#and we stayed in each other’s lives in some way all this time

[pascaloverx]

SHAMELESS

Summary: You are moving into the Leister mansion after tragically losing your father in a plane crash. He worked for William Leister, who immediately offered to take you in. The problem? His son, Nick Leister, who is far from pleased about having a stranger living under his roof.

Author's Note: My slight fixation on Matthew Broome led me to create this fanfic, but I can’t guarantee it will be good. So, dear reader, if you enjoy it, please interact and comment. The fanfic will likely contain strong language, violence, and adult content. Minors should not engage with it.

ONE

It's like a fairy tale—a young, poor woman turning into the new Cinderella. At least, that's what the media is saying. But that’s not exactly what’s happening in your life.

Your father spent his life working for William Leister. During a business trip, the plane he was on crashed, leaving no survivors. You had just started college and taken a part-time job to help your father pay the tuition. And now, you don’t even know what to do.

Well, actually, you do. You’re packing your bags to move in with your father’s former boss. He feels guilty, even if he won’t admit it, and decided to invite you to live with him and his son. So now, you’re leaving the house you grew up in to step into what the internet is calling a princess’s life.

They even sent a car to pick you up, which feels quite fancy. You still can’t believe the size of the place you’ll be living in—in fact, you feel almost out of place.

"I hope you had a pleasant trip," William says, embracing you gently. His staff carries your bags inside the mansion.

"It was smooth," you reply, following William inside his home. "With all due respect, sir, your house—or rather, your mansion—is truly enchanting," you say, marveling at everything around you.

"There’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ Just William is fine. Now, my house is quite large, and unfortunately, I’m running late for a charity event. It won’t take long, but I’m sure Nick will show you around," Mr. Leister says as he adjusts his suit and tie.

You feel a bit uneasy about relying on his son, but you nod in agreement and watch as he leaves the mansion, a bouquet of flowers in his hands—probably for a date.

"Are you planning to just stand by the door?" A male voice speaks from behind you. Surprised, you turn around.

"Not at all, but I fail to see how that’s any of your concern," you reply, still standing in place. It might have sounded rude, but he doesn’t seem too pleased either.

"Some might say that since you’re in my house, you could be a bit more polite," Nick says as he descends the stairs, his gaze fixed on you.

"If this is your way of saying you want me gone, you don’t have to say it twice," you retort, turning to grab your suitcase and leave. It might be a bit drastic, but you’re not about to be humiliated by some rich boy.

Before you can go upstairs to get your bags, however, Nick catches your arm—not forcefully, despite his muscular build, but just enough to stop you. The closeness between you is enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. He, however, is clearly staring at your lips.

"You’re a guest of my father. It wouldn’t be right for me to make you leave. If anyone should leave, it’s me," Nick says, his eyes studying you, while you’re too focused on the proximity between you to say anything.

"Perhaps we should try not to get on each other’s nerves… at least for a while," you whisper, leaning in slightly. The tension is palpable, as if the two of you are trying to read each other through your gaze.

"We’ll see what the future holds," Nick replies before finishing his descent. "Oh, in case my father didn’t mention it, I don’t usually stay here overnight," he adds with a smirk, leaving you wondering what you’re supposed to do alone in this place.

"And I’m supposed to stay here all by myself?" you ask, surprised—or maybe indignant. Not that you need a babysitter, but you don’t even know where anything is.

"If you’d rather, you can come with me. But preferably, I think you’ll want to stay here—it’s safer," he says, sounding like some secret agent or mobster.

"I suppose I’ll have to go just to see how much danger I can handle," you reply, stepping closer and looking him in the eye, your faces mere inches apart.

"If you say so," he mutters, feigning disinterest.

"Your father said you’d show me the mansion," you remind him. You’re certain he won’t want to, but you can at least try.

"I think you’ll manage to find your way around. But if you do get lost, you can call my name—whether I answer or not, we’ll see," he says smugly before walking away, leaving you standing there.

[watchinglikeafangirl]

Why I stayed for FadelStyle

I know, many of us started Heart Killers because of FirstKhao but actually stayed for JoongDunk. I wasn't invested in JoongDunk before, I watched "star in my mind" and of course "hidden agenda". I liked them in "hidden agenda" but something about FirstKhao feels different. They have a different vibe on camera, so I was excited to see them again. And yes, I was very pleasantly surprised to see JoongDunk as well, because I didn't think they would star in a show as mature as this one. But I'm very glad they did.

Fadel and Style's romance feels somewhat natural. Dunk playing a very loud and flirty character really suits him and Joong playing a character who is flustered by him all the time is just a very good match.

The most interesting thing is, I didn't buy Fadel and Style's romance until episode 6.

While Kant and Bison seem to be falling fast while leaving a bitter taste, Fadel and Style fall at their own pace and make each other better. The difference is, Kant and Bison are the same characters from start to finish, the only difference is they are boyfriends in the end. I don't see much growth or change in them. Kant starts this whole relationship under false intentions and there isn't a specific moment when it's shown he really fell for Bison. Not until Bison gets stabbed and then they are on that island and suddenly there are deep love confessions. It's like they skipped all the steps and just landed at the very end. And it's not just Kant, we don't know when Bison actually fell for Kant. Because Bison seems to love the idea of Kant and what Kant stands for. For Bison, Kant is freedom, a fresh start, but when did Bison actually develop feelings that go much further and deeper than that? We don't see it, there is not a moment when I knew.

Episode 6 is my favourite episode, I think it's the best one. The plot is there, the pacing is exactly right, the characters and their relationships get more depth. It marks the moment I realized Fadel fell hard and Style lives on cloud nine. There is a specific scene, I could rewatch it over and over because it is soo good. The thing with Fadel and Style is, they change each other for the better. They are not the same people in episode 12, they both found completion, they found inner peace with themselves. And it's all there when Fadel and Style go out to this metal concert to have fun for the last time. Before shit goes down, before Style wants Fadel to stay over, before Fadel cries. It's when Style convinces Fadel to put on some make-up as well.

"Try just being someone you want to be. We'll do it together. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Because even if Style wouldn't know about Fadel, this scene in itself means so much. And Fadel's look when Style says those words... He found someone who accepts him, everything, and he is not judged, Style is not scared, he embraces their love. I was on the verge of tears. It's a very genuine and sincere scene. That's when I knew, Style was really all in and there was no way back for him.

And of course, we can't talk about FadelStyle without mentioning the dance in the burger joint. Because that is when everybody could see how deep Fadel fell, how lost he felt when he found out it was a lie. He didn't have anything to lose any more because it already felt like dying. So he confesses and cries in silence so Style wouldn't know. I talked about this scene in depth, right here. It's when I knew there is no going back to how things were.

In episode 8, there is a very confusing scene - the editing is weird. It's when Fadel and Style sleep at the motel and Style starts crying. Because this scene is not quiet in any second, there's some comedic background music when Style starts talking, as if he's fake crying. But the things he says are very true. And then the music shifts to some sad piano and he starts crying for real. It's like, did he try to cover up his sadness with humour until he actually cried? It would make sense for his characters but the editing is so weird.

"Are you crying?"

The way Fadel asks so softly. It's the moment we really know, he will never kill Style. Until this point, I wasn't 100% sure but after he showed his concern, I was no longer afraid of some tragedy.

The scene I felt deeply and a scene that still lingers in my head. The song I keep listening to. It's episode 10. Of course it is. But honestly, I can't stress this enough. Fadel and Style have reached a point in their relationship that goes far deeper than a love confession. Because Fadel shows emotions he doesn't even show to himself. It's his darkest moment, his most pathetic feeling, his ugliest cry. But Style stays with him, because of course he does. Style doesn't say "I love you" very often because it's not something that needs to be said all the time. He just shows everything. He holds Fadel, he reassures him, he stays. And Fadel cries on his lap. It's worth more than any words. And it's why I could no longer root for Kant and Bison. Because they keep saying they love each other while there is no depth. Kant just tries to make a fire to make food but that's no deep connection. That's just childish and doesn't mean anything when it comes to their relationship. It's like the writers missed opportunities, we never get to see Kant and Bison bond. Do they ever talk about things that matter? About how they felt? They talk about grief for 10 seconds but that's it They are just together and they love each other, just because. Because the story needs them to. While Fadel and Style actually share emotions, they matter to each other, they try to live with each other.

Let me tell you, I am obsessed with the way Fadel becomes physically attatched to Style after episode 10. He hugs and sniffs Style like five times after that and I am living for it. It's the most relatable and lovely guesture.

Soooo, let's talk episode 12 because if somebody would ever do something for me like that, I'm gonna cry, faint, laugh, die - I don't know. Because what do you mean Style bought Fadel's burger joint back? What do you mean it's now their restaurant? What do you mean he already planned their future together? No one can put into words how much this guesture means. It's overwhelmingly a lot of love. It's just kinda funny to me how Fadel handles it because he doesn't seem to be THAT surprised. I was shocked, words mean nothing, it's just so much. I want to find a love like that.

I always thought Style saved Fadel but now I think, they just saved each other. Because even if Style is the one who did that grand guesture and even if Style is the one who started to initiate most moments, he was lost too. They made each other less lonely. They have a grave together. Their story is epic.

I recommend this video. It sums up why FadelStyle felt more real and why everyone rooted for them instead of KantBison.

[kumkaniudaku]

Finals

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 7.8k

MASTERLIST

Asia felt like home. 

When he was 21 and standing in a line of his sister's bridesmaids listening to her tie the knot in front of God, family, and friends, he heard his new brother-in-law say the phrase in his vows. Melody feels like home. At the time, Kelvin thought it was made up mushy bullshit you say to fluff up dramatic speeches. His jaded heart was fresh off another half-assed attempt at a relationship and felt like love, let alone marriage, was all a sham. It didn't exist. No one was meant to find one person and devote a portion of their lives to staying together. Especially not him. 

Each time love came knocking, he'd open his heart for quick formalities and empty gestures but never let the emotion stick around too long. He wasn't looking for a long-term house guest or anything concrete to keep him stuck in one place for too long. Temporary arrangements as he floated from city to city looking for elusive satisfaction kept him detached enough. Never get too comfortable. Adapt to keep the peace. Play the game. Rinse. Move. Repeat. 

Then, love visited on a rainy Friday night at a grungy bar bearing housewarming gifts. Two dazzling brown eyes brightened up the place. A pretty smile added some warmth to his cold nights alone. A shared love for 90s sitcoms put color on once-blank emotional walls. An off-kilter sense of humor added permanent laughter to a heart that had only known the sound in spurts. Asia turned his house into a home. Finally, he understood what his brother-in-law meant on that warm summer afternoon. 

Part of Kelvin wanted to call Damian and thank him for giving him language to understand his feelings. Most of him, the part that would miss Asia's back rise and fall in bed beside him as city lights streamed through his bedroom window, just wanted to enjoy the time left in their unlikely fairytale. 

They made a promise to ease out of their short-lived relationship at dinner on Valentine's Day. After an awkward first course colored by silence and timid glances, Kelvin broached the topic with a joke about the server's pompous faux-Italian accent. 

"Little by little," He offered as a solution to the disorienting whiplash of a swift, clean break when the very nature of their time together was fast and furious. "We got four weeks to make a move. No need to rush." 

No rush yielded no forward progress in two weeks. Asia's fluffy turquoise towels still mixed with his black set on laundry day. Her favorite mug hadn't left its home near all the others in the cupboard. She still hadn't emptied her drawer in the bathroom or at the top of his dresser. And, at night, when the world crept to a stop, Asia still crawled into bed next to Kelvin to rest. 

So much for creating separation. 

With fourteen days left to get it right, Kelvin watched Asia mix and mingle in a crowd of his favorite current and former coworkers, trying and failing to find an easy way to restart a necessary process. 

News of Kelvin's departure brought out a small start-up payroll worth of people to wish him well in his next chapter. Asia had tricked him into showing up, lying about Ty and the gang wanting to catch up, only to walk him into a surprise party full of familiar faces. He did his due diligence to shake every hand and smile for every picture until the thrill of seeing everyone wore off and sent him into a corner to observe.

Applause in the private back room of a downtown pizzeria pulled his attention away from Asia nursing a cocktail across the way to focus on Savannah commanding the room with her glass in the air. 

"Where's Kel," she shouted, craning her neck until she spotted him alone. "Kel! Come over here! It's time for a toast!"

All eyes fell on him and his awkward shuffle to the front of the room. Asia straightened from her slouched seated position, watching for any signs of discomfort. Three weeks ago, she would've joined him. Second nature would've pulled her away from the plush velvet stool at the bar to stand by his side while a room full of people waited for him to deliver some witty banter and heartfelt remarks. Now, though, she forced herself to avoid Savannah's eye contact silently begging her to come take her rightful place. 

Kelvin chuckled at the swell of voices chanting, 'Speech! Speech! Speech!' before finally giving in to the noise. "Uh, shit," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "If this is, like, a primer for my funeral, I'm not doin' that bad, I guess." Pockets of low laughter rippled throughout the crowd, settling into silence as he continued. "This last couple weeks have been tough, I'm not gonna lie. Out of all the places I've been and people I've met, you guys and this city have made the biggest impression on me. So, thanks for that."  

Stiff whiskey left a bite on Asia's tongue as she threw back the last of her drink and raised her hand for another. In fourteen days, she vowed to turn over a new leaf and leave her old friend alcohol behind. Tonight, she needed all she could safely get.

"I'm trying to…I don't know…come to terms with the end. It's tough. I love this place, you know? I love a lot of y'all." As a chorus of 'awws' broke out, Kelvin looked over at Asia, swearing he could see a thin veil of tears coating her eyes under the neon sign above her head. She offered a half smile before looking down at her knees. "Anyway, this is probably the coolest a lot of your lives will get, and for that, I'm sure you're grateful. If you're ever in Chicago, come have a beer with me. Your treat because more pay means more taxes. Drink, y'all!" 

Asia let out a genuine laugh as she sipped her second glass of amber liquid along with the group, more focused on keeping tears at bay than the familiar voice calling her name. 

Savannah cupped her hands around her mouth to shout across the room again. "Asia, c'mon! Speech!" 

The request and 30 people eyeing her with varying levels of curiosity caught her off guard. Asia looked to Ty, Chris, and Sid for an out but found none outside of Ty instructing her to lift her head and walk. 

Shaking hands found a home on her cold glass, mixing sweat with condensation as she slowly approached Kelvin's side. He tried to offer sympathy in the form of a closed-mouth smile once she was close enough to see him. Muscle memory or plain 'ol fear compelled Asia to reach for his hand, and without thinking, Kelvin threaded his fingers into the gaps between hers and then squeezed. I'm with you. The non-verbal reassurance nearly made her weep in front of strangers before she could speak. 

"Raise your hand if you've been victimized by Savannah Reese." Every joke had some truth to it, evidenced by the hands Asia watched shoot up from the crowd. Her laughter invited others to join in on Savannah's light humiliation. "I'm glad I'm not alone," Asia laughed. 

Savannah waved everyone off. "Whatever. You people need discipline. Say thank you!" 

"Thanks, Sav. We all love you in like a sick, loving your mean older sister way," Asia joked. "First, I guess I'll say thanks to all of you for coming. Most of you don't know who I am, but that's okay. I'm not the important one here. It's Kelvin. Or Kel. I heard some of you even called him KJ at some point. A lot of variation in there." 

"I hated KJ, by the way. I'm leaving, so I can say that now. Still love you, though." 

Asia laughed at Kelvin's interjection along with the group. She looked over at him, letting her small fade into a more wistful version of itself. "I've had the pleasure of knowing Kelvin as a lot of things over this last year or so. But, I think my favorite version of him is friend. He was the first person to say hi to me when I started. He's opened me up to new things I never thought I'd get to experience and challenged me in ways I would've never thought to ask for. So, thank you." 

Ty clasped his hands at his chest, leaning into Sidney's embrace while the group watched Asia and Kelvin exchange looks of adoration. Kelvin mouthed you're welcome back at her and leaned in to kiss her forehead without regard for who was watching. He was running out of opportunities to feel her skin against his lips and would take whatever bottom of the barrel oppportunities still existed. 

"I'm sure we all have a ton to thank Kel for. Whether it was pulling an award-winning idea out of his ass in the 11th hour or flirting with a client to buy us all some time, we owe this guy a lot. So, if you don't mind, get those glasses in the air and join me in a little toast," Asia instructed. She waited for the group to follow suit, then continued. "Good luck out there in the world, Kel. You're more than ready and deserving of what's coming to you. We all love you so much. Cheers." 

Asia couldn't bring herself to stick around for compliments on her speech or the hug Kelvin tried to prolong. She needed to hustle into the lady's room and prepare for the other side of her mouth-watering from an unsavory mix of grief and Bulleit Rye. Her heels clicked across shiny tile into the emptiest room in the building, unknowingly drawing a crowd of one trailing behind. 

Savannah slipped into the bathroom behind Asia before quietly sealing out the rest of the world with the lock's quiet click. "You okay?" 

"No," Asia answered, no longer interested in keeping up appearances. "I will be. Just…not right now." 

A sympathetic look passed between the two of them, turning words into nothing more than frivolous accessories to fill the silence. Savannah scooched past Asia to lift her body onto the countertop and patted the empty space next to her. Too tired to object, Asia did the same. They sat together in silence for several moments until Savannah cracked the seal.

"Who got cold feet first, you or him?" She asked without looking over at Asia.

