near border


Chiapas’ earthquake

As some of you might know, last night, around 23:50 h, one of the most powerful earthquakes ever recorded in Mexico struck off the country’s southern coast. The earthquake hit off Chiapas state near the Guatemalan border with a 8.2 magnitude. It was slightly stronger than the 1985 quake, that destroyed Mexico City.

President Enrique Peña Nieto stated that at least 31 people were killed and over 200 were injured due the quake. Many people in Chiapas and Oaxaca have lost their homes. Both states have declared STATE OF EMERGENCY.

The effects were also felt in Guatemala, where at least one person died and homes along the border with Mexico were leveled

So far, 266 aftershocks have been registered. The last one happened today at 6:28 h, with a 6.1 magnitude.

Most affected towns in Oaxaca: Juchitán, Matías Romero, Unión Hidalgo, San Dionisio del Mar, Asunción Ixtaltepec, Santa María Xadani, Santiago Niltepec, Santo Domingo, Ingenio, El Espinal, Tehuantepec, Salina Cruz and other communities.

Juchitan’s city councilor, Pamela Terán, asked the state and federal authorities for help.“We urgently need as much help as you can send,” she said. “We need hands and manpower to try and dig out the people that we know are buried under the rubble.”

Schools in at least 10 Mexican states and in Mexico City were closed on Friday as the president ordered an immediate assessment of the damage nationwide. 

TSUNAMI ALERT in Oaxaca has been cancelled, and REDIRECTED to Guerrero.

Katia in Veracruz

Katia is now a category 2 hurricane and will land on Veracruz coast tonight.

Said state and Tampico, Tamaulipas are now under constant vigilance.

Intense storms are expected in Puebla, Tamaulipas, San Luis Potosí, Hidalgo, Tlaxcala, Oaxaca, Tabasco y Chiapas, Estado de México, Ciudad de México y Morelos.

Also, Mexico City is also in alert due to the constant raining; most streets are now under water. Many people have lost their homes. Rivers are flooding and there has been several subsidences all over the city’s streets. Until now, two people have perished. 

Mexico’s emergency numbers

9-1-1. National number for medical, civil protection, security and public services emergencies.

Below the cut, numbers and bank accounts to help. If you can and want to help, please let me know your state/city’s food bank or collection center location.

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The oilbird (Steatornis caripensis), locally known as the guácharo, is a bird species found in the northern areas of South America including the island of Trinidad. It is the only species in the genus Steatornis and the family Steatornithidae. Nesting in colonies in caves, oilbirds are nocturnal feeders on the fruits of the oil palm and tropical laurels. They are the only nocturnal flying fruit-eating birds in the world. They forage at night, with specially adapted eyesight. However they navigate by echolocation in the same way as bats, and are one of the few kinds of birds known to do so.

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Royal Canadian Mounted Police are reporting a flurry of illegal crossings into Canada in recent months. Officials say Quebec province has seen the highest influx of people seeking asylum, with many crossing in snowy, remote areas in northern New York.

One illegal crossing area that has become particularly popular among immigrants is in Champlain, N.Y., in the northeast corner of the state.

At the end of Roxham Road, there’s a big dead end and a “Road Closed” sign — but there’s also a very heavily trafficked, trodden route through the snow that goes over into Canada. From the ditch, the border is about 15 feet away — and the Mounties, the Canadian police, wait on their side for those who will cross the border next.

Migrants Choose Arrest In Canada Over Staying In The U.S.

Photos: Kathleen Masterson/VPR

This laughter epidemic that shut down 14 schools

On Jan. 30, 1962, at a boarding school near Tanzania’s border with Uganda, three girls started laughing uncontrollably. The laughter fit spread throughout the school, affecting 95 students. This laughing epidemic forced the school to temporarily close, and the students were sent home. It spread to nearby villages and finally died off after 18 months.

In total, 14 schools shut down and over 1,000 people were affected. The cause of the epidemic was hypothesized to be stress.

Link to the Guardian article

Text source

Fourth of July Explained for Non-Americans

The Fourth of July is the holiday on which Americans give thanks twice as much to George Washington, George Bush, George Herbert Walker Bush, and Jimmy Carter.

One common American tradition on the Fourth of July is that of the Presidential Prayer Beads. At dinner time, one family member takes out a bracelet with 45 beads and uses it to help name each president and their role in building America. Every time the country elects a new President, families add a bead to their bracelet. Highly observant families also have bracelets devoted to the number of states, Constitutional Amendments, and Sessions of Congress.

