#I can wallow in my sickness in private

[caliboron]

ugh I think I’m getting sick

[adispit]

The Aftermath

Alpha rival king x alpha m!reader

A mini part 2 of The Crown!

Warnings: dubcon, handjob, possessive Leo

note: yeah this isn’t really a smut centered piece more centered on the story also I didn’t beta read this so if there’s errors yeah 😭

Something was wrong. Your nape ached with a searing intensity, and your fangs felt inexplicably dull. The air around you reeked of something unmistakable—alpha. Jolting awake, your entire body ached with a deep, lingering pain. Wait a minute, this wasn’t your bed. Where were you?! These luxurious sheets were also something you couldn’t afford…even as a royal.

Your entire body reeked of alpha pheromones—clearly not your own. They carried a hint of musky leather and a scent reminiscent of stormy nights. What was even more concerning was the fact that your body responded in this scent—you liked it..! As an alpha! Panic and confusion surged through your mind as blurry afterimages of the previous night flashed through your thoughts in a matter of seconds. You felt your face flush red with humiliation and shame. Right. You had gotten…bitched. Bitched by Leo.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of your bedroom like any other ordinary day. Except it wasn’t. The clear and fresh humiliation seared and burned into your mind, your only remaining pride as an alpha remaining— completely shattered and destroyed. How could you have submitted! To the very man who invaded and conquered your country?! The man who ruthlessly slaughtered your countrymen…the very man who also mercilessly fucked you…on the throne. Embarrassment once again took ahold of you as your sore nape throbbed at the thought of the events of the previous night.

"You done wallowing in pity?" A cold, harsh voice sliced through your thoughts, snapping you back to reality. A slim and lean man stood at the foot of the bed you lay in, holding a clipboard. He emitted no scent and seemed to be a beta. “Who are you?!” you demanded, glaring at him with guarded suspicion.

“Calm down. I’m a private doctor who’s friends with Leo, he called for me to come examine you.” He rolled his eyes in irritation. “He doesn’t even pay me to deal with the bullshit I have to deal with…Anyways, you clearly went through a number. This guy initiated such a forceful bitching on the spot when you were clearly emotionally and mentally stimulated. Now the consequences of that is, due to the traumatic experience which was caused by the sudden change of your secondary gender, your body is in a pseudo-state of an omega. You aren’t really one right now, you still retain your alpha features….” Hearing the doctor ramble on, you blankly stared off into space.

An omega. You were now an omega. Why— “Hey! Are you listening?” He snapped his fingers. “Listen to what I say!” His frustration was evident in his growl. You blinked your eyes apologetically, trying to focus on his words. “As I was saying, you do still have your features as an alpha, those fangs can still mark someone and your cock still has a knot. Well, a rather pitiful one as of now though, I did have to examine you.” He shook his head in what seemed like gratuitous pity.

“However, your body is in a state of transition into an omega right now. You will leak slick and have random pseudo-heats until you have stabilised as an omega. Without the presence of Leo, the alpha who marked you, your body would not survive those heats and it would be fatal. This is also because of the heat you went through after he bit you.” He droned on monotonously. Like a knife through butter, your heart felt as though it was ripped open at the news.

This man was fucking sick. Everyone was fucking sick! Grinding your teeth in fury, you glared at the doctor in a fit of rage. “Okay, don’t shoot the messenger…just trying to do my job. Just have plenty of rest and with your alpha by your side. I’ll prescribe an ointment for that bite. And speak of the devil! I’ll go now.” He helplessly pinched the crease between his eyebrows before striding off. “How’s my wife doing?” A rich, magnetic voice echoed in the chamber as you were met with piercing blue eyes that seemed to engulf you in their entirety.

“Fuck off.” You spat at him with as much venom your hoarse voice could muster. A pitiful attempt that seemed to only make the teasing grin on his face grow bigger. If he hadn’t bitched and fucked you, you would have assumed this man would have been sent by the heavens to save you. “So feisty… love that about you, (Name),” he grinned, his eyes locked on you, seemingly ready to devour you at any moment.

“You’ve heard the man, as your husband and your alpha, I shall assist you through your heats and provide you with all the loving care you could ever need.” With a malice-filled smile, he manhandled you into a hug that seemed to steal your very breath away from you. “Ugh! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You struggled weakly, flailing your arms as he gripped onto you tighter at your resistance. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen, causing you to collapse weakly into his arms.

Lightly caressing your cheek, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek as he muttered for you to rest, clearly displeased. The rasp of his voice filled your ears as you couldn’t help but press your legs together unconsciously. Your heart pounded in your ears as blood rushed to your cheeks and also your… “Are you hard right now?” A hint of amusement in his voice cut through the heavy silence. “N-no! I’m…” Leaving no room for argument, he lifted up your flimsy gown to the sight of your pathetically erect cock, leaking beads of precum.

Huffing playfully, he palmed at your throbbing dick, earning a soft whine from you. Your eyes were half-lidded and glazed over with lust. Your mouth hung agape, forming words that didn’t exist with a voice you didn’t have in your efforts to comprehend the pleasure you were begrudgingly feeling. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want rough and calloused fingers so delicately brushing over your sensitive tip, making your insides twist and turn at the familiar delicious burn of pleasure.

Your head started to droop, but a sharp squeeze to your cock brought you back in an instant. “Are you enjoying yourself, (Name)?” Leo smiled, full of mirth but also of ill intentions. Slowly, he began to pump your member again, his cruel smile twisting upwards as he heard you let out a strangled moan. Glancing at yourself, you had no choice but admit you were a mess really. Your skin covered with a fine sheen of sweat as you panted laboriously and your hips involuntarily rocking into the warm hold of Leo’s fist.

Grunting disdainfully at the lack of response from you, Leo sighed into the crook of your neck, hot breath brushing against the very bite mark that seemed to burn. “You say you don’t want this though,” his hand crawled achingly slowly up to the desperately sensitive tip. “Maybe I should just leave you be. Just. Let. You. Be.” With each word he punctuated it with a gentle rub of the precum-soaked tip, you nearly found yourself sent over the edge from that alone. You were too close to stop now.

“Please…” A weak plea left your throat. You couldn’t help himself. You knew it was a mistake, but one your useless body was so desperate to make. This ache had to go away. “Please Leo…”Leo grinned victoriously. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” You smelt the air suddenly surge with pheromones. Ah. That soothing smell. Whilst seemingly suffocating in his pheromones, Leo increased the speed of his pumping, making you come undone with a silent scream as the exhaustion overtook you. Slumping down, you felt your taut body sink into his arms before once again passing out. “Fuck.” Leo looked down at the wet stain in his pants and the tent that wouldn’t go away.

A few years ago, under the cover of night, he had ventured out to the same forest clearing where he had once found solace. It was a place he had comforted you in before, though back then, you were both younger. As he arrived, ready to unleash his annoyance on the intruder, he was taken aback to find you huddled, trembling with unshed tears. Your defiant gaze intrigued him, and despite his initial intention to chase you away, he was struck by your vulnerability.

“Hey, you can’t be in… here…” he began, but trailed off when he saw your pitiful form. Struggling with unfamiliar emotions, he attempted to offer comfort, a rare gesture for someone of his royal stature. “You… okay?” he asked awkwardly, furrowing his brows.

“I’m o-okay!” you quickly responded, rubbing your eyes and standing up with a sheepish grin. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you with my crying…” Your innocent reaction only made him more determined to be gentle, despite his internal conflict. His pheromones, released unconsciously, elicited a low snarl from you, signaling your hostility. The mingling scents of earthy soil and rain from you in the air only highlighted the moment.

“Sorry…” he said, rubbing his head in apology. You merely nodded and hurried away into the distance. Though he had expected never to see you again, fate had other plans. Now that you were back in his life, he was resolved never to let you go again.

note: so yeah that’s it uh Leo had an interest in you and ran w it and he met u to ur very misfortune. Reader isn’t having a really great time overall 😭 but I hope this explains things! Tried my hand at something more story related

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - part 2

pairings: oscar piastri x private!secret!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: a very sweet softlaunch ends pretty quickly

authors notes: first of all a huge thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and taken the time to read my works it means so much to me and im so so grateful!! next, this is something i made at 1am so please bear with me😭. i am working on the lando and charles stories i PROMISE but i want them to be special and i currently have zero thoughts about where to take them so it might be a while🫣 also i almost finished this when tumblr DELETED IT?? i want to cry😁 ALSO i started this at like 1am and i cant be asked to do tweets rn so insta smau it is

masterlist heaven masterlist

yourusername

liked by yourfriend2, user7 and 583 others

ahahah i love the beach and my friends

view comments

yourfriend2: dont be fooled she called me crying after the fourth photo bcs she lost 5 games of uno in a row

yourusername: i called you in confidence and this is how you repay me??

user6: its fine we know how emotional uno can get😁

yourusername: ??

user7: im so single hahahahhaa (im dying inside)

user10: is it confirmed that this is oscar?

user9: im not being funny but oscar doesnt even follow her so i think yous are just reaching

user10: …they have the same dog??

yourfriend6: might aswell post his face at this point

yourusername: leave me aloneeee im having fun!!

oscarpiastri

liked by clementnovalak, paularon_ and 93,357 others

second part of the season incoming 😁👊 (after a very competitive round of uno)

view comments

user7: ready to see you up on the podium🧡

user10: uno you say?

user3: right could they be more obvious😭

yourusername: its race week babyyy

*liked by oscarpiastri*

user17: literally what is happening why are all of the grid softlaunching😭

user8: and why does it always end in the hardest of launches

yourusername and oscarpiastri added to their stories

yourfriend2: 😭😭

yourusername: i am sick and tired i just want to POST him but softlaunches are so fun😔

yourfriend2: its really fun when everyone already knows?

yourusername: no but we are in too deep now☹️

user6: god you guys are insufferable

user23: JUST POST THE CUTE COUPLE PHOTOS ALREADY

user23: i lied please dont im so single it hurts

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 6,572 others

the world through my eyes☀️

view comments

oscarpiastri: i love you sososo much

oscarpiastri: my favorite person in the entire world

yourusername: ur literally my sunshine🫶

yourfriend1: god you make me SICK

yourusername: ..okay😁 oscarpiastri i love youuu🤭

landonorris: i hate people in love (you guys are very cute)

user10: THE NOTE OH

user18: THE HARDEST OF LAUNCHES HAPPENED

user7: he is her world oh my lord

user63: and the fact that hes her sunshine too😭😭

user63: literally crying myself to sleep

oscarpiastri

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 143,572 others

my happiness

view comments

yourusername: teheehee thats me🤭

yourusername: i LOVE YOUUU

yourusername: i didnt know you took photos of me like this☹️

oscarpiastri: of course your my favorite🧡

yourusername: oh could you get any cuter🫠

yourfriend4: thought you should know yn is currently jumping up and down and giggling while looking at this

user23: I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU NOT TO POST THESE?? I CANT HANDLE THIS??

user8: god really saw me sad and said ‘heres the happiest and best couple, wallow more’

user16: YOU GUYS ARE LITERALLY THE CUTEST?? THE NOTES?? THE POSTS??

user1: i cant stand people in love (i want to cry and drown in my tears)

yourusername: oh my god im so obsessed with you

oscarpiastri: i loooove youuu

oscarpiastri added to their story

yourusername: ahhhhh im so☹️

yourusername: osc☹️☹️ur literally the cutest thing to exist

yourusername: my boys🫶🫶

yoursusername: im so in love with you sunshine☀️

oscarpiastri: love you, thank you for showing me happiness🤍

[phr0gg13]

Do Not Wait.

Luke Castellan x Reader

Synopsis: You and Luke have always been close, and so when the guy you trust most in the world decide to backstab the people you call family, you are torn in two. Warnings: Spoilers for the series! Angst, I dont think pronouns were used for the reader! (Please let me know if they were!) this story could be read as platonic or romantic feelings, I was inspired by the song Do Not wait by the Wallows!

It was a cold night when Luke came to see you, almost as if the gods knew what was in store. He had came up to you at dinner and asked to speak in private. You followed him to a secluded spot in the woods of Camp Half-Blood, there was an opening that showed the sun setting. It was like a painting, almost as if Apollo had painstakingly taken the time to think about each stroke of sunlight and how it would hit just right on Lukes face. How the clouds would form to be the most beautiful colors and how it would feel like a movie scene. Your heart was racing as you looked around. It was so pretty here, you and Luke were secluded and you wondered what he wanted to tell you. You were nervous and also excited to hear what the Hermes boy had to say.

"Please don't think I'm crazy when I ask you this (Y/N)...." His hands found your cheeks and he caressed them gently. Almost as if you were made of porcelain. Your heart was racing, thinking of every possible thing he could want to ask you. "Luke, I wont think you are crazy.... What's up?" You replied sweetly. Luke felt a small twinge of regret hit him, but he was already to far gone with his plan.

"Come leave camp with me." The words were like a slap in the face. You let out a small breath of air, the same way you would when someone says a terrible joke. "You're joking right? Why would we leave camp?" You were confused, it didnt make sense. Luke was happy at camp, he had you and Annabeth. He had all his siblings. Why would he want to leave? "Because, (Y/N)," his grip on your face got tighter, it was like he was afraid you would leave, "The gods... They don't care about us. They never have and they never will.".

