#anyway i have to be up for work in 7 hours so ill be trying to fall asleep soon lol

[toastsnaffler]

feeling very weird today 😖

[ikyw-t]

initial thoughts on GUTS!

well my initial faves, in approximate order:

- all american bitch

- lacy

- vampire

- bad idea right?

- get him back

you'll remark that these are most of the feisty and gutsy songs (hehe). I think that the latter half of the album will definitely grow on me, especially since I didn't rly connect with anything on sour on first listen except for deja vu which I was obsessed with from the first time I heard it.

overall I feel like this album is pretty strong lyrically, but I feel like most of the best lyrics are on the songs I've mentioned above. altho I'm sure songs like the grudge and love is embarrassing will grow on me but tbh making the bed, pretty isn't pretty and teenage dream didn't make much of an impression on me at this point. again. I just love pop music with a little bite to it y'know? and I love ballads too like most of the sour album but those feel in between and therefore don't immediately appeal to me. but again they will likely grow on me, as will ballad of a homeschool girl and logical

[poppadom0912]

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.  

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.  

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.  

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.  

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.  

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.  

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.  

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.  

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.  

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

If the Sun Starts Setting

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 7

Series Masterlist         Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: Swearing, family drama, characters celebrating Christmas, mom with terminal illness, crying mentions

a/n: Sorry to post this so late everyone! I have had the WORST brain fog today. I hope you enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs fuel me!

After just one semester of law school, the drive between suburban Connecticut and the Columbia campus was one you were becoming well-acquainted with. It wasn’t unbearably long, nor flooded with traffic on a dark Sunday evening. Headlights of oncoming vehicles painted swatches of light against the navy sky, a semi-urban work of art unlike anything you’d enjoyed before. Usually, it was a sight you took the time to admire. However, this particular evening you were unable to focus on anything but the tinny voice bubbling out of your phone’s speaker. 

Gritting your teeth and rolling your eyes to the heavens, you cursed the universe for a moment, tuning out the man on the other end of the line while you did so.

The sharp call of your name across the speakers regained your attention. ”Are you listening to me?“

Your father's inflection was grating on the best days. After three weeks spent waiting on him and your two ungrateful siblings while they preached about the importance of family during the holidays, you were ready to scream with every word he spat at you. The two hour drive back to campus was supposed to be the growing light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, you'd spent the last third of it arguing with your father about healthcare charges.

”Yes, I'm listening.“ ‘Unlike some of us’, you thought to yourself. ”As I said, that charge was for her brief hospital stay over Thanksgiving. I've already paid it and it might take a week or two to reflect—“

”This is a debt collection notice, hun. That means they didn't receive the payment yet. Which means they'll be coming after me when your mom inevitably cannot pay.“

Contemplating banging your head against your steering wheel just to remove the memory of this conversation, a flash of movement across the parking lot caught your eye. Expression softening, you almost sobbed in relief when you caught the two beaming expressions of your friends waving from the exterior door. Unfortunately, your father wasn't quite done arguing with you.

”Dad, I understand you don't want to be on the hook for this—“ ‘Not like you would be anyway.’

”I most certainly do not.“ He interrupted. Once again ignoring his rambling, you snatched your backpack and exited your car, slamming the door with a bit more force than usual.

”Dad, just forget about it, ok? I'll deal with it, just—“

”Well, clearly you won't deal with it in a timely fashion, which is why I'm calling...“ ‘Was he trying to kill you? It sure felt like it.’

”Ok, well I just got back to school so I need to go now.“ You tried to nudge him into polite farewells as you practically sprinted across the pavement towards your friends. As expected, he didn't take kindly to being rushed off the phone.

”Of course you do,“ He laughed incredulously. ”You know, this is your mother's livelihood we are discussing. It wouldn't kill you to be a bit more compassionate.“ ‘You're one to talk asshole.’

”You're right. I'll try to work on that this semester,“ You remarked drily. ”Gonna go inside now. Bye.“

Not bothering to listen to the screaming that answered your callous goodbye, you hung up, breaking into a strained smile as you greeted your boys. ”Why hello there, strangers.“

As if he didn't just witness you walk literally and figuratively closer to a breakdown, Foggy squealed, nearly taking you to the pavement in a tackling hug. “Welcome back, bug!”

“Christ, Fog, you're gonna crush her.” Matt laughed, hearing you grunt as you fumbled to stay upright with Foggy coiled around you like a boa constrictor.

“I missed you too, Fog.” You murmured, tears welling in your eyes at the sensation of being embraced.

You had missed them. Deeply and almost pathetically. After an entire semester at each other's sides, the few weeks in your hometown for Christmas had felt like an eternity.

After Matt and Foggy had been struck with the campus flu, the rest of the semester passed in a whirlwind. The two clingy boys had unsurprisingly infected you, meaning you were unfortunately sick for Thanksgiving and had to remain on campus to avoid passing the virus on to your immunosuppressed mother. Matt had been incredibly apologetic, and plagued with his typical Catholic guilt, so he'd stayed with you while Foggy returned to Hell's Kitchen for Turkey Day.

The next few weeks were spent cramming for finals and, eventually, celebrating the end of your first semester at Columbia—which you had all, amazingly, passed. Leaving for the lengthier winter break had been an abrupt end to the joy you felt over your grades, however.

You returned to New Haven a day earlier than expected to sit in the local hospital's oncology ward with your mother. While you were ill over Thanksgiving, she'd had a recurrence of stage 3 pancreatic cancer, which meant more frequent trips to see her doctor as well as numerous bills that neither of you could afford. Because of her declining health, your father and siblings had come to Connecticut for Christmas. The extra company meant that your holidays–which were meant to be a time for recuperation following a strenuous first semester–had been frustrating to the point of tears. Which, embarrassingly enough, Matt had been burdened with when you called him to complain.

The two of you called multiple times a week, exchanging stories and annoyances just like you did when you were living within a few blocks from each other. But it didn't stop you from missing him and Foggy fiercely for 24 excruciating days.

Swallowing a lump of pent up emotion, you huffed out a shaky exhale, your breath clouding in the frigid winter air. “Ok, Fog. You know I love you, but it's cold as fuck out here.”

“Right! Sorry.” Foggy withdrew from the embrace, blushing furiously as he scratched at the back of his neck.

Immediately replacing Foggy in front of you, Matt took a chance to hug you quickly before pulling you inside. “Glad you're finally here, I thought Nelson here was going to combust.”

Letting Matt usher you inside, you heard Foggy's baffled scoff. “Do I look like a patient man to you, Murdock?”

Matt smirked, “How would I know?”

You and Foggy both groaned loudly, looking to each other for support as Matt cackled. “C'mon, you set that one up perfectly. What's a guy to do?”

“You should've heard him over break, bug. He was driving my poor mother towards a stroke, I swear.” Foggy shook his head in feigned irritation.

“Oh please, she loved me.” Matt shoved his roommate, nearly bowling the three of you down the staircase as you trudged toward their room.

“I bet she did.” You snorted, “You probably dialed the charm up to 11.”

“Try 15.” Foggy remarked, unlocking the door and shoving it open.

Ignoring the jab, Matt held out a hand for your bag, allowing you to slip out of your coat and shoes.

“Who were you on the phone with?” His question was meant to open the can of worms in a structured way, rather than answer his own burning question. He’d bet dollars to donuts that it was–

“My father.” Came your fatigued response, confirming his suspicions. Your words were tinged with a bitterness that he’d expected, but they held a deeper upset thinly veiled by your exhaustion.  

“Is everything ok?” Foggy asked quietly, his brow pinching with worry as he studied the bags under your eyes. The blond was less informed on the hell you’d been put through over the last month or so, only picking up bits and pieces if Matt relayed them.

With a groan, you collapsed unceremoniously onto Matt’s bed beside him, leaning heavily into him as one of his arms fell across your shoulders. “Of course, it’s just…it wasn’t the pleasant send off I was hoping for.”

Your pulse jumped when you spoke, steadying out as you reached the end of your sentence. Matt already knew that things weren’t “ok” with your mom or your home life in general, but he blinked in surprise to hear the disappointment that coated your words as you referenced your father’s curt goodbye. Making a note to bring that up when you seemed more inclined to be vulnerable, he rubbed a palm over your arm in a comforting gesture.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish it had been better.”

Huffing a tiny laugh, you let your head fall against his shoulder. “Me too. How were your holidays?”

“Pleasant.” Matt murmured at the same time Foggy clapped his hands together.

“Fantastic! I forced Matt to watch all of the Star Wars movies with me and we ate our weight in cookies.” The long-haired boy explained with genuine enthusiasm. As he began to recount the escapades from the annual Nelson holiday party, your eyes flicked upwards to look at Matt, whose arm was still moving slowly across your shoulder and back as he caressed your sleeve. His eyes were trained forward, but a muscle in his jaw twitched as you focused on him, so you had a sneaking suspicion that neither of you were listening to Foggy’s story. You’d forgotten how well he could read you, until he gave you the option to pretend everything was fine with your dad.

He knew it wasn’t, and you did too. And maybe shoving that shit deep down and pretending it didn’t exist wasn’t a healthy way of handling it, but if you met Foggy’s worried gaze right now it would make you cry, which you were not prepared for. So, whether it was a wonderful coincidence or Matt could truly read you like a picture book, you were thankful for his deflection.

Smiling softly, you looked back to Foggy, listening to him talk about his drunk aunts fawning over Matt and feeling the thick tension bleed out of your shoulders.

Eventually, Foggy took a deep breath, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Woah, head rush!”

Matt chuckled, “You didn’t even stand up, buddy. You ok over there?”

“Yah, I’m fine! Just excited!” Foggy waved a hand, unfazed.

“And I can’t wait to hear about everything, Fog. But maybe we should take a break for presents?”

“Presents?” Foggy’s eyes widened along with his grin, his behavior as animated as a child’s at the mention of gifts. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

You laughed, prying yourself out of Matt’s secure grip and opening your bag. Tossing two wrapped bundles across the room and onto Foggy’s bed, you set the other two in Matt’s lap.

“Merry Christmas, my lovely Musketeers!” You giggled as Foggy mime-fenced toward you. As soon as the blond was finished beating you in the imaginary sword fight, he eagerly tore into the glittery wrapping paper. Next to you, Matt looked much more apprehensive about the packages in his lap.

“Go on, Matty. Open them!” You encouraged, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“But we don’t have anything for you,” Matt’s lips curled into a pout, looking like a sulking kitten as he trailed a single finger along the crisp edge of the parcel nearest to his hand.

You rolled your eyes fondly. The poor kid had a strong enough sense of justice for the whole campus. ”Matty, we're in college. And I'm the only one with a job. I didn't expect you to get me anything.“

”But—“ Matt argued, but you cut him off with a laugh.

”No more buts! I got these presents for you because I wanted to, not because I thought I’d receive something in return. Please open them?“ Though he couldn't see your face, you batted your lashes and widened your eyes, hoping he could sense the pleading expression.

With a frown, he nodded once, carefully peeling the tape from the paper as if the task required surgical precision. Grinding his teeth as the paper crinkled raucously, he slid the first gift out of its casing carefully, as if he was expecting it to shock him if he moved too quickly. Withdrawing a lump of the softest material he'd ever felt, he ran a thumb over it, trying to decipher what it was. The strip of wool was composed of thick braided stitches, promising to retain warmth in even the most bitter winter weather.

”A scarf?“ He asked, his lips pursed into a small, surprised oval. A rosy blush dusted the tops of his cheeks.

”Yes! I made one for you and one for Foggy. Except yours is a deep red and his is orange.” You spoke softly, smiling over to where the longer-haired boy was wrapping the length of yarn around his neck triumphantly.

“Our favorite colors.” Matt murmured, his fingers still tracing the fuzzy stitching. “You remembered?“

”Of course I did, trouble. That's important information. I'd be a fool to let it slip through the cracks.“ You hoped the joke would make him laugh, but he continued to stare blankly at the scarf as if it was an animal that had just died in his arms. ”If you don't like it, I can take it back, and donate it or something–“

”No!“ Matt looked up, horrified, clutching the scarf to his chest. ”No, I love it. I just...“

Turning his face back to his lap, he licked his lips before continuing. ”I've never gotten something like this before. I don't know what to say, is all.“

”No need to say anything, bub. I'm glad you like it.“ You rubbed your palm over his arm, mirroring his actions from just a moment ago.