Families settle down to the Independence Dinner after they finish counting and reciting all their beads and praying to each president. There is no single type of Independence Dinner. This reflects how America is a melting pot or tossed salad of different cultures and ways of life. In fact, that’s just what a lot of Americans do: they serve melting pots and tossed salads, but what’s in those meals differs with each region, city, or even neighborhood!

During the Independence Dinner, all Americans have their tv, radio, or web browsers open, listening for the First Bite made by the president. It’s customary that no one in the family starts eating until the President takes a bite of his or her own dinner, which has been broadcast throughout the country as long as there has been sound recording equipment or word of mouth in the Washington, D.C. It used to be a custom that the President would visit a household and take the First Bite from their dinner, but this ended with the Scalding of 1949.

After the Independence Dinner, Americans set out their lawn chairs on the grass, dirt, balcony, or in front of an open window. They do this to get a perfect view of the Fourth of July Fireworks. If you are staying in America during the Fourth of July, you will not need to travel very far to see the show because they are visible in virtually every part of the country. If an American does not live closer to a fireworks show, there is a good chance that their household plans to hold a fireworks show that year. Many states restrict the sale of fireworks, but if an American goes to a store and says I am holding a Fourth of July Fireworks show the law enforcement will usually look the other way. In major cities, this is less important because the town government will pay for the fireworks show.

When the Fourth of July Fireworks end, most Americans go to sleep. All burnt fireworks are recycled and all unused fireworks are sold back to retail stores at half price. If an American lives near the border with Mexico or Canada, they may cross the border to spread the festivities.

I hope this has been helpful. Criticisms and questions are welcome. If I missed something, please let me know. Happy Fourth of July!


Even before Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo carved it in blood, the 224-mile border dividing the island of Hispaniola between Haiti and the Dominican Republic was complicated. Tensions between the two countries stemmed back to a 19th century war. But in many ways, the border, which existed mostly on paper, was a notably seamless site: Children crossed back and forth freely to go to school on one side and home on the other. Sprawling cattle ranches spanned the divide, and Dominicans and Haitians mingled and intermarried frequently.

That ended on Oct. 2, 1937, when the Dominican military, under Trujillo’s orders, began to execute Haitian families as well as Dominicans of Haitian descent. The killings, many of which took place in the border region, were mostly carried out by machete to help sell the regime’s official account that the massacre was a spontaneous uprising of patriotic Dominican farmers against Haitian cattle thieves.

The killing lasted between five and eight days. Afterward, there was a moratorium on newspapers covering the massacre, and Trujillo refused to publicly admit his government’s role or accept responsibility.

After the dictator was assassinated in 1961, researchers began to investigate what had been an off-limits subject, conducting interviews, digging through documents and putting together the pieces of what happened. Estimates of the number of dead still vary widely — from less than 1,000 to 30,000. Mass graves were never found.

Commonly known as the Parsley Massacre — Haitians and Dominicans pronounce the Spanish word perejil differently and, according to a popular though unconfirmed story, this was used as a litmus test of their origins — the killings are now acknowledged by Dominican society at large and taught in schools. But in many ways, the massacre remains a historical footnote, seen as an uncomfortable reminder of a brutal past.

80 Years On, Dominicans And Haitians Revisit Painful Memories Of ‘Parsley Massacre’

Photos: Tatiana Fernandez for Latino USA

Liberty Pt.1

Originally posted by kingsebastian

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe

Characters:  Bucky Barnes, Natalia Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker

Warnings for this fic: Angst, eventual smut in future chapters (slow burn), running away, profanity, violence.

Word count for this chapter: 1,759 (IM SORRY)

Captain James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was a peculiar man, how he sailed the seas for most of his 27 years. He was born at sea, he would most likely die at sea. All pirates, including those in the farthest corners of the maps, had heard of the infamous Captain. You? You were the governor’s daughter, secretly hoping to be taken out to seas and to be set free.


Why are you looking at me like that, dear?” Your father asked, his face bearing confusion.

Oh, do excuse me father, I was.. day dreaming… may I be excused from the dinner table?” Your father gave you a curt nod as you exited the dining hall. Your father was a Governor, therefore you lived in a luxury house, big enough to fit a whole crew of men, you could wonder the premises for hours, but growing up doing just that deemed you bored, trapped even.

Living in Port Royal gave you barely any benefits, indeed, there were beautiful landscapes to be painted, warm sand beaches to be walked upon, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to explore further than the village fences, the harbor docks, into the sea that waved at you, tempting you to come closer, closer. You would give anything to be set free of the corsets and the courtship, to be free to roam the ocean as you please, discovering new places and the thrill of being a…nevermind.

