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cherry-pop-elf · 11 days ago

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Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

“STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

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magics-neptunes-things · 4 months ago

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Blue Words (One Love 8)

Hi guys!

Some of you asked for it, so this is the new chapter for One Love.

Please be aware that this chapter isn't the happiest of all I wrote for this series, but I tried to add some fluff in it.

Also the Title is from a french song called "Les mots bleus" and this is the only song with the world "blue" i could find, with Lucy going to Chelsea. (Still hating it)

Thanks again for reading me ♥

TW : Angst, Sadness.

(1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7)

London has always been a city who was foreign for Ona. Even when she was living in England, she was in Manchester and all the teams here were just opponent. Unless Laia Codina who came there in 2023 and Mariona who will be here now, she doesn’t have friends here. There are Laia and Leila in Manchester still, but she didn’t have any reason to come back in England since she left for Barcelona.

Well, it was before.

Because now, Lucy is going in fucking Chelsea, a team she hated all her life. It would have been better in her eyes if Lucy went in Arsenal, at least she will be with Mariona. But no, she’s wearing blue and Ona can’t get used to it.

When Lucy received another call from the Barcelona’s staff, they were both in Cuba, their day just finish after strolling in the city during the afternoon. They were enjoying the swimming pool of the hotel, Ona inside water while Lucy was happily drinking a Piña Colada, sitting on the swimming pool with her feet in it. Ona understood very quickly that the conversation isn’t going the way Lucy hopped.

Because the English woman really wanted to stay in Barcelona. She loves the city, the people, the team, the league, the wins… And she loves Ona, of course. She never decided anything in football while thinking about her love life, but this time she wanted to do it. Life chose to be different though.

Lucy didn’t take a decision without talking to Ona before. Lucy wanted to play as much as possible, she’s not young anymore and she knows that her months are counted. She’s not stupid. But Barcelona couldn’t promise her that, now that everyone came back from the respective injuries. Lucy could have accepted less money if she was still able to play as much as she wants. But it wasn’t Barça’s plans. So, after a long discussion with Ona, she didn’t accept Barcelona’s offer, with sadness.

Only one day later Chelsea came to knock at her door, and after some adjustments, she said yes. It wasn’t ideal to be that far from Ona, but it’s better than Mexico or the USA who wanted her too.

Between their trip in Cuba and Ona’s training for the Olympics, Ona managed to find some days to come with Lucy in London to look for a flat.

They managed to find a duplex on the last ground of a building near a park, for when Lucy will have to walk Narla. It seems pretty good to be honest, but Ona has trouble to imagine Lucy here. She always has known her in Barcelona, in a sunny home. Not a rainy and grey one. It makes her sad, without any reason.

Ona putted a brave smile on her face during all her trip with Lucy, not wanting to damage any memories they could have here. Their time is counted after all.

She met some of the Chelsea players and she doesn’t really like them. She doesn’t like the way Millie Bright seems to find normal for Lucy to be here. She doesn’t like how some of the other girls are all flushed when they see Lucy. She talked a little bit with Julia Bartel who was playing in Barcelona while Lucy was talking with some of her teammates from England, but it was hard to keep smiling.

The day after, they went to Ikea to buy some furniture for Lucy’s flat, she already made come what she will need here with a boat. She bought a lot of candles from their favorite shop in Barcelona to have a little piece of Barcelona in London.

She took advantage of Ona getting a shower to put the last details of her decoration, before they have to leave to go to a party organized by Niamh Charles with a lot of Chelsea’s players. Lucy asked her if she wanted to go, and Ona returned her the question. When she saw Lucy hesitated, Ona mumbled something about creating a bond with her teammates and they decided to go.

But Ona would rather have time with Lucy only. Once again, she chooses to put Lucy’s feelings before hers.

She has the same false smile on her face all night, talking from time to time with some of Lucy’s new teammates, working on herself not to stick with her girlfriend all night. She knows how the English are different from the Spain about touching and everything.

“She will be great in Chelsea Ona, you will see. We’ll take good care of her.” Millie Bright told her with a big smile at some point in the evening.

Ona just smiled, asking herself what the blonde meant by that. She knows that Millie is straight or at least engaged with someone, but it’s still sound strange in her ears. She talked the most with Aggie Beever-Jones and Jess Carter, munching some vinegar crisps.

Lucy went to check on her several times during the night, but Ona always told her that she was fine, with the best smile she could give her. But Lucy isn’t fooled by Ona. She knows very well when her girlfriend is pretending, and it breaks her heart every time that Ona assures her she was fine and that they can stay a little bit more.

But at some point, Ona just feels overwhelmed. She’s not angry, or sadder than before. There is just too many feelings for her at that point and with the noise, the music and people blasting it’s just too much. She just has to cross Lucy’s eyes for the English woman to understand that it was time to go home.

“Come on” Lucy just says, reaching her hand for Ona to take.

The Spaniard oblige, following Lucy who pretends to be tired with the move and everything.

“Hope to see you soon again, Ona” Niamh smiles at the Catalan when they went to her to say goodbye.

“It will be hard but I definitively want her wagging in London for me” Lucy smirks, grabbing Ona by her hips to kiss her temple.

“Alexia will kill me if I wear a Chelsea jersey” Ona points with a small smile.

Lucy snorts and they say their goodbyes to the last people before leaving the heath of the flat. It feels good to breath fresh air, Ona closes her eyes two seconds while breathing intensely before turning in Lucy’s direction.

“Uber or walk?” Lucy asks.

“Walk? If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not”

Lucy smiles at her and Ona smiles back. Her smiles grow bigger when she feels Lucy passing her arm around her shoulders, and she let herself go against the bigger frame of her girlfriend.

“Better that way” Ona whispers, grabbing Lucy’s fingers with her hand.

Lucy hums, her lips stroking Ona’s hair softly. She can feel the younger girl’s trouble, but she doesn’t want to push her buttons and forced her to talk to her. But she feels like Ona might explode at some point, and it’s not in her habits to shut down her feelings like that.

She choses not to insist to much with Ona, using a small talk during their trip to her flat. They know Mariona is getting her things done during those days too, except that her girlfriend was already in London to find her a good flat. Even if it will be at St-Albans, Ona is glad to know that there is at least some people Lucy knows already.

She’s happy to find back Lucy’s flat, even if it doesn’t quite feel home, at least it’s Lucy’s.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch something with a last drink?”

“As you wish Corazon” Ona shrugs.

Lucy looks at her several seconds before deciding for a movie and a drink. She makes some tea while Ona is looking at something they can watch, grumbling when she realizes that a lot of the series they are watching in Barcelona aren’t watchable here.

“What did you make a choice?” Lucy asks with two fuming cups of tea. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“Friend’s” Ona grumble, before throwing herself in Lucy’s front when she sits next to her.

Clingy Ona isn’t really new, but Grumpy Ona is, Lucy thinks. She play with her girlfriend’s long hair for several minutes, watching television with an absent-minded air.

“Are you ok?” Lucy finally asks.

“Sí, porque?”

“Because I don’t have the feeling that you are. You’re grumpy like an old man.”

“No, I’m not” Ona pouts.

Her face is so cute that Lucy can’t help but laugh a little. She hopes that it won’t make Ona even more grumpy, so to avoid that she starts tickling her.

“Yes, you are!” Lucy smirks while tickling her girlfriend.

Ona tries to resist the urge to laugh, but Lucy knows how and where she’s ticklish. It doesn’t take her more than ten seconds to have a laughy mess writhing under her.

“Stop, Lucy please” Ona manages to pronounce between two laughs.

Lucy finally stops and she looks attentively at Ona while the younger calm her laughters. She lets her take her breath, stroking softly and lovingly her cheeks. She lets five other seconds pass, during which she looks deep in Ona’s eyes.

“Come on, Bonita, talk to me. What’s going on?”

