#at least while he’s in the same country he can see them more. I’m sure Carlos completely understands.

[interlagosed]

RUPERT IS LEAVING CARLOS?????? WHAT

Ah that’s very sad :( i think we’re going to miss him but no one more than Carlos!! But he’ll be Team 55 forever ❤️❤️❤️

[annesblogsstuff]

rafe is bad for you

bsf’s brother!rafe x f!reader

warnings: mentions of sex, a little bit fluffy, reader is a kook, rafe being touchy, lemme know if i miss something !! also, english isn’t my native or first language so i’m sorry if there’s spelling mistakes (i’ll get better

summary: at a country club party, your best friend sarah warns you about her brother and his track record with girls

divider by @h-aewo

when sarah found out about you and rafe, you thought she would never accept it. you two have been best friend since middle school, you didn’t want to lose her. but also, you couldn’t hide your feelings for rafe anymore. he was charming to you, protective and sweet. basically, the opposite of who he was outdoors with everyone. everyone in the island knew: rafe cameron would do anything for his little kook princess.

one night, sarah came back in the early morning from her reunion with her new pogue friends. she thought she would be alone in the house, but then she heard strange noises coming from rafe’s room. she opened the door and screamed. she saw her brother’s hips pushing against her best friend. your legs around his waist while he filled your neck up with marks. obviously, rafe screamed at her too, annoyed by her interruption. she screamed at him, and she screamed at you.

with the time, sarah learned to accept your ‘relationship’ or ‘friends with benefits’ situation. at least, you thought so, until now.

now, you’re having a great time at the country club. fresh drinks, summer air, and golf with your best friend sarah, and, now, three months after sarah’s discovery, boyfriend rafe.

‘yk, i’m getting a piña colada. u want something?’ you ask sarah. she raises her sun glasses and smiles. ‘m’fine, thanks, btw’ she says.

suddenly, you feel a pair of familiar hands squeezing your breasts from behind. you tilt your head to one side to see him. there he is. rafe cameron, the one you were crazy for and the one you drove crazy, smirking at you. at the beginning of the relationship, it really turned you on see his hands on your breasts. now, it turned into a habit. rafe is obsessed with them.

‘hey, gorgeous’ he says with a smile.

‘gross’ sarah frowns at her brother’s hands.

‘stfu, sarah. no one cares’ he responds, squeezing your breasts more in front of sarah. you kiss rafe’s cheek to calm down the situation, he looks at you. ‘want me to bring you that piña colada, baby?’ you nod. he kisses your lips softly before separating from you. ‘alright, i’ll be back in five’

rafe leaves, leaving you alone with sarah again. you pucker your lips at her, a little bit embarrassed by the situation.

‘can i ask u something?’ sarah says, with a straight face. she never makes her straight face at you, you two are always joking, having fun, supporting each other. has been so since middle school. you know when she makes that face and says that, she’s about to ask something you’re not gonna like.

‘sure’

‘why are u dating my brother?’ oh no, no that again. you think, you pinch your noise bride.

‘sarah, we already talked about this’ you say, letting out a sigh.

‘i know, ‘kay? i know. but i really care about you. i don’t want to get hurt. and that’s what he does, he fucks some random kook, he tells her she’s the only one, and then, he leaves her because he found another girl whose hotter. i don’t want you to get through that.’ sarah explains. you already know about rafe’s history, his reputation. what he did to sofia, that poor pogue. otherwise, he was someone else indoors with you. he was truly himself with you. the real rafe. he takes care of you, he makes sure you’re safe, he loves you.

‘okay, sarah, enough. i know all that. i know what he did to sofia, it wasn’t right. but i love him. there’s this part of me that can’t help it. i can’t help loving him. and he feels the same.’ you stay strong, trying not to cry in front of everyone. it really hurts; your partner in crime would never accept the way you feel.

sarah raises her hands in surrender. she steps back. ‘rafe is bad for you. don’t say i didn’t warn ya.’

and she leaves. she lefts you there, with that strange feeling fluttering through your stomach. maybe guilt. or maybe deception.

my first write here!! (i’m so excited btw) hope u enjoy it and remind its my first. my writing will be better in the future, i promise 🫶🏻

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello, I'd like to request for fuegoleon, William, nozel, zora and Nacht where they hurt their s/O's feelings and make her cry? And just how guilty they feel, how they make it up, comfort their s/o and apologize. You can choose whatever they couldve said or done to make her cry I love anything you write they're all so good

If 5 characters is too much then just fuego, nozel and nacht would be fine please and thankyou❤️

Hello! Some hurt comfort is on the menu it seems, and I'm happy to oblige ^^ This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Zora x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader

Fanfic type: Headcanons

Genre: Hurt-comfort

Length: about 0.75k each, 3.9k total

Warnings: Generally hurt-comfort, the guys snap at reader, all for reasons of their own, in Nozel's scenario the reader doesn't really know what kind of a person Nozel's dad is, Zora addresses reader as "babydoll", Zora calls himself as a "jerk ass", reader cries and the guys try to comfort in their own ways

Fuegoleon

He had had very taxing couple of months. The adverse the country was facing seemed to have no end in sight, and it felt that in terms of politics and finances the country was being pushed further and further into a corner, which took an immense toll on him emotionally.

And though a part of him wished that he could simply take a vacation and not worry about any of it, he knew it to be senseless. Quite simply because the same issues would wait him as he returned, and they would have further piled up, so taking a vacation would be counterproductive. But still he felt that his nerves were hanging by a thin thread, even if he considered himself as a patient man.

As he sat by his desk, you came through the door with a paper in hand.

“I made us a reservation to a restaurant,” you told him. “I thought we could take a nice evening off, have a date and just enjoy life,” you smiled, while presenting the reservation information to him.

“No thank you,” he said without looking up from the documents in front of him.

“But you need to have some time off as well,” you insisted while placing your hand onto his arm and tugging him slightly. “So I planned us a day where we can just do something w-“

“I can’t take a day off!” He snapped. “Surely a moment of peace and quiet would be pleasant, but there is too much to take care of for me to quite simply ‘take a day off’,” he continued.

And you… lifted your hand off of his arm, and took a step back.

You had intended to do something nice for him, because you had seen how strained he was and now he… wasn’t… feeling the sentiment. A part of you wanted to blame yourself because you had failed to read him and what he’d wish correctly, because wasn’t a spouse supposed to be able to do that?

There were a lot of emotions swirling around in you, but none of them were pleasant. And with it, tears begun climbing to your eyes with a burning sensation, only to roll down your cheeks.

Fuegoleon looked at you, and there was a gnawing, pricking ocean of guilt in his chest, because he knew that you had meant well. You had wanted to do something nice for him and make the situation at least a little bit more bearable.

“My love I’m…” he reached forward for you. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but … I…” his gaze fell to the side as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words, spoken carelessly.

You didn’t shy away from him as he tried to get close to you again, because it wasn’t… that you didn’t understand him, and you could see the sincere apology and regret in his eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll try to take the day off…” he promised with something that sounded almost like a sigh, but really it was because he knew what it’d mean.

And you knew what it’d mean too. It’d mean sleepless nights, having less time during the next week or two for you two to spend together regularly, in place of that one day. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d rather see him a little each day than not at all.

“No,” you shook your head with a faint tone while mirroring his movements and reaching for him. “We can… just have a moment, a short moment, in the evening to ourselves,” you said through your drying tears.

His eyes gathered that gentle undertone that was too beautiful for this world, as he placed his hand onto your cheek and brushed away your tears. “If that is what you wish,” he said with gratitude in his voice before he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

You nodded as a reply, even if only faintly.

“I am sorry, my beloved,” he still repeated. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t wish to impose any-“

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I get it. There’s a lot on your plate and I should have talked about your schedule with you before making reservations…”

“But your heart was in the right place,” he told you while placing his hand under your chin. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you,” he admitted while lifting your chin, and placing another kiss onto your lips, warm, gentle and caressing, which washed away any shadow of doubt of his sentiments that might have been there.

William

The days had grown long, because of everything that was going on in the kingdom. And with the disappearance of Julius, it had gotten him thinking about what had happened after the whole ordeal with the elves. Which had made… something about the whole state of the kingdom hit too close to home with him.

Perhaps he was questioning being pardoned altogether, since it seemed that the one to pardon him, had taken a run for it. Or perhaps something more dire.

But if the only person to be willing to pardon him was someone like him, willing to look the other way when the kingdom was falling to its knees then…

It filled him with various emotions, all swirling and twisting and turning until he felt all of them trying to bubble to the surface, but he didn’t know which to let out first. How to let them out. Instead it felt like they were all stuck in his throat, just building, building, building up pressure so much that he might-

“Hey honey!” You greeted while entering through the door of his office, only to see him hunching over his own desk. “Oh did you eat something bad, or-“ you placed your hand onto his shoulder.

But he pushed it away. “Don’t touch me!” He ordered without as much as looking at you. And from his tone, you heard nothing but pain, hurt, and… you could have sworn… disgust… underlying it all… You could have sworn there to be contempt… in there…

You took a step back, pulling your hand to you and holding it with the other. As you couldn’t… imagine why… why would he have… Your sweet William…

His chest was heaving, and as his eyes lifted from the desk to you, the most prominent feelings you could se were fear and pain. The way they flickered, his purple eyes that were so gentle, flickered around as tears lined the corners of his eyes.

“Forgive me…” he whispered as his eyes turned to the side. “I didn’t… I just… Why did he pardon me? Some… solidarity from a villain to another?” His head swayed from side to side, as if trying to comprehend, but failed to do so.

“You’re… not a villain, Will…” you tried, because his reaction had… made sense. It wasn’t you he was trying to shoo away, it was his own emotions, but you sounded anything but convinced. Tears climbed to your own eyes.

You buried your face into your hands, and wept, from the shock of what had happened, his words, but also because you had understood where it came from. Because he was pained from the guilt of his past actions, and you felt his pain too.

He turned to look at you again, as he heard your sobs, and got up from the chair to make his way to you from the other side of the desk.

“I’m sorry… so, so sorry my little song bird…” he wrapped his arms around you, and pressed his head against yours, as his tears rolled down his cheeks, and onto you. “I’ll… make it up to you…” he pleaded. “Just don’t… please don’t… hate me, I… didn’t… wasn’t… I didn’t mean to….” His voice was faint, broken and defeated, and he swayed in place with you in his arms.

It sounded like he was repenting. Praying for forgiveness.

“I don’t hate you… Will,” you told him while wrapping your own arms around him. He was a broken man, and he had acted out of distress. Without intent to hurt you. Without intent to push you away.

He pressed a kiss onto your head as his embrace grew tighter. “I’m sorry,” he still whispered.

You nudged his head with yours, and whispered against his skin “we’ll make it through.”

Because you would. The two of you would. He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a villain. It was simply that the guilt he felt got overbearing sometimes, which had caused him to call out in fear of what he thought about himself.

But he loved you, and you loved him. So, you could heal, together. You were certain about it, as you stood there, holding onto each other.

Nozel

Nozel had learned to deal with his family situation from a young age. Though ‘dealing with it’ had turned into something that seemed more like survival. Not that you could see it from the surface. Because, while looking from afar, without seeing into his eyes, his emotions, he was a calm sea. Vast and serene. Though something, someone to be revered and respected, because there was also harshness in the oceans.

But if you had the opportunity to peek under the surface, you’d see a twisting, turning vortex of guilt, pain, sorrow… fear… A lot of emotions one might deem ugly.

‘Unsightly’ he would describe them in himself. Because he couldn’t be any of those things. The Captain of the Silver Eagles, the First Born Son of the Royal House of Silva, couldn’t be any of those things. And thus… to him, in him, they were unsightly.

He didn’t talk about his childhood either. He didn’t talk about his parents, aside of his mother. Which, given the circumstances of her parting, made sense. He would talk about her more because of the fate she had faced.

You had been thinking about starting a family with him. You had talked about it in passing. And as you sat in the living room, him staring out of the window, deep in thought. You talked about how lovely it’d be. “I’m sure you’d be a great father,” you thought out loud, meaning just it, and nothing else. “Just like yours.”

His head begun to turn to you with a slow motion, as if mechanic, and his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t even a glare, but a mad stare.

“I will never be like that bastard!” He shouted, making you press against your seat out of the sheer force in which the words were pushed, spat out of his mouth.

His body started to shake, and the stare turned into a look of horror as his eyes fell down to the floor. Because…. Because… though his father had been horrid, spewed poisonous words in a whole different way than shouting… maybe you had been right and… he was on his way becoming just like his father. Which was among the last things he’d want.

But you… you didn’t quite understand where it had come from. Sure, he hadn’t talked about his father, but you hadn’t thought that there’d be this level of hatred and contempt for him from Nozel. Though you had gathered that Older Lord Silva wasn’t a well liked man, but… surely he… would have been… kinder to his… own children, right?

Right…?

There were a lot of emotions turning within you. Partly from the force of Nozel’s words, and partly from guilt of having failed to see through his silence. Through the things he didn’t want to talk about, and… as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and buried your face into your hands, you cried. You cried and you cried and you… didn’t know what to do. What to say?

You felt a weight right next to you on the couch, as a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Nozel I…” you tried while pushing against his chest with a faint motion.

“Don’t…” he started as his hold of you grew more firm. “Look at me…” he continued as his voice broke, and something… as if a droplet, landed onto your shoulder.

The words sounded like a plea. Plea filled with shame and the broken pieces of his soul that he wasn’t eager to show you.

But you did as he wished, and settled into his embrace.

“I’m… sorry, my dear,” he whispered with that same broken tone while placing his hand to the back of your head. “I’ll… be better, than him. I will…” you couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell that to you or to himself.

But whatever his father must’ve been like in reality, you could already tell that Nozel was far better of a man than his father had ever been. He was. Because the man who held you in the soft, gentle, secure embrace felt so very deeply about you and the ones close to him.

He really was like an ocean of secrets.

“I love you,” he professed through another whisper, but while the tone was silent, the proclamation was loud as ever. “I love you…” he repeated, just to make sure that you heard him.

And as you buried your face into his shoulder, and the scent of his haircare products flowed to you, it was as if your tears had disappeared into thin air.

Nozel might not have been the best with words, but he was there, when you needed him the most.

Zora

Zora had had to raise himself for a good portion of his childhood. Though Zara had given him good tools to life, and a lot of wonderful memories, it didn’t mean that Zora wouldn’t have had to toughen up.

His accomplishments, his skills and tenacity were all a result of him having a keen eye for details, while also having had to, quite bluntly, tell himself to do better. Pay attention to his own shortcomings and fix the issue.

But… it had also resulted in him being blunt with others. Though it was all for the sake of betterment, for growth and development of skills, the way he delivered the words were harsh more often than not. Which was something he was trying to fix, when it came to some people, at least.

You knew that he was like that. And you knew that he wasn’t the type of a guy to just sit around and expect you to do all the housework, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t like cooking from time to time. Actually, maybe it was the idea that you didn’t need to cook, because he’d be more than alright with cooking if you asked him to, but rather that you could.

But today the dish wasn’t… cutting it. You had tried to taste it many times and there was something in the seasoning that wasn’t just… doing it for you. But you couldn’t really place your finger on what was wrong with it. Or not… wrong wrong per se, but it certainly could be better.

You leaned against the stove, and sighed to yourself, as the gears in your head tried to turn. But came up empty.

