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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

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BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

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His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Miranda x Maiden ----Thaw

This fic is a Ko-Fi commission I wrote for the wonderful @uni--tea looking out for all you Miranda lovers. I hope you enjoy!

They have been working non-stop for the better part of the day in her lab.

Miranda only suspects how late it has gotten when she looks up from her microscope, to find her protege slightly slumped over several notes. A stance highly uncharacteristic of the girl with the permanently square shoulders and regal posture... which prompts her to check the time.

It is well past midnight.

That certainly explains a lot.

Carefully, the blonde puts her samples back in their containers for later study, then pushes off her desk, towards her assistant. The very same one she has tired out with experiments, both on her atypical Cadou and on others, since the late morning.

Something inside Miranda feels… strange, at the realization. A hint bitter, a tad irked at herself.

“Abigail.” The quiet call breaks the silence of the laboratory. The girl does not have to turn much, for the blonde is already leaning over her shoulder, golden-clawed hand resting there almost as a reprimand. “Why did you not tell me to leave earlier?”

“I know you better than to expect that would have changed anything.” comes the straight answer, as one brown and one red eye lock with Miranda’s icy blue.

That… is true, she will admit, but the fact remains she could have spoken up about being overworked by her. Or, at the very least, asked for a break so she could eat, instead of going the whole day –all of those taxing tests!— with an empty stomach. Miranda cannot tell why that fact suddenly bothers her as much as it does.

“You’re exhausted. We’re leaving.” she announces.

“I—no. I’m fine. I know you’re not done yet.” Abigail protests, but the talons on her shoulder move up to her nape, pressing in, in what is both a caress and a reproach.

Crystal eyes watch as she tries, not-quite-successfully, to suppress a shiver. Miranda’s lip quirks. She knows how her protege loves it when she does that.

“Do not argue with me. I said, we’re leaving.”

The stronghold is eerily quiet at night. The Lycans’ howling throughout the forest does not penetrate its thick walls in the slightest, leaving the interior a bastion of tranquility.

Miranda walks beside Abigail, the pair occasionally highlighted by the moonlight that steams in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

At the grand hallway that separates their rooms, the girl turns to bid her goodnight, but the blonde only tugs on her black side-cloak, a silent command to proceed further along.

It is a cold night in the heart of winter. A goddess will not wait for her bed to warm itself. That is how she justifies her decision to herself, anyway.

“You can shower first. I have to call Alcina and make sure the task I assigned to her is coming along well.” Miranda says.

Abigail gives a nod. Her clever fingers make quick work of the many clasps of her outfit. Miranda’s gaze does not leave her, until the protege disappears into the bathroom, clothes loose yet still hanging on her person.

As much as Abigail's pride will not ever let her admit it, she is extremely self-conscious of undressing in front of Miranda still, of leaving her black-hued side and arm into view. The goddess, of course, does not see why.

She is a miracle, her very existence, the way the Cadou has so flawlessly assimilated into her form as to become her left side. Other than the coloration, the mutation is perfect. And perfection should not be hidden away.

Still, she respects her protege’s bounds and extinguishes any and all artificial lights when they lay together.

Miranda makes her phone-call, aware of Abigail finishing her shower just as she concludes her business with Alcina. By the time she removes her talons and godly embroidery, the girl has vacated the space for her.

The hot water does wonders for the blonde’s skin when it finally graces it. The tension of the day bleeds away, slowly rolls down the drain. She is getting closer to her goal, she muses. Nothing can stop her. Nothing will. Soon…

Soon.

Miranda dresses in a simple black blouse and pants, then dries her hair before walking to bed. The moon’s light illuminates the subtle toning of Abigail’s back nicely, she notes, admiring the sight for a moment. The girl is motionless under her heavy blankets, which probably means she’s fast asleep.

Miranda slips in next to her –the queen-sized mattress is indeed wonderfully warmed– and careful as her movements are, the girl still wakes. Such a light sleeper.

Well, since she’s awake now anyway… Miranda takes advantage by gripping the silken hair at the base of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

It’s not an unfamiliar dance between them at this point and Abigail knows she can touch when Miranda gives her the green light. One liplock turns to more, with tongues languidly brushing and fingers toying with the idea of slipping under tops.

The girl, however, does seem exhausted when Miranda draws back to look at her, so she retreats to her side and leaves Abigail to hers. Her confused expression is adorable. They’ve never started something without finishing it before, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Go to sleep.” They’ve done much for this to be what makes the protege flush red. She hides it away from the moonlight, yet Miranda notices, regardless.

“What?” she asks.

“...Nothing.”

“Say what’s on your mind.” she presses.

“You’re just. Ugh. ...you’re just breathtakingly beautiful like this.” It’s an admission muffled into a pillow, so rapid a normal human may have not even caught the words. The girl turns right around, her back to Miranda after she speaks, bidding a tiny, quiet “Goodnight.”

But the blonde is left there staring at her, a peculiar warmth creeping up her stomach, to the ice-filled cavity of her chest. She wants to genuinely laugh but she’s forgotten how and at the same time gather this precious gem she’s got in her bed into her arms.

And then the scientist in her breaks the haze with a startling realization; these are endorphins and brain chemicals inducing this state, which can only mean one thing…

Oh, no.

She has developed feelings for her protege.

#mother miranda #mother miranda x oc #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #Alcina Dimitrescu mentioned #fanfiction #writing #thawing the ice queen #my art

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bcbdrums · 2 years

Text

Melon Musings

A/N: This will only make sense to readers of The Watermelon Saga short stories. Have some humor.

This is also a last-second entry into @sharperthewriter's KP 20th Anniversary fanfic contest.

Read on: FFn AO3

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

Drakken was silent yet grinning proudly as he and Shego walked side-by-side in the park, a cool breeze blowing the leaves of the surrounding trees as the sun just began its dip in the sky. The reason for his pride was twofold on that day, the first and a daily source of fulfillment being Shego on his arm. The second reason was that her large baby bump was shown off unashamedly in the teal dress she wore.

Save for their atypically-hued skin drawing the attention of passersby, they could have passed for any other expecting couple, she with his jacket around her shoulders and he carefully assisting her steps with her hand in his, her bump obscuring the path ahead of them.

"It's still too...pretty," Shego said, her expression twisted in a concerned grimace.

Drakken took a deep breath to speak, his grin broadening, but Shego cut him off.

"I know, I know. You like pretty stuff."

Drakken observed the pattern of the maternity dress his mother had gifted to Shego. Quite unlike the clothing of the older generation, this dress was modern and becoming with a spray of daises at the hem, petals fluttering up the teal skirt as if lifted by the wind. There was a narrow sash with a demure bow just below the bust, and a few decorative buttons at the center up to the scoop neckline and wide straps of the dress.

It was incredibly becoming from Drakken's point of view, and he knew that while Shego didn't want to admit to it, dresses were far easier to wear in the third trimester.

He was contemplating the best response when a familiar shock of red hair caught his attention with a sudden alarm being raised in his head.

