#because i had to fill out the registration form myself

[demonbanisher]

So as an Indigenous person in Canada you have certain rights you're entitled to and no one anywhere knows what the fuck they are, so me being three weeks into fighting my ex-employer over taxes and losing my mind decided to deal with my emotions by projecting them onto fictional characters lol - this might be solely self-serving but I'm fine with that

Remus sighed and let his head thunk against his laptop. Sirius smiled around his coffee cup. "You finally die of boredom?"

"No. I'm being slowly killed by stupidity," Remus mumbled against the keyboard. He really need to clean it. The dust was much more visible from this close up.

"Whose stupidity?" Sirius asked and Remus missed the note of warning in his husbands voice. It was Sirius's 'I'll fuck over everyone who tries to harm those I love' tone.

"It's the HR rep from my last job again. I need her to change my tax forms. My times working doing travelling and doing care for the packs was supposed to be tax-free. First she wanted my werewolf registration card, which is stupid. No one needs my birth certificate to prove I have a pulse. It would be fraud for me to have lied about my status. But whatever, I'd send it if that's what it took to get this over with.

"So I offered to scan and send a copy of my registration card if it meant they'd redo them for me and she followed up providing me a T90 form where I can figure out my tax exempt income myself. Except, I can't because form T90 requested you input the value found in box 71 of your T4 so I looked that up and of course box 71 is the dollar amount of your income that is tax-exempt for 'werewolves working in a designation pack zone as required by their employer' but I don't have that number because that's the bloody fucking box I've been trying to get them to fill out this whole time.

"And like I did all of this months before I quit. I mean I should have expected it cause I quit because of racism and discrimination but I gave them a TD-W1 already. I did everything I'm supposed to do but they don't expect to ever hire a werewolf so why would they bother to teach their HR reps the forms to complete upon hiring one?"

Remus sighed. "I'm sorry Pads. I know you deal with me ranting and raving about prejudice enough as it is. It's just getting to me. I don't know how much more I can talk."

Remus was met with a long steely silence followed by a crack of apparition and he sat up to find that his husband had disappeared. Less than five minutes later there was another crack and Sirius somehow reappeared with the CEO of his former place of employment who was looking rather sheepish.

"Mr. Lupin," he said, extending his hand, "I've been made aware there have been some issues with your tax forms?"

"Issues of discrimination," Sirius said his voice dripping with contempt.

"As I've said to your husband, Harold's has a strict zero tolerance policy when it comes to discrimination in the workplace."

"And as I've told you Mr. Jameson, if that policy was properly enforced Remus wouldn't have experience mistreatment to the level that he had no choice to quit for his own wellbeing."

Mr. Jameson swallowed heavily, but ultimately decided to ignore Sirius. "Well, I wanted to let you know we were able to revise your T4 properly and I wanted to apologize and deliver it in person."

"Thank you," Remus said, voice trembling as he took the envelope from his hand.

"Of course. If there's anything else...?"

Remus couldn't help but feel smug as the CEO of this multi-billion dollar company turned to look at his husband for confirmation that he was allowed to leave, which Sirius provided in the form of a terse nod.

"You didn't have to do that," Remus said, hands shaking as he opened the form to see that finally, finally box 71 was filled out.

"It's not right. You shouldn't have to jump through eighty different hoops to get them to do something that's enshrined in law."

Remus looked down at his feet embarrassed. He knew Sirius was well aware that Remus often paid full price for pain potions and other required medication because most apothecaries 'didn't take that rewards program' when he asked them for the discount entitled to him as a registered werewolf. He just got so exhaustion of having to argue and fight with everyone all the time and then being seen as a nuisance for having to get the manager brought out. It always felt like everyone in the store was staring at him and that he was being difficult for asking them to meet his basic rights.

Sirius slowly stepped into Remus's space. "I did it again, didn't I?" Sirius knew he often had a habit of setting of the world on fire for those he loved and asking questions later, including whether or not the people he loved wanted him to light the world on fire for him.

"I - I don't know. I mean they should know they can't treat people like that but I can't help feeling like I'm being difficult. "

"Darling," Sirius said, gently placing his hands on Remus's arms, "you aren't being difficult for asking them to recognize the rights afforded to you as a werwolf. It took years of hard work and advocacy to see those enshrined in law. They can't just be ignored."

Remus felt his eyes start to water. "Sometimes I think you'd make a better werewolf than I would."

"Hey," Sirius said, tipping his head up to look in his eyes. "Don't say that. You do so much for your community."

"Then why did I quit? Yeah, they treated me terribly and I had to deal with discrimination daily, but it meant something to the packs I worked with to actually have someone who understood them representing them. How can what I done not be seen as turning my back on them?"

"Sweetheart, the best thing you can do for your community is to stay alive. You can't help anyone if you can't get out of bed anymore or if you're being traumatized on a daily basis."

Remus let himself fall into Sirius's arms. "I just want to exist," he said as the tears finally fell. "Is that too much to ask?"

And Sirius didn't know what to say to that because he knew that more often than not the way the world treated Remus showed him that yes, it was too much to ask, but Sirius knew he'd do whatever he could to show Remus that wasn't true.

#sirius black does his taxes #good husband sirius black #wolfstar #fanfic rambling #boo fucking taxes #like i don't mind doing them but stop making me fight you to prove i have rights

[granulesofsand]

We dissociate hard when we’re around family — which we are currently (not by the time you see this) — and it includes a heavier denial of our multiplicity. This is like rewinding to before we knew we were a system but after we learned about CDDs.

Getting ready for an appointment that happened over a week ago, never once doubting where I was (not where the appointment was)

Trying to go to class over spring break (and packing my bag and locking the door) despite not being on campus

Walking to school (we haven’t attended this school, or any school in walking distance, since the 7th grade) on a weekend

Always having the date wrong, sometimes by every digit, and blaming it on ADHD

Zoning in without any idea where I am, chalking it up to regular forgetting

Coming to with a mouth full of meat, which makes me queasy to even smell, and feeding it to the dog — didn’t try to excuse it, just thought it happened to everybody

Making a bowl of food without meat, ‘suddenly’ has beef in it — I pass off most blackouts as kinda weird and move on

Having fully immersive conversations with other system members down to the details of the building and the dust in the light, simultaneously believing that everyone there was a person and that all of us were the same person (we couldn’t agree on who, that was the conversation)

Walking a littlie through a vivid flashback, feeling the heat of the fire and smelling the rotting trash, then slamming into front and deciding it was a dream

Thinking I’m not acting myself and then waking up two days later

Got into a fight about whether I had a country accent (with outsiders, and I don’t, but a few of the others do)

Checking in to a fight about whether I was resisting closing the garage door (we might’ve, seems weird though)

Blips of scenes from outside, switching in and out and feeling that this is fine and how everybody remembers ‘boring’ life events

Disoriented mood swings, remembering one moment and not the next as states came and went

Most of these were me, but not all of em, and this was within the last week only. And we were much worse before we were medicated for ADHD, and when the collective opinion was that we did not have amnesia.

We’re going to have to beg professors for extensions for all the switching, and most of them will say no because we aren’t registered with the disability office. They know we have DID, and we’ve filled out the registration form at least three times, but we have to meet with someone in person and we have the luck of a CDD system.

#osddid #did osdd #dissociative identity disorder #polyfragmented system #did system #cdd system #adaptive system #traumagenic system

[herblackabyss]

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[Title] 7 Dates, 7 Conflicts [Rating & Genre] [M] 18+, strangers to lovers, Collage AU [Pairing] Jeon Jungkook x Reader (Amaya Bradford) [Trigger Warnings] one little cuss word

[A/N] I'm working on two other fics along with this one, not BTS related sorry besties but I'm super excited about them especially the Mingi one. Rengoku Mingi lives in my soul rent-free 24/7, 365. but anywhoo I hope you all enjoy. I spent tiiimmmmmeeee editing and refining because I wasn't satisfied with the flow but I guess it's okay now... it's actually stressing me lol kmt. Your feedback is always welcomed guys it helps me improve my writing so feel free to critique in a helpful way. Also I named MC because it really helps with my writing but y'all can just replace the name ig <3

[Word Count] 1802

Tag List

@btsffreader92 ♡ @tinaluvtae ♡ @natalimurghulia ♡ @grltwin ♡ @hobisstar ♡ @namjoonsthottie

7:48 AM

If there's one aspect of school that I utterly dread, it's undoubtedly these cursed early mornings. Dragging myself out of bed at the ass crack of dawn feels like a form of punishment, a ritual concocted by the overlords of academia. I can almost picture them huddled together, plotting in the dim glow of a single desk lamp, cackling as they birthed this diabolical plan to subject students to ungodly class hours. It's as if they extracted it straight from the depths of a collective sleep-deprived nightmare. Yet, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, luck seemed to take a vacation during this particular semester. My favourite professor of all time, Mr Moody, and his highly sought-after class turned into the academic equivalent of a rare collector's item. The moment that registration portal creaked open, it was as if someone had fired the starting pistol at a track meet—the slots for Mr Moody's class were filled up faster than a Snapchat story on a roller coaster. So here I am now, faced with the one option that clung to the registration page like a stubborn sticker—an 8 am lecture..

Goddamn it.

It's the first day of the new semester, and I can already feel exhaustion seeping into my bones. Despite my reputation as an academic overachiever, I've developed a chronic allergy to early mornings. The mere thought of tearing myself away from the warm embrace of my blankets before 10 am sends an unbearable itch coursing through my body. It feels like I'm wrestling a goddamn grizzly bear every single morning just to make it to class on time.The snooze button has practically become your best friend—Ahem, sorry, not sorry, Chenle. And let's not even talk about the inner battle that rages on when I have to choose between a few extra minutes of precious sleep or a decent breakfast. Navigating through a labyrinth of corridors, I finally arrive at the lecture hall, securing a seat right in the heart of the middle row. I've always held the belief that my choice of seating speaks volumes about my stance on the upcoming semester. For me, it's all about striking that perfect balance. Front rows are out of the question—too much scrutiny from the professor's watchful gaze. But the back rows are equally unacceptable, a potential vortex of distraction among the Neanderthals. So I opt for the middle ground, a conscious decision to engage without being swallowed whole. As I settle in, I lazily rummage through my backpack, unearthing the recommended textbook for class, a fresh notebook, and that pencil pouch I scored from a Sugar Rush Riot concert during summer break. My gaze sweeps across the sea of semi-conscious faces in the room, hoping to catch sight of any familiar ones. And lo and behold, I manage to spot a few friendly faces. There's Ava, my ethics class companion from last year, Gina, my partner-in-crime for surviving Mr. Hanson's painfully dull physics lectures, Issa and Lucas, the dynamic duo who effortlessly infused Parisian flair into my French class last semester, and, unfortunately, the notorious campus Lothario, Jeon Jungkook.

He's got quite the reputation, you know? A real crowd-pleaser, widely sampled, and utterly disrespectful. Around campus, it's like every girl has her very own "Jeon Adventure" to share, each tale brimming with explicit and intricate accounts of how he managed to leave them a quivering, breathless mess. Frankly, it's rather revolting. The way they flaunt every encounter with him like it's some kind of prized badge, casually boasting about every single detail of their time spent together.

A sigh escapes my lips, and I shake my head in mild exasperation. Jungkook might be popular, but I'm not interested in becoming a chapter in his little escapades. I certainly can't afford a distraction of his magnitude and certainly have no intention of sharing a guy with the entire campus.

Lazing there, lost in thought, waiting for class to commence, my eyes are inexplicably drawn to his striking side profile. Absently, I trace the line of his sharp jaw, observing the corners of his eyes crinkling as he engages in animated conversation with his friends. A subtle twitch of his nose, almost like a telltale sign, triggers a charming smile that graces his lips. His head tips back in response to a particularly hilarious joke, and in that instant, his gaze locks onto mine. His lips curl into a languid grin as he watches me. His sudden attentiveness snaps me out of whatever trance I was in, and before I know it, my face scrunches up into a deep scowl. I dramatically roll my eyes before diverting my attention elsewhere, avoiding any further visual contact.

With impeccable timing, Chenle saunters into my peripheral vision, deftly navigating through the rows of my fellow classmates with two steaming cups of coffee and a pair of assorted bagel boxes from Avery's Baegel Shop. Always the savior, isn't he? Seriously, where would I be without him? He's practically rescued me from the brink of starvation more times than I can count. He seamlessly slides into the seat next to me, placing the delectable breakfast on the desk in front of me. The mouthwatering aroma triggers an intense craving, causing my mouth to water involuntarily.

"What's with the expression?" he playfully teases, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, noticing the way my brows knit together.

"Nothing," I replied with an annoyed huff, a hint of a smile curling up the corners of my mouth as I popped open the lid of the tempting treasure trove before me. My eyes locked onto the ideal choice—a cinnamon and creme bagel, practically begging to be savored.

As I took a bite, the explosion of flavors enveloped my senses, prompting a contented moan to escape my lips. Chenle chuckled at my reaction, well aware of just how much I appreciated his thoughtful gesture. He's always had an uncanny knack for understanding exactly what I need, even without me uttering a single word.

"I knew that one would hit the spot," he remarked, his eyes dancing with amusement.

"You know me too well," I replied, savoring each delectable bite.

"Oh, by the way, guess who's in this class?" I casually tossed out, locking eyes with my friend and flashing a knowing grin. Chenle and Jungkook happened to share the same major, and they'd endured numerous classes together. Most of my insights about the dreadful experience of sharing a lecture with Jungkook had been filtered through Chenle's complaints. Apparently, the guy had a knack for transforming classes into needlessly complex puzzles.

"You've got to be kidding," he scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically, disbelief etched across his features. I subtly nodded in the direction of the back row, where Jungkook was comfortably settled. I took another heavenly bite of the warm bagel, savoring the exquisite blend of cinnamon and brown sugar that danced on my taste buds. "But hey, don't sweat it too much. Rumor has it that Mrs. Steel doesn't take any nonsense in her class. Maybe she'll be the one to rein him in."

Almost as if on cue, Veronica Steel strode into the lecture hall, exuding an aura of self-assuredness, her car keys swinging carelessly from her fingers. Her lack of teaching materials upon entry suggested that she might not have an elaborate agenda for today's session. Fortunately for me, this was my only class on a Monday, leaving the rest of the day blissfully free.

"Good morning, everyone," she began, introducing herself with a confidence that immediately put me at ease. Her subtle Spanish accent added a touch of warmth and familiarity to her words. "I'm your instructor, Mrs. Veronica Steel."

"I won't keep you too long, given that this is our first class. However, I do have some important information to share." Her words lingered in the air, grabbing everyone's attention. "All the assignments for this course will be completed in pairs, and I've already assigned your partners. You should have received an email this morning containing the list of assigned pairs." The room sprang to life as students scrambled to retrieve their devices and check their emails, myself included.

My laptop springs to life, and I eagerly navigate to my inbox, searching for the email from Mrs. Steel. Hoping against hope that I've been paired with Chenle, or at the very least, with Gina or Issa, anyone who won't make my life a living nightmare. My eyes scan the list, darting over each name with bated breath, and then Chenle leans over and lightly taps the "Ctrl+F" keys on my keyboard. I can't help but feel a hint of embarrassment; it's not like I've forgotten such a basic keyboard shortcut.