Ona sighs and look away, making Lucy frowns. She’s usually the one who is struggling to let her feelings and struggle out, not Ona. Ona talks to her, explain to her her thoughts without any fear to be judge or mocked.

“Hey” she adds after some times, turning delicately Ona’s face in her direction. “Come on, it’s me. You can tell me everything, you used to do that. Don’t shut yourself from me, please.”

Ona blinks several times, biting her lip, before finally deciding to open her mouth. She can’t refuse anything to Lucy when she talks to her this way.

“It’s just… I don’t know” she frowns in turn. “I knew what will happen, but this weekend is like the concretization of all of this. And I know that I push you to accept this offer, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to let you go.”

Lucy wants to talk, but she realizes soon that now that Ona has started to talk, she needs to get everything out.

“It’s hard to know that you will be here after everything we had in Barcelona. I hate coming home to have a reminder that you’re gone, I hate to see Coco looking for Narla, I hate not to find the toothpaste tube open with its plug next to it. I know it’s not your fault, but I miss you and it hasn’t even started.”

She really wanted not to cry, but she can’t help the tears rolling on her cheeks. Of course she knew, it doesn’t mean that it’s an easy moment to live. They were so delighted when Ona signed her contract in Barcelona, so far away to think that they will be in this situation again several months later.

“And this weekend, I really wanted to help you settle down and make your flat cozy and comfortable and lovely, but it’s like that damn sadness couldn’t leave me alone. It’s your flat, not ours. It feels so strange.”

Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, when she wipes harshly her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. Lucy needs to swallow the lump in her throat before talking, so she wipes herself Ona’s tears, way more softly than her, to have a distraction.

“I miss you too” Lucy mumbles before sitting, because she was still half lying on Ona. “It’s hard to imagine my daily life without your mess in it, but I swear on everything I have that I will come in Barcelona as soon as I have a day off, Ona. And I know you will come too.”

She stays silence for several seconds, during which Ona nods at Lucy’s words. Of course, she will come. Even if it’s mean catching a cold every weekend while freezing in the stand.

“And for the flat… Come on” she says suddenly, standing and grabbing Ona’s hand.

The Spaniard doesn’t have any other choice than following her to her bedroom. She frowns when she sees that Lucy has installed other frames, probably while she was showering before leaving for the party.

“This is the jerseys we swapped after the World Cup, but I thought it will be better to frame them together”

Lucy looks Ona when she gets closer to the jerseys while she’s talking. No one knows that they swapped their jersey that night and if someone just take a look at the frame, it won’t be easy to understand. But they both know and it’s enough.

“This one is a mix of the pictures we took when we won all our cups last year” she points another frame.

Ona gets closer of this one too, just to see a mix of official pictures of both of them, but unofficial pictures too. There is for example no way in the world that they posted picture of them kissing with the Supercopa cup, Lucy grabbing Ona’s waist while the younger has a bottle of beer in hand.

“And those are what I wanted to hang on other rooms too” Lucy adds while rummaging in one cupboard before taking out several other frames, of different sizes. “This one is for my nightstand (she shows a picture of them in Cuba), those are for my living room (there is a picture of Coco and Narla playing in the snow, one of them in Stani’s wedding, a selfie taking at Minorca and another one when Lucy’s family came to Barcelona to met the Battle) and I wanted to put that on my fridge (four photobooth pictures taking at Manchester, the first time Lucy came after they got together). Oh and this one is for the bedroom too (a picture of Ona with Lucy’s niece and nephew, playing on the beach).”

Lucy looks thoughtfully at the pictures before raising her eyes on Ona, almost shyly. Ona is still crying, (or again), she doesn’t even know. But this time, she’s smiling softly.

“You are not living here, but you are still part of that place Ona. No matter where I am, you are still with me. Forever.”

Ona almost crashes in her arms when she went for a hug and Lucy seriously think about writing to Jonatan because damn, those arms sessions for Ona worked maybe a little too much.

“I love you, so much” Lucy says again, Ona’s face in her neck. “I’m leaving Barcelona but I’m not leaving you. It doesn’t change the plans we made. I still want to marry you, we will have those little Ona running around in the house and everything we talked about”

“I want a little Lucia too” Ona objects weekly.

“My brother would probably say that it’s a terrible choice, but everything you want Bonita.”

Taking a big breath making her shivers, Ona finally leaves Lucy’s neck. She’s not crying anymore, and Lucy kisses her face almost ten times before talking again.

“I need you to talk to me when you are struggling like that. Can you promise me you will do?”

“Only if you promise too” Ona answers, looking at her expectantly.

Lucy rolls her eyes, which makes Ona smiles softly. They both know who will need to work the most between the two for that.

“Promised” Lucy finally says.

“Promised back”

Lucy kisses her on the lips that time, savoring Ona’s taste and Ona’s body against her. They didn’t talk about it, but Lucy will miss the lazy mornings in bed and having Ona around her like an octopus with messy hair. Ona stilling her clothes too. Talking about that…

“And I will leave half of the dressing for your clothes too, for when you will come to see me”

Ona smirks.

“I was hoping to leave every time with some of your clothes”

Lucy laughs this time and grab Ona’s face with both of her hands to kiss her one more time.

“Time to go to bed? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“Yes please” Ona mumbles.

They take turn in the bathroom, Lucy going to turn off the TV and the lamps in the living room before going in her bed. Ona follows her soon after, crawling under the sheets to snuggle against Lucy.

“We will be alright Ona, I swear” Lucy whispers in the dark.

“I know. I trust us” Ona whispers back.

She left her loving position to be able to kiss her.

“I’m going to miss the fan’s speculations about us being together after every game though” Ona smirks.

“Oh, don’t worry. I have an idea for that.”

Ona raises an eyebrow, questioning Lucy that way but the English woman just shake her head with a devilish smile before kissing Ona again. She managed to make her forget about what she just said, but the O. Battle jersey from Spain is definitively coming this week for her to wear during Spain’s first game in the Olympics.

#woso imagine #woso fanfics #ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #lucy bronze #lucy and ona #lucy bronze x ona batlle #ona batlle x lucy bronze #lucy bronze imagine

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coleyhomebeddingbundle · 1 year ago

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Quick Ship Modern Furniture: Convenience Meets Contemporary Style

Introduction In today’s fast-paced world, convenience is key. When it comes to furnishing your home or office, waiting weeks or even months for delivery is simply not an option. That’s where quick ship modern furniture comes in. Combining style and functionality, quick ship modern furniture allows you to transform your space with contemporary designs without the long wait times. In this article,…

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#bed custom furniture #bed frame made in usa #dorm headboards

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adarkrainbow · 7 months ago

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Is it just me, or Americans and Europeans depict the standard, stereotypical fairy tale setting differently?

In my opinion, Americans depict the fairy tale setting as closer to the middle ages. The Fairy Tale Setting is often just a more colorful standard, almost Tokien-like, Fantasy Setting.

Meanwhile, in actual European adaptations of said tales, the stereotypical fairy tale setting is closer to the 18th, 19th century, with the architecture being the only thing vaguely medieval

Yes, I actually do believe as such. Mind you, I cannot speak for all of Europe - mainly France and a handful of other countries I am vaguely aware of adaptations (like England or Germany).

And I believe it is due to two specific things.

A) The very "American" view of fantasy. I mean, we have been repeating and endlessly talking about it for decades now - but for Americans everytime there is something fantasy or magical it is either "standard European medieval setting" either "modern-day America". And when I say "standard European medieval setting", it is this sort of idea and phantasm American built of a vaguely European setting which mixes various countries of Western Europe (Americans only have taken recent interest in other parts of Europe, such as Northern or Eastern, due to the success of things like "Midsommar" and folk-horror and whatnot), and various eras of the Middle-Ages (the Middle-Ages were divided into three specific period quite different from each other), with a good handful of things that were not from the Middle-Ages (like the witch-hunts, for example, they were Renaissance, not medieval).

