still plenty spry!

Francisca is in her early twenties, Flamberge is in her early-to-late twenties and Zan Partizanne is in her early thirties.

Hyness is… odd, in that he’s long lived, even by his species standards. The dark magic he was using kept him alive for an unnatural amount of time. I think during Star Allies he had the energy of someone closer to 40 or 50, but now that he’s no longer summoning demons he’s probably closer to being in his 70s or 80s.

Elfilin is a child for sure. Probably equivalent to around 9 or 10. I wouldn’t know where to place Fecto Forgo or Elfilis though. They operate on a sort of scale we can’t really comprehend.

Leon and Carol are in their mid thirties. They’re a happy married couple.

Haltmann was in his mid to late forties when he died. Seeing as how Susie is in her early twenties… uh… wow! Yipes. He actually had her kind of young, didn’t he? He wasn’t exactly the most responsible as a young adult.

Fluff is equivalent to a preteen or teen. I’d place him in the same area as Bandee and say 13-14.

And then there’s Kirby, who I’ve saved for last because… how does one really go about surmising Kirby’s age? I don’t think there’s one simple way to describe it. There’s a lot of discourse in this fandom about how he’s “not just a toddler,” and while I agree mostly, I also think he… sort of CAN be sometimes? He’s a very complicated little guy!

I think I’d describe him as fluctuating between 4 to 10 at any given time. He has the speech abilities and motor skills of a young child, but is very observant and empathetic. In some ways, he’s wise beyond his years, but in others, he really is just a sweet, silly kid.

#kirby #sack’s kirbyverse

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qtboni · 2 years ago

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[from my heart to yours! ✩ // bachira meguru]

PAIRING: bf!bachira (blue lock) x afab!reader

SUMMARY: your boyfriend might need a creative outlet outside of soccer, so doing a craft night together can be a fun way to spend time together.

TYPE/GENRE: heart to heart! ya’ll are painter luvers, def sfw, fluff with comfort (?), humor cz it’s crack, and bachira being a softie YIPEE!

CW/TW: explicit words (sh!t) and like having paint in your skin.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

A/N: wanted to cope w/ my exams last week so i made this HAHAHA enjoy aaaaaa i luv this bby sm ><

"have you ever noticed how football looks like a giant game of keep-away?"

bachira asked as he continued on mixing the two pigments on his palette. you paused on your sketching from your canvass to look at him. you couldn't help but snicker at his response.

"i mean, it's just a bunch of grown men chasing a ball around, trying to hog it as much as possible. it's like a bunch of toddlers fighting over a toy."

you snorted as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. "how ironic, meguru." you sarcastically stated and continued on with your work, diverting your attention to the half-made composition you drew. "don't you want to read between those lines?"

you and bachira decided to have a craft night together, and bachira got really excited when you suggested painting instead of crocheting. after all, he had a reputation for being a man of action, and crocheting just seemed too 'delicate' for him. plus, the idea of being able to create something with his own hands really appealed to him. however, when he realized how much patience and focus it took to paint, he quickly regretted his decision and muttered something about how he should have stuck with crocheting.

but despite his initial frustrations, bachira actually started to enjoy painting once he got into the flow of it. he found that the creativity and self-expression he could experience through painting was a refreshing change from the rigidity and discipline of soccer training. he even started to experiment with different techniques and art styles, and you could see the excitement and fascination on his face as he worked.

bachira shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "i guess i let my inner cynic take over at times," he said, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. "but honestly, sometimes it feels like that's all soccer is - just a bunch of dudes chasing after a ball and trying to score,"

you watch him dip his brush into the mixture of colors and then apply it to the canvas in a rapid series of strokes, creating an intricate pattern. "it's easy to forget that there's more to it than just that, and that the game can be so rewarding on so many different levels."

you smiled at his response, appreciating his willingness to share his thoughts and emotions. "i completely agree," you said, brushing paint onto the canvas. "sure, the thrill of scoring a goal is amazing, but there's so much more to the game than that. it's about teamwork, strategy, and determination. all things that can be applied to so many other aspects of life. it's what makes soccer such a universal and powerful sport, in my opinion."

you reach over to his side for a different brush from his toolkit to add a new texture or technique to his painting. you feel bachira's head nodding in agreement from your shoulder.

"exactly," he said as he looked over at your shoulder to gaze at your pretty face. "it's so much more than just a game - it's a way of life. and it's something that connects people from all over the world, regardless of race, religion, or language. it's a language that everyone can understand. a-and that's what makes it so special, in my opinion."

as the two of you sat together, surrounded by brushes, paints, and canvases, you couldn't help but notice the way bachira's eyes lit up with excitement whenever he talked about soccer or art. he took his time explaining the nuances of different strategies, and you found yourself getting lost in his passion for the game. you could tell that he was someone who loved diving deep into the details and figuring out the best way to approach a situation.

and it wasn't just his soccer stories that captivated you - bachira was an incredible artist too. you were really impressed. 'not bad for a first timer, huh?' you thought as you watched him humming a tune while painting. there was something truly captivating about watching him mix colors and apply them to a canvas, and you found yourself genuinely impressed by the beauty and depth of his creations. You could tell that he had a unique and powerful vision, and you felt honored to be a part of it.

clearing his throat, bachira decided to switch gears, "the way that painting helped me express my emotions and release stress," as he spoke, his voice became softer and his eyes more soulful, and you found yourself drawn in by his passion and eloquence. "and how every brushstroke was like a part of myself being transferred onto the canvas to be shared with the world."