"Thats why you want to leave camp? Because the gods are selfish and act like gods?" You were in disbelief, "Luke where would we even go? What would we do?". He sighed and looked deep into your eyes "There are people who want to take the gods down, who can provide us with the means to show the gods not to forget us. We can finally speak out against them, do something to stop their childish ways!.". You shook your head, "Who...?"

"Kronos has been visiting me in my dreams, he wants to build an army to fight against the gods. He wants me to help." Luke smiled at you when he said that. It made you sick, you took his hands off your face and looked at him with a hurt expression. "Luke, you can't be serious? We need to tell Chiron and Mr.D about this! If Kronos wants a war... Who knows who else will follow him? How many titans will rise up against the gods? It could be catastrophic, Luke. World ending!!".

Luke shook his head, "We can't tell Chiron, we can't tell anyone. Not yet, Kronos isn't strong enough to fight." You shook your head and looked away, why was this happening. You noticed the sun was almost set, everything was dark and you felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. "What about Annabeth?" Your voice broke as tears threatened to leave your eyes. "What about your siblings, your friends?!". Luke sighed, this wasn't how he had planned it going, "They will understand once we tell them. Once we show how strong the army is!." Luke kept going on about how everyone would join him and Kronos. He just kept talking, trying to make you join him. "Luke!".

You looked at him as your tears flowed down your face. "I am not joining you. I can't, this place is my home! These people are my family! I don't care about the gods, I don't need anything from them. I am happy and content with staying at camp.". Lukes expression dropped, it switched from heartbroken to numb in seconds flat. "Fine... But you can't tell anyone my plan. Not yet...". You turned your head and rolled your eyes, about to object to his demand. Yet he had pulled out a sword from a nearby bush, he had planned it all out. Your reflexes kicked in immediately. Quickly you pulled off your bracelet that turned into your sword. A gift from your godly parent. Ready to fight against Luke.

The two of you often trained together and so you both knew how the other fought. Though Luke was still faster and stronger. He also studied your flaws when fighting, he knew how to abuse them. This resulted in him tripping you on the ground. Your sword fell out of your hand and you tried to crawl to grab it, but Luke stepped on your wrist. You cried out in pain, "I'm so sorry (Y/N), but you made me do this..". Luke raised his sword, and for a moment you thought he was going to hit you with his blade. You thought your best friend was going to kill you, yet he maneuvered his sword to where the hilt was pointed at you. He landed a blow to your head and you were out cold. Luke set you up on your back and put his jacket he was wearing over you. He cried, but not because of the choice he made. He cried because of the choice you made. He walked off to go find Percy....

You had woke up with an insane headache, you were warm and in a bed instead of on the cold ground of the forest. You looked around weakly and saw Annabeth and Grover sitting in chairs nearby. You were in the infirmary. You noticed that they were talking to someone else, another person in a bed. One of the campers who was working in the infirmary noticed you were up. They quickly got you some water and asked how you were feeling. You told them about your head and they nodded. You had a concusion... Eventually Chiron and Mr.D came into the infirmary. They started to ask you questions of what happened to you. You told them all you remember and they both looked at eachother. Chiron shook his head, he had a remorseful look on his face.

"Chiron, where is Luke?" You asked as you noticed his jacket on a nearby chair.

"Luke is missing. We assume he is now working with Kronos..."

Your already broken heart was crushed as you heard those words. You are left wondering how long your best friend had truly been gone for.

[theobsidianempress]

If you are UNDER 18 – GO AWAY!!! This fic is not for you. There are graphic themes and mentions of sex. MDNI!

The Nanny

Summary:

Everything was going well for you. A good paying job, just graduated with your masters in child psychology and development along with your teaching certificate. Things seemed to be on the up and up until your boyfriend’s ego go in the way. Before you knew it you were living with your mom again in your childhood bedroom. You decided that rather than wallow in self pity, you’d put your degree to some use only that seemed to be harder than you thought. At the end of your rope you decided to look at the private ads and answered one for a single working father with two daughters. That turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made.

Chapter 3: Level

All he wanted was for things to go smoothly. Was that too much to ask for? Apparently so. First, Nanami got sick so he couldn't watch the girls. Then his morning interviews canceled on him because he changed the venue last minute, and to put the rotten cherry on top of the melted sundae, the girls were throwing hissy fits because he wouldn’t let them wear their princess costumes in public. Great. He looked at his smartwatch and practically had a heart attack. It was 12:25 pm and he was nowhere near ready.

“FUCK!” He internally screamed, “Fuck it. They’re wearing clothes. We gotta go.” Suguru took a deep breath, “Okay, you two can be princesses today. Can you be big girls and get your bags together for papa?”

The twins instantly stopped crying and nodded their heads as they wiped their eyes.

“Good.” He smiled, “I’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.”

“Okay, papa!” The girls chorused as they began looking through their toys.

He spun on his heels and practically ran to his room. This was one of the few times he was cursing himself for not laying out his clothes the night before. Granted, he thought he’d have more time. He grabbed the first thing he saw, a teal polo and black slacks. Easy enough. He threw his hair up into his usual style and ran to go check on the girls. To his surprise, they were all packed and ready to go.

“Good job, girls!” He beamed at them, “I am so proud of you.”

The twins returned his smile with toothy ones of their own. He helped them with their shoes before sliding on his own. Before he stood, he looked at the girls and smiled, “Who wants to race papa to the car?” His eyes darted playfully between them.

“Me! Me!” They shouted and jumped as they waved their little arms in excitement. This was a game he knew they loved to play. It was really a tactic to get them to the car as fast as possible or they’d end up distracted by something in the yard. He locked the door behind him. He looked to Mimiko on his left and Nanako on his right.

“One.” He began.

Nanako began to bounce, “Two,” she continued.

“Three!” Mimiko shouted.

The girl's laughter rang out as they took off towards the car. Of course Suguru let the girl get ahead of him as he checked the time again — 12:45 pm.

“I won! I won!” Mimiko shouted as she touched the shiny black door of the vehicle.

“I’ll win next time!” Nanako said as she slowed down to a stop.

“You’re really fast, Mimiko. You too, Nanako.” Suguru said as he jogged up behind them attempting to keep up the act.

“Thanks, papa!” They smiled at him.

His heart couldn’t take it. They were adorable in their costumes and matching braids. While they could be a handful at times, he wouldn’t give up his girls for the world.

———

You gave your mom a peck on the cheek, “Thanks, mom! Love you!” You said in a hurry as you hopped out of the car. You didn’t give her a chance to respond as you shut the door and hurried towards the meeting spot. You dug your phone out of your purse to see that you had two messages from Suguru.

“Hello Y/N. I’m really sorry but I’m running behind. I have to bring my girls with me.” Read the messages.

You perked up. You didn’t feel as bad for running behind and you’d have the opportunity to meet his little ones! You weren’t sure how far behind he was running but it was better than him canceling all together. Your nerves began to spike.You began to fidget with the silver ring around your right ring finger.

“What if his kids don’t like me? If I want this gig then they have to like me, right?” You thought as you looked for a place to sit, still subconsciously messing with the ring on your finger, “I mean would he even bother to hire someone that his kids don’t like? Maybe qualifications matter more? Or what if he doesn’t like me?” Your heart sank, “Would he hire someone he doesn’t like but his kids do or—”

“Y/N?” You heard a baritone voice call.

You whipped around to see a tall well built man with long black hair that fell just above his waist. You noted that his teal polo complemented his violet eyes. His black slacks were neatly pressed and loafers were hardly worn. It was clear that even though this was a weekend he still took pride in how he looked.

“Papa! She’s pretty! Who is she?” You heard a little voice say.

Your attention shifted to the two girls on either side of him wearing princess costumes. They were adorable! Pink and purple princess costumes and matching tiaras. One was blonde and the other had chocolate brown hair. You thought it was strange that they looked nothing like their father but genetics were weird like that.

You crouched down to meet the girls on their level, “I’m nowhere as pretty as you two! You’re the prettiest princesses I’ve ever met! I’m Y/N. Who are the princesses that grace my presence?” You looked between them.

“I’m Princess Nanako.” The blond one said with her chest puffed out proudly.

“And I’m Princess Mimiko.” The brown haired one said with a slight bow.

You smiled warmly at them, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess Nanako and Princess Mimiko.” You bowed your head slightly.

“Alright, girls. Go and play. I’ll be right here with Ms. Y/N, okay?” Suguru said as he ushered them towards the play area.

“Okay, Papa!” They chorused.

You looked after them for a moment as they bantered back and forth running to the playground before turning your attention to Suguru, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Geto.” You bowed respectfully.

He smiled warmly and returned your gesture, “I can say the same, Ms. Y/N.” He sheepishly rubbed his neck, “Thank you for playing along with the girls. They refused to change this morning and as a parent, I’ve learned to pick my battles.”

You chuckled and nodded in agreement, “Yeah. One thing I’ve learned by working with kids is compromise.”

The two of you took a seat close by so Suguru could keep an eye on the girls as the two of you talked. He asked the typical questions about your education and history. You answered in kind and elaborated on things that needed clarification.

“What made you want to work with kids?” He asked.

With no hesitation you answered, “In high school I was a part of a mentorship program. I thought I would hate it but I ended up loving it. I loved hanging out and having fun with the kids and teaching them things. I realized then that I love working with kids and want to help them be the best they can be.”

Suguru was silent for a moment before he nodded his head. With every answer you gave and your clear passion for children he began to like you more and more. He felt like he could trust you with the girls. He just had one last question for you, “What do you think makes a good nanny?”

“Someone who can explain things and relate to kids on their level and be just as childish and goofy as they are at times. It’s good to balance both.”

“Papa! Papa! Look what I drew!” Nanako came bounding over waving her drawing over her head.

Suguru gave you an apologetic look before turning to Nanako, “What do you have here?”

Her little smile widened, “I drew a lady! Isn’t she pretty?”

“She’s gorgeous, sweetheart.” He smiled warmly at her as he handed her drawing back.

Nanako then came running over to you, “Ms. Y/N, do you like her?” Her big brown eyes were large and hopeful.

“Like her? I love her! You did such a good job! I love her blue hair!”

Her smile grew even brighter than before, “Really! Mimiko said I should have made her hair a ‘real color’.”

You cocked your head, “But blue is a real color.”

“That’s what I said!” She looked over her shoulder at her sister who was still coloring and stuck her tongue out. Mimiko made a face but refused to engage further.

“Nanako, be nice.” Suguru warned.

“Sorry, papa…” she said with a begrudging tone.

“Hey, How bout you and your sister draw a piece together and show us when you’re done, okay?” Suguru posed.

Nanako seemed to think on the idea for a second, “I guess…” She seemed hesitant to the idea.

You furrowed your brow, “Why not? I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“Well, Mimiko doesn’t like to draw people. She likes to draw other stuff. Like trees and junk… those are no fun.” She pouted.

“Hmm…” You crossed your arms and tapped your chin in an exaggerated manner, “Well, I think you two can still draw together.”

“How?” She asked.

“How about this — your sister could draw the background and then you could draw the people. Sound like a plan?” You watched as the gears started turning in her little head before she grinned up at you and Suguru.

“Okay! I have a really cool idea!” She turned on her heels back to her sister, “Mimiko! Mimiko! I got something we can do together!”

“She’s the leader out of the two of them isn’t she?” You asked as you turned back to Suguru.

He chuckled a bit, “What gave it away?”

You bobbed your head from side to side, “Call it a good guess.”

The two of you shared a light hearted laugh. Yeah, he was sure he liked you. He was amazed at how you engaged with her and were so sweet and complimented Nanako’s drawing. You seemed to genuinely enjoy it. He probably would have never suggested that the girls draw something together since they like different things. You made it sound like a fun project that they could do together.

Suguru cleared his throat, “So, Ms. Y/N, is there a specific salary you were looking for?”

You hadn’t thought of a concrete number… you were just looking for enough to live on your own again and pay your bills. You spat out a random number that seemed fair. You watched as Suguru pulled a small notebook and pen from his pocket. He scribbled something on it and slid it over to you. Looked at the number he’d written and almost forgot how to breathe. The number on that paper surely had to be a mistake right?

“Does that seem fair?” He asked.

You looked from him to the page and back to him, “You’re really ready to offer me this amount of money to be a nanny for your daughters?” You asked half thinking he’d change his offer.

“Is that not enough?” He reached for the notebook again.

Your hand shot out to stop him. “No! This is — this is more than enough. I’m just shocked… is all…” An embarrassed blush touched your cheeks.

“Why?” He probed.

“No one has offered me anything close to this… All my other offers were far less than this. I mean why so much?” You admitted. Deep down you didn’t think you were worth the literal quarter of a million he was offering you. Yeah, he was a rich executive but it still seemed like a bit much.

“In the case things don’t work out you’d at least have enough to get you by until you find another family to work for. Though, I would hope you’d be in it for the long haul.” He said as he leaned forward.

You stiffened like a plank of wood, “A-are you offering me the job?” You tried to keep your growing excitement from bursting out of you.

A small smile crossed his lips, “Yes, I am. Do you accept?”

“A-absolutely!” You couldn’t help but smile. You tried your best from grinning like a madman but that was becoming harder by the second.