A drawer was opened, and closed. There was a sound of metal clicking against metal and steps coming closer, accompanied by a hum from a certain, masked, someone.

Zora dipped his spoon into the food and took a bite to test the taste. And after he had, he sighed, sounding disappointed before making his way to the spice cabinet and laying thme out onto the table.

“The balance is all wrong,” he said. “It’s mainly salty while you want there to be some sweetness to it for the contrast as well. A bit of acid would do wonders, but the real issue is that the spices aren’t complimenting each other,” he explained while taking the spoon and adding one spice after another along with other ingredients.

And you… took a step back and let him do it. Because if it was ‘all wrong’, why should you have interjected?

In all honesty, it made you feel unappreciated. Like you couldn’t even cook right. If I can’t even cook right, then why is he with me….? You found yourself thinking.

Before you knew it, your eyes had turned to the floor and you were grinding your molars together as tears started climbing to your eyes. And eventually, they ran down your cheeks as you were still immersed into your own thoughts, in how you didn’t think that you could do a simple task correct. Because surely Zora wanted someone by his side who could contribute as much as he did. Surely. So why was he-

“Hey babydoll?”

You looked up, and saw him standing there, having placed his hand onto your shoulder.

His eyes were deep, calm blue. Clear and yet deep blue. And there was worry in them. That was when you realized that you were crying and looked away while wrapping your arms around yourself.

He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the tone,” he said. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and… I’m happy to eat whatever you make,” he tried but the consolation fell short, given how he had started cooking in your place.

You curled around yourself a bit more, without really meaning to, but you did. In any case.

“Come here,” he said while pulling you into an embrace.

Seconds ticked away for a while as he just held you, and the dinner was slowly cooking on the stove.

“If you want me to stay out of it, you need to just tell me, y’know? I know that I can be too harsh, and… And… I try to not be.”

He was trying to help you get better. But he could be a wee bit of a jerk about it at times.

“We both know I can be a real ass jerk,” he said with a hint of amusement, trying to make you laugh.

And it worked. “But you’re my jerk,” you replied with a hint of a giggle in your tone.

“That I am,” he replied. “And I hope you never need to get sick of me,” he continued while pulling away just enough to wipe your tears away.

You gave him a small smile as a reply to his careful one, and went back to cooking, together.

Nacht

Nacht had been a loner for most of his life. Someone who travelled down his own path without caring what everyone else thought. And it had made him someone who spoke directly about anything and everything he deemed to be topical to say.

Though he could also be harsh. Granted that he was the harshest to himself, but still. His directness could be harsh, and you both knew it.

He tried not to be, to you. He tried to treat you with the kindness that you deserved. He tried to treat you with the respect that you ought to be treated with. But sometimes, he failed.

Though watching him scold the Bulls for their shenanigans yet again, you didn’t think that he was trying all that hard to be constructive. Maybe he just wanted them to be efficient during missions, because that would drive the squad forward the best. ‘Not to be wasteful of energy’, or something like that.

“You could try going easier on them,” you told him later on when it was just the two of you. “Be kinder.”

“Kindness is a weakness,” he scoffed. “And Yami has let them slack off enough already which will get them killed. Only a fool would go easy on them.”

You stopped, thinking about what he had just said. Because you were going easy with the rest of the Bulls. You were kind to them. And Nacht. So… so.

You couldn’t help but think that Nacht had, there and then, revealed what he really thought of you. Though it wasn’t directed at you, he had been, still, indirectly talking about you too. Basically he had called you weak and stupid.

Basically.

Which made your eyes turn to the ground as you bit down your molars and tried to will away the tears that were climbing to your eyes. Because you shouldn’t have taken such an off-hand comment that wasn’t even said to you, to the heart in such a way but… But. It had struck a nerve in you.

“Hm? What is it?” He asked, having stopped and turned around to look at you, as if he hadn’t realized what he had said.

“So you think that I’m dumb and weak?” You asked with bitterness lacing your tone as the tears finally glazed over your eyes, but didn’t roll down quite yet.

“That isn’t what I said,” he argued, now facing you fully and taking a few steps closer to you.

“But I am letting them off easier and I am being kind to them. So. If being kind and letting them have a breather is-“

“You’re not responsible for them.”

“Neither are you!” Now tears ran, but you didn’t look at him.

You didn’t look, and he said nothing.

Surely, he could have argued that as a vice captain he was more or less responsible, but not to the same extent as Yami. And at the end of the day, all the Bulls were responsible for themselves. So, he didn’t need to care about what they did with their time. Really.

“You are not weak and stupid,” he said while taking you by the hand. “Quite the contrary,” he admitted. “And I shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.”

He sounded like he was speaking out a ready made dialogue of a noble man that he used to be. But you supposed that he hadn’t needed to comfort anyone lately either. If ever. If he had ever needed to comfort anyone. Even himself, since he had denied such a thing from himself.

But he could see how the ready made dialogue wasn’t doing it. The words might have been there, but the sentiment wasn’t.

“Darling?” He whispered, while moving again a little bit closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he said while summoning his shadows and tugging you, as if to ask to come along with him. To which you nodded, and he transported you both to your bedroom.

As you stood there, in the sanctity of the room with the door closed, he finally wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You are not weak. Or stupid,” he repeated. This time the tone was one that sounded genuine, caring, insisting. “I’m sorry for insinuating it.”

You nodded and returned the embrace.

“It’s simply that… not being prepared can get people killed…” there was a reason, in there, why he would remind you of such a thing.

“But people need to live too.” And there was no arguing over it. Because life was meant to be lived.

Not even he could deny it. “They do…” he admitted while holding you closer in his arms.

And it was in that embrace that you could feel his heartbeat, his remorse and regret. But most importantly, you could feel how he did love you. Because he did. With his entire heart and soul.

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Switch a Loop: It’s not your Fault…💫⏳

Context: “Memory of Sailing” post!

* Everyone is at the Clock Tower.

*Siffrin seemingly went straight into bed after dinner, Bonnie followed shortly after him.

*However, the other’s stayed behind.

*They were right, Siffrin and the King are from that same island.

*They are one step closer to solving what is going on… But at what cost?

*Him choking on their own blood, being cradled by Odlie, reaching at the ceiling.

*For stars he couldn’t even see.

*Mirabelle is the first to speak…

Mirabelle: I… I shouldn’t have pushed him so much-

Isabeau: Mira, don’t even start.

*Isabeau holds both of her hands in his.

Isabeau: You couldn’t have known… None of us could…

*Odile taps the table, keeping her distance.

Odile: Yes, Mira… There is nothing you could have done.

Mirabelle: No! I should’ve have known! I should’ve known that Siffrin would have pushed themselves that hard! That even if it was killing them, he would do it!

*Tears welling up in her eyes.

Mirabelle: I… I… Just wanted to be able to helped them, like they… helped me…

*Mirabelle quietly begins to cry, Isabeau slowly pulling her into a hug.

*Odile frowns and looks away. She sighs.

Odile: I… I understand how you feel Mira… I really do.

* The two of them look at her, she continues.

Odile: You know… When Isabeau suggested having Siffrin help us with any “Unfinished Business” and how the two of us went on a “secret quest”. Do you know what we were looking for.

*The two of them looked confused, but later spooked their heads.

Odile: We were looking for a Familytale.

Isabeau: Oh yeah, you tried looking for one at the secret library… But, why are you saying this now?

*Odile nodded.

Odile: Well, It was when I figured out that he may have something to do with that disappeared island.

Mirabelle: O-Oh? How?

*Odile took a deep breath… In. And. Out.

Odile: W-well… We were talking about our upbringings… Well, I was at least- And he brought it up to comfort me.

Isabeau: Ha… Yeah, that’s Sif a’lright…

Mirabelle: Comfort you about what? I-If you don’t mind, Madame…

*Odile smiles at her.

Odile: Well, I’m actually Half-Vaugardian… Part of the reason why I’m here is to try to connect with that part of myself.

Odile: Asking you about your culture, your practices, even your food! Mirabelle, the way you were so passionate about your beliefs in the Change god… Isabeau, all of your wonderful insights of the town’s we’ve visited… Bonnie made food that I was interested in trying.

Odile: And Siffrin, knowing nothing about both Vaugarde or their own country, still comforted me.

*The two of them looked at her, quietly listening. She continued.

Odile: Ha! It’s funny… How even an old lady like me can still feel lost, hm? At least I still have Ka Bue I could returned to… A place, while not perfect, I could call home. They had nothing…

Odile: I guess part of the reason why I wanted to help him find more about the island was to repay him for his help… Or maybe the guilt, who knows.

Mirabelle: Madame… I- I never knew! You seemed so wise and sure of yourself. If anything, I thought you would have scolded me…

*Odile rest her hand on her shoulder, still smiling.

Odile: Like Isabeau says, you couldn’t have known. And… You are far more capable than you think you are and I am more than sure that you proved your worth…

*Odile awkwardly looks away.

Odile: Um… I not really good at communicating these kind of things…

*Mirabelle laughs, returning her smile.

Mirabelle: Your fine… Thank you, Odile.

Isabeau: Aww~! Group hug?

Odile: Don’t push it.

*They all laughed together.

*…

*But…

*…

[3amfanfiction]

MDNI tw: baby trapping and manipulation. GazxReader fluffy-dark one-shot.

Kyle is ready for a baby, so when he sees his chance he just can’t resist. And he knows how he’s going to make you an enthusiastic, albeit unknowing, participant.

He was ready.

It’d been a long time coming; you and he had had your ups and downs and always came out stronger on the other side, together. Always together. It was you and him until the end.

You were such a perfect partner for him, practically handmade to fill in all his rough edges and he never let you forget how much he adored you. He bragged about you any time you came up in conversation and wasn’t shy about crowing your achievements from the rooftop.

Your friends were over the moon at your relationship. Every time you met up for brunch or movie nights you would field at least 3 comments about where they could find their own head-over-heels partner.

You had been sick for a few weeks before you finally went to the doctor.

“Tuberculosis.” you rasp to Kyle on the other end of the phone. “They prescribed me some heavy duty antibiotics called rifampin that are the size of horse pills!” you hold the prescription bottle up towards the light and shake the tablets around in disbelief.

Kyle just laughs into your ear, well aware of how much you disliked needing to take large pills. It had been brought up every time one of you got sick throughout your relationship. You insisted that they got stuck in your throat and stayed there for hours before finally dissolving, no matter what Kyle tried to say. He used it as an excuse to brew your favorite tea and pamper you more than usual whenever you had to take them, so he never tried to argue too hard.

“I miss you . . . wish you were here,” you croak, making your way to the couch to relax and try to catch your breath. Your lungs felt physically tired as you tried to breathe. It was a unsettling feeling. Panting lightly, you pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and cocooned yourself, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I know sweetheart. I wish I was there too. I would make you that soup you like and rub your feet while we watched a movie. You wouldn’t have to get up for anything.” The line crackles and breaks for a few moments before clearing up again. “Just a little bit longer, love, and I’ll be able to come home. It’ll be before you know it.”

“I miss you Kyle.”

“I miss you, sweetheart.”

. . .

When the call ends Gaz immediately looks up the medication you said you were prescribed. Rifampin. He’s never had tuberculosis and he wants to verify that this is the standard treatment and if there are any side effects to watch out for. While he isn’t in the country right now he’d figure something out if you needed him back quickly.

Fingers which had been swiping steadily, reading warnings and side effects with the same attention to detail as to mission reports providing intel before an operation, slowed and then stopped as he continued to read. After a moment his screen goes dark and your future shifts and locks into place on the other side of the world.

. . .

It was edging into evening just over a week later when the front door swings open and in steps Kyle. You immediately throw yourself into his arms and begin fussing, hugging him and checking for any new injuries at the same time. He just laughs and squeezes you back tightly. “I’m fine love, just happy to be able to hold you again.”

After sorting out the immediate concerns you tumble into bed, cuddling face to face and sharing a pillow, sharing breath. You’re not sure who kissed who first but you’re both tied for ardor. Your tongues tangled together as hands slide under clothes and down pants. Before things got too involved you pulled back to look at him. “You’re going to have to pull out. This medicine can affect my birth control so you can’t come inside me okay?”

He nodded eagerly as he began to pull your shirt up your torso, fingertips dragging along skin in their own version of a kiss. “Pull out, got it.” He said distractedly, glancing down at the skin and softness he was uncovering. Before you knew it you were both naked and he moved his way down your body, taking his time to slowly work you up. Spending time nibbling along your coller bones, sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat, tonguing around your neck to the other side to continue.

What follows is hours of pleasure and torture in equal measure. Kyle has never been a stingy lover but tonight it’s like he has something to prove. He brings you to your peak again and again and again . . . and then he holds you there.

While the two of you had dabbled in edging before this, it had never been to this extreme. Tonight had been hours of cruel pleasure, the sheets under you were damp with sweat and you were sobbing with your hands buried in his hair.

“Pl-please,” you hiccup on a sob “I need to come. Please let me-let me come.” you beg him, trying to maintain eye contact through your tears. He currently had three fingers buried deep in your cunt and his lips suctioned to your clit.

His lips pop off with a slurp and you yelp.“Do you need it, baby?” He grins with a feverish gleam in his eyes. “You ready to come?” You nod eagerly, blinking and causing the tears to spill over your lash line.

“Please, please I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please let me come.”

“God you beg so pretty baby. Okay, but I want to come together.” He climbs to the head of the bed and lays on his back. He grabs you by the hips and helps you climb on top, slotting himself back at you entrance. “Come on, up on top love, thats it.” he babbles as you sink to the base and gasp at the feeling of being stuffed full. “Yes, Just like that, just like that.” is wrung from his throat as you squeeze him tightly.

You begin to pump your hips, pulling away from him before bringing yourself back down but you quickly lose steam. It had been hours at this point and you were on your last legs.

“I know.” Kyle coos condescendingly, brushing the back of his knuckles over your cheek, wiping away tears, sweat and drool. “I know sweet thing, you’re so tired. It’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ll help you.”

He reaches both hands down to your hips, digging his fingers into soft skin and plush rolls. His fingertips causing divots where they press into the fat of your hips. He pulls you into a grinding motion, “Doesn’t that feel good baby? Me holding your hips just right, helping you grind back and forth?”

You nod dumbly, brain fried and only able to think of how good he feels inside you. He drops one of his thumbs down to find your clit, giving it steady, smooth circles to help you finish.

“Yeah? Right there? I can tell it’s good just by your face. I love that fucking face that you’re making.” His mouth begins to run, words dropping out with no prior planning. “If I could tattoo it behind my eyes and carry it around with me for the rest of my life I would die a happy man. You make me so damn happy baby.” He grunts as he begins to move your hips faster, grinding you down firmly against him. “I want you forever, do you hear me? Forever. It’s you and me okay? Yeah, you’re getting close? I am too, love. Mmmm fuck. Just like that, keep rocking your hips baby and you’re gonna make me come. God you’re taking me so well. Tucked up, deep inside you.” His jaw clenches and he pulls you as tightly against him as he can.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come love. You’re gonna make me come.” His words stutter to a close as you continue to grind, chasing the final edge. You could feel it tingling up your legs, across the backs of your thighs.

“Im so close,” you pant, head tilted back, eyes closed, unable to think of anything accept the feel of his cock bumping into your soft walls, creating sparks of pleasure. “Don’t stop baby. I’m so close. I can’t stop. Please”

A groan punches out of Kyle and his grip turn tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises to find in the morning. “If you don’t want me filling you up, you gotta get off baby. I know you’re close but you’re gonna make me come. You told me to pull out just to, just to be safe. I can’t-i cant hold it baby. You’ve gotta get - get off or it’ll all be inside.”