"I did," Asia mumbled. "Less cold feet, I just… slipped into some old habits he shouldn't have to see me through. Kelvin had become my sun, and I was starting to orbit out of control. It might be hard to tell, but I've never done all this before," she explained as she aimlessly gestured around them. "I don't know. I should've taken a second to stop and think about who I am and what I wanted from a relationship long before this happened, but I just kept pushing it away until the universe made me confront myself. It's not his fault, though. Kelvin was perfect. I'll put it all on me."

Savannah nodded. "Sometimes we fuck up. It doesn't have to be the end of the world." 

"Not all the time. This time for sure, though. Pretty sure I fucked this up to the point of no return. No more lives. I lose. Thanks for playing." Asia laughed, but the humor in the whole ordeal was still elusive. 

"Can't you restart a game from the beginning after you learn something new, though?" Nonsensical circular reasoning drew a side eye from Asia, making Savannah double over with laughter. "I'm only sayin'! You know how many Candy Crush levels I've had to take a break from until I passed? Sometimes you don't always get shit right on the first try. You'll figure this out and move on to a new level. Then you'll figure that one out too. Even if it takes you a little extra time." 

Asia nodded along, seeing some of Savannah's logic as she mulled over the words. "Sure," she finally answered. A question she'd been pondering for a while paused all thought. "Can I ask why you care so much? In the kindest way possible?" 

"I don't know," Savannah answered with a shrug. I think I missed my chance at love trying to chase perfection, and I've been tasked with saving others from a similar fate to appease the gods," she laughed to herself. "Plus, I see the way he looks at you. No one should miss that over a timing issue. The universe isn't that cruel. At least, I don't think so." 

"Yeah," Asia half-heartedly agreed. "Me neither. I think." 

Maybe it wasn't. Maybe the universe had other plans far beyond Asia's feeble comprehension. Maybe she'd fall asleep in Kelvin's bed, smelling the musk of his cologne, with his back touching hers as dreams took over her daily thoughts and woke her up to a new lease on life. 

The sun rose to nothing of the sort. No amount of prayer or late-night notes app journaling could change her mind. If she continued to follow old patterns, any happiness she sought to obtain would crash and burn into nothing. 

She knew it, and as a fitful sleep stirred Kelvin awake, he knew it, too. If not by her forlorn expression when he looked over to find her quietly sifting through black and turquoise towels, then by the two empty drawers once housing her things. 

Kelvin opened and closed the first bathroom drawer twice, knowing the truth but still having difficulty processing it. 

Asia stepped into the room behind him and softly cleared her throat. "Thought maybe it was time to start moving things." Kelvin turned to look at her, finally taking stock of her tired red eyes hidden behind the blue light glasses he'd gifted. "I'm not running away. I promise. But -" 

"Yeah, no. I…I get it. It's okay. You need a box?" He started to rifle through cabinets under the sink, trying to make himself useful without listening to Asia's objections. 

"Kel…Kelvin." Neither variation of his name received so much as a glance in her direction. She signed. "Baby…" That one did the trick. Kelvin stilled before standing up to acknowledge her voice. "It's okay. I found one already. It's all packed." 

He nodded. "Oh. Um…cool. I guess that's it then." 

His last words in her direction echoed in Asia's head once she returned to her apartment for the first time in weeks. The space felt cold and foreign, devoid of all the spark that made returning to her own space after a long day worth it. 

Asia trudged to her bedroom to drop off her belongings, only to find herself standing in the center of the room, feeling empty. Her bed hadn't seen her since she'd trusted Kelvin to help her shed fictional purity without judgment or ridicule. If she closed her eyes hard enough, she could still see the way he looked at her and feel his fingertips lightly tracing her hips while he coaxed her body to new heights. 

Climbing into bed, still clothed in her favorite of Kelvin's old t-shirts, Asia curled herself around a pillow on his unofficial side of the bed and cried. She cried until Saturday afternoon turned into Saturday night. Then she cried some more into half-eaten lo mein while a reality TV dating show played in the background. She cried when Sabrina called to check in on a 911 in their message thread, holding her friend hostage to witness a complete meltdown before swearing she didn't need a visit. She just needed time. 

Crying became Asia's default setting for the weekend. Then, cries turned into a light misting in a bathroom stall by Tuesday when seeing Kelvin's empty desk reminded her that he was, in fact, not coming to walk to lunch with her. On Wednesday, she only felt sadness from a calendar invite about their one-month anniversary. The thing she found absolutely ridiculous quickly became a reminder of what she'd given up. By Thursday, she'd learned to compartmentalize and push forward despite constant conversation with Kelvin arranging a final opportunity to see him off to those greener pastures they'd discussed weeks ago. 

Friday brought the storm. Just when Asia thought she'd returned to homeostasis, a bottle of red wine unlocked a new well of tears she didn't know she'd been holding. 

Sabrina sat beside her on the couch, acting as a support beam to hold Asia's crumpling body upright while she sobbed into her friend's shoulder. As much as she wanted to support her friend through her first breakup, Sabrina couldn't let Asia pass without a little tough love. 

While Asia poured her heart out without interruption, Sabrina waited for an opportunity to provide much-needed clarity.  

"I miss him already," Asia cried into Sabrina's shoulder. "I know it's crazy because I made the decision, but I don't know. I just wish he was here right now. What if I fucked up? Do you think I fucked up? Tell me if I fucked up." No answer came, grabbing Asia's attention long enough to lift her head and look in Sabrina's direction. "Are you ignoring me?"

Sabrina chuckled. "I'm just confused by you, girl, that's all. First, you're telling me you have to leave him because you need to find yourself, and now you're wondering if that was the right decision. I love you, but we have to settle somewhere, friend." 

"I'm grieving right now!" Asia's exasperation pulled an infectious belly laugh from Sabrina that quickly spread to a full-on cackle once she got a glimpse of Asia's face contorted in a mix of confusion and frustration. "What's so funny, 'Brina? Please, tell me so I can laugh too." 

If not for the clear and present anger underscoring Asia's line of questioning, Sabrina might've laughed for the entire night. She fought to reign in her chuckling before answering. "Can we be for real tonight, Asia? Like really, so for real?" Asia folded her arms and craned her neck to dramatically showcase rising annoyance. Sabrina waved her off, undeterred by childish antics. "A, why are you really breaking things off? Answer honestly." 

"Because I could see myself falling into old habits. You saw me when I fell hard last time. His whole life took over mine," Asia answered, practically jumping off the couch to make her point. 

Sabrina nodded along. "And I get that! Shit, I applaud the pattern recognition. Good on you, sister! But, if it's that, why are you so worried you made the wrong decision?" She watched Asia's eyes dart off to some other place in the room, knowing her point had been made. "Is this only about your growth as a woman, or can you look me in my face right now and admit you're at least a little afraid of what that man was giving you?" 

"I don't know what you're talkin' about." 

"Yes, you do," Sabrina answered after kissing her teeth. "Be real with me, Asia. You were afraid of the possibility of really devoting yourself, saw the old habits arising, and used the last part as a way to run away from the first. Now, you're afraid this might've been your only shot. Tell me I'm wrong!" 

Denial gave way to guilt. "You're not wrong," Asia finally grumbled. 

"I know I'm not, but thank you for the confirmation." Scooting closer, Sabrina pulled Asia into a side hug and squeezed softly. "Fear kept me doin' the same stupid shit over and over. Don't let it dictate your future like it did mine for so long, girl. Do your thing. Go out in the world and learn who Asia is if that's what you really need to do for yourself. But don't use that as an excuse to get out of going through something a little difficult. Either do the hard thing now and take the chance with no regrets and no blame, or leave that man alone and let him go find someone willing to put in the work. But don't keep him in that back and forth. That's not fair after all he's been to you." 

Defiance told Asia to buck Sabrina's advice and continue as planned. She still had time to call Kelvin, push through her discomforts, and deal with a Chicago winter if he felt inclined to take her back. But defiance had never gotten her hard head anywhere but stuck between a rock and a hard place with a soft ass. Facts had to overrule feelings, no matter the emotions tugging her heartstrings raw. 

Asia huffed in resolute defeat, knowing her decision to look within came with a heavy price before light presented itself at the end of the tunnel. Though the thought of him falling in love with someone else hurt like hell, the weight of what could happen if she ignored unmet needs felt like hell on Earth. "I miss fun Sabrina. Get out of therapy. Now!" Asia joked. "This fuckin' sucks, by the way. I know I'll be better for it in the long run, but I hate it right now." 

"Hate it all you want, baby girl. Such is life," Sabrina sang, dragging the last word as she stood from the couch. "Matter of fact, let's talk about how much we hate it over sushi. Eat those feelings before we get in the gym tomorrow morning."

Asia scrunched her face as she tracked Sabrina across the room. "Who said we were going to the gym?"

"Bitch, we are rediscovering ourselves together! Starting with the stairmaster and ending at the squat rack. Whether Lover Boy is in the picture or not, we must keep these asses tight. I have 31st birthday plans, and you've been getting cracked like a glow stick for so long that you're missing sessions. If we gone break up to get it right, do it for real!" 

Trudging toward her apartment's front door, Asia stopped at the entryway mirror to slide on her shoes and get a look at her ass for the first time in weeks. She winced at lost gains and poked at softening thighs. Confirmation if she'd ever seen it.

She sighed and pulled her crossbody from the hook before unlocking the door. "I'm eating my weight in spicy tuna tonight and we're back on top of things in the morning. Swear." 

Plans for weight room therapy were a far cry from the endless tasks on Kelvin's to-do list. He'd spent the better part of a week pushing Asia as far back in his mind as reasonably possible, constantly battling the desire to call or text for fear he'd change his mind at the last moment. Chicago was a good thing. It was a stepping stone. And if she wasn't willing to undertake the challenge with him, then so be it. He'd get over this breakup like the last one. No sweat off his brow. 

In a crowded barbershop packed with a dozen grown men shouting their way through another greatest rapper alive debate, Kelvin used his time to scroll up and down a mostly empty text thread and reread past messages full of sappy sentiments he thought would last longer than a few weeks. 

Brandon took liberties from his position behind his most frequent client, peaking over Kelvin's shoulder to get a look at what had his boy so occupied. "I should charge you more for using your last haircut to do this lovesick shit you been doin' for the last 10 minutes. C'mon, man. Tighten up. You moving to Chicago and getting white folks money. Pipe up, man!" 

"Yeah, I guess," Kelvin answered before locking his phone screen and sliding the phone back beneath the barber's cape draping his torso.

"You feel ready," Brandon questioned. "You fly out in a couple days, right?"

Kelvin hummed his confirmation. "Saturday afternoon. The movers come to get my stuff in the morning, and then I'm in the air. Shit kinda feels fake, I'm not gon' lie. This wasn't how I expected things to go."

"What you expected?" 

"To still be in a relationship for one," Kelvin answered, huffing out a laugh at his own misfortune. "I thought Asia was it, man. If you asked me to tell you what went wrong right now, I couldn't. There I was thinking shit was finally different, and it all blew up in my face." 

Brandon shook his head, still examining his work over his glasses. "She say why?" 

"Something about needing to go find herself. Which I get, I guess. But, fuck, we couldn't go through it together? I felt like I took the conversation in stride when it first came up, but the more I think about the shit, the more I'm fuckin' pissed about it." Anger radiated off Kelvin's body, turning his neck so hot Brandon could hold his hands at the nape for warmth to shield him from the draft as the shop's door opened and closed. Kelvin's hands emerged from behind the robe to help him work through his point. "She said she was making my needs more important than hers, but I never asked her to do that. I never once tried to convince her to do anything she didn't wanna do. Why is she punishing me for some shit she did?" 

"Maybe it don't have anything to do with you," Brandon commented without much fanfare. 

Kelvin scoffed, not taking much stock in his friend's rebuttal. "She was scared. I was scared, too, but I was willing to figure it out. The distance, the falling in love, all of that. We were supposed to figure it out." 

"Give that girl some space, man." 

"Damn, nigga. Are we not cool or what? Take my side!" Kelvin caught Brandon throwing his hands up in surrender from the corner of his eye and frowned. Of all the people, he expected total agreeance from his good friend and former roommate.

Chuckling, Brandon tilted Kelvin's head sideways for a better view. "You know how you get man. Don't act like that," he rebutted. "You like to dive right into shit just as quick as you like to jump out of it. And that's cool, but not everybody is like that. Sometimes it's too much."  

"I'm not gonna take offense to that and ask you to elaborate. Keep in mind, your tip is on the line." Kelvin's caution came with a cheeky grin as Brandon kissed his teeth. 

"I'm just sayin', man. Think about how she comin' into the situation. From what you told me, she was new to a lot of this. When you new, you don't know what you don't know. Maybe this don't have anything to do with you. She might really have to go figure shit out on her own. If you love her, you gotta let her live, bro." Sage advice from Brandon was like witnessing the Nothern Lights or Halley's Comet with your own two eyes. Kelvin tried to listen objectively as his barber continued. "Don't feel like you gotta wait for her. Live your life by all means. But maybe think about doin' some discovery of your own. I'm sure you got some shit you need to work through." 

Information overload turned Kelvin's self-centered ramblings into a barely audible whisper in the back of his mind, giving Brandon's provocation center stage. Self-discovery was a foreign concept. Much of his adult life revolved around running. Running from state to state, searching for a new meaning and a fresh start, running from past versions of himself who didn't quite make the cut, and running from women when casual became too serious and expectations felt like burdens. When he backed away from a few souls looking for connection, he frequently cited bullshit lines about needing to find himself without remorse. 

Now, on the other side of the tearful conversation and harsh realities, years of bad behavior had caught up to deal him a lesson he hadn't expected to learn. At least Asia was honest. That much Kelvin could tell. He couldn't boast the same. 

"Got you stuck, huh. Go ahead up that tip, my boy." Brandon's taunting didn't go unrecognized, earning a small smile from Kelvin. 

He closed his eyes to avoid hair debris and smirked. "I'm not tipping you. I ain't even ask for your advice. You never said shit worth hearing." 

"Yeah, well, hear this if you don't hear nothing else: I'm proud of you, man. At the end of the day, you my brother and I want you to be happy. Whether it's in Chicago with ol' girl or some other way, know you got somebody in your corner." 

Kelvin's teasing smirk slowly morphed into a genuine smile. "Damn, bro, that was nice. Thank you, man." 

"Did I get the tip back?" 

"Fuck no," Kelvin laughed, the sound growing louder once her heard Brandon kiss his teeth. "Keep talkin' though, and see where I'm at when you pass that mirror around." 

Brandon prematurely doused the back of Kelvin's neck in alcohol to revel in watching his shoulders draw up to his ears in pain. "I'm always gone have my get back. Plus, I started including the tip in your price. I know how you down South niggas get down." 

Kelvin continued contemplating what he'd heard as the conversation bobbed and weaved into topics of far less importance. His fingers moved without his mind's input to type out a message he wanted to delete but couldn't find the heart to follow through. A few simple words graced a blue text bubble, waiting for a response. 

Can I get your help packing up a few things tomorrow night? It won't take long and I kinda wanna talk if that's cool. 

He'd prepared himself for radio silence or a simple rejection, but the phone's vibration tingled his hand within minutes. 

Pretty Girl 💖💚 Sure. Time?

They settled on 7 pm. Kelvin swore he read somewhere that finishing tasks early in the evening provided a sense of accomplishment to launch you into the weekend. Or maybe he'd confused that information with his made-up theory around day drinking on Fridays to avoid paying for drinks when he hit the bar in the evenings. Either way, he hoped they'd complete their tasks and talk in enough time to mosey down to his favorite spot and spend time saying goodbye to the regulars. 

A set of knuckles rapped against the door just after 7:15 pm, pulling Kelvin away from organizing items into keep and throw-away piles to usher his guest of honor inside. He expected more fanfare when they came face to face for some reason. Tears, maybe? Anger? A smack in the face for blatantly requesting her labor as a thinly veiled attempt at one last interaction? Any and every reaction was in play. Instead, they fell into chipper banter and light joking while working side by side to return a once lively apartment back to showroom prestige. 

"You know Linda in accounting misses you, right?" Asia informed, her attention focused on taping a cardboard box full of shelf trinkets. "I saw her standing at the coffee bar trying to figure out the hot water dispenser for her team. She looked so sad when I asked if she needed help and said you used to help her with that." 

Kelvin poked out his bottom lip. "Aw, my girl. Did she get her tea?" 

"Yeah. Apparently, I'm the new you. She's a very particular lady." Kelvin laughed at Asia's misfortune, knowing all too well how Linda navigated the world when requesting simple favors. 

"If you keep it up, though, she'll have a Christmas present for you. I haven't paid full price for a donut in like 8 months because of her." 

Asia noted the potential benefit with a head nod before pressing a final piece of tape across the decor box's cardboard flaps. All done. She didn't expect the twinge of sadness tightening her chest as she slowly let her eyes sweep across a near-empty room teeming with memories. Seeing it stacked high with labeled boxes momentarily turned her into a young Will Smith taking a final look at the Banks mansion. 

Kelvin watched Asia stand with her hands firmly planted on her hips, taking in the dips and curves of her body under dim track lighting for the last time before joining her side to take stock of his apartment. 

They stood in silence for a few moments until Asia spoke. "Thanks for letting me help. This probably sounds crazy, but it feels like I lived here, too, sometimes. I didn't pay rent or anything, but still." 

"Yeah, but you restocked the orange juice that one time. Same thing." Kelvin's smile grew in time with Asia's when she looked over to laugh at his joke. "It's cool. I appreciate you helping me out. You didn't have to." 