“Great. I’ll send the moving crew in a week to get you and your things.” He said as his own smile grew.

“Wait, what? Movers?” You heard a record scratch.

His face scrunched in confusion, “Yes. You were aware that this was a live-in position, right?”

You had applied to so many positions that at some point you stopped reading them all the way. Oops… You shook your head, “Silly me, I must have let that detail slip my mind.” You laughed nervously. “I’m fine being a live-in nanny, but I do have two cats and they go where I go.” You rubbed your arm nervously.

“That’s fine.” He hunched, “I’m sure the girls would love two new furry friends.”

You felt your whole body vibrate with excitement and relief. The hunt for a new job was over and now you were onto something new.

You took the metro home rather than have your mom come and pick you up. The entire way home you were buzzing with excitement until you realized you’d have to tell your mom you were moving out again. While the circumstances of you moving back in with your mom weren’t ideal, you still enjoyed having her around as she did you. You wondered how your mom would react to you being a live-in nanny. You began to fidget with your silver ring again. Your heart broke a little as thoughts of your mom crying filled your mind. On one hand, You didn’t want to upset her with your sudden departure but, on the other hand, you were an adult and needed to be a big girl. A female voice announced your stop and you hopped off. The whole way you were going over ways to tell your mom you were moving out as you twilttled with your ring. Your body seemed to grow heavier with each step as you neared the front door.

“I’ll just have to be direct… the more I dance around the subject the worse it’ll be.” You thought as you dug for your keys. You took a deep breath as your hand wrapped around the brass door knob. You walked hoping your mom was still out and about but she was right there with a huge anticipatory smile.

“Well? How’d it go?” She bounced a little as she spoke.

“I got the job!” You pushed a smile on your face.

Your mom knew you like the back of her hand. She could tell something was up when you weren’t bouncing off the walls.

“What’s going on? I thought you’d be excited.” Her hands dropped to her sides.

You bobbed your head from side to side, “I am excited. Really! But umm…”

“‘Umm’ what, sweetie?” She prompted.

You let out a heavy sigh, “It’s a live-in position. I’m moving out but the end of the week.” You said it so fast that it sounded like a single sentence.

She was silent for a moment before busting out in laughter, “Aww, my baby,” She cooed as she shuffled towards you, “is that what you were afraid to tell me?”

“Wh — you’re not sad?” You asked absolutely befuddled.

She snorted, “I’m sad, but not heartbroken. You’re an adult. I never expected you to stay. Not forever, at least.” Your mom pressed your head against her chest in a hug.

You relaxed into her and hugged her back. You mentally kicked yourself for letting your anxiety get the better of you. You should have known that she wouldn’t break down into a sobbing mess. It wasn’t that deep.

“Sweetie, you’re just moving out again. It’s not like you’re moving countries. You can still call me and see me when you have time.” She said as she rubbed your back.

“Yeah… I guess.” You admitted in a sigh.

Your mom pulled back and held you by the shoulders at arm's length, “Thank you for considering my feelings, baby, but, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you, mom.” You gave a soft smile.

She pinched your cheek playfully, “I know. You’re so sweet. But enough of all this.” She fanned her hands around as if to get rid of all the heaviness that still lingered in the air, “Where does my baby girl wanna go for dinner tonight?” She clasped her hands together with a loud clap.

You leaned against the coat closet as you gave it honest thought, “Well there is a hot pot place I saw earlier when you were dropping me off.”

Your mom perked up, “Oh! My friend was just telling me about that place! We’re definitely going!”

You let out a short laugh, “They have all you can eat hot pot for like $30.”

You saw stars form in your mom’s eyes. She loved good food and an even better deal, “Oh, you shouldn’t have told me that, Y/N.”

A cheeky smile crossed your lips as you hunched, “What kind of daughter would I be if I didn’t tell my mom about all the best deals?”

The next seven days were a roller coaster to say the least. Packing all your stuff again. At least this time you had more time to make sure it was packed properly and not tossed into a bag or box. Then there was working with Suguru for a plan for your cats since moving animals was stressful on both parties. There were a lot of moving pieces for you to block out again. You wished he’d given you more time to get your shit together, but he was the one calling the shots. Who were you to complain?

As you were packing more of your things from your closet something hard fell from the top shelf and fell square on your foot. You howled in pain while giving your best impression of a pogo stick. After the pain lessened to a dull throb you checked to see if you were bleeding. You were fine but fuck did that hurt.

Your eyes scanned the floor of your closet to look for what had fallen. A silver glint caught your sight. When you moved your hanging clothes out of the way you found that it was a picture frame.

“Dad?” You wondered aloud.

You picked up the frame and dusted off the glass for a clearer picture. It was your dad. He was smiling a wide toothy grin holding a little white kitten with a small tabby kitten on his head.

You laughed a little as you thought back to that day.

You and your parents were walking home and heard tiny mewls coming from somewhere. You took off to find the source of the sounds. Your parents' voices fading in the distance. It didn’t take you long to find the cause. In a cardboard box labeled ‘free kittens’ you saw two little kittens — one was all white and the other was a brown tabby with a white chest and paws.

“Aww… you poor things…” you crouched down to offer your hand.

The kittens backed away before sniffing your hand. The tabby headbutted your hand and the white one let you pet him.

Your parents had come running up behind you scaring the poor things back into their initial corner.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t bother to address them. Your focus was solely on the two abandoned kittens who were huddling in the corner of their box, “It’s okay, babies. They won’t hurt you.” You made little noises to get them to come to you again. Your parents put two and two together.

“Y/N. You’re not bringing them home. We can take them to the shelter.” Your dad said.

“Dad! Just look at them. You can’t leave these lil’ guys in the shelter.” You managed to pick them up. You turned to your parents to show them the kittens who were mewling up a storm.

“Aww! Look at ‘em, honey! They’re so little!” Your mom cooed as she began to pet the tabby.

“No! We don’t need pets! We work and you,” he said gesturing to you, “Have school! We don’t have time.” He huffed.

“I’ll make time. You and mom always made time for me when I was little, so why can’t I do the same for these little guys?” You said nuzzling them.

“No.” He was firm in his refusal.

“Aww, come on, honey. Just hold one.” Your mom said.

“Yeah, dad, hold one!” You practically shoved the kittens in his hands.

“W — Wha — Now — ” Before he could finish his thought he was holding two fuzzy kittens in his arms. The little white one was content in his arms but the Tabby had other plans. He climbed your dad’s shirt and used his claws to grab onto his baseball cap. When he was square on top of your dad’s head, he decided to loaf there. It all happened so fast that you and your mom were just staring in shock. You were certain that your dad was going to hold firm in his objection to keeping the kittens. Your heart sank for a moment before he burst out in a fit of laughter.

Your mom snapped that photo on her phone while she had the chance. You walked over and took the small tabby kitten off of his head and scratched his little head. He purred heavily in your hands.

“What should we name them, kitten?” He asked you.

“Huh? Oh, well, uh…” You stuttered, “Wait, we can keep them?” You smiled hopefully at your dad.

He nodded, “I wouldn’t ask you for a name if I had no intention of keeping them.”

You looked down at the little tabby in your arms, “Why not call this one Mochi? He looks like chocolate mochi, doesn’t he?”

Your dad nodded, “I think Mochi is a fine name for him.”

“I think we should name this little fella, Shiro.” Your mom posed as she gave the white kitten head scratches.

“He looks more like a Yuki to me, mom.” The kitten seemed to purr harder and lean into your scratches more when you mentioned the name Yuki.

Your dad laughed, “I think he likes Yuki better, love.”

Your mom huffed, “Sure, whatever.”

Since then, Mochi and Yuki were yours.

You ran a thumb against the embossing of the silver frame, “I know, dad. I’m bringing you with me. I could never leave you.” You walked over to an open box you had on your bed and placed the picture inside before taping it shut.

Next chapter to be poster 8/17 at 5pm CST! If you want to be added to a tag list comment “tag pls”

[a-libra-writes]

as I wallow in my fever filled misery I binge your blog for most of the day and i absolutely love it, i hope it's okay if i ask for whoever you want from ASOIAF with their sick s/o love you

Im sorry this is hittin so late anon! I hope you recovered well~ Here's a couple peeps for ya.

Brandon - He's terrible at noticing when he's getting sick himself, and actually sitting and resting ... so while Brandon will notice when your energy is low or you don't feel well, he doesn't worry until you finally collapse. Then he feels terrible while he carries you back and you're set up in a spare room (he wouldn't mind sharing the bed, but he's already been lectured to death by the maester about what a bad idea that is. He doesn't care he probably sneaks into the spare room anyway.

Because Brandon is restless on a good day, so when you're feeling ill and awful, he's distracted. He keeps thinking about you throughout the day, and checks on you often. If you're not improving, he's doggedly following the maester around and hovering and trying to be useful and just ends up getting kicked out. Everyone's relieved when you finally improve, and yes, he gets sick because he couldn't stay away but it barely knocks the guy out. Not fair.

Ned - Ned would be the one who notices your energy dropping and the loss of appetite in combination with the change in weather. It's especially uncanny if you're someone who doesn't get sick often, and he still figures it out. He's also the type who offers you warm food and rest early on, in hopes you'd shake off the cold early. It's all fun and games to tease Ned about being a mother hen until your sickness gets worse and you're stuck in bed. Great. He won't say "I told you so", buuut he still laughs a little when you complain about being stuck in bed all day.

Ned feels bad about you having to be holed up in a spare room, though, but at least you're in one of the heated ones. He visits at least three times throughout the day, bringing whatever you need and keeping you company if you'd like it. If you're the sort who wants to be totally alone when you're sick, he respects it, but he's gotta stop by to at least say goodnight. Also, it's just Ned's luck that he gets sick just days after you do, every. single. time. It's usually worse, too.

Benjen - He does what he can with what's available at the Wall. While he keeps his usual jovial self up around you, wanting to encourage you, he privately worries about your health. Benjen sneaks in extra furs and extra food - If anyone catches him, all he has to do is drop the smile and glare them down. It's surprisingly effective. He'd like to stay by your side all day and night, but he can't risk getting ill himself and there's work to do.

So Benjen comes in in the morning and late evening, starting by giving you a kiss on the brow, then making sure you're comfortable, then showing off whatever he snuck out of the kitchens. He's got a nautral and relaxed bedside manner, but can be surprisingly stern if you try to get up before you're ready. Maybe if this was the South, but the Wall isn't the place to risk it. Oh and he gets sniffles and sick later bc he kept up with the kissing.

Stannis - What a surprise, Stannis matter of factly states you're in no condition to go about your usual business, and you ought to set up in the spare room. Maester is called, food brought, medicine taken, done and done, right? Back to work. The thing is, if you often ask for him and you're clearly not feeling well, he has a difficult time getting back to his duties. He tells you many times to call a servant, but the guilt actually starts to bother him, especially if you get worse before you get better. Stannis sits on the very edge of the bed (his bedside manner is hilariously bad, don't worry,) and keeps asking you to go back to sleep and stop chattering.

His own health actually isn't that bad, especially considering the seige, but guess what. That one time you got out of bed to get something yourself, he caught you and irritably carried you back? That's what gets him. Stannis still doesn't get as sick as you do, but he's definitely bellyaching about it while you take care of him.

Oberyn - He's the sort of man whose either a godsend when you're sick, or driving you up a wall. It depends! If you want constant attention and fussing, Oberyn will indulge in your neediness all you want. He rather likes it, feeling like he's helping even if you don't immediately improve. If you want to be left alone to puke and snot in peace, well ... he has a hard time staying away. Oberyn wants to be the one bringing your medicine and food, whatever you need, and he wants to stay and linger. Even if it's just to chat, or run his hand down your back.

And yes, he’ll still want to share the bed unless you’re in an absolutely awful state. You'll have to kick Oberyn out eventually, or just move to one of the guest rooms yourself, otherwise he’ll get sick - except he never does, the jerk. Must be all the citrus.

Ashara - She's also the sort of person who would pick up on the weather changing and the change in your attitude, and point out you're probably getting sick. She says it so suddenly, and it's so early, you wouldn't believe her ... aaand two or three days later, you're laid out in bed. Just great. Once the maester is done with his business, Ashara likes to visit if it's just a cold. She's smart about being careful where she touches you, not getting too close, avoiding your cough, she even brings a citrus fruit basket and implores you to eat some. Her bedside manner is lovely too, and she brought your favorite book? Alright, this isn't so bad.

She will stay away if you start getting worse, and it just makes her worry more. In that case she's making sure the maester is bringing in gifts, even if you feel too poorly to enjoy a book or a bouquet of flowers - it's about knowing that someone cares and is worried about you.

Asha - It's straight to the spare room with you. Nope, no whining, no ifs or buts, no kisses no matter how much you whine about it. Asha loves you but she is not about to have you snotting and coughing all over the bed. At least she's not about to let you be totally miserable, Asha's pretty good about barking at you to eat more and drink water. There's not a lot in the way of medicine on the Iron Islands, but Asha's recovered from some pretty nasty spells before. She figures you'll do the same.