He starts to stutter and lose rhythm still pulling you into him, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

You don’t hear him. A roar is building in your ears, a white noise type of hum that is blocking out everything else. You can feel your release digging its claws into you down to your bones as it gets ready to wrench you from your body.

Your knees begin to shake from their place beside Kyle’s hips as you finally get what you’ve been working towards for the past however many hours. Your vision whites out and your mind blanks.

You clench around Kyle’s cock. warm gummy walls pulsing around him, drawing him inside. You’re grinding down on him as hard as possible, his tip pressed against the back of your channel.

His eyes hold an unusual gleam right before he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, groaning his release as he pumps everything inside of you.

Later when you’re spooned together, his arms wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together, you don’t notice him cupping his hand around your lower stomach. He falls asleep with a smile on his face as he imagines his future together, with all three of you.

Next || Story Repository

[quibbs126]

could you do a blackberry x adventurer fankid if you havent already pretty please :3

I can’t really say that I made this because of the aforementioned “I haven’t drawn anything in a while” post, it’s just because I was scrolling through my requests and remembered that I was in the middle of drawing her before and thought “might as well finish”

Anyways sorry, this is Blackberry Scone Cookie

So if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t entirely know what her deal is. I know that, unlike her father, she is very willing to acknowledge that she’s rich and uphold that side of her family. She’s also at least outwardly, very similar to her mother in being generally reserved in her emotions. I think one idea I had for her is that she does cool things, she just does with a disinterested face, which kind of just heightens the coolness

Okay so I’m gonna be completely honest, I am now going to just make something up as I write. That top part was in part for me to figure something out

Outwardly, she seems disinterested, but she has plenty of emotions, you just either need to pay attention to her actual words instead of tone, or you just need to get close enough to her for the mask to fall. She also has quite an interest in stories of magic and in mystical artifacts, though she prefers simply reading about them over going out to find them. Also, despite her interest in the subject, she just doesn’t have that much of an ability for magic/the occult, and has difficulty seeing ghosts (best she has is that she can sometimes see Onion), which is one of the reasons she sticks to simply reading about them rather than going out herself

While she has respect for her father in how he goes out on his own to seek out treasure and artifacts, she just doesn’t understand why he hates his rich life. Her only real guess is that he sees it as clashing with his adventurer persona, which she thinks is kind of stupid. She’s also pretty much the one running the estate while he’s gone (she’s an adult by this point) and being the one to actually deal with things such as house guests. Not to say Adventurer was an absent parent, and he’d actually take her along when she was younger on some of his expeditions, but he can disappear sometimes now

She doesn’t hate her parents, and it’s not like they were horrible parents to her, but she feels distant from her mother due to her lack of ghost abilities, and some amount of resentment for her father for being so attached to this persona of his and his disdain for his actual heritage, especially since she’s fully accepting of it and it unintentionally makes her self conscious about it

She’s not super sure of her place in the world, but for now she’s just trying to do her job as a member of a rich family

Hm, so I ended up writing more on her than I thought I would. Ah well, not a bad thing. Well, design time

So her name’s Blackberry Scone due to me headcanoning Adventurer to be some sort of shortbread or biscuit (I know they’re the same thing in other countries, but I’m unsure as to what kind of biscuit he is now). Scones are kind of like biscuits, add some blackberry and there you go, blackberry scones

A potential name was Blackberry Cobbler, but I think I prefer scone, especially since I made her more rich-seeming

Blackberry scone:

So almost everything I made of her, outside of the small sketches and some of the colors, I made a couple weeks ago while waiting at the dentist’s office, and I mostly blocked her out of my mind after that as a result. So I don’t really remember a lot of the design process

I feel like I gave her that hairstyle to make her look “cool”, but then I kind of threw that aspect of her character away. But I still like it, so she keeps it

Also, her suit was originally a bit more reddish, but I changed it today to make it more purple so it’d fit with the color of the scones. They don’t really look that red, so I changed it. But I think now the colors may not all look the best together

I feel like I may have made her colors all a bit too similar to each other, and/or not given her enough, but I don’t really know what else to change

Also when I came back today, the thickness of the lines was bothering me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been dabbling with the Syrup brush now, but I think I need to play with line width more now, since some of the smaller things like the brooch feel like they have too thick of lines

I don’t think her design is necessarily bad though, it’s mostly color wise I have issues with

And yeah, that’s Blackberry Scone, I hope you enjoy her

[fancyfeathers]

HONESTLY william gives severe girldad energy. i always imagine him having two daughters. one physically resembling him but having her mother's nature and interests and the other being a copy of her mother's features but having his smarts. i can see the latter potentially being aware and somewhat wary of her parent's history. like, her father never felt like the knight rescuing princesses in the books she read, even after knowing how he 'saved' her. he felt more...like the evil keeping the maiden away.

The two would be a copy pretty much of William and their Uncle Louis with their personality dynamics. I’m just imagining the one who mentally resembles their father being very protective of their sister and mother as they got older, constantly clinging to their mother’s skirt and holding their sister’s hand, not because they are scare but because they don’t like her father getting close at all. Like if she sees him walking over to embrace his wife after returning home, she will immediately curl up to her mother’s side as to keep her mother occupied and then separated. William might catch on but given her young age he may just think she prefers her mother to him as his other daughter is far more clingy to him when he returns home, just like her mother was with her own father before his passing.

Then things slowly become clear to William, especially with her taste in books. When he was a child he had memorized all the works of Shakespeare and she was well on the way to do the same with just a different medium. When he was looking for her one day his wife informed him that she had dragged her Uncle Louis to take her to the library after she helped him clean, they had been there for at least five hours. When they returned, Louis was carrying at least six books in the hand that wasn’t holding onto his niece’s, and her free hand held two books, all of them being multi chapter books along with a few poetry collections. William reads to his other daughter when he tucks her in, but when he goes into her room she is already asleep, but clearly faking as he can tell her breathing is off and can see the outline of a book next to her under the covers. He comes in and sits down on the bed next to her, telling her that he knows she is awake, so almost guiltily she sits up, book in arms and he sees the title, The Merchant of Venice, a book her father knows far too well. He takes it in his hand, looking it over, flipping to the page she has bookmarked.

“I think you are a little young for this-“

“But didn’t you make a contract with a nobleman for a pound of flesh when you were only a few years older than me?”

“How did you-“

“I found the file on the court case in your office.”

It was then William realized his child was going to be as smart as him one day. So from then on he keeps a close eye on her, making sure she wouldn’t do anything he would have done. When he sees her tampering with the gas powered lighting in the drawing room and perhaps accompanying him and Uncle Louis to their country home when he goes to teach at University of Durham during the school term would do her good.

Don’t worry about mama, Uncle Albert will take care of her and her sister while they are gone.

[cloveroctobers]

BODE LEONE — Spring Writings 🩵

A/N: Happy Fire Country Friday! It’s just me feeding the ghost town of a tag that was inspired by that last episode with a side of drama or triggers—i try my best to make spring writings more fluff based which you will get somewhere here. I want to say this takes place a year or two after this current season idk whatever makes sense lol. I know timelines are kinda confusing for this show so feel how you feel!

WARNINGS: strained parent and child relationship, established relationships, infidelity of other characters, mentions of abuse to minors, alluding to s*ic**e, PTSD, blood, lots of descriptions that I should be employed as a screenwriter for the show with the amount of detail I give but we can just pretend, also I’m assuming that Bode and Riley were at least two to three years apart whereas him and Jake are the same age? I think that’s about it enough!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: 9. Our first dinner party & “god you’re bleeding! how the hell did you do that?” “i was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀

“God you’re bleeding! How the hell did you do that?” Bode’s voice booms off the “almost oyster,” kitchen walls, making you zone back in to the fact that your middle knuckle and tip of your thumb happened to be oozing red all over the makeshift counter and cutting board.

He’s scrambling around the kitchen, snatching a rag from underneath the sink to wrap around your two fingers awkwardly. Applying pressure, which you hiss at, you meet Bode’s concerned blue-green eyes to see that he’s waiting for an answer.

You sigh, “I was trying to cut the tomatoes!”

Bode keeps his hands securely over yours and barely glances at the work you started on along with your phone that keeps silently lighting up. He blinks his attention back to you, sensing that you were disconnecting and was not entirely sure why. It was your idea to have your first dinner party after he moved in with you at the high rise out in Hillford, which was thirty minutes west of Edgewater.

“I see that,” he starts, “you don’t even like tomatoes, so I’m not sure why that’s on the menu for tonight?”

Closing your eyes for a moment you lift your shoulders nonchantly, “your mom loves a good Mediterranean salad, so I thought why not give it a go?”

Bode snorts, “my mom wouldn’t know the difference if it was store bought.”

His mom was a decent cook but she hardly had the patience to keep up with it. Majority of the time Bode’s dad was the one to throw down thanks to his own mother and grandmother forcing him to learn. Sharon loved to eat and sample so she wouldn’t be too judgmental…unless she ended up with food poisoning then you’d never hear the end of it!

“Vince would depending on what it is.” You peer at him underneath your eyelashes while Bode breathed out a laugh, figuring that you were most likely right. Mr. Leone may seem like a go with the flow kind of guy but one thing about the Leone’s? They loved to eat and if the food wasn’t cutting it then some words would be said.

Bode hoped the idea of his parents being here tonight didn’t make you nervous. It wasn’t your first time having a meal with them and one thing Bode knew about his parents is that they rarely held back. They liked you and they wanted to see him rebuild his life after being released. They were just happy that Bode was finally able to do that but after that text you just received…you weren’t so sure if that would remain true.

Bode gently lifts the rag from your fingers, “the bleeding from your thumb seems to be slowing down but that knuckle might need some stitches.” He announces before raising your hand back above your heart.

Feeling a wave of frustration fly over your being once more, made you want to lay face first on the kitchen floor—if it was sanitary. Hey you kept a clean house, otherwise you wouldn’t be having any family over! You were a bit of germaphobe and tried to ignore the itch of your brain to get to cleaning the mess you left on the wooden table turned island, that you got from a antique store two years ago.

“Hey,” Bode grips you even tighter, prepared to handle the deadweight if you decided to just drop to the floor, “what’s wrong?”

This was more than just you losing blood.

Opening your eyes you move your body around to slump against Bode, who didn’t hesitate to rest his cheek against the back of your head, “Sharon invited my mom and Manny, which is okay, I guess! Then my mom invited Gabriela! Which automatically makes what’s his face, the fiancé, her plus one while also extending it to Eve who invited Jake.”

The mumbling from you was a bit difficult for Bode to grasp but he listened intently anyways to get the gist of it all. There were many things wrong with this and he was tempted to call his mother up right now—despite knowing she had no ill intentions. Sharon seemed to get a kick out of your mom (which only meant trouble) who was casually dating Manny and you already knew your mother was solely the one to drag Gabriela into this. You’ve known the Perez’ since what felt like forever, way back in San Diego where you and Gabriela both attended school and actually became friends due to being in the same friend groups. You both tried out for the swim team, Gabriela made it and you excelled better at gymnastics.

She had the dream of being in the Olympics while you were being shot up with steroids from your coach to be the next star of the team. There was Lilavati Sharma who was the face of the team and carried herself with such grace despite the pressure to always be the best. She was sweet with all the girls and guys on the team and was genuinely likeable. The coach favored her just a little too much to the point she was here and then in the next she wasn’t.

Her father pulled her away from the team and gave the coach a nice shiner to the face that took weeks to heal. That only made the coach train you harder until you broke your collar bone, becoming the biggest disappointment until the truth of your coach came to light after the unexpected death of Lilavati.

That’s when you learned, maybe second best wasn’t so bad after all but that didn’t mean your trauma needed to be diminished as well. You hurt for Lilavati more than you did for yourself and it took years for you to understand why that was.

The universe seemed to have it written in stone that you and Gabriela were meant to be in each other’s lives. Yes you were older now compared to high school but it was safe to say that the both of you have fallen out long before. There always seemd to be some sort of connect with your mother and Manny. They were both once married and Manny’s been raising Gabriela all on his own for as long as you could remember. You recalled the conversations Gabriela would have about the gap she had in her life because of her mother’s absence and how lucky you were to have your parents.

Well…your mother’s been cheating on your father since you were a kid and basically bullied you not to tell your father about it once you were a bit older. Although he’s always known, he hated that she put you in that position after realizing that you’ve known. By the time leaving for college came around, your dad was moving from San Diego to Northern California far out to Edgewater; after serving your mother divorce papers who gave him such a hard time on signing them. She even followed him all the way out there after putting the house up for sale a month before your graduation.

Going back and forth to court was a common thing between them along with a restraining order being filed and lengthy phone calls from your mouthy mother filled your head while studying for finals. So yes your upbringing was as peachy as everyone thought.

Bringing it back to present time, your father was remarried and seemed to be thriving with his new aeronautical engineer of a husband, that you had to cat-sit every time they left the country to explore the world. Your father’s always been open about his sexuality and made you comfortable (considering he was a psychologist) if you ever questioned anything of your own personal experiences. You were one of the rare cases where you always had crushes and flirted once it felt like those crushes also showed interest but…it never amounted out into much.

You never had a significant other until you reached college. Let’s just say, you didn’t marry your college sweetheart. That wasn’t your story. The idea of love that you had wasn’t the brightest although it’s something you always wanted to have, it was just hard to truly receive it. And here you were with a man that always fought through so much in life that also wanted to give love and be loved in return.

“So the gang is all coming basically?” Bode used one hand to gently rub your back, “we could just cancel. It was supposed to just be with my parents…although I don’t mind Manny and your mom tagging along but…inviting everyone else to our place without talking to us about it…is crossing boundaries. How’d you find out?”

It still felt odd for Bode to call this waterfront townhouse his as well but you constantly reassured him that he was open to doing anything that made him feel like the home was his too. For one contributing to the HOA fees was a good start (after fighting a lengthy battle with the court to get EMT training and finally getting a spot on CalFire as stable income was a long time coming). Pre-Prison Bode had jobs before—some that he’s walked out on—but being with CalFire gave him purpose with a smidge of financial freedom. He was able to spend money on things that mattered like annoying adult stuff, a creepy ornamental two piece banana sculpture that he installed on the wall of the breakfast room (a small separate area from the dining room), and you.

“Mom texted.” You huffed, “and I’m trying to get better at not blowing up on her but when she does things like this? It makes it so hard.”

It took a lot for you to stand up to your mother since you tended to hold everything in. Over the years it’s been a build up and she’s apologized various of times but it started to fall on empty ears when she continued to repeat her same patterns.

Bode hated that your mother caused you such anxiety. He’s cupping your face now, gently placing his forehead against yours, “what do you want to do? I’ll call mom and yours up right now if it’s too much? We can have dinner ourselves, just us two and see if there’s any new streams on that movie you’ve been telling me about.”

You send him a small smile, cherishing that, “the kebabs are already done along with half of the other food. We can’t eat all of this ourselves.”

Bode peeks over at the covered food on the rest of the counters then back to you with a smirk of a smile, “want to bet?”

“Bode!”

“What? I can eat and I’ve been dying to try a kebab since you slapped my hand with a Spatula an hour ago.” He playfully glares at you, “I needed a snack.”

“There’s always crackers.”

