#and not talk to my few friends who unfortunately suffer so much themselves and sadly don't even live near me

[eternalergo]

.

[letarasstuff]

"I don't wanna leave you, Daddy"

(A/N): This was requested by an Anon and it's based on this concept. I hope you are ready for the feels.

Summary: Hotch's daughter is an introvert. A quiet one. But why does she go even quieter after her mother's death?

Warnings: So much hurt. Angst. Fluff. It's bitter sweet.

Wordcount: 2.3k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

(Y/N) never really was an outgoing person. Even since she was able to walk and talk, she still clung to her parents. She refused to play on the playground when other children were there. Socializing was just not her thing. Her parents were sure that she would never be the person to stand up and perform on stage spontaneously. And it is ok.

This doesn’t really change when Jack comes around. Sure, as he grows older and more capable of things (Y/N) plays with him. But it really seems like he is the only one around her age she is not afraid to befriend.

Aaron and Haley reassure themselves that their daughter will find friends in elementary school. After all this is an institution where many children go to and there also are adults trained for helping them coming along. She definitely will find at least one other kid to hang out with regularly and learn how to be a proper child. Because as of right now (Y/N) is more like a little adult, taking responsibilities, like watching over her little brother, she doesn’t need to do voluntarily. Maybe she will be more messy, rebellious, anything but a perfect child.

But this doesn’t exactly happen. (Y/N)’s teachers are really happy with her. Every parent-teacher conference is about how well and polite she is, always behaving good and following the rules. Sadly, they don’t have any good news regarding her social life. It’s not that she doesn’t get along with her classmates, it’s just that she isn’t able to strike up a conversation or is very good at keeping one long enough that a kid is interested in her.

Knowing that (Y/N) is mostly quiet in her school days, Aaron makes it a habit to bring her more often to the office. She surprisingly warms quickly up to his team and whenever she is around them the girl is an unstoppable tornado running loose around the bullpen.

This is kind of how she grows up until the age of middle school. (Y/N) learns some social skills and makes a few friends over the last few years. Unfortunately these friendships are not as deep as the parents wish, still it’s better than nothing.

Things get difficult when Aaron and Haley start to separate. It never is easy when parents fall out of love and it is not only difficult for Jack to see his father not as often as he used to, considering he still is a toddler needing both parents. Especially (Y/N), who is more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, suffers from the situation at home.

Of course it’s hard on her to not see her father for a week or two at a time, but ever since her parents are going on parted ways she sees him at most one weekend every three weeks. This also changes her social life dramastically.

“(Y/N), don’t you wanna do something with your friends? You can invite them over for the weekend”, Haley suggests after watching her daughter not going out with somebody outside of school for several days. For the past two weeks the ten year old just comes home, does her homework and puts her nose in one of the books her Uncle Spencer recommended.

The girl only looks up at her mother to shake her head. “Why not, Sweetie? I haven’t seen William and John in so long. Are you still friends with them?” (Y/N) nods again. “So what is it? Are you guys fighting?” Haley sits down next to her on her bed.

“No, they just-just don’t know about this. I don’t want to tell them. And I want to stay home. It’s ok how it is right now”, she admits. Her mother’s heart breaks at that statement.

In this moment she realizes that anything a parent does has immediate consequences for the children. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I didn’t know this is so hard for you. Maybe you can talk to them over the next few days about it, I think it’ll help you. Do you want to watch a film with me for now? Jack has a sleepover at a friend’s. We can do a girl’s night. We hadn’t had one in a long time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes light up at that. “With all the candy in the world?” Haley smiles at the newfound excitement. “Of course. Anything you want.”

From only seeing Aaron every now and then it suddenly turns to not knowing when she will see him next. After George Foyet ambushes him and makes his family into the next target, (Y/N), her brother and her mother have to go into witness protection.

The goodbye at the hospital is painful and filled with tears. “But Dad, I don’t want to leave you. I’ll miss you too much. I don’t like not seeing you. And what about you? You will be more lonely and-and I can’t leave you”, she confesses, sobbing into him.

Hotch has to hold his own tears back. He doesn’t want to come over as stoic, but as the strong father figure he always tries to be. “Honey, I know I’ll miss you so much. You have to be strong for your mother. This will not be easy and I know it. I promise to do my best to get all of you back as soon as possible, ok? Please be good for your mother and behave. We all need to work together for you to get back fast and safely.”

(Y/N) continues to cry into his hospital gown. Aaron can’t help it and dissolves in tears himself while trying to calm her down. “Shh, Honey. Everything will be fine. I’m so so sorry for all this. I never wanted something like this to happen. Shh, we will see each other real soon. The team and I will do our best. Just please, don’t cry. Please, it all will be better. I can’t let you go without seeing your beautiful laugh for one last time.”

“I don’t wanna leave you, Daddy. I-I wanna stay with you and Uncle Dave and Auntie JJ and Uncle Spencer and Uncle Der and Auntie Penny and Auntie Em. I’m scared you won’t be fine when we come back.”

It’s needless to say that nobody cracked even a smile that day.

Going into witness protection made Haley worry about Jack especially. He is just four years old and she isn’t sure how much he understands about what’s going on. Surprisingly the boy gets accustomed to the situation pretty fast. Of course he misses his father and his people from school, but he is also quick to meet new ones in the town they moved to.

(Y/N) has bigger problems. New school. New kids. New everything.

“Maybe you can see it as a fresh start. Here is nobody you know. You can be whoever you want to be. I can take you shopping and you can try out a new style”, her mother tries to make the situation sound advantageous to her. But the girl dryly answers: “When somebody doesn’t like me how I am now, how will they like an act?”

Sam Kassmeyer regularly reports back to Aaron about his family’s well being. “Jack is thriving. His teachers describe him as a bundle of joy. (Y/N) slowly gets acclimated to the change. Haley told me she started making friends with a girl in their neighborhood. I already ran a background check and the family is clean.”

Hotch lets out a sigh of relief. He turns towards the image on Penelope’s monitor. “Happy fifth birthday, Buddy.”

A few weeks after that it seems like the events overturn each other.

Foyet coming back. Kassmeyer getting tortured. Foyet finding Haley and the children. Them coming back to their house. The call. Working the case with Jack. The gunshot. The fighting noises. Hotch opening the box and hugging both of his children, relieved to see them alive.

The following weeks are difficult for the now smaller family. They mostly consist of watching videos of happy memories and talking about their feelings. Although it’s more like Jack talking about his feelings, (Y/N) went mostly silent ever since their mother’s death. This worries her father more than anything.

Two months have gone by. “Hey Honey, I’m going into the office today. Do you wanna come with me, stay at home or go to school? Anything is fine by me”, he asks her softly, kneeling beside her chair at the table. The girl is munching on her cereal halfheartedly.

“Can I come to the office?” (Y/N) asks in a hoarse voice. It’s actually the first time in four days that Aaron hears her voice. A small smile forms on his face. “Of course, that’s nice. Aunt Penny is asking me after her favorite Hotchner for days on end now. And Uncle Spencer got a stack of books he has for you to read.”

His daughter nods and quickly gets ready. They are soon on their way to Quantico after dropping Jack off at daycare. “How are your classmates? Do you like the new school?” They decided to send (Y/N) to a different school. She couldn’t bear the thought of only being the girl whose Mom died because of a serial killer.

“It’s fine. There are a few girls who are really nice. I think we can be friends. Mo-” She suddenly cuts herself off. Aaron glances over at her. “Continue, Sweetheart. Just tell me what’s on your mind”, he tries to encourage her.

The girl hesitates before following her father’s advice. “Mom would have liked them,” she mumbles. It’s quiet for a few seconds. Hotch is looking for a suitable answer. After all it’s the first time she talked about her mother since her death. “I’m sure of it, Honey. Maybe you can invite them over and I can get to know them. Think about it, no pressure of course.” (Y/N) nods to indicate that she heard him.

Not long later they enter the bullpen. “There she is! My little Hotchner! How you doing, Baby?” Derek asks her and envelopes her into a hug. But she only shrugs her shoulders. This goes on for the rest of the day. Whenever anyone talks to her, the only answer is given by her body language.

Hotch watches helplessly Spencer trying to engage in a conversation with her. His arms and hands are waving around. (Y/N) though just looks at him without being really there mentally. It seems like she is lost in her own thoughts, like it happened so often over the last few months.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?” Dave asks, sitting down on the chair opposite of him. Aaron looks at him funny. “Of course. But (Y/N) is just not ready to talk about Haley and everybody grieves differently. I can’t force her to speak, Dave.”

The older agent leans back in his seat. “I don’t think she needs to talk about her. This probably is too soon. She needs to talk about you. The changes.” After a short pause, in which the other one still doesn’t get the point, Rossi continues. “That little girl just lost her mother. She is scared to lose her father, the one with the high risk job. I think that is enough to talk about.”

This occupies the agent for the remainder of the day. Aaron was so invested in fulfilling both parent roles, that he forgot that he is just a father. The man his children go to when they have a nightmare. The one, who is more lenient than their mother. He can’t be both ones. He can’t be two people in one.

A kid trusts a mother and a father usually. And he can’t be mother and father at once. Hotch has to accept the fact. The fact that (Y/N) and Jack are going to grow up without a mother. But luckily not without mother figures.

Later that day, after tucking Jack in, Aaron knocks on his daughter’s door. A small “Come in!” echoes back to him. He enters her room and spots (Y/N) already in her bed reading a book Spencer gave her today.

“Hey, do you have time before it’s lights out?” He asks, still wanting to give her the upper hand on this. The girl nods and scoots over for her father to take a place. He lays next to her, pulling his daughter into a hug.

“I know I can’t promise it. Coming back to you every time. You know it as much as I do. But I promise you to try anything and everything in the books. You guys keep me going.” Tears roll over both of their faces.

“I-I just”, (Y/N) moves her head onto his chest to sob into it, “Just don’t wanna lose you, too. I-I don’t think I-I can’t be the girl, who doesn’t have a mother AND a father. C-can you stop that from happening?” Hotch has to wipe his eyes before answering.

“I-I try to keep that from happening, Honey. I promise.”

This is how they fall asleep, squished in a twin bed close to each other. In the morning they both are overheated and got a visitor during the night. Jack wakes them up, asking why they had a sleepover without him.

This morning is the first time Aaron sees (Y/N) smiles since day zero.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

[roseabelle21]

Synopsis: Every anniversary spent with your partner are always unpredictable, joyous, and exciting. You never know what a certain blond has planned every year for your special occasion. And after five years of being together, this might be the best one yet. 

Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x Fem! Reader

Status: Unedited

Genre: Fluff🐰🐇🐰

Tagging: @jazzylove @babymilkawa @cloudsinthecosmos @withlovefromjo @unicornlover25

The ambience of the local cafe never fails to soothe your nerves. The work of a Hero is neverending. After all, no one can tell when a villain might show up and cause destruction. The Hero business is relentless; they will call you up when the job becomes too much for your sidekicks, even on your days off. Of course, you know what you are getting into the moment U.A reached out to you for recommendation trials, and peoples lives are at stake, it was understandable.

The sidekicks are still learning though that doesn't mean that they are not progressing, being the most experienced in the field, they still need your help. You love helping people, don't get it wrong, their smiles and relief noticeable in their faces and posture, the ease they felt when you show up because they knew you are capable of taking that villain down, is enough to make it all worth it. But the reports you have to type up after the fight is less than exciting. Sure you have someone who can do it for you, but that damned Hero Commission wants it to come from you. 

So no matter how little time you get to relax, you take advantage of that. Now, here you are, catching up with your best friend since birth in this small, homey cafe. It's rare to have the same day off with someone from class, when you found out that Momo also has her day off today, both of you immediately agreed to meet up. Both of the women practically running up to each other the moment you caught sight on the other side of the road. Wrapping your arms around each other in a tight, and overdue hug, almost squealing in public. 

The giddiness from your bodies did not stop even after 30 minutes later, laughing and telling stories from your work and personal life. Even though you already know from your weekly - if not nightly - calls from each other. Bakugou once jokingly said you and Momo act more like in a relationship rather than the both of you do. To tease him back, you wondered out loud if both of you are, you would already be married. Let's say he did not like that one bit, informing the office the next day that you are sick, unable to move your legs and sore body. Fucker just gave you a smug look before leaving to work, Bakugou did cook you breakfast though. 

Speaking of him, "Hey- Uhm, I have something to tell you." 

Momo looked at you through the top of her mug and gave you a nod. She grew concerned when you bit your lip and traced the rim of your  glass with a finger, "what's wrong?" 

"It's silly," you chuckled. Nervous to tell the truth, but you knew you had to take this feeling off of you, and there is no one better to tell your problems to other than your ride or die. 

"Is it about Bakugou?" she took your hand and intertwined your fingers together, rubbing her thumb along the back of your hand. 

You nodded, "it's just that we haven't spent time with each other as much as we want to. We always find time to eat together, breakfast, lunch, and dinner if one of us is not asleep. We always find time for each other. Now," you gulped. "Now, that rarely happens." 

Momo listened to your story silently, smiling softly when your eyes met. "It's not silly (N/n) you miss him. And that is normal for couples, have you talked to him about this?”

"No," you shook your head, embarrassed, "I can never find the right time to swoop it in." 

She hummed, tapping her chin in thought. You swear you can see her eyes lit up for a split second before it disappeared. Maybe it was just the trick of the afternoon light, so you shake it off. 

"I won't be too worried about him cheating on you if that's what you are implying," your eyes immediately widened and hastily shook your head. Embarrassed flushing red on your face as you frantically waved you hands in denial, "n-no! It's not like that!"

Momo giggled and motioned you to calm down. She's only teasing, no one in class - and the whole world - will question the blond's loyalty towards you. 

He won't even spare a second glance at any girls who are throwing themselves at him. That was proven when someone tried to flirt with him at a class field trip during your third year of U.A. Bakugou and you only being in a relationship for less than three months, the blond shut her down rather harshly. You almost feel bad, had you not been telling her he had a girlfriend for 10 minutes straight. 

You laughed in your head evilly at her tears. 

Do you give a fuck? No not one.

How many fucks do you give? Zero. 

Were you mean for thinking that? Absolutely. 

Do you regret the minuscule smirk of victory forming on your lips once she ran off, crying? Nope. She had it coming. 

"Then there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of," she cooed. "You and Bakugou-san have been inseparable ever since your accidental confession," you groaned, embarrassed. "Maybe he's just busy on a mission? You know how obsessed he is with becoming the number one hero. And now that he's so close to achieving it, he might be losing time for you, but that doesn't mean he loves you any less." 

A small smile graced your lips at her, thankful to have Momo as your friend to confide in everything. She was and will always be your safe person, other than Katsuki. 

After going through that enemies-to-lovers arc? Did she think that Bakugou would easily sway to another person's pursuit of him? Nah, both of you fought for the other to give that up easily (either together or against each other). 

"Make sure to tell him what you feel in all of this. Communication is the most important quality in a relationship." Momo reminded with a stern yet soft voice with a wag of her finger, which caused you to giggle. 

"Thanks, Momo," the ebony-haired girl only responded with a grin. Her eyes sparkled, excited about what's to come in the next couple of months. 

~*~*~*~*

Right now, you felt like the worst person on the planet. With only three days away until the five-year-anniversary with the love of your life, finding the perfect present is almost impossible. Curse you and your perfectionism!

Not only that but the last couple of weeks had been hectic. You think your manager and agency is purposefully doing this to make you suffer. Villains attacking were the farthest reason for your stress, surprisingly. Sure there are petty crimes here and there, nothing your sidekicks couldn't handle, but the media stuff are the ones weighing you down. You grew accustomed to taking a quick shower, at times, dinner with the blond before crashing down on the bed passed out. 

Commercials, photoshoots, travelling, sponsor partnerships here and there, it was almost as if you were back in rising to fame. It was exhausting and frustrating at the same time. You can never seem to find a break anymore. The only time you can rest are lunches with Katsuki and coming home late at night, sleeping. 

However, both of you made the most out of it after your lunch with Momo a few months ago. You took her advice and told Katsuki how you felt. No surprises, he understands how you felt, gave you a tight hug and explained everything. 

Sadly, he can't tell you the mission. It was confidential. Only the higher up's and the rest of his teammates knows it. You understand it's part of the job at the end of the day. And to keep you from worrying too much even though you know he's capable of taking care of himself out in the field. 

Both of you miss each other, and with breakfast and lunch is the only reason you get to see your partner, it was slowly becoming regular to you, much to your dismay. "A small price to pay for becoming a Hero" is what your manager would say. 

Waking up in the morning to either you or Katsuki making breakfast, taking turns to visit each other at their agency to bring lunch despite the limited time, it was more than enough.

Being in the mere presence of the other is more than enough. 

"(Y/N)! Five minutes left till you have to go!" 

The voice of your manager snapped you out of your trance. Turning your gaze from your phone screen to their place in the doorway, clipboard in their grasp, hair messy and dark bags forming under their eyes. 

A small, sorry smile formed on my lips. Well, at least they're not the only ones. 

"You know, both of us would look much, much better if you reject a sponsorship or two." you teased, walking up to them and patting their shoulder as you walked past them.

They smiled sarcastically in retort.

"I wouldn't have too if not for getting a raise," they mumbled under their breath. Tiredly rubbing their face, reminding themselves to suck it up, only three more days, these will all be over. A raise and a week vacation promised, the ones to look forward too. 

"Ah, shit! Almost forgot," they pulled out their phone and typed in another errand. 

Accompany (Y/N) today, tomorrow, and the next day to find a gift. 

~*~*~*~

You found it, the perfect gift to give your explosive man. 

You clapped your hands excitedly, placing the carefully wrapped box on the nightstand atop your beloved night book, away from the possible dangers of the world. 

Sighing peacefully, a flopped down your shared bed. Curling up the warm blankets and cuddling with Katsuki's pillow, enjoying the peaceful afternoon day. 

Finally, a day off. 

The day of your anniversary. 

This day would have been perfect if your other half was here, you know, spending the rest of your day off together. Waking up with his arms wrapped around you, cooking breakfast with his arms still around you, even walking around with his arms around you. 

However, you can't find it annoying. After months of being apart, that was the most and longest physical touch you both have experienced. 

Unfortunately, the office called him for an emergency. The phone call was urgent. Katsuki furrowed his brows in annoyance and concern as he listens to his sidekick give him the information. To put the cherry on top, he only answered calmy. That's how you know it was severe; they need desperately need Dynamight in action. 

Katsuki was reluctant to leave, telling you he's already been away from you for too long. His eyes screamed for forgiveness, hesitant, and something else you can't quite place. 

You pushed him to get dressed, told him if he can finish the mission early, the earlier you can spend the rest of the day together. The fire in his eyes sparkled brighter than ever, accompanied by his menacing grin, accepting the challenge of beating the damned villain who ruined his day faster than they can blink.  

He pulled you in for a deep kiss before heading out the door, running back for a quick kiss before finally leaving. A giddy giggle erupted from you at his actions, watching him ride away with his motorcycle. 

With nothing else better to do, you decided that a quick nap wouldn't hurt anybody. You know that Katsuki will be back soon, safe and sound. He's come so far, and stopping him right now when he's so close to achieving his dream would be an insult. You have so much faith in him, one of the many reasons he loves about you. 

You were ready to drift off into dreamland; had it not been for the insistent and rapid knocking suddenly coming from the front door. Groaning, you muffled your scream in your pillow, wanting to cry from annoyance and stress. 

Only one person could be doing that. With their strong voice chanting your name over and over again at the same rhythm as the door knocking, your manager must have something important to tell you. 

Their bright smile greeted you when you opened the door, in contrast to the annoyed and tired look you gave them. Telling you what is needed to be said, you dramatically collapsed, landing on their chest. Another commercial to shoot!

"Don't you know what today is?!" You questioned dramatically, flailing your arms around to exaggerate your point. 

They smiled apologetically at you, rubbing your back for comfort. "Believe me; you're not the only one dying to sleep right now."

You pouted at them, tiredly rubbing your eyes to chase the sleepiness away. 

"Don't worry (Y/N)! It will be the last one for a long time! I've made sure to give us both a break for the next couple of months to give you time to discuss something important with Katsuki!"

You tilted your head, confused at their cherry voice and excited smile despite the darkness under their eyes. 

"What-?" 

"Let's go! No need to change, costume and your hair and make-up team is already waiting for you, no script needed since you only have to be there, answering the question naturally. And then -"

They continued babbling about what to do the moment you got in the car and towards your destination. As you drive for almost an hour, you noticed the changes in scenery. Gone are the tall skyscrapers and bright lights of the city, now slowly replaced by luscious green grass fields, strong thick trees and clear blue sky that you rarely see nowadays. 

It was satisfying, seeing the wonders of nature even in it's simplest forms. You sighed, feeling at ease compared to earlier this morning, wishing that Katsuki was here to enjoy this with you. A nice picnic here or at the park will be enough. 

You noticed a large, white tent approaching your view when the car started to slow down. To your surprise, Momo and Mina were there, waving at you excitedly, with bright grins adorning their faces. 

"I forgot to mention," your manager started, stopping the car. "A few of your friends will be joining you in this."

You nodded, getting out of the car, wishing you could have changed into something decent other than your sweatpants and Katsuki's shirt. 

The girls were immediately shoving you eagerly towards the tent, noticing that they are already dressed and ready for the shoot. 

"I'm so excited for this shoot!" Exclaimed Mina excitedly, bouncing up and down carefully as to not ruin her hair. Incoherable noises left her lips as she continued guiding you. 

The dark-haired girl beside you, although much more calm and collected, couldn't stop the giggles, holding your hand firmly as they opened the flap of the tent. 

A surprised smile painted on your lips when the rest of the girls in your class greeted you.  

"(Y/N!)"  Ocahako ran to you, giving you a giant bear hug. 

"We finally get to be together on a shoot, kero!" Tsuyu added with an excited clap.

"Hurry and get ready!" Hagakure pushed you towards the chair. You would have tripped on the way there had it not been for Jiro holding you by the shoulder. 

You let it slide with a happy chuckle. It was almost impossible to get all of the girls together for anything. If they try to plan anything together, one of them will always be busy or on patrol that day. 