Of course it is due to a mix of general ignorance about Europe (or any part of the world that is not the USA), and of not actually caring about the original setting since their point is either to parody/reinvent the fairytales in lighter/darker ways, or prove that theses stories are "timeless" and can invent outside of any specific context (which does greatly benefit Americans since like that they can snatch anything they like). Mind you it isn't something universal - take the Disney movies for example. They might not be quite exact, but at least they made a neat effort to evoke different cultures and different eras of Europe. It is very obvious that Disney's Snow-White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty take place in various points of Europe's history and in different countries (Snow-White's visual influence by German furniture and statues versus the nods to French culture in Cinderella ; Sleeping Beauty's medieval illumination visual versus the more modern royal outfits of Cinderella, etc...). But it is an effort that got completely lost through time (and I think it can be shown in how, when Disney made "Enchanted", their fairytale setting was turned into a random fantasy setting outside of time and space - it did reflect quite well how people saw the fairytale world at the time).

And you know what is even worse? This "random medieval setting" you speak of is NOT even Tolkien's! Tolkien setting was not medieval in the slightest, and doesn't look like your usual "medieval setting". Just look at the visuals of the Lord of the Rings movie, compare it with some "random fairytale setting" and you see the huge gap. If anything, Tolkien's world is more of a "Dark Ages" (you know, this unknown gap between Antiquity and Middle-Ages) feeling than anything, due to mixing Ancient Scandinavia with Ancient Greece and Dark Ages Arthurian Britain.

But... when you think about it, that the Americans would create such an unclear and artificial setting for their fairytales make sense, since this is literaly what "their" fairytales were compiled as. I'll explain: when you ask an American to list you fairytales, when you see the fairytales used in the American media, it is a Frankenstein-creature. You've got the brothers Grimm and Charles Perrault and Andersen and Joseph Jacobs and nursery rhymes and some Asbjornsen and Moe fairytales... Their exposition to fairytale was by compilations of stories literary and folkloric, from different centuries and different countries, mixed together as one. As such... it makes sense for them a fairytale world would look like a pile of mashed-potatoes in terms of history-geography. Because they have to build a world that mix all of these stuff as one... (Plus something-something about the Americans being fascinated by the Middle-Ages because they did not have one?)

B) The Europeans are very "conscious" about fairytales. I will almost say "self-conscious".

Europeans are bound to always test and try various time-eras, fashions and context for fairytales due to a set of three reasons.

1) We have centuries of "traditional medieval imagery" that the Americans lack. Since our fairytales were published between the 17th and 19th centuries - some even by the 20th - Europe already underwent the whole "Random medieval setting" phase through popular imagery and children book and whatnot. America just begun it from the 19th/20th century - we have been at it for two, three more centuries. So today we are moving forward (and in general, while there are many aspects Europe is "late" compared to the USA, in many other ways Europe is "in advanced" compared to the USA, just because of how "young" this country's history is).

2) We are aware of the context of our own fairytales. Due to the language barrier, for example, we know every time a story comes from somewhere else. We have folktales compilations classified by countries and regions. And everytime we bring up a specif set of fairytales, we bring up the life, job and time-era of the fairytale tellers (Perrault, Grimm, Andersen, which are our "national treasures" - unlike Americans for which they're just "yeah little foreign guys we see in the distance"). As such when the French talk about Cinderella or Puss in Boots, the very images of Renaissance are brought up, the same way a German will immediately think of the Napoleonian wars and the post-Napoleon era when thinking of the Grimms - even though the fairytales are supposed to be in the "pseudo-medieval" setting.

3) Europe has been flooded and dominated by the American media when it comes to fairytales. As such we are very aware and accustomed to the "pseudo-medieval" setting popularized by America, and when Europeans try to do their own thing, they usually try to set themselves apart from it, due to knowing how cliche and Americanized this already is. Something very similar happened with French fantasy literature for example - French fantasy books are always trying to stand away from the "cliche American fantasy book" precisely because we are flooded with them and they form the bulk of our fantasy literature, so as such we are very aware of the flaws and stereotypes and expectations coming with the genre... It also doesn't help that most of the castles and "old-fashioned" architecture around Europe is not medieval per se (or that the medieval architecture is for example very impractical when it comes to filming movies), and we have much more Renaissance buildings and the like. In France for example most castles are Renaissance-era. "Real" medieval castles (as in medieval castles not "remade" by Renaissance or modern designers) are much rarer, or not as well preserved as the Renaissance ones.

Anyway this post got way bigger than I intended, but if you ask me some of my thoughts, here they are - mind you they are just my thoughts and I can't speak for every European. I am just one little eye and one little mind in a big big world... But that's the things I am led to believe.

#fairytale adaptation #ask #fairy tales #fairytales #american fairytales #disney fairytales #fairytale cinema #fairytale adaptations

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catleaftree · 1 year ago

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Dozing on High

While the Tree Top is perfect for rambunctious play, it’s also great for dozing high above the action in the home. This tree top is a fair bit smaller than the version we’re working with for our most recent Leaf Tree version, but Cosmo really enjoys it!

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#Cat #Cat Nap #Cat Tree #DIY #Leaf Tree #LTMk1V1.5 #Made in USA #Maker #Manufacturing #Nap #Pet Furniture #Prototype #Small Business #Supply Chain

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host-club-hq · 2 years ago

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Indeed: ~The Host Club Declares Dissolution!~

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x reader

➼ summary: the carpet is quite literally pulled out from underneath you. two morsels of unfortunate news befall you. how are you going to tell the club?

➼ word count: 8.4k

➼ what to expect: "I'm not going."

➼ warnings: heavy angst, abuse

➼ chapter navigation

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ prepare the waterworks, my loves

The school grounds are buzzing with excitement and activity. Although, this activity comes from the construction crews scattered about the courtyard, directed by teachers and administrators alike.

It's not any type of ordinary construction you'd expect for a mere school fair. There are cranes lifting metal support beams, scaffolding building enormous creations, and teams of construction workers moving furniture and props.

The Host Club, in particular, has extreme influence when it comes to the Ouran Fair, considering they're the most popular club on campus, and the Ouran Fair revolves around clubs and their creations.

So, just as you'd expect, the Host Club is among the directors for the crew to put everything in its place.

"Oh, and those go in the building's main salon, okay?" Kaoru cranes his neck over his shoulder when he spots two men transporting a particular box.

"Alright!"

"Hey, be careful with that." He calls to another pair of men, handling a piece of furniture carelessly.

"Uh... aren't school fairs meant to be, I don't know, more about students proudly showcasing unique things that they've made by hand?" Haruhi stands adjacent to Kyoya, observing all of the extreme effort that goes into making this fair look like a prestigious event. But... she can't spot a handmade vase or carefully painted canvas by a student anywhere.

Kyoya scribbles in his brown, leather-back notebook that he uses for... less important things, to say the least, "Perhaps for a mere average school, yes." He shuts the book securely as the leather strap wraps itself around the two covers, keeping it shut. He shoves it into his pocket.

"But at Ouran, the emphasis is on planning and leadership skills. Keep in mind, most of our students are being groomed into positions of leadership, so they're required to showcase a talent for upward mobility, no arts-and-crafts."

Kyoya's explanation makes perfect sense. The students here are held to higher standards than that of a normal high school. The arts don't necessarily guarantee you a position taking over your parents' company. But, leadership skills get you closer than anything.

"Huh." Haruhi nods to herself. Her next thoughts are interrupted by a whinnying horse, coming to a halt just before them.

An elegantly decorated black and cherry red horse-drawn carriage is driven by Hikaru with Mori at his side. Hikaru pulls on the reigns, "Whoa, whoa!" The horses obey his command immediately, shaking their manes with vigor.