... There's some worrying when it takes a while. If you try to be stubborn and suffer through what's probably pneumonia, then Asha will drag a maester over from the greenlands by his ankles. Hiding weakness like a proper Ironborn is all well and good until you're coughing blood, then she calls you a fool and fusses endlessly.

Roose - He'll tell you that you're getting sick, and mention you ought to do something about it. His suggestions are pretty terrible, though - no, Roose, you aren't drinking that weird wine or doing leeching or bleeding or whatever. You're fine. Except when the flu finally hits, and you're fighting off his damn maester with a stick. Weird treatments aside, Roose seems like his aloof self, though you're also too addled by fever and congestion to pay attention to his comings and goings. He's actually keeping a close eye on your progress and more or less threatening the maester and servants that he expects you to improve within a fortnight, as if they can directly control it. Well, they better figure something out.

Getting worse means Roose actually ending your sickroom, as if there's something others have missed that only he can see. He spends a lot of time ... watching, and while his face is impassive, there's worry. A lot of worry. He might start disposing of the help and this maester if you don't get better. A lot of the irrational, explosive bloodlust anger that he's spend years burying down is starting to bubble up and there's not a lot of outlets for it. Once your condition turns around, it calms itself, if only for a while. He still won't forget his servant's incompetence.

Jaime - For seasonal colds and a yearly flu, Jaime is gonna avoid you like the plague because a) he hates getting sick and b), all the snotting and vomitting is gross. ... And Jaime's actually not good at dealing with a loved one whose ill, both in the sense it's difficult to see them that way, and he has no idea what to do. You think his father gave a damn when he was ill, or let that be an excuse to stop training? You think his siblings had any idea what a good bedside manner was?

It's easy for him to tease once you're recovering and able to leave the sickroom, though his barbs aren't as pointed. It isn't easy when you aren't recovering quickly, or when you get worse. He doesn't know what to do with himself, so Jaime acts out in a way, threatening the maester, being in an irritable mood, having no way to help because this isn't his area of expertise.

[writing-whump]

Sick and hurt

Part 2 of this fic

Hector hated two things most in the world. One, to ask anybody for help. Ever. Two, to ask anything of Isaiah, because he fucking never knew how to talk to him and usually tried to pretend they had nothing to talk about.

He felt rejected by Isaiah in so many ways, that it didn't matter how his eldest brother sounded or what peace offerings he made these days.

Right now, his other brother was asking him to do both, to call bloody Isaiah for help. And couldn't say no, cause as it was, Hector was completely useless.

And he hated that even more.

Every breath hurt. Every movement hurt. While Hector wasn't a stranger to pain, though maybe a bit less used to it than a human would be, he could handle this just fine.

When he was comfy and unmoving on the couch. Not when he was running around Arnie, who was all but delusional from the fever.

Crouching down hurt. Bending at all hurt. Getting up hurt. It was only the adrenaline to keep him doing both, and he didn't know how long he could do it. The bandages that felt firm and steadying a few hours ago felt suffocating, cutting into his bruised ribs. His chest and sides were on fire, flaring up depending on how he turned or held his neck.

Hector googled symptoms, then called their pack's private doctor for advice. Tepid bath, he said. Yeah, that would be great, if Hector could freaking carry Arnie out the bed and help him into it. As he normally could. As he was supposed to.

Arnie's suggestion didn't let him wallow in his failure for long though. It was 3.40 in the morning. Why would Isaiah even pick up?

Hector took Arnie's phone, unlocked it with the password and found Isaiah's number in the last three calls. He tapped at the phone icon with a sigh.

"Arnie? What is it?" Isaiah didn't pick up on the first ring, but on the second and somehow didn't sound tired at all.

"No, it's me," Hector grunted, not sure if that was very informative.

"Something is wrong," Isaiah said it as a statement and Hector could hear the ruffling of blankets as he got up from the bed.

"Arnie is sick. His fever if off the roof and I don't know what else to do." Hector clenched his jaw. "He has been asking for you."

"I'll be there in 15. Take his temperature before I come." The line ended.

Hector blinked at the speed. No explanations, no questions, no awkwardness.

As if it was that simple.

Hector called, so Isaiah was coming.

……….

"I can come with you," Seline offered, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"It's okay. Hector is even more difficult, when he is worried. Especially about Arnie. Besides, you didn't catch my flu by a miracle, but let's not push our luck."

Seline leaned against the dining table, watching Isaiah pack his backpack with a yawn. "Take Vitamin D too. 20.000 units. Maybe it will keep Hector off the hook," she instructed.

Isaiah nodded, adding the package to his supplies, before throwing the bag over his shoulder and putting on his shoes.

"Go back to sleep, babe."

Seline ducked her head with a tiny blush, waving her hand. "Keep me updated."

………

The rain didn't help with the visibility as Isaiah drove through the darkness, roads glistening, the aggressive patting of raindrops against the windows.

Isaiah tapped his fingers on the wheel, impatient at the red lights.

He was a light sleeper since childhood and Arnie's name in the middle of the night had him wide awake, heart plummeting painfully. Hector's rough reluctant voice in the phone didn't help with the unease.

He still had the address saved from when he saw their apartment the first time, a few weeks ago, when Hector was sick. The only time he was allowed to visit.

He parked the car and sprinted as dignified as he could down the street and into the apartment.

Hector didn't exactly live around his other packmates, not on the same floor, but on the same street, some in the same building. It would be suspicious for him to run into any of them. He was the Wolfson traitor, not someone his brothers should associate with. The only good thing about this happening at night was the low probability of it happening.

The world rushed out of focus until Isaiah got to the right floor, knocking at the door, only to find Hector's head in the doorway.

One would think Hector was the one sick, with the pained expression and his naturally wild hair sticking out in every direction. He opened the door all the way wordlessly, watching Isaiah like he expected a slap to the face.

"Temperature?"

Hector turned away, leaning against the closed door, hand balled into a fist. "40.1. I can't lower it. Water or pills won't stay down-"

"Hector-"

"I filled the bath with water, you know the medium temperature, not too cold? I called the pack doc, and that's what he said-" Hector punched the door next to him, eyes burning with frustration with a desperate edge.

"Wait, calm dow-"

"-I would take him to a hospital, it's not like I would let him die-"

Christ, he was more freaked out than Isaiah thought.

Isaiah cringed internally, throwing logic out the window and following instinct instead.

He stepped closer, taking Hector's face in both of his hands. "Hey. Look at me. Nobody's dying. You did everything right. He is going to be fine. It's okay."

It was from that close that Isaiah realized Hector was holding himself up all weird, posture all skewed like a badly hung picture on the wall. His breathing was off, which could be just from distress, but his upper lip was covered in sweat and his eyes had a feverish gleam, though he didn't feel warm. "What's wrong with you?"

Hector murmmed something, gaze dropping to the floor.

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. Yeah, this wasn't normal. "You look ready to fall over..."

Hector said nothing, a muscle in his jaw visibly spasming.

"Go get some rest. I got this," Isaiah suggested softly.

Hector frowned, head shooting up immediately with a snarl. "I'm not going-"

"You will sit down." Isaiah let go of his face, giving him a stern look, voice cold. If his shadow was out in the open, it would loom over him and the walls threateningly. "Cause I said so. I'll go see Arnie. End of discussion."

Isaiah hated doing that, he hated using his Executioner voice. But Hector stopped protesting, bowing his head the way wolves did when allowing precedence to someone else. It was the tone Isaiah used to get around teenage Hector that would say 'no' in every sentence.

Hector retreated a step, leaning back against the wall, eyes shimmering, face flushed. His right hand pressed against his ribs and he took a shallow breath through his teeth.

Isaiah was starting to put the puzzle together, but turned around to get to Arnie's room.

His youngest brother was in bed, a dark blotch of sweat on the front of his shirt, hair plastered to his face.

Isaiah dropped to one knee beside the bed, pushing the hair out of his forehead to feel the heat for himself. Yep, alarming heat indeed. "You up, champ?"

Arnie didn't open his eyes, but gulped, chapped lips moving in a ghost of a smile. "Hi, Zaya."

"There is a bath there going for you. We'll get that annoying fever down, dose you up with some good anti-nausea meds and you will be up and kicking in a few days, okay?" Isaiah stood up, hands sliding under Arnie's back and his knees as he talked, hoisting him up.

Arnie's head lolled limply towards him, the side of his face pressed against Isaiah's chest.

Isaiah carried him to the bathroom, where the bathtub was filled with water as promised.

He helped Arnie strip down from the clothes and then gently put him inside, slowing as Arnie's hands shot up at the first contact with the water.

"Easy, easy. This will help a lot, I swear." Isaiah let Arnie brace against him as he eased him down to lean against the back of the tub.

Arnie's lips quivered from the cold, though Isaiah found the water mild and pleasant temperature. "Don't fall asleep. I'm gonna stay right here and watch you."

Arnie turned towards him, eyes glassy, the emerald green in contrast with how pasty his face went. "I-I c-could r-really u-use a s-s-sauna after this."

Isaiah smiled, sitting more comfortably on the carpet, though in a good position to quickly stand up if Arnie tipped to the side too much. "A nice spa sounds like a good idea. Just hot tub."

"A-and b–b-bubbles."

"Yeah. And the different kinds of sauna. Did you know it's recommended to get into cold water or snow after sauna and then go back again? The way it will make your veins contract is supposedly very healthy."

"S-so I'm skipping the sauna n-now? N-not fair." Arnie tried to smile in Isaiah's direction, eyes focusing slightly too much to the right to land on his face.

Isaiah wanted to keep the conversation going, to keep Arnie lucid, but that's when Arnie suddenly lurched forward with a heave.

Isaiah straightened on his knees that instant, planting his hand on Arnie's shoulder and arm as the blond heaved and heaved over the water, but only a couple of burps and a string of bile came up.

"Okay. Shhhhh, easy. You are okay." Isaiah rubbed his back, hand dipping all the way into the water, following the outline of Arnie's spine.

Arnie's heaves slowly died down, though his body sometimes jerked forward. "Bleeeh. That felt awful."

Isaiah helped him lean back again, noticing the tears, spit and the snot on Arnie's face sticking to his chin. "I bet." He took a roll of toilet paper and tore a bunch to dry Arnie's face. "You are holding up really well, kiddo."

Arnie closed his eyes, his breathing still fast from the heaving. "I'm sorry. You will catch it, if you stay with me like this."

Isaiah chuckled. "I already had the flu, don't worry. It's a nasty one, with high fever and nausea."

Arnie opened his eyes at that, squinting at Isaiah. "You were sick?"

"Yes," Isaiah leaned his elbow on the edge of the bathtub with a chuckle. "Three days of fever and I couldn't even smell food. Got around without vomiting though."

Arnie seemed fascinated by the idea, eyebrows meeting together. "You with the flu...."

"Yep- hey, don't fall asleep!" Isaiah jumped up to pat Arnie's cheek, when his head fell to the left all of a sudden as his voice trailed off. He kept patting it until he got him to open his eyes again. "Stay with me, kiddo, come on. Just a bit longer."

"Ughhhmmm. I understand why sleep deprivation is used as torture," Arnie mumbled.

Isaiah looked at his watch, counting down the minutes for Arnie to have something to focus on. When the time was up, he lifted him all the way from the water, getting half-soaked himself and bundled him up in a giant towel.

Dried off and with a much milder heat coming off Arnie, Isaiah pushed him into a fluffy bathrobe and carried him back into the bed.

Arnie curled up protectively around his stomach, but he wasn't shivering as much, which Isaiah counted as a win.

"I got these pills from Sel. They should calm things down there a little and they have an anti-emetic effect too, so the nausea should stop. If you keep them down, I will give you something for the fever too."

Arnie hummed in response, hand around his middle, eyes open to slits. Isaiah helped him swallow the two small white pills with the tiniest sip possible, then sat down on the floor again.

After 15 minutes of relative calm, Isaiah dared to try the paralen too, nervously shifting his weight as they waited.

It took another half an hour before Isaiah let himself relax, for Arnie's squirming calmed, though he still didn't close his eyes.

Isaiah combed his fingers through Arnie's hair, curling them around his fingers and smoothing them back and forth gently.

Arnie nuzzled his head against the pillow, muffling a slight burp, but sighed contentedly at Isaiah's ministrations.

"Zaya? Can I ask you something?" Arnie stumbled over his words a little, so Isaiah leaned closer.

"Anything."

"Check on Hex for me? His ribs are hurting..."

"Yeah, I'll check on him," Isaiah said, voice hoarse in the face of Arnie's concern. "Don't worry about it right now. Just sleep. I'll be here, when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Arnie finally let his eyelids close. Isaiah kissed the top of his head, smoothing the covers over him.

…….

"Who did this to you?"

Hector lifted his head at Isaiah's question in alarm. He sat on the edge of his bed, bowed, face in his hands and Isaiah could see the bandages peeking out from under his shirt. "What?"

"Who did you get those from? If you are anything like you were as a teen, you wouldn't lose a fight easily. If you are getting hurt, it's serious."

"And you are going to do what, exactly?" Hector's eyes were wide, voice stunned. "They are my fights and I can handle them, thanks."

"Just tell me the damn name and I'll solve this," Isaiah said menacingly.

Hector huffed. "Stop ordering me around. In my own house, no less.”

“You don’t listen to me otherwise!”