as the two of you sat there, surrounded by the mess of paints, brushes, and canvases, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility and calm wash over you. bachira's words, filled with passion and emotion, echoed in your ears, making you feel as though you were the only two people in the world.

it was as if time had stopped in that moment, frozen in place, allowing you to fully savor the depth of feelings between you. the silence was broken only by the occasional brushstroke, the sound of pigment on canvas almost mesmerizing in its own right.

you found yourself being drawn in by bachira once again - his cute and focused expression on his face, and the little pout on his lips. and his eyes, his eyes are as though they were a window to his soul. the tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the electricity between you.

it was during this moment of connection that Bachira suddenly turned to you and spoke from the heart. "i love you," he said simply, but with a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat. the words hitting you like a bolt of lightning. it was like a shockwave that traveled through your entire being, leaving you speechless and overwhelmed with emotion.

it was as though all the pieces of your life had finally fallen into place, and you knew, in that moment, that you had found something truly special with bachira. the love between you was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel like you were the luckiest person in the world to have found someone who understood and appreciated you on such a deep level. the moment felt all too precious, and you were desperate to hold on to it forever.

feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who had become such an important part of your life, you whispered, "i love you too, meguru."

you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and hold him close.

and that's exactly what happened next. bachira pulled you into an embrace, his arms strong and comforting around you. you breathed in the scent of his hair and the warmth of his body, and felt a sense of contentment wash over you. for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world could possibly matter, except for the two of you in each other's arms.

but then, suddenly, you felt the sensation of a brushstroke on your cheek. bachira chuckled and pulled away from you, holding the brush in his hand. "i couldn't resist," he said with a boyish grin. "i thought a little bit of art on my sweet baby could add to the moment."

"wh-"

you watch as he dipped the brush into a jar of red paint and drew half of a heart on your cheek, using soft and careful strokes that made you feel as though your skin were being caressed. "what do you mean?"

then, he turned to his own cheek and you see him drawing the other half of the heart, before turning back to you.

"a little art that," he pressed his right cheek to your left so that the two halves of the heart joined together to form a full symbol of love and connection. "connects the both of us together."

you feel like you were going to cry then and there. the moment was so perfect, so full of both sweetness and passion, that you knew that it would be a memory that would stay with you forever. "because the heart that you gave to me is so special to me."

"meguru…"

he hears your faint whisper and looks at you.

"thank you,” you said softly, your voice tinged with both affection and reverence. “it’s so beautiful and meaningful…”

at the sound of your voice, bachira's eyes soften, and he leans closer to you, his breath warm on your cheek. you can feel the beat of his heart as it races against your own, and you know that you are both caught up in the same moment. it's as though the world has melted away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of sweet, shared emotions.

as bachira's lips brush against your ear, his voice is little more than a whisper. "y/n, you are like nothing else in this world, and the love that i feel for you is something that i will never take for granted.”

the words seem to hang in the air between you, like a precious jewel that you both want to hold onto forever. for a moment, it feels as though time has stopped, and the two of you are lost in each other's gaze. the world around you seems to have dissolved, leaving only the two of you and the love that you share.

bachira kissed your forehead ever so softly.

it's a moment that you know you'll never forget, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that feels like it could go on forever. in that moment, you feel like you are both the luckiest people in the world, surrounded by love and understanding that will see you through whatever life may throw your way. and you know that this will be a memory that will stay with you forever, a reminder of the magic that can exist in the world when two people find each other and allow themselves to fall completely, hopelessly in love.

for a moment, the two of you were lost in silence, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's presence. it was a quiet moment, yet it was full of a palpable sense of connection and appreciation. you felt like you had found something truly special in bachira, something that went beyond words. and you knew that it would be a friendship that would last a lifetime.

**BONUS!**

it was a quiet night in bachira's room, the air thick with the scent of paint and the soft sound of bachira's music wafting through the air. you and bachira were both painting, the two of you lost in the world of art and creativity that you shared.

as you worked on your canvas, you looked over at bachira's artwork and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for his skill and talent. "that actually is pretty art, bachira," you said quietly, your voice tinged with awe.

bachira looked up at you, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "well ofc it would be," he said, his tone teasing. "why, what did you think before?"

you felt a small flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a laugh. "i thought it was gonna be shit," you replied, your tone equally as teasing.

"y/n!" bachira whined, the sound making you laugh even harder.

the two of you continued to laugh, your voices filling the room with a sense of warmth and joy. it was moments like this that reminded you of just how special your relationship with bachira was, the way that you could be completely and utterly yourself around him and still be loved and appreciated for it.

it was then that bachira spoke, his voice soft and almost hesitant. "y/n," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "this actually connects us, yeah?"

your breath caught in your throat at the simple beauty of his words, and you couldn't help but feel a lump form in your throat. "of course it does," you said softly, your voice almost shaking with emotion. "it's a piece of art that represents the love that we have for each other, and that's something that will always connect us."

bachira smiled, his eyes full of a tender warmth that filled you with a sense of peace and love. it was in that moment that you knew that this was a moment that you would always remember, a moment of pure and unadulterated joy and emotion that was unlike anything else you had ever experienced.