You had heard stories of countless pirates, Captain Tony Stark of the Mighty Veronica, a large ship painted crimson and gold, with white sails and cannons filled with such powerful gunpowder one hit from a three barrel could split another vessel in half. From Captain Rogers, an ex-commodore, to Captain Romanoff with co-Captain Barton, better known as the Hawkeye of the seas due to his skills as a perfect shot with a pistol, you had heard extraordinary things from the men that survived on.

As a little girl, you were brought up by the maids in the household as your mother had died during childbirth. You barely left the god-forsaken island, it was very rare to go on even a short voyage with your father and his men, ’having a woman on board is bad luck.’ and only to return empty handed and deprived of proper contact with the outside world.

You were sheltered and innocent, men of the guard pined after for you since you grew a bust and shed your baby fat, you understood the means of their stares after you asked your chambermaid, Marie, what it meant to be a ‘tight little virgin’ as the men would whisper amongst themselves as you walked by. You knew very well what a kiss was, in fact, you had had a kiss indeed, your dear childhood friend Peter Parker had bestowed a secret kiss upon you on your 16th birthday, underneath the main dock, though there was no 'spark’ on your end, therefore you had to tell him that his feelings were unrequited, he never stopped being your friend, though.

You came to know Peter after you had saved his life, he had been thrown overboard from the ship he had been sailing on, alongside his father, had been blown up from the below deck gunpowder barrels.

“Father, look, a boy!” You had gasped, your father had rushed to your side and bellowed man overboard, a team of men upon the vessel had reeled him in and left him under your charge.

He was handsome, to say the least, as your hand brushed his forehead, he grabbed your wrist-

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m watching over you.” You spoke in a hushed tone.

The boy had coughed out a spluttered 'Peter Parker’ before falling unconscious once more.


Bucky Barnes was many things, wealthy, handsome, 'built like god himself’ as some women would say as he swaggered past them in the night, also a skilled thief nonetheless. But he was a shell of a man, plagued by the things he witnessed whilst sailing the doldrums of the ocean. As he moored his ship by the docks of Port Royal he briefly tipped the manager and his assistant a shilling each to keep their mouths shut about him and his men, and that his name was Captain William Pintel, he had ordered his crew to change the sails to white before they got anywhere near the border of the island the sails to white so they could conceal their identities.

He had come to trade, to drink, and maybe get a little bit of action for the night before being on his way to Haiti. He was a wanted man, he had liberated slaves when he was not supposed to, and that resulted in him becoming branded a pirate. The brand grew on him, and he became exactly what he was called, he had grown tired of trying to be the perfect man of the sea and broke the code instead, he sought trouble wherever he went and that was his way of living.

Though Port Royal was not a large area, it was densely populated and it was guarded heavily, with men walking around the village with their guns and bayonets. Bucky had his head hung low as he made his way through the crowds with one of his men, Sam, a man of colour whom Bucky had freed alongside the rest of the slaves.

He needed a sword.


You looked out of your window to see a dark ship rolling towards Port Royal, you could see the white sails calling to you at your bedroom window. The temptation to leave everything behind was screaming at you, beckoning you to go, liberty was practically screaming your name, bobbing up and down, you needed a disguise, you couldn’t board that bloody ship wearing a dress like this, it would blow your cover.

An idea.

You had hastily run to your kitchen and fetched a satchel and filled it with essentials. you escaped out of your household in seconds towards the blacksmiths, where Peter should be. As you neared the large wooden doors of the building, you peaked through the gap and saw nothing, heard nothing, even. So you pushed open the door, he wasn’t there, you checked in the back room where he stayed; nothing, you rummaged through a small crate and found a pair of trousers and a shirt, you slipped off your dress and underclothes and shoved them under the bed, freeing your hair from its pins and letting it fall loosely on your shoulders and changed into the borrowed clothing..

You left the room feeling a little lighter, but a weight fell onto your shoulders as you realized you needed to tell Peter where you were going, being your best friend, he deserved to know, he didn’t deserve to worry. You grabbed a piece of parchment and a bottle of ink and a quill.


I’m sorry but by the time you read this I will be gone, I’m boarding a ship at the dock and never returning, I plan to find a new life, to branch out and roam the world to no end. I hate to leave you behind, I love you very much- the ship is black with white sails, it has a red star on the side also, if you ever need to find me, look for it.

All my love,


P.s. Please, don’t tell my father.