"Drakken...is that...?"

Shego had noticed too, and as they continued down the path they exchanged a glance as they both saw that it was indeed Kim Possible and her one-time side-kick turned boyfriend now...or apparently husband, if the glint of gold on their fingers was any indication. Another was the small but unmistakable bump similar to Shego's the younger woman possessed, plainly visible from where the two sat on a blanket on a lawn enjoying a picnic.

The younger couple noticed their approach a moment later, and there was a tense moment where the four regarded each other in uncertainty. They hadn't had much contact since the invasion incident and it was strange to Drakken to see the pair, while still young, clearly in a more mature and grounded phase of life.

They had walked to within ten feet of the seated duo and Stoppable opened his mouth in greeting, but something else caught Drakken's attention first, his focus shifting entirely.

Among their picnic meal was a large watermelon cut in half with some divots in one section where a spoon had been used to carve out some of the liquid-rich fruit onto their plates. Possible was currently eating a piece of the dripping, red fruit, licking her lips where the juice had dribbled off of her fork and was escaping toward her chin.

"Dr. Drakken! Shego!" was Stoppable's nervous but gleeful cry of welcome. The young man stood up, his pet naked mole-rat on his shoulder.

Instincts of panic and a need to impress overtook the blue-skinned man, and he drew himself up to full height.

"Don't...! You can't stop me this time, Kim Possible, my plan is—"

"Ohhh when did you two get hitched?" Stoppable said, grinning at Shego's baby bump. "Would it be presumptuous to guess about nine months ago?"

"Why— You—! Neghn!"

"Just hush," Shego whispered to him through gritted teeth. "And keep walking."

It was a decent plan, but the young man was in front of them, barring their path in an instant.

"As you can see, KP and I have also tied the knot," Stoppable said, grinning proudly at his bride who was standing up, plate of watermelon still in hand. He stepped back to set an arm around her and then gestured to the swell of her belly with a proud grin. "Got this little surprise on our honeymoon!"

"Ron!"

"Yep, life has certainly changed since the invasion..." the young man continued with a dreamy smile, and then he leaned forward to nudge Drakken's arm and winked at him. "For the better. When did you two receive your...surprise?"

Drakken cleared his throat, blushing at the youth's lack of decorum.

"Unlike you, we received an education on protection," Shego said idly, her eyes straying from Kim's baby bump up to the plate of fruit which she frowned at.

Drakken's brow twisted and he leaned down to whisper in Shego's ear.

"But we didn't use— Ow!"

The blond-haired man grinned and chuckled nervously, and something about the look in his eye suggested there was more to the story about the child they were expecting. But Drakken had no interest in hearing anything about it. His concern was the way Shego's frown kept deepening the more she looked at the giant halves of watermelon on the picnic blanket and the plate that the red-haired woman continued to enjoy in front of them.

"So, ah...you two are obviously...doing well," Possible—or, Drakken supposed her last name was Stoppable now—asked, her mouth full.

"We are," Drakken said emphatically.

"I see... Traded in world domination for the domestic life," Ron mused with a grin. "Yeahhh... We've had to put the world-saving aside now that we're expecting. But I do miss the good old days. Blowing up your lair in the Caribbean... Blowing up your invisible lair..."

"Losing your pants," Shego said with a half-smirk, her eyes still fixed on the watermelon.

"It can be a turn-on," Kim quipped, smirking at Shego. "Although sometimes they get caught on...something."

Ron blushed nearly as red as the watermelon and began cackling anxiously at a painfully loud volume, while his mole-rat hid its face in shame.

Drakken looked anywhere but at the young couple, hoping Shego's quip of reply wouldn't be at his expense. The mole-rat then hopped to Kim's shoulder and whispered something in her ear, seeming to save them as it clearly suggested a subject change.

"Would you two, ah...like to...join us?" Kim asked, forcing a grin and fixing the two with a look of almost challenge.

"We've got pickles!" Ron said too loudly again, sitting back down and pulling one from a large jar.

Drakken looked uneasily between the young couple and his wife's increasingly unsettled expression. He needed to steer Shego back to their walk before something drastic occurred.

"No, no thank you, you see we—"

"That's a lot of watermelon for just two people," Shego said, wearing a calm smile that Drakken knew from experience was a herald of potential danger. The comment he had feared clearly wasn't going to come, as something more sinister was definitely in her mind.

"Oh, that's one of KP's newest pregnancy cravings," Ron said. "At first it was peanut butter, cheese, and pickles. But with the money I spend making these babies..."

Drakken then noted the custom label on the jar, featuring none other than the naked mole-rat as a mascot.

"It took forever to find something she liked more," the blond finished.

"I'll admit, this is much better," Kim said with a half-smile as she took another bite of the red fruit. "I never knew how great these things were. So...when's the big day?"

"That's your pregnancy craving?" Shego asked incredulously, unable to pretend anymore.

"Oh yeah, it was crazy. We've gone through six of these in just three days!"

Shego's eyes narrowed while Drakken observed the possessive way Ron was holding onto his pickle jar. He wondered how many jars of the homemade salty delights had been devastated before a substitute craving had been found.

"We've got another five months to go, but Shego you look almost ready to pop!" Ron said, his good humor returning. "Are you excited about being parents? I'm glad we've got so much time because I...don't feel quite ready yet, but I've got plenty of people to ask for advice. Hey! I can ask you two since you're so far ahead of us! So...do you guys have like, a house now? Or do you still live in a lair?"

"Ron..." Kim whined.

"You ah, really like those, do you?" Shego asked again, the calm smile still on her face as she gestured to the watermelon halves.

"Are the pickles more expensive?" Drakken asked before Kim could reply.

"Than the watermelons? Actually...no. But," the blond young man chuckled, "how long can pregnancy cravings last?"

Before another word could be spoken, Shego had crouched down gracelessly and hefted up both halves of the massive watermelon and was striding away before the younger couple could process what was going on.

"Hey... Hey! What's she doing!?" Kim asked, standing up again.

Drakken watched for a moment as his wife hurried away, the younger man standing up too in confusion while his pet perched upon his shoulder and shook a fist at the quickly vanishing very pregnant woman. Before the young couple could move, Drakken stepped forward and grabbed Ron by the shoulders and fixed him with a look of disdain. The youth stared at him in question until he finally gave a withering sigh.

"Good luck," he said simply, and then ran down the path after Shego.

Ron and Kim stared after the pair for a moment and then looked at each other in bewilderment.

"What...what was that, exactly?" Ron asked.

Kim took the jar of pickles out of Ron's hands and sat back down before plucking one out of the jar, a small gasp of protest leaving his lips.

"Who knows."

"Shego! Shego, we have watermelon at the lair!"

"She has my pregnancy cravings... Got pregnant on the first pop... Still looks cute in a mini-dress..."

Drakken took a moment to process Shego's thoughts as he caught his breath and then nearly stumbled as she shoved one of the watermelon halves into his hands. He glanced over his shoulder, but their nemeses... Former nemeses? Weren't following.