She shrugged. "You would've done the same for me." 

Awkward silence heightened the uneasy static between them as they stared at nothing in particular for an inordinate amount of time. Kelvin pushed his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out to adjust his earring before fidgeting with his nails. Anything to keep his hands and mind busy. But he couldn't stop stealing glances at his first real love. She'd be gone soon. He needed to savor what was left of their time together. 

Force of habit or sheer insanity compelled him to pull Asia into a hug, and, to his surprise, she melted into his embrace with no pushback. They rocked side to side, enjoying how their bodies fit like puzzle pieces destined to create a bigger, more beautiful picture. 

Kelvin crossed his wrists at the small of her back to squeeze tight as he lifted Asia onto her tiptoes. "Thank you for stopping by," he mumbled into the crook of her neck. "Be safe for me, okay? You know you can always call." 

"I know. You too." Asia closed her eyes to inhale Kelvin's scent, hoping the smell would remain seared into her brain for all eternity. 

A slow release and her heels returning to the ground signaled the end of their embrace and life as they knew it. Timid glances as they adjusted their clothes were packed with words they might say one day.

Asia kept her gaze low as she crossed into the kitchen to collect her purse and keys. If her mind wasn't clouded with the nagging sense that things weren't quite complete, she would've dashed out into the night without looking back. 

But her mouth started to move before she could corral her question. "You hungry?" 

"Uh." Kelvin wrestled with his rational mind and his rumbling belly before siding with the latter. "Actually, yeah. I was gonna order out, but if you had something in mind, I'm down." 

Traffic lights and streets empty as real movers and shakers tucked themselves away to prepare for long nights in and out of packed clubs brought them to where it all began. A fitting farewell. 

Calm before a storm of 20 and 30-somethings took the bar, searching for answers at the bottom of a glass, gave Kelvin and Asia access to their favorite booth at the back of the room. Appetizers of every sort covered the small to pair with a pitcher of bottom shelf margarita. Both of them knew it wasn't worth the money it cost, or the headache was sure to follow. The price of a worthwhile goodbye, they thought. 

Salted rims created loose shoulders and looser lips between two people who were too caught up in the moment to part ways so soon. Any trepidation vanished after their first glass. Their second warmed up the senses, shedding more inhibition than they had planned. The results of the third remained to be seen. 

For Kelvin, it meant an impromptu confession hour. After popping a fry into his mouth, he leaned forward and flashed a boyish grin at Asia from across the table. "I wasn't gonna ever tell you this, but fuck it. Before I ran into you over there," he started, pointing over his shoulder at the bar. "I saw you. I'm not gonna say I had an elaborate plan or anything. I just noticed you talking to your girl and knew I had to move fast because it looked like you were leaving." 

"Wooooow! So it wasn't a real meet cute? I thought that night was kismet," Asia joked. 

"Nah, it was. We ended up in the same place at the same time. I just hurried it along. I won't apologize for that because if I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten to know you." They stared at each other, once again finding silence in place of chatter that once came easy. In any other circumstance, Kelvin would've moved on and left well enough alone, paid the bill, and dipped out to save face. He still had one more question, though. One more chance at closure. 

Asia caught him fidgeting with his hands and pointed out his nervous habit. "What? What's wrong?" 

"Do you regret any of this? The messing around, the relationship…any of it?" He shifted his attention to the couple playing darts behind them to keep from losing his nerve. "I just hope I didn't push you into something you didn't want. So, give me the chance to apologize if –" 

Asia cut him off, not allowing him to slide too deep into an apology he didn't need to provide. "I don't regret anything, Kel. Not a single second. Please know that. Can you look at me?" Kelvin nodded before returning his undivided attention to her face. She sighed. "I'm sorry for how I handled things. I shouldn't have blamed you for problems I've had my entire life, and I damn sure shouldn't have waited as long as I did. It was fucked up. I'm so sorry. Whether you forgive me or not, I owe you that much, and I want you to know I'm fixing them." 

Kelvin answered with a half smile. "It was fucked up, but thank you. I tried to be mad at you for three days, but it didn't work, anyway. You're good." More thick and miles long silence greeted them on the other side of resolution. Loud chatter from a group of college students entering the building cut through their wordless standoff while Kelvin mulled over what to say next. He sipped from his drink for liquid courage, then shrugged. "See where I'm at when you're done. I'll be around. My number won't change." 

"I'm not asking you to wait for me." 

"I didn't say I would," He clarified. "If I've moved on, I'll tell you. I'm just letting you know the door isn't closed. When you feel like you're ready, see where I am. Just in case. Don’t call me to fuck around though, Asia. I’m serious."

Asia quickly nodded her agreement. "Yeah, yeah! Of course." A timid smile graced her face under Kelvin's unwavering stare. "Thank you." 

"Mhmm." Kelvin bit back his smile as he took stock of their spread and an almost empty pitcher of evil lime concoction. "Come on and finish this bullshit with me. I'm not about to be hungover by myself. Bottoms up, girl." 

After two burning chests and a bill-splitting argument, Kelvin and Asia found themselves approaching a fork in the road again. He wrapped her in a tight embrace around her shoulders to kiss the top of her head against the driver's side of her small sedan, turning them into two people looking more like young lovers than adults navigating a loss. They'd said their goodbyes but couldn't stomach pulling away. Not yet.

Asia held tight to his waist. "Where you sleepin' tonight?" The question came out muffled against Kelvin's hoodie, waiting for an answer that almost didn't come. 

"Air mattress," he answered. "I'll probably crash in the living room. Why?" 

"You need a good rest before the morning. Stay with me tonight if you want. No pressure." 

Kelvin's body tensed before he pulled back to get a better look at her face. He hoped for some indication she was too tipsy to know the temptation she'd introduced. Instead, he saw eyes pooling with latent desire like they did every time they inched toward a new level in their physical relationship. Saying no like he knew he should've felt like too much to ask of a man still hopelessly attracted to the woman holding him close in an early evening chill. Forbidden fruit always tasted the sweetest. 

Pushing a long braid behind her shoulder, Kelvin threw caution to the wind. "Okay." 

A little sleepover couldn't hurt. Not a sleepover complete with a singular joint rolled for New Year's Eve then discarded for a worthy future moment with a couple of humans suddenly allergic to containing their laughter. Or their touching. Or soft kisses on smooth skin becoming more and more exposed as the minutes ticked by. 

"Tell me when to stop," Asia whispered with her knees already planted next to Kelvin's hips, supporting her weight while she rolled her clothed center across his lap.

She shivered as his fingertips slid up her spine to feel for the latch on her bra. "No," he answered before deftly unhooking the garment keeping him from his prize. "I don't want to stop. You tell me or enjoy what we both want. It's up to you." 

Objection never came. Words no longer formed full sentences. They chose to use their voices as indicators of boundless pleasure, moaning and breathing into each other's mouths as two bodies joined to make one. Kelvin couldn't tell where he ended and Asia began. He didn't care. He only needed to know if she was as close to her peak as he was. And, if so, was she interested in fucking him until she couldn't anymore. 

Asia answered every question with her body. Would she miss him? Kelvin knew the answer was yes by the way she let saliva coat her mouth and chin while he repeatedly kissed the back of her throat with his tip. Was it all real? Absolutely. He could tell as she breathed his name through long, loving strokes with her forehead pressed against his. 

Kelvin let his body tell her things through sex he couldn't bring himself to say aloud. Having her writhing against his face, panting and keening for a break, helped him communicate just how much she meant to him. When he stared up at her with stars in his eyes through frenetic, upward pushes into her exhausted body, it was to tell her how beautiful she was at all times. Hair wild and untamed or perfectly prim and proper – it didn't matter. Statues should be made in her honor.

Fucking was the only language they could speak. Even when their bodies had given up by first light despite the mind still being willing. 

Cozying up to her backside on top of crumpled sheets, Kelvin held Asia's leg up to chase their high from the side. He nuzzled his nose against her shoulder and tightened the grip on her body. "You kept me up all night, girl," he purred against her shoulder. "I'm gon' need whatever you got left." 

A desperate mix of sounds came from Asia's throat in a strained groan as her belly weakly coiled for the absolute last orgasm she could muster. Her fingernails clawed at his forearm for an anchor to keep her body from levitating off the bed. 

"Don't forget me, baby." Kelvin didn't know if he was out for sick revenge or saying things he really meant. All he could decipher was the need for Asia to end the night depleted. "Don't forget me." 

By morning, when eager muscles settled into soreness and a few short hours of sleep shocked their systems into submission, the outside world reminded them that the previous night was the only fairytale in existence and hailing a Lyft at 6 AM was just the tip of their problems. 

Groggy and satiated, Kelvin and Asia trudged to the front door for what they knew was the absolute end of the road. They quietly basked in each other's presence. Faint smiles from steamy flashbacks kept them in good spirits, considering their reality. 

Kelvin gathered his belongings in silence, checking twice for the important stuff while Asia watched and battled with what to say next. A solemn goodbye? Well wishes? Something hopeful even though she didn't feel all that convinced he'd want to speak to her when the post-orgasm fog had cleared? In two agonizing minutes, she couldn't come up with a single word she hadn't already said.

She settled on nothing at all once Kelvin pulled her into a hug wrapped in feelings too intense to describe. He breathed her in, letting sweet vanilla tantalize his senses as he pressed her closer to his body.

"I love you." 

Simple and plain. No fuss. No request for an extravagant response. Just three words he needed to say for himself. Whether she felt the same was immaterial. He couldn't leave without being honest. 

Asia acknowledged what she already knew with a contented hum before pulling away to get a last look at his face. "See you later?" 

He wouldn't lie. Being hopeful for a reunion wasn't the same as believing one would materialize. So, Kelvin smiled. Instead of leaving her with a potentially false sense of security, he left Asia with a placid smile and a tap on the tip of her nose before repeating what he'd told her hours ago. 

"Be safe, Asia. Call me if you need me." 

Truthfully, Asia didn't know if she'd be calling. Even as she watched his chariot whisk him away until the car became but a tiny speck in traffic, the path forward was abstract and muddy. She didn't feel sad. The time for that had long passed. But happiness wasn't there either. A hint of peace peeked through a more tangled web of emotions. Longing, perhaps? She longed for all the lessons learned in matters of the heart and body. Lessons she'd lock away in some deep, special place in her heart. Determination rose up next. If nothing else, Kelvin had held a mirror up to Asia's face and forced her to examine parts of herself she'd swept under the rub for far too long. She'd thank him for that down the road. 

Above all else, though, as she slid dirty sheets from a crooked mattress and inhaled the lasting scent of him wafting throughout the room, Asia couldn't escape the hope coursing through her veins. She'd stepped out on a limb, taken her kisses and bruises in equal measure, and come out on the other side with new information for the future. One loss couldn't erase months of progress. 

And, with the door still cracked open for a time in the distant future, she finally felt like she'd arrived. At what, she couldn't tell. She'd have to find a new professor to learn that.

SPRING SEMESTER

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[leonawriter]

Ayin, Carmen, and the Circles of Hell Project Moon's Works

First off, what I wanted to go over here is the assumption that at least someone must have started playing through these games without a full picture of who these important people are and what, exactly, is going on.

Part of what makes the games so special to me is the way that they're all narrated, in that... each and every single one so far (three games, but also the webcomics and webnovels so far) has been told by an unreliable narrator - either of the events they're telling, or of their own inner world.

In this post, I'm hoping to tie the games together in as objective way as possible, using as much game/official-backed fact as I can, but I can't promise to be an "unbiased narrator" myself, since there are certain stances I take and theories I back.

That said: expect spoilers for Lobotomy Corporation, Library of Ruina, Leviathan (Vergilius' backstory), and all currently released Cantos and Intervallos (so far, up to 7.5).

Okay.

To start off, I'm going to have to go right back to the beginning.

No, not the backstory of Lobotomy Corporation.

More like "What even is the City" - because unless we can understand that, we can't really say we can understand who these characters are, and why they're doing these things. The setting informs characterisation and cultural norms, after all.

The City is, basically, as those who've played or otherwise experienced Library of Ruina and Limbus Company will know, comprised of the Wings (districts) and then further divided into the Nests (where everyone wants to live, where it's safer), and the Backstreets (where no one really wants to live, but many have to). The main driving motivation for most peoples' lives is that they have to become employable to either a good organisation (legal or not) that will provide for them, as the moment they are not of use they will be fired and/or disposed of.

In other words, your life does not belong to "you." Your life belongs to "the City."

All of that stuff we hear all the time about "find work that you enjoy!"? Yeah, no, the most important thing is to a) stay alive at all, and b) find work that will enable you to stay alive. Being able to keep morals? That's a luxury.

The world (which as far as anyone is concerned here, IS the City) is run by people who do not care about the well-being of others, and "good" people get ground up by it, eventually learning to harden their hearts.

Now that we've got that out of the way...

I can actually go into who the characters are.

First off, and most importantly (and obviously, going by the title) we have Ayin, Benjamin, and Carmen. Later on in Lobotomy Corporation known as "A, B, and C."

We don't know much about them before a certain point. We can, however, easily see that all three of them were from a Nest, rather than the Backstreets; of the original Outskirts lab, only Kali (Gebura) was Backstreets, and both Enoch and Lisa were from the Outskirts. This means that all three must have scored highly in certain exams in order to stay inside their Nest (which ones, though, we don't know yet) as was brought up in an early chapter of Distortion Detective.

For all of Lobotomy Corporation, we see things through Ayin's eyes, and we really only see the events that lead up to the founding of the Facility that "X" (AKA, Ayin's future looped self) is running. Since we only see the worst moments, we aren't really allowed to see the good times. We're allowed to see some very relevant quiet moments, but other than that it's few and far between.

What we DO know, and that we can in fact take on board that is highly important, is that Carmen had a big dream of wanting to improve things for people, on an individual basis, and she was very good at pulling people around to her way of thinking. This is not an exaggeration, or a matter of bias; this woman would go on to recruit people from all sorts of backgrounds, from both the Nests and the Backstreets. She would walk more or less alone in the Backstreets, and as far as we know did not have a bodyguard (or adjacent) until she recruited Kali, a Grade 2 Fixer. Carmen's ability to recruit all sorts of people would later be compared to that of a cult leader in Library of Ruina, and by someone who knew a lot about the City.

(This isn't the only time Roland says something like that; he also brings it up with Netzach.)

Ayin, who would be Carmen's junior, followed after her, listened to her, paid her a lot of attention, did as he was asked, and as we see Angela later state, he would look at Carmen "warmly."

Ayin would also be the one who would end up being blamed for, or the cause of, the worst of what happened, for one reason or another. Much of this was, I would say, either 50/50 fault of the future Sephirot making bad decisions, and Ayin himself having no idea how to communicate with them in a way that would prevent such incidents, or outright being unable to.

Simply looking at him and the way that A describes things, as well as the way that Manager X would later respond to things, tells the story of someone who quite literally had trouble communicating and connecting with other people. After Malkuth's meltdown, when A is talking about and recalling Elijah, we see the line "It was only after a very long time that I realised giving praise every once in a while may have been a good idea." When introduced to Kali, it's pointed out that he seems to be "glaring" at her, and Carmen says that he "always has a serious look on his face."

There are other lines and aspects from other scenes, but going into how and why I see Ayin as autistic is for another post, really. The important part is that the game shows us that he is perceived as cold and distant by others, yet most often only figures out how to interact in a way that grants the social benefits he and others require once it is already too late.

There is also the fact that a lot of his reactions (both in the past, and in the present) are... very human. No one can give the perfect response of a hero while in a traumatic moment. Chesed actually outright states this during one of the flashbacks about himself.

So we have Carmen, whose dream was to have a "beautiful voice" that "everyone would listen to," and we have Ayin, whose dream we aren't privy to - he tells her, and she laughs it off.

I'm not making that up, by the way:

[Source: TeeQueue's LP.]

What we do know, however, is that... for most of his life really, he - as said - follows after Carmen. To the point that, in one particular flashback (during Day 48), she asks him, in advance, that "No matter what I may become, please finish what I started."

However, we can see from both Adam (the third of Ayin's fractured selves) stating point blank that the consequences of Carmen's Light would cause people to become abnormalities, and then in Library of Ruina seeing the direct result in reality... that the Distortion phenomena would begin because of her. Starting with one as big and destructive as the Pianist which destroyed most of an entire district, then the Reverberation Ensemble through the course of the game, and finally firsthand appearances in both Leviathan and Limbus Company.

Carmen truly does become the "beautiful voice" that everyone listens to; Leviathan goes as far as to have an entire conversation between her and a distorting Vergilius, in which we get to see what her perspective is, and... strap in, because this is why I explained what kind of place the City is in the first place.

Carmen, at her heart, wants the Children of the City to live for themselves. To be selfish, rather than living only for the sake of a City that does not care for them. To have their outside appearance resembles the self they keep inside. You can see, in the few times the reader/player is allowed to see what she's saying during a distortion, that she doesn't push people into distorting so much as she plays into their own pre-existing feelings and desires. Enabling them to feel that they are justified in everything that they feel.

The important thing to remember is that the root (ha) of Carmen's argument is not wrong. Remember: those born to the City are subject to the City, and exist only for the City. The City doesn't exist for the sake of the people, but only for itself. Therefore, the idea of someone suggesting "I want to make it so that you can be selfish, and live for yourselves" IS going to be incredibly tempting, and to many people. It's a subversive, inherently rebellious idea!

