#because instead of working with us to remedy the situation for both cats

[cockroachpr-1-nce]

i need our roommate to die

[drymbp]

white knight | lisa

A/N : Hello everyone! I'm finally posting my first ever imagine out here in Tumblr! I'm still new to writing and I hope to get better at it soon.

This idea was inspired by a dream, and I couldn't stop myself from turning it into a Lisa fic, because it just felt right.

Happy reading :)

~

Lisa should have returned with her band mates after rehearsals. But instead she chose to stay back and practice more until she was out of breath and one thing led to another, and she landed herself on the ground with a twisted ankle. Luckily you were on your break returning from a café, and you just happened to pass by the Blackpink practice room when you heard a scream. You rushed into the room and saw Lisa from BLACKPINK howling in pain.

"Are you alright miss?" She looked at you and gave you a weak smile. You cursed yourself for your lack of sense, and got down on you knees inspecting her ankle. "I'm sorry for that earlier, but I believe we need to get you to the doctor as soon as possible." She nodded, trying to get up but wasn't able to put pressure on her leg and struggled to stand without being in pain. You felt really bad for the idol, so you did what you thought was right.

You crouched down before her, and asked her to hop on, she seemed hesitant at first, but the way you looked at her made her want to obey you somehow. So without further ado, you walked out of the room carrying Lisa. Thankfully you met her manager, who you knew as a senior because you were an intern, and explained the situation. Immediately y'all made your way to the back of the building after making sure everyone's face was well hidden. She had worn the hood over her cap, to make sure nobody recognizes her.

Once you were out, you lowly whispered. "Please hide your face, we don't want people to know it's you and have them follow us." She nodded and hid her face by your neck, you could feel her breath hit you neck, making goosebumps arise all over your body. She held on to you tightly as you made your way towards the company van. The manager opened the van door, and you carefully put Lisa down, making sure she was comfortable in the seat. By the time you were preparing to leave, Lisa tugged at your sleeves, making you look at her curiously and then the manager.

"Get in Miss L/N, might as well help us a little more. You got inside with Lisa, while the manager sat at the front instructing the driver to get to the hospital soon. The ride was silent, unless the manager asked you questions about how it was working in the company, to which you replied professionally. Lisa had been looking at you the whole time, and you could feel her stare, so you turned to the right to check and caught her staring. She quickly averted her gaze, trying to act cool as if she wasn't caught red-handed. You chuckled, causing her to smile.

~

You had somehow made it to the hospital without people knowing and you were relieved. The doctors quickly came to aid, arranging a private room for Lisa. You were standing with the manager, while he was talking to the doctor. Thankfully, it wasn't serious and it would get better if she takes rest and puts ice on them within 2-3hr intervals. The both of you made your way to Lisa's room, the manager informing her that she was free from activities for a while. He left shortly afterwards making a call and with that you were left with Lisa.

She motioned for you to come near and to take a seat, so you did. "How are you feeling?" You asked looking at her wrapped up ankle and then at her. "The pain's alright for now though it hurts if I move it, aside from that it's all good, thank you for carrying me and stuff--" She trails off, looking at you expectantly. You furrow your eyebrows thinking what she meant, then you realize she's asking for you name so you shyly flash her a smile which Lisa finds cute and coos. "Y/N L/N." She nods, saying your name a few times to check how it sounds on her lips, once she's satisfied, she holds out her hand for you. As you return the gesture her smile gets brighter. And you can't help but think how pretty she looks when she smiles, her doe brown eyes stand out making her look like a doll. If you were to be asked to describe Lisa, you would be at a loss of words. Words cannot do justice to her beauty. The more you stare at her the more heat rushes to your cheeks, you internally slap yourself for having these thoughts though you heart doesn't listen.

"Thank you for the help Miss L/N. I would be happy enough to have you in our team. You're really helpful. I must say I was impressed." The manager pats you in your back and you smile thanking him for the kind words, and do a mini dance when he's not looking but Lisa has been watching the whole interaction and chuckles making you hide your face and look everywhere but her and that makes her laugh again.

What a way to woo your crush.

~

You're again seated with Lisa at the back as you guys head to drop Lisa at the dorm. This time, Lisa makes small talks with you about her 5 cats. Leo, Luca, Louis, Lily and Lego and you can't stop smiling as she talks about her cats with so much love and adoration. "What about you Y/N, do you have pets?" You nod filling her in about your P/N and how he/she likes doing their favorite pass time. (P/N - PET NAME)

By the time you've finished telling her this one story, you've arrived at the dorm. You feel sad because you were genuinely having fun, though you don't let it show. You get out, waiting to take Lisa by the hand but she just pouts. "Carry me Y/N, my ankle hurts with all the walking I did from the hospital." The manager looks at you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry to have you do this, but please help us Miss L/N." You see Lisa from the corner of your eye winking at you, and you swear you would have exposed her but then you don't want to be rude infront of your superior so you crouch down, while Lisa hops onto you with a smile. The manager opens the door for you, and waits outside. You walk in with Lisa in your back while she mumbles a genuine thank you and so you hum letting her know it's alright and you're not mad. As you enter the dorm, you spot the other members by the living room, sitting on the couch munching on food. Jennie is the first to spot you and Lisa, and she gets up walking to you, gathering the attention of the other two idols.

"Lisa! What happened? How can you be so careless?" Jennie turns into full mom mode when she notices Lisa's wrapped up ankle. And you try to suppress your laughter finding it cute. Lisa however notices you trying to laugh so she pinches your cheeks, making you whine. Jisoo swats away Lisa's hands from your cheeks, and offers you a smile while you mouth her a thanks. Rosé arranges the cushions for Lisa as you lie her down on the couch.

The girls thank you on behalf of Lisa while you bow and say it's alright. You get ready to leave, but Lisa calls you. "Y/N aren't you forgetting something?" You look back at her and snap your fingers realizing you should tell her the remedy. "Ah yeah, you have to put ice on your ankle within 2-3hr intervals so as to ensure that the swelling doesn't increase." Lisa shakes her head at your obliviousness and takes out her phone, flexing it in front of your face. "You forgot to give me your number. You promised to show me pictures of your P/N." You look at her incredulously while the other members just laugh and make their way to the kitchen to give you both some privacy. You contemplate whether it's professional of you to hand her your number, no it isn't. But the puppy eyes she shoots you makes it harder for you to decline and you hesitantly hand her your phone. She punches her number in, saving it with various emojis.

Lisa🐒🐥🐈🖤💗

You laugh at her choice. She sends a quick text from your phone to herself and saves your number with God knows how many emojis.

Finally, you get up to leave before she pulls you by your hand and kisses your cheeks leaving you flustered. "Uhm I-- You- I- must leave. M-My superior's wait-waiting bye!" You run off, almost stumbling into a wall.

You're falling for her and there's no denying.

~

The next day, dispatch and various news channels reveal photos of you carrying Lisa from the building to the van. Some fans share their worries about their favorite idol while some joke about the picture being from a movie scene. Both Knetizens and Fans are curious about the mysterious person, setting the news to trending. You go through a few other articles, until one of them catches your eyes.

BLACKPINK LISA SAVED FROM ANKLE INJURY BY MYSTERIOUS FEMALE. FANS CALL HER THE WHITE KNIGHT!

By the time you've finished reading, you get a message from Lisa.

Thank you my white knight, hope to have your exclusive services limited only for myself. Meet me soon <3 Would love to know more about you 🙈

[gamer-logic]

Hetalia Platonic Ships Week Day 2: Coronvirus Chaos

When the virus hit, all the countries were forced to cancel the meeting and quarantine at their respective houses, and use zoom. Here are my headcanons of how the 1p and 2ps would fair!

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human.

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild a and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human. Alfred likes to mess with the filters on the screen to tick off Authur but gets serious when it matters. Also, Tony hacks into the meeting from time to time to hear updates so he can better understand how to cure the virus and also troll everyone. Allen is running damage control to keep the kids from killing themselves and they'll often switch.

The Canadians: Similar to the Americans with how they're quarantined at home with the 13 provinces. They actually start panic buying too. However, instead of toilet paper, they buy up everyone's pancake ingredients and a bottle of maple syrup insight into every normal human's befuddlement. Hey, feeding 13 kids is hard! Unlike the states, the 13 last even shorter t thanks to Quebec who sees a prime opportunity to rebel once more. As for groceries, Quebec gets them for his punishment. Kuma and Kumajirou provide great comfort to animals when it starts getting tense and anxious due to cabin fever. Not only that, but they bring home the literal bacon with James when he goes hunting. Watching Kuma go pounding through the woods with Kuma on his back is a sight to behold and has since gained over 5 billion views on Utube. Everyone helps out in remedying this by creating a ginormous fort for them all to sleep in. This eventually includes Quebec when his punishment ends. Kuma likes sitting in Canada's lap during zoom meetings while James often struggles with keeping the provinces in check. Cue him doing an exact impression of the video with the woman sliding in like she's on ice to get the kids out while her husband is on video.

The Frenchmen: Francis, the drama queen that he is, freaks out about not being able to go out anymore and being forced to wear such ugly masks. Luiz could care less as this is exactly what he's been doing and just carries on until he hast to calm Franics' shrieking at how he'd been forced to home and not go shopping anymore. Francis ends up collaborating with Flavio in his new mask line to remedy the 'threat to fashion everywhere.' He also keeps up with his and Author's rivalry by mail, fondly reminding him of the previous years dealing with ink and a quill. Both Francis and Author have their own chatroom dubbed 'Britain and France's fighting chatroom," or more affectionately, "The 100 years chat."

The German Brothers: They all buy up the beer and Ludwig starts implementing extra training because 'you can't let a pandemic let you get soft! Now run like you're running from a human-sized germ!' Their house soon becomes a minefield with the prank war Lutz and Prussia initiate. Klaus loves the extra peace and quiet he's been getting now. Blackie, Astor, and Berlitz are happy their humans are home much more often now and are getting very spoiled. Ludwig takes control of the computer while on zoom because he knows what the others would do with they got it. Lutz and Gilbert keep making fart sounds and shuffling noises in the background, leaving Klaus to just sigh and a tomato face Ludwig to stammer on with the meeting.

The Italians: Flavio takes one look at the masks and immediately gets inspired for a new, pandemic edition, line of masks, and mask-related cloths including the two in one mask dress. Luciano let all his men go home with their only orders to be safe and stay healthy as he's not willing to relive the Black Plague. Lovino will never admit this, but he's kind of glad for the pandemic since it's given him the chance to spend time with his brother. Though this doesn't;t stop Spain from calling to check in 3 times a day. Feliciano tries to do all kinds of new things to keep everyone's spirits up and is also the guy who stole all the store's pasta, tomatoes, and sauce. Flavio makes all four of them show up fashionably late to the zoom conference despite it being online.

The Russians: Viktor keeps up with his work as much as possible and both he and Ivan have to hide their grins when their president has to quarantine. They don't really like him much. Ivan tries looking at pictures of sunflowers to keep himself occupied. He fears the loneliness quarantine brings, but Viktor tries to be around more so he doesn't get so lonely as he's also felt that pain before. He doesn't want Ivan to be like him who doesn't have friends nor the time for them. Out of the two, Viktor is the most serious about his work and is often seen using zoom for meetings.

The Japanese: Both are enjoying the introvert's paradise but are also worrying over the rising cases in their countries especially since they had to host the Olympics. They did so flawlessly but also struggled in keeping things as stable as possible. They both hold guilt for putting their citizens in such a dangerous situation. Both end up doing a video game/anime marathon with the rest of the Otaku club over zoom. Kuro sets to work refining his swordsmanship skills and actually starts forging new ones. He's a great weaponsmith! Kiku also takes the time to practice his calligraphy. They're the one's who'd have anime playing in the background or their cat, Japaneko, getting in the way.

And last but not least, the ones who started it all, the Chinese: Yao continually works around the clock trying to analyze the bad and how the pandemic got out of hand. Xiao ends up being the one who actually started this because he dared the guy to at the soup. He feels a lot of guilt over this and, in a rare showing of maturity from him, is also working by Yao to fix his mistake that not only risked his and everyone else's people but also killed so many. The pandemic will likely be one of their greatest shames. On a lighter note, Yao can't figure out how zoom works and Xiao likes programming troll hacks into the computer to mess with him.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Late Nights, Early Mornings.

Summary: Long distant relationships are difficult, made worse when it's between two men in different colleges. But Freed and Laxus will make it worse, and if secret phone calls late in the night are what's needed then that's what they'll do.

Notes: This was day three for my admissions to Fraxus Week. It's hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus, who you should check out for more Fraxus content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Four Ways to See the Dawn

Year: 1982

Location: Washington DC, USA

"Hey."

"Hey."

Laxus murmured the word, quietly fiddling with the cord to the phone as he glanced at the sleeping man in the other bed. The stranger seemed to be sleeping soundly, snoring without a care in the world, and so Laxus felt pretty confident that he had privacy. So long as he didn't make too much noise, he could speak without being overheard.

Good, this was going to work.

It wasn't ideal. It was nearing two AM, and Laxus had found himself fighting sleep as he'd waited for his roommate to pass out. The guy was apparently something of a party animal, and he was fully taking advantage of the many frat parties, drinking nights and mixers that filled the first weeks of college. Laxus had avoided them all – they were all too loud and rowdy for him – but he understood the appeal. He couldn't be angry that the man was so unpredictable; Bickslow would hardly know that he was stopping Laxus from his phone call with Freed, after all.

Freed didn't have the same problem. His college, which was half way across the country, didn't have roommates to worry about. He'd promised that he'd be waiting by the phone for him whenever he was ready to call, and he'd answered the moment Laxus had rung.

"You sound tired," Laxus teased. "Didn't wake ya, did I?"

"No, but it was close," Freed chuckled, and the sound was incredible. "I missed hearing your voice."

"Me too."

They'd promised themselves that, for the first two weeks, they wouldn't talk. College was a big thing, and they couldn't fuck it up, so decided they need to fully submerge themselves in college culture instead of becoming shut-ins who only spoke to one another. It was the right thing to do, they both knew it, but Laxus had been missing Freed's presence every day, and no amount of taster classes, tours around campus, and bottles of tequila would remove that.

Freed had always been there. They'd grown up on the same street, played on the same sports teams, and attended the same house parties. Jokes had been made that they were attached at the hip, and that they might as well be inseparable with how much time they spent together.

Laxus had to smirk at those jokes. If only they knew.

It had happened quite randomly, really. Laxus had broken his leg in the last year of high school, and he'd had to sit out on the final game in their baseball tournament. Freed had ended up hitting the home run that won their team the game, and had been rightly commended. Laxus had stumbled into the locker room on his crutches when everyone was left so he could congratulate the man in private. Freed had clearly noticed that Laxus was more melancholy that joyful, and forced Laxus to admit it felt shitty to miss the final game of his high-school career, even if they did win.

Freed had waited for a moment, thinking of what to say. Then, with his thigh resting against Laxus' non-broken leg, he quietly whispered 'I won it for you, you know. Not for the team.' The words were packed with years' worth of friendship and passion, and they were forever imprinted on Laxus' mind.

He'd kissed the man without thinking. Freed had kissed him back.

What followed was a summer of making out, going to the romantic spots around Magnolia under the pretence they were still just friends, and, on the last night before they left for college, they'd slept together for the first time. It had all been incredible.

But the summer had to end, and they could hardly keep going as they had. Magnolia was small, and their friendship was known well enough there for nobody to question how much time they were spending together. Now they lived in different states, a long and expensive train ride away from each other. The making out and the dates and the sex would have to stop, because it didn't make senses for it to continue. All they had left was quiet phone calls late at night where nobody could overhear them talking.

It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

"You, erm, you done many classes yet?" Laxus asked, cringing at the awful question.

"No, they start on Monday," Freed answered, and shifted slightly. Laxus idly wondered if he were in his bed or not. Freed looked good in bed, curled up in a dressing gown with a book. If Laxus was there, he'd content himself by running his hand through his hair. "You?"

"A few taster things, just tryin' to find out what I wanna major in, y'know," Laxus all but scuffed his feet. He hadn't expected this to be this awkward. "Guess you don't have that problem."

"No," Freed agreed. He was training to by a surgeon, Laxus was at college mainly because he didn't know what else to do with his life. "How's your roommate?"

"He's good. A little weird but seems harmless," Laxus glanced at the sleeping man, who was stretched over his bed and drooling. "Seems to be out at parties most nights, so maybe I'll be able to call ya earlier in the night. Not force ya to stay up so late."

"It's worth it," Freed said without missing a beat. "I've missed you, Laxus."

"I missed you too," Laxus whispered.

Neither man spoke for a moment, and Laxus wished he knew what to say. He wished he had a ridiculous story of his fun, interesting college life that he could use to break that layer of awkwardness and entertain Freed with. But he'd done nothing; college was much less interesting than he had been led to believe. He couldn't think of a thing to say, and the electric humming of the phone was getting on his nerves.

Freed must have felt the same way, as Laxus could hear him fidgeting across the phone. Laxus wished he could just pull the man into his arms, as he often had in their quiet nights alone over the summer. But he couldn't. For months, he couldn't.

"It's gonna get easier, ain't it?" Laxus asked. "Doin' this?"

"It will," Freed said, and he sounded sure. "It'll take some time, but it will."

"Fuckin' better," Laxus mumbled more to himself than to Freed.

"It will," Freed repeated. "And thanksgiving is only a few months away, and we'll be able to see each other then."

"Guess so," Laxus nodded, trying to feel encouraged. "You still doing thanksgiving with me and Gramps?"

"If he'll still have me."

"He will," Laxus replied immediately, and then forced a smile onto his face. "And I promise it'll be more successful than last year."

"More successful? Is that possible?" Freed asked sarcastically, and Laxus chuckled.

"You saying that me and Gramps getting into a screaming match, the turkey ending up in the cat's litter tray, the two of us getting covered in cranberry sauce, and the neighbours making a noise complaint wasn't successful?" Laxus scoffed, smiling as he remembered the night the previous year.

He also remembered how, just before Freed drove back to his own home, he'd confessed that it was one of the most enjoyable thanksgiving's he'd had.

"You seem to not realise that, with long hair, pureed cranberries really have a lot of space to hide in," Freed chuckled. "A problem you don't seem to face."

