#I actually got pneumonia once doing this

[coldswarkids]

I just took NyQuil for the first time ever in my life. wish me Godspeed lads

[saintcarrionn]

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[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[gallusrostromegalus]

hi i see that you have much smart dog experience. i may have accidentally purchased such a dog. she's only 10 weeks, and ive had her 1, and she's already outmatched every puzzle feeder i got or have made. to the point that she is morosely disappointed when her food comes in an actual food bowl. do you know where i can find like. "heres 100 enrichment toys you can make out of free trash so your dog stops eating fucking rocks for enrichment" lists. i only have so many paper towel tubes XD

Herschel now just disassembles puzzle feeders, so I've been focusing on "Toys that, even if he already knows how to operate them, will still take TIME for him to collect the treat from" to give him something to fuss with.

Herschel eats all his meals out of a Kong Wobbler, because he will otherwise eat so fast he will literally inhale and choke on his kibble and I do not need him developing pneumonia from aspiration. Even though it's a "Simple" toy it slows him down and he does have to think a bit to tip it in the most efficient manner possible. Kong's "Flipz", "Gyro" and "Rewards Wally" are also really good "dog needs to think/carefully manipulate the toy for food" toys that act as both mental stimulation and exercise and "give human a break for up to twelve minutes" toys.

I highly reccomend KONG as a brand- they're local to Denver and have an impeccable saftey record and all of the toys I have gotten from them have held up extremely well vs. the ravages of three entirely too smart and strong-jawed dogs at once.

Some more thoughts:

If she's not prone to shredding rubber, the kind of treat toys she has to chew are also good stimulation.

If you don't want to give her That Many treats, my vet said that dogs can have as many green beans as they want. Just make sure that the beans haven't had salt added to them- canned usually does, but frozen green beans usually don't, but always check the label.

You can make nearly any toy last longer, or make a cheap long-puzzle by freezing the treats so they take longer to eat AND provides hydration. Herschel's most favorite treat of all time is literally a wad of sliced green beans in a dixie cup, filled with water and frozen. Just peel off the cup and hand him the chunk of ice and he's good for up to half an hour and more chill afterwards.

You can also freeze lick mats

If your girl is like Charlie and doesn't like greenbeans, you can also try freezing paper cups of: Canned pumpkin, apple slices in water, putting some ice cubes in the bottom of the cup, a gob of peanut butter in the middle and then fill it with water to make a peanutbutter filled ice cube.

If your girl is REALLY like charlie who has figured out how to use labor negotiation and strike tactics for better treats: boiled chicken chunks frozen in some of the water you boiled them in.

Walkies are as much mental stimulation as they are physical exercise. Take her out and let her sniff to her heart's content.

Also Puppies in particular need like, SO MUCH exercise.

Let her participate in activities with you. Herschel and charlie sit in the kitchen and I narrate cooking dinner to them, which seems to interest them, even if I don't have spare veggie ends to give them. I also frequently bring them along in the car if I'm running errands when it's cold enough to do that, so they have something new to look at, and get to participate. I also am more likely to stop at a new park and give myself some exercise and mental stimulation.

Training her to do tasks is GREAT Smart Dog enrichment- esp if she's a herding or heeler, they LOVE being helpful. I taught the dogs they get a small treat if they come in from the yard without me having to go chase them down, which saved me a lot of hassle, and now I'm working on teaching herschel to pick things up off the floor for me if I drop them and alert for chickpeas, which my housemate is allergic to.

A lot of dogs like cat-type toys. Tie a stick or some fleece to some paracord and drag or flycast it around for her to chase/play tug with when she catches it. Toys that bounce unexpectedly were also a huge hit. or just wave the string around the cat and the corgi both like that.

If you live in farm country or know other people with pets, you can grab something with the scent of another animal on it and bring it home for her to smell. Charlie and Herschel spent the better part of three days investigating the wad of horse undercoat I brought home and put in the spare wobbler for them to smell.

[hughiecampbelle]

Gen V Preference: Taking Care Of You When Sick:

A/N: Not requested, just a cute idea I had :) I thought about what Luke would do and I got a little obsessed lol! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Luke is attentive and careful and actually really good at determining when or if doctors should get involved. He can tell the difference between a regular cough and a Pneumonia cough. He goes out and gets everything you'd need (and then some). He's good at playing nurse and listens when you tell him it's nothing, just a cold. He's seen you through the flu, so he at least knows when you're being honest and when you're down playing it. He makes sure you don't move, handing you the remote to the TV and checking in on you between classes (or skipping them altogether despite your objections) and makes sure you take medicine every few hours on the dot. It's like the way he took care of Sam growing up, looking after him. It makes him feel wanted and helpful, even more super than when he's in the arena.

Jordan avoids you at all costs. Because they've never been sick, they treat it like the plague. It freaks them out that your body is hot but you're freezing, piling on the blankets. They know there's no way they could catch it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't gross them out. The coughing, the sneezing, the tissues. They don't want to be near any of it. They leave you in their dorm with everything you need, but that's as far as they'll go. They keep a respectable distance and remind you about their busy day (classes, study groups, extracurriculars, their internship, etc.) so they won't be around much. You know how they really feel and try not to take it personally. Jordan isn't cold, but they're not the most nurturing or warm. You didn't expect them to dote on you. You know they'll come back when you're better, more like yourself, and things between you will be fine.

Andre isn't exactly sure what to do or how to help. He knew that humans were way more fragile than Supes. There's the obvious: they're not indestructible, they don't have super strength or x-ray vision, they can't fly and they aren't able to control things. And there's the not so obvious: they catch and spread viruses and bugs, especially when they're kids, and it's just part of the human experience. He understands the basics of the immune system, but you end up having to explain that it's small, it'll pass in a few days, and all you need is rest. He makes sure you're comfortable and have everything you need, but then he kinda stands there a little clueless. You take your medicine and fall asleep on and off. You don't need him to look after you, you just appreciate his company.

Cate isn't the most thoughtful or caring. She knows what will happen, how you'll get worse before you get better, and she knows you can take care of yourself, so she really leaves it up to you. She might hang around and try to sound empathetic, but for the most part her day, her schedule, isn't thrown off because you're sick. She might even avoid you. She can't make you get better faster, it's the type of thing that needs to run its course. Because she has no control over the situation, she has little interest in it and you. She might feign worry or interest or whatever emotion is necessary for the situation, but for the most part she lets you be on your own, checking in between classes or activities. Once you're feeling better, that's when she returns to her affectionate self, that's when she goes back to controlling you.

Marie has seen human sickness before. Her mom and dad and sister each fell victim to flu season every couple years and she would get to play nurse, feeling like a hero because she took care of them. When you get sick she isn't fazed or worried, she knows it'll go away in a few days, maybe a little longer. There isn't a lot from her childhood she likes to remember or reminisce on, but looking after her sister and her parents is definitely one of the sweeter memories she has. She gets you everything you need and makes sure you're comfortable and, despite her best efforts, you shoo her away to class, telling her you'll sleep while she's away. She texts you during class checking-in. She might even open up a little and tell you about the time her mom was sick and she spent the whole day with her in bed, heating up soup and bringing in more tissues. She was so scared the first time it happened, but her mom talked her down and explained everything.

Emma makes fun of you. You're so sniffly and achy and snuggled up in her bed with every blanket you can find. You look and sound ridiculous. Once she realizes this bug isn't that serious and will be out of your system in a few days, she's not too worried. She offers you booze and weed, unsure of how to help, and you thank her, but turn her down politely. What you really need is an endless supply of tissues and bad TV. That she can do, pulling up the streaming services on her computer and grabbing every roll of toilet paper from the communal bathrooms. Because she can't get sick, she lies beside you and the two of you fall asleep together. She's not particularly nurturing, but she finds other ways to make you feel better that is far more fitting for her personality.

Sam freaks out. When he was locked away, getting sick meant certain death. He knows he shouldn't jump to that kind of conclusion, but he just gets so afraid. So many people he knew (or at least learned their faces) died because of a virus. You telling him that you caught one sends him into a panic. Realizing this, you immediately clarify it's just a cold, it's nothing. At first he avoids you, afraid of what will happen. Will your skin bubble up and fall off? Will your eyes melt? Will you lose all feeling from the chest down? Will any of this be permanent? You break it down for him: how long it'll last, the symptoms, the medications you'll take. That eases some of his anxieties and, after you get better, he feels silly for freaking out. The next time you get sick, especially if it's worse like the flu or pneumonia, you go through the cycle again.

[tiredfox64]

Okay I have a prompt that’s been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I can never get it right (probably because I’m the one who wrote it) but it’s a Liu Kang prompt, the reader is fem and is VERY OF AGE like late 20’s or something so nothing gross. But it’s “sweetheart, my tattoos are older than you.” RAHHHH RAHHH RAHHH FIRE GOD LIU KANG RUIN ME TO THE DAWN OF TIMEEEEEEEEE

You’re Not That Old

Yip notes: no entienda ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

Pairing: Liu Kang (MK1) x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: It's short I'm sorry

Ah late 20s. Time to slow things down and take a step back. You’re not a party animal anymore. You’re not a young adult anymore for some odd reason even though your late 20s are not at all old. Really, you got a long way before death comes and takes you naturally. Death’s eyes are not on you so why are you still complaining?

“Ugh! I’m so freaking old.” You whined.

Your boyfriend looked at you with this somewhat disappointed look. Or he might have been judging you. It’s hard to tell with those godly light eyes. His arms folded before he began speaking.

“Old? I would hardly call you old. I do not see a single wrinkle on your face that would indicate your age.”

“Yes there is, look.” You pointed to a smile line. Those are natural and could appear at any age. It’s not even that noticeable!

Like the sassy god that Liu Kang is he rolled his eyes at your display of sorrow. It’s unnecessary. You’re still as young as a blooming flower yet here you are acting like you’re sixty. Shoot, even Liu Kang would consider sixty young since not many naturally die at that age.

Could he really judge fairly though? He is a god who has lived for eons. He has seen life created and life succumb to death. He has seen it in all eras at all ages. But this isn’t the 1800s when it was impressive to reach thirty without being close to death due to pneumonia. You’re young and full of energy still. You don’t even feel any strain in your joints or have any complaints of back pain. He wouldn’t even say your age is an age of concern when it comes to wanting kids. You’re not on thin ice, the ice is thick and sturdy.

“I believe you are seeing things that are not there.” He reassured you.

“Oh sure, it’s easy for you to say that when you’ve stayed the same age for years,” Eons actually, “There is nothing about you that indicates that you are older than me.”

That’s when Liu Kang got closer to you. You were still looking at yourself in your vanity mirror before you saw his hand come closer to you. He gently placed his hand below your chin before guiding your face to look at him. He tilted your head up and you saw how he looked down at you. You could already tell by that smug grin of his that he was about to prove you wrong.

“Sweetheart, my tattoos are older than you.” He said in a low, husky voice.

…

He’s…not wrong. You were proven wrong.

Liu Kang has had those tattoos ever since he became a god back in his original timeline. It just seemed to be an aspect of being a god. Those tattoos may be younger than him, but they are older than you.

If you haven’t already noticed those glorious dragon tattoos even though you have been with Liu Kang for a long time he will help you notice. They began glowing like they usually would when he uses his fire powers except he was holding back. He can’t burn that pretty face of yours. The light blue light radiated and caught your eye. Then your attention was brought right back to Liu Kang’s face once you felt his thumb lightly caress your face.

“See? I told you that you are not old.” He said before he leaned down and gave you a kiss.

He let go of your face before walking off to do some important duties. Probably to train the others or have a word with the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster about an upcoming mission. I don’t know, you don’t care. You’re just stunned by what he said.

1: God just called you sweetheart.

2: That was so smooth and you don’t understand why.

It might have been the face grab. It might have been his voice. It might be because he made his tattoos glow in that moment so you could get the point.

Whatever it was, thank goodness it worked. It made you forget about how old—I mean young you are!

Yap notes: I'm genuinely sorry if this is not what you wanted, I read the prompt so many times and I just think I wasn't the right woman for the job. I think this is more on me and something not going correctly in my brain. Once again I'm sorry if this is not what you wanted I hope someone else will be able to get it right for you.

[penkura]

Could you do a Trafalgar law x female where he rescued her a few years back and now is finally seeing her again but now she's a fierce doctor pirate?

Hi!! I hope this is good, I wasn't sure what to do for it so I just went with what came to me. ;3; I'd be glad to look at it again for another part in the future if you'd like!

Law wasn’t expecting to ever see you again, just like he’d never expected to meet you and save your life while he was still getting started as a pirate himself. Its strange to see you now, you look so different yet still the same, just like the day the Heart Pirates had left your little island. You must be about twenty-two at this point, it’s already been eight years since you met, right? You were fourteen back then and near death’s door, sixteen-year-old Law hadn’t ever expected to be convinced to heal a random girl on the small island his crew ended up on by accident. Your father begged them for help when he heard Law was a doctor, you were all he had left after your mother left the two of you, he couldn’t lose you too.