"Nicely done. You handle the reigns like a pro." Mori nods to Hikaru seated beside him.

"Haru-chan!" Honey calls from the back seat, waving Usa-chan's arm in her direction.

Tamaki spins theatrically, offering Haruhi his hand, "Climb on board! We're rehearsing for the big Ouran Fair parade!"

Seated just beside the dancing pair of blond boys, you roll your eyes, rising to your feet and leaning over the side.

"Too much?" You chuckle as Kyoya approaches you, head angled up to your height as he stands below you.

"Just a tad." He smiles back.

"Yeah, I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't have it." You sigh.

"He never will. But, nonetheless, it is a nice touch." Kyoya shrugs, flipping through his pocketbook quickly.

Just after Haruhi climbs aboard, Tamaki immediately fawning over her, you extend your hand and offer it to Kyoya, "Come on, Kyoya, get on the carriage." You urge.

Kyoya blankly stares at your extended arm before shaking his hand, "Absolutely not, get off of there."

You blink, eyes wide-set, "What? But-"

"Just trust me." Kyoya smiles impishly.

You raise a brow, shrugging.

"Alright. I trust you."

You step down from the carriage on the steps provided, waiting for Kyoya's next action. Oddly enough, just as you set foot on the ground, Kyoya strides behind you and hoists himself up into the carriage.

"But you just-"

"M'lady." Kyoya offers you his hand, similar to your gesture before. You merely stare at it for a moment.

You snort with laughter, "Ah, what a gentleman." You giggle at his intentions, delicately placing your hand in his as he helps you into the carriage.

Kyoya's eyes disappear in a smile as you sit beside him, offering your hand a squeeze before settling his own hands in his lap.

The carriage pulls the group along, passing most of Ouran's female students, watching you all with awe and fairytale-like wonder. Mori was right; Hikaru handles the horses exceptionally well.

"Think you could handle the horses like Hikaru?" You nudge Kyoya in the side playfully.

"If I set my mind to it, perhaps." He shrugs at your odd question. When would he ever need to handle a horse-drawn carriage?

"You never know when you'll need to." You tease. Kyoya scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"Right."

Kaoru turns over his shoulder to his brother, "Hey, you know, you've gotten pretty good at this." He grins.

"There's nothing to it; you should have practiced with me earlier." Hikaru reminds.

"Well, just because we're twins doesn't make both of us good drivers." Kaoru jokes at the expense of himself.

You smile fondly, your ears easily picking up the light-hearted conversation between the two. It's quite nice to listen to each twin speak to each other rather than with each other. It's not often that they're not finishing each other's sentences, but it's pleasant when it does, in fact, happen. The notion of individualism shines through a bit more nowadays.

"It's kinda neat having all of us together like this. for a carriage ride, huh?" Honey smiles widely, settling into his seat comfortably with Usa-chan in his lap.

"Yeah, whatever." Haruhi grumbles, squished between your shoulder and Tamaki's. At least yours doesn't sport a stabbing shoulder pad.

"Oh, and for the actual parade tomorrow, we'll all be in 18th century French costumes." Tamaki pipes up excitedly.

You purse your lips, "18th Century France? As in... the century when women wore thousands of layers, including a suffocating corset, and garish makeup that makes them look like they've seen ghosts?" You deadpan.

"Precisely." Kyoya nods from beside you.

"I don't know what you expect me to wear, but it won't be that." You shake your head, chuckling with faux-mirth as you cross your arms.

"It won't be quite that accurate, but you'll still be wearing a corset." Kyoya explains casually.

"If you'd like me alive and breathing, I suggest you find something else for me to wear."

"It's only for a few hours, y/n, you'll be fine."

"Oh, so you get to tell me when I'm fine? How would you like it if I took a thick piece of fabric and wrapped it around your torso so tightly that it felt like all of your organs were being pushed together?"

"Settle down, we'll discuss it later." Kyoya urges with a nearly stern glare.

You blink, unaware of where this sudden attitude was coming from. You cross your arms and settle back into your seat, more confused than upset.

The clock tower chimes loudly at the top of the hour.

"Ah. The fair's opening ceremony has started." Tamaki observes excitedly.

"It seems it has." You peer over the side of the carriage as Tamaki offers you a beaming smile.

"Let's make this fair the best one yet!"

You snicker, "Let's do just that." Just after your statement, the clock tower continues to chime.

~The Host Club Declares Dissolution~

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

~Ouran Fair Opening Ceremony...~

The chorus of violins produce elegant pieces of music as students waltz along the grounds contently. Rose petals floating gently through the soft breeze, oddly reminiscent of the Host Club.

Inside the central building salon, a lush array of pink chandeliers decorate the ceilings with grace, adding a certain poshness to the atmosphere.

On the main floor, the Host Club is open to the general public. Which basically means the students of Ouran and their beyond wealthy parents.

You busy yourself with a tray of assorted sweets and pastries, pushing them along in a serving cart. You're dressed somewhat similarly to your fellow club members, but obviously differently because of your gender. Although, you do like your outfit far better than the others. A simple, beige colored dress with a thin red ribbon sitting at your color with a dark gray turtle neck sitting under it all is just perfect for you.

"Now, remember, as part of the fair, the Host Club will be open to parents and visitors for the next two days, which means we will need to be even more charming than usual. Let's get out there and and how our honored guests the time of their lives!"

... That almost means that you'r practically working at least three times as hard as you usually would need to. You're constantly running low on refreshments and you're constantly being called over for favors, asked questions, and cleaning empty tables.

It seems that, today, your duties are reduced back to errand girl.

"Isn't it just wonderful, Mother? This is the Host Club I've been telling you so much about. What do you think?" One of the regular guests gushes to her mother fervently.

"Well, actually. I cannot say I approve of this. I think that these young men just enjoy being fawned over." Her mother replies in the haughtiest of tones.

Tamaki quite literally slides to her side, "You are quite right, Madam. We are such shameless, selfish creatures." He takes her hand in his with the gentlest of natures, "All of this is mere pretense- for spending time with lovely young ladies such as yourself. It is a weakness. Forgive me."

"Oh!" Tamaki has reduced the esteemed business woman to nothing but a flushed, infatuated mess in his hands.

"What an enchanting club!" Her attitude suddenly makes a flip at his display of flattery.

"I told you!"

"You're too kind, both of you."

"Seems we're open for business using counter-madam tactics." You grumble jokingly to yourself as you continue to push your cart along.

Knelt before Honey, Mori adjusts and pulls at his vest, "Here, your buttons are mismatched. Allow me." He fixes them promptly.

"Thank you very much!" Honey giggles charmingly.

A nearby table has the privilege of witnessing the scene, "How adorable! They must be brothers. The older one is so thoughtful." The guest's mother gushes.

Adjacent to your side, Haruhi groans, "Wrong." You snicker at her scowl.

The twins' hair is neatly combed for this momentous occasion, putting on their best 'good boys' behavior for the prestigious parents they will be attending to.

"But you see, our mother and father were both so busy that they had no time for the two of us." Hikaru's eyes remain downcast, as does his brother's.

"We played by ourselves. Which is the reason we're so lonely now." Kaoru finishes with.

Sitting before them, a guest and her mother express their sympathy, "Oh, you poor things!"

"They've got the sob story down almost as well as you do." You nudge Haruhi in the side. She's probably already used her late mother tactic on a few guests and their parents.

"You have got to be kidding me." Haruhi grumbles.

You happen to notice a group of parents surrounding Kyoya, and for good reason. The insight into his tactics for maintaining the club financially (and in many other aspects) is practically priceless.

As you wheel your cart over, several parents thank you briefly before picking up a new cup of tea and setting their empty ones back in the places of the fresh cups. You nod, "My pleasure."

"One of our daily goals here at the Host Club is to evoke different time periods. So we make it a point to thoroughly research a wide variety of historical traditions in the interest of maintaining authenticity."