@tsunag1, 2023 — i ws on a hiatus sorry guys! mm but now i’m back on the role 💪😼‼️woot pls like and reblog my works if you like it! it's helpful and is vv much appreciated, thank you for reading! ♡

#tsunag1! ♡#bllk bachira #bachira fluff #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #baby bachira #bachira meguru #bachira x you #bachira headcanons #bachira x reader #bachira imagines #bachira smut #blue lock #blue lock fluff

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team-gabriel · 4 years ago

Note

gonna submit something in a couple minutes! werewolf au related :D

oooooooooooh...! That is so good! I love this!

The creature – Simon – flattens its ears and bears its fangs the moment its eyes lock on Jack’s. He’s wolf-like in appearance – snout filled with sharp, dripping teeth, eyes a cold silver color, tawny fur covering his body…

Bright freezes in his tracks. He’s no stranger to seeing weird, messed up shit, and he likes to think that there isn’t many things out there that can catch him off guard… but this…

A low growl rises from the creature’s throat and draws Jack’s full attention back to the present situation. It drops the steak onto the floor with the rest of the mess – broken jars, shredded fridge-contents, all littering the normally clean kitchen – and, instead, its focus was now solely on what Jack could only assume was a new, fresh meal standing right in front of it…

Fuck…

“H-hey, Simon…” Bright begins in a quiet voice, slowly raising his palms in a show of submission. “Hey, buddy, you don’t wanna do this…”

Glass’ eyes are still locked on Bright, and he’s refusing to so much as blink. It was absolutely horrifying. Jack takes a slow, cautious step backward, praying that, by some miracle, Simon wouldn’t notice… He, of course, does – and responds by advancing closer, his sharp claws clicking dangerously on the linoleum floor with every creeping, deliberate step.

“Glass,” Bright warns again, trying to sound stern, but cursing the way his voice cracks. “Glass. Knock it off.”

The wolf (unsurprisingly) does not listen, instead, it simply continues to size Jack up, matching every careful step Bright takes backward… until Jack feels his back collide with the wall and he can move no further.

Shit.

“Simon,” Jack warns – pleads – once more, his voice barely a whisper at this point. “Please don’t…”

Bright knows he can’t die. Not actually… but still, getting mauled by your psychiatrist-turned-boyfriend-turned-werewolf was not something that Jack imagines would be a particularly pleasant way to go… Not that he really had many options left at this point, though…

Jack twists the amulet around, slipping the pendant down the back of his shirt, praying that Simon would not accidentally come into contact with it when he inevitably tore him to shreds…

He’s realistically done everything he possibly could at this point – Glass was staring him down, maybe 4 feet away – all Jack could do now was tuck his face to his chest, shielding his head and neck with his forearms in as much as a defensive position as he could manage… And, in that split second before he closes his eyes, he sees the creature lunge for him…

Bright tenses his body and waits for the end…

…which never comes?

Another moment passes, and he carefully opens an eye, looking up from his arms – Simon had lunged for him, but stopped after maybe a foot or so. Instead, he froze in an exaggerated soft of half-bowed stance. His eyes were still locked on Jack, but his ears were now perked straight.

“Simon…?” Bright asks in confusion after another second.

He straightens up a little bit, and Glass jumps in place a couple of times before immediately returning to that same half-bow position, his tail wagging intensely.

Wait… what…?

Jack can only look on in shock, still not entirely sure what to do in this situation… He crouches down, opening his arms slightly in an attempt to make his body language the least threatening that he possibly could.

Which…

…May have been a bit of a mistake.

Simon lunges forward again, only this time he does not stop. Instead, he collides with Jack with a surprising amount of force, knocking him back against the wall with a loud thud before toppling him over to the ground.

Bright finds himself lying flat on his back with what was starting to feel much less like a terrifying, bloodthirsty monster and more like a ridiculously oversized puppy pinning him to the kitchen floor – unable to turn his head in any way that could escape the cold, wet nose that was currently being pressed to his face, sniffing his hair intensely.

“Simon!” Jack tries his hardest to scold through the laughter. “Simon, stop it!” He tried again to push Glass away, but even with his full strength, he could barely move Simon. “…Jesus, you are strong,” Bright remarks again, still trying and failing to pry Glass away… Slowly coming to accept the fact that he is most likely going to be pinned here until Glass gets bored with his scent.

“Yep… that’s my face,” Bright says. “That’s my face. That’s my– hey, Simon, stop! Stop!” he shouts as Simon’s muzzle begins to trail toward his throat, getting dangerously close to the chain of his amulet. He lashes out, Bright’s hand collides with the side of his snout, eliciting a small high-pitched “yipe–!” from Simon, who (to Jack’s relief) quickly pulled his face away and stumbled off of Bright, finally allowing himself to get back on his feet.

Glass sits on the floor and gives Jack a soft whine, looking up to him with the most pitiful, rueful eyes that Bright has ever seen.

Oh, you have got to be kidding…

“No,” Jack enunciates slowly and clearly, like one would a toddler, as he holds his ground, pointing at the necklace around his throat. “No. Bad. We stay away from this.”

Glass is still whimpering, staring at Jack like, well… a literal kicked puppy…

“Come on, Si. I barely even tapped you. Quit being dramatic.”

Another whine and Bright sighs in defeat.

“Fine,” he says, crouching back down in front of the werewolf. “Come he– oomph!”

Jack barely had the opportunity to finish his sentence when Glass bounds forward, knocking Bright right back to the floor once more – his tail wagging excitedly as he quite literally licked Jack’s face.