You were beyond lucky that it wasn’t more than a bad case of pneumonia, according to Law once he agreed to come check you. Left unchecked, you probably would have died in a few days as your sickness progressed and got worse, you and your father were grateful to Law and allowed him, Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo to stay with you for the few days they needed to restock supplies and make sure you were really on the mend. You wanted to go with the Heart Pirates when they left, even talked to your dad about it and he agreed to letting you go if Law accepted tour proposal to join them, but they were gone before you ever had a chance. You didn’t even have the time to say goodbye before they left, it was so sudden you wondered if you’d done something to make them leave sooner than you expected they would.

Part of you believed you and Law were getting along well. You had told him you wanted to become a nurse one day, and thought that might lead to him accepting you joining his crew, but there was no chance of that after they left.

Now Law is surprised to see you on Sabaody, with another pirate crew. Small timers it seems, he can’t be bothered to remember your crews name, but oh does he remember you. Part of their sudden departure from your home was because Law didn’t want to get too close to you, he didn’t want to start having feelings for you, though it was a bit too late for that at the time, and now he realizes he should’ve brought you along.

Law doesn’t think you notice him at first, you’re a bit busy reprimanding one of your crewmates for being reckless as you tend to his wounds, the man swearing that it was the fault of a Celestial Dragon that he’d been injured. The surgeon of death completely ignores your crewmate while he watches you dress the wounds, you really are good at it. You were serious back then after all, when you told him you wanted to be a nurse.  It looks like you’ve become the actual doctor for your crew though, in just the little bit of time he’s watched you.

You don’t notice him for a few minutes more, until one of your crewmates points out that you’re being stared at, and it makes you happy to see Law again. You’re about to go over and say hello, see how he’s been the last eight years, before your captain calls for you, so you simply give him a grin and a wave, which Law returns with the slightest wave himself as you go off with your crew, hearing you shout back at your captain that you were busy because someone else was an idiot.

Maybe, Law thinks, he’ll get the chance to catch up with you later on. If you’re not too attached to your crew, perhaps you’ll want to go along with him instead.

[nordicfiord]

May your 2025 be as great as it could be!

So, um. I was thinking I should do some self-reflection, and... it ended up here. So. Um. I will rumble a bit, if you don't mind.

I haven't been active on tumblr for a long, long time now. Mostly because english is not my first language, and when I didn't have the strength to post literally anywhere, the task to additionally translate my thoughts seem... tedious. So, I just lived my life. At that time, I was drawing a pic or two about once a month. Just some fandom stuff, or something related to the development of my game (I really hope to get it done in 2025... just a good demo would be nice too). And then I got a really bad pneumonia. And a really big hyper fixation on Slay the Princess. At the same time. I must admit, I played the game before. At the beginning of 2024. I was very glad to do it! But it didn't hit quite as hard as now. So... I watched. Lots of streams. Lots of letsplays. Lots and lots of opinions on the same game, same (almost infinite) choices. Then? Animatics. Designes of the Voices. Lots and lots and lots of creativity. "Wait, you could DO that???" Then designing Sceptic and Contrarian as birds (and as a sort of crossover with two of my characters). (here they are btw!)

And then... Birdmen. Hero. Paranoid. It was fun. Cold. For whatever reason. I just like him. Sceptic and Contrarian, because I had a thought about their designes. And then I was like... why not return to the tumblr? And here I was. Just. Pouring my designes and shenanigans on you guys. I'm sorry if I'm annoying, I'm just... really, really fixated. I didn't expect to be accepted. But I was. I feel like I am sitting on the corner of a very warm fandom and I'm graced with sunlight. I'm really, really grateful! And a bit afraid that this dream will end, I will return to making my game, and will not be making as much silly little doodles as I am now. But... that didn't happen yet, didn't it? I will doodle silly stuff for as long as I can! ...it might or might not contain a lot of Contrarian-related stuff because I just adore him too much. He's just like me fr fr. I just feel like... if he was to make something he, too, would just throw random things on the wall and see if something stick. God help us actually finish something haha. So, back to my point. You are all incredible. I love all of you, Slay the Princess fandom. I wish you only the best! Cheers to you!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The delivery girl

Randolph Ballinger x fem!reader

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing, use of a weapon, attempted sa

Summary : You need supplies at any time of the year, but especially in winter, which covers the land like a white cloak and won't let go. But supplies had to be delivered and each of the cadets at the academy tried to get a glimpse of the delivery girl...but only one of them actually got her look back.

info : The second work for Randolph, I just love him such a sweet evil character. I hope you enjoy reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The snow seemed to have settled everywhere in the country, the towns, the villages, even the small bars and houses that became more and more isolated the further you got from the city.

Even the military academy was not spared from the snow and the cadets' paths and access roads had to be shoveled clear again and again, especially so that the supplies could be delivered.

She had to bring the packed food to the academy on the cart every two weeks, prepared by her sickly father on the small farm.

Because with pneumonia, it was impossible for her father to even make it to the academy in the cold outside, ,,God bless you my child, come back safely” he said goodbye to her as he leaned against the door and waved goodbye to her and she waved back to him as she did every time until she disappeared from his sight.

She never looked back afraid he might collapse when he saw her worried look, nothing was easy out here, it wasn't New York where you could seemingly make money anywhere.

If her father died she would have to figure it all out on her own, a thought that kept her awake at night, always waking her up only to pull herself together when she saw him needing something.

Because in this world without a son or husband, the dream of having something of her own as a woman seemed unattainable unless you got the remains of a fire that had once burned and found yourself in ashes and nothing.

Letting the horse's reins curl every now and then she pulled her coat tighter around her and tried to keep her fingers warm, ,,Good acorn keep it up” she praised the stallion who was far beyond his young years but still strong enough to pull the cart with the goods.

The bay horse just snorted and continued to make his way through the snow which fortunately hadn't piled up too high this time but she knew that could all change in a few hours.

A smile came to her lips as she thought of him, he would have tried to cheer her up now, to cheer her up with his more bad than right poems that somehow warmed her heart.

An hour later, as she slowly emerged from the forest, the soft ground became harder where stones had been laid and she saw the large academy building.

The dark iron gate was open and waiting for her and she drove through it, it was always different, stone and iron, clothes and order a totally different environment from her home but an environment in which she would find him.

A simple signature and a short conversation later she found herself in the inner area of the academy and came to a stop with her cart in front of the pantry and took a last breath as she stepped off the cart, ,,Well done” she praised the animal and patted him before grabbing the first pack of dried beans and pulling them into the large pantry.

And so it went for the next few minutes, a pack with jars or loose beans was brought into the chamber, stacked, hung up or placed in a box, in the past she had tracked the small things and her father had taken the heavier ones from her but she had to manage this alone.

The last thing to go was the meat, the heaviest and biggest ,,You can do it” she tried to encourage herself as she pulled the side of beef towards her and just managed to get it up from the cart when the falling hold tore the meat from her hand, ,,Shit” she muttered to herself and tried to pick it up again but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't do it, it was too heavy.

Until the moment she heard several footsteps on the snow and tensed as she saw three cadets smiling at her, three she didn't know, three who weren't him, three young men looking down at her and making her want to get back on her wagon.

,,Come on girl, let's help you” she heard and her refusal was simply ignored, as if she hadn't been noticed at all, as she walked behind the three of them not only for the meat, which was the most valuable, but also to see that it was placed correctly and didn't rot faster.

Only when everything was in the right place and the wagon was empty would she get her money, which was just enough to live on - not everyone was allowed into the military academy.

,,Thank you...however, the chamber should be closed again if you would please leave,” she asked the three still standing in the doorway not wanting to go any further in than necessary especially when the three still didn't leave, ,,Don't we deserve a reward for helping?" one of the three asked and stepped forward to her.

Pulling her hand away as he reached for it she knew the three would be punished if anyone noticed, but all she heard was the cannon banging it was training...no one would hear her scream.

Her fear amused the three and she was about to run away, knew when better to give in as hands on her coat tried to pull her back, ,,No! Let go!” she screamed at the three trying to take off her coat to get away from the three who had an easy time pulling her back.

Tears obscured her vision as suddenly a shot was heard clearer and louder, wood splintered and the three suddenly let go of her and she stumbled forward and someone held her.

,,The next bullet will kill! Get away from her!” her rescuer demanded and she looked up, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks as the three moved away and only when they turned away did he put the gun down.

His hands wrapped around her, holding her close, trying to allay her fears, always embracing her, making her feel safe, making even the coldest winter warm.

,,Randolph! Thank God it's you I thought you would-" her voice broke off as he clasped her face with her hands and wiped away her tears and her fear met his relief, his calm and courage gradually soothed her tears and he dried them with his cloth ,,I know I'm here love nothing will happen to you when I'm here' he promised her.

His hands held hers, his warm ones touched her trembling ones and she finally felt his kiss again, she finally felt his love as he kissed her, held her and the thought of being seen was forgotten as long as they finally had each other.

The intimate kiss became smaller as he kissed her cheek and her hands, always did, showed that he loved her completely, ,,No one will hurt you I'll take care of it” he promised her again and she nodded knowing that he had to do what he had to do...but what was the blood of three shameful deeds when she had found her love.

As the couple lay in each other's arms for a few more moments, he hlaf to straighten her clothes slightly before he held her hand and helped her get on the wagon, ,,Next time I'll pick flowers instead of a gun for you," and she couldn't help but smile, always seeming to know what he had to do to make her smile.

His kisses, though demanding, were never invasive, but rather gentle and loving, as if he knew that in this already cruel world, gentleness in love was the key to survival.

Their hands touched one last time and he kissed her goodbye before she gripped the reins tighter and gave Acorn the command to move again, not only had she fulfilled her task but she had finally seen her loved one again from whom she had been separated for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@tori111777 , @xxxibgdrgons , @0m-m-m0 , @simonsrealwife

[onceuponafosterkid]

Every now and then I am reminded how hard it is being an adult foster youth. I’m only 21, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing. This week was really hard. I got sick on Monday while I was at work, but I have this fear of letting people down so I toughed it out. I got home and I had a fever of 103. I took some Tylenol but I can’t afford groceries right now so I don’t have any cold medicine or anything. I took Tuesday off of work thinking I needed a day to just recover. I mean, I’m working full time, taking three classes one of which is a two and half hour in person class twice a week after work so I thought maybe I was overdoing it right? But I’m pushing myself physically to avoid what’s going on mentally and yes I’m in therapy I know that’s not good but it’s what’s keeping me alive for right now. Anyway I go back to work on Wednesday but I have a cough and a headache and I just don’t feel great but I already took a day off I don’t want to make my boss mad. After work I take an at home Covid test my foster mom gave me and it’s negative, so I go to urgent care because day three of having a fever that’s now reached 103.5 and I don’t know what’s wrong. Urgent care does a Covid test that I know is going to be negative because I just took one, and they send me home. So if they sent me home I must just be overthinking this right? Maybe it’s not that bad. But I can’t work until the fever is gone and nothing is making the fever come down the cough is triggering my asthma so on Friday my foster mom takes me to the ER and there I find out I have pneumonia. They rehydrate me because I have been unable to keep anything down and sweating so much that water does nothing for me, and they give some antibiotics and I’m able to go home while they send meds to the pharmacy and finally I’m feeling like it’ll be okay. But the Walgreens they sent the meds to is closed on weekends, and I’m not supposed to wait until Monday so I call and ask them to send it to a different location which I find out halfway through Saturday the pharmacy is actually closed. So I call back again and ask them to send it down the street to Walmart but then they never call in the meds. So I ask my foster mom to call them for me and ask them to send the meds because it’s almost Sunday and I’m starting to feel like crap again and the fever is gone but I can’t breathe and my inhaler is expired and they were supposed to send a new one. She called and they said they would send them and she said she’d pick them up so I spent today cleaning in preparation for feeling better once I get my meds and once I’m done cleaning I sit on my floor and I start crying because I feel so freaking alone. Which is stupid because my foster mom has been taking care of me this whole time, sending me food and taking me to the ER but I can’t help but feel guilty because it’s not her job anymore to take care of me and she’s got a family at home, six kids counting on her but I don’t have anyone else to go to for help. I’m 21, I’m single, my bio family has left me again and it’s just been a really long week you know? It’s not like I have friends I can’t talk to, I lost them all when the assault at Wendy’s happened so I’m just sitting here fucking crying because I’m tired and it sounds very stupid but I’ve realized that it’s nobody’s job to help me. I’m in this alone and usually I can pretend that doesn’t hurt but not this week, not right now. But that’s just what happens when you age out. You’re alone unless you can find people and apparently I’m not very good at finding other people and I don’t know why. Anyway, I just needed a moment I guess. I feel like 12 year old me sitting outside my cottage at residential wondering if I’ll always be alone. I wish I could tell her the answer is no, but at this point in time I don’t have the answer she needs so for now I’m just crying with her.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

🧑‍⚕️ for Chris! Cookie treat:

🍪

CW: BBU, sickfic, ableism from Luke Petrus, general Luke Petrus warning, minor whump (OC is 17), brief implied noncon references

-

"What the heck did you do now, Petrus?" The doctor - barely out of med school, still young and learning the twists and turns of the Facility's labyrinth of hallways - sighs. He's been here barely a year, and already learned that Luke Petrus has a reputation for quick turnarounds because he runs his trainees into the ground. Metaphorically speaking.

