#sobbing in my parents kitchen while my mom made me ramen

[femininominon]

there is the agony of living in America (contributing to its global acts of cruelty simply by living and working and feeding and clothing yourself) and the agony of living in America today when it has become so clear that even if every politician making these choices on my behalf were killed, it would make no difference and they would be swiftly replaced by their ideological twin

[stylesluxx]

allergic reaction – h.styles

[warnings: allergic reaction (obv), hospitals, crying but not really angst?? swearing and mentions of sex (no smut)]

summary: in which y/n develops an allergy to her favorite food

word count: 2,106

masterlist

Harry made the best sandwiches. And you can't believe that for three years, you didn't know you were in a relationship with the Gordon Ramsey of sandwiches.

Ever since your trip to London last year, it was a tradition for the two of you to share a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at least once a week. And you would only eat it if he made it, no exceptions.

The two of you were on a plane to London to visit his mom and sister; you were cuddled into his side, watching Phineas and Ferb on his laptop, when your stomach grumbled loudly.

You looked up at Harry sheepishly, causing him to chuckle and kiss your forehead. He got the attention of the nearest flight attendant and let you order.

"What are you hungry for, Baby?" He asked and rubbed your arm with the hand that was around your shoulders.

"Do you think I could get a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" You shyly asked the woman.

PB&Js aren't something people would usually get on a plane but you thought maybe you'd test your luck.

"Chunky or smooth?" She asked, making you smile happily.

"Smooth please."

"Do you think I could get one too?" Your boyfriend asked.

"Of course!" She nodded and walked off.

She came back after a few minutes, one plate in each hand, making you sit up to bring the tray down in front of you.

You and Harry both thanked her as she walked off, leaving you two to your sandwiches.

"What made you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?" Harry asked before biting down into his sandwich.

"Just had a taste for it," You shrugged. "What made you want to copy me?"

"Just had a taste for it."

"Oh, I bet," You giggled and bit into the sandwich. You took a couple more bites before nodding in amazement. "This is the best PB&J I've ever had in my entire life. Like the perfect ratio."

"I bet I could make it better," Harry challenged, eyebrow raised and looking at you from the corner of his eye.

"H, in the three years we've been together, the only things I've seen you make are ramen and cereal," You teased.

"Watch. When we land, I'm gonna make you the best sandwich you've ever had."

"Okay, Chef Harry," You giggled and went back to eating your sandwich.

When you got to his apartment in London, he dropped the bags off in the bedroom before running back to the kitchen and getting started on a sandwich.

"Har, I'm sure it can wait for the morning," You laughed and kicked off your sneakers, setting them by the door.

"No, because I need to prove you wrong," He shook his head and continued.

You shook your head, sat at the island, and watched him make what would soon become his specialty meal.

He cut the sandwich into two triangles and cut off the crust the way he knew you liked. He made sure to leave as much sandwich as possible, but still getting off all the crust, before pushing the plate toward you and smiling in anticipation.

"Go 'head, baby," He urged you.

"You know... it's okay for you to not be good at something. Singing is phenomenal; sex is phenomenal; you're a phenomenal boyfriend, a phenomenal person even! So, it's okay if you're an average sandwich maker," You played with him, trying to put off eating the sandwich.

"Just try the damn sandwich, Y/N!" He playfully yelled and banged his fist on the counter.

"Okay, okay," You giggled and picked up one half of the sandwich.

You looked at it carefully before putting a piece in your mouth and taking a bite. You slowly chewed it, taking in all the flavors, before swallowing and going for another bite. You repeated the slow chewing two more times before you set the sandwich back on the plate.

"So?"

"It's actually... really good, Har. Like really good," You admitted and gave him a big smile.

"You just saying that?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

You laughed and shook your head. "The only thing that makes yours an A+ and the flight attendant's an A is the fact that you know how I like my sandwiches cut and the crust. Like I told you, phenomenal boyfriend," You shrugged and picked the sandwich back up to finish it.

"Told you!" He yelled victoriously and pumped his fist in the air.

"Yeah, yeah, you told me."

Harry was finally back home after touring and doing press, so for a week you just left him to relax. You cuddled whenever he wanted, cooked his favorite meals, danced with him to his favorite songs. It was actually stuff that you normally did when he was home. But for the week you didn't pretend to fight it or playfully groan.

But now his week was up and you were craving a sandwich.

"Harryyy," You sang and squeezed his nose while he watched tv.

"Stop it," He whined and swatted your hand away.

You just moved your hand to his cheeks and pinched them as if he were a tiny baby with cute, fat cheeks. "Harryyy," You sang again.

"What do you want, you pest?" He teased and tore his eyes away from the tv to look over at you.

"I was just thinking... it's been a while since we had your special sandwiches," You hummed while rubbing your chin as if thinking.

He let out a laugh through his nose, making his body jerk slightly. "Y/N, you haven't had a sandwich since I left, have you?" He asked.

"It appears I haven't," You continued playing clueless and pursed your lips.

"Alright, Baby, your PB&J is coming right up," He nodded and kissed your forehead.

His feet moved from the coffee table to the floor as he stood up and made his way into the kitchen.

You smiled brightly, clapped your hands together, and rested them on your stomach. You had been waiting months for this moment and you were in pure bliss that you were finally getting what you wanted. As the saying goes, good things come to those who wait.

Harry walked back into the living room with two plates, one for you and one for him. "Harry Styles, singer, songwriter, actor, and Y/N Y/L/N's personal PB&J chef. Here you go, Baby," He introduced himself with a playful smirk and handed a plate to you.

"You're so silly," You smiled before thanking him.

He nodded and sat back in his spot next to you, putting his feet on the table and arm around your shoulder.

"Bone apple teeth!" He cheered and held up half of his sandwich.

"Bone app the tea!" You toasted and raised one of your halves to tap his.

You both bit into your sandwiches at the same time and smiled at each other, ignoring the bread sticking to your teeth.

You finished your sandwiches quickly and set the plates down on the table. You leaned into your boyfriend's side and focused on the Avengers Assemble cartoon that Harry had playing.

After an episode of, you felt your lips start to tingle but you brushed it off, not thinking much of it. But once you were running your tongue over the top of your mouth, trying to get rid of the itch, you figured something was off.

"What kind of peanut butter and jelly did you use?" You asked Harry, looking up at him with an uncomfortable expression, eyebrows scrunched together.

"The same stuff I've been using," He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the tv.

"Do you think it was expired?"

"No, it wasn't. I checked. What's wro-" He went to ask but stopped when he looked at you. "Okay, so we should probably get you to a hospital."

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"Baby, your face is all swollen. Come on, put your Crocs on so we can go," Harry gently ordered and shot up from the couch. He walked over to the coat hanger and grabbed two of his jackets. He put one on himself and grabbed the car keys.

"What do you mean my face is swollen?"

"Y/N, is something wrong with your throat, why are you scratching at it?"

He walked over to you and wrapped his other jacket around your shoulders.

You hadn't noticed your hand was scratching at your throat until he asked and now that was all you could focus on.

"I don't know. It's itchy, Harry. A-And it feels like it getting harder to breathe," You frowned. You felt your eyes water and the scariness of it all was starting to set in. "Harry, what's happening?"

"Baby, just put your shoes on, okay? You're gonna be fine," He tried to assure you but you let out a sob anyway, making his frown grow deeper.

You trudged over to your shoes by the door and slipped them on while trying to contain your tears and regain control over your breathing.

The ride to the hospital was quick and, before you knew it, you were lying on a hospital bed, hand gripping tightly onto Harry's.

"You're gonna be fine," He assured you and kissed your hand softly.

He pulled away and kept rubbing circles with his thumb while the doctors and nurses surrounded you, hooking you onto machines and giving you antibiotics. You nodded and closed your eyes, not to sleep but to try to relax, and hoped this nightmare would be over soon and, you'd be back home.

–

Spending three days in the hospital wasn't ideal but Harry wanted the doctors and nurses to be thorough. You were hooked up to monitors the whole time and nurses were coming in and out to check your temperature, blood pressure, heart rate, and blood oxygen level. Not only that but you had a small tube in your nose to help with your breathing. You were completely against it at first, claiming you could breathe just fine, but one look at Harry's pouty face made you give in. You were taking blood and urine tests to monitor your organs and see what exactly you were allergic to, but you had a pretty good idea of what it was before the doctors could break the news.

Harry stayed by your side for all three days, not bothering to go home and change. No, you weren't dying but he wanted to be there to make sure you were as comfortable as possible.

Once you were back home, Harry texted your parents, Anne, and Gemma to let them know. Anne and Gem wanted to fly out to see you but Harry assured them that you were going to be just fine and you'd call once you were all settled in at home. There was no stopping your parents though; they were on a plane to New York from their vacation home, ready to baby you once they landed.

Harry marched into the apartment and went straight to the kitchen, not hesitating to throw the practically full jar of peanut butter in the trash. He went to the bathroom and started a bath for you, even carried you to the tub once it was ready. He helped strip you of your clothes and get you into the bath as if you were a fragile baby that needed help.

"Har, I'm okay. Come get in the tub with me; you deserve to relax. Please," You breathed out and looked up at him with soft doe eyes.

"Since you asked so nicely," He teased and gave you a reluctant nod.

He undressed and sat at the other end of the tub, before pulling you into his arms and holding you tight.

"I'm gonna be okay?" You asked. You knew the answer but you just wanted to hear him say it. It always calmed you when he said it.

"You're okay, Baby. Just allergic to peanuts," He sighed and let his wet hands trail down your back.

"I eat peanut butter all the time. I'm just not understanding how this happened," You frowned, shaking your head in disbelief.

"It happens but you'll be okay."

"Our tradition is ruined though," You grumbled and moved away to look up at him.

"We'll have a new tradition. We hate peanuts in this house! Fuck peanuts!" He yelled out and stuck up two middle fingers, making you burst into laughter.

Once you calmed down, you leaned back into his chest, sighing happily, completely in awe at the fact that you had the perfect boyfriend.

"My face isn't back to normal yet?"

"Not quite. You're still my little marshmallow for few more days."

[AN: I was gonna make this a part of my Quaratine Series but I decided not to overcomplicate things with the hospital and stuff. but yeah, hope you enjoyed ! feel free to shoot me a message about literally anyhting !]

[gummygowon]

a dad? | kim hongjoong

word count:1.7k 

genre: fluff, angst if you really wanted it to be 

established relationship!

warnings: possible pregnancy

you were bouncing your leg up and down so quickly you were sure you were going to leave a dent on the floor.

you nervously eyed the timer on your phone and then glanced over to the thing that could basically change everything in your life.

"y/n? you alright in there?" your best friend asked, as she knocked on the bathroom stall.

she had dragged you into the nearest drug store after you've thrown up for the third time this week and had just missed your period.

"yeah, i'm doing just great." you replied sarcastically, hiding the nerves in you.

she just sighed at your response, "you know y/n, he's not going to leave you."

"you don't know that." you argued.

you had been dating kim hongjoong for quite awhile now. you were there during his trainee days and had supported him through everything. his career as a kpop idol was soaring and having a baby now would cause so much chaos for the both you. the public didn't even know of your guys's relationship so how would they react once they found he was dad already at the age of twenty-one? shit, you guys weren't even engaged.

a loud, annoying alarm had rung from your phone, pulling you back to reality.

"y/n, i'll still be here for you no matter the result." your best friend comforted you.

you took a deep, shaky breath as you peered over the test. the test that would ultimately change your lives forever.

two bright red lines stared right back at you as your heart dropped.

you felt tears prick your eyes and a quiet sob escaped your lips.

"y/n?" your best friend asked before slipping underneath the stall to hug you.

you were shaking violently as you held up the positive pregnancy test, "i'm pregnant."

your best friend didn't say anything as she engulfed you into a tight hug. you began sobbing into your friend's shoulder.

"how i am going to tell hongjoong." you cried.

"honey, relax. he'll still love you no matter what and he won't push you to do anything you don't want to do."

you didn't say anything else after that, afraid of what was going to happen next.

the two of you have been living together for three years now and your apartment seemed too small to raise a child. and how was hongjoong going to take care of your child if he was working all the time at the studio? how was his manger going to react to you guys being so careless? their manger was already shifty on your relationship with him to begin with.

all of your doubts and worries had fogged up your mind like smoke.

but your biggest fear was that he was going to leave you in the dust and never talk to you again. the thought of that ever happening made you sob even harder.

you were thankful to have your best friend. you knew she was going to stick through everything with you and you would do the exact same without a doubt. hell, she was comforting you right now in a freakin cvs bathroom.

once you had controlled your sobs and were ready to face the harsh world, the two of you went back to your apartment before your boyfriend was going to come home.

the two of you watched old disney movies until your best friend had to leave for dinner. and of course, she made you pick out potential baby names.

deep down, you wanted to keep the baby and start a family with him. the two of you even talked about having kids together but you didn't realize that the opportunity would literally come right now in the midst of his career and your bachelor degree. having a baby would be incredibly difficult to take care of but if the both of you wanted to keep it then you were going to figure out a way.

you had thrown away the box of the pregnancy test and let the real thing sit on your sink counter.

"y/n!" your best friend called for you. "the water is boiling!"

you had just begun preparing dinner for your boyfriend and you. tonight, you settled on making some tasty, homemade ramen. nothing, too special. you still had no idea how you were going to tell hongjoong that you were carrying his child.

you sprinted out of the bathroom, leaving the test on on the counter.

"shit!" you yelped as you quickly turned down the heat before the pot had a chance to overflow.

you sighed in relief as you watched the bubbles sink back down. "you know, you could've just helped me out here."

"i would but my mom made some bombass noodles and i can hear them calling my name." she defended as she slipped on her shoes.

"oh, fuck you." you joked and stuck out your tongue.

"yeah, yeah. i'll see you later." she waved at you and reached for the door.

"thank you for everything!" you called out to her as she slipped out of your apartment.

"of course, just text me if you need anything else ok?"

you nodded happily as you watched your best friend leave. you added the noodles into your pot and were stirring them carefully. until it hit you that you still didn't have any idea on how you were going to tell hongjoong.

"fuck." you mumbled under your breath and reached for your cell phone.

you immediately texted your best friend, how the fuck am i supposed to tell him?

you watched as the bubble with three dots appeared,

i'm not the one dating him.

bitch that has nothing to do with this

you're creative, i know you can come up with something and i think hongjoong would prefer something more small and private anyways.

ok yeah, you're right ig.

thank youu

i know i'm right

literally shut up

you're welcome

you sighed in response to the text and focused on making dinner while thinking up ways to tell him.

you were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice that your boyfriend came home. it wasn't until he wrapped his arms around you while you were chopping the chicken for dinner. you jumped at his jump, nearly cutting off your finger.

"don't scare me like that!" you whined at your boyfriend.

he chuckled at you, "sorry, i didn't mean to scare you. i thought you would've noticed me by then."

you felt your heart begin to race.

"hey are you okay?" he asked as he leaned his head on your shoulder.

"yes, i just have something to tell you later." you confessed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"why can't you tell me now?" hongjoong whined.

"cause you stink." you laughed as you escaped his grasp. "shower and i'll tell you while we eat.

"fine, you're so difficult."

you rolled your eyes at him, "guess i just have more to eat then."

"oh, hell no."

"go shower!" you scolded.

"ok, ok i'm going." he put his hands up in defense as he left the the kitchen.

you resumed your cooking and was now putting the dish together. you were in the middle of setting up the dinner table when hongjoong came bursting into the kitchen again.

"what?" you perked your head up at him in concern.

"is this yours?" he asked as held up the plastic stick.

your felt your heart drop and nodded your head weakly, not even daring to look at him. you were supposed to tell him and not have him find out like this. this was going great so far. "i was going to tell you today."

he moved closer to you, "when did you take this?"

"today." you mumbled. "i'm sorry, i don't know how it happened. and i swear i'm still on the pill-"

"y/n," he cut you off. "i'm so happy."

"huh?" you were honestly feeling about twenty different emotions right now. "you're not mad?"

"why would i be mad?" he asked as he pulled you into a hug.

"because i thought it would ruin your career." you confessed. you felt him began to shake. "hongjoong?"

he pulled away from you with tears streaming down his face. "y/n, i'm going to be a dad!"

you couldn't help but laugh at his reaction with tears of your own.

"i'm so happy." he cried.

you cried even harder, feeling overwhelmed with happiness even though the reveal didn't go the way you wanted.

"i love you." you whispered before pulling him into a kiss.

"i love you too." he stooped down to your belly and poked it softly. "and this little one too."

*extra*

it had been about two years since you've given birth to you and hongjoong's child. parenthood wasn't the easiest thing ever but with the two of you tackling it together made it significantly better. the two of you ended up being the best parents you guys possibly could have imagined. you and hongjoong made sure to love and care for your babygirl at all times.

sometimes you would bring her to the dance studio so she could watch her dad practice.

"appa!" your little girl shouted as the two of you slipped into the studio.

"is that my favorite niece of all time?" san asked in a gentle tone as he tickled her cheeks.

hongjoong had swooped her up from san and into his arms.

"hey!" he whined.

"she's literally my child, san." hongjoong said as he rolled as his eyes. "now how's my little aurora doing huh?"

he pecked her cheek multiple times making her spurt into a fit of giggles. your little girl never failed to light up the studio no matter what was going on.

hongjoong kissed you on the cheek. "what a nice surprise."

you smiled at him, "she's one the who suggested we saw her appa."

"is that right?" he cooed at her as he put her back on the floor. she had immediately grabbed your leg. "do you wanna watch appa dance?"

aurora nodded excitedly as you picked her up and sat down on the couch in the room.

you watched your soon to be husband dance his ass off with eyes full of love. everything you needed was right here in this dance studio and you couldn't be more thankful.

[everykindofnerd13]

The Adventures of Hayato Kamitani and his Life with the Kashimas

After highschool, Hayato and Ryuuichi moved in together in an apartment in their hometown. Ryuuichi was going to college for education so he could hopefully be a primary school teacher, and Hayato was going to school for a chemistry major, but he was actually on a scholarship for Baseball, which Ryuuichi couldn’t be more proud of him for. Unsurprisingly, Kotaro has been moved into the apartment with them as well.

And while he may only be 7 at the time, once he’s 9 at least he’ll want his own room, so Kotaro stops sleeping with Ryuuichi every night, in favor of staying in his own bed in the apartment. This meant that there was a special opening in Ryuuichi’s bed that Hayato was all too happy to take. There were nights that Kotaro would wander into the room, looking frantic, and Hayato would have to scoot away from Ryuuichi to allow the still surprisingly small child to snuggle between them.

It reminded Hayato of their first year dating, back in highschool. Kotaro was still only 4 years old and he still slept in the same bed as Ryuuichi. Hayato had stayed the night a couple of times, and had of course been forced to let his annoying little brother tag along, the toddlers always ended up tucked between Ryuuichi and himself, sleeping like, well, babies, while the teenagers smiled cheerily at eachother over their heads.

“Kotaro, can you go get Ryuu please?” He asked quietly one evening. Kotaro was sitting on the kitchen counter watching Hayato stir a pot of ramen. He looked up at the request and nodded dutifully, just like he would have when he was three.

“Thank you Ko!” He exclaimed after him then turned back to the pot.

Not even five minutes later Kotaro was hopping back up on the counter and Hayato felt his arm being pushed up as Ryuuichi wormed in between he and the stove to look at the pot of ramen.

“Well hello,” Hayato grunted, resting his chin on Ryuuichi’s head. Ryuu hummed and leaned back while Kotaro leaned over to put his head on Hayato’s shoulder. He chuckled, deciding to cherish these few years that Kotaro would join their cuddly moments rather than scrunch up his nose and make a face the way Taka did.

“Your mom called,” Ryuu muttered, pulling his two favorite quiet boys to attention. He almost laughed when they gave him practically the same look.

“Yeah, she was wondering if we could take Taka this weekend, apparently she made plans and forgot that you wouldn’t just be there, again.” Hayato groaned at the prospect of keeping his brother at his apartment for a weekend but when he saw the look in Kotaro’s eyes he felt his resolve practically disappear.

“Fine...” Hayato grumbled and Ryuuichi laughed.

“That’s good, because I’d already accepted,” Hayato glared at the pot of ramen but figures he couldn’t very well argue, considering he’d just accepted.

“You shouldnt make decisions without talking to Haya-nii, Nii-Chan,” Kotaro pointed out from next to his brother and (practically) brother in law. Both Hayato and Ryuuichi looked surprised at his words of wisdom but Ryuu actually looked down at his shirt in thought, brows pulled together in that cute way he always had when he was thinking particularly hard. He looked up apologetically at Hayato after a few seconds.

“He’s right, sorry Hayato,” Hayato only shook his head and kissed Ryuuichi’s forehead.

“It’s fine Ryuu, you didn’t do anything terrible,” Hayato conceded, “But I think it’s a good thing that Kotaro is so observant, otherwise I’d probably just let you push me around,” Ryuuichi laughed , pulling a similar chuckle out of Hayato’s lips. They bantered together for only a few minutes more before sitting down at the table to eat the now finished Ramen.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Ryuuichi wasn’t home when Hayato heard the apartment door open and close, and the telltale sound of Kotaro trudging to his room. This wouldn’t be so strange if Kotaro didn’t usually come to Hayato to ask for a snack, and then sat on the couch to eat it, not bothering Hayato for about thirty minutes before he would come in and ask for help on homework.

Hayato stood cautiously and walked quietly to the now 10 year old’s bedroom. It was decorated with pandas and ladybugs mostly, as those were his favorite things. There was nothing wrong with the childish room other than the clearly distressed child sitting in the middle of his bed, knees pulled to his chest as he choked back sobs that were racking his body. Hayato’s heart clenched seeing Kotaro like that, he rarely ever saw him cry, let alone son, and that was usually when Ryuuichi was in some kind of danger or he had been scolded.

“Kota?” He asked softly and the mint haired child gasped as he looked up at Hayato, eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet from tears.

