#most of colouring i did yesterday and today most of the time i was just very busy or just couldnt

[jestroer]

boys. BOYS. Not gonna lie, i created this canvas exactly two months ago and i am SO GLAD to say its finished. Now look at my convex boys in fancy clothes. They are finally here

[eggmeralda]

I ended up recording bits of songs and mixing them and now I've accidentally finished like 2 of them but shoutout to the winning result which I already did a few days ago unfortunately

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[caitlynskitten]

Okay but I’ve just had the most cursed idea

What if one day when Bianca and Wednesday are fencing, Wednesday is more aggressive. Bianca demands to know what she’s playing at, and Wednesday confesses she’s feeling a bit frustrated today. Bianca’s all like ‘well damn, Addams. Get yourself off or some shit, no need to kill me.’

Only to then realise, by Wednesday’s expression, that Wednesday doesn’t know what ‘get yourself off’ means. In fact, Wednesday doesn’t even know what masturbation is, leading to a very awkward but educational lesson from Bianca as she explains it.

Fast forward to the next day. It’s breakfast. Yoko, Divina and Bianca are all sat together when they hear a cheerful ‘hello guys.’ Thinking it’s Enid, they turn and are all terrified to see a beaming Wednesday. She’s wearing colours, her hair is in a different style. She’s really smiling.

She sits next to them and is all like ‘thank you for your help yesterday, B. Gee, who knew all that pent up frustration could make someone such a bitch, amirite?’

They don’t know how to answer. They’re still trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

Cue a frantic Enid storming in, running over to them all. Her hair is a mess, she looks terrified and she all but screams ‘WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?! WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS?! IS THIS WHAT IM LIKE?! WHERES MY HOT MURDERER GF?’

LMAOOO NOOOOO 😭😭😭😭 Wednesday just needed a good pleasure release this entire time and now she’s like a brand new person! Wednesday definitely masturbates every few months. And within that time frame she reverts back to her old angsty, edgy, heartless self. Until she gets off again and she becomes a an even happier Enid!

Oh my god I need to write more of this this is so fucking funny thank you for this

[aajjks]

Puppy. (JJK)

synopsis. Jungkook should feel bad, but all he feels is satisfaction.

pairing: yan!best friend jungkook x fem!popular girl reader.

warnings. YANDERE, how to ruin a relationship 101 tutorial by jungkook, sabotaging a relationship, infidelity, obsessive thoughts.

disclaimer: DO NOT ROMANTICISE THIS BEHAVIOUR, this is fiction, this is not a healthy relationship. Keep in mind that this is purely fictional n I do not condone this behaviour irl.

Jungkook tries to not get too jealous when he sees you laughing or hanging out with other people than him.

He is your best friend but he gets insecure, so much that he has to calm down his irregular breathing while he hides away in a corner, his doe eyes constantly looking at your laughing face.

You are the most gorgeous person ever.

It’s astonishing to him that how nervous you get him despite knowing you for years, it’s hard for him to not be nervous around you.

You are just so perfect to him, and he’s just pathetic.

Jeon Jungkook is absolutely obsessed with his best friend of nine years.

He inhaled a breath in, closed his eyes and stops chewing at the insides of his cheek. “Okay jungkook…. Go to her.” He instructs himself.

He looks back to you once more when he opens his eyes, and smiles while walking out of the corner, holding the backpack as he calls out your name.

“Y/N!!” You look in his direction and Jungkook feels his heart flutter in his chest, the girls standing along you stop talking or blabbing as he’d like to say.

“Oh look Y/N your puppy’s here!” One of the girl laughs and Jungkook feels his cheeks tighten.

He’d be annoyed but it wasn’t a lie. He was your puppy. He looks at you, his eyes fixated. “Girls….” You roll your eyes as you scold them in a gentle way.

Oh you were just so sweet.

“Hey kook! I think we have the same class today?” You move your lips so elegantly, his eyes follow the moment of your mouth, his own falls open but he licks his bottom lip.

“A-Ah yes! It’s calculus.”

“Cool. It’s almost time… God I hate- “I know you hate it Y/N…. Don’t worry I’ll help you!”

Your friend whispers ‘puppy’ but Jungkook really doesn’t mind. You close your lips and give him a kind smile.

Oh, he’s gonna explode!! You do things to his heart.

Before him and you can say anything? Jungkook sees a guy walking in your direction. His knuckles tighten.

Jungkook hates him!

“Babe!!!” You shriek.

Fuck him!

“Oh hey man!” Jungkook suddenly chimes in before he can hug you or get any more closer to you. “I saw you yesterday at the coffee shop? Did you like it there? It’s my favourite place!”

You furrow your brows as you glance at your boyfriend who’s expressions waver, his eyes filling with confusion and something else.

“A-Ah yea it was pretty good…” he stutters but Jungkook forces his smile.

“And the chocolate cake? Y/N did you like it?” Jungkook looks at you again, biting his lip to contain the smirk that threatens to spread all over his face.

“Umm what? What cake?” Your pretty E/C eyes fill with utter confusion.

oh here comes the best part!

“Oh? I saw you with Jaesung yesterday at the shop but I didn’t want to disturb so I left.”

“But I wasn’t there with him?”

“Umm I think he’s mistaken babe! I-I was alone?” Jaesung blinks,

your friends watch you with suspicious eyes and you look at jungkook with even more confusion.

“Oh? I saw a girl with same hair colour as Y/N…. You even kissed her across the table, but I could be wrong I guess?” Jungkook shrugs, playing innocent.

Your girls gasp. “Yeah we hung out together?”

Perfect!

“Anyways Y/N… the bell just r- NO SHUT UP JUNGKOOK. let me talk to Jae, FUCK CALCULUS!”

You seethed. Jungkook pretended to get embarrassed.

“N-No babe! H-He must be mistaken I’m telling you!”

“Okay then I’d better leave….”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for anyone’s reply, he hears you screaming and your boyfriend stuttering, he walks away.

It hurts him a lot to see you like this, but that asshole? Jungkook will make sure he regrets being born.

This is the least he deserves for being unfaithful to you. That guy doesn’t deserve you. If only you saw it coming.

But Jungkook will always be there for you, because he’s your best friend, and best friends are always there for you right?

And he is a loyal puppy, your puppy.

[lululandd]

content;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1177

warning: fluff, reader is into plants

notes: inspired by an instagram reel that @/myscprin sent (this fic is also on ao3)

summary: it started out with a stupid potted plant. 

Soap had drunkenly bought him one and would not stop whinging until he actually took it home. The man also had the audacity to ask him how the plant is doing, weeks after.

“Fine.” He lied. They were probably browning on his balcony, in a worse condition than he last saw them. It was funny; exciting even, to water the first couple days, having something easy to take care of, but then he saw signs of it not going to make it and subsequently avoided them entirely. Closed his blinds so he doesn’t have to see them die for good measure. The work call came immediately after, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to see it again for a couple months. He can just use work as an excuse next time Soap asks about the dead plant and be done with it.

But it wasn’t done with. Work took eight months, and gathering the courage to just step out to be greeted with a dirty balcony and a dead plant took two weeks extra. But it wasn’t dead. It was thriving. He might be remembering wrong—which is rare for him—but he could’ve sworn the pots were actual terracotta instead of stone painted to look like terracotta. Its leaves are supposed to be brown, or yellow, but they’re now different shades of red, some even resembling wine. Confused, he went back in and kept the blinds closed, joking to himself that maybe it just disliked seeing him, and was better off left alone.

Or so he thought.

The next day he came back to the balcony only to be greeted by a wet patch of floor, and droplets of water on the leaves. It didn’t rain at all yesterday, so either there's a leak that landed right where his plant sits, or someone watered his plants for him. His suspicions landed on the apartment above his neighbour’s, since they’re the only one with an abundance of plants on their balcony. Even though they shared fire escape stairs, and could easily come down to his portion of the balcony, he doubted they would walk down the stairs every single day just to water his plants. So he wanted to see how they did it. Perhaps just hose it from afar? Since they did horribly miss his pot today, from the evidence of excess water on the floor.

How mistaken he was.

It was a weekend, and as soon as he woke up and got his tea and digestives, he sat with his blinds barely open and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Until he saw your figure, half covered by the curtains, waltzing right to his plant and watered it as if it was your own. You were there for at most two minutes before walking back upstairs and out of his line of sight.

This has to stop.

Quietly, he took the plant off the balcony and into the apartment, setting it down on an unoccupied dining chair. The plant might seem normal on the balcony, but indoors it looked out of place. It was as if his whole apartment felt smaller and devoid of colour as he stared at it.

Ghost was cleaning a shelf the next day when he heard a loud gasp outside. His reflexes got the better of him and opened the door to see the girl on her tippy toes looking down as if searching for something, and then turned back to look at him. They both stared at eachother like a deer in headlights, although in their heads they’re the deer and the other is the headlights.

Ghost was a deer for not taking good care of his plant, hiding it, and opening his balcony door in record time, and the girl was also a deer because she got caught going to someone else’s balcony to water said plant.

“Sorry, I—“ They both started at the same time.

“Oh, no, I’m sor—“ They started again.

The girl raised her free hand, “I’ll go first. I got scared that your plant fell or something. Sorry if I startled you.” As she said her gaze fell onto the plant in question sitting (unhappily) on the chair.

He looked back at it, “Brought it in to brighten up the place.” He lied. He didn’t even like it. He didn’t  like it being indoors, making his already measly living quarters feel even more barren. For some reason her face brightened.

“I have some plants that are easy to take care of, if you want more? I have some that doesn’t need sunlight that much so you can put it in th—“

“No.” What in bloody fuck was she thinking. Did she forget why she watered it in the first place? Is she daft? “Thanks. I go on work trips often.”

To his confusion her face brightened even more. “I can take care of them while you’re away, if you’d let me?”

Oh.

He had fallen right into her trap. Dead fucking centre. If he perceived her as an enemy he’d kill her there and then. But no part of his instincts or his sharpened mind saw her as one. It was his ego talking.

“Nah. You fancy him?” He pointed at the plant.

She shook her head, “I have no more space at mine.”

He went back and reached for it. “Tell you what. I’ll put this boy right back out here. And you can have half of my space for your shit. Sounds good?” 

Unfortunately for Ghost, the girl’s wide grin and sparkly doe eyes got burned in his mind for good. 

“You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

Work called him to Iceland not a week later and he spent the next few months barely seeing the sun. The country lacked sunlight, which was good for clandestine missions, but he could feel it took a toll on his mental health. Those artificial UV lights made his body feel better but his mind longed for the real deal. So that's why as soon as he got home he opened his curtains to its fullest to bask him and his apartment in some warmth. It took him about fifteen minutes to process what he was seeing. The girl really did take half his space. The space that made him rearrange his apartment layout completely so he could sit down on any chair and still have a view of said space. She had filled it to the best of her abilities while still making way for him to walk onto. Different plants with leaves of varying colours and sizes sat on colourful pots. He spent one morning just sitting there with his tea, trying to spot silly little frog statues half hidden underneath the growth.

It had been a while since he felt something other than dread when he got home, it was the first time in his shitty little apartment that he felt a smile creeping up his face, and it was the first time in what seemed to be forever that he felt.. content.

part 2

[kealia]

Notice me, please.

Neymar jr x reader

~ reader is mad at her boyfriend because he forgets about most stuff. Her boyfriend’s best friend locks them up to force them to make up.

———————————————————————

READER’s POV:

“Kylian, let me out!” I yelled out, knocking on the wooden door.

Kylian (my boyfriend’s best friend) locked us up, me and Neymar. We had a stupid argument, but I shall not apologise first! I do not care, I really don’t. He should apologise, it’s all his fault!

NEYMAR’s POV:

I sat down on the bed, I left my phone in the living room. Should’ve brought it with me… Y/n was making such a big deal out of this, I mean she can just apologise and then Ky would let us out. She’s mad at me because I forgot about our anniversary. I get that she’s angry, I do but she didn’t need to make an argument about it! It’s been about 3 days since she stopped talking to me. Of course, I told Kylian at training yesterday, today is his birthday. He invited us, mostly me, but he apparently texted Y/n to come over as well. Y/n was talking to Kylian today, but not to me. I guess he got this idea from her side of the story. Meu Deus, this is unbelievable!

“Y/n…” I started, I wanted to sound calm so there won’t be another argument.

READER’s POV:

“Y/n…” I heard Neymar’s soft voice, God why is he so calm! I stood in-front of the door and just stared at it. It wasn’t interesting at all but I was certainly not in the mood. He just has to apologise. That’s all…

“Querida, podemos conversar?” [Darling, can we talk?]

Did he just ‘Querida’ me? No way. After missing our anniversary he wants to ‘Querida’ me? He didn’t even apologise!