It was nice being together once again, as in the good old days. Everyone was already ready and dressed in their complementary colours, you noticed. They chatted with you as you get your make up ready, some going out and coming back in for picture taking outside. 

Again, you can't help but feel sad that Katsuki is not with you. These would have been perfect if he was beside you. No matter, you told yourself, I'll be with him after this. 

"Whoa, (Y/N)," the girls cooed at you simultaneously when you got done. Looking you through the mirror with soft smiles and - were those tears welling up in some of them? To say you are confused will be an understatement. This is not the first time they've seen you glammed up.

"Are you all okay? What's the matter?" 

They only smiled at you, dabbing the corners of their eyes to prevent tears from further falling. 

"Whooo, enough of this," Mia sighed, fanning her eyes whilst looking up. "Get dressed honey, your dress is already there." 

When you entered the dressing room, a beautiful white knee-length cocktail dress greeted you placed on the mannequin. It was off the shoulder with sheer sleeves designed in flowers and a flowy skirt. When you touched the material, you are shocked that it was silk. 

Now, you are beyond confused and highly impressed. Then you wondered, what kind of commercial are you making? The company must be loaded to get all the well-known woman Pro Heroes together for this one shoot. 

Your brows furrowed in thought but ended up letting it go. Slipping on your dress which hugged your figure perfectly, doing a little twirl to watch the dress flow. You are feeling yourself in this dress. 

Once you exited the dressing room, you were surprised when you recognised one of your classmates in dance class there, wearing a bright costume along with the other dancers. They grabbed your hands and guided you to the centre; the music suddenly blasted from somewhere and danced around you. 

You were beyond confused as you looked around. None of the girls except Momo was in the corner of the room, laughing and taking a video of you. You are so confused. 

What is going on?

They prompted you to dance along with them, and you did, albeit softly; the dancers still cheered you on.

You laughed as they twirled you around towards Momo. "Come on," she pulled you out of the tent, dancers continued cheering you on from the inside. 

You walked out towards the open field. The trees decorated in pastel shades of your favourite colours, the ground littered with the petals of your favourite flowers, your heart started to beat faster and faster with every step you take. 

You swore you felt your heart leap out of your chest when you spotted more of your classmates came into view. A hand covered your mouth in sheer shock, happiness, and confusion. 

Tables and chairs surrounded the open clearing. Red linens covered the tables along with silverwares, the surrounding trees decorated in lanterns and ribbons, a buffet filled with your favourite food on the side, a fucking swan ice sculpture beside it, chocolate fountain. But the one that caught your attention the most was the gazebo: built in the middle of a tree with beautiful white leaves at the tip of it. 

You didn't know that you are now standing alone at the entrance, still frozen in shock as you looked at everyone with wide eyes. 

What the fuck? 

Kirishima then approached you with his usual bright smile, although this one might be brighter than the rest. He chuckled softly at your expression before offering you his hand.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm about to faint and vomit at the same time," you answered shakily with a laugh. "What the heck is happening, Kirishima?"

"Well," he shrugged his shoulders, "why don't you ask the planner of this event?" 

The pounding of your heart reached your ears, your face glowing bright red, as he led you towards the gazebo tree; only then did you see a single stool in the middle. 

"Wait, the fuck?" You questioned a bit loudly. The rest of the crowd only laughed at your nervousness. 

When you sat down, the table to your right; seated two crucial people in your life; your parents. They are smiling at you, tears running down your mother's eyes with your father's arm draped over her shoulder, both of them wearing white clothing like yours. 

You mouthed a 'what are you doing here?' with a teary smile. Your father responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Your eyebrows flew when you saw the couple beside them: Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou, both reacting the same as your parents. 

The sound of a microphone caught everyone's attention. Aizawa came into your peripheral vision on the left, wearing his usual black colours. He is nicely clean today; his hair tied away from his face; it looks like he shaved as well. The most surprising of all was the small smile he wore. 

What is going on?

Your mind raced at the possibility, a hand resting on your chest as if it can calm your racing heart. It was all too much to take in. 

"It's been a while since we're all together," Aizawa started, gaining everyone's attention, soft background music playing in the background. 

"I'm not surprised by the length's this man is willing to go; he does want to be the best at everything- which explains everything." Everyone agreed silently. "He will never do anything half-assed."

He then walked up to you with a gentle smile, "now (Y/N), do you know what is happening?" 

"No, I don't even know what's happening anymore," you answered shakily. "This is like a joke: Is this a joke?" you joked, albeit shakily. 

Aizawa only smiled when you continued, "I'm just waiting for the director to shout 'Cut!' I don't know what to do, am I going dance? Will I start acting? There are camera's here, but they're not giving me instructions."

"You have no idea what's going on?"

"No! I'm already getting scared," you chuckled, voice already starting to reveal that you are about to cry soon. You chose to laugh it off. 

"In all honesty, I know that you know and everybody knows and agrees; that you are the most beautiful woman today." You responded with a silent thank you, deeply flattered. 

"You know (Y/N), all of this happened because of one person only. Just one person," you swallowed your heart back down, tears starting to escape your eyes as your heart and mind screams of that person's name. 

"So don't be surprised; because this is how much he loves you."

Tingles ran down your arms once the background music stopped and Aizawa stepped down. You held your clasped hands in front of you and placed them on your lips, tensing up a little, waiting in anticipation. 

"Sir, I'm a bit nervous about being here today." 

The world stopped turning when you heard that line. The tears escaped along with a happy sob. The figure of Katsuki Bakugou emerged from behind the tree at the entrance, holding a microphone to his lips. The other hand, resting deep in his pockets. 

"Still not real sure what I'm going to say," he walks up to you. Not once tearing his eyes away from yours when he met them. The smile on him was nothing like anyone has ever seen before; nervous, happy, content, love. 

"So bear with me, please, if I take up too much of your time." 

He was nothing short of perfect. No words could ever describe how beautiful he is right now; of course, he's always beautiful, but now, he is taking your breath away. 

It was already rare when you see him not wearing his baggy clothing; it's considered a blessing to see him wear a formal white tux that suits him too well. 

When he neared you, he took out a red velvet box in his pocket: gripping on it tightly as he angled it towards you. 

"See in this box is the ring for your oldest. She's my everything and all that I know is. It would be such relief if I knew that we were on the same side."

Everyone watched in anticipation as the blond finally reached in front of you, kneeling on one knee as he continued to serenade you. 

"Can marry your daughter, and make her my wife. I want her to be the only girl that I'll love for the rest of my life. And give her the best of me 'till the day that I die, yeah." 

At this point, you don't care if you look like a mess. The love of your life is looking up at you like you are the most beautiful person he has ever seen; it's probably true. 

"I'm gonna marry your princess, and make her my queen. She'll be the most beautiful bride that I've ever seen. I can't wait to smile; as she walks down the aisle; on the arm of her father. Till the day that I marry your daughter."

You told him about your dream proposal; it doesn't have to be anything special as long as the song is there along with your family. And you know Katsuki, you give him an inch, he'll take it to the moon.

Katsuki stared at you with a soft smile, reaching his arms to wipe the tears off of your face. Laughing at his actions, you held on to one of his hands, placing it down on your lap. Both of you took in deep, calming breaths to ease your nerves before smiling at each other again. 

"Hi (Y/N)," he called with a soft, shaky tone. A short laugh left you at his adorable nervousness. "Hi, Katsuki."

"You already know what the fuck is going on," the crowd laughed at his bluntness. "I'm not gonna beat around the bushes any longer. I want to make this official." 

He opened the velvet box; a gasp left you as you saw the ring inside. A beautiful red ruby gem immediately caught your eyes as it shines in the sun. 

A large smile adorned your lips as Katsuki looked at you with a tender expression. Everyone wiping away their tears at the moment before them. 

"I'll save all the sappy words at the wedding vows, now, (Y/N)," when his eyes met yours again, you are sure. 

"Will you do the honour of making me the happiest man alive by being my wife? Will you marry me?"

Despite the tears falling like a waterfall, your answer was clear and sealed. No matter how many different worlds there might be, how many different lifetimes are there in this universe, nor all the possible scenarios this proposal can take in, you will never get tired of saying the answer over and over again. 

"Yes." 

One way or another, Katsuki Bakugou and (Y/N) (L/N) will always find a way to be together. Herein is arms and the ring on your finger; all is well and where it should be. 

Even though you can't give him his present now, I'm sure the box is still safe and sound on the table. 

After all, you are the one carrying the most important gift. 

The two strips of pink line on the stick only confirms it. 

A/N: This is the longest and hardest story I have ever written for a one shot so far. Wedding?

[cruelfeline]

The Hordak Bleatings Masterpost

The new and improved Masterpost! All of my ridiculous bleating in one place! Now with categories to allow you, dear friends and neighbors, to better marvel at the utter nonsense I get up to in my spare time. It shall be updated every so often/when I remember. 

some of these categories may overlap or perhaps not be perfect; I tried; there was... a lot

Enjoy!

Biological/Medical Musings

A Fairly Comprehensive List of Hordak’s Clinical Signs

I Wrote Too Much About Hordak’s Arms

And Then Someone Asked About His Elbows So Voila

Someone Else Asked About His Eyes

Yes; I Did Measure Hordak’s Ears via Fuzzy Math; You’re Welcome

A Brief Word About Dentition

Some Sad Thoughts About Clone Lifespan

I Like to Headcanon that Clones Have Naturally Different Eye Colors

Counting Hordak’s Ports

Thinking About Terrible Ways Prime Could Institute Biological Control

Doing Very Fuzzy Math And Wondering Just How Young Hordak Could Be

Spending Way Too Much Time Figuring Out Whether Hordak is Left or Right Handed

Why Tiny Food is Probably Ideal for Hordak (a joke ask I essentially took Seriously)

Discussing Hordak’s Temper

Considering Whether Hordak Needs Oxygen

Discussing Whether Prime and his Clones are Genetically Identical

Hordak in Relation to Other Characters

Entrapdak

Hordak Can Get Close to Entrapta Because He Needn’t Fear Her

Discussing Entrapdak Age Discourse

Bit More Regarding Hordak’s Maturity vs. Entrapta’s

Hordak Didn’t Manipulate Entrapta… But Catra Did

Assessing that Unfortunate Moment When Hordak Snapped at Entrapta

Further Assessing Hordak Snapping at Entrapta by Noting When He Doesn’t

On Hordak’s Wardrobe Change

Entrapta Shushing Hordak is One of My Favorite Interactions

The Entrapdak Scene Was Also One of Self-Love

I Really Like How Entrapta Talks to Hordak About Failure

Hordak Tells an Actual Lie and Succeeds

Entrapta’s and Hordak’s Social Differences Help Them Connect to One Another

I Would Have Appreciated A Scene Where Entrapta Learns About What Happened To Hordak

Hordak Takes Strength From Realizing That Entrapta Came For Him

Hordak and Entrapta Just Like One Another, and I Enjoy That

There is a Huge Difference in How The Alliance and Hordak React to Entrapta Being on Beast Island, and it’s Jarring

This is Mostly About Catradora But Kind of in the Sense of Why Entrapdak is Better, so Here it Goes

Entrapta Didn’t Teach Hordak How to Love; She Taught Him How to Be Loved

The Soup Scene is a Condensed View of Why Entrapdak Works in Light of the Rest of Hordak’s Arc

Hordak and Entrapta Search for One Another Alone, and it Makes Me Sad

I Love How Hordak Scooches Over for Entrapta to Join Him on his Throne

Catra

The How-Catra-Manipulated-Hordak Masterpost

Watching Catra and Hordak Switch Roles in Season Three is Fascinating

Hordak and Catra’s Low Points Indicate Their Core Problems

Did Hordak Abuse Catra? Did She Abuse Him? The World May Never Know

Comparing Hordak and Catra in Terms of Consequences and Agency

Hordak and Catra’s Apparent Ages Likely Affect How People Judge Them

Why Doesn’t Hordak Subdue Catra?

Losing and Regaining the Will to Fight is Another Hordak/Catra Parallel

Sometimes I Wish The Show Would Focus Less on Catra and More on Hordak

Why Catra Besting Hordak Isn’t As Satisfying As Catra Besting Shadow Weaver

Hordak Exhibits Some Level of Trust in Catra Even in Season 2... and She Betrays It

The Difference in How Hordak and Catra Handle Relationships followed by Why They Are Like This 

Some Brief Words on the Differences Between How Hordak and Catra End Up Driven to Destruction in Season Four

Musing About What I Actually Would Accept as “Hordak Abusing Catra”

I Think It’s Kind of Funny that Some Expect Catra to be Suspicious of Hordak Post-Canon

Two Scenes That Look Distressing Side-by-Side

Discussing How Catra and Hordak Start Off as Parallels but Later Deviate Due to Character Differences

Adora

How Adora and Hordak End Season Four Differently

Hordak and Adora Parallels

I Wonder if Adora Recognizes Some of Herself in Hordak

Other

This is Actually About Shadow Weaver, but Compared to Hordak, So…

Hordak Doesn’t Seem to have a “Rule the World!” Moment (compared to Shadow Weaver)

On Hordak’s Weird Interactions with DT

Watching DT Circle Hordak is Interesting

Let’s Compare the Circling Scenes, Shall We?

What Wrong Hordak’s Arc Teaches Us About Clones and Hordak

Wondering if Hordak Actually has Control Over the Etherian Horde (could he have stopped the war?)

Prime

There Is A Huge Difference In The Standards Prime And Hordak Hold Others Two Versus Themselves

Hordak and Horde Prime Handle Their Own Vulnerabilities Quite Differently

The Difference Between How Prime and Hordak Use Anger

The Moment Prime Touched Hordak’s Face is the Moment I Truly Knew That Something About Hordak’s Backstory was Very Wrong

Clone/Origin/Prime-Related Sadness

The Clone Thing

More Distressed Bleating about The Clone Thing

Hordak’s DMV Photo Disturbs Me

Hordak Isn’t Actually an Idiot About Disease Transmission

On Hordak’s Bodily Autonomy, or Lack Thereof

How Much of Hordak is “Hordak?”

I’m 99% Certain That Hordak Sucks at Lying Because he Literally Couldn’t

You’d Think Hordak would Think Things Through, But…

Hordak isn’t Really Proud of “Hordak” (with a bonus Adora mention)

Hordak Provides Excellent Fridge Horror

Hordak’s Behavioral Pathology Isn’t Actually Pathology

So! That Purification Ritual was Really Something

Despite Erasure, Hordak Remains Himself

The Clones Are Essentially Trapped By Prime And It Upsets Me

I Get Annoyed That The Clones Aren’t Discussed More By Our Heroes

Again, I Wish The Show Acknowledged The Clones A Bit More, Wrongie Edition

Wouldn’t It Be Swell If Prime Really Did Manage The Clones Like Livestock? 

It’s More Emotionally Poignant That The Clones Are Individuals Rather Than Drones

Prime’s Doctrine Ensures Hordak Blames Himself, and it’s an Awful Control Measure

Hordak Probably Isn’t Dumb for Using Uninsulated Cables; Rather, Clone Sadness is in Play

Why I Can’t See Hordak and the Other Clones As Colonizers (unlike Prime) (also a whole convo thread)

Thinking About Clones and Self-Care

Each Clone Will Have to Realize That They Were Victimized

Wondering if Horde Clones Might Feel Anxious Sleeping Alone

Why Prime Might Encourage Some Autonomy in His Clones (spoilers: for cruelty)

Completely Arbitrary Classification of Clones Post-Prime!

Prime is an Actual God to the Clones and it is Terrifying

Canon Plausibility of Blanket Burritoing Horde Clones!

I Appreciate That, Despite Their Devotion, the Clones are Portrayed as Legitimately Suffering due to Prime

Catra and Adora have Happy Memories; do the Clones?; does Hordak?

Morality/Punishment/Redemption Related

Morality is (sadly) not a Universal Thing

Don’t Talk to me About the Reset as “Proper Punishment”

Why Hordak Doesn’t Just Become a Good Citizen

I Think About Hordak’s Choices a Lot

Hordak as an Abuse Mimic Rather Than Pure Evil

Looking at the Horde Child Soldier Thing From a Certain POV

Emotional Support is a Necessary Part of Healing

Hordak Was Forgiven Without Redemption, And I’m OK With That

Hordak’s Arc Speaks Directly to People who were “Raised Wrong”

I Wonder if Hordak Would See anti-Princess Propaganda as Propaganda

Semi-Intelligent Plot/Story Observations

Hordak’s Portrayal is a Function of Character Lens

Hordak Gets Very Legit Development in Season Four

She-Ra Isn’t a War Drama and Here’s Why

Hordak Suffers From a Distressing Lack of Agency

Hordak is a Weirdly Unenthusiastic Lord

The Season 4 Finale Reframes Hordak’s Vulnerability 

Untangling Hordak’s Backstory in Light of What We Now Know

Why Hordak Getting Possessed is Narratively Good

Hordak’s Rebellion and Subsequent Possession Essentially Summarize His Story

There Are Big Differences Between Hordak and Prime’s Etherian Wars

It Is Pretty Unlikely That Hordak Would Have Pulled The Portal Lever

It Occurred To Me That Hordak May Initially Ignore FO’s Tech Because It’s Just Really Old

An Assessment Of The Villain Intro Cards, Focusing On Hordak

I Think It’s Silly To Blame Hordak For Everything - Especially When Considering Prime

Literally Just a Thread Explaining Why Hordak is Sympathetic

Some Words On Exactly How Terrible DT’s Reveal Was For Hordak

The Escalation of Hordak’s Situation is Really Something

An Anon Asks a Normal Question and I go on a Tangent About Hordak Compensating for his Inability to Innovate via Entrapta and Catra

There are Monumental Differences Between the Galactic and Etherian Hordes in Terms of Brainwashing and Agency

Thinking About Why Chipped Etherians May Not be That Sympathetic To Clones After All

Random Bit of Logicking About Why Hordak Calls the Princesses a Rebellion

Figuring Out Why I Find Hordak So Much More Sympathetic Than The Princesses

Brief Musing on How Hordak Might Face Antagonism From Both Sides Post-Canon

Hordak’s Story Touches on the Concept of the Imperfection of Authority

Someone Asked Me if I Found Hordak’s S5 Arc Satisfying

Discussing Whether Or Not Hordak Planned on Leading Anything After Conquering Etheria

Taking Apart an Abysmal Twitter Take Because It’s Fun

Talking About Prime’s Clone Troops v. Robot Troops

Talking About Hordak’s Emotional Age

Hordak’s S3 Backtory Being Part-Delusion Helps Emphasize the Inequality in Attachment Between the Clones and Prime

A Few Not-So-Nice Acts Hordak Commits That I Find Justifiable

Random Headcanons of All Sorts

Stupidly Cute, Pointless Headcanon #3825 (ears covered)

Stupid Pointlessly Cute Headcanon #4853 (yawning, with appropriate artwork)

Stupid Pointlessly Cute Headcanon #2938 (snoring)

Stupid Pointlessly Cute Headcanon #1423 (REM sleep)

Stupidly Cute, Pointless Headcanon #7845 (blushing)

Random Hordak-Related Thought #2935 (forearms)

I Like to Think That Hordak Does Cute Things in his Sleep

I Like to Think That Hordak’s Eyes Dim While He Sleeps

Literally Me Just Having Emotions

Thinking About the Stress of Maintaining His Image in the Horde

Why Hordak’s Trauma is Particularly Disturbing To Me (compared to Catra/Adora)

Catra Overcomes her Fear of her Abuser; Hordak Does Not

All of my Emotions over the S4 Finale

Hordak’s Goddamned Smirk Lied to Me

I Have Feelings about Hordak’s Enforced Self-Care

I Need Hordak to Know that He is Loved

Hordak Goes Pew Pew and It’s Cute

Watching Hordak Lift Things Makes Me Smile

Hordak’s Unreasonable Expectations Make Me Sad

Please Just Let Hordak Rest

A Sassy Post About People Complaining the Hordak and Catra are Forgiven

All My Words About That Hordak/Adora Scene

Hordak Taps the Asphyxiation Lever With Two Fingers And It Makes Me Happy

I Wonder If Individuality Felt Blasphemous To Hordak

Please Don’t Stab Clones In Their Ports, Thank You

Hordak Clasps His Hands And It Makes Me Anxious

Hordak Shaming Catra Mimics the Purification Room And It’s Disturbing

Watching Hordak Give Up Is Heartbreaking

I Worry About Hordak Handling Anxiety

People Being Considerate of Hordak Makes My Heart Smile

I Wonder If Magic Was Frightening to Hordak at First

Thinking About Hordak Progressing in Terms of Self-Care

Prime Never Calls Hordak by Name, not Even Once

Just Being Sad While Realizing the Sort of Life Hordak had to Look Forward To

Strange Fic-Like Things No One Should Read

Please Consider: A Concept Masterpost

Hordak Practices Eyerolling

Imp Hacks Up The Worst Color of Hairball

[sharks833]

Sad Face

Well, my relationship of over a year has come to a very sudden end. I am very saddened by this but to be honest it makes as much sense as the rest of the relationship. We meet here on Tumblr, we became partners for a writing/art event. I had been a reader for this event before and this year I wanted to be a writer. Iv passively been a part of the community around the event for a while now and wanted to try and become active in the community. I enjoy reading and have always wanted to try my hand at writing on the count that I have a very vivid imagination and would like to try and get some of my thoughts down. I thought doing so on Tumblr would be a good idea both because I could give back to a wonderful community and people would be more understanding of my dyslexia which I use editing software to try and correct but sometimes even they don’t understand what I’m trying to spell (which spell check never does). To be honest, I was also looking for a more intimate relationship, but never really expected anything to come from it. I was very fortunate to get a wonderful partner but was too shy to ask them if they were a girl until I accidentally called them him for my big post and quickly edited it (a point that I got a lot of much deserved teasing for once we started dating). We kept talking after the event though and slowly after talking to each other every day we became closer and closer until I asked them if they wanted to start dating. Originally they said no, to which I was surprised and disappointed but understood that they were wary of dating after past experiences which I was made aware of. I thought they deserved a wonderful boyfriend and always hated when people said that and yet were themselves unwilling to be that person, so I offered myself. It wasn't long after that however when they confessed their own love for me and would love to date with an understanding of the things they would be uncomfortable with given their past. I was happy to be able to just talk to them and was more than happy to make any concession that would make them happy. A year passes and it’s both one of the best and worst years of my life.