Still focused on his own gifts, Foggy's excited screech startled both you and Matt. ”NO WAY!“

Turning to you with a dropped jaw, Foggy shook his head. ”There is no way you got this.“

”What is it, buddy?“ Matt asked, his lips curled into a soft smile as he heard Foggy open a hardcover book eagerly.

”A first edition of The Fellowship of the Ring!“ Foggy was practically giddy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rifled through the pages. ”How did you even get this?“

Grinning at him, you giggled. ”My mom has a friend with an extensive book collection and asked where we could find one. Turns out, the friend had one of her own and was willing to part with it for next to nothing. Guess she owed my mom a favor.”

Diving across the room to crush you in another hug, Foggy kissed the top of your head. “Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!”

Laughing brightly, you struggled to shove your friend off of you. When he was this worked up, Foggy had the tenacity of an overexcited golden retriever. As usual, Matt helped release you from his clutches. ”You're welcome, Fog. I wanted to get you a nice copy since you lost the one you brought to school.”

“I'd say you accomplished that, my lovely jitterbug.” Foggy ruffled your hair, retreating to his bed and launching himself onto the mattress–the rusted springs creaking in protest.

Giggling at him, you turned back to Matt. “Alright, Murdock. Your turn, again. After this, I promise never to put you through this torture again. Until next year.”

Matt groaned in response, snatching the second gift with more vigor. “Let's get this over with.”

Approaching the gift with the same systematic tactic as the first, he slid the paper off of the box without a single tear. Setting the wrapping aside, he opened the cardboard package and pulled out his real gift.

“Ok so, I'm not sure how helpful these will be,” You warned, fidgeting with your hands as he ran his fingers along the band connecting the ear pieces. “But, they're, um, noise-canceling headphones?”

Matt's breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed with guilt and affection and surprise at the present, all words of gratitude pulled back down to his vocal chords as he focused solely on not bursting into tears.

Over the past few weeks, the Nelsons had been kind enough to invite him to stay and celebrate with them. He was flattered, and so thankful, but he wasn't used to so many...people. During a few of your phone calls over the break, he'd mentioned that the excessive stimuli, mainly noise, had been getting to him and giving him headaches. And rather than chastising him for being ungrateful, you'd listened and sympathized with him over the phone, ultimately buying him a solution to the issue with your own money.

Sure, there was no guarantee that these would work for his heightened senses, but you didn't know that. And the idea that you were willing to go to such immense lengths to ensure his comfort...it was evidence of a love he hadn't experienced in a decade.

“Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?” Your worried murmur broke his train of thought.

“No,” He choked out. ”No, they're perfect. So is the scarf. Thank you, bug.“

”Of course. Merry Christmas, Matt.“ You kissed his cheek gently and he felt a flush crawling up his neck. Wrapping an arm around you, he tucked you close to his chest, hand cradling the back of your neck.

”Merry Christmas, sweetheart.“

The two of you sat there in silence, holding each other close for a minute before your phone rang. Sighing deeply, you rested your head against Matt's shoulder as you fumbled for your phone. Thankfully, the screen displayed your mom's contact information, not your father.

“Sorry, trouble. I have to take this.“ You squeezed his arm, pulling out of his embrace and stretching as you stood. ”I'll be right back. Hopefully.“

Smiling at your near-groan, Matt jerked his chin towards the door. ”We'll be here.“

Slipping into the hallway, you lowered your voice. ”Hey mama, everything ok?“

”Hey baby, everything's fine, just had a couple questions for you about bills.“ Her sweet voice was strained and you could practically see her flicking her gaze to meet your father's, his metaphorical gun to her head as she made the call.

”Ok,“ You ground out, trying not to snap at her when she wasn't the reason you were frustrated. ”Um, what questions did you have?”

“You did pay the one from November?” She asked, predictably.

“I did. It'll reflect soon and Dad has nothing to worry about. The bill is attached to our names, not his. That's why Collections isn't writing to him.“ You explained as calmly as you could, knowing that she was aware of this already, but probably had you on speakerphone. ”Was that all?“

”Not exactly.“ Her tone shifted, pitching lower and sounding almost embarrassed. A crackle rippled over the line and suddenly your father's gruff voice replaced the one you adored.

“You need to come home next weekend to help your mom with the next round of billing. I've run out of time off and can no longer assist.” He commanded, the ‘compassion’ he held for her livelihood nowhere to be found.

‘Oh because you were so helpful this month when you were ordering us around.’  You griped internally. “What round of billing? The one from Thanksgiving–”

“Was four appointments ago. These things aren't free, you know. They’re wanting us to pay for them.”

Both you and your bank account were intimately familiar with the steep cost of her treatment. Inhaling deeply, you paced a few steps from Matt and Foggy's room. “I know they aren't free. We signed her up for a payment plan two weeks ago that offers a deferral–”

“She was denied.” His laconic answer made your spirits plummet as time came to a halt. Your pounding heart froze in place, dread creeping up your spine. 

“What?” On the off chance that he was being unintentionally misleading, you needed to clarify.

Your mother's apologetic voice came over the line once again. ”I wasn't accepted into the financial assistance program, baby. But, it's ok! I can pick up more shifts–“

”No!” You exclaimed, the shrill edge of your cry echoing down the hallway. You tried again, digging your nails into the flesh of your palm as you fought to keep your voice steady.

“Don't...you don't need to do that mama. I don't want you to overwork yourself. I'll come home on Friday and we can talk about options, ok?“ You bargained, running through your work schedule in your head to create a plan.

”Are you sure, honey? Won't you be busy getting a head start on the semester?“ 

Blinking back tears at her obvious care for you, you cleared your throat before answering. “It’s alright, mama. It’s just syllabus week, I’m sure I’ll have time to come home and sort things out.”

“She’ll make time.” Your father’s promise was more for your mom than you, but it felt like a swift kick to the gut all the same. 

Because you would make time. You had to. No one else would. You were your mom’s last line of defense. Prioritizing yourself and failing to be there for her wasn’t an option you had. The emotional burden you were carrying felt impossibly heavy, as if there was a line of anvils across your shoulders and chest, slowly forcing the oxygen out of your lungs until you perished. 

“Of course I will. I’ll see you this weekend, mama. Love you.” You choked out, slapping a palm over your mouth before you broke. 

“I love you too, baby. Have a good week at school!” You could picture her tired smile as she wished you a proper goodbye, the image cracking your composure. 

You hung up before the first tear rolled down your cheek. Dropping your face into your hands, you bit your lip to stifle a sob, letting the tears flow silently instead. Falling back against the wall behind you, you let your legs give out as you collapsed to the disgusting dorm hallway carpet. 

The blood rushing in your ears drowned out the noises drifting through the thin walls, an urge to scream churned in your chest. Ugly, rage filled sobs were barreling up your throat, desperately trying to claw their way out, to make your pain known. Hunching over your knees in a pitiful crouch, you shielded your face with your arms, preventing any passersby from seeing your much-needed meltdown. 

Choking out a breath around another half-smothered sob, you nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder. Looking up frantically, the outburst downgraded to a strangled whine when you saw Matt’s furrowed brow directed at you. 

Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, opening his arms with a frown. Throwing yourself into his embrace, you couldn’t help the hideous sounds that escaped you as he enveloped you in his muscular arms with ease. Tucking your head under his chin, you shook violently against his chest as you bawled. 

“I can’t do this, Matt. I can’t–” You gasped out, your breath stuttering as you wept forcefully into his shoulder. 

Shushing you gently, he rubbed circles into your back with his large hand.

Whimpering at the touch, you wiped at your tear-streaked face furiously. “”I’m barely an adult. How am I supposed to do this?” Your voice shattered around the words, throat constricting with anguish.

“I don’t know,” Matt cooed, stroking a fresh pair of tears away from your skin with his thumbs. “But I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’ll get through it together.” 

Burying your face into his neck miserably, you shuddered with distaste. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You don’t have to ask.” He whispered gravely, pressing a kiss to your crown. 

With that promise, your brain seemed to shut off. Your tears gradually slowed to a halt, leaving you dazed and exhausted in Matt’s lap. Heaving out a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes, letting his soft touches wash over you like the tides. Kissing your forehead tenderly, Matt cupped your cheek. 

“Why don’t we go sit somewhere softer than this shitty floor, hmm?” His small question was meant to make you laugh, but your fatigue had chased away every other emotion. 

Nodding softly, you let Matt pull you from the ground and back into his room, welcoming the darkness after the harsh fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Sliding off his glasses and placing them on his nightstand, he guided you to Foggy’s bed. The blond frowned at you, setting his book aside. 

“You ok, bug?” He asked, sitting up to inspect your puffy eyes.

Shaking your head tiredly, you crawled onto his mattress and let him wrap you in a hug. Matt, with an impressive amount of agility, somehow leapt onto the bed behind you, snaking his arms around your middle so that you were sandwiched between him and his roommate. You listened to their steady breathing, letting the sound lull you into a more peaceful state of mind. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Matt’s lips scratched over the back of your head. “Fog, think you could read some of your book for us?”

“Uh, yah totally.” Foggy pouted, gaze still lingering on your drained face. “Let me just find my page.”

The combination of your worn-out consciousness and the comforting presence of your two best friends was dangerous. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel yourself drifting off. 

As if reading your thoughts, Matt kissed your hair. “Go on, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

Squeezing his fingers, you stopped fighting the darkness pulling at the edges of your vision, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

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[shadow-bringer-ao3]

How to Save the World by Hatake Kakashi

It all starts when, for the first time since he lost his team, Hatake Kakashi shows up precisely on time for a meeting. The Sandaime Hokage, who has grown used to his current most skilled shinobi being an upwards of three hours late most days, had not actually been prepared for Kakashi to slip through his window at exactly seven, landing without a sound just inside the room before wandering over to his desk.

He looks more tired than usual, Hiruzen notes, not even making an attempt to hide his weariness. It bodes ill, he thinks. Last time Kakashi had looked like this, he had taken so many S-rank missions back to back that Hiruzen had had to put him on guard duty to get him to rest. This doesn’t feel quite the same but he can’t help but think it’s no better.

“Hokage-sama,” Kakashi greets.

“You’re early,” is all Hiruzen can think to say for a moment. Kakashi hums, rolling his shoulders in the approximation of a shrug.

“I had a nightmare,” Kakashi says lightly. Hiruzen blinks, surprised that the man would be so candid— “You see, the moon came down and it told me ‘Kakashi, one day you’ll be the Rokudaime Hokage’ and then it started dancing with Uchiha Madara except Madara had Hashirama-sama’s face on his chest.” Ah. Well, that kind of excuse is certainly more in line with how Kakashi usually acts even if it makes Hiruzen more concerned for how the man’s mind works.

“Is that so.” Hiruzen carefully makes sure his voice is nowhere near questioning. Kakashi nods gamely anyway, his visible eye curling into a smile that gives Hiruzen a bad feeling.

“Mhm but that’s not all the moon told me,” Kakashi says cheerfully.

When it’s clear his shinobi is expecting some sort of response, Hiruzen responds blandly with, “how intriguing.” Kakashi leans forward conspiratorially and, despite himself, Hiruzen copies the movement.

“It also told me…” Kakashi pauses dramatically before saying, “that I must go soul-searching.” Hiruzen blinks at the Hatake before mechanically dropping his blank gaze to the hitai-ate slid across his desk. Hiruzen looks slowly back up at Kakashi. For the first time since the war, Hiruzen can see both of the boy’s eyes.

“Soul-searching,” he echoes. He’s fairly sure Hatake Kakashi, perhaps his best ANBU and the most unlucky shinobi currently in the village, just quit. Something which is actually illegal, despite his leniency towards Tsunade.

“I’m glad you understand!” Kakashi chirps. Chirps. What.

“What.” Kakashi just beams at him and… vanishes in a swirl of air? Hiruzen stares at where the shinobi was and then realizes that, before anything else, he’s going to have to find a new prospective sensei for the new prospective Team 7. He’s also going to have to fill out the paperwork to officially discharge Kakashi from ANBU. He’s also got to decide if he’s going to list Kakashi as a rogue-nin or hand wave his absence like he did Tsunade’s.