“Sobre o que?” I didn’t want to snap back at him but I just couldn’t help it. I was just extremely mad at Neymar. [About what?]

“Eu sinto muito…”

Carry on.

“Eu sinto muito, eu não queria que você me odiasse! Não esqueci de propósito, apenas esqueci de alguma forma!” [I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to hate me! I didn't forget on purpose, I just forgot somehow!]

I scoffed, “Eu deveria sentir pena de você?” [Should I feel sorry for you?]

If I’m honest, when he said ‘I didn’t mean for you to hate me!’ It did break a small vein in my heart. Key word: ‘small’! I turned to him, he was sitting on Kylian’s bed. He looked so adorable! I couldn’t break, I needed to stay mad at him. He’ll find out my weakness, which is, Him.

NEYMAR’s POV:

She stood in-front of me, her arms crossed, her eyebrows furrowed, she looked hot when she was mad. But she was mad at me.

“Bem eu não sei-“ I started but she cut me off, [Well, I don’t know-]

“Neymar! I am sick of you forgetting stuff! I mean this anniversary was important. It was important for me! I thought you’d feel the same. For God’s sake, I thought you were different from them! I thought you won’t forget about small things like this! Why can’t you see that?”

I’ve never seen Y/n so frustrated. She seemed more angrier than in our last argument. I didn’t want to fight again. I wanted to apologise…

“Bebê, I really am sorry. Very sorry. I didn’t want you to be mad at me. Please, não me odeie, eu apenas esqueci. Não irá acontecer novamente. Eu prometo!” [Don't hate me, I just forgot. It won't happen again. I promise!]

“Oh please, Ney. I’ve heard that loads of times. Too many! Infact.”

How am I meant to apologise when she won’t let me?

READER’s POV:

I know I was being stubborn but many men told me that. They told me to trust them, that they promise me this, they won’t do that again, it was just a mistake, it only happened once. I was sick. Sick and tired. Exhausted. Why can’t men just be expected to remember stuff or to not do it again? Neymar thinks that not remembering an anniversary is the only thing he did. He forgot loads of stuff. Like doing most of his chores I told him to do, while I was away. My favourite colour, my parent’s names, that I had siblings, that I crave chocolate during that time of the month. He forgets the simple stuff, men just don’t get it. They don’t get it, that we, women, love when they remember small details about us. I wish he’d see me the way I see him. I notice when his eyes soften anytime he sees Davi or Kylian, I notice how much he cares about his sister or mother, how excited he gets when he sees a dog, how he slowly lost his passion in football, I notice so much stuff about him. I wish he noticed my little details…

NEYMAR’s POV;

“Look, Ney. It isn’t just about the anniversary. It’s about how stressed you are about training and family. I get it, I know how stressful work is and family. I have a family and I work, you know that! It’s just… it seems as if you don’t really care about me. You ignore me, the things I do for you-“

“Y/n, I don’t ignore you. I don’t. Eu noto como você escolhe um tom diferente de batom ou gloss para cada ocasião, como você troca de roupa 10 vezes só para voltar para a primeira, como seu sotaque português está melhorando, como você diz ‘ai’ em vez de ‘ouch’,a maneira como seu cabelo se enrola naturalmente na parte inferior, como suas sardas aparecem no verão, mas desaparecem quando fica frio. I notice you, meu amor.” [I notice how you choose a different shade of lipstick or lipgloss for every occasion, how you change clothes 10 times only to go back to the first outfit, how your Portuguese accent is improving, how you say "ai" instead of "ouch", the way your hair curls naturally at the bottom, how your freckles show up in the summer but disappear when it gets cold.]

She started crying, I hope they were happy tears. I didn’t mean to make her cry. I opened my arms and stood up, smiling at her. She looked down, her tears flowing down to the floor.

“Venha aqui.” I told her softly, she looked up and rapidly wrapped her hands around my waist. I held her head close to my chest. My shirt slowly dampening from her tears. I buried my face into her hair. It smelt like vanilla and coffee. Just like she smells, I loved that about her. Sometimes I use her shampoo, because it smells like her. Like Y/n. Like my sweet girlfriend.

I heard the door creak open, “You okay?” Kylian asked.

I just hummed and nodded to him, he closed the door and left us. We stayed like that for about 15 minutes. I love her.

I could never be mad at her, I could never ignore her. I hope she knows that.

———————————————————————

I wrote this at 3 am so there might be some grammar and spelling mistakes but let’s hope not!

Happy New Year!!!

<3

[minhosimthings]

A La Folie ft. Jay - The Vows

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, mention of bruises, VOWS BITCHES YAYYY

A/N: and with this, Jay's fic is officially done for the French Quotes Series! Now we move onto Jake. Please enjoy the vows everyone!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || The Wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

You had never attended a wedding before Heeseung's wedding with his Princess. She was from the Kingdom of Witchelm...you think. Either way, you couldn't remember much from the wedding, except the fact that the bride looked stunning and Heeseung looked stunned.

And all the dancing of course. You were worried that your toes wouldn't adjust to the fast pace of Jay's spectacular dancing skills, but, being the lovesick man he was, he managed to help you.

And he promised that you'd be the best dancer in all of Vadronia by the time of your own wedding.

Time flies fast and it indeed did race across and suddenly it was your wedding.

Never in a million lifetimes would anyone have thought that a mercenary king would fall for a mere healer. But as you admired your carefully woven dress in the mirror, with Heeseung's wife (who was now your best friend) giggling behind you, you laughed at the thought of Jay's fellow kings losing their bets with each other.

And then suddenly you were on the aisle. Flowers in your hand, flowers in your hair, and tiny painted flowers decorating your shoulder, perfectly merging in with your bruise, Jay thought that this was heaven.

"L/N Y/N of Vadronia," Jay cleared his throat before speaking, looking nervously down at his parchment, your smile being the only thing that could stop his tears from flowing down their barricade.

You could see Heeseung, trying not to stare at his wife, who was behind you holding the ring, and you smiled. Love was truly in the air today.

"I used to think love was poison, a darkening thing, meant to rage all and turn everything to horror." Jay took a shuddering breath, before looking up at you. Her smile, he thought, focus Jay!

"Love, to me was the worst thing in this world, at some point I managed to convince myself that it didn't exist. Hell, I wanted to convince myself that I didn't exist. The pages of my diary were rotten to the darkness. Just ask these idiots standing behind me." He motioned towards the silently crying kings behind him.

"Perhaps that's the thing I want to thank you for today, my love. I don't think I've ever understood what love actually is have I? And then you stepped in like some guardian angel, ready to seize me by the collar of my shirt, shake me into pieces and scream at me about what love truly is."

Had you truly done that to him?

"Maybe I'm exaggerating, you haven't grabbed my collar until the day before yesterday, the colour of the flowers were genuinely not my fault." That elicited a laugh from your lips.

"I would like to thank you for making me see the beauty in the little things in life. In all the daffodils, or carved rubies, or even baking powder to calm a bubbling liquid down."

A love-sick giggle escaped your mouth.

"Thank you for sharing your dreams, and your nightmares with me.Thank you for showing me what life truly means again.Thank you for making me feel wanted, needed and most importantly, loved. Thank you, for teaching me to see love not as it is but as it could be. Because I realise now, more than ever, that love, it isn't something which stays constant, like forged metal. It's an ever moving, ever changing thing, like the waves of the sea, like a lavender in the breeze, or maybe a scar or a bruise which heals as time goes on."

A scar. Your scars or his scars?, you thought. Whichever one it was, you knew Jay meant to talk about some old red string tied to a pinkie.

"You know, there was this thing my mother used to say. To love a person means to love them to absolute insanity."

A la Folie.

"She always told me she would explain the meaning of it to me when I grew up. She never got the chance to, but I hope she knows today, that I understand what her engravings of a la folie means. Would you like to know why?"

He leaned forward, raising a hand up to cup your cheek ever so gently.

"Insanity is a meagre price to pay if it meant I could have you for the rest of eternity, even if I was a madman and you were the figment of my imagination. Then you'd be the best thing I'd have ever imagined."

Insanity.

A common topic among healers. Apparently no one knew how to heal it.

But at this moment, when your lips pressed against Jay's in a bittersweet moment of longing, loss and love, you felt that insanity would truly be a coin to pay for the man in front of you.

Maybe he truly was the actual healer out of both of you.

Love's an insane thing don't you think?

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @niinjo

[atsucry]

Beyond The Thorn Vines

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐈𝐈.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐈.

Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

warnings: heavily ooc malleus and does not exactly follow his cannon backstory. Everything is in favour for the ff plot. Also probably ooc lillia just to make sure. I have absolutely no idea how malleus's magic works so I jst winged some stuff so...

content: Angst.

It was just like any other day. Home lessons from Lillia and spending most of his time in his room, long curtains that drape over equally tall windows, caging his room in black. Though at least he had something to look forward to today. Meeting up back at that river after sunset to play the little games you've planned with him.

He moved quietly across the room, peeling back the gossamer curtains to take a peek at the time of day. And would you look at that? It's almost sundown. The sea of trees stretched out into the distance, the rest was covered by fog. The monotonous routine was not for the young boy.

He followed the same steps to sneak out of the castle and avoid the attention of the supervisors of the castle, he followed the same route he took to escape yesterday, only hoping that the schedule had remained unchanged.

He slipped through the corridor from his room to the lower hall, being careful to not creak the door as much when he closed it. his small feet pitter-pattering on the polished tile, so shiny that it reflected the darkly painted walls that always showed Malleus an indifference towards him. Though, the nooks and crannies of the carvings in them didn't match that cleanliness of the floor beneath his feet…for some reason.

He ducked behind large antiques or pillars if he ever saw the guards patrolling whatever room he was in, careful not to accidentally be caught under their gaze.

After passing through many rooms—He finally stood at the front of the dungeon. This was how he managed to find an alternative escape—through pure curiosity. He peeled the door open to reveal a spiral staircase that only led down. He navigated through the almost labyrinth like dungeon, occasionally tripping over some fell over prison bars and chains but never injuring or scraping himself.

He wondered if he forgot the path he took to that small breach in the cell walls. Everything was starting to look the same, that or he simply didn't pay attention last time he did go through here.

A rat came through, though. He darted his eyes to where the little rodent came from, and lucky him it just so happened to be the exit he was looking for. He quickly turned back to the rat. "Thank you, but I'm sure the guards will beat you for invading such lavish property."

He squeezed his body through the bars of the cell like last time. It has gotten much easier.

He had to mentally prepare himself to go through the crawlspace again, he sucked in a breath before wriggling himself through. He felt like a worm, he crawled up the tunnel that led up. The scent of wet soil filled his senses, almost as if it had just recently rained. His eyes landed on a familiar gravel course.

Rising up, he swiped off the dust and dirt that had collected on his palms and in between his fingers. As he tread along the path, he made sure to be mindful this time about the little loose rocks that could easily trip him.

You arrived at the river a little too early, so you resorted to skipping rocks and pebbles you picked up from the river bed—or even going in yourself to see if there was any addition to the place, of course there was none but you had somehow expected better. Other than a few flatworms, there was nothing much to be seen. You could only entertain yourself by collecting all of the most 'colourful' pebbles you could find and fit them in your hand. Perhaps this could be something new to present to your play partner.

You raised your head out of the water. "This sucks…I'm bored out of my mind." pouting at yourself, looking 'round to find anything else that was interesting.

You remembered the times you would sometimes perform songs by yourself—or to the little water critters. The wind chimed as it passed by, the tree branches waving down at you.

You reached out to the edge of the land, folding your arms to pillow and rest your head upon it, sighing out of boredom. You pour out all the things you collected in front of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, a water shrew had made an appearance before you. "An interesting fellow" you think to yourself. It scurried away before you could take a second glance at it.

The sound of moving gravel caught your attention, you whipped your head up at the origin of the noise, you squinted your eyes just to see those recognizable horns jogging closer, sitting atop a breathless boy.

"How was the journey, hm?" You said in a playful manner. "You look like you had to outrun a boar." You pointed out the sweat trickling down his forehead. "What's got you in a rush?"

He came to a full stop before you, placing his hands on his knees and bowing his head to catch his breath—huffing and puffing a little.

"I haven't the faintest idea. I suppose I was just eager to meet up again."

You raised your brow slightly at that.

"You know, for someone the same age as me, you sure do talk very fancy."

"No, just a bit formally."

"Formally it is then."

Malleus caught up to his breath, finally. When he looked down to glance at you, you had quickly collected back all the small rocks in your hand and held it up to him.

"Which one is the prettiest to you?" You suddenly asked.

He paused before ultimately deciding to play along with whatever you had planned. He carefully inspected the pile of stones before picking up a green coloured one at random. rolling it around in his fingers.

"This one is the prettiest."