You could heard the door begin to open and you legged it to the back door, you didn’t know who it was but you prayed to the gods it wasn’t Peter, it was too soon, and it was easy for him to spot you in a crowd, he would catch you instantly, so you ran.


Bucky sauntered into the deserted blacksmiths, he peaked around to see if anyone was in there, but it was silent, he could smell the burnt out coal and could tell it had been deserted for hours, though, he came across a freshly written letter and noticed that his ship was mentioned in said letter. He was aware he was a wanted man, what if this was a trap? What if the company knew he was here? Breadcrumbs, you had accidentally left the first, so he took the affects he needed and ran towards his ship.

A girl upon my ship, this should be interesting… Bucky thought to himself.

As he arrived to the dock he could see the red faced manager run to him, “Captain Pintel!! A girl… has boarded… your ship… Sir!!” He huffed, Bucky pushed him aside and climbed onto his vessel, making sure he was as silent as a mouse.

He looked everywhere, and there was no sign of a girl. None of his crew saw a tresspasser, and begin to move the ship out of the dock on captain’s orders.


You tried to still your breathing as you saw the handsome man search upon his ship for the intruder, you were hiding behind a rum barrell as he neared. You could hear his footsteps come to a halt, thinking he had given up, then you felt yourself being yanked up by the collar of your shirt, being pushed again the wall of the ship. His large hand came up and his fingers wrapped around your throat as the other rested against the sword handle on his belt all you could do was stand there.

He was strong, you dared not to move an inch incase he added pressure to the hand on your throat. You mapped his features; dark hair, full lips, tantalizing blue eyes, you realied who this man was, it was Captain James Barnes, the most wanted man on the map, you knew this because you heard stories around the village, from men and women alike.

Well, well, well, what pretty little thing do we have here?” He smirked, bringing a finger to tease one of your locks, “what’s your name, doll?

Y/N Y/L/N, s-sir.” You spluttered, you brought your hands up to try and pry his one off your throat.

Uh-oh.. the Governor’s daughter, hm? Tsk tsk, oh darling, you’re in for a- you shouldn’t dig your nails into my skin, sweetheart, I saw your little letter in the blacksmiths and I won’t hesitate to take you back sweetheart, or maybe… dump you in the middle of the ocean?” He inhaled and tightened his grip around your throat, and narrowed the proximity between both your faces.

Please- Sir I’ll do anything, please just let me come with you.” You hoped he wouldn’t turn out too bad, if he let you stay, but if he didn’t…

Well, miss Y/L/N, welcome aboard the St. Brooklyn…


A/N SOOOO that was the first chapter i hope you like it if people want me to continue im gonna need hella motivation!


Rick and Morty Headcanon #543

Rick C-137’s full name is Ricardo Sanchez. He was born in Mexico, or near the border. English is his second language, but nowadays his Spanish is a tad rusty because no one understands him. Sometimes Morty will come down from his room in the middle of the night and hear Rick mumbling and cursing to himself in Spanish. Sometimes, when Rick’s pissed, he’ll start yelling out random phrases until he realizes no one can understand a word he’s saying.

(submitted by justafandomsuckup)

if you live near the Italian border just cross it, stop some guy, offer him a coffee in exchange to use his phone, vote for Gabbani and then come back to Italy
—  italian presenter flavio insinna being smart about voting techniques

“The situation seems a textbook example of ethnic cleansing,” said Zeid Ra'ad Al Hussein, the U.N. high commissioner for human rights, in a statement.

Over 400,000 Rohingya refugees have fled government violence in Myanmar — where they are a Muslim minority — for Bangladesh. They are straining the capacity of aid agencies on the ground and of the Bangladesh government. And more refugees arrive each day.

They line up from 8 in the morning, says Raihanul Islam Mia, a local government official who is supervising the distribution. It’s taking place at a site on the road from the city of Cox’s Bazar in southern Bangladesh to the town of Tefnaf, near the border with Myanmar.

“More than 10,000 people I’ve given relief today,” says Mia. He’s been at it for 14 days. “They need food,” he says. “And each and every day more Rohingya come from Myanmar.”

Bangladesh Copes With Chaos: Rohingya Refugees Are ‘Coming And Coming’

Photo: Allison Joyce/Getty Images

Death, Amnesia and 4 coffees Please - Batmom x Batfam

Just a random idea I got while walking hope from work. Hope you’ll like it, as usual, feedbacks are very welcomed. 

My masterlist blog :


3 months. 