"I'll aim for your face this year then," Laxus grinned.

"That's all I ask," Freed was grinning too, Laxus could hear it in his voice.

The situation wasn't immediately remedied, but they found themselves talking about the ridiculous shared moments they'd endured in Magnolia, and Laxus felt the awkwardness seeping away minute by minute. It was nowhere near as good as driving to the mountains, lying on his car's roof with Freed curled against him, but damn if it wasn't the best couple of hours he'd spent since arriving in Washington.

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he did remember waking up sometime later in the morning. The phone was clutched against his chest, the line dead, and the sunlight was fluttering under the curtains. He smiled privately, and closed his eyes, phone in hand.

---

"Freed, you okay? It's four in the mornin'?

"Hey. You're awake. Hi."

Laxus forced his eyes open, groggy and sleep deprived. He blinked a few times, sitting up. The ringing of the phone he'd just answered seemed to still be blaring in his mind, and the overly loud, inelegant words that his boyfriend had just near yelled into his ears made Laxus wince. It was nearly four thirty in the morning. Why the hell was Freed awake?

"Course I'm awake, phone's fucking loud," He complained, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "Why're you awake?"

"Ever and Mirajane," Freed said, as if that answered anything. Laxus waited a moment before he realised that was all Freed felt he needed to say.

"What about them?"

"I told them that it was my birthday tomorrow – or, well, it's today now, isn't it. But it was tomorrow when I told them. Well, technically it was yesterday when I told them, but in the context of me telling them about my birthday, my birthday was tomorrow, which is now today," Freed spewed the mess of words out, and Laxus could hear him frowning. "They said I needed to go out drinking. They wanted to take me out for my first legal drink."

"Yer turning nineteen, not twenty-one," Laxus deadpanned, though smirked.

"Oh yes, so I am," Freed was frowning. "I broke the law many times tonight then."

"Sounds like it," Laxus chuckled. "You only just gettin' in? It's pretty late. Or early, I guess."

"No, we left the club at about one. We've been in the dorms for a few hours, Cana knows someone who can get us beer cheap, so we kept going. Someone made me brownies, but I wasn't allowed to eat them because apparently they had pot in them, so Mirajane slapped the guy and said she'd report him to campus security because we only found out when Jet and Droy started talking about the walls having a face," Freed laughed heartily, and Laxus smiled, imagining the man's expression as he did so. "Why do people always put weed into brownies? It's so overdone. Why do you never hear of a pot carrot cake or banana loaf?"

"Brownies are easy to make, I guess," Laxus grinned.

This was uncharted territory for Laxus. Freed wasn't exactly a total rule follower, but his parents were strict and so alcohol was something he'd never risked. Laxus had always wondered what a drunk Freed would be like. Apparently, he rambled and was happy. It was a nice side of him to hear.

"You think brownies are harder than a banana cake? You know nothing about baking," Freed laughed at him, and Laxus smirked. "Do I have time to bake a pot filled gateau, do you think? It might make mother's book club interesting at last."

"Don't spike your ma with drugs Freed," Laxus instructed, and Freed laughed.

"Yes, it sounds bad put like that," Freed agreed. He was quiet for a moment, and Laxus heard the sound of something hitting the floor. Perhaps one of his boots, given the clunk. Laxus had become something of an expert at figuring out what Freed was doing by the sounds he made. "It'd serve them right. Rather see you than them."

"Come on Freed," Laxus sighed. "They're your parents, they wanna see you."

"Well they didn't on parents' weekend, or at thanksgiving, so why now?" Freed huffed, fabric shifting now. He was probably getting into bed. "They're taking me to dinner, and I saw the place. It's got five stars, Laxus. That means it'll be stifled and pretentious. They won't know what to say to me, so we'll just eat in silence and we'll all want it to end because we know we don't have anything in common and they're only coming because it'll look bad if they don't," Laxus wished he could deny the claim, but he knew Freed's parents and that was probably true. "Would've rather gotten the train to Washington so I could see you."

"Shouldn't I be coming to yours?" Laxus asked, trying to change the subject to something less maudlin. "It's your birthday."

"You saw my campus when you drove us home," Freed dismissed, and Laxus supposed he had. They'd driven back to Magnolia together for some time alone, as Laxus passed Freed's college on the drive back. "It's my turn to see your place. Your classrooms, your student lounge," He paused, and was clearly smirking when he spoke again. "Your bed."

"My bed, huh?" Laxus smirked. "What were you gonna-"

Laxus would have continued, but an airborne pillow slammed into his face. It took his sleep-lagged brain a moment to understand what had happened, and he slowly looked towards his glaring, very much awake roommate. He probably should have realised that the phone would have woken them both up, not just Laxus.

They looked at each other for a moment, Bickslow unblinking. Laxus wanted to speak, but no words came, and Bickslow was the one to fill the silence.

"Look, you know I'm cool with you two being together. Probably been to more of the marches than either of you two, so be as gay as you wanna be," Bickslow's voice was croaky and hoarse. "But don't phone fuck when I'm in the room. It's just bad manners."

"We weren't gonna-" Laxus cut himself off. He couldn't be sure of his words, so instead he said a guilty, "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Bickslow shrugged. "Just give me my pillow back and we'll call it even."

Laxus did as he was told, and Bickslow took it, hooked it around his head so it covered his ears, and turned to lie facing the wall. It was as close to privacy they could get in the small room without either of them leaving, and Laxus appreciated the action. When he spoke again, his voice was more of a gentle whisper.

"You should probably get to sleep," He instructed, and grinned when he heard a yawn overpowering his words. "Make sure you drink water before you crash, okay? And don't bother with yer classes, you'll either still be drunk or too hungover to take anything in."

"Yes, I suppose I will be," Freed agreed. "I'll call you once my parents leave."

"Okay," Laxus nodded. "Happy birthday, baby."

"Thank you," Freed said softly. "Goodnight. Love you."

"Love you too."

Laxus hung up the phone, curled himself back under his covers and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to sleep, he heard the grinning words of his roommate as he said, 'you two are so damn cute.' Laxus' retort of 'fuck you' was only slightly less threatening because of the smile he couldn't shake, and the yawn he couldn't hold back.

---

"Don't talk, I need to say something."

"Laxus? What's wrong?"

Laxus was jittery. He'd been jittery all day. He'd had nervous energy throughout the night, and it kept waking him up and he did whatever he could to get to sleep but nothing had worked, and he'd found himself stressed, awake and jittery. He couldn't stop moving. Couldn't stop bouncing his leg or taping his fingers or flexing his arms because he needed to do something with this energy, but he didn't know what.

At six AM, after a night of awful, interrupted sleep, he'd decided enough was enough. He'd changed into running gear, pulled out his Walkman and stormed from his dorm room. He'd ran for however long, and yet the jitteriness didn't go. If anything, it made things worse.

Calling Freed had been a last resort.

He hadn't returned to campus yet, instead finding a phone booth to climb into. It had started to rain as he'd run, and he was dripping wet as he rang Freed's number. The cold and the wet were the last things on his mind. He just needed to get on the call with Freed, just needed to hear that thing's would be okay and that he was making a big deal out of nothing. Freed was a smart guy, and he wouldn't bullshit Laxus about important things. No; Freed would make things okay.

"Dad's court case was moved forward," Laxus spluttered before he could stop himself.

It was supposed to be in the autumn. It was supposed to be months away. That would give Laxus time to prepare himself, to know what he was going to say. To get out of his own head so that he could focus on taking the bastard to jail. It was not supposed to be next damn week!

Laxus was a character witness. In the trial itself, he wasn't all that important, but he knew that the media would love to know what he thought about his father. Ivan was a well-known businessman, and his scandal had been national news. He'd made many enemies over his years working, and people were relishing in his downfall. Everyone wanted to hear how not only was Ivan a bad businessman, but a bad father too. Laxus wasn't ready for the attention, he wasn't ready for anything.

Freed took a moment to think before he replied.

"Where are you?" He asked. "Are you in your dorm? I can hear the rain."

"Erm, no," Laxus shook his head, looking around. "I'm near a park. Not sure where."

"Right," Freed murmured. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need," Laxus faltered.

He needed to be told that everything was okay. That the court case would just be a single day in his life, and he could get past it and move on. He needed to hear Freed saying that he would get past this, and that his life would return to normal. He needed to see Freed's warm smile, the one he seemed to show only to Laxus. He needed…

"It's nothing. Sorry if I woke you."

"Go back to your dorm, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"What?"

"The trains start running early. I can probably be at yours by ten," Freed mused aloud. "I want you to go back and try to sleep. You mentioned that Bickslow has hypnosis tapes he uses to sleep, borrow one."

"Freed, you don't need to come here," Laxus tried to argue, though he didn't want to. "You don't have the money."

"I'll find it," Freed dismissed. "The next train leaves at seven, I believe. I'll be on it."

"Freed."

"Laxus."

Anyone who thought that Laxus was the more stubborn one out of the two of them clearly didn't know Freed.

"You really don't need to come," Laxus whispered, the rain pounding on the small box he sheltered in. "I'll be fine."

"You deserve to be better than fine, Laxus," Freed whispered back.

Silence hung on the line, and at that moment Laxus' world only persisted of the small phonebooth, the rain clattering down on it, and the man on the other end of the phone. He closed his eyes, clenched them shut, and tried to focus on the soft sound of Freed's breathing. Freed was coming. He was coming to make things better. As much as Laxus wanted to protest more, because Freed couldn't afford it and he was going to miss his classes, he just wanted his boyfriend in his arms. He just wanted him there.

"Are you sure?" He asked in a shaking sob.

"Of course," Freed assured him. "Go back to your room and sleep, I'll be there soon."

Laxus did indeed return to his room. He showered off the rainwater, ignored Bickslow's questions as to what happened, and curled up into bed. The white noise tape that Bickslow gave him cleared his mind, and as he assured himself that the clump of blanket he was clinging to would soon be replaced with Freed, he felt everything become just a little more manageable.

---

Sun hit Laxus' face, a gentle warmth that woke him up. He smiled as it happened.

A roadside motel was hardly the most comfortable place to wake up, but Laxus couldn't think of anywhere better to be at that time. No amount of bitter coffee, cramped showers, awful breakfasts, and itchy sheets would stop that. Not when he was waking up with Freed in his arms.

It was Freed's graduation day, the final nail in the coffin of their shared college experiences. Once today had finished, there would be no more dorm rooms, no more phone calls, no more long distance. They just needed to get through the ceremony, and they would be free to spend as much time as they wanted together, without the looming dread of being split apart by the oncoming semester that had previously seemed ever present.

It was over. They were done with college and free to love each other fully and wholly.

They'd found an apartment they could afford. They'd gotten an odd look when their realter had seen two men wanting to live in a cramped, one bedroom apartment, but they didn't care. Three years split apart was over, and they felt they deserved their own place no matter what other people thought about it. They'd more than paid their dues in being apart; they were owed time, and a home, together.

It worked out well. Freed's career meant he needed to continue studying, and he'd found placement in a hospital on a partial scholarship in New York. Laxus, over his time in college, had decided sports journalism was where his passion lay, and he'd been shortlisted for multiple internships in the city. It was all perfect.

Speaking of perfect, Freed made a small mewling sound as he woke.

"Mornin'," Laxus smiled.

"Morning," Freed croaked. He leant up and pressed his lips against Laxus', resting against his body. "You're awake early."

"Excited to see you get yer degree," Laxus shrugged.

"Excited to see me leaving the dorms, more like," Freed chuckled, resting his head against Laxus' chest.

"Can you blame me?" Laxus asked as he ran a hand down Freed's side and kissed his crown.

"Not at all," Freed hummed, contentedly.

Laxus hummed, watching as the new morning sun filled the room. Flashes of a future where this would be his every morning, where Freed would always fall asleep in his arms and wake up beside him. Freed would be his, and he would be Freed's, as they were always supposed to be.

Their love story was quiet, made up of fleeting moments and late-night phone calls. Not the stuff of fairy tales, but, for them, perfect.

[ozarkhealingtraditions]

Animism and Environmental Protection

More articles on my website! 

Animism lies at the heart of Ozark folk belief, although it’s a modern word you probably won’t hear many of the old timers using. In the mountains, this worldview manifests as a deep connection to the land, in particular the local bioregions that surround the individual and community. Old trees, caverns, natural springs, rivers, etc. are viewed not as lifeless land features, but rather as unique personalities with their own lifecycles and souls. Solitary trees in fields are often said to be protected by the “Little People” or Ozark land spirits, akin to the fairies from across the Celtic world, brought to these lands in the hearts of believers. Old growth trees hold their own roles within the spiritual hierarchy and often go by the names of “grandpa” or “grandma.” Natural springs were at one time fiercely protected by hillfolk because of their life-giving waters, used not only to sustain the body but also as sources of spiritual cleansing and healing. Legends and folktales abound about the invisible owners of certain caverns or large boulders that often stand out against the wash of the forest landscape.

Traditional views toward appeasing the land spirits is often simplified to maintaining a good relationship with these otherworldly inhabitants. Protecting and maintaining springs or allowing certain parts of the forest to remain wild are just a couple examples of this important take on environmental protection. A good balance with the natural world was at one time integral to not only the physical survival of hillfolk, but also a means to ensure good spiritual health for the community. This is an equilibrium lost to many modern inhabitants of the Ozarks with more and more reliance shifting off the land itself and onto local grocery stores, city water, and the pharmacy. For many though, this balance is still seen as a part of the Ozark identity. I myself have encountered many old timers who still give offerings of food, smoke, water, and other traditional items to these places of power in order to keep this tapestry of life intact.

This relationship with the land has birthed many traditions of environmental protection amongst those still living closely with the plants and animals of the mountains. It’s a culture rooted in the views of animism, which sees everything in the natural world as possessing its own unique identity. As opposed to many pantheistic worldviews, animism is deeply connected to the spirits of the local landscape as opposed to “higher” beings like gods and goddesses. The spirit of a mountain spring is then unique amongst other entities that might surround it. These guardians are often said to have had their own births at one time in the ancient past. Likewise, they aren’t always considered immortal. The destruction of these places of power then means the death of the individual spirit itself.

On one of my travels, I met an old man who was still shaken by the removal of a huge boulder near his home to make way for a modern road nearly thirty years before my arrival. His family had been on their land for several generations and recalled to mind many of their folktales about the spirits or Little People who had their villages inside the rock itself. It was common knowledge to the local community that disrespecting the rock would bring a curse not only upon the individual themselves, but also their family. This spiritual affliction would manifest as strange illnesses without any physical cure, and it was said the only remedy was apologizing to the Little People and making amends with certain food offerings. In a particularly sad part of our conversation, the old man said when the road crew removed and destroyed the boulder it sent a shockwave through his family. They themselves didn’t see any curses from the removal but he reckoned anyone who was a part of the work had. I asked him what he thought might have happened to the villages displaced by the act and he just shook his head saying, “When something like that happens, they’re [Little People] killed off…they can’t survive outside their homes.” In his words, this act was akin to genocide. It was almost as if members of his own family had been taken away to a very uncertain future.

This was by no means an isolated story and I’ve encountered many people, old timers and young folk alike across the Ozarks with similar tales of cutting down old growth forests, plugging up springs, and more. One woman I met said her family protected an old patch of ginseng near their family home for many generations. “Probably the last one around these parts,” she told me. Because the patch wasn’t on their land, they were unable to protect it from eventual clearing for new construction as the local town expanded. She still cursed the name of the developer, although he’d been dead for years. According to her, the ginseng had put a curse on his family for their disrespect. She said shortly after the houses were built, they had trouble with fires and power outages limited only to that spot. In addition, she said the developer’s family all became “sickly,” and eventually moved away from the area. Whether this tale was true or not, I don’t know, but there were others in the area with similar anecdotes about the situation.

When viewed in these terms, protecting the local environment takes on a very different life from simple ecology. The land is protected not just because of the vital food, water, and medicine it might provide, but because the spirits of the land become members of the family or clan itself. The same respect is shown to these invisible members of the community as it is to the living. Just like a person wouldn’t bulldozer over someone’s house, rip out a home garden, or poison a well, the land spirits are respected and left to their own lives and communities. Maintaining this equilibrium with the natural world then recognizes the vital importance the land has to offer to all those living there.

This belief has been such an important part of the Ozark worldview not just here on colonized land, but it stretches back to our ancient ancestors who didn’t see themselves as being separate or above the natural world but as just another link in the chain. The spirits of the land are important because they’re seen as being individual entities with their own stories, wisdom, and magic to offer. Just like when we lose our own tales, remedies, and other traditional knowledge with the passing of the older generations, never to regain them again, how much have we lost from ignoring the spirits of the land? How many grandpas and grandmas have been lost to us by being thrown into the gears of materialism and so-called progress?

For many people today, this animistic worldview is foreign to our modern mindset. Protecting the environment is left to those struggling in the Amazon rainforests, or those fighting for their rights to clean sources of water. We somehow see ourselves as too forgone, perhaps, or wholly apart from the problem. And meanwhile, our mountains are being leveled for new cookie-cutter housing subdivisions, forests uprooted to make straighter roads, and native prairies dug up and replaced with invasive ornamental plants not suited to our climate and local wildlife. Working towards healing this equilibrium starts with you and your home. Here are some other ways you can help protect the land.

Instead of planting invasive ornamentals like privet, bush honeysuckle, nandina, or bamboo, consult local nurseries that specialize in native alternatives. In many cases, native varieties of plants have much more to offer. They are usually better suited to our climate, require less water, and provide a plentiful source of food for both pollinators and birds. They also add to the seedbank of the land. Seeds travel across large stretches of land by air or are carried by local wildlife. Planting with natives ensures the spread of these important species that are too often shaded out and killed by invasive varieties. You can even help out if you’re living in an apartment with little access to the land. Several friends of mine living in apartments have started planting native flowers in pots on their balconies to attract local pollinators. Many of these wildflowers are also edible and used in traditional Ozark medicines.

Reconsider removing large trees on your property and instead try and maintain them by trimming properly.

Spay and neuter your outdoor cats and participate in local programs to catch and release feral cats. Along with deforestation, outdoor cats are the number one source of native songbird loss here in the Ozarks.