“Hayato...”he muttered, voice far too deep and raspy for a ten year old boy.

“Can... I come in?” He asked carefully. Kotaro wasn’t very territorial, but if there was anything that both Hayato and Ryuuichi wanted to get across to him it was that this room was his space, he didn’t have to let Ryuuichi or Hayato in here, and he was free to do whatever he wanted in here, as long as he didn’t make it too big of a mess.

“Yeah...” Kotaro has muttered and Hayato had carefully walked over to the bed and sat down. He had never been much good at comforting, but he’d had a little practice with Ryuu and his stressful fits or frustration. He opened his arms, once again offering Kotaro the hug, in case the quiet kid didn’t want to be touched. Luckily, he practically sprang into Hayato’s arms, beginning to sob into his chest.

“What happened Kota?” He asked softly and the boy sniffles , still buried in Hayato’s chest. He began to rub up and down his back and run his fingers through his hair, this is what always calmed Ryuuichi down and it seems to work well for Kotaro as well.

“There were some kids at school...” Kotaro explained and Hayato immediately tensed, willing his overprotective senses to weaken, he needed to comfort Kotaro first.

“What did they say?” He asked softly and Kotaro hiccuped again.

“They said it was weird that I talk about you and Nii-Chan so much...” he elaborated, still shaking with silent sobs, “Then they said it was weird that I lived with my brother instead of my parents, and they wouldn’t stop calling me an orphan, but I’m not because you and Nii-Chan are my guardians, and I’ve still got Saihara and Obaa-Chan on top of that, I don’t understand why they would say that!”

Hayato hugged him tighter and kissed his head while Kotaro sobbed violently again.

“Kotaro, you’re not an orphan okay, and you��re not weird, and it’s okay to talk Ryuu and I, you’re in a unique situation and that’s okay, because you’re doing great,” he assured the child in his arms, “Don’t listen to those kids, some kids just don’t believe that you can be happy with a sibling, you saw how convinced Taka was when he was younger, and they’re probably angry that you’ve got such a good relationship with Ryu, okay?”

“I don’t want people to think I’m weird because my parents aren’t around, I can’t control that!” Kotaro shouted, and Hayato was admittedly taken aback, he had never seen the boy so angry.

“You’re right Kotaro, you can’t, but you also can’t control how other act, and what they say. What you can do is control the way you react,” Hayato soothed, rubbing Kotato’s back.

“When those kids say those things, ignore them, and tell a teacher, okay? And if the teachers don’t help, tell Taka, I’m sure he’d have plenty to say about it.” Kotaro nodded into his chest and then confused to cry. Hayato tried his hardest to be as comforting as possible for the next few minutes. Kotaro eventually fell asleep, curled together against Hayato like the man was a pillow.

Hayato heard the door open and close not even ten minutes after Kotaro fell asleep.

“Hayato?” He called, clearly confused by the lack of welcome from his fiance and brother sitting in the living room.

“In here!” Hayato called, trying to stay quiet but wanting Ryuuichi to hear him. He heard Ryuuichi appraching the bedroom door and when his fiancé popped his head in and saw Kotaro curled against Hayato, he was immediately not only confused but confirmed.

“What happened?” He asked quietly, sitting carefully on the bed next to Hayato and moving his hand to also run his fingers through Kotaro’s hair.

“Some little assholes making fun of him for living with his and not having parents,” he explained and saw the immediate anger on Ryuuichi’s face.

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, like I said, Assholes.” Ryuuichi sighed and leaned his head on Hayato’s shoulder, looking concerned at his little brother.

“I knew it was almost inevitable that kids would question it but... that they would make fun of him baffles me...” Hayato hummed in agreement and kissed Ryuuichi’s forehead, moving the hand in Kotato’s hair to Ryuuichi’s running his fingers through his hair.

“Relax Ryuu, we can go talk to the teacher about it tomorrow when we pick him up, okay?” Ryuuichi nodded reluctantly and closed his eyes, falling asleep on Hayato’s shoulder.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Hayato was standing at the sink doing the dishes when he heard the all too familiar sound of a gaggle of teenagers entering his home. He sighed and turned off the water, placing the pan he’d been holding on the drying towel and reaching for the cupboard, he already knew what was to come.

He pulled down 6 mugs and started the kettle just as the teenagers came in to collapse at the counter. Kotaro stared off into space looking exasperated, Taka and Kirin dropped their heads onto the counter, and Takuma, Kazuma, and Midori all huffed and dropped their faces into their hands.

So hot chocolate it was then...

“What’s going on guys?” He asked and they all groaned in unison. He pulled down the box of hot chocolate mix, then also the whipped cream from the fridge and the marshmallows and chocolate syrup from the pantry.

“Middle school sucks, he heard his overdramatic younger brother grumble, causing him to snort.

“Yeah, imagine having to watch a demonic younger sibling through it all,” he jabbed at his little brother, who only glared back.

“Shut up Nii-Chan! This is an actual problem!” Hayato sighed and nodded.

“Okay okay,” he emptied all the hot chocolate packets into their mugs, and turned to look at the teenagers while he waited for the water to boil.

“What’s going on?” Everyone erupted into complaints, except for the all-saint, Kotaro.

“Woah! Guys he can hardly help you if you all talk at once!” Ryuu exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen. He stepped over to Hayato, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, drawing a fake gag from Taka, some coos from Kirin, Midori, and Takuma, and uncomfortable silence from Kotaro and Kazuma.

“Welcome Home Honey,” Hayato whispered and pulled Ryuuichi up to kiss him again, simply because he knew that it would annoy Taka. Ryuuichi laughed and swatted at his husband’s chest.

“Stop purposefully embarrassing your brother,” he scolded then turned around to look at the teenagers at the table while Hayato kept one of his hands around his waist, rubbing his hip with his thumb.

“You two are disgustingly... what’s the word Kirin?” He asked, looking at the evergreen haired girl expectantly. She huffed and glared at Taka, but there was no heat in it.

“Domestic?” She asked and he nodded.

“It’s gross.” He concluded and Kirin rolled her eyes.

“No Taka, it’s cute, you’re just a stupid boy who knows nothing of love,” she scolded him, and he just rolled his eyes at her. Ryuuichi and Hayato shared a knowing glance with each other then the same look with Kotaro, who looked absolutely exhausted by his friends.

“Anyway, what’s going on guys?” He asked them all and then picked up his hand as they all began to talk at once. The kettle began to whistle so Hayato turned away, begrudgingly taking his hand off Ryuuichi’s hip as he began to pour the hot water into the mugs. Ryuuichi stayed turned around and pointed at Takuma who was sitting on the far left.

“You first Takuma, what’s your conundrum?” He decided and Takuma took a deep breath.

“I’m stupid.” He decided after a moment and Ryuuichi glared at him.

“None of your are in any way stupid, and I’d honestly prefer if you stopped saying such awful things about yourselves, but what’s going on?” He asked, then turned around to start putting the whipped cream on the mugs full of hot chocolate and marshmallows, then dribbling chocolate syrup over them.

“I’m doing really badly in my math class, and if I fail this next quiz they’re not gonna let me play in the next practice match!” He exclaimed, clearly very stressed by the consequences of failing, rather than the prospect.

“Well, what are you having trouble with?” Ryuuichi asked as he set a mug of hot chocolate in front of each he and his twin brother. Hayato set one in front of Midori and Taka, then Ryuuichi set one in front of Kotaro while Hayato brought his over to Kirin.

“It’s not that I’m bad at the math, when the problem is laid out I can solve it, but understanding the question is the problem!” He groaned and threw his face into his hands.

“Well, why don’t you just start studying as a group, it always helped me to sit down with Maria, Yuki, Nezu, Yagi, and of course Hayato when I was struggling, why don’t you?” Takuma looked around at his friends and they all nodded encouragingly so he nodded as well.

“Okay!” He exclaimed, and Hayato couldn’t help but think about how some things really never changed.

“Right, next, Kazuma, what’s on your mind?” The muncher more docile twin sighed deeply.

“I have art block, and that’s stressful because I have a whole canvas painting due in a week!” Kazuma brought his hands up and entangled his fingers in his hair, pulling, hard. Ryuuichi panicked slightly and rushed over to grab his hands, encouraging him to let go. Kazuma eventually did and Ryuuichi sighed, moving his own hands to the blonde’s hair and running his fingers through it comfortingly. Hayato moves over to the kitchen counter and sat on it, waiting for Ryuuichi to ask the next question.

“Alright, Kazu, is there a prompt? Or a subject I guess?” The boy sighed, and nodded.

“The prompt is comfort, but it has to be a scene, and I know that everyone else is gonna paint like, a hug, or their own canvas, but that’s just not what I want!” He exclaimed frustrated again. Ryuuichi hushed him and patted his head.

“Kazuma, you are one of the most creative kids I know, I believe that you can figure this out, okay?” Ryuuichi kissed the top of Kazuma’s head then walked over to stand between Hayato’s legs, facing the 14 year olds.

“Alright, Kirin, you’re next,” he said while Hayato wrapped his arms around his chest.

“Alright, so we’ve got that new music teacher this year right?” Ryuuichi nodded, and she continued, “Well, apparently she heard about me before she came here, and now she expects more from me than the other students! And like, I know that I can be better than the other guys in a lot of things, but I’m not perfect! Now she’s getting angry when I can’t get something and I don’t know what to do!” Kirin threw her hands up in the air hysterically and then fell back onto the counter. Ryuuichi looked sad for a second, then took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Kirin, you are very talented, and it is true that you are above most people with your skill, and maybe that makes it seem like she should push you harder, and I agree with her, you need to be challenged so that you can improve, but if you genuinely believe that what she is doing is too much, you need to tell her that, and explain that you have limits just as much as the other students do.” Kirin smiled at Ryuuichi and nodded.

“Okay...,” his eyes moved down to the next teenager, “Kota?” He asked his brother shook his head.

“I don’t have problems Nii-Chan, their problems are my problems, and your problems are my problems, but I don’t have my own problems...” Kotaro explainer, pulling a laugh from Hayato and the other kids. Ryuuichi just looked at him for a monent.

“Okay, but if you do,” Kotaro held up his hand, but before Hayato could scold him for being rude he spoke.

“If I have problems I go to my friends first, because maybe they can help solve it without getting an adult involved, then I need to come to you if it gets worse, if I don’t want to tell you I should talk to Hayato, I know, Nii-Chan.” Ryuuichi blushed and Taka snickered. Hayato also let out a small laugh at his husband and brother in law.

“Alright, well um... Taka, you’re next then,” Ryuuichi pointed out, looking to his brother in law. Taka nodded and then dropped his head again.

“Okay, so this problem is...” Taka trailed off and Hayato and Ryuuichi immediately got worried.

“Well... I’ve wanted to play baseball like Nii-Chan for... years, like forever basically, but I know that I’m not as good,” Taka explained and Hayato felt his chest clench. So it was this kind of problem.

“The problem is that the coach thinks I should be as good or better because I grew up with the legendary Hayato Kamitani as a brother and mentor...” Taka explained, getting quieter and quieter.

“And I want to play but it seems like everyone knows about you and I’m just... here, and they expect me to be more than I am and I just don’t know what to do.” Taka brought up his hands to press the heels to his eyes as he began to cry, whether out of frustration or distress neither Hayato or Ryuuichi knew but they didn’t really care. Hayato tapped Ryuuichi’s wrist and walked over to Taka.

“Don’t cry, you oversized toddler, it’s fine,” he assured his brother, rough-love always being his strong suit. Taka took a deep breath and nodded, but didn’t look at his brother.

“I don’t want to disappoint you...” he muttered and Hayato felt his chest clench again.

“Taka, just because my thing is baseball doesn’t mean it has to be yours, you’ve been doing MMA since you were like, 6 and you’re better than some of your teachers, it’s okay to be average at some things,” Hayato reaches his hand up and began to run his fingers through Taka’s hair.

“Taka, do you want us to talk to the coach, do you want to?” Ryuuichi asked softly and his brother in law looked up at him in surprise,

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, I took a major in education and a minor in child psychology, I know how things effect children, I’ve been studying child psychology practically since I was ten, and I know that expecting so much from you isn’t good for you, I want to talk to your teacher, but if you don’t want me to, you can,” Taka gasped and looked at Ryuuichi with wide eyes then he looked at Hayato.

“I want... I want you guys to...” he concluded and Ryuuichi nodded, walking over to hug Taka.

“Do you want us to talk to your teacher too Kirin?” Hayato asked and she hesitated for a moment before nodding. The two adults nodded back and then looked at Midori.

“Alright, what about you Midori?” Ryuuichi turned, asking for her to elaborate on what her problem was. Ryuuichi pulled out the bench on the other side of her and sat down, Hayato taking his place behind Ryuuichi, hands around his waist and chin on his shoulder.

“Mm, it’s not such a big deal compared to these guys...” the significantly younger girl muttered and Ryuuichi shook his head.

“No, if it’s enough to trouble you, it’s enough to solve, now tell us,” Kotaro and Taka cracked a smile at Ryuuichi’s words.

“Well... there’s these girls in my class, and they started talking to me at the beginning of the year, and I thought that they actually wanted to be my friend, but lately they’ve been asking a lot of questions about Taka, Kotaro, and the twins and I don’t want to just sit around and talk about the boys! I wanna do other things too!” Ryuuichi looked down and smiled, shaking his head. He then looked up at Hayato who averted his gaze. He practically cackled before turning back to Midori.

“Drop them, they’re interested in the boys, not you, and they don’t deserve your attention,” Ryuuichi suggested and Midori nodded, Hayato spoke up next.

“You should hang out with the boys specifically in their sight, just to rub it in their face,” he suggested and Ryuuichi swatted at him.

“It’s kinda funny that you four kinda became the equivalent to Hayato, Nezu, Yagi, and I when we were in middle school.

“But the weird thing is that Kotaro is more similar to myself, and Takuma is more like you,” Ryuuichi laughed, ignoring the bewildered faces the teenagers gave them.

“And Taka is like Yagi!” He pointed out. Hayato threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

“What are you guys talking about?” Kirin asked and Ryuuichi struggled to catch his breath so he could explain.

“When we were in highschool, Hayato, Yagi, Nezu, and I were what people called the Favored Four. We were always being asked out and confessed to, Hayato even had upper class men into him,” he explained and Taka stuck out his tongue.

“Gross.” He said and Ryuuichi giggled.

“Yeah, I was exhausted, imagine being in love with your bestfriend and everyone just keeps asking you out, everyone but him!” Hayato complained and Ryuuichi smacked him.

“Hush!” He scolded while Taka, once again, fake gagged at his brothers’ antics.

“You’re really good at giving advice Ryuuichi,” Kazuma spoke up and the man was stunned.

“Uh, thank you Kazuma,” he muttered and cast his gaze down, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Mama always said you’d make a great parent...” Midori said and Ryuuichi blanched. He’d never thought about having kids.

Or, well he’d never talked to Hayato about it, they had enough on their plate, with Kotaro and work, but he’d definitely thought about kids before.

“It’s true! And Kotaro will be gone soon! You two should start thinking about it!” Kirin said and Ryuuichi blushed brighter. Hayato huffed and looked at the teenagers annoyed. It was funny how one of his expressions could say an entire sentence.

Like, “Shut up you idiots, you’re embarrassing him and we’ve got other things to worry about right now.” Everyone of the kids mouths were shut and they didn’t talk any more. After a couple seconds Hayato walked to the closet.

“So, what are we watching this time?” He asked as he pulled down a few blankets and pillows. Taka, Midori, Kirin, and Takuma lit up, and the other two got about as excited as it gets with the two of them, and they rushed over to the living room.

“Let’s watch a horror movie!” Taka shouted and Hayato rolled his eyes.

“Absolutely not.” He growled and his little brother glared back. Hayato kicked him lightly as he walked over to drop the pillows and blankets on the floor. He then went back to the closet and grabbed some metal poles and the same amount of metal plates with small holes in them.

Ryuuichi smiled at him as he took the poles and set them up on four corners. Two next to the couch, and two next to the tv stand. One more was placed in the center. They began pulling a string of thin but strong rope through the holes at the top of the poles and then they began to put blankets on top. The metal plates were used as bases at the bottom of the poles, and they had a drawer in the corner table that had a box of rubber bands in it. With the kids help, Hayato and Ryuuichi put the blankets on top of the poles then secured them in place with rubber bands. The girls were inside setting up pillows and blankets in a comfortable way while the boys were outside, helping the adults with the fort. Kotaro was also inside the fort, looking through movies and trying to find one he thought both Kirin and Taka would agree on.

They’d started doing this regularly when the kids were ten years old, hence the ready and waiting closet of fort supplies, and Hayato had quickly designed a kind of easily set up structure for the blankets to rest on. Using kitchen chairs and furniture was not doing too well for them. The Kamitani-Kashima apartment was the usual hangout for the kids, though Ryuuichi couldn’t help but dread the day they decided hanging out in the same house as their older siblings wasn’t cool.

The adults both settled on the couch, Ryuuichi cuddled into Hayato’s chest. Kotaro and Taka were sitting on the other side of the couch while the other four teenagers sat on pillows on the floor in front of them. They watched a random movie that Kotaro had put on and just chilled out for a couple of hours before Ryuuichi insisted on driving the twins, Kirin, and Midori home, Taka just stayed with them.

•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

“Nii-Chan!” Kotaro shouted from his bedroom, where he was doing homework. Ryuuichi jumped up from where he was laying down with Hayato. Hayato folllwed as well.

“If you don’t control your overenergetic brat of a child, I’m moving in with the Kamitanis.” He growled. Kotaro was never very aggressive, so Hayato was immediately very confused by his words. When they came into the room, they saw Kotaro’s chemistry homework on the bed, Kotaro standing next to his bookshelf, his panda ceramic they’d bought him when he was young, shattered, and Akari sitting on the ground looking on the verge of tears as Kotaro glared at her. Ryuuichi gasped and rushed over to get Akari away from the broken glass while Kotaro just continued to glare.

“What happened Kota?” He asked as he passed Akari off to Hayato.

“That- f-...” Kotaro took a deep breath.

“That brat, wandered in here while I was trying to do my homework, and decided to try and climb my shelf! She shattered my panda, and started wailing, which has definitely completely thrown me off and I’m honestly just getting more annoyed.” He explained, all in one breath and fuming. Ryuuichi took a step forward to begin scolding Kotaro because Akari is only young but Hayato put his hand on his shoulder, silencing him. He offered Akari to him and gestures for him to leave then turned back to Kotaro. The 16 year old was still visibly fuming as he grabbed the trashcan next to his desk and began to throw away the remnants of his panda ceramic.

“Kotaro, look at me,” Hayato commander, trying to stay calm and understanding. Kotaro looked up at Hayato, anger, hurt, and, terrifyingly, fear in his eyes.

“What’s it gonna be Haya?” He asked, still mindlessly throwing the glass into his trashcan.

“Kotaro, I understand that you’re annoyed, but she only 4,” he reminded him and Kotaro couldn’t help but grimace at his words. He knew that. He knew that Akari was only 4 years old but he was annoyed, that was one of his oldest possessions, and one of his favorites, he couldn’t help the anger.

“I know, Haya, but this is the sixth f-,” Kotaro has to catch himself again, he didn’t like to curse in front of his brothers, “this is the sixth thing that she has broken this week, and I’m just getting sick of it!” He exclaimed, clearly feeling awful as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Hayato sighed and nodded. He walked over to kneel down in front Kotaro, avoiding the broken ceramic.

“Why don’t you just shut the door? She can’t reach the handle,” he pointed out, and Kotaro shook his head.

“No, because I only shut the door whenever I’m made at you or Ryuuichi, and I don’t want No-Chan to think that I’m mad at him,” he gritted out and Hayato nodded in understanding.

“Do you want to... put away some of the more fragile things until she’s older or you move out?” Kotaro took a deep breath and shook his head again.

“Okay, well we can hardly keep her locked in her room, this is her house too,” Hayato pointed out and Kotaro nodded with a sigh.

“I just, I want her to stay away from my things, I don’t mind if she’s in here, which is why I put the fragile things higher up but she just, climbs the shelves!” Kotaro was getting frustrated again so Hayato reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

“What about a glass cabinet, I’ll get you one so you can keep things on display, but the cabinet would have magnetized doors, she wouldn’t be able to open them.” Kotaro took a deep breath and nodded. Hayato nodded as well and went to go get the broom.

“Is he okay?” Ryuuichi asked from where he was sitting in the kitchen, watching Akari carefully as she sat in her high chair eating orange slices.

“He’s frustrated, Ryuu, he’s 16 years old and feels like his space isn’t being respected,” Ryuuichi nodded in understanding, worrying his bottom lip. He looked at the ground, casting his gaze away from his husband.

“I almost yelled at him Haya...” he muttered, Hayato could barely hear him. But when he did, he was shocked, Ryuuichi didn’t yell at anyone, let alone at his little brother.

“I don’t know what came over me, but I just got so angry when he talked about Akari like that...” He muttered and Hayato sighed when he watched a sob rack his husband’s body.

“Ryuu, do you remember when Taka drew all over my autographed baseball?” Ryuuichi took a deep breath, brows furrowing in thought before he nodded.

“Do you remember what you said to me?” He asked next and Ryuuichi shook his head softly.

“Well, it was something to the affect of, ‘You can get angry over things like this, but you can’t punish them, they don’t understand’, and you’re right, and I was the bigger person, but you also have to understand that Kotaro doesn’t get angry like that easily, he’s genuinely upset that Akari keeps breaking stuff, and I think that’s even more upset that neither of us made a move to prevent it.” Ryuuichi nodded in understanding then fell forward, resting his forehead against Hayato’s chest. He began to cry softly, and Hayato wrapped his arms around him.

“It was so much easier when he was still a baby, and he didn’t fight with me...” Ryuuichi whispered and Hayato laughed.