Bode furrows his brows, “…I thought you loved me but I think you’re trying to starve me. What is this? Three rock?”

You laughed, “well at least one of us has an appetite and I just want to get through this night and enjoy the company of what I thought would just be with Sharon and Vince.”

Bode nods his head, “we still have time if you change your mind so, I’ll give you until after I’ve cleaned you up.”

“I love that you already know that I want you to do my stitches.”

Bode slides an arm across your hips to guide you out of the kitchen, “of course I know my baby. You nearly collapse every time you see prices in the grocery store when we’re out so I can only imagine what the bill from urgent care would look like. Lucky for you, you have a certified first responder as a boyfriend.”

He’s careful with you as he guides you up the narrow creaky stairs to the second floor to the main bathroom and you’re reminded this is the love you deserve.

You’re seated on the toilet while Bode is making a mess—like he commonly does—searching for what he needs. His hands are large and quick as they work the needle through the thread before setting it aside. He turns back to you, moving your hands from the pressure you’re applying against the rag, before motioning for you to keep it on the knuckle while he cleans, applies antibiotics and bandages your thumb first.

Bode kisses your thumb over the bandage, “how are we doing? Feeling faint? Do you need water? I probably should have asked before we came up here.”

“I’m fine.” You smile softly at him as he grabs a stool to sit down on as it’ll take him longer to work on your knuckle, “thanks for checking.”

He hums in response, “want to talk about work as a distraction?”

Blood didnt really bother you but you did cringe at the thought of needles. You can go ahead and write down PTSD note takers! You were an application security specialist, yes a true nerd, and also damn good at your stressful but fulfilling job but it was the weekend so that was a negative.

You redirect the conversation, “I’d like to draw you your next tattoo.”

Did you have artistic abilities like Bode? Let’s just say you were more of a data person while also being pretty athletic—although gymnastics was somewhat history you still found yourself stretching and working out to be crucial to your health routine—you had your own taste.

“Yeah?” Bode asks as he gets to work, “are you telling me you don’t like the two I already have?”

You shake your head, “sure I do. They have their own significant stories, which I’d never change and I have ideas if that artist brain of yours craves for more ink.”

“Appreciate that…so what’s on your mind?”

You deeply inhale as you feel the needle piercing your skin but talk through it, “you’re surprisingly into some odd art and I’ve been looking at vintage Halloween art that my co-worker is obsessed with and thought, why not create a wizard frog with a pointy star hat, wand and everything?”

“A wizard frog?” There’s a teasing tone in Bode’s voice while he pictures it as he pulls tight before going back to your skin while you hold your breath, “Magic’s not really my thing especially since I told you about my dad having me watch that one weird movie with Anthony Hopkins. Riley on the other hand? Could sit up for hours watching that horror crap with my dad…although she always ended up in my room, stealing my covers while talking away as I tried to sleep. As her big brother I dealt with it if that meant keeping her nightmares away, although I regretted it in the morning.”

The both of you share a laugh at this.

What you knew of Riley was that her and Bode were sorta opposites. She had the kindest big round blue eyes, was friendly and open to having conversations with strangers whereas Bode was more reserved before he felt comfortable enough to approach. Apparently she was soft spoken yet determined, into the well-being of animals that she planned to be a vegetarian once she was older, liked magic tricks and horror movies but only if that meant she got more time to bond with Vince that is. She seemed to have a heart on her sleeve and probably would have been a veterinarian if she lived past sixteen.

“Just big brother duties.” You inhale air between your teeth, “and I think she would like my wizard frog idea.”

“Yeah…I can see you two plotting against me.” Bode smiles over at you before giving one last tug before snooping off the excess thread, “all set.”

Before he can even move to start cleaning up, you throw your arms across his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Bode pauses but buried his nose against your fuzzy cardigan before rubbing your back against your embrace once more.

“What’s this for?”

You say, “just because I love you and I’m happy to have you here with me, which I know I probably don’t say enough since words of affirmation is more your thing than mine but I stand by this. I look forward to many more days with you, good and challenging.”

Bode feels his body go warm at your words and pulls back to meet your eyes. “I can’t wait and I love you too, softie.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles at you while you scratch at his facial hair.

“…You’ll think about the wizard frog?”

Bode sighs with a small smile on his lips, “If it makes you happy, love.”

“Cop out answer!” You flick his broad shoulder with your good hand.

“How?” Bode lifts his shoulders in confusion.

You crinkle your nose in annoyance, “You can’t ever say what I want to hear and make me think I’m always the winner, fight back.”

“Okay…I’ll remember that when I don’t want to watch the traitors uk with you.” Bode holds your stare while you gasp with a hand to your chest and then nod your head, mentally saying that was fair game.

Bode can already tell what you’re thinking, which makes him grin at you before leaning forward to cautiously peck your lips. You humph before slowly pushing yourself to get to your feet and steady yourself.

Bode’s hands are immediately on your hips as you balance yourself and you give him a nod in reassurance before leaning forward. You connect your lips again, his beard tickling your face as you breathe him in. He smells sweet like amber, fresh but calming like cypress, and warm sandalwood and you feel like you could just sink into him endlessly but manage to pull away.

“You sure you don’t want to cancel? We could do more of that and I wouldn’t mind.” Bode squeezes your hips with a lick of his own lips.

You pull from his grip, “that’s what Sunday is for, a day with no plans! Now let’s go, chop chop! We have a dinner to finish.”

And you’re out of the bathroom before Bode can even blink. He’s shaking his head at you and calls out, “fine. Don’t touch any more knives though!”

Once putting everything back where it belongs, he stares at his reflection in the mirror. He’s not entirely thrilled to have Jake here, since they were attempting to get back to where they once were but Bode wasn’t holding his breath since he felt like Jake was trying to live what could have been his when it came to Genevieve. It took time for him to accept what happened when they were teenagers meaning with Riley but since he’s been locked up? It felt like it was one thing after the next even in his freedom. Then there was Gabriela…which you had your own issue with although you tried to downplay it and there was a smidge of a history that Bode had with her that probably didn’t help…

He just hopes this dinner isn’t a true disaster for both of your sakes but at least he could have the task of throwing someone out…if it came to that of course.

That wasn’t what brought a smile to his face, it was the thought of hosting something that he could call his own with the person he wanted to spend countless days with.

You.

⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀𑁍❀☼𖦹⚘ ⚘𖦹☼❀

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HOW I WOULD’VE WRITTEN YUKIMIYA AND KUNIGAMI

i made a silly post last night about something i would’ve done differently in the neo egoist league and it inspired me to finally make a proper post explaining how i, personally, would’ve written yukimiya and kunigami specifically, given that the both of them are currently suffering from benched-character-syndrome (that’s not a real thing, i just made it up, but i’m sure you all can figure out what it means)

disclaimer before i start: this is MY OPINION and just one way that things could be done differently — i’m not saying that this way is better or worse (on the whole i actually have been enjoying kaneshiro’s decisions so this is definitely not hate), it’s just a different perspective!! i will be cutting many characters in the course of this explanation, including some fan-favorites ones, but don’t take that personally, because for the most part, it doesn’t mean i hate them 😩 in fact i typically like most of them, this is just from a writing perspective ☝🏻

disclaimer two: i am not a professional writer or mangaka or anything — i’m literally typing this while eating a rice bowl at my kitchen counter!! so don’t expect peak fiction and DO expect plenty of typos…i also don’t know how the manga is going to go and this could be rendered completely obsolete (writing this as of chapter 276) in like an arc or so 😓 please don’t come in my notes and call me stupid or say i have zero reading comprehension or whatever other insult you feel inspired to come up with (i know some of y’all like to tussle 😰), put that energy into making your own post or ignoring me or whatever brings you peace and joy 🥰

OKAY now that that’s over with we can finally get started!! LMAO sorry for the lengthy disclaimers i’m scared of some people in fandom tbh because some of the notes i’ve seen on my mutuals’ posts/some of the fandoms i’ve been in in the past…anyways…

@sharkissm here’s the post i promised you!!

YUKIMIYA KENYU

poor yuki…he went from number 5 in blue lock to a literal random in bastard münchen?? okay maybe not quite RANDOM but he’s approaching that status 😓 it feels as though the character he was set up to become in the third selection and u20 arcs is not the same as the character he became in the NEL arc both in terms of worldview and play-style!! so to begin with, i’d make some heavy adjustments to his backstory in order to explain away some of those discrepancies in a more consistent manner

as we know, yuki had a pretty good childhood, all things considered — much more in line with the isagis of the world than, say, bachira, and not to mention kaiser. well, the first thing i’m going to do is take that away from him completely!! instead of having an idyllic childhood where he’s incredibly perfect, i want him to be from a “bad” area of japan. of course, both in real life and in blue lock, japan does not have any crazily horrible terrible areas, but all countries have their sketchier parts, and i want yukimiya to be born in one of those. he lives his childhood as an absolute MENACE and is the kid that adults hate to see coming. his parents work a lot, so as much as they love him and try to raise him as best as they can, they’re not there to correct him 100% of the time, so he kinda just runs roughshod and does whatever the hell he wants. in his light novel, it’s mentioned that he learns to play soccer with this old man and his dog, and i’m actually not going to take that aspect away from him completely because it’s cute, but i will change the context a bit; instead of it being a chance encounter, the old man actually seeks yukimiya out and asks to teach him soccer. maybe his son went down a similar path that yukimiya has begun down and while he can no longer save his son, he at least wants to help yuki out and channel his energy into something more productive, hence soccer!!

after learning soccer from the old man and his dog, yukimiya begins to play it on the streets with some of the other local kids (who are just glad he’s not being a bully anymore and are happy to play along) which is the beginning of the development of his street-style dribbling (in reference to that majestic ass panel of him in the u20 game that was like hardly ever referenced again) as well as his dominance as the one-on-one king. he’s basically undefeatable, and this leads to something of a superiority complex in that he is firmly convinced that he is the protagonist, he is the one that the universe favors, and he absolutely cannot and will not lose and nothing bad can ever happen to him. he continues to be an asshole in general and is still the kind of guy that your parents would tell you to stay the hell away from, however!!

things change when his eyesight starts deteriorating. he goes to the doctor, and that’s when it’s revealed that he has this eye disease (is it even named in canon?? idk i’m just going to call it eye disease) and he might eventually go blind. that night when he leaves the doctor, it’s pretty much in despair, because soccer is the only thing that makes him happy given how miserable his surroundings are (again, there’s obviously many countries and places that have it way worse, but for young yukimiya who is comparing it to the rest of japan, it’s not that great) and he feels like he’ll now be stuck in the same cycle that his parents are caught in. on the way home, he sees one of those religious billboards that’s all like “god will always forgive you” and since he’s at one of the lowest points of his life thus far, he decides that he’s going to become religious because this blindness/disease must be a punishment from god for the things he’s done.

soon after, he’s walking home from school or something random (this is meant to be an extreme coincidence given the situation) and is scouted to be a model. this reaffirms his conviction that his conduct thus far is wrong and that if he ever wants to escape and live the good life that he dreams of, he has to abide by god’s rules and follow his ways. he gets into modeling and makes enough money that he and his family can move to a better part of the country, where he begins to play soccer for his new high school and is quickly recognized for his skill/talent. through this process, he learns how to be incredibly polite, kind, and altruistic, because he’s already been “punished” once and doesn’t want to face it again…he also wants to prove that he is better now and deserves this new life of his as much as if he had born to it + he doesn’t ever want to go back to where he used to be!!

what this backstory change accomplishes: it explains the street soccer panel in a more satisfying way, and it also gives a reason for why yuki is so kind in the 3rd selection/u-20 match and then suddenly becomes incredibly selfish in the NEL — instead of it just being explained away as ego, it shows how blue lock manages to draw out the worst aspects of one’s personality via competition, because yukimiya, who has worked so hard to be good and kind, reverts to his childhood personality almost instantly under isagi’s pressure!! it also explains why yuki’s so quick to just go back to being chill, as he probably feels guilty that he let himself slip like that and doubles down on being a “good person”

now as for the actual games this is where i think i will make the most people mad BUT i would’ve gotten rid of kurona and had yukimiya replace him!! to be honest as much as i do like kurona, he was very very randomly dropped in (i literally thought i had missed the manga panel introducing him because his actual first speaking appearance was so out of the blue) and there were already established characters that could’ve taken that role (ex. yukimiya). i would’ve sent kurona (and honestly probably kiyora) over to barcha because they likely would’ve gotten along well with bachira and otoya plus their passing skills could’ve made barcha a stronger team!! this also serves to isolate isagi more and gives him literally no one but hiori on his side — in this scenario, i want yukimiya to be SO altruistic (as per the backstory change) that he will pass to anyone, just as long as that’s what’s best for the team (the “greater good”). if yukimiya stays the 1v1 emperor, this also adds another dynamic to the kaisagi rivalry as well as possibly adding a ness vs hiori dynamic because that would mean that more often than not, yukimiya would have the ball, and he’s the one who they will rely on to break through the defense before passing to one of the other midfielders (ness, hiori) or going straight to one of the strikers (kaiser, isagi) (yes i know there’s only one striker on a team but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). this version of yukimiya could also have a very interesting dynamic with kaiser as both of them come from somewhat similar backgrounds (obviously kaiser is worse but there are similarities) however kaiser forsakes everyone in order to view himself as a god, or god’s chosen one, whereas yukimiya once believed himself to be that but has now forsaken that aspect of his ego in order to place his beliefs in others and in a higher being. this means kaiser could also be a method of awakening yukimiya (giving him interactions with more of the team than just isagi) where his selfishness makes yukimiya realize that if he wants to survive and continue dominating on the field as the 1v1 emperor, he also has to be a little more selfish (a leader instead of just a follower), allowing him to settle into a blend of his new personality and his childhood one, where he’s still kind and agreeable but also a little bossy and much more assertive/willing to score his own goals even if it’s not necessarily for the greater good 100% of the time

what this new role accomplishes: it allows yukimiya to have much MUCH more play time as he deserves given the hype built up for him during the third selection (he was ranked higher than NAGI, which yes it was in the second selection but second selection nagi was a beast so that says something about yuki for sure [as well as karasu and otoya but we’re not talking about them atm]), it gives us a smaller cast to work with on bm (because at the moment there are just too many blue lockers getting random backstories and doing one thing in a game before ghosting and honestly if all of their individual contributions were consolidated into one character, in this case yukimiya, it would make that one character much stronger as well as taking away the plotsagi accusations as now isagi isn’t the only one consistently doing things in games) and allows us to get much more attached/involved with the stakes of the games, and it gives kaiser dynamics with the rest of bastard münchen instead of just isagi, which fleshes him out a bit more as well