(This is the complaining paragraph and if anyone reads this feel free to skip)

I quit my awful part-time job and moved out of my apartment I share with a roommate to try and live with my aunt and cousin in DC to try and go to CU in DC or find a job that I don't hate. Unfortunately the week I get there covid hits DC and we have quarantine. After about two months it's very clear things aren't going to work out and I go back home. Sadly my mother passed suddenly a few years ago and my father didn’t waste time finding remarrying, selling our family home, and moving in with her across the state line. At this time my twin brother gets recalled from the peace corps and now we are both in this strange house with this woman that we barely know who retired the moment she married my father much to his dismay. Were both forced to very quickly get any job and I find myself in hell on a tugboat for two months. Living in that hell for two weeks at a time working six hours, sleeping six hours. Once off the boat I get two weeks off and get to try and hide in a room that’s not mine from the monster that is my fathers’ wife. All while studying for the GRE and joining my brother in an online class to learn all the math. After two months I quit that hell much to the horror of my father. I’m quickly forced, and I mean forced as much as one can without putting a weapon against my skin, to work five hours of labor at FedEx throwing boxes in the back of semi-trucks. After another month the monster has had enough and me and my twin are moved into an apartment we didn’t get to choose but still pay everything for. The apartment isn't so bad as I'm away from my father and his wife and me and my twin took the GRE and will now be attending grad school in August through housing and such still need to be acquired.

Through this time though I've had the wonderful experience of being in a loving relationship. Every day I talked to my love and she talked to me. We went on dates and skyped with each other and I honestly loved Them more than I have loved anyone before. I want to fill a page full of all the wonderful things that we did and how happy I truly was at the time but those moments were between us and I like to keep the details of my love life private. My very first relationship was a long-distance one and it was a wonderful six months before it quickly became one-sided. For the next two years that we were dating, I was miserable because I didn't understand that people with more experience in dating get bored of relationships. After that, I never wanted to be in a one-sided relationship again. Sadly that's exactly where I found myself the moment they came home from the end of the semester. I always knew they were close to their family, and didn't and don’t mind being second or third to family, but I wasn't even last on the list. We went from talking every moment of the day to, from waking up to falling asleep, to never at all. I for my part tried to text her and keep a lively conversation, but she was never interested. After a week I figured she needed some time for herself but it became clear after another week if I wasn't talking to her then I'd never hear from her again. I tried to talk to her about this, and every time she apologized and said she felt awful about not talking and she would in the next few days but she never did. I talked about my past relationship with her and how I didn't want to be in another one-sided relationship again, and just as I had made concessions for the sake of our relationship she would too. I didn't think a single hello sent to me in the span of a month would be a deal-breaker to our relationship but here we are.

We first met in September of 2019 and for almost two years I felt like, for the first time in my life, there was somebody that actually cared if I was around. Iv always had a problem with saying no to people and giving more the is proportionate and as a result, always felt used or taken advantage of. I struggle with knowing how much to contribute to any kind of relationship and it has hindered my ability to be in healthy relationships whatever form they take. For the first time in my life though I found someone who gave to me just as much as I gave to them. Unsurprisingly however they admitted to me that they suffer from that same problem and that they never focus on themselves. I don't have too many friends so I'm normally focusing on myself and it was nice to be there for someone else. However, they have a family and others to focus on and as a result, almost never get to focus on themselves. Now that they are home however they would like to focus on themselves and no longer want anything to do with me. I get that though I don’t know why you can’t focus on yourself and still send me a hello, I don't want them to talk to me because they feel pressured to. If they have decided they no longer want me in their life suddenly then all I can do is hope they are able to achieve their goal and move on. I will always love and respect them for the kindness they have shown me.

As a moral philosopher who has studied the nature of virtue, I truly believe this person to be so virtuous as to be one of the greatest people, I have ever met. An observation I came to make shortly after meeting them, and I am very grateful I had their compassion for even a short time. I thought if I could lead them down the path of some philosophical school they would be able to find the answer to the problems they had but I never knew how to do it and now it's too late. My only regret is that I couldn’t help them with the problems more. In the entirety of our relationship from the first meeting to the end we never even got into one argument. Technically we did have somewhat of a fight when she decided to tell me she could no longer be in a relationship with me and work on herself but she ended the relationship the moment she left her dorm, she just forgot to let me know. I am again deeply saddened by this but I always knew in the back of my mind she too would get bored of me and move on. It's been the thread through all my relationships dating back to that first one and I knew it would appear again, I just wish my head had told my heart. I know in every relationship you tell each other you want to spend the rest of your life with the other one but for some reason I really believed it this time, making this loss all the more crushing. I know they won’t read this as I suspect only two people ever will and that for the best, I doubt she is saddened by this whole affair but on the off chance she is I don't want them to feel bad. I have always wanted them to be happy from the start and even know that it's over. That's all I want, it's all I ever wanted truly. Plato says happiness is what happens when all three parts of the soul are doing their work well, each part representing a virtue. I’ve always been good at knowing what to do (desire) and I'm alright at knowing how to do it (reason), but I've always been horrible at doing it (courage). She led me to courage though, both for her and myself. And for those moments when the three came together through her and for her, I can truly say to have been happy. I don’t know if I ever inspired anything in her that led her to happiness but I hope she can find someone that does, and that I can come to know the courage she showed me I had myself.

[x-nerdingss-x]

Your Turn

Summary: 1943. Janus is employed as the town's telegram boy.

Context before the story if you don’t know what a telegram boy is (if you do, you can continue reading): It's basically someone, typically a young child or teenager and men who couldn't enlist or be drafted due to medical conditions or religious beliefs, who isn't drafted for fighting during WW1 or WW2, works like a postman, except their job was to deliver letters to families with members that were sent from the member's officer/higher positioned commander.

These letters weren't typically sent from the solider themselves telling their family of their experiences in the war front, but news such as the family member who fought either died during action, M.I.A (Missing in Action; normally from running away during battle or their body cannot be retrieved and therefore missing) or P.O.W (Prisoner of War; typically captured by enemy lines and like M.I.A, usually never returning back to family).

Usually telegram boys worked in towns or cities, but were generally avoided by the community because their job was to bring the unfortunate news of disaster from the front lines to the home front. They would also serve as a comfort tool for grieving families that were affected by the letter, but also delivered last letters written by the soldiers, photographs, jewellery and money - anything with value that is to be sent to the families as a memoir.Hopefully I taught someone something new today lol.

Happy reading-

(You can read this on Ao3 under XxUnknown_IntrovertsxX)

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

1943

It was early morning in a remote town, the sun rising from behind the hills with pale blue and purple colours swirling together to paint the new day. Yet to be hot for the townspeople, many were outside to do their daily activities before it got too warm, the summer heat too unbearable for anyone. Of course, it wasn’t sandy, with grass growing lightly in muddy hills near outback huts many made as homes. A light breeze blew over to the town, the heat slowly growing closer.

On a bicycle, a teenage boy travelled to the town’s post office to collect mail for the day. Putting on his black newsboy cap, the boy also wore a black and yellow striped cloak to protect his skin from the dangerous sun, yellow gloves to prevent sweat slipping from his bike handles. He said thank you to the post man behind the counter, and bid them farewell as he buckled the letters at the back of the rack of his shiny yellow bike. Yellow, so many people could see the boy clearer.

Except, that was the issue. The boy rode on his bike, and others in his town went inside their homes immediately. He would admit, it hurt the teen a little; he only wanted a few shillings like the workers in his hometown. Mothers pulled their children away from the boy, and the yellow teenager even glanced at a parent who pointed to the boy, giving the child a disapproving wag of their finger and told them to stay away from him. He knew what he was doing was the unthinkable for any family during these unprecedented times, but there was no use for being a newsboy in a small home either. Adjusting his cap, he looked onward and visited the first house.

He knocked on the door, holding a mustard splatter of an envelope in his grip. Waiting for the mother to open the door, the boy hummed as he knew who owned the house. Mrs. Realeza. Her son Remus was a friend of the boy and Roman a mere acquaintance… although someone he wouldn’t particularly talk to. The letter in his hands twisted his gut inside. He knew exactly what it was, and he gulped down his feelings. Knocking again, he rocked on the balls of his feet and tilted his head from the lack of response. What he was aware of however, was the mother was behind the locked wooden door, holding her breath with her hand covering her mouth. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and the boy knew she was the same as every other mother he had to encounter. It was still a saddened thought to consider.

The telegram boy was not supposed to know she was there.

“Mrs. Realeza,” The boy said, keeping his voice firm for the mother despite threatening to waver. “I know you’re sobbing from behind the door, but I think it’s best to know the truth.”

“No Janus, please go away - If I don’t read it, then the truth doesn’t exist.” She could feel her body shake uncontrollably, her soft whispers of denial were heard through the door. Janus mumbled to himself, controlling his own attitude for what the letter meant. In truth, he didn’t like his job, much preferring a different job; but he also felt a sense of justice when he gave the townspeople these letters. It would spare them much grief if they knew when the news came, instead of waiting for someone non-existant to return home after years of fighting a war.

“Mrs. Realeza, I don’t have two letters for you. You should know which son it is-”

“I SAID GO AWAY - NONE OF MY BOYS ARE DEAD! THEY ARE TOGETHER, THEY ARE ALIVE-”

Janus huffed, leaning his face against the crack of the door instead. “I am legally not allowed to open your letter, and even then I am against such manners. I could read it for you, with the permission of course.”

She wept quietly, wiping a tear from her eye before getting up to open the door. The mother knew what the boy was doing, and even if she hated him and his job, she couldn’t help but remember that one of her sons is a close friend of the telegram boy. He shouldn’t feel such pain or sorrow from reading the letter first hand; it was just his job to deliver them instead. A click echoed through the crack of the door, and Janus stepped back to allow room for the mother to see him properly. Clutching on the letter firmly, he had another hand behind his back. She took the first letter, and Janus waited until she read the first letter to reveal his second hand.

“Oh Remus… my baby boy…” She whispered in disbelief, her eyes dashing through the lines of the letter. Janus sniffled quietly, snaking his second hand to her. Held was another pale yellow envelope addressed to her, and he frowned when he caught a glimpse of her disbelief. Hiding one side of his face, he revealed the white, discoloured pigment of his skin and looked at her with his blurry eye instead. He couldn’t bear gazing at her grief. Hesitantly reaching out for the second letter, the mother screamed in pain as the boy recoiled from the sound, shoving the letter to her before rushing off to his bike to escape her fury.

“YOU LYING SNAKE! YOU SAID THERE WAS ONLY ONE LETTER. BOTH MY BOYS ARE GONE - YOU LYING SON OF A-”

“I had to lie, because you wouldn’t open the door otherwise.” Janus hopped onto his bike and prepared himself to dash off.

“NEVER STEP FOOT ON MY PROPERTY. CONSIDER THIS THE LAST TIME YOU’LL EVER SEE THIS HOUSE AGAIN.” She slammed the door, effectively shutting the boy from any connection he had to the family. Janus swallowed his bubbling tears, taking his hat off to give a moment for both the lost lives of Roman and Remus. His hat hovered over his chest, covering his heart with his head down. He may not have liked Roman, but even he felt a sense of sorrow for his lost life.

Two letters down, and sadly just a few more to go.

-*-

Biking around the small town, Janus took a moment for himself to find the next house. He felt the cool, metallic chain around his neck bumping into his chest, a necklace hidden under his shirt. He didn’t have a moment to think earlier, especially after reading the first letter he had to deliver, but now only one person was stuck in his mind during the whole fiasco. Janus knew fully well of the necklace, a photo of his Patton, the faith of his journey. From meeting each other in their childhoods, both boys felt a separation between them when Patton was drafted into the war just a little over a decade later. It was a shame, since Patton was 18 and Janus fell short being 17, but he promised to join Patton as soon as he could, just so they could be together again. Just a few months, Janus could be deployed to where his friend is.

He much preferred fighting than delivering the fate of those who are gone.

Janus arrived at his next house, preparing himself for giving the next letter. He also knew who this house belonged to as well, being an ex-friend of the boy. What he didn’t know was he was deployed to fight, and it didn’t sit comfortably with the knowledge that he was also gone into the hands of death. Knocking on the door curtly, he waited for the ex-friend’s father to open the door and receive the letter. It should be better; in Janus opinion, to get it over and done with. He didn’t want to suffer through the grieving process of Virgil - he doesn’t want to admit that he already cried when they departed, to only cry again when it’s fact that they’re both completely separated.

The dark oak door opened to reveal the old man, and Janus gave him an awkward wave to the man. “For you, sir.”

Unlike Mrs. Realeza, the old man gently took the letter from Janus’ jittery clasp, already aware of how uncomfortable the situation was. “Thank you, Janus.” His face curled up unnaturally, his eyes squinting to hold in his tears. Virgil… his son…

Janus had to pray for Mr. Ansia’ that night. He already knew he lost his friend, but he couldn’t dare think of how hard it was to lose his son. He would admit, he didn’t have a close connection with Virgil, and bowed down respectfully to his father before trailing off to the next house. Janus wanted the meeting to speed up, rather leaving to deliver the next letter before lunch than to remember the ex-friend that just died on the battlefield with the friend's father standing emptily on the porch. Even if Janus didn’t like Virgil, he would be a fool if he ignored the few happy times they did share. Janus would be a bigger fool if he denied that the same happiness would arrive again.

-*-

He went back on his bright bike, but didn’t speed off as quickly as the wrath of Mrs. Realeza. Instead, he rode slowly. He took his time, recollecting the memories of Virgil and taking his moments to remember him as a fallen man. It was ironic; their arguments were always about worth, and Janus can safely claim that Virgil held more worth. Despite his unnerving energy and negative views of the world, he also faced the challenges to prove something else entirely, and the yellow boy couldn’t help but respect that courage. It wouldn’t be long now; he’s counting the days till he can be in the battlefield and see Patton again.

His heart fluttered when he thought of Patton, a small smile curling in his lips and closed his eyes to imagine the soon-to-be encounter. What could he say? Oh how he missed him. He missed the golden curls, the baby blue eyes and toothy smile the other would wear a lot. He missed the blue shirt and grey cardigan hugging his shoulders, but Janus couldn’t wait to see him again in his military uniform, wearing it alongside him with pride. The boy didn’t notice he went off trail to the next house, and turned into a small corner to where it should be. A shortcut, in a sense.

Unlike the previous three letters, he didn’t recognise the next house as well. He only saw a boy walking inside it once from the way home from school, a year or two above his own. Janus only started high school whereas the other looked like he was attending for a while, far too tall for his already short legs.

Arriving at the house, he took a few minutes to gaze at the place before stepping foot to break the news. Familiarising himself with the neatly tended gardens and swing set on the porch, he also noticed how it was made from brick compared to the lazy wooden timbre for structure. An outdoor lamp sat coolly under the shade, small flickers of light bounced from the electricity the house swam with. He was far too distracted, never noticing the parents who chatted together near the fence of the front yard. Taking a glimpse of them, Janus could tell the older boy wasn’t just an ordinary student. With a house that looked neat, tidy and well mannered to his parents, Janus could assume he was rich.

The mother had her hair wrapped onto a bun, wearing an all black dress with a cardigan to protect her forearms. She had a large hat on top, with black and blue feathers puffing the look. The father looked no different, except for the dark blue tie and white shirt tucked under his black pants. If Janus had to guess, they looked rich; possibly a scientist or business owner. It would make sense if the older boy could continue learning for so long, since many high school dropouts like Janus had to quit from the lack of money to continue.

“We assume you’re the telegram boy?” The man asked, strolling over to him. “I’m afraid you’re a bit too late, since we just came home from his funeral.”

Too late?

“What has to come I say,” The mother said. “We would appreciate what his officers said though, check if he managed to make any colleagues while fighting.” She neatly folded a handkerchief she held onto a pocket of her dress. “Come inside, I’ll get us some biscuits to pass the time.”

Beckoning him to come, Janus propped his bike against the wooden fence and followed them past their blooming garden. It didn’t sit right inside him, as if he was intruding inside a home of someone who passed rather than like he was a guest. A little funny though… the parents didn’t seem so shocked or surprised by their son’s death, almost like they expected it to come.

China plates were displayed in the cabinet by the kitchen, which was down the hall from where they all entered. It was a big house, like it was small from the outside but bigger on the inside. Janus could spot the living room just a few metres away, with a fireplace and television - wait, television? How rich are they? He wanted to sneak away and inspect the television, never imagining to see one for himself. Of course, it would be considered rude, and he was named Janus Classy Sanders for a reason; named from Patton, who he wore the title with pride.

“We never thought he'd come back in the first place. Despite our protests for him to stay, he wanted to join anyway for the opportunities granted for him after. He even said if he died, we would collect the military funds he organised for us.” His father said when he strolled to the kitchen. Grabbing some drinks and glass, he settled them on the table and waited for the teenager to join them in the room. “We don’t even need the money, thinking of giving it away in fact.”

“Perhaps you’ll want it dear? You look like a smart boy. Would you say you wanna go to university? It would be nice for a kid from this town to go to one anyway if he wasn’t the one to do it - a shame, since you’re the only kid in this town left.” The mother quipped, changing from her black to a cosy blue. Janus blinked from the odd behaviour, but thought nothing of it.

“I stopped high school just a few months ago because we couldn’t afford the classes. Working for the money is fine,” He said.

“But we insist. Logan would’ve wanted the money to go towards an education than to nothing anyway - he was going to be a teacher you know? Teaching children who couldn’t afford schooling anymore.”

Logan?

“I mean, if it’s a good cause…” Janus trailed off. He would admit, he would like the money and actually finish what he wanted to be in the first place, a lawyer, and Patton always said to strive for opportunities if it meant for the better. “Would you both like the letter?” He asked.

“Oh sure,” Janus handed Logan’s father the letter first, waiting patiently as he scanned the letter from the officer first. A simple message, nothing grand or extravagant. “It seems he only had a letter from the officer, dear. No comments from anyone else, friend or colleague.”

Both Logan’s parents took a moment of silence, frowns evident in their faces. A sense of melancholy washed over the room, and Janus gulped down the unforgivable sadness. A tear welled up in their eyes before either of them could mutter, wiping them off quickly and returning to a blank, apathetic look they mustered in front of the telegram boy earlier.. “Shame…”

Janus bowed his head before taking his leave, after they explained how the funds would work. After the discussion however, Janus noticed the sun rising steadily north and bid them farewell, his mind curiously checking them from behind the walls to sense any distress. He knew some families held a ‘front’ in front of the boy, acting as if it’ll comfort him from the terrors and reality of war. His head sunk when he heard a female wail from behind closed doors, knowing this was the reality as well.

-*-

“One more letter, just one more,” he told himself when he got back to his bike. The seat was warm and the metal too hot to touch with bare skin, but he hummed when he picked the letter up to see who it was for. “I wonder who it’s for…” He sang the last line.

J. Sanders.

From: US military division, officer T. S.

Janus ceased his eyebrows when he noted the letter, ensuring it was a telegram instead of a normal letter. He knew it should be a telegram, delivering them to almost half his town, but he never received mail anyway. Not even Patton sent him letters for a few months now, so what could this mean? Strolling to the undercover shade with his bike, Janus plopped himself on a grassy hill nearby Logan’s house to read the letter. He should’ve probably given it to his mother, as it could’ve been a relative who had their tragic demise (although, did any of his family join the war?)

He took out the necklace that had Patton’s memory and clutched on it. At least it felt like he was there with him to read the letter alongside him; he was always better when it came for emotional support. Slowly tearing the letter open, he took note to keep the envelope in a decent condition, so if his mother were to read it later, then the letter should be nicely protected. The yellow mustard of a colour was boring into Janus’ mind, and he yanked the letter from the envelope before he could overthink the contents. The worst that could be was Patton, but that’s his mind spitting nonsensical ideas.

Opening the envelope, he slowly rubbed his thumb over the page, the ink print trailing over the touch. All he had to do was read the first letter of the note, and the strong, cold-fronted boy to other widows/vilomahs/orphans could now feel the same feeling of those who grieved: the loss of someone they deeply loved.

Janus. C. Sanders,

Patton Walds, a member and soldier of the US army in participation in WW2 is M.I.A. His father was killed in gunfire just a few weeks earlier, and is suspected Patton was missing since 1st November, 1942. If there was no letter written during those few months, then it is safe to claim he is missing in action. As a dear friend, it is to commemorate his loss, as it is recorded of his lack of family to write to. Contents are included in this letter, such as a necklace he disposed of before his missing report, as well as letters that were kept with that necklace.

Sorry for the loss, and may your prayers be heard.

Officer Lieutenant T. S.

Janus blinked quickly, a tear shedding onto the paper held in his hands. He quickly wiped his face to avoid smudging the ink, knowing his mother should read this with him later. A small cry left his mouth, his throat closing up and his breaths quickly pacing into short gasps. Patton - Patton, no, his friend, why? They were meant to meet just in a few months, they were so close to seeing each other again. Janus took a few deep breaths before he could empty the envelope’s contents, a letter and necklace left to show Patton’s last moments of existence. A pain gripped inside his chest, and he tugged on his hair when more thoughts of his disappearance flooded his mind. Why? Why?

A golden chain fell onto the lively grass, although it felt like nothing when Janus skimmed over the long blades of green. His touch felt numb against the chain, skipping the cool, cold chain and instead opened the locket that hung with the necklace. A photo of him was printed onto the locket, with Patton hugging him from behind. As he closed the locket, he trailed over the faint graving of a love heart printed onto the metal. He slid the locket off the chain, and took off his own necklace to add the new locket beside his. His photo of Patton, with a swirly snake engraved instead was together with the heart of his friend.

Janus picked up Patton’s last letter, his expression curled into a scowl when he whimpered out the pain inside him. The words became a blur to him, from both his watery vision and his mind’s struggle to comprehend the scenario, let alone the words printed on the page. He didn’t want to read it - he couldn’t read it. Soon a small wail tugged inside him, clenching his fists as he curled up into a small ball. He was alone in this remote town, the summer sky blazing over his dark clothing and slowly burning his skin. The boy didn’t care.