His trainees aren't generally allowed to actually run much of anywhere at all. Or get out of bed.

Petrus rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. "Nothing. He was being a little shit this morning, breaking all his rules. I checked and his forehead was hot, so I brought him in here."

"Well... at least you didn't OD him again."

"That was one time, and he should have been fine, it's not my fault his body metabolizes the drugs wrong-"

"Maybe don't use our freaking supplies without speaking to a doctor first to make sure next time?" Dr. Ross glances into the exam through through the window cut into the door.

The trainee lays on his back on the exam table, staring listlessly up towards the flickering florescent lights overhead. His hands are moving, constantly crushing the crinkling paper beneath him or touching himself at the throat, the collarbone, the stomach. He's humming, audible through the door. A toneless, tuneless ah ah ah ah through barely open lips.

"Okay, well. I'll take a look. Any specific complaints other than the fever?"

"Clammy as fuck, coughing, sneezing... all that shit. Complained about his food, earlier, and I know he knows better than that." Petrus narrows his eyes, and Dr. Ross tries not to feel a shiver down his own spine. "He better be burning hot enough to hallucinate or he is going to fucking regret talking shit to me about the food."

Dr. Ross pauses. "The food is pretty legendarily... um, crap, though," He points out. The look Petrus gives him is so derisive he can all but feel it eat into him like acid. "I'll take a look. Probably he'll need an overnight in the clinic."

"I only have a few weeks left to finish him up. So you get him able to take training tomorrow night, got it?"

"I can't promise-"

"This one is going to a personal friend of Karen Renford's," Petrus says in a low voice. "A personal. friend. Got it?"

Dr. Ross swallows, trying not to look unnerved. "Got it."

"Good. Message me once he's good to go back, I'm going to head home for a few hours. If he's faking this..."

"Handler Petrus. How exactly would he fake a fever?" Dr. Ross looks into the exam room again. The trainee is still humming, watching his own fingers as he moves them between himself and the light. His skin is pale, a little grayish. His freckles stand out like paint splatters all over his body.

"Wouldn't put it past him. Trainees figure out all kinds of shit. Get him better and get him to stop doing that... Shit with his hands, making those noises. Punish him if he keeps it up, it's part of his training plan."

"Hm," Dr. Ross says, noncommittal. "I'll send his test results over in a bit. Enjoy your time at home."

He steps inside just to end the conversation, walking idly over to a countertop, where he opens a cupboard above and pulls out a small canister of lollipops. "Hello, 223499."

The boy's voice cuts off like a radio. After a pause, he starts mumbling, too low for Dr. Ross to hear.

"... right. Well. Your handler says you're feeling under the weather. Mind if I take a look?"

The trainee turns his head then. He looks somewhere off to one side of the doctor, blinking a little dazedly. "... take a look?"

His voice is slow, sluggish, but each word is so carefully placed.

"Yes."

The trainee looks away again. Dr. Ross sighs and goes with it, checking his temperature. 101.7, not great, not the worst fever. Hopefully this won't be another flu like the last one. Pneumonia nearly killed three trainees that time. He checked ears, eyes - pupils reactive, ears clear - and then touched at the lymph nodes beneath his jaw. A little swollen.

"Okay. Next up, we need to take a quick look down your throat."

Another slow blink. The trainee seemed to suddenly tense up. "You... want my throat?"

"Uh, well-" Dr. Ross turns away to pick up a tongue depressor and the swab for the test. "Yes, we need to test you."

The paper on the exam table crinkles again. The boy hums, almost wistfully, and then goes silent.

When he turns around, Dr. Ross discovers the boy on his knees in a seamless Position Two, mouth wide open.

His green eyes are empty, somewhere far away.

Dr. Ross's face burns at the sight. His stomach turns sharply, and he has to clear his throat to try and cover the way bile rises. "Uh, n-no thank you-... I just need... you need to be tested for strep throat, Trainee, not that kind of-... back up on the table, please-"

The boy looks confused, in a faded sort of way, but follows orders. He manages to clamber back up, sitting this time, listing a little to one side, then the other. But he opens his mouth again, and Dr. Ross hurries through the test as fast as he can, trying not to think about how most people gag during the strep test, but the Romantics never do.

"Good, made it. Perfect. Now, does your throat hurt a lot today?"

"Yes, sir." The boy's voice is a little raspy, now that he's talking. "A... lot. Earlier, i... cried when my... handler-"

"Don't need to hear the end of that sentence!" Dr. Ross forces false charm and ease into his voice, plucking one of the lollipops at random from the jar. "Here, let me give you this. It tastes a little weird, but it'll numb your throat and keep you from coughing." He unwraps it and holds it out. The trainee blinks at him. He blinks back.

Then he realizes. "... oh. Do you have to be... do I have to..." He leans forward. The trainee opens his mouth obediently for Dr. Ross to place the lollipop inside. Only then does his mouth close.

"'ank 'oo, ir," The trainee says around a mouthful of fake sweetener and the numbing agent already going to work. His eyes are so sweet and so vivid, and he half-smiles around the treat.

"You're welcome, 223499. I'm going to go and do your strep test. I'll be back. You just relax, okay? You can sleep in a clinic bed and get a good night's sleep."

The boy's eyebrows furrow. "Is... is it night?"

"Oh right. We're not supposed to let you know, are we? Well... I don't think it can hurt... yeah, I'm on nights right now, 11 to 9. It's about one in the morning."

"Oh." The trainee lays slowly back down, on his side, closing his eyes as he works at the sucker. "... what, what does night... look, um, look like?"

Dr. Ross swallows.

He's a fucking coward, but he doesn't answer. He just leaves, and he doesn't let himself stop and look back.

He doesn't let himself think about a boy who can't remember the sky.

God, he only has a few weeks left on this residency and he just isn't sure he can make it.

[world-of-wales]

Camillas friends trying to say she has had a tough year due to her health but what about her own husband??🫣

Oh it's mentioned, infact that's what opens up the article.

Three separate friends expressed their concerns about Camilla to The Daily Beast. While all made it clear they understood Camilla was indeed recovering well and not in danger, they variously said they believed she was finding the demands of being queen “exhausting” and that a “brutal” year spent worrying about her husband’s health had left her “run down and vulnerable.”

One friend said: “People forget that Camilla never set out to be queen. She never signed up for the hamster wheel. She just happened to fall in love with a prince. She has risen to the demands of the job but she finds it exhausting.”

She is suspected to have contracted the disease during the recent state visit to Australia and Samoa or shortly thereafter. The friend said: “At 77, to be shipped off to the other side of the world to shake hands with thousands of people when your husband has cancer is, quite frankly, too much to ask. Camilla would never complain, and of course she wanted to support her husband, but she never should have been put in that situation. And she got pneumonia as a result. I hope this makes the mandarins sit up and take notice.”

LAY OFF HER GUYS, She just fell in love with a prince 🥹

I empathise with her having to deal with these health issues and it's true that at her age it's not at all easy. But this article comes off as so entitled & tone-deaf, like I'm sorry you have to deal with this Cam but like Kourtney Kardashian once said, 'there's people that are dying'. None of whom have the privilege that you do and actually struggle to get the basic things in their life.

Also not to be a bitch but nobody forced camilla to make all those trips, including the two trips to the spa in india, which are conveniently not mentioned her just before and after the tour.

[panda-noosh]

commissions open! pm for details.

———

coriolanus snow doesn't give up easily.

he's never been able to. his position in life has never given him the room to throw his hands up and say, "i give up." his world would crumble if he did that, dragging his entire family with him. he can't let that happen.

maybe that's why he finds it impossible to give up on you.

so many people have told him that you're not worth it, and not necessarily in a rude way. nobody is under any illusion that you are anything short of phoenomenal, the type of person to drop everything for those you love. all these people tell coriolanus you're not worth it, because he's broken you before, and nobody believes he can come back from that. the attempts would just be pointless.

once, coriolanus may have agreed. in fact, there's been multiple times where he has agreed, days when you won't even look in his direction during classes, when you scurry past him in the hallways like he has some sort of horrendous, contagious disease. despite this, he can't put his feelings to rest. he can't give up. his world would crumble if he did that.

he sits in the canteen of the academy, and so do you. he's starving, and he's stacked his plate full of all the foods the chefs have provided, but he can't focus on his plate long enough to start eating, not when you're say only feet away, trying everything in your power to avoid his piercing gaze. oh, how easy it would be to just walk over to you - you'd be cornered. coriolanus knows you well enough to know you would never make a scene amongst your peers, not in the way you did during that final argument.

yes, it would be easy, but that's not the way coriolanus does things. he's eager, maybe a little desperate, but he loves you enough that he wouldn't put you through that humiliation.

so instead he watches from the sidelines as you laugh at something jener has said, all massive smiles and thrown back heads, all fake. everyone in the academy is fake, and you know that. it's a topic you and coriolanus have discussed in plenty, cuddled under a blanket, you calling him 'cor' because everyone calls him 'coryo' and you never wanted to be just like everyone else.

oh, he misses you so much.

the memory breaks him enough that he looks away; he'll try again tomorrow.

"all alone again, coryo?"

sejanus appears out of nowhere, but coriolanus doesn't make his irritation clear. though he would much rather be alone, he nods to the empty chair in front of him and says, "i was waiting for you. where's your food?"

sejanus sits. "i haven't got time to eat. professor crildum only let us go two minutes ago, says we need to use all our free time making sure we know the codex off by heart." he rolls his eyes. "i swear, i haven't properly slept in weeks."

coriolanus has to bite into a cold hashbrown to keep from saying anything that would ruin their friendship. it usually never bothers him when his rich capital friends mention their surface level struggles, but he's been irritable lately, less mentally equipped to deal with it. there's been multiple times this week where he's just wanted to tell them all to shut up, that he doesn't even remember the last time he slept on an actual mattress, let alone had a good nights sleep. coriolanus hasn't properly slept in weeks because another resident in his apartment complex is dying of pneumonia, and the sound of his cousins stomach growling keeps waking him up. he would love for his biggest issue to be the looming doom of school work.

he sips his water. "i slept like a baby. it's good for the mind."

sejanus rolls his eyes, pinching a sausage off coriolanus's plate. coriolanus isn't bothered; he finds himself looking back over at you like you're some kind of magnet, laughing away with your friends, friends who have probably told you countless times to stay away from him.

he banishes the thought as soon as it appears; your friends aren't the issue, and he knows that. he's come to terms with the fact he messed up, but that doesn't mean he can ignore the hatred he feels for anyone who tarnishes his name even more to you.

sejanus pops into his field of vision. "hello. still with us?"

coriolanus snaps his gaze back to his plate.

sejanus sighs, leaning back to get a good look at the warmth crawling up coriolanus's face. "do i even need to ask?"

"no," coriolanus snaps. "you do not."

sejanus looks over his shoulder; you're standing up, dragging your coat with you. he looks back at coriolanus and smiles. "have you spoken to them yet?"

"we're not on speaking terms."

"and how badly is that tormenting you?"

coriolanus closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. "you told me to leave it alone."

"i didn't think you'd actually listen to me, though. it's not like coriolanus snow to take the advice of others, especially when it comes to. . . well, feelings."

coriolanus clenches his jaw, watching you leave the canteen without so much as a glance in his direction. "i don't waste time chasing things i have no chance of catching."

"sounds an awful lot like giving up."

coriolanus scowls. "could you mind your business, sejanus? we both have far more important things to be focusing on."

"ah yes," sejanus muses. "not a moment to be normal teenagers. i forgot the policy for a second."

---

coriolanus remembers the first time he laid eyes on you. it was his first day taking on 'group therapy', a remedy tigris recommended to him and would not shut up about. he agreed to give it a go purely so his cousin would give him some peace. he was also reaching a point of desperation, though he loathe to admit it; the nightmares of the way - the flashbacks - were returning full force, and his already grim sleeping schedule was becoming non-existent. he would go days without a wink of sleep, too afraid to close his eyes lest the tormenting images attacked him again.

he had little hope therapy would do him any good, but he dragged himself to the youth centre anyway. he wore only a loose pair of cargo trousers and a hooded shirt; ditching his rich capitol attire seemed like the best way to remain unnoticed if he were to accidentally run into any of his school mates, none of whom seemed even a tiny bit tormented by the war they too lived through.

the group coriolanus introduced himself to upon arrival was made up of ones from the poorer side of the capitol. of course, no one from the districts would be granted the privilege of therapy, so everyone around him was still neatly dressed and civil, shaking his hand and asking him all sorts of domestic questions in an attempt to ignore the circumstances in which they were meeting. everyone had horrors behind their eyes, which coriolanus found particularly difficult to ignore; did he look like that? haunted, scared of something that happened so long ago?

he reminded himself he was there to figure that out, and so took a seat in the small circle of patients. the professional, dr langmead, sat at the head and started the session by introducing two of the three new-comers.