With deliberate care, my trembling fingers spell out my name. Dread courses through my veins, fearing the prospect of being saddled with a partner who'd expect me to carry the entire load. With each letter that materializes on the screen, the suspense heightens. And there it is, as I complete the last letter, my partnership materializes on the screen: Jungkook Jeon & Amaya Bradford.

The air seems to vanish from the room. This can't be real. Out of all the potential partners, it had to be Jungkook. And to make matters worse, this partnership is locked in for the entire semester. Veronica's voice keeps rolling, outlining the expectations for the upcoming assignments. "Each pair will evaluate their partner for every assignment," her words hang heavily, driving home the gravity of the situation and the potential impact on our grades.

The idea of spending a whole semester partnered with Jungkook feels like a mental minefield. We're polar opposites, like oil and water, each with a distinct approach to academics and life. Finding common ground for effective collaboration seems an insurmountable challenge, one that's thrust upon me, whether I like it or not.

Mrs. Steel's voice rings in my ears, emphasizing that switching partners is off the table, no negotiations allowed. The pit of dread in my stomach deepens. This is unavoidable, a collaboration sentence I'm forced to endure.

Against my will, my gaze drifts towards Jungkook. Fuck I really can't stand this guy—an infuriating, self-assured grin plastered on his face. He's relaxed, clearly the king of his realm, ignoring the brunette whispering away on his right. His eyes, however, are locked on me, as if I'm the only presence in the room that matters.

As Veronica concludes, she leaves us with a parting shot. "Thanks for showing up, and I can't wait to see the amazing work you all produce. Welcome to COMM101." And just like that, she's gone, leaving me to wrestle with the chaos in my mind.

"Fml," I whisper, my forehead making contact with the table's surface with a resounding thud.

NAVIGATION | NEXT →

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x oc #bts x fem!reader #female reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x female reader #sylo stories

[cogitoergofun]

When I started working at Votebeat more than a year ago, I knew little about elections. I wasn’t eligible to vote, and for most of my adult life, the election process was confusing and intimidating. I wanted to learn as much as I could about how elections worked so I would feel empowered to one day participate myself. I wrote an essay about all of this when I started.

After months of writing about election administrators’ jobs, paper ballot security and storage, how primary elections work, election funding (or lack thereof), voting machine logic and accuracy tests, and voter roll maintenance, I now feel like I know more about our elections process than most of those around me.

I love it. And I’m now eligible to cast a ballot.

The process of registering to vote in Texas, however, was harder and more complicated than I expected.

This journey began when I became a naturalized U.S. citizen at a ceremony in May, having lived more than 20 years in the United States. After taking the oath of allegiance with around 50 others, volunteer deputy voter registrars from Bexar, Travis, Hays, and other Central Texas counties were waiting with voter registration applications.

I was 100% ready. I worked very hard for this moment, and I knew exactly what to do. It felt great to fill out that voter registration form.

The volunteer who took my application told me I would receive a voter registration card in the mail. It never arrived. A few months later, I checked my voter registration status on the Texas secretary of state’s website and nothing showed up. When I called the county’s voter registrar, they confirmed I wasn’t in the system.

But I knew I was moving to a different county soon, and decided to wait and register there. I figured I could easily register to vote at the local Texas Department of Public Safety office while also updating my address and driver’s license. I checked all the right boxes and I verified my information to make sure I had selected the option to register to vote. I asked the clerk at the counter to double-check, and he told me that he did.

I wanted to be sure because time was getting tighter. I knew that if I were to arrive at the polls on Election Day and find my information wasn’t in the system, I would need to vote using a provisional ballot and risk it going uncounted.

After a few weeks, I received my new driver’s license in the mail. But I was still not registered to vote. The deadline to register was getting closer. I called my county’s voter registrar’s office. The clerk on the phone said she was not sure what went wrong.

That’s when my journalistic curiosity took over. I started calling my sources to ask why someone’s voter registration applications would be landing in the void.

They told me the first application — the one I filled out right outside of my naturalization ceremony — could have gotten lost on the way. It was possible a deputy voter registrar never turned it into the county — though that’s a criminal offense. There’s also a possibility that my application is still sitting on someone’s desk at the county voter registrars’ office.

In other states, these problems aren’t as common. For example, in states with online voter registration — all except around eight states, though two more are in the process of implementing it — volunteers aren’t as necessary for registration, and no voter applications get lost in the mail or on a messy desk. Texas Gov. Greg Abbott, though, has blocked online voter registration for years with no explanation.

And until Texas does implement online voter registration, election officials say that anyone registering with a volunteer deputy registrar should receive a receipt with the date they registered and the volunteer deputy registrar’s ID. It’s important to hold on to that. If you show up to the polls and they tell you you’re not registered to vote, with that receipt in hand, you could still vote provisionally.

“If need be we can call that (volunteer) and say, ‘Hey what’s the problem here? Why don’t we have that application?’” Chris Davis, the voter registration division director in Travis County, told me.

I remember getting that receipt when I first registered outside of my naturalization ceremony. But at the time, I did not know how important it was, or that I might need it later. I misplaced it when I moved.

As for my second attempt, there’s a chance the DPS clerk made a mistake. Even when someone selects the option to register to vote on their form, the clerk still must manually select that option in the computer system in order for the data to be sent to the county. There also could have been errors in the process of transferring the data between agencies, or my information might have made it to the county registrar’s office and simply not been entered on time — a risk because the computer systems don’t talk to each other directly.

It was less than a week before the voter registration deadline, and I had to try again.

I filled out my third voter registration application. I went to drop it off in person at the voter registrar’s office.

This time, it worked.

But I am still thinking about how not everyone has the ability, the time, or the resources to ask questions, double-check their registration status, and make multiple attempts.

Being able to participate in democracy should not be this hard.

[ben243s-transformation-stories]

A harmless prank

Ah, you’ve got to love our educational system. School was canceled because of a teachers strike. They claimed they were striking for better pay, or training or some other such nonsense that was supposed to make out lives as students better. Of course, most of the time actually being in school and learning would have been better than sitting around at home goofing off. But it’s all for the kids. Yeah right.

So anyway, I had nothing better to do with my day than hang out with my friends and get into mischief. Everyone should know it’s never a good idea to leave teenagers unattended for long periods, but my parents didn’t have the luxury of taking off every time the teachers decided to go out on strike

I had just spent the morning with my friends, and was feeling kind of amped up and was in the mood to see what kinds of things I could get away with.

The area of town I lived in was fairly quiet and rural. There weren’t really any good places to go, or even a mall to hang out in, so I found myself lying on my bed tossing a ball in the air while i tried to come up with some kind of plan.

I was never one to get into too much trouble, and generally stuck to the rules. Today, though, something must have been in the air because I was especially restless and ready to see how far I could push my luck.

I couldn’t think of anything else to do, so I decided to have a little fun online and started searching for interesting websites. I scrolled for nearly half an hour before one finally caught my eye.

I’m not entirely sure what drew me to it, but I landed on my city’s government website. I had never really had cause to browse it before, and I was amazed by how many options it had, and the array of things that you could do totally online. Most would have taken the full day to do in person, but could be completed in minuets on the new site.

I couldn’t help but be amazed as I scrolled through the options. I stared to get a seed of an idea forming in my head. I should pick something and fill out the form and see what I could get to happen. At the very least I would waste some bureaucrats time, At best I could maybe cause some huge scene with the police or fire department. A grin spread across my face.

I browsed the site for a while longer, but nothing really met my requirements for my masterplan to cause havoc. Most of the options were fairly mundane and boring. Nothing worthy of my time. Except………

I clicked on the link for their new online pet registration page. Something felt right. This was the page I had been looking for. I decided to set my plan into action, Granted it wasn’t well thought out, but hey what do you expect from a bored 14 year old boy?

I brought up and read through the forms. Nothing too complicated just basic details. it looked straight forward enough. I started entering my real details in the fields, age, height, weight, etc. I even listing my parents as my owners, and uploaded my recent school photo. Under species I checked canine, and chose yellow lab for breed. I decided to list my name as the nickname my parents used for me “Sammy”.

I looked over the completed form and smiled. No way they would accept it, and at least it would waste some poor bureaucrats time reading and deleting it. Oh boy, I am such a reprobate now.

Satisfied that I had done something awesome, I clicked submit. A few seconds later I got an email confirmation that the form had been received. I waited a while to see if I would get some error notice, but nothing came. Oh well, maybe they have a lot of submissions to go through.

I gave up and decided to boot up my playstation and catch up on my games. Before I knew it it was time for dinner. After a good meal and little conversation with my parents I headed to my room to watch tv. Before I knew it, I was drifting off and decided to head to bed.

I forgot all about the form until about a week later. My mom had grabbed the mail and brought it into the dining room to read. I noticed the envelope for the one she was reading was from the city, but I didn’t think anything of it until she looked over at me.

“Samuel Benjamin Waldorf?!?!?! What have you done?” She asked me. You know you’re in trouble when they use your full name. I gave her a quizzical look, not exactly sure what she was talking about.

She turned to my father and started to read the letter out loud. “Thank you for submitting your registration for your dog “Sammy”. It has been approved and ….” She read on for some time and rattled of a bunch of legal jargon I had no hope of understanding. The bottom line was that I was now fully registered and classified as a dog in their system.

And to make matters worse,The letter said my “owners” had Just 72 hours to get me the required vaccines and license or there would be fines and penalties. My parents spent a number of those 72 hours yelling at me for being stupid, and how could I do something like that, all the typical parental things.

Once they had calmed down, they found a customer service number, and celled. The person they talked to tried to be patient and polite with them, but had to keep telling my parents that all registrations were final. Defeated my parents discussed what they should do next.

Since the deadline was looming, and there didn’t seem to be any way to resolve the issue quickly, they decided that I should comply with the mandate.

My mom called the vet, and explained what had happened. After a fairly awkward conversation, on both sides I’m sure, I had an appointment for an exam and shots in the morning. I always hated going to the real doctor, and this wasn’t anymore appealing to me. I tried to get some rest, but I kept tossing and turning.

I must have fallen asleep for at least a few hours, because my mom came into my room, shaking me to wake me up and make sure I was ready in time for the appointment. I was still half in a daze, but I managed to throw some clothes on and make it to the car.

My mom drove me to the vet hospital, which we hadn’t been to since our last cat passed away a few years ago. We went inside, and mom told me to grab a seat while she checked me it.

Mom talked to the receptionist, pointed at me a few times, and was given a clipboard with a stack of forms to fill out. She brought them over to where I was sitting, and sat in the chair next to me.

It seemed like it took her hours to fill out the forms. Every once in a while she would ask me for some detail or other she needed for the form. While she worked I idly look around the office. It hadn’t changed much from the last time we had been here.

When she was finally done, mom took the forms back to the desk and we were led back to an exam room. I was told to disrobe and sit on the examining table. I looked at my mother, and she gave me that look that every kid knows means “don’t you dare argue- just do it.” So i quickly stripped out of my clothes and sat on the table. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as cold as that exam table in my life.

A few minuets later, the vet came in a greeted us. He looked at me as said “this must be Sammy.” The vet spent a few minuets looking over the forms and talking to my mother. it felt a little strange to have my medical history talked about like I wasn’t in the room, but I guess that was standard practice for a Vet. Most of their patients didn’t talk back.

It wasn’t long before he stared the exam. He poked me and prodded me all over. He examined my ears, eyes, and mouth. I tried to keep my privates covered and maintain some modesty, but it was no use. He drew several vials of blood for tests, and even used a rectal thermometer to get a temperature. I never felt so humiliated in all my life.

Remember when I said the table was the coldest thing I’d ever felt? Well it was nothing compared to the stethoscope. He most have kept that thing in a liquid nitrogen freezer. I drew in a sharp breath when he put it on my skin and could barely handle it while he listened to my breathing and heart beat. He even reached down and palpated my testicles.

When he was done, he told my mother everything looked good, and he would let her know when the blood work came back. He, jokingly i hoped, suggested neutering me.

He then proceeded to fill several large syringes full of various vaccines. When he was done, my mother, worrying about me as she always does, asked the vet to include a microchip. I never liked needles and almost fainted at the sight of them.

Luckily the Vet was skilled, and I barely noticed as he plunged each one into my skin and injected the liquid. The vet grabbed the microchip and inserted it under my skin between my shoulder blades.

The Vet filled in all the forms and gave them to his tech, who took them to be entered into the computer. He told my mom we could head up front in a few minuets and his receptionist would have the proof of vaccinations and microchip forms ready for us. She thanked him, and he left so I could get dressed.

When we got to the front, everything was ready for us. My mom paid the bill and received a stack of forms i would need for my license. They event threw in a puppy kit with some food, treats and other essentials for me.

Mom took me back to the car, and had me sit in the back. Something I hadn’t done since i was little. She said it was where dogs belonged.I was still sore and embarrassed by the whole thing, so I didn’t feel like arguing. I hopped into the back seat and just enjoyed the ride home.

Once we got home, I gave my parents the passwords and login I had used on the city website, and they sat down to submit the forms and paperwork to get my license. I will give the site this, it may have its flaws, but it sure made the process easy. It only took them about 15 minuets to get everything entered.

They were even able to print out a temporary confirmation until the official form and tags arrived.

I was now officially licensed and registered as my parents pet dog. I thought the worst of my problems were over. Even if we couldn’t get the registration reversed, what harm could it do? Just renew the license every few years, and i would be good right?

It turns out it could do a lot of harm. What had started out as a joke was having serious consequences. My dad had gotten a call from the school district while I was at the vet. They informed it that since I was no longer classified as a human, I was not eligible to be enrolled in school.

Apparently my registration had spread through the other databases connected to the city system. Now all of my official records, even my birth certificate listed me as a canine. Not only was I licensed and registered as a dog, I was legally classified as one as well.

We sat around the table and had lunch, then my parents sent me to my room while they had a little “talk”. We all know what that means. I was in some serious trouble. I sat in my room trying to overhear what they were saying, but it was no use.

They talked for quite a while before I heard one of them leave. I glanced out my window and saw Mom heading to her car. I wondered where she might be going. I didn’t want to make my Dad angry, so I sat on my bed and watched tv until he called me down.

“Sammy”, he said, “Seems like you have gotten yourself into quite a predicament. Since you seem to want to be a dog, and now thanks to your little prank, you are one legally, your mother and I have decided that your role in the family should shift to that of the family pet.”

I couldn’t believe what i was hearing. Did he actually expect me to live as a dog? Sure I was one. legally, for now anyway. We could have that fixed right? this seemed a little extreme.

I took a look at my father. Every kid knows when it’s not worth arguing because your just going to lose and make things so much worse for yourself. Begrudgingly I gave in and said “OK, if you think thats best.”

Dad looked pleased and said “Good boy. Now lets get you out of those silly clothes” I started removing my clothes slowly, but Dad came over and pulled them off a little roughly. Then my Mom stepped over carrying a few bags. I recognized them from our local pet store. She pulled out a collar and fastened it around my neck. She then attached an Id tag that read “Sammy” with our address and their names as my owners.