And by we, he means himself. Although, when busy, Kyoya has often asked you to take up the research on certain eras and their culture so that they won't be missing anything essential.

"That's quite impressive!" A father chirps.

You place the empty teacups on the lower tray of your cart so as to keep up a clean image and bring up new, filled cups to the top.

"Yeah, quite impressively political." Haruhi mutters beside you.

"You're just not having any of this today, are you?" You sigh, propping a hand on your hip.

"Excuse me, young lady?" You turn at that, as you're the only young lady associated with the club.

"My daughter has been gushing over a charming fellow by the name of Tamaki, do you happen to know where he is?" A student's mother approaches you, looking quite lost.

"I certainly do, ma'am. He's the blond-haired princely looking host speaking with that group of lovely guests. Please, don't hesitate to ask for anything else." You bow after pointing in Tamaki's direction with an open hand rather than one finger.

"Thank you, my dear." She brushes a hand gently against your shoulder in thanks as she she slides along past you to Tamaki.

"Wow, Senpai. That was quite the act." Haruhi observes as you sigh exasperatedly.

"Kyoya told me that I 'must be on my best behavior.' Lord knows what he meant by that." You groan.

"I noticed he's been kinda stressed recently." Haruhi glances over to the host in question.

"I've been trying to be patient with him. I know Tamaki's extravagant ideas have him scrambling a bit. I know he's trying." You sigh tiredly.

"They must have had you scrambling, too." Haruhi points out.

"Oh, yes. Advertising for this event was an entire ordeal all by itself. Not to mention I had to go over plans with Tamaki for days." It makes you exhausted just thinking about it.

"Is your dad coming?" Haruhi glances around in question.

"Mm, not sure. He mentioned he might or might not. Not sure what that means." You chuckle apprehensively.

"I think he should. You're doing a really great job." Haruhi beams kindly.

"Oh, well thank you. Tamaki's been working me like a horse, but I'm happy with how everything turned out. And... if he does come, I do hope that he behaves." You chew your lip anxiously.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Kyoya's keyboard is under much strain as he clacks his fingers across the keys, gaze determined under the glare that his glasses produce. Haruhi takes in her surroundings with wide set eyes, just a bit bewildered by the nature of the event.

"This is a bit too much even by our standards." She turns slightly to Kyoya by her side.

She sighs, letting her head dip, "You could buy a small country with all the money we're wasting."

Tamaki appears behind Haruhi in an instant, startling you, "What nonsense! That's not the Host Club way at all and you know it! Happiness is above any price tag! Besides, think of all the exposure! We'll-" Haruhi stops Tamaki's tirade by pinching his hand. He squeals, pouting.

"No, Haruhi's right, you have overshot the budget." Kyoya announces.

You take one look at Tamaki's expression after that statement and you feel your heart pulse sympathetically, "It's not that bad, is it?" You peek over at Kyoya's computer and your eyes grow considerably wide when you read over the current numbers.

"Kyoya." Tamaki whines.

"The use of this salon notwithstanding, you had a period-style carriage shipped in all the way from France. Must you always be so capricious? Your impulsiveness is overwhelms my accounting skills." Kyoya shuts his laptop and adjusts his glasses.

"Hey." You nudge him in the side when you take another glance at Tamaki's expression.

"Typical." Haruhi scoffs.

"Whatever! Capricious is just another word for creative! I'll have you know that the whims of the Host Club King are stuff of dreams, no price is too high!"

As Tamaki practically storms off, you pull up a chair and sit across from Kyoya, "I think we need to talk about your people skills." You inform him, somewhat serious.

"My people skills are not the problem." Kyoya resumes work on his laptop.

"Fine, then let's talk about your friend skills. You can't just tell Tamaki that, you know how he is." You hiss in a whisper, becoming much more stern.

"I'll have you know that I know Tamaki probably better than you do." Kyoya peeks at you over his laptop.

"Then you must know that he takes everything to heart. And if I were him, what you just said would have hurt my feelings a lot, and I would be thinking really hard about it." You narrow your eyes.

"Good thing you aren't Tamaki, then."

You scoff, "What is the matter with you? Listen, I know you're stressed and accounting is difficult, but that doesn't give you the right to treat people however you want-"

"If you wouldn't mind, y/n. I'm a little busy."

Your stunned silence is almost in disbelief. You stand up from the table, "Fine. Suit yourself." You turn on your heel and move to attend to any guests that might need you. You're much too busy to put up with his bad attitude, anyway.

You find an unfamiliar guest sitting by herself on one of the many loveseats set up for the guests to rest on. She doesn't look old enough to be a student's mother or guardian, but she doesn't look young enough to be a student yourself. Nonetheless, she's a guest.

"Welcome." She lowers her pair of theater binoculars and you're almost rendered speechless by the striking aqua color of her eyes. She's not from here.

"May I get something for you? Perhaps I could interest you in something sweet. We've got a wide selection of teas as well."

She only stares at you a moment, her gaze unabashedly judging as she rises it to meet your own.

"You're with the Host Club?" She folds her hands in her lap and you can't miss the way her posture is perfectly set.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm here at your disposal." You bow with a polite smile.

"Father!" Both of you are distracted by Tamaki's exclamation and direct your attention to a man entering, dressed completely in white save for a colorful purple necktie.

"Do not refer to me as father. The term is far too familiar. You will address me properly as Chairman."

This is one of the few times you've ever had the pleasure of meeting Tamaki's father. Your gaze narrows upon his entrance and Tamaki shuts his mouth, embarrassed.

Although, Kyoya is quick to step in and direct him elsewhere, "Ah, very good! Welcome, sir. Please, let me show you to your seat."

"Thank you."

You glance back at the woman behind you and notice that she quickly lowers her theater binoculars and turns away as if she hadn't been watching the ordeal take place.

You're not distracted for long as a very notable entrance is made not long after Tamaki's father.

You dare to meet his gaze, quickly apologizing to your guest, who doesn't seem to mind your absence terribly, and rush to greet him.

Your father barely spares you a glance as you offer him a deep bow, "Welcome, Father. I'm elated that you could make it."

"Yes. Quite the... little party you have going on." Your father scans the crowd of fawning ladies and the hosts that attend to them. He'll never quite understand why you ever joined this frivolous club.

"May I show you to a seat?" You gesture.

"If you must." He follows you as you scurry to one of the nearest open sofas. He sits down, crossing one leg over the other and glowering at you expectantly.

"Can I get you anything?" You don't specify what you have in stock- whatever he wants, you will bring to him.

"Why are you wearing that?" Your father scans your attire with a disapproving expression.

"What? This?" You glance down at your own outfit and dust if off anxiously.

"Why the turtle neck? The dress is quite perfect on it's own."

Your cheeks heat up in a terribly strong shade of red. You fiddle with your sleeve, "It matches the club..." You inform, gesturing to the other members scattered about who are dressed similarly to you.

"Well you're not even a host, are you? Shouldn't you be dressed in... something else?"

"Father... I'm still a part of the club, I'm still a member of the team-"

"You're not on a team. You're an errand girl." Your father scoffs, glancing around to see if any other parents are witnessing the exchange.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but quickly realize that you have nothing to retaliate with. He's not wrong, not wrong at all. In fact, he's completely correct. You hang your head apologetically.

"Where's this Ootori boy that you're so infatuated with?" Your father cranes his neck over your shoulder, searching for him.

"Kyoya is..." You search for him with your eyes, but they widen considerably at what they find.

You barely have time to react before a loud smack! echoes through the salon, followed by several appalled gasps, including one of your own.

A pair of thin-rimmed, silver glasses hits the carpeted floor from the force at which Kyoya's father strikes him across the cheek. No verbal or even physical reaction follows from Kyoya, he only kneels to the ground to pick up his glasses, his dark bangs covering his eyes.