“He still doesn’t fight with you, he just has things of his own now,” Hayato pointed out and Ryuuichi let out a breathy laugh.

“Daddy sad?” Akari asked from behind them and Ryuuichi sat up and wiped his tears.

“No, honey, I’m not sad,” he assured her and she furrowed her brows.

“Daddy angry?” She asked this time and he shook his head again, she nodded then pointed down the hall of their home.

“Ko-Chan angry...” she elaborated, and Hayato sighed, letting go of Ryuuichi to walk over and pull Akari out of her high chair. He held her to his chest and bounced her as he spoke.

“Yeah, Ko-Chan’s angry, but that’s because you weren’t being very nice,” he said and tears welled into her eyes, Ryuuichi rushes forward to take her but Hayato turned away giving Ryuuichi a stern look. Ryuuichi looked kinda upset but backed down.

“Akari, you really hurt Kota’s feelings when you break his things,” she sniffled and Hayato patted her head.

“Just wanna play...” she muttered and he nodded in understanding.

“I know that baby, but those are Kotaro’s things, and when you break them it makes him very sad, how would you feel if Kotaro broke your toys?” He asked and she gasped. Looking at him with shiny eyes. He nodded with a matter of fact face.

“Yeah, I know, that feels bad doesn’t it?” She nodded and he nodded back at her.

“Do you want to apologize?” He asked and she nodded quickly. Hayato looked back at Ryuuichi with a face that basically read, ‘She needed that,’ Ryuuichi nodded in understanding.

“Okay, lets go,” he said and pointed at the broom and vacuum. Ryuuichi nodded in understand and reached for both, following Hayato and Akari to the bedroom. When they reached the doorway, Hayato knocked softly.

“Kota?” He called, drawing Kotaro’s attention to him, “Can we come in?” Kotaro looked wearily at the toddler in Hayato’s arms but nodded, shutting his chemistry book and ushering all of his papers into a pile on top of it. Hayato came and sat down, setting Akari on the bed next to him. She looked up at Kotaro with wet eyes and crawled toward him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. Kotaro looked shocked by the action, but wrapped his arms around her in return.

“I’m sorry Ko-Chan!” She shouted into his chest and his eyes widened.

“I forgive you Akari...” he whispered and she snuggled into his chest. He sighed, resting his head on top of her’s, and looking up at his brothers.

“I’m sorry...” he mouthed and Ryuuichi shook his head quickly while Hayato did so much slower. After a minute, Hayato have Ryuuichi a look, and he nodded while Hayato carried Akari out of the bedroom, he laid her down in her bed to take a nap then went to sit outside the door in case he needed to step in and moderate.

“I’m sorry Kotaro,” Ryuuichi muttered and he heard Kotaro sigh.

“No, it’s not your fault...” he insisted, he heard what he assumed was Ryuuichi sitting down on the bed.

“Kotaro, this is your space, and those are your things, and I’m sorry that she broke them, I need to take responsibility, because admittedly, that’s what I did when you did something wrong as a baby,” Kotaro took in a shaky breath and it sounded like Ryuuichi hugged him.

“I’m sorry that I expected so much for you, I forget sometimes how hard I worked so that you didn’t have to grow up too fast, but I think I might be comparing you to me at your age, and I’m so sorry...” He heard Ryuuichi begin to cry and poked his head into the room, making eye contact with Kotaro who moved one of his hands grasping Ryuuichi to reach out for him. Hayato smiled and stepped closer to his boys, pulling them into a hug.

“It’s true that you had to grow up too quickly Nii-Chan, but I’ve always been really mature, so I don’t blame you for expecting better from me,” Kotaro muttered and Ryuuichi cried harder. Hayato sighed, hugging them both tighter, he didn’t interject, he just acted as a comfort.

“You’re still a child Kotaro, no matter how much you don’t act like it, you’re a child, growing into an adult who wants what’s to have his own space and things because you have that ability and I don’t know why I didn’t think about it...” Ryuuichi muttered and Kotaro spoke up again.

“Because you never experienced that feeling Nii-Chan. You’ve always been so giving and incredible, you never wanted to inconvenience anyone, and you never wanted to see me unhappy, so you sacrificed a lot...” Hayato rubbed both of their backs as they cried.

After a while he ushered them both out of the bedroom to calm down and watch some TV for a bit.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

What we want:

Chapter 14

Sakura wasn’t doing well.

It had been a couple days since her miscarriage, and most of the time, she spent the day buried in the bed, staring at the opposite wall.

He still went into work and had to go home to watch over Himawari and Bolt, but always came by when he could.

There was no difference.

And Sarada would be home tomorrow.

He had to do something.

 

“Sakura?” He mumbled into the darkness, fumbling for her light switch. Snapping it on, he watched as the pink haired kuniochi flung the blanket over her head and burrowed into her blankets.

Naruto sighed, moving into the room quietly.

“Hey, Sakura?”

Silence.

He tried again, rubbing at his cheek, extremely nervous suddenly. He remembered all those times he received those punches from her.

Gulping audibly, he made his way over, sitting down in an empty space on the bed.

“Are you awake?”

Silence.

“You need to get up, Sakura.” He said to her prone form, watching her chest rise and fall.

Silence.

Naruto closed his eyes, feeling a rumbling in his chest.

Welp.

Rolling his eyes, he stopped and listened to what Kurama was going to say.

Your mate is upset.

“You think I don’t know that.” He grit out, bristling at the condescending tone.

Because of the pup?

Silence.

Kurama rumbled, snarling, gnashing his teeth at Naruto.

“What would you have me do? I can’t do anything.” He hissed out loud, feeling his own rage start to bubble up.

“Naruto?”

The blondes head whipped to the side, looking into the dull green eyes that were now looking at him, all arguments with the fox ignored.

“Sakura.” He gasped, gripping her hand that wasn’t tucked below the blankets.

She looked groggy, her cheeks puffy, nose raw from where she had been crying.

Still beautiful, no matter the circumstance.

“Are you talking to Kurama?” She mumbled, closing her eyes again.

Naruto blanched, but nodded his head.

“Y-Yeah, I don’t usually respond out loud to him. But, he’s angry.”

Sakura looked at him again, sniffling.

“Does he know about…?” And she trailed off, looking towards the window.

Naruto nodded.

Silence.

“Sakura? Is there anything I can do? I really want to help, please?” He almost begged her, desperately trying to find some way to pull her out of this depression.

She didn’t even look at him, but he could see the cloud fall over her features at his question.

“You’ve been in the bed for days now, Sakura, you should get up and move around a little bit. I’m trying hard to not push, but I’m worried about you.”

Silence.

He didn’t know what to do from here, he was at a complete loss and felt almost powerless.

“Sarada is coming home tomorrow.” She mumbled to him, moving the blanket off her face, to scratch at the rawness around her nose.

Naruto nodded.

She sighed, pushing at his hand to move out from underneath the covers, swinging her feet over the side of the bed.

The blonde stood up and held out a hand for her, but she pushed him away again, standing up on her own.

Naruto pushed that to the side, swallowing the hurt feelings that were rising up.

“You can go now, Naruto. Thanks for checking in on me, but I can take it from here.” She muttered, picking up a brush off her nightstand.

The young hokage just stared at her back, not understanding why she was brushing him off.

Opening his mouth to say something, he noticed that her fingers were trembling and he shut his mouth quickly.

She had just lost their baby. It wasn’t surprising that she needed some time alone, without the other half of the baby she had lost standing over her, asking a myriad of questions constantly.

Swallowing dryly, he tried to smile, “Okay, Sakura. But if you need anything. You know where I’ll be.” He told her quietly, walking up behind her to place a soft kiss on the top of her head.

She stopped brushing her hair, and stared at him through the mirror, giving a pointed nod as her eyes filled with more tears.

Naruto scrambled out, trying to block out the sob that followed him through the door.

 

 

“Mom! I’m home!” Sarada yelled into the house, noticing the food on the stove.

There was a shuffling in the room beside the kitchen, and Sakura popped out, wiping at her eyes hastily.

“Sarada!” She exclaimed, rushing forward to pull her daughter into a hug.

The raven haired kunoichi giggled, then blanched, “Mom. Too tight.”

Sakura let up a little but didn’t pull away altogether.

“Uh, mom? Are you alright?” Sarada asked, feeling her moms arms tremble around her frame.

She let her go abruptly, pulling away to hide her face from her child.

“Y-Yeah, just missed you is all.” Sakura whispered, wiping her tears away.

Sarada raised an eyebrow.

“I was only gone for a week. Did something happen while I was away?”

Silence.

Sarada got a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“M-Mom? Did something happen while I was gone?” She asked again, this time more quickly and with a hint of dread behind the question.

He mothers gaze was focused on the floor, but she gave the tiniest nod.

Sighing deeply, Sakura gripped her hand, and pulled her into the living room, sitting her down on one of the sofas.

“You should sit down for this sweetheart.”

 

 

Sarada wiped tears off her cheeks when her mom was done telling the story. The pink haired matron completely cried out at this point.

“I wasn’t sure I should tell you right now, it’s hard for me to even understand.” She said to her daughter, sitting beside her prone form.

“I’m glad you did.” She muttered, reaching out to hold her mother’s hand.

Silence.

Sarada sniffled, sighing.

“What about the clinical trial?”

Sakura looked down, shrugging lightly.

“Ino told the Hokage-sama that he’s stable now. The post-surgery fever broke, we’re just waiting for him to wake up now.”

When she heard the news from Naruto on the third day of her bedroom blues, Sakura felt a rush of relief, then instantly a rush of dread. He might have slipped into a medical coma. And if that happened, and he never had any coherent brain waves, they would have to unplug him and let him go.

It wasn’t better after that thought, just made her feel even more guilt for the parents that would have to sit over their child and watch as his eyes stayed closed day after day.

“Mom. You did everything you could. You’re the best doctor this part of Konoha, and even beyond that. It’s not your fault if he doesn’t wake up.”

Sakura chuckled, wiping at her nose.

“Thank you, baby. It’s just, had I not performed this surgery, he could’ve had time with his family, before he died. Isn’t a little bit of time better than no time at all?”

Sarada stared her mother down.

“Yes, but he would’ve lived his life in pain, every day, being shot up with different drugs every three hours at the ripe age of 9, mama. Believe me that is not a life that he wanted.”

Sakura smiled, running her fingers through the short strands of her daughter’s hair.

“How’d you get so wise?”

Sarada smiled, “From you, of course.”

 

 

The two of them talked for a little bit longer, Sarada gushing about all the techniques she learned from her father, stayed up and watched a couple movies, then Sarada slipped into bed around nine, leaving Sakura to wash the dishes, even though Sarada told her to leave them for tomorrow.

It helped clear her mind of everything that was happening in her life, if only for a couple minutes.

She sighed, scrubbing at a particularly hard stain and thought about Naruto, remembering the look of pain when she dismissed him yesterday.

At the image of his wounded eyes, she heard a crash outside her front window and jumped slightly.

Growling, she grabbed a kunai that was resting on the shelf in the kitchen, focused her chakra into her right hand and flung open her door with the left.

“Wait, Sakura!” A frightened Naruto yelped, narrowly missing the punch that would have sent him into the neighboring land.

“Naruto!?”

He grinned slightly, taking a step back from the dangerous look in her eyes.

“Now, Sakura, I-I only came to see how you were doing, no need to get hasty.” He laughed nervously, taking a few steps backward as she advanced on him.

Bonk!

“Ow!” Naruto grunted, feeling the goose egg start to form on his temple.

Sakura rolled her eyes at him but smirked a little at his reaction. Felt like old times.

 

“Do you want some dinner?” She asked him as he pouted in one of the kitchen chairs.

He shook his head, losing the pout, now smiling at her. She couldn’t help but give a small smile back.

Silence.

Sakura grabbed a spare plate from her fridge, putting it before him.

“I said I wasn’t hungry, Sakura.”

She only raised an eyebrow.

“I know that you haven’t eaten anything but ramen in days, Naruto. Now that Hinata has moved out, I know there hasn’t been a lot of cooking going on in your home. If you’re ever there.”

Grunting, he just shrugged. They both knew she was right.

 

After he was done eating, he stood up and washed the bowl off, setting it aside on the towel. Turning, he watched Sakura quietly sip her tea.

“How are you?” He mumbled, not sure if he should bring up the topic or not.

Sakura side eyed him but nodded stiffly.

“Getting through it.”

Naruto shuffled his feet, crossing his arms.

“Does Sarada know?”

Nod.

“Are you upset with me, Sakura?”

Silence.

Setting her tea down slowly, she felt her eyes start to burn. Biting her lip, she turned to him, watching as his face fell.

“I’m mad at myself. It was my fault that the baby was lost, Naruto. I- I just got so stressed out, and I wasn’t taking care of myself the way I was supposed to.”

The blonde couldn’t listen to that nonsense anymore. Pushing himself away from the sink, he moved over to her and enveloped her in his arms.

Sobbing, she snuggled into his embrace, pushing her face against his stomach, letting her tears fall.

“It’s no-one’s fault, Sakura. Look at me, please look at me.” He begged her, cupping her face in his hands.

Pain filled eyes met his, and his stomach clenched at the pain that lay within them.

“We can always try again; do you hear me? This wasn’t it for us. And we will love that baby with everything we are, just like the children we have now. Okay? We will get through this, together.”

Sakura bit her lip to stifle another sob.

“H-How do you know, Naruto? How do you know we’ll get past this?” She whimpered.

Naruto stroked her cheeks, wiping some of the liquid away.

“Because we’ve gotten through so much before. Together. Remember all that chaos with the nine tails I put us through? And guess who was right beside me?”

Sakura stared at him.

“You. In the middle of all that chaos was you, Sakura. Always you. I was pretending for so many years it wasn’t you, but, I’m pretty sure we’re both tired of pretending.”

She nodded, sniffling, grabbing at his wrists to nuzzle her cheek in his palm.

“When it’s you and I, we’ll always get through.” He reassured her, kissing her forehead tenderly.

 

“Stay the night.” She whispered to him as he was putting his sandals on.

He looked up at her, and scratched at his whiskers, “Um, are you sure?”

Nodding, she switched the light off, flicking a heated glance over her shoulder at him.

They cuddled together in bed, Sakura’s head on Naruto’s bicep, both of them staring at the ceiling as he ran his bandaged hand through her hair.

“Did you mean it, Naruto?” Sakura whispered into the darkness.

He turned his eyes to her, catching the green of hers.

“Every bit of it.” He whispered to her, his heart swelling at the hopeful expression that fell over her features.

Cuddling closer to him, Sakura sighed, reaching out to run a finger over an abdominal muscle.

“It’s a shame we can’t start now.” She mumbled, trailing a path down his hard belly.

Naruto gulped, feeling a stirring in his lower half.

“We can’t, I read online that it takes two weeks for the body to get over a-a.” But he stopped, licking his lips, not wanting to say the word miscarriage.

Sakura smiled slightly, touched that he had looked up everything.

“I know.” She whispered, continuing her finger trek down his body.

Naruto felt his pelvis tighten as one finger turned into two, and she was steadily climbing downwards.

“Sakura?” He mumbled, trying to keep the haze out of his voice.

She hummed but kept going.

“I don’t think we should do anything right now. You’re still recovering, and I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.” He grit out between clenched teeth.

Sakura stopped what she was doing, tucking her hand underneath his side, moving further into his warmth.

Naruto thanked Kami.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Hey no, I just don’t want you to feel you have to do anything, Sakura. You’ve been through a lot these past few days, and I just want you to be comfortable. That’s all.” He finished lamely, biting his lip.

The kunoichi just sighed, knowing that he was right. She wasn’t exactly ready for anything like that right now, and he seemed like he wasn’t either. The entire day had been very emotional for the both of them, and in all honesty, she was starting to get a stomachache.

“I’m still bleeding a little bit.” She murmured, feeling her face heat up.

He didn’t say anything, but she felt his worry anyway.

“It’s natural, the cervix needs time to heal, and my body just needs to readjust itself. Bleeding is normal for a miscarriage around this time.”

Naruto nodded, pushing her further against him, if that was at all possible.

“If you need me to do anything, get paperwork for you, or to talk to any of your nurses, I can do that.” He said, kissing her ear softly.

Warmth enveloped her chest, and she just nudged him back with her nose.

“Ino is coming by tomorrow to bring me everything. She came two days ago and told me about the clinical trial, there should be an update on him tomorrow. Hopefully there’s good news. If not, it’s still a waiting game.”

Silence.

“I think he’ll come out of it. He just has to find the will to do so.”

Sakura looked at the side of his face, watching his jaw clench, and whiskers move on his cheeks.

“What do you mean the ‘will’ to live?”

Naruto didn’t turn to look at her, just continued to stare at the ceiling.

“I just mean, when people know they’re sick, and there’s a chance they won’t ever stop being so, they can…give up on themselves.”

Silence.

“It doesn’t matter how many times others say it, or priests pray with you about it. You have to feel the need to continue on within you. Remember the will of fire that burns within the village?”

Sakura nodded.

“Well, the same can be applied here. That will has to burn within you to carry on.”

Sakura just stared at him, not knowing what she did to deserve a person like him to love her.

But she’d spend the rest of her life figuring it out.

Moving her hand up, she grabbed his fingers, intertwining there’s together, and shut her eyes against the darkness.

But this time, she felt only light.

[keichanz]

Superstitions

I could have waited til the 19th to post this but eh, decided not to. 

Spooktober Day 19: Superstitions 

“If I recall, you’re the one who wanted to have this party, not me, so why am I the one stuck running all over hell getting everything you need?”

“Because you’re the best husband in the history of ever?”

A snort. “Try again.”

“In my defense, you didn’t say I couldn’t have the party, sooo really, this falls back on you, dogboy.”

“Falls back on—last I knew, it takes two people to have a discussion, not just one sneaky wench that randomly decided to significantly increase the electricity bill with all these fucking obnoxious decorations and constantly chase me outta the kitchen when all I want is some damned ramen.”

“Well clearly we know who wears the pants in this relationship.”

“God, you’re such a pain in my ass.”

“Mmm, but you love me anyway.”

Groaning aloud while his cheeky little wife cackled merrily on the other end of the line, Inuyasha adjusted the grip he had on the large box under his arm and transferred the heavy bag of various Halloween decorations to his other hand while he watched his son skip ahead of him on the sidewalk. Tai had wanted to go with him and Kagome said it was a good idea anyway so he wouldn’t be constantly underfoot while she was baking. With Izayoi hanging out with Rin and friends somewhere, she could put her entire focus into the task at hand without worry about little people’s needs.

“Just do me a favor and don’t burn down the house while I’m gone,” Inuyasha said dryly as Tai hopped about in front of him while saying something under his breath. “I gotta run to work for a bit but it shouldn’t take long, an hour tops.”

“Ye of little faith,” Kagome teased and his lips quirked upward slightly. “I’ll have you know I have everything under control—oh no, my cookies!”

“Goddammit Kago—”

“I’m kidding!” his wife said, laughing as Inuyasha released groan number two. “It’s fine, babe. I’ll save you some pumpkin cookies and a cupcake.”

“I want one, too!” Tai announced without looking back, clearly having heard his mother over the phone.

“Tai wants one too,” Inuyasha relayed and Kagome laughed. The promise of tasty treats confirmed, the two said their goodbyes and without stopping his stride the half-demon took a moment to browse his messages, noting he’d gotten a text from Miroku about the party and one from  Kagome that she’d just sent ten seconds ago. All it contained was a heart emoji and he smiled.

He passed by Tai, who had for some reason stopped his hopping around and was staring avidly down at the ground and without looking up Inuyasha said, “C’mon bud, you’re gonna go to work with me for a bit and hang out with Nazuna while I take care of a few things. Remember her? You like her, right?”

When Tai didn’t give a response and he didn’t hear small feet following after him, Inuyasha paused with a frown and looked back to find that his son had completely frozen on the sidewalk. He couldn’t see Tai’s expression with how he had his head bowed, but his little body was shaking and that was what spurred Inuyasha into action.

Immediately concerned, Inuyasha pocketed his phone and backtracked to kneel in front of his son, carelessly setting the box and bags of decorations on the ground.

“Tai, what’s the matter? Are you hurt? What happened?” Putting a hand on his frail shoulder, Inuyasha ducked his head to catch a glimpse of his face. He was not expecting to find him looking absolutely horrified as he stared down at the ground, his eyes impossibly wide and his bottom lip trembling as he held back tears.

Truly alarmed now and wondering what could have possibly caused this sudden change in behavior, Inuyasha smoothed back his bangs and tried to tilt his face up with a finger under his chin.

“Hey, bud,” he murmured and managed to get his son to lift his face enough to gaze into eyes identical to his own and awash with unshed tears. “What’s the matter? Nazuna’s not that bad, is she? I thought you liked her.”

Despite his attempt to get him to smile, Tai’s expression didn’t change, however he did manage to get a response from him.

“M-M-Mamaaaa,” he whimpered as the tears fell down his cheeks.

Inuyasha frowned. “What about your mom? We’ll only be gone an hour, Tai, then we can—”

“I b-b-broke her b-baaaaaaack!” Tai wailed and then abruptly dissolved into sobs right there in the middle of the sidewalk, heedless of the passersby that were giving them various looks of concern and annoyance.

Inuyasha reeled back and gave his son a puzzled look.

“You—what?” he asked. Why the hell did he think that?

Tai didn’t answer and continued to sob, tears running unchecked down his face, his little ears wilted on top of his head as he called out for his mother.

Reacting to his son’s distress, Inuyasha’s own ears flattened and he winced, gathering his boy close and holding him as tiny hands clung to his jacket. He had no idea why he suddenly thought he broke Kagome’s back, and his gentle inquiries about it went ignored. Or maybe he was too upset to answer, but in any case, Inuyasha needed to get to the bottom of this.

Sighing, Inuyasha rubbed his back and tried to calm him down enough so he could get an eligible answer out of the boy, but when Tai just shook his head and called and managed to say something about a crack through his tears, it suddenly clicked.