Your eyes lit up at his answer, it wasn't much but at least he participated.

"Is it cause it matches your eyes or what?"

An immediate silence overcame the both of you. His mouth slightly parted.

You blinked, it felt as if you've made a terrible mistake of the kind. You slowly set the pile of pebbles back in front of you to continue to observe his face. Crickets sung in the background and it made almost everything worse.

"Matches my eyes…?" He repeated, his voice a murmur. It's almost as if he was saying it to himself rather than to you. He broke out of his frozen state to continue examining the stone. "I suppose it does." He pocketed the stone. "I haven't given things like these much thought."

You tilted your head at him, puzzled. “You’ve never thought about what’s pretty?”

He shook his head slowly. “There hasn’t been much need for it. The castle is… functional, not beautiful. And I’ve been taught to value strength, wisdom, and power—things that are useful.”

"Useful things can be beautiful too." You said it like it was the obvious, which was true, by the way.

“Perhaps,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “But it’s not something I’ve been taught to see.”

"Well…I'll teach you what I know, You'll teach me what you know!" You said enthusiastically. He seemed to nod, a genuine smile now forming on his face. "That sounds like a plan."

The two of you spent the rest of the evening by the river, sharing stories, playing games, and finding beauty in the small things around you. Exposing him to the activities and games you played with the other nymphs.

This continued on for months; honestly, Malleus was surprised no one had caught on yet. He was glad that no one had. Because these meetups became the highlight of his day. He learned how to do outdoor games, like skipping stones, all that stuff. You taught him how to dance one time, which was fun.

On the eighth month of this routine, you'd have finally become friends. Each Other's first friends.

Today was just like any other ordinary day, you tried switching it up every now and then to keep things interesting. Although, today, Malleus had something else planned for the activities.

You were recalling all the events that happened to you today to Malleus before he spoke up, "Would you like to see my unique magic?"

"...Unique magic? Ah, so…magic you made up on your own, I'm assuming?"

"Exactly. You pick up on things fast." His face turned into a look of uncertainty, "Though… I am aware of its capabilities. It can be... intimidating. But I have control over it."

"Alright…show me." You said, Nodding.

"Very well, follow me. I need more space to perform it."

He took your hand in his before leading you to who knows where. "...You do know where we're going, correct?" He said, looking back at you. "Of course I do…I think. But you can trust my sense of direction."

You eventually made it to a forest clearing, your companion hummed in satisfaction as he let go of your hand, making his way to the centre to conduct his magic.

"...just to be sure, you DO think this is a safe idea?"

"...Safe enough."

Malleus’s eyes gleamed with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. He took a step back, lifting his hand towards the sky. You could feel the air grow heavier, charged with a kind of energy that made the hairs on your neck stand on end.

"Just a little warning im giving you, this will put you in a deep sleep until I end the spell."

It was only now that the realisation hit you that maybe this wasn't the greatest idea. But maybe it was too late, he was already mid-incantation. You could perhaps try interrupting the entire thing—

By then it was already too late. "Spinning wheel of fate," He started, "keep pulling the thread of disaster. As king of the abyss, I shall bestow this upon you—"

"Hey—! Don't you think it's too dangerous to perform a spell that you aren't that familiar with—"

"Fae of Maleficence."

The air seemed to freeze in place as Malleus completed the incantation. Dark, green thorn vines shot up from the ground, the earth beneath you almost crumbled due to the force.

You barely had time to react as the first vine shot toward you, then several more followed after.

**

In such a short notice, your world turned black.

Where were you?

Though, as time went on, you slowly stopped caring. It was tranquil; you accepted the deep slumber, you welcomed the serenity.

Malleus stood in the clearing, his eyes wide as he saw you encased within the thorny sphere. A wave of unease passed over him, but he quickly brushed it off.

He approached the spherical, thorny prison, running his fingers along the cracks of the vines. Taking a deep breath, he began to focus on the spell’s reversal. His voice was steady, filled with the confidence that his magic would undo the spell without any harm. “Fate’s thread, rewind... Release the one I hold in this abyss.”

The vines slowly retracted, revealing you bit by bit as you softly fell onto the grass, your body limp. He still felt that stomach dropping feeling, but he just ignored it again. He was so sure that this was just temporary.

"Psst, wake up." He whispered. "How was that for magic?" At this point he looked stupid for trying to have a conversation with an unconscious person. That was when everything started to settle in.

He quickly tried shaking your body, hoping that you made some movement, even in your sleep. You were breathing, but you gave him no response. Surely he made no mistake in the spell.

"Please wake up…" He begged, kneeling down beside your body and examining your state. "Wake up…" He pleaded once more. Trying again one more time. "Wake…up…—?"

A cold hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, peeling him away from your body. He was flung backward, landing with a painful thud. Curling up from the shock, he looked up to see a group of Naiads surrounding you. Their presence was ominous, and he knew he was in deep trouble. These were your family, or at least, people close to you.

They knelt down to observe your condition, cradling you in their arms before turning to him. Their gaze was cold, but at the same time held a fiery rage.

"You must leave." A voice emitted from the heart of the circle.

"Leave and never walk alongside our kind again." Rising to her feet, with you in her arms. As he looked at her more, it seemed that she was your mother. His eyes widened at the realisation.

"You cretin! Magic like this isn’t for children to play with!" Another voice rang out, filled with righteous anger.

Malleus had to be careful where he tread with his words. He wanted for everything to work out, he wanted it all to be okay. Though, he knows he is the only one responsible for such a disgrace. "Please! I apologise! I didn't mean for this to be the outcome but if you allowed me more time I could potentially reverse it—!"

"You've done enough here." The mother said. "Leave." She repeated one last time. "Leave while you still have feet,"

Her voice was stern. She threatened the young boy one last time before all the others slowly got up on their feet too. Vanishing into the forest. Along with you, too.

It hit him that he missed the opportunity to defend himself just a bit more, that he could do something to fix it. To return you to your original state.

The mage finally collected himself before stumbling through the forest, luckily having left some foot tracks and backtracking it. pathetic sniffles and whines echoed throughout the trees. But even they seemed to bend and shriek away from him. The very energy that fueled his magic, feared him.

He ran, occasionally tripping over but immediately picking himself back up.

That's when he saw the river you and he used to play together at. The spot where you introduced yourself so cautiously, the second time he decided to meet you, months of building up your bond till you finally offered to be his friend. But when he got closer to just sit and reminisce for a while more, the water had suddenly flowed harsher. Almost to bat him away from itself.

He gave up.

What more could he do?

Was he really meant to be feared? all alone? It was hard enough making friends. But it’s how it goes. Living things take such time to grow and to bloom, but it could easily be destroyed by one wrong step from a careless person to crumple its beauty.

He was sick and tired. He marched his way home, back to the cold embrace. Each step carried weight that was heavier than the world of magic itself.

This time he didn't take the secret hole in the wall to sneak back in. He was too frustrated to go through all of it. He walked up the steps to the large gate and screamed for the guards to let him inside.

They obeyed fearfully. Even if he was just a child, he still held such great power over most.

His stomps echoed throughout the entire property, like a large beast was the one causing it. As he walked, he bumped into his guardian in the middle of the hallway.

"Ah! Malleus! ah…how dishevelled you are…where have you been?" Lillia asked,concern was evident in his voice.

"...Out."

"Yea…Where, exactly?"

"In the forest…"

Lillia wore a deadpanned face as he put his hands on the boy's shoulder. "Your details are lacking."

Malleus couldn't hold it back much more. A river of tears streamed down his face, It was rare for him to see malleus in such a state.

Snow then started falling from the sky.

"I just wanted to show them something interesting, I didn't know that the magic that I created—could—oh…I don't know…"

Lillia of course did not let that slip, who has Malleus been seeing?

"...Who, exactly, did you show your ability to?" He bit his lips in anticipation. What if the prince got into a tangle with some evil being—no—well that didn't follow logical sense. He wouldn't cry over hurting someone who wished harm upon him. Perhaps a little friend.

"...a kid named (Y/N)." At the mention of a name, Lillia quickly shot Malleus with an almost terrified expression. If they introduced themselves to Malleus, Malleus must've done the same. "Have you told them your name too?!?"

"Of course I have…Why wouldn't I—?"

"You can't just go around telling strangers your name! As fae, when we tell people our names that means we give them power over us!" He informed the naive boy.

Malleus recoiled slightly at Lillia's words, his tear-streaked face showing confusion and a hint of fear. The realisation of what he might have done—what he had given away—sank into him with the weight of it.

"But... Lillia, (Y/N) isn't like that," Malleus protested, his voice trembling. "They're my friend…Used to be. But they would never use my name to hurt me." Malleus felt a sting in his heart when he said the last sentence, his thoughts cruising back to what he'd done.

Lillia's stern expression softened. He knelt down to be at eye level with Malleus, his hands still resting on the boy's shoulders. "Malleus, it's not about trust. It's about understanding the consequences of your actions. Even if (Y/N) doesn't mean harm, others might. Your name is a powerful thing—our names are tied to our very essence."

Malleus sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "But I didn't know... I just wanted to share something special with them. I wanted them to see what I could do, to know that I'm not just someone to be feared," He tried explaining. "But it just did the exact thing that I was clearly avoiding!"

He could see the turmoil in Malleus's eyes, the desperation to connect with someone.

"Oh Malleus…What to do with you…"

The young boy continued to wallow away in his room, bitter walls were the only embrace he could get other than the comfort of his own coverlet, he no longer found sunrise and sundown to be something he'd look forward to other than just another passing of time.

Decades have followed, Malleus only had to focus on improving his skill, ability, and magic. He'd known very little about the changes in the outside world other than watching hundreds of seasons pass by everyday till He'd almost fully matured. Being accepted into Night Raven College was as easy as breathing for him, being the top student and the housewarden was no easy feat for any normal individual.

In between those years, he'd eventually have forgotten about you. Although, the nuisance of feeling a strangely empty space around him bothered him to no end. He'd blame it on just lacking friends. But even then, he'd still harbour that sense of emptiness even if he was surrounded by his closest dorm mates.

Note: AGEHHAHA I finished this at 9:30. ALSO APOLOGIES AGAIN FOR ANY WRITING MISTAKES I MAY HAVE MADE😶

thank you for reading though❗️❗️💯 I WILL EDIT ALL ERRORS TOMORROW.

[uniquely-plural]

It can be difficult sometimes to know where some feelings are originating from in our system. Emotions that don't align with the usual shared sense of self in our core often seem to be messages from someone else in the system. It can be a bit of a distressing experience, but we are trying to honour their need to be heard and use it to get to know system members that have so far mostly stayed in the background of the innerworld.

Moth is one of those members. She's been here since very early in our development as a system, and was added to our SimplyPlural when we first started using it, at the same time as all of our core facets. All I knew is what she identified with (rosy maple moths), that her pronouns were she/her, and that she was incredibly shy and sensitive.

I made the graphic you see above (using a free for non commercial purposes asset) as her SimplyPlural avatar, and let her be. As mentioned, she seemed to be most comfortable staying in the background of the innerworld, or her own individual innerplace, which is not accessible to our shared monoconsciousness.

Very recently, though, she's started to share some of her feelings with us. It wasn't until yesterday we understood it was Moth, though. Once we did it was much easier to listen and learn more.

Moth is a nonhuman trans girl, and after we as a transmasc body have been on T for over a year now, she seems to be having some issues with gender dysphoria + humanoid body dysphoria. Obviously this is not the easiest thing to navigate. She doesn't wanna front and is very scared it would just make it all worse, but her feelings are strong and we feel very connected to them right now anyway.

We're really hoping we can make her feel a little bit more understood, accepted, and maybe even slightly more at home in our shared body. We wore some pink and yellow eyeliner today and that made her feel happy. We'll try to paint our nails a colour she likes. Maybe even see how a dress or a skirt would make her feel. She especially has trouble with our beard, and we feel like some of our littles do too as a sensory thing, so we're gonna try out shaving it for the first time. I always kinda wanted to try anyway, I was just too scared before, mostly to mess up my skin. Seems like good motivation to experiment and learn :)

It's impossible to make everyone in the system always happy with the way we are presenting ourselves, and it will probably always be a balancing act. But I appreciate the qualities that Moth brings to the complexity of our shared identity, and I recognise in her a mirror of aspects of our core - The way I don't want to feel trapped forever in the role of what society considers acceptable for a man. She also feels like a healing alternative to the traumatic femininity that was forced onto us long ago.

If you have any words of encouragement that would really be appreciated. I'd love for her to be able to read some people being nice, or just saying hi! 💜

[artemis-fowl-incident-report]

Diary of the Ho Chi Minh city Sprite

Day 1 of exile:

How? How could they do this to me? Was I not loyal? Was I not accommodating? Was I not accomplished? I gave my life to my research, for the People. I found new ways to acquire magic without getting so close to the humans. Ways to make ourselves stronger, to be ready to face the mud folk if the need arose.