“I don’t listen to anyone. You are not special,” Hector said, throwing back Isaiah’s words from the conversation, when Isaiah helped him with the broken leg. "Besides,” Hector dropped his gaze again, just like he did in the hall earlier, "this was my own fault."

Isaiah watched him quietly for a long minute, stunned by the admission. "Show me."

Hector snarled. "Can't you just-"

"Arnie asked me to."

That shut Hector up. Even more effective than orders.

Isaiah sat down next to him. Hector reluctantly rolled up his loose black shirt. Isaiah inspected the wrappings with a critical eye. "This is too tight. It will only hurt more."

Hector wheezed a little from pain at having to hold his shirt up with his hands pulling at his chest. Isaiah reached for it, helping it pull it over his head so he could have full access to the bandages, unwrapping them with experienced cold hands.

Hector flinched at the touch of Isaiah's fingers, but as the wrappings loosened, his breathing came easier, more relieved.

Isaiah worked quietly. He had many questions, but he didn't trust himself not to bark orders. Hector saying no to him one more time that evening would break him. Arnie's authority to intervene felt borrowed, like something he shouldn't be doing.

Hector held himself stiffly, breathing through his clenched teeth. "Arnie?"

"Asleep. His temp is lower and he kept the meds in. The worst part is over." Isaiah finished unwrapping the bandages, wrapping them around his hand into a roll to dispose of. He almost whistled at the amount of bruises covering Hector's torse.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh, why don't you." Hector held his hands to his sides defensively.

"This is no laughing matter."

Hector winced at Isaiah's stern tone. "I know. My mistake, okay? I went overboard. I never thought that-" he broke off with a pained breath. "I'm going to be more careful. I'm never going to be too weak to help him next time."

Isaiah regarded him thoughtfully, then sighed, the sternness falling off at the declaration. "Hey, I'm not saying anything. You are doing a good job with him. You were basically in charge of him since he was 12? And he survived just fine."

Hector's head went back a little at the praise.

"Part of being an adult is also realizing, when you can't do something," Isaiah said tentatively. "You know I don't mind helping. You don't have to be alone with this anymore."

Hector grunted something, glaring at his shirt.

Isaiah sighed, taking it and pulling it over Hector's head and helping him slide his arms in. Hector made an annoyed noise, but didn't stop him, pulling his feet up so he could lean against the bed's headboard, softened by pillows.

"I won all the fights, you know."

Isaiah chuckled. "Yes."

"More than that friend of yours. Your useless second."

Isaiah raised a quizzical eyebrow. What did that have to do with anything?

Hector leaned his head back, hands folded underneath him. "What exactly does he have that I don't?"

Isaiah frowned. "Oh." They sat in silence as Isaiah thought about the implications of that sentence. "Hex, come on. You don't have to win to deserve-."

"I never won enough of them," Hector growled. "Not enough for you to let me train with you. Or with Father. You kept me out of everything. What did I do wrong?" He looked up at Isaiah, seemingly younger in an unguarded way, his amber brown eyes wide and open.

Isaiah stiffened. "You did nothing wrong. It was never about winning or deserving things." He stood up, all the calm replaced by nervousness as the guilt settled over him like a second coat.

"Then what was it about?"

Isaiah stood with his back to Hector, breathing very very carefully so his voice wouldn't catch, so he wouldn't show how deeply upsetting that question was. He could see how Hector came up with that wrong assumption now, but he didn't have the words to dispose of it.

Because I didn't want you to go through Father's training. Because he promised me he wouldn't touch you, if I did what he wanted. Because keeping you out was the only way I came up with.

"Right. You are so eager to come, but you shut me out. Again." Hector's voice went rough and bitter at the end, picking up his anger just as quickly as he dropped it.

Isaiah smoothed out his expression, but it was he who couldn't meet Hector's eyes this time. His tongue was frozen, his heart clenching anxiously.

He didn't know if it would be right to tell Hector about the pack's biggest secret. He didn't know if Hector could take losing the image of his perfect father, no matter how skewed it was.

And even if Isaiah knew if he should tell, he wasn't sure he could.

“I’ll get you some painkillers,” Isaiah said into the heavy silence.

As if that could fix anything.

@bellysoupset

[neurotheascars]

I see a lot of need for this, so I'm throwing my voice in too.

If you are plural you are real. I care about you, I see you, I recognize and respect you. No matter how you present, trauma or otherwise. whatever stage in your self understanding you are at, I wish you peace and fellowship. I am a safe friend to all systems who love all systems. I wish healing on all humans I meet. I believe the human race has not a single unharmed individual. We must all respect the existence of one another as it unfolds, however it may unfold.

If you are anti endo, please just stop talking to endogenic systems about it. Talk to your therapist about it. Show them your anger because they are paid to handle it. If they can't, then get a new one. If you can't do therapy, then I really wouldn't comment on the status of someone else's psychological state and the validity of whatever it is they're going through. I also don't think it's healthy to take your anger out on other people. Go journal if you have nothing else, I know it helped me.

I'm a member of a traumagenic system of mixed origin. I am an created alter. I am real. I am validated by a licensed professional, not that it should even matter! You can keep your opinion, but just stop inflicting it on other people. stop spreading your hate and anger around. I am a reformed persecutor and I am fucking sick of seeing you guys wallow in enjoying your anger at the expense of someone else. I've been there, I know what it feels like and your pain won't ever get better if you keep spilling anger on unrelated people. Figure your nasty angry trauma shit out safely and privately ok? This ain't it.

Also I'm in a blocky mood, it might be better to go drink a glass of delicious cold water and talk to a plant and have a snacky snack than it would be to argue with me. Have a great day. Love you all 🦘⚔️

[assortedvillainvault]

Hello! I saw your requests are open, and I was wondering if you could write some headcanons either for Hector Barbossa or Davy Jones. I recently rewatched PotC and somehow fell for both of them <3 I can't really decide between them though, so I'll leave the choice to you for which of them you want to write (of course you can also do both but I don't want to ask for too much)

For the scenario I don't have anything specific in mind, I'd appreciate any cute fluff honestly. If you want some kind of guideline, maybe something along the lines "how they express their love for their s/o" (the reader can be female or gender-neutral), but if you have a different idea feel free to write that instead^^

I'd be happy if you can make something from my request :D

I am. SO sorry for how long it has taken for me to get to this request - thank you so much for your patience and I hope you enjoy some quality fluff for these crusty old men:

(I tend to write any x Readers as gender neutral by default)

Barbossa X Reader Fluff Headcannons

Barbossa, for all his grandeur and posturing, doesn't actually want you to be the meek pushover kind of partner.

He's an unrepentant drama queen with a childish streak and a love of games. If anything, what he wants is a partner with enough gumption to meet his antics head on.

AKA he wants to argue with you enough that you steal his hat, run around his cabin with him in hot pursuit and then snog under the stars once he catches you. Yknow. #JustCaptainThings

He's going to be dramatic 24/7. It's just his nature at this point. You can't change it. Jack is insane, Norrington is noble, Jones has a pout strong enough to put the sea itself on the housing market and Barbossa is waxing lyrical at the wheel while you turn a spectacular shade of red and the crew desperately avoids eye contact.

You're getting draped in the spoils of the pirate hoard whether you want it or not. Just waking up absolutely draped in pearls and jewels while he parses the rest of the stash for the right shade of silk to match your eyes.

He's a touchy guy. Wants you close by at all times if not all but draped over him. Will not hesitate to pull you into his lap. Get comfy.

If somebody has to gall to disrespect you he has two modes:

1. You deal with the offender yourself while he watches from the top railing - all but hollering 'That be my WIFE/HUSBAND/PARTNER!' and yeeting the nearest hat into the ocean as you break your assailants noses.

2. You're overpowered and he strides in with a spitting fury, pistols smoking as the offenders drop like bloody flies. 'That-' he seeths, sword drawn and held to quivering throats, '-be my Wife/Husband/Partner you mangy disgrace of a half-drunken curr.'

If Jack so much as blinks fliratiously at you Barbossa won't peel himself from your side for over a week.

Davy Jones X Reader Fluff Headcannons

It's barely noticable, the fact that you're together.

You can't blame him for keeping his distance and reputation up around the crew, his last disastrous attempt at love was quite literally the stuff of legend after all.

In private however, it's different.

He's getting more and more comfortable with letting you touch him - running gentle hands over coral growths, crab claw and eventually, his beard. Letting your facination and awe chip away at centuries of self loathing bit by bit.

He has a harsh exterior but the moments of softness, when they happen, steal your breath enough that you seriously reconsider that cutting his heart out dulled his feelings in any way.

He's teaching you how to navigate. Both via maps and by the stars. It always ends up more as cuddling and quiet conversation.

While you're on deck, Maccus (the Hammerhead shark first mate) will sometimes order you to the captains cabin. These orders aren't from Jones, who Maccus knows will avoid help until the sea boils into mist, but becuase the first mate has already recognised that you're good for eachother and he's sick of his Captain wallowing in self pity.

Maccus knows exactly what's going on between you two and is just praying that you hurry up and kiss in front of the crew already so he can stop covering for you both. A+ wingman first mate, honestly.

Over time, Jones's organ playing stops being endless renditions of Calypso's song and his theme for the Kracken, and instead shift to a new tune, one you and the crew are unfamiliar with.

It takes you weeks before you realise the halting notes and muttered scribbling is him composing you a song.

The first time the clear, bellowing notes of the organ boom out over the sea for you is the first time you see him smile to himself without a shred of malice and your hearth does a backflip - becuase That is the expression you vowed to bring about as much as humanly possible.

If you're apart, then letters. So many letters. Letters in little bottles, letter tied to floatring barrels, letters in bottles carried by octopi becuase the Kracken commands many tiny minions, letters that are smudged and spotty and full of love he can never seem to express in person. You send yours back the same way and they're guaranteed to reach him, no matter where the Dutchman is.

[chained-to-the-mirror]

I looked through my notes and apparently last time I sat down to write my thoughts was in February. I had been struggling with my body image and had a nasty nightmare. I’ve not had very nasty nightmares now, but the body image thing is ever present.

I recently bought swimwear for the first time since my early teens. (Let it be noted that I’ll be 43 in a month.) It was inspired by a friend who is coming to visit and wants to go swimming. I was so nervous to even try on a swimsuit… but I did it. I now have two swimsuits/swimwear. I wonder how it will be to actually go out in public wearing them - not easy, probably, but hopefully it will be at least somewhat enjoyable in the end.

Also a new thing is that I’ve been wearing shorts now. It’s almost 30 degrees here and suddenly I’ve noticed I don’t care what others think. I even wore an almost sleeveless top! Who am I?! I think this is due to age, and running out of fucks to give. I mean, does anyone really care what I’m wearing? I don’t think so. I just want to be as comfortable as possible. 

I’m putting my outfit from yesterday here - I would never have been able to wear this a year ago, no matter how hot it got. I’m surprised at myself. Also shocked at how comfortable I was eventually! There was no panicking, no distress. I see all the flaws, but it just matters less and less. I undoubtedly sound like a broken record, but I’m just so surprised.

I don’t think I would be at this point without my dear friends. They keep me sane, truly - and they never seem to get tired of shooting down my negative self talk, which matters more than anyone would guess. I love them all very much.

Another thing that’s helping is plants. I’ve become a full time plant parent, and it feels good to see things growing under my care. I’ve never been able to really do this successfully until now. I’m currently sitting on my balcony, surrounded by my green babies, and I feel calm. It’s no small thing, to feel calm! The plants also help me practice being patient. My huge tomato is testing me - there are so many flowers, but no fruit. Not even beginnings, apart from one that’s smaller than the tip of my pinky. I’m told it takes time, but I just worry. I am doing my best though, and that will have to be enough.

I don’t know where I’m going with all this, except nowhere. I suppose this is my blog, and I can go nowhere as much as I wish. I was going to write something the other day, but when the time came, I found I had no words anymore. Much like now! But I was thinking a lot about my active ED years for some reason. I used to be one of the moderators on a pro ana forum - one of the nice ones, one that helped me keep myself together for a long time. I was close to several people on there - I wonder where they are now? I kept in touch with a couple even after I was discharged from my first hospital stay, but these days I have lost contact with them. I hope they have found their own ways out. We were all sick, and brought together by being alone in our respective sicknesses. 

I kept a journal on the forum - it was full of misery and wallowing, so I’m sort of glad I have no access to it anymore. In fact, I don’t even know what became of the forum after I left. I’ve tried to find it again, but nothing comes up on google at least. It was always a very private, invitation only forum. Everyone supported everyone, in both sickness and recovery (whichever way any of us went at the time). I think I’m - ironically - alive because of those girls. (I say girls, because it was all girls. I think there may have been one boy at one point, but he was not very active.)

It’s such a weird experience, and I can’t really explain it to anyone who hasn’t been a part of a place like that. I tried to explain it to the nurses and the doctors at the hospital, but I don’t think they got it. They saw it as harmful, and probably fairly. In fact, the whole thing made me realize how futile group therapy would be for eating disorders. It can go wrong in so many ways! I’ve only had personal therapy so I can’t be sure of course, but it just feels suspicious. At least for me. I think that you have to be mostly in recovery to really be able to get any help from a group. I think that I might be able to, now - now that I’m mostly recovered. But of course it’s not something that’s available for me anymore. The EDs are not even in my diagnoses - not the main ones anyway. You’d have to dig pretty deep.