“Fuck.” He says emphatically and gets busy trying to figure out who to assign Team 7 to. Ebisu doesn’t have a team but he’s never been the sort Hiruzen really wants in charge of teaching the next generation of shinobi, Genma doesn’t have a team but he’s as liable to throw the brats headlong into the Forest of Death as he is to actually teach them, Tenzo is strong and worked with Kakashi long enough to understand the basics of the sharingan but Hiruzen would be loathe to lose another skilled ANBU…

Kisame is being followed. Or Itachi is but it amounts to the same thing. Itachi’s noticed it as well, his sharingan active and his eyes flicking to take in the forest around them. There are very few people out there that could follow around the two of them without getting caught and none who would have a reason to as opposed to attacking or running.

Maybe they want to join the Akatsuki? Although if they think this is the way to make a good first impression, Kisame is pretty sure they don’t want them. Of course, there’s not really any missing-nin listed in any of Bingo Books that are skilled enough to be considered for the Akatsuki anyway.

Of course, Kisame thinks blandly when their stalker finally wanders into sight, nose buried in a book, Hatake Kakashi is not a missing-nin by any measure and he’s definitely at the skill level of an Akatsuki prospect. Kisame and Itachi do not exchange a glance because they’re more professional than that but the urge is there.

“Oh hello Hoshigaki-san, Itachi-kun,” Hatake greets pleasantly, eyes curling into crescents. And that’s a surprise too— last Kisame knew, the Konoha shinobi wore his hitai-ate over his scarred eye. Although, now that Kisame is looking for it, he can’t actually see any hitai-ate.

“…Hatake-san,” Kisame returns because Hatake was polite. Itachi appears to have gone catatonic. In light of this, Kisame finds himself asking “what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know,” Hatake says happily, “soul-searching.”

“Soul-searching,” Kisame echoes. The situation is not making any more sense as time goes on.

“Mhm,” Hatake hums, attention back on his book. Kisame finally gives into the urge to glance at his partner but Itachi is placidly watching Hatake and doesn’t seem to notice Kisame’s questioning look.

“…Kakashi-taichou?” Itachi finally inquires after a long pause. The honorific is a little concerning since Itachi hasn’t been a Konoha shinobi for a long time now but Kisame’s willing to give him the benefit of the doubt considering how strange this interaction has been.

“Say, Itachi,” Hatake starts, eyes still glued to his book, “what would you do if the moon was evil?” Okay, what the fuck. That’s not a normal question. Itachi’s brow furrows but Kisame genuinely can’t tell if it’s because he’s pondering his answer or because Hatake just asked something insane. Sage, what if Konoha shinobi are just like this? Kisame can’t deal with Itachi asking him his opinion on evil moons or— or lonely suns or whatever.

“I would destroy it,” Itachi says eventually. Kisame wonders if his partner is being serious or if this is some sort of weird code. At this point, he’d almost prefer it if his partner was a traitor and this was all some weird code that would make sense at a later time. Hatake hums again.

“If you say so,” the weird man says cheerily before wandering into the forest with his nose still buried in his book.

“What the fuck.” Itachi, ever in Big Brother Mode, gives him a Look for the swear.

Maybe this whole day has been a fever dream…

Kakashi is in Kamui. Obito has no idea how long Kakashi has been in Kamui but there he is, relaxing against a block, reading Icha Icha. He does not, Obito notices, have a hitai-ate. He also doesn’t have his father’s tanto and Obito honestly can’t remember a time Kakashi was without that tanto when outside Konoha. Maybe he assumed Kamui is safe? He would have no reason to think otherwise— he would have had to get through with Obito’s mangekyo and as far as he knows, Obito is dead.

Although, as far as Obito knew, Kakashi didn’t have access to the mangekyo. That must have changed, clearly, but he doesn’t know when or how and Obito— well, Obito has known everything about Kakashi these past years. Every mission, every failed genin team, every visit to the Memorial Stone. He hasn’t checked up on Kakashi in three days. What could have possible happened in three days to have Kakashi gain access to the mangekyo, learn to warp into kamui, and apparently retire. Or go rogue or something.

“You know,” Kakashi muses apropos nothing, “I always wondered what I would have done if I had a second chance. Save Minato-sensei, save Kushina-nee, save my father?” Kakashi flips a page in his book. “Save you, Obito?” Obito stills, every tiny fidget vanishing as his focus narrows down to Kakashi and the space between them. “I suppose it’s a moot point. I’m now, not then. There’s nothing I can do to change those events in this time, no jutsu I can use, no sacrifice I can make. The past is gone, the dead are dead. And there’s nothing either of us can do about it.” Obito debates leaving Kakashi here, talking to empty space, snuffing out whatever tiny hope his former teammate thinks he found. He debates going down there, playing Tobi or Madara or just some random eye-stealing shinobi. He debates for one moment killing Kakashi. He leaps down to land in front of him but Kakashi doesn’t so much as glance up, even though he’s clearly not reading any more. If he ever was.

“How?” He asks. Kakashi fingers the edge of Icha Icha for a moment before he snaps the book closed and slides it away, finally looking up at Obito.

“Does it matter?” Kakashi asks. Obito stares at him, thinks about his hand through Rin’s chest. He doesn’t kill Kakashi.

“Where’s your hitai-ate?” Kakashi blinks at him, apparently not expecting that question. He smiles or at least the way his eyes curve implies he does.

“I turned it in. I’m soul-searching.” Obito stares flatly, disbelieving.

“And, what, the Hokage just let you go?” Kakashi beams. Really truly beams. And it doesn’t look fake. Played up, yes, teasing, absolutely, but there’s no sardonic edge to it, no sense that it’s empty. Three days. Three days and Kakashi might as well be a different man.

“Oh, he didn’t really have much of a choice. He can’t follow me into Kamui, after all.” Kakashi sends an appreciative look around like Kamui, blocky and unending and just generally creepy, is a place to like.

“Why are you here? Why are you doing all this?” Obito asks, a note of frustration curling out from his careful control, infecting his voice and demeanor. Kakashi had always been able to drag his less savory emotions to the forefront. Irritation, annoyance, anger. Hate.

“Because you’re stuck in the past,” Kakashi says simply. “You’re looking back. For once, I’m looking forward.” Obito closes the gap between them in a moment, wrenching Kakashi up by the front of his flack jacket and slamming him back into the wall behind him.

“I am creating a future that not even you can ruin,” Obito snarls. “I’m dragging these violent, unforgivable nations to peace kicking and screaming.” Kakashi reaches out and Obito expect to feel a hand at his throat or cheek but no— Kakashi’s fingertips just hit his mask, curling lightly along it’s edge. He had forgotten he was wearing it.

“It won’t bring her back,” Kakashi says softly. “It won’t bring any of them back. An illusion is just an illusion and it will never be the same.” There’s a half-second of warning, Kakashi’s chakra spiking as the air warps, and then he’s gone, no hint of him having ever been there at all beyond the fast-fading smell of dog.

Orochimaru is in his lab when the Hatake brat steps in. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say ANBU Inu steps in. There’s no sign of Hatake’s perpetual slouch or his wandering attention, just the smooth movements and sharp focus of ANBU. Orochimaru sets down the vial he had only just picked up and keeps one careful eye on Hatake. Hatake has always been skilled, a dangerous opponent even to the Sannin, but he had always been weaker. Now, Orochimaru isn’t so sure. His chakra is smothered to just the barest hint of ozone but there is a difference in the way he holds himself, a confidence in his movements, that puts Orochimaru on edge.

The sharingan, he realizes suddenly. It no longer stands out as distinctly other. Hatake has somehow managed to integrate it into his chakra system. It probably doesn’t take nearly as much chakra as it used to, though Hatake is still keeping his eye closed. There’s no hitai-ate covering it. How… curious.

“Was there something you wanted?” Orochimaru asks. Hatake stops his circling between Orochimaru and the door. He looks far more wolf-like than he usually allows himself to.

“I’m giving you warning,” Kakashi says, “because you were once friends with people close to me.” Sakumo, Orochimaru thinks, though he hadn’t know the younger Hatake was aware his father once ran with the Sannin. “Leave Uchiha Sasuke alone,” Kakashi continues, just the hint of a growl in his voice, “or I’ll tear your throat out with my teeth.”

“Oh?” Orochimaru says dangerously, shifting forward in a clear threat. Hatake doesn’t blink, doesn’t shrink back, doesn’t tremble. There’s no fear scent in the air. “And what, pray tell, would you know about that?” Hatake regards him coldly.

“I’ll only say it once more. Leave Uchiha Sasuke out of your plans. If you want a sharingan so bad, take it up with Danzo.” Hatake is gone in the next moment, vanished into the air with no hint of a shunshin or other jutsu. Just the barest hint of red.

(Zetsu dies screaming.)

The door that blocks the entrance to the Akatsuki hideout scrapes open. This would be less noticeable if everyone in the Akatsuki wasn’t already gathered in the meeting room. Everyone stops and turns almost as one, waiting to see what idiot decided to waltz into their lair. (Konan and Pein don’t appreciate it when Deidara calls it a lair but he calls it like he sees it, un.)

When the idiot is revealed to be Hatake Kakashi, of all people, the air turns just a hair more panicky. The sound of Kisame’s forehead meeting the table is loud in the quiet. Hatake wanders further in, nose buried in a book (is that porn?!), and drops into the seat Zetsu once used without a word. It was shock that stilled everyone’s hand initially but now no one makes a move because if they can avoid a fight with Hatake Kakashi, man of a thousand justsu, why the fuck wouldn’t they? He couldn’t beat them all but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t do some serious damage before he died. It is, surprisingly, Itachi that speaks up first.

“Why are you here, Kakashi-taichou?” He asks politely.

“I’m terrorizing your boss into having morals again,” Hatake informs. He flips a page in his book. Itachi placidly stops Kisame from slamming his head against the table again.

“What the fuck?” Deidara puts out there. Because honestly, what the fuck.

“Don’t mind me,” Hatake says cheerfully. He flips a page in his book. Deidara’s not sure he’s actually reading.

“…I have morals,” Pein says after a long moment. Hatake hums and flips another page in his book. He doesn’t respond. After a moment, Konan clears her throat.

“If you don’t leave, we are going to have to kill you, Hatake-san.” Finally, Hatake looks up, book snapping shut in his hold. His one open eye scans over them all and Deidara scowls when it gets to him. Hatake might not be an Uchiha but everyone knows he has one of their eyes. Deidara hates the stupid sharingan.

“Maa, that’s not very nice,” Hatake says lightly. “I’m really only here to visit an old friend.”

“Who the fuck is friends with you?” Hidan snaps. “Fucking Itachi?!” Hatake blinks. It’s slow and lazy like. Deidara wonders if the guy thinks they’re threats at all.

“No,” he says. He does not elaborate. After a moment he opens his book back up. There’s only a second before the air twists and an arm appears to drag Hatake away into thin air. They all stare at the now empty seat. Kisume attempts to brain himself again, once more stopped by Itachi.

“What the fuck?” Deidara says again because it really cannot be said enough. Seriously, Konoha nin are the worst.

“What are you doing?” Obito snarls. He’s got Kakashi jammed up against a cube in Kamui again though considering the stupid genius asshole managed to escape last time he doesn’t figure he’ll be overly successful at keeping him here this time. He should just stab him. Leave him to die. Obito’s going to get a better version of him and Rin in the Infinite Tsukuyomi anyway, what’s the point of leaving him alive if he’s being more trouble than he’s worth?

“Weren’t you listening?” Kakashi asks innocently. “I’m terrorizing you into having morals again. I can’t punch you and make you good or talk you into being better or threaten to take away your right to bones or anything so this is the best I can do.” The worst part about it, Obito thinks, the worst part is that he sounds so genuine while saying such insane shit.

“Kakashi.” Obito stops because he’s not entirely sure how he should respond to something like that. “Kakashi, literally what the fuck.”

“What’s the point of putting the entire world under an illusion, anyway? Sure. everyone would get their perfect little worlds but they would all starve to death,” Kakashi says. Obito stares at him.

“What.”

“If everyone was in an illusion,” Kakashi says patiently, “how would they eat? Or drink, actually? Or have kids? Everyone would just die.”

“That— no, they— this fucking world sucks, anyway, and if everyone dies happy, what does it matter?!” Kakashi frowns at him. He looks disappointed which is entirely unfair. Kakashi should hate him or be angry with him but he just looks— tired. Disappointed. Sad but in a resigned kind of way. It’s not— even now, it’s not the empty exhaustion that’s plagued him since Obito killed Minato-sensei and Kushina-nee (oh god, he killed them, they were family and he killed them).