Were some of the ways I found out this information extreme? Yes. But cruel? Never. How can it be cruel when those I experimented on volunteered? They knew the risks, knew the pain they would experience, but they knew it was for the People. And I ensured none of them, not a single drop of blood, went to waste.

And for that they called me a heretic. Me! Heaven knows most of the council spit in the face of the old Gods every day with their womanising and disregard of nature, but you don't see anyone accusing them of heresy.

I've made my way to a city not too far from the sea here in Vietnam. Its better to hide myself for the time being, in case any rogue bounty hunters come along looking for a quick score.

Year 1 of exile:

The locals seem friendly, so long as I heal their warts and spin some drivel about prophecies and such. Humans can be really ridiculous sometimes. The children, though, they're more swayed by money and a good story. I can respect that. And they're more than willing to trade. I wonder how many fathers are left scratching their heads about where their rice wine has gone, or mothers left perplexed about how quickly they used up all their mandrake root. Its not much, but it should do for the moment.

Truly the worst thing so far is the boredom. In Haven City, there was light and music and colour. Here they've barely figured out how electricity works. And that boredom just heightens the anxiety of if the authorities will find me soon.

Year 100 of exile:

An elf came today. An officer. I saw his badge inside his coat. Turnball Root. He came asking about magic. Seems he's been participating in some illegal activities himself, and needs a spark of two to keep him going. You best believe I made him pay handsomely. Truly I don't care what he does with that information. The fairy people are beyond my respect or my concern... Even so... there was evil in that man. Palpable evil.

Year 1000 of exile:

Nguyen came this morning. I've told him once, I've told him a thousand times. No about of magic is bringing his hair back. He was polite about it, as always, but something about it felt... off. He refused to come into my little tent, standing outside like a scared child. When I reached out to take the payment for his mothers medication, I heard a mechanical clicking sound. Did he take a photograph of me?

I hear his voice coming down the alley. I shall see what he and his apparent new friends have to say.

I woke up today and I do not remember yesterday. I do not remember the last week.

What has happened to me?

What have I done?

[miracles-and-butterflies]

For @zuuz-dot-chr-exe, based on the prompt: “Isabela trying to convince Dolores to have a streak of her hair dyied.”

A short one shot of Isabela and Dolores bonding while Isa tries to convince her prima-hermana to let her dye a single strand of hair. Or Isabela might not like showing it but sometimes she still needs reassurance from her family that being imperfect is okay.

Something Unexpected

“No, Isabela.”

It wasn't the first time she heard it and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Ever since she got her gift back, Isabela had been no stranger to dyeing anything she could get her hands on. From her hair to her dress to her furniture to even her own skin, she would stain in any colour - splattered, several at once or mix up something new. She wasn’t picky. If anything, she liked the mash of colour.

Subsequently, this also meant her family had to adjust to this change too. For the most part, they were on board and very supportive. Many of them would happily join in or offer themselves as victims test subjects. The only real disapproval would come from her mother when she made a mess and refused to clean it, and when she stained a new piece of clothing in front of Mirabel. The nagging over the kitchen and whining of wasted thread aside, Isabela was much happier than she ever remembers being.

She frequently found herself adding dyed strands to the hair of Luisa, Camilo and Antonio. That was where you could find the four Madrigal kids on Sunday morning like today. Not that she is complaining about the arrangement, but… it would be nice to do someone else’s hair. And her one target didn’t seem to have any other response. No matter how she approached the offer.

“Please, Dolores!” Antonio tried, tugging at his sister’s sleeve with hopeful eyes. “It doesn’t hurt or anything, I promise. You’ll look so pretty with your hair done!”

Dolores barely lifted her eyes from her tiple, continuing to strum the tune she was learning.

“Come on, we’re all doing it, sis. Just have Bela put some yellow in.” Camilo kicked his foot at her chair. Unlike Antonio’s flattery and begging, his go-to strategy was always to annoy his sister into doing something. Which got pretty similar results. She didn’t move and instead Casita pushed him aside. “Casita, that’s not fair! It’s not my fault! Dolores is ruining the whole afternoon!”

“Why are you all getting on my case about this? Mirabel isn’t joining in either.” Dolores squeaked.

“Don’t spin this on me,” Mirabel snapped, stopping her embroidery to look up at her accuser. “You know full well I’m allergic.”

“You’re allergic to tree pollen, not flowers, you’re fine!”

Mirabel brushed her forehead curl back, revealing an irritated red patch, a rash from some test Isabela had done. She shot Dolores a challenging look, “Then explain the existence of the allergic reaction I’ve had, Lola.” Dolores rolled her eyes, turning away. Mirabel set her hair back, sighing to herself as she picked up her needle, “Dios, dame fuerzas. Tener la razón todo el tiempo es agotador.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Dolores whispered over.

“Good.” Mirabel hummed.

Luisa, who was sat on Mirabel’s other side, dropped an arm around her sister. “I can’t believe you’d throw this all on her. She is a child and she has a reason to not participate, what the hell is your excuse anyways? Let me guess: the pollen is too loud?” She asked, teasing.

“Oh, you are so funny, Luisa.” She deadpanned.

“One strand of hair, Dolores, that’s all I’m asking,” Isabela piped up, waving the red flower around dramatically. “Come on, I’m your best friend! Your sister-like figure—”

“Do not give me that song and dance again. You did it twice yesterday and I still have a headache.”

“Okay, fine… But, you know, as the eldest grandchild, I’m technically the one in charge, so what I say goes and I say—”

“It’s not going to happen, Isabela.”

Isabela groaned, “Please!? I will literally pay you!”

“There isn’t enough money in Colombia for that.” Dolores countered.

Seemingly giving up, Isabela collapsed back into the chair behind her. Luisa chuckled a bit but didn’t say anything more, happy enough to let this go too. Antonio pouted while Camilo huffed, getting onto his feet he offered his hand to the younger boy.

“Come on, Toñito, let’s go show Mamí and Papa how great our hair looks.” He suggested.

As the two boys ran off in a flurry of multicoloured powder, Dolores contented herself in the relative silence of the room. With a smirk to herself, she returned her focus back on to the instrument in hand. She barely got through the first chord before:

“Okay, your brothers are gone now. It’s just us. You can let me dye your hair now.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please!?”

“No.”

“Pretty please!?”

“No.”

“Bitch,” Isabela spat, slumping over onto the floor.

“Language.” Mirabel said, sing-song.

Luisa was giggling to herself at this point, clearly very entertained by both Isabela and Dolores’ ongoing argument. Even more so now that Mirabel had decided to try mediate the situation or at the very least Isabela’s swearing.

Dolores decided to simply ignore her three cousins, just focus on the song she had yet to finish because of all the interruptions and distractions in this room.

Honestly, she should have picked somewhere else to settle down with her tiple. It has crossed her mind an hour ago but she didn’t think too much of it. After all, they were her family. Her own brothers and cousins, and she did like being in their company. Even if she was just a silent spectator to the chaos of gremlins and Mirabel’s latest embroidery project.

When Isabela brought out the flowers and the boys began bouncing off the walls in hyper excitement and anticipation, she had her cue to leave. That would have been the chance to avoid all of this. Casita even nudged her foot to let her know. And yet… she still didn’t move. She remained in her seat, happily making her way through the chord progressions, enjoying the background noise of the chaos in the room.

“Oh, shut up!” Isabela flung back at her sister. “How would you feel if Luisa turned around and refused to wear your embroidery?”

“I wouldn’t blame her. It is her decision what she wants to wear and my embroidery is a disgrace.”

The laughter stopped very quickly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” Luisa exclaimed. “What did Mama tell you about demeaning yourself and your skills, hermanita?”

Mirabel clicked her tongue, just managing to stop herself from rolling her eyes. This wasn’t her first time doing this. She realised where this was going and stopped her work at a sensible place. “Not to do it, even in jest.”

“Exactly,” Luisa nodded. She heaved herself up onto her feet, scooping Mirabel up into her arms and headed for the exit. “Now, we’re gonna go into a quiet space upstairs, hug and discuss why you felt the need to say that, like the responsible and open Madrigal we are. Just know, I am not disappointed in you, just a little concerned at where such bullshit came from!”

“Language.”

“Yep, sorry, Mira. I realised as soon as I said it.”

Her footsteps disappeared up the stairs, leaving the room once again in silence. Quieter than before. Quieter than when she first entered the room.

It wasn’t the same kind of silence. It was the same silence she remembers on the first night after Casita’s collapse, almost a year ago to the day. Uncomfortable, to put it lightly. Different types of discomfort, of course, but somehow still the same. They weren’t pleasant to sit through and it ruined the melody every time she tried to play.

She set the tiple down in the empty spot beside her. Glancing over at Isabela, who had since slumped all the way down to the floor, flickering various petals and leaves into the air from her fingers.

“You don’t really think I don’t support you, do you?”

The petals unceremoniously dropped. Isabela sat up abruptly, coughing them out.

“What?” She asked.

“What you asked Mirabel,” Dolores clarified. “You implied that me not letting you dye my hair was the equivalent to Luisa turning down the embroidery Mirabel spends hours working on. I know you were exaggerating but the point remains; I’m asking if you think that I don’t care or support you.”

Isabela didn’t say anything, still unusually quiet. But the silence was enough of an indicator for Dolores.

As much as Isabela has grown to perfect herself and was a flawless actress, who had the entire town believing every smile was as real as life itself, Dolores had become incredibly sharp at reading people. Hearing everything gave her knowledge which was always an advantage in that process, but after so many years, it pretty much became second nature. So, even though Isabela had everyone else believing what she wanted, she never had and never will have Dolores.

Dolores stepped down, kneeling on the floor beside her cousin, taking her hand. Isabela raised an eyebrow at this.

“Isabela, I do care about you. I’m happy that you get to be yourself and, even though some of your actions are very stupid and downright dangerous, I do support you. I might not always say it or show it, but I do.” She insisted, offering a smile. “Okay?”

Isabela returned the smile, meeting her eyes. “So… can I dye your hair?”

Jesus fucking Christ—

“Fine,” she relented, covering Isabela’s mouth before she could start screaming in excitement. “But this stays between us, Isa. I don’t want my brothers knowing that I can change my mind, I’ll lose my power over them.”

“Whatever you want, Lola.”

[somediyprojects]

Free Palestine designed by Jacob de Graaf of Modern Folk Embroidery.

Today I want to share a pattern with you that uses Tatreez embroidery elements in support of the people of Palestine struggling through one of the most difficult times in their lives. I am aware that this is a highly divisive and contentious issue for a lot of people. Some people might be shocked or hurt by me sharing this design. I do hope on the other hand that by speaking out, others will do the same and will not be afraid of any backlash that might be there.  Sadly, the world has become more and more polarised – you are either this or that, and if you’re pro-this, you must be anti-that. The world is a more complex place and though I might be pro-this, it does not mean that I am anti-something-else. I hope you can see that side of me. We should not be scared to stand up for what is right, and to speak about such things without the fear of polarisation getting the better of us. For now, the text below as it appears in the booklet plus download links for the pattern.. Rotterdam, May 8th 2024 Lately, my great-uncle Jacob de Graaf and his wife Trijntje de Kroon have been on my mind. Three years ago, they were posthumously awarded the Yad Vashem award for bravery displayed during the Second World War by hiding Jewish citizens in their homes and saving them from certain death at the hands of the Nazis. I never got to know them as they passed just before and after my birth, but I admire their bravery in doing what they felt was right at a time when it was not only difficult but potentially life-threatening. They stood up for people they could help. I thought of it again yesterday when I saw a young man (@samih.madhoun on Instagram) playing a borrowed oud and singing songs in the refugee camp in Rafah, lifting the spirits of fellow refugees through his art. As I tearfully watched the video, I got angry at myself for not doing more besides weeping at my phone. For months, I have been shocked into a state of numbness by the genocide playing out on my TV, computer and phone. The annihilation of Palestine by the Israeli army is being broadcast to us live, and for too long, I have been struggling with how to express my fear, my anger, my frustration, and my support for the Palestinian people.We cannot turn a blind eye to what is currently happening. Our political leaders need to take action and speak out against the current genocide. I do not have the bravery of my great-aunt and uncle, but I can design patterns and share them with others—and hopefully inspire folks to speak out, too. My great-uncle did what was right during WWII. Will we do the same for our brothers and sisters in Palestine? ABOUT THE DESIGN This design uses Tatreez motifs found on traditional Palestinian dress. The central motif, called Scissors and Roses (Muqass wa Ward ), comes from Gaza. As the land is torn apart, I split the design into two, placing the question “Are we not their brothers and sisters” between them. On the sides is a rose border found on a dress from Ramallah. The doves at the bottom are found on many Palestinian embroideries. TECHNICAL DETAILS This design uses two colours: Black (2224 crosses) and Red (4226 crosses). It measures 113 crosses in width and 153 crosses in height. It features only full crosses and no specialty stitches. From the second page of the pattern onwards, you will notice a greyed-out area of 3 crosses wide — this indicates an overlap with the previous page to make it easier for you to continue stitching. The graph below gives size- and floss estimates for a wide range of materials. Floss calculations are based on working with 2 strands on 28- to 36-count linen (14- to 16-count aida). Higher counts use a single strand. You are free to stitch with as many strands as you like. The first floss estimate is for black, the 2nd for red. For instance, on 32-count linen, you would require 1.1 skein of black floss (standard 8 metre length skeins such as DMC and Anchor), and 2.1 skein of red floss.