You don't even manage to excuse yourself from your father before you're practically sprinting to where he kneels.

But your father isn't paying attention to you anymore, he's watching the scene unfold before his very eyes.

Is that what it looks like?

"Kyoya-Senpai!" Haruhi calls from her seat beside Tamaki and his father.

Just as you reach him, he's managed to put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose with a soft, pained breath.

"Is this how my son has been wasting his time?"

You can't seem to bring yourself to step any closer to him, watching him solemnly rise to his feet, expressionless.

"That's Kyo-chan's father, isn't it?" Honey inquires quietly.

"Yes."

"You are an embarrassment to the Ootori name." Without another word, Yoshio steps away from his son, a similar glare on the lenses of his glasses as his son's.

Kyoya pushes two fingers against his glasses to adjust them. Silently.

"Suoh, my friend. I am sorry you had to witness that." Yoshio apologizes to the Chairman as he passes him.

"That did seem rather harsh, given how exceptional he really is. For a man with three fine young sons to carry on his legacy, your avarice would seem to run deep."

Yoshio does not reply. The Chairman continues.

"I've heard about your trouble. Believe me, it's only a matter of time before the media gets wind of it. Please tell me you're not taking that out on your son."

Nothing more is said before Yoshio departs.

"Kyoya, are you alright?" Tamaki and the rest of the club approaches him cautiously.

With your arms seized to your chest, you part the crowd of hosts and finally manage to near him. Getting a better look at him, you can spot the reddening mark on his cheek as he stares down at you wordlessly.

You suppress the tightening of your throat to speak, "Are you okay?" You gently reach out to place a hand on his arm.

"I'm perfectly alright. Your father is here, isn't he?" Kyoya brushes past you gingerly.

You blink, "Y-yes, but-"

"By all means, we should greet him." Kyoya cuts you off.

Your heart sinks as he walks off. Haruhi catches his attention, "Senpai, he wasn't upset with you 'cause of the Host Club, was he?"

Tamaki tenses, anxiously awaiting his reply.

"Don't worry about it." He pushes past them easily, "It's not like I haven't been expecting this." He moves along, but not to your father like you'd expected.

"Wait, Kyoya-!" You start off after him.

"Because of... the Host Club?"

The Chairman passes his son who is frozen in stunned silence, "Whims have consequences, Tamaki. Take my word for it, they do not come cheaply for people like us. Accept it. Life is hard. It's time for you to grow up and realize that dreaming only postpones the inevitable."

"y/n!" A familiar student calls.

When you turn at your name being called, you lose Kyoya in the crowd. You sigh, putting on a stunning smile and making your way over to the group of girls that called your attention, "Coming!"

When you arrive, they greet you with excited smiles, "We really appreciate that you made time to visit us." You bow.

"Start thinking about the future, son. If you plan on becoming the head of the Suoh family, there's a long, hard road ahead of you. You're going to have to live with the choices you make for the rest of your life. I advise you to think very carefully about what it is you really want before it's too late."

The Host Club isn't going to last forever.

The doors to the salon creak open, handled by two men, and in walks an elderly, strict-looking woman.

"Now look sharp. Your grandmother is here."

Tamaki grins widely, dashing to greet her, "Grandmother! I'm so glad you could come!" He beams.

The entire Host Club watches. All, save for one, are glaring.

"Aw, that's so sweet. So that's Tamaki-Senpai's grandmother?" Haruhi smiles.

Your clench your hands into fists, brow twitching with rage, "I hate that woman." You growl darkly.

Haruhi nearly physically flinches at your harsh words, mouth agape with surprise at your choice of speech when she returns her attention to Tamaki.

"Please come in, take a seat." Tamaki gestures openly to one of the many empty sofas in the salon.

"Don't patronize me." Tamaki is left frozen at her response as she waltzes past.

"Filthy child." She spits bitterly.

Haruhi can hardly believe her ears, gasping at how shockingly Tamaki had been treated today.

"Lady Éclair, come over here for a moment, please."

At her demand, the woman you were tending to just moments ago strides along to greet Tamaki. Her hands are clasped behind her back, twirling her theater binoculars with a smug grin.

"For the remainder of the day and tomorrow, you will be Lady Éclair's personal escort."

Lady Éclair thrusts her chin up at Tamaki insistently, humming curiously. She peers at him through her theater binoculars.

"What's wrong? I gave you an order."

"Hello there, Tamaki." Éclair smirks. Tamaki remains speechless, then adorns a smile as best he can manage.

"Very well, grandmother. I will do everything in my power to ensure her happiness. Just as you wish."

You set a new cup of tea before your father on the table, regaining a straight posture to gauge his reaction.

He lifts the cup to his lips cautiously, savoring the taste a moment before humming, neither with approval or disapproval, and setting it back down on the matching saucer.

"Your friends seem to be quite busy." He acknowledges, unabashedly scrutinizing each one with judging eyes.

None of the hosts are as enthusiastic as they were before Tamaki decided to abandon you all. It seems that the entire aura has changed. Nonetheless, the absence of your boss doesn't mean that any of you get to shirk your responsibilities, no matter how confused you are.

"Yes, sir." You nod, watching your friends along with him.

"That scene with the Ootori boy seems to have put a damper on things." Your father sighs, somewhat pensively.

You huff, "He isn't the one that caused the scene, Father." You remind.

"I do think it's quite necessary. This club is a waste of time." He ignores you, scoffing.

You shake your head with furrowed brows, disoriented, "A waste of time?" Where did that even come from?

"I actually applaud Yoshio for taking the initiative."

"You applaud Mr. Ootori for abusing his son?"

Your father nearly snaps the handle of the teacup off its base and narrows his gaze toward you, "Abuse and discipline are very different things, young lady."

A very thin line separates them, apparently.

"Like you would know."

Your audacity catches your father completely off guard. Just as he's about to retaliate, you turn on your heel, steam practically coming from your ears as you make way to storm off and occupy yourself elsewhere.

But your father is faster. He lunges and grabs your upper arm, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

"Don't turn your back to me when I'm speaking to you, disrespectful child." He sneers.

You twist to face him the best you can in your position, gaze boring into his own.

"I'm turning my back so I don't do something I'll later regret."

Your father blinks, caught off guard once again. You challenge him with narrowed eyes.

"Excuse me, sir?"

A polite, disembodied voice comes from behind your father. There stands Kyoya with a familiar cellphone held in your father's vision. As he turns, he releases you, and you're quick to backpedal away, rubbing your arm sorely.

"Does this belong to you? I found it on the floor just now and thought it might be yours." Kyoya manages the most passive aggressive, feigned smile that he can.

Your father all but snatches the phone away from Kyoya, shoving it back into his pocket with a grumble, "Yes, thank you, Ootori."

Kyoya nods, "It's my pleasure. Now, I'll be needing to steal y/n away for a moment if you don't mind. An errand girl's work is never done." Kyoya brushes past your father to place a hand on your shoulder firmly.

"Go on."

Kyoya makes quick work of leading you away, almost too quickly for your liking. You half expect him to actually lead you to a guest in need when he stops you after some distance away from your father, placing both hands on your shoulder and assessing you with concerned eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Your heart warms and you offer him a weak simper, "Perfectly fine." You assure.

"No bruises?" He takes your arm carefully in his hand.

"Not yet, anyway." You joke lightly. "But, thank you."

Kyoya can't help but return your grateful smile with one of his own, "Of course."

"Senpai, are you okay?" Two voices pipe up behind you. You turn to face them, greeted with two identical heads of ginger hair and two pairs of concerned eyes.

"I'm fine, really. Don't worry." You assure, waving them off with a soft laugh insistently.

Hikaru and Kaoru glance at each other with apprehensive eyes, leaning on one another affectionately. Another parent is added to their list of people to keep an eye on...