“Simon, no! Yuck!” Bright exclaims, again trying and failing to pry Glass away. “Stop it, Simon! That’s so gross!”

…This was going to be a long night.

#oooooh 👀👀#possumsquid #werewolf au

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scribblessims · 7 years ago

Photo

Year 1 Round Up: 2 Founders’ Loop, home of the Lane and Green Families. Casilda Lane: has been the town grocer since community lots were unlocked, though until Elanor Green qualified for a business career she was the technical owner of the grocery. Despite wanting loads of children, Casilda didn’t hit it off with any of the available men during the first week of New Edenia, and didn’t make a good enough impression on the only townie she dated to move him in before townies were banned. During the second week, she wooed and wed newcomer Toby Torrell quickly, and he moved in shortly after her previous rommate, Sura Kyo, moved out. In late fall, she became a plantsim, and she’s so far had three children: Valeria Lane, now a toddler, and twins Lucas and Julia. She was abducted on day 19 and is currently pregnant with an alien spawn. Four out of six children down, and 2 to go. She is a full time mother to them, her orchard, and her bees.

Toby Lane, nee Torrell: currently in the law career. Toby arrived on day 7, and originally stayed at 1 Founders’ loop back when that was the bachelor pad of choice. He earned his own entry to the law career by beating up a townie on a community lot and learning Couples’ Counseling, which also allowed me to have sims come to him for “advice” on improving their relationships. (And theirs seems to be the only marriage in town that doesn’t need it... yipe.) Toby is not going to own a business because Elanor already has too many because he’s going to have an office in City Hall that he pays for as he advances in the law career.

Elanor Green: Elanor was the second of the first two arrivals, and she needs to get into the business career ANY DAY NOW. She owns Brick-a-Brack, the first store allowed to sell primarily catalog items and not crafts, Green Lake Swimming Hole, the first venue and also the only place to exercise (because of the swimmable lake) until June Cleeve maxes her body skill, and the farmers’ market. She’s probably the richest sim in New Edenia.

She’s been casually dating both Gibson Mawar-Du Vall and townie Tyro Apophis, and if she rolls the want to propose to Tyro I’ll have her and Gibson break it off. She wants to top, or nearly top, the business career before having an heir, and marriage isn’t a priority (nor is continuing to fuel the baby boom in this neighborhood) so I am not going to rush it. Valeria Lane: Likes the xylophone.

Lucas and Julia Lane: Are babies.

#the sims 2 #BACC #New Edenia

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i-am-made-of-memoriies · 7 years ago

Text

The Will of Fire (part 2)

A/N: Would you look at that? I’ve finished my first two-shot! Yipee!

Part one

“Come on Kohei!” Sakura coaxed, holding the spoon to the three year old’s mouth, “You have to eat some of it!”

“Mama no!” Kohei insisted, shaking his head defiantly, “I want Sarda-neechan to feed me!”

“Kohei sweetie, it’s Sarada, and she’s out on a mission. Please eat. She’d want you to.”

Sarada sneezed. Must be someone talking about me. She thought, adjusting her pack on her back. She was the captain of her first mission. Though she was still a chunin, Naruto-sama had entrusted her because of her recently fully-awakened sharingan.

“If worse comes to worse, you can always hypnotize them into doing the right thing.” Sarada remembered Naruto’s words before she left for the mission. Though he was right, Sarada was really hoping that she wouldn’t have to resort to those measures.

“Sarada-taicho,” the shortest of her subordinates started, “I can sense the Tsurigakure ninja approaching quickly. Shall we fight them?”

“According to the bingo books, they should be an easy fight.” She replied, reaching for her newly acquired katana, “Why don’t we indulge them?”

The the chunin assembled in a fighting position with Sarada in the front.

“Akoto,” she ordered, motioning to the chunin she had previously spoke to, “Stand in the back. As the healer on this team, we can’t afford having you hurt.”

“Yes Sarada-taicho.” Akoto replied, making her way to the back of the formation.

Sarada activated her sharingan and quickly scanned the area. She saw the Tsuri ninja and almost chuckled. Their chakra levels were ridiculously low and they were already arguing. Being a good shinobi, Sarada knew not to immediately judge ninja by their first appearance, but she was more than positive that they weren’t hiding their chakra.

The sub-par ninja came into the clearing, weapons brandished in the least intimidating way possible.

“You are Konoha ninja!” The supposed leader exclaimed, “We will take your precious information now and you will fail your mission while we will triumph!”

Sarada used the shunshin jutsu to appear right behind the trio.

“Didn’t you ever learn not to announce your plan before executing it?” She asked icily.

The Tsuri ninja turned their heads slowly, finally turning around and looking into Sarada’s spinning tomoe.

Akoto stifled a giggle as the trio of pathetic ninja fell like sandbags to the ground.

“I should have let you guys do a bit of the fighting.” Sarada apologized, “It’s just that they were so easy to take down, I would have been unnecessarily drawing out the fight by not taking action.”

“It’s okay taicho.” The tallest of the chunin, Yuji smiled, reassuring Sarada.

“We’re almost at Sunagakure, let’s get this scroll there and be done.” Sarada took out her long braid and coiled the wavy hair into a bun. That braid kept slapping me anyway. She thought.

“Good job you four.” Naruto placed their mission report on his desk and smiled, “I knew you wouldn’t let me down Sarada.”