“It’s not peace if everyone’s dead,” Kakashi said. “And illusions aren’t real. That happiness isn’t real. Even the sharingan can’t trick an entire world to believe an entirely fake lifetime. It won’t work, Obito. If you don’t want to come back to Konoha, that’s fine, I’ll stay with you. If you want to work towards peace, that’s fine. But starting a war where the end result is an entire dead planet is not the way to get it.” Obito stares at Kakashi. Kakashi, who would leave Konoha for him even though Konoha is everything to him. Kakashi, who was always the smartest one on their team. Kakashi, who agrees that things should be better. Kakashi, who he can’t bring himself to kill. Kakashi, who he knows is right.

Obito runs.

Something very strange is happening in the world right now. Jiraiya has feelers out in just about every nation. He’s probably the most knowledgeable spymaster in the world. The things he knows go as follows:

One: Hatake Kakashi, his grand-student, has left Konohagakure in a not dissimilar way to how Tsunade left Konoha. This makes less than zero sense because Kakashi adores Konoha. It’s all the kid has left. Jiraiya lost everything and left. Kakashi lost everything and he sold his soul to Konoha. Kakashi is obsessive to the point of concern and there is no earthly reason Jiraiya can possibly come up with that explains why Kakashi is not still at Konoha.

Two: something happened with the Akatsuki. They’ve been exceedingly quiet lately, barely doing more than the absolute minimun required to keep a terrorist organizaion afloat. Nagato and Konan have redoubled their presence in Amegakure which feels a little like a step in the right direction, if Jiraiya’s being honest. There’s not been a whisper about the Akatsuki’s plans regarding the bijuu.

Three: something happened over at Mountains’ Graveyard. Let him rephrase. Something exploded over at Mountains’ Graveyard. It had to have been a big explosion as well because that’s an area that’s pretty universally avoided.

Four: Kiri has gone abruptly silent. The only thing Jiraiya’s managed to get out of that is that the Mizukage apparently had a complete change in personality.

Other things have happened as well, a cascade effect of change across every nation. Kakashi seems to be at the center of a good quarter of things he comes across. Nothing that makes sense. Most of the rest of it seems tied to the Akatsuki’s missing presence or the missions they are taking or it’s tied to the absolute nothing coming in and out of Kiri.

Something very strange is happening in the world. Jiraiya just hopes it’s a good strange.

Tsunade opens the door to the Hatake brat and a guy in an Akatsuki cloak and an orange mask. Tsunade slams the door shut. Shizune is gone, dealing with their last matters in town before they leave. Tsunade is not drunk. She knows this. She knows intimately every stage of drunkenness and how it affects her. Tsunade is not drunk. She opens the door. Hatake and the Akatsuki guy are still there.

“What the fuck do you want?” She demands.

“How do you feel about healing—” Tsunade slams the door in their faces. When she turns around to go out the window, they’re in the middle of the room. “Rude,” Hatake says, like he didn’t just teleport into her hotel room uninvited. “I know you don’t like blood and all but I’m trying to stop the end of the world, here.” Tsunade stares at them. She thinks for a moment about the effects of repeated head trauma and then about the average injuries a shinobi usually gets in a year. She decides that Kakashi has no brain left and that she does not want any part in this, for a variety of reasons.

“Get out of my room,” she says.

“It’s not technically your room,” Hatake tries.

“Out,” Tsunade interrupts loudly. Hatake sighs and looks like a kicked puppy but does grab his oddly silent companion by the elbow and drag them past her, out the door.

“I told you she wouldn’t help,” the Akatsuki guy says with a surprisingly low voice before Tsunade slams the door shut behind them. She waits until she’s sure they’re gone before opening the door and heading down towards where she knows Shizune will be waiting. She’ll deal with whatever the fuck that was exactly never.

It started with Hatake Kakashi showing up on time. Hiruzen will not budge on that. He’s half convinced he somehow ended up in an alternate universe where everything is just a little weird and that was the first sign. It started with Kakashi. It continued with Jiraiya coming back, looking uneasy and hesitantly hopeful with news that apparently bad things are just. Resolving themselves. It continued with Team 7 (under Gekko Hayate) starting to act just plain weird. It continued with Danzo’s death— apparently of natural causes but everyone has their doubts, of course. It continued with Team 7’s disappearance and Gekko’s miraculous recovery of his lifetime illness. Gekko himself seems entirely uncertain on both of these topics. It continued with Tsunade’s return and subsequent hostile takeover of the hospital, complaining about ‘stupid silver-haired brats’ and ‘creepy fucking undead Uchihas’ and ‘that asshole is blackmailing and bribing me, the little shit’ all the while. Hiruzen decides he will not deal with this any longer. He resigns.

Shikako is pigeonholed into becoming Hokage. He makes sure that it is everyone's problem.

Obito will admit, he was distracted. He didn’t see the attack coming. Then again, who the fuck would expect a tiny red and pink arrow of a genin to come flying out of the woods at speeds even the sharingan can’t keep up with just to put a tiny fist through your chest? No one, that’s who.

Obito still gasps awake, sorer than he has been in years, a backlog of guilt choking him up. He is surrounded. Kakashi is behind and half under him, apparently acting as his not-death-bed, and the pink-haired menace that killed him in the first place is disturbingly close to his face, staring at him intensely. Sasuke is on his left and Naruto on his right and he feels a little like he might die a second (third?) time.

“What the fuck?” Obito half-sobs with feeling.

“It’s better not to question it,” Kakashi recommends sagely.

(“Hey so are we ever going back to Konoha?” Naruto asks a week later after Obito has cried enough tears to last at least seven lifetimes and feels a little more like a human being. The whole group turns to him. Obito doesn’t particularly want to return to Konoha. He’s still sorting through the mess of emotions Madara manipulated him into having in his head but he knows that Konoha definitely isn’t his home any more, if it ever was. It’s hurt him too much and he’s hurt it too much. Sakura, little pink-haired she-devil that she is, shrugs.

“Nah,” she says after a moment. And that, apparently, is the end of that.)

[p1xiemeat]

Trigger Warning: Rare Illness/Health Issues [wasn't sure if this need a tw but these topics make some ppl uncomfy so i wanted to be considerate anyway💜]

so a lot of ppl have been asking me why i don't post pics anymore or why i have barely been on social media compared to how i used to be. and the reason is i've been having severe health issues for a very long time. i can't even remember the last time i went more than a month without feeling nauseous, or actually throwing up, or just having headaches and stomach pain that are so bad i can barely tolerate them.

i've known for a while that i have gastritis, but my mom & my bf convinced me to go to a new doctor for a second opinion. after months & months of pure agony and feeling exhausted and sick to the point where i have no energy, i finally know why. i went to a specialist and discovered i have a rare illness called CVS (Cyclic vomiting syndrome). and i also am lactose intolerant which was amplifying my symptoms because i eat dairy products constantly.

i am going to be starting treatment for it and i really hope it improves my life and my ability to function because i am so tired of "living" like this. just existing has been exhausting and painful. i literally haven't been able to accomplish any of the goals i have because i can't go more than a few days without feeling horrible.

i already feel useless because i'm autistic and i have bipolar 1 and i'm waiting on disability payments to come through because i am unable to work with my disabilities. so my bf has been working and doing his best to take care of me and our kids. i just feel so horrible and guilty all the time. and i genuinely didn't know why i feel sick 24/7. all i want is to feel like myself again. and to do all the things i miss doing. i feel like i'm trapped by this illness.

i'm grateful to have answers and know what i'm dealing with finally. but after suffering like this almost every single day for so long its so hard to feel hopeful for the future at this point. i'm literally in tears as i type this. its just been really bad. i never do my makeup anymore or feel good about myself. i can barely move sometimes because the pain in my stomach is so bad or i get pain in my throat from vomiting for hours at a time, and then i get MORE pain from dry heaving due to not being able to hold down any food. and then i get random migraines and headaches that last all day as a result of all of that. its taking a huge toll on my body and my mental health. my depression gets worse during the winter season so when this started getting really bad it just made my mental health a million times worse. its literal hell.

but yeah thats why i haven't been online. real life is hard enough and i haven't been motivated to post because of the hell i'm going through or a lot of the time i physically CAN'T make content. but i'm going to keep trying. i'm going to do every fucking thing my doctors tell me to do because im so fed up with suffering. i promise that i will make content again and post the things i create and other stuff i used to post about before i stopped being able to function. as soon as i start to feel semi normal or at least well enough to do daily activities and complete even small goals, i will post about it. i'll keep u guys updated.

i appreciate every single person who follows me and my content, and all the ppl who keep checking up on me and wondering where the fuck i went. i love you guys so much💜 and i'm so sorry to all the ppl who haven't heard from me. if i can gain at least a little bit of my physical strength and health back, i will be so happy. i also am trying to get vitamins prescribed to me because im severely lacking nutrients but they are so expensive and i can't afford them out of pocket until i get my disability money. i'm also anemic and have to start taking iron supplements again. i'm just a giant ball of health issues😭 its actually ridiculous how bad my health has been. but i'm a mom and for that reason i will never stop trying. i will do whatever it takes to get better. i don't think my health could get much worse than it is currently. hopefully i didn't just jinx myself by saying that😭

sorry for the super long explanation, i just have sooo many messages in my inbox and questions that you guys send me that i haven't answered. i don't want to leave u in the dark. the connections i've made on this silly little blog mean the world to me. and everything i've been going through has been so hard to explain. but since i recently got a REAL answer as to why i'm suffering so much, i felt it was a good time to let you guys know what is going on with me. like i said, when i am able to feel somewhat normal again i will post consistently and re-open my shop too! it sucks so bad having a passion for creating but being too sick to even get out of bed other than to get sick in the bathroom. i've been to the emergency room more times this month than i have in the last 4 years. if i can overcome this awfulness i will not take it for granted. i will work harder than i ever have to create and share it with the world. but for now i just have to sit back and do whatever my doctors tell me to do and hope to god that it helps me 😞

[st4rgzer]

NOW PLAYING…

↳ WELCOME TO NEW YORK (1980 TV) MATT STURNIOLO

genre: fluff, with a touch of angst

cw!: cursing, fem pronouns

summary: in which the reader is, half ready, to move to new york after booking her first major gig

a/n: this is the first track and i hope ill release one every weekend, maybe more, thank you for reading!

after 7 years, no, all my life working my ass off, going to every audition I can get my hands on, reading too many scripts a day, I finally got an audition.

And the best thing, it wasn’t because of the triplets! me being friends with them, and dating one, had made it incredibly difficult to make my own image, be my own person, even though I love them, I want people to know me for me, not know me as “matt’s girlfriend” or, “that girl that hangs out with the triplets”.

The only problem about getting a major gig, it’s in New York, and it’s going to be a pretty long time rolling, so I’d have to move there, at least for a year. That means leaving thee triplets at home. Leaving Matt home, and its not like NY is next to LA or Boston, 5 hours on plane. And it´s already difficult when they have leave for LA.

“babe, c’mon, just, come, spend the night here and in the morning we can drive you to the airport” Matt wined, pulling me towards him on the sofa, he had been trying to convince me not to leave early all day, and that they were closer to the airport so they could be the ones to take me there.

“well…maybe…” I sighed, the airport anxiety making me doubt wether or not to stay tonight, well, they are closer to the airport than me…fine, I sleep better with him anyways.

“yes! see i always win” he says lifting his arms up in victory, earning a laugh from me, he may be very persistent but it was sweet to see how he celebrated when he finally won.

He tugged me towards him and I laid my head on his chest, closing my eyes in a moment of peace before I had to worry about the move.

I nearly fell asleep when his hands started caressing my hair and detangling all the knots, slowly putting me in a trance, then I came to the realization that my bags were still in my house, and sighed, taking his hand away from my hair gently and sitting up.

“I just remembered my suitcase is still in my house, we have to go get it before anything” I kneaded my forehead and breathed deep, then I felt Matt’s hand on my back.

“relax ok, I can take us there in a minute, don’t worry about anything, the important things are already being shipped to your flat and the flight leaves at 10 am, enough time to sleep in a bit or have breakfast.” he said stroking my shoulder reassuringly, I grabbed his hand and placed it on mine, sighing as I backed myself against his chest once again, grateful I had an organized boyfriend opposed to the mess I was with this kind of stuff.