Consider volunteering with groups who help to return natural areas to a more sustainable system. There are several here in Northwest Arkansas who go out to the local trails at certain times of the year and pull out invasive plant species that are killing out the native varieties. If you don’t have a group around you, consider starting one! Consult your local extension office for guides to invasive plants affecting the area.

Protect springs and other natural water sources by volunteering to clean up trash around the area. If you’re unsure of how to clean and maintain natural springs on your own property, contact your local extension office.

Honor the spirits of old trees, springs, and mountains with traditional Ozark offerings of loose tobacco, cornmeal, beans, milk, and water.

Many of these suggestions are doable not only for people who own land but even for those living in apartments or on small lots. Whether you’re someone interested in animism as a worldview, an environmental protection advocate, or even someone who doesn’t really like going outside, it’s important to reconsider your own relationship to the land and help out where you feel comfortable. Extreme actions like chaining yourself to an old growth tree about to be removed aren’t required for caring about the natural world around you.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Hi again! Sorry for not using ask box at first, I'm on mobile lol. Anyways I was hoping you can do the compainions with a male reader who has PTSD and fluff happens? Its no biggue if you can't! Thanks!

Cait:

(I strongly headcanon she has ptsd as well)

“Hey, ya aren’t looking too good......oh shite.”

All because the house you were searching scrap for had a particularly familiar blue crib within it. She knew from the second your eyes went hazy that something was gravely wrong. However it was when you approached the crib and you became numb to her touches and words she was queued to take action.

With a light sigh she finally forced your unseeing gaze away from the crib, dismayed at the far off look your eyes held.

“Sole, look at me, you’re stronger than this.” She whispered in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Come on, let’s just get out of here and go get a pint. Sound good?”

~~

Curie:

“Shh, everything is alright mon amour.”

To say she was confused at first would be a vast understatement. It was for once a normal day, no scavenging, no violence, not even a disenchanted settler going off. Everything was calm and yet you could do nothing to stop the horror of a long gone scene rearing its ugly face, sending terror coursing through your veins. To add to your dismay, you couldn’t stop yourself from striking the petite scientist when she got too close. The illusion was abruptly torn away to reveal her bloody nose and hurt look in her eyes.

After this you tried your best to try to explain yourself through feverish tears, only to be stopped by her with her understanding gaze as she gently sat you down and made haste to administer a mild tranquilizer to ease your troubled mind.

~~

Danse: (he canonically has ptsd)

“Soldier? Sole look at me, I know what you’re going through. I’ve got you.”

Danse definitely isn’t the best at emotional thing, let alone comforting someone. However when he was laying beside your trembling form in your shared bed he knew he had to do something. He took it upon himself to roll you to face him, sighing as you adverted your red tearful eyes from meeting his gaze.

“I-..Danse, it was like I was there all over again.” You sniffled, gasping as he hummed whilst bringing you close into his chest.

“Y-you’re not anymore, no..you’re safe now. I..I wouldn’t let you be in that situation ever again.”

Although he knew well that words would never stop the traumatic nightmares much less absolve either of you from the burden, at least it calmed you.

~~

Deacon:

“Woah, sole it’s just me!”

Naturally Deacon reverted using humor when he saw the first signs of your distress. He was quick to realize the severity of the situation whenever you whipped your head back to look at him with terrified eyes and your hand quickly reaching for your gun.

Luckily you were able to snap yourself out of it before anything terrible became of the situation, but from there on Deacon knew to avoid certain places and worked especially hard on spending a few off days with you to give the rest your mind desperately needed.

~~

Gage:

“God damnit sole, get your head back about ya.”

He’d beat himself to hell and back over it once he realized what was really going on. But..when sole first displayed symptoms of an episode he teased them about it at first, the playfulness fading into annoyance when they refused to leave their home and get their “overboss duties” taken care of for the day.

It was when sole got angry enough to buck up to the raider that he understood exactly what was going on. Well, it was more or less the trembling and tense jaw that gave it away.

“I...I’m sorry.”

~~

Hancock:

“Don’t fret, I’ve gotcha sunshine.”

To be perfectly honest Hancock has seen all kinds of shit being mayor of Goodneighbor so seeing sole absolutely lose their shit at the sound of glass shattering wasn’t a particularly strange ordeal. He didn’t even think to directly link it to an underlying mental illness, no, that wasn’t at the forefront of his mind at the time. The first thing he did was tend to the symptoms of the blatant panic attack, popping a fresh inhaler of jet into his sunshine‘s mouth to calm them down.

Of course after they were calmed he gingerly approached the subject and once they revealed what caused the abrupt panic he gave a solemn smile and nodded in acknowledgement, pulling you into his arms for a loving hug.

~~

Macready:

“Take as much time as you need boss, the caps will still be out there for our taking later.”

He was pretty accustomed to people with ptsd, but seeing his dearest inflicted with him made his heart pang. Either way he understood that even if it wasn’t a flashback or something big, your sudden lack of motivation was also because of the illness. So despite his nature he just laid in bed beside you, occasionally getting up to get food and so, trying to take your mind off of whatever was preoccupying it.

~~

Maxson:

(Totally has ptsd as well)

“It doesn’t make it any better, I know, but I’m here for you.”

He’s grown to suspect every soldier in the brotherhood would eventually develop some form of a stress disorder but that still didn’t prepare him to see his precious sentinel in such disarray and fearful when he approached them overlooking the railing of the airship.

“Sole...” he started with a sigh, his fingers nervously twitching when you didn’t acknowledge his words. “Let’s go back inside.” Was all he could say, eventually just resorting to wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you to captain Cade’s office. That night he did his level best to provide you as much comfort as possible, fixing you both a glass of whiskey and snuggling into your side.

~~

Nick Valentine:

“Doll, if this is too close to home it’s alright.”

He should’ve known better than to bring you along a case, a case where a parent was trying to find their missing child. He just knew it wouldn’t be okay. His suspicions were confirmed as you started to feel in horror walking down a familiar path, unwanted thoughts progressively turning into complete flashbacks as Boston’s chilly air seemed to overtake you. Reminding you all over again of the cold tomb you awoke out of. Before you knew what was happening you were sitting on the cold cement curb of some ruined highway with nick close beside you, sharing a cigarette while gazing at the sky. That was the first and only case nick didn’t get to resolve with you since your partnership.

~~

Old Longfellow:

“Alright cap’n, calm down.”

He would of course been around long enough to see a whole rainbow of ptsd related symptoms. Seeing sole’s widened eyes and quickened breath at a seemingly harmless remark of a harbor person, he knew what was up. That being said he isn’t exactly a “let’s hug it out” kind of person so he instead settled for bringing his lover back to their cabin and pouring some drinks. He wouldn’t dare ask what caused that reaction but if sole was apt to speak he’d be happy to listen.

~~

Piper:

“Um blue..you know I don’t expect you to do all of this, right?”

It was quite the unusual symptom of ptsd but no matter what, even if you were sick you just couldn’t stop yourself from going the extra mile in absolutely everything you do for piper. That wasn’t a bad thing per se but..whenever you began to not even sleep more than four hours before waking and wanting go hound for more stories she knew something was terribly wrong.

It took a while to drag it out of you but once she took time to sit and you let the cat out of the bag she was horrified at first but slowly began to understand. So to attempt to remedy your illness she takes special care to remind you that it isn’t necessary to always be doing something for everyone. Self care is key.

~~

Preston:

“General, for once..the settlements can wait.”

He was well aware of your illness the very first time you displayed even a minor trait. So once the nightmares shook you into a hallucinating awareness he embraced you through your vicious yells and even your pained sobs. The next morning when you tried to pretend nothing happened he hugged you once more, taking your gun from your hands before shaking his head.

“Let’s take today off..”

~~

X6-88:

“Sole just breathe.”

Calm and collected was his m.o., no matter what. Be it his programming or just his core personality. That being said he truly did feel concern whenever he saw his normally equally calm love spiral down into a feverish frenzy of anger and confusion. However instead of wasting time he simply teleported back to the institute with you in (embarrassingly enough) literally in his arms, marched up to the doctor and demanded immediate assessment and treatment. Ranks be damned.

[nasty-b]

No longer new at all

A Reader x Feitan Fanfic

Warnings: Non-con, Graphic, Abuse, Mindfuck

Heed the fucking tags folks

Requested by @bananaprincess0

Feitan wants to go ‘home’. Phinks has been riding his asshole this whole time about the last mission not going as planned when it wasn’t even his fault. It was probably everyone's fault but his. Did that matter? Apparently not, because he’s still sitting here and listening to the blonde chew his ass out for reasons he’s completely unaware of. He might as well just leave, it’s not like they’re going to solve whatever grudge is going around with this ‘conversation’. More like a one sided argument really.“Ey- Ey! Fucking pay attention when I’m speaking to you-“

Feitan continues to tune the other out and look to the side to watch the clouds roll past on the giant canvas that is the sky. Mhh.. he got more poetic. He supposes she rubbed off on him. It almost makes him giddy to think about them two rubbing off on each other.. The short man is faintly wondering what she was up to while he was standing here like an idiot and let Phinks yell at him. Maybe the h/c haired woman was making use of the toys he got her. Some gaming consoles and all for good behavior. He made sure to continue to use the ‘good behavior gets rewards’ tactics and it had worked wonders.

In almost any region at least. She was still repulsed by him touching her in any sort of manner, which was fairly understandable, but not an issue for him personally. Feitan did his remote best to not completely tear his woman apart but sometimes just watching her struggle made him tent his pants.. so maybe, he’s not admitting it but maybe.. he sometimes had a bit of a deathgrip on the woman on purpose to encourage a bit of wiggling. His mood sours at the faint realization that it’s his own fucking fault that she’d flinch every time he touches her. Maybe one day he’ll be able to remedy it, buy her with enough rewards. By now she’d know he’d never actually kill her but hurt her? Feitan’s still very open with that notion.

First week she tried to piss off and he broke both her legs in retaliation. That.. left an impression. After that y/n never tried to run away again but it also made any sort of interaction extremely unreal and fake. She smiled at him but it wasn’t real. She did it because he told her to and that made him only angrier. The man closed his eyes and frowned, his lip pulling tight as he tried to figure out why the woman was being so difficult. It’s as if she was retarded. Feitan could give her literally anything she’d want and here they were, playing cat and mouse because she’d rather cling to a life that didn’t appreciate her-

Then again. First time they met he did kick her in the stomach for no actual reason and more because he had the urge to.. Maybe that’s where he really missed it? The man sighed. Phinks wasn’t getting the program, he’s still talking and Feitan’s out of patience. Maybe leaving was going to be the best action here, if he had to sit through hours of this he’d rather do this later when his mood was better. Right now he’s really lacking the patience for this. Y/n was all alone too, he’d rather spend some time with her. Frankly, Feitan can stand letting off some stress. Heh.. His eyes open as he thought about the primal urge he felt going through his spine.. Oh yeah. He’s getting some ideas.

Whatever, Feitan tensed his legs and stood up finally, to his not extremely impressive height. Phinks gave him a sour look and they ended up staring at each other for a moment. Don’t antagonize him, he’ll only- “I wasn’t listening.” Great job. Phinks goes red like he was about to turn into a lobster but before he can blow up again, Feitan turned his body away and just left the situation all together. He’s ignoring the yelling behind him, the blonde knows well enough to not grab Feitan from the behind. That was like asking for an actual battle. He’s not in the mood for one right now, more into a mood of putting his cock into his girlfriend. Girlfriend. He makes a face at the word. That’s not what she is.

She’s more like.. his woman? Kind of, well not emotionally and not mentally either, they were way too off for that. More of a physical ownership. Not that it mattered, he’d get there eventually. Once he got back to her, he’d just beat it into her. Repeatedly.

She wasn’t bleeding anymore at least. Only the first few times, afterwards it was like her body just grew used to him. Frankly, she felt like a perfect mold around his cock. It’s probably not what she felt like though, seeing her sob and choke in despair as she just looked at him like she had learned the hard way how to do. If she didn’t he usually reprimated her. It was a steep learning slope, but they were slowly getting to a point where she didn’t cry as much. At first she usually would be in visible pain, now it ebbed off to just discomfort.

Feitan made sure she wasn’t in pain anymore. Y/N just loved to make a drama out of it because she was still unused to him. It hadn’t been that long that he’d expect her to realize how good she was going to have it yet. This was a long, wearing process of taming a wild rabbit. Sure, it thought freedom was the way of life but that’s because it didn’t know the comfort of a captivity in luxury and safety. She’s complaining that he’s hurting her, he knows he’s not. Take it from someone who hurt people a lot during his lifetime, he was pretty good at telling when someone was in pain and when someone was just exaggerating. Case in point, when he pulled back and then jerked his hip a bit upwards to slam as deep into her as he could he got a weak gasp instead.

His eyebrow twitches at the sound. It had been happening the past few times, once she had healed from their first time and he made sure to not tear her again. Feitan put a little effort into pleasing her sometimes and, while it was a normal biological reaction that she had little control over, it sometimes did manage to rile her up slightly. Not by much, the woman herself had never cummed while they were together. Mostly because Feitan didn’t care if she did. He tried to give her one at some point but she fought it so violently that he saw it reasonable to let her keep this for herself for now.

Eventually she’d give it to him willingly anyway. He tilts his head at her, slowly reaching up and grabbing her in a mock-gentle fashion by the side of her face and giving her horrified expression a warm and inviting smile as he slowed his pace and just began gently rocking into her. She was flushed and sweat, her h/c hair sticking to her half dressed body. She’s wearing a shirt, because he was not feeling touchy today. Maybe he’d feel it next time. “Even you should start getting bored of your temper tantrums.” They’re not tantrums. They’re realistic reactions to someone raping you but a good opportunity to scrutinize her and make it a huge lesser deal than it was.

It wasn’t that he was dumb enough to think her reactions were overdone, he knew they were valid in the face of what he was doing to her, but if he told her long enough that she was just being dramatic, eventually, whether she knew better or not, she’d feel like it too. The wonders of human mentality. Some people were stronger in that regard than others. Y/n? Not exactly a strong person altogether, the woman was so sensitive to pain just the threat of breaking a finger had her in almost hysterics. Considering she was a civilian that grew up in a normal environment, not that much of a surprise. The woman isn’t answering him. She knew better, unless she agreed with him being silent was her best option.

Feitan didn’t take protest well, in fact, he didn’t take it at all. The man felt his cock twitch when her walls clamped down on him in reflex and he closed his eyes for a bit, just relishing in the sensation. Work had been hard.. (No it hadn’t.) He deserved a break. Deserved some pampering, some indulging in his needs. It’s what he tells himself even though he knew that by moral standards he deserved nothing but a rope around the neck. Good for him that he didn’t care about morals. The need to listen to his had stopped long ago. Feitan pressed his slim body against her and exhaled, she’s shivering, trembling and just biting back wails. She won’t get used to this fast.

He’ll have to keep it up, otherwise this might take forever. Not that he didn’t have the time, or patience. He could muster it if he tried hard enough.

[joy1579]

Can you expand more on the clumsy MC with Jumin? Because Hi! Guilty here! 😅 I have the coordination of a shoe .One time I almost lost an eye because I was packing groceries on my backpack and I took the sharp package quickly to close to my eye (got a cut on the eyelid instead, luckily), I felt 2 times on the shower, slip on the street and felt in various occasions (and from tall places in 2, one time chasing a cat) I even choke on my own saliva, if I'm still living is just luck I swear!

sure and no worries Hun same i legit managed to crack my glasses while they were on my face. if not for them i swear i’d only have one eye. as i was writing this i asked my friends about things i could add and all i got were “do you remember when you....” so yeah all of this might be based on things I've done.

clumsy MC part 2

jumin

-        when you broke your ankle stepping off a curb in heels he got rid of all your heels and made sure he had his arm around your waist ANYTIME there was a curb from then on (his grip makes it legitimately impossible for you to fall)

-        when you accidentally maced yourself the one time you went out with your sister, san’s body guards, he decided body guards where non-negotiable that way you didn’t need to carry personal protection

-        when you fell in the shower there was a 3-week period of showering together (he made it seem like it was something sweet and cute but you knew it was worry)

-        he legit does EVERYTHING he can to prevent you from getting hurt

-        he encourages yoga because it helps balance and flexibility both of which are supposed to help with clumsiness

-        he also read an article about how poor memory and slow response time can affect coordination so he asks if you want to do brain games and memory puzzles together (their actually really fun and it means a consistent date night with jumin so how could you say no)

Yoosung

-        when you fell off the weird scooter thing the doctor gave you for your broken ankle he was torn between angry that you where pushing yourself and sad that you where hurt and didn’t ask him for help (he gently scolds you before setting you up in the living room with everything you need and under his watchful eyes)

-        when you two are enjoying a vacation and you accidentally tumble into the hotel pool you grab for him on the way down and suddenly both of you are soaked laughing at each other’s soaked and surprised faces until the horror of the situation dawns on you. you dropped your phones (and his glasses) as you fell and now they reside at the bottom of the pool

-        when you trip, accidentally spilling the entirety of dinner across the floor and burning yourself in the process he’s rushing too your side only to slip himself and fall as well thankfully NOT burning himself in the process. you two spend the better part of an hour helping each other recover before you return to the kitchen and remember the mess that still needs cleaning

-        he doesn’t know how to become less clumsy so mostly he just tries to disaster prove the important stuff protective cases for his lolol figures, computer and phone. shatter proof or plastic dishes things like that

-        but most importantly he starts getting fluffy rugs and pillows so if you fall (at home at least) you’ll have a softer landing

-        he also gets really REALLY good at first aide he knows all the home remedies (partly thanks to him asking his mom) and starts slowly but surely creating a first aid kit for the both of you

-        you start calling him dr. yoosung because he tends to all your bumps and bruises and that makes the poor boi nearly implode the first few times

saeyoung

-        when he see’s you slam your hand in his car door by accident you swear you’ve never seen him move so fast. he’s got ice on your hand before you can even feel the pain. you joke saying you thought he’d be more concerned about his car than you but he’s definitely not in a joking mood and he scolds you for even thinking like that he’d give every last one of his cars away for free if it kept you safe

-        when rip over one of the cords for his many gadgets consequently almost giving yourself a concussion he saeran and vanderwood spend the rest of the night dedicating themselves to wire management and though saeyoung may never admit it without joking around it does make his tinkering and work much easier

-         when you two where having a tickle fight on the bed and you fell off the bed hitting your head on the counter of the bedside table he got you too the hospital in 10 minutes even through the drive normally took 35 minutes he fidgets the entire time you get stitches and it takes a while for you to convince him that 1: he didn’t hurt you it was an accident and 2: you aren’t mad or even hurt that bad you’ve had stitches plenty of times it’s not a big deal

-        he may be all fun and jokes sometimes but anytime you get close to ACTUALLY hurting yourself he gets right down to business

-        he knows it’s impossible to protect you from everything but if he CAN fix it he will

-        if he is even tangentially the cause he has a tendency to fall back into his old habits of pushing you away for your own good so you have to remind him that he’s the only one for you and explain that it probably wasn’t his fault anyway

zen

-        when you tumbled off the stage at one of his rehearsals and actually had a concussion he started purposefully positioning himself between you and ledges wether it’s the edge of the stage, sidewalk, or even the bed. thankfully his history with acting and stage performance means he has experience in blocking and being aware of where exactly you are compared to other people so it’s not too hard for him

-        when you crack your glasses (while they are in your face) he swears he saw his life flash before his eyes. you point out he wasn’t in danger and he says “i saw YOUR life flash before my eyes jagi!” he thanks the lord for your glasses where their to prevent what would have happened if you had hit your eye! of course he would have loved you anyway and called you his pirate princess. but there’s no way you could fully appreciate his beauty with one eye!