Sarada grinned. She realized that today was probably the best day to ask the question she’d wanted to ask since she joined the academy. The question she’d wanted to ask since Boruto selfishly took her father as his sishou, and stole him from her. She’d moved passed the feeling of jealousy and realized that having her father as a sishou probably wasn’t the greatest idea for her, since she wanted to follow a far different path.

Once the other chunin had left, Sarada took a deep breath and walked closer to Naruto. “Hokage-sama,” she started, trying to make her voice as solid and confident as possible, “I was wondering if you would take me on as your apprentice. I understand that you don’t have much time, but I promise to work hard and carry on the will of fire.”

Naruto looked rather surprised for a second before his lips curved into a smile. “With the rapid development I’ve seen from you and the deep care for your comrades and your village, I would be happy to teach you.”

Sarada tried her best not to scream. “Thank you so much Naruto-shishou!” She exclaimed, “I promise to never slack off!”

“I’ll hold you to that.” He glanced at his packed schedule and sighed, “Let’s meet on Sunday at noon. I’ll take you to Ichiraku’s afterwards.”

“I’ll see you then.” Sarada practically skipped out of the office. She ran back home, wanting to tell her parents and Kohei as soon as possible.

“Mama, Papa, Kohei!” She exclaimed happily as she burst through the door, “Guess what?”

Sakura looked up from her medical textbook and smiled at her daughter, “Well you seem mighty happy, it must be something good!”

“Yeah!” Kohei agreed, grinning with his little toddler smile, “Sarada-nee chan is awesome!”

“Thank you Kohei.” Sarada gave her little brother a hug, “Naruto-sama agreed to be my sishou!”

“That’s wonderful sweetie!” Sakura beamed, “First you fully awaken your sharingan, then you captain your first mission, then Naruto decides to be your sishou, this seems to be quite the amazing month! Let’s go eat something special as a family.”

“You’re just saying that so you don’t have to cook dinner.” Sasuke muttered, placing Kohei on his waist.

“I was going to go to that really fancy sushi restaurant, but if you want my sub-par cooking, it’s up to you.”

Sasuke looked away. “Hn.”

“Anyway, freshen up Sarada-chan. Put on something nice too.”

Sarada opened the door to her room, smiling at the uchiwa painted on her door. She really hoped that she made her ancestors proud.

Sarada pulled on her embroidered tunic and adjusted the back so the uchiwa was centered. Then she chose her favorite black pants and flats.

“I’m ready mama!” She called, standing in front of the door.

Sakura came bustling down the stairs, trying to put Kohei’s shoes on while he kicked and flailed.

“I’ve got it mama.” Sarada came to the rescue as she sat Kohei on her lap and slid the shoes on with ease. “Let’s go get something to eat, ‘kay?” She tickled her brother’s stomach and placed him on her shoulders.

“Now that you three are back from your respective training excursions,” Naruto started, smiling at Sarada, Boruto, and Mitsuki, “I want to send you on a mission. It’s A rank, but I believe that you will be able to handle it.”

“Mitsuki, you will be in charge of medical ninjutsu and healing, since Sakura’s your apprentice, and as for Sarada and Boruto, you guys will just beat up the bad guys.”

“Sounds good sishou.” Sarada replied, “I heard that there has been some previous interaction with the village we will be going to, Jomae no Sato right?”

“Yes, back when I was a genin, they sent a kunoichi to infiltrate, but she-ehm, was good friends with Kakashi and committed suicide instead of following her village.”

“Do they still feel hostile towards the leaf?” Sarada wasn’t necessarily worried since she fully trusted her teammates, but it would be a lot easier if everyone was friendly.

“They haven’t shown blatant outward hostility, but given the fact that we are stealing information from them, they’ll be angry if they ever find out.” Naruto rolled up the mission scroll and handed it to Sarada, “I will be trusting this with you. Remember, your job is to get into their information storage room, steal the scroll in question, now this is your part Sarada, I need you to make an exact replica with your sharingan. Once the replica is made, place it where you found the original and high-tail it out of there. Try not to involve in combat, but you have my permission to do whatever’s necessary.”

“Yes sir!” The three said in unison.

It was entirely her fault. Sarada looked at the blood soaked battlefield, where the unconscious bodies of her teammates lay prone to further damage. She wasn’t able to protect them, and her replica was faulty. If her teammates, the people that lay closest to her heart, were to die, she would have practically killed them. She would have killed her best friends. As she desperately held back tears, a sharp, debilitating pain blossomed behind her eyes, forcing her to scream in agony and fall to her knees. It felt as if someone was tugging at her eyes and dicing them into pieces. All Sarada could see was a searing white; at this point she wasn’t entirely sure if she was screaming anymore, for all she knew she could be dead in hell. All she could think of is her teammates blood on her hands, and the way her parents and shisou would look at her with disappointed eyes. Naruto had trusted her and she had failed. She didn’t deserve to follow her dream. She didn’t deserve to ever become Hokage!

Suddenly the pain subsided. Sarada opened her eyes, gasping when she realized that the world was clearer than it had even been with her sharingan. She didn’t linger on that thought long though because she soon saw the figures of her assailants. They were smirking at her teammates fallen bodies, making rage bubble and boil in Sarada’s body. She stepped closer to ninja, wiping blood off her face. Where that blood came from, and to whom it belonged, she didn’t know, nor did she care. All she cared about was killing those sons of bitches. She wanted them to feel the pain she did, all the guilt and terror she had been subjected to in the past hour, she wanted to unleash on them tenfold. Suddenly, she realized that she could. She looked into their eyes, instinctively pulling them into a genjutsu. She marveled at the plane, embracing the blood red sky and the amount of torture she’d be able to subject them to in this new world.