My mom produced a dog bed from the bags and placed it in a corner of the living room. She then pulled out a pair of metal dog bowls, showing me that she had engraved my name on them. She took those into the kitchen and told me I would be fed there as long as I was a dog.

She had also purchased a few other things every dog needs, Some toys, and a variety of flavors of food, along with a few other essentials. I could tell they were serious about this and I would be filing the role of family pet for the foreseeable future.

I spent the next few days getting used to walking on all fours, being naked, using the bathroom outside, and being taken for walks. They even used some youtube videos to help them teach me basic tricks.

I wasn’t allowed to see my friends, play video games, or watch tv. I spent a lot of my time outside exploring the back yard and the little wooded area behind it. I was never one to spend a lot of time outside before, but I was oddly fascinated by every little thing I found.

After about a week, I decided that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. My parents were spending more time with me, and I enjoyed the attention, and much to my surprise I enjoyed being petted. It was certainly better than going to school.

The more time I spent in the role, the more comfortable I became as a dog. I hardly noticed as my thoughts and behaviors started shifting and becoming more dog like. If my parents noticed, they didn’t say anything.

After about a month, I had fully integrated myself into the role of family pet. I was thinking and acting just like another dog most of the time. This role felt so natural to me now and i decided I wanted to remain my parents dog.

One evening I told my parents that they could stop trying to reverse the registration. Little did I know they had given up weeks ago, and had agreed that they were enjoying having me as a dog, and could see how happy it made me. It was settled. I was now permanently the family pet.

My parents packed up all my human belongings and put them into storage, and hey converted my old bedroom into an office. I was kind of sad about that, but I hadn’t been using it. I had been sleeping exclusively on the dog bed in the living room for weeks now.

Over the next few weeks, something amazing happened. I’m not sure how to explain it, but my body started to change. I began to notice my fingernails turning black and getting longer. My fingers started to shorten, and I developed pads on my hands and feet.

I showed my parents what was happening to me, but they didn’t seem concerned in the slightest. They said I was being silly and told me to go play.

The changes made it so much easier for me to walk around on all four. Soon instead of using my knees I was on my hands and feet. Each night I was eager to head to bed so I could see what changes would happen over night.

The next morning I noticed some new changes. I had started to grow in some yellow fuzz over my body, and my ears seemed to be getting longer. My privates changed shape and attached them selves to my stomach in some kind of sheath.

Over the next couple of days, my fur grew in fully to cover my body, and my ears were long enough to flop over, and had moved up a little on my head. Next I noticed a nub of a tail protruding from my spine. My nose also started turning black.

It wasn’t long before I had a full tail that I could swish around when I was happy. I also developed a full muzzle. I caught a glimpse of my self in the mirror, and marveled at how much I looked like a dog. Some of the proportions were wrong, but It was unmistakable. I was becoming the yellow lab I had registered myself as.

One night I tried to sleep but I couldn’t get comfortable. I kept tossing and turning all night, until finally I felt kind of a snap as my ribcage and other bones shifted and made their final changes.

When I awoke in the morning, I made my way to the mirror only to see a fully transformed yellow lab where a human boy had been not that long ago. I stared at my reflection just long enough to watch my eyes fade from blue to brown and the transformation ended.

I was now fully a dog. I was so happy that i raced to find my parents. It wasn’t hard, my new nose was flooding me with all kinds of information. When I walked into the kitchen, my parents stopped what they were doing and looked me up and down. They looked very happy, and said “Good boy, Sammy”

They seemed to think all this was normal, and that I had always been their dog. Hadn’t i though? I was having trouble remembering that i used to be anything other than their pet.

Oh well, it didn’t matter. I was a good boy. I could feel the memories and thoughts of my former life slowly fading away like melting icebergs, but I didn’t care. I knew I was their faithful dog and that was all that was important.

A little later, my former parents attached a leash to my collar and took me for a walk. I loved the explosion of input from my new senses and the feeling of the grass on my feet.

We spent the day playing fetch and going to the dog park. I was loving life. Of course it wasn’t all fun and games. I still had to go to school. Obedience school that is. I was top of the class and learned each new trick quickly.

The other downside is that my former parents decided to neuter me. Oh well. I wasn’t going to be out dating much anyway. And it was for my own good they told me. Sure I believe that one. It wasn’t so bad except for that cone I had to wear. I swear the other dogs were laughing at me.

I never did find out exactly why I transformed, or even why I registered in the first place. Maybe it was the universe trying to fix a mistake. Maybe it was a sinister AI the city has that can somehow manipulate people. Now I’m starting to sound like a conspiracy theory.

Ah well it really doesn’t matter, I am much happier this way than I ever was as a teenage boy, and my parents seem really happy to have me as their pet.

[lavienbleuuu]

A Draft From 7/12:

July and Everything in Between

The Highlight of the Month: How Little Things Bring Bigger Hopes for Me

It is still three days until the end of July, but I’d like to talk about it sooner.

So, earlier this month, I discussed a TED Talk video with one of my closest friends. The title is How to Achieve Your Most Ambitious Goals, with the speaker, Stephen Duneier. It is a 17-minute video that is worth watching at least once in your lifetime.

One of the key takeaways from that video was the importance of breaking our goals down into small, manageable tasks. So, right after that, I started a personal movement called Small Things Matter. Basically, I hung an A4-sized piece of paper in my room to hold my sticky notes with my daily to-do lists. What I meant was that the small to-do lists I make on a daily basis still matter because I believe they will help me achieve my big dreams.

One of the things on the to-do list was to attend Kak Sri Izzati’s ‘Les Nulis Mini’ session.

If I’m not mistaken, I and Verde (not my closest friend’s real name) discussed Kak Izzati around the beginning of May. We were astounded by her accomplishments, her love life, everything. And she’s pretty (physically) as well. We adore pretty women, because who doesn't? Everything about her is just adorable (at least that’s how I see through a lens called social media).

Then Verde told me about this ‘Les Nulis Mini’ session one day. I tried to gather as much information as possible because I’ve become more serious about writing since the beginning of this year. I was so excited to attend this session! So, when I saw that Kak Izzati had already opened the registration, I didn’t hesitate to fill out the form and be a part of it.

As it turned out, I had no regrets.

It was a 2-hour session of writing course in total. It was jam-packed with practice and listening sessions. She essentially gave us (the participants) some prompts to help us think about what to write. She then allowed some of us to read our work. She then gave us some advice as well.

The most valuable takeaway from this session was that it is okay to begin everything (especially writings) with unstructured points. At the end of the day, the purpose of writing is to allow ourselves to be as honest as possible. Allow everything to flow from our minds, then write it down, read it again, and try to rearrange the unstructured into the structured. After that, we can proceed to the conclusion of what we want to tell through that writing.

It was an insightful session. In this session, I learned a lot from Kak Izzati and other friends. They (the other participants) shared their experiences, challenges, and anything else related to “what they don’t tell you about the process of…”. So basically we talked about our process in certain things (based on our own experience).

It was a lot of fun! I don’t regret letting my money run into her bank account and allowing myself to gain as much knowledge as possible after that.

TMI: I decided not to buy a ticket to watch Perunggu (one of my current favorite bands) and decided to take this course. Perunggu can wait, but this chance can’t.

I had an incredible Friday experience. It wasn't just an experience to learn how to write better, but also how to keep dreaming big, and do the little, manageable tasks to go there eventually.

[nempthis]

My job interview today

Here's what happened on my most anticipated job interview.

I was told by the HR representative to arrive at the place at 10 am or 10:30 am but Inwas already there by 10 am just to be sure. I waited on their waiting area together with other applicants for hours and for him to finally arrive with his Starbucks coffee on one of his hands. After his arrival, he went out the office again for some reason and I waited for another 30 mins before he finally called names, only to tell us applicants that we should have brought our resumes with us. It's his fault for being so late and also not informing us about bringing resume when I already gave him 2 copies on our first meeting. So I had no choice but to go on my way to print another one of my resume. Good thing our building is next to a mall which has printing services. I saw one of the applicants already printing her resume while I was having trouble sending my resume through email because the computer only receive documents through email not through bluetooth or via flashdrive. Another good thing, I have an e-copy of my resume in my phone but I was having trouble connecting and sending it to the computer shop. The most annoying part is when it was my turn to finally print my resume, suddenly there was a short power outage. I was really losing my shit because the inconvenience is unbelievable. Anyway, I still managed to print it with minor defects on my resume. I added my phone number and email address on it because apparently it gor deleted. I don't how that happened. Glad I noticed it before I handed it over to my late interviewer. Then I was told by him to enter the interview room, he asked simple questions about myself and other stuff. Not nervous at all. He also discussed the shifting periods and of course the payroll. The interview went fast unexpextedly. It only lasted for about 15 mins or less. After that, it took me time to fill up registration papers for government offices. Other applicants started to ask me about how the interview went so far. These applicants are still on the assessment stage which I already took a week before my interview so they're really trying to pry on useful things to pass whatever test they should pass. After filling up the forms, I went home immediately because I was starving and tired. Long story short, the interview went well and my tentative starting day is on January 24, 2023. If I accomplished my requirements that they gave me as soon as possible then I might start early on. Still depends if there's vacancy tho. So basically, there's still no hiring position at the moment but they already gave me set of requirements to be accomplished soon and also a tentative starting day of my training (with pay). Given that they scheduled a tentative starting day and also these requirements, technically I'm hired although an email confirmation of my starting day is a surefire that I am in on it.

I guess my wish was partly granted. Thanks, tumblr gods!

[veds222-blog]

SCAM AND SCAMMERS

Everything you see online isn't real. I used to think world is perfect. Anything you want you can achieve is achievable. well! IT ISN'T. I thought whatever i want i can search online and get what i want. Up until now but recently i got SCAMMED! Yes you read it right . Anyone could get scammed because are so believable. They are making fake agreements and making people think they are authentic.

I have been unemployed for a while due to searching for a govt. job. Too perfect for people like my family. I got into it after geting graduation. But it is not that easy as it seems. I have been trying to get into one since three years. Most of the time I didn't know what is my major. I chose Engg. for graduation,a big MISTAKE,but got through it anyway. After that I've been hustling.

Recently I found out it wasn't my major. So i tried things and found that I'm good at nothing. So i decided to go for a bank job. I started preparing for it and it's been 2 yrs . During Pandemic I decided about taking that kinda job. But then my health was deteriorating for no apparent reasons. I got UTI and Yeast infection which lasted a year. Then got better eventually. But after that I got neck strain ,obviously, because hey it's me. Always have some issues with my body health. After having this thing I couldn't study nor have a job.

So I thought I'll go for a part time job, which wasn't easy as I researched whole internet for things to do at home, work from home jobs , starting an insta Vlog, writing about things , posting about my favorite skin care regime. Nothing worked out.

After getting hopeless and talking to friends about this I searched about DATA ENTRY JOBS, which turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. I took a job which was free and had no registration fee and had an agreement and everything and the target was to fill up 700 forms in 6 days .But, hey, it had a very handsome salary of Rs.17,500 ,which is very pleasing right? But it was too good to be true! I got through with it and completed 500 forms but it was at that time when it started. They had stated in the agreement that if you block your ID due to some reasons like unequal logins and logouts you will have to pay 4k for another ID and told me it would get refunded with the salary. I thought no issue let's get started again. I payed that amount and again started my work to complete the rest. Then again at the last 2 forms I got blocked due to a blank form entering mistakenly. They said you have to pay 8K now I thought what the hell! I don't have any money now. Asked my friends if they could. They were really supporting, I got started again but the login couldn't get through. I was told by the technical team that it's got cracked at your end you have to again purchase an account. They told me each account costs 25K to the company. I started getting furious I said it's enough. They started to threaten me that if you don't pay we will cancel your ID and take legal actions against me. I got really scared because they had my address and my Aadhar ID. They started calling me again and again to tell me that they'll take this to the court and have Police come at my house and make me pay 75000.

I talked to my friends and they said don't worry they cannot do anything, It isn't written in the agreement like that. I couldn't let it go. How could I be so stupid and get myself into this thing. Get so involved. I searched internet and they were telling how these recruiters are fake. I realised I've been SCAMMED. Don't get yourself into this thing. Be very AWARE!

#delusions #fake world #scammers #health care #mentally tired #existence

[lifeisntafantasy]

When you find out you got accepted into the high school you want and your guardian makes you fill out your own registration form because they're too incompetent to do it themselves-

#haha mood #srsly tho #i got into the high school i wanted- #im so happy- #but also im terrified #bcuz #im gonna have no friends #and im not gonna know anyone there #but im also annoyed #because i had to fill out the registration form myself

[jekunitrash]

A very short one-shot for Jeje and Mikuni's birthdays

I know I'm late for Mikuni, please just consider the story is taking place on October 1st.

Mikuni wasn't fond of parties. Not anymore, at least. There used to be a time when the manor got pretty lively on this particular day. But now, even though he wasn't there to witness it, he could imagine it was but a plain and normal day at the Alicein mansion. Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy all the attention, the presents, the praises, and everything that came along with celebrating his birthday. It was just... something he could live without. Compared to the other, more considerable losses, this one was irrelevant. Laughable, even. And yet, it was at this very moment, that Mikuni felt the loneliest. It wasn't the celebration in itself he missed, but the people who were there to take part in it. People he loved and couldn't see anymore, people who had loved him in return and couldn't anymore. For quite various reasons, but the conclusion was the same. His deceased mother could never wish him happiness again, and neither would Misono nor his father.

Today could have been a delightful day, but all joy had died that night, as well. Celebrating had become meaningless, worse, it would be painful more than anything. From now on, Mikuni's birthday would be a regular day. That was what he wanted.

So why did his chest hurt so much? He had come to terms with his past decisions, since then. He'd known about the consequences. He preferred it being like this, a hundred times more than what could have been. But it still hurt. Maybe because this date was special, maybe because he only truly realized now all that he'd lost. Perhaps it was because he knew no one could make today the same as before, too. For all of those reasons, Mikuni felt empty like he hadn't felt in a while.

Then, he remembered a conversation he once had with Tsurugi. About being jealous of him. Obviously, the blond had denied it. What could he possibly envy about the raven? His situation was just as bad, if not worse than his. But as of now, it did feel like jealousy. Tsurugi may not have the best life here at C3, but he at least had Touma and a few friends to think about his birthday. Mikuni didn't even have that. It was such a pathetic thought, but it was true nonetheless. Tsurugi had something Mikuni didn't. And he sometimes hated him for it.

Jeje turned around upon hearing someone sneeze, and sighed when he saw it was only Tsurugi.

"Tissues... on the table...you should... dress warmer. Fall... is already here."

"Sure, thanks, Jeje-chan!" The man said, hopping on a chair. "This mission was so boring, I couldn't wait to come back. Where is Kuni?"

Jeje swayed from one foot to another, visibly uneasy.

"He is still... working. He said... he wanted calm and... silence."

Tsurugi downright pouted, a childish mannerism to express his disappointment. "Heeeeh, is he for real? Today is his birthday, though. Where is the fun in filling out paperwork?"

The vampire fumbled with his sleeves. "I don't think... he is... looking forward to his... birthday." He muttered, and Tsurugi noticed the hint of guilt in his voice.