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

i’m sure this is what most of you are reading for (although i hope you went through the yukimiya part and enjoyed it as well!!) and trust i have come to deliver because i have many thoughts about kunigami…my biggest gripe is that his return from the wildcard was so built up and then the narrative treated it as so utterly unimportant (why do literally none of the characters gaf??? like there were a couple of panels touching on it but nowhere near the significance it shoudl’ve been given) that the readers themselves have zero stakes in it!! like if isagi, who considered kunigami a fairly good friend as far as blue lock goes, barely questions why his friend is so different now, then why should we as readers care either?? now, if/when the wildcard reveals are done, they will MOST LIKELY not have the same impact that they could’ve if kunigami as a character was treated differently in the narrative (again, maybe this will change and there will be something that makes the punch of it still hit just as hard, but as of the moment i’m writing this post, i don’t feel that that will happen)

there’s two routes that i could see kunigami taking, and both of them involve kicking out some fan favorite characters (again) but in the first case it’s only temporary!! i’ll go through the first one and then the second one and cover my ears as the bm fans yell at me for axing kaiser and ness

that’s right, route one involves getting rid of kaiser and (most likely) ness entirely!! i am actually of the firm belief that the ng11s (specifically kaiser and lorenzo) were introduced too early. people legitimately think lorenzo is a bad player just because ubers lost vs bm even though kaiser himself had difficulties when lorenzo was covering him…in my opinion the ng11s should’ve been kept as a mysterious entity whose only representative we see is sae itoshi (for narrative reasons) until the u-20 world cup, where ng11s randomly show up in some of the matches to raise the stakes and allow individual blue lockers to confront their demons/weakness and develop further (for example, in a game against, say, the italian u-20 team, maybe shidou learns how to break through a defensive set up with lorenzo at the center?? and that particular match is the ‘shidou match’ random example because idek if shidou’s built like that but you get the gist). i honestly don’t even mind kaiser being there as much because at least he’s doing stuff and still feels like he’s on another level but lorenzo shouldn’t have been shown until later — anything he does, aiku could’ve accomplished and that also would’ve built the rivalry between him and barou that was hinted at in barou’s ln…but anyways my thoughts on aiku can be a separate post because i have digressed!! back to kunigami

in this version, i want him to be isagi’s main rival instead of kaiser, who’s not here at all. make his new ego so obsessed with scoring goals that he cannot fathom anyone else doing it. whatever wildcard did fucked him up so badly that he is absolutely TERRIFIED of returning, so even if it makes the team lose, even if it makes him an asshole, he will do anything to score and prove himself as “useful” to the team so that, even in the worst-case scenario, he’s the one being chosen instead of anyone else (the way reo was chosen over him). this also creates a much deeper rivalry than just “who gets to be the star of the team” as it’s rooted in kunigami’s insecurity and fear of wtvr the fuck was going on in wildcard. this also builds wildcard up as something much more terrifying than it has been so far in canon, because when you think about it it MUST have been horrible and that’s gone somewhat unacknowledged except for brief hints and glimpses, and it also adds a legal/moral/ethical dilemma — because obviously wildcard WORKS, kunigami is the proof of it (as isagi’s main rival, he’s scoring all of the goals that kaiser did, so he’s obviously eating it up), but is it sustainable?? is it something that they can do en masse?? because there’s no question that it’s destroyed kunigami completely, so is it even worth it?? or is it one of those things that you think is worth it when you start (the way kunigami must’ve) but afterwards you regret entirely??

however, given the importance that kaiser has to the NEL (he’s kind of the face of it to be honest), as well as how many fans he has, i can totally understand leaving him in, so i have another option, which i also really like. in this route, i want to use kunigami to replace ness — which doesn’t make sense at first i know but hear me out!! ness hasn’t contributed enough to the plot (besides his dynamic w kaiser ig) for me to feel bad about kicking him out honestly and that’s one less character on the main cast that we have to care about, allowing for more depth to the characters that DO exist. in this scenario, kaiser’s in a loki-esque situation, where all he needs to get that coveted re al offer is someone with the crazy strength to push through players like lorenzo (we’ve seen kaiser struggling with defense before, and as barou says in second selection, kunigami has the build to hold the ball up at the top of the field)…enter kunigami, who’s very obviously a prime candidate for this, and kaiser POUNCES!! he thinks he’s going to have to convince kuni to take his side instead of isagi’s, but surprisingly, kunigami very readily agrees to it. this is because in this route, kunigami resents the blue lockers, including isagi, because while he was effectively being tortured, they were being lauded with praise and shown on live tv as celebrities and whatnot. they never suffered in the way he did, and although he does believe that wildcard was necessary for him to evolve (not a healthy mindset but the one drilled into him), he still wishes the rest had endured what he did, because it scarred him so much that he almost cannot handle knowing that he went through it alone while the others were enjoying themselves (comparatively)?? so he teams up with kaiser and is actively working against his old friends (for maximum effect add in reminders/callbacks to the team z days to give extra angst to the “betrayal”)…it would also be very fun to juxtapose kunigami’s and kaiser’s backstories here, as kunigami had a good life that was ruined by soccer, whereas kaiser had a shitty life that was saved by soccer, and this could definitely come through in their particular brands of desperation while playing!!

now, there’s plenty of theories floating around that ness will assist isagi in scoring the final point against pxg (now that IGAGURI is in for some reason idk if that’s still a likely outcome but i can def see it happening) however my counter-point is don’t have kunigami assist isagi with the two-gun volley…give that to yukimiya (given he’s a character like i outlined previously) or even hiori, and instead have kunigami pay isagi back for the half of the steak (therefore acknowledging their past and old friendship for the first time since his return) by passing him the ball instead of kaiser, the way everyone expected/was covering for. this allows isagi to still score the final goal against pxg while giving it more of an emotional meaning than just “oh isagi has to win because he’s the main character”

alternatively, if pxg is meant to win, then i would leave the two-gun volley as it is, but i would just make it so that the setup is still kunigami choosing isagi over kaiser and acknowledging their old friendship, and i would make a bigger deal out of the pass since the build up is different!! i also wouldn’t have noa tell kunigami to manmark shidou the entire time…instead i would make kunigami obsessed with shidou in the BEGINNING of the game, but i would have kaiser/isagi/noel noa yell at him for this obsession and remind him that the objective is winning, not revenge, so he’s still active in the game instead of just being stuck on babysitting shidou duty (this role could be given to yukimiya actually, again given that he’s written as i stated previously, as he’s the 1v1 emperor so he has enough of the physicality to accomplish that and keep the ball away from shidou if it gets near him, and he’s already done enough in the previous games that it’s alright for him to take a bit more of a backseat especially after two-gun volley)

as a footnote, EITHER route you like, there’s one thing that was absolutely a missed opportunity which i’d like to focus on, and that’s kunigami’s dynamic with noel noa. it’s not a secret that kunigami’s supposed to be a copy of noel noa, but what does noa think of this?? i need their dynamic to be weird and fucked up…like he’s noa’s protege, as he’s meant to be a copy of the man, but noa is simultaneously absolutely disgusted by ego, becuase what do you mean his old rival who faded into obscurity has suddenly returned with this child whose body and life and future he completely ruined, whose mental state is absolutely destroyed, just so that he could finally “beat” noa?? just so that he could make a copy of the man that he could never actually be himself?? and this disgust with ego transfers to noa also almost shunning kuni and avoiding him when possibly/treating him way more strictly than he does the others…which only makes kunigami try to work ten times as hard to prove himself…but this only freaks noa out more and it’s just a vicious cycle LSKDFJHSLK

ANYWAYS so this was a crazy long post but it’s really not meant to be taken all too seriously!! like i said these are just musings about how two characters that i personally like could’ve been used differently 🤩 if you read all of this then you’re a goat fr and feel free to talk to me about blue lock/anything else at any time!!

what was that youtube ass outro

[hannahssimblr]

“Oh God,” Shane puts his head in his hands, “That’s so bad. Shockingly, shockingly bad.” 

A wobbly rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart floats through the open doors of the local pub, invading the night with flat, tuneless melody. From our picnic bench on the docks, every karaoke performance has been crystal clear. We hear every note, every fumbled lyric and pre-emptive, spirited launch into the chorus even though there’s an entire verse to go. Jen swore that we’d have more fun as a group if we went in and watched it, complete with the overdramatic physical performances, but Shane objected. He says he has a hard time coping with embarrassing things. He can’t watch other people fail miserably, and while I’m the opposite and thrive on it, I still prefer our seats at this comfortable distance, right by the barrier to the sea where the fishing boats bob serenely on black water. Being away from the karaoke minimises the chances that Liam will force me to include myself. I can’t sing. I am completely tone deaf, so it’s better that I steer clear of that microphone and all others.

I didn’t want to come out tonight anyway, I’ve been pretty tied up with all my wallowing, but Jen refused to take no for an answer, the same way that she has refused to let me order spirits from the bar. It’s beer for me only until she can trust me to act reasonably again. Not that I’ve made any attempts to contact Michelle since last week's ordeal, not even through email, where sometimes, when I log on to contact various students in Berlin about housing, I see her name there and the last email I ever sent her. It was just study materials, and I should delete them and move on, but I can’t. I’m stuck. it feels too final.

But the night is clear and the conversations are flowing, and if I don’t think about anything outside of my immediate experience then one could argue that things are going well, that there's no need for me to feel unsettled. What’s not to love about a night by the water with friends? It’s what the summer is for. I should be trying harder to enjoy myself. 

There’s distant chatter as two girls step out of the bar. I recognise them. It’s Kelly and her friend from the tennis court. The blonde one. Shane perks up in recognition and waves. She waves back. 

“Who’s that?” I ask him. 

“Claire. My sister’s friend.”

“Right, from school or something?”

“Yeah, from Tullamore.”

They’re coming over now, at least Claire is while Kelly drags her feet behind and does her best to look disinterested, but if Claire notices her friend's reluctance she doesn’t show it. She’s smiling, a wide, even smile as she hops onto the dock and greets us all with a confident, “Hello everyone!”

Shane runs a hand over the top of his head, “Hi, were you- were ye in doing the karaoke and stuff like that?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t sing because I’m awful at it, but Kelly did.”

Kelly, hanging back in the shadows, grunts and keeps her arms crossed.

“Oh, was that you caterwauling Bonnie Tyler just there?” He teases, “Sounding absolutely diabolical?”

“No,” she snips, “I sang something else, Claire, can we just go sit over there or something?”

“Yeah in a minute. You didn’t feel like singing, Shane, no?”

“No,” he laughs self consciously, “I don’t think you’d have liked to have heard that. I’m no singer at all. I’d be brutal.”

“Ah c’mon, I’m sure that’s not true! Sure you're good at everything.” She’s got a very sing-songy, country kind of accent, high and feminine, but what’s most interesting about her voice is the things it seems to do to Shane. Every time she speaks to him his cheeks turn pinker. 

“Ah, well, no,” he lets out a goofy laugh and goes back to touching his hair, “I don’t think anybody would have liked to hear me,” He peers around her for a moment and looks back towards the pub, “Where’s Evie?”

“Oh, she’s with Liam.”

A pause, “Oh right. As in, they’re singing?”

“They were,” Kelly pipes up, “But they went off.”

“Off where?”

“To shift.”

“Evie is shifting Liam?”

“Yeah. Who else would do it?”

This tickles Joe, “Aw lads! Liam is off with some girl? That’s so funny. What do you think is wrong with her? Blind? Would you say? Or blind and deaf?”

Kasper laughs once the joke is explained to him, and I make a deliberate point of not joining in, because Jen’s warning eyes are on me like a hawk. I will be nice to Liam this summer. I will. 

We hang out with Claire for a while, chatting and pretending we’re not aware of Shane’s blatant crush on her while Kelly sulks on another bench alone, pointedly checking the time on her flip phone and sighing about how they’d better get back to the caravan park soon. 

Claire doesn’t notice, and I find it satisfying. 

Eventually we break off into our own conversations and let Shane and Claire talk on their own, and I wonder if he’s going to do anything about it this summer, if he’ll ever find the courage. Shane’s always been shy with girls, it’s just how he is. Always reluctant, always hanging in the background waiting until he’s absolutely sure about any mutual feelings to say anything to them. Maybe focussing on him like some sort of project would help to keep my mind off my own stuff. Is that a normal thing to think?

Claire raises a hand and calls to someone behind us. We turn around, and it’s just Liam. Liam, holding hands with a girl, which is interesting because it’s an unusual sight, but not interesting enough to interrupt my conversation with Jen. I look away and continue talking about the things I’ve been googling about Berlin. 

“You can’t mow your lawn on Sunday, that’s another thing.” I say, and she scrunches up her face, “You don’t mow the lawn.”

“Yes but if I wanted to, I couldn’t.”

“I’m sure you could, they might just frown upon it.”

“It seems restrictive though, doesn’t it?”

A shrug, “Maybe they respect silence. And in that case you might have a hard time fitting in.”

“I can be silent.”

“You can’t even whisper normally,”

“What? I can. Yes I can.”

Shane, who is now standing by the end of the table with Claire, Liam and his girl-friend, throws an arm around the brunette’s and interrupts us before I can argue my case and prove to Jen just how well I can whisper.

“Lads, this is Evie by the way. She’s another one of Kelly’s friends from home in Tullamore.” 

We have to do the whole thing of going around the table and introducing ourselves, even though I don’t really have much interest in who this random girl is. “Jude,” I say when we get to me, and Jen gives me a tight smile like I should be making more effort. What else does she want from me? This whole being nice thing is starting to feel akin to a totalitarian regime.

“Good to meet you,” Evie says with a smile. She’s tense and overly formal.  

“Good to meet you too.”

Claire leaps in excitedly,  “Shane was telling me about the house they’ve all been staying in. It sounds unreal. It’s way up the beach where all those modern mansion places are, they’ve got a big outdoor deck and a fire and everything.”

“Sounds cool,” Evie says, and then Shane explains that it belongs to my parents, that they’ve let us use it for the summer while leaving out all the juicy bits about how they can’t risk being trapped in it together for the summer in case they kill each other, which is why the care of it has fallen to me. All I have to do is make sure that it doesn’t get damaged, that the roof tiles don't fly off in a storm or something. I realise I forgot to clean the puddle off the floor two weeks ago, and remind myself to check if the timber has any marks when we get home. 

Claire goes on, “You were just saying though, Shane, that we could go up and hang out with ye all some time?” 

Shane scratches the back of his neck and shuffles about looking awkward. I wonder if he was trying to invite her over alone. 

But Jen comes to the rescue. “Ugh, yes please.” She says. “I’m getting sick of hanging out with only boys, so I’d be delighted if the two of you came up to visit.”

Evie glances at Kelly, forgotten but not gone, still on the bench. “Maybe three of us?”

“If she’ll be seen with us.” Shane calls over his shoulder, and his sister flips her middle finger at him. 

I’m amused. Three of them? Are they forgetting the obvious fourth party? “Four of you, including Liam?” I say.

“Oh yeah, well, obviously I thought that went without saying,” Evie smiles at him, tucking hair behind her ears and he smiles back. He’s delighted. He feels lucky. He’s got a smudge of her makeup on the shoulder of his t-shirt.

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Jen murmurs. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I suppose.” I say. “Haven't really thought about it.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG chapter

[22ayla19]

In Hyuk Goo x Reader

- Let's have son's.

In Hyuk’s phrase left you off guard and confused. You were just working in your office at Shinhwa headquarters, and then out of the blue, In Hyuk says that he wants sons.

- Some strange chain of thoughts...

- When your father made me run 5 km, there was time to think.

Then you remembered that when In-hyuk first met your parents, your father made him run 5 km to convince him of his intention to marry you. Well, for someone who was awakened from the top 20 strongest in the country, In Hyuk ran those damn 5 km, but he remembered them for the rest of his life. Your father even kept an eye on him to make sure he didn’t cheat.

As a result, In Hyuk convinced your father of his intention to marry you and also made a note to go jogging more often, otherwise his stamina was dropping.

- If we have a daughter, I’m afraid my ideas will be worse than your dad’s ideas. I almost figured out how to intimidate the suitors, but then our daughter will never get married.

You couldn’t help but laugh at your husband’s words.