-        when he absentmindedly tosses you a water bottle for the first time and you fumble it accidentally soaking your outfit he gives you his signature jacket and apologizes so much you eventually decide to shut him up and the resulting flustered red faced zen truly is a beautiful sight

-        he wants to protect you as much as possible but he’s so used to his own grace and athleticism that he forgets you may struggle a bit more

-        - still he thinks you’re the cutest person in the whole world and may even think your clumsiness makes you even cuter!

Jaehee

-        when you barely managed to catch yourself but not the tray of dirty dishes you were carrying she rushed to make sure you weren’t hurt looking over your hands for cuts from the glass you were scrambling to clean she scolded you for not waiting for her to bring the broom

-        when you give yourself a pretty nasty burn while frosting a cake she physically pulled you to the sink to run your burn under cool water. after about a week patching you up she sneaks off to take a legitimate first aide course she wants to do everything by the book perfect when she’s taking care of you.

-        the valentine’s day dlc where y’all get locked in the storage room. yeah you accidentally broke that lock several times simply because of how often you tumble into it while trying to juggle boxes.

-        she adores how hard you work to make sure you don’t spill drinks or mess up cake decorations

-        she’s so confused by how you can have such a steady decorating hand and such shaky balance

-        whenever you’re feeling down about messing up something at the cafe because of your clumsiness she kisses your cheek and reminds you that you’re an amazing cook and the only one that can make those cookies that sell out within minutes (it’s a family recipe that you plan to teach her next valentine’s day)

Saeran

-        when you fell down the hill in the park he dropped the picnic basket to try and save you thankfully the food was only a little jostled and you were only a little scraped up. he still insisted and cleaning and bandaging your scrapes with the little kit he keeps with him (you’d be insulted but it’s come in handy more times than you’d like to admit)

-        when you fall into the rose bush in his garden he completely panics he’s afraid you’ll blame him for how hurt you got because OUCH! you assure him you aren’t angry but you would like some help with all the cuts pricks and thorns. after that he looks into roses without thorns and starts replanting you feel a little guilty until you see how excited he is to plant all the different type of thornless roses he’s found

-        when a stranger bumps you accidentally and you lose your balance tumbling down the stairs Saeyoung has to physically restrain him until he hears you sobbing and comes to his senses he rushes you to the doctor and waits anxiously while you get a cast. he swears he’s not crying but there’s a definite wetness to his eyes when he hugs you gently and promises he won’t ever let something that awful happen ever again

-        he’s pretty hyper vigilant simply because of his past but the longer you and he are together the more he turns the focus of his hyper vigilance from “don’t upset anyone because abuse” towards “potential trip hazard protect MC”

-        there’s not a soul out there that’s as gentle as he is when he’s trying to treat you. he’s mostly self-taught and it’s a lot of home remedies but the actually help a lot

[junie-bugg]

Prospects and Propriety - Chapter Two

Summary: Everlark Jane Austen AU

Katniss Everdeen and her younger sister Prim are the adopted daughters of Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, a wealthy man with no biological heirs. By the rules of Panem society, an older sibling must be married before the younger can wed. In a time when women have no means of making their own living, marriage is the only way for Katniss to save her sister from destitution and set her up for a happy marriage of her own. Katniss sets her sights on Mr. Gale Hawthorne, a wealthy man who just moved to Whitley and who seems to have his eye on her. But what of the poor baker’s boy who once took a beating to save her life?

Read here on Tumblr or on my AO3 account: izzacrosswriting

Warning: I do plan on this series getting a lil smutty. There will be graphic depictions of violence, sex, and possibly death. I’m still working everything out:)

Nature ambiance(s):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UZ9uyQI3pF0&t=1694s

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUjUhZ1Yy7Y

Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQbx-OkfN-M

(If you want to listen to this song on Spotify it's called Symphony No.5 in C Sharp Minor: 4. Adagietto (Sehr Iangsam))

Word Count: 3125

Chapter Two

Prim and I have the next day off of lessons. We’ve been homeschooled ever since we came to live with Haymitch, but the weekends are saved purely for whatever we see fit to fill them with. For me, that’s mostly hunting and being out in the woods, unless the weather is bad, and sometimes not even then. 

If I decide to stay at home I usually lounge around with a book and see what Prim is up to. It’s mostly knitting, dress-up, or playing with the ugly cat Haymitch let her keep a few years back. Prim named him Buttercup, claiming that his matted, ruddy coat matched the bright yellow of the flowers she so adored. I had wanted to drown the thing in a bucket when we caught him stealing scraps from the kitchen, but Haymitch had laughed, even picked the thing up by the scruff of his neck and shook him around. 

“Look at this little guy, sweetheart. He’s a survivor. We can’t kill him!” He had placed the dirty, mewling kitten into Prim’s arms and the thing had hissed at me. I was worried he’d give Prim some kind of disease but he never did. I don’t feel gratitude towards him though. Only suspicion. It could still happen. 

When I want to be alone I go to my greenhouse. Really it’s Prim’s and my greenhouse, but ever since she found maggots in the compost pile nearly two years ago, she hasn’t stepped foot in there.  The greenhouse is small, maybe a third the size of my bedroom, but it’s peaceful. Especially when it storms and I can hear every hollow beat of the raindrops on its glass roof. It’s situated on the edge of the grounds by the tree line that morphs into the large forested hill behind Victor Greene, Haymitch’s estate. Over the years I’ve planted herbs and flowers and medicinal plants I’ve found on my journeys into the woods. The plants do well here in the rows of dark soil I’ve fortified with compost and fertilizer. The whole place smells of earthy rot and there’s something about how sunlight scatters lazily through the frosted windows that calms me. There’s a nook on the far side of the greenhouse, past all the plants, where I’ve scattered some quilts and pillows on a wide triangular window ledge. It’s a perfect place to read or sleep. Or sing. 

This is the only place where I let myself sing. I don’t even do it in the woods, always afraid someone else taking a stroll will hear me or that I’ll scare away game. Ever since Prim and I were placed under Haymitch’s care, really ever since our dad died, I refuse to sing in front of others. Maybe it’s because I’m shy and I don’t like people listening to my voice swelling and breaking on the high notes. Or maybe I’m lying to myself and I don’t sing in front of others because it’s too painful to remember a time when my life was filled with music. Mountain aires and lullabies and love songs, all sung by my father. I guess I don’t like breaking apart when there’s an audience. But when I’m alone I can shatter beneath the notes for a time, before I’m needed back up at the house. 

Today, however, instead of knitting or playing hide and seek in the gardens, Prim has informed me she wants to walk to the village. “You need new ribbons for the ball!” She squeaks as I button up her light pink dress from behind. We have servants available who help us dress or bathe or brush our hair but I always like helping Prim myself. She looks like a tiny little princess with her frilly dress and her curls pulled back with a pearl white ribbon. In contrast, I look plain in a forest green frock and my light brown shawl. 

“I told you, Prim. I’m not going.” I struggle with the last button. Prim has been going through a growth spurt and soon she’ll be too big for this dress. I feel sad, watching my little sister growing up so fast. 

“I heard Mrs. Winthrop and Ms. Trinket talking and they said you had to go,” She’s grinning so hard I can see the slight gap between her two front teeth. “Because Mr. Hawthorne is going to be there.” 

Ah, yes. My supposed husband-to-be. So even Prim has heard about Ms. Trinkets’ ridiculous arrangements. A man with that much money has his pick of the litter when it comes to choosing brides. I’m not ugly, but I’m no exquisite beauty either. Not like some of the girls I see around Whitley. I have no fortune of my own, really no status either besides being Haymitch’s ward and that will go up in smoke the second he dies. Most likely Mr. Hawthorne will look right through me and move on. But the news that I’m being forced to attend the public ball worries me. The whole village will be there. Including him. The baker’s boy. 

Maybe some new ribbons aren’t such a bad idea. 

We turn down an offer for the carriage and instead walk along the main road into Whitley. My boots have barely brushed the cobblestone sidewalks when Prim is dragging me into the seamstresses’ shop. The dressmaker, Cinna Ludgate, and the tailor, I think her name is Portia Peever, both turn to welcome us. Prim tells Mr. Ludgate about my need for new ribbons and in a flash he pulls down the display from the ceiling, winking at me as he walks back to the counter. 

There are so many to choose from. Streams of all colors flutter between my outstretched fingertips like butterfly’s wings. I see ribbons of frilly lace, satin, velvet, and even silk. My eyes land on a simple, white cloth ribbon with a delicate embroidered lavender pattern. I hold it up for Prim’s inspection and she declares I have to buy two in case I manage to get one dirty before the ball. 

I’ve just handed Mrs. Peever the money for the ribbons when the bell over the door rings. In walks Ms. Delly Cartright, one of Prim’s closest friends, and her older sister, Ms. Marianne Cartright. Their father is the village shoemaker, so they’re well known and well-liked by almost everybody. Delly is Prim’s age which gives them plenty to talk about. Prim grabs a hold of Delly and begins showing her the latest shipment of buttons Mr. Ludgate has displayed. 

Marianne is one year younger than me but we’ve never exchanged more than simple pleasantries. I dread small talk but from my personal experience, a trip into town wouldn’t be deemed official without at least one awkward encounter. 

“Are you coming to the ball, Ms. Everdeen? You missed the last one,” Marianne asks. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with big, blue doe eyes and a pouty mouth. Her nose is small and her figure slender. She is what they call a “country belle” in Town. I know at least five love songs written about girls like her. I expect in a few years Prim will grow to be one herself. 

“The dancing was splendid. I do hope you’re coming next week,” She continues.

I hold up my ribbons in response. “My tutor Ms. Trinket won’t let me miss it.” I force my mouth into a smile. 

“Oh,” Marianne’s eyes have settled on my ribbons. They’re probably a tad dull for her taste seeing as there were velvets and silks to choose from, but I like the simple flower design. The white cloth paired with the purple and green thread looks pretty. “Well, as my darling mother always says: simple never goes out of style.” She smiles up at me but the warmth doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “My sister and I are here for my dress fitting. I can’t wait to show everyone what Mr. Ludgate made me for the ball. It’s a custom piece!” She practically squeals. I nod and bid her goodbye, waving Prim over so we can leave. I breathe a sigh of relief as we exit the shop. I hate girl talk. 

With our main objective for coming to Whitley carried out, my feet automatically turn towards home, but Prim has other ideas. “Can we look at the cakes, Katniss?” She begs. She’s like a little puppy. I can’t refuse, though I grow more anxious with every step closer to the bakery we get. 

I know what this is. A look at the cakes in the window leads to Prim asking to go inside. It’s happened before and I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him. He works alongside his parents and two older brothers anyway. What are the chances that he’ll be manning the counter and not the ovens in the back? 

Prim pulls me through the bakery doors and runs to press her face against the display case. I hear a call of “I’ll be right there!” from the back, followed by a grunt and the shuffling of boxes. I join Prim and am just starting to admire the selection of pastries when I hear a quiet gasp and look up. 

It's him. The baker’s youngest son. I don't know him by name but I remember him. Of course, I remember him. I can almost feel the icy sheets of rain and the hollow numbness of hunger from that horrible day as I meet his gaze. 

Our father had died three months earlier. He had been a poor wheat farmer but the income from the harvest was enough to support a small household. My mother traded plants and home remedies to supplement what our empty pockets couldn’t buy. One winter, my father had been kicked in the head by his horse. My mother did everything she could but even as young as I was, I knew he had died before he hit the ground. After that my mother stopped eating. She just sat in bed and stared at the walls while her children turned to skin and bone. I did everything to try and rouse her but it was no use. With our father dead so too was her will to live. 

At eleven I became the sole provider of the family. I ventured into town alone to sell that damn horse, some old jewelry, and even dresses of my mother’s from her merchant days, but the money ran out quickly and there was more to buy than food. Our hearth sat cold, unused, and wanting of wood, and we resorted to rubbing ourselves raw to keep warm. We stopped attending school in the village, afraid that a teacher would see how hollow we were becoming and would whisk us away to the orphanage. I had seen orphans in the schoolyard, their faces empty and their shoulders slumped in defeat. I would never let that happen to Prim. 

We had eaten nothing but dried mint leaves in water for three days before I decided to try selling some of Prim’s old baby clothes in town. The clothes were threadbare and faded so nobody had wanted them. My arms were shaking so violently from cold and malnourishment that I ended up dropping them in a puddle. I decided to leave them there, afraid that if I bent over I wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

I found myself stumbling around behind a row of brick buildings. The rain had started and I was soaked to the bone. The smell of baking bread carried over the frigid air and I realized I was behind the bakery. The back door was open and I stood, trancelike, basking in the warm glow of the ovens before a thought floated through my foggy head. Maybe they had food scraps in their trash. A crust of bread or rotting vegetables, something only my family was desperate enough to eat. I lifted the tops off of the bins and my hopes died when I saw that their insides were heartbreakingly bare. 

Suddenly, I heard a woman screeching. It was the baker’s wife. She spat remarks about how she was sick of people going through her trash bins and if I didn’t leave she would call law enforcement. As I dropped the lids and backed away I saw a boy peeking out from behind his mother’s skirts. I recognized him from school but we had never talked. 

With my final hope gone I slumped against a scrubby little apple tree in their yard. My knees buckled and I slipped down into the mud. I would rather die than go home empty-handed to Prim’s gaunt face and my mother’s sickly, unblinking eyes. 

I heard a commotion from the bakery and then the ring of metal on flesh. 

“Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature! No one decent will buy burnt bread!” The witch screeched. There was the boy again, come out the back door clutching two blackened loaves. A bright red mark shone on his cheek and my heart twisted when I realized his mother must have hit him. He looked between me and the pigpen, and then glanced back towards the door. His mother must have gone up to front to serve a customer because then I heard him sloshing his way through puddles to get to me. 

“Take them!” He urged, pressing the loaves into my skeletal hands. “Take them! Go!” As quickly as he came he was gone, back into the kitchens. I watched him disappear. As he closed the door only then did I realize what he had done for me. 

Two loaves of bread! And they weren’t even that burned, really only the crusts had been damaged. I quickly pressed them to the skin under my shirt and hurried home. The searing heat from the loaves roused something within me. I couldn’t die. Not when I had Prim to take care of.

I dropped the loaves on the table and stopped my sister from savagely tearing a chunk off for herself. I sat her down, forced our mother to join us, and then began scraping off the blackened bits. That night we feasted on two slices of bread each, afraid so much food might make us sick. The loaves were hearty, filled with nuts and bits of cranberry. I had never tasted anything so good in my entire life. 

 As I predicted, it was a teacher that found out about our situation. Upon our absence at school, she had come looking for us and found Prim and I living in squalor with a mother that was too sick to care. I thought that was it, that we were to be sent to the orphanage now and our mother taken away to an institution. But a man by the name of Haymitch Abernathy, wealthy and lacking a family of his own, intervened. He had heard of our misfortunes from hushed gossip around the village and had petitioned to adopt us. Our mother was eventually sent to an institution by the sea and we’ve lived with Haymitch, fed and clothed and taken care of, ever since. 

The baker’s boy saved our lives that day. Surely I would have given up and died under that apple tree if it wasn’t for the kindness he showed me. I owe him everything. And because of that, I will never be able to pay him back. 

I take him in now. He's taller than he was before. Much taller. His chubby child’s build has been replaced with an imposing stature that takes up almost the entire doorway. I guess a lifetime of hefting bakery pans and kneading dough has left him broad-shouldered and muscular. 

“Katniss,” he says. I can tell he’s surprised to see me. His voice is deep and I note that his blonde hair curls with sweat. There’s a streak of flour on his cheek and an apron tied around his waist.

“It’s Ms. Everdeen,” I correct him. It’s out before I can stop myself and as soon as I say it I want to bite my own tongue off. How pretentious I must sound. It's only after Prim has begun ordering a sugar-dusted fruit tart from the case that I realize with a start that the baker's boy knows my name. 

His face is flushed and pink when he turns his eyes to me. 

“I'll take four of those cookies,” I get out. “The orange lilies.” My voice sounds weaker than normal. I hate this. I feel fragile under this boy’s gaze. And that's when I realize: he must be waiting for his thank you. For the bread that he burned and took a beating for. But I can't do it, either because Prim is with me and it would confuse her and probably embarrass the boy, or because it's been five years and the time for ‘thank you’ is over. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he doesn't remember. He probably only knows my name because it was a source of gossip around town when Haymitch adopted Prim and I. He must remember me from then. 

He gives me a timid smile, deftly wraps the cookies in parchment paper, ties them securely with a piece of fringed twine, and hands the package to me. I suddenly feel the need to fill the silence so I blurt: “They’re beautiful. The cookies.” 