Now, he supposed; he knew how the other families felt. Logan’s parents were right, their words spat like facts instead of a simple statement. He is the only kid left in this town.

It was his turn to grieve.

[p-artsypants]

Longest Night (37) Discovering

Before we get into this chapter, I want to state there’s Alya salt in here. I really like Alya, I do. I think she’s a great character, because she’s not a perfect person. So don’t think I dislike her because I’m being critical of her.

Ao3 | FF.net

—

In the hospital, one does not have the luxury of independence.

Marinette never did consent to using the bedpan, but she was slowly getting used to John escorting her to the bathroom, and helping her do her duties. It was embarrassing, and she hated it.

On such an occasion, Marinette cried as John undid the ties on her robe. “What’s wrong dear?”

She sniffed. “I just hate being like this.”

“I know it’s pretty strange having someone watch you, but it shouldn’t be too long before you’re on your own.”

She winced slightly, finding her confession sad. “Actually…I’m used to being watched now…I’m not used to using a toilet.”

John just gave her a reassuring smile. “Then I’m glad you insisted on using the toilet instead of bedpan. You are making the conscious decision to create human habits. After substantial trauma, like what you’ve suffered, many people would really fall into dehumanized behavior. Not cleaning up after themselves, not using toilets, eating expired foods, really just not taking care of themselves in general. So for you to say, ’no, I want to use the bathroom like a big girl’ instead of ‘whatever, I’ll just lay here’ is really encouraging to me.”

“I still want to lie in bed.”

“I would be surprised if you didn’t.”

Once she was done, John helped her back into bed. “How’s your pain level?”

“Fine. My back aches.”

“Do you want some Valium? You can have some in an hour.”

“Can I have something lighter?”

John smiled. “Man Marinette, you really know how to reassure a nurse. Ibuprofen sound good?”

“That’ll hit the spot.” She couldn’t help but laugh.

John smiled too, only for it to fade slightly. “So, Marinette. I have to let you know, there’s someone here that’s been wanting to see you, but we had to make sure you were up for it.”

“Oh? Who’s that?”

“Would you like me to tell you? Or do you want to be surprised?”

She screwed up her lips. “Is it Adrien?”

“It’s not Adrien, unfortunately.”

She frowned slightly.

“I hear she’s a friend of yours.”

“It’s not Lila, is it?” She asked with fear.

“No, that’s not her name.”

Marinette shrugged. “I guess surprise me. I’m out of guesses.”

“Alright, I’ll go get her.”

Sabine, who had been sitting patiently nearby, took her hand and nodded in reassurance.

In the minutes that ticked by, Marinette grew uneasy. There weren’t many female friends she was comfortable seeing right now.

While Salo’s torment was still the most prevalent thing in her mind, the sting of betrayal from Lila had never subsided. How hypocritical of her classmates to come here and wish her well after they humiliated her and betrayed her? What would they have to gain?

Would it be from guilt? Or just because they didn’t want to be on Ladybug’s bad side?

“I think I changed my mind,” She told her mother. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

Sabine nodded in understanding. “Alright, I’ll stop them before they come in.”

But she was a little too late, since John had returned, with Alya in tow.

“Hey girl…” She said softly.

Marinette shook her head. “No, no I can’t handle this. Not her. I can’t—“ Her throat squeezed, and it took a few tries to swallow.

“Marinette,” Alya spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “I know the last time we talked, things weren’t great…”

“I don’t want to talk to her,” Marinette interrupted, telling John.

“Please, just hear me out!” Alya begged.

“Why should I?” Marinette stared her down with a ruthless gaze. “You never listened to me. I was just jealous of Lila when I told you she was lying. I was a coward when I wasn’t ready to confess to Adrien. I wasn’t journalistic when I warned you about posting stuff on your blog. You were always telling me I was wrong. So why should I listen to you now? Because you know I’m Ladybug? Because you’re my biggest fan?” She shrugged, gesturing her to answer.

“Well…” Alya started, but then stopped. She was really speechless. She shrugged. “You’re not wrong. I wasn’t always a good friend. But I love you, I love Marinette, more than Ladybug.”

“Then why didn’t you believe me? Why weren’t you there for me when I needed you? Why was Lila telling the world I wasn’t actually in pain?”

Alya frantically wiped her tears away, trying to speak, but finding it too hard to.

Sabine just sighed sadly. “Alya punched Lila in the face in our living room.”

“Twice,” Alya sniffed. “Once in the living room, and once at school. After that, I wasn’t really allowed to be around her.”

Marinette shook her head in disbelief.

“The day you went missing,” she began her tale. “Your mom called Nino and I. We were scared that because of what had happened at school, something was wrong. Maybe you had been akumatized or something. I didn’t know. So we went to everyone’s house, gathering a search party, and we looked all over Paris. Around dinner time, we returned to the bakery to regroup. Adrien’s dad was there, because Adrien hadn’t come home either, and that akuma was still on the loose. Then…she came on the TV.”

Marinette’s anger had begun to subside, as she listened intently.

“I got this sinking feeling in my gut when I saw Ladybug and Chat Noir tied up like that. My brain just kept echoing ‘what if? what if?’ and then…the masks fell. I was horrified. I honestly don’t remember much of what happened after that. I know there was yelling, and I punched Lila…but everyone knew the truth. Lila confessed she had lied.”

“So she found new targets.” Marinette supplied.  

“Exactly.” Alya continued, “Not long after, she was starting her web at school, talking with other students and some of our more…optimistic classmates into her lies. I just snapped. She was on the ground, bleeding, and then I heard Hawkmoth in my head.”

“You got akumatized over me?”

“I fought it off. Because I knew it wasn’t going to help. But I got his attention.”

A strange tingle tickled at the back of Marinette’s head. A moment in the rain, screams of terror. It all sort of blended together with everything else that she had been through.

She willed it away with a shake of the head. “I thought everyone believed her. I thought they believed it was…some sort of performance? I don’t remember what she said. But she convinced everyone it was fake.”

Alya shook her head, “No, not everyone. Just a tiny sliver of people. A loud sliver of people. You know Lila, she’s got that…wicked charisma that just ropes people in. She’s a manipulator, and she has to be in the lime light.”

“Yeah, I know.” Another flash of something familiar, Lila with bloody hands over her mouth.

Was it a dream? Or a hallucination from the drugs?

“Nino and I watched every scrap of the stream. We worked with detectives and analyzed everything we could. We even did our own searches around town. Rena Rouge and Carapace were spotted too.” She took her laptop out from her bag and opened it up. “And on the blog, I had some volunteers help summarize and write out all the dialogue. EUROPOL used it for clues to find you.”

A question that should have been asked a while ago came to mind, but she hadn’t even considered it yet. “How did we get out? Who rescued us?”

Alya bit her lip and looked at Sabine, who in turn looked at the nurse.

John shrugged. “You may as well tell her now. She’ll have to find out at some point.”

“Find out what?”

“Marinette...you and Adrien were akumatized.”

Marinette felt her skin grow cold and her hands become clammy. She reached for her water to help swallow the lump on her throat. “Oh.”

Oh? Oh? That’s the best she had? Ladybug! Akumatized! That’s the worst thing that could happen!

Not only had she failed as a superhero, her enemy had to bail her out!

Hawkmoth had saved them. And given that Tikki was still with her, he hadn’t even taken the Miraculous.

Was she that pitiful to him? Or did he have something much worse in store?

“I don’t...I don’t remember.” She whispered after drinking. He cup rattled in her hand.

“No one does.” Alya reminded, gently. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Did we hurt anyone?”

Sabine reached over and squeezed her knee. “You gave me your earrings, and I did a Miraculous Cure.”

“But did we hurt anyone? I lost my memories, but no one else would have!”

John squeezed her shoulder. “Marinette, you need to take a deep breath. Your blood pressure is rising.”

“I don’t care about my god damn blood pressure!” She shouted.

“Okay, this conversation is over,” He declared. “Alya, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Marinette grabbed him back, digging her fingernails into his arm. “Not yet.”

John sighed. “First you wanted her to leave, now you want her to stay?”

“I need answers. Everyone knows everything. But I’ve literally been in the dark this whole time. What happened? What did I do?!”

Alya took a calming, considering breath. “Okay, I’ll tell you everything, but we’re going to cover it slowly and calmly. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I can’t be hurt any worse than I have been, stop treating me like a fragile old woman!”

“Please calm down.”

“Calm down?! No! I’m not going to calm down! I was akumatized! My identity was exposed, my miraculous stolen, I was beaten and tortured for god who knows how long! I watched the love of my life slowly die in my arms! And Hawkmoth finally got me! I have failed all the way across the board! So what else, huh? What did I do? Go on a murder spree!? Because not only was Paris disappointed in me, but are they scared of me now, too? What’s next!? Prison? The guillotine?!”

“Marinette, you’re hysterical.” Sabine warned.

“Oh shut up, I’m allowed to be!” Marinette snapped, her voice cracking. “And I’m only getting angrier the more you all withhold information from me! So speak!”

Alya nodded. “Yeah…yeah, you…you guys killed some people.”

Marinette clenched her eyes shut, nodding harshly. “Yeah, okay. Like, Salo and her men? On camera?”

“Yes, and—and some others.”

“How many?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“HOW MANY, ALYA!?” She shrieked.

Alya covered her eyes with her hands, scared to look at her friend and admit this out loud. “Final body count was 47 people. Mostly people who worked for Salo and Edward Savage, but also some police officers and some civilians that got caught in the crossfire.”

Information is what she wanted. And it’s what she got.

But god, did it hurt.

“They all came back then? With the cure?”

“As far as we know, yes.” Sabine soothed. “No one has tried to press charges or anything either.”

“What are they saying about us? What are they telling Paris? Will we...will we have to leave?”

Sabine shook her head. “I haven’t had the stomach to listen to the news.”

“Most people have been very supportive of you both, especially Nadja Chamack,” Alya provided. “There’s been a lot of back and forth and critics having their opinions. But it’s mostly garbage. They’ll be forgotten.”

“From what I’ve seen,” John interjected. “This isn’t like most political arguments where there’s hidden information. Everyone knows what happened. Everyone has the same information. Anyone arguing otherwise is being brutally shut down. It’s kind of the silver lining to this all being broadcasted.”

Sabine squeezed her daughters hand. “No matter what, you have plenty of people ready to support you. So don’t worry about Paris. Worry about you and Adrien.”

Marinette looked to Tikki, who patiently sat in her hands. She grazed her thumb over her cheek absently as her mind wandered.

“All these resources, EUROPOL, the police...if no one else was able to find us, how did Hawkmoth? And why didn’t he take my Miraculous?”

Sabine and Alya shared a subtle look. Marinette hadn’t wanted them to withhold information, but how were they supposed to tell her that her new father-in-law was also her arch-enemy that they had been battling for years?

“I think it’s best if he tell you that. I’m sure he’ll appear sometime.” Alya winced.

Before Marinette could grill her more about the vague answer, there was a knock on the door before Gabriel entered. He had a dress bag over his arm and a gift bag in the other.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asked gently.

“Just an interrogation,” Sabine said lightly.

“What do you want?” Marinette demanded.

“Just to say hi, and ask how you’re doing.”

“Hi. I’m peachy.” Though her tone said otherwise.

“Would you be opposed to gifts?”

Marinette blanched. “I don’t know if I deserve any gifts.”

“Of course you do.” He entered the room fully. “One isn’t quite ready yet actually, but I thought it might cheer you up.”

Marinette managed a weak smile as he set the gift bag in her lap. “Here, open this first.”

She pulled out the wrapping paper, only to find a small white box. Inside, a brand new, top of the line, very expensive, smartphone.

“It’s already set up. It should have all your contacts, as well as myself. This way if you need anything and someone’s not here, we can get it for you.”

Holding the device in her hand, Marinette felt some tightness in her chest subsiding. That horrible feeling of dependence waned with the world at her finger tips. Because besides being able to contact people, she’d be able to see for herself what was going on in the world. What people were saying about her.

“And one other thing,” he stated as he draped the garment bag over her legs. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I studied your sketchbook. I wanted to get this as close as possible to what you imagined.”

He undid the zipper, revealing a light pink garment. A dress, with a silvery lace bodice, that continued into the transparent wrist length sleeves. The skirt was full and unfurled from the bag. Right in the front of the skirt was an intricately hand stitched Phoenix, in rose color thread.

Her dream wedding dress.

Speechless, Marinette reached out to touch the pink silk, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed. “I...I don’t know...why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do such a thing? For me?”

“Marinette?”

“I don’t know why...you’re even talking to me? I—I’m the reason Adrien’s so hurt. You know that, right? It was my mistake?”

Sabine squeezed her shoulder. “Marinette...”

Gabriel leaned closer to get to eye level. “You didn’t torture him. You didn’t kill anyone during a drug deal. You’re not a fault.”

“But—“

“Listen.” He sat on the bed next to her. “I know I’m not the easiest person to understand. And that’s my fault. You don’t have to accept this dress if you don’t want to. I still want to give it to you, no strings attached. Because your marriage to Adrien is legal and binding, which makes you my kid now too. And I’m fiercely protective of my kids.”

She clenched her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry. Her fingers tangled in the fabric and crumpled it. “I can’t wear this...it’s so beautiful...and I’m hideous.”

“You’re not, girl.” Alya assured. “You look rough, not gonna lie, but you’re not hideous.”

“All things in due time,” Gabriel patted her hand. “When you are both ready, we’ll have a proper ceremony. Alright? Whatever you want.”

She nodded heavily. “Thank you...thank you...”

[multisugars]

𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 — my whole world

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬// 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

decided to step out of my comfort zone and write something a little darker...hope y’all like it!! :)

even the most fragile people succumb to the greatest tragedies. as you anxiously strolled through the empty halls of the hospital your mind couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain and suffering the kindest people experience in their lives. especially when they don’t do anything to deserve it. you thought about how much johnny has been put through specifically. abuse. hatred. abandonment by the only two people in this world that should be the ones wanting to protect him from harm and offer him unconditional love. your heart shattered when you realized that the only true family he’s ever known is the gang....and you. tears welled in your eyes as you stepped into the hospital room. it had been hours since you’ve last seen him. the nurses wouldn’t allow you back because you weren’t considered biological family. but right now you’re all he has. at least, until the rest of the boys show up.

so much had happened in the last few hours and you just wanted to see johnny. a part of you always felt empty without him.

he smiles at you when you finally lock eyes. like he does. even when something is wrong. you’re always telling him how much his smile makes the world more beautiful. the nurses are just finishing up the rest of his stitches. his facial expressions changing every now and then depending on the nurses actions. you reach over and place your hand on his shoulder, not wanting to touch his busted up hand in case it’s still sore. just as he’s about to say something you hear a knock on the door behind you.

as you turn your head it’s no surprise who you see first. dally. of course he’d be the one to show up first. you were always thanking dally for caring so much about johnny, it gave you comfort knowing that the one and only dallas winston had his back, along with everyone else. behind him stood the rest of the gang. two-bits shirt is still covered in blood. your blood.

it all happened so fast. one second you were going to meet johnny at his house and the next you were caught in the middle of a fight between johnny and his parents. your mind went blank, you lost time after you saw his dad violently throwing him to the ground, kicking him as his mom stood watching. you were so furious all you wanted to do was protect him. the next thing you remember is laying on the ground barely able to move, you could faintly make out a few figures running towards you and johnny.

two-bit crouched down beside you, lifting the bottom half of his shirt to your bleeding mouth. you were confused at first because you couldn’t feel any pain. but then you looked down and saw how much you were actually bleeding. but from what? that, you couldn’t remember. sodapop and darry picked johnny up from the ground and carried him over to the car. dally helped two-bit with you, lightly grabbing onto your arm to help you to your feet.

“damn kid you took a hell of a punch,” dal said reaching his hand up to turn your face so he could see the full extent of your injury. “it’s bad but nothing you’ll loose teeth over.”

“she’s bleeding pretty bad though,” two-bit says. “probably from her lip?”

dal nods and you make your way to the car. they put you in the back with johnny and the rest hop into a different vehicle. once you started to come to you were more worried about johnny who had barely even said two words since they moved him.

“his daddy was beating him pretty good, i tried to stop him but i think he hit me before i could even do anything,” you told.

“yeah he knocked ya out cold,” two-bit adds. “we was pulling up right as he went for ya.”

“i just hope he��s okay,” your hand brushes gently against johnny’s bruised cheek.

the car halted in front of the er entrance. you got out so they boys could pull out johnny easily without hurting him even more. the rest of the boys rushed over to you, concern washing over their faces as you turned to them. your injuries weren’t bad. only one hard punch to the face, but it was definitely enough to leave a mark. you could feel your lip was swelled and your blood was beginning to dry around your mouth, leaving a metallic like taste behind whenever you talked. you haven’t seen yourself yet but from the looks you’re getting it can’t be pretty.

the next time you saw johnny was at this moment. he looked so much better. there wasn’t any more blood covering his face and his cheek is all stitched up, it’s looks painful but you’re glad he’s here getting the help he needs. you know if he wouldn’t have been knocked out he would not have agreed to come here.

he didn’t seem upset though, more hurt than anything. sadly this wasn’t the first time he’d been brought here because of his parents. but you were certain it was going to be the last. the rest of the guys approach you and johnny, darry hands you a cute teddy bear that he picked up at the gift shop. two-bit and pony must have stopped by your house as they hand you a clean pair of clothes.

“thanks guys,” you say as softly as you can so your lip doesn’t start to ache.

you head to the bathroom that’s in the back of room. locking the door behind you, quickly changing. it wasn’t something you would picked out for yourself but you knew they were trying and you appreciated the effort. you pulled your hair up in a messy bun, cleaned the blood off your mouth and chin, and put some ointment on your lip before returning back to the boys. johnny seemed to be in better spirits.

“hey y/n..i’m really sorry,” he said as he looked down the floor. “you weren’t suppose to get hurt.”

“johnny...” you sat beside him. “it was my choice okay, i thought i could somehow help the situation but i guess i made it worse,” you shake your head.

“hey now y/n,” darry steps forward. “what you did was brave. there aren’t a lot of people in this world who would jump in the face of danger for a friend,” he pauses. “good on ya kid.”

you smile for the first time that day. dal walks up beside you and gives you a comforting pat on your back before doing the same to johnny. he wasn’t much for hugs or attention in general, but this small gesture spoke volumes.

“okay so i know johnny isn’t about to go back to that hell house tonight, right?” steve adds. “i mean look at the kid.”

“no he’s staying with us,” ponyboy chimes in. “forever if he wants to.”

johnny’s face lights up, his eyes are glassy, almost like he’s holding back tears.

“really darry, ya don’t mind?”

“nah you’re pretty much at our place more the yours anyway and i’d feel a whole lot better knowing that you’re safe.”

johnny gets up from the bed and gives darry the most heartwarming hug you’ve ever seen.

“it’s not like my parents would notice anyway,” he joked.

after you all get your stuff you pack up and get ready to leave. darry somehow convinced the hospital not to contact the police. you were confused as to why at first, but then dally explained if his folks went to jail then there would be no one to look after him, and with him being a minor and all he’d most likely just be sent to a boys home. so the plan was for johnny to stay at the curtis house as much as possible. you offered to go over to johnny’s house tomorrow to pick up any clothes or anything else he needed, but the boys said they’d take care of it.

everyone went their separate ways outside, dal went to bucks, two-bit went home and steve followed. the rest you piled into the car so darry could drive you home. you weren’t looking forward to explaining the fat lip and bruise to your parents but if you told them what happened you knew they’d have some compassion. the drive was about 15 minutes from the hospital to your house. it was silent for the most part. you think to yourself how they must be handling the situation that unfortunately consumed your day. you wish you could start over, but only in a dream is that possible.

darry pulls up into your driveway, you could see your parents light still on. you say your goodbyes one last time before exiting the car. darry waits for you to get to the front door but before you can open it you hear footsteps from behind you. you turn quickly and see johnny. he has his hands stuffed down in his pockets, you could see his breath float into the air from how cold it was outside.

“johnny? something wrong?” you ask concerned.

“no nothing,” he smiles shyly.” i just wanted to to talk to ya.”

he takes a couple deep breathes before stepping a little closer to you. your heart rate beating inside your chest at what feels like mile of minute. he looks up at you his brown eyes glistening from the moonlight.

“i just wanted to say how much i really appreciate you tryin’ to help me today, i know it couldn’t have been easy but you did it.”

“it’s no problem johnny.” you reach over interlocking your fingers with his. “and i’d do it again.”

he looks up at you, clearly in shock that someone would be willing to put themselves in danger for him. his eyes keep going back and fourth from your lips back to your eyes. he wants to kiss you but with your busted lip he decides not too. instead he leans forward kissing your cheek in the most precious way you could ever imagine.

with one last glance between you two he makes his way back towards the car, where you could see the curtis brothers with the biggest smiles of their faces.

before johnny gets back into the car he can’t help but whisper something quietly to himself...

“she changes my whole world...”

[votederpycausemufins]

Red: ch. 14 Scarlet

this is cross posted on Ao3 (my username is causemufins)

Chloé needs to fight Marinette as a new ladybug.

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

    Chloé quickly put in the ladybug earrings. They felt different than the copies she sometimes wore, almost like there was a slight tingle of electricity flowing between them and her skin.

    Looking up, the blonde saw Tikki phase through the nearby wall of the closet Chloé was hiding in knowing she would be transforming soon. “Alright, so I know it’s buzz on for the bee miraculous but what is it for you?”

    “You need to say spots on. I believe you know the rest.”

    “Yeah. Lucky Charm for the object, catch the akuma in the yo-yo, Miraculous Ladybug for changing everything back, right?”

    Tikki nodded before Chloe said the transformation phrase. Moments later, she had become the new ladybug hero and burst out of the closet to get to the classroom. She quickly made her way into where the other students were, seeing them in a panic, and she started to look around for the akuma. No one was akumatized just yet, so getting the butterfly now would be useful. The problem was, she couldn’t see it.

    “Ladybug! We saw an- wait, you’re not Ladybug.” Nino was the first to approach Chloé. “Where’s Ladybug and who are you?”