3 months already since she died…

Jason, just like Alfred, his brothers, and his father just couldn’t get over it. 

He just couldn’t move on with his life without his mother. Without the woman that always stood by him no matter what, even in the worst of moments. 

He was so damn angry at himself that he wasn’t able to save you ! All of them were, the guilt eating them more and more every day…Even though they all knew things went too fast. 

You weren’t the only one that died that day…Thousands lost their life in the almost total destruction of the neighborhood you were born in : The Narrows. 

It was the poorest in Gotham, and you were helping out a charity there when the Batman failed big time, for the first time in his career. 

Ha hadn’t been able to solve the Riddler’s riddle. And for the first time in his life,  Edward Nigma was finally able to fulfill one of his evil plans..Which was the destruction of every single neighborhood of Gotham, one for each riddle the Dark Knight wouldn’t be able to solve. 

And of course, the only one he didn’t find, was the one associated with the only place in Gotham you were in…You, and thousands of other people died. And it was all Batman’s fault. No matter that he was able to save the rest of the inhabitants, the blood of those people were on his hands…

Your blood was on his hands. And, just like Alfred and his sons, he just couldn’t get over your death. They all felt so guilty and angry at themselves that they couldn’t save you…you were always there for them, always by their side, having their back and…they let you down. 

Of course they send you messages telling you to leave Gotham but..You wouldn’t. You stayed because you wanted to help people. According to witnesses, to people who were survivors of the blast, who barely escaped it…the last time they all so you, you were trying to get some kids to safety. 

But no matter how guilty they felt, how devastated they were, it wouldn’t change anything. You were gone. Forever. And once again, Jason Todd found himself wandering the street of Gotham aimlessly, trying to run away from his dark thoughts, trying to grieve you, even though he knew it was actually impossible to ever move from you. 

Staying at the Manor with his brothers and father was…unbearable. 

Alfred kept cleaning the house over and over again, never taking a break, and worst of all…avoiding everything you touched last. Your half finished cup of tea in the library. The books you left open. Your dinner plate still in the sink. Some of your shoes thrown haphazardly in the living room. Your towels in the bathroom. Your jewelry on the kitchen counter, that you left there because you didn’t want to wear anything that’d make people from the Narrows feel uncomfortable around you. Your favorite blanket, still on the floor where you left it, as you realized you were going to be late to the charity event and napping in the couch was now over…Alfred cleaned everything, but avoided touching any of your stuffs. And it was unbearable. 

Dick…Oh it was one of the worst. Jason was used to be the broody and overly-cynical one. Him and his father competed constantly about which one was the broodiest and Dick would just laugh at them and make silly jokes. Jason used to be like that too, making jokes and even able to make the Batman crack a smile…but ever since he came back to life, he lost that. He became darker and meaner. And Dick was kind of his solace, with his cheerful persona and positive attitude. The oldest Wayne boys always been everyone’s beacon of light in the darkest of moments. But your death…your death turned him into a zombie that spend his days looking out of a window, or staring at old pictures of you and him, stuck in memories of you, unable to see his own light…And it was unbearable. 

The only person that could really convince Tim to sleep, to not drink too much coffee, to take care of himself and to socialize was you. A word from you and he’d realize that yes, this was too much and he needed to chill, to go see his friends, to relax…But without you ? Alfred tried, oh he really did try but…Tim wouldn’t listen. You really were the only one to convince him, and he would forever associate all the good things he experienced in life (time with his friends and family, relaxed moment in front of the TV, good nights of sleep etc etc…), with you. Without you ? He just couldn’t…And seeing his little brother destroy himself like so was unbearable to Jason. 

Damian didn’t utter a word since your death. Not even a sound. Him who usually always talked too damn much, and was just so annoying…Nothing. He didn’t brag about anything, he didn’t try to be better than anyone else anymore. He was just…apathetic. He wouldn’t say anything, not even to Dick. He wouldn’t even look at them in the eyes. He spends most of his time in front of your tomb, where he did talk to you. But to others ? No. It’s like he had made a vow of silence and this ? It was unbearable. 

Bruce spend all his time working to avoid thinking about your absence but…Whenever he thought he was alone, whenever he came back to your shared bedroom, half-expecting still to find you there…They could all hear him cry. They could hear him mourn you, inconsolable. And the thought of his father, that he always viewed as invincible, destroyed by you not being there anymore was unbearable. Bruce wasn’t fine, inconsolable. He would forever be inconsolable, he lost the love of his life 3 months ago…

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One dead, three wounded in a High School shooting near Spokane, Washington. Shooter taken into custody. My prayers go to Freeman High School. ❤️

“Michael Harper, 15, a sophomore at the school, told The Associated Press that the suspect was a classmate who had long been obsessed with past school shootings.