We pulled up to my driveway, I fiddled with the keys before finally opening the door. I went up to my room to get my big suitcase, them I realized a staircase and a big suitcase wasn’t a good match for me, I yelled Matt’s name but I saw him already going up the stairs, probably cause he knows me too well.

“thank you” I said with a sly smile. Grabbing the other end of the suitcase to at least help a bit, though he took all the weight.

We got into the car, the sun was setting and the weather was perfect for reminiscing and being nostalgic.

I laid my head against the damp car window , I started to think if this gig was going to be my big break. Even though I’ve wanted to be an actress since I was a young child, I never liked change, I despised it even.

This was going to be a big change, I had the last month to think about it and get used to the idea, but still, the thought of me and Matt breaking up because of long distance…

I felt a hand be placed on my knee, snapping me out of my thoughts, my mouth curved up into a slight smile, I placed his hand in mine, he rubbed small circles on my knuckles, and pulled it closer to him, placing a soft kiss to them.

“I’m so happy for you, do you know that?” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me with genuine joy. I tilted me head slightly and pursed my lips together.

“Do you think we’ll- survive the long distance…?” I looked down, guilt lingering in my voice, It was my fault I was moving to NY, I took the job, if the relationship went down the drain…I wouldn’t help to think it was my doing.

“What? That’s stupid, of course we will, Its not like you’re moving to a whole other country, phones exist, planes do as well” He insisted, tilting my head up to meet my line of view.

“trust me, okay? I’m a professional at the whole moving stuff…” He saw I was still unsure.

“baby I wouldn’t care if you moved to a whole other continent, I’d still book the flight every weekend to come see you” He said, gently moving a strand of hair out of my face, he wanted me to look at him, and I did. I half-smiled at him, feeling a bit more sure about the move thanks to his pep talk.

I realized I didn’t recognize where we were heading to, turning confused to Matt as he kept his eyes on the rode.

“Matt, where are we going? As far as I know, your house isn’t in a forest” I shook my head when he didn’t respond, scoffing as I laid back into the carseat.

As we parked in a rocky spot, he got out and went ‘round the car to open my door, what a gentlemen.

“What? are you gonna murder me out here or…?” I laughed as I got out of the vehicle, closing the door behind me. I was shut up as he placed a hand on my cheek, pulling me closer, and planting a sweet kiss onto my lips.

“oh?” I grinned, resting my hands over his shoulders, he grabbed one gently and led me in front of the car.

“ok, so, you know how I decorated my room all foresty?” He finally spoke, turning so he could make eye contact with me, I nodded.

“well, that’s cause the woods, mountains, they help calm me down, ease my anxiety and worries about things. After our first argument I came here, to clear my head. I come here a lot, and…I thought maybe it would help you a little? at least give you some peace of mind for while…”

He said, sweet words spewing from his mouth, I could’ve melted then and there. God, he was thoughtful. I smiled at him so widely, pecking his lips gently, I then peppered his cheeks and forehead with some more, he was right, this WAS giving me peace of mind. There was a slight fog surrounding the trees, and a soft breeze.

“thank you, Matt, this means a lot, like, really” I sighed as he opened his arms and held me, I closed my eyes at the smell of his cologne and the soft fabric of his plaid flannel.

“anything for you, lovely. I just wanted to give you a good afternoon to end with before the exhausting week that awaits you” He said kissing the top of my head and resting his chin there.

Hours passed. We were crossed legged, sat on the ground, watching the sky get darker and darker, contemplating as the stars slowly appeared.

My head was rested on his shoulder, his arm intertwined with mine, and his head laid back on the front of the car. It was simple and sweet, but better than anything I could’ve asked for.

It was silent, the comfort of our company being enough substitute for meaningless conversation. He sighed, contempt, we both knew the night was coming to an end, as I still wanted to get in at least 9 hours of sleep.

“do you think we should go now? its getting a bit late” he said stroking the palm of my hand.

“mhm, it is” I hummed, I gave him one more kiss before getting up and grabbing the makeshift blanket beneath us.

We drove to the car humming songs on the radio, his hands always resting either on my knee, my thigh, or my hand.

As the car pulled into the garage, Nick and Chris’s voices were heard, I think they were screaming something along the lines of “fucking finally”

We both looked at each other and sighed, holding in a laugh as he turned the doorknob, we were greeted with an angry blonde haired boy and a hyperactive Chris.

“where the fuck were you guys?! we wanted to do a going away movie party for tonight!” Nick yelled, he breathed and tried to calm himself, me and Matt were delighted watching the scene unfold.

“I took y/n somewhere.” he smirked slyly at him. Nick scoffed, he wasn’t too mad, after all, they were going to see me just next week.

After some more banter and such, Matt and I headed up to his room. He had his hand intertwined with mine and wasn’t dropping it anytime soon.

“m’lady” he said with a country accent, that always earned a chuckle out of me, opening the door for me, following behind. I sighed, letting myself fall onto the soft sheets of his bed.

He laid down next to me, as routine, I placed my head on his chest, he wrapped his arm languidly around my waist, pulling me close.

“im tired” I yawned and felt the vibrations from his chest as he laughed.

“of course you are, we’ve had a busy day, huh? He said kissing my hair softly, rubbing small shapes on the exposed skin of my waist.

I nodded, closing my eyes, sighing, I grew more tired every heartbeat of his I felt from his chest, the lullaby of his heart clearing my mind.

He felt I drifted off, he kissed the top of my head once again and whispered goodnight.

“I love you.”

“i love you too” I mumbled.

I recounted the previous moments in our day, everything from the starbucks he bought me when picking me up, to watching the sun set in his favorite place, with his favorite person.

Im scared of new beginnings, but New York can’t be so bad, right?

…

‘welcome to New York’ The big sign I was met with read, people were hustling and seemed like they had somewhere to go, I could here sirens blaring and people yelling “taxi!” I smiled. Everyone here wants something more. I guess I maybe could get used to this.

taglist: @dwntwn-strnlo @iha8you @lovelysturniolo @gabbylovesreading @hedgehogperalta @iloveneilperry @stvrni0lo @sturniolol @stvrniolo @sturniololoverr @oneirophobic (nicole idk if you wanna be added or not, tell me if you want me to take you off😭) @gaytoadwithapopsicle (same for you)

reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[ivansergeyevichturgenev]

okay so i need to get this off of my chest 😁 giving myself a lunch break trying to have peace and quiet but i'm in a school so i don't have that.

i think something's wrong with me. but nobody can get into a doctor. i mean i have an appointment in september. and i'm so scared. and no one in my life is taking me seriously. not a soul. and like evil eye so i don't want to to talk about it but i'm scared every single day. whatever! could be dying but it's fine! nobody gives a fuck

(also bonus awesome thing about working in a school: every single time i've tried to cry silently in my locked, curtain drawn room, someone comes in. so i can't even have my moment!)

my roommate just texted me saying she can't find her cat and it's just like i am so fucking sick of the crises and all of the work i've had to do for HER pet and it's like all i fucking do is take care of him i feed him and clean his litter box and hang out with them and now i'm getting bombarded with texts about how he must be missing from the house and i'd be lying if i wasn't starting to resent it. like he's not my cat. and just bc you take him to the vet doesn't mean you're the one taking care of him daily. which maybe that is cruel but

oh i hate my body & my weight & since i'm scared i'm dying (could be! could be wouldn't that be a waste of time & suffering) we WERE supposed to go to dinner tonight but i doubt it if her cat is missing which is like. fair. understandable. but i'm upset she's basically blaming me bc i leave the house at 7 something like idk a normal person like i get it you have a different schedule but like if you wake up at like 1 that's like 6 hours. so idk. anyways maybe i just off myself so i'm not dying of some illness, i'm no longer fat, and i don't have to take care of an animal that doesn't belong to me. bc she gets to reap the rewards to having two cats meanwhile they're my problem for the most part. and i love my cat! but i signed up for MY CAT.

oh and tomorrow is the first day of school. so yeah. yeah i have that going on BUT NOBODY CARES ABOUT ME! nobody cares about what's going on in my life. i mean you all lovely women in my phone do. but my dad wants to text me about fucking saunas and here's another fucking thing. i could be dying and nobody cares

[so-long-soldier-writes]

drabble #7 - kissing disease

kai parker x reader

summary: despite the deal he had made with her several weeks ago, kai needs his sister for her medical opinion, again.

tags: doctor / hospital, sickness, small mention of blood, caught / confession

word count: 1,023

a/n: here is a short lil drabble-ish piece i wrote as i'm trying to get back in the swing of things. i went to a tvd con, and then got a cold 😭 so i'm a little out of it. but, i did produce this, so here it is!

A series of knocks disturb the couple and their guest from their conversation. It’s bad enough to have one uninvited guest, and now there’s another at the door. Even worse, when Ric answers, it’s the person he and his girlfriend want to see least in the world. 

Kai Parker, visibly ill, is hunched over his entryway. One hand is gripping the doorframe, while the other is raised to knock again, but drops when Ric opens it. 

“Oh no-” the older man starts.

“Wait, wait, wait-”

Upon hearing the direct ‘no’ from Ric, Jo joins his side. At the sight of her twin brother, though, she’s immediately pissed. “No. We had a deal. I give you my magic and you never speak to me again.”

“I know-”

“So why the hell would you think it’s okay to come here?”

“I need your help.”

“You’re insane! If you think I’m going to help you, after all you’ve ever done to me, you’re insane.”

“I know, and I know we had a deal. But, look, I’m really sick, I don’t know why. It’s not a magical problem this time, because I’ve tried to heal it with magic and it’s not working. I don’t know if I did the right spell, or if there’s something blocking it, I don’t know. All I ask is that you just look. Just, try to see me as a patient, just for today. Please?”

“You will not manipulate me like that. I won’t let you.”

“I’m not trying to, I promise.”

By now, Damon’s joined the doorway. “Oh, it’s you,” he says bluntly. “Why are you here?”

“I’m sick. I came to see my sister because she’s a doctor, not because I wanted to hurt her. Please, Josette.”

The girl sighs. “Fine. But if you try anything, I will kill you.”

“Promise I won’t.”

Ten minutes later, she has Kai sitting on a patient bed in Whitmore hospital. The three had decided it would be easier to do there, so they made the quick drive over to the medical center. Luckily, it’s after busy hours, so they’re able to work without interruption. 

At first, Jo asks all the typical questions and runs all the standard tests. She rules out that it’s definitely not a magical issue, and that it seems to be a virus of some sort. She just can’t seem to narrow it down to which one, though. 

“It’s not strep; that test came up negative. Could you repeat your symptoms to me?”

Kai rolls his eyes, but answers, “throat has been sore for a couple days, my, like, lymph nodes are swollen, up here on my neck,” he points to the area, “I’m really tired, skin is kinda hot, and I’ve had a headache.”

“Right. So this is kind of a Hail Mary, but I’m gonna do it anyway. I need a sample of your blood. Just a finger-prick.” She holds out a little test, then a needle, and takes his hand. “Try not to flinch,” she says, before remembering to whom she’s talking. Jo then almost flinches herself when she realizes it’s her brother’s hand she’s grasping. 

Kai doesn’t budge when she pricks his finger. In fact, he just yawns, like he’s bored. It disturbs her. 

“Just give it a couple minutes.”

Jo leaves to find the other two while the test takes the time it needs. In a couple minutes, though, she returns, both men on her tail. She reads the test, then scoffs. 

“What is it?” Ric asks before anyone else can.

“It’s positive.”

“For what?”

“Mono.”

“What?!” The man asks a third time. 

“What’s that mean?” Damon questions, too.

“Mononucleosis. Epstein-Barr. Whatever you want to call it. The Kissing Disease.” She looks at Kai, who says nothing. “Spread through saliva. Either you got it from kissing someone, or sharing drinks, silverware, or something like that. So what’s it from?”

“No way,” Damon interrupts, “there’s no way someone was kissing him, that’s got to be a false positive.”

“It’s the only one of all my tests to come out positive.”

“Alright, fine,” Kai says, “of all the ways I expected to be caught, this was not one of them.”

The two men seem to get angry at this. At nearly the same time, they bark, “who was the poor girl?”

“Hey, she was a willing participant!”

“Who was it, Kai?”

“Really pretty. Sweet voice. Likes the bad boys, but she seems so innocent, you wouldn’t know unless she told you. Friend of yours, Damon. You had her babysit me one day, and then things just kind of… took off!”

“No.” Damon denies, not wanting it to be true. 

“Oh, yes.”