"coriolanus snow, callistra stray, and. . ." she looked around, eyes squinted behind her spectacles. "uh, y/n-"

the doors burst open.

corionalus span just as you entered the room, hair a mess and eyes wild. his first instinct was to cringe away from how dishevelled you are, but his manners kicked in when you looked at him, as if your eyes were somehow drawn to his the minute you walked in the room.

"ah," dr landmead drawled. "you must be our final newcomer, y/n l/n. please, take a seat."

"we use first names in here?" you asked, dashing to the seat across from coriolanus. "pretty sure i opted out of that in the sign-up agreement."

"yes, we use first names, because we understand there is nothing shameful about being here," dr langmead replied.

"i'll be the judge of that." you smiled awkwardly. "sorry. nerves make me say stupid stuff."

dr langmead merely blinked before continuing with the session. already, however, coriolanus was distracted by you, the start of something he will not be able to shake. he spent that session staring, examining the way you hold yourself, how you would always look so bored and uninterested, yet always gave the most detailed, thought-out answers when called upon. when it was your turn to speak, coriolanus was shocked to discover you were born district - district thirteen, as a matter of fact. you and your family had travelled to district ten for business when the annihilation happened, leaving you with nothing, taking away everything you held dear. it was only by luck your father managed to secure a job in district ten as entertainment manager, a job that eventually gave you and your family access to capital life. it explained how coriolanus had never seen you before.

"i haven't taken the move well, clearly," you said. "that's why i'm here. mum and-"

"what was district thirteen like?"

your eyes snapped to rubeus helm, owner of the voice. "excuse me?"

"i mean, we all know the basics," rubeus said. "radioactive animals, poison in the soil, basically unlivable unless you have that, like, genetic mutation-"

"excuse me?"

"enough now." coriolanus spoke before he could stop himself, eyes pinned on rubeus. "don't be such an idiot. if you truly believe those rumours, you don't deserve the title of capitol citizen."

the circle went quiet. even dr langmead seemes stunned, mouth open but no words coming out to diffuse the situation. coriolanus turned to you, fully prepared to apologise on rubeus's behalf, but you didn't give him a chance; you stood, chair scraping the floor, and stormed out.

coriolanus followed you, because no one else did. he found you outside the youth building, doubled over with a hand covering your mouth, silent tears pouring down your face. so many people bustled past, not giving you the time of day, and not for the first time, coriolanus wondered if the districts worked like this, if they ignored each other all the time, if they lacked compassion in the same way the capitol did.

he approached slowly. "y/n. that's your name, right?"

you closed your eyes, tightening the hold on your lips. and then, as if only comfortable acknowledging him once you gathered your bearings, you opened your eyes and nodded. "that's right."

"coriolanus snow," he said.

"i know. you're one of the big shits at the academy." at his startled expression, you chuckled and said, "i'm starting there next week. you showed up on the records. multiple times, actually."

coriolanus blushed, though he wasn't entirely sure why; he was usually so proud of his academic achievements considering they were the only truthful things he could brag about. for some reason, however, that side of him being your first impression made him cringe a little.

"do you think they'll let me back up?" you asked.

"i don't think so," coriolanus answered truthfully. "not a bad thing, though; the whole thing is a scam."

"spoken exactly like someone who can't admit he has emotional baggage. what was it for you? war trauma?"

coriolanus pursed his lips. "a little bit. just a few night terrors i can't wash away; my cousin wanted me to try talking it out, so here i am."

"here you are." you pulled yourself onto the railing behind you. "here we both are; two capitol schmucks with issues."

coriolanus tilted his head. "you'd consider yourself capitol?"

you shrugged. "i'll consider myself whatever keeps my family and i safe, and saying i'm from district thirteen certainly isn't the way to do that."

coriolanus was struck by how easily you said it, how matter-of-fact you could sound whilst talking about the cruelties of the capitol, because you weren't exaggerating. coriolanus loathed to admit it, but the rumours rubeus detailed weren't pulled from his own desire to wind up someone from the districts - those were real rumours, real beliefs that even some of the most educated panem citizens believed.

coriolanus looked down, suddenly awkward, suddenly left wondering why he followed you in the first place. He's Capitol through and through, and looking at you from afar made him think you were, too, but now he's heard you speak, heard the tiniest glimpse of your story, and he realises you could very much be the farthest thing from it.

"it's nice here."

your voice brings him back. he looks up to see you staring out at the view, hands gripping the metal railing. your tears have dried, replaced by this look of fascination directed towards the towering sky scrapers and the perfectly clean streets of the capitol before you.

"not what i'm used you," you continue.

"was thirteen bad?" it's a stupid question, almost condescending; everyone in the capitol knows about the state of district thirteen, the horror stories that came out of it even before it's annihilation.

you lift your head, shoulders rising on an inhale. "i loved it. it was home." you turn to him fully. "do you not love your home?"

coriolanus blinks. "i - i like it here. it's all i've ever known."

you scoff. "that must be nice. i can't wait to live here so long that i get numb to it all."

"hey, i'm not numb. i'm thankful-"

you raise a hand, silencing him immediately, though he doesn't know why. that kind of rudeness would usually set him on a rant unlike any other, but the words immediately die in his throat when it's you.

"i don't want you to explain yourself. you're capitol. that's all there is to it."

coriolanus blinks, unsure how to respond. you stare at him a little while longer, as if giving him the opportunity to - what? apologise? he has nothing to apologise for. the annihilation of your home had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the districts grace overstep during the war.

when the silence continues to drag on, you look away and say, "i should probably start walking home."

coriolanus can only nod, but that is enough for you. you tip your head in a silent goodbye before ducking under the railing and crossing the road, not giving coriolanus a second glance.

---

after the first encounter, coriolanus sees you all the time.

you're a good worker. excellent, even. certainly excelling the expectations of someone district born. you are in most of coriolanus's classes, though if you realise that, you don't show it. coriolanus is almost impressed by how well you ignore him, how well you ignore everyone. you keep your head down, a smart decision on your part. though coriolanus has no problem with your district heritage, he knows not everyone is of the same opinion. even now, three weeks into the school year, he catches his fellow capitol classmates staring at you like you're some kind of spectacle, an animal at a zoo. it makes him angrier than he cares to admit.

it's during your fourth week at the academy that you finally grace coriolanus with a bit of acknowledgement. at least he thinks it's your fourth week; in all honesty, the days have become mere blurs to him recently, too plagued by his ptsd for him to really pay attention to how much time is passing. all he knows is that he has seen you almost everyday for a time long enough to grow his intrigue tenfold. he has quickly become part of your group of spectators, but for a completely different reason.

he sits in the library on his own, because that's what he does all the time. it is also what you do all the time, though neither of you have ever come together during these conveniently timed study sessions. not until this particular day. coriolanus is so absorbed in his business studies textbook that he doesn't even notice you standing over him until you reach over and pluck one of his pastel highlighters off the table. his head snaps up.

"excuse - oh!" he slams his textbook closed, though he doesn't really know why. "y/n. hello."

"hello," you reply. "are you doing business studies right now?"

"um, yes."

"great." you slump into the seat next to him, shoulder crashing against his. "it's the one class i can't get a grasp on; they explain things so weirdly here, it's genuinely like you're all speaking in code." you pull his textbook across the table and open it to a page coriolanus surpassed days ago. "help?"

coriolanus stares, waiting for the punchline, or perhaps your own realisation to kick in. he can tell you feel the tension judging by the way you tap your foot and bite your lip, the way you refuse to look at him, probably expecting him to say something first.

after a few excruciating moments, you inhale and say, "so no help?"

"god forbid you cut to the chase."

you sigh, shoulders slumping in defeat. "i was hoping you'd let me off lightly."

"you haven't spoken to me in a month, y/n; i didn't think there was anything for me to let off in the first place."

you wince, crossing your arms over your chest. now that he has you all to himself, he can see the signs of exhaustion on your face, the bags under your eyes, the slump of your shoulders. your uniform looks too big, hanging off your frame like a mish-mash of blankets rather than a respectable, expensive uniform.

coriolanus leans forward, an eyebrow raised. "what's the matter?"

"how do you do it?" the question is so abrupt, like it's been ripped from your mouth by force.

"do what?" coriolanus asks.

you wave a hand. "this. all of it. the people, the attitudes. it's just so . . . different. backwards, almost." you pause to examine his face, and he has to fight off the blush threatening to make an appearance. "does it offend you when i say that?"

"no," he replies. "i just don't understand why you're saying it to me. i'm capitol, y/n, born and raised."

"i know," you say. "you're different, though."

"am i?"

you shrug. "you came after me that night, came to make sure i was okay. nobody else has even come close to making a gesture like that; i've just been ignored this entire time. like i have an illness or something."

coriolanus's first thought is that perhaps you do have an illness, most likely contracted by the heavily toxic fumes of district thirteen; he's heard all the evidence, that anything to escape thirteen after it's annihilation is likely bunged with all sorts of diseases.

he doesn't say that, though. instead he says, "so you're lonely?"

you wince. "it's embarrassing to say it out loud."

"but that's what it is, right? you miss your friends."

you shoot him a flat look. "my friends are dead, cor. complete annihilation, remember?"

coriolanus's attention should probably go straight to the blatant call-out of your comment, but instead his mind spirals to the nickname you slotted oh-so casually into the dig. his heart stutters hearing it, and he feels ridiculous for the reaction, but he'll be damned if he can help it.

"cor?" he pushes.

you frown. "are we not on a nickname basis?"

"i'm not even on a nickname basis with my own family."

"great. cor it is then." you grin, the first coriolanus has seen you properly do so since you got here. it's a transformative expression, one that brightens your haunted eyes and makes coriolanus's heart skip a single beat.

he rolls his eyes. "whatever. tell you what - there's a grade party taking place in board room three tomorrow night; i'm inviting you if you haven't already. it'll give me a plus one, and you'll get the chance to make more friends."

as soon as he says it, coriolanus knows making capitol friends isn't your goal. not at all. when you expressed being lonely, it was because every friend you had was killed; a school party isn't going to take away that kind of loneliness, the kind rooted in trauma.

your expression flickers for only a second before you wrestle it back into a smile. "oh. i didn't know you did parties."

"a few every year. splits up the work." he nudges your elbow. "what do you say?"

you purse your lips, eyes flicking to the table. after a moment, however, you meet his gaze again and say, "fine. i'm in. but you're picking me up, and i'm not dressing fancy."

----

coriolanus does exactly as you asked, because he wants this.

he truly didn't think you would actually agree to his invitation; all evidence he has observed the past few weeks points to the fact that you do not like the capitol, nor the people in it. why you would ever want to surround yourself with the very people who have tormented you throughout your entire stay is beyond him, but he can't deny he's happy you're joining him. he hates these parties just as much as you do, but he has an obligation to show his face; it's what is expected of a snow.

coriolanus knocks on your door shortly after seven. he has dressed down for the occasion, a dark blue suit with a white tie, one of grandma'am's roses pinned to the lapel. he fiddles with the stem, biting his lower lip as he waits for you to answer the door. he can hear movement behind the wood, your frustrated curses before finally the door flings open, and there you are.

you give him a grin that takes the attention off the oh-so-casual outfit you have decided to wear. coriolanus isn't very familiar with the fashions once presented in district thirteen, but he can think of no other place you got your inspiration from. you're wearing a pair of grey overalls over a plain white shirt, hair pinned back with a feather that runs down the left side of your face. unlike coriolanus, there is not a touch of make up to be seen on your face, not a touch of make up even needed.

"you're early," is the first thing you say.

coriolanus blinks. "is that not a good thing?"

"not necessarily," you reply. "what if i was still in the nude?"

coriolanus is certain he didn't hear you correctly. "excuse me?"

you wave a dismissive hand, banishing that particular conversation for another day. "never mind. let's just go."

coriolanus hasn't done anything grand, just a brisk walk through the more pleasant areas of the capitol. he had half a mind to borrow his fathers' old car, but he's glad he decided against it. you seem to enjoy the walk, happily looking at the flowers lining the sidewalk, the skyscrapers adorned with flags and happy colours. he wonders if you ever had views like this in thirteen, if your joyous reaction is a result of nostalgia or awe.

you arrive at the party, and coriolanus takes your hand. it's a bold move, but he doesn't know if he'll get the opportunity again. he doesn't care that all his classmates are oggling you both as you walk through the crowd, doesn't care that some of those classmates are even scowling, like coriolanus has suddenly become the scum of the earth for being associated with you. he tightens his grip on your hand, guiding you towards the refreshments table.

"want a drink?" he asks, and even as he says it, he can hear how short he is being.

you raise a brow before glancing at your joined hands; coriolanus only then notices his white knuckles, and quickly pulls his hand away.

"sorry," he says. "i just-"

"they've got an issue with me, cor," you interject. "not you. you don't need to get all riled up."