Harper said the suspect had brought notes to Freeman High in the beginning of the year, saying he might get killed or jailed and that some students alerted counselors.

The shooter came into the school Wednesday carrying a duffel bag, Harper said. After shots were fired, students went running and screaming down the hallways, the teen said.

Harper said the shooter had many friends and wasn’t bullied, calling him “nice and funny and weird.”

Schaeffer, who didn’t release any information about a possible motive or the age of the suspect, said the shooting was especially hard for first responders, many of whom have children at the school.

A two-lane road into the community of about 500 people near the Idaho border was clogged with vehicles. Some people abandoned their cars on the street to make it to their children.

Cheryl Moser said her son, a freshman at Freeman High School, called her from a classroom after hearing shots fired. He called me and said, ‘Mom, there are gunshots.’ He sounded so scared. I’ve never heard him like that,” Moser told The Spokesman-Review newspaper. “You never think about something happening like this at a small school.”

Providence Sacred Heart Medical Center and Children’s Hospital received three pediatric patients, spokeswoman Nicole Stewart said. They were in stable condition and surrounded by family, she said.

Authorities didn’t immediately release the ages of the victims.

Stephanie Lutje told The Associated Press that she was relieved to hear her son was safe after his high school near Freeman was put on lockdown. She commended the school district for its communication.

“It’s been amazing, within probably 15-20 minutes of hearing about it, I’d already received a phone call, I’d already received a text message saying that their school is OK,” she said.

She still worried for others she knew, including a co-worker who had yet to hear from her son, a sophomore at Freeman.

“My stomach’s in knots right now,” she said.

Gov. Jay Inslee said in a statement that “all Washingtonians are thinking of the victims and their families, and are grateful for the service of school staff and first responders working to keep our students safe."”

Wind!Holly Drabble/Prologue??

Anyway, I had some free time and wrote this- don’t know if it’ll be continued, but maybe… descriptions/names etc. may be changed later if I continue this
Also I don’t know how to add a read more on mobile so just have a line of asterisks rip


A cold night breeze ruffled the tortoiseshell’s pelt as she trotted silently through the forest. Her steps were cautious, her ears pricked, swiveling at the slightest sound. The molly soon heard the quiet gurgle of the border stream, and her step quickened. She reached the water, gently setting a small dark shape between her paws.

“Crowfeather?” She whispered quietly.

“Over here.”

A lithe black form appeared from the shadows, dark amber eyes glinting in the moonlight. He nimbly leapt across the stream, hind paws slipping slightly as he landed. The tortoiseshell sprang forward, rubbing against his cheek with a soft purr. She froze when he didn’t return the gesture.

“Leafpool… we promised we were done. We have to move on. That’s what I’m trying to do, with Nightcloud, with everything. I can’t-”

“No, I understand.” Leafpool swallowed, taking a step back. “You said Nightcloud had kitted a few sunrises ago when I saw you earlier. How many kits? How are they?”

Crowfeather’s gaze softened. “There were two, a tom and she-kit, but the molly died after a few hours.”

“I’m so sorry,” Leafpool said, meaning it. “And the tom?”

“His name is Breezekit. Tiny, scrappy and darker than shadow. Nightcloud won’t let anyone into the nursery, but that’s what I’ve heard. And yours? Lionkit, and, uh, another tom?”

Leafpool chuckled. “Lionkit is fine, and so is Jaykit. But they aren’t why we’re here.”

“No.” Crowfeather agreed. “Hollykit. Where is she?”

A jolt of panic flashed through Leafpool. She took another step back, the beginnings of horror in her eyes. Where was- her paw brushed a soft bundle and she quickly picked up the small black molly by her scruff, almost shaking in relief. For a brief, terrible moment, Leafpool had imagined all of the terrible things that could have happened to Hollykit while she and Crowfeather were talking.

“She looks like me.” Crowfeather said in an awed tone. “Until now, it, uh, hadn’t really sunk in that I was-am- their father. She’s beautiful.”

Leafpool purred, gently setting the she-kit at Crowfeather’s paws. “She’ll blend in well in WindClan. Nightcloud agreed to raise her, right? She won’t tell.”

“She promised. She wants Breezekit to have a sibling. And she has a soft spot for kits. Hollykit will be well cared for.”