Even in the real world, we have countries that put a lot of stock into how well a country can function as a uniform system; Japan and China I know for certain put far more emphasis on the group than the individual, even now. Anyone coming from somewhere that doesn't may see this as a strange idea, but it IS a cultural mindset that exists in the present day, and it took certain movements ("egoism" for one, and Ango Sakaguchi's essay that is referenced in Bungo Stray Dogs is "Discourse on Decadence" for another) to get to the point we're at now.

The problem lies in the fact that the moment you start to only think of yourself, when you ignore everyone else you become a force of destruction, harming others, either on a small scale (only hurting those immediately around you) or a large scale (hurting many people as a result of your actions) without regret. You no longer care about the people you used to care about. The "self" is all that remains.

Carmen was/is a well-intentioned (by the City's standards) person, but who took her one good idea too far.

Judging by his reaction to Adam's revelations about the as-yet-unnamed Distortion Phenomena - and he DOES have a negative reaction to it, considering he answers Adam's religious fervour with Hokma's ability to "Face the past, build the future" and Binah's "Facing the fear, breaking the cycle," meaning that he saw Adam as wrong. I'd say it's a foregone conclusion that Ayin did not know that Carmen's idea meant what it did. Nor that it's likely that Carmen's idea was to distort people from the start.

This, then, leads to the fact that although we don't know Ayin's own wishes from way back at the start when they first met so clearly... we can at least say that he wanted at least some of the same as what she did; for people to lead happier, more fulfilling lives, which were not controlled fully by the City. He must have agreed with her on the fact that the City, in her terms, suffered from a "disease of the mind."

Their differences are where things get interesting, because in Leviathan it is stated that simply due to Ayin "joining [her] in the light" at all, the concept of also being able to form EGO instead of Distortion became a possibility. In fact, in that same chapter, Vergilius is shown to be suspicious of her brushing her "junior's" involvement off, in spite of Ayin being "involved in every cause and effect" (Vergilius' words, from the translation).

There is a certain irony, even, to Carmen causing rifts between the future Sephirot and Ayin when they first meet - saying things that could otherwise be playful teasing, yet in later context is, as stated above, rather dismissive-

Her telling Ayin "He's a bit pompous, so don't believe everything he says" about Daniel, and to Kali who, as stated above, asked why Ayin was glaring and was told "He just always has a serious look on his face." In another flashback, she wore him down until he could see no other option than what she gave him (about progressing the Cogito experiment); "What made me, us, so upset... was how much it hurt to listen to her put it so calmly, as if it were none of our business." As I pointed out earlier, she laughs at his dream, before carrying on.

And yet, because she entrusted the project to him, it's Ayin's fingerprints that are over all of Lobotomy Corporation, as well as how to activate EGO at all. "Face the Fear, Build the Future"? That's all Ayin. And yeah, he's hardly a saint; he still did everything that all of the flashbacks show us (and his present day self who is remembering/being shown). But the important thing is that people can be multifaceted, and half the point of Lobotomy Corporation, as I see it, is that people are capable of some truly horrendous things... but you are still capable of building from them and moving into the future if you want to try and be a better person.

That's literally the message that Ayin leaves people through the Light.

Which in turn, pushes us forward in to the later games, because the thing is, everything really does come back to those two.

In Ruina, the Sephirot - now the Patron Librarians - have to tiptoe around Angela, who only has negative feelings about Ayin due to him being the world's worst father by creating her and then refusing to look at her, and then sending her into an unending torture device. I can't fault her for being furious here. She has been given absolutely no reason to see him in a better light up to here, when she was created with the memories of someone who had fond memories of him.

However, that does mean that the Patron Librarians can't truly be said to be speaking their minds amongst themselves, and especially not with Roland. These are the people who came out of Lobotomy Corporation's loops changed for the better, and although you can still see their (metaphorical, psychological) scars, we can see through the things they say that "X" must have been talking back to them at various points, and specifically during and after their meltdowns.

I brought this up in another post, but here's Gebura in Ruina, stating "It's hard to take a step forward if there's no one around to give you honest advice," and that goes for both the Sephirot and also Angela. As they do point out, Angela never had that. Angela herself is very upset about it (which is an understatement).

I've theorised as well that the Patron Librarians would have talked more about Ayin at length, but they held off after Angela interrupted Malkuth.

After she says this, she's cut off, and Angela berates her. Given Angela is basically hearing what to her is her abuser being praised to high heavens by someone who was also harmed by him... it's no wonder she reacts like this, and given the way the Librarians are I wouldn't be surprised if they understood that - but it does mean that we don't see their true thoughts.

They'll talk around him, but rarely directly about him - and when they do, like Gebura above, she snaps at them. So we, the viewer, also do not get to see their full thoughts and feelings.

This isn't the end, however, since the endgame of Ruina throws a lot into perspective that is made rather blatantly clear in later materials such as Leviathan and Limbus Company: that is, the stances of Ayin versus Carmen, and expanding on how they're in opposition in a far clearer way than we had during Lobotomy Corporation.

Because Lobotomy Corporation's final days are full of unreliable narration and Ayin's other selves telling him how he felt (which... yeah, wasn't him saying how he felt), that wasn't as clear as it could have been.

Not anymore!

First of all, in order to get the full, true ending in Ruina, you have to have both Roland and Angela forgive each other and not keep that need for revenge. In other words, they have to face the past, and break the cycle. They've both gone through Realisations, with them venting out their feelings to the Librarians each time... much like how the Librarians themselves had to vent out their feelings to Ayin in order to cool off.

Once you've got that, Angela decides to sort out the Light, and gets one more Realisation/fight - this time something that Hokma had been warning her about. Interestingly, he's the only one who made her question where the ability to create Invitations and use the Library at all came from. He, while having faith in Ayin, makes her question her blind faith in Carmen. Because as it turns out, she has been leaning on the part of her that was built from Carmen quite a bit up to now.

This... doesn't last, now that she herself has The Knowing I.

Angela: As long as I'm part of this light, I'll do everything in my power to stop you.

Given how we know that Ayin's very presence in the light caused awakening EGO to be possible, it's not a stretch to assume that this is the same stance that Ayin has taken now that he knows what Carmen was actually after.

I'd like to add something that is implied by that statement that some might see as treading into headcanon territory here: that Ayin, after having dedicated his entire life, literally ten thousand years of loops, to following Carmen's goal, which entailed committing atrocity after atrocity both personal (putting his deceased friends into metal bodies and bringing them back time after time) and impersonal (the many, many canon deaths of the employees, and no matter how "S rank no death" run you try and make yours, a few Clerks will get themselves killed by something) - would feel horrendously betrayed by Carmen.

I do not see Ayin, when he sees her again after realising what she had been aiming for the entire time, greeting her as a friend.

There's an art I've seen someone do, of them meeting in the light, Carmen reaching out her hand, and Ayin refusing her for perhaps the first time, because he finally has the Will to Stand Up Straight, and the understanding that they're actually on opposing sides now. I strongly feel like that - or the vibe of it - is at least somewhat the intent with their characters.

This is backed up by how, when Angela has accomplished this, fought Carmen, finished what Ayin had been working toward herself (and most importantly, her own personal growth to get there), Ayin tells her "I'm sorry. And... good job."

So. That's Library of Ruina.

On to Limbus Company, and the Circles of Hell.

Because if anyone thinks that Ayin's influence stopped with Angela and the Library, they are dead wrong.

To start with, we have some purely meta things. The titles have the same initials, which makes them easy to confuse if you're used to just going "oh play LC-" because which one? Lobotomy, or Limbus? In the Project Moon interviews before the game was released, they would often refer to future games as "the sequel." First Ruina, and then Limbus. Limbus especially, given its initials, got called "LC2" at least once or twice.

So, Limbus Company is a direct sequel to Lobotomy Corporation, which deals with the aftermath of all the branches having shut down. Simple enough, right?

The next thing is the characters we meet.

So far, both Dante and each of the Sinners has something in common with Ayin. And almost every one of their respective enemies so far has something in common with Carmen.

Dante themself is the Manager. Instead of managing Abnormalities, they manage the Sinners, a group of twelve people who are brought down to the strength of the weakest among them because of Dante's ability to chain them all together- wait, that sounds... familiar?

"The person who learns to think about himself as Ayin will ascend to a spiritual world, where everything is the same and everything is equal."

[Source: Ayin and Yesh, in Hasidism, from Wikipedia.]

Oh, look who it is. Hello, Ayin. Or rather, the spiritual concept of Ayin.

Honestly, a LOT of things about Dante scream out to me as references to Ayin. As a person. If you wanna go look at all of them, my friend Kitty/ @strangefellows has a whole gdoc on it.

My own thoughts on it go from "If you change Dante's red uniform coat to a white lab coat and ignore their head, that is literally the same person and body language" to "Dante's inability to know what they're doing at first echoes how Ayin had no idea at the start of the loops, both of them suffering from memory loss," to "Dante, during the SEA event, sinks into the same sort of uncertainty that anything they say will make any difference that is so characteristic of Ayin's own silences," to "when exposed to a monolith, which induces distortion, Dante is said to remember more than they are capable of at the time and knows exactly what Peccatula are, which is something that Ayin would know intimately given his involvement," to "during the the time when Heathcliff is distorting, the screen flashes with a very specific image of Carmen lying in a field" - which should be familiar to anyone who's gone through Lobotomy Corporation since it's something that only Ayin remembers.

In short: there is a very high probability that we're going to see it confirmed at some point that Dante's past self (with memories) is actually Ayin himself. I personally do not see this contradicting any of the canon Limbus has given us, and it does in fact only build on it. You'll notice that when I talk about Ayin I use he/him, and Dante gets they/them - I personally love the idea that Dante's just gonna go "ooh, I get to play with more pronouns? Cool!" Collect 'em all, you funky tick-tock genderless dude.

(If you don't believe that, it's fine. I've only been listing off canon moments, however!)

Going back to "more than just Dante echoes Ayin, just as Ayin was similar to more than just the Keter," however, and... let's build on that.

Starting with Yi Sang.

Yi Sang is someone who was a researcher working alongside a small group of people, who created a technology that was meant to be a bright spot for pure enjoyment. However, a chain of events happened that had T-Corp's law enforcement coming down on them, forcing them to work for the Wings or scatter. He regains his ability to see that he still has a future, and that he can still attain "flight" (that is, his own ideal self) by working through his past and being proactive rather than simply letting it happen. A large part of his trauma lies in the League of Nine breaking up and him recognising his own loneliness, too, and as a result he can be later seen trying more than anyone else in the bus to stop the others from fighting and causing the irreparable rifts that torn his original friend group apart.

Yi Sang mirrors Ayin in that they are both researchers who were set apart from their friend groups, yet they both had a desire for friendship and to be closer to those people that they could not fulfil due to their own temperament.

Yi Sang also has the EGO "4th Match Flame" which...

If it weren't for the colour of his eyes, I'd outright call that Ayin.

Note that the Matchgirl's story is that of someone who burns themself out in order to gain a little more warmth, which fits both Yi Sang and Ayin.

Next we have Faust, who hasn't had her Canto yet, but we do know some things about her. She is very similar to Angela, in that she fills the role of "walking assistant and encyclopaedia" however as we see in MOTWE, she's also part of a collective, the Gesselschaft, and we do know that when she is disconnected from it she becomes a person who is keen on learning and investigating for herself, and Dante's attitude to her is very encouraging, even while they're having their own private panic/anxiety attacks over potentially being stuck in a 20k+ year dimension with (based on what we know from Canto 4) no certainty that they'll be able to forget. That isn't so much a direct Faust-Ayin comparison as it is a Faust-Angela and Dante-Ayin comparison, but it's still worth bringing up. I look forward to her Canto.

Next we have Don Quixote, whose entire Canto was about breaking free of her dreams and delusions to see how things truly were, but also - more importantly - it's about how one person with good intentions can try to push them onto other people, regardless of how much it hurts those around them. Of how, even if those dreams of a better world were good ones, because Sancho was never fully able to say "hey, maybe this is gonna not work?" they weren't held in check, so they do untold damage. How Dad Quixote sees what the other bloodfiends do to him as a form of "penance," with the sheer amount of time he is kept pinned to the wheel causing him to lose faith in his original hopes and dreams, not fighting back because he recognises that he is the one who caused them to lash out at him in the first place. Sancho-Don being the one to regain her dreams that had previously just been delusions, this time with her eyes open.

This one... barely even needs me to point out, really, but both Sancho and Dad Quixote are echoes of how Ayin and Carmen's best intentions could and did hurt many people, trapping them in Lobotomy Corporation headquarters/La Manchaland, and torturing themselves for their own inability to see the problems they'd cause. Sancho also ends up having locked her now amnesiac self in a very small room for roughly two hundred years, much like Ayin locking his amnesiac self in a small office for ten thousand years, with neither of them fully aware of the length of time that's actually passed. Both of them also are traumatised by witnessing a horrendous massacre of their home; Ayin by the Outskirts Lab, and Sancho/DQ by the sight of what La Manchaland became, and then by having to kill her remaining family.

Next on the list is Ryoshu, and... we honestly don't know much about her past or motivations since her Canto hasn't released yet and we haven't had as much focus on her yet. She so far (given my recent re-watch and read through of an LP) reminds me of Binah, since they both enjoy bloodshed and violence - and Binah herself tells A that she sees them as similar kinds of people, able to perform atrocities by looking the other way.

If we look at Ryoshu's source material, going into headcanon territory, we can see that the character she's base don had a child, who died horribly. One has to wonder how that's going to play out in Limbus. The idea of a parent and child storyline does make me think of Ayin's relationships with both Enoch and Lisa (both of whom died), and also with Angela, however.

Meursault currently doesn't have his Canto yet, but the similarities are plain and easy to see; they are both taciturn people who may seem blunt and/or harsh, and don't really... know how to people. Meursault is pointed at by many as being autistic, just as I've stated way up back in my description of Ayin that he seems to me. At the start of the story, Meursault doesn't seem attached to anyone, and merely does as he is told and not a thing more, yet by Canto 6, he is willing to activate his own EGO without having been told to, for the sake of the people he has grown to care about. Meursault is a lesson in "just because someone seems cold and aloof, does not mean they do not or are not capable of care."

Hong Lu's Canto is coming up in just a short while (it's in sight!) but he's honestly currently closer to having comparisons to Daniel, or rather, Chesed. Both of them are rich Nest boys. Chesed states that as Daniel he could have made it into even A Corp - that is, the Head - and he chose not to. They both have the same breezy yet confident way of talking (which, funnily enough, Dante and Ayin's ways of talking about Chesed and Hong Lu are very similar), too, and a similar trauma-based "I am past the point of caring" mindset, which others have talked about on Hong Lu's side at length on better than I could.

Heathcliff is someone who follows one woman, believes in her, and is the one who inherits her will after she dies. He also finds out that the one who he's been following and placing his faith in has turned her home into a laboratory, her body (dead or alive) is the power source, and she has looked into a mirror showing her countless alternate worlds full of might-have-beens that drove her mad from the revelation. He distorts from the grief and despair, is called back, and fights his evil alternate self at least three times before finally ending it all, with her deleting herself. He then re-engraves his weapon to state "REMEMBER" and in a later Intervallo is seen having taken on the role of assistant researcher.

....More than half of that could have been talking about Ayin. It is also within Heathcliff's "area" (T-Corp, more than just his canto) that we have the monolith introduced (which induces Dante to half-distort), as well as Heathcliff's own distortion (which causes distorted Lobotomy Corporation logos and Carmen's face to flash on the screen). This feels... relevant!

[Image: flickering, slightly distorted image of Carmen lying on the grassy field from after having played through 6-34. Her eyes are open and bright red. It is - other than the flickering - exactly the same as we see on LC1 Day 48.]

Also relevant is that so much of Heathcliff's entire Canto is about the consequences of miscommunication (much like many parts of the original Wuthering Heights). Because in Lobotomy Corporation, a lot of the Sephirot's problems were caused by the same thing. Either Ayin or them refusing or being unable to communicate effectively.

Ishmael's references are beautiful, in that hers is the second Canto where Dante is really getting into their stride as the Manager. I find hers to be so freaking important, because during SEA Dante is faced with Ishmael's mood regarding them heading into the Great Lake tearing the group apart, and when she snaps and tells them that she'll obey their orders but no more and no less from here on, Dante is... well.

The entire situation surrounding Ishmael's Canto goes deep into, first: how easy it must have been for someone like Ayin to fall into the rut of not wanting to say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing, because Dante almost falls into that, starting from SEA and even leading right up into Canto 5.

[Thanks to Kitty for the doc letting me just find stuff rather than go through the cutscenes through theatre!]

This is something that Dante is having to struggle with and overcome through the duration of the Canto - what does it mean when you want to fit in, but you feel that no one around you feels the same way? What to do when your best efforts to try and help only make things worse? Do you give up and stay silent, out of fear, or do you keep pushing forward while following your heart, hoping that this next time, you can help even at least somewhat?

And then there's how Ishmael during the entire Canto, but especially during the dungeon, has to overcome how she has been following in her Captain's footsteps to the point that she can't even see her own path anymore. It's only by listening to Dante (who refuses to sacrifice themself, and who also refuses to ever give up on her) that she's able to change her target at the last moment.

Canto 5 ends with Ishmael having recognised that she had become the mermaid to Ahab's Pallid Whale, following forever in her footsteps... until Dante reminded her of how she could choose her own path. Much like how Ayin and the crew of the Outskirts Lab followed Carmen's wishes and dreams no matter how awful her ideas to follow through on it were, with Ayin only able to break out at the very last moments, the last few days, where he recognised where she was going wrong.