Inuyasha blinked and dropped his gaze down to the pavement below their feet. The cracked pavement.

“Step on the crack and you’ll break your mother’s back.”

Inuyasha wanted to laugh as relief flooded him and he released a little chuckle as he shook his head. Oblivious to his father’s realization, Tai continued to cry for his mother and thinking they’d drawn enough attention already, the older half-demon decided it was time to put a stop to that.

“Alright,” he soothed, using is jacket sleeve to wipe the child’s wet cheeks and simultaneously gain his attention. “C’mon, calm down. That’s enough, Tai. Stop crying.”

At the gentle reprimand, recognizing the faint stern tone of his father’s voice, Tai took a few deep, stuttering breaths and controlled his sobs to sniffling and hiccoughs. His little nose was red, his eyes were still wide and shining with tears as Inuyasha produced a tissue out of nowhere – Parent Tip #541, never leave home without them – and prompted him to blow his nose.

“Your mom is fine,” Inuyasha promised as Tai obediently blew his nose into the tissue. “You didn’t break her back. Was all this because of that old saying where you step on a crack and break your mom’s back? Is that what this is about?”

Sniffling and giving sucking in a shaky breath, Tai nodded wordlessly, lifting a hand and scrubbing at his eyes.

Inuyasha shook his head. “That’s just a superstition, Tai. Something that was made up a long time ago by some whackjob with nothing better to do. It’s not real, and I promise your mom is fine and her back isn’t broken.”

Tai sniffled and still looked unconvinced, so with a sigh Inuyasha gathered his son into his arms and retrieved his cell from his pocket once again.

“You wanna talk to her and see for yourself?” he asked as he brought up Kagome’s number.

Cradled in his dad’s arm, Tai stuck his thumb in his mouth and nodded.

While waiting for his wife to answer, Inuyasha put the phone on speaker and managed to balance the kid in his arms as he collected the bags and box off the ground, keeping a firm grasp on the mobile.

It went to voicemail and Inuyasha rolled his eyes. Of course the one time she didn’t answer he needed her to so Tai didn’t believe she was really incapacitated.

And speaking of, his son turned big gold eyes his way, once more awash with unshed tears and suddenly Inuyasha understood why Kagome was never able to tell him no. Not when he looked like that because he was just about ready to drop everything and sprint home.

Sighing, he put the phone away and kissed Tai’s forehead. “S’okay, bud,” he assured and started walking down the street again. “She probably just has the mixer on or something and will call back when she noticed the missed call. Trust your old man when he says Mama is perfectly fine, alright? If I could I’d take you home to see for yourself, but the thing at work can’t wait anymore.  I promise to be quick, though. Will you keep Nazuna company while I work?”

Inuyasha rubbed his son’s ear with his free hand and although he was clearly still upset, Tai sniffled once, whimpered, and gave a single nod before tucking himself under his father’s chin as a small arm wrapped around his neck.

Wishing he could do more for the distraught child in his arms, Inuyasha sighed, nuzzled Tai’s head, then continued toward his truck parked on the side of the street, praying that Kagome would look at his phone and call him back.

She didn’t call him back and when Inuyasha went to collect his son from the company daycare fifty-two minutes after they’d arrived, Nazuna’s worried face as she peered at him from over Tai’s head told him everything he needed to know.

The caretaker gave him a questioning look as she transferred the tiny half-demon into his father’s arms and Inuyasha grimaced before shaking his head. Nazuna frowned but nodded, then her face bloomed into a gentle smile as she leaned down and bid Tai a fond farewell, brushing back his bangs and saying she hoped to see him again soon.

Tai didn’t say anything and hid his face in Inuyasha’s shoulder.

Inuyasha shrugged helplessly and with an understanding smile, Nazuna walked them to the door, giving one last wave before closing the door after them.

The ride home was quiet and Inuyasha kept sneaking glances at him in the rear view mirror. He didn’t even play with the toy he’d brought along with him and Inuyasha pressed his foot down on the accelerator a little harder.

When he pulled into their driveway eight minutes later Inuyasha breathed a sigh of relief and wasted no time in cutting the engine, hopping out, and getting Tai out of his booster seat. He’d get the decorations later; right now his son was more important.

“Okay, buddy,” Inuyasha murmured as he gathered his son into his arms and walked toward the side entrance that led to the mudroom. “Let’s go get those cupcakes your mom promised us, yeah?”

Hopping the three steps, he entered his home and even through the door that led into the kitchen Inuyasha could smell that his wife had been very busy while he was gone. Tai must have noticed the scents of chocolate, pumpkin, and his mother too because his nose started twitching and he lifted his head.

With a tiny grin, Inuyasha opened the way into their kitchen and Tai spotted her the exact moment she turned around, brown eyes bright and a big smile on her face.

“My boys!” she greeted as Inuyasha set their desperately squirming son down. “You’re just in time, I have some yummy treats—”

“Mama!”

Faster than a blink Tai hurled himself at Kagome with such force she stumbled back with a startled gasp. Clinging to her legs and crying into the fabric of her jeans, Tai’s grip was vice-like as he sobbed over and over that he thought he broke her back and how glad he was that she was okay.

Utterly perplexed but more concerned at their son’s behavior, Kagome shot Inuyasha a wide-eyed look of complete befuddlement but when he just shook his head and mouthed “later,” she nodded and knelt down to console her five-year-old.

“Hey,” Kagome cooed, coaxing her son to release her legs and wrap his small arms around her neck inside. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m okay, see? Nothing’s broken, I’m aright, I promise...”

Kagome picked him up and cuddled him, rocking him in her arms, murmuring to him quietly and rubbing a downy soft ear in his fingers in an attempt to soothe. It worked, because Tai finally settled down to sniffles and quiet whimpers, clinging to his mother for dear life and refusing to let go.

“Y-you’re really okay?” he asked, tilting his face up and gazing up at her with liquid amber eyes.

Kagome smiling lovingly down at him and pressed her lips to his forehead, then his runny nose. “Yes, baby, I’m okay. I don’t think I’d be able to pick you up if I weren’t! Oof, Tai, you gotta lay off the ramen. Your mom’s a weak little human compared to my strong half-demons!”

As she’d hoped, that managed to get a little giggle out of her son and both parents relaxed at the sound.

Confident their boy was going to be okay now, Inuyasha left to retrieve the bags from the truck while Kagome wandered over to the kitchen counter with Tai in her arms.

“I don’t know about you, but I can definitely go for a big chocolate cupcake and whaddaya know, I saved the biggest one for my big boy!”

Outside, Inuyasha had just shut the truck door with bags in his hand and box under his arm when he turned to find a black cat calmly sitting at the end of his driveway, staring at him with big yellow eyes.

Inuyasha froze. The cat blinked slowly at him, yawned, then stretched languorously before leisurely strolling away, thin black tail raised high and swaying back and forth as it disappeared into the neighbor’s yard.

Inuyasha watched it go, sighed heavily, then tipped his head back to glare up at the overcast sky.

“That’s not funny.”

[onthepyre]

and it hurts (part 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3

shes finally done...... now to start another, longer fic

Alana stands awkwardly next to the door, several feet away from Zoe, who sits with her legs stretched in front of her on the couch.  It feels like the opposite of what she was expecting.  She thought Zoe would be weird and she’d have to ease her into the neat, tense, and clearly meticulously cleaned house, but Zoe seems to be at home while Alana can’t think straight.  

She blinks at the ground for a moment, trying to take a full breath, before she looks back up at Zoe.  “Do you, uh, want something to eat?”

“Sure!” Zoe says, and she nearly jumps off the sofa, following on Alana’s heels to the kitchen.  “What are your parents up to?” she asks, leaning against the door frame.

Alana pauses in her search for something easy to cook.  “They try to avoid me when I have friends over.  Since I’m the one who has a guest, it’s my responsibility to be hospitable and also teenagers stress them out.”

“Did they decide it’s your responsibility or did you just get lucky with a mom who occasionally agrees with you?”  Zoe’s envy is audible, but so is her sarcastic grin.

“I got lucky.”  Alana smiles, suddenly glad for her parents and their good nature and a little bit worried about the Murphys.  She spins around, facing Zoe.  “We have pizza rolls, ramen noodles, and cereal.  Everything else requires real cooking.”

“Oh my god, my parents have never let us have pizza rolls.”  Alana nods and pulls them out of the fridge, but turns back to Zoe.  

“Wait, you’ve never had pizza rolls?”

Zoe shakes her head.  “They say they’re ‘too unhealthy.’”  She rolls her eyes.

“This is going to be quite the night.”  Alana dumps the frozen pizza rolls onto a plate and sticks them in the microwave.  “Do you want anything else?”

Zoe ventures into the kitchen, glancing at the mugs hung along the wall.  “Do you have any hot chocolate?”

Alana grins.  “In the cabinet by the fridge.”  

In just a few minutes, they’re sitting across from each other at the kitchen table.  Zoe takes a bite of a pizza roll and her eyes widen.  

“It’s so hot!”  

Alana tries to hide a laugh.  “I probably should have warned you.”  

Zoe nods, but takes another bite anyways, clearly burning her mouth.  “Why must everything I love hurt me?” she wails.  Alana doesn’t even try to pretend she isn’t laughing.  Zoe glares up at her, smirking.  “Are you mocking my plight?”

“Yes.”

Zoe places a hand to her chest.  “I shall die.  Then you may no longer mock, for you will be… sad or whatever.”

Alana laughs again.  “I’ll be very ‘sad or whatever.’  You’d better not die.”

Zoe wrinkles her nose and eats another pizza roll whole.  “You aren’t my boss.” 

Alana sighs.  “Please?”

They stare at each other for a moment, silently debating the matter.  Zoe is the first to break.

“Fine.  I guess I won’t die.”  She rolls her eyes, but smiles.

“Good.”

They finish their meal in a comfortable near-silence, occasionally pausing to crack jokes, mostly at Zoe’s expense.  Alana does her best to avoid staring, keeping her eyes focused on her plate.  They force themselves through an hour or so of awkward smiles and almost-forced laughs before Alana invites Zoe into her bedroom.  They tumble onto the floor, giggling like little kids, both secretly trying to come up with a reason to inch closer to the other.

“Okay,” Zoe says finally, once she’s calmed down a bit, “Okay.  Do you want to play a game or something?”

Still not completely composed, Alana nods.  “Yeah, what… what do you have in mind?”

Zoe grins wickedly, like she’s just come up with a dastardly plan.  Something catches fire in Alana’s stomach.  

“Truth or Dare,” she states.  Her smirk widens, and Alana groans.

“What are we, thirteen?”  She smiles in spite of herself.  

“Yes,” Zoe says.  “C’mon, ‘Lana, it’s a classic!”  

Alana glares, mentally battling the girl sitting in front of her, but she relents.  “Fine.  Fine, you fool.”  Again, she smiles, making no effort to hide it from the celebrating Zoe.

“Alright,” she says finally.  “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Alana says without consideration.

“Okay…” Zoe pauses in thought.  “What’s your biggest fear?”

“Whales.”

“...Whales?”

“They’re massive, Zoe.  You could swim through their veins.  They’re so huge, I can’t even imagine it.”  Alana waves her hands frantically, trying to convey the scale of the whales she’s talking about.  Zoe stares on in wonder, trying to figure out how Alana knows this.

“It’s your turn,” she says once she thinks Alana has finished.

“Alright, truth or dare?”  Alana’s face bears the expression of a mother who has just been proudly presented with a necklace made of the macaroni she planned to use for dinner.

“Dare.”  Zoe embodies the roll of the mischievous toddler well.

Alana ponders for a moment.  “I dare you to text the most recent person in your contacts and ask if they’ve seen your copy of Justin Beiber’s autobiography, because you lost it.”

Zoe sighs, shakes her head, and pulls out her phone.  “Oh, my god.”  She cringes.  “It’s Connor.  He texted me, like, five minutes ago,” she tells Alana.  She does not tell Alana that the text reads, “did u kiss her yet.”  She sends a discrete no in response, and then tacks on Alana’s question.  Immediately, Connor responds with several question marks, and then adds, “ur so fuckin weird zo.”  

“He called me weird.  Truth or Dare?”  Zoe tucks her phone back into her pocket, hoping Alana won’t ask to see the response.  She doesn’t.

“Truth,” Alana says again.  “Make it an interesting one, though.”

“Who’s your crush?  I know you have one.”

For a second, Alana considers telling her.  It’s practically the perfect moment, but she doesn’t.  

“Dare.”

“Alright,” Zoe says, barely containing her smirk.  “Call them and ask to speak to their mom.”

And then she’s cornered.  She takes the option she sees as easier, hands shaking as she unlocks her phone.  Alana can barely breathe as she scrolls to Zoe’s contact.  She hits the call button and raises the phone to her ear, staring at the floor.

Zoe’s phone buzzes.  She cocks her head, confused, and pulls it out again.  Alana’s name is displayed on the screen in big letters.  Zoe looks up at her, wide-eyed, as it finally clicks.

“Hi,” she says into the phone.

“Hi.”  Alana’s voice is trembling.  “Is your mom there?”

“No, sorry.”  Zoe is uncharacteristically quiet.  “I’m not at home.”

“Oh.  Sorry to bother you.”  Alana hangs up, but doesn’t lift her gaze from the carpet.  

“‘Lana, I…” Zoe trails off, unable to form a sentence that doesn’t consist only of swearing.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Alana sniffles.  She tries to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a choked-off sob.  

“Wait, Alana, I didn’t mean it like that.”  Zoe crawls closer to her and places her hand on Alana’s jaw, forcing her to look up.  A few tears roll down her cheeks, and she wipes frantically at them.  Zoe’s mouth falls open as she tries to come up with something to say that could make it better.  She can’t.

She kisses her as an apology.

Alana’s lips taste of tears, but Zoe doesn’t mind.  She pulls her closer by her waist, knocking Alana almost into her lap.  She reciprocates, propping herself up with a hand on Zoe’s shoulder and the other on her knee.  She pulls back, still crying a little.

“So what-” her voice cracks “-what did you mean?”

Zoe wipes the tears from her cheeks.  “I didn’t realize it was me.  I didn’t mean to force you to say it like that.  I can’t say I’m not glad you said it, though.”

Alana giggles through the last few sobs.  “I can’t, either.”

She kisses Zoe this time.  And for the first time in ages, nothing hurts.

[inversenova]

Tales from the Cyrpt (2)

It is unsurprising that, when recalling memories of my past, the memories filled with the most unease, the most fear, and the most helplessness are the ones I remember most vividly. Although I am only just beginning my foray into the study of traumatic memories, I know enough from my very recent time in school that this is a relatively normal experience for those who experienced trauma, whether as a child or as an adult. Perhaps the hardest part of all of this, even just the idea of cataloguing and sharing my experiences seems...silly? Pointless? Was my childhood really that bad? There are others, people even that I know, who have been through events similar to my own, and even more who have gone through worse things, harder things, and yet they appear to have processed their traumas more effectively, more wholly, than I have. It is something that I continue to struggle with, these feelings that “It wasn’t THAT bad” or “There are people who are living in war zones and who don’t have any food to eat and here you are complaining because of bullshit!”

Despite these feelings, at the very least I know that I need to get these things OUT, even if they turn out to be “not that bad.”

It has been years since I’ve needed to recall anything and, as such, I find it difficult to remember if my parents fought often amongst themselves. Eventually, perhaps when I’ve worked on processing these things a little more, I’ll be able to speak to my mom about some of it, if only to try and clear up a little bit of the fog, although even she may struggle with remembering some of it. I say that because last year she commented on how, when I was in high school, she was worried I might have an eating disorder. I asked her why she had thought that, and she recalled that I used to worry about every bite of food, every sip of soda, that I would ingest to the point where she worried I might be anorexic. This came as a shock to me and resulted in confusion; I have no recollection of acting in this manner and, when I asked Leigh, a friend I was close with in high school if this sounded familiar to her, my friend Leigh was equally confused, as she did not remember this at all. I wonder, now, if my mother confused my fear of existing in the kitchen or around the rest of the family as me being “peckish” about my food? I used to have a large Ziploc bag with dry ramen and other canned foods that I would take from the pantry at night or when my parents weren’t around (at least, when we moved to Texas I did). What I do remember, however, was how much my mother HATED Bob.

Bob had always been possessive and over bearing towards my mother; I see it more now, as an adult, than I did when we were kids. My hatred of Bob came from the things he did to Aaron and me and the vitriolic, often infuriated, words from my mother who would often confide in me as one would a friend, despite me being her child and often too young to fully understand what was happening. I loved my mother fiercely and tried to be as protective of her as I could, even when all I could do was listen to her tell me what Bob was like and try to make her feel better. As an adult and interacting with a Bob who fought in Vietnam and who has been to, and continues to go to, therapy on a weekly basis I am able to gather more about what he was like when I was younger. My mother has always been, and probably always will be, the most important person in his life. He tries, now, to engage with me and be more open and welcoming when I am around, but even now I find it difficult to get alone time with my mother or to interact with him without her there as a “buffer.”

When we lived in California, Bob worried constantly about my mother cheating on him. He would stalk her, dragging me and my friend or my brother to sit in the van parked outside of where she worked (once she found a job outside of their joint business), where we would sit for hours upon hours so that he could watch the entrance and see if she went straight to her car or not. My mother, a strong woman who, much like myself, did not like to be blamed for things she was not doing, and who had not been cheating on him when she started her new job, eventually did, although I’m unsure of where she met the man she had an affair with. She told me, once she was in the thick of it, that she hadn’t even truly felt anything for the man, but that she’d been so tired of being accused of cheating that she decided that if she was going to be accused of it she may as well do it. I can recall, with a twisting sensation in my stomach, how she described her final meeting with him when he “asked to make love with her one more time” and how he cried or teared up and how...derisive my mom seemed about it all. Her words were contemptuous and she seemed to be making fun of him, but this was likely sometime in junior high and I was the opposite of knowledgeable about sex and love and so her words just confused me.

I’m not entirely sure how long her affair lasted, or when it really began, but I remember the man. I remember how kind he was, how generous and giving towards me and (I think?) my brother. I remember that he found out I was obsessed with Legolas from The Lord of the Rings films and promptly bought and framed a photo of him as a gift to me. I spent at least one weekend or one evening having a sleepover with this two daughters, both of whom were sweet and took to me quickly, playing with me even though we had never met before. This was significant to me, as I’d already begun having trouble with bullies, something that would get worse until my trouble with them peaked in junior high. I also remember strange things about the man and her affair, like that he once drove up to my grandparents house when my mother and I were visiting them so that he could see her, and I think he may have come to the hotel room on the night Bob found out about him; I remember all three of us curled up on a bed while he whispered encouraging and thoughtful things to my mother while we cried. Of course, this may have just been my imagination because my mother had supposedly ended things with him shortly before Bob found out.

The night that Bob found out has haunted me for a long time. My timeline is still off but I feel that this happened at some point during my time in junior high but I’m unsure of what year. I am also aware that all of this happened in the same day, but the order in which it happened is fuzzy at best. The screaming began before sundown, perhaps a couple hours of sunlight were left at most. Doors were slammed and I could tell that, while my parents had had blowouts before, this was something...new, something different. Mostly I knew this because, hours and hours before, sometime in the early afternoon, my father found out. I’m not entirely sure how, whether he’d done his own detective work or if someone else had told him

When he found out, Bob stumbled through the house, wailing and sobbing, louder and more emotional than I had ever seen him before in my life. Crying was not something men did, as far I had learned and been taught and told, and so to see my father in that state set me and my brother off quickly. To this day, I struggle with seeing men be openly emotional, not because “only GIRLS cry!” or anything so pedantic, but because the only time I ever saw a man cry was in my childhood and it was...bad. I only remember feeling fear, although I’m sure I cried, but I can remember my brother, Aaron, two and a half years younger than me, quickly caught up in Bob’s breakdown and sobbing along with him although he didn’t quite understand what was happening. At some point during this, Bob curled up in his closet in the master bedroom, holding a gun and cradling Aaron to him, inconsolable and unreachable no matter how much I screamed or cried for him to stop. Eventually, I found the phone number for some of the other employees that he had working in their store who I knew my dad felt close to and called them. I know that they must have come, and maybe even they took us all away so we  could all collectively try and calm down, but I have no memory of anything else in that day until my mother came home that evening. This was when the screaming, as mentioned above, really started.

Knowing that whatever was going to happen was going to be bad, and I mean BAD, I quickly gathered my brother and our dog (a beautiful German Shepard mix), threw some snacks and water into a small backpack, and set out, leaving behind the fight that was only just beginning. This, of course, was before cell phones were common place and I certainly didn’t have one until high school, after we had moved to Texas. While it may have made more sense for me to have called for help as I’d done before, I don’t remember if that thought ever crossed my mind. At the time, I only remember knowing with absolute certainty that I didn’t want to be there, and that I didn’t want my brother or our dog to be there either. I don’t remember having a destination in mind, but eventually we found our way to a parking lot a couple blocks from my school where some construction company had started to dig a large pit for some reason. I set my brother and the dog free at the pit and watched them, chewing on my lip and pulling out my eyebrows and eyelashes, until the sun had gone down and what meager food and water supplies I had grabbed were gone. Nobody had come looking for us, or at least nobody had found us yet, but knowing that there was nothing else I could do, no one else I could turn to in that moment (stranger danger was always a worry and none of my friends lived within walking distance of my house or where we were at the time), I knew we had to go home.

We returned to our house amidst a few departing police cars and it did not take long for my mother to scoop me up and drive us to a motel. She left Aaron, I think because Bob would not let her take him (although at the time I was upset and did not want to leave him or the dog behind), and I still feel anger over that decision. How could she leave him there? Surely she’d known of the frightening display earlier that very day where Bob had held a gun so close to Aaron’s face? Didn’t she love Aaron?