I charted this in black and red, but feel free to choose your own colours. If you stitch on white, you could add some green to the design for instance to reflect the colours of the Palestinian flag. Thank you so much for downloading this free pattern and showing your support for Palestine. If you can, please make a donation to organisations who are actually doing amazing work in physically helping the Palestinian people. Two organisations that I have donated to are unwra.org and pcrf.net – but there are many bigger and smaller initiatives worthy of your support. Click on one of the links below to download your pattern. Feel free to share, print, and redistribute this design. When you do, I would ask not to change the booklet itself. Free Palestine – A4 format Free Palestine – Letter format With love, Jacob de Graaf

[pjo-tvs-version]

Fanfic no. 3 !! Wohooo!!! I never thought it would happen. I am sticking with Annabeth POVs currently as I enjoy writing them. This one's based on @liesmultixxx's suggestion of the day Percy goes missing. Title from Love Story by yet again Taylor Swift. Enjoy!

Beggin' you, "Please don't go, " 

I stand outside by the gates of my school, excited. It was a lovely Saturday afternoon and Sally had insisted on having lunch with her. The crowd around me was buzzing with enthusiasm too. Today was the last day of school. Everyone was planning their summer vacations. I smiled knowing that I had already planned how to spend the entirety of the few days I got. Training at camp, finishing the plans for the renovation of Olympus, helping out with the architecture of the new cabins, teaching the new campers a few tricks, chatting with Sally and of course, spending time with my Seaweed Brain.

I was told by a particular green eyed boy that I often get lost in my thoughts. As much as I hate accepting that, it's the truth I realise now. As I’m happily going over my to do list for this summer, I hear a car’s horn, startling me. It’s Paul’s Prius with Percy in the driver’s seat, wearing his orange camp shirt. “Did I scare you, Wise Girl?” he says mockingly. There is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes and it feels wonderful to observe it without a Greek apocalypse taking place.

I dump my books in the back seat, taking my place beside Percy as we set off to his New York apartment. A lunch by Sally’s and then we will be off to Camp Half Blood. I was eager to go to camp as I hadn't seen it in a while. I am looking forward to seeing the new campers, even the ones from minor gods. Yesterday Chiron had even Iris messaged me about my requirement for building the new cabins. Percy was most probably picking on my thoughts (that was something I realised that he is pretty good at doing since we started dating.)

 “Well someone looks happy today despite her pessimistic attitude”, said Percy. “Let me remind you that you have an English research paper to write a History project to work on and not to mention solving questions from Trigonometry” I replied.  Percy let out a groan and said “Well you take the win on this one but please tell me you are helping me out with trigonometry.” I laughed. It was so funny to see the Savior of Olympus complaining about maths homework. I retorted “Only if you give me an extra blue cookie.” Percy looked aghast and I was just enjoying the banter. I knew I hit the right bargain.

 “You drive a hard deal Annabeth. Can’t we just stick with something nicer like I give you an extra goodnight kiss and you help out with the soul destructive maths?” “Hmm let me think about it” I pause dramatically and pose to be in deep thought and then add “nope.” “Please Miss Owl Head. I am begging you” Percy adds with the cute baby seal eyes. Oh no! I stared at them and it was a mistake. The eyes always got me. “Okay fine the extra goodnight kiss it is in exchange for the maths homework. But I am warning you beforehand, I’ll just teach you the method, you are solving them yourself. Also the good night kiss better be good.” I say with a sigh. He grins and I can’t help but adore his raven coloured hair. The rest of our ride passed with more banters about school, camp and dates. I enjoyed every minute of it.

I waited as Percy parked the Prius. Sally is already standing at the door. I could smell the delicious lasagna bubbling in the oven. As always Sally hugged me. She smelt of cookies and honey suckles. It always filled me with warmth whenever I was with Sally. She was like the parent figure I never had. She always treated me so warmly, like her own family. It always managed to make me feel cosy and warmed my heart every time.

“Come in quick! The lasagna is almost done, my dear. The blue cookies are in the oven right now. They will be ready soon too. "Sally said as she beckoned her inside the Jackson apartment. Percy eyes always glazed with amazement whenever a Sally Jackson styled blue cookie was in a 1 mile radius from him. Percy helped Sally set up the dining table as I went to his room to freshen up and change. 

When I returned to the table, a table was ready for three. Paul I had been told by Percy was in school, teaching. Sally and Percy were seated already and were waiting for me. A dish full of mouth watering Lasagna, Sally’s classic seven layer dip with tortilla chips and a jug of lemonade were kept, ready to be eaten.

“Dig in '' Sally said and that is exactly what we did. Gods, it was delicious. We talked as we ate. Sally inquired about my school, Percy sprouting out facts about marine life and me going over my plans for the summer. There was utter chaos as the three of us ate and chatted and it was soo much fun. When our meal finished, I along with Percy helped clear up the table. It sounds weird but I had fun doing the dishes. 

When everything was done we sat on the couch with the blue cookies. Percy’s eyes rolled up in ecstasy at the sight of them and I was pretty sure that my face was pretty much the same. As I savored my last chocochip bite, I glanced at the watch. It was almost 4. I stand with Percy in tow. We had to leave for camp now.

Sally hugs us goodbye, packing a few cookies for our trip to camp too. We hail a taxi to Long Island. 

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

 Percy and I stood on Half Blood Hill, enjoying the view. Camp Half Blood was buzzing with excitement everywhere. Many of the Apollo kids were doing target practice. The satyrs were playing a sweet tune on their pipes to grow the strawberries. The sun was dipping and the view was breathtaking. “Race you down the hill. Whoever loses doesn't get the last cookie” I shout before sprinting down the hill. “Hey, that's not fair! You went first. But you're on Chase. Anything for my blue cookies.” Percy retorts and he races against me. 

As always it ended as a tie so the cookie will be divided into half. Chiron was there to greet us. After exchanging a few hugs, I went to meet my siblings in Cabin 6. Malcolm welcomed me back warmly. I make my way towards my bed to start settling in. Unpacking took way more time than I expected. “Hey Annabeth, time for dinner. We are even having a campfire tonight.” Malcolm calls out as I stack my last book on the shelf. Perfect timing. “Coming Malcolm," I reply.

After a filling dinner everyone gathers around the fire for a song night. I sit beside Percy, a little at the back of the crowd. We sing, laugh and dance till our throats are sore from shouting and our knees are worn out from the dancing. The crowd dispersed albeit reluctantly since we were having so much fun. Me and Percy walk, hand in hand towards our cabins.

The walk was purposely slow since we were savouring the solitude. As we reach the entrance of his cabin we both halt. A drop of water fell on my nose then another on my shoulder and then on my hand. Before I knew it, I was standing under a mini raincloud. Percy was getting drenched in the rain too but he was smiling, that classic troublemaker smile and his sea green eyes were full of amusement. “May I know exactly why Perseus Jackson is it raining only above us? Considering that you are a Son of Poseidon, it puts you in a quite suspicious position. There is no scien-” I say before I am cut off. 

Percy’s lips are on mine as kisses me soft and slow. As he pulls away grasping for breath, I remember that he kept his promise about the goodnight kiss. Something must have shown on my face as I leapt to the realization because Percy’s smile widened. “So this is your special goodnight kiss I see. Where both of us are drenched in rainwater” I say. “I always wanted to kiss you in the rain. Might be romantic you know. But I kept my promise. So math homework tomorrow?” he replies. He really is a Seaweed Brain. He looked so cute with his hair plastered across his face and pearl like water droplets on his eyes that I could’nt help but kiss him again.

I will begrudgingly admit that it was actually kind of romantic but there is no way I am saying it out loud. We pull away and I say with a sigh “Okay, maths homework lesson in the morning in the strawberry fields. Okay?” “Thank you so much Wise Girl. Good night.” he says with a yawn. “Goodnight Seaweed Brain” I reply, feeling sleepy too. I make my way towards my cabin with my heart content. Tomorrow will be a fresh new day and I can finally enjoy myself after so many taxing years of war.

I wake up to a sunny morning. I freshen up and grab my supplies. Chiron had requested me to meet him first thing in the morning as he wanted to discuss a few new cabin designs for me. As I make my way to the Big House, I am interrupted by Clarisse. “Have you seen your kelp-filled headed boyfriend? He was supposed to spar with me to a death battle.” Clarrise asks. I laughed. So Percy and Clarisse are going toi spar. Guess I’m going to watch a good show. “I’ll go check on him. He’s most probably snoring in his cabin.” I reply. Clarisse nods and goes to her cabin. 

I knock on the doors of cabin 3. No response. I knock again but still not a single reaction. That was weird so I just pushed against the doors to find an empty bunk bed. Where was Percy? He most probably must be playing one of his pranks on me. I step out and call out his name. Still no answer. I find Chiron waiting at the steps of the Big House. I’m sure he would have some idea. “Have you seen Percy Chiron?” I ask. There is a look of concern in his eyes. “Annabeth, dear I thought Percy was somewhere with you though it is unlikely that he would be awake so early in the morning.” Chiron responds. “What no! I just got up and was on my way to your office when Clarrise asked me if I knew where Percy was. I said no and went to his cabin to find him but he was’nt there.” I say, panic seizing me. “Annabeth, you are not the first camper who inquired about Percy. Are you sure you have no idea where Percy is or is it some joke?” he asked me.

“I swear on the Styx Chiron that I have no idea where Percy is.” I say as my dread increases in my heart. “Well this is serious then. I am going to announce this immediately” Chiron said.

Every camper was searching every possible place. I was getting terrified with every passing second. Percy pulled off pranks but they were light hearted. When I find him, I’m seriously going to threaten him about this. He has no right to give me such panic attacks. After a while of searchin everyone gathered in the Amphitheater. “We’ve looked everywhere, only the strawberry fields are left for us to-” Connor says before I cut him off.

The strawberry field, of course he must be there. Maybe he wanted to surprise me by getting up early and being ready to study. I race against the wind. As I reach the entrance of the field I shout out “I’m here Seaweed Brain. Time for maths.” Still no reply. He was’nt there. My heart was thudding against my chest and I fell to my knees. Where was Percy? The rest of camp arrives to find me there in this miserable condition. Malcom approaches and kneels beside me. “Don’t worry Annabeth, we'll find him. He must be somewhere, I’m sure of it.”

I burst into tears not being able to control them. Percy was gone? Overnight? He kissed me goodnight yesterday and now he is gone? There was no trace of him. He wasn't in camp and I realise with a foreboding fear that this isn't a prank. Chiron removes the crowd as Malcolm hugs me fiercely. “He’s gone, he’s gone” I say with shuddering breaths. “I was supposed to teach him maths, go on a date with him tomorrow and…”. “Annabeth, it's okay. He will be fine” Malcolm tries to reassure me. “You don’t understand. Where is he? Is he alive or…….” I didn't complete the sentence. That’s not possible. I was going to search for him until I found him. A part of my brain nags me- what if I don’t. I push that thought away. I stand up with shaky legs and reach for my cell phone and dial Sally. After a few rings she picks up, “Hey Annabeth how are you and Percy? Any issue?”. “Sally is- is Percy at home?” I say even as my heart slows with dread. “No Annabeth! Why would he be here?”. I can’t reply. I lost my voice and I didn't know how to respond. What should I tell her. Sally must have sensed the silence was not a good one because there was concern in her next words “Annabeth honey Annabeth are you okay? Is Percy okay…” If only I knew that my happy, planned summer was going to be my worst possible one….

So how was this? Positive criticism is appreciated. Thank you @liesmultixxx for the lovely suggestion. Hope you liked it!!!

You can read it here on AO3 too

[dira333]

Through the eyes of others - Sasuke x reader

part three - 7297 words (I got a bit carried away) - there’s some angst in there, beware. Also pushing rare ships in here that I once read about and fell in love with.

Kakashi likes to take credit for being the first one to notice. Yamato doesn’t care. 