He manages to turn a shade pinker. “Thank you, I do most of the frosting around here. I made those this morning.” As I hand him the money for the treats, I assume that's it. That was the end of our conversation. But my tongue is moving again. 

“They look just like the lilies in the woods. I see them on my morning walks.” 

“Yes, exactly,” He grins and reveals a charming set of dimples. “I’ve seen them when I go to the woods to paint.” 

I don't know what else to say and Prim has started tugging on my hand. She’s probably anxious to get home so we can enjoy our treats with tea, so I give him one last look and utter one last thank you before heading back out into the crowded square. 

“Do you know him?” Prim asks as we begin walking towards home. 

“No,” I say, a little relieved to be leaving. I can't catch my breath and my heart is racing like it does when something frightens me. “I don't even know his name.”

“Well, I've never seen you be that talkative with a stranger.” She beams. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Winthrop!” 

Is that what he is to me? A stranger? I shake the thought from my head.

He knew my name. The very least I can do is learn his. 

[arcanaheadcanons]

the arcana modern-day red plague = zombie apocalypse au

tbh this happened when i woke up in the middle of the night, typed some notes on my phone, and immediately passed back out, but let’s see where this goes

SURVIVAL TEAM 1: EXTREME CAMPING

YOU

-three years ago, a little after the red plague outbreak in vesuvia, you got bit and instead of zombifying you lost your memories

-apparently you developed an immunity

-through asra’s help and all of the textbooks in your house (you think you were a doctor?) you are now some kind of field medic, and a pretty darn good one for being self-taught

ASRA

-the modern equivalent of the magician: the macgyver

-he’s too gay for math but because both of his parents were inventors he has learned the ability to bs almost any kind of gadget with enough parts

-julian fusses over asra’s designs and chides him for being inefficient and honestly has no idea how he got them to work

-however, gadgetry is not one of asra’s actual hobbies, so he keeps it to a minimum

-there are some truly inventive traps on your home turf but instead of making more of those he spends his time on arts and crafts

MURIEL

-is pretty much the same (a self-sufficient hermit living off the grid)

-asra dragged you to his... house?... after everything went wrong

-muriel wasn’t happy with this decision but over the past few years he’s gotten over it

-still barely talks to you but he isn’t as much of a nervous wreck as when you met him

-his homesteading skills are probably the only reason the three of you are still alive

SURVIVAL TEAM 2: THE DEVORAK HOUSEHOLD

JULIAN

-a Real Doctor!!! also, a previous coworker of yours

-when the plague hit, he was at the hospital and you weren’t, which is how you got separated

-it’s taken him this long to get his act back together but now he’s looking for you and asra

NADIA

-was in the hospital with a pretty bad case of coma

-woke up when the hospital was attacked and ended up following julian out of that mess

-is this group’s strategist but she quietly feels like she’s in over her head

-her current goal is to investigate the rumors that her ex-husband is still alive

PORTIA

-has been doing an excellent job maintaining their base (a farm they commandeered)

-gardens, takes care of the animals, patches the fence, and patrols

-wields a baseball bat with nails in it but she’s looking for something more suitable for her

MAZELINKA

-a retired ship’s-captain-slash-herbalist who may have been a smuggler and may still be shady af

-has physically dragged julian out of more zombie-related situations than she can count

-julian is the injury doctor, but mazelinka is the illness doctor

-sure julian can prescribe the medicine they’ve scavenged but if old-school herbal remedies will do the trick then there’s no need to deplete their medicinal supplies (pills are hard to come by these days)

SURVIVAL “GROUP” 3: ONE LONE CRAZY MAN

LUCIO

-previously the ruler of vesuvia (mayor? governor? king? prime minister? what exactly is vesuvia anyway? i’m guessing it’s a city-state but the game never actually says it)

-was clearly seen being eaten by zombies on live tv but he appears to still be out and about

-he’s undead but in full possession of his faculties and has been running around in a cloak killing zombies with a sword like the outrageously extra person he is

SURVIVAL GROUP 4: THE COURTIERS

-these five idiots were in the district court when tragedy struck and they somehow banded together

-it’s a wonder they’re still alive

-judge vlastomil, police chief vulgora, courthouse clerk volta, and prosecutor valerius were working at the time

-valdemar was on trial for medical malpractice

-vlastomil, vulgora, and volta have elected that the group search for lucio in order for him to lead them because they were comfortably used to him telling them what to do all the time

-valdemar is also interested in searching for lucio

-this is of course because they want to cut him open and poke around

-valerius is temporary group leader

-he doesn’t really want to find lucio but he’s going along with it to placate the others

-he is trying his best to deal with the other courtiers (which is not unlike herding cats) so no one dies but honestly death is starting to look preferable

BONUS GROUPS

-the satrinava family has made it their goal to reunite with nadia (it’s taking a while because they’re traveling on foot from prakra)

-the palace government staff (bludmila and ludovico, babouche and hestion, rosmerta, the chamberlain, etc) have formed a ragtag team of their own, and you occasionally bump into them when scavenging in the city

[bytheangell]

Acting on Instinct

(Read on AO3) Square Filled: Portals for @shadowhunterbingo Pairing: Ragnor Fell/Raphael Santiago Rating: Teen and Up  – Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary:   When Ragnor finds himself injured and at the end of his magic reserves, he opens a portal to somewhere safe, someone he can trust. He isn't surprised to find himself waking up at Raphael's.  -------------

Ragnor curses himself for not bringing Magnus or Catarina along with him as he stares down more demons than he can possibly fight off on his own. He certainly regrets not telling anyone where he was going. It was a foolish move, one bred from his overconfidence and determination to pay back a debt owed to an old friend on his own, without having to call on any favors of his own to help.

It should’ve been simple enough for him to handle, in his defense.

The demon infestation his old friend, a warlock named Bartholomew Locke wrote him about wasn’t a large one, but it was a temperamental one: there were some very specifically spelled weapons and potions with ingredients Ragnor was intimately familiar with after studying them in years past, making him uniquely positioned to deal with this particular problem the most efficiently. If the reports he got were accurate, what he arrived with would’ve been more than enough to handle the situation and save Locke and the surrounding village some strife.

Unfortunately, Locke only knew of one small concentration of the demons plaguing his village. And when Ragnor went to take care of them, the rest of the nest came in droves. And now here he stands, expelling more magic than he built up reserves to use, in an attempt to keep poisoned talons at bay. It’s easily enough work for three, maybe four, warlocks to handle as a team, but he’s entirely alone and his strength is fading by the second.

Perhaps he should be a little more careful with what he agrees to take on in the future.

If he has a future.

There are several moments during the fight that Ragnor considers opening a portal and leaving, but several things stop him. If he leaves now, with the demons active and riled up, he’s practically begging for them to take that rage out on the nearby village, and if Locke thought he could handle this then he would’ve already. And if Ragnor backtracks there himself the demons are going to follow his scent, and he’ll definitely be leading them right to easy prey. If one of the women or children there got so much as a scratch because of his own failure he’d never forgive himself.

So he stayed, and he fought until it was all he could do to prop himself against a nearby tree and wait for them to attack him, getting close enough for him to fight back with minimal exertion. It was a slow, arduous process, and the last of the demons got in a few good swipes that tore through his shirt and pants. Ragnor could feel the stiffness that precedes paralysis start to set in as he slices a spelled blade through the very last of the demons.

He wants to collapse in relief now that it’s over but he knows once he does he won’t be able to stand back up again. Instead, he focuses on getting to help, to someone he trusts. Ragnor isn’t sure he’s going to have enough magic left to open a portal, and after one failed attempt that flickers and fades he manages to open one and keep it open just long enough to stumble through before it closes behind him, and everything goes black.

---

“I can’t believe you showed up on my doorstep to die.”

Hardly the most comforting first words to hear upon waking up, but they bring a small, weak smile to his face just the same. He recognizes that exasperated voice as belonging to one Raphael Santiago - and if the fact that he wakes up at all after the shape he was in isn’t enough to tell him he’s going to be okay then knowing he’s with Raphael is all the further reassurance he needs.

“I didn’t, did I?” Ragnor counters, acutely aware as he tries to speak that even breathing hurts and every muscle in his body aches. “‘Knew you’d save me.”

Raphael only shakes his head, pacing back and forth in front of the bed Ragnor finds himself resting in, covers pulled up to his chin and carefully tucked-in under his sides.

“Why?” Raphael asks suddenly.

“Why… did I know you’d save me?” Ragnor asks, not sure he understands. It could be the haze he’s still waking up from as the antidote makes its way through his system. He likes to think he hasn’t misread his relationship with Raphael enough to think the vampire wouldn’t save him, considering… well, considering. They haven’t specifically talked about it yet but the two of them are spending more and more time together lately, and Ragnor thinks there’s something there. He hopes there is.

“Why did you come here?” Raphael rephrases. “Why not go to Cat... or even Magnus? Why me?”

Ragnor doesn’t answer right away. He isn’t sure he has an answer, not one that Raphael is going to believe, but he supposes he owes it to both of them to try anyway.

“I didn’t specifically think of you,” Ragnor admits. “I just remember thinking… I knew that I needed somewhere safe, with someone I trusted with my life. And then I was here.”

He lets the implication of that sink in. Raphael is his safe place - not just a source of comfort and understanding, but someone Ragnor fully trusts to protect him in the vulnerable state he arrived in. They both know that Catarina and Magnus both fall into those categories but they weren’t where his subconscious instincts took him.

Raphael’s confusion fades to a soft, almost flustered expression. “I-” Raphael starts, but stops before he says more than the single syllable, and Ragnor wonders if admitting all of that was a mistake. Maybe he was wildly off-base to think the vampire had similar feelings.

“You’re those things for me, too,” Raphael finally continues, clearing his throat, and Ragnor’s heart feels lighter than it has in years.

“Now go back to sleep. You’re still weak. I got enough of the antidote in you so you didn’t die, but the worst of it is still clearing out of your system.”

The antidote… but Ragnor didn’t have any left when he came through the portal. He looks around the room and spots a small pewter pot in the corner of the room where, he has to assume, Raphael had made another batch of the antidote Ragnor had on him to give to Locke from scratch.

A small twitch of a smirk crosses Ragnor’s lips. “You were watching me work,” Ragnor teases. It’s become a frequent habit for the two of them to meet up a few times a week, often for Ragnor to take Raphael someplace he hasn’t been before but always wanted to see, even if it’s just for an hour or so. Last night Ragnor tried to cancel in favor of preparing for his little demon-killing excursion, but instead, Raphael insisted on simply coming over to keep him company while he worked. Except for every time Ragnor thought he caught Raphael staring while he worked Raphael swore up and down that he wasn’t.

Not only was Raphael watching, but he was watching close enough to notice which ingredients Ragnor had been using and what he made with them.

“Maybe I was,” Raphael admits. “But you don’t get all the credit - I was practically raised by Magnus, you know. You don’t spend that much time with a warlock without picking up a thing or two about magical remedies, especially when said warlock isn’t the best at healing magic.”

Ragnor can’t help the bark of a laugh that escapes him at that backhanded compliment about Magnus’ teaching skills, but the laugh quickly turns to a cough which leaves his entire body shaking from the effort. Raphael is at his side before he can process the movement, a hand placed gently on his chest to keep him still.

“Are you alright?” Raphael asks, and now there’s no masking the concern.

“Fine. Sorry,” Ragnor says the moment he can speak again. He doesn’t want to make Raphael worry though he knows it’s a bit too late for that.

“I can stay…” Raphael offers. “Just until you fall asleep?”

“You don’t have to-” Ragnor starts, adding quickly after watching the way Raphael’s face drops in disappointment for just a moment before he covers it. “But it would be nice if you did.”

Ragnor tells himself he wants Raphael to stay just in case something goes wrong or he takes a sudden turn for the worse, but he knows that’s a lie - he can at least admit to himself that he wants Raphael as close as possible as often as possible. He just doesn’t want Raphael to stay out of a sense of obligation because Ragnor decided to throw himself onto his doorstep. Raphael didn’t ask for this responsibility, after all, no matter how close they’ve grown lately.

Ragnor figures Raphael will take the chair near the bed to watch over him, but when Raphael toes off his dress shoes and slides into the bed beside him, an arm moving to wrap carefully around his chest, Ragnor melts against the unexpected touch. They don’t talk, they don’t have to. It’s just enough to be present together, and it’s perfect.

Despite the aches lingering throughout most of his body, Ragnor sleeps better than he has in decades.

---

When he wakes up in the morning he expects Raphael to be gone and finds himself surprised to feel that comforting weight draped over him still.

“How do you feel?” Raphael asks the second Ragnor stirs.

“Better than I have in a long time,” Ragnor admits. He wonders if Raphael knows he isn’t just talking about the antidote. “A guy could get used to waking up like this,” he adds coyly.

“Mmm, don’t get too comfortable, Fell,” Raphael replies, but with a tone of gentle teasing.

“Perhaps I should nearly die more often,” Ragnor muses. He’s obviously joking but he can feel Raphael tense behind him at the mere suggestion.

“Don’t you dare,” Raphael chastises immediately. “Perhaps…” Raphael starts again but hesitates before falling silent again.

“What is it?” Ragnor prompts, cringing a bit as he shifts in the bed so that he’s laying on his other side, facing Raphael.

“I was wondering if you’d like to do this again sometime, but without the near-death experience preceding it. Maybe… dinner, instead.”

Ragnor smiles. “Raphael, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Not if you’re going to be a cabrón about it,” Raphael mutters, and Ragnor only smiles wider.

“Dinner sounds perfect,” Ragnor agrees quickly before Raphael can take the offer back, not that he thinks he actually would. He doesn’t point out that Ragnor is the only one of them that actually eats.

“Good.” And then, after only the briefest of pauses, Raphael shifts ever so slightly so he can lean in far enough to place a quick kiss on his forehead before quickly turning to get out of bed. “I have some things to take care of quickly, but I’ll be back to check in on you, and I’ll bring breakfast.”

Ragnor hums his agreement of that plan as Raphael leaves, still smiling to himself. He knows if it weren’t Raphael he could have Magnus or Catarina looking after him, but this is different. This is better, in little ways he tries not to let himself dwell over too much this early on.

Except yes, Ragnor thinks with overwhelming certainty, he can definitely get used to this.

[voemae582]

The Truth Changes

Chapter 4: Is Blue Warm or Cold?

Let it be known, I wrote this chapter before I watched reflectdoll and Desperado. And I'm so angry with how Marinette and Adrien acted, but most importantly the writers... Enjoy. Also I post the story on my Fanfiction.net page under Voemae Patterson and on Wattpad under Tia_Patterson!

Meanwhile Chat Noir made his way across town and hid in an alley way to transform back. Plagg flew out of his ring in a panic.

"Plagg calm down, we need think of a plan, maybe she was bluffing and Ladybug is fine."

Plagg shook his head, "Kid this is serious, I can honestly tell you, she was telling the truth. We need to find Master. I have a feeling Tikki's with him, which is good."

"Tikki?" Adrien asked.

"No time to explain, lets go!" Plagg flew in the direction of Master Fu's massage place with Adrien close behind him.

They took back streets and alleys to avoid any Marionettes in the area. It didn't take long before they finally reached their destination and took cover inside where they were greeting by Wayzz. They entered the massage room to find Master Fu and Tikki talking. Adrien saw the polka doted Kwami and put two and two together. It was Ladybugs Kwami. 

"Tikki!" Plagg shouted and he wasted no time flying to her side. "What happened?"

Master Fu put his attention to Adrien who was still confused. Where was Ladybug? Why didn't she have her kwami? "Adrien, come and sit."

"Master Fu, Marinette, she's the girl akumatized. She's my friend."

He nodded. "Yes, well without Ladybug we're in quite the predicament."

Adrien clenched her fists and grit his teeth, "Please entrust me with saving them both."

"Everyone whos fought alongside you has been turned into a puppet." He stroked his little beard and turned his head away from Adrien and whispered, "She must've done that on purpose."

"What?"

"It's nothing." He waved his hand to signal there was nothing to worry about.

Tikki, Plagg and Wayzz sat at the middle of the table. "Oh Master, it's not her fault! We must save her from being a puppet." Tikki chose her words carefully as to not reveal Marinette was Ladybug.

"I understand the situation. Ladybug knew she would be caught, and purposely took out her earrings to prevent Hawkmoth from finding her using the connection between the akumatized." He pondered for a moment and the room fell silent with thinking. "But," He broke the silence. "I can not ignore the fact that she did fall into this situation."

"Master?" Wayzz questioned.

"Don't worry, I chose her for a reason, that being said I have to wonder what she'll do. Or if she can snap out of it."

"I know she will." Adrien stood up. "Because she's Ladybug." They all looked up at him as he radiated the confidence he lacked a moment ago. "I'll focus on snapping Marinette out of it, try and find the item that's been akumatized then free her. But, Chat Noir can't catch the akuma, or fix what's been destroyed. Master Fu, please let me use the Ladybug miraculous."

Fu stood and turned to get more tea, "Absolutely not. It's far too risky."

"But-!"

"But this may be our only sound option right now. As for the cat miraculous, you cant use both at the same time. And I don't feel good having both miraculous near each other while you're fighting. I suppose I could also-" Just then a crack echoed in the room. His age was catching up to him and he cracked his back... As always Wayzz was worried for the master and helped him sit back down with the tea. "We almost lost the Bee miraculous once, we can't afford making these same mistakes." He shook his head, he knew he wouldn't be much help, but he couldn't do it alone. "We need to move location, she might come here."

"Why would she come here?" Adrien asked. The Kwami's looked at Fu to make an excuse.

Fu cleared his throat. "Your friend Marinette, yes, um she, she's been in my shop before, to get a muscle relaxer!" Not his best moment but he was going to roll with it. "You know how kids are these days, stressed about school and such. So I gave her an old Chinese remedy to help her out... Of course she still seems a bit clumsy..."

Adrien chuckled at the last comment. "No, that's just her."

Fu saw his sincere smile as he thought about her. "I see.." He smiled. "Well, lets move location of the box carefully first, then get a plan started."

"I've got an idea." And so it was decided where the box would be moved to...

Half an hour later after mast Fu settled Adrien transformed back into Chat Noir. "Until we figure this out, I'll go and patrol the surrounding area. I need to help those who have not been caught."

"What ever you do, don't go looking for her." He warned him.