- Ahahaha! I'm afraid to ask what ideas came to your mind while you were running that miserable 5 km!

- Judge for yourself, if we have sons, I will definitely teach them how to properly care for a girl.

- How will they take as an example the father who tripped and kissed the asphalt when he tried to ask out the woman with whom he was in love.

Again you couldn’t hold back and laughed at the memories. This happened a couple of years ago. You just appeared in Shinhwa as a new employee. In Hyuk volunteered to show you what the rules were in Shinhwa, and over the course of several weeks, while he was helping you settle into your new place of work, he realized that he had fallen in love like a boy. He liked the way you joked and teased him, how you found a common language with other employees, even managed to see you in battle. A grown man, but he fell in love like a boy. Ji Suk teased him about this for a long time.

And so he gathered his strength and went to invite you on a date. You were leaving the main building, In Hyuk, who was waiting for you on the street, immediately headed in your direction when he saw you. Only In Hyuk himself got too excited that he stumbled out of the blue and, roughly speaking, kissed the asphalt.

- Why did you remind me of this?...

- So that you remembers who he married.

With a malicious smile, you answered your husband, who hid his face from the awkwardness of the situation.

- Well, if we have a child, then its gender will depend on how well daddy tried. You see, I can’t influence the gender of the child, but you can, so if you want sons and not daughters, then try hard, otherwise I’ll give birth to a daughter with the same character as myself.

In Hyuk was distracted. It was nice that a daughter was born, a second copy of her mother, at least In Hyuk will be sure that she will be able to stand up for herself.

- By the way, I visited the doctor the other day.

- You are ill?! Why didn't you tell me earlier?

- Quiet, calm. I’m not sick with anything like that, I just felt sick in the morning, so I decided to visit the doctor.

- And what did the doctor say?

- Congratulated the future dad.

A minute of silence and awareness.

- Will I... become a dad?...

- Yeah! Once you said that you want sons, the doctor suggested the option of going for an ultrasound after the 13th or 14th week of pregnancy...

Before you could finish speaking, In Hyuk hugged you and then spun around the office with happiness.

- I WILL BECOME A DAD!!!

- Be quiet! Let it remain a secret, then we will surprise everyone. And it’s too early, I myself need to be careful so that nothing happens.

- I'm probably at the wrong time.

You and your husband looked at the unexpected guest who disrupted your plans to keep the pregnancy a secret.

- Chairman Ji Young, you will keep our secret?

You looked pleadingly at the woman, waiting for understanding in the current situation.

- Oh! Yes, sure. And congratulations to Miss (Y/F).

- Thank you, Chairman Ji Young!

Ji Young thought that she would talk to In Hyuk later. Still, he has no time for her instructions right now.

[jujumin-translates]

★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 15 - Ketchuped To Hell

Company Employee A: I’m so sorry to bother you.

Company Employee A: We’ve been able to handle English-speaking and Asian countries just fine, but this region is a little more difficult for us and there aren’t many people in the company who would be able to help…

Company Employee A: I’ve been considering outsourcing, but I haven’t gotten approval yet. Please, can you at least make sure there aren’t any parts that could be misunderstood in the machine translation?

Chikage: That I can do easily.

Chikage: …

*Typing*

Chikage: (So this is the final document.)

Chikage: --.

Chikage: (...Same last name and everything. I still hate myself for reacting to it out of reflex.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tsumugi: It’s been quite a while since the voting period for the final selection started, and yet the notices of debut performances aren’t showing any signs of stopping.

Kazunari: And there are still just as many new troupe and troupe member recruitment notices too~.

Kumon: That reminds me, there was a kid in one of my classes that said they were thinking about starting to do theater.

Tsumugi: It seems like the more people are exposed to the opportunity, the more people become interested in it.

Tenma: And because of the SNS Votes, more and more theater companies are shifting their focus to streaming.

Omi: While working on a photoshoot the other day, I met someone who works in the film industry and they said they’ve suddenly been really busy lately.

Yuki: A lot of people’s impressions from overseas are starting to pop up online.

Tasuku: The new Fleur Award really is helping to bring life to the world of theater, just like they said at the first press conference.

Azuma: It’s especially amazing considering things have only just begun.

Sakyo: Yukio-san is the type of guy to be in the eye of the storm when it comes to theater.

Guy: With the increased attention on it, he and Kamikizaka must be very busy doing various interviews.

Sakyo: Well, I’m sure Reni-san’s handling it just fine.

Yuki: The number of reviews on the theater forums has gone through the roof, but a good chunk of them are pretty scathing.

Yuki: Even performances done by famous theater companies and playwrights are getting stuff like, “I couldn’t understand the dialogue because they talked too fast, but the costumes were cute, I guess.”

Yuki: And “It suddenly turned into a contemporary dance thing and I had no clue what it was supposed to mean, but overall it was interesting.”

Azami: Honest but harsh, I guess.

Sakyo: They probably didn’t understand the stylistic beauty of that troupe, so it’s likely just them being candid on their first time seeing them perform.

Tsuzuru: They’re interesting to read, but I fear the day they come after us.

Sakuya: I wonder what they’re gonna say about us…

Izumi: Let’s not overthink things and start catastrophizing. We’ll be fine as long as we be ourselves.

Itaru: Right. If we worry about it too much and disappoint our existing fans, we’ll become the harbingers of our own doom.

Yuki: Well, it’s probably best that we all limit ourselves when it comes to reading reviews.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Door opens*

Yuzo: Mornin’.

Tsuzuru: Good morning.

Sakuya: Good morning! We’ll do our best today!

Izumi: Sorry to do this when you’re busy preparing things for your own troupe, Yuzo-san.

Yuzo: It ain’t a problem.

Itaru: Have you figured your attack plan for the Fleur Award on your end, Yuzo-san?

Yuzo: We’re just gonna do what we always do. That said, we got our asses kicked durin’ the pre-votin’.

Izumi: MANKAI Company placed 70th.

Yuzo: We were 103rd.

Sakuya: Furinkazan was!?

Tsuzuru: Even though you’re so popular your tickets sell out every show and you have a pretty solid fan base…

Yuzo: That’s ‘cause most of our fans are older.

Yuzo: So most of ‘em didn’t even know the pre-votin’ existed or if they did know, they didn’t know how to do it.

Yuzo: It’s gonna be a tough battle, but we’ve gotta fight in it in our own way.

Yuzo: Well, this ain’t the end of things, so we’re gonna take it at our own pace and not try to rush it.

Yuzo: But that’s just Yukio-san throwin’ us curveballs in the same way he always does. The things that guy comes up with never fails to amaze me.

Izumi: Haha… that’s him, alright.

Yuzo: Well then, if you’re all ready, then let’s get things started.

Sakuya: Okay! We’ll do our best!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yuzo: …

Izumi: What do you think…?

Izumi: (I haven’t felt this kind of nervousness in a long while…)

Yuzo: Haaah… You’re as stiff as ever.

Yuzo: Given it’s a sequel to your debut performance, there ain’t any problems with the way you’re interpretin’ the roles, but overall, you’re fightin’ spirit just ain’t there.

Yuzo: Tsuzuru, you’re still havin’ your doubts about the script, and that’s why you’re not fully focused on the play, ain’t it?

Tsuzuru: …Yes.

Yuzo: And the rest of ya are too focused on wantin’ to put on a good performance to get the results ya need for the rankings.

Yuzo: ‘Course, puttin’ on a good performance does matter, but you guys should damn well know that by now.

Yuzo: Above all, you should think about what ya wanna convey and accomplish with this performance again.

Yuzo: Do ya wanna earn your spot in the rankings or do you wanna show off your growth…

Sakuya: --.

Yuzo: ‘Course, there’s nothin’ wrong with wantin’ recognition. But if that’s all you’re doin’ it for, then you’re just earnin’ points.

Yuzo: You’ll end up bein’ consumed by thoughts like, “If we do this, we’ll be more popular and get more points” or “If we do that, we can get some extra points”-- But what we’re doin’ is theater. It ain’t a competition.

Yuzo: What is a Spring Troupe play to you guys? What are you doin’ this for? Who’re you doin’ this for?

Yuzo: You’re doin’ a sequel of your debut play. What did that play mean to all of you back then?

Yuzo: If you’re gonna do a sequel to your debut performance, maybe it’s best ya go back to those origins and give ‘em a look over again.

Yuzo: …But do it with some caution, yeah?

Izumi: (I wonder if Yuzo-san is also pretty worried about the new Fleur Award.)

Izumi: (No, I’m sure companies other than Yuzo-san’s are worried too… We’re not alone in this.)

Izumi: (What place does our troupe have in the rapidly changing world of theater…)

Izumi: (Maybe we need to rethink the path we’re going to take.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Citron: It has been a long time since we have been ketchuped to hell like that~.

Masumi: Criticized to hell?

Itaru: His kindness stat has been upped since back then, though.

Chikage: Isn’t that because of how much he approves of us?

Masumi: But that just makes fixing the parts he doesn’t approve of that much harder.

Sakuya: There… really is no easy answer, huh? Our Spring Troupe’s acting… our origin…

Tsuzuru: Who would’ve thought it’d be so hard just to be ourselves?

Chikage: Because sometimes you’re not the one to understand yourself the best.

Izumi: We decided to do this sequel in order to go back to our roots and remember where we started…

Izumi: So, what do you all think was the best part about Spring Troupe back during the first RomiJuli?

Sakuya: To be entirely honest with myself, my acting skills were horrible. All I had back then was my desire to act.

Tsuzuru: But you’ve still got that desire even now.

Sakuya: Yeah! If anything, I love and cherish theater even more than I did back then.

Masumi: So I wonder what we’re “lacking” now.

Itaru: I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m way more absorbed into theater than I was back then, at least.

Chikage: Our bonds as Spring Troupe have deepened and we’ve all improved too.

Citron: I do not feel like we are lacking anything~…

Masumi: But I get what Yuzo was saying.

Tsuzuru: Same here… He was right about me not being able to shake my hesitation about the script, too.

Chikage: Differences from our debut performance, huh…? For better or worse, this is no longer our “first time” on stage.

Itaru: You mean like our freshness is gone, or something? Well, there is a certain something about an author’s debut work, I guess.

Sakuya: You can only have one “first time”, so it’s not something you can do again, huh…

Tsuzuru: So, does that mean that, in a way, we’ll never be able to surpass our debut performance…?

Itaru: Sad, but true.

Masumi: Something that can’t be surpassed despite our improvement, huh…

Itaru: The impact of a first time and a blissfully unaware, reckless drive do have a certain power to them.

Sakuya: Hmm…

Izumi: …

Izumi: (Everyone seems gloomy now.)

Izumi: Let’s let this problem sit for a bit and each think about it more individually. We’ll have another meeting about it some other day.

Tsuzuru: Gotcha.

Itaru: …Yeah.

*Phone buzzes*

Sakuya: Ah--.

Izumi: The meeting’s over, so you’re okay to go and take that.

Sakuya: Sorry, excuse me, then.

*Footsteps*

Sakuya: --Hello, Sakuma speaking. I appreciate your call.

Sakuya: Um, I’m so sorry. About that…

*Door closes*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Iv: maintenance’s been extended

shiki: I have more exams tomorrow, so I probably won’t be able to play much today.

Iv: our’s start on thurs

Kar: Good luck

Iv: don’t you got em too?

Kar: Started the day before yesterday

Iv: oh, so you’ve already started

shiki: Cool about it as ever.

momo has entered the chat.

Kar: Yo

shiki: You’re late today.

Iv: you got exams too, momo?

momo: Ran away from home

Kar: Way to change the mood lmao

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[pinkskytwst]

MAKING A STAND - PART II

Yandere First Years/Prefect Romantic Poly, GrimxPrefect Platonic

=====

The first ‘incident’ sent a ripple of suspicion and unease through the Housewardens.

They were all powerful, all skilled and talented in their own ways and none of them could ever claim to be ‘harmless’, but on the list of physically dangerous, Jamil was listed high. He had been trained since a child to be able to fight off adult assassins and excelled at it despite the few times he had been forced to show it.

When you took in Snake Whisper he pretty much jumped to the top.

Being able to control anyone just by meeting their gaze and having the mental ability to utilize it properly, well, despite how intimidating the twins and Malleus could be, no one dared to let their guard down around the Scarabia Vice-Housewarden.

So, when the news of the retainer/bodyguard being sent to the hospital wing because of a potions class ‘gone wrong’ – a class he was highly capable in – and then for that news to explode with the knowledge that Jamil’s face had been injured and his eyes mostly destroyed…

They all began watching each other’s houses even more closely.

The Prefect visited Kalim, who remained steadfast at his best friend’s bedside, and brought him food that he could at least know was safe to eat while he waited for Jamil to recover.

The heir was heartbroken when they learned that Jamil would never be able to see again even with all the magical healing they were using that had saved his life, but he promised the Prefect that the other would never have to worry. Kalim would take care of him, make sure he never wanted for anything.

He was alive and that was what mattered to Kalim.

The Prefect shared an embrace with the usually bright young man and promised that they would help any way they could.

Kalim had just chuckled weakly and gave them a light pat on the back, his gaze sliding past them to Epel, who had come with them to visit and was standing at the door. He quickly shifted his gaze away and back to the Prefect with a blinding smile.

“Don’t worry, I can take care of Jamil. My father is sending another trusted aide to cook and take care of me while Najma finishes up her training. With the both of us Jamil will be okay. You shouldn’t worry. You have a lot on your plate and I wouldn’t want you to overwork yourself.” He assured them.

The Prefect wasn’t fully pacified by this, of course, but realized that Jamil probably wouldn’t want them hovering and seeing him so weakened, so they promised to visit once the other boy woke up and wanted to see them.

Kalim agreed of course, but his expression somehow said he doubted that would actually happen.

The Prefect didn’t push but gave Kalim one last embrace before stepping out of the hospital wing with Epel at their side.

“You okay?” the lavender haired boy asked, his fingers finding theirs comfortingly to give them a gentle squeeze.

They looked up to their friend, unable to hold back the fond smile as they heard the twinge of country accent in his words that always slipped a little when he was concerned.

“I…think so.” They admitted, somewhat unsure, “It’s just…Jamil was so skilled at potions. I’m worried that if even he can get hurt so badly that others could too.”

They chewed on their bottom lip absently.

“Epel, would you mind tutoring us all more in potions?” they asked hopefully. “You’re so smart in that subject and you know how clumsy Deuce and Grim can be sometimes, and Ace doesn’t aways pay attention to details like he should. What if something like this happens again and they get hurt?”

The Pomefiore boy quickly released their hand to wrap around their shoulders and pull them closer to his side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you all study. I’m sure it was just a mix up. It’s really easy to get ingredients wrong if you’re not paying attention and he had to keep a watch on Kalim too.” He assured him. “Fairy wing powder and Pyroxene dragonfly wing powder looks basically the same unless you’re really familiar with them.” He pointed out. “I’ll make sure the guys will know how to tell the difference.”

The Prefect nodded, leaning into the comfort.

“Thanks, Epel.” They smiled softly, leaning their head against his.

“Don’t worry, you can count on me.” He promised gently, voice soft and with the warm drawl of his accent that never failed to make them smile.

“I know.”

-

The second ‘incident’ nearly caused an international scandal.

Rook Hunt, the Vice Housewarden and bane of existence for multiple students that were the focus of his obsessions, was attacked while Trein-sensei had taken the third years on a field trip of sorts to the Coral Sea.