"What are you talking about?" he panted.

Shego stopped in the middle of the path and stared down at the watermelon. When she spoke again, the words were so quiet and said through grinding teeth that Drakken struggled to hear them.

"She really is all that..."

Drakken looked at the slump of Shego's shoulders, the way she was staring unblinking at the desired fruit, and how her jaw was being held so tensely he worried she would sprain something. He also couldn't help but notice how lovely she looked with her hair and skirt flowing in the cool breeze.

"I'm the one who...who is supposed to be upset by that," he finally answered, his voice soft and understanding.

Shego looked up at him, startled from the thoughts she'd begun drowning in.

"Are you worried she'll be better than you at...at motherhood?"

Shego's eyes widened slightly before she stared back down at the watermelon half.

"Drakken..." she began, her throat tight, but it was as far as she got.

He grimaced and then carefully took the second half of watermelon from her and set both on a nearby picnic table where they wobbled slightly in the wind. He met her quizzical look with a warm smile and then wrapped her in his arms, the smell of apples and jasmine from her hair mixing with the darker but spicy scent of his cologne and the leather from his jacket that was still around her shoulders.

"She has always been...everything I should have been," Shego said into his shoulder.

The revelation was something he'd heard in pieces over the years, but to hear Shego say it outright was a surprise. Drakken thought for a long moment as Shego's emotions, brought to the surface by pregnancy hormones, were barely held under control.

"I used to think...I wanted someone like that," he said carefully.

Shego pulled back to look at him, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"What?"

"When I was young. To go with a cheerleader would have meant...everything. But...nothing about her, or women like her... Nothing about them is you."

Shego continued looking at him uncertainly, and he ran his fingers through her hair and set another hand on her large belly where it pressed against him.

"I had a...mental image of what I thought I always wanted. A cookie-cutter caricature of a woman. Until...until you," he said with a smile.

Shego's smile grew, and her eyes shone with un-shed tears. But Drakken suspected they were of happiness now.

"Sure you're using those big words right?" she asked with a shaky laugh.

"You taught me how to use them," he said jokingly. "And, Shego...you're going to be an amazing mother."

She stood up on her tiptoes and set her forehead against his.

"You'll be an amazing father, Drew Lipsky," she said before covering his mouth with hers in a kiss.

When they parted, Shego was grinning at him, and Drakken hesitated for the mischief in her eyes.

"There's just one thing wrong," she said.

"Shego... Forget about that...all-that teen," he said, his smile starting to fade.

"Not that," she said with a shake of her head. "What's wrong is...you don't taste like watermelon."

With that, she let go of him and went to go sit at the picnic table. Drakken grimaced, but then followed her with his own teasing grin.

"Funny, I was about to rejoice that you don't."

"Watch out, you're gonna fill your big-words quota for the day."

"Why don't you fill your mouth instead," he quipped back.

"I would, but in public that might get us arrested."

Drakken's jaw worked up and down and he spluttered out nonsense syllables for a moment as Shego dug in her purse for a plastic fork.

"I meant the watermelon!" he finally managed.

"I know," Shego said, handing him a second fork as she stabbed into the fruit with hers. "Now make yourself tasty."

"Thought I was already tasty..." he muttered.

"Thought I was too," she replied, but she was smirking and already chewing on a large bite of the ripe, red fruit.

"Shego..."

She chuckled at his whine of protest and silenced him by lifting his fork and stuffing a large piece of watermelon into his mouth.

"Drakken. Thank you."

He looked up to see the genuine gratitude and affection in her eyes, and any hint of irritation he felt melted in an instant.

"You know..." he said once he'd swallowed the heinous fruit. "That dress really is very becoming."

"So...you don't want me to take it off when we get back to the lair?" she said, waggling her eyebrows.

Drakken snorted and blushed.

"Eat your watermelon."

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ultrahpfan5blog · 3 years

Text

Batman: Soul of the Dragon - Movie Review

For some reason, Batman: Soul of the Dragon slipped beneath my radar. Usually I always catch up to all the Batman movies, but I guess I forgot about this one. It was kind of interesting watching this film for the first time. Its definitely an atypical Batman film because it deals heavily with the supernatural and Bruce being Batman is not really a very important point in the movie. Moreover, this film is more about the ensemble. Richard Dragon is maybe the one who we would call the protagonist of the film, although Bruce, Ben Turner, and Lady Shiva are also co-protagonists.

Having seen the film, this ranks as a perfectly decent but not particularly memorable Batman film. The interest in this movie is more out of watching a part of Bruce's life that is not usually shown in Batman animated movies, which is his training. I think there were a few episode in BTAS which showed his past training at Nanda Parbat and Batman Begins showed his training for the League of Shadows, but other than that, it isn't a very common part of the Batman movie mythos. So the flashbacks are interesting. Watching the friendships between varying different characters is fun. The film's plot is fast moving and manages to make use of all the main characters in an integral way.

When it comes to faults, the plot is very action driven, but there is no much in terms of emotional attachment. I guess we are supposed to feel the attachment through the sacrifice of the Sensei who talk all the main characters, but it isn't quite as emotionally involving as I think the creators think it is. The Kobra Cult is kind of meh as villains. The ending is also a little weird, because it seems like all the main character sacrificed themselves since they are all now behind the gate with the Snake god and only a human sacrifice can open it. Its a strange way to end the movie, since they are essentially trapped there. I am also not a big fan of the idea that Bruce is the least talented of the four main characters, in terms of martial arts.

The voice acting is fine, without being spectacular. David Giuntoli as Bruce/Batman, Mark Dacascos as Richard Dragon, Kelly Hu as Lady Shiva, Michael Jay White as Ben Turner/Bronze Tiger, and James Hong as the Sensei are the ones who stand out. Overall, Sam Liu does a decent job directing the movie. For me, its about a 6.5/10

#batman: soul of the dragon #batman #bruce wayne #lady shiva #richard dragon #ben turner #bronze tiger #david giuntoli #mark dacascos #kelly hu #michael jai white #james hong #sam liu

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mcatmemoranda · 2 years

Photo

Algorithm 1: Nmet: normetanephrine; Met: metanephrine; MRI: magnetic resonance imaging; CT: computed tomography; 68-Ga DOTATATE PET: gallium 68 1,4,7,10-tetraazacyclododecane-1,4,7,10-tetraacetic acid-octreotate; FDG: fluorodeoxyglucose; PET: positron emission tomography.

Table 1: Medications that may increase measured levels of catecholamines and metanephrines: tricyclic antidepressants, levodopa, drugs containing adrenergic receptor agonists (e.g., decongestants), buspirone and most psychoactive agents, amphetamines, prochlorperazine, reserpine, withdrawal from clonidine and other drugs, ethanol.

The diagnosis of pheochromocytoma is made based upon biochemical confirmation of catecholamine hypersecretion, followed by identifying the tumor with imaging studies. Many patients are tested for possible sporadic pheochromocytoma, but few will ultimately be diagnosed with the disorder (approximately 1 in 300).