    Chloé kept looking around the room as she replied. “Ladybug isn’t available. She gave me the earrings to be a temporary holder. I haven’t figured out the name yet because right now we have other things to deal with.”

    Then she saw it. The black butterfly was moving towards the side of the class where Lila was. Chloé wasn’t going to let that girl get akumatized again, so she quickly grabbed her yo-yo. Unfortunately Lila noticed the akuma at the same time and reached to grab it. Chloé watched in horror as everything seemed to slow down. Lila’s hand went towards the butterfly. Alya saw too and went to stop Lila but was too far away. Lila’s hand was right around the butterfly and… she just barely missed and the akuma went through the wall of the classroom.

    Alya, Lila and Chloé both stared at the wall. Alya was the first to realize what that meant and immediately shouted the answer. “It’s going for Marinette!”

    The entire class looked over at Alya as Chloé ran out of the room at the same time. She had to get there before the butterfly did. Unfortunately, while it could go through whatever it pleased, Chloé had to go around any walls and such. Because of that, she ended up getting to Marinette just as it went into purse.

    Chloé couldn’t help but shout as the butterfly symbol appeared around Marinette’s face. “Marinette! Fight it! I know you can!”

    With both Chloé and Jagged Stone there, Marinette was doing her best to ignore Hawkmoth, but it was still hard. Chloé may have been able to fight off Hawkmoth to the point it impressed others, but her feelings weren’t the same as everyone else’s. Marinette had been suffering longer so her negative emotions were stronger.

    Chloé stared a bit longer at Marinette before shaking her head to clear her mind. Marinette was fighting it so she could break the purse now. Quickly she rushed to the designer’s side and pulled away her purse before tearing it apart. Or at least she tried. Chloé could tell the transformation made her stronger, definitely strong enough that she should be able to destroy the purse, but it wasn’t breaking. Then out of nowhere, Marinette yanked the purse back before transforming, causing Chloé to jump back.

    Marinette’s skin became a powder pink color. The sclera of her eye changed from white to a bright hot pink with her irises becoming a dark indigo color. A black mask appeared on her face and her pigtails had grown much longer with hot pink bows replacing her red hair ties. She wore a short pink dress that was deep raspberry color with accents of black and hot pink. Under the skirt were light pink ruffles in multiple layers, making the skirt poof out. Around her waist was a black corset with hot pink ribbons crossing in the front making a small bow near the top. Her shoes seemed to be high heels that were black that seemed to move into a full body suit under the dress that extended to her arms and into a fingerless glove style. Her purse had grows to quadruple its normal size and was the same raspberry color of the dress with light pink frills and a black strap.

    “Marinette…” Chloé said sadly. Before she had started to turn around and try to be nicer, there were times where she was nervous about Marinette becoming an akuma. Chloé had had a number of akumatized people come after her, but Marinette would have had negative feelings that were piled up over the years. Now it was finally here, and surprisingly she wasn’t the target. Well, as the new Ladybug she was, but the true target was the rest of the class.

    “My name is Needle Point. You and I don’t have to fight if you give me your miraculous now. Being new, you’ll be at a disadvantage.”

    Chloé shook her head. “I may not be Ladybug, but I’m going to stop you. Because… I’m Scarlet Lady! And it’s my job!”

    Needle Point scoffed and reached into her bag, pulling out a giant needle that shouldn’t have actually fit inside, and then wielding it like a sword. “Have it your way!” The needle slashed down, but Scarlet was pulled out of the way.

    “Wait, you’re not Ladybug.” Chat Noir looked at Scarlet in confusion. “Where is she?”

    Scarlet pushed Chat away. “I’m Scarlet Lady. I’m filling in for Ladybug because she’s… unavailable.”

    Chat pouted, making Scarlet shove him over. “Look, I’ve never been a supporter of you and Ladybug getting together. Honestly, I think she deserves better than a mangy cat like you. But like it or not, you have been working together since the beginning so I need your help.”

    “Alright then. Can I call you Scar?” Chat asked, getting up and brushing himself off.

    “Fine, whatever. At least I’m not permanent. So how does this normally work?”

    Chat put a hand to his chin. “Well technically we just need the lucky charm to help us get to the akumatized object and break it, but getting to a point where we’re able to use it is the trick. Normally there’s civilians nearby or they’re not in the right place or sometimes we don’t have everything we need. I mean, the lucky charm is only part of the solution.”

    Scarlet nodded. “Alright. Well what I know is Marinette is the one akumatized. I believe you know her?”

    “Oh no! My purrincess has been akumatized?” Chat lamented.

    “Yes, and my best bet for who she’s after are Lila Rossi and possibly Adrien Agreste.”

    “What?” Chat Noir gave Scarlett a confused look. “I know about Lila Rossi and her lies, but why Adrien?”

    “Well he- at least I heard that Adrien has known about Lila’s lies and has done nothing to help Marinette.”

    “Well the lies weren’t hurting anyone, were they?”

    Scarlet’s jaw dropped and she stared at Chat Noir before slapping him. “You idiot! Not hurting anyone? First of all, lies can hurt a whole hell of a lot. Small ones, maybe, but when it leads to someone getting bullied? Of course it’s hurting them! Second of all, Marinette is akumatized right now! Lila’s lies caused this! Even if the lies didn’t do any physical harm, think of the emotional harm that happens when even your closest friends believe a liar over you! Especially when we have a villain that specifically goes after negative emotions!”

    Chat Noir opened his mouth to speak, but there was suddenly a sound of something whizzing through the air, leaving the two heroes only a moment to jump out of the way before multiple knitting needles impaled themselves in the wall.

    Turning to the direction they came from, Scarlet and Chat saw Needle Point walking towards them. “You thought you could ignore me? Just like everyone else? Push me to the side like I’m unimportant? Even as a villain am I not worth the bother?!”

    “No, we were actually discussing you. Chat here was the one who was dismissing you.” Scarlet replied with a gesture to the cat, who gave her a betrayed look.

    “Lucky for you, that sounds about right.” Needle Point conceded before pulling out a large ball of yarn with a few normal sized needles in it, keeping the ball from unravelling but still with a long piece of yarn free from the ball. As she tied a loop at the end of the string, Scarlet recognized it as the akuma’s version of a makeshift yo-yo. She quickly used her own to hit the ball away as it was flung towards Chat Noir, likely to tie him up.

    “Sorry Needle Point. I may hate him too, but I unfortunately need him. And apparently you need him too because of his miraculous. That makes me wonder, why are you helping Hawkmoth? Is he helping you?” Scarlet kept talking as Needle Point tried attacking. She may be Scarlet Lady now, but that didn’t mean she was experienced with using the powers. They weren’t quite the same as being Queen Bee. That meant she needed her natural skills, such as manipulation. It might not be as powerful as certain other people in the class, but it would hopefully be enough against Needle Point.

    “I’m getting my revenge against my class! I told them again and again that Lila was lying, but they didn’t listen to me, they only finally listened to Jagged Stone and even then it wasn’t my idea to bring him here!”

    Scarlet winced, knowing at least that last part was her fault. “So? If anything, they’ll be more upset at you now for helping Hawkmoth. You’re just making it worse!”

    That made Needle Point pause. Scarlet’s comment made sense. Hawkmoth wasn’t helping. “Then… Then I’ll just take them for myself! You don’t deserve them anyway! I’ve helped everyone and they never repay me! I should have the power of the miraculous for myself!”

    Scarlet mentally face palmed at how her idea had backfired. At least maybe not completely as a butterfly outline appeared around Needle Point’s face. Hawkmoth didn’t seem to like that his akuma wanted the miraculous for herself. As Needle talked with the villain, Scarlet grabbed Chat Noir’s arm and dragged him away. “Let’s round up her class so we can get them somewhere safe. Likely a few of them have already tried escaping, so we won’t have all of them, but the more we can find, the better, especially those few we saw.”

    “Um, well, I think I saw Adrien escaping already.” Chat mentioned, causing Scarlet to curse.

    “Of course. He is the kind of person who would want to avoid conflict at all costs.” Scarlet grumbled, not noticing Chat’s offended look. “You look for Lila then. I think I can round up the rest of the class. No, wait. Lila’s tricky. You deal with the class.”

    Scarlet raced off, looking for the liar. It fortunately didn’t take long, though that was because Needle Point had her already and moving a needle towards the girl’s arm. Quickly Scarlet’s yo-yo knocked the needle away. “Lila may be a terrible person, but maybe that’s a little much Marinette.”

    “It’s Needle Point, and she’s just getting what she deserves. But I can stop if you give me your miraculous.”

    “None of the villains Hawkmoth has created has ever beaten Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

    “But you’re not even Ladybug. Which means there’s more of a chance you’ll lose.”

    Scarlet gritted her teeth. Needle Point was right. She was new to being… well her. However, Needle didn’t know that she had experience with Miraculouses before. She didn’t even see to know Scarlet was really Chloé and that she herself was usually Ladybug.

    Scarlet at first wasn’t sure what more she could do, but then, looking at Lila, and idea struck her. “So, you hate Lila, but want to be on the same side as her?”

    Needle Point seemed to be taken aback at that. “Of course not! I would never want to work with her!”

    “So the fact that you’re working with Hawkmoth and she obviously works with him too doesn’t matter to you? I mean, she willingly went after the akuma that is now powering you up.”

    Needle Point was stunned. Really? Her working with Lila? That couldn’t be true. “No! I would never work with him!” Came Lila’s voice, making the villain stare at her. Lila was a liar. That meant she really was working with him, right? That meant…

    “NO! I refuse to work with her!” Needle Point shouted before throwing Lila across the room. The girl was caught by Chat accidently as he came into the room and happened to be standing in the area where Lila was thrown too.

    “Huh, never thought I would end up cat-ching you.”

    Lila scoffed and shoved away from Chat. Needle Point was upset at Chat for helping Lila, which didn’t help matters with him. Scarlet used the distraction to finally summon her Lucky Charm. A spotted purse that looked like Marinette’s standard purse minus the ladybug pattern. “Great… what do I do with this? Ladybug always knows so…” She looked around, nothing really standing out to her other than the purse itself. Scarlet noticed the clasp on the purse and opened it. Inside was a small sketchbook, a few pencils, a bracelet and a small doll of Tikki. She looked between the various items, a little overwhelmed with how many pieces there were. “The bracelet? The sketchbook? Which thing do I use?”

    “Do you know what to do Scarlet?” Chat called as he dealt with Neele Point.

    “I’m trying here!” Scared let yelled back, then she thought of something. “Hey Needle! Look at this.”

    The villain looked over at Scarlet angrily then in horror as the hero started to tear the sketchbook up. “No! How dare you!” Needle Point started to move towards Scarlet but the hero wagged her finger. “Come closer and I break it faster.”

    Needle Point didn’t seem to care and pounced at Scarlet, who jumped out of the way and finished tearing the sketchbook up. She quickly pulled out the pencils, snapping them in half. That caused Needle Point to become even angrier, but she froze as Scarlet pulled out the doll version of Tikki and tore the head off of the body. The villain kept staring, frozen in place, even as Chat Noir called for his cataclysm and destroyed the purse.

    The purple and black energy from the akumatization dissipated from Needle Point as she changed back to Marinette. Quickly, Scarlet caught the butterfly and purified it. She then stuffed the broken items into the purse and was about to use it to activate the miraculous ladybugs, but she hadn’t used the bracelet. She stared at it for a moment before realizing Adrien had one like this as well. It was a sign of their friendship, though they didn’t really have it any more. But maybe it could be a different sign.

    Scarlet went over and knelt on the ground next to Marinette. “Here. I believe I’ve seen you with one of these before.”

    Marinette stared at the bracelet. “Yeah, but I don’t really want it. It isn’t important.” Scarlet could hear the unsaid ‘anymore’

    “Well it can again. You need new friends. Take this to mean that I can be there for you.”

    Marinette stared at Scarlet then took the bracelet. Scarlet then stood up and threw the rest of the lucky charm into the air, fixing all the damage, and unfortunately making Marinette’s piece of the lucky charm disappear. Next to Scarlet, Chat held his fist up, which Scarlet mirrored.

    “Pound it. Nah doesn’t feel the same with you.” Chat commented. “Wait, you said you would be there for Marinette, but even though you didn’t say who you were she seemed to know. How does she-” He didn’t get a chance to continue as Scarlet’s earing beeped, going down to one spot. “You better go hide to change back.”

    Scarlet nodded and rushed back to the closet, getting in there and closing the door just as she changed back. “That… was close.” Chloé panted.

    “You did really well Chloé!” Tikki praised the blonde.

    “Thanks.” she replied reaching for the earrings, but stopping just before taking one off.

    “Chloé, we need to get the miraculous back to Marinette.” Tikki pleaded.

    “No, not yet.” the blonde shook her head. “The one time Marinette is akumatized is the same time someone else is Ladybug? That’s just asking for Hawkmoth to figure out who she is. I need to be Scarlet Lady at least once more so he thinks there’s something else up.”

    Tikki didn’t look fully convinced, but she reluctantly nodded. “I guess you’re right. One person knowing her secret is enough. And if Hawkmoth could figure it out, other people could as well.”

    “Then let’s go find Marinette and tell her the news.”

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The Akumanette

[donnerpartyofone]

while i’m apparently still in confession mode for some dark reason: 

after i told that awful story yesterday about the degrading one night stand that an older male friend spent a year bullying me into, i started thinking about all the cliches that are sold to us about the sexuality of precocious young women: what it means for us to navigate the devious emotional traps set out by the jealous and covetous world around us. what i mean is, there’s this whole gothic narrative that never stops circulating, involving beautiful, talented, intelligent, sensitive young women who are advanced enough to start exploring their own desires independently, but not experienced enough to identify the (typically) older male predators who hunt them. these men take advantage of their uninformed curiosity, leveraging their prey’s desire to grow up faster in order to control, possess, and abuse them. while this narrative is inherently criminal, society never seems willing to fully denounce it, preferring to preserve its erotic potency for a wide and slavering audience. the iconography of this narrative is mostly derived from Lolita–

[which btw our cultural failure to see that book as anything other than a “love story” is really disturbing and speaks volumes about our willingness to project our grossest ideas wherever we want, even when other interpretations (like “black comedy”) are abundantly available]

–a mature but fragile adolescent with that /special something/ innocently hypnotizes a genteel older man whose sophistication belies his uncontrollable animal desire for her, which is less His Problem than it is a natural response to her beauty and charm; a  forbidden love affair ensues. when i was young, i swallowed this concept hook line and sinker, hoping it would happen to me some day! i hated dumb little boys my own age, and i felt that if some Humbert Humbert type were to flatter me with his highly curated attention, then i would know that i had truly arrived.

“sadly”, i made it through high school and college without ever knowing that validating thrill. i wasted the latter half of my 20s on an abusive relationship with a guy two years younger than me, who often argued that he should be allowed to wreck my life however he wanted because he was “less mature” than i was and deserved more leeway. as i turned 30, i met the extraordinary person i would marry. i felt a profound sense of relief, entering my 30s; i had finished with so many of my old delusions, and the pulverizing pressure to have The Time of Your Life throughout one’s 20s had finally lifted. i looked back on my youth, thinking of it as a period of dreary, pointless misery in which “nothing really happened”, good or bad. but recently, when i started to think about it with greater focus, i realized that some shit really DID happened to me. i had just completely ignored it, because i thought of it as the fruits of my own bad taste. 

throughout junior high, i had a bizarre rapport with a guy in his early 20s–”nothing happened”, as they say, but this guy was sort of a freak and a loner, and i’m probably lucky that there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for something TO happen. then my supposed best friend, jealous of even this non-event in my sad little existence, forced a relationship with a 30 year old man out of nowhere, and competitively abused my ears with a lot of gnarly details about their horrible sex life. then in high school, my first two boyfriends were both pretentious manipulative dickheads in their 20s who really had no business bothering someone who wasn’t old enough to vote. some of my friends suffered from the same problem, though we all just felt like we were becoming independent young women or something. then there’s some other stuff with an older classmate who was abundantly aware of how emotionally unstable i was, and took appalling advantage of that for a long time, and i probably won’t ever be brave enough to talk about it. then in college i briefly “dated” a guy around 50 with whom luckily nothing bad happened before i got rid of him, but like, it really wasn’t cool, looking back–he made me feel incredibly obligated, and as he only informed me mid-stream, he was married with children. then i spent the rest of college getting dragged through the mud by a guy in his 30s who used his professional clout and well-honed manipulative abilities to “take my virginity” (a phrase and concept i hate, but which applies here), which he was very excited about; it would have been best if he had just abandoned me after that, as so many assholes do, because he then cultivated a long tawdry and extremely damaging soap opera between us, the only point of which was to make trouble for his actual girlfriend, who was ALSO much younger than him. and the end of college and slightly after, i developed another intense connection with a man a few decades older, who would never quite initiate a relationship, but who was insidiously manipulative and made me feel terrible when i eventually got a real (age-appropriate) boyfriend, as if i owed him something; i later found out he did the same thing to another girl that i know, who is substantially younger. the terrible one night stand, previously discussed, was just a gross little footnote to this disgusting history…

…but the thing is, i never, at any time, felt like i had taken part in the overheated archetypal drama that society has built up around may-december romances. i didn’t even see myself as a victim of the bad behavior of adults, of people who should and did know better; i just felt separate from the whole thing, even though i had fantasized about it so much as a kid. the thing is, at the same time that the Lolita narrative is inappropriately romanticized, it does provide an opportunity to see the girl as a potential victim, a Little Red Riding Hood who enters a perilous erotic negotiation with a Big Bad Wolf. because i didn’t see myself as the heroine of my own iteration of this overly familiar story, i didn’t recognize the degree to which i’d been exploited by people who knew to use my youth and inexperience against me. i just blamed myself. and the reason for all this is really sad: i simply didn’t feel attractive. in my mind, the vulnerable nymphet was always delicate, doe-like, elegant; clothes hung on her alluring frame in a way that created a dizzying paradox between her youth and her emerging maturity; she could dance, play music, or write touching poetry; she was preternaturally irresistible even to “good men”. she had to be liv tyler in STEALING BEAUTY (*barf*) or some shit; only somebody that compelling could star as the doomed princess in society’s well-loved fairy tale about statutory rape. personally, i perceived myself as ugly, awkward, socially burdensome, and most importantly, the kind of girl who should count herself extremely lucky to be the center of anybody’s attention, even temporarily. because i didn’t see myself as a damsel in distress who deserved protection and sympathy, i failed to spot my own victimization. i thought of my history of increasingly negative and abusive encounters with older men as a matter of bad luck, bad judgment on my own part, and ultimately, “the best i could do” if i wanted any kind of affection. so i guess the irony is that if i had identified myself as a desirable dolores hayes type, then yes, i would have been in serious danger of fetishizing my own mistreatment–but on the other hand, i would have had a more realistic framework for understanding the sinister thing that was happening to me. unfortunately, the other side of the misogyny coin–not the side that turns you into a sex object, but the side that excludes you from feeling sexually worthy at all–prevented me from noticing that that awful Little Red Riding Hood cliche had already happened to me several times over.

tl;dr - when misogyny convinces you that you have nothing to steal, then it’s hard to tell when misogynists are trying to rob you.

it’s funny to start recognizing this only now that i’m approaching 40. i see a lot of young women on tumblr heroically fighting to strike a balance between enjoying their kinks and avoiding the corrupt elements in their communities–all the while trying to stay aware of how their personal history and mental health plays into this drama. some of them are way farther along in that philosophical journey than i was at their age, and i really admire the work they’re doing. i’m writing this more for the ones who don’t even know that they’re already a part of this struggle, because they haven’t learned to see themselves as desirable enough to be included in it. that is to say, i wrote this for myself; but i have a sneaking suspicion that someone else out there needs to hear it, too.

This post brought to you in part by the very beginning of CABIN IN THE WOODS, which, while not a deep film in any way, features a salient moment in which College Girl #1 tries to tell College Girl #2 that the professor who took advantage of her is a scumbag, and College Girl #2 defends him, humbly and maturely replying: “I knew what I was getting into.” The blood freezes in my veins when I think of how many times I said something like this about someone who did not deserve my defense. If you got dicked over, literally and/or figuratively, by someone older, sober-er, and/or more experienced than you, then this is your gentle reminder that you really cannot be accused of knowing what you’re getting into.

[khayelihlem]

If you are looking for the truth you won't find it in my smile- Khayelihle M

“Remember that girl who was so much fun that other night? She was the life of the party said her motto is yolo so she lives for the moment, everyone went on about how funny she is and a joy to be around because she makes everyone laugh and she is always happy. I heard she overdoses anything strong to cope and is always drunk because she is trying to escape from her reality.”

“Did you see that lady she is so admirable always neatly dressed, smells good and has the most beautiful hair. She is the kindest person I have ever met a true angel in human form, sadly she suffers from depression she cries herself to sleep and once attempted suicide.”

“Come see her, isn’t she perfect 1000+ likes I envy her life her posts tell you that she is living a dream, but she is drowning in debt and failing to make ends meet.”

******************************************************************************************************

“If you are looking for the truth,

You won’t find it in my smile” –Khayelihle Mahlobo

#SmilesLie

Truth be told! in one way or the other life has taken each of us for a ride and not everyone who looks happy is happy in most cases it’s always the one with the biggest smile who has the saddest reality. I always say this as a joke “we should have been born with a life study guide or memo” but honestly, think about it, it would have made life so much easier having that ‘how to’ page for each stage in our life. Unfortunately we have all kinds of challenges thrown at us and we have to find our way out, “pick yourself up, heal and move on, now!” life screams back at us because time is not waiting around for anyone to pull themselves together so it’s either you sink or swim and to be honest sinking looks better than swimming only to drown again and again and again. In the midst of it all the confusion, failures, heartbreaks and breakups, losing our loved ones and the abuse we have got to be super human to face the day, most of us probably heard stories about the characters I’ve stated above and sadly if help is not received on time it didn’t end well for them, maybe it was a relative, a close friend, friend of a friend or even a foe and high chances one of them could be you or me, hence if you are looking for anybody’s truth don’t be satisfied by just seeing their smile and assume all is well when it could be the complete opposite.