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The hosts have made a group that consists solely of themselves, observing that their guests are becoming quite self-sufficient in terms of entertainment. At this very rare break, Kyoya attempts to chip away at the ever growing budget with his laptop at the ready.

"Tama-chan isn't coming back, is he?" Honey whines.

Kaoru appears with Hikaru perched atop his head, "So does he really plan to spend-"

"- the entire fair escorting some stranger?" Kaoru grumbles.

"Éclair, right? Or something like that." Hikaru mutters, looking entirely bored.

"Who is she to him? That's the mystery." Kaoru chirps.

"I could tell you."

For the first time, the voice that pipes up is not unwelcome, but it's not enthusiastic either. You perk up when Renge approaches the group, looking solemn.

"Oh, Renge?"

"Éclair, Tonnerre, she's the youngest daughter of the renowned French Tonnerre family. They descend from royalty."

Glasses shining and keyboard clacking, Kyoya adds on, "Indeed, the family has quite a history. Their wealth something of a legend among financial heavyweights. In fact, just being associated with them makes you part of a very elite group."

That name rings a bell in your mind. Your brows crease, "Don't they own Grand Tonnerre?" You pipe up curiously.

"They do. It's a firm that's been buying up a lot of businesses in Japan lately." The club seems enthralled by Kyoya's vast knowledge. But, then again, who wouldn't be?

You groan, "But that doesn't explain why French Princess stole our boss way from his own event." You grumble.

"It does not." Kyoya sighs.

You catch Haruhi in your peripheral vision, her back is turned to you and the group. She's uncharacteristically un-inquisitive and quiet for a topic like this that usually would have piqued her curiosity by now. But, it seems that Lady Éclair is a sore subject.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The clock tower chimes, indicating your second costume change of the day. Honestly, you have no problem with changing costumes throughout the day, but you are dreading the last day's costume- the corset. But, for now, your outfit consists of an off-white, lace dress to match the cream color of the hosts' tailcoats. Your neck is adorned with a simple red choker to match the hosts' red neckties.

You feel like you belong to a singing barbershop quartet, but you don't mind in the slightest.

You hang your previous garments on the costume rack in the back room of Music Room #3, along with your future outfits. You grimace at the frills and ruffles adorning both your and Haruhi's costumes. Just as you place your hands on your serving cart to exit the backroom and rejoin the club that's already waiting for you, your ringtone goes off.

Your brows crease with confusion- who on earth could be calling you if the club members are off doing their jobs?

You stride to your bag sitting in a far corner of the room, kneeling down to the tile floor to dig through it. You fish it out of the confines of your smallest pocket and reveal the caller ID- your father.

He was less than happy with you when he left about an hour or so ago. But you imagine he's had enough time to cool down and is calling for another reason.

"Hello?" You exhale carefully.

"y/n, what's the name of that hotel we stay in when we go to London? I'm always forgetting what it's called." He demands immediately.

You cock an eyebrow, lips tugging downward in confusion. That's a very odd question to ask somewhat urgently over the phone.

"Er... the Bulgari? It's on Knightsbridge..." You chew your lip, thoroughly disoriented by the question.

"Ah, I knew it was something along those lines. I always enjoy our stay there, don't you?"

You chuckle nervously, still unsure about why he's asking, "I do, Father."

"I've had the maids pack everything you need; they've been quite speedy about it."

You let out a breath of air, "Are we going to London for a visit?" You inquire curiously. To be quite honest, that's exactly what you need right now. You need to step hundreds of miles away from all of this drama and return to a normal club.

"Not visiting, no. Say, do you happen to remember the name of the driver we always reserve? It's on the tip of my tongue." Your father groans, shuffling around at the other end of the line.

"Andrew. Father, why are you asking all of this?" You exhale in a wispy laugh, beyond baffled by this weirdly upbeat conversation. Has he had a drink or two? His cheery demeanor seems to indicate so...

"Well, we'll need to stay there while they're preparing our estate, now won't we?"

You blink, the gears turning in your brain and working overtime to make sense of all of this, "The estate? Why can't we just stay at the Bulgari? It's perfectly luxurious and the service is quite wonderful, at least that's what I recall."

"We can't stay in the Bulgari forever, y/n." Your father nearly laughs.

"Forever?" You inquire curiously.

"Well, not forever, I guess. Until something new comes along."

"When do we leave?" You glance out the window to the large clock tower across the courtyard.

"Tomorrow. I've waited to schedule the flight until after your little fair so that your... friends won't be too upset. Not that you'll have much to do, anyway..."

You ignore his comment with the shake of your head, "Wha- tomorrow? When will we be back?" You ought to inform Kyoya of your traveling dates.

"...y/n, we're moving there. We won't be returning to Japan."

It doesn't set in right away. Your lips falter downward from a confused smile, gaping in shock. The stunned silence seems to last minutes, hours before you manage to speak again.

"That's not funny, Father. Please put whatever drink you've gotten out away." You feign a laugh, brows creasing angrily.

"It wasn't supposed to be funny. I thought I told you about this." His voice is deadly serious.

"About what? Your little moving joke?"

"It's not a joke, young lady. We're moving to London. Did I really forget to mention that to you?"

Your heart all but falls out of your ass as you sit there, dumbfounded, on the floor of your beloved clubroom. Your face pales considerably and you feel you're going to be sick to your stomach at the way it flips violently.

"My apologies. That's my fault."

Your chest heaves, letting out a faint cry as you lean forward, placing your hand down onto the tiled floor for support.

Moving.

Moving. As in not coming back. Permanent.

"You're not serious..." It's more of a plead than a statement. You hear your father sigh heavily.

"I thought you'd be excited." That's a blatant lie and he knows it. He sits in your living room, surrounded by papers and his phone pressed to his ear.

"How could you do this?" Your voice becomes more desperate and weepy with every passing second. You knew your father would jump through hoops, dragging you along with him to accomplish his means, but nothing like this.

"You're always talking about? You love London-"

"To visit! I love to visit London!" You shriek hysterically.

Your father can hear the absolute heartbreak in your shaking voice. He can't deny the way his chest aches at the sound of it. He pushes on despite that fact, clearing his throat.

"Father, we've been in Japan for four years... how could we just pick up and go so soon?" You whip your head around and glance once more at the clock tower in a newfound light.

"It'll be quite easy, you know. You haven't many things to pack-"

"But, Father, I go to a wonderful school, and- and I've got friends! I don't know what I'll do without the club-" You hiccup, throat constricting around your words as you force them out of your mouth and past your lips.

"The club and that Ootori boy are two of the main reasons we're moving you away. And my company is fairing very well in London, and they've been needing a lot of my attention recently. So, it's really a win-win situation-"

You let out a desperate cry, heaving in an inhale, "For who, Father?" You hiccup once more, clamping a hand over your mouth as fresh tears create a river down your cheeks.

Your father is silent. You're completely right. He knows this is a decision that will likely tear your life apart for the next year or so. But it must be done. You can't keep influencing yourself with those idiots you call friends any more. He's not blind to the way teenagers' minds are influenced.

"I'm not going." You straighten up defiantly.

A deep, heavy sigh, "Yes... you are-"

"No, I'm not!" You whimper pathetically, nearly collapsing to the ground if it wasn't for your arm holding you up, trembling.

"Compose yourself. This is not the way you are to behave."

And you do, as much as you can, out of instinct. You sniffle, wiping your tears away only for more to trickle down.

"We're leaving tomorrow after your fair. I'll have to arrange you a ride since I'll already be at the airport by the time it's over."

"Can we even talk about this? T-this is my life too! You can't just uproot me out of nowhere." You plead.

"It's all done. We will discuss this later."

Your eyes grow wide, "Wait, wait, Father, please-"

But nothing. The line goes dead and you're left staring at your lock screen. Ironically, a beautifully angled photo of the school's clock tower, doves soaring across the screen.

A trembling breath passes your lips, your phone clatters to the ground, teardrops hitting the screen.