"Which one?" He joked before leaving the building.

Master Fu saw as his Chat Noir figure jumped over a building. "The only one."

"Oh master... What should we do?" Tikki hovered next to him looking out the window.

"Where there's a will, there's a way." he sighed. "For all our sakes, we can only wait and see if she has a stronger will then the darkness in her heart."

About twenty minutes past and Chat Noir saved a few hand fills of civilians and hid them from the akuma. He made sure to stay low and out of sight trying not to cause a scene. All the while he was trying to think of a plan. He was alone, without his Lady. He was worried, but he didn't know for who more. Marinette or Ladybug?

It was already night and the stars were bright. a lot of the city lights were off because there were people hiding. For the most part if Porcelain had no need for them, the marionettes had free will to go home or do anything they wanted as long as the didn't rebel they could live a normal life as a porcelain doll. Until she needed them that is, and took control of their body's again. The brightest lights were the Eiffel tower, which is where Chat Noir assumed Marinette was based. The day had been the longest time anyone has ever been under an akuma's affects and trance before. 

No one knew what was supposed to happen next. Where was Ladybug, the hero of Paris? The Parisians began to worry. Every time that day Chat was asked where she was or heard a rumor of her disappearance he quickly retorted it stating she was well and they were just thinking of a plan.

He returned to his mansion per master Fu's request for the night. Adrien wanted eagerly to go and try talking to Marinette but was stopped every time by Plagg. He agonized over the thought of pain and suffering she was feeling, alone. Plus he was scared sooner or later Ladybug would break, not that she would ever lie.

Checking on his father was impossible since the Gorilla stood outside his bedroom room and Natalie probably wouldn't let him into the office. Little did he know his father was better then okay. Because he had finally found a suitable victim to capture all the miraculous.

In his lair Hawkmoth reveled in the army before him. "Your progress is taking much longer then I expected, but you told the truth, Ladybug hasn't shown her face yet. Meaning you did capture her, and Chat Noir's the only one left. He is the only one left, right?"

Far from the Agreste Manor, sitting at the very top of the Eiffel tower looking at the night sky above her was Porcelain. "Yes, I assume he'll be no trouble. And before you ask again, I do not know where to find the guardian of the box." She technically wasn't lying, she didn't know where master Fu could be, its not 100% certain he'll be at his home. She knew how to manipulate her powers so she wouldn't crack.

Suddenly she felt a pain and all her muscles stiffened making her feel weak. "If you're lying to me I will take away your victory!" Hawkmoth threatened her.

"Why- argh!" She struggled to talk with the pressure he forced on her. "-would I-ugh, why would I lie to you!?" He finally released her letting her gasp for air.

"If I find out you were lying to me or are plotting something, not only will I take everything away from you, but I'll get a professional to do it instead." He chuckled. "You might know her. She tends to fib a bit."

If Porcelain wasn't wearing a mask you'd see the anger in her eyes and her teeth ready to break from clenching them to hold her tongue. "Lila." She hissed through her teeth.

"Correct. Instead of getting your revenge on her I'll replace you with her. So don't forget your end of the deal."

Marinette felt a stab in her heart. Even Hawkmoth preferred Lila. Why was she not good enough? "Why would you trust a liar like her?"

"Of course I don't trust her you fool, but she'll do her job. And who knows, after she does get me what I want perhaps she'll become even more adored with her lies then you'll ever be with the truth."

"Forget you! I'll get you what I promised by using my powers for their own good!" She stood up and yelled at the sky. "I can't concentrate with you nagging in my ear!"

"I'll check back later." Back in the lair Hawkmoth cut the communication with Porcelain. "Dark wings fall!" And turned back into his formal attire as Gabriel Agreste. "Natalie, I may need your assistance tomorrow." He turned around to face Natalie who held a clipboard to her chest never showing more then a poker face.

"Of course. I would be happy to, sir."

"Right, go get some rest, it'll take a toll on you tomorrow."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, I've had all nighters before doing work, but you should get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow. I'll watch over things for the night."

Back at the tower Porcelain looked over the Paris buildings to a small shop with it's lights still on. It was her parent's bakery. They were still up so late. She had the urge to go and visit them, but something stopped her. She was ashamed. 

"Damn it." She held her head in her hands and cursed at the world. It all seemed so unfair.

Last month she was adored by her friends and she adored them. Marinette was hanging out with everyone, and sure, once in awhile Lila would tell a lie, but she learned to ignore it. Over time she just left Lila alone and avoided her as long as it didn't affect anyone, but now, how did she end up like this. Her mind got foggy and her memories blurred together. She could only remember the bad parts.

Porcelain had forgotten the good inside of Marinette, and it scared her, not because she couldn't remember anything good, but because she didn't actually care. She couldn't even remember how her morning started. It had only been hours ago but she couldn't think of her parent's and their kind words. What she did remember was Lila. The lies. Alya ditching her in her time of need. Adrien's rejection. Her parent's pitying her. Ladybug.

Oh lord Ladybug. It was always Ladybug. Even Chat Noir prefers Ladybug. Adrien would probably prefer Ladybug. Alya would prefer Ladybug. Her parent's would be better off with a daughter like Ladybug.

Porcelain stopped gripping her skull with anger and let her arm frail onto her knee. She was Ladybug. But Ladybug wasn't her. No, she used to be Marinette. And Marinette is no Ladybug. Marinette's clumsy, a coward and a complete mess. Over a boy. A boy who didn't even like her. Or notice her. She was just a friend. She was a nobody. A wanna be fashion designer.

Marinette was always good at over thinking things, but Porcelain was the queen of over thinking.

A tear appeared from the dark hole of the mask where the eye should be and rolled down the porcelain surface. All her terrible negative feelings came crawling into her heart. Her chest hurt, it felt like something was pulling at her heart strings until they snapped. A punch in the gut. Her head ached and felt like it was on fire and going to explode. Water leaked from her eyes. She shook all over and couldn't breath. She was panicking. She hated this feeling of helplessness. This feeling of depression and anxiety. Eating at every nerve and cell in her body, until she snapped.

And she screamed.

A burst of red deflected from her like a ring of fire around her and widened until it disappeared into the night. She hunched and tried to calm herself. At this moment she knew she messed up. Hawkmoth had increased her emotions of betrayal before he went to bed leaving her to wallow in self loathing. She had no choice but to blame others.

Time had passed and she was walking around on the tower trying to control her emotions and also devising her plan while sewing a scarf together using the red thread she possessed. She had puppets guarding the castle.

"M'Lady." a Marionette approached her.

"Speak, but do not call me that." She ordered him still continuing to make the scarf.

"Several Marionettes whom are not under your control at the moment have asked for an audience with the great poupée de porcelaine."

"Very well."

A few moments later Nino, Rose, Juleka, Mylene, Ivan and even Luka appeared before her. They stood in front of her and She could tell by their faces what they wanted to say. This small group was made up of Kitty Section. The band Marinette designed for. Her closes friends other then Alya.

Nino was outwardly distraught making him the first to burst out his feelings. "How could you do that to Alya!"

Rose and Juleka stood on both sides of him and held his arms as if he would try to attack Porcelain. "This isn't what we practiced" Rose tried to calm him down.

Apparently practicing and deciding what they would tell her ahead of time was the plan to convince her to stop. Little did they know, the longer Marinette was under the Akuma's control the more she lost herself. It had already been too long for logic and reason to save her.

Ivan stepped forward and started first. "Marinette, we're sorry. All of us. We knew you didn't like Lila for some reason but we didn't take your feelings into consideration and hung out with her."

Porcelain's eye twitched in annoyance. "You think this is because I didn't want you guys to hangout with someone I don't like?"  She cracked her neck and continued. "True I despise Lila, and I didn't want anyone to hangout with her, but that's because she's a liar, and constantly tortures me, not because I just don't like her! Marinette wasn't so shallow she'd try to monopolize you guys!" She took the wooden controls from her side pockets and the thread connected to Nino and pulled him in front of her.

"Nino!"

Nino could still talk and looked her in the eyes. "I thought we were friends?"

Knowing Hawkmoth went to bed Porcelain got close to his ear so no one would hear her, and she whispered in Nino's ear, "Are you secretly Carapace?"

"H-how did you-?"

She asked more loudly so everyone could hear, "Are you? Answer the question!"

"N-No!" He gulped.

"Perfect." Porcelain watched his arm start cracking until it just shattered revealing a wooden surface. She let him go giving him free will.

Nino stepped backward away from her and tripped falling on his back. "AAARUGH!!" He yelled in pain. It felt like every bone in his body shattering even though it was just his arm. The pain continued for what seemed forever. He finally bit his tongue on the pain and sat up gripping his wooden left arm.

He had control of his body except for his left arm that was now wood. "What's happening!? I only told one lie! I shouldn't have shattered anything! It should just be a crack, right!?" He yelled at her confused and scared. The others ran to aid him.

"So you admit you lied to me." She started to walk in a circle around them and their eyes followed her every move.

"What's going on with his arm!?" Mylene spoke up.

She sighed, "True, a lie would usually only give you a crack, but, the bigger the lie, the more severe the injury." She winked. "Don't you wanna know what I asked him?" 

Luka stood up, "Marinette, this isn't you."

Again telling her who she was. People just couldn't take a hint. "My names Not Marinette!" She yelled and took control of them making them stand in a line. "It's poupée en porcelaine! Now leave before I decide to shatter you all." She demanded more then requested. With a point of the finger she forced them to walk out. 

"Wait!" Luka pleaded as his legs led him to the elevator. "Marinette! Please, wait, I just want to talk!"

She froze them for a second. The were in mid stepping pose facing the opposite direction of her. Staring at his back she asked, "If you stay here you'll be broken one way or the other. Are you willing To risk the damage?"

Juleka tried to look at her brother, "Luka, don't."

Luka had a soft smile on his face. "Sorry Jules, you'd do the same for Rose."

"Touching..." Porcelain mocked. "Your answer?"

"Yes. I'm okay with that." He spoke louder.

Porcelain walked up to him and examined him for any crack. He was telling the truth. She snapped her fingers and the rest of them walked to the elevator and left. She took away their speech temporarily so they wouldn't interfere until they left.

For the next minute they stood in silence just looking at each other. She wondered what he was looking at her for, what was he trying to find. She focused on his eyes. They were a clear blue, not like hers, his were deeper. Clear with no clutter. Why were his blue eyes so... Warm?

"Cold." He muttered.

Porcelain snapped out of her thoughts, "What?"

"I finally caught a glimpse of you're eyes behind the mask, when the light hits you just right, and they were cold."

She covered the eye he was focused on and turned her face slightly to hide her other. "Blue is cold."

He realized how rude that might've sounded. "No sorry." He scratched the back of his head and looked at the ground. "It's just that, your eyes are usually so warm."

For a second she thought he read her mind. Her eye brows furrowed and she made him stand up straight and look at her. "What nonsense are you spouting? Everyone knows blue is a cold, cold color."

He stood quietly and let her make her point. Studying her actions and moves. Trying to find an ounce of Marinette. He focused on her every detail. Her perfectly place hair in a bun with a red ribbon. The intricate detail on her dress. The carefully placed paint strokes on her mask and especially the way you can see her expression through her eyes.

"Do you ever dislike being in a band with your little sister, and her friends?"

Luka was caught off guard by the question. "What? No, of course not. I love my sister and her friends are mine too." No cracks, he was telling the truth.

"Really? You never feel childish being around them?"

"No they're awesome." He smiled knowing he had nothing to hide.

Porcelain grunted. "Do you even have friends outside of them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I see them all the time."

"Ever wish you lived in a house like normal people?"

"I love living in a boat."

The two of them went back and fourth for quite a while. Porcelain started to run out of questions. She asked petty things like fights with Juleka, or stealing candy when he was young. Despite his looks he wasn't really a 'bad boy'. He was sweet and kind and honest. She hated it.

"There's got to be something you don't want to admit to! So admit it!" She was getting frustrated. "There's got to be something you lie about. And I'm going to find out."

He went silent and thought about something. Porcelain noticed he was hiding something. She was about to confront him with more questions, but he beat her to the punch. "I never want to lie to the girl I like."

She taken  aback. "What? Who?"

"Marinette." He said confidently.

"You're a liar, no one likes a nobody." She wasn't convinced.

"I do." He breathed. "Because to me, she's not a nobody. She's-"

"Like an everyday Ladybug, nice, good, perfect and all that crap!" She turned around as to not face him.

"No." He replied. "Ladybug isn't perfect. I don't know her personally so I can't say much about her personality. But no ones perfect or good at everything. Especially Marinette."

She felt a tug at her heart and the corners of her lips weigh down.

"Marinette isn't perfect, she's clumsy, and stammers, and sometimes it's like she's always in her head."

"You've made your point-"

"But I love that about her. She might fall a lot, but that only means I get to catch her. Her stammering is the cutest thing I've ever heard. And to be able to look at her when she's lost in thought is the greatest privilege I can have." He smiled and you could hear the passion of his words. "She has all the qualities of a super hero, but that's just one part of her, she's also an amazing girl."

"Stop it." She gripped both her upper arms.

"Her designs are incredible! She works hard and deserve every good thing in her life. She apologizes even if she's not in the wrong. And she's honest to a fault, that makes her unique because now a days there's nobody that honest. She tries to help those in need. She messes up, but she she'll try again until everything's fixed."

"I said enough!" She turned around waved her hand violently and took his speech away. She stomped in front of him only three inches from his face. "These are all lies!" She aimed her sight down and he mouthed something to her. 'I love you'. 

She backed up and held her fists at her side. "Why aren't you breaking!?" She shouted almost pleading. For some reason she was running away from love. Perhaps she didn't deserve it. "Lie!" Her voice got shaky and she got close to him and he mouthed it again. she hit his chest with her palms and her forehead landed on his chest. "Lies! All of them!" While one hand hit him repeatedly, the other slowly reached for her mask and slid it off letting her take a deep shaky breath.

Without knowing she had let control of him go and felt his arms wrap around her. "I love you, Marinette." And she let his chin rest on her head. "You're the song playing in my head, and the rhythm my heart beats too." There they stood on the Eiffel tower, embraced in each others cold china hold, with the warmest blue eyes.

"No.." A whisper was barely heard.

"Did you-" Luka started say before being pushed away.

He caught a glance at her face without the mask, her sapphire eyes glossed over with denial, and there was a notable break under her left eye.

"Marinette wha-?"

"My. Names. Not. Marinette!" With a wave of her hand she made him leave, immediately. As soon as she could no longer see him she fell to her knees and hung her head. "Damn it..." The lights of the Eiffel tower then turned off as if on que.

The next day was sure to be chaotic.

[ohayohimawari]

The Genin Gaffe

Remember the Kakashi look-alike, Kumade Toriichi? Maybe you don’t, but I do, and he hasn’t been far from my imagination:

I discovered this unknown Konoha Dork last February and wrote a drabble about him titled, The Copy Ninja.

I decided it was time to continue the Kumade and Kakashi Saga with a new piece of pure crack fanfiction.

I offer no excuse nor apology for this ridiculous drabble. I've spent most of my life surrounded by boys in my immediate and extended family, so, it was inevitable that fart humor would make its way into my fanfiction.

Gen, Rated: G

Hiruzen Sarutobi assigned a mission to Kumade Toriichi erroneously, and he enlists Minato's help to cover his mistake before there are long-lasting consequences to Kakashi Hatake's reputation.

Read on AO3

The Genin Gaffe

“You have a mission for me, Lord Third?” Minato Namikaze raised his head to regard the leader of the Hidden Leaf from where he knelt in the Hokage’s office.

“Yes,” Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled the word absentmindedly within a cloud of pipe smoke without looking up from the scroll he was reading.

Minato maintained his reverent position and waited patiently as Lord Third finished scanning the message. Hiruzen signaled his completion of the letter with a thoughtful hum before he rolled the scroll up again and set it aside on his desk. The slight creases around his eyes became more pronounced when he issued a small, but warm smile to Konoha’s Yellow Flash.

“Minato,” he said the jōnin’s name softly and slowly. “Do you know Kakashi Hatake?”

“I’ve heard of him, certainly,” Minato said as he stood up. “He’s the son of the White Fang, correct? Other shinobi in the village have called him a prodigy, having graduated to genin after only one year at Konoha’s Ninja Academy.”

“Hmm,” Lord Third confirmed Minato’s information with a nod. “Kakashi has displayed exceptional skill and intelligence for one so young. However, I’ve been unable to find a permanent place for him on a team, even though he was quite popular among his classmates.” Hiruzen tapped the ashes out of his pipe into a glass dish before setting it down.

Minato paused for a moment to consider his response. “I have also heard that Hatake is difficult to work with,” he admitted. “Kakashi’s rigid adherence to the Shinobi Rules and determination to successfully complete missions regardless of the cost to his teammates has prevented others from wanting to join up with him.” Minato’s bright blue eyes met Hiruzen’s fixed gaze. “I assumed his behavior was a result of the circumstances surrounding Sakumo’s death. I can imagine the passing of his father has cast a long shadow onto Kakashi’s life.”

“Yes,” Lord Third emphatically agreed. “And it’s only one of the many problems his son is left to resolve on his own.”

“Oh?” Minato’s curiosity and furrowed brow displayed his genuine concern for Kakashi.

The younger man’s reaction was precisely what Hiruzen had hoped for, and he lowered his voice to emphasize that his next words were to be held in the strictest confidence. “As I said, Kakashi was popular among his classmates. Another student, Kumade Toriichi, seems to have modeled himself after Kakashi; though he hasn’t been successful at emulating him.” Lord Third ran a hand down his tired face.

“Kumade?” Minato cast a quizzical look to his Hokage.

“Toriichi,” Hiruzen repeated. “He struggled at school, and because Kakashi excelled in nearly every way, Kumade began to mimic him; in appearance especially.”

Lord Third pinched the front of his official headgear between two fingers and brought the hat down to hide his expression. “It has led me to assign a mission to Kumade erroneously. I’m afraid this has made things even more difficult for Kakashi.”

Minato’s blue eyes widened in shock that Konoha’s leader had made such a mistake, but he was quick to wipe the evidence of his surprise from his face. “The two must bear a striking resemblance, Lord Third.”