“I haven’t wrapped my finger around the reason for most life events that I have experienced but I took each one as a chance to learn, one thing I have noticed is how we lose a portion of ourselves whenever we enter life’s battlefield and after facing so many battles, how much of yourself are you left with? Can you still recognise the person you see in the mirror or are you just trying to figure life out at the same time learning about who you have become? After talking to a few people and also observing the people closest to me I learnt that though physical wounds seem to be painful to deal with because they are visible to the naked eye, get attended to quicker and healing is provided for while emotional wounds are the hardest to heal from, if you took a closer look at those closest to you, you will be surprised at the number of masks you will discover people have been dead for years but we still share lunch and dinners with them, classmates, colleagues, lovers and family members just that we have mastered keeping a convincing poker face and also with makeup and fashion sense its really easy to play a real life character. Emotional wounds might take forever to heal because nobody sees us crying ourselves to sleep and not everyone has someone who calls to ask “are you sure you are okay” the pain from feeling alone, having to lick our own wounds and I guess there’s no come back from such devastation” –Khayelihle Mahlobo, identity

According to the WHO (world health organisation), SA has the 6th highest rate of suicide in Africa and most of suicide and suicidal attempts take place among people who suffer from undiagnosed and untreated depression, the world health organisation estimates that more than 300 million people are affected by depression worldwide. CIPLA’s association director, Wouter Lombard, explained that depression is a medical condition that can be diagnosed and treated. All we need to do is to take action, stand up and seek help for the people you love when start seeing signs and symptoms of depression, stand up for yourself and receive the help you need on time. With this I hope to help those in need of saving, may there be no life cut short where you and I could have been the helping hand.

We all come from different backgrounds and challenges are different to each individual and to be honest people’s realities are scary and someone once said that your worst case scenario is probably someone’s reality and imagine if we all offered a helping hand, a shoulder to cry on or just simply a listening ear before judging we could make better friends, family members and partners. The truth is not always in the smile the bubbly, funny and charismatic personality most people are wearing masks, be the help in need or be the help you need – Khayelihle M

https://www.cipla.co.za/mental-health/understanding-depression-and-related-symptoms-key-to-suicide-prevention-in-sa/

[horseyfuture]

Lockdown Horrorscopes

Welcome, horrendous mortal, to your mind-rending Lockdown Horrorscopes. It has been some time since you last graced my tent with your questioning buttocks. No, do not cross my palm with silver, we use contactless now. Just press it on that bit of the window there. Excellent. Your payment has been accepted. Let us discover what the universe needs you to hear...

---

Aries: After many weeks of lockdown, you are beginning to have conversations with inanimate objects around the house. In the middle of a one-sided argument with the toaster, a small, flint-hard piece of green-tinged pitta bread joins the debate, taking the toaster’s side and calling you a “scruffy tossbag”. You may be hallucinating, though also, that pitta bread has been there QUITE A WHILE. The pitta is chewy, but stops talking after a while. A little time later the room becomes a little sloshy, like gravy in a bowl. The fruit bowl pipes up as you walk past. It calls you a wanker.

Taurus: To fend off the tedium, you decide to play a joyful round of “how many chairs can you put on a chair”, to which the answer turns out to be “six, before getting a face full of chair”. While bleeding gently onto a chair, you consider that future sources of entertainment might be more wisely centred around (say) pillows, or kittens, or candyfloss. You do not own any of these things, sadly, as you sold what you did have to get more chairs, very much failing to anticipate the sorts of items commonly found to be of use in a lockdown. Oh well. You sigh resignedly and begin to put a chair precariously on top of some other chairs.

Gemini: Having had more Skype calls with family than anybody can healthily defend, you decide to take a long, relaxing bath. Unfortunately, you are running low on soap. Also, you forgot to stock up on bubblebath last time you went to the shop. And water. Additionally, you do not own any towels. Or a bath. Or the room for a bath. A bathroom, if you will. Still, not to be held back by trifling inconveniences, you diligently strip off and scrub yourself vigorously all over, while sat naked on the kitchen floor. Eventually, the people who own the house return and a Series of Exciting Conversations follow.

Cancer: Because you are so wildly creative and unique, you decide that among your already proven range of wondrous skills, such as writing crap poetry, making crap fan art for mawkish period dramas and attaching small pieces of technical lego to a crap hat, you will blow the minds of your friends by becoming... a baker! Yes. This will mark you out as a trend setter. You carefully go to the shop, observing social distancing except when you aren’t which is always and buy ALLLLL the ingredients for bread making. Literally all of them. So nobody else can make bread. Returning home, you valiantly point your wild intellect at the problem and, with a little help from a BBC recipe guide: YOU MAKE BREAD. It is crap.

Leo: You receive an unexpected parcel. The parcel contains mostly lizards. As well as the lizards, there is a bright red jewel which sparkles enticingly. You discover that the jewel allows you to control the lizards. And also, to see through their eyes. You, furthermore, hear their lizardy thoughts, although to be fair, their minds are fairly quiet and their thoughts are mostly “Woohaar! I’m a lizard!” With your newfound powers, you decide you will finally be freed from your virus-laden lockdown. No longer will you be caged by a mere four walls. You send your lizard army forth to bring you new sights, sounds and experiences. Unfortunately, almost everything is shut and the outside world is pretty dull. After a bit, one of the lizards politely asks if they might have their minds back, to which you accede. They agree to pop round on Thursdays. They’re good lizards.

Virgo: The Gods smile upon you today. The Gods wink at you, also. The Gods send you a direct message asking you how you’re doing today and mention that you’re looking great in that recent profile photo. The Gods say they’re doing alright, you know, but feeling kinda lonely since Karen left, so hey, did you ever get back together with Steve? No? That’s a real shame, you were a sweet couple. The Gods ask if that means you’re still single, then? You are? Oh, baby, there ain’t no justice. What you need’s a real man. You sure do. You deserve one. Or maybe even better. The Gods wonder if you’ve ever made it with a deity. The Gods wonder how come you went so quiet. The Gods say aw, come on, don’t be like that. The Gods themselves go quiet for a while. The Gods send you unsolicited photographs of their genitalia. You block the Gods.

Libra: As you open your kitchen cupboard, a wizard appears before you and tells you that of the two remaining cans of soup, one of them contains not just soup but truly endless riches: the meaning of the universe and an infinite lifespan granted to the opener, with which to explore and enjoy the myriad beauties to be found in a boundless cosmos. In the other can: SUFFERING. Problematically, though, one of the cans is tomato soup from a fairly reputable brand and the other is leek and celeriac, which your weird aunt sent you about four years ago and seems to have been manufactured by ancient Welsh hippies. You go to open the tomato and the wizard winces and whistles through his teeth. You reach toward the leek and celeriac. The wizard smiles and waggles his eyebrows. Bugger this, you open the tomato, the wizard disappears and your arse immediately falls off. You have no regrets and the soup’s pretty good.

Scorpio: You are the twat that took all the toilet roll. Helpful. Aren’t you a good little pandemic pixie? Getting up at shithead o’clock in the morning and nicking all the stuff that your neighbours might have wanted. They suspect you. They saw you carrying your many, many bags past their windows and into your flat. But what they don’t know is that you’re not using it the way they imagine. You haven’t done a poo in over five weeks now. Not since you superglued your bum together. They’d think you were crazy, but you had to. To save the toilet roll for Greater Things. The pains come again, as your tummy heaves and you try to poop through a blocked up bum, but you breathe deeply and in time this passes. Now you are free to return to your great work. Your 20ft high pornographic sculpture of the Queen, made entirely from papier mache. Your Majesty looks down on you in erotic approval.

Sagittarius: Carnival tiiiiime! It’s carnival time! CARNIVAL TIME! Oh boy, oh boy, you can’t wait! You LOVE carnival time! You’ve been waiting so long, and they said you weren’t going to have carnival time because of the virus, but you weren’t gonna miss out! CARNIVAL TIIIME! There’s a strange knocking sound. That’s not usually part of carnival time. You follow the sound to the door, which you open gingerly. Who? Ah. OK. Right you are. I see. Yup. Yup. I will. No, you’re right. I’ll do that. I will. I’ll put it back. I thought you wouldn’t mind. It’s not a real one, it’s just a, no, OK, I’ll get rid of it. And the fish. I got it online. I’ll look after. OK, no, I understand. I know. I will. I’ll wipe it off. Yep. I will. Right away. Sorry. OK. Bye mom. So. Uhhh. Yep. Yeeeep yep. It is definitely not carnival time.

Capricorn: You begin to suspect that there is something going on with your neighbours next door. There are animal sounds late at night and you’re certain they have no pets. Sometimes you hear a tapping, it seems rhythmical. Almost like Morse code. How you wish you’d remembered the symbols they taught you for that when you were at school. One morning, you wake up and sit bolt upright as the sounds of a plaintive, strangled scream are quickly drowned out by a guttural groan of ecstasy, as if something huge and ancient had been satisfied in a way that only demons would commend. Sullen red illumination fades from the windows and all becomes silent once more. You resolve to ask the vicar if he’d consider wearing headphones on his Zoom calls in future.

Aquarius: You decide that you will spend the week not wearing a bra. Why not? Why shouldn’t you at least enjoy some of the more free and easy aspects of long term self-isolation. After the week, though, you sort of miss the bra, so you start wearing it again for a few days. Yeah, actually, this is kind of better. And if this is better, how good would two bras be? You try it out. Feels amazing. Why didn’t you try this before? How could you not have realised that the problem wasn’t tight bras or ill-fitting bras, or always having to wear a bra, the problem was: Not ENOUGH bras. You immediately add a third bra. Holy crap, this is the life. Five or six bras in, you’re starting to slow down a bit, not least because of the underwiring, but you feel incredible, and the SUPPORT is off the chart! The door bell rings. You clatter to answer it, now a somewhat difficult proposition given all the bras. Delivery guy leaves a large parcel on the floor to maintain social distancing, which makes picking it up a little tricky. Again. All the bras. You hobble inside and manage to pop open the parcel. Ah yes. More bras. Perfect.

Pisces: Day 37. You miss your partner. It’s been weeks now and while the occasional saucy video call has kept some semblance of intimacy together, you have needs and an itch you cannot truly scratch. Your hamster runs noisily in its catch, the wheel squeaking. The hamster gets more exercise than you these days. If only you hadn’t sold that treadmill. You feel a kinship to the hamster, tinged with guilt. Now you yourself are confined in your house, you feel bad for locking up little Hammy. In fact, you decide to let Hammy out. You share a strange kinship with Hammy now, fellow prisoners in life’s lonely cage. So lonely. Just you and Hammy. All alone. Nobody else around. Poor little Hammy. All alone, just like you. Day 38. You look at Hammy. Hammy looks at you. Tired, but loving, Hammy’s eyes seem to say a lot of things to you and you feel a different kind of guilt now, looking into them, albeit mixed with gratitude. You put an extra helping of food in the cage, fill up the water bottle and think about where you find yourself in these strange times. You glance back up at the cage and think. “They’re going to make me marry that hamster”.

---

YES! The vision is complete. The skies briefly whirl, the oceans dance then subside and the stars cease their jagged oscillations abruptly and settle down with some snacks to watch Netflix. You have heard the universe’s dark narrative and your brain structures are indelibly marked with what must come. Now go. And tell nobody you visited me today. The police regretfully do not consider this to be classed as an essential journey.

[randomk-imagines]

Forbidden pt.1

words: 4.8k

genre: fluff, angst at the very end, old era fic

summary: You’re the only princess of Silla and are to be married off to the Prince of Baekje. The only problem is you’re in love with someone else. Someone who’s not royalty.

warnings: character death, blood

a/n: I don’t know much about old era Korea sorry. I tried my best. I hope you enjoy (: i also wrote and looked over this at 3am so if there are any mistakes then sorry i might look over it later lol

Most people think it’d be nice to be a princess. Living the lavish life with gold, silver, and jewels surrounding you while your servants awaited your every move.

Well, it wasn’t like that. In fact, you didn’t know where people got that idea from.

You parents were strict and ruthless, well actually just your father. When the kingdom was suffering, he didn’t care. When some merchants tried to offer your father some of their services or food in exchange for some money to help their suffering family, your father cruelly and coldly shunned them away. 

He was also strict with you, his only child. The only crowned princess of Silla. The mysterious princess that stays out of sight from the villagers. You’ve heard rumours that your parents kept you out of sight because you were ugly and they were ashamed to call you their daughter. Contrary to that, you’ve also heard you were stunningly beautiful. The most beautiful princess that’s graced your land in centuries.

You’re not sure where either of those rumours had started, but you ignored them. They were both baseless rumours.

It’s not a surprise that your father suddenly announced that you’re going to be married off to a prince to merge Silla and Baekje in hopes that the threat of attack from Goguryeo would subside. 

You had no say in this marriage, as usual, but you still weren’t happy about it.

“I don’t know what to do, Jungwoo,” you sigh as you lay, sprawled across your bed.

Jungwoo, your personal servant. The beautiful boy that has been with you since you were a child. His father was wrongly convicted of treason against the Kingdom and was thus ruthlessly killed off by your grandpa who was king at the time. Jungwoo’s mother was forced to give up her child to the king for servitude and then was exiled.

You and Jungwoo were both so young at the time, neither of you had memories from the event, but your father doesn’t hesitate to bring it up every time Jungwoo is ever slightly late or messes up one tiny detail.

When your father assigned Jungwoo to be your servant at the ripe age of 8 years old, it surprised you. You had just turned 8 that day and your father gifted you a personal servant.

The tiny boy widened his eyes at you when your father shoved him towards you. You had no idea what was happening at the time, only seeing the small boy once in a while cleaning the floors or bringing something to your father. When your father explained that you now had a personal servant, you just stared at the boy next to you.

Your father shooed the two of you out of his room and you both walked in silence back to your own room.

At first, he was afraid of you, thinking you were just like your father and cringed away one time when you lifted up your hand, thinking you were going to slap him. You were only reaching for a book that laid on your desk and it surprised you when Jungwoo dropped to his knees and apologized for messing up.

“What are you talking about? What did you do?” you asked him.

“I didn’t give you your book. I’m so sorry,” the boy whimpered.

“Please get up. I won’t hit you,” you said and offered your hand out to the boy. He was hesitant to reach out for it, remembering the one time he accidentally brushed up against your father and was slapped repeatedly for it. However, you looked at him so sincerely and warm-heartedly, he took his chance.

You smiled at him when he set his hand in yours.

Ever since then, he’s been glued to your side. 

“Run away,” Jungwoo offered, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You glared up at the boy who was sitting on the edge of your bed. “You’re so helpful,” you say sarcastically. 

He gives you an apologetic look.

You told him your father’s plans of joining the two kingdoms and when he said he thought it was a great idea, you told him that it meant you were going to get married. You swore you saw Jungwoo’s smile faltered, but he still told you congratulations.

It hurt, more or less.

Jungwoo had been by your side for years. He’s become your best friend and the only person you could open up to when you were stressed or angry. You hate to say it, but you’ve fallen in love with him. Sometimes you think he’s fallen in love with you too when it’s only the two of you in your room, late at night, talking in hushed voices. You always convinced him to lay down next to you after such a long day of him working and being on his feet as the two of you exchanged thoughts. You see him occasionally glance down at your mouth as you talk, but he quickly looks back up to your eyes.

You hate that you fell in love with your servant because your father would never approve of it. In fact, he’d probably exile Jungwoo and then lock you up in your room forever. It was forbidden for royalty to associate themselves with anyone lesser than them. You’re surprised your father even took Jungwoo in, but you guess it was a punishment for his parents.

“Run away with me,” you hear Jungwoo quietly say. The shock on your face must be evident because Jungwoo awkwardly laughs it off, trying to play it off as a joke.

“Even if I did, I can’t. Who would take the throne when my father and mother have passed? I have no siblings or cousins,” you say sadly.

It’s not like you haven’t thought about running away. The first time you thought about it was when you were five years old. You had just been slapped by your father for the first time before he sent you to your room. You only got into the courtyard before you realized you had left your favourite stuffed animal in your room and you needed to go back. Your father’s consultant had caught you sneaking back into the castle and quickly rushed you back into your room.

You always did like him better than your father.

“It was just wishful thinking,” Jungwoo sighs.

The annual Midsummer Festival was a day away and the palace was bustling with busy servants cleaning the corridors or the bakers flinging multitude of pastries and desserts out of the ovens. 

The festival was the only festival the King let the villagers attend to inside the palace ballroom. It’s massive and there’s always a plethora of people crowding the rooms or filling the gardens. 

This year, however, was going to be different. Your future husband was attending and you were forced to introduce yourself and dance with him. 

Your mother placed a red and white hanbok on your bed with golden stitches dancing along the skirt. You hated wearing the fancy clothing, solely due to the difficulty of getting into them, but once you were in, you always felt a little prettier.

You and Jungwoo were walking down the busy hallways, occasionally sidestepping when you heard some frantic servers speed through. Each time, they bowed respectfully to you and then scurried off to go attend to some minor thing your father probably forced them to do.

“What if he’s ugly?” you muse. You hear Jungwoo snicker from beside you.

“Maybe your father will call off the arrangement then. Can’t have the beautiful princess of Silla marry a ratty-looking prince,”

“If only it were so easy,” you sigh dramatically. You placed a hand to your chest and closed your eyes. Granted, it wasn’t a good idea with the frenzy of servants rushing past with objects in their hands, but you weren’t thinking.

A particular servant has three boxes in his hands, effectively blocking his view from the front. He was looking to the side, but the boxes had blocked his view of you and he crashed into you. You let out a yelp as you fell to the floor, the boxes and the servant following suit.

You’re thankful the boxes weren’t that heavy when they hit your back before falling off to the side.

“I’m so sorry, Princess! I wasn’t looking where I was going!” the servant frantically apologized. He was quick to gather up the fallen boxes before kneeling down in front of you in apology.

“You’re good. I’m not hurt, just a little surprised. Are you okay?” You ask. Jungwoo helps you up from the ground, sending you worried glances, but you wave him off. Truly, you were okay.

“This is unacceptable! I’m sorry Princess!”

“Please, get up. I’m okay. It was just an accident. Just be a little more careful, okay?” You send him a small smile. The servant glances up at you before quickly nodding and standing up and gathering his boxes back into his arms.

“Do you need any help with them?” Jungwoo offers. “We’re going the same way as you anyways.”

Before the servant has time to say anything, Jungwoo lifts the top two boxes off the servant's hands and starts walking to the ballroom.

You always loved how Jungwoo always helped other people. Whether it was because he was trained to or not, you could tell Jungwoo genuinely liked helping others. Maybe that’s why he never complained about your father’s constant demands at doing this or that. Jungwoo always did as he was told and even had a smile as he carried out the tasks.

You used to hate it. How could he just let your father talk down to him constantly and have the audacity to politely smile and nod his head? Yeah, your father was the King, but you never once heard Jungwoo complain about his ruthless personality.

Now, you admire it. The way he’s always helping others even when he has his own duties to attend to. When he’s not at your side, he’s helping the other servants or helping in the kitchen. The servants and chefs have grown to love your personal servant and you’re not surprised. You were on their side as well, unfortunately.

When a tall man with a few people following behind him step up to you and your parents at the festival, you know right away it’s your future husband.

He’s dressed in a royal blue hanbok with similarly looking gold stitching through his attire. It has a snow-white trim surrounding the cloth that has white stitching throughout its fabric. It’s invisible from far away, but the Prince is only a few feet away from you so you see it clearly. It’s a subtle detail, but it screams royalty and luxury.

“We’re glad you could make it to our festival, Prince Jaehyun,” your father bows to the prince.

“It’s my pleasure,” he insists and bows deeply. When he stands up straight, his eyes flicker towards you. He gives you a small smile before his eyes go back to your parents as they continue to talk.

You scowl, however. You still don’t like the fact that you’re being forced to marry someone who you don’t love while the person you love is right next to you.

The wedding isn’t for a while, thankfully, but it looms over your head like a storm.

“Would you like to dance?” Jaehyun bows to you while offering out his hand. You look over to your parents. Your father is giving you a stern look, silently telling you that you must dance with him unless you want to be punished for disobeying his previous orders.

You look to your left to where you know Jungwoo is standing further away. He’s not looking at you. In fact, he’s looking at the ground. You swear you can see a slight frown adorning his face, but it’s hard to tell.

You look back to the bowing prince and place your hand in his own. The prince looks back up at you and smiles before gently guiding you towards the centre of the room, leaving only his few servants and his parents with your own to talk.

“Silla is a beautiful kingdom,” Jaehyun says. The two of you are currently dancing along to the music along with the many bodies of villagers and merchants.

One of his hands is placed on your waist while his other is still holding your hand. You have your one hand placed on his shoulder.

It’s a little awkward since he’s taller than you by a good couple inches. He has dark chocolate coloured hair that’s untraditionally not being hidden under his headpiece. He said he had forgone his royal headpiece to respectfully let your parents be the higher appointed royals at the festival.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve only been outside of the palace twice and that’s when I was a child,” you say flatly. You can tell the prince is feeling a little awkward at your cold demeanour and answers, but you can’t find yourself to care. You’re not happy with this entire situation and you want to make that clear to the man in front of you.

Jaehyun clears his throat. He wracks his brain to think of something to say. Honestly, he wasn’t expecting this. A cold Princess? A Princess who makes it very clear she’s not interested in anything he does? He can’t help but feel a little awkward.

Honestly, when his mother had told him he was to marry the Princess of Silla, he was a little off-put. He didn’t have anyone special in mind, but marrying someone he didn’t even know wasn’t something he was enthusiastic about. He’s glad the marriage isn’t set until next year so that way he is able to get to know the Princess and hopefully become friends, maybe even more. Whether or not he befriends you doesn’t matter, but it’d be nice to be on good terms with the woman you’re going to marry.

However, the moment he saw you, he was taken aback at how beautiful you were. You weren’t doing anything special. Just standing next to your parents, yet he couldn’t help but admire how strikingly gorgeous you were. The red and gold dress you were wearing complimented your skin tone beautifully. He was glad that you had forgone the traditional headdress because he’s able to see your long, almost pitch black hair rest against your shoulders. You had the same soft-looking features as you mother, but look you had on your face resembled your father.