I guess this is what I wanted to get out. I’m not proud of my involvement in a thing like the pro ana movement, but I can’t fully bring myself to be sorry either. These things happen for a reason, and the reason was to keep me alive. I’m grateful for that.

It’s time to stop writing. My plants around me are telling me to wrap up the day, and they are right. I only need a shower and then I can fully relax. Thank you to anyone who read this, it’s a mess!

[novemberthewriter]

between home & the other hard place [650 wds]

a character sketch of candida “dodie” james

genre: literary/drama (lightly-edited discovery writing for one of my WIPs, the horror/dark fantasy project ‘dagmar’. we learn a bit abt dodie: the black sheep of her family, & best friend to zeke, our protagonist)

[cw: emotional negect/abuse, implied self-harm]

–

A BIT OF THE BEFORE [for dodie]

The best thing Kendra James ever does is reupholster all the shag carpeting in the house. This makes it much easier for Dodie to wallow overnight in the corner of her bedroom.

Sometimes, if she’s got her good PacSun hoodie on (with the thumb holes and the built-in earbud drawstrings that connect to her iPod), and some fuzzy socks, she doesn’t even need to use a blanket. The nights will start with a racing mind and end in the deep, drugged-without-drugs sleep that depression causes so many people to fall into. 

Even this rare good thing from Kendra has Bad attached. Side effect of these plush-carpet-pillowed nights: as easily as racing thoughts and slumber come, so too does morning, missing the bus, incurring Kendra’s wrath for needing a ride. Dodie prays on these days for Grandma Dolly to feel well enough to drive her instead of Kendra ‘Can Never Be Late For Work’ James. Then Kendra’s schedule changes, and Dolly’s health declines, and suddenly it’s easier in these times for Dodie to call herself in sick (the attendance office at the high school always falls for her Kendra impression). 

The thing is, ever since the family split and Dad and Little Denny went off their own way, it’s actually less work for Kendra to be stuck with an ailing mother and depressed daughter instead of them two plus Dad the Manchild and Denny the Actual Rowdy Schoolboy. When Dodie’s not thinking of herself as The Big Disappointment, she is able to muster a bit of grace to speculate (privately) that Kendra’s become a nightmare because she’s feeling like a failure for not holding the family together.

Listen. Dodie’s also just tryna survive – between home, and the other hard place where hardly anyone connects with her: school.

When Dodie (having finally accepted that her first Black geek friend is not an online figment of her imagination but someone who exists in her town, in her same school) starts talking to Zeke offline, she’s surprised to learn Zeke cares nothing about her massive follow/friend count. “I have an extension to hide all that shit,” she tells Dodie.

“But can’t other people still see it?”

“Yeah, but I can’t, which is all I care about.”

Other Things Zeke Cares About:

Dodie’s nail care (Dodie will never again rock chipped black polish & chewed-up nailbeds while Zeke has an acrylic kit @ home) 

Dodie’s makeup (“You can still be all goth and spooky but let’s do it CLEAN!”)

Under Zeke's hand, Dodie sees things about herself gloss over in some areas and come together, less ABC Extreme Makeover and more like using the Photoshop sharpening tool IRL. One day, she makes the mistake of leaning into the never-before-received curious attention of alt onlookers at school – only to be met with a Greek Chorus of Jeers (Tryhard, Wannabe, Poser, White Chocolate, and so many dumbass Marilyn Manson puns involving slurs). Zeke’s not there to protect her (Dodie would never expect her to be, Zeke’s her own person, not Dodie’s guard dog), and anyway, Dodie found out the consequences of being a Black Girl Fighting Back in the white town of Dagmar early on in life. She knows that her best chance of survival in this, as with everything, is to take it on the chin. To stay grateful for the few good things she has. 

THE REALITY NOW [for zeke]

Dodie dies.

The remaining James family moves away before Zeke can process anything. Consensus among the people of Dagmar who notice is that the death was by Dodie’s own hand. And Zeke’s not saying she wholly disagrees with that (Kendra’s shitty enough that Zeke can imagine many people being driven to the edge by her), but she feels a hole like a missing puzzle piece, and the hole is what her friend left in her, but it’s also wonder – What exactly befell Dodie James? 

Who else but Zeke cares enough to find out?

[pjunicornart]

Cut Songs

Just to give you an idea of how much work I put into my Cornelius x Franny playlist, here is a list of songs that were cut from it, with explanations as to why. 1. Eraser Girl by Maretu - Oh man, this song is dark... Before I had a concrete theme, I had a lot of "dark love" songs on there, this being one of them. This song in particular ends with both partners committing suicide together. 2. In The Bedroom, Royal Suite, Secret Grotto, Private Table, and Rooftop Lounge from HuniePop - Cut for one reason... THEY'RE NOT ON SPOTIFY. It sucks because these songs are PERFECT. UGH. 3. Boom Boom Boom by KIRA - Couldn't make it fit... unfortunately. Real sad because this a song you could easily imagine Neil and Franny singing... well, vocaloid versions of them, ha ha. 4. Saw and Pendulum by (?) ft. Hatsune Miku - Another dark song I cut once I found a theme. It's a yandere song, and like most yandere songs, someone got murdered. 5. Games by KIRA - Another one I just couldn't make fit. I do plan on doing something with this one, though. 6. Hot Milk by MentaiRocker - Cut because it was too hardcore of a sound for the playlist, and I had settled on the one rock song I was gonna put on the playlist. 7. SYMBIOTIC by Starset - Same as above. 8. Saccharine by Jazmin Bean - This was more of a "love is disgusting" type of song. It was cut very early on. 9. Soap by Melanie Martinez - The vibe didn't quite fit for this one. 10. stillness in woe by Purity Ring - Cut because the lyrics were too cryptic, as well as too "ethereal" sounding. 11. Holy Lance Explosion Boy by rerulili - Not really a love song... more like a "we fucked up so now we gotta stay together" type of song. 12. Two Faced Lovers by wowaka (rip) - Again, wasn't really a love song. Just a dark story about two "lovers." 13. SuperNova by Spott - Because breakcore definitely didn't fit the vibe... oh well... 14. Cosmos Love by Lexie - It's not on Spotify :( 15. Darling by BlueBrony - Also not on Spotify... ugh. The good ones never are. 16. Veni Vidi Vici (Magic) by Scraton - Cut last minute because I couldn't make it fit anywhere. But I also realized that the filter on the samples makes it sound like Boyfriend from Friday Night Funkin' is singing it. 17. Fluffy Chocolate Bunnies by Mr. Sunset - Not. On. Spotify! UGGHHH! That song is so good, too!!!! 18. Breathing Space by DJT and Rusyd Rosman (Shuffle Horse Remix) - Say it with me everybody... it's not on Spotify... 19. Star Lily Dance Performance by MASA WORKS DESIGN - It's part of the Onibi series, and if you know what that means because vocaloid was a part of your childhood like me, then you know exactly why it was cut... 20. Brass Noise Flamenco by MASA WORKS DESIGN - I realized Cornelius and Franny ain't like that, so it was cut. 21. Sick Sick Sick by Pinnochio-P - Another one that was cut last minute because I couldn't quite make it fit. 22. Jenny by Studio Killers - ... I can't not see this as a lesbian love song, I'm sorry y'all. 23. Kuru Kuru Pa! by Lamaze-P - Because I'm gonna make a stand alone piece for this song. I'm inspired, lol. 24. Hole-dwelling by Kikuo - Too depressing for the theme I was going for. 25. But I Like It by Lauren Sanderson - The sound was too hardcore for the theme, same as the others above. 26. La La Lainey by Forever The Sickest Kids - Cut because it's more of a Cornelius x Lizzy song, to be honest... 27. 1980s Horror Film by Wallows - Ah, the good ol' bait and switch. Unfortunately, not good for the playlist. 28. Butterfly's Repose by Zabawa - WAAAAAY too sad for the theme. I ain't tryna make anybody cry. 29. Lemonade by Nicole Dollanganger - Too dark. Ends with murder... 30. Heart Shaped Bed by Nicole Dollanganger - Cut mostly because I have an image idea for this one.

I listen to way too much angst... But hey, all that angst can make for some cool images! Eventually.

[annaizscribbling]

Just a New Years vent, feel more than free to skip, I just need a place to throw my thoughts, so I'm just doing it here for no real reason.

Well, maybe that's not entirely true. it's not uncommon for me to write out my thoughts privately, but doing it on a blog can feel more ... comforting, i think. The illusion of being seen? Or of solidarity? Or maybe just seeking attention. I'm not sure, but it's something like that.

I was (or am) more emotional about the New Years than I thought I'd be. On some more subconscious level, I planned to draw through midnight, painlessly passing over into the new year. I didn't want to think about it, how I felt about it was too complicated, and unaddressed, and it was suddenly jumping me all at once when my youngest sibling came and got me to celebrate with the rest of the family.

I want to say that counting out years is arbitrary, it's just a manmade passage of time, based on our planet circling the sun, I shouldn't need to measure myself against it, and what even makes it successful? But that's just my rational surface level brain talking, and to my ongoing misfortune, my feelings can get in the way of easy rational.

In reality, I'm disappointed. I was sick for most of the year, sleep deprived, exhausted, and struggling in pretty much every area of my life outside of grades and performance at work, I looked like I was doing good, but it was only there. I survived the year, and for that I'm glad, but it's hard to feel like I've done enough, when I'm certainly the type to always push for more, aim bigger, accomplish more. I crave bigger and better and productive and fulfilling. I always wish I could be more.

Sometimes you've got to settle for enough, instead of more.

And that's not an easy thing, at least not for me.

2022 was rough for me. That simple. It was an uphill battle, and I'm not sure that I won that battle.

That's not to say it was all bad, all my worst years had a couple highlights. Highschool is over, thank the Lord.

I'll hold onto the nice things, and the little moments, and the little achievement, because I don't want to wallow, but I do want to reflect.

I hope this past year was good to you, bit if it wasn't, that's okay too. I'm going to remember the parts that were good, and cling to them while I mend the parts that weren't so good.

I've got things to look forward to in the next 365 days

[ss3890]

Goddess of the Crossroads

20-Day Deity Challenge courtesy of @broomsick : LINK

“Hecate was associated with borders, city walls, doorways, crossroads and, by extension, with realms outside or beyond the world of the living. She appears to have been particularly associated with being 'between' and hence is frequently characterized as a "liminal" goddess. "Hecate mediated between regimes—Olympian and Titan—but also between mortal and divine spheres."[57] This liminal role is reflected in a number of her cult titles: Apotropaia (that turns away/protects); Enodia (on the way); Propulaia/Propylaia (before the gate); Triodia/Trioditis (who frequents crossroads); Klêidouchos (holding the keys), etc.”

Cult images and altars of Hecate in her triplicate or trimorphic form were placed at three-way crossroads (though they also appeared before private homes and in front of city gates).[10] In what appears to be a 7th-century indication of the survival of cult practices of this general sort, Saint Eligius, in his Sermo warns the sick among his recently converted flock in Flanders against putting "devilish charms at springs or trees or crossroads",[62] and, according to Saint Ouen would urge them "No Christian should make or render any devotion to the deities of the trivium, where three roads meet...". (LINK)

Hecate’s association with the crossroads is perhaps one of the more important aspects of her in regard to my vision of, and experience with, this goddess. 

“Crossroads” in regards to modern worship (and my own) are not so much physical places, but the choices we make: ones we are faced with throughout our lives - whether on a macro or micro scale, at significant turning points or in the small daily choices we face - and each choice leads us down a path. 

Hecate can help illuminate these pathways, but the choice to walk them remains our own. Do you let your misfortune and trauma consume you? Or do you say “fuck you” and keep on going in spite of it? Do we wallow in darkness, or do we choose to follow her light?

“Hecate is an immensely powerful deity and is not one to be taken lightly. She is a genuinely loving goddess but working with her can be difficult. She tests her devotees and throws obstacles in their way. She cares but does not coddle. She will help you, but only if you put in the work. She will not pity you; she will challenge you to rise up. With Hecate, everything happens for a reason. Your life could feel like it’s falling apart, but if you have put in the time and work, everything will come together beautifully at the very end ~ after you have struggled and learned.“ (LINK)

I feel that she has always been there beside me for all the major turning points of my life, and very much in the way described above. Honestly, that’s what I really like about her. The good, the bad, the ugly...she has held up her lantern and bid me to take the paths that move onward and upward - paths that have shaped me into the self-assured woman I am today - because only I was able to stand up and walk them for myself. 

In doing this, I have found an inner strength that no one else could have given me...and being able to save yourself is a powerful thing indeed.

[vizthedatum]

The Furious Incineration After the Betrayal in Over a Decade of Friendship (2024)

(You can read the poem, stylized, on Instagram here) --

Over a fucking decade, I loved you so much,

A friendship I thought would never end.

But let me get to my long-winded point, entirely in touch:

You're a nightmare dressed as a best friend.

You spiral into self-centered chaos, completely unhinged,

Undiagnosed on purpose, dysregulated, and selfishly toxic.