“She wouldn’t be caught with the likes of you. Y/N is too good for that.”

“Oh, but she wasn’t caught… until, well, she apparently gave me mono.”

“But that was months ago I had her watch you.”

“And it was months ago since we started hanging out. And then hanging turned to kissing, which I started, because she’s way too shy to give in the first time, but once she does, she’s just… crazyyyy cute about it. Always stealing kisses when I’m not expecting it. Guess it makes sense how this could’ve happened.”

“You’re lying. Y/N would never.” Ric agrees with his best friend. 

“I swear to you I am not.”

“I’ve got an easy way to figure this out. Hold on one second.” Damon puts a finger up while dialing a number on his phone. After a few rings, it picks up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, hi. What’s up?”

“Not much. Was just wondering if you’re up for a drink later, at the grill?”

“Mm, I’m not actually feeling too great today. Raincheck for another time?”

“Oh, really? That sucks.”

“Yeah, I think it’s just a typical common cold.” You clear your throat rather loudly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no worries. Feel better okay?”

“I’ll try,” you chuckle, “see you later?”

“Let me know when you’re better. Bye.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Damon looks at Alaric, then Jo, and all three, horrified, stare down at Kai together.

The little troublemaker manages to smirk. “Still think I’m lying?” 

[softie-rain]

Step On Me

Part II - The President

Pairing: Sejanus Plinth/Coriolanus Snow

Summary: “Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout. Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fell in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

Notes: woo new chapter! This one isn't happy but it's less sad than the first one. (I'd argue the ending is. Blame Scott Street) We have a song reference in this one too, let me know if you spot it (:

chapter: 2/7 (weekly updates!) prev. chapter

read it on ao3 here

The second time Coriolanus saw Sejanus, it was two weeks after he won the elections. 

Years had passed since his times as a peacekeeper in District 12, Lucy Gray Baird now only living in the furthest abyss of his mind, no one had memory of her in the Capitol, or in the other Districts. If they even knew about her in the first place. 

He had made sure to outshine the 10th Hunger Games by working hard as a gamemaker under Dr. Gaul during the following Games. His ideas had brought new interest to them, thanks to the addition of mutts and traps all around the newly rebuilt arena. His first edition as a gamemaker, right after Lucy Gray’s games, won by the girl from District 4, was probably the one he was the most disappointed by. The only reason being that everything was still in the projecting phase, and those goddamn drones still caused trouble.

But now, five years later, as he sat at his desk in his office in the Presidential Palace, he truly felt at home. It stung that Tigris was colder to him lately, sometimes he sensed some lack of support on her side. But she was still his cousin, and he knew they’d be together till the end, no matter what.

“President Snow?” Cassia, his secretary, knocked at his door. Although president for just a few weeks, Coriolanus was already used to the title. It felt familiar, like it was meant to be. Everything he deserved, was finally his. 

“Yes?” He responded. His secretary appeared behind the door, holding a plate of cookies. 

“Ms. Plinth passed by, she brought these for you. She also told me to tell you they’re inviting you over for dinner, her and her husband.” She said, leaving the cookies on his desk. Coriolanus observed them and nodded. He knew Strabo had a terminal illness, he wouldn't give him more than over one week of life. He assumed the dinner was Ma’s idea for Coriolanus to say goodbye. 

He considered it pathetic, but he had to go anyway. What impression would he give to the people of Panem if it got known that President Snow hadn't been by Strabo Plinth’s side, a man who had given him everything and considered him a second son, in the moment of his final breath?

“I will. Thank you, Cassia.” He said, grabbing one cookie to try it. He noticed Cassia was still standing in front of him, looking rather uncomfortable. “You can go now.” He added.

“She’s still here. She’s insisting on seeing you. I know you said you don’t want to be disturbed at any hour today but-” 

“Then you already know what to tell her. Go.” Coriolanus stated, more angry than he intended. Cassia bit her lip and nodded, quickly exciting the office and closing the door behind her. 

Coriolanus sighed and leaned back on his chair, passing his hand through his hair. He gave another bite to the cookie, quietly moaning at the taste. Ma’ Plinth might have been a sad pathetic woman (even more so as she aged), but her cooking was still as delicious as ever. 

“Coriolanus Snow, President of Panem.” Coriolanus almost choked on the cookie upon hearing the voice. He immediately got up, looking around the room. Like that night of many years ago Sejanus appeared in the corner. He was leaning on the wall right next to the window, observing Coriolanus. “I always knew you were going to get far. Even before the Academy, I would look at you and think ‘Man, this kid will do big things.’”

Sejanus was talking to him with an admiring tone, sounding almost proud of him, as if he was his mother. And, to be fair, it wasn’t far off from what Ma’ had told Coriolanus right after he was nominated President. The boy walked over to him and sat on his desk, looking at the cookies. “Can I? It’s been ages since I’ve eaten one.”

Without responding Coriolanus nodded. Sejanus leaned forward to grab one and as he did so Coriolanus took a good look at his neck. The bruises of the rope were still there, as fresh as ever, like the hanging day had been just the day before, as if no time had passed at all. 

“You seem surprised to see me.” 

Coriolanus raised an eyebrow surprised, gesturing to Sejanus. “Shouldn't I be?”

Sejanus shrugged and shifted on the desk, sitting with his legs crossed. “I visited you once already.” 

“Yeah, when I was nineteen.”

“And now you’re twenty four! Where did the time go? You look just as handsome though. Maybe even a bit more now.” Sejanus leaned in, winking at him. Coriolanus felt himself lightly blush and immediately shook his head, trying to recompose himself.

“And you look just as dead.” Coriolanus bit back, ignoring the effect Sejanus still had on him. When was he going to grow out of his stupid crush? He had finally realized and admitted to himself that he liked Sejanus years ago now, not shortly after his first post-death visit actually, and he thought he was over it. So why did he still make him act like he was twelve again, blushing for a compliment or for the slightest sign of affection by his side?

It made him feel weak, powerless. All that time and Sejanus still had such a strong hold on him. It made him wonder of his time in District 12, how Sejanus had always had that effect on him. Was all the power he felt over the boy just an illusion? Obviously not, or he wouldn’t have sent the recording to Dr. Gaul.

“I’m glad to see the guilt isn’t eating you alive anymore.” Sejanus said, sounding sincere. Coriolanus hated him. 

“It’s not.”

“Good. You look happy now.” He said, tilting his head. “Are you?”

Coriolanus frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You tell me, I asked the question.”

“Well, I am.” Coriolanus replied, shifting on his chair and crossing his arms. “So no need for you to be here.” He dismissed him, waving his hand at him.  

“I'm not your secretary Coryo, you can't just tell me to leave.” Sejanus said, as if it was a matter of fact. “I didn't decide to be here, you know?”

“Right, because my mind made you up, or whatever.” Coriolanus said, rolling his eyes, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his hand on his palm. 

“That's one rational explanation, yes. Or maybe I'm a spirit and I lied to you.” Sejanus said in a neutral tone, crossing his legs on Coriolanus’ desk. 

The blonde boy frowned as the other's shoes dirty the surface and then looked up at him again. Sejanus was staring down at him smiling, and Coriolanus found himself missing his curly hair. Truly it had been a shame he died with his head shaved. He would have loved to see his hair one more time. 

Coriolanus had given up on trying to find a rational explanation for Sejanus’ first apparition, and he wasn't certainly going to start trying to find one for the second. 

Coriolanus cleared his throat and gestured around himself. “So you're proud of what I achieved?” He asked, smiling proudly. “Pretty great, isn't it?” 

Sejanus grimaced. “You did big things, that's for sure. But great? I wouldn't say that.” He said, sadness in his voice.

Coriolanus couldn't say he was surprised, though he felt disappointed. He expected Sejanus to congratulate him on what he'd done, but after all he knew his morals: Sejanus could have never been happy for Coriolanus when all he had done was making the tributes’ lives even more miserable. But he had also come up with the idea of the Winners Village in every district, and what about the money for the winners? Also Coryo's idea. Couldn't Sejanus for once be content with the lesser evil? 

“Well, I didn’t ask for your approval.”

“Yeah, I assumed you didn't when you turned me in.” Sejanus said laughing, as if he had just made the funniest joke. 

Tigris would call him resentful and here he had Sejanus still holding grudges of something that happened almost six years ago. 

Coriolanus scoffed and looked down at the documents he was examining before he got interrupted by Cassia, ignoring Sejanus’ eyes on him. He felt the boy shift next to him. Sejanus got up and started pacing the room, observing his surroundings. “Oh, look at this! It's beautiful! And fancy.” He said, pointing at the portrait they made of Coriolanus on his second day as President. 

Although Coriolanus hadn't exactly been euphoric to pose for that painting, he had to admit it was rather flattering to have it in his office. Every time he looked at it, every time anyone looked at his portrait could recognize the power Snow held. The hard and proud look he was represented with did him justice, so much that his secretary and most of his employees would on purpose avoid the painting when they entered the room. In Coriolanus’ eyes it was perfect: feared and respected by everyone.

But Sejanus was standing there, quietly, with his hands crossed behind his back, observing the painting with a smile on his face.

“I like it. Except for the eyes, they don't do you justice.”

Coriolanus scowled, trying not to snap at Sejanus. “Why so?” 

Sejanus turned to face his Coriolanus and his smile widened. “Yours are much more blue.” He told him, looking at him with those lovesick brown orbs Coriolanus worshiped. 

“Did I ever tell you when I realized I was in love with you?” Sejanus asked, walking up to Coriolanus. Coriolanus shook his head no.

“I'm afraid you died before you could.” He replied sarcastically.

Sejanus nodded. “Ah. True. Well, we have time now don't we?” He said excitedly, jumping on the desk again. Coriolanus sighed and pushed his papers aside, knowing it was useless to even just try and tell Sejanus to go away.

“We were fifteen.” He started, looking up. Coriolanus didn't know if it was to avoid his look, but his own eyes were fixated on Sejanus’ face.

“I've always known I liked you, since I first saw you. You looked so adorable, with those rosy cheeks and blonde curls!”

Sejanus smiled widely, and Coriolanus couldn't help but lightly blush at the thought of the Plinth boy being head over heels for him at such a young age, complimenting him like that. 

He also found himself getting used to the odd happiness and calm that seemed to be characteristics of post mortem Sejanus.

“Anyway, this day in particular we were at school,” He kept going, “And Festus was talking behind my back. I mean, I could perfectly hear him. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear or not, actually. I never thought about it.” Sejanus commented, more to himself than to Coriolanus. 

Coriolanus rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, gesturing Sejanus to go on. 

“As I was saying, Festus was making fun of me. And then he said, I remember this clearly as if it was yesterday: ‘I think he should be repead for the next Games. That way he'd learn his place!’” Coriolanus gulped. He could see the hurt on Sejanus’ face. So many years had passed and he was clearly still affected by it. He wasn't sure if he could blame Sejanus (or accusing him of being pathetic) for that, though he usually would.

Even to Coriolanus, with that comment Festus had overstepped a line. 

“I remember running away, trying not to cry. Which I did, eventually, but only when I got to the bathroom. Which is when you found me.” Sejanus said, pointing at Coriolanus. 

“You knocked at the stall where I was hiding and asked me if I was alright. I lied, said I was fine.” Sejanus let out a laugh and shook his head. “You knew I was lying. So you insisted and kept knocking, until I opened the door and got out. And that's when I saw them.” 

Coriolanus frowned, confused. “Saw what?” 

“Ocean blue eyes, looking in mine. I felt like I might sink and drown, and die.” He replied, staring at Coryo. “You saw me crying and hugged me, no questions asked. Your hand touched mine, and that's when I knew. That I was utterly and desperately in love with you.” 

Coriolanus remembered that day. He had immediately followed Sejanus because he had assumed he had gone crying. Assumption that was confirmed when he heard the sobs in the bathroom. Truthfully he had rolled his eyes and sighed before knocking on the door, getting annoyed when Sejanus pretended to be fine. 

When he finally came out of the bathroom the site before Coriolanus was pretty pathetic: Sejanus had red and puffy eyes, he kept sniffing with his lips parted, how could he say he was fine when he looked like that?

The hug seemed like the only rational option to Coriolanus to put Sejanus out of his misery, an act of mercy. Apparently it had meant much more to him than Snow thought. Still, he didn’t see any reason to break the news to the boy, so he didn’t say anything about it.