Biochemical evaluation – We suggest initial biochemical testing based upon the index of suspicion that the patient has a pheochromocytoma. If there is a low index of suspicion, we suggest 24-hour urinary fractionated catecholamines and metanephrines; if there is a high index of suspicion, we suggest plasma fractionated metanephrines (algorithm 1). Medications that can interfere with results are reviewed above (table 1). Indications for testing — Pheochromocytoma should be suspected in patients who have one or more of the following:

●The classic triad of headache, sweating, and tachycardia, whether or not they have hypertension.

●Hyperadrenergic spells (e.g., self-limited episodes of nonexertional palpitations, diaphoresis, headache, tremor, or pallor). However, most patients with spells do not have pheochromocytoma.

●Onset of hypertension at a young age (e.g., less than 20 years), resistant hypertension, or hypertension with new-onset or atypical diabetes mellitus (e.g., new onset of apparent type 2 diabetes in a slender person).

●A familial syndrome that predisposes to catecholamine-secreting tumors (e.g., multiple endocrine neoplasia type 2 [MEN2], neurofibromatosis type 1 [NF1], or von Hippel-Lindau [VHL]).

●A family history of pheochromocytoma.

●Lipid-poor (unenhanced computed tomography [CT] attenuation >10 HU) adrenal incidentaloma with or without hypertension.

●Pressor response during anesthesia, surgery, or angiography.

●Idiopathic dilated cardiomyopathy.

●A history of gastric stromal tumor or pulmonary chondromas (Carney triad).

Discontinue interfering medications — Although it is preferred that patients not receive any medication during the diagnostic evaluation, treatment with all antihypertensive medications may be continued. Tricyclic antidepressants interfere most frequently with the interpretation of plasma fractionated metanephrines and 24-hour urinary catecholamines and metabolites. To effectively screen for catecholamine-secreting tumors, treatment with tricyclic antidepressants (including the muscle relaxant cyclobenzaprine) and other psychoactive agents (but not selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors [SSRIs]) listed in the table (table 1) should be tapered and discontinued at least two weeks before any hormonal assessments.

There are certainly clinical situations for which it is contraindicated to discontinue certain medications (e.g., antipsychotics), and if biochemical testing is positive, then computed imaging (e.g., CT scan of the abdomen and pelvis) would be needed to exclude a catecholamine-secreting tumor. Furthermore, catecholamine secretion may be appropriately increased in situations of physical stress or illness (e.g., any significant illness requiring hospitalization, stroke, myocardial infarction, congestive heart failure, obstructive sleep apnea). Therefore, the clinical circumstances under which catecholamines and metanephrines are measured must be assessed in each case.

Levodopa is the most common and only pharmacotherapeutic agent that causes markedly abnormal levels of dopamine.

For patients with biochemical confirmation of the diagnosis, the next step is radiologic evaluation to locate the tumor.

•Imaging – Biochemical confirmation of the diagnosis should be followed by radiologic evaluation to locate the tumor [57,59], not the other way around (algorithm 1). In sporadic pheochromocytoma, computed tomography (CT) or magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) of the abdomen and pelvis is usually performed first. Either test detects almost all sporadic tumors because most are 3 cm or larger in diameter. (See 'CT and MRI' above.)

If CT or MRI is negative in the presence of clinical and biochemical evidence of pheochromocytoma, one ought first to reconsider the diagnosis. If it is still considered likely, then iobenguane I-123 (also known as metaiodobenzylguanidine [MIBG]) scintigraphy may be done; this scan can detect tumors not detected by CT or MRI. (See 'Iobenguane I-123' above.)

Other imaging studies are more sensitive than iobenguane I-123 and CT/MRI for detection of metastatic disease. (See 'FDG-PET' above and '68-Ga DOTATATE PET' above.)

•Genetic testing – Genetic testing should be considered in all patients with pheochromocytoma or paraganglioma. (See 'Genetic testing' above.) (table 3)

●Pheochromocytoma in pregnancy – Pheochromocytoma is a rare cause of hypertension during pregnancy, with clinical features similar to those in the general population. The approach to diagnosis is the same as for nonpregnant women. Maternal and fetal mortality rates are high, particularly in those who are not diagnosed until delivery. Optimal medical therapy for pheochromocytoma in pregnancy is not clearly defined. (See 'Pheochromocytoma in pregnancy' above.)

In sporadic pheochromocytoma, both CT and MRI are quite sensitive (98 to 100 percent) but are only approximately 70 percent specific because of the higher prevalence of adrenal "incidentalomas." The choice between CT and MRI depends upon the cost and certain other factors described below.

●With CT, there is some exposure to radiation but no risk of exacerbation of hypertension if current radiographic contrast agents are given. CT with low-osmolar contrast is safe for patients with pheochromocytoma even without alpha- or beta-adrenergic blocker pretreatment, as illustrated in a report of 22 such patients [74]. After intravenous (IV) low-osmolar contrast administration for CT scan, there was a significant increase in diastolic blood pressure but no increase in plasma catecholamine levels or episodes of hypertensive crises.

●With MRI, there is neither radiation nor dye. This more expensive test can distinguish pheochromocytoma from other adrenal masses; on T2-weighted images, pheochromocytomas appear hyperintense and other adrenal tumors isointense, as compared with the liver. However, MRI lacks the superior spatial resolution of CT.

●Familial pheochromocytoma – In patients with the multiple endocrine neoplasia type 2 (MEN2) syndrome, computing imaging may miss approximately one-quarter of the tumors. In a selected group of patients with a 40 percent incidence of pheochromocytoma, the respective positive and negative predictive values of CT were 69 and 98 percent.

●Imaging phenotype of pheochromocytoma/paragangliomas:

-Increased attenuation on nonenhanced CT (most are greater than 20 Hounsfield units [HU]) -Increased mass vascularity -Delay in contrast medium washout (10 minutes after administration of contrast, an absolute contrast medium washout of less than 50 percent) -High signal intensity on T2-weighted MRI -Cystic and hemorrhagic changes -Variable size and may be bilateral

Additional imaging Iobenguane I-123

●If abdominal and pelvic CT or MRI is negative in the presence of clinical and biochemical evidence of pheochromocytoma, one ought first to reconsider the diagnosis. If it is still considered likely, then iobenguane I-123 (diagnostic) (also known as metaiodobenzylguanidine [MIBG]) scintigraphy may be done. Iobenguane I-123 (diagnostic) is a compound resembling norepinephrine that is taken up by adrenergic tissue. This scan can detect tumors not detected by CT or MRI or multiple tumors when CT or MRI is positive.

●Iobenguane I-123 scintigraphy is superfluous in patients with sporadic solitary adrenal pheochromocytoma identified on CT/MRI.

●Iobenguane I-123 scintigraphy is indicated in patients with large (eg, greater than 10 cm) adrenal pheochromocytomas (increased risk of metastatic disease) or paraganglioma (increased risk of multiple tumors and malignancy).