She explained in the car that we couldn’t take Aaron for the aforementioned Bob reasons but that continues to not sit right with me, even years later. She went on to say that, yes, Bob had found out about the other man. When he had, and when she’d come home, he’d screamed and screamed and screamed and demanded that she tell him who the man was. Before that, however, Bob had tossed our rooms, both Aaron’s and mine, where he found a small cream my mother had given me that was supposed to encourage breast growth (I’d been super small, skinny, slim and without any curves or breasts which had caused a wide variety of bullying which I’ll talk about later), and he’d freaked out, thinking she’d given me some kind of “sex thing.” I’m not sure if he ever found out who the other man was, or that I had been as involved with him as I had been, but at some point my mother had locked herself in the guest bedroom and Bob had taken an electric drill to the door, destroying the lock to get inside. At the time I’d never really been worried that he would hurt her, which I think was why I’d mostly been concerned with getting us out. I’d never seen him hit my mother but I’d seen him hit my brother enough to be more scared for Aaron than for my mom. Eventually, at some point during their fight, Bob had called the police and tried to “turn her in” for the small amount of weed that she’d had stored. One way or another the cops had come out and left without arresting or citing anyone for anything, although my mother was furious that the dogs had been set loose in their bedroom where both the dogs and officers went through her clothing and tossed the room, leaving everything disheveled and some things broken in the mess. I remember going to the motel, and then little else beyond the other man maybe coming over to comfort my mother.

Unlike other things I’ll write about, I did not feel that this was my fault, or that I could have stopped it. Yes, I’d known that what my mother was doing was inherently wrong but... I had felt that this other man might grow to love me and, if he had, maybe he could be my father instead. Among the array of gifts he’d given me, the other man also found out that I loved to write and he’d purchased a small, faux-leather bound journal... Not once, even now, has Bob ever expressed such an interest in my hobbies or what I love. My mother tries, and usually she’s pretty aware, but the subtle encouragement that came with the gift of a notebook was something else entirely, something new and sweet and something I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing until I’d experienced it.

I still sometimes remember the sound of Bob’s wailing, his heart-wrenching cries of despair in our beautiful California home, and I shudder and clench my teeth and wait for the sound and all that it is connected to, to pass.

[thisnerdsadventures]

the last two weeks

Just two weeks ago, my friends and I went out to Yamato’s for the first time. 

It was sponsored by our dorm, so we racked up a nearly $1000 bill. We had a great time, but the end of our brunch came, and a few of us took a walk to the common for a Bernie rally, and the others went to the BPL to study. Afterwards, we all wound back on campus, and went about our Saturday doing the usual psetting. The current source of stress was the cup of grapes situation that spiraled wildly out of control, but in hindsight, it seems so inconsequential now. Eleven days ago, my friend and I went to Harvard for the day to decompress from everything. It was a beautiful day - the sun was out, we were wearing our light jackets. We went for ramen for lunch, shopped at a shoe store, and searched hopelessly for hand sanitizer. I had promised to work on my UROP but felt I deserved a day off, as I had been working tirelessly for a while. We walked around, taking it all in, I talked about how I was excited for our dinner on Friday and going to Michigan later in April for a conference. It looked like things might get better. The next day, the rumbling started. Harvard sent an email forbidding international travel. We had heard of the situation intensifying in Italy, but we were still nervously waiting to see what would happen. There were crisis-related rumblings on top of the usual school stress and all the things that had not gone well this semester, and just like that, the next day, MIT took it a step further and cancelled all large major events and banned international travel.

This was the first shock. Just earlier that day, I argued with my friend about her decision to back out of our spring break Spain trip due to coronavirus concerns. But now, five hours later, I sat on the ground in my friend's room as the shock passed over me. Every group chat was nonstop. What about CPW? What about Senior Ball? What about Springfest? Our spring break plans were definitely in the gutter now. Every question sent chills and dread down my spine. I heard someone ask whether commencement would still happen, and I cracked, not being able to face this eventuality that I prayed wouldn't happen. The rest of the day was gone, lost to the questions and stress and emails that ensued from this notification. But there were still personal conflicts. Personal problems, academic stress bubbling up to the surface for weeks, and it was coming to a head. Our dinner just over a week ago nearly didn't happen, but luckily a few of us still went to Harvard for a wonderful time. Our conversations surrounded how Harvard followed our footsteps just a day later on cancelling major events and how changes were so drastic. We contemplated whether the policy would be extended and whether our summer plans would be affected, but decided that that was too far in the future to worry about. So we ran across Harvard in the 30 degree night, snow falling from the sky, enjoying our time, not knowing what was to come. I spent what would be the last weekend preparing for a case. I prepped nonstop and thought I did really well on it in class, just this past Monday. It was a beautiful Monday, we biked to Panda Express with nothing but light jackets and we wished that every day could be like that, feeling like summer had come early in Boston. The situation outside was worsening, and we were watching closely to see what would happen. My friends from LA were trying to convince me to go to San Diego with them for a couple days now that my Spain trip was definitely cancelled. Over Twitter, we found out Princeton closed first, demanding it's undergraduates not come back from break, but i went to bed that Monday early, to prepare for a full day of research to come Tuesday, as my Tuesdays usually go, unblocked to make progress on my research. When I woke up Tuesday, there was something wrong. I knew from the blast of notifications from every group chat on every social media account I owned. My Harvard chat was 100+ messages deep by 9:30am from their closure and eviction of undergraduate students. I sat up immediately in bed and opened the other group chats, trembling. Another group of my friends were already organizing storage and coordinating travel ideas in the case that we would also be following suit after Harvard. 

I dashed to my computer to access all the other texts and call my dad, who was still awake in Taiwan. He told me to calm down and to wait. But just 30 minutes later, a screenshot leaked, confirming our worst fears - we would also be leaving campus in just a week, moving out for the semester. all classes would be online. My stomach dropped. In my attendance-based class, 2/3 of the class was present, and most were on their phone, checking for updates. We all anxiously waited the rumored 1pm email that would make it official. Everyone knew at this point, and seniors were feeling it all now, the shock, the grief, the celebration already of 4 years on campus. My friends and I cracked open a bottle of wine and took pictures on Killian with the hundreds of other students partying until 5pm. At 5pm though, the email released. It was official. All undergraduates were to move out in a week.

My floor exploded - flights frantically booked. What about storage? I called my mom and she was on it - Sunday afternoon flight booked, same one as my friend. And there was nothing to do except stare out the window of my friends room into the Boston skyline and finish off my wine bottle. And like many of my graduating peers, I realized that my senior year was done, and that I had not even a week to say goodbye to my home and to my friends. I started sobbing, nonstop. I hadn't cried like this since high school. My head of house started up a video call to the whole dorm, and hearing them talk logistics made me cry harder, and when I thought I stopped, I checked my phone and found an email from my professor berating the administration and acknowledging our irreplaceable loss. I cried again, harder. would commencement happen? Even if it did, my dad wouldn't be able to fly into the country. I continued to sob at the thought. After two hours, I eventually found my way to my friends bed where I fell asleep next to her until dinner, and with my eyes no longer swollen from tears, I wandered down to the dining hall with them. We saw other seniors, who had also been crying, judging from the redness in their eyes and cracks in their voices. The pain felt numb for me at this point. My friends stuck around for a bit, and we played some video games. No one on the floor was working, as we all had too much going on in our heads. The house team worked tirelessly to organize storage, and few of us slept that night. We stayed up chatting in the lobby about our families and going home and afterwards lied in our beds, sleepless, staring at the ceiling. The next day, I had just one class to go to, as large classes had been cancelled already. The campus was buzzing with yesterday's events. And in that class, we said our parting goodbyes, and many of us teared up yet again. But we laughed so hard too in that class, as we shared stories from our case just two days ago and for a moment, we forgot our pain. We took a class photo before we parted ways. After class, we lined up for an hour, each and every student, to personally thank our professor. 

My senior friends and I shared many meals together, and we parted, saying we'd see each other once again before we left. I watched my best friend take her swim test and watched as giant friend groups of other seniors came and cheered on their friends, fulfilling their last graduation requirement. To watch everyone support each other in these trying times brought warmth to my heart. I went home and ate dinner with my floor family, as we sat on the windowsills and drank boba and ate grilled cheeses. I was exhausted though, so I planned to go to bed at midnight, but I received a message from my best friend - she no longer was leaving on Monday, she was leaving in just eight hours.

I ran to maseeh and helped her pack until 5am. We packed up her curtains and I held her as she cried because she thought her parents were going to help her pack up her last year, just as they helped her screw in her curtains at the beginning of the year. I helped her store her stuff in the student center and we threw out bounties of trash and food. After I left, I knew with a sinking feeling that I wouldn't see her again for a while. And she cried a few more times and left early Thursday morning. When I woke up, she was gone. So I started cleaning and packing. The first boxes arrived in the green living room. In cleaning out my room, I found stuff from my first days of freshman year, my 8.02 exams, my chemistry notes, old electronics projects hidden away in boxes. And it was finally the end of my road, and so it was time to say goodbye to them. I spent so long mindlessly throwing stuff out, I had forgotten to leave McCormick until I finally went down to the lobby to hang out. And I hung out there for two hours, talking to everyone and anyone. I did a boba order for the ballerz, and my floor did yet another free dinner, so we once again ate together, laughing over the copious amount of free food on the kitchen table. Five or six of us returned to chatting and laughing about studying at home with family around in someone's room. A friend of mine invited us over to play Smash at BC, so we went and played a couple rounds. We returned to slowly packing until 11pm.

Things had been looking ok, as my dorm had dropped large amounts of money in buying everyone nice food. But when everyone received the emergency message from MIT telling us to leave by Sunday instead of Tuesday on Thursday night, the dorm exploded. Group chats started going off endlessly, with rumors of students already being sick or being quarantined on campus. I ran to my friends room, where she was already on the phone with her family, rebooking her flight for Saturday. "Just two days?" I thought to myself. "Not even two days I have left now with her and everyone and this home." She hung up the phone and started spilling rumors of Boston Logan closing on Monday. I melted to the floor, having a full panic attack. The dorm’s chat, another dorm’s chat, and every friend group chat started inciting even more fear and panic with each additional rumor. My ears were buzzing and my vision was blurring as I continued sitting on the floor. GRAs were woken up and started doing rounds on each floor, even though it was well past midnight at this point, to check on all the residents, many of whom were gathered in clusters around the floor. I went downstairs to talk to my GRA when I received a text from my friend. Chills ran down my back - "California might shut down within 24-48 hours." I did the math. The flight I rescheduled to just an hour ago was in 45 hours on Saturday afternoon. I felt another panic attack creeping up on me, so I ran off to talk to my friend. I went back up to my floor, where people were still yelling in the kitchen. She was off to the side, frantically still talking on the phone. Once I had calmed down a bit, I pulled her aside and told her about these messages, and she confirmed them in another group chat, showing me essentially a screenshot of a screenshot of a message in an unnamed group hat. Speechless, I stood in the hallway with her facing me. I guess she didn't know what else to do but hug me and reassure me it would be ok, because we had hit the point of simply not knowing what to do but say "I'm so sorry" to each other, as if it would ease the pain. I stayed up till 4:30am packing. My other friend called me, imploring me to change my flight to Friday, just 12 hours from then. I asked her bluntly, acknowledging my lack of family around the country - "if I can't go home, where am I supposed to go?" She promised I could stay with her in Texas and I stared back in disbelief, that we would reach this point of possibility that we would have no place to go, but that people would be so nice to open their homes to others who simply had no other place to go. I stared at my hopelessly unpacked room, the half consumed cider on the desk, and my sheer exhaustion, which had been kept awake by adrenaline. I called my mom again, who I'm sure was also was sleepless and asked whether our neighbor had also changed her flight. She said she didn't know whether they were able to change it. The next morning, two people woke me up two different times. Early in the morning, I fought for laundry machines and finished up most of my packing. That afternoon, I hung out in the lobby with my friends again and screamed out the window on a beautiful day as we blasted BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY into the courtyard. My dorm had a senior sendoff, complete with a senior gift and confetti, and a walk to Pomp and Circumstance, which was touching, considering we might not get commencement at the end of the year. But having everyone there to celebrate our little community and watch us walk to receive our fake diplomas and take senior pictures meant a lot to me.

Shortly after, I went up to the penthouse to watch the sunset for the last time. I had watched so many sunsets on top of that rooftop, as it was my goto spot when things went wrong. And things had never quite gone so wrong as this time. I looked at Fenway, where I went to my first Red Sox game, and Prudential, where my favorite gelato place is, and over to the right where BU is, where my friends and I run along the Esplanade. Every building, I could pin a memory. I watched the cars run down the bridge, where my friend and I pulled an all-nighter and watched the most beautiful sunrise. I watched the river slowly churn along and thought about how much I would miss seeing this every day. To think that just two weeks ago we had been yelling at each other about taking grapes out of the dining hall, that we were angry at each other for doing A or not doing B or saying C, all these problems were so inconsequential now. When you have just a few days left with the people you love, you remember that being around them and laughing and smiling with them is the most important thing, bottom line. I wrote letters to my friends to thank them for being them and sealed them into envelopes for the next day, and returned downstairs to store my stuff in the storage pod and eat dinner. Afterwards, we lied on our bare mattresses and laughed until 2am. My friend returned from maseeh also late that night, her eyes red from saying goodbye to her senior friends. I said good night and see you tomorrow, for what would be the last time for a while. That last morning, I said goodbye to so many people. It didn't really feel like goodbye, or maybe it hasn't set in yet. I watched my first friend leave in her Uber, and I hung out with my other friend until she left just an hour before me. And then it was my turn to leave, as I said goodbye to all the GRAs and my area director, promising I'd be back. And I took that one last walk out the front door. Halfway down the driveway, I took one last look back at the building I called home for four years, a place that had changed so much since I entered it four years ago, but has also changed me so much too. I thought about where I met my friends for the first time, the midnight piano in the GLR, the many nights spent talking until late night in 4 and 5 west. But the car was waiting, so I turned back to my ride to the airport, and I gave my friend one last hug and watched her wave as I drove away, down Memorial Drive, one last time.

[l000ey]

kwon ryu → r.d

pairing; song mino x rae dara (mention of kwon jiyong)

summary; mino wants a baby but dara tells him that she can’t have babies and why, then they go to visit someone special for dara

warnings; mentions of miscarriage, stress attack and mild depression and spoilers about red’s future

note; poor red dragon :( I think I'll do an alternate ending to see how it would be if she ended up with gd

2019

Dara's head was moving from side to side in sync with the demo of a girl, a possible artist of her new company, that Tian had brought her that morning. It wasn’t bad, the rhythm was catchy, the lyrics in english and along with many "bitches". Her artistic part, Red, she loved it. She smiled and shoved a large handful of ramen into her mouth as she looked at her emails.

She was alone at home since Mino had to go to the studio to finish his solo album but she didn’t care much, she was proud of him and the time alone was always a good thing for her, besides that if Mino was with her she couldn’t finish all the work she had with the opening of the new label, probably if Mino were here she would not even have been able to get out of bed this morning.

"D, I'm home!" The king of Rome exclaimed leaving the keys on the kitchen table. He greeted Jaehee, the housekeeper, who was cleaning the kitchen. "Hi, Jaehee. How are you today?".

"I'm fine, Mino." The woman gave her boss a sweet smile. "Thanks for asking. Dara is in her office, she said not to bother her until lunchtime” She sighed, picking up the plate with the remains of pancakes and chocolate syrup.

"Did she get up later today too?" He raised a curious eyebrow. Lately Dara had been behaving differently, didn’ t talk much, locked herself in her office or in the studio that she had at home and only went out to eat, have dinner and then go to bed. Mino thought that maybe it was because she was very focused on opening her own company, because her parents had told her they would come to visit next month or because she hadn’t been on stage for a while. Whatever it was, it was affecting her and that was worrying not only Mino but also her employees, her fans, her friends and the whole world.

Jaehee nodded, making her white hair bun move with the movement of her head. "She got up an hour ago, had breakfast in silence while looking at her phone and when she finished she locked herself in the office. Although about ten minutes ago came and prepared an instant ramen "

Mino let out a sound from his throat, making her understand that he understood and after giving her a slight smile he headed towards the office. He sighed when he saw her move her head with some song that was listening on her headphones, he smiled before closing the door behind him and leaned against the door watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. She kept humming a song that he didn’t know how to recognize and her eyes were focused on the screen of her computer, not realizing that her husband was right in front of her. It must be that the song ran out at once because she took off her headphones and smiled, even without looking at him.

"Are you going to stand there longer? You look like a creepy stalker” She heard him chuckle before approaching her and sitting on one of the chairs in front of her desk."How's the album? "

"Interesting" He shrugged, still crossed his arms "And the company?"

"Interesting" She made the same gesture as him making both laugh, when the laugh died Mino sighed without erasing his smile while Dara filled her mouth again with ramen.

"D?" The girl made an affirmative noise at his question, unable to respond with words because her mouth was full of food "I want to have a baby".

Immediately the brunette began to cough because of the surprise almost choked, Mino got up to help but she stopped him raising a hand, swallowed and drank water and then cough a couple of times more. She shook her head, her eyes were closed and her body tense. The boy frowned, was it so bad to want to have a baby with the person you love?

"Are you okay?" His voice drew her to reality. She opened her eyes and nodded before smiling and taking his hand across the table, her  thin hands were much smaller than his.

"Mimi" The brown eyed boy smiled quickly, he loved that nickname for some reason, but only if it was she who called him that because if you did not call yourself Rae Dara and you called him that way you ran the risk of taking a punch in the face " I...Why so suddenly? "

"Today Hanbin brought Hanbyul and, well she is not a baby anymore, but she is so pretty and it was so beautiful to see her and Hanbin hugging each other or how she fell asleep in his arms" He moved in his place and put both hands around hers with the other hand that was free "I want that, with a little princess that looks like you or a champion that looks like me and teach them how to rap, dance and produce, it would be incredible. I want to have a child with you".

A silence covered the room. Both looked at each other in total silence, she looked at him with pity while he looked at her with hope that she would say yes. Dara broke the visual contact by finding the glass that made the desk much more interesting, Mino frowned and took a hand to her chin to raise and make her look him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He gave her a sweet smile, trying to comfort her and convey that he was there for her although he was also afraid and the insecurities did not take long to reach her body. Many questions came to his brain.

She didn’t want him enough to have a child with him?, Didn’t she want to have a baby because she thought he would ruin her career? Would she think that if she was pregnant he would stop loving her because she was not thin? or worse, Did she don’t want to have a child with him because she was only using him as entertainment until Jiyong left the military service?, Would she ask for a divorce when that day comes?.

Her green eyes rested sadly on his, they were watery. "I can’t give you children, Mino. There is very little chance that I would get pregnant, almost nil"

"What?" Mino didn’t understand anything, why could not a girl like her have children? She loved children!

"When I was eighteen, I got pregnant by mistake but Jiyong and I were happy, how couldn’t we? We were in love, we had the job of our dreams and we were going to have a child, the perfect life was getting closer but apparently being parents didn’t fit into the destiny's plans so it tried to erase the error” She took a breath of air causing Mino to squeeze her hand because hers were trembling non-stop. She swallowed and continued "One day Tian and I were in the car, I had a concert here in Seoul and I decided to tell him that I would be a mom because he was like a father to me and still nobody knew, I wanted him to be the first to know, I was happy to finally tell someone the secret but Tian was not very happy about it. From the beginning he didn’t support my relationship with Jiyong, as any father would, but he learned to live with it, of course pregnancy was something else, he began to tell me it was stupid, a risk too big for my career, that I was very young and that both I and baby would suffer because Jiyong wouldn’t be long with us, we argued very hard and I had a stress attack that caused me to have an abortion, I lost a lot of blood and they had to operate on me. It turns out that something was bad insidet there and the doctor told me that thanks to abortion there was very little chance that I could conceive children in the future ".

By the time she finished speaking, she was in a mess, she was crying non-stop, her eyes looked like waterfalls, she was shaking and it seemed like she was not breathing. Mino approached her so that she would sit on his lap and hug her, kissed her shoulder to give her moral support.

"How long were you when it happened?" He muttered almost distressed, it felt strange to talk about a son who could be here scampering but that was not his but Kwon Jiyong's.

"I had just turned a month." She shivered in his arms, making him tighten her grip on her and place the blanket she wore earlier around her shoulders better. Shee looked into his eyes "You can’t tell how much it hurt to wake up from the operation and see Jiyong crying next to my bed, hugging my arm. The happiness that had lit up his face when I told him I was pregnant had turned into a heavy, dark shadow of pain and grief. When I was pregnant he looked at me as if I were some kind of goddess who was giving him the greatest of gifts and, you don’t know how much I would like to see that look on you Mino, but I can’t, I'm sorry” Finally she let out a sob, she hid her face in his neck and her hand made a fist around the fabric of the shirt he was wearing. The boy could feel the tears wet his shirt but it didn’t matter to him but he pressed her harder against his body and kissed repeatedly the skin of her shoulder.

"It's okay, babe. It's okay, I can settle for Johnny and you. We are the perfect family of three, although we could give Johnny a friend, what do you think? "He smiled at a laugh choking a sob, at least she was laughing. He stroke her back carefully and they both stayed in that pose for several minutes, both without saying a word. Oh, what memories of there for 2015 in the new year.

"These days I've been this weird because next week ten years ago and it's going to be the first year for the anniversary without Jiyong, and it feels weird and bad because Jiyong is the only thing left of that memory and always, every year, we go to his grave to take flowers.” She broke the silence with his voice even more hoarse for having cried. Mino tightened his lips making them a thin line, feeling even more bad for her.

"He have a grave?"

"Yes, it was Jiyong's idea" She shrugged her shoulders away from his neck while wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, which was actually from Mino “He said we needed something to remind us that this had really happened, that pain would make us human again if at some point we lost ourselves. "

Mino gave a nod, knew that G Dragon and Red had a language that only they understood, they said a lot of deep things that might not make sense at that time but they knew their meaning one way or another. Their relationship was strange and too poetic.