“Indeed,” Hiruzen lifted his hat a little, revealing the embarrassed flush that remained on his cheeks. “But that’s not the worst of it. It seems that Kumade has digestive issues.”

“Why would that matter?” Minato puzzled.

“Flatulence compromises even the best shinobi, Minato. Kumade is about as stealthy as Maito’s son. However, whereas Gai will learn the necessary skills to hide himself completely, Toriichi’s condition will plague him throughout his shinobi career. He may never rank higher than chūnin because of it unless perhaps, he can learn to harness it to his advantage.” Hiruzen removed his Hokage’s headpiece and ran one hand through his thinning hair.

Minato silently reassessed his dream to become Hokage, when introduced to a challenge he’d never considered. Outwardly he asked, “What does this have to do with Kakashi?”

“Kumade took advantage of the opportunity that my mistake granted him. He wants to be just like Kakashi, so he pretended to be Kakashi instead of correcting me. His hair looked a little different, but I thought Kakashi had cut it because of the hot summer it’s been.” Hiruzen shook his head. “That doesn’t excuse my mistake and doesn’t change what followed.”

Minato waited in expectant silence as Lord Third cleared his throat and continued. “It was a surveillance mission. They were supposed to shadow a group of traveling merchants that had roused suspicion during their visit to Konoha. From the little intel the team gathered, these merchants may very well have been spies from Iwa.”

Hiruzen sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “I assigned Shikaku Nara to lead this team, and according to his report, they managed to follow the others for several hours undetected until Kumade literally blew their cover.”

Minato’s mouth fell open, and he attempted to recover as quickly as possible, asking the first serious question that came to mind. “Wh-what made Shikaku suggest they were Iwa nin?”

“The targets encased themselves within an air-tight mud dome, which is an impenetrable protective jutsu that Iwa nin are known to employ. It’s their toughest defense, so it must have been awful. Unfortunately, the mishap incapacitated Shikaku’s team as well, and by the time they recovered, the so-called merchants had escaped underground without a trace.” Hiruzen leaned forward, propping himself up by his elbows on his desk as a grim expression overtook his face.

“My mission then is to try to confirm the identity of the escaped targets?” Minato wasn’t distracted by the odd details of Shikaku’s failed mission and quickly cut to the seriousness of the situation.

“No, I have a different mission for you. One that will remain off the books, and which may test even your patience, Minato.”

Minato respected the secrecy of this upcoming mission and stood silent, waiting for the details of his assignment.

“Word of this episode has spread throughout the shinobi of this village, as one would expect of gossip,” Hiruzen began to explain the sensitive situation to the Yellow Flash. “As you know, Kakashi’s cold demeanor hasn’t endeared him to his comrades. I have received several scrolls from Konoha ninjas respectfully requesting never to be assigned to work with the, uh, Gassy Genin, as they now refer to him.” Lord Third lifted the scroll off of his desk and offered it to Minato.

Minato accepted the scroll and was astonished by what he read. He inhaled sharply, “Does Kakashi know about this?”

“Not yet. I sent him to Suna to deliver a message to the Kazekage. Partly to report the suspicions of Iwa and partly to get Kakashi out of Konoha for a bit. I hoped that this whole mess would be forgotten, but it’s only grown worse. I expect young Hatake to return tomorrow morning.” Hiruzen sighed and looked up at Minato again. “Kakashi has enough problems without the foolish mistake of an old man adding to them.”

“How can I help?” Minato returned the scroll to the Hokage’s desk.

“Team up with both Kakashi and Kumade tomorrow. Round up lost cats, help the elderly carry their groceries, or assist civilians with chores—whatever you can come up with to keep those two boys together and most importantly, seen together. It’ll be easier to explain the mistaken identity that way and hopefully clear the air.”

Minato couldn’t help himself from chuckling at Hiruzen’s choice of words, and Lord Third soon followed him. “Please do this for me Minato. You’ll be compensated out of my pocket for a B-rank mission, because this may be just as difficult. Kakashi detests Kumade, and after seeing how far Kumade will go to mimic Kakashi, I can’t say that I blame him.”

Minato offered a half smile and a nod as acceptance of his mission, before bowing then turning to exit the Hokage’s office.

“Oh, and Minato, if it’s this hot tomorrow, take the boys for ice cream. It might help us determine if Kumade is simply lactose intolerant, which is easy enough to remedy. And should he drop offense where he goes, that’ll be all the proof we need to show the others that they too have mistaken this copycat ninja for Kakashi.”

The End

[disloopy]

remedy for a broken heart pt.2

nafla

genre: angst

word count: 3k

a/n. i’m sorry this look on nafla is superior don’t try to convince me otherwise. this part is soooo long im sorry but i hope its a good finish since you guys have been waiting forever for it.

                                 with a little bit of this, with a little bit of that we gon be alright

Nicholas sighed in exhaustion, plopping down on the couch next to you. The current state of the small studio he shared with the rest of the boys reflected upon the amount of time he spent there, working on songs but never finding one that seemed to qualify his ideals.

“What are the stakes?”

“Hm?”

“I mean if I quite music... can I live?”

You turned to him, setting your phone aside. “Ask yourself... you’re the one who said music is your life.”

“I know... but I’m afraid people here won’t accept me cause I’m not one of their own.”

You laughed. “Babe, it’s always hard at first, I’m sure they’ll eventually learn how amazing you are and will look past the differences.”

“You know,” Nicholas murmured. “Jinyoung hyung suggested we go to Korea for a a while.” He knew he had peaked your interest with those words. “He knows some people there. If we can start a stable career, then it won’t be too hard when we come back here.”

You smiled with a bright “that sounds great!” but there was a hint of worry in your eyes. Nicholas liked that. “Jinyoung is always reliable, isn’t he?” you said, looking away for a second. Nicholas nodded in agreement; trusting Jinyoung would be the only right thing to do in any situation.

“So are you all going?”

“Me and hyung are gonna fly out first, then we’ll get the others to come.” You didn’t say anything for a while so Nicholas reached over to clutch your hand. “When I get back, you’ll be dating a real rapper.” He hoped these words could at least be somewhat comforting to you.

“I already see you as a real artist,” you told him with a smile.

“Dude, what’s the deal?” asked Daniel, walking into Nicholas’s room as he was getting dressed for the day. “Mina just asked me if she can stay in the guest bedroom for the rest of the trip... did y’all fight?”

“We broke up,” Nicholas told him plainly.

“What?” Daniel couldn’t hide his shock. “We literally here to relax and you guys went ahead and made your own drama.”

Nicholas sighed in irritation. “Daniel, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” The younger boy fell silent, and put his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. 

“Well damn... so did y’all break up break up or...” Nicholas knew he was referring to the ‘incident’ with you . It wasn’t something he was proud of, the fact that all his friends, who were avid supporters of you, were conscious of the whole thing. 

“Fuck... I don’t know. Girls are so complicated.”

Daniel pressed his lips together. “Really, I think you’re complicated.” The two boys chuckled quietly, unsure of what was funny. “So you still up for tonight?”

“I don’t think it’ll be good if I came.. since Mina...”

“Bro, she’s coming too.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it.”

As Daniel was leaving the room, Nicholas asked him to keep quiet about the whole situation to which he respectfully obliged. Daniel was known to have a big mouth but he was also trustworthy and always had his friends best interests at heart. And with that thought, Nicholas found it might be easier to forget about everything and have a fun night out with the boys instead of moping around like this. His friends would be by his side anyway and maybe that’s what he needed at the moment.

Nicholas left the solace of his bedroom to join the rest outside. “Yo, Mina, I got smth for you,” said Jinyoung, walking over to where she sat next to Daniel. She looked up from her phone, trying to peer around Jinyoung to see what he had hidden behind his back. Nicholas also watched, trying not to look too unhappy.

“You know how you love Post Malone? Well, he’s in the city, performing tonight and we got you tickets.”

Nicholas saw Mina’s expression brighten  as she took the tickets from Jinyoung and jumped up, shaking her hips in delight.

“Oh my gosh, you’re the best!” She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Daniel pulled her back onto the couch.

“Don’t get too excited, you’re going with Owen.”

Mina’s lips parted and she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, are you serious?”

“I heard that!” Owen called from the kitchen to which Mina gave Daniel a sheepish look and he grinned, ruffling her hair. 

Rather than being envious of the way his friends treated her, Nicholas found himself feeling sympathetic. Mina had a way of hiding her emotions ― much like you ― and she was too obviously pretending she didn’t care about what had happened earlier that morning. Her pretense had worked for her in the past but Nicholas knew her too well. 

That night, Jinyoung and Daniel came into Nicholas’s room, informing him that they were leaving and if he’d like to join. “Can I come a bit later? I’m just not feeling it right now,” Nicholas told them, hiding away under his covers where he had been napping in all afternoon after a tiring shopping session with daniel. 

“Bro, you’ve been sleeping all day, what’s wrong with you,” said Daniel, trying to pull his blankets off but Nicholas held on to them tightly in fear his friends might see his phone open to your instagram page which he had been scrolling through for the past hour.

Jinyoung just sighed. “Daniel, leave it. Don’t force him to come.” Nicholas looked at him with grateful eyes and Jinyoung nodded. “I actually gave Mina those tickets so she’d leave you alone tonight,” he chuckled and Nicholas threw a pillow at him. “But you can join us whenever you’d like.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

When everyone left, the house was quiet and Nicholas hated how lonely he felt right now, but he brought it upon himself . He reached for his phone again, refreshing your instagram page to see that you had updated your story. 

Hesitantly, he brought his thumb on top of your profile picture, swallowing hard as your story opened up to reveal a picture of you with your arm draped around an unfamiliar girl, a bottle in your hand, your trademark million dollar smile plastered across your pretty face. You had tagged “Avalon Club” and Nicholas realized it was the same club his friends were going to. That’s why Daniel wanted me to come so bad.

Nicholas closed the story and went through your instagram posts once again. You had changed a lot and the posts showed it clearly. There was a gap in dates wherein you hadn’t posted at all and the posts from before the gap were of him and you, years of memories locked in a couple photos that had been buried under the more recent ones of you looking happier.

“Call when you land, alright?” you said, pulling away from the hug with Jinyoung. You asked him since you knew Nicholas would pass out and forget by the time they go to Korea.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Jinyoung replied, fixing his beanie that had almost fallen off from the contact. You finally moved to Nicholas who was waiting for you with open arms. He pulled you against him, burying his face in your hair ― little did he know, it would be the last time he’d get to do so.

“I’m gonna miss you so much,” you told him with a little pout. Nicholas saw that you were trying hard to hold in your tears and he pulled you closer again so the others wouldn’t see. “Don’t you forget about me while you’re there, okay?”

He moved back, cupping your cheeks. “How could I ever forget about you?”

But the truth is he could, and he did. After going to Korea, Nicholas found himself busier than he would have expected. He made sure to keep you updated for the first couple weeks but after one or two hectic months, he couldn’t find motivation to pick up his phone and call you. His busy schedule kept him occupied but even when he was free, it seemed there was no time for you.

Besides that, Nicholas’s new life presented him with extravagances he could never have imagined of in a thousand lifetimes, nor could he refuse them. Although he had done a very selfish deed and couldn’t muster up the courage to face you after that. 

But the girls that went back and forth from Nicholas’s room didn’t pass without the knowledge of his friends who thought he was being sus and questioned him about it. “Did you break up with Y/N?” asked Jinyoung.

“Uhhh...”

Jinyoung shook his head. “I did not expect this from you... seeing how attached you were to her, I thought you’d be begging to go back to America everyday.”

“Calm down, she’s prolly in another guy’s pants right now too.”

But both men knew you weren’t like that. Nicholas didn’t bother sending a breakup text because you had probably forgotten about him as well. However, you didn’t feel that way at all.

When the crew returned to America after gaining some popularity, you were still there, hitting nicholas up with instagram messages which he didn’t find it in himself to even open because at this point, ignorance was bliss. 

And it seemed like the eye contact he made with you on his first American stage spoke a thousand words, none that either of you could ever speak to each other. To this day, that look still haunted him. It wasn’t any normal “breakup” if you can even call it that. Because sometimes, he found a part of himself was still with you.

Nicholas must have watched your story about a million times, staring at the picture of you for so long his eyes began to hurt. He couldn’t stay here any more. He was pathetic.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Daniel smirked when Nicholas finally arrived at the club. He had already drowned his self-pity in a few drinks when Daniel and Jinyoung found him seated at the bar.

“Having fun?”

“We should be asking you that,” said Jinyoung, propping his elbow on top of the counter. “You look down... was it Mina?” At this, Nicholas’s head snapped toward Daniel who shook his head quickly.

“I didn’t say anything, I swear.”

“Mina told us you guys were having a fight in the car while we were dropping her off,” Jinyoung explained. “What’s gotten into you?”

Nicholas sighed. “Yeah... it was my fault not hers. Did she tell you we broke up?” His relationship with her was on a thin line.

“Uh no, she said you guys were ‘on a break’ or sum like that.”

Though slightly disappointed, Nicholas was relieved that she didn’t want to leave him altogether. His heart already felt weak at the thought of losing yet someone important in his life again.

“By the way... Y/N’s here,” Daniel said quietly. “We wanted to tell you so it doesn’t turn out like last time.” Nicholas faked surprise but in reality, he knew all too well your whereabouts. 

“That’s nice... I don’t really feel like talking to her right now, though.”

“I guess you gotta tell her that yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

Jinyoung cleared his throat, getting up from his seat. “Don’t look now but she’s walking right towards us.” Nicholas froze. That means you were probably right behind him. Nicholas and Daniel smiled and waved at you over Nicholas’s head and then gave him a look before walking away.

“Hey stranger.” Your voice was soft, almost like a melodic tune. He hadn’t heard it in what felt like ages.

Nicholas turned around. “Y/N! I haven’t seen you in forever! Wow, I can’t believe you’re here!” Was that too much? Who cared, he’d already messed up whatever image of himself you had in your mind. You hugged him but it felt like the distance between you two increased and it was like he couldn’t even feel you.

“I came to your concert but I guess your friends didn’t tell you I was there,” you said, sitting down in the seat next to him. “I figured if you did see me, you would have talked to me but you didn’t so...” 

Nicholas laughed in embarrassment but inside a piece of him died. It seemed he had been too obvious with his hesitation. Or maybe he was just an asshole. The latter seemed quite accurate. 

“Anyway, you are you?”

A mess, Nicholas could reply. But instead he said, “I’m good... I mean, I’m better than better.” 

“How’s life as a celebrity?” you asked, laughing. Nicholas couldn’t bring himself to look at you but your laugh felt like medicine all it’s own.

“Wellll, I don’t really feel like one.”

“Really? You sure do act like one.” You murmured the last part. Was this your way of saying ‘fuck you’ to Nicholas? Perhaps Nicholas was thinking about it too much. He needed to drink a little more.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked and you shook your head. 

“Nah, I was leaving with my friends right now actually... then I saw you.” You started to get up, taking your bag with you. “I’ll see you around then.” 

You can’t seriously let her leave like this, Nicholas thought to himself as his chest tightened. This may or may not be the last time he’d get to see you. A part of him wanted to remain that selfish and stupid self and let you go your way, as if just seeing you was closure enough.

But it wasn’t. The conversation was riddled with tension and if he hadn’t known any better, you were surely throwing shade at him for what he had done. If this was the only way to get rid of the guilt, Nicholas had to at least try.

He gulped down whatever was left in his glass and then stopped you. “Wait, Y/N! You got a minute?” You shrugged, sitting back down, clutching your purse tightly. Nicholas took a deep breath. 

“Listen... I don’t want to do this all over again,” he said quietly. “I just want to say I’m so sorry for being the worst boyfriend ever... and for being a dick and-”

“Nick,” you said, cutting him off. “I forgive you.” Nicholas fell silent. Those three words didn’t give him the relief he thought he’d get. A lot of him thought that you’d tell him you missed him and that you waited for him all this time and that you still love him. 

But none of that came. 

“Seriously...? Just... like that?”

You pressed your lips together. “I mean, what do you want me to say? That I still have feelings for you and I want to get back together?”

It sounded weird out loud the more Nicholas thought about it. “I just wanted closure... I mean, I’ve been kinda thinking about it and it was unfair to you.”

“Just forget it, Nicholas. You said you were ‘better than better’, what now?”

“Maybe I was lying,” he murmured and like that the stony expression on your face crumbled, softened to your glowing features as you stared at the glass surface of the counter.

“Maybe I’m lying too,” you said. “I mean, I know I said I forgave you but sometimes, I sit down thinking of you and I hate you.” Nicholas chewed on the bottom of his lip as you spoke. All this time he’d been worrying about his feeling and his guilt that he never thought about you.

“I hate you for not coming back for me when you promised me you would. But you know what, you have new friends, a new girl, a new life... who am I to tell you you can’t enjoy that?” You sat back and then looked at Nicholas and Nicholas looked back at you. It was the first time you two made direct eye contact and it didn’t feel like a knife piercing through him. 

“The last time we were together, I couldn’t help thinking of the future and...” you swallowed hard, taking Nicholas’s hands in yours. Your hands were just as soft as Nicholas remembered. “I knew that this would happen because I know you, Nick. I still let you go and maybe it was stupid but I was right.”

Nicholas held your hands tightly. “I wish that I could go back and change things... I swear I’m not like that any more.”

“Maybe you’re not,” you said, reaching up to touch the side of his face. “I hated you for what you did but I admire you for being able to sit here right now and at least tell me how you feel, even if it’s two years later. You’re not who you used to be, I know that.”

“That’s all I want,” Nicholas whispered. “To know that you don’t hate me.” You smiled and exhaled softly.

“I don’t. And I’m not holding this above you, Nick. We were so good together but we ended and that’s fine too. The best way to move on, though, is to let go of what you can’t control, let go of the past, Nicholas. The universe will align itself.” 

There were some days when Nicholas felt suffocated just thinking about you.You two didn’t end on good terms, if you had ended properly at all. But if this was the last goodbye, then Nicholas felt himself healing a little bit. 

You slid off your seat and kissed Nicholas’s lips. He couldn’t give in and kiss you back, but neither did he have the strength to pull away.

“There. Now we officially broke up,” you giggled, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Maybe I’ll see you later, or maybe I won’t. Don’t beat yourself up over me.” You began to leave with your friends and turned around one last time to wave goodbye. 