“You can let go of me now,” you said, breaking the Prince out of his thoughts. The song had ended and you were glad, but the Prince hadn’t let go of you. In fact, it didn’t even look like he was paying attention to anything as the two of you kept dancing along to nothing.

He quickly dropped your hand and let go of your waist and you did the same to him.

“Sorry,” he dipped his head.

The two of you went back to your parents at the throne. They were all talking among each other and it looked like they were having a nice time, but you knew your father was only playing it up for them so that the wedding could be finalized.

“You two looked so good out there!” Jaehyun’s mother cooed. You smiled politely at her and thanked her.

“Y/n, why don’t you show Prince Jaehyun around the palace,” your mother suggested. “He’ll be spending the night here so it’d be nice if he got familiar with it.”

“Oh no. I can wander around by myself,” Jaehyun waved her off politely. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Nonsense! The two of you can get to know each other without such a crowd!”

You silently cursed at your mother as she pushed the two of you out of the ballroom.

You had shown him around the entire palace. The kitchen, the rooms, the library, everything. Now you’re tired and even more grouchy because the palace was so goddamn huge and you don’t know why your mother suggested this. The two of you barely even talked.

Your last stop was the garden in the back, far away from the loud festival that was happening inside the palace.

It was probably your favourite place in the palace and the moment you stepped outside, your tense shoulders relaxed. It was separated from the main house by a river and your great-great-grandparents had built a stone bridge so that they were able to go back further. The separated garden was huge. A huge area of just maintained grass and plants along with giant feathery looking bushes and beautifully coloured flowers. There was a small stone path that leads all along the garden, but you rarely stuck to it. It also had a small man-made pond against the back wall with a little waterfall coming from the stones. There weren’t many trees so it made it easy for you to see the stars and you often came here when you wanted to escape your overbearing father.

“It’s so pretty here,” Jaehyun commented. He was sitting beside you on a small stone bench that overlooked the pond. The two of you were far back in the garden that you could barely see the main house. It used to scare you as a kid. You heard stories of assassins being able to sneak in and hide in your garden just waiting to take out a royal and you never strayed further than the stone bridge. Your father’s consultant used to take you farther back so you were able to see how beautiful it was and since then you always went into the green maze.

“It’s my favourite area. Away from everything and quiet. The perfect place to relax,” you sigh in content. 

The two of you sat in silence for a while and you honestly forgot the Prince of Baekje was sitting next to you for a good portion of time.

“Hey, Princess,” you faintly hear Jaehyun whisper to you. You feel him shake your shoulder slightly and that’s when your eyes shoot open and you straighten up your back.

You don’t know when you fell asleep and it’s embarrassing that you probably fell asleep on the Prince’s shoulder.

“It’s getting a little cold out here. Do you want to go back inside before you catch a cold?” he asks.

“I’m not that fragile that I’ll catch a cold from just a small breeze,” you snap. You immediately stand up and walk away from the Prince, heading back into the house. Truthfully, you are that fragile and weak that you’ll probably end up getting a small cold tomorrow morning, but you don’t want to admit that to the Prince.

Jaehyun smiles to himself as he watches your fleeting figure.

You had fallen asleep on his shoulder and as much as he didn’t mind, he could feel you shivering every time the wind blew. Each time, you snuggled a little closer to him and he couldn’t help but smile at how cute your actions were.

You were in your pyjamas with your hair tied up and out of your face, cursing out the entire world for falling asleep on Jaehyun’s shoulder. You were sprawled out on your bed when you heard a faint knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call.

The door opens to reveal Jungwoo out of his hanbok and in his regular servant clothing.

“Hey. I haven’t seen you all night,” you say as you sit up. You’re glad he’s here. You’re mad you weren’t able to talk to him during the festival and just a tad bit sad you couldn’t dance with him either. You could’ve played it off that you were just dancing with everyone at the festival if your father brought it up, but you didn’t even get the chance.

“Is everything okay?” You ask after realizing Jungwoo hasn’t moved from your door. He’s looking everywhere except at you and it’s worrying you. He looks nervous and a little anxious and you can’t understand why. Did something happen at the festival? Did he get in trouble with your father? So many things are going through your head.

You hear Jungwoo mutter something under his breath before he looks directly at you and storms towards you. You’re about to ask if anything’s wrong again, but before you can even open your mouth, Jungwoo cups your cheeks with his hands and smashes his lips onto yours.

It takes you a few seconds to process what’s happening and then you realize Jungwoo, your best friend, your servant, the seemingly shy, timid boy you’ve loved since forever, is kissing you.

You bring your hands up to his shoulders and kiss him back.

You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing, but the two of you finally break apart.

“I’m sorry,” Jungwoo whispers. He leans back up and starts to walk away, but you catch his wrist, preventing him from going any further.

“I like you, Jungwoo. I know I shouldn’t, but I don’t care. I don’t care that you’re not royal and I don’t care that I’m being married off to someone else next year,” you said quickly.

You could visibly see Jungwoo’s shoulders relax as he let out a sigh of relief. You thought he was going to kiss you again when he leaned in, but he ended up pulling you into a tight hug. You weren’t mad at that and wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him as well.

The two of you snuck around the palace holding hands and giggling like five-year-olds for months. Sometimes you’d kiss in empty hallways and sometimes you’d kiss out in the garden away from everyone. He snuck you out of the palace once to go see the villagers celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival. It was the first time you had gone outside of the palace.

The villagers were so bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to your father’s cold and heartless ways. The fireworks they let off scared you a little since they were so close, but Jungwoo held you tightly to him when they first spooked you. It was comforting and warm and you grew to admire the beautiful colours each one emitted as it shot off into the air.

Jungwoo kissed you that night. Out in the open where everyone could see. You weren’t in your usual attire and the villagers didn’t even know what you looked like, so it didn’t matter. It made you anxious, but you quickly relaxed in Jungwoo’s embrace.

The two of you went back to the palace happy and content.

When the two of you were snuggled up under your blankets and your head was resting against his warm chest, you almost forgot you were to be married next summer.

You and Jungwoo were just talking in the hallways as the two of you were heading to breakfast when you saw two of the royal guards coming towards you and Jungwoo. You didn’t think much of it and kept chatting with him.

That was until the two guards roughly grabbed onto each of Jungwoo’s arms. It shocked the both of you and you felt your stomach sink and uneasiness swell in your throat.

Jungwoo struggled against the two guards, but he was no match for their strength.

“What is the meaning of this!?” you yell at them. “Let him go!”

“Sorry, Princess, but it’s the King’s orders to take this man to the throne room immediately,” one of them said. The two guards started pulling Jungwoo towards the throne room, only furthering the dread in your stomach.

Not many people were allowed in the throne room. Only those begging for assistants from your father, your father’s consultants, specific guards, and the royal family. The only other time you heard of non-royals in the throne room was when your father sentenced them to exile or death. You can’t imagine why Jungwoo is being sent there, but you hope the sinking feeling in your stomach is wrong.

They dumped Jungwoo on your father’s floor and you quickly went to his side to help him stand up. 

Your father was sitting on the throne, looking menacing as ever, and waved off the guards to stand next to the door.

“Why is he here, father?” You snap.

“I’m not surprised you’re here, y/n, but I’m glad you are,” he gives you a smile. It makes you sick. It’s a cold, sadistic smile. “I know of your relationship with this servant, y/n, and you can only imagine how upset I am,” he starts.

Your stomach drops.

How did your father find out? The two of you were so careful. You made sure no one was ever around when you so much as hugged or held hands. You made sure no one would come into your room when you and Jungwoo were there. You made sure of everything, so how could your father find out?

“I know you snuck out during the Mid-Autumn Festival. Maybe you should’ve been more careful of not being seen by the guards on the streets,” he says. 

You curse under your breath.

“I’m really disappointed in you, y/n. You know you’re to be married to Prince Jaehyun and you know this thing is only a servant,” he points to Jungwoo. “I knew my father should’ve killed him when he had the chance. He came from a family of traitors, it was only time that he followed in their footsteps.”

You glare up at your father and hold onto Jungwoo’s side. You can feel Jungwoo shaking and you can feel your heart rate pick up. Your father is so unpredictable and ruthless and it scares you that you never really knew him as your father.

He was always the King. Nothing else.

Your father stands up from his seat and walks down the steps towards the two of you. He waves over to the two guards and motions for them to come grab onto you at the same time your father unsheathes the sword he always has attached on his side.

They roughly yank you away from Jungwoo. You struggle against them, but they’re by far stronger than you could ever handle.

You feel the tears forming in your eyes as you know what’s about to happen. You scream at your father to stop, at Jungwoo to run, at the guards to let you go, but none of them listens to you.

Jungwoo looks over at you and gives you a small smile and mouths “I love you,”

“I’m glad you’re here, y/n. You should see this.” You father says to you. 

It all happens in a flash.

You see the glimmer of light bouncing off of your father’s sword and the flash of silver as your father mercilessly thrusts it into Jungwoo’s stomach.

You scream at your father, at Jungwoo, at the guards. You scream incoherently as tears pour from your eyes and you thrash in their hold.

You see Jungwoo’s clothes turn a bright red as blood pours out of the wound when your father retracts the sword from Jungwoo’s stomach. The once clean, silver sword, now a sickening bright red.

Jungwoo clutches his wound as he crumbles to the ground, coughing up even more blood.

Your father doesn’t even bat an eye as he cleans off the bloodied sword before waving to the guards to let you go.

The moment you feel them loosen their grip on you, you dash over to the bleeding boy and crouch down next to his side, tears blurring your vision.

You don’t even realize your father and the guards had left. The only thing on your mind is the boy right in front of you, bleeding out of his stomach because of you.

“Jungwoo,” you sob out. You place one of your hands to his abdomen, attempting to stop the blood from pouring out of the wound, but it doesn’t work. It only makes your hand bloody and the tears spill from your eyes faster. “I’m so sorry,” you cry.

“Don’t be,” Jungwoo coughs out. He weakly lifts one of his hands up to your face to wipe away the tears falling from your eyes, but it only serves to make them fall more. The feeling of his cold hand on your cheek a stark contrast to his normally warm skin.

“I’m so so sorry,” you choke out. “This is all my fault,”

Jungwoo coughs up more blood as his hand falls back down to the ground. His eyes are unfocused and his breathing barely coming out.

“I love you,” Jungwoo wheezes. His breath stops and the tension in his body releases.

Your world goes silent.

[justkeeptrekkin]

One sleep talking man and his patient boyfriend

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE LISTENER! @ill-go-with-that-then luv ya mate sorry it’s late

It’s two o’clock in the morning when Shouta awakens from a light sleep. Everything appears to be silent, save the gentle tick of Mic’s watch in his bedside drawer, and the cicadas singing to a dark-blue, summer night sky. Hizashi snores gently beside him. Shouta rolls onto his back and stares at the slowly turning ceiling fan, kicks off the covers from his side to cool himself down.

He lets out a drawn out sigh.

Insomnia is no stranger to him. He’s slept little at night his whole life, and overcompensated during the day for as long as he can remember. All of his school years had been spent dozing in class. He’d even fallen asleep during a test for job interview once, which hadn’t led to good consequences.

As an adult, he still spends most nights awake. And, since he and Hizashi started dating a few months ago, it’s not really improved.

In fact-

“Where is the POLAR BEAR?”

Hizashi violently turns over beside him, flopping onto his stomach and pressing his face into the pillow, cheek squished. There’s a deep frown on his face as he puzzles over where said polar bear has gone.

Shouta smiles to himself. So, that’s probably what woke him up, then.

Many a high school sleepover had been spent with Shouta reading comics in the dark of Hizashi’s room by torchlight, whilst his friend shouted about cartwheeling pineapples into the darkness. It seems that for Hizashi, too, there’s been little change in sleeping habits.

They’ve been flatmates for years now, and Shouta has even been woken up from his chattering through the wall in the past. And whilst Hizashi’s been made aware of the issue by various disgruntled partners- who Shouta has tried not to glare at in the mornings when he’s drinking his first cup of coffee before school- there’s very little that can be done.

And, truth be told, he’s not sure that he wants anything to be done. He likes being reminded that Hizashi is there. He likes that he’s noisy.

Shouta rolls over to face him, watches his boyfriend’s frown deepen further. Drooling a little on the pillow. It’s kind of endearing. Especially without his glasses; Hizashi somehow looks a lot younger without them. He grumbles in his sleep.

And then he opens his eyes.

He looks sternly at Shouta, brows furrowed seriously. And yet, despite the intensity of the stare, there’s a distant look in his eyes that tells Shouta that he isn’t awake.

“Where is it?” Hizashi demands.

Yep. Definitely asleep.

“It’s gone, now, Hizashi. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

There’s a pause, a beat where asleep-Hizashi seems to consider this. And then he harrumphs, clearly not satisfied with the answer. Sitting up in bed, Hizashi hazily scans the room, scratching the top of his messy blonde head.

“It’s somewhere. I think she’s got it.”

“You can look for it in the morning,” Shouta says logically, having no idea of course who ‘she’ might be referring to.

Unfortunately, unconscious Hizashi does not follow logic. He tuts at Shouta’s suggestion, shakes his head like this is the silliest thing he’s heard all night, swings his legs out of bed and stands there. Looking a little lost with the sleepy frown on his face, but nonetheless determined. Shouta merely watches with quiet amusement as Hizashi makes his way confidently to the chest of drawers, picking up various items and helpfully putting them in places that Shouta knows Hizashi will forget about in the morning. Hizashi continues to shake his head to himself and huff, like a put-upon housewife whose husband does none of the chores.

Shouta sits up in bed and rubs his face. Hizashi, meanwhile, assertively puts his hairbrush in the ensuite sink, before returning to rearrange the contents of the chest of drawers.

Sleep-cleaning is a recent development. This is possibly due to the fact that Hizashi’s sleep routine has, indeed, revelry changed- he shares a bed every night, now. Shouta finds the whole scenario wonderfully ridiculous, hilarious, and heart-warming, just as Hizashi is in all aspects of life.

With a sigh, he eventually gets out of bed and places a hand on Hizashi’s shoulder. He immediately stills; for a moment he wonders if he’s done the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to wake him up, just bring him back to bed. Hizashi stares off into the distance, swaying a little on the spot.

And then he says, in a heart-breakingly small voice, “Can we get ice-cream on the way home?”

Shouta pulls him gently back into bed. “Yes, I’ll buy you an ice-cream on the way home.”

Hizashi’s face crumples, a small pout on his lips. “You promise?”

“I promise.”

Hizashi nods sadly to himself, and clambers back into bed. Shouta lies beside him on his back, head turned to watch him as he collapses into the sheets.

Shouta closes his eyes and tries, a little optimistically, to sleep again. But then:

“I love you.”

Shouta opens his eyes. Hizashi says this as he buries his face into Shouta’s shoulder. He lays a soft kiss on the top of his head, breathes and takes in the moment. “I love you, too. Now go to sleep.”

No sooner than the moment he finishes his sentence, Hizashi is snoring again.

000

Shouta has to admit that the reason he can do so much more work than anyone else is distinctly because of his insomnia. It’s helpful. But then, marking Kaminari’s essay at four in the morning isn’t really the ideal way to be spending his time.

It’s both a blessing and a curse.

After Hizashi’s sleep-cleaning episode, Shouta, predictably, couldn’t get back to sleep. And so he quietly transferred himself to the kitchen table, where he now marks 1A’s most recent essays. He’s beginning to lose the will to live with Kaminari’s, considering stopping halfway through and just writing please stop in red ink at the end of the paper. Maybe he can read Yaoyorozu’s to make himself feel a tiny bit less of a shit teacher. He takes a sip from the juice packet he’s got going, spills a bit on Kaminari’s paper.

Oops, he thinks, before considering that, actually, pouring juice all over the essay would probably improve it.

A quiet shuffling from the bedroom attracts his attention. Hizashi stands in the doorway, eyes half open. It’s a warm night, and at some point, he’s peeled off his bed shirt. A scar from his last fight stands out on his collarbone.

“Babe,” Hizashi whines.

“What is it, ‘Zashi.”

“Come back.”

Shouta sighs, drops his pen on the pile of papers. “I’m up. It’s fine. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

That sleepy face scrunches into something disgruntled. “Baby bear come back to bed. Please.”

Shouta sighs again, leans back in the wooden dining room chair.

“Did I wake you up?” Hizashi asks sheepishly, padding into the room. “Did I sleep talk?”

“No, I was awake anyway.”

Hizashi’s arms wrap themselves around Shouta’s neck from behind the chair, and he leans into them. “You can come work next to me. You won’t wake me up with the light on.” “‘Zashi, it’s fine, you know I’ve always worked during nights-”

“Not healthy,” he grumbles, face buried in Shouta’s hair.

“And working in bed is?”

Hizashi grumbles again. “Come back to bed. You don’t have to spend all your free time working.” “You have other things in mind? You know I won’t get back to sleep.” “You can cuddle me as I happily fall asleep in your arms.” “Right. And I’ll lie there awake with you giving me a dead arm?” He doesn’t actually have much of an issue with this plan, but the banter is worth it.

“Yes, and you’ll love it. Better than marking essays anyway, right?”

Shouta doesn’t respond.

“Right??” Hizashi shakes him by the shoulders.

He snorts. “Obviously. Fine. I’ll be in there in a sec.” “No, now.”

Shouta groans. “You’re so difficult when you’re half asleep.” Hizashi lazily pulls on Shouta’s arm. Leaning back, he hangs onto his hand as Shouta remains firmly planted in the chair for no reason other than it’s fun to tease Hizashi. But, after a second, when he notices his petulant, sad expression, Shouta gives in. He stands up and follows Hizashi to bed.

That’s the night he discovers that cuddling Hizashi has the remarkable effect of knocking him out entirely.

000

Shouta wakes up to Hizashi carefully peeling himself away from behind him, unwrapping his arms from around his waist. He lies there with his eyes closed, letting himself wake up slowly to the sound of Hizashi wandering about, getting ready. He always wakes up earlier than him to create the Present Mic look.

The ensuite door opens, and Shouta listens to Hizashi mutter about his comb being in the sink again as he gets dressed post-shower. There’s quiet humming as he gets ready. Shouta distantly listens, feeling like he might fall back asleep again.

“Shit. Where is it?”

Shouta takes a deep, slow breath. Buries his face into his pillow.

“Shit shit shit. I swear I bought some more yesterday.”

This happens almost every other morning.

Hizashi whines to himself as he goes through the regular crisis of- I’ve moved something in my sleep, I don’t know where it is, Shouta probably does, I don’t want to wake him up.

Shouta can’t be arsed to face the world yet, but he knows that in a minute-

“Babe…?”

Hizashi’s weight moves the bed as he sits down next to Shouta. He feels his hand stroking his hair.

“Hmmph.”

“Babe, you awake?” “Yes. What’ve you lost.” “Errrr. My hair gel.”

Shouta stretches, feet poking out the bottom of the bed. He rolls over and faces the other way. “Not telling you.” Hizashi splutters. Shouta smiles to himself. “Wh- that’s- wh- Shou! I’m gonna be so seriously late-”

“You’ll just have to suffer without it, then.”

There’s a distressed whining noise from the other side of the bed. Shouta groans and rolls onto his back, opens his eyes. Hizashi peers over at him with wide green eyes. Puppy eyes never work on him. Or so he likes to tell himself.

“Please. I miss my tall banana hair. And I can’t find my gel anywhere. Man, I couldn’t find, like, anything today, unconscious me was really going for it with the cleaning last night, huh?”

“Hmm,” Shouta replies. Then, “It’s underneath your shoe rack in the wardrobe.”

Hizashi grins, attacks him with a thousand kisses. Shouta bats him away, watches him search beneath the shoe rack and triumphantly hold up the gel. He moves into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“Damn. Why am I like this, man? There’s gotta be some fucked up psychological reason for this.”

Shouta sits up in bed, pulls the duvet up to his neck and draws his knees closer. “We already knew you were crazy.”

“Sure, but, like, still. Did I keep you awake much last night?” “No. Don’t worry about it.”

Hizashi is mid hair styling and he pauses- hands in the air and hair half gelled up. His reflection peers at Shouta over the rim of his prescription glasses, brows drawn together.

“I don’t believe you.”

Shouta shrugs. “OK.”

Hizashi’s face contorts into a guilty grimace. “I’m sorry.”

Shouta scratches his head sleepily. “It’s fine. I slept for ages after I did some marking, anyway.”

Hizashi smiles, seemingly a little proud of this fact, and continues to get ready for the day as Shouta watches.

000

Shouta is wrapped up in his sleeping bag on the staff room floor. He’s not really sleeping, but he’s not entirely awake either. The rest of his marking lies in his lap, and it’s falling off the closer he gets to drifting off.

“Eraser.” Shouta doesn’t respond to Nemuri. He doesn’t want to.

“He’s asleep,” Yagi says from the other side of the staff-room.

“No he’s not,” she says simply.

Shouta sighs. “I’m just resting my eyes.” He creaks one open, surveys Nemuri, who looms over him with her hands on her hips and a distinctly frustrated look in her eye.

“Can you tell me why your asshole boyfriend won’t talk to me today?”

Nemuri looks over to Hizashi’s desk, where the hero has resolutely turned his back to her and is humming to himself whilst working. She crosses her arms over her chest. Thirteen watches with a distanced interest, whilst Yagi shrinks behind his computer screen.

Unlike the cleaning, this isn’t a recent habit of Hizashi’s. Ever since high school, Hizashi has held a grudge like no one else that Shouta knows. Hizashi would go to any lengths to pointedly ignore the offending person until they apologised. The problem was, and still is- if that person doesn’t know what they’ve done wrong, they’ll get the cold shoulder for the rest of time. On occasions like these, Shouta has always been the go-to person to explain why Hizashi is glaring at them from the other side of the room. He’s the only person to have ever understood Hizashi well enough to interpret him.

This time, the answer to Nemuri’s question is clear.

“I dunno.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Well that’s a lie, you know everything that’s going on through his head.”

“Which probably means that whatever reason he’s pissed off at you for is because he dreamed it.”

That elicits a hurt scoff from across the room. Present Mic spins in his desk chair, shoots him a betrayed look through sunglasses. “Not true, dude!”