"Can we go visit him? I'd like to go” He asked and Dara smiled before giving him a chaste kiss and hugging him by the neck as she thanked him again and again.

And so, half an hour later, they were in the cemetery looking at a stone grave surrounded by flowers and a dragon sculpted in the marble next to the initials 'K.R'. Mino frowned, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat while Dara stroked the stone and left a bouquet of flowers, as she had said on the way were sakuras, the typical flowers of Japan.

"K.R?" His scowl still frowned on one more "It's obvious that K is for Kwon, but what about the R?".

"Kwon Ryu, that was going to be his or hers name."

"Dragon in Japanese, of course" He let out a small laugh at the obviousness of the matter and Dara smiled at him from the ground.

"The dragon is something very powerful and precious. Jiyong name means dragon in Korea, my favorite animal is the dragon and that's why I have one tattooed on my back, I'm from Japan so Ryu was a good choice to be the name of our unborn child” She shrugged and got up, got rid of the snow that had stained her knees and entwined her arm with her husband's before smiling at the grave "Let's go home, it's beginning to snow very hard".

[bakugou-ou]

I know how you said you wouldn't do the bakugou angst part 2 but can your pretty please with a smol deku on top with a almight onesie on do a part 2. I've probably read it like 7 times. Pleaaaaassee consider it~💓💓 p.s you are a really good writer

You and literally 56 other anons, cause I’m assuming you’re all different people lol, have requested a part 2 to the Bakugou bet angst, so here it is. Part one can be found here! Also, asdfghjkl thank you, you’re too nice. I’m mediocre at best ;~; 《Part Three》

I originally really didn’t want to do this, but the idea of having Baks with his mom got to me, and I felt bad about being so inactive on here… And then I was like, fuck it, I love Masaru too, I want both of his parents comforting him.

It’s less angsty, and more parenting fluff/comfort, but there’s not really a happy ending in this for my main boy. I hope you enjoy this! I may do a part three if people want to see the former couple interacting, but I can tell you right now that it won’t be a happy ending where everything is fixed and they get back together, it wouldn’t feel right, and I love inflicting pain on my favorite son; 2,667 words of Bakugou and his parents going through his first heartbreak, oh boy.

Mitsuki Bakugou arrived at UA half an hour after getting offthe phone with her distraught son Katsuki. He’d called her twice, begging herto hurry up because he was having a hard time trying to keep his shit together.She loved her son, but everyone went through heartbreak at some point in theirlife, and it was his turn that day. She had called her husband, Masaru, andtold him to come home from work early so that they could be there for theirson, and she had called the school to tell them she was taking her son home forthe day and that he’d be back in time for classes the following day. She neededto take care of her son, he couldn’t be left there like that, not until he’dfigured everything out.

When she pulled up by the school, Katsuki was standinginside the school gates, accompanied by Kirishima, his best friend. She rolleddown the window of the car and leaned out, “Katsuki! Let’s go!”

Katsuki was relieved to see his mother, but it also sentanother wave of agony through him as Kirishima started to walk him to the car.He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and bit down hard on his lip to keephimself from crying, trying not to seem like such fucking baby in front of hismother or his best friend. He was thankful for Kirishima walking him outthough, knowing that what had happened in the kitchen wasn’t his fault, Kirishima had been defending the relationship andhis feelings for his— no, not girlfriend, not anymore; ex-girlfriend. He rippedthe rear driver’s side door open and fell into the backseat, unable to look atKirishima or his mother.

“Thank you for walking him out, Kirishima-kun.” Mitsuki saidsweetly to the redhaired boy.

“No problem, Ma’am.” Kirishima replied, smilinglyapologetically to her before turning his attention to Katsuki, “It’s gonna beokay, Bakugou, you’ll figure this out.”

Kirishima made sure his friend was all the way in the carbefore shutting the door, and he stood watch as the car pulled away from the curband headed to wherever they were going.

Almost as soon as Kirishima had shut the door and he had puthis seatbelt on, Katsuki was doubled over in his seat, crying again. It waspathetic, he was back to a sniveling mess just as soon as he’d come out ofbeing one. He’d only managed to put himself together long enough to hear Kirishimaproperly explain the Baku Squad’s side of things, and to leave the dormitory.It had been easy to leave, he wanted to leave, he needed to get out of there,and she wasn’t around, holed up inher own room, so that made it easier to get away.

“So, you wanna give me a quick rundown of what happened, ordo you wanna wait until we get home?” Mitsuki asked her son, though she figuredit would probably be the latter, “Your dad is on his way home, too.”

“You told the Old Man too?” Katsuki asked, groaning as hisfingers found their way into his ash blond locks, gripping horribly tight ontohimself.

“We’re your parents, we’re worried about you. And you’re amess.” Mitsuki responded, glancing back in the rear view mirror and seeing herson crumpled up with his hands pulling at his hair, “Tell you what, I’ll makeakaton miso ramen and you can have as much of it as you want, I’ll even makethose spicy croquet you like so much. It’s been a while since you’ve been home…”

Katsuki was, apart from the sobbing, silent for the rest of theride back to his family home; it had been months since the last time he’d beenhome for more than an hour or two, and this was not the ideal circumstance tobe back under. His father got home before the two of them did, and was waitingat the front door for them when they walked up. Katsuki knew better than toslam the car door, his mother would yell at him about not breaking shit thatdidn’t belong to him, so he closed it with the most normal amount of force hecould manage before stomping off into the house, past his father who ruffledhis hair. The two adults lingered in the doorway and whispered something toeach other, something he didn’t hear nor cared to hear, and then followed himin. He threw himself down on couch that faced the front door, where his fatherhad already left him a large bottle of water.

Mitsuki finished cooking the meal that Masaru had started,with him staying in the living room with their son to keep an eye on him.Katsuki stopped crying, at least until lunch was ready, but then he went andlooked at his phone, it had gone off with another text from her, even worse than the other one he’dgotten while still in the dormitory, locked in his room; now everyone is mad at me!Fuck you, you didn’t even like me, and now you’re trying to make me look like the bad guy?! You’re theone who’s shit here, Bakugou, you’re the one who asked me out with no intentionof ever liking me back! God, you’re the worst! Some fucking hero you are.

With that, his phone was chucked hard at the ground, thescreen cracking as it hit the wooden floor and skidded a couple of feet to thekitchen entrance. Masaru leaned down and grabbed the phone, looking over thetext message that had just sent his son into another sobbing fit. He didn’tlike this girl, not with the way she was talking to him. Maybe that was justhim being a parent, being biased towards his son, but she sounded nasty, and itwas probably for the best that they’d broken up that early on, but it was awfulto see Katsuki torn up like that. He scrolled up and saw the first message, theone where she dumped him. It was long, angry, full of things that were very,very low blows, that he knew would get far too deep under his son’s skin,especially coming from this girl. A girl he’d been looking forward tointroducing to them, that he’d told them all about. They knew how much he lovedher, even if he’d gone about it in a very strange, somewhat poor way.

Masaru sighed, putting the phone down on the coffee tablebefore sitting down on the couch next to his son and putting his arm over hisshoulders. He brought Katsuki close to him, rubbing his arm and letting Katsukilean into him. Normally Katsuki only ever let his mother comfort him like that,but in that moment, it didn’t matter which parent tried to make him feelbetter, he just needed help. So, his father soothed him as his mother watchedfrom the kitchen doorway, looking at the two of them, such different peoplefrom each other despite the smaller one being half of herself and the otherone. A few minutes later, they moved into the kitchen, and Katsuki ate what hecould in silence, enjoying his mother’s cooking for the first time in twomonths. His head was splitting from all the crying, he was dehydrated, and hewas exhausted.

“So, Kid, let’s talk about this.” Mitsuki said as Katsukiset his empty bowl down on the table and wiped his mouth with his forearm. Shedidn’t bother scolding him about his manners, not with him in as fragile acondition as he was in, “What happened?”

“Kirishima said that everyone was in the kitchen talkingabout us, and how everything had turned out great… I didn’t like her at first,it was a stupid bet, but I ended up reallyliking her… So that’s when I decided to actually ask her out, cause I likedher, and everything’s been great, but she only heard the part about it being abet,” Katsuki began, putting his face in his hands and letting out a groan ofdispleasure, “Of course she wouldn’t fucking listen to me, she was pissed, andthat’s fine, I’d be pissed too if I were in her shoes, but she wouldn’t even talkto me about shit, wouldn’t even let me explain…”

Mitsuki got out of her seat and walked to her son, putting ahand gently on his spiky blond hair, petting him and letting him lean into heras he tried to continue explaining the situation without crying again. Neitherof his parents wanted to tell him how stupid that sort of thing was, but theyboth knew how sincere he was about his feelings, they knew this wasn’t just himbeing upset he’d been caught doing something stupid, he was genuinelyheartbroken. He couldn’t keep himself from crying as he continued.

“She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t talk to me, she said she wished she’d never met me, that I was theworst thing that… Ever happened to her!” He inhaled sharply after saying that,his lip quivering as he tried to stop himself from sobbing outright, “I wentback to my room, a-and I fucking cried, a ton, and then she… She dumped me, ina fucking text! And she… Said allsorts of really awful shit, and… I don’t wanna go back, Mom, don’t make me goback!”

Katsuki broke down, clinging to his mother and crying intoher stomach as she hugged him back; the last time they’d seen him like this waswhen he got back from being kidnapped by the League of Villains, and even then,he kept it to himself, waiting until he was alone in his room, refusing toshare the burden of his feelings with them. He was learning and growing, theyknew it, and they appreciated him opening up, even if it was because everythingwas just too much for him to bear on his own that afternoon.

Masaru left the two of them to retrieve the phone and showMitsuki the text messages that Katsuki had been talking, and once she was donereading, she knelt in front of her son and took his puffy, reddened,tear-stained face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes.

“Do you really like that girl?” She asked, to which heresponded with a nod and a choked sob, “Do you want to be with her still?”

The question hit him hard; did he? She’d said some reallyfucked up shit, stuff that was totally uncalled for in his opinion. And he knewshe was mad, that’s why she’d said it, but she kept laying it on, piling theinsults higher and higher, and then there was the most recent message. Hereally liked her, but she was hurting him so damn bad. He knew she felt likeshit, but he wouldn’t have ever talked to her the way she talked to him, evenwith as pissed off as he could be. She had been his girlfriend, he would nevertalk to her like that…

“I-I don’t know…” He mumbled, blinking to clear his eyes ofsome tears that had formed, “She hates me.”

“Maybe she does, but do you wanna be with someone who talksto you like that, and turns your biggest insecurities on you like that?”Mitsuki asked, brushing the spikes framing his face behind his ear, lookinginto those distressed crimson eyes that had come from her. “You’re not perfect,you’ve made a lot of mistakes, but you’re my son, and I don’t want you bendingyourself this far out of shape over someone who clearly has no control overtheir emotions. You already have enough of a problem with that on your own, youdon’t need a psycho girlfriend.”

Masaru disagreed slightly with his wife’s analysis of thesituation, but he wasn’t going to say anything; he did, however, agree with herthat their son shouldn’t hope for this relationship to work out, especially ifshe talked like that. The girl seemed to be the type that purposefully lookedfor flaws and brought them out to hurt people when they were at their worst formaximum damage. Katsuki was already a relatively unstable person as it was, hedidn’t need to deal with someone else’s issues at the same time.

“But I really like her! I was… I was really happy!” Katsuki objected, crying harder.

“You fucked up, Kid, and she showed her true colors. It’snot a good spot for either of you, I think you should both part ways. That’sthis Old Bat’s opinion, as someone who has been where you are quite a fewtimes, and been where she is a few times too.” Mitsuki responded, wiping awayhis tears with her thumbs, “You’re gonna keep making mistakes and learning, andyou’ve got your whole life ahead of you to date other people, she’s not the onlyperson out there. Someday you’re gonna find someone that’s not going to tearyou down when you do something that upsets them, that is gonna believe that youreally do love them. You’ll find someone that’s for you like Dad is for me,Katsuki, it’s not the end of the world, even if it feels like it right now.”

Katsuki listened to everything she said, knowing she wasright, but it didn’t make him feel any better; both his parents knew that itwouldn’t, but they needed to tell him anyway.

“T-Thanks, Baba…” Katsuki mumbled, hugging her as his fatherwalked over and rubbed his back.

“For what it’s worth, I agree with your mom on most of that.The choice is up to you, but it’s probably for the best if you and that girl goseparate ways.” Masaru said quietly.

Katsuki continued to cry into his mother’s shoulder; itreally was shit, he hated it, he didn’t want to go back to school and have todeal with her. Not yet. Fortunately for him, though, he was staying overnightat home. He had the whole night to spend with his parents, or by himself, doingwhatever he wanted, and he’d go back to the school in the morning, after havingsome time to calm down and rest…  But,first, he needed a new phone, since the other one was broken.

Masaru took the phone to the nearest shop and got it swappedfor a newer, nicer model from the same line, one that Katsuki had been savingup for, and made sure that all of his data got switched over to the new phone.Katsuki spent a lot of time going through and deleting things that reminded himof her, like their texts, and pictures he had of her. He changed his phonebackground from her to a picture of the view from the beach park nearest wherehe lived. It was a nice shot, it complimented the color of his new phone.

He spent most of his time alone in his bedroom that night,napping off all the emotions he’d spent, and coming down to have dinner withhis parents, who did a great job of keeping him distracted by talking abouttheir jobs. He liked hearing about their work, even if he had no interest ingoing into it. After dinner, the three of them settled onto the couch in theliving room for a family movie night, they watched several movies, all of whichKatsuki picked, and all three of them fell asleep together on the couch.Katsuki’s head rested on his mother’s chest, his legs draped over his father’slap; it was like he was a little kid again, only much, much larger than he hadbeen the last time they’d all been like that. His parents were glad that hewas, for the time being, okay. The second he needed them again, they’d be rightthere; that’s what parents are for.

[libulanns]

Y’all mind if I .... write about some traumatic moments throughout my life in excessive detail 👀 I’ve never written about this before. I just want to get it out. I won’t post about it again and might delete later. I’m tagging this ptsd. 

At age 3, I would get up at night and leave the house, wandering the neighborhood alone. My parents would not notice and come looking for me until morning. At age 4, I would be sat in front of a television in a dark room all day. I was totally alone until my Dad got home from work or sister got off of school.  At age 5, my mother would abandon my sister and I in public places. Random strangers would find us and start a search party to return us back to her. My Mom would take me with her to my Dad’s friends’ houses while he worked. I would hear them loudly having sex. Mom constantly told me we were running out of money and going to end up on the streets. I started obsessing over the way my clothes felt on my body and what foods were okay to eat. My parents thought I was being a brat. Believe it or not, I had my first panic attack over ketchup being on some food I was given to eat. I began having intrusive thoughts & nightmares of my parents throwing me out of a moving vehicle for some reason lol.  At age 6, I watched my mother threaten to slit her wrists and kill herself. She chased my sister and I around the house. My sister tried to throw her pills away because they were making our Mom crazy. My mom responded by throwing a glass vase the size of my sister at her. She shut the door in time not to be hit and wrote a sign to hold out of our bedroom window begging people passing by to save her. I was scared so I left the house and wandered the neighborhood by myself again. At age 7, my parents separated. My Mom took me from my Dad. I watched my aunt slit her wrists. I was constantly exposed to my Mom, Aunt, and Uncles high on marijuana, a cocktail of pills, and drunk. They are all angry drunks. I watched my Uncle put all of my sister’s barbies on the grill outside and melt them. My Mom told me about everything that went wrong in her marriage to my Dad. My Aunts and Uncles lined my cousins, sister, and I up to beat us with the belt one by one. We never had enough to eat because they spent all their money on drugs, alcohol, and gambling. We mostly ate ramen noodles. My sister constantly told me I was worthless (projecting her feelings onto me). I stopped talking to kids at school. I’d start having weeks at a time where I barely said a word and nobody noticed. I wished I was dead.  At age 8, I constantly missed school because my mother would be too tired to take me and the school bus didn’t come to my neighborhood. I lived in a one bedroom, roach-infested apartment that was not wired properly (if you touched the stove and fridge at the same time, you’d get electrocuted). Five people lived there at once. I slept on the floor and was terrified of roaches crawling all over me at night. My mom would leave me alone for weeks at a time without telling me where she was going or when she’d come back. She tried to get me to live with her boyfriend eventually; half of the house did not have electricity. The bathroom in the room they had me sleep in was infested with mosquitos. There was no running water and my Mom bathed me with a bucket from the hose outside. Roaches would crawl on me at night there, too. They had a fight and she tried to leave but he locked us in the house. She told me she was terrified he was going to hurt us and worked out a plan for me to jump over the outside gate, run to someone, and ask them to call the police. She started driving me around the city while she was drunk. We came so close to hitting cars and causing huge accidents. I screamed bloody murder. I rolled the window down and screamed for somebody to help me. I thought I was going to die.  At age 12, I missed almost the entirety of seventh grade because I was too afraid to leave my baby brother home alone. My Mom constantly left for days at a time without contacting me. We constantly ran out of food. I watched my Aunt destroy things and threaten to kill herself. I watched my Uncle beat my cousin black and blue. My Mom let me go on a diet to lose weight, because I was overweight from eating garbage all the time. I ended up having a kidney stone. My Mom was afraid of the cost of the ambulance, so she accused me of exaggerating and faking my pain for hours before my Uncle finally called one. The doctors did not give me any pain medicine for hours because they assumed I was pregnant. The kidney stone was 2 cm shy of needing to be surgically removed. My Mom got drunk and told me she was going to send me away, threw all of my things in a suitcase, and chased me outside. I was terrified and wanted to get away from her. She chased me all the way down the street to the park but she left when she saw other people were watching.  At age 13, I lived with my Dad. His wife emotionally abused me. She shamed me for my period, and constantly told me I stunk because I did not want to wear tampons and wore pads instead. She told me I was fat, ugly, creepy, and that I would die alone. She’d put things in the food she knew I was disgusted by so I wouldn’t have anything to eat. I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen to cook other things. She blamed me for the mess her sons made; I had to clean after both she and them. When I gave up and started staying in my room all day, she tried to force me to stay outside. They talked to me about their sex life in detail. I heard them loudly having sex frequently. I said I was disgusted by sex. They told me I would want sex one day soon. My Dad tried to forcibly put me on the birth control pill because he said he knew I would have sex soon. I begged my grandfather to tell him not to do it. His wife would get me drunk because she thought it was funny. I watched them scream and throw things at each other. My Dad would promise me he knew what she was doing to me and that he’d leave her soon, and then the next day, tell me he never said that. They separated. I started having nightly panic attacks. I told my grandparents what was happening and they said they couldn’t be sure it was really happening because they didn’t live with me. My step grandmother told me my Mom abandoned me. I started having memory problems. I couldn’t stand being touched or people being too close to me anymore. I began having intrusive thoughts about people poisoning me so I stopped eating and drinking anything anyone else made.  At age 15, my Dad would leave the house for weeks at a time and not tell me where he was. I’d have no way of contacting him. He did not buy me school supplies or clothes. He screamed at me whenever I asked. He called me a bitch all the time. He’d constantly be drunk, high, or both. He sold all the furniture in my room one by one to buy weed and fake urine. I had my first panic attack at school. I cut off all of my friends. I couldn’t talk to people anymore.  At age 16, I went back with my Mom. Her husband was a predator. He’d stand outside my bedroom window at night, watch me through the window in the bathroom, make sexually charged comments at me, and masturbate to porn in the bathroom. He did the same to my sister. He took the locks off of our bedroom doors, and broke them so they couldn’t close all the way. I started sleeping with a knife under my pillow. I started having worsening panic attacks at school. I stopped going to school. I stopped sleeping. I started obsessively locking the doors at night. He started taking my little brother in the bedroom with him and locking the door. I was terrified. I told my Mom and she said I just didn’t want her to be happy. My memory problems got worse; I could no longer remember entire years of my life. We never had anything to eat. I lost a lot of weight and got a vitamin deficiency. I frequently missed school because I obsessed over the way my clothes felt. I would take every single item of clothing I owned and throw it all on the floor and get into a fit of rage every morning before I gave up and put on my pajamas and got back in bed. I suddenly became totally irrationally mortified of roaches; every time I saw one, I would just scream until I went numb with pure terror. And then I somehow also became irrationally terrified of planes crashing into my house.  At age 17, I started therapy. My therapist diagnosed me with OCD and PTSD. She didn’t have the training to do ERPT with me so she just did talk therapy with me as though I had anxiety. It didn’t help much. I told her about what my Mom’s husband was doing to us and she told me it wasn’t normal. I told my Dad and he insisted I move back with him again. I was too afraid to stay in the same house with his wife again. She played nice and pretended nothing ever happened. My Dad said overtime, he had accepted that everything was his fault and she never did anything wrong. I had an ovarian cyst rupture and they refused to take me to the hospital. They told me it was just a “bad period” and gave me ginger snaps and xanax. I moved in with my grandparents. I still had intrusive thoughts of my family member who was driving the car just stopping and telling me to get out in a random place. It was something i actively feared every time I got in a car with someone.  At age 18, my compulsive checking behaviors were extreme and preventing me from doing much of anything. I couldn’t even read without doing it anymore. I was having three to four panic attacks per day. I had extreme insomnia. I kept trying to get help at the doctors. They gave me zoloft, which gave me suicide ideation. I confided in my Aunt and grandfather these thoughts. They screamed in my face, told me they hated me, that I was a worthless coward, and called the police on me. I was terrified and ran away from them. The police followed me. My step grandmother would get drunk and throw things at me. She would slam things around me and not speak to me for weeks. My Aunt did exactly the same thing. Every single person in my family mocked me for trying to talk about my mental problems with them. They constantly reminded me that they were doing me a favor by letting me live with them and if I was unhappy I could get the fuck out. I was constantly afraid they would kick me out. I stopped telling them anything that wasn’t mindless praise and constant pleasantries because I didn’t want them to have any reason to kick me out. My dad invited me over to his house one day and I got flashbacks. I had a panic attack and left. I stopped talking to him too. I gained weight. I start obsessively checking my rearview mirror when driving because I was terrified I was going to hit a pedestrian.  At age 19, I got into a relationship. He pressured me sexually, constantly. He constantly ignored me to talk to other people and do other things. He never put down his phone when we were together. He pressured me to bend to his whim on my most cherished beliefs. Everything was an argument/debate. He shamed me for criticizing anything he did. He gaslit me constantly. I started remembering many things I had forgotten. My panic attacks were far less frequent over time, but I noticed I wasn’t interested in doing anything anymore. I frequently found myself sitting and staring at the wall for hours. I started randomly sobbing violently and uncontrollably whenever I got in my car. I missed an important meeting at school because I was obsessing over my clothes and couldn’t leave the house again. I stopped cooking for my family because I was afraid I was going to poison them or make them sick due to improper cooking.  At age 21, my one Aunt who called the police on me apologized for it. She said she never should have done that. It was the first time any of the adults in my family had ever apologized to me for anything. I found out my boyfriend had been cheating on me for our entire relationship; he has dozens of accounts on secret social medias and dating sites and was actively speaking to other women and his ex all those times he ignored me. My sister was almost beaten by her partner at the time I found out. I was away from her and overwhelmed with fear that she would die. I still have frequent bouts of heavy sobbing that don’t seem to be related to anything. I have insomnia. I have flashbacks and panic attacks triggered by weird sensory things. I don’t have a relationship with my parents, grandparents, aunts, or uncles. I have no real life friends. I don’t speak to others often. I frequently self-isolate. I can feel fine one moment and the next I’m nonverbal and bawling my eyes out. I’m still terrified of roaches and I literally scream and duck onto the floor when planes fly too close overhead.  I’m going to be 22 soon. I’m not sure who I am outside of my trauma. I’m trying to stay positive. I’m writing this as I’m struggling with more insomnia. I don’t know who I am and most days feel joyless but you know what. I’m alive. I’m still here. I don’t have to be a victim anymore because I can fight back now. I’m not helpless anymore. I’m not dependent anymore. I will protect myself. This is what I tell myself. It makes me feel a little better. None of my symptoms have lessened at all but part of me feels better somehow. I know I need more therapy but don’t have any way of getting that atm. 