●Surgery is never indicated based on iobenguane I-123 findings alone; MIBG findings should always be corroborated by findings on computed imaging. Normal adrenal glands take up iobenguane I-123, and the uptake may be asymmetric.

#renal #pheo #pheochromocytoma

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mylittlemystery · 4 years

Text

Morning’s Afterglow

Summary: Kazuichi really was too mischievous for his own good, especially when it was this early in the day…

A/N: just some shameless SouDam fluff.

A ray of sunlight was creeping in through the crack in the curtains, sprawling itself atop Kazuichi’s uneven hair. The mechanic let out a gentle groan, stretching his arms above his head until his knuckles brushed against the bed frame, smacking his lips together as he blinked the residual grogginess away. He rolled onto his left side, causing the mattress to breathe out a soft creak, and an uncharacteristically adoring smile crossed his face.

Gundham was laying flat on his back, chest rising and falling with each even breath, an expression of tranquility adorning him. He was typically an early riser, awaking well before the crack of dawn, so it was definitely a rare treat for the other to witness him like this. His bangs were messily skewed in front of his eyes, having not yet had the chance to style them properly, and his neck seemed almost uncomfortably bare without the presence of his deep purple scarf (he had insisted on sheltering the Devas somewhere else during the night for fear of crushing them during his slumber).

That previously innocent look now morphed into a more fitting smirk as the familiar dazzle of mischief twinkled in Kazuichi’s eyes. He stretched his hand out towards his partner, taking care not to cause any major disturbance that might foil his fun, and ran an index fingernail across the normally secluded pale skin.

Gundham’s eyelids twitched ever so slightly, his nose scrunching up like that of a wild rabbit’s, and the faintest whisper of a smile graced itself along his lips.

Kazuichi allowed himself a low huff of amusement at the anticipated reaction. “God, you’re cute,” he murmured to nobody in particular as he added a second finger to the mix, tracing lazy patterns into the other’s goosebump riddled flesh. “Coochie coo…”

A sleepy titter of a giggle slipped its way from Gundham’s lungs, his cheeks starting to flare up with a tinge of rosy hued humility. “Stahp,” he mumbled in his half asleep trance. “Naht there…”

Figuring he had delivered a sufficient appetizer, as he was beginning to get quite ansty with boredom at these tiny responses, Kazuichi decided that it was time to move onto the main course. Throwing caution to the wind, he threw his arms around his boyfriend in a tight bear hug and began delicately nibbling on the nape of that neck.

It was this that finally woke Gundham up completely. His eyes snapped open like a shutter, barely having time to gather his wits before he found himself roaring with hysterical laughter. “K-kahaHAHAAzuuuiiichihiHIHI?!” he barked incredulously.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Kazuichi greeted in a pause from his attack, as though what he was doing was no more unusual than changing one’s clothes at the start of a new day. “Looks like ya slept in, huh? Man, I’m starving!” With that tease having been said, he resumed his playful chewing on the other’s sensitive skin.

“GEHEHEHET AHAHAFF!” Gundham cackled as he thrashed in the mechanic’s grip, legs kicking to and fro frantically (which, unfortunately for him, only resulted in them getting tangled among the sheets). Those pointed teeth were a downright diabolical weapon, one that made him hunch his shoulders as he desperately clawed at the other’s hands with what little strength he had remaining.

Kazuichi couldn’t stop himself from smiling against the breeder’s body as he drank up these atypical reactions with pleasure. It was a goddamn treat to see the normally stoic man in this sort of state: absolutely overcome with mirth, wearing a grin so wide that it looked almost unsettling, and entirely unable to maintain that usual aura of power. Sadly enough, it was this immersion in affection that left him vulnerable towards retaliation, and he had been flipped onto his back with his neck dangling overside the bed before he knew it. “W-wait, Guhuuuuuundaaaaam!” He hardly had the time to address his growing fear before the feeling of ten digits digging into his abdomen sent him into unwilling hysteria.

“That’s right, mortal! Writhe at the hands of this Ruler of Darkness!” Gundham sneered as he enacted some well deserved revenge against his lover. “Beg for my mercy, and perhaps I’ll have pity on you!”

Writhe Kazuichi certainly did, his upper body struggling to right itself under the other’s body weight. “Oh my GAHD! GUNDHAM! Ihi’m gohohonna dihihihihiiiee!” he wailed most dramatically as the tips of his brightly colored hair grazed the hardwood floor. He could already feel the blood beginning to rush to his head…

“Well then, it looks like you’ll die laughing!” Gundham observed rather coldly, his fingers not stalling in their vivacity for even a moment. “Consider this a merciful outcome from the Supreme Overlord of Ice!”

“S-seheheriously! I’m gohonnaha puuhuuhuuhuuke!”

“Hah! Such empty threats have no impact on me!”

“Ohohohokahahahay! OHOKAY! Stahahahahaap, pleeeheeheeheeEEASE!” Kazuichi shrieked at an embarrassingly high pitched tone for a guy when he felt one of those fingers dip into his navel, nearly collapsing with relief when those horrendous sensations finally grinded to a halt. He spent some time greedily gulping down lungfuls of air, his diaphragm burning from the extended usage in such an odd position, and he slowly managed to pull himself all the way back onto the bed after about a minute of this. “Y-you’re so mean,” he grumbled as he glowered at the other man with all the intimidation of a petulant toddler.

“Hmph,” Gundham huffed as he crossed his arms, the remnants of a smirk still visible on his face. “Atrocious is more fitting. Besides, one shouldn’t dish out what they can’t take.”

Kazuichi rolled his eyes as he snuggled against his pillow once more, rendered unusually exhausted after that little mishap. “I guess that’s fair…” He could feel his eyelids beginning to grow heavy, and he allowed himself to succumb to sleep yet again.

Gundham, on the other hand, figured it was well past the time to start the day. He made to start with his routine procedures, but not before he took the opportunity to place a tender kiss on the other’s still damp forehead.

#writing #fanfiction #danganronpa #gundham tanaka #kazuichi soda #soudam #tickling #tickles #tickle #ticklish #tickled #my stuff #i love them so much

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neuroclastic · 4 years

Text

Pathologizing Positive Human Traits “Because Autism”

A journal article in The Journal of Neuroscience was released last week regarding morality and individual gain, comparing groups of autistic people and non-autistic people.

Participants had to either accept or refuse these two different conditions:

They could accept or refuse to fund a good cause at the expense of their own funds (a charity supporting education for children and teens)

They could accept or refuse to support a bad cause in exchange for individual monetary benefit (an organization that wants to “clean the street by exterminating street animals”)

The researchers had participants choose this in 2 different settings – a private setting, or a public one.

Autistic individuals were much more likely than the non-autistic group to refuse the second choice, which is to refuse to support the bad cause to gain money for themselves.

However, neurotypical people often accepted the second bad condition in the private setting, but not the public one.

Autistic people did not differ in their actions between private and public settings.