Rodya is one of the two who didn't really get a full deep dive, and yet (especially with TKT) we do get a lot to read into of her. She wanted to be the cause of change, and yet in spite of joining a group that advocated for people having better lives, they... mostly sat in their chairs and talked about stuff rather than doing it, and seeing Sonya's people seeming to be doing things when she left a long time ago is part of why she's not doing so hot right now.

From my notes: Just like Rodion, Ayin tried to do something to change the world around him, only to (effectively) make things worse in the short term. Rodion killed the landlady, who had ties to the Middle; Ayin took over a wing, but that led to the collapse of both L Corps, the stigma of all L Corp citizens, and many people suffering. 

Sinclair was originally just a normal Nest kid with well-to-do parents, who was led astray by a female classmate. He would be led further into the palm of her hand until she causes tragedy to strike, with the people Kromer had led into his home with his key having slaughtered his family. When he goes back to his home with the Sinners, he is finally able to face his past and his trauma, and become a more courageous person. Sinclair also has a male friend who tries to get him to follow the correct path back in school.

Personally, I find this easy to see as being the Carmen-Ayin-Benjamin effect, and we'll get back to that later.

Outis.... has not yet got her Canto, and given her military history it is almost certain that she was a participant in the Smoke War. In which case she would have known Ayin and/or Benjamin, no matter whether it's over the battlefield or in person. Given that she looks very similar to a character who should have known them, the latter seems more likely. She's also said some sus things on that.

I'm sure we'll get to know more about her as we go, but there was a moment during Canto 7 recently, where she's having a knee-jerk reaction to finding out that Don Quixote (read: Sancho) is actually a bloodfiend, and a lot of her objections are due to how many people Don Quixote must have killed. Partway through, it becomes clear that We Aren't Talking About Don Quixote Anymore, and Dante makes it clear that their support isn't just for one of them:

Outis "You don't know how many people she's killed by existing. will you embrace her still?" Dante <I will.>

Like, we don't know much about her for fact other than this so far (and she's started changing because of it since) but I feel like that assurance is going to come up for more than just Don Quixote and Outis. If nothing else, it's an extension of how in both Lobotomy Corporation and Library of Ruina, countless people are sacrificed in the name of the "greater good" - or one person's quest for revenge, or their own desire - and each one of the people who spearheaded those projects (Ayin, Hokma, Roland, Angela) could have this same question turned on them only too easily.

Gregor is an outcast, created by G-Corp, who has Sephirot symbols on the fabric covering his arm, and who participated in the Smoke War (on the side of the old L-Corp, against Ayin and Hokma). While serving in the war, he was the figurehead of his group; however, he was just as much a pawn of the military as any of them... much like how Ayin sure seems to be the one in charge and someone for those he's in charge of to look up to... only for it to turn out that he's just as trapped as the other Sephirot, and he had just as many issues as those in the Outskirts lab.

So. The Sinners as a group are cohesively tied to extrapolating on plot points and the characterisation of either Ayin or someone Ayin knew on a very personal level. The other point being "they may even have known him during the Smoke War, give or take."

The Ayin Narrative continues. It isn't about "his story is over," it's about "how do we further explain who he was, and why he did the things that he did." Even if you don't believe that Dante themself is simply amnesiac clock-headed Ayin, these are immutable facts.

Which then takes us on to the other side of the Cantos: the Bad Guys. The Villains. Sometimes even just The Opposition, as there isn't always a clear Good vs. Evil here, and this time I'll be going more in chronological order.

Hermann is Gregor's mother, and she was the one who was the head scientist of the old G Corp, and the head of the current antagonist group in Limbus to the Sinners. She's the one who "trained" Gregor -and when he encounters her in his Fathoms of Ego, it's by way of the manicured hands coming down to crush them, which they cannot escape, to the point that Gregor realises that the only way out is to let her catch them. It's more metaphorical than we'd usually get, but - he truly does exist in the palm of her hand, wouldn't you say?

Rodya's enemy is, really, the Syndicates of the Backstreets, and the system itself - she tries to fight against it, only for it to come back and crush everything around her, leaving her alive. Which is much like the way the Head came down on the Outskirts lab, isn't it? That said,

Sonya, who she had fallen in with, also wanted to change the world... although unlike Carmen, he never (at least, while she knew him) was able to move forward with any of his plans, meaning that people continued to get crushed under the system while he waited for the right time. What is like Carmen, is that he wanted all of the good effects of activism without dirtying his hands himself (Sonya can't argue that he simply let Rodya do her thing, and Carmen outright left the hard work to Ayin when she knew she wouldn't have the heart to go through with it).

Kromer is a religious fanatic who sees humanity as at its purest form when there is only flesh, no prosthetics whatsoever, and will use absolute violence against "heretics." She also isolated Sinclair from the one who would have been a good influence on him, and she used whistling to call to him. She was very attached to Sinclair, and wanted to make him into her own image - as seen in the mirror Identity "The One Who Shall Grip - Sinclair."

Kromer is basically an entire reference to how in Library of Ruina, Roland calls Carmen a "cult leader." Both Kromer and Carmen wanted something that is an unrealistic standard (humans into monsters/humans without any accommodations for disabilities etc) and both have a younger male character under their proverbial wing, in the palm of her hand.

The "bad guys" in Canto IV are not so much a single person or "evil organisation" as they are the Wing and the System of T-Corp, the breaking down of the League of Nine Litterateurs, and then the former members of his friend group coming back, yet this time in opposition to him... just as the Outskirts lab would fold in on itself, before being sold out to the Head, and the Sephirot holding everything against Ayin while he was managing the abnormalities from his office in a time loop.

Ahab of Canto VI is, like with many others, the woman who is so charismatic that she pulls an entire group of people along with her, and although she tells herself that she's doing this for them, and that they're dying in "glory" they... really aren't, and she's driving them off the edge, pulling them along in fanaticism. Ishmael refers to Ahab as her own personal Pallid Whale, recreating Ishmael in her image of endless hatred and violence.

Although Carmen isn't as outright violent as Ahab, she's more... indirectly violent. She knows that the experiments are going to cause deaths, and she sets them up regardless. She draws people in, and stops Ayin from being able to discourage them if they aren't ready. She is the pallid whale to Ayin's mermaid, following after her and becoming just like her. It's only due to the Seed of Light project having his fingerprints at the end that saves him from basically becoming "Adam."

Cathy... is someone who has Carmen's "weak heart," who "dies" because she gains the notion that something has gone wrong (Enoch's death/Heathcliff's absence and misery), who orchestrates events behind the scenes by being the emotion-powered generator of the lab and entire building that she'd altered. Sound familiar? We even have similar imagery there, given we have "Cathy in the coffin" and "Carmen [as] the Bucket."

Canto VII has Don Quixote (no, not that one) and Bari, who aren't even villains, and the bloodfiends, who... okay, kinda are, but the bloodfiends are acting on instinct, having been starved for far too long. Bari is someone who encourages a person who suffers from ennui to have something to look forward to, day after day. She tells him that he suffers from a "sickness of loneliness." He then takes what she's said, and creates an unrealistic dream from it, without thinking of the consequences and without thinking of how to make it a realistic reality.

In other words, Don Quixote (no, still not that one) has a grand dream that causes far more pain than he ever intended, to the point that in both the main world we play in and the mirror universes, the bloodfiends of La Manchaland rise up against him, having been suffering because of good intentions. Just like how Carmen had a grand dream, and because of it caused both her immediate team and then after them untold numbers of people to suffer, and to die for it.

Don Quixote sent Sancho (yes, that one) out on a journey to prove to him that his hypothesis (that bloodfiends and humans can coexist, that Sancho can have a grand adventure and come back better for it) only for Sancho to utterly break as a result, since she couldn't hold all of that on her shoulders on her own... much like after Carmen told Ayin to carry on her work after she was gone, Ayin also utterly broke.

So - not only do we get to see all of these different refractions of Ayin, but we also get to see each one of them faced with a refraction of Carmen. A possibility, a different circumstance,

The end result is that Ayin and Carmen are the threads that keep the Project Moon stories tied together. It is outright impossible to remove either of them from the narrative in any way that matters.

And going back to the title of the entire post:

This from Walpurgisnacht. The dev team and scenario/scriptwriters are well aware of what they're doing. Telling the stories of people who are fucked up human beings who are capable of falling face-flat on the mud and then getting up no matter how long it takes, and breaking their cycles no matter if it's even at the very last moment they could.

And the story of a Manager who keeps on refusing to let their people walk the wrong path.

In the really short:

"So, it's all Ayin and Carmen?" "Always has been."

[lavenderprose]

I do think Taash eventually starts a Permanent Sleepover type situation with Harding purely because staying in the main lighthouse starts to feel just a bit too much like being Rook and Emmrich's houseguest.

And it's not that they're made to feel intrusive. Emmrich and Rook always look up from their Weird Necromancy Chats when they hear Taash coming down the hallway and offer them a seat in the library sitting area. They're having tea. It's really fragrant and it smells crazy good, actually, but Taash can also smell how much Rook is enjoying Emmrich's Death Yap. Even if their sense of smell wasn't so developed, Taash has fucking eyes, and they can see that Rook's legs are crossed harder than a clamp trap and their face is glazed over like one of those Antivan teacakes Lucanis always brings back in a pretty pink box from Traviso. Apparently they take sixteen hours to make. They're really good, especially the chocolate ones--

"Taash?" Emmrich says, head politely cocked, like Taash can't literally smell his--

"You guys are weird," Taash says, as mildly as they can (because they don't actually think Emmrich and Rook realize how weird they are) before they quickly hustle away.

So yeah, it all gets to be a bit much. Between the tea times and the giggling that Taash can hear through the wall sometimes, and the way that they feel like if they don't absolutely CLOMP down the hallway out of their room, they might see something they really don't wanna see. Rook and Emmrich seem to forget that anyone else exists when they're looking deeply into each other's souls, or whatever it is they're doing.

"I don't actually think they're fuckin'," Taash tells Harding. They're laying on Lace's floor pallet, pillows and blankets all tossed to the side, because Taash and Lace? They're fuckin. All the time. Fuck yeah. "I would understand it if they were fuckin'. Who doesn't like fuckin'? I mean, I know some people don't, I've talked to Lucanis--"

"I don't think that's what's happening here," Lace says, in that nice and gentle tone she uses when she sees that Taash is starting to get way too in their head about yet another aspect of Other People and the Way They Act that they can't quite process. "Some people just...they don't...well. You know how sometimes, when you have something you really enjoy eating--"

"Like those teacakes Lucanis buys," Taash says immediately.

"Yeah, like that." Lace lays back and folds her hands over her stomach, bouncing her feet to a jaunty tune in her head. God, she has great boobs. Point one to Taash for getting to touch those great boobs. "Well, sometimes you want to really enjoy the teacakes, so you eat them slower. To, um, savor--"

"Oh, haha, no." Taash frequently inhales the teacakes with alarming speed and gusto. They are best eaten whole, two at a time.

"Okay. Well...okay. When we go to Rivain, and the sun is setting on the water."

"Uh-huh."

"And the birds are singing, and everything's quiet, and you know we're heading somewhere--maybe somewhere exciting!--but you still want to sit there for a minute and enjoy it? Because...who knows if you'll ever have this moment again, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," Taash mumbles. They shift down until their head is next to Lace's, which kind of means their bare ass is all on the tile greenhouse floor, but it's whatever. Lace is super pretty from this angle. "It's like an edging thing, then."

Lace's face twists spectacularly. "No, that's not--"

When Taash returns to the main Lighthouse that night, they catch just the briefest glimpse of something happening on the banister at the top of the staircase. When they blink, Emmrich has positioned himself in front of a red-faced Rook, only visible as a wad of hair breathing against the back of Emmrich's shoulder and a hand clutching his elbow from behind.

"Taash!" Emmrich says, way too loud. "We thought you were spending the night with dear Harding! Ah, of course, you do live here too. We apologize for--"

Rook hisses something into Emmrich's spine. It sounds like, "Shut up shut up."

Emmrich's clothes are, like, really messed up. For him at least. One of the buttons on his trousers is undone.

"Oh," says Taash. They turn around and walk their ass right back to the greenhouse.

"Hey," they say, as Lace flounders out of sleep. "So, uh, I was wrong. Can I stay here? Forever?"

[bellysoupset]

The Fun Police

Max blinked, dizzily, rolling on his bed as much as the casted foot allowed him and trying to make sense of which way was up or down. He was consistently sleeping past his alarm these past 3 days, since he had gotten full 10 days off work and Vince was there around the clock, before class and afterwards.

He had never been more well fed in his whole life.

His phone beeped and Max drowsily sat up, wincing as it caused a jolt of pain to go up to his knee, and reached for the device. It was around 2 PM, great. There was movement outside his room and Max stumbled up, grabbing the crutch and wobbling out of the bedroom.

He fully expected to see Vince there or maybe even Wendy, what he did not expect was to see a full head of curly auburn hair. Max blinked several times, frozen on the doorway of his tiny kitchen, trying to figure out if he was still dreaming or not.

Bella turned around, she was crouched down under his sink, searching the cabinet and her eyebrows jumped up, "oh hi!" her voice was a whole octave higher and softer than the last time they had seen each other, when Max had made a fool out of himself in the cabin, "you're up!"

"Hi..." Max frowned, not entirely convinced this was real, and jumped on one leg to the stool that separated the counter from the living room, "uh... What-"

"Vince had to go over to Boston today so he wouldn't be able to come after class," Bella answered, standing up straight and holding the sponge and dish soap, "and Wen's still recovering from the flu..."

Max's cheeks burned at the implication he was some sort of toddler who needed constant supervision. He let out a scoff, "I appreciate their concern, but I'm an adult, you really don't-"

"I don't wanna stay home," Bella blurted out, shutting him up. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away from him, turning her back around as she washed the few dishes inside his sink, "I had a day off and staying home is driving me crazy and I- You can barely walk around, I figured you'd be bored."

Max's eyebrows went up all the way to his hairline. He had the sensation he had just been told something big, but he couldn't quite pin point what it was. There was a beat, then he shrugged, "sure... Suit yourself. But if that troglodyte of your husband appears here to accuse me of kidnapping you, we're gonna have proble-EMHEY!" He squealed, as Bella threw the soap soaked sponge directly at his forehead.

He nearly fell from the stool, staring at her wide eyed, "what the fuck, dude?!"

"Don't call Luke that," Bella glared at him, before circling the island in order to retrieve the sponge, "anyway, I figured we could go for a walk or do something? What do you do for fun?"

Max grumbled over his breath, Bella had some fucking nerve. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be mad at her. She was there, when she certainly didn't need to be, willing to keep him company and get all the stuff he wanted from across the room, and really... It was quite refreshing.

"I'm getting a little stir crazy," he admitted, "Vince brought me over to the community sport's center a couple times and it was a lot of fun, we could go over? I guess I'm out of hiking for an indefinite amount of time."

Bella snorted at that, "yeah, but hey, you apparently suck at it, so that's a good thing," she said smugly, then pointed at his bedroom door, "you need to change if we're gonna go out. Unless you want your students' parents to see you in boxers."

Max rolled his eyes, stumbling up and waving her away as she followed him towards the bedroom, apparently unaware of privacy just like Wendy was, "sorry, ginger, I really can't afford to get my teeth punched in right now, you'll need a permission slip in order to see me naked."

"You're such a prick," Bella wrinkled her nose, flicking at his ear since he couldn't pull back fast enough, "I'm going to wait in the living room, just yell when you fall."

Changing was always more than a little bit of a struggle. The shirt was easy, but his closet was made up of mostly jeans, ripped jeans and getting that past his cast foot was nearly impossible.

He hadn't gone out of the house yet, so he had been wearing sweatpants, specifically one pair Vince had brought over that was very oversized, but now he had no choice...

"HEY Bell!"

"I was joking about you falling-" she burst into his room immediately, then paused, "you're not fallen."

Max snorted, "no, I'm not," he pointed the jeans. He had put on one leg, the other was sitting on his lap, "I need the scissors from the kitchen, please. First drawer."

"On it," Bella didn't even question, coming back in less than a minute, "here you go."

Without hesitating, he grabbed the right leg of his jeans and cut a vertical line on the side, making bell bottom. Next to him, Bella let out a whistle.

"You rebel," she teased, "very punk."

Max rolled his eyes, before sliding the jeans on now seamlessly... Wasn't it for the fact now the ends of it fell like flaps, "uh..."

"Hold on," Bella moved around his room, grabbing one of his boots and removing its cords, "let's actually make it punk," she sat down on the carpet by his bed, grabbing the scissors and making small holes on each flap of the pants, tying them together like a corset around the cast, "hell yeah."

Max was smiling from ear to ear now, he couldn't help it. He thought of how horrified Wendy would've been if she saw him getting out of the house with those pants.

Bella grabbed his arm, pulling him up and Max stumbled, "alright, let's go?"

The community Sport's center wasn't the best option of activity when one could barely walk around, but they didn't just have field sports. There were foosball tables, as well as a ping pong and an air hockey table, so they headed straight to those.

Bella was competitive, something Max sorta had already guessed by watching her with the group in the cabin and the fact that Lucas certainly was very competitive. She had to have a strong personality to handle that asshole, Max decided, grinning as he patted the side of the foosball table and said, "prepare to get fucked over, Bella."