How are you supposed to leave everything you've ever known? You've never spent more than one school year in one place in your entire life. How are you supposed to leave everyone you've ever known come tomorrow? You thought Japan was a permanent arrangement. It just goes to show you how cruel reality can really be. Not even the refuge of your precious Host Club can save you now.

You gasp as a realization hits you, immediately crumping over in a sob: how on earth are you supposed to tell the club? How are you supposed to tell them that, come the end of the fair, you'll be gone without another trace? You're supposed to live without Hikaru or Kaoru ever teasing you again? Without Honey begging you to please, please, please have just one more sweet with him and Usa-chan? You'll forever be lost without Mori's comfortable silence by your side, without Haruhi's grumbles and stories of hardships... without Tamaki's charismatic whims. You don't even know if you'll even see Tamaki tomorrow.

How... are you supposed to tell Kyoya? How are you supposed to give up this relationship that both of you worked so hard to begin and maintain? Just like that? You can't even imagine living without his witty comments and snarky remarks, his almost smiles when you manage to amuse him, his sweet, loving gestures of kindness when he isn't quite sure what to do to console you or spoil you.

And so, you lay there. Curled into the fetal position on the floor of the Host Club for possibly the last time, hugging your arms to your chest as you let our heart-wrenching sobs. The clock tower chimes at the top of the hour.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You are... a terrible mess. Not to mention, terribly late for meeting the rest of the club to resume the festivities. You worked tirelessly to clean up your smeared makeup, doing a poor job covering up the redness and puffy nature of your eyes. At least you managed to cover the red tint of your nose. You merely ran a few fingers through your hair before stepping out with deep, heaving breaths.

You sorrows are slightly consoled when you enter the central salon.

"y/n-chan looks great!" Honey beams.

"She does." Mori concurs. Such compliments from them are high honor, you would be a fool not to appreciate them.

Kyoya's gaze only manages to slide over to peer at you through the corner of his eye. Something... is wrong.

"Not bad." HIkaru smiles. You glide past him without a word.

"You clean up nice, y/n." Kaoru grins. You don't spare him a glance.

"So where did the boss go?" Hikaru inquires to the room.

"He was looking forward to this the most." Kaoru recalls.

Grumbling, Haruhi is less than happy about knowing the answer to that, "Our King is lounging in Music Room #3. He's entertaining Lady Éclair."

You sigh heavily with frustration, pulling out the only empty seat available, across from Kyoya.

"Well, well, well."

"It sounds like someone's a little jealous." The twins are back to their prying antics. Mori and Honey nod in agreement.

Unbeknownst to you, Kyoya reaches a hand across the table and brushes his hand against yours. You jump out of your skin, yelping.

"Is something wrong?"

You feel immense guilt pile onto your shoulders all at once. Your lip trembles before you clear your throat, hardly offering him a sheepish simper, "Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?"

Kyoya cocks a brow, "You seem a little down."

"Just missing Tamaki, is all." You shrug. Kyoya hums. He's not entirely convinced.

"You said it yourself, Kyoya-Senpai. He's impulsive." Haruhi suddenly drags Kyoya into their conversation; your saving grace.

"Tamaki is impulsive, Haruhi, but he's following orders given to him by his grandmother." You remind, features solemn. Haruhi turns away slightly, reminiscing on just what his grandmother had said.

"Um, you know, now that I think about it, Tamaki-Senpai's grandmother seemed really cold toward him earlier. Is there some special reason for that?"

You sit up, raising your chin from your hands. You and the rest of the Host Club exchange apprehensive glances. Yours and Kyoya's eyes meet briefly.

"Well, everyone else knows about it." Hikaru shrugs.

You glance up at here where she stands, "Um... Tamaki's an illegitimate child." You timidly inform.

Haruhi gasps, baffled. Hikaru begins to spin his tale.

"Twenty some-odd years ago, the Suoh Family patriarch died at a young age. For political reasons, Chairman Yuzuru was rushed into a marriage at the behest of his mother to a woman of her choosing. That's how he became head of the family. But several years later, the chairman fell passionately in love with a beautiful young woman he met in Paris."

You adjust your position in your seat, "Not long after that, Tamaki was born." You continue.

"No, Mother. I'm leaving my wife. I'm going to marry her."

"The boss's grandmother vehemently objected. Because of her poor health, living in Japan proved too difficult for Senpai's mother, and so she raised him in France until he was fourteen. His childhood seems to have been a happy one. But as time wore on, the family business on his mother's side went belly up, and when they were forced into debt-"

"- The boss's grandmother, worried about there being no heir to carry on the family name, came up with a proposal."

"I will provide you with the means to live comfortably for the rest of your days. In exchange, Tamaki is to come and live with me in Japan. Without you. All contact between the two of you will be prohibited forever. These conditions are non-negotiable."

Haruhi sits dumbfounded at the side of the indoor fountain. You and Kyoya have migrated to a sofa while the rest of the club stands around her.

"Wow..."

"The current patriarch may be Chairman Yuzuru Suoh technically, but for the time being, all the family's assets remain under the control of Tamaki's grandmother." Kyoya adds.

"Even then, his mother's health is so fragile, Tamaki was very aware of the fate that she faced if she were left by to live in debt, even with him." You prop your chin up on your arm.

"So..."

"I've decided... I'm going to go to Japan. It's all for the best. Just promise me, Mom. Promise me you'll take care."

"Not long afterward, either out of anguish or just plain guilt over having bartered her son away for financial security, Tamaki's mother left France in shame and went into hiding. Her current whereabouts are unknown. To this day, he's never seen her again. Not once."

With all that you've been through today, you can feel your throat close up at the mere story, lip nearly visibly trembling.

Haruhi's head hangs shamefully. Throughout the entire time she's been in the club, she's never once considered his childhood. It's strangely reminiscent of her own, having lost her own mother at a young age.

Kyoya stands to his feet with a fond smile. You follow him with your eyes, "It's easy to feel sorry for him. But the hardships that he endured as a child helped mold him into the person he is today."

"He'll be fine. The Host Club is his refuge, which means when all is said and done, he still has us."

Your heart cracks in two, reaching for Kyoya's sleeve, "Kyoya. I have to tell you something."

He hums expectantly. You seem to have gained all eyes on both of you.

"I-"

The doors are thrown open before you can even begin. The Host Club is completely distracted away from whatever you had to say, and so are you.

Honey gasps, "Tama-chan!" He exclaims.

Tamaki's fringe covers his eyes, but his mouth does not move. Something is off; you can feel the tension forming in this very room.

"Everyone, I have an important announcement." His tone is foreign. Never have any of you heard such seriousness in his voice.

You all stand directly below him at the bottom of the staircase, patiently awaiting his aforementioned announcement.

"As of today, Lady Éclair Tonnerre and I are officially engaged. Furthermore, the Host Club will be permanently dissolved after the Ouran Fair. That is all."

Suddenly, your news seems insignificant in light of recent events.

🎵I run and run a thousand miles, and I am barely breathing. Only the fuel of a passionate heart keeps this body strong and moving forward.

Could it be I found a place to rest? How far until I’m OK?

Trees of the town reveal the time has come once again to shift our shade and colors. 🎵

🎵The world always changes around us but weakness will always remain;

Through all the pain, believe in who we are right here and now! 🎵

🎵Raise one hand to the sky; raise them both lift them high!!

And you’ll cut through the darkness make it go!

The time to start is now! And I can show you how.

Start with me, and the world will be even bigger than ever before. 🎵

♡Next time, on Indeed...♡

There's no easy way to say this... but you and Tamaki seem to be leaving the Host Club for good. Just like that, you're gone. That is, until a certain pair steps in and declares what they've been feeling all along...

♡We'll see you then!! ♡

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

and here's my bts blog💜

want me to write something you want to see? request something💌

have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

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