“And Jaykit and Lionkit will be looked after as well. Squirrelflight is eager to be their mother, and I’m sure Brambleclaw would be incredibly happy.”

“When will you reach camp?” Crowfeather questioned, nudging a mewing Hollykit closer to him.

“Tomorrow. Squirrelflight is with Lionkit and Jaykit right now, near the border with the unclaimed land. No one knows about the kits yet, so they won’t notice that a kit is missing. And the kits are barely a moon old; they can’t say anything.

A pause.

“Its- I should go. We’ve been here too long.” Leafpool said uncertainly.

Crowfeather sighed. The lanky black tom touched noses with Leafpool sadly. “Thank you, Leafpool. It was nice to see you again. And I’ll make sure Hollykit is loved and happy. Take care.”

For a moment, time was still. The dappled tortoiseshell and black tom stood quietly, pelts brushing, eyes closed, breathing in each other’s scent. Crowfeather took a step back, carefully picked up his daughter by her scruff and disappeared into the night.

Leafpool stood a moment longer, loss shining in her eyes.

thefoundationproject  asked:

Not necessarily AU but I've always wanted to see new jounin!Orochimaru experiencing his first sudden massive crush the first time he meets/works with Sakumo. His teammates are alarmed and amused.

Something’s up with Orochimaru.

Tsunade doesn’t have to be a genius to see that much, though knowing him well probably helps. He’s been…quiet. Quieter than normal, and Orochimaru’s reserved but never exactly shy, but he’s still entirely failed to speak up the last few days when Sarutobi calls meetings or assembles the jounin for deployment. Which is just weird, because Orochimaru’s never one to sit on his ideas when they could help with the war effort.

Eyeing him carefully, she leans back against the tree they’re sitting under, a few yards from the entrance to one of the training grounds. Jiraiya’s on her other side, talking loudly about something she’ll probably want to hit him for if she pays attention—she knows that tone all too well—but for once Orochimaru isn’t listening to their teammate, either. Usually one of Jiraiya’s rants will include Orochimaru rolling his eyes at least once every three minutes, but Orochimaru hasn’t even glanced over. All of his attention is on the road, and he keeps casting quick-flickering glances back towards the village.

Very suspicious, Tsunade thinks.

“Deploying the bulk of the jounin near the Ame border seems like a risk,” she says.

It’s a mild test, but Orochimaru’s lip immediately curls in disgust. He digs into his egg custard with more force than is strictly required and bites out, “It’s ridiculous. Ame’s geography favors Iwa, given the amount of open land, and we don’t have the numbers to make up for their advantage.”

That’s about what Tsunade was thinking. “Funny you didn’t say that, though,” she says mildly, and Orochimaru goes very, very still. “I’ve never known you to sit on an opinion before.”

If she isn’t utterly mistaken, there’s a flush rising in Orochimaru’s pale cheeks, one she only ever used to see when Jiraiya was being especially handsy during their genin days. It’s been a long time since Orochimaru got over that particular crush, and Tsunade stares at him now, at the averted eyes and rising color and aggrieved slant to his mouth, and feels glee bubbling up inside of her.

Really?” she says, delighted. “Who?”

Because if Orochimaru was too busy staring at the object of his affection to even criticize shoddy tactics, he’s already in deep. Tsunade hasn’t noticed him lingering around anyone, but there has to be someone.

“What?” Jiraiya says, baffled, finally catching up to their conversation. “What are we talking about?”

“Orochimaru has a crush,” Tsunade says, and after all the grief Orochimaru and Jiraiya have given her for Dan, she has no compunction sharing the information.

Jiraiya’s jaw drops. “What? Bastard, no, no no no no.” He waves his hands desperately. “You don’t get to do that. No way. Not an option.”

Orochimaru rolls his eyes and gives Tsunade a look that promises retribution. She just grins back, all teeth, and silently dares him to try it. “What, having human emotions?” he demands testily.

“Yes!” Jiraiya squawks, leveling a finger in his face. Orochimaru eyes it like he’s considering what diseases he’ll get if he tries to bite it off, and whether they’re worth it. “And sex! You’re not allowed to have sex! And especially not before me, okay?”

Aha, vindication. “I knew you hadn’t slept with Ruri!” Tsunade says triumphantly, rounding on him. “You bastard, you told me you were dating and you’d slept together and you were lying!”

Jiraiya blanches, then flushes crimson all the way down to his fishnets. “I—you—I did not!” he splutters. “Third base, we got to third base, it counts—!”