The authors pathologize autistic participants for refusing to support a bad cause, essentially for not being as selfish as the non-autistic group:

“Here, we show that ASD individuals are more inflexible when following a moral rule even though an immoral action can benefit themselves, and suffer an undue concern about their ill-gotten gains and the moral cost.” - Hu et al. 2020

Let’s reframe this.

On average, autistic people were more likely to be selfless, and to show integrity in their moral values, than neurotypical people.

What they concluded was essentially this: autistic people cared too much about their morals, and too little about themselves.

Pathologizing Language Harms Us

Here are some phrases that are used within this research article:

-“healthy group” is used when referring to the neurotypical group

-“ASD patients” is used when referring to the autistic group

-uses the term “atypical moral behaviors” when referring to autistic people

-“a core deficit in theory-of-mind (ToM) ability” as part of being autistic

-the difference between groups is a “dysfunction” in the brain based on MRI scans.

The actual research done in this study is somewhat interesting, and could have implications for autistic adults especially regarding employment, socio-economic status, and homelessness.

...The researchers were just too busy pathologizing autism to notice.

To read the full version of our article, including discussions on the implications of this research and the MRI details, click here:

https://neuroclastic.com/2020/11/07/autistic-people-care-too-much-research-says/amp/?fbclid=IwAR0KW45_iWmPwc00fp9Su_bS8lJStqeOfPr1VtDHNFFwfibtAZ9PXIo-De4&__twitter_impression=true

#actuallyautistic #autism #ASD #morality #neuroclastic #research #ableism

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gothfoxx · 5 years

Note

Could you do a oneshot where aizawa finds izuku being bullied, and it leads him tk find out how teachers treated him in middle school? (Cue protective dadzawa) I have a similar idea involving jirou and present mic if your interested.

Eeee! Thank you sweet anon! Ima do the Dadzawa now and I’ll do your dadmic suggestion too, throw it at me!

Takes place after dorms are implemented but during a break. *Implied child abuse, implied child neglect, Innuendos, suggested underage/noncon*

“Oooh look it’s Deku, which loser school did you have to beg to get into?” The voice of a teenager cut through Aizawa’s thinking as he was comparing the qualities of coffee brands. It wasn’t a voice he recognized but he did know that cruel nickname. When the tired man looked up sure enough he saw a familiar head of green curls. He could see Midoriya was about to answer the rude question when the unfamiliar boy went on,”bet you had to do a lot of getting on your knees.” The kid insinuates. And this just wont do.

Aizawa puts down the coffee beans he was looking at and makes his way over to the kids, he might not be a known hero but he was still intimidating and could settle this before it got more out of hand. Making sure to make eye contact with the other boy Aizawa put a gentle hand on Midoriya’s shoulder. “Midoriya, it’s almost time to go. Say goodbye and come along.” He said, still staring down the instigator. Midoriya unfortunately flinched at the contact and the other kid snorted. “Have fun with your sponsor Deku, hope it’s worth it!” The kid laughs as he walks way, not seeming to be effected by Aizawa’s darkened demeanor.

When Midoriya turned to speak Aizawa was expecting anger or embarrassment, heck he expected tears from the kid but what he saw made his blood freeze. Kind, determined, rebellious Izuku with passion in his eyes was replaced by an apathetic mask and empty eyes, “Sorry Sensei, Kaoru was just teasing. He used to say that whenever I get better scores than he did.” Aizawa had to keep a shiver from wracking his body, Izuku’s bright tone sounded closer to that of Todoroki. That boy had not just been making a friendly jest, ‘Kaoru’ was tormenting Izuku and it sounded like he had been for some time. But a grocery store wasn’t the place to discuss such things, so Shouta nods and tosses in the cheaper coffee in his basket. “You ready?” He asks seeing the list in his student’s hand. “Yes Sensei.” With that they both go through check out.

The walk out from the story is awkward and Aizawa is dreading what he has to ask, he doesn’t think he can handle if the answer is yes. He breaks the silence between them at an empty crosswalk, “Did anyone at your old school ask you for..favors in exchange for a better grade?” It was best to not sound judgmental and just curious, a scared victim is usually a silent one. Poor Midoriya looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up, he waved his arms in a dismissive manner making his bags sway. “No sir! That’s cheating and a hero should never stoop so low as to cheat!” the boy sounded hurt at the very idea of doing so.

Aizawa filed that away with the knowledge that Midoriya likes to bend the rules. “Did anyone else at your old school say things like that? That kind of...teasing?” Again Aizawa feared the answer but it might set some light on why his student had some troubling habits. This time Midoriya doesn’t answer right away and that empty look returns to his eyes, it’s almost a full block before the kid answered, “it felt like everyone said things like that. I wasn’t popular in middle school since my quirk didn’t come in until right before exams. It’s easy to tease the quirkless kid when no one cares.” The kid mutters, it’s soft but fast, like the words would burn his mouth if they linger there too long. Aizawa stopped mid-stride. “Repeat that last part?” He politely demands.

Midoriya shakes a bit, taking Aizawa’s anger as being aimed at him. “I-it’s easy to t-t-tease the quirkless kid?” He stutters out looking ready to bolt. Aizawa realizes that he had accidentally activated his quirk in anger. “You said no one cared. Why did you think no one cared? What about your teachers!?” And kami he knows he’s probably scaring his kid but this explains a lot of things the kid does, why he doesn’t expect help from others, why he’s so easily moved to tears. “Oh well no, I’m th-the teachers had b-better things to do. Plus I m-made things hu-hard for them with all the distractions and mum-mumbl-mumbling.” Midoriya tried to excuse but it sounded hollow and rehearsed, like it was something he was told so often that he might believe it.

Aizawa let it go after that, the kid was starting to look stressed and scared and would probably clam up soon anyway. He didn’t mean to follow the kid home but something in his gut was telling him it wasn’t safe to leave yet. His gut was proved right when a group of kids around Midoriya’s age and they had not trouble lashing out at Deku as they sneered the hero name. Aizawa didn’t like what this was spelling out about his problem child, it left a sickly taste in his mouth and a constricting in his chest. It took all his will power not to arrest them for harassment and quirk discrimination on the spot. That or pick up Midoriya and just head home, the cats wouldn’t mind extra attention.

After a call to the authorities and the kids being escorted home by officers Aizawa wasn’t sure he could take another disruption in their journey to the Midoriya household. When they finally arrived Ms Midoriya ushered them in and had been so moved by Aizawa’s commitment to keep her boy safe that she hugged the grundg styled man. It was a nice hug but the happy tears were a bit much for him and he noticed the impish glee in Izuku’s eyes. It was a well welcomed look after the unnatural empty look in them earlier, Aizawa hated that dead look to his core. Never again.

Once he had gotten out of Ms Midoriya’s stronghold and made it back home Aizawa made a few phone calls. He wanted to look into what he saw today and see some justice be had. Nezu had agreed almost before Aizawa could voice his suspicions about his student’s history, his agency had agreed to him adding the case to his workload bloodhound had been more than happy to speak with Izuku about his troubles from middle school. Lastly he called in a favor he had with an associate who worked in quirk registry, he wanted to know when Izuku got his quirk since the kid mentioned exams and being thought quirkless. If he thought what had happened happened he was going to see that action was taken.