“You’re welcome?” He said instead, which sounded more as a question than a statement. At least it earned a laugh from Sejanus. 

The Plinth boy kept staring at him lovingly without saying anything, and Coriolanus was starting to feel rather uncomfortable. He went back to study his documents, clearing his throat trying to stop his voice from breaking when he spoke. “Well now that you’ve told me your sob story you can leave, right?” 

His voice was cold, he had already shown his weak side to Sejanus last time, he wasn’t going to repeat the scene once more. Although he would have loved to feel the warmth of his hugs one more time. He despised that feeling, the one he always had around Sejanus, of caring, of attachment. Why couldn't he let him go? Why was it so hard, if he wanted to so badly?

“Aren't you going to tell me when you fell in love with me?” Sejanus asked with a pout. 

Coriolanus froze. When did Coriolanus fall in love with Sejanus? Was he ever even in love with him in the first place? Coriolanus thought he had to be, at least at some point, because how else would he explain the way Sejanus was still haunting him after all those years?

But when, that was very blurry.

He never really thought about it and even now, he didn't think there was a specific moment. In Coriolanus’ eyes Sejanus had just always been there, and the blonde's feelings just kept swinging back and forth from hatred to love. Whether said affection was platonic or romantic had never been the main focus of Coryo, who simply would try and go on with life fighting the urge to either slap or kiss some sense into Sejanus.

Uh.

Maybe the feelings had never been platonic.

Either way, he wasn't going to tell Sejanus any of that.

“Do you really want me to go?” Sejanus finally asked, tilting his head. 

He didn't seem upset or sad about it, it was a simple genuine question. One to which Coriolanus didn't know the answer to. “Yes.” He replied, looking down at his papers. But was it really what he wanted? What he needed? 

“But I'm assuming you won't listen to me will you?” He added looking up, only to find out he was once again alone, as he had always been for the past five years.

He went back to write notes on the documents, pushing away in the deep bottom of his mind the feeling of longing for Sejanus. 

In his head he could hear an echo, that he desperately ignored, and that sounded too much like Sej.

“Anyway, don't be a stranger.” 

[simplygyuu]

Nouvelle Crown : 23 - Under the Streetlights

synopsis : choi beomgyu, the second prince of the royal choi family doesnt have much of a life outside of his duties. even then hes not allowed to do much, his brother is the crown prince after all. but when he meets you, a regular commoner girl, through his brothers friend soobin he cant help but be intrigued. commoner life is so different from what he knows and you are the only person to treat him like the normal teenager he always longed to be. with you he gets to experience the normal, teenager life behind the backs of his overbearing family.

the two of you sat quietly at the bus stop where you had truly hung out for the first time, happily chatting. beomgyu wasnt supposed to be out, but he didnt care. he needed to see you. plus, he knew yeonjun had his back now.

the crickets chirped and the only light was from the yellow streetlights. there were no people walking around, not this late at night at least. you were completely alone.

"y/n?" you hear beomgyu say and turn to face him when hes already looking at you. theres a small smile on his face, one you can't really decipher. its not his usually shy smile nor is it his mischievous wide one. its too dark to see any of the red color on his face but youre assuming its there. hes been blushing the whole night after all. you softly hum in response, head tilting a bit.

"thank you so much for.. everything." he suddenly begins, turning to almost fully face you. "i..i never knew what it was like to live before i met you. everyday i looked forward to texting you or finding a way to hang out, you fill my mind 24/7," he then nervously chuckles and there, you see his shy smile as he glances away. "i just love you so much... i hope you dont think this is too soon its just, ive never felt like this before. ever. and i want to tell you as often as i can that i love you and you changed my life for the better."

beomgyu almost glows in the dim light, his hair lightly blowing in the wind. you can imagine the blush on his cheeks and you can see the way he slightly gnaws on his bottom lip. his eyes flicker around, landing on you then the grass then his hands and then the cycle repeats. god, you really like him dont you?

without responding to him you tap his cheek to get his eyes on you again. his cheek is warm to the touch as he turns to you and thats when you lean in a bit. its a slow thing as you give him the chance to move, the chance to back away, yet he does the complete opposite. despite his lack of experience he closes the gap between your lips.

the kiss is slow and gentle, just full of love. so, so much love. its not rushed or messy, its not needy or careless. no its romantic, loving, and just so beautiful. beomgyus hand hovers over your waist for a second before he finally places his hand down on your waist and pulls you the slightest bit closer, melting like putty into the kiss. it lasts for a few long seconds but easily feels like an eternity. you could kiss beomgyu for hours if you had the chance to.

you end up breaking the kiss and beomgyu leans his forehead against yours and smiles, eyes crinkling happily. you cant help but giggle softly and he quickly follows suit with a round of chuckles. you lean forward to give him one little peck on the cheek, your mouth hurting from how much you've smiled tonight.

"i love you too, beomgyu. i love you so much"

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

previous masterlist next

notes : IM SEEING TXT TODAY!!! im so excited and rlly wanted to get this out... AAA IM SO HAPPY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR YEARS TO SEE THEM IN CONCERT!!! anyways IM HOLDING MY PROMISE OF TRYING HARDER TO UPDATE! school ends at the end of next week, so ill only have work and this to do :)

reblogs and replies are really really appreciated and keep me motivated!!

taglist (open) : @mazeinthemoon @pokyloky @run2seob @bluebearybeom @wonioml @rikismiel @yumilovesloona @captivq @soobin-chois @thisisnotjacinta @silvsie @sullystraw @luvsoobs @ddeonudepressions @woncheecks @ioszzn @dudufodd @jaeminanklelicker @strawbrinkofdeath @softcabur @luvsooby @ilovewonyo @kaewonie @sugar5 @itzxvaxella @il0vebeomgyu @angelbythewindow @gyuville @myknifeyourlife @sandhyaaa-aa @beomiebears @vocaloshin @streeete

send me an ask or message to be added to the taglist! i dont add from replies :)

[fostercare-expat]

Sad news about the Stateless Baby. She is a former foster baby of Other Foster Mom and I looked after her once for a few hours. She was born to unmarried parents from a country that does not recognise babies born abroad out of wedlock so there’s no way to get citizenship for the baby other than a local adoption. In addition Mom is fairly unstable and has other kids that are being raise by a relative, so she’s not a great mom to begin with. A few months ago I was at a foster care event and I met a local family who was in the process of adopting Stateless Baby. They had committed to having Mom and the maybe Dad in her life. But today I just heard that Mom has taken back Stateless Baby for the last 3 weeks because she felt the potential adoptive family was trying to steal her away. The adoption paperwork here takes 6 months and the Stateless situation has made it even longer so there is no legal leg to stand on to get her back. Apparently Mom has been bringing the baby to work, which is clearly a “house of ill-repute” since she has no child care. The maybe Dad also works there too, so you can guess what his role is likely and you can guess why no one trusts he is the biological father. This is all a giant mess caused by the home country of Mom and maybe Dad, which isn’t the country we all live in here. From all the research that Other Foster Mom has done and from what the local and foreign embassies say, the citizenship issue can’t be resolved and there are tons of people who have just grown up without citizenship because if this ridiculous rule. Most just manage to find other ways to get citizenship by being adopted to a relative or married to someone when they are older. But most of those families are more savvy. This mom isn’t. She prefers to fly under the radar, i.e. she choose a home birth without anyone there as she was trying to have the baby without the authorities knowing. I feel for her because in theory she wants the baby but in reality she’s very stand-off ish and isn’t able to communicate well with all the authorities who are trying to help her. She can’t get Stateless Baby out of this country to her home country because the borders are super strict here, so she can’t even raise the baby informally by a relative over there. But she can’t ever send the kid to local school because only citizens and green card holders are allowed in local school and she doesn’t have $30,000 a year to send her kid to international school. It’s such a mess. The system sucks. But this baby needs some sort of plan. And it sounded like a really good plan of an adoptive family who can care of this darling baby girl safely without lots of scary men around 24/7 (because we are looking at a terrifying vulnerability for abuse with the current “bring your daughter to work” situation) and Mom and maybe Dad could still be part of her life. I guess eventually even if the baby isn’t taken away for abuse or neglect in her younger years, then girl would be taken by CPS for not attending school after age 7 as school is a strict requirement here and she will just end up in CPS care anyways. And she will be heavy damaged by then. Apparently there are other cases like hers here in CPS care too. What a nightmare. The poor kiddo suffers most.

The foreign system stinks because it’s perhaps needlessly separating a Mom and her child. (Although from what I’ve seen, this Mom might not be able to successfully parent even without these citizenship issues) and it’s punishing the child for being born to unwed parents, which isn’t her fault. They aren’t taking away the citizenship of the parents, they are doing it to the child. So wrong. And the local system has a very harsh approach to undocumented people so it won’t educate the child, but eventually would allow her to go to school only after removing her from her mother’s care. Also crazy. Just a mess. And none of these systems show signs of changing anytime soon. So we can complain they aren’t fair, but this baby is already 1 years old and isn’t going to stop growing so we need to find a way to give her a chance at a normal life.

[regression-1863]

Okay inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/hozier-toosweet/747667109810765824/turns-on-computer-ill-be-back-in-approximately?source=share

Anyways here's the first chapter of what I'm calling "LOREYMCLORE FIC" because I added so much unnecessary lore that doesn't exist in cannon.

Small summary: radioapple, alastor pretends to be buddy buddy with Lucifer to annoy Lilith and chaos ensues. Will likely end up as multiple chapters long because I'm a lil silly like that <3 also Lilith isn't a villain and she has more reason for being gone for 7 years than "cuz she can" because I felt like it <333 okay bye

Next->

Alastor remembers his first day in hell like an old friend. 

Most demons, as alastor came to learn, often woke up in the middle of the streets of hell their first day, some lucky enough to be in an area far away from chaos. They’d wake up, confused, and berated by other demons, demons who want one thing; 

Their soul. 

Most give in, as they’re promised protection in this strange new world. 

That's a typical day though. Alastor didn't get a ‘typical first day of hell’, for he didn't wake up in hell. Not at first. 

He remembers it like it was yesterday, the mist on his skin, his vision clouded by the fog, how cold it was…a strange, red glowing outline of something tall in the distance. 

He walked towards it, wondering if he was having a nightmare, or a dream. 

It was neither. 

Something fast and thin ran across the ground, glowing green, before latching onto him, his breathing being stifled, pressure against his neck, closing his eyes, trying to fight whatever it was off, trying to escape— 

A beat. A blink, a moment so small he missed it. It was hotter, there was chaos rather than the eerie silence from before, people were yelling. 

Now he was in hell. Beautiful, beautiful hell…

 -----

Alastor felt like he was going to, and excuse his manners,  lose his fucking mind. 

He was supposed to be celebrating with the others, who were in the hotel. It had been a few weeks since extermination day, and the darling princess decided to host a lovely banquet, hoping to get people to at least visit the hotel. 

And here he was, hiding away in his radio tower. He didn't even bother to reread the letter, he knew the contents of it, so why care? He burned it, the fire glowing that familiar green, leaving nothing save for a few ashes. 

He faded into the shadows, reappearing behind Rosie's emporium, seeing as she was the only one even vaguely aware of his… situation. She, nor would her residents, say a word if they saw anything. 

Still, he felt himself growing annoyed, his skin prickling, like something deep inside him was trying to escape. That wasn't far off, as ‘his’ shadow was pulling him, trying to get him to move. Eventually it literally pulled him two feet away from where it was. 

“Oh would you behave—” the shadow pulled on him again, and pointed up. Finally, he saw what it saw. Something, falling down, down down. “Ah. would have figured they’d give her the decency to use a portal at least.” he murmured.

Before she managed to crash land into hell at nearly a million miles per hour, he used his shadows to reach up nearly forty feet in the air to swiftly grab her. 

He’d have to find a way to explain that to the sinners later…. 

Of course, she didn't stop mid air, still falling, but he was able to slow it considerably before dropping her down on the ground. 

“So, Adam didn't work out that well for you did he?” Alastor brushed the dust off of his arm, not offering to help her up. 

“Says the one who got a nasty scratch from the man himself," Lilith snapped, pulling her hood over her face, trying to stay unnoticed by any sinners. “Take me to the hotel.” she whisper-yelled, her stance wobbly. 

“‘fraid you came at a bad time dear. They’re holding a banquet right now,” his smile grew more cruel.