They were tied to stakes as Sarada repeatedly stabbed them, using any material she could imagine. In her rage, she didn’t notice how truly evil she was being. For once in her life, all she could think about was doing harm to people.

After what seemed like ages, she broke the genjutsu. She looked at her teammates, noticing that their blood had hardly spread, meaning that her genjutsu had lasted mere seconds, not hours.

Suddenly the implications of what she had done caught up to her. She was hit by a wave of severe nausea and proceeded to empty her stomach on the ground in front of her. Getting over her sudden sickness, she hoisted her teammates onto her shoulders and began to make her way back to the village. She ignored the searing pain that plagued every part of her body and forced herself forward.

Finally the gates were in view. She practically sobbed once she saw the beautiful village she called home, and used the last of her energy to walk into the village before collapsing.

Everything hurt. Not as much as it did before she passed out, but it still hurt. Sarada forced her eyes open, just to quickly shut them again once she saw the bright, white lights.

“Sarada, you’re awake.” A familiar voice said from beside her bed.

Sarada opened her eyes again and turned her head to see the person who spoke. It was Naruto. Sarada fought back the strong urge to cry. “I failed shishou.”

She whispered, her throat felt like sandpaper.

“You did your absolute best.” Naruto replied, patting Sarada’s hand, “Boruto and Mitsuki haven’t woken up yet, but would you like to tell me what happened. I already struck an alliance with Jomoe no Sato once they realized that the scroll you took originally belonged to the leaf village, so don’t worry.”

Sarada sighed in relief. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, trying not to visibly cringe in pain.

“The mission went well up until we took the scroll.” She started, taking a sip of water from the glass beside her bed. With a far less painful throat, she continued louder, “Somehow the guard knew we were in there despite completely cloaking our chakra. When we heard his footsteps, I made the replica really quickly, and messed up a bit. The guard noticed that and sent their top ninja to intercept us. We tried really hard to fight them, but there were three of us and ten of them, all jonin or tokubetsu jonin level. Mitsuki and Boruto got hurt first, then something weird happened. For some reason it’s kind of foggy, but my eyes started to really hurt. And I mean like really hurt. After that, I can’t really remember what happened. All I know it that I missed only about three seconds, but the enemy ninja were dead once I regained-well, vision.”

Sarada turned to look at Naruto’s expression. Instead of looking disappointed, he looked slightly frightened. “I’m going to get Sasuke.” He announced, “I suppose I don’t have to tell you to stay put.”

Sarada leaned back into the pillows and closed her eyes, drifting into blissful unconsciousness until she was awoken by someone lightly shaking her. She opened her eyes again, noting how it was substantially less painful.

“Papa.” She whispered, hugging her father as tightly as she could.

Sasuke looked affectionately at his daughter before switching to a more serious expression.

“Activate your sharingan.” He commanded, looking Sarada dead in the eye.

Sarada did as she was told, noting the clarity in her vision.

“Now try to do the same thing again.”

She looked at her father with a confused expression, but ultimately followed his instructions. Instead of having nothing happen as she expected, her vision became clearer, and some of the pain returned.

Sasuke handed Sarada a handheld mirror. “What you see in that mirror is the next stage of the sharingan, called the mangekyo sharingan. I had hoped you would never have to get to this stage, but I will take you to the Nakano Shrine once you are discharged.”

Sarada looked at her reflection, gasping when she saw that her eyes were not the three tomoe she was accustomed to, but instead a black cherry blossom in a red background. “What can I do with the mangekyo sharingan?” She asked, blinking several times to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

“From your description, it seems like you can use the Tsukiyomi like your uncle Itachi.” Sasuke replied placing the mirror on the bedside table, “We will talk more about it once you have recovered, Sakura and Kohei want to see you.”

Right on cue, two pink haired, green eyed people came into the room, both rushing in for a hug.

“Sarada-neechan!” Kohei exclaimed, hugging his big sister, “You’re going to get better right?”

“Of course!” Sarada said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, “I’ll better before you know it!”

“Well I can make that happen Sarada sweetie.” Sakura said, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Now that you’re out of critical condition when I can’t operate on you because you’re family, that rule is crap anyway, I can fix you up so you’re good as new. Those doctors don’t know what they’re doing. Trust your mama!”

Sarada nodded, eager to feel at least a little less crappy.

Sakura leaned over her daughter and smiled, placing her calloused palms on Sarada’s abdomen. “I’m so proud of you sweetie.”

Sarada was well aware of the rules of the mangekyo sharingan: don’t use it unless absolutely necessary and be careful to not lose control or you may harm those close to you, but she really wanted to stick Boruto into a Tsukiyomi of him tripping over a rock for all of eternity. It would be so very hilarious and not to mention, Sarada would be able to practice using the technique. The only way she was allowed to practice was using regular genjutsu and trying to replicate the terrain. It was far from the same though.

At the moment, she was in charge of training her favorite Shin clone named Kenji. More than anything, she wanted to help him with his mangekyo sharingan, but she was not allowed.

“The best use of your sharingan disguising it with transformation jutsu then getting your enemy to look into your eyes, effectively trapping them in genjutsu.” She instructed, demonstrating the transformation technique on her eyes, “Now I want you to try it on Boruto.”