"Well, for starters, did you wish him an happy birthday? That could help." He said, a brow raised.

"He... probably... doesn't want to hear it from me..."

The raven leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his hands. He looked irritated somehow and that sure was something new.

"Jeje-chan, that is, how should I put it? Yeah, you're being stupid."

The taller man was about to get irritated as well, but Tsurugi went on.

"Look, what I'm saying is, you can't know how he feels nor what he wants if you don't ask or try. Kuni-chan has no one besides you to remember - well, I happen to know because it's written on his registration - but anyway, of course it would make him happy to hear it. That's only natural. Even if he denies or try to hide it behind a facade, he has a heart. And he's too sensitive for his own liking."

Jeje bit on his lower lip, pondering on what the raven had just said. He knew his eve had been moody since this morning, just as he knew his family's absence, today of all days, was weighing on him. He just felt like it wasn't his part to play.

"Even so..." he began eventually, "I can't replace... his family. It will never... be the same, for him."

Tsurugi was quiet for a moment, as for once, he was thinking of the best way to say things. It was soon obvious what he should tell Jeje.

"Okay, you may be right. It will indeed never be the same. But it doesn't have to be such a bad thing. What I mean is, from now on, what you have to do is to make it as good as you can. And then, little by little, you will both get new habits and find a way of your own to celebrate it. Kuni-chan... he's stubborn, and I'm sure he can be resentful, but he has a sense of what's right and what's not. So it's unlikely that he hates you to begin with. Therefore, being wished a happy birthday, even if you're not best friends, would still make him a little joyful."

Silence followed his statement. Jeje couldn't argue against that, as his analysis of Mikuni was so sharp. He was admittedly impressed, since Tsurugi always acted like an idiot. He hadn't thought he could have such a good understanding of people. After being stared at insistently for a solid thirty seconds, Jeje resigned himself.

"Alright... I will... talk to him."

The raven smiled like a contented child, his arms proudly crossed on his chest.

"Good, good!"

The afternoon was near it's end when Mikuni got it over with, not that it mattered. All he wanted was for this day to finish quickly, so maybe the one after he would forget about it already. It was so frustrating. He knew there was nothing he could do to change anything now, but it was bugging him nonetheless. It was as though a little, pestering voice kept reminding him, 'hey, you're all alone for your birthday. You ruined everything, so this is entirely your fault, tough'. And at this point he was tempted to go to sleep if it meant it would shut up. It would most likely have to wait, if the knock on the door was anything to go by.

He'd be lying again if he said he wasn't a tad bit surprised to see Jeje.

" What? I said I needed calm, didn't I?"

While it was far from an engaging start, his tone wasn't as spiteful as he had meant it to be. He had mostly sounded tired.

"I know... but you've been here all afternoon and... I thought you should... take a break." Jeje mumbled, which made Mikuni look at him quizzically. He had never acted out of his own initiative before. Rather, he had never gone against his eve's indications.

"Oh." Mikuni said, "Well, there is no need anyway. I'm done."

"That's... good."

Well, now it was awkward. Mikuni wasn't too sure, be it because of the fatigue or the unrealistic side of the situation, but was Jeje acting shy?

"Yeah, I guess." He spoke, "If that was all-"

But, unexpectedly enough, Jeje wasn't done, and Mikuni stopped midway after hearing a distant voice.

"Ha..."

The blond eve frowned, Jeje was being so weird and he had no idea why. Plus, he wasn't in the mood and it was beginning to annoy him.

"What?" He asked, and this time the vampire straightened his posture a little more.

"... happy birthday."

Mikuni legit blinked, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Huh?" He genuinely thought he had misheard, that he was imagining things. But his servamp surprised him even more by repeating that sentence. Louder, and firmer.

"Happy birthday, Mikuni."

The eve closed his mouth, opened it again, and in the end closed it. His troath felt dry for some reason, and his chest stinged in a manner that was oddly familiar. It was a strange warmth that spread and that he used to identify as joy.

Jeje was standing here, perfectly still, apparently waiting for an answer of sort. The way his mouth formed a line indicated that he wasn't too sure of what to do next, and Mikuni himself would have liked a notice.

At last, the only logical thing he could do was to thank him, and even then, he had trouble to process it. The embarrassed mess who spoke was totally not him, either.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Thank you."

Jeje seemed to relax afterwards, but it was still strangely tense. Mostly because Mikuni had a hard time believing it had happened. The vampire tried to think of a normal thing to do in this situation, or remember something the Alicein used to do on their birthdays. But then he recalled that Tsurugi had adviced to do something new, and decided he should just ask his eve at this point.

"So... Is there something... you want to do? Or eat?"

Truthfully, Mikuni's face was priceless, and perhaps someday he could even laugh about it, but not now. Right now Jeje was relieved, above all things.

"Some good tea would be nice, I suppose." Mikuni said eventually. "Also, a midnight stroll in the park. And why not cake, but I'm not going to eat it by myself, so... "

It was Jeje's turn to be started, and despite not being fond of sweet things, he couldn't turn down the offer.

"I... see. Then... I'll... have some. If that's... okay."

And then, Mikuni smiled for the first time in months.

"That would be alright."

Jeje poured a second cup of Ceylan tea for his eve, while the latter cut the small cake they had just bought. Tsurugi's present had been to negotiate a night out of C3 base without surveillance, and it was admittedly the best. Mikuni had cringed upon having the raven pester him about his birthday, of course, but his soft expression later on had told Jeje that he was thankful. The servamp could feel himself smiling, ever so slightly, as he put the cup on the table, and he was glad for the way it had all played out in the end. Mikuni was indeed loving his birthday, in a way, despite everything, and it was all the vampire could ask for.

It was when they were coming back from their walk, couple hours later, that Mikuni asked him out of the blue.

"By the way, Jeje. When is your birthday?"

Then again, it startled him. For one thing, no one had asked him that in a long, very long time. And for another one, he had stopped caring since he had become an immortal monster and had incidentally forgotten about it.

"I... don't know." He replied simply.

Mikuni hummed, and when the clocks indicated one minute past midnight, arbitrarily declared,

"In that case, your birthday should be today".

#servamp #mikuni alicein #jeje #jekuni #fanfiction #tsurugi kamiya

[russiantkach]

Army in Russia

I think everyone has heard about the Russian troops in Ukraine. I will not touch on relations between Russia and Ukraine today, because today I want to tell you about the army.

In the US and Europe, most armies are contract-based. That is, the profession is treated as a profession. But not in Russia. We have a conscription army - every man over 18 must serve a year in the army. At the same time, the Russian Federation is not officially at war with anyone, so why a mandatory army is needed is not clear.

And it would be fine if the conditions in the army were good - but no. A legendary video has been circulated on the Russian Internet, where soldiers are sitting in the dining room at their headquarters. One of them turns the plate upside down - and the food does not fall down. He pats the plate - food does not fall. And this is in every military unit. Below you can see photos of food from the army - oatmeal with sausage, cheap bread and tea "from a bucket" - a so-so combination.

A week ago, I had to go through the first stage of entering the army myself. In January, a summons came to the army, until February it was necessary to collect all the documents. The military enlistment office was housed in an old Soviet building, crowded with hundreds of conscripts like me - in the midst of a pandemic. All in all, it didn't go too bad - except that I had to go back to the urologist, which I don't really like for obvious reasons. It took four hours - paperwork, medical examination, red tape again - and home. Usually everything is worse - they are forced to go through an endless medical examination and paperwork without the right to even go to the toilet. And it takes eight hours. But I arrived early and fired back easily, although it didn’t go without trouble - it turned out that not all the documents were indicated on the agenda, and I had to “collect them again”, although if you don’t do this, no one will say against. Why? Because всем похуй.

There are several ways to "reject" from the army The first is a diagnosis. If you are sick with something, then they will not let you in. Many "picture" diseases for themselves (fortunately, you know how corrupt Russia is, and there are no problems with this). By the way, non-traditional orientation is also considered a "disease" in this list - speaking of Russian homophobia. The second is to bribe the head of the military registration and enlistment office. The third is the university. Many go to universities just to avoid the army.The last way is to say that the army is contrary to your religion or ideology. Those. if you are a pacifist, then you can, in theory, legally hang out from the army. But it is extremely difficult to prove this, and you will still serve, but in a different form - to work as an orderly in a hospital for free. Or the postman. And the term instead of one year - two.

Why is everyone so reluctant to join the army? Because the Russian army is HELL. Living conditions are half the problem.

First, the attitude of the leadership towards recruits. They are not considered human. At best, they are just treated like a burden. Like how an office worker relates to deliverable documents that need to be filled out. At worst, generals treat soldiers like cheap labor. One soldier died under a fallen plank while he and others were building a dacha for the general's mother-in-law.

The soldiers themselves do not consider each other as friends or people either. Hazing flourishes in the army - when more service soldiers (dembelya) mock new soldiers (novichoks). You'll be lucky if they just take away things or money. After all, they can be beaten. Just. And in the worst case - forced to have sex. Yes, you got it right. Homosexual rapes happen regularly in the Russian army.

Some soldiers were forced to fight in other countries - in Syria and in the East of Ukraine (the same Donbas where the separatist republics are fighting against Ukrainian troops). At the same time, they are fighting not as soldiers of the Russian Federation - but as fighters of the Wagner PMC - an organization that, as it were, exists, but it seems to be non-existent. And the bodies of those who died there are not returned to their mothers.

And finally, an interesting fact - the Russian parliament annually increases the budget of the army, cutting medical care, education and benefits, as well as raising taxes. At the same time, the military sector is considered the most corrupt in the Russian government.

#russian politics #russia #russian army #army #ukraine #war

[camp-counselor-life]

Organizing

So one of the things I pride myself on is my time management skills. As many of you know, I am autistic, and sometimes things like time management in self-driven situations (which my work is) are difficult with executive dysfunction. So I thought some of you other people might appreciate a camp and non-profit tested system.

Keeping Track

This is something I developed in college - write stuff down. Do not trust your memory. For me, at work, I keep a list and two calendars. 

The list has gone through multiple iterations. In college and at camp I used a paper list and it lived in my pocket, going everywhere with me. Pre-pandemic, I used my white board in my office. With working at home, I had to adapt. I tried using my window at home, but that didn’t vibe, so I starting using Outlook and that is my go to. 

Everything goes on the list. Got to ask a question? On the list. Print job? On the list. Big project? Broken down into smaller pieces, then on the list. This feature is mainly in the desktop app for outlook, but it does allow you to write notes within the tasks. Also, there’s tons of organizational apps to make lists in, like Trello (heard good things about this one). Then, you get to cross stuff off/mark it as complete and get a little serotonin boost.

For calendars, in college and at camp I used paper calendars. In college I carried it in my backpack, which basically went everywhere with me, and at camp it was posted in my office. Now, I keep a day-to-day calendar with meetings and timed reminders (like a recurring task on a certain day) in Outlook, and it’s visible to my team and other coworkers, but I also keep an at-a-glance calendar with three main things: events (color coded), registration deadlines, and days I’m not working. Both serve a purpose and help me keep track of my deadlines and activities.

Start small and build the habit of keeping track. I did not grow my ability to keep lists and calendars overnight. Start by putting one or two things on your calendar or list and seeing how it feels. It’s ok to try out different methods.

Prioritization

Keeping track of your tasks is unfortunately only part of the battle, you have to actually do them, and sometimes it’s hard to choose which ones to begin with. So I usually prioritize in this order:

Quick tasks I can do on my own - if it takes under 5 minutes and I can just do it, that is where I start, because it feels good to knock 5 things off my to do list in 20 minutes. This group is usually stuff like simple emails, adding something to a chart, or filling out a form. Also, this doesn’t necessarily have to be something that I need done right then, but it’s something that I can do then.

Time sensitive tasks (medium length) - this is for stuff that needs to be done that day or the next and will take 20-30 minutes max. Usually it was saved for that day and it’s stuff like confirmation emails, program social media postings, and staffing emails.

Things people are waiting on me for - I try to answer emails within 1 business day. This is not a rule from a boss, this is just me, because I hate it when GSUSA takes 3 weeks to email me back. But I prefer to prioritize getting back to people or getting them what they need before I settle into long term tasks. The exception is when I have to check on something with another coworker or wait on something else to reply.

Medium tasks and tasks I need help with - These are less time sensitive tasks that will take longer or require collaboration, such as program planning, strategy, and event curriculum.

Bigger projects due soon OR chunks of big projects - as mentioned above, I break down big projects for my to do list. For example, “write outreach curriculum” becomes “choose outreach activities,” “write 2 outreach days,” “finish outreach draft,” and “finalize/proofread outreach curriculum.” I space these out in the weeks before the due date so that I have time to actually spend on these items. I choose work days that I have less tasks for to give myself enough time. 

Bigger projects/long term work - lastly, when there’s time, I spend some time on higher level stuff, like strategies and patch curriculum. Long term projects with long term due dates.

So hopefully this gives you some idea of a strategy to use for your own time management.

#grown-up camp staff job #working at camp

[quickspinner]

A for Effort

Written for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Challenge. This week’s challenge was a round robin, and I got to write with @sapphicmarinette and @ladycat1! 

Our prompt was Ladybug Juleka and Black Cat Luka are superheroes who keep having to rescue their respective pink damsels in distress...but I read it completely wrong and I was the first sprinter, so we have Black Cat Juleka and Ladybug Luka instead! We had to take a little extra time to do this because after our allotted 3 sprints we had the first half of a chapter of a multipart epic, so we had to do some last minute brainstorming to reign it in....but I really hope one of us chooses to expand on it further because it’s such a fascinating idea!

Thanks for writing with me friends! 

Luka and Juleka trooped into their room, one after the other, and both of them flopped on their beds with identical groans of exhaustion. 

“When we find Hawkmoth,” Juleka mumbled, “I get first dibs.” 

Luka snorted, but for once, didn’t rise to the bait of their typical post-battle debate. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Juleka frowned. “If I hadn’t jumped in front of it, that blast would have—”

“No, not that,” Luka interrupted, and then sat up and flopped in the other direction on his bed so that he could look across at her. Juleka looked over and knew the smirk on his face was trouble. She started turning red, and Luka laughed. “See, you know exactly what I mean,” he chortled, flopping onto his back. Juleka glared at Plagg, who was snickering from his perch on her foot. 

The kwami’s only response to her glare was to shove more of his disgusting cheese in his mouth. Juleka groaned, and pulled a pillow over her face. “I can’t believe I did that either,” she muttered. 

“You kissed her hand .” Luka grinned, handing a giggling Tikki another cookie. “You swept her up in your arms, carried her to safety, and then you got all up in her face—” 

Juleka folded her arms over the pillow and screamed. 

“I’m dying to know what you said,” Luka added.

“NO,” she barked, and he chuckled. 

“And then you took her hand and you—”

“What about you?” Juleka said suddenly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting up, hurling the pillow at him all in one smooth motion that he had to admire. 

Until her words hit him. “What?”

Juleka smirked. “ She was there again too.” 

Luka’s ears went red, and Juleka smirked wider. “Is that why you tripped over that fire extinguisher?” Juleka asked innocently, and cackled when he threw the pillow back at her.