Your love – a performance barely fringed,

Your actions: privileged and catastrophic.

And you, you privileged piece of trash,

Threw away my rent check on a whim.

February 2023, a Texas visit's shame,

My March rent-check envelope stamped, ready to mail,

To support your breakup, I loyally came.

You insisted on driving me to the post office under a "caring" veil.

"Can't you pay online?" you had scoffed with disdain.

I explained my landlady's old-school ways,

So you offered to drive, a kindness feigned in vain,

Exposing a ruse that would haunt me for countless days.

You spiraled about some random guy's digital interface,

A dating app match, now probably long forgot.

You handed me your phone, and I negotiated dates with grace,

While you "mailed" my check - or so I thought.

Later, my landlady called, rent check not received,

My world upended, stability gone.

You gaslit, denied, and shamelessly deceived,

Our friendship? I realized too late, forever done.

That hellish March week, more trauma piled high,

My autistic mind in overdrive with absolutely no rest or respite.

Job-hunting, side-hustling, barely getting by,

Defenses low and then raped by my girlfriend's husband,

who wanted to keep both of us oppressed.

Meltdowns erupted, friendships crumbled fast,

Regret still stings for bonds I couldn't save.

My soul subdued in a nightmarish cast,

Leaving me trapped in a mental enclave.

Doctor by title, fraud by nature's decree,

Prestige and parental pressure, seemingly your only guides.

Your stethoscope: deaf to humanity,

Your prejudice and arrogance, amongst your masked bedside manner, slip through the divides.

Homophobic jokes, transphobic sneers abound,

Your racism: a festering, putrid stain.

You scorn the homeless, curse Spanish translators around,

In Texas, where diverse tongues have rightful domain.

"My dad died," your perpetual battle cry,

In your twisted Struggle Olympics game.

Others' traumas you readily deny,

You wear your grief like a badge of fame.

Remember December 2022? My new start's light?

After fleeing violence, homelessness at bay.

You saw my progress on Facebook and felt small in spite,

Your insecurity, a trait you don’t want to work on, on full display.

Eighteen hundred, given in secret shame,

A donation hidden from all your kin.

Did you tell them of my hardships' claim?

Or was your silence another sin?

You donated, not through GoFundMe my friends did create,

But a private transaction known to few.

While I was healing in a fragile state,

You called, complained, then demanded anew.

"How can I help?" you asked, two-faced and sly,

After indirectly begging for your donation's return.

"Share my GoFundMe," I said with a sigh,

You refused, lest your image burn as much as your fake "concern."

Months later, after your own breakup's toll,

I came to support you despite my pain.

My mother hospitalized and sick, even with her abusive control,

Yet I showed up for you, my own healing on hold again.

Three grand returned, a move born of pride,

To pay you back for a decade of false gifts.

No mention of my love, my gifts, or the times I tried.

Our friendship reduced to monetary transactions and rifts.

You, with your wealth and family support,

Couldn't see beyond your gilded cage.

While I struggled, of poverty the sort,

You wallowed in your entitled rage.

"I need a new car!" you whined and cried out,

Your newer model still running just fine.

A week later, my junker gave out,

With the duct-taped trunk and bad alternator, another pitiful sign.

You spiraled endlessly, used us all,

Friends and family – your pseudo-shrinks.

Your empathy, superficial and small,

As fragile as fine china that clinks.

I tried to explain, to bare my soul's plight,

About poverty, violence, being trans.

"What would you do if you were at zero?" I asked outright,

"I'd never let that happen," you grandstand.

You criticized me at my lowest low,

Complaining about your petty demands.

Yet you sought out my empathy, as though

I had the strength to meet your reprimands.

Your love was never real, just a façade,

A transaction, a way to feel good.

You couldn't handle my unmasked guard,

My autism and my queerness, all misunderstood.

Boundaries crossed, jokes soured with time,

Your "straight" identity, a flimsy shield.

Unwanted and attempted kisses, weird sexual comments sublime,

Our friendship's trust, broken before your betrayal was revealed.

"HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT LUXURY APARTMENTS?"

you unironically screamed,

As if that knowledge would save my life.

A simple package delivery seemed

To spark a battlefield of classist strife.

I regret the money, the time, the love,

I poured into our poisoned, toxic well.

You gaslit me, pushed and shoved,

Our friendship – a personal hell.

How many times must I be let down?

How many friendships will turn to dust?

Now, I reevaluate each bond around,

Searching for those I truly can trust.

We connected once, didn't we?

Bengali-American, in healthcare's fold.

But your self-absorption set us free,

Left me questioning all we once told.

Remember your undergrad roommate's baseless rage,

When I came out as bisexual in college?

I thought you were my defender sage,

Now I see through that false memory as merely symbolic.

She insinuated I took advantage,

When I wasn't flirting, not at all.

You were the one who caused damage,

Your fake flirting, because "that's what friends do,"

a confusing call.

Behind my back, your whispers flew fast:

"Worried about you," you falsely claimed.

Gossip masked as concern, unsurpassed,

Our friendship, forever stained and maimed.

Both Bengali, both Cornell alum, both of this Earth,

You, secure; I, in financial strife.

Your Brahmin name: a *castely* crown only given at birth,

Claiming Hinduism purity while you live a disdainful life.

We both have degrees in healthcare's realm,

But our paths couldn't be more diverse.

Your privilege a cushion at the helm,

While I fought for every cent, every verse.

Here's some pettiness, from me to you, served ice-cold:

I fought my way into direct admission.

You transferred, your struggle untold,

Your Ivy League dreams, a late addition.

Conservative, fascist values unchecked,

Your world view narrow and small.

I give honesty, which you reject:

While you only beckon judgment's call.

You say you don't recognize me anymore,

As if that's some kind of sin.

Do you know the honor of what I bore?

The vulnerability that lies within?

You think I'm crazy, unhinged, splintered,

For writing this, for being direct.

But this is me, raw and unfiltered,

My neurodivergence deserves respect.

So here we are, at the bitter end,

A decade of friendship turned to ash.

I'm angry, hurt, but I'll transcend

Your entitled, spoiled backlash.

To my ex-friend, I bid adieu,

Your cowardice and cruelty laid bare.

I'll heal, I'll grow, I'll start anew,

While you spiral in your self-made lair.

Fuck you, for the millionth time, I say,

For the pain you've caused, the trust you've broken.

I'm done with your gaslighting display,

These are among the last words to be spoken.

No more chances, no more pain to bear,

This poem seals our story's end.

May you wake up, heal, and become aware,

But I won't be there, my former best friend.

--

Rose the artist formerly known as she her Pri

~ গোলাপ্রী

[theobsidianempress]

The Nanny

WARNING: This story contains strong language and sexual themes. If you are UNDER the age of 18 - GO AWAY!

Summary:

Everything was going well for you. A good paying job, just graduated with your masters in child psychology and development along with your teaching certificate. Things seemed to be on the up and up until your boyfriend’s ego go in the way. Before you knew it you were living with your mom again in your childhood bedroom. You decided that rather than wallow in self pity, you’d put your degree to some use only that seemed to be harder than you thought. At the end of your rope you decided to look at the private ads and answered one for a single working father with two daughters. That turned out to be one of the best decisions you ever made.

Chapter 2: Song and Dance

Hectic mornings meant it was going to be a hectic day. Chasing around one four year old to get ready in the morning was hard. Now double it. Then there was making sure they were fed and didn’t mess up their clothes before they managed to leave the house. If one of the girls wasn’t throwing a fit about what they wanted for breakfast, they were squabbling.

“Papa!” Mimiko wailed as she tugged on Suguru’s pant leg, “Nanako hurt my dolly and won’t give her back!”

Before he could respond, Nanako came running, “No, I didn’t! She took my dolly! She hurt hers and tried to take mine!”

“Liar!” Mimiko shouted, “You hurt mine first!”

It was far too early for any of this and he’d not yet had an ounce of caffeine. Suguru put on his kindest face and knelt down on their level, “Well, we’ll have to take her to the doctor so she can get better, now won’t we?”

The girls nodded, “Yeah!”

“Right, but to do that we have to get to the car. I’ll take her to the doll doctor and when you get home from school she’ll be all better.”

“Okay papa!” Mimiko beamed. She ran to the door and began putting on her shoes with Nanako following suit.

“Thank god, that worked.” He sighed.

The girls continued to squabble on the way to school. No matter how many warnings he gave there wasn’t much he could do aside from a stern look in the rearview mirror. He thought he was through the worst of this when they were toddlers. He would stand corrected. The girls were only four and he had fourteen more years of similar arguments and who knows what else to deal with. He loved them with all his heart, but fuck if parenting wasn’t hard. Especially being a single parent. If there was ever an emergency or one of the girls was sick and needed to be taken home or literally anything else, he was the only one to call. Everyone knew that Suguru had kids and never batted an eye when he had to leave a meeting to take a call or leave early because of them. Lately, there seemed to be an uptick in him needing to leave work to pick up one or both of his kids. At work there was also a project that he was in charge of and that was also demanding most of his time. He knew that he couldn’t be in two places at once but what was he to do?

“Just get a nanny.” Satoru said as he took a bite of his lunch.

“Get a nanny and neglect my kids like you do?” Suguru jabbed.

Satoru frowned, “I don’t neglect Megumi and Tsumiki! I still spend time with them! They’re old enough to know that I have responsibilities too. A nanny just helps me out when I need it. I have my strengths, but I can’t be in two places at once and neither can you.”

Suguru hated it when Satoru was right. A nanny seemed like a good idea. His girls were little and they needed more attention and assistance than he could offer in his current role. He did his best to be there for them and make sure they knew that they were loved but wearing himself thin wasn’t going to help anyone.

A knowing grin spread across his friend’s face, “Ahh! I see you thinking about it!”

Suguru rolled his eyes, “Yeah, but I don’t have time to review applications. I’m already neck deep in this project.”

Satoru nodded, “True.” He sat thinking for moment, “Just have your assistant do it. Have her give you the best applications so that way you can kill two birds with one stone.” He took another heaping bite of his lunch.

“I don’t want to involve her in my personal affairs. That’s not what she gets paid to do.” Suguru ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned back in his chair.

“Wrong.” Satoru said with a mouth half full. He swallowed before he continued, “Your assistant gets paid to do whatever you need her to do and if you need her to sort through applications for a nanny, if that’s what you need. If you wanna pay her extra to do so, then by all means do, but she’s your assistant. It’s literally her job to help you.”

Once again, his friend was right. The job of an executive assistant was to help their executive in whatever they needed (within reason). He still hated the idea of getting his assistant involved in his personal affairs but he really, really needed the help.

—————————

When you got settled in at your mom’s house, you turned your phone back on. Just as you expected, your now ex had blown up your phone. Texts filled to the brim with venom, voicemails of screaming and crying and incoherent babbling. That filled you with some joy in through that whole ordeal. For days that man tried to get a hold of you waiting to scream his lungs out at you but you just blocked his number and moved on.

“He can stay mad and die mad for all I care.” You thought as you scrolled through social media. That was really all you do at the time. The further down you scrolled, you found that he had posted a video of the damage and calling you out by name. People were calling you out in the comments and your DMs were on fire. You didn’t care. You felt no need to justify yourself to anyone in his circle and proceeded to delete their messages and block them. He was a piece of garbage and deserved what you did. He’s lucky that you didn’t leave the sink and tub running. He was being a little dramatic but when wasn’t he? You smiled a smug, spiteful smile crossed your lips as you continued to scroll by. Fuck him and anyone associated with with him.

For weeks you were doing the bare minimum to stay alive. You’d only leave your room if it was absolutely necessary. Your appetite was in the garbage, so you hardly ate. What normally felt like it took little energy to do, now felt like it took everything in you to complete. The only thing keeping you going at this point were your cats. They would never let you forget to feed them nor did they ever leave your side. They knew that something was wrong with you and so I did your mom.

“You’ve spent the last three days locked in your room. You need some sun!” She’d say pulling open your curtains. As much as you wanted to just rot away, she would never let that happen. Your mom did all she could to check in on you and make sure you were okay. She always dragged you out from your depression cave against your will. You looked like death every time, but she happily toted you around town with her. Sometimes it was the grocery store or she would take you to the bookstore. When she knew you didn’t have it in you to venture out, you and your mom would sit in the living room watching movies or a TV show on any one of the many streaming services that you shared. While you never said it, you were eternally grateful for her attentiveness and willingness to make sure you didn’t slip further. You were the only thing she had left and she would be damned if she was going to lose you too.

You took things day by day. It was a slow and hard process to get over a break up but you slowly began to piece yourself and your life back together by applying for jobs and hanging out with the loyal friends you had left. You still had more bad days than good days. No one said that healing was a clear, straight path. All that mattered is that you were moving forward.

Fuck a break up. Finding a new job was somehow the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. You applied to day care centers, schools, after school programs and anywhere you could to work with kids. The only problem was, you’d go in for the interview and the process would go well. Then you’d leave on cloud nine with how well you did to then only get an email a few days later that you were passed up for someone else or never hear back. This same song and dance continued for months. No one would tell you what you did wrong or what made someone else more qualified than you. It was tiring and a confidence killer.