“Wait!” Boruto exclaimed indignantly, “Why can’t Kenji try it on you?!”

“Because I’m a sharingan weilder baka-Boruto. I might accidentally reverse the genjutsu and hurt him.”

“Fine.” Boruto pouted, tensing his muscles in anticipation.

Kenji looked at Boruto, his eyes a natural brown. As soon as the two had made eye contact, Boruto crumpled to the ground like a drunk.

“Have I hurt him?” Kenji asked monotonously, “Kabuto told me to feel remorse if I have injured someone.”

“No, he’s fine.” Sarada assured, slapping the Uzumaki.

Boruto woke up with a jolt. “Damn you Sarada-teme!” He exclaimed, “You only did that to humiliate me!”

“That wasn’t the only reason…” She teased, helping her teammate to his feet.

Kenji was dead. His death didn’t come as a surprise, in fact, many Shin clones were dying because of some unknown illness that ran in their genes. Despite the forewarning, Sarada was still devastated. Kenji was the closest person Sarada had to an apprentice and he held a close place in her heart as a second brother, even if Kenji didn’t have the capacity to love her. His blunt personality reminded her of Mitsuki, and the fact that she could get along with a Shin clone meant that she was moving on from her childhood grievances.

“Sarada-san?” One of the workers at the orphanage called her name, “If Uchiha Sarada would report to Kabuto-sama’s office, he has something to tell her.”

Sarada stood up and made her way through the brightly painted hallways and towards Kabuto’s office.

“Ah, Sarada!” Kabuto exclaimed, motioning for her to come through the doorway, “As you’ve probably heard, our lovely Kenji has passed away.” His unnaturally pale face dropped in sadness, “Before he died though, he did something rather uncharacteristic for a Shin clone. He showed emotion and asked if he could give you his eyes as a gift.”

“H-he did?” Sarada asked incredulously, “He knew what that would imply, since we were practically siblings?”

“I believe that he did understand that if he gave you his eyes, you would achieve the Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan.” Kabuto replied knowingly. He swiveled around in his rolling chair and rummaged through his file cabinets. When he had turned back around, he was holding two vials filled with some kind of preserving serum and a sharingan eye suspended in the center. He looked at the vials with a melancholy expression.

“I hope they serve you well.” He said, handing the vials to Sarada.

“Thank you.” She replied, walking towards the cemetery.

She knew she had spent at least an hour sitting in front of Kenji’s grave, thanking him profusely for the gift, shedding tears over the fact that she would never see him again, and reminiscing over his sadly brief life.

As she was about to stand up and leave, Shizune placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Sakura told me about what happened.” She wrapped the girl in a warm and loving embrace, “I know this isn’t what you want to be talking about right now, but we need to plan the implant surgery.”

Sarada nodded, wiping away tears. She took a shaky breath, “When’s the earliest date that we can do it? I just want to get it over with.”

“We can perform the surgery today if you would like.” Shizune replied, placing her hands on Sarada’s shoulders.

“I-I would like that.” Sarada combed her long black hair out of her face and straightened her glasses. “May I go home first and spend the day with my family?”

“Of course. Report to the hospital at seven o’clock tonight.”

Sarada nodded and began to walk to the Uchiha complex. She had just lost someone she considered family, and she wanted nothing but to be around the rest of her family, to make sure she didn’t lose them.

“Kohei!” She called, running towards her little brother, “How was your day?”

“Mama said that she’d start training me soon since I’m gonna go to the academy next year!” He said enthusiastically, “Did ya know that I’m five now Sarada-neechan?” He held up five chubby fingers, “That’s a whole hand!”

“I heard!” She walked with him to the front door, “Once you start training and get really strong, you can spar with me.” Thoughts of the spars she had with Kenji flashed in her mind, causing her to frown.

“What’s wrong oneechan?” He looked at her worriedly with his big green eyes, “Are ya hungry? Mama’s making dinner.”

“That’s great. Dinner will make me feel all better.” She smiled brightly at her little brother, “You always know how to fix things, don’t you?”

“Yep!” Sarada couldn’t resist the urge to squeeze him tightly.

“I will always love you Kohei.” She whispered, her cheek right on top of his soft, pink hair.

The mission was supposed to be very dangerous. That’s why Naruto had sent Sarada, Mitsuki, Boruto, and Mirai as they were the most promising ninja of their generation.

“Our job is simply to take out the enemies where they stand.” Mirai instructed, looking at the new team seven with her large red eyes, “There is absolutely no time to reason or speak with the enemies. This is purely an assassination mission.”

“If it’s an assassination mission, why aren’t ANBU members doing it?” Boruto crossed his arms indignantly, “Silent killing isn’t really my style.”

Sarada decided to mess with Boruto a bit. Using a simple shunshin jutsu, she appeared behind Boruto, “It is my style.” She whispered icily, flashing her sharingan.

“What the hell Sarada?! That was really scary!”

“Stop messing around.” Mirai said with a serious tone. “If you’re not going to take this mission seriously, we can turn back right now and Hokage-sama can hear all about how his prestigious student and his son were simply too immature to handle the mission they were assigned to. As for the reason no ANBU were assigned, they’re all out on their respective missions.”

“Sorry taicho.” Boruto and Sarada apologized in unison, glaring at each other.

“My teammates can be strange sometimes.” Mitsuki spoke on their behalf, “I don’t understand their behavior fully, but I believe that it is called rivalry. I am yet to find someone I would consider a rival.”