[groovy-hottub-llama]

Fatherhood, Pt.3

Pairing: KakaSaku (It’s kinda backgroundy/alluded to) Rating: Fluff Warnings: There’s a healthy dose of salt here, and child neglect but mostly the FLUFFIEST FLUFF. Sarada is an angry, slightly taller, ball of angst. This is also the longest ofhte chapters, and includes suggestions of S|S.

Additional note: This fic is not canon compliant. I’ll warn folk now, that I am not watching/reading the new ‘Boruto’ as it’s BS. <~ personal feelings here, each to their own and all that. The characters in this fic are portrayed loosely as from what I saw from the last chapter of Naruto and no further.

When the man people had called her father had returned everyone had expected her to be ecstatic, to be beyond joy. But the first thing the man did, as a wonderful follow up to trying to murder her in the woods upon their first meeting, was to request to personally instruct Naruto's son.

Instead of anger, she'd been relieved. This way, she could continue with her plan, the plan that had began all those years ago when she was twelve years old and sitting on a swing with advice from someone who really cared about her that didn't tell her what she should do because of her name, but gave her options because of who she was.

With Sasuke set on ignoring herself and her mother and instructing Boruto she felt confident enough to ask her mother to teach her how to be a medic. Sakura umm'd and ahh'd, and tried desperately to get her to ask her 'father' for training.

Sarada, who had been fed up with the term for as long as she could remember had blinked innocently and said,

"Kakashi-tou? I'm sure he'd have the time, but it's medicine I want to learn, and I don't think he has the knowledge to impart that I'm looking to gain."

Sakura had turned scarlet and stuttered terribly.

"G-go to your room young lady!"

She'd skipped off having made her point. If anyone was going to tell her to 'ask her father' ever again, she'd just refer the the Rokudaime, because in all honesty he was the one who'd been there when it counted, and he was still there when she needed him. When she got up to her room she dropped face down onto her bed and sighed loudly, the sheets muffling the sound. She thought about going to find him. If she asked, he'd very likely back her up. Everyone knew how stubborn her mother could be, but a part of her thought that he'd probably tell her that if it was something she really wanted, she'd have to do this for herself. She grumbled and kicked her feet in frustration.

She dragged a small medical journal out from under her pillow and worked her way through her mothers notes. The journal had been Sakura's when she had been 15 years old and already a firm apprentice of the Godaime. She loved granny Tsunade, and if her mother wouldn't teacher her, then maybe granny Tsunade could get her started? Or maybe Aunty Shizune?

She folded the book and huffed. There was a lot of stuff in there she didn't understand, but her mother had been three years older and had been apprenticed to granny Tsunade for at least three years by the time she'd filled the journal.

No. She wanted to learn from the best medic in Kohona who wasn't deservedly retired from her years of impressive service. She wanted to learn from her mother, from Sakura Haruno.

That man wasn't interested in teaching her, but her mother could.

Sarada sat up and steeled her resolve. No. It wasn't the time to sit on her bed and sulk, nor was she going to let her mother waste her time mooning after someone who didn't care for her time when Sarada was right here asking for it.

She got up and was about to tuck the journal away, but decided against it. Instead she clutched it to her chest and made her way back down stairs and waited cautiously by the kitchen door. Her mother was in the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs with her head in her hands.

"Mom?" She said quietly. Her mother shook her self off and turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry my love, come here." Sakura held open her arms and Sarada gladly went into her embrace. She giggled when Sakura squeezed a little too hard.

"Sorry, you're just so, so cute." Sarada laughed when her mother patted her cheeks, then she noticed the journal. She looked at Sarada questioningly and Sarada beamed and held her treasure up.

"I wasn't trying to be a pain, mom, I just want to be who I want to be." Her mother nodded and Sarada felt more confident.

"I don't want to fight people, or hurt them. I want to help them. Please teach me how?"

Whatever reply Sarada was expecting from her mother, was not the explosion of tears, or the stifling embrace.

"Oh darling, I know I've been distant lately, I'm sorry."

Sarada submitted to her mothers iron grasp with a smile.

'So, will you teach me?" She asked again, when her mother had finally released her grip. Sakura frowned, which Sarada recognised as one of the first signs of a 'no' coming on. She remembered the face that Aunt Ino taught her and turned it towards her mother with as much feeling as she could muster.

"Remember my young apprentice," Aunt Ino had crowed, "the pout on it's own is powerless without brimming tears or a flush to your cheeks. Your eyes have to been shining intensely, your lip turned just so and your skin only ever so slightly pink. Don't let the tears fall unless they're extremely resilient, at that point, back off, defeated. Then you let the tears come, show how deeply disappointed you are, but be contrite. Apologise to them for being such a nuisance and then REEL 'EM IN."

Sarada knew she was probably piling it on a bit thick with the wobbling lower lip too, but she really, really wanted this.

With a sigh her mother relented and Sarada beamed in pleasure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the Chuunin exams now had an age restriction of 17, Sarada had honestly felt cheated that she'd been stuck in what was now known as Team Trainwreck for the past five years. Boruto was more out of control than ever, and thanks to Sasuke Uchiha, now that idiot was a dangerous weapon with less direction than he had to begin with. Mitsuki conversely, had spent the last five years getting as much experience under his belt from as many jounin who would give him the time of day. They'd bonded. She might even dare call him a friend now.

She understood where he came from, they had similar 'father' issues, except Mitsuki's father issues were more along the lines of 'I will murder him, free his experiments and hunt down his followers so that his work will never blight our world again'. Hers was more 'ignore the man who sired her and make her disgust known for him at every available opportunity'.

Granted, that had been a lot easier and a lot more acceptable when, two years prior, Sakura had finally filed for divorce when Sasuke had cornered Sarara one day in the hospital during her practical training and asked her if she was going to continue with 'this pointless specialisation' and then had inquired as to how she felt about Boruto.

Sarada was horrified. Here she was, working hard on her dream towards becoming a medic as brilliant as her mother, as the brilliant as the Fifth Hokage herself, and there was her father. He wasn't there to finally show his support, or at the very least ask her how she was getting along with her choices.

No. He was there to check on her love life, assuming her availability, and not because he was concerned about her. He'd been concerned for Boruto's unrequited affections.

Sarada grimaced and had suddenly become overwhelmed with nausea. Why on earth was he so interested in her love life? He hadn't even been interested in his own!

Looking back she could admit that despite it all, when she'd seen her father in the hospital that day, without prompting from her mother, or in the company of Boruto, she'd thought he'd finally taken an interest her, in her life and choices. She thought that maybe, despite the animosity of the last few years he'd realised that he'd been remiss in avoiding her and favouring others.

To her shame, she'd even thought that if he was there to make amends, if he was there to finally be the father she had wanted him to be all those years ago, then maybe she could forgive him.

Instead she'd been sorely disappointed. His words had become a blur as she realised he had never come for her, he'd not cared enough about how she felt to even ask if she already had someone she was interested in. Sarada had dismissed him with a more intense dose of her usual scorn and had disappeared into one of the cleaning closets to have a good, long cry.

Her mother had discovered her missing and, not unlike her predecessor, had stormed around the hospital demanding to know why Sarada's shift had been covered by another medic. She'd found Sarada sobbing in a cupboard. At first, her mother had attributed it to the stress of working such a demanding role in the hospital for the first time, and had let her daughter know how disappointed she was that she hadn't stepped up to the mark like she'd expected her to.

Then Sarada had told her what happened and her mother had held her close in silence, rocking her gently and telling her that everything was going to be ok.

Sakura could endure a lot, she had endured a lot. But when her husband had tried to tell her daughter that her choices were wrong, and that he suddenly had an interest in arranging a marriage for her, when he hadn't so much as had dinner with them for the three years he'd been back in Konoha, then she drew the line.

And what a line she'd drawn.

Shizune had been called in to fill in for Sakura while she escorted her daughter to her parents house and then she'd headed out to look for her husband.

She'd found him in the main street eating ramen with Naruto and Boruto and had asked for a word. Sasuke had ignored her. Naruto caught the look on her face and put his bowl back down. He'd then snagged Boruto by his collar and dragged him off to give the couple their privacy.

"I'd like to discuss what you said to our daughter?" She asked in a controlled, brisk tone. Sasuke, unwisely had decided to reply.

"My daughter is-"

"-I'm going to stop you right there."

If he'd been surprised by her cutting him off he didn't show it; Sasuke had remained silent, and waited for her response with indifference. Sakura saw his indifference and blinked in disbelief.

"I asked you, what it was that you said to our daughter. Not yours, not mine, like she's a thing. So I'm going to ask you again, and I want you to talk to me like I'm your wife, Sasuke, not like you're giving me a mission report!"

Sasuke didn't so much as twitch, nor show any other reaction to her emotional pleas. Instead, just like before, he squared her with a blank stare and offered his explanation neutrally.

"I asked her when she was going to finish her temporary placement at the hospital, and when she'd be available to discuss a potential match."

For a long while Sakura just studied him. She looked for any possible change or shift that would belie his words as a joke, or a misunderstanding. There was none. It was just as her daughter had said. She took a steadying breath and ploughed on.

"What possessed you to think you had any right to start a marriage negotiation, of all things, without consulting me?"

Sakura had stared at him pleadingly. She hoped that even though her relationship with him was practically non-existent, he'd surely consider it from a logical point of view. She was Sarada's mother, she knew her personality. If Sasuke felt the need to arrange a marriage, then surely her input would be invaluable to helping Sarada find happiness. Sakura didn't know enough about the marriage practices of the Uchiha clan to question him. He had never spoken to her about any of the cultural history of his people so she had nothing to go on, but even with this in mind, she still respected that his clan was different to her family.

He sighed and regarded her with a cool stare, that at any other moment might have inspired Sakura to sigh wistfully and wonder at his handsome face. Any other moment was a long time in the past. Now when she regarded him, he seemed tired. Tired of her or life or just that day in particular she never knew, because she'd asked so many times before and he'd never answered her.

"I am her father, and the continuance of the Uchiha Line is my concern."

In her mind, Sakura completed the sentence 'and not yours'. Something froze inside her, and then shattered. Like an ebbing tide that had turned suddenly a wave of anger rose up and crashed down over her.

"Your concern?" Sakura suddenly spat. Sasuke's eyebrows raised in surprise. Good. Let him be surprised.

"Your concern ended the day she was born." She snarled it out, recalling the years she'd sat alone in a huge house with a crying child and no one there to share her burdens, "your concern? For the 'Uchiha Line?"

Sakura threw her head back and laughed bitterly.

"What's Sarada's favourite colour?"

"What's her favorite outfit?"

"What does she like to eat when she's having a bad day?"

"Who's her best friend?"

He remained silent and Sakura's heart clenched painfully for her daughter. She looked for one last shred of hope, in something she knew was important to the Uchiha, if only because she recalled his use of it in their Genin days together.

"Do you know that Sarada learned how to use the Gōkakyū no Jutsu?"

His attention perked up, but he was frowning.

"When did she learn that?"

Sakura was confused, surely he knew?

His frown remained and he asked her another, damning question.

"Where did she learn it?"

Sakura was silent. He really hadn't paid any attention to Sarada at all. Her shoulders dropped and she raised her hands to cover her face, holding in the grief that now she truly knew he'd not been there for Sarada.

"Who taught her that Sakura?" His tone was sharp, a reprimand.

Like he was speaking to a subordinate.

With sudden clarity she remembered who. She remembered who had been there. And not just for Sarada, but for her. On long nights after heart breaking shifts at the hospital, there'd be a hot meal waiting, even if there wasn't always the company. On days that brought tears to her eyes just recalling, when she'd missed her own daughters first day at the academy and worse still, her Genin graduation, he'd been there. Even just a month back, on Sarada's 15th birthday, he had come over, with a lopsided cake and a jutsu just for Sarada.

Sakura sniffled and looked at the man who was her husband in name only and grieved for a life she could have had and the sobering thought that he wasn't the only one to blame. What if she'd realised this sooner? The was so much regret, and yet no going back, no fixing it now.

"Does it matter?" She said instead.

Sasuke chose not to reply. He turned his back on her and walked away.

"I expect to see Sarada tomorrow morning in the third training ground."

Anger sparked in her, hot and savage.

"Don't you walk away from me Sasuke Uchiha, we are not finished talking."

He paused at her declaration, but shrugged and answered her flippantly.

"This conversation is over."

"No, Sasuke," Sakura finally broke, angry tears spilling down her cheeks, "this marriage is over."

In that moment Sakura hoped, with every shred of will in her body, that Sasuke would turn around, say something, anything. He did not. He merely walked away. Something twisted in Sakura at that moment. Maybe it'd been the nonchalance with which he'd regarded the end of their marriage, or the reminder that he yet again regarded her abilities as something he could turn his back on, she wasn't sure.

Before Sakura even realised what she was doing, chakra was flooding her system in a white hot rage and her fist was hitting the floor. The earth shuddered and split leaving a great chasm starting at her feet and ending several meters after Sasukes.

According to witnesses, it took him an hour to work his way out of the chasm, having been caught by the jagged edge of a rock halfway down the chasm in such a way that he was unable to get purchase on the rock with his one remaining hand.

That evening she'd filed the divorce papers and by morning she was a Haruno once more.

That crack was still in the main street of the village to date from where Sarada's mother had finally put her foot down. Someone had thought it a fun idea to fill it with a transparent, yet hard substance from Suna, immortalising Sakura's righteous anger.

Sarada walked along it every day. It'd become quite the tourist attraction.

Well pleased, Sarada had been known as 'Sarada Haruno' not long after the divorce papers had been signed. She'd been so overjoyed she'd cried. It finally felt like she was free of him. Chou Chou helped her celebrate the moment by taking her back to her mothers where Karui had winked at her conspirationally and pulled out a series of bottles.

"Let's celebrate with a bang, eh doll?" She'd grinned, and Chou Chou had cheered and picked out a bottle.

"Girl you are gonna look ah-may-ZING."

Sakura had nearly had a heart attack when Sarada had walked in that evening with pastel pink hair and grin stretching from ear to ear, but she hadn't complained, nor had she told her to change it back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today was her chunnin exam, and, just as the Kaka-tou had said, she'd survived. If she passed here, she could leave the team and truly go her own way. She walked into the great hall, found her ID number on the chair and sat down confidently. She had this, no problem.

Except.

"Hey. Sarada! Hey!"

This was NOT happening.

"Psst! Hey, guess who."

Sarada firmly kept her mouth shut. Exam conditions were in place the moment they'd stepped in here. She raised her hand and an invigilator with a senbon held just-so in his teeth stepped over. She kept a straight face, but her heart leapt when she saw who it was.

"Is there a problem, Miss Haruno?" Genma asked quietly. Sarada shot through a series of handsigns, in a language she'd learned under a desk when she was seven years old, and had continued to learn over the family dinner table. He raised his eyebrows, but that was the extent of his surprise.

Genma then took up a stance behind Boruto's chair and leaned down to remind him what the rules were in the exam hall and Sarada listened to the following silence with deep appreciation.

Kaka-tou to the rescue again.

The exam paper was a breeze, so much so that she had it finished with time to spare. Just as she picked it up to read through her answers again, a small ball of paper hit her in the back of the neck.

Oh he was not doing this now. Not when she had to check she'd got things right, not when she might have time to catch a disaster on her paper and fix it. No way.

Another hit her and landed on the table.

She pointedly ignored it. Not even to flick it off the table.

Then she realised if she was caught with it on there, and it had anything on it, she risked being disqualified. She covered it with a hand just as Genma breezed past. She swallowed. That'd been close.

She waited a moment, lifted her pen up and used the flat reflective surface of the clip on her pen to discern where both Genma was and what Boruto was up to. He was busily rolling up another note, so she flicked the other one back onto his desk discreetly.

He noticed and looked up at her with a grin. She rolled her eyes. He had noticed the pen. She twirled it as though in thought when another invigilator walked past.

Boruto eagerly opened up the note, to find nothing but his own words. He frowned, then glared back up at her and made eye contact with her using her pens clip, mouthing obscenities and asking why she wouldn't help him.

With a quick glance around she grinned viciously.

For a moment she thought that maybe it was a bad idea, after all, she'd want a fair chance at doing this, he should be given the benefit of the doubt too.

But then she remembered five long years of Team Trainwreck.

Team Trainwreck who had assumed she'd always make lunch for missions.

Or Konohamaru-Sensei who had told her that days training had been cancelled because her team mates were doing 'independent study'.

Or Boruto who expected her to patch him after every stupid mistake, and then complained when she was too exhausted to keep up on the trip home.

Nope.

Time for vengeance.

She caught his eye for a single moment, with a slow and sinister red eye. Tomoe span lazily and Boruto stared into space for the rest of the exam.

She nodded and offered up another mental 'thanks' to Kaka-tou.

With a glance up at the clock she noted she had just enough time to read through quickly so she returned to her paper and started re-reading it. With a frown she realised she'd done one of the trajectory of projectile weapons questions wrong and scribbled away furiously to correct it. By the time she'd finished re-calculating she'd ran out of time to check the rest of the paper, but felt confident enough that she'd pass this stage.

The invigilators called the end of the exam and a groan echoed around the room.

Sarada rolled her eyes, part of the chuunin written exam was time management, if they couldn't get their timing right in a controlled environment, how could they prove they were capable of doing it in the field?

Genma raised a hand and the rows began to stand, leaving their papers on their tables with their name, number and team on the front sheet. She made a point of keeping her eyes on her paper as she rose, moved away and left, because Boruto had managed to snap out of the genjutsu and was glaring at her with serious venom. She wouldn't have put it past him to try and switch them as he passed by. More fool him if he did though, as she'd had the foresight to write her name and number on every page.

When he didn't and he just kept coming for her she ducked into the crowd, hunted around and ended up grasping onto a familiar manicured hand.

"Hey Sarry! That exam was hard! I need a drink, wanna join me? 'Course you do!"

Sarada beamed as Chou chou held out an arm and marched her way through the crowd that parted like she owned the place. They passed out of the academy grounds and moved down towards the main street. On their way Chou chou caught sight of her mother and father walking down the road hand in hand. Chou chou turned and winked at her and then bellowed out-

"Treat your wife, Daddy!"

Several heads turned, including her parents who laughed and looked at one another. Chouji leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Karui's smiling cheek and the two carried on. Chou chou pointed at the two of them with her thumb.

"Relationship goals right there."

"Yeah, you're really lucky Chou chou." Sarada said wistfully.

"Nope, they're really lucky. I'll be that lucky when I find my someone." Chou chou turned to her and then glanced over her shoulder at the crowds.

"Still looking?" Sarada turned around herself, expecting someone to pop out of no where and make their way over. Chou chou shrugged and tugged her back into walking.

"It is fate, Sarry, it'll happen when it happens. You can't force love."

Sarada turned to her with a self-depreciating smile.

"At least you have a good example."

Chou chou raised a delicate eyebrow and frowned. She made to open her mouth but then decided to hold onto what she was thinking as they'd made it to Yakiniku Q and when the owner waved them in she all but dragged Sarada over to the corner and dumped her down in a seat before taking her own.

The brown haired girl waved to the owner and indicated with two fingers their order then turned to her friend and fixed her with a bored look.

"Sarada, your parents suck."

Sarada glowered and made to defend her mother but Chou chou held up a hand.

"Your dad's selfish and your mom spent a lot of her time catering to that. There was no give and all take."

Sarada slumped back.

"I know, you don't have to tell me twice." She leaned back and slumped in the seat, staring at the ceiling and wishing it'd fall on her head. Maybe it'd give her amnesia and she could conveniently forget about having a deadbeat for a biological parent.