The middle school Midoriya and Bakugou attended was blander than most, it showed its age through the neglected moss growth on its concrete outer walls. The school also didn’t have cameras or any type of security measurements like anti-quirk rooms or hero alart system. It’s was apparent the school didn’t get a lot of funding and the kids didn’t seem to respect the school, staff, or other students. when Aizawa has questioned the teachers about bullying and Midoriya they all seemed exasperated and spoke about how much of a distraction and trouble maker the boy had been, how he would push the buttons of other kids so he could play victim. None of which sounded anything like his kind, loving student that would rather break himself than let someone get hurt. Sure he and Bakugou could get loud but so did the rest of the class and Izuku apologized most of the time, the kid attracted trouble, and could play villains into losing their upper hand but he never just caused drama or was mean to anyone. These teachers were full of it. If they couldn’t help him maybe he could find something in the school files.

A woman with eyes like amethysts was very helpful, when he mentioned Midoriya’s name her smile faultered and she looked frightened, “Is he okay? I know things have happened at U.A. and he always seemed to draw in the worst types of people.” He worry was appreciated after all the dismissals and repetitive excuses. “He’s as fine as we could hope after everything that’s happened this year. I’m actually here because he had a run in with some ex classmates and his reaction was...atypical.” He told her in a low quiet voice. She didn’t look surprised to hear that. “I’m guessing the teachers weren’t much help?” She asked as she sat and opened a drawer of her desk. He made a affirmative grunt. “Then I hope this can help. I wasn’t sure if it would ever come up but I couldn’t ignore it like everyone else did. My mom is quirkless and she went through back in her day too.” She sighs, handing over a binder that was at the bottom of the drawer. “Thank you for not ignoring him.” Damn that made his chest constrict again, “Thank you for doing it first, Miss?” “Hōseki Kōkana” “Thank you Ms Hōseki”

The binder had a list of dates and injuries, details about how Izuku would come into school fine but leave with bruises or with torn clothes. Ms Hōseki added pictures or documents about doctors visits and missed classes. There was a computation of who she had seen do what but given she was usually at the front desk it wasn’t a complete list, it was still a long list. Aizawa was impressed by her dedication to a child who as far as he knew had no relation with her. Nezu had said he would be employing her as a record keeper for one of his organizations, a high honor bestowed on few by the principal. With this they could investigate into the school’s history of discrimination and bullying. Aizawa would wait to tell Midoriya the news, first they had to get him to a place where knowing the place was bing closed wouldn’t cause the kid to blame himself. Vengeance was nice but his kid came first.

#dadzawa #midoriya izuku #mha #bnha #i almost made it longer but i wanted nice inko for this #send me prompts #anon #sorry im on mobile #long post

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livayl · 5 years

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Veiled In Nocturnal Shadows

Going to cross post and dump it here as well just because “why not?”. In case someone out here wants to re-blog it, please only to other kink blogs, thank you. Warnings: some cussing here and there. Also: This has a part 2 as well. :)

This story takes place in a fantasy setting. In a world flourishing with magic that is currently sundered with a war raging between different alliances and a still unknown foe. It follows two main protagonists which are a Centaur (a mythical creature half human, half white deer in this case) and an Orc that are on a continuous flight.

Shokhrakka dozily listened to natures soothing evening symphony while Lillandlians gentle pace lulled him further towards sleep. Birds chirped their last sweet songs conducted by even hoof beats before parting in favor of nights darker tones.

The air was crisp with frost and so clear it seemed distilled. Hardly breathed on by a smell other than the sweetly bitter perfume of resin and pine needles combined with the fresh purity of currently falling snow. The flakes stroked the exposed grayish skin around the Orcs closed eyes and melted on the tip of his nose. If not for this small discomfort he could have sunken deeper into the cocoon of warming fur and seductive rest that was badly needed.

In truth sleep was something Shokhrakka was not yet ready to allow himself. After they had been chased for so long it seemed treacherous to dwell too deep in this moment of fugitive peace born out of fatigue. Despite the still lingering threat he must have slid into a deeper slumber only startled by a sudden noise disrupting dusk's last sounds: "-hdtZSSSCHhhh!"

Rapidly blinking his gaze was fixed on the cascade of moonlight colored hair nearly veiling Lillandlians whole back. His companions human half seemed almost lost in his over sized cape and shivered slightly while raising back to its natural rigid posture.

"...My apologies for waking you." The usual silky, flowing voice came out weary on the edges, muffled by exhaustion.

"You okay? Want me to walk?" Shokhrakka asked.

"...hah..Snnfff! Pardon. I feel fine, you can stay mounted. I believe we are almost far enough to make camp for the night anyways." The Taur answered.

Now almost completely enveloped by the forests gloom and nights shadowy cloak Shokhrakka was especially grateful for his orcish night vision. The trees around them towered more intimidating than he could remember before closing his eyes. Standing so close to each other, sprouting out of what seemed like a sea of undergrowth, that he wondered how Lillandlian had maneuvered himself through without so much as breaking his pace.

Yet, the druid must feel at home immersed into this wilderness that seemed to part and prosper at his will.

The canopy above was so dense it was a ward against snow and the icy wind that in return bereaved them from almost every light. Almost swallowed by darkness, led astray from stars and moon. In the dim atmosphere their surroundings melted together in twisted shades, creating creatures never seen before.

Lillandlian seemed unconcerned while guiding them through thorny bushes draped with glistering cobwebs. Deeper and deeper towards the forests black heart that beat in foreign shrieks of nocturnal animals.

Shokhrakka bared his fangs and big tusks to bite back the growl that had risen from the depths of his largely muscled chest. He could not yet place it but something in here made his skin crawl with unease.

"Please do not worry my friend, here is nothing that would harm us."

"I´m not worried. Orcs never worry."

"Oh that sure comes in hhh...haah..handy during times like these." Lillandlian answered, his common chant discordant and oddly wavering.

Shokhrakka could feel and see the muscles of both fused bodies tense as his companion was forced to pause walking, completely overcome by more pressing issues than a light conversation.

"hhhh HA-PTSSSCHH! hheehh-PTSSSCHHih! hhiH-KDZSSSCHhieh!" The sneezes caused his upper body to bent forward almost violently and echoed wetly into the shelter of his cupped hands.

"You wanted to unseat me? Almost managed to!" Shokhrakka scoffed as the Taurs front hoofs scraped the iced ground while his tail traced angry luminescent trails behind them.

"Excuse me." Lillandlian answered, dignity overridden by urgent wet sniffs and the repulsed shake of his soiled hands.

The gesture caused Shokhrakka to laugh even harder.

Granting his friend this small outburst of mirth, the Taur went on, crisp moss and long gone dead twigs rustling aside with every tiring step. He felt ashamed for admitting it but the short period of carrying the heavy Orc clad with even heavier armory had robbed his last strength. His steps had started to waver, muscles trembling and strained so hard every cord had become apparent beneath his silvery fur. Body shaking not only by the cold that had taken advantage of his already weakened state but pure exhaustion.