“I really hope she didn’t see that,” Luka muttered, slapping his hands over his face and dropping back on the bed. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her there!”

“Especially not wearing that outfit,” Juleka snickered. 

“Oh my God,” Luka groaned. He definitely hadn’t expected to see her in that sweet little red and black spotted dress. “I thought I was going to die. Worst hero death ever.” He couldn’t help the goofy grin that wanted to tug at the corner of his mouth. “Just imagine if your little blonde pixie—” 

“Her name is Rose .” 

Luka rolled over to look at her. “Imagine if you showed up and Rose was wearing that dress, only in black and green.” He raised his eyebrows. “With kitty ears .” 

Juleka blushed again, and sighed. “It’s a good thing we have practice today,” she muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Luka agreed. “I’m gonna be playing this out for days .” He frowned, and Juleka raised her eyebrows as his expression grew thoughtful. “There sure are a lot of akumas coming out of that school,” he said at last.

“Well, the mayor’s daughter does go there,” Juleka pointed out, rolling her eyes.

“True. I’m glad you didn’t end up going there. Still.” He shook his head slightly. “Maybe we should go over there sometime and...I dunno. Investigate.” He cringed slightly at the sound of himself. He was good at making plans in the moment, but when it came to the larger goal of capturing Hawkmoth over time, he felt pretty deficient. 

Juleka pretended not to notice his insecurities. “It might be worth it, I guess,” she shrugged, and then gave him a sharp look. “And if we just so happen to run into a pretty blue-eyed, black-haired girl—”

“Or a blonde,” Luka grumbled, picking at the rips in his jeans.

“I don’t know if you’re a genius or an idiot,” Juleka muttered, and then sighed. “All right. I’m in.” 

 ***

A few days later, Juleka texted him a flyer. Gaming Tournament 15/2, at Collège Françoise Dupont, students 13+ from other schools welcome! Luka had agreed that it was the perfect time to investigate. They’d have a reason to be there, and they’d be able to go as civilians, not Misterbug and Lady Violette. Going as superheroes would mean the public would be watching— Hawkmoth would be watching. There would be more breathing room as Juleka and Luka Couffaine.

On the inside, Collège Françoise Dupont seemed fine. The hallways were clean, the furniture was in good shape, and the adult who greeted them at the door seemed perfectly pleasant. 

The gaming tournament was held in the library, with a big projector screen on one wall with rows and rows of audience chairs. The two gamers would sit on two separate seats near the front, with everybody watching them. Luka realized that he might not want to play a round, with all those strangers staring at him, but he signed up his name on the registration sheet anyway.

The room was dark to accommodate the bright screen, so Luka actually couldn’t distinguish the faces that were not directly in front of him. It made him feel more at ease, at least. “Have you seen Rose?” he asked.

“Not so loud,” Juleka hissed, socking him in the shoulder. Luka laughed good-naturedly, even though it hurt. “She could overhear you and then wonder how I know her name.”

“Hey, I just thought you wouldn’t want me to say ‘blonde pixie—’”

“Shut up,” Juleka replied with a huff. “Come on, let’s sit in the back.”

“Sure,” Luka agreed, deciding that he had filled his annoying sibling quota for the day already. He followed her into the back row, which was currently empty.

“Hey, that’s her,” Juleka said, and Luka followed her gaze to find Rose. Rose was talking animatedly to another student and holding a gaming controller. She must be going in the next round, which meant that Juleka would be distracted for the next ten minutes. Maybe now would be a good time to leave the room and scout around a bit.

“I’m gonna look around a bit,” he told Juleka, who nodded and gestured him off. He considered saying something along the lines of we’re not here just to watch pretty girls play video games but then decided against it. It was not like there was an akuma, after all. It was okay to let Juleka have fun for a night.

Luka slipped out into the hallway just before the next round started, letting out a sigh of relief the moment that he was on the other side of the door. The bustling atmosphere of the gaming room wasn’t a bad thing, per se, but he certainly lost his taste for it after a while. Especially since it was a room full of strangers.

After he took a moment to calm his breathing, he tried to think of what he should be investigating. How far could he wander and still be able to claim that it was to ‘look for the bathroom’? Maybe just this first floor, then.

“Can I help you find anything?”

He recognized that voice. Of course he recognized that voice.

Luka schooled his facial expression into something neutral and unaffected before he turned around. “I was just getting some air,” he told her. “Thank you, though.”

“I understand,” she said. It was a little surreal, seeing her in a quiet environment. There was no akuma threatening her or the rest of Paris. It was just the two of them in an empty hallway, and she had absolutely no idea who he was. “Sometimes it gets a bit too loud for me in there, too! Are you a student here? I’ve never seen you before.”

Luka only let it hurt his feelings a little bit. “No, I’m not,” he told her. “Um, we actually came because my sister was thinking of transferring here. Do you…do you like it here? Are the students nice?” The concept of Juleka transferring to this school was only a half-lie. On her worst days, when she’d come back from school with a clear air of frustration, she’d mutter about transferring somewhere better. Certainly never to Collège Françoise Dupont, though.

She lit up, as though it was the best question that she had ever been asked. He found himself proud that he had been the one to put that expression there. “Oh! Yes! I’d say that the majority of students here are super sweet! There are a few students who…struggle with manners, I suppose, but I think it’s dealt with well. I’ve also heard that there’s less drama in the other classes. I happen to have a few… conflicting personalities in mine. What’s your sister’s name? I should introduce myself.”

“Her name’s Juleka. She’s a little shy,” he said. He wondered about this class of hers. Was the mayor’s daughter in it, like Juleka suggested? How many of them made up the akumatizations? Luka debated the social etiquettes of it, and then asked, “What’s yours?”

“Oh! I’m Marinette.”

“Luka,” he introduced himself in return. Marinette. It was a pretty name for a pretty girl. “Well, I’m certainly honored to have met you, Marinette.”

Something about his words made her stumble, but she seemed to recover quickly. “Have I… have I met you before?” she asked.

Luka paused.

Yes. He wanted to say. You’ve met me in my superhero form. But he knew better.

“I’m...not sure.” he answered instead. “I don’t think so.”

Marinette shrugged, and wrapped a lock of her hair around her finger. “Oh, okay. For some odd reason, your face looked familiar,” she explained. 

Satisfied with her answer, Luka nodded, then stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Are you playing in the tournament?” he decided to ask. Marinette’s face lit up once again, and Luka couldn’t help but suppress a tiny smile at how cute she was.

“Oh yes! I’ve actually loved to play video games since I was a little girl! Are you playing in the tournament?” she asked. Luka nodded in return.

“I’m not that great at gaming though. Not really anyone in my family. We’re more music-oriented.” he said. 

“Music? Do you play any instruments?” Marinette asked, and Luka internally winced at how off-topic the conversation had gone. After all, he had come here to investigate the number of Hawkmoth akumatizations, not chat about instruments. Nevertheless, he answered. 

“Yeah. I play the guitar—actually both Juleka and Ma do too.” He answered. Marinette nodded, an awkward silence falling over them.

Gesturing back to the hallway that led back to the library, Luka shuffled his feet a bit. “Well I should go back in there now,” he smiled, “Since the tournament is done, you know.” he said. Marinette chimed in a ‘me too’, and the two walked silently to the library. Parting ways at the doorway. Luka quickly paced to Juleka, who was still ogling at Rose, and tapped her on the shoulder.

“The game’s over, Jules. You don’t have to keep staring at her like that, y’know.” he said, rolling his eyes, and Juleka turned around and shot him an irritated look. 

“You didn’t have to say that so loud, you know.” she mumbled, causing Luka to smile. “Anyways, see anything interesting while you were looking around?” she asked. Luka shrugged and shook his head. 

“Not really. Met Marinette though,” he smiled, a grin appearing as he recited Marinette’s name.

“Who’s— oh.” the words dying in Juleka's throat, as she saw the dark-haired blue-eyed girl grab a game controller and a nametag with the name ‘Marinette’ on her.

“So that’s why you didn’t see anything worthy to investigate. You were distracted. ” Juleka smirked, and Luka gave her a look TM . “Anyways, this school seems pretty tame. The only thing that hints upon the reason for the number of akumatizations that happen here is the mayor’s daughter—Chloe Bourgeois. I heard a few kids talking about her here. A real big drama queen—and a huge school bully.” Juleka shrugged, and Luka nodded. That made a lot of sense. But it wouldn’t really help in the long run finding Hawkmoth. Perhaps Hawkmoth’s civilian identity was linked to some students at this school. Or maybe he worked here. That would be a valid reason for him targeting most students at this school.

Luka jerked suddenly as his name was called, and he turned around automatically. The organizer was standing at the front with a clipboard and—and Marinette was approaching him. Luka’s gaze snapped up to the board they had set up and saw his name across from Marinette’s.

Oh— 

“I’m going to kill you slowly,” Luka said conversationally as Juleka began snickering behind him. “Tikki, what the hell happened to that whole ‘good luck’ schtick?”

There was a high-pitched but quiet giggle from his hood. “It all depends on your point of view, doesn’t it,” Tikki whispered as Luka made his way mechanically to the front. 

He was going to have to play in front of all these people, and against her , and oh this was possibly the worst idea he’d ever had. 

“Don’t worry,” Marinette smiled at him as he sat next to her. “I’ll go easy on you.” She winked, and smirked , and Luka was pretty sure his soul departed the building at that point.

His body, however, was still stuck there, and he tried to get his head in the literal game so he didn’t look like too much of a fool. 

Marinette was really good, though. Luka had good reflexes and excellent hand-eye coordination, but damn . Some detached part of his brain noticed that Marinette was a tactical thinker, and he had to appreciate that. He wondered briefly what she would do with, say, the mouse miraculous, that they rarely used because it was physically weak but in the hands of someone like Marinette, it might really be— 

He stared at the flashing screen dumbly for a moment before he realized that his thrashing was finally over. He mustered up a grin for Marinette and turned to congratulate her, and froze when she held her hand out to him. 

He had never touched her without his suit in the way. 

But if he didn’t, she would think he was a sore loser and—

Luka swallowed and shook her hand awkwardly. Her hand was tiny in his.  

“Good game,” he managed to say, letting go of her as quickly as he could. 

“You did pretty good!” Marinette smiled encouragingly. “Especially if you don’t play that regularly.” She made a face and Luka felt his own turning red. “Sorry you had to go up against me in the first round, though. Luck of the draw, I guess!”

“It’s all good, I was only playing for fun anyway,” Luka said, hoping he sounded, if not smooth, at least natural . “It was kind of a whim. Sometimes I just get these crazy ideas, and you know, why not?” He clenched his teeth against any more babble. 

“It’s good to be spontaneous,” she said kindly, and Luka tried to think of a way to make a quick exit. He didn’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea to meet her in his civilian identity, she must think he was so lame—

Her head tilted slightly and she gave him that look again. “Are you sure we haven’t met before?” she said, scrutinizing his face, and Luka was suddenly looking at her lips and remembering how she’d kissed his cheek the last time he’d saved her and he needed to get out of there now .

“Uh...I mean well— you wouldn’t know!” Luka managed to stutter out, but then slammed his out shut, realizing what he had just said. 

Idiot. 

He had practically given himself away! Sweating nervously, Luka glanced around— anywhere but at Marinette’s face —to find an escape.

“Wait... what?” Marinette asked, bewildered. “What do you mean?” she asked, slowly, as realization struck on her face.

Crap! He felt a hard tug on the back of his hair and knew that Tikki was also freaking out back there in his hood. Ugh, he had to do something!

Luka fidgeted nervously, panic coursing through his veins. He silently prayed that somehow an akuma would appear so he could leave. Fortunately, luck was on his side as a bell rang through the school indicating that an akuma had appeared. Finally. 

“I s-should really get going! Ma doesn’t like it when J-Jules and I stay out during akumas!” Luka rambled, running up to Juleka, and grabbed her hand. Marinette pulled a skeptical face as she saw Luka leave. 

“What was that all about?” asked Juleka, as the two ran into an alleyway to transform.

God, he was so screwed.

#quickspins #collab fic #lbsc sprint fic #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

[cyhyr]

Whumpmas In July: "I Can't"

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka; Mizuki/Umino Iruka

WC: ~4990

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Notes: Deception, Drugging, Prison Break, Dissociation, Rough Oral Sex, Conditioning, Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Character Death, Triggers, Hair-pulling, Violence, Kidnapping

A/N: This story follows a Non-Linear Narrative, for the most part.

A sequel to “Secret”

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

~

The day Umino Iruka walked into the clinic seeking therapy was the day Rikona changed her plans to fit her new narrative. Sure, she’d been next and available to take patients, standing right at the check-in desk as he filled out his paperwork; and normally, there was a day or two in-between registration and the first session, just so the team of psychiatrists and therapists could best review the potential case and match the best team with the patient. But none of that mattered. She was going to take Umino Iruka, and as soon as he finished filing his intake forms, she took the thin folder right out of Aiko’s hands.

“Right this way, Umino-sensei.”

“I prefer to be addressed with my given name,” he said on the walk to her office.

“Of course, Iruka-sensei. I’m Rikona.”

It’s so simple to establish a baseline with Umino. He wants to tell someone about his story, he wants to get better, but he doesn’t have the words for it and he doesn't know how to get there. She gently prompts him along, learning his past and keeping him from dissociating—she finds out in the first session that good is not a word Iruka can hear in certain contexts. She discovers trauma hidden in every corner of his life, coloring every interaction he’s had since he was eleven. She hears about Naruto and how Iruka’s as good as adopted him, even if the village won’t let it be official; and about Kakashi, the partner who suggested Iruka seek out counseling, yet forgoes his own mental health.

Really, it’s not hard to understand him.

So they have a couple of sessions and it’s working well. She’s getting to know him, while at the same time getting him to trust her and tell her more about his story.

But after only a few sessions, he is captured and tortured and she has to make a hospital visit when he's inevitably brought home—by none other than Hatake Kakashi. And of course, Hatake doesn’t leave his side throughout the hospital stay except for required psychiatric consults. Umino comes out the other side of his captivity with minor injuries and almost no backslide on his mental health progress.

Rikona gives herself much of the credit for that. To Hatake, she initially gives a modicum of a nod; he’s certainly present.

~

Iruka trips for the third time in almost as many minutes, and puts a palm to his temple. “Rikona-sensei, is there somewhere I can sit down for a moment?”

She looks back at him, brows raised. “Another dizzy spell?”

He nods.

Rikona leads him to a bench and lets him sit, guiding his head to rest in his palms, his elbows braced on his thighs. She had said that they were going to go straight to the Hokage Tower, but the hospital never felt this far away before. It feels like he’s been walking for over an hour.

“How much longer to the Tower?” he asks.

“Not too much,” she says. “Ten minutes.”

That. That doesn't sound right. The hospital is only a fifteen minute walk from the Tower. Why have they been walking for so long?

He lifts his head and looks around, but the wooded park they’re in looks like any other in Konoha. “Rikona-sensei, why are we in a park?”

“You asked for a little time to make sure the medication I gave you is in full effect before speaking to Tsunade-sama,” Rikona answers quickly. “Do you not remember?”