“I literally can’t think of anything I could have done,” Nemuri argues reasonably, arms still crossed. “And I like to think I’ve gotten a good idea of how not to piss you off after all this time.” Hizashi pushes up his sunglasses and spins away again. “If you don’t even know what you’ve done, then you don’t deserve my forgiveness.” Nemuri looks at Shouta for help. He shrugs. She scowls.

“Do you even know what I’ve done?” Nemuri demands.

Yagi has now joined Thirteen in watching this tennis match. He peers from around the edge of the computer. Meanwhile, Shouta invigilates the ongoing situation from the floor in his sleeping bag. Far more comfortable than his desk chair.

Hizashi measures this question, and seems to take pause.

“Yes,” he says eventually, a little too emphatically to be convincing.

“Right, so please enlighten me.”

Hizashi pauses again, and even with his back turned, Shouta can tell that he’s pouting defiantly into the distance as he tries desperately to remember why he’s upset.

“Does it involve a polar bear, by any chance,” Shouta offers.

There’s a long moment of silence. Then Nemuri gesticulates wildly, a wordless ‘what the fuck?’ to the room.

Hizashi looks sheepishly over at Shouta and Nemuri. “Oh shit. Oh man. It was a dream, wasn’t it?”

Nemuri stares at him, and then erupts into raucous laughter.

“Oh my god, Mic.”

Hizashi wails, spins in his desk chair in his distress. “I’m sorry! I had crazy vivid dreams last night yo! I had a polar bear and it was totally awesome ‘cause, like, I rode it into battle! And then you stole it, and-“

“You spent a few minutes last night looking for it,” Shouta supplies.

And then, the whole staffroom joins in with the laughter. To the point where Hizashi is weeping, hands on Nemuri’s shoulders and hanging off her like he’s about to collapse onto the floor in tears.

Needless to say, Kan is more than a little baffled to come in and find them all crying, talking about polar bears and Mic being a bitch.

000

Shouta gets home just after Hizashi most days. Working overtime is a bitch.

He finds him sat on the sofa, reading some music magazine cross-legged with the news on in the background. The smell of something cooking fills the room, and the kitchen window lets out the steam. It drifts over the Mustafu horizon.

Hizashi looks up at him. “Welcome home!”

Shouta doesn’t reply, merely drops his work on the kitchen table and collapses onto the sofa, lying his head on Hizashi’s lap.

Hizashi chuckles. Shouta feels his hand rest on top of his head. “Babe. Long day?”

“They’re always long,” he mumbles into his jeans.

Hizashi begins to stroke Shouta’s head. “You work too much.”

“Hmmph.”

There’s the sound of the magazine being closed and thrown onto the living room table. The feeling of fingers carding through his hair. He feels his head falling heavy on Hizashi’s lap, his breathing slowing. He’s getting pins and needles in his feet- they’re propped up high on the arm of the sofa, the blood draining from them.

“Don’t fall asleep before dinner,” Hizashi chastises, with very little conviction.

Shouta doesn’t really hear his words at first. He’s sort of falling asleep already. His half conscious brain eventually measures them, and he stretches like a cat.

“Can’t promise anything.”

Hizashi snorts. “OK. OK. I’ll wake you up when food’s ready.”

His hand continues to card through his hair. It’s a slow, gentle motion that is only making him sleepier. He thinks Hizashi already knows this. Shouta feels himself being dragged back into sleep. Warm. Quiet. The soft material of Hizashi’s t-shirt beneath his fingers.

“Best boyfriend in the world,” Hizashi whispers. 

“Huh,” Shouta mumbles. He’s barely awake. He’s not sure if Hizashi even said anything.

“Nothing. Sleep well, Shou.”

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from two anons. Expect another Imagine today. In fact, expect a lot of Christmassy Imagines until Christmas. I received so many amazing prompts! I altered this one a little because it was Loki’s birthday yesterday. And we ought to celebrate our king, no?

Words: 1974 Warnings: this is slightly sad?

Christmas… the merriest and most joyful time of the year. You snorted. Yeah, sure, Christmas was great if you were surrounded by family and friends, baked cookies together and watched cheesy Christmas movies, not to mention all the presents everyone secretly got for each other only to say “Oh, you didn’t have to!” on Christmas Day.

But the thing was… you had none of those things. No family or friends to celebrate with, no oven to bake cookies in, no TV to watch Christmas movies and certainly no money to buy presents. If anything, witnesses would get paid for handing you over to the police—life as a war criminal was hardly enjoyable for the most part. But what other choice had you had? They had threatened to kill you, slowly and mercilessly until you begged for death if you didn’t comply. And you were too young to die. There were so many countries yet to be explored, so many books yet to be read and… you were yet to fall in love. So you had obeyed, done everything they had asked you to—including havoc, destruction and murder. Now, you paid the price for your so-called self-preservation, for the urge to stay alive.

Guarded by none other than the Avengers themselves, you were going to spend the next few months among SHIELD agents and other would-be superheroes, damned to watch them get into the Christmas spirit and preparing gifts for one another, constantly eliciting your gag reflex.

There was only one other person in the compound who appeared to be an outsider too. An Asgardian, just like Thor, with raven hair, stinging blue eyes and a dangerously fascinating aura which drew you to him like bees round a honeypot. You had heard of him, of course. About the incident in New York and for some inexplicable reason, you did not believe he would stand by his terrible deeds whole-heartedly. No. Loki looked like he suffered—much like yourself.

Several times already you had attempted to talk to the God of Mischief but been stopped by Tony or one of the other Avengers. Stay away from him, they had said. It’s for your own good, trust me. But then again… they were probably afraid you’d team up and try to escape together. Truth be told, you were sure that you would be invincible. Your own powers were by far not as impressive as Loki’s magic and illusions but it had saved you from trouble and hazard throughout your entire life already.

It was the 17th of December when you woke up in your cell-like room and opened the curtains to let in some light and fresh air only to be greeted by a thick blanket of white snow covering the ground outside the compound. You almost squealed. Last time you had seen snow, you had still lived with your parents as a teenager and met your friends to go sleighing. The memories dwelling up were sad but at the very same time so hopeful that maybe, just maybe it could be like this again one day—merry, joyful, and happy.

You didn’t know what came over you when you got dressed and snatched your black winter jack from your wardrobe, rushing through the compound and into Tony’s lap. As you had expected, he was working, a steaming cup of coffee right next to him.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the threshold and, with your head tilted, watched him for a while.

“What do you want?” He sneered eventually. Sighing, you cleared your throat.

“I was wondering if I could go outside for a bit. I haven’t seen snow in years.”

Tony looked up. You could tell he was considering your request. He lifted an eyebrow and studied you as if to discover any hidden motives. When he didn’t find any, he shrugged.

“Okay, if you wanna freeze to death, that’s fine by me. But you wear the ankle monitor.”

Rolling your eyes in response, you wrapped yourself in your winter jacket and nodded mockingly.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to try and escape through several feet of snow, I would be way too fast to be caught.”

You scoffed when he tightened the make-shift tether around your ankle, resisting the urge to kick him in the face when he did. Once he was done and promised that FRIDAY would keep an eye on you, you turned on your heel and left the lab again only to collide with something hard.

Blinking, you glanced up, locking eyes with Loki who today seemed particularly depressed.

“Oh. Hi. Sorry.”

“You seem in a hurry,” he replied disinterested.

“Yeah… I’m heading outside. Care to join me?” Now you weren’t exactly hopeful he was going to say yes but in truth, having someone with you and not be alone for once might be a nice experience—especially out in the snow. Loki almost made you flinch when he replied.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like snow.”

“How can you not like snow?”

“In fact, I hate it.”

“Come on, Loki. Were you going to meet someone else? Besides, we’re snowed in, it’s not like you’re going somewhere?” Defiantly, you raised your eyebrows, mutely expressing your opinion on how well you both got along with the infamous Avengers. Honestly, you were pretty sure none of them cared whether you lived or died. Unfortunately for them, your will to survive was very strong.

“Scared of the cold?” You added teasingly. Loki glanced outside through one of the massive windows in the hallway. The sky was still grey but at least, it had stopped snowing. Technically, you were right. He was not going to meet someone else and here you were, a silly little mortal and fellow prisoner asking to spend time with him. He was so taken aback by the fact someone would willingly ask him to do something together he actually thought about joining you. He wouldn’t have to touch the snow, after all.

“Not at all, little minx. Unlike you, I don’t even need a warm winter coat.”

So here you were now, walking in the snow with the God of Mischief himself. It was… nice. The tension between you was hardly uncomfortable, if anything because you both shared a past that had left scars on your hearts.

Shivering a little, you buried your ice cold hands in your pockets to keep them warm. Loki had not lied to you. He was strolling next to you seemingly unaffected by the freezing temperatures.

“So… Thor is your brother, right?”

The God of Mischief sighed. “Yes. He is my brother.”

“You don’t get along very well…” You continued, attempting to make some kind of conversation with him. You desperately wanted to get to know him better, learn what was going on in that mischievous mind and broken heart of his.

Loki’s mocking expression set your teeth on edge.

“How did you guess, I wonder?”

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m trying to figure you out, I guess. There is something about you that I like but I don’t know what it is yet. So I’m trying to find out.” You confessed, shrugging in the process. You had nothing to lose, after all. No family, no friends, no reputation. If you didn’t try, you’d never know.

Loki himself did not know why he opened his mouth to respond. Perhaps it was because of the same reason you were so deeply fascinated by him. You were different. Different from those self-proclaimed superheroes intending to make the world a better place. Selfishness and self-preservation were not always bad things… not really.

“Thor has always been the favoured son. We drifted apart a long time ago. New York… changed it all. I would not expect him to stand up for me again, to care. Especially not today.”

“That’s… horrible, I’m sorry. But… at least you still have family. Who knows, maybe you can put your differences aside one day.”

Loki shook his head.

“Oh no… this ship has sailed the day I learned…” He stopped himself. “It is unlikely. Especially after today.” He repeated, his blue gaze drifting away sadly.

“What’s so special about the 17th of December anyway then?”

Loki smirked bitterly. “My birthday. It is my birthday.”

You had never known what it felt like to suffer from a broken heart. But the pain that went through your chest upon his words had you distort your face uncomfortably.

“He… he didn’t even remember?” You choked out.

“No. He did not.”

Silence spread between you. It wasn’t unpleasant though—much rather a mute and mutual understanding. Compassion.

“You know, maybe we should spend Christmas together. We’ll stead food from the kitchen and hide in the library all night long.” You suggested, shyly smiling up at him.

Loki frowned. For a brief moment, it seemed like he was disgusted by the idea. Spending Christmas Eve with a mortal, wasn’t that… below him? On the other hand… would you really be willing to spend time with him when no one else in the compound, not even his own brother who had forgotten his birthday, would?

“Yes. Maybe we should.” Your smile grew, even more so when you noticed a few lonely snowflakes fluttering to the already white ground.

“Let us head back inside.”

“What? No! It’s starting to snow again!”

“Exactly.”

“Loki, you’re not made of sugar, a few snowflakes won’t kill you.” You replied giggling. Loki’s nostrils flared as he breathed in heavily, glaring you down strictly.

Only when the first frozen drops of water landed on his raven hair and flawless skin did you realise why he was so keen on escaping the snow. He was turning blue, his eyes… his eyes changing colour to a bright red.

“What in the… Loki, are you alright?”

The God of Mischief rolled his eyes, gnashing his teeth in the process.

“Yes. I am alright. Now let us head back inside. I will not hesitate to leave you out here on your own if you refuse.”

That stung. Lips parting, you looked up at him hurt.

“Don’t be like that…” You mumbled quietly.

You had read about Frost Giants, Jötuns. Loki was… one of them? How was this possible? Was he Thor’s brother after all?

Loki closed his eyes briefly in response. He didn’t mean to snap at you like that but he also didn’t wish to scare you away with the fact he was a monster. He had, by chance, met this one person whom he felt like he could bear being around, he was not going to lose you to his repulsive self; and yet, an apology would not leave his thin lips.

“I’m so sorry.” He suddenly heard you whisper. “I wouldn’t have tried to persuade you to come outside with me if I had known…”

Loki narrowed his stunning blue eyes at you.

“You are sorry?”

“Y-yes? I mean… you don’t want anyone to see? Is… is that why you hate snow?”

He nodded grimly.

“You should see Jötunheim. It is not among the happiest of places within Yggdrasil’s branches.”

“But this is not Jötunheim. This is the suburbs of New York City in winter and unlike Frost Giants, we celebrate Christmas. Snow can be beautiful. Just think about the possibilities! You can build snowmen and go sleighing for hours without ever getting cold!” You attempted to cheer him up. For a while, Loki said nothing.

“It is hard to believe you are a prisoner here.” He then suddenly stated bluntly.

Smiling sadly, you shrugged.

“I did what I had to do to survive… and I think you did, too.”

He nodded, finally making his way back inside.

“Oh… and Loki?”

He turned around again half-heartedly, curious as to what else you had to say.

“Happy Birthday.”

This time, his smirk was genuine.

A/N: Guys, YOU can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente

[fisherfurbearer]

Updates

Well.

It’s my 21st birthday today.

I’ve been very quiet here since winter, but in actuality so much has happened. I’m still sorry for being-here but not-being-here, and vanishing on everyone waiting on art, but it’s really been a whirlwind. Just a real wild ride.

I had this big, rambling post written up, explaining what’s happened so far this year and what’s been going on, but I don’t think it’s necessary really. What matters is that I’ve made it this far. This time six months ago I really wasn’t sure if I’d make it to see today. But. Here I am.

I feel like life has been pretty unrelenting in the past few years, and it never seems to end. Between this post and my last text posts, I’ve had another Break Down due to problems with work and doctors, and it’s been pretty terrifying, but I think it’s going to be okay. We’re not out of the woods and I really need to focus on this right now so I still won’t have time to get back into art (which I do plan on doing!! But it’s really not fair to anyone for me to start up again when I’m still not completely stable) and everything else.

But hey. Even after that recent disaster, I’m still here. I’ve been on much better meds for almost 5 months now, I’ve been figuring out what I want to do with my life, and I have my second wind. Things have been getting a lot better (even though a LOT has also been going wrong, but such is life, and we get through it!) and I’ve been on the right track for several months now. I think I’m truly happy.

I’m still here and so is most everyone else. I figure it’s about time I do an update on everyone, as this is a pet blog after all, and I think it’s best to let everyone know how we’re all doing. It’s been a long time since I really talked about everyone properly, and a lot has happened. So here’s the all-encompassing update on everyone:

INVERTS

I posted about this a bit before, but yes. At the start of July I found that I lost about half of the tarantulas. While I think in general we were doing okay picking up the pieces from everything that happened, not everyone was alright. It’s my fault, and I take responsibility. I don’t care how tough things were, it wasn’t fair to them that I let them go unnoticed for too long. Most of the slings passed away, they got too dry, and the more moisture dependent ones passed away as well, including Boopus, Conte, Lucy, and Cassini.

There is a huge hole in my heart from losing them. I will never let this happen again. I don’t CARE how hard things get for me, I will NEVER let my illness take the lives of the ones I care about ever again. I don’t know if it’s the right decision to continue keeping Ts at all after what happened, but since it did, Jessie and I had a very serious conversation about was has to change if I want to keep the remaining Ts. I’ve spent a lot of time re-working how I care for everyone, and so far, everyone has been recovering VERY well. The remaining Ts are: Agnes, Deckard, Isidore, Montag, Winnipeg, Wilder, Flaveri, Kessler, Kitty, and Turnip. They are all fat and hydrated and doing better. Deckard and Isidore molted successfully, and Winnipeg is deep in pre-molt. Montag had some sort of weird kinda-mites-but-not-mites thing going on, but I got most of them off and they’ve been doing really well for about a month now.

Suffice to say I think everyone is going to be okay. The ones that are here. I do love them deeply and I need to not let my illness get in the way of them. My depression was slowly eating away at everything I loved, including them and my desire and ability to care for them, but I will never let it happen again. No matter what, I’ll do what’s best for them, even if it’s a tough decision.

As for the other inverts...the roaches are all doing very well. Red goblins have had their ups and downs but the colony is big and thriving. I finally have adults again and babies are cropping up once more. My dubia colony is finally stable and they’ve been delightful waste disposals for all the ugly peppers and bolted greens from our poor little garden. The rothi, the Original Dig Sons, are STILL kicking. I thought the female was gone but she cropped up again and is as gigantic and cute as ever. They’re chubby and happy and digging like champs. The little kenyans are also doing well!! I’m moving them in with the dubia and they seem to thrive with them. Everyone is peaceful and passive to one another, and by being in the bigger colony they have much more space and food options than before.

All in all, the inverts are recovering and doing okay. I also have thriving isopod cultures in the geckos’ vivs, and they’re doing very well! Lots of orange P. pruinosis in there.

REPTILES

Vladimir and Estragon are doing WONDERFULLY. After the fire I was very worried about the smoke, but both geckos have been perfectly fine and very active and healthy, especially as the weathers warmed up. Estragon is exploring all the time now, and has recovered well after all the stress of moving around so much earlier this year. As I type this he’s climbing the glass of his viv and mleming the air. He’s such a little man and I love him. I’ve been watering the vivariums properly again and they’ve been exploding with growth! Not all the plants made it but the ones left actually need trimming, they’re growing too fast!! The local pet place has lots of vivarium plants available actually and I got a couple that I’m going to plant in the empty spots for the boys. So right now the vivs definitely look a little wonky, but it’s nothing we can’t fix, and the boys themselves are doing GREAT. They lost a little weight after all the chaos, but Gogo is a good chunky boy and Didi is doing awesome too!! Eating lots and he even catches the loose roaches that have been living in the leaf litter, which is pretty cool to watch and great enrichment for him. My little men have been doing so good and I’m so happy that we’re all okay. <3

MAMMALS

Before the fire, I had recently gotten my very first rats, which was a huge deal on here, if any of you remember that!! Java, Lisp, and Python have been thankfully 100% okay after the fire, and have suffered 0 smoke injury! They were farther from where it happened, but there was definitely some smell in my room but now, eight months later, I think it’s safe to say that they’re unaffected. The rats are doing GREAT. They get pampered every single day by everyone here, and my roommate LOVES them. Even when I couldn’t take care of them, he’d feed them and squish them daily, which was a huge help while I dealt with all the craziness. I’m getting back into the routine and taking over their care again, but I can’t thank him enough for his help.

The rats are now THE BIGGEST BOYS and Java is the BEST bean!!! He went from peeping and running away when we first got him to bruxing like CRAZY whenever we hold him and he loves being squished. I don’t know why. They all just love being held and squished and Lisp has some really unsettling Extreme Happy Boggles when we do it, he loves being crushed. (Not that we actually “crush” them, just gently pretend to squish them with our hands while joking about squashing them into pancakes)

They get so much love every single day, and they’ve been one of the best things to ever happen to us. Unfortunately since moving here (and I wasn’t aware of this until the day of move-in, haha, lucky me...) they’ve had to live in the basement which is colder than I’d like and makes it hard for me to care for them, but soon we’re switching to 100% fleece and they’ll be able to live up here with us properly!! I’m so excited about it and it’ll make caring for them so much easier. I’m so excited.

OH and how could I forget. I put off saying this but we DO have a few more pet friends since I last mentioned everyone in December. We bought five little mice into our home many months ago, and their names are Awesome Opossom, Moggles the Mole, Inspector Beans, Bhombus, and Trungalo. They were one of the best things ever, for me. They’re the perfect fit for our lives and they’ve been thriving since we got them. They’re so relaxing and wonderful, and they are incredibly calm and squishy little girls. Sadly, Possie passed away a month or so after she came here (she was almost like a FTT...she was doing so well, then she just...she wasn’t growing like everyone else, no matter what I did, and one day she just. Didn’t make it. We found her snuggled up in her favorite hide in a pile of fleece. No one bothered her. She passed away peacefully.) and she just...she was here for such a short time but she changed everyone’s lives forever. She was the most incredible little thing. She was so outgoing and sweet and when we bought them home she instantly became Nick’s favorite little friend. I’d come home from work and he’d be in the middle of the living room playing with her. He loved her so, so much and even though the mice “are mine” I really think Possie was his. She was a very special little thing and I’m glad she could spend the last of her time with us. She was an incredible little animal.

All in all though...the rodents are doing good. It still hurts my heart that Possie passed away but we did everything we could and we had a special little service for her under the big tree in the backyard, and we will never forget her. I kinda wish everyone here could’ve gotten to know her too. She was really something special.

Otherwise...ahh gosh it feels really sad to say anything else after talking about Possie. She was so, so wonderful, but so are the remaining meecers. Mice are weird. They’re just so small and gentle and wonderful, and I’m really happy to have them with us.

Oh yes!! And there are two more little friends who joined us. I researched getting birds for a few years, and back in mid-April in my area there was a couple having to rehome some of their button quail. They hatched and raised them by hand, and I talked it through with Jessie and we jumped on the opportunity to adopt a pair. It worked out wonderfully for everyone and now it’s been about four months with us and they’re doing fantastic. Their names are Wasabi (male) and Mushroom (female) and they’re an extremely devoted mated pair and we love them. They’re in our front living room and while we don’t/can’t handle them they have become so outgoing in their own way and I’ve learned so much about caring for them over the past few months. They’re very relaxing to care for and any time I slack a bit with anything, they let me know by tapping the front of the enclosure until I investigate and fix whatever’s wrong. It’s actually really helpful and over time I’ve gotten much better and now they hardly ever pace or tap the front, which makes me feel like I’m doing something right. They seem peaceful and spend a lot of their time with each other and bathing in their dirt bath or foraging for treats. c:

All in all, we’re really getting there and have been getting so much better since The Disaster that was winter. The animals are doing great/much better, I’m getting better (although the recent scare is still a drain and I do have to work 12-9 pm today but so it goes...) and it’s going to be alright, I think. And I have a very supportive partner and awesome roommate and friends and I can’t thank them enough for helping me get this far. I wouldn’t be here without them.

Well anyway. Happy birthday to me, I spent way too long writing this and now I need to rush to get ready to work for the rest of the day/night. But so it goes, I’ve been through worse. c;