“Though I'm sure you could make a deal with another angel for a comfy place in paradise, couldn't you?” 

“And you’re still biting off more than you can chew aren't you?” 

“Touche.” Alastor’s voice held a venom that he tried to hide. “Very well, I'll bring you to the hotel.” 

 ----

“Ookaayy,” lucifer started, “sooo…. Tell me what was so important that you proceeded to throw everyone from my daughters' banquet out. Literally.” he laughed nervously. 

Alastor had cornered Lucifer and Charlie on the fourth floor of the hotel, where only Alastor and Lucifer resided. Lucifer then continued; “Because if it's some bull I swear to god—” “leave him out of this,” “I swear to your mother that I will beat you to a pulp.” 

Alastor huffed in fake hurt, “why, your majesty, I’m offended you would think such things of me! I am nothing but an angel.” 

“The day you get redeemed is the day heaven crashlands into hell.” 

“You’d know all about that, wouldn't you?” 

Charlie, who had been cautiously watching the two of them to this point, cleared her throat. “Uh… so, alastor… what was so important that it had to put a stop to… uh… everything?” 

Alastor clasped his hands together, his smile tightening. “So glad you asked dear Charlotte!” he started, “well, you see i was going on a walk to get away from the stench of alcohol and bad decor,” lucifer then interupted, “oh fuck you,”  “in your dreams, now let me finish.— I was on my stroll when I stumbled upon this pesky little thing that I believe belongs to you?” 

Alastor opened the door to Lucifer's room— because god forbid he let anything track mud into his own— and watched the two's reactions. 

Charlie's face was completely unreadable for a solid few seconds, before breaking down completely, tears falling and snot starting to drip as she hurled herself at her mother, easily slipping into a hug. 

Lucifer, however, stayed behind for a moment, hesitating. His own eyes were welling up with tears, and it was obvious he was restraining himself with every last bit of control he had. 

Lilith looked over at him, still practically cradling Charlie in her arms. A small hint of guilt found its way onto her face. 

“You still wear your ring?” she asked. They had divorced long ago, and yet this pulled at her heartstrings. She had missed him admittedly, even if she no longer loved him. 

Those five little words from her had been enough to get Lucifer to also start sobbing, hugging her as tight as he could. 

‘Like father like daughter. How sickeningly sweet.’ Alastor watched, unable to stop how irritated he was at the sight. ‘She's going to cause problems…’ 

He started to silently slip away into the shadows, away from them, ignoring the frantic footsteps of Vaggie running up the stairs at the sound of Charlie crying her eyes out. 

[ankhisms]

To quote my coworker: "today is probably going to be the worst day of work we will have in this entire season of work" and boy howdy. Today sucked ass

As a warning ill be mentioning throwing up in this so just skip to the end if u dont want to hear me even mention that 👍

Anyway. Started out the day having to drive THEE WORST truck in the entire park district where i truly think that truck is not safe for anyone to drive and i had a panic attack because of how bad trying to drive it was- not one of the worst panic attacks ive had in my life but it still sucked and set the mood for the day

The thing about today is that okay. Genuinely this was not a case of workers being exploited. Our boss was working right alongside us and working just as hard if not harder than all of us. And he kept asking if we were okay or if we wanted to take a break, kept reminding us to stop to drink water every 5-10 minutes. But we basically worked 6-7 hours non stop today in the 90 degree F heat plus humidity without any shade. And the reason why we had to do this was we planted over a thousand very rare important native prairie plants in our prairie restoration and we have been preparing to plant these for WEEKS and if we did not get all of these plants into the ground and watered properly today they wouldve died and we wouldve wasted thousands of dollars (buying the plants) as well as all of the weeks of hard work we did to prepare for planting. We NEEDED to get it all in or else it wouldve all died.

We were short handed because one of my coworkers unfortunately had a really serious family emergency and so she wasnt able to be in at work today so it was really all hands on deck. However i ended up pushing myself way too hard and because of the medicine i take i overheat easier and am prone to heat exhaustion/heat sickness and so i got overheated and threw up twice- which i almost NEVER throw up and you know something is really wrong with me if i throw up. But my coworkers and boss are all so very kind and worried about me and as soon as i threw up they were like ok rey youre done working for now we will take over you need to go lay down in the truck with the ac blasting and drink water you NEED to rest. And because of that i was able to recover and i mean im still fucking whiped out but i dont have to pass out right now yknow. They were very attentive to me and did not at all make me feel bad they were asking how i was and then when we were done we finally were able to get lunch around 2 and our boss bought us all a shit ton of really good ice cream.

So yeah tldr insane day at work i worked for 6-7 hours straight no break in the 90 degree heat but i did it TO RESTORE OUR BELOVED PRAIRIE. And tomorrow i will be back out there. Planting again but this time in the shade and MUCH less plants

[cattocavo]

Six sketch sunday

Thanks so much for tagging me @thewholelemon

I actually have something pretty exciting to share if i do say so myself!

In november 2022 i did a master study of romeo and juliet by frank bernard dicksee. I was very happy with it. But over time I’ve become less and less happy with it, specifically how baz looks :((

This is due to the fact that i traced A LOT in late 2022 (I was 15 ok, I’m sure we’ve all had one of those phases😭) I traced the whole painting, but baz was hard bc the original painting featured a woman, and her whole figure was covered by a white loose dress. 2022 me did their best interpreting the shapes and forming a new body for baz, but honestly they didn’t do it very well. Ive hated Baz’s face and body for a while now, but still loved simon and the painting in general. Which is why I came to the conclusion that for me to be at peace and happy with it again, I have to remaster it!

And again I’ve had this on my mind for a while now, mulling it over, because it’s quite a big project. But 7 days ago i finalized my decision and started looking at references and whatnot. It took me so long to find references bc I was confused of the angle of Juliet’s head in the original painting (so I’ve changed the angle whoops) and i needed to make sense of it all. Before i knew it i had spent 5 hours (according to procreates tracker) drawing, and literally nothing had changed.. but then i spent like 2 hours more and THAT did it. It was like digging a whole in the ground searching for water. You dig a little and nothing happens, and when you finally dig deep enough the water reveals itself like a goldmine.

Anyways, i haven’t gotten around to do any recoloring yet, so ill show you the sketch (ahem, traced) of my 2022 version versus what I have now

The one on the left is the 2022 version. The one on the right is the current sketch.

I’m trying to incorporate a lot more body language from baz this time around. I think the old sketch of baz was very rigid. His torso is very short 💀 my biggest issue was his face though. It was far too feminine. The bone structure wasn’t exactly giving baz, in fact the whole face didn’t look like baz to me. The expression also bothered me, it was too superficial. Like it’s exactly the predictable expression you expect him to have. I tried to spice it up in the new version by making him appear a bit more anguished. It’s romeo and juliet after all.

Im currently looking at references to what clothes he should be wearing (don’t worry, i wont cover up his sleeves. Even if it’s more time period accurate) so if y’all have any inspo or suggestions, feel free to share them with me!

While baz is the inly thing getting completely redone, I’m also touching up some other thins. Just giving it a more refined, finished look overall. The plants in the original were really messily done, so i’m gonna work a lot on those. 2022 me also slacked on the curtains, so I’m repainting those to match the original frank bernard painting.

Once I’m done with it all i think i might sell some prints. Ive gotten requests to sell prints of this one before, but never really got around to do more than research. If i do make prints, I’m a bit worried they’ll all go to waste bc they’ll have to be shipped from denmark, and shipping in expensive :(( (I’ve tried to set up middlemen and it didn’t work for me. Red bubble wont even allow me to add a credit card😬) but if y’all are still interested in prints, do let me know! Ill definitely put in more of an effort to make it happen if i know it wont be in vain :))

Thats all from me for today :3 see ya next time

(Also check out what my COBB partner @thewholelemon is doing! It’s gonna be so good!)

Tags! @monbons @raenestee @j-nipper-95 @orange-peony

Id love to see what y’all are doing!

[evesaintyves]

for @remadoramicrofics 10/5 prompt, "Midnight." Nine 100-ish word drabbles. Read below or on AO3 🍻

 

1

The streets are shiny with all-day drizzle and they double the colour of the neons and the traffic lights and and the creature-eyes of cars. Young girls flocking down the avenue like calling birds. The fuzz and whine of a band tuning. And Tonks's eyes are smokey dark—Remus can't tell if she leaned into a mirror to line them with kohl, or simply squeezed them shut and changed them from within—and her lips are like glossy red lacquer. She's smiling, pulling his lapels to make him stumble into her. He's stumbling. He's letting it happen.

 

2

It's already midnight and he's due at work by four. He's just started, hasn't been paid yet, so Sirius is buying drinks. If she knows, she's been nice enough not to mention it. It's been months of this uncomfortable charity and Remus has been lying awake thinking of what happens when it dries up. The plan is to squirrel some cash into the bag he keeps always-packed out of habit for whenever things fall apart; the reality is, he's never been good at that. There's always some crisis or some hundred small exigencies eating his savings until they're gone.

3

He's thought about telling her. Not just tonight because he needs to get some sleep, but because he entertains a silly fantasy of her dropping by when it's slow, of slipping her an espresso and one of his chelsea buns, and her delighted face: Lupin, you made this? Leaning over the counter, playing with his apron strings. It's idiotic, and it's not how that would go. There'd be questions ( working for muggles? Do you need the money that much? ) and there'd be the tacit admission that this, baking rolls and tweezing biscotti into piles, really is about the best he can do.

4

She mentioned, once, that she worked at Madame Malkins' for four days before being sacked.

Well, she said, cracking a licorice snap, it was partly because I altered the uniform—horrible long frumpy thing. I made it shorter, nipped in the waist. I also made it lime green.

And... the other part?

Told a customer to suck my dick.

She played the line completely straight, which made him laugh so hard he inhaled a mouthful of the crisps she'd brought him, and the two of them had sat chuckling, in the dead of night on a surveillance mission, for an absurdly long time.

 

5

But when he thought later about the various reasons he'd been sacked—too ill to work, or worse, too ill and showed up anyway, bosses thinking he was dopesick or high, bony arms and knackered clothes making it hard to argue—it left a sour taste in his mouth. He has smiled through rudeness, through undisguised smouldering contempt, to keep a paychecque coming in. Dignity is a luxury.

When they stop for pizza the place is slammed, the slices take an age to reheat, and Tonks rolls her eyes and mutters unbelievable when the kid hands over their greasy paper plates.

 

6

There was a girl at a bar, long ago when he was twentyoneish and still trying, who pulled at his clothes quite like Tonks is and let him kiss her in the fog of last-orders cigarettes outside. He was drunk, absolutely trollied, and when she yanked back from kissing him to look him in the face he could see that she was too.

You reek of chips, she told him, and hailed a cab.

He'd lost his job at the chippie moping about it in bed all week. Fifteen years later, he still worries that he has that stench on him—not just of shit work, but of desperation. Loneliness.

 

7

She buys an entire packet of fags to smoke one and throw the rest away.

I'll smoke them all if I don't, she shrugs. Three hours until work. He's sobering up, but she still has this glow about her, luminous and hazy as the bar-lights reflected on the street.

I ought to get you home.

Out of money?

Er—

She presses up against him. Her smoke gets in his eyes. There's no lipstick on the cigarette butt; it must just be her.

I don't want to go home, she says. I'm having fun. I could kick around on the street with you for hours.

 

8

He almost tells her, then, standing by the rubbish bin on the corner, bass vibrating the pavement, being jostled by hen-nights and lads in packs walking four-and-five-abreast. But tonight has been so lovely he'd like to preserve it under glass, keep it on a shelf, look down into the electric colour of it forever. If he told her, there'd be fumbling explanations, she'd muster herself to seem excited for him, the way she does. Not tonight. Not this one night.

So he bends to kiss her cherry lips instead.

He hates the taste of cigarettes. Still, it's heavenly. She slides her hands under his jacket and around his back.

 

9

Four-sixteen. He flips the switches. Fluorescents buzz like a headache. He's late because he indulged himself to brush his teeth and shave. Buns out to proof, then into the oven. Coffee grinding, that head-clearing smell. Closing shift left the milk out. Down the sink.

Before he flips the OPEN sign, when it's dark outside the windows and the café is just a bright box in a black void, it's easy to imagine: the bun fresh and steaming, her blue fingernails clinking on the little espresso cup. She takes a bite, makes a tiny wordless sound. Closes her eyes, lost in pleasure.

image by me