Because while he wasn’t the one insisting that the Fox should stay in rotation for the whole time Sasuke was supposed to be tailed, he was the one calling her name when it was time to pick the members.

Kakashi hadn’t known her like he did, when he signed that mission. Hadn’t seen how perceptive she was to the pain of others. Maybe he didn’t even believe the extent of her talent when he gave the okay, like most people didn’t. As the Hokage and as a fellow Sharingan User he probably knew what they all knew - they needed someone good to follow him.

And the fox did not disappoint. Neither in her thorough work nor in the way her heart caught on his, like a loose thread likes to find the one nail jutting out of a doorway. 

-

Ino liked to call it her sixth sense, but it was probably just dumb luck that she spotted them. 

She was looking for Sai, originally, believing that he’d walk down the street any minute, coming back from his mission and seeing her in her prettiest outfit yet. She’d believed the same yesterday and the day before but today she’d be right.

The light caught in inkblack hair and she startled, moving to pose as naturally as she could while keeping an eye on him - only to realize that it wasn’t Sai walking towards her, but Sasuke.

And he was laughing.

Well, as much of a laugh you could usually get out of him. She’d never seen him belt out a laugh like Chouji could or howl in laughter like Kiba liked to do, but she’d seen him snicker or cough to cover what must have been a laugh in the first place.

She stepped aside, eager to investigate but less eager to be spotted. Who was he talking too?

At first it seemed like he was talking to air but then she noticed the woman walking next to him. She was a Shinobi, that was clearly visible even when she tried to cover it with a hideous Kimono in a terrible colour mix of bright orange and muddy green. Her face was bland enough that it could be forgotten immediately and her hair didn’t stand out either. But her hand, that Ino saw clearly, her left hand was curled around Sasuke’s elbow in a way she’d never seen someone touch him before.

Huh, that was interesting.

“Ino.” Sai’s voice so close to her ear startled her from her inquiries. 

“Sai.” She breathed out his name and nodded in the direction she had been staring. “Do you know her?”

“Oh.” He nodded, surprisingly. “Not her name, though. But she’s the Fox. She was part of Sasuke’s tail with me.”

“What’s she doing with him?”

“Maybe they’ve become friends?” He asked and blinked at her like he was trying to tell her something. “Like us?”

“Friends don’t hold onto each other like that.” She told him as she did, in fact, put her hand right where the girls had been. Well, on Sai’s arm, to be correct. It felt good to hold onto him, almost as good as it would feel to hold his hand, but it was daytime and they were Shinobi and she knew he hated it when he didn’t have both hands free to fight at any given moment.

He smiled instead of answering but with Sai that was one and the same.

-

“Sasuke? Dating someone?” Sakura looked perplexed for a moment before she nodded to herself. 

“Now that you’re asking me, I do remember him mentioning something when we brought up the possibility of a prosthetic arm.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Ino’s voice was both annoyed and excited. 

“There wasn’t much to tell.” Sakura neatly folded another bandage and put it away. “He mentioned he wanted to talk to someone about it and when I asked who that was, he mumbled something that sounded like girlfriend. And when I asked about that, he shut down and told me she did not see him that way.”

“Well, she was seeing him that way very much today. And Sai told me she’s Anbu, she was with him on the group that tailed Sasuke.”

“You don’t think he was flirting with her just so she would hide something shady?” Sakura bristles and Ino shrinks a little into herself.

“You don’t think that-”

“No, I don’t.” Sakura cuts her off. “Honestly I thought he wanted to talk to Naruto about the arm, because he’s already got one and maybe he doesn’t want one but doesn’t want to disappoint his best friend? Boys can be stupid like that. It’s none of our business if he’s dating anyone anyway if he wants to tell us, he will.”

“So you’re totally fine with that? You’re not jealous.”

Sakura could feel herself blush but not for the reasons Ino was probably thinking.

She hadn’t been thinking about Sasuke like that in a long time. He hadn’t been around when she was lonely or made her laugh when she was sad and while she recognized him as her friend and her teammate, he’d also grown into something like a brother and she wasn’t into undoing that change.

“There’s someone else I’m interested in.” She said instead, pointedly, to get Ino of Sasuke’s tail. It worked. Now she only needed to tell Kiba about that before Ino ran her mouth and his mother found out about it before he had the chance to tell her herself.

-

Surprisingly, she met Sasuke on her way back home. It was warm out and she took the longer route, taking her sweet time through the market to gaze at the goods still up for sale. 

She might have missed him, had he not stepped away for a moment to hold something up to the sun to glare at it. Sunlight caught in his hair and she’d know that haircut anywhere.

“Sasuke.” She called out his name and watched him hastily put back whatever he had held in his hands.

“Sakura.” He greeted her calmly. “Are you on your way home?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “How have you been? Haven’t seen you since the celebration and that was almost two weeks ago. Naruto’s keeping you busy?”

“I’m fine. I do train with Naruto three times a week but I’ve also been able to go on small missions.” He gifts her a little smirk. “Saving a cat from the tree and things like that.”

She laughs in memory of their Genin-missions but moves back to the topic at hand.

“Did you get the chance to think about the arm? Genin-missions are one thing but you might want one when you move to Chunin Level.”

Instead of answering, he stretches out his arm, his hand pointed to the side. It’s a weird gesture and Sakura stares at it, her mouth to slow to ask before someone steps out from the shadows.

She’s wearing a standard Shinobi outfit but Sakura doesn’t have to spot the Anbu Tattoo to know who she is, her Chakra Signature is something else. But then she walks the short distance between them and links her hand with Sasuke’s and Sakura knows exactly who she is.

“Hi.” Sakura smiles at her, trying to look the least bit nosy. “I’m Sakura.”

“I know.” The woman doesn’t smile, doesn’t offer her name and for a moment there’s an awkward silence between them until Sasuke squeezes her hand, the movement so tiny, Sakura could have missed it.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is smooth and soothing as she speaks and Sakura can’t help but think that any man would be a fool not to fall for that. “I think I just got a bit jealous right there.”

Sakura laughs, startled by her honesty and even more amused at the thought.

“God no, you can have him. Now that I have you here, are you guys free on Sunday? We could do a double date then.”

There’s another squeeze of hands between them but this time it’s her hand that squeezes his and Sasuke nods awkwardly.

“We will see.” He tells her. “Depends on the mission roster.”

She doesn’t put much hope on seeing them there, realizing that Sasuke managed to pick a partner that’s just as much an introvert as he is. 

But she still can’t help herself and leans forward with a wink as she makes to leave.

“Just so you know, Sasuke. I’d take the earrings you just put away. They will look lovely with her eyes.”

-

Hinata is pretty sure that she’s gotten the time right, but as she reaches the training field, Naruto’s already there. 

“I-I hope I-I’m not late.”

“No, Sasuke left a bit early, he wants to pick someone up before.”

“O-Oh.” She didn’t know Sasuke would be there. She’s still a bit unsure around him, his usual mode of quiet observation reminding her too much of her father to be comfortable. She tries to see him the way she sees Shino, but so far he hasn’t proven to be as awkward as her teammate.

“H-How was your day?”

She blinks in surprise. In all her life, she hasn’t heard Naruto stutter once. They’ve been spending more time together lately, training or talking or sitting together when she’s made some food for him that isn’t Ramen, so this isn’t different, is it? Just going out to eat with him after training.

He smiles almost sheepishly, rubbing his neck in the way he always does when he’s ready to admit something embarassing.

“Ah, Hinata-chan, I have to tell you… Well, Sasuke told me to get myself togeth- No, I mean.” He takes a breathe and laughs, wide and open like she knows him, before he turns and throws her one of those smiles that make her knees all wobbly.

“Sasuke said he’s dating something and it’s serious and I should get my shit together and admit that I like you too. Like, really really much and I…” He’s started fast and loud but his voice drops down now as his fingertips touch hers as if he’s trying to take her hand.

“I’d like to take you out on a date. We’ll have fun, I promise.”

She nods, unable to say anything, not trusting her voice. His smile blows up like a firework.

Rustling in the trees saves her from dropping to the floor in shock even though Naruto must have noticed something and taken her arm to stabilize her.

Sasuke steps out of the trees, face as passive as ever, a woman holding onto his arm in a simple gown. Hinata’s not sure she’s seen her before but she touches Sasuke with an ease she’s a little envious of. She feels like she might go up in flames just at the thought of touching Naruto.

As the two step closer, sunlight catches on little drops of glass hanging from her ears, the earrings glowing a red almost as bright as the Sharingan.

Somehow, Sasuke has managed to get them into something that Hinata can only describe as a dance party. She’s never been to a place like this where you can drink or eat or just dance, so many couples holding each other under soft lights, swaying to slow music.

He must be a romantic, she thinks, as he pulls his girlfriend towards the dance floor, giving Naruto a little push as they walk past.

Naruto is a clumsy dancer and so is she, but it’s fun with him and he manages to get her out of her head, to think about something other than the people around her.

But then she catches sight of the red earrings again and she sees them, Sasuke swaying awkwardly with only one arm slung around her shoulder, somewhere at the side where there aren’t that many people.

He catches her eye and she blushes but he winks at her, puts a a finger to his mouth and disappears in the crowd.

It takes her embarrassingly long to realize what he’d been doing, even as Naruto himself blushes over the realization.

Sasuke, who Naruto always calls a bore who’d never leave the house if he could, had gotten them here for their sake, playing along just long enough to get them to losen up.

She wonders if he did it for Naruto or for his girlfriend, but whenever she catches sight of the red earrings catching the sun, she can’t help but smile fondly, exchanging a knowing look instead of words with two people who share their silence like a warm blanket.

-

Temari doesn’t know much about Sasuke but what she knows doesn’t impress her much.

He’s had a bad childhood, but so did she and she did not betray her village over that.

He’s a genius - or so they say - but so is Shikamaru and he’s the one she can count on any day, even if he moans about how troublesome it is.

But she supposes, for all of his faults, Sasuke’s pretty darn good at picking his girl.

She’s quiet when they’re all out and about but when she offers a comment it’s either hilarious or insightfull, often leaving her stunned over the sharp humour of the other girl. She reminds her of her brother Kankuro’s wit, just softened where it needs to be and a hell of a lot smarter.

And she’s a great fighter too, something she only connects when she notices the blood red earings dangling on a chain around her neck, the only thing betraying the anonymity of the fox mask.

It wasn’t her first mission with the fox but the first one since both their wedding dates were official. With her family in Suna and herself still pretty much living there, there was still so much to do and plan that she didn’t appreciate being thrown into a last minute mission somewhere near Kirigakure. Shikamaru could figure it out if problems arose but he’d be the last to push forward on annoying tasks. Well, he’d do a little because he loved her but she’d be able to do so much more…

But when the Hokage had looked her in the eyes and told her he needed her expertise, she couldn’t just tell him no, especially knowing she’d be living in Konoha soon.

“How’s the wedding planning?” She asked instead, trying to get her mind off of things. 

The fox shrugged, the mask barely showing her eyes.

“We don’t have much to plan. We’ve got the house and will probably get married at the Uchiha lake.”

“Yeah but dress, maid of honor, flowers?”

“Sasuke will figure it out while I’m gone.” She explains flatly. “Sakura is taking him out for planning every day since she heard of his proposal.”

“Well, expect it to be pink, then. She’s your maid of honour?”

“No. I’d like to ask you, if you’re free.”

Temari almost drops from a tree at that comment, barely catching herself. The medi-nin that’s been trying to catch up with them for hours almost reaches her until she picks up speed again.

“I’m flattered, but… why me?”

“Sakura and Ino talk too much and Hinata would be too overwhelmed by all of it. Tenten and I aren’t close and I haven’t been able to speak to Karui since she moved here a month ago. Also Anko would kill me if I’d ask her, she hates dressing up. She’s only going to come for the alcohol.”

“Ah…” Temari’s silent for a moment.

“Don’t feel pressured to say yes. It was just a suggestion.”

Well now she can’t say no. But she also doesn’t know if she should say yes. It’s just a bad timing, she doesn’t really know her that well and it’s just…

“I’ll think about it.” She promises and the fox mask gives her a firm nod.

They’re still prepping for the actual mission tomorrow when the fox stumbles into the room, foamy white substance dripping from her chin and dropping to the floor in a coughing, wheezing heap.

Temari has seen enough deaths by poison to know what she’s dealing with but she’s not a Medi-Nin.

She calls for the one that she thought unnecessary when they left Konoha, removing the fox mask - which she actually isn’t allowed to do, but that’s just bullshit right now - to look into eyes so wide she can see herself in them. There’s no fear in them, but a lot of pain.

“What happened?!” She demands to know but the fox shakes her head, her hand clenching and unclenching around her fingers. Temari hadn’t even realized she’d taken her hand.