“That’s great Mitsuki. Let’s get back to the mission now.” Boruto patted his teammate on the back. “So can I come out and blow everything to bits with my flashy moves? Then the enemies will be so scared that they’ll let us kill them without any hesitation!”

“You sound just like your gennin self. You really haven’t changed at all.” Sarada looked at Boruto disapprovingly, “And no. Didn’t you hear taicho? This is a silent killing mission.”

“Fine, fine.” Boruto whined. “You seem like you’re in a particularly deadly mood, why don’t you do the assassination?”

“I think I will.” Sarada hissed, pulling on the black gloves her mother had given her.

All it took was one glance from Sarada and the enemies were trapped in her genjutsu. Without sparing them a minute, Mitsuki plunged his kunai into each of their hearts, killing them instantly.

“Good job you two.” Mirai commended, “Now Boruto and I will dispose of the bodies.”

“Does this mean I get to burn shit?” Boruto asked enthusiastically.

“Yes.” Mirai sighed, “Yes it does.”

The two leaned over the corpses, Mirai incinerating them with her signature Sarutobi jutsu and Boruto just threw whatever flame jutsus he had picked up at the bodies.

“Careful you idiot!” Sarada exclaimed, dodging an errant spark, “You’re supposed to incinerate the bodies not us.”

“Sorry Sarada-teme.” Boruto said with mock remorse.

Finally, a mission had gone without a hitch.

“Great, so we finish an S class mission successfully, but return to a goddamn attack?” Boruto exclaimed incredulously, “Nothing can ever go right can it?”

“No it can’t.” Sarada agreed, making her way through the rubble that was the west side of the village. “Did the civilians evacuate?”

A jonin stepped towards Sarada, “I believe that most of them have exited the village, but there might be some people left behind.”

“I’ll find them and evacuate them.” Sarada replied, “I’m sure my parents would be happy to take out the enemy.”

“Sasuke and Sakura-sama are already on it.” The jonin replied. A look of horror passed over his face, “Sakura-sama was in the middle of a load of laundry when she was called to defend the village, so she’s-well….irritated.”

“And their son, Kohei?” Sarada asked worriedly, roundhouse kicking on of the enemy’s subordinates into a building.

“He evacuated safely with the rest of the Konoha Academy underclassmen.”

“Thank god. I’m going to scour the village. Boruto, you deal with these annoying pests.” She motioned towards the dozens of Tsurigakure ninja that had decided to attack the leaf village. “I think they’re bitter about that time my team took out their ‘best’ shinobi.”

Sarada hoped that this attack would be as easy to stop as the one all those years ago, but a nagging voice in the back of her head told her differently.

Running through the damage, Sarada spotted a congregation of people. Upon arriving, she noticed that the civilians were circling around someone. After she pushed her way to the center, she noticed the nanadaime.

“Sarada!” He exclaimed with relief, “I’m glad you, Boruto, Mitsuki, and Mirai made it home safely. As you can see, we’re in a bit of a tight-”

Naruto was interrupted by a falling boulder. In the split second before it hit, Sarada had to make a decision. Judging from the size and angle of the rock, it would hit mostly civilians, but still injure the nanadaime. Sarada knew her duty was to protect the hokage with her life, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she was responsible for the deaths of a myriad of civilians. Confident enough that Naruto could protect himself, Sarada activated her cherry-blossom pink susanoo for the first time and shielded the civilians.

Just as she had hoped, Naruto flash-stepped out of the way just in time, leaving everyone unharmed.

“That was an impressive maneuver.” Naruto commended his student, “I’m glad you made the right choice.”

After the Tsurigakure ninja had been dealt with and subsequently severely punished, Naruto called Sarada to his office.

“Since you have been my student, you have proven that you possess all of the traits necessary for the ideal Konoha shinobi. The will of fire seems to run very strongly in you and you never fail to protect a comrade. You wield your sharingan with grace and use your chakra enhanced strength expertly. I have no doubt you’ll represent the village spectacularly as the next Hokage.” Naruto gave Sarada a warm smile.

Sarada felt faint. Really, really faint. She was going to be the next Hokage. Oh god. The next Hokage. Like the. Next. Hokage. “Naruto-sama…” she began shakily, “I can’t believe-oh my lord, thank you! I promise to never let the village down and to protect it with my life! I mean it!”

The rosy hues of morning filled Sarada’s bedroom, bathing her bed in a soft light. She opened her eyes and smiled with anticipation since today was the day she’d become Hokage.

Stepping off her bed, she put her red glasses on and moved towards her wardrobe, knowing exactly what she would wear.

You should look formal but not overdressed. Sarada remembered her mother’s words, picking out her burgundy tunic, soft, black pants, and of course, her Hokage robe.

“Sarada!” Sakura called from downstairs, “Breakfast’s ready. You don’t want to be late for your big day!

“Coming Mama!” She replied, walking out of her room and to the kitchen. A warm plate of eggs, toast, and fruit sat waiting for Sarada at the table.

“I can’t believe my girl has gotten so grown up.” Sakura sighed, squeezing her oldest child, “Eat up sweetie. You want to be well fed so that you can show everyone how great the Uchihas are!”

“Of course!” Sarada exclaimed, smiling brightly, “I’m going to become the greatest Hokage!”

“I have no doubt darling.” Sakura fought back tears of joy as she saw her daughter walk out of the house, white robe fluttering behind her. The first Uchiha Hokage.

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