Yet he did not want to let his friend unintentionally harm an environment so deeply flourished by magic it had called out for him from afar and now hummed in unison with his quickened heartbeat. The forests ballad had promised shelter from their pursuers but also a bloody revenge for violation of its unspoken rules.

A sharp tickle suddenly sparked deep in his sinuses disturbed his train of thoughts as he stumbled forward, front legs buckling with the force of the following expulsions.

"hhah-ADZSSSCHHhhh! -TDZSSSSCHiieh!"

"Fuck now you nearly had me flying, Lilly." The comforting hand steadying the Taurs shoulder betrayed Shokhrakkas mocking tone. Warm and strong it was vowing for protection and aid.

"Forgive me." Lillandlian replied, voice breathless.

"Nah nothing to forgive. C´mon, I´ll walk."

Lillandlian could not suppress the sight of relive as he felt the crushing weight carefully sliding down his back. Ever so quiet it did not escape the Orcs keen sense of hearing.

"Damn, knew I´m too heavy for you." He grumbled while walking a devastating semicircle through the local flora to face his companions front. The Taur cringed at the feeble cries of crushed sprouts underneath Shokhrakkas massive boots.

"Please watch your step, you are damaging the offspring of the dead."

"What?"

"Those plants you just walked over. Some won´t recover."

"The whole shitplace is one giant plant. Kinda hard not to touch anything." Shokhrakka snarled in growing annoyance.

"It is not about touching." Lillandlian sighted. "Please, I did not mean to start a fight."

"If I was fighting, you and your beloved forest would know." The Orc grumbled, neither understanding the scolding nor his friends seemingly endless care for anything regarding nature.

"Further in or this area does not make much of a difference anymore. We can st-huh-excuse-hdt-KDZZZSSSCH!...Stay-heh-re- HEH-IDZZSCHH-IIIEH! Snnfff -my apologies. Stay here all the same." The Taur shook his head in aversion of the warm moisture that had whetted his hastily raised hands and most likely sprayed all nearby surroundings as well.

"You got a lot of those lately." Shokhrakka remarked, now too worried to enjoy his friends exaggerated distaste and embarrassment at something so trivial as a sneeze.

"It´s cold." Lillandlian replied flatly, his shuddering body and azure hued lips speaking for themselves.

As an answer Shokhrakka loosened the lacing of his soft furry poncho, draped it over his friends trembling bestial half and closed it around his upper waist.

"D-d-don´t you snffff need it yours-s-self?"

"No. Watch it, nose is dripping all over your precious plants." The Orc grinned.

Choosing not to respond to this observation, the Taurs sour grimace was quickly hidden behind his sleeve, graceful legs prancing in place.

"Thank you. I shall start now..."

With that announcement he walked forth through the now gently swaying ocean of greens, searching for a spot to let it thrive even further. He found it only a few steps away, feathery ferns prospering in a bed of moss coated by fine layers of fir needles.

With a deep breath Lillandlian let his senses melt with the ambiance surrounding him. The air was still cool but instead of biting sharply it was now mellow with the familiar warmth of deepest woodland, soothingly fragrant with the resinous smell of wood and ancient times.

A gentle breeze breathed through the branches above, carrying the chant of another descending night that fused with his pulsating heart. Tingling magic rose with every slow and steady beat, embracing him with it´s familiar energy. Growing grass gently caressed his ankles, ascended further up his slender legs only to playfully tickle his firm chest, causing fine ethereal hairs to stand erect. Thorny branches matured even further, gaining height and strength while turning towards the superior treetops to form a hollow both impenetrable and protective.

Eyes still closed Lillandlian felt it forming a shelter around him, soft now blooming moss simultaneously thickening to a mattress sprinkled with lilac stars sparkling out of a sky deeply green. Despite his exhaustion he felt whole again for a moment, almost revitalized within natures strong grasp.

Full lips drawn into a content smile the Druid opened his crimson glowing eyes and raised a welcoming hand towards Shokhrakka, who still marveled at the Druids creation.

The Orc entered their freshly blossomed hideout with atypical hesitation, the echo of power almost palpable within its dim entrails.

"It is not wise to spark a fire within these woods or do other grave damage. Same will go for robbing the forests fruits without permission. As long as we stay considerate of those rules we will be safe and accepted." The Taur explained.

Later, after eating meager leftovers and bothering with even more mundane needs, both where readying themselves for a promising slumber. Shokhrakka, who had formerly intended to heed his companions enigmatic advice without further comment, could not help but notice Lillandlians increased shivering and general worsened condition. He had seen deep violet shadows under his friends sunken eyes and pallid alabaster skin marbled grey with fatigue before nightfall's pitch black cloak had veiled the Taurs frame. His friend had barely eaten, each piece of dry bread nearly the cause of a new coughing fit. Now, leaned against his trembling body, Shokhrakka could detect an alarming wheeze in wake of most breaths.

He was about to discuss the merits of even a small campfire when Lillandlians breath started to hitch and waver erratically. The Centaurs animal chest and solid belly started to heave and expand in response, softly vibrating against Shokhrakkas back.

"Heh... hhh hnght-uh!.. heh-kgnxt-hah..." Shaken by the suppressed force Lillandlians upper half had bend down despite his best efforts to be as unobtrusive as possible. Mocking these intentions even further, the vicious tickle refused to pass and started to rise again only moments after the last release.

"hhh- ...HEH-ngxdt-hah!" Even more intense than before the sneeze caused a sharp bolt of pain through his nasal passages up to his forehead and bent him forward, yet the prickling irritation seemed indomitable.

"Fucking hell Lilly, stop doing that!"

"I´m sorry, cand´t help ih-hhah... HAH-KNGXT!..." This one left him dizzy, head spinning while he hesitantly released the rigorous grip arresting his stubborn nose. "The itch won´t stop..." He admitted ruefully.

"Not the sneezing. It´s bad holding them in like that. Even listening hurts." Shokhrakka replied a little softer.

"Oh..." Lillandlian breathed.

"Oh!" The Orc mimicked and leaned back again.

Only a few heartbeats later he felt the expanse of another urgent inhale accompanied by the slight tug of arms raised in haste.

"hhh-HEPTSCHih!...-HAH-PTSCHieh!.....hah...HEH-hah?!"

"Just out with it."

"Thadt´s ndot so eah...-hh hhh HH-HAH~DZSCHIIIEW!...Snnff... My apologies... Snnf... I believe it has stopped..."

Shokhrakka wordlessly patted his companions flank and closed his eyes once more. Enjoying the newly descending silence as well as his friends company which finally managed to gently appease his vigilant senses towards a much needed sleep.

#my fic #my oc #Lillandlian #Shokhrakka #because I have seen others cross post stuff as well #when you have no idea how to do things #how to get the keep reading thingy #snzfic #male

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