“You’re still a virgin this is so fitting—”

“I should have buried you both in the forest when we were genin,” Orochimaru says with absolute disgust, getting ready to push to his feet. “I hate you both.”

He’s a skinny, scrawny thing, and it’s the work of half a second for Tsunade to pick him up, drag him across her lap, and plop him down squarely between herself and Jiraiya. “Oh no,” she warns, looping an arm around his waist and pinning him there. “You still haven’t told us who it is, don’t even think about escaping.”

Always ready to redirect Tsunade’s attention to torturing someone else, Jiraiya agreeably slings an arm over Orochimaru’s shoulders. “Yeah, what she said,” he agrees. “Is it that Hyuuga jounin? With a the scar? Oh, what about the Morino woman? She’s sexy.”

“Yuuhi,” Tsunade chimes in. “He’s handsome, if you like the craggy old-soldier type.”

“Let me go,” Orochimaru protests, twisting between them, but he hasn’t pulled out a weapon or a snake yet, so he clearly isn’t trying that hard to escape. Tsunade smirks at him, and it’s only because she’s looking him in the face that she sees the quick, furtive flicker of his eyes to the road, the way they widen slightly.

Oho, Tsunade thinks gleefully, turning to look for who’s coming. Just one figure, halfway across the bridge and heading for the training ground, and suddenly it’s a lot clearer just why Orochimaru casually suggested they eat in this spot.

“Hatake,” she guesses lazily, and Orochimaru shoot her a look of pure alarm and makes her grin. He casts another vaguely desperate look at the white-haired man approaching, and oh, now everything makes sense. Orochimaru had looked like he was paying attention at the meeting, because Sakumo was at the very front, discussing deployment with Sarutobi. He’d been standing near the Hokage, giving Orochimaru the freedom to stare at him the whole time, and Tsunade hadn’t even noticed.

She’s not about to let it go now, though.

Sakumo?” Jiraiya yelps, and Orochimaru lunges like he’s going to rip out his vocal cords, only for Tsunade to haul him back before any damage can be done. “You have a crush on my friend?”

“Despite his taste in companions,” Orochimaru says bitingly, “he has several redeeming qualities. Tsunade, remove your hand or I will remove it for you­—”

Tsunade leans in, smacks a loud, showy kiss against one pale cheek, and says, “You’ll thank me for this later.”

Orochimaru loses about four shades of color from his face, and opens his mouth to start what will probably be a massively destructive jutsu. Never slow for long, Jiraiya slaps a massive palm across his mouth, and is promptly tackled by a hundred and twenty pounds of furious snake summoner.

Tsunade takes advantage of the distraction without hesitation. “Hatake!” she shouts, and Orochimaru yelps in alarm, trying to fling himself at her, but she just smirks in his face as Jiraiya wrestles him down and calls to the man looking up at them in bemusement, “My friend thinks you’re hot!”

She points at Orochimaru just to make sure there’s no confusion, and he snarls, kicks Jiraiya in the face, and throws himself at her, tackling her to the ground. She goes down laughing, entirely, absolutely sure that she caught red washing across Sakumo’s face to match the color in Orochimaru’s cheeks.

Adoribull Comic Masterpost

A collection of all the longer Adoribull comics that I’ve uploaded so far. There is angst. So much angst.

A lullaby
Summary: Post-Trespasser. Dorian, Bull and their adopted daughter Fianna live in a little house near the Tevene border. It’s a peaceful life - until that one fateful day.
Warning: Blood, character death
Read it here

Summary: The first time that Bull calls Dorian Kadan. But it’s surely not the last time.
Warning: Blood, injury, nudity, mild sexual content
Read it here

It should have been me
Summary: Dorian tries to process Felix’s death. Bull is there to help.
Warning: Alcohol abuse, death of a close person, vomiting
Read it here

WIP: Stumbling
Summary (for now, might change later): For Bull, becoming Tal-Vashoth means facing some new and old fears.
Coming soon

Please feel free to write me if there are any trigger warnings I should add.


@taylorswift hi friend I’d like to share a little something with you. So a few times a year I have the opportunity to take a trip up to the tippy top of Minnesota nearing the Canadian border. This place has always had a special spot in my heart. There’s no phone service up there which gives me large amounts of time to take a look at my life and think deeply about many things I appreciate. Along with the beauty of this world, I think about how much I appreciate YOU being in my life since day one. I know these things sound cheesy but the reality of it is that it holds so much truth. I see the passion you continue to have in regards to whatever you set your mind to, and that’s allowed me to do the same and pave my own path in life.
I love you in enormous amounts, T. Never forget that.