“Just nod or blink if you can’t nod. Blink twice for no, once for yes. Was this part of your mission?”

One blink.

“Does it affect our mission? Do we need to get up and fight?”

One blink. Two blinks. 

“Do we need to leave?”

One blink. Well, shit.

“We can’t leave.” The Medi-Nin who Temari never bothered to learn the name of, is astonished at her plan. “We’re on a mission.”

“There’s no mission anymore. She’s Anbu, she’s our team lead. If she says we need to go, we go.”

“I don’t know if I can stabilize her enough to move.”

Temari turns back, fear now gripping her own throat.

“Do you know what kind of poison this is?”

Two blinks. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Do you have any general antidotes. I’ll get our stuff, we’ll travel with my fan. It will take a lot of Charka but we’ll cut down on days of travel. You’ll have to keep her alive.”

The fox slips into unconsciousness not long after they leave the town they’d been staying in. 

Three hours into their move, the Medi-Nin starts crying, complaining about how painful it is to keep healing and healing and healing, that the poison is running havoc and she’s scrambling to keep up with it.

Temari looks down at him as she asks: “Do you want to tell the Uchiha that you couldn’t save his wife’s life because you were too weak?”

They feed of soldier pills and water and Temari’s Chakra’s running so low they almost crash into the wall surrounding Konoha but the messenger Hawk was worked wonders, Sakura’s waiting at the doors, her hands already glowing green.

She knows she’s supposed to leave for the Hokage, give a report, defend her decision, but she can’t. She can’t just leave her now, her hand still wrapped in hers. 

At the hospital, Sasuke waits with a face made of stone. He’s silent but his eyes beg for answers that Temari doesn#t have. She tries to explain nonetheless, unable to think anything beyond “If it were me, I’d want to know.”

Shikamaru comes to get her, a gentle hand on the small of her back, worry etched into his face.

The worry runs deeper when she insists on going back to the hospital righter after their - brief - meeting with the Hokage.

There’s only one with the information necessary to understand what happened and that person is currently in a coma.

Temari can’t do anything but watch. 

How Sasuke is a quiet presence, seemingly never blinking, just there. He’s by her side, holding her hand, but he’s also at the side, a still presence near the windows, not in the way but never leaving. She didn’t know what she expected him to be like in a situation like this but she realizes that she’d thought him louder, threatening the world over the pain he’s experiencing now.

But he’s quiet, set in stone, never once muttering a word even when Sakura comes to give them the news.

-

Shikamaru has never been a fan of Sasuke. 

Not during academy days, not after and certainly not when he left Konoha and all the time that followed.

He likes to think that he’d been of the hardest critics to convince to let him stay and becom a Konoha Shinobi again - but he knows that’s a lie because he’d never be harder than the elders.

He’d wished him to stay away in his youth, to find whatever he was looking for and never come back bothering them when he grew a bit more empathic.

Now, that he knows what love is and what loss feels like, he wishes for someone or something to ease the pain. 

As Shinobi they are trained not to fear death. They encounter it everyday, wether they kill or get killed. Or, even worse, survive the death of those they love.

But this is different.

The fox isn’t dead. Yet. Temari had relayed everything to him that day, after being awake for more than 24 hours, after traveling such a distance, Chakra almost depleted, uncertain about the status of their mission. But Temari had not even a scratch on her and her teammate was fighting for her life, a poison still unknown on a warpath through her body.

Shikamaru can’t help but to think that it could have been Temari who’d been hit. None of her teammates can travel such a distance in the same time. She would have died far away from him without the help of Sakura and Tsunade and he would have been none the wiser.

It makes him go out and sit with the deer while Temari rests, makes his brain go through book after book that he’s read, through mission reports and plans.

He comes up empty handed but that doesn’t stop him.

Sasuke will never know that the reason there’s a second bed in the room now, positioned just right so that he can rest while holding her hand, is because of Shikamaru.

He will never know that Kankuro rushed to Konoha with a group of poison experts because he told the Hokage he would leave Konoha if he didn’t call for him.

He doesn’t have to know. 

Because when those eyes open again and Sasuke’s face finally relaxes, like a stone wall crumbling under the weight of relief, Shikamaru understands.

He’s never been a fan of Sasuke, he’d never do the things the other man did.

But he understands, the way he feels, the way he loves, even. 

And when a black eye flickers back to him, Shikamaru doesn’t dare to roll his eyes and mutter about things being troublesome. Because he knows, should their places ever be reversed, Sasuke would do the same for him.

-

Shino has never understood the appeal of alcohol.

It’s poisonous to him and it certainly is poisonous to others, just in a lesser degree.

Why anyone would willingly consume something that makes them change so drastically in their personality - he’s heard about Lee and it made him swear off it even more - is beyond him.

Why they serve it on occasions as happy as a wedding is even more of a mystery to him.

Don’t they want to remember this happy occasions?

He glances over to the table where Temari is downing another sake, her now husband leaning into her, flushed and relaxed from either the alcohol or just being himself.

It had been a great party, a happy occasion that had both the Hokage and the Kazekage bless them with their presence.

Now, after the food, most people were either drinking and telling stories or drinking and dancing and with a glance towards the dance floor where Kiba was twirling Sakura around with more force than strictly necessary, he directed himself towards the tables. 

Surely there was someone not drunk around who he could sit with now that his table had been turned into a make shift arm wrestling tournament by Lee and, surprisingly, the Kazekage.

He found them in the corner, almost completely hidden by a giant flower arrangement that looked like Temari - no doubt Ino’s work. Sasuke and his fiance, Shino was still trying to remember her name as everyone seemd to call her the fox anyway, sat with their faces towards the dance floor, hands joined on the table, seemingly deep in thought.

That’s right. She wasn’t allowed to drink so soon after being released from the hospital.

And wasn’t their own wedding next week? He hoped there would be less alcohol if she wasn’t allowed to drink it anyway and he hoped even more that she’d be stronger by then, less pale as she appeared to be from where he was getting closer.

“Do you mind the company?” He asked and the fox shook her head.

“Too much noise for you?” She asks him and he nods, thankful for her understanding.

Before he can say anything, however, Sasuke leans towards her, his nose brushing her temple.

“Your voice is so beautiful.” He tells her and, Shino has to look a bit closer, he blushes.

“Thank you.” She addresses her fiance flatly and smiles at Shino. 

He blinks, unable to say something else before Sasuke speaks again.

“You’re really beautiful. Your hair smells so nice.” He dips his nose into her hair and inhales loudly, followed by a sigh.

“He’s a bit tipsy.” The fox explains and uses her free hand to gently pat Sasuke’s arm.

“We’re going to go home soon.”

“You’re so lovely.” 

It’s Shino’s turn to blush, realizing belatedly that he’d judged Sasuke wrong all these years. 

Where he had thought the other cold and uncaring, he seemed to be a lot like him, his emotions shielded from the outside. But while the Aburame could do that with a coat and an army of bugs, the Uchiha weren’t given that ease of mind.

He wanted to say something to explain his understanding but dark eyes flicker to him, telling him not to. Red drops of glass twinkle in the lights as she shakes her head softly.

“I think you’ll have to excuse us, Shino.” She tells him softly. “He needs to get home.”

“I’ll see you-” He stops himself when he doesn’t know when that is. Is “soon” a good term here?

“Tomorrow?” Theres something like a smile on her lips as she stands up, Sasuke’s head now heavy on her shoulder where he gazes up at her with lovestruck eyes.

“We’d love to have you for tea if you’d like. We’re a quiet bunch and I think you wouldn’t mind.”

He nods, surprised at the sentiment. As far as he knows, there have been only four people been invited to the newly built Uchiha household at the lake and two of them, Sakura and Naruto, have bursted through the doors on their own accord.

“I’d love to.” He tells her and opens his mouth again to ask for the best time when a strong arm moves around his waist and a head drops onto his shoulder.

“There you are.” Tenten blinks up at him like she’s a cat that’s found a mouse. “I’ve been looking for you.”

He wonders if he can blame his blush on the alcohol and looks to the other couple for help or at least a moment of calm to gather himself but they’ve disappeared, not a trace left of them.

“Want to go to my place?” Tenten asks, her voice nowhere near the whisper she was intending it to be.

He wants to say no, that they shouldn’t leave a wedding early but he also thinks of Sasuke’s cool demeanor cracked by someone who knows him so well they don’t mind how weird he might get and his hands find hers.

“Let’s go to my place.” He says instead, “I want you to get to know me.”

-

When they find out that Hinata’s pregnant, Naruto thinks of the two people he wants to tell. Iruka’s going to be away for the day, teaching yet another class the importance of chakra control, but Sasuke’s probably home, training or repairing the wooden deck overlooking the Uchiha lake. 

Naruto’s right, but Sasuke has gotten predictable lately. 

He’s also gotten more open to help, which means nothing more than to be ordered about and called Teme more or less affectionately when Naruto narrowly misses his thumb as he puts a nail deep into the dark wood.

“Why are you here anway?” Sasuke asks at some point, “Doesn’t Hinata want you around when you’re off mission?”

Naruto opens his mouth and closes it, looking out the lake for a second. He’d been bursting with the news when he arrived, stalled by the apparent need for help and now there’s something new, a feeling like being in a chokehold, fighting for life.

Kyuubi’s not really helpful there, telling him that he’s afraid in the same tone one would tell off an idiot.

“Do you think I’d be a good father?” He asks instead, the question slipping out of his mouth like a snake out of hiding, ready to bite.

Sasuke halts, hammer in the air. He drops it slowly and turns, a feeling in his visible eye that’s so out of place there, Naruto needs a moment to recognize it. It’s fear.

“How…” Sasuke clears his throat awkwardly. “How far along is Hinata?”

“Estimated birth date is at the end of march. Why?”

“Ours too.” 

Something clatters to the ground and Naruto belatedly realizes that he’s dropped his tools, the impact leaving a dent in the wood in the form of a smile. He dips his fingers into it, lets it ground him as he thoughts run through him.

“Boy or girl?” He asks, his voice raw.

“We don’t know yet. The kid’s pretty stubborn and refuses to move.” Sasuke lets out a laugh, the sound almost shivering in the air.

Silence falls between them until Naruto speaks, unable to process his thoughts quietly.

“I’m so freaking scared.”

“Shitless, yeah.” Sasuke admits as well. “My father wasn’t…” He winces instead of ending his sentence and Naruto nods.

“Mine wasn’t even there”

“But Iruka?”

Naruto furrows his brows. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Don’t you have Iruka as a role model? Wouldn’t he be like a granddad as well?”

“And you’re taking Itachi as your role model?”

It sounded like a great idea at first, remembering what Sasuke has told him about his brother since he’s came back to Konoha. But as the words leave his lips he realizes how wrong the sound.

Sasuke chuckles lowly. “Yes, I’ll kill and betray to show my love…” He hesitates for a moment before laughing softly again. “But I guess he wasn’t the worst role model. And if either of us fucks up as a father, we’ll have each other to keep us in check.”

Naruto smiles, can feel it crack open the cast that fear has left him in. 

“And we’ve got our wifes, too. You will be a great father, Dattebayo!”

Sasuke throws him a look and rolls his eyes for a moment before nodding. 

“So will you. I won’t let you be anything else.”

-

Chouji had been running errands when he’d seen them hurry towards the hospital, Sasuke’s face paler than his wife, rushing through the streets like there was Barbeque waiting for them somewhere.

He wasn’t one to be worried easily but he still remembered that mission too clearly not to be worried. Besides wasn’t her due date around the corner?

Chouji put the vegetables away and raced after them, reaching them just as they entered the hospital.

“Everything okay?”

“No.” Sasuke pressed out, “She’s going into labor.”

Chouji blinks in surprise and looks at the woman in question who seems a bit flushed from the brisk walk but otherwise not that worried. Just a little in pain.

She flinches and Sasuke calls for Sakura, his voice so much louder than he usually is.

“Relax.” Thin, scarred fingers weaves themselves in between his and squeeze.

She throws Chouji a smile, pulling his eyes from their intertwined hands up to her eyes and keeping her there.

“How’s Chouchou?”

“Oh.” Chouji turns to show them the sleeping bundle tied to his back. “She*s knocked out from lunch. And soon you’ll have your own bundle to hold. Have you come up with a name yet?”

“Sasuke.” She turns to him, squeezing his hand again, head knocking against his shoulder when he’s still as stiff as a board. “Everything will be fine. Let’s talk to to Chouji a bit while we wait.”

“You’re in pain.”

“Yeah.” She smiled, “But that’s normal. We’re at the hospital. They know what they’re doing.”

Chouji stays with them. 

At first it was a bit of curiosity. He didn’t have any other plans for today but buy groceries and keep his daughter happy until his wife returned home.