"they're being. . . i don't even know the word."

"assholes?"

coriolanus grins, tries to hide it behind a glass of red punch he doesn't even like the flavour of. "my grandma'am wouldn't like me saying that word."

you pluck the glass out of his hands and take a swig. "that's why i said it for you. now relax, okay? you didn't bring me here to watch you glare at your friends. at least i hope not."

coriolanus chuckles. "no. no, i didn't."

and so you join the party. as always, coriolanus thinks the whole thing is pointless and over the top, but for the first time since he started attending these parties, he isn't eager to go home at the earliest convenience. he finds himself actually having fun when you're by his side, watching you sway and jump around to the music everyone else is ignoring in favour of idle chat. coriolanus never realised just how boring his peers were until you came in as a contrast, someone who comes to a party to breathe life into it, someone who clearly knows what the meaning of 'letting go' is.

you encourage him to dance, and against his better judgement, he does just that. he dances until sweat rolls down his face, until his legs are sore, until he no longer pays attention to anything but you, not even his whispering peers sending scandalised glares your way. he accepts the food from the refreshments table and eats it like a man starved, laughing when you reach forward to wipe some sauce from the corner of his mouth.

he has fun, a new experience in itself. for so long he has been stuck in the business mindset, doing everything just to propel himself that one step forward. it's been so long since he did anything just for the sake of it, just because he can, just because he is human and he's allowed to be relaxed sometimes.

so lost in his own enjoyment, he doesn't notice the moment you duck away from him. it's only when he makes to grab for your hand and grasps nothing that he realises you are gone, and then a panic sets in. he doesn't know where it comes from, but it doesn't feel irrational considering the people surrounding you - these people don't like district born, and that's exactly what you are, all you are to people like them.

he spins, searching the room frantically for any sign of your bizarre outfit. he spots you too late, however, because by the time he finds you in the crowd, moreli has already sidled up beside you. coriolanus watches her grab your arm, that sneer on her face he so desperately wants to rip apart right now. your own expression dulls, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but how can you be confused right now? why did you think it was a good idea to run away from him? how could you be so dull?

he rushes forward, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. he snatches your arm the moment he can, placing himself between you and moreli.

moreli stumbles back, eyes widening. "excuse me."

"you're excused," coriolanus growls. "let's go, y/n. the nights over."

"wait, but i haven't-"

"y/n and i were just about to catch up," moreli says. "i don't know why you're freaking out, coryo."

coriolanus clenches his jaw and starts dragging you towards the door. he ignores the concerned glances being sent his way - to hell with all of them. he was having a good night, and it had to be spoiled by brats like moreli.

you tug on his hand, but he's too angry to even notice. it's only when you're outside in the lashing rain do you finally manage to pull your hand free, startling coriolanus back to reality.

he turns, slipping his jacket off to place over your shoulders. you step out of his way, however, frowning.

"what the hell, cor?"

"what? i saved you."

"saved me from what? moreli was asking if i'd had enough to drink!"

coriolanus rolls his eyes; sweet, innocent little you, thinking moreli meant anything kind by her actions. "so you were falling for her act."

your eyes widen, jaw dropping open. "act? coriolanus, you took me out tonight to make friends! how am i supposed to make friends if you just assume everyone is being rude to me?"

"because chances are, that's how it's going to be!"

you flinch back like coriolanus has just slapped you.

"oh, let's be real, y/n," he continues, because he's still so angry, so filled with adrenaline. "you're district. there aren't many people around here who have forgiven you for what happened."

you open and close your mouth, fighting to find the right words.

"i'm protecting you," he continues. "this party was a mistake."

"you're right," you spit. "it was. remind me to never step foot anywhere else with you, ever again." with that, you shove past him and into the rain, not even looking both ways before jogging across the street towards your home.

for a second, coriolanus is genuinely confused. he blinks, watching you go, not quite comprehending what has just happened; he was just trying to help. he was being honest at the end of the day, and what more did you want from him? he knows these people better than you do. he knows what he's talking about.

he sniffs, wiping a droplet of rain from the tip of his nose. he debates going after you, but you've already disappeared into the distance, and he's getting the vague impression you don't want to talk to him.

someone knocking into his shoulder brings him back. he looks over just as sejanus grabs him, probably a little tipsy if the alcohol on his breath is anything to go by.

"hey," he pants in coriolanus's ear. "where'd y/n go?"

coriolanus looks down, watching the raindrops crash against his dress shoes. "home." he inhales, giving sejanus his best fake smile. "i think i'll do the same, actually."

-----

you go back to ignoring him.

coriolanus can't believe the childishness. after a chat with tigris, and a little bit of thought on his part, he can understand why you were angry; as tigris said, you are your own person, a grown up who can make decisions no matter what part of the world you were born in. coriolanus should have let you make your own mistakes.

however, he still can't believe that your choice of punishment for him is the silent treatment.

you fail your business studies assignment because you refuse to let him help. he's offered about five times since the party, but every time you just turn around and pretend he hasn't even spoken. he's sat beside you at lunch, but you simply stand up and sit somewhere else.

it's like you want to have no friends.

coriolanus hates thinking it, but it's the truth; you're district. district people don't make friends in the capitol. they keep their distance, playing it smart. all coriolanus wants is to be a confidant to you, a protector.

until he sees you chatting to moreli again.

it's different this time. moreli is sitting beside you, rubbing elbows, a tray of food placed between you. there's a smile on her face, and at one point, she even laughs at something you say. coriolanus can only stare at the spectacle, an odd twist of jealousy darting around his stomach. he's got an exam to study for, this shouldn't be the thing keeping his attention, but he can't look away. if his eyes aren't deceiving him, then it looks as if moreli is actually being friendly to you.

sejanus slams his tray down in front of coriolanus, as he does every lunch. coriolanus doesn't even flinch, doesn't even bother hiding the direction his eyes are pointed. sejanus tilts his head, moving into coriolanus's view.

"hello."

coriolanus swats him away. "move."

sejanus raises a brow, looking over his shoulder. of course, it doesn't take him very long to pinpoint what has coriolanus so intrigued; despite his best efforts, you are the only thing coriolanus can talk about. he's always asking sejanus and his friends how you have been, if you've asked about him, if you're ready to talk yet. none of them know the answers, of course, because you avoid sejanus just as much as you avoid coriolanus, but he likes to try.

sejanus sighs. "this again?"

"since when were they friends?"

"moreli and y/n?" sejanus shrugs. "for a while. since the party, i think. they hang out in class all the time."

coriolanus digs his nails into his palms. "oh. good. i'm glad."

"has y/n spoken to you yet?"

"no. why?"

sejanus shrugs again. "just wondering. i think maybe you should try having a civil conversation-"

"they won't let me have any type of conversation."

"when has that ever stopped you from trying?" sejanus sighs, leaning forward. "look coryo, don't give up. whatever happened between you two at the party can be solved, but you can't give up. it's not in you."

coriolanus closes his eyes, inhaling deeply. sejanus doesn't know how hard he's been trying, how embarrassing it is to be shot down every time he so much as looks in your direction. he isn't used to this kind of treatment, but maybe that's why sejanus is right; this is a challenge, a task set before him to test if he's really got the commitment he says he does.

and so, after school that day, coriolanus catches up to you on the walk home.

it's snowing a little bit today, frost coating the ground, a hint of deep snowfall in the night. you're bundled up in a large waterproof coat that goes right to your knees, and you walk like a penguin on the ice. like coriolanus, your shoes aren't made for the ice, and yet coriolanus still manages to catch up to you.

you yelp when he taps your elbow, spinning around and very nearly slipping. he grips you a little tighter, keeping you upright, and for a minute, you look like you're not about to yell at him. however, the moment your eyes focus and the shock wears off, your expression slips into a scowl and you spin, storming off.

coriolanus groans. "y/n! stop this nonsense!"

"go away, coriolanus!"

"not until you talk to me."

much to his surprise, you stop. he takes the opportunity to walk in front and meet your eyes.

"not until you talk to me," he repeats, softer this time.

you inhale shakily. "i don't want to do this."

"i just want to explain myself," he replies. "if you want nothing to do with me after, then that's okay. i'll leave you be."

you fold your arms over your chest, looking more vulnerable than coriolanus has ever seen you before. he's so used to the tough, bulletproof version of yourself you show to the world, but now you look genuinely nervous, glancing at the ground, rubbing your foot in the frost.

but you don't run away, so coriolanus takes his chance.

"i'm sorry i assumed moreli was being rude to you," he begins. "i took you there to make friends, so i should have let you make friends. i was just worried. capitol folk. . . y/n, they aren't all clean cut and polished. they can be cruel. especially some we go to school with."

you scoff. "you think i don't know that?"

"i realise now that you probably know better than anyone," coriolanus admits. "but you understand where i'm coming from, right? i wanted to help. i wanted to protect you."

as soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, he realises how vulnerable it sounds. your eyes flick up, lips pursed, but again, you aren't running away.

he tilts his head. "do you believe me?"

you pause. "i believe you. i just don't understand why you'd go through the hassle."

"you're not a hassle."

your shoulders slump like that's the sentence that knocks the wind out of you. you drop your arms to your side and shake your head at the sky, though coriolanus catches a hint of a tiny smile playing at your lips. it makes his heart sing, a chuckle escaping him.

"what?" he asks.

you shake your head again, finally meeting his eyes. "you're a surprise and a half, coriolanus snow."

he blushes, shrugs. "i've been told that before."

you loop your arm through his. "walk me home."

----

the next few weeks are strange, but glorious.

the shift in coriolanus's personality is noticeable to everyone. he gets asked about it multiple times, but the answer is always the same: a sly smile. in reality, he doesn't need to tell anyone why he is suddenly so over the moon; they all know. they see him walking to your house every morning, laughing with you in the hallways, walking you home after a long day.

tigris has asked about you multiple times, but coriolanus never gives her a proper answer. you are like a secret, something special he wants to keep close to his heart. he truly doesn't care that you're district, and he doesn't care if everyone else knows - to him, you are a reason to get up every morning.

he has yet to actually ask you out, because he isn't sure if that's something people do these days. he's read about it in the romance novels, and heard about it amongst elderly couples who grew up in a time where asking someone for their hand was a lot simpler. coriolanus doesn't know what the protocol is these days, and he's very afraid of messing it up. nonetheless, the urge to kiss you grows stronger each day, and he knows you're expecting it, too. sometimes there are these lapses in conversation where you just stare at each other, and more often than not, your eyes end up drifting to his lips. his do the same, though he likes to think he's a bit more subtle at it than you are.

by the time coriolanus finishes up his last class of the day, it's already dark outside. the winter months will do that, but it doesn't make it any more bearable. the moment he steps out of the academy, he is greeted by biting cold winds, flurried raindrops sprinkling his skin. he grunts, pulling his hood over his head so that his curls get pushed into his eyes, and he's going to lose his temper, because that class went so poorly, and now he has to walk home, and he just can't-

"awk, you look like a little puppy dog!"

he spins, very nearly slipping in the process.

you grin, giving him the smallest wave with just the tips of your fingers, the rest of your hand hidden beneath the sleeves of your coat. the minute he sees you, his face lights up, an expression he can't help. you just bring it out of him, this delight.

"what are you doing here?" he asks. "it's freezing!"

you loop your arm through his, guiding the way to the empty street. "i had nothing else to do, so i thought i'd walk you home."

"you're not walking me home. i'm walking you home."

you frown. "not fair."

"that's how this works, i'm afraid. get used to it."

you roll your eyes, letting coriolanus guide you in the direction of your home. it's a route he has unwillingly memorized, a route he has come to enjoy over any other. upon it, there are beautiful green trees slotted between the glass skyscrapers, statues erected tall, the smell of baked goods wafting from the countless bakeries dotted along the path. above all, however, is the you-ness of it. the view and the vibe is all well and good, but what coriolanus enjoys most is the smile it brings to your face, the way you have to halt every now and then to truly appreciate your surroundings.

this evening is no different, and coriolanus is enamored. he doesn't even realise he's staring, smiling until you pause and say, "what's that face for?"

coriolanus doesn't hide his smile, merely shakes his head and replies, "nothing. absolutely nothing."

you raise a brow, but let the subject drop. "you're strange, you know."

"am i?"

"yeah. you're too. . . mysterious, but not really."

coriolanus huffs out a laugh. "i'm going to need an explanation."

"well, let's put it this way." you loop your arm through his, as if to really get your point across. "as cheesy as it may sound, i feel like i know you pretty well. i know you're an absolute fiend for a nice bar of chocolate, that you have some strange obsession with roses-"

"it's not an obsession-"

you slap his arm. "i know you're a high achiever, whether you want to admit it or not. i also know you have a protective streak, which makes you very, very sweet in my eyes."

despite himself, coriolanus blishes; he's been called many things throughout his life, but hardly ever 'sweet.' it's possible that is a purposeful thing, him always playing the tough guy act, the legendary scholar in any attempt to protect the secrets he has held for so long.