“Ugh!” You groaned at yet another rejection email, “Fuck this! I’m better off being a fucking prostitute at this point!” After you beat your head against the wall for a few seconds something occurred to you, “Private ads. I should check out the private ads. Someone is bound to need a private teacher or nanny for their kids.”

You were right. There were tons of parents looking for help. You sent off your resume to just about every ad that looked promising or that wouldn’t end up with you dead in a ditch. You were thrilled with the amount of calls that you had coming in. You had interviews with parents for days. Only this round of interviews led to a whole new host of problems. Most parents that you met, had unrealistic expectations of what you’d be doing with and for their kids nor did their pay line up with that they’d advertised. Others were swing couples using the guise of needing a nanny to meet a new partner. There were only a small few that actually needed a nanny and had their heads on straight. Out of those, came the classic excuse of, “We still have others to consider for the position” or “We’ll be in touch.” You knew anyone who uttered those phrases would do neither of those things. So, you mentally discarded those meetings and kept sending out resumes.

You were buried under blankets with your cats settled on your legs when your mom came knocking at your door.

“Sweetie? Are you ready yet?” She asked, “I’m really excited to try this new ramen at our favorite spot”

“Oh shit…” you muttered. You forgot what day it was! Tuesdays were the days you and your mom went out to eat together. The two of you decided it was a good way to spend time together as well as keep you out of your depression cave.

“I’ll be ready in a minute, mom!” You shouted.

“Okay. I’ll be in the car!” You could hear the jingle of her keys as she walked away.

You slammed your laptop shut and tossed it to the side,“Move Mochi!” You picked up your fat tabby cat who was clearly comfortable and place him next to his brother. Mochi looked at you like you shat in his cereal then walked off.

Typical cat…

You rolled your eyes then hopped up and ran to your closet. You picked the first thing you could grab then bolted down the stairs and to your mom’s car. You hopped in the passenger seat out of breath. You made the mistake of looking at your mom who was clearly annoyed.

“You forgot what day it was, didn’t you?” She asked.

“I’m sorry! I was deep into applying for jobs.” You replied sheepishly.

“Hmmmm…” She hummed, “Well, I guess you could make it up to me by being my partner in a ramen eating challenge.”

“Mom!” Your eyes went as wide as saucers,”You’re too old for ramen eating challenges!”

Your mom let out a playful scoff, “Age ain’t nothin’ but a number!” She let out a witches cackle as she pulled away from the house.

The two of you pulled up to the ramen spot and your mom had fire in her eyes. She was definitely going to try this ramen challenge with or without you.

“Did you change your mind yet, sweetie?” Your mom asked as you two sat at a table.

“Eh. Why not. Sides, I think I can eat more ramen than you.” You jeered.

Your mom let out another cackle and proceeded to order the Monster Ramen challenge for the two of you to tackle. You were excited. Your mom was excited. This was the most fun you two had in weeks. The two of you were chattering back and forth when your phone rang. you. The number was unfamiliar so you figured it was a potential client calling from one of the nanny/ private teacher positions you’d been applying for.

You excused yourself to answer, “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N?” Asked a young lady.

“This is she. May I ask who is calling?” She sounded too young to be a parent but you never knew.

“Yes, My name is Amani Riko. I’m calling on behalf of Mr. Geto Suguru.”

You choked on your own saliva when she said that name. You’d applied to so many positions you never once thought to check the name.

“Are you alright?” Riko asked after hearing you choke.

You chuckled nervously, “Yes! I’m fine.”

“After reviewing your resume, Mr. Geto would like to meet with you for an interview. He’s very busy during the week so weekends are the only time he’s free. I hope that works for you.” You could heard the click of a keyboard on the other end.

You did find it strange to have a weekend interview but at this point the interview could have been at 11 o’clock at night in some dive bar and you would have still said yes, “That’s fine. Is Saturday at nine a good time?” You asked mentally running your calendar.

“Hm….” Riko hummed as she ran through her boss’s calendar, “Can you meet at one instead?”

“Sure.” You chirped.

“Great! I’ll put you down for 1pm this Saturday and I’ll send you the details of where he’d like to meet.” Riko said as she typed away.

The smile on your face was so wide you thought if someone looked at you that they’d think you were crazy. You bid Riko a good day and hung up.

You practically ran back to the table, “Mom, you’ll never guess who just called me!” You were about to tell her when the waitress and two other men came out with pot sized bowls of ramen for the two of you. They weren’t kidding when they said ‘Monster.’

“I’ll just tell her later.” you thought as you sat back down, “For now, let’s tackle this monster!”

You had a blast with your Mom that day. You two didn’t win the challenge but it was still a great meal and an even better bonding experience. The two of you practically waddled out of the ramen restaurant like two cartoon characters with full round bellies as you made your way back to the car.

“We gotta do this again sometime. Maybe we can win if we try harder.” Your mom said as she slid in the driver's seat.

“No. Mom, we are not professional eaters. Maybe we can go back for a normal sized bowl of ramen next time.” You said as you took the passenger side. The two of you closed your doors at the same time and looked at each other with stern looks. You held your mothers gaze for a silent beat before she started to snicker. Then you started to crack and before you knew it the two of you were dying of laughter. As the laughing fit subsided, it occurred to you that you still haven’t told your mom the news.

“Oh! Mom! Guess what!” You posed as you excitedly flapped your hands.

She pushed the start button on her car, “What, honey?”

“I got an interview!” Your voice pitched higher with excitement.

Your mom on the other hand didn’t seem to excited, “You’ve had a ton of Interviews. What’s different about this one?”

“It’s with Geto Suguru! The Geto Suguru of G-tech Industries!!” You let out a happy squeal like a teenage girl. You searched your mother’s blank expression for any shred of excitement. She seemed genuinely lost.

“Honey, you’re going to have to explain who that is because I don’t keep up to date with that kind of stuff.” She said as she shifted the car into drive.

Your excitement was promptly extinguished when you realized that not only would you have to explain who he was but what he did and so on and so forth. It took the entire car ride home to explain how WILD of an opportunity this was for you. She didn’t really get the entire picture but she understood enough to be on the same page.

“So? Isn’t that crazy! Out of all the people he could have chose to meet with- he wants to meet with me!” You bounced in your seat as excitement took over you once again.

“Your credentials must have impressed him. I mean I’m not all that surprised, you’re my daughter after all.” She shot a proud glance your way.

You gave a proud smile in return. “Let’s just hope he isn’t as much of a flirt as his cohort…” you thought as you continued chatting with your mom as you continued home.

———————————

Why? Why did this have to be so damn hard? Suguru was used to putting in hard work but even with Riko’s help, finding a good nanny seemed to be nigh impossible. A lot of candidates looked good on paper, but interviewing them was a whole other story. Some were too old to keep up with the girls. Some were too young and didn’t seem trustworthy and others flat out lied on their resumes clearly hoping not to be called out on their bullshit. Either way, four weeks of this garbage was starting to wane on him. He was hoping that the interviews Riko had set up for him this weekend would be the last of it. He was lucky that Nanami had been willing to watch the girls on the weekends while he interviewed people. While he did pay Nanami, he owed him so much more than money.

Saturday rolled around faster than he would have liked, he wasn’t looking forward to wasting one of his only days with his daughters but this was for their benefit after all. He had just made the girls breakfast when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?” He answered still half awake.

“Hey, Suguru...” Came a hoarse voice.

“No… no, no, no, no, no…” He thought in a panic, “Kento?”

“Yeah… I’m so sorry, but it looks like Yuji caught something at school and passed it along to me.”

Suguru took a deep breath, “No need to apologize. It happens. Feel better soon.”

“Thank you.” Nanami coughed.

“Shit…” He hissed.

While he didn’t want the girls to meet their new nanny until he’d finally picked one so, maybe this was a blessing in disguise. He could see how the girls interacted with their prospective nanny and vice versa. The more he thought about it the more the idea seemed to grow on him. It was either bring them with or risk losing a potential nanny that might actually be a good fit. So, he opted to bring them along. He shot his interviews a text telling them that there had been a change of plans and the meeting place would be a little different than expected. He left his phone on the table and went about getting ready for the day along with the girls.

———————

Your morning could have gone any more wrong if you fell down the stairs and broke your leg. You had your interview outfit all picked out and ready to go on your bed. When you came from the shower you saw Yuki throwing up all over your blouse and blazer.

“Yuki!! You have the ENTIRE FLOOR! Why did you pick MY CLOTHES TO PUKE ON!?” You rushed over and shooed him away. He only made it a few more steps before puking again on your skirt

“Come on!” You whined. You had no time to toss it in the washer nor did you think to have a back up outfit clean and ready. You tossed the ruined clothes in your overflowing hamper and slumped with a sigh. You were on the verge of tears when Something occurred to you, “Mom…” you muttered. Then it hit you full force, “MOM!!” You yelled as you barreled down the hall and down the stairs in an oversized night shirt you tossed on to cover your naked body.

“MOM, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom!” You sounded like an impatient toddler as you tried to get her attention.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” She asked as her brows furrowed together.

“Mom,” you yelled for the last time, “Yuki threw up all over my clothes and now I have nothing to wear for this interview! Can I PLEASE wear some of your clothes?” It all came out sounding like one sentence. Your mom sat in her chair processing what you had just said for a second you thought she might say she didn’t have anything for you that would suit you. That was when she snapped her fingers and lit up.

“I got just the thing! Follow me!” She hopped out of her chair and jogged up to her bedroom. You followed closely behind, wondering what she could possibly have in mind. While you and your mom were similar in body type She was taller than you and sometimes her style clashed with yours. You could only hope and pray she wouldn’t have you looking like an old woman or something out of an experimental fashion magazine. You watched as she paged through her closet like a well versed book.

“Where is it?” She mumbled, “I know I still have it.” She flipped back and forth between a down right ugly shirt and a power suit. One more brightly colored blazer to the left she sprang up, “Ah! Here it is! I knew I kept it!” She pulled out a high waisted pinstripe suspender jumpsuit. She handed them to you with a look of pure excitement. You were a little skeptical on how they would look on you but you didn’t really have any other options at this point. You walked down the hall to your room and closed the door behind you. You managed to find a black and white button up to go with the outfit. When you put it all together you were pleasantly surprised with how you looked. The high waist hugged you nicely and the pant legs flared out giving you comfort and style… except they were too long. You looked like a child that was wearing her mothers clothes. You hiked them up and waddled back to your mom’s room.

She hopped off her bed, “Gah! Look at you! You look so cute!” She giddily clapped her hands together with a wide smile.

You grimaced, “Mom, the legs.”

She fanned a hand at you dismissively, “Oh, that’s an easy fix.”

You watched as she rummaged through the drawer on her nightstand and pulled out a small sewing kit. She dramatically motioned you over to a small step stool next to her dresser. You chuckled and shook your head as you walked over. You took your place on your pedestal and watched as your mom worked her magic. She had been a seamstress for over thirty years. You had seen her work on others and yourself multiple times but she never ceased to amaze you with how fast and accurate she was. It was

“Aaaaaannnnd there! It’s just a simple basting stitch which will hold for now. I’ll make it permanent when you get home.” She eyed her handy work with a proud smile.

You hopped off the stool and gave a little twirl. The height was perfect. You hugged your mom tight, “Thanks, mom. You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” She hugged you back just as tight.

You pulled away and gave her a kiss on her cheek before running back to your room to get ready. You looked at the time and realized you needed to get going like NOW! You did your hair and makeup keeping it simple. You grabbed a white cross body bag and a pair of heeled Mary Janes. You tossed your keys and phone in your bag and made it down the stairs without shoes in hand. You sat on the small stoop, cursing as you wrestled with the small buckle of your shoes aiming to put them on in record time.

“Ding!” Your phone sang from your purse. You pulled your phone out to see a message from an unknown number. You opened the message to find the following:

“Hello Y/N, this is Geto Suguru. I hope that you don’t mind, but there’s been a change in venue. Please meet me at the following address.”

You paste the address into Google to find that it was a cafe next to a park.

“Maybe if I run I can make it…” you thought sarcastically. This new place was actually twenty minutes further than the first place. Now you had two options- tell him you’d be late or run to your mom again. Yea, the train was fast but you were already running behind and the only thing that would save your skin now was borrowing your mom’s car.

“You’re still here! I thought you had to go?” You heard from down the hall.

“Mom! Can I borrow your car?” You asked as you hopped up to face her.

Her brow furrowed, “I can give you a ride, but I’m not letting you take my car.”

You clapped your hands together and begged, “Mom, please! I promise I’ll bring it back in one piece!”

“No. Do you remember what happened to your car!” She put her hands on her hips.

“I crashed it…” you mumbled under your breath, “But that was the past! It wasn’t even my fault!” You yelled trying to Gloss over the subject.

“That was six months ago! And I don’t care!! Either, I drive you or no deal.” Her expression was hard. Your mom trusted you with a lot of things but driving was not one of them. Granted the accident wasn’t your fault but it was clear she was not budging.

You glanced at the cat clock on the wall watching the seconds tick down as its tail and eyes moved from side to side. You did not have the time for this. As the minute hand ticked forward you had no choice but to give, “Fine! Please, give me a ride! I’ll make it up to you later!”

Your mom was far too smug for your liking, “That’s what I thought.” She slipped on her sandals and grabbed her keys.