It felt like a certain weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Nicholas didn’t feel guilty anymore, the chains around his ankles were finally free. 

He took out his phone and texted Mina. “I’m sorry for everything.” Nicholas got a reply almost immediately, giving him the impression that Mina might have been thinking of him too.

She texted. “I know, love.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[fandomsphere]

Hey everyone! Welcome back to the FANDOM-sphere! Here is our (late) post for #fanfictionfriday the final part of Carried Away. 

We also wanted to announce that for the time being, our podcast episodes will be taking over the Friday slot of our postings. We hope to eventually bring back our original fanfic posts, but for the time being want to focus on getting the podcast out to you guys. We hope you enjoy the epilogue of Carried Away, and be on the lookout for our post about episode 2 of FANDOM-sphere hoping to have the technical difficulties worked out by early tomorrow. 

-Luci

Carried Away: Epilogue (Read it on ao3)

Adrien stifled yet another yawn. It was barely 7:30 and he was already trying to determine the best way to sneak out of the gala his father had required he attend. Unfortunately, from the look on Nathalie's face as she eyed him from across the room, that would not be an option.

At least, if he had to attend another one of these boring events, this time he got to bring his girlfriend. Girlfriend. He still couldn’t believe it. He had been dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng for two entire weeks and every moment had been amazing. He watched as she took a careful sip from her glass of red wine. He had to admire her poise, she was the image of perfection in her mint green dress with her hair pulled back into a braid. Her eyes were sparkling as she listened to the other guest chatter away about some runway show he had attended in Spain.

He remembered to nod when a comment was directed his way. Fake a smile. “It was lovely seeing you again. I’m afraid we must see a few more people at my father’s request. Pardon us.”

He placed a hand on Marinette's arm and led her away from the other guests. They stepped through a doorway into a back hall no doubt used for the staff to carry in trays of food.

“Sorry about all that,” Adrien said with a sigh. He tugged at his tie that so perfectly matched her dress. “Some of these people will just talk endlessly if you let them.”

Marinette shook her head. “It’s fine, really. I’m having a good time.” She swirled the drink in her glass, watching it carefully instead of looking at him.

He laughed then turned it into a cough. “Are you really?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

She looked at him then. “Okay, well, not good necessarily. But,” she looked through the doorway out at the other guests. “It is a good opportunity. Most of the guests here are people I'd never get the chance to meet otherwise. So, I’m hopefully making some good connections.” Her eyes returned to the drink in her hand. “And I enjoy being with you.” A blush dusted her cheeks and suddenly the hall was much warmer.

He looked away, reminding himself he really couldn’t be caught making out with his girlfriend at an event like this. No matter how tempting her lips looked.

He had just started to contemplate the idea of sneaking away from the party for a more enjoyable date when Nathalie appeared in the doorway. “Adrien, your father has a few more guests he’d like you to greet for him.”

He sighed. “Of course, Nathalie.” He took a step forward and followed his father's assistant back into the party, careful to make sure Marinette stayed close by. If it was connections she needed. Then connections she’d get. 

____________________________________

Marinette had to admit, she’d thought these types of parties would be more fun. A room full of people who were influential in the fashion industry: designers, investors, models, the wealthy people who bought the latest designs. And yet, she was tired of it already.

She had to assume it would be more enjoyable if she was actually one of those influential people, but then again, maybe not. Maybe they all were just very good at pretending.

She glanced sideways at her date. Adrien Agreste. She held back a sigh. No swooning here, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

Her thoughts were quickly sobered by the expression on his face. A forced smile, tired eyes, no signs of his usual playfulness. She wished she could do something about it, but with Nathalie leading them around to every person Adrien was supposed to greet… that wouldn’t be happening easily.

“It is great seeing you again as well, M. Moreau.” Adrien shook hands with the man standing before them.

M. Moreau chuckled and shook hands enthusiastically. “No sign of Agreste senior, I see.” His eyes landed on Marinette and he gave Adrien a smile that Marinette didn’t fully understand. “And who might this lovely young lady be?”

Adrien placed a gentle hand on Marinette’s lower back, guiding her forward slightly. “This is my girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette nodded politely and accepted the handshake from the older gentleman. She waited for what would happen next. The conversation would turn back to Gabriel fashions or Adrien and the future of both. Then after the mandatory length of polite conversations, they would move on to the next person.

This time surprised her.

“Dupain-Cheng?” Moreau asked. “Why does the name sound familiar?”

Marinette could feel the surprise on her face. Nobody at these events recognized her name. The shock dissipated quickly though as she remembered that it was more likely people knew her parents, not her.

“Perhaps you know my parents,” she offered with a smile. “Tom and Sabine, of Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.”

Moreau looked thoughtful. “Perhaps…” he tapped his chin.

Adrien took the silence as an opportunity to jump in and Marinette briefly wondered if he was going to reign in the conversation. Instead he began with something she hadn’t expected.

“Marinette’s parents run the best bakery in Paris. If you haven’t stopped by, you should make sure to do so before returning home, M. Moreau.”

Marinette could feel her face grow warm at the praise of her family. She knew they had the best bakery in Paris and most of her classmates (especially Adrien) loved coming by for treats, but it was different to hear Adrien praising her parents so openly.

Moreau nodded, seemingly impressed at the information. But apparently Adrien wasn’t done.

“Although, you may have recognized her from my one of my father's shows. She designed a piece for Gabriel a little while back.”

Marinette could almost die. Why was Adrien bragging about a hat. A single piece that wasn’t even an entire outfit. Just an accessory. She could practically feel her face turning red.

Her eyes met Adrien’s and she could see the sparkle of mischief she'd grown used to recently. But before she could do anything to remedy the situation, Moreau's eyes lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! That’s where I heard your name. At the show when Audrey Bourgeois returned to Paris. One of her writers did an article about it and mentioned you by name.” He looked at her with admiration. “I had assumed Gabriel had hired a new designer, but for someone so young to have so much talent, that is amazing.”

“Oh, no. Thank you, M. Moreau, but really I-"

He cut her off mid-sentence as he looked through the crowd. “Would you mind speaking with my daughter? She loved that hat and I’m sure she'd be interested in having you design a piece for her.”

Marinette glanced at Adrien who nodded encouragingly. Then she turned back to the man before her and smiled. “Of course!”

 ______________________________________

An hour later, Marinette had finished talking with several people in attendance. She had exchanged contact information with a few promising clients after they saw samples of her work that were saved to her phone and was now ready for some fresh air.

“Adrien,” she tapped his shoulder, gaining his attention. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a bit.”

He nodded then taking her hand he placed a kiss on the back of it. “I’ll await your return, My Lady.”

She giggled and headed off up the stairs. Once making it down the hall towards the bathrooms, Marinette continued walking. She opened a few doors, looking inside before closing them. Nothing was right for her plan.

Finally, she found an office that would serve her perfectly. She slipped inside and shut the door behind her. “Tikki.”

The red kwami poked her head out through the top of the purse, “Is everything all right, Marinette?” she asked.

Marinette nodded then flashed the kwami a smile. “Everything’s great, but I think Adrien and I are both a little tired of the party.”

Tikki giggled, “And I’m assuming you have a plan to fix that?”

“I do. But I’ll need my phone and you in order to accomplish this.” Marinette accepted her phone from Tikki and typed out a quick message. She returned it to her purse. “Okay, Tikki, spots on!”

___________________________________

Adrien felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He tried to force himself to ignore it as he listened to Nathalie discuss a new line with another guest. He had enjoyed helping Marinette make some connections earlier, not that she really needed his help, but now that she had stepped away he was bored again.

He pretended to pick up another glass from a nearby table and pulled open his jacket slightly to peer down at Plagg. “Hey, who’s the text from?”

Plagg yawned dramatically. Then the cat kwami reached into the pocket and pushed a button. It lit up and he looked back at Adrien. “It’s from your bug.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. Why would Marinette be messaging him when she could just come talk to him? Unless it was because she needed Chat Noir. He hurried back to Nathalie.

“I'm going to the bathroom. Not feeling well,” he lied.

She eyed him suspiciously but nodded. “Do make sure you return.”

 Adrien only made it as far as the hall at the top of the stairs before pulling out his phone to check the message.

Marinette ♡♡♡: meet me on the second floor. There’s an office across from a painting of the Seine. Go in and wait by the window.

Adrien felt his mouth go dry. He struggled to swallow down the thoughts that flooded through his mind. Really Marinette was not likely to be inviting him upstairs for an impromptu make-out session.

He went ahead and shoved a couple of mints into his mouth just in case. No sense in not being prepared, he told himself, ignoring Plagg snickering in his coat pocket.

Adrien followed the directions Marinette had given him and quickly found the room in question. But when he stepped inside, he realized that to his dismay the room was very empty.

He glanced towards the door briefly, wondering if maybe he’d gone in the wrong room. “Plagg, she did say this one, right?”

The kwami groaned from his hiding place. “I’m not your messenger. Let me sleep!”

Adrien took a few steps further into the room. He looked around, it was dark. Maybe he had misunderstood the text. He reached into his jacket for the phone when he heard a quiet whirring sound from behind him.

“That’s not exactly the window, y'know? That’s more of the middle of the room.”

He spun around, fumbling and nearly throwing his phone across the room. His eyes went wide, “Ladybug?!”

There suspended just outside the window hanging from a yo-yo string, was Ladybug. Spots and all. She laughed. “You seemed like you could use some fresh air. It can get kind of stuffy inside parties like these, can’t it?”

He took strides to the window, eager to close the distance between them. “So, does that make me your damsel in distress?” he teased, unable to keep the Chat out of his voice.

She rewarded him with a roll of her eyes and a tap on the nose. “Maybe more of a handsome prince trapped in a tower?”

He grinned. “Then please rescue me, fair knight.”

Ladybug beamed at him. “I was hoping you’d ask.” Before he could blink, an arm had shot out and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him out onto the window sill. Ladybug stepped up onto the sill, pressing them close together. She wrapped an arm around his waist. “You ready?”

He struggled to regain his words so he could answer, but finding they were long gone, he simply nodded.

Ladybug leaned closer, allowing her lips to press against his. “Then let’s go. Gotta get you back by midnight, right?”

Adrien laughed, “I think you’re mixing fairy tales now, Princess. I expected bette-”

His words were interrupted by Ladybug suddenly pushing off of the window and swinging them off into the night air. The only sound following Adrien’s outcry of surprise, was his Lady's laughter echoing through Paris as she carried him away.

[raendown]

A brief interlude in to the Senju compound!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 6/18 Word count: 1707 Summary: When Tobirama is exiled from the Senju clan without warning, without even the chance to plead his case, it feels like his life is over. What does he have to live for now without his older brother to believe in him? Captured by the Uchiha in his moment of weakness, Tobirama slowly learns to live again with the last people on earth he would have ever expected to care for - or to fall in love with.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI in the blog header!

Chapter 6

She was twirling a blade between her fingers when she sauntered in to the room. Not a kunai because she was always very serious about how she treated the weapons that protected her own life and others’ during battle but instead a bare blade that had broken away from its handle, probably scooped up after it was shattered during some training session or another. She perched herself on the corner of his desk with a casual set to her mouth and a razor sharp focus in her eyes, hard as agates.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she noted. “Is it because you’ve been thinking about what a massive fucking prick you are or is it because you’ve been wondering what other terrible decisions you might have made in your life?”

Hashirama lifted his brush away from the letter he had been composing and carefully set it aside before the tremble of his fingers could ruin the elegant calligraphy.

“Did you need something, Touka?” he asked in a steady voice. When he dared to peer up at her his cousin was staring over his head just as she had been for the past several weeks, looking through him as though he wasn’t even there.

“I need you to pull your head out of your own ass.” Her answer made him sigh.

“Touka, don’t start again. I have the Nara on the cusp of an alliance. If I can sign a treaty with them then the Akimichi and the Yamanaka are sure to sign as well. That’s a lot of lives that could be saved but to do it I need to finish this letter.”

Lounging back over top of some very important papers, she sniffed dismissively. “Funny that, you worrying about saving lives when it was also you that threw the best of us away like trash.” With her eyes turned away she couldn’t have seen how his hands fisted against his knees and squeezed tightly, veins rising along his arms as his knuckles turned white.

“Don’t,” he warned her quietly.

“Oh, did I hit a sore spot? Well, terribly sorry if I don’t actually feel very sorry about that. You see, I’ve got this sore spot myself nowadays, this gaping hole in my chest where I should have two living cousins instead of one, and it’s your fault he isn’t here.” Touka’s head snapped down to bore her heavy gaze in to his own. “I hope you were prepared when you made that decision to live with it because I won’t forgive you for this, Hashirama. I won’t. Not if we both live to be a hundred; I will never forgive you for sending him away.”

Staying calm was hard but Hashirama had been getting rather good at clinging to his own sanity lately. He forced his spine to stay straight and his voice not to waver.

“Tobirama”–they both flinched at the name–“desecrated the graves of children. He was discovered at the scene, committing the deed, and there is research in his laboratory to prove it was done with intent, not by accident. There is only so much–”

“Discovered by who? Were you there, oh mighty clan leader? Did you see this evidence with your own eyes?”

“Not the research, no. I…I could not bring myself to…”

“We’ve had this conversation a dozen times and your answers never get any smarter, you know that?” With a tired shake of her head, Touka lifted herself off the desk and turned away. When she reached the door she paused to speak over her shoulder without looking back. “We follow you, my lord, because we believe in your judgment. Because we believe you care about those you lead. What is there to believe in when a man will send his own brother away to die?”

Hashirama took a moment to breathe around the emotions that flooded through him at her words before he was able to gather himself enough to ask, “Did you come here for anything else?”

“You wanted to know when the patrols came back. Nothing unusual to report…my lord.”

She left without a reply, her duty done.

Once she was out of sight Touka stormed down the hallway as quietly as she could, not wanting her cousin to hear just how badly she was still affected by the situation, but she didn’t make it far. Mito sat in the living room calmly darning a pair of socks. By the time Touka saw her it was too late; she’d been spotted herself and there was nowhere to run.

“You are too hard on him,” Mito told her. Touka snarled.

“He sent my baby cousin out to die. His own brother!”

“There is no evidence that Tobirama has died.”

“Bull shit!” Forgetting herself, she neglected to lower her volume as she released the beast that hovered always just under the surface these days. “I tracked his path for hours. I saw which direction he went, saw the footsteps and the patterns and I’m no Inuzuka but I know an Uchiha stench when I smell it. His tracks were there and then they weren’t. He’s gone, Mito. My cousin is dead.”

Her matriarch lifted one stern eyebrow. “Then where is the body? Where are the celebrating Uchiha taunting us with their kill? You know as well as anyone how fast he can disappear when he wants to. There are a hundred other places he might be.”

“I WANT HIM HERE,” Touka screamed, her composure breaking entirely. “He belongs here! And your rat of a husband sent him away! Turned him out with nothing to die unarmed, thinking he was unloved!” Her fists tightened just enough to remind her of the blade she held, sharp against the skin of her palm just like the blade Hashirama had sunk deep in her heart.

“That was not my husband’s intention,” Mito said.

“Yeah well the road to hell and all that.” Touka turned her head to spit, uncaring of the rich carpet beneath their feet. She ignored it when the other woman narrowed her eyes with distaste.

Setting aside her knitting, Mito folded her elegant hands in her lap and lifted her chin until she looked nothing less than the princess she had been back in Uzushio. A gentlelady and a warrior both, she could have leapt across the room and torn out Touka’s throat in an instant if she wanted. Instead she kept her eyes steady and her voice gentle despite the undertone of steel in every syllable.

“You presume much and you accuse more. How many patrols have gone and come back in the past five weeks?”

“Uh…a lot?” Touka faltered at the sudden question, seemingly so off topic. “A lot more than usual, anyway.”

“And where have they gone?”

“Everywhere? They’re running double time around the borders and I know we’ve got scouts out to check on almost every clan we have even a tentative alliance with. What does any of that have to do with this shit?”

“If you think for even a moment that Hashirama has truly forsaken his brother then you have not been paying attention.” One brow raised to add an extra edge to her words, Mito picked up her needles and resumed darning socks as though they were talking about nothing important.

Touka stared, her jaw hanging loose. “He’s…”

“As I said, there are a hundred other places that he might have gone.”

“He…he was the one who sent Tobes away in the first place.”

“And if you found someone with their fingers in little Kawarama’s grave?” Mito asked softly. “Would you have been rational and waited for an explanation?”

It was a damn good question, one she didn’t want to answer. She didn’t need to.

“Mistakes were made. Should not every man have a chance to remedy the things they’ve done wrong? And believe me, my husband is more aware than you could possibly know of how wrong his actions were. He does not need your reminders.”

Unable to listen, Touka spun on her heel and rushed back in the other direction, not wanting to be so much as a step closer to Mito as the moment. Her intention had been to slip out the back door of the home but to get there her path took her up the hall again and passed Hashirama’s office. Her footsteps slowed and came to a stop for her to stare inside at the image of a broken man.

Hashirama held his head in both hands, the letter he had been writing completely ruined by the tears falling through his fingers, shoulders trembling with emotion. Watching him break down in the privacy of his home made her wonder how he managed to appear to be so calm in public. It made her wonder why. Why had he done it in the first place? What was it that stopped him from mourning in public or showing regret for his decision? Her cousin had never been a prideful man, he had never been afraid to admit to his mistakes. Only two things had ever forced him to rein in his own reactions and one of them had been Tobirama himself, forever exasperated as he guided his brother towards more appropriate public behavior. The other had been the rare time when Hashirama did not want someone to see him feel. She wondered who he could possibly be afraid of seeing him mourn.

Slowly, carefully, Touka reached out to pull the door of the office closed, doing her best to stay silent and not disturb the man inside. If she had been wrong about Hashirama she was still too angry to face it. When she was calm she would come here again and ask her questions but for now she needed to be elsewhere, she needed to be somewhere comforting.

Never had she been more grateful to be the only person Tobirama even entrusted with the key to his ward seals. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in the corner of his private laboratory and pretend that everything was fine, that if she only waited long enough he would come home for dinner like a stray cat that finally wanders back to the place where he belonged.