"but," you continue, and coriolanus raises a brow. "i know all that stuff, yet i don't even know how many people are in your family. are you close? what was your childhood like?"

coriolanus's heart thuds. that smile he seems to permanently adorn when in your presence slips as the panic starts to set in. "the answers to those questions don't mean anything."

you frown. "you don't think so?"

"i just don't believe they add anything to our relationship. it's all pointless information."

your frows furrow, and coriolanus knows he's digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. he doesn't understand the fight or flight response flooding his system, but it's there, is always there when anyone starts prodding into his personal life.

he's never felt guilty about his secrets before, but you're different.

"look," he says, "let's not get caught up in all that. we need to get you home before it gets too dark, and then i'll be forced to sleep on your front porch."

to his relief, you smile, eyes crinkling at the edges in that way he loves so much. "there it is. that protective streak."

"i believe it's called being a gentleman."

"oh, whatever."

and so, coriolanus walks you home, treading carefully around anything that could trigger a conversation about his home life. it's easy enough to avoid as you get lost in talking about the plant life surrounding you, so all coriolanus has to do is listen. he loves when you get like this - animated, human in a way the capitol doesn't recognise. it's a breath of fresh air. you're a breath of fresh air.

and maybe it's this realisation that convinces cirolanus to hover at your door for a little while longer. you turn to say goodbye, hands clasped in front of you, that tentative yet somehow confident smile playing at your lips.

you glance at his face, and immediately your entire demeanour shifts. his intentions - his desires - must be written all across his expression, but he doesn't even care right now. his heart is beating a hundred miles a minute, which can mean only one thing for him.

"cor. . ." you croak, sounding almost uncertain, but you don't move when he takes a step towards you. instead you let him take your hand and draw you close, so cose that the tips of your shoes touch his.

"cor," you repeat, clearer this time. "i don't want you to do anything you'll regret."

he nearly laughs. "i'll only regret it if you want me to stop."

a huff of air escapes you. "no."

"no?"

"no, i won't ask you to stop."

those words send a shiver down his spine, and before the nerves can get the better of him, he draws you closer and presses his lips to yours.

it is like fire, andd melting, and gasping for air all at the same time. he questions what he's doing even as he can't bring himself to stop, hands trailing down your sides to grab and pull your hips against his. you gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the noise, lets it drive him.

"cor," you gasp. "are you sure?"

"i'm certain," he replies, trailing his lips down your neck, a move he has never done before, but it feels right in this moment.

you cling to his shoulders. "i'm - i'm district."

he pauses, wondering if he even heard you right, because why would you say that? "i know."

you slowly straighten up, increasing the distance between you and him. "just think about this. you're a very big-shot name in the capitol. my name is barely scraping by without being buried in the dirt. most people think i'm radioactive or something."

"that's not-"

"you don't have to lie, cor. i'm not oblivious. sure, it got better when you took me under your wing, but i don't think that protection stretches as far as. . . this." you gesture between the two of you, a sheepish expression on your face that makes coriolanus angrier than he cares to admit. here he is, opening himself up to you, and you're shooting him down because of the rancid opinions of other people.

he runs a hand down the side of his face, tucking his tongue into his cheek. "okay. i didn't think that mattered."

"of course it matters. this is your name on the line, your legacy."

"there is no legacy."

you scoff, infuriating coriolanus even more.

"what?" he demands, and he doesn't mean to raise his voice, but he can't help it.

"everyone knows the snow name," you say. "as pure as snow is white, capitol through and through. that's what makes you so respected around here."

coriolanus nearly laughs; if only you knew. and maybe that's why the conversation irritates him so much - you don't know. just like everyone else, you hear his surname and assume he has no problems, that he's always had everything he's always wanted. it would never occur to you that maybe coriolanus has no food in the tiny fridge at home, that his cousin is working two insufferable jobs so he can go to school and give their family a chance. you don't know, so you assume, and that makes you just like everyone else.

coriolanus swallows and looks to the floor. "so because i'm a snow, i can't kiss who i want?"

you pause, as if the weight of your comments have finally dawned on you. "no. it's just. . . for your sake, i want you to think-"

"i have been thinking," he bursts, the anger and frustration bubbling over before he can stop it. "i've been thinking a lot, and you're right. my legacy will be ripped to shreds if i'm caught interacting with district scum like you."

the words are a bomb. for a moment, all coriolanus can hear is whistling, the rest of the world silent, as if waiting with bated breath. you stare at him, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. sometimes soriolanus forgets that you've never seen this side to him, that you're one of the only people he lets himself be calm around.

but the damage has been done, and coriolanus recognises that the second the words are out.

you open your mouth to say something, but the silence stretches on. all you can manage is a miniscule nod, a dismissive hand wave before you turn on your heel and walk away.

desperately coriolanus wants to go after you, but he's frozen. he's shocked, shocked that he slipped so badly, that he even had the ability to hurt you at all. so he swipes a hand over his face, turns and starts the shameful trek home.

----

he tries getting you to speak to him, but nothing works.

he doesn't deserve your attention. he understands that, and he usually isn't one to chase a lost cause, but this is different. it's like he can't help himself. everytime he sees you walking through the halls, he tries to meet your eyes, tries to get you to notice him, but it doesn't work. you duck your head down and scurry away, like he's radioactive.

"what's wrong with you?"

tigris flicks his ear, startling him from whatever thoughts have sucked him into a daze this time.

he twists, slapping her hand away with a scowl. "nothing. go away."

"go away," she mimics in a high pitched, ridiculous voice. "honestly coryo, what age are we?" she sits down, folding one knee over the other and leaning close so their grandma'am can't hear. "you can talk to me. you know that."

"i've got nothing to talk about."

"that's a lie. you've been moping around this house for the past two weeks; sejanus rang and asked if you were alright because you haven't been coming down to the after school club. nothing keeps you away from the after school club."

coriolanus rolls his eyes, because that's all he can do when his cousin is making fairly good points against his argument. all of it is true, of course - he has just been moping around, because he doesn't want to do anything besides talk to you, and if he can't do that, then he's going to spend his time moping around.

he messes with the frayed fabric of his dressing gown sleeve. "i don't want you worrying about me, tigris. things are tough enough on you as it is."

tigris's chocolate eyes soften. "don't be ridiculous." she grabs his hands, tugs them into her lap. "you're my family, corio. some of the only family i have left. if i don't have you, i don't have anything, so i need you to be okay. i need you to talk to me."

he closes his eyes; those are the exact words he said to her when she was struggling only a few months before, words that once felt so true it seemed ridiculous he had to remind her of them.

he inhales shakily. "am i a bad person?"

tigris reels back. "what? no. of course not. what makes you think that?"

"just. . . my behaviour. the things i do sometimes to make myself seem. . . in control, i guess."

"like what?"

coriolanus purses his lips and doesn't reply. tigris stares at his side profile, calculating whatever it is she feels the need to calculate before she slowly leans back on her stool and says, "oh."

coriolanus closes his eyes. "don't."

"this is about y/n, isn't it?"

"how did you-"

"what happened?"

coriolanus tips his head back. "why do women always have to have the details of relationship gossip?"

tigris nearly leaps from her chair. "relationship? oh, coryo!" she grabs his hands again, pulling him close to her. "when did this happen?"

"nothing happened," coriolanus confirms. "well, nothing. . . nothing that matters anyway. we kissed."

tigris squeals, all intentions of not notifying the grandma'am forgotten to her excitement. "coryo! and you didn't think to tell me?"

"why would i tell you? i just said it doesn't matter."

"of course it matters. you haven't kissed anyone in years!"

"i've been busy-"

"you're eighteen! these are the kinds of conversations you should be having with me, not updating me on how your portfolio is coming along, or what grade you got in your last class." she leans back again, smirking. "what happened then? give me all the details."

"what happened was i lost my temper and they ran off. that's what happened."

tigris's face falls; in her excitement, she must have forgotten that coriolanus isn't quite as excited about this entire situation as she is. he tilts his head to the floor, unable to look her in the eyes right now; he wants to be alone, and yes, he has been alone the past two weeks, but he needs more time to mope, more time to figure out how in the hell he can make this right again, because not having you here is killing him, and he can't-

"oh, corio."

tigris tugs him into a hug that he does not fight against. his head falls against her shoulder, hands limp by his sides, but she doesn't let go. she strokes her fingers through his blonde hair, slowly swaying back and forth in the same way she used to do when they were kids and his nightmares would get too bad.

"what did you say to them?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper, like she's afraid of startling him if she talks too loudly.

"i called them district scum."

tigris's chest pauses for a moment as she processes the words. "why would you do that?"

he pulls away, squeezes his eyes shut. "i don't know, tigris, that's what i'm trying to figure out. that's why i'm asking if i'm a bad person or not. there was no reason for it! i just. . . got so annoyed."

"why?"

and so coriolanus tells her the whole story from start to finish, letting it push through those barriers of shame and embarrassment, because that's where he's had them kept the past two weeks. even as he recalls the details, his face heats up with self-hatred, remembering how angry he got over nothing, remembering the way your face dropped, the way your lower lip wobbled just the tiniest bit before you walked away. it's these little details that have kept him up at night, these little details that have broken his heart so much he can't even face his friends.

tigris listens with a deadpan expression. when coriolanus finishes talking, she stares as if waiting for more, but there is no more to give, not unless she wants him to spontaneously combust right in front of her.

"so there you go," he mumbles. "i'm a dick."

"well, that goes without saying," tigris replies. "and y/n hasn't spoken to you since then?"

"y/n has barely looked at me since then."

tigris is silent for a moment. and then, "you were raised better than that, coriolanus."

he closes his eyes, bites his lower lip. "i know."

"and you're smarter than this." tigris leans forward, taps his knee to get his attention. "you know what the right thing to do now is, don't you?"

he looks at her, tilts his head.

tigris rolls her eyes. "you need to apologise. you need to go over there and tell them exactly what you just told me. if i can see how guilty you feel, they definitely will." tigris takes a hold of his hands. "do you trust me?"

coriolanus nods immediately, because of course he does.

"then trust that i'm not setting you up for failure right now. you need to go over to y/n's house and make sure they listen to you. if they accept your apology, great. if not, that's completely understandable - you walk away and leave them alone. but until you've explained your side of things, this story isn't over."

----

coriolanus can't think straight.

he's arrived at your door with no plan in mind, which really isn't like him. he prides himself on organisation, on knowing exactly what points he wants to make before he's even stepped foot in the room.

but this time, he has no clue what he's actually doing.

his head hurts, but he continues to replay the words tigris said to him on a loop. she's right, of course. he needs to get his point across, needs to explain himself so you understand why he did what he did, why he is the way he is, why you'd probably be better off with someone other than him, but please don't be better off-

"coriolanus, go home."

your voice comes from the speaker drilled into the pillar he's leaning against. he flinches back, nearly stumbling over his feet in the process.

he glances around warily, narrowing his eyes at nothing.

"go home, coriolanus," you repeat. "i don't want to talk to you."

"y/n," he says, because your name has been the only thing he's been able to think about lately. "y/n, please. this is ridiculous. we're two adults."

"what does that have to do with anything?"

"we should communicate. work stuff out."

you scoff, and it's that noise that boils coriolanus's blood, the noise that set him off the last time. even now he has to bite his bottom lip to stop some snarky remark from rising to the surface, something that will only make this entire situation worse.

"there's nothing to work out. i don't want to see you. in fact, i don't want to hear from you ever again; that's all."

he curls his fingers, nipping nails into his palms. "i want to explain my side of things."

a moment of silence. finally, the buzzer goes off and the golden gates swing open.

"you have five minutes."

coriolanus doesn't waste a second. he makes the trek up to your front door, delighted to see you already standing in the doorway dressed in a fluffy green dressing gown, arms folded over your chest. you scowl at him, but coriolanus can't hold back his smile, his pure pleasure at just seeing you in the flesh, your eyes meeting his after so many weeks of you avoiding him completely. he tries to ignore the red rims around those eyes, too scared to admit he may be the reason behind them.

"y/n," he says again.

"coriolanus."

"thank you for meeting with me."

you roll your eyes. "this isn't a meeting, cor. you're going to say what you have to say, and then you're going to leave me alone." you glance down at your bare wrist. "did i mention you have five minutes?"

he hollows out his cheeks, trying to think of the best place to start. he has so much to say, so much to explain that it's nearly impossible to organise it into one coherent speech, but he has to try. he has to get this right.

"okay," he begins, voice already shaky. "first of all, i think it's important that you understand how terribly sorry i am for what i said. i just. . . i lost my temper. i felt rejected and embarrassed, and i took it out on you. it was wrong. it was childish. it was uncalled for, and i'm sorry."

okay, apology out of the way.