The world is still spinning. He carefully shakes his head before putting his head back down. “Are these dizzy spells also a side-effect?”

“Unfortunately, yes. You may have to just power through them.”

Iruka groans. “Okay, let’s keep going, then.”

Rikona offers her hand to help him stand, and her elbow to keep him steady as they walk.

The trees go by.

The sounds of the village fade away.

~

And then they find out that the Sato event traumatized Hatake. And honestly? She kept her cool in the meeting, but that night when she’s home, she has herself a good laugh. The man went and got himself traumatized over someone who he’s been manipulating for months, if not years? She’s not heard of a successful Reverse Stockholm syndrome; it’s hilarious.

But she also harbors a deep-set anger because it was under Hatake’s watch that Umino went and took that mission—he’s not an active field agent, shouldn’t be in the field, it should have never happened. It was under Hatake’s watch that the Sato incident occurred.

And then Umino talks about moving. And Rikona knows. This is the time. He’s asking for her advice, blushing as he talks about someday asking Hatake to move in together. But Hatake’s influence has been nothing positive and she knows exactly who Umino should be seeing instead.

She knows because she’s been covering for his usual therapist for over seven months and she’s a professional. She knows how to recognize abusers, manipulators. She can form an emotional connection with a carrot if it needs therapy—she’s good.

So when Mizuki tells her about his old boyfriend, this wonderful man he misses so dearly, who has never once visited him in prison; Rikona resolves to be the one to help this man, her patient, receive closure at the least—or reunite long lost lovers at best.

She knows she’s making the right decision. She knows Mizuki is good for Iruka. She knows because when she told him about what happened to Umino, she could hear his heart break.

“That’s why I never let Iruka take missions without me, see? Because I knew things like this could happen, and I care about him—Rikona, I care so very much—I could never have forgiven myself if something like this had happened to him while we were together.”

And no one can fake that tone, those heart-wrenching sobs, the tears, oh gods the tears.

Together they make a plan. And she’s so happy to help him, so happy that she’s essential to his reunion with Umino. Mizuki says it himself; without her, the plan could never be implemented. She even lets him write the first letter, so Umino can hear his words straight from his own hand.

And on her way out of the prison that day, she grabs a few forms, and some extra envelopes, and if one happens to be a request for a conjugal visit, well… Mizuki’s been alone for so long. The least Umino can do is reconsider.

...

(She didn’t know what that first letter said until Iruka-sensei brought it to her office, feeling like he could dissociate at any moment and experiencing a moderate anxiety attack. When she read it, she felt a sting of doubt, like maybe Mizuki wasn’t how she’d diagnosed him. But then she remembers Hatake, and how Mizuki says he changes things to fit his stories; and she realizes that this note must have been tampered with before it reached Iruka-sensei.)

~

The prison break for one goes like this.

It starts seven months prior, with the head psychiatrist for the hospital getting swamped with paperwork and a sudden flood of new patients, and it’s only her, Rikona, and one other therapist working the clinic lately. Tomi-sensei asks—practically begs—Rikona to take her prison shift on Fridays, that they’ll shut down the clinic except for emergencies. It’s only until further notice, only until Tomi-sensei can hire another psychiatrist, or at least another therapist.

When Rikona gets to the prison, the guard is wary at first—she'd already been there that week—but after a quick explanation he waves her through. She's been treating inmates in the East Wing for months prior, so she knows her way through security. But Tomi-sensei treats inmates in the West Wing. Three inmates, specifically.

The first she sees for an hour and a half. The first half hour is talk therapy, the last hour she oversees his electroconvulsive therapy. The second receives a cocktail of anti-psychotics, mood stabilizers, a tranquilizer, and extra medicine to help with the side-effects of all these. Then, Rikona sits with them and talks for an hour. After that, she breaks for lunch. Finally, the third inmate of the West Wing; who receives one large dose of a mood stabilizer, and two hours of therapy.

Two hours a week, for seven months. Sometimes she stays later if the story he’s telling is particularly riveting, and she thinks that his telling of the story will help him.

But at the end of the day, she signs off on all three patients, carefully writing Tomi-sensei’s name in place of her own. Tomi trusts her judgement, and her conscience is clear. All three patients are steadily improving, some at slower paces, but improvement nonetheless. Rikona bills the hours in her own name, though; Tomi can take the credit for their health, but she needs to pay her mortgage.

So it’s easy to check out one of the East Wing prisoners for electroconvulsive therapy that Monday when she heads in. And she’s been working in the prison for years, so security knows her, and the East Wing prisoners are minimum security risks anyway—Rikona, thin and small as she is, picks an old woman to lead to therapy. And if the room for electroconvulsive therapy is in the West Wing, well security knows that Rikona knows her way around there, too.

The old woman is feeble, slow, gentle. The prison system broke her years ago. The poor thing doesn’t need to be shocked into submission. That’s not why Rikona brought her along.

There’s a seal she knows—the only advanced bit of chakra use she ever learned, before she determined that the shinobi way wasn’t her way—which can render a person invisible for a short time. She knows that the loss of his ability to mold chakra is very hard on Mizuki, and so when she leads the old woman into his cell and gives him the premade seal, she returns the grin he gives her.

“It’s time,” she says.

“You have him?”

“He’s all yours, Mizuki. You just have to promise to be careful. Whatever’s been done, he’s—”

“Rikona-sensei, I could never hurt him.” She presses the tag to his chest and he disappears.

She closes the door to the cell, leaving the woman in there alone, and walks away.

Confidently, she strides through the halls of the prison. She waves to the security personnel she knows. And then she gets back to the woman’s cell, and pushes another tag onto it—one to keep the door locked for good. They won’t be realizing that she’s gone for hours, if not days. They only use the flap at the bottom of the door to push her meals inside, and the tag leaves that part alone, she makes sure of it.

She toes it, just a little, just to be sure. It sways.

Rikona walks out the front doors, Mizuki a silent, invisible presence behind her.

~

Does she feel bad for lying to her client?

Gods, yes.

But it’s for his own good.

Hatake is a terrible, manipulative elitist. He doesn’t deserve someone like Iruka-sensei.

They’re five minutes from her home, a wooden cabin she maintains deep in the forests outside of the village. It’s there that the medication takes full effect and Iruka-sensei collapses. She’s so much smaller than him, and he’s heavier than he looks, but she pulls him onto her back and drags his feet along the ground and up the stone steps and into the house.

She’s careful, laying him down on the rug in front of the fireplace. It’s warm, so she doesn’t feel the need to start a fire. He’ll stay unconscious for a few hours, just until after sunset. She puts a blanket within reach, just in case he wakes up before they get back.

And then she leaves to collect Mizuki.

~

Kakashi doesn’t know how to explain it.

But something’s wrong.

There’s an odd scent in the air.

He had been heading to Iruka’s house, but he sighs and turns around to head back to the Tower. He’s still not going to take that mission, but he needs to talk to Tsunade.

~

Rikona watches as Mizuki strokes Iruka’s face tenderly. She’s making dinner in the kitchen and they’re laying side-by-side on the rug in front of the fireplace, now lit and warming the cabin. Her heart swells to see them together again after all this time, and she hopes that Hatake hasn’t poisoned Iruka-sensei’s memories so much that he can’t remember the good times he had with Mizuki.

They look good together.

Iruka-sensei hasn’t woken up yet, but she checked his vitals when they came back and he’s coming back to himself. They had pulled his vest and weapons off of him and set them on the couch once they got back, so he could lay more comfortably. He should wake any minute.

~

“A bad feeling?”

“A bad scent.”

“Like an intruder?”

“I don’t know. Very likely.”

Tsunade steeples her fingers. “Track it. Do not engage. Report back.”

Kakashi nods and turns to leave.

“It could be Akatsuki,” she warns. “Be careful.”

Kakashi is gone as soon as she finishes her sentence.

~

This isn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to be a part of this. This isn’t love.

Rikona can’t believe she was so thoroughly duped.

~

The pack at large doesn’t know the scent he’s trying to convey to them. All he can say to describe it is wrong and bad and that can describe any fucker who hits their partner or child, or any stall vendor who deliberately raises their prices for a certain kind of person, or—

“The ripe, rancid one?” Pakkun asks, growling.

And those are the words he’s been searching for, yes. The rest of the pack catches that same scent and readies themselves.

“That’s the one. What is it?”

“That’s the prisoner Iruka-Boss fought a while back, when the prison had that major breakout.”

Kakashi’s stomach flips and his spine chills.

Mizuki.

~

“You’re awake.”

Mizuki puts his hand over Iruka’s mouth to keep him from crying out, leans over and whispers in his ear, “You could never get away from me, don’t start trying now.” The tears glistening in the corners of his eyes shimmer in the firelight and he looks beautiful when he cries. Mizuki dips his head and kisses Iruka’s neck, relishing the whimper he receives.

He removes his hand, knowing he has Iruka’s obedience.

“You’re not real,” he mutters. “This isn’t real. It’s-It’s a side-effect. Of the m-medication.”

“Oh, baby, this isn’t a dream,” Mizuki lifts himself to hover over Iruka, pressing the length of his body along the tan one on the floor. “I’m here. I’m here to stay.” He shoves his knees in-between Iruka’s thighs and rolls his hips. “Hmm, missed this. Missed you. Did you miss me, too, baby?”

“Get off,” Iruka hisses.

Mizuki grins and presses his teeth to Iruka’s neck. “Don’t mind if I do.”

~

Kakashi sends half of the pack to find Iruka, and the rest follow Mizuki’s scent.

He goes to the prison; he needs to check himself. He needs Pakkun to be wrong.

The security personnel confirm that prisoner 834-769 is in his cell. Been there all morning. There’s no log of him being taken out. Kakashi doesn’t growl, but asks if someone can go down to the cell and give him visual confirmation.

“Chakra confirmation is sufficient when there’s no cause for alarm,” he’s told.

Chakra confirmation???

“The fucker has no ability to mold chakra! And there is cause for alarm,” he grits through his teeth. “My pack caught his scent outside. I need visual confirmation of his presence in his cell now.”

Security at least pretends to take him seriously. They send a team down to the West Wing and Kakashi considers following them.

And then a bone-chilling howl echoes outside, and Kakashi doesn’t care about visual confirmation. Because the howl is the one that says scent lost and it’s coming from Bull’s half of the pack, the half that’s supposed to find Iruka—

And if they lost his scent—

Kakashi bolts.

~

Rikona leaves them to reacquaint in the living room. She steps outside. The stew will be alright on its low heat, and the rice still has plenty of time left to steam.

The stars are nice. The moon is waning from full, and she pulls a throw blanket tighter around her shoulders. In the distance, she can hear wolves howling and smiles softly.

It’s such a nice night.

~

He can’t explain it. He doesn’t stop to try, to tell an ANBU patrol what he’s doing, or to find Gai or anyone else.

The look on the security guard’s face was enough. No one will believe him if he tells them that Mizuki has something to do with Iruka’s disappearance. Hell, no one will likely believe him if he tells them that Iruka’s missing. After the Sato incident—and his reaction afterwards; he can admit that he was being a little overprotective—no one will take him seriously.

Kakashi has to do this by instinct. He has the pack flanking him, leading him along the ripe, rancid scent. They understand without him explaining, thank the gods.

Iruka is pack. This knowledge is as an intrinsic part of him as his family name, as chidori, as his loyalty to Konoha. More than this, the deeper part of him recognizes Iruka as his and recognizes the reciprocal possession Iruka holds on his very being.

Whether he knows it or not, Iruka owns him.

Boss’s Boss, indeed.

~

Mizuki hears the door shut behind Rikona as she leaves. He puts his mouth over Iruka’s, and when his lips won’t part he pulls on Iruka’s hair knowing that it will force a gasp as well as remind Iruka whose he is. He pushes his tongue into Iruka’s mouth when it opens and rolls his hips faster. With his other hand—the one not busy with the hair—he reaches to his crotch and pulls down the front of his prison pants and frees his dick. He fights with Iruka’s pants, and then lowers those too and eventually grabs both of them together in his fist.

Iruka’s limp. That’s fine. He’s used to working with that.

Iruka winces into their kiss, muttering, “Stop.”

“None of that. You know better.”

Iruka turns away. “I said, stop.”

Mizuki lets go of his own dick and pinches Iruka’s, watching him wince and hold back tears and bite his bottom lip.

“You know I don’t like that word. You don’t get to tell me to stop.” He grabs them both and strokes. “There, isn’t that better?”

“No, please—I can’t—I don’t want—”

Mizuki pulls his hair harder, twists his fist in the strands, and Iruka relaxes and his eyes turn glassy and there he goes. Mizuki grins, bites at Iruka’s mouth, and says, “Beg me to touch you.”

The response comes like the last two and a half years never happened. “Touch me,” Iruka murmurs.

“Tell me you missed me.”

“Missed you, ‘Zuki.”

“Aww, baby. Don’t worry. I’ll make you feel good.”

~

Kakashi runs through the forest behind the hospital and another sinking feeling hits his belly.

Rikona-sensei was supposed to be in charge of Iruka’s care.

But if Iruka’s missing.

Where’s Rikona-sensei?

“Pakkun.”

“Boss.”

“You know Iruka’s therapist?”

“Yeah. She went this way, too.”

Mizuki took them both. Fuck.

~

“Want to suck my cock, baby?”

Iruka comes back, just for a moment, just long enough to get the n sound of his answer. Mizuki tugs his hair again—training Iruka to become his personal little slut at the pull of his hair was the most brilliant idea Mizuki had ever had; he pats his own back every day he remembers the time he spent on it. And, damn it took time. Iruka never liked having his hair pulled, so the pain and the sex and his never-ending desire to please Mizuki combined together to make a perfect storm. And it still took months, almost a year, of hair-pulling and ordering Iruka around to condition him into the perfect whore.

And now, thanks to Rikona, he’s got that back.

He pulls himself up to the couch and sits, slides his pants to his thighs, and guides Iruka into position over his cock. There’s still tears on his lashes, and that’s just fucking perfect.

Mizuki’s been using his hand for over a year, and Tsubaki’s cunt before that.

Nothing compares to Iruka’s throat.

“Oh, good boy,” he groans as Iruka slides down over him. It’s tight, hot, wet—perfect—he put so much work into training this slut to take him and blow him right and two years isn’t enough time for Iruka to forget it seems, because he gets to slurping and tonguing and bobbing his head like he never left Mizuki’s legs.

~

Rikona stops in the doorway, blinking.

Iruka-sensei has dissociated. Mizuki seems to be aware of this, yet isn’t trying to get him to come back. In fact, he’s using Iruka-sensei’s mouth as-as—

She turns and goes back outside, closing the door quietly behind her.

She looks up at the night sky and suddenly the stars don’t feel so relaxing.

~

“My sweet, good boy, sucking me soo good. Look at you. Right where you belong.”

He remembers what he’s heard about Hatake from Rikona. What a joke. “As if blowing someone else could ever change who owns you.”

Iruka whimpers. Gods that sound fucking drives him crazy.

“Who owns you, baby?”

Iruka pulls off of him, just enough. “You, Mizuki.”