He hadn't expected her to suck, Max was fully prepared for Bell to be competent at everything she decided to do, so it was much to his amusement that she lost three matches in a row, her whole face turning red as she stomped like a toddler, "What the fuck, Max?!"

He chuckled at her expense, "how can you suck so bad at this!?" he said in a gleeful way and Bella flipped him off, looking around the place. There was a small smile tugging at the corner of her lip.

"I guess this town isn't that bad," she grumbled, then gestured to the vending machine, "oh they have White Claw, do you want one?"

Bella didn't wait for his answer as she jogged away and Max let out a happy sigh, rolling his eyes and leaning against the table. His foot was starting to throb, but it wasn't that bad, he just needed to get off of it soon. Maybe they could play cards?

Bell returned with the two cans, handing him one and leaning against the table as she drank, "so what else do you do around here for fun?"

"Get drunk at Stache's," Max leaned in to tell her, "it's a shady bar, at the corner of my street."

Bella snorted, grinning, "sounds great," she said, continuing to drink, "anything else? Because that's sad."

"Well, I hiked, but I clearly can't," he gestured to his foot, "I date around, too, I've been to one million first dates."

"Voluntarily?" The ginger frowned at him, "why'd anyone go to a million first dates by choice?"

"Spoken like a married woman," Max rolled his eyes, "first dates are fun, good food, fun chat-"

"No connection," Bella pointed out, "good sex, no emotional responsibility. I see you, Daniels."

Now his face turned red and Max shook his head quickly. Not that Bella was wrong, but he didn't... He couldn't even deny it, so he slammed his mouth shut and glared at her smug smile.

In all truth, he wasn't expecting the wave of shame that overcame him, as if he was doing something wrong for being single and hooking up around.

As if reading his mind, Bella frowned and poked his ribs, "hey, nothing wrong with sleeping around," she shrugged, "I just can't imagine willingly wanting to meet so many strangers."

He chuckled at her sour tone, then pointed at the air hockey table, "do you suck at that too?"

"You're such an asshole," Bella shoved his arm, hard, causing him to stumble and almost fall.

It wasn't a surprise that she was pleasant to be around, Max had already figured that out back in the cabin. He didn't expect it to be so much fun, though, truth be told.

They were both drunk, playing cards now, although the throbbing of his ankle was long forgotten due to the alcohol.

Bella's cheeks were red and she was muffling little burps against her fist as Max mopped the floor with her at UNO. How she was so incredibly bad at literally every game in existence was beyond him.

"Do you wanna end this? It's getting sad to watch you lose over and over," Max teased her, chuckling, and also because his stomach growled and his head was swimming. He had woken up late, so they had missed lunch and it was certainly catching up with him.

There were dark clouds in the sky, ready for a thunderstorm to start and the temperature was dropping quickly, and Max was not looking forward to limping through the parking lot- Oh no, Bella had driven to the community center. Ugh.

"Uhmmm, maybe," she slurred, planting an elbow on the table and cupping her forehead, "I don't feel so good."

Well, duh. Max rolled his eyes, he felt woozy and he was taller and bigger than Bella and hadn't drank as much as she did. In fact, if he didn't know know any better, he'd think she was drowning out feelings.

"Yeah, I can imagine," Max fished out his phone, "let's go outside and I'll try getting us an Uber."

He could count in one hand the amount of times he had successfully caught an Uber, there weren't many in Doveport and they always cancelled for some bloody reason.

Bella was blinking quickly, swaying on her feet as she got up and tried to help him with the crutch, "a ride? I drove here..."

"And you intend on driving us back, ginger?" Max winced as he didn't have a good handle of the crutch and it caused his foot to hit the ground, "so you can kill us?"

"You're so dramatic," Bella scoffed.

As soon as they were outside, Max leaned against the wall, taking deep breaths against the pain and steadying Bella by putting a hand on her elbow, "don't fall," he instructed, "so are you going to fess up on why you're here or...?"

"I told you," Bella frowned, her words sticking together. She let out another burp, wrinkling her nose and not seeming even the slightest bit embarrassed, "out of work... Bored."

"Why are you out of work?" Max asked, glancing back down at his phone and sighing heavily as the purple dot went from one side to the other in search of a driver. Bella stumbled next to him.

"Had a doctor's appointment in the morning, Luke insisted I take the whole day off," she scoffed, pressing her forehead to the wall and taking slow breaths, "mental health break."

Uh.

Max frowned, eyeing her up and down. She didn't look depressed or sick. But then if his years of teaching had taught him anything was that there was no "depressed" look, but less a "sick" look either.

"Do you need a mental health break?" Max asked, letting out a long suffering sigh as the app cancelled their trip.

Bella scoffed, shrugging, "Lucas certainly thinks I do," she said sourly, then her eyes lit up and suddenly she was straightening up, "Mr. Monacelli!"

Although they looked nothing alike, Max couldn't help but for a split second think it was Vince. Not only because Mr. Monacelli was how his students called Vin, but because Giuseppe was just as tall as his son was. However he had light brown hair, silver at the roots and with a bunch of grey strands peppered around, a grey beard and sparkly blue eyes.

"Isabella," he walked closer, with a soft smile, but a wrinkle between his brows. Again, nothing like Vince, but exactly like him too, Max thought, "what are you doing here, sweetheart?"

Bella gestured in Max's general direction, swaying a little on her feet, and Max immediately knew this didn't look good at all in the older man's eyes. Him, with a married woman, clearly drunk, all alone, in the middle of the week.

"Oh hi Max," Giuseppe offered a tight smile, planting a hand on Bella's shoulder and steadying her, "what's going on?"

Yeah, he was fucked.

"Vince sent her to babysit me and Bella's doing a poor job of it," Max said sardonically, deciding his best option was to rope in the man's son in case Giuseppe wanted to fact check this.

Bella let out a scoff, "I'm not babysitting," she grumbled, stumbling once more, "I'm visiting."

"Yes, alright, Isabella," Giuseppe's voice was soft, but his grip around Bella's shoulder tightened, he moved his arm to wrap around her waist, "you're drunk, bambina."

"It's Max's fault," Bella argued, easily falling into the older man's arms.

"OI?!" Max shrieked, "she's the one who got me drunk!"

Giuseppe pinched his nose bridge, "Max, zitto," he closed a hand in a shut up manner and the blonde scoffed, snapping his mouth shut and crossing his arms as the older man turned to Bella, "is Lucas here too, sweetheart?"

Bella shook her head, vehemently and stumbling as it caused the world to twirl. Max jumped to grab her before she collapsed, which was a bad move as he slammed his cast foot on the ground and his vision went white with the pain.

When he managed to get his senses back, now dizzy from the pain, Giuseppe was staring at him in a worried manner, holding Bella up with one arm, his free hand on Max's shoulder.

"Max?"

"I'm fine..." He rasped out, whole face burning from embarrassment. He didn't need Vince's dad babying him...

"Uh-hu," Giuseppe rolled his eyes, "I'm driving you home," he decided, turning to Bella with a frown on as she squirmed in his hold, "Isabella, quit it."

As if he was her father, Bella's face blushed and she immediately stopped struggling, mumbling an embarrassed, "sorry, Mr. Monacelli..."

Max sat in the front, while Mr. Monacelli put Bell in the back of his car and she collapsed immediately, curling up. The older man had a big frown on, lips pressed in a thin line, but he didn't say a word.

Only when ten minutes passed did Max realize that the older man was not driving back to his place, but back to the Monacelli's house. He let out a groan, "Mr. Monacelli, I need to go home-"

"Shut it, Max," the man snapped at him, "you're staying for dinner and then you can explain to Lucas what happened."

Oh. Great.

"It was not my fault! She's a grown woman-" Max started to defend himself, only for Bella to let out a little groan in the backseat at the loud noise.

"M'dizzy..." She slurred and Giuseppe's hold on the steering wheel tightened as he threw a worried look back.

"Are you going to be sick, bambina?"

Bella shook her head, forcing herself to sit up and promptly nearly smacking her head against the window.

"No..." She leaned forward, so she was sitting directly behind the driver's seat and pressing her forehead to it. A hiccup shook her, "don't think so..."

Max cringed, he didn't believe her for a second.

"She's absolutely gonna hurl," he said and Giuseppe let out a scoff.

He parked in front of his house, rushing to help Bella out of the car, but she wasn't sick. Instead, her knees gave up on her and the older man let out a Oof as he caught her, picking Bella up bridal style and huffing.

"Max, can you get the door?"

He could, although it was a struggle to limp ahead with the crutches and the nauseating pain that was starting to wrap all the way from his foot to his knee. Max was ready for this day to be over.

Instead of trying the keys, since his hands were sweaty and shaky, he simply pressed the doorbell. There was movement inside and then the door opened, to Livia's face.

"BABBO- Ah," she jumped back, spooked, "you're not babbo..."

"LIVIA HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET THE DOOR-" Ma yelled, rushing to the front door just as Giuseppe caught up with them. Her eyebrows jumped up and she mouthed around nothing, before asking, flabbergasted, "che cazzo è questo?!"

Giuseppe responded also in Italian, his voice strained, and Bella let out a little groan as they entered further the house and she was deposited on the couch.

Livia made a movement to follow her parents into the living room, but Max planted a hand on her shoulder, "hey kiddo," he said softly, "aren't you supposed to be in class?"

Her face lit up at being directly addressed and she shook her head, "babbo said I could skip," she wrinkled her nose, "Soph did, to go on a trip with Vinny."

Max snorted, rolling his eyes and pushing the front door closed, ushering the little girl inside, "you wanted to tag along?"

She was a Monacelli through and through, because Livia didn't need any incentive to start blabbing, taking him by the hand and guiding him around, unbothered by Max's limping.

"You, sit down," Giuseppe said roughly, moving a chair from the dining room with his foot and scooping up his youngest child, pointing at Max.

He obeyed, whole body collapsing as the pain made his head swim, and Max gulped down the nausea prickling all over him. He wasn't sure if this was due to the White Claw wanting revenge or just the constant throbbing pain.

"I called Luke," Ma announced, walking into the dining room, "and she's sleeping- You look sick, sweetheart," her dark brows connected as she took in Max, "are you drunk as well?"

Livia let out a gasp, pulling back so she could look at her father, "Bella's drunk?"

Max cringed, then shook his head and gestured at his cast, "just need to let it rest."

"And he's also drunk," Giuseppe rolled his eyes, while Ma planted her hands on her hips. Max wanted to vanish, he couldn't remember a single instance in his whole life where his parents had cared this much and he had no idea of how act around the Monacellis. Besides that, there was the undercurrent of shame, over the fact Bella had drank herself into passing out.

"She's fine," Ma said as if she could read his mind, walking out of the room and returning a second later holding a tiny plastic chair so Max could rest his leg up.

He leaned back his head, trying to wipe the clamminess off and then felt Ma's hand coming to cup his cheek, "are you alright?" she sounded very soft, but Max didn't buy that for a second. She was hot blooded, he knew from all the parent-teacher meetings and from how Vince talked about her.

"I'm fine," he nodded, only for Ma to squint at him.

"I'll get you some water," she decided, buzzing around.

Max craned his neck, letting out a sigh, so he could see Bella curled up and asleep. What a day.

It was way later at night when Luke pulled up.

They had just finished dinner and Max no longer felt like he was intruding, or like he was going to be sick. His ankle was still killing him, but neither Ma nor Giuseppe let him get up at all, so that helped.

Bell had woken up just thirty minutes before and she looked beyond embarrassed. It was clear she wished the ground would open up and swallow her as she whispered with Mr. Monacelli, repeating herself in what Max could tell was a chanting apology, even from afar.

She refused to meet Luke's eyes as he walked in the house and hugged Ma, planting a kiss on her temple.

"Thank you, ma," Max overheard his deep voice and curiosity got the best of him as he used the table to pull himself up, pain be damned, and limped to the living room.

Lucas' eyes sparkled as they saw him, clearly furious, but he didn't say a thing, waiting patiently for his wife.

"And her car?" Max asked, taking a sip of his cool water, leaning heavily against the wall, "it's at my place."

"I'll get it this weekend," Luke's didn't even look at him, grinding his teeth, "Isabella?"

"I'm going," she finished putting her shoes back on and then hugged Ma, apologizing once more... Then stood in front of Max and he raised his eyebrows, surprised. He fully expected her to leave without saying goodbye.

"I'm sorry I put you in this situation," Bella's cheeks were red, her voice small and embarrassed, "but we had a great day today... So thank you, for helping me take my mind off."

"No problem," Max shrugged, "too bad the fun police got here so soon," the words were out of his mouth before he could think them through and from the corner of his eye he saw Luke's face blanching, fists rolling up.

Bella scoffed, "don't say that," she grumbled, before leaning in and kissing his cheek, "I'll see you around, Daniels."

Then she stepped closer to Luke, who didn't put his arm around her at all, only waved to the older couple and stepped back so Bell could step out of the house and into the car.

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and felt a pat to his back, Giuseppe squeezing his shoulder, "come sit back down, son."

---------

Bella knew Luke was pissed.

And that he had every right to be, so she didn't even try to say a word as they got in the car and drove off of Doveport. His shoulders were so tense, they were up to his ears and Luke was squeezing the steering wheel, looking straight ahead.

Her head was still swimming, even though she had eaten some crackers at the Monacellis, and Bella felt grossly hungover. Morally and physically.

She had acted like a teenager and the embarrassment was killing her.

It was only when they crossed the limits of Welton, three hours later since Luke had been speeding, that Bella dared to speak up. She was feeling beyond carsick, head spinning and stomach sour, but there was a much more pressing issue at hand, which was apologizing.

"Luke-"

"Uhm?" He grumbled, not looking her way, and Bella gulped down the knot in her throat.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning on her seat in order to squeeze his arm, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a total fool out of myself, I didn't-" she swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth and Luke let out a scoff.

"I'm not pissed because you're drunk," he shrugged her hand off his arm as if it was burning him and Bella's eyes prickled, "we'll talk tomorrow-"

"No," she shook her head quickly, "I don't want to talk tomorrow, I want- I'm sorry, Luke, I really am-"

"You didn't leave me a fucking note, Isabella!" Lucas whisper yelled, as they stopped at a red light, "you just up and left!? Do you have any idea how worried I was!? All I knew is you had the doctor's appointment and then I come home and you're not here, hours later, was I not supposed to be terrified!?"

Bella let out a sniffle, "I didn't think- I was going to call you, I just- I lost track of the hour and Max wasn't looking at me all worried like you are recently and it felt nice-"

"So it's my fault?" Luke echoed, shocked, "don't you fucking try to-"

"I'm not saying that!" Bella snapped, hitting the glovebox to shut him up, "I'm saying- I'm saying I'm sorry! Okay? I'm really sorry I worried you and I'm sorry I acted like a drunk teenager and I'm sorry I'm putting you through this right after everything, I- I'm sorry!"

Behind them a car honked, causing the couple to jump and Luke to curse silently at the green light.

He didn't say anything and Bella curled up even more on her seat, feeling a pang on her chest. She wanted to comforted by him, but guilt was eating at her.

"Luke... Please say something..."

"How was the doctor's appointment?" his voice was hoarse and Bella flinched at the sound, mentally beating herself up for making him so sad.

"It- It was fine..."

He leveled her with a glare and Bella tried to gulp down the knot in her throat once more, but couldn't.

"It was scary," she said in a tiny voice, avoiding his eyes, "it was scary and she did an ultrasound and a- a pelvic exam..." and she deeply regretted not asking Luke to tag along, as Bella had not at all be prepared for the emotional impact of having the pregnancy loss confirmed, the invasiveness of the follow up exams and the questioning about her family history, as if it was her fault. She shook with a little hiccup and pressed her knuckles to her mouth, looking out of the window, "and it sucked."

Luke stopped the car, pressing his hands to his face and letting out a frustrated groan, clearly thorn between being caring and being hurt, "is that why you left?"

Bella did a little nod, "a day off was not a good idea," she explained, carefully keeping any accusation from her words, although it had been him who pressed her to take the whole day off, "I couldn't stay home, I was driving myself insane... And you were at work, so was everyone else, and- And then Vince sent a text about being worried that Max was alone and I figured-"

"He texted you about Max?" Lucas sounded dumbfounded and Bella let out a watery chuckle as he choose this to latch on, out of all things.

"We have a group chat without you," she mumbled and her voice wavered. Bella looked out of the window, they were in front of their house. Her stomach churned once again and she threw her door open, but didn't get out fully, only turned on her seat so she was facing the grass, trying to breath through the nausea.

"Oh baby..." She heard Luke whisper, then felt his hand on her back and the guilt bubbling inside of her stomach spilled over, causing Bella to lurch forward as she retched up the foamy White Claw.

She shrugged his hand off her back, coughing up another rush of burning liquid, "go inside-"

"Bell-"

"Please," Bella sniffled, muffling a burp against her hand and groaning as she wiped the liquid off her chin, "please, go inside."

He hesitated, but then she heard the noise of the driver's door opening and closing, followed by Luke's footsteps disappearing as he entered their house.

Bella let out a groan, using her free hand to grab at her hair, before shoving two fingers inside her mouth and forcing up the rest of the alcohol still burning inside her stomach. It took two more retches, before she started to empty heave, the tears she refused to drop burning her eyes.

Bella sniffled, wiping her hands on her jeans and using the car to steady herself as she got out, walking back home. The front door was not only unlocked, obviously, but open wide and Bella sighed as she leaned on it to close it.

Luke was nowhere in sight, so she walked upstairs, straight to the bathroom to take a shower and get rid of the alcohol smell and the shame.