Chou chou smacked the table with her hand to get Sarada to focus on her again.

"Your parents are an excellent example of what not to do in a relationship. Also, your mom is a perfect example of getting her fine self back out there."

Sarada laughed and then groaned, covering her face to hide her embarrassment.

Her friend grinned and turned to take their order from the waitress who'd brought over two large trays. The waitress then hurried off to collect the rest of the order and returned with a large jug of juice and two tall glasses.

Chou chou busied herself with picking up the meat with her own pair of chopsticks that she pulled from seemingly no where, and flicked the choice cuts onto the hotplate with practiced ease. Grudgingly she also added a few vegetables and then turned her attention back to her friend.

"Your mom might have made some poor decisions when it came to love, Sarry, but she got it right in the end."

Sarada grinned fondly and thought that maybe, just maybe there might be a little hope for her too.

"Thanks Cho, I mean it."

Chou chou turned the meat over and smirked.

"I know you do," she paused and then smirked at her, "and what am I?"

Sarada laughed and answered honestly "the best damn friend I'll ever have."

The taller girl chuckled and began to fill her plate. Sarada followed suit after Chou chou had chosen hers and then poured herself and her friend a drink. They toasted each other and then downed their glasses whole, keeping their eyes locked.

Sarada gasped and couldn't finish her drink and put it back on the table half finished. Chou chou placed her glass back on the table gently and flicked her hair.

"Undisputed champion."

Sarada raised her glass.

"I'll drink to that!"

Sarada picked up her first bite and just put it in her mouth when Boruto stormed into the restaurant and almost made her choke on her food.

"Hey! You cost me the exam!"

Sarada turned a disgusted glare his way.

"If something so simple could make you fail your exam, then you aren't ready to be a chunnin. I did you a favour."

Chou chou's face bunched up in surprised glee.

"You can't be serious!" She giggled at Boruto, who was turning red in the face. "That test wasn't hard at all!"

Sarada held up a fist and Chou chou bumped it.

"We slayed it." They said together and flashed a peace sign each at the blond.

"What is your problem Sarada? We're on the same team!" Boruto yelled. Other customers glared or rolled their eyes. The waitress nervously approached.

"Oh!" Sarada feigned surprise. "I'm part of the team now am I?"

Boruto groaned and pointed at her.

"Look just because your dad wanted to train me instead of you it's not my fault."

The pink haired young woman examined her nails and presented them to her friend, who made a noise of approval.

"Are you listening to me!?" Boruto demanded, "you're on my team, so when the exams come you're supposed to help me, not screw me over!"

Sarada stood up and walked over to him, then she jabbed a chakra laced finger into his chest. He stumbled back a few paces and looked for all the world like he had no idea what he'd done to deserve such treatment.

"The old chuunin exams were like that. You were supposed to cheat. The New Chuunin exams are next level. If you can't do it by yourself, then you aren't safe to be out in the field-"

"-I'm strong! Of course I'm fine in the field, you know I am, you've seen me."

Sarada stalked forward and raised the same finger again threateningly, the waitress looked relieved as Sarada followed Boruto's retreat out of the restaurant.

"Fine in the field?" She spat, oblivious to the crowd that was growing around them, "I spent most of our Genin years patching up your sorry ass for NO THANKS. And you have the nerve to tell me I should be helping you? When did you help me?"

Boruto stood up to his full height and towered over Sarada, glaring down at her. Chou chou took up a prime spot on the sidelines and held a slice of grilled beef on the tips of her chopsticks.

"Not all of us were blessed with our fathers gifts, some of us had to work for it." He sneered. The beef dropped back into the bowl and Chou chou shook her head at the blond youth.

"Wrong thing to say there golden boy." Chou chou muttered in warning.

Sarada smiled and Boruto instinctively stepped back.

"My biological father," she took a step forward to close the gap, "gave my mother nothing but the genetic material required to fertilise the egg that became me." Boruto grimaced at the description and unwillingly took another step back.

"Sasuke Uchiha wouldn't know what a father was, if his own father crawled out of his grave and disowned him for being a disgraceful parent," she continued, rage guiding her steps.

"The only father I've got, the only one I acknowledge, is proud of me, not because I have an Uchiha's eyes," she caught up to him before he could back away, snarling her fingers into the fabric of his orange and black armored vest, "but because I decided to follow in the footsteps of a person far more impressive than the ghosts of a clan long dead," Sarada yanked him down to her eye-level with a snap of her wrist.

"So don't you ever say I haven't worked damn hard to be damned good at what I do, because every step of the way I've been told I should be an Uchiha, when I'm a GOD DAMNED HARUNO."

With that she released him and raised a delicate gloved hand and flicked him squarely in the centre of the leaf of his hitai-ate and left him flat on his ass in the street. With a sharp turn of the heel she marched back into Yakiniku Q and sat back at their table. Chou chou followed and sat down, nodded her approval of Sarada's win and took up her bowl again for another serving.

"So," Chou chou began, after she'd finished her bowl in the stewing silence of Sarada's anger, "wanna go back to my mom's for a pedicure?"

Sarada leaned to the side and glanced at her toes that she wiggled at herself thoughtfully.

"Or," she added conspirationally, "We could go and watch Kouta and Mitsuki spar down on field 2 again?"

She laughed and poked her friend, giving her a sly look.

"I know you just want to brush Aomaru."

The taller girl huffed and then looked hopeful.

"Do you think he'd let me? Oh he's got the most beautiful coat of any dog I've ever seen, and he's got such blue eyes. Do you think Kouta will miss him?" Chou chou glanced at Sarada with a grin, Sarada, noticing the quirk at the corner of her friends painted lips sighed with the knowledge they were going on another odd adventure.

Both girls put up their hands for the bill and then laughed at each other. The waitress stepped over with a small book to sign instead and Chou chou snatched it before Sarada with a cry of triumph.

"Todays on me skinny!" She said, signing in the Akimichi Tab with a flourish. "Let's go steal me a pooch!"

Sarada grinned. Whatever the outcome of the exam, she was glad she'd made it this far, and even if she spent the rest of her days between the hospital and trying to steal dogs with Chou chou, she'd not change it for the world.

[juniperhillpatient]

Be Careful who you make friends with on Tumblr ~Creepypasta~

Listen to it with creepy sound effects and images included HERE 

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  The last time I used Tumblr I was a sophomore in high school and Tumblr was my escape from the world in which I was a socially anxious, overweight girl with freckles and oversized glasses. On the blue screen with a username of my choice I could be as loud and crass as I wanted. I could talk about horror movies, metal music, and serial killers with those who shared my passion for the bizarre and terrible, without the sideways glances that said: “What a creep she is, she wastes her life daydreaming of death.”  

I deleted the app and never looked back when I began dating a cheerleader and was accepted into a semi cool group of friends early in eleventh grade.

        Four years of college later I was living in Columbus working at the Center for Science and Industry. The catch was that the job was in the gift shop, as a cashier. My relationships with my coworkers didn’t extend beyond a friendly nod or wave, except perhaps Sarah who worked in public outreach and sometimes at lunch with me.

        I knew what everyone back home in Cincinnati would say if they knew where I had ended up. I could hear the echo of my relatives and high school friends saying “Olivia dear we did warn you a degree in liberal arts wouldn’t get you very far.”

Stubborn as always, I had added on my Facebook page that I worked at Cosi, but not which department. It was a vague, half lie. I hoped people pictured me living in a nice apartment with lots of friends having wine tastings and talking about how posh we all were for working at such a prestigious institute.

        I lived in a studio apartment. The electric and water were turned off on a regular basis. I’d be damned if anyone at home ever found out the truth of my pathetic existence.  

If I had to see my high school girlfriend Karen’s coy look of faux sympathy as she listened to me talk about my electric being shut off, I would hope for her fancy stereo to fall in the bath with her as she sat sipping her expensive wine. If I had to witness the slow shaking of my parent’s heads, I might just go insane and rip their lungs out.  

        It was as I lay on my tiny mattress without a frame listening to the scurrying of rats in the walls that I opened my lap top and typed in Tumblr.Com. I wanted back into the community of weirdos on the blue website often referred to by its tired users as a hellsite because of the millions of bots, viruses, and uneducated opinions that populated the forums.

        I recreated my blog with the same username I had used in high school, liv-firefly. After following several blogs, I settled to scrolling my dash and reblogging facts about Ted Bundy and images of my favorite scream queens from eighties slashers. I was excited when the notification popped up that someone had followed me.

My heart sank when I checked the blog’s username. It was just a bunch of random numbers and letters. A bot, most likely, I thought. Still, half hopeful that I might make a friend, I clicked on their blog.

        As the site redirected, I jumped a little when sound began blasting. I hurried to turn down my volume, cringing as I remembered that some people set up their themes to play music when you clicked their blog. Well, I thought, at least that’s a good indication they aren’t a bot.

        The music itself sounded nothing like anything I had ever heard before. It wasn’t a genre I could place. In fact, it was more like an uncomfortable buzzing sound. I supposed it was probably some weird indie shit the user was into. Once my volume was down to only one notch, I began scrolling the blog.

        The user had a title, but no bio. The title read “Leviticus 17:7.” I opened a new tab and copy and pasted their title into the search bar. My heart jumped as the screen of my computer went completely black. Words appeared in blood red across the screen, and the strange buzzing from the blog began playing at full volume.

“And they shall no more offer their sacrifices unto devils, after whom they have gone a whoring. This shall be a statute forever unto them throughout their generations.”

As fast as the screen had turned black, it lit up and switched to a normal screen, websites focused on bible verses showing up as search results in one tab and the blog I was looking at in the other. The sound was back to a low volume.

I clicked back over to the blog, thinking that this must be some sort of set up they had with their blog so when you copy and pasted their title, the screen went black and the bible verse popped up. I smirked.

“Clever,” I muttered aloud. Their blog was mostly black and white pictures of cemeteries, strange symbols, and images of dead girls.

        There was an image of a girl hanging from a noose, a girl dead in an alley, a girl’s body left behind in a forest to rot. I reblogged a few of the unsettling images. It was sort of odd that I didn’t recognize any of the girls from movies, and the user didn’t use tags to identify them. I had seen more gore flicks than I could count, so it seemed logical I would recognize at least a few. Still, I didn’t think much of it. Maybe the user was into indie movies which not many people had seen.

        I fell asleep with the blog open and when I woke up the next morning the odd, buzzing music was still playing, soft and low. I shut my lap top, but the buzzing didn’t stop. Annoyed, I headed to the kitchen to start some coffee, rubbing my eyes. Maybe the sound was stuck in my head from having it play all night.         I sipped my coffee and the sound didn’t go away. Irritated, I went to the bathroom and grabbed two aspirin which I swallowed with a glass of water before hurrying to get dressed and leave for work. On the drive to work I played my radio loud, but it didn’t drown out the buzzing in my head.

        It was like my mind was filled with hornets, hornets that couldn’t be still. I went through my day being as polite to customers as I could despite my pounding head.

        “But they honored this coupon last time,” insisted an old woman with a creaking voice, holding up a crumpled coupon from five years ago which she wanted to use to buy a pack of gun that was only a dollar seventy-five to begin with.

        “Yes ma’am,” I said. “That would be because last time you hadn’t used it before. Unfortunately, you can’t use the same coupon twice.” I was working to keep my voice steady all while I fantasized about wrapping my fingers around her ugly, wrinkled, neck. Her gray eyes were filled with the kind of rage only a baby boomer whose coupon couldn’t be honored was capable of.

        “I would like to speak to your manager,” she snarled. I sighed.

        “Ma’am any supervisor I send you to will tell you the same thing.”

        “This is ridiculous!” she trilled. “I’ve been coming here for twenty-five years!” Here’s hoping you don’t live another twenty-five, I thought.

        “Again, I apologize for any misunderstanding,” I said in my most calm customer service voice. “Other people are waiting in line, so I’m going to have to ask that you either purchase something or leave.”         Snarling and grunting, the old woman limped away, leaning against a hooked cane. I entertained the satisfying image of her stumbling and tripping onto her cane so that the hooked end was slammed down her throat and crashed into her skull. She left the store still mumbling curses to herself.

        When I got home to my apartment I made myself some ramen noodles and poured myself a cheap glass of wine. So, I thought, this is what I’ve come to. Headaches, crappy dinners, and hours of scrolling Tumblr.

        I lay down in bed and opened Tumblr. The buzzing in my head hadn’t stopped so I felt silly for returning to the site that had caused it. Still, I was hopeful that I might make some friends to make my pathetic life a little less lonely.

        I glanced at my follow count and was a little disheartened to see that I still had only one follower. I looked at my notifications and was surprised to see that I had a message. It was from my solitary follower, the blog with a username made up of random numbers and letters.

        I clicked the message. They had sent me a post. I clicked the post and it took me to their blog. I froze.

        The post was an image of my face. I was laying on my side staring at the camera. My heartbeat accelerated as I stared at the image, realizing that it had been taken by the webcam on my lap top.

        I jumped when my phone buzzed, slamming my laptop. Picking my phone up, I saw that the caller ID read “Mom.” I groaned before swiping my finger across the screen to answer. In the moment between speaking and swiping across the phone, I realized that the room was silent. The buzzing was gone.

        “Hello?” I said.

        “Hi Olivia,” she said in her best ‘not mad, just disappointed’ mom voice.         “Hi mom,” I said.  

        “Olivia dear, I called Cosi and asked about you.”

        “Did you?” I grumbled.

        “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us you worked in the gift shop?” I cursed in my mind. I could just see her shaking her head.

        “I don’t know, Mom,” I said.  

        I wondered how she found out, but answered my own question before wondering for long. She could be quite convincing when she used her sweetest mom voice. It was a soft, worried tone which was only ever heard by people she wanted something from and never by me.

        After hanging up with her I felt the tears coming. I punched the wall, causing my fist to ache. I flopped down on my bed and let the anguish of the past couple months out in a sob. My shitty apartment, my shitty job, the angry customers, my mom’s disappointment, my creepy Tumblr stalker, it was all crashing down on me at once.

        I cried myself to sleep and when I woke up my phone was buzzing. I glanced down to see that it was Karen. I stared at the vibrating phone for several seconds before answering. Karen hadn’t called me in years. Our parents were good friends so it was impossible to avoid each other altogether after our messy high school breakup, but calling each other on the phone to chat?

I glanced at the red numbers on my alarm clock. It was three in the morning. She wasn’t calling to chat.

        I swiped my finger across the phone. “Hello?” I asked, groggy.

        “Liv?” Karen’s voice broke. I sat up straight, suddenly wide awake.

        “Karen, what’s wrong?” I asked.

        “Liv, I thought I should be the one to tell you,” she said. “Last night there was a break in at your parents’ place.”

        “A break in?” I asked, panicking. “What happened? Are they okay?”

        “Liv…” she trailed off, her voice heavy with tears.

        “Karen tell me what happened!” I yelled into the phone, my heart pounding.

        “Liv, they’re gone. I’m so sorry.”

        “No,” I said. “What do you mean they’re gone? They can’t be. What happened?”

        “You don’t need to know the details sweetie,” she said, her voice filled with the rich girl snobbery and grating pity she had always aired so well.    

        “Karen tell me what the hell happened to my parents!” I said.  

        “Liv…It’s horrible. Someone ripped their lungs out. The police aren’t releasing details yet, but I’m the one who…” she began to cry softly, and I hated her. I hated her for being allowed to cry, for feeling sorry for herself, for telling me this horrible news. It wasn’t logical, but I needed somewhere to direct the fury and horror surging through my blood. “Liv, I found them. It was so horrible.” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. This had to be a dream, some horrible nightmare. “The police will probably call you in a few hours,” Karen said. “I just wanted you to hear it from a familiar voice first.” She paused. “Liv sweetie, do you want to talk?”

        “No,” I managed through thick lungs. “I just…I need to process this.”

        “Okay,” Karen said. “I’ll call you tonight.” She hung up the phone and I was left sitting there with the phone with no one on the other end against my ear, staring into the shadows of my dark apartment.

        The next night after talking to the police and concerned relatives on the phone all day I lay back in bed staring at the ceiling. Their lungs had been ripped out. That’s all I could keep thinking. That was the very thing I had wished upon them in my private moment of annoyance. I tried to shake away the horrible feeling that this was somehow my fault, chanting phrases like ‘survivor’s guilt’ and ‘shock’ to myself but I couldn’t shake the awful clenching feeling in the pit of my stomach.

        I opened Tumblr to scroll and the first image I came across was of a blonde girl dead in her bathtub, her skin raw and bloody. It was a post from the creepy user who had sent me the picture of myself. Not wanting to see anymore death or gore for the night, I closed the lap top.

        After calling off work for bereavement I made the two-hour commute home. During the drive, I kept imagining that I heard that awful buzzing from my creepy Tumblr stalker’s blog. When I finally arrived in town I decided to stop by Karen’s house.

        I regretted my immediate feelings of anger towards her. After all, she had been trying to be kind by calling me before the police did. Besides, I could only imagine how horrible it must have been for her to find them like that.

        Pulling into Karen’s driveway, I felt sick imagining the scene she must have walked in on. How must it look when someone’s lung were ripped out? Who could do such a thing?

        I made my way to the front door and knocked. No answer. I knocked again. Still no answer. I knocked louder. Nothing.

        I turned the knob and gave the door a small push. It opened and I walked into Karen’s hallway. I felt a familiar flicker of resentment towards the expensive paintings hanging on her walls, the fancy woodwork of her stairs, the smell of flowers from outside rather than rat shit and Frebreze like my apartment.

        “Karen?” I called. No answer. I made my way up the stairs. “Karen, are you home?” I called.

        As I reached the top of the stairs I heard running water coming from the bathroom. So, she was running herself a bath, as she so often did. I smiled a little, remembering what her shampoo commercial hair looked like against her bare shoulders, and what her soft, perfect skin had looked like naked. There was a reason I’d fallen for her in high school. Watching her prancing around with the cheerleading squad, I had not been sure if I wanted to have her, or be her. Maybe both.

        “Karen?” I called, knocking on the bathroom door. There was nothing. No answer. I felt my heartbeat racing. Was something wrong? I began pounding on the door.

        When I still didn’t get an answer, I turned the knob. It wasn’t locked. I took a deep breath, and pushed the door opened.

        It took a moment for me to realize that the sound piercing the air was my own, anguished scream. I fell to my knees, my mouth wide but no sound escaping anymore. The water was running.

        In the bathtub, lay Karen. Her perfect skin was raw and bloody, ripped form her body to reveal muscle and bone. Her stereo was in the tub with her, still plugged into the wall. I stumbled backwards, the rational part of my brain realizing that if I stepped into the flooded bathroom I was liable to meet the same fate as Karen.

        Sobbing, I fell backwards into my hands. Her pink lips were open just a little and her wide blue eyes were bloodshot and stared emptily up at the ceiling. Bile rose in my throat tasting of sickness.

        Somehow, in my shock and horror I realized what I had to do. I pulled out my phone and dialed nine-one-one. I explained to the operator what I had walked in on, and gave Karen’s address through my sobs. She stayed on the phone with me as she sent dispatch over. There wasn’t much to say, but she did her best to keep me calm.  

        When the paramedics arrived, they wrapped a blanket around me even though I wasn’t cold and walked me outside. I was hyperventilating, unable to breath. I didn’t say it, but all I could think was that this was the second time a horrible wish I’d made in a moment of anger had come true. What was happening to me? Was I doing this? If so, how was I doing this?

        A burly officer in his fifties was kind enough to drop me off at my hotel. I wished I could stay at my childhood home instead, but it was of course part of a police investigation. I checked in at the front desk and took the elevator up to my room.

        Once in my room, I collapsed into the bed feeling sick with horror and guilt. I jumped when my phone began vibrating in the bed beside me. I picked it up and saw that an unknown number wanted to facetime. I had no desire to be on camera or speak to anyone, so I threw the phone across the room.

        It hit the wall with a crash, and the screen broke. I didn’t care. It was the least of my worries. As soon as it stopped ringing, it started again. I climbed out of bed and walked across the room to pick it up. It was an unknown number again, requesting to facetime.

        I swiped my finger across, planning to tell whoever it was that I couldn’t talk right now.

        When I saw the image on the other end my heart dropped into my stomach. It was the old lady from the gift shop whose coupon wouldn’t work. She was being videotaped from the side as she walked across her kitchen, leaning against her hooked cane.

        With a surge of horror, I remembered the dark fantasy I had entertained when I watched her leaving the store. I knew what was going to happen next, and some part of me knew there was nothing I could do about it.

        “Look out!” I screamed. Nothing. The old woman didn’t even look up. “Please,” I whispered as a sob welled in my throat. “Please don’t hurt her, I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it.” I repeated the words as if whoever was on the other end videotaping the old woman would care, as if they had compassion.

        The old woman slipped. I screamed as she fell forward, the cane twisting in her hand. The hooked end slammed into her mouth and blood poured from her wrinkled lips as she fell forward. The cane crashed through the back of her head and I heard the crack of her skull. Red and pink ooze formed around the black cane staining her greying hair.

        The screen went black. I stared at it, my hands shaking uncontrollably. I shook the phone to no avail. I threw it at the wall and it fell to the ground with a dull thud.

        “No!” I screamed into the empty hotel room. “This isn’t fair,” I sobbed. “This isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean it!”

        As I fell to the ground, shaking, an awful realization hit me. This wasn’t going to end. This would continue happening. Whatever force was doing this would not give up.

        “Then take me,” I whispered, wondering if I was going insane or speaking to some unspeakable evil which could hear me no matter how softly I spoke. Perhaps it could even hear my thoughts. “Don’t take anyone else,” I said. “Take me. Tear me apart. Claw me to bits. Rip my heart out!” I let out a shaky laugh that was more of a sob. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt. It ends with me.”

        A soft buzzing sound filled the room.