"i've never felt this way about anyone," he continues. "i wanted so badly for it to work between us, but then you said all that stuff about my legacy and the snow name and i just. . . i don't know, y/n. i just panicked and let my temper get the better of me. i've never known how to handle my emotions any differently."

you stare at him, but he doesn't know what else to say. he's given you his truth, far more than anyone else in his life has ever received. all he can do now is hope you accept it, hope you can see just how genuine he is being.

after a moment, you look away, swipe your tongue across your lower lip, and coriolanus doesn't know if this is a good thing or not. he's never seen you look so. . . unbothered, almost, and that's what gets to him. you've always been so full of emotion, so ready for anything, yet right now you're staring at him like there's nothing left for you to give, like you've given up.

he swallows thickly. "please say something."

"i don't know what you want me to say, cor," you croak. "you called me district scum. do you know how hard that is to hear? my home - my district - was destroyed. my family and friends were wiped out in seconds. i would take being district scum over that any day, but here i am, trying to make ends meet, and trying to fit in with your. . . your type, and you just throw it back in my face like that."

he closes his eyes. "y/n. . ."

"because it's so easy for you," you continue, voice rising. "you can hurt other people's feelings as much as you want and face no consequences, because you're a snow."

his eyes snap open, that fury he struggles to control rising to the surface. "i've just told you-"

"it doesn't matter what you tell me. you've showed me how that surname protects you. you looked me in the eye, called me district scum, and now you're here, expecting me to forgive you just because."

"that's not how i wanted it to come across."

"but that's how it is."

"why are you just assuming? is it not possible for you to believe that my apology is sincere?"

you shrug, crossing your arms over your chest. "whether it is or it isn't, i don't accept it." you glance at your bare wrist again, the action making coriolanus's heart shatter. "your five minutes is up."

and with that, you step back into your house and shut the door, leaving coriolanus alone on your doorstep.

----

"how could they just do that to you?" sejanus asks, shaking his head as if in disgust. "you apologised!"

coriolanus shrugs, taking a sip of the too-strong coffee sejanus was kind enough to buy him, no questions asked. "it was humiliating."

"and you two had already kissed before this?"

"yep."

sejanus inhales sharply, tries hiding it by sipping from his own coffee mug. "that's tough."

"it is tough," morales says, sitting on sejanus's left with three plates worth of food stacked beside him. "but it just comes to show that the districts don't know what they're missing. in my opinion, y/n's made a big mistake not accepting your apology; it just means they're going to have to grapple for some respect for even longer, if they can even gain respect on their own."

coriolanus's stomach twists, but he says nothing. these are the kinds of comments he's been quietly listening to for the past two weeks, unable to respond lest his friends think he's let you won.

after the rejection, coriolanus knew he needed to get back to the way things were. he continued trying to get your attention, but in a much more subtle way, never letting his capitol friends see his eagerness, his excitement whenever you walked in a room. however, the hardest part of it all is trying not to show his anger when they make comments like this, comments they expect him to agree with because he is just like them, has always been just like them.

sejanus does the arguing for him, which he appreciates.

"don't be so small minded," sejanus snaps. "you forget i'm district, too."

"hardly," morales scoffs. "your family has always had the capitols back. y/n on the other hand. . ."

coriolanus curls his fingers beneath the table. "can we talk about something else? this really is a pointless conversation."

"i agree," sejanus quips. "i find talking to ignorant people quite unproductive."

"oh for-"

"did you just call me ignorant?"

morales stands, chair scraping against the tiled floor. coriolanus sighs, dipping his head into his hands as sejanus rises to meet morales face-to-face. around them, the dining room grows quiet, all heads turning in their direction; coriolanus scans the area for a quick, subtle get away, but comes up short.

he's going to have to step in.

slowly he stands, places a hand on sejanus's chest. "calm down, boys."

"no way; this little bastard thinks he can say whatever he wants just because he's different. well, i've had enough, and i'm not putting up with it any more!" morales exclaims.

coriolanus nearly laughs, but manages to hold it in. morales was born to very, very rich and protected parents, very high up in the capitol. his family spent their time in a bunker during the war, probably don't know the extents of what happened above ground to this day. imagining morales trying to fight a man like sejanus is almost impossible.

"yes, i'm sure you'll put him right in his place," coriolanus drawls. "but time and place, men, time and place. let's leave this little tiff for later, alright?"

morales meets his eyes, fury still building behind his dark irises. coriolanus merely raises a brow, and a moment later, morales has grumbled some obscenities beneath his breath, swatted a cup off the table, and stormed out.

the dining room erupts back into it's usual chatter, and coriolanus sits down to finish his coffee.

sejanus sighs, sitting next to him. "there it is. the coriolanus we all know and love."

"that entire argument was pointless," coriolanus grumbles. "i wish you two would have a bit more common sense than to start a scene in the middle of the dining room."

"i wasn't going to do anything," sejanus replies. "i knew you would step in eventually."

coriolanus rolls his eyes, but can't help the tiny smile that arises. at least that was a moment of normalcy, a moment where he could present his best self without feeling like a fraud.

sejanus nudges him. "i think you impressed some people, too."

he turns towards where sejanus is motioning, and his heart flips at the sight of you staring right at him. you don't even look away when your eyes meet his, though you make no move towards him, either. coriolanus offers the tiniest smile, a test of the waters, but you simply purse your lips and go back to the conversation taking place at your table.

still, it's something. a taste of interaction coriolanus hasn't been granted in weeks.

"be honest with me, coryo."

coriolanus forces himself to look at sejanus, to take his eyes off you for a moment. "hm?"

"are you still trying to make things work with y/n?"

coriolanus freezes. if anyone else had asked him that question, he would immediately put on the mask, laugh, call them ridiculous for thinking he would waste his time with something such as romance. but this is sejanus, the man who is a little bit smarter than the rest of his friends, a little bit more grounded, a little bit more present. chances are, he's been watching coriolanus closely, picking up on all the subtle marks coriolanus has been trying desperately to hide the past few weeks. would lying even be worth it?

it doesn't matter. sejanus takes his momentary silence as answer enough, tilts his head with a tiny smile.

"i thought so."

coriolanus folds his arms upon the table, deflating. "you think it's ridiculous."

"i think it's romantic," sejanus corrects. "it's been a long time since i've seen you pursue something. . . worthwhile."

coriolanus scoffs. "my education hardly isn't worthwhile. i have a future to still work towards."

"and do you want that future to include y/n?"

"yes. of course."

he says it so quickly, because of course. from the day he met you, no part of him ever wanted to be away from you, even on the worst days. it was a comfortable feeling, like slipping under warm covers after a long day in the cold. it wasn't a question, never something to be debated. from day one, you slotted into his idea of a future so perfectly, it was as if he knew you from birth.

and it's that realisation that makes him look over at you again. you've still got your head down, scribbling furiously in that little notebook that is always bulging out of your blazer pocket. he never asked what you write in it, but now he wonders if it's your thoughts and feelings, how many times his name appears, if you'll ever let him have a look.

but he'll never know, not if he doesn't put the effort in now, not if he continues letting everything else get in the way.

he looks to sejanus and receives only the tiniest smile, but it's all the encouragement coriolanus needs. without another word, he stands up and heads in your direction.

the minute you look up and see him walking towards you, your face drops. it breaks coriolanus's heart, but he keeps advancing, this new-found desperation driving him. you stand and make for the exit, prompting him to shout your name before making haste to catch up to you.

with the two of you in the near empty corridors, coriolanus has a chance to get your attention properly. he quickens just enough to grab your wrist and whirl you around to look at him, and it's then that he spots the tears trailing down your cheeks, then that his whole world seems to crumble around him. are those tears because of him? has he upset you even more, or do you miss him in the same treacherous way he misses you?

there is a brief moment of silence where he can do nothing but stare at you. you stare right back, which he supposes is a good sign, even if your eyes are filled with tears, and your hands are trembling, and you are yet to say a word. you're not running away. you're not cursing his name and leaving him to wallow in rejection again.

finally, he breaks the silence. "y/n."

your name. always just your name, like his brain can't come up with anything else to start a conversation.

your lower lip trembles. "what do you want, coriolanus?"

"you know what i want." he steps forward, fingertips brushing yours. "i miss you."

you close your eyes, releasing a shaky breath. "please don't say that."

"but i mean it," he presses. "i miss you, y/n l/n, district or not. i don't give a shit about my name, or what you will do to my legacy. i want you to understand me how i want to understand you."

"there's nothing to understand-"

"that's where you're wrong. that's where you've been wrong this entire time." he runs a hand through his blonde curls, trying to stay as calm as possible. he doesn't want to get ahead of himself, doesn't want to ruin yet another opportunity to make this right.

"it's partly my fault," he continues. "i never told you the truth about where i'm from, how my life has panned out since my father passed away. i kept the mask up with you like how i've done with everyone else, but i want that to change. i want to. . . i want you to understand me, y/n."

again, your lower lip trembles, and coriolanus can't help but reach out and brush a fingertip across your chin. your breath falters at the touch, making him realise this is the first time he's touched you like this in . . . forever. he's kissed your lips and held your hand, but not once has he ever allowed himself to be so careful, so meaningful with his touches.

not until now. not until you showed you're capable of breaking, that you need a delicate touch every now and then, too.

"i don't want to be stupid here, cor," you whisper. "all i have here is my dignity. i can't throw that away by forgiving the person who hurt me so badly."

coriolanus shakes his head, eyes drifting closed against his will. "i know i hurt you. i thought about it every day, beat myself up about it, asked myself why i am the way that i am." he inhales. "the way that i was, because this whole ordeal. . . nearly losing you . . . it's changed me, y/n. it's made me realise what's important, and it isn't my reputation, or my legacy, or impressing the right people." he opens his eyes, meets your own. "it's you. you're what's important."

your tears well up yet again, a fresh wave to accompany the ones that haven't even dried on your cheeks yet. coriolanus's chest squeezes, and it takes every fiber of his being not to draw you close to him, to hold you in the way he always so desperately craves. he doesn't know if that is allowed yet, if his words weigh enough for you to trust him like that again.

so he waits for the signal. he lets you take the reigns, watching your every move as you ponder on what he has just said, your own position in this situation. he listens to the hustle and bustle of the students now rushing from their classrooms as the bell for lunch sounds overhead, but coriolanus can barely hear it over the sound of his own heartbeat.

and then you take a step closer to him, a tentative one, prey approaching predator. slowly, you lift your hands and readjust the wonky top button on his dress shirt, and for a second, coriolanus panics that you may recognise it isn't made of one hundred percent silk, that it isn't brand new and freshly pressed by the best designers to grace the capitol.

but then you tug him closer, and he forgets everything.

your lips meet his, so different to the kiss from before. this one is slow, uncertain almost, but a promise that there will be a next time. he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer and closer, if that is even possible. your own hands wind around his neck, as if afraid he's going to leave again.

never. never again. he promises that much to any higher being who will listen. this right here is all he needs to feel alive and normal, and when alive and normal is all he's ever wanted, why would he throw it away?

you pull away when it becomes clear that coriolanus has no intention of being the one to do so. a small smile graces your perfect lips, forehead dipped against his own. when you speak, your voice is breathless, tired, a whisper that sends a shiver down his spine.

"let's try this again."

he laughs, pecking your lips one last time. "take two."

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, I am begging you here, pls tell me that Ikkaku and Yumichika are still bffs on this AU. I need the violent miss- and yet perfectly matched bastards to still be forever ride-and-die with each other.

Also, all the dropped tidbits relating to Yumichika are gold and I am hoarding them like a squirrel hoards his nuts for winter.

They are actually, for real, legally married.

Ikkaku was 500% ready to fight the entire Gotei-13 when he took the 628-year old marriage certificate he and Yumichika had gotten in 72 North to the Seireitei Records Office to be honored.

Instead, the sole hiccup in the process was the young lady behind the counter asking him to spell Yumichika's surname for her as this document seems to have been... stained, at some point.

"-That's not... Blood, is it?" She asks, concerned.

"Uh. It's actually. Um. Soy Sauce." Ikkaku mumbles.

It would have been less embarrassing if it had been blood.

Turns out, Gay marriage- and indeed, divorce, or changing your name, or gender, or becoming the third, fourth or seventeenth parent/legal guardian to a kid is a nonissue in soul society, because someone complained *once* and Yamamoto declared that, one, he didn't care, and two, the rest of the military commanders were hired off death row, and *this* is what you're complaining about? Fuck off.

But here are some Yumichika Fun Facts:

Everyone in the 11th division has really, really good personal hygiene and well-cared for hands, feet and nails because Yumichika's mother was a doctor at a rural hospital and put the fear of dysentery, cholera, pneumonia, tetanus, sepsis, trench rot and necrosis into him even more than fear of the gods, and he very much continued this sanitary evangelism.

Yumichika's other mother was a drag queen at the brothel that adjoined the hospital and taught him all about hair, makeup, poisons, manners, alley fights, how to play the shamisen, how to make a knife out of anything, flower arrangement and how to curse the hell out of a motherfucker of it comes to that.

Kubo was wrong Yumichika looks out for all his sisters not just his cis-ters.

Kenpachi was friends with Yumichika before either of the ever knew Ikkaku. He met Yumichika shortly after adopting Yachiru when Yumichika saved him from drowning in the river that ran through his home village.