The trip had gone well, in the beginning, despite some of the antics from the NCR students. There had even been a visit to the same museum that Azul had conned the Prefect into stealing from and one of the older siblings to Prince Rielle had hosted them for a meal.

No one was surprised, however, that the blonde huntsman had slipped away at some point in hopes of trying to track sea creatures he would otherwise not have access to.

Many in Pomefiore, in fact, were betting one what exactly he would end up coming back with.

What they hadn't expected was him not returning and a search having to be made for the Sunset Savana citizen only to find him barely alive from what appeared to be a shark attack.

His right arm had been completely torn off at the shoulder.

Vil had been livid, instantly setting out with all the backing of his fame and famous father to place blame on the school for allowing such a thing to occur and at the Coral Sea royal family for not ensuring that the visiting students were safe.

What he didn't say was how he suspected the Octavinelle Housewarden and his pet eels to have been behind it somehow. They made no attempt to hide how they despised the blonde for his stalking habits or his attempts to target them during events like the Bean Fest or Magift matches, and the twins had been visiting their parents on short notice during the trip.

He didn’t say it but he made his displeasure felt on campus and the Mostro Lounge lost all Pomefiore business in one fell swoop.

Magift matches between the two dorms became little more than blood baths that even Savanaclaw were impressed by, and fights breaking out between the students of said dorms became an almost common occurrence.

It was only under Vil’s pressure that Crowley assured the blonde that he would be allowed to return to school once he had healed up enough and would work beside the Housewarden to complete his coursework so that he wouldn’t be held back or hindered by his missing limb.

A magical prosthesis would be created for him, of course, but it would take a while to special create for him and it was doubtful that the tracker’s aim would ever be what it had once been.

“And you’ll thank Lilia-senpai again for me, right? For finding Rook-senpai and bringing him back?” The Prefect asked, looking up at Sebek from where their fingers were snagged onto his sleeve. “I know he wasn’t exactly pleased with Rook-senpai’s…hobbies.”

The half-fae’s expression flickered with discontent and the human knew he was probably just annoyed that his superior had been forced to do the teachers’ job for them.

Or maybe how they had realized that the blonde huntsman had been taking more pictures of them recently than usual.

“OF COURSE!” he declared seriously, not comfortable with instigating contact out in the open but he didn’t attempt to shake them off like he might once have done either. “LILIA-SAMA WAS ONLY DOING AS HE FELT WAS HIS RESPONSIBILITY BUT I WILL REITERATE YOUR GRATITUDE!”

The Prefect smiled brightly up at the knight, forcing Sebek to glance away quickly or succumb to the heat rising in his cheeks.

“Thank you, Sebek. I really like Lilia-sama but I don’t want to bother him when I know you all have so much to do, protecting Tsunotarou.” They admitted.

“IT IS NOTHING! LILIA-SAMA COUNTS YOU AS A TRUSTED COMPANION AND HAS SAID MANY TIMES YOU ARE WELCOME AT DIASOMNIA WHENEVER YOU WISH!” He assured them instantly. “YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE OUR SUPPORT!”

The soft look of wonder and fondness on the Prefect’s face had Sebek looking away again.

“I know, Sebek. I’m really honored to have such skilled and amazing knights think so highly of me.” They said gently, breaking the other’s desperate attempt to not flush under the praise.

They couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute and flustered the tall warrior could get at the smallest things despite his initial prickly attitude.

“Why don’t we go pick up Ace and Grim from detention and call the others? I’ll make dinner for everyone tonight to try and get our minds off of all this.” They offered.

Sebek’s shoulders shifted somewhat at the change of topic, and he nodded sharply again. A moment later he reached out to tug them out of the way of a Savanaclaw student that had almost stumbled into them.

He sent the boar therianthrope a sharp glare and moved them on his other side purposefully so that he could remain between them and rest of the students milling around.

“OF COURSE, PREFECT! I WILL KEEP WATCH WHILE YOU NOTIFY THE OTHERS!” he said seriously, his posture still at the ready as he always was when they were in public.

The Prefect pulled out their phone and began texting in the group chat for the rest of the First Years, reaching up again to lightly snag the edge of Sebek’s blazer, knowing the half-fae preferred having his arms free when he was in ‘guard mode’.

“How does Salmon Carpaccio sound?” they asked fondly, sneaking a look up at the taller male and hiding a chuckle at how he perked up.

“A VERY GOOD CHOICE, PREFECT!” he exclaimed eagerly.

“I’ll make extra so that you can take some back for Lilia-sama and the others.”

“YOU ARE VERY GENEROUS! LILIA-SAMA WILL BE PLEASED!”

-

The third and fourth ‘incidents’ happened so quickly after each other that it left the school reeling.

Ace had chosen to challenge the Heartslabyul Housewarden again.

The Prefect had only heard about the battle after the fact and had been frantic, worried that Rosehearts-senpai wouldn’t go easy on Ace for challenging him again, only to find out that their red haired friend had won.

Deuce’s explanations weren’t very clear, but apparently Ace had made a deal with Azul to borrow Floyd’s Bind the Heart for the duel, which insured that Riddle’s own Off With Your Head couldn’t land and seal Ace’s magic.

Apparently the surprise of the move had been enough for Ace to have an advantage against the older student and had sent Riddle flying into the hedge maze much to the shock of the other dorm members.

“Not that I don’t think you are good enough to defeat Rosehearts-senpai,” The Prefect said with a furrowed brow as they cleaned and bandaged a cut on their friend’s cheek. “But won’t he just challenge you again? You can’t keep making deals with Ashengrotto-senpai. What did you bargain for with him, anyway?” they fretted.

Ace just flashed a playful grin, leaning into their touch and giving one of his customary, flirty winks.

“Aa-ah, can’t tell ya that.” He teased, “NDA and all.”

He laughed at the pout that instantly pulled on their lips.

“Don’t worry, creampuff, it’s nothing I’ll be missing.” He smirked. “And besides, apparently the tyrant’s mom’s been on his ass so he’s going to focus more on studies instead of trying to be a Housewarden again. It’s all good.” He waved off the whole situation like it wasn’t completely unbelievable.

“What!?” they gaped, looking to Deuce for confirmation and boggling when the blue haired boy shrugged and nodded.

“Heard him arguing with Trey-senpai about it.” He admitted. “Something about her finding out that he’s not as focused on grades as he used to be, or who he’s making friends with or something.”

The Prefect’s concerned look returned instantly.

“Is he going to be okay? What if-“

“Hey, don’t worry about it. The guy’s old enough to take care of his own shit. You’ve already kicked his ass before, so he knows what he’s about. He’s only got a couple more years of school anyway and then she can’t force him to do fucking anything.” Ace argued, poking their forehead.

“I guess…” they muttered, lightly rubbing the spot and sticking out their tongue when the red head just smirked again.

“Still, maybe I should-“ but before the Prefect could try to convince the two to let them at least bring the second year a bag of sweets to help lift his spirits when the front door to Ramshackle was thrown open.

The slam of the wood bouncing against the wall had the three jumping slightly and they looked up to see Jack and Sebek rushing in – Grim hanging off the wolf’s shoulder – and Epel followed close behind.

“Guys! You’ll never believe this!” Epel gasped, throwing himself in between Ace and the Prefect on the couch and shifting to hold the phone so they could all see as they gathered around.

The Prefect watched him click on the video that was already pulled up on the screen, moving a little to see better over his shoulder while Deuce pressed against their back and the two tallest leaned over the back of the sofa behind them.

The video blinked and then began playing, showing an odd angle that was clearly taken on a phone from behind a corner.

It was Vil.

A very drunk Vil who was ranting and raving in a barely comprehensible stream of rage that made him look near Overblotting again.

His hair was falling around his face and he was making wild hand gestures that were no where close to the elegance he was known for as a clearly uncomfortable Epel stood close by and tried to soothe and pacify him.

The Prefect winced, realizing the celebrity was going to have a hard time trying to smooth over getting inebriated on camera.

But then it got worse.

Vil wasn’t just complaining about Rook being hurt – which was understandable even to most internet gremlins – but he then he started in on throwing accusations about Azul being behind it and that turned into him complaining about other NCR students – namely the ‘deviant bastard of a second-prince, Leona’ – who he rambled about being no better than an animal in heat.

Then he turned on Neige LeBlanche.

“Holy shit.” Ace whistled lowly as the Prefect could only cover their mouth aghast.

Epel nodded rapidly, looking more than frazzled and harried.

“It just dropped, everyone’s going crazy.” He admitted. “Vil-senpai’s been really stressed since Rook got hurt and I just figured he needed a chance to vent or that maybe he had gone a little overboard with his potions, or something.”

“This…how are his agents and PR team going to be able to fix this?” the Prefect gaped, wincing as they could already see the rapid list of comments nearly flying up the screen with endless broken heart emojis.

“I don’t know if it’s something that can be fixed.” Jack admitted lowly. “Ignoring how highly thought of LeBlanche-san is, Vil just insulted a royal heir to Sunset Savana.”

Sebek gave a serious nod, eyes calculating as he continued to listen and watch the video.

“King Farena is amenable from what Waka-sama has said, but he is fiercely protective of his family. He will not take kindly to such words being thrown so publicly, especially by someone of Schoenheit-senpai’s fame.” He admitted, his voice lower and tense in a way that they seldom heard it.

There was a long moment of silence between them with nothing but the looping video audio filling the air.

“Welp!” Grim said suddenly, dropping down on the couch and into the Prefect’s lap. “It’s not our problem!”

“Grim!” They protested. “Vil-senpai is…well, he’s not nice, perse, but-“

“No ‘buts’ henchman!” Grim said defiantly, throwing his paw into their face. “The puppy is right! You can’t fix everything! This is something the guy got himself into and he’s got to get himself out of! What are you supposed to do against rabid fans anyway?”

The Prefect chewed on their lip worried, gaze flickering back to the screen and expression dropping at the storm that was clearly building into a hurricane against the actor before their eyes.

Deuce slipped his arms around their waist and nodded against their shoulder.

“Grim’s right, this time.” He said softly. “There’s nothing any of us can do to stop it now.”

The Prefect snuggled Grim under their chin as they were bracketed by all sides by the comfort of their friends.

“I thought…I thought me being here was supposed to help.” They admitted in a small voice. “I thought that was the reason I was brought…that I had a purpose…but how am I supposed to help them like Crowley wants when things like this keep happening?”

A tension shivered through the air and something in Ace’s chest snapped as he suddenly jerked from the couch and moved to lean over their Prefect, reaching out to cup their face in his hands, expression sharp and angry.

But not at them.

Never at them.

“None of this is your fault or responsibility.” He nearly snarled. “That crow bastard can go fuck himself if he tries to push this on you. If he tries to kick you out of Ramshackle you’ll stay in Heartslabyul. If he tries to kick you out of school, you’ll stay with one of our families. Mine and Deuce’s moms have been bugging us to bring you home for break anyway.”

“Yeah! And Grandpa says he wants to teach you how to bake his apple pies.” Epel added instantly.

“You would be more than welcome at my home.” Jack said firmly, large warm hand settling on their head.

“WAKA-SAMA AND LILIA-SAMA HAVE ALREADY MADE STEPS TO REGISTER YOU AND GRIM AS BRIAR VALLEY CITIZENS!” Sebek boomed, horrified at the idea of the small, stranded human being worried for their place in the world.

The Prefect’s breath was stolen as they looked up into Ace’s scarlet gaze and heard the words of assurance around them.

“You don’t have to worry, idiot.” The red head said, leaning in to press his forehead against theirs as Deuce’s breath was in their ear and Epel’s nose pressed into their neck.

Jack and Sebek were a warm, steady presence behind them and Grim’s claws tangled in their shirt.

It made their thoughts dizzy and their heart skip a beat in their chest.

“We’re going to take care of you.”

Oh.

They loved them.

=======================

Hi guys! Sorry I'm posting kind of sporadically, my new job makes it hard to post during the week.

Anyway, hope you like the second part of this. I'm not super pleased with it but I have rewritten parts so many times I figured it would be better just to get it out and move on.

Tell me what you think. <3

[ciaossu-imagines]

gosh, i hope you’re not sick of me yet! 😂 if not, then may i request ootori kyoya + 12th bullet point from the 4th prompt? thank you so much, my dearest!

I could never be sick of you! Honestly, seeing all your asks just makes me even more motivated to write. I checked my phone on my break to see all of them and just could not stop counting the minutes after that until I got to come home and be in front of my laptop because I’m so excited to write them all! Unfortunately, it was many more minutes than I wanted (forgot I had to stop and buy groceries until my reminder alarm rang). Thanks so much for sending them in, my lovely, and I hope you’ll enjoy what I come up with 😊

They are at the club – is this a good situation for them?

Kyoya’s not a nightclub kind of guy. Sure, he’s been in them, but it’s mostly when he’s ‘forced’ into going. Tamaki, who loves the atmosphere of such places, has dragged Kyoya to them a time or two. Of course, Tamaki has more or less dragged all the former Hosts out clubbing with him at least a time or two.

On those occasions, Kyoya does complain. Very passive-aggressively. It’s definite snark but delivered in such typical fashion of Kyoya that it’s both kind of terrifying but at the same time, it comes off as almost oddly polite and maybe not quite rude, with the smile and the charm he can pull off while saying such things. Tamaki’s pretty sure Kyoya’s not sold on the idea of clubbing with him, but Tamaki is also sure that by the end of the night, he can change Kyoya’s mind.

Kyoya isn’t a get up on the dance floor kind of guy, though when he is dragged out there, he’s a good dancer. Is it any surprise? This dude is someone who seems to be a natural at just about everything he tries to do. He doesn’t like to drink too much while out clubbing, but he definitely needs at least one drink. He’s pissed the clubs they go to don’t typically have the wine he enjoys, but he’s also learned which cocktails are acceptable and actually suit his taste-buds and he tends to go with those.

Now, there are other occasions when you can actually find him out in the club. Kyoya, ever the shrewd one, will frequent clubs that he learns business partners, or prospective ones, or even just people of considerable influence that he’s interested in getting to know more, tend to go to the most. It doesn’t even just have to be a nightclub. There’s been one or more deals made around the table of a gentleman’s club, or in the backroom of a country club, or, yes, a couple deal’s made under the deafening sounds of a busy nightclub.

He is more than capable, in these situations, of smiling, of pouring on the charm, of looking like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. Kyoya is one of those people who can easily chameleon themselves to fit any situation, any setting, any group of people. The truth though? He absolutely abhors almost all the time he spends at clubs, ignoring the Host Club during his school years.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 2: Strange Hospitality

In which we return to the present day, where Danny finds a strange mansion in the woods while searching for her friend. Contains: ~2.8k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

The weather was not kind to Danny as she trudged through the woods, each footstep falling heavy and laboriously through the snow as she marched onward, fueled by a bitter spite towards whatever entity had decided she would not have an easy journey.

She couldn’t give up. The horse that Nathan had taken out of town this morning had returned, frightened and skittish, without him. It had taken all morning to calm it down enough to take out again. They had been traveling for so long that Danny had to walk beside it now, giving the poor horse a rest while he carried the meager supplies she’d scraped together at the last minute. 

She tried to follow the path Nathan should have taken towards the next town, keeping a vigilant eye out for any danger. All of his things had still been in the horse’s saddlebags, so it couldn’t have been bandits, right? Had the horse been spooked by a wild animal? Had they simply gotten separated? He would walk back the way he’d come if that was the case, wouldn’t he?