Lucas was sitting on their bed when she walked out of the bathroom, wearing his shirt and some loose shorts, and he opened his arms for her to come closer, despite the frown he sported.

Bella didn't need any further invitation, crawling on the bed and throwing herself over him, wrapping her arms around his neck, "I'm really sorry," she mumbled against his shirt, "I didn't mean to hurt you..."

She felt him nod, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I know... I'm sorry I forced you to take the day off," Lucas wrapped his arms tightly around her, "I didn't think you'd be all alone here, stewing on it..."

Bella sighed, clutching his shirt, "doesn't justify my behavior, Lucas."

"Yeah, I know, I'm pissed," he scoffed, but his hand rubbing up and down her back disproved that, "I love you, okay? Even if I'm pissed."

Bella's whole body melted, all the tension vanishing as she curled up against him, "I love you too. Even when I'm an idiot."

"Uhm," he chuckled, vibrating deep in his chest, "but you'll deal with Ma when she calls for the rest of the gossip."

"Yeah, alright. Deal," Bella opened a little smile, pressing a kiss over his shirt.

[melodtreads]

What you should leave behing and blindly go into? ~ PICK A PILE

PILE 1

You are stuck on a rigid path that you have followed your whole life. And the reason you are stuck here is because it is secure. Everything is planned out perfectly and goes by the book. It is a sure way to success. But is it what you really want? Of course, you do want success, but your soul will never stop wondering about the what ifs. And you also know that trying other paths means giving up on the security that you have right now. You can’t balance both of them. It is okay for you to venture around. It is scary, since despite your curiosity, you are not quite sure about what you actually want. On the same page, you don’t see those things quite as they are, they are still a dream to you and we all like to put rose colored glasses on our dreams. But the cards also push you to jump into the uknown. It will be a situation of trial and failure, but it will also be the way to the happiest version of yourself. All these trials will open your eyes to your true and self and make you revalue everything that you have known.

PILE 2

You have been having financial problems recently. You do have enough money to go by, but it is just that. Your job provides you just enough to survive. Despite the fact that you would want more, you are scared of leaving what you have right now. This job is easy for you, you know everyhting about it that there is to know, and if you were to go for something bigger, you would either have to work way harder or put yourself financially at risk (some of you would like to open their own business), which to be fair, it doesn’t sound that appealing. But you will be stuck here forever if you don’t do anything. Go for the risk. I am not promising you fields with flowers, but it needs to be done if you want to have more than just enough. It will be hard. You will sometimes feel overworked and some days you will feel stuck, almost regreting your decisions. But this is what it need to be done to achieve that greater future. This is the first step to you succcess. Go for it.

PILE 3

I know that our generation is all about doing what feels right to you, but that message is not for you. You have been doing what you want your whole life. And yes, you sometimes are right about what you are doing, but that’s it. Only sometimes. You are self-sabotaging at this point. Your actions are going against your higher self. And the only reason behind your actions is “it is what I wanted”. Well, I am sorry to break it to you, but what you want is not always what you need. You will never go further just by doing what you feel like doing. Start doing the uncomfortable and the unwanted. If you don’t know something, learn it. It is never too late for that. If the thing looks boring, find the motivation to do it. Learn some discipline. Learn to listen to your head in raport to your heart.

PILE 4

Your life is great, you are living the dream. You are doing what you want, you are accomplishing each of your wishes. It seems that you are also travelling a lot. You have seen many things and have been to all kinds of different places. Although this life is great for you, maybe it is time to start settling down. I am not saying that you should leave everything behind and stay in one place. But there will be a point in your life when you will just want to relax at your place in your own comfort zone. You should start investing into that place. All the things that you are doing now are great, but they are not forever. And again, I am not saying you will give them up, but you will want them less at one point. Having a settlement already yours will be perfect for when that time comes.

PILE 5

You have been going through a path of transformation lately. And this may be because it feels like nothing is going right for you and it has been stressing you out. You work for something, you put all of your sweat into it and when you are about to receive all your rewards, everything ends up getting ruined, as if the universe keeps giving you lessons to toughen you up. But have you ever wondered if maybe you are trying to take too much control over the situation. Learn to let go of the things that you can’t control (especially if you have a lot of 8 house placements in your birth chart). You will only get your rewards when you will let things that are meant for you happen to you. Surrender, learn to trust the universe. Know that it will always have your back and will always lead you to your best future, no matter how the present looks. Don’t force things to move your way. Move with the things.

PILE 6

It seems that you have a habit of moving from connection to connection. You find someone, you seem to click, and just before you allow things to go deeper, you leave. Are you one of those people who stop being attracted to the person as soon as the chase stops? Even if you are the one stopping the conncection most of the time, you still find foolish reasons to why you left, like “he wasn’t tall enough”, or “she watches only comedy shows”. You should put more effort if you want a genuine connection. Know that you getting a partner doesn’t mean people coming and trying to fit your standards (which are most likely there just because you are afraid of commitment and not because you actually care about those things). Getting a partner is you getting to know someone and embracing as they are just as you want them to do with you. They are a person just like you. Start looking for things that you like in them and stick to them no matter how uncomfortable it feels. This is not me saying that if you do that, you will have the perfection relationship and nothing will go wrong. It is me saying that even if something happens, accept that it wasn’t because you are unworthy. A lot of them may leave no matter how much effort you put into the realtionship. But one of them will be the perfect person for you, who is just right. And you will miss mess if you keep doing what you are doing.

[movingmusically]

What Are Friends For? - Chapter 1

Series Synopsis: Callum Turner thinks he’s a genius matchmaker. Angie, his best friend, thinks he’s meddling. Austin? He’s just curious. But as sparks fly, one question lingers—is this just a fleeting moment, or something worth holding on to?

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist

I’ve known Callum Turner since before I could walk—literally. Our mums were inseparable from the antenatal classes all the way through to playgroups. We were born three days apart, grew up living opposite each other on a quiet street in West London, and spent so much time together that people used to joke we were like twins.

In a way, they weren’t wrong. He’s the brother I never had, my partner-in-crime for as long as I can remember. The kind of friend you can scream at one minute and laugh with the next, no grudges, no pretence. We’ve been through everything together—bruised knees, first crushes, exam stress, and all the rest of it.

Now he’s off being an actor, doing incredible things, while I’ve stayed behind in the “real world.” Teaching primary school isn’t glamorous, but it’s solid. It’s meaningful. And while I’d never say it out loud, part of me envies the freedom Callum’s life offers—the chance to take big risks and chase something extraordinary.

So when he called me a few months back, buzzing with the news about Masters of the Air, I couldn’t help but feel proud of him. He was practically bouncing through the phone, telling me about the part, the cast, the bootcamp they’d be doing. “It’s a proper World War Two epic,” he’d said. “You’d love it, Ange. You’re the expert, after all.”

The “expert” part was pushing it, but he wasn’t wrong about my love for the era. It started with my Nan’s stories—tales of bomb shelters, rationing, and dancing with American soldiers. She made that time sound equal parts terrifying and magical. When she passed a few years ago, I started writing about it, trying to weave her stories into something meaningful. Not that anyone’s read it.

“You’ll have to let me visit the set,” I’d teased Callum.

“Absolutely,” he’d promised. “Though you might have to cook me a roast first.”

Now, standing in my tiny kitchen on a grey Sunday afternoon, I was realising he hadn’t been joking. Callum had insisted on coming home for the day, and of course, I couldn’t say no. It had been ages since we’d caught up properly. But the mention of a “plus one” came only yesterday.

“Don’t stress,” Callum had said over the phone. “He’s just a mate. You’ll get on great.”

The buzzer rang, and I wiped my hands on my apron before pressing the intercom. “Come on up,” I said, unlocking the door. A moment later, footsteps echoed in the stairwell, followed by a familiar knock.

I pulled the door open to find Callum grinning like the cat that got the cream. Beside him stood a man I didn’t recognise. A beautiful man. Striking, really, with sandy blonde hair and sharp features that belonged on the cover of a glossy magazine. His piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, and for a second, I forgot how to speak.

Callum beamed. “Angie, meet Austin. Austin, Angie.”

Austin shifted slightly, offering a small smile. “Hey. Thanks for having me.”

His voice was warm, low but unassuming, and for some reason, that grounded me more than anything else. I blinked, recovering from my momentary lapse into silence, and stepped aside. “Oh—yeah, of course. Come in.”

Callum breezed past me first, kicking off his shoes without a care in the world, while Austin followed more carefully, glancing around my flat with quiet interest. I suddenly became hyper-aware of everything—the books stacked on my coffee table, the slightly wonky gallery wall I’d been meaning to fix, the faint smell of roast chicken lingering in the air.

“It smells amazing in here,” Austin said, his smile soft but genuine.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s a bloody domestic goddess,” Callum called over his shoulder as he collapsed onto my sofa, sprawling out like he owned the place. “You’ll never eat a better roast in your life, mate.”

I rolled my eyes, untying my apron as I followed them in. “Don’t oversell it, Cal. It’s just a roast.”

“No, it’s the roast,” Callum corrected, before turning to Austin. “I’ve had Michelin-star meals that don’t come close to this.”

Austin let out a quiet laugh, looking at me. “That true?”

I shook my head, smirking. “He’s full of it. But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

Austin nodded like he was taking mental notes, then hesitated for half a second. “Do you need any help with anything?”

The offer surprised me. I was used to Callum doing absolutely nothing when it came to meals, except for showing up and eating. I waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, it’s all under control. You can make yourself comfortable.”

Austin seemed to consider that for a moment before choosing a seat at the table, resting his forearms on the wood. He was relaxed, but not in an arrogant way—more like someone who was perfectly fine just observing for now. Callum, meanwhile, was already flicking through the books on my coffee table.

“Oh, come on,” I sighed. “At least pretend you’re a guest.”

“I am a guest,” he shot back. “A regular guest. I’m like—like an honorary flatmate.”

“You're not even in the city most of the time,” I pointed out.

“Details,” Callum said, dismissing me with a wave. “The point is, Austin, my dear friend, you’re in for a treat.”

Austin chuckled, glancing between us. “You guys really are like siblings.”

I huffed, heading back toward the kitchen to check on the gravy. “Unfortunately.”

Callum grinned. “You love it.”

I didn’t dignify that with an answer.

By the time we sat down to eat, the atmosphere had settled into something easier, more familiar. Callum had always had a way of making a room feel alive, and Austin—while quieter—seemed to absorb it rather than deflect it. He wasn’t trying to keep up or match Callum’s energy, but he wasn’t shrinking back either.

“So, how do you two know each other?” I asked as I passed Austin the potatoes.

“Work,” Callum said through a mouthful of food. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” I echoed dryly. “I mean, how? Did they stick you in a room together and tell you to bond?”

“Pretty much,” Austin said, amusement flickering in his expression. “Bootcamp started a few weeks before we began filming, so we were thrown together pretty quickly.”

“You mean torture camp,” Callum corrected. “It was brutal, Ange. You’d have cried.”

I shot him a look. “Wow, thanks.”

“You know what I mean.” He waved his fork at me. “You don’t do military nonsense.”

“No, I don’t do your nonsense,” I muttered. Then I glanced at Austin, curious. “Was that the training thing Cal mentioned? Was it really that bad?”

Austin hesitated, as if weighing his answer. “It was intense. But I get why they did it. They wanted us to feel like a unit.”

“And did you?” I asked.

His gaze flicked toward Callum, then back to me. “Yeah,” he said simply. “I think we did.”

Callum grinned. “See? That’s soldier talk right there.”

Austin rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

The conversation meandered between filming, travel, and Callum’s usual over-the-top stories. Austin listened more than he spoke, but when he did chime in, his words carried weight. He wasn’t just nodding along—he was engaged, asking me questions about my job, my life, like he actually cared to know the answers.

“So, Callum tells me you’re a teacher?” he asked at one point.

“Yeah, Year Four,” I said. “Mostly wrangling kids, trying to get them to listen.”

Austin smiled. “That’s impressive. I bet it takes a lot of patience.”

“Some days more than others,” I admitted. “But they’re great. Keeps life interesting.”

“I believe it,” he said. “My mom ran daycare out of our house when I was a kid. Always a full house. I don’t know how she did it.”

That caught my attention. “So you grew up surrounded by kids?”

“Pretty much,” he said. “I got good at sharing.”

That made me laugh. “Wish I could say the same about my lot. They’d fight over air if I let them.”

Austin chuckled. “I feel like that’s just kids in general.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, shaking my head. “Still. They’re brilliant. Exhausting, but brilliant.”

Austin didn’t look away, and I found myself holding his gaze for just a beat longer than necessary before I cleared my throat and reached for my drink.

After dinner, Callum predictably migrated back to the sofa, stretching out like he had no plans to move for the next several hours. Austin, however, surprised me.

“Let me help,” he said, standing and gathering his plate.

“You don’t have to,” I said automatically.

“I want to,” he replied simply.

I hesitated, then nodded toward the kitchen. “Alright. If you insist.”

He followed me in, rolling up his sleeves before reaching for the drying rack. “That was seriously good,” he said as I ran the tap. “Callum wasn’t lying.”

“He usually is,” I joked, elbowing him lightly. “But I appreciate that.”

Austin chuckled, taking a plate from me to dry. “Does he always invite himself over like this?”

“Like clockwork,” I said. “It started when we were kids. He realised my mum made better Sunday dinners than his and never left.”

Austin smirked. “Smart man.”

“Debatable.”

We worked in comfortable silence for a minute before he spoke again. “So, Callum mentioned you’re into World War Two history?”

I paused. “Did he?”

Austin nodded. “Said your Nan had stories.”

I swallowed, focusing on rinsing a glass. “Yeah. She grew up during the war. She used to tell me about it all the time.”

“That’s amazing,” Austin said, genuine interest in his voice. “You must’ve learned a lot from her.”

“I did,” I said softly. “She made it feel real.”

Austin studied me for a moment, as if he wanted to ask something else, but instead, he just nodded. “That’s really cool.”

I exhaled, forcing myself to relax. I hadn’t expected that conversation to affect me, but something about the way he listened—really listened—made me feel oddly seen.

And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

With the dishes done, we moved into the living room, where Callum had sprawled himself out on the sofa like he owned the place. I settled into the armchair across from him, while Austin took the spot beside Callum, resting his forearm on the back of the sofa, looking perfectly at ease but not overconfident.

The conversation drifted between light topics—London weather (predictably unpredictable), the state of Callum’s flat (“a disaster zone,” according to him), and the absurdity of filming in wool uniforms during a heatwave. Then, during a lull, I turned to Austin.

“So,” I said, tucking my legs under myself, “what else have you worked on? I’ll be honest—I haven’t seen much of Callum’s castmates’ work. He tends to just tell me they’re ‘brilliant’ and leave it at that.”

Austin let out a quiet laugh but hesitated before answering. He rubbed his hands together absently, as if weighing his words. “Uh, a few things here and there,” he said finally, his voice even. “Mostly smaller roles until recently.”

“He’s being modest,” Callum cut in, nudging him with his elbow. “You should’ve seen him in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Absolutely terrifying.”

I blinked. “Wait—you were in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood? I’ve seen that!”

Austin gave a small, almost sheepish smile, a faint flush creeping up his neck. “I played Tex.”

The name clicked instantly, and my eyes widened. “The guy in the ranch scene? That was you?”

He nodded, ducking his head slightly like he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. “Yeah, that was me.”

“That’s insane,” I said, leaning back. “I remember watching that scene and thinking, ‘This guy is way too good at being creepy.’ No offence.”

“None taken,” he replied with a quiet laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “That was the goal, after all.”

“Tarantino helped, I bet,” Callum added, taking a sip of his drink. “But seriously, tell her about Elvis.”

Austin shot him a quick look, somewhere between exasperated and amused, but Callum wasn’t about to let it go.

“He just wrapped filming on Elvis,” Callum announced, grinning like he was proud of himself for being the first to say it. “Spent two years working on it. Two years!”

“Almost,” Austin corrected, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was… a lot. A lot of prep, a lot of music, a lot of late nights.”

“Two years?” I echoed, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s… intense. I can’t imagine staying in someone else’s head for that long.”

Austin nodded, his gaze dropping briefly to his hands. “It was one of those roles where you don’t really have a choice. You either give it everything, or you don’t do it at all.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to imagine what that kind of commitment must have felt like. Callum had told me before about getting lost in characters, but there was something different about the way Austin spoke—like the experience still lingered with him, its weight undeniable but not unwelcome.

“That must’ve been overwhelming,” I said carefully, unsure how much to press.

“It was,” he admitted, his voice steady as his eyes met mine again. “But it was worth it. I learned a lot—about the music, about him, about myself.”

Callum, mercifully, took the reins, raising his glass in a mock toast. “He killed it. I’ve seen clips. Absolutely smashed it.”

Austin shook his head, smiling faintly. “It’s not out yet, so we’ll see what people think. You never know how something like that will land.”

“If you’re even half as good as you were in bootcamp, it’ll be amazing,” Callum said confidently.

“High praise,” I quipped, grateful for the chance to lighten the mood. “Callum doesn’t usually compliment anyone who might outshine him.”

“Oi!” Callum protested, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

Austin laughed, the sound rich and low, his earlier heaviness lifting just enough to make the moment feel lighter again.

And just like that, the evening settled into something easy—Callum cracking jokes, Austin chiming in with dry humour, and me, caught between the two of them, realising that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a bad way to spend a Sunday.