“Fuck, missed this.” He pushes Iruka back down, hits the back of his throat and keeps going. He takes Iruka’s hair in both hands and moves his head for him; Iruka isn’t going fast enough to get him off. This way, though, “You’re mine, baby. So good. Mine, mine, mine—FUCK!”

He shoots down Iruka’s throat.

The first time they did this, Iruka had spat it out. Mizuki made sure he never did that again. He knows that Iruka throws up later, once he comes back to himself; but whatever. Right now, he’s swallowing down Mizuki’s come, his throat working his pulsing cock and it feels great. He pulls back near the end of his orgasm, and lets the last pulses of come splash on Iruka’s lips and chin, watching it drip down his neck.

The tears are falling freely, but Iruka will stay on his knees until Mizuki tells him to get up. Fucking beautiful.

~

Why would Mizuki take both of them?

It doesn’t make sense.

Iruka, obviously. Mizuki’s had it out for Iruka since they were twelve, if not younger.

But why Rikona-sensei? If nothing else, he should have killed her. They should have found a body.

They still haven’t picked up on Iruka’s scent. There’s a third scent, but it’s muddled and weird and Kakashi can’t place it.

“Boss.”

“Akino.”

“Smoke, up ahead.”

“That’s where they are.”

He knows it in his bones. In his soul. He’d bet his life on it.

… He’s also betting Iruka’s life on it. The pack is already at top speed, but for this last sprint they all push just a little more.

~

Rikona walks off the porch and down the path. She’s reviewing the last four months of therapy sessions with Iruka-sensei in her head, and the last seven months with Mizuki, wondering where she went wrong. She hugs her arms tight to her body and watches her feet.

Hatake-san is an elitist. A genius, gifted child who advanced through the ranks too quickly and thinks too highly of himself. He’s Friend-Killer Kakashi, known for leaving a teammate for dead, for putting his own fist through the girl who loved him for the sake of a mission. He’s manipulative, and known for reading porn in public, and tampers with his partner’s mail, and-and-and—

She’s reaching.

She knows she’s reaching.

Oh gods, what has she done.

~

Kakashi watches Rikona stop on the path and begin to shake. He slides out of the tree silently beside her, and says, “Yo, Rikona-sensei.”

She gasps, startled. “Hatake—”

“Where’s Iruka?”

She points to the cabin behind her. “Please, I didn’t know. He lied to me.”

“Hmm?”

“He told me you were bad for him. He told me that he missed Iruka-sensei. He cried when I told him about Sato.” Rikona bites her lip. “How did he fake that? Did he fake that?”

“I’ll deal with you later.”

“I’ll turn myself in.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Kakashi says. He glares at her, exposing the sharingan for full threat. “If he’s hurt, you get hurt.”

~

“We should go to Water Country,” Mizuki sighs, slipping his dick back into Iruka’s mouth. “They’ve got good clubs out there. I could make a lot of coin selling the use of your throat.”

Iruka’s so far gone, so far down, he doesn’t even react.

“And with the ocean and all, your vomiting won’t be so off-putting each night.”

The door breaks open and a pack of mutts crash through the windows around him. Mizuki pulls out of Iruka’s mouth, reaches in Iruka’s weapon pouch beside him for a kunai. He may not have the ability to mold chakra anymore, but that doesn’t change how well a blade can slice through the delicate life beating in a person’s neck. Mizuki pulls Iruka to his lap and has him cover his body, pressing the kunai under his jaw.

“I wouldn’t,” he warns. Hatake stalks into view, coming around the couch. “I promise, I’ll kill him faster than you or your mutts can get to me.”

One hand on the kunai, the other around Iruka’s waist. He doesn’t even need to keep a hand in his hair now. Iruka’s his.

He put in the time.

He put in the effort.

He built Iruka.

He sneers at Hatake. “You and your mutts can leave.”

“Not without him.”

“Iruka? Tell Hatake to leave.”

“Please leave, Hatake-san.”

Oh, that was good. Like he was slapped, Hatake flinches; just barely, but Mizuki catches it. That was nice. Worth a reward.

“Good boy, baby,” Mizuki purrs. He bites Iruka’s shoulder, relishing the soft whimper.

~

He’s under. He’s so far under and Kakashi has to be careful or he won’t get Iruka back.

This wasn’t a warning Rikona gave him; that came from Tomi-sensei a few weeks back, when she heard about one of the dissociation episodes he’d experienced during the Sato incident. He can’t trust anything Rikona has ever told him now, but Tomi-sensei never had a hand in Iruka’s care and so is objective.

He motions for the pack to stand down.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Mizuki says. “Don’t leave. Just stay still.”

He takes the kunai away from Iruka’s neck and aims it at Kakashi.

He won’t hit him; Kakashi’s faster than anything he can throw. This is perfect. This is his chance.

He just has to be careful.

Iruka could still not come back if he’s not careful.

~

The bite of a blade against his neck is odd, but familiar. The slosh of come in his stomach is uncomfortable, but familiar. The taste of musk and come on his tongue is gross, but familiar.

Mizuki’s rumble against his back is nice and familiar.

Slipping into following Mizuki’s orders is simple. It’s easy.

The pain of his hair being pulled. The claustrophobic sensation of being boxed in as Mizuki hovers over him. Their bodies pressed together. His dick—pain—being stroked alongside Mizuki’s own length. It’s all familiar.

Falling is easy.

He can’t. He can’t handle being there anymore.

And then—

“Don’t move. Just stay still.”

The blade leaves his neck, and Iruka tracks it as Mizuki levels it at—

At—

Kakashi—

“Just sleep, dearest.”

“Please, Iruka, I wanna touch you please.”

“I like asking.”

“Please kiss me.”

“Hello, Love.”

“What do you need?”

“I will always come for you.”

“I will be wherever you want me to be.”

“Hello, Love.”

“Can I use the g-word tonight?”

“Hello, Love.”

“Hello, Love.”

“Hello, Love.”

And Iruka wakes up.

He reaches for the kunai out in front of him, disarms Mizuki and stands up out of his lap. He fights the vertigo, fights the chills chasing each other down his back and his arms.

He remembers the day he came home to Mizuki and Naruto, and how he put two kunai in him before kicking him out. He remembers the rage, seeing Naruto pull away from Mizuki like hot coals, remembers sending Naruto to hide in his own room because they had been in Naruto’s room; there was still a small blood stain on the floor of that apartment when he left, one he couldn’t clean up in time.

Mizuki can fuck with him all he’d like.

But he can’t fuck with Iruka’s family.

And maybe Mizuki couldn’t hit Kakashi with a kunai if he were point-blank. Maybe a thousand kunai couldn’t hit Kakashi if Mizuki were the one throwing them. It doesn’t matter.

Iruka’s been teaching Anatomy of a Kill and running disarming practicals for years. They can call him soft, and say his humanity is a weakness or a strength. He preaches the Will of Fire and he burns with it; he will protect that which is precious to him.

Naruto.

His own sanity.

Kakashi.

Whether or not it needs protecting, Iruka will be the shield.

He plunges the kunai into Mizuki’s chest, drags it through heart and liver, snapping ribs and muscle tissue as he goes, and settles the blade in Mizuki’s intestines. He stands over Mizuki as the life leaves his chest, gushing red and bloodying Iruka’s hands and clothes.

Mizuki’s eyes are dark with betrayal.

He whispers, “I will always own you.”

And then… and then he’s gone.

And Iruka breathes.

Gods.

I’m… I’m free.

#whumpmasinjuly #i can't #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu #my writing

[24-primaveras]

Pure Magic - ShiSaku

Title: Pure Magic 

Prompt(s) - Magic @shisakuweek​

Warnings: Adult Content/Smut 

Hi guys, sorry to post a fanfic so long around here I was going to post through AO3, but I only found out today that registration takes a week. When I get the approves there, I'll update it here by putting the link and also the link in Portuguese, in my spirit fanfics Bluefox203 profile.

Sorry for the english

                                         ───────•••───────

The first time I saw him, it was like my present stopped and, in slow motion, I watched his path cross mine. Standing in the wide centuries-old corridors of Konoha’s College, I admired his striking presence alongside his own, who at that moment I imagined were his family members for the magnanimous similarity they all had with their dark hairs and eyes as black as the darkness of the sky on a moonless day.

I knew it wasn't just me that they enchanted, the peculiar noise of the place seemed to diminish leaving space just for them. I could have aimed for any of them, however, his individuality captured my full attention. He wore the same sober vestments as the others; he walked with the same strength, however, looking at his eyes, I felt they were different and I had this confirmation when our irises crossed.

In that instant I knew that he had noticed me too, as strongly as I had, and squeezing the books in my arms, I allowed this connection to continue until his image left my field of vision, leaving me oblivious to the people around me, feeling just my heart racing, like a spell.

However, my stilted mind managed to capture from the rumble of students a word, which I didn't know at the time that would be my downfall - yet.

Uchiha. 

I whispered like a secret and the word landed heavily on my core.

[spoiler] I wanted to say that our second meeting happened as soon as I wanted, but it took me a while to actually see him again. Although his marked presence seemed to be with me from time to time, but I took this as a reverie of an anxious mind that sought to see him once again.

But the moment came, and in the midst of a university rite of passage where everyone gathered at dusk to celebrate the beginning of a new semester, I faced his piercing orbs once more. This time, I looked at him the way I had wanted to from the first time, completely. The extremely white skin, the messy hair, the tall and strong body marked by the black leather jacket, made him even more attractive. An aura I had never seen or felt, seemed to pulse from him to me, softening my legs and leaving me slightly breathless without even being touched. And, like an incantation, my body brought us closer and closer until we were only inches apart, making me hear for the first time his dense voice. "Enjoying the party, Sakura?" I didn't know how he was aware of my name, but that didn't matter because the way he said it was enough to make me wish he'd repeat it over and over again.  “Starting…” I said boldly, smiling along with him, moving even closer to his body. I didn't think about it much when I dared to touch him, however I had the need to feel that he was real and was really there at that moment, but my hand was stopped before I reached his handsome ​face. The grip on my wrist was firm, but it didn't hurt, and bending his body to equal the difference in height, he whispered close to my ear: “No need to be rushed, we will have all eternity.” My whole body reacted immediately to his speech and making my situation even worse, his nose touched my entire neck, making me shiver, only once to land next to my ear and pronounce: “It's not time yet…” He sounded husky, making me feel all his eagerness to have me just as I wanted him, squeezing my waist in a possessive way as he placed a single kiss on my burning skin. “See you around, pink flower.” When I realized I was alone, regaining consciousness of moments that seemed to have happened in a parallel reality. The places he touched still tingled, but I realized that unlike him, I didn't know his name. And this was something I only managed to unravel in our third meeting. Once again, in the midst of the cold of the lonely night, his figure was present and there I was sure that it was not a random event. Leaning against a stone wall, he was waiting for me and smirked as I got closer. Anyone in their right mind would have walked away and I knew there was something very wrong with me wanting to be with a complete stranger, but it felt so right; as if a magnet drew me to it. "I told you we'd see each other again." He uttered the words as if they seemed to be part of some prophecy. "Who are you? I still don't know your name." I cut off his next line hastily, seeking to allay my curiosity before I lost myself once more in his eyes. "I wouldn't have to tell you this, but I want to have the pleasure of hearing you calling for him next time." Would there be a next time then? “Shisui, you can call me Shisui." His words again captured my attention, and in a whisper I pronounced his name seeing a malicious smile forming on his face as he watched my naive act And that's exactly how I felt around him, a naive little girl who didn't know what to do around a man, but the sensations he awakened in me were far from being innocent. And like last time, I raised my right hand on an impulse but the moment I became aware of my act, I interrupted myself, yet at that moment his hand was against mine, encouraging me and making me rest my palm on his face. We stayed like that for a few moments, my hand being pressed between his face and fingers, which caressed my torso, causing me a familiar feeling, but at the same time unprecedented. Yes, it was something that felt so natural that we could stay like this for long moments, but unfortunately they didn't happen. I could only notice that his eyes had strayed from mine when a male figure appeared a few meters away from us. The man with long black hair nodded, as if calling to him. “I need to go now…” He spoke in frustration, making me realize that it wasn't just for me that cost our separation; but then his lips lightly brushed mine quickly, causing me to feel as if electricity were flowing between us. "And don't be alone so late, Sakura. The night hides what no one really wants to see." And once again he was gone quickly, seeming to disappear into the darkness of the night, leaving me behind with my whole body begging for more of his touch and his presence. Our contact had been brief, but enough for me to want more and more.  Feeling that has not left my body for days. I reached the point where I woke up feeling feverish at the mere memory of his touches inflaming my insides. Such was my desire that one night I dreamed of him and unlike other times, that one, I hadn't forgotten when I woke up. Everything seemed so real that in my daydreams I could count it as another one of our meetings. However, in my fantasy I was able to touch him as I wanted and he reciprocated in the same way. His strong hands went all over my body, slowly stripping me of my clothes to the point where I was completely naked in front of him.  My insides contracted with anxiety just from his hungry gaze on me and his erection pronounced into the dark pants.  "Lies down" he said bluntly, propelling my body towards the bed and I obeyed, positioning myself in the middle of the sheets, only to have the male figure on top of me after. The kisses started on my shoulders, and went down dangerously to my thighs, which were already squeezed deliciously by his hands. The contact of his lips with my dermis was already making me airy, and when he bit my thigh, I moaned slyly, not containing my excitation. That seemed to encourage him, because all his attention finally went where I really wanted it. He opened my intimacy with his fingers, leaving me exposed for his tongue to pass through the entire region, completely destroying my sanity. He looked hungry and took out all his desire to suck me lasciviously, hitting my clitoris, which was suffering deliciously against his mouth. Desperate, I brought my hands up to his hair, curling them there and somehow trying to get even more contact between us.  "Once again you're being rushed, my dear." There was a sarcastic tone in his voice as he pulled away from me, depositing his orbs in mine; they stared at me so intently that for a moment I thought I saw a red glow pass through them, but quickly ​he broke the contact, going back to work with his thirsty tongue on me. I couldn't take it anymore, it seemed that he was enjoying torturing me in that delicious way, taking me to the peak of pleasure with his precise movements, just to slow down the rhythm of his touches to see me suffer when I was robbed from his pleasure. “Please…” I beg once more. “Let me come, you're driving me crazy like this.” "Since you asked in that way, I can't refuse, honey," he said sharply, penetrating me one last time with his tongue moistening even more my entrance, which at that moment was throbbing with so much lust I was feeling. Even with the dimness of the room, I could contemplate the male body as he removed his jacket, exposing the strong arms pressed by the white shirt. The pants had the same fate as the other piece, and now the rigid penis marked the dark underwear even more. Without taking his eyes off me, he massaged his own cock through the fabric and when he finally removed the last piece of his body, he went back to masturbating in a heavy and lascivious way, closer to my intimacy. In a few moments he leaned the head of his member against me, moving his hand in a rhythmic way, transmitting for me some of the intense pleasure he was feeling. I was already on the edge of the cliff once more, and this time, he was willing to set me free; he positioned his cock in me and filled all my intimacy tortuously. However, perhaps because of the fury of the act, I awoke at that moment, breathless and frustrated with the very real illusion I had created. But the last spoke louder and desperate to be able to put an end to the feeling that was consuming me, I put aside any disappointment, taking my own fingers to my point of pleasure. Just like in the dream, I was soaked, and it only took me touching myself for all the sensations from moments before to come back. I hurriedly moved my digits over my femininity, seeking to repeat the circular motions his hot tongue made in me. Excitement trickled down my legs, and closing my eyes trying to find his image above me, I laid two fingers into my pussy and rubbed my clitories with my hand. "That, just like that, come for me." My delirium caused by the uncontrolled libido was so loud that I seemed to have heard his husky voice in my ear and like a good girl, I did exactly as I was told. “Shisui.”  I fell apart in my fingers screaming his name, feeling such intense pleasure as I had never before been able to bring myself. It had been so strong that after feeling my entire body flow in delicious spasms, I blacked out, yet at that moment nothing disturbed my sleep anymore. (..) And so the days went by, along with the semester, and when I realized we were already in the holiday season.  The campus was practically empty, with only a few people, who, like me, had no desire to be anywhere else enjoying, or rather pretending to enjoy, some plastic happiness, which came wrapped in a red gift box. No, the best thing would be to stay there, taking advantage of the cold December weeks to study for the final exams that would take place in a few days. Of course, when I found some concentration for it, as it seemed more and more difficult these past few months. Lovesick. Lovesick was the name my friends had given to my dazed state I found myself occasionally in, where I found myself thinking about him. I obviously denied such a fact, how could it be possible to fall in love with a person you had seen only a few times? I didn't even know anything about Shisui.... The only thing I knew was that he had taken my life off the rails every time we saw each other, and even the most skeptical of people would be enchanted by the brunette's dense eyes, which seemed to transmit more than a normal person could. I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts of him one more time, all of this really must have come from the damn crush like they said. Damn it lovesick! Taking my eyes outside, I finally realized that the whole night had already taken over, the day had passed completely and looking at the computer at that moment I glimpsed only two pages of the paper that I was supposed to hand in after the holidays. There was absolute silence in the library and no living soul wandered through that place. Focusing once more on the screen, I glimpsed the exact moment when the lights flickered and in front of me the image of the man had formed, however, this time it was not my imagination, Shisui really was there. I yelled in fright, quickly covering my mouth with my hands as the taciturn figure sat in the chair beside me. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." The speech was accompanied by a laugh and his hand holding mine, increasing our proximity even more.  I wanted to delight in his touch like the other times, but this time I realized how cold his hand had a low temperature. “You must be cold…” I tried lamely to cover his hands with mine. “No need to worry. I'm used to it... He smiled minimally, reversing the positions of our palms again, cuddling me, eliciting a sincere sigh from me.  "I missed you," I said, looking into the dark eyes I so loved to see. Maybe it really was lovesick. "I felt it too, but I've never been as far away as you think… Maybe you just didn't pay that much attention, Sakura." His speech, accompanied by the tone of voice, made me feel a chill down my spine, like a feeling of déjà vu. "Then what took you so long?" "I've already told you that each thing has its time, and I couldn't involve you in it before." In that? None of it made sense, and I felt more and more lost in a fog that seemed to prevent me from seeing something that was right in front of me. "You know, Sakura, don't be naive. You must have felt it already, no?" Another shiver ran through my body, and I felt as if something was desperately seeking to wake up. "Even if you try to deny it, you feel things you've never felt when I look at you or touch you, don't you?" And once again he touched me, but this time his target was the center of my forehead making me feel a tingle there as if everything around me became denser than before, making me drown in my own interior, however just like it started, it only took seconds for this sensation to leave my body, and then I felt serenity in its purest form. It could float, as if a layer that held me all my life had finally come apart. It was simply sublime. And when I refocused my vision, Shisui was smiling, making my heart race like never before. I could no longer sit still, heading towards the long window looking for air.  The scenery outside was all the darkness that that day didn't even have the moonlight. Soon he was at my side, startling me once again with his speed of appearing in the silence. “People always look for the brightest light at night and I truly understand why." He breathed out the words staring at me deeply. "But you know, the darkness also has its beauty that could be subtle to normal eyes, but if we admire it closely, there is much more than the surface hides. His body turned fully toward mine, and his hands went to my waist, holding me tight the way I craved. "Do you want to see this beauty with me?" His tone was serious and his gaze looked like it could swallow me up. "Are you ready, Sakura?" I could say that I needed time to answer his question, yet something inside of me seemed to have known the answer for a long time. “Yes”  I might be nervous about the unknown that would come with that statement, but pronouncing these three letters has never felt so right. Then it happened. His ever-so-black eyes turned a pure, intense crimson. My whole body shivered, making every fiber of my being tremble in anticipation of having him there, staring at me with that mixture of sensations, which ranged from fear to curiosity. Curiosity to understand, no, it was more than that, it was will. Willingness to be sucked more and more closer to him, who seemed to call me like a magnetic field, which attracted me more and more to him. Her skin might not transmit heat, but I felt getting hotter and desperate to be able to move out of that trance that his bright dancing irises had put me on. However, I would be lying if I said I wanted to get away; I wanted freedom so that I could move forward, get closer, and finally be able to resolve any doubts or questions that had already haunted my innermost thoughts. "Shi..." That was all I managed to utter through a pleading whisper. If the darkness that surrounded him worked at that moment, I would never know, but a mischievous smile that grew on his face and that gave me the vision of his elongated canines, caused something to grow inside of me, and he knew it. He knew of his effect on my body, that it clamored for his touch, and everything else he could give me, and I him. And I was ready for that, I would give him whatever he wanted. Because Shisui Uchiha was pure magic, and I just wanted a little bit of it. [/spoiler]