Kenpachi asked Yumichika what he could do in gratitude for saving his life, and Yumichika, seeing his sword, asked if Kenpachi could "give him a real fight, for once"

They had a jolly little scrap that left Yumichika in the hospital for three months, an almost insatiable lust for battle, and a permanent bald scar on the edge of his eyebrow, which is where he glues the decorative feathers he wears.

It also got him (lovingly) told to move out and make his way in the world.

Yumichika met Ikkaku some years after that, when the theater/brothel he was working at hired Ikkaku on as an Emcee and a comedy act in his own right.

Ikkaku loves making people laugh and is damn good at it.

Yumichika was already considering making a move on him when a heckler pulled a sword on Yumichika during his act and Ikkaku beat the shit out of him with a chair without a second thought, and Yumichika decided he was going to seduce and marry this bald little maniac then and there.

It still took the better part of six months, because Ikkaku was convinced that Yumichika was "Way out of his league" and "He's just being friendly to a coworker!".

Things finally became clear when, having reached a boiling point of sexual frustration, Yumichika challenged Ikkaku to a duel, beat the hell out of Ikkaku with Kujaku, and screamed his feelings directly into Ikkaku's face.

"Oh." Said Ikkaku. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I'VE BEEN SAYING THINGS AND SHOWING YOU THINGS AND SITTING IN YOUR LAP AND KISSING YOU FOR SIX MONTHS YOU FUCKING MORON."

"...I may be stupid."

"At least you're also cute. C'mere you sexy cueball."

-and they have been blissfully if dramatically wedded since.

It was many years after that that they had moved on to a different brothel as a duo floor show act, when they got to talking to some of the other working girls about their travels and Yumichika tells the story of how he got his eyebrow scar saving a real freak of a guy from drowning after he got stabbed by a river stingray, but then he challenged him to a fight because- well, he was young and cocky and a small fish, but in a tiny pond- and promptly got his ass beat.

"That's wild!" Says Ikkaku. "I also challenged a random freak with a stingray scar on his leg to a fight because I was bored and- all due respect to you and Kujaku, my beloved - but he gave me a thrashing the likes of which I'd never had before or since. He had his daughter with him was the weird part- he was a real big bastard, face like a cliff, but his girl was this adorable little pink thing."

Yumichika sits up, frowning. "-seven feet tall in socks, big vertical scar on the right side of his face?" He asked, gesturing to his own.

Ikkaku put his drink down and pointed at Yumichika "-and bells in his hair! You fought Zaraki Kenpachi too??"

"Yes! What the hell?" Yumichika laughed. "I wonder where he is now..."

"Oh Gods, he had the WORST sense of direction! He's probably managed to walk in and back out of the Soul King's palace on accident!" Ikkaku giggled

"Well, if he's the same seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and pink little girl on his shoulder as the seven foot tall sword bastard with the scarred face and the pink little girl on his shoulder standing out in the street looking lost as hell, you can go ask him." Said their coworker Sachiko, pointing to the giant standing not a dozen feet away.

"Look Ken-chan! It's YuYu and Baldy!" Yachiru giggled.

"Yachiru!" Yumichika gasped, delighted.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!" bellowed Ikkaku.

"YOU AGAIN!" Zaraki bellowed, ecstatic. " BEEN A FEW YEARS, LET'S SEE HOW MUCH YOU LEARNED!!"

Ten minutes of incredible violence, twelve minutes of evading the police and twenty-one minutes of getting lost on the way back to the brothel, a bloodied but still standing Yumichika was explaining to the Madame that the giant bastard carrying the unconscious half of her prized floor show duo behind him was, in fact, an old friend of theirs whom she should absolutely hire as a bouncer, you can see how effective he is!

Madame Tsubaki, who recognizes incredible spiritual power and fighting potential when she sees it, and who is still very petty about the divorce from her husband the Shinigami Captain-General, allows herself to be persuaded.

[sun-stricken]

Headcannons about sick!gray? Mine is that ice mages get sick really easily but he’s just great at hiding it until Lyon mentions it or something and suddenly the guild freaks out at a sniffle

Also don’t know if it’s any interest to you, but sometimes when I’m making fiction in my head I imagine gray is actually sick. Like when he does wear clothes they’re always tight around the middle, right? So what if being under all the rubble did something to his lungs/chest and so he needs the support sometimes

edit from like two hours after i responded, you asked me for my personal headcanons, but all i did was play on yours, so sorry 🙁

omg tysm for the ask, i love this

i agree that ice mages get sick easier than other mages, but also any mage whos magic effects their temperature fluctuation, (i might make a full post abt that later)

also i am dramatic and love to ramble, sorry if its too long!!

Gray is good at handling things himself, hes been taking care of himself for over a decade, itd be weird if he wasn’t

He takes care of others, looks after his guild-mates, maybe to pay off some sort of debt, or maybe because they dont take care of themselves (what a hypocrite)

he takes care of them, he doesn’t expect them to take on roles for him, didn’t expect them to take care of him; he did perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much

-Fairy Tail disagrees-

The moment Lyon started telling them horror stories about how often and how intense Gray got sick while learning magic, all hell broke loose, specifically, his team broke loose

Erza started grilling Lyon, how did he get sick, how often on average, why is it so easy, how did they help him as a kid, what do you mean he couldnt breathe? HISBODYCOULDNTWHAT???

(it felt all too familiar to a criminal interrogation)

Lucy fretted over Gray, eyes panicking trying to search for an illness that wasnt yet there, asking if he felt ill now, does he need water? should he sit down? why is he so red?

(why does she look so scared?)

Happy all but launched himself into Grays chest, crying about why he didnt tell them and other nonsensicals he could fully make out

Wendy popping in to say that while she cant heal illnesses she can help him any way she can, and maybe she cried just a little abt how she couldn’t help him fully

(a kid shouldnt be so stressed about not being able to help fix a problem that they didn’t make)

Natsu, now Natsu was pissed. Hes no stranger to being reckless and he knows it, but this wasn’t him, this was Gray; Gray who had always helped him through sicknesses and injuries, some of which the guild didnt even know of. why didnt he trust them to help him? why didnt he ever tell them anything? why didnt he figure it out?

it hurt. it really did.

(why isnt he trying to fight him? why isnt he yelling?

Gray stood there, red in the face and truly embarrassed, he didnt think it was that big of a deal and here they were, here was his guild, his family. vowing to take care of him from here on out.

He doesnt think hes ever felt so embarrassed, and guilty, and so loved all at once

also a foreboding, hes not sure why though

as it turns out, he was right to be cautious

days later he had a cold, a measly cold, he sniffled maybe once or twice, and he might’ve stumbled just a little, and all of a suddenly he was next to the guild fireplace, covered in too many blankets, a thermos in hand, and people constantly insisting on getting him things

he knew he shouldn’t have come today

although, they had every right to be worried, as it very quickly turned into pneumonia. lucky him

He was taken to the guild infirmary, his team right there with him

even through the chills, the too short and too fast breathing, the obnoxious heat in his whole body, and the ever so slight delirium creeping into his thoughts

he felt the hand atop his, felt the heavy weight of sharp eyes that miss nothing on him;

he felt the purring mini oven tucked into his side;

he felt a hand usually covered in armor carding through his hair, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth;

he felt the way a trembling hand gripped his no longer free hand, felt the telltale sign of whisperers against his fingers;

he felt the minuscule vibrations of scrambling around him, heard the clinking of glass bottles no doubt full of remedies

…

he felt, loved.

THID IS SO LONG IM SORRY BUT IM SO OVERDRAMATIC AND LOVE TO RAMBLE

NOW FOR THE SECOND PART THAT I LOVE SO MUCH!

being under that collapsed building fucking with his lungs and ribs isnt something i ever thought of!

thats genius, i love it

im just imagining permanent damage to his lungs, not being able to use them to their full capacity, and maybe chronic pain in his ribcage area and sharp pains when he tries to draw in deep breaths

i think Makarov obvs knew this (maybe he makes everyone has full check ups yearly or every couple years, but also everytime someone joins the guild)

he warned Gray against overexerting himself because it could be especially dangerous for him

he was prescribed an inhaler and medication for his breathing and pain

but this was and is a boy full of too much pride and guilt, maybe he thinks he deserves it, maybe just doesnt care what happens to him, maybe he simply doesnt know his limits; but for whatever reason he doesnt listen, doesnt use his support unless it is absolutely unbearable

of course it gets better over the years, but that didnt start willingly, the guild found out, maybe Gray let it slip, maybe Jii-Chan did, or maybe they heard him scolding Gray for overdoing it again

but they found out and would check up on him, give him advice from some of their experience with their own disabilities

Ive hced for a while that Gildarts was particularly fatherly (or like, a protective uncle…ly?) with the kids of Fairy Tail, so i think he wouldve been the one to get him this pressure support thing for his ribs

it worked, and so does heating pads/packs, which lead to the next development

and after Gray joined up with his team and got closer, he would make Natsu be his own personal heat pack bc that is such a sweet and silly image to me

Natsu surprisingly complained minimally

i wonder why? :)

more little sick things

Gray doesnt get hungover, probably the only illness he gets lucky on

he gets really talkative and delirious when hes sick, and clingy

he’ll ramble abt random things he has to do, not realizing he cant for obvious reasons

he’ll talk about life before Ur, about his siblings who never had the chance to live; about ppl who left Isvan before Deloria came, wondering if theyre alive and actually living, if they remember him

whoever’s with him does him the courtesy of not bringing it up when hes better

Lucy gets really scared when people are sick, it makes her think of watching her mom deteriorate, she refuses to go through that again

She spoke to Natsu and Erza about this while Gray was sick once, broke down and said she wad terrified of losing someone she loves to a stupid sickness again

Gray will cling to the person closest to him when he’s ill, holding their hand, leaning on them, just not letting them leave; he finally is letting himself be taken care of and it feels good, he’ll be damned if he lets that go again

Natsu was so angry when Lyon told them, he was so angry and so scared that even with his heightened senses he didnt know anything at all

If hes with Gray when hes sick, he rarely takes his eyes off the uneven rise and fall of his best friends chest, as to reassure himself that Gray was still breathing, that he was still here and didn’t disappear

Gray will get up and try to get things done when hes sick, he is not the type to sit down and rest and recover

he had to be physically hauled back to bed on multiple occasions

Erza is lost when people are sick, ever the leader though, she tried to take the lead, giving people jobs and trying to make sure everything is order

it ends up quite the opposite though, halfway through she reluctantly hands the reins to someone else

she tries though

Gray has a box full of ‘get well soon!’ gifts and cards, he likes to look through then and read all the messages over and over again

i lied. he has three boxes, his friends are overachievers

fin.

[alaskan-wallflower]

i feel like we need to complete the trilogy hehe,, sick darry hcs? :,)

Ooh yes!

Okay so he doesn’t get sick very often. His insides are just as strong as his outsides

BUT when he does get sick it hits HARD

Like he thinks he needs to be hospitalized because it’s just that bad-he did have to be hospitalized as a kid because he had pneumonia and his brothers were terrified

Whenever he’s sick Pony and Soda get so scared because they think he’s gonna have to be hospitalized again and that scares them

Esoevially after their parents die

But I think it starts off light with like-he’s got a headache and his stomach hurts but it could be stress, right?

Two days later and it goes from headache and stomachache to “migraine and I can’t hold anything down”

Yet this motherfucker still tries to go to work even though he’s delirious as hell and Soda’s literally like-panicking and Pony starts crying because he’s an overthinker and thinks Darry will fall off a roof (even though if he goes to work like that he’d definitely fall off a roof)

Once he sees Soda holding back tears and Pony actively crying and panicking he relents and goes back to bed

He did sneak to work once and Soda/Pony didn’t speak to him for a week

They were so mad too like they actually yelled at him

He doesn’t sneak out after that

Pony freaks out while he’s at school though because he thinks Darry’s gonna sneak out again and he’s scared but he gets home and Two Bit is trying to feed him chocolate cake while Darry tells him to get the fuck away from him because the smell is making him sick

she cannot keep anything down. Like not even medicine

Unlike his brothers he doesn’t have a very vocal stomach, except when he’s sick and the sounds themselves make him feel even more nauseous

He’s not having a good time but he’s trying to put on a brave face

Soda insists on snuggling him even though Darry is sweating bullets and is on the verge of puking his guts up and he doesn’t want to get his brothers sick

They don’t care tho like

Two Bit and Dallas definitely have some dirt on his boss (they’re freaks like that) so they blackmail the man into giving Darry paid leave lmao

He likes herbal tea. I don’t have a basis for this, I just think he does

I kinda headcanon that he has acid reflux too from stress so that’s definitely not helping in the slightest

Pony tries to tell him to drink sparkling water so he can burp up some of the pressure and eventually he caves because everything hurts and he’ll trust Pony (Pony has a morbid curiosity with sickness)

Pony and Soda do everything around the house and even made Darry some dinner and even though he didn’t eat a lot he was grateful

When he’s better he definitely spoils his brothers with cuddles and prays they won’t get sick too lol