Monday morning came too quickly.

One minute, I was sitting in my flat, laughing with Callum and Austin, half a glass of wine in my hand and no real obligations beyond tidying up. The next, I was back in the real world, standing in my classroom at 8 a.m., trying to summon the energy to wrangle a group of nine-year-olds into being remotely functional human beings for the day.

The contrast was almost comical.

I stacked the last of the exercise books on my desk, exhaling as I glanced around the room. The weekend already felt like a strange, detached memory—like something I’d watched happen to someone else rather than lived myself. That, or I’d dreamt the whole thing.

Except I hadn’t.

I’d met Austin Butler. He’d been in my flat, eating my food, washing my dishes. He’d laughed at my jokes. And, perhaps most disorientingly, he’d listened to me—really listened.

Not that it mattered now. I had a full day of lessons ahead, and the only people listening to me today would be my students, who, judging by the volume level in the corridor, were already far too awake for a Monday morning.

Midday—The Staff Room

“…And then he says, ‘Angie, meet Austin,’ like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Meanwhile, I’m standing there like an idiot, trying to remember how to speak.”

Zara, a Year Three teacher and my closest work friend, let out an exaggerated gasp, nearly spilling her tea. “Wait, wait, Austin Butler? Are you kidding?”

“Not kidding,” I said, stabbing at my pasta salad with my fork. “I had no clue who he was. Just thought, ‘Wow, this guy is stupidly attractive.’”

“That’s because he is stupidly attractive.” She leaned forward. “Angie. Angie. This man played Elvis.”

“Technically, not yet,” I corrected. “The film isn’t out.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t do that thing where you act like this is normal. You had Austin Butler in your flat, eating your roast dinner, probably having a borderline religious experience because Yorkshire puddings aren’t a thing in America—”

“I don’t think it was religious—”

“—and you didn’t realise who he was?”

“I don’t live under a rock,” I said, exasperated. “I knew Callum’s new co-star was called Austin. I just hadn’t seen his films, and Callum’s descriptions of people are always useless.”

Zara groaned, flopping back in her chair. “I cannot believe you just casually had dinner with him.”

“It wasn’t a date,” I pointed out.

“Yet,” she shot back.

I rolled my eyes, but before I could argue, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch.

Zara sighed dramatically. “You’re lucky I love my class, otherwise I’d stay here and interrogate you for another half hour.”

“Your class is adorable,” I agreed, standing up.

“So are you and Austin, apparently.” She winked before slipping out the door, leaving me shaking my head as I headed back to my classroom.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted. Monday always took it out of me, but today felt worse than usual. Maybe it was the mental whiplash—going from sipping wine with an A-lister (who I hadn’t even known was an A-lister at the time) to breaking up an argument between two nine-year-olds over whose turn it was to be goalie at lunchtime.

I dropped onto my sofa with a sigh, already thinking about ordering takeaway, when my phone buzzed.

Callum: Did you survive Monday?

I huffed a laugh and typed back: Barely. Back to reality and all that.

A second later, another message popped up.

Callum: Austin says thanks for dinner. Also, he thinks you’re cool.

I frowned at my phone. What does that mean?

Me: I’m cool? That’s a vague review.

Callum: Mate, just take the compliment.

I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself.

I hovered for a second, debating whether to ask something before my curiosity got the better of me.

Me: So… what’s his deal?

Callum: What do you mean?

Me: Like… he seems quieter than the guys you usually hang out with. More serious. Is he always like that?

A pause. Then—

Callum: Yeah, he’s a good one. He thinks a lot before he speaks. And he’s proper dedicated to his work. Probably the most disciplined person I’ve met, if I’m honest.

That didn’t surprise me. I’d sensed something like that when Austin talked about Elvis—the way his voice had changed, the weight in his words.

I chewed on my lip before typing:

Me: What’s he like outside of work?

Callum: Why, you interested?

I groaned. I walked straight into that one.

Me: Forget I asked.

Callum: Nah, nah, I love this. Let’s unpack it.

Me: I hate you.

Callum: You love me.

I was about to throw my phone across the room when another message came through.

Callum: Just come to brunch on Sunday. You’ll see for yourself.

[aropride]

thirteen-chase coworkers-with-benefits relationship is a fascinating concept to me ... i don't think they WOULD (thirteen's too self aware and also smart enough not to fuck a coworker, chase hopefully learned his don't-fuck-your-coworkers lesson from cameron and i like to think that at some point he realizes his hypersexuality is unhealthy, and iirc thirteen isn't even on the team for a fair portion of chase's big half-of-new-jersey-all-of-ppth moment anyway-- also both of them are impossible communicators)- but i think they COULD and it would make sense to in a way. i think they are both very unwell and they have very bad relationships with sex and their own boundaries so if they WERE going to be fwbs like i said it'd either go really well or really bad

i think really bad is the most likely outcome. and that's the one where it's fueled mainly by their own self-destructive tendencies & using sex as a coping mechanism, & complicated by chase's reluctance to say no and thirteen's reluctance to speak vulnerably with people. like they would be like. so if YOURE using hypersexuality as a coping mechanism and IM using hypersexuality as a coping mechanism and we're coworkers well we can work something out here. Lead to them endangering their professional lives within a month because they both keep compulsively skipping work to go have sex or staying up all night to have sex with each other. this makes their work dynamic weird which makes the team's work dynamic weird which makes house go. can you people stop fucking before i slip paroxetine in your morning coffees maybe it'll make you happier AND less horny. and eventually they do start bc they start getting weird about it and they refuse to talk about the fact that theyre getting weird about it and it's A Whole Thing that stretches on way too long because they just won't Talk To Each Other

the other option. requires both of them to heal enough to be able to understand their specific boundaries with sex and also communicate them. but i do think if they sat down and were like. "im working on being normal and safe about sex do u want to do it one time for fun". and then theyre like waittt that is fun we should do it multiple times in a way that does not interfere with our daily life and is healthy and safe both physically and emotionally. and then they do and it's a fun and healing experience for both of them. and they become closer friends bc they have to actually talk about like. their feelings and such. on account of The way these characters all Are this would be incredibly unlikely but i want one (1) good thing to happen to either of them so bad.

depending on timing chase and thirteen would have either the worst most unhealthy most hypersexuality-driven life-ruining soul-destroying coworkers-with-benefits relationship that would fuck up their friendship and work lives forever. Or they would be each others therapists and stay up late talking and practicing talking about their feelings and experiences out loud with their mouths. occasionally share a joint and watch cars drive by on the porch type of deal. as best friends who kiss sometimes

[xwiredearbuds2014x]

[virgothozul]

Ok. I have listened to the people. I have watched the thing. It is very wholesome.

Kazu comes home. He is hopeless and tipsy. And he swings between excited and wasted.

[britneyshakespeare]

you know i don't bring this up as a light anecdote because it involves me being talked about in really perverted ways behind my back. but when i was like 20 i was part of this large group of friends that was mostly a bunch of guys, and a couple of girlfriends. and the energy if you were a girl starting to hang around them was like. "ok, so who are you gonna hook up with/date?" and it didn't last long bc of course when the answer ended up being "well none of you," the patience they had for me evaporated. lol. so i was being talked about among literally every single one of them behind my back in a gigantic group chat, of like literally everyone in the original group chat (including the ppl who never fucking used it, and it was over twelve people) minus a few other ppl they didn't like, decidedly. and eventually one of my GOOD friends (that i am still friends w to this day) told me about it and then there was the whole drama of people not being able to accept consequences for their actions, not owning up to being cowardly bullies, etc... yawn yawn yawn. truly that was some stupid middle school shit from a bunch of immature ppl that i didn't really take to heart. not the guys, anyway. i was honestly very hurt by a couple of girls who partook in it though, that i thought genuinely liked me and who i genuinely liked in return, so that was shocking to me.

but anyway. after this all happened my sister went OFF on this one guy in particular. bc he had been a nuisance before. he was a slimy creep honestly. i used to feel a lot of pity for him bc i thought he was just sad and wanted attention but that was just my 20-year-old nonsense brain way of interpreting it. he was incredibly annoying and would wear girls down, would hop from one girl to another week after week, each one not reciprocating his constant desperate flirting and lovebombing. and there was a joke he participated in about me and my (also queer, female) friend that was particularly crossing a line. so kaily just ripped this guy a new one when he went to try and offer an explanation. like imagine trying to even talk to someone after you just humiliated and bullied their sister... couldn't be me. like i was literally the one being bullied in this instant but i can't imagine the kind of white hot rage i'd be in if someone did that to my sister. you know? so yeah.

at the end of this rant kaily told him "go to hell." you know. like fuck off. go fuck yourself. go to hell. good old indecent words to throw out at someone you loathe, right? i'm literally ONLY bringing this up because i cannot stop thinking, all these years later, about how one of the girls who participated in it, and was the least apologetic about it (in fact weirdly a year later she came back just to taunt me again and tell me how much better her life is without me and how stupid i was for breaking up a 'wonderful' friend group?? yeah that sounds like the behavior of someone who is over it)... i don't remember where but someone told me she talked particularly about that message to that guy and said "kaily told (name) to burn in hell" like. like that whole time she interpreted my sister as like a conservative christian who was calling him a dirty sinner. bc presumably she had never heard the phrase "go to hell" in a non-literal context before, or just never understood it?? like that girl didn't necessarily strike me as incredibly bright or something, in the short time i knew her, but i never would've guessed she could be so dumb...

but for the record that pervert guy yeah he is gonna burn in hell.

[enfinizatics]

dear americans,

as a polish queer woman and human rights activist, i know exactly how you're feeling right now and what to expect from these elections. i lived through the 2015-2023 regime of pis, a right-wing populist party that divided families in the same way trump did. i’ve experienced the rise of fascism in poland, the influence of far-right parties like konfederacja, and their “santa’s little helpers”—ordo iuris, an ultra-conservative catholic organization (banned in many countries, mind you) that helped enforce a near-total abortion ban and runs anti-queer campaigns in public spaces. i supported the black protests in 2016 as a middle schooler when they first tried to ban abortion. as an adult, i actively participated in the 2020 women’s strike, running from police tear gas daily after they finally passed the ban. i supported friends who faced charges.

i’ve lived through intense homophobia in poland as a queer teen and adult. i survived the first pride march in my hometown, where far-right extremists threw stones and glass at us. i endured the anti-queer propaganda spread by the ruling party in state-owned media. i survived the “rainbow night,” poland’s own stonewall moment in summer 2020, when police arrested around 50 queer activists following the arrest of margo, a nonbinary activist. i survived the "lgbt-free zones," the targeted violence, the slurs from strangers on the street, and the protests i held against queerphobia. it was hard as fuck, but i survived.

but just because i survived, it doesn’t mean others did. many women died because of the abortion ban—marta, justyna, izabela, dorota, joanna, maria, and many others who didn’t survive pis’s draconian anti-abortion laws. milo, kacper, michał, zuzia (she was 12), wiktor, and other queer and trans kids and young adults took their own lives because of the relentless queerphobia.

despite all of this, our experience in poland can serve as a guide now. here are some tips for staying safe and how we, polish queers and women, organized under the regime:

safety first, always. if you know someone who’s had an abortion, no you don’t. if you know someone is trans, no you don’t. if you know people who help with safe abortions, no you don’t—at least not until you know it’s 100% safe to share. if you are queer or have had an abortion, only share this with people you trust fully. most importantly, not everyone has to be an activist just because they’re part of a minority. if it feels unsafe to share that you're queer, trans, etc., then don’t. it doesn’t make you any less queer.

use secure, encrypted messaging like signal for conversations on potentially risky topics, such as queerness, abortion, organizing counter-actions, protests—anything that might be used against you.

stay anonymous online. if you want to research or report something without surveillance, do not use regular internet. get a vpn (mullvad is affordable and reliable), download the tor browser (for both onion and standard links), and if you plan to whistleblow, consider using a riseup email account.

organize and build networks. community is everything now. support each other, foster independence, because your government won’t have your back. set up collectives, grassroots movements. create lists of trusted professionals—lawyers, doctors, etc.—who can offer support.

to lawyers and doctors: please consider pro-bono work. this is what got us through poland’s hardest times. your work will be needed now more than ever.

for protests or risky actions: always write a pro-bono lawyer’s number on your arm with a permanent marker.

get to know the anarchist black cross federation and other resources on safety culture: "Starting an anarchist black cross group: A guide"; Still We Rise - A resource pack for transgender and non-gender conforming people in prison; Safe OUTside the system by the Audre Lorde Project;

for safe abortion info or involvement: get familiar with womenhelpwomen.

stay radical, stay strong, stay informed: The Anarchist Library

if i forgot to (or didn't) include something, don't hesitate to reblog this post with other resources.

[orcboxer]

Sure there's zombies killing and eating people on the street but those people are not dying from the virus they're dying from comorbidities. For instance, that guy we saw getting eaten on the way into work today clearly died from blood loss, not infection, plus he already had a heart condition. People with preexisting conditions are just going to have to take care of themselves. Say it with me, "They're all already dead to me." See, that feels a lot better now doesn't it?

Good because you still have to go to work. No we're not paying you extra. Yes we're doubling grocery prices. No you don't qualify for disability. Or healthcare. Or a home.

Look, if you get bitten, you can stay home for one day, I guess 😒, but then you need to come in early. We're really short staffed at the moment, despite our company's profits being higher than ever. In fact we may be laying some of you off next month. You don't mind working off the clock right?

Also you look silly with that protective gear. We're gonna harass you for it, not like institutionally but just socially. Who cares if a zombie attacks you? Who cares if we invite them into the building? You don't need to defend yourself, you're just overreacting. If you get bitten just tell everyone the festering bite mark is from a different animal, that's what we all do.

And hey, don't worry so much. It's endemic, which means we don't have to keep track of how many people are dying from it anymore. Just look at those numbers! It's only killed 2,000 people in America this week! That's basically nobody! We're back to normal!

If everything starts tasting like rotting meat for the rest of your life, it's probably something else. If you experience brain fog or you forget things constantly or you're tired all the time after even minor physical activity, it's just because you're lazy. Yes every other virus you ever get will also be increasingly worse but that's just a coincidence. Those viruses just happen to be exponentially worse now.

Plus, those few weeks during the lockdown were terrible for my mental health. I just can't keep living like that, so we have to go back to normal life, which now involves people biting each other and twitching uncontrollably and rotting visibly.

You can't expect the world to wait for you. "Already dead to me," remember?

[leyavo]

Ghost getting badly injured during a mission that they have to call his next of kin.

Next of kin?? What do you mean next of kin.

Mrs Riley?! He doesn’t wear a wedding band to protect you. Not even at home, worried there’ll be a mark to show he sometimes wears one.

It’s then that the TF 141 find out he’s married to you. They’re all wondering what you’re like, convinced you must be in the same line of work.

You’ve been married for six years, only to be called if it’s serious like now.

Soap’s jaw is on the floor as you walk into the infirmary, you don’t even glance their way as you rush to Simon’s bedside. Your hand on his chest as you lean down to kiss his forehead and brush back his hair.

You’re well put together, a lightweight robe layered over jeans and a simple vest. Pops of colour on your olive thick framed glasses and golden wedged heels. Hair pinned back with a pencil, leather bag overpacked with a book, filofax, purse and little cosmetic bag.

Price introduces himself, shaking your hand. A dainty diamond ring sparkling on your finger. Your silver bangles jingle as you greet each man, repeating their names and they know Ghost has not told you anything about them.

All he told you is that he likes working alone, but sometimes works with others.

You stay at the base for a while till he’s well enough to travel home. Eating with him and the guys in the canteen, they’re still staring at Simon like he’s grown another head. Watching you two squabble about little things.

“Do not put that shit on my plate,” Simon grumbled.

“It’s broccoli not a bomb.” You can’t help but roll your eyes, shoulder bumping into his arm as you try to move him along in the line.

The art director job you have takes you all around the world, sometimes you get to meet up with your husband. Simon treating it like a mission in itself, you playing along as you talk to him over the phone as you walk the cobbled streets to see him. “Target engaged, moving in,” you whisper as you spot him standing outside a coffee shop.

FaceTiming him whilst he’s at base so you can show him the little trinket you found in an antique store. He’s laying down in his bed, headphones on so no one hears.

“Nearly the same age as you luv.” Anything to see that little poutie face and brows furrowed. He loves teasing you that you are older than him, but it backfires whenever he complains at his body aching. “You’re supposed to be young and spry.”

Being a couple years older than Simon, you’ve got your shit together. Which drew Simon to you. Both no nonsense, say what you feel and work it out. No games, no silent treatment.

“Watch your tone Si, you’re not in the army here. You’re home so don’t give me that shit.”

“Watch my tone, luv. You just flooded the bathroom!”

“You distracted me!”

“Why don’t I get some towels and we both sort it out.”

Once Simon’s fully recovered, you invite his team to stay at your shared home together for the weekend.

A cottage in the countryside, there’s an eclectic mix of vintage furniture and textiles. That one rug Simon shipped back from Morocco in the living room. Paintings, pottery and sculptures scattered around the rooms. Rocky, a German Shepard trailing after you as you give them a tour of the place.

You make friends with Price’s wife who’s around the same age as you. Even try to set Gaz up with a client you think he’d get on with. Bond with Soap telling him you lived in Scotland as a late teen where you had your first art assistant job there.

Price’s wife scheduling a double date in five months time. Simon side eying John. She’s also invited you to come stay for a girls weekend at the Price house.

[wife/gf masterlist]

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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