#shisaku #shisui #sakura #shisaku9621 #magic #vampire #allsaku #smut #+18

[lombredanslaeu]

𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒕 | l.taeyong

plot: a letter for lee taeyong - the love of your life and the tear in your heart.

genre: angst, fluff

warning: messy writing lol, explicit scene

word count: 2401

proofread: no

Dear Lee Taeyong,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’m not sure if I could ever gain the courage or the chance to say what I have to say to you. There are a lot of things I’m not sure about; one of which is how the universe crossed our paths. Was it just for the heaven’s comedy relief or was it because we were meant to find one another? I’m not sure which one I’ll believe. Nevertheless, I’m happy that day happened even if it’s cringy to look back at right now.

The university atrium was crowded with booths and students. Today was the first day of the organization recruitment week. Your brother told you about the joys of meeting new people by joining organizations that sparks your interest. So, you did not waste a second going to the busy fair.

You were currently lining up for the photography organization. To your dismay, there aren’t actually a lot of organizations that suits your interest. You enjoy taking photos and looking at them so you just opt for the photography org.

You were lost in your own world when a tap on your shoulder cut your reverie.

“Hey, I’m sorry to bother,” The man said. He was taller than you, his features were smooth & pristine almost like a Disney character. He also sported a pink shade on his hair. “Can I borrow your pen? I’m really rushing to get a slot on the performing arts org.”

You looked down at the pen that placed on the small pocket of your blouse. You weren’t in a hurry but he was. Being the kind person you are, you gave it to him.

“Sure, here.” You placed the pen on his hand.

He muttered a series of “thank you”’s before scurrying off to the really busy performing arts line.

You went back to your own reverie. When you reached the front table, your hand went to the small pocket of your blouse. Your fingertips failed to feel the slim pen and you mentally groaned. Now, you were the one who’s in need of a pen. You looked back at the distant performing arts booth but failed to spot the pink-haired duded who borrowed your pen.

You never saw him again for the next two weeks; he never crossed your mind anyway. That was until a shadow towered over you while you sat in seclusion at the back of the lecture hall.

“I’m sorry for running away with your pain.” The pink-hair dude spoke above you. The vibrant hue on his head faded into a soft, bubblegum pink. That shade suits him better. “I saw you looking around for me when it was your turn to fill out the registration sheet.”

With that, he placed a new pen on your desk. It was wrapped with a small ribbon.

“I was supposed to return it to you but I saw you getting annoyed and I felt so bad.” He explained further.

You chuckled at his gesture. Sure, that event annoyed you back then but now, it just became a funny memory.

“It’s no problem.” You said. “Thank you-”

“Taeyong.” He continued.

There’s so many things to love about you, Yongie. I could list all the things I adore about you. From the way you’re always supportive of the people around you to the way your eyes shine whenever you perform in the university auditorium and you suddenly spot your friends in the crowd. I could go on and on but this letter would probably be ten pages long and I only have so much ink left in this pen. Yes, the same pen you gave me the second time we met. I never used it until today. It held so much sentimental value that if I were to merely use it on a quiz or lecture notes, I would immediately feel guilty. Actually, I retract that statement. I used it one time to fill out the application form for the first job I’m applying to. I was surprised that it still works. I would have thought that the ink has dried out already; after all, it’s been hidden somewhere on my desk until the day I went to that job interview.

You don’t have much time left. Your body clock got used to sleeping at an ungodly hour and waking up during the middle of the day. Your interview starts at 8:20 AM and it was already 7:30 AM. You thanked yourself for showering the night before as you don’t need to do much.

You hurriedly packed your necessities. You always bring a pen with you whenever you go; and with that, you grabbed a random pen sitting on your pen holder.

For some miracle, you made it before 8:20 AM. The secretary gave out a form for you to fill out. You reached for the pen inside your purse. The small jewel decoration at the top of the cap was reminiscent of the smile of the person who gave the pen to you. It was as if this was Taeyong’s way of saying good luck. Whenever you went, he was always there with you.

But as there were many things to love, there were also many things to hate. I feel like we are now in the situation where I’m finally free to talk about these things to you. To be frank with you, we had all the reasons and chances to communicate and talk about these problems. The thing is: we never did. Maybe it was because we came to the terms that we were falling apart. I don’t blame you. I, too, was scared of what would result if we ever had that conversation. To say that I don’t regret not pushing myself to fix everything would be an understatement. I regret everything, Taeyong. I regret not talking to you and making you suffer. I regret ever putting you into that light. However, I cannot help but point the blame to our situation that night. You weren’t talking either and I felt like I shouldn’t exert effort into someone who clearly does not want to fight with me. Was that how you felt that night? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It would crush me to know that it was only me who refused to accept that I was wrong.

You waited for hours. Normally, Taeyong would be the one to initiate a resolution, to seek a middle ground between the two of you. The clock was ticking towards midnight. In ten minutes, the eerie silence between the two of you would turn five hours old. The words you threw at one another bounced back and forth in your head, as if the walls of your brain were the same walls of your shared apartment.

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

“I don’t need to listen when I already saw it with my two eyes!”

“Are you hearing yourself?”

“Stop trying to make it seem like this is my fault.”

“You’re blowing this all out of proportion, of course it’s your fault!”

Before, you and Taeyong were magic. Right now, nothing was sparking aside from the raging frustration between the two of you. It’s been four years of you and him being lovers. Have you outgrown each other this quickly? Why did the fire burn out so quickly and who turned a blind eye on it?

“We’re not gonna fix anything if we just ignore each other.” You spoke. It was the morning after the fight. While you found yourself asleep on the bed, you found Taeyong asleep on the couch. You felt bad, his height is no match for the space the couch could offer. The urge to fix everything was demanding to be felt so here you are, in front of the office he works at.

“You don’t listen to me so what’s the point?” He replied, the look of impatience washing over his face.

“I didn’t come here to form another fight, Taeyong.” You said in a exasperated voice. Taeyong could right through you. You wanted to fix what happened last night. Along with that came a tinge of fear in his heart. He’s scared that your proposition in fixing everything was to take a break or worse, break up. He doesn’t want that.

“Then, you shouldn’t have came here at all.”

What would you do when your ex suddenly calls you at 3:00 AM on a Saturday asking to hold you once more? You weren’t drunk so I believed everything that you said. That was my mistake. I failed to realize that alcohol isn’t the only thing that could make you do things out of your control. Loneliness is a dangerous drug as well. I have to admit that I slept with you not because I missed you but because I was afraid I would never feel loved again. Looking back now, I definitely came back running because I love you. Not because I miss you, but because I was pathetically in love with you and I was scared I don’t know how to stop it. I was willing to swallow my pride, to swallow everything my mother taught me about loving myself because I wanted to feel you with me again.

His hands roamed around your naked torso. Taeyong’s hand were different from the other boys who have touched you before. His lips fluttering kisses all over your neck. For a moment, it felt like you were his and he was yours again; even though the current circumstances tells you otherwise. Your shirt was the first to go, followed by your bra.

You knew the implications of your actions. But all rationality seemed to evacuate from your system the minute his cock bottomed out inside of you. Each hard thrusts signifies his longing and his need to be yours again. Although he can never say these things out loud, he sure did rely them on his actions. You felt like the universe is about to explode inside of you and finally, when it cracks, you get to see a slice of heaven. Taeyong leaned down to kiss your quivering lips, his breathing as deep as his thrusts.

“I bet no one could ever fuck you like this.” He spoke above you, eyes as dark as the sins he was doing to your body.

But I’m over all of it now. I’m over being helplessly in love with you and doing nothing to stop myself from running back to you all the time. I’m done throwing myself under the fire of missing you each time our favorite song plays on shuffle. I’m done worrying about doing things we used to do together, I’m done being afraid if those things will trigger a memory of you. We had grown up over the years and so does how I feel about you. The minute I realized I don’t want to feel okay without you is the minute I realized all the mistakes that we could have easily corrected but never did.

You’re not accepting this fate. You refuse to accept a life that would be spent without Taeyong by your side. There are a lot of things you’re not sure about except for one thing - you would conquer all the odds just to make sure it was him you’re spending the rest of your life with. You just don’t know how and when to make him realize that you’re always down for him.

Him, on the other hand, was racing through traffic to get to where you are. Today was your birthday - your first birthday without him to be exact. All it took was one look at the calendar for Taeyong to realize that he shouldn’t be afraid of mending things with you. Because even if the situation gets rough, you would always be by his side. He mentally cursed himself for ever being scared of talking shit out.

But when he saw you celebrating with your friends and a smile too beautiful it could move a thousand seas, he wonders if he was too late.

Taeyong, you taught me how to be mature. You taught me how to be forgiving even if the people around me aren’t. Most importantly, you taught me how to love fully, madly, and truly. And for that, I cannot thank you enough. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that love isn’t always beautiful but it is always kind. Your love keeps no records of wrongs and I don’t think a love like that could ever exist within anyone else. Thank you for borrowing my pen during the college fair. If I could turn back time and make everything easy for us, I would. You have no idea how much I want to that. But, alas, I can’t. So for now, we just have to live with the burned pages of our past. It is up to you if you want to bury at the back of your mind or if you want to paste them all over your walls. I’m sorry for the pain I gave you - please never forget that it was the last thing I could ever want to give you.

For the love that I will always rejoice upon even in my last living hours, I sincerely thank you.

See you tomorrow at the altar.

 Yours until the sun no longer shines,

Y/N.

#this is a reupload hehe #NCT #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct smut #lee taeyong #lee taeyong x reader #lee taeyong imagines #taeyong x reader #taeyong imagines #taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong superm #nct taeyong #nct x you #taeyong drabbles #taeyong scenarios