When Couchou woke up and demanded her bottle he considered leaving them but by that time Sasuke had been pushed out of the examination room and he seemed too much a worried wreck to be left alone.

“Can you hold her for a moment?” Chouji plopped his daughter onto Sasuke’s arm, fully trusting the power of her big golden eyes to work magic on him. And he’s right.

She grabs a hold of his shirt immediately, pulling herself up to examine his pale face and dark hair. 

Chouji doesn’t waste the chance he’s been giving, prepping yet another bottle and pulling a few bags of snacks for both him, his daughter and maybe Sasuke, if he can convince the man to keep anything down.

“You wanna give her the bottle?” He holds it out for Sasuke before he realizes that the guy can’t, by all means, hold both the baby and the bottle with only one arm.

“Shit, sorry.” 

Choucho solves that problem before Sasuke can even answer, his little genius daughter grabbing the bottle from Chouji’s hands and going ham on it, leaning back in Sasuke’s arm to drink easier. 

Sasuke looks down at her and there’s something in his eyes that Chouji knows so well. 

As if he’s just realized that the world turns just for that, for the little girls and boys that they’re allowed to hold.

Someone clears their throat behind them and they turn to look at Sakura, arms crossed, leaning in the doorway.

“It’s gong to take a bit, but you’re allowed in now. Just stay calm, please.”

“You’re working already?” Chouji asks, surprised.

“Kiba’s looking after the puppy.” Sakura jokes. “I’m just here for Sasuke. He’d call me either way.”

“Thank you.” Sasuke tells her with his usual seriousness before turning to Chouji. 

“Do you want to stay?”

He doesn’t but Sasuke has never asked him something like that before. And with all the snacks and games he has in his bag he’s sure that even Chouchou won’t mind staying for a few more hours.

And when Sarada is born, the tiny body placed on her mothers chest and Sasuke curled around the two of them like a giant black blanket, Chouji steps outside with a smiling Sakura, the two of them definitely not misty eyed.

Who would have known, he thinks, that loving someone allowed Sasuke to become human, imperfect, open to the possibility of others being there for him..

-

“What’s my favorite grandchild doing?” 

Kakashi’s voice rings through the house and Sarada giggles loudly as she hides behind her father.

“Aha!” He pokes his head through the door, locating her easily where her small hands hold onto his trousers. “Found you.”

“Noooooo!” She whines and runs off for another hiding place, presumably somewhere behind her mother.

“What brings you here?” Sasuke’s dipping his paint brush in, careful not to drip as he pains the wall a light blue.

“Ah. Can’t I come in for a surprise visit?”

“You can, but since when do you do that on business hours?”

“Do you need help?”

“Hm…” Sasuke glares at him before nodding towards some boxes in the corner. “You can set up the bed. Shikamaru delivered it but he refuses to build it back together.”

“Oh, you got Shikadai’s old bed? You sure the genius and laziness won’t transfer?”

“I don’t think Itachi will let himself be manipulated by a bed but thanks for the input.”

“Oh…” Kakashi halts over the open boxes to look back at Sasuke. 

His shoulders are relaxed as he paints, the name dripping from his mouth like it’s no longer blood but something sweeter.

“You’ve decided on a name already?”

“We knew it would be Itachi when we had Sarada. He’s just nice enough to show us his gender right away.”

“Huh. You could have called him Kakashi, you know. That would have been noble, to name him after the Hokage.”

Sasuke laughs, a sound so open and unreserved that Kakashi has to watch him again,.

“People will talk.” He says dipping his brush again. “But I don’t really care how other people see us.”

“Yeah.” Kakashi nods as he resigns himself to the fate of building that darned bed. “It’s more important how you see yourself.”

And he guesses that he’s right about that but he’s always been better at judging others than himself.

But as he watches his former student paint, only interrupted by Sarada running through the rooms from time to time, calling for her Papa or her Grampa, as she calls Kakashi affectionately, he decided that there’s no real need to mention what he really came for.

He can ask Shikamaru tomorrow if that six month mission is really that important for Sasuke to miss the birth of his second child.

And if it is so important to send a Sharingan user, there’s still him to send. He could take Guy with him, annoy Tsunade with having to be back up Hokage again or even let Naruto try his hand at the business.

He looks back to Sasuke again, considers the words and swallows them back down again.

He doesn’t have to tell the boy that he considers him his son. Sasuke already knows.

-

Through their own eyes…

“Papa?” Sarada comes into the room carrying her snuggle blanket.

“Yeah?”

“Is Mama back yet?”

“No. You wanna sit with us? Itachi got hungry.”

“Okay.” She climbs up on the upholstered bench overlooking the lake, cuddling into his side in the coolness of the night.

“Are you worried, Papa?”

“Mhm, a little bit. But I’m always worried.”

She's quiet for a bit until Itachi lets go of his bottle to take a breath and the bottle slides down his soft belly towards his legs. 

Sarada giggles, takes the bottle and brings it up to his lips again. 

“Here, otouto.”

“Can I hold him, Papa?”

“Sure, but gently.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Of course.”

“Come here Itachi.” She pulls him from Sasuke’s arm, the little boy immediately settling into her warmth.

Sasuke could be content like this, watching his kids love each other so effortlessly. But there’s another presence missing his perfect moment. 

He’d been a worrier before but ever since that fateful mission he’s been so much worse at waiting for her to return.

Something shifts in the air and he can see the shiver running down Sarada’s back as she feels it to.

He smiles. “Mama just came back.” He tells her softly just as someone drops softly on the deck behind them.

Sasuke doesn’t have to look to know but he looks nonetheless, drinking in the body peeling itself out of the dark, the fox mask giving way to a familiar, well-loved face.

“Hi.” 

She looks tired and Sasuke’s at her side immediately, fingers roaming over her body to look for injuries.

“I’m fine. Just tired.” She laughs into his kiss, smells like cold air and the dampness of a forest.

He releases her and she squeezes his hand one more time before side stepping him to get to Sarada.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, lovely?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” She giggles as her mother drops a kiss on her forehead. “Itachi is hungry.”

“That he is and it’s so nice of you to feed him. If he’s too heavy I can take him and then we get the both of you back into bed, what do you say?”

“Are you gong to be home tomorrow when I wake up?”

“Absolutely. We can swim a bit if you want.”

“Really?”

“After training, yes.”

Sasuke watches them leave for the bedrooms, knows that Sarada wants her mother for herself for a minute.

He’s gotten progressively more tired by the time his wife walks back outside.

“I need to deliver my mission report. Temari wanted to check in on Shikamaru and Shikadai too before we meet up for the report.”

“No one got hurt?” 

She eyes him warily before opening her coat to reveal a bandage on her side.

“It’s just a scratch.” She reassures him when he takes a deep breath to ground himself. “No poison. We checked three times.”

“You’re going to the hospital…”

“Tomorrow, okay?”

“No. right away. I mean after the mission report. I’m serious.”

“Okay, serious.” She leans forward to peck his lips. “Don’t hit me in your sleep again, there’s only one woman crawling into your bed while you sleep.”

-

As she walks the road back to their house with a fresh bandage on, she thinks about the difference between what they are and what they seem.

The Uchiha’s are known for being cold and conniving, but Sasuke is caring, ready to defend his friends, ready to loose a night of sleep or an hour of work to help, even when he hasn’t been asked for it.

The Uchiha’s are geniuses, known for their hard and intense training regimen and brutal teachers.

But as she walks up the step towards your door, there’s a multitude of signs that Sasuke has painted with Sarada, each representing a different job she was aiming for.

There’s the bright red “Future Kazekage” sign from when she had a crush on Gaara and the deep purple “Future Academy teacher” she made after being babysat by Shino and Tenten.

Never has he told her that her wish is too outlandish or got sad over the choice of her day - not even when she declared that she’d marry Boruto one day. 

The Uchiha’s don’t show weakness, know no pain.

But there’s Sasuke, who’s built up this house himself to repent, who cried when he put up the Uchiha sign, who’s named his son after his brother.

There’s Sasuke, who’s okay with the fact that the whole hospital has seen him cry when his children were born. Who keeps the light on when she isn’t home, who touches the little dent in the wood that Naruto made everyday to remind himself that he’s here, this is real, he’s loved.

There’s Sasuke who’s still awake as she steps into the bedroom, even though his eyes are only half open now and he groans as she settles against him.

His hands find the bandage on her side and he probes it carefully.

“I’m fine.” She tells him again, “You’ll probably die before me.”

“We’ll die together.” He tells her off. “After we’ve gotten like, one hundred years old.”

“Sure. You’ll be so cute when all your teeth fell out.”

“Hush.” He kisses her softly, tentatively, as if still asking for permission.

“Anything that I missed?” She asks when he drops back into the pillows.

“Sarada’s  currently obsessed with Chouji again. She wants to learn cooking.”

“Not against that. Did Iruka say something?”

“Mhm. They’re going to be discussing Clan’s soon.”

“Ah.” She smooths his furrowed brows. “Don’t worry. She’s smart. She’ll understand.”

A fond smile stretches over his mouth and she waits, knows that he’ll elaborate on his own when he feels like it.

“I am so glad I fell in love with you.”

She rests her head on his chest, listens to his heartbeat and knows.

It doesn’t matter what others think about them.

They know the truth.

-

If you find any mistakes/typos, you can give them back to me, it’s not my first language and I’m happy if I can correct anything.

[mephinomaly]

[TL] Flashback/Epilogue 2

[ This post uses Ois~su ♪ ]

Kaoru: Grandpa was throwing a bit of a tantrum, saying he “hates complicated things”, so for the time being, we’ll just be going by UNDEAD.

Koga: Not much point in usin’ two separate brands. Besides, that criminal came up with HELLSING so I don’t wanna use it. Pisses me off.

Adonis: The delinquent most likely had his own ideas for UNDEAD, which was HELLSING.

Kaoru: Yeah. He was probably like “I can make the best version of UNDEAD!”

But we don’t need his idealised version of UNDEAD, we just need to shine brighter and brighter, as the real us.

Adonis: Easier said than done.

As Hakaze-senpai said earlier, both the radical immoral side and the variety programs side of us can be successful— It wouldn’t be superficial of us to do so.

Koga: It’s fine for us to get rid of one of them though. I, personally, think we should get rid of the variety programs.

Kaoru: You really hate those sorts of jobs, don’t you? …Like I said on stage yesterday, you can gain experience from anywhere.

You can’t grow big and strong if you’re a picky eater, you know?

Koga: Who do you think you are, my parents? Anyway, I get it, but I’m not gonna stop complainin’.

We need to eat everything, even if we don’t like it, so we can grow big and strong.

Kaoru: That’s the spirit ♪

Let’s do our best, ‘kay? The AIIE experiment was set up in order to trick us, nothing more to it—it almost felt like a dream.

We’ve seen real robots of ourselves and those kids from Ra*bits too.

The fakes were almost identical to the real us. At least, visually.

Technology and AI will only improve from here, and AI idols will become even more realistic.

Rei: Umu. That is how it seems to be progressing.

Kaoru: Oh? I didn’t see you so I thought you’d had an early morning bath? But then I didn’t see you in the bathroom either…?

Rei: Nay, I was enjoying the peaceful bliss of the early morning by taking a stroll.

I spoke with some neighbours who were also awake at this time, and once I grew tired, I basked in the sun on a nearby bench…

Kaoru: You actually act so much like an old man. You get more and more senile as the years go because of some character you force yourself to play.

Rei: Rather, I used to force myself to act young. I feel more comfortable now than I did back then. I am showing my true colours.

Of course, those who caught a glimpse of the previous me will have seen the immaturity in me, befitting of my young age at the time.

Anyhow. I apologise for interrupting, but I do believe you should keep Kaoru-kun’s worries in the back of your minds.

Humanity continues to evolve, scientific capability is growing ever closer to the abilities of a god.

Robotics, AI, VR— artificial idols will be comprised of those parts.

Then when non-human creatures rise in strength, and become stronger than humans, when monsters arise, when they become the new normal—

What value do humans have, other than being authentic beings?

Will we become pieces of art, displayed in museums for all to see, rather than something a part of your everyday life?

I do not know what the future holds, but that future is fast approaching.

We stand at a crossroads.

If we give up, we die where we stand. We must explore and search for what it means to be human.

We must demonstrate time and time again the value of being loved.

Otherwise, we can easily fall into the position our criminal was in.

A foolish, pitiful creature that can only look into the distance and envy how bright others shine.

What happens to one today may happen to another tomorrow. But I am not so pessimistic.

We are alive.

If we continue to live and grow, we have no reason to fear this lifetime.

That is the strength and beauty of being human.

Let us drive away our abhorrent past, and our anxiety-inducing nightmares alongside it. Let us step into the day with a smile on our faces.

～...♪

[ ☆ ]

Epilogue 1

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