He’d look for shelter, or for someone to help. Maybe there’s a home somewhere along the way. 

Surely he’s alright. He has to be.

But Danny had traveled all day, and hadn’t seen a sign of Nathan anywhere on the road. No one she’d passed had seen anyone matching her description of Nathan, either, which only made her more and more anxious. The sun began to dip near the horizon, and the encroaching darkness brought with it a fresh wave of anxiety. She couldn’t turn back, not without Nathan. She had to find him.

“NATHAN!” she called out, desperately, hopelessly. She couldn’t just yell his name out here in the middle of nowhere and expect a response. She did it anyway. “NATE!” 

“Hello? Are you okay?” 

She stopped in her tracks abruptly, so surprised by the voice that she almost didn’t realize she’d heard one in the first place. It wasn’t Nathan—and she couldn’t quite place where it had come from. She whipped her head this way and that, but all she could see immediately were snow-covered trees. 

“Where are you?” she called out, against her better judgment. Strangers in the woods were usually things you tried to avoid, but she was desperate—she had to take her chances with anyone who could help her find her friend. 

She followed the voice’s direction a little further down the path, and to her left, hidden well amongst the trees and the snow, she finally saw it—a huge mansion surrounded by a large, iron gate, obviously the home of someone who was very rich and important. This far out in the woods, though? She supposed some of them must have homes out in the country for when they got bored of city life. 

The voice from earlier came again, but she still couldn’t see who its owner was. “You seem lost. Are you okay?” 

Oddly, she couldn’t tell if the voice even belonged to a man or a woman, not without a face to go with it. Even so, it sounded young, and…fairly trustworthy, or at least, feigning a genuine enough concern.

“I’m…I’m looking for a friend. He was traveling this way earlier today…his name is Nathan Hayes. Have you seen anyone, by chance?”

The voice didn’t reply for a moment. Danny moved closer to the gate, cautiously, searching the mansion’s grounds for anyone who could have spoken to her. And then, she watched in wonder as the gate swung open—almost of its own accord.

…maybe the wind blew it open?

“I think I can help you find your friend. Would you like to come inside?” 

There was absolutely no way in hell this wasn’t the same kind of setup as every nightmarish fairy tale Nathan had ever told her—getting lost in the woods, wandering into some strange house, and then getting eaten by a witch or chased by bears or cursed by some fairy queen. 

She glared at the gate with a very heavy dose of suspicion. “What makes you say that, huh? How can you help me find him?” 

Another pause. “Because I’ve seen him. Curly brown hair, freckles, green shirt, right?”

Danny felt her heart drop into her stomach. “T-that’s him! You’ve seen him? Where? When? And…where are you? Why can’t I see you?” 

“I’m inside,” the voice simply said—which frankly should have been a lie, because the front door to the mansion was pretty far down the path, and this voice was as clear as if it was right next to her. Danny, unfortunately, didn’t have a better explanation to refute the claim. “I can explain more if you come in? It’s getting late—you shouldn’t travel at night. It’s dangerous.” 

I can’t argue with that, she thought sullenly. Though it’s just as dangerous to trust strangers like you. There was no doubt, though, that this person—whoever they were—had seen Nathan, at least. Danny had no choice—she needed to accept whatever help this person had to offer, no matter how strange. She had nothing else to go on.

She took a deep breath and made her way to the opened gate, pulling her horse along.

The horse stopped before the gate, kicking up his hooves and letting out a frightened whinny, refusing to go any further towards the house.

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, Buddy! It’s okay.” Danny tried to soothe him, but it was useless—no amount of coaxing was going to get the horse to calm down, it seemed. She didn’t know what had gotten him so worked up—but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better about listening to the strange voice.

I don’t have a choice. I have to find Nathan.

She tied Buddy’s reins to the fencepost—lest he run off again and leave her stranded in the woods as well—before heading down the path alone.

The grounds of this mansion, now that she could get a closer look, seemed to be well-maintained. A fountain sat a short ways down, the water frozen over it in an icy, solid waterfall. Hedges lined the yard, covered in a heavy layer of snow. There were even what appeared to be topiary animals here and there.

Rich people really do have the weirdest hobbies. 

She finally reached the mansion itself—a hulking, obscenely elaborate building of dark stone and sharp, twisted spires, like a grand cathedral instead of a place someone actually lived in. Ivy crawled up the edges of the worn brick, giving the whole place the feeling of being terribly old. 

Danny had never been afforded many luxuries in life—the modest house on their farm was a luxury in and of itself. This was far beyond her understanding of how any normal person could live. How much money did a place like this even cost? 

She took a few more cautious steps towards the huge front doors, which loomed before her in all their ornate beauty. There were patterns carved into the wood, elaborate etchings that curled their way all the way down and around a pair of huge, equally elaborate brass door knockers. 

A shiver ran down her spine, but she wrote it off as a gust of winter wind that snapped at her then, rustling her traveling cloak in its wake. 

She reached out for one of the door knockers, but before her hand could touch it, the door opened wide towards her. 

It was dark inside of the house—too dark to see much besides some sort of entryway awaiting her, and what looked like a grand staircase further in. She didn’t see anyone on the other side, strangely. 

“Hello?” she called out, waiting on the porch for an answer. 

“Come in,” the voice insisted, friendly and bright. “Sorry it’s a little dark, I’ll get things lit up for you.”

The voice seemed to have floated further inside the house, and so, with one last, decisive breath, she decided to follow it, and stepped over the threshold.

And immediately, she fell flat on her face. 

Something had rushed to her head almost immediately that had caused such a spell of sudden dizziness—almost a vertigo of some sort, like she’d fallen from some great height instead of just walking into a house. The split-second flash of memory she had retained from before the fall was quickly brushed away, written off as the ridiculous concoction of a brain that didn’t have the capability to walk in a straight line.

She quickly rose to her feet in shame, straightening her cloak and looking around for anyone who would have beared witness to her fall.

Suddenly, though, embarrassment was the least of her concerns.

This was not the same house she’d seen from outside the open door—the tiles below her were the same, the entryway stood before her, yes, but the problem was that everything was built for a fucking giant. 

The edge of the floor tile she was on now stretched on—it had been small enough to step over in one stride, and now it seemed to be as wide as her whole house. The ceiling rose above her, taller than a grand cathedral, much taller than the outside of the building suggested. She thought that a mountain could fit within this space comfortably, and the more she looked up, the dizzier she became. She tried to avert her eyes to something that made sense, but everywhere she looked brought an even further sense of terror. Everything, every chair, every window, every door frame and odd object scattered about seemed to be designed for someone easily a hundred feet tall, maybe more. 

She found that she had frozen in place, and as she looked behind her frantically, as if to catch a glimpse of the outside world to see if she was in a crazy dream or not, she saw the door—now rising so far above her that it would have been an impossible feat to reach the door knocker from before—closed shut on its own.

As if to fight against the sudden lack of air in her lungs, she took in a forceful inhale of breath—though what to do with it, she hadn’t decided. Screaming didn’t seem productive, not yet, and she wasn’t sure whether she was angry at having been deceived, or simply awestruck at whatever magic she’d stumbled into. 

“Hey, hey! Don’t panic.”

“I am NOT panicking,” Danny gasped, almost sounding offended at the notion as she did her best to stifle the hysteria rising in her throat.

She still didn’t see anyone nearby—which, frankly, maybe she should be thankful for. Oddly, the strange voice didn’t seem to come from high above her, as she imagined it might have if it had belonged to a giant. It almost sounded as if it came from right beside her, like there was another person standing just to her right—but there was nothing, except for a huge, stone vase next to the door that held a bouquet of flowers that rose higher above her than any tree she’d ever seen.

“It’s okay. I know it’s…a little weird.” 

“A-a little weird? You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Danny muttered, her eyes still casting about the room as though it might make sense the longer she took it all in. “What kind of crazy-ass house is this?” 

“It was built about three hundred years ago, and takes some influence from Baroque design-”

“I’m talking about the GIANT FUCKING EVERYTHING,” Danny blurted out, waving her arms around as if maybe the owner of the voice needed help seeing what she did. “How the fuck is this possible?”

“Uh…magic?” the voice supplied, semi-helpfully. 

Danny sighed, relinquishing the breath they’d taken in a weary, frazzled exhale. They couldn’t argue with that.

She gasped as a series of lamps far above her along the walls lit themselves up along the inside of the room, illuminating the space even more. She’d almost not noticed it from her vantage point earlier, but there was a gigantic staircase a ways ahead of her in the middle of the room, made of dark wood with a red fabric runner going down its length and spilling out onto the floor at the bottom. It rose up to the second level of the house, its railings intricately carved and oiled, with enormous wooden birds of a species she didn’t recognize adorning the bottom of the railing like perched gargoyles. A huge chandelier lit up directly above her as well, dripping with fine crystal far above like the stars in the sky had formed into one dazzling constellation. 

She stared in awe, a little of the initial shock making way for what might have been amazement. It truly was grand, and far fancier than anything she’d ever seen before. If only she didn’t have to crane her neck to actually see half of it—and if only she wasn’t also given the new and rather unwelcome perspective of what a bug might see before it was unceremoniously crushed under someone’s heel.

“It’s a real nice place, isn’t it?” 

The voice no longer came from her right, but from her other side—though, unsurprisingly at this point, there was nothing there but a small (relative to the house, not to her) table. 

“Y-yeah, it’s uh, it’s pretty fancy,” she relented, trying to settle her frantic heartbeat with what she’d come here for in the first place. “So, can you tell me what you know about Nathan? Do you know if he’s okay? Where are you?” She wondered if she would have to go wandering in this giant house—if this strange person was up the stairs or on the far side of the house, it could easily be a grand adventure of multiple days just to reach them, at her size. “Are you a…giant?”

“Nathan’s fine, he’s alright. And uh, no, I’m not a giant. But can I just say, you’re taking this really well so far.”

A few things seemed to rustle about, like a wind blew through an open window into the room. But none of the windows were open, so what made the curtains move like that?

“So…where is he? Is he here? Can you take me to him?”

Another chill ran down her spine like an ill omen, and she didn’t have to wait long to figure out what such a premonition had warned her of. She could hear, just around the corner, the sound of hulking, huge footsteps, moving slowly towards the room she was in now.

A giant.

“Can you do me just one favor?” the voice whispered, and it felt now as though the invisible person stood right next to her ear. It sent a fresh wave of chills down her skin, raising goosebumps along it, and she stood silently, frozen in place. “I’ll help you find Nathan as long as you don’t scream when you see this guy.” 

“W-when I see who?” Danny muttered harshly, her head beginning to frantically turn this way and that as she looked for the danger her body warned her about, her heart’s tempo increasing with every second. 

“The master of the house,” the voice said simply. Danny felt a sudden, almost tangible absence then—as if there really had been some sort of invisible person beside them, and they’d just…disappeared. 

She steeled herself for what she was about to see, doing her best to quiet the rising panic inside of her as the footsteps grew closer. It felt almost as though each step shook the whole place, though certainly that was only due to how utterly dwarfed she was by everything. It was like she could feel the vibrations of each step in her chest as the sound echoed hollowly in the huge, empty house. 

And then he made his appearance around the corner from a room further down, his eyes landing squarely and immediately on her—though as he caught sight of her, he remained standing where he was, as if he was simply observing her from a distance.

The man appeared to be young, not much older than her, with a slender, willowy frame and sharp, dark eyes. His dark black hair was done up in an elegant but simple updo, his hair twisted around on each side of his face and collected in a bun in the back. He wore a brocaded burgundy waistcoat atop a loose, white shirt—everything about him suggested an air of wealth and sophistication that fit the house he resided in. 

That, of course, and the fact that he was at least a hundred fucking feet tall. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Next Chapter ->

You've all seen the movie, so surely you all know it's going to go well in the next chapter, right?

Thanks for reading, and see you next week with chapter 3, Master of the House!

[luce-speaks]

lukas' guide to getting into (and subsequently out of) a political marriage

written for @fe-aspec-week 2024! i was inspired by this piece by @good-beanswrites from last year's aspec week—i wanted to try my own spin on the how-to format, and this is what came of it!

—

The first step is to be a pushover. Be a second son, be an easy mark, be someone useful and easy to use. Be agreeable. Go along with it. It’s the least you can do.

He meets Talia for the first time when he’s fifteen. They’re at a banquet table, silver spoons in hand. She smiles, and he smiles back. It’s rare luck, to meet someone his own age who isn’t completely insufferable.

The second step is for someone else to make the decision. This is the hard part, because you don’t have any control over it, but it’s also the easy part, because you don’t have to do it yourself.

He is informed of the marriage three days after he turns eighteen, and the announcement receives rather more fanfare than his actual birthday. He later finds out that it had been in the works for eight months, his own involvement only an afterthought. He nods along.

The third step is to try and get used to it. Look for the bright side. Do your best. Scrape out what happiness you can and tell yourself that it’s enough. Try to believe it, too.

They sit together in Talia’s ornate bedroom while their parents hash out the details.

“I know it wasn’t your idea,” she says quietly, “but… I like you well enough. And I think you like me well enough. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? To find our own happiness?”

“Yes,” he says, like second nature, agreeing but also agreeable. “I think it is.”

The fourth step is to watch it fall apart. Your relationship, your happiness, your ambitions—these things will decline slowly but steadily, in step with the political decline of the country you live in. It will get worse before it gets better.

He and Talia used to go for picnics. They both preferred open fields to banquet tables, but the silver spoons came with them in the wicker basket. They would sit under the blue sky and talk about what they’d read recently. Their tastes were never quite the same.

His family used to like the picnics, too. Now they just say he isn’t doing enough. He wonders how it can be not enough and too much at the same time.

The fifth step is to run away. Watch for your chance and take it. Mask your intentions under what is asked of you, always useful, always agreeable, always a second son. Smile and nod and run like hell.

“You’re joining the Deliverance? But—Lukas—“

He doesn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t have a choice.”

“When will you be back?”

“I can’t say. I might not return at all.”

If she asked, he would say “because I might die”. But he also leaves his engagement ring on the table.

The sixth step is to be happy, against all odds. Wash your bloody hands and smile, for real this time. Sit with your friends while they sing campfire songs and gossip and never, ever ask you when you’re getting married.

Python corners him once, alone, with a single-minded focus. He wants to know, so Lukas tells him.

“Honestly, Python? I’m not sure if I love her or not.”

He expects some kind of scolding. He does not expect Python’s simple answer to make everything fall into place in his mind.

The seventh and final step is to settle your affairs. Write a curt letter to the family that sent you away; disappoint them with the news of your continued existence and promise they won’t be seeing you again. For the second letter, waver a while longer before finally giving in and asking your friends for help.

“Keep it short—no fancy words, nothing too nice,” Python says. “You’ve made up your mind. You can’t have her thinkin’ you might come back now.”

“But it ought to at least be polite!” Forsyth argues back. “He said himself that she was completely pleasant about the whole thing. There’s no call for rudeness to her—unlike that awful brother—“

“Hold on,” he says. “I think I’ve got it.”

Python and Forsyth accompany him to mail the letter to Talia. Afterward, the three of them go out for drinks, just as Python promised once upon a time.

(As he turns in for bed that night, Lukas reflects on how light he feels. He is no longer engaged, no longer agreeable, no longer easily used. He is nobody’s husband and nobody’s second son. And he